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#fred weasley preferences
pappydaddy · 1 year
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sorry about the shirt (f.w.)
a/n: now that i named this fic this, now i have an idea for another fic with this as a prompt.... ugh my mind, curse my cognition! also, i have deleted this and reformatted this like six times and the title is still not saving as a god-damn title anymore. ugh. tumblr (pls don't shadowban me again)
tv show/movie: harry potter | pairing: fred weasley x fem!hufflepuff!reader
requested by the lovely @readingfan  (hope you enjoy it💛!) | my little pea-sized, fred-lane brain made this a fred x reader without me realizing it until seconds before posting this
synopsis: fred and george getting a summer job in a coffee shop where a pretty girl frequents. said pretty girl seems to have fred in a trance. what could possibly go wrong? well, fred knows what could now that an innocent shirt has been ruined.
taglist: @frederickandgeorge-weasley | @lilypad-55449 | @popeheywardssecretgf | @eichenhouseproperty | @slytherinambitious | @onyourgoddamnleft *line through you user means i could not tag you lovelies!
warnings: reader is described to wear sundresses | mentioned of negative thoughts about oneself (reader has negative thoughts about herself) | fred and george being teens (aged to be 18, idc if it's not canonically plausible) working in retail).
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- not my gif -
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GIF by fgweasley
Summer was supposed to be a time of freedom, long nights, and recklessness and there was nobody else who knew this more than Fred and George. Unfortunately for them, it appears that their summer was going to be nothing but seeing the inside of that damn coffee shop. Fred and George rarely ever regretted a prank, but right now, they were starting to think that perhaps slipping Malfoy that candy that made his skin turn Gryffindor red and his hair a golden snitch gold wasn’t worth this. It also taught them that when Malfoy said his father would hear about this, he actually means it - sometimes.  
  However, no matter how funny the prank was and how much it was worth all the time they spent planning and agonizing to create the final product, it was not worth this. Not worth the wrinkled fingers that lost all feeling after wiping down every single table and counter in the cafe. Not worth the skin of the heat from the coffee machines. Not worth the horrible experience of dealing with customers. Not to mention uncomfortable uniforms. Forced to wear black jeans, black dress shirts, and a ratty old apron ten other people wore before them. 
  While George grumbled everyday, hoping and wishing for their return to Hogwarts (something nobody expected to hear), Fred’s summer was not a complete waste. He did not realize this when they applied for their job, but this coffee shop tucked into a hidden alleyway of Diagon Alley was often frequented by a rather pretty girl. In her flowing sundresses, her hair cascading down over her shoulders in soft waves. When he first saw her his knees nearly gave out. Then when she turned to leave (lemonade in hand - it was a hot day) and he caught a glimpse of the white ribbon tying her hair into a half-up, half-down style, George had to catch him because his knees did give out. She looked vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t exactly place her. 
  “She’s in our year, a Hufflepuff,” Hermione had told him one day when she and Ron had visited them. They were out gathering ideas for a present for Harry. “She’s quiet, likes to stick to her routine but doesn’t shy away from new opportunities. She’s in my book club and study club. She has such a beautiful voice but she thinks it's horrible - that’s why she is so quiet.” She revealed after Fred pressed her for more information. 
  Unfortunately for Fred, he has yet to hear that beautiful voice since he never seems to be on the cash when she comes in or someone beats him to it - usually George as a form of twisted amusement. “Hermione was right. She does have a beautiful voice.” George blinked after the first time he took her order. It was later discovered that the reason she hates her voice was because some Slytherins had poked fun at her in First Year, leaving her with an ugly taste in her mouth and horrible self-confidence. Fred could wring their necks, every last one of them. 
  Anytime Fred had any downtime, he found himself thinking of her. He knew nothing of her but, yet, she consumed every thought and every dream of his. Such as today. It was a horribly humid and dreadful day. Every door to the coffee shop was open, a cooling spell was placed on the shop but it was barely fighting against the stickiness, and the owner even found some muggle fans and set them up. It was slow, barely anyone wanted to leave their houses and if they did, they surely couldn’t even think about sipping on a coffee - even one of their iced ones since the ice would probably melt before they even took their first sip. 
  But here was Fred, elbows digging into the counter as he hogged one of the fans. His back was facing the entrance as he moved with the fan which was oscillating. George was in the back, doing work back there but Fred was sure he was just sitting in front of that fan. “Bloody hell.” He groaned, pinching his shirt and pulling it away from him. This was torture. 
