#james phelps fic

[desideriumwriter]

Sleep Tight

Summary: Fred’s too bothered to not do anything when he finds you sleeping on the cold floor 

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader (no pronouns used!)

WC: 1.2k

CWs: None!

A/N: I think I’m going through my Harry Potter phase AGAIN. So take this little fic I randomly thought of, there’s definitely gonna be more otw lol. Enjoy! <3

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Fred would often lose track of time when he practiced his Quidditch skills, especially when it was winter or summer break and he didn’t have much to do.

Today he joined in playing a few rounds with Ron, Harry, and George after dinner. You and Hermione came out and watched for a little bit, Hermione deciding to go back inside when she got bored, you went inside a little bit after her, when the cold air became too harsh on your skin.

Eventually, Harry, Ron, and George were too tired to play anymore and went inside, Fred stayed outside, continuing to practice his moves.

You were sitting on the couch, watching some old black and white film on the television. You would occasionally look out the window to see Fred on his broomstick, focused on how hard and far he could hit the ball, or how quickly he could dodge something. ———— It was midnight, you were trying to fight away the sleepiness pulling down your eyelids. You gave in when your head began to nod down.

You went upstairs and opened the door that led you into the twins room, George was already dead asleep on his bed, his body in a star position, laying on his stomach with his face smushed into his pillow, and his mouth wide open. Letting out snores here and there.

You grabbed the pillow and blanket you brought with you out of your bag, you set the pillow down and draped your blanket over yourself. You shivered when your arm touched the chilly wooden floor. You should’ve brought a better blanket and chose something warmer to sleep in rather than a t-shirt and shorts.

Yet, somehow you were able to fall asleep with George’s snoring and the cold that was causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. ———— Fred decided he was done for the night when he realized it was nearly 2AM.

He went inside as quietly as possible. He cringed when the door squeaked open and when the wood creaked under his feet going up the stairs.

He entered his shared bedroom and sighed when he saw you sleeping in the middle of the floor with that thin blanket. He knew how uncomfortable sleeping on the floor was from the amount of times where he was supposed to share a bed with George, but ended up being forced to sleep on the floor.

He crept past you, grabbing a pair of pajama pants and a loose shirt, sneaking into the bathroom to change. After he came out, setting down his clothes in the laundry basket, he looked at you on the floor again, feeling bad if he let you sleep there.

Guilt would eat him alive if he didn’t get you somewhere more comfortable. He crouched down next to you, sleeping on your side.

“y/n…y/n…” Fred whispered, shaking your shoulder gently. You groaned, still asleep.

“y/n!” He said a little bit louder, shaking you a bit harder. Once again, you groaned, annoyed, moving your shoulder away. At this point he was getting frustrated, he flipped you over and clapped his hands together loudly in front of your face. George’s snoring was interrupted, he grimaced in his sleep, changed his position, and began snoring again.

Finally your eyes began to flutter open and you raised yourself up a tiny bit, resting your elbows on the floor.

“What?” You asked wearily, wiping the small but still embarrassing amount of drool on your face.

“Get in the bed.” He nodded to his bed, you thought you heard him wrong.

“Huh?” You looked at him, brows furrowed in confusion.

“You can sleep in my bed tonight. You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” He assured you.

“What? No, I'm not gonna steal your bed from you, I’ll be okay.”

“And I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor with that tiny bloody blanket sweetheart. You go sleep in my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.” He fully sat down next to you, waiting for you to get up and switch spots.

“No! I was able to fall asleep here with no problem, I can do it again. I’m fine.” “Your body won’t be in the morning.” You knew he was right, there’s been other times where you’ve slept over at a friend's house and slept on the hard floor or carpet, and woke up with your torso, or some part of your body aching. Yet, you would ignore it.

“Fine.” You sighed. Fred grinned as you got up, knowing he won this argument as you began to walk tiredly to his bed and climbing in.

Fred took your spot on the floor, laying his head on your pillow and pulling the blanket you had over himself. He let out a small chuckle at how he was too tall for it, due to his feet sticking out at the end of the blanket.

That was soon interrupted by it being pulled off him. He sat up to see you facing towards him, your blanket in your hand.

“Nope, come on.” You dropped the blanket and patted the empty space next to you on the bed.

“What?” He sat up.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor either.” You raised your head at him.

“You’ll be crowded with me sharing the bed!”

“I don’t care about how much space I’ll get, you deserve to be comfortable. Just get in the damn bed.” You turned back on your other side, facing the wall. Fred let out an annoyed groan.

“If you insist, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He slammed himself into the bed, causing you to bounce with the mattress.

“Arsehole.” You elbowed him in the side, Fred chuckled and you tried not to giggle.

“Shhh, you can beat me up in the morning, go to bed.” He whispered.

“Goodnight, arsehole.” You muttered, trying to force back more giggles.

“Sleep tight, y/n.” 

Within a few minutes you were knocked out. You flipped over, facing Fred, you dragged yourself closer, wrapped your arms around him and moved your head close to his chest.

Okay, maybe you weren’t fully asleep, but Fred thought you were. You pulled yourself closer to him knowingly. You had a tiny smile on your face, you tried to fight it, forcing it away so Fred couldn’t see.

That’s when you actually fell asleep, listening to his heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his chest.

Fred lifted his head up slowly to try and get a better look at you, he moved a few pieces of hair off your relaxed face. He wrapped his arm around your back gently, letting his head fall back onto the pillow.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face and the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen laying on his chest while holding him.

_____________

Tell me what you thought about this! Criticism is greatly accepted!

[underratedmurder]

There's a nice feeling to it (Fred Weasley x Reader fluff)

Hello again!

I'm back and also, I hope you like this, whoever you are, reading this right now, I'm typing this right now, and RIGHT NOW you're reading it. Crazy.

TW: Nothing at all! (#sfw)

Enjoy

_______________

Wind is sliding between the cracks in the window and pooling into your room, tickling your skin and making your feet cold. It smells sweet and ripe, crisp, like a freshly picked apple, or recently washed hair. The smells fill the room like an intoxicating candle, and you watch as leaves drift by outside, gliding down and glittering in the setting sun. The tangy smell of lemon is just penetrating your nose, making your mouth water a bit.

There's a light knock on the door, and you whisk your wand to unlock it, a tiny spark illuminating the keyhole.

The nob turns, and Fred Weasley, pokes his head through, red hair radiating as the sun hits.

"Locking the door again, are we? What are you so afraid of?" he prods, smiling and walking towards your bed by the window.

"You and George's jacklepoppers aren't bursting in here again," you smile back, scooching over as he climbs onto the covers next to you.

He had never done that before; you felt all tingly as the mattress dipped slightly to his weight.

"But I thought you loved them?" he whines, looking up at you as he tilts his head down, eyes all glittery.

You twist your mouth and shake your head disapprovingly. He huffs and laughs a bit, and you can feel the air on your face.

You look at him, quirking a brow. He came up here for a reason, and you would never admit that it was just to see you.

"Mum made lemon loaf,"

"I know,"

"It's good, though she never adds enough sugar, I think she's too afraid since George and I got dust mites in it last month,"

He's wearing a sweater with red, blue, and orange stripes, each detailed with intricate flowers and pretty designs. You aren't sure what the style is called, but you know it's pretty.

"Nice jumper," it felt good to compliment him, even if it was inadvertent and directed at his clothes.

He smirks, looking up and reaching you pinch your arm

"Ye?,"

"Mhm, your mum made it right?"

"Course she did, she reckons I should take up knitting myself soon. Not always gonna have her around to do it for me."

You shake your head, "There's a charm for that isn't there?"

"There's a charm for everything,"

"And I guess you already know it?"

"Of course I do, I'm a genius," he says smugly, holding onto his own arms.

The chill in the air was blowing harsher now, and you shivered.

"Are you cold?" he relaxes a bit and shifts forward.

"I'm fine, it feels nice,"

He pokes your arm, his fingertip warm like a match stick.

"You've got goosepimples everywhere," he mumbles, studying your skin.

He inches closer, and you open your mouth to say something, then stop as you feel his palm flatten on the side of your arm.

You become still, watching his fingers graze you to grasp your arm. His palm is like the sun.

He looks at you, waiting for you to let him, let him, let him what?

You didn't know, but you looked back at him. You said yes, relaxing your arm into his hand.

He sits there, feeling your skin, rubbing his thumb slowly up and down.

He silently reaches behind him, and grabs a soft blanket from your headboard.

"Come closer," he says softly, and you're not sure you hear him correctly.

You just stare at him, until you see he's spreading his legs a bit to make room for you. You can't believe it, and yet you prop yourself up to move towards him.

You come to face him, his face tilted away so your noses aren't literally right up against each other. His cheeks almost look a little red, but that's just because of the sun, you convince yourself.

You turn around, and sit in front of him, hesitant to lay back. He's never been this close to you, other than from a hug. And he's sat back on your bed, and you're in between his legs, and his hands feel soft, and everything happening all at once is making your whole face hot.

He brings his arms in front of you to place the blanket, you instantly feel cozy, the fuzz of the blanket on your arms tickles.

The sun is shining just above your head, and you imagine what his hair looks like, bright, and his eyes, kind and brown. You want to turn around and look at him, but you're frozen again.

Suddenly, his hands are on your shoulders, lightly pulling you down onto his chest.

Your heart skips a beat until, there, you feel it. It's his heartbeat, racing so quickly, you could swear he was a rabbit under attack. Now you're warm all over. The back of your neck itching a bit from the wool of his sweater. But there's a nice feeling to it.

Your heartbeat is picking up to the speed of his, and you feel an immense rush of adrenaline. He's tensing up, hands still, and he's nearly silent except for his shuddered exhales.

You've never seen him so careful, save for when he's pulling off some trick, silent as a mouse and careful on his feet despite being so large. He's deliberate, calculative, and still, excited, like he's trying to reach the ultimate finish line. And you wonder if he feels the same way now. You wonder if you can get him to breath like normal again, even though there is this guilty giddiness you have, feeling just how different he is in this position.

You lay back more, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder, even daring to move and adjust yourself to get comfortable. And just like that, it stops. His heart is slow, and his arms come to rest around you.

"This is..." you start.

"Bloody perfect? Yeah, I agree," he scoffs, he sounds perfectly content and also in utter disbelief.

Your face turns hot again, and you smile like an idiot.

[apparentlytheproblem]

s a f e a r m s

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- fred weasley

a/n: tysmm for requesting agaainn, im sorry this took some time, i wasnt sure how to lead with this but i hope you're happy with how this turned out :)

p.s i love you and this literally has me giggling and smiling

requested- yes

warnings- none i hope

fred weasley, the king with all his pride which no one could strip from him, all the cockiness no one could touch, the one so high from all, that no one would play against his will.

then why oh why was everything he had built for himself, his charm, his walls, his cool, all fumbling and crumbling beneath him when you arrived?

why did his heart flutter? or why did heat rise to his cheeks and why did he feel so weak to a pretty smile? you had every power over him and he despised you for it. he despised himself on how easily you could walk all over him and he'd say thank you. he couldn't fathom why he was so desperate for your attention even if it was for a mere second.

walking around the hallways in all his glory he'd immediately caught you making your way. it was peak rush hour, everyone was squirming their way from one class to another and his girl had seemed to have lost her footing

fred swept in catching her from having a meet with the floor. her arms were hugging him. freddie took a second for him to teach himself how to breathe again.

