#ps. look at george's face

[friendsdontlieokay]

Guys look at Gideon and Fabian trying to protect little Molly

[agreeewrites]

Hii there!! Can you write something about George Weasley where he and the reader have been really good friends for a while but start secretly dating because of some stupid rule like quidditch players can’t date during the season or something like that? And they get caught by their friends being intimate after a game?

Ps: love your writing style so much, your fics are so easy to get into and beautifully written💕

thank you for the request! hope your enjoy 🫶

The No-Dating Rule | G.W.

feat. George Weasley x fem!reader

cw: MDNI 18+, light smut (heavy petting/making out), sneaking around/secret relationship, jealous!george, assault via bludger, oliver wood is a cock block.

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You were walking down the hall with Luna, chatting about the results your divination exam, when a hand shot out and yanked you into a dark, empty classroom.

“Fancy seeing you here,” your captor said in a very familiar, cheeky voice.

“You can't just kidnap me, Weasley.” You cross your arms over your chest, jutting out a hip.

“Kidnapping is a bit dramatic.” George’s hands slide around your waist. “Can't a bloke want to spend a few moments with his girl?” He leaned down, his lips brushing along the column of your throat.

You craned your head back for him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Perhaps. But still, some warning would be nice.”

His lips connected with yours in a soft, languid kiss. “Consider yourself warned,” he grinned.

You breathed a content sigh, taking your fingers through his ginger hair while he peppered featherlight kisses along your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids. The last few weeks had been so challenging thanks to Woods new rule about dating during Quidditch season.

You and George had been circling one another since fourth year, waiting for the right moment to dip your toes into something more than friendship. And of course, when the stars finally aligned, Wood had to throw a wrench in your new relationship. So now, instead of basking in your honeymoon phase, you were forced to sneak around, hiding your relationship from everyone.

But Fred, obviously. George couldn't lie to his twin even if he wanted to.

“You're in your head, darling,” George murmured, pulling back to look at your face in the dim light.

“Am not,” you argued, dragging your hands down his chest and sliding them under his robes. The sweater beneath was soft and thick, warm from his body heat.

“What are you thinking about?” He kissed your temple, across your cheekbone, beneath your ear…

You hummed, leaning into him, soaking up his heat, his unhurried affection.

“Love?” He prodded, nipping at your ear.

“Just how much I like you,” you whispered, resting your chin on his sternum when he pulled back.

A smile spread across his freckled face. “My sweet girl,” he cooed. “I like you too.”

You pressed your lips to his, brushing your tongue along his lower lip, and his hands tightened on your waist. He parted his lips for you to delve deeper, matching every stroke of your tongue with his until you were panting, clawing at his sweater to get closer.

He backed you against a desk, his hand sliding under your skirt to squeeze your ass, notching your hips against his. A gasp squeaked for your throat when he ground himself against you, already growing sensitive.

He chuckled. “Gonna to have to be quiet f’me, love. Don't want go get caught with a Beater, aye?”

You nodded, clamping your lips shut.

The Quidditch season was only three months. How hard could it be?

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Quidditch practice ran late for the third night in a row, and you were desperate for some attention from your boyfriend.

You lurked by the Gryffindor locker rooms, waiting for George to emerge, freshly showered in his favorite hoodie and sweats. Your mouth nearly watered at the thought.

But player after player trailed out of the locker room, and no George. You were getting impatient, shifting form foot to foot when you spotted Fred walking with Ron, chatting animatedly about the match this weekend.

You grabbed Fred’s wrist and yanked him to the corridor you were hiding.

“Oi! What—oh, hey y/n.” He smirked down at you, waggling his eyebrows. “Wrong twin, but—”

“Ew, Fred! No! Where's George?”

Fred snickered. “Still in the shower. Pitch was muddy and he got a face full from Thomas.”

You grimaced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, he was livid. But, he's the last one in there if you want to cheer him up.” Fred winked and slipped back into the hall, leaving you to your mischief.

You scampered down the corridor and into the locker room, following the trail of steam until you found the only drawn curtain. George was humming to himself, tapping his feet on the tile floor.

You clapped a hand over your mouth to avoid laughing and ruining the surprise, and perched on the bench across from the curtain to wait.

A few moments later, the water cut off and his hand poked through the curtain, grabbing the red towel off the hook.

The curtain ripped open, and George yelped in surprise, nearly dropping the towel slung low around his hips.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You grinned.

“You little minx.” He grabbed you off the bench and into his still damp chest, kissing you fiercely. “I was just about to come see you,” he said between sloppy kisses, backing you against a row of lockers.

“Were you?” You giggled as his lips moved down your neck, sending tingles skittering across your skin. You dragged your nails cross his bare back, admiring the way his muscles jumped at your touch.

“Couldn't stand another night without you,” he admitted. He started undoing the buttons of your blouse, clearly feeling as desperate as you did based on the tent in his towel.

“Eager, are we?” You teased, hiking your leg over his hip as his hand slid into your skirt.

His middle finger swiped through your slit, teasing your clit with small circles. Pleasure pulsed through you, making your eyes roll back. “Someone is. Already soaked for me, love,” he groaned, capturing your lips in another bruising kiss as he toyed with you.

“Fuck, Georgie,” you whined, bucking your hips against his hand.

“Merlin, I missed you.”

“Weasley, you still in here?” Wood called his voice echoing around room.

“Bloody fucking—stall, now.” George slipped his fingers from you and into his mouth, ushering you into the shower stall he just vacated. The air was still humid and scented by his vanilla body wash. No, your vanilla body wash, you realized, spotting the bottle you'd been missing still sitting on the shelf.

“Still hangin’ around, Wood?” You heard George say.

“I wanted to talk to ya’ about somethin’,” Oliver said, and you saw his boots enter the shower room from under the curtain.

“Can I put trousers on first?”

Oliver snorted. “Sure, mate.”

You heard George shuffling around, pulling on his clothes.

“Fucking trousers don't hide shit,” he grumbled to himself and you had a stifle another laugh. “Alright, Wood. What's on your mind?”

“You've been distracted, Weasley. Missing bludgers, ignoring plays, it's not like you to not take Quidditch seriously,” Oliver said, and you frowned.

George sighed. “It's, ah, there's an assignment in Herbology that's gone tits up. Damn plant won't grow,” George said.

“Uh huh,” Wood answered, clearly not buying it. “Well, maybe it's time your sort out your priorities, mate. Not sure a plant is worth throwing the season, if ya’ know what I mean. We need our best Beater, yeah?”

Your stomach dropped, indignation at Woods words colliding with the newfound guilt in your mind. George loved Quidditch. You didn't want to be the reason he wasn't playing well. But also…what if that meant Quidditch was higher priority to him? Where did that leave you?

“Understood, Captain.” George's voice was cold, a stark contrast to his usual chipper demeanor, and it raised goosebumps along your arms.

Oliver clapped him on the shoulder and left the locker room, evidently oblivious to the shift in George. The door clicked shut behind him, echoing around the empty room.

George tugged the shower curtain open, startling you from your spiralling thoughts. He immediately clocked the distress on your face, the corners of his mouth turning downward. “Oh, lovey—”

“I didn't know I was impacting the team,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes.

George tilted your chin up, his other arm wrapping around your waist. “Baby, the teams fine. Wood just has a stick up his ass. I played great today, and always do when you're in the stands watching me.”

It was true. Some of his best games had been in the last month you'd been together.

“And besides, I don't need to sort out my priorities.” He bumped his nose against yours. “You always come first, y/n.”

Your heart soared, heat creeping up your neck. “Before Quidditch?” You asked, curling your hands into his hoodie.

“Before everything.” He kissed you softly, with no real pressure, just feeling you against him, and all your anxiety fell away. “C’mon, Freddie's going to a Hufflepuff party tonight, so we've got my dorm to ourselves.”

You kissed him again, smiling. “Sounds perfect.”

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Brooms whizzed over your house’s section, whipping your scarf around your head.

“Go George!” You cheered, when he drifted nearby, twirling the bat in his gloved hand.

He flashed you a wink before banking left, whacking the snot out of bludger that was hurdling straight for Ron. It rocketed across the pitch and directly into the other houses Seeker, giving Harry the advantage.

“Woohoo!” You cheered with the rest of the student body. “Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!”

“Good game, aye?” A guy sidled up next you, leaning against the railing. You sort of recognized him from your Potions class, but couldn't be sure.

“Great game,” you replied, turning your attention back to the match and your boyfriend.

“Are you fan? Of Quidditch, I mean?”

“Mhmm—go Ron!” You cheered, tuning him out.

“I'm Gus, by the way. We're in the same Potions class?”

“Hi, Gus.” You give him a tight smile, hoping he takes the hint.

“Y’know, maybe we could study together sometime. Merlin knows Potions isn't my strong suit, but you seem pretty smart—”

“Get after it, Harry!” You roared as the Seeker flew overhead, the snitch just a few feet out in front of him.

“What do you think, y/n?” Gus prodded.

Irritation prickled up your neck. “I'm not sure I have time to tutor someone.”

Gus’ smile faltered. “Well, what about the next match, then? Maybe we could sit together.” He scooted closer you, infringing on your already limited space.

You squirmed closer to your friend on the other side of you, who was too wrapped up in the match to notice your discomfort. “No thanks, Gus.”

“Oh, c’mon. I promise I'm a nice guy.” He dropped his hand on your knees, and you wrenched yourself away.

“Don't fucking touch me—”

A deafening crack sounded from across the pitch and you both startled, turning back towards the match. A bludger was barreling straight towards your section. You screamed as it slammed into the post less than half a meter from Gus' head, ripping through the wood with a resounding boom and scattering splinters across the section.

You jumped back, falling into your friends laps, and Gus shrieked like a banshee, his face blanching white at how close it had come to taking his head clean off his shoulders.

An ear-splitting whistle interrupted the resulting chaos.

“Weasley, out!” Madame Hootch hollered.

You straightened in alarm, finding George hovering at the center of the pitch, his bat gripped tightly in his hand. His eyes were locked on Gus, dark and smug, a smirk tugging at the edges of his mouth.

“George, land!” Wood bellowed, and George finally floated back to earth. You could hear Oliver shouting, but couldn't see George from your seat.

You fought your way out of the stands, trying to push your way towards the locker room.

Gryffindor was booing the call, chanting “Weasley!” at the top of their lungs. Without George, unless Harry caught the snitch, the match was basically forfeit.

Your mind raced from the adrenaline. Did George do it on purpose? And if he did, why would he jeopardize the match like that?

You found him in the locker room, undoing the ties on his robe. He was still in his uniform, sweaty and smeared with dirt, his hair flat from the helmet.

“George,” you said, and he looked up.

“Love, what are you doing down here?” He frowned, reaching for you, but you held your ground, crossing your arms over your chest. His frown deepened.

“Did you do that on purpose?” You demanded.

“Of course I did,” he responded, not a trace of hesitation in his voice.

“Why? They won't win without you!”

“I don't care about the bloody match, y/n.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

George walked over to you, cradling your face in his gloved hands. “That guy was bothering you, yeah?”

You almost denied it, but found yourself nodding, unable to lie to him.

“And you thought I was going to sit back and let someone make you uncomfortable? My girl? Fuck no.”

You giggled, his protectiveness spurring a wave of affection and dissolving your anger. “I think nearly killing him was a bit much,” you snickered.

“Are you questioning my aim?”

“Just your sanity.”

He pinched your cheeks together in his still gloved hand, shaking you slightly. “I'll always protect you, brat. And if that makes me a madman, so be it.”

You swatted his hands away before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him down for kiss. He tasted of salt and peppermints, his skin smelling of turf and fresh air, with a hint of that masculine musk that made your head go a little fuzzy.

He kissed you back, catching your lower lip between his teeth and sucking gently. You moaned against him, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth and taste you.

“I'm done hiding,” he murmured when you both came up for air. “And Wood can bugger off.”

The mixing shouting of the crowd filled the quiet air around you. “Ravenclaw scores another twenty points!” Lee declared, his voice notably unenthused.

George shook his head with a smug chuckle, leaning his forehead against yours. “See? They need me.”

“Weasley!” Oliver shouted, startling you both. George looked up, tightening his grip around you. Oliver didn't even bother to act surprised. “You're back in,” he sighed.

A grin split George's handsome face, making your heart flutter.

“Good man,” he replied, dropping a peck onto your lips before doing his helmet and running back out onto the pitch to the roar of the crowd.

“Weasley! Weasley! Weasley!”

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Thank you so much for reading!

If you enjoyed, you can check out my published work here.

© agreeeeeeeeeee 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[f1-mcmuffin]

Hiii! Can i ask you to make a one shot where Alexandra and Rebecca (no hate for them obvi) are jealous of Lando's girlfriend because she is loved by all drivers or because their boyfriends do not pda like Lando.

You can make 2 one shots if you don't want to make this two together.

(Ps Lando is very in love with his girlfriend and she is the bestfriend of the 2 Lilys)

Please please please make one of this, i requested this at other 2 blog and they don't make it...🥲🥲🥲

If you write that. THANK YOU SOOOOO MUUUCHHHH🥰😍

Jealousy, Jealousy

Lando Norris Masterlist | Main Masterlist

A/n: hopefully it's the way you like, if not send me a request and I'll post again, and 123 followers omg thank you all so much

The paddock was alive with the usual buzz before the race, drivers and teams preparing for the day ahead but there was an undercurrent of tension in the air, one that only a few could feel, and Alexandra and Rebecca were the ones most attuned to it. They exchanged a glance as they observed the scene in front of them.

She stood in the center of a group of drivers, a smile on her face as she laughed at something Daniel Ricciardo had just said. Lando stood next to her, his arm slung casually around her waist, his fingers tracing circles on her skin as they exchanged whispered words. 

The energy between them was palpable, and it wasn’t just the fact that Lando Norris was openly in love with his girlfriend. He was always touchy with her, always affectionate in a way that had begun to make waves in the paddock. It was how he wasn’t shy about showing it. He kissed her forehead in front of the cameras, pulled her close in the middle of interviews, and made sure the world knew she was his, every single moment of the day.

The other drivers—Max, Charles, George, and even Lewis—often looked on with a mix of admiration and amusement. It was no secret that she was well-loved among them. She was funny, smart, and always had a way of making everyone feel comfortable. But for Alexandra and Rebecca, it was something more.

It was the way she was loved.

Alexandra crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. "I just don’t get it," she muttered, half to herself, half to Rebecca, who was standing a few paces away.

Rebecca arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Alexandra nodded toward her, who was now wrapped in Lando’s arms, their heads close together as they whispered something to each other. "Her," Alexandra said, bitterness creeping into her tone. "She’s just… everywhere. She’s got them all wrapped around her finger. Look at Lando—he’s obsessed with her and then there’s the Lilys, always around her too. It’s like… the entire paddock just revolves around her."

Rebecca snorted, a sound that was more dismissive than anything else. "Right? And don’t even get me started on how they act around her. It’s like… she’s their golden girl or something. When’s the last time you saw a driver act like that with us? I can’t even remember the last time Carlos did anything remotely close to that in public."

Alexandra's eyes flickered to the side, where Lando stood with his arms crossed, talking to Pierre. He wasn’t touching her, wasn’t even looking her way. For the briefest moment, she felt the sting of that distance. It wasn’t anything new, but seeing Lando and her so effortlessly affectionate only highlighted it more.

"We should try that," Rebecca muttered, though there was no real enthusiasm in her voice. "You know, public displays of affection. Maybe they'd wake up and realize we’re here, too."

Alexandra shook her head. "It’s not just that. It’s the way everyone loves her. It’s like they can’t help themselves and not just the drivers—fans too. Have you seen how they go on about her on social media? She’s everywhere."

Rebecca’s lips pressed into a thin line as she glanced over at her again, catching her laughing with Lando. Her jealousy was palpable, but she wasn’t about to admit it out loud. "She’s not even that special. I mean, come on. What makes her so great?"

Alexandra shrugged, her eyes still locked on her and Lando. "I don’t know. It’s like she’s this perfect little package—smart, pretty, always so bubbly, and then Lando just makes it worse by acting like she’s his world. No one else has it like that."

Rebecca let out a sharp breath and rolled her eyes. "It’s so over the top. I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was trying to prove something."

They both watched as Lando whispered something in her ear, causing her to giggle and swat at his arm. The way she responded—it wasn’t just affection; it was an ease, a comfort that was so natural, it made everything else around them seem almost forced.

Alexandra's fingers curled into her arms, and she bit her lip. "I don’t think I’ll ever understand it."

Rebecca’s gaze turned to her once again, and she couldn’t deny the envy that bubbled up inside her. It wasn’t just about the PDA—it was about everything. She had somehow become the center of it all, and it made her want to scream.

"I hate how they just... have it. They’re the couple everyone roots for, and we’re just… us."

Alexandra tilted her head toward her friend, noting the tone in her voice. "You think we could be that? Like, with our boyfriends?"

Rebecca considered it for a moment, her jaw tightening. "I don’t know. Maybe we’re just not as... perfect as she is."

A silence fell over them, thick and unspoken, both women lost in their own thoughts. It wasn’t just jealousy—it was frustration. The attention she seemed to effortlessly attract, the love she garnered without even trying, was a sharp reminder of their own struggles in relationships, of the distance they felt from the men they loved.

Meanwhile, she was completely unaware of the undercurrents brewing around her. Her attention was fixed solely on Lando, the way his fingers lightly traced over her hand, how his eyes sparkled when they met hers. It was like they were in their own little world, and for a brief moment, nothing else seemed to matter. 

The Lilys were nearby, laughing and sharing some inside joke they all had together, their connection obvious. Everyone was captivated by her, and it was as if nothing could break the siren spell she had cast over the entire grid.

Lando leaned down, whispering something else in her ear. She blushed, her hand reaching up to touch his cheek. The intimacy between them was so apparent, so natural, that it almost felt like everyone else had faded into the background. Their connection wasn’t just public—it was inescapable, unavoidable.

She smiled, blissfully content in her little bubble, unaware that for some, her happiness was the very thing they longed for.

Rebecca glanced sideways at Alexandra again, her voice low but laced with frustration. "Do you think she knows? How much do they all... love her?"

Alexandra’s voice was quiet, almost thoughtful. "I don’t know. She probably doesn’t even realize how much it affects us. How it feels like we’re invisible sometimes."

"Right," Rebecca agreed. "Like we’re just... not enough."

Lando and her casual affection didn’t go unnoticed by others. Even in the rare moments when they weren’t physically touching, there was an undeniable pull between them. A few drivers who were in earshot exchanged knowing glances, but the attention they received didn’t seem to faze Lando. He was completely immersed in her, and she, in turn, was absorbed in him.

As the race preparations continued, Alexandra and Rebecca found themselves watching, more entranced by the affection between Lando and her than they’d like to admit. The jealousy wasn’t just about public displays—it was the constant reminder that their own relationships never quite measured up. The way Lando made her feel seen, adored, cherished—none of them had ever felt that way in the same way.

Alexandra sighed and straightened, breaking the silence. "I don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to be jealous of her but I can’t help it."

Rebecca didn’t say anything at first, her gaze still fixed on the couple in front of them. It was a deep, quiet pain that neither of them had been able to shake off since they’d first noticed how much attention she attracted. They weren’t just jealous of her relationship—they were jealous of the ease with which she made it all look.

"Do you think we could ever be like them?" Alexandra asked, her voice low, tinged with both hope and uncertainty.

Rebecca shifted on the bench, crossing her arms. "What do you mean? You mean... them? PDA-ing everywhere and making everyone uncomfortable?"

Alexandra bit her lip, glancing over at the couple. "Not exactly but... you know. The way they are with each other. They make everyone around them feel like they’re the only two people in the world. It just... it feels real, right?"

Rebecca looked skeptical, her brow furrowing as she glanced at her boyfriend, Carlos Sainz, who was deep in conversation with a few other drivers. "Maybe, but I don’t think we could do that. It’s not... us. Besides, our boyfriends don’t act like Lando. You know how Carlos is—he’s always so reserved. I mean he’s goofy but still reserved."

Alexandra sighed, her eyes drifting toward Charles Leclerc, who was at the other end of the paddock, talking to a few mechanics. She tried to imagine them in the same scenario—Lando and her, so open and carefree and then Charles, who kept his emotions locked tight behind a mask of calm.

"Yeah, I know but that doesn’t mean we can’t try, right? I mean, we’re always playing the cool, collected girlfriend act. Maybe it’s time for a change."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "You want us to try and do what they’re doing? Be all touchy-feely and PDA-y, like we’ve got something to prove?"

Alexandra’s voice softened as she thought about it, her gaze lingering on Charles, who was now smiling at something one of the engineers had said. "I just... I want to feel seen. Like they do. Lando makes it so obvious how much he loves her. And I know that’s not everything, but sometimes I wish Charles would do more. He’s... distant, and I’m starting to wonder if it’s because I’m not enough."

Rebecca’s lips pressed together. She had the same insecurities but wasn’t quite ready to admit them aloud. "I know what you mean. All Carlos does is hold my hand to walk me through the paddock, sometimes not at all. I feel like I’m just a trophy girlfriend to him when we’re at the track but when he’s with the other drivers, it’s like he’s a completely different person."

