#i was trying to whisper to my mum that george was in front of us and then i saw alex moving down our row and just lost a little functioning

[snap-my-kneecaps]

i still can’t believe that i got last second tickets for the final newsies show like ten minutes before the show started and ended up sat next to Alex James-Hatton

like wtf

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND?!

Pairings: George Weasley x Fem!reader Summary: you and George found Ron jerking off to you Warning: mention of jerking off. Note: requested by @lillisummers BASED IN OOTP

you sat between Fred and George at dinner as George poured you a cup of juice, he sat down and kissed your head before taking a sip of your cup

"ay, use your own cup" you whispered, trying to be quiet as the room fell silent

he smiled and looked forward, at harry, who's now holding the daily prophet

"he's been attacking dumbledore as well...fudge is using all his power, including his influence of the daily prophet to..smear anyone who claims the dark lord has returned" Sirius stated

your hold George's hand at the mention of the dark lord by instinct.

"why?" Harry asked

"the minister thinks dumbledore is after his job" Remus interjected, sitting in front of Harry

"but that's insane, no one in their right mind could believe that would of..." Harry began, being cut off by Remus

"exactly the point! fudge isn't in his right mind, it's been twisted and warped by fear" Remus nodded "now fear makes people do terrible things, Harry, the last time voldemort gained power, he almost destroyed everything we hold most dear..."

you looked over and George smiled sadly as he gave your hand a squeeze

you leaned into his side and closed your eyes, feeling his warmth

"now he's returned, and i'm afraid the minister will do almost everything to avoid facing that terrifying truth" Remus trailed off

"we think voldemort wants to build up his army again..fourteen years ago we had huge numbers at his command, and not just witches and wizards, but all manner of dark creatures. he's been recruiting heavily and we've been attempting to do the same, but gathering followers isn't the only thing interested in" Sirius explains

mad eye clears his throat, trying to make sirius stop talking, to which he doesn't

"we believe.." Sirius starts again, making Molly stop cutting the vegetables at the end of the table. you opened your eyes, feeling goosebumps form on your arms, having a chilling feeling

"voldemort may be after something" the long haired man said

"sirius" mad eye warned

"something he didn't have last time"

"you mean..like a weapon?" Harry questioned

Sirius opens his mouth to say more but Molly buts it

"no. that's enough, he's just a boy!" she exclaims, coming over to harry, taking the prophet away "say more and you might as well induct him into the oder straight away"

"good! i want to join. if voldemort's raising an army, then i want to fight!" Harry fought, making sirius clap his hands and lean back in his chair

"no, no, you've encouraged this sirius! it's not safe for him!" Molly scolded the Black

"is it just me or are you hungry too?" George whispered, taking your attention away from the adults

you looked at him and smiled "starving, what about you Fred? you hungry?" you looked over at Fred, who snickered

"why did mum bring us down for dinner when it wasn't even ready?" he wondered

"i was thinking the exact same thing" George huffed with a smile, throwing his arm over your shoulder before starting a conversation.

you looked at Fred but noticed Ron, sitting on the other side of him, staring at you.

though he didn't seem to notice you saw, as his eyes were focused a little lower. looking down at your chest.

you wouldn't say you were wearing a revealing shirt, but it did show a bit of cleavage

you raised your eyebrows at the boy as he finally looked up at your face

his eyes went wide as he realised you caught him and looked away, his face beet red

you shook your head and lifted the shirt up ever so slightly

Molly got fed up with Sirius and walked back to the food, ignoring him before angrily chopping the vegetables

"what did the broccoli do to her?" Fred joked quietly, making you and George snicker

George picked up your cup of juice and drank from it again making you sigh before slapping his chest

"drink from your own cup!" you sighed before leaning over taking his cup that has been left untouched but filled with juice and drinking from his cup

"oi don't drink from my cup" he huffed, trying to take it off you

"no, shove off, that's yours now, this is mine" you smile, moving the cup away, leaning away from him

"Fred get the juice off her" George pled, making Fred shake his head

"i'm not getting involved in your juice stealing" Fred leaned away

"ha!" you stuck your tongue out at George

"oh yeah? how about i pour the juice on you" he raised his eyebrow

you gasped and glared at him "you wouldn't!"

he smirked "i would"

he teasingly tipped his cup slightly, making you squeal

"shove off!" you giggled, leaning away, now leaning on Fred

"Fred help me!" you begged

"i'm not getting involved, but please don't get the juice on me" he chuckled

George leaned forward and teasingly tipped it again, messing with you "George, i swear to Merlin if you pour that on me" you squirmed as he wrapped his arm around you

"oh? what would you do?" he grinned

"i'll leave you" you stared at him warningy, but he didn't buy it one bit

"no you won't, you love me" he smiled innocently

"i do, but not right now" you whined

George gasped, faking hurt "wow"

"George, don't pour juice on her" Ron interjected

George leaned away from you and looked at his younger brother, sitting 3 down from him "aw, how sweet Y/n. ronikins here is looking out for you, he's on your side" George pouted at his brother, teasing him

you looked back at ron and found him staring at you again, making you feel weird, his eyes said something that made you feel a little..gross

--

you walked up the stairs hand in hand with George to talk to Harry, who had left the dinner table with Hermione ten minutes ago, probably to find Ron, who had left the dinner table well before them

"i think we just need to warn him s'all" George shrugged

"George, i think he already knows how dangerous it is, he's faced him before" you sighed, feeling sorry for Harry

"i know but he's still a kid" George huffed, walking to the first door to the left, Harry and Ron's room

"so are we" you tilted your head, not understanding his point

"but we're older, wiser" he smiled down at you

"oh you are anything but wise, George" you rolled your eyes, amused

"you're the best girlfriend, aren't you?"

"i like to think so" you grinned happily

George shook his head and opened the door, still holding your hand.

you looked up as George go ready to greet Harry- although, Harry wasn't there at all.

instead of the Potter boy, the youngest Weasley boy was sat on his bed, pants down to the knees as he pumped his cock at a fast pace, moaning as his head was thrown back in pleasure, clearly not noticing your presence

you quickly let go of George's hand and covered your eyes, turning around, trying to leave the room

"o-oh Y/n.." you heard Ron grunt, the sound of squelching getting louder

"what the hell?" George cursed in shock as you walked in to a wall on your way out, trying to get the image of a half naked Ron, jerking off

you heard Ron scream and shuffling of the covers

"what the hell! get out!?" ron yelled

you groaned in pain from headbutting a wall and turned around, reaching one hand for George, eyes still closed

George saw you reaching out and grabbed onto your waist, pulling you close to him

"were you seriously just jerking off to Y/n?" George asked, just as shocked as you were

"n-no" Ron stuttered

you peeked, seeing Ron fully covered by his blankets, his face as red as his hair

"We clearly heard you say her name" George frowned

"Whatever! Just leave!" Ron begged.

"You were wanking off to my girlfriend! That's your future sister in law dude! That's disgusting!" George exclaimed. Still in horror

Ron stayed silent. Feeling beyond embarrassed

"I mean come on. That's my girlfriend!" George scoffed

"I'm sorry!" Ron cried out.

You stood there in George's arms, Feeling a little uncomfortable

"Don't say sorry to me. Say sorry to her!"

Ron looked down. Not wanting to make eye contact with you

"I'm sorry" he sighed

"Now you're going to treat her with respect and if I catch you even looking at her the wrong way. Out come the spiders. Everywhere. I'm talking in your draws. Bed. Trunk, and on your face" George said sternly, making Ron nod vigorously. Still looking down

"Good" George scoffed before letting you go and taking you hand

"C'mon babe" he walks towards the door. Leading you out of the room

Once he shut the door. You looked at him and raised an eyebrow

"Future sister in law? What are you insinuating there, Weasley?" You smirked

"I think you know" he grins

"Oh yeah? It sounds like someone is planning on marrying me" you hugged him

"Oh shush. Now. Do you wanna go bleach your eyes?" He asked

"Oh yes please" you nodded happily

‐‐---------------------------------------------------------

[postsbycass]

Of Beasts and Bloodlines, Chapter 1

[ blurb ]

At Hogwarts, dark forces threaten student safety and the beloved Quidditch season. But does Oliver Wood know more than he is letting on?

Or…

Oliver Wood and Percy Weasley are forced to work together… but don’t worry, it’s fine, nothing will go horribly wrong. Probably.

AND FINALLY…START OF CHAPTER:

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Sunday, the 1st of September, 1991.

10:57.

Percy knows—he’s been checking the time every five seconds since he arrived at Platform 9¾

His mother was in the middle of her third round of goodbye hugs, and Percy endured it with minimal squirming. Well, sort of.

“You’ll do brilliantly, my darling,” Molly Weasley whispered fiercely, brushing imaginary dust off his robes.

“Yes, thank you, Mum,” Percy replied. “I have my list. Everything’s in order.”

Behind them, Fred and George were trying to attach a dungbomb to Ron’s trunk while Arthur distractedly checked his muggle watch. He’d been obsessed with that thing lately…

“Right, well, I need to be on board early,” Percy said, stepping back from the embrace. “Prefects are expected to—”

“Yes, yes,” Molly interrupted, tearful. “Go on then, darling. Make us proud.”

Mrs. Weasley kissed both his cheeks, twice, and Percy made a face of discomfort. She was halfway through waving off his siblings when he turned to Ginny, who was hovering nearby, red-eyed and fiercely trying not to sniffle.

“Make sure you keep your room tidy,” he said, adjusting his glasses in that precise way that meant he was nervous. “And help Mum out when you can. I won’t be there to remind you.”

Ginny huffed, scrubbing at her nose. “I know, Percy.”

“I mean it,” he added. “No leaving your socks under the bed. No scribbling on the walls with enchantments—”

“That was Fred and George!”

Percy raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Regardless. Be good. You’re the only one left at home now.”

Ginny crossed her arms, lower lip trembling but held high. “I’m always good.”

“Right,” Percy said, softening just a little. “Well. Stay that way.”

There was a pause—awkward, uncertain—where it looked like he might hug her. But instead, he gave her a brisk nod and turned toward the train, adjusting his badge for what was the fourth time that morning.

10:59.

Inside the train, chaos reigned as usual. Students weaving through narrow corridors, trunks being hauled and dropped, owls shrieking from cages…but Percy only saw checkboxes. He mentally ticked off each item on his itinerary: arrive early, attend Prefect meeting, patrol the corridors, settle into routine.

The designated Prefect compartment was near the front of the train, away from the excited first years. Honestly? It felt like entering a different realm—one where everything was orderly, predictable, and most importantly, serious. The moment he stepped inside, he straightened his spine a little more, adjusted his badge a fifth time (if you can believe it), and took in the other students with the cool scrutiny of someone determined to be seen as an equal.

Penelope Clearwater was already there, seated near the window with her notes lined up in perfect little rows. Her penmanship was maddeningly neat. Ever letter is precisely angled, as though the parchment itself had demanded perfection. Percy, who prided himself on his own tidy scrawl, had the sudden urge to rewrite his entire planner. Dammit.

She glanced up. “Weasley.”

“Clearwater,” he replied smoothly, settling onto the seat opposite her.

The other Prefects trickled in, a mix of returning prefects and the new, 5th year ones, such as Percy himself. There was an informal sense of hierarchy already in place: the older students sat more comfortably, joking with each other, while the younger ones kept their backs straight and their voices quiet..

One Head Boy, a tall Hufflepuff named Davinder Patel, called the meeting to order. Percy immediately sat up even straighter, quill poised, planner open. This was it. The beginning of his prefectship.

“Alright, lads and lasses,” Davinder began, tone easy but commanding. “We’ve got a lot to cover before we get to the school, so let’s keep this moving. Patrol rotations, first-year guidance teams, curfew enforcement—you know the drill.”

Percy’s hand flew across his parchment, writing quite literally every word. His brow furrowed when someone next to him snorted at a joke Davinder made about how Slytherin Prefects always vanish right before trouble starts. Not everything had to be funny. This was important.

Penelope leaned in slightly at one point to clarify something under her breath—“It’s every third Thursday, not second”—and Percy felt a strange twinge of admiration and competition at once. She was sharp. Efficient. Possibly sharper than him.

He hated how much that thrilled him.

There was a brief discussion on disciplinary protocol, during which one of the sixth-year Gryffindor Prefects asked, “Do we have to write everything down, or is that just a Percy thing?”

Several students laughed.

Percy went bright red. “Keeping records is standard practice,” he muttered, not looking up.

Penelope cut in, of course. “Actually, it’s encouraged. The Head Girl said last year that thorough documentation helped when reporting repeat offenses.”

Percy glanced at her. She didn’t even look up from her planner. But he made a note to thank her later. Or maybe never. He hadn’t decided yet.

The meeting wrapped up after thirty minutes, with folders distributed, patrol partners assigned, and everything reviewed. Percy left the compartment feeling…different. Not relaxed, exactly. But he didn’t feel like an imposter. Not entirely. He had a role to play, a place where order mattered. And he planned to be excellent at it.

Even if it meant rewriting his to-do list three times before the train arrived.

11:30

After the meeting, Percy returned to a mostly empty compartment three cars down and settled in. He was only halfway through his notes on Prefect duties when the door slid open again and someone slouched in.

Oliver Wood. Percy’s Quidditch-obsessed dorm mate, for the last 4 years.

His hair looked like he’d run through a wind tunnel, and his uniform was only technically tidy—just enough to pass inspection, but clearly thrown on in a hurry. His eyes had that bleary, battle-worn look of someone who’d slept too little and thought too much.

“Morning,” Oliver grunted, tossing his bag onto the seat across from Percy and collapsing after it like a man who’d run from Hogsmeade to London.

Percy didn’t look up. “It’s nearly noon.”

Oliver waved that off. “Details.”

Fair enough. Percy carefully finished underlining something on his parchment, then frowned, realizing something.

“…Why are you even in here? This is the Prefect compartment.”

Oliver groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah. I know. I’ll leave in a bit. I just…I needed a place to breathe.”

Percy blinked. “Breathe?”

“It’s chaos out there,” Oliver muttered. “I can’t deal with it right now.”

He leaned back, eyes shut, jaw tight.

“Didn’t think the bloody drama would start before we even reached the school.”

Percy opened his mouth, probably to say something about rules or boundaries, but paused. Oliver looked… genuinely tired. Less of the usual firebrand and more like someone already bracing for impact.

“…You’re not supposed to be here,” Percy said, but with less bite than before.

“I know,” Oliver replied, not moving. “Just… give me ten minutes before I have to go back to pretending I have any control over that team.”

Percy sighed, eyes flicking down to his parchment. “Fine. But if Penelope comes back and sees you in here, I’m not defending you.”

Silence settled for a few moments, save for the scribble of Percy’s quill and Oliver’s muffled rummaging through his bag.

Then:

“They’ve gutted us,” Oliver said suddenly.

Percy blinked. “I beg your pardon? Gutted ‘us’ how, exactly?”

“Quidditch,” Oliver replied, rubbing his temples like a man plagued by strategy and ghosts. “Charlie’s gone. Charlie. That’s a massive hole in the lineup. We’ve no Seeker. Bell says Spinnet might not come back this year. Johnson wants to try Beater—she’s good, but we need her as Chaser, and we’ve already got the twins as Beaters. And I’ve just found out something. Something horrid. Bell’s crushing on a Slytherin.”

He said it like she’d announced her plans to join a magical terrorist organization.

Percy looked up, mildly alarmed. “Is that… dangerous, somehow?”

“No. Worse. It’s Quidditch incest.”

There was a beat of silence.

Percy blinked again. “I… don’t follow.”

Oliver flailed an arm. “She’s fraternizing with the enemy! It’s unnatural! Like—like a Bludger and a Snitch having tea together. You don’t like someone who’s actively trying to concuss you!”

From somewhere down the corridor, a voice shouted, “It’s not incest, Oliver!”

“Oh well that makes it okay then, I suppose???” Oliver yelled back. “Cancel the whole season! Bring cupcakes to the matches! Let’s all snog midair and call it a draw!”

He collapsed backward into his seat, looking personally betrayed by romance itself.

Percy slowly set down his quill and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You do realize,” he said carefully, “that liking a member of the opposing team isn’t a war crime.”

“Tell that to the scoreboard,” Oliver muttered. “Slytherin’s stacked this year. Flint’s still Captain, which means he’s still alive somehow, despite the rumors.”

Percy wasn’t going to ask about the rumors. That was a detour he didn’t have time for.

“Marcus Flint is an idiot,” Percy replied primly. “But he plays dirty. That makes him dangerous.”

Oliver pointed at Percy. “See? Exactly. Katie gets distracted by his teammate’s stupid cheekbones, and next thing you know, she’s missing passes and crying on the pitch.”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Do you actually think that will happen, or are you just catastrophizing to avoid addressing your tactical gaps?”

Oliver stared at him.

“Who hurt you,” he whispered.

Percy flushed. “I’m just saying! Emotional distractions are manageable if you prioritize discipline. Personally, I avoid them altogether.”

Oliver pulled a face. “You say that like you’re proud.”

“I am,” Percy snapped. “It’s my first year as Prefect. I have a reputation to maintain. If you think I’m going to risk—”

“Oh Merlin, you are proud.”

They glared at each other across the compartment.

“Look,” Oliver sighed. “You do your little patrols and make your tidy little lists. That’s your Quidditch. This? This chaos? This is mine.”

He tapped his temple.

Percy, against his better judgment, cracked a smile.

“And here I thought your chaos lived entirely in your vocal cords, with how much you shout.”

Oliver grinned. “Only when Flint’s involved.”

They lapsed into silence again, this time companionable. Outside, the scenery blurred as the train rolled on. Percy resumed his notes with slightly less urgency. Oliver bounced his leg restlessly, as if powered by some sort of magical stimulant.

A knock on the compartment door made them both glance up. Penelope Clearwater slid it open, composed as ever.

“We’re arriving in ten,” she told Percy.

“Right.” Percy stood, smoothing his robes. “Best to start early.”

As he moved past Oliver, the other boy leaned back lazily.

“Try not to enforce any international treaties while you’re at it, Percy.”

7:30

The Great Hall glowed with warm candlelight, its enchanted ceiling mirroring the dusky September sky. The first years shuffled in behind the prefects, wide-eyed and whispering, the newness of it all clinging to them like static. Percy Weasley led the Gryffindors with the brisk, rigid efficiency of someone carrying several invisible clipboards. His badge gleamed just enough to make him sit straighter.

Behind him, the Gryffindor table buzzed—bets on House placements, heated recounts of train compartment drama, Fred and George laughing too hard to be innocent.

That was never a good sign.

Percy slid into a seat midway down the table, eyes sweeping the Hall with quiet precision. He was watching. That was his job now. He looked like a traumatized owl, but hey…that was kind of the point, right?

“Not bad crop this year,” Oliver murmured beside him, making Percy twitch. “Couple of them looked like they could handle a broom.”

“They’re eleven.”

“Exactly. Start ‘em young.”

Percy inhaled through his nose

As the Sorting began, Oliver leaned forward each time a name was called, whispering evaluations like a coach scouting talent at a toddler tryout.

“Too nervous. Nope. That one’s got a good center of gravity. Definitely fast.”

“You can’t tell that from their name.”

“Wrong. You just don’t have The Eye.”

“You do realize this is an ancient House tradition, not a recruitment drive.”

“Why can’t it be both?” Oliver grinned like this was the cleverest thing he’d said all year. “Ooh—Higgins! Percy, did you hear Higgins? He said he likes flying. That’s a good sign. Make a note.”

“I’m not writing that down.”

“You’re thinking about it, though.”

Unfortunately, he was.

The Sorting ended, the Hat’s last echoes fading into the high-arched ceiling. The first years found their places—some glowing with pride, others blinking in numb horror. A tearful, pureblood Hufflepuff was already regretting everything.

Percy scanned the Gryffindor additions, instinctively noting who might need help, and who might end up lighting a toilet on fire. And then, of course, there was the issue of Harry Potter.

Something about him made Percy uneasy—and he had a feeling this year was going to be long.

Very long.

The feast was already winding down. Pudding plates scraped clean, chatter rising like steam. Oliver Wood, meanwhile, was visibly vibrating beside Percy—restraining himself from leaping onto the table and announcing Quidditch tryouts to a room of half-conscious first years. No, genuinely. He’s legitimately trembling.

Percy sliced an apple and muttered, “If you say the word ‘practice’ before the first-years find their beds, I’m leaving.”

“I’m not,” Oliver lied.

His eyes flicked across the Hall—and locked.

“Flint’s looking over here again.”

Across the room, Marcus Flint leaned lazily against the Slytherin table, laughing at something Cassius Warrington had said. Broad-shouldered, square-jawed, and constantly five seconds from a brawl, he looked like he’d been carved out of granite and then left in the sun too long. His smile, when it landed on Oliver, was smug and just a touch too slow. He raised a hand in a mocking little wave.

Oliver scowled. “Gross. Smarmy git.”

“Focus,” Percy warned.

And then, as if summoned by chaos itself, Katie Bell leaned over the table. “Hey, Oliver? Is it true Montague made the Slytherin team this year?”

Oliver paused mid-glare. “Yeah. Why?”

Katie tilted her head, trying to be casual. “No reason. He just… looks taller.”

Percy choked on a bit of apple.

Oliver turned to her, aghast. “Taller?! What does that even—Katie, you can’t be serious—”

“I didn’t say I like him!” Katie insisted, her face pinking. “Just that he’s… tall now. That’s all.”

Before Oliver could spiral further, Marcus Flint chose that exact moment to stroll over, looking like he owned the floorboards.

“Well, well,” he drawled. “Evening, Wood. Congratulations on having the most open-minded Chaser lineup this year.”

He nodded to Katie with exaggerated charm. “Montague says hi, by the way.”

Katie nearly slid under the table. Oliver stood so fast his goblet went flying. “You! You stay the hell away from my Chasers, Flint!”

Flint gave a slow smirk. “Bit possessive, aren’t you? Or are you just jealous she noticed someone with actual talent—”

That was when Angelina Johnson calmly set down her spoon with a little clink.

She folded her arms. “Alright. That’s it.”

Oliver froze. As did Katie…

“Flint,” Angelina said, voice calm but cutting.

Marcus leaned in, cocky as ever. “Yeah, Johnson?”

She gestured to her dessert. “Your face is making my treacle tart taste worse.”

A hush swept down the table.

Flint’s eyebrows lifted. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she said, gesturing to her plate. “You show up, start strutting like a preening Hippogriff, and now all I taste is sweat and ego. Unkindly shove off.”

A snort of laughter came from somewhere near George. Someone at the Ravenclaw table winced sympathetically.

Flint’s smirk twitched. “Y’know what? Fine. Hope you lot enjoy losing this year. Especially with Wood playing captain and emotional support owl.”

He stormed off. Oliver opened his mouth to yell something—

Angelina didn’t even look up. “And you. Don’t.”

Oliver closed his mouth.

“If I hear one more word about Montague, Katie’s tragic preferences, or how Slytherins don’t blink like normal people, I will personally end this meal with violence.”

Oliver held up both hands in surrender.

Angelina picked up her fork again, peaceful as could be. “Thank you. Now let’s all try acting like normal people for five minutes so Dumbledore can give his speech without someone throwing a fork.”

Percy let out a breath.

Katie whispered, “All I said was that he’s tall.”

Angelina, still not looking up: “Katie, I swear to Merlin—”

The Great Hall fell into silence.

No one had seen Dumbledore enter. But suddenly, there he stood at the head table. Tall, robed, and far wearier than Percy remembered. His eyes swept across the Hall as he raised his hands for quiet.

“Welcome,” he said, his voice as calm as ever, but distant, too. “To another year at Hogwarts.”

The silence hung close.

“As always, we gather in the spirit of discovery, friendship, and growth. But this year…” he paused, and for a moment, Percy felt the air itself hold its breath, “this year may prove… complicated.”

Chairs creaked. A nervous laugh or two echoed.

“There are things that go unnoticed until they move. Shadows with no shape. Doors that do not open. Whispers you will not trace to any mouth. Should you encounter something unusual—do not dismiss it. Come forward. Tell someone.”

Oliver shifted beside Percy, brow furrowed.

“You may also find,” Dumbledore went on, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “that allies arise in unexpected places. Let that not be a cause for fear. Hogwarts stands when we stand together.”

He raised his goblet.

“To unity. To vigilance. And to another year of magic.”

The hall clapped, quiet and uneven. Percy looked across to Penelope, who met his eyes with a frown.

Something was off.

He looked back toward the staff table—noticed McGonagall whispering something to Flitwick, Snape’s arms crossed tighter than usual, even Hagrid fidgeting. Dumbledore, now seated, wasn’t touching his food. He was staring into nothing with a distant, unreadable look.

It wasn’t just nerves. It wasn’t just a new term.

Something was wrong. Percy didn’t know what, but the air had changed.

Even the ceiling—normally enchanted to look like the sky—looked different now. Too still. Too dark. Like it was watching back, almost.

Beside him, Oliver swallowed, then leaned in and whispered, “This is how it always starts in those horror novels my cousin Victoria reads. Next thing you know, someone’s broom tries to kill them.”

Percy stared at him. “…What?”

Oliver shrugged, already grabbing a final roll off the platter. “I’m just saying. If my broom starts growling or developing opinions, I’m not flying it.”

He took a bite, thoughtful. “Though, I dunno. If it helps block Slytherin goals, might be worth the risk.”

Percy sighed through his nose. “You’re going to die first.”

“Yeah, but it’d be in a wicked way. Probably during a dive.”

[word count: 3,135]

authors note -> I’M SORRY. I’VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR LIKE, EVER. I KNOW I SAID I’D PUT THIS OUT IN JANUARY (twas all a lie) BUT IT IS HERE NOW !!! ENJOY. ALSO TAGGING MY BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL SCRUMPTIOUS DELIGHTFUL BESTIE BOO WHO HAS ENDURED MY RANTING AND RAVING THESE PAST MONTHS. @amethystandemma

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Fifteen

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Honestly loved writing this one! Lots of tension, so many emotions! First scene has a few flashbacks in italics so watch out! Hope you enjoy x

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

A list of things I remember about last night:

George buying a fan a bottle of champagne.. then four more for the table. He’d been six shots in and feeling more than a little generous.

Matty and I out in the smoking area, whispering back and forth, then giggling as we tried to knick a lighter from the back pocket of this big burly bloke trying to chat up the blonde beside us.

Hann leaving early but with smiles for all of us and the promise of seeing Adi and I again soon! 

Finn’s text saying that Teddy was fast asleep and all fine- an utter reassurance not just to me, but seemingly Matty too, who’d cooed over the picture I’d received alongside it.

Matty dragging me out onto the dance floor when a certain song had come on, his hands on my waist, mine tangled in his hair, the lights bright, the music loud..

The last round of shots, or one of?

Ross standing on a table??

Adi then slipping out with Ross- note to self, text Adi!!

And then…

Then the cab ride home!

But, I supposed it wasn’t headed home, or at least not mine, because now that I thought about it, dizzying images of awkward fumbles in the dark, searching for a light switch, hastily turned into a terrible attempt at trying to scrounge up some food, only a little less drunk than what we’d been when we’d left the club. But then even those soon spun and fluttered away, moving onto heavy hands and heated looks…

I froze, taking in the unfamiliar feel of the bed sheets beneath me and the weight of an arm thrown around my waist. How suddenly the skin beneath it felt hot at the realisation of its touch. I allowed my wide eyes to wander, holding my breath, the remnants of sleep quickly slipping from me as worry overwhelmed it. I saw the cemented walls, the soft hues, the sunlight which flickered in through the far window.

I didn’t know this place, but at the same time I felt as though I did.

I let my eyes fall close again, only briefly, when I finally allowed myself a moment to breathe, inhaling slowly so as to not stir the man settled behind me. 

Fuck.

And that was all that would come to mind because I was panicking now. It felt like I had been dropped into a black hole head first, or some other kind of alternate reality- or maybe even five years in the past! Because this couldn’t be happening. It had to be a dream.

But my thoughts kept on betraying me.

“Don’t run from me.” He whispered in the dim light of his kitchen as his fingers skittered over the length of my jaw, gently coercing me into meeting his gaze once again.

We’d been making toast, he’d only had a spoonful or so of butter left but had latched onto the idea the second we’d walked through the front door, the cab having not long left us. He’d pulled jams and spreads from high cupboards to goad me into it too, and I could do nothing but stand there and watch on, perfectly content and with a permanent smile etched into my face.

He’d patted the countertop beside him not long after finding a new loaf of white bread in the tin, gesturing me on round to sit on its top whilst he got to work.

“What do you fancy?” He’d asked me, plopping a slice into his sleek toaster, one which looked a decade newer than my own.

“You decide.” I had gambled, happy to just watch him laugh whilst he worked, licking his thumb free of chocolate and swearing under his breath when the butter finally ran dry.

On the plate I’d then been handed, sat four sections, each one a different spread to the other. He’d grinned up at me when he had passed it over and had watched on as I’d chuckled and picked a slice up.

“Blueberry, fine choice.” He’d hummed, his drawl deep and tinged with a faint hint of amusement. I’d shrugged, sheepish for some reason, and licked at the corner of my mouth to swipe the crumbs away from the bite I had just taken.

“Didn’t even know it existed.” I’d told him truthfully, taking another bite before reaching out to have him try. 

His movements had been careful at that, as though he’d been surprised by the offer, but then he’d let me feed him and had grinned around the sweet taste.

“Good?” I’d asked him, already moving to withdraw my hand before his fingers caught around my wrist. I'd blinked, confused and slightly startled by the suddenness of the gesture, but his hold hadn’t been harsh or hurtful, merely just that, a hold.

He had nodded at me in answer to my question, but then he’d taken the bitten slice from my grasp to place down somewhere on the counter.

“Matty?” I'd heard myself say.

He’d merely stepped on closer, “You have something.” His voice gruff.

He had lifted his free hand up towards my face, the other still caught on mine, and let the pad of his thumb brush away the tiniest piece of jam my cheek had caught. I’d felt my breath catch at the motion, somewhere in the very back of my throat, and then swallowed thickly at the sight of him placing the same finger into his mouth, sucking it clean.

I’d looked away, feeling the fierce rush of alcohol and embarrassment heat my face.

“Don’t run from me.”

His fingers still touched me now, even as he slept on, completely oblivious to the chaos that was my mind, the world that had continued on around us.

What would they say? What would they think?

Slowly, I forced myself to start moving, unable to continue lying in a bed that wasn’t my own. I hated myself a little for the fact that it was his, something deep inside of me knowing that this would’ve been so much easier had it simply been a stranger.

I lifted his hand from around my waist first, ever so careful not to have him stir, then silently slipped from between the sheets, my legs sliding out first before I willed my torso to follow. 

I picked up the first thing I saw from off of the floor, the white shirt he’d been wearing the night before, and pulled it on over my shoulders. My eyes skittered about the rest of the space, taking in everything that made up Matty’s room whilst simultaneously trying to find the dress I’d arrived in the night before. 

“I don’t think anyone has ever made me feel like you do.” He murmured into the space between us, my legs pressed against the counter top and dangling either side of his hips, his fingers grasped my chin, mine cuffed somewhere around his wrist. 

“It’s fucking maddening.” He continued on in the hushed tone he'd adopted, though no one was around to hear him had he spoken any louder, “I keep pulling away when I feel I get too close, scared you might push me away completely. ‘Cause what would I do then? Where would that leave me?”

I could feel the blood rushing in my ears and the way that my hands would surely shake if they weren’t already clinging to him. “I don’t understand, Matty.”

He smiled at me and I watched the way his eyes trailed their way across my face. I’d always liked his eyes. “I know. And that’s what kills me, ‘cause I don’t reckon you’ll ever think I’m enough.”

Enough. 

It threw me.

“You’re enough, what on Earth are you on about? Of course you’re enough.”

He shook his head at me ever so softly, with a sad smile this time around, whilst I dipped my own head to be nearer to his, wanting him to believe me. Willing him to.

“Matty-”

I was ripped away from the memory by the shuffling of sheets and stood in horror, barefoot in the middle of his bedroom, as the bed creaked with a slight movement. I held my breath, hands clutching at the buttons of the gaping shirt.

He sniffed unhappily, hands searching as he turned, but then was lured back into sleep.

I gave a stuttered exhale, heart pounding so hard it should’ve surely hurt, before continuing on with my search. I didn’t get too far though, not with my shaking hands and laboured breaths, the anxiety of it all overwhelming me now.

I could feel the pricking of tears that welled in my eyes, the stinging tingle of my nose as I fought not to cry. Why? The only question worth repeating, over and over and over. Why the fuck had I gone and fucked this all up?

“Mouse?”

My head shot up, startled by the suddenness of his voice and the realisation that I’d cowered into the wooden chair sat on the wall nearest to the window. Matty shifted in the sheets, sleep clouding his mind before I choked on a questionable sob and he was all but tumbling his way on over to me, catching on bed linens and fumbling across the floor.

“I need you to know, okay?” He whispered to me in the quiet of the kitchen, his wary face now cradled in the palms of my hands whilst his soft eyes stared back at me, mirroring an emotion I felt but couldn’t quite recall. “‘Cause, I don’t reckon I could say this whilst sober.”

“Know what, Matty?”

My fingers dug into the skin of my arms.

“Mouse, you hearin’ me?”

His voice sounded so different now, laced with a gruff edge I’d only ever heard during late night phone calls when he’d stayed too late at the studio and wanted company. There was an urgency to his tone now.

“Squeaks, just lemme know what I can do.” Matty rushed out, his face wrinkled with worry whilst his hands faltered, unsure whether or not to touch. “Please.”

Another sob ripped its way through me.

“I’m sorry.” I told him in earnest, crying hard enough now that I had to have been gasping to breathe, “I’m sorry, I, I just- I don’t know what to do now. I’m sorry, Matty. So sorry.”

He didn’t reply, didn’t say a word actually. Just moved to cradle me close, wrapping his arms around my shoulders as though that would hold me together, his body shielding my head from the rest of the world.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Matty murmured, so much like he had the night before but only sadder now. “Nothing at all.”

–

She was embarrassed. That much he knew.

Could feel the way she shied away from him now that she had calmed, still hidden away in his arms. He hated himself for it. He wanted to hate what had gone down last night too, but couldn’t bring himself to. What good would it do him now? Hate, always so stuck on it.

“Mouse.” He called out to her softly, after the quiet had been stretched and pulled far too thin. He swallowed thickly, “Let’s make some tea, yeah?”

He must've surprised her with his response because she glanced up at him almost unconsciously, but as soon as their eyes met hers were quick to dart away again. 

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, stare trained on the farthest wall. Matty licked at his bottom lip, still crouching in his position by the chair he had in the corner, moving his hands to now gently rest them by the knobs of her knees. 

He’d never been good at shit like this. Comfort.

He always got stuck in this place between panic and unease, forced to commit to empathising with another person and suspending his own agenda. It made him feel like he needed to make things better then and there, if only to save himself the strain of dealing with emotions.

That, and his mind was still so bleary due to the abrupt wake up, his heart still clenched to the point of exertion due to the spear of anxiety she’d propelled right through him.

“We can talk there, alright? Just, don’t leave just yet. Please?”

He felt bad for even asking her to stay but he knew her far too well, could see how desperate she was to run now, to escape her feelings and everything that had brought this moment to an abrupt head.

“Please?” Matty repeated even softer than he had before and was thankful when she finally nodded, a small thing he might not have seen had he blinked, but a nod nonetheless. “Okay.” He breathed out, something in him settling now that he knew she wouldn’t be making a run for the hills, “Okay, I’ll get a start on it then. You can have a look through them drawers over there, yeah? Find something, whatever, I don’t mind.”

He saw the bob of her throat as she swallowed and lingered on the motion until she nodded again.

By the time he’d made it out into the kitchen he was all but kicking himself, cursing as he tried to keep his temper in check. Of all the things he could have fucking done last night, why did he have to go and fuck the one good thing in his life up? She’d never fucking forgive him for this, even if she realised what had actually gone down and not what she’d just conjured up in that pretty little head of hers. 

Matty channelled his regret and sorrowful mood into hammering a pair of teabags into two empty mugs, figuring it to be the only way he could vent without banging everything about. He flicked on the kettle and moved to the fridge to pull the milk out, listening to it begin to boil instead of the stuttering of his pulse.

He only realised he’d been glaring a hole into the tiled wall when the thing finally whistled and the soft pad of shuffling feet echoed across the kitchen floor. Matty couldn’t help the way his head turned to find her.

“Hungry?” He asked, rubbing at his eyes, and although his voice was barely above a murmur it still felt too loud. She simply shook her head. Which was just as well really, he didn’t think he could even stomach this brew the way he was strung so tight. 

He dipped his chin in retort, ringing the two tea bags out before turning back to face her again. He paused when he found that her eyes were locked on the counter she’d been sat on the night before, Matty’s mind immediately flashed back to the skin of her thighs beneath his hands, the dip of her waist, the gentleness she’d held his face with, both the longing and sadness in her eyes when she told him he was enough.

He had wanted to scoff then, now even, but he’d never do that to her. If she thought he was worth even a fraction of the attention she gave him, then he’d take it. He was selfish in that regard, and couldn’t afford to waste anything she gifted him.

Christ, he sounded like a proper nut. How’d he let himself get so fucking gone on this girl?

Truthfully, he hadn’t even realised the depth of it until right then.

And now he had to be an actual grown-up and sort out the mess he’d made of things before he even got a chance to try to riffle through his messy array of feelings and their slow rising alarm bells. Another time- another day, even.

Matty cleared his throat as gently he took the seat beside her on the trio of barstools he had lined up on one side of his kitchen island, then faltered slightly, “Um, you good here or you wanna like, move to the settee or somethin’?”

She shook her head, hands careful as she moved to cradle the mug he’d just slid on over to her. He noticed how she moved her gaze from the counter down to the milky brew when he sat.

“Right,” He muttered, “alright.”

It was stupid, to feel so fucking incompetent then. In a moment he really should have been able to find the right words. Because Matty, somehow, had run out of things to say. And it was an accomplishment in itself, that he had to note, he wasn’t one to ever really be at a loss for words. But then again, Mouse was the biggest anomaly he’d faced so far.

He cleared his throat again and decided to just sip at his tea, noting that it was nicer than the usual scalding hot coffee he’d gulp down on his way out each morning.

Mouse went to open her mouth again, he saw the movement just out of the corner of his eye, and Matty already knew what she was going to say.

“Don’t,” He rushed out, though not unkindly. “No need for sorries, yeah?”

Her jaw snapped swiftly shut and she huddled in on herself slightly, staring back into the swirl of her brew. Matty immediately felt guilty.

He licked at his lower lip, feeling a cut there beneath his tongue just as a silence settled once more, one that was all the more suffocating.

He figured he’d best just get it over with, because at least then he’d be put out of the itching longing he had to end the quiet.

“I just,” He immediately paused, noting the way she had tilted her chin towards him at the sound of his voice, he coughed lightly then tried again. “Last night,” She tensed, and God, he had to steel himself further at that, “Nothing happened, alright? Well, yeah, I mean, fuck. Shit happened, but like we didn’t have sex or anything, I wouldn’t do that to you, Squeaks. You were drunk. It’d be a shitty move, yeah? So, just, if that’s what you’ve been worrying about, then..”

Matty glanced over at her wearily, internally wincing at the fucking stumble he’d made of things there, he found that her head was better turned towards him now, although her eyes still remained low. He watched her lips part, then quiver as though she was unsure of her response.

He let her have a minute.

“You were drunk, too.”

It didn’t sound like an accusation but felt a little like one. Still, he kept his head. “Not enough to not remember.”

The skin between her brows knitted, Matty could practically see the whirl of her many moving thoughts.

“I was naked.”

It took all his strength not to splutter at that, because he’d been trying his fucking hardest not to linger too much on that fact. Or how the sight of her in his clothes, even now, sent something stirring through his gut.

“Yeah,” Once again clearing his throat, Matty took another stilted breath, “Though to be fair, you’d had a shower then fell asleep like that after I said I’d be quick about mine.” 

His eyes flickered outwards, unable to look at her then, thinking back to the sight she’d made all sprawled out on his bed, face softened by sleep and the duvet pulled over most of her waist. 

“I didn’t see much,” He felt the need to add, because she was obviously a little torn up about it from the way she was wringing her hands, and knew for a fact that Mouse had a shit fucking perception of herself too. The way she breezily commented on her body and the scars that marred her face gave way to that fact, although most wouldn’t pick up on it, and he had realised quite early on that she didn’t either. Matty supposed he must have his rehab therapist to thank for that little enlightenment. 

He chuckled lightly when the image of her rippled to the forefront of his mind, clinging to the duvet with a strength no unconscious person should probably have. “You practically cocooned yourself in the covers anyway, threw a proper fit when I tried to steal some of it back.”

She smiled then, a tiny thing, mind, but a smile nonetheless. And that alone at least eased his mind a little bit.

“Thinking back, I probably should’ve just slept in the guest room but I was almost dead to the world. Sorry.” He was sincere in his apology, it’d been a misstep on his part, he just hadn’t been thinking. Hadn’t expected her to react so badly either.

“No need.” She said then, her voice a little more confident now as she mimicked his earlier words, “I shouldn’t, well, I shouldn’t have just assumed.”

Matty rolled his eyes and finally chanced a glance back over at her, so very pleased to see her looking back. Even then in that moment, after a right scare, fucking sobbing her heart out, and only just having woken up, she looked blinding.

He didn’t know if he had ever described a girl quite like that, or anyone really. But it felt too true to not shine a light to.

He internally chastised himself again- did ageing make you soppy or some shit? The fuck was he on.

“Yes, you should have. I’d’ve done the same, anyone would’ve.” He chuckled instead, loving the way her sheepish smile only curved up on the one side. “Least now we know you’d be fuckin’ mortified if I ever tried anything on.” He tried to joke, but it fell flat.

Squeaks swivelled her seat round to knock her knees against his own, then wrapped her cold feet around his ankle, “I was- I just haven’t, you know..” Matty arched a single brow, still rather pleased with their newfound position, his eyes lingering on the way her borrowed shirt slipped down to expose the majority of her collarbone. “.. slept with anyone in a while, and yeah, I don’t know, I wouldn’t want to go and ruin anything we have with a drunken mistake.”

Matty’s heart faltered. Felt it fucking implode and then shrivel up inside his chest. Mistake. 

He fought hard to keep his mask in place, smiling away. He sipped at his brew to keep the sudden sickness that jilted his stomach at bay then patched his bleeding heart back up. “How long’s a while?” He teased, smirking felt easier than a smile anyway.

It was her turn to roll her eyes at him then, laughing softly when she retracted her gaze, though their legs stayed intertwined.

“I don’t really know.”

“Yes, you do.” Matty laughed, having none of it, “Come on, a couple months?” She kept quiet, “A year?”

He frowned when she began to chew on her bottom lip, fighting the urge to reach out and stop her. “Two?”

“Six.” She answered him, probably tired of the guessing game.

“Six.” Matty murmured, reeling at the information. Six years. He’d fucking explode, “Is that even healthy?”

Squeaks was so quick in the way her hand shot out to swat him, “It’s fine, you dickhead! And besides, I just meant properly, you know? Like, there’s been a few quick passings but nothing, nothing like that.”

“Wow.”

“Don’t be a prick about it!” She immediately retorted to his breathy reply, obviously a little embarrassed and annoyed. “I have a toddler! And I’m always so fucking busy! I don’t even have the time to think about it!”

“Sounds like what you need is to get laid, babe.”

He snorted when she wacked him again, purposely ignoring the thoughts of her and him, drunken mistake.

“Leave off!”

“Fine then, I will for now.” Matty laughed, rubbing at his bicep, she continued to glare. “You want breakfast then? Or lunch now, I ‘spose. Can order in.”

Her knee knocked against his once more. Goosebumps trailed the length of his skin.

“Need to be back to pick up Teds from the nursery but yeah, lunch sounds nice.” She smiled, and for a second Matty was frozen in that very moment, content to just watch her smile at him like that forever.

Nice nice nice.

–

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.” I said, my tone almost scolding, but I’d been unable to flat out deny Matty of his request to come and help me pick Teddy up from school. I’d spent the rest of the day at his place, been given an actual tour, eaten some good food, and thankfully had been able to avoid any more awkward conversations pertaining to our wake up call that morning.

“What? You said I could!” He sounded almost petulant. “Besides, it’ll be lowkey, I have my hat, a hood. No one will know! Also, I’m not that important. Don’t reckon many four year olds are listening to Sex on the drive home.”

I snorted but my mind still flashed to memories of only hours earlier. My cheeks pinked. “First- lowkey, really? Aren’t we too old to be saying that? And second, that hat is the same fucking hat you haven’t taken off since Christmas!”

“Before Christmas, actually.” Matty said snidely, smirking all the while, even as he ducked to avoid the swat of my hand. “And anyway, I love this hat, so kindly fuck off.”

“Charmin’.”

Matty spent the rest of the walk to Teddy’s nursery singing This Charming Man whilst my mind lingered on his words. Claims of how he loved the small, insignificant gift Teddy and I had handed him. 

By the time we made it past the school gates, we’d been nudging shoulders and grazing hands most of the walk, so wrapped up in one another that I didn’t even realise I’d forgotten my phone somewhere until I patted down my pockets in the playground.

“Shit.” I muttered.

Matty, still blissfully unaware of my sudden circumstance and humming softly, kept on surveying the small school. “Yeah, the mural could use a bit of work but I think it’s meant to look shit, you know. Reckon the kids probably did it.”

Furrowing my forehead at his words, I then peered up at him, “No, I forgot my phone.”

Realisation dawned but then he shrugged, as if it were no big deal, “It’s probably still at mine, you use it this morning?”

I shook my head, feeling panicked now, which was stupid because it was just a phone. But, it also housed most of the things I considered important in my life; my work contacts, documents, notes, and To Do’s; Teddy’s doctors and dentist and school’s numbers; all the memories I’d made in the last few months that I had yet to save onto my icloud or hard drive; and pictures of Matty and I, as well as the rest of the guys too, but also our texts and little messages on Twitter and Instagram.

Losing it? I hated the very thought.

“No, I haven't touched it since last night. Could’ve left it at the club, or in the cab, or the-”

Matty’s hands came to cradle my shoulders, making me pause, and I realised he’d moved to stand before me, looking down at my pinched expression with a small smile. “You’re stressing, just take a breath. Alright? We’ll find it, ‘cause I’m sure it's back at mine anyway, but if not, then we can get it blocked and whatnot, try to get a new one before tomorrow.”

I forced myself to suck in a breath, still reeling from the feeling of my heart dropping to my arse. “Yeah, yeah I know, it’s just-”

“One of them things.” He finished with a knowing smile, hands squeezing my shoulders briefly before he wrapped me up in a hug. “Stressin’ won’t help and will only have Teds all wound up when he sees, yeah? We’ll sort it.”

His words ebbed my every worry just for a moment, I took another breath and let my arms find his waist, returning the hug and enjoying the way he settled his chin atop my head. 

“Okay.” I whispered into the edge of his coat, smiling when he squeezed me tight and then pulled away, “Sorry.”

Matty rolled his eyes at me, “Shut up.”

I chuckled to myself, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching out again and instead glanced about the rest of the playground. Most of the mums were here now and that panic that had subsided only a second ago almost came back in full force when I noticed how intensely they were watching me, or rather, Matty and I.

Carefully, I pivoted behind Matty, keeping my back to the gated fence which enclosed the school, but also forcing Matty to turn confusedly after me, his own back now facing the rest of the watchers.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He snorted with a bemused sort of frown, “Hiding?”

“Maybe.”

That had been the wrong thing to say because Matty nearly turned to glance back around, I reached out to stop him, hand encasing his elbow. “Don’t, alright? There’s a shit ton of mums just watching us. Got eyes like hawks or something.”

Matty merely blinked back at me before laughing, “You’re for real? Come on, they can’t be that bad.”

He went to turn again, only this time I couldn’t stop him. “Matty!” I called in a hissed whisper and he was quick to spin back around, face a little shocked.

“You reckon they’ll close in on us? I dunno if I can outrun them.”

I spluttered out an unexpected laugh, “I hope not. They usually hate me.”

Matty’s frown was quick to make a reappearance, “What, why?”

Shrugging, I glanced over his right shoulder, “You want a list? I’m a young mum, single, my kid doesn’t know his dad, I look like this, I don’t have a normal job or stay at home to take care of him, and sometimes Teds gets picked up by Finn or Adi, I don’t attend their stupid little-”

“Fuckin’ hell, alright I get it.” Matty said, his hand reaching out for my elbow just to slow me on my rant. “What a bunch of cunts.”

I forced a smile, “Yeah, well. Just another part of my life.”

Matty pulled a strange face at that, but before I could begin to decipher it, the classroom doors were opening and I was quick to step forward. Matty lingered behind me, keeping his hood up.

A few kids were called when Miss Sparks spotted certain parents and she did the same for Teddy when she saw me and smiled. “Teddy, your mum’s here!”

It only took a minute or so before Teddy came stumbling out with his backpack thrown over one shoulder and his hair a messy mass of curls. I grinned at the sight of him and picked him up when he hurried to grab at my legs, “Heya, little man. Good day?”

Teddy nodded in my arms, opening his mouth to tell me all about it when he peered over my shoulder and paused, his eyes lit up at the face he found there. “Matty!” Teddy all but squealed, immediately wriggling in my hold to make an escape towards the man.

Matty laughed, his eyes wide and dancing with warmth as he held out his arms for Teddy to jump on into. I rolled my eyes at the exchange but couldn’t help the way my whole being radiated with the beaming smile I wore.

“Alright, monster?” Matty greeted him, settling Teddy on his hip once he was done playfully swinging him about a bit. “How was nursery, hey?”

Teddy was still so awed by Matty’s appearance at his school, of all places, that he was eager to tell the man literally everything about his day. It was only once we’d managed to make a quick exit out of one of the side gates, that Teddy finally asked, “How’d you get here, Matty?”

Matty merely grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at the boy, “Magic.”

With a wrinkled nose, Teddy giggled, “Matty!”

“Alright, alright, jheeze.” Matty relented, all too easily, “I annoyed your mum into letting me come pick you up, didn’t I?”

Teddy looked at me with that, as though I’d gone and put all of the stars into the night sky. “Ta, mama!”

I shook my head at him fondly, leaning in to press a kiss to my baby’s cheek. “You hungry?” I asked him, instead of focusing on the entire scenario at hand, how Teddy seemed to cling to Matty and how entirely charmed Matty was by the boy. They appeared so close in that moment, it made me notice just how different Teddy’s reactions to Matty were to that of Finn’s, a man who had always been a constant in Teddy’s life.

The thought sent me spiralling down a rabbit hole, but thankfully before I could fall any further Teddy was nodding happily and Matty was making a suggestion, “Dinner at mine then?”

Teddy seemed thrilled with the idea but I merely raised a brow at Matty, “What ever will we make with your one egg and half a dozen jams?”

“Toast?” Matty grinned, enjoying the eye roll he received in return as he leaned in to laugh with Teddy. He looked back to me after a moment, “Could head to the shops if you wanna cook, or just order in.”

I pursed my lips, “Would you be able to?”

“To what?” Matty frowned.

I looked ahead as I clarified, “Get some shopping.” 

It was his turn to roll his eyes then, nudging his elbow against mine, “Yes, you muppet.” He shook his head when he glanced back at Teddy, feigning a huff that made the toddler giggle, “What do you want then, little man?”

“Ghetti.”

Matty could only blink.

–

By the time we’d made a quick whip around the local Waitrose (because Matty lives in an affluent area and not because he’s ‘pretentious’, he’d like to claim) and back to his, we’d been pictured more than a dozen times. 

Although, we’d only found this out when I’d finally caught sight of my phone, wedged between Matty’s bed-frame and the mattress, and managed to charge it. In between then and now, I had roped Matty into helping me cook whilst Teddy worked at the counter doing today’s reading.

“B-ah.” Matty carefully sounded out, still wearing one of the mock aprons Ross had apparently gifted him one Christmas, it was frilly, pink and had ‘This girl loves meat’ written in a pretty font. My own was of a similar fashion, only the words ‘Always use protection’ were warped across its front. “B-ah-guh.” He said once more, leaning up against the counter by Teddy.

“Bag!” Teddy exclaimed excitedly and looked practically giddy when Matty loudly cheered for him.

“Go on, mate! Knew you could do it.” Matty complimented, grinning down at Teddy before ruffling his hair and pulling him into a one armed hug. “Let’s see if we can get the next one before your mum’s done with the spaghetti, yeah?”

Teddy was all too happy to agree, something I slightly resented seeing as he whinged and moaned whenever I asked. But it was nice to see him enjoying his homework for once, a concept that was still so mad to me considering the kid was four. 

“‘Bout five minutes to boil now,” I told them as I wiped my hands on a nearby tea towel. My phone finally powered on then and so I moved about the counter to grab at it, not wanting to miss any important notifications. Adi and I had a guest on the show this week and had yet to be filled in on the requirements needed.

Only, before I could even pick the thing up, it started buzzing like mad with hundreds of notifications. 

With wide eyes I turned to glance over at Matty, who had paused in his helping of Teddy and was already staring back at me. I blinked and then went to pick the thing up, even as it continued to buzz, but Matty was now moving too, “No, wait.”

I shook my head, wanting to know what the hell was happening, but Matty had been closer, quicker, and was already reaching out to grab it. “Let me look first.”

“Matty.” I huffed, annoyed, but the man didn’t relent. Actually his expression only worsened as he scrolled through the thousands of alerts on my phone. “Matty! What’s the fucks going on?”

“Bad word!”

I winced, then turned to look over my shoulder, “Sorry, Teds, won’t do it again. No chocolate for me tonight, yeah?” My toddler nodded sternly, it made me smile before I glanced back at Matty who’s mood had obviously soured. He tossed the phone back down onto the counter and went to leave the kitchen, I could only assume to look for his own, “Oi!” I admonished, but he just shook his head, seemingly muddled.

“Sorry. Just- gimme a sec.”

I watched as he left, Teddy eyes latched onto him too before he turned back to face me, “Sad Matty?” He asked and I gave him another small smile.

“Not sure, baby. But he’ll be okay in a second.” Or at least I hoped. Teddy took it though and nodded, already going back to his work, though he kept looking over at the door every few seconds.

I forced my shoulders to drop, knowing the tension would only wreak havoc on my back come bed tonight, and took a careful step towards my phone. 

It had stopped pinging so incessantly now, but the odd notification still came through.

[HOMESCREEN] 17:18 Twitter now  Trending.. Notifications..  Instagram now Open to view News 1m Matty Healy's new budding romance? 

My heart stopped. It was all there, us dancing at the club, getting into the cab, Matty at his front gate this morning with the food delivery driver, us walking to pick up Teddy, the hug we'd shared in the playground, Matty holding a bundle that could have only been Teddy in an aisle at the shops- thankfully his face was hidden, the only saving grace of it all. But still, it all looked so convincing. 

We were definitely in deep shit.

“Squeaks?”

My head snapped up to find Matty standing over by the counter, his body tense but a gentle hand holding Teddy’s own, the horror I felt must’ve shown on my face because he winced.

“We’ve gotta talk.”

[insidemymind19]

About you

Part 2

I’m really not sure how I feel about this so any feedback is more than welcome

Warnings: heavy mentions of: drug use,miscarriage,blood,pregnancy,TRNSMT 2017

If your uncomfortable with any of these subjects please DONT READ

2017

“Els whereee are you” she hears Matty’s voice boom around the hotel room as she retches into the toilet once more. “There you are my darling princess angel.” He’s high again. “I can’t wait for this show tonight the Scottish crowds are fucking amazing I just feel so good” he yells not even noticing his girlfriend clinging to the toilet like her life depends on it. “Come on baby let’s go to the bar get a drink loosen up before the show” he coaxes completely oblivious to the situation in front of him. “No matty I have to get ready and I don’t think you need anymore” Ellie tries to be as delicate as possible as not to annoy the high man in front of her, “right ok be like that then I’ll just go alone you obviously don’t want to spend any time with me” he deadpans not understanding what she’s saying. “Matty I didn’t mean it like that” she yells as she hears the hotel door slam behind him. She can’t cope with him when he’s like this. Elouise reaches for her phone and shoots a message to the group chat they set for situations like this, ‘he’s really bad today said he was going to the bar can someone go find him don’t think he wants to see me at the moment. This shows going to be rough’ she hits send praying that some of the guys are able to sober him up before the show.

“Ok what’s wrong you’re being quite” Ross asks Ellie as he sits in her hotel room after a few minutes of observing her, “Ross I don’t know what to do” Ellie replies emotion leaking through her voice with Ross instantly having an idea what she’s talking about. “Elouise it’s not your responsibility to look after him yes you might be together but you know how he is he’ll not listen to any of us, we all know he needs help but we can’t do that until he realises himself” Ross tell her curtly. “I know that but that’s not everything” Ellie thinks for a moment as to whether or not to tell him. “I… Im.. um” “Ellie just spit it out” Ross replies wanting to know what’s going on. “I’m pregnant” Ellie replies quickly, not wanting to admit what is happening. Ross is taken aback by this revelation. “Are you sure, have you done a test? You might not be” Ross replies trying to reassure the women sat in front of him. “Yes Ross I’m sure I’ve done 4 tests” Ellie Quietly says. “Shit does matty know” “no I don’t know how to tell him. What if this tips him over the edge Ross I can’t do it on my own” Ellie replies desperation in her voice. Ross’s Heart breaks for the blonde women he considers a sister sat in front of him tears in her eyes instantly engulfing her in a hug, “Elouise so many people are there for you and I know for a fact you would never be on your own ok, me George, Adam, Carly,Grace, your mum, Denise So many people care about you Ellie” Ross replies doing his best to reassure her all things considering.

As Ellie stands side stage at TRNSMT she knows this is going to tough, just then she feels George place an arm around her shoulder and a soft kiss on her head whispering a “we’ll be ok.” they take the stage and start to play the opening notes to love me she watches Matty prance around the stage her heart aching not only for him but for the little life inside of her.

the show is over they’re all sat quietly backstage Matty nowhere to be found Ellie feels a sharp pain in stomach, something she’s been feeling since she stepped off stage, Ross notices her face screw up in pain, “you ok” he says in her direction alerting to George and Adam to the situation too, “um yeah probably just soar from standing up for so long and not eating” Ellie says trying not to alert the other whilst reassuring herself. “Ellie you’re bleeding” Adam says as he notices the blood pool in her lap the pain in her abdomen crippling now. “Elouise we need to get to the hospital now” Ross says panicked as he watches the colour drain from her face her eyes growing droopy. “Wait what’s wrong what’s happening” George asks not understanding the situation. “She’s pregnant” Ross hastily explains whilst lifting the barley conscious women into his arms, “Els hey look your going to be ok Yeah everything’s going to be fine” he tries to reassure her whilst lacing his finger in hers

‘Where am I’ Ellie thinks to herself, light blinding her a horrible aching in her stomach, the familiar feeling of a calloused hand in hers, a constant beeping sending a piercing pain through her aching head. After a few moments she gains the energy and whimpers softly, alerting the man beside her as her reassures her with his words that she’s ok squeezing her hand softly, a feeling she knows all to well from him, she lets out a soft murmur of his name “matty” she tries to move to see him a horrible pain spasming through her stomach groaning in pain, “hey hey Els don’t move ok” she opens her eyes at the unmistakable sound of Adams voice, glancing around the room in her confused state “where’s matty” “I need matty” Ellie pleads with Adam, “do you remember what happened Ellie” Adam asks cautiously not really sure how to approach the subject “I remember being in pain on stage” then suddenly it clicks “wait Adam is the baby ok” “is my baby ok” she asks Adam in desperation. The look on her face tells her all she needed to know, “I’m so so sorry el” Adam says as he dives into her arms to bring her some form of comfort. Ellie’s sure she feels her heart shatter in that moment, 5 words breaking her heart into tiny pieces “ I… I didn’t even get to tell matty” she sobs loudly “he didn’t even know” she lets out through straggled breaths. “Where is he” “why isn’t he here Adam” she screams.

Back at the hotel Matty is on a comedown. A bad comedown. Sitting at the toilet shaking and shivering, “Here mate drink some more of this, try get this shit out of your system” as George hands him a glass of water. “Where’s Ellie she’s got far better bedside manner than you” matty groans earning him a warning glare from george, he soon goes back to looking at his phone a worried expression on his face as he reads Ross’s message explaining that they’ve told her the news. Matty clocks the worried expression on his best friends face as he lifts his head, “whats with the face Georgie, who’s died” he questions tiredly, George giving him a look he can’t quite place, “what, what’s happened” matty asks. “Ellie she um.. No you know… um nothing it’s fine” George says quickly feeling like it’s not his place to break this news, but Matty needs to know what’s happening especially when it concerns Ellie.

Once again not sure about this but thank you so much for taking the time to read ❤️

[futurewriter2000]

The Daring, Forbidden and Evil - pt. 7

A/N: Just so you know, the title will be explained soon. Don't think I lost my spark when it comes to evilness.

XX

Fred hasn't been sleeping well because of you. You had consumed his mind in every way possible. He didn't trust you and he felt it in his guts that something wasn't right. He knew George had a great sense for people. He had never once judged a person wrongly. He trusted George and he knew that his brother wouldn't make such a stupid mistake by dating you. Yet, everything inside of him fought this feeling of trust when it came to you.

He got off his bed, checked the clock that said it was still early 5 in the morning. He grabbed a package of cigarettes that he hid from everybody except George and he started walking down the stairs. He stopped at the sight of two people whispering. He retrieved his steps carefully and listened.

"It is not smart arguing with Sirius or the others!" the first voice whispered loudly, almost in a normal tone. He recognised it immediately. The voice belonged to you.

"Perhaps I should slither into this family, like you." he took a step closer- Snape it was. Fred could recognise his voice from another part of the world if he could. "I knew your parents, Miss Lestrange. I know of your past as well, don't think I didn't do my research." he started to warn you.

You leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest and smiling wickedly. "I believe you did your research well. That's all you do- run errands for your beloved Dumbledore. You're nothing but an errand boy and you do not speak of my parents. You know what they are capable of, don't think I'm not either." you hissed back.

"They'll figure you out. As naive as they are, they aren't stupid." he growled before turning his back on you and leaving.

You only stood there, leaning back on glaring at Snape's back. With a second you turned around towards the staircase and looked up. "Don't think I don't know you're there, Fredrick." you said and Fred shut his eyes forcefully before appearing in front of you, an unfamilliar expression on his face; anger.

"I heard everything." he said, standing high up the staircase.

You haven't moved a muscle. "Yeah, so? I have nothing to hide from anybody." you said, glancing down at his hand that held the pack of cigarettes. "Unlike you." you smirked. "Do others know you smoke that shit?"

To be honest, Fred was a bit amused by your fierce and brutally honest character, so he made a few steps down and looked at you. "Do other's know you're best mates with Snape?"

"Snape and I go back." you said, taking the box from his hand and walking towards the petit window in the kitchen. "Got a lighter?"

"Obviously." he said, throwing one at you and you smiled, lighting one on fire.

"Not being full of age sucks, when you can't use magic to light the fire without the Ministry of Magic being on your ass." you smiled, giving him back his proprety.

"Does George know you smoke?" he asked, lighting his on fire.

"I don't smoke." you said, blowing out smoke. "I just light it up once every 6 months." you smiled, sitting up on the counter, trying to be as close to the window as you could. He joined you.

"What brings you to light one on this occasion?"

"Bonding with his best mate." you smiled but he only stared. "Don't think I don't care. I do care about George more than you think. This isn't a hoax or anything. Coming from an evil family doesn't bring you much peace later in life."

"Why didn't your name then? It'd make everything easier- even this."

"And lie? Where does keeping secrets bring you anywhere?" you eyed him, flicking away the ash from the tip of your cigarette. "My parents weren't evil when they had me. Mum was kind and loving- dad was even better. He had a great, calming energy. They faught but they loved each other." you continued, staring through the window. "Something in my mother just clicked and she changed- went mad." you paused. "She wasn't herself when she parted- my grandmother told me my father didn't want to stay with me because he loved her, took an oath or some shit. He even went to Azkaban for her and she just left me." you looked at him, his face hasn't changed a thing.

"Just because you're telling me this, doesn't mean I trust you any more than I did before."

"I'm not telling you this bullshit without a reason." you snapped back and he cracked a smirk. "I'm telling you this to let you know that I kept my last name because I'm proud of being a Lastrange before they went crazy. For me, they died the day they left me. My grandmother raised me just as such." you replied, threw the unfinished cigar through the window into the snow and jumped off the counter.

He only changed his sitting position and continued to pull in the tobacco. "And about Snape?"

"What about Snape?"

"He said something about your past."

"We all have a past, Fred."

"You said you didn't hide anything."

"It's not hidden, I just left it in France, buried there."

"It or him?"

You let out a laugh. "Him?"

"Her then?"

"What makes you think it's a person?"

He threw the cigarette through the window and jumped down. "You might be a great liar but you're not as great trickster as I am. I see through and through you, Lestrange. You come from the family of evil, don't believe I don't see those tricks up your sleeve."

You raised your eyebrows, amused. "Everything for your family, huh Fred?"

"Everything for yours, huh (y/n)?" he towered over you and you only stared up at him, your eyes flashing a bit of truth before hiding it back behind their colour.

That's surprising. You hadn't thought they would see it but one sure can. You'll have to fix that soon.

[welcometoneverland-98]

Laughter Lines // 2 - The Castle

❂ ❂ ❂

1 9 8 9

ｙｅａｒ １

I was afraid, but I had no intentions of ever showing that to my mother as she had her hand on my shoulder and stood behind me as I pushed the trolley with my own trunk and the cage for my barn owl. Just last year I was standing here, filled with excitement about going to Hogwarts and now the time had come for me to leave and I was suddenly filled with what I knew to be fear. 

It wasn't fear of being alone, I knew I had my brother with me and would be surrounded by a lot of students and all the professors that lived there. I was afraid because it was very new, the feeling of leaving and then suddenly remembering that mum would be alone in the cottage, with only our pets to really keep her company. Maybe she would enjoy some time by herself, but I couldn't help but think that she would have no one to tell her stories too and I would have no one to tell me their stories. So fear was a good word for what I was feeling, but nonetheless I was going, of that I was sure. 

Both me and my brother hugged our mum, my hug lasting longer than Roman's. 

"Don't be scared" she whispered in my ear as we hugged "you're a Black, and that means something"

She then parted with a smile on her lips as I nodded my head. My brother placed his hand on my shoulder, guiding me towards the train as every kid seemed to have started getting on.

It was one thing seeing the train from the outside and it was a very different one seeing it from the inside. The carriages were filled with kids and teens all happy and talking to each other. It was filled with noise, sounds from owls and the smell of sweets, it seemed to be just a brief glance of what would await all of us at hogwarts. Some people had their wands out, already practicing some spells and seeming to be having their fun and there were even some already reading books as they sat down. My eyes had been so fixed on everything else that was surrounding me that I had lost track of my brother in the middle of all the commotion. 

He wasn't in the corridors and I didn't quite feel like exploring the entire train to try to find him, so for a while I just stood where I was, my head moving from side to side to try and get a glimpse of his black curls.

"Hello" I heard two voices speak in unison, making me slightly jump and then look to my right.

Inside one compartment there were twin boys sitting down in front of one another. They had very bright ginger hair and brown eyes, and for a few moments I started to try and find something, just anything at all that could help me tell them apart but there just seemed to be nothing at all. 

"Do you want to sit?" the one on the right asked, but the other one quickly reached his arm out and slapped him in the head.

"You don't just ask a girl if she wants to sit with us, she doesn't even know us Georgie! For all she knows we can be dangerous" the boy then turned to me, in what I could only assume, was an attempt to make a creepy face but as soon as he tried to make it, he had burst off laughing "I'm Fred, this is George"

I nodded my head, a smile appearing on my lips as I started to approach the boys, my hand now touching the glass door to their compartment. I was about to say my own name and get inside when a firm hand held onto my arm, making me almost lose my balance and I was then met with my brother who was eying the ginger boys in front of me.

"C'mon I found us a place to sit near my friends" he spoke, barely looking at me as he was still locking eyes with the twin boys who by now had stopped smiling all together. 

My brother led me to a compartment that had a girl and a boy inside and I assumed they were also Slytherins since my brother mentioned they were his friends. For the rest of the train ride I was quiet, just hearing my brother and his friends talk about their classes and everyone else at Hogwarts and without knowing, already having a taste of how judgmental some people can be. 

❂ ❂ ❂

We had stopped at the Hogsmead station, I had some plain black robes on with the Hogwarts insignia on them and I soon hoped that it would have green colours on it, the same as my parents and brother. He had parted from me, stating that first years go on a boat while he gets to go on a carriage this year for the first time. I felt some envy, especially after knowing that they were magically enchanted and pulled themselves but then I saw the entire lake right ahead of me and all of that envy washed away. A man named Hagrid presented himself as he told us all to gather up, he was the groundkeeper and was now responsible to get us all safely inside the boats so we could get to Hogwarts and start our journey there.

My hands were holding onto the wooden boat, my eyes focused on the water as it moved underneath us, my mind wondering to what could be underneath all that water and then I saw it for the first time. The castle. If there is ever a moment which I will never forget is the first time that I saw Hogwarts.

There was this very peaceful moment right there in that water, with the lights from the castle glowing in the water, but it was then soon disrupted by a choir of voice that I had heard not long ago in the train. 

"Fancy seeing you here" the twins stood behind me, a smile on each of their faces.

One of them was holding up the light that was illuminating the entire boat, and for a split second I wondered if that was a good idea because whenever the boat slightly rocked he would pretend to drop the lamp in the water making everyone look at him. 

"Who was that rude boy taking you away at the train?" the one holding the lamp asked.

"That would be my brother, Roman" I spoke, my eyes still stuck on the twins as I desperately tried to find something to help me tell them apart. 

"Brothers are the worst" the one with the lamp spoke again.

"We have four of them" the one near me said, making me turn my head from one to another.

"And a sister" they said at the same time. 

I had not known these boys for a long time, but it was now very clear to me that they were a handful, just the way they talked in such unison was a very strong indicator of how close they seemed to be and there was a very noticeable hint of mischief in both of them. I could tell, just by that boat trip that they would be some sort of trouble and I didn't know whether or not I wanted to get in the middle of it.

❂ ❂ ❂

[desos-records]

Chapter 16: Not In Blood, But In Bond

First | Prev / Next

Ghost possession doesn't happen often, but fatality rates are high. Even if an agent does survive, there are the aftereffects to worry about.

After surviving a possession, Lucy Carlyle struggles with recovery, delving ever deeper into the memories of Visitors and, in the process, stumbling into the world of blackmarket Sources.

Meanwhile, George Karim races to learn the truth behind ghost possession in order to protect Lucy and save future agents.

And Anthony Lockwood must face his own past with the London underworld if he wants to save his friends and himself.

-

"Do you remember our deal?" George asked, cornering Lockwood in the basement office where he stood in front of his desk with his back to the entrance.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair—it stuck up all around his head so that he resembled a disgruntled porcupine—not even turning around as he stared at the map of London on the wall. Yellow and red pins stuck out from various locations, the site of every case Lockwood & Co had ever taken, yellow for Type Ones, red for Type Twos. The pins had almost doubled in number since Lucy's arrival.

"And which deal is that?" he asked, voice low in his throat.

Lockwood could do strange things with his voice, making himself sound older or smarter or more in control, mirroring vocal tics and patterns to subtly earn the trust of clients. George had noticed how he picked up Lucy's habit of dropping her voice when she wanted to be taken seriously and his own tendency to click his tongue in disapproval. Lockwood's surface changed so very easily.

Now, George thought he could hear the ring of a drawn rapier in his voice, the silence before a strike.

"You promised you would tell me if it were getting bad again."

"I'm fine, George."

"You're not telling us everything. Someone shot you and you're not even the least bit concerned? They could've killed you. And it's like you don't even care!"

Lockwood didn't answer and didn't move. With irritating desperation, George wished he'd yell or throw things or at least try and tick him off—anything, anything, but silence.

"It's more than just the relicmen or Fairfax," he continued, not bothering to hide the edge building in his voice. "And whatever it is, you can't pretend it doesn't concern us."

"It's my company," Lockwood said slowly. "I don't have to—"

"Don't give me that," George snapped. "Your name might be on the door, but we're all of us risking our lives out there. Tell me what's going on or, so help me, I will bench you myself."

Finally, he turned around and leaned against the desk as if needing it for support. Lockwood could construct a mask of himself as easily as breathing and so convincing that George sometimes forgot what lay beneath. He saw it now, in his bottomless black eyes, the grief and the anger and, worst of all, the guilt. It struck George with such force, he felt it in his chest like a salt-bomb.

"I don't know how," Lockwood whispered. A corner of his mouth quirked and he exhaled shortly. "Funny, isn't it? Me being lost for words."

"You could talk the mortar out of a brick wall," George said, tossing a life line into stormy waters. "You can talk to me."

"There are things about me, about my past, that you wouldn't like if you knew."

He scoffed. "You burn toast even with an automatic toaster. I struggle to see how anything could be worse than the fact I can't trust you in the kitchen for two minutes put together."

A sad, hesitant smile collected in Lockwood's face. "Literal or metaphorical?"

"Very literal."

Then he took a careful breath through his nose and let it out again through his mouth. George remembered teaching him how to do that when he needed to regulate himself, something he'd learnt from his mum.

"Alright then," he said, and hopped up onto his desk, swinging his feet like a kid. "What do you know about the relic black market?"

George pulled around his desk chair and flopped into it, wishing they'd started this conversation in the kitchen so he could've at least had some tea. "Relicmen steal Sources and sell them to rich, eccentric buyers too thick to come up with something better to spend their money on."

"Rich and eccentric is right. And thick, certainly, but more importantly…" Lockwood paused and picked up a small paperweight shaped like the Egyptian god, Osiris, tracing the feathers along its crown with his thumb. The metal shone bright over the spot while the rest was dull. "They're desperate for what their money can't buy."

"Which is?"

"A foot in the door to the most exclusive club in England. One with the answers to all your problems." He said this so wearily it reminded him of Barnes.

"You're being cryptic."

"It is cryptic. Relic hunters call it the Hidden Archive. Because that's what they do, collect Sources in exchange for favors. They can make the scandals of the idle rich disappear, save companies from bankruptcy, make agents turn up on the shores of the Thames rather than their homes. George, these people make Fairfax look like a child playing at pretend."

George frowned. "And nobody notices? Not DEPRAC, not the police, not anyone?"

"Believe me, they know. Barnes knows. But they have their people everywhere, planted in every institution you can think of. And they're too careful to leave evidence."

"How do you know all this?"

"Because I used to work for them."

One of the earliest cases that George took as an agent had, without warning, gone from a simple Type One to a full-blown poltergeist. The Visitor had created a vortex in a room far too small for it and he remembered the feeling of air torn from his lungs. He felt a bit like that now.

"I told you and Lucy the truth before," Lockwood continued. "I wasn't a relicman. I was something much worse."

George shook himself a little, then took his glasses off and started to rub at them. "You could do without the dramatizing, you know," he said mildly.

He could practically hear the exhausted smile when Lockwood spoke again. "I started as a canary, using my Talent to test the strength of Sources for them. Then I sold them some of my parents' artefacts and, eventually, they took me on as a runner instead—transporting Sources and artefacts to and from deals. No one looks twice at a kid with a rapier carrying a bag of silver-glass, do they?"

"And all this on top of agent training?"

"Ah. No." Lockwood flashed a quick, apologetic grin. "Not exactly. Nigel Sykes was one of theirs. My point of contact, you might call him. I'm not convinced that was actually his name, he always—"

"Wait." George slipped his glasses back on. "Were you actually trained at all? Are you even certified?"

"All my paperwork is in order, if that's what you're asking."

"Jesus." 

No bloody wonder, he thought. A thousand small mysteries about Anthony Lockwood abruptly slotted into place. 

Then something occurred to George. He sat forward in his chair. "You said you used to work for them. How did you get out? They don't strike me as the type to accept resignations."

"They aren't." Lockwood shrugged and set down the paperweight. "I blackmailed one of their main suppliers," he said, trying and failing to not sound smug about it.

"What?"

"For a while, they seemed content to let me go, but things have changed. The Archive is buying again and everyone in the underworld wants in."

"And then you told all of London we'd handled the Source of a famous Type Two."

Lockwood clicked his tongue. "Not my finest moment. Annabel's ring would be worth a small favor or two. Minor players would kill for that."

"But what does the Archive want with all those Sources?"

"No one knows. But George…" He planted his hands on the desk and leaned forward, a sharp light in his eyes. "They don't just collect Sources, but strong Talents too. People like us, we go missing when they're around. I don't want that—"

George suddenly shot to his feet, having been slammed full force with a memory. "The Jalandhari Kidnappings!" he cried.

"The what?"

He pulled open the cabinet by his desk and tore through his case files until he found the right one. Then he threw it at Lockwood, who just managed to catch it, making a sound like he'd been hit in the gut with a football instead.

"The Jalandhari Agency—this was a few years ago—was a new, up-and-coming agency working primarily in underserved immigrant neighborhoods. A real human interest story, got lots of fancy press. I've some newspaper clippings in there." He gestured at Lockwood to open the file and he obliged, starting to skim through it.

"I think I remember hearing something about that," Lockwood said, meaning that he hadn't, but was willing to humor him anyway.

"Fittes and Rotwell were in a bit of a rough patch at the time. A big scandal broke out about labor abuse and safety violations, agents were resigning left and right. Some of the best ended up at Jalandhari. Until—" George grabbed the case file and flipped it open to the appropriate section then dropped it back into Lockwood's hands.

Inside, a full two-paged magazine spread showed the bodies of six dead agents in various locations and stages of ghost-lock, all wearing orange and white uniforms with a tiger emblem on the back. The headline read Six Jalandhari Agents Found Dead, More Still Missing.

"That's a tad gratuitous," Lockwood muttered.

George went on. "Over a couple of months, the entire agency went missing. A few more turned up dead after this article, but not all of them. The rest are still unaccounted for. Everyone chalked it up to mismanagement. But guess what happened right before the first agent went missing."

Lockwood looked up slowly, one eyebrow raised. "I'm sure you'll tell me."

"Fittes caught the London Bridge Hangman."

That got Lockwood's attention, finally. He sat up straighter, turning to a page in the file with a list of the missing agents. "That's right. One of their seers ID'd the victims even though they were just howling shades hanging below the bridge at night. They managed to track down the killer only to find he'd shot himself and become a nasty Type Two. Penelope Fittes herself supervised the team."

"If Annabel Ward is worth a small favor, what do you think something like that would get you?"

"A dead agency," Lockwood said, and screwed his face up into a horrified frown. "Do you see, then, why they're so dangerous? I'm working on a way to get them off our backs. I just need more time."

George shook his head, curls flying and glasses flashing. "Not if we find the missing Jalandhari Agents and bring them to DEPRAC. If the Archive collects Talents, as you said, they might still be alive somewhere. What if they're still working for them? Or being kept somewhere? Any institution, no matter how secret, has to have a base of operations."

"You want to take down the Hidden Archive?"

"It would be a more permanent solution than blackmail."

Lockwood shook his head faintly, a wild grin forming in his face. "Brilliant, George, as usual. We'll run the idea by Lucy, then decide as an agency."

Just as Lockwood hopped off the desk and handed George the case file, a crash sounded from upstairs, followed by a heavy and final thud. Ice ran through George's blood and, as he turned and opened his mouth to suggest what the sound might've been, Lockwood was already sprinting for the iron stairs.

[justtluffythings]

HOME: Book 6 - CHAPTER THREE

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“Fred! George! It’s time to go! We’re going to be late!” Veronica took the stairs two at a time up to the second floor and knocked on the twins’ door. After a moment, when she hadn’t gotten a response, she announced that she was coming in and slowly opened the door. To her surprise, their trunks were sitting in the middle of the room, but the twins were nowhere to be found. “Fred? George? Where are you?”

As she looked around wondering where they could be, Veronica remembered that they always spent a lot of time with the ghoul in the attic, and she wondered if perhaps they had just wanted to say goodbye before they left. She was about to begin making her way up the winding staircase when she heard muffled voices coming from the floor below. The only rooms on the first floor belonged to Charlie and Ginny, so she was confused as to what they were doing down there, but she could only assume they were trying to prank her. Cautiously making her way down the steps, she slowly opened Ginny’s door first, half expecting something to fall on her head. When the coast was clear, she made her way over and stood in front of Charlie’s door. Throwing it open while standing in the hallway, she allowed the door to open fully before slowly going inside. Of all the things she had been expecting, what she saw wasn’t even on the list. 

The boys were sitting on their brother’s bed with one of Bill’s old Gryffindor scarves in their hands. He had given it to them before he left, and with the way they were staring at it, it almost looked like they were hoping it would talk to them. The twins always had the biggest smiles on their faces, so seeing them so upset hurt her heart, and she desperately wanted to fix whatever was bothering them. 

Kneeling down in front of them, she placed a hand on their knees, and the pair jumped as if they had only just realized she was there. Veronica’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s going on? What’s the matter?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Hey… don’t do that. You both know you can talk to me about anything. What’s bothering you?”

Fred sighed as he whispered, “what if we don’t get sorted into Gryffindor? Our whole family have been Gryffindors for generations… Mum, Dad, Bill & Charlie… even Percy! They’re all Gryffindors. It’s a tradition in this family, but what if we’re the exception? Mum and Dad would be so disappointed.”

Veronica furrowed her eyebrows again and narrowed her eyes. “No, that’s not it. You two have never cared about other people’s opinions. And you know that your parents will accept you no matter what house you’re in. So there might be a little bit of anxiety around that, but it’s not what’s really bothering you. Tell me.”

The twins glanced at each other, and George nodded. Fred turned back to Veronica and expressed their fear in the smallest voice she had ever heard him use. “What if we get split up? What if we aren’t sorted into the same House?”

Veronica’s shoulders dropped and eyes widened as she nodded. “Look, you two. I know how stressful the sorting ceremony can be, especially when there’s one outcome that you want more than anything else. In your case, you both want to be Gryffindors, but more importantly, you don’t want to be separated. And I completely understand that. You’ve been attached at the hip your whole lives, so it’s normal for you to be scared of change. But just look at me and Charlie. I was worried at first that us being in two different Houses would divide us, but it just made our friendship stronger. We have to make a conscious effort to spend time together, and it lets us show each other how much we care. But we also get to enjoy being apart. I have my Ravenclaw friends, and Charlie has his Gryffindor friends. We get to spend time in our own Common Rooms and meet new people. And at the end of the day, our friendship is better off for it. So I know the idea can be scary, but it might do the two of you some good to have a little bit of independence from each other.”

Fred and George stared at her with wide eyes that were brimming with tears. “We don’t want independence! We want to stay together!”

“Okay, okay, please don’t cry. Listen, I’m going to tell you something that I haven’t told anyone… not even Charlie. But you have to promise to keep it a secret. Can you do that?” The twins nodded excitedly. “When I first went to Hogwarts and it was my turn to be sorted, the Sorting Hat had a hard time deciding which House to put me in.”

Fred gasped. “Really?”

Veronica nodded. This was the first time she was reliving this memory, and it made her anxious just thinking about it. “Mhm. It had told me that I would fit well in any of the Houses, but it seemed to be leaning the most towards Slytherin.” The two youngsters’ eyes widened and jaws dropped. They had heard many stories from their parents and older siblings about Slytherin, so they were having a hard time believing Veronica could have been one. “I know. That was my exact reaction too. Charlie had told me all about Slytherin on our train ride to the school, and while I didn’t think it was fair to assume that all Slytherins were evil, I knew that your brother believed that, and I was terrified that he wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore if I was sorted into that House. So I begged the Sorting Hat not to put me there. I didn’t specifically ask to be put in Ravenclaw, although it probably knew that’s where I wanted to go. I only asked for it not to be Slytherin.”

George was shocked. He had never heard of the Sorting Hat listening to a student before. “It really listened to you?”

Veronica nodded again. “It really did.”

“You never told me that.”

[enigmaticemperor]

I started this off wanting to make it angsty, but sometimes (all the time), the fic and characters just have a hold over you.

Prompt #8: Ginny vs Dursley

The front door clicked open, and Lily came running into the living room and jumped into Harry’s lap, prompting him to drop the newspaper and go, “oof!”

He caught her so she wouldn’t fall off and asked, “Did you have fun with Mummy, Elle?”

Ginny and the kids had a ‘Day with Mum’ today. He didn’t know how they were able to manage three kids on these ‘Day with Dad’ and ‘Day with Mum’, but it was a fun and tiring day for one and a completely relaxing one for the other.

“Yep,” she popped the ‘p’ and went on, “we had waffles and then went to Uncle George’s shop. Jay and Al were running around, trying out everything, while I didn’t do anything. I was a good girl.”