  “Excuse me,” A soft, hesitant voice called to him over the rattling of the fan, startling him. Turning around, his eyes widened when she saw who stood at the counter. Hair pulled up into a high ponytail, bangs hanging around her face from where the shorter strands fell out of the ponytail. Even looking right at her, he saw the ribbon she usually wore in her hair. Today’s was a pretty yellow shade, matching the sundress she wore. It was a pale yellow, nothing that jumped right out at you. “Could I get a large lemonade?” She asked him, blinking sweetly as she rolled up to the balls of her white converse. That voice. He was blown away. He was never going to be the same after hearing that beautiful sound. How could he go on with his life knowing that that voice exists and he isn’t hearing it every second of everyday.  
  “Yes, of course,” He nodded, rushing to the counter, nearly tripping over himself. “George, can you make a large lemonade?” He yelled out back as he typed away on the till. Instantly, George emerged, a large lemonade in hand. 
  “Here ya go, Y/N. I knew you would be wanting one of these today. Made it once I heard your voice.” He winked at her and Fred contemplated murdering him right there. He actually considered it when she giggled at his twin, but the sound made him stop. Everybody said her voice was the most beautiful sound, which he could agree with all his heart on now that he heard it, but her giggle. Just thinking about making her laugh made him want to lay on his stomach on his bed and kick his feet like Ginny does whenever Harry says hi to her. 
  “Thank you, George,” She smiled thankfully, holding out her hand. Almost as if under a spell, Fred reached his hand out, palm facing up. With her sweet smile turning to Fred, she dropped a handful of sickles in his palm. Her fingers brushed against the palm of his hand, sending shivers and sparks running through his nerves. “That’s enough for the lemonade and ten sickles for you guys to split for a tip. Thank you, Fred.” 
  The shock sent to Fred’s system was immense when she said his name. She knew his name. She knew his name. He opened and closed his mouth as she turned on her heel, her skirt flaring up adorably, her ponytail and ribbon flaring up as well and off she went into the dreadful heat, making Fred’s day so much better. 
____
  It was a rush. Possibly the biggest rush Fred and George have ever experienced at the shop. The queue was running out of the door. Perhaps everyone just now realized that summer was coming to a close and just now decided to emerge from their lazy, hazy, summer daze to enjoy the days. This, of course, made Fred miserable. 
  Instead of enjoying their time, patrons were making their lives a living hell. And for what? Amusement? What was the reason he had to get yelled at by a man because his coffee was too hot to drink? He questioned if it was possible that these people got some sort of happiness from throwing adult hissyfits and yelling at underpaid, overworked employees. Did they have some sort of odd kink? Did it fill a missing void? Whatever it was, Fred quite frankly did not want to be part of it.  
  However, when he saw that shining face in the queue, her nose buried in her book as she read so intently. She wore her hair down aside from two locks of hair tied back into a braid, secured by a light blue ribbon today. When he saw her, he froze for a moment. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way the sun burned through the dirty windows (that seemed to have fingerprint smudged permanently tattooed on it) and hit her like a golden spotlight. The way her finger absentmindedly stroked the cover of her book as she read. 
  “Excuse me,” The customer in front of him barked. He jolted back to reality. Frankly, he already was in reality since Y/N was completely gorgeous. There was no fantasy about that. She was perfect. The fantasy was that she had feelings for him or at least thought he was cute. “Did you get my order?” The man, a short, plump man with an angry red nose despite the beautiful summer day they were having, grumbled. 
  “One medium coffee. Would you like that iced or with anything in it?” Fred asked the normal questions, bracing himself for the normal response he usually received from people with certain mannerisms. 
  The man’s nose seemed to get even more red. “Of course I don’t. If I wanted it another way, I would have ordered it another way. What do I look like? An idiot? Rowena, you kids these days, needing to have things iced and sweetened. Whatever happened to the good British taste? Black coffee. That is what I want-”
  “That will be 3 sickles, Sir.” Fred read the total off, noticing how Y/N glanced up, rolling onto her tiptoes to take note of what was taking so long. He wanted to get this nasty old man out of his line so that she could get on with her day. Her day shouldn’t be wasted in this shop waiting in line. 
  “Here, keep the change.” The man basically tossed the sickles at Fred. Four sickles. 
  “Some change,” Fred whispered under his breath, putting three sickles in the till and dropping one in the communal tip jar. That naked a total of five sickles in tips. “Have a nice day, sir,” Fred faked a smile as the man waddled off to the pick-up area, barking at George to hurry up. “I can help whoever is next.” “Two people until her.” Fred thought. 
