#and I'm sure Fred's reached out as well

[dellovestorant]

YES IT WILL 🩵

[kyonite]

Just finished Caliban's War (the second book in the expanse series) and this book made me hate James Holden like nothing else I've ever felt. I need that Montana farm fed fuck to no longer be the solar systems most special boy. I need his girlfriend to leave him and go hook up with the hot lesbian mechanic. I need that man DEAD in the fuckin ground fr.

[dduane]

Hello! Love your work, life-long fan, etc. etc. But I am here today on a mission and wondering if you could help. My nibling (who is unsure if "niece" and other gendered concepts is right for them) is turning 7 this week and is TERRIFIED of black holes. Can't sleep, can't enjoy the night sky, is-getting-picked-on-at-school bad. I'm hoping to introduce her to Fred, but I think if I start at "so there these things called white holes which kind of are "opposite" black holes," I might have a whole new problem to explain to my sister.

So as I dream up what a "nice" black hole would be all about - How was Fred as a black hole? What would such an entropically-interesting entity like a black hole even look like as a wizard? Have people with melanoheliophobia reached out to you before/Do you have any expert advice?

Thanks for all that you do to help change the landscape for anxious, nerdy people!!

Let me go talk to Fred.

***

"It was a good while ago, you know?" he says.

("He" is an approximation of the most extreme kind, here. Most astronomical entities above the Planetary level have no idea whatsoever what gender is about, or what it's good for. And even at the Planetary level they're often none too sure what it means for biologicals.)

Anyway. When you're in Timeheart, even when only visiting, it's hard to avoid the sense of everything you're discussing being in the nature of a game you won; or a test you passed and don't have to deal with further except as an amused memory. But then, in that most central of states on the far side of physicality, all games are won. All tests are passed. This is where you choose the next challenge. As for past ones...?

"It seems straightforward," Fred says, "when you're a black hole. More and more stuff accretes to you. At first, it's just your job, right? But then it starts to become more, and you slowly start getting aware of it. Mass = consciousness, possibly? I don't know. But you start noticing it. More, and more, and more, till you just can't bear it! Gravity, right? What can you do about gravity? Or mass? Honestly. ...But then, finally!—all of a sudden, the pressure releases. There's room. You have somewhere for it to go."

"The Schwarzchild radius," I say.

"Is that what it's called?" Fred says. "...Was he nice?"

"I, uh... couldn't say. Didn't know him personally."

"Pity," Fred says. "It was such a relief! Please thank him for me." A pause. "...'Him?'"

"Insofar as it matters," I say, "apparently so."

"All right," he says. "But anyway, it's such a simple thing. All your life you've been gathering stuff in. More and more, all the time. And you start saying to yourself, "This can't go on, it's just wrong, what happens if I eat everything? I don't want to eat everything!' You know? It's scary."

"I hear you, cuz," I say.

"But it doesn't matter what you think or feel; it just gets worse and worse. You swell on the inside but you can't swell on the outside, and you can't stop stuff from swirling in and in and in. You think, 'This is all wrong, it's going to be the end of me! And if it is, what else is there? What was this all about? Why am I not big enough?' And 'Why can't I be the same kind of "big enough" on both sides?' And the inside and the outside start fighting over which should be bigger—"

"I think I may know where this is going," I say.

"Yes! And then, all of a sudden, when you think you can't bear it another second longer, something happens and you just... evert!"

"Go inside out, you mean."

He laughs out loud. "Yeah, well, that's maybe a little simplistic...? I mean, when you're dealing with six dimensions and above, you sort of go inside out, and upside down, and sideways, and, you know, more ways than that."

"I'm sorry to say that I don't know," I say, "but I suspect it's memorable."

"Please!" he says. "My poor gnaester! You have no idea."

"Um... perhaps that's for the best."

"But the inside gets bigger than the outside," Fred says. And then adds, a bit abashed but also amused, "I was kind of late to the party on this, apparently. I'm told it's a trope."

"So it is," I said. "...For a lot of us, though. Takes a while to realize what's happened. But you're in good company."

"Oh good. Anyway, so then after that you start emitting all the stuff you earlier absorbed," Fred says. "You're a gateway. It's like... recycling, you know? Takes a while sometimes: some people have trouble emitting, after absorbing and absorbing for so long." He laughs. "Habit, yeah?"

"Yes it is," I say. "Habit is such a problem."

"Anyway," Fred says, "tell everybody it's okay. Black holes are about taking in what's over with, what's done. But when we shift, it's about letting whatever we ingested go out to be something new. Has to go through our insides first, though! That's what we're for."

"Recycling?" I say.

"Recycling. You're starstuff, sure!" And Fred laughs. "But sometimes even starstuff needs to go through the wash."

***

HTH!

[smoooothoperator]

What Was I Made For?

07: Please Please Please

Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Charles POV, Sebastian's last appearence (😭)

a/n: Hello there!!! I hope everyone is doing fine! Here's the new chapter!! Charles redemption arc starts now

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Every way of feedback is very welcomed

This race was crucial, not just for me but for the entire team. Securing a podium finish was crucial to keep the second place in the Constructors' Championship. And personally, I needed the win to keep my second position in the Driver's Championship, just 25 points shy.

“Charles, red flag. Red flag.”

The urgency in the voice over the radio cut through my focus like a knife. I frowned, scanning the screens for any hint of what happened, but they remained following the cars that moved in the track.

“What's going on?” I asked, my voice filled with anxiety.

“There's been a crash. Return to the pitlane”

A crash. My heart sank. Who was involved? Why weren't they showing anything on the screens?

“Who crashed?” I asked worriedly, needing to know more.

Silence. The unknown kept me tense as I guided the car back into the pitlane, parking it with a heavy heart. Stepping out, I scanned the pitlane, watching how a chaotic movement started as soon as the rest of the cars were parked, with medics and emergency vehicles going to the track where the incident happened. The air was thick with tension.

“Did you see what happened?” I asked Pierre when I saw him walk towards me.

“Only caught a glimpse of Ocon by the side. Looks like he caused the crash” Pierre sighed, eyes scanning the monitors.

“But who else was involved?” My mind raced, connecting the dots. 

Dafne’s Ferrari wasn't in the pitlane.

“Fuck” I muttered, looking at the rest of the cars parked and then at her side of the garage.

Inside, the crew was a crowd of constant activity. Engineers screaming orders, mechanics hurried back and forth between the cars, faces drained of color as they glued their eyes to the screens. Even that guy Dafne had brought along was there, looking like he just saw a ghost.

“What's the situation?” I demanded from Dafne's engineer, my voice strained.

“She's trapped  in the barriers” he replied, his attention divided between tasks and his attempts to reach her on the radio.

“How could you let her race? She was ill!” I snapped, the worry for her well-being bubbling into anger. “If I saw it I'm sure you did too! She was pale and this morning she threw up”

“This isn't the first time she got in the car sick” he frowned, defending her. “Not that you care”

I clenched my jaw, shaking my head in frustration, then turned to Fred. His expression said everything before he even spoke a word.

“She's unconscious” he murmured, and my heart sank further. “Not answering”

Unconscious. The word echoed in my mind like a drumbeat. If only they had known she wasn't at her best today. If only...

I forced myself to look away, back towards my own car, catching sight of that guy again. There was something familiar about him. Maybe I'd seen him in photos with Dafne.

Focus, Charles. Focus on the race. For the team.

I tried to clear my mind as the race resumed, pushing aside the bundle of worry and what-ifs that threatened to overwhelm me. Keep a cool head. Execute perfectly. Dafne’s face kept intruding, but I ordered myself to stay focused.

Dafne... Please, be okay. You're strong. You'll pull through.

The race became a blur of speed and strategy, the laps melting into each other until suddenly it was over. I climbed out of my car almost in a daze after I parked behind the signal with the big 2, letting myself be guided towards the podium, where trophies and authorities awaited. But my mind was elsewhere.

“How's Dafne?” I asked Fred, joining the team in the pit lane. “Any news? Is she awake?”

“Her family went with her to the hospital,” Fred's voice was heavy with concern. “She's still unconscious. They're running tests.”

I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat. The podium awaited, cameras poised to capture the moment of triumph. But there would be no champagne celebration today.

“I won't spray the champagne,” I muttered, setting the bottle aside.

Lando and Max exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of sympathy and concern.

“Is it about Dafne?” Lando asked quietly, his hand covering his mouth.

“She's still unconscious,” I replied, the weight of worry evident in my voice.

They nodded in understanding, standing silently by my side as we faced the cameras. No cheers, no smiles. 

Fuck the championship. I need her to be okay.

Every interviewer asked about her. They needed to know about her.

“I know as much as you do” I always answered, nodding and moving to the next interviewer.

When I finished the interviews, I went straight to the hospitality area, feeling a chill as soon as I walked in. No one was talking. Everyone’s gaze was fixed on the floor. Her family wasn’t there, and their things were missing from their usual spot during races.

I swallowed thickly, feeling the heavy atmosphere and the weight in my heart. My lips formed a thin line as I nodded to those who came over to pat my back.

“We’ll try again next year” one of my engineers said, smiling weakly. “This wasn’t the race we wanted.”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

I went to my room, sitting on the bed and staring at the wall in front of me. An internal battle raged in my mind, but a knock at the door brought me back to reality.

“Hey”

My mom’s voice made me look up. Her sad smile grew closer as she sat next to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and leaning on me.

“Do you know anything about her? Did her family call you?” I mumbled, closing my eyes and resting my head against hers.

“She’s still asleep” she sighed. “Several concussions and her wrist might be broken…”

“Shit…” I sighed. “She wasn’t focused on this race. I saw it; she was sick and-”

“Look, Charles” she interrupted, sighing. “Dafne might be a girl, but she’s stronger than any man on the grid. If some of you had a cold or another illness, you’d blame your poor performance on being sick.”

“Mom-”

“No, listen” she insisted. “She’s better than you, and you have to accept that. If you ever suffered the pain she does every month, you wouldn’t drive. And yet, there she is, getting on podiums and earning points.”

“I know…” I sighed. “I know I crossed the line with her, okay? I just want to fix everything. You have no idea how much I regret what I said about her.”

“I think it’s a little late for that, Charles” she said, looking at me. “You had your whole life to fix things…”

I clenched my jaw and looked away, feeling her words hit me like a cold shower.

All my life, I despised Dafne because of the stupid jealousy I felt. Jealousy that made me say awful things and insinuate lies. Jealousy that never let me stop and give her space.

“I have to see her” I whispered, standing up and packing my things into my backpack.

“Charles…”

“No, mom” I frowned. “It’s all my fault, you’re right. I’ve been an idiot, and I know she reported me. I know she doesn’t want to see me, but I need to know if she’s okay.”

She sighed and nodded, smiling weakly. I felt her eyes on me as I tidied the room and slung my backpack over my shoulder.

“I’ll see you at home, okay?” I sighed, hugging her. “I’ll text you once I know if she’s awake.”

“Just… don’t make things worse.”

I smiled weakly and kissed her cheek before walking out of the room. I looked at her room; it wasn’t empty. Her things were still there, her backpack and clothes neatly folded on the bed. I should probably take them to her, right? Maybe her family rushed to the hospital and forgot her things.

I swallowed thickly as I walked into her room, overwhelmed by her perfume. The same perfume she always wore, the one that lingered in my nose and on my clothes after that night in Monza. I sighed, grabbing her backpack and packing her clothes, laptop, and phone. When I picked up her phone, I saw a picture of her and that guy on the lock screen, holding a cat between them.

I clenched my jaw, put the phone in the backpack, and looked at the picture of her first win on the wall.

“I miss that brown hair” I whispered, looking at her. “I miss your crown.”

I smiled weakly and looked down, slinging her backpack over my arm.