“I’m sure you were, Lily,” he nodded along with her, “You didn’t trick Uncle George into giving you a few wheezes.”

She smiled guiltily but said, “Yes, I didn’t.” She placed both her hands on her father’s cheeks and patted.

“Then we had ice cream and went to the park, and then we had lunch and went shopping! Look, Daddy, I got you something,” She pulled out a fancy-looking quill which had a dragon on the end from her bag and handed it to him. 

“Thank you!” He smiled and kissed her on the cheek, his beard scratching her, which caused her to giggle.

“James Sirius Potter! Put that down right now! And you too, Albus Fleamont Potter! Wait until we get inside!” Ginny could be heard from the entrance.

Lily leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Mummy’s angry.”

“Why?” He whispered back.

“I don’t know,” she looked at him with big hazel eyes. “We didn’t do anything!”

He kissed her forehead and said soothingly, “I know you didn’t, Elle. Let me talk to Mummy, ok? You go put those in your room.”

She jumped off his lap, took her bag, and shouted, “Ok, Daddy!” and ran towards her room.

Ginny came in with the boys and told them to put their stuff in their rooms before placing three more bags on the coffee table. She walked towards him and plopped down on the sofa, her legs in his lap. 

He decided she wasn’t close enough and pulled her into his lap, saying, “Lily told me you’re angry.” He buried his face into her hair.

She was silent for a moment and then said, “I saw Petunia and Vernon.”

Harry’s arms tightened around her, and his face went pale.

She ran her hands through his hair, and they sat in silence for a moment before Harry asked, “Where? What happened?”

“At the mall. Why do you assume something happened?” She countered defensively.

He sighed wearily, “I know you, Gin. They must have said something to set you off, and you shouted at them.”

“He called Jay, Al and Lily ‘little freaks’,” she said darkly.

“What!?” He said indignantly.

“I almost hexed him there but I settled on shouting at them. I didn’t want to make a scene.”

“I wouldn’t have minded this time.”

“They deserved it last time too,” she placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Did the kids hear it? They didn’t give any sign of it,” he asked worriedly, his hands restlessly playing with the straps of her sundress.

She shook her head and he sagged against her in relief. “They were too preoccupied with the toys section.”

“They shouldn’t have to hear that. Anything like that,” he said firmly.

“You aren’t a freak either, you know,” she forced him to look at her and placed a light, feathery kiss on his lips. “You shouldn’t have had to hear that too.”

“So my wife tells me,” he said, pulling her closer. She looked into his eyes and found that he was a little shaken by the memories, but that he wasn’t as affected as he used to be. It was comforting to know that he was slowly, but surely getting rid of the hold the Dursleys’ upbringing still had on him.

“Smart woman.” She kissed him, washing away the painful memories of his childhood. He was loved now. He had an amazing wife and three wonderful children and -

“Muuuuuum! Lily isn’t sharing the Lego set with me and James!!” Al whined.

“Lego set, huh?” He smirked, his green eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Oh, hush,” she smiled, “You got them that train set last time.”

“Muuuuum!” This time it was James.

She slid off his lap to go talk to their kids. “Coming!”

Yes, he couldn’t have wished for anything better.

Read the rest of my fics for November Hinnyfest 2k22 on ff.net!

[canirove]

Red & Blue | Chapter 2

Author’s note: First of all: thank you. Thank for reading that first chapter and for all the reblogs, likes and comments. Like, wow. I wasn't expecting it. At all. Especially because when I first shared this story with a friend to have a second opinion, I thought it was a weak first chapter 😅 So, again, thank you very much, and like I said yesterday on the new chapter of Declan's story, welcome to all the new people who started following me! 💜

There are things on this chapter similar to the ones we've currently seeing with both the men and women's teams at St. George's Park, but it is just a coincidence, I wrote this weeks ago. Did I manifest it? Maybe 👀😂 Anyway, thanks for reading, and hope you like it! 💜

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“Hello there” Emily says, opening the door of my car.

“Hello” I reply, getting out and giving her a hug.

“It’s so nice to have you back. We missed you last time.”

“I missed you too. And hello everyone” I say to Eddie, the photographer, and the camera men who are filming the arrivals.

“Oh, someone else is here” Emily says, moving towards the car that just arrived behind mine. “One sec.”

“No problem” I say, focusing on getting all my things from the car and not forgetting anything.

“Mason!” I hear Emily say behind me.

“Fuck” I whisper, the bag with my boots falling from my hands as the driver gives it to me.

“It’s alright, miss” he says, helping me pick them up.

“Do you need any help?” Emily asks behind us.

“We are fine. Just clumsy” I reply with a nervous laugh. “Thank you very much, sir” I say to the driver, moving towards the door. But before I can ignore Mason, he is standing next to me.

“Hi” he smiles. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Yeah” I mutter, trying to smile and not look like an idiot.

“Ok, passports” Emily says when we are inside the building. “And you don’t know how things work now, do you?” she asks me.

“Leah has told me a bit about it.”

“Oh, good. You’ll see that nothing much has changed. And...” she says, looking out the door “someone else just arrived, I better go. Mason, why don’t you show her around?”

“Sure. I’ll be her tour guide” he says to Emily before she leaves.

“You don’t have to do it. You probably want to meet the others.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ll have plenty of time to see them during these days” he smiles again. Damn it, he’s so handsome when he smiles. “Shall we?” he asks, gesturing towards the corridor in front of us.

“Wait, before you leave” Eddie says behind us. “Can I get a photo of you two together? You are two fan favorites.”

“For the fans then” Mason laughs while grabbing me by the waist, his touch making me feel things despite the layers of clothing.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━    

“Did you have the basketball court last time you were here?” Mason asks when we walk pass it.

“No, we didn’t.”

“Do you play?”

“I actually do, yes.”

“Then we must have a little game when we all are free. Let’s see if your hands are as talented as your feet” he says with a smirk.

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“I can’t believe Eddie made you pose together” Leah says, laying on my bed while checking all the photos from today, picking one to post on her Instagram. “I’m sure he also ships you.”

“Definitely” I say, rolling my eyes.

“I wonder what his fans will say when they see it. Will they go wild? Will they ship you? Will they hate you?”

“I guess we’ll find out soon. He just posted it” I say, showing Leah my phone.

“Let the games begin!” she laughs.

“Speaking of games” I say, putting my phone down and not wanting to look at it until tomorrow. “He asked me to play basketball with him later when we are free. Will you join us? I’m sure Declan will be there too.”

“Bffs vs. bffs? I’m in” she says with a mischievous smile.

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“Where did you learn to play like that?” Declan asks, lying on the floor.

“My mum used to play when she was younger and she taught me” I say, shooting another basket.

“And it goes in clean. Again. I can’t believe it” Mason laughs next to me.

“Annoying, isn’t it?” Leah says, sitting next to Declan.

“Very” he replies, still lying on the floor. “Let’s try again tomorrow. I’m not leaving St. George’s without winning against you at least once.”

“Good luck with that” I say, shooting again, the ball easily going in.

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“Wow, someone had a bad day yesterday” I say the next day, finally checking my notifications.

“Mason fan?”

“That’s what she says. Stay away from him, you filthy gunner bitch. Go suck Arteta’s ****. And yes, whoever this was, censored that last word.”

“No way” Leah laughs. “But why him? He isn’t your coach or anything.”

“Who knows. Maybe he is the only one from Arsenal this person knew” I shrug. “But whoever this is, just got blocked.”

“Good. Is anyone shipping you with Mason?”

“You are so funny” I say, throwing a pillow to her face as someone knocks on the door.

“I’ll answer” Leah says, throwing the pillow back at me.

“Hello girls” says Hannah, our team’s social media manager. “I’m afraid there’s been a change of plans and you won’t be having a free morning. There is some content that we didn’t have time to finish yesterday and that must be shot today. I’ll meet you downstairs in 5 minutes.”

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“Leah, you’ll be doing a TikTok challenge with some others over there” Hannah says, pointing to a table set at the other side of the pitch. “And you will be filming a game for YouTube with Mason.”

“With Mason?” Leah and I say at the same time, she definitely more excited than me.

“Is there any problem with it?” Hannah asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all” Leah says with a big smile.

“What’s the game about?” I ask Hannah as I follow her to where Mason is already waiting.

“Remember the one Chilly and Declan did, the one about the food?”

“How could I. That winner was an insult to everyone who loves food” I laugh. And it isn’t as if I’ve watched it way too many times because Ben looked stupidly handsome. Declan too, not gonna lie.

“This one is about Marvel characters, trying to pick the best super hero” Hannah explains.

“That sounds fun.”

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“I can’t believe Wanda didn’t make it to the final” I say to Mason once we’ve finished the game. “She definitely was the most powerful one! And you chose Thor!”

“Because he is a God!”

“Wanda was able to destroy one of the infinity stones!”

“And then she went nuts. I wouldn’t put my life in her hands.”

“Ok, that’s rude. She was grieving”.

“Sorry” he shrugs. “But at least we agree on the winner.”

“Kind of” I say. “I still think it’s a tie between Spiderman and Captain America.”

“But if it was the end of the world, what could Captain America do for you? Spiderman could fly you away, take you somewhere safe. And he is as strong as Steve.”

“I know, I know. But only if there are trees or buildings around. In the desert they both would be equal.”

“Fine” Mason says, rolling his eyes. “You are a stubborn one, aren’t you?”

“She’s very stubborn” Aaron says, showing up out of nowhere.

“Where did you come from?” I say. “You scared me!”

“I was filming over there. If you didn’t see me, it was because you were too busy with Mason” he smiles. I give him my most murderous look in return, but his smile just goes wider.

“Anyway, I better go find Leah” I say, looking for an excuse to escape from them.

“Are we still playing basketball later today?” Mason asks as I leave.

“Yeah, sure” I say.

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When Leah and I go downstairs, Mason and Declan are already waiting. Them, and Aaron and Ben.

“What are you two doing here?” I ask them.

“We wanted to be part of the fun” Aaron says.

“Meaning that he wanted to see Mase and I being destroyed by you” Declan says.

“That too” Aaron replies with one of his smiles.

“So you are not playing?” Leah asks. “Cowards.”

“We play together all the time. Let them be the ones to suffer” Ben says, not lifting his eyes from his phone.

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“C’mon Mase, you can do it!” Reece says, cheering for his teammate. A little crowd has formed around us, most of them cheering for Leah and I and making fun of Mason and Declan. Eddie is taking photos while someone else is filming, already planning to upload this to YouTube.

“That was so bad, Declan!” Coady yells, he and Mings laughing like crazy.

“If this one goes in, we win” I say, looking at Mason.

“First you’ll have to get pass me” he smirks, already in position to defend.

“There she goes!” Aaron yells as I attack.

“And it goes in!” Leah screams behind me. Everyone around us starts cheering, while Declan dramatically falls to the floor, Mason standing with his arms on his hips.

“Sorry” I say, giving him my best smile. He just shakes his head while licking his lips, and I find myself staring until someone comes to congratulate me and bring me back to reality.

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The rest of the days with the national team go by quickly. It’s mostly training, playing the friendly games and enjoying our free time. Turns out that mixing both teams has been a great idea.

“My tagged photos on Instagram are all Mason” I say to Leah on the car back home.

“He isn’t that bad, is he?”

“He isn’t, he is really nice. You and Aaron were right about that. But look, it’s like I am on his account, not mine” I say, showing her my phone.

“That happens when you spend all your free time with him and Eddie is around” she says with a big smile.

“We are just friends” I say, rolling my eyes.

“For now.”

[writing-wh0re]

I do

All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests. 

George Weasley x Female Reader

Words: 1,856. 

Warnings: Smut18+, Male Performing Oral, Unprotected Vaginal Intercourse, Fingering, Handjob, Dom!George, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk. Fluff.  All the good stuff really. 

A/n: This is for @buckystrenchcoat smut plot prompts - 6.George fucking you roughly in your wedding dress. - I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it! 

The day was finally here. 

In two hours, I would officially be Y/n Weasley. It wouldn’t just be a fake name scribbled in the back of my potions textbook, it would legally be my name. 

Throughout the morning my stomach was unsettled, butterflies fluttering around, my breathing uneven and my mind focused on one thing. 

George. 

Last night was the first night in almost three years that we hadn’t spent together. It was a little odd and I didn’t sleep much, but perhaps that was the nerves more than an absent George. 

I look over my reflection in the mirror, hair prefect, exactly how I had pictured it. 

Make up - flawless and my dress hugged all the right places with enough swish in the skirt to feel free while dancing.

“Y/n, is there anything we can get you?” My mother asks, her sweet reassuring smile slightly calming my hammering heart. 

“Would it be awful of me to ask for half an hour to myself?” I look over at Ginny and Hermione, both of them with small smiles on their faces, my mother shaking her head. 

“Of course not dear, I suppose you might want this.” My mother turns to her bag, pulling out my dark red diary from high school. 

‘Y/n’s you will be hexed if read’ scratched into the front cover. 

“Mum, where did you find this?” I turn the book over in my hands, taking in the worn leather cover, splats of different nail polishes hardened against the back. 

“You left it behind when you moved out with George, guess you didn’t need it anymore.” My mother sniffles, holding a tissue to her eye as she smiles at me. “You aren’t a little girl anymore, I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become.” I sniffle in response to my mum, feeling tears prick my eyes as we both chuckle at each other before sharing an embrace. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you sweetheart.” My mum places both of her hands on my cheeks, smiling wide at me. “We must stop this at once, we don’t want to ruin your makeup.” I laugh at my mum’s change before nodding. 

“We will leave you be, call us if you need anything.” 

“Yeah, we will make sure that everything is set up correctly.” 

I smile at Ginny and Hermione, quickly embracing them and thanking them for being with me. 

Once the three of them leave, the room is quiet. 

Comforting. 

A sigh passes my lips as I sit down on the small couch, grabbing my diary and flipping through it. 

‘George Weasley asked me to be his girlfriend today. Me! How could I not say yes, I would be a fool not to. I can’t believe he liked me back, mum was right. She always is.’ 

‘Y/n and George Weasley - has a nice ring to it’ 

I scrunch my nose up, cringing at my past self. A smile creeping across my lips. 

Before I can continue through the pages, the door abruptly opens. I gasp at the intruder, watching as George swiftly locks the door behind him. 

“Wow.” George’s eyes rack down my body, drinking in my appearance as I look over him. 

His white button up tailored to his body, black suspenders hugging his shoulders and perfectly ironed dress pants. 

“Wow yourself, but George, you can’t be in here.” 

I meet him in the middle of the room, his hands instinctively falling to my waist, my fingers looping under his suspenders. 

“Why’s that? This is my soon to be wife’s room right? or am I mistaken?” George smirks at me as I roll my eyes, shaking my head. 

“It’s not the tradition we agreed on.” 

“Maybe we can break tradition.” His whispered words cause goosebumps to fill my skin, I know George and I know what he’s wanting. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want it to.

“You look stunning baby.” His lips fall to my neck, placing delicate kisses to my warm skin. 

“Feel what you’re doing to me.” George grabs my hand, placing it against his clothed cock that’s now straining against the fabric of his pants. A soft whimper escapes my lips, feeling his cocky smirk against my skin. He knows the power he holds over me.

I quickly fumble with his belt, attempting to free his cock before he stops me. His hand under my chin, our eyes locking together. I stand on my tippy toes, closing the gap between us, our lips smashing against each other. Hunger and need is evident between us. His hands grip my boobs, kissing down my jaw and sucking on my exposed cleavage. 

“You’re leaving this on.” His finger trails over the fabric covering my breasts. “I want you to walk down the aisle with my cum dripping down your thighs.” My breath hitches at his words, his eyes dark with lust, a mischievous smirk on his face. 

I pull him against me using his suspenders, his lips crashing against mine as our tongues fight for dominance. George’s hands fall behind my thighs, picking me up and placing me on the make up desk. We fumble around each other, my hands working on his pants, his falling under the fabric of my dress. 

“No panties?” George asks, his eyebrows knitted together. 

“It was the easiest option.” George smirks at me, lightly slapping my now exposed pussy causing a hiss to fall from my lips. 

“My wife, a hungry little cock whore.” I blush at his words, shaking my head. 

“Not your wife yet.” 

“But still my cock whore.” 

I nod in response, palming George through his boxer briefs earning a soft moan to fall from his lips, adding fuel to the fire inside of me. I pump his dick, marveling at the sight before me, his head throwing back slightly, eyes closed, lips parted and a chorus of soft grunts and moans filling the air. 

My body jolts when he slides his finger inside of me, my pussy instantly clenching around him.

“Mmm, she knows who she belongs to.” 

I bite my lip, trying to muffle the moans that escape me. George added a second finger to my dripping core, curling them inside of me, stroking all the right places. George falls to his knees, his lips attaching to my clit as I gasp for air, shocked at the sudden change.

Not complaining in the slightest. 

I tug at his hair, his moan vibrating my sensitive skin, the sound of his tongue lapping at my wetness causing a shiver to run up my spine. His fingers continue to work in and out of me, their pace changing from fast to slow with every fourth stroke. George’s lips suck on my clit, before swirling around the nub. My head falls back against the mirror, my hips grinding against his fingers and tongue. His hand falls to my waist, holding me down against the desk as he devours me, his tongue lapping at my core slowly, while his fingers pump hard and fast inside of me. 

“George, fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

My legs shake around him, his lips sucking my clit as I cum around his fingers. Spots appear on my vision, my breathing uneasy and my skin flushed. George pulls his fingers from my tight hole, a whimper escapes me at the feeling of being empty. 

“Perfect.” My eyes roll back as George takes his fingers between his lips, sucking them clean. 

“Fuck me George, please.” 

“Oh, anything for you baby.” I reach out for him, a dark chuckle rumbling through his chest. 

“Ass up.” 

I quickly scramble to my feet, laying my chest against the desk, his warm hands rubbing the supple skin of my ass. 

George’s fingers slip into my hair, pulling me up slightly, our eyes meeting in the reflection. 

“Watch me fuck you.” 

My mouth falls open at his request, nodding in response before we both moan loud. His cock sliding deep inside me with practiced ease. 

“Fuck, so tight for me.” 

“Only you.” 

George winks at me, kissing up my exposed shoulder, biting on my earlobe. 

“Good girl.” His hips thrust deep inside of me, my pleasured cry filling the air. His hips snap into mine, my eyes rolling back at the feeling of him inside of me, hitting all the right places. 

Sounds of my wetness fill the air, George’s hand spanking my ass as I hiss. 

“Eyes open.” 

I shoot my eyes open, locking with his in the mirror. George smirks at me, looking down at where our bodies meet, hissing at the sight before him. 

“You might not be able to walk down the aisle.” 

I groan in response, pushing back against his thrust, attempting for him to go deeper. 

George picks up his pace, his hands gripping my ass, spanking the skin every so often. 

I watch George in the mirror, his face twisting with pleasure, his cheeks filling with colour, his mouth slightly agape, biting his lip every so often to muffle his moans. The sight of him lost in pleasure causes the band to tighten inside of me, which he notices. 

“Hold it baby, I’m close, just a little more.” 

I place my hands against the mirror for balance, his pace having picked up as he chases his high. 

“Please let me cum.” I beg, feeling the warm tears prick my eyes, my body glistening with a sheen of sweat under the lights. 

“Right there, fuck, cum baby.” 

The coil inside of me breaks. My pussy sucking George in as I cum around his cock. 

The warmth of his release shooting through me. 

Our eyes lock one last time in the mirror, a proud smile on his lips, a love drunk one on mine. 

“I love you.” George whispers, pulling his now softening cock out of me. 

“I love you.” 

We quickly fix our appearances. I look over myself in the mirror, touching up my eye make up and drying the tears, thankful that I can blame it on my mum’s moment before all of this if needed. 

George’s eyes trail up and down my body, shaking his head. I tilt mine in response, trying to understand what could be wrong with my appearance. 

“I just can’t believe this day is here, you’re going to be a Weasley.” 

My heart swells at George’s words, goosebumps filling my skin. 

“I’m going to be a Weasley.” I confirm. 

George beams at me, quickly placing a kiss to my lips and walking to the door. 

“Don’t let our mum’s know I was in here, they would kill me.” George chuckles as he opens the door, only to be met by Molly and my mum. 

“Shit.” We say in unison, both of our mother’s rolling their eyes. 

“One day, not even a day, a few hours.” Molly tuts, looking over at my mum. 

“What are we going to do with you two.” 

George smiles at me, before squeezing past the mothers and dashing away from the scene. 

“Ready love?”

I take a deep breath, looking down at my engagement ring, the diamonds sparkling in the light. 

“Definitely.”

// 

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[heyidkyay]

I guess I'll take this pain, instead of your name

Part Seven

A/n: Might've cried a lil writing this part:/ But I hope you enjoy it all the same x

Summary: In life, things changed. The boys you'd once grown up with were men now, and famous ones at that. The type that toured the world and had millions of adoring fans.

The five of you shared a shit ton of history. But you also shared a lot of mixed emotions for one of them in particular, a certain drummer.

Warnings: Talks of a struggling relationship with a parent, (doesn't go into detail but alludes slightly to other things, so take that as you will), and the mention of previous deaths of relatives (again, there's not much detail)

Masterlist

--

“Mum?” I croaked out.

…

The woman in which had birthed me and given me my name was stood in the very same cafe, ignorant to my presence. 

There was no denying it was her. Her hair was still the same shade it’d always been, only now it was cut into a sleek sort of bob that better suited her face. She was thinner now too, I supposed. Her figure only accentuated by the fitted silk shirt she had tucked into a pair of dark jeans.

I scanned over every detail she had to offer me, or rather the world, but came to an abrupt pause when I saw a sudden similarity between us. It was a simple one really, but I saw then it in the way she was laughing away heartily at whoever she was on the phone to, her smile so wide and unapologetic. It was very same smile I'd caught myself wearing in pictures with friends, or when I rewatched old videos of us at gigs.

The realisation made my stomach turn, as though everything inside of me was slowly being vacuumed up into the big black hole that had suddenly replaced it.

I was snapped back to reality rather quickly when George’s head whipped around to see what I was freaking out over. His wide eyes darting between both myself and the woman who was stood waiting in line for her order, his jaw dropped. He looked just as unsure on what to do here as I was.

Because, well, what were you supposed to do when the parent you hadn’t seen since leaving home was stood right in front of you? It was a headfuck, a complete and utter headfuck. That had me ripping at the very seams.

George must’ve seen it on my face too because he reached across the table then to take my trembling hand in his, forcing me to divert my attention. My eyes found his. 

“Birdie…”

His low whisper paired with that godforsaken nickname wasn’t even enough to distract me from the way I was beginning to spiral. Suddenly, I felt so out of it. As though I was floating out of my body, or on another plane all together. 

I took a deep breath then shook my head at him, hoping to somehow clear my mind. 

“I know, it’s fine- I’m fine. I’m okay. Really.” But I didn’t know who I was trying to reassure here, him or me. “She just, brings something out in me. I didn’t expect to see her here is all.”

“No shit,” George mumbled distractedly with another long glance over his right shoulder. When he looked back at me, he hunched further across the table to keep his voice low. "You gonna say something?"

I blinked, but the thing that shocked me wasn't his question, it was the real anger I saw then in his eyes. It wasn’t a typical emotion for George.

“Sorry.” I apologised for the interruption, then attempted to steer us back on track. This wasn’t about her. This was me trying to fix things with George. Us trying to salvage the friendship we’d had long before we’d ever messed things up between us by getting together. “Where were we again?”

“Don’t. Don’t do that. Not with me.” George interrupted, his grip on my hand tightening by a fraction. “You don’t have to pretend. I know what it was like. What you went through with her, how bad things got. I was there. You don’t have to build back up all those walls you tried so hard to knock down around me.”

I felt my eyelids fall shut when that familiar burning sensation begun to tingle the tip of my nose and started to sting just behind my eyes. My throat was slowly closing and the hairs that ran down my arms stood on end.

It was hard to hear, especially when I’d worked so hard to come to terms with the distance that our breakup had wedged between us. But ultimately, that was only because I knew he was right. He knew better than anyone what I’d gone through. Seen more than I’d care to admit I’d wanted him to.

“I just can’t do this. I-" I choked out, the tremble in my hands seemed to invade the rest of my body now. Everything appeared to be working against me.

George was still there though when I reopened my eyes, and I had a vague guess as to how red and watery they must’ve looked as I stared back at him hopelessly.

“Take a second, yeah?” He murmured to me, his thumb gently skimming over the back of the hand he still had yet to let go of. 

The action seemed to soften things somehow, gave me a feeling to ground myself to. I swallowed down the tension I'd felt balling in the back of my throat, letting it sit heavily now in my chest.

I couldn’t bring myself to look back at her though, at the hazy stranger I just about recognised.

Not yet.

“When was the last time you spoke to her?” George questioned me quietly and I couldn't silence the humourless chuckle I let go of, playing with the fraying tear in the booth’s tablecloth that someone must have caught their zip on. 

“Other than that birthday card? My nana’s funeral.”

George’s brow pinched further. “That was almost a year ago now though. I remember it. You two hardly said more than six words to one another.”

I shrugged, feeling small. “Well…”

With a sigh that was more of a scoff, George shook his head and worked his jaw. “Who’d you spend Christmas with then?”

I mustered up a sad smile. “Matty’s family took me in. With both my grandparents gone now, and well, us being…”

George dipped his chin curtly, eyes darting away for the briefest of seconds just as the vein in his neck ticked. I tried not to react to it.

“I didn’t have many people offering to put me up.” I told him honestly as I glanced towards the counter, shrugging a shoulder again. The rip in the tablecloth had grown now too.

“I-” George begun but faltered as he inhaled, sucking in far too sharply for it to go unnoticed. But then he shook his head as though irritated and his brown eyes found mine again shortly after. “Do you want to say something now? To her, I mean.”

I felt myself frown as I thought it over. Did I? It was a chance to face her again, to talk things over, maybe get some answers now that I was older and not so sheltered. But, then again…

My gaze flickered up to see her still stood there waiting. She was by the counter this time, leaning in and flashing a smile at the worker whilst she accepted the drink she’d ordered. I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

George seemed to have followed my line of sight too and he turned back towards me a bit too quickly to get my reply. “Well? This is your last chance.”

And I watched on as she called out her hasty thanks, still prattling away on the phone whilst she started to make her leave. The only thought that crossed my mind though was whether or not it was the same number I’d tried calling her on a few weeks prior. Or in the months before that. I opened my mouth to say something, but I just couldn’t do it. Unsure if I even wanted to.

She was gone then. A whirl of hair and sweet laughter as the wind swept her back up, closing the door firmly shut behind her.

It felt like a strange metaphor for my life.

I slumped.

The cafe seemed to grow nosier after that and I wondered when everything had started to dial back for me. George was still there though, studying me closely like he always used to do. Only, it was for an entirely different reason this time around.

“Maybe it’s for the best.” He said, looking at me almost like he could sense every thought I was thinking, every feeling I felt. I dropped my eyes so that I could paste on a semi-convincing smile.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You can let it out, you know. If you need.” George mentioned, and he chewed on the edge of his bottom lip for a blink before shrugging lightly, on anyone else the gesture might’ve appeared abashed but whilst George was many things, he was far from that. Not with me at least. “Dunno. Just used to help.”

And it had. Whenever things would happen, when a memory would resurface, or I'd just be having one of those days… I’d close up and hide away from everything. It was only whenever George prompted it out of me, or decided to my mind off of things, did I see the bigger picture again.

In the time we’d been apart, those days had grown a little more frequent. Longer too. Because I hadn’t had that around to distance me from the thoughts. There was no light to keep the shadows at bay.

“I don’t know. It’s just weird, ain’t it?” I swallowed thickly and had to force my gaze outside, focusing on all the chips in the pavement and the birds that were now scouting around the decking. “Of all the people. All the places! And when I’m here with you too, trying to muddle through all our shit. Just feels like someone’s gone a dropped a massive bomb on my life.”

I waited a while for George to say something, to maybe pull his hand away or draw me in closer. But he just gave me that moment. And I didn’t know whether to be grateful or not for it, especially when it only seemed to spur me on.

“She was supposed to be all these things. A role model. Someone I could turn to. Look up to. A person I could always count on to be on my side. But she was barely ever there. Not when it counted.”

I could feel every hurt I'd ever felt in the breath I took then.

“She was meant to protect me. Keep me safe. But after dad- she just let anyone walk in and out of our lives. She was just a doorstop to them, a warm bed, and I had to face the brunt of it all. The leers and the looks.”

I scoffed, blinking away all the emotions of that sad little girl.

“You’d have thought that after his death, she’d might've wanted to keep me close. Make sure nothing bad happened to me too. But she just shut me out. Sent me away- to my nana’s, and my aunt’s.” 

My next whisper was sharp and it stung, it tainted the air around me. 

“She couldn’t even bare to look at me, G.”

George was there. Sliding into the booth beside me. He wrapped an arm around my waist and shielded me in his side, blocking anyone else who might have looked over then from watching me fall apart. I focused on my breathing, in and out. Out then in. The fog seemed to lift slightly as I continued, and George must’ve sensed it because he let up a little.

“Sorry," I sniffed, "If I’d've known that today would end up like this I would’ve spared you the lost time.” I made a chuckling sound that was mostly belittling and rolled my eyes at myself.

“Oi, don’t say that. She’s the one who fucked up. She’s the only one who should be apologising. Alright?”

I nodded slightly, because I couldn't not, and took the tissues he handed me, ruffling them between my fingertips. 

“It just hurts, I 'spose. ‘Cause somewhere deep down inside, I’ve always sort of felt like I was disposable.” 

That confession felt like too much even in the moment and so I turned away from him, sniffing as I blinked back the welling tears again. Only, one slipped free, but I was quick to swipe it away, chuckling sadly at myself.

“God, bet you regret asking me out now.”

George was sure in the shake of his head. Face solemn. “Never. Just thankful to be here.”

I snorted softly in turn, not believing him for a second. 

“It’s the truth.” He shrugged, gifting me one of his small lopsided smiles.

I used the tissues then to wipe at my nose and caught him staring as I did. I tried to smile back. “Alright if I go clean myself up? Feel like I’ve been hit by a lorry or summat.”

George and I shared a small chuckle between us and he nodded as he stood from his seat, allowing me to slide past.

“I’ll just be a minute.” I assured him, but it was useless as he only rolled his eyes at me. Waving me off.

—

By the time I’d sorted myself out and fixed my makeup as best as I could, George was nowhere to be found.

My heart lurched as I walked back over to where we'd just been seated, eyes scanning the length of the shop whilst a million stupid thoughts ran through my head at a million miles an hour, only to be silenced by the very sight of him waiting outside for me by the curb. Obviously having gone out for a cigarette whilst he waited.

I calmed my racing heart. He hadn’t just upped and left. 

As I made my exit and thanked the gent who held the door open for me, its bell jingled, grabbing George’s attention from where he’d been toeing the outline of a drain. His lips curved up into a smile as I made my way over.

“Alright?” He nodded and I copied the action, releasing some of that remaining tension I’d just been working on shredding off in the girls loo’s.

“Can I?” I requested, titling my chin over towards the fag he held. His eyes dropped down to it too and he took a small drag before willingly giving it up. I hummed my appreciation, inhaling deeply.

“Feeling any better?” He quizzed, squinted stare unmoving from me as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat.

“Air helps.” I replied, then tried for a joke, wanting to lighten the weighted atmosphere I’d created. “But hey, they say bad things come in three’s, so I won’t be too surprised if I end up under a bus on the walk home.”

“Don’t say shit like that.” George grimaced, and shook his head as he looked away from me, seemingly paler at the very thought. I glanced away too, feeling a bit stupid. 

A long silence fell between us then and I used it to finish off the cigarette he’d lit. Already itching for another. But I wouldn’t. At least not yet. Not until I’d made it home and started running a bath. Waiting for that second where I could just hide away from the rest of the world again. An avoidance method I often frequented, which was appearing more and more enticing after everything that had happened over the last two days.

Still, I couldn’t leave things like this with George. I didn’t want to, try as I might. He’d been such a big part of my life growing up and today showed me that that fact hadn’t changed, even though our relationship had. 

Whatever had happened between us in the lead up to our breakup, and the period after it, could be sorted out if we tried hard enough. I didn’t want to lose him, I couldn’t. And if things panned out the way I hoped for them too, then I’d have to get used to dealing with a lot more than just patching things up between us, like him eventually falling in love with somebody else.

Just the idea of it had me rolling, nausea creeping its way up my spine making my head spin.

I moved to stub out the butt on a nearby brick wall, tossing it into the plant box sat outside the cafe. George had calmed somewhat and was gazing over, watching me as I walked back towards him.

I rubbed at the tip of my nose, eyes lingering on my feet a moment too long. He cleared his throat.

“I um, Ross and I were gonna meet up down the local in a bit for a drink, if you wanted to join.” He mentioned, scratching the back of his head. “Only if you fancy it though. Figure we could just put this on pause for a bit. Let you get your head sorted first.”

I blinked, a little surprised. By the offer or his sincerity, I wasn’t quite sure. But I found myself nodding slowly anyhow, shocking myself even further. The hot, relaxing bath I’d been dreaming about vanishing in a blink.

“Uh yeah, yeah that sounds nice, I think.” I replied, caught off guard. But I inhaled and got over myself enough to give him a sly smile. “Did MacDonald plan it this way, believing that our meet would end in shit?”

George snorted at the insinuation, smirking over at me from where he stood rocking back and forth on the paved path. “Maybe, but when’s he ever been this prepared for anything?”

I gave a light laugh, unable to help myself. Because wasn't that the truth.

“So we’re encouraging this sort of behaviour now?”

“Why not? He’s growing up.” George grinned and I felt my feet moving before my brain could catch up.

“Alright then. Lead the way, Daniels.”

Part eight>

[parchmentedpetrichor]

➳all the king's men ♡ ☾

in which all the king's men couldn't put the pieces of y/n l/n together. we all have the days where we're insecure and broken, this is one of hers.

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ±1.8k

tw: insecurity, bullying

please if you are having overly harmful thoughts about yourself, talk to a friend or a professional. you are perfect the way you are and don't let anyone tell you otherwise!

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

my masterlist:D

it's so sad that the best people tend to think the worst of themselves

all the king's men

y/n, for lack of a better description, was feeling like humpty dumpty. she had seen herself in the mirror last night, and felt positively traumatised. she had come back from a quidditch practice session, and the results were quite terrifying.

she didn't understand. quidditch made the guys more toned and even a few of her teammates had abs. what did it do to her? well, it made her shoulders broad, which she thought was highly unattractive to anyone, and not at all slim! sure, it was fun and kept her fit, but terribly horrible, in her opinion, in trying to fit in to the beautiful girls that went to hogwarts.

she admired angie johnson and cho chang and ginny. she really did. y/n knew how hard it was to be beautiful, and she liked when other people were so beautifully beautiful. it just made her feel terrible, because what was the chance of her keeping her boyfriend in fred weasley when fiercely pretty girls were dancing elegantly around her?

there wasn't any time to be mopey and sad, so she gathered all her books and immediately went to breakfast. she didn't even bother going over to fred and greeting him. she saw how happy he was laughing with george and lee. surely she wouldn't bother him. instead she plopped down next to alicia.

"you ok?" alicia spinnet asked her.

she nodded, "fine."

"you sure?"

"no."

"wanna talk about it?"

"do you think it's too early to get plastic surgery?" y/n joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"what the fuck, no. what's up?" alicia's eyes were lit with concern.

"i don't feel pretty," her voice was but a whisper.

alicia caught it.

"why? you're literally adorable."

"you're my best friend, you're supposed to tell me that."

"hmm, nah, i truly believe it."

"well i don't," y/n said miserably.

"oi, l/n, your hair down today?" adrian pucey snarled, "it's gonna give me aids."

a few students snorted.

"you can get aids then. shut your mouth," y/n retorted back.

the whole school look startled. was this the same, prefect, goody-two-shoes y/n l/n?

adrian pucey opened his mouth.

"i said shut. your. mouth."

fred weasley watched in a mixture of furiousness and pride. he knew that pucey had a crush on y/n too. he was just terrible in expressing it. fred didn't like the way y/n's eyes sadly flitted to alicia afterwards. and she hadn't come up to him and given him a kiss today. maybe she just wanted a bit of space??

"see?" y/n sighed, "not even my hair is pretty." she tied it up.

alicia laughed, "adrian just wants your attention."

that made y/n laugh. "why? why?" it was a rhetorical question. she got up, and smiled at adrian in the most menacing way that he shrunk.

"miss l/n, your outburst was quite rude-" snape began.

"my apologies professor, of course, i was in the wrong. adrian pucey brought the topic surrounding my hair up, called it ugly. now what would you do if a student called your hair ugly?" y/n said, eyes burning with fury but conscience too good to lose her temper.

"i-i would give them a scolding."

"likewise. good day, professor."

"fucking hell, he is such a sh-" alicia muttered as she got up and followed y/n out to class.

"ali, that's enough," their retreating voices could be heard.

fred kept his eye on y/n through the day, giving her the space he thought she needed.

she looked very like her normal self, until she encountered pucey again.

"l/n, nice squinty eyes," pucey laughed.

y/n's shoulders sagged. her eyes dimmed and she let her ponytail fall in front of her face.

"ponytail won't fix them," he laughed meanly, "can they fix your dumpling body?"

fred frowned deeply, "fuck off, adrian," he angrily said, "that's my girlfriend you're talking to."

"oh, you have someone like weasley to save you? i don't even think you deserve him as a boyfriend."

y/n didn't answer, fearing that tears would spill out of her eyes. she had just been feeling worse and worse about herself. instead, when the bell signalled the end of classes, she hurried quickly off to wherever, trying to pull herself together.

she felt like she was at the bottom of the earth. her eyes finally let go of the tears that needed to be spilt. she leant sobbing against a stout tree in the forbidden forest, head slumped gloomily against the trunk, eyes trying to find anything, anything, that could be remotely comforting and hands fiddling nervously with the flowers that bloomed happily around her. her whole body shook in anxiety. she wished she had her mum or dad here to help her. but they were back at home.

how did fred love her?

she wished she didn't have stupid hair or squinty eyes or a dumpling body. but she couldn't ignore the mean, yet so true, remarks about her body adrian made. they were morally wrong and he deserved to be stabbed, but they were factual. she used to just laugh and joke about him too, but now she realised that maybe she should pay more attention to the way she eats and works and the way she talks and looks and presents herself and put more makeup on and-

fred found her crying there, by the little pond, shrinking away from the mere sight of her own appearance. he didn't get it.

well, he did, but he didn't know why such a beautiful girl like his girlfriend was crying.

"y/n?"

she flinched and stopped crying.

"sorry, i'll leave. i don't think you want a dumpling of a girlfriend sharing this nice space," she attempted to joke, but it fell short. she wasn't joking anymore. her tone was serious and genuine. the unexpected good nature pucey's remarks were received in usually was gone, and for good reason. it had broken her into the tiniest little pieces.

fred felt it. he felt his heart stop.

"is this about what pucey said to you, lovely?" he asked gently, cupping her cheek, and pulling her close to him.

she nodded, feeling immensely better already. the smell of him made her calm down insanely.

"so you don't want space?"

"n-no, i was just..." she trailed off uncertainly.

"mhm?" he looked at her and waited.

"it's silly."

"well, it's got you crying, i don't think so."

"the stuff a-adrian says is true," her voice was quiet and small.

fred frowned.

"i'm not cute or elegant or even hot," she continued, "i-i'm not as pretty as anyone here."

"well, my little love, if my opinion even matters, you are stunning. i think you're the prettiest person in the world, both on skin and in here," he patted his own heart, "do you know how long i pined after you?"

"no?"

"i'm still pining after you, gorgeous."

"d-do you mean it when you say gorgeous?" her eyes were broken and teary.

"of course. it hurts me when you are upset. because you are gorgeous and much more because you are so nice and good to me and to everyone else too. pucey's a complete shithead and when i next see him i will bash his head in. i'm so sorry i didn't notice, love, i thought you were mad at me."

"no it's fine, i just don't understand. you're fred weasley. so many girl's want you and you-you choose...me?," a sad frown was etched on her face, her tone confused.

"y/n, you're my only choice. i don't want the other girls. i can see the appeal of you. i-i know i'm not the best with words like you, but i really care about you. i love you, i adore you, you're the bestest person i've ever met."

and he knows he's brought the happiness back in her. she giggled. he felt relieved, because he knew he wasn't good at all at comforting people and y/n was so special to him- why didn't he say that earlier to her?

"bestest isn't a word, freddie."

"well you get what i mean, right? you're really special to me," there it was.

she nodded slowly, a small smile forming on her lips as she kissed him on the lips, before snuggling closer to him.

"darling, wouldn't you rather go back to the castle to cuddle?"

hesitantly, she shook her head.

"why?"

"'drian's there."

"adrian cannot hurt you, okay? whatever he tells you is wrong. he's wrong," he gently says, pulling her close to him, "besides, if he does, i'm here, and you're strong."

"i just cried about it, i can't be strong."

"crying doesn't mean you're weak, darling, sometimes we all cry and that's okay."

y/n nodded.

"here, i brought this for you, maybe it's a comfort??" he blushed as he handed her his quidditch hoodie.

she grinned and put it on.

he couldn't stop blushing at the sight of her, so he tilted his face away to save himself the embarrassment.

noticing and mistaking his turned away head for disgust, y/n took the hoodie off, downcastedly handing it back to him.

"sorry," she gave a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as fred looked at her in confusion.

"y-you can have it back, yeah, there's no need to hide your shame, here, s-sorry," she stuttered out.

"shame?" he asked, looking worriedly down at her.

"mhm," she fiddled with the hem of her shirt, "sorry."

he finally understood.

"angel, look at me."

she reluctantly looked up at him.

"i wasn't feeling disgusted at all. i-i was actually embarrassed because i was blushing," his cheeks heated up again, "like i probably am right now. you're too beautiful. i was blushing too much."

"oh."

"yeah. now put it back on," he demanded, as he cheekily tugged the jumper over her head, blushing again as he saw her standing there in his jumper.

"c'mon!" he said, carrying y/n's school bag as they made their way to the castle, his arm wrapped protectively around his waist and the bright gold letters on the back of his sweater shining for anyone and everyone to see.

they didn't see pucey, thank goodness and they ended up talking with george and katie bell and angie and alicia by the fire.

as y/n smiled and giggled with katie over something highly scandalous, fred had his eyes on her, not so much monitoring her, but he couldn't keep them off of her.

when he had noticed her words start to become short and slightly slurred by tiredness, he lead her back to her dormitory.

"feeling better princess?"

she nodded, "you're so good to me, freddie. i love you."

it made his heart swell with happiness.

"i'd go to the moon and back for you, y/n."

she smiled drowsily, "and i, you."

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Billy-bear || B.W.

pairing: big brother!Bill Weasley x little sister!reader

summary: A summer day in life of the Weasley brothers' little sister.

word count: 944

warnings: mention of food and eating

tags: @izzyyy-1 ; @amourtentiaa ; @dumb-bea ; @slytherclawbitch ; @famdomhideout ; @mollenniumfalcon ; @bamboozledflamplant ; @wooziuji ;

It was nearing 11 am and you’ve been awake for long at that time. Charlie was hiding out in the shade behind the garage, reading something new about dragons you couldn’t wait for him to tell you about. Percy has holed himself up in his room doing boring, Percy things. Fred and George had gone to the village and refused to take you with them, while Ron wouldn’t play with you after you’ve beaten him in chess the previous evening. Bill - was still in bed.

You ran up the stairs giddily, stopping in front of his door. The door creaked quietly as you opened it narrowly at first, to check whether he was still truly asleep. He was, with his long hair in disarray, in a mess of pillows and sheets.

You jumped up onto his bed, sitting on your legs, but he still didn’t seem to have woken up. “Billy, wake up..!” you whisper-yelled, shaking his arm gently, “it’s so late already! He inhaled deeply, waking up, making a smile appear on your face. “Is it, now?” he muttered and went to tickle you, but you jumped off the bed swiftly with a giggle. “Get up!” you urged him again, standing by the door. “I am, I am…” he replied, rubbing his face. “I’m giving you two minutes!” “Start counting then, meerkat,” he said, and you ran downstairs into the kitchen to wait for him, eager to spend some time with Billy-bear on a beautiful, summer day like that one.

You sat by the window, looking out at the pond. You saw Fred and George coming back and you knew they were up to something because Fred was looking around the yard and George, carrying a fully-filled backpack. You sat, unbothered because you knew that mum was cleaning up the bathroom upstairs.

You had forgotten about keeping track of Bill’s two minutes by the time he arrived in the kitchen, dressed. You turned around in your seat to face him because you liked watching Bill do magic - and he was about to, in the process of fixing himself some breakfast.

Mum hated the boys sleeping in, but for a while now she’d given up trying to drag them out of beds by herself or threatening them to do so. The policy was - get up before 10, to get breakfast - fail to do so, and make it for yourself.

“What will you be doing today, Billy?” you asked with curiosity, handing him an apple - which he, without acknowledging, sliced into bite-sized pieces for you with a flick of a wand, before you both sat down by the table.

“Dunno, meerkat. What do you wanna do?” Bill asked.

“Whatever you’ll be doing,” you replied, crushing an apple piece between your teeth. “Of course,” he said with a smile, before shooting a glare towards Fred and George, who were trying to sneak through the house and into their room.

And it seemed that they succeeded, because mum walked downstairs without yelling at them. “Oh, you’re finally up,” she said disapprovingly to Bill. “Good morning to you too, mum,” he said to her, and she tutted. “Had to,” he added, glancing at you.

Bill took you on a walk to the lake by the grove in Ottery St. Catchpole. You observed the fish, sitting on a rock above the water. You met the dog, that belonged to a man from the village, but would always seem to be out and about. On the way back, you convinced Bill to carry you on his shoulders.

You loved riding on his shoulders because Billy was the tallest man in the world. The view from up there was the best, and long before you reached the Burrow you could see Charlie struggling to find a new hiding spot that would stay in shade, as it was nearing noon.

The afternoon was nice - Bill fixed the swing that used to hang on the tree behind the house, then made you swing really high up. You played with your dolls and building blocks on his bedroom floor while he was reading his favourite comic books - which you found very boring.

It was after your bathtime, that you asked mummy if Bill could tell you a bedtime story instead of her - so you waited patiently in your bed, covered with a blanket.

You liked Billy’s bedtime stories, and you loved this one too - it was about a wizard adventurer, discovering an ancient lost city and fighting the monsters to get the treasure.

“And what’d he do with the gold?” you asked with fascination. “Bought himself a great, big house. And lots of sweets, I’d bet,” Bill replied, playfully pinching you on the side. “Are you going to buy yourself a house, too, now?” you asked, more seriously. “It’ll be a while before I can afford my own house, Y/N/N,” Bill said with a chuckle. “But I will buy you chocolate, I can promise you that,” he added.

“I don’t need chocolate,” you said, frowning a bit, and Bill’s face turned worried. “I don’t want you to move out.”

“C’mere, now,” Bill said to you and you sat up, being pulled into a bear-hug. “You know I love you, right?... I’m not going away forever- I’ll be staying over every once in a while! Besides, when you get older, before you know it, you’ll get sick of me-” “No I won’t!” you interrupted, as tears rolled down your little cheeks. “Okay, I hope you don’t,” he continued with a smile, “You’ll be okay, meerkat. The rest of the bunch will keep you busy and before you know, I’ll be visiting.” “Promise?” “Promise.”

[alecmac-writings]

This is The first chapter of a drarry fic that I'm writing. It has heavy Dumbledore and Molly bashing and severitus just so you know. It also features Desi!Harry. You can also find it (and the next few chapters) on AO3.

Bars on The Windows Ch.1

What if Harry was in slytherin? How would that change his second year? This is the story of a Slytherin Harry as he battles school and those who would get in his way. Most of the relationships will be ways away.

I groan as I sit up in my bed. Uncle Vernon certainly didn’t hold back this time, Hedwig lets out a concerned hoot from inside her padlocked cage. I can’t hold back the wince or sharp inhale when I get up and slowly make my way over.

“It’s alright girl, I’ll be fine.” I stroke her feathers through the cage. I see the untouched food in her tray. “You’ve got to eat, it does you no good to turn your beak up at it. That’s all we’re gonna be getting for awhile.” She gently nips my fingers and unhappily starts eating the soggy vegetables I had placed there earlier.

After everything that happened today with Dobby and the cake, I doubt Petunia or Vernon will be giving us anything any time soon. As quietly as I can I start to pry up a loose floorboard and pull out my sorry excuse for a first aid kit. I bandage everything I can reach and put everything back in its place.

A bright light fills the room from the window, I whirl around and see the smiling faces of the weasley twins. I pry open the window as they motion for me to back up as they start to attach a hook that’s connected to the flying car they’re driving. I quickly shake my head and motion for them to stop.

“Park the car down on the street and pick the front lock, it’ll be more trouble than it’s worth if my uncle wakes up. Plus all my school stuff is locked up downstairs.” They nod and start to lower the car down to the ground. I move around in a hurry trying to grab everything I can that’s at least in this room.

I turn as I hear the locks on the door start to click one by one. After the final click of the locks, the door swings silently open. I breakout into a grin as the two pull me into a tight hug. Fred turns to pick the lock on hedwig’s cage. George, still halfway hugging me, hands me my wand. I give him a silent thank you as I hear the telltale click of Fred’s success. Once free she quickly settles on my shoulder and nips affectionately at my ear.

“We already put everything of yours that we found in the cupboard in the boot of the car.” George whispers. I nod and follow them down the stairs and into the car. Once we’re in the air and on our way to the burrow a laugh escapes my lips. The twins look at me with grins tugging on their lips.

“What was up with that whole hook plan? You do realize that would have gotten us caught almost immediately. It was absolutely gryffindore, I’m disappointed.” They shake their heads as I say this.

“We’re disappointed in ourselves. We obviously have been hanging out with ron too much. His way of thinking has infected us.” I let out another laugh at their somber tones. They had a look of accomplishment in their eyes at getting me to laugh again.

“So, where are we headed?” They tense up and glance at each other. This made me slightly worried.

“Unfortunately the burrow. Ron saw us on our way out and he’s probably told mum by now. So unless we want a group of aurors on our tails, we have to.” I sigh and give them a nod. Ron has been a thorn in my side since I met him. First he tried to me into a friendship with him and ever since I turned him down heś been leading almost the whole of Gryffindore against me. There are only six who think Ron can stuff it and two of whom have graduated.

“Well I guess it can’t be helped, but you need keep him away from me. I can’t be held accountable if he makes me kill him in his sleep.” They laugh slightly and nod.

“Not that there would be anything that could tie you to the crime. Don’t forget that we know you. There would be no way you’d leave any evidence.” I let out a chuckle and lean back into the seat. They somehow got the idea that could rule the world and no one would be the wiser till it was too late.

“I promise to be fair when me and draco take over the world.”

“All we ask is that you remember who your allies were.” I laugh as george does a sort of bow from his position in the passenger seat.