  “Hi, could we get two lemonades? Mediums please,” The teen girl giggled, eyes staring up at Fred sweetly. Fred nodded, writing the order down and sliding it along the counter. Harrison, the manager, grabbed it to start making it. “So, we’ll be seeing you at Hogwarts in a couple of weeks, right, George?” She asked with a bat of her eyelashes, still getting his name wrong despite his name tag being basically eye level with her. He could see Y/N look up from her book, snickering slightly behind her book. 
  “I’m actually Fred. And yes. That will be seven sickles today.” Fred read off their total, holding his hand out for their money. 
  “Oh, sorry. You both are so handsome, it’s hard to tell you apart.” She flirted with a wink, dropping exactly seven sickles in his hand. 
  “Have a nice day,” He nodded to them as they wandered off with linked arms to bother George. “Next please!” He just needed to take care of this one customer and then she would be at his cash. Evidently, she noticed this as she was tucking her book into her bag and pulling out her coin wallet. He watched her intently, somehow managing to take the customer’s order and recite the amount of money he needed. 
  He watched as she counted the sickles she had pulled out before pulling out two more coins before doing some math in her head. He could tell since her eyes flicked around and she used her free hand to wiggle her fingers as if counting on them. “Have a nice day.” He wasn’t even sure what that customer ordered, but he must have done it right. 
  And up stepped the person he was waiting for. Y/N stepped up with a bounce, smiling brightly at him. He wanted to faint right there. There she was, standing there and it overwhelmed him so much that his nervous system was going haywire on him. “Hi, Freddie!” She seemed to have gotten much more comfortable. She was more bubbly and talkative with him and his brother. She even started to call them by nicknames. It warmed Fred’s heart to the point it might burst. 
  “Hi, Y/N, what can I get for you today?” He asked, trying to calm his racing heart and malfunctioning nervous system. He was in fight-or-flight with the secret third option: faint. 
  “Just a large iced coffee. I am trying to finish off the last book on my book club’s summer reading list and I decided I might as well change up the scenery.” She explained, her voice much more even and comfortable. Not the same reluctant, soft voice she had when she first talked to him. And if he thought that voice was beautiful, then this voice was perfect. Alluring. Charming. Cute. Marvelous. Dazzling. Delicate. Stunning. Splendid. Gorgeous. Lovely. Any synonym there was for beautiful because this voice was so much better. 
  Before he could even tell her the total, she handed him the sickles she had counted out prior to the interaction. She always did it. “Three sickles for the iced coffee and how many for the tip?” He asked, knowing exactly how she worked things. 
  “Fifteen. Five for everyone who worked today,” She smiled as she rolled up to the balls of her feet - something he found that she did often. The line was gone aside from her and part of Fred wished it would stay away so she could stand there talking to him, but unfortunately someone walked in. “I’ll leave you to it, Fred.” She smiled at him. It appeared sad and part of him hoped that she felt upset about having to part from him. 
  He watched her walk over to George who held her coffee out to her. Sharing pleasantries, she headed off to one of the many tables. Taking her normal table by the window. “Alright boys. I am heading out, I’ll be back in two hours to close it down.” Harrison told them. That was most likely the last rush of the day. People didn’t tend to frequent the coffee shop near close. They gave him nods as he left. 
  Thirty minutes and they hadn’t stopped. Anytime they saw a lull coming, once they served one customer, two more would come. Just as Fred turned his back, taking a deep breath as the attack stopped, he heard the approaching footsteps of someone. He wanted to roll his eyes and outwardly show the resentment he had felt, but he didn’t feel the same hostility he had felt with the last few customers. Part of him should have known why before he turned around, but sometimes he isn’t always on the ball. 
  As he turned around, he was pleasantly shocked to see Y/N standing there at the counter again, her head down as she inspected the wet patch on her blue sundress. After a few seconds of silence, she looked up, hand hovering over the patch on the center of her torso. “Hey, Fred, again,” She smiled, a bit awkwardly as she didn’t usually come up after she got her order unless it was to say bye to the boys (something rather new after she got comfortable with them). “Do you think I could get a napkin? That last customer who left kind of knocked into me a bit and I got the last bit of iced coffee on me-” She cut herself off as Fred reacted without thinking, grabbing the back of his brother’s black shirt and ripping it off of him.