When I walked out of the hospitality, I felt everyone taking pictures and asking about Dafne, snapping shots of her backpack hanging from my arm. I clenched my jaw and walked toward the paddock exit and my car.

Once inside, I put her backpack on the passenger seat and took a deep breath. Her perfume filled the car, bringing back memories of September.

Her skin. Her taste. Her smell. Her touch. Her lips.

“No, no” I groaned, shaking my head to dispel the thoughts. “Idiot.”

I turned on the engine, typed the hospital address into my phone, and drove.

My mind ran through every possible scenario, good and bad. I tried to stay positive, hoping she’d already be awake. Maybe she’d be strong enough to yell at me. I would need it.

When I parked the car, I grabbed my phone and searched for Erica’s number, texting her.

Charles: What’s her room number?

Erica: What?

Charles: Dafne’s room in the hospital.

Erica: Are you for real? What are you going to do?

Charles: Just drop off her backpack. You left it in her room.

Erica: 5.17

Erica: Behave yourself. If she’s awake, she won’t want to see you.

I sighed, ran my fingers through my hair, took a deep breath, and grabbed her backpack before getting out of the car.

I ignored the reporters outside the hospital, walked straight to the elevators, and pressed the button for the fifth floor. I got out and found her room, frowning when I saw that guy standing in front of the door.

I clenched my jaw and approached, but as I reached for the handle, he stopped me.

“I think you’re the last person she wants to see right now” he said, making me turn around slowly.

“Excuse me? And who are you?” I frowned. “I just came to bring her backpack.”

“Then give it to me and leave” he said, frowning.

“You didn’t answer my question” I insisted.

“Who I am to Dafne is none of your concern. You’ve done enough damage, Charles” he said. “You should forget her.”

“Is she awake?” I frowned.

“She is. That’s why I said you’re the last person she wants to see right now” he groaned.

I clenched my jaw and placed the backpack on the seat next to him, frowning as I looked back at the door. She’s awake. Good.

“Just… why?” he asked, making me frown.

“What?”

“Why were you so cruel to her? She never did anything to deserve your hate. Do you know how badly you made her look? How many threats she’s received because you got drunk and said all those disgusting things?” he said, making me swallow thickly and look away. “You acted like a kid wanting to be the center of attention. Once the spotlight was off you, you did something stupid to get it back.”

Every word felt like a stab. But I had to stay silent and take it because deep down, I knew I deserved it.

“She locked herself in her office to read all the comments, you know?” he sighed. “I had to listen to her cry while she read everything because she didn't let me walk in”

“You think I don’t know?” I interrupted him. “I regret every word I said. I regret everything I did. But it’s too late to fix things, isn’t it? She hates my guts. She doesn’t want to see me ever again; she made that clear with the lawsuit.”

“And yet you came” he said. “You packed her things and brought them here, knowing you had zero chances of giving them to her.”

I took a deep breath and sighed, looking away.

“If she’s awake, why aren’t you inside?” I asked. “I thought you two were dating.”

“We never did,” he said, with a sad smile. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure” I sighed.

“You don’t hate her, do you?” he asked. “I noticed the way you looked at us during the weekend. I saw how you looked at her sadly, how you cared for her. I even noticed you grabbing the peaches near her in the fruit basket at the restaurant.”

“She’s allergic to the skin of peaches” I mumbled.

“And I saw you leave her favorite chocolate on her bed” he said. “You don’t hate her.”

“It’s stupid” I sighed, sitting next to him. “I guess you’re right. I am still a kid wanting the Ferrari spotlight. I want the attention…”

“Her attention” he interrupted. “But that never worked, did it?”

I looked at him and sighed, closing my eyes.

Her attention… Maybe.

“I think you should give her time,” he whispered. “Right now, she received some news she didn’t like. I think you should wait, but not too long. Give her time to recover. After all, you two will have to talk at some point”

I sighed and nodded, looking at the door and swallowing thickly. Some news… bad ones? Is she injured? Can’t she race? What is it?

“She’s okay, I promise” he smiled weakly.

I looked at him and smiled weakly, nodding. I stood up and looked at the door one last time before walking away.

Two weeks have passed since that race.

Two weeks full of interviews, sponsor events, and photoshoots. Of holding a trophy that is the proof of how I lost the second position in the championship. Of smiling fakely when all I wanted to do was stay out of the cameras.

Two weeks of not knowing anything about Dafne. She didn't come to the interviews, nor the events, not even to the dinner.

“Did Dafne call?” I asked Fred while I looked at the empty seat where she was supposed to be sitting, and he only shrugged and shook his head.

“Last time I saw her was back in Abu Dhabi” he said. “I visited her in the hospital. She said that she needed time to recover, that's all.”

After that dinner, I tried to reach her. But every time I grabbed my phone and pressed her contact name, I hesitated, remembering the words of the man who I thought was her boyfriend.

Time. She needs time. She needs to recover. We have things to talk about.

So I waited. I waited until she called me. Until she was ready.

But I was growing impatient. December had already ended, and she hadn't called yet. Everyone at the factory was worried about her absence. And what really set off my alarms was hearing Fred talk about getting another driver in her seat.

So I did what I thought was the most normal thing. I went to her parents' house.

“What are you doing here?” I flinched when I heard her voice. Erica was there, looking at me leaning on the door frame. “I think no one invited you.”

“I just need to know if she's okay, Erica…” I sighed.

“She’s not” she frowned. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Of-”

“Yes, Erica! I know what I have done!” I exclaimed. “Why are you acting like this with me? I thought we were friends…”

“Friends? I stopped being your friend the moment I saw my sister having a panic attack because your fans came to attack her” she frowned.

“I need to see her, Erica. Please” I begged.

She looked at me, scanning me with her green eyes. I felt small again, being intimidated by her judging eyes. It reminded me of when I was a kid and she was always hanging out with my older brother and Jules. She always used to sit next to Jules, scanning the crowd with her eyes before talking, making an analysis of everyone.

“She was happy with Sebastian” she frowned. “She was finally happy, smiling. And then you…”

“I, what?” I frowned. “What else have I done, Erica? Tell me!”

“I… I can’t tell you” she sighed.

“God damn it! Please!” I groaned, frustrated.

“Do you remember where the house of our nonna is?” she said suddenly.

“The one where Jules and you used to play as Juliet and Romeo on the balcony?” I said, remembering those summer days.

“Y-yeah” she said, looking away. “That one.”

“She’s there?” I asked, confused. “She lives there?”

“She went there… to hide” she sighed.

“Hide?”

“Just… Charles” she sighed, taking a deep breath. “You’ll understand, okay? And please… Please, I beg you. Don’t hurt my sister ever again. If she tells you, please don’t run away. Stay with her, even if she pushes you away. Don’t give up.”

“I won’t run away” I said, swallowing thickly. “Not again. I won’t give up on her.”

“Good. Because she’ll need you” she nodded.

I swallowed thickly and walked towards her, going up the four stairs and hugging her. She tensed at first, but then hugged me immediately.

“I’m sorry… For everything I did” I whispered. “For every pain I caused. I don’t deserve your help…”

“Just promise you won’t hurt her ever again. Because if you do, I’ll be the first to-”

“I promise, I promise” I sighed, hugging her tighter.

I went back to the car, smiling weakly at Erica and driving away, trying to remember the way to that house in the middle of nowhere in Tuscany.

Memories came back to me. Our families spending the summer in that house, hiding in the bushes, running and racing to see who could get to the other side of the road first, the sunsets, our parents laughing in the backyard while the kids stayed in our rooms, floating in the river on hot days. Those days, even if Dafne and I were distant, were the best days of my life.

But being here in January is a completely different thing. It smells different; it’s not the warm weather anymore. When you drive through the road, you can smell the wood from the fireplaces keeping the houses warm. There’s no longer that smell of the wine and the herbs.

The house made of stone with wood shutters grew bigger as I approached it, making my heart beat faster with anxiety.

I parked the car on the side of the fence, taking a deep breath when I saw a car I guessed was the one she used to come here. I swallowed thickly, opening the gate and walking inside the property, looking at the house that holds many memories of my childhood.

I heard soft music from the backyard, so I guessed that Dafne was there. I walked towards it, opening the little metal door and closing my eyes when it made noise.

“Erica, you came-”

I swallowed thickly, looking at her. She was sitting on a chair, with a book in one of her hands, and the other hand… on top of her stomach.

“Charles” she mumbled.

I couldn’t take my eyes off her. A pregnant belly.

“You are pregnant” I whispered.

That’s why she was hiding? Because she’s pregnant?

“How far?” I asked without thinking.

“Charles, I-”

“How far, Dafne? Is it…”

“Get out of here” she frowned, swallowing thickly and getting up. “You have no right to be here.”

“How far are you?” I insisted, watching her walk towards me.

“Four months, okay? Are you happy?” she groaned. “You are going to be a dad, asshole. Congratulations, you got rid of your worst enemy by knocking her up.”

Pregnant. She’s pregnant with my baby.

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[sunny44]

All these years (Part 10)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex girlfriend Reader

Warnings: just fluff stuff

Summary: Separated by a disagreement, Charles and Y/n meet again after years apart and all the feelings they had repressed come flooding back.

Previous Chapter

The sun in Maranello shone brightly on that Sunday morning as Charles and I got ready to head out. Charles, Matilda, and I were dressed in Ferrari gear, ready for the race.

Matilda wore her tiny Ferrari jumpsuit, looking around the room with curious eyes as we gathered our things to leave.

Charles laughed, adjusting Matilda's tiny Ferrari cap on her head.

"Ready for your first race, little champion?"

I smiled at the scene and took the opportunity to capture a photo of the two of them, seizing a moment when they were both smiling, their dimples showing.

"She's going to steal the show today, Charles," I said. He smiled.

"Well, she's got the Leclerc charm."

With Matilda securely strapped into her car seat, we headed to the famous Monza racetrack. We could have stayed closer, but Charles needed to attend to some matters at the factory, which was why we were in Maranello.

Arriving at Monza, the vibrant atmosphere of the racetrack was contagious. Matilda was nestled in Charles's arms, and her curious eyes took in everything around her. We took a detour behind the paddock since she was still very young, and we didn't want her to be startled by all the fans' cheering. Surprisingly, she seemed to be embracing it all, laughing as we walked through the paddock with people shouting around.

Fred saw us and smiled, coming over.

"You're the spitting image of your dad, you know," he said to her, and she smiled, reaching out her arms to him. "And you've got your mom's charisma."

"How are you, Fred?"

"Better now with our top fan here," he said, looking at her. "Glad you could make it."

"Yeah, I missed all of this."

"And how's life as a mom been?"

"It's been great, actually. She's hardly any trouble, and it's been much better than I imagined."

"Good to know," he smiled, handing her back to Charles. "See you in the garage in a bit. Take care." We said our goodbyes and continued walking.

"She's definitely your number one fan."

"I'm sure of that too."

In the Ferrari box, Charles, now in his racing suit, held Matilda as he discussed strategy with his team. I captured spontaneous photos of the two amidst the focused energy of the team preparing for the race.

The moment arrived for the race to begin, and Matilda was so tired that she was dozing off in her stroller while I watched the cars line up on the grid on the TVs in the garage. The anticipation in the air was palpable as the engines roared to life, signaling the start of the race.

It was an epic race, with Charles finishing first, followed by Lewis and Max. Mati was already awake, so we went to the fences to watch the podium. The team's staff surrounded us, protecting us from the crowd, and I deeply appreciated them for doing so.

When they called his name, everyone started shouting, and even with the noise-canceling headphones, she saw everything and started screaming and waving her arms joyfully as soon as she saw her dad up there.

Charles was already very happy, but as soon as he saw her, his smile widened even more.