"the words are you're welcome" supplied fred when your mouth lied open, failing to form words. fred weasley had his arms swung around your waist having you pressed to his chest.

freddie didn't want to let go. he wanted to keep you pressed to him, his hands were everyone could see. he wanted to hold on forever.

"are you planning on letting go freddie darling?"

fuck. fred was officially pudding after he heard 'freddie' roll out of your mouth, he was fulfilled.

"so you can go and fall all over again? let them finish scavenging the halls or you'll become squash." how he managed to sound so confident and steady he didn't know?

maybe it had something to do with Rodger Holmes on the other side of the corridor, his face filled with jealousy. it gave freddie a kick. the girl he's been pinning for in freddie's arms, pressed against him whispering into each other's ears. Holmes did not need to know what as long as he could see she was in her weasley's arms. it helped him establish his dominance. you were to be his even if you didn't know it yet, even if you'd thought him to be the cruel cold hearted prankster, and Rodger dear better sit the hell back down.

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝FIREWHISKEY.❞

(not my gif)

summary: liquid courage - that's firewhiskey. a drink you and george can both overindulge in, sometimes, but it always seems to bring you closer together.

warnings: fluff central, alcohol (obviously), underage drinking, hangovers, mentions of vomiting, just a disclaimer, it’s been several years since i last picked up the harry potter series, you can probably guess the reason why, so i SINCERELY doubt everything will perfectly follow the timeline. my friend asked me to write something for the twins for her birthday and gave me her blessing to post, please know i’m trying my best lol. this is set loosely during the summer where the weasleys and friends attend the world cup. (google confused me on the twins’ ages so they’re seventeen, not sixteen.)

word count: 1k

tag list: @mizu-soup

a/n: happy birthday fred and george! psst...when i first posted the sneak peek of this fic, i said i had written SCENES for george, not just this singular one you'll (hopefully) read after the "read more" line. i'm planning to post these scenes as a little ficlet series eventually and develop george and reader's relationship more (firewhiskey is the main theme in all of them, as you can probably guess) but my life is a total dumpster fire at the moment, so who knows how fast that'll happen. please enjoy for now :) i love you

//////

Up on the highest floor of the Burrow, the window was a thin, uncurtained rectangle stretching up to the roof, and early in the morning, if, say, you’d gotten so drunk on Firewhiskey the night before you’d blacked out and subsequently forgotten to hoist Ginny’s old mattress up against the wall to cover it, the sunrise nearly blinded you and every other occupant of the room come 7 AM.

Not the most pleasant awakening one could have in the early morning.

“Merlin,” Fred moaned, wincing at the stream of sunlight and shoving his face into the pillow. “Ron, get the bloody mattress.”

“Why does it have to be me?” Ron cried, bounding up from the misshapen heap of blankets on the floor.

“You’re closest, you moron!” George snapped back. “Dunno about Fred, but my head’s pounding, Y/N woke up with her head in the bucket…”

“I’m awake, George,” you bit out from the opposite side of the room, absentmindedly grabbing onto the rim of the bucket in case you were to throw up again: your mouth tasted like something had died and rotted in your throat, and your voice sounded rough and gravelly from the dehydration. “Fuck, that’s the last time I’m drinking Firewhiskey…”

“You lot okay?” Harry whispered from opposite Ron on the floor. You didn’t think anything of it at the time, but he was clutching his forehead, gently rubbing his scar. Regardless of what it may have meant, you felt pity for him: you, Fred, and George might have just turned seventeen, and had drank Firewhiskey plenty before you’d legally been able to, but Harry was fourteen, much too young for a hangover. God, he’d only wanted a sip, why’d you let it go this far?

“We’re alive, I think,” Fred groaned as Ron got up to block the window; his voice was still muffled from his head in the pillow. “Mum will have everything in the pantry for a Rejuvenation Potion, right?”

“Reckon we can nick the cauldron from Percy’s room?” you put in tiredly, rolling over onto your back to stare at him.

George snorted and rolled his eyes. “Oh, no, Y/N, that’s gonna be impossible.”

You’d opened your mouth to hit him with a snarky remark of your own, but too late: in a blink of an eye, George had vanished.

Before you could even roll your eyes at how abruptly he disappeared— and how clever he obviously thought he was as you’d failed your Apparition Test three times in a row and still couldn’t legally do it — he’d Apparated back into the room with a small rusty cauldron in his hands.

“Percy’s in the kitchen,” he told the room, his grin as smug as ever. “Go down and distract him for me, will you? Look alive, you lot.”

The sunlight no longer a threat to his wellbeing, Fred rose from the squashed, broken mess of a couch, rubbing his eyes. “I’ll see what Mum’s making for breakfast.”

He Disapparated, but not fast enough for you not to spot his identical grin. You had to glare at the wall. They loved teasing you, and no matter how much you may have loved them, you’d never hear the end of it.

There was an awkward silence as everyone seemed unwilling to move.

“Ron, get out,” George said, looking over at the misshapen heap of blankets that bore a wincing Ron.

“Fuck you,” he shot back immediately, and George grinned.

“You better not let Mum hear that sass. Harry, I love you mate, I don’t want to sound like I’m kicking you out, but can you leave me and Y/N alone for a moment? Potion’s gonna take, like, fifteen minutes to brew.”

“No problem,” Harry groaned, reaching for his glasses as he climbed to his feet. “Ron, c’mon.”

Much slower than either of the twins, Ron got up, wobbled to the door with his best friend’s aid, and with the loud CREAK of the door opening, they were gone. George was already taking the ingredients he’d gathered out of the cauldron: you saw several packets of herbs, tiny vials of juices, and a large stirring spoon.

Working deftly, he pointed his wand at the pan underneath the cauldron. “Incendio.”

A fire ignited immediately.

“Do you think you’re gonna vomit again?” he asked you as he ripped a packet of herbs open and dumped them into the cauldron. His voice was so gentle you almost didn’t register he was talking to.

You probably weren’t going to, so you finally let go of the bucket. “I don’t think so.”

“Last time she’s drinking Firewhiskey, she says,” he mocked you, wiggling his shoulders sarcastically. “That’s what you say literally ever morning after, you know.”

Slightly above him on the only bed of the room, you pinned him with the most searing death glare you could manage.

George grinned at you - his real grin, completely free of sarcasm or smugness. “Hang in there, love.”

A small silence fell as you watched him.

“I think if you had any ounce of ambition, you’d be a Healer at St Mungos,” you told him absentmindedly.

“St Mungos!” he gasped, his eyes jumping up to yours as he uncorked a small vial of a mysterious reddish juice. “How dare you, Y/N! You want to set me up with Snape for a few more years?”

You laughed, even though it upset your stomach, which was already growling incessantly. “No, I - I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Jesus, I need some of Molly’s scrambled eggs.”

“Go on without me,” he told you, eyeing a measurement of an equally mysterious brown powder that your Muggleborn background likened to hot cocoa mix. “Tell Mum I’m sleeping and am not to be disturbed. And tell Ron if he rats us out about what happens last night, he’ll wish he was never born.”

“I don’t think he will,” you said tiredly, rising. “But I’ll tell them nonetheless. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he responded. “Stay alive for me.”

You smiled gently; your head was still pounding, and now that you were on your feet, your whole world was spinning. “I’ll try.”

[cassieb1617]

Taking a lover‘s pain💌

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Angst

Summary: Fred Weasley was a natural flirt, he flirted with girls, guys, strangers even teachers. Why was it a surprise to you though?

Warnings: unrequired feelings, insecurity, both Fred and reader feel bad at the end, no happy ending, language (swearing), mentions of bullying but it doesn‘t happen in this fic

A/N: this was so fun painful to write!

Popularity. A concept that was appealing to the ones related to it. Popular people had it sometimes easier than most, they didn‘t know what it felt like to be on the other end of bullying or what it feels like to be invisible. Gaining popularity was the easiest through making fun of others which doesn‘t necessarily means every popular person is a bully, no. There were popular people that were actually kind like Harry Potter. The kid is one of the nicest people ever even after all he‘s gone through. Fred Weasley, despite his poor background, was popular too. He wasn‘t a famous infant who killed the dark Lord but he and his twin brother George were popular in Hogwarts nonetheless. The two ginger-haired pranksters weren‘t buööies but there were more than a handful of people who would openly say they aren‘t saints with their pranks either and those people aren‘t only Slytherins or Filch.

You don‘t really know how you and Fred met or how you became friends but it didn‘t really matter anyway. Somehow you became friends with him and George, a friendship that also made you popular. It wasn‘t truly a benefit but it was nice to be seen in your eyes. On a scale, you would have to admit that Fred was definitely more popular than his brother, everyone would agree with that statement. George was open too but in his own way, the ginger was shy. Fred was also a really big flirt, unintentional to him. He was a natural flirt, a characteristic that drew you in too. 

He was charming in every way, a gentleman that was funny but still made respectful jokes. He defended the ones who couldn‘t stand up for themselves. In other words, despite his flaws, Fred was a dream. A dream that you couldn‘t help but fall for as well. You flirted back every time he started, it was like your friendship was that way. Secretly whispering, hands brushing against each other or his on your back, it was a normal occurrence. And it certainly wasn‘t a surprise that you fell for his charms completely. 

Your friends that weren‘t the twins warned you and maybe, in that moment you realized, you should have listened. They told you he flirted with everyone and that, as ruse and unapologetic as it sounds, you weren‘t that special just because he flirted with you too. In your eyes, he made a move and returned the feelings you so dearly held for him. 

It started out as it normally did, you were at a party that Gryffindor was throwing to celebrate that the exams were over. In his defense, it wasn‘t his fault and neither was it yours. You both drank firewhiskey which probably helped to stop you thinking straight. You were outside in the halls with him alone, just getting back from your mid-party-snack in the kitchens when you kissed him. He kissed back and for a moment, you thought that he returned your feelings but then you saw his confused expression. 

„What was that for?“ You couldn‘t tell if it was the alcohol or his question that made your head spin after that but it didn‘t matter anyway. „I mean not that I‘m complaining but I didn‘t expect it.“ He was still slightly smiling, like he had just won a stupid debate about something.

��I- you don‘t feel the same way?“ His face dropped and so did yours after seeing his reaction. „Feel the same- what do you mean?“ His hand reached out for you when he saw tears forming in your eyes but you scrambled back, „I mean your flirting. Didn‘t it mean something? Or were you just fucking with me the whole time.“ 

He looked taken aback by your words, „I didn‘t flirt with you-“, he hesitated for a short moment after seeing the look of disbelief on your face, „did I?“ A few tears slipped from your eyes as you laughed humorlessly at the situation, „Yes- yes you did, every time, all the time. I-I thought you felt the same, I thought you loved me too!“ 

Fred looked truly shocked at your words. It was true, he did flirt but he didn‘t do it intentionally. „Oh, fuck, I- I‘m sorry, I truly am but I don‘t, fuck, I don‘t love you that way. I‘m sorry.“ Fred felt his heart aching at your heartbroken expression but he didn‘t want to lie to you. „I didn‘t even realize I was flirting with you.“ The redhead had tears of his own in his eyes, ones that fell as you flinched back from his touch. 

„I- I can‘t, I‘m sorry-“ Fred tried to interrupt you but you held your hand up to stop him, „Is that so hard to imagine? Us to imagine as more than friends? Am I so bad?“ He shook his head at your words, „No, no you‘re not in any way bad it‘s just- you‘re too good for me, for anyone, really. I- I wish I could tell you what you want to hear but I can‘t.“ You shook your head at his words and backed up a little. 

„Can you. Can you tell them that I wasn‘t feeling well if anyone asked, please? I- I can‘t be here right now.“ Fred called your name as you turned and speed-walked away from him, careful not to run into Filch, his cat or a professor. 

Days went by without contact between you or anyone really. After the party ended you went into your dorm and stayed there without talking to anyone. Your dorm mate tried talking to you but you said you felt sick and she just brought you food and water. Fred too felt bad. He didn‘t see you for days and that was the first time that you went this long without any contact since becoming friends with each other. He didn‘t mean for all of this to happen, he didn‘t want to hurt you in any way but it also wasn‘t his fault. He wanted to take all the pain away from you if that meant he got to see you again. 

The redhead was so far into his head that he almost missed it when you sneaked by. He jumped up, bumping forcefully into you, „Hey, can we talk?“ Fred noticed the bags under your eyes and the ways your eyes didn‘t meet Fred‘s but you nodded nonetheless. Once alone he quickly talked to you before you could say something. „Look, I know that this is not- I didn‘t want this to happen, OK? I‘m sorry but I- I hope we can go back to the way we were, back to best friends, please?“ 

Fred was sweet but not even his words could fix the burdened cloud that‘s roaming around your friendship. „Fred, I- I want that too but I- I can‘t. When I look at you all I want to do is kiss you but I can‘t and I‘m not OK, I just, Christ Fred, I just need a break. I can‘t be friends with you right now without it breaking my heart, I‘m sorry I wish I could.“ 

You walked away from him after that, both of you not knowing when you‘re going to talk to each other again. The two people involved staring at the other when they‘re not looking, one that consists of a friendship‘s longing for another and the other out of a heartbreak‘s agony. Fred may be popular but that doesn‘t mean it‘s a shield against the one things thaht nobody‘s ever saved from: love. 

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Delayed

Pairing: Fred Weasley x F!Reader (First Person)

Length: 554 words

Warnings: No use of Y/N, no references to reader’s appearance, otherwise just fluff!

Summary: You and your Boyfriend are traveling on Christmas Eve to visit your family for the holiday. However, things do not go as planned.

A/N: The first part of my Fluffcember 2022 posting! Also, the first fic I’m publishing on Tumblr, so reviews/comments/likes are SO SO appreciated! Thanks!

“Attention Please, Flight 2346 from London to Chicago has been delayed. Please see the gate agent with any inquiries.”

I groaned and my head fell back, landing on Fred’s chest. “Is there anything else that could go wrong today?”

“Well,” Fred said, devilish smirk on his face, “I could point out that we could’ve taken a Portkey, or even the Floo Network—” 

“Not all the way to Chicago! Magic will only get you so far, Weasley, it’s time you learned that Muggles occasionally have good ideas,” I countered, feeling defensive and on edge. Nothing had gone right that morning, and this was a big trip for the two of us; he was coming with me to meet my family over Christmas. 

So far, it was not going well.

I had left my passport on the nightstand at my flat, which I hadn’t realized until halfway to Paddington. Then the train to Heathrow was absolutely packed — damn near standing room only and seemingly full of crying children. The lines for security were long and moved at a snail’s pace, but then past security it was the Kentucky Goddamn Derby, everyone trying to get everywhere at once. We found our gate and arrived there bruised and thoroughly jostled just in time to hear the announcement that the flight was delayed.

Throughout all of the annoyances Fred stayed positive, cracking jokes to help temper my increasing frustration and suggesting we get some food. I had forgotten to eat breakfast in my rush out the door that morning, which Fred intuited from my mood. He was considerate like that. 

“Apparently commercial flight isn’t one of them, love.” He squeezed his arms around me and planted a kiss on the top of my head. I smiled to myself. Living across an ocean from my parents and siblings had started to wear on me after two years, and I was anxious to get home. Fred knew this, but didn’t have a real frame of reference since his family was constantly gathering and intruding in each other’s lives. In that way, the Weasleys reminded me of my own family and had eagerly declared The Burrow my surrogate home. 

“That’s what we get for traveling on Christmas Eve, I guess,” I shrugged, defeated. “Remind me not to do this again next year. Or ever again.”

He leaned his head down next to mine so his soft lips brushed the shell of my ear. “You think we’ll be traveling together next year?” 

I turned in his arms so I was facing him and looked up into his warm brown eyes. Eyes that held perpetual mischief were now a mix of hope and adoration. 

“Why wouldn’t we be?” 

“Oh, I didn’t think we were all that serious.” His smile betrayed his joke.

I playfully smacked him in the chest. “Of course we’re serious! I think incurring the wrath of Molly Weasley to travel internationally over such an important holiday means ‘serious’ don’t you?” 

He planted a sweet lingering kiss on my lips and pulled me tighter against him. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t expose you to Molly’s wrath if I wasn’t so blastedly in love with you.” 

I kissed him back. “Good. Me too.”

“Attention Please, Flight 2346 from London to Chicago has been delayed. Please see the gate agent with any inquiries.”

[5sos-saucyy]

AHHH

John Wayne

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Christmas lights and stunning dresses are enough to spark a desire for a winter romance. But could you have possibly gotten the wrong idea?

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: fluff, angst

A/N: I might’ve listened too much to Cigarettes After Sex while writing and this is totally not a song inspired fic, born purely as a result of my procrastination with other projects

Tag list: @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @theweasleysredhair @harrysweasleys @loony-loopy-lupinn @whiz-bangs78 @slytherinsunrise @starlightweasley @ickle-ronniekins @gcdric @vivianweasley @aprilsrant @idont-knowrn @thisismynerdyself @wonderful-writer @feetoffthetablee @minty-malfoy @vogueweasley @elf-punk @oh-for-merlins-sake @heart-of-tempered-steel @spilled-prose @itseatyourdamnapples @aaannabbanana @l0ttadreamz @potter-redheads @pastanest | message me to be added/removed! (if you’re in bold, I couldn’t tag you)

You were staring at the crowded dance floor.

Beautiful ladies were being spun around by their partners, gorgeous gowns twirling and swooshing with their every elegant move. Everything was perfect about them; from their smile which lit up the Great hall more than the sparkling white Christmas trees, to the way their wrist gracefully twisted around their lover’s neck, eyes piercing into theirs. The music was playing, slow and melancholic, exactly as it had been playing for the last few hours, luring lovers and encouraging them to bare their souls in front of each other.

And so they danced, connected by fearful desire, united by hope and bonded by love.

Keep reading

[itsss4t4n]

Who I write for /Rules

Masterlist

I'm new-ish to writing (i used to write fanfiction when i was like 13. i'm 19 now and write very rarely) but I really wanna do it again.

So this is a list of characters/fandoms I write for as well as some rules for asks. Some things may be missing from this list so if you dont see something on this list, feel free to ask. :))

Do add as much detail as you want to a request and please ALWAYS have at least some sort of prompt, as i'm really not good with coming up with storys on my own yet.

I WILL NOT DO SMUT SO DONT REQUEST IT! I might however do spicy stuff (Nothing more than making out or somewhat implied stuff tho).

My writing will be mostly pg 13 but please still be careful if the fic-warnings include sensitive topics, and i might repost some 18+ things so be careful when navigating my blog.

Please be nice and have manners when requesting.

Also please include what gender/pronouns you want the reader to have (i write for all genders). If its not included I will default it as gender neutral. :)))

I also write poly relationships and AUs.

Some things I will not write include: Pregnancy, toxic/yandere, student x teacher, love triangles.

(Also english isnt my first language, and even though, in my opinion, i speak it really well, if they are any mistakes, thats why.)

Heartbreak high

Harper Mclean

Quinni Ghallager-Jones

Darren Rivers

Spencer "Spider" White

Anthony "Ant" Vaughn

Malakai Mitchel

Sally face

Sal Fisher

Travis Phelps (male or gn readers)

Larry Johnson

Ashley Campbell

Harry Potter

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Charly Weasley

Bill Weasley

Cedric Diggory

Olliver Wood

Draco Malfoy (+6th year only)

Theodore Nott (+6th year only)

Marauders

James Potter

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

Regulus Black

Evan Rosier

Barty Crouch jr

Pandora Rosier

Lilly Evans

Marlene Mckinnon

Hogwarts Legacy

Sebastian Sallow

Ominus Gaunt

Gareth Weasley

Poppy Sweetings

Imelda Reyes

Die drei fragezeichen / the three investigators

Bob Andrews

Peter Shaw

Justus Jonas

Skinny Norris

Twilight

Jasper Hale

Emmet Cullen

Carlisle Cullen

Esme Cullen

Rosalie Hale

Alice Cullen

Sam Uley

Paul Lahote

Charlie Swan

Leah Clearwater

Jacob Black

Pjo

Let me know if you want book or show

Percy Jackson

Annabeth Chase

Luke Castellan

Clarrisse La Rue

Selena Beauregard

Charles Beckendorf

Ethan Nakamura

Nico di Angelo (no romantic fem readers)

Rachel Elizabeth Dare

Will Solace

Travis Stoll

Connor Stoll

Hazel Levesque (no romantic)

Jason Grace

Leo Valdez

Piper Mclean

Magnus chase

Magnus Chase

Samirah al Abbas ( no romantic)

Alex Fierro

Blitzen

Hearthstone

Mallory Keen

TJ (Thomas Jefferson jr)

MCU (Avengers)

Bucky Barnes

Steve Rogers

Tony Stark

Sam Wilson

Natasha Romanoff

Yelena Belova

Peter Parker (tom holland and andrew garfield)

MJ

Wanda Maximof

Piedro Maximof

Clint Barton

Scott Lang

Stephen Strange

Kate Bishop

MCU ( Guardians of the galaxy)

Peter Quill

Daredevil (Season 1)

Matt Murdock

Karen Page

James Wesley

X-men universe

Deadpool

Wolverine

Francis

Xavier

Mystic

Angel

Kurt

Venom

Eddie Brock

DC

Harley Quinn

Jason Todd

Dick Grayson (any version, young justice, robin, nightwing,etc.)

Wally West (youngJustice)

Artemis (young justice)

Roy Harper (young justice)

Disney Descendants

Mal

Evie

Carlos devil

Jay

Benjamin Beast

Chad Charming

Audrey Rose

Jane

Lonnie Fa

Uma

Harry Hook

Gil

Rise of red

James Hook

Hades

Bridget

Ella

Cloe

Red

Morgie

Kingsmen

Eggsy

Tiny Pretty things (Netflix)

Bette Whitlaw

Oren Lennox

Shane Madej (no romantic fem readers)

June Park

Jennifers Body

Jennifer Check

Colin Gray

Ever after high

all characters

Redacted Audios

(no x reader, just ships)

literally all characters

[avalynlestrange]

The Owlery

Send an Owl Post

Please feel free to ask me a question or message me about anything or request a fanfic~~

I don’t bite and neither does my owl.

Requests/Recs(Open):

Requests and asks are always open~ unless specified.

It may take me a while to get to your request as they are sent via owls (and often the a creative block or life may cause delay)

I will add more to the characters I take requests for later on, but feel free to send that other character/song request anyway!

I do not take requests based on real people. e.g. I will write for Fred Weasley but not James Phelps.

Please try not to be super specific in your asks as I tend to write better with more freedom to interpret. You can specify what type of reader you want the fic directed at but default will be female. I don’t write male readers but I will do gender neutral.

I will write character x character fics if you ask. If you’re not specific I will assume you mean character x reader.

If I choose to write your request, I’ll reply to it publicly on my blog. If I decide to not write a request or if a request makes me feel uncomfortable enough that I know I won’t write it, I will either reply publicly, privately, or just delete it from my Ask.

If I did reply publicly, I will have sent your request to the kitchen and update how far along I am fairly regularly. Once the fic is finished I will tag you-unless you’re an anon- in the published fic (unless you instruct me not to).

I don’t write the imagines in a specific order. I write based on what inspires me the most, not by who requested first. I do this for fun so please be patient.

Please do not send me a request you’ve sent to or going to send another writer. Let me know in my messages or in the ask if have or plan to. I literally can’t bite. Nor would I. Just message me OFF anon saying “Lestrange please can I know how far along you are on my ask” or “Lestrange you’re taking too long to write my request and I am going to send it to another writer.” (Please read this post about why it’s impolite.)

If your request seems like too much of a repeat of something I’ve already written, I’ll direct you to that imagine instead of trying to rewrite it.

18+ I do not take smut requests on this blog. For spicy requests go to my secondary blog @evelynnelestrange

Currently I write for the following:

✿ Theodore Nott ✿  Fred Weasley ✿  George Weasley ✿  Draco Malfoy ✿  Mattheo Riddle ✿  Sebastian Sallow ✿  Ominis Gaunt ✿ Taylor Swift Songfics ✿ Sabrina Carpenter Songfics ✿ Olivia Rodrigo Songfics

✿ Maisie Peters Songfics

[curiositydidnotkillthiscat]

It’s James Eric Andrew Phelps, bitch!

[arrantsnowdrop]

Dementors - Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Takes place during Prisoner of Azkaban. Reader is in her fourth year (one below Fred/George) and has been having a rough year because of the Dementors. Fred steps in to help.

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and stress

Word Count: 4,500

A/N: I’ve had this fic idea for a few months now, and finally got around to writing it! Fred is genuinely the love of my life and I hope you enjoy reading! :)

The Hogwarts Library was your favorite place to study. It wasn’t necessarily because you enjoyed the silence more than anyone else, but rather stemmed from your inability to work when other people were around. The moment you broke off from your group of friends’ “study sessions” and started studying by yourself in the library, you fell in love with its quiet yet comforting ambience.

Studying alone didn’t necessarily mean you were lonely while studying. There was an unspoken sense of camaraderie between the regulars who frequented the library most nights of the week. Hermione, for example, had become your unofficial “study buddy” during your second year, with the two of you sharing a table or a couch to do your work on every time you were in the library together. Despite her being a year younger than you, she was one of your closest friends.

Even on nights like tonight, with buckets of rain falling down outside and the wind howling louder than a banshee, the library remained one of the coziest spots in the castle.

It was Saturday, one of the few nights Hermione didn’t come down to join you, and so you’d abandoned your normal desk near the windows in favor of a cushioned armchair near the fireplace (which Madam Pince only lit on nights like this).

You relished the warmth radiating from the fire in front of you, admiring the soft, flickering light it cast on the piece of parchment in your lap. You were taking a break from your half-finished potions essay, transfixed by the rain cascading down the tall library windows like a small waterfall.

You squinted as a dark figure floated into view, brows furrowing as you recognized it as one of the many dementors assigned to Hogwarts’ ground this year. You shuddered, quickly reverting your eyes to your essay.

How ironic, you thought, that you were writing about the Calming Drought when you hadn’t felt calm once all year.

You came from a muggle family, and while many creatures of the wizarding world were still unfamiliar to you, dementors were one aspect you wish had remained secret. They terrified you, to put it plainly.

You hadn’t slept soundly since the first day of the semester when one of them had just floated into the train compartment you were sharing with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. You’d almost passed out right then and there, and you weren’t even the person it was interested in.

You understood why they were there, but you still hated them. You could hardly go anywhere without seeing one hovering lifelessly through a window or lurking slowly over the Quidditch Pitch. As Hermione had said herself, you didn’t need to be near one for it to make you feel absolutely awful.

And while you didn’t like to think of yourself as an anxious person, the dementors’ presence this year had completely degraded your mental state. You were sleeping less, eating less, and trying to cope by putting all your effort into your schoolwork. At least when you were preoccupied with an essay or studying, you’d get a small distraction from the horrible creatures that permeated your everyday life.

“Oi, (Y/n)!”

You jumped about five feet in the air at the sudden noise, essay and quill falling unceremoniously to the floor. You groaned, twisting in your seat and eyes widening at the sight of Fred Weasley approaching you, a concerned look on his face.

“Sorry, love, didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized sincerely. You gulped, ignoring the term of endearment, and shook your head dismissively.

“It’s alright,” you replied with a wave of your hand. “Just caught me off guard is all.” You reached down to pick up the items you’d launched off your lap. When you sat back up, Fred was walking over with a chair he’d grabbed from a nearby desk. You gave him a small smile as he sat down next to you.

“I’m assuming you’d like help with something?” you teased knowingly. He grinned and nodded.

“Hermione said you were in the middle of writing a potions essay, and seeing as Georgie and I have spent the last week studying for our potions OWL, I figured I’d come ask you all the questions Hermione couldn’t answer for us,” he explained. “If that’s okay with you, that is.”

You feigned offense. “Wow, Hermione first then me? I see how it is, Weasley.”

He rolled his eyes, pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and smoothing it out on his thigh.

“These are our areas of concern,” he said, handing the paper to you.

“Areas of concern?” You raised an eyebrow as you scanned over the paper, chewing your bottom lip lightly as you tried to figure out what topics you could actually help him with. You glanced up at him, cheeks flushing at the sight of him watching you intently with a small smile on his face.

You’d always been a bit infatuated with Fred Weasley, but then again, who wasn’t? Fred and George were Quidditch legends, insanely popular (but in the truly social way, not the stuck up “I’m better than everyone” way), and quite smart. They were funny but caring, and stood up for anyone who needed it. He was also a year older than you, and thus you regarded him as completely unattainable.

“I understand everything up until this here,” you said finally, pointing at where ‘Draught of Peace’ was written. “I think this is where the fifth year curriculum begins, and obviously I’m not there yet.”

“I will gladly accept whatever help you can give,” Fred replied, grimacing as Madam Pince interrupted him with a loud “Shh!”

You startled again, exhaling quickly and glaring at Fred for causing the reprimand.

“Someone’s jumpy today,” he said, brows furrowing slightly. “You alright, (Y/n)?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you replied, looking down at Fred’s list once again. You went to hand it back to him, only to find him staring at you with an apprehensive look. “What?” you asked defensively.

“Have you been sleeping lately?” he asked quietly. You gulped, realizing you hadn’t concealed the dark purple bags under your eyes before you’d left your dorm.

“It’s just been a tough week,” you replied firmly, shoving the list into his hands and reaching down to gather your things.

“(Y/n)-”

“It’s late,” you stated, cutting him off before he could interrogate you further. “How about we get together to study sometime this week? That way I can find all my essays from this year for reference.”

“That works fine for me,” he replied hesitantly. “Are you-”

“I’m free any day except Wednesday, and Thursday morning because I have a Charms test,” you interrupted again, standing up quickly. “Just let me know whenever.”

He nodded slowly, pushing himself out of his seat as well, concern still etched across his face. You tried to give him a reassuring smile.

“How about tomorrow in the Great Hall? After my Quidditch practice,” he finally suggested. You nodded eagerly.

“Sounds perfect, I’ll see you then.” You gave him a small wave and rushed towards the doors, trying to ignore your heart beating ten times faster than normal and the memory of Fred’s worried gaze.

• • •

When you woke up from yet another night of hardly any sleep, you realized you had absolutely no idea when Quidditch practice was. You had walked down to the common room looking for Harry, but lo and behold, Oliver Wood was already up and annotating a book on Quidditch strategies at nine in the morning.

Practice was from three to five on Sundays, as you quickly found out, meaning you had a whole eight hours to stress about studying with Fred before it actually happened.

You spent an hour trying to fall back asleep and another working on your potions essay, then decided you’d had enough of your own room and went to bother Hermione in her dorm. You found her sitting on the carpet surrounded by a copious amount of notes, with Lavender and Parvati helping her sort through them.

“Transfiguration,” Parvati explained as you sat down to help them. “We have a test on Friday.”

“A bloody hard one, too,” Lavender said, slightly exasperated. “Four chapters worth of short ended questions and two essays.”

“Where’s Kellah?” you asked, realizing the fourth inhabitant of the dorm was missing.

“Interrogating McGonagall about all this.” Lavender jabbed a figure at a stack of notes spitefully.

“Maybe Kellah will convince her to give us all bonus points,” Parvati suggested. Hermione laughed softly, head still bowed over a lengthy piece of parchment in front of her.

“I hear you’ve got a study date with Fred Weasley this afternoon,” Hermione said, glancing up to give you a grin and an eyebrow wiggle. You groaned, blushing as Lavender and Parvati squealed.

“It’s really not that serious-”

“Except that it is!” Lavender all but shrieked. “You’ve liked him for forever!”

“Sweet Merlin, this is your chance!” Parvati gushed, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly. “I’m genuinely so excited about this.”

You laughed and shook your head. “I’ll be sure to give you all updates tomorrow, though I can’t promise they’ll be all that interesting.”

The four of you continued to talk about your looming study session with Fred as you combed through Hermione’s notes.

“This’ll be good for you, (Y/n),” Parvati said thoughtfully. “I mean, Fred’s a great guy, he’s always cared about you-”

“Maybe hanging out with him more will help with the whole, y’know, anxiety situation,” Lavender added. You shrugged.

“I mean, I saw him for literally five minutes yesterday and he’s already figured out that I’m not sleeping,” you said, chewing your bottom lip. “And I don’t why but the thought of him knowing everything makes me nervous.”

“Why?” Hermione asked curiously. You shrugged again.

“I guess I just don’t want him to be upset, or worried.”

“(Y/n), Fred would never be upset with you,” she said reassuringly.

“I think it’s romantic that he’s all in-tune with your emotions,” Parvati said wistfully.

“And he cares,” Lavender sighed, staring at the carpet emotionally. You rolled your eyes.

“Thanks, guys.”

• • •

At 2:30, you tried to convince yourself that you were heading down to the common room to relax, not to catch a glimpse of your favorite Weasley twin on his way to practice. That was a lie.

Fifteen minutes later, Fred Weasley ambled down the steps with the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, laughing loudly with George while Oliver trailed behind them muttering something about maturity. Fred’s face lit up as he caught sight of you curled up on the couch and smiled at you brightly. You gave him a small wave in return, hoping he wouldn’t be able to see the faint blush on your cheeks.

“I’ll see you later!” he called on his way out of the room. George paused in the doorway to give you an exaggerated wink, giggling when you glared at him before turning to catch up with the rest of the team.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, cursing your quickened pulse and sweaty palms - he’d only been in the same room as you, for Merlin’s sake, there was no need to get so worked up.