  “Here you go, Y/N.” He handed it to her. Shocked, she took it from him. George just stood there, blinking at his brother as if he had gone completely mad. Fred considered this a sign that perhaps, working nearly every single day of the summer had made him cracked in the head. Slowly, looking at the face Y/N was making, he came back into his body. It was as if seeing Y/N in need made him go into autopilot, doing whatever he needed to to resolve the issue Y/N was facing. 
  “Fred, what in Godric's name?” George questioned, still a bit shocked that his brother completely ripped the back of his shirt off, leaving just his sleeves and the front. It was silent as the three of them all looked at each other, trying to make sense of the situation. Fred couldn’t even remember his brain telling him to do that, let alone any thought of ripping his brother’s shirt. 
  The silence was broken by the sweet giggles of Y/N. Fred nearly gave himself whiplash turning his head to look at her. There she stood, on the other side of the counter, one hand holding the tattered shreds of George’s shirt, the other one hovering over her mouth as her giggled turned into laughter, eyes crinkling closed. “Oh my Helga,” She pressed her lips together, her purely magnetic eyes opening and meeting Fred’s with a zing being sent through Fred’s body like electricity (which this summer, he discovered was pretty dangerous). “I needed that, Freddie. That guy who bumped my arm as a complete arse-” Fred blinked, that might have been the most foul he had ever heard her talk, though Hermione had told him she had said much worse about some of the guys in their year. “You know exactly what to do to make people laugh, it’s an amazing gift,” She nodded at him, a large smile hanging off her lips. “Thank you, see you at Hogwarts if I am not in next week.” She whispered as she rolled onto the balls of her feet. 
  Before Fred could react, she was pressing her lips against his cheek. Her sweet looking lips felt even sweeter against the now burning flesh of his freckled cheeks. He knew that now he felt her lips, he wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about how they would feel against his own lips, but right now his brain was empty. He couldn’t function as she pulled away, heels crashing to the ground. A bashful smile stayed on her lips as she waved to the pair of them, Fred so far gone he barely even registered the fact that her lips were no longer touching him - probably due to the fact that the tingling he felt was still there.    When he finally came back into his body again, Y/N and her bashfulness had left with her book tucked under her arm for almost five minutes. Blinking around, Fred saw the basically empty shop, the only person lingering being someone who had been there for two hours now. Looking to his side, he felt George’s “what the hell” look before he saw it. Winching, nervous about his brother’s wrath. “Sorry about the shirt, George.”
482 notes · View notes
apparentlytheproblem · 10 months
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d a t i n g m a t h e o r i d d l e
fandom- Harry Potter
pairing(s)- matheo riddle
a/n: i had fun with this cause my boy is'nt even cannon and i've derived this from the show deadly class (its absolutley lovley) and im so sorry i deleted the request baby with love, tiya
requested- yes
warnings- unexperienced writer, not thoroughly edited
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i think it would be a slowburn
i think it would take time for both of you to personally acknowledge what you both have
because Matheo Riddle is too high and mighty to have something as low and embarrassing as a highschool crush
my man will be in utter confusion why he wants to stare but looks away to act cool
like you both keep glancing at each other, for what?
y'all just ignoring each other just to avoid a zoo in your stomach
but like you know you're in love, you know he's in love, at this point everyone knows but y'all just don't admit it
because if you do, everything suddenly becomes to real
I have always had such an obsession with him
him, his face, his everything
his eyes are so pretty, they're just gorgeous and that freakin smile would just get me on my knees
I think even though he seems as the cold hearted bitch he's just so sweet to you
I've always had a thing for people who has a soft spot for me ugh
everyone hated him, loved him or wanted to be him
he was the it girl
I don't think he'd be much into playing quidditch as such
but he's pretty darn fit if i must say so myself
he'd be good in combat fighting
hence all the fights, but he'd be winnin my luv
he'd teach you how to play video games
he'd make you playlists and everything
once you both have reached that bond he'd be so obnoxious
he'd be loving, caring and everything
10/10 fr
he loves that everyone knows you're dating
this would be important as he gets jealous so easily
he's just yours and I love that
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wynt3rrr · 1 year
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—NSFW: how they react when they accidentally make you cry during sex
(in this preference, you cry because you are overwhelmed, not because of the pleasure😭😭😭)
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harry potter:
he doesn’t immediately notice
once he does, he quick to pull out and reassure of your needs or problems
“i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to”
kiss your head as he hugs you tightly
hermione granger:
notices right away
she stops whatever she’s doing and hugs you without saying a word
feels guilty she made you cry
ron weasley:
thinks your crying out of pleasure
laughs and goes harder or faster until you tell him to stop
once he does he feels so bad, he won’t leave your side for days
draco malfoy:
was watching your face the whole time and he immediately noticed the look in your eye change . he saw the tears start to build up in your eyes and your mouth part, unable to speak
you put a hand on his chest and he stops, asking what’s wrong
“i’m so so sorry”
rubs your back, cooing you to sleep
luna lovegood:
“is everything ok?” you shake your head no at her question and she stops
she kisses your nose and asks what’s wrong
george weasley:
immediately freezes
pulls out and tries to calm down your breathing
kissing you repeatedly
fred weasley:
asks what’s wrong as he continues
you scream for him to stop and immediately noticed something is off
apologizes and hugs you till you sleep
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witchthewriter · 1 year
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𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐏 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!      