There was a pause, both women lost in their thoughts. They both knew their boyfriends loved them in their own way but there was something about the attention and affection Lando and her shared that felt so undeniable, so effortless, and it made them feel as though their relationships were somehow lacking.

Alexandra stood up abruptly. "You know what? Let’s just do it. Let’s go over there, act like we mean it, and see how they respond. We need to show them we can be just as affectionate. We’ll be the ones everyone talks about."

Rebecca hesitated for a moment, but the feeling of frustration and longing was enough to push her forward. "Alright. Let’s try it."

They approached Carlos and Charles, who were now standing together near a quiet corner of the paddock. The sight of them standing side by side made Alexandra and Rebecca feel a little more confident. If they could just find the courage to replicate what they had seen in her and Lando’s relationship, they might finally feel seen.

"Hey," Alexandra said, her voice just a little too high-pitched as she approached Charles. She leaned in, placing a hand on his shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Charles gave her a small smile but didn’t move, his posture still stiff. "Hey, everything okay?"

"Yeah," Alexandra replied, forcing a smile. "I just thought... maybe we could have a little more fun today. You know, like, just let go a little. It’s not all about the race, right?"

Before Charles could respond, she reached up and put her arm around his neck, pulling him closer. The move was clumsy, too forced, and Charles immediately stiffened under her touch. He glanced around, clearly uncomfortable.

"Alex, baby," he began, his voice hesitant. "What are you doing?"

"Just... you know, being affectionate," she said quickly, trying to make it sound casual. "Lando and Y/n do it all the time."

Charles’s eyes flickered to Lando and her, who were now in the midst of another affectionate exchange. He looked back at Alexandra, a little unsure of what to do next.

"I don’t think that’s really... necessary," he said, his tone soft but firm. "I’m not... I’m not really into all that PDA. You know that."

Alexandra’s smile faltered as she tried to read his expression. "But don’t you want to show people we’re together? Like... like them?"

Charles ran a hand through his hair, his eyes darting to the side as if searching for an escape. "We don’t need to prove anything to anyone, Alex. I’m with you. That’s enough."

Alexandra felt a sharp pang in her chest. She had thought that maybe, just maybe, trying to show more affection would change something, but it only seemed to make Charles pull further away.

Meanwhile, Rebecca had attempted the same with Carlos, trying to get him to wrap an arm around her waist. But Carlos, too, had stiffened under her touch. "Rebecca, I don’t think this is a good idea," he said, his voice quieter than usual, a little hesitant. "You know I’m not a big fan of doing this in public."

"But why not?" Rebecca asked, almost desperate. "Why can’t we just act like we’re in love the way Lando and Y/n do? Why does it have to be so complicated?"

Carlos looked around, clearly uncomfortable with the attention they were starting to gather. "We’re in a race paddock, Rebecca. We don’t need to put on a show."

The words hit harder than she expected. It wasn’t that Carlos didn’t love her; she knew he did. But the kind of affection she craved—the public displays, the hand-holding, the constant reassurance—was something he couldn’t give her. Not in the way she needed.

Both Alexandra and Rebecca pulled away, feeling the weight of their failed attempts to recreate something they had seen in her relationship. It wasn’t that they wanted to be them; it was just that they wanted to feel loved—seen and acknowledged in the same way.

They stood in silence for a few moments, the awkwardness between them thickening, as they realized that maybe their relationships just weren’t built the same way as theirs was.

"I guess... I guess some things just aren’t meant to be forced," Alexandra muttered, her voice soft.

Rebecca nodded, her eyes downcast. "Yeah. I guess."

The words were left hanging in the air as they turned to walk away, each woman reflecting on the differences in their relationships. Despite their insecurities, they knew deep down that love didn’t always look the same. But for just a moment, the girls couldn’t help but wish for love that was as obvious as the one her and Lando shared.

Once the race was over, the usual post-race celebrations had begun to wind down. The paddock was buzzing with the energy of success and disappointment, but for Alexandra and Rebecca, there was a quiet weight that hung between them. They had both tried to force something that wasn’t there, and now they found themselves standing in the shadows of the team garages, the crowd around them a world away.

Alexandra leaned against the cold metal wall, arms crossed, her eyes cast downward. She had hoped that showing more affection would somehow change things, but it had only made her feel worse. The uncomfortable silence that followed her attempt at PDA with Charles lingered in her mind, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she was the one in the wrong. Maybe she had expected too much.

Rebecca stood beside her, arms folded tightly across her chest as if she were protecting herself. The tension in her posture mirrored Alexandra’s, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

"You know," Alexandra finally said, breaking the silence, her voice low and hesitant, "I thought I could change things. I thought... if I just showed Charles that I wanted more of what her and Lando have, things would feel different. But now it just feels... forced. Like I’m trying too hard."

Rebecca didn’t look at her, but she could hear the vulnerability in her friend’s voice. It made her realize that she had been holding onto her own feelings for far too long.

"I get it," Rebecca said softly. "I tried to do the same with Carlos. I thought maybe if I was more like them, more open, more... affectionate, he’d finally see me the way I want him to. But all I got was awkwardness." She exhaled sharply, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. "I feel like I’m invisible when I’m around him sometimes. Like I’m just... there. But not really there, you know?"

Alexandra nodded slowly, her chest tightening with the weight of the unspoken emotions she had kept hidden. "Yeah. I feel the same way with Charles. He’s so distant. I know he loves me, but I just want him to show it more. To... want to show it. I want to feel special. But when I try to get close, it’s like I’m pushing him away."

Rebecca shifted uncomfortably, finally turning to face her friend. "It’s not like I’m asking Carlos to be Lando, but... sometimes I just want to know he cares. I want him to make me feel... wanted. But it always feels like he’s holding back. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong."

Alexandra looked at her, her heart aching with empathy. "You’re not doing anything wrong, Rebecca. I think... maybe we’ve been measuring our relationships against something else—against her and Lando, against what everyone else seems to have. But... maybe what we have isn’t supposed to look like theirs."

The words hung in the air, and for the first time, Alexandra felt the tension begin to loosen in her chest. "I just wanted to be seen, you know? Like... really seen. Not just as the girlfriend, but as someone who matters to them, the way they matter to us."

Rebecca let out a quiet breath, a mixture of relief and sadness. "I think we all want that. But maybe we’re looking for it in the wrong places. Maybe Charles and Carlos... they show us they care in ways we don’t always notice because we’re too busy looking for something else. Something we think we need."

Alexandra sighed, her eyes drifting to the empty space around them. "It’s hard. Especially when you see what Lando and her have. They just... make it look so easy. So perfect. And it makes you wonder if you’re just not enough. If maybe they’re right to be so out there, but maybe we just need something more... personal. More quiet."

Rebecca thought for a moment, her gaze now fixed on the ground. "Yeah. I don’t need Carlos to be Lando, and I don’t need Charles to be that way either. I think I just need them to show me... in their own way... that I’m not invisible. That I matter. Even if it’s not perfect like them."

"Exactly," Alexandra said quietly. "We just need to stop comparing our relationships to theirs. It’s not fair to anyone. Not to them, and not to us."

They started walking through the paddock in silence.

"You think they know how much they’ve made us feel this way?" Rebecca asked, breaking the silence with a soft chuckle.

Alexandra shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I don’t think they have a clue."

Rebecca laughed, a sound that was light and free, a welcome release from the tension that had built up over the past few days. "Well, I’m glad I'm not the only one who feels like this," she said with a wink. "Maybe it’s time to stop trying to be something we’re not. And maybe we can just... be with them the way we are. No forced PDA. No comparisons."

Alexandra smiled fully now, the weight lifting from her chest as she nodded in agreement. "Yeah. No more pretending. Let’s just... be us. And if they love us, it’s going to be enough."

Rebecca placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "You know, I think we’re going to be okay."

"Yeah," Alexandra replied, her voice firm with newfound conviction. "We will be."

------

NO HATE TO ALEXANDRA OR REBECCA. This is strictly fictional

[tomsparkyr]

𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒!

following episode two of ‘inside’ — george clarke x fem!reader

by any means i do not own 'inside' and all credit is theirs (!!)

(ps, thank u all sm for the love on the first part, these take me yonks to write so seeing all ur comments makes me want to cry i love u all sm🤍🤍🤍)

(pps, i’d appreciate it if no one stole my work! i put a lot of time and effort into this and to see people crediting it as their own isn’t a nice feeling !!!)

wc: 6.9K

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”Hello, Motherfuckers!”

You groaned and reached up to rub your eyes as the rattling voice of JJ woke everyone up from their slumber. 

You tried to bring your right hand up to wipe the sleep out of your eye, but found the weight of another person’s hand entangled with your own. George’s fingers were intertwined with yours and didn’t falter his grip on them as he slowly rose from his bed, a duvet wrapped around his naked torso.

You really did try to not stare… But watching him lean over the bed to grab something situated underneath the frame, and seeing the duvet fall to reveal that he was only clad in shorts, and taking in the fact that he was gripping onto your hand as if you could slip away from him at any time; you really and truly couldn’t help yourself.

It was painfully obvious that George was holding your hand the entire night, waking up in a position that both of your bodies had maneuvered closer to the edge of the bed, basically hanging off in a pitiful attempt to be closer to one another. 

Catching yourself blushing first thing in the morning, you reluctantly detached your hand from George’s and yanked the duvet up to cover half your face, hiding the rose tinted cheeks. 

“Get your ass up!” JJ’s voice echoed around the room, hearing complaints from everyone around you.

George sat up, “That is the worst noise in the morning.” He whined. His hand flexed slightly as if he was searching for your hand still; but as his mind woke up too, he pulled his hand back from where it was dangling off the side of his bed.

You sat upright, eyes squinting from the bright light that flickered on. You stared forwards for a moment in a daze, the tiredness running straight through you as you dreaded the day to come.

An arm outstretched to you and you recoginsed the calloused fingers. Looking up, you saw George with messy bed hair, squinted eyes and a half-hearted smile etched across his face. You smiled softly back at him and accepted his hand.

He lifted you out of the bed and you leaned into his side once you were up. Still tired, you swayed slightly, causing George to wrap an arm around your shoulders, tugging you closer to him so that you could feel his body warmth.

You sighed at the feeling and allowed your head to settle into his chest, his hand that wasn’t wrapped around you coming up to stroke some flyaway hairs from being fresh out of bed. “You alright?” He whispered, leaning down slightly. You looked up to meet his eyes and nodded, “Just tired.”

You rested in George’s hold for a while, neither wanting to move away so resorted to standing and swaying back and forth in each other's arms momentarily. Neither of you were speaking, just enjoying each other’s company as everyone made their beds in the morning.

Farah watched you and George in the centre of the room, nudging Milli and pointing at the two of you. Milli had known George for a while before they entered the show together, and she had never seen George so touchy with anyone in his entire life, especially in front of so many people he didn’t know. Milli and Farah quietly laughed to each other before calling you, “Y/N! Are you coming for breakfast?”

Peeling yourself out of George’s grasp, you turned to face the two girls and reluctantly nodded, letting go of George and striding towards them. As you turned away, George pressed a quick kiss on the top of your forehead and bidding a promise he’ll see you in the shop any minute from now.

Milli and Farah walked you down to the shop where breakfast was laid for you (you couldn’t decipher if this was a good or bad thing). 

Seeing 12 pots of food lined up, Mandi asked the question that was on everyones lips, “What is that?” You furrowed your brows and picked up one of the pots, opening the lid and smelling it.

Retracting rather quickly, you turned to face the small group. “It’s porridge.” You groaned, followed by the sound of everyone else replicating you.

You watched as everyone loitered near the camera to confirm any upgrades or drinks, cringing as the money began dropping significantly. Mandi found herself the spokesperson as she confirmed more orders.

You turned to Cinna, who seemed to be matching the irritated facial expression you wore, “Do we really need all that?” You mumbled to her, hoping no one would hear. You felt a tap on your shoulder and Mandi (who had obviously heard you) said, “I can get what I fucking want.” You’re sure it was meant to come across jokingly and she meant no harm, but you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as you feared Mandi turning everyone against you on only the second day.

Feeling awkward, you left the shop area and strolled back into the living room. There you spotted George sitting on one of the beanbags on the floor, arms resting behind his head as his legs were outstretched. 

He turned his head towards the doorway as you entered and a smile immediately appeared on his face.

George noticed your frown and urged you to come sit with him. You plopped yourself down just in front of him, your back to his chest as he tugged you so you rested between his legs comfortably. “What happened?” He questioned.

You sighed, “Nothing, I’m just being dramatic.” You forced a laugh out but George read you so easily. Sensing something was wrong, he leaned forward and plucked the cold porridge from your hands that you had previously been playing with the fork provided. “Tell me.” His concern grew.

You shook your head, “No, it genuinely is just stupid though--” “Nothing you could ever say would be stupid.” George encouraged you. He never liked hearing you subtly throw daggers at yourself like that, so did everything in his power to reassure you that you were perfect; he wishes you could see yourself the way he sees you.

Giving in, you said, “It was just Mandi. I know she was joking or whatever, but she kind of just shut me down in front of everyone; it was more that I was embarrassed than anything she did.” You mumbled, not liking confrontation and admitting stuff.

George watched your face contort into frustration as you told your story, understanding you and happy you told him your feelings (although he wishes it was the other feelings).

“No, I get it. It won’t be until everyone sees the prize fund after today that maybe they’ll slow down on the purchases, then you’ll be proved right.” He winked at you, smiling as you laughed at him and lightly jutted out an elbow to playfully hit him.

You leaned forwards and out of his touch, turning around and resting on your knees in front of him, face to face. You smiled back at him and whispered a small, “Thank you.” As he shrugged nonchalantly.

You held eye-contact with George for a moment, the air in the room suddenly feeling a lot thicker; you watched as George’s eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. The tension in the room changing momentarily, “Y/N, I--”

“George! Y/N! Come to the shop with me?” Cinna shouted from the main area, hearing her footsteps bound towards the living room. 

The interruption caused you and George to stand up and make some ground between the two of you, embarrassed and cheeks tainted red. His hands came up to run through his hair and you could only wish that you were the one doing that.

As Cinna’s head poked round the corner to the living room, she was confused about the amount of space between you and George as most of the time you two were attached to the hip. “Shop?” She questioned again.

You nodded, “Yeah, sure.” And started walking towards the girl. Then, looking back at George who was standing still with his eyes focused on the floor in front of him, “George?” His head snapped up to meet your eyes. “You coming?”

George nodded frantically and shook his head of running thoughts; scared that his feelings and confessions nearly slipped past his tongue after you simply looked at him. He had no idea how he was going to last 6 more days of this without finding a new way to fall in love (as if he wasn’t already in deep).

You passed PK in the shower, oblivious to the fact that he was using hot water. Thinking he was in the clear as George walked towards him before giving him a fist pump. 

George followed you and Cinna into the shop as she ranted about the prices and coffee scenario. 

While she was talking about the prices, you felt George lurking behind you. You extended the hand that was hanging by your side behind you, fingers outstretched. George saw this and read your mind, his hand slipping into yours and intertwining your fingers; his thumb stroking the back of your hand. Neither of you looked at each other in fear of drawing attention to the pair of you, keeping your secret moments within the crowded room.

“What are you doing in here?” Milli stalked in the room behind you, quickly retracting your hand from George’s; and he reached the hand that was previously holding yours to run his hand through his mullet in an attempt to be nonchalant.

Milli noticed you and George step away from each other and smirked as it was so obvious she had interrupted something; knowing she needed to talk to you later about this situationship with George.

“No, we’re not ordering. We’re saying if she ordered tea and then left it, and it looked like it had milk in it.” Cinna responded, trying to calculate the cost that others had spent already so early into the day.

“They spent a lot of money.” DDG confirmed in suspicion, saying what you were all thinking.

Cinna asked you all if she should purchase the items, opting for a more logical route and a better way of saving money. 

time skip!

You were all sitting in a circle on the floor, you between George and Mya. You were all sitting cross legged and trying not to laugh out loud at Patrice as he presented to the group. “If someone speak when you start to meditate, we vote him out.” The group chuckled and agreed.

Jason began speaking, “Take a deep breath. Close your eyes.” You obliged and suppressed a smile as your knees brushed against George’s.

“Five seconds of silent real quick.” You started to laugh but covered it up with a cough. “Envision yourself with a waterfall.”

“Think of how the water sounds.” You felt wafted of air in your direction and opened your eyes to see George pretending to be splashed by the water. You silently laughed at him and shook your head, an idea creeping in your head.

As Jason continued with his meditation, you placed your hands on George’s shoulders and shoved him lightly, envisioning that you shoved him into the waterfall. George’s eyes snapped open as he yelped, his head turning to see you laughing at him. Seeing this, Mya burst out into laughter and high-fived you as George peered on in mock offence, a smile trying to creep its way onto his face.

Patrice opened his eyes and sighed, “That’s it. They’re out.” Everyone began laughing and you all stood up. 

George looked at you with his offended face still etched onto his features, you laughed and tapped Mya’s shoulders to show her, she giggled and gripped onto your hand in doing so. 

George shook his head and bounded towards you, “That’s it.” He gripped onto your waist and slung your figure over his shoulder, tapping the back of your thighs as he stormed out of the room with you in his arms. You and the rest of the group laughed as he exited with you, hearing you shout from help echoing throughout the rooms. 

Now you and George had left the room, Patrice pointed at the door you had previously been taken out of, “They’re together, no?”

Everyone chuckled and shook their heads, shocked that you and George weren’t together after knowing each other for so long and with that much chemistry. Farah put her hands up in a shrugging gesture, “Apprently not.”

Hearing this, Patrice stopped in his step and turned to face everyone with a shocked face and eyes wide, “Eh?”

time skip!

���Are you sure? Do you think he’s the one?” You stood behind Mya, hands coating in gel as you helped her slick it back further for her ‘wedding’ with PK. Reapplying some powder on her face, she smiled at you through your reflection in her mirror, “I think he’s the one, guys.”

“Are you blind?” Mandi called out making you all laugh, she passed you some of her makeup you asked to borrow off her in the event being a ‘special occasion’.

Finishing with Mya’s hair, you sat down next to Mandi and propped your legs up on her lap, feeling any nerves or awkwardness from earlier directed at her gone now; deciding you felt like you overreacted (although George would tell you otherwise).

Once you had all finished with the bride’s final preparations, you excited the room and stood with the other girls, all facing PK and DDG standing at the ‘altar’. You and Milli stood next to each other at the front, you being closer to the aisle; you definitely felt the closest with Milli, from her fangirling over you for the first 24 hours, you two had formed a close bond in such a short time period.

You turned around to see George entering with a cushion in his hands, trying not to burst out laughing as he walked down the aisle. You stuck your foot out to trip him up as he walked forwards, falling for it and stumbling slightly. You covered your mouth with your hands to stop laughing as Milli hid her face in your shoulder to do the same. You watched George turn and face you with a wide smile on his face before he lifted the cushion he was holding to whack you in the face lightly with it. Farah and Whitney behind you folding with laughter at the pair of you, before PK called you out for taking the spotlight on his wedding day; mumbling something along the lines of, “Should’ve been yours if George grew the balls to ask you out.”

George’s eyes widened as he was the only one who heard it, lifted his cushion again to threaten hitting him with it, PK jumped and laughed as George made his way to his position within the wedding.

After the… beautiful ceremony, Mya and PK headed for the exit before Whitney reminded them to complete the bouquet toss. Mya turned around with a wide smile and raised brows before launching the bouquet straight at you without warning, the force and sudden movement causing you to put your hands up in defence and accidentally catching it in the process. 

The girls all screamed around you and jumped around, hitting your arms as you stood still in shock. You stared at George who looked at you with wide eyes and his mouth open slightly. All the boys behind him began cheering and shoved George forwards towards you, causing him to stumble into your figure and grasping your waist to keep you both upright.

Both of your cheeks were burning red as neither of you looked directly at each other in fear of embarrassing yourselves. Everyone around you clapped and you heard Patrice shouting in the background, “Next thing you know it a baby Clarke will be on the way!”

You buried your face in George’s chest, hiding your red face while George’s hand stroked the back of your head, twirling your hair in his fingers. George made eye contact with DDG and Jason as they stood behind you, making wild gestures and urging George to kiss you; him shaking his head rapidly, keeping your head against him in fear of you turning around and seeing the boys.

time skip!

You stood in the challenge area, watching intently as Ethan listed off the rules and expectations of today’s challenge; this being Don’t Make A Sound.

You had to suppress your giggles as Milli and DDG stood opposite each other, a tray of cake presented in front of them, with a stupid sling hung around their heads. 

George stood behind you, his chest brushing your back as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet; an occasional rub up and down on your arm as he comforted and relieved your nerves as you knew you would have to eventually have a turn up there.

You had to cover your mouth and hold your nose to stop yourself from laughing out loud as Milli had a cake projected onto her face from DDG full brute force. Behind you, George had his hands resting on the back of his head, so you could feel the vibrations of his chest as he laughed quietly on your back; you tried to not feel giddy but you couldn’t help it.

Seeing DDG place a massive cake into Milli’s sling made you gasp behind your hand, not loud enough to set off the noise detector, but Whitney had you covered in that department. You watched in horror and amusement as DDG leaned back and propelled the cake directly into Milli’s face, causing her to stumble back and fall to the floor.

