#charlie weasley angst

[fredgeorgegredfeorge]

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[raven-dor]

Hi, could you write something with Charlie Weasley x reader, where reader is friends with the twins and they invite her to the burrow where she meets Charlie, and she's really smart and knows a lot about dragons and that's how her and Charlie start to bond.

Also could reader maybe be a Slytherin, I'm a Slytherin so I just think reader would be too, but the house can be unspecified or something else if you want.

lost without you

in which charlie weasley meets the love of his life

PAIRING: charlie weasley x slytherin!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, sneaking around, falling out, love confessions, molly weasley (sorry...)

AN: i love this request so much... thank you for asking!!

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

🎶 : lost without you - freya ridings

She was exhausted, that was for sure. Spending all night- she blushed. She shouldn’t have done that, but he was so kind and strong. Mysterious but gentle. He was brilliant; she could tell by the look in his eyes. 

She giggled as he kissed down her neck, squirming from his touch. He scoffed, no malice behind it. “Love, stop moving…” 

She blushed wildly, hiding her face behind her hands. “I never do this…” 

He pulled himself back to her level, prying her hands away. “There you are.” He whispered. “Don’t hide from me, please.” 

“I’m embarrassed.” She whispered back. “I never-” 

“Never do this.” He smirked, laying beside her and staring at her intensely. “You’ve said.” 

She moved herself closer, tracing shapes on his chest. “What do you do for work?”

He laughed, and she thought to herself he had a rather jolly laugh. “Do you really want to know?” 

She nodded, her eyes begging to shut. His hold was comforting despite the fact that she had known him for approximately two hours. “You look like you have a…” She yawned. “An interesting job.” 

He smiled, leaning his head on hers. “I work in…” 

She had fallen asleep before she had heard where.

Y/N blushed thinking about it. There she was, sleeping in a stranger's arms. 

Then again, it hadn’t felt like that. It felt like she had known him for years. She shook her head, trying to stop herself from daydreaming. George laughed, nudging her ever so softly. “Wake up, Dolly Daydream.” 

She rolled her eyes, shoving him away from her. “I am awake, thank you very much.” 

Fred smirked. “You have that look on your face.” 

“What look?” She glared. “I don’t have a look.” 

He nodded. “Yes, you do.” He laughed. “It's that look when you can't stop thinking about someone.” 

George wiggled his eyebrows. "A secret admirer, perhaps?"

She turned beat red, walking ahead of them to escape the interrogation. 

The twins had a tradition, one they had kept up since they’d gotten into Hogwarts. Every Sunday during the summer, their best friend would come to the Burrow for dinner. There had never been a Sunday she had missed (besides the brief time she was on the run from Voldemort with Ron, Hermione, and Harry). 

And in all that time, Y/N could proudly say she had met every one of their siblings. Except Charlie. According to Mrs. Weasley (who Y/N knew was prone to dramatics) he absolutely hated his family and chose the furthest possible job to worry her. 

Y/N was sure it was because he actually wanted to go to Romania. All her children were good people, and she doubted Charlie stressed his mother out on purpose. 

They had been walking into the Burrow when a shriek rang out from inside the home. Gripping their wands, they ran in ready to fight, when they saw that the shriek had come from Mrs. Weasley, who was sobbing rather dramatically. 

They lowered their wands, peering further into the house to see a young man, not much younger than Bill, being hugged tightly by Ginny. Fred and George left their best friend's side instantly, hugging the man tightly.

“Charlie!” 

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes widening instantly when he turned around. 

What was he- This was the infamous Charlie Weasley. Seeker, Head Boy, and expert Dragonoligist. His grin was bright, and she loved the way his freckles accentuated his cheeks. He locked eyes with her, a twinkle appearing in them. He extended his hand, his voice light and full of humor. “You must be Y/N.” 

She nodded, ignoring the fact that her cheeks felt like they were on fire. She could never tell George and Fred. “That’s me.” 

He smiled, shaking her hand lightly. “I’m Charlie.” 

“I know.” Her eyes widened, and she stumbled over her words, backtracking. “I meant that- Fred and George- I’ve met all of your siblings, so I just thought-” 

He laughed, interrupting her. “It’s alright.” 

Fred raised an eyebrow, clearing his throat. “Shall we eat? I’m famished.” 

Y/N nodded, walking away from Charlie abruptly. George linked arms with his friend, pulling a face when she looked up at him. She rolled her eyes, shoving him away and sitting down. 

Molly smiled at her second eldest son, loading food onto his plate. “You look as if you’ve been starved, Charlie.” 

He glared, taking the food without complaint. “I’ve gained weight since you last saw me, Mum.” 

“What have they been feeding you in Romania?” 

“The same thing you’re giving me now, Mum.” He looked over at Y/N, winking. “I’m all muscle now.” 

Fred shoved him, hissing. “What are you doing?” 

Y/N’s cheeks were still red, and she looked away. Was he trying to fluster her; because he was succeeding. Charlie kept pestering her with small talk, much to her and her blushing nature’s dismay.

“What house were you then?” 

“Slytherin.” She spoke through her food. Placing a hand over her mouth, she said it once more. “I was in Slytherin.” 

His eyebrows rose, but he made no movement to disparage her house. “Makes sense that the twins were drawn to you.” He smirked. “They’ve always been rather cunning.” 

Molly sighed. “You are one of the only Slytherins I’ve been able to stand talking to.” She smiled. “Which is quite the feat.” 

Y/N smiled shyly, not liking all the attention that was currently on her. Normally, she faded into the background, only providing (what she thought) were witty remarks when necessary. And now, here he was, pulling her out of her shell. It was some kind of cruel joke, she decided, that they had met the way they had.

Loud knocks rang through her apartment, and she groaned, shoving her face into her pillow. “One moment!” 

The knocks persisted, and she threw the covers off of her body, racing towards the door, wand in hand. “I said one-” She tilted her head, looking through the peephole to see Charlie. Now suddenly highly self-conscious about her appearance, she cast a beauty spell, smoothing out her hair before opening the door. “Hiya.” 

He nodded. “May I come in?” 

She crossed her arms. “Why?” 

He smirked, stepping closer. “Is it so shocking that I wanted to see you?” 

She blushed, stepping aside so he could enter. Watching suspiciously as he looked around at her flat, she shut the door. “You wanted to see me? That’s it?” 

He nodded, picking up a photo album. “What’s in here I wonder?” 

Y/N laughed, reaching out to steal it from his hold. “Charlie-” 

“Indulge me.” He sat down, patting the cushion beside him. “Tell me about them.” 

She sat beside him, peering over her shoulder and explaining each photo he asked about. “That’s me and the twins in fifth year. I think that was two days after they’d left the hospital wing.” 

Charlie laughed. “When they tried to enter the Triwizard Tournament?” 

She nodded, laughing with him. “Exactly. And that-” She pointed to the next photo. “Is me and George at the Yule Ball.” 

He tensed. “You and George-” 

She shook her head quickly, placing a hand on his arm. “We’re just friends, trust me. Ange would have my head.” 

He smiled. “Ah. Well…” He looked back at the book, smirking at the baby photo. “What’s this-” 

She snatched the book from his hands, clutching it to her chest. “Absolutely not.” 

Charlie had been coming over practically every day since his first impromptu visit. During those visits, they’d discovered that they both had a mutual love of dragons and that her knowledge of dragons rivaled his, a professional dragonkeeper. 

(She never let him forget it.) 

She sat at her bar as Charlie cooked them a Romanian dish he had made ‘one hundred times before.’ Y/N trusted his cooking, after all his mother was Molly Weasley. She then reasoned with herself that his brothers were also Fred and George, who couldn’t cook to save their lives. He moved around her kitchen like he’d lived there for ages, and she tried not to drool as she watched his muscular frame. 

He cleared his throat, laughing. “Williams? You alright?” 

She sat up, realizing she had started daydreaming. Nodding quickly, she smiled. “Great.” 

He sat his spoon down, walking over to her until they were right by each other. “Are you sure? You seemed…” He whispered, staring at her lips. “Distracted.” 

She laughed, walking away. Salazar, if he looked at her like that again, she didn’t know if she could resist- “No, I-” A hand grabbed her wrist, and she gasped. Her skin felt like it was on fire. “Charlie.”

He stood behind her, his breath fanning over her neck. “Tell me you haven’t thought about that night, and I’ll stop. I swear to you.” 

“Charlie, we can’t…” 

“Don’t.” He pulled her close. “Have you thought about that night, yes or no?” 

“Yes.” She nodded, turning around to face him. “Every night.”

He smirked, leaning down. “Every night huh?” 

She nodded once more. “Charlie, stop teasing. It’s-” 

He slammed his lips against hers, grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his waist. “Godric, you’re going to be the ruin of me.” 

That had been months ago. She had felt horrible, keeping it a secret from the twins, Ron, and Salazar, Ginny too. She hadn’t told anyone, which could have been why she felt so wracked with guilt. It was odd, she told herself, to be sleeping with her best friend’s older brother. 

But when Charlie held her in his arms, she forgot all about her guilt. Her heart felt full, and she reasoned with herself that Fred and George would be happy for her if she told them. Happy that she finally found someone that cared about her as much as she-

“Love?” Charlie's voice rang through the door. “Can I come in?” 

She yelled back, casting a beauty spell over herself. “It’s open!” Walking out of her bedroom, she smiled shyly at the ginger man, holding hoards of groceries in his arms. He sat them down on the counter, taking each item out and putting them away.

“How was work?” 

She shrugged. “Same as always I suppose. Kingsley told me if I keep it up, I could be one of the youngest team leads in history.” She laughed, helping him put the last of it away. “Except Harry, of course.” 

Charlie nodded. “He’s quite the talented wizard.” Grabbing the vegetables for their salad, he began rinsing them off in the sink. She walked over, wrapping her arms around his torso. He hummed, smiling to himself. “Do you think we should-” She closed her eyes, taking in his rich scent of teakwood and tobacco. “Do you think we should tell my family about us?” 

Her eyes shot open, and she pulled away from him like he was scolding hot. “What?” 

His back tensed, but he didn’t turn around. “Mum’s been asking to meet the girl who’s been taking up all my time.” 

“Well, what did you say?” She walked toward her fridge, grabbing a butterbeer. 

“I said I’d have to ask her.” He turned around, watching anxiously as she refused to make eye contact. “So, what do you say?” 

“Charlie…” 

His voice was small. “Are you- are you embarrassed?” 

“No it’s not…” She sighed. “It’s not that, Charlie. I just-” 

“I’m sorry I brought it up.” He interrupted. “Let’s just go back to making dinner.” 

She nodded, not wanting to break their peace. But as the night went on, she realized their peace had been broken as soon as she said she hadn’t wanted to tell everyone. The air was tense as they ate, the once warm air turned freezing from the distance between them. She cleared her throat, setting down her fork. “I’ve been meaning to bring this up to you.” 

His face looked sullen, but he sat his fork down as well, staring into her eyes. Her heart fluttered, Salazar, he was beautiful. “Yes?” 

“I-” She gulped. “I think we should stop seeing each other.” 

He nodded calmly. “Is there someone else?” 

She shook her head adamantly. “Merlin, no! I just… I think it’s odd. Don’t you?” 

He tilted his head. “What do you think is odd about this?”

“That you and I-” She stuttered. “I’m their best friend.” 

He nodded. “You are.” 

“It feels wrong, lying to them.” 

“Well,” His voice held a frustration she had never heard before. “That is why we'd tell them.” 

“Charlie…” She was getting tired. “It’s not fair to you; me not wanting to tell them. I’m just-” 

“What?” He laughed hurmourlessly. “What are you?”

“You could be out there, finding someone who you could end up…” She blushed. “You know.” 

He stood up, grabbing his things. “I thought that was you.” His eyes looked heartbroken, and she honestly didn’t know why she was doing this to them. Everything was fine, why- “Because you are.” He smiled lightly. “You are that for me.” 

Her eyes started tearing up. “I’m sorry.” 

He shook his head. “It’s alright.” Opening the door, he whispered over his shoulder. “I’ll see you around then.” 

She’d been a mess for weeks. She’d practically shunned everyone from her life, only going to work because she needed money to live. Peeling off her dress robes, a knock echoed through her flat. Odd, she hadn’t had any planned visitors. “One moment.” 

The knocks were never ending, and she rolled her eyes, stalking towards the door. “I said-” The twins stood in front of her. “Oh.” She stiffened. “Hi.” 

They scoffed, George breaking the tension. “You look like a right mess, Williams.” 

Fred nudged him, murmuring. “George…” He smiled at the girl standing in front of them. “You alright love?” 

Her eyes widened. The last time she’d been called love… It was like she couldn’t forget him. She nodded, ushering them in. “Sit, sit.” 

They came in, taking in their surroundings. Fred cleared his throat. “What have you been up to?” 

“Nothing much.” She forced herself to smile. “How’s the shop?” 

George squinted. “We haven’t seen you for three weeks, and you’re asking how the shop is?” He stood closer to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “What happened, love?” 

“I-” Her throat felt as if it was closing. “Nothing. I swear.” 

He shook his head. “Fine, you don’t need to tell us.” He sat down on the couch, Fred following after him. “Mum’s been asking why you haven’t come to dinner lately.” 

She winced. How would she get out of this?

Answer: she wouldn’t. 

Because moments after, they were flooing to the Burrow, Mrs.Weasley wrapping her arms around her. “Where have you been?” 

She blushed, hugging the older witch back. “Work was busy.” She winced as Mrs.Weasley’s unconvinced stare pierced her soul. “I’m sorry.” 

Mrs. Weasley laughed, ushering her inside. “No apologies necessary. Have you been eating? You look frail, dear.” 

“I-” Charlie was in the kitchen, and upon hearing his mother’s voice, turned around. She felt like she could melt. “Weasley.” 

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Williams.” 

Mrs. Weasley interrupted. “Why don’t you take a seat in the living room dear. I’ll add an extra plate to the table.” 

She nodded. “Thank you Mrs.Weasley.” Scurrying past Charlie, she plopped down on the couch, staring at the ceiling. 

“You’re alive.” A woman’s voice broke through the silence. She turned her head over, smiling at the new presence.

“Hey Gin.” She stood up, hugging her tightly. “I missed you.” 

Ginny hummed. “I missed you too.” Pulling out of the hug, she grabbed her friend's hands in hers. “Tell me what happened between you and Charlie.” 

Her eyes practically fell out of her sockets. “What are you-” 

Ginny glared. “Don’t play dumb with me. He’s been a whiny mess lately, that can’t be coincidence.” 

“There could be a million reasons for why he's whining. You don’t-” Ginny sat down on the couch, pulling her along.

“What did he do?” Ginny whispered. “I’m very skilled at the Bat Bogey Hex.” 

She laughed. “I know you are. Trust me, it wasn’t his fault. I-” She sighed, leaning against the back of the couch. “I thought you’d be upset at me, if you knew I was seeing your brother. Besides, Charlie is sweet, I’m not the right fit for him.” 

A deep voice echoed through the room. “Don’t you think that’s for me to decide?” Ginny’s eyes widened, and Y/N stared back, begging her not to leave. “Could you give us a moment, Gin?” 

She held on to Ginny’s hands as tightly as she could, but Ginny pulled away, murmuring sorry as she raced out of the room, no doubt telling her boyfriend and entire family. So much for secrecy. Taking a deep breath, she stood up, waving casually. “Charlie.” 

“You’re not the right fit?” He scoffed, walking close enough so that he could whisper and only she would hear. “You’re not the right fit, really?” 

“You know what I meant.” 

“I don’t really.” He grabbed her hands in his. “You are what I’ve-” He took a deep breath, most likely gathering the courage to tell her. “You are what I’ve always wanted. What I’ve always dreamt of.” 

She blushed. “Don’t patronize me…” 

“Love…” He tilted his head. “You are everything to me, and it kills me to be apart from you. Really.” 

“I don’t know how the twins would react-” 

“Who cares!” He yelled, quickly remembering he was inside and lowering his voice. “Who cares? I love you and I-” Charlie’s golden eyes widened, and he stuttered. “I mean-” His smile was sure, brighter even. “I love you, and if you love me, then we can make it. Through anything, including my brother’s disapproval.” Pulling her as close as he physically could, he whispered. “I don’t think I can be that separated from you ever again. It was torture, Williams.” He leaned down, their foreheads leaning against each other. “Utter torture.” 

“I love you too-” He pulled her lips to his, kissing her as deep as his body would allow him. She squeaked, melting in his touch. “Charlie, wait just a moment.” He groaned, leaning his head on her shoulder. “I know you could do perfectly fine with your brother’s disapproval, but they’re my best friends. I can’t just… I can’t lose them.” 

He whispered into the crook of her neck, chills running down her spine. “Even if that meant losing me?” 

She kissed his temple, humming. “I’m sorry.” Forcing herself to pull away, she ignored the chills that fell down her spine when Charlie grabbed her wrist, halting her in her tracks.

"I admire it, how fiercly loyal you are to my brothers." He laughed. "Very Gryffindor of you, I must say."

She scoffed, her eyes tearing up ever so slightly. "What can I say? Weasleys are worth protecting."  

The table was tense, Y/N avoiding every attempt Charlie made at eye contact. The twins were suspiciously watching the pair, wondering what exactly was going on. Ginny had surprisingly not told everyone, contrary to Y/N’s belief. Mrs. Weasley tried to make conversation, but she only made the situation worse. “So Charlie, whatever happened to that girl of yours? The one you were sneaking off to see.” 

Y/N looked up from her plate, staring at Charlie. He sighed, taking a sip of water. “She’s busy Mum.” 

Mrs.Weasley nodded, turning her attention to Y/N. “And you dear? How has work been? I hope Kinglsey isn’t giving you too hard of a time.” 

“Work’s been fantastic, thank you Mrs.Weasley. I actually…” She took a deep breath, grinning from ear to ear. “I just got promoted to team lead.” 

The table erupted into well wishes and congratulations. Mrs.Weasley smiled. “That is wonderful dear. You must be the youngest yet.” 

She nodded, giving a pointed look to Harry. “Besides this one, yes.” 

Charlie cleared his throat. “Congratulations, Williams.” 

The table quieted, and Y/N smiled gratefully, daring to make eye contact with him. “Thank you.” 

Ginny coughed, obviously trying to get her attention, but Y/N couldn’t be bothered to break eye contact with him. His eyes were dangerous, she’d determined, and there was a spark in them that was not there earlier. Butterflies erupted in her stomach, and she shook her head slightly. 

He was about to do something neither of them could take back, she knew it. 

She also couldn’t find it in her to care.

Charlie stood, his seat scrapping against the floor. His parents’s eyebrows furrowed. Mr.Weasley spoke first. “Are you alright son?” 

Charlie nodded, still looking at Y/N. “I’m perfect. I-” He smiled. “I have something to say.” 

Mrs. Weasley smiled knowingly. “Spit it out dear.” 

Y/N held her breath, nodding encouragingly. A second wind overtook him, and he stood strong. “I’m in love-” 

Mrs. Weasley grinned. “That’s wonderful dear!” 

Fred and George teased. “Lucky girl, that one.” 

Y/N tried to control her blush. Charlie smiled. “I’m in love with Williams.” 

She looked around the table, trying to gage reactions based off their expressions. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked positively shocked, and Fred and George… Her eyes widened. They didn’t look shocked in the slightest. Charlie continued. “I don’t want to upset you two, but we-” 

George laughed. “Why would we be upset?” 

Fred nodded. “We’ve known for months.” 

Mrs. Weasley scoffed. “Months? Charlie Weasley, you kept this sweet girl a secret-” 

“That’s actually my fault Mrs.Weasley.” Y/N interjected. “I- I didn’t want to upset the twins.” They pulled faces, rolling their eyes. “Why would we be upset? If anything, we’d be upset at Charlie for corrupting sweet little Y/N/N.” 

Y/N shoved them. “Shut it, both of you.” 

Charlie smiled, sitting back down. “Well I guess that’s settled then.” Y/N smiled back, mouthing the words he so longed to hear. ‘I love you.’ 

Mrs. Weasley sighed, picking at food. “Shall I be expecting more grandchildren anytime soon?” 

Y/N choked on her drink, clutching her chest. Charlie’s eyes widened, cheeks bright red. “Mum!” 

“I’m only asking.” Mrs. Weasley held her hands up in surrender. “Victorie has been so lonely.” 

Charlie tilted his head. “We’re not even married yet, Mum.” He looked over at Y/N, winking. “But that can be arranged.” 

It was Y/N’s turn to scoff. “Charlie Weasley, absolutely not.” 

He stuck his lower lip out, pouting. “What-” 

“Ask me in a year, not before then or after.” She nodded resolutely, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice, ignoring the looks from her friends. 

Charlie nodded, looking much too happy. “Yes ma’am.”

taglist: @beebeechaos

[apparentlytheproblem]

cuddles with a needy fred weasley

-🍄

c â l i n e t

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- fred weasley

a/n: caline means to embrace, and it sounded fitting. latley i feel like i need a hug right now but its going to be allright. this was inspired by something happened in a dream with love, tiya

requested- yes

warnings- unexperienced writer, not thoroughly edited

Fred Weasley just adored picking the most obnoxious and utterly stupid topics to fight over. it was a love language, just a one you haven't uncoded yet but he was more than ready to wait. He just adored seeing you perplexed and infuriated with him, he just loved how all of your attention was put in to prove him wrong.

But this time it didn't play as to Freddy's hand. It usually was a small disagreement and it led to noting problematic.

You found yourself going out of the way to not look at him, touch him, or even being near him. You wanted to, you really did but you felt a heavy sense of hatred whenever he flashed that devilishly hansome smile of his. you ought to pour a bucket of chillies on him, lord.

it was'nt his intention that the fight to hit a spot, he just wanted to see that annoyed look that made him skip a beat. well, what not a better time to take the situation into his own hands.

Friday, last period where you had herbology with professor Sprout while he had a free. She had to pass the courtyard if she planned on leaving the class and that would be exactly where he would stand waiting.

You noticed him, you always notice him first. He had his robe on the grass, and his sleeves roled. he was supported by the bench and was manspread taking all the space.

But before you had the chance to get away he pulled you on your wrist, the movement caught you off balance and you found yourself on his lap.

"i'm sorry, i did'nt know you'd get angry darlin, it was just to see you annoyed"

"why do you always go out of the way to get me so upset?"

he couldn't answer that, atleast not to her face. they lived in ignorance and they woul'dnt thrive if they aknowledged their feelings.

"I am not sitting on your lap, did you miss the part where I'm mad at you?"

"you can sit on my lap and be mad at me my love."

he put his hands around her waist and brought her closer while taking her book bag and gently placing it on the floor.

"shutup and hold me"

[littlegreenteacup]

After All Masterlist

Summary: When she decided to get drinks at a friend's bar after an interesting bachelorette party one thing leads to another and she finds herself in quite the predicament with her bestfriend's older brother.

Series Word Count: TBD

Warnings: Typically responsible adults acting like drunk idiots, heavy drinking (mostly chapter one), Bill as a single dad, Fleur not being the best mom, VERRY quick marriage, complicated family issues, please don't hesitate to let me know if you find something that I've forgotten to add.

A/N: So, this is what happens when I submit a request for a character, apparently. I sent a request to someone for a Bill Weasley x reader fic, and as soon as I typed the words 'love at first sight for him' I started thinking about what might happen if it wasn't just love at first sight but that followed by poor decision making. Then I wondered about the marriage laws in the wizarding world, and because I can not conceive of a world where arranged marriages being as common as they probably would be given the information we've been given would not result in some interesting marriage laws - a la Vegas drive-through chapel style weddings in the expediency department and near impossible divorce laws because wizarding bureaucracy seeems somehow worse than non-magical bureaucracy - and this was born. Enjoy.

Chapter One

You meet the most interesting people at the bar. Sometimes its someone you'll never see again, who lends a listening ear and offers you a different perspective on life, other times its someone who will make you laugh at the sheer absurdity of everything, and still other times its someone who comes into your life and changes everything you thought you knew about love and what it means to find home in someone else.

Chapter Two

Waking up with a stranger in your arms is odd to say the least. When that strange feels like home? It’s hard to let go.

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

[mastermindmiko]

Gatherings at the Burrow (Ron edition)

Pairing: Ron Weasley + Reader Warnings: none, but lmk Word count: 4627 words Summary: Gatherings at the Burrow, through a series of events always lead to a happy couple forming, this time it's Ron's turn.

I'm going to make this a little series with each Weasley having a chapter with sort of the same overarching theme, I'm not going to set any deadlines, cause we all know I'm not good with that, but here is the first one!

Gatherings at the Burrow have never been anything short of brilliant, I've only ever gone there for three years, but each year seems to be better than the one before it.

"You really should visit more often, dear." Molly says, whilst giving me a hug as soon as I enter. I raise my voice, sure to make sure that a certain someone that is also present hears, "I would, If my stupid boss gave me some time off every once in a while!"

"Go complain about it to HR!" Percy yelled back from the kitchen. Molly leads me to the living room where the whole room is filled with excitement. I wave to everyone and then take a seat next to my closest friend in the room Ronald Weasley.

"I haven't heard from you in a while, I almost thought about visiting Percy at work just to see you." Ron says, pressing a kiss to my cheek as greeting. I smile at the gesture and replied, "Since when was two days ever considered a while."

"It is when you're my friend." Ron says with a cheeky grin. Harry waves from behind Ron, and I say, "It must be terrible working with him everyday."

"It is..." Harry agrees, "Especially when he only talks about you or the Chudly Canons."

I flush a deep shade of red and pretend to not notice the way Ron shoves Harry. The twins babble about their new inventions and how great the shop's been ever since they finally rebuilt after the war. The older Weasleys (Bill and Charlie, along with their father) bicker about how Bill can't give his child candy after seven at night. Ginny telling Fleur how excited she is about her first Quidditch game as the Chaser of the Holyhead Harpies next week.

Even with all the clatter and noise, it's still very comforting, even more so when Ron slips his arm around my back. Another person enters the room and Ginny runs excitedly to the door. I hear a load of giggles and at their recognizable sound, Ron removes his arm from around me.

Ron and Hermione got together as soon as the war ended. I only got to know them when I started working for Percy, especially since the twins wanted to know who 'Percy's new victim' was. They seemed so happy together but before their one year mark, they broke it off. It's been two years since, I can't help but wonder if they sometimes think it's a mistake.

I've never been one to meddle, but as Hermione sat across from us, next to Ginny and Fleur, I couldn't help but notice the way Ron was avoiding her eyes. He'd only gave her a half-assed wave when she entered the room.

With my heart (for some absurd reason) heavier, I sighed and went to the kitchen to get myself a drink. I stand up and Ron's hand wraps around my wrist. He asks, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go get a drink, want one?" I asked, and he shakes his more than half full cup at me with an appreciative smile. I turn to everybody in the room and shout, "Anyone want a drink?"

The room quiets before everyone starts telling me their drink orders, hectic as always, just the way I love it. I head to the kitchen and Percy's got his papers set out in front of him, working. I walk in, and say, "You can't be married to your work forever, you know."

"I'm aware..." He trails off, as he continues to read some paper, underlining certain aspects. He continues, "But until that day..."

He continues to work, not even sparing me a glance as I start filling up eight glasses with drinks, trying not to get in Molly's way while she's cooking. I say, "You can afford to not work, excessively for one day, you know."

"I'm aware of that too." Percy says, and I slide his drink across the counter to him. The noise alerts him and he reaches out to grab it before it slides off the edge. He opens his mouth, but I interrupt him, "You can't possibly be doubting my ability to make a drink for you after three years."

He presses his lips into a firm line, and nods his head in thanks. I've learned to pick up on his mannerisms over the years. I try one last time, "Percy, come on, everyone's waiting for you, and I really don't want to spend the night, thinking that you're here all alone, working."

"I'm hardly alone, I've got mom."

"Who's about to finish cooking and will light up your papers, if you don't spend time with your family." Molly threatens, and Percy's wise enough to start packing up his papers. I finish up the last of the drinks, and place a spell to send each of them to their respective owners.

"Are you sure you don't need any help, Molly?" I offer for the third time that night, careful not to call her Mrs. Weasley as to avoid getting scolded. "No, no, no, you go rest my dear, and you enjoy your time, I simply do not know how we spent all those years without you."

"Your youngest son is to blame for that." I say, blushing at Molly's kindness. Molly fumes, "I honestly do not know how you were with that boy in school not only for seven but for eight years, and he's never even talked to you, I know he regrets it, all those years he's wasted not being in love with you."

"He's not in love with me-"

"He is." Percy interrupts me, and I say, "He's still hung up on Hermione, that's for sure. Besides, he's expressed his feelings about dating his friend more than once with me..."

After Hermione and Ron broke up, it sort of shattered the dynamic for a bit. All the awkwardness hung in the air, and even if it's mostly faded by now, Ron always says how he'd never date a friend, and how he'd rather face Voldemort again than go through all of that again. Sometimes when he talks about it, I feel as though he is looking right through me, warning me even.

"Ron's always been a bit daft when it comes to matters like these, give him a bit." Percy says, and I roll my eyes, I'd be foolish to even allow myself a sliver of hope, especially since I couldn't care less about who Ron dates.

I head back into the living room and once again the only spot left is beside Ron, I sit back down next to him on the sofa. Percy enters the room and the twins shuffle aside to provide a place for him, and Fred sends me a wink while George wiggles his eyebrows between me and Ron.

I roll my eyes at their antics, and Ron says, "There's something I haven't told you."

I shift all of my focus to him, and gesture for him to keep talking. Ron explains, "You know how strict the ministry is about breaking Auror Protocol, even more so when you've just finished training- like me, and long story short, I broke protocol, and now I'm suspended for two weeks."

"Ron! Have you told your family about this?"

"No."

"What did you even break protocol for?" I ask, furiously. It's already nerve wrecking enough that he's an Auror, dealing with all these dark wizards constantly, and not just him, but Harry too. Ron says, "Harry was in trouble."

I sigh, knowing that there is no way I could scold him for that. I place my palm on his forearm and say, "You've still got to be careful, Ron."

"I know, I can't have anymore dark wizards harming anyone I care about." He says, and he looks at me, that look, that stupid stupid look with his stupid blue eyes. I feel the butterflies flutter in my stomach. I urge them to stop, these are dangerous feelings and I will not have them.

"You really should tell them, sooner rather than later too." I advise, and he nods. He continues to look intently into my eyes, if this wasn't Ron, I'd be sure that he was going to kiss me, but Ron wouldn't dare. He'd sooner kiss an enemy rather than a friend.

He clears his throat, looking away, and pulling away from my touch. The butterflies die, and they are replaced with a painful feeling in my chest. He leans down, elbows on his thighs. He says, "I hear you're moving."

"Yeah."

"With um Thomas?" Ron says, and it's at moments like these where I think that there's something more. I reply, "Dean? No, it's not like that with him."

"You aren't dating?" Ron says, looking at me, eyes wide. I swallow, "No, I would've told you if I was dating someone, and it's been like that with Dean anyways."

He nods, and gulps down a few sips of his drink. He straightens his back and asks, "When are you moving?"

"I'll be officially moved in by Saturday."

*** ⋆｡°✩***

"Thanks for helping me Dean."

He sets down the last of the boxes, and he wipes away a bit of sweat from his forehead. He smiles, tired but genuine. I add, "I really appreciate it."

"You know I love spending time with you, but why couldn't Weasley help you out?" Dean asks, and I turn around and start pulling out a few items from the box entitled kitchen. I act, "Percy? He's working yet again, could not get him away even with a-"

"No, Ron. I'm sure he'd be happy to help, after all he is in love with you." Dean explains, looking at me intently, I turn around to face him and sigh. I haven't told Dean about the many conversation I've had with Ron regarding this topic. Last he talked about it was during Bill's birthday party, less than a month ago.

"Congratulations Bill! You're not only old, but you're very old!" George lifts a glass and laughs. The laughter echoes around the table, as Bill shoves his younger brother. Bill replies, "In a blink of an eye, you'll be even older than I am."

George waves his hand dismissively, and sits down next to his future wife Angelina. He wraps an arm around her and gives her a kiss on her temple. I could only hope to be that in love with someone someday. I can imagine how wonderful it would be, the kisses, the stolen glances, the words of appreciation-

"It's manic if you ask me." Ron whispers in my ear over the loud music in the club. I turn to look at him faces so close that I can could the freckles on his cheeks. I ask, "What is?"

"Dating your friend." Ron says, and I sigh, getting ready for another monologue. He starts, "If they break up, not only would if effect them, but also the whole group, I mean, he'd lose her and maybe even Lee, not to mention, it would put Fred in an awkward spot, who to chose, and-"

"I think it's wonderful." I stop him, and he raises an inquisitive eyebrow, I start my own rant, "You wouldn't have to go through any of that first date awkwardness of not knowing what to say or what to do. You wouldn't worry about what to get them for gifts because you've already gotten them gifts your whole life. You'd feel comfortable around them and you'd feel like they're your best friend too. My favorite part of it is that when you get older, and have kids, and grandkids and all that, you'd have so many more stories to tell them about how much that person means to you even before you ever fell in love with them."

I take in a breath, looking at George and Angelina, Bill and Fleur, Luna and Ginny, hoping that someday I might have what they have. I turn to look at Ron whose been silent since I've finished talking, and I could feel the gears spinning in his head, and I could see his cheeks turn red. He says, "You didn't think of one last thing."

"What is it?"

"That if you lost them, it would hurt a million times more."

Dean says, trying to convince me of my hidden love for Ron, "Don't give me any of your bullshit, I'm the one person who knows you better than he does..."

He takes a step towards me and places a hand on my cheek. He bends down and presses a small peck to my lips. He whispers, cheeky, "And that's only because I've been inside you."

I gasp, and hit him arm playfully, he laughs, and I turn red. "And you love him too, and don't even try to object."

"We've been at this for seven years now, and the only times when you stop kissing me or more is when you're in love with someone. The first time, it was with Neville and now, it's with Ron. You can deny it all you want like I know you've been, but you're going to find out soon enough."

"I really hate you sometimes, you know." I huff, pursing my lips. He smiles, "You know you love me."

I break into a smile, and wrap my arms around him in a friendly hug. He reciprocates, and then presses a sweet kiss to my cheek. He sighs, "I've got to go meet up with Seamus."

"Okay, thanks again for helping." I say, and the doorbell interrupts us. I wasn't expecting anyone. I walk over to the door, and open it. Before the war ended, I would've never done such a thing, but now I can open the door to my home without worrying about being attacked.

Ron stands with his face flushed a bouquet of my favorite flowers. Dean picks up his bag from the ground, and that's when Ron notices him, his expression hardens immediately. Dean says goodbye to both Ron and I then walks out the door.

I don't mind Dean's flirts from behind Ron, as I roll my eyes, and pull Ron inside. I close the door behind us, pressing my back against it. A smile on my mouth, as I wait for Ron to say something. Ron asks, "Is that Thomas?"

"Yes, you've shared a dorm with him for seven years, I figured you'd know what he looks like by now." I joke, but my grin drops when Ron scoffs and lowers the bouquet. Ron asks, "What was he doing here?"

"He helped me move in." I explained. He frowns and says, "Magic couldn't help you with all those boxes?"

"Not in a muggle neighborhood, no." I say, and Ron folds his arms. The bouquet bunches up at the ends from the action. I tentatively take a step towards him and I question, "What are the flowers for?"

"And you didn't think to ask me for help?" Ron snaps, and his tone surprises me. I shrug my shoulders and say, "I thought you'd be busy, and I wouldn't want to bother you."

"But you'd bother Dean all you'd like."

"Why are you saying his name like that? You guys are friends." I say, appalled by his tone, spitting venom. Ron sets the flowers down on one of the random boxes that surround us, and spits, "If you didn't want to tell me about your personal life that's fine, but you didn't have to lie to me."

"I didn't lie to you about anything." I defend, getting heated up myself at all his accusations. He shouts, "And Thomas only came here to help you move."

"Yes!"

"I'm not an idiot, I know what's going on between the two of you." Ron says, and I sigh, exasperated, "Nothing is happening!

"Please! It's been happening since third year." Ron says, and I huff, "Yes, but it's stopped, for a while actually. And you don't get to do this! I don't owe you any information about my life that I don't want to share."

"My mistake, I actually thought we were friends."

"We are friends, but you don't get to accuse me of things that only you see, and even if I was dating him, why would it be any of your business?" I shout, and he opens his mouth to retort, but then shuts his mouth and the door of my new apartment right behind him.

*** ⋆｡°✩***

I still hadn't gotten over what happened with Ron by the time that I go into work on Monday. The first thing I notice is Mr. Weasley not standing beside me in the elevator. The second thing I notice is the lack of red hair on my way to my office. The third and most concerning thing is that Percy Weasley, the Percy Weasley has submitted an absence notice.

If Percy is not working that must mean that something awful has happened. I send a Patronus to Percy and hope that he sends a reply quickly, my worry has me waiting twenty minutes before I rush to my supervisor's office to ask her what happened.

I knock on her door, and wait for her sharp voice yell a sound of acknowledgement. I walk into her office and stand in the middle of the room with my heels digging into her thick fur carpet. I say, "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if you knew why Per- Mr. Weasley isn't here today."

"It was a surprise to me too, if I'm being honest." Her voice is harsh as she scribbles something down with her quill. She continues in a slow voice that has be just about ready to start yelling for her to get out with it, "Something about a family member in the hospital."

My heart lodges into my throat, and I think of all the horrible horrible possibilities as I excuse myself and nearly run to the apparition grounds to make it to St. Mungo's.

Molly's been getting really tired with her old age what if something happened to her, and Mr. Weasley too especially after Nagini attacked him a few years ago. What about Fred and George? They couldn't survive without each other! What about Bill? He's got a kid now!

Ron...what if something happened to Ron? Despite his stubborn attitude and insane jealousy, I don't know what I'd do without him. I haven't heard from him since the fight either. My fast paced walking turns into a full blown run, and as soon as I make it to the apparition grounds, I recklessly apparate without any regard for my safety.

What would I do if I didn't have to spend a decent amount of time writing him a letter everyday? What would I do if I had to spend a day without his incessant nagging and his irrational logic, and his gentleness and care, and his dumb smile.

St. Mungo's isn't as busy as it usually is. The receptionist tells me the ward that an unspecified Weasley is staying in, and I'm sure that I look insane, running like a mad woman to get to the proper room. I can feel my heart pumping in my ears as I see a sea of red hair. I see them one by one; Molly, Arthur, Percy, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George and-

"Ron!" I say, as I wrap my arms around him in a bone crushing hug. He's takes a step back from the sheer force of my hug, and encases me in his arms. I pull back and the words spill from my mouth, "I came as soon as I heard, I thought something happened to you."

"People should know that not all Weasleys are interchangeable, they should always mention who got hurt, I was so scared that something happened to Percy or Fred or Bill or-"

"It's Ginny who's hurt." Ron explains, and I feel stupid with the way I've been complaining when someone is hurt, and even more so when I feel everyone's teasing eyes on us. I ask, "What happened?"

"She fell off her broom in a match, and she would've been fine if she wasn't hit by a bludger too." He says and I scrunch up my face at the description. I just can't imagine what poor Ginny must be feeling right now. I ask, "What did the healer say?"

"That she's in stable condition, she's not awake at the moment, but none of the broken bones are that serious. She won't be playing for a while, but nothing is permanent, and she'll be okay." Ron says, and I nod my head. My relief along with worry take over my body.

I look into Ron's eyes, and lift my hand up to cup his cheek. I sigh, looking at him. Grateful that nothing's happened to him. The relief is too overwhelming that I believe I can't deny what I'm feeling any longer. He gives me that look, and he pulls me in by my waist.

Ron was right, it would hurt a million times more if I lost him. That's when his touch felt like fire, and I could feel my throat close up. I can't believe I let this happen. I fell for him, for this moron standing in front of me right now. I let out a shaky breath, and pull away from his grasp.

My initial reaction is to run away and never look back, but instead, I go sit next to Percy, who has worry radiating off him. I provide support for the rest of the Weasley family, not sparing Ron one glance, hoping that the words don't tumble from my throat.

*** ⋆｡°✩***

The next Weasley gathering was in celebration of Christmas getting closer and closer as well as Ginny's fast and marvelous recovery. No one, not even the healer's expected her to bounce back that quickly, but Ginny is an amazing witch, it was foolish to not expect it.

I wasn't going though, I'd sent Ginny a gift, and an apology to Molly for not being able to make it. My obstacle at the current moment was trying to get Percy to leave the office to go to said gathering without me. I say, "I can't go, Percy."

"You say that but you still haven't provided a valid excuse." Percy says, and I shrug my shoulders, "I've got work."

"Did you forget that I'm the one who gives you that work? You don't have anything to finish!" Percy says, exasperated, and I sigh, "I just can't Percy."

"But if you-"

"I can't." I stop him sharply, I run a hand through my hair, hopelessly and whisper, "Not while he's there..."

"I'm sure Ron wouldn't mind it, you had a fight, all friends fight. It's normal." Percy reassures me, and I feel my eyes water as I begin to explain, "I fell for him, Percy, and even if he does like me back...You know how he feels about dating his friends, imagine how he would feel about dating me, who is a friend and even considered a member of his family."

"I'm sure everything will be alright." He says, before mumbling something quietly under his breath. He apparates to the Burrow and I organize my office before going back to my apartment for the weekend. I place the pens back into my case. The paper sin the drawers and I lock them up with enchantments and passwords.

I hated not being at the Burrow, not making everyone their drinks, not seeing Ginny after being very worried about her. I couldn't believe that I let my feelings influence my life this much, especially when it came to the Weasleys. They are some of the most important people in my life, and I couldn't-

"Percy told me you'd be here."

I gasp at the voice, and I spin to where it came from. Ron. The silence was thick between us. I cleared my throat, and turned around to continue sorting papers into stacks. I ask, "How's Ginny?"

"Good..." He trails off and the silence spreads over us once more. I ignore it this time and try to focus on getting the organization done as soon as I can to get back home. I'm not sure how long it is before I feel him wrap his arms around my middle and spin me around to face him.

"Mom was disappointed you didn't come." Ron said, and I hoped what he really meant was 'I was disappointed you didn't come.' I don't say a thing, and he pulls me closer to him. The butterflies threaten to swallow me whole. I push his arms away, and I say, "Ron, you should get going."

"Why?"

I try to push passed him but he cages me in between his arms and my desk. I look past him focusing on a picture hung in my office behind him. He adds, "Didn't you think I would notice the way you've been giving everyone the cold shoulder since you saw us at St. Mungo's?"

I stay silent, he was right. I didn't send any letters, and the replies that I've sent were dry to say the least. He says, "I'm sorry, if this is because of the fight, but-"

"It's not because of the fight." I reply, and look at him. I can see the desperation in his eyes, and it gets my heart pumping faster. Ron furrows his eyebrows, and questions, "What is it then?"

My eyes well up, and I look down at the ground. Ron lifts my chin up with his index finger. He says, "You can tell me anything, you know..."

I let out a bittersweet laugh, and sniffle, "Not this, you'll hate me for it."

"I could never hate you." He reassures me, but he doesn't know how little it does. I feel a tear fall, and I cover my face with both my palms. I sob, "I'm so sorry, Ron, I didn't mean to, I promise."

"I'm in love with you." I say, the weight off my shoulders and onto my chest as I await his response, tears falling faster than before. I hear him take in a shaky breath before wrapping his fingers around my wrists. He pulls down my palms away from my face. His movements are slow and they feel like torture, waiting for him to say something or do something.

He gazes at me, and I feel even worse than before, I can't lose him. I can feel another apology about to tumble from lips when he silences me. I'm completely irresponsive as I feel his lips against mine and the feeling of his palms on my cheeks spreading to the rest of my face. I pull away from his lips and ask, "But you said-"

"Everything I've ever said about not wanting to date a friend was a weak and desperate attempt of trying to get you to not fall for Dean." Ron says, and I question, "But when Hermione-"

"The reason why Hermione and I broke up was as I told you, I didn't like her anymore, but the other reason was because my older brother's secretary had it out for me and my heart, and I couldn't spend another moment away from her. I didn't want to rub it in Hermione's face, but I should've handled it better than that."

"You're acting very mature right now." I say, beginning to light up, and Ron chuckles, "Bill had a talk with me after you left St. Mungo's, I've been waiting for the right time to talk to you about it."

"Remind me to thank Bill."

[amethystandemma]

“Times Are Changing”

Angst! Angst! Angst!

FrostValley on Wattpad requested a Glasswood one-shot, and y’all voted for it to be angsty. So, here it is.

Tagging @rypnami and @butternutt613

Word count: 2,600+

Comments and reblogs are appreciated

“That match was brilliant!” shouted Radiant Glasspetal.

She and Oliver Wood made their way down the purple-carpeted stairs of the stadium, walking slowly through the crowd of Quidditch fans. Ireland had just won the Quidditch World Cup in an incredibly tense match against Bulgaria and the excitement in the air was getting to everyone.

As the couple walked along the dirt path with the sea of people, leprechauns danced above their heads, cackling and waving the lanterns illuminating the area. Trying to see everything, Radiant’s head constantly swiveled from side to side, her red ponytail smacking any and all nearby objects.

“Aye.” Oliver ducked to avoid his girlfriend’s whip-like hair. “Pure dead brilliant.”

As they moved, the duo talked non-stop about the match they had just witnessed; Oliver consistently bringing up how skilled both Keepers were and Radiant emphasizing how flawlessly the Irish Chasers worked together. 

Troy, Mullet, and Moran, Ireland’s Chasers, passed the Quaffle from one another like a well-oiled machine during the match. The trio scored point after point as if it was absolutely nothing. They gave Radiant so many ideas that she had to try with Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell, her fellow Gryffindor Chasers.

Radiant and Oliver were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn’t notice a figure struggling to get to them until she was right there.

“All I’m saying is that we have a lot to – ah!” Radiant was cut off mid sentence by someone wrapping arms around her neck in a hug. She got a mouthful of brown curls as she tried to speak. “Hadlee, I was in the middle of a conversation!”

Hadlee Euphoric, a Hufflepuff sixth year, pulled away from Radiant with a small grin. While some Quidditch fans, like Oliver and Radiant, simply wore sweaters or hats supporting the Ireland team, there were others like Hadlee who went a little farther. Her normally tan face was painted a dark evergreen, making the girl look like some sort of strange nymph. 

“Ced and I are having a campfire,” said Hadlee. Her silver eyes glistened in the torchlight of the leprechauns, making her look even more inhuman than she already did. “You want to come?”

Even though it was incredibly late, Radiant didn’t feel at all tired. She imagined she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep even if she went to bed right at that moment, and guessed Oliver felt the same based on how vigorously he was speaking before. 

“I’m fine with it.” answered Radiant.

“So’m I,” Oliver added. “Lead the way.”

As Hadlee led the two through the large crowd of people, Radiant would catch bits and pieces of conversations from the groups around them. Some talked about the skills of the players, others mentioned Viktor Krum’s nosebleed, but almost everyone was talking about Quidditch. 

As the three brushed through the mob of Quidditch fans, Radiant caught the fragments of a conversation that she didn’t quite understand.

“–strike at three.”

Something about the way the three words were spoken sent a chill down her spine. Radiant craned her neck to look around the crowd and find the speaker, but it was just no use. There were just too many people and too many voices.

The rational part of her brain told her that she was fine. She didn’t catch the full conversation and making baseless assumptions based on three words was a waste of time. 

A few minutes later, they arrived at the Diggory family’s tent. Cedric Diggory, another sixth year Hufflepuff, sat outside of the tent in a lawn chair facing a small bonfire. He got to his feet, waving at Radiant and Oliver with a large smile on his face. On one of his cheeks was a green shamrock the same color as Hadlee’s painted face.

“Wood. Glasspetal,” he greeted. “Glad you could come.”

The lingering thoughts Radiant had about the conversation she overheard melted away as soon as her eyes landed on the mug of hot chocolate in his hands. It looked and smelled absolutely delicious. 

“You’re welcome to have some,” Hadlee said, seeing Radiant’s gaze. 

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Oliver chuckled as Radiant walked to the canister containing the drink before turning to Cedric. “I’m surprised Hadlee was able to find us.” 

“Well, the thing about Hufflepuffs” – he took a sip of hot chocolate – “is that we are very good finders.”

“You’re also very good at losing Quidditch matches.”

“Shut up.”

As the four sat by the campfire they continued the conversation about the Quidditch match. The cheering of Ireland fans never ceased, even after the midnight hour.

The warmth coming from the fire and the gentle pressure of Oliver’s head on her legs filled Radiant with bliss. Her fingers ran through his short brown hair over and over again.

Radiant didn’t remember falling asleep. All she knew was that, very suddenly, Oliver was shaking her awake.

“Get up! Radiant, come on!”

Radiant sat up quickly, banging her forehead against his.

“Sorry.” she apologized groggily.

As she rubbed her forehead, she was startled by the change in noises around the campsite. Rather than drunken singing, she heard screams and the sound of people running. Something was very, very wrong.

With no explanation, Oliver grabbed her wrist and started to run. The first few paces, Radiant stumbled and tripped before finding her footing. She looked down at the wrist that held her own, squinting at his watch.

3:07.

Strike at three.

“You need to get to the woods,” said Oliver. “Hide.”

“Surely you jest!” Radiant planted her feet on the dirt and pulled him back, bringing them face to face. “I’m not leaving you.”

Oliver began to protest. “Radiant–”

“This isn’t up for discussion,” Radiant snapped. She drew her elm wand out from one of her jean pockets. “Come on.”

Whether it was the look of determination on her face or the lack of time needed to argue, Oliver drew out his olive wand without a word of protest. 

With a tight grip on his hand, Radiant started to run against the stream of screaming people. They were all fleeing from something, a thing that made loud bangs, but what it was she didn’t know.

Drunken yells, loud jeering, and roars of laughter were drifting towards them; before a burst of strong green light clearly illuminated the scene. 

A large number of wizards, their wands pointing straight up, were slowly moving in a tightly packed formation across the field. Their heads were covered by hoods and faces hidden behind masks. High above them, floating about sixty feet in the midair, were four struggling figures moving in extremely unnatural and distorted ways. 

Radiant froze, her mouth open wide in horror, as she realized two of the figures were children. One of the kids, a little girl, made eye contact with her, tears and snot streaming down her face.

Seeing the fear in her eyes is what broke Radiant out of her stunned stupor. It filled her with rage.

“Diffindo!” Radiant yelled, right as Oliver shouted “Bombarda!”

Her severing charm hit a few of the figures while his blasting spell hit one, sending them flying backwards in the air.

“We’re going to help the Ministry!” Radiant heard her Uncle, Arthur Weasley, yell behind her. “You lot — get into the woods, and stick together. I’ll come and fetch you when we’ve sorted this out!”

Three of her cousins: Bill, Charlie, and Percy Weasley sprinted up to her and Oliver, their wands out and sleeves rolled up. A few moments later, her Uncle Arthur joined them. All four of the Weasley men had matching looks of disgust and anger on their faces.

“We need to get through to the center!” Bill yelled. 

“No shite!” Radiant shouted. “Protego!”

The semi-transparent shield charm deflected a burst of red energy right before it hit the group. Oliver, Bill, Charlie, Percy, and Arthur threw up their own as multiple blasts started to fall on them like rain.

“We can’t do anything that might end up hurting the muggles!” called out Arthur, his voice strained and barely audible against all the roar of the spells hitting the group.

Other Ministry of Magic wizards joined the six, trying to combat the large crowd, but there were simply too many. They were largely outnumbered.

Radiant’s grip on Oliver’s hand tightened as she fought against hex after hex. She could feel her anxiety start to rise, but forced herself to keep moving. Every second counted. One misstep, and someone could die.

Okay, she really needed to stop thinking like that.

“Radiance, Charlie, and Wood could fly up and grab the muggles!” suggested Percy, jumping to the side to avoid the lime green blast of an Unforgivable Curse.

“Perce, we were roommates for seven years ya crabbit. I’m pretty sure you can call me Oliver at this point.” Oliver raised his wand. “Depulso!”

“And you know I hate it when you call me by my full name!” Radiant added.

“Just shut up and get your brooms! Protego!”

Considering she had no better plan, Radiant decided to listen to Percy. While under his protection, she raised her wand, not for a curse but for a summoning charm. “Accio broom!” she shouted.

The lanterns that had illuminated the campground had been put out amidst the chaos, but Radiant could make out a sleek black shape making its way over through the darkness very fast. Her Nimbus 2000 flew into her outstretched hand.

Moving quickly, Radiant mounted her broom. She glanced over at Oliver, who was on his own broom, and tried to ignore the sense of dread that was flooding over her.

“We’ll distract them for you!” hollard Arthur. “Just be ready to grab the muggles!”

Gripping onto her broom handle with one hand and wand with the other, Radiant kicked off the ground and quickly rose to the air in a streak of red and green.

As soon as she, Charlie, and Oliver were in the air, Arthur and Percy raised their wands to the sky while Bill kept up the shield charm. “Periculum!” she heard them shout.

Red sparks descended onto the dark wizards like muggle fireworks. The Imperius Curse that was holding the victims in the air was suddenly lifted, leaving the family of four floating in the air for a second before they started to free fall.

Radiant pointed her broom down and flew after one of the muggles, the little girl she first saw. She wrapped her left arm around her, hoisting her onto her shoulder in a fireman’s carry before pulling up on the handle. Right before they were going to crash, the Nimbus 2000 arched up above the ground and back into the sky.

Moving slowly and gently, Radiant adjusted the young girl so she was sitting on the broom as well. Tears and snot were still going down her round face.

“It’s going to be okay,” said Radiant in a soothing voice. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Crucio!”

Radiant yanked her broom to the side, narrowly missing the curse directed at her. It seemed like the dark wizards had recovered from the chaos enough to start shooting things again.

“Hold on tight!”

She slipped her wand into her back pocket so she could hold onto the girl with both hands before quickly guiding the broom away. Blasts of green and red alike followed her across the sky. She couldn’t see anything with all the smoke around them, so she could only hope it was the same for everyone below her.

Charlie flew past her, holding the two unconscious muggle adults with each arm. Aside from being knocked out, they looked fine. As did Charlie, except for the rip in his shirt.

“Come on, we need to get them somewhere safe,” he said.

Weaving past curses and hexes, Charlie led Radiant away from the smoke and down in a nearby clearing where three figures sat. Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley looked up as the two landed, gawping at the muggles. 

“Watch them until me, Dad, Bill, or Perce come back for you and stay here,” Charlie ordered.

Radiant picked up the little girl and handed her shaking body over to Fred.

“Don’t worry,” she said to her. “Come morning, you won’t remember any of this.”

She kicked off the ground again, flying back to the area where the dark wizards were beforehand to look for Oliver.

Radiant heard him cry out in pain before she saw him.

The smouldering mess that used to be his broom burned like kindling in a campfire. A few feet away from the broom was Oliver, on the ground in front of the little boy, getting hit with the Cruciatus Curse.

A similar rage to seeing the tortured girl filled Radiant’s body, and she saw red.

“BOMBARDA!” Radiant screamed.

The explosion went off in the middle of where the dark wizards stood, sending both them and dirt flying everywhere. She jumped off of her broom, landing in front of her boyfriend with her wand raised.

“EXPELLIARMUS! CONFRINGO! FLIPENDO! INCENDIO!”

Radiant casted wave after wave of spell with such force and veracity she never had before. She knew that if she wanted to, she would be able to cast an Unforgivable Curse in that very moment.

“ACCIO! DESCENDO! GLACIUS! DIFFINDO-”

“Radiant, stop!”

Arthur Weasley rushed towards his niece, holding his own wand in the air in surrender when she pointed hers at him. 

“Radiant, they’ve fallen. They aren’t hurting him anymore.”

All of the anger she felt rushed out of her body like a deflated balloon. All ten of the dark wizards that had been there were on the ground with injuries she caused. A few of them were even moaning out in pain.

“Oh Merlin.” gasped Radiant. “What have I done?”

“Radiant?”

She looked down at the ground at Oliver before kneeling down beside him. He raised his hand, weakly pressing it against her cheek.

“Bloody hell,” he rasped. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Radiant placed her hand over his bloodied one, pressing it closer to her face. She tried to even her breathing by taking deep breaths through her nose.

“You could never get on my bad side. You’re a Keeper.” said Radiant.

“Ha ha. I haven’t heard that before.”

She snorted and moved his arm around her shoulder, helping him stand up; her other arm moving to his waist.

Supporting each other, Radiant and Oliver stumbled over to Bill and Percy with Arthur. Bill had a cut on his arm that was bleeding profusely and Percy was sporting a bleeding nose.

The sound of loud gasping and cries brought their movement to a halt. Loud popping filled the clearing seconds after, a sign that people were Disapparating.

Arthur Weasley looked behind the group up at the sky, his eyes wide, before Disapparating himself.

Turning, Radiant looked to the place in the sky where Arthur was looking. She let out a gasp herself.

High above the trees of the nearby forest was a massive skull, made of what looked like millions of green stars, with a serpent going out of its mouth like a tongue. As they watched, it went higher and higher. 

All of the clearing erupted in screams. Radiant didn’t fully understand why, as it was just a skull, but she figured it was because of the sudden appearance of it. 

It wasn’t until she saw Bill’s bloodless face that she realized that wasn’t the reasoning.

“What is it?” Oliver asked.

Bill shook his head.

“You were all too young,” he muttered. “None of you would remember it–”

“Just tell us!” Radiant snapped.

Her own tone surprised her, as Bill was her favorite cousin, but she was tired and irritated with being in the dark about things.

“It’s Dark Mark.” Percy’s voice was barely audible. “You-Know-Who’s sign. I read about it in the Ministry.”

The four were silent. The only noise came from the screaming and panicked cries of the witches and wizards around them.

It was a few moments before Oliver broke the silence, his voice soft.

“What does it mean?” 

Silence. 

Then, Bill spoke. “It means things are going to be changing around here.” 

__________

Wattpad | Ao3

[draqo-pctter]

i remember everything // a charlie weasley/draco malfoy drabble

Draco remembers that cottage in the woods, and how pretty it looked when the leaves changed. Somewhere in the Northern tip of Scotland, covered in ivy and the memory of them.

words; 348

tags; angst, nostalgia, memories

click here to read on ao3 / click here to read on twitter

[blueironywrites]

Title: Raindrops (M)

Summary: Charlie says goodbye.

Fandom: Harry Potter

Word count: c.11,800

Lost love, rainy beaches, tear jerker

+ + +

As I got thinking about why Charlie never ended up with anyone, I got thinking: what if he did find his one great love but he lost it?

This story explores that.

[annonymouslyblonde]

Ripped Apart

War always comes at a price. Charlie Wealsey discovers just what the Second Wizarding War will cost him. His family.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Agreee's Library

Emoji Key: SFW 🤍 | NSFW ❤️ | Angst 🖤 | Fluff 🩷

feat. Wizarding World, MCU, Stranger Things, & more!

Wizarding World

George Weasley

A Weekend At The Weasley's ❤️🩷

The No-Dating Rule ❤️🩷

A Christmas Gift 🖤🤍

'A Madness Most Discreet' Series (part 1) ❤️🖤

Bill Weasley

'Magic Lessons' Series (part 1, part 2, part 3) ❤️🖤

Charlie Weasley

'Best Friends Brother' Series (part one, part two) ❤️🩷

1000 Secrets 🤍🖤

Draco Malfoy

Bad Santa ❤️🖤🩷

Flutterby Baby ❤️🖤🩷

Sirius Black

'Hit Me Where It Hurts The Most' Series (part one, part two, part three, part four) ❤️🖤

The Black Dog and His Bluebird ❤️🖤🩷

Regulus Black

Barty Crouch Jr.

What's My Name? ❤️🖤

1000 secret kisses ❤️🩷

I Wanna Be Yours ❤️🖤🩷

James Potter

Work For It ❤️

Remus Lupin

1000 Inked Scars ❤️🖤🩷

Wolfstar

Lockjaw ❤️

Jegulus

Seducing A Scrooge ❤️🩷

Rosekiller

What Is This Feeling? LOATHING 🖤🤍🩷

Drarry

Freefall (roommates!au) ❤️🖤

MCU

Steve Rogers

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart ❤️🖤

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington

Blue Christmas ❤️🖤🩷

1000 Glances 🩷

Eddie Munson

Christmas Karaoke ❤️🩷

The Tortured Fangirl's Department Series

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart (Steve Rogers x assassin!reader) ❤️🖤

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys (Paul Lahote x human!reader) [part one, part two] ❤️🖤

How Did It End? (Gale Dekarios x fem!Tav) 🖤🤍

Misc.

Thanksgiving In Baldur's Gate (Gale Dekarios x Tav) 🩷🤍

Published Work

The Raith Brothers Trilogy

Memento Amore

Memento te Aurum

Memento Sentire - Coming Soon!

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[marauder-misprint]

Hi! I have no idea how to request correctly butI really liked how you write fred and I was wondering if I can maybe request you doing qn insecure!fred x reader where they are dating and molly wants reader to come over but fred knowing they are poor doesnt want the reader to see. When he tells her and she agrees to come over and meets his familyi(the ones she hasnt met yet) she slips up on something stupid like saying a twosided comment about their house and molly takes it the bad way, disliking reader and pressuring fred into breaking up with her but reader gets defensive and they fight, the weasley siblings on readers side and in the end molly starts to tolerate you. You absolutely don't have to but thx anyways!!

Thank you for the request! Although, I think you are referring to a Fred fic I reblogged so I can’t take credit for that 😅 ANYWAYS, I hope you like this - my first Hogwarts Era (Trio Era? Golden Era? Lightning Era?) 

Peculiar

insecure!Fred x reader

3.4k words

cw: angst, fluff, y/n

One thing Fred liked about Hogwarts was his family’s financial situation didn’t matter. Everyone wore the same uniform, even if his were hand-me-downs from Percy, and his family always managed to pull through to get the supplies they needed, which meant his broom wasn’t the newest but it did the job. He knew he couldn’t pretend his family had galleons upon galleons in their vault like other families. He knew he couldn’t spoil his new girlfriend in all the ways he wanted to, and by goodness, did he wish he could spoil you.

Still, things were going good. You didn’t discuss your family’s financial situation much, just enough for him to know you were from a more well-off family. You were only teenagers after all. You enjoyed spending time with each other and all of the other things that came with teenage romances, including the moments where you both that maybe it could be more than just a teenage romance. 

Things were good. Until a letter from Molly arrived. 

Errol near crashed into the Gryffindor table at breakfast in his typical fashion.

“INCOMING!” Lee hollered as the aging bird landed among the plate and globals, sending food and drink everywhere. 

“Oh, Errol,” George groaned as he untied the letter at his foot. “Oi, Freddie, it’s for you.”

Fred took the letter and quickly read it, a frown appearing on his face the further down he got in the letter. George picked it up right away, despite barely being able to see it in his peripheral vision as he tended to the owl. 

“What’s it?” he asked. 

“Mum wants me to invite Y/N to the Burrow over the summer.” His frown was paired with bunched brows and a pale face. 

Katie clapped Fred on his back enthusiastically. 

“That’s good, yeah? She’ll get to experience that Weasley hospitality Molly’s known for!”

Fred just shook his head, rereading the letter. It was bad enough that he couldn’t spoil you at school, but what would you think if you saw his home, how they lived. It wasn’t as bad as some people teased, but it certainly was no Malfoy Manor or Diggory Estate. 

“Mate, am I getting the invite this year?” Lee asked George, throwing an arm around his shoulder and shaking him. 

“Can’t. Mum’s already planning for Harry and Hermione. Plus Bill, Charlie and Percy will be home too. I think Perce is having Penelope over too? It’s going to be a full house.”

Lee swore. “Losing to your girlfriend, Fred. It hurts,” he said teasingly. 

Fred crumpled the letter and shoved it into his pocket. He didn’t say anything for the rest of breakfast. 

“Okay, why the long face? Don’t you want Y/N to come?” George asked Fred as they made their way to their first lesson of the day. 

“I… It’s the Burrow. What if she expects more? Better?”

George just shrugged and then gave his twin a knowing look. “So we don’t wipe our arses with galleons. It don’t matter that much. You know Mum just wants to meet her.”

“Mum really wants to meet her.” Fred stopped walking. “Do you know who told ‘er? I hadn’t mentioned Y/N in any of my letters yet.”

“Probably Ginny,” George laughed. 

“What’d my favorite Weasley do?” you asked as you caught up with the boys, a grin on your face. 

“Aw, I thought I was your favorite,” George whined with a faux-pout. 

“Ginerva is telling Mum all my secrets,” Fred said before planting a kiss on the side of your forehead. You didn’t need to know that you were one of those secrets. 

The boys stopped discussing the letter for the time being. George at least had the tact to talk to Fred about his worries about you at a later time. 

You weren’t oblivious to Fred’s palpable worry during the day. He wasn’t normally this quiet or fidgety. Maybe there were days when he was more restless than usual, but today, he kept checking the clock, nervously cracking his knuckles and crumpling something in his pocket. 

One glance at George told him that you were picking up that something was off.

“Don’t worry ‘bout, love. I’ll get ‘im sorted out for you,” George whispered to you after classes before hurrying to catch up with his brother who had already started making his way to Gryffindor Tower.

You watched them both with a concerned frown, but eventually decided not to think about it too much. Did you wish Fred would talk to you about whatever was eating his mind? Yes. But if George was convinced he could get his brother out of the funk, it couldn’t be too bad. 

“Do you think she’ll dump your sorry arse when she sees home?” George asked once they were far enough away. 

Fred didn’t answer. His brain said ‘maybe’ but he couldn’t bring himself to voice it.

George laughed in disbelief. “She wouldn’t! Bloody hell, why’d you think that?”

“You know she comes from… more,” Fred said quietly, the words feeling uncomfortable in his mouth. You weren’t rich rich, but still, it was more than the Weasleys. 

“Hate to break it to you, but I don’t think she’s a gold digger.” George clamped a hand on Fred’s shoulder as they stood outside the Fat Lady’s portrait. “If she was, don’t you think she’d be with Flint or Pinch-Smedley, or Oggspire? Don’t be dense.” His voice had taken a firmer tone.

Don’t be dense, Fred repeated in his mind as he sat in the common room waiting for dinner. Don’t be dense. It’d be fine. It had to be. Was it a tad embarrassing? Sometimes, but at least they didn’t all sleep in one room like Malfoy had once said. 

Fred called you over to sit with him at dinner and by the way he smiled at you as you sat down next to him, you knew George had worked some magic. Fred was back to being Fred. He leaned in as you filled up your plate.

“So, I was wondering if you’d like to visit the Burrow this summer. Mum’s given permission. She’d love to meet you,” he said in a hushed voice. 

You had heard stories about summers at the Burrow. You knew it was home to more than the Weasleys when school was out; Harry, Hermione, Lee, Angelina, Katie, among others, had all been. There were legends of 3-on-3 quidditch matches and Molly’s delectable meals. And you had just been invited. Your face lit up with the brightest smile Fred had seen since the day he asked you out. 

“Yeah, Fred, I’d love to!” You leaned forward so you could see George on Fred’s other side. “Hear that, George? I’m going to see the Burrow!” 

---

Your mother dropped you off at the nearest muggle village to the Burrow. She waited with you until Fred came to meet you. 

“Your parents will be there the whole time?” she asked him when he arrived.

“Yes, ma’am. Mum is dying to meet her,” he said politely.

You, however, rolled your eyes. You bid your mother goodbye and went with Fred.

“I assured her that your parents would be around. Told her you guys have friends over every summer,” you ranted to him as you walked. “That your mum loves to host and meet all your friends. I mean, how else would she get to meet everyone that Ginny talks about in her letters home?”

Fred laughed. Of course you knew it was Ginny who wrote home the most.

He cautiously watched your expression as the Burrow came into view. They had passed the barn and chicken coop, along with several animals. You were speechless as you looked the house up and down. His worry about what you would think melted away when he saw the pure awe on your face. 

“What a peculiar home!” you exclaimed as you reached the sign that said ‘The Burrow’. “The magic-”

“Peculiar?” Molly gasped from the kitchen. 

You hadn’t noticed her yet, still taking in everything that was the Burrow. It’s many stories with rooms jutting out every which way that gave it a very crooked and semi-lopsided appearance. Just from the outside, it was very different from any house you had ever seen, wizarding or muggle. 

You gave Fred a concerned sideways glance. His mother did not sound happy with your comment. He gave you a soft yet reassuring smile. This was his home after all and you had agreed to come stay and meet his family, and so far, you were taking it well.

“You’re here!” Ginny squealed as she burst out the front door and pulled you into a hug. “I can’t wait to show you around!” 

“I can show Y/N around just fine, Ginny,” Fred said, an easier smile coming to his face. 

You just laughed, taking Ginny’s hand once she released you. The three of you entered into the house and walked right into the surprisingly harsh gaze of Molly. 

“Mum,” Fred said warily. “This is Y/N.” 

“Pleasure to meet you,” you said kindly. “You have a-”

“Peculiar home, as you said outside,” Molly cut you off. 

You took a step backwards, stepping on Fred’s foot. He sucked a breath in, loud enough for you to hear. 

“Dinner’s at seven. Keep doors open,” she added shortly before turning back into the kitchen. 

You tried to give Fred a questioning look but he was staring after his mother.

“Come with me. I’ll show you my room! It’s where you, me and ‘Mione will be sleeping. Like one big slumber party!” Ginny said, grabbing your arm again and pulling you toward the twisting stairs. 

Once you and Ginny were gone, Fred followed his mother into the kitchen.

“Mum?” he asked cautiously. 

In his mind, he wanted to ask ‘what the bloody hell was that? You gave me, George and Ron an easier time when we stole Dad’s car to rescue Harry.’ He didn’t, but he wanted to. And he was glad he didn’t when Molly spun around, glaring and pointing a wooden spoon at him.

“Do. Not.” Her voice was sharp. “That girl… The gall… Insulting us before she even…” She turned back to the pot she was stirring and was more muttering to herself than talking to Fred. “Expects us to feed and care for her… Peculiar… I’ll show her peculiar…” 

The rest of the day and the next two were filled with never-ending fun, except for meals when Molly sat down and glared at you from across the table. You spent most of your time with Fred and George, as you had expected to, but you helped with chores around the house and chatted with just about everyone. Percy and Penelope were more quiet than the rest, often opting to read or discuss their jobs quietly when they returned from them. You tried not to take it personally that Molly seemed to like her much more than you. 

Then you got the delight to meet Bill and be properly introduced to Charlie. The latter had been at Hogwarts when you started but it wasn’t like you ever really interacted. The eldest of the Weasley children were incredible story-tellers and just as hilarious as the rest of them. The way Charlie talked about his work with dragons almost made you wish you had taken Care of Magical Creatures and Bill’s stories about Egypt and Gringotts were overall impressive. 

The fourth day of your stay is when you heard how unwelcome you apparently were at the Burrow. Or, at least, according to Molly. 

The living room was alive with various games being played by the siblings and guests. Exploding snap, wizards’ chess, gobstones, you name it. It was loud and warm and fun. Fred noticed your glass was empty and went to the kitchen to refill it for you. 

“Ever the gentleman,” you laughed as he disappeared through the door.

“Fred, how dare you bring a girl like that into this house!” Molly’s voice could be heard through the walls, sending a sudden hush through the room. 

You blinked, looking from George to Ron to Hermione. 

“I thought your family didn’t care about status?” you asked, confusion obvious on your face. 

The Weasley were purebloods. You were a halfblood but Hermione was fully muggleborn and Molly didn’t seem to have a problem with her. Maybe her issue was with wizards and muggles mating? Certainly a new take on blood status… 

You could hear Fred and Molly arguing although significantly quieter than her first outburst. When he returned, his face was beet red and he had forgotten the glasses of water. 

“So, what was that?” Ron asked, breaking the tension.

Fred shook his head before forcing a smile. “Nothing. Just a miscommunication.” 

You knew it wasn’t nothing. For a prankster, Fred could be terrible at lying if something wasn’t sitting right with him. You and George tried to get more out of him to no avail. He wouldn’t discuss what he and their mum had argued about. You two knew it was about you, but Fred gave no details.

When Fred worried about bringing you to his home, he didn’t know that he was worrying about the wrong person. You loved the Burrow and he felt that that much was plain as day to see. But it wasn’t to Molly and Fred ended up telling George as much when he asked him again when they were alone in their room. 

“She wants me to break up with Y/N,” Fred whispered, his voice shaking from anger. “Said she’s too proud for the family. Too stuck up. That she’s rude.”

“But she’s not!”

“I know she’s not. I tried to tell her that. Explain what Y/N meant by ‘peculiar’ and that it’s a good thing. Mum wasn’t having it.”

And the next day, things got worse. Molly stopped trying to hide her distaste for you. She didn’t mutter her comments anymore, rather saying them with full conviction. You tried to stay out of her way and genuinely tried to keep your expression pleasant, but the constant bombardment of hurtful words was getting too much. You hit your breaking point at dinner.

“Can you pass the salt?” you asked no one in particular. It didn’t matter who passed it to you as long as someone did. 

“In this peculiar home, we use manners,” Molly snapped. “Fred, I told you, you need a girl with manners. She certainly doesn’t have any.”

Your expression twisted. 

“Would you rather I just reach over the entire table? Sorry I forgot ‘please,’” you replied, sounding harsher than you would normally speak to any adult, let alone your boyfriend’s mother. 

Molly scoffed. “You are no good for my Fred. You are lucky I don’t toss you out now. He can do so much better.” 

You stood up with so much force your chair scraped the floor, hitting the wall. 

“If that’s how you feel about me…” Your voice cracked. You could feel the heat rising to your face and your hands beginning to shake. Tears began to well behind your eyes, but you weren’t going to let Molly see you cry. “No need to toss me out. I’ll just leave now.” 

You turned and left the room before chaos broke out. You could hear Fred and George yelling. You could hear Arthur and Molly yelling. Ron, Hermione and Ginny joined in before you made it to the front door. 

When Fred had invited you to spend time with his family over the summer, you didn’t expect to be in their garden sobbing as you launched garden gnomes over the hedge. You could still hear the yelling inside the Burrow. You weren’t exactly sure what you did wrong, what you did to make Molly dislike you so much so quickly. Your wand laid on the ground off the side with a soft glow from the Lumos you had cast so you could sort of see what you were doing.

“Are you… de-gnoming our garden?” George asked, trying to hide the amusement in his voice as you launched another gnome. The yelling had quieted now, but you could still hear that heated words were being exchanged.

“One bit me…” you mumbled before sniffling again. 

One had bit you, but that wasn’t why you were crying and you knew that George knew that. Being bit, however, made you feel slightly better about the tears streaming down your face. 

“You know he’s not going to break up with you.”

You nodded. “What did I do?” You launched another gnome.

“You, erm, called the Burrow peculiar? I guess Mum didn’t like that…” He chuckled awkwardly.

When you gave a loud sniffle instead of laughing with him, he pulled you into a hug. You dropped the gnome you had in your hand.

“She’ll come ‘round. Fred’s in there. Ron’s there. Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Percy even. They are all trying to explain to Mum that you didn’t mean it like that. I mean, come on, you got golden boy Percy defending you.”

You gave him a weak smile as you pulled out of his hug. You picked up your wand and pointed it at the Burrow, although it didn’t do much to illuminate the building. 

“It is peculiar though! It’s amazing! Ne’er seen anything like it before. It’s so… distinctly Weasley in the best way possible!” 

George let out a loud laugh and soon enough you were giggling with him. He kept you company outside and kept you laughing until there were no more sniffles coming from you. Eventually, Fred came to collect you both. He led you upstairs to his and George’s room, but George stayed in the living room with the rest of the family. You could hear Molly grumbling to herself in the kitchen as you passed the door, but everyone else seemed to be far more cheerful gathered by the fire. 

You felt your heart jump to your throat when Fred closed the door behind him. You stood in the middle of room, trying to not feel awkward.

“Is this where you break up with me for accidentally insulting your mum?” you asked softly, looking at the ground. You knew George said he wouldn’t but the idea lingered in your mind.

“What are you talking about?” Fred breathed as he quickly moved to you and wrapped his arms around you tighter than George had. 

You couldn’t help it. You started crying again.

“Y/N, no. Not unless…” He pulled back to look you in the eyes. “Unless you want to?” There was so much hesitation and uncertainty in his voice. It broke your heart to hear him like that.

“No, I don’t want to. But your mum-”

“My mum still doesn’t know you meant it as a compliment.”

You rested your forehead on his shoulder. You took a deep breath to breathe in his scent. 

“She just needs to be ‘round you more, get to know you. Then she’ll love you like I do.”

Your eyes went wide against his shoulder. ‘Love you like I do.’ Had Fred just indirectly said he loved you? 

The way Fred stopped talking and stood more frigidly told you that he realized what he said after the words left his mouth. He was waiting for you to give him some kind of reaction. Was it too soon? 

After a moment, you lifted your head and you kissed him. You felt him relax underneath you. Of all your kisses, this was one of the most mild ones yet it was charged with so much emotion.

“I love you too,” you whispered as you broke the kiss.

He smiled at you before kissing you again. 

“You know, I was actually so nervous to bring you here.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Well, because it is a bit peculiar,” he teased. “No, really, I don’t talk about it much but we’re not… rolling in galleons per se. We make do. We get by. It’s just-”

“I don’t care about that, Fred,” you said, cutting him off before gently kissing his cheek. “It’s your home and your family and it’s all amazing. I’d rather be in a home filled with love and laughter than anything else.” 

“Once Mum comes to her senses, you won’t know what to do with all the love she can give,” Fred warned. 

“I can’t wait for that.”

Because I'm a petty bitch who hold grudges, I really see Molly not coming around until like Bill & Fleur's wedding or beyond, and Reader knows this so she just doesn't really visit the Burrow as much and Ginny is v upset that Reader isn't staying at the Burrow for the wedding and Reader is just like 'I'm not going to impose where I know I'm not wanted.'

[littlegreenteacup]

After All | Chapter Two

Summary: Waking up with a stranger in your arms is odd to say the least. When that strange feels like home? It's hard to let go.

Word Count: 2,422

Next Chapter

Warnings: Discussions of symptoms of PPD, Fleur leaving, Anxious thoughts, recovery from a werewolf attack, mentions of nightmares, probably mentions of PTSD - depending on how you look at it, a failed marriage, Bill being a single father, mention of Molly and Ginny not liking Fleur, and the sorry state of mental health care of any sort in the wizarding world, references to sex (possibly?). Please don't hesitate to let me know if I've forgotten something.

A/N: Not much dialogue in this one, just a few comments made in the background and a lot of Bill's thought process and some background.

“How much did they drink last night?” a man’s hushed voice whispered, concern evident in his tone.

“Fuck if I know, mate!” another, exasperated and distinctly Irish, voice responded, louder than (Y/N) would have liked, given the pounding in her skull.

“They were at your bar, Alex!” the first voice - almost certainly Charlie, though (Y/N) refused to open her eyes to confirm her suspicions - remarks, vague amusement now present as well. She heard what sounded like someone’s hands hitting their thighs in irritation, followed by a scoff closer to where the door to her room would be.

“Well, it doesn’t matter either way, Charlie,” definitely Charlie and Alex, she thought, burrowing her head further against the source of warmth she was laying half on top of. “We can come back later,” there was a pause, almost as if Alex was inspecting the situation more closely, “and we can bring them somethin’ to eat too,” another pause, this one shorter and interrupted by an aggravated sigh, “lord knows (Y/N) won’t have bothered ta pick up any groceries.”

There was a soft chuckle from Charlie, probably halfway across the living room by now, and something she didn’t quite catch was said before the soft click of her bedroom door, and the more distant one of her front door were heard in the distance. The man, probably - hopefully - the one she had met at the bar the night before, pulled her closer, wrapping her more fully in a warmth she was far too comfortable in to even try escaping from. Maybe she should have been more concerned about there being a stranger in her bed with her, but she felt safe, and warm and, oddly enough, like she belonged here wrapped in these arms - like two puzzle pieces designed to fit together - so she let herself be lulled back to sleep by the rhythmic rise and fall of the man’s breathing, and the wonderful rich warm scent of an oddly familiar cologne - cloves and leather, old parchment and the warm honied-milkness that she always associated with magic.

—

Bill had instinctively pulled the form of the woman next to him into his chest, pressing his nose into the top of her hair. It took him a minute, maybe a minute too long, to remember that there should not be a woman in his bed. Certainly not one so willing to curl into him as she - ‘(Y/N)’, Bill remembered, hazy memories of her introducing herself to him at the bar and the warmth he had felt around her floating quickly into his brain, and leaving just as quickly - had, the moment he had pulled her in; Fleur - long gone and moving on to a new relationship, a new life - had not been the sort to do so. But (Y/N) - even thinking her name made his heart pick up - was warm in his arms. Bill inhaled deeply, nose still pressed to her hair, and smiled sadly - sad at the realization that this would not be something he would likely experience again. She smelled of old books, and milky tea with honey. There was something else too, something that reminded him of the pears he and Charlie would put on their porridge in the mornings as children. Bill was sure that if he’d had a vile of Amortentia at that moment, it would smell just like this.

He was alerted to (Y/N) beginning to wake when she rolled over in her sleep, and burrowed her head under his chin, her nose pressed against his chest, and her eyes guarded against the warm late-morning sunlight streaming in through the sheer curtains of her bedroom - it had to be her bedroom, Bill thought absently, it was lacking the cold uniformity of a hotel room and it was nowhere he recognised as a room that could have belonged to him. For a moment, the unfamiliarity of his surroundings reminded him of the strangeness of this situation. Even when he and Fleur had been at their best - and they had had something, even if it hadn’t worked out - even when they had decided to have a child together - mistakenly thinking that a child might help to iron out the wrinkles in their relationship that were starting to make themselves known - Fleur had been to used to pushing everything and everyone away. She had kept everyone at arm's length - literally and figuratively - to keep herself from getting hurt. He couldn’t blame her for it either. Bill had certainly kept his own distance, becoming cold and harsh for a time after a fragile peace was found. It was no one's fault, really - or if it was it was both of theirs - but it had put a strain on their already crumbling marriage when things became difficult.

The attack by Greyback - one which had nearly ended his life and had left him scarred emotionally as well as physically - had sealed their fate, just not for the reasons his mother and Ginny had thought. Fleur hadn’t cared about his scars, or that he might have some lycanthropic tendencies - even joking that she would have to ask her mother for a good recipe for steak à l'Americaine - and for that, and for giving him Victoire, a part of him would always love her. No, what Fleur had cared about - what she had focused on and obsessed over until it made her sick with worry and unwilling to tell anyone about her feelings lest they judge her for it - was the very real possibility that the man she loved could be taken from her at the drop of a hat. It had been a reality check for her, one that she choked back and refused to acknowledge until it was too late.

For a while after the attack, things had seemed to be alright. Fleur had visited Bill at St. Mungos while he was recovering, she had helped him with his physical therapy, and sat with him when his nightmares woke him in the night, leaving him shaking and soaked with sweat. And then things got better - or seemed to anyway. The war ended, their families were safe without the constant threat of death and torture at every turn. But their joy and relief came and went all too soon, and as it did they were left broken. Strangers unsure of what to say to one another, made stranger still by the odd hours caring for a newborn required. Their conversations had become short, lacking any real depth when their most frequent topic of conversation was no longer one that they could fall back on. Actual communication was exchanged for clipped sentences stated with an unfeeling coolness regarding the care of their daughter. A daughter whom Fleur had been unable to force herself to care for the way she felt she should have - for which she berated herself constantly, not allowing Bill, or Molly or even her own mother to console her for the guilt she felt at not caring that she didn’t care. For perhaps the first time in her life, there was a person not immediately charmed by her. This little girl, who had her blond hair and Bill’s blue eyes, and who was so wholly dependent on her for everything, who demand her mother’s attention for nearly everything and never seemed pleased with anything, or so Fleur insisted, finding it easier to blame her detachment on Victoire then to acknowledge that something was wrong.

Bill, in a desperate attempt to make things easier for his wife, asked his mother what might be the problem - ‘surely,’ he thought ‘after seven children she might have some idea.’. The best Molly could offer was the suggestion that they see a doctor from St. Mungo’s psychiatric ward. Fleur had been furious at the suggestion, she had flown into a rage, screaming that she was perfectly sane, that to suggest such  a thing was cruel and unnecessary. Bill had thought it might be a pride thing - that Fleur didn’t want anyone to know the difficulties she was having - it wasn’t. Molly, though lacking the correct vocabulary to describe why she thought Fleur should seek out medical help, had had a point. Months after they had separated, after Fleur had gone back to France to stay with her mother - to get her thoughts straight, she had said, as Bill watched from the doorway of their bedroom helpless to do anything but hold Victoire in his arms and hope that she might sleep through her mother leaving, as Fleur had packed a suitcase, closing it firmly. Brushing past him and wrapping her cloak around herself, she placed her hat neatly atop her perfectly done hair and tossed a handful of floo powder into their living room fireplace, she had given her mother’s address, and blown a kiss in Victoire’s direction, offering Bill a sad smile as she stepped into the green flames and disappeared. It was the most warmth she had shown either of them in so long. Bill had fallen asleep in the glider in Victoire’s room that night, unable to let her go for even a moment, tears drying and leaving tracks down his face as he tried to keep this hiccuping sobs from waking his daughter - Bill had heard a muggleborn colleague in  the next carrel over while researching something he can’t remember explaining to someone else how the wizarding world was sorely lacking in treatment options for struggling new mothers. She had described her wife’s symptoms and, feeling slightly guilty for listening in, Bill was shocked to hear how closely, how nearly exactly, they matched with Fleur’s. It had been the first and only time Bill had ever heard of such a thing, and he had gone home that night and cried, blaming himself for not being able to do more to help - for not knowing that there was more he could do to help.

It was (Y/N)’s soft yawn that drew Bill’s attention from his spiraling thoughts - thoughts that had a tendency to spiral further and further into what if territory when he wasn’t careful - and back into the present moment.

When he’d finally blinked away the last remnants of sleep, Bill was once again met with sight of the unfamiliar room he’d caught a glimpse of earlier. The sunlight seeping in gave the room a golden glow, and the pretty blue floral duvet and white linens surrounding him and (Y/N) smelled of sunshine and clean laundry. Bill shifted slightly away from her, carefully tucking the duvet around her to keep out the chill of the early spring morning. He would need to find a way to owl his mum, make sure Victoire was okay and see if she could watch her for a few more hours.

When (Y/N) had yawned again, it had drawn Bill’s attention to her side of the bed, and that was when he saw it.

On the nightstand, a pair of glasses laying atop it, was a large piece of cream parchment - only a simple gold foiled border around the edge of it belying its importance. Reaching for the paper, careful not to disturb (Y/N), who was still mostly asleep as he leaned over her form to grasp it, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he should remember this. Lightly, Bill traced a finger over the words on the page - over the dried ink of both his and (Y/N) signatures, of the names of officials his still tired brain vaguely remembered but couldn’t quite place. His gaze followed his finger as he traced upwards, and then he felt his heart give a lurch.

In solid black letters at the top of the page were three simple words: Certificate of Marriage. He went back to the bottom, tracing over the names of the officials from before. Now he could place those names. They were the names of officials who worked at the ministry, in a department that primarily worked processing and granting approval for the requests for marriage licenses and, not infrequently, performing what might be able to be called a courthouse wedding - Percy would often complain that the people in that office spent too much time doing nothing, and that the work they did do could easily be absorbed into another department. He was wrong, of course, that particular department handled not just marriages but divorce proceedings as well, something that was an unnecessarily involved ordeal for all involved parties in wizarding england. Everyone, namely due to several pieces of interesting gossip Hermione had unwittingly offered, had their suspicions that it had less to do with the department itself and more to do with Percy’s  dislike of several of the people who worked within that spurred such comments.

Bill spared a glance at (Y/N). As he did, she shifted, her arm now resting over where he had been laying moments before, and as he turned, the sun glinted off the gold of a delicate ring on her left hand. Bill glanced down, realizing that not only was he wearing a similar one, but that he had already fallen back into the easy, familiar habit of twisting it around and around his finger with his thumb without even noticing. He sighed, running a hand through his hair - it was long enough now that Molly would soon begin pestering him to cut it again. Bill slowly rose, standing, completely naked, in the middle of the room. Hastily, he gathered what he could see of the clothes he had been wearing the night before - hoping that that was everything. Whoever (Y/N) was, she was, as far as he could tell, his wife. Bill sighed, walking into the bathroom, and, as quietly as he could, shut the door behind him. This was something they were going to have to talk about - whatever decision was made it would impact not only the two of them, but Victoire as well, and the last thing he wanted was to cause her any harm because the decision that was made was made hastily and without all the facts. For the time being, or at least until his wife woke up, he wanted a shower. Maybe the running water would do him some good, help him clear his head a bit before he was able to get his hands on a hangover remedy.

One thing that had been made clear from the marriage certificate - (Y/N) was a witch - and that simplified things at least a little.

[weasleys-wizard-writes]

weasleys-wizard-writes | general m.list

- Key -

☼ -Fluff ☾ -Angst ✧ - Suggestive ♡ -NSFW

- Series Masterlists - (Coming Soon)

Over The Years (Charlie Weasley x Reader) The Making Of A Weasley (George Weasley x Reader) We Stood In the Sun (Before It Exploded) (George Weasley x Reader) Betrothed (Fred Weasley x Reader x Draco Malfoy) Latency Lingering (Fred Weasley x Reader)

- Characters -

Fred G. Weasley:

Oneshots:

Passion ☼ ☾ How Things Can Change ☼ Strength ☾ Trying ♡ For The Best ☾

Series:

Betrothed - [I] [II] [III] ☾ Latency Lingering - [I] [II] ☾

George F. Weasley:

Oneshots:

The Parent Couple ☼ Girls Night Out ♡ Miles Away ♡ Bright Mornings ☼ ♡ Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder ♡ The Funny Thing ☾ A Minor Injury ☼ The Best Wedding Present ☼ Knowing The Difference ☼ A Weasley Sized Family ☼ ♡ Lucky ☼ When We Live ☼ Forever in the Rain ☼ Wardrobe Mix Up ☼ ✧ Waiting on a Magpie ☼ ☾ Beautiful Ruiner, Damn My Ashes ♡

Series:

The Making of a Weasley - [I] [II] [III] ☼ ♡ We Stood In the Sun (Before It Exploded) - [I] ☾ ♡

Charlie S. Weasley: 

Oneshots:

A Painful Comparison ☾ A Damn Chance ☼ A Big Misunderstanding ☼ Because Of A Bird ☼ How Much I Love You ☼ Baby Blues ☼ ☾ Long Distance Baby ☼ ☾ Unexpected ☼ ☾ Love Me ☼ ✧

Series:

Over the Years - [I] [II] [III] [IV] ☼

Percy I. Weasley:

Oneshots:

Surprise, Surprise ☼

Draco L. Malfoy:

Series:

Betrothed - [I] [II] [III] ☾

Oliver B. Wood:

Excerpts:

Oliver Wood and the MILF Next Door ☼

Regulus A. Black:

Oneshots:

A Sorry Substitute ☾ ☼

Ominis T. Gaunt:

Oneshots:

Return ☼

Excerpts:

Ominis x Childhood best friend Reader ☼

Cedric A. Diggory:

Oneshots:

Fuck Buddies ♡ ☾

- Additional Links -

Prompt List Personal Ask List Ko-fi

[poeticallyspiteful]

Heyy! I’m absolutely obsessed with anything Charlie Weasley atm and when I saw that you were taking requests I knew had to ask for him! I’ll give you creative freedom but pls Charlie! Thank you so so so so much!❤️

reflecting light

charlie weasley x reader

angst / fluff?

cw: mentions of war and death, charlie threatens someone, minimally proof-read

summary: the war has destroyed everything—you could use some light.

notes: i love gilmore girls and wanted to write something more poetic sounding so here it is, thank you so much for the request and i hope you enjoy this piece <33

now that I've worn out

i’ve worn out the world

i’m on my knees in fascination

bill and fleurs wedding was beautiful. it was a bit solemn—melancholy, some might say— given the less than optimal circumstances surrounding it. but for one night, all those in attendance got to play pretend. act as though their lives were not in danger and like a war was not raging all around them.

but as much as you loved your friends, you were having a hard time pretending. the night itself was beautiful. the moon shown down, gorgeous and waning, and made the whole tent look as if it were glowing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to glow with it.

you sat at your table, sipping your champagne, looking around at the guests. having known the weasley’s since you were eleven years old, it was hardly the first time you’d met most of these people, but you couldn’t help but worry that this would be the last.

looking through the night

and the moon's never seen me before

but i’m reflecting light

“hey,” tonks said, snapping you out of that dark place with a gentle hand on your knee. you returned her warm smile as best as you could. “don’t get in your head now. everything’s alright.”

you took a shakey breath and nodded, and took a larger gulp of your champagne to wash those horrid thoughts down. “yeah, yeah of course.”

tonks smiled sadly, standing up and making her way back over to her parents. you looked down to your dress and swore it looked right back, dauntingly pretty. you wanted to tell it to stop, to be dull and sad just like everything else.

i rode the pain down

got off and looked up

looked into your eyes

you felt someone approaching you, and kept your head down, hoping the stranger would go away. however, the presence paused just behind you, looming over you like an umbrella from the rain.

“you haven’t danced.”

you turned around, chest suddenly feeling a tad bit lighter than it had before; charlie stood over you, clever smile on his lips. his already crooked tie had gone loosened but he still look as stunning as ever.

“everything seems far too pretty for the world right now,” you stated, tossing back the last of your champagne. “i just wanna sink into the ground and stay there forever.”

charlie’s jaw ticked and he stuck out his hand expectantly, eyes never leaving your face. “alright then, darling, but only if you dance with me first.”

the lost open windows

all around

my dark heart lit up the skies

suddenly the world around you felt gentle, like everything had melted away except for you and him. it felt as if the people around you had shifted into simple silhouettes and quiet murmurs when you took his hand.

he led you across the yard, and through your slippers, you felt bump and imperfection in the grass that you’d passed over every summer at the burrow. the very same spots you’d laid with him, staring at the stars.

the spot where you’d held him as he cried after his parents had reacted poorly to the job offer in romania— the spot where he asked you to go with him, and the spot where you’d agreed.

now that I've worn out

i've worn out the world

i'm on my knees in fascination

charlie brought you to a halt, carefully turning you to face him and once again, you only saw him. only smelled him, the strong scent of cedar and cinnamon on his skin. you only felt him as he pulled you closer by the waist.

slowly, you started swaying, soft and slow. awkwardly, at first, as you found your footing, but soon enough, it felt like you were floating. the sight, smell, and the feel of him consumed you— wrapped you up in massive, feathered wings and lifted you off the ground.

you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, slow and steady. everything felt slow, like each step took a century, or more like you were not even stepping at all. thoughts of blood and bruises were washed away with a rushing wave of nothing and everything all at once.

looking through the night

and the moon's never seen me before

but i'm reflecting light

the dark, weightless fabric of your dress seemed to glow under the moon the way the sky does when illuminated by stars. you felt charlie rest his chin a top your head, softly humming to the tune of the music.

you remembered the day you first met him, during your first year at hogwarts. you’d stumbled onto the train late, and the first compartment you found held a small, red headed boy and his older brother.

give up the ground

under your feet

hold on to nothing for good

your shoe laces were untied, your jeans were too big in some places and too tight in others, and your suitcase was bursting at the seams; you were the image of an awkward eleven year old.

as you struggled onto the train, face hot with embarrassment from being undoubtedly the last one to climb on, your eyes searched for an empty seat. the first ten or so compartments were full, and you were starting to get nervous— what if you couldn’t find a seat? you could feel the eyes on you and swore you heard some snickers leaking through the sliding doors. oh god, everyone was judging you, weren’t they? what a great start to your year.

finally, about five more compartments down, two carrot top heads caught your eye. ‘thank the gods’, you thought, ‘my saviors’. before you knew it, you were yanking the door open and two sets of emerald green eyes were staring back at you.

“is this seat taken?”

the younger boy smiled back at you. “nope.”

turn and run at the mean dogs

chasing you

stand-alone and misunderstood

“hey!”

you kept your head down, holding your books close to your chest— you’d left the greenhouse a little later than intended, and were praying you wouldn’t run into anyone.

you weren’t that lucky though.

“hey!” the ravenclaw boy—peter, you thought his name was—shouted again.

against your better judgment, you turned around, coming eye to mouth with crooked yellow teeth and rancid breath. fuck, you really should not have helped charlie pull that prank on him last year.

“listen, mudblood,” peter seethed. “you better—”

you barely peeked the top of a red mess of hair before peter was yanked back by his collar and all but shoved to the ground.

“fuck off.”

peter scoffed. “you think you scare me?”

charlie’s jaw clenched. “did you not here me? leave her alone, or i swear, i will hang you by the ankles in the middle of the great hall as a charms exercise for the first years. got that?”

“alright, alright!” peter squeaked, stumbling to his feet and limping away and cursing under his breath.

as charlie turned back to you, you couldn’t help but laugh, smacking his chest. he smiled down at you, his cheeks rosy— from the cold or your proximity, neither of you were sure.

“great timing,” you giggled as he hooked his arm through yours, starting back to the castle. “how’d you know i was in trouble?”

charlie shrugged. “i always know when you need me.”

now that i’ve worn out

i’ve worn out the world

i’m on my knees in fascination

but you weren't kids anymore. dumbledore was dead, a war was raging, and as much as you wanted to deny it, nobody was safe.

"i'm scared," you whispered, head still resting on charlie's chest.

charlie kept his chin atop your head. "i know."

looking through the night

and the moon's never seen me before

but i’m reflecting light

[hd-erised]

H/D Erised Fic: In a Year's Turning

Author: @hoko-onchi-writes Recipient: @maraudersaffair Pairing(s): Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Rating: Explicit Word Count: ~89,000 Tags: exes-to-lovers, non-linear narrative, getting back together, mutual pining, parenthood, kid fic, Harry Potter raises Teddy Lupin, age regression/de-aging, single parent Harry Potter, bisexual disaster Harry Potter, gay Draco Malfoy, unusual jobs, Christmas fluff, domestic fluff, they’re very soft, angst, grief/mourning, parenting difficulties, magically powerful Harry Potter, magically powerful Teddy Lupin, gardens & gardening, Magical Theory (Harry Potter), accidental magic (Harry Potter), ghosts, house magic, sentient magical houses (Harry Potter), cooking as a metaphor for love, bonding magic, cooperative magic, wandless magic (Harry Potter), past minor Charlie Weasley/Harry Potter, past minor Justin Finch-Fletchley/Harry Potter, there are two beds but they’re sharing one, amateur falconry, previous breakup, drinking, smoking, explicit sexual content, dom/sub undertones, rough sex, dirty talk, begging, mpreg, pregnancy kink, medium burn, switching, anal sex, blow jobs, rimming, first time, intercrural sex, hand jobs, frottage

Summary: With Andromeda gone, Harry is suddenly a single parent and struggling with a grieving kid.  When Draco offers help, Harry accepts.  It’s been nine years. Surely, Harry can handle Draco being back—for Teddy’s sake.   

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. 

In a Year's Turning

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Bee's Fic Recs 💌✨ | Multifandom works

Happy 2025!! I've been writing on Tumblr since 2020, but I've been reading fanfic on here much longer. So here is a full list of my absolute favorite works from over the years of all the fandoms I love by amazing, talented writers! These writers inspire me every day and I look forward to every time they post. 🥹❤️ might do a part 2 to this soon!!

Note: this list of fic recs contains works that have fluff, angst, smut, canonical violence & death, etc. Be sure to read the content warnings and be mindful. MDNI on works 18+

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Marvel

You're My Person | TASM!Peter Parker Imagine by @luvingspence

Right Where You Left Me | TASM!Peter Parker Imagine by @loeyparker

You Are Not To Blame | TASM!Peter Parker Imagine by @maximoff-pan

Static Verse | Bucky Barnes Series by @theconstantsidekick

Madripoor | Bucky Barnes Imagine by @imagines-all-day-everyday

Reality Check | Loki Series by @ohmygoodnessgraciouss

From the Void, With Love | Loki Series by @whirlybirbs

Bold | Loki Imagine by @loving-barnes

If I Keep Running Back to You | Loki Imagine by @theonewiththefanfics

No Sleep Till Brooklyn | Steve Rogers Series by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord

Sugar Lips and Starky-Boy | Tony Stark Imagine by @jamesbuchananxsteviegrant

He's Funny That Way | Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes Imagine by @birdsofpry

Only Forever | Steve Rogers Series by @thank-you-for-the-vampire-money

This is Not Goodbye | Avengers Imagine by @imaginesforjoy

Home | Steve Rogers Imagine by @mikrowrites

Stardust | Loki Series by @imaginesoutofahat

Twilight

The Hybrid | Demetri Volturi Imagine by @wallwriterstuff

Revenge | Volturi Imagine by @like-rain-or-confetti

Oh No, He's Hot | Felix Imagine by @captain-yeet

Volturi Queen | Volturi Imagine by @fanficimagery

Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon

Hiraeth | Gwayne Hightower Imagine by @sainttherezia

The Sword and the Quill | Gwayne Hightower Series by @seancekitsch

Campaign Trail | Modern Gwayne Hightower Au by @seafarersdream

The Good Queen | HOTD Imagine by @itsgameofthronesimagines

Top Gun: Maverick

NCIS | Bradley Bradshaw Imagine by @ohtobeleah

Return to Me | Bob Floyd Imagine by @lewmagoo

The Better Man | Bradley Bradshaw Imagine by @bradshawsbaby

Jukebox War | Jake Seresin Imagine by @roosterforme

Call Me Daddy | Jake Seresin Imagine by @eternalsams

White Liar | Jake Seresin Imagine by @mrssturnioloo

Stranger Things

Wicked | Eddie Munson Imagine by @munson-blurbs

Gladiator II

The Prophecy | Lucius Verus Series by @lilmisshellfireswritingblog

Dies Natalis | Geta & Caracalla Imagine by @painted-flag

Near Death Experience | Gete Imagine by @megalony

Golden Empress | Emperor Geta Imagine by @multific

Soulmates | Emperor Geta Imagine by @multific

Men In Black

Happy Little Mistakes | Agent K Imagine by @lesbianstarkx

Harry Potter

Hardly Hurt | Newt Scamander Imagine by @xbarrjallenx

The Magizoologist and The Magizoolinguist | Newt Scamander Imagine by @b-eehive

The White Owl | Newt Scamander Imagine by @redneonmoons

Lovesick Niffler | Newt Scamander Imagine by @miss-authorcita

At All Costs | Charlie Weasley Series by @ardentmuse

Return of the Jackal | Sirius Black Imagine by @stallingdemons

Animal Instinct | Sirius Black Imagine by @ra-veela-claw

The Grishaverse

Gotta put Some Color in the Miserable Place | Kaz Brekker Imagine by @crazyyluvr

Matching Bracelets | Kaz Brekker Imagine by @happyyyandcrazyyy

Helmets | Modern Kaz Brekker AU by @mcntsee

Love Language | Kaz Brekker Imagine by @rubysunnday

The Phoenix and the Crow | Kaz Brekker Series by @ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes

Set, Charge, Boom | Kaz Brekker Imagine by @stray-kaz

Midnights | Kaz Brekker Series by @auroravictorium

Fallout

At the End of the World | Cooper Howard Imagine by @queenxxxsupreme

How About A Nuke | Cooper Howard Series by @not-neverland06

Sweet as Nuka Cola | Cooper Howard Imagine by @periprose

Bridgerton

Over the Garden Wall | Benedict Bridgerton Series by @homeofthepeculiar

Forgive Me | Benedict Bridgerton Imagine by @benedictscanvas

Doctor Who

Lured Desire | The Tenth Doctor Imagine by @doctenwho

Paradox | The Tenth Doctor Imagine by @shenkizoo

No Reset | The Tenth Doctor Imagine by @madboxwithagirl