a/n: (Let me know if you want a separate post for a character - I’ll go into more depth). Also this is one of my favourite posts, it’s so wholesome
Inspired by @angelltheninth. Thank you for always writing such amazing posts!
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ        
𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿
A glimpse into your life with your HP s/o. 
𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐚  
・Constantly forgets where she puts things
    “It’s the nargles...” Luna mutters, looking underneath the couch pillows for her necklace.
“It’s not the nargles,” you reply, shaking your head.  
・Always makes you late because she forgets her wand or bag 
・So you create a space where she is allowed to dump her things. It actually made it a lot easier. You’ve dubbed it ‘Luna’s Space’ 
・Even though she can ‘Accio’ her things, she actually needs her wand to do that, and she also forgets her wand. 
・Yes, there are a lot of animals in and around your household
・Luna cannot help but attract them
・And they’re usually a mix of muggle animals as well as magical animals 
・Bowtruckles that like to hide in your jacket pockets, jackalope’s that like to sneak inside and fall asleep in front of the fire, a kneazle who actually bonded with you and rarely leaves your side (gets upset when you have to leave her at home)
・You cook as Luna is ghastly at making food 
・But she tidies up and makes sure the fire is always burning (for some reason she’s always cold)
・Nights snuggling on the couch, sharing a big fuzzy blanket and staring into the flames,, or reading a book
𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝
・Is very messy. He leaves his clothes scattered around the place. You’ve told him that if he continues to do it then you’ll shrink his clothes. 
・He respected the threat, and his clothes now live in their proper places
・Is a bit of a wiz in the kitchen - 
・Until you realised that he was just enchanting everything to cook themselves 
・Is quite social so there’s usually someone coming around each week (either George or Lee Jordan)
・A lot of testers for the joke shop are done at home, so if something blows up then...Fred is in big f*cking trouble
・He actually journals a LOT
・And has some really interesting ideas
・Wants to travel with you, to experience different cultures
・Ultimately he wants to learn about different forms of magic so he can incorporate it into his life and work
・You do visit Molly a lot, and sit down with her, Ginny and Hermione to discuss life
・Arthur becomes a great confidant as well. He has some great knowledge, espcially about his son
・Fred has extravagant gifts for you. They may not be expensive since he’s saving money, but he does want to make you feel special
・In terms of pets, Fred wants ones that can be useful. But sometimes you get lonely when you come home from work and he’s still at the shop 
・So you’re still deciding on what you want to get...
𝐂𝐡𝐨  
・Wanted to be the sole person in charge of decorating 
・An apartment not too far from the heart of London
・Everything in your house is a light blue with hints of silver and a dash of purple
・Took a lot of inspiration from the beauxbatons, their uniform as well as their overall aesthetic with a hint of Ravenclaw
・Everything is very orderly and she likes things in their proper places 
・For pets you both have your Hogwarts animal - hers is an owl, and you also surprised her with a completely white ragdoll kitten on her first anniversary together (she absolutely loved it)
・Cho loves to sit down with you and talk about each other’s day. What went on and such
・She’s a very touchy person so she loves when you hold her hand and cup her cheek
・She’s also in touch with her emotions and is usually the first to cry in sad situations
・Has a certain routine for her hair, and it actually does work because it is ALWAYS SHINY
・Likes board games as well
・Has a family game night with her side of the family once every two weeks
𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞
・Is surprisingly clean - 
・Always picks up after himself and does a bit of spring cleaning here and there
・He picked it up from his mother; someone had to. And he was used to being the clean twin. The one who cleaned up after Fred 
・His favourite meal is a full baked roast dinner. With Yorkshire puddings and loads of gravy. 