You couldn’t help it this time as you snorted in laughter behind your hands, your eyes immediately widening as you feared you were too loud; looking over at Ethan and seeing his disapproving stare and shake of the head confirmed your suspicions.

“Right. That is your challenge complete.” Ethan said after calming down from his fit of laughter. “And I have some important information for you guys.” You rolled your head back and turned to face George who held the same guilty look you had.

“George, Y/N, Whitney and Farah have broken the rules.” George gasped as he thought initially that he wasn’t as loud as he’d come across. “£10,000 has been deducted from the prize fund.” Your mouth fell open wide, eyebrows furrowing as George pinched the bridge of his nose.

You would pat yourself on the back for the way you managed to suppress your laughter in PK’s challenge, having to grip onto George for dear life to stop you falling to the ground in hysterics.

Once he had completed his challenge, you had brought your hands together to applaud him, only getting about two claps in before George shoved a hand inbetween yours to stop the sound, but it was already too late considering Milli had gotten the same idea as you. You tilted your head to see George’s eyes wide before he lulled his head back in frustration and buried it in the space between your neck and shoulder, whispering about how that was too loud.

You and Milli both held the same guilty expression and face flushed from embarrassment, also mentally battling about who was going to tell PK that they had ruined his challenge for the group. 

Ethan smirked at you and Milli, slowly wiggling his finger mockingly. After telling PK to take his glasses off, Ethan exposed you and Milli, “Now, I can inform you that within that round, there was a rule break.”

You slowly looked away from the group, the ceiling suddenly much more interesting as you felt a hot flush creep up your neck. “Y/N and Milli, looking awfully embarrassed there.” The entire group's focus shifted onto you two, some holding disappointed expressions.

Ethan continues, “However, because of your amazing flavour with some of those, we’re gonna allow it.” You sighed silently and the tension in your shoulders released. George pulled back from your neck and pressed both hands on your shoulders as his height loomed over you, slowly massaging into the skin to reassure you; slightly melting into his contact.

When Cinna was selected to face the shocks you had endured last round, you sent her a look of apology knowing how bad it hurt before. You walked over to her as she was being set up, pressing a soft kiss on the side of her head as she linked arms with you momentarily, whispering a soft “Thank you.” before walking back to your place in front of George.

You cringed slightly at Cinna and Jason’s challenge, an uncomfortable watch but you couldn’t help but smile and chuckle behind your hand as they jerked in odd positions; also wondering if you had looked that weird doing it the first time.

After the excruciating watch, you gave a thumbs up to Cinna as she crouched down in relief; not before Mandi didn’t grasp the full instructions of the game. “I thought we were going to be here until fucking tomorrow, man.” She exclaimed.

Everyone’s head snapped around to face her, you even waved your arms to stop her talking in your best efforts to save her and the group. She saw your terrified face and covered her mouth in shock and regret, she gestured around and mouthed some words none of you could make out. “There’s no fucking way. The challenge was over!” She exclaimed again.

Ethan held up two fingers to her, you gave her a sympathetic look, understanding that if you were as much of an extrovert as she was, you would have warranted the same reaction. 

Ethan cleared his throat after congratulating Cinna and Jason, “However, Mandi. I’m going to deduct £20,000 from the pot for two violations.” You all gasped in shock and put your head in your hands.

Swiftly moving on, Mandi and Patrice stood up with chicken toys put into their mouths and elastic bands situated around their calves. You looked up at George who sported a boyish grin, bouncing on his feet clearly excited at the prospect of this challenge.

You couldn’t help but laugh at this one. It got you so much at your body folded laughing that you needed to cling onto George to stop yourself from falling to the floor; although this didn’t work.

You swung your head back in laughter and covered your mouth, legs giving way as you stumbled back and fell into the prop set behind you. George tried to stick an arm out to catch you but he was too late as your back collided with the bookshelf, and books lost its footing on the shelves and fell onto your head.

You held your head in both pain and hysterics, the noise and your laughter both combining to bail you out of the challenge and most definitely lose you £10,000 in the process. George’s eyes widened in amusement and concern, his hands immediately pressing into the spot where the books had hit and rubbing it softly. He stood tall and pressed a light kiss on the spot before turning to see an eagerly awaiting Ethan to expose the reduction in prize money.

Sighing, he said, “Whitney, Milli, George and well, obviously Y/N,” You closed your eyes in embarrassment as Cinna rubbed her hand against your arm in a supportive manner. “You have made a sound, which means we will deduct £10,000 from the prize fund.”

Finally, it was your challenge. You had to pie who you think the statement applies to most, nerves bubbled in your stomach as you knew this would end in an awkward confrontation.

Farah stood up first and her card read, ‘Which Insider do you think is the fakest?’ She winced at the question, off to a bad start.

She scanned the group stood in a line wondering who’s feelings would be hurt the least if she pied. She didn’t know everyone particularly well, but picked nonetheless, an explanation on the tip of her tongue as soon as the challenge was over; she could picture herself running to them and apologising profusely.

You were surprised when Farah pointed at you, making you depart from the line with a frown etched onto your face. You subtly glanced at the card that was lying upright on the table and read the prompt, brows furrowing and heart sinking a little bit; did people actually perceive you like that?

Farah tilted her head sympathetically at you, pondering her thoughts as she reared up to pie you. She attempted to do it lightly at first but Ethan, being the little bitch he was, told her she had to smash it into your face or it wouldn’t qualify.

You winked at Farah to tell her it was alright to do the challenge, not wanting her to feel guilty about it when money was at stake, she smiled back at you. 

Suddenly, a pie was heavily collided with your face and you stumbled back slightly; the cream flying everywhere and covering your entire face as some of the remaints flicked onto George in the background as he bit his fist to stop himself from bursting out in laughter. 

You wiped your eyes off the remaints and walked back to your original spot with a joking sour facial expression. Noticing George was enjoying this far too much, you lightly brushed your hand against his face, smearing cream down from his forehead to his cheeks. He laughed quietly at you as you kissed your teeth with your tongue.

Ethan passed you a towel and you saw Farah looking over at you with a guilty face. Walking over to her, you wrapped her into a hug and patted the back of her head in further reassurance; Farah silently thanked that she chose you because you handled it like a pro.

In Mya’s turn, she pied Dylan for having the deadest jokes. Whitney pied Patriced after a quick hug, being the footballer, she probably guessed right that he earned the most money. Dylan then brutally pied Farah, everyone gasping at the full force he went into it with. Farah, on some level, thought it was karma for what she did to you.

Then it was your turn, you lifted the pie to read the card, ‘Which Insider do you think is the best in bed?’ You opened your mouth in shock and mouthed a “What the fuck?” to Ethan who laughed out loud; causing the people around you to look at each other and shrug their shoulders as they didn’t know the statement you had just read.

You looked at the group in front of you, a pie settled in your hand as your eyes scanned everyones (but you already knew who you were going to pick).

Licking your lips, you pointed at George causing him to smile and point a finger to himself in question, you nodded slowly with a smirk attached to your face. George walked up to you, causing you to look up due to the height difference and bite back a laugh before you swung your arm up to pie his face.

You didn’t hit him too hard, but due to the excessive cream, it had covered his face and splattered on the props behind him. He didn’t stumble back but took it like a champ, seeing his smile behind the cream. You walked up to him after dropping what was left of the pie to the floor and cupped his face with your hands. Your thumbs brushed over his eyes and wiped away the cream, mouthing endless apologies through quiet giggles; him leaning down to pull you into a tight hug, not caring about the mess as you had been previously pied. 

Before you pulled away from his embrace, you heard him whisper to you (not loud enough for it to be picked up by the detector) “That better have been a good card, and you realise you’re telling me what it is later?” 

Your cheeks burned red and you shook your head at him, brushing past him as his touch lingered for longer; leaving him with the last pie.

George leaned down to pick up the pie, reading the card: ‘Which Insider do you fancy the most here?’

George raised his eyebrows and looked over at Ethan next to him, seeing his smug smirk and a quick winked indicated that this question was written for one person and one person only.

George didn’t even think or consider other options as he immediately pointed at you, causing you to drop your smile in shock, mouthing “Me?”

He nodded at you eagerly, a grin plastered onto his face as he adjusted you in the centre of the room, ready to pie. You squeezed your eyes shut tight, preparing for impact. But when it didn’t come, you peeked open one eye just in time to see George do a full 180 to smash the pie into Ethan’s face.

You all gasped in shock, George walked backwards to stand next to you and wrapped an arm around your waist, turning his head away to rest his cheek against the side of your head, hiding his laugh from the rest of the group; them being too preoccupied with utter shock at what he just did. Everyone seemed proud of him, not caring too much about the consequence as of yet.

You leaned into George’s touch, hands covering your mouth to suppress your laughter and burying your head into George’s chest. Your arm snaked around his waist also, clinging onto the white fabric of his top as you silently thanked him for not pieing you two times in one round. You looked up at him to find him already staring at you, “Thank you.” You whispered, pressing a light kiss on the skin exposed just below the sleeve of his shirt.

Ethan wiped the pie away from his face, “Right. This one will be taken to VAR. We’re possibly looking at a five-match ban. Serious intent of foul play.” George pressed a fist to his mouth to suppress his laughter. “George, after serious foul play, we’re going to have to deduct £20,000 from the prize fund.”

You laughed at his shocked reaction, feeling him tug you closer to him. Ethan pointed at you two, “Don’t go hugging your girlfriend, you’ve just got a red card in a cup final, George!” Both yours and George’s eyes widened and separated from each other's touch; the group laughed and Whitney had to cover Mandi’s mouth to stop her from laughing out loud.

time skip!

You and George found yourselves sitting on the couch in the living room, sitting on opposite ends of the couch but your legs were draped over his and his hand rested on your shin. You felt his gaze on you which caused you to look over at him. “What do you want?” You grinned at him, questioning his staring issue.

George licked his lips, “I wanna know what your card was earlier.” He urged. You raised your brows, making it seem like you were contemplating your answer, jutting your lips out and humming, before saying with certainty, “Not a chance.”

You stood up and headed for the island in the kitchen area, George remaining unmoved on the couch, arms resting on the back of his head and legs kicked back in utter relaxation. “Come on! Just tell me. Please?” He begged.

You filled your water bottle up, your back to him, “No, George. I’m not saying.” You tried to make an exit to visit Cinna or Milli, their whereabouts seeming more interesting than telling George you think he’s good in bed. 

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” George stated.

You froze in the doorway, slowly turning around to face him with your lips between your teeth. “Really?” 

“Dead serious.” He smiled as you stantered back to him, led on the couch, perching on the end closest to him. 

You tilted your head, “You have to tell me yours first, then I’ll tell you mine.” You confirmed your answer on conditions. George went to protest, “That’s so not fair--” “Then no deal.” You raised your brows with a smirk on your face.

George sighed and leaned his head back onto the back of the couch, “Fine,” You stared at him as his eyes searched yours with seriousness. “I was asked to pie the Insider I fancied the most.”

Your eyes widened and you couldn’t help but smile, “You’re joking.” George shook his head with pink dust sprinkles on his cheeks, “I’m not.” You stayed in silence for a moment, unsure how to respond to his statement apart from calming the butterflies that were wiring in your stomach.

George’s hand tapped your thigh, “Now, tell me yours.” You swallowed hard, standing up. “Anyways, I’m off.”

“No! Hey, you said--” George threw his hands in the air causing you to turn around laughing, “I’m kidding!”

George sighed and patted the spot you were previously sitting in, obliging, you sat and stared at him. “Do you really wanna know?” You questioned him.

His eyes stared intently into yours, “So badly.” Your stomach flipped at his tone of voice, “You can’t tell anyone.” He shook his head, “No one.” Giving in, you said, “I was asked to pie the Insider who I think would be the best in bed.” You didn’t break eye-contact with him. 

George’s eyebrows raised and a smirk made its way onto his face, there was something raw and real etched behind his eyes, you couldn’t decipher what it was, but you needed it. “Really?” He replicated your words from earlier.

You nodded at him while he smirked, “Well, I guess we’ll have to test that theory.” 

Your cheeks burned red as you took in his words, feeling a hot flush run through you, the rest of the world feeling foggy as if it was only you and George. If you were anywhere but the Inside house right now, your hoodie and joggers would have been discarded on the floor similar to his own.

George started to lean in closer to your face, a hand reaching out to cup your face; before Farah bounded in, “Y/N, I’m so sorry for what I did earlier! I didn’t mean it!”

You gasped and stood up out of George’s touch, shaking off the moment and walking up to Farah; George walking past you and bidding you a soft goodbye, you watched his figure leave the room with a soft gaze.

Farah stopped her rant to you, clearly reading the situation and understanding that you were busy admiring a certain boy in the house. “What the fuck was that?” She laughed, pointing at where George had left.

You quickly shushed the girl and dragged her to the corner where the table tennis stayed, “Oh, my God! Shut up! He can hear!” You whisper-shouted with wide eyes. Farah only laughed more, “Did I just walk into the start of a porno movie?”

Your mouth dropped open, “Farah!” She slapped the table tennis table with a booming laugh, folding over as you wore a horrified facial expression.

interview room!

“Yeah, that was definitely… interesting! Picking who I think is an absolute beast in bed on my second day was not what I was expecting but games the game!”

“George’s comment or statement is… cool? I don’t know what you want me to say! I’m just as shocked as you are! Yeah, we’ll see what happens from here… I guess.”

“I wasn’t too bothered about the fakest comment from Farah. Sure, it was hurtful in the moment but after thinking about it for a while, you sort of just have to suck it up because these people don’t know me fully yet, well apart from George, but they’re all in here for the same reason and I can’t hate them for playing the game!”

time skip!

“Y/N! Why are you in the shop?” You heard George shouting from the shop area. Your brows furrowed; you in the shop? Your belongings? 

Confused, you walked down the steps to see George laughing to himself in the shop, he outstretched his arm to wrap his hand around your wrist, tugging you into the room and closer to the screen. “See there.” He pointed at the items.

“A Horny Beast?” You rolled your eyes as George snorted in laughter, you mocked his laugh and yanked your wrist out of his grip, leaving the shop and passing everyone in the process.

“What was it?” PK asked you. You tried not to smile or laugh and rather act nonchalant, “Just go see for yourself.” You jutted your thumb back to the shop where George’s laugh could be heard still.

George called your name to come back into the room, Cinna grabbed the back of your hoodie and yanked you back to the shop. George smiled, “Six and a half grand for a horny beast.”

He slung his arm around your shoulder, “Why pay for one when we already have one here for free?” He laughed and tapped his fingers underneath your chin. Your mouth dropped open and playfully pushed his hand away but his grip on your shoulders kept you grounded in his touch.

George managed to suss out the concept of the horny beast, clarifying that it would be a teddy with horns on it. His suspicions came true when the group walked back into the living room holding a stuffed teddy, “It was exactly what I said it would be!” He exclaimed with wild gestures.

Milli held the teddy up high before lobbing it into your arms, “Y/N, it’s your spirit animal!” You caught it with a laugh before hugging it close to your chest. PK mumbled next to you, “Keep it away from George, I don’t wanna see any bed sheets rustling tonight.” You kicked his shin lightly as a subtle way to tell him to shut up.

time skip!

Later in the evening, George challenged you to a table tennis tournament; you were still running on the high of beating him yesterday so were reluctant for a rematch (though you didn’t need much convincing when he flashed you that smile).

“Whoever wins needs to buy the other something in the shop.” You declared at the start of the game, confident that you would win if there was something at stake.

After atleast 10 minutes of the round, you sighed and rested your hand on your knees in defeat as George was comfortable winning, “George, you were meant to let me win!” You flapped your hands about, groaning at his smug face. “10-6, bitch.” He swayed on the spot.

You served the ball with a groan, and straight off the bat, when George’s pass back came to you, you immediately missed the entire ball. You dropped the bat in horror and rested your elbows onto the table with your head in your hands. George started jumping around in excitement, leaping onto the couch with pure joy before sprinting back to you.

He hoisted you up in his arms bridal style, causing you to yelp and wrap your arms around the back of his neck as he began jogging to the shop with you in his arms; shouting in the process, “I just love table tennis!”

Once you reached the shop, George kept you in his arms and readjusted you so you sat higher, fingers tapping the side of your knee in excitement. You ran your fingers in the mullet on the back of his head, causing him to sigh into your touch before scanning the menu.

“What do you want--” You began speaking before the door opened to show three cups of something waiting to be picked up. George placed you down on the floor as he looked at you in surprise. Bursting out into laughter, you stressed your innocence, “That wasn’t me!”

George held an amused face, “Who was that?” He took the drinks into the living room, shouting in the process, “Some drinks have just popped out in the fucking shop!” You trailed behind him, sitting down on the couch again as Whitney jogged down to the shop.

After a long day, everyone gathered in the bedrooms. You all loitered around George’s bed for a while, chatting about the day and the plans for tomorrow; opting to save money.

You had curled into a ball on George’s bed, your head resting on his stomach as his fingers played with your hair, the horny beast hugged tight in your arms. You blocked out the sound of people chattering and closed your eyes to rest for a moment.

For what was meant to be a moment, you ended up drifting to sleep on George’s bed before the lights dimmed. Patrice pointed at your sleeping figure on George, “You want help moving her?” George shook his head, eyes trained on you. 

“No, no. Leave her. She can stay here tonight.” He brushed a piece of your hair away from your face to see your sleeping figure, utter relaxation and breaths slow in content. He smiled at you and traced the bridge of your nose with his finger, “She can stay.”

hope u liked also appreciate the love so so so so much

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[rottenherbs]

Lover

Pairing: F.W x Reader Request: “It sounds so cliche, but my request involves Taylor Swift's Lover song — I think this scene of mine might be fitting around the time of GoF for the yule ball scene and his long hair era. And on behalf of the reader's house, it's really up to you, but I would say her demeanor is a shy or a lone type of girl that prefers to avoid attention and crowded places at all cost (for the sake of the plot 🥲). And because of this, it took some time for Fred to eventually notice her, but when he did, she got him wrapped around her fingers entirely just by existing. Word Count: W/C: 3.2k A/N: Ravenclaw was chosen! Though I must say it is not mentioned frequently so reader! Could be easily manipulated to be Hufflepuff or Slytherin. I also think playing the song once the Yule Ball scene starts is ACTUALLY so cute. Thank you so much for requesting <3 [masterlist] Much Love, Saige

Unbelievable. Your mother has sent yet another letter through the post asking about what you were going to wear to the Yule Ball. It was not your definition of fun…perse, but that was only because you knew no one was going to ask you. Even just the thought of going stag made your hands shake.

Sitting in the great hall alone, you hesitated to open it. The thought of being berated yet again to ‘gain some courage’ or ‘go with a friend’ just frustrated you slightly. You knew your mother didn’t understand your social anxiety or lack of relationships at school, but reading the words felt like a stab in the gut. You set it to the side as you finished your jam and toast, relishing in the morning light. After a few minutes, you took a deep breath, picking back up the envelope slowly.

A boisterous crowd entered the great hall catching your attention; letter still in hand. Their scarlet and gold uniforms almost gave it away before their fiery red hair did. As they walked, they laughed and hit each other on the back, plopping themself into the gryffindor table just a few feet away. Luckily for you, they sat with their backs turned; but even then you could recognize which twin was which. Fred often would whip the dangling hair in front of his face with his head, while George would tuck the hair quickly behind his ears. Their movements mirrored each other in many ways, even the food they grabbed as they built their breakfast plates, but something made you see Fred differently.

After a few moments you looked away, embarrassed at yourself for staring. You held the letter in your hands, slipping your nail under the fold opening it delicately. In her usual fashion, your mother wrote on beautiful blue cardstock, a small drawing of an eagle, sloppily, yet endearingly, on the envelope.

Flipping it open, it read;

“Darling, I know you have read the last two letters I have sent. I know it seems daunting to go to a school dance but you wont regret it. Life is short. Whether or not you get asked should not hold you back from having a good time by yourself.

I love you.

Please don't hesitate to write back~~

Ps. I hope the owl dropped off a sack with this letter. Maybe you could use it to find a nice dress on my behalf.”

Just as you finished the letter, a small owl dropped a sack of coins on top of your empty plate, sending crumbs all over the table. With a small chirp, the owl flew away leaving you alone once more. You sat there for a moment, letter still in hand, looking at the cloth of coins in front of you. Exhaling, you thought over the possibilities of going to the ball. Could you muster up enough confidence to go? What if someone did ask you? You sighed lightly, conflicted with the letter and your own mental gymnastics. Fiddling with the coin sack, you made a mental note to write your mother back after class today.

Glancing over at the twins, you started daydreaming. The idea of being asked by Fred romantically at the Yule Ball, being swept away to the dance floor just as a slow dance started, what the smell of his cologne would be like, how tall he would be with you in his arms, how he would lean down to kiss yo-

Breaking you from your trance, a large old owl barreled through the postal entrance, hitting several candles on its way down. The eyes of all students in the great hall followed the train wreck as it dive bombed towards the gryffindor table.

“Errol! No!” George yelled. The bird hit the table, dropping a large parcel while knocking over several drinks and meals in the process. Your hand flew to your mouth, stifling a laugh as the chaos ensued. You watched the twins attempt to clean the area, opening the box, shooting the bird off quickly.

