#sorry i took so long to answer! i wanted to draw fred for this but struggled to actually do it

[restart-the-cycle]

it seems your back on my radar! if your wondering what happend to sheol, he's currently in employee detention. there was this big event, and it turned out he left a vessil alive for too long, and it went evil.

anyways, i was told that you like lizards! can i see your most prized experement?

-Artist

of course! here is fred, he is a “big bang lizard”, my own creation! some people find him dangerous but he isn’t really that bad! he is a mix between an inv and a caramel lizard, able to spit the eggs inv makes like a caramel lizard. he’s not all that smart, but that’s fine

(ooc: this is an accurate (ish) size comparison for the two, fred is massive. his size will also be wildly inconsistent every time i draw him)

[livinginshambles]

I want to be loved first | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.0k

Summary: Established relationship and angst: James still loves Lily, it's clear to you. You try to ignore the way your heart aches when you always seem to be second on his mind, knowing you will never compare to her and unsure how much more you can take.

Notes: Its happy ending again, sorry guys. I'd say no beta, we die like fred, but that feels too soon so anyway, spelling and grammar mistakes probably.

Masterlist

____________________________

People have often told you that you need to toughen up and grow a spine. That your lack of backbone had everyone trample on you like you were a crosswalk, and you could definitely say that they were right.

Perhaps that's why you were crying in the middle of the night because of James Potter. He was laying behind you, pressed against your back with an arm draped over you. His face was hidden in the back of your neck, breathing steadily against it as he slept peacefully, unaware of the heartache he was causing you when he whispered Lily's name. Again.

When he'd done it the first time, your blood had run cold, goosebumps showing up and littering your bare arms. Tears had prickled in your eyes at his barely audible, mumbled confession. "Love you so much Lily."

You had turned around to face him and your rustling had woken him up. Eyes still closed, he'd groggily shifted and pulled you against his chest. “Everything alright, love?”

“Yeah, just a nightmare,” you had responded in a small voice. Your answer had him finally open his eyes, somewhat concerned. He had lifted his arm to yawn against it and then settled it back on top of you in such a way that his hand had easy access to your nape, drawing circles in an attempt to calm you.

“I've got you, love. Nothing can hurt you, as long as I'm here,” he had assured you.

Ironic.

So now here you were lying down, your tears were freely rolling down your face and you were glad that the curtains of the bed were closed, leaving you in a private space, despite sleeping in the boy’s dormitory. It would be another sleepless night for you, it seemed.

When James stretched his arms to reach for you about four hours later, he frowned and sat up, confused at the lack of your presence. He pushed the red drapes aside and peeked into the room. Sirius was still asleep, face down. Peter was most likely curled up inside the pile of blankets on his bed and Remus was sitting up in bed, a book in his lap.

Even though it was the weekend, and you were anything but an early bird, you slipped out of bed in the early morning. You were sure that your eyes were red and puffy and didn’t want James to mention it.

He looked up when he heard James and raised his eyebrows in question when he noticed no one else behind him. “Have you seen Y/N?” James asked, sleep still heavily laced in his voice. Remus shook his head in thought. “No,” he whispered quietly, an eye on Sirius beside him. “I’ve been up since four in the morning though.”

James’ frown deepened. That meant that you had snuck out before that. But why? He got dressed impressively fast and descended the stairs to the common room. You were sitting at the tip of your chair, deeply engrossed into your transfiguration assignment, several books piled, some laying open, scattered across the small table.

You felt two arms securely wrap around you, almost melting in their designated position. “Morning,” James kissed your cheek.

You bit your lip, took a breath, and cast your hurt feelings aside. You turned your head and flashed him a smile. “Good morning, Jamie.” James took the opportunity of your head, tilted upwards at him, and dipped down to press his lips softly against yours, pecking you once, twice. “You’re up early,” he commented and nudged you. He slipped behind you, body fully relaxing into your back now.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you replied honestly and you leaned back into him. You laughed softly when you noticed his eyes drooping. “You’re tired, Jamie. Go back to sleep.” James made a sound but didn’t move, instead slouching even more against you.

“Hm, no, I missed you this morning. I’ll stay here,” he decided and drifted off to sleep. You didn’t doubt that he loved you.

“Go on a date with me next Friday,” James asked you while he was escorting you to your herbology class. You looked up at him surprised. “A date?” you dumbly repeated, trying not to be too excited about the prospect of a date. James usually ended up having things to do that he really couldn't get out of, so you would always end up canceling your dates.

James laughed and slung his arm around your shoulders. “Exactly. You and me alone. I was thinking of a picnic by the lake, no one else around, and maybe we could snog, but I’m also down to cuddle.” Your eyes crinkled up amusedly. “Don’t you have Quidditch, Jamie,” you raised your eyebrows. “You always have Quidditch practice after class,” you pointed out.

“Not next Friday. I already checked to make sure I didn't double book anything, and I warned Pads that I'm not taking on any new pranks until next week to avoid detention.” he grinned. “Friday will be one of those rare days when I have time to have my girl all to myself the entire afternoon.” His face then turned apologetic. “I know I don’t have much time to take you out, so Friday'll be perfect and I’ll make it up to you.” You threw your arms around his neck and hummed appreciatively in it. “I’d love that.”

James wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a kiss. “Prongs!” Sirius shouted from a distance. “Everyone is already waiting for you for Quidditch practice, how far are you going to escort her? I mean the greenhouse is on the other side of Hogwarts, mate,” Sirius complained but he blew you a dramatic kiss that James waved away with a sour look.

“Go on,” you laughed and untangled yourself from his arms. He quickly pressed a kiss to your lips and sprinted off towards the Quidditch field.

James dropped into the seat next to you. “Long time no see, love,” he said. You snorted. “James, I saw you two hours ago.” James shrugged, and flirtily smiled. “I said what I said.”

Professor McGonagall entered the classroom and class started. You were jotting down everything she said in a neat handwriting, knowing that James would end up asking to lend your notes, of course by offering kisses in return.

You glanced beside you and were surprised to find him hunched over his notebook, scribbling away. Impressed at the thought that he was actually paying attention, you couldn’t help but peer down at his notes and saw that he was sketching a girl.

Though he wasn’t the greatest artist, you could clearly see that the girl on the paper looked nothing like you, and instead had features that were strikingly similar to Lily. When James looked up from his drawing and glanced to his right where she was sitting, her eyes focused on Professor McGonagall, you felt your heart constrict again, but still decided not to comment on it. He was free to draw whoever he felt like drawing, you reminded yourself.

Jealousy is ugly.

You were sitting in the library, helping a third year with Defense against the dark arts theory, when James barged in, earning several disturbed looks and a threatening glare from the librarian.

“James?” you called to him quietly and motioned for him. James’ eyes spotted you and he slid over to you, wringing his hands together, biting his lips and his eyes darting around.

“You’re nervous,” You remarked while you eyed him up and down. “Or you feel bad. What is it?”

James let out a deep sigh at your bluntness, though he supposed it would be better to get straight to the point. “We can’t go on a date next week, I’ve got prefect stuff, gotta patrol.” You stared at him, your disappointment was visible on your face and James looked at the ground.

“But you already had patrol this week? Isn’t it every other week?” You asked, a bummed out look on your face.

“Well, actually, Lily asked me if I could do rounds with her next week,” he admitted. “Her usual assigned partner was injured during Quidditch practice apparently.”

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say. You were pretty sure she could ask anyone else for next week or just do the rounds herself as you’ve seen James do it alone for two weeks too when his assigned partner had gone home for a family emergency.

“Is it really vital that you have to go?” You couldn’t help but ask.

"I already said yes." James offered an apologetic smile. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. We can go on a date the week after.” There was a pause and then, “Actually that’ll probably have to wait for the week after that.”

'Imagine having to schedule a simple date, three to four weeks in advance and even then not being guaranteed that nothing would come in between,' you sighed.

You shrugged, a sudden wave of defeat and exhaustion crashing over you. Why did you have to compete for your boyfriend in the first place? 'How tiring', you realized.

You waved him away. “It can’t be helped, I guess,” you somewhat coldly told him, and turned back to the student next to you who was awkwardly looking away. James stood next to you in silence for a moment, still looking at you. You looked up at the lack of the sound of receding footsteps and looked at him questioningly, waving your hand in a ‘what is it?’ manner.

“I can tell her no,” James said, something that looked like a pout on his face. He hated making you feel bad, despite constantly but unconsciously doing it.

“You don’t want to tell her no,” you retorted.

"I would for you.”

“Well, considering that you haven’t told her no by now and are instead here telling me that we have to rearrange our plans, I think you should just go help Lily with rounds.”

James was taken aback by your bitter tone, eyes immediately wide, alarmed that you were really affected by his decision. “Love, I-“

You waved your hand again. “No, I’m sorry,” you apologized before he could. You rubbed your eyes in an exhausted manner. Jealousy was not a good look, you reminded yourself again. “Just really looked forward to that picnic with just you and me.”

“We’ll still have that picnic another time though,” James tried to assure you, but you were no longer looking at him. He realized that the conversation was over and that you wanted to be left alone right now.

“I love you,” James tried one last time and you sighed. " I love you more.” Your words resonated even after James left, knowing that they might be more true than you wanted to admit. You cleared your throat and when you faced the girl next to you, she shot you a sympathetic look.

The last drop was during Potions class. Potions was something you were good at. Maybe not better than Severus Snape, but you did excel in it.

So, if there was one class in which you expected James to want to be your partner, it was Potions class. Perhaps it was arrogant of you to assume such a thing, because when Professor Slughorn had announced that everyone would be paired up, and asked James who he wanted to partner up with, you hadn't expected him to glance at Lily first, which resulted in Professor Slughorn pairing the two together before James could say your name, which in his defense, was what he was planning on saying.

Without sparing you a glace, he left your table to take the seat next to Lily's. Sure, it was mostly a miscommunication issue on Slughorn's part, but did James have to skip over so happily?

“Love you so much, Lily.”

The words repeated in your head when you saw him look at her so fondly and before you could stop yourself, you scribbled a message on a piece of paper, in which you asked him to meet you in the tower, before sending it his way.

You had clung onto James because you were absolutely in love with him and refused to lose him. But it really was a futile battle, you would never compare to her. His first crush, first love, first kiss if you count that one time during ‘spin the bottle’ and his first heartbreak. You’ll always be second, even if he genuinely loves you.

James snapped his head up at you from his attempted conversation with Lily when he got your note, suddenly remembering you, but you were laughing, engrossed in a conversation with a flustered Peter who had almost set the two of you on fire by adding the wrong ingredient. When you left class, you saw James and Lily still talking while calmly packing up.

James entered the tower, holding the note that you had passed him during class. He was smiling cheekily and quickly skipped over, arms ready to wrap around your waist as he leaned in for a kiss, no doubt thinking you asked him to sneak away for a snog.

“We need to talk,” you stopped him, and his grin fell from his face, a serious expression now adorning it. “Everything alright love?” he asked, an odd feeling growing inside of him at your tone. He was suddenly rather unsure if he really wanted to.

'Nothing better than to rip the band aid off', you thought.

“I want to break up.”

There was a long moment of silence while James was registering your words, repeating them in his head over and over again to see if there was any chance that he could have interpreted that incorrectly.

“What?” He eventually said out loud in disbelief. Though he wanted to step forward, reach for you and hold you tightly as if to show that he wouldn’t let you go, his body was inwilling to move.

“Why are y-, I thought we were good?” The crack in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by you. Your heart ached for him, but you were determined to stay strong and say your piece for once. To voice your thoughts and go through with tough decisions that you knew would be for the better.

“We’re not, James,” you sighed. “I know that you know that.”

James shook his head in denial. “No, I don’t know that,” he insisted. His brain was racking through all the instances where he did something wrong and - with the exception of next Friday's date - came up blank.

“But you love me,” he stated, mostly to himself, but it came out more of a question. “Of course,” you confirmed without hesitation.

James’ body finally unfroze, and he surged forward, his hands fumbled to hold your hands. “And I love you,” he stressed, panic starting to rise up. “I love you so much, I’ll take a Veritaserum potion if you want. I just, why would you-, I don’t understand the problem-,”

“I know you love me, James. The problem is that I love you so much more,” you calmly interrupted him. James’ eyes scanned your face to look for answers because none of it maded sense to him.

“I want someone who loves me as much as I love him. Someone who gives me all his love, not just a part that he managed to set apart for me too. And I want to be loved first. Not second. I don't want to be a consolation prize because your first option didn't work out.”

James’ eyes flickered in realization, but his head was still shaking in denial. “I am that someone,” he urged, trying to convince you. He shot you a pleading look. “I love you first, I swear.” He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, and you pulled it away from his grasp.

“Not first,” you shook your head sadly. “Not when you call for Lily in your sleep, and whisper that you love her.” You watch as James’ frown deepened, mixed expressions crossing his face in surprise, confusion and even bewilderment.

Would he not even admit it?

“Not when you have us rearrange our plans for her, when you draw portraits of her during class, or when you practically jump to be her potions partner. I'm not stupid, James. I see the way you look at her.” You continued to list off the things that happened just this past week, not even bothering to mention all the things that bothered you the past months. Your eyes looked sad and tired, and you took another deep breath. “So, I want to break up.”

James felt like crying, his mind thinking back to everything you said, and knowing that you were right. “I’m sorry,” he tried. “I’m an absolute twat, I know that. I promise you I don’t love Lily, she’s just still very important to me.” You offered him a sympathetic smile.

“I know she’s important to you, I just think that maybe you don’t know what or who you want. And I won’t share my boyfriend anymore, I’m selfish like that,” You joked halfheartedly. James didn’t react, save for wrapping his arms around you. You allowed James to embrace you and he buried his head in your hair, his eyes closed as if he wanted to go to sleep and forget this was happening.

“Okay,” James whispered. What else was he supposed to say?

You closed yours as well. James would get over you in no time, you were certain. You two hadn’t been dating for that long, and perhaps James could find a happy ending in Lily after all.

James had sort of avoided you after that. You thought he was doing it because he was angry, but in reality, he was just scared that he would burst into tears the moment he saw you, and he refused to watch you laugh happily, swatting your friend while he wanted nothing more than to hold your hand again.

His mind had completely become occupied by you and he stayed in bed over the weekend, mostly wallowing in self-pity and misery.

When Monday started, he had skipped all classes and only dragged himself out of bed for Quidditch practice and patrol with Lily. Walking next to her in silence, occasionally glancing at her, he felt his stomach sink again. How ironic that when he looked at Lily, all he could think about was you.

James walked through the corridor on Friday, on his way to the courtyard to meet up with Lily again to do rounds with her. He hadn’t been able to sleep peacefully without you. At first, he had been thinking about every instance where he prioritized Lily over you, and it had him curse himself out in his pillow. He missed you. It was so ridiculous, but he missed you to the point that he would curl up in bed with a stomach ache.

He had finally drifted off when at some point in the middle of the night, he had been shaken awake by Sirius.

“What?” James had asked, his throat dry and raspy. He’d looked around, disoriented.

“Thought you were having a nightmare Prongs. You kept mumbling her name. How much you loved her,” Sirius had handed James a glass of water.

James became wide awake and sat up straight in panic. “Lily?” He had asked Sirius, his stomach turning with nausea. He still couldn’t believe that he really talked about Lily in his sleep when you were lying next to him.

“What? No, Y/N’s name of course.” Sirius had corrected him. 'Of course,' James shook his head at Sirius’ words. “Figured you were reliving your breakup,” Sirius had explained.

James was looking through the passing windows of the castle where he could see the lake in the far distance. Suddenly something in his brain clicked. What in Godrick's name was he doing, avoiding you? Why was he giving up on you without a fight? You both loved each other; he was just the idiot who couldn’t sort himself out. But it didn’t take him longer than a terrible week to open his eyes.

James’ pace increased and he ran through the corridor. “No running in the corridors young man,” a portrait commented, but he paid it no mind.

Lily was already waiting for him and raised her eyebrows at his disheveled state and the basket that he was carrying. “I can’t do rounds with you today,” he puffed out. “I told Y/N that I would take her out for a picnic and then you asked me if I could help, and I agreed, but it’s so stupid because I should be-, I am choosing her,” James ranted. “I’m not letting you come first, or even second.”

Lily wasn’t really sure what James was rambling on about but gave him a kind smile, nonetheless. “Well, what are you waiting for,” she encouraged him. “Sounds to me like you shouldn’t be here, but somewhere else.”

“Yeah, I definitely should.”

You sat by the lake, skipping stones from a sitting position, not that you were having any luck. You hadn't seen James in a while because he avoided you, and you felt sadness wash over you. You were sure that he would get over you quick enough, but you wondered how long would it take for you to get over him?

You heard rustling behind you but kept facing forward. It was only when a delicious smell reached you, that you turned around, slightly annoyed that someone would really choose this spot to have an afternoon meal at when they could’ve sat literally anywhere else near the lake, as well as choose this moment when you wanted to act like a depressed main protagonist gazing in the distance.

You were, however, not prepared to see James stand behind you, out of breath and making his way over to you, a blanket and food spread out behind him. He didn’t really need to say anything. You understood from the way he showed up here, a hopeful expression on his face.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you got up, dusting yourself off.

"Hi," James breathed. An unsure smile formed on his face when you waved back. "I uh, I brought food." He awkwardly motioned to the picnic behind him and you couldn't help but smile at his adorableness.

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere else,” you couldn’t help but lightheartedly remark. James let out an airy chuckle, immediately relaxing at your open demeanor.

“100% sure I’m where I should be,” he affirmed. He considered his words and corrected himself. "Where I want to be."

His words had you take off in a sprint towards him and James opened his arms to catch you when you jumped, locking your legs around him. Ironically enough, it felt as if a weight had fallen off of James. His head fell against your shoulder and he shakily laughed while your blouse stained with tears of relief.

"I'm really sorry," he looked up at you, still holding you steadily. You leaned down to press your forehead against his, and your hands came up to his cheeks. "You made up your mind," you said, but it came out like a question, and James nodded hastily.

"And you'll make it up to me."

"Of course," he earnestly replied. "I want us. I'll fight for us." You closed the gap between the two of you.

“I love you,” he whispered breathlessly against your lips.

Not first or second, not more, most or less. He just loves you.

Taglist:

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[pufflyhallows]

The Tryouts

Pairing: Oliver Wood x reader

Request: @cokecola4211 Harry Potter imagine Oliver flirts with Harry sister at the Gryffindor warm up tryouts. / Harry Potter imagine the reader is Harry sister and Oliver tries asking the reader out to.

a/n: sorry for taking so long!

Warnings: none.

Word count: 1,6k

You were excited.

It was the quidditch tryouts and the Gryffindor team was looking for a new chaser to replace Katie Bell. Your younger brother was already on the team and that made you even more excited. It would be fun to play alongside him, representing your house and also your family. You liked to think your dad would be proud of both of his kids. So, needless to say, this was important to you.

You woke up extra early to have breakfast and meet with Harry, who was already in the Great Hall with the rest of the team and a few other students who were maybe just early birds. Or maybe they were there for the tryouts too. You hoped it was the former.

“Nervous?” he asked as you sat down beside him.

“Good morning to you too,” you said. “And no, I am not.”

“So your sister will be trying?” Fred Weasley asked from across the table. “I reckon it will be a tight dispute.”

“Why? Is there no room for another set of siblings?” you inquired back.

“I’m just saying there will be a lot of people trying this year.”

“Again, why?”

“Well, we always have more than a few contestants,” George Weasley explained. “But this is Oliver’s last season. He’s been encouraging nearly everyone to try their chance. He wants to win the cup.”

You looked over at Oliver Wood, the team’s captain, who was sitting a few seats away from you, drinking from his glass of juice, seemingly clueless to the conversation.

“Oh,” you said, “Then he should let me in. I’ve been training all summer.”

“Some people have been training all their lives,” Angelina Johnson fired back.

“I didn’t have that opportunity,” you answered, leaving her uncomfortable. Harry smirked.

“Sorry”, she said.

“Well, I’m rooting for ya,” Fred said as he and George stood up, “It’d be cool to have another Potter on the team.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at him.

“Don’t get too excited,” Harry warned as the twins left, “There will be a lot of people.”

“That’s a lot of faith you have in me, brother.”

“C’mon, team,” Oliver Wood suddenly said as he stood up, “I would like to practice a bit before the other students get there.”

Harry, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson prepared to follow him.

“Can I come?” you asked Harry, who shrugged.

“Ask Oliver.”

For God’s sake, you thought.

“Hum, Oliver?” you called and the boy, who was already leaving, turned around. He looked at you as if he didn’t expect to see you there.

“Yes?”

“Can I come? I know the tryouts are at 8 and it’s still 7, but I would like to watch you guys practice.”

“You’re up this early for the tryouts?” he asked. You looked at Harry, who shrugged again.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Hm, I like your readiness,” he said, “Let’s go.”

You smiled, thinking that maybe you had gained a few points already. You grabbed whatever you could to eat on the pitch and followed the others.

It wasn’t too hot outside, and soon you made your way to the stands. The team gathered in the center of the pitch, brooms in hand, and you could see that Oliver was talking to them, probably telling them what they were going to be doing today. You took a bite of your ham sandwich and sat back to watch as they flew away.

Harry was going to practice by himself, as usual, while Alicia and Angelina practiced shooting the Quaffle at Oliver, who was at the goalposts. Fred and George practiced with each other.

Normally, you would watch your brother, but something was drawing your attention towards Oliver Wood. He was the captain. He was the one you needed to impress. And that was his last year at Hogwarts, which meant you really needed to impress him. That finally made you nervous, something you weren’t before.

Angelina managed to grab the Quaffle from Alicia and flew towards Oliver, who had his eyes fixed upon the ball. You felt your heart start to beat faster with excitement to see him defend. Angelina threw the Quaffle at the first goalpost, and Oliver raced to his right, stretching his arm out and touching the ball with his fingertips, just enough to get it out of its way to the goal. You smiled. And suddenly Oliver had his eyes on you. He had a proud look on his face and seemed satisfied to know that you had seen that.

Then, your eyes were back on your brother, your cheeks slightly warmer. You spent the rest of the practice paying attention to him, while he chased the Snitch again and again, catching it every time. You wished your dad could see him now.

Oliver called the team back to the center of the pitch, and everyone got down from their brooms. They talked a little bit and then Harry waved at you, telling you to go there. You pointed at yourself as if to say ‘me?’ and he motioned ‘come here’ again. You stood up and got down from the stand, entering the pitch and walking towards them.

“Practice with us,” Harry said as soon as you approached them.

“Right now?” you asked, surprised.

“Yes. Right now. Go get a broom.”

“Give me a lift,” you asked and he rolled his eyes, but got on his broom anyway. You got on the back and you both flew to the locker room, where you picked a broom to use.

“But hey, why am I practicing with you guys before the others?” you asked, curious.

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged for the third time that morning, “It was Oliver’s idea.”

“Hm,” you thought. Oliver’s idea. Maybe he wanted to see if the other Potter was just as good? Either way, you couldn’t not think that you were getting a little advantage over the others.