・Once a week you visit the Burrow for dinner. And Molly fusses over you two, saying that you need to eat more. You always leave with a whole sack full of random items for the house. Old lamps, rolls of toilet paper, once she gave you a side table
・Fred is a constant visitor at your and George’s place. He’s almost living there himself
・There’s even been a few times where he’s gotten you groceries 
・George is terrible at saying no to you, so whatever you want, you always get
・Your home is practically the Burrow - you liked the feel of George’s home so much that you did your best to recreate it but add a bit of you in as well
・George absolutely loves living with you. His heart is always full.
・Sometimes he’ll come home and Fred will be in the kitchen, rummaging through the pantry while you’re on the lounge reading, drawing or listening to music 
・It’s a quiet life but George loves it. It’s a reprieve from the shop with Fred, which is always loud and chaotic
・You do visit him and he always has a beaming smile on his face when he sees you
・At home there’s a room full of packages for the joke shop. Some simply toys, others potions and oils. Do you test them out? Sure do - George is happy for you to do so 
𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐲
・Grew up with everything handed to her on a silver platter
・Once she changed her view on muggles, her family basically threw her out 
・Taking pity on her, and thinking the world can be better, you created a friendship. Friendship grew to relationship and that grew to love. 
・So, instead of being merely roommates, you were now a couple
・She’s not the easiest person to get along with. But once you both found your flow, then you were both settled. 
・Pansy forced her femininity in school, but she found that she actually preferred to take on the ‘masculine roles. 
・Can’t lie magic is still a big help though, and Pansy would be absolutely lost if she was in the muggle world 
・Your friends are now her friends. It took a lot of time for them to get around the idea, especially Ginny, but turns out they bonded really deeply
・When Ginny invited the both of you to the Burrow one day Pansy cried that very night
・She had never seen a family like this
・There was so much love. And Mrs Weasley was so attentive.
・One of the things that Pansy loved the most was when Mrs Weasley called her “dear”
・And you nearly cried because it’s such a little thing and Pansy never got to experience that
𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲  
・He wasn’t sure how you wanted to go about this
・Because Harry grew up in the muggle world, as did you, so you were both excited to find the charms that would make domestic life easier 
・Like in the Burrow, where Mrs Weasley had the chores done by magic 
・So you and Harry went to Hermione to find the charms (for some reason Flitwick hadn’t taught that)
・The first time you used it, you and Harry jumped up in the air and wooped. You high fived and kept doing it on different items
・It’s one of your favourite memories 
・Headmaster McGonnagall comes to dinner every second Tuesday - she wanted it to be weekly but she was just too busy. 
・She comes in her robes and is tight lipped when she first enters your home. But after she sits down, her demeanour changes. 
・Minerva knows what she can and can’t say, but when she’s had a few wines she becomes loose-lipped 
・Once she turned into her animagus and fell asleep on your lap, purring loudly
・Sometimes you have to leave the room because her and Harry have very intense conversations; you just want to give him privacy - he never wants you to leave. But you’re usually make ten minutes later with three steaming cups of tea 
・You have framed pictures of Dumbledore, Hagrid and Snape hanging on the hallway walls
・His parents are in the centre on the fireplace mantelpiece 
・The first night you slept in your own home, Harry cried. When you asked why, he told you a story about the Dursleys
・And then you started crying as well
𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞  
・Busy lifestyle. She always has something to do, so you both split the chores 50/50 as you both work
・Things always have their place. And when they aren’t in their place Hermione does her best not to lose it
・And the house is always clean (she knows all the charms)
・The kitchen cleans itself, the bed is always made, shoes are at the front door etc
・They’re charms that are a few steps ahead of what Mrs Weasley uses (Hermione learnt them while reading of course). Once she tried to tell Mrs Weasley about them and the red-headed woman practically walked away (she thinks her way is best). 
・You’ve asked Hermione to teach you everything she knows, that’s why your relationship works. You love her intelligence and knowledge. 
・She isn’t that big on pets though, and has a 5 year plan
    “I’m sorry Y/n, but having a pet wasn’t a part of our plan.” 
“Hermione please, look at him!” 
・She absolutely crumbled when you did the puppy dog eyes while holding the puppy against your face
    “...okay fine, but I’m not picking up any poo.” (She most certainly did.)
・So you have beagle called Finley. And Hermione pretended to be indifferent with him for about a week, and then she fell in love
・Finley goes everywhere with you two, and Hermione’s parents are shocked when the three of you turn up to dinner
   “Umm, sweetheart why-”
“This is Finley, mum and dad, please treat him with respect.”