“Oy, looks like this ones for our little brother.” Fred chuffed, shoving the box down the table towards Ron. A ghastly red dress suit with ancient frills could be seen from miles away. As the table enveloped in laughter and disbelief, you cleared your plate gathering your belongings in your arms, quietly leaving the great hall without a trace; the thought of being whisked away by a certain tall suiter is still fresh in your mind.

———-

Over the weekend before the ball, you decided to shop around Hogsmeade in one last ditch attempt to find something you felt comfortable in. If you didn’t find something today, you were not going at all.

Wrapping your neck tightly with a scarf, you topped your head with earmuffs ready to face the elements. Snow crested the hills and paths; crunching softly under your feet.

Just ahead, two ginger boys formed snowballs in their hands, one sending it up in the air while the other attempted to hit it down with another snow ball. They frolicked and played, stopping students who walked passed.

As you got closer, you crossed your fingers; praying they would let you go through without acknowledging your presence. Of course you dreamed of kissing Fred in your free time, but the idea of him even perceiving you sent shivers down your spine. Walking with your head held down, you took one step after another, thinking if you just kept moving nothing would happen.

“Hey! Sorry to bother you.” You heard a voice shout just to your left. You stopped in your tracks, eyes widening. Please don't be talking to me. Please don't be tal-

“Hey! Wait, sorry.” Fred's voice got closer with each step. You gulped, turning to face him, a small polite smile across your face. Your hands held each other in your hoodie, gripping your coin pouch tightly in any attempt to calm your nerves.

“Could you settle a debate? We could use an outside interpretation of something.” He gestured towards George just off the path. You made eye contact with George, waving you over. The words were caught in your throat. You attempted to find a response.

What could you say?

You stumbled over words, stuttering slightly before huffing and just nodding your head in agreement.

“Great! You wont regret it.” Fred said, pulling you over to George. “I think…” He added, just under his breath. Your arm was intertwined with his for only a moment as he pulled you to the side. George walked up to you both, a smile plastered from ear to ear. You suddenly became aware of what was happening, stopping in your tracks.

”I swear if you are pranking me.” You mumbled, brows furrowed. Fred stopped just a foot ahead of you, his eyes widening. His hands released your arm, holding his hands up in defense. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes glistened against the snow. His nose and cheeks red from the cold, sniffling slightly. He took a small step towards you shaking his head. Fred could feel the sudden apprehension from you, worried you thought they would do something cruel.

“No no I promise. Purely just need your opinion for our business.” Fred waited for a moment, both of your eyes attempting to read the emotion on the others. His heart fluttered as you looked over his face, suddenly taken aback by your beauty. His brain wracked any previous memory of you, in the hallways, or in class, at meals. He had never seen you before and it astonished him. He thought he knew everyone.

You didn’t respond, just a small smile building across your cheeks walking towards him with more confidence. George looked between you and Fred several times, already sensing something growing between the tension. George smirked but kept to himself, knowing he’d be able to inquire later.

“Simply put, we need a consensus of the general public, you see, from students we don't typically sell to, and that's where you come in” Fred gestured to a small box behind George, hidden in the snow. You fiddled lightly with the coins in your pocket, waiting for the big reveal. Fred leaned down, picking up the box and holding it in front of you.

“Now. Just tell me which item you would be more compelled to buy.” Opening it slowly, two large spheres wrapped in foil laid neatly in the box; one gold, one silver. You leaned in, trying to get a better look. The twins stood silent, awaiting your response.

”Gold.” You spoke, looking up at them both. They looked back at you, and then at each other for a moment. Fred nodded in acknowledgment, his bottom lip out slightly almost as if he was impressed by your answer. He closed the box quickly and turned to George. Their movements were fast and abrupt, taking you by surprise. They slid the box in a satchel, Fred lifting the strap over his head and across his torso.

“Thank you so much for your participation.” George dramatically bowed, Fred following. Fred glanced up at you as he leaned, winking at you before he looked back down. Your heart raced, standing still. As they rose, you stayed silent, just watching the way they proceeded, mesmerized by how Fred kept looking your way.

“We will keep in touch.” Fred whispered, turning on his heel and walking away with George. You stood alone for a moment, watching them both go down the path back to the castle. You looked around in disbelief, not sure what happened. Turning back towards hogsmeade, you couldn't stop replaying the conversation, the way he held your arm even for a moment. Maybe you were more inclined to go to the ball, the thought of seeing Fred there made it more appealing.

———- ((Lover By Taylor Swift))————-

The day had arrived and you couldn't be more tense. Like you had thought, no one had asked you to the dance, yet a part of you was happy that you could come and go at your leisure. You told yourself if it was a terrible idea, you could come back to your room and end the night early.

You sat in front of your mirror applying makeup to the best of your ability. You slipped on your gown, struggling to zip the back up, jumping around in any attempt to shimmy up the zipper. After a few minutes of bouncing and movement, you successfully adjusted the dress, looking at yourself in the mirror.

Slightly shocked in the confidence it brought you, you admired the way the dress sat on your hips and flowed to the floor; a slight swish as you moved left to right. Taking a deep breath in, you slipped on your shoes and practiced walking around your bedroom before leaving and heading out to the common room. Many of your peers all dressed in bronze and blue, a slight nod to your house colors. You could feel the tension in the room as students paired up with their partners, walking awkwardly together out of the common room. It seemed more people were more nervous than you thought, reminding you that it was just a bunch of teenagers going to a dance. Conversations in the hall were light; students attempting to participate in small talk, many stumbling over their words, fingers grabbing each other. The nerves were almost palpable coming off the students the closer you all got to the great hall.

Following the crowd, you arrived at the great hall, your hands held tightly together with your clutch, finding it to be a great fidget as your heart raced harder. Students from all houses joined together outside the great hall, not yet entering as they met and chatted with friends. The large group made you hesitate, moving through it slowly to enter the exquisitely decorated room.

You almost couldn’t recognize it. The large tables and benches were replaced with several tall round tables. Beautifully decorated christmas trees lined the walls. Snow fell from the ceiling, magically disappearing before it hit your head. You smiled, turning in a circle taking it all in. The room was beginning to fill, still giving you time to become comfortable in the space before the event started.

Fred was outside in the large crowd, watching you as you passed. He noticed you as you turned the corner, the first thing catching his eyes was your gold dress. His hands shook slightly, gripping the edge of his coat pulling it lightly. Ever since you caught his attention by hogsmeade, George hadn’t stopped teasing the way that Fred talked about you. His mind was constantly elsewhere, not able to focus on their pranks or schoolwork. As much as it annoyed George with how distant Fred was, he knew how smitten he had become and he was happy for his brother.

“You alright mate?” George whispered, noticing how Freds eyes followed you through the crowd. Fred didn’t respond, just sighed and looked at the floor.

“I’m lost Georgie. I don't know what I'm doing here.” Fred whined, his hands shoved deeply in his pant pockets. George rolled his eyes, nudging Fred over in your direction.

“She showed. That’s all you were moaning about all week! Just go talk to her. You did it once before.” George whispered, gesturing towards the entrance. “If you don't ask her, I just might.” George added, a cheeky grin growing across his face.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Fred furrowed his brows, his voice husky and dark. George just laughed, shaking his head.

“No way. That’s all you.” He patted Fred’s shoulder, pushing him towards the great hall, physically prodding him to take the next step. Fred stumbled slightly, taking a deep breath in before attempting to walk in casually.

You took a table close to the stage, sipping a small glass of punch. Glancing at the clock, you noticed a familiar redhead enter the room, your breath hitching in your throat. Almost choking on your drink, you turned and faced the front, trying to look distracted in the band setting up. You held the glass lightly, not letting your agitation show in your body language. You were cool, calm, and collected. Right?

It felt like minutes passed before Fred joined you at your table. Your back facing the entrance, not aware of his presence. He stood for a moment, admiring you from behind, the way your hair laid on your shoulders, how your back was exposed and glistened under the lights from above. He swore he could feel how soft your skin was, even from feet away, his fingers itching to know how you’d react if he reached out right then.

Instead, he cleared his throat, garnering your attention. Your eyes meet with him in a soft embrace. His chest swelled, the feeling of his body tingling just by looking at you. You smiled at him, leaning your arms on the table leaning over slightly.

“Hey.” You blushed softly, inexplicably happy to see him. Fred took a step closer to you, looking at the stage for a second. “Looks like you kept your word.” You added, looking at the band with him. His elbows leaned on the table, his muscles relaxing slightly.

“I'll always keep my word.” He cooed, looking back at you. Every time you made eye contact his brain went blank. He was entranced every time he laid eyes on you. He swore it could’ve been 20 seconds or 20 years, yet he felt under your spell.

“So. Who’s the lucky lady with you tonight?” You asked, lifting your cup to your lips. Part of you hated that you asked, but you’d rather rip the bandaid off now than be in emotional torment all night. The thought of watching him dance with someone else made you sick, but who wouldn’t ask Fred Weasley to the dance.

Fred cleared his throat, surprised by your question.

“Um..” His hand raised to the back of his head, ruffling his hair. “I may have just come for the experience. See where the night takes me.” He smiled down at the table, his eyes unable to meet yours. You nodded your head, feeling of relief rushing over your whole body. You set the cup down, both of your hands only inches apart.

“Huh…. Me too.” You mumbled, smiling at your drink. You swore you saw Fred bite his lip, but he quickly coughed, ducking his head into his elbow. You laughed, watching him regain his balance. He patted his chest dramatically, his hand now outstretched towards you.

“Please, may I get you a refill m’lady?” His voice was dramatic yet sincere, making your stomach flip. You chuckled, your hand reaching up to your lips, thinking for a moment. You reached down, handing over the glass. Both of your hands meet, the feeling of his fingers overlapping yours sending bolts of electricity through your body. Both of your eyes met each other, your hands still touching each other, as if time had stopped. He reached further, holding your hand over the glass entirely.

”Ill be back.” He smiled, your hand releasing the cup into his. Your cheeks were flush, the touch of his fingers still reminiscent of your hand. As much as you’d love a drink, you hated the idea of him leaving, even for just a moment.

“Can i go where you go?” You asked softly, your eyes bouncing between his. Fred swore he would walk across hot coals barefoot in order to hear you say that again. He felt like he could tear down mountains to get you a refill of punch. He couldn't believe what he heard. His empty hand reached down enveloping yours, the feeling so natural and warm. He pulled you lightly, walking ahead of you through the crowd.

Walking across the great hall, you swore the entire school was watching you both, the feeling surreal and uncomfortable, but all you could think about was the boy pulling you forward, hand in hand, just to get you some another drink.

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

Take me out

Take me home

Your my my my my my

Lover

[saintslewis]

𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

- drabble.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black! fem reader

summary: reader will never let the paddock forget who Lewis Hamilton is.

warnings: cussing.

saint’s team radio 🪩: this is just a lil something. I was pissed tf off yesterday because of some lewis “fans” and i will never miss an opportunity to let ppl know who my goat is 🫦. enjoy

ps, i’m not adding actual reporter’s names for this so i made up random names.

taglist: @mauvecherie-writes @perfecttrashface @non-stop-imagines @emjayewrites @purplelewlew @hopefulromantic1 @motheroffae @exotic-iris13 @httpsserene @queenshikongo3 @greedyjudge2 @cocobutterqwueen

-

The tag from your denim jacket had been irritating you since the second you put it on but you chose to forget about it, often adjusting it with your nails or a little shimmy of your shoulders.

Holding the mic from Sky Sports F1 wasn’t all too odd for you, the broadcast team only handing it to you when talking about Lewis and his achievements. Your support for the Stevenage driver was strong, often being as labelled as biased but you couldn’t care less. The support was mutual between the two of you, usually lingering on the line of friendship but doubt and time was always against you.

Your sunglasses sat on your braided head with a bored expression on your face, just wanting to get this segment over with so that you could go back to your individual blogging and interviews. Standing patiently in front of the cameras while other reporters ran around unorganised, you played with your beaded ‘44’ bracelet.

“My goodness, Y/n! I have no clue how you are so calm, this is always so hard!” One of them exclaimed, laughing in the process. “Not to mention the outfit! You look like you could go to a party!” Another laughed, her smile faltering when your eyes snapped to her, expression never changing.

After a while, the segment began and off the reporters went on a scripted tangent about other teams before getting to the main topic; Lewis. “Now, onto a different subject, Lewis Hamilton’s performance in that car has been nothing short of a…disaster if I could say.” Jimmy said, deciding to look at you as he spoke. Almost as if he was challenging you.

“For a specific race weekend or overall? His teammate, George is doing significantly better. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, it’s like he doesn’t know how to drive.” Jennifer spoke, poorly making an attempt of a joke.

“I’m not too sure why you’re speaking as if he is a rookie. You lot can see that Mercedes hasn’t been doing well as a collective yet you’re targeting one driver who has brought then 8 constructer titles rather than the other who has one win.” Lifting your mic, you spoke with a clear voice, never stuttering.

Frank shook his head and tried to chuckle. “Look Y/n. We understand he’s your boyfriend or whatever but we need to be factual here. What Ferrari has done is a mistake by signing him. I mean, there needs to be more space for others and he’s taking up space.”

“And Alonso’s dusty ass doesn’t need to leave? Using my support for Lewis to try and justify your dislike for him is unprofessional. I have no clue how you have the gumption to say all this.” You responded, still not moving from your spot.

The other 4 reporters stared at you in shock along with other people stopping in the paddock, surrounding the space just in front of the official f1 hospitality suite.

“There’s no need to use aggressive language, Y/n.” Jennifer lifted her hand to place on your shoulder but you moved away in time. “Aggressive for who?” You challenged, tilting your head.

It had gotten quite. “The viewers. It’s not a lie, Lewis is just not good anymore. He needs to make space.” One of them spoke up but you couldn’t be bothered to listen to anyone else other than Frank, your eyes trained on him.

“What? We need to speak with the producers, having an independent journalist was a mistake.” Frank smirked.

“You can take your opinion and shove it up your ass. Thanks for having me, Sky Sports F1.” You turned to the camera to blow a kiss then you gave the mic you were holding to whoever would catch it.

Walking away from the set, you knew what you did was undeniably unprofessional but those people had always had a vendetta against Lewis and any reporter/journalist who support him. Breathing out, you sashayed your way through the paddock with people staring as your braids glided in the slight breeze.

The buzz of your phone shook you out of your racing mind, a little gasp escaping your mouth as you read the notification from instagram.

lewishamilton no joke, that was the best thing i’ve ever seen. glad we have that interview together in 5 minutes :)

You first looked around the paddock after reading that message but you figured that he watched it live just like everyone else did. Your anger for that segment had clouded your thoughts so much, you forgot about the interview you were supposed to have with the champion.

Rushing to the large luxurious paddock club, you received all types of looks from those who either clearly watched the broadcast live or they’re looking at your outfit, although the latter was made up in your mind.

Luckily, he hadn’t arrived to the designated room you booked to have the interview with him but as soon as you got your phone out to record and your notes, the screams and excitement were heard from outside the door and a smile couldn’t help but sneak on your face.

You have only interviewed him three times in your entire career but every time you did so, he never wanted it to end, always trying to make it longer by asking his own questions to you or just sharing a laugh.

With security opening the door for him, he entered the room and spotted you with a smile on his face. He entered alone in the mercedes shirt already on. No words needed to spoken by either of you, Lewis opening his arms for a hug to greet you. Once in his embrace, you thought it’d be quick but to your surprise, it lasted a few moments longer.

“Hi Y/n.” Lewis spoke, a hand still on your shoulder. You took a quick breath and immediately relaxed on the spot. “Hey Lewis.”

“Your response to Sky was insane but I liked it.” He chuckled, sitting across from you with his legs open and a ring clad hand sat comfortably on his lap.

You didn’t want to show him how the sight affected you especially when your emotions are sky high so you remained calm on the outside. “It’s just…I’m pretty sure I lost my job just now because of how I reacted.” You sighed out, flicking a few braids back.

“Some of them had said worse things so you’re okay.” Lewis responded, his tone wasn’t all too sure but he just wanted to lift your mood. “Yeah but I’m black. They used micro aggressions too.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at everything once recalling back to that moment.

“I heard. I’ll have a word with Sky.” He reassured you. “Oooh okay, Sir.” You joked, masking how the reassurance made your stomach flutter. You’d like to think he was openly flirting with you but you quickly put that thought at the back of your mind.

“I just don’t want those people to forget who you are, you know? I’m sure you hear this all the time. You know what you’re doing and you’re the best at it. I wanna remind the people who the goat is.” You rambled a bit, noticing his smile growing as he listened to you.

“You’re too kind, really. I know what I am, it’s just a little tough right now.” He shrugged as he fully leaned back into his seat. “If you need me to fight anybody in your team, let me know.” You winked, flashing a comical smile that made Lewis laugh.

Giving you a once over, Lewis leaned forward and rested his tatted arms on his knees. “You look good today. You always do but today…phenomenal.” He spoke, his voice noticeably relaxed. “Don’t make me blush, Sir.” You smiled, failing terribly at hiding your feeling.

“That nickname, Y/n,” He chuckled. “Is that door locked?” He asked. All you had to do was nod at the man and Lewis smirked, licking his lips in the process.

“C’mere.”

saint’s notes 🪩: slightly rushed, george pissed me off, hope you enjoyed. bye. <3

[dracomalfoy7]

New Heights

Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader 

Summary: Y/N is a year older than Fred and after not seeing him all summer Fred’s growth spurt becomes…a surprise.

Word Count: 2.2k+

Warnings: Fluff, Swearingish?

A/N: Been back on Harry Potter TikTok and there are some good POV’s so I'm writing them for you guys ;) gif isn't mine. PS. My Request are open!.

You have always been close with the Weasley family. Your mom was best friends with Molly, so your summers were practically spent at the Burrow. You loved the chaos of it all—Percy with his nose in a book, Fred and George constantly trying to out-prank each other, Ginny tagging along with the boys, and Ron being the easy target of his older brothers' tricks. But it was Percy you were closest to. Only a year younger than him, you and Percy shared a unique bond. While everyone else was wild and adventurous, the two of you spent countless hours with him reading and you flying on your broom. Of course, you both loved to scheme against Fred and George whenever the opportunity arose.

When you finally got your letter to Hogwarts, you were ecstatic. Percy was already there, and you couldn’t wait to be sorted into Gryffindor and spend your school days together just like you had spent your summers. That didn’t happen, though. The Sorting Hat placed you in Slytherin. You were devastated at first, but it didn’t take long to realize that being in different houses didn’t change anything. You still spent every free moment with Percy, and more often than not, that meant time with his family as well.

That was how it had always been—until this past summer. When you were offered a spot in the exclusive quidditch camp. Though the decision wasn’t easy, Percy, being the ever-logical best friend he was, insisted you take the opportunity. "We'll always be here," he'd said. "But this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance."

And so, you went. The summer flew by in a whirlwind of practices, matches, and drills. You barely had time to write home, and when you returned to Hogwarts, it felt like you'd been gone for ages.

Percy greeted you at the train station with a tight hug, rambling on about his summer adventures. "Penelope Clearwater and I spent a lot of time together," he said with a small blush. You smiled, happy that Percy had found someone to share his time with. Then he continued, telling you all about the pranks Fred and George had pulled on Ron, and how Ginny had grown more into her own.

As the two of you walked into the Great Hall, you couldn't help but notice how different it felt coming back. Percy steered you towards the Gryffindor table where the rest of the Weasleys were sitting. Your heart lifted when you saw them—Ginny, Ron, George, Fred. They stood up to greet you, and you smiled warmly at them.

But then your gaze landed on Fred.

He turned to face you, and you froze for a moment, not believing your eyes. The Fred Weasley you had last seen before summer had changed—dramatically.

He had grown. A lot.

Fred Weasley turned toward you and stood up. The last time you'd seen him, he had been your typical gangly teenage boy, all limbs and grins. But now... well, now he was towering over your 5’3" frame. His shoulders had broadened over the summer, his face had lost its boyish roundness, and there was a new confidence about him that made your stomach flip unexpectedly.

"Y/N!" Fred grinned down at you, his voice a bit deeper than you remembered too. He enveloped you in a tight, friendly hug, the warmth of him surrounding you in a way that was strangely comforting and yet disorienting all at once.

"You’re taller," was the first thing you said when he pulled away, still looking up at him in disbelief.

Fred’s grin widened, mischief flickering in his eyes. "Noticed, did you?"

George piped up from behind him, laughing. "Fred n' I had a bit of a growth spurt, haven’t we? Over the summer, we especially him shot up like a bloody tree."

"Yeah, had a bit of a growth spurt," Fred said casually, though the amusement in his eyes suggested he was reveling in your reaction. "Quidditch does that to you."

"Quidditch?" you echoed, still staring up at him in disbelief.

"Yeah, been practicing loads this summer," Fred explained, crossing his arms over his chest. "George and I are aiming for professional teams once we’re done here."

You nodded, but your thoughts were still swirling. How had Fred changed so much in just one summer? It wasn’t just the height or the broader shoulders; there was something different about him. He seemed more... grown up.

"Y/N, you’re staring," Percy’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see him smirking at you, a knowing glint in his eyes.

Heat flooded your face. "I am not!" you protested, but Percy raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

Fred laughed, the sound deep and warm, and your stomach did another unexpected flip. "It’s alright, Y/N. You can stare all you want. I don't mind."