After the trophy presentation and the champagne shower, Matilda and I returned to the garage. Since it was time for her to eat again, I sat on Charles's bed and began breastfeeding her.

"Hi, my love." He came in all wet and smiled upon seeing his almost asleep baby nursing at the same time. "Looks like someone's tired."

"Yeah, she held up really well. She even slept for about half an hour during the race, but it was a restless sleep, so I don't think she rested much."

"You have no idea how happy I am that you two are here, having you both with me, and seeing her cheer excitedly from up there was the highlight of my weekend."

"We're happy to be here too. I missed all of this," I smiled at him and felt that Matilda had fallen asleep, so I laid her down and left him halfway up in case she threw up.

"Well, I'm going to take a shower, do the interviews, and then we can go out for dinner if you want." He gave me a peck and went into the bathroom.

I lay on his bed and adjusted Matilda on my chest, took a picture of her there, and started checking social media to distract myself.

After finishing all the commitments, our day ended with a family dinner at a small restaurant, and then we returned to the hotel to sleep and headed back to Monaco the next day.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername instagram post

“Matilda’s first race.”

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[nottsangel]

You were speechless. A whole decade passed in your mind before you were able to speak again. "Are you insane!? There is no way..." you started but seeing ron's face fall stopped you in your tracks. "I mean, look, you're nice and everything and you look ok, and I'm sure you're gonna find a girl, but I love fred. I couldn't sleep with you, I'm sorry. I gotta go"

"Wait, wait. Ok, don't sleep with me then, but, can you just, I don't know, talk to me at least. Please, I really need this."

"Uh, ok. We can talk, sure. What about?"

"I don't know, tell me about your day or something."

As you started telling ron about how your day started, you noticed his hand landing over his clothed dick, starting to palm himself.

"Wait, what.. I'm leaving."

"No, no, please, wait, i really need this. Please. Please."

He was basically begging at this point, and you figured you couldn't let him suffer anymore. He didn't eat, he didn't sleep, he didn't pay attention in class. You had to help him, or so you told yourself. You began talking about how you took a hot shower this morning, soaping up your body and enjoying the hot water, seemingly working, as ron's erection was already visible and growing. At first you averted your eyes, but then, as you got curious-

"You know... If it were me doing this, I'd take down your pants and keep palming you through your boxers, making sure I'm rubbing your tip lightly, just enough to tease you." He was staring at you now, wide pupils and mouth agape. "Well, go ahead. Do that." You nodded your head at him, signaling to follow your command. Ever eager to please, ron did exactly as you told him. You thought having this kind of power over him wasn't that bad after all.

"Then, I'd give you a lick through your boxers. Well, I suppose we'll have to skip that. I'd press down harder, feeling you press your hips into my palm. Yes, just like that". A wet spot was starting to form on ron's underwear. "Take off your boxers. Good. Now, I'd spit on it", you said as you bent over, letting a generous glob of saliva fall from your mouth directly onto ron's hard cock, eliciting a deep moan from him and a buck of his hips. "Now I'd smear it all over and start pumping in a rhytmic motion, a little tighter at the base and moving my thumb over your tip every time I reach the top, gathering your precum and using it as lube, making everything as messy as possible. Ah, you're such a good boy, following my instructions so dutifully." By now, ron was a moaning mess. You reached over and took his shirt off, making his heart beat faster from the closeness. "I figured it was only fair, since you've seen me naked already. What did you thought about? When you watched me in the bathroom? Did you want to be in there with me?" Ron whimpered as he nodded. "Did you thought what it would be like if it was you touching me instead of myself? Maybe you should have entered the bath with me. Take your time touching me all over, open me up on your fingers and then finally getting to see what my pussy would feel like around your cock. Warm and wet and tight just for you. I could've rode you, so you would have my tits in your face. Do you like my tits?" A strangled "fuck yeah" fell from ron's lips as you unbuttoned your shirt, braless tits spilling out, so you could play with your nipples.

"Fuck, I'm close." "Yeah, you're gonna cum for me like a good little boy? Are you thinking where you would cum if we were fucking? On my tits that you love so much? Inside my pussy? On my face, maybe?" Ron was almost delirious with pleasure. He was going cross eyed, drool gathering around his glossy lips. In the heat of the moment, you leaned across his chest, kissing him, the feeling of your tongue against his enough to drive him over the edge, spraying his chest and abdomen full of cum, some of it landing on your hand in the process. You swallowed his moans while kissing him through his high, all tongue and teeth and messy.

After stepping back, you took one last look at the disheveled state that ron was in. It was... hot. "I'm leaving now. Hope this will suffice. And, if it wasn't clear, this will be our secret. If you tell anyone about this, especially fred, I'll make you regret it deeply." You left the room before ron could say anything else. You were feeling dirty. Fred didn't even cross your mind until the very end. I mean, it was ok if you did this just for ron, right? A selfless act to help him get better, you tried to convince yourself, but the wetness between your legs and throbbing clit were telling a different story. Maybe it was time for you to also help... yourself.

~♣️ (I've been living with this in my mind for a few days but university work wouldn't let me write it. Glad to finally share it)

omgomgomgomg. okay soooo obviously i’ve been thinking about this all a lot the past few days, wondering what the next part would include. however…. this exceeded ALL my fucking expectations ??!!!!!!! this is SO much better than anything that crossed my mind these past few days…. like you really are a fucking genius!!!!!!!!

the fact that she didn’t even have sex with ron but GUIDED him like that… AND WHEN SHE SPAT ON HIS COCK ??? i screamed… ! “yeah, you’re gonna cum for me like a good little boy?” AAAAAA !!!!!!!! she’s such a baddie i love her i want her i want to be her. this was so good so perfect i need a moment to recover

[petit-naldo]

After the race.

SHANGHAI - Post Sprint

Carlos returns from the paddock, racing so closely with Charles got him all worked up. I mean, they almost touched. Maybe they did? He's still shaking a little from the adrenaline. But it's okay; he knows the internet is going to either praise him or get mad at him for it. He knows everyone is going to comment, but it's okay. He loves it. He loves racing that way, showing the Latino mode. It's not their first time with Charles; they tacitly agreed that whatever happened on the track would stay on the track and not impact their relationship.

And Charles gave him a thumbs up after the race, so everything is okay. And it's probably just a coincidence if he doesn't run into Charles the whole hour after the race. He focuses on debriefs and interviews.

But when he finally sees him at the end of the garage, back turned towards him, he can't help but run and lightly grab his arm.

"Hey..." he holds his hand out for him to clap.

"Hey," answers Charles rather flatly, not meeting his gaze. Something feels off, but he still asks.

"Are we good?"

"..." Charles finally looks up and grimaces. He feels his stomach churning. Did he really go too far, really? He always makes sure to be very careful with his teammates, especially with Charles, who has always been very respectful towards him. With Charles, whom he particularly appreciates. So he slightly panics and stammers, "but you gave me a thumbs up so I thought that..."

"It wasn't in that way."

"Oh..." Oh, so it was an angry thumbs up. And he responded like an idiot.

"you fucking pushed me off track, Carlos, it could have caused a puncture!"

"You passed me anyway, so why are you mad?" He sees a glint of fiery arrogance in Charles' eyes.

"Because you could have let me! Instead of fighting so hard."

"Oh, let you? In what honor?"

That's new, Charles asking him for favors like that. He lets out a little laugh, and Charles blushes and says, "Not let me... just not fight me so much."

"But I'm a fighter, we are fighters... on track and chess," he tries to lighten the mood by lowering his voice a little bit, gives Charles a little bump on the shoulder, smiles... "you said it yourself in the interview... I heard you."

He tries to pinch his side, but Charles squirms away still annoyed, brows furrowed, but he knows him so well, he sees his eyes are about to laugh already because no matter how much he wants it, Charles can never stay mad at him for too long. Spanish charm.

But he is mature, and if Charles is annoyed, even a little bit, the air needs to be cleared. So he stops teasing, comes back to being serious, and presents his hand in front of him as a peace offering.

Charles meets his eyes defiantly, wondering, but slowly slowly reaches to hold it. He feels Carlos' fingers wrapping around his own, warm and strong, steady. It's strangely comforting. He'd like to hold onto them for a while, ground himself back after this madness.

"I'm sorry, if I went a bit too far. I'm sorry, didn't mean for you to think it was aggressive." His voice is low and warm, and Charles receives it like a hug. He loses himself in the big brown pupils for a while, then swallows, mouth suddenly dry, and nods a little bit, acknowledging the apology.

"We good?" asks Carlos, back to being smirky with a blink and a wide smile.

"Yes,"

And Carlos smiles even wider and pulls his hand toward his lips to give it a kiss.

"My lord..."

"STOP IT, Carhlos!" and Charles feels his face burn, pretends to be offended, and pulls back his hand, pushing him lightly on the shoulder in retaliation. His heart races like crazy.

They head towards the common room, bickering.

"Now we'll have to explain this to Fred," sighs Carlos, anticipating the scolding.

Charles nods, unfocused.

He can't help but wonder how Carlos' lips would have felt like.

[sunkissedscribbles]

Prejudiced - Chapter One

this is only a part of the series, the next chapters can be found here

a/n: hey lovelies! i’m starting this ff called ‘prejudiced’ and am gonna be posting the chapters here, as well as on wattpad (more info on my page). i only made a minor change compared to wattpad because i’m going to be merging 2-3 wattpad chapters when posting here. so, here is the first one, i hope you’ll like it!!

word count: 3478

tw: my bad writing.

summary: cassie and mattheo bonding

next chapter>

dividers by @chachachannah

Empty and half-empty bottles of firewhisky all over the place; on tables, under the chairs and the sofas, and loud music — this is how the Gryffindors celebrate a win against any of the other Quidditch teams of Hogwarts. These are the only nights we are "allowed" to stay up late, celebrating and drinking as if we were in a pub. More like, this is the only occasion the teachers don't bother to send us ruthlessly to bed.

The smell of alcohol in the air is sickening and I feel a little bit dizzy as there is no air left in the common room. I get up from the floor where we are sitting in a circle, playing the most cliché game ever; truth or dare, then head toward the portrait hole.

As the portrait shuts behind me, I no longer hear the people who are partying in the common room, nor do I hear the music that is playing in there. For a few moments, the sudden silence is deafening and my ears need a few seconds to recover from the internal beeping in my head.

Now it's silent.

There's not a sound except for the quiet snickering coming from the portraits and for my breathing. The castle is still and as always, it feels like someone's or something's watching me. But I know that's not true as long as I don't spot Mrs Norris. I turn around to see if she's there but as I make sure not a soul is here to catch me sneaking out of the common room at this ungodly hour, I make my way towards the Astronomy Tower, hoping to find peace and some fresh air there.

The noise was too much for me in the common room, the too many people made the air hard to breathe for me, and I started to feel like I didn't occupy my own body, as if I was watching my life and actions from outside my body. It happens quite often, my senses get overwhelmed, and all the impulses I got in the past hour made me a little sleepy and disassociated, that's why I decided to hunt for some peace and air.

As I reach the top level of the tower, I stop for a moment. I can see someone smoking by the railing. How did I not notice the smell of smoke when coming up here? I tend to zone out; I can't even recall my way here and it's so weird when I think about it.

From behind, I can't exactly tell who I'm looking at other than figuring out it's a boy and I'd leave as he must be looking for some alone time if he's here this late, without company but he turns around to see who's interrupting his me-time.

Do boys even have me-time?

It's Mattheo Riddle. My eyes meet his dark brown ones that reflect the moon's bright shine. He stiffens in his whole body as he locks his gaze with mine, the cigarette he was smoking already by his foot, stomped on and I can see his features harden, his hands clenching into fists warningly like he was about to throw punches without hesitation if needed. He probably would, though — he's the kind to get his hands dirty the Muggle way.