𝐑𝐨𝐧  
・He had no idea where to start when you first moved in together. He was an absolute mess
   “I just don’t know what you mean by decorating! This is too stressful-”
・Has Harry around a lot. Or at least, asks him to come around a lot
・You guys go to the Burrow at least once a week for a family dinner - everyone is there, and when someone can’t attend, Mrs Weasley is nearly on the brink of tears
・After Ron gets used to the idea of living in his own place, with you. He starts to settle. He finds his routine. 
・He’s usually the last one to wake up and the last to go to bed.
・Absolutely adores sweets, and keeps a whole drawer full next to his bed. In the middle of the night you’ll hear a rustle and it’s Ron opening a chocolate frog
  “Aw, Dumbledore again-”
・Sends howlers to Fred and George, specifically to their shop so they’ll open them in the middle of the store
・You told Ron it was a terrible idea because they hit back 5x harder
・Harry tells Ron about television and Ron absolutely loses it, goes out and buys one the next day 
・His favourite programmes are the Vicar of Dibley and Absolutely Fabulous (although pretends to hate it - turns it off whenever you come into the room), 
𝐆𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐲  
・So excited to move in together!!!
・Her parents are extra pushy because she’s their little girl. But they know you’ll look after her (which is true, but Ginny is the one who wears the pants in this relationship) 
・A lot of Quidditch posters and books
・You have to tell her not to ride her broom in the house 
・Wants to adopt ALL THE DOGS
・She’s at Quidditch practice a lot, so you usually get the things you need to get done in that time so when she comes back you can spend time together
・Ginny is always bringing you back flowers. And they’re huge bouquets. They’re different every time 
・Likes to surprise you with her cooking skills because Mrs Weasley is a bit traditional that way (she didn’t teach her sons how to cook)
・Actually doesn’t cry that often and has her sh*t together most of the time 
・Or she seems like she has her shit together most of the time
・Very good at remembering appointments and the like
・Didn’t care much about decorating the place, but did want it to be cosy like the Burrow
・Has little knick knacks on the kitchen window sill
・And wears gloves while she does the dishes 
𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞  
・I think it’s pretty obvious, but Neville’s home would be COVERED with plants. Vines growing on poles, flowers blooming across window sills, 
・He waters, feeds and tends to them everyday. Not missing a single one. 
・Neville is awake at about 5:30am to do all of it
・Because by that time it’s nearly 7:45 and he has to get ready for work
・Never leaves to go anywhere without giving you a kiss
・Feeds the birds but doesn’t realise that that means a whole flock will came back next time
・You go to see his parents with him at St. Mungos hospital
・And you hold him as he cries in your arms afterwards
・Has nightmares about his parents and it wakes you up in the middle of night
・You met his grandmother and although you have to give her credit for raising Neville, she was quite horrible to him. 
・You’ve told Neville that you will have a go at her if she says one bad thing about him (that includes passive aggressiveness, alluding to him, or anything that could be seen as an insult)
・He loves you for it
・But still has a soft place in his heart for the woman that raised him
𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨  
・After the Battle of Hogwarts Draco’s perspective of the world changed
・He saw horrors as well as allowed horrors to happen. He felt immense guilt. 
・And his relationship with his father was practically ruined 
・His mother was the only parent he saw. But she still had the outlook that purebloods were the only people worthy of respect
・Draco knew he had to make amends. His conscience was heavy. 
・So he went back to Hogwarts and asked the Headmistress McGonaggal how to make up for his wrong doings. 
・That’s how you and Draco got together
・After some time, when your relationship was established, he moved out of the Malfoy Mansion and in with you
・It was a difficult transition, especially the fact that there was no one to wait on him hand and foot
・You taught him how to cook - or at least the charms on how to do so 
・At first it was goddamn hard, but he endured
・And the look on your face when he got it right ... god ... he needed to impress you again and again. Just to see that look. 
・Turns out he’s actually he very good cook. Not that great at cleaning up after himself, but luckily you live in a world of magic 
・You even let him decorate wherever he wished
・He chose quite gothic dark academia style 
・Rich colours; deep emerald, dark blue, burgundy, maroon
・His mother was still giving him money though-
・And you said that he should invite her over
・That first dinner was especially difficult. The look on her face when she walked in ... you could read exactly what she was thinking ‘small, ... poor, why would he give up living with me for this.’
・But the love for her son outweighed the prejudice in her heart
423 notes · View notes
nadinebrooks · 1 year
Text
Here is the link to my masterlist.