You felt a flutter of surprise, one you hadn’t expected. This wasn’t the Fred Weasley you remembered—this was someone else entirely.

Your brain tried to catch up with the change, but it was hard to shake the image of the Fred you’d known before. The one you’d spent years pranking, teasing, and playfully bickering with. You glanced back at Percy, who just gave you a knowing smirk. "It’s been quite the adjustment," Percy said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You turned back to Fred, and he winked at you. "Still shorter than you in spirit, though."

You found yourself laughing, but there was a nervous edge to it. What was this? Why did you suddenly feel…different around him? You’d known Fred since you were kids. You’d never felt this way before, not even a little. But now, standing in front of him, it was like someone had flipped a switch inside you.

"I suppose I’ll have to get used to looking up at you now," you said, trying to shake off the odd feeling.

Fred raised an eyebrow, his grin never faltering. "You’ll manage. If not, I’m happy to carry you around." He winked again, and this time, you felt your cheeks heat up.

Merlin, this was going to be a long year.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, but Fred's new height and presence stayed in the back of your mind. You tried to act normal—laughing with the others, catching up on everything you’d missed. But every time Fred spoke or laughed, you found yourself glancing his way, your heart giving a little lurch each time.

Later that evening, as you sat in the common room with Percy, you couldn’t help but bring it up.

"Did Fred always…well, has he always been…?"

"Tall?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. "Not until this summer. Why?"

You shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to explain it. "It’s just…different. He seems different."

Percy smiled knowingly. "You’re not the only one who's noticed. Ginny mentioned it too. The twins have always been a bit of prats, but now they got the looks to match."

You sighed, sinking deeper into the chair. "It’s just weird, I guess. I mean, I’ve known him forever, and now suddenly—"

"You fancy him," Percy finished, a teasing grin on his face.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly shook your head. "No, I don’t! I just…it’s weird, that’s all."

Percy chuckled. "Sure, whatever you say."

But as the days passed, you couldn’t shake the feeling. Fred’s growth spurt wasn’t the only thing that had changed. Something between you had shifted too. He was still the same mischievous, fun-loving prankster, but now, there was something else—a tension that hadn’t been there before.

You found yourself seeking him out more than usual, joining in on his and George’s pranks, laughing at his jokes just a little too hard. And Fred? Well, he didn’t seem to mind the extra attention. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it.

One evening, as you sat by the fireplace in the common room, Fred flopped down next to you, his long legs stretching out in front of him. He nudged your shoulder playfully. "You’ve been quiet today. Everything alright?"

You glanced at him, your heart doing that stupid lurching thing again. "Yeah, just…tired, I guess."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "You? Tired? Never thought I’d see the day."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help but smile. "Even I get tired sometimes."

He leaned back, resting his arm on the back of the couch behind you. "You know, if you ever need a break from Percy’s study marathons, George and I could use some help with a new prank we’re working on."

You tilted your head, curious. "What kind of prank?"

Fred’s grin turned devilish. "Oh, you’ll see. But it involves a lot of stink pellets and a certain Slytherin prefect."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You two are going to get expelled one of these days."

"Maybe," Fred said with a shrug. "But it’d be worth it."

There was a pause, and then Fred turned to you, his expression softening just a bit. "It’s good to have you back, Y/N. Summer wasn’t the same without you."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you looked down at your hands. "Yeah, it’s good to be back."

Fred nudged you again, this time more gently. "Don’t go running off to another Quidditch camp next summer, alright? We missed you."

You looked up at him, your breath catching slightly at the sincerity in his voice. "I missed you too, Fred."

And there it was—that stupid fluttery feeling again.

This was going to be a long, complicated year.

The first few weeks back at school were a blur of classes, quidditch practice, and catching up with friends. You were eager to get back into the rhythm of things, but you couldn’t shake the odd feeling that had settled in your chest since you’d seen Fred again. He was still the same Fred, still cracking jokes and pulling pranks with George, but now you found yourself noticing little things about him that you hadn’t before. The way his smile seemed to linger on you just a little longer than necessary, the way he always found a reason to sit next to you in the common room, the way your heart skipped a beat whenever his arm brushed against yours.

It was driving you crazy.

One evening, after quidditch practice, you found yourself heading back to the common room, only to be intercepted by Fred in the corridor. He grinned, blocking your path with an outstretched arm.

"Y/N, there you are," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I was beginning to think you were avoiding me."

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. "Avoiding you? Why would I do that?"

Fred shrugged, leaning casually against the wall. "Dunno. Just seems like you’ve been... distracted lately. Didn’t think my growth spurt would have that much of an effect on you."

Your cheeks flamed. "I—what? That’s ridiculous, Fred. I’m not—"

He cut you off with a laugh, stepping closer. "Relax, Y/N. I’m just messing with you."

You huffed, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing in your chest. "You’re always messing with me, Weasley."

Fred’s grin softened into something that looked almost... fond. "Yeah, well, that’s what I do best, isn’t it?"

You couldn’t argue with that. Fred had always been a tease, always finding ways to get under your skin. But now, it felt different. Now, his teasing sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and you weren’t sure how to handle it.

"You’re acting weird," you muttered, trying to avoid his gaze.

"Weird?" Fred repeated, feigning offense. "Me? Never."

You rolled your eyes, but before you could say anything else, Fred reached out and gently tugged on a strand of your hair. "Come on, Y/N," he said, his voice lower now, more serious. "You know I’ve always liked you, right?"

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared up at him, wide-eyed. "Liked me?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Fred nodded, his eyes searching yours. "Yeah. I mean, you’ve always been like... one of us. Part of the family. But this summer, I don’t know... I guess I realized I like you more than just... as part of the family."

Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. "Fred, I—"

He held up a hand, cutting you off. "You don’t have to say anything now. I just wanted you to know. But, if you want to go flying sometime... just the two of us, you know where to find me."

With that, Fred shot you one last grin, his eyes twinkling, before turning on his heel and sauntering down the corridor, leaving you standing there, stunned.

Your head was spinning, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Fred Weasley—Fred Weasley—had just told you he liked you. And not in the way you’d always thought, like a brother or a friend. No, this was something different, something that made your heart race and your palms sweat.

As you stood there in the empty corridor, you realized that maybe—just maybe—Fred wasn’t the only one whose feelings had changed over the summer.

Fred’s growth spurt had certainly been a surprise, but what surprised you even more was how much your own feelings had grown right alongside him. And now, as you made your way back to the common room, one thought echoed in your mind:

Maybe it was time to take Fred up on that flying offer.

[nickeverdeen]

No-Wands | Hermione Granger x fem!reader

Pairings: Hermione x reader (romantic), Ron x Hermione (platonic), Ron x reader (platonic), Molly x Hermione (platonic), Molly x reader (platonic), Molly x Ron (family)

Type of fic: Fluff

Warnings: Reader has a british slang ‘cause I couldn’t help myself

Summary: This year’s Christmas celebrations are at the Weasley’s and considering both you and Hermione are “muggle-born” Molly insisted you show her how to do Christmas cookies without magic.

Ps: Finding gifs for Hermione is so hard istg

——————

The Weasleys’ kitchen was alive with laughter and the warm, sugary scent of baking cookies. Molly Weasley stood by the counter, hands on her hips, watching with amusement as you, Hermione, and Ron wrestled with dough and bowls of flour. The day’s baking was well underway, though decidedly more chaotic than usual.

“Mum, I don’t see why we can’t just use magic,” Ron grumbled, though he was elbow-deep in mixing batter. His usual enthusiasm for Christmas seemed somewhat dimmed by the sheer effort of this no-wands rule.

You grinned at him from where you were rolling out a sheet of dough. “Where’s the fun in that? Besides, Molly wanted the full experience, yeah?”

Molly smiled warmly but stepped back, letting you take the reins. “I’ve always wondered how Muggles do all this. But I didn’t realize it was so… involved.”

“More satisfying this way,” Hermione said with a small, proud smile. She was carefully cutting out star shapes, her sleeves rolled up and her hair tied back in a loose bun.

“Exactly!” you chimed in, pressing a snowman-shaped cutter into the dough with a flourish. “Besides, Ron, you’ve got muscles from Quidditch. What’s a bit of stirring to you?”

“Ha, ha,” Ron said dryly, though you caught the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Hermione shot you an approving look, her brown eyes warm. It made your stomach do that familiar flip, even after months of dating her. The way she smiled at you—like you were the only one in the room—was enough to make your cheeks flush, though you quickly masked it by focusing on the dough.

“You’re blushing,” Ron teased, tossing a sprinkling of flour in your direction.

“Am not,” you retorted, dodging just in time. “Maybe you’re just embarrassed you can’t keep up, yeah?”

Hermione laughed, a soft, melodic sound that filled the room. “Don’t be too hard on him,” she said, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. “He’s doing well for his first baking session.”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Ron muttered, though his cheeks flushed slightly.

As the cookies baked, the three of you cleaned up—or tried to. Hermione took charge of organizing the cooling rack, while Ron focused on sneaking spoonfuls of leftover frosting. You caught him red-handed, swatting his arm playfully.

“Ron, you’re worse than a kid!” you said, your voice filled with mock exasperation.

“I’m testing it,” he protested, grinning.

“Test it once more, mate, and I’ll hex you myself—no wands rule or not.”

Molly chuckled in the background as she observed the scene, shaking her head fondly. “You lot are worse than Fred and George.”

“Thank you, Molly,” you said brightly, pretending to take it as a compliment.

As the first batch of cookies came out of the oven, Hermione stepped close to you, the edges of her flour-dusted apron brushing against yours. “You’re enjoying this far too much,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Can you blame me?” you said, grinning at her. “I’ve got you, cookies, and a brilliant excuse to laugh at Ron.”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks turned pink as she tried to suppress a smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” you teased, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her temple.

“Get a room,” Ron groaned from across the kitchen, though he didn’t sound particularly bothered.

“Already in one, cheers,” you shot back.

Hermione giggled, and you couldn’t help but grin at her, the chaos of the room fading for a moment as you took in the way her hair framed her face, her sleeves pushed up to reveal flour-smudged forearms, and the way she looked at you like you hung the stars.

The cookies were finally cooled and ready to be decorated. You and Hermione worked together, spreading icing and adding sprinkles, while Ron attempted a snowman that ended up looking more like a blob.

“It’s artistic,” Ron insisted.

“It’s terrifying,” Hermione countered, her tone light.

As the day wound down and the cookies were piled onto plates, Molly took a bite of one and beamed. “These are wonderful,” she said, her voice full of genuine delight.

You raised an imaginary wand, pointing it toward Hermione. “All credit goes to Hermione.”

Hermione shook her head but leaned into you, her shoulder brushing yours. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

As the first snowflakes began to fall outside, the warmth of the kitchen and the laughter of your friends filled the house. And as you stood there beside Hermione, her hand brushing against yours, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect Christmas.

[inblurtub]

all i want for christmas is you ft. ‘colormytree’ website

warning: platonic relationship!

in which you sent each drivers on the grid the ‘colormytree’ website url and asked for xmas messages. here are some of their responses:

max verstappen

named his puppy ornament ‘MAX’

“hey y/n, so how’s spain nd everything? just thought that i would text you a merry xmas gif later today:) too bad they do not have that option here. btw it’s lovely to know that i’m the first one to hang an ornament on your tree, did you text me first, if so i must say that i’m really honoured:) anyway merry christmas and happy new year, looking forward to see you in jan!!”

lando norris

named his santa claus-on-a-ski ‘doubtinglife’

“my twin flame✨🍀💥💐 ya must have miss me so much huh??? happy merry christmas to you and to little eilie too!!! i’ll back in monaco this thur, do you wanna catch up w me?”

“ps: ooops lo siento i forgot you are still in spain. pick a day and pay me a visit then, you owe me a fancy dinner!!!”

george russell

named his wrapped present with red ribbons ornament ‘gr’

“this is honestly kinda cute, really giving me your vibe mate. so uhm… for today only i will say nice things. merry chrismas y/n, i wish u all the best. let’s have a fearless life and maybe got urself a bf or a gf who will madly love you next year. nighty🌛”

charles leclerc

named his polar bear ‘🎄’

“hi y/n merry christmas, wanna take a guess on who am i? btw love this idea of yours, the tree is sooo beautiful and i love the doodles ornaments too, well i might make myself a tree later:) i’ll send you the link first! and i heard that you are in spain? stay safe while visiting barcelona, the guys their are a bit wild in my opinion😂 anw hoping to see u asap🫶🏻”

carlos sainz

named his kitten face ornament ‘hotsummernight’

“ciao ciao, merry xmas to you ms. silly disney princess. don’t need to write a whole paragraph here, do i? i have prepared a present for you, pls come over at 7pm for dinner! but hey i still need u to text me later, u know, for a confirmation:) have a g’day then, see you!!”

oscar piastri

named his orange ornaments ‘theawardshow’

"nice try from you to steal my attention. so how have you been? hope things don’t mess up with u. merry christmas and happy new year, i’m grateful to have you as my friend this year, you’re like a gift. and not the kind i’d return for store credit:) that’s it, enjoy urself and have fun.”

“yikes i hope that no one can read this thing but you, if this message got revealed to the others so there’s a good chance that i might quit racing next year, too embarrassing honestly.”

[utopiastri]

okay so you Know i would eat up literally any single one of these with any pairing bcos you’re crazy stupid talented and literally create my favourite mini universes but if you are taking suggestions i would diee for your take on a galex timeloop so i respectfully beg for 2 for galex from the put that guy in a situoatiin list pls if u are inclined 🫡🫡🫡

-🦎

(ps i almost corrected my spelling but i thought it would help u figure out who it is lol)

i love you for thinking i wouldn't know who this was based off the request alone but PLEASE know the lizard emoji brought me such delight - i hope you enjoy some galex!!!

“I’ve lived this day before.”

Alex blinks at George. “What? What does that even mean?"

George huffs. “Have you ever seen the movie Groundhog Day?”

The first movie that comes to Alex’s mind when he thinks of groundhogs is the one with the singing troupe of chipmunks and he’s guessing George isn’t talking about that one.

“Uh…?”

George rolls his eyes. “Alex, are you kidding? Bill Murray? Andie MacDowell? It's a 90s classic.”

“Wait, wait, Bill Murray rings a bell…hang on. Is it that one where like, the guy gets trapped in a town and he keeps reliving the same day over and over again?”

“Yes,” George says emphatically.

“And that’s happening…”

“To me, yes.”

Alex frowns at him. “Hang on. Isn't this the thing where you're meant to know what I’m gonna say before I say it? Isn’t that how you prove you’re in a time loop?” George stays silent. “George?”

“So, possibly this is technically the first time I’ve told you that I’m in a time loop.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because I didn’t think you’d believe me!” George suddenly narrows his eyes at him, “You…you don’t believe me, right? Like, you’re being sensible and not just taking me at my word, right?”

“I’m being sensible and not just taking you at your word,” Alex lies. Well, half-lies. He’s a little suspicious George is pranking him but…

Well.

He’d rather run the risk of looking like an idiot than refuse to help George on the off-chance he’s not talking complete and utter bullshit.

“Do you know what you need to do to stop the time loop?” Alex falters when George gives him a glare. “The time loop that is hypothetically happening because I am definitely not just believing you straight away with no proof because I would never do that.”

“Alex.”

“Do you want me to believe you or not, George? This feels like you’re fighting against something you want!”

George groans. “Fine, ok, believe me!”

“Wonderful. So.”

“So?”

“What do you need to do to get out of the time loop?”

George flushes pink.

“Um. Well. Based on the evidence I’ve collected–”

“George, please tell me the evidence is not just you watching Groundhog Day.”

“Based on the evidence I’ve collected,” George repeats, cheeks somehow going an even darker pink, “I need to fall in love with someone and get them to fall in love with me.”

Alex's stomach drops. He tries his best to keep his voice level as he says, “And do you…have someone…in mind?”

“Ah, I, um, so the problem is…”

“Come on, Georgie, spit it out.”

“I’m already in love with someone.”

Alex swallows. “Have you…have you been in the time loop that long? That you've fallen in love with someone already?”

“No! I’ve been in it for three days, I was just, I was in love with this person before the time loop.”

“So now you just need to get them to fall in love with you, right.” Alex takes a deep breath and pastes a smile on his face, “So, who’s the lucky person you've gotta win over?”

George looks pained. “It’s…um…” He takes a deep breath. “Fuck it, it’s a time loop, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Alex barely has a second to ponder what that could mean before George has placed his hands on either side of Alex’s face and pulled him into a soft kiss. Alex freezes and George seems to take that as rejection. He starts pulling backwards and Alex panics, managing to move his hands to George's neck and desperately try to keep him in place, to bring him back into the kiss.

After a moment, Alex pulls away but stays close enough to lean his forehead against George’s.

“George?”

“Hm,” he answers, a little dreamily.

“If this wasn’t enough to break the time loop, and you wake up tomorrow and the day has reset, and I don’t remember this, you’d better fucking kiss me again, got it?”

George smiles softly. “Got it,” he whispers, before pressing his lips to Alex's once more.

[was-that-a-pun]

Imagine PTA meetings for Susan in the near future, lmao.

Susan sitting with Doey, who's far too big for the tiny chair he's sitting on, in the principals office because he (specifically Kevin) chunked some jerk into a cafeteria trashcan for picking on, say, Izzy. From across the room.

(PS: If Kevin's mom is still alive, I hope Susan hunts her down and commits multiple hate crimes. Kevin should obviously be cheering her on from the car.)

This ask was so perfect for an AU i recently thought up and havent gotten to talk about I just frantically typed up the rough idea just so i could share

This would be so funny because at the start Doey would be all squished and shame faced in his chair as the principal tells a very one sided story about the whole thing. Susan nodding along as she sits primly politely taking in his every word.

Principal finishing off with some bs about how they understand Doey's...difficult circumstances (subtle eyebrow quirk of judgement from susan) but she is well aware how high their expectations are for all of their students and that he knows she will handle this matter with the appropriate seriousness. and nod nod uh huh uh huh till he finally finishes talking and there's a beat of silence afterwards.

And her posture relaxes, she slings an arm over the back of the chair as she tilts her head to look over at her son and goes

"So - What actually happened."

and the principal is suddenly not as confident as he was a few seconds ago as Doey perks up and tells the actual story resulting in Susan absolutely laying into how that sort of behavior could be allowed in this sort of establishment, have they even checked on Izzy? Has anybody talked to this other kid about THEIR behavior?

No i do not think this is going to be going on his permanent record unless you want your incompetence noted in yours.

Doey has the most shit eating grin as they leave and they stop off in Anatomy class where Susan opens with

"Del, what the FUCK" and the two have a nice bitch fest about the principal. (by the way in this AU Barb is the class pet and is a cactus)

When they get home George symbolically grounds him for excessive force but say's it's also time served for having a good reason to do it and they all have a talk about other options he can take next time something like that comes up. ranging from actually better solutions to hilariously outlandish over the top stuff.

(PS: Susan doesn't care if Kevins parents are alive or dead they're not worth thinking about. Kevins her kid now. If they showed up however thinking they could take him back or use him to get something then no holds barred beatdown while Doey cheers from the car X3)

[lcdrarry]

LCDrarry 2024 Master List Part 2: More Fic

Dear lovely Participants, Creators, Alpha and Beta Readers, Cheerleaders, Readers and Fans of this fest,

The 6th installment of LCDrarry has come to an end, and we'd like to thank you all for taking part in this fest, for creating so many amazing new Drarry works for us all to enjoy, for commenting on your favourite creations, for sharing and recommending the LCDrarry gems with and to your friends and blog followers, and for making this fest another amazing experience for everybody!

Fests would not exist without their participants or readers! You're all amazing! And we're so happy that you chose this fest in the vast and wonderful offerings of HP and Drarry events.

You can find out under the cut who created what ;D

~Your LCDrarry Mods Tami (@celilasart) and Suzi (@erin-riwen)

PS: Please have a look at the author notes and tags on AO3 for additional information and more detailed warnings. Thank you! PPS: You can find a link to Part 1 of this Master List under the cut. Enjoy!

Part 1 of this Master List with all the lovely podfics, art and more fics can be found here.

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More Fic

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If The Boxers Fit (A Cinderella Story)

Prompt: "100 Girls", 2000 Author: lettersbyelise Word Count: 8,360 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Summary: When Draco ends up shagging a hot, mysterious stranger in a broken Ministry lift and is left with nothing but a sexy pair of red boxers to remember them by, Draco’s friends go sleuthing.

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surviving the mist

Prompt: "The Mist", 2017, TV Show Author: gnarf Word Count: 7,153 words Rating: Mature Warnings: one homophobic slur, Uncanny Valley, Blood, Trauma Bonding, mentions of past starvation, hinted at child abuse, Torture (off screen), Post-War, Minor pining, Clueless Harry Potter, Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed, involuntary housemates, Inspired by The Mist - Stephen King, LCDrarry 2024

Summary: Everything was perfect for Harry, until Draco moved into the cottage next door. He thought that Draco Malfoy being his neighbour was the worst that could happen to him. Until the outside world got turned into a death zone. Trapped by a mysterious fog, Harry and Draco have to try and get along while surviving the nightmares hiding outside, waiting, luring...

