#angelina x ginny

[toorumlk]

molly’s girls!

[fairyofspringdays]

The Weasley Family Spouses - Which Weasley is the hottest?

(bill x fleur, percy x oliver, fred x angelina, george x lee, ron x hermione, ginny x harry)

the six weasley spouses were asked to rate all the weasley siblings from most attractive to least. here are the responses:

Fleur

#1 bill - hubby!!! so respectful and sweet and loving, but also so fiery! that hair really gets her going... she had thought his scars were hot even before greyback happened, and he is no less attractive now!

#2 percy - a gentleman, treats her with respect. learnt french to properly communicate with her! he said he'd always wanted to learn another language and when he heard bill was marrying a french girl, it was the perfect opportunity to learn. what a shame that he's gay.

#3 charlie - also respectful. asks interesting questions and always willing to talk. not bad-looking.

#4 fred and george - also respectful. too caught up in themselves to really give her time.

#5 ron and ginny - no.

Oliver

#1 percy - he is the BEST. he is intelligent i mean sure he is academically smart but he's also just intrinsically smart and really thoughtful and caring and sweet and— (cut off before he could go into a full blown rant)

#2 charlie - attractive, great at quidditch. he had a crush on charlie when he was young.

#3 bill and ginny - also attractive and great at quidditch. they overwhelm him a bit.

#4 ron - he doesn't know the kid very well but he must be cool since harry likes him, right?

#5 fred and george - ANNOYING. (he is biased because the twins don't treat percy well)

Angelina

#1 fred - well, obviously. but tell him she put george on top just to fuck with him.

#2 ginny - she's not gay, but...

#3 george - physically attractive, too similar but also too different from fred for her to give him a proper number. either way, he is gay, so.

#4 bill - very cool, nice long hair. she wants to convince fred to grow out his hair too.

#5 ron, percy, and charlie - all physically attractive in their own ways. she doesn't know them well enough to comment further.

Lee

#1 george - very very cute. nice fluffy red hair and pretty hazel eyes. just... very cute.

#2 bill - cool as hell.

#3 charlie and ginny - also cool as hell, just a bit less.

#4 ron - pretty cool actually, but he's always preferred his men more muscly than tall.

#5 percy - he needs to loosen up a bit. he might know just the thing to get percy to do that, but he's not single, so...

#6 fred - a gremlin.

Hermione

(the only contestant who protested at first, but was eventually persuaded)

#1 ron - very thoughtful and caring, he's brave and loyal and so wonderfully smart and cute! and he can cook!!!

#2 everyone else - more like siblings to her than anything. she does appreciate percy's smarts and the twins' charms, but they're just not ron.

Harry

#1 ginny - she's cool, she's hot, she's wonderfully fiery and he could spend all day mooning after her.

#2 ron - ron's his best mate so he has a moral obligation to put him high on the least. (but he IS very sweet and caring and, well, if hermione broke up with him...)

#3 bill - he's not gay, but...

#4 fred and george - very fun to be around.

#5 charlie - physically very attractive. did not comment further.

#6 percy - he's a nerd but also there's something endearing about him.

[letscf]

OFFICIAL PILOT | พิษรัก | Poisonous Love

[taurusmoonchild]

I know I am a day late but I still wanted to post these Valentines day posts from my fav canon golden trio era ships 🩷

Ron × Hermione

Harry x Ginny

George × Angelina

Neville x Hannah

[briarpotter]

Next Gen Kids!

[hpandcarbs]

The Master List of Basically-Canon Harry Potter Fanfiction by Hpandcarbs:

First War / Marauders Era: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1780084

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1780084

Post-DH (Hinny focus): https://archiveofourown.org/works/26500321

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26500321

Second Generation (JSP falling in love): https://archiveofourown.org/works/21848851

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21848851

What If Peter Sacrificed Himself and James and Lily Survived: https://archiveofourown.org/series/111713

https://archiveofourown.org/series/111713

What if Sirius “Kidnapped” Harry when he was 8: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2235708

https://archiveofourown.org/series/2235708

Second Generation Honorable Mention Because I love the Potter Kids in this: https://archiveofourown.org/series/538465

https://archiveofourown.org/series/538465

Post-DH Honorable Mention of George and Angelina: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33291523

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33291523

[rejectedmay]

Rough sketches of some couples

Bonus:

[chocofrog731]

recently got back into hp reading OotP currently n this is my first post be kind to me or face ur doom

[ravenclaws-stuff]

I'm bored so let's play another game.

FMK but just Gryffindor Edition

[maldeldest]

My old Harry Potter fanfictions

Sooo... as many other Potterheads before I wrote fanfictions. I am now 20 years old and I wrote them when I was ten. Well, writing isnt exactly the right Word to use. I actually only wrote down 2 of them. The rest were just plans I had in my head. I knew exactly How it was gonna go and what the final Showdown will be.

Ofc, my 10 year old self wasnt very good with 2 Things.

1. Almost everyone is OOC. The worst got my favorite character of them all, Severus Snape. He did stuff and said stuff I was, at my rereading like: Yeah, no, Severus would never say that. (Funny enough the only two FF I actually wrote down Was a Snily fanfiction and I basically made him a Damsel in Distress). Thats also another trait of mine. I Show my love with torture. Mostly everyone just gets kidnapped...seriously there isnt one that doesnt involve someone getting kidnapped.

2. I let some of the good characters do some Pretty bad stuff. While I never liked Canon James or Sirius, both of them were straight up villians in the only two Maurauder fanfics I wrote down. Well, "Maurauder". One Was the Snily fanfiction and one Was James PotterxOC for whatever reason. Yeah... but we talk about my OCs some other time. They were all Pretty cringe and Mary Sues.

But ofc as a very Romantic Girl, I had a story for my back then favorite ships. (Funny enough is I dont even ship some of these anymore but well).

HarryxLuna

NevillexLuna

HarryxGinny

GeorgexAngelina

NevillexHannah

GeorgexLuna

RolfxLuna

HarryxHermione

HermionexFred

PercyxAudrey

BillxFleur

RemusxTonks

SnapexLily

JamesxOC

Now this is embarrising, but Bill and Fleur as well as Remadora are the only ones that didnt have any Story. I ship them and wanted to do a story for them but I never had the thoughts left for them since I was so invested in the other Storys. Especially Percy and Audrey. I used to be obsessed with my Headcanons of Audrey Weasley, Pretty easy since we dont even know her maiden Name. But Yeah thats why they have to pass. Im gonna Post Haruna first in my next Post.

Lets suffer together, wont we :)

[distantdarlings]

LIKE HE BELONGED THERE // m. riddle

RATING: R / 6K WORDS

Mattheo Riddle x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this and this* After being friends for a while, Mattheo decides to kick your relationship up a notch at the upcoming Halloween party.

+ WARNINGS - Fem!Reader, unprotected PIV, oral sex (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, soft dom!Mattheo, sub!reader, overstimulation, fingering (f!receiving), slight cum play, creampie, mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, language, not fully proof-read (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

headache - asal

- - -

Your heels scraped the stone stairs as you bounded down them, excited to start the day.

Generally, you weren’t too happy about having to get up every morning and attend your classes, but today was a Friday. And not only was today a Friday, it was the last Friday before Halloween. And you were well acquainted with what that meant—the annual Hogwarts Halloween party was tonight.

It was easily one of your favorite nights of the school year. Between the costumes, the snuck-in Firewhisky, the snacks, and the dancing, you weren’t sure what the best part of it was. Either way, you always made sure you went all out.

You walked through the doors of the Great Hall, searching for your group of friends. They generally sat directly across from one of the large hearths placed throughout the room.

Above, Halloween decorations floated and dangled—creepy spiderwebs and jack-o-lanterns littered the magical skyline that cracked with faux lightning. Damn, you loved this school.

Excitement floated in your stomach.

You jogged over to your friends where they sat gathered closely around each other, munching on bits of breakfast and likely discussing their costumes for tonight.

All of their eyes came up to meet yours as you selected a seat next to Angelina Johnson and grabbed a muffin from the ornate bowl in the center of the table.