This one is a little long because I didn't divide it up into 2 parts, but I hope everyone enjoys! Do you prefer them to be shorter or a little on the longer side?
You Get Jealous
Harry: Gryffindor, halfblood, same year
I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.   
I know hate is a strong word, but it was the only emotion I was feeling at this moment. I hate her perfect flaming red her. I hate her perfect freckled complexion. And I hate her perfect personality. She had Harry wrapped around her perfect little finger. She didn't even have to do anything. She just existed and he was obsessed.
After I had to play in that Quidditch match for Harry, Oliver Wood wanted me to start coming to practice. I was learning the roles of the other positions. He explained that he wanted to have me around just in case.  I was not looking forward to playing Quidditch in front of a crowd again. I hope nobody on the team needed me.  
On the way to the field for an afternoon practice on Saturday, Ginny spent the entire time flirting with Harry. She was the team's new Chaser. It was as if he actually enjoyed the attention.
I mean who wouldn’t. There were guys who would go to detention for an entire month with Snape if they got a chance just to talk to Ginny Weasley.
She was absolutely perfect. I hated that I felt this way because I liked to consider Ginny one of my closest friends.  
I tried not to scoff as I watched Ginny talking to Harry. She was batting her eyelashes and giggling. She would touch his arm and he leaned into her touch. Harry was laughing at things that she was saying, but I couldn’t hear what the conversation was about. I knew that Harry wasn't faking his laughter. Ginny was a funny person.   
During practice I sat in the stands and took notes on the different positions. The only position that I think I would have liked besides Seeker would be Beater. I think I would imagine the ball as Ginny's head.   
While I was watching practice, I was thinking about how I was so happy that I wasn't actually practice. It was a grueling one. Oliver told us that he wanted to win the championship this year and he wasn't playing.  
He was making sure that this team was ready for anything and everything. I did appreciate him for that, but I would much rather be curled up in the common room with a good book.
That sounded much better than watching Ginny and Harry flirt. Anything sounds much better than that.  
She looked absolutely perfect while she was flying around on her broom. She wasn't sweaty at all. There wasn't a single hair out of place on her head.   
"You're scowling. What's wrong?" Hermione asked from beside me. She decided that come down to the quidditch pitch to hang out with me since she was done with all her homework for the day.   
"I'm not scowling Hermione." I grumbled tearing my eyes away from Ginny so that I could look at her.  I was happy to have her here.
"You’re definitely scowling (y/n). You don’t have to talk about what's wrong to me, but don't keep all your emotions bottled up inside. It's not good for you." She calmly replied.
Hermione had always been good at reading me. I knew that she knew what was wrong with me. She wasn't going to force me to say anything, but she knew what was going on in my mind.  
"I know Hermione. I just get so..." I trailed off not really sure how to explain to her how I felt.   
"Jealous." Hermione shrugged as if it wasn't that hard to explain. It wasn’t really. I just didn't want to admit it out loud. "I don’t think you have anything to worry about (y/n). I know Harry likes you.” 
"Nothing to worry about?" I rolled my eyes at her. "Ginny is perfect. She is absolutely perfect and I'm just me."   
"Please don’t say that about yourself (y/n). You're perfect too. You just don’t see yourself the same way that we see you."  
That didn't ease my anger at all. Not even a little bit. Ginny had been making these googly eyes at Harry all practice and I couldn’t take it anymore.  
Once practice was finally over, I angrily shoved into her making sure that I bumped into her shoulder. Hard. She stumbled backwards and fell onto the ground. I smirked as I stomped off towards the castle.  
I needed to go somewhere where I knew that I could be alone. I needed to be alone. I barely made it to the Room of Requirement before I collapsed onto one of the couches sobbing.  
I pulled my knees into my chest and rocked slightly to sooth myself. There was absolutely nothing but silence in the room. The only thing I could hear was the sound of my sniffles.   
Was I not enough for him? I mean I knew I couldn’t compete with her, but that didn't mean he had to rub it in my face. I just needed to accept the fact that I wasn't Ginny Weasley and I never would be.   
"What the hell is wrong with you (y/n)?" Harry practically shouted storming into the room. His angry face was replaced with concern when he saw me balled up on the couch. I tried to respond to him, but I started crying again.   
He slowly walked over to me and sat down. I could hardly see him through my tears. I couldn’t catch my breath.   
"Please tell me what's wrong." He tried to pull me into his arms, but I pushed him away. I didn’t want him touