#george weasley x fem!french!reader

[bitterspoons]

For once, I thought it was me.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Soulmate au where you can hear the songs your soulmate is listening to. Fred asks your best friend—Angelina—to the ball thinking she's his soulmate.

use of y/n

Warnings: Angst and just a lil' fluff

Word Count:

part one / part two coming soon

A/N: of course the first thing I write is a soulmate au 😭—it's fine and I hope you like it.

"Angelina!" Y/n calls, running over to the Gryffindor table—almost tripping over her feet before placing a hand on Angelina's shoulder.

"Yes?" Angelina looked up from her conversation with the Weasley twins and smiled at her best friend. The Great Hall was bustling with noise.

Y/n panted, catching her breath as she fixed her hair. "Sorry—I just—I ran—oh god I'm dying—" Y/n tried to catch her breath before waving her hand at the twins. "Give me a second—continue your conversation..."

Angelina chuckled before turning back to George and Fred. "This is my friend, Y/n." Angelina introduced. "She's in Hufflepuff so I doubt you would've met her."

Y/n waved, stealing some of Angelina's water.

"Why haven't you invited her to some of our parties?" George asked, batting his eyes. "It would've been nice, seeing a pretty face more often."

Angelina rolled her eyes at the flirt, making space next to her for Y/n. "Yeah, I've asked her but she's not a huge fan of social events." She explained. "It's a miracle she's even in the Great Hall—why aren't you with Willow?"

"Oh, I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out after Divination. Turns out my detention with Professor Sprout is cancelled!" The Hufflepuff said happily, still a bit red from George's flattering.

"Hell yeah!" Angelina cheered. "I told you she loves you."

Y/n smiled. "Yeah but turning her favorite plant into a pair of heels is pushing the line."

Fred cackled. "Y/n, You did what?!"

In her head, a symphony sounded. Him just saying her name sounded like an orchestra.

Pops of warmths fidgeted around her. She had always had a crush on the Weasley, and she never really knew when it happened. She hasn't told a soul and she never would. It was just— he always seemed so happy. She had made him happy, she made him laugh.

Y/n beamed as she explained how she had gotten too caught up with her conversation with Angelina about what shoes to wear for the Yule Ball, she had completely forgotten about the spell she was casting.

"Little Chéri's a troublemaker huh?" Fred teased, scrunching up his nose.

"Chéri?!" Angelina cackled—not a fan of pet names in the slightest.

George grumbled. "Fred has been learning French so he can impress girls."

Y/n laughed, taking a sip of Angelina's water again. "I think it's cute." She bit the tip of her thumbs, an old habit of hers.

"Ever the hopeless romantic, Y/n." Angelina commented, stealing her drink back.

The four engaged in conversation until a Slytherin tapped on Y/n's shoulder. "Uh—Y/n, I think I have a fitting right now." She said awkwardly, getting glares from the Gryffindors.

"Oh!" Y/n shot up, grabbing the last strawberry off of Angelina's plate before grabbing Angelina's pen—sticking it behind her ear—and running off, dragging the Slytherin with her.

"Hey!" Angelina protested, grumbling as she bit into her toast.

"What was that about?" Fred asked, battling Ron for the last corndog.

"Huh? Oh—Y/n and I are helping organise the Ball." Angelina explained, not seeing how Fred watched her run her fingers through her hair as she grabbed another pen to do her Potions Homework. "She's helping make and tailor people's outfits."

"Y/n?" Hermione clarified, popping into the conversation. "She's ridiculously talented, she made the dress I'm wearing!"

"She made adjustments on mine!" Angelina looked at Hermione. "I didn't like how bland my dress was, so she helped bedazzled it."

"Do you think she can fix Fred's dress?" George asked, earning a punch from Fred. "Ow! No seriously though, his tie is all wonky and his pants go way past his feet. Poor bloke's gonna trip!"

Angelina laughed, packing her stuff away and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Find out yourself! I have to go check up on the Frog Choir."

Just a couple minutes later, Fred heard oddly croaky choruses from his soulmate.

●●●

Fred was trying to go the sleep that night, but all he could hear was stupid music.

When he couldn't decipher whether he was hearing it through his soulmate or if he was hearing it in the common room, he shoved his slippers on and slowly went down stairs.

As he peeked his head around the corner, he saw Angelina dancing with somebody—a CD player in the background as they laughed.

It was the same music playing in his head...Is Angelina—actually his soulmate?

He watched Angelina dance with her friend, practicing their dance for the ball before slowly going back upstairs.

Y/n and Angelina fell the floor in a heap, almost crying of laughter as Angelina stepped on Y/n's foot and then went crashing to the floor.

"So, are you planning on asking your mystery crush to the ball?" Angelina asked, rolling onto her stomach and popping the CD out.

Angelina didn't have a clue about her crush on one of the Weasley twins. Y/n refused to tell her, but she did give vague details about why she liked him so much.

"You think I have time for that?" Y/n questioned, brushing her hair. "Even if I did have the time to ask him, he's probably not even my soulmate."

"Who cares?" Angelina asked, exasperated.

Angelina was one of the people who couldn't hear music from their soulmate, it happened more than you'd think—about as common as dyslexia.

Angelina didn't give two fucks about whether the person she was dating was her soulmate, she tended to do whatever she wanted.

"Well—my soulmate is pretty cool too." Y/n protested.

"Well obviously!" Angelina retorted. "They has to be good enough for our Y/n"

"Oh stop it." Y/n laughed, throwing her hairbrush at Angelina. "I won't have time to ask someone and besides, I think he likes someone else." Y/n looked down, fiddling at the edge of her pink pyjamas.

"Your soulmate or your crush?"

"Maybe both!"

●●●

Fred woke up early today, mostly because he couldn't sleep. I mean, he just found his soulmate! This is the moment that everybody waits for, and it finally happened!

Fred was utterly in love with whoever his soulmate was. The two soulmates have sang duets with each other since they could talk—never making any action to try and find each other but Fred would be lying if he said he hadn't blasted music in his ears just to see if someone in the Great Hall would react.

His soulmate was constantly listening to music and singing songs, it comforted him whenever he heard it—especially since he's heard it since he was little.

And it was Angelina, a girl he was been trying not to crush on for ages.

Fred walked down the stairs, almost laughing when he saw Angelina.

Angelina and Y/n were completely passed out on the common room couches, paper sprawled out as they were doing a history of magic essay.

Fred shook Angelina awake. "Angie...Angie!"

Angelina fell off the bed. "What?"

Fred grinned. "I just thought you might wanna head to bed before the rest of the house wakes up."

Angelina rubbed her eyes before looking around—seeing essay papers, pens and her best friend, still sleeping as she sleepily held the tip of her thumb in her mouth and lulled herself asleep. "What time is it?"

"You have a little less than three hours before everybody else wakes up."

Angelina sighed, getting up and separating their papers and pens. "Hey, Fred?"

"Yeah?" He said hopefully.

"Can you do me a favour?"

Angelina handed him a messenger bag with little bows and gold chains decorating it, he took it without question as she continued.

"Do you think you could get Y/n to her common room? This is.. um This is the longest she's slept for a while and I don't know how to get into the Hufflepuff common room."

Fred thought for a moment—but who was he to deny his soulmate? After all, getting into the Hufflepuff dorms were easy—having learned the ins and outs of practically the whole school.

So Fred slung the bag across his shoulder and walked over to Y/n, still sleeping peacefully.

"Thank you!" Angelina grabbed her own supplies and started going up stairs. "You're the best!" She called. "I'll get you a tailoring with her today! Is dinner alright?"

Fred nodded, slowly picked Y/n up, putting her on the couch so he could give her a piggy back ride to her common room. "Hold on..."

Almost as if her sleeping body could hear it, Y/n's body tensed up, making it easier for Fred to carry.

So Fred walked out of the Gryffindor dormitories and started walking in the halls to go to the Hufflepuff common room.

The sun had barely risen, shining dull lights into the hallway and Fred felt Y/n shift in her sleep—ignoring how his skin fluttered as her breath rolled on top of it.

Fred almost stopped walking as Y/n shifted once more, making a small whimper, trying to pull her hand closer to her face.

"Chéri, if you move your hand, you're gonna fall—okay?" Fred said softly, adjusting his grip on her legs, making sure she wouldn't slip.

Y/n hummed in response, tucking her head on Fred's shoulder as he kept on walking.

Fred was halfway to the common room—walking slowly as to not wake up Y/n when he froze.

Having her thumb clasped between her fingers around Fred's chest, supporting her upper body weight—Fred felt her head twitching, needing something to soothe her to sleep.

Not wanting to have to explain the situation to the sleeping girl or disappoint Angelina—Fred adjusted the girl, now giving her a piggy-front, letting Y/n head sit comfortably against his neck.

Fred debated checking whether his face was on fire when the sleeping girl began to press little kisses on his neck, trying to substitute something for her thumb.

Fred continued walking, but why was he so flustered?

Maybe it’s his soulmate’s best friend.

What was her name again? Y/n?

Fred knocked on the Hufflepuff dorm door in the tune of Helga Hufflepuff. Before walking in and taking the stairs to the girl’s dormitory.

Trying not to feel awkward, he searched the dorm labels until he saw it.

______________

Girls Dorm #207

- Susan Bones

- Lia Diggory

- Y/n L/n

______________

Praising Merlin that she didn’t have too many roommates— He knocked on the door a few times, jumping up again to make sure Y/n didn’t slip.

"Hello?" A small voice asked, a very tired red head opened the door.

Fred gave an award smile. "I have a delivery?"

The girl smiled before letting him in and pointing at the empty bed and messed up desk.

Feed walked over, clutching on to Y/n as he quickly flipped the blanket open and tucked her instead. Y/n immediately latched onto the blankets.

Fred smiled before looking at her desk—tons of dress designs a long with tons of reminders everywhere when a certain one caught his eyes.

The Weasley Twins Inspired Dress

Curious, he picked up the sketch to see that she managed to make a confetti canon dress, inspired by that time he and George covered the Slytherin team in confetti right before a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff.

"I think you're cute together," Susan whispered bashfully, her cheeks pink.

"Oh no," her face fell when Fred denied it. "I already found my soulmate today."

"Oh I'm sorry." Susan apologised, combing her hair. "I just thought your h—never mind." She began to point at her neck before waving it off. "I assume you know how to take care of it?"

"Yeah! I'm planning on asking her to the yule ball!" Fred said, not having any idea what Susan was talking about.

"What? Ya know what—" Susan dug through her make up bag before grabbing Fred's arm and swatching some concealer shades. "You're lucky, you're my winter shade." Susan tossed Fred a concealer wand before shooing him out. "Bye!"

Holding onto the concealer, extremely confused, Fred walked back to him common room before going into the bathroom.

"Shit." Fred vocalised, realising why Susan Bones has thrown him concealer.

A light hickey lay on the side of his neck where Y/n had been.

Fred spent the next two hours trying to figure out how concealer worked.

He didn't understand it—instead opting for a scarf instead to cover up the blotchy disaster he created on his neck.

●●●

Y/n genuinely didn't question why she woke up in her bed and more concerned on her planner—you could see her running up and down the halls all day.

"Professor Moody, may I borrow Ron Weasley please?"

Ron showed her his suit for the ball. "Never mind, you're beyond help. Professor Moody, you can have him back." Y/n said, scribbling something out in her planner.

Taking the stairs, Y/n just started walking—flipping to the back of her planner to edit some sketches and ideas for dresses—not noticing the stair cases changing directions.

Walking up and down and sideways along the halls, Y/n kept walking until she bumped into someone.

"I'm so sorry!" She said automatically only to be shushed by two voices. "Huh—?"

""SHH!" Y/n looked at the two Weasley twins.

"Why?" She asked, looking around to see nobody.

"I don' know," Fred admitted.

"We're skipping, so I assume we have to be quiet." George finished.

The Hufflepuff scoffed. "I'm not skipping. I did all my work in advance so I could focus of the dress making." She looked down at the planner. "And on that note—you have a appointment with me in two minutes. We can't be late!"

"Does that mean you have the answers?" Fred asked as he got dragged away.

"We can discuss answers after we're on time for our session."

"If it's our appointment, how can we be late?"

Y/n sighed, shaking her head. “It’s fine we’re almost there, Willow’s gonna be upset.”

“Who?”

Y/n dragged Fred near a tree where a small desk, mannequins and color swatches were, Y/n thrust Fred upon a little platform until tree branches began to swing around chaotically.

“Willow! Calm down! This isn’t Ron! This is a different Weasley!” Y/n started yelling.

“Willow? As in the Whomping Willow?!”

“Stop moving!” Y/n snapped, petting the branches. “Willow didn’t like it when your brother nearly killed her with a car. I think she has like— Weasley trauma.”

Fred cackled. “Weasley trauma?” A tree branch slapped the back of his head. “Hey!”

“She’s very sensitive.” Y/n defended. “Speaking of Ron, please tell me your suit isn’t as hideous.”

“Don’t worry— I just have a normal suit… I wasn’t sure if I should’ve brought it so I just wore it—”

“That’s perfect. Mind shrugging off the jacket and scarf?”

Nervously, Fred took off the scarf and jacket, revealing the concealer mess on his neck.

“Oh sweetie, what the hell happened to your neck!” Y/n cooed. "Goodness, let me help you. You're gonna break out... Accio makeup kit!"

"I have every shade under the sun, I'm helping people with their makeup too." Y/n waved her hand down. "Get down, off." Y/n stepped onto the platform as Fred stepped off, facing Y/n.

Y/n took a makeup wipe and cleaned up the spot before taking out a whisk and spinning it on the hickey.

"When did you learn how to hide hickey? Does that even work?" Fred asked, watching the metal kitchen utensil.

"Oh hush, it's common knowledge." Y/n pushed his face away, continuing to whisk. "It helps the blood disperse. Next time, put ice on it before it bruises."

Shade matching and blending it in, Y/n hoped Fred couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest as she finished hiding the red mark. "See? Like it never even happened."

Willow presented a mirror for Fred to see for himself, thank god because that scarf was very itchy.

"Now, how much are we thinking off the tie?" Y/n held up a tape measure and a sharpie, tucking the sharpie behind her ear. "It supposed to be around your belt buckle...Do you feel comfortable with it over here?"

Fred nodded, looking at her in the mirror more than him. Why hadn't he seen her more often? Has she been friends with Angelina for a long time?

"Lovely...okay do you mind if I take this?" Y/n took the colorful tie off Fred and held it up to Willow." Willow, this is Fred's tie." Willow held onto the tie.

"Okay just one second..." Y/n brought out a sheet of brown fabric and a sheet of black fabric and hopped onto the platform with him. She pulled the black one around half of his chest and the brown one around the other half.

"Okay so I think the brown is more flattering on you, I feel like you look paler with the black one—Hey!"

Fred's head started tilting to one side as he imagined Angelina and her hanging out—still in disbelief he had actually found his soulmate.

Y/n grabbed his jaw and moved it so that it faced her. "Sorry, I just need to see—" Y/n furrowed her eyebrows confused as Fred pointed at something in the distance behind her.

Y/n looked behind her only for her jaw to pulled back and facing Fred, pulling the same move she had accidentally done to him. "Touché," She smiled—desperately hoping she wasn't blushing.

"How long have you friends with Angelina?" Fred asked, snapping Y/n out of her mental freakout.

"Oh—uh, since first year. We met on the train." Y/n cast a spell to turn Fred's suit brown. "Yeah that looks better—you looked like you were going to a funeral."

“Then why do I never see you guys hang out?”

Y/n thinks before answering. “I like to keep myself busy, that or I just eat in the kitchen.”

“Why not hang out with Angelina?”

“Uh- Well Alicia and I don’t really get along so I don’t want to make it weird for Angelina. Besides, most of the time Angelina hangs out with me in the kitchen.”

So that’s why Fred never sees Angelina in the Great hall. “Why the kitchen?”

“Because the house elves love me.” Y/n smiled, writing her to do list. “Besides, I like baking.”

Fred stepped off the platform and watched Y/n write. “Do you bake any of the food in the Great Hall?”

“The brownies, but sometimes I also cook the ribs but I like baking more than cooking.”

Fred loves the brownies, he eats them every time they show up on the table.

“Speaking of food… It’s dinner, you better hurry before all the seats are taken.” Y/n starting putting things away and getting out a dress presumingly belonging to her next appointment.

Fred stepped off the small platform, checking his covered hickey once more before starting to turn around. "You aren't going to dinner?"

"Maybe later." She responded quickly, casting a spell on the dress. "Not hungry. " She said briefly. "You can pick up your tie by like tomorrow."

"Alright then, I'll see you around?"

"Sure. Angelina! Can you grab that?" A piece of fabric swirled away in the wind near an approaching Angelina.

Fred walked away, happy with his day and his fitting appointment.

(A/N lmao I have nooooo idea how to end these. Part two could be ready tomorrow or in 3 months, we'll see.)

[amortentiainmyfirewhiskey]

| and then there were 3 | fluffy-drabble

post-war fred w. x reader

Description: I'd like to order a fem reader x fred weasley scenario. A very cute and funny scenario involving the harry potter next generation (of harry's sons, you know) where fred and reader have triplets who have fred's chaotic personality at school, and they end up getting called in hogwarts because of the pranks. (A thousand apologies if the text is confusing, English is not my native language.

Names for the kids (Sorry if you don't like them lmao): 2 boys 1 girl- [ Fabian, George, and Seren]

w.c: 700+

For: @strqlau

---

It was an early spring morning when an owl tapped on your kitchen window carrying a letter that bared the Hogwarts crest. You merely sighed in resignation, already knowing by the annoyed look on the owl that this was regarding your children and something they did.

You opened the window and took the letter, beckoning the barn owl to come in for a much needed break. He hooted appreciatively and began pecking at the toast that lay on the counter.

It was only ten in the morning, what could they have possibly done in the past hour that you and Fred would have to put your day on hold to go down there.

You opened the letter and your eyes widened with every word, " Fred!" you called up the stairs. Your husband trotted down while trying to fix his eccentric tie, he had planned to go into the shop at 11 but by your tone he knew it would be much later.

" What the hell is it now?"

---

" It seems they all spread out and put some kind of hexed soap in every toilet in the school, and then flushed simultaneously," said Neville as they trudged through halls filled to the brim with suds and bubbles. You grimaced at your soggy pant leg, Fleur complained about her shoes being ruined , Angelina just looked pissed off and annoyed, and Ginny continued to talk about what she was going to do to James once she got her hands on him.

While Bill, Harry, George and Fred were all trying to repress a smile.

Finally you all arrived at McGonagall's office and waited for Neville to say the password. The staircase soon appeared before you all and you were soon met with the guilty faces of your children.

There were seven of them, all fourteen and in their fourth year. Dominique, James, Roxanne, Fred, George, Fabian, and Seren. Fleur pursed her lips and begin chewing Dominique in French. Ginny grilled James about how she had a life and she was tired of coming up here and threatening his life. Angelina had her arms crossed and said she was going to make sure they were running extra drills before and after practice.

You looked at your three and they held their breath, waiting for you to shout or give them some sort of punishment, but it never came.

You opened your mouth to give them a talking to before McGonagall arrived but you couldn't. The laugh you had been fighting since you saw old Filch looking for the ancient Mrs. Norris in the bubbles only to trip over her instead broke free from you. You doubled over laughing and the room came to a halt. Everyone looked at you in bewilderment but you couldn't help it.

Yes it was a mess but it was all in good fun, it made everyone's time at Hogwarts a little more special. These were the stories they would tell their kids. These moments was what you loved about Hogwarts.

" Ok," you gasped, " Sorry, I was thinking about Filch tripping over Mrs. Norris,"

The adults looked at one another, " Oh thank God I'm not the only one who almost fell out then and there, " said Angelina.

That was all it took for the rest of the adults to begin laughing.

The kids looked at each other in awkward relief and fear, they too began laughing. It was a light moment until everyone collected themselves upon hearing the staircase open and McGonagall on her way up.

You wiped your eyes and kissed your children on the tops of their heads, " You're still dead," you said sweetly.

---

You and Fred got home about two hours later and flopped down on your bed, the day pretty much already over with. You looked at one another and giggled at the events of today.

You interlocked your hands with his, " They're your kids," he said.

" Oh shut up!" you laughed, " You're the one who cursed this world with those three, they're bloody exhausting,"

Fred shrugged slightly, " Good thing they have you to keep them somewhat straight," he said before pressing his forehead to yours, " But also give them the mind to have fun and make it fun for others,"

You grinned and moved closer, " I guess you and I are pretty hilarious, it's in our genetic code, " you murmured.

He smiled before pressing a kiss to your lips, " Damn straight, (y/l/n)."

---

[griffxnnage]

chapter 6 - après la pluie, le beau temps

pairing: george weasley x fem!french!reader

word count: 1.0k

taglist google form

summary: if you wait long enough, and if you have faith, it pays off.

warnings: swearing, it's the last chapter :')

The first thing Y/N did, once she was closer to him, was slap him right across the face.

It took George by surprise, and his hand immediately went to the stinging flesh, thinking, “I deserved that one.”

He was still in shock from the slap when she pulled him in for a tight hug. “George Weasley, don’t ever make me go through that again.” She was stifling back tears, trying to hide it in his sweater.

George breathed in the scent of her hair, missing the familiarity of it, and realizing how much he missed her. He returned her bone crushing hug, missing the feeling of her body against his, and the warmth she provided.

The both slowly collapsed to the floor, and stayed entwined for Merlin knows how long. By the time they pulled away from one another, there were little wet spots on each of their clothes from the others' tears; they both laughed at that while wiping their eyes.

George took her hands in his, looking at them, and playing with her fingers.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for being a stupid git; it was wrong of me to accuse you of cheating. It’s just that I overthink everything, and I always focus on the negative, and that’s what's been on my mind ever since I heard you mention Alex-”

“George, I’d never cheat on you. Never. Unless the person flirting with me was Cindy Crawford, then you’re on your own.” Y/N chuckled, earning a boop to her nose.

“Good to know, goofball. And for the record, I’d never cheat on you, no matter the celebrity,” George laughed, wholeheartedly; a sound Y/N had missed hearing.

“Sorry for overreacting about this whole situation,” Y/N looked at the floor, feeling sorry for ruining the moment. “It’s just, I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before, and I didn’t know how to deal with it-”

“Y/N, now you’re the one rambling.” George chuckled, taking her face in his hands. “We both fucked up, and I’m pretty sure that’ll never happen again; at least, not on this scale.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Weasley,” Y/N smiled, leaning forward and giving him a kiss for the first time in (what felt like) forever.

-

A year after the whole fiasco, more fights had occurred, but they got through it, realizing, and always coming to the conclusion, that their love outweighed any fight, and would always prevail. And as Y/N was getting her hair and makeup done, she smiled at her memories with him, the good and the ugly.

As her stylist dusted her eyelids with glistening eyeshadow, she thought about the first time she ever laid eyes on him. She remembered thinking, “That’s him. He’s the one.”

When highlight was applied to her cheekbones, she was reminded of the little pecks George had placed there, whether he was just leaving for work, or smothering her face in kisses when they were cuddling.

When matte lipstick was applied to her lips, she thought of some fights that had occurred over the span of their relationship. She thought about when they made up, and the way her lips would dance across his freckled skin.

The stylist analyzed her face when all the poking and prodding had ended, and swiveled Y/N around in her chair to see the final result.

It was perfect. Not too much, but just enough to accentuate her features in the best way possible. As she examined her face, she thought to herself, ‘Wow, I’m getting married today.’

-

“Perk up Georgie, you’re getting hitched!!” Exclaimed Fred, slapping his twin on the back. They were both looking at George’s reflection in a full length mirror, looking for anything that was out of place.

Fred ended up adjusting George’s bowtie, even though it was already perfectly straight. George noticed this, and pushed his brothers hand away. “Fred, you know I’m still your twin, right?”

Fred blinked away tears, and just said, “Yea, I know that. I’m just sad that you’re the first one gettin’ married; it was supposed to be me.” George laughed at that, shoving his brother away.

-

After everyone was ready, and happy tears were being stifled, it was time for Y/N to walk down the aisle. As their song was playing, the congregation stood, and she began her descent. Her heart was pounding, and her palms were becoming a tad sweaty, but all of the nervousness faded when she saw George staring at her in complete awe.

He couldn’t do anything but openly cry at how beautiful she was, and that simple act brought Y/N to tears. When she reached the end of the aisle, she whispered to George, “There goes my makeup,”

“You look wonderful, my love.” George smiled, kissing the side of her head. “Now, let’s get hitched, shall we?” He tilted his head, an adorable crooked smile upon his face.

“Sounds good to me, Georgie.” Y/N was smiling so hard, it hurt.

As they both turned to the officiant, Y/N thought about all the things that happened for the both of them to be in that moment. After all the bad things she’d been through, after all the heartbreak of losing the ones she held most dear, she thought, ‘Après la pluie, le beau temps.’

After rain, good weather. Hang in there. And Merlin, was she glad she did.

Her mind also wandered to the first day they met, and how he asked what ‘C’est la vie’ meant. And she realized that it doesn’t always have to be used in a negative context; ‘that’s life’ demonstrates the ups and downs, and the inbetweens. It shows how unpredictably beautiful life can be, and she came to the conclusion that she was one of the lucky ones who got to experience that side of life.

As she looked at her husband to be, she could only think about how her life was only going to get better from that moment on. Just before she started to say her vows, she made a vow to herself; that no matter how terrible life seems to be, or how brilliant it turns out to be, she’ll always remind herself of the good old saying, c’est la vie.

general/series taglist: @ur-local-reality-shifter @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @voidmalfoy @daltonacademia@freddieweasleyswife @amphxtrite @yourlocalspencerreidsimp @luvshack @henqtic @chaoswalkinq @slytherclawbitch @nerdyblogger06 @horrorxweasley @mollysolo@hufflepuffalice @ohnoitsmekc @eccentricbookworm @bellaiscool

if your url is crossed out, i wasn't able to tag you </3

[acciojaeyun]

george weasley using a spreader bar... think about it 👀👀

over the phone accidents

pairing: george weasley x fem!reader warning: bdsm, degradation, slight voyeurism, george weasley using a spreader bar. also, do i have to mention ceo!george? i feel like i have to. prompt: "uh, you weren't supposed to hear that," "you still would want it, either way."

a/n: Y'ALL THE THOUGHT IS LITERALLY HOT???????? and i just really need to pause before writing this because george using a spreader bar??? i'm such a weak ass for this man. he's the death of me, i'm telling you. also the edit??? goddamn. thank you, anon! x

summary: what happens when george weasley hears y/n's conversation over the phone? well, not just any conversation, of course. it consists of an unspoken fantasy about to be attained.

"Are you done?" George asks as he pushes himself away from his glass desk. Taking a sip of his already-cold caffè corretto, a needed boost for an extra busy day. He takes a stern look at Y/N who was still busy jotting down the notes from the things George had reminded and told her about just a few seconds ago. Y/N was almost embarrassed under George's rather impatient stare, knowing that he'll be needing the notes as soon as he finished talking.

You see, George Weasley was an impatient man. An impatient man who had the immense amount of patience in other things, that being meetings and conferences with future investors and partners for his enterprise. His patience was only limited to work and his family. Amongst other things besides those, he was rather impatient.

Especially in the bedroom. And to be more specific, especially impatient with his executive assistant, Y/N.

Y/N Y/L/N never saw it coming. Her working at his company moments after her graduation as the company's human resource deemed her perfect for the position that had been open yet again after the last assistant had resigned since the CEO himself was someone difficult to keep up with.

And George liked to keep it that way, actually. He didn't like the thought of having an assistant no matter how much his parents had pushed him. They almost easily succumbed to the idea that he was doing fine independently, if only had he not been three minutes late one time for a business deal with a stock investor that one time, then he wouldn't be in constant hiring of assistant that would just give up on his attitude in the long run.

He actually found it interesting how Y/N had managed to keep up with him in the longest run. Maybe other than her rather obvious attraction to him, their sex was something put George in his line. Other than his sex drive being fulfilled most of the times, he had an outlet for every pent-up frustration. And, he also liked the idea of bossing someone around, work and bedroom-wise.

That's why he decided to keep Y/N. Not to mention that he was unintentionally falling for his assistant. But that was another topic for another day.

"Yes, wait a minute." Y/N replied, hands writing in such a hasty manner, not minding about the messy handwriting as long as it is still readable. "Well, can you go any slower? You know I have a meeting –"

"In five," she cut him off as she tore the piece of paper from her pad, "Here you go."

"Not very respectful of you to cut me off, Y/N."

Y/N blushed, looking down at the ground, "I'm sorry,"

"You have to be," George rolled his eyes, retrieving the paper and scanning his eyes throughout the paper, her messy handwriting still readable, as George thinks, relieved in the slightest. "You know what happens to disobedient little girls, do you?" he asked as he made his way to her, fingers taking a hold of her chin to hoist her head up, and when her head was fixated in a way he could easily lean into, he brought his head down and pulled her to a quick french kiss.

Y/N moaned at the sudden action, louder when George placed the paper inside the back pocket of his trousers to cup her sex under her beige skirt. "I haven't done anything yet, sweetness," he smirked, "But I do like the idea that I don't have to do anything to get you worked up."

George received a moan from Y/N, and his grin was something Y/N swears was enough to send her into an overdrive. His hand sped up in rubbing her over her clothed pussy, and when Y/N had reached on his arms to hold on to him, George had - much to Y/N's frustration - pulled away.

"I have a meeting in two," he smirked, smoothing out his unwrinkled black coat. "Wouldn't want this suede coat be wrinkled out of your impatience, love."

"Fuck you," you breathed, earning a chuckle from her boss. "What? This coat costs me a fortune, wouldn't want this to be ruined just because you couldn't sit still."

Y/N rolled her eyes, exceptionally and royally frustrated that George really had to do this. Normally, he would be up for a quickie even though he had a meeting in 10. That was why she was easy to give up herself to George when he had touched her in a rushed manner.

"I'll be back in an hour," George stated getting a hold of his phone as he ruffled his hair out of instinct. Something, before the whole thing with George, Y/N had found attractive beforehand. "Don't touch anything." George warned.

And when George had disappeared from his office, Y/N felt quite adventurous and went to sit on his leather chair, almost leaning to the chair on how relaxing it feels. Y/N now understands George persona, that being in power is something so addicting. That even sitting on a chair that she knew costed more than her wage exuded a different type of boost - not to mention the adrenaline of being caught by George in her position was something that have added to such excitement.

She knew it was wrong, but being his assistant for a mere timeline of eight months and a hook-up (as much as she wants more than that), Y/N knew so much about the office. But if ever there's something that she didn't know, it was the leather jewellery box beside his crystal liquor decanter, adjacent to another white door which Y/N couldn't quite figure what lies inside it.

Though Y/N may have had an idea, she couldn't quite picture the thought of having the thought of room inside his office. Besides, George was a busy man, while he can squeeze in a quick fuck in his office, Y/N thinks George wasn't into BDSM - that, or maybe she really doesn't know it yet. Besides, they were new to this whole agreement and it is better for George to initiate the conversation rather than her.

But curiosity killed the cat and Y/N was one stumbling feline. Knowing that George had already left ten minutes ago and she has fifty more minutes to spare (considering that she had done all of the necessary workloads before the set due), she went her way to the marble stand. Hands going first to the decanter to let herself take a quick shot to calm her down before she regretted taking a hold of the box.

Her hands, shaking, opened the box, and she was met with a shiny key that she didn't know if it belonged to the door adjacent to the mini bar. But Y/N took her chances, taking strides to the door with the key in her hand.

And the very moment she opened the door, she was met with a dimly-lit, charcoal-grey painted room. Her hands went to the side, knowing that switches of rooms in the building were just beside the door. Her breath hitched as the half bowl-shaped, warm-toned lamps flickered on one by one, exposing a wide array of sex toys to Y/N.

"Holy fuck," she muttered, frozen in her spot as she takes in the sight before her. She was mistaken. George was into BDSM. The room before her confirmed much to her.

When Y/N was about to come near to the sections of sex toys arranged in size and commonality, her thoughts were interrupted by a phone call.

"Hello?" she answered, not really minding who the caller was as her head was consumed with obscene scenarios with George. "Y/N! How are you?" Angelina, her best friend, squealed on the other line.

"Hey, Angie, I'm dong fine. What made you call?"

Angelina started talking about her day, which consisted a lot of rants from work and of course, her filthy thoughts about her crush which happened to be Fred Weasley, George's twin. Who was the complete opposite of George. As Fred was a bit more loose than the uptight George. She remembers him one time during family dinner which George - though she was confused about it - had brought her with him. She had decent conversations with Fred once or twice, it could've been more had George not warned her about it through squeezed thighs under the dinner table.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" Angelina asked, snapping Y/N out of her daydreams as she ran her fingers through the whip.

"What - oh, yeah, I'm here. What did you say?"

"You seem distracted."

"No, I am not."

"George looking exceptionally great today?" Angie teases, knowing how Y/N messages her once or twice a week whenever she found George wearing a new coat or had styled his hair differently. Words about how he looked so hot to fuck with, and how his new watch seemed to shine bright under the lights.

"No!" she yelled rather loudly, only to clear her throat at Angie's laughter, "I mean, yeah," she admitted, which made her best-friend laugh harder.

"I mean, a literal sex god, that man is. A walking piece of art. I wouldn't mind him using a spreader bar on me, that would be fucking hot. " she said, moving on to the other row, until her eyes landed on a familiar sex toy. She has heard about it, but she never used it (considering she hadn't have had BDSM to begin with) or even thought of using it. But the thought of George using a spreader bar on her has have had her pussy wet all over again.

"Mhm," Angelina hummed, as if expecting for a following phrase she knew Y/N was to give her any moment now.

"I mean," Y/N breathes, "There's never a day when George is not hot as hell, sexy, if I may add, and there's literally never a day when I wouldn't let him use m –"

And just as Y/N was about to turn around to get out of the room before she finds herself trapped in George's wrath out of her not following his instructions, she might've thought later enough as she was met with George Weasley himself leaning on the door frame with his hands folded on his chest.

Y/N swears she has heard a squeal on the end of the line, but Y/N already dropped her call with Angelina. Heart thumping as she was caught wandering inside of what Y/N assumes, George's playroom.

"Sir, your meeting ended quite earlier than expected," Y/N breathes, hoping that George had just arrived now and had only caught her in the room, and had not heard about what she wants George to do to her with a spreader bar. George responded with a chuckle.

"What did I say about 'not touching anything,' Y/N?" he asked, hands coming up for his thumb to play on his bottom lip. "Too caught up in your chat with whoever to not think of my instructions?" he smirked.

Y/N's mouth ran dry, "Uh, you heard that?"

"What, about you letting me use you whenever I please?" George raised his eyebrow up, taking a step in the room. "Please, I already know that."

Y/N sighed lightly out of relief.

"But I didn't know that you would want me to use a spreader bar on you."

Y/N's head whipped towards his direction, eyes widening at George who was already discarding his suede coat and hung it on the hanging rack beside the door.

"Uh, you weren't supposed to hear that," Y/N muttered, eyes never leaving George as he removed his watch after locking the door and placed it on the marble coaster below the rack.

Her breath hitched as George loosened the tie on his black shirt, removing it from his neck, "You still would want it, either way,"

George made his way to her, "I would be lying if I said I wouldn't want to use it on you."

And that was all it took before George had pushed his lips on hers, his hands immediately grabbing her arse and hoisting her to jump and wrap her legs around his torso. Y/N groaned to the kiss, as he felt herself being pushed towards the grey bed fixated on the centre of the room.

Her back felt the soft mattress, eyes never leaving George who was busy unbuttoning her shirt. Her hands travelled to his clothed cock, rubbing rather harshly the bulge restrained by his trousers. "Oh, Y/N," George moaned, hips involuntarily bucking to her touch. "Fuck," muttered, as his hands rushed in opening her blouse to dive his head on her chest, mouth immediately going for her breast as Y/N undid his belt and pushed his trousers down a bit.

George wasted no time, as he was busy sucking on her breast, his hands made its way to his trousers for him to push down and free himself from any restraint from his boxers or any piece of clothing.

A groan emitted from his lips as Y/N's hands wrapped around her pulsing dick, "Fucking hard for you, baby," George breathed as he bit on her swollen nipple. "Look what you've done to me."

Y/N moaned in response as George continued his actions, this time on the other breast, as George kneaded the now-discarded other. "Didn't know you'd want me to tie you up, really thought you were an innocent vanilla angel," George laughed at himself, hand gripping on her jaw to kiss her, "Clearly I was mistaken. You'd do anything for my cock, do you?"

"Yes, sir," Y/N mustered a response, eyes closing as George's mouth made its way to her neck, sucking and biting harshly that she was sure there'd be a hickey afterwards.

Y/N thinks whether it's in the alcohol that she had downed prior, or just the thought of the spreader bar on the floor, but she immediately flipped them both, George's back now on the mattress.

"What -" George was cut off immediately by a low groan as he felt Y/N's mouth take his erection inside her mouth. "Oh fuck, just like that, baby," George moaned, hand flying to Y/N's head and pushed her farther, wanting Y/N to gag on him.

"Such fucking - " he tried to form a sentence as he meets Y/N's eyes as she hollowed her cheeks more, as if she was tightening around George that moment. "You look so sexy as hell, baby. Sucking on your boss' cock like that, fucking taught you well." He groaned, guiding her head in such speed until Y/N swats his hand away.

George was dominant in bed, but seeing him very putty and just surrendering to the bliss knowing that she was the one doing it to him was very new to her. And she swears it was addicting. Hot, sexy, and addicting as hell.

"Y/N, stop, gonna come -" George cuts himself off with a long moan, his hands trying to push Y/N off from his dick, "Want to come inside of you, fucking - baby, please - "

Y/N must've heard nothing as she increased her pace, her hand now wrapping around his cock as she sucked on the head of his dick, earning a groan of pleasure from George which went straight to her dripping cunt.

"Not gonna last, fuck, Y/N!" he screamed, as he came inside her mouth in such huge amount. "You bloody minx," he says as he hoists himself up, the ecstasy of his high still not leaving him. "You think you could just disobey me like that?"

Y/N was about to response had George not pulled her skirt down along with her underwear, almost as immediately as he takes a hold of her left ankle to snap inside the cuff of the spreader bar. George tightened the cuff, eyes wandering over to Y/N for any signs of apprehension, only to receive a nod of approval. He went to hold the other ankle to do the same. Once he was finished with her ankles, he took a moment to ponder on whether he’d want her wrists to be cuffed as well.

“George -“

"Just thinking if I should cuff your hands," he raised his eyebrows at her, "Your hands get to be so touchy at times."

George decided to himself to let the following moments deem his verdict, Y/N almost shied away from George's entranced stare at her exposed body. "Hm, not too much wide for me," he muttered, clicking something on the bar which made Y/N's legs spread wider.

Y/N gasps as her legs spread wider, hands gripping on the bedsheet under her. George on the other hand, licked his lips as he was met with her pussy coated in her arousal, "That's more like it."

Shivers ran through her spine as she felt George run his fingers up and down her slit, jolting slightly at the light slap George had placed on her clit. George hummed, "Didn't even need to spit on this, holy shit."

He pushed her legs farther, her head almost of the same level with her ankles, "We're going to have fun, baby." he winked as he went down to her pussy, mouth immediately lapping on her wet cunt.

Y/N squealed George's name, hand desperately trying to reach George's hand, only to be held by his right hand to refrain her from reaching him. "Ah," he tutted, "I knew we would be needing these hands cuffed."

He hoisted himself up and cuffed her wrists on the spreader bar, reaching for his discarded necktie on the floor afterwards, "Will blindfold you, is that alright?"

She responded with an airy approval, heart almost thumping out of her chest. Her eyesight was then blacked out as she felt the fabric of George's necktie wrap around her head.

"This will heighten your senses, love."

"Okay,"

"If it gets too much, say 'red', alright?"

"Yes, I trust you, George."

George smiled in response, relieved Y/N wouldn't have to see his smile from what she had said. He went back to fully eating her out, three fingers instantly entering her pussy in such fast manner.

"Georgie," she managed to whine out. It was all pleasingly too much for her, his tongue swirling around her clit and his fingers move inside her walls. As Y/N was cuffed from any movement, all she was left to was receive all of his assaults on her sex.

Y/N's back arched, eyes squeezing shut behind the blindfold, "Oh, god, George -"

George received a faint gasp as he blew air on her cunt. Playfully going slow in going back to eating her out as if she was his last meal. Strings of George's name as well as continuous cuss words were all heard in the room, as well as the sinful, wet, skin-to-skin sounds from his fingers alone.

The ginger was already rutting his hips on the bed, for some sort of release in tension. All of Y/N's moans and groans were going straight to his cock, and when George felt her tightening around his fingers, a signal that she was close.

"George -"

"No, you're not coming yet."

He quickly pulled his fingers out, Y/N whining at the loss of contact. "But baby, how are we to enjoy this without my cock pushing into your dripping cunt, right?" he mused, instantly pushing his pelvis inside her, with Y/N screaming his name in response.

"Oh god, look at that -" George breathed, looking at where his dick is thrusting inside of her exposed pussy. "Look at how you are taking me so much, baby. Oh, wait, you can't really see how your stomach bulges from my cock, don't you?"

Her cheeks blushed at George's words, she couldn't help but relish in both pleasure and desperation. "Such a fucking slut, wanting George to use her anyway he pleases -" he groaned, halting in the fast paced thrusts to make hard and powerful ones which made Y/N moan as she felt the tip of his dick hitting her g-spot.

"Not to mention she wants George to use a spreader bar on her."

Y/N already felt herself coming yet again, and she almost curses George into oblivion when she feels him pulling out of her yet again. "George, what the fuck? Let me cum!" she whined.

"Damn, so desperate for it, aren't you?" George chuckled as he removed her blindfold, her eyes squinting at the sudden vision being slowly returned, being met with George's lust-blown eyes.

He removed the cuff on her hands, "Gonna try something," was all George said before he flipped Y/N on her stomach. He pushed her chin upwards to look at the mirror behind the headboard.

"Look at what I'm about to do to you, baby." He winked, getting a hold of her ass to put up in the air, her thighs kneeling on the bed. Y/N's lips trembled and drank in the sight of George, but then her face was soon met with the bed as her hands were pulled backwards to be cuffed beside her ankles. She couldn't help but feel turned on at such exposure and vulnerability.

"Good with this?" George asked her, leaning towards her ear to kiss her on the shell. "Yes," Y/N nodded.

"Good, 'cause I won't go easy on you."

George instantly slams into her from behind, both of them screaming each other's names out of pure bliss. "Oh, fuck, baby - tightening around my cock so well, I could fuck you for hours."

"George, George, George!" Y/N moaned, body trembling from the intense sensation, only to be driven over the edge as George's hand reached for her clit for him to play as his pussy was being thrusted in and out by his cock. George pushed his hips a bit more deeper, enabling him to reach a new angle, erupting a long, high moan from Y/N.

He took a hold of her hair, fisting it around his right hand, as he varied between his fast thrusts and powerful ones. It didn't take long enough before Y/N felt the familiar fire forming at the pit of her stomach once again.

"You're clenching around me, baby, are you going to come?"

"Yes, George, holy fuck!"

"Hm," he hummed, pulling her hair once more, "hold it."

"George, please, let me come, oh my god - please!"

"I said hold it, baby," he says, removing his hand from her hair to spank her ass cheeks. Y/N moaned in response, "God, George -"

"What's it with you today that makes it hard for you to follow orders? Fuck, shit, feels so good." George tries to say as he felt his own high approaching.

"No, George, I'm being a good gir - ah!" Y/N's body spams over George's intense fucking.

"Come, fuck, come now!" George ordered as he snaps along with Y/N, their cum being mixed together inside of her. George, feeling playful as ever, though both of them sensitive, had given three more slow, hard thrusts to Y/N's pussy, to which she winced, "No, no more."

George laughed and waited for her to come down from her high before pulling out of her. "Aw, and here I was thinking for a round two," he winked at her when their eyes met, "guess not, then."

He was about to stand up when a hand stopped him from doing so, "Wait," Y/N said, "you still have other toys to use on me."

"Baby," he cooed, kissing her on the temples, "we're just getting started."

[peepeepotter]

Late Night Encounters Part 2

Pairing: George Weasley x fem!reader -> Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Warnings: sexual undertones, cursing, sexual tension ??

Word Count: 5.5 k (I got carried away lol!!)

Part 1

“Okay, so here. We’ve got like twenty new options every day. Here are the Daily Prophets from the past week, let’s find someone.” She had seven papers laid out in front of them on the coffee table as they sat on the couch together. She had already gone through and circled all of the ads for girls, and some attractive men in case he was keeping secrets.

“I like being single, I don’t see the issue.” Fred sighed, picking up one of the sheets. He appreciated the way Y/N seemed to color code the girls. He saw one man circled in the group with a question mark over it, causing his brows to furrow. What?

“It was George’s idea. Although, I don’t think I’d complain about you settling down. Maybe we’ll have fewer of our encounters.” She elbowed his side, giggling. “Here, what about her? She’s cute.” She pointed at a french girl who had recently moved to the area. She remembered how much all of the boys her age gawked at the Beauxbaton girls in her fourth year, the twins sixth year. He shrugged.

“Meh. She’s pretty, but look. Her interests are so boring.” Y/N read her interests, which included things such as dragon taming. Her eyes widened.

“You’re joking, right? She’s well travelled and she tames dragons. She’s infinitely more interesting than you’ll ever be.” He attempted to not smile as she glared in confusion. He can’t be serious, right?

“I mean, but look. She likes to read.” He pointed back at the paper, which had been highlighted for people who liked to read. Y/N had color coded all of the paper’s, including highlighting interests and hobbies people had that were similar to Fred’s.

“You like to read.” She furrowed her eyebrows, looking at the paper. She started to worry that she had gotten his interests and hobbies wrong. How could she have? She’s known him for just as long as she’d known George. She might not have liked Fred, but she knew him like the back of her hand.

“Yeah, but only one person in a relationship can be the reader.” Fred stifled his laughter, looking at Y/N with a grin, waiting for her to notice he was fucking with her. He was somewhat impressed by the amount of work she had put into this project George set up. George had made Fred take some time off from the shop to force him and Y/N to spend time together.

“What?” She whipped her head back over to look at him, where he continued grinning at her, waiting for her to realize. “Okay, so you are just fucking with me. Thank Godric, I was really worried for your sanity there for a second. I’ll set you two up.” This allowed him to finally burst into laughter. She rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face. She called the girl, telling her all about Fred and setting up a date for him that night.

“You really think I wouldn’t like her?” He tsked. “She’s marriage material.” He said, reading the other personal ads with a big smirk on his face.

“Woah! What happened to enjoying your single life?” She taunted.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll bring her home tonight and shag her and never see her again.” He didn’t once look up when he said this.

“Frederick Gideon Weasley, you will not.” At this, he looked up, eyes wide.

“Woah, government names, alright. I won’t.” He furrowed his brow.

“The only way you’ll ever love someone is if you establish some sort of relationship with them before you have sex.” Y/N ranted, huffing. She found herself frustrated, thinking of old drama in her own life. You can’t just love someone you barely know.

“I just said I won’t.” Fred put the paper down, resting his chin in his hand while he watched Y/N pace around the room.

“I mean I’m a sucker for some of those tropes but-- wait what? You really won’t?” She quickly looked over at him, stunned. She really thought he would put up a fight. He always put up some sort of fight whenever she asked him to simply keep the sex quieter.

“Yeah, believe it or not I actually do know how to control myself.” He rolled his eyes again.

“Well, good. You just slept with so many girls to piss me off, then.”

“Exactly.”

“Wait, really?”

“Sometimes.”

“You asshole! My sleep schedule is forever fucked because of you!” Fred was nearly bent over from laughing, meanwhile Y/N had her face in her hands.

“Maybe sometimes I just wanted to see your face.” He said through leftover giggles. She rolled her eyes at this.

“Whatever, you hate me, remember?”

“Only occasionally. Whenever you’re telling me what to do,”

“Or sleeping,”

“Or reading,”

“Or minding my own damn business,”

“Or breathing,”

“HEY! Too far, you don’t like me but you don’t want me dead.” She finalized. She and him both knew that. They didn’t like each other, but they didn’t entirely hate each other. They had passing moments like the one they were having at this moment.

“I’m just teasing you, maybe that’s all it’s ever been.” He raised his brows at her, but she once again rolled her eyes.

“Don’t lie to me, I don’t particularly love you, either.” Fred gasped loudly at this comment.

“How could you?” He grabbed his chest where his heart would be and fell over off the couch onto the floor.

“How am I always seen as the drama queen in our...whatever you would call it. Mutual hateship?”

“Frenemies?”

“Too friendly.”

“Mutually-disliking relationship?”

“Eh. A little wordy, but good enough.” She shrugged. “The last girl you dated was like...Angelina Johnson at Hogwarts. Should I be looking for girls like her?”

“You mean gorgeous girls that play quidditch and are smarter than me? No, no, never that.” Fred inspected his nails in his sarcastic voice.

“Alright, noted.” She rolled her eyes, going through papers and circling more girls, color coating them.

“And what do you look for in men? Tall gingers?” He peaked over his newspaper, giggling softly.

“You mean the only man I’ve ever dated? Yes, I suppose.” She laughed too, not looking up from her paper. “Okay pick a few more and we’ll set you up on some dates.” Y/N said, pushing the paper back into his hand as she circled more girls in the paper. Later that night, she made herself dinner as he got ready. He had a bunch of questions, having only ever looked for something casual for a long time. She told him what girls like to hear, what they want to know about a guy before they go on a second date.

“How would you know? You’ve only ever dated one guy.” Fred half-joked.

“I’m still a girl.” She shrugged, knowing what she would want out of a first date. He walked further into the kitchen, leaning onto the counter next to the stove where she boiled herself mac and cheese. She glanced over, remembering the dream she had a few nights previous. She also noticed his crooked tie. “Your tie is crooked.” She looked back down at her mac and cheese as he tried to fix it.