Once you were back on the pitch, Oliver approached you.

“I want you to work against Alicia and Angelina, okay? You’re on the opposite team. They’ll try to take the Quaffle from you and you won’t let them. Then, you’ll shoot at me. Understood?”

“Understood,” you replied, slightly nervous.

He handed you the Quaffle and everyone got on their brooms, flying high in the air. You followed. When everyone was on their positions, Oliver whistled. It had started. On your left, Alicia came flying fast, Angelina was on your right. You quickly flew down below them, making them almost collide on each other. Before they could recover, you were already flying fast towards the second goalpost, where Oliver was.

You flew as close as you could, and then threw the ball at the first goalpost, but Oliver was just as fast as you, and caught the Quaffle before it could go through.

“Damn it!” you shouted. Oliver smiled, spinning the ball in his hand.

“So close,” he said, “But not close enough,” then he winked at you.

“Let’s do it again,” you challenged, feeling flustered with that wink.

“Sure thing.”

Oliver gave Alicia the ball and told her she would be in your place now, with you and Angelina working together.

He whistled and it started. Alicia went to your left as fast as she could, and you followed, but suddenly she moved to the right, faster than you could tail her. You spun in the air trying to catch her, but she was gone. Angelina was right behind her, though, so you flew towards Oliver, already predicting Angelina’s next move. The chase was spectacular, with both girls going up and down. But much to Alicia’s dislike, Angelina was faster, and soon grabbed the ball from her hands. You were in the right position, close to the first goalpost, with Oliver flying in front of the middle one, but still closer to you. Angelina, then, threw the Quaffle over to you, and you caught it just fine, flying straight to the first goal. As soon as Oliver moved to his right, you shot the ball with your whole strength to the third goalpost, past him, who wasn’t quick enough to try and catch it. You scored a goal.

“Yes!” you shouted, quite happy with yourself.

“Well done,” Oliver said in an admiring tone, “Not bad at all. Let’s do it again!”

This time, Angelina was alone against you and Alicia. Through teamwork, Alicia almost scored a goal, but Oliver was able to catch it. He then called everyone to the center of the pitch once again.

“We’ll do the tryouts as a formality, but I think we have our new chaser right here,” Oliver announced.

You looked over at Harry, who was smiling. The rest of team cheered and congratulated you.

“Are you serious?” you asked in disbelief.

“Of course I am,” he said, “I know talent when I see it. And you definitely have it, Ms. Potter.”

You smiled at him and thanked everyone.

“We can take five to rest!” Oliver said to the team, and most of them left the pitch, except for you and him.

“What happens when we do the tryouts and you realize there’s someone better than me?” you asked sincerely.

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” he replied with the same sincerity.

“How can you be so sure? I mean, this was my first practice.”

“And you scored a goal against people who have been playing competitively for years. Look, Y/N, I see talent in you. And even more, I see potential. I can see a good future for you in this team. With more practice and training, who knows what you’ll be able to achieve? I have faith in you.”

“Wow,” you smiled, “Thank you.”

“But I can definitely tell you more about it over a cup of tea.”

“W-What?” you blushed.

“A cup of tea. Me and you. What do you think?” he asked, hopeful.

“I… Sure. Yeah, a cup of tea,” you smiled.

“It’s a date.”

[fun-k-board]

Hi, may I request a headcanons of The Brotherhood(Quicksilver, Blob and Toad) whose crush is gn reader? How would they act?

The Brotherhood (X-Men: Evolution) X gender neutral crush

Note(s) : Sorry it took so long, I was struggling to figure out how to write for them (⁠*⁠・⁠～⁠・⁠*⁠) I think I got it right though?

Pietro Maximoff / Quicksilver

'Hey! Over here, nooo, not there, silly! Here!'

Oh he's so annoying (affectionate)

Pietro's main goal is to make you think about him wherever you are, that means bugging you constantly.

Assuming you're in the same school, he's constantly switching out your homework with blank pieces of paper, drawing messages in your books, speeding over to poke you in class knowing you can't do anything about it, etc.

It only gets worse if you're an X-Man.

During missions if you're against each other he's constantly going after you, it's gotten him in trouble with Mystique more times than he can count because he refuses to acknowledge the main purpose of the mission, instead, he only wants to annoy you.

Sometimes it's just pushing you over then zooming away, other times he constantly taunts you while running so fast you can't catch him or tell where he's going next, whatever it is, he makes sure it's enough of a bother that you start to get frustrated.

If you're in the brotherhood he can at least get missions done but you know he's bothering you the entire time, you basically end up doing all the work.

Is he flirty? Absolutely.

Expect his arm around your shoulders or waist while he talks on and on so fast you can't even catch what he's saying, but when he does slow down he's all 'You're the only one for me.' 'I love your shirt, is it new?' 'Your eyes are so beautiful, I could stare at them for hours.'

Lance and Todd are throwing up in the background.

Wanda wants to punch her brother into a separate dimension.

Fred's just chilling.

Think of him like Lance with Kitty but more focused on teasing you rather than being completely smitten, don't get him wrong, he loves you and he'd probably even make you a sandwich if you asked, but he'll be an asshole about it.

'Oh, come on, that's so much effort! Can't you just do it yourself?' but before you can answer he zooms off to do what you asked of him. 'here, I guess.' he huffs, a grin on his face as he hands you the item you requested.

Frederick J. Dukes / The Blob

'Do I have to stay with them..?'

Fred is under the assumption that it's impossible for you to like him back after what happened with Jean, of course he was pushy and unfair with her, but she also rejected him and all of the X-Men despise him. So, he doesn't exactly have many options when it comes to friendship, let alone dating, besides the Brotherhood.

Then comes you.

Whether you're an X-Man, member of the Brotherhood, Morlock, perhaps just a fellow mutant, or a human, student at school, he'll truly never believe that he has a chance.

While before he was fairly obsessive and pushy with his crushes, with you he's silent and very awkward, even if you're nice to him he expects backlash if he ever confesses.

If you're a member of the brotherhood his awkwardness is slightly less explainable and far more noticeable, you're his teammate, you spend almost all day together, yet he can hardly look at you and loudly complains when he's paired with you or left alone with you. It probably makes you feel like he hates you.

He's very embarrassed if you confront him about it.

Awkward, he stumbles over his words and is breathing a little heavy as he does so, trying his best to explain that he doesn't hate you, he's just. Well. You see.

It's a similar situation if you attend his school, human or mutant, he's very sweet to you and tends to avoid messing with you. Fred usually quiets down when you get near, almost shutting down in a way. The others tease him for it all the time.

He'll most likely try to avoid you, maybe Lance, Pietro and Todd will push him to interact with you just to 'stop him from bugging them about it', they totally just want to help him out, and it ends with him always running away in embarrassment or assuming, if you're quiet or not that reactive, that you hate him.

If you're paired in a school project, Fred will absolutely just skip school, he doesn't care, he skips class regularly anyway, no Pietro, it's not to avoid you, he's just too cool for class.

If you're an X-Man, it's very different.

Fred is under the assumption you both share a mutual hate for each other, you're enemies after all! The tightness in his chest that he's feeling is totally just violent urges, that's it, that's all, it's not the want to hold your hand, hold you, tell jokes and make you laugh, no, no, that's not it at all!

He tends to target you to try and avoid his feelings quicker, he hates hurting you, but throwing you away from him, physically, makes sure he won't get distracted by you.

Fred ends up crying in his room when he goes home because he's afraid he hurt you.

Heck, even the other members of the brotherhood just want him to get with you already. Lance is especially eager because he won't be the only one being made fun of for dating an X-Man.

Eventually it does spill somehow and I'd imagine he would try to run away from you, maybe you catch up or explain to him later on, whichever one, he'll get very happy when you confirm you share feelings for him. He practically fixates on you so hard that you're the only thing he talks about.

Todd Tolansky / Toad

'Hey, how it's goin', beautiful?'

He proceeds to fall down on his face.

Todd is a bit of a creep, constantly following you around and showing off his nonexistent muscles, telling the most unfunny jokes and pulling pranks on people in an attempt to impress you.

He doesn't smell nice, he's been told this his entire life, that he's slimy, disgusting, every insulting name under the sun. As such, he decides to at least try and take a shower more often for you, to make you less likely to avoid him, of course!

Todd has a big grin on his face every time he talks to you, bouncing off his feet like he's just won the lottery. He's also very, very flirty, just not that good at flirting.

His pick up lines are very 'the immediate Google search results for pick up lines.' type of cheesy, very stereotypical and eye rolling.

If you're an X-Man, member of the Brotherhood, human, mutant, etc, it doesn't matter much to him, he treats you the exact same. The only real difference is how much time he spends around you.

In the brotherhood he does try to avoid flirting in front of the guys to avoid embarrassment or teasing, but surprisingly he does ask for a lot of advice regularly. It usually never goes well, Lance and Pietro tend to just give very wrong or confusing tips and Fred doesn't really have any to give in the first place.

If you're an X-Man he tries to impress you by fighting your teammates, usually he loses, but sometimes he does win! He'll pose and ask if he's just the coolest guy or what. Todd doesn't like fighting you but he will, because unfortunately Mystique is absolutely terrifying and he doesn't want to face her wrath.

In school he likes to ask for your help, constantly bugging you about how he just desperately needs your assistance to study for this test coming up, which to be fair he does. But, if you agree to help him, he doesn't actually try. He just flirts with you the entire time.

His crush is obvious, incredibly so, even the most clueless of individuals would know he loves you because he says it directly every single day. He doesn't exactly need to 'confess' per say, all you really need to do is accept his flirting or flirt back, maybe ask him out yourself.

[chudleycanonficfest]

Safe In Your Arms

Day 4, Story #2 is by @whenihaveyouromione

Title: Safe In Your Arms

Author/Artist: firethecanonsfanfiction (also rafa-rafaelx and whenihaveyouromione

Pairing: Ron/Hermione

Prompt: cuddling

Summary: Ron and Hermione find each other immediately after the war.

Rating: T?

Trigger Warning(s) (if any): mentions of canon death, war and injury

Thank you to adenei for betaing!

The setting sun over Hogwarts was not its usual beautiful, picturesque image that Hermione had once enjoyed watching. Tonight, it was dark. There was no joy from watching it slowly set. The sky wasn’t an orange, or a purple, or even a dark blue. It was just black. Bleak and black, like how she felt.  

  She remembered sitting in this very room and peering out at the rolling hills and mountains and the still lake as the sky drifted between oranges and purples, before  it eventually settled into a deep, starry blue. 

  Many nights she’d stayed awake to complete homework, or study, or go over notes to make sure she’d understood what they’d learnt that day. 

  Given what had just happened, it almost seemed laughable. What she’d give to go back to the simpler times where her biggest concern had been whether adding an extra sentence to an essay would boost her mark up to one hundred and ten percent. 

  She was tired. No, that was an understatement; she was exhausted. Drained of energy, surviving on the smallest amount of sleep, yet her brain ticked overtime as she relived every moment of the past twenty-four hours. This time yesterday they were sneaking into Hogwarts, readying to commence for the last battle. This time yesterday, she had no idea whether she’d even live to see the sunset tonight. 

  Many hadn’t, but she had. She might not feel like it right now, but she was living, she was breathing… she was alive. 

  And so was Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna… they were all safe and well.

  She’d come up to Gryffindor Tower without the notice of the others. They were too busy grieving for their fallen brother. She wouldn’t have been surprised if she didn’t see Ron or Harry until the morning, or perhaps the next morning. 

  After it had happened — after Voldemort had died — Harry had just about collapsed. He didn’t speak, he didn’t move. He just sunk against the wall and stared, speaking to no one.

  Many times in the hours that followed, Hermione considered going to him. Did he need comfort? Did he need his friends? But she thought Ron was right. He said he thought Harry just needed time. So, time would be what she’d give him. 

  She’d spent some of her time helping to fix superficial wounds on students and others, but when she could do no more, she joined the Weasleys. The family huddled together, all with tears rolling down her cheeks. Even Ron, who she’d rarely seen cry before; even he seemed unable to control his emotions.

  For a while, she sat with him, holding his hands to offer comfort. But he needed to be with his family, not her. So, she’d come up to the only other place that brought her comfort.

  And there she’d stayed, watching as the sun sank lower into the sky until it disappeared all together. Soon, the first full day without Voldemort would be upon them. What were they going to do?

  She’d just contemplated the idea of heading up the staircase to return to the bed she’d not slept in for over a year, when the sound of someone climbing through the portrait hole had her turning. 

  She knew who it was the minute she saw the tuft of red hair peek through the hole, and she couldn’t help but smile a little. It was small, but it was a smile. 

  “Hey.” 

  Ron looked utterly defeated. It was the first time she’d looked at him properly. His tears had dried up, but his face was covered in scratches he’d refused to let her heal. Dirt smeared every inch of skin, and his clothes were torn. 

  A real warrior, she couldn’t help but think. He’d been amazing.

  “Hey.” The word came out choked and she realised she hadn’t spoken in hours. 

  “I wondered where you got to.” Ron seemed to hesitate for a moment before taking the five steps he needed to reach her. 

  “I just needed some time to myself,” she answered. “To think.”

  It seemed to be enough for Ron, for he nodded. 

  Hermione gazed up at him and their eyes locked for longer than what she’d usually be comfortable with. He’d always looked at her in a way that no one else had; as if he truly understood what she was thinking and feeling. He didn’t always have the ability to express that understanding in a dignified way, which had frustrated her for years, but she knew that he got her. Better than most, anyway. 

  And maybe she understood him, too, because she knew what was going through his mind as they looked at each other. In the midst of all that had happened, with everything that had unfolded over the past twenty-four hours, she’d kissed him.

  It had been a spur of the moment decision, something that she really hadn’t put much thought into, but something she didn’t regret. She’d wanted to do it for longer than she cared to admit to herself, and it had felt like the right time. If one of them were to die that night, at least they’d die knowing how the other felt. 

  Finally. 

  Staring at him with such intensity made her want to kiss him again. But she refrained, knowing that both of them smelt of blood and death. Nor did either of them probably have the energy to so much as bring their faces close enough to each other to actually do it. 

  It was Ron who broke the gaze, turning to the window she’d been looking out before he’d found her. 

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

  “No.” It was the honest answer, but one he’d understand. 

  “Neither.”

  Hermione offered her hand to him, and he took it. She smiled, and he returned it, though it was pained. “I’m so sorry about Fred,” she whispered. “I can’t believe —”

  “Yeah… yeah.” He squeezed her hand, and then he tugged on it lightly. He indicated the armchairs by the fireplace that she, Ron and Harry had spent much of their time sitting in. She followed him willingly, both of them somehow managing to squeeze onto one.

  She was rudely aware of how poorly he smelled, and then felt shameful over the fact that she must have been the same. 

  But he didn’t seem to mind, for he placed an arm across her shoulders, drawing her to him. Her head fell against his shoulder and there they stayed. Hermione didn’t know for how long, but she was woken to sunlight and the feel of calloused fingers running through her hair. And she was very, very warm. 

  Blinking, she lifted her head slowly. It was still just the two of them. Had anyone else come in? Were they in the dormitories? Or had she and Ron been alone the whole time, asleep and comforted by each other?

  It then occurred to her how easily she’d fallen asleep in his arms. She’d laid her head against his shoulder and she’d been out… just like that. How safe she felt. How… loved.

  She blushed at the thought, which seemed silly given all that had happened between them. 

  “Did you sleep?” she asked quietly, looking at him. 

  He nodded. “Yeah. A little.” He was looking at her in that way again. Like he wanted to say something, but didn’t know how. Was now even the right time to talk about… them? It seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. They had plenty of time to talk about them. 

  But all she could think about was how easy it had been to fall asleep beside him, and how she didn’t want to ever lose that feeling. 

  She reached a hand to his cheek, running her fingers gently down it, feeling every bump, every scratch, every bit of dried blood. And her heart swelled with love for him. She loved him so very much, and wasn’t now more important than ever to be with those that you loved… and who loved you?

  Ron seemed to be thinking the same, for he lowered his face towards hers. She allowed his dry and chapped lips to brush against hers for a few moments before she kissed him back. His grip on her tightened, his free hand running up the side of her face, entangling into her hair. 

  There wasn’t as much desperation this time. No fear that they might die, no thrill of the first kiss. 

  It was better. 

  When they broke away, slightly breathless, Hermione couldn’t help it. She laughed, and so did he. It would take a long time to heal from this, but at least she had one small ounce of happiness to take with her. One that filled a big piece of her heart. 

  She settled back against his shoulder and he returned to stroking her hair. Soon, this peacefulness would disappear. Soon, they’d have to return to a reality that was far darker than the one that was on this armchair. But for now, this numbed all the pain. And it was what they both needed.

  As she closed her eyes once again, feeling herself drifting into another peaceful sleep entangled in his arms, she heard him murmur against her. 

  “Don’t let this be temporary, Hermione. I need you. I love you.”

  She was too tired to respond, but when she woke again, she’d tell him that she needed him, too. 

  And she’d tell him that she loved him.

[darthwheezely]

high noon - g.w.

summary: your favorite ranger of the West doesn’t take too kindly to people that try to take what’s his

pairing: cowboy!george x saloon dancer!reader

warnings: NSFW/SMUT MINORS DNI: unprotected sex, gun kink, oral sex (male receiving), mentions of possible prostitution, alcohol, gun violence, brief non consensual touching, pet kink (being called a foal and a mare), breeding kink, rough sex, fingering

THIGHS ARE LABELLED AS MILKY WHITE BECAUSE WHITE -ISH FULL BODY MAKEUP WAS V COMMON FOR CANCAN DANCERS

a/n: i actually wrote this back in february for my friend mads @lumosandnoxwriting and i just also wanted to share it here - also she gave me an idea for a part two so - hopefully that’ll be a thing sometime soon!

The saloon was crowded. A bit too crowded.

George didn’t like crowded,the amount of people in the saloon (really men, let’s be honest) always gave him a bit of a case of the jitters, his hand always sliding to his holster just to make sure his gun was still intact. He hated having witnesses in case something (or someone) went wrong.

Right now, his eyes were glued to you up on that stage, his hands shootin’ whiskey as he watched you on stage, your deep crimson dress flicking up as you kicked your legs. This was George’s favorite time, watching you in your tight corset and dress, kicking up and bending over and flashing your skivvies as his rum brown eyes focused on you like a hawk.

He had long thought about the way your chest was all the way pushed up and your thighs milky white and pulsing with vitality, and in fact had many a round with you in that state. Maybe it was the garish rouge on your cheeks or the way your hair bounced as you heaved in breaths, or maybe the way you smiled cheekily at the audience: but by God, you were doing a shit ton more than dancing tonight.

Your usual nights of lovemaking and fucking were upstairs above the stage and the saloon itself, the cheap beds in the inn and the smells of sweat and gunpowder in the air as you spent hours bouncing on him, your garters and corset the only things left on your body as you rode him like a bronco.

Tonight, though, things were a bit different. George had noticed you being sought after and stared at by none other than Sherriff Diggory. The boy had had an eye on you since he discovered you an unmarried woman, unable to keep his pockets and mouth away from the saloon owner, Mr. Carrow. Carrow saw you as the prize winner, and because of that, was incredibly forceful of Cedric’s advances.

George knew this, but tonight?

Enough was enough.

You had been kicking up your skirts and doing your usual routine, flashing an O shape of your mouth for extra spice at your lover, a smirk dripping from his mouth. However, his opponent Diggory decided he’d make a bold move as he watched you dance. With a flick of his tongue, he got on the edge of his seat and waited until you were all the way bent over, slapping your ass, the crowd roaring in hilarity. It was then that George snapped, your face tightly smiling to recover from the pain you’d been caused.

George fingered his holster and took another shot of his whiskey.

-

You made your way back to the front of the saloon with the other dancers, all of them cooing and laughing at Miss Y/N, the girl who got touched by Cedric Fuckin’ Diggory.

How grand.

The men had started to paw at you from the moment you got the gig. You were gorgeous, a light afresh in a dark corner. And the men knew that. You had locked eyes with George, you began to make your way over to him, when Cedric stepped in front of you.

“Miss Y/N, could I have a word?”

“Mr. Diggory, please I need to be on my way-“ you started sheepishly before he grabbed your arm.

“I don’t think you have the right to say no to me do you, girl?” He growled, before you heard the familiar click of a gun.

“I’m sorry, fella, what was that?” You turned to see your lover, your only man you willingly accepted into your bed with his pistol cocked directly at Cedric’s temple. Cedric dropped your arm and held his hands in the air.

“George, p-please it was just a-“

“Now, Ceddy, I think we both know a comment from a harassment and you’re a rich boy, and certainly not a dumb one,” he began to push his head and therefore, his body, towards the stage. All was silent in the saloon, the familiar piano and cleaning of glasses no longer a symphony. You watched your boyfriend, angry and tense, his arms practically bursting out of his button up shirt with the gun to your harassers head and had to bite your lip from groaning at the sight.

“Go on, pardner, dance for me,” George said stepping back behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed a kiss to your neck as he again motioned for Cedric to dance.

“Go on. Dance.” George spat. When Cedric refused to answer, George nodded to himself, smiling harshly, and firing shots all around Cedric’s feet, causing him to jump violently as to avoid getting shot at. The crowd in the saloon hollered with laughter at the man on the stage jumping frantically and screaming at the violent noises, and you felt your core tighten at the way George was holding your waist with one hand and ruining this man with the other. Your knees buckled at the feeling of George’s mouth on your neck before he finally slid the pistol back into his holster, and took your hand, sliding you away from the crowd.

Time to take you for a ride.

-

From the minute the door shut to the inn room, he was on you like a cat, his mouth angrily and roughly moving against yours while his calloused and adorned hands pressed you against the wall. He needed to claim you, his jealousy and anger swelling in his chest the entire night.

“Was my little foal excited to see me?” He murmured in your ear, his hands sliding up the back of your thighs to pick you up, his eyes drawn to the way your breasts heaved and were practically exposed to the entirety of him. He found your mouth again as he lifted you and brought you to the bed, his hands already working at the stays of your dress, pulling the bodice and skirt off completely - leaving you in only garters, skivvies, and your corset.

“Y/N, you liked that didn’t you?” He chuckled running his hands along the smooth skin of your thighs.

“Liked what, Georgie?” You whispered breathily. He looked directly at you and slapped your thighs, your gasp and the reverberated noise echoing in the room.

“Don’t be cute, you liked how I was firing my shooter at Cedric, didn’t you?” His lips curled in a sly grin as he watched your eyes widen in embarrassment.

“N-no, Georgie, of course not,” you whined shaking your head vehemently. He tutted and dragged a finger up your clothed core, watching your eyes flutter close.

“Hmm. I think you’re lying, baby,” he purred, his hands picking up from her legs and to his holster, toying with the gun in his hands.

“I think you liked it.” He grinned wider as you shifted, the embarrassment that your thighs had indeed been soaked to the brim with arousal, clear to George as he dipped his fingers into your dripping cunt, his thumb orbiting on your clit as you arched your back.