“Are you ready for tonight?” she asked, smiling widely.

“Am I? I’ve been fucking pumped all year!” you laughed. “I’m assuming you’ve all prepared your costumes for tonight?”

“If you can even call them costumes,” Ginny Weasley chuckled quietly.

“Oh, shut up!” Lavender Brown scoffed, shoving her shoulder. “Just because you’re as modest as a damn nun, doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be.”

“I don’t think your costume is simply immodest, Lavender,” Angelina joked, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. You turned to look at the girl.

“Wait—what’s it look like? I haven’t seen it yet,” you cocked your head. Lavender tended to have a bit of a penchant for flashy Halloween costumes, but you couldn’t remember a time in years past when the other girls were this interested in what it was.

Lavender produced a cutout picture.

“It’s just a rabbit costume…,” she shrugged, scoffing as if it was inconceivable that she’d be made fun of for her outfit. An outfit that was…definitely immodest.

The photo seemed to come from a wizarding catalog for lingerie, where the model depicted had simple bunny makeup and a pair of fuzzy ears strapped to a headband atop her curly hair. She wore what looked like a fuzzy bra and panty set with a fluffy cotton tail. The woman danced seductively in the moving picture.

“Lav, I think this is lingerie,” you said.

Angelina and Ginny burst out laughing as Lavender cried out. She snatched the photo back away from you, folded it, and shoved it in her robe pocket. Pouting, she placed her hand on her fist and looked away.

“I’m sorry, but I think you may have outdone yourself this year,” you laughed, tears welling in your eyes.

“Oh, fuck off!” she growled. “What are you all going to wear?”

“I’m just wearing my Quidditch jersey,” Ginny shrugged.

“Ugh, boring! You did that last year.” Angelina rolled her eyes. Ginny didn’t seem to care. “Anyways, I’m going as a pirate. I’ve got like an eyepatch and stuff—ooh! I’ve also got a sword.”

Everyone nodded, agreeing that she may have the best costume this year—as she did every year.

“What about you?” Ginny nodded toward you, absentmindedly picking at the food left on her plate.

“I’m being a cat this year. I went the sort of ‘slutty’ route like Lavender.”

The girl mentioned groaned and set her head down on the table. You should stop teasing her but it was just too easy. Besides, she knew you loved her.

While the conversation and picking across nibbles of breakfast continued, you eventually heard a few sharp steps behind you on the rough stone floor.

Just as you were about to turn to catch a glimpse of who it may be, a warm hand tugged on your right earlobe. You gasped and turned to see who belonged to the fingers curled against your skin.

Mattheo turned and sat just beside you, back against the table and arm resting comfortably on the table in front of you. You faked an annoyed groan and rolled your eyes.

“Ugh, look who it is!” you sighed sarcastically.

Ginny and Angelina seemed to sneer and look away before continuing their conversation privately, while Lavender seemed to swoon just a bit over the dark boy next to you.

“I was wondering when I was going to run into you,” he spoke, smirking as he caught the reactions of your friends to him in the corner of your eye.

“Oh, yeah? You think about me that much?” you teased, turning your body more toward him.

“You could say that,” he snorted. “I was wondering what your plans were for this evening?”

“Well, I planned to head down to Hogsmeade to catch a Butterbeer after classes and grab a few more things for my costume. Want to come?”

“Will your friends be coming?” he asked, nodding his jaw toward the girls behind you.

“Yes, we will! We all will! So, it’ll be kind of crowded. You might want to sit this one out,” Angelina interrupted, nodding enthusiastically. You rolled your eyes at her, shoving an elbow back against her ribs.

“Right, I think I will,” he laughed. “Your friends aren’t exactly my choice of company.”

Angelina stuck her tongue out at the boy who rolled his eyes in response.

“We’ll see you tonight, alright?” Ginny said. You nodded as she and Angelina stood and headed out the door. Lavender slid farther down the bench and set her chin in her hands.

“I don’t mind if you come, Mattheo,” she said sweetly, ogling him like a prize.

Mattheo stood and leaned over the table a bit, looking over her. “I appreciate it, baby. But, I think I’ll skip.” He brushed a gentle finger against her chin before heading out the door.

Lavender sat there gobsmacked, watching you like she couldn’t believe what had just happened. Mattheo was a natural flirt—you’d seen it a thousand times over. You weren’t shocked.

“I think he’s in love with me,” she gasped.

“Whatever,” you laughed, before getting up as well to head to your first period.

***

By the time your classes were over, you were practically bouncing out of your seat with energy. You couldn’t wait to stuff your face with all of the autumnal foods and dance until you felt sick.

You knew by the time the next morning hit, you’d be regretting your choices from the night before, just as you always did. But you never cared, because it was so damn fun.

Now, rushing to catch up with your friends who were already halfway down the cobbled path to Hogsmeade, you could feel the excitement bubbling up through your throat.

“Guys! You ready?” you shouted, waving above your head.

“Hell yeah!” Angelina stopped and hollered back.

Ginny whooped loudly and Lavender jumped into the air. You hadn’t seen them this pumped since last year when Gryffindor won the House Cup.

You caught up with them by slamming against Angelina with the force of the downhill stairs, giggling wildly.

The four of you made your way down the rest of the path, fingertips scraping along flaming lilies that grew along the stone, and skirts hovering gently in the soft breeze.

The feeling of autumn was finally beginning to set in around the campus—smokey air, white skies, crunchy leaves fluttering about. It was one of your favorite times of year—the castle always stood out like a painting. You glanced back at it, appreciating its beauty against the fading skyline.

“It’s getting darker sooner,” Lavender noted, stopping just before the door to the Three Broomsticks. Ginny pranced forward and grabbed ahold of the large metal handle, pulling the heavy oak open steadily. She held it as everyone headed in, shivering slightly at the change in temperature.

“Practice will likely be moved up soon, just because of the light,” Angelina said, more to Ginny than you or Lavender. You hadn’t picked up a broom since Flying class and Lavender wouldn’t be caught in the athletic changing rooms.

The two of them were both hell of a player, each with their own set of skills and unique style. Angelina was the captain and you imagined Ginny was next in her footsteps.

You took a table near the back and ordered two rounds of Butterbeer until the grandfather clock in the corner chimed five times.

At that point, you dropped a few coins on the table and followed the other girls out the door.

You stopped on the way back to the castle at a little convenience store stuck to the side of a little wand repair shop. The woman who worked the counter there—not much older than you were—always looked like she absolutely hated her life, so you attempted to crack a few jokes any time you entered the store. Every once and a while, she’d break a slight smile and today was one of those days. To you, that was proof that tonight was going to be an amazing party.

You grabbed a few bits of makeup and Lavender grabbed many bits of makeup and a few things for her hair, while Ginny and Angelina selected “snacks” to pregame the party with. If you were any dumber, you wouldn’t have known that the chips and gummies they selected were infused with a few special herbs designed to make the light a little less harsh. You rolled your eyes at them.

After you’d checked out and made it back to the castle, Ginny and Angelina had already dug into their special treats while you and Lavender had settled onto her bed and began dressing up.

You had managed a cute makeup look with a winged eyeliner, drawn-on whiskers and cat nose, and dark lipstick. All together, you hadn’t done too badly even with minimal help from Lavender.

Of course, when you’d glanced over at her, she’d almost completely finished her look—an extremely detailed, but sexy rendition of a bunny—by the time you’d only finished the eyeliner. She was a pro.

After that, she’d helped you pull your hair into a curled updo and fasten the little cat ears to the top of your head.

You’d pulled a long-sleeved black v-neck on and a skimpy black skirt you’d borrowed from a Slytherin friend. All things considered, you thought you looked pretty damn good.

“Wow, you look hot!” Angelina said. Her eyes had already started to lid over. Ginny smiled lazily, tossing her hand in the air and throwing a thumbs-up at you.

“Thanks!” you giggled. Though it was a simple outfit, you felt sexy. There was proof that pulling a shirt collar down over your breasts and wearing a short skirt with fishnets underneath could put you on top of the world. At least, for you.

Lavender walked around the corner and struck a pose. She looked…exactly like the model did.

“Lav, you look amazing, but you’ll be lucky if a professor doesn’t send you back to the dorm!” you laughed. Ginny and Angelina snorted at your words, guffawing obnoxiously.

“Well, then I guess we’ll see if I get lucky,” she said, smirking. “Or we’ll see if I get lucky another way.”

“Oh, brother,” Ginny groaned, rubbing her reddened eyes.

In the meantime, she had managed to slip her Quidditch jersey and a pair of jeans on. She looked really well for such a simple costume. Somehow, despite her wobbly legs, Angelina had managed to wrap a cushioned skirt around her waist—deep red in color and fastened with a thick brown belt that held a fake sword—and pull a billowy white shirt over her head. She slipped a leather corset around her torso, put an eyepatch on, and tied a striped bandana around her braided hair.

“Angie, your tits look amazing!” Ginny laughed. Murmurs of agreement passed around the room at the beautiful woman who bowed a few times.

“Well, are we heading down or not?” you smiled, throwing an arm around Lavender’s glittered shoulder. The other two girls nodded and followed you out of the dormitory.

The Halloween party was being held in the Slytherin common room this year. The location of the event tended to shift around the castle, but it had been held there a couple of years ago also. And, if you remember correctly, it had been your favorite venue so far.

You could remember the lights and the music and the reflection of the Black Lake outside the windows. That party was the one you’d really talked to Mattheo for the first time.

You’d chatted over pumpkin juice and bumped shoulders along the dance floor, connecting in ways you never thought a Slytherin and Gryffindor could. He’d made you smile and laugh so hard, the snacks settled in your hands had been abandoned so you could walk around the lake with him.

It was easily one of your favorite memories of the school. Oftentimes, it tended to float back into your head whilst you were sad or daydreaming about swimming in the lake.

As you slipped into the dungeon entrance, you were immediately taken aback by the aura of hundreds of treats, flashing lights, and loud music. Beside you, Lavender giggled giddily and shook your arm. Ginny and Angelina chatted back and forth, their voices slowly being more and more drowned out by the music.

To say that you’d been waiting for this party since last year’s was an understatement. Every year, the students who threw this together outdid themselves even further than they had the year before. And it had gotten so big that the professors had just stopped trying to shut it down and, instead, stationed a few of their own about the halls, just to ensure nothing particularly criminal was happening.

On your way to the party, you’d already glimpsed Hagrid’s towering body attempting to hide behind one of the gigantic stone torches lining the walls.

You’d thrown a wave at him and giggled as he pretended not to see you, as he was meant to be spying rather than clearly supervising.

Before you even had a chance to grab a drink from one of the tables set up, Mattheo Riddle swooped in beside you and threw an arm around you.

“My, mama, you are looking ravishing tonight,” he smirked, eyeing you up and down like a treat.

You giggled in response and placed a playful slap on his arm. “Whatever. What are you supposed to be?”

“I’m a vampire, can’t you tell?” he asked, holding his arms up to display his outfit.

All he wore was a black dress shirt, only partially buttoned, with matching slacks, and a bit of fake blood scattered across his lips. To be honest, you couldn’t really tell.

“I mean…it’s definitely a Halloween costume. I’m just not sure it screams ‘vampire,’” you responded. “It needs some fangs or a cape or something.”

“My natural ones not enough?” he teased, pressing a tongue against his sharp canines. You rolled your eyes, though a bit of an inappropriate thought rolled through your head at the small gesture. You shook it off, ashamed a thought like that would even pop up for someone like one of your best friends.

They’d happened before, but you weren’t one to listen to or act on intrusive thoughts.

You rolled your eyes and pulled away from him. “Well, what do you think of mine? I’m a cat!”

“I figured, baby,” he said. He glanced down your body once more, not even slightly attempting to conceal his gaze.

Without taking his eyes from you, he reached behind him and selected a cup waiting on the table. He leaned in to hand it to you, pressing his lips near your ear. He placed the drink in your fingers.

His voice was rough against the backdrop of the pounding music. “Wanna dance?”

“You think you can handle all this?” you giggled.

“What, you think I don’t know my way around a little pussy?” he asked, glaring down at you. Your eyes widened as your breath caught in your throat.

“Mattheo, you—” you gasped, nearly sending your cup toppling to the floor.

“I’m picking on you,” he laughed. He slid his hand around your waist and pulled you tightly against his body. The thin material of your skirt and tights was hardly enough to ward off the feeling of his hips against you. A shock of pleasure radiated through your body, eliciting chills down your arms.

Confidently, he gripped the red solo cup by the rim and quickly swallowed the contents in one go. The colored lights flickering overhead illuminated the swell of his throat as it pulsed with each swallow.

You weren’t sure why but that kept the fire in your stomach kindled.

Once done, he crumpled the cup in his hand and tossed it back toward the table. All the while, his hand never left your waist.

“Let’s dance, baby,” he whispered into your ear, liquid confidence already firing up in his mouth.

You repeated his actions, lifting your cup to your lips, swallowing as quickly as you could, and feeling the sudden buzz within your head. It was a small one, but definitely enough to push a little bit of urgency into your actions.

You grabbed onto his hand and tugged him deeper into the dance floor. As you moved past each swaying, grinding figure on the floor, you could feel your audacity building with each step.

With every press of your hand into his, you could feel sparks glowing from within your stomach. The feeling of his skin on yours—no matter how minute—had an effect on you. It always had.

You stopped once in the center and turned towards Mattheo. With a gentle smirk on your face, you pulled your hands above your head and began to sway slowly.

Your hips curved downwards and then back up. The lights flickered over your body, putting every seductive detail on display for the ravenous boy before you. You hoped that this would be enough to get the attention you’d been desperate for months.

The thoughts of lust that had entwined themselves around your brain had finally tightened themselves to their fullest. All you could think was Mattheo. All you could see was Mattheo. All you could hear, feel… Mattheo, Mattheo, Mattheo…

At the sight of your swaying body before him, Mattheo had no control over his desire. He’d held himself back for years, not wanting to scare you off. Wanting to get closer to you and treat you right. Wanting to do whatever he needed to do to get a taste of you.

His hand snaked back around your waist. He turned you into him, pressing your back against his chest. He moved his hips along you, grinding lazily against your ass.

Shock and pleasure coiled against the wall of your stomach, while the strong alcohol you’d down only moments ago began to dim the lights a bit.

If there was one thing Ravenclaw was good for, it was whipping up the strongest Firewhisky you’d ever tasted. One shot usually did you in.

His lips caressed over your ear, whispering sweet nothings. Over the music, it was hard to make out everything he said, but wisps of your hips, of your ass, of your legs echoed in your mind.

Chills flowed down the length of your exposed arms as he traced a finger down them. His hand interlocked with yours overtop the back, palm pressed against your knuckles.

He pulled your hand upwards and hooked it around the back of his neck. Instinctually, your fingers curled in the dark strands of hair down the back of his neck.

Your fingernails scraped against his scalp. He echoed your actions with a quiet groan, punctuating them with a chaste kiss against the connection of your jaw and neck. You sighed, clutching your fingers even tighter.

Your ass rolled against his front, urging a hardened point up from between his legs. You smirked at the effect you were having on him.

Suddenly, he spun you around, seemingly angry that you were affecting him so strongly. He pulled your chest into his and locked his hands onto your ass. The tips of his fingers hooked under the line of your fishnets right where your skimpy shorts ended. His strong hands pulled you as close to him as you would go, your hands tucked into between the two of you.

You gasped as your breasts pressed tightly against him, pushing your cleavage up to be even more exposed.

“Told ya I knew my way around some pussy,” he growled in your ear. You shuddered against him.

You forced forward some more confidence and leaned against his cheek. “I don’t know if I believe you. As far as I can tell, you haven’t handled anything. Your hands have stayed front and center.”

“Yeah? You want my hands, mama?” The tips of his fingers trailed down your sides, drawing every bit of pent-up energy to the forefront. As he reached your waist, his fingers found your wrists and eased them above your head.

For a split second, he caught both of your wrists wrapped into his singular hand. With his free hand, he obtained a firm grip on your ass and moved his hips against yours to the beat of the music. You giggled, embarrassed at the blunt boy.

He released your arms and they landed around his neck. He smiled cockily, flashing sharpened fangs. You wondered what they’d feel like crushing against your neck.

A laugh bubbled up your throat and you leaned back against Mattheo’s supportive arms to release it.

Your neck was exposed to the open air, enlightening sparks of glitter, and that was the last straw for Mattheo. At the sight of your body splayed out before him, arched against his abdomen, and relying fully on his strength, he couldn’t control himself any longer.

Ignoring all pre-conceived boundaries in your relationship with him, he leaned forward against you and pressed hot lips against your collarbone.

You gasped aloud at the sensation, not expecting to feel his mouth on you. Whispers of freshly-shaven stubble caressed your flesh. His breath plumed against your neck as he mouthed kisses against you.

He slowly worked his way upward until he reached the base of your neck, then abandoned his lips in favor of his tongue, which he traced delicately up the line of your throat.

Your head tilted forward to match the speed with which he licked against your skin.

Once he reached your chin, you were back to making full eye contact. You hoped that you weren’t completely flushed and wide-eyed, but you knew that couldn’t be true. Even through your makeup, you were sure that shock and embarrassment were shining bright.

His eyes were lidded, a small smirk curving his lips. He looked fucking breathtaking.

You refused to let him take you by such surprise, though and opted to return the sexually-charged favor.

Interlinking your fingers behind his neck, you pulled his lips to yours.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t as shocked as you’d been hoping and melded his lips against yours without skipping a beat. Like he’d been waiting for it—anticipating the moment you’d finally drop all of your pride and force your tongue into his mouth.

His hands wrapped around you, settling one on your hip, one splayed against your back. Now that he had your lips right where he wanted them, there was no way he’d let you pull away. He’d been waiting for this for months.

Your hands wrapped around the throat of his collar and, without pulling your mouth from his, began to walk backward. He followed willingly, hands refusing to pull from you. He knew what you wanted—he knew you'd wanted it just as long as he had.

Mutual desire hadn't been an issue between the two of you up until about five minutes ago, but that didn't mean neither of you felt it. You'd both felt the longing for the other extensively.

But now instead of desperately fucking your hands in your respective dormitories, you were—hopefully—going to fuck each other's hands in… You pulled away from Mattheo and glanced behind you, nodding your head suggestively toward the staircase leading up to his dormitory…say, ten minutes?

Mattheo snickered at your expression and allowed you to lead him up the stairs. Your hand was entangled in his like it had never belonged anywhere but there.

Once the two of you were past the landing and down the hallway, you clutched his hand tighter for a brief second, to which he responded by echoing the motion.

It was a silent question of which dorm was his. You'd been in his room once before, but only for studying, and it had been a while. You couldn't remember which identical door belonged to him.

He walked ahead, taking the lead, but never dropping your hand.

A few more steps later he was stopping in front of a door, sticking the brass key into the lock, and tugging you in. Once the door was closed, you were only allowed a few seconds to adjust to the darkness of the room, before Mattheo shoved you backward onto the bed nearest the door.

The pressure of your back hitting the mattress released a squeal from your lips, but that was quickly muted by Mattheo’s lips which found yours again. In the dark of the room, it was hard to tell where exactly he was, but you could clearly feel the bed beneath you sinking in as he crawled over you.

His knee came to rest between your legs, forcing them apart, and nudging against your core. You moaned lightly against his mouth but he swallowed the small sound with each breath he took.

His tongue traced the inside of your mouth lovingly, urging your jaw open further, forcing you to let him in.

Your fingers raised to his chest and began working the few buttons that were fastened apart, revealing his smooth, browned chest. Once the shirt was pulled apart, you pushed the fabric down his shoulders and whined at the feeling of his hot skin beneath your fingers.

He finally pulled his lips from yours and began working his way down your jawline and neck. You sighed in pleasure, fingers curling into his dark hair. Your nails lightly scratched against his scalp as they did so, eliciting a whispered groan from him.

The sound struck a flame in your core. You'd always wondered if he'd be vocal in bed.

Once he reached the divide of your cleavage, he wasted no time grasping the neckline of your busty shirt and pulling down.

Your breasts are pulled free, and exposed to the open air. You were suddenly so grateful to your past self for opting to skip the bra tonight.

He groaned at the sight of you and immediately latched his lips to your right nipple. You gasped aloud at the sensation, chest arching toward his face.

His hands, now free from anything else, got to work pushing your skirt up toward your hips. Beneath, you'd only wore a pair of black panties and the fishnets you'd bought, and it seemed that Mattheo was a very big fan.

Once he'd pulled away from your chest and noticed your legs, he immediately dropped down and began mouthing at your core through your bottoms. You jumped at the sudden stimulation, your fingers clutching at his hair.

“Fuck, Mattheo!” you cried. His mouth was ceaseless, devouring you through your panties, wetting the material completely through. The way your essence intertwined with his saliva had you gasping.

And before you could take another breath, he slipped his finger beneath your bottoms and pulled them to the side. His tongue resumed its previous ministrations, only this time his mouth was pressed right against your folds.

You groaned aloud, your thighs clenching together around his head.

With a deep breath, you snuck a peek down at his face. His eyes were completely closed—peacefully like he was right where he belonged. His jaw worked professionally, devouring you like you were a slice of fruit, and your juices painted his chin as such.

Without warning, he slipped a long finger into you, pressing directly against your sweet spot. At that point, you were done for. The final move pushed you over the edge.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t—!” You came ferociously, the waves of pleasure flowing through your body. Your hips snapped involuntarily against his mouth but he never stopped fucking you.

He worked you through the height of your orgasm, allowing you to come down from it gently and gradually.

When all of your muscles finally relaxed and a blissful smile began to spread across your face, you thought he was going to lie down beside you. But the recovery time didn’t last long as he flipped you on your stomach, the skirt still pushed up over your hips.

“Matty, baby,” you gasped, still out of breath from your last climax. “Wait.”

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he whispered frantically. Behind you, you could hear his belt clinking and the fabric of his pants rustling as he pulled them apart. “But I need to feel you around me.”

You gasped against the duvet—emerald and soft—realizing that you had only a few moments before Mattheo Riddle was going to be fucking you into his mattress. Your fingers gripped the sheets in anticipation.

His fingers grabbed hold of your hips, strong and sturdy, keeping you in place. You couldn’t have moved even if you wanted to.

He massaged your skin, watching lovingly as your body moved beneath his stimulation. He’d been imagining what you looked like under all of your uniform for months—imagining the way your ass would bounce when he fucked you into the bed, and the way your tits would flow like the ocean when you rode him. He’d imagined everything.

His hot, exposed core then pressed against the backs of your thighs. You whined aloud, face pressed into the soft comforter.

He felt like fire against your skin. Chills ran down your arms as you realized the sheer size of him, trailing across both of your legs. Fuck.

“Take a deep breath in for me, sweetheart,” he said, clutching your hip tighter with one hand whilst holding himself with the other.

He lined himself up with your entrance, tracing the tip down through your folds. You moaned aloud at the sensation, preparing yourself to take every inch of him within you.

As he pushed himself into you, with little to no resistance from the climax you’d already been given, you cried out. He bottomed out—his hipbones pressed squarely against your ass.

He let out a soft groan. “Fuck, baby, you opened right up for me.”

His fingers massaged your hips as he seemed to adjust to your warmth, lips parted in a silent moan. In his reluctance to move within you, you turned and peered over your shoulder at him, relishing in his pleasure-woven expression.

His eyes peeked open to stare down at you. When his eyes met yours, he moaned aloud and immediately pulled himself out of you only to force back in.

As he pressed directly into that spot deep within your core, you gasped and fell back against the sheets, unable to keep yourself pushed up.

“Fuck, baby, don’t look at me like that,” he said, pounding into you. “Gonna make me fall in love, sweetheart.”

You giggled against the bed, muffled slightly by the pace he was setting. His words were almost as tantalizing as the way his body moved. At this point, though, you didn’t care if he wanted to fall in love or not, you just wanted his body and the way it was learning yours.

“What do you want, baby? Huh? What do you need?” he gasped, his breaths coming out in hard pants as he refused to let up.

“Mm—I need…,” your words trailed off, forced into the duvet. Your hand pulled away from the sheets it gripped onto, to slide between your legs.

When Mattheo realized where your fingers’ intended goal was, he snatched your wrist and pinned it to your spine. His pace quickened, his hips snapping into you like an incredible force. With his free hand, he released your waist and slid it down between your legs.

His dampened chest pressed against your back as he allowed his fingers to reach their full extent. When his fingers touched your core, it only took a few spirals of movement for you to come hard around him.

You screamed at the sensation, this orgasm twice as hard as the previous one. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as he pushed you through your climax, each thrust extending the feeling pulsing through your body.

Still, he never stopped the sensations every part of his body was giving to yours.

You tightened around him. He all but whined behind you, moaning louder with each gradually sloppier thrust.

“Where, baby?” he groaned. “Where do you want it?”

“I-Inside, please,” you begged, forcing him closer to you, refusing to let him pull away from you. “Please give it to me inside.”

He pushed and pushed until he was finally spilling with you, each warm pulsation echoing within you as deep as he was.

He worked himself through his own orgasm, not granting you any relief despite your weakness. As he came to a complete stop, you were barely able to hold yourself up. Your hips sank down pathetically as he pulled himself away from you, moaning softly as he watched his essence pour from your entrance.

“Fuck, mama, you look so good for me,” he whispered. His fingers traced along your core at the mixture of spends. You cried out at the pure oversensitivity you were experiencing.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he said, collecting the pooling of cum around you and slowly pushing his finger back into you.

“Fuck, Mattheo,” you whined, eyes clenching shut.

“I just wanna make sure you get all of it,” he whispered, leaning down to press a biting kiss to your ass cheek. You whimpered at the slight pain fluttering across your skin.

“As a matter of fact, baby, I think you're gonna give me one more… just so I can make sure you're gonna come back to me no matter what,” he said.

And before you realized what he meant and could protest, you felt his mouth press to your core once again, his tongue working dangerous symbols against you.

And before you could remember to return to the party, Mattheo actually gave you two more orgasms—one extra for ‘good measure,’ he'd said. And you had collapsed against the mattress one final time before drifting off into the heaviest, most dreamless sleep you'd had in a while.

Nothing, it seemed, had been done whilst you were asleep, except that he'd dressed you in a pair of his pajamas, placed you beneath the covers, drawn the curtains around his canopy bed, and slid himself right beneath you and the covers. Almost as if he'd always belonged there. It seemed as if he was finding quite a bit of those spaces lately.

- - -

Tag List: @lilymurphy03 , @mypolicemanharryyy , @angelfrombeneth , @clairesjointshurt , @bunbunbl0gs , @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303 , @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw , @yhiiil, @xxrougefangxx , @thatblackthorn, @robinyx , @starsval , @jolly4holly , @blvebanisters , @chgrch, @ilovehotmenandwoman, @smutnyrobocikwrakiecie , @synicaljah , @abaker74 , @2dloveshp, @seagull-on-toast

[letscf]

[dreabastante]

Working on a companion piece for this story. Felt like a good time to reblog ❤️

Check out my new fic! Just something fluffy to get you through the day 😁

[httpvomitello]

Hiii I wanted to know if you’d be open to writing a George Weasley x fem reader where they are secretly dating and their relationship is revealed to everyone?? You can run with the plot I just enjoy your writing 🤗

Hellooo, thanks for the request and i hope you like it ~ ♡

Serpents & Sparkles .｡*･ﾟﾟ

Summary: You and George Weasley have been secretly dating for months, sneaking kisses behind tapestries, exchanging love notes disguised as prank plans, and stealing time together between classes. But nothing stays hidden at Hogwarts for long.

george weasley x f!Slytherin reader

You had never meant to fall for George Weasley. It just sort of... happened. Maybe it was the way he smirked at you in Potions, or the way he didn’t flinch when you sarcastically called him a “walking disaster with a wand.” Either way, you were doomed the moment he smuggled you chocolate frogs after a rough exam.

The biggest issue? You were in Slytherin. And not the cool, misunderstood kind. The you-wore-black-nail-polish-before-it-was-trendy kind. His friends—especially Ron and Lee—weren’t exactly rooting for Team Green-and-Gold.

Which is why your relationship had remained secret. You met in the astronomy tower, in the library’s farthest corner, and sometimes, during late-night kitchen raids with house-elves who pretended not to notice.

It had been perfect. Until it wasn’t.

It all unraveled one Friday afternoon.

Fred had caught you and George in a very compromising position—snogging behind a suit of armor near the Charms classroom.

Fred let out the most dramatic gasp imaginable. “GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY! IS THAT A SLYTHERIN IN YOUR MOUTH?!”

You stumbled away from George, your lipstick smudged and your pride in shambles.

“I—Fred—it’s not what it looks like—” George began.

“Oh, it’s exactly what it looks like,” Fred grinned, then turned to you. “Pleasure to meet the snake who's been stealing my brother’s lips.”

You tried to recover with a sarcastic, “Only when he's not stealing yours.”

Fred choked on his own laughter. “Okay. I like her. Don’t tell Ron.”

Too late.

Ron did not, in fact, like you. Nor did half of Gryffindor. When word spread faster than a firewhisky-fueled gossip train, you suddenly found yourself public enemy number one at the Gryffindor table.

“Why her?” Katie Bell asked George one day in the Great Hall. “She’s… a Slytherin.”

“She’s also right here,” you said dryly.

“I’m not ashamed of her,” George replied calmly. “So stop acting like she’s some criminal. She's smart. She's hilarious. She hexed Malfoy for calling Ginny a mudblood.”

“I mean... that was a good hex,” Angelina muttered.

But even with George defending you, things were awkward. You heard whispers, got cold stares, and even had a potion explode in your face mysteriously in Herbology.

You were used to being disliked. But this? This stung.

One evening, curled up beside George in a hidden alcove, you finally admitted, “I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

George kissed your forehead. “People don’t always like what they don’t understand. But I don’t care. I like you.”

You snorted. “You love me.”

He blushed. “Yeah… I do.”

There were still fights. George nearly dueled Ron in the common room. You might have threatened to feed Lee Jordan’s quill to a Hippogriff. But in between the chaos, there were moments of peace.

Like when you made fun of George’s hair during a failed dyeing experiment. Or when he enchanted your quill to write bad poetry about your eyes. Or when you both laughed so hard during detention that Filch gave up and left.

Eventually, people adjusted. Fred, surprisingly, became your wingman. Ginny offered to help you hex anyone who looked at you funny. Even Hermione—after an intense debate about house stereotypes—started sitting with you in the library.

And George? He never once let you feel alone.

One night, after dinner, George stood on a bench in the Great Hall and loudly announced: “This is my girlfriend. She is brilliant, terrifying, and has a better sense of humor than I do. And if anyone has a problem with her, you’ll be hearing from me—and Fred, who will probably write a limerick about your bad attitude.”

You were mortified. You were glowing.

Later that night, after a stolen kiss in the corridor, you whispered, “You’re insane.”

George grinned. “Comes with the red hair.”

You kissed him again, ignoring the grumpy portrait that muttered, “Slytherins these days…”

[mssorceressupreme]

The Way I Loved You | F.W

———

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Dumbledore has asked for every house to put on a performance during the Yule Ball, the winner will earn 250 House Points. For this particular dance you’re partnered up with George though you wish it was Fred, however during the dance George is nowhere to be found. You’re left there on the dance floor right before your performance, stranded, alone & embarrassed, will anyone save you?

Warnings: jealousy, mutual-pining, dance lessons from Fred Weasley, nothing else lol this one’s fluffy <3

A/N: was superrr inspired by that one scene in The Summer I Turned Pretty during the debutante ball where Conrad dances with Belly instead of Jeremiah 🥹🥹 feel free to listen to ‘That’s the Way I Loved You by Taylor swifts’ for this read

Sorry this one's kinda long, got a bit carried away but he's just so scrumdilicious x

———

The Gryffindor common room was lively with the crackle of the fireplace and the chatter of students winding down after a long day.

You sat cross-legged on the floor near Hermione, flipping through a book on charms, while Fred and George lounged on the sofa, tossing a chocolate frog back and forth like it was a Quaffle.

Lee was perched on the armrest, chiming in with his usual quips, and Ron was attempting—and failing—to beat Harry in wizard chess.

The portrait door swung open with a thud, and Ginny burst in, her face alight with excitement. “Everyone, listen up!” she called, cutting through the noise.

Fred groaned, tossing the chocolate frog into George’s lap. “What now?”

Ginny ignored him, standing proudly at the centre of the room. “Professor Dumbledore’s announced a competition taking place during the Yule Ball. Each house has to put on a performance, and the best one wins 250 house points!”

The room fell silent, except for the crackle of the fire.

“A performance?” Fred repeated, eyebrows raised. “You mean like... dancing in front of the entire school? Nope. No way. Count me out.”

“Oh, come on,” Ginny said, rolling her eyes. “You’re not scared, are you?”

“Scared? No. Smart? Yes,” Fred replied, sticking his tongue out at her teasingly.

Ginny mimicked him. “Fine. I wasn’t planning on pairing you anyway.”

“Good,” Fred said, leaning back smugly.

Lee raised his hand. “Yeah, same here. I’ll pass on the public humiliation, thanks.”

Fred breathed a slight sigh of relief at Ginny's words, thankful he had escaped that particular disaster. He noticed her next comment, however, and a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

“Great,” Ginny said, undeterred. “McGongall's put me in charge of organising's Gryffindor performance and I’ve already got pairs in mind! Harry and me, Ron and Hermione, Neville and Angelina, and—” she paused, grinning at you, “you and George.”

Fred perked up slightly at this but quickly masked it with a yawn.

"Let's goo Georgie!" Lifting your hand up for a high-five with George.

Fred watched as you high-fived George, his eyes narrow slightly with jealousy. He couldn't believe Ginny would pair YOU and George together. The thought of the two of you dancing together, moving in sync, made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

As the others continued discussing the dance, Fred's gaze flickered to you, watching as you interacted with the others. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to dance with you, spin you around the dance floor, hold you close...

Fred quickly shook his head, banishing the thoughts from his mind. He had to keep it together. He couldn't let everyone know that he was secretly hoping to dance with you. Besides, Ginny had already paired you with George. There was no way to change that now.

“Practice starts at 7 in the Great Hall tomorrow,” Ginny continued. “Don’t be late!” ___

Right at 7 the next day, the eight of you plus Fred and Lee started making their way to the great hall, the energy in the air buzzing with anticipation.

Fred reluctantly followed, his heart pounding in his chest as he entered the grand room. "Oi Fred what are you doing here, I don't recall you being in the dance." Ron teased.

Fred rolled his eyes at Ron's comment, feigning indifference. "Just thought I'd come see how the professionals do it. Don't get too cocky, Ronald."

George snickered at Fred's response, clearly enjoying watching his twin squirm. In reality, Fred was here solely to keep an eye on you and George dancing together.

"Alright Gin, what do you have in mind?" You asked excitedly about the choreography.

Ginny beamed at your enthusiasm and clapped her hands together. "So, for the slow part, we're doing a simple box-step. Just a few basic steps with some swaying and twirling, nothing too complicated."

She demonstrated the steps with one of the boys. It looked fairly simple, a basic back and forth moving step with some twirling and having your arms around your partner.

"It's a fairly easy dance, with clear instructions for each step, just remember to move in sync with your partner, or it'll look like a chaotic mess." She chuckled.

She demonstrated the dance, moving her body to the beat of the imaginary music. It involved swaying, spinning, and stepping, all in time with the music. "That looks amazing, should be a piece of cake to get down." You noted.

You and George paired off going to one corner to rehearse while Ginny helped the others, and to your surprise, the two of you picked up the routine quickly.

“You’re a natural,” George said with a grin as you spun gracefully under his arm.

Across the hall, Fred and Lee sat against the wall, their arms crossed. Fred was trying to act indifferent, but his eyes kept wandering to you.

“You’re staring,” Lee said, nudging him.

“Am not,” Fred muttered, tearing his gaze away.

“Yes, you are. You’re jealous,” Lee teased, smirking.

Fred scoffed. “Jealous? Of George? Don’t be ridiculous.”

But the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him.

George, with a cheeky grin, took the lead, his hands confidently on your waist. He led you through the basic box-step, his movements smooth and precise. You, too, followed his guidance gracefully, executing the steps effortlessly.  You blushed, looking into his eyes as this was the first time you'd properly danced with a guy.

Though George was a delight to dance with, you couldn't help but secretly wish it was Fred, your long-time crush. But no way would you admit that to anyone, you did not want to ruin the long-term friendship you had with him, or worse, change the dynamic of the friend group.

Thinking of Fred, you looked over at him, making eye contact with him momentarily. 

Fred, watching from the corner, felt a sting in his chest when he met your eyes. The sight of you and George dancing together was almost too painful to bear. He tried to stay neutral, but the longing in his eyes betrayed his emotions. ___

The next day, you found yourself in the courtyard, practicing under a tree. George had been called away for something, so you were left to rehearse the steps alone.

“Left foot back, right foot forward... no, wait—” you muttered, stumbling.

Unbeknownst to you, Fred had been passing by when he noticed you under the tree. He paused, watching as you put your books aside and started recalling the dance steps. He stood there for a moment, debating whether to approach you or not. 

His heart was telling him to go over, strike up a conversation, flirt a bit. But his mind, the rational part of him, held him back.

He knew he should keep his distance, not get involved further. But he seemed to be losing the battle with himself.

Taking a deep breath, he decided he couldn't resist anymore. He walked over to you, trying to maintain his usual carefree demeanour.

From behind you came a familiar voice. “You’re doing it all wrong.”

You spun around to see Fred leaning against the tree, arms crossed and a smug grin on his face.

“Fred, go away,” you said, exasperated. “I’m trying to practice.”

“I can see that,” he said, strolling over. “And failing spectacularly, I might add.”

"I'm serious, I don't want to let Ginny down." You glared at him, pushing him away playfully.

Fred stumbled back a step, faking defeat. He chuckled as he regained his footing, his smirk widening. "Oh, I know, I know, can't have dear Ginny's dance being ruined, can we?" "Exactly. Now if you mind, i'm trying to recall my steps." You mentally practice in you head, moving slightly as you did so to your own rhythm. Fred chuckled, finding it slightly amusing and endearing how focused you were on remembering the steps. He leaned against the tree, crossing his arms, watching you with a mixture of playful mockery and genuine admiration. You then mimick the steps, putting your arm out pretending George was in front of you but it was hard without someone in front to guide you, "Wait no like this...? Two steps to the right?...or left was it?"

Fred watched you struggle, your movements clearly off without a partner to guide you. He couldn't help but smirk at your frustration and confusion, finding it quite charming how determined you were despite the difficulty. He pushed off the tree, coming to stand beside you.

"You know, I could help you, if you want. I'm an expert dance teacher, you know."  "Yeah right 'Mr. I Hate Dancing'..." You roll your eyes.

"Hey, don't underestimate me. I'll have you dancing like a pro in no time." He was confident, folding his arms proudly at his proclamation. "Fine, whatever, show me." You feigned defeat, desperately needing more help. Fred chuckled, pleased by your acceptance and secretly happy that he could be the one helping you for a change. "Alright, let's get started. Firstly, you need to focus on your stance. Feet slightly apart, weight slightly forward."

He demonstrated by adjusting his own stance, and then stepped closer to you, gesturing towards you to do the same. As you adjusted your stance accordingly, Fred came to stand directly in front of you, facing you.

His eyes traveled from your face down to your feet, sizing you up as he mentally began planning the steps he was about to explain. 

He continued, instructing you further as he shifted a bit closer. His voice was now lower, a hint of command in his tone.

"Now, you step back with your left leg first. Slightly bend your right knee as you do." He instructed and you nodded, watching him in a serious demeanour was rather attractive.

Unusual from his playful self, you observed his face, how he was focused, eyebrows furrowed, focused on helping you. "Good, now bring your right foot up to meet your left, closing the gap. Good, good. Keep your weight balanced between your feet. Don't lock your knees, just a little bend will do." You tried doing so but tripped, losing balance. Fred reacted quickly, his hands instinctively reaching out to steady you. He caught you in his arms, pulling you against his chest to prevent you from falling.

He chuckled softly, his hands still on your hips to keep you upright. "Woah, easy there. You're a bit clumsy today, aren't ya?" Yeah because you're so close to me right now Fred. You chuckle nervously. "Whoops, my bad!"

"It's a good thing I've got my reflexes, or you would have kissed the ground just now." He laughed, helping you steady yourself. "Hey maybe the ground needed a good kiss." You tease back jokingly.

Fred laughed aloud at your cheeky remark, his hands still on your waist, thumbs tracing small circles against your sides. He tilted his head slightly, arching one eyebrow mischievously.

"Oh really? And what about me? Do I get a kiss too since I saved you from kissing the ground?" He joked, but something in his eyes told you he partly meant what he said.

You blushed but played it off, "Yeah yeah you wish Weasley, now come on show me the steps."

Fred chuckled at your attempt to brush off his comment, but he couldn't help feeling a twinge of disappointment. Nevertheless, he complied, refocusing his attention back on the dancing lesson.

"Alright, alright. Let's try that again. Back step, knees bent, weight balanced, and..."

He demonstrated each step as he spoke, his hands guiding your hips gently on your left and right. As he moved, his body was incredibly close to yours.

The heat from his breath fanned against your skin, and his hands firmly grasping your hips sent tingles through your body. He could sense the effect his touch was having on you, yet he kept a calm and composed expression, maintaining the facade of a dancing teacher. Fred continued the lesson, occasionally correcting your stance, or gently repositioning your hips. Each time his touch lingered for a few moments longer than necessary, his fingers gently grazing your skin sending a small spark of electricity through your entire body.

Yet, he kept his focus on the lesson, acting as if he was completely oblivious to the effect he was having on you.

"Like this?" You ask, then show him your steps. Fred watched you closely, his eyes following the movement of your feet and hips as you demonstrated the steps.

He smiled approvingly, impressed with how quickly you were catching on. "Yes, yes, that's it. You've got it. Just keep your weight balanced and move with the rhythm. You're doing great." "Wow really?" You gleamed with joy, finally noting the steps down. 

Fred chuckled, enjoying the joy and excitement on your face as you realised you were getting the steps down. He nodded, a proud smile on his face."Of course really. I told you, didn't I? I'm an excellent dance teacher. Just a few more practices, and you'll be gliding across the dance floor like a pro tomorrow." "I'spose I do have a okay teacher." You remarked nonchalantly. 

George watched us then cleared his throat, holding himself back from chortling, "Okay, okay nice show. It's time for some real dancing now Y/N."

As George cleared his throat, both you and Fred looked over at him, having been so engrossed in the dancing lesson that you hadn't noticed his presence.

"Enjoying the show, were you Georgie?" Fred hummed.

"More like trying not to throw up from the eyes you were giving each other." George joked, knowing Fred's evident crush on you, "Anyway, it's time for practice, it's 7. Came looking for Y/N." George spoke, walking over to me.

As Fred released you from his grip, you felt a short wave of disappointment as his hands left your hips. But before you could dwell on that, George's hand took its place, his touch familiar and comforting yet lacking the spark that Fred's had.

George smiled at you, oblivious to the lingering tension between you and Fred. You looked back at Fred who stood there by himself, then turned to George who was walking with you.  As you followed George, you couldn't help but glance back at Fred. He remained by the tree, watching you as you moved away with George.

There was a mix of emotions in his eyes - disappointment, longing, and perhaps a hint of jealousy. Fred tried to act casually, leaning against the tree with his arms crossed, but his mind was swirling with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

Though he knew George meant no harm, seeing you with George was painful, especially since he was the one who had just been holding you close, teaching you the steps just moments ago.

___ The night of the Yule Ball arrived, and the Great Hall was a vision of sparkling decorations and twinkling lights. As you lined up with the other Gryffindors in one of the waiting rooms before your performance, George suddenly clutched his stomach.

"You alright George?" You ask, placing a hand on his back.

George waved his hand dismissively, trying to downplay his discomfort. "Yeah, I'm good. Just a bit of an upset stomach. Probably ate something rotten earlier. I'll be alright, don't worry." 

George then excused himself and went to the bathroom, feeling unwell. He hurried to the bathroom, trying to compose himself.

Meanwhile, Ginny, Angelina, and Hermione approached you, wearing concerned expressions.

"Is George okay? He look a bit pale just now..." Concern lacing in Hermione's voice.

"Tummy ache, probably ate something wrong earlier, its okay he'll be back in time for the dance..." You hoped, nervously as you began walking toward the hall, everyone waiting for your Gryffindor group, or team, to perform. 

Hermione nodded, her worry still visible. The three girls followed you out of the room, walking down the corridor toward the Great Hall where the entire school was waiting.

As the four of you reached the entrance to the Great Hall, the sound of hushed whispers and applause grew louder and louder. Every student in Hogwarts was gathered within, their eyes fixed on the stage, eagerly awaiting your grand performance. With every step you took toward the stage, the crowd's applause grew louder and louder. As the four of you finally took your places at the front of the stage, the audience erupted into cheers.

The boys then took their positions in their respective places, and the energy in the room was electric with anticipation. Still, George was no where to be seen. "Hey Ron, have you seen George?"you asked, but no luck.

Ron shook his head, looking just as concerned as you. "No, mate. I thought he was with you guys. Have you checked the bathroom?" You shook your head, "Harry, do you know where George is?"

Harry looked just as puzzled, worry etched on his face. "No, haven't seen him. He ran off earlier. Thought he was just going to the bathroom." "Neville, have you seen George?" You asked. Neville scratched his head, thinking. "Last I saw him, he was heading to the bathrooms. I thought he was just feeling a bit under the weather."The minutes ticked by, the tension in the room building. Everyone was in their positions, ready to dance, but you were standing there, feeling anxious without your partner. The audience started noticing the delay, their whispers turning into murmurs of confusion and anticipation. Oh no, you glanced around the room looking at the audience, this was the worst thing ever, you felt humiliated. Your heart raced, the feeling of embarrassment and hopelessness washing over you.

Every pair in the room was in their positions, ready to dance, except for you. Your eyes darted around the room, seeing the murmurs and whispers of the audience. You felt exposed, the spotlight on you as the delay continued.Hermione, Ginny, and Angelina watched you with sympathetic and worried expressions. They wanted to help, but there was nothing they could do. The situation was growing more embarrassing by the second as the absence of your partner became more glaringly obvious to everyone in the great hall. Professor McGonagall, standing at the back of the great hall, noticed the delay and the lack of a partner for you. She furrowed her eyebrows, puzzled by the situation.

The murmurs and whispers from the audience grew louder, filling the air with a sense of suspense. Just as the whispers grew even louder, Fred's gaze fell upon you.

His eyes widened in shock upon seeing you standing alone, looking visibly upset. He exchanged a worried look with Lee, who looked just as concerned. Fred's heart ached seeing you alone up there. 

Fred's mind raced, torn between his conflicting emotions. He wanted to charge up onto the stage and take your place as your partner, but something held him back. He looked at Lee, silently pleading for advice.

--- cue: That's the Way I Loved You by Taylor Swift ---

Fred couldn't bear the sight of you standing there alone, feeling more helpless by the second. He shot a determined look at Lee, silently letting him know that he had made up his mind.

Without another moment of hesitation, Fred pushed past the other couples and walked confidently toward the stage.

The murmurs in the audience grew louder, watching the unexpected scene unfold before them.

It felt as though time slowed down when you watched him approach you, your gazes fixed on each other, drowning out everyone else in the room. As Fred approached the front of the stage, his heart thumping in his chest, he met your worried eyes. He offered you a reassuring smile, silently letting you know everything was going to be alright now. 

Fred took his position beside you, the audience watching in stunned surprise as the change of plan unfolded before their eyes. Fred glanced at you once more, his eyes brimming with a mix of concern and determination.

You smiled at him, relieved, comforted, excited, all at once. Fred smiled back at you, mirroring your own excitement and relief. He offered you a wink, trying to lighten the moment a bit. "You didn't think I'd let you dance alone like this, did you?" "The steps..do you...?" You smile widely but was worried he might've forgotten the steps.

Fred chuckled, noticing your concern. "Please, I've been watching you guys practicing for ages. I know these steps as well as I know the back of my hand."  You smile widely...it was him. Fred, your Fred that you would be dancing with.  Fred grinned in return, loving the look of joy on your face. He couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement himself. He had dreamt of dancing with you like this for so long, and now here he was, finally getting the chance.

As the music started, you and Fred began moving in perfect sync, his strong hands effortlessly leading you through the steps of the dance.

The worry and uncertainty from earlier melted away, replaced by a feeling of pure magic as the two of you danced together on the stage. You gazed into his eyes lovingly, blushing, your heart beating faster because of how close your were.  Fred's eyes met yours, his heart racing with every step you took together. He was acutely aware of how close you were, the feel of your body near his sending his body into heat.

He could practically feel your heart beating as fast as his own. He tried to keep his composure, concentrating on leading you through the dance, but the way you looked at him made it incredibly difficult. As Fred pulled you closer, your bodies now almost pressed up against each other, he couldn't help but smile. Your shy smile sent his heart into a frenzy, making the dance even more thrilling.

As the music came to an end, the great hall erupted in a chorus of loud cheers and applause. You and Fred stood side by side, panting slightly from the exertion.

Your hearts were still racing, the excitement of the dance lingering in the air. Fred's hand was still holding yours, a warm smile on his face as he looked at you.

"I love you." Fred suddenly said.

"What?!" You responded, over the loud yelling and cheers. "I said, I love you." He confessed, stepping closer cupping your cheeks tenderly, "I always have Y/N. You're the only thing that's been on my mind for awhile now. Merlin, you consume my thoughts 24/7, I just, you're the best thing that has happened to me and I-"

You cut him off with a passionate kiss, meeting his lips with gentleness.

Warmth blossomed in your chest, sparks igniting as your lips brushed together with Fred's, for the first time. The smell of his cologne, was dizzying, electrifying, sending butterflies in your stomach.

His lips soft and gentle against yours, they were gentle, the way he was gentle with you, the way he cared for you spoke volumes through this kiss.

The both of you pulled away, he leaned down, resting forehead to forehead and grinning widely. "I love you too, Fred Weasley."

[missetbilu]

KEEPING A CLOSE EYE*

perv!fred weasley x fem!reader, smut

when fred overhears you and the girls chit chatting about boys that you fancy, he can’t keep his mind from wandering, nor his hand.

warnings: perv concept, jerking off

"Come on, Y/N, there's gotta be someone you fancy." Ginny elbowed you, trying to get a response.

Angelina, Hermione, Ginny and yourself were in your favorite little spot in the library. A very secluded area, where you could study, sneak in some food, talk, without prying eyes or ears.

Although in that afternoon, you were not very much enjoying the topic of choice. Boys. Too shy to come clean about your little crush, you would much rather gossip or even focus on the charms essay due next week than engage in the conversation. But the girls were not having it.

"Yeah, even Hermione admitted to being completely, head over heels, in love with Ron." Angelina teased.

"Hey!" The girl blushed and looked away for a second, but curiosity got the best of her and she gave in to the argument. "She's right tho, you're the only one left."

"I just don't think of any guy here like that."

"In this castle full of boys, you expect me to believe not even a single one of them is your type?" Ginny said.

"Unless you're into girls."

"I'm not." You laughed at Angelina's curious expression. "I like men."

"Then name one you would" Hermione stopped herself mid sentence, suddenly a bit shy, "...you know."

"Fuck?" Angelina completed her thought and they all laughed, Hermione also shushing her and looking around to make sure they were alone.

"Alright." You took a deep breath and tried to sound as nonchalant as you possibly could. "I guess Fred is kind of cute."

"Aw dude, are you serious?" Ginny's disappointment was so clear in her face that the three other girls bursted out laughing.

"Shhh, guys, I don't wanna get kicked out." Hermioned said between giggles.

"Sorry, babe, but this was too good not to laugh at." Angelina responded, still chuckling.

"Too good? All my friends wanna fuck my brothers."

And you all fell into laughter again.

-

It had been a week since Fred discovered that spot of yours to hang out. Whenever you and the girls disappeared from his sight, he would get anxious, wondering where you might be.

Until the day he was looking for a potions book, but found something far better: you.

He managed to hide in the corridor next to the one where the group of girls would sit on the floor and chit chat. Usually he took no interest in the conversations you would have. But not that day. Throughout the whole week he listened to each silly subject the girls brought up, only paying attention to the sound of your angelic voice when you made a comment. That day it was different. Once the tables turned from homework to guys you fancied, Fred felt his heart skip a beat.

He was nervous, his palms becoming sweaty as each of the girls rambled about one boy after the other. He barely listened to the guys his sister brought up, nor to the mentions of his brothers. What mattered most to him was what you were going to say. He was so afraid of hearing another man's name fall out of your pretty lips; so afraid you would confess to feeling attracted to someone else.

But he was also infatuated with the possibility of his name being the one in your mind. You quietly listened to what your friends had to say, too scared to say something yourself, Fred saw that in your expression as he tried to eye your figure from the place where he was hiding. Just thinking about it, being him the person you kept yourself from mentioning, made his trousers feel a bit too tight. His hand travelled down to his growing bulge, but he didn't move it, he didn't want to risk not hearing you.

Your silence allowed his imagination to run wild. Maybe this whole thing got her thinking about how good I would fuck her, and she's afraid of sharing those filthy thoughts. He stroked his cock once, over the fabric of his clothes. Or perhaps she's so lost in the desire of getting filled up with my cum, she didn't even notice how quiet she's been... oh fuck... He did it again and had to hold back a moan.

Fred knew he shouldn’t, but it was as if he had no control over his actions. His hand slipped past his boxers and he stroked his dick, trying so hard to imagine it was you doing it.

Has she ever had a wet dream with me? He wondered. She would wake up sweaty and out of breath. Her panties are completely damp, but it's not because of the sweat, it's arousal. I bet she would be embarrassed, looking around the dorm to see if the other girls are sleeping, before she goes under the covers and... He gasps quietly, his hands going a bit faster now. And she lets her hand touch her dripping cunt... He bites his lip to stop himself from cursing. Her sweet fingers would tease her clit and she wouldn't be able to stop a moan of my name from coming out.

"Alright." When the word left your mouth he slowed down his movement, focusing on the head of his member. It was almost painful the way he teased his tip, trying to pay attention to what you were about to say. He even held his breath, that and the expectation making him even more sensitive. "I guess Fred is kind of cute."

Fred was really thankful for the loud laughter of the group that followed your confession, because the minute he heard your sugary voice saying his name, it was too much. He came in his hand with a low grunt.

He didn't listen to anything said after that. He didn't move or took his hand off of his trousers. He was in shock. As much as he wanted that outcome, it felt unreal now that it happened. He had imagined how you would sound saying you fancied him, what words you would choose and what exactly would be the look on your face. But none of it compared to the reality of it all.

You, such a perfect picture of beauty, intelligence, kindness. The most incredible, endearing and angelical woman he had ever set his eyes upon, out of all people, wanted him.

Fred waited until you all had left to pick himself up from his spot on the floor and attempt to use some spells and his robes to hide the stain in his pants. He did a good job, it wasn't too noticeable, but deep down he didn't care. There was something, or rather someone, much more important in his mind.

He stood in front of the corridor where you had been just a few minutes before. "I guess Fred is kind of cute." That played in his head over and over again, like a broken record. And Fred definitely didn't want to fix it.