I feel sorry for him as I realize only being in someone's company whom he hasn't really talked to before is enough to make him go defensive in a split second. I have honestly always felt a kind of sympathy for him for being instantly prejudiced against by everyone only because of his father. I got judged too, but he for sure has it worse.

I recall the moment from earlier today when Fred and George played a prank on him. I hadn't seen what happened or what the prank was and only got to know anything had happened at all when getting ready for the match. Those two are one year ahead of me and have been my best friends since my first year at Hogwarts. As soon as I overheard they did something to Mattheo that he hadn't even deserved, I scolded them instantly and reminded them how similar my situation is to his; being prejudiced and judged by everyone when learning your surname. They always think of the worst things when they learn I'm a Black-descendant.

For a second, I get quite bold and without even approaching Mattheo, I look into his eyes.

"I want to apologize in the name of Fred and George for what they did today. I know you didn't deserve it and now they know it too." I tell him, not frightened by him a slight bit like other students would be.

"Why would you do that?" he barks back, his tone harsh and incredulous.

"Because those gits are too proud to apologize themselves. The perfect stereotype of a Gryffindor, I guess," I offer him a light smile as I shrug.

He seems cold as ice and it would probably be the best option to leave him alone but staying here is so tempting and I'm willing to earn at least the smallest of smiles from him. There is something in him, in his presence that makes me want to stay here.

I approach and join him leaning on the railing with my forearms as I look up at the sky.

"I thought the sky wasn't so cloudy tonight." I try to engage in small talk with him, getting him to say something but the ice he got himself locked into seems unbreakable.

I must admit we both are in our fourth year at Hogwarts so we are classmates but have talked probably once or twice before; we have never really got the chance to. I have always wanted to talk to him and maybe become friends but he seemed way out of my league; we aren't in the same caste, in spite of having mutual friends. He's the reserved, cold Slytherin boy, Riddle heir whereas I'm a rather cheerful Gryffindor — quite an annoying one, I must admit. But I have always set my hopes high and this moment seems like the perfect chance to try to break the ice. To see what's under that cold gaze, ruthless and mean facial expression. Because from what I've seen so far, he's almost stoic, restrained in a way of keeping any emotions under control — except for his anger. This boy clearly has problems with keeping his temper in check; but don't all who've grown up into families of the Sacred Twenty-Eight?

"You come here often? Haven't seen you here yet." I try to talk to him again and to my biggest surprise, he does answer.

"We don't have to talk. We are only at the same place by pure accident."

His tone is snarky, clearly not in the mood to chat with me but yet again, I am determined.

"You know, you're not the only one with a troubled family line." I turn my head in his direction, my tone somewhat low and serious.

I catch him off guard with this statement and the sudden change in the subject, I can tell that just by how his gaze softens for a moment, losing his indifferent, stern look for a slight second before regaining his will over his expressions.

But as he doesn't reply with anything, I keep on going.

"I get prejudiced a lot too."

"Doesn't seem to affect you," he mumbles under his breath.

"Not a hard thing to cope with," I shrug — it's a lie.

"Easy to say if you're in Gryffindor," he huffs, becoming defensive once again.

"Those are just stereotypes." I brush it off with a bitter undertone to which my shoulders visibly tense up. "I could be in Hufflepuff and be a Death Eater as well. Your house doesn't define you. Slytherins can be good people too. They are just misunderstood."

He thinks about what I have just said. His gaze slowly but surely softens a little.

He lets out a small, bitter laugh that's barely more than the air he blew out through his nose.

"But isn't being in Slytherin in my case a bit..."

"Sinister?" I ask. He nods. "I guess it sounds that a little bit, yeah. But it's up to you what you do with it. I mean, isn't being in Gryffindor as a Black a little..."

"Ridiculous?" now he asks and I nod. "It is. Not ordinary for a Black to go against their family's will."

"My family can suck it," I say straightforwardly. "They are just people who think a big dynasty makes them greater than the rest of the world's population with inbreeding and following the same old-fashioned pureblood-maniac views."

He looks at me, a little taken aback by my bluntness but the side of his lips curl up into a small smirk. This is what I call progress.

"The black sheep of the family, are you then?"

"Could say so," I shrug with a sly smile that's my body's natural reaction to seeing someone smile at me. Plus, I'm happy I've got him to talk to me. I'm making history tonight. "What about you?"

"Me? I thought you know who I am," he smirks humourlessly; I can see a hint of bitterness and pain in his eyes.

"I know who your biological father is but that's only blood, isn't it? That doesn't define you," I smile, trying to enlighten his mood with a sympathetic facial expression.

He bites his bottom lip as he lets out a little chuckle, but again, a humourless one.

"I know you have heard the rumours. Last year, everyone thought I opened the Chamber of Secrets. I'm bloody sick of them thinking they know me only because I'm the heir to the Dark Lord. They think I'm untrustworthy and will stab them in the back as soon as they turn around. And the Slytherins that are Death Eaters' children? They expect me to lead them, they want me to be the next Voldemort now that he's gone," he turns his head facing away from me for a moment, biting his lip again before sighing and looking back at me. "I just want to be normal for once, y'know."

I nod with understanding shining in my eyes. I've been through this too and I'm glad he opened up at least this much; to not become defensive at my every look and word and telling me he's had enough of the judgemental people he's had to face in his life.

I also remember last year, when people were convinced he was the one to open the chamber under the castle's basement until they'd seen and heard Harry interact with the snake summoned by Draco during the duelling lesson.

"Thank you," I say.

He looks at me, confused, "What?"

"You were honest," I smile lightly but genuinely, and to this gesture, his eyes light up a bit but I'm not sure if he's aware of that. "But you didn't answer my question. Who are you?"

A small smirk, that could have easily been missed, appears on his face, "You'll have to figure it out."

The next few days go by with only a slight difference to how it has been before. Due to the amount I have to study, I don't even seem to balance my study time and my free time and I feel like I'm going absolutely insane.

But that is not the difference I'm talking about.

The contrast is, that we always say hi to each other with Mattheo in class and when walking by each other. I know it's not much but I'm just glad we are actually going somewhere and small progress is still progress, isn't it?

Currently, I'm studying in the library, writing my essay for Astronomy class but I just don't seem to be able to force myself to concentrate anymore so I quickly decide to get some fresh air and head to the Astronomy Tower instead. And, listening to Lavender gossiping only a few tables away from me also bothered me so I am glad for a good reason to escape the four walls of the castle too.

I'm pleased to see there's no one up in the tower so I sit down with my back against a large column, and opening my books, I start to finish my essay about myths that have something to do with astronomy. For this topic, I chose the myth of how Perseus saved Andromeda and of course, the antecedents of it; how and why she got on that rock which was her parents' fault — Cassiopeia and Cepheus. Is it egocentric to tell the myth of the woman I got my name after? Those bloody Blacks and their favouritism over fucked up names!

I could've just written about Hercules and include Leo, Taurus, and Hydra. Or could've just put the main focus on Medusa. Screw it...

I get lost in my thoughts somewhere in the middle of a sentence whilst staring up at the sky with my head tilted back against the column. I am completely at ease, zoned out, so much so that I don't even notice the footsteps approaching me, only when I hear someone call my name.

"Black?" Mattheo's voice shakes me out of my thoughts as he looks down at me.

"Hiya, Mattheo," I smile up at him before he sits beside me, looking curiously at the parchment in my hand.

"Whatcha doing?"

"My essay for Astronomy. You done it already?"

"Didn't even know there was anything to do," he shrugs it off nonchalantly. "What's the topic?"

"Myths that have something to do with astronomy."

"You chose Cassiopeia, I suppose?" he looks at me softly, and I nod. I love to see how he let down his shield a little bit already. But I can't get over the fact he knows about the myth. He smiles as he notices the confused look on my face. "You got your name after her?"

"I did. Most members of 'The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black' have their names after objects in the sky. My cousin's got his name after Draco, the dragon. He's a year younger than us."

"Yeah, I know him. He's annoying," he nods and I chuckle at his statement.

We stay silent for a little while, processing the things said between us. My mind is racing, just as usual. Now that I think about it, I think it's unique and a great tradition to name your kids after such things as stars, galaxies, and constellations but I would've preferred a name that's not after a cruel woman like Cassiopeia; I know it wasn't her choice to sacrifice her daughter but if I were her, I'd rather jump into the mouth of the Cetus myself than doing that to my child. But still, I must agree with the fact that my name is beautiful and the meaning of it suits me pretty well; she, who chooses to excel.

"Do you know what your name means?" I ask out of thin air as I shake myself out of my thoughts.

Mattheo looks at me with a confused look on his face; I really did catch him off guard with this question. Me and my impulsivity (and my rushing thoughts), I guess.

"I-I don't know? Never thought about looking it up. Never really cared. Why?"

"Nothing, I was just thinking," I smile lightly, shaking my head, thinking about it. "Could be either the Hebrew or Italian version to the English Matthew which means 'gift of God,'" I squint my eyes slightly while thinking.

He furrows his brows slightly at my explanation and he looks up at the sky. It's becoming darker and darker outside and I can see a bright star already. Must be Sirius, judging by how we are already in February.

I then remember the rumour of Sirius Black being in Hogwarts. How would that even be possible? I mean-

"What is the meaning of your name?" he asks me after a few seconds, interrupting my train of thought.

"She, who chooses to excel," I answer without thinking. The sides of his lips curl into a little smirk.

"Fits you," is all he says. A small smile creeps upon my lips.

We don't talk much more for a long time and I go back to finish the sentence that I stopped writing in the middle, now really intending to finish the essay.

After a few minutes of simply staring at the sky, Mattheo gets up from beside me and walks to the railing, grabbing his pack of cigs. I don't even need to look up to know what he's about to do. His fag is already between his lips but doesn't seem to have a lighter on him, I assume by how he's looking into all of his pockets.

"I think it's a sign to stop damaging yourself, especially at fourteen," I comment in a rather annoyed tone. One thing I could never bear is people smoking around me. They really don't care about the consequences of it, do they?

"Live fast, die pretty," he shrugs. "Plus, I'm fifteen."

I roll my eyes with a little smirk.

"What difference does it make?" I ask but as soon as I say it out loud, a song with the same title starts playing in my head and I can't help but think "What's wrong with me when this happens?" Because it happens a lot.

"Got no light, anyway."

"You've got a wand, dumbass," I chuckle.

He rolls his eyes and pretends to be annoyed as he pulls out his wand from the pocket of his jeans. I look up at him from the bottom of the column with my almost-finished essay in hand; he's wearing a white short-sleeve with a black long-sleeve under it, blue jeans, and his black Converse. We have matching shoes, I think as I look at my feet. I can't hold back a small smile at this coincidence but I can't seem to manage to make up a good reason as to why this triggers such a reaction in me — honestly, I don't even really care.

From the corner of my eye, I sense him looking at me right after I get back to my homework. These are my very last sentences before finishing the essay, now for real, and I can't help but notice how my butt hurts by now; I've been sitting here for almost an hour by this time.

Stretching out and cracking my neck, I get up and walk up to the railing, leaning on it with my forearms next to the boy. The light wind plays with my brown hair as I look down at the water. I shift my gaze up at the sky, admiring the stars that are barely noticeable just yet.

He looks at my face and I don't look at him until I pop out the question that's been bothering me for a while now. "Do you think we have a choice on who we'll be? Like, our kind?"

"Our kind?"

I nod. "Those who come from troubled families and families with great past. Do you think we'll ever be able to just... live a normal life without people thinking we'll bring destruction?"

He thinks for a moment before answering, "I thought you said you'd shown people your family doesn't define you?"

"That's never enough," now it's my turn to let out a bitter laugh. "I could do anything to prove them wrong, they expect me to show up with a Dark Mark one day and cause people's deaths. Just because I came from a pureblood-maniac family with views that support Voldemort even after his fall, even if no Blacks have raised me, even with dancing on the edge of getting disowned, that's not enough."

"No Blacks have raised you?" he asks. I hope that's not the only thing that he caught from what I've said though.

"Dad died shortly after I was born. Grandparents dead, uncle in Azkaban. I mean... he was. Mum has raised me on her own-"

"So Sirius Black really is your uncle," he realizes before stomping on his cigarette and I nod.

"His brother was my father," I answer shortly. "People say I must've helped him escape behind my back."

"Yea, I've heard. So did you?" he asks with a sly smirk to enlighten the mood.

"Shut up, Riddle," I nudge him with my elbow with a grateful, easy laugh. It feels natural to talk to him this openly, for some reason.

"Make me, Black," he leans closer with a grin and I roll my eyes before turning my head to face the sky again. He seems like he's getting comfortable around me by the second which makes me quite... happy.

thank you for reading the first chapter! i intend to release chapters every wednesday. comment if you'd like to be tagged<3

[the-offside-rule]

Dennis Hauger (MP Motorsport) - It's Cold Outside

Requested: yes

Prompt: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeyAPq23/

Warnings:

Dennis and Y/n enjoyed a leisurely stroll through the charming streets of Norway, the crisp air and picturesque scenery creating a perfect setting. Their friends had just welcomed a newborn into the world, and the couple happily volunteered to take the baby for a walk since their friends had been busy keeping up with college and work. As they meandered through the cobbled streets, the Norwegian landscape unfolded around them, and the couple chatted with friends about the joys and challenges of parenthood. "It's quite cold. I say we go get a coffee or something soon." Dennis suggested. "Yeah, sure. Sounds good." Y/n chirped, happily pushing the stroller along.

Y/n carefully maneuvered the stroller to the entrance, but Dennis gently halted her. "What are you doing?" He asked. "Coming into the café? What's the problem?" Dennis pointed to the other strollers each parked up one next to the other. "Oh, no strollers inside?" She asked. "You don't need to bring the stroller inside, love. It's a Norwegian thing – we leave them outside." Y/n raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Outside? But what if someone takes the baby or it gets cold?" Dennis chuckled. "It's a safe country, and leaving strollers outside is common. It's like a communal trust thing. And don't worry; Norway is known for its warmth, even in chilly weather."

Although still unsure, Y/n reluctantly left the stroller by the entrance, exchanging uneasy glances with her friends. "What are we going to tell Julie and Fred if their baby goes missing?" Y/n asks, peeking out the window every few seconds. "We won't have to because it will never happen. Julie and Fred do this all the time." She grumbled in response, her eyes not leaving the sight of the stroller. Y/n couldn't shake off her concern, leaning in to whisper. "Dennis, I'm not sure about leaving the stroller outside. It just doesn't feel right." He reassured her. "Trust me, it's normal here. It's part of the culture. Look, we can sit by the window so you can keep an eye on her, okay?" She nodded, before making her way to the small table by the window where she watched the baby stroller intently.

Dennis joined shortly after, holding their cups and placing them down onto the table. engaged Y/n in a conversation about their day, sharing laughs and tender moments. The café's warm ambiance eased Y/n's unease, and she began to appreciate the cultural nuances.

As they sipped their coffee, Y/n couldn't help but ask, "Why do they leave strollers outside, though? It still seems strange to me." Dennis grinned. "It's about community and trust. People here believe in looking out for one another. Plus, it's more convenient than lugging strollers inside crowded spaces. It's a blend of tradition and practicality." Y/n nodded. "Any benefits? Just curious." Dennis shrugged and folded his arms, leaning onto the table. "It's believed to boost their immune systems, foster independence, and connect with nature." He explained. "Or at least, that's that's my mother said to me."

"It's still a bit odd for me, but I guess I have to just get used to it since I'm moving here with you soon." Dennis beamed, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Exactly, love. Eventually, when we have kids we will be doing this. It's just tradition." Y/n arched a brow. "When we have kids?" She chuckled. "Well, I don't plan on leaving you anytime soon, do you?" Y/n shook her head. "Then when we have kids, they'll be sleeping outside every so often." Y/n hummed in response. "We're a little young, though." Dennis agreed. "Yeah, but in a few years I'd say we could. You never know." Y/n smiled, reaching over to take his hand in hers. "You get so-" She paused, thinking for a moment. "Romantic?" Dennis, smiled. "I was going to say soppy but that works too."

[3lle-l-black]

The Lapse (Part 2)

George Weasley x Reader

Part 1

Warnings: English isn't my first language, use of you/your, use of she/her sometimes, swear words, beginning writer/not reviewed 🧡

George slowly opens his eyes.

Head spinning a little from lying down still drunk, me he looks around and mentally thanks when he realizes that he's in his own bed, even without know how he got there. George only remembers that you brought him home, the rest is all messed up. He turns around and sinks his face into the pillow, ‘Maybe if I don't move, my head will stop hating me’.

Luckily, George always dealt well with hangovers, he knew he would be fine soon. After a few minutes of complete silence, the bedroom door creaks and Fred slowly enters the room, looking for his brother with a glass of water in one hand.

"Are you awake yet?" — Fred's face lights up with a mischievous smile, and he gives the foot of the bed a little kick. George lets out a muffled grunt before turning over and sitting up. Fred's smile softens as he sits next to his brother on the bed, "Seriously, are you okay? When I arrived yesterday, you were already asleep."

"Yeah, just a little dizzy, but" — George reaches over and takes the glass from his brother's hand. "I think I had a dream" — He drinks the water in a hurry.

"A dream?"

"I dreamed that I told her that I like her," George speaks each word hesitantly, looking at the bottom of the empty glass. "Was it just a dream, right?" — He says placing the glass on the dresser next to the bed, his voice tinged with hope. Hope this isn't a memory messed up by alcohol. Hope that he hasn't ruined everything with you.

Don't get it wrong. He wants to tell you, he even has a plan to ask you out and tell you, a very elaborate plan, by the way. He just doesn't know when he'll do it. Fred gets lost in his own thoughts, eyes fixed on a corner of the room, trying to remember something that could help his brother.

"Well, when she said it was better for you to go home, you said you would only go with her" — Fred starts rambling about the last night. "You even preferred walking back instead of using magic, just so you could 'spend more time with her,' and I might have seen you hugging her as you left the bar. So I'm pretty sure it wasn't a dream."

George rub his face with his hands, letting out an indignant growl. Did he really tell you? What if you didn't want to talk to him anymore or felt uncomfortable around him from now on? As if Fred could hear his twin's thoughts, he pats George's back, trying to comfort him.

"It's not a bad thing, we both know you've wanted to say this for a while, and I know she likes you too," he pauses, even though you never said it out loud, he knows you do. "We are already adults, the excuse that you will wait to see if it isn't just teenage love doesn't work anymore."

"I know"

"Not even the excuse of making the store work first, or the excuse of waiting for the right moment, or"

"Okay, I understood" — George slaps his brother's chest with the back of his hand, not too hard, enough for Fred to stop talking.

"Aggressive" — Fred held his chest in false offense, "Get ready soon so we can open"

The rest of the day was lazy. The weather was cloudy, the cold outside contrasting with the warm atmosphere inside the WWW, making the place more cozy, the sky was threatening rain and the store was quieter than last week. Fred stopped in front of one of the huge windows, watching outside, while George went upstairs to clean up the mess left over from the weekend. Throughout the day, George remembered one thing or another that he had said to you, so he was trying to keep his mind busy to avoid serving a customer with a red face.

Somewhere between tidying up the last shelf and throwing away an empty box, George remembered you complaining about the difficulty of opening their front door. "Bloody hell" — He curses himself under his breath as he rubs his face, trying to shake off the shame of having hung onto you like a spoiled child. Or a clingy boyfriend.

George rests his forearms on the railing and lets his head fall between his shoulders, eyes fixed on the floor and his mind doing what it does best: coming up with a plan and thinking about you. As if the universe is in a good mood, the doorbell rings and a familiar voice, greeting Fred, can be heard.

Your voice, sending shivers down George's back.

He lifts his head, looking for you, his body reacting faster than he cares to admit. You enter WWW, immediately enveloped by the cozy warmth. You don't bother taking off your coat; there's a light rain outside and the stores are starting to close, so you wouldn't stay long.

"I just stopped by to say hi," you greet Fred and look around, missing the other redhead.

When your eyes meet and George realizes you've caught him looking at you, a shy smile plays on his lips. You smile back waving at him, trying to decide between to face the situation head-on or pretend nothing happened.

"I came to see if you were okay. Are you ok?" — There's a playful tone in your voice, you really care, but seeing George awkward like that is funny and a little cute. He clears his throat and composes himself before answering you.

"Yes, and you? It's late. Are you going home?" — You live in an apartment above your own store, similar to the twins' place. It isn't that far from the WWW but it was already dark, and even though he knew you knew how to protect yourself, George was always worried about you walking alone.

"Yeah, I planned to walk back, but the day was busy, it got dark in the blink of an eye, so..."

"Do you want company?" — A wave of confidence hits George, "They say I'm great company, if you want..."

Fred, behind you, shoots a quick OK sign and an exaggerated wink towards George. It takes you a few seconds to respond, the idea of talking about yesterday appearing in your mind, a mix of emotions hitting you.

"Okay, I'd love to," you say.

George goes downstairs, picks up his jacket that was leaning on a counter, and puts it on, while you head towards the exit. Before you can open the door, George arrives first and opens it for you. Taking care of you has always come naturally to him.

You made small talk most of the way. You talked about the weather, the new store in the alley, everything except what had been on your mind all day. That is, until a couple passed by you – a drunk girl and a boy helping her. They laugh as she hugs his arm, almost making them fall.

They walk away and a silence settles, broken only by the light rain and the sounds of shoes on the wet ground.

"About last night, I'm sorry for making you take care of me," George says as you walk side by side, using the storefronts as an umbrella from the fine rain. He swallows hard. It had always been easy to talk to you; he didn’t know why it was so difficult now.

"It's okay, I don't mind. You leaned on me like a koala, but I like taking care of you," you reply throwing him a small smile. You know George would always help you, why wouldn't you do the same for him? What you don't know is what this simple sentence did to George.

He feels amazing, like every time he is with you. His heart races, and a warmth spreads through his chest.

"And what I said..." George speaks slowly, analyzing your reaction. You click your tongue as if you don't care but start fiddling with your fingers nervously. It wasn't hard to fall in love with George; even Fred jokes about you acting like lovers since your 4th year at Hogwarts. But since he didn't make the first move, you conclude that you've fallen in love alone.

"There's no need to worry, Georgie. I don't believe the words of drunk people", you say, crossing the street and looking down, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. But George stops. Something clicks in his head with your sentence; he doesn't want you to think it was a lie. George would never lie about it.

Damn, he had to be exhausted and drunk to be able to tell you, but he meant it. George is really good at doing stupid things; luckily, he's also good at solving them. Maybe he can fix the mess he made yesterday.

"I'm not drunk now" he says loudly, making you stop. George tenses as you turn to him with a confused look on your face, the drizzle catching you now, "If I say it again now, would you believe it?"

"Are you serious? Like, do you really mean it?" — Your voice comes out louder than you expected, you weren't mad, just surprise. The possibility that you are hallucinating crosses your mind, but the sincerity in George's eyes tells you otherwise. George didn't want to hide this from you anymore, even if it made you hate him. If you want to hit him for ruining your friendship, Merlin knows he would let you.

You take a deep breath. "I would believe"

He lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. George looks at you with wide eyes, like a deer caught in headlights, trying to process the situation.

"I wanna be" — Before he can finish, the drizzle turns into heavy rain, drowning out the noise around you and soaking your clothes. Without hesitation, George grabs your hand and runs towards your place, the rain and his gentle touch catching you off guard. Luckily, your store isn't far away and has a large facade where you can escape the rain.

As soon as we both huddle under the shelter, bursting into laughter, he lets go of my hand to fix some strands of hair that stuck to his face, and I have to hold myself back so I don't grab him again. "Don't worry, you're already pretty enough" — I say as George uses the window as a mirror. I run my fingers through my wet hair and wipe the cold water off my face as much as I can.

George let out a chuckle, "And people say I'm the flirt" — He says shaking his head, as if in disbelief. How can someone be so idiotic and handsome at the same time?

"Cause you're" — He turns to me with his eyes wide and his jaw dropped, if I didn't know George, I would be worried. Quickly, his expression changes to a proud one, he shrugs with a smug smile, enjoying the compliment. We stand in front of each other, the cold breeze passes through both of us and although the wet clothes are starting to bother me, I don't want to leave here. Not without knowing first.

Maybe I shouldn't have waited for him to take the initiative, maybe I should do it, I'll do it.

"So," — I keep my hands in my pockets, trying to ignore the cold, trying to look more confident. "You were saying..."

"I was saying that... we can be more, you know?" — He plays with his eyebrows making me laugh. George has a calm smile that contrasts with the hesitant step he takes closer to me. I wanna tell him that he can stop with the nonsense.

Go direct to the point.

But what's the fun in that?

"Hmm? What do you wanna be?" — I lean in, letting my hands draw circles on his chest as I try to calm my heart. His body feels warm against the slightly cold weather around us; 'I feel my body getting warm too'. George catches on to my teasing, the expression changing, a lustful gleam passing through his eyes.

His gaze shifts from my eyes to my lips and I have to take a deep breath, George gently places his hands on each side of my waist and pulls me closer. Our chests touch and I'm sure George can feel my heart racing, the tension between us palpable in the air, crackling like electricity.

"You know what I want, sweet"

"Yeah, but I want to hear it. I need to hear you say it"

"Fuck..." — George's breath catches against my skin. He leans in, your mouth hovers over my ear. Knowing the effect this would have on me, he whispers

"I wanna be yours"

The heart skipping a beat, George's warm breath sending shivers down your spine, and for a moment you lose your breath. You turn your faces at the same time. Eye contact returns, but the confident pose and provocative look that you had a few seconds ago is gone.

George could admire you for hours from this position, but now was not the time for that, without hesitation, he closed the gap between you and captured your lips in a passionate kiss, making a sigh escape you. Your hand instinctively reached out, fingers curling around a fold of his coat.

George holds your hand tightly, as if you could disappear, holding on to the one he always wanted and wouldn't let go so soon now that he finally has.

And it feels so right.

Like you always should have been here.

Your tongues explore each other and George's hand travels over your body, hugging your waist. The feeling of his lips on yours is soft, his touch is soft, in contrast to the hunger for the kiss. The intensity of the kiss slowly fades, and with one last peck, you reluctantly part, but George doesn't move away from you.

He rests his forehead on yours, the breaths mingling with the cold wind, you stayed like that for a while, enjoying the moment, in no rush to separate. George lets out a low muffled laugh as you wrapped your arms around his waist inside the suit, you're still feeling the heat of the moment, but now the breeze is starting to get to you. George's face lights up with the same pretty smile you've always loved.

He admires you with red cheeks and ear tips. 'I must not look different', you think, looking at him with a downcast gaze. George hugs you and you snuggle into his chest. "Are you cold?" — He asks, adjusting the sides of his jacket around you as much as he can.

"Yes" — You pause, gathering the courage to ask, "It's really cold out here, do you want to come in?"

"Come in? Like... just until the rain stops or spending the night?” — George jokes, unable to stop looking at you, with a twinkle in his eyes. 'You shift your weight from one foot to the other muttering a low drawl 'yeah'.

"I don't know, I just want to spend more time with you, If you don't wanna"

Before you can finish, George interrupts you, "If I ever say no to you, I want you to take your wand and curse me. I'm talking about an Avadra" — You laugh loudly pushing him lightly.

···•···

Bônus: "Just so you know, if you hadn't slept, you would have heard me say I wanted to be more than friends sooner, idiot." — You say with a wide smile on your face looking for the key in your coat pocket.

"I was exhausted. You're lucky I turned off after we were already inside the house." — George says, hugging you from behind and purposely making it difficult for you to open the door.

···•···

This should have been post sooner but oh well, I posted, that's what matters It's my first time writing a kiss and I don't think it's amazing but it was fun to do so... i hope you like 🧡

[george-weasleys-girl]

Hello lovely I don't know if you might like this idea but I was wondering if you could do story where the reader is from a Slytherin and George's friends tell him he can't make the girl fall in love with him, so he does it and she does false for him and he also falls for her and then she finds out that it was all a bet, and I don't know you can give it the end you want I just have that idea in my mind from a long time and I think you are the only one that can make it truth , also if you can make it Smutty that will be great. Anyway if you don't do it it's okay I just thought I could ask you and well thank you and I love your writing and I also love your George stories.🥰

The Serpent and the Lion

George Weasley x Fem Slytherin!reader

Chapter 1

Warnings: none, yet. Hint at angst. Smut, eventually.

~•~

George had never expected things to get serious. At most, it'd be a quick fling. If it even got that far. He never actually believed that a Slytherin would fall for a Gryffindor. And yet, she did.

And he fell for her.

Hard.

Harder than he'd ever fallen for anyone in his life.

And now it all lay in ruins because his stupid twin brother couldn't keep his big mouth shut.

"I can't believe you actually fell in love with her," Fred stared at his twin.

"Well, I did!" George clapped back. "And now, thanks to you, her heart is broken! And so is mine..." The last bit came out as barely a whisper, but Fred heard it anyway.

"Look mate, I - I'm sorry. I never thought that little crush of yours - " he reached out to pat George's shoulder, but his twin shrugged him off.

"Leave me alone," he mumbled and rose to grab his coat.

"Where are you going?" Fred stepped in front of him.

"I don't know. Somewhere I can think. Somewhere I can maybe figure out how to win Y/N back." He pushed around Fred. "Somewhere away from you."

~•~

3 months earlier

"I'm not fifteen years old anymore," George rolled his eyes.

"No, but you did have a crush on her when you were fifteen," Fred countered. "Now's your chance."

"I did not have a crush on her."

"Oh really?" Fred teased. "Is that why you were sneaking peeks at her every five seconds?"

"I was not sneaking... Look, I'll admit she's pretty... was pretty," George huffed. "But that didn't mean I wanted to go out with her. She's a Slytherin. Opposite of Gryffindor. Enemy of Gryffindor. In case you've forgotten."

Fred raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Hey, if you think you've lost your touch..."

"Yeah, you are a little out of practice these days," Lee grinned. "When was the last time you went out on a date? Three months?"

"Or is it six months?" Fred smirked.

"Oh shove off, the both of you," George muttered and headed for the door. "I'm going for a walk."

"Uh huh. A walk, you say," Lee teased.

"Hey! Don't forget to say hello to our new neighbor for me," Fred yelled as his twin stomped away.

~•~

'How did they remember that stupid little crush?' George wondered, slamming the door behind him.

Hell, how did they even notice? He'd never said anything. To anyone. Not even Fred.

George sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. He should've known. Of course, Fred had noticed.

And remembered.

And now that Y/N had opened up an apothecary next door to the joke shop, Fred dove in for the kill. Because that's what Fred did.

~•~

George wandered around the new apothecary in awe. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. Gone were the barrels of oozing slime. Gone was the smell of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Instead, the once horrid miasma was replaced with the scent of mint and fresh flowers. Everything sparkled and gleamed as if it were brand new.

"Hi," said a soft voice behind him. "Can I help you find something?"

"Oh, um, hi," George fumbled. "I was, uh, just taking a look around. New shop and all," he turned in a slow circle. "It's loads different than the last apothecary. Brighter. Cleaner. Not a dungheap."

"Oh good," she nodded, the corners of her lips quirking up. "Not a dungheap was the exact aesthetic I was going for."

"Wait, I didn't mean ‐ " George whirled around to face her, his ears burning red hot. "I just meant that you've worked wonders. I can see my reflection in the chair cushions."

Y/N burst out laughing, sending an uncertain smile, along with a new wave of heat across his face. "You can see your reflection in the chair cushions? I'll take that as a compliment. Especially coming from the illustrious George Weasley."

George's jaw dropped. "You know who I am?"

"Of course I know who you are," she grinned. "Doesn't every ‐ "

" 'Scuse me miss," an elderly gentleman interrupted, tapping Y/N on the shoulder. "Could you tell me where to find the Horklump juice?"

"Of course, sir. Right this way," she said, then turned back to George. "If you need help with anything, just let me know."

The redhead watched Y/N as she disappeared around the corner, his mind tumbling back to his school days when a person was defined by their House, and the very idea of a Gryffindor dating a Slytherin was downright sacrilege.

Now, it didn't matter. Well, not as much. Things were changing. Albeit slowly. Yet, they were changing.

But more to the point...

She knew who he was.

George.

Not one of the Weasley twins.

Not Gred or Forge.

George.

She knew him.

~•~

"You're still here!" Y/N smiled, looking genuinely surprised. "I would've thought you'd be long gone by now."

Normally, he would have, being nearly an hour before she made her way back over to him. But she changed all that the moment she called him by his name. He was hooked now. "Decided to do a little bit of shopping," he said with a non-chalant shrug. "I noticed you have a few rare items." He held up a large sachet of Winterweed.

"Ah, Winterweed," Y/N nodded. "One of my most popular and hard to keep in stock items. It's because their growing time is so long. It takes two years for them to reach full maturity," she explained. "Not to mention, to achieve full potency, they must be harvested in the three days surrounding the winter solstice."

"Huh," George looked thoughtful. "I knew about the first part, but not the second."

"Most people don't, and too many producers take advantage of that and sell sub-par products at premium prices," she shook her head and opened up the sachet, pulling out a small vine. "See this vein running through the middle?"

George nodded, peering down at the little herb.

"It should be a bright neon blue. If it's white or pale blue, it was picked too early. If it's purple, it was picked too late."

"Wow, thanks," George marveled, uncertain whether he was more mesmerized by the unrestrained passion in her voice or the bright sparkle dancing in her eyes when she talked about something she so obviously loved.

"Of course," she smiled. "Is there anything else I can help you with before I ring you up?"

"How 'bout dinner?" he blurted out.

"Dinner?" Y/N froze, her eyes staring unblinking into his for a few long moments. "Did you just ask me out?"

"Y-yeah," George stammered. "I did."

She scrutinized him for a few seconds longer. "Why?"

The younger twin was taken aback. "Why?"

"Yeah. Why do you want to go out with me?"

"Because you... um... because you knew me. You knew I'm George. Not Fred. That doesn't happen often. Actually, that really doesn't happen at all. Not on the first meeting anyway."

"Oh," Y/N blinked. "Well, ok, then." A shy smile crossed her face. "Dinner sounds great."

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1Lellykins @junerprsh @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe

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[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

UNDER THE MOONLIGHT

Pairings: George weasley x Fem!reader Summary: George confesses his love for you under the moon Warnings: none Note: this is a shorty

George smiled as he watched you looking up at the night sky, admiring the bright circle in the sky that orbits the earth.

he had brought you to the black lake straight after dinner, saying he need to tell you something.

being his best friend, you didn't expect anything out of the ordinary, in your mind, you knew what he was going to say

you believe that he was going to tell you he's leaving the school, to start the shop.

you thought this because last night, while looking for George, you stumbled upon his talking to Fred about it

"we finally have the money for it, I say we leave before our O.W.Ls and start it up so we'll be done by the time the new school year starts" Fred suggested

"Fred, that's the best plan I've ever heard" George replied

you weren't upset at him for leaving, it was to start his dream and you would support him no matter what, would you miss him? hell yeah, but you'd rather him be happy.