“Go on, princess, tell me how much you love my gun,” he pressed his thumb harder onto your clit as you cried out weakly.

“Y-yes, Georgie, love your pistol so much, love when you cock it, please” you weakly tried to pull yourself up but George was always faster. In an instant he pressed the unloaded gun to the center of your chest.

“You trust me, baby?” He cooed.

“Always, Georgie.” You whimpered, nodding. He licked his bottom lip and began dragging the pistol around your breasts to your nipple pushing and flicking the hardened bud lightly.

“George, touch me, please” you gasped, your back screaming from how far you were pushing it up. He just shook his head and chuckled the barrel of the gun drifting until it was dipping under your panties, a high whine eliciting from your throat.

“Y/N, baby, you want these off?”

“Mhm…”

“Then you gotta beg, baby.”

“George, please, I need you to, been wanting and waiting so bad,” he began to toy with your skivvies, slowly pulling them down.

“Who were you dancing for up there, baby? Was it Cedric? Or Carrow? Or Adrian? Or Fred even?”

“No, Georgie, just you, only ever for you - oh” George had dipped the gun into you, your pussy finally clenching around what it needed. His pistol was warm, temperature fresh from being shot at the Diggory bastard not but an hour ago. George was moving it deliciously in your cunt, moving you like a stand up doll, controlling every mechanization of your body with every thrust.

“George, please, let me suck your cock,” you moved to sit up and this time George let you, immediately pulling the gun from your cunt and letting it hang on your bottom lip. His mouth was watering as you immediately began to lick the barrel, tasting yourself on the pistol, before he sank it into your mouth. He’d swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful, his woman with his gun in her mouth, sucking like it was a lollipop. Her hands crept to his pants and he didn’t say no, he wanted it, needed it even, to have his cock freed. Your hands went to his bare cock and used your thumb to draw tight but soft circles on his tip. He threw his head back and moaned and pulled the pistol from your mouth.

“Got another barrel I need you to suck, baby cakes,” he winked and your cunt clenched around nothing at his lewd joke. You began kitten licking his cockhead, watching as a line of saliva pulled from your mouth before sliding your lips further down where he needed you. Your hands came to wrap around the flesh you couldn’t reach, and the sounds of his sinful groans and gasps only spurred you on. You bobbed your mouth around him, taking in the taste of him, he tasted like he always did, of Amber whiskey and cheap spice - but to you he tasted like the finest wine you’d ever drank. Sucking on George was a luxury experience, and you relished it everytime.

He started fucking into your mouth and throat, his massive length pushing further into you where you needed it, but gagging around him nonetheless. He loudly gasped and fisted your hair, pulling you harder.

“Fuck, Y/N, just...just taking me so good, love how sinful you look, sucking on me like that.” You hummed around him, the vibrations thrumming around his body. He quickly took one of his hands from your hair and picked up his pistol, bringing it to your clit.

“Babygirl gets a treat, ain’t that right?” He chuckled breathily, his pistol pressing harder on your clit as he was pushed on by your whines. The pistol was toying with you like the man in your mouth, but you could feel his release coming, his telltale signs and sounds erupting all in front of you.

“That’s it, my precious mare, good job,Y/N, good fucking job,” he praised harshly, his hips sloppily jolting in your mouth.

“Oh God, oh fuck, Y/N” he groaned, and with a cry of your name he had barely enough time to pull back and shoot his ammunition down your throat, both his guns pressing where you needed them, bringing you to your release as well. He watched you swallow all of him, his cock already more than half hard at the sight alone, plus his pistol was soaked with you, bringing it to his mouth and sucking it clean, his eyes on you the whole time.

When he was done he began to undress, his shirt coming off and bearing the brand of when he was imprisoned for dueling in the streets, and the number 5 in Roman numerals - a sign that he was the fifth son of the Weasley clan, a harbored and hallowed family of the West. There was never a time where you didn’t let your eyes drape over every scar and bruise from his daily fights and duels and scuffles. He was a fallen angel, and you his demonic love.

You feverishly helped him strip, giggling at the way your hands pried and peeled clothes from his body, and when he was completely naked, he pinned you back on the bed. His mouth began to suck unholy bruises and marks on the tops of your breasts (“so everyone knows who’s dancing for me”) and his finger trailed a delicate line down the center of your torso to your clit, you whining at the overstimulation.

“Georgie, Georgie need your-“

“I know, baby, I know,” he said softly, prsssing a kiss to your mouth, nibbling on your bottom lip. He took his cock in one hand stroking it three times before lining himself up at your entrance, enjoying how you squirmed your hips to try and get him inside you as much as you could.

“So needy, aren’t you?” He quipped, pushing just his tip in her and gasping at the connection.

“Seems you’re just as needy as me, Georgie” you smirked and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in halfway from the pressure. You both moaned lewdly, and it took everything in to pull him out and slam back in, finally fucking into you the way you needed it.

The pace he set was violent, a symphony of skin slapping, you could feel every throb and pulse of his cock inside you as he fucked relentlessly into you. He was hitting every nerve, every sensory bud in your body, and with every thrust and snap of his hips you gasped for breath. He hiked a leg up on one of his shoulders.

“You want me to fill you up, baby? Give you a big fucking litter of my colts?” He growled into your earlobe.

“P-please, George, need so many colts” you whined, him switching arms as he brought up the other leg to his shoulder.

“Yeah? Gonna fill up a whole fucking ranch just with my litter? My babies prancing around in your tummy?” He grunted, circling your clit again. He was close but he would do everything in his power to send you over the edge. He braced your thighs and slapped them hard.

“C’mon, my pretty mare, buck those hips. Gonna prove to me you can handle all my little foals.” You cried out loudly as your stallion sent the last of your strength out the window, your legs and cunt squeezing in a crescendo around him. It was electric, your body seeming to pull him in as fast and hard as you could go. Your nails dug into his back, leaving blood dripping with the brunt force of you.

He continued to fuck into you, your cunt growing sensitive with every push. You knew he was inching you towards your third release, and his his second, his hips and thrust growing sloppier by the second.

“Gonna fucking breed you, need to, baby, please-“

“Yes, George, yes, give me all your colts, love” you cooed. He cried out a loud and rough bark of your name and painted your walls with his release. At the feeling of being filled and being filled alone, you came with him, your juices mixing as you both clutched each other’s bodies. You drank in his warmth of his body, kissing the side of his neck as he slowly rolled his hips forward to accommodate your highs. He went to pull out but you stopped him.

“Not yet,” you whispered. He slid his hands to your cheeks and stroked the apples and kissed you gently.

“Guess we’re gonna have to ride out to the preacher than huh? Can’t have my girl dancing in a cancan house forever, not pregnant.” He whistled softly, his jaunty smirk settling into a soft smile.

“Honey, I-“ you stopped him by taking his hand and pressing it to your tummy.

“Get ready for a ranch, Weasley. You’re gonna need it.”

He chuckled and leaned in.

idk whoever might enjoy this rn: @wandsandwheezes @amxrtentias @lupinsclassroom @harrysweasleys @pandaxnienke @whizboingies @wzrd-wheezes @loony-loopy-lupinn

[whack-ed]

“Just Friends” (Fred Weasley x Reader)

Synopsis: A halloween party was what it took for you to finally do what you wanted to do with Fred.

Warnings: make out; underage drinking and extremely flirtation.

Reader: Female

World Count: 2.5k

A/N: I'm sorry for the delay, I had some personal problems to solve, but here I am! this is a oneshot for the special A very Harry Potter Halloween by @masterofthedarkness and @eleven-times-lively​. This one is for the 30th with the prompt Halloween Party! Hope you like it :)

tag list: @nebulablakemurphy​ @jamilelucato​ @inglourious-imagines​ @acciotwinz​ @clarissaxpearce​ 

if you want to be tagged, send me a ask!

Finally October, the favorite time of year for Y/n. For various reasons, fantasies, sweets, the weather, absolutely everything Y/n loved most was present in October. But probably the thing the girl liked the better was the Weasley twins' Halloween party. And this year promised, it was the twins' last year at school and they promised the best Halloween party this school has ever seen.

Usually Y/n knew everything the twins were preparing, since they were a quartet. The twins, Y/n and Lee. These four names together gave chills to any teacher. But not this time. This year it was just Fred and George who were looking for trouble. The twins didn't let Y/n and Lee participate at all, the surprise was for everyone. And of course, Y/n's anxiety didn't leave the twins alone for a minute.

"Please Fred, tell me at least the color of the glasses!" Y/n insisted on Fred saying at least a little detail about the party. The secret was complete.

"I already said that I don't speak a word to you, Y/n" The redhead replied laughing.

They were in a history of magic class, automatically nobody was paying attention. The twins sat in the last row, Y/n and Lee just ahead.

"What are the drinks going to be, that's no big deal!" Lee asked as curious as Y/n.

"Not a word, Lee," George replied with a sly smile on his face, the same as the one on his brother's face.

"I hate you both" Y/n said irritably and turned forward.

Fred who was behind Y/n leaned forward and rested his head on the girl's shoulder, whispering her ear. Fred's proximity to Y/n's ear made the girl get goosebumps and close her eyes while the redhead spoke. "You don't miss out on waiting, baby"

George and Lee exchanged a look that they knew well what it meant. Y/n and Fred have always had this relationship ... doubtful. Nothing but indirect flirtations happened between the two, there was never anything else. George and Lee always questioned the two of them if something happened in the backstage that they didn't see, and of course, the answer was always the same "We are just friends". Only friends my ass, George thought. The boy knew his brother well to know when he was lying.

Fred then returned to his seat and Y/n kept her eyes closed digesting the sensation she had just had, wishing it had lasted a little longer. She opened her eyes slowly and blinked several times, returning to reality.

"My God, the sexual tension between you two can be cut with a knife," Lee said making the three friends laugh.

"We are just friends, you know that" Y/n replied and noticed that this time Fred's laugh was not genuine. Apparently George noticed it too. But of course it could only be Y/n's head.

The class passed slowly as usual, but amid laughter, scolding from the teacher and notes on the parchment, time finally passed. It was already lunchtime and Y/n couldn't be more thankful for that. Her thoughts could go from Fred to the mountain of mashed potatoes that awaited her.

Weeks passed and the twins had not yet given any information about the party. It wasn't just Lee and Y/n who were looking forward now, all seventh graders as well. The fact that Umbridge was taking care of the school, making so many rules, only made things more exciting. The twins couldn't be loud ... At least not in theory.

Now everyone was in the common room, some doing their homework and others just hanging out. Everything was calm until the most beloved twins in the world came in doing what they do best, drawing attention.

“My dear student friends" George was saying.

"Me and my dear brother, we finally have the invitations ready!" Fred completed.

"And what does that mean, bro?" George asked doing a theatrical pose.

"That not even the pink toad was able to stop the Weasley Twins!" Fred completed again by opening his arms also in a theatrical way.

“But it’s worth remembering that the party is only for people from the fifth year upwards” Some sad moans were heard from some students from the fourth year downwards “So my little grasshoppers, you who didn’t taste one of our Halloween parties, will have to look for that taste in our store! ” George announced and the sad moans automatically turned into happy faces.

“That's right! We believe that very soon, our store will have a physical point and will be 100% prepared to serve all of you little pests! ” Fred said laughing and started handing out the invitations.

The invitations were not common, as nothing the twins did was common, no one was surprised, just curious. They were orange sweets in the shape of mini pumpkins.

“But is this sweet? How should we know where and when to go with a sweet? ” Ron asked as soon as George handed him one of the pumpkins.

"I suggest taking a bite, little brother," Fred said mockingly, handing one to Y/n. "I made this one especially for you" And winked at the girl. Hers was Y/F/C , your favorite color. As soon as the girl saw the candy she smiled at Fred and got a little flushed.

As soon as Ron took a bite of the fearful candy, sparkles that resembled fireworks with a date, time and place emerged from the pumpkin.

"We just suggest that you don't eat it whole, eating the other piece makes you invisible for 15 minutes, so you can go to the party without drawing unnecessary attention" Fred said with a smile on his face, proud of what he had done.

It was amazing how these boys were the life of the party wherever they went. Y/n smile so proudly for the boys. After the euphoria of delivery of the pumpkins, the boys sat on the sofa with only a few students in the room, most of had already gone to sleep. Y/n was in an armchair by the fireplace, reading a book. Fred settled on the floor in front of the girl and rested his head on her knees. George sat next to Lee on the couch.

"Okay, now that we have everything set up, what will your fantasy be?" George asked to his friends.

"I was thinking of going as a werewolf" Lee replied playing with the hem of his shirt.

"What a cliché, Lee" Hermione who was finishing up her homework said from across the room. She, Harry and Ron were actually finishing up their homework. But everyone knew that the boys were just waiting for Hermione to finish copying hers.

"You're right, he should go as you Hermione, who knows, maybe someone will put limits on this party?" Ron replied laughing, immediately regretting because of Hermione's furious reaction.

"And what are you going to be dressed up for?" Y/n asked lowering the book, she had stopped paying attention long ago.

"Us? Secret too" Fred replied to the girl.

"You guys are getting unbearable with this, you know?" Y/n said looking at the twins.

"Just noticed now?" Lee said sarcastically.

Y/n snorted angrily and pulled her legs up so that Fred could no longer lean on them, causing the boy to turn his head to her laughing.

"You look so beautiful when you're mad" He said and stood up and give her a kiss on the cheek. "I think it's past time for us to go to sleep, we need energy to organize what comes tomorrow, Georgie"

George got up too and agreed with his brother, so the two went up to the dorm wishing everybody a good night.

"I'll see if I can get anything out of them before bed, good night, Y/n" Lee said and went after the twins.

Harry was already drooling at the table, Ron was almost, only Hermione was still focused. Y/n got up and headed for the girls' dorm.

"Good night, Mione" Y/n said.

"When are you two going to assume you have more than a friendship, Y/n?" Hermione asked before she went up. The girl laughed and shook her head.

"We are just friends"

The following days passed with Y/n listening to discussions to see what would be the fantasy of her friends. Lee really was a werewolf, Hermione was from an important witch that nobody really understood who was just that had something to do with defending giants, Ron was going as a auror, Harry as a  quidditch player, and of course the fantasy of Fred and George it was still a secret.

At breakfast on the day of the party, everyone was euphoric. The whispers came not only from the Gryffindor table, but from all of them, even some Slytherins were excited.

And because she kept her head elsewhere, Y/n ended up forgetting to think about her fantasy. Then, taking advantage of having a visit to Hogsmade that day, she asked Hermione for help in choosing a costume. The girls went to each clothing store until they found the perfect costume. That was it, they thought. It perfectly matched Y/n's personality.

The hours passed and now it was only an hour before the twins' Halloween party. The girls in Y/n's room were euphoric. They had pirates, healers, vampires, it looked like a children's book in one room. Y/n was finishing her makeup and would already be ready to leave. The outfit she had chosen was nothing less than court jester. Not a dull court jester, according to Hermione, and here I quote her words, she was a “sexually desirable jester”. A colorful short dress, socks to the thighs one of each color, hair tied with colored ribbons and a cute clown makeup. It was perfect.

"You look perfect, Y/n!" Angelina said to the girl with colored ribbons in her hair.

"You too, Angie, wonderful by the way!" Y/n said to her friend that was dressed as a fairy.

The two then descended together, meeting several people in costume in the main hall. And in the sea of mummies and mermaids, Y/n spotted the werewolf she was looking for.

“Lee! Lee! ” The girl called and Lee turned to see her.

"Y/n ... Bloody hell woman, now I understand what Fred talks about so much" Lee replied looking Y/n up and down.

"What does Fred say?" Y/n asked frankly eyebrows.

"He keeps saying you have phenomenal thighs," Lee replied, staring at her legs.

“Hey! Lee! Eyes up here! ” Y/n responded making the boy automatically look embarrassed, but then laughing.

"Let's go then?" Lee asked Y/n and she nodded.

The two then ate all the pumpkin and automatically the picture of the fat woman opening, looked like a passage of ghosts, no one was seen, all you could hear were footsteps and some muffled laughter through the corridors.

Finally, after walking a lot trying to make a minimum of noise, they reached the precise room. The door opened and the legion of students entered the place. When Fred and George said it was going to be the best Halloween party this school has ever seen, they weren't kidding.

There were already some students in the room, but the decor was clear. They had colorful and noiseless fireworks shining on the ceiling tirelessly, they seemed bewitched to last all night. The smoke on the ground made it look like a swamp, you could barely see people's feet. The tables set with various sweets with different shapes and a large bowl with punch, certainly alcoholic. The walls decorated with purple and orange ribbons all over the place. Of course, cobwebs, skeletons and pumpkins were placed in every corner. The music was loud, but it was not heard outside, they had also bewitched it. The only strange thing was that Fred and George were not yet in place.

More and more people were arriving and none of the twins. Y/n was having fun with Lee and other friends, but missed the redheaded duo. While some students were kissing in a corner and others were stuffing themselves with food, Y/n was dancing with a glass in her hand, like there's no tomorrow. She moved her hips from side to side without caring if she was drawing too much attention. Tonight was really for that.

The only part of the place that no one had understood was the stairway in the corner of the room that led to a balcony and a small door that nobody could open. After a while, Y/n ignored the stairs, and suddenly after the girl's third glass, the door made sense. It had opened up and the music had turned down the volume. There they were, Fred and George came out of the door in the costume of Kings. Y/n laughed with them and stopped dancing, looking at the boys.

"Feel free, my subjects, the party is yours today!" Fred said raising his hands.

"And remember, if you are not going to party like us, you can leave" George added.

"And let the party really start!" Fred shouted and everyone shouted in agreement.

The twins then descended the stairs, as if they were true kings. Strangely, their fantasy matched the boys perfectly. Y/n after seeing that the boys were already enjoying the party normally, she took another sip of her drink and started dancing again.

The music playing was sensual, and it is clear that the girl, with the courage that the drink gave her, took advantage of the moment. She had wanted to do this for years, and the opportunity never came, but now? Last year, she was going to do what she wanted without fear.

Y/n started to dance to the music, as sensual as the beat of each note. She knew they had several pairs of eyes on her, but only one interested her. Then the girl turned to where Fred was and she couldn't be more pleased to see that he was looking at her like a dog is looking at a piece of meat, with pure desire. She then danced looking directly at him.

Fred couldn't hold on any longer, he dodged the crowd and came very close to Y/n, grabbed her waist tightly and without thinking, he kissed the girl. It was as if everyone in the room had disappeared. They were just there, Y/n and Fred. The girl returned the kiss at the same time her lips met, placing her hands on the boy's neck.

The two separated only because they were forced to breathe. Keeping foreheads glued together. Smiling broadly. And you can hear George and Lee in the background shouting "Finally!" "Just friends, my ass!" And things like that. But Fred and Y/n couldn't care less.

"So.. hm, I think we're not just friends after all, huh?" Fred says laughing still being very close to you.

"I don't think we ever were just friends"

[plant-flwrs]

house unity // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: this story has taken me so long and i feel like i’ve poured my blood, sweat, and tears into it. i love it a lot and you can really tell what i was watching/ doing in each sections lol. for example, the dramatic ending is courtesy of the heart wrenching sylvia plath poems i was reading earlier today lol :’) also i made the reader a ravenclaw because im a ravenclaw and i felt like it hehe. n e way! hope you all like it and pls leave feedback if you have any! like, rb, follow <3

summary: Fred Weasley and you have a bit of a love hate relationship, however, on Fred’s behalf its more love than hate. Dating a Ravenclaw would be a great stride in house unity, wouldn’t it?

(disclaimer: when i describe the differences in the twins i mean the actors! especially since she who shall not be named did not give us much about their physical differences >:/ i found the info from fandom.com so it may be wrong, but i went with it. also, i made up a few things for this story, like the annual Christmas ball)

(8.7k)

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You wished you could enjoy some things as easily as your peers could.

You didn’t like most sweets from Honeydukes, you didn’t care for Quidditch, but you especially hated the Weasley twin’s pranks.

In your first year, just weeks after arriving at Hogwarts, you had met Fred and George. You had been unable to answer the riddle to enter the Ravenclaw common room, so you decided to take a walk around the grounds.

You just turned the corner to the courtyard, when a hard snowball hit you square in the face. The sheer force of it made you stumble backyards, and you barely had time to wipe the snow off your face before another one hit you hard in the back. You were unable to keep your balance and tumbled forwards. Your hands braced your fall and scraped against the rough stone harshly. Your palms stained the snow red as they began to bleed. You barely had time to nurse them before another snowball, this time the size of a Quaffle, plummeted onto your head. It pushed you face-first into the snow, and you recovered quicker, not wanting to stay there for any longer. You whirled around, looking for anyone who could have seen who did that. You saw two boys with flaming red hair running away, and you followed them.

You caught them just before they entered the castle, all three of you winded. They were twins.

“Did you see who did that? Was it you?” you had pried, and both of them looked giddy.

“What’d you mean?” the shorter of the two answered immaturely.

The other looked down at your hands and robes, seeing blood still flowing from your palms, and your stained tights. He glanced at his brother, who was still laughing about it all and shoved his shoulder.

“You git,” he mumbled to his brother, “she’s bleeding,” he took your hands in his and tried to wipe some of the blood off, only for it to stain the sleeves of his sweater.

“Oh, gross!” the shorter one exclaimed, backing away from the two of you.

“How did you two do that?” you asked, pulling your hands away from the kinder one.

“Bewitched ‘em,” the short one said arrogantly before his brother could stop him.

“You bewitched them to attack me?” you felt tears stinging your eyes and hoped the taller one wouldn’t notice that too.

“Well, we didn’t mean ‘em to go after you,” the kind one said quickly, trying to rub the blood out of his shirt.

“Yeah, but it was still a laugh,” the shorter one said, nudging his brother’s shoulder good spiritedly.

“Shut up, Fred,” he mumbled, obviously annoyed, “we’re sorry about your hands, we didn’t mean for it to happen, honest.”

Fred watched you silently as you swallowed hard, only able to nod at them, accepting the boys’ apology. You turned on your heal and went to the infirmary, hoping Madam Pomfrey could mend your cuts. You had wiped your tears all the way there.

In your third year, you had been told there would be a Christmas ball. You had been stuffed in a large room with the Gryffindors, and you bumped shoulder to shoulder with a boy who had long dreadlocks.

Professor McGonagall and Flitwick stood in the center of the room, a large record player was next to them.

“As some of you may know, there is an annual Christmas Ball here at Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall explained, looking sharply at the Gryffindors.

“Professor McGonagall and I have a tradition,” Flitwick said, casting a glance at the Ravenclaws, “of holding a class on how to dance properly at these events.”

“Think of it as charity,” McGonagall said devilishly, “we wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourselves.”

Flitwick stifled a laugh and moved his wand to turn on the music. Loud, old-sounding music blared from the ancient device and you looked confused at your teachers.

“Everyone, pair up!”

An awkward haze fell over the room of third years. None of you knew how to talk to the opposite sex, let alone dance with them. You turned to look around you, accidentally making eye contact with the Gryffindor boy with dreads. His eyes widened when they saw yours, and his friends behind you noticed. You looked at his friends, only to see Fred and George Weasley. You rolled your eyes at the two, but their friend was jolted forwards.

He bumped into you, Fred having pushed him lightly on the back.

“Go on Lee!” Fred shouted, laughing loudly.

People were moving to the center of the room in pairs, and Lee looked at you nervously. He held his hand out to you.

“Want to dance?” He asked you shyly.

You took his hand with worry, nervous about the wicked grin the twins had. That grin always worried you.

You let Lee lead you out to the floor, falling in line with everyone else. You both watched McGonagall looking around for a partner for her to demonstrate with.

Fred’s obnoxious laugh cut through the room, and her eyes landed on him.

“Perfect! Mr. Weasley, come be my partner.”

He groaned and moved forwards, his brother laughing loudly. Beside you, Lee had a wide smile.

“Place your hand on my waist,” she said flatly.

“Your what?” he repeated, his eyes going wide.

“My waist, don’t be daft,” she replied, moving his hand to the right place.

It seemed everyone’s cheeks had gone red due to stifled laughter. Lee bumped into you as he doubled over, not trying to contain himself.

In your fifth year, you were made a prefect.

You were hesitant to accept the position, feeling a bit tied down by the prat status that came with the responsibility.

Wearing your slightly dusted badge, you had never polished it like you saw Percy doing every second of his life, you led a group of Ravenclaw first years up the stairs.

“Right this way,” you shouted over their heads, making sure no one got lost.

“Who had the sense to make you a prefect?” Fred taunted, coming up from behind you and flicking your ear.

You moved to swat his hand away, but he had already jumped back.

“Shove off, Fred,” you shot him a glare and turned back to the children, “the stairs can get a bit confusing, so watch your step!”

Fred watched you admirably, noticing the way your voice changed to a sweet sound when you spoke to anyone but him.

“Yeah, watch the stairs!” Fred shouted, pulling you by your elbow onto a new staircase.

The steps moved away from the first years, taking you and Fred to the opposite corridor you wanted to go down. You looked down and realized how close you were to the edge. Without thinking, you grabbed onto Fred’s robes, pulling him closer to you. He tilted forward and nearly lost his balance, which would have sent you both down. He flung his hand out and firmly held onto the railing, suspending the both of you over the edge for a moment before he pulled you back up. You were close to his chest, still holding onto him until the stairs stopped moving. You hadn’t meant to close your eyes, but when you finally opened them you saw your group of first-years looking at you from the other staircase, seeming absolutely terrified.

You leaped from Fred’s embrace, sending him stumbling back a bit. You marched up the stairs to loop back to the first years and heard Fred calling after you.

“Going so soon?” you heard his laugh echoing off the walls of the room.

For most of your life, your interactions with Fred Weasley were that simple. Maybe once a year you two would spit some insults at the other, and be on your way, not to speak to each other until next year.

However, when you walked into your Transfiguration class, late by a few minutes due to your prefect duties, you felt a punch in the gut when you saw flaming red hair.

The punch in the gut was increased tenfold when you saw that the only empty seat was next to the flaming red hair.

Breathing deeply and sending a fake smile his way, you sat uncomfortably next to Fred.

It would have been difficult to tell them apart, but your observant eye had always been able to. Besides a few odd growth spurts they were prone to, George usually came out the taller of the two. Fred also had a small scar on his left eyebrow.

“Oh hello, prefect,” Fred said lazily, drawing back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head.

The bottom of his shirt rose a little and you willed your eyes to not look at the toned bit of stomach that peeked through.

“Weasley,” you said, pulling your textbook out of your bag.

“Looking forward to your new prat duties?”

“More than I’m looking forward to sitting with you,” you pushed your hair behind your ear and out of your eyes, Fred stared at the side of your face.

“Always so charming,” he finally drawled, leaning forwards and tugging his sweater down.

Something about Fred always made you want the last word, the last laugh.

“Only for you, Fred.”

In professor McGonagall’s opinion, Fred Weasley had the littlest appreciation for time of all the students she had taught.

He wasted his time in the common room, in the Great Hall, and in the hallways.

Even during her Transfiguration class.

He was happy to spend his time with what he thought was shamelessly flirting with you, and McGonagall was happy to embarrass him while he did it.

“Mister Weasley?”

Fred turned to look at McGonagall’s severe face. Before he could say any excuse, insisting that you were talking too, she waved her wand at his desk. His book flew open to the right page, and a force that was not his own was pushing his head into the book. His hair fell in front of his face, and you could tell he was fighting against the spell McGonagall was using.

Fred seemed to be tamed by McGonagall after that and didn’t bother you for the rest of the class. On the way out, he held the door open for you. He called out to you in the hallway.

“Good luck with that weird rash, Y/n!” you felt your cheeks burn furiously as laughs sounded off in the hallway. You turned to see Fred watching you walk away, and lifted both of your middle fingers in the air to him.

“So classy!” he called back.

“Shove! OFF!” you yelled, shouting over the now deafening laughter in the hallway.

You were already dreading the upcoming months.

You were right to, for class with Fred did not get any easier.

You traded your thin tights for thicker ones and your light dress shirt for a heavy sweater. Your blue scarf was wrapped tightly around your neck, and you didn’t bother to pin your prefect badge on it these days.

“Miss, y/l/n, you must remember your badge,” McGonagall said as you came into class.

You looked down at your scarf, patting your robes until you felt the metal. Lifting up your scarf and showing the professor the badge underneath it, you gave her a reassuring smile.

She nodded approvingly and waved her hand, you moved to your seat.

Before you could put your things down, Fred was looking at you. You could hear the gears turning in his head, thinking of something presumably rude to say to you.

“Weasley,” you said first, hoping this would inspire him to stop looking at you.

He blinked at you, before smiling and turning back to his textbook.

“Today, we’re going to be learning a vanishing spell,” McGonagall started.

You had already turned to the page before she told it to you, you had read through the entire textbook over the summer.

You heard Fred scoff next to you, but ignored him.

Looking down at the directions in the book, you had remembered your successful attempt at making one of your father’s shoes disappear. He had been so proud of you, he didn’t care that he only had one brown Oxford instead of two.

“How did you do that?” Fred asked, watching as you easily made the rat in front of you vanish.

“Practice,” you said absently, turning your head to look back into the textbook.

Fred began to try the spell himself, his focus on the goblet he had taken from the great hall. He did the right wand movements, but his pronunciation was all wrong. You watched as the spell rebounded off the goblet and hit his tie, making the bottom half of it vanish. His hand flew to his chest, his mouth curved in a disbelieving grin when he didn’t feel the point of his tie.

“Well, bloody hell, that could have been much worse,” he gasped out, pushing his hair off his face and leaning back in his chair.

You couldn’t help the small nervous laugh that escaped your lips, but you were able to stifle it quickly. Fred had noticed your smile and glanced at you, happy to amuse you.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Fred regaining his composure after nearly vanishing himself. You pretended to read your book, but you had already read the page dozens of times. You wanted an excuse to not talk to Fred.

“Ever going to turn the page?” Fred asked from beside you, and you became very aware of his eyes on the side of your face.

“I’m absorbing the information,” you replied flatly, keeping your head in the book to hide your blush.

He laughed, sitting straight in his seat. He seemed to be attempting the spell again. You bit your lip as you watched him practice, wondering if you should correct him so he doesn’t hurt himself.

He had just begun to say the spell when you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait!” he glanced at you and your hand on his shoulder, smirking at you.

“Yes, darling?”

You rolled your eyes and felt the urge to gag. Your face crinkled in disgust and Fred smiled.

“Your pronunciation is wrong.”

“Well go on then,” he said, urging you to continue.

“Evanesco,” you said simply, but Fred’s eyes wrinkled in confusion.

“That’s what I’m saying,” he said, turning back to the goblet but lowering his wand, “Evenesco.”

He had replaced the ‘a’ with an ‘e’ sound, but he hadn’t heard it, you supposed.

“It’s ev-an-es-co,” you said slowly, placing your pronunciation on the ‘an’, “you’re saying ev-en-es-co.”

His eyebrows raised, finally understanding. He repeated it to you slowly, and you nodded your head when he said it right.

He smiled confidently, casting the spell on his goblet. The goblet turned foggy, and Fred could wave his hand through it like it was a ghost.

He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“This is miserable,” he groaned.

You waved your wand and said the verbal part of the spell, finishing off the goblet. It completely disappeared and Fred let out another groan, rolling his head back in annoyance.

“You’re miserable,” he said to you teasingly.

You looked at him through your lashes, your brows furrowed, “Whatever, Fred,” your face grimaced in annoyance, “I’m just trying to help, your welcome, by the way.”

You pulled your bag onto your lap and began to pack up your books.

Fred let out a sigh like he was going to say something. You turned to him, but he merely shook his head.

“Forget it,” he said, seeming to be at a loss of words.

You stood from your seat the second McGonagall dismissed class, leaving Fred at your shared desk.

“She’s totally into me!”

“She hates your guts, mate,” George said, pulling his lips into a thin-lined sympathy smile.

Fred scoffed and shook his head, his long hair falling over his forehead.

“You don’t get it,” he pressed, determined to make George see.

“She looks like she wants to throw herself into the Forbidden Forest every time she sees you,” George replied, determined to stop his brother from future heartbreak.

“Whatever, just you watch,” Fred said, tossing his Quidditch broom from hand to hand and looking at the massive stands above them, empty for the practice, “in a few weeks she’ll be in one of those seats, cheering me on.”

“He’s lost it,” Harry mumbled to George as he walked past, baffled by Fred’s dazed look.

George nodded hastily, following Harry away from his lovesick brother.

Fred was not often detoured by anyone’s cautionary guidance, so the endless warnings from George slid off his ego like melted butter.

Fred had spent so much time in the last Quidditch match with his eyes glued to the Ravenclaw student section, looking for you, that he had barely hit any bludgers the entire game. Oliver had some tasteful words for him in the changing rooms, but it was no worse than his mother’s screaming.

You were not at the Quidditch match, you never were. You had always used the advantage of the empty castle to go to the kitchens. The elves were the only ones left there, and you liked talking with them. Some times Luna would join you.

It seemed you and Fred were going opposite directions while searching for each other at the same time.

No matter how many cookies Dobby shoved towards you and Luna, you could not get Fred out of your head.

You thought about his arms wrapped around you on the stairs, you thought about the way he could always make your cheeks burn, and you thought of the way his eyes poured into your face like it was the only thing he’d ever seen. You hated him. He was rude, arrogant, and annoying. He ran around your head constantly.

McGonagall had some choice words for Fred that night after the match. The sulking from the loss had been toned down, but the hushed sounds of Oliver’s feet pounding against the floor in his bedroom could be heard all the way from the common room.

“Where is Wood?” she burst through the portrait hole, still in her robes she wore to the match.

“He’s upstairs, why?” Harry replied, looking nervous.

“I need to have a word with him,” she cast a glance at Fred, “and his methods of training his beaters.”

Fred and George both shot from where they sat on the couch.

“What?” George yelled.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Mister Weasley,” she squinted at them, “whichever one of you was looking around at the Rave-” she stopped before she could finish her sentence as if she had an epiphany.

Her pursed lips twisted into an evil looking smile.

“You know, Mister Weasley,” she took a step towards the boys and spoke to them only, “dating a Ravenclaw would show great strides in house unity,” Fred’s eyes bulged out of his head and George was already turning pink with laughter, “perhaps then you could focus on Quidditch again.”

George was nearly purple due to lack of air, and Harry’s mouth was agape in shock as McGonagall whisked her robes and swiftly climbed back out of the portrait hole.

“What is she on about?” Harry asked George.

Fred flopped onto the couch and covered his face with his hands. His life was over. If McGonagall could catch onto something like that, couldn’t you? You hadn’t started to flirt back, and Fred was beginning to wonder if George was right about your feelings towards him.

Soon enough, George was spouting everything McGonagall had said before he could catch his breath. He told anyone in the common room how much you hated Fred, and how much he desperately fancied you. Fred figured there was no use to stop him, because once again, if McGonagall could catch on, couldn’t everyone else?

Sunday morning was always rough for you. You pulled your heavy quilt closer to your cold cheeks, hoping for the sun to go back down and the weekend to restart. It never did.

You slipped on a pair of jeans and a tight turtle neck. Still feeling the cold air of the castle seeping through, you pulled on a sweater over the turtle neck. You tugged on some wool socks and pulled the fabric of the shirt as high up your neck as it would go.

You and Luna had plans to go to Hagrid’s hut today, he had promised her some magical flower seeds he had found in his garden. You liked to spend time with Luna, she was an easing presence and you always knew how to talk to her, even if most people didn’t.

You clutched an old muggle novel to your chest, hoping to trap some of your body heat. The hallways were surprisingly crowded for a Sunday morning, and you glanced at your watch, seeing breakfast had just ended.

You noticed that a lot of students with red ties were looking at you oddly. They would see you and smile widely, as if you were a new friend to them. You kept your head down until you met Luna in front of the great hall.

“Did you hear the news?” she asked before she even greeted you.

“What?”

“I just saw Harry, he said McGonagall told Fred to ask you out.”

You laughed, expecting her to do so as well. She didn’t and her face stayed stoic. She began to walk outside.

You were locked into place for a second before you jumped into line with her.

“What?” you repeated.

“Harry told me-” she began, but you waved your hands, cutting her off.

“No, I heard you, but what do you mean? What did McGonagall say?”

Luna had to have finally gone loony.

“He told me that after they lost Quidditch yesterday, she came in looking for Fred, she said he was quite distracted during the match,” she said, looking dreamily at you, “and she said something about how dating a Ravenclaw would be great for house unity,” Luna finished, toying with the tote bag at her side.

“Why did Harry think the Ravenclaw had to be me?” you asked, thinking there was a huge misunderstanding.

“Oh, well,” she said like she had forgotten a large part of the story, “after George heard what McGonagall said, he lost it. Harry said he laughed so hard he cried,” Luna giggled to herself while imagining the sight, “and he told everyone in the common room that Fred fancied you.”

Your face turned bright red with anger and embarrassment. The entire Gryffindor house had been laughing all night because George said Fred fancied you.

You were about to burst into protests, insist that it’s not true, but a gaggle of second years wearing red ties all pointed at you, talking among themselves.

You stepped towards them, making sure your prefect badge was visible. You watched their eyes flash down to the blue pin, and back up at your face, eyes wide. They scurried off and you fell back into place with Luna.

“That was rude of them,” Luna said, looping her arm with yours.

“Yeah,” you said quietly under your breath, your mind cloudy with thoughts.

You and Luna walked quietly out to Hagrid’s. You glanced up and saw the last person you had wanted to see.

Fred and George stood at the point where the path diverged to the Quidditch pitch and Hagrid’s hut, throwing a little flame-like ball to each other, bouncing it off their arms, feet, and chests. A small group of some younger kids had huddled around them, ‘ooing’ and ‘awing’ at each pass.

Fred had a large smile on his face, and the sight of it made your stomach churn with nerves.

You ducked your head down, hoping you and Luna would pass without a problem. You would not.

“Hi Fred,” Luna lifted a hand to wave at him, and the small light fell onto the ground as Fred saw you, “hi George.”

George smiled evilly at the sight of his brother nervously looking anywhere but you.

“Fun looking game your playing,” Luna said, trying to stop to talk, but you dragged her along.

“See you later Luna, Y/n!” George called out to the two of you, the laughter obvious in his voice.

“Why didn’t you want to talk to them? You could have asked Fred about what Harry said,” Luna asked you soothingly, looking at you curiously.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, feeling very overwhelmed, “it’s weird. I don’t even know what happened but the thought of it is so weird,” you paused, trying to grasp the words, “I mean, Fred can’t like me. We detest each other, its fun.”

“Well, do you like him?” she had asked the one question you were avoiding.

Fred had always been a thorn in your side. Ever since you met him he was rude. He never apologized for anything, he laughed, poked, and prodded at you for his own amusement. Yet, whenever you saw his soft-looking hair, you swallowed hard. When he inched closer to you, even just to whisper something rude, you felt your chest tighten. He looked at you, and you could swear he actually cared about what you were saying. Maybe detest was a little strong, perhaps just annoyed.

Granted, he was a teenage boy, and you are a teenage girl, mixed messages are bound to be sent. You thought you had been clear with your messages to Fred, though. “Leave me alone,” nothing bitter, nothing kind, just the wish to be left alone. Of course, Fred did not read your message that way. The enticing message he got was more along the lines of: “I’m going to pretend I want you to leave me alone, but please, don’t. Chase me through the hallways, confess undying love for me, kiss me passionately”. Now, it is entirely possible that Fred’s interpretation was a little clouded by his own wants and wishes, but this did not stop him.

The talk of the castle, for at least the following school week, was you and Fred.

You had never been whispered about, pointed at, or thought of like this. Fred seemed to be enjoying it.

In class Monday, Fred pretended nothing had happened. He swung his arm over the back of your chair and waited for the look of disgust to flash across your face, which it did, and he chuckled to himself.

Soon enough, the whispers and pointing had subsided, and they were replaced by odd looks as if they were disbelieving of something.

Luna found you in the courtyard sitting under a tree and skipped over to you.

“You hadn’t told me Fred asked you out,” she wiggled her eyebrows, “officially.”

Once again, you laughed, but she did not. She sat in front of you, crossing her legs.

“Oh my-” you trailed off, lifting your head to look at Luna, “what’s happened now?”

“Hermione told me that Fred has been raving to everyone about how you’re dating.”

Your eyes were wild with disbelief. You couldn’t have even comprehended what was going on at this school these days.

“Well, no one’s told me that we’re dating,” you said, your voice riddled with annoyance.

In perfect timing, Fred, George, and Lee bounded from the school and out to the courtyard. They were laughing and shoving each other, looking to be having a great time.

You stood from the ground, dusting off your pants and walking over to the three with fury.

“Fred!” you called out to him, and he stopped and turned to you.

A look of fear flashed on his face, but he covered it with something else, was it admiration? Love?

You clenched your jaw and narrowed your eyes, stepping close to him. He tilted his head down to look at you, a small smile on his lips.

Around you, George, Lee, and Luna stood with their arms crossed, watching intently.

Your bodies were almost touching, and your finger stabbed into his chest.

“Who do you think you are?” you said in a hushed tone through gritted teeth.

Once again, Fred’s face fell for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around your waist in some sort of embrace. You squirmed from his touch and backed away from him.

“Who do you think you are?” you repeated, this time louder. George and Lee flinched from behind you.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” he asked sweetly.

Your face twisted with confusion, what is he on about?

“What?”

He continued, stepping closer to you.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked earnestly, moving to rub his hand on your arm.

He was trying to flip the script, make you feel crazy.

“Fred, you’ve lost it, really,” you replied, walking back to the tree to gather your books.

“Maybe when you’ve regained consciousness,” you walked back up to him, keeping your distance, “or the effects of whatever potion you took start to wear off, please try to explain what is going on.”

You walked away from them, leaving Fred with a wicked smile.

“Alright, see you later!” he called out to you.

You turned your head to look at him, your hair blew in front of your face but Fred could see your puzzled expression. His smirk grew wider and he turned to George, Lee, and Luna. They looked awfully concerned.

“Oh,” he placed his hands on his hips, “isn’t she great?”

You had gotten to Transfiguration early, your prefect duties switched for the week. You crossed your legs and placed a book on them, reading discretely while McGonagall was still in her office.

Just as she began to address the class, Fred strolled in, hands in his pockets. He slipped into the seat next to you and you bookmarked your page. You scooted your chair in and slipped the worn book into your bag, listening to McGonagall begin her lecture. Monday’s were often boring lecture days in Transfiguration.

You heard the screech of Fred’s chair on the floor, and in the corner of your eye saw him moving closer to you. He rested his elbow on the desk and placed his chin in his palm. He leaned close to you.

“Hello,” he whispered, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You ignored him, dipping your quill into your ink in case McGonagall said something note-worthy.

“What’s ‘a matter,” he paused as if he was thinking of the most annoying thing to say to you, “darling?”

You audibly gagged, and his smile widened.

“What do you want?” you caved, asking him.

“Oh nothing,” he leaned back in his chair, still whispering to you, “just for you to be my girlfriend.”

You went rigid. Your face suddenly got very warm. You lost grip of your quill and it toppled over your ink, sending dark liquid across the desk and onto your white sleeve. You cursed loudly out of reflex and it caught McGonagall’s attention.

“Excuse me, Miss Y/l/n?”

Everyone turned to look at you and Fred in the back of the room, some people smirking. Fred stayed leaned back in his chair, watching you.

“I’m sorry Professor,” you stumbled out, wiping both the ink and your sleeve at the same time, making both things worse, “I just-”

Fred pulled his wand out from beside you and did a simple cleaning spell, you supposed. The ink receded back into its bottle and the stain on your sleeve disappeared. McGonagall watched him intently.

“Very resourceful Weasley, Miss Y/l/n, please don’t disrupt my class again,” she said curtly, returning to the lesson.

You heard a few snickers from your classmates, your face still a deep shade of red. You swallowed hard as you felt your heart beating in your ears.

Fred leaned forward again so his mouth was aligned with your ear.

“What do you say?” he whispered.

“What are you talking about Fred? Why are you doing all this?” you asked, straining to keep your desperate voice in a whisper.

“I’m only having some fun,” he replied as if he hadn’t been making your life a living hell for the past weeks.

You shot him a pleading look, and when he saw your flushed cheeks and watery eyes, his face softened.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on your knee, a knot formed in your throat and shivers went down your arms, “I didn’t mean to-” he trailed off and your jaw clenched. You returned your gaze to the front of the class.

“Listen, I’ve just been,” he paused, searching for the words, “I’ve been playing a sort of prank. On everyone but us.”

His tone was soft and playful as if he were letting you in on a secret. You supposed he was.

You raised your eyebrows, pressing him to continue.

“Well, George basically told everyone in our house that I fancy you, so I wanted to have some fun with it, switch it on them.”

You pressed your eyebrows together, still looking to the front of the room while Fred was inches away from your ear.

“I’ve told everyone we’re dating,” he said plainly, “house unity and all, as McGonagall said.”

“So that was true? What Harry told Luna?” you said before you could stop yourself, happy to finally get answers.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what Harry said, but I’m sure he didn’t leave anything out.”

“Why did George tell everyone that? That you,” you trailed off, feeling the words choking in your mouth, “that you fancy me?”

“Because I do,” he said quickly, and just as quickly moved on, “so what do you say? Want to be my girlfriend-” he paused, realizing what he had just said, “well, my girlfriend of sorts, not like my real girlfriend, because I’m sure you wouldn’t want to, and-” he stopped himself.

This time it was his turn for his cheeks to burn and his eyes to awkwardly avoid yours.

“Why do all this? Seems a lot for a joke that no one but us will laugh at,” you said, trying to ignore his confession.

“I’m willing to go to the ends of the Earth for a joke, my dear.”

Fred was dreadfully serious when saying that, and this became clear within hours.

Walking past the Dungeons and up the many stairs to your common room, you heard Fred call out to you.

“Wait up!” he was breaking away from a large group of Gryffindors, and all of them watched him with a keen eye,

“What, Fred?”

“Hey, that's not a very girlfriend-y tone,” he wrapped his arm easily around you.

You were sure it was meant to be sweet, but it felt a bit imprisoning.

“I never agreed to this,” you didn’t shake off his arm, but you felt inclined to. You were aware of the many eyes pouring into your back.

“I thought we had? Oh,” his arm left your shoulder, and you felt a little colder, “well then I suppose I could leave it all be, go back on my word, humiliate myself.”

His tone was a playful one, and you couldn’t help the bashful smile that reached your cheeks. You knew you had no obligation to Fred, but the whispers and gossip had seemed to subside during this new joke of his. You stopped at the landing, and the group of Gryffindors walked past you, staring at you both. Fred waved them off and nodded his head towards you, smiling.

“Why should I?” you clutched some textbooks to your chest, feeling grateful for the wall it put between you and Fred. He looked down at you, his hair falling into his forehead.

“Well,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets, inching closer to you, “as I said, I just think it could be a bit of fun.”

“Fun for you. What’s in it for me?”

“What? Besides utter fame and popularity from being associated with me?”

“Oh shove off, Fred,” you rolled your eyes at him, but once again could not help the smile that spread across your face.

“See? I’m growing on you already.”

“I’m still seeing no benefit for me.”

“Well, I do see where your coming from, but I’d like to raise another point,” he slipped a hand from his pants and waved it casually while talking, “I will indeed pretend like we are dating even if you don’t.”

“So essentially, you would just be flirting with me while I hurl insults at you?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“Is that the image you want, Fred?” you teased.

You moved to lean against the wall behind you, and Fred trailed after you.

“Any image is a good one,” he winked dramatically at you.

You shrunk away from him and gagged, sending him into a fit of laughter.

“I hate it already.”

“So you’ll do it?” he asked.

You breathed in, looking at him seriously. His hazel eyes were dark in this light, his hair had gone a deeper red in the lack of warm weather and sunshine. He towered over you slightly, and you looked at him through your lashes.

Shrugging your shoulders, you agreed weakly.

Fred saw the error of his thinking almost immediately. Walking through the hallways with you, he felt his heart soar higher and higher each time you laughed. When you would loosen up, or walk a little closer to him. He was being awfully unfair to himself, making himself think that you had something, some sort of relationship. It was like dangling a treat in front of a dog and wanking it away right when the dog drooled.

He saw the flaming house, and still walked in, looking for a place to sleep.

“Why, hello,” Fred drawled, coming up from behind you in the hall.

You felt his hand snake around your waist, and he pulled you. Your feet twisted from under you and you twirled, turning to face him. Your hair had skewed into your face, and he watched your delicate hand reach up to brush it away.

You looked dazed as if you had a lot on your mind. He smiled down at you and you did your best to reciprocate it.

“Are you alright?” he asked, dropping his hand from your hip.

“Yeah, just-” you took a deep breath in, “just got a lot of homework, been a bit busy with my prefect stuff.”

This was not what was bothering you. You felt a lot of inner conflicts these days, an endless moody and angsty monologue sounding off in your head day and night. You felt odd. You felt odd for agreeing to Fred’s stupid plan. You felt odd for toying with him and yourself. You had disliked him just last month, and now you let him wrap his arm around your shoulder, let him hold your waist. You felt like a traitor to yourself, letting him win you over with a few charming looks. You felt even worse when you thought of Fred’s confession. He had said he fancied you, and the idea of pretending to date him didn’t alarm you for some reason. You hated the feeling of toying with his emotions or allowing him to live out some sort of fantasy. Everything about it made you feel awful.

You didn’t feel as awful, though, when Fred would call out a comment from across the dining hall that would make your cheeks burn and all the other girls swoon. You didn’t feel as awful when he would sit in silence with you by the black lake, keeping you company among the chilling wind. You didn’t feel as awful when he slipped little notes into your bag when you left Transfiguration.

You had enough, one too many genuine looks of admiration. You needed to tell Fred how you felt.

You caught him on his way back from Quidditch practice. He was trailing near the end of the group, huddled with George and Harry. He had some dirt on his forehead, and his cheeks were tinted pink. He smelled of grass and sweat.

You pulled your cardigan tighter around you, wishing you had brought your scarf. Your hair whipped in the wind around you, and you rocked on your feet.

You began walking to him, and when he saw you he smiled widely.

“Hey!” he called out, walking faster to meet you.

“Hi,” you said nervously.

“I’ll meet you guys back in the common room,” he told George and Harry, who glanced over their shoulders at the two of you.

It was dusk and he looked strikingly handsome. You felt like you were seeing him as a different person. He wasn’t the boy who bewitched snowballs to attack you, he wasn’t the boy who laughed at your scraped hands. He wasn’t the boy who shoved Lee at you, and he wasn’t the boy who awkwardly danced with McGonagall. He was the boy who held you in his arms, stopping you from falling over the stairs. He was the boy who looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, he was the boy who held you above anything else.

Your mouth was agape as you looked at him, he stood awkwardly waiting for you to say something. You looked at the ground, licking your lips and feeling them dry as soon as the cold air grazed them again.

“I wanted to talk to you,” you said quietly, hoping your voice would fade into the wind and carry you away.

“What’s up?” he looked down at you nervously.

“Fred, I-” he cut you off, placing a hand on your arm.

“You can’t do this anymore?” he looked deeply at you but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

You didn’t want to have this talk anymore, you felt content, suddenly, in pretending. You could both pretend to love each other until it wasn’t pretending. The lines would blur and soon, his kisses would come easily and his hands would have their place on you. You would touch his soft hair and know his eyes only looked at you. But you had already said the words, or rather, he did.

“I just,” you kicked the dirt beneath you, hoping he would finish your sentence again, he didn’t.

“I don’t think its fair,” you looked up at him finally and felt surprised to feel tears in your eyes, you blinked, forcing them to subside, “to either of us.”

You heard him gulp, and his eyes moved to look at the castle behind you. The candles had been lit and the stone glowed from the inside.

“I get it,” he said, removing his hand from your arm.

You looked down at where his hand had been and felt a tear drip down your cheek.

“Fred-”

He shook his head, pulling his mouth into a line. You stopped talking, feeling the words stuck in your heart.

You really wished you hadn’t said anything. You wished you could pretend again.

He walked past you, leaving you in the dusk. You hadn’t meant to, but a sob escaped your mouth. You heard his feet shuffle for a moment, and stop. He walked back to you.

He had finally been able to fall asleep among the fire, and it seemed you had come to join him at some point. He didn’t know when, but looking at you now, it seemed you had been burning for a while.

“What’s got you so torn up about this?” he said gently, stopping a few paces away from you, “Didn’t fall in love with me, did ya?”

A laugh fell from your lips at the same time another sob did. Your shoulders hunched over more, and Fred’s heart hurt him. He walked to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned to face him, and you both moved at the same time. He pulled you close into his chest and your cheek pressed against him. He smelled, he was dirty, and he was tired, but he still held you tighter than you had ever been held before.

You pulled away from him after a while, coming to terms with yourself in the moment of affection. You wiped your tears from your face with your sleeve, taking a few deep breaths.

“I think,” you hiccuped, feeling it hard to speak, “I think that the pretending was too hard.”

Fred felt guilt wash over him. He felt guilty for himself, because you had said exactly what he was feeling. He couldn’t stand to pretend, to keep himself from gripping your hand, or from kissing you any chance he got. He wanted it all to be real, he wanted this wall between you to crumble into a genuine relationship. He felt guilty for making you feel this way. He felt guilty for pressuring you into this allusion of intimacy. He hadn’t stopped to consider if this would be negative for you, only insisting it would all work out for the best.

As he watched your uneven breathing and swollen nose and eyes, he knew this was not the best.

He breathed hard, forcing himself not to cry as he looked at you. George was supposed to be the sensitive one, but Fred had always been a sympathetic crier.

“Me too,” he replied, his voice sounding far, far away.

You looked at him, feeling terrified. The cold air was moving through you liked you were transparent. Tears kept flowing down your face, and no matter how fast you dried them, you only cried more. Your head felt miles away from your body, so you stepped closer to him, hoping to step closer to yourself too.

“I don’t think I want to pretend,” you croaked out.

He blinked at you, and you saw a single tear fall down his cheek. He didn’t move to brush it away, and it moved slowly. It left a clean mark on his dirt-stained face.

You took a step towards him, covering your hand with your sleeve. You cupped the back of his neck with one hand and brought your sleeved hand to his cheek. You wiped the tear and the dirt away, but your hand didn’t move. You peaked your fingers from your sleeve and they grazed his face. His eyes fluttered closed and your throat tightened as more tears poured from your eyes. Your vision was blurry as you traced his face, moving over his nose, eyebrows, and lips. You stopped to cup his cheek, and he leaned into your palm. You felt the wetness of more tears fall onto your hand, and you bit your lips, holding in a wretched noise.

“Fred?”

His eyes fluttered open, and you realized his hands had found their way onto your waist, he held you tightly.

“Do you want to pretend?” you asked him.

He moved his head from your cheek and kept his wet eyes locked with yours.

“I want you,” his voice was hoarse and sad, but that was all you needed to hear.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck and he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

The dusk had turned into the night, and you pulled away from Fred. You looked up at him and swallowed away the tears that remained. You began to walk past him and up to the castle. He followed you quickly.

You were scared. You had safety in pretending, knowing this was all something for fun. But as you looked at Fred now, you saw something deeper. You saw the threat of genuine love and connection, the threat of heartbreak.

Neither of you wanted to go without the other tonight, you had decided. You wordlessly followed him to his common room, and he slipped his hand into yours. You had both ducked into a prefect bathroom on the way there, looking at yourselves and covering your swollen eyes.

He said the password to a portrait of a large lady, and she looked suspiciously at you both.

“Are you two alright? You’ve just about missed curfew,” she said, her voice booming through the staircase.

“Yeah, we’re alright, just tired from practice, is all,” Fred reassured her, and the door swung open. He walked in first, and you followed.

You relished in the warmth of the spacious room, feeling drawn to the fireplace. You walked over to it and sat on a large couch. The room was relatively empty, a few kids hunched over books.

Fred sat next to you, still in his Quidditch robes. He grabbed your legs with his hand and guided them to rest on one of his legs, hanging over it. This angled your body to him, and he moved his arm to wrap around you.

“When did you realize?” he asked, his face lit by the fire.

“Just then, when you walked up to me after your practice.”

His chest moved with a chuckle and you moved your head to looked up at him.

“Well that's a little embarrassing for me,” he said, pushing a piece of your hair out of your face while you gazed up at him, “I've known since I met you.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t,” you said lightly, assuming he was trying to be some sort of romantic and inflating the truth.

“I did,” he said seriously, “I teased you for so long for a reason.”

“Because you’re an idiot?”

“Yes.”

You both laughed, pulling each other closer.

“And because I liked you.”

You rolled your eyes, sinking deeper into him. You felt yourself getting tired and you peered up at him. His eyes were half-closed and his face was drooping.

“Fred, you’re tired, why don’t you go to bed,” you began to move off of him, but he pulled you back.

“Only if you make me a deal,” he said mischievously.

“What?”

“I’ll go upstairs and take a quick shower, but only if you come with me,” he replied.

“I am not showering with you, pervert,” you smacked his arm and stood from the couch, blushing furiously.

He smiled and grabbed your hand, turning it to kiss your palm. You shivered at his touch.

“No, just come lay with me,” he looked up at you, suddenly serious, “I want to be with you tonight.”

Your heart sank to your stomach and you bit your lip. You couldn’t speak, so you nodded your head slowly.

Fred fished his wand from his robes and waved it towards the stairs, performing the counterspell for the stairs. You followed him up to his room, where he put his finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. When he cracked open the door, it was dark and the curtains for the beds had been drawn. He crept over to a chest at the foot of his bed and looked at you before turning to its contents. He pulled out two large pajama pants, both plaid, and two heavy sweaters. He tossed one of each on his bed and took the others with him.

“Here, you can sleep in these,” he whispered to you, and it felt like you would blush forever.

He smiled softly at you before closing the curtains for you, leaving you to change.

“Oi, mate,” you heard someone’s annoyed and hoarse voice, “what took you so long? Practice ended an hour ago.”

“I was talking with Y/n,” you heard the bathroom door open, “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow, I’m gonna shower. And don’t wake me up for breakfast tomorrow, I want to sleep in.”

You smiled to yourself, holding the soft sweater in your hands. It had a large ‘F’ on it, and you traced your fingers over it. You slid out of your jeans and folded them, placing them on the floor by the trunk. You slid on the pants he gave you and silently laughed as they easily ran past your feet and dragged on the floor. You folded them at the waist, and they were still too long. You had just slipped on the sweater when Fred slid open the curtain. He watched you fold your shirt and place it with your jeans. His eyes trailed from his sweater to the way his pants covered your feet. He smiled widely and drew you closer to him by grabbing your hips.

You looked up at him, your chests pressed together. He brought one hand up to your jaw, tilting it up to align with his face. His lips parted and so did yours, the air between you becoming a mixture of your breaths. His was minty, he must have just brushed his teeth.

His thumb grazed your bottom lip, and he finally closed the space between you. His neck craned down to you, but when you stood on your toes he was able to stand straight. You pressed as close to him as you could, and so did he. His lips were warm against your cold ones. He felt the many places that had been chapped and bitten, running his tongue over them slowly. You sighed and ran your chilled hands up his sweater, feeling him shiver beneath you. Your fingertips grazed the muscles on his back, tracing every line you could feel.

You pulled away first, sinking down to stand flat on your feet and rest your forehead on his chest.

“I’m so glad we didn’t pretend to do that,” Fred laughed out, pulling you close to him.

You smiled and hugged him, before moving to the other side of the small bed. You both slid under the covers silently, thinking that if either of you said something, things would suddenly be awkward.

The lack of bed only made him hold you tighter, and the two of you fell asleep relatively soon.

You were awoken by the sounds of laughter. The curtains were still drawn, and Fred’s arm was still wrapped around you. Your leg was resting on him as he laid on his back, hugging you close to him. Your head lifted from his chest as you squinted your eyes.

“No, he said he wanted to sleep in, mate,” you heard George say. The door opened and you heard footsteps walking towards it.

“You think they finally told each other?” Lee asked George, pulling on a wool hat.

“I hope so, bloody awful letting Fred think he tricked us,” George said before closing the door behind them.

You smiled and let your head sink back onto Fred. He stirred and pulled you closer to him. Through the fabric of his sweater, you swore you could hear the steady rhythm of his heart.

[bohemianrhvps]

Mon amour, puisque tu m'aimes. - G.W.

Summary: George and Fred barely fight but when it happens they might not talk to each other’s for days. After a big fight, George stormed out of the shop and went to muggle London for a walk to calm his nerves. He found himself in one of those old vintage cafes and as he was sitting outside he spot a little flower shop across the street, playing some vintage french songs then he saw her and his heart started trembling.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, fluff, modern!George and muggle!reader.

note: I love Edith Piaf and vintage songs with all my heart and lately I can’t stop to listen “Hymn à l’amour” by Edith Piaf. Physically the reader is based on me (hope that’s not a big deal). I had this idea because I think that George would definitely fall for a muggle, he finds them fascinating just like his father.

‘How dare he say something like that? How dare Fred tell me that my job is not enough and I need to focus more?’

George was furious, he and his brother Fred just had one of their biggest fight ever. He stormed of the shop that he and his brother owned leaving a furious Fred and a confused Ron behind him. He went straight to the Leaky Cauldron and entered muggle London crowded streets. It was early evening and almost everyone was going home after a long day at work.

He decided to calm down his nerves and take a walk around London’s little alleys. His mind was full of thoughts, he was thinking about the words he and his twin brother said to each other’s, angry words that it doesn’t matter that they were said impulsively they still hurt.

After a while he found himself in a little street, less crowded, one of those roads that seemed like those roads in small country villages. A little vintage cafes caught his eyes and he decided that he needed a coffee, even if he didn’t enjoyed his flavour. After ordering, paying and picked up his coffee, he went out to sit in one of those two-seater tables outside the cafes.

Vintage french musics draw his attention, making him stand up and look around trying to figure out where it came from. His eyes landed on this little flower shop on the street corner so he crossed the street and walk towards it. He was never a big fan of Herbology at Hogwarts or plants in general but he was fascinated by these plants, he also saw lemon trees and they were so yellow and so beautiful and their smell was magnificent and he wondered how could they be so beautiful, they were simple and common plants but they were the most beautiful he had ever seen.

Y/n was watering the tulips inside her little shop, humming that old french song that she put in her “oldies” playlist when she spotted this tall red haired man outside her shop, looking at her plants almost suspiciously and she wondered what he was thinking about.

“Did you know that talking to plants makes them grow better?” she calmly said leaning on the front door, still holding the watering can with both hands.

“Is that the secret to having such beautiful plants?” George said turning fully around.

When they met each other’s eyes they remained silent for a couple of minutes. She was mesmerised by his features, he was indeed handsome and his hair was a fiery shade of orange. On the other hand he was mesmerised by her looks, he found her particular, almost weird but she was absolutely dazzling. She had short brown hair, her haircut right under the ear, that perfectly framed her round face. She was wearing a white flannel shirt and a pair of beige flannel pants and the first buttons of her shirt were open. She was at least one foot lower than George, she wasn’t skinny, her waist was slightly narrower than her hips that widened, highlighting her fleshy thighs. And George, being the thighs man he is, had to refrain from staring too long. She was so simple yet so particular and captivating.

“So you like my plants, ay?” she said smiling and putting the watering can on the side.

“I’m not a big fan of flowers and plants but I have to admit that your plants look very tempting.”

‘You are very temping. No wait- George what the heck. Calm down your hormones, mate’ he mentally cursed himself for thinking such things about her.

“If my plants are tempting let me show you something then.” She laughed and went inside her shop, shouting a muffled “Come in” waiting for him to follow her. After having rummaged among the various plants she came back to George with a little succulent in her hands.

“This is a little Echeveria elegans, which is a succulent plant.” she smiled placing the plant on the counter.

George found himself entering the shop and looking around it, it was much smaller than his but it was lovely, full of colours and aromas. He looked at the plant she brought with her and raised his eyebrows, wondering why she took that plant.

“I want to give you this plant.” Her smile was so big that he sweared her skin was going to break. He panicked because he didn’t know how to pay that plant sure he had money with him but muggle money is different from Galleons. He opened his jacket to get his wallet but her hand stopped him.

“No, it’s a gift.” her hand was still on his forearm and he couldn’t help but smile at the contact.

“Forgive my rudeness for not introducing myself sooner but I’m (y/n).” her hand stretched out waiting for George to hold it.

“I’m George and it’s very nice meeting you.” he smiled softly at her, making her blush. She couldn’t help but think about how handsome and charming he was.

“You’re new around here, right? I’ve never seen your face before.” and what a beautiful face she may add.

“No actually I found myself in this street after a long walk and had a coffee in that lovely cafes I want to add that I think I’m going back because that coffe was amazing and I usually don’t drink or like coffe. Anyway I own a shop with my twin brother.” he was babbling but Oh Merlin she made him so nervous.

“Oh yeah? And where is this shop?” the way her brow frowned over in curiosity was adorable.

“Oh it’s across town actually, yeah” his initial enthusiasm had now disappeared.

George looked at his watch and realised that it was almost dinner time and tonight he was supposed to cook for him and Fred.

“I’m sorry but I really need to go now, I guess I’ll see you around then.” he said making his way out of the shop.

“I’ll wait for you to come back here again then.” she smiled at him. The sunset made the whole situation looking like one of those romantic muggle movies his parents made him watch.

He waved his hand at her and walked towards the Leaky Cauldron with the biggest smile on his face and this little plant on his huge hands, he felt like Neville back in Hogwarts.

*The next day*

“Good morning Dear (Y/n)”

“Good morning Margaret”

“Oh you’re wearing a dress and you’re in a good mood today. The usual, love?” (Y/n) simply laughed at the old and lovely woman that owned the cafe and nodded at her question.

“Can I ask you something?” she said sipping her hot cappuccino.

“Anything dear” Margaret smiled at her.

“Did a tall red-haired guy come in here yesterday?” she tried not to look very hopeful.

“How could I forget him? He had this fiery red hair, this purple suit and he was so tall. Is he your boyfriend?” same old nosey Margaret.

“What? No no” she blushed laughing nervously.

“Oh, okay then.” Margaret simply shrugged.

“If he comes again I offer everything he orders.” she smiled and hurried to open her flower shop.

**

“I don’t know why but she was capable of making me nervous. Me? George Fabian Weasley nervous in front of a girl? She’s beautiful though, very particular may I add. Anyway I’ll probably visit her again tod-“

“George who the fuck are you talking to?” Fred came out of his room hearing George talking to a plant?

“Oh Fred ehm nothing, I mean no one” he laughed nervously scratching his neck.

“Do you remember that we have lunch at the Burrow right? Ron and Hermione wants to tell us something.” Fred began to have breakfast as if nothing had happened.

“Alright but I have to go now” George rushed down the stairs, making his way to (Y/n)’s flower shop.

He stopped at the cafes and just as he was about to pay, Margaret stopped him.

“(Y/n) offers” she winked at him. His brows furred but he cracked a smile.

“What’s your name, dear?”

“George” he said before leaving the cafes and run towards her shop.

While he was sipping his coffe, he stayed outside waiting for her clients to leave but admiring her. She was radiant today, she was wearing a yellow long flower dress, with long sleeves balloon and she curled her hair a bit. ‘How cool, they seem shorter’ he thought.

“You know you didn’t have to, right?” he said raising his coffee as soon she was alone in the shop.

“I know, but I wanted to.” everything about her was simply adorable.

He looked around and he found these beautiful and aromatic lilies.

“Just her favourites.” he whispered to himself but (Y/n) heard that and she felt her heart clenched a bit and she didn’t know why.

“Can I have a few of these?” he turned her way.

She took the lilies and made a lovely bouquet, she didn’t want to be nosey but..

“Are these for your girlfriend?” she said tying the boquet with a pink ribbon.

“My girlfr- no no, these are for my mom.” he answered almost too quickly. “We have a family lunch, my brother and his wife want to tell us something. I’m wondering what it is.” again he was babbling and tell her things that she probably didn’t want to hear.

“Maybe she’s pregnant, I don’t know.” she answered giggling. He was going to pay but again she stopped him, shaking her head with a simple smile.

“Let me know if your mum liked them.” she waved her hand and again George found himself with the biggest smile of his face.

**

“Merlin’s beard George, they’re beautiful.” Molly was thrilled when she saw the lilies. “(Y/n)’s flawless flowers.. never saw it in Diagon Alley, is it a new shop?”

“Actually mom it’s a shop in muggle London, yeah.” he scratched the back of his neck, blushing a little.

“And tell me, what's she like? Big tits? Big ass?” Fred whispered pushing his shoulder a bit.

“Big tit- Fred what the hell?” he scolded at his twin brother.

“Boys behave we have an announcement!” Ron said clapping his hands drawing everybody’s attention on him and Hermione.

“I’m pregnant.” Hermione said with a big smile on her face.

“(Y/n), how did you know..” George whispered to himself while clapping his hands at the happy couple.

“Were you talking to me?” asked Fred smirking, acting like he didn’t heard George’s exact words.

**

It was Monday morning and it was also (Y/n)’s day off so she decided to walk around London and look for George’s shop, she wanted to surprise him. It took her almost the whole morning but she hadn’t seen his shop, he told her that outside his shop there were a huge statue that looked like him so it was impossible to miss. It was around noon and she decided to go visit her grandmother and her flower shop. The only thing was that her grandmother was a witch and her flower shop was in Diagon Alley so she made her way through the Leaky Cauldron and entered Diagon Alley. It has been a while since she was in the wizard world but she knew exactly how to act. Just around the corner she spotted an unfamiliar shop.

Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

The moment she saw the statue she instantly froze. She recognised it and the shop was exactly like George described it. She decided to enter and look around.

The inside of the shop was simply beautiful, so full of colours and people and she was simply enchanted. She spotted a familiar tall ginger man and she made her way to him.

“George?” she tapped his shoulder.

“Wrong one, love. I’m Fred.” he said turning around to greet her. She smiled at him as she instantly recognised him as George’s twin brother.

“And you are?” he raised his eyebrows.

“(Y/n), I’m (Y/n).” she reached out to him.

“Oooh” Fred said with a cheeky grin. “(Y/n)’s flawless flowers, right?” he squeezed her hand.

“Oì, stop flirting with our costumers and come to h-“ he froze. He was panicking when he saw her. And now what? What is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to say?

“(Y/n) hi, w-what are you doing here?” his palms were sweating so hard he hoped you wouldn’t notice.

“Your shop is literally magical.” she ignored his questions as she giggled looking around George’s shop. “My grandmother is a witch, she owns a flower shop here in Diagon Alley, so here I am.” she said raising her hands.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” he was really sorry because he really like her, he didn’t know if he liked her as a friend or more but he sure enjoyed her company.

“Oh it’s okay, I can imagine it’s not easy telling someone you’re a wizard” her laugh was lovely.

“So, can I have the honor of showing you around the store?” he asked her extending his arm which she gladly accepted.

“Y/n guess what... Hermione’s pregnant.” he said super excited.

“I told you!” she said jumping a little making George smile like a five years old.

George turned around to his brother who was looking at them smiling. Fred knew his brother and he knew that George fell for her, even before George himself knew that.

note: I’m thinking of making this a mini series, divide it into three maybe four parts (reader meeting the Weasleys and maybe add some smut lol). Let me know if you liked it and if you want me to continue it.

[comfortwriting]

Showered in lust - G.W

Masterlist, Posting Schedule, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Requested/About: Ron lies to George, telling him that he saw Y/N and Fred kissing, to get back at him for a prank. George gets mad and confronts his girlfriend, Ron realises what he’s done and comes clean to his brother. After patching things up, Y/N and George have shower sex the next morning. 

A/N: I know that showers aren’t mentioned in the books or shown in the movies so I’ve placed a shower room within the dorms lol, forgive me. 

Warnings: 18+, rough unprotected shower sex, squirting, swearing, hair pulling,

“Ron, calm down it was just a prank” you sighed, trying to read. 

Ron, your boyfriends little brother, wasn’t having it at all. He paced up and down the library, his eyebrows scrunched together and his lips forming into a pout. 

“It wasn’t just a prank to me, Y/N. Bloody rotten what he did.” Ron hissed at you.

You shut your book and stared at him, wanting to try and calm him down but not wanting to wind him up even more. 

“Look, how about you-”

“I don’t know why I bother talking to you, you’re just as bad as him” Ron stormed off, his hands buried in his pockets. 

Sighing, you ran your hand through your hair and stayed sitting in your chair, opening your book and continued to read.

Fred and George had their elbows deep in plans for their joke shop, writing and drawing up future products in the empty and cosy common room. 

Ron full of rage and an idea tingling at his finger tips, approached his brothers quietly. 

“George, can I have a word” Ron asked, puffing out his chest. 

Fred looked at his younger brother and laughed “spit it out, still shaking in your boots?” 

Ron glared at the more confident twin, flashing a sarcastic grin at him.

“alone” Ron added, causing George to stop his planning. 

George nodded at Fred and stood up, following his younger brother out of the portrait hole out into the stairs. 

“I didn’t want to say this in front of Fred, so keep your voice down, alright?” Ron muttered.

George furrowed his eyebrows for a second “spit it out then”

Ron had to stop himself from breaking out in a grin, he pursed his lips and stared at his shoes. 

“your girlfriend has been snogging Fred, it’s why the two of them are always late to lunch.”

George rolled his eyes “no, she just tutors him-“

“Didn’t look like tutoring to me, mate.” Ron lied.

George couldn’t believe his ears, his heart started to race and he felt his stomach churning, anger running through his system. 

You would tutor Fred during your free period together whilst George had extra potions class, he trusted the two of you and didn’t ever suspect you of doing such a thing behind his back, especially with his twin brother.

He tried to walk back into the common room, wanting nothing more than to confront his twin who already had everything he ever wanted, but Ron stopped him, pulling on his jumper. 

“You won’t get an answer from him, just forget I said anything.” 

George shook his head “If I won’t get an answer from Freddie, I’ll get one from Y/N.”

Ron tried to stop George but failed against his strength, he put his head in his hands and went back to find Fred, realising the damage he had done.

Almost falling asleep on the same book you were staring at for hours, you were woken up by your boyfriend. 

“Is it true then?” he asked, his face full of pain and anger. 

You yawned and rubbed your eyes, staring at George, thinking he was messing with you. 

You blew him off “Not now, please Georgie, I’m tired.” 

George’s eyes widened, he towered over you whilst you sunk back in your chair. “So you’re not denying it”

Your head started to pound at his voice and his questioning, you felt like you were back at home having to play 21 questions with your mum when you had a hangover. 

“Denying what?” you asked, becoming impatient. 

George stepped away from you and grimaced, his eyes tearful and his hands now bunched into fists. 

“I thought you were different” he said quietly “you’re just like my ex.”

George stormed out of the library and you allowed him to walk off, you didn’t chase him, you had no idea what had caused him to treat you like this, especially out of nowhere and to compare you to his unfaithful ex who even you couldn’t stand, hurt like nothing you had ever felt before.

You took a moment to process the possible break up and got to your feet, leaving your books behind you pushed past everyone in the way and ran off to the common room, ignoring Fred and Ron trying to get you to talk and going to your dorm. 

“Are you serious?” Fred scolded, glaring at his younger brother. 

Ron paced around the room “I wasn’t thinking, alright! Bloody hell, what have I done...”

“When George finds out-”

George walked through the portrait hole and glared at his brothers “when I find out what? You going to confess then Freddie?” 

George glared and walked towards his brothers, his eyes red and puffy from the crying. 

Ron sighed and shook his head “I lied” he muttered.

George quickly turned his head, his eyes burning holes into his little brother. 

“What?”

Ron swallowed hard, feeling afraid of what George was going to do to. 

“I made it all up because you were being a git, I told you not to-”

George felt even angrier but the guilt started to pull at his heart strings. 

“So a little prank makes it okay for you to attempt to ruin my relationship?” 

Ron stayed silent refused to look George in the eyes, he stared at his shoes and fiddled with his hands. Fred also refused to look at George, he couldn’t believe his own twin would fall for lies about him so easily, especially when the lies involved you. 

“Where is she?” George asked quietly. 

“Crying in her room, mate.” Fred replied, standing up and walking to his dorm, Ron following behind. 

George swallowed hard and swore under his breath, hurrying upstairs to your dorm.

He tried to open the door but failed as you had locked it, he knocked on the door softly.

“Y/N love, please can I come in?”

You ignored him and continued to cry in your tear stained pillow, hiding under your quilt covers and blankets.

George knocked again “please, I’m so sorry.”

You pulled the covers off you and sat up, knowing if you carried on ignoring George he would break down the door with a spell.

You pulled out your wand, muttering and swishing it across the door frame, the door swung open slowly.

George hurried towards you, tears in his eyes and you could see from his hands that he was shaking. He sat on the bed and sneaked his arm around your waist, his other hand holding yours.

“So you finally know the truth then” you croaked, staring at your bare feet.

George nodded, looking at your tear stained face. “Ron told me.”

You nodded but stayed silent, feeling yourself cry again.

George wiped away your falling tears and kissed your cheek. “I am so sorry, for what I said, for how I acted - I should’ve believed you, I just—“

“You panicked, I get it - but I’m nothing like your ex.”

George remembered what he had said and felt his heart sink “I know and I am so sorry for what I said, it isn’t true and I don’t mean it at all.”

You sighed, not wanting to talk about it anymore, if anything you were relieved that the two of you were still together and he finally realised the truth. 

You moved away from his embrace and turned on your side, laying in your bed. 

“Can we spoon?” you asked him shyly, the hours of studying finally caught up with you. 

George smiled softly, thankful that you forgave him and he climbed into bed with you, he sneaked his arm back around you and pulled you into him, engulfing you in his warmth.

“Goodnight darling.” he said softly “I love you”

“I love you too”

Opening your eyes, you could hear running water, with it being the Christmas season and you were the only girl who didn’t go home for the holidays, you knew it could only be George. 

You stripped off your pyjamas, grabbed your long stripy towel and walked out of your dorm room and into the large steamy shower room. You placed your towel on the rail and turned around, George staring at your body, biting his lip whilst he looked you up and down. 

You mirrored him, biting your lip at the sight of his lean body, the water trickling down his abs, following the water droplets your eyes landed on his already erect dick which he was holding at the base with one hand. 

Walking over to him, you attacked his neck with soft kisses, he held you with his other hand and made you look him in the eyes. Inching in for a kiss, you slammed your lips against his, the two of you making out and allowing his tongue to dance with yours. 

George let go of his dick, using his now free hand to massage one of your breasts, his thumb stroking your nipple. You moaned out against his lips and sucked on his tongue, making him groan. Pulling away from the intense kiss, George looked at you hungrily and ran his long fingers down your now wet body, his fingers brushing against your clit. 

“I want you so bad, George.” you breathed out.

George licked his lips “I want you too baby”

George bent you over and playfully spanked you, he slowly spat on his fingers and pushed them inside of you, George slowly pumped his fingers deeply inside of you before switching with the pumping with the ‘come here’ motion. 

You moaned out and held onto the other towel rail next to you head, pushing the other towel out of the way. You moved backwards towards George, his fingers inching even deeper inside of you, looking back you caught a glimpse of George stroking his cock.

George continued to pleasure you, his fingers stroking and massaging you G-Spot and could feel you getting more aroused with each minute that had gone by. 

“Turn around” George said softly, the warm water still running “I want to see you”

George removed his fingers for a moment, doing as you were told, you turned around and slowly lowered yourself to the floor. George got down on his knees, still tugging on his cock and went back to placing his fingers inside of. 

Letting go of his cock, George took hold of your leg and placed it to rest on his shoulder, his two middle finger and ring finger were inside of you, his index finger and thumb pointing down towards your anus. Hooking his two fingers together, keeping them flexed and locked, George applied pressure with his palm against you vulva, stimulating your clit. 

Relaxing against his magic touch, your moans filled the steamy room as you tightened around his fingers, feeling the need to release the building pressure inside of you. 

“George, that feels so fucking good.” 

George looked up at you and smiled “I won’t stop, love, squirt for me.”

Feeling your pussy contract you finally caught up to your orgasm and gave in, the building pressure dissipating as liquid jetted out of you and onto George’s thighs and the bathroom floor. 

George got even more turned on as you let loose all over him, he withdrew his fingers from inside of you, causing more liquid to spill out and gently moved your now shaking leg off his shoulder. 

Unable to get back on your feet just yet, you got on all fours and bent over in front of George, pushing yourself out against him. 

“Want me to fuck you?” he growled, more warm water beaming down on your lower back. 

You nodded and slowly got to your feet, bending over again and holding onto the rail. “Please George, I deserve it after last night.” you teased.

George stroked his cock and started up at your bum. He stood up and brushed his hard cock against your clit and folds, teasing you.

Pushing himself inside of you slowly, you moaned out, adjusting to his size. George’s hands took hold of your waist, he slowly started to fuck you, allowing you to get used to him.

“Fuck” you moaned out “you don’t need to hold back anymore, George.”

George gripped onto you tighter and started to pound you, his hard cock diving deeper and deeper inside of you, filling you up.

Your loud moans and George’s groans filled the shower room, along with the sounds of him slamming against your behind. George released on of his hands from your hips and reached out, grabbing you by the hair, pulling your head back slightly, your back the tiniest bit straighter.

“You like it rough, do you?” He growled, fucking you harder.

“Yes George!”

“You like the feeling of my hard cock slamming into your tight pussy?”

You moaned out even more, almost in tears of pleasure “Yes!”

George picked up his pace and your clinged onto the rail, your knuckles turning white, you were surprised you the rail was still on the wall.

The noise of George pounding into your wet pussy, his groans and your moans was starting to become too much for the both of you, your walls tightened around his cock and a familiar pressure built up again in your lower stomach; George’s cock couldn’t stop twitching inside of you.

“George, I’m going to cum!” You wailed, feeling yourself release once again.

Your cum coated George’s cock and pushed him closer to his own orgasm, he looked down at the mess you made on his cock and released inside of you.

“Fucking hell, Y/N!”

Slowly pulling out, the two of you tried to catch your breaths in the haze of the shower room, George turned the shower dial, changing the flowing water from warm to cool.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to stand up again” you laughed lightly, the steam slowly clearing up.

George laughed and put his arm around you “I’ll get you cleaned up.”

[itsthewritergal]

My lips are sealed - F.W. x reader

This is my first ever long fic! This will probably be about four parts :) 

Warnings - mentions of abortion but nothing in detail, please don’t read if it may trigger you xx 

Part Two 

Part Three

Y/N held the test in a sweaty palm. She never knew how long two minutes could be, she could hear the hustle and bustle of the shop. She paced the staff room floor waiting for the results. She drummed her fingers along her thigh in an attempt to distract her mind. It didn’t work. She knew that the shop was busy but she had to know. Her alarm cut through the tension, quickly grabbing the test. She looked at it in despair.

Positive.

“Y/N I know you’re on your break but we’re swamped” George said walking into the staff room. Y/N quickly hid the test into her bag, wiping the tears off her face

“I’m coming” She said plastering a fake smile onto her face. George gave her a wary look, noticing the way her voice wavered, she walked past him quickly.

George kept a watchful eye on Y/N for the rest of the day, something was wrong. He just didn’t know what, Y/N was usually good at telling the twins when something was going on, which was why George was so confused why Y/N wasn’t saying anything.

----

Fred closed the shop door with a content sigh and a grin on his face,

“Well that was a good day! Anyone wanting drinks? I’ll get the first round” He suggested raising an eyebrow at both George and Y/N knowing that they almost never turn down an opportunity to go drinking

“Yeah sounds good” George grinned “Y/N?” He asked turning his attention to the girl who sat behind the till in her own little world, paying no attention to the conversation “Y/N” He said again, making her jolt her head up towards him

“What?” She asked confused, not realising she had been ignoring them both “Drinks?” Fred said with a grin

“Yeah sure” She said with a forced smile.

“Perfect! You two go, I’ll meet you there in a moment, I’ve just got to grab my coat” Fred grinned ushering George and Y/N out of the shop.

They sat in their usual booth in the corner of the crowded pub. Y/N still just as distracted as she was in the shop, “What’s going on?” George asked drawing Y/N’s attention away from picking at the nail polish on her fingers

“Nothing” She said quietly “I’m just super tired” She lied easily, George didn’t pick up on it.

Fred slid himself in next to George, placing their drinks down on the table.

“Drink up” He smiled

Y/N lifted the drink to her lips but with one sip she felt herself about to throw up. Climbing out of the booth she ran towards the toilets.

Y/N sat on the bathroom floor her head over the toilet. She let herself cry for a few moments, suddenly feeling completely alone. She heard a knock on the door, it was muffled.

“I’ll be out in a second” she said picking herself up off the floor, splashing some water on her face, there was yet another knock. With a huff she unlocked the door, she was greeted with a concerned looked George.

“You okay?” He asked,

“Yeah I’m fine, I think it’s just a bug. I’m going to go home” She said with a smile

“Call me if you need anything” he said giving her a comforting hug.

George made his way back to the table once Y/N had walked out of the pub.

“What’s wrong with her?” Fred asked

“Think she’s coming down with something”

“That’s not good” Fred said with a sad look “I’ll go see her tomorrow and check on her” He promised.

----

George was late, which left Y/N and Fred to manage the shop alone. It was a Monday morning which meant that nobody was in Diagon Ally, leaving both Y/N and Fred sitting behind the till. Fred was in the middle of telling Y/N all about the new products that he was working on. Y/N didn’t noticed how he got distracted by her and fumbled over his words every now and then.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard you laugh” He said quietly

“We haven’t exactly had much time to ourselves recently” She said with a sad smile

“Not since the party” Fred said. Y/N refused to meet his eye, she had attempted to push that night out of her head “I’m sorry that I haven’t spoken about it” he added

“it’s fine Freddie” She dismissed, not wanting to admit that it meant a lot to her

“It was a drunken mistake” He started “I think we should just move on and not talk about it” He said with a wary smile, not wanting to let on that he in fact wanted to do the exact opposite

“Yeah I suppose that would be best” Y/N smiled sadly, knowing that the last thing she wanted to do was forget about it.  

“You know I-”

“Morning morning!” George cut Fred off with a shout “Anyone fancy coffee?” He asked

“Not for me” Y/N said the sick feeling still evident in her stomach

“You feeling ok? When do you ever turn down coffee?” Fred laughed

“I think I’m still feeling a bit off from yesterday” She lied

“If you’re coming down with something you really should go home” Fred said with a concerned look

“I’m not, I think I just ate something dodgy” She said. Fred opened his mouth to speak when her phone cut through the shop “Sorry I’ve got to get this” She apologised walking a little away from the counter as she answered the phone.

“Hi is that Y/N Y/L/N?” The lady said 

“Yeah it is” She answered

“It’s Lorraine from St Mungo’s, we can fit you in on Thursday, if you are still interested” she said, her tone was kind and it made Y/N feel at home

“What time?” She asked

“11, Is that okay?”

“I’ll be there” Y/N confirmed.

Y/N made her way back towards the twins who looked at her in confusion. She sat herself down without another word. Knowing that she didn’t want them to start grilling her with questions. Y/N decided to talk to George separately later, she didn’t want to get Fred involved.

-----

George was restocking the love potions carefully when Y/N tapped him on the shoulder.

“I need to ask you something” she said

“What’s up?” He asked turning to face her

“I need to take Thursday off” She said quietly not wanting to draw Fred’s attention

“Is everything okay?” George asked noticing how she picked at her nail varnish

“Yeah I just have an appointment” She said unsure of what else to say

“I’m sure me and Fred will manage” George grinned slightly, turning back to the potions. “Although as thanks for being so understanding you can restock these” He grinned thrusting the box into her hands. With a laugh Y/N took over.

-----

The shop was quiet all day, yet Y/N kept herself busy. She knew the moment she stopped she would think, and she didn’t want to think about anything. She had managed to avoid both the twins most of the day, she just wasn’t feeling up to being sociable. At the end of her shift she grabbed her bag and her coat and made her way towards the door.

George pulled Y/N aside just as she was making her way outside “Is everything ok?” He asked, looking her up and down with a concerning eye

“Yes of course it is” She smiled “Why do you ask?” She asked nervously

“I had a phone call from St Mungo’s, you had the shop phone as you’re secondary number” He explained “They wanted to confirm your appointment for Thursday” He said

“They didn’t tell you what it was did they?” She asked quickly panic beginning to rise up 

“No, but it sounded serious” George said “I’m your friend. What’s going on” he asked

“It’s just a check up” She lied

“Didn’t sound like it” he said “I’m worried about you”

Y/N studied her shoes closely, George said her name once more, she lifted her head up and looked at George

“I’m pregnant” She said quietly holding his gaze

“Oh Y/N” he sighed “Are you-” he trailed off unsure of whether to ask the question which was on his lips.

“Yeah I am” She answered knowing exactly what he was going to say

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked,

“No I’ll be okay” She smiled slightly  “just please don’t tell anyone” She added

“I promise, my lips are sealed” George said with a sad smile

[fallin-4-ya]

but beautiful

But Beautiful

cedric diggory x malfoy!reader

summary: life wasn’t particularly easy being the older sister of draco malfoy, but a certain boy from hufflepuff had the power to make all her troubles melt away.

warnings: slight house shaming, brief mention of disappointed parents & i think that's it! non-voldy au! (gif is not mine, credit to owner)

words: 1.6k

part i, part ii, part iii

‘And you have to believe me when I tell you that no one could ever be as beautiful as you are at this very moment, because I could never want anyone more than I want you right now.’ -Mariella Muffarotto

There was something to be said about being a Malfoy, something y/n could not understand. With an uncommonly kind heart and an unprejudiced view on life, she saw the wizarding world as nothing but beautiful.

September 1st, 1989

Y/n walked nervously onto platform nine and three quarters with her mother, Narcissa, on one side and her father, Lucius, on the other. She looked up with pleading eyes at her parents, almost as if asking if she had to go. Her mother put her hand on her shoulder, ‘My dear, not to worry. You’ll make so many friends before you know it.’

‘Yes, y/n, your mother is right. But, don't go making friends with the wrong sort.’ Her father said with half a grin and half disgust. She shook her head, acknowledging his words. Y/n hugged her parents goodbye and headed up to the train, walking through to see most of the compartments as full. Almost at the end of the train she spotted a compartment that had two very similar looking boys who seemed nice enough. But what she didn't know is that once she opened that door, she would become best friends with two future trouble makers at Hogwarts. So, opening the door hesitantly she peeked inside

‘Hi, um, is this one full?’ Y/n stared at the two tall identical, redhead boys looking up at her.

‘Not at all.’ Said the one closest to the compartment door. ‘I’m Fred, by the way. Fred Weasley! And this is my brother George.’ He pointed to the by next to him, who smiled and sent her a wave.

‘Thanks.’ She sat down across the two. They gave her a quizzical look as she stared down at her hands, twiddling with her thumbs. The nervous energy was definitely kicking in and her mind fumbled into a much of anxiety. Her thoughts, though, were interrupted who she assumed to be Fred.

‘And you are?’

‘Oh! I’m y/n, y/n Malfoy.’ said the girl, smiling awkwardly at the two of them. ‘Sorry, guess I’m a bit nervous.’

Fred chuckled, ‘Well, not to worry y/n. This is our first year too, and with any luck will be sorted into Gryffindor.’ He smiled proudly, elbowing George.

‘Yeah, the whole lot of our family is Gryffindor. Sure, it will be the same for us.’ George pipped up. ‘What house are you hoping for?’

Y/n thought timidly to herself before answering the simple, yet complicated question. ‘Well, if I hope to live another day, then Slytherin. But I’d be happy in any house. Whatever the hat thinks is right for me.’

‘And why’s that, y/n?’ Fred asked.

‘My whole family is Slytherin. You know the type of purebloods who believe in all of the superiority nonsense. The Malfoys have been part of Slytherin house for centuries, so I guess I wouldn’t want to be a disappointment.’ She shrugged.

‘Oh.’ Whispered George knowingly, sending his brother a look. ‘Don’t get too caught up in it, y/n. We know tons of witches and wizards who were in your shoes and they all are just fine. Regardless of what house they got sorted into!’ He cooed reassuringly.

‘Anyways, Hogwarts isn’t about houses and schoolwork and nonsense like that. It’s about having fun.’ Fred said with a smirk, giving y/n a wink.

‘Good thing for both of you, I love nothing more than a bit of fun.’

The train arrived to the Hogsmeade station even more quickly than expected, or perhaps it was because Fred, George and y/n were having too much fun to realize the time passing by. The entered the Great Hall in awe because y/n’s mother and father had never told her how magnificent it really was. Her, the twins and the rest of the first-year students anxiously made their way up to the front of the room, passing older students as they went along. There stood Professor McGonagall, with a list of names and a big, old hat. She began reading off names:

‘Diggory, Cedric!’

‘Jordan, Lee!’

‘Johnson, Angelina!’

Then what seemed like a hundred names Professor McGonagall bellowed out, ‘Malfoy, Y/n!’

Y/n walked up to the wooden stool with shaky hands. Of course, she had wanted to be put in Slytherin to make her family proud, but a part of her felt like she just didn’t belong. Professor McGonagall placed the sorting hat on her head gently and took a step back.

‘Hm, another Malfoy,’ the sorting hat started. ‘Much potential. Talented, no doubt. A want to please and make others happy. Courage and loyalty, but where to put you?’ Better be, Hufflepuff.’

Y/n heart dropped to the floor, yet soared at the same time. She could not comprehend the emotion she was feelings, lying somewhere between overjoyed and worried. However, a smile was plastered onto her face as she made her way to sit down at the table adorned in yellow and black.

Y/n took a set across a boy with light brown hair who had been sorted into Hufflepuff not five minutes before she did. He grinned at her. Y/n looked into gray eyes, holding warmth and promise. He extended his hand to meet hers, ‘Hi! I’m Cedric Diggory!’

Y/n took his hand and shook it, ‘I’m y/n Malfoy!’

The boy who she now knew as Cedric smiled at her, with rosy cheeks. ‘I can tell were going to be great friends!’

And great friends they did become.

The days turned to weeks, the weeks turned to months. Months became seasons and seasons blossomed to years. Y/n’s friendship with both the Weasley twins and Cedric Diggory were planted into little trees in which her love for Hogwarts sprouted. Two years had passed since y/n Malfoy was sorted into Hufflepuff, though it would be lying to say she didn’t get quite the earful from her parents about it.

(‘Hufflepuff!’ Lucius spat. ‘A Malfoy, in Hufflepuff. You’re an embarrassment, a disgrace!’

Her little brother giggled in the background at her great misfortune, but y/n could only be mad at one person at a time. ‘It’s not like it’s my fault!’ she hissed back, ‘It’s the bloody hat. If it’s that much of problem why don’t you take it up with the inanimate object!’)

But still, she lived. And most importantly she was happy. Y/n not only had the two most fun-loving pranksters glued to one side of her hip, but she had a kind, sweet, adorable Hufflepuff boy glued to the other. Two years had flown by and y/n’s brother, Draco, finally joined her at school. She wasn’t excited per say, they had hardly enjoyed each other’s company. Draco was his sister’s polar opposite, not to mention the constant teasing she endured from him.

Yet still, y/n accepted fate as a bull was sent into a china cabinet, simply waiting for hell to break loose. She sat at the Hufflepuff table next to Cedric as the group of first years gathered into the Great Hall. One by one, each of the new students walked up to the hat, awaiting to be sorted.

‘Malfoy, Draco!’ Professor McGonagall’s voice roared.

Cedric nudged y/n, ‘Gather that’s your brother.’

‘Yep.’ She answered simply popping the p. ‘What gave it away? The blonde hair or the last name?’ She said with a smirk.

Draco approached the sorting hat with a smug grin smeared on his face. The hat hadn’t been on his head a second before it bellowed out Slytherin.

‘Are you joking? The bloody hat barely touched him!’ y/n nearly shouted. Cedric stifled a laugh, earning him an elbow from y/n. ‘Yeah, Ced. Hysterical that my dumb brother got into my family’s dumb house while I’m sat here looking like a bloody bumblebee.’

This only sent Cedric’s head back, laughing at her. (‘You really think we look like bumblebees, y/n?’) He watched as Draco stuck his tongue out at his older sister, who in return rolled her eyes at him.

After the feast, y/n was approached by Fred and George who practically ran to meet her.

‘So now what?’ Fred said quickly.

Y/n stopped and shrugged her shoulders, ‘Now, Draco become the favorite child.’

‘The favorite child, yeah? Better him than you, I’ll say.’ George said with a hint of sarcasm, making her smile.

‘Reckon you’re right, Georgie. Besides who needs a dumb brother, when I already got the two of you already driving me crazy.’ She said ruffling both of the twin’s hair. ‘Meet you guys in the morning!’ Y/n shouted as she ran back to meet the rest of her house, joining them in the common room.

Y/n walked into a busy common room, all the students catching up with one another after summer holiday. She then spotted Cedric by the velvet sofas, as if he was waiting for her. She couldn’t remember in this moment if his eyes had always been that beautiful or if his cheeks were ever that soft. Perhaps it was the extra inches he grew over the summer or perhaps the way he finally learned how to style his hair. But whatever it was, it did not last long because y/n quickly chased away those thoughts and sat next to her friend.

‘Whatcha up to, Ced?’ y/n questioned taking a seat next him.

‘Can I ask you something, y/n?’ Cedric said suddenly, y/n nodded allowing permission for him to carry on. ‘Why do you and Draco not get along?’

She drew back slightly, Cedric was not one to ask very personal questions. He had a flare for boundaries and always knew exactly where to draw the line, especially when it came to family. She couldn’t help but to feel that he deserved an answer after being such a fierce friend over the past few years.

Y/n swallowed hard, truly thinking about how to answer him. There had been no true animosity towards the siblings, no hate or anything of the sort. They just simply didn’t get along. She sighed, ‘Not sure, guess we’re just oil and water. We’ve never been particularly fond of each other, but I think that’s because we’re both so different. Of course, I love him. But he’s also a bit of a prick, like, all the time.’

Cedric laughed softly at her words, ‘That’s a pretty good reason not to get along with someone.’

He smiled at her. Butterflies erupted from y/n’s tummy, making their way up to her throat. Surely his smile had never been that inviting or warm or beautiful. And before she could stop herself words flowed from her tongue like a waterfall, ‘We’ll always get along, right Ced?’ she said softly.

‘Of course, y/n. You know, as long as I’m not being a prick.’ He smiled and winked at her, leaving her heart more flustered than ever.

(a/n: thank you for reading!, this is part one of three, so let me know if you would like to be added to this taglist! i hope u enjoyed! sending love and positive vibes! xo-mari)

[writesowhatnext]

game, set, match // oliver wood

Summary: Slytherin!reader is a complete flirt. Oliver Wood hates it; he promises. He’s sure.

Request: heyyyy! how about oliver wood with a very flirty slytherin!reader, where she's the seeker in the slytherin team? thanks!

A/N: I loved this request oml but also Y/L/N is your last name bc quidditch... sorry this took me so long to write bc this is like my dream request so I don’t know why I struggled so much but I really hope you like it

Reader: female, Slytherin

Warnings: flirting, innuendo, suggestive themes, making out

“We’re gonna train earlier, harder and longer,” Oliver said, completely unaware of the eye rolls of his teammates. He’d never been too good at noticing things like that, especially when his mind was so preoccupied with quidditch plays and quidditch teams and how he could get out of Potions faster to practice for quidditch.

You were quite observant, though, and even from across the courtyard, the Gryffindor captain caught your eye. Everyone had always said he was an excellent captain – obsessed, mind you, but brilliant all the same - but no one warned you about how handsome he’d be. You watched with poorly disguised intrigue as his face soured when he spotted Marcus Flint approach, a gaggle of green-cloaked students trailing behind him across the stone slabs.

“What?” Oliver huffed, scowling. “I don’t believe it.”

You couldn’t help but smile as his frowned deepened. You and Oliver Wood did not know each other: you weren’t in the same circles and you didn’t often stoop low enough to associate with Gryffindors, but his cute pout and angry brows made you rethink that rule of yours.

“Where do you think you’re going, Flint?”

Flint grinned; either he didn’t sense Oliver’s anger, or he didn’t care. Your money was well placed on the latter.

“Quidditch practice.”

Both teams edged closer to each other, each captains’ dull irritation turning the air stale. You regarded the tension with a rather amused grin.

“I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today.”

“Easy, Wood,” Flint said, his tone mocking. Oliver ground his teeth together. “I’ve got a note.”

Oliver snatched the scroll from his hands, peeling it open. His eyes scanned the words quickly, Fred looming over his shoulder to get a better look. You listened with equal parts smugness and intrigue as he read it out, his accent like music to your ears.

“I, Professor Severus Snape,” he said, his annoyance growing by the second. “Hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practice today owing to the need to train their new seeker.”

His eyes darted to Flint’s.

“You’ve got a new seeker,” he said dryly. “Who?”

The sea of green cloaks parted and you stepped out, your head tilted to the side slightly as you smiled at him.

“Hi,” you said lightly, wiggling the fingers of your free hand at him, the other clutched loosely around your broom.

You smirked as Oliver’s brows drew down, his team simultaneously sizing you up behind him. He recognised your face from Charms, or perhaps Defence Against the Dark Arts, he wasn’t sure. He tended to avoid Slytherins and looking at your teasing expression, he realised why.

“You’re the new seeker?” he asked, unable and unwilling to hide the incredulity of his tone. His eyes trailed over your face critically.

“Yes,” you said lazily, more amused than insulted. “Seems I’ve got a knack for it.”

“Right.”

“If I was more sensitive, I’d be offended, Wood,” you said slowly, wetting your lips. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

As you followed Flint towards the quidditch pitch, a renewed sense of excitement flooded through you. Sure, being on the quidditch team would be fun anyway, but now you had Oliver Wood to play with and so, the world seemed just that much brighter. You were more than pleased when you glanced back to see the whole Gryffindor team watching after you. With a wink and a wave, you disappeared down the hallway towards the pitch, grinning at the frown pulling at Wood’s brows.

“Blimey,” Fred said as they returned back to the common room, tails between their legs. “That new seeker’s definitely got the hots for you, Wood.”

“Did you see that wink?” George snorted. “She’s got balls, I’ll give her that.”

“What?” Oliver said shortly, stopping just before the Fat Lady’s portrait. He told himself that he was irritated about not being able to practice, but he couldn’t ignore the strange frustration he felt at hearing Fred and George speak about you as if they were impressed.

“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” George said, rolling his eyes as he dipped through the portrait hole.

“She was eyeing you up the whole time.”

“What are you two on about?”

Fred and George shared a look as Wood retreated to his dorm, his thoughts plagued by your silly little wave and cocky little grin, his cheeks pink.

He found himself noticing you everywhere after that; a strange turn of events for him given his usual inobservance. At first, it was in Potions, listening to you laugh across the classroom, and then after that, he caught your eye in the Great Hall and yet again, you shot him a wink that had him frowning. He even met you waiting for the same staircase.

“Morning, Wood,” you said with that same teasing smile. He pursed his lips together, exhaling sharply out of his nose.

“Morning,” he said reluctantly, shuffling from one foot to the other. You stood there in silence for a moment, shoulder to shoulder as the staircase swung around.

“Are you a snitch?” you said conversationally, biting your cheek. You turned to face him, watching his expression contort in confusion.

“Am I a-“

“Because you’re quite the catch.”

He watched you walk leisurely up the stairs with his mouth open and his brows knitted together. Were you hitting on him? He swallowed, clearing his throat as a first-year thundered past him to reach the stairs before they moved again. He followed them up, feeling somewhat of a first-year again himself, before he huffed and annoyance ran through him at your audacity. Who exactly did you think you were?

He got his answer next time he saw you on the quidditch pitch. You were flirting, apparently. Gryffindor vs Slytherin games were always a struggle; it was hard to beat a good team as it was, but beating a good team that also cheated felt next to impossible. It didn’t help at all that you were so distracting as you hovered near him by the goalposts, watching for the snitch.

“You’re looking rather dashing today, Wood,” you said, balancing your elbows on the broom to rest your chin against your hand.

He rolled his eyes at your words, blushing slightly as he eyed your laidback position.

“And I know a fantastic way to make it up to you when you lose,” you said, amusement ringing through your tone.

“Don’t you have a job to do, Y/L/N?” he asked, feigning irritation. You grinned, pleasantly surprised that he even knew your name.

“I do, actually,” you replied softly. “I’m a hell of a seeker, you know. And I think you might be the one I’m looking for.”

His head shot up, his shocked eyes meeting your ever-present smirk.

“What exactly are you trying-“ he began, desperately trying to hide the way your words rattled him.

“Sorry, Wood, gotta run. Apparently, I have a job to do. I’ll definitely catch you later.”

You shot after the snitch towards the Ravenclaw stand, leaving Wood thoroughly confused in your wake, a strange stirring in his chest.

Gryffindor lost that game.

Everyone could tell that Wood was more irritated than usual at the loss, but nobody knew that it was because you were right and that he hated that you were right. It irked him that you were a hell of a seeker. It irked him that you were so cocky. It irked him that you flirted with him so brazenly. More than anything, it irked him that he found himself undeniably and unfortunately attracted to you.

His team could guess, though, the link between your flirty remarks and Oliver’s recently extra-aggravated mood. The twins specifically were fans of seeing Wood so flustered, and because of a girl no less. What they weren’t particular fans of was losing and Wood’s distracted state seemed to be the main contributor to Gryffindors recent streak.

“Okay, Wood,” Fred said, sitting on one side of him as George sat on the other. Never a good sign, Oliver thought.

“We need to talk.”

The Transfiguration class was filling up; they wouldn’t have long to talk some sense into their captain before McGonagall arrived.

“About?”

“The Slytherin.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows, busying himself with shuffling his parchment and trying not to let his feelings leak onto his face.

“Which Slytherin?” he replied, his words deliberate.

“You hear that George?” Fred snorted. “Which Slytherin, he says.”

“Oh, just the Slytherin that you’ve been flirting with for the past three weeks.”

“That Slytherin.”

“I’m sure you remember her.”

“She’s the one flirting with me!” Wood snapped loudly, defensively, drawing the attention of some Ravenclaws from the row next to him.

“So, you do know who we’re on about,” George said smugly, tilting his head to the side.

“Very well, it appears,” Fred nodded, smirking.

Oliver rolled his eyes and groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“What of it?” he said, his voice strained.

“You need to talk to her,” George said.

“Or tell her to stop,” Fred continued.

“Anything so we can start winning again.”

“You could hex her…”

“Or snog her…”

“Maybe you could just shag her in the broom-“

“Alright, alright,” Oliver said, his eyes narrowed as he scowled, unable to keep his cheeks from blushing. “You’ve made your point.”

“Excellent,” they said with matching grins as they walked over to their seats across the room, pushing each other on the way.

Even though Transfiguration was already ruined for the day, Wood was pleased that that particular conversation was over with. He didn’t think there was anyone he wanted to talk about you less with than the twins with their ruthless taunting. There was no way he’d be able to keep his thoughts from straying to you during class, but at least with Professor McGonagall teaching, his daydreaming would be kept to a minimum. The last thing he needed was the wrath of McGonagall; his recent performance in Quidditch was not helping him stay in her good books as it was. She hadn’t arrived yet, though, and so he let himself wallow a little bit, his head falling pitifully into his hands.

The first poke he felt at his shoulder he ignored, writing it off as an accident. The second had him sitting up straighter. The third time, he tutted, swearing quietly under his breath before he whipped around to see you, of all people, sat behind him. His eyes went wide at the sight of you and all of his frustration frustratingly melted into a puddle of nerves.

“Yes?” he asked, trying not to show it under your steady gaze. “Can I help you?”

“Well,” you said, your smile immediately filling him with regret at his word choice. “There’s a lot of ways you can help me…”

You trailed off as his expression turned guarded and your lips twitched. You leant forward onto your elbows, pleased when he didn’t recoil at the close proximity of your faces.

“I just wanted to say hi, though, for now.”

Oliver frowned; his suspicion obvious.

“…Hello, then,” he said hesitantly, his sweet little scowl making its way back onto his face. Surely you had to have some sort of remark planned, ready to fluster him once again.

“You seem rather stressed today.”

Oliver paused again before responding, not sure how to process your first proper conversation. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to share his current woes with you, especially given you were the cause, but your eyes seemed sincere for once and that incessant smirk seemed a little less hostile this close.

“I’m not everyone’s favourite person at the minute.”

“Ah,” you said, nodding knowingly. “Because of quidditch.”

He hadn’t expected you to be so blunt, but he was pleasantly surprised by it.

“Seems I’m a bit distracted.” He said, shocked by his own boldness.

His words hung in the air between you for a moment and he watched with wary interest as a smile lifted at your cheeks. He was struck, really, that he’d never seen you smile properly before. You had an excellent smirk and you portrayed vague amusement like an expert, but the way your eyes were crinkling had him doing the same. Your flirty remarks died on your tongue at the way he grinned at you, and you found yourself feeling more and more like a silly little school girl by the second. Flirting with him had started out as a bit of fun, especially when you caught his irritated glances and flushed expression, but by the way your stomach had turned into butterfly house, it was suddenly something else entirely, something actually quite nerve-wracking.

“I can give you a tip if you like,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. “An old wives’ tale about brooms. Might help you with your quidditch playing.”

He pursed his lips, enjoying talking to you more than he’d have liked. He doubted, looking at your face, that what you were about to say would help him, but he didn’t really care.

“Go on, then.”

Your smirk returned, but you were more nervous to deliver your line than you ever had been, hopefully, he didn’t notice.

“Don’t you think broomsticks have it bad?”

He frowned.

“They have to carry someone around all day, constantly destroyed by bludgers-“

“Is this going somewhere?” Oliver asked almost playfully, his brow raised. You shushed him, pushing his shoulder gently in scolding, an oddly informal gesture for the two of you.

“So, what they say is: save a broom, you know; just ride a quidditch play-“

“Ms Y/L/N.”

Your blood ran cold as Oliver turned around, Professor McGonagall somehow appearing right in front of him.

“Perhaps it would be a good idea to save your quidditch tips for outside the classroom, hm?”

Oliver realised with a healthy amount of surprise that, for the first time since meeting you, you were nervous, embarrassed even. Despite the scolding from McGonagall and the fact that this would land him even further away from her good graces, he couldn’t help but smile at your softness.

“Of course, Professor,” you replied, your voice uncharacteristically small. He bit his lip as he faced the front, struggling to contain his grin and struggling to ignore the funny feeling in his chest at seeing a different side of you.

Oliver was more stunned than anybody at how much he enjoyed your company. What surprised him the most, though, was how much he needed to see you again. How much your face plagued his thoughts.

“Oi, Y/N!” he yelled across the quidditch pitch, jogging over to you. He didn’t have a plan, per se, as you turned around and grinned, watching him stride towards you in his school robes. The closer he got to you and your teammates, all dressed in dark green, the more flustered he felt and he cursed you for a second for being so attractive in the sunlight.

“You alright, Wood?” you asked, folding your arms over one another and wetting your lips.

“Good, yes, yeah, you?” he said, slightly breathless from his run. You pursed your lips to contain your laughter at his flushed face.

“I’m fine,” you said, tilting your head to the side quizzically, an unspoken question.

“Can I- uh- borrow you?” he said, swallowing the tightness in his throat. “Alone.”

You turned to Flint with a raised eyebrow, your jaw clenched to suppress your smile.

“Only be a few minutes,” Oliver said, trying to appeal to Flint’s non-existent better nature.

“Please?” you said, beaming when Flint rolled his eyes, nodding reluctantly.

“What’s up, then, Wood?” you said, walking away from your teammates, your shoulders almost touching.

“Uh,” he said. What was up? What was he doing? Why didn’t he have a plan?

Looking at your amused expression and bright eyes, he floundered, not at all sure of what he was doing. He let out an uneasy chuckle when you waved your hands in front of his face.

“You seem… distracted,” you said, echoing his words from before, quietly pleased when he smiled.

“I am, actually,” he said, nodding with newfound confidence. “You’re very distracting.”

He hummed.

“All this flirting is awful for my quidditch performance, you see. Just can’t stop thinking about you.”

You paused, pulling your top lip between your teeth.

“Is that right?” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up as you raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, it is,” he said, stepping closer to you, his hands hovering just over your hips. “I suppose there’s only one thing to do about it.”

“Oh?” you said, swallowing apprehensively as he leant towards you. He smirked.

“You’re looking a bit nervous there, Y/N.”

“Me? Never, I-“

Before you could finish your unconvincing protest, you were interrupted by his lips on yours. Your stomach flipped at the feeling, but only a second passed before he pulled away.

His expression was panicked as he looked at you, your faces so close you felt his breath on your face.

“Oh,” you said softly, reaching your hands up to play with the lapels of his robes. “I always knew you were a keeper.”

He scoffed, throwing his head back and barking a laugh.

“Shut up,” he said, tilting his head to kiss you again, this time properly.

harry potter tag list:

@creator-appreciator​​ @decadentwastelandtrash @loveisblindness​​ @xinyourdreamsx​​ @brainlesspasta​​ @hariosborn​​ @staringmoony​​ @rexorangecouny​​ @alittletoomanyobsessions​​ @peachesandpinks​​ @yuptha-tsme​​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​​ @dreamer821​​ @iprobablyshipit91​​ @in-slytherin-we-trust​​ @haphazardhufflepuff​​ @princesof-theuniverse​​ @whovianayesha​​ @msmimimerton​​ @extra-trash77​​ @potterverseimagine​​ @my-own-mindpalace​​ @sxrensxngwrites​​ @damonwhitlock​​ @susceptible-but-siriusexual​

[desiredmalfoy]

Champagne Problems (G.W. x Reader)

House: Slytherin 

Universe: Not Canon (I think by now its safe to say I don’t like to follow canon much in my writing )

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader 

TW: Talks about blood purity. Controlling Parents

Word Count: 3.5 K

Get ready for some angst! Based loosely on Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift because I got inspiration for it while listening to this song. It turned out way longer then I expected. Sorry if there is any mistakes, I haven’t fully edited it. Enjoy!

Note: I aged up Draco, Pansy & Blaise to be the same age as the reader and George.

(The picture above was made by me. I tried to make the handwriting seem a bit messy on purpose) Plus George would be the one to draw doodles on a note.)