And yet Fred had all your nerves on edge as the clock on the wall ticked closer and closer to five o’clock. You pulled out your potions textbook and a spare piece of parchment, deciding to make a few notes for later.

At some point you dozed off, your lack of sleep catching up with you as it often did in the middle of the afternoon. You’d become a frequent napper in the last month or so, finding it easier to fall asleep when it was still light out. Today, however, was not the best day for one of your four hour recovery naps.

You woke up with half an hour to spare before you needed to be in the Great Hall. You went back up to your room, gathered your typical study things and changed out of the pajamas you’d been in all day, opting for a sweater and a new pair of sweatpants instead. This time, you made sure to dab concealer under your eyes, erasing all evidence of your insomnia before you left Gryffindor Tower.

There were only a few students sitting in the Great Hall when you got there. You took a seat in the middle of the Gryffindor table and inspected the baskets of assorted snacks in front of you as you set your bag down.

One of the first years, a girl named Amara, pushed a basket of pumpkin pasties towards you from her seat across the table. She gave you a shy smile. “I know you like them.”

“Thank you, Amara,” you said, grinning at the young Gryffindor and grabbing two of the pasties.

“What’s that about?” she asked as you pulled your textbook out of your bag.

“Potions,” you said, setting the book on the table in front of you. “I’m helping Fred study for his exams.”

“Fred Weasley?” Amara asked with wide eyes. You chuckled.

“The one and only.”

As if on cue, Fred made his way through the doors of the Great Hall, head turning as he scanned the room for you. He grinned as his eyes met yours and hastened his pace just a little bit. Your heart skipped a beat, admiring the way his sweatpants hugged his legs and the slight flush to his face.

“Hello, love,” he said, sliding into the seat next to you. You gave him a small smile, eyes widening as he wrapped an arm around your waist. If he noticed the blush tickling your cheeks he ignored it.

“And hello to you, too, Amara,” he continued, giving her a wave. “You look lovely today.”

She squeaked, face turning a bright shade of red as she scampered down the bench towards her classmates. You rolled your eyes, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder.

“You’re a menace,” you scolded.

“Sure am,” he replied proudly, removing his arm from your waist and clasping his hands together on the table in front of him. “So, potions.”

You nodded, flipping open your textbook to the Wit-Sharpening Potion (which you’d bookmarked earlier). “This is the first thing in the fourth year curriculum.”

“Which is where Hermione left off,” he added with a nod.

“I’ve already read it over,” you explained, pointing at some of the annotations you’d made earlier. “So we can review it together and then you can copy down all the important bits to study later.”

He looked down at himself and then gave you a sheepish look. “Do you by chance have something I could write on?” he asked. You sighed, reaching into your bag to grab a piece of parchment and a quill.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Weasley,” you said sarcastically.

“Oh, I hope so,” he replied cheekily, giving you a heart-melting grin.

You spent the next hour or so guiding him through the effects and recipes of each potion. He actually did a surprisingly good job at paying attention, taking detailed notes and only interrupting every once in a while to point out Amara staring at the two of you from a distance.

“She’s so cute,” you remarked softly, watching her gossip energetically with her friends.

“She reminds me of you when you were a first year,” Fred said. You gave him a confused glance.

“What do you mean?”

“Very enthusiastic, easy to rile up,” he explained.

“Now I understand why you and George pulled so many pranks on me,” you groaned, turning the page to the chapter on Skele-Gro.

“It’s was our job to terrorize the new students,” he said, raising his hands in defense. “Peeves’ orders.”

“Uhuh,” you said sarcastically, unable to keep the grin off your face.

“This is the stuff Madam Pomfrey gave to Harry last year!” Fred said excitedly, pointing at the book. You grinned and nodded.

“Yes! Now what’s it made of?” you asked, covering the ingredient list with your hand.

Fred’s nose scrunched as he concentrated. “Erm, puffer fish, and an arm bone, and…spiders?”

“One spider,” you corrected, lifting your hand off the page. “And a bunch of other things.”

“Chinese chomping cabbage, five Scarab beetles…” he mumbled, scribbling onto his parchment as he squinted at the list.

“Invented by Linfred of Stinchcombe,” you added.

“Funny name,” Fred chuckled.

“Which one?” you asked. “Linfred, or Stinchcombe?”

“Both.”

You giggled softly, gaze trailing upwards as the light emitting from the ceiling changed from a pale yellow to a deep blue. The floating candles gleamed brightly against the dark night sky. Despite the change, there was still enough light shining on the tables for you to be able to work.

“Lovely nighttime ambience,” Fred remarked from beside you.

“You sound like you work in real estate,” you replied, gaze moving from the ceiling to the large window at the front of the hall.

You inhaled sharply, noticing the all-too familiar silhouette of a dementor floating just beyond the glass.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Fred asked softly from behind you. You hardly noticed the hand he rested gently on your arm, focused entirely on the dementor hanging in the air like a twisted puppet.

“Dumbledore said they weren’t going to come on the school grounds,” you muttered.

Fred followed your gaze to the window, and you felt him stiffen behind you. “Ah.”

You turned back around in your seat, knocking his hand off you, and cleared your throat as you looked back at your notes.

“I think we can move on, yea?” you said, flipping to the next chapter.

“(Y/n)-”

“Antidotes,” you announced, clapping your hands together dismissively. “Very specific healing potions-”

“(Y/n)!” Fred interrupted, reaching out and covering your hand with his own. You sighed, finding yourself feeling oddly uncomfortable under his concerned gaze. “What, Fred?”

“Exactly, what the bloody hell was that?” he asked, a bit harshly.

“What are you talking about?”

“The dementor!” he said exasperatedly, frown deepening as you shivered. “(Y/n)?” His voice was much softer this time.

“I don’t like talking about them,” you said finally, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath. “They scare the shit out of me.”

“Are the dementors why you haven’t been sleeping?”

Your eyes snapped open, giving Fred an incredulous look. “I’ve been sleeping just fine, thank you.”

“I hope you don’t think last night in the library was the first time I’ve noticed,” he said softly. Your heart skipped a beat. “All year you’ve seemed…more reserved. Tired. You yawn all the time, I hardly see you eat.”

“I’m just…stressed,” you managed, glancing at the pumpkin pasties you’d set aside earlier. The dementor had taken your appetite away completely.

“It seems more serious than that,” Fred muttered, placing his hand on top of yours and squeezing gently. 

You sighed, glancing down the table to where Amara and her friends were staring at you intently. “Could we continue this conversation elsewhere?” you asked quietly. Fred nodded, helping you put your things in your bag.

“When did it start?” he asked as the two of you walked towards the doors at the end of the Great Hall.

“It’s been all year,” you admitted, cringing at the way Fred exhaled sharply. “I didn’t know you noticed.”

“Of course I noticed,” Fred said, pushing the door open for you. “You’re worth watching.”

You blushed and followed him down the corridor. “Where are we going?”

“I was thinking the kitchens?” he said. “It’s warm there, plus the house-elves are just starting dinner.”

Fred stayed by your side as you walked down the stairs, hand brushing against the back of yours lightly every time he took another step down. You bit your lip, imagining how it would feel to get to hold his hand.

“How was Quidditch practice?” you asked softly, breaking the silence. Fred looked down at you and gave you a small grin.

“You really want to know?”

You nodded.

“Absolute shit,” he replied, emphasizing every syllable. You stifled a laugh as his brows furrowed in frustration. “Wood has been up in everyone’s business for weeks trying to get us to learn this new play. You know who invented it?”

“Who?” you asked curiously.

“The Pride of Portree!” he said exasperatedly. “They’re bloody professionals, and Wood can’t seem to understand how we’re not performing as well as they are.”

“Wood’s a bit of a lunatic when it comes to Quidditch,” you agreed.

“A bit is an understatement,” Fred snorted, stopping at the fruit bowl painting that concealed the entrance to the kitchens. “Do you want to tickle the pear or should I?” “Don’t think I’ve ever been asked that before,” you laughed. “You can do it.”

Fred reached out and gave the two dimensional fruit a tickle, grinning as it turned into a door handle. He pulled it open. “After you, m’lady.”

“(Y/n)!”

You grinned and waved hello to Krafty, one of your favorite house-elves.

“Hello, Krafty,” Fred called, pulling the door shut and coming to stand beside you.

“Mr. Weasley,” Krafty said, giving a slight bow. “Krafty must go help work on dinner!”

You glanced up at Fred as the house-elf scurried off. “I didn’t know you knew Krafty.”

“George and I come here all the time to steal food before bed,” he explained, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards one of the tables. “We know quite a few of these guys.”

He sat down and patted the bench next to him, grinning as you followed suit and rested your head against his arm.

“Comfortable?” he asked. You nodded.

“Your mother’s sweaters are always so cozy,” you mumbled. “I stole one of Ginny’s old ones to sleep in.”

Fred chuckled. “I’ll just ask her to make you one.”

“I don’t want to burden her,” you whined.

“She loves you, she won’t mind.”

“I miss your mum,” you said. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen her.” “You should come visit,” Fred suggested. You shrugged, sitting up straight. “Maybe.”

Fred reached around your back and grabbed a roll out of a basket behind you. You gave him a confused look as he forced it into your hands.

“Would you please eat this,” he said. “I haven’t seen you eat a full meal in weeks and it’s starting to make me nervous.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, taking a small bite of the bread.

“I don’t mean to make you feel bad,” Fred said softly, “it’s just that you have to eat.”

“It’s not like I’m trying not to,” you explained. “I want to eat, but I get so…so nervous that I stop being hungry.”

“Because of the dementors?” he asked.

“Yea.” You cringed at how small your voice sounded.

“Why do they freak you out so much?” he asked genuinely. “I mean, they’re creepy and all, but you seem more affected by them than most other people.”

“You remember how one came into our compartment on the Hogwarts Express?” you asked. “At the beginning of the year?”

Fred frowned and nodded. “Don’t think Ron slept for two weeks.”

“Yea, well, I haven’t really slept since then,” you muttered.

“(Y/n), it’s been months,” Fred said incredulously, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I genuinely have no idea how you’ve been functioning this whole time.”

“I know it’s bad,” you sighed, leaning into his chest and trying to ignore the way his caring tugged at your emotions. “But it’s just…so dark in my room at night. And I’m always the last one awake and I feel so alone, and then I’m just reminded of how lonely and terrified and cold the dementor made me feel.”

“You have to sleep sometimes,” Fred said, pulling you in closer to him. “I read somewhere that you’ll die if you don’t sleep at all, and you’re clearly alive.” He pulled back and gave you a once-over. “Well, kind of.”

You snorted. “I take a lot of naps.”

“Is it easier to fall asleep during the day?”

“Yea, and I can hear people moving around and talking and stuff, so I don’t feel as isolated I guess,” you said.  Fred hummed, thinking to himself.

“Would it be okay if I proposed a rather outlandish and potentially polarizing solution,” he said finally.

“Uh, sure,” you replied, motioning for him to speak.

Fred cleared his throat. “You could, y’know, if you wanted to, come sleep with me. Only if you were okay with it, of course.”

You were sure you’d heard him wrong, eyes bulging as a faint blush appeared on his cheeks.

“Jesus, (Y/n), don’t look at me like that,” he teased with a nervous chuckle. You blinked, trying to force your face into a more normal expression.

“You…you want me to sleep with you?” you asked.

“Not sexually!” he clarified quickly. “Just like physical sleeping, and I could keep you company so you wouldn’t feel lonely.” A pause. “Unless you’d prefer sexually.”

You felt your face turn increasing shades of bright red, stuttering for an answer as he grinned at you adoringly. Your eyes widened as he reached out and grasped your thigh gently, staring down at his hand and then back up at him.

“Would this be a bad time to tell you I fancy you?” he asked quietly, his eyes searching yours for any trace of an answer.

“No,” you managed breathlessly. “This is a perfect time.” His lips were on yours in an instant, your eyes fluttering closed as one of his hands came up to cup your jaw, the other resting on the small of your back, coaxing you closer to him.

You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you senseless and caressing your face with his thumb.

And suddenly you remembered you were still in the kitchens. In the kitchens snogging Fred Weasley.

“Fred,” you murmured, pulling back and taking a deep breath. You opened your eyes, relishing in the sight of Fred panting, his eyes still closed. “Fred, we have an audience.”

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking at the small crowd of house-elves watching you from a distance, all donning shocked expressions. “Krafty! Doesn’t (Y/n) look ravishing this evening?”

Krafty blushed furiously, turning around and hurrying away with the platter he was carrying.

“Fred Weasley!” you scolded.

“I wasn’t completely joking, you know,” he muttered, looking back at you. “You look gorgeous. Absolutely stunning, inside and out.”

You blushed. “I, erm, fancy you too,” you said, realizing you hadn’t said it back before. “In case you were wondering.”

Fred grinned, pushing himself to his feet and reaching down to help you stand up. “Let’s take this back up to my dorm, yea? We can make tea and look at that potions book a little more, and then maybe you can spend the night?”

You looked up at him, beaming at the thought of spending a night in Fred Weasley’s arms, and potentially sleeping well for the first time in months. “That sounds marvelous, Freddie.”

[nervtvoeysestry]

🧡

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝THE SECOND DRINK.❞

(not my gif)

summary: the second part to the firewhiskey series, this time liquid courage brings you to the aftermath of the world cup. the drunken celebration and the we are the champions euphoria and the singing and dancing inside of your enormous tent - possibly the last time you and george would feel invincible, just hours before the world was flipped upside down.

warnings: domestic fluff, alcohol again, obviously, mentions of near-death experiences/being trampled, the phrase “drinking like a maniac” is used but in no way is alcohol being abused

word count: 1.4k

a/n: okay, okay, i know like 95% of what i write is smut, but i seriously love writing domestic fluff. :) hope you enjoy!

//////

“Let’s fucking go!” Fred shouted the moment he’d stomped back into the tent, flinging his arms into the air, “Break out the Firewhiskey, lads, it’s time to get our Irish party on…”

“Stop shouting, Fred,” Percy said irritably from the couch, shutting his outdated copy of Witch Weekly with a sharp SLAP. “You wouldn’t want Mother to hear about this, I assure you, I know you’ve been drinking like a maniac.”

“You’re so right, Weatherby,” George chortled from alongside Fred, and as Percy’s ears glowed red, you had to slap a hand to your mouth to suppress your laugh.

“Where did the boys go?” Arthur asked blankly from behind the twins, pivoting on his heel. Whether genuine or otherwise, he appeared not to have heard Fred’s desire to get drunk. “I - Harry?”

“Sorry, Mr Weasley,” Harry said as he ducked back into the tent, out of breath and red in the face. “That was - um, we ran into a couple of people.”

“That was the stupidest stunt I think you’ve ever pulled in your life, Ron!” a young, shrill voice you quickly realized was Hermione Granger’s shrieked from just outside the tent. “Five Galleons? For what?”

“Please don’t ask,” Harry tried weakly.

It had been an awkward stretch of time between the initial finale of the World Cup in the late afternoon and however long it had taken for the rest of them to get back to the tent after they’d decided to fetch some water from the opposite side of the campground. First getting back to your tent in the influx of wizards leaving the arena had been a terrifying endeavour, when everyone was shouting, cheering, dancing, singing, setting off green and gold bursts of sparks from their wands, and leprechauns were scampering about.

In fact, the horde had almost trampled you in their excitement, and you knew you’d never be able to repay Charlie for snatching you out just in time.

So it was understandable why you’d been reluctant to return to the festivities since then: you’d been lounging in the flat-sized tent with the older Weasley siblings, sipping tea and watching your leprechaun gold disappear on the counter while you waited for everyone to come back.

“I am ready to sleep for three days,” Ginny announced as she flounced back into the tent, her hands on her hips. “God, what a match!”

“Moran - Mullet - back to Moran - they score!” George cried out, laughing heartily at himself. “Where’s Bagman, eh? We’re bloody rich.”

“Where’s your girl?” Fred asked, looking around blankly, but he spotted you instantly. “Oh, there she is.”

You felt your cheeks warm at the title.

“You survived the campground,” you mumbled with a small smile on your face.

“We did,” George replied, stepping forward to wrap you in a hasty, one-armed hug. For seemingly no reason, he leaned in to kiss the side of your head, but you recognized the gesture for what it was.

“You still got the Firewhiskey?” he whispered in your ear.

You did: until Fred had openly announced his intention to get drunk, it had been kept a bit on the down low that you had the rest of the five Galleon bottle hidden away in your bag in the girls’ tent, because you knew there wasn’t a chance Molly would allow you to bring liquid courage to the World Cup.

(Honestly, it had been a bit saddening, knowing you were about to drink the rest of it. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get to Diagon Alley before you went off to Hogwarts to replenish your stash, and you’d be damned trying to getting a glass from Madam Rosmerta at Hogsmeade, so this was your summer’s last hurrah.)

Looking to the positive, you nodded slightly and released him.

“May as well put dinner on,” said Arthur, wandering around the kitchen kind of aimlessly, “The festivities will be starting soon...”

Ginny laughed, tossing her fiery red mane over her shoulder. “You say that like they haven’t already started, Dad.”

“We won, lads!” Fred took the opportunity to shout again, and everyone laughed, except Percy, but you saw his slight smile.

//////

As the evening progressed, the party atmosphere around the campground intensified. The sound of drums and bagpipes echoed through the night, people sang songs in the beautiful Irish tongue you couldn’t understand, and at some point, people began setting off colorful Muggle fireworks, casting dazzling spells into the night sky. Wizarding and magical entertainment combined together, it made for a wonderful and chaotic night.

The Weasley family and their friends gathered around a small campfire outside the tent, toasting marshmallows and giving each other a play-by-play of the afternoon’s match for the millionth time. It didn’t matter how many times they went over the match, how many lively debates erupted, or how many times somebody claimed to see the Snitch flying around before Krum, nobody could get enough.

“Moran was doing things with a Quaffle I’ve never seen before,” Ginny was saying, her eyes shining. “I cannot believe she was able to get that second goal past Zograf, it was honestly astounding-“

Above your heads, fireworks were detonating in fascinating spirals and twists bursting with colour, drowning out Ginny’s voice.

Tipsy, you stared up at them in wonder. There were leprechauns giggling and frolicking among the twinkling stars, taunting those sitting below, and the fireworks were consistently a mix of orange, green, and white for Ireland’s flag - you hadn’t seen any retaliation from the Bulgarian corner of the campsite just yet, but it wouldn’t have mattered, Ireland was demanding all the attention.

George had pulled you into him on the log, the Muggle fire was crackling in front of you, orange and warm. Your throat was still on fire from the first sips of Firewhiskey, but you were already feeling the warmth of the drink in your belly, and for a moment, all was well. Your face fit perfectly in the crook of George’s neck. He smelled like a spice you couldn’t quite place, and Chocolate Frogs.

“No time for losers…’cause we are the champions…” you heard a crowd singing in the distance, and you smiled gently, delighted that a Muggle song was so catchy, it had found its way into the wizarding world.

Amid the laughter and cheer, you couldn't help but express your curiosity about the mysterious stunt that Ron and Harry had pulled earlier, so you discreetly tapped Ron on the shoulder.

“Come on, you two, spill the beans. What did you do for those five Galleons?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

On his other side, Harry exchanged a glance with Ron before sharing a mischievous grin.

(Merlin, did he ever look like his father.)

"Let's just say we had a little bet with some fellow fans, and things got a bit competitive," Harry said, trying to be vague while his green eyes twinkled with mischief.

Ginny, who had been chatting with Bill, Charlie, and Percy, overheard their conversation and couldn't resist chiming in. "Oh, I know exactly what they did. You see, they challenged a group of Bulgarian fans to a broomstick race. They had to fly around the campsite three times, and the first one back won.”

Ron laughed, confirming Ginny's story, "Yeah, and I flew like a bat out of hell. Harry and I beat those Bulgarians fair and square. I've never seen Harry fly so fast, bloody hell.”

The group erupted into laughter as Ron continued his story in a melodramatic tone, describing his daring flight and the impressed expressions on the Bulgarian fans' faces. Even Percy, over on the other log, couldn't help but crack a smile at the ridicule of it.

“You know you weren’t supposed to do that, Ron,” Hermione reminded him, but her sourness seemed a bit forced: she had clearly enjoyed the spectacle just as much as everyone else.

With everyone laughing and merry, it seemed like a good time to slip away.

“Want a tea, George?” you asked rather pointedly, without looking at him.

Catching on, George was already getting up from the log. “Isn’t the kettle in the tent?’

“Be right back, everyone,” you announced, before you hurried back into the tent that positively stunk of cats.

As the clock ticked toward midnight, you couldn't help but reflect on the incredible bond you had formed with the Weasley family. Your last summer hurrah had turned into an unforgettable adventure, and you looked forward to more magical moments at Hogwarts in the coming year.

[mayraki]

“the stolen sweater” - george weasley

-> not my gif. let me know if it’s yours.

summary: the first night that you slept at the burrow, you accidentally wear george’s sweater the next morning. but here’s the thing, your relationship is a secret.

masterlist

Some people say the way you start your morning is the way your day will go. Well, let’s hope that that isn’t the truth because this wasn’t the morning you hoped you’d had when the Weasley family invited you to stay over for the night.

Specially when you had to keep your relationship with one of them a secret.

You knew the family since your first year at Hogwarts. So many trips, dinners, sleepovers shared with the family you couldn’t even count them with your two hands after that. You saw them as another part of your family with only one difference, red hair on their heads. Like the Weasleys, your family was as big as the house itself. You were the middle child, having two older brothers, one little brother, and a little sister. So, when you needed to talk about how everything was too much sometimes, you had someone to talk to; George Weasley.

Since the moment you met him at the Hogwarts Express on your first year at Hogwarts, you two clicked instantly. Well, let’s just say that when he accidentally exploded your just bought drink, there was nothing much to it. He expected for you to get angry at him, but for his surprise, laugh started coming out of your mouth and without even hesitating, took revenge on that instant by grabbing another drink from the trolley and pouring it on him. Obviously, you two got detention for almost two weeks. That was not a great start of your first year at Hogwarts, but something good came out of it. A new friendship.

But that wasn’t all, with that relationship came another one, just like a package. Fred Weasley, George’s twin. They were always together so automatically you three became inseparable and unstoppable. But, even if you loved the two Weasley twins equally, you always knew since that moment at the Hogwarts Express, your relationship with George was different. He was the best friend you could ever asked for, he was there when you most needed it, when you two were together it was like the world suddenly got better and laugh like it was the last day you two would live.

Obviously, with that, came people that thought you two were dating. But your relationship with George wasn’t like that at all, you even helped each other get dates and celebrate when the other one took a chance and talked to their crush. You finished your last year at Hogwarts with your best friends next to you the happiest you could ever be. It was all perfect. Until, something inside of you changed.

The second that Fred asked you to go on a double date, with George as your date, you immediately said yes. The girl that Fred suddenly got interest in was a coworker of yours, so when the idea that the four went out came into Fred’s head, it was all settle. You didn’t think much to it, since it was just helping a friend out. That was it.

Well, it wasn’t.

The moment that Fred gave you and George the look, you two nodded saying that you needed to go the toilet, and George, kindly offering to go accompany you, leaving Fred alone with the girl he was so strangely interested in. The idea was that after ‘going to the restroom’, you two got lost, giving more time alone for Fred to make his move. But those minutes that you had planned to be ‘lost’ turned into the rest of the night. You couldn’t even count with one hand the amount of times your heart started to beat faster when he got closer to you, or when he noticed you were feeling kinda cold, so he landed his sweater to you. You didn’t know what it was, maybe the dark sky full of stars, the couple of drinks you had minutes ago, but you started to see George differently after that night. You wanted to spend more time with him, but not like those days at Hogwarts, were you helped him and Fred planned their next prank, it was different. You wanted to be more close. Maybe physical or emotionally, you didn’t know.

You spent the entire week confused at your own feeling and thoughts, it was consuming your brain so much that you decided to talk about it with him. Of course, you were terrified. Terrified that he didn’t feel the same way and it was going to ruin the friendship. But the moment that you couldn’t even focus on your work, you took that as a hint that it needed to be talked about.

So, when the weekend came, your heart started to beat faster because you already knew it was the day you were going to... confess your feelings towards him.

Was it the word ‘confess’ your feelings, when you don’t even know what you’re feeling?

The moment you saw him, standing there with that big cheeky smile that you loved so much, your heart started beating so fast that you got the feeling it was going to jump out of your chest. It had to be done, you knew that. You couldn’t stop. You needed to know what he felt, and you wanted him to know how you felt, even if you didn’t even know it yourself.

“What is that pretty head of yours thinking right now?” You heard George asking behind you the moment you put your tea cup on the table, making you snap out of your thoughts.

You turned around giving him a little smile. “Thinking about the time I told you I liked you.”

George let out a smile and gave you a kiss on the forehead, before sitting down next to you. “Can you believe it’s going to be already three months?”

“Honestly, no. I didn’t even know you were going to say you liked me back, so thinking about how much time has passed, I can’t believe non of it.”

Without thinking about it, George grabbed your cheek with the intention to pull you closer and unite his lips with yours, but you grabbed his hand and stopped him from doing it.

“We can’t here, anyone can come in at any second.”

“Dad’s working, mum and Ginny are in the back, Fred is at the shop, and who knows where Ron is with his friends. It’s alright.” He said with a smile and you gave in, since you loved when he got so needy.

You spent the rest of the afternoon talking to George about some new ideas he had for the shop and you got so happy seeing him so excited and passionate about it. You couldn’t take your eyes away from him while he was talking, you felt how your heart was slowly melting and your ears loving that sweet sound of his voice. You were so into the moment, that without thinking about it, you took your hand and left it on his shoulder to caress it with your thumb. He didn’t even notice, since apparently this particularly idea he was talking about was the best he had in weeks.

“Sweetie! Don’t forget to make sure there’s no gnomes left. We don’t want those nasty creatures stealing the food again.” You heard Molly talking fast while entering the house backwards, facing you and George with her back. You immediately took your hand off George’s shoulder once Molly turned around and gave you one of her famous warm smiles. “Darling! I didn’t know you were here.” She said.

“I arrived when you started doing the housework in the backyard.” You said getting up, and once Molly left the heavy box she was carrying, welcomed you with a tight hug, like she always did.

“It’s so good to see you darling.” She said after breaking the hug. “Oh! Do you want to stay for dinner?”

“I don’t know, it’s getting pretty late. Probably should get home before it gets too dark.”

“Then you should stay the night!” A familiar voice talked on the front door. Ginny Weasley walked closer to you to wrap your body in a tight hug. “I love when you stay the night! I miss our sleepovers, Y/n!”

You let out a laugh. “I missed them too.”

“That’s settle, then.” Molly said while Ginny was clapping in excitement. “I’m already ready to feed another mouth.” Molly did a little tap with her hand on your cheek and walked away, leaving you with the two siblings alone in the kitchen.

You turned to lock eyes with George to see that he was already smiling at you, and when Ginny turned around to take off her jacket, he winked at you making you melt on the inside.

“C’mon, I have something to show you.” Ginny grabbed your hand and quickly walked you upstairs, after you shrugged your shoulder at George and he just let out a tiny laugh.

“I’m never going to get tired of eating Molly’s food.” You said as you and Ginny were walking upstairs with George behind you.

“Then you have to come more often, too bad.” Ginny said sarcastically and you let out a tiny laugh. “Alright, see you tomorrow George.” She said but then when she turned around noticing that you weren’t moving towards her room and were staring at George, she quickly asked: “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head turning to face her. “I just need to go to the toilet.”

Ginny nodded still a little bit confused of your sudden strange action, but still, turned around and you lost her as deeper as she got into the house.

“I may be wrong,” George said once you turned to look at him “that when we tell everyone about us, Ginny is the one that’s going to be the most happy.”

You let out a tiny laugh and nodded. “Maybe.”

“She does love you, a lot.” George grabbed your waist to pull your closer and caress your cheek with his thumb. “I don’t blame her.” He said almost in a whisper while staring at your lips.

“Hold yourself, anyone can see us here.”

“You’re no fun, what happened to the troublemaker I met at Hogwarts?”

“She’s still here,” you got closer to his lips “but this Y/n likes to tease you, a lot.” The second he tried to unite his lips with yours, you pulled back leaving the poor George and his needs all by himself.

“You’re awful.” George said jokingly as you were walking backwards and waving at him. “I’ll be waiting for you.” He said, as you winked at him and turned around, finally heading towards Ginny’s room.

“That was fast.” Ginny said the moment she saw you crossing the door.

“What?”

“Didn’t you had to go to the bathroom?”

“Right!” You said normally, but on the inside you were slapping yourself on the forehead with the palm of your hand for being so stupid. “I forgot.”

“You forgot to go to the bathroom?”

“Yeah.”

Ginny furrowed her eyebrows confused. “Strange.”

“Not really.” You shook your head and quickly looked for something to change the subject. “So, what to do you want to do?” You hoped that Ginny didn’t ask more questions, and that seemed to work, since she did a single clap excited and started naming all of the things she wanted to do on that sleepover.

You spent the last hour and a half talking non stop with Ginny while playing some games you two would love playing as kids. It was like you two were teenagers all over again. It didn’t matter that you were a couple of years older than her, she was just another little sister you adore so much. One more is just nothing to you at this point.

As much as you enjoyed talking and hanging with Ginny, you couldn’t wait for the moment she would go to bed and fall asleep. And for your luck, that time came. You started to hear little snores that were coming out of her nose and you smiled to yourself on your bed. Without making any noise and slowly as you ever moved, you walked towards the door and once you were outside, made sure no one was around. And with quiet steps, walked to George’s room.

As you moved the door, your eyes saw him laying on his bed next to an empty one, Fred’s bed. He had his eyes closed while his arm was behind his head, making him look as beautiful and peaceful he has ever been. You bit your lower lip trying to not wake him up as you were walking with your slow steps, but the second you were next to the bed, with his other arm he quickly grabbed your waist and pulled you to the bed, making fall on top of him. “You took your sweet time, gorgeous.”

“I like spending time with your sister, if you would like to know. We were just talking and time flew fast.” You said as you were getting comfortable on the bed, letting your head rest on his chest and your hand caressing his stomach.

“About what?” He asked almost in a whisper.

“Life. Our memories at Hogwarts.” You said and George let out a tiny laugh.

“Hope all good.”

“Yeah. I mean, I had you and Fred as best friends, what could possible go wrong?” You asked sarcastically since almost everything, like you remembered, went wrong ending up in detention.

“We had a great time.” He said and you nodded against his chest. “But it did go fast. Look at us now.”

“Yeah.” You said so softly while remembering all those old memories that your word were almost covered by the wind blowing outside. You felt your feet getting a little bit cold so you pressed them against George’s legs and immediately felt his heat going towards you, but it wasn’t enough.

“Do you think it’s time?” George asked out of the blue and you lifted your head to give him a quick look with your eyebrows furrowed, but then went back to his chest.

“Time for what?”

“To tell everyone.”

You let out a sigh and closed your eyes while thinking your next words. You remembered the moment that you two decided to finally be a thing and to also, keep it a secret. At the moment, it seemed the right thing to do. His family and you were extremely close, so close that they were your second family. The idea of dating never crossed your mind as you were growing up, until it happened. You had denied liking George romantically multiple times, so when it finally happened it was even weirder for you. And it’s not like you expect it to be weird for the Weasley family, the opposite. The amount of times Molly said jokingly that you would make a perfect couple for one of the twins you couldn’t even count them with one hand. So, it wasn’t news that you dating one of them wasn’t going to pass as some news that they talk for a week and then carry on like it’s normal. Because it wouldn’t. You didn’t want to get anyone hopes up of you two working and living the happily ever after, like Molly and Arthur wanted for the children, and then the relationship not working and ruining what you had with the entire family.

You and George not working out was not even in your list of things that could happen, but in reality, it could. So, you two decided to wait and see how the thing was going to turn out. And it did, better than you ever imagined it could.

“I mean,” George added since he noticed your silent. “we decided to tell them once we were ready and we started to noticed our relationship was working... do you think it’s working?”

“Yeah.” You said softly after looking at him with your elbows against the bed. He let out a tiny smile and you couldn’t help but unite his lips with yours. You immediately felt his cold lips but you didn’t mind, somehow it did bring warmth to your body.

“You’re freezing.” George said once he touched your arm and he felt the coldness of it.

“I didn’t plan to stay the night, so I didn’t bring any warmer clothes.” You said shrugging your shoulders with the intention to go back to your prior position but George gently pulled you back and got out of bed and went to the tiny closet he had between the two bed.

After a couple of seconds looking for something, he finally did and let out a tiny smile. “Here.” He said once he handed a tiny sweater that had the letter “G” on it. “Mum made it my second year of Hogwarts, I think it’s going to go well.”

“Perfect.” You said once you put it on and you felt how the warmth or if immediately hit your body.

“You look adorable.” He said getting closer to you and leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Bless your mum.” You said caressing your arms while you waited for George to get back on the bed so you could rest your head against his chest once again.

Moments had passed in silence while he was caressing your head and you were slowly feeling how your eyes were getting heavy and your body giving up to the bed and comfort you were feeling. But when your head remembered you were on his room, your eyes quickly went open.

“I should probably go, we don’t want anyone coming in and seeing me here.”

George didn’t respond immediately, so you looked at him and let out a tiny smile when you saw him so peacefully. You got closer to his face to give a kiss on his lips, but before you could do it, he said “5 more minutes?” You let out a tiny smile and melted on the inside.

“5 more minutes.”

“I’m disappointed you guys didn’t invite me to the party.” That was the first thing you heard before you opened your eyes with a familiar voice. It took you and your just woken up brain to realise what was in front of you.

You looked at the red haired boy that you had in front of with a cheeky smile on his face. You were about to smile but then you noticed it was the wrong twin.

“Fred!” You said in a loud whisper getting up from the bed, making George quickly wake up and stare with sleepy eyes at his brother.

“Did you two had fun last night?” Fred asked grinning at you and then his twin.

“What?” You asked and then closed your eyes with strength. “Oh fuck.”

“Oh fuck indeed.” He added. “So, when did it all start?”

You turned to George who was staring at you with a smile. He just shrugged his shoulders and you nodded, biting your lip and locking eyes with Fred, who was patiently waiting for the two of us to talk. “Do you have time?” You asked before deciding to tell every single detail.

After telling everything to Fred, he just shrugged his shoulders and added, before leaving the room; “I’m not surprised. Still sad you didn’t invite me to the party.”

George threw a pillow at him and you bit your lower lip trying to hide the smile that wanted to come out.

“Breakfast!” You heard Molly yell once you stepped on the staircase towards the kitchen.

“Mum! Smells great.” George said.

“Like always.” Fred added, giving Molly a kiss on the forehead.

“Y/n, darling,” Molly looked at you while walking towards you with her arms wide open to give you a tight hug. “did you sleep well?”

“Perfectly.” You said with a smile and gave George a quick look.

“Did Ginny let you sleep? She gets a little bit chatty sometimes.”

“No I don’t!” Ginny appeared at the end of the staircase and you let out a tiny laugh. She walked closer to you and wrapped her arms around your shoulder. “Where did you go last night?” She asked and you quickly turned to see if Molly was gone, and for you luck she was and didn’t hear Ginny’s question.

“What?” You asked pretending to not have heard her but before she could repeat herself, Molly spoke before her.

“Was it cold in Ginny’s room yesterday?” She asked and you quickly turned to her.

“What?” You and George asked at the same time. Both Ginny and Molly turned to George confused but then carried on.

“Was it?” Molly asked again. “Because I’ve noticed you burrowed one of her sweaters.”

You felt how your heart dropped to your stomach once you looked down and noticed you were still wearing Goerge’s sweater that he let you use last night. Your brain was looking for excuses to say, but nothing was coming to you.

“That’s not mine.” Ginny said.

“What?” Molly asked confused. “But it has the ‘G’ in it.”

“I don’t remember this sweater being mine.”

You turned to George when your brain couldn’t think of the next thing to say. You two kept staring at each other and even though no words were coming of each other’s mouth, you two knew exactly what the other was thinking.

“Oh, now I remember!” Ginny said, before any words could come out of your mouth or George’s. You turned to her and you noticed something clicked on her brain, since she saw you and George staring at each other. “Yes, it’s mine. I forgot I had it.” She said and then a big smile appeared on her face.

“Oh, good. Now, everyone come sit down, eat your breakfast.” Molly said, thankfully, forgetting about the whole thing immediately.

You turned to George who had a little smile on his face, and when no one was looking, he winked at you which lead you to melt on the inside and your heart to skip a beat. But before you could do anything about it, you felt Ginny grabbing your arm and pulling you aside where no one could hear her.

“So that’s where you were last night?” She asked in a loud whisper and you furrowed your eyebrows confused.

“What?” You asked, hoping that she would soon forget and drop it, but knowing Ginny she wasn’t going to do it. And you knew her very well.

“C’mon, the ‘G’? That’s George’s sweater!” She said more loudly and then looked back hoping no one heard her.

“You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?”

Ginny let out an excited smile and then added, more calmly: “Mrs. Y/n. Weasley. I like that.” She nodded and then without giving you any time to answer, turned around to join her brothers at the table.

You stayed there for a couple of seconds smiling, pretending to not be so in love with that too.

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[shadowsinger11]

Insomniacs In Love

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Description: Wrote this ficlet for @wand3ringr0s3 's writing challenge. Congrats on your milestone, Haley!! I'm so proud of ya and ily so much girl💕💕

Warnings: Brief descriptions of war

Tags: @spilled-prose @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @theweasleysredhair @elf-punk @heart-of-tempered-steel @itseatyourdamnapples @aaannabbanana @l0ttadreamz @potter-redheads

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Masterlist

The white ceiling was staring right back at you.

Your tired eyes had no strength to fight back the hot trail of bitter tears rolling down your cheeks and falling on your pillow. The heavy, cold sheets, tangled between your legs, shrivelled even more under you as you struggled to ease your anxious mind into sleep, but every blink would bring images of explosions and unmoving bodies. The intrusive smell of blood and rotting flesh had been ingrained into your brain for years; the earsplitting, violent screams of terror had become nothing more than a background noise.

Adults and children were fighting side by side, desperately holding onto whatever hope for a future they might have had. The fresh summer soil was soaked in blood, old and young; with a burning passion, you prayed to whoever could hear you, that you wouldn't spot the faces of your loved ones in the sea of corpses that stretched out far into the distance.

There was chaos, and in between - grim visions of morning light.

You couldn't fall asleep, not when you could still vividly picture that night as though it had just been yesterday. Years later, the memory didn't fail to turn you into its slave every time you'd close your eyes.

The moon was wide awake. The air seemed to not be enough for you and the buzzing silence had nearly driven you to the point of insanity when you finally jumped out of your bed. The sharp moonlight caused your silhouette to dance as you walked barefoot out of your bedroom.

It was eerily unsettling to be strolling down the hallway of Fred and George's apartment without being bombarded by cheerful laughter and occasional explosions - there was only creaking of wooden stairs as you walked down to the kitchen. You poured yourself a full glass of cold water and immediately downed it entirely, hoping it would shake off the anxiety bubbling in your stomach.

You took a refill for just in case and sat beside the small kitchen table. You let out a deep breath and rested your head in your palms, shoulders heavy as if the carried the world.

A gentle voice nearly caused you to knock over the glass.

"Trouble sleeping?"

You looked up from your lap to see George standing by the doorway, hands in the pockets of his pajamas. His spiky hair and sleepy gaze let you know he had just woken up, but his expression immediately softened when he noticed your tearful eyes.

You smiled as best as you could, "You have no idea."

George approached you and sat beside you. He moved closer to try to take a better look at your distressed face; he didn't miss the stiffness of your body and the puffiness of your bloodshot eyes. The sight sent an electric shock through him and his heart began to ache.

"You're pretty shaken up, darling. What's wrong?" He asked just above a whisper, as though he was afraid he'd scare you away. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and you leaned into his touch, seeking some kind of warmth.

How could you explain to him you were still being haunted by the past? It had been years, why were you still chained by sorrow? You hated yourself for letting it settle in your bones, for not being able to return to the person you once used to be.

George was unharmed and so was his family. You were too. There was no logical reason for you to be thinking about it. Nevertheless, your nightmares were the reason you'd wake up every night in cold sweat, limbs of lead. Yet George didn't know a thing.

"It's nothing to worry about," you assured him despite your stomach twisting at the lie you had just spat out. "Just bad dreams."

"You seem to get a lot of those lately," George stated sympathetically; he could always read you so effortlessly. The sudden vulnerability caused you to shrink further into your chair, a fresh tear rolling down your cheek.

Your friend wiped it away with the pad of his thumb and hummed.

"That's alright. So do I."

"How do you know this about me?" you questioned, more confused rather than embarrassed.

His lips curled up in a tiny, sad smile, "You're not the only one wandering the house at night, sweetheart."

"I didn't know you still dream of… of it," you let out in a moment of realization. You didn't have to say what exactly you were referring to - you shared the same tragic memory.

"Yes, I do," he murmured. "Every night."

Your eyes met his dark brown ones and your heart sank; they were just as tortured as yours, and lacked the spark they once possessed. Never had you believed George would have to feign joy in his lifetime, he was the source of joy to everyone around him. But how could you expect flowers to bloom in a garden that's been burned to the ground?

Silence fell over you. Your eyes burned again.

"You should try to get some sleep," George advised, attempting to mask his hoarse voice, shaking ever so slightly. Your face fell. "I know it might be hard, but you can't risk getting a headache in the morning, you know."

The moon was still shining brightly through the window, illuminating his concerned face and the tears that had already formed in his eyes.

You swallowed hard.

"You're right. But I don't really want to go. It's just…" you sighed. Your hands were trembling. "It feels kinda lonely up there."

George nodded in understanding; there was no judgement in the way he observed you. He himself had spent way too many cold, sleepless nights. Fighting the same demons as you. 

It hurt him beyond measure to know you too were being held hostage by the weight of the past; the past which was robbing you both of your future. But what hurt him more was his inability to help you. He desperately yearned to heal you of your misery and hear your laughter, the laughter that had made him fall for you long before he even knew what love was.

The redhead was suddenly struck by an idea and his shoulders relaxed, a small smile causing his dimple to appear.

"I can go to bed with you, if that's okay with you, of course. Only until you fall asleep, that is. Then I'll go back to my room."

Your instinctive reaction was to refuse, but you stopped yourself before you could respond. Surely it wouldn't be so bad to have company, would it? It didn't seem like George was only doing it out of pity either; he genuinely cared about you and had your best interest in mind.

"You can say no, it's fine," said George when he didn't receive a reply. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"It's okay with me, I promise," you mirrored his smile. "Shall we go?"

You rose to your feet and headed towards your bedroom upstairs, George following closely behind. He couldn't recall a previous time when he had been in there, and he was pleasantly surprised to see how you had changed the design to your liking after you had moved in to live with the twins. The room looked cozy and truly felt like... you.

You were the first to climb into the bed and scooted over to make room for George's long legs. The mattress sank under his weight and he pulled the covers over the two of you, making sure he didn't take too much of them. George then rolled over to the opposite side, not wishing to invade your personal space.

Despite being taken aback by his action, you did the same - if that was the closest you'd get to being together with him, so be it.

You pulled the blanket over your shoulder and closed your eyes, but alas, your lungs constricted with anxiety. The intrusive silence let your mind wander back to memories you had been trying so hard to push away. The empty space behind your back was cold.

Less than an hour later, you were still as awake as you could be. Your friend was a quiet sleeper and thus you had no idea if he was asleep yet or if he was about to drift off. Nevertheless, you still felt guilty for whispering.

"Georgie?"

Rustling in the bedsheets.

"Hm?"

You wettened your lips and timidly asked, "Can I hold your hand?... For just a bit?"

George turned around and you expected to see him scowl for being woken up like that, especially for a thing as silly as your request. But you were met with such a fond expression, immense care swimming in his eyes.

Any sleepiness was nonexistent on his features; he couldn't fall asleep either.

"Of course," he smiled and lifted your hand to press a tender kiss to your wrist. His soft lips stayed there, pulse racing madly underneath, and the warmth lingered on the skin long after George pulled away and placed your hand on his chest. You let out a quiet gasp when you felt his own heart hammering against his ribs.

His other hand slid down to your waist and pulled you closer. You buried your face in his neck.

You could finally breathe.

He began tracing lazy patterns on your lower back. "Better?"

"Better."

George's fingers lightly grazed your skin, slow and gentle touch never once stopping its loving path. Drowsiness welcomed you much sooner than you had expected and your eyes fluttered closed. The last thing you remembered was George's lips on your eyelids.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep your demons at bay at least for just one night. George gave into slumber as well, both of you engulfed by divine serenity until the bright moon hid behind the horizon.

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