George stared at you while you gazed up at the stars that littered the dark sky.

you were perfect in his eyes, nothing could compare to you, so when you asked him if he found the moon beautiful, he was had to point out there were better things.

"yeah- I mean, it's gorgeous, but, I find a lot of other things more beautiful than just a shiny star" he replied, making you look down and at him with a small smile

"first, it's not just a shiny star" you mimicked his voice, repeating his words "and what things are you talking about, fireworks?" you guessed

"well, FIreworks are pretty, I wouldn't say that that's what I was talking about but sure" George shrugged

"well then what?" you tilted your head

you George thought to himself

it was an understatement to say he was infatuated with you. he would kiss the ground you walk on if he wasn't worried about catching a sickness, not knowing what has crawled on the floor.

he would do anything if you asked him, anything- if it didn't result in him never seeing you again. George thought it was a blessing to see you with his own eyes.

"stuff" George responded shortly

"what stuff" you rolled your eyes

"doesn't matter" he chuckled

"merlin, you're annoying" he heard you mumble jokingly

he nudged you and looked up at the moon

it fell silent as you both watched the sky.

you gasped as you pointed up

"George, look! A shooting star, make a wish, Quick!" you giggled as you closed your eyes, you lips moving slightly

George watched the shooting star and closed his eyes

please don't reject me, Y/n George wished

he opened his eyes and looked down at you, your eyes still closed, looking calm and relaxed

the moonlight making you look like something out of a dream

George couldn't help but be mesmerized by you as he reached for you hand

"Y/n?" he whispered as you let him take your hand

you hummed as your eyes fluttered open

you looked up at him and smiled softly

"yes, Georgie?"

George felt himself become hot at the nickname, it wasn't like he's never been called that before, but something about the way you said it seemed so...intimate, as if you were waiting for him to say what he wanted so desperately to admit to you

"if i tell you, promise it won't ruin our friendship" he sighed nervously

"George, I know you're planning on leaving early, and it won't, I'll send you letters and I'll be sure to pop by every now and then, don't worry" you assured him

George's face fell for a moment as he blinked

"that's not- how do you know that I'm leaving?" he questioned, utterly confused

"I heard you and Fred talking the other night, I'm really happy for you, George, both of you" you beamed

of course you fancied him, how could you not? he was perfect in every way, he was everything you were looking for in a guy and more

"thanks, that's not what I brought you here for though" George took a deep breath

"then what?" you tilted your head

"Y/n, I love you, I just wanted you to know before Fred and I go. but I love you" he confessed

you sat next to him in surprise, you looked down at his hand on yours and felt your cheeks warm up

you looked back up after a moment and flipped your hand underneath his over, interlocking fingers as you gazed into his warm brown eyes that you could drown in

"I love you too, George"

George let go of a deep breath he didn't know he was holding and grinned from ear to ear.

"after you finish school, maybe we could go out, on a date?" he asked

you leaned in and pecked his cheek

"I'd like that" you nodded

George reached his hand up and cupped your cheek, feeling the way you leaned into his palm

he squeezed your hand that he held on his lap and leaned in, placing his lips on yours softly.

you leaned into him as he kissed you under the moonlight, showing you just how much he loves you.

-------------------------------------------

[gigicreates562]

Trapped- Fred Weasley x Reader

Trapped - Fred Weasley x Reader

Fred and Y/n find themselves in an unfortunate situation for the night.

TW: None

1600 words

---------------------

"Shit!" She exclaimed as she banged on the iron door.

"I don't think it's budging love, you've been at it for an hour."

Of course. Of COURSE, this had to happen with Fred. Just her luck.

Fred and Y/n had gone out in search of some billywig slugs for the twin's newest product. Unfortunately for Y/n and Fred, the local cave in which the slugs dwell only allows access during the day. But that wasn't the problem.

Y/n and Fred had entered the cave with no problems, but in a very Y/n and Fred fashion, they had gotten a bit sidetracked while collecting them. Which leads us here, to Fred and Y/n now stuck inside the cave until morning.

"Looks like we will have to make camp for the night," Fred sighed.

Honestly, he wasn't too upset about this. Sure the situation was unfortunate, but it meant he got to spend the whole night with the woman he was secretly pining for.

"Great," Y/n replied.

However, she was not so excited. She too had been secretly harboring feelings for Fred, but this is NOT how she pictured her first night with him. She had it all planned out in her head- she would take him out to lunch, admit her undying love for him, and he would whisk her away to a night of endless romance. She had NOT pictured a cave in her daydream, and definitely not the slugs either.

"Let's see what we are working with," Fred said as he sat down their backpack he had been carrying.

"Picnic blanket, Picnic leftovers, flashlight, flannel, and a first aid kit." Fred sighed. He began laying out the picnic blanket as Y/n waved her wand to assemble some sticks into a fire for warmth.

Fred began quietly laughing to himself. Amused at the thought he just had.

"What's so funny?" She asked him.

"It's just... remember at lunch today- you were talking about how romance movies are sooooo unrealistic and the situations that they get put in would never really happen?" He asked, still chuckling a bit.

"Yes?"

"Well, I think we've just come into the whole 'there's only one bed troupe in a way." He said pointing at the singular blanket.

"Merlin, I guess we have," She said laughing. "I'd better write those authors an apology haven't I?"

"Looks like it. May as well get comfy love, this cave is only going to get colder." He said as he fashioned the flannel into a makeshift pillow and laid down.

She looked at him for a moment, admiring his frame all laid out like that. He patted the blanket next to him and she was snapped out of her daydream. Reluctantly, she sat down.

"I figured we'd rather lay on the blanket than the dirt. We will just have to keep each other warm I reckon. Best be careful we don't suddenly realize that we're madly in love" he teased and poked at her side.

She laughed and then quieted. She couldn't help but feel a little sad that the idea of falling in love with her was funny. But Fred knew her too well and sensed the awkwardness immediately.

"Hey, I'm only joking," Fred said leaning up on his elbows. "Besides both of us smell like slugs right now. Not exactly the romance novel ideal."

She smiled at him, glad that the tension was diffused. He beamed back at her. The pair sat like that for a moment in comfortable silence.

Breaking the silence, Fred reached up to push a stray hair behind her ear, and he couldn't help but notice her breath hitch a bit. Maybe this was a romance novel, in their own quirky Fred and Y/n way.

Suddenly anxious at that thought, he cleared his throat.

"Right then. Let's get comfy."

He laid back down on his back, adjusting the flannel under his head. Y/n stared at him for a moment watching him get comfortable until he reached his arm out for her. Taking that as her signal to lay down, she curled up against his side, resting her head in the nook of his shoulder. Fred pulled his arm around her waist and began to rub shapes into her side with his thumb.

This is the closest they've ever been she thought. Sure she'd leaned on him before, maybe even laid her head in his lap, but this? This was intimate. Not only was he holding her so tightly, but they had to stay like this the entire night? This was going to be harder than she thought.

"Are you sleepy?" Fred asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"A little. Definitely not enough to sleep yet though," She replied, playing with the collar of his shirt.

Fred couldn't help the pink that rose on his cheeks. He didn't think she was even doing it on purpose. It's not inherently romantic, cuddling, but he was just so hopelessly in love with her that he couldn't help but feel a little flustered at their proximity.

"Do you want to ask each other questions?" She asked him. "To pass the time?"

"Yeah, sure. It's not like I've got somewhere to be." Fred smiled at her, squeezing her tighter.

He was so warm, that's what she kept thinking. And although they were a bit dirty from collecting slugs, he still smelled like Fred: Salted caramel and fireworks. She tried not to be too obvious about inhaling his scent.

"Okay, I'll ask first," She began, "What's your favorite memory from Hogwarts?"

Fred pondered for a moment.

"I'd have to say when Cormac tried to make a pass at you, and George and I slipped a gravity reversal potion into his pumpkin juice. Remember? He was stuck on the ceiling of the great hall for hours! They had to float his lunch up to him."

"Godrick he was so mad," She giggled. "Okay, you ask me one."

"Alright," He thought for a moment. "When was the hardest you've ever laughed?"

"Oh, easy! When we were supposed to be hiding from Filch in the closet, but you kept changing his hair into different updos to make me laugh."

"I forgot about that one! Merlin I was scrubbing the bathroom for weeks for that," He laughed.

"Then why did you keep doing it?" She was laughing again.

"I was trying to impress you, you twat!" He tickled her side and she laughed harder.

"Didn't know you were ticklish!" He said as he held her in place with one arm and tickled her stomach with the other.

"Fred! Stop," She was in tears from laughing so hard. She tried to break free, but the second she did Fred pulled her back by the waist.

"I wish I would've known you were so ticklish back when you were hiding my puking pastilles from me in our fourth year!"

"Fred!" She was still laughing.

She made one final heroic attempt to break free, and she did! ...for a brief moment. But as quickly as she had broken free, Fred reacted. He pulled her back quickly, pinning her arms down next to her head and straddling her lap. Their giggling stopped abruptly.

They stared at each other for a moment. Both too distracted with their own thoughts to notice the other staring.

She admired the way the fire made his hair shine. He really was handsome. She'd always thought so, but now especially.

He stared down at her too. Admiring her soft features, he felt his eyes wander down to her lips. Had they always been that plump? He couldn't help himself. She just looked so pretty in the gentle glow of the flames. He didn't think. He just leaned down and kissed her.

Slowly and sweetly, he moved his lips gently against hers, savoring the taste of her strawberry chapstick.

But then reality came rushing back to him. Holy shit- he just kissed his best friend. He pulled his lips away quickly. Still hovering over her, he searched her eyes for a reaction,but to his dismay, he found none.

She was just staring at him, totally awestruck.

...

"One of us should probably say something," She whispered after a long while.

"Do you want me to stop?" Fred asked quietly as if the slightest thing could break her. He stared at her anxiously awaiting her answer.

She was utterly captivated by him. He watched carefully as the corner of her mouth tilted up into a smile. She shook her head no at him.

No of course she didn't want him to stop. She wanted him to kiss her until her lips were blue. She began to pull him back down with her hand.

Fred started to lean back into her too, before he stopped abruptly, dropping his head down to her shoulder.

"Wait, I'm sorry," He muttered getting off of her.

She sat up quickly, "What's wrong?" she asked cupping his face to look at him.

"Y/n," Fred said, putting his hand around the one she had placed on his face.

"I don't want this to just be a one-time thing. It was hard enough pretending that I don't have feelings for you. I don't think I could take it if we were just friends with benefits."

She laughed at him. He stared at her in confusion, not getting the joke.

"Fred," She began, still amused with the whole situation, "I am so helplessly in love with you it's beyond comprehension." She laughed.

His eyes shot up to hers.

"Say that again," He told her.

"I am so helplessly in love wi-" He crashed his lips onto hers. This time the kiss was much more frantic than the last. It was as if he was trying to express to her every feeling he had ever felt toward her in a couple of seconds. His hand laced into her hair as he lowered them back to the ground.

Only when he couldn't possibly hold his breath any longer he pulled back to say,

"I love you too".

[noblesixjm04]

I can't get this out of my head. It's just something that ive had rattling around. If this doesn't make much sense I'm sorry lol but.

Do you ever think about if the Spartan ii's ever met one of those siblings without realizing it?

Like. John meeting a young female marine. She's quick witted and wicked smart. There is almost nothing she will back down from. At least not until she gets a "win." She will never leave one of her teammates behind. She's also known among her friends for her dry sense of humor.

One day she runs into John whiles he's out of armor. She never realizes that he's the Master Chief as they stare at one another. Blue eyes look into blue. The roots of her hair are blonde. Contrasted against a dark brown. They share the same smattering of freckles. Dusted along their face and down to their arms. Petering out along the backs of their hands.

And when she smiles there's a gap in her front teeth. (One tooth is chipped from a hard won game of King of the Hill.) She jokes that they match.

Apparently her brother had to. Her parents told her about him. How he had passed a few years before she was born. Her mother told her about her and her brothers shared a constellation of freckles.

Maybe Kelly runs into a pair of twin engineers. One is a girl. The other a boy. The girl has her hair cropped short. It's faded green. The boy has long hair. Held back in a tight braid. It's blue.

They strike up a conversation with Kelly one day. Mostly out of boredom. At one point talking about how they had been on their schools track team. Twin Terrors they had been called. They were the fastest in the entirety of their schools career.

They are the only two out of the group of engineers and scientists that could match her humor.

Kelly never sees them again after that. But she thinks about them often enough. About how they all shared the same accented voice.

About the day they all raced.

She won. Of course. But something about it made her feel like she was missing something. She matched it to the same feeling to her younger years with the rest of the ii's on Reach. On some of the few days they had true fun.

Linda was sent to therapy. Well. Not really sent. It was... Suggested. That she go.

Linda did. This time. For the first time. The last time.

She met an older man. Her elder by about three or four years. With the same red hair, that has streaks of white at the temples, and piercing green eyes.

Those eyes that looked at her like she does down the snipers scope. Those eyes that seemed to know her own.

She could see them widen. Hear the hitch on his breath as they flicker to a photograph and then back to her.

He...

Maybe she had seen him in passing once. Despite him never having been on this ship before.

He has been the one to pull the trigger.

"I don't think I'm the right match for you." His voice rumbled in a familiar way.

When she left. Linda tried to stop thinking about the worn, frames photo on his desk. The one with a boy. About eight or nine. With a shock of bright red hair. He held an archery trophy in one hand. In his other. The hand of a little girl. Close to five. With that same shock of red hair and green eyes that seemed to see you even through the cameras lense.

Fred meets a medic after a nasty injury. The Odst's and Marines in his company joke that he has as getting the best medic around.

He was a young man. Kind and deeply empathetic.

Those same Marines also joked about how the two of them could be siblings in a different life. With how they shared the same sloped nose and sharp jaw. The same, soft manner of speaking.

"Seriously Lieutenant. Just give the Doc the same hair cut. Could fool me that's for sure."

The medic said that he did have a brother. One that he has never met. That he had passed away a few months before he had been born .

But he and his parents visited his grave every year on his brother's birthday. And that this was the first year that he wouldn't be able to.

"He's be turning thirty three today." The medic had just finished Fred's stitches.

"Oh." Fred spoke it before it could be stopped.

"Oh what?" The medic had asked.

"I turned thirty three today." It was one of the few things he remembered. Something he rarely thought about. Because something around it had made his heart hurt.

"Here then. Happy birthday." The medic handed Fred a chocolate granola bar.

[spiderfunkz]

city of stars , blurbs — fred weasley + [ back ] sender pats receiver on the back. maybe with shy!reader and him comforting r when they’re anxious about something <3

[ back ] sender pats receiver on the back + fred weasley

ugh mal sorry this took so long!!! idk what happened but i completely forgot about my requests😭 here it is though sorry it's a bit messy (also a bit angsty ooooops).

also also i don't know much about being shy because i'm always a bit loud since i was a kid, so this is just based off of my friends' experience and just general observation.

you stare at the hot glowing embers from the fireplace, admiring it almost. you didn't notice that you're zoning out, everything just felt so slow.

you can hear the sounds of the fire, the noise of the wood crackling, you can smell the pumpkin scented candles burning from across the room, but yet you don't feel anything at all.

you notice the small blue flames, comparing it to the tall orange flames, you notice the small details of the fire place. was that painting always there? is that stack of books new? what time is it? is tomorrow monday or wednesday?

"hey, you okay there, love?" fred asks, snapping you back to reality.

you jump slightly, nodding. "mhm."

"are you sure? you seem like you have a lot in your mind." he added, "you can tell me, whatever it is. i would listen to your pretty voice anyday." he stated, smirking.

you smiled at his effort at flirting, he's good at it though, you admit. but that smile quickly faded away as you remembered what you had to face tomorrow.

you hesitated, "well, there is something that i am dreading tomorrow." but you gave in, it was fred after all. "theres this herbology thing. i have to presentate something that i've been working on for the past weeks," he listened to every word you were saying.

"i think it's pretty okay, but i'm not sure about presentating it, you know? what if i drop the pot by accident, or mess up my words? i don't want to mess up my words again, fred." you sigh.

"i don't think you will." he shook his head — "but i might. i tried practicing it but it just felt so awkward. my voice is always too quiet, my body language is off, and i always start getting nervous when i'm half-way speaking." you ramble.

"i just don't wanna mess up my speaking again, fred. i really want a good score for my speaking. professor sprout told me to speak up more during lessons but i just-" you hands cover your face, giving up on whatever you were about to say.

fred's hand reaches your back, patting it. "you're not gonna mess up, darling. i can guarantee you, you're gonna do amazing." he gives you a reassuring smile. "and if you're not sure about it, i'll help you, think of me as the audience, i'm cheering in the back going 'wooo!! go y/n!'" he laughs.

you smile, "thanks, freddie."

"and if you don't spot me, that means i'm one of sprout's plants dancing in the background." he added. "good to know." you laugh.

[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 27

WARNINGS: passionate kissing

You struggle to keep up as Fred and George tug you through the halls of Hogwarts castle.

"Slow down!" you pant.

"We can't! We're losing daylight," the twins say together, still pulling you along.

"It's only 1:30," you huff under your breath.

Eventually, the three of you reach the Quidditch stadium field. At once, Fred and George call out, "Accio Cleansweep!" Seconds later, two broomsticks seem to come out of nowhere and into the twins' open hands.

Fred turns to George and asks, "D'you think Ginny would mind if we borrowed her broomstick?"

"Not if we said it was for y/n to use," George responds.

You shake your head. "No, don't bother. I can't fly on my own."

"Really?" George says. "But you must've taken Madam Hooch's flying class during your first year."

"I did, but I barely passed," you chuckle, embarrassed to admit it. "I don't trust myself to be so high up. I get all shaky."

"Wow! Finally, something that y/n isn't good at!" Fred exclaims.

You roll your eyes and shove his arm playfully.

"So you've got a fear of heights?" George asks disappointedly.

"No, no," you quickly clarify, shaking your head. "That's not it. If anything, I love the view more than anyone. I even enjoy a good climbing tree here and there. I just... Let's just say I can depend on my smarts more than I can my athletic skills," you laugh. Fred and George smile at this, causing you to become bashful, but you quickly shake it off. "I'm alright if I'm flying with someone who knows what they're doing."

"Well, you're in luck, y/n!" says Fred. "Because we know exactly what we're doing." Both twins mount their brooms. You watch in awe as Fred takes off, using his long legs to push himself from the ground and into the air. He hovers about ten feet away, waiting for you and George to join him.

"Come on then!" George encourages. He scoots forward on his broom and excitedly pats the open space behind him in invitation.

You take in a deep breath. "Okay."

You nervously move to sit behind George, your heart beat quickening as you wrap your arms around his waist. You can't help but acknowledge how strong his torso feels.

"Try not to enjoy this too much," George says jokingly, though you're half-certain he must've read your mind.

"I was about to tell you the same thing," you gingerly laugh. You're glad that George can't see your furious blushing, but Fred can. He grins knowingly down at you, and you hide behind George in humiliation.

George chuckles. "Ready?"

"I haven't done this in years, so please start slow," you plead, tightening your hold on him.

"Sure thing," he replies. He steadies his feet flat on the ground and you shut your eyes tight. You anticipate the jerk of the lift off, but for a moment too long you don't feel anything.

"Open your eyes, y/n," you hear one of the twins say.

You open your eyes to see Fred floating alongside you. He smiles cheerily. You look down at the green field far below and gasp, clinging to George in fear. The twins laugh.

"Careful now. Hug me any tighter and I won't be able to breath," George wheezes exaggeratedly.

"Sorry," you apologize, loosening your hold around his waist.

Fred snorts. "He's not."

You laugh and George shamelessly shrugs.

You watch anxiously as Fred soars away. He spins around to fly upside down and performs loop-de-loops for your entertainment. You start to let go of George to applaud, but quickly catch yourself and grab George's waist once more.

"That was brilliant, Fred!" you yell.

George looks over his shoulder to grin at you. "Would you like to try that?" he asks.

"No!" you instantly shout. You clear your throat. "No, thank you," you finish sheepishly.

"Alrighty then," George chortles. "We'll just cruise for a bit."

You hold on tight as George gradually takes you higher in a wide spiral. He stops once you're level with Hogwarts' astronomy tower. The view of the castle, the rippling lake, and the surrounding mountains from so high up takes your breath away.

"Wow... how beautiful," you sigh in amazement.

"Not as beautiful as you," both twins say in unison as Fred flies up to float at your side once more.

"Aw, thank you, guys," you giggle, grinning at Fred. You rest your head on George's back and give him an affectionate squeeze. You feel his muscles relax as he sighs happily.

In that moment, you are so utterly content. You close your eyes peacefully and feel the cold wind on your face. You can hear the faint sound of birds chirping in the trees down below. You inhale the smell of honey and redwood coming off of George's sweater. And with the twins so near, there's nothing else that could make you happier.

The word "love" forms in your mind, and you can almost feel it forming on your tongue, but you force yourself to remain silent. You still wonder if it's too soon to confess, even if your feelings are obvious.

Without speaking another word, Fred flies forward towards the lake. You and George follow at a slower speed. You lean to the side to see past George and watch as Fred dips down, barely missing the edge of the trees before reaching the lakeshore. George does the same, though he descends gently.

You fly over the lake, so close to the water's surface. George reaches out with one hand and strokes the small waves, splashing droplets in your direction. You squeal in surprise.

"Hey!" you laugh, and George laughs with you.

You and George follow behind Fred as he soars higher into the sky, up, around, and over Hogwarts castle. You realize that you've never felt so free. You start to holler with gladness and the twins join in. The three of you whoop, cheer, and laugh. But soon you feel your fingers freezing up in the rushing, winter air, and you sadly request that George bring you to the ground.

You and George land back in the quidditch field with Fred not far behind. After managing to get off the broom without tipping over, you move to George on wobbly legs.

In your extreme happiness, you throw yourself onto him, pulling George into a passionate kiss. He's caught by surprise at first, but soon drops his broom and returns the gesture with even more passion. He crushes your body to his, his lips moving against yours with an overwhelming ferocity. You almost believe you're going to faint until you spot Fred dismounting his broom. You finish your kiss with George forcefully, leaving him gasping for air, before running to Fred.

Fred has already tossed his broom to the side and welcomes you with a joyful grin and open arms. You leap, and he catches you in a bear hug. You crash your lips to his and he responds accordingly, moving perfectly in sync. You cup his face with both of your ice-cold hands, but he doesn't care. He holds you like he'll never get to hold you again, clutching your waist so tight that you eventually can't breathe. You reluctantly break the heavy kiss, and, after a moment of both of you panting in recovery, Fred sets you down.

George has come to join the two of you, and you give both of the twins one more quick hug and kiss.

"George," you say after pulling away. "Fred..." You can't hold back the strong emotions inside of you. "I think... I think I love—"

"Weasley! Y/l/n!" a sickeningly familiar voice rings throughout the stadium, and the three of you freeze in place. You slowly turn around, dread welling up in your stomach, to find that the voice belongs to none other than Professor Umbridge.