One for the money, two for the show. I never was ready, so I watch you go

Growing up in a rich pure blood family, (y/n) knew what was always expected of her. She was to know her place at all times. Whether that meant knowing she was better then half-bloods and muggle-borns. You are to never be seen with their kind darling her mother would tell her since she was very little. She was also raised to not go against her parents wishes. Sit straight and make sure you always look your best her mother had ingrained in her brain. Ever since she was a little girl her mother had fretted over her looks and manners. If you want a good husband you must be your best darling. 

She was to only be friends with the children of other pure-blood families. Make strategic friendship and make sure that she kept those who benefited her the most close. Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy surprisingly had become close friends of hers. They aren’t a group of friends who share their deepest secrets but they brought comfort to each other. They knew what the other was going through as they were all basically destined for the same fate. To keep their pure-blood lineage strong. 

Her future was set in stone before she could even talk. She was to marry someone of her same blood status and continue their bloodline. She was never given the option to choose who she wanted to love. She was expected to give up her life. And that’s exactly what she did as she gave up on the only man she’s loved. George Weasley. 

She had met George at Hogwarts back when they were both students. He was in the same year as her. She had heard of him, I mean who had not with the way him and Fred were infamous with their prank pulling. Life was cruel at times and she wondered if she was being punished in a way when she fell for him.

Bustling crowds or silent sleepers. You're not sure which is worse

She shared a dorm with Pansy for her final year. They had a very complicated friendship. They cared about each other and they would often share their thoughts with each other. Pansy’s parents expected the same out of her. It was nice to have another person who understood what she was going through. Although she knew to never share her deepest secrets with Pansy, she was an opportunist who would use anything against her in the end. Her and Pansy often spoke on who they thought their parents were thinking of marrying them off to. Being a part of the sacred 28 meant that there was a decent sized list of options of who they’d be married off to. It was such a twisted conversation for two young girls to be having. Childhood and lives continuously being controlled by others. 

“I wouldn’t mind Adrian Pucey”, Pansy said from her desk as she continued to write her DADA homework. “Or even Draco or Blaise.”

“Really?” (Y/N) responded all the way from her bed. She was looking for her shoes as she was about to go out for one of her nightly walks around the school. 

“Yeah. I heard he’s still single.”

“What about you”, Pansy questioned with an eyebrow raise as she dropped her quill and turned to face (y/n). 

“Not Marcus Flint that's for sure. Remember how creepy he was during the Yule Ball last year”, (y/n) laughed with an eye roll. 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t stop trying to touch your waist.”

“Anyway, enough about Flint. I’m going to go for my nightly walk. Do you want to go Pansy?”

“Nope. I have to finish this and I still have a bit to finish before I go to sleep.”

“I’ll be back later.”

That one cold October night changed her life for the better. Even if it wasn’t meant to last. This was her last and final year here before she was to return home and do what was expected of her. The days dwindled until she completely lost her freedom. At least here she had some control over her life. She on one of her nightly walks in an attempt to clear her mind when he had bumped into her. She didn’t fear being caught by anyone, her last name alone let her get away with many things. Plus Draco was the Head Boy and wouldn’t get her in trouble. Lost in her train of thought, she didn’t notice a certain ginger running down the hallway. Probably from another prank. Not looking where he was going he knocked straight into (y/n) causing her to stumble back and surely hit the floor hard. But his strong hold prevented her from falling onto the stone ground. Time seemed to freeze as she felt his touch electrify her entire body. (Y/N) stared into his brown eyes as neither said a word to each other. This was the first time they had even crossed paths with each other.

“I’m so sorry love”, he spoke as he helped her stand up straight and let go of her waist. 

“It’s quite alright”, she answered softly. “Just be careful next time.”

“Of course.”

Silence followed for a couple of seconds before he spoke up again. His face showing he was deep in thought.

“You’re not going to run and tell your friend Malfoy that you’ve caught me”, he questioned her. 

“Should I be informing Draco of something you did?”

“No. But I thought you’d be running off now to let him know. After all, you are his friend.”

“No, why would I go and let him know that? It’s not my job to patrol at night.”

A smile formed on his face as he looked at you. His smile made you weak and you didn’t even know why.

From there on a secret friendship blossomed with the red headed boy. (Y/N) wasn’t able to see him in public because word was sure to get your parents. Plus her friends aren’t exactly the nicest people to the Weasleys. Constantly looking down on them and their financial status. Last thing she needed was her mother writing (y/n) about being seen with a “blood traitor”. Merlin, she hated that word. Her relationship with him started slow as a friendship first. Fred was very skeptical of (y/n) in the beginning and it took a lot for him to trust her. Fred knew his brother had fallen for her and he wanted to do nothing more than protect his heart. (Y/N) couldn’t blame him for that. Although she was never truly cruel like the rest of her friends, their reputation was attached to her.  

Because I dropped your hand while dancing. Left you out there standing

He wasn’t able to ask (y/n) to be his date for the Yule Ball, it was too much of a risk. Instead he watched from afar as she danced the night away with a boy from Durmstang. As (y/n) danced with him all she was wishing was that it was George that was holding her tonight. 

That night after the dance she sneaked with George to the room of requirements where the room had become the same winter wonderland as earlier in the evening. This time though, she was able to dance with the one person she truly wanted to hold her in their arms. 

“I really like you (y/n)”, George spoke as they swayed to the music.

“I like you too George.”

“Do you want  to be my girlfriend? I know it will have to be in secret but I want nothing more than to be with you.”

“Of course”, she said smiling up at him. With that, she brought his face down to her level and placed a long awaited kiss on his lips. It was one of hunger and need. A need for him to be closer to her. 

Months passed where she would sneak around and have dates with George. With the help of Fred, the two were able to see each other often. It was hard keeping it a secret as you wanted nothing more than to show the world he was her boyfriend.  But (y/n) knew she couldn’t do that. They would send each other longing looks throughout the day waiting to be able to see each other again. He had once found a picture of her inside her school bag. It had fallen from one of her photo albums she had placed in her bag. He told her he was going to keep that picture in his wallet so that he would always have her near. 

Crestfallen on the landing. Champagne problems

One Saturday while her friends were off to Hogsmeade, she had decided to stay back and spend time with George. While sitting in the room of requirements like she always did with her boyfriend she couldn’t stop thinking about the letter she had received from her mother. The one week spring holiday that the school offered was coming up and her mom expected her to be back home. She couldn’t even stay back and spend it with her boyfriend. She was expected to go home and attend an upcoming ball the Pucey family was organizing. 

Lost in her own mind, (y/n) tried to listen to George. George spoke about wanting to start his own shop with Fred. (Y/N) placed her head on his chest as he continued to speak about what their plans would be after graduation. She played with his hands as he continued on about all the products they would have and how it would be such a great shop. She wishes she could freeze time for a while more.

Spring holiday had come quickly and before (y/n) knew it she was back home and attending countless fancy balls and dinner parties with her parents. As the oldest of her siblings, (y/n) had spent her life at countless balls and dinners with her parents as soon as she turned fifteen. Each and every event they would talk to others looking for the perfect husband for their daughter. It wasn’t until one night after a ball that her parents had informed her that they had found the perfect husband for her. She looked at them with a bit of hesitation as she waited for them to drop who she was supposed to be marrying. 

“Draco Malfoy”, your mother spoke with great excitement in her voice. Mother must be ecstatic about this. 

“Draco Malfoy?” She can start to feel her mouth become dry. 

“Yes, you know that the Malfoy’s are a good family to be marrying into darling. Your life is set”, (y/n)’s mother said as she stroked her hair. “The Flint family also inquired about you marrying their son but they don’t quite have the same status as the Malfoy’s.”

At least it’s not Marcus Flint...

“I know mother.”

“We’ll be having dinner with the Malfoy’s tomorrow night so you two can talk more.”

“Of course father”, (y/n) responded obediently. Your expression never faltering in front of your parents. Although inside you were panicking. What about George?  “I’m familiar with Draco since we are in the same house and have the same friend group.”

“You’ll be the most beautiful bride ever darling”, your mother whispered to you as she hugged you tightly. Too bad the man you want at the end of the aisle won’t be there.

Dinner with the Malfoy’s was quite uneventful other than the talk of the upcoming wedding after the both of you had left Hogwarts. Narcissa continuously complimented her on her beauty and grace. She hugged (y/n) when they entered Malfoy Manor and whispered into her ear, “We couldn’t have picked a better young lady to carry on our name.” She felt like she was about to be sick. (Y/N) did what she was taught to do, smile when appropriate and be as charming as ever. She knew she was nothing more than an object with no feeling to them. 

“Draco darling”, Narcissa spoke once they had finished dinner. “We have some things to discuss, why don’t you show (y/n) around the garden?”

“Of course mother”, Draco responded as he stood up and walked over (y/n). He helped her stand from her chair with an extended hand. He offered (y/n) his elbow as he escorted her out of the dining room and out of the manor into the garden. 

“Are you okay with this”, Draco questioned her once they had found a bench in the stunning garden. 

“I don’t know how I feel” she responded truthfully. “But I am glad it’s you. You’ve been nothing but respectful to me.”

“How do you feel about this?”

“That we have never been given a chance. But I’m glad it’s you too.”

“Were you hoping for Pansy?”, she teased him as everyone knew of Pansy’s big crush on him back in fourth year. . 

He laughed genuinely at her joke. “Anyone but her.”

It became quiet after that as they both knew what they had to do. 

“We’ll be okay”, he whispered as he squeezed (y/n)’s hand.

“We will.”

Neither of you wanted this. Seeing as Draco himself was heads over heels for a muggle-born girl in your year. He had been secretly seeing her for a while. In the shadows with the same fears you had about your parents finding out. (Y/N) had actually caught him with her on one of (y/n)’s nightly walks on her way to see George. She had let him know that she wouldn’t run to his parents and let them know what she had seen. (Y/N) had sympathized with his situation and she’d be a hypocrite if she went and told on him. She felt his pain as (y/n) told him how she was in love with George. The both of you understood the pain you’d have to face as you returned to Hogwarts in the upcoming days. 

Both of you cried that night knowing what you had to do. Neither of you had a way out. You both were just pawns in your parents games.

Your mom's ring in your pocket. My picture in your wallet. Your heart was glass, I dropped it

(Y/N) had made it back to school after the short school holiday. The end of the school year was fast approaching and exams loomed near. She avoided George at first, trying to live a few more days of bliss where she was still happy with him. But that didn’t last long, he had eventually found her after their shared class had ended. He secretly slipped a small paper in her hand. 

“Meet me in the Room of Requirements Tonight after curfew. Love George xx”

(Y/N) was dreading this meeting with him because she knew her time with him was ending. The next time she saw George he had seemed very nervous. He was pacing in the room and kept looking at the ground. He was so distracted that he had failed to notice her presence. 

“What’s wrong”, she questioned him as he suddenly lifted his head up.

“Darling I have something important to talk to you about.”

“What is it?”

“Well, you know how we’re almost graduating? I want you to come with me. I need you by my side.”

“What”, you breathed out as your eyes became wide. 

“I want you by my side” he whispered as he gently placed a hand on your cheek. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. Inside it sat a beautiful ring with a red stone in the center of it. 

“George”, she gasped as tears welled in her eyes. She’s crying because she knows she’ll never have the life she wants. It’s like fate was taunting her.

“I can’t do this George.”

“Please (y/n) come with me”, George pleaded with her. 

“You know I can’t Georgie”, (y/n) whispered as she wiped the tears pouring down her cheeks. 

“I know I can’t give you the same you’re used to but I promise I love you!”

“I can’t go with you because I never loved you”, she said suddenly as her expression became stoic. It’s better to have him hate her then love her. It would help ease her pain.

“What”, he breathed out as he stared at her bewildered with her recent confession. He placed the box with the only ring she’s ever wanted back in his pocket. 

“I never loved you”, (y/n) repeated.

“What about every moment we shared (y/n)! You can’t fake that!”

“Please! You were nothing but a game George. You were nothing more than my entertainment for a while. I’d never thought we’d ever get this far”

“Look at me right now and tell me I never meant anything to you (y/n)”, George whimpered as cupped your cheeks. His eyes pleaded with yours to let this be nothing more than a cruel joke of yours. 

You roughly got out of his hold but not before looking right at him. “I could never love someone like you.”

“I could never love a Weasley. Especially not a blood traitor.”

His expression changed from hurt to anger in seconds. As he looked at you with pure disgust. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were different from those other pure-bloods.” 

He opened the wallet in his pocket and ripped out her picture. Along with her heart. The picture fell slowly to the ground. She watched it as it floated to the floor.

“Goodbye. Hope you have a good life (y/l/n). I hope you can find happiness in your bitter existence.”

“Because only someone with such hatred in their heart plays with the feelings of others.”

As he exited the room, (y/n) broke down in tears. This isn’t the life she wanted. She hated that she was destined for this. She would do anything for another life. She wanted to have the strength to run up and tell him what she was going through. To ask him to save him from her future. But she couldn’t leave her siblings alone. If (y/n) walked out of her parents grasp, she’d be walking away from them too. She felt her chest starting to tighten and her breaths getting shorter and shorter. 

You had a speech, you're speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches

The days seemed to go by with no color in her life. This week has been pouring rain nonstop. The mood of the sky clearly matches her current situation. Pansy had noticed her slight shift in mood but she blamed her emotional turmoil on the nerves of her upcoming graduation. She seemed to believe her or simply just dropped it as not trying to intrude anymore. She watched as he walked the halls of the school with sadness clearly on his face. He’d look her way every once in a while. Some days it was also pure anger when he looked her way.  She had attempted to stay clear of him and Fred. After their shared classes she always left first or walked different routes to her next destination. 

“You know you have some nerve”, she heard a voice behind her. She turned around and came face to face with Fred Weasley. His face red with anger.

“What do you want”, she responded to him as she turned to face him. 

“You took his heart and you bloody broke it”, Fred responded angrily. “He loved you. He probably still does.”

“That’s no longer my problem”, (y/n) responded calmly. All these years of having to mask her true feelings were being used currently. 

“You see, I don’t understand how this was a game to you! You don’t just fake all that!”

“You’ll never understand”, she said in a monotonous manner. 

“Is everything alright here”, Draco questioned as he walked up to them. He took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. 

“Oh I see now”, Fred sneered as he looked down at her intertwined hand with Draco’s. “It was some twisted game between you two.”

“Look you don’t talk to her like that”, Draco responded as he stepped in front of you. Fully blocking Fred from your view.

“I’d hit you right now but I’m sure you’d get your daddy to fight your battles.” Fred said as he shoulder checked Draco on his way out. He didn’t bother to turn back around and look at you. 

“Don’t listen to him”, Draco said as embraced her. 

But you'll find the real thing instead. She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

She knew that George wouldn’t have a problem finding someone else. Someone who would love him like he truly deserved. Someone who could help piece back together what she had broken. He would find some who truly deserved him. Because in her opinion, she had never deserved George Weasley. She could never deserve someone like him.

Challenge to self: write angst with a happy ending??

Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

Tag List: @keepsmilingandstayhappy​

[freebooter4ever]

Hi really sorry to bother you this is my main, usually I’m corrodedcoughin on my st tumblr? I reblogged your drawing and you made an incredible reply to my tags on your drawing of eddie? I just wanted to say thank you so much. I really really appreciate the fact that you went to that effort when you didn’t have to but you’ve made me feel so much better about my truly questionable drawing attempts. Your art is so pretty to look at. So just thank you so much and I sincerely mean that

Hi! You are absolutely not bothering me ^_^ I'm sometimes slow to answer messages, or sometimes I forget conversations exist, but it never bothers me! And sljakfdlsajfkdl thank you for telling me this! I'm so glad I was able to help. Really! As an artist with depression and self esteem issues all my life, I really feel like I want to be more open about how much of a struggle doing what I love can be sometimes....if that makes sense. And I didn't even get that from other artists - it was actually something I heard about in a Debbie Reynolds documentary - how scared she was doing the dancing sequences in Singing In The Rain. And how Fred Astaire took her aside when she was hiding under a table feeling defeated and showed her how intensely he practiced and how it wasn't all fun and games. Let her peek behind the curtain to see the hard work underneath the glitzy dance routines that the audience sees the memorized perfected versions of. (i still cant believe THE debbie reynolds ever felt inadequate) I think I always felt inadequate - like I wasn't even good enough to dedicate myself towards practicing drawing...until that point.

ANYWAY lol shutting up, that was a long winded way of saying you aren't alone <3 keep doing what you love

[andshedoesitagain]

Warm me up

Fred Weasley x Reader                                                              Words - 1.4k

Summary - You have a nightmare and Fred is happy to help you out.

Warnings - Making out, mention of panic and nightmares, Innuendo’s, kissing. 

Air. That’s what you needed, desperately, achingly, so much so that you clung to your chest, shooting up from your pillow as you inhaled rapidly, trying to swallow all the air in the room. 

Nightmares were nothing new to you, all that you had seen and experienced over the years since attending Hogwarts had worn you out dramatically, and bad dreams just so happened to be one of many side effects of that. Even following you when you weren’t even in the school.

Rubbing the weariness from your eyes, you scanned the room around you, the familiarity and cosiness of the room already beginning to ease the tension that had been building in your chest while you were sleeping. 

The Weasley home was your favourite place to be, it provided you a home during all holiday and breaks away from Hogwarts and served as the perfect place to calm down after the pure chaos of the school year. The eccentric redheads had never treated you as any less than another member of the family, from the moment that you had first turned up on their doorstop practically attached at the hip with Fred and George.

Although your bond with one of the twins was much different than with the other. Fred had never been quiet about his feelings for you, always flirting and teasing, though it had never evolved into much more than a coy back and forth between the two of you, and although you weren’t completely content in that, you never forced anything, happy just to be around him. 

Well, that was until he had out of the blue decided to kiss you just hours earlier.

  Poking him with your elbow, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as he continued to nudge you, in effort to see himself in the mirror you were currently using to brush your teeth. “Fred, I’ll be done in just a second, then you can stare at yourself for as long as you want to,” you quipped taking the toothbrush out your mouth. 

“I’ll have aged ten years by the time you’re done,” he replied with a grin as he bumped you away once again with his hip, not even bothering to remove the toothbrush from his mouth. 

You fought for a little longer for use of the mirror, before you gave up, spitting into the sink and placing your toothbrush down, sitting down on the edge of the tub and crossing your arms across your chest, silently waiting for him to finish.  

Looking up to his reflection you caught him looking back to you, sending you a wink as you caught his gaze. Sticking your tongue out in response, he let out a quiet chuckle before speaking. “I really like your t-shirt, very fashionable.”

Raising an eyebrow, you looked down to the shirt you were wearing, quickly realising it was one of many you had ‘borrowed’ from him, building a small collection over the years of staying at the Weasley’s. “I’m glad you like it, it’s a little oversized but it’s cute right?” you queried, a grin dancing on your lips as you glanced back up at him.  

For a split second you could swear you caught a slight blush on his face, but as he leant down to spit in the sink, you just missed it. Taking that as your queue you went to stand up, heading for the doorway until you were swiftly pulled back, a quick peck placed on your lips and a hand gently grabbing your t-shirt. 

Your eyes wide, Fred pulled back from you and nodded, examining you up and down as he mumbled, his own grin wide, “yeah, it looks really good on you.” 

Pulling yourself to your feet, you tried not to shiver as the cold hit you. With the Weasley house being practically full to the brim, you had opted to sleep on the couch in the living room on your own, although it didn’t stop you from tiptoeing out of the room to the kitchen, trying to be as silent as possible in fear of waking up anybody else in the house. 

Pouring yourself a glass of water, you sipped it down quick, the cool feeling down your throat further grounding you from your previous panic. Again, tiptoeing back to the living room, you felt your heart jump into your throat as a figure stood in the middle of the room. 

Cutting off your gasp, a familiar voice spoke, “it’s just me, it’s Fred.” The ginger haired boy stood closer, revealing his face. Exhaling slowly, you ran a hand through your hair.

“You scared me.” Your voice was breathy as you practically croaked out your words, causing Fred to let out a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry, what are you doing up?” He enquired, eyes following you as you plopped yourself back on to the couch, bringing your knees to your chest.

Pulling your blanket back over you, you scooted over slightly to make room for him as he sat closely next to you. “I had a nightmare,” laying your head against the couch to look at him better, you noticed how his face scrunched up a little.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Also laying his head against the back of his couch, sincerity dripped from his voice even as his tone was light.

Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but lean in a little closer to him, a reaction that had become normal to you over the years you had known him. “No, you being here helps though,” finding yourself whispering you sent a soft smile his way, one he had no hesitation in returning. 

“Glad I can be of help,” he whispered back, the usually mischievous look in his eyes swapped for a slightly rarer warm-hearted expression. Reaching out your hand you intertwined fingers with him, you took a breath.

Flattening out your palm in his hand, he looked at you with a tired smile, “close your eyes,” he whispered. A small chuckle of confusion passed your lips as you slowly let them flutter closed, not questioning what the redhead had planned.

Lightly you felt his fingertip drag over your hand, delicately drawing random shapes, “I’ll draw something on your hand, and you guess what it is, okay?” Fred asked, to which you nodded, eyes still firmly shut.  

The first few shapes were easy, circles, squares triangles, before eventually they got a little more niche and harder to guess. Giggling as you played his game, you continued to try and guess his newest shape. “Is it…. a bird?” 

Hearing a scoff followed by, “good guess, but no,” opening up your eyes you listened, “it was a snitch, but I’ll excuse how terrible you were at the game, because you’re tired.” Rolling your eyes at him, you blinked through the darkness to get a better look at his face, something he seemed to catch on to. “Checking me out, Y/N?” He teased.

Instead of answering, you just took a sharp breath. Trying not to overthink it you practically threw yourself on to him, your lips meeting his as you once again closed your eyes. Fred was quick, almost like he had been anticipating it, as he kissed you back confidently.

Without hesitation, his hand ran up your spine to the back of your head, his hand in your hair, as he sat up to deepen the kiss. Cupping his face in your hands, you tried not to chuckle in surprise when he slowly pulled you into his lap, the kiss calm and tender, despite your closeness.

Moving your hands to his shoulders, one of his hands went to push your hair behind your ear, the other just barely grazing your thigh. Heart pounding in your ears you grasped onto his shirt, before sliding your hands to his neck.

It was like all anticipation that had built to this moment had burst, everything hot and impatient. One of his hands had landed just below your t-shirt, causing you to jump slightly, “your hands are freezing,” you mumbled against his lips, which only made him press his fingertips a little harder against your hip, sneaking a grin even as you kissed.

“You can warm me up then,” Fred mumbled back, pulling back to look at him, you noticed how flushed he had become, lips and cheeks red. “Looks like you did that all yourself,” you quipped back.

Letting out a soft laugh, he drew circles into your hip, he stared up at you, eyes wide and dazed, “guess you just do that to me, Y/N.”

///Hey! After my last Fred Weasley x Reader did so well, I was really excited to get this one out that I’ve had sitting for a little while, so I hope you enjoy, and as always feel free to request!!///