“I haven’t worn one of these in like, eight years?” He asked, looking up for help. She rolled her eyes and straightened out the tie for him. Her stomach hurt, and she hoped she was just hungry. Fred’s stomach hurt, he blamed it on his belt being too tight. “How do I look?”

“Sufficient.” She gave a smirk as she shrugged, he punched her arm lightly. “You look great, you’ll do great. Considering how many girls you bring home each night, you can handle this.” She punched his shoulder lightly back. Now let’s hope he doesn’t fuck it up, she thought.

-

Except, of course, he did. The first date, Fred came back home with a different girl than he went on a date with. Y/N had been waiting in the living room for him to come home. She turned the light on next to her, making Fred jump about three feet in the air.

“Fucking-- what are you doing up?” Fred said with wide eyes, glancing between the girl he had brought home and Y/N.

“We had a deal!” She stood up from her spot on the couch, pointing a finger at him.

“I said I wouldn’t bring home the girl I was on a date with! I never said anything about a different girl.” He quipped with his hands raised in surrender.

“What date?” The blonde next to him glared at him with furrowed brows. Y/N admired her dress and legs. If she and Fred weren't supposed to be doing something, she’d approve.

“Oh, it was just a first date.” He brushed off.

“That you could’ve potentially married!” Y/N accused. It was her mission, after all.

“What?! I’m going home.” The blonde turned around, slamming the door behind her.

“You--you cockblock!” He turned on Y/N, glaring.

“And I’ll continue until we find someone for you to settle down with. Now what happened to the dragon tamer?”

“She thought I was a ‘silly, big, weird baby man,’” He said, using finger quotes around the name she called him. Y/N, trying to keep a straight face, responded with a noise, meaning “keep going.”

“And she outwardly told me this list of quidditch players and other famous wizards she had slept with. I don’t know, I felt compared.” Fred wrinkled his face.

“Oh, buddy,” She frowned, gesturing for him to sit down on the couch next to her. “We can’t all be professional quidditch players.” She pat his back, grinning ear to ear.

“I hate you,” He went to get up, trying to hide his own smile.

“No!” She pulled him by the arm of his suit jacket, having him sit on the couch next to her again. “Let’s just make sure it doesn’t happen again. What didn’t you like about her?” Y/N seemed to conjure a notepad out of nowhere and stared at him, waiting to take notes.

“Godric, you’re such a fucking nerd about this.” He rolled his eyes, she elbowed him in the ribs. “Okay, well I didn’t like being compared to way cooler, better guys than me.” At this, she wrote down ‘lower standards.’ “Also, she travelled a lot. I’m all for travelling, but I do have the shop, so I can’t be doing long distance with anyone.” He shrugged. She nodded, adding it to the list. “Also, she wasn’t from here. Like, that’s not awful, but we just fought a war. I’d appreciate someone who’s a little sympathetic about that.” Y/N nodded, understanding that wholly. It would take more than both hands to count how many times people had been rather intrusive or rude about her moments of PTSD.

“Okay, I’ll fix our list and call the next best girl.” She nodded, walking off into the kitchen while looking at her newspaper. Fred got up and followed her. She was already sitting at the table with two teas and a plate of cookies, eyes narrowed at the papers in front of her. If he didn’t know any better it would look like he had just walked in on an auror looking into an investigation.

“Alright Auror Potter, whaddya got for us?” He put his hands on his knees, squatting slightly to look at the small girl sitting in a chair as though she were a child.

“If you talk to me like I’m a kid, nothing.” She looked up, glaring at him. He giggled, pulling out the chair across from her and drinking the tea.

“Where’s George?” He asked, taking a sip from his dainty, floral mug.

“He got home and crashed like fifteen minutes before you got home.” Y/N wouldn’t look up from her newspaper.

“Seriously? It’s like midnight.” Fred actually checked his watch to make sure he was correct. In actuality, it was 12:06.

“He says he had a lot of stuff to do at the shop.” She shrugged. Her heart hurt. It felt familiar. Fred’s chest tightened, not wanting to push the subject. “Anyway, how are the cookies?”

“Why? Are they the same ones you make that come from the grocery store?” She gasped, looking around as if he had just let everyone in on her big secret.

“How’d you know?!” She asked, suspicious that he had spent too much time in the muggle world.

“I’ve been inside the fridge before.” He laughed, eyebrows furrowed. “Also, believe it or not, I am literate.” He grabbed one of the papers, crossing girls off he had circled previously. He was feeling pickier after his date.

“Well, no, these ones are homemade. For real this time. Try one.” She pushed the cookies towards him, grabbing one for herself. She was quite happy with herself, the cookies had turned out great. They were strawberry meringue, with bits of actual strawberry and mini chocolate chips in them. Their cookies crunched when they took a bite at the same time, tiny pieces of pink meringue scattering across the table top.

“This is delicious.” Said Fred, spraying more pieces of strawberry meringue over the counter top as he hadn’t swallowed before he spoke.

“I know.” Y/N giggled, having swallowed the piece she took a bite of. Fred ate almost the rest of the plate, leaving only one cookie for George. They continued talking about cookies, girls, and Fred’s newfound celibacy.

-

The next night, Fred came home with no girls. However, he wasn’t smiling, either. This time, when Y/N flicked on the light, and Fred jumped, she knew he was just unhappy. Not sad, not angry. Just unhappy.

“Motherfucker-- do you have to keep doing that?” “What happened to the Wizengamot girl?” Y/N asked, frowning. She thought this might’ve been a good match. The girl was a bit serious on the phone, but she thought maybe it would compliment Fred well.

“She was kind of boring. A little stuck up, too. She didn’t like the place we went to and sent her food back. Y/N do you know what she ordered?” Y/N raised her eyebrows, as if to ask ‘what?’ “Tomato soup! Who sends back tomato soup? Who even orders just tomato soup?” He asked, pacing in front of the couch, as if he was genuinely torn up about this. “And all she wanted to do was talk about the war. I don’t want to talk about that! I was in it, I’ve heard enough about it.” He sighed, plopping down in the arm chair across from Y/N.

“Do you want some cookies and tea?” She asked sheepishly. He nodded, they both stood up and went to the kitchen. She already had the tea and cookies ready once again. Fred appreciated that it was a different cookie this time, and that his tea was exactly how he liked it. Tonight’s cookie was a pumpkin snickerdoodle. “There’s some cream cheese frosting, I saw you at the window before I could frost them and I wanted to sneak up on you again.” She admitted, not looking up from her paper as she was too focused. Fred felt the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Why didn’t you just use a spell?”

“I like doing it the muggle way. It’s a good way to relieve stress.” She shrugged, crossing some girls out and circling other girls in the personal ads.

“Why are you stressed?” He asked mindlessly, drinking his tea. She tensed up, he noticed.

“I--uh. I don’t know. Who knows, right? I’m always stressed.” She joked, fake-laughing. He noticed again.

“You know, I hate to cross any boundaries we have here, but you can tell me. Even if it’s about him.” He used his head to gesture towards the ceiling, where George laid asleep. She sighed, shrugging. She stared at the ring on her left ring finger. “Do you think--”

“I don’t think I want to talk about it, yet.” Y/N said, twisting the ring around on her finger. Fred understood, needing time to think about it. “Anyway,” She quickly and casually wiped the corner of her right eye. “She was boring and stuck up? Anything else?”

“She reminded me of Percy.” He wrinkled his nose. Y/N giggled, making a note on her notepad to exclude girls like that. “I’m just...tired of it already. I get why people don’t like dating. This is exhausting. What am I supposed to do with all these stupid facts about girls favorite films and music? Drop it all?”

“Yeah, just forget it all. Think about what kind of films and music the girl you would marry would like.” She shrugged, quill in hand and notepad ready to write. He sighed, not finding it an easy task.

“Something we can watch together. Sometimes things I’ve seen a million times, sometimes new stuff I’ve never heard of. Someone who might know their way around a muggle movie theater.” He listed off. “Romantic comedies; horror movies, but like the really bad ones we could laugh about together but still make you jump sometimes.” They both reminisced to summer nights at the Burrow, where they had had other late-night encounters from being night owls. She smiled softly, wondering if he was remembering those nights, the small nights of peace from when they were young. “Old music, none of that Ke$ha shit I just heard on the muggle radio. I like my grunge bands and--”

“Your dad music.” She laughed, writing it down.

“What?”

“It’s just that your music taste is totally something middle aged muggle dads listen to.” She shrugged, thinking of her own family briefly. He laughed.

“I guess so.”

“Hey Fred?” He made a small noise that meant ‘go on.’ “Why did you start hating me so much? You know,” She wrung her hands, not wanting to admit that his hate for her bothered her. She didn’t like not being liked, especially considering they had been silent friends for a long time before Fred started hating her.

“After the war?” He asked, she nodded. “You just seemed to take everything so well. You seemed so resilient, like we hadn’t almost died together. I had those awful night terrors every night, and you and George kept helping and I-- I don’t know. I guess I wanted to feel resilient, too. I resented you for it.”

“The shower.”

“What?” His eyes bulged immediately.

“The shower. I always cried and screamed in the shower. I didn’t ever want anyone to comfort me, and it made my PTSD a lot worse. Now I feel like all I do is bake. God, I’m turning into--”

“My mum.” He smirked.

“Shut up, yes. It’s how I cope now. It--” She hesitated, looking up from her hands, which she had taken a peculiar interest in. “It just feels like I’m getting through each day. I feel like we lived through this huge thing, and now I can’t even live my life.”

“Why do you think I haven’t settled down?” He mumbled.

“Really?” She furrowed her eyebrows, curious.

“Sometimes it just feels like...what’s the point? What if we end up in another war?” He was staring off into the corner of the kitchen, likely remembering the wall that fell on both of them.

“You know, I go to therapy.” She shrugged. “Maybe you should, too.” He nodded, wondering if there were wizard therapists. “Yes there are wizard therapists.” She sighed, smiling.

“Did I say it out loud?”

“No, I just know you.” She shrugged. “I hope you resent me a little less, now.” She smiled at him.

“Well, why didn’t you like me?”

“Because George tells you everything, and he trusts you so much. He didn’t tell me about...you know...until way after it happened. Sometimes I still get upset when I remember that you knew for so long.”

“What are you talking about? I found out like, maybe a day before you.” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Wh-why would George tell me you knew?” She furrowed her brow too. They stared at each other in confusion.

“Maybe we have two missions.” Fred smirked, holding his hand out. “Let’s make a deal. You get me a date to the wedding and we find out what George is hiding.” She shook his hand, avoiding the thought that what they find out could potentially call off the wedding.

-

The following night, Fred came home, looking somewhat blue once again. Y/N flicked the light on, and he turned on her quickly.

“I expected it this time, fucker!” He laughed, somewhat manically. She giggled.

“And how was the bank girl?” She asked kindly, standing up and following Fred to the kitchen. Tonight she had made cream horns. They were long, thin cookies that served as a wrapper around a creamy filling. Fred loved it, it reminded him of a butter cookie his mom made when they were kids, but had stopped making over time as they were ‘a pain in the ass’ to make.

“She was fine, I guess.” He said with a cookie in his mouth, she laughed. It seemed like it would be a nightly occurrence that he would talk with food in his mouth. “I’m pretty sure she stopped listening to you after you said Weasley, because she definitely thought this was going to be a blind date with Bill.” He scrunched up his face in disgust at the thought.

“Oh, but I told her a bunch about you.” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, upset.

“Well, it’s not your fault she was obsessed with him. I’m pretty sure she only works at Gringotts on the off chance she’ll meet him one day.”

“Doesn’t he work in Egypt?”

“Not anymore, ever since Victoire was born. Still,” He paused having to think hard of what his sibling was doing. “I don’t even know if he still works for Gringotts, honestly.” He furrowed his eyebrows. He was starting to realize he didn’t know a whole lot about his siblings that were far away. He knew literally everything about George, he even had a hunch about what suspicious thing George was up to.

“Maybe you should spend some time with your other siblings.” She chuckled, sipping her tea. Tonight, she wasn’t looking at the paper. She decided she would set up the date in the morning, and that she could spend this time with Fred. He propped his head up on his left hand, watching Y/N. His chest felt tight.

“Maybe.” He shrugged, ignoring the feeling arising in his stomach. “I grew up with them, so you know, I don’t really need to.”

“Well you went to school with me,” She giggled, rolling her eyes. “And it feels like we spend every waking moment together.” She drank from her floral tea cup. It had been a gift from Hermione when she moved in with the boys. Something to remind you of yourself.

“Because we have! It’s already been three days! And we haven’t fought in so long.” He grinned, reaching across the table to punch her on her shoulder with his right hand.

“So long! Three days! It’s almost like that last summer before the war.” She rested her head on her right hand to mirror Fred. She remembered watching John Hughes movies, laughing and making fun of awful jokes and bad scares in horror movies, feeling tired but not wanting to sleep. Feeling afraid she would wake up the next day and have no one, not even her quiet bordering-on-friendship with Fred, because she’d wake up and everyone would be dead.

“You mean when we would stay up all night and sleep all day while George ran the shop.” Fred fluttered his eyelids closed, thinking about that summer. They switched who would pick the movie each night. Halfway through the night they’d get hungry and Y/N would make them something to eat. It was when he realized he actually really liked Y/N. During the war, things got bad, because he remembered that even though they had their sweet late-night moments, she wasn’t his. It hurt him, back then.

“And we never argued. Not until the war started.” She smiled softly. “But then again, everyone fought when the war started.” She shrugged, thinking about the stories Hermione had told her about the arguments she and Harry and Ron had had out in their tent in the middle of nowhere. Fred didn’t want to tell her that he only fought with her to push her away. What he said about hating her after the war was true. He didn’t really hate her until after they nearly died together. Even then, he just resented her.

“I’m sorry.” He said. He didn’t whisper it. He didn’t look down. He just spoke evenly, and apologized. Y/N was surprised, because Fred had never really apologized to her before. She was also used to the way George apologized. Head hung, no eye contact. She rarely could ever even hear his apology. She smiled at Fred.

“I’m sorry, too.” She thought she might tear up, but it was out of joy. For once Fred had her crying out of joy.

“Oh, fuck, did I do something?” He asked, seeing her glossy eyes. She rubbed her eyes, shaking her head.

“No, you idiot. I’m just glad we’re good now.” She sniffled. He attempted to hold back his grin, but couldn’t.

“I guess I am too.” He sighed as if it was a chore to share his feelings. She laughed and reached across the table to punch his shoulder lightly. “Anyway...where’s George tonight?” He whispered, almost as if raising his voice any higher could break her.

“Upstairs, asleep. He got home earlier than last night. Like 8:30.” She shrugged. “But he went to bed pretty soon after he got home.”

“And how are you?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged truthfully. “I’m just tired of eating dinner alone.” She sighed, crossing her arms on the table and setting her head on top. Fred didn’t know what to say. He’d felt that way before he had started sleeping with women every night. He understood, but this was a different situation.

“Well, at least you never have to eat dessert alone.” He smiled warmly. She lifted her head just enough so she could see him. She smiled into her arms, but her eyes gave her away to Fred.

“Yeah, at least I’ve got my late night encounter buddy.” She lifted her head fully off of her arms.

“I have a secret,” Fred whispered. Y/N cupped her hand behind her ear to show she was listening. “I can bug his phone.” Her eyes widened. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to invade George’s privacy like that. The second she started shaking her head he waved her off. “I already did, I just wanted to see your reaction.” She gasped.

“Frederick Gideon Weasley!!” She wacked his arm across the table

-

The next night, Y/N had the light on when Fred came home. She felt bad scaring him so much the nights before. That night Fred came home in a good mood, and then she realized he was drunk! He was just a happy drunk!

“Frederick!” She furrowed her eyebrows, standing up.

“Shhh, Y/N will hear!” He rushed over giggling, putting his hands over her mouth, she smiled against the palm of his hand. She pried one of his hands away from her mouth, grabbing it and dragging him into the kitchen.

“Sit down, drink your tea, and eat your cookies.” She pointed a stern finger at him. She had made double chocolate and mint chip cookies. Fred thought he could die at how good they tasted, he decided these definitely had to be his favorite, but he was afraid of getting in trouble for making noise.

“Pssttt…” He whispered, not so quietly, she looked up, trying not to grin at his behavior. “These are really good. Like really good. These are my favorites, you should bring these to Christmas dinner.” He whispered loudly, eyes wide like a childs. Y/N had a strange warm feeling in her chest she hadn’t felt in a long time. George wasn’t like this when he drank, he just got tired and passed out on any flat surface.

“Thank you, Fred.” She smiled softly at him, he smiled at her with a cookie in his mouth, making her laugh as she handed him his tea. “Now, can you tell me what you liked and disliked about the girl this time? How was the date?”

“Uhhh, she was fine. She was, like, really into quidditch. I’m into quidditch, but like...but like she was, like, really into it. You know? Like she reminded me of some losers in your class.” She knew he was referencing Ron, and she rolled her eyes.

“You mean your brother?”

“How dare you correctly assume that! That’s my brother, only I can call him a loser.” He grinned, sipping his tea. She liked drunk Fred, because it was just normal Fred with a couple less brain cells.

“Alright, alright, I’ll just leave you in here on your own to bully your siblings by yourself.”

“No!!” He pulled on her sleeve as she tried to exit the kitchen, she was laughing, and came to sit down across from him again. “Anyway, I couldn’t focus very well on her. So maybe she was just trying to fill the silence.” He shrugged. “And I got drunk, so there’s that.” He put a hand on his chin in thought.

“Why couldn’t you focus?”

“I think George is cheating on you.” He said bluntly. She raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh.”

“Y/N, I don’t understand you at this point,” He sighed heavily, slamming his head on the table. You cringed, knowing it would hurt in the morning. “You stay with him, but he’s done it before. I bet it’s with her again--”

“Fred, I don’t think I want to talk about it.” Y/N wrung her hands out.

“You want to know why I resent you? You treat yourself terribly.” He was entirely too calm. “You should’ve left the last time.”

“Don’t tell me what to do with my relationship!”

“I care about you! I’m telling you what your friends didn’t! Everyone said save the relationship because they all married the people they dated in school, but there’s no rule that says you have to do that! Look at me!”

“Yeah, look at you, completely heartbroken over the fact that your brother is fucking the girl you dated in school.”

“I don’t care about that anymore! You’re so stupid sometimes!” He yelled drunkenly, with tears in his eyes. “You’re like no one I’ve ever met before. How do you do that? How are you so different?”

“Don’t pull one of those ‘you’re not like other girls’ things.” She laughed, trying to distract herself.

“No, you’re like every other girl, but you’re you. And you have your experiences, and you might do everything all those other girls do, but you do it for different reasons, just like all of those girls do. Nobody’s the same.” He furrowed his eyebrows, a little confused at his own wording.

“Fred Weasley, did you just...respect women in front of me?”

“I respect the hell out of women!”

“Okay, okay! Sorry!” She giggled, putting her hands up in defense.

“I just...why don’t you respect yourself?” He asked calmly again. Y/N stared off into the corner of the kitchen.

“What if my whole life falls apart without you guys in it? What if I don’t know who I am apart from George?”

“Merlin, Y/N I know who you are apart from George and I’ve only spent a couple days with you. Well...and a couple years, I guess.” He shrugged. “You’re this gorgeous, intelligent, little tiny nerd.”

“I get it, I’m small.”

“Shh! You’re a small little baby nerd. And you’re good at art and you’re so poetic. You stress bake, and you cook when you’re happy and stressed. You make the best cookies in the world. You’re considerate, because you’re nice to me when I’m mean to you and you memorized the way I take my tea and I had no idea. You love those stupid cliche romantic comedies but you get so embarrassed any time anyone makes one of those big gestures in a crowd. You’re disappointed that George proposed to you, you’re disappointed in the way he did it, and you’re disappointed that he did it just to get away with cheating on you. And you know he did, and you’ve known for a lot longer than I have, because you’re smarter than everyone in this house.”

“Fred, there’s only two people in this house.”

“Well, I’m pretty smart, so it’s still a feat.” He grinned, grabbing her hand from across the table. He took the ring off, and set it on the table next to the window. “Just think about confronting him. I’m not saying you have to. Just...consider it.”

taglist: @fredshufflepuff @melonoptimist @phelps-weasley-twins @maybeisthemoon @groovynachos @katllol @manuosorioh @brownieparker @superblyspeedydragon @packmentalityx

[masivechaos]

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eddie munson x fem! reader | reader is new in hawkins high

remus lupin x reader | series- reader is the owner of a coffee shop

sirius x gn! reader | sirius likes to speak french to annoy you

☆ about me:

my name is Margot, i use every pronoun, i'm a french person so i'm sorry if i make some mistakes in my fics. I'm neurodivergent so sorry if i talk too much oops. I write depending on my current hyperfixations. my stories will always contain happy/recomforting endings, they are supposed to be an escape so no sad endings :)

currently reading: girl in pieces by kathleen glasgow

a few things i like: dead poets society, beabadoobee, emily henry’s books, criminal documentaries, drawing, iced latte, the smiths, plants, forgetting to drink water (jk i’m gonna die from dehydration one day) 🫶

my dms are open if you want to talk (keep in mind that i’m not a therapist) or make friends! i like to meet new people (but scared oops) and don't hesitate to tag me (even we aren't mutual etc) if you want me to read your fics, watch your edits…

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if you're racist, homophobic, sexist, if you discriminate anyone...

basic dni

☆ characters i write for:

if i write a sibling!reader or child!reader, reader is adopted!

marauders era:

romantic: remus lupin, sirius black, james potter, regulus black, marlene mckinnon, lily evans

platonic: poly!marauders, wolfstar!dads, jily!parents, jegulus!dads

golden era:

romantic: fred weasley, george weasley, nymphadora tonks

the maze runner:

romantic: gally, minho, newt

platonic: chuck

stranger things:

romantic: eddie munson, steve harrington, robin buckley

platonic: hopper!dad, max mayfield, dustin henderson

dead poets society:

romantic: charlie dalton, knox overstreet, todd anderson, neil perry, steven meeks, gerard pitts, richard cameron

☆ types i write:

fluff

angst to fluff/hurt to comfort

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[siriusmydeer]

george weasley smut alphabet

george weasley x fem!reader

warnings: at this point i don’t even know what to write, seggsy things

a/n: that took 3 days holy shit

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

ok molly taught him to be respectful alright, always treat your lady well. kisses, showering, praise, love, affection, cuddles. the whole nine yards, not one step left behind.

“c’mon, dove, y’gotta get up. please, f’me?” the boy slightly-slurred, pulling up your hair slightly damp from sweat, grasping it all into double french braids. showering you, meanwhile showing you immense praise and affection; kissing from your ankle points all the way to the apple of your cheeks, and dressing you in the process.

“mhmm, don’t wanna.” you proceeded to mumble, your body begging you to sleep and rest; feeling immense of exhaustion from previous rounds. finishing the braid in your hair, the red head picked you up and placed you onto the red-plaid comforter of the bed.

your body starting to meld with the mattress, and breathing becoming heavier almost delving your subconscious into the realm of sleep; feeling him slip under you and place your head right on his bare skin, feeling the bone of his sternum.

“did i... did i do well?” you murmured through fatigue, yearning to feel the warmth and affection of your boyfriend while his heart beat lulled you like a baby from a lullaby to a deep hearted sleep.

“you’ll always do perfect for me, forever ‘n ever.”

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

ok so, he loves his hands. they’re big, and skinny, and his fingers are long. i mean he catches you looking at them all the time so it also happens to be a nice ego boost. george’s self esteem has kinda always been there but it hasn’t been amazing, but when you came in the picture then it was like 📈

“george, georgie, please. s’too much, too much.” your vision had been immensely bleary for the last few minutes due to pleasureful tears dripping from your waterline. your fingers tried to find the closest thing they could grapple at, george’s hands.

after three continuous rounds, george had been finger fucking you for the last thirty minutes pushing you to vast overstimulation. you had the feeling of pins and needles dance upon your cunt; the waves of pain and pleasure mixing into your nervous system and sprawling throughout your entire body.

you grasped ahold of his ivory-toned hand, trying to beg for his mercy; yet none was shown, this was your punishment. he reclined his hand that had a tense hand on your thigh, now directly on your abdomen pressing you back onto the messy comforter bed keeping his hand placed there.

seeing the arch of your spine in his direct view, seeing your face slightly contort in delectation as he hit the g-spot with the pads of his fingers. feeling the intense pride on how he could get you, so delighted and filled with pleasure at his decree.

“taking it like such a good girl, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

he likes tits, i mean... HE GIVES THE VIBE. like if he could he would hold them, squish them, kiss them, mark them in anyway he wanted FOREVER. which he would, but he couldn’t 24/7 so he took his opportunities when he could.

“hello george, how are you? i’m great, thanks for asking.” you chortled with intense sarcasm after your boyfriends sudden disruption from your reading and dramatically bursting into your dormitory and shoving his face into your chest beneath your his t-shirt.

“shhh, i need a minute of peace please.” he hushed you, feeling his lips suck a little on the flesh of your sternum, his voice incredibly muttered from the smothering of your boobs onto his mouth. feeling the vibrations from his lips send a mini-shockwave through your spine and attempting to repress an overdue shiver.

he left light kisses, from his previous red splotch, as he moved more underneath your shirt praising your skin as you chuckled a bit. his ginger hair tickled your neck as he continued, “my tits are peaceful?” you questioned, yet again in a sarcastic tone awaiting his response.

“yea, immensely.”

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person) (isa i could kiss u for this one)

so, messy messy man. on your tits, on your thighs, on your face, on your STOMACH, on your ass and his fave.... inside of you <3 he just loves to see it on you, it turns him on again no matter how many times you’ve been at it.

que: birth control potions, because i’m pretending they exist and creampies are fun.

“gonna— gonna finish, where d’you want me?” the boy heaved while doing continuous thrusts deep into the walls of your cunt. furthering your grasp onto the clenched biceps and forearms that laid tense beside your perspired face.

“inside me, please. want it inside me.” your voice was winded and huffed, feeling the euphoric pleasure crinkle and bend onto your nervous system from your orgasam lull you into a relaxation, while your boyfriend continued to thrust into your overused cunt of the night.

feeling his tepid release stick into the planes of your thighs and a light sheen layer onto the lower abdomen of your torso. feeling the dripping of his cum directly laid upon your skin. the contrast between his release and your flesh looking almost exquisite in his view point.

you were so beautiful, so beautifully messy.

currently clenched around his prick you felt the tremble in his cock as he released into the velvet walls of your cunt, remaining inside of you as he caught his breath between his lungs from his swift thrusts.

“gonna keep you all full, yeah?”

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

george is in fact, a switch. like when he’s dom, he’s soft dom. but when he’s sub, he’s whiny and extremely forward in begging. it took him awhile to tell you because he felt embarrassed but after that you guys had a lot of... fun ;)

“please, please, ‘m sorry. i promise!” he griped, pulling on the silk on his restraints regulating the control of his wrists that laid on his lower back. “but georgie, isn’t this what you wanted? to be punished?” you sent a faux pout in his direction, your finger tips dancing upon his clenched torso once again edging the boy upon his ration.

“but, but—“ the boy faltered whilst speaking, trying to excuse his actions of venturing to grasp your attention whilst you were busy with another task, and disregarding you both friends pleas. “c’mon, georgie. you were bad, this is your punishment; if i hear anymore you won’t cum for a week.” you chastised, seeing his eyes widen in fright and obnoxiously nod his head in compliance.

your brought your hand back to his prick, thumb slightly outlining the slit in his tip; his most sensitive spot causing a small groan to escape his lips subconsciously, his back slightly melding off of the mattress and arching into the air at your pressure.

attempting to repress his pleasureful shivers that were scratching at his sensorium, his cock basically at your dictation for his release.

“you’re being punished, not pleasured.” you chastised once again, sprawling you hand on his abdomen pushing his back directly onto the ridged comforter once more.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

so people would agree to disagree, but george lost it first. i don’t think george would do one night stands, they were always with past girlfriends but you are the girl he truly put his all into.

“and you’re sure?” the boys frantically questioned once more, he had been previously skittish about if the both of you were ready to go into the next stage of your relationship; wanting your full consent to continue with anything.

and worrying that some kinks he had in mind might’ve been to much for future references, and just yearning for you to feel as comfortable as possible.

“told you, georgie, i want all of you.” the question was heaved through your words from the foreplay that had taken a gust of your air right out from under of you.

“we’ve talked about this darling, ‘m ready.” adding on to your comment, reassuring the boy who seemed to be faintly timorous on his next action that was soon to take place. you caressed his forearm, feeling the rigid bends of his veins over the pads of your finger tips. your other hand maneuvering itself on the curvature of his neck and bringing his lips to slot with your own.

feeling the comforting and familiar taste of pumpkin and cinnamon transfuse onto your tongue in the midst of feeling his plush lips blend with yours.

“i’m ready, want you inside of me.”

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

any position where he can see your face, he can see your body, he can see all of you. he wants to kiss you, mark you, caress you. he wants everything he wants to feel so connected with you.

“you my darling.” he spoke, sighing as he spoke. in between words of his affirmations, splotching small kisses that bore on the planes of your lower abdomen and shifting his way up your bare-body.

“are the most ethereal thing, to ever exist.” the boy continued in his wake of appraisal, of your complete quintessence and soul.

“i love you.” you whispered in a small, barely audible murmur in appreciation of the red head you had been destined with. he was truly put in your path of life to give and receive love and adoration. “i love you.” the boy whispered back at your confession, muffled into the flesh above your sternum.

continuing to leave small vermillion hues of colour, making his way to the the junction of your neck and resuming with his praises of adorations of your complete essence.

the scarlet-haired boy was completely entranced with every element of your being, almost besotted with your every move. always wanted to praise, and adore every aspect of you in anyway he could possible.

“no, i love you more.” he corrected himself, undeserving of your mutual appreciation.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

healthy use of both. sometimes you guys have your super serious moments and other times you guys are giggling together.

“oh merlin, i really hope fred did not hear that.” you spoke through a sporadic chortle, your previous whimper being a little bit too raucous. the both of your wands misplaced and unable to cast a muffling charm meant you and george had to be as quiet as possible.

“y/n, he definitely did. let’s hope he’s asleep.” george making an effort to whisper but his own disgustingly humours mind getting too himself and letting chuckle slip out from his lips mid-sentence.

“i didn’t say stop, keep going!” you hastily spoke, sending a cheeky grin in faux annoyance at him as he continued his slow but intensely deep thrusts in your pulsing cunt, the both of you close to a release.

you were deeply trying to muffle your pleasureful noises from the palm of your hand, but discreetingly failing as you let another strangled moan bubble from your vocal cords.

both you and george looking at eachother frantic for a moment, completely silent and worried if one of his dorm mates had heard the both of you. silent for a moment then chuckling together whilst bumping noses at the voyeuristic acts that were being taken place in his very bed.

“oi, some of us are trying to sleep here!”

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

yes the fucking carpet matches the damn drapes HE HAS A CARROT CROTCH DO NOT TELL ME OTHERWISE. as for grooming, i think he just just have a stubble? like i don’t feel like he cares to much about hair so he would just shave most of it off. as for u he does not give a fuck, as long as you like yourself he likes you so it does not matter at all for him.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

ITS GEORGE WEASLEY IF UR NOT EXPECTING ROMANCE AND INTIMACY 89% OF THE TIME GO REEVALUATE. i’m not saying he’s not rough or not kinky, but he’s very intimate with you especially during aftercare. if he’s feeling special, like on anniversaries, birthdays, or days he wanted to make you feel really really good he would bring out rose petals, floating candles i mean he would WHIP OUT A LAVENDER OIL DEFUSER OR SOMETHING?

the floor was coated in tons vermillion bloomed rose petals, the scent of cinnamon and fresh linnen was intense through the air of the newly-cleaned dormitory, the fresh ivory bed made and the pillows slightly puffed to perfection.

“just, y’know, one last birthday surprise?” the red-head boy muttered staring at the scarlet-shaded floors whilst attempting to distract himself by fumbling his clammy hands into the pockets of his overworn grey slacks.

“d’you like it?” george continued to mutter, his eyes staggering around the room he had prepared for you both that night so he could kiss, cherish and adulate your entire being till the depths of early morning sunrise.

“georgie, i— i love it.” you felt perspiration sting in the waterlines of your eyes as you stammered slightly in shock, intense adoration and tenderness hastily speeding through your bloodstream hitting you directly into the warmth of your heart.

facing said-boy, you looked at him with complete fondness, grasping upon of his hand that was resting in his slacks now in the palm of your own comically-smaller hand.

“it’s truly amazing.”

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

gonna be honest here, not really. unless he wasn’t seeing you for like weeks, like during a holiday or something. even then i feel like he would imagine you were doing it to him, like whenever he was feeling needy he would normally just go to you and you were more than happy to oblige to his request.

“oh— fuck me.” the boy groaned while stroking his cock in quick circular motions, the other hand preoccupied with a risqué polaroid photo of you that you had sent him in the mail during the winter holidays.

it wasn’t the easiest being away from him during the winter holidays and his randomly occurring hard-ons apparently happened to occur more frequently without a desirable girlfriend around and more time to use your undesirable hand.

attempting to finish himself off fairly quickly so he could scoundrel himself back to bed counting the days till you would dramatically reunite on the hogwarts express and more than likely pull you away from peering eyes for a quickie in the bathroom.

just the thought of your beautiful skin melding with his own in the humid air of the bathroom made him spurt his release all over his prick and a groan emerging from his throat in the process.

“fuck.”

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

he has a innocence kink.... like the thought of teaching you everything like in bed makes his mind go WEEE WOO WEEE WOOO

now i shall elaborate

“pretty girl, does it feel good?” he crooned into the shell of your ear, feeling the tense grasp of your agile hands on his clothed biceps where his dress shirt laid on him and suddenly crinkled from your clasp onto him.

“mhm— yes, yes georgie.” you gasped mid sentence, trying to catch your breath from the new sensations that had washed over your nerves, feeling new pleasureful burning sensations in the pit of your abdomen and run along the curvature of your spine.

attempting to suppress small moans you continued petite chokes of air in ecstasy feeling george’s pads of his fingers dance upon your clit. “oh— fuck.” you muttered in a form of a bleary headspace trying to manage a coherent thought.

the red-head grinned in gratification, your full pleasure at his decree, knowingly giving you these new sensations. “i thought you were an innocent girl, now you’re my dirty one?” the boy mocked at your trembling figure in his lap.

“maybe you’re not my innocent girl after all.”

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

in my head.... he likes voyerism. don’t ask me why but the thrill of someone catching y’all 🤪

so i will no would have to say that he likes his dormitory a lot but i also feel like he likes the common room couch.

“oh, fuck—“ the moan has blossomed out of your throat and tinged in the previously solemn and peaceful common room, but now the air felt humid and extremely titillating common room that had been used for social and cuticular activities now being used for intercourse.

“darling if you’re not quiet we’re going to be caught.” the vibrations of his words directly muffled onto your perspired flesh, due to his manipulation of your body strictly at his will. “so good, daddy, so so good.” the words mildly uttered from your throat due to the infrequent gasps of pleasure between your words.

the both of you fused together passionately on the snug common room sofa in the late hours of the night, to be caught in a very comprising position by a student or supervisor if not subtle enough. the fire being your only production of light source throughout the entire room, dismissed in the backround close to being burnt out entirely.

“but daddy, you make me feel so good.” you’re voice tinged into a slightly higher pitch, feeling his deep thrusts enclosed inside of your cunt, your attempted muffles of rising gasps and lament whimpers to be heard significantly prominent throughout the walls of the vermillion shaded common room.

“awe slut, you want everyone to know how i’m making you feel?”

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

so since georgie is a switch i feel like most of his motivation comes from when you’re bossy, outside of the bedroom. telling him what to do, how to do it, having to fix it for him. because either he’s gonna punish you for thinking you can be in charge or he’s gonna do literally everything you tell him too without a second thought.

“ok so for today, we’re not playing around here, you finish your charms, then we have lunch, we do transfiguration together, play some quidditch with fred, eat dinner, and then free period to do whatever we want, got it?” your hastily speeding voice catching the attention of his ears and consuming every single word that you had to say.

you glanced at him for a moment, his eyes slightly out of zone but still attentive to your words, also wanting to distinguish if he had been following to the list you had for the day so he could ultimately stop procrastinating and get his work done.

“yeah, er, i got it.” george spoke awkwardly for a moment, trying to discreetly shuffle around his body at the feeling of immense amount of pressure and tensity starting to form around his groin.

you raised a brown, you’re forehead slightly creasing as you tested the waters at his slightly timid figure and lack of response. “do i need to make you repeat it back to me.” tilting your head, trying to pan off as more intimidating so the red-head would coherently listen to you rather than pawn off and work on a prank with his mischievous-twin.

“no, no— i’m fi— you’re fine.” he groaned and he hesitated mid-sentence aiming to speak as casually as possible, moderately shuffling around his pants as he spoke at your firm and unyielding tone with him.

“you’re sure? because if you’ve got it wrong i’m going to upset, got it?” your voice at an adamant expression, annunciating that everything for the day was going to be smooth sailing rather than difficult and irritating for either of you.

“no, i understand.” he cleared his throat in compliance, aiming to remove any unnerving tension that might be there as he awkwardly trailed behind you to the library.

not to mention with a rock hard cock just sitting in his plants.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

threesomes. “bUt pArIs” NO. he would not want to share you, he had literally had to share everything his whole life and seeing his twin brother or literally anyone else pleasure you is a big fat NONO

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

he’s a giver, if u say no, ur lying. hearing you go literally whimper, tremble, moan at HIS will that’s enough for him to cream his pants.

“georgie— fuck. keep going.” your praised the boy deep between your legs, your words of appraisal going straight to his groin area whilst you threaded you fingers directly into his damp ginger locks.

feeling his tongue swirl directly onto your engorged clit, small gasps emitting from your mouth as his face was buried into your cunt for the last hour. the exceedingly amount of ecstasy built up into a broiling pit in your belly and ready to explode at any given moment.

“‘m gonna cum, gonna finish.” you gasped, feeling his tongue prodding at your entrance, his thumb placed directly onto your swollen cunt and swirling in figure eight like motions to make your orgasam rapidly occur.

his prick immensely hard, beseeching for a release. his nearest output being the subtle grind of his hips and the soft mattress of the bed as you continued to sensually yank at his hair.

feeling the overflow of desire, the whimpers exceeding from your lips and the pressure against his cock made his orgasam occur midst your own; finishing together the only thing to be heard was your heaving breaths and george’s hoarse voice from not speaking for the last while.

“so, i might’ve just done something.”

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

i feel like he’s very medium paced, he’s not to fast nor slow. he has his moments where it’s very slow and loving or if he just lost a quidditch game and it’s very fast in rough. i don’t think it’s set on just one i think it varies.

“needy little slut, just wanted me so badly, hmm?” the grit in george’s teeth prominent as he spoke to you, the tensity of his hands on grip of your waist also clinically distinguished as he pulsed in and out of your from behind.

“fuck— please.” the begging was evident in your tone, feeling the grasp on your waist and he plunged into you emitting gasps every few seconds from desire. his hand grasped onto the root of your tresses, your cheek melding with the mattress and a moan exploding from your trachea at his aggressive demeanour.

“please—“ you continued you beg, not for anything in specific but the feeling of him to continue his thrusts and not falter his pace. the feeling of being exceedingly full of him, the explicit belligerent emotion he was feeling and turning that into passion.

knees bucking at his will as he continued the fast and thrown pace that was previously endured. feeling the ecstasy rome freely through your veins as he degraded you.

“my slut, so dirty.”

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

so... george wants to appreciate you fully. and i don’t think either of you would be so horny that he had to just pull you in a broom closet. even if it’s fast and rough aftercare is still extremely keen to him after having sex no matter the circumstances so i don’t think he would be into quickies.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) - this was in fact somewhat inspired by 50 shades of grey

george is the kinkier twin. there i said it, and i will not change my mind. yeah he’s more quiet whatever more emotional, throughful BUT THOSE ARE ALWAYS THE ONES WHO ARE KINKIER. i so as long as you were cool with it i feel like he would be as-well.

“so you wanna play, dove?” running the tip of the small blade down the depth of your torso, and across your abdomen seeing the heaving rise and fall of your torso. the slight scarlet-coloured ribbon peaking from underneath the arch of your back that restrained both of your wrists.

“yes, sir.” the mumble was stern, and tense but slightly heaved from apprehension on what he would do with the tip of the stygian-coloured blade that was held in his ivory hand. your safe word explicitly-clear before he had restricted your eyesight.

a slow light vermillion trailed in its wake from the tip of the blade that moved across the skin of your navel. he heard the audible gasp release from your mouth in anticipation.

“keep going, please.”

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

so i feel like george goes for like.... 3? but he definitely does foreplay and stuff too. so it’s like a healthy mix of a lot. so a couple of rounds, sometimes more, sometimes less, it all depends on the time like early in the morning or really late at night.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

so, i don’t think so. so the only thing i feel like he would have is like ropes/ties and blindfolds. other than that i don’t think so, but fred has definitely gifted you something just for the kick of it all.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

i feel like it depends if he’s more sub or more dom. if he’s dom he will tease you all he likes just to see you squirm, but if he’s sub then he definitely will wants you to tease him.

“georgie, please, i cant take it anymore.” you pleaded, your tone was soft but irritated, the continuous edging was extremely displeasing for you. you wanted him, you wanted to feel every withering inch of him, his body, his essence; but he simply wouldn’t give it to you.

“c’mon, weren’t you the one who ‘said patience is a virtue.’ you’ve got to be patient then, right dove?.” george made a mockery of something you had in a different context but instead he used it to his advantage.

his middle finger crept its way back to the depth of your navel and right on your cunt, starting recurrent swirls on your engorged clit. feeling a similar sensation that you had previously endured till your denied orgasam.

“be patient, or you won’t be getting anything.”

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

i feel like it’s a lot of grunting and dirty talk, or even just praising. there’s more moaning when doing oral. it’s not necessarily loud but you can clearly hear it.

“my pretty little witch.” the words of appraisal blossomed from his mouth as he kissed upon the column of your neck and the bend of your shoulders. he proceeded to kiss around the shell of your ear and speaking.

“nobody can make me feel the way you can.” george murmured making sure you know, followed by a pleasureful grunt by the way your cunt was continuously clenching around his cock and the way your hand grasped at his lower back.

“oh, merlin—“ your voice sounded like a gasp, arching your back directly into his freckled chest from his prick prodding at your cervix, you’re breathing was heaved from his continuous thrusts that faltered as he was close to release and exceedingly praised into your perspired skin.

“i love you so much.”

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

george likes pda. i’m not talking like sex in the great hall or obnoxiously making out in the courtyard but he does like to show everyone that you are together.

“georgie if you kiss me again fred is going to throw up.” the murmur sent vibrational waves into the boys cheek your own affections shown at the proximity between you both, partly because the incessant chatter of the great hall.

“and? you’re my girl.” the statement was clear as day in his eyes, he wanted to show everyone just how much he loved you, the intimacy in the situation between two teenagers who were in love; he didn’t care what anyone else had to say.

you looked at him for a moment with challenging eyes, seeing the intimacy in his own cocoa-coloured ones. poorly making an effort to suppress a grin at his affections.

he took his opportunity to press a kiss to your plush-smooth lips, then the hued rose coloured flesh on your cheek, then the tip of your pointed nose.

“i love you, i won’t not show that because my git brother doesn’t like it.”

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

i feel like it’s a bit bigger than average, probably around 8in when hard? i think it’s more longer than thicker.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

i mean..... he’s a teenage boy. i think it’s average like i don’t think he’s dying to have sex every second but he does in-fact like to appreciate you in more ways that one. because sex for him isn’t just a way to get rid of a hard on it’s a way to appreciate your body and just you in general.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

i feel like it depends on how hard the both of you went, because you guys could either end up talking for hours or simply just cuddle and fall asleep.

“‘m so tired, georgie.” you murmured into the boys bare chest, stroking the side of his torso as the both of you laid below his his fitted sheet bed. the time around twelve am and your eyes desperate for sleep.

“sleep, darling. i’ll be here in the morning to wake you up.” he uttered. his voice fairly hoarse and rough, whilst stroking your back feeling the wrinkle in the shirt he had given you. fairly prideful that you had been wearing something of his.

“love you, georgie” you wiped your nose while speaking, feeling love and adorned by the boy you were cuddling with; wanting these solemn peaceful moments forever.

“love you more, forever ‘n ever.”

taglist: @ronbrokemyheart @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @famdomhideout @hufflepogue

[parchmentedpetrichor]

➳braids & nail polish ♡

in which ginny and molly weasley bump into ginny's best friend with the prettiest french braids and her sister, who braided them. a year after the war. fred lives. through the eyes of the youngest weasley, both fred and y/n l/n's old childhood crushes on each other resurface.

fred weasley x fem!reader

reader is not a gryffindor. sorry to my gryffindor kin out there:)

word count: ±4.2k

tw: braiding hair, nail polish, nothing too out there, little bits of swearing, teasing, so much flusteredness and sarcasm

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. molly weasley's matchmaking skills

i do my hair toss

check my nails

baby how you feelin'?

feeling good as hell

braids & nail polish

"hello, you have pretty hair today!" grace, one of my best friends, also 17, states bluntly, "look at mine!" she changes her hair colour. we giggle together and she catches the attention of mum.

mum and i are shopping in the muggle mall, they call it. it has lots of things i never thought existed, like stores filled with clothes. we didn't used to be able to afford it, but ever since the twin's business went crazy and mum and dad invested in it, we've got so much more money to go around.

the twins sent mum and i shopping here, and george suggested with advice from angelina that we get some things to treat ourselves with.

"grace, have you seen the basket? i think i lost it!" a voice pops out around grace l/n and i see the familiar face of the head girl from a few years ago, "oh, hey! ginny weasley, mrs weasley, fancy seeing you two here!"

mum is smiling. "i told you to call me molly, y/n."

y/n l/n. she's still extremely famous for getting the top marks in all of defence against the dark arts history.

"what are you guys doing here? other than shopping, i mean," y/n laughs.

she was always like a big sister to all the girls in hogwarts. she gave out the best advice. i can back that. she gave me advice on how to deal with boys ('it's normal to like different boys, but never ever forget yourself ginny. what do you want to do?'). i've never forgotten it. it helped me through the stuff with harry and dean and michael.

"well the twins told us to get out of the house. not in that way, but- oh gosh! your hair, it's so marvellously braided, i never noticed it!" mum cries.

indeed grace's hair is pretty. it's done up in two french braids, with a braid somehow embedded into the braid that's done into her colour-changing locks. it's hard to explain, i dunno.

"people do seem to notice the colour of your hair more than the style," y/n smiles.

"who did it?" mum asks.

"i did, actually," y/n laughs, "but her hair pulled it off."

"nonsense, that's a marvellous piece of wand work!"

y/n smiles, "not wand work, molly, these chubby things," she does jazz hands, "did that."

mum gasps, "wow!"

"it's barely an achievement."

"it isn't actually, she hurts me when she pulls my hair too hard," gracie pipes up.

y/n glares at grace, "we will not fight in public, graceful," we all laugh at the nickname, "but if you do it cautiously, it won't hurt. i've seen some of the jumpers you've knitten! they're brilliant! your hands must be so deft."

mum loves y/n. i can tell. y/n's polite and nice. she's also pretty. mum's eyes glisten with merriment.

"you must teach me!"

"of course! but i must warn you, i am terrible at teaching."

i frowned, "that isn't true! harry told me you were awesome at tutoring him!"

she smiles, "harry potter, harry potter. he was a good student, what can i say? and i was taught in dada by the finest teachers."

"well darling y/n, you must come with us back to the burrow, if your parents are okay with it."

"our parents are in a cruise in malta, i'm sure they won't mind," grace chuckles and y/n laughs.

"yup, that's right. anniversary."

i notice the colours on grace's hand.

"what's that?" i point at the shiny blue colouring over her nails.

"nail polish. it paints your nails," grace explains.

"do you think you could bring some nail polish?" i ask her.

"of course! look, y/n and your mother are talking! let's go pick out some colours! my treat!"

she grabs my hand and we reach shelves with all sorts of colours.

"hot pink, right?" she asks me and i nod.

"well you can choose any!"

i end up choosing a few bottles and some little stickers, as she dumps them into the now found shopping basket that y/n is carrying.

"-and there's the twins. i dare say george is taken, but you were in fred's year, he's a good one. well i must say that, he is my boy, but he's got the weasley charm, you have to meet him!"

y/n looks at mum with an amused smile. "i would be glad to, molly. in fact, i'm pretty sure i've met him before."

"she's tryna set one of my brothers up with her. yuck!" i whisper to grace.

"yuck!" grace fake gags.

we both giggle. "why do you think it's yuck?" she asks.

"because my brothers are disgusting."

she giggles again. "i think it's yuck because she told me that fred once pranked her by putting glue in her shoes! she said that he wasn't very smart."

we both giggle again.

"do you think he liked her?" i ask her.

"she says that no boys have liked her before!"

"i think that's a lie!"

"no i don't, she's weird!"

we giggle again.

"grace, are you gonna go with ginny back to the burrow and i can go get the stuff for later and head to the burrow or do you wanna come with me?" y/n asks, "maybe isn't an answer by the way."

"what do you think?"

"bye!" y/n picks up her basket to pay and grace links arms with me.

mum says goodbye to y/n who hugs her first. that's always something that molly weasley absolutely loves.

mum finishes up buying things and we apparate with her to the burrow, where she sends a patronus to george, telling him, 'get your twin in my house now! it's urgent. oh and tell him we have guests. also tell him to bring an impressive attitude! do take a break, my dear, you and fred are working far too hard. send my love to angelina.'

a patronus comes back promptly, in true george form, 'told him that you're mad at him. his fangirls always told me they liked when he was all worried, thought it was cute. and he'll change into clothes that make him look more vulnerable too to trigger your empathy. will take a break. will send love to angie. love you too.'

"ahh george takes after me, always knows what's going on," mum says and i roll my eyes.

grace giggles.

"when's y/n coming?" i ask her.

"i dunno, she's pretty quick. she'll probably change her clothes, call mum and dad and chat with them and then gather all the stuff."

"wanna play quidditch?"

"yup. bags keeper."

"bags chaser."

"race ya!"

she hops on the spare broom and rides into the distance.

i follow her as we play for a little bit. it's already getting dark outside when i hear the light laugh of y/n. she's sitting on her broomstick, legs swinging as she uses the broomstick like a pro.

"dinna!" she laughs.

just like grace said, she's changed her clothes. they're more comfy looking. a neon green sweater is clad to black sweatpants.

"i brought pjs too because molly said we could stay for the night, graceless!"

i shake my head, mounting my broom as i whisper to grace 'mum's up to something'. she shrugs, 'i dunno your mum that well but yeah probably'.

we sit for dinner. it's delicious as always and a fluffy conversation over potions ingredients starts as mum asks y/n about her opinion on gillyweed and its properties.

"they said you were excellent at potions, y/n," mum praises and y/n laughs.

"nah, i really wasn't."

"yeah you were, you're more of a nerd," grace says.

we all laugh. "that is not true! i simply enjoy the art that is education," y/n has a gentle smile on her face.

"then you would not enjoy the company of fred," mum teases her.

"oh no, no, no, that's not at all what i meant! i'm sure i would love his company. and i'm sure he's very very well-educated."

mum laughs heartily, "i'm just joking with you, darling."

"oh thank goodness, i'm sure i'll be very, er, fond of him."

she's hiding some secret.

but her head immediately turns to the direction of the door. she probably heard the pop of apparition, whilst the rest of our eyes look at the ding! the clock which tells mum and dad where each of us are. fred's home, it says.

mum winks at me and i nod, going to open the door for him, knowing he's probably lost the key mum gave him.

fred's in his stupid red sweater with stupid grey trackpants, his hair messy and he looks freshly showered. instead of his natural grin, a worried and scared look is on his face.

i quickly hug him and he whispers in my ear, "what shit have i done now, ey, ginevra?"

"i dunno, and it's ginny to you."

"fuck, what the shit have i done?" he anxiously taps his foot and i stomp on it.

"ow, fuck! ginny!"

"it's annoying. be polite."

"okay."

he sighs, heading in.

"hello mum!" he says, pecking her cheek cautiously.

"freddie! meet y/n!" his shoulders relax in relief as he turns his attention onto y/n, who's smiling politely.

his cheeks turn red, "hey," he says. grace and i share glances. mum looks amused. she knows he's always got flirting in him. just not now, perhaps??

"hi! fred weasley, right? gryffindor?" she asks.

"yep. you're y/n, pretty head girl?"

and he's back. he smirks bravely but y/n doesn't react.

"now, fred, now's not the time," mum ushers him to some food.

"i've already eaten-"

"nonsense, you're very skinn- hang on, fred, what's all this muscle?"

fred goodnaturely rolls his eyes, "muscle, dear mother, is a-"

"yes but where did it come from?"

"eating your food, i suppose," he winks at y/n who smiles back. his face could not get more redder.

mum beams happily.

"now, mum, why are you looking so thin? you tell me and george we work far too much, but what about you?" he suddenly looks concerned.

i see y/n's eyes soften, as she looks down at her plate, which is empty.

she quickly gathers grace and i's plates and washes them, hanging them on the rack.

"y/n, you are staying for the night, aren't you?"

"if it's okay with you."

"right and i do believe that ginny's room is far too small for the three of you-"

lies.

"mum-"

she gives me a look.

i sigh.

"right, so fred's staying over tonight."

"i am?" he asks.

"you are."

"i thought i was going back to my apartmen-"

he's silenced by a look.

"you can stay with him in his room, which is right next to george's, if it's fine with you!" she suggests.

y/n thinks for a moment, "there are no other rooms available?" she asks carefully.

"nope, they're all rather dirty."

lies. mum's a neat freak.

"he's okay with it?"

"it's not a big deal for me, sweetheart," he flirts. she ignores him, her cheeks going red all the same.

"that would be okay then. i'm very grateful for you, molly."

"i'm very grateful for having such a nice girl like you around! ginny's told me a lot about you."

y/n smiles.

"now, let's get to what we are really here for!" y/n says enthusiastically.

y/n dumps a hot pink bag down with a thud, winking at me.

"this is all for ginny to keep."

"oh, we couldn't possibly take all this."

"you'll take it," she says rather ominously, "i insist."

she gets out a smaller bag in a light purple and pulls out a brush, beginning to teach my mum how to do it. i watch fred silently as mum braids my hair.

his eyes are on y/n. his lips are in a half-smile as he watches her concentrate.

"ouch!" grace yells out.

"i'm being gentle, disgrace," y/n says, "and you hurt me! how dare you suggest i hurt you?"

i see fred laugh. his humour is rather like hers, i think.

now, y/n is applying polish to my nails, as mum watches, deliberately looking at fred every few seconds.

"this is a base coat, it makes your nails nice to paint on."

one of things i like about y/n is she always explains things so they make more sense. she's also terribly patient.

"and this is a kind of actual coat." a hot pink paint is applied. it's pretty.

"this is a top coat. it seals everything and makes it nice."

a clear coat is topped off.

"hmm," she hums, "what decos do you want?"

"hearts, please. and glitter."

"good choice."

soon my nails look very beautiful. as i'm admiring them, y/n cleans up with a nonverbal spell.

"can we paint your nails?" i put my puppy eyes on.

she laughs, "why?"

"why not?" grace adds.

mum nudges fred. the movement doesn't go unnoticed by y/n as her eyes flicker ever so slightly to them in confusion.

she offers her hands to us.

i try very hard to make them look pretty, but they end up sloppy and messy.

grace's are neat and elegant, like a true slytherin.

i embarrassedly glance up at her as she examines them.

"i love 'em!"

"you'll wear them to work?" i asked her.

"the patients won't mind," she assures me.

"patients?" fred is curious.

"i work at st mungo's," she explains, "the surgical department. they need muggle strategies to combat diseases sometimes. i conduct specifically plastic surgery for burn victims."

if he wasn't impressed already, he is now.

"well i need a treatment for excessive," i groan as he smirks at her, "hotness."

"that can be arranged. what procedure do you want done?" she jokes back.

"hmm, i think i'll get my hair dyed."

"that's not a procedure but i do have blonde hair dye. blonde's a beautiful hair colour. want?" she asks.

"want you? definitely."

she rolls her eyes, "want to be a blondie?"

"nah, don't you think i look cute in ginger hair?"

mum is chuckling to herself, oblivious to the conversation, as she sorts out the hair products y/n's given her.

"grace, do you think freddie here looks cute in ginger hair?"

grace gags, "no."

"that is my answer. nothing talks like blood."

her head turns again to the door as we hear another pop. dad's home. he kisses mum on the cheek and ruffles my hair, before looking deadpan at fred.

"who are you?"

"i'm hannah. hannah montana," he mimics.

we all burst out laughing but i'm sure his eyes are on y/n.

"y/n!"

"mr weasl- arthur! how nice to see you again."

they shake hands and soon conversations about jobs and things are continued as dad wolfs down his soup.

soon, they go to bed, leaving the four of us.

"well, i'm tired," i fake a yawn, directing a meaningful look to grace who follows.

"we're going to bed!" grace takes the pyjamas and a change of clothes and we gently shut the door.

i grab two extendable ears and give one to grace, as we listen.

"long time no see, weasley."

"you did give me detention, so yes."

"i gave you detention because i was so tired because you switched ALL the clocks in the dorms to a different timezone. jet lag, but worse."

"i only switched yours."

"should've also taken 50 points."

"biased thing."

"house pride. gryffindor's got plenty of that, doesn't it? now i don't particularly fancy sharing a bed with you, let's work out living arrangements. i will take the floor-"

"nup. you're not taking any hard surface, unless it's my abs."

she laughs, "you can't tell me what to do."

"then i'll take the floor."

"are you sure i can't just sleep in george's room or something? i'd hate to make you sleep on the floor."

"george is a private man."

"he is an enigma. another reason why angie loves him so much."

"oh?"

"oh don't tell him. angie's gonna ask him out tomorrow. she already knows he likes her back. he's pretty obvious for a private man, isn't he?"

"he is."

"she's gonna ask him at the place, the place where they sell the- the! ugh, what's it called? the cups. no, that doesn't sound right. the mug! yes the cafe. it's absolutely gorgeous."

i peek an eye around the door. he's staring at her with heart eyes.

"i guess."

grace whispers into my ear, "she thinks he's dry. the convo will end in 3...2...1..."

sure enough, y/n gets up and cleans up the kitchen.

"i think i'll turn in for the night. you can go back to your apartment if you want, i wouldn't wanna force you to stay. i'll clean your sheets tomorrow for you, so no stranger danger at all. sweetest dreams."

as she approaches the door, i hear her mutter something under her breath.

we quickly dive into my room.

"she hates people who won't continue the conversation. says it sucks the life out of her," grace says.

i agree with y/n. "that's true. but he looks quite smitten."

i watch as she enters my room, towel in hand, pyjamas clutched by her side.

"mind if i take a shower?"

"not at all!" i answer, "do you like my brother?"

she shakes her head, "nah. not in that way."

she pauses, satisfied with her answer, "he is a bit dry, but i've heard from alicia he's supposed to be really upbeat. i can get to know him, i guess."

"he likes you."

she thinks for a second, "nah."

she disappears into the bathroom, reappearing with her towel wrapped around her hair and pyjamas with little elephants on them.

"my mum bought me them, aren't they adorable?"

i nod, "very cute."

she grins, "well, g'night, have a lovely evening, both of you!"

"good night!"

i wait to hear the sound of a door echo through the house, before lightly padding up the stairs to a pair of identical white doors. one is half ajar and the other is closed.

y/n is sitting patiently on the floor of the room of which the door is slightly open, her legs crossed, and her eyes focused on the wall.

suddenly her mouth hangs open and her cheeks turn a bright pink as she covers her eyes with her hands.

"i didn't see anything, i promise!" she squeaks.

grace laughs, "she totes saw him shirtless."

fred's laughs can be heard through the house.

"it's 'kay, lovely. i don't mind. mind if i sleep without a shirt?"

the tips of her ears went a shade darker.

"if-if you feel comfortable that way, i don't see why that should be a problem," she smiles.

"well are you comfortable with it? you seem very flustered as of now. your face is bright red, princess."

he's never been one to be tactful, i think, rolling my eyes.

"uh, it's just very warm in here! some heater your parents have!"

"mhm, and if you'll allow me," fred puts a bare arm around her waist.

he's gotten muscly, i think. yuck.

she's trying to calm down. not in that way my ass.

her ears are still a light pink colour. but she looks composed and cool.

"nervous, y/n?" he asks.

"i think not."

her cheeks are heating up again as he scoops her up and gently places her down on the bed with crimson red sheets and gold embellishments.

"this is hard to watch," grace says, "she's blushing so much."

i laugh silently.

he decides that it isn't good enough. instead he sits on the bed casually and lifts her into his lap.

she looks so flustered that it isn't even exaggerated anymore.

"ah hah!" fred lightly taps her nose, "and that, love, is proof if i ever saw it!"

he grins.

y/n looks confused, "wha?"

"that is proof that you do have feelings for me!" he laughs ever so lazily.

"but-"

"blushing, being flustered, your voice is an octave higher," he lists it out, always the tell-it-as-it-is sort of person.

"okay, fine, you got me."

"have you been trying to hide it from me?"

"yes."

"did you fall for the weasley charm?"

"your dad is quite a nice person, but i wouldn't say that," she smiles cheekily.

"did you fall for the fred weasley charm?" he smiles down at her.

"i-i think i fell for it a long time ago. even when it didn't exist. maybe back in fourth year when i saw you laughing," she admits, studying her hands.

he's madly grinning, looking down at her the same way i'd say ron looks at hermione, just a bit crazier.

there's a silence.

"are the-" y/n pauses, "are the feelings, perhaps, mutual?"

"nope," he jokes sarcastically.

"oh."

it's short, disappointed and defeated.

"well!" y/n says a little too brightly, "i was hoping for a different answer, but i guess this is fine too." she smiles sadly.

"for a highly smart person, sweetheart, you are quite daft."

"i am not! i'm well-educated and proper!" she defends.

grace rolls her eyes, "the only thing in the world that matters to her is being well-educated and proper."

"let's try this again. ask the question again."

"a-are the feelings perhaps mutual?"

"nope," the heavily sarcastic tone is so obvious, "deFinitelY not."

y/n's eyebrows are furrowed, as if trying to decode a hard puzzle. her eyebrows relax in realisation.

"oh."

this time it's forgiving and relaxed.

"finally," i mutter.

"you mean to tell me you've got a girlfriend! i'm really sorry. that's completely my problem."

she tries to move off of his lap but his grip around her waist doesn't loosen.

instead he looks at her more patiently than i've ever seen him look at anyone.

"again, please," he repeats in a pleasant tone.

"are the feelings perhaps mutual?"

"noPe, dEfiNitElY nOt, i cAll yOu all tHesE peTnAmEs bEcAuSe i sO obVioUsLy hAve a gIrlfRieNd," he exaggerates.

a small smile makes way onto y/n's face.

"you're being sarcastic?"

grace is rolling her eyes beside me, "stupid."

"nO i'M nOt, sillY."

"you're being sarcastic."

he laughs, "finally you got it. took about three minutes, is that a world record?"

"wait, so if you said nO in a sarcastic way to the question which was..." she rambles on, "that means... the feelings are mutual?"

"ever since you tripped on the stairs to divination-"

"that was not my best moment."

"-i've loved you. it was adorable."

grace and i both gag.

"it was embarrassing. hang on, you and george laughed at me! the class did too!" her eyes were narrowed with accusation.

"i laughed because i found it funny and cute. he laughed because i laughed. the whole class laughed because our nature is contagious," he says with a smirk.

"s-so, do you wanna be together?" y/n asks, "or are you not the commitment type of guy?"

"well, nO, i JuSt cOnfEsSeD mY fEeLinGs tO a gIrL i'Ve lOveD sInCe fOreVeR, i dOn'T waNna dAtE yOu."

"..."

his mischief is replaced by an expression of gentle adoration.

"just kidding, of course i wanna be yours. and you'll be mine?"

y/n nods, "and you're not being sarcastic?"

"i'm not," his voice is genuine and quiet.

"okay then. are you, are you my boyfriend now? can i call you that?"

he grins and laughs, "i am in fact your boyfriend, love. and you can call me whatever you want," he plants a kiss on the top of her head, "but preferably you can call me mine," he winks at her.

she buries her face in his chest, "you're cheesy," her voice comes out muffled.

fred laughs, he looks whipped. ew. but good for him.

"awww," i say to grace, who's pretending to be snoring.

"this is gonna be hell when i third wheel you and harry james potter, his scar is so cute!" she mocks me and i blush.

"oh shut it."

after a few minutes of silence, i'm pretty sure y/n's asleep. fred looks at her with so much love in his eyes he might burst from it all.

he fetches a blanket and covers her with it, stroking her hair softly.

suddenly he grins. to no one in particular he says:

"she loves me back."

"GINNY!!! Y/N'S GOING TO BE HERE ANY MINUTE NOW! COME DOWN IMMEDIATELY! WE'RE STILL TRYING TO GET THEM TOGETHER RIGHT?" mum's voice booms and i laugh. it's been three or four months since that fateful day.

"they're already together," grace says, reading a witch weekly magazine casually.

"no they can't be. fred might be my child, but she is far too pretty for him. but nonetheless, the matchmaking must go ON!"

a knock sounds on the door. i open the door, hugging y/n and then my brother.

"y/n!" mum bustles her into a hug and she hugs fred too.

fred draws a sharp breath in.

"this is y/n, mum," he says proudly, "she's my girlfriend."

a shrill shriek rings out as mum screams.

"what? oh since when?"

"the night following the day we bumped into you at the supermarket," y/n says, playing with fred's hands.

"oh all my matchmaking worked!" mum cries out, sobbing tears of joy as she flings herself at y/n.

y/n giggles, "so that's what it was!"

"we brought two people home too," fred winks at me and then at grace.

out steps harry potter and jacob franz. both me and grace go red.

all was well in the burrow.

[theoreticslut]

♕ - smut ღ - fluff  ✧ - angst  √ - complete  » - on going

prompts // requests // taglist

notes: I do take requests (check bio to see if they’re open), but it may take awhile for me to get to them. I try to get them done asap, but I also have my own personal life going on outside of here & I can’t always write when I want to. I hope you all can understand that, & can be respectful of it. I very rarely, if ever, turn away a request so unless you’ve gotten something saying I won’t do it, know I do have it & it will get done eventually Xx

That’s not to say you can’t check up and see if I did get your request because I know tumblr can be iffy on asks sometimes. Just don’t be demanding or rude about it, please. That’s all I ask. 

+ series;

• The Truth that you Deny ღ √

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5

You like both of your best friends and don’t want to hurt either one. // 11.5k

• “I thought I hated you...” ✧ ღ »

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4

You thought you hated the Weasley twins...but they’re not so bad after all. // 13.6k

• Dad!George

Finding out you’re pregnant ღ √

Out of all things, you never expected to be seeing those two little lines on the test. // 2k

+ oneshots;

• First Christmases & Baking Cookies ღ √

Being a new parent and enjoying the holiday with your little family. // 1.5k

• Pining for you Best Friend ✧ ღ √

You like his brother more, but his brother likes someone else. What more can he do besides step up as your best friend? // 5k

• “You don’t share real well” ღ √

Sharing a bed with you is not always fun. // 2k

• “Bloody hell, it’s only taken you five years.” ღ √

Part 2 to “You don’t share real well.” // 3k

• George x short fem reader   ღ √

You’re feeling a bit insecure about the height difference in your relationship. // 2.2k

• “I think I like you” // pt 2  ✧ ღ ♕ √

Fred seems to like you, so why is george so distant with you? // 5.2k

• “I know what it’s like…” ✧ ღ √

It’s never fun when depression hits, but at least you have a wonderful & loving boyfriend to comfort you. // 4.3k

• Plaything ♕ √ 

You’ve had a crush on a few of the Weasley boys...and they’ve had crushes on you too. // 5.1k

• Period Cramps ♕ √

Your best friends offer to help alleviate your cramps with the first thing they can think of. // 5.9k

• Tu m’appartiens ღ √

Being a french transfer, you’re excited to meet some of your future schoolmates before classes start. One of them, however, finds himself liking you a bit more than a friend & tells you in an interesting choice of words. // 3.4K

• Wildflowers and Peach ღ √

All it takes is a little amortentia lesson to realize just how strong your feelings for your best friend are. // 3.6k

• “I fell in love with my tutor...”  ღ √

George Weasley needs some help in transfiguration and you get signed up for the job. // 3.2k

• Sleepover ღ √

Your best friends realize how shitty they’ve been when you start hanging out with other people and seem happier. // 4.5k

• Mutually Curious  ღ ♕ √

George offers to try something you’ve been wanting to do for awhile. // 3.8k

• Matching ღ √

Your boyfriend loves your nail polish and wonders what it’d look like on him. // 0.6k

• “Would you like some help?”  ღ ♕ √

after walking in on something you wish he hadn’t, george finds that your cluelessness warrants some hands-on teaching. who better to teach you than him? // 5.8k

• bruised dummy ✧ ღ √

you can tell that something’s wrong with george, yet he stubbornly won’t tell you what it is that’s bothering him. // 1.8k

[google1000]

Harry Potter- Golden Era Masterlist

Oldest ~ Top Of Section

Youngest~ Bottom of Section

⭐️-Smut ❤️-Fluff 💔-Angst 🚫-None 💙-Incorrect Quote

🪢- Polyamorous 🍷-Alcohol🩸-Blood ☠️-Death 🤰-Pregnancy

🚺-Female Character 🚹-Male Character ⚧- Gender Neutral Character

Golden Era

Bill Weasley

Little Cat by FensHeroHair❤️🚺

One Where He Find You Naked by RandomOutsiders⭐️🚺

French Lesson by WeeLittleWeasley⭐️🚺

Weasley Family Images by AthoughtFox❤️⚧️

Charlie Weasley

After Hours by SunflowerDarlingx⭐️🚺

Imagine Charlie Taking You To His Family’s Home For Holidays by FanFicImagery❤️🚺

Weasley Family Images by AthoughtFox❤️⚧️

Oliver Wood (HE’S 18+ IN ALL SMUTS)

Empire by Wicked-Hg❤️🚺

Concussion by SlytherWeasley⭐️🚺

We’re Not Related by OnceUponAOneShotFanfic❤️🚺

Locker Room Sex by Bl4KStar⭐️🚺

Oliver Wood X Female Reader by OnceUponAOneShotFic❤️🚺

Fifth Floor Part. 1 by RedHeadSpark⭐️🚺

Fifth Floor Part. 2 by RedHeadSpark⭐️🚺

Champion’s Treat by CreepyDollie⭐️🚺

Percy Weasley (HE’S 18+ IN ALL SMUTS)

Reunite by AmazingMaeve❤️🤰🚺

Dating With Percy Weasley Would Include by AngelBlackSmith❤️☠️🚺

Bathroom by AmazingMaeve ⭐️🚺

Weasley Family Images by AthoughtFox❤️⚧️

Cedric Diggory

Mutual Masturbation by HpImaginesAndBlurbs⭐️🚺

Study Date by TallulahDiggory⭐️🚺

Glorious by PromenadeWithMe⭐️🚺

Home Alone by AngelSt4re⭐️🚺

Summer Rain by SnowVies❤️🚺

Harry Potter x Fem!Reader x Cedric Diggory by HpImaginesAndBlurbs⭐️🪢🚺

Playful In Potions by IconicStoner❤️🚺

In The Night With You by Pasukiyo❤️🚺

Secretly Hold Hands When Taking The Picture by RandomOutsiders❤️🚺

Cedric x Gryffindor!Head Girl Reader by RandomOutsiders❤️🚺

Mommy by FireFlyInks⭐️🚺

Pillow Prince by UrMommies⭐️🚺

Fred Weasley (HE’S 18+ IN ALL SMUTS)

Bath Time by WeeLittleWeasley❤️🤰🚺

Sheer Brilliance by WeeLittleWeasley ⭐️❤️🚺

Evaluations by WeeLittleWeasley ⭐️❤️🚺

After All This Time by TwelveGods💔❤️🤰🚺

Weasley Family Images by AthoughtFox❤️⚧️

On Your Knees by George-Weasleys-Girl⭐️🚺

Fred Weasley x Male Reader by Rivendell876⭐️🚹

Breed Like Gnomes by EmerituseMeritus❤️🤰🚺

George Weasley (HE’S 18+ IN ALL SMUTS)

Mutually Curious by TheOreticSlut⭐️🚺

Would You Like Some Help by TheOreticSlut ⭐️🚺

Golden Tattoos by ExpelliarWeasley⭐️🚺

Just Helping You Out (Part 1) by SinclairCherry⭐️🚺

Just Helping You Out (Part 2) by SinclairCherry⭐️🚺

Just Helping You Out (Part 3) by SinclairCherry⭐️🚺

Inked Up by LumosAndNoxWriting⭐️🚺

Chocolate Milk by DurmStrange❤️🤰🚺

Finding Out You’re Pregnant by TheOreticSlut❤️🤰🚺

Pregnancy by Wand3RinGr0s3❤️🤰🚺

Weasley Family Images by AthoughtFox❤️⚧️

Babies On The Brain by KMT123WhatsTheTea⭐️🤰🚺

Ron Weasley (HE’S 18+ IN ALL SMUTS)

Nurture by Fandom-Puff❤️🚺

Weasley Family Images by AthoughtFox❤️⚧️

Neville Longbottom (HE’S 18+ IN ALL SMUTS)

Neville Having A Crush On A Very Outspoken Individual by Jillys-Feral-Fandoms❤️⚧

Harry Potter (HE’S 18+ IN ALL SMUTS)

Little Potter by MyraPottah⭐️🤰🚺

Quickie by GoGoGadzilla⭐️🚺

Harry Potter x Fem!Reader x Cedric Diggory by HpImaginesAndBlurbs⭐️🪢🚺

Incorrect Quotes

Percy & George & Oliver Incorrect Quote by AnnabelleLupin💙

Ginny & Bill & Percy & Charlie Incorrect Quote by Percy-Weasley-Supremacy💙

Harry & Hermione Incorrect Quote by CrackishIncorrectHP💙

Harry & Luna & Hermione Incorrect Quote by CrackishIncorrectHP💙

Y/N & Draco Incorrect Quote by ItsTheGhostOfMyPast💙

Harry & Draco Incorrect Quote by Fanby-Fckry💙

Draco & Harry & Pansy Incorrect Quote by YourGalGremlin💙

Hermione & Harry & Ron Incorrect Quote by Hxuse-XF-Black💙

McGonagall Incorrect Quote by HPSeeker99💙

Ron & Harry Incorrect Quote By HPSeeker99💙

Neville & Ron & Ginny & Hermione & Harry Incorrect Quote by HPSeeker99💙

Dean & Harry & Ron & Hermione & Neville &Ginny & Luna & The entire Gryffindor common room & Seamus Incorrect Quotes by HPSeeker99💙

[pepper-up-potion]

A 20 out of 10 kind of date (George Weasley x Fem!Reader)

Summary: George and reader go on a late night date and listen to music together. (Strongly recommend you listen to your favourite album while reading this)

Warnings: I can’t think of any other than the fact that this is my first fic ever so it’s prob... bad, but please let me know if you do.

Word count: 997

(Y/n) puts on her shoes and walks towards the door pausing when her hand grips the door handle. “Here I go.” she say as another splurge of butterflies flutter in her stomach.

Hermione smiles “Do try to have fun yeah?”

“With him? I’m sure I will.” She responds as a smile forms on her face at the thought of spending time with George.

“Hey (y/n)!” George exclaims as he springs off the couch and shoves his hands in his pockets.

It’s their third date together and they’re still not sure how to act around each other, fearing to overstep and mess everything up. (Y/n) opens her arms tentatively for a hug and George visibly sighs in relief as he steps forward to wrap his arms around her.

“Ready?” He asks.

She nods as a big smile forms on her face. The sight makes him giddy. He takes her hand in his and they sneak out of the castle and head onto the dark grounds. They walk aimlessly down the hill with no specific destination in mind. They finally reach the quidditch pitch with sore cheeks from smiling too much and hands still tightly intertwined.

“Let’s go on the pitch, yeah? It’s a great place to look at the stars. The stands act as a bit of a shield from the wind” he nods towards the tall stands.

“Okay, I wanna show you something.” She smiles as his face contorts with confusion.

(Y/n) leads him to the middle of the pitch before letting go of his hand and lying down on the grass. He settles next to her waiting for her to reveal her special something.

She doesn’t say anything but pulls out a small iPod and some earphones. She plugs them into the iPod and passes George the left one. He looks at the earphone with bewilderment.

“Um. What is this?”

She giggles. “It’s an earphone silly. You put it in your ear and listen to music. I wanted to show you an artist I really like. I thought you might like them too.”

He hesitantly inserts the earphone and looks at (y/n) to make sure he did it right. She smiles at the cute look on his face and nods in confirmation. She taps a little on the screen and a song starts playing. George jumps a bit in surprise which makes (y/n) laugh loudly.

Once they’ve both calmed down, they listen to the album in silence. Moving closer and closer to one another as the songs go on. Eventually, (y/n) is using George’s arm as a pillow with her body turned towards him, her arm extended over his chest. He’s drawing small circles on her shoulder with his other arm.

George watches her delighted face as she hangs onto every lyric and every note of every song. It’s possibly his new favourite thing. The small smile on her lips, the way she lightly sways her head to the beat, eyes closing at specific parts which he assumes to be her favourite ones.

“What did you think?” She asks sleepily taking him out of his blissful trance.

“I liked it.” He states noticing how groggy he feels.

“Aw c’mon gimme a lil more than that.” She slurs sleepily.

He chuckles lightly. He’s never seen her this sleepy. It’s definitely one of the cutest things he’s ever seen.

“I liked the words to the second song. The instruments are good. I liked the boom boom in the back.”

She tries to giggle but it falls short as she closes her eyes, ready to fall asleep. “Drums.” She whispers.

“What?” He lifts his head a bit to look at her with eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“That’s what makes the boom boom.” She whispers. Each word sounds effortful as she grows sleepier by the second.

“Hey, don’t give out on me here.” He says softly.

The only response is a huff as she snuggles into his chest. He smiles unable to rejoice at the moment.

“Alright, let’s get you back to the castle, yeah?” He whispers softly as he shifts slowly which results in a grunt of dissatisfaction from (y/n).

He finally gets her to stand and start their trudge back to the castle. The walk starts slow as (y/n) leans onto George, barely able to hold herself up from exhaustion. As the walk continues she gains enough energy to finish it on her own. They sneak back up to (y/n)’s common room entrance.

“I had such a great night. Thanks for sharing that artist with me, they’re really cool.”

“I’m glad you like them. I had a good time too. You’re awfully comfy. I thought I was going to fall asleep on you at one point.” If it weren’t for the fog in her brain that is stopping her from thinking before she talks she would not have blurted that.

The confession makes George smile.

“Maybe someday I’ll actually let you.” It sounds certain, almost like a plan he’s determined to accomplish.

He steps forward, closing the gap between the two.

“You know right now I’d give this date a 9.5 out of 10. ” He says with a dramatic sigh.

“9.5?! How is this not a 10?” She asks with exaggerated offence.

“It’s missing a goodnight kiss.” He smirks.

“Well then, let’s make this date a 10 yeah?” She whispers as she tilts her head up.

He meets her halfway placing one hand on her waist and the other cupping her cheek. Their lips press together gently as they slowly start exploring the feeling of each other’s lips. She laces her fingers into his hair deepening the kiss.

They finally pull away with shy smiles and rosy cheeks. George backs up eyes still locked on (y/n)’s mesmerizing smile.

“Goodnight.” She whispers.

He nods his head in acknowledgement unable to utter a word before she sneaks off to her dorm.

“20 out of 10” he whispers to himself as he touches his lips still swollen from their kiss.

Author’s note: This was my first fic ever! I hope you liked it, I’d love to get some feedback if you’re willing to share. Don’t know if this is interesting but I lightly based it on my third date with my boyfriend. In case u wanna explore new singers, the artist I introduced him to was Émile Bilodeau (it’s French tho). That night was also when we had our first kiss 🥰

[mioniesvfx]

Fred dating a Slytherin would include:

Parings: Fred weasleys x fem! Slytherin reader

Warnings: Mentions of sexual content, curse words, not proof read, And a whole lot of fluff!

-OK let me just get started by saying Fred Loves him a ambitious and cunning woman!! -like He's OBSESSED with your personality and how you aren't afraid to tell the truth. -He fell in love when he first saw you Probably from running into each other in the halway. - "watch where your going next time Weasley". - And he's just left standing there like damn who was that Slytherin?. -You would catch him staring at the Slytherin table during a meal time and you just furrow your eyes at him in confusion making him chuckle lightly at you. -the staring would continue in for days as much as you tried avoiding him.. -you'd catch Hus gaze in the great hall. -in the hallways. -even locked eyes with you during a quidditch match shooting you a big toothy grin. -which may or may not have resulted with him getting hit with a qaufle... -This went on for what felt like forever until he finally had the nerve to talk to you on your way out of class. - he'd hurry and run up to you as you'd walk out of class. -"uhmmm Heyyyyyy"? "Uhm...'?. -y/n u say slowing down your walking pace to talk to him and giving him a small smile. -"I was just wondering if you'd like to accompy me on the hogsmeade trip in Saturday"?. -"sounds like a plan". -Let's just say you to immediately hit it off- -you walked around and decided to stop at the three broomsticks for some bbroomsticks for some nice and hot butterbeer. -Him telling you all about his family and what him and George have been up to lately. -and you telling him about ended . -this dude was a jokster and really captivated you inand never failed to make you laugh. -"nice one Fred" you'd laugh. -him not failing to talk to you every time he sees you. -starts getting more comthorble with each other and letting him give you small hugs and letting him wrap his arms around you/waist in the hallways. - The gryffindirs slytherins being so confused. -sneaking up to tge astronamy tower together. - sharing your first kiss there. -which ended in him asking you to be his girlfriend. - "of course Freddie". - him being a complete SIMP for you. - "your the most Beautiful person I ever seen y/n. -Him finally letting you and George meet. -you and George becoming besties. -Ginny looking up to you as a big sister. - "do you think you could tech me how to do that French braid y/n?. -Making Draco leave the golden trio alone. - "Call her that again Malfoy and I promise you I will beat your ass". -Causing all of them to love you and approve of your relationship. -him telling you the comments room password. -helping him and George come up with pranks. -lots of I love you's. -Him inviting you to the burrow for Christmas. -you quickly denying scared that his parents won't like you because you a Slytherin. -"But why love"?. -"what if they don't like me"?. - "they'll LOVE you"!!. -arriving at the burrow only for your doubts to be wrong and being engulfed in a big hug by both Molly and Arthur. -"oh how did my son get so lucky"?. -"Mom!!". - "OK! OK!". -never feeling so welcomed In your entire life. -Fred coming up with names like kitten and darling. -pretending that you hate it but secretly wishing he never calls you your first name ever again. - you two Deciding to take your relationship to the next level. - Being shocked at how big he is. - Fighting for dominance. -discovering kinks you never knew you had. - you trying to be sexy and in the moment and him cracking a joke right when your about to cum . - "Fred!! You'd exclaim in a moany laugh. - "sorry kitten but be a good girl for me". -bringing down the house rivalry rate. - "wow Mionie" Harry whispered to Hermione . -" I've never seen so many gryffindors dating Slytherins before!" -being the schools power couple. -dumbledore low key watching you every moves and shipping you harder than any one else. -him gushing over your relationship with professer sprout"

-loving each other through thick in thin

-"I love you kitten"

-"and I love you to Freddie"

[twilightdruig]

why did it have to be me?

pairing: bill weasley x fem!reader, slight ron weasley x fem!reader

summary: (part 2 of mamma mia! series) after y/n’s intimate night with ron, she’s off to greece in search for her destiny and future. too bad she misses her boat.

warnings: mamma mia!au, muggle!au, alludes to sex, reader has mommy issues

words: 1.8k

a/n: unedited!! , this is the second part of the mamma mia! series, next is sam aka donna’s 3rd lover. hope you enjoyed this!

y/n successfully snuck out of the small hotel room of ron weasley. the two shared an intimate night only a few hours ago and here she was leaving for greece.

she arrived at the pier, met with a short, bald man who was checking for their tickets.

“hey” she slid her ticket and id into the booth he was sitting in. he looked very uninterested and drowsy.

she sighed before the ticket man inspected her ticket and id. “you grew your hair. it’s longer now.” he bellowed with a french accent. it reminded her of fleur a bit who was full french.

“it is a bit. yeah.” she sighs, looking back at the boat she was supposed to be in “we could totally talk about that but, um, i’m kind of in a hurry. the ferry leaves any time now and this trip’s very important, you see—“

“i prefer it shorter.” he retorted.

the ferry departing the dock now. y/n felt as though her destiny was departing with it.

the ticketman stamps her ticket and gives it back to her. before he knows it she was running, trying to catch the boat who wasn’t at the dock anymore.

“wait! wait!” she cried out, not caring about half of her wardrobe falling out of her trunk “please! don’t. oh, god!” she dropped her baggage and felt like she wanted to drop dead as well.

she was about to before she heard another person behind her.

“this is great.” she turned around to be met with yet another ginger man. this one was tall, had a few scars on his face, had a (what looked like) a shark tooth necklace and a black earring. “i’m just gonna follow you everywhere. by the end of the day, i’ll have a whole new wardrobe.” he laughed.

this brightened up her mood a little bit. this man, quite attractive as well, holding multiple of her clothing items and was laughing.

“i don’t think that’ll suit you” she tilted her head and giggled.

“oh trust me, love. i can make this work” he winked before trying to put her clothes ; specifically a two piece top, on his muscular body. he was different from ron. he may have been ginger as well but this one looked cool, earring, long hair, leather — no, snake skin? boots, he was lanky and almost the exact opposite from ron.

“ugh,” she groaned “i really wanted to catch that ferry”

“i’m sure there’ll be another one tomorrow” he assured.

“thanks.” she turned her head back to him while smiling sarcastically.

he jumped to another boat. a private one. y/n wondered, maybe this was his. he wouldn’t mind taking her to wherever she was going right?

“right, uh… but what would be really great… today, not tomorrow… is if, uh, somewhere in this harbor there was a guy.” she tested the waters.

“young, tall, dashingly handsome?” he interjected.

“he’s probably passive-looking, but… he has a boat.” she continued.

“and a couple days free before he takes part in a sailing race.” he was swinging by one of the ropes now.

“so maybe, maybe. he can take me where i want to go?” she urged, rolling on the balls of her feet.

“he’d love to” he consented, grinning.

“but, the… um, sad fact is… this-this isn’t my boat; i just wanted to impress you” he finally stood still, trying to act serious, until he chuckled.

“oh, okay” she was about to turn around and leave, before she even got to that she heard fits of laughter coming from the man.

“i’m kidding!” he waved his hands in the air “hop on, i’m bill”

she scoffed and laughed. she jumped on the boat, put down her things and tried to get comfy.

bill led her to where the beds were. “i actually have an elderly relative on the island who helped me buy this beauty.”

she nodded as he explained.

“well, it certainly is a beauty” she ran her hand over the details of the small boat.

“thank you” he pretended to tip a hat.

“well, there are two beds down here. unfortunately, one’s a little bit… full” he gestured to the certainly full bed against one side of the small room.

“huh… convenient” she rolled her eyes.

“well i’m lucky this trip isn’t long enough for you to shatter my heart into pieces” he teased.

“ugh” she moaned “i get it. i’m attractive and charming” she winked.

he paused before talking again “you’re one of them” he smiled.

her face contorted into a look of confusion “one of who?”

“there are two,” he put two fingers up “kinds of seducer.”

he paused again, “first doesn’t actually like women, so he wants to assert his power and dominance over them. second one, far, far more dangerous, is the guy who falls in love every morning just to fall out of love the next.”

she chuckled at his explanation.

“but as you run away, you tell her you’re the one in pain and she’s just too much for you to handle” he smirked.

y/n was trying to tidy up the bed she will supposedly sleep in.

before she could actually get any work done bill pulled her back up to the deck.

“bill!” she exclaimed then giggled excitedly.

bill played some music on his radio before the two started dancing on deck. technically, he told her to while he steered to wherever they were going.

multiple minutes or hours passed. she couldn’t tell how long it has been. she had been talking and giggling with him for way too long.

what y/n was unaware of is that her most recent ginger boy toy (before george) was on the harbor trying to catch the boat he thought she was on.

ron rushed the ticket man to scan his ticket and check his id. “your hair. it’s short now”

“well… yes, i had to cut it for work” he politely smiled, slightly shaking from nervousness “uhm… i wonder, could you hurry up a bit? uh, you see i’ve followed a girl all the way from paris. she wrote me a note. a very kind note… saying goodbye.” he sighed.

when the ticketman didn’t reply, he continued “but, when you’ve found the only girl you’re ever gonna love, it’s gotta be worth one more try! don’t you think?”

“it’s better short” the ticketman returned his things. ron ran off to the edge only to find the boat far from the pier.

ron felt helpless. he really liked loved this woman. he really thought he had a chance with her.

back to the boat where y/n and bill were bonding, “you’re really funny, you know that?” she complimented, “and you’re very attractive… and charming” he complimented her back.

“listen… we only just met”

their faces grew hot and they were nearing each other’s, noses bumping against one another, just about to kiss until a faint yell was heard from a distance.

“hey! help!” they heard a masculine voice who sounded like they were drowning.

“do you hear that?” she pushed him away.

“what? no. that was um.. a seagull now, where were we?” he pulled her close to his chest once more.

“anyone on that boat?! help!!” the voice yelled again.

“there it was again!” she pushed his chest to see where the gurgled voice was coming from.

he groaned “we’re coming!!”

“hi!” y/n greeted. she found a man on a still boat.

“just checking to see you’re not in danger, which you’re obviously not, so… we’ll be off” he tried tugging her arm but she wouldn’t budge.

“uh.. my engine is not working” the man gestured to the non moving vehicle.

“oh, that is bad luck” bill scratched his head “i-i’ll radio someone for someone to come and help. they should be along soon.”

“bill.”

“please, please!” the man pleaded “there is a woman waiting for me on main land. her family, they not want her to marry simple man like alexio. they want rich man. ugly, big, fat, mole but rich.” he frowned “but she… she want me. and i love her with all my heartness” he smiled at the thought of his lover “please help, kind sir and beautiful lady”

y/n laughed “well obviously we’re doing this” she turned to bill.

they turned back to alexio “yes” they said at the same time.

they sailed for a few minutes until the saw dry land and a few people waiting on it. men in suits and a lady in a white wedding dress.

“i see them. okay, everyone, we’re nearly—“

“apollonia!!” alexio yelled, cutting off bill’s sentence.

bill went to speak up again until alexio jumped off the boat “apollonia!!!” he yelled again.

“woah!” bill was surprised by the man jumping off. y/n was just laughing on the floor.

“what are you doing? we could get you closer” bill roared with laughter.

“if you love someone, you’re willing to die for them!” his voice was gurgled as he might’ve swallowed water.

“apollonia” he yelled again.

“alexio?!” she turned around “alexio!” she started running to the edge of the pier, ready to jump off.

“aah! apollon..!” his head dunked underwater.

“he’s just swallowed a big mouthful of water, but the basic point he’s trying to make is that he loves you!” bill screamed for alexio.

“what?” she screamed back.

“he loves you!” both y/n and bill yelled. both of their throats getting sore.

“apollonia!” alexio screamed for the umpteenth time.

apollonia jumped into the water in her wedding dress, trying to swim to her unrequited lover.

faint and distant ‘apollonia!’s and ‘apollonia no!’s came from the men in suits she was previously with.

“apollonia!”

“alexio!”

“oh god, i don’t think she can swim either” he began to take his own shirt off.

“well, she’s wearing a dress”

bill couldn’t hear her when he already jumped in the water to save the couple.

bill dropped them off at the second nearest dry land, away from apollonia’s relatives.

—

sooner or later, they arrived at y/n’s destination. the island of kalokairi.

“hey,” bill grabbed her attention once more “you sure you’re okay here?”

“yeah” she smiled at him “i’ll be fine”

“i’ll come back after the race” he reassured her “although it wouldn’t be for a few weeks, but i do promise to come back.”

“look at this place” she gushed “it’s so beautiful”

“it is, yeah.” they admired their surroundings while nearing where bill would drop off y/n.

“what? what’s wrong?” she noticed his expression.

“storm’s coming” he murmured. this worried herself. but all that worried faded when she noticed the clear sky.

“shut up, it’s a clear sky” she rolled her eyes.

“trust me,” he paused “actually, don’t”

“but i know i’m right. i’ll still be fine. i got a very good feeling.”

“bye, bill” she hopped off the boat, dragging her trunk on the wooden floor.

“see you soon, yeah?”

“yeah. thanks a lot too!”

“anytime, love” they waved at each other until bill was out of sight.

[alwaysfeelingsaintlike]

Driving Me Mad [G.W] - Part 5

Series Description: You and George come up with a plan to pretend to date each other. But what happens when you actually start to catch feelings...

Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor fem!reader 

Word Count: 2.2k

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @fadesbrina, @sweetlyblushedbouquet

Description: You and George head to the party and things between you heat up quicker than expected

                                                            X

You arrived back at the castle just as the party was about to begin. You made your way to the Room of Requirement where people were excitedly awaiting your arrival, mainly for the goods you were bringing. As you walked into the room, you were greeted by the sound of applause and cheering. George made his rounds and you followed him, as he handed out the occasional butterbeer before placing the crate on a nearby ledge. A mob began surrounding you both and George grabbed two brews and pulled you away from the crate before the crowd could attack. 

You spotted Cho and Marietta across the way and walked over to them, mentally prepared to be bombarded with questions.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s decided to grace us with her presence,” Marietta spoke. 

“It’s about time! We’ve been dying to know about your new beau,” Cho added.

“Not much to tell. We’re just friends, at least for now.”

“No need to be coy, it’s just us. You can give us the details,” Cho persuaded. 

“Honestly Y/N, people are already speculating.”

“Let them speculate, it’s none of their business anyway,” you smirked, knowing the plan was going perfectly.

“Just promise you’ll tell us when things become official. I’d hate to hear about it from someone else,” Cho added. 

“Of course I will tell the both of you if something happens. For now though, I’m just happy to have an old friend back.”  

As the conversation continued, you stepped away momentarily to grab another drink. You approached the crate and grabbed a brew  when another hand reached for the same bottle. 

“Oh, sorry!” you said, pulling your hand back. You turned to see who you were apologizing to, when you spotted a familiar face. “Roger…”

“Hi Y/N. How’ve you been?” he asked. 

“I, uh, I’m-“ before you could fully answer, Ms. Fleur Delacour was by Roger’s side, practically hanging off his shoulder. She spoke something French to him and it was only then that she noticed you standing there. She gave you a confused look and Roger interjected.

“Fleur, this is my friend Y/N,” he introduced. You gave her an awkward smile and a small wave as she responded with, “Bonjour.” Seconds later she was whispering with Roger again and you ran through options of how to get out of this situation.

“Y/N, there you are!” you heard George say a few paces behind you. You turned to locate him and were blindsided when you found he was suddenly inches away from you. He gently wrapped an arm around your waist to draw you close to him and he cupped your face with his free hand as he lifted your jaw up to meet his face. He kissed you with such passion and you tried to hide the surprise that had come over you. George slowly released your lips and moved his arm to rest around your shoulder. 

“Oh, sorry mate. Didn’t see you there,” George commented with a smirk. You looked toward Roger and Fleur to see them both surprised as well. Roger made some small comment to excuse them from the scene and you turned to George, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry if I took you by surprise. I just saw you were ambushed and I did the first thing I could think of to help.”

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“You…you’re not mad?”

“Mad? No, of course not. I mean, you took me by surprise but I’m not upset about it.”

“Good thing, because I think just about everyone knows about us now so we’re gonna have to keep this up.” You turned to face your peers and found everyone gossiping in their respective cliques, trying to hide their looks in your direction. 

“Well George, I’d say we are officially a couple.” You squeezed his hand and returned to your group of friends. You needed a moment to catch your breath. The kiss was so unexpected and you didn’t want to admit it, but it swept you off your feet. Were you in too deep with this plan of yours? At this point, did you even want Roger back? Your mind was spinning and you didn’t really want to field all the questions from Cho and Marietta. You impulsively made the decision to just leave and return to the common room, where the only people there would be some young Gryffindors who wouldn’t bother you. You grabbed a book from your bedroom and curled up by the fire, trying to distract yourself from the current situation at hand. 

 “Had enough of the party?” A voice called to you. You looked up, half expecting to see George but it was his twin brother standing in the doorway. 

“Uh, yeah. I don’t know I just had a lot on my mind and I wanted to sit and think away from everyone.”

“Mmm,” he responded, merely nodding his head. “I thought you’d be with George.”

“I could say the same for you. But evidently he’s escaped both of us.” You thought that would be the end of your conversation since Fred had been so short with you lately, but he surprised you by sitting next to you on the couch.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” he asked you..

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. What’s your angle here?”

“My angle? Look Fred, I don’t know why you’ve been so cold to me recently. We’ve known each other forever and I don’t get this.”

“We’ve been friends for ages, but the minute you hurt George we won’t be. He’s not like Roger, he won’t move on so easily. He’s better than a rebound.”

“I know that. He’s probably my oldest friend and I’m not willing to lose him over something stupid.”

“You don’t get it, do you? You’re taking advantage of him just because he’s giving you attention. He deserves better than that.” And with that, he stood up and walked away. You were a little taken aback. Fred had been icy toward you, but you never imagined he would confront you with such spite. You knew he was just being protective but it still hurt. You thought you were friends and the fact that he didn’t trust you with George hurt a little. It was hard knowing you couldn’t please Fred, and you doubted George would ever date someone who Fred didn’t approve of. At that moment, you considered letting Fred in on the plan, but you weren’t sure that would do any good.

You felt utterly confused. Your heart was telling you one thing while your head was in complete disagreement.  

                                                             X

George saw you make a quick exit and he knew he had messed up. He acted on impulse instead of thinking through the situation and now things were different. You may have said things were okay, but actions speak louder than words. The worst part was he didn’t even know what he should say to you. Instinctually, he wanted to follow you back to the common room where you were likely lounging. But he hadn’t the faintest idea of what he could say to remedy the situation. The worst part was everyone was now gossiping about you and approaching him for details. After one too many brush offs, he decided to leave and go for a walk to the astronomy tower. This was his spot to think and get away from everything and he knew he would be alone there.

He was confused on multiple levels. After kissing you, he was rendered speechless. The spark was everything he imagined it would be, but he wasn’t sure that feeling went both ways. You seemed so calm after everything, almost like it didn’t phase you at all. He felt stupid for thinking you might actually have feelings for him. 

But what to do next? Should he cut things off now before things changed too much? At this point, your friendship would be changing in one way or another. He could use the easy out clause to end things before the effects set in. The only downside was it seemed a little too late to pull this move. You had kissed and everyone had seen it. They assumed you were together now and it would be tough to explain a sudden separation. 

He went back and forth with both ideas and eventually decided he wouldn’t make any decisions before talking with you. You were definitely thinking a lot of things too and he didn’t want to assume he saw your side of things. 

George felt nervous walking back to the common room, as he figured you would be there, waiting for him so you could talk. You stepped into the common room and found his theory was partially correct. You were curled up by the fireplace with a book resting on your chest, sound asleep. He didn’t feel the need to wake you and normally he would’ve carried you to bed, but something about that didn’t feel right considering how you had left things. Instead, he gathered a blanket from his bed and laid it on top of you. Then he extinguished the fire that was burning and gave you a soft kiss on the forehead. 

                                                           X

 You woke up and found that you had fallen asleep on the sofa in the common room. You wish you could say this was a rare occurrence but it happened a little too often. You loved spending time in the common room by the fire where there were always a few people moving through. You spent a few nights up late reading on the couch or pulling all nighters doing homework and many times you fell asleep. The surprising thing was that there was a quilt draped over you on this particular morning. A quilt you recognized to be homemade and “Stitched with Love” by Molly Weasley. You had a similar one when you were a child and you knew this particular quilt belonged to George. you folded the quilt as you gathered the courage to approach George. You weren’t sure how he felt after last night but it seemed that you weren’t so emotional since you had the night to sleep on it. Before approaching his room, you thought about where you stood regarding this situation. You admitted to yourself that you wanted to pursue a relationship with George. But you weren’t going to. And you didn’t need Roger back, but this deal wasn’t solely for you. George was doing this for Angelina, and you didn’t want to break things off and ruin his chances with her. 

You carried the blanket in your arms and softly knocked on the door of his dormitory. The door opened shortly after and you found a bed-headed Weasley in the doorframe a moment later. A shirtless bed-headed Weasley at that. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to return this,” you said to George. A blush crept up your face as you tried to avoid looking at his bare torso.

“Oh no, it’s fine. Do you want to come in?”

“Eh, is Fred asleep?”

“No, he left for breakfast already. Please, come in. I actually wanted to talk with you after last night.”

“Oh. Okay,” you followed his recommendation and made your way into the room that was a slight mess. “Sorry to barge in on you like this,” you said as you took in his current appearance. Seeing George shirtless was making things more difficult. 

“No, you’re fine,” he said as he pulled on a sweater.  “So, about what happened last night…”

“George, you don’t have to explain it to me. I know it was just part of the role you were playing and that it didn’t mean anything. Don’t sweat it.” You were trying to convince yourself this was the truth, but you didn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth.

His face looked a little…disappointed. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was gonna say. It meant nothing,” he trailed off.

“We do need to prepare for the aftermath of it all. Rumors and gossip as well as acting coupley. I hope you’re okay with public displays of affection because I really think we need to sell this”

“Just the usual then? Hand holding, arm around the shoulders, hugging…?”

“That and more. Just follow my lead and you’ll be fine. Now I’m going to get changed and we can head down to breakfast as a couple.”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted. You scurried out of his room and walked back into your dormitory for a change in attire. The interaction went better than expected. You were worried things were going to be awkward but things seemed to return to normal pretty quickly. Now you just had to keep your feelings under control as you pretended to be a couple. No big deal.

You prepared for breakfast as quickly as you could and found George waiting for you in the common room. “Ready boyfriend?” you winked at him. He smirked back and put his arm around your shoulder. “About as ready as I’ll ever be.”

[starkidpotty]

When Will I See You Again? [RBW]

Ron’s favorite summer is the summer he met you. 

Pairing: Ron Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none–it’s absolute, pure, unadulterated fluff.

Word Count: ~5.3k

A/N: finally a fic that isnt harry hsfhasdfa i plan to make this multiple parts but let me know if u guys wud like that aaa i hope u enjoy! <3

“Fred, you are a right foul git!” cursed Ron as he chased after the twin. 

“Ron’s in love!” Fred bellowed as he held a crumpled photograph in his hand. Before Ron carelessly pounced on Fred, the twin passed the photograph to the other half of his whole, George. 

George uncrumpled the photograph to take a good look at it, “In love is Ron!” George recrumpled the photograph into a ball and threw it back at Fred, making Ron the monkey in the middle. 

Ron jumped and jumped, unable to catch the crumpled polaroid as his brothers threw it around. Fred made the mistake of passing it to Ginny, who was caught off-guard, allowing Ron to snatch it from her hands.

“Now, look at it! It’s unsalvageable!” Ron exclaimed at the polaroid. There was a fold right across the center, discoloring that part of the photograph. 

“Are you not a wizard, little brother?” Said Fred.

Ron was, of course, just not adept or knowledgeable enough to fix the muggle object. 

“Does it look like I’d know a spell to fix this? This is the only thing I have to remember her by!” Ron bellowed in anger. Fred and George merely snickered at him. 

“You make very funny faces.” George said to him, mimicking the last conversation Ron had with you. 

The teasing started the first day the Weasleys decided to take a muggle-led tour of the famed pyramids in Egypt at Arthur’s request (demand, actually). The family tried very hard to fit into the muggle-led tour group, which to their credit, they did quite well. Arthur kept his little quips at bay–with much help from Molly and Bill. Percy droned on about his guesses for Head Boy (guesses, meaning reasons as to why he was most deserving of the role) to anyone family member within earshot. Fred and George were accompanied by Charlie, who was better accustomed to muggles due to his time in Romania. Ginny quietly observed her family. While Ron, who was holding Scabbers in his right hand and a handful of wizard sweets in his left, did not notice his untied shoelaces because he tripped over them and took a muggle girl down in the process. It was a scene out of a muggle romantic comedy–13-year-old Ron swore he fell in love the moment he and your eyes met. Scabbers scattered out of his hand at the moment of impact and as he stood up, he offered her his sticky and crumby left hand. You didn’t seem to mind, as you dusted yourself, and thanked Ron for his help. Of course, Fred and George were the primary witnesses of Ron’s unfortunate incident, as they had temporarily escaped Charlie’s watchful eye.

The second day of the muggle-led tour of the pyramids, he saw you again. He tried to steer clear of Fred and George, but he could only do much in the small space in the pyramids. Luckily, Fred and George were on a mission to seal Percy in a mummy tomb and Charlie merely watched, as he was quite amused at the whole scene. As Fred and George shoved Percy into an unknown Pharaoh’s room. Ron took this chance to talk to you as he spotted you at the front of the tour group. He looked left and right, making sure his family did not notice him and he walked to you.

“Hullo,” Ron started. You didn’t notice him, as you were transfixed on the Egyptian tombs.

Ron cleared his throat in an attempt to catch her attention and he repeated, “Hullo.” 

You finally turned to him, “‘Hello,”

Oh merlin, she’s French, Ron thought, as the sound of your accent sounded like harps and the gates of heaven themselves opening. He kept himself grounded as he reminded himself that you were essentially a muggle-girl who could not understand wizard things and should he slip, it’ll be only his mother’s voice he’d have to hear. 

“Er–hullo, I want to apologize, for tripping you yesterday in King Tut’s tomb yesterday.” 

“Oh! There is no–what is the word–problem, thank you again–er–for, for, helping me up.” You said, fishing for the translations of the French words you knew. 

By Merlin’s left tit, Ron swore up and down he was already in love with her. Her hair was shiny and soft, her eyes glittering, and lips so full. It was hard to concentrate, it was almost as though he were in a trance. 

“Is it your first time in Egypt?” Ron continued. Fred and George emerged from the tomb of the unknown pharaoh, unsuccessful in their plight to banish Percy. They did not meddle with Ron’s feeble attempt at female interaction, but instead sniggered at the sight of it. 

Ron himself was quite taken aback with his behavior, as he was talking to a girl–a member of the opposite sex, someone who was not his mother or his sister or Hermione. You were a pretty girl too, and this all the more heightened his nerves. Ron was exercising so much control over his words so as not to spill the secrets of the wizarding world to a 13-year-old girl that his head was spinning. The polite conversation was riddled with small talk, the normal exchanging of basic information such as names, ages, and where  you were from. 

Arthur spotted Ron, eyes wide. His son, his very immature & unaccustomed-to-muggles son (relative to himself, of course), was conversing with a muggle, all while his damned broken wand was poking out of his pocket. Arthur rushed to Ron’s side, and Ron hadn’t seemed to notice–too busy ogling you. Arthur put an arm around Ron, effectively startling him. 

“Good day! Might I borrow my son for a minute?” He says to you. You nod and watch Ron as he gets whisked away by his father. 

Arthur didn’t know whether to scold him or egg him on–it was a muggle he was talking to! Everything he’d want to know about muggles from the perspective of a 13-year-old girl right there. Then Arthur imagined the scolding he’d get from Molly if he chose the former. So, he lectured Ron on the dangers of revealing the secrets of the wizarding world to a muggle, citing an incident he’d had recently at work when a Muggle walked in on he and his fellow co-workers during a raid. 

“The obliviate charm, though quite useful, was a nasty thing to inflict onto somebody and I wouldn’t want  to do that to her.” Arthur told Ron. Ron didn’t care to listen to his father and began to imagine your face on his father’s to make the lecture more bearable. Arthur kept Ron glued to his hip the rest of the tour for the day until they made it back to Bill’s flat.

The third day was the most eventful yet, as the tour group finally had their last group lunch at an authentic Egyptian muggle restaurant. Ron took this as his last opportunity to interact with his muggle-tour-group crush and indiscreetly took a seat next to you. Unfortunately for Ron, Fred and George decided upon the seats across him and you. Ron tried so hard to talk to you, he really did, but he was worse off than yesterday. He was skidding over his words like a car whose tires popped and the steel was grinding itself across the road. Fred and George didn’t even hide the fact they were making fun of him, making kissy noises and drawing hearts in the air with their fingers. It was a miracle you ignored them, and even more of a miracle you paid attention to Ron. Your mother saw the sight and took out her polaroid camera. 

“[Y/N], [Y/N]! Look at me, my love!” Your mom said as she clicked the camera, film printing from the slot. She shook it to make it develop faster. The picture was ghastly–your eyes were half-closed with a forkful of spaghetti in your mouth and Ron’s face was contorted into a cross between a sneeze and anger. 

“How about another one, for good measure? Yes?” Your mother proposed. You shyly inched closer to Ron, and you swear you hear him gulp. You smile and Ron partly does the same (he was never really quite good at modulating his expressions, so now instead of a cross between a sneeze and anger, it was now fear pretending to be happy). 

Your mother hands you both pictures after they’ve fully developed, and you give Ron the second one. 

“I like how silly we look here,” You reasoned to him, beaming. Ron was going to explode. 

“Oh yes, me too.” He replied, shaking his polaroid of the two of you to get it to move, forgetting for a moment it came from a muggle camera. You chuckle at him. 

“You make very funny faces, it’s, uh, very amusing.” You mused. Ron turned red to his ears. 

“You should’ve seen the faces I made when I threw up slugs!” Ron laughed, then his face straightened to a stony expression. 

“Slugs?” You asked. At this point Ron was panicking and he sent a side-eye to Fred & George, who were laughing even harder than before. 

“Candied slugs,” Ron managed to say quickly

“Candied slugs?” You repeated, “That sounds so, er, awful! Disgusting, yes? Why would you eat such an ‘orrible thing?” 

Ron was pink to the ears.

“Well, er, candied slugs….are a delicacy?” Ron could not help but sound confused with the lie he was making up. You furrowed your brows. 

“In England?” You ask. 

“Only up north?” He asks with a very highlighted question mark. 

“Up north?” You couldn’t wrap your head around it, who the hell ate candied slugs in England? 

“It’s quite rare, might I add. Only a few mugg–” Ron stopped himself again, “people, I mean make them.” 

“Really, uh, candied slugs?” 

“Yes. Blimey, the feeling you when they go back up your throat!” Ron laughed, trying to keep his cool. “Well, what do you have in France? I reckon it's much better than slugs.” 

You tell him about the wonders of French culture, especially about food. Ron tries very hard to ask the questions, and you answer them. Lunch ends, signalling the end of the tour. All the members of the tour group finish their food, pay their share of the bills–Arthur took his time with muggle Egyptian money as he’d never see any other muggle currency aside from the British pound. When all was said and done, everyone stood up and went their separate ways. You stood, and so did Ron. 

Turning to him, you say,“It was, uh, nice to have someone my age ‘ere.” You were compelled to hug him, and you do. Ron was flushed, flustered, redder than his family’s signature red hair. His face looked like hues of red at a paint shop. Ron didn’t hug back due to shock, but you paid it no mind. You left as your mother called you to her, you skipped towards her happy to have made a friend in your time in Egypt. Ron stood there, almost in a petrificus-totalus-like state, staring at you as you walked away from him. Fred and George laughed at Ron incessantly. They made fun of him the whole walk back to Bill’s flat. Ron knew that he’d never see you again, but he resigned to replaying the last conversation you and he had. 

Ron’s remaining time in Egypt saw him thinking about you endlessly, it was the most teenageric thing he’d done thus far. The rest of the weeks were spent doing usual Weasley family activities, far away from muggles now, much to Arthur’s dismay. Bill gave them tours of the tombs he’d broken curses at and the satellite Gringotts office. The vacation ended and the Weasleys were well on their way back home with Ron still thinking about you all the way to Burrow. 

At the Leaky Cauldron, he told Hermione and Harry what he could about you. Harry was quite supportive of the whole escapade, while Hermione rolled her eyes and told him off as you were probably just being nice. The initial crush faded as the year progressed, but Ron still thought about you from time to time, wondering if you were enjoying home and if he’d ever run into you should he find himself in muggle France. He’d find you being the topic of conversation when he was alone with Harry–to avoid an earful from Hermione–on days where there would be nothing to talk about. He’d run through hypothetical situations and ask Harry how he should act around a muggle to not scare them off. 

His last conversation with you would occasionally creep up in his mind before he’d go to bed at Gryffindor tower, smiling at the thought of it. 

“Some girls really are something else,” Ron would think before drifting off to sleep, the crumpled polaroid hidden in his sock drawer. 

___ 

Year 3 at Hogwarts came and passed, Ron made it through in one piece, now without a pesky Scabbers by his side as it was revealed to have been Peter Pettigrew. He now had longer hair, more defined features, and grew a few inches taller. Summer was eventful to say the least with his family and his two best friends going to the Quidditch world cup and it being attacked by Death Eaters. He still thought about you from time to time in passing but not as obsessively as in the 3rd year. Yours and his interaction became an anecdote–the time Ron finally talked to a girl who wasn’t family or Hermione and almost slipped the secrets of the wizarding world to. Fred and George would not let him forget. 

“...This year, Hogwarts will play host to a legendary event: the Triwizard Tournament. During which time a single student gets to represent his or her school in a series of magical contests. Eternal glory awaits the student who wins the tournament.” Bellowed Dumbledore from his stand at the front of the hall. Ron was too busy working at his chicken pot pie, but picked up keywords from Dumbledore’s speech in between bites–Triwizard tournament, eternal glory. Dumbledore’s speech was interrupted by a frantic Filch running through the aisle of the Great Hall, clutching Mrs. Norris in his hands. He whispered a few words to Dumbledore, and Dumbledore continued. Ron had moved on from his chicken pot pie to the mashed potatoes drowning in the signature Hogwarts gravy. 

“...For now, please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and their headmistress Madame Maxime!” At once, the doors of the Great Hall burst open, giving sight to the students of Beauxbatons. 

Ron’s head was still down as he was basically breathing in the mashed potatoes, even though he knew that there would be plenty of mashed potatoes to go around. Seamus, sat to his left, accidentally nudged him thinking he was Dean, causing Ron to look up. Ron’s eyes immediately darted to the Beauxbatons girls who made quite an entrance with butterflies erupting from their sides. Ron was ogling them, now ignoring the mashed potatoes in front of him, his chin resting on his hand. He stared at them all, darting from girl to girl, focusing on them a few seconds each. His eyes moved down the line of girls, until he reached the last student–you. 

Ron froze, not out of fear, but out of utter shock. It was you, in the flesh–the muggle girl he had tripped in King Tut’s tomb a year prior to now. Of course now, he realized you were not a muggle, but a wizard like him. You were still gracefully dancing around as rehearsed, your arms extending and flexing forward like a ballerina. Ron was still staring at you. 

Hermione snapped her fingers at his face, “Excuse me! Women aren’t objects!”

“It’s her.” Ron simply stated. Hermione looked at Harry from across the table in confusion. 

“Who?” Harry asked. 

“D’you remember the muggle girl I kept talking about last year? She isn’t a muggle, she’s literally right there, in the flesh, prancing around, butterflies shooting out of her sides! Blimey, she’s a witch!” Ron exclaimed.

His two friends turned their heads to the front of the Great Hall, where you were bowing down. You and your fellow classmates separated among the four tables in the Great Hall, with you to the Gryffindor table. Ron was watching you the whole time until you sat at the table, only a few students away from him. 

Harry was in disbelief, unwilling to believe Ron, “Merlin, Ron, are you sure?”

Fred and George noticed Ron’s awestruck face and shifted around a few fellow Gryffindors to get to their little brother. 

“Georgie, it seems as though Ron has his eye on a certain French lady,” Fred starts. The twins follow Ron’s line of sight, landing on you.

“Blimey, Freddie, she looks familiar does she not?” George notices. 

Fred squints, “Good god, isn’t that girl you couldn’t,” 

George continues, “Wouldn’t” 

Fred says, “Stop talking about?”

George connects, “Every hour,”

“Of every day, last summer to now?” finishes Fred, finally. Fred and George turn to each other in amazement, wondering how they’ll be spending the next year torturing Ron. 

“Why don’t you go up to her and offer her some candied slugs then, little brother? It’s a delicacy in Northern England! Up north, yes!” George says mimicking 13-year-old Ron’s voice.

“Shove off, George,” Ron mutters as he brings his attention back down to his mashed potatoes, trying to calm himself down. He was picking at the plate with his spoon, tossing around the meal carelessly. 

You were enjoying a classic Hogwarts meal of baked chicken and potatoes, while a first-year sat beside you making chit-chat. The student knew just as much as you did about Hogwarts, but you hung onto every word. A girl in front of you at you and back down at her plate. You caught her eye and you both smiled. 

“‘Ello,” You say to her. She seemed to have gone as red as her hair. 

“Hello,” She replied to you shyly. 

“My name is [Y/N],” You say smiling at her. 

The girl paused and smiled back, “I’m Ginny.”

A pause ensues. 

“Sorry for, er, staring, you just seem so familiar,” Ginny says to you. 

“Oh? Sorry, I do not remember you,” You say remorsefully. “It is my first time here at Hogwarts, I’ve never met anyone from here.” “It’s in the face is all,” Ginny smiles at you, before returning to her food. The Durmsrang fellows finished their introduction into the Great Hall, breathing fire and finding their places at different Hogwarts tables. A bulky Durmstrang boy finds a spot next to you, and you both exchange niceties and finish your meals. 

Ron finally clears his plate of the mashed potatoes. Fred and George were recounting the events in Egypt to Lee, who was now laughing at Ron as well. Hermione finished her meal and got up, beckoning Ron to go with them, as they had classes the next day. Harry, however, was looking at Ron and back at you, shooting a look at him–like he was egging him on. Ron instead decides to get up to go back to the common rooms, and Harry, a little disappointed, follows. 

The hall of students seem to finish their meals the same time as you, as one by one they leave their seats. Your fellow Beauxbaton classmates leave their seats as well, as Madame Maxime gave full permission to explore the grounds and fraternize with other Hogwarts students, so as long as they return to her by a certain period. Ginny gets up in front of you to join her other friends, and you contemplate on your next move. You get up from your table and saunter towards her. 

“Uh, Ginny, yes?” You ask her, as she spins around to meet you. 

“Yes, [Y/N]?” she responds neutrally. 

“I would just like to say–ask, I think is a better word–if we could be friends? I know not much about Hogwarts or anything, really,” You question, “You seem very nice,”

Ginny is taken aback, but gladly obliges. She introduces you to her group of friends, and you try to keep their names in mind. 

“Bloody hell,” Ron exclaims.

“What now, Ronald?” Hermione complains. 

“I forgot my bloody wand in the Hall, d’you mind?” He asks her. Without waiting for a response, he runs back to the hall and spots you, Ginny, and her friends stopped to the side while groups of students pour out the hall. He freezes in place foo two reasons: (1) He is absolutely mesmerized by your face, (2) you’re talking to his little sister. He takes a few steps to where he was sat a few minutes ago and grabs his wand. He could do two things right about now–leave or make up some pathetic excuse to talk to Ginny, and by extension talk to you. 

He chose the latter. 

He was rehearsing all kinds of stupid excuses to talk to Ginny and veer the conversation to you.

“Ginny! Mom sent you a howler, telling you off for being annoying, I mean I could tell you that myself.” 

“Ginny! Hermione says your hair looked greasy today, you should probably start a fight.” 

“Ginny! Remember when you poured your heart to a diary and almost got the life sucked out of by You-Know-Who in the flesh?” 

He was distracted and by the time he reaches you and Ginny and her friends, he’s stone-faced. His blood goes cold and a sweat starts to trickle on the nape of his neck.

“Hello, hello, uh,” He stammers. Ginny looks at him, in turn making you look at him. He sees you now, up close. You’ve grown a lot since that summer in Egypt. Your lips fuller, your hair longer, and you’ve grown into your features. You were sporting a paler look than you had last seen him, but he still thought you were glowing. 

“Slugs–” He starts out. Ron didn’t know why he began with slugs. Ginny gives him a bizarre look and your eyes widen. It’s as though your brain was flipping through pages of memories and it finally landed on the page it was looking for–Egypt, 1993.

“It’s you!” You exclaimed. Ginny was now giving you a bizarre look. “You were the boy who ate slugs, correct?” Ron was so nervous, and he felt all his blood pooling in his face. 

“What did you say then, er,– candied, yes?” Ron was silent through this, he was unaware of what to say. 

Ginny’s eyes light up, as she finally put two and two together, “You’re the french muggle girl Ron went on about!”

“He went on about me?” You questioned. Ginny’s friend’s had sensed this was a conversation amongst the three of you, and left, telling her they’d meet her in the common room and left. 

Ginny’s arms were now crossed against her chest, looking between you and Ron. You took off the signature Beauxbaton hat and fixed your hair, now conscious of the way you looked. Ron was too nervous to fix himself. Half his button-up was untucked and peeking from underneath his sweater, his collar was lopsided and his tie was arbitrarily knotted into a poor excuse of a windsor. He was transfixed on you, studying your features as though he were making sure that it was really you he tripped at King Tut’s tomb a year ago. 

Ginny turned to her brother, and their eyes met, gesturing him to talk. Ron opened his mouth but his vocal chords refused him any vibration. You stared at him, as the gears grinded in his head. 

“Er, I wouldn’t say went on about you,” Ron explained

“Wouldn’t say? Don’t lie, Ron.” Ginny said. Ron looked at her annoyedly, and Ginny smiled in return. 

You smile, “Is it true you eat candied slugs here?”

Ginny chortles, “Candied slugs?”

“Is it not, uh, a delicacy? He told me that last year,” You ask, pointing to Ron

“Blimey…” Ron mutters. Ginny laughs. He reasons, “I thought you were a muggle.” You shoot him a puzzled look, “Muggle?”

“Normal, non-magic,” Ginny cuts in. Ron shoots her another look. 

“Oh? Did, uh, I look not magical?” You ask jokingly. 

“You were more than magical,” Ron says in a dream-like tone. 

You fluster at his words and Ginny’s face turns into a disgusted look. 

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Ginny says, turning her heel to exit the hall. Ron pleads at Ginny through his eyes, but she takes no notice and leaves him with you. 

A pause takes you both. You recollect yourself, planning out what you want to say to Ron.

“I still have our, uh, polaroid.” You say warmly at Ron. He feels lighter, more comfortable knowing you kept the little piece of memorabilia from Egypt. 

“So do I!” He exclaims, too enthusiastically. He sinks back down into composure, silently scolding himself for the unwanted burst of energy. “I thought you weren’t a witch, honestly.”

You smile, “I could see your wand.”

Ron blushes fiercely, shades of red slowly taking place on his face, soon it becomes so strong, it’s enough to rival his hair, “I-I’m sorry?”

“Your, uh, wand. It was held together, by, uh, tape.” You declare. 

Ron sighed in relief, “You did?” 

“Yes, it was in your back pocket the whole time, no?” 

“Call me daft, I really thought no one would notice.” 

“It’s why I thought you knew I was a witch,” You say. “I didn’t care to point it, er, out.” 

Ron laughed humorlessly. 

“Would you, er, care to show me around the castle?” You ask him. Ron inhaled deeply and his mouth crunched into himself, a habit that showed when he was nervous. 

He carefully pushed a bang out of his face, before responding, “Uhm, okay.” 

Ron feigns gentlemanliness, gesturing you to the exit of the hall. His feet don’t move in tune with each other, causing him to lose balance. He utters choice words, but you don’t seem to notice. You walk towards the exit and Ron is right behind you, eyeing you up and down, while whispering a strained bloody hell. 

As Harry and Hermione waited for Ron at the hall doors, they were surprised to see you come out first with him on your tail. Hermione’s jaw dropped and Harry’s face lit up in approval. 

“‘Ello!” You greeted them, “My name is [Y/N]!” 

Harry’s eyes were wide, blinking away; Hermione scoffed in Ron’s direction. Ron merely shrugged, one of his bangs falling over his right eye. You looked back at Ron and at them, smiling. You were absolutely oblivious to the unspoken conversation the three were having amongst themselves. Ron’s head tilts in your direction, begging with Harry to say something. 

“I’m Harry, Ron has told us so much about you, this here is Hermione,” Harry says, gesturing to her. Ron panics silently and makes a pained noise, causing you to look back at him. Harry is losing it and trying very hard to stay composed. Hermione is still silent, looking at you and looking back at Ron.

“Has he?” You ask Hermione and Harry. 

“Oh, loads.” Says Harry simply. Ron wants to die. 

“Er, why don’t we walk her around for a bit, yeah?” Ron takes you by the wrist, shuffling between Harry and Hermione. Hermione looks to Harry in disapproval, arms crossed. Harry shrugs and follows Ron. 

Hermione catches up to Harry and whispers angrily, “What? Like she’s a dog?”

Hermione decides to leave the group, taking a right to the moving staircases, and she drags Harry along with her, much to his dismay. Ron was alone with you now. 

The walk around the castle was quiet but you didn’t seem to mind. Ron was looking at you the whole time, looking away when you looked at him. Ron was taken back with how you were willingly donating your time to him, when you could have joined the Durmstrang boy who sat next to you during the feast. He could swear you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Though he was supposed to be leading you around Hogwarts, he was letting you lead and following you like a puppy. 

You two finally stop at the courtyard, taking a seat on the grass. Ron stays standing, hands in pockets, pushing his cloak back. He’s looking around, avoiding your gaze. You catch his eye and pat the grass next to you. He cautiously sits down and assumes a long-sit. It is silent for a while, as you are basking in the moonlight. Ron is holding his breath, trying to emulate your relaxed demeanor but failing miserably. 

“I think it’s important to tell you,” You start, breaking the silence, “I’m part veela.” 

Ron is bewildered, “Veela?” 

“I think it is why you are so nervous around me,” 

“Nervous? Who said I was nervous?” He chuckles humorlessly and boomerangs back to a neutral expression. You laugh in response. 

“It’s not really an, uh, intended effect. It comes with it, like how you are a wizard who does magic. Veelas attract other people very much so.” 

“Oh,” Ron musters as a response. He stays silent, and so do you. It gets dark quickly, and you shoot up immediately. 

“I didn’t realize how late it has gotten!” You exclaim to Ron, who stands quickly. You dust off your uniform, while Ron watches you. You’re quite the sight under the stars and Ron is absolutely lovestruck. “Madame Maxime will, as the English say, have my head.” 

Ron smiles at you, unable to muster an answer as your smile is distracting and mesmerizing and simply put, beautiful. You grab his hand and pull him closer, landing a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you for bringing me around,” You whisper in a hug. As you pull away, you continue, “I hope to see you around again Don’t, uh, worry. I think I can find my way back.”

Ron is staring at you, rubbing his palm over his cheek. You giggle and walk back the same route you came. Ron is behind you again, looking you up and down again, while whispering a signature bloody hell again. He sees you walk down the hall until he can no longer see your figure and he makes his way back to the common room. 

Harry is waiting on the sofa, as Hermione tucked herself in an hour before. 

“I’m in love!” exclaims Ron to Harry. “I think I love her. I love her.” 

Harry laughs in response.

“I’m not joking, mate!” Ron says to him in a serious tone. “I have to see her again.”

“Alright, you aren’t joking!” Harry replies back strongly. 

“Harry, I mean it I have to see her again!” Ron says again, with such a remarkable tone of desperation in his voice. His face is so close to Harry’s, Harry wrings his head backward for protection.

“They’ll be here the whole year, Ron. You don’t have to worry.” 

Ron is satisfied with Harry’s answer, and wordlessly climbs up the stairs to his bed. He makes a beeline for his sock drawer, thrashing it open, throwing sock after sock out of it until he finds the polaroid of you two together. He lays it on his bed, photo in hand, resting it on his chest. He repeats your name with a smile on his face. He doesn’t bother to change out of his school clothes, and falls asleep hoping to see you the next day and the day after that and the day after that. 

-- 

part 2? lmk! <3 

masterlist here 

[ardentmuse]

Four Times Fred Weasley Proposed to You... And the One Time He Meant It (Fred Weasley x Reader)

Harry Potter - Fred Weasley x fem!Reader

Summary: The title says it all. Just read it ;)

Wordcount: 4.7k (I’m trash)

Warnings: fluff, sex, cursing - basically my holy trinity, and AU where Fred lives (which is the only universe I live in) 

Masterlist

A/N: Toddle started daycare yesterday and I learned that I churn out about 1k worlds per hour if I don’t have a kid crawling on me. Today is also my wedding anniversary for fluff felt right. A request from anon! 

I.

The candles floating high under the vaulted ceiling are the only things that don’t shake with the uproar of cheers, especially from the seventh years, that accompany Dumbledore’s announcement of return of the Triwizard Tournament. Fred bumps elbows with his twin, whom he simply knows is already conspiring to rig this thing in their favor. Fame, glory, prize money – everything they need to set themselves up for success is being presented on a golden platter – or rather in a wooden goblet. But they don’t have the opportunity to conspire before the room falls hush at the gentle lowering of Dumbledore’s willowy arms.

“Please join me in welcoming the students of Beauxbaton Academy of Magic and their headmistress Madame Maxine,” Dumbledore’s voice bellows, but to Fred it is but a whisper. The doors to the Great Hall have already opened and towards the front of the group of impressively dressed students, their jackets pristinely fitted and their skirts flared in a way that hints so nicely at the shapely things that certainly reside beneath them. Fred’s baser brain, the part that, as a sixteen year old, gives power and life to many of his higher-level functions, completely takes over. His eyes roam the group, landing on a stunning creature, third from the left whose straightened back, bright smile, and flushed face from the chill of the castle night are enough to make his mouth grow dry and his palms sweat with anticipation. 

But then you begin your dance – if it could even be called a dance. You skip forward like an elegant ballerina, your neck tall and your chest out the way a swan might look upon the lesser creatures within its pond, elegant but superior. And Fred minds not one bit being the scum that lines your lakeside domain. With light steps you descend upon the Great Hall, down the path on which he sits. And as you grow closer, you open your hands, releasing blue mist and butterflies upon the crowd, like a siren singing a song to lure in the ships at sea. 

A few more pranced steps and you are standing right beside him. He watches with baited breath as your skirts flow and twist. You lean forward with special flourish, flicking your wrists and humming in unison with your cohort. Your fingers lightly brush against Fred’s cheek as he ebbs closer in rapture. 

“Marry me,” he whispers, which draws your eyes away from the front of the hall to meet the man sitting right beside you. A simple turn of his head has his lips gently brushing against your fingertips and the piercing of his cinnamon eyes catches your breath in your chest. You miss your next step, so beguiled by this handsome man before you, broad and freckled and just the teeniest bit unobtainable in the way that confidence seems to radiate off him. 

You bite your lips as you quickly make your leave, returning to the perfectly choreographed dance that seems to have enchanted more than just the eldest Weasley twin. 

George’s elbow lands squarely in the soft space below Fred’s ribs. 

“Oi, Freddie, what the hell was that?” George asks as the room rises in applause for their new guests.

George searches Fred’s face for answers. Across from him, both Angelina and Hermione seem to be brooding in equal measure. Ron is busy picking his jaw off the floor. But for Fred, all he could do is search the room for the figure whose shape is now buried deep in his mind and whose soft fingertips he can still feel upon his lips. 

He finds you taking your seat at the Ravenclaw table beside Roger Davies, who is all too eager to move his cloak and offer you water. Something primal rises in Fred, hot bile in his gut at the sight of Davies’ hand brushing against your wrist as you turn to speak with him. But as if feeling Fred’s presence, you flick up your gaze to lock with his and almost immediate you look away. But Fred is satisfied if the way you are biting your lip and hiding so delicately behind your hat is any indication that you might be feeling the exact same electric charge between you that he is.

“I don’t know, George. I really don’t know.” 

II.

The spring sun warms the courtyard as the visiting students say their goodbyes to Hogwarts and the witches and wizards that call it home. Fred and George sit on the stone wall of the archway, overlooking the chaos of tearful hugs and exchanged promises to write, respectful handshakes and gossipy giggles. 

“So much emotion for something so simple as a goodbye,” George says as he pulls at the leaves of the bush just starting to bud beside him, “Does everyone forget we have magic? Owls, portkeys, floo networks, and the works? It’s not goodbye forever, you know?” 

Fred’s eyes scan the courtyard until he finds the top of your head standing in a circle of Beauxbaton students who are wishing farewell to their Hufflepuff friends, offering elongated hugs and whispered words of comfort to those mourning the loss of Diggory. 

You pull away from a puffy-eyed girl, handing her a notecard, which Fred assumes has your address on it, and turn your eyes up on catch him staring at you. You blush – at least he thinks you do at this distance – and turn your attention back to the young Gryffindor who has just tapped you on the shoulder. Fred closes his eyes. 

“Well, George, sometimes even a goodbye for now can be more than you’re willing to accept.” 

George looks to see Fred’s eyes still closed, his head lulled to the side in a look that can only be described as painful longing. 

“Speaking in general or personal there, dear brother? A certain French girl I caught you snogging have anything to do with—“ 

“George,” you say, interrupting their hushed conversation. George smiles almost too wickedly at your appearance. “And Fred,” you say, turning your eyes to the boy who has consumed so many of your thoughts these past few months. 

At hearing your voice, Fred’s head pops up from its angst-filled recline against the stone castle wall. The wide saucers take you in like a man dying of thirst. 

You clear your throat and move your head to take in both twins. “I just want to say that I will miss you and your laughter. You have both made my time here at Hogwarts a pleasant one.” Your smile seems forced, but Fred cannot tell why. 

“And it has been a pleasure getting to know you as well, my dearest mademoiselle,” George says in his best accent, swallowing the first “e” the way you taught him to do so precisely. “Quite the pleasure for one of us, I might say.” 

Fred turns near crimson at his brother’s coaxing and your own eyes find rest starring down at your lap. 

“Well, yes,” you stammer, knowing full well this was George’s intention but not being skilled enough to overcome its impact, “For me, too.” 

You feel a hand come under your chin, and your eyes come up to meet the very bright, but very pleased face of Fred Weasley. 

“You are a pleasure,” he says for just your ears, his thumb running across your chin as your face grows hot at his attentions. 

“You know, I’m not sure I want to go home,” you admit, looking up at the cute boy before you from under your lashes. His Adam’s Apple bobs at your minor seduction. “I have quite come to like your country.” 

“I could marry you,” he says as his hand finds the curve of your neck, “Then they couldn’t take you away. I hear Ministry visas are quite a valuable commodity these days.” 

You laugh, deep and hearty, the kind of laugh you have come to know so often as your friendship has blossomed with the twins. 

You hand a card to Fred, not a tiny index card like the kind he watch you hand your other friends, but a proper greeting card, with a beautiful calligraphed, “My Fred,” on the envelope. 

“Maybe you can write me sometime, if you want? I’d love to know how the business comes along.” 

Fred’s fingers trace the curves and bends of the ‘my’ so thoughtfully placed before his name. 

When Fred says nothing, his eyes so drawn to the paper, George pipes up with an, “Of course, love. We’ll be sure to.”

“Okay,” you whisper, but Fred’s attention is still elsewhere. With a swallow, you say, “Bye, then,” and with a tiny wave, returned by George alone, you turn on your heels and head for your carriage. 

George stares down at his brother, whose fingers have already gone to rip at the letter, to see its contents and pray that its words align with the flutter he feels in his chest right now. 

Opening the envelope releases a frill of blue dust and butterflies, scented like your shampoo, which he is ashamed to say he knows now. An index card with an address, just like the ones you gave the others sits inside, along with a note, long and eloquent about how you’ve enjoyed the time you’ve shared together, the laughter and the kisses, too, but it is the last two lines that gets him right in his throat, his heart beating faster than he can ever remember it doing before. 

“You are the sweetest man I’ve ever known, Fred Weasley, and I pray one day when I know love, it will be with someone who makes me smile, makes me think, and makes me feel as beautiful as you have in these few short months. Who knows, maybe that someone will even be you.”  

Finally, Fred hears George screaming his name, the tone of which makes it clear to him this was not the first yell. 

“What!” Fred finally screams back, his hands gripping tightly on the parchment he holds.

“You didn’t even say bye to her, mate.”

Fred whips around to see a line of soft blue suits taking the stairs into their Abraxan-drawn carriages, the boys of the school offering softly cupped hands to the girls as they ascend. Fred jumps the stone wall into the courtyard, not caring for the height of the fall and sprints through the crowds, pushing a few first year students in the process until his hand grabs yours just as you take your first steps away from Hogwarts. 

You spin around at the tug. When Fred sees your face, slightly obscured by your hat, his chest hurts at the sight of the tear lines that clearly flow down your cheeks. 

He pulls you to him quickly, catching you in his arms as you partially tumble down the stairs towards him. He kisses you before you can even recover, to the hoots and hollers of some of the younger students, which earns them the scolding of a surprisingly softhearted McGonagall. 

Fred’s lips are all pressure, as though movement might take you further away from him. He is locked in the moment, securing you to him and into his memory for as long as he may have you.

When he finally pulls away, he runs his hands along the sides of your face and your forehead, like memorizing every shape and detail.

“Goodbye, my Fred,” you say to him, you eyes still saddened, still hurt but the parting, but all the more healed for the confirmation that this is hurting Fred too.

“Goodbye for now, my princess.” 

And so you walk away, your hands lingering together as Fred does his best to help you up the stairs and into your carriage, his precious swan princess preparing for her journey home. 

A few minutes later, Fred returns to his brother, who still sits on the stone but is now holding the envelope and letter that Fred discarded in his pursuit of you. George offers a slow clap of appreciation at Fred’s grand gesture.

“Georgie, how much money do you think we have for the summer? Enough to restock and still have extra?” 

“Why are you asking?” George hands the precious parchment over to Fred for safe keeping.

Fred just stares down into his hands, at your words and your script and the remains of your magic and your scent. 

“I think I have to go to France.” 

III.

“You keep cooking like this and I’ll have to make a kept woman out of you, you know,” Fred teases as he grabs yet another of the Christmas cookies you have just pulled from the cooling racks. You swat his hand away but not quickly enough to stop him from adding another handful to the collection already lining his plate and pockets. “Trying to impress my mother with baked goods is a very good idea but completely unnecessary. She’s going to love you. She already loves you for how happy you make me.” 

“Are you sure?” you ask as you continue to turn over the cookies, packing the ones with the best looking bottoms into festive tin to take with you to Ottery St. Catchpole.

Fred’s hand grabs as your wrist as you nervously rearrange the cookies ones more, “I’m absolutely certain.” 

A few moments pass as Fred hums happily, crunching down one cookie after another before you speak up once more. “A kept woman, ye? I hope I might be more to you someday than just someone to fulfill your desires.” 

Fred’s mouth curls into a Cheshire grin as drops his plate once more against the countertop. “And what’s so wrong with fulfilling my desires? Hmmm?” 

You can’t help but smile too as you toss your oven mitts aside. 

“Nothing,” you hum absentmindedly, leaning into Fred’s game. “Other than that I have desires of my own.” 

Fred creeps around the counter, taking in your form as the aprons strings hug tightly at your waist. In one deft motion, Fred has you pinned so fiercely against the counter you worry he might actually take a bit of you instead of the desserts you have spent all morning making. 

“Well,” he whispers into the soft of your ears, sending shivers down your spin, “Make me a kept man and we can live a life filled with unending pleasures.” And with the purr of the last word, he dives down to taste the salted hollow of your neck. 

“Two kept people is just a marriage,” you manage to get out before the sweet suction upon you pulse makes you lose your breath and, with it, your composure. 

“Then married we shall be.” His lips tickle against your collarbone before making the ascent back up your neck towards your chin. “Married, happy, fat off cookies,” he says between kisses. “And drunk off desire,” he whispers, leaving a final, long, bruising kiss upon your lips. 

You are pulled from your daze by the call of George’s voice in the shop below the apartment, telling you his mother would be quite disappointed if you found yourself running late for Christmas dinner because you were too busy making her grandbabies. 

As he pulls away, Fred runs a fingertip, slow, across your bottom lip, feeling the swell his kisses put there. 

“I’m keeping you,” he says to your lips before meeting your eyes. For a moment, his look is deep with longing, but quickly he smiles and the mask of play returns to his bright features as he snatches the packaged cookies off the counter and pulls you out of the room to meet up with his twin. 

IV.

“That’s it, love,” Fred breathes into your hair as you tighten the grip of your thighs around his hips. The sweat from his brow rolls down your neck sending shivers across your already prickled skin. Fred’s arms grip at your hips, desperate and needy. You can’t help but admire the taut muscles of his shoulders, round and firm in exertion. Even now, long after all the quidditch training and regular exercise, the lines of him are still subtle perfection. 

A bite at your ear pulls your eyes away. And the rocking of his firm length deep inside you pulls your mind away, too. 

On instinct, you roll your hips to meet his needy thrusts, finding a rhythm so right that you each let out a satisfied groan. You grip tight into the shoulders you love so much, digging your chin into his neck as you work yourself against him, pulling your pleasure from him as much as he is from you.

“Merlin,” Fred breathes as he seizes your chin so he may look in your eyes. He pins your hips once more with his rough hand, pounding into you long and slow.  “You’re perfect,” he says before kissing you deeply, the action pressing your entire personage further into the mattress, all parts of him consuming you wholly.

As his hand moves from your hipbone to brush against your sex, you feel the tightening that Fred so easily can pull from you, the sweet anticipation of a cascade of relief that marks your lovemaking as something necessary. His fingers deftly work you in time with his hips and soon you are falling off that cliff with only his strong arms to catch you. 

Fred groans at the feel of your orgasm, finding his own in the sweet music your body plays for him. And as he releases himself in your depths, your body quakes once more with the pleasurable feel of it. 

Exhausted and spent, Fred lays himself upon you, chest to chest, the weight of him a welcome reminder of the real world to which your brain has just returned. 

“I can’t wait to make you my wife,” Fred says into the darkness of your bedroom.

You laugh – or at least as much as you can with his weight bearing down upon your chest. You take in his nose now resting against your shoulder, the soft freckles decorating the bridge, the pink of the creases now coated in a pleasant sheen of sweat. He pops up his eyes to meet yours in unspoken question.

“The feeling’s mutual,” you smile. You run your hands through his hair, hoping to ease the worry you feel from him. 

Fred rolls off of you to lie on his side, mischief dancing in his eyes. 

“You also can’t wait to make me your wife?”

You turn to see Fred lounging casually upon the mattress, his nudity fully on display as he shows off his body for you with a flourish. 

“Can you not resist these womanly curves?” He almost can’t keep the smile off his face. 

You lunge towards him, but he’s quicker. He hops off the bed and runs down the hallway before you can even extract yourself from the covers. The last thing you see is that cute, firm butt of his round the corner towards the kitchen. 

“Shall your wife bring you tea?” He calls in a mocking high-pitched voice from the depths of your home. You toss a pillow at the door, and as it plops, Fred laughs. 

And just as you feel the glow of your orgasm begin to subside, Fred walks through the door with two steaming cups. He sets them down on the bedside table before kneeling before you. Only then do you notice the silliness is gone from his face, replaced with the hint of nerves and raw emotion you saw only a hint of in your afterglow.

“I’m not joking, you know,” he says as he grabs at your knuckles, “I’d like to marry you someday, make this beautiful, precious thing we have permanent, assuming you want that too.” 

And with a look into those beautiful brown orbs of his, you nod. 

V.

You cling tightly to Fred’s back as his broom zooms between the snowy peaks of the Pyrenees. The castle in which you spent your formative years seems but a speck off in the distance as you direct Fred along a saddle of the range and towards the cliff face just beyond.

“There,” you point towards the gap in the trees on the north face. The rush of the wind as Fred speeds downward makes it hard to hear the beautiful crash of water you associate so much with this place. But as the trees thin, you see it – the gorgeous waterfall and crisp blue-green pools that catch its spray. 

Fred slows down his flying, weaving expertly through the forest until you come to rest upon the boulders that face the torrent of water. 

“This is it. This is where us Beauxbaton girls came for peaceful retreats. Made quite a few friends among the wood nymphs, too.” 

Fred turns to you, confused. “You find this relaxing?” He screams over the loud crash of water. 


“Trust me?” You ask as you take his hand and lead him down the winding paths deeper into the forest. He grips your fingers tightly as his boots dig into the mud you seem to navigate with an elegance that reminds him so much of how you floated into the Great Hall of Hogwarts all those years ago. 

When you finally let go of his hand, you are in a clearing covered in a canopy of trees. Steam fills the space as three pools, one flowing into the next, radiate heat outward. The water is an inviting shade of aquamarine and the stones underneath seem to glisten silver, the cleavage of them lined with some rare elements that Fred can only assume are as precious as the creature standing beside him. Your face glows with memory, like a child on Christmas filled with the possibilities of unopened boxes and mysterious smells from the oven. 

“I told you it’s beautiful,” you say, turning to the man you love, the man you are so excited to show the parts of your life he had been absent from so that he can become one with all of you. What you see when you find him again makes it clear he wants the same thing.

Fred is bent on one knee, his soft woolen jacket open revealing a pocket you hadn’t seen, and in his hands sits a beautiful ring box holding a delicate band and a single, shining diamond, even brighter for the way the blues of your hot springs cast off of it. 

“You did,” he says, his voice deeper than you are used to, like a lump somehow is already forming in his throat. But that isn’t too hard to believe, as tears are prickling at your eyes, ready to roll over before he has even spoken. The sight of this man, his handsome chiseled face and his soft, kind eyes looking so weak, so wrought with emotion, and all for you, is enough to send you into hysterics. He is perfect – your silly, brave, industrious, kind, honest, perfect Fred. And here he is, telling you without words that you are perfect, too. 

“Do you remember my first words to you?” He asks with a lift of the left corner of his lips.

“Marry me,” you whisper with a hiccup, now full-blown crying at the memory of how his lips somehow felt so right against your fingers, even though you didn’t even know his name.

“Marry me,” he breathes more to himself than you, chuckling at his own teenage silliness. He shakes his head and looks at the ground. But upon catching the glow of the ring, his eyes return to your face. “I’d like an answer now,” he says. His hand somehow instinctively finds your fingertips, the source of all the kinetic energy between you, the spark that opened the doors to a lifetime of happiness. 

You try your best to find your breath between your tears. “Yes,” you say, though you are unsure if you actually made any sound given the heaving of your chest. “Yes.” 

Fred hops into the air, his lips finding yours and his arms engulfing your body in his embrace. He showers you with kisses, your tears mingling together, no different from the moisture of the steam coating your skin.

“I love you so much,” you manage to say as you smile against his mouth.

“I love you—fuck,” Fred pulls himself from you and drops to the ground. The ring box is discarded several feet from you, dropped quickly in Fred’s desire to shower you in affection. The ring still sits inside, pretty and intact but dusted with dirt. Fred frantically wipes the ring against his coat before grabbing at your hand.

“May I?” He asks. You nod enthusiastically, enjoying the feel of the cold metal running over your knuckles, chilling your heated skin.

As Fred stares in awe at the new jewel that gilds your hand, you slowly back away from him. With a careful flick of the buttons, you drop your coat to the ground. Fred’s gaze moves to your neck where your hands now continue their slow turn and flick, opening the buttons of your blouse in the most enticing strip tease he could imagine. 

“What are you doing, woman?” He whispers, though he takes no steps to approach your still retreating form, now just inches from the edge of the water. 

“What do you think I was planning for us to do here?” You ask him. Your hands slide down the curves of your now-exposed sides, bunching the fabric of your hips. “It’s a hot spring.” You wiggle your hips just a little as you push the fabric over your rump and down your thighs. “What do you think we Beauxbaton girls did here? Painted our nails and doodled in our notebooks?” As you lift your ankles, leaving yourself completely bare – bare expect for the gorgeous ring your fiancé just placed upon your hand – you stride with slow, confident steps towards him, a swan returned to her pond, a siren seducing her sailor. 

“Do not make me picture you and a handful of beautiful French girls bathing here naked together. My heart can’t take it.” 

You now find yourself inches away from your fiancé, his eyes trying their hardest to stay trained on your face but failing miserably with each breath that lifts your chest just a little closer to his face. 

“Your heart can take plenty of things,” you moan into his ear, your entire body just an inch from touching his. “It’s taken me, hasn’t it?” 

And just as his hands comes to ghost the curve of your lower back, you flee him, jumping into the largest of the pools with a satisfying splash. 

As you come up and turn to him with your hair slicked back out of your face, Fred is already half naked, his clothing thrown haphazardly across the clearing and his belt buckle proving much more difficult than he ever imagined it would. 

“Damn it, Princess,” he says with a huff and he yanks at his jeans, “You have no idea what’s in store for you.” He flicks his eyes to you as he pulls his t-shirt over his head, revealing the beautiful expanse of strong stomach and chest that somehow never fail to take your breath away. His eyes glint with a hint of evil and a heap of lust and you are almost ashamed at how quickly your body responds to it, his gaze heating your whole self even more than the springs already have. 

“I think I know,” you say as Fred lowers himself into the waters. 

He paddles over to you and wraps your nude form in his arms. His lips find your hands and delicately play with them, his fingers running over the smooth metal as his lips move up to your wrist. You drop your head back against the smooth rocks and allow this man you love, this man who has enchanted you for the first connection, to love your body in turn. 

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