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Listening to the Manor

Prompt: "Spirited Away", 2001, Hayao Miyazaki Author: meandminniemcg Word Count: 11,183 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: No archive warnings apply

Summary: When Dudley gets turned into a bird on a roadtrip, Harry has to save his cousin. He meets a mysterious blond man and a sentient manor house that needs his help. But first he has to do his new job at the Magical Creature spa, the only reason he can stay...

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Twin Blades

Prompt: “Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith”, 2005, George Lucas Author: lucio Word Count: 3,525 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: lightsaber combat, nightmares

Summary: Harry advances a few steps toward Draco, who doesn’t move, only watches him approach with narrowed eyes. “If you’re so sure the Jedi have no power, duel me. If you win, your master will be proud of you.” Draco’s eyes glitter. “And if you win?” “We’ll find out, won’t we?” Harry raises his lightsaber, readies himself. “Come on.” Without another word, Draco lunges at him.

Or, a Drarry-flavored reskin of the battle on Mustafar.

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Hope Is A Thing With Feathers

Prompt: "Thelma and Louise", 1991, Ridley Scott Author: Stillwriting Word Count: 33,335 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator chose not to use Archive Warnings

Summary: Harry is disillusioned with the Aurors, his relationship with Ginny, and is tired of all the hero worship but feels trapped. Draco, still hated by the Wizarding world, decides to get away and shares his plan with Harry, his only friend. Harry jumps at the chance to go with him.

They share in the freedom of their adventure, but things don’t go according to plan. Amidst their misfortunes, they discover new talents, courage in the face of tragedy, and above all, love.

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Slipping through my fingers all the time

Prompt: "Mamma Mia", 2008, Phyllida Lloyd Author: TheGoblinMatriarch Word Count: 11,378 words Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: sex while on drugs, drinking

Summary: Recently-divorced Harry returns to Serenity Commune, site of his wildest youthful romps and the beginning of his recovery from trauma, to get out of a rut (and because Hermione made him). Unfortunately, sex, drugs, and dancing aren't all that await - he'll have to confront his past and what life might have been.

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Romancing the Dragon

Prompt: "Romancing the Stone", 1984, Robert Zemeckis Author: jtimu Word Count: 34,382 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Action movie typical violence

Summary: Harry Potter writes romance novels from the comfort of his London townhouse, with the assistance of his beloved cat, Juliet. He does not engage in rescue missions, talk to dragons, or develop feelings for Draco Malfoy. That would be absurd.

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first, she fell

Prompt: "Anatomy of a Fall", 2023, Justine Triet Author: luminae Word Count: 1,648 words Rating: Mature Warnings: angst, referenced character death, open ending, referenced adultery, speculated murder

Summary: Harry's wife is dead. No one knows quite what that means.

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Caribou Garden

Prompt: Nature Documentaries (genre, any year) Author: CreepingMyrtle Word Count: 2,641 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Summary: Alone with his swotty, posh, nemesis-turned-colleague on an uninhabited island in the far north, cinematographer Harry Potter grapples with his inconvenient crush. A nature documentary-inspired fic with magical caribou migrations, dramatic landscapes, and only one tent.

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Leap Year

Prompt: "Leap Year", 2010, Anand Tucker Author: youhavemyswordandmybow Word Count: 29,064 words Rating: Mature Warnings: None apply.

Summary: Draco Malfoy has come a long way. He has a successful business and a muggle-born high-flyer boyfriend.

One tiny thing - it's been four years and he has no ring. No matter, he'll take things into his own hands. Feb 29th is an Irish muggle tradition that he'll happily jump on. Archie (boyfriend) is in Ireland - he'll simply portkey over and pop the question.

One (LARGE) problem. The portkey office messed up and he's landed outside Harry Potter's pub.

The same Harry Potter that hasn't been seen for ten years.

*Big sigh.*

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Runaway Groom

Prompt: "Runaway Bride," 1999, Garry Marshall Author: skotini Word Count: 30,044 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Arranged marriage (not between Harry and Draco), Infidelity if you squint (not between Harry and Draco)

Summary: OK, so Draco's feeling so nervous about his upcoming wedding to his fiancée Astoria Greengrass that he could faint. That's one of the pitfalls of an arranged marriage, right? Just because he's run out of his past three weddings, doesn't mean this one won't go ahead. He just has to keep his eyes on the finishing line, and ignore the sudden reappearance of Harry Potter, who seems to be determined to turn his world upside down. Again.

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we were born to be national treasures

Prompt: "Legally Blonde", 2001, Robert Luketic Author: calledityellow Word Count: 4,979 words Rating: General Audiences Warnings: There is nothing triggering in the work, although it does heavily rely on the subject of needing academic validation as a woman in a patriarchal society.

Summary: Danica Malfoy is determined to study law and move forward in life. But is anything really ever that simple?

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The Potters: Possessed Case

Prompt: "The Conjuring", 2013, James Wan Author: Nelween Word Count: 12,039 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Horror, blood, vomiting, mention of suicide, possession, exorcism

Summary: After a lecture, Harry and Draco meet a frightened woman, telling them that her entire family is scared to death of their new house.

But Harry and Draco wanted to take a break after a traumatising case. Maybe it's just natural causes and the house isn't haunted, right?

***

By the Book

Prompt: "The Proposal", 2009, Anne Fletcher Author: Olena Word Count: 14,586 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Summary: It’s hard being Draco Malfoy: workaholic publishing professional extraordinaire. Between revolutionizing the Wizarding World and fighting with Harry Potter, his chief of staff, it makes sense Draco forgot to check his mother filed some paperwork. Oops. Easy enough to avoid deportation by saying he’s engaged to said manager.

Too bad that plan involves visiting Ottery St Catchpole, a gaggle of redheads, and defrauding the government.

***

this strange effect

Prompt: "Killing Eve" (2018 - 2022) Author: harDeehar Word Count: 30,670 words Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Violence, Blood and Injury, Assassinations, Killing Eve AU, Murder, Light Poisoning, Obsessive Behavior, Reference to past addiction issues, Presents

Summary: Harry hated his job, his cousin, and his inability to figure out how to fit into the boring, depressing world around him. He kept his peace until Draco Malfoy turned out to not be dead like Harry thought he was. Deadly, though? Harry was going to figure that out.

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The Heart of the Heart

Prompt: "Howl's Moving Castle", 2004, Hayao Miyazaki Author: Poljupci Word Count: 52,775 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Summary: Harry Potter’s boring routine comes crumbling down when he takes the wrong shortcut at the wrong time; he almost ends up in a brawl, gets rescued by a handsome stranger, successfully escapes sentient tar, learns to walk on air and then becomes victim to a spiteful, petty and undeserved ageing curse - and all that within a single afternoon! Now transformed into an old man, Harry decides to run away in search of a way to reverse the spell, but the path is precarious and the journey long. As he's trying to make his way through magic and treachery, danger and deceit, it's becoming abundantly clear that something more is hidden behind petty magic - something deeper and more valuable and connected all too thoroughly to what may only be classified as love.

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End of Beginnings

Prompt: "All of Us Strangers", 2023, Andrew Haigh Author: LouisIsSoGolden Word Count: 5,324 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Canonical Character Death

Summary: As Harry and Draco start developing a relationship, Harry finds himself drawn back to the Potter house in Godric's Hollow, where his parents appear to be living just as they were on the day they died.

Based on the movie All of Us Strangers (2023) though you don't have to have seen it to understand the fic.

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Love Will Abide

Prompt: "The Last of Us", Episode 3: "Long, Long Time", 2023 Author: dodgerkedavra Word Count: 39,547 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Major Character Death, Suicide

Summary: Harry and Draco survive the apocalypse. This is what happens after.

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Theme and Variations

Prompt: "Rush", 2013, Ron Howard Author: lucifergraced Word Count: 24,890 words Rating: Mature Warnings: brief mentions of (canonical) child abuse

Summary: Draco had fucked him over, yet again. Harry was sick of it.

With music swelling from the orchestra below, lights beating down on him hard enough to break a sweat before the first variation, the audience rapt with attention, this should have been the greatest moment of Harry’s life. But it wasn’t. Of course Draco fucking Malfoy had to ruin this for him too.

Harry took a shaking breath and began to dance.

***

Happiness Seems to be Loneliness

Prompt: "Saltburn", 2023, Emerald Fennell Author: newskyillusion Word Count: 29,811 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Unhinged Harry Potter, Dark Harry Potter, Obsessive Harry Potter, Character Death, Animal Death, Fat Shaming, Minor Character Death, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Inspired by Saltburn (2023), References to Frankenstein, Necrophilia, Off-scene suicide (mentioned)

Summary: Fucking Pansy was like fucking a fish. or Drarry meets Saltburn

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Count On Me

Prompt: "Put Your Head On My Shoulder", 2019, Netflix Author: Shewhxmustnxtbenamed Word Count: 23,044 words Rating: General Audiences Warnings: fake dating, forced cohabitation

Summary: University students Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy run into each other one day. Literally. On bikes. After that, they can't get away from each other, no matter how hard they try. And then, it seems, they might not want to. Based heavily on the C-Drama "Put Your Head On My Shoulder" on Netflix.

***

Part 1 of this Master List with all the lovely podfics, art and more fics can be found here.

As always, reblogs here on tumblr are very much appreciated to promote all the wonderful works of LCDrarry. But of course, please also shower our creators with comments and kudos on AO3 ;D Thank you! Read you next year ;)

[bloodymiso]

★ library gossip! anthony lockwood x gn!reader

in which you discuss the latest magazine gossip with the world’s best drama queen—apples at hand.

notes: idk how the farts i whipped this up faster than my haikyuu hcs but whatever🔥🔥. | warnings: granny apple haters dni/j

imagine discussing the latest gossip with LOCKWOOD. his eyes were glued to his newly arrived gossip magazine as he took a bite of an apple, which he often forgets on the chair—something you noticed after sitting on a 2 day old rotten apple a few days ago.

you popped into the library, a book in hand. as you walked, you hit the shelf, too focused on your book to care. lockwood’s ears perked up and he tilted his head up to face you.

“woah, you okay there?” he chuckled. “anyhoo, did you know gina—yes, gina, got a divorce with her husband. crazy, right?” he said almost immediately after his last sentence, completely brushing off the past “topic” that he brought up. you listened in, closing your book, making sure you had the bookmark in the right place.

you couldnt help but be pretty well informed with whatever cock and bull lockwood read in his magazines, he talked about it all day, everyday. even on missions. ah, the mission on king’s road, you remembered it very clearly.

the type 2 visitor approached your figures, lockwood with his rapier up, doing his fancy wancy twirly wirly shit. it attacked and as it did so, you could see it’s features, rather clearly at that. his face was structured, his jawline rather clear, and his hair was pulled back neatly, like your average london rich kid—just ugly with half the flesh on his body burned off. both of you jumped out the way and as lockwood landed on the floor, you could practically see the lightbulb beside his head.

“merlin’s beard that guy is exactly how my magazine described the man martha had an affair with!”

“bloody hell lockwood, shut up!”

remembering that past mission, you chuckled, resting your arms on lockwood’s armchair(haha armchair for arms) , leaning on it. “why is everything about relationships and marriage in that magazine?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. “your hair is so thin.” “come on lad don’t change the subject.” he rolled his eyes and continued.

“apparently, jeffrey—gina’s husband was having an affair with gerlie, the girl next door.”

“why is everyone having affairs?”

“dunno, adults are weird. anyway—oh do you want an apple?” he asked, grabbing a light green granny apple from his little basket. you nodded, relieving it from his hands, taking a bite.

your conversation lasted over an hour, and lockwood had devoured over 3 apples in that time period. if you were standing outside the door in that said hour like a weirdo(*cough* george*cough*) you would have heard laughter almost every 5 seconds.

his smile was so contagious, even a simple sneer caused your own lips to curve up in response. you loved moments like this, laughing your asses off over stupid stuff. you loved all the shits and giggles you and lockwood had.

you giggled as you looked through the pages, stopping at a picture of a couple—the man on the left weirdly resembling lockwood. you looked at him, and he looked at you. a cheeky smile rose to his face as you playfully slapped his cheek.

“are you thinking what im thinking?” he smirked, before he could continue the thought, you slapped him again.

“this is abuse! that could be us if you werent such a meanie.” he rolled his eyes like the drama queen he is, closing the magazine and crossing his arms. you chuckled, he was pouting.

“hey im not a meanie.” you pouted back, ruffling his hair. the smirk on lockwood’s lips never fading.

“guess thats us then.” he said, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his legs.

“i—nevermind, im a meanie.”

(><) wanna support? reblog with tags pookie!! (ps. check out my may 2024 event:3 )

[tomsparkyr]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋!

following episode three of 'inside' — george clarke x fem!reader

by any means i do not own 'inside' and all credit is theirs (!!)

and please no stealing of my work !!

(ps, i just wanna say thank you so so much to everyone helping me, i was so nervous to say something about it and had no idea how to handle it and i'm so grateful for every single one of you i genuinely love you and these chapters are for all of you, please enjoy🤍🤍🤍)

(pps, also anyone who’s requested stuff it will be written once i’ve finished this story!)

wc: 5.6K

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“Insiders, please gather in the living room.”

The blaring voice of Tobi rang out in the bedroom, startling you as you woke up from your slumber. You found yourself curled up into a bed you weren’t familiar with, it didn’t smell like you so you could definitely determine that it wasn’t yours; also the strong arms wrapped around you were definitely not your own.

Your back was pressed against someone’s hard chest, your figure hugged into them tightly. Their head was tucked into the space between your shoulder and your neck, their soft and slow snores tingling your skin. Your hair tickled their face, but they didn’t move as their hands were snuck underneath your bedtime shirt, fingers brushing the waistband of your shorts.

You groaned and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, shifting just enough for the person behind you to slip their hands to both sides of your waist, feeling their presence sit up behind you.

Turning around, you saw a shirtless George sitting upright and ruffling his bed hair. You couldn’t help but notice the lack of space between you two due to being squished into the twin bed, one of his arms was wrapped around you in case you fell off the bed.

You stared at him for a moment. Confused, you asked, “Why am I in your bed?” His tired gaze settled on you for a second before his eyes widened and memories from the night before came flooding back. “Oh! You fell asleep on my bed and I didn’t want to wake you and move you,” You nodded along. “So, I just let you stay in mine.” 

His cheeks grew a pink colour as he continued and gestured with his hands, “We fell asleep back to back so I also have no idea why we ended up… like this.” He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

“Morning, love birds!” PK shouted from across the room, an exaggerated wave being sent your way. You turned around and flipped PK off with a joking smile, hearing his cackle before looking back at George who was leaning over the bed to reach for his clothes. He maneuvered around you, resting a hand on your thigh for support as you sat cross legged on his bed. 

Holding his shirt, he stood up and continued the routine of holding a hand out for you to take, helping you stand up and out of the bed. 

Walking over to your bed, you couldn’t find your hoodie to put over your shirt and the room wasn’t getting any warmer at this time in the morning. Seeing your struggle, George walked your way and tapped you on the shoulder.

His black top was halfway on his body, his right hand offering you his navy hoodie. You went to shake your head and refuse but he took your hand and placed the hoodie in your arms, “Please, just take it.” He winked and passed you to go into the living room.

Leaving you behind clinging onto his hoodie, you tried to suppress a wide smile and rosy cheeks. Milli watched from across the room with a cheeky smile and stuck her tongue out at you, “Oh, George is so dreamy! I wish I could sleep in his bed every night!” She mocked your thoughts in a high pitched tone of voice.

Your mouth dropped open at her, leaning down to reach for the ‘horny beast’ that had fallen from the bed during the night and lobbed it at her. She laughed as it hit her face before flicking it away in disgust, “Ew! I don’t wanna know what that teddy saw last night in bed with you and George!”

“Milli!” You groaned as she skipped up to you and linked your arms, leading the pair of you out the room and whispering dirty jokes in your ear about how the name of the teddy lived up to its name.

The pair of you walked into the living room, greeted with the sight of Tobi standing behind a plinth with cards stacked on top of it. 

“Oh, fuck.” You mumbled making Tobi laugh. You cursed the game out as you settled yourself down on the sofa, shoulder to shoulder with Milli and sitting across from George, his leg brushing yours as he outstretched his own.

George smiled at you and you reciprocated the action. Farah next to you grumbled, “Jesus. Was cuddling all night not enough for you? Do you really need to eye-fuck each other from across the room?” 

You covered your face with your hands as the group bellowed in laughter, Jason slapping George on the back in congratulations (although nothing has happened between you two yet). Tobi’s eyebrows raised and pointed to the cameras in the room, “George and Y/N, there are cameras everywhere and I don’t wanna see any funny business that needs to be cut!” He flickered between the two of you.

You sunk into the couch more, “Tobi! Just ruin our morning and tell us what’s happening.” You laughed, Milli beside you wished she could take a picture of your embarrassed face right now.

Tobi chuckled and complied, “Good morning, Insiders.” Everyone responded with half-hearted replies. “Can I please ask you to clear the front of the sofa and line up in front of it, please?”

You grumbled, sleep still overtaking your body as you reluctantly peeled yourself off of your comfy position on the sofa. You naturally found yourself gravitating towards George and slipped out of Milli’s radar, her smirking at you as you unknowingly got closer to the boy.

George peered down at you as you stood next to him, he ruffled your bed hair with his hand before it slid down your body to settle on your lower back.

“One by one, you’re going to come and collect an envelope from this plinth here.” Tobi explained. However, you were too distracted by George’s completely tired look on his face, smiling to yourself as he stared absentmindedly into the distance. Of course, you wouldn’t admit to yourself that he looked insanely good and adorable here; because he was your best friend! Best friends don’t think about each other like that, although you feared all morals were out the window after you spooned each other in bed last night.

“Do not open it until I say so.” Tobi demanded, all of you still confused about the concept of this challenge, or if it was a challenge.

“George.” Tobi called him up, his hand drifting from its position on your back but still hovering over your figure. PK snorted a laugh and whispered to Whitney next to him, “Can’t let go of his girl for one second.” She laughed and slapped his chest, intensely watching the two of you.

After George picked up his envelope, your name was called. “Y/N.” You stepped forward and took the envelope with dread, a nervous feeling sitting in your stomach at what lies underneath the paper.

While everyone else collected their envelopes, you felt the lack of sleep catching up with you and swayed on the spot slightly, eyes staring ahead. On instinct, you leaned into George’s side and rested your head on his arm; sensing this, George crouched down slightly so you could rest your head comfortably on his shoulder, despite the awkward squatting position he was in, he valued your comfort more than his.

You weren’t aware of this gesture, but still appreciated his response to your touch as his fingers started tracing patterns on your back that was clad in his hoodie.

“I’m now going to ask you to open and reveal the content of your envelope.” Tobi looked at the cuddling pair, “George, please open your envelope.”

George slowly ripped open the envelope and turned the sheet around to reveal a blank canvas with a circle on it. Furrowing your brows, you did the same after to see you had the exact same result.

This continued down the line until it reached DDG, everyone looking around at each other to silently question if they had any idea what this meant. “As you can see, DDG is the only one to have an X.”

“Which means that you will have to pick someone to go home right now.” Your mouth dropped open and your heart fell into your stomach, you had just woken up and someone was immediately going home.

Slipping your hand into George’s, his grip tightened on you and pressed a kiss on top of your head due to the height difference. With your head resting on him, you could hear his heart pounding against his chest and toyed with his fingers to try and relieve his nerves.

DDG stood up and faced the group as Tobi said, “You must now choose someone to leave the Inside house.” Sighing, he looked at you and George.

“Last night we were all hanging out, having a good time and creating a nice bond together.” Your nerves faltered slightly, remembering (before you fell asleep) that DDG was conversing with you and George about how you should ‘cut the shit and just kiss already’.

“And one person just wasn’t vibing at all. I’m sorry, Dylan.” You cringed as Dylan nodded in acceptance and Tobi ordered him to say his goodbyes. 

DDG interview!

“I knew if I wanted to get George out, I needed to get Y/N out first. But it’s too soon to vote one of them out now because everyone could see what game I’m trying to play. So I went off initial vibes, and that’s why I voted out Dylan.”

You, George, Milli and Farah all walked Dylan out of the house, bidding your goodbyes and hugging him before he walked out the house. You knew it would feel different without a figure in the house; but it was all part of the game and you understood it.

As everyone gathered in the bedroom, you sat crossed legged on George’s bed whilst he stood behind you, his arms wrapped around your shoulders from behind and hugging you close. You looked up at George, “The elimination still hasn’t properly hit me,” He nodded along, “I’m still half asleep.” You grumbled and leaned into George’s touch.

You could hear him laugh from behind you, “Give her an hour and she’ll cry when she realises he’s actually gone.” The others laughed at him as you shook your head and rested your hands on his arms where they were situated around your shoulders.

PK spoke up, “Today is your birthday.” He pointed at Whitney. You all turned to look at her in surprise and all cheered, “Happy Birthday!” As the group sang to her, George swayed you two back and forth.

The sound of a bell chiming broke everyone out of their daze as a couple of people peered their heads around the door to read the screen, “Breakfast is ready!” They shouted. George slipped his arms off of your shoulders, switching his hold on you to lug you up in bridal style off of the bed, one arm underneath your legs. You yelped in surprise and he smiled at your reaction, “Let’s go get breakfast, beautiful.” He whispered to you as he strode down to the shop with you in his arms.

As you reached the shop, he settled you back into the floor but let his hands rest on your hips. “George can’t keep his hands off her for one minute!” Patrice laughed and looked towards DDG and Jason, then laughing and pointing at the pair of you and you stood oblivious to their nattering near you.

Looking at the items listed, George pointed one out. “Custom coffee’s two and a half grand today.” You shook your head, “Yeah, please no one buy that today.” You wanted to try and attempt to save money, the budget was dropping already less than two days in and if you were to win, you’d like some money to take home with you.

Whitney took a step towards you and her eyes flickered to the position you and George were in, “It’s my birthday and Y/N, stop defending your boyfriend. Have your own opinion!”

Your eyes widened and you turned to face George, stepping out of his hold in embarrassment. George felt his heart falter a little bit as you retracted from his touch, missing the feeling of you in his hold.

You saw George open his mouth to protest and snap back at Whitney for her uncalled for comment, but you quickly shook your head and whispered, “Leave it.” You wanted to avoid conflict on the third day, you couldn’t handle arguing with people you barely knew.

time skip!

“Why, hello there!” You jumped from your spot sat next to Milli in the living room, the discussion about the charity match halting as JJ’s voice rang out.

“Are you all good?” You opened your mouth to respond as well as the others, “Shut up! I don’t care.” JJ shouted back, causing you to suppress a laugh. 

Everyone walked into the living room as JJ continued through the loud speaker, “It’s time to go to the challenge arena. Get your asses changed and let’s go.”

You groaned and rolled your head back as you mentally prepared yourself for this challenge. As you walked towards the challenge arena, you spotted George a few steps ahead and in a slow walk. You picked up your step to stand behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist to rest your forehead on his back due to his height advantage against you.

You could practically see George’s eyebrows raise, “Well, hello there.” He lifted one arm around his back to stroke the back of your head and chuckled at your dread as you mumbled curses about the Sidemen; something along the lines of ‘God, why did I agree to this?’

The purple colour lights blinded your vision as you rounded the corner into the arena, “Here we are once more.” You heard George grumble, trying to sound somewhat enthusiastic but failing in doing so. “Ye old challenge arena.”

You retracted yourself from clinging onto George and stood on your tiptoes to see the room. Simon and JJ stood behind a circle table with trays scattered around it, and seats accompanying each side for spectators.

Simon and JJ urged you into the room, mocking greetings and laughing at your horror stricken face. You took a seat next to Milli, directly opposite George who winked at you in good luck. 

Simon and JJ listed off the rules of ‘The Wheel of Mystery’, the name not exactly helping soothe your nerves but you persisted otherwise. Milli looked over at you and laughed at your face, a sour look etched into your features as you watched Simon shuffle through his cue cards before landing on one and showing it to JJ, then proceeding to laugh with each other and glance in your direction; you just knew they had something up their sleeve for you.

Unfortunately, due to your positioning behind Patrice in the game and his determination to go first, you had to endure an entire game of him occasionally letting one rip. Each time he backed his own ass control, you put your head in your hands to cover your laugh as Milli groaned and rested her forehead on your shoulder with closed eyes.

Once it was PK’s turn, JJ smirked at the question he was given, “This is a juicy one.” He raised his brows, “Rank the girls inside from most to least attractive.”

PK immediately turned round to face Milli and pointed at her, “Least attractive!” You gasped in shock and looked at PK with a confused expression. Milli responded with just as much energy, “He’s just salty I didn’t say he was the fittest!” She laughed with you as PK started spewing facts that she was the most attractive yesterday, but according to his logic, it’s a new day.

He ranked Farah sixth, Mandi fifth, Whitney fourth and Cinna third. PK glanced back and forth between you and Mya, taking a good look at the pair of you and considering his options. 

George on the side had his lip tucked in between his teeth and his head tilted to the side, he stared at PK and silently willed him to stop as he watched his eyes trail over your sitting figure. George would never admit that he was jealous, because there was nothing to be jealous over. All friends feel a sick feeling in their stomach when another man practically hits on them when they’re right there, it’s normal! It’s a valid reaction because he is definitely not in love with you! He’d just curse PK out if he even tried to make a move on you; but the mischievous look in PK’s eyes told George that he wasn’t making it out of the challenge with any sense of dignity.

PK stood up and walked over to George, lifting a hand up to dap him up. “George, you’re my man. I’d never take your girl from you, brother.” You widen your eyes and look anywhere but George and PK, catching a glance of George’s mouth open and heat spreading through his cheeks.

George let out a nervous laugh and couldn’t form a witty response to that. Mya beside him could only laugh at his red face and the image of JJ laughing and pointing at him.

PK walked back to his seat, “So, Y/N second and my wife, Mya as first.” Everyone nodded along, still smiling from the previous interaction.

After a couple rounds and wishing you had your phone on you to take a picture of Milli’s unamused face in the banana costume, JJ called Mandi up into the hot seat and asked her, “Which Inside do you think will be the most boring to watch?”

You winced at the harsh question and watched her look between the group before her eyes landed on you, “Y/N.” You raised your brows in shock and swallowed a dry throat; were you really that boring? JJ and Simon exchanged confused glances and cleared their throat, “Why’s that, Mandi?”

She smiled a bit, “You know I love you, Y/N,” She started. You closed your eyes and whispered to Milli, “Fucking hell, here we go.” Milli grabbed your hand for comfort.

“I just think you’re a bit of a cling on to George,” Your face paled slightly, “Like, he has a career on YouTube, so do you but… it’s like you’re just there while he’s doing his own thing.” You stared at her in shock and tried to comprehend her words for a moment, catching eye contact with George as he held a pissed off facial expression.

Jason spoke up, “Wait, doesn’t she literally have more subs than George?” George nodded and pointed at Jason, “Y/N was doing her own thing before I even joined YouTube so I don’t know what the fuck that answer means.” He defended you from across the room.

You shook your head and tightened your grip on Mandi’s hand, “That was kind of uncalled for, Mandi.” You mumbled, looking directly at her. She laughed and turned back to JJ and Simon, “I was just answering the question!”

Whitney pointed at Mandi with a smile, “I’ve got you girl!” The pair laughed and the Sidemen behind them shut them down immediately, “Mandi, open your tray.” They demanded, no longer wanting to hear them slander you, being one of their closest friends and hearing them diminish you to nothing and acting as if they were more successful than you. 

Next it was your turn, “Y/N, please join us at the front.” Simon called out.

You ran your hands through your hair as you stood up, “Come on, Y/N!” You heard Milli shout from behind you, turning around and sticking your tongue out at her. You looked over at George to see him staring at you with a smile, nodding at you with encouragement.

You sat down and leaned back into the chair, crossing your arms over your chest as JJ read out his cue card. “Y/N, if you had to share a bed with any male Insider, who would it be?”

You sighed and looked down at the table, knowing exactly who they wanted you to say. You shrugged your shoulders, “Why are all my questions like this in challenges?” You laughed. 

JJ behind you cackled and leaned over you, “Maybe take the hint, Y/N.” You faced him with furrowed brows and mouth ajar, Simon laughed at you and nudged JJ in a signal to not give away too much of what they had planned for you.

You scanned the room, “Only male Insiders?” Simon nodded, “Only male.”

You sucked your teeth and sighed, “I mean I’ve already done it by accident, so I would go for George.” You tilted your head to see him trying to suppress a proud smile with his arms slung behind his head, showing off his biceps (ones that you definitely didn’t catch yourself staring at).

The group all awed at your answer, even hearing PK let out a wolf-whistle your way. You showed him the bird and heard his boisterous laugh in the background. 

Simon approved of your answer, “Thank you for your answer. You will see the consequences of your decision later.”

You whipped your head around to him, similar to George. “What the fuck does that mean?” You gasped, your heart dropped into your stomach as a cold flush fell over you. Simon only shrugged with a smirk, and ordered you to open your tray. You rubbed your face with your hands and groaned loudly into them, causing the others to laugh at you.

You lifted the lid off of your tray, revealing dead cockroaches laid out on the plate, the label reading ‘Crunchy Delight!” You looked away immediately and screamed, “Fuck off!”

Everyone around you gasped as they looked down at your plate, “That’s fucking rancid, mate!” You supressed a gag, leaning down to rest your forehead on the edge of the table, mumbling curses about how you weren’t getting paid enough to do this.

As the group cheered you on, you quickly lifted your head and grabbed one before stuffing it in your mouth. You wanted to throw up as soon as it entered your mouth and you quickly snatched your water bottle, only to realise you had left it in the bedroom.

Your eyes widened and you screamed with your mouth shut as your hands swiped for something that wasn’t there. No one could understand your body language as you panicked slightly. However, George noticed you fear stricken face and suddenly reached down for his bottle and hopped from his seat, quickly appearing at your side.

He unscrewed the lid off for you and shoved it into your hands as you swallowed the ‘meal’, tilting the bottle back and drinking the cold water that was situated in it. You sighed in relief as the water drowned out any taste of the cockroach.

George was still squated next to you and gently brushed his fingers against your bare shoulder in the tank top you wore, whispering encouraging words and mumbling how he was proud of you. You turned to look at him and whispered back, “Thank you.” And patted his head with a chuckle.

Realising that everyone was watching you two, George stepped back from the interaction and coughed awkwardly, walking back to his seat as everyone congratulated you for not losing any money. Cinna spoke up, “That was cute, Y/N and George!” You swatted the back of her head as you passed her.

During George’s turn he was asked, “Which Insider would you most like to be eliminated and why?” 

To avoid conflict and general awkwardness within the house, George reasoned. “I don’t wanna risk my opinion being an actual vote and they go.” You all awed at him and smiled at his response, causing JJ behind him to mock us. “Shut the fuck up.” George groaned, but ultimately lost everyone £5,000.

time skip!

“Y/N, can I talk to you for a second?” You hear George ask you as he enters the living room. You were sitting around the table with your lunch situated infront of you, surrounded by multiple members of the house who were now also looking at George who stood awkwardly with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

Confused, you nodded. “Sure, what’s wrong?” George shook his head and looked at everyone around you, “Maybe… just us? Alone?” He asked with a wavering voice.

Your eyebrows shot up and stumbled over your words slightly, not expecting him to have a private conversation with you in such urgency. “Uh, yeah! I’ll come now.” You shuffled out of your stool and walked towards his as he held his arm out for you to link it with yours, knowing that was your usual instinct when it came to him.

The other insiders sitting at the table jeered at you and George, “Come on, Georgie!” You distinctly heard Jason’s voice; and Patrice shouted out, “Use protection!”

As you left the room, you stood in the main area. You looked up at George, “What did you want to tell me?”

He looked around and politely smiled at people walking past, his nerves growing even more which caused concern to grow in you. He sighed and took both of your hands into his, “Not here.”

He walked backwards towards the gym and started speaking to you, never breaking eye contact with you. “I need to tell you something, Y/N. In private.” You nodded and your breathing sped up as he edged closer to the door.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you this for ages and I figured since we’re living together for the next few days, this could be a good chance to tell you that--”

The door of the gym swung open and Mya and Whitney tumbled out laughing, messing with the pockets of their tracksuit. You yelped as they collided with George’s back before they burst into laughter and ran away, not missing the sound of a rustling packet tucked into their clothing.

You watched the run away with furrowed brows, feeling George slip from your hands and him striding over to a camera tucked into the corner of the room; “There’s no way they think I can’t hear a rusting packet of choccy, right?”

The girls passed you again, this time with composure. “Hello.” They sweetly said as you reciprocated the gesture, glancing at George with a knowing look. George scoffed and walked towards the living room, you hot on his trail. “They think they’re slick.”

You jogged up next to him and tapped his shoulder, “Wait, what were you saying back then before?”

George’s eyes widened and he swallowed, all the courage he worked up to before dispersed now. “Uh, that was-- that was nothing.” You bit your lip, “You sure?” He nodded quickly, walking past you before you could read the expression on his face, knowing him too well. “It’s fine.”

time skip!

You were all sitting in the bedroom awaiting Whitney’s fate as she entered the temptation room, but you couldn’t help but notice something was different about the room.

Sitting cross legged on the floor as you and George passed the jiggly ball between the pair of you, your eyes scanned the room. Nothing was out of place, everyone’s clothes stayed where they were in the morning, nothing had been added to the room and nothing had been altered in the room. Atleast you thought that until you noticed--

“Oh, my fucking God!” You jumped up off the floor, startling everyone in the room.

“What?” George called out from his position on the floor, chucking the ball between his hands.

“My fucking bed is gone!” You pointed at the vacant space that used to be occupied by your bed. All your items were tucked underneath someone else’s bed and your set of drawers had been moved. “Huh?” George hopped up and stood next to you.

“Holy shit!” He pointed out. You followed his finger to see where his bed was, it had been upgraded to a double bed with a note tucked into the pillows at the top of the bed. The pair of you sprinted over to retrieve the note.

Picking it up, you read its contents. “Your wish is our command, Y/N. Enjoy sharing a bed with George for the rest of the week.”

You covered your mouth in shock and dropped the note on the bed, George picking it up to read it himself to see if you were lying. In the meantime, you saw your drawers were settled on the right side of the bed, jumping towards it, you scanned the insides to see if they had messed with anything else of yours.

Seeing one new item, you slammed the draw shut and walked away from it, leaving the room and shouting, “I hate the Sidemen!”

George looked up from the note and furrowed his brows, lunging over to open the drawer you had reacted to. His mouth dropped open and he fell back onto the bed, looking directly at a camera in the room and pointing at it. “You lot are bastards, you know that?”

And as the camera zoomed into the room, more specifically the drawers. You could just make out a packet of condoms situated in the drawer with a sticky note on top of it saying, ‘No baby Clarkey’s on set please!’

time skip!

“Guys, they’ve got a harmonica on the list. Can I get it?” 

You turned around mid-drawing Milli a body on her banana outfit. George skipped into the room with a wide smile on his face. You nodded eagerly, “Yes! Get it!” You needed him to confirm his first purchase. 

“There’s a harmonica on the list.” He repeated. You dropped the pen you were using to draw on Milli and apologised to her, “Sorry, I have to be there to witness George lose his purchase virginity!” You skipped over to him as he awaited with open arms.

Milli scoffed jokingly, “Won’t be the first time.” You ignored her comment in ignorant bliss as George skipped in utter glee over to the shop.

“I’m gonna get myself a bloody harmonica!” George jumped into the room, his hand linked with yours as he swung your arms back and forth.

He hopped in front of the camera with a little noise, “Hello. Could I please confirm an harmonica? Please? And thank you.” He smirked into the camera.

You jumped onto his back and he tucked his hands under your thighs, hoisting you further up and you felt his back move with the way he laughed. “I’m gonna serenade you every night now, especially with those condoms in our--” “For fucks sake, George!” You pushed yourself off his back laughing, a smile spread across your face as you heard his giggles and him clapping his hands as the trap doors opened. “Open up, give me my--”

He cut himself off with a giggle, “Thank you!” He stared at you and started playing the harmonica, causing you to laugh and bury your head into your hands. He nudged you, “What? You don’t like it?” You opened your mouth to answer, “You don’t think it’s sexy? A guy playing an instrument?” He finished.

You laughed and pointed at the harmonica, “You think that’s an instrument?” George mocked the offense and snatched the item away from your reach, leaning down dangerously close to your face. “No serenading for you tonight!”

time skip!

“I feel like a side piece to George now.” You thought out loud.

Cinna, beside you, barked out in laughter as you stared at George from across the room. “What?”

You shook your head and gestured towards him, “Look how he’s always attached to that harmonica now. That used to be me a couple hours ago!”

Cinna put her head in her hands and continued laughing, “Y/N, you’re so funny.” She nudged you, seeing your mock hurt face as George repeatedly blew on the harmonica, sounding the same two notes over and over as you all patiently waited for Whitney to return with her present.

Cinna looked at you, “He’s literally sat there with party hats as breasts and you’re jealous of a fucking harmonica?” You looked at your lap in shame and tried to cover up a laugh, but Cinna leaned into you which broke you from your attempts to suppress any chuckles.

Whitney appeared back in the room holding a massive box and a card, she opened the card and started reading it out. “Okay, it says, ‘Happy birthday from the Sidemen.’” You nodded along, feeling George settle himself next to you on the sofa and his arms rest on the cushions behind you; his finger gently brushing your shoulder.

“The highest spender is PK Humble. And the lowest spender is Uncle P.” You all turned to glance at the respective people, nerves brewing at what the Sidemen had cooked up with this information

“The highest and lowest spender must make their way to room 19 and agree on someone to eliminate. They have 20 minutes.”

Your jaw dropped to the floor and your hand slipped into George’s, his fingers intertwining with your own as you looked at each other. You willed the other one to stay, neither of you could go home this early and there was a large risk that you could. Your lips trembled slightly as you could feel PK’s eyes on you, swallowing a large lump in your throat as you knew you would be considered an option.

George drew your head close to his, pressing a soft kiss on your temple. “I’m not letting you go.”

taglist (how are u all pookies):

@wherethezoes-at @sidemenslver @multifanxtvshows @bibissparkles @le-le-lea @tiamonetsworld @dopeysunflowers @viagracex @rebeccaw05-blog @sundarksposts @sabbrriiinnaa @lovingaphroditesworld @evisceratedmuke @youtubewag @happyclifford @liz140569 @addiemb8332 @isabellem2909 @madforgeorge @pookietv @georgeclarkeyscakeyass @marijas-stuff @maggie-readss @bambidollstar @lottiewills @lmaowhathaha @sukimoves @randomstufflol29 @isabelle-2934 @sophiexxclarkey @levidazai @smogballsstuff @loveheart-123 @alysbaby @octopusoptimusprime @mylillstuff @landoslvr @essieswurld @swaggerjagger2014 @isla-finke-blog @amyissocool @k0ul1ss @musicforsnoopy @heyitsmefall @fly-me-away @7leb-kakaw @je33123 @theresglittleronthefloor @geliophobias @w2sfever @grantgustluv @yourfavartistsfavartist12

[sandy-the-glader]

Hi I've never really done a request before so I'm not entirely sure I'm doing it right but I love your Adrian Chase work and I was wondering if you could do Vigilante x assassin reader. Like reader is secretly a current or former member of the league of assassin's and how would Adrian react to finding this out

Secrets

Character: Adrian Chase x ExAssasinFem!Reader

(Little bit of fanon Adrian tbh)

Type: Angst with some fluff at the end.

Length: 1.4k words

Summary: Adrian is going through a box of your guy's old stuff and comes across your old assassin suit. He asks about you and your past with crime and he just has one question. Why?

Trope: Established Relationship

A/N: Honestly you guys can make a request however you want and this was perfect. I'm a people pleaser so whatever works for you guys anyway I hope you like a one-shot more on the angsty side :) Ps I'm going to be taking a small break from requests (there are only two I've gotten) and finishing a few George Karim one-shots I started a while ago but have gotten caught up in requests since.

Adrian gripped the suit tightly in his large hands. What? He recognized the design and symbol almost immediately. His eyebrows knit together and with every passing second, he was more and more confused.

His sweet loving and caring girlfriend couldn't have been one of the most well-known assassins. One who he has tried to hunt down himself many times but every single time coming up short-handed. Someone he really used to hate until she disappeared for the better (that was his thoughts anyway) and was rarely mentioned again.

He had the day off and was just wanting to go through some old stuff and make space for other things he and his girlfriend needed to store away.

He really couldn't believe it though. You were always so positive and optimistic about everything he would have assumed murder would be the last thing you thought about. You honestly could say the same thing about him though.

He felt almost betrayed that you never brought this up in any conversation. Did you know who he was? How did you even feel dating a hero? He told you who he truly was a few weeks into dating so you would know what you were getting yourself into and you said it was fine you even loved the idea. The truth was that you felt protected from your past when you were with him but he had no way of knowing that.

The longer he held on to the suit the more he wondered. Was there more he didn't know about? Do you still do this in your free time?

He continued to dig through the box of your old things. Mask, weapons, more clothing, it was all there. All the proof he could need to confront you.

He stood from the spot he had been kneeling on the floor and took a large inhale. He needed a minute to really think about and understand what was going on.

-

Once you got home Adrian set your suit on the bed and walked to the door to finally get some answers he had been craving for all day. The door made small clicking sounds as you unlocked the door. Finally, the door swung open revealing a tired and smiling Y/n.

"Hi Adrian!" You smiled, hugging him as soon as you stepped through the doorway. He slowly wrapped his long arms around you and greeted you with a quiet voice. "Man, I am tired." You said.

He was nervous. He didn't want to break up with you at all but he was confused about how and why you would get into any of this stuff. He had to snap himself out of his thoughts because he had realized you pulled away and now were explaining your mess of a day.

"- and she got me all these papers really late but they had to be in like a week ago." You explained setting your bag down on the couch and slipping your shoes off by the entrance.

"Hey baby?" He spoke nervously.

"Yeah honey, what's up?" you smiled looking up at her Adrian. His face is slightly pale and his eyes are wide. "Are you okay?" Your face softened as you inched closer to him. He stumbled back slightly and you were confused. Did I do something to him? You wondered scanning his facial features, trying to gather any information you possibly could.

You were good at reading people and you could obviously tell something had shocked him. You waited for Adrian's response. His eyes flickered throughout the room everything but your eyes.

"Adrian, what's wrong?" You questioned scared and concerned. You had rarely seen him like this before.

"Um yeah, I just have a question." He nodded trailing off to their shared bedroom. You shuffled through question after question in your head like Adrian had been doing all day. You slowly followed your boyfriend into their room and there you finally noticed your old suit. Everything came flooding back. You had no words at the moment. All of your thoughts had escaped and your head ran empty.

"Where did you find this?" You finally said swallowing thickly. You stared at Adrian with fear. Fear that you thought you had escaped a couple years ago.

"What is this?" He asked even though he knew very well what this piece of fabric meant. You sat next to the fabric and just looked at your hands that were placed in your lap. "Y/n." He said firmly but you could hear something else in his voice.

Fear.

"What is this?" He repeated with a shaky voice.

"I..." You tried to collect your thoughts. You didn't want him to be afraid of you. That's why you liked dating him. He liked you for who she had become not who you used to be. He was kind and showed patience with you and you could never repay him for that.

"I need you to explain. Is this why you never talk about anything from your past?" He spoke now with a firey tone. You looked up and saw his eyes shining with tears beneath his glasses. This is all because of me That thought alone made the truth fall from your lips.

"I used to be a villain." You said. "Obviously." Adrian sat down wanting to hear more of your words.

"Why?" Was the only word that left his lips.

"It was a very low point in my life. I was forced into it since I was a teen and I couldn't stop it. Until I ran away to Evergreen. I was forced into so many painful crimes." You didn't want to talk about this or even remember it for that matter but Adrian deserved to know. He opened up about his past and told you he was a damn superhero. "When I ran away to Evergreen it was to escape far away from those people who tried to make me someone I'm not. Never once did I want to hurt those innocent people. I've tried to forgive myself for what I did each day at a time but I've seen some things no one in a lifetime has seen." You suffered every day from those horrible memories.

"Did you know of me?" Adrian asked softly.

"Vigilante? Yes. Adrian Chase? No."

"Did me telling you that I was Vigilante change anything about our relationship?" His voice trembled. You couldn't blame him.

"No. I loved- no I love you for who you are. When I first met you at Fennel Feilds it was like a beam of hope shined down in my life finally and that was you. Your silly quirks and beautiful personality seemed to make my life better than it ever had been. You made me have something worth living and I really don't want to lose you, Adrian." You let a couple of tears drip down your cheeks but quickly wiped them away because in your head you shouldn't be the one crying about this it should be Adrian. Sure it was a tough patch in your life but you had kept this from Adrian since you met.

"Why didn't you ever tell me this?" He spoke softly.

"I didn't want you to think any less of me." You held the suit in your hands and stared at it. "Finding out that you were a superhero that was after the villain who was me was scary. I love the way you see me. And I don't want you to think of me any differently but I understand that this must change something."

"I mean..." He trailed off. "I just wish you told me sooner. Y/n believe me I love you. I want to spend every moment with you and like that's a lot for me." Adrian showing his dork side again made a smile break out onto your face. "And since you are my girlfriend I might be able to let those things go. You said yourself you were forced into such awful things at a young age and no one should ever have to go through that. And It's not like you're doing any of this activity now right?" He questioned to make sure.

"No of course not."

"Good." He scooted closer to you and hugged you tightly. "I'm sorry you went through that though. You can go over it some other time but I can tell you need dinner."

"Thank you, Adrian. You know I was a little scared you might kill me." You admitted.

"Oh if I was only talking to you and not dating you I would have." He said bluntly.

"Oh my god." You chuckled.

"What? It's true and you know it is!" You shook your head and he looked at you lovingly and proud that you had the courage to share some things from your past. "Now come on I'm starving." He whined.

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Se Zaldrizoti’ Prumia - Chapter 5: The Withering of Hearts (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapter 5: The Withering of Hearts

The Seven Kingdoms is plagued with a succession crisis, and drunken impulse never leads to a good end.

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | 

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

Warnings: Extreme slow burn, angst, Daemon being an ass, excessive costume detailing 

Word Count: 3.4k words 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out!

A/N: thank you guys for the comments you left on the last chapter! it was really nice to see you guys theorising about what would happen next haha 👀 most unfortunately, the slowburn must keep slow-burning, and Daemon isn’t done stirring up shit yet lol. happy reading! PS, please see the end of the chapter for an extended A/N to get a rough grasp of how the next two chapters will be like! 

wonderful dividers courtesy of @firefly-graphics​  !  

Scarce had a week passed since the funeral of Queen Aemma, and the Red Keep was once again abuzz with a new scandal. 

Prince Daemon had been caught at a brothel, raising a drunken toast to the late Queen and her ill-fated babe. 

He had toasted Baelon as the Heir for a Day. 

That fucking bastard. 

Fuming, you lurked in the shadows of the secret passages by the throne room, listening as Viserys denounced his brother in an angry tirade. ‘How dare he?’ your eyes were shining with ferocity as you paced the halls, eyes fixed on the proceedings in the throne room. You had guessed the truth after all: Daemon only wanted to use the power vacuum left by the death of Aemma and Baelon to instil himself as the heir to the Iron Throne. You couldn’t believe you actually thought the advice he offered on the cliffs was an act of goodwill. That maybe, Daemon was not the vicious, annoying little bastard you once knew. 

Alas, you were wrong. And what a fool you felt. 

Your lips were pressed in a thin line as you watched Viserys disinherit Daemon permanently from the line of succession, and watched with your very eyes as the relationship between the two brothers deteriorated into ruin. 

What you didn’t know however, that you had also just witnessed a part of Daemon’s heart wither away into nothing but coldness, as he heard his brother’s proclamation. ‘Was this what grief felt like?’ Daemon bitterly pondered. ‘At long last, I understand how she felt that day.’ 

You moved to navigate out of the secret passageways as soon as Daemon turned his heel to leave the throne room, intent on cornering him for an explanation, or to scream at him. Perhaps both. 

Daemon was lost in a flurry of furious thoughts as he saw a familiar figure step into his way, obstructing his path. Her chin was jutted out defiantly, and the expression of anger on her face was visible. For a moment, Daemon thought she looked like a true Targaryen, with fire and blood running through her veins. He held up a hand to stop whatever reprimand she had for him, eyes dark, “You saw everything that happened in the throne room. I have no need for you to parrot whatever words my dear brother has already bestowed upon me.” 

You have never wanted to slap a man so badly. “Have you no shame?” you demanded, temper flaring. “How could you have been so cruel?” “it was a drunken jape, made of impulse. Why does no one understand that?” Daemon seethed. Your jaw dropped at his audacity, and you stepped forward to jab a finger into his chest, “You, Daemon Targaryen, are truly the scum of the earth. Your nephew has just died. Your sister-in-law has just died! And here you are, making drunken japes with poor taste. Are you so utterly boorish that you would stoop so low to mock the dead?” 

Daemon listened to her, an impatient look upon his face. “Are you quite finished, my lady?” Your eyes widened in outrage, and suddenly, it was like you lost control. You lifted your hand to slap him, but he caught it with a vice grip, eyes narrowed. “Let me go!” you struggled to twist out of his grip, but it was futile. Daemon took the chance to drag you to a more secluded corner of the castle, eyes blazing as he braced himself to confess the truth. 

“If you would just shut up, and listen to me, you daft woman, then I would’ve told you that I didn’t do it!” Daemon snapped. Your jaw sagged, “And now you’re lying to evade your responsibility? Seven Hells, Daemon, you never cease to surprise me.” 

“I didn’t!” Daemon nearly yelled out. His brother would not listen to the truth, but he had a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, Y/N would be the exception. That she would be the only person who didn’t constantly see the worst in him. 

“Aemma was my sister-in-law, and while I did not cross paths oft enough with her that we would consider each other close, she was still dear to me. She was kind to me. Why would I dishonour her memory so? And my nephew. I harbour no grudge against his memory. He was a babe who perished tragically. Do you think I would’ve stooped so low to the point where I would mock my family? Think rationally, byka zaldrizes.” Daemon stared deep into your eyes, an almost pleading look in his eyes. Please, Daemon thought, please believe me. Don’t see as the monster everyone sees me as. Please. 

You bit your lip, looking into Daemon’s violet eyes, glinting orange in the firelight, and pondered on his words. It was true, Daemon had never shown any ill will towards Aemma, and they had always treated each other respectfully. How could you have never considered this possibility? You felt a little ashamed that you had assumed the worst of Daemon, although it had felt like habit by now, but you had grown up with him. You’d like to believe, that under all his brashness and arrogance, that he was still that same boy who snuck out with you nearly every night when you were both children to the kitchens, giggling as you munched on lemon cakes and strawberry tarts. That underneath all his brutality and his lusts, he was still a good person. Your eyes softened as you saw the look in Daemon’s eyes, beseeching you, to believe him. 

Daemon felt his hope dwindle away as he watched you hesitate for a long time, and his eyes began to darken again. So she is the same as everyone else, he thought with much gloom. But your next words took him by surprise. “I...believe you,” you said quietly. 

Daemon stared at Y/N after the words left her lips, lilac eyes filled with disbelief. Then he threw back his head as a hoarse laugh burst from his lips, and he let go of your wrist. You watched uneasily as he continued laughing like a crazed madman, but you said you believed he didn’t do it, and it was always difficult to sway you from your convictions. 

Daemon finally stopped laughing, though a twisted smirk still painted his lips, but it looked more pained than amused. “How is it that you always seem to have faith in me, while even my own brother cannot seem to conjure up the slightest hint of trust for me?” “I know the calibre of your character, Daemon,” you said quietly. “You may be many things, but even you would not be predisposed to such innate cruelness.” 

There was a pause as the both of them eyed each other, Daemon with some disbelief, and you with faith glittering in your eyes. Daemon sometimes had a hard time reconciling how you could both be so naive and wise. “If only,” Daemon muttered bitterly, breaking the silence, “Someone like you was the Hand of the King, instead of that power-hungry leech of a Cunttower.” “The Hand was the one who slandered you?” you blinked in surprise. Daemon let out a snort at your reaction. “You do know that that cunt would never stop until he turns my brother against me, do you not?” 

“But-” you inhaled sharply, “The Hand serves the realm. Otto Hightower might hold a strong dislike for you, but he is not one to let his pettiness blind his judgement-” 

“And what do you know of that cunt’s nature? Do not act as though you know him well,” Daemon spat out, hand running through his hair in frustration. “Would you be so dumb as to believe it is not in his nature to concoct such a scandal to sow discord between me and my brother? He has done so many times, and he will not cease until he has what he wants: which is uncontrolled access to my brother so that he may sway him with the venom he spouts from his lips.” His purple eyes were dark with rage, and his fists were clenched as he gritted his teeth. 

Suddenly, without warning, he swung and struck his fist on the wall. You covered your mouth to stifle your gasp, wide eyes watching as he breathed heavily and withdrew his fist from the wall. A sheen of scarlet covered his knuckles. For a long moment, the air was filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing. 

“House Targaryen cannot stand like this,” his voice was more tempered now, yet more steely. “We were raised with the belief to stay together. That no matter the circumstances, the house of the dragon cannot divide.” His voice grew more agitated as he began pacing around in circles, while you observed him warily and listened, knowing that no good would come out of interrupting him. “What happened to preservation? What happened to ensuring our dynasty lasts for eternity?” he snapped, banging his fists on the walls once again in frustration. “My dearest brother always stressed the importance of family. Yet he continuously allows those scum on the Small Council to rule his kingdom, and worse still, he allows that Hightower cunt to guide him.” 

In a heartbeat, he was in front of you once more, seizing your shoulders in a vice grip. You stiffened at the sudden gesture, but there was no stopping him now. “He should’ve made me Hand. I am his kin, I am of his blood,” he nearly shouted out those last two words. “I would never steer my brother in the wrong direction. If he would have more faith in me instead of those lickspittle lords, House Targaryen could surpass even the noble dragonlords of Old Valyria at the height of their power. Yet he is blind to all that, preferring to stew idly.” You were unsure of what to say, however Daemon paid no heed to your speechlessness, turning away from you and muttering, “He will see that without me, he would not be able to run this city, much less the realm.” 

It was then you finally found your voice once more. “What are you planning to do?” He turned to you, with a baleful gleam in his eyes. In that moment, he looked like Balerion’s fury reborn once more. Your heart filled with dread at his next words. 

“Wait.” 

You watched pensively as he stalked down the halls, his demeanour much like a predator stalking its prey. Just as he was about to turn the corner, he stilled, and said coldly, “You should wisen up, you know.” 

You furrowed your brows. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.” 

He didn’t turn around, yet you could picture the menace on his face as he spoke his next words. “Just think, if court gossip was enough to get me, a Targaryen prince, to be disinherited and banished, what exactly do you think it can do to you, a mere lady of no status and influence at court?” 

“I’m not like you-” Daemon didn’t let you finish. He knew his words were cruel, but with the fire pumping through his veins and the roaring in his ears, seven hells be damned if he was still going to be polite. You needed to know, you needed to understand, that survival was a treacherous thing here in the Red Keep, how relying on the power of people above you for protection was foolish. People with power are oft mercurial, and once the tide of their favour turned against you, like it had with Daemon…

He needed you to see just how much danger you were in staying in this court of vipers. 

“Who knows, maybe you would end up ordered home by your lord father and forced to marry by the morrow. Seven Hells,” he chuckled darkly, recalling your conversation at the cliffs, “Maybe you might even be ordered out of court by the King. He can barely stomach the sight of my niece after Aemma’s death. What will he do to you, who was so close to my dear late sister-in-law?” He heard a shocked gasp behind him, but he didn’t pause in his tirade, though a twinge of something like guilt filled his chest. But he wanted you to know, to see, how this court was filled with nothing but vicious schemers who would not care a fig about her. And so, with malice in his voice, he forced out the final crushing blow. “Mayhaps you will end up like my dear sister-in-law even, her belly cut open as if she were nothing but an animal. Even if she had been Queen, that did not save her regardless.” 

You stared at Daemon’s back with wide eyes, a mix of rage and horror seeping through your bones. Somehow his words brought about such a chill in you that even the coldest winter nights were incapable of. “Have a good night, Lady Y/N. Think about what I said. I trust that you are clever enough to come to your senses.” ‘You have to tread carefully now, Y/N,’ was Daemon’s final thought as he stalked away from your still frame. 

You waited until his heavy footsteps faded away, before slowly sinking down onto the floor, mind in a daze. 

You stayed there for a long time, unable to move a muscle. Daemon’s cruel last words had conjured up a sleight of images in your head, each more horrific than the last, and all of Aemma, of being forced to wed, your freedom snatched from your very eyes. Eventually, the sound of footsteps approaching made you aware of your whereabouts once more, and you quickly stood up before a servant wandered across your despairing frame and asked you some awkward questions. Numbly, you made your way through the halls, back to Aemma’s apartments. You paused in front of a familiar door. Aemma’s bedchambers had been left untouched since her death, save for the removal of her blood soaked sheets. You thought you could not bear to even be in the place where your dear friend had breathed her last, painful moments in this world, but you needed the company tonight, even if it was the company of a woman long dead. You inhaled shakily before opening the doors. 

The room was quiet, the stench of blood having not quite dissipated yet, which sent a wave of nausea rolling through your gut. You ventured towards the lounge where Aemma used to sit, where you had fed her grapes and laughed with her no less than a week ago. You took a seat gingerly. Your gaze wandered across the room, before it fixed grimly on Aemma’s deathbed. 

Moonlight streamed through the windows, and you wrapped your shawl tighter around you as a cold gust of wind enveloped the room. You had been winded and horrified, and even angry at Daemon’s words when they were first spoken. You wanted to ignore his words as that of someone who was bitter and raging, but your thoughts kept spiralling into terrifying scenarios of your freedom being snatched right in front of your eyes, and being utterly powerless to do anything to stop it. You had spent so long, relishing in the freedom of being home at the Red Keep, and now, you realised darkly, that you had taken it for granted. 

Tracing your fingers along the soft material of the lounge, you bit your lip as you imagined the wide smile Aemma always reserved for you and her soft voice, like she was still here, sitting right next to you. “Aemma…” you thought mournfully, tears clouding your vision, “You always knew the right thing to say, and the right thing to do. What course of action would you have advised me to do?’ You tilted your head back, resting your head on the lounge backing, letting your tears fall freely. ‘I wish you were here,’ you sniffled, ‘I wish I had saved you.’ Mayhaps the thought was utterly ludicrous, but you felt guilty and pained that you had allowed yourself to get distracted by the tourney. ‘I should have insisted on staying by your side,’ your thoughts tumbled out bitterly, like a violently raging storm. As wishful as it was, but you thought, maybe you could’ve prevented it all. Maybe you could have pleaded with Viserys that the effort was useless or fiercely declared that you would snatch the Maester’s own blade and slaughter whomever dared harm Aemma. However, even you could not change the gods’ plan: the babe had been in breech, and Aemma’s time in this world was fated to be cut short no matter what. But you didn’t even care to think of that fact, too lost in your self-loathing and blame. 

Just then, you felt a soft hand on your shoulder, jolting you out of your reverie. Startled, you looked around the room. There was no one there. But you could’ve sworn that for one moment…there had been a presence here. Could…could it have been Aemma’s ghost? 

Heart thumping, you stood up with shaky legs and began to tidy up the various misplaced items in Aemma’s room, like you had done so many times before. The familiar ritual calmed you down, and allowed for you to gather your thoughts and circumstances coherently again. Perhaps it was coupled with the strange phantom presence you swore you sensed in the room somehow, but you pulled yourself out of your grief long enough to settle on a resolute thought. 

‘Daemon was right. I do need to wake up. It’s time I stop relying on the grace of those more powerful than me and start fighting to protect myself.’

In that moment, even the Seven would be taken aback by the fierce fire that shone in Lady Y/N Tyrell’s eyes. The naive girl of 23 was gone, and someone more hardened had replaced her. 

‘No matter the cost, I must stay at the Red Keep. I will not end up shoved into a fate I do not desire. I refuse.’ 

‘I have a plan.’ 

The bells tolled in celebration as all the lords and ladies of the realm were gathered before the Iron Throne, save for one. The Rogue Prince soothed his mount, the Blood Wyrm, Caraxes, as the figure of Lady Mysaria approached. 

Meanwhile, a lady with a mind of steel and heart of determination stood with her hands clasped, next to the Lady Alicent and Lord Hand, where the King had insisted for her to be. The lords who were acquainted with her whispered to themselves, having known of her hot-tempered past and rivalry with none other than the Rogue Prince himself. “The Rose with Thorns of Fire,” some whispered. “The third head of the dragon,” some chuckled, referring to the affectionate nickname the late Prince Baelon had given to your rather unusual trio: you, Daemon and Viserys. 

The lady heard them all, but she was silent as she watched each of the great lords of the realm swear their fealty to the new heir, the first Princess of Dragonstone. Clad in a dark blue gown of silk and brocade with a square neckline, the dress drew whispers for its visible opulence, even compared to the other ladies who were decked out in their finest. The bodice consisted of intricate diamond patterning with beading, and the gown had puffed sleeves that were banded with a few stripes of rocaille brocade, and the ruffles of her chemise were visible at her neckline and at the end of her puffed sleeves. Underneath the ruffles, however, were long fitted sleeves that were strangely reminiscent of…dragon scales? It was a look that undoubtedly signified the allegiances of Lady Y/N to House Targaryen, as well as her close bond to their reigning monarch. It was a look that exuded power. 

Far away in the Dragonpit, Daemon took one last look at the Red Keep, lips pursed as his mind lingered on that one person. But then he shook his head, and bade Caraxes to soar through the skies. 

As the lords and ladies in the throne room burst into applause and bowed for their new heir: The Realm’s Delight, no one but you could hear the distinct screech of the Blood Wyrm as it lifted into the skies. 

You lifted your head, and smiled encouragingly at Rhaenyra, who, while visibly looked startled, returned a genuine, warm smile. 

The game of thrones had gained a new player, forged by Daemon Targaryen’s hand, and time would only strengthen her mettle.

Taglist: @drwho-ess @graniairish @urmomsgirlfriend1 @thelittleswanao3 @animelover18 @llovinjoonie @gracielikegrapes @salembridger @itszzmoon @kmmg98​ @travelingmypassion​ @zae5​

Daemon General Taglist: @aiyaiy​ 

those who are bolded are those who couldn’t be tagged! let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist for this fic or for my other hotd characters in the comments or through this form! thank you for your support 💗

translation: byka zaldrizes - little dragon 

also, a sketch i did of y/n’s gown at rhaenyra’s investiture :)) uncolourised because I’m lazy 😭 hopefully it’ll give you a better visualization though (also a/n below! pls scroll to read :))

y/n about to become the fashion icon of westeros 💪🏻

A/N (pls read!) : and that makes chapter 5! chapter 6 will unfortunately, we will not be focusing a lot on daemon for the next 2 chapters as we will be delving more into how Y/N attempts to navigate court politics and keep herself at the red keep. in other words, character development for y/n and more moments with alicent and rhaenyra, as well as viserys (ugh). this fic is titled se zaldrizoti’ prumia for a reason, after all, it’s the dragons’ heart, not the dragon’s heart, so Y/N needs her other relationships with the other characters. i hope you guys will be as excited for the other chapters as i am though, because i love writing about politics and character dynamics outside of romantic relations. thank you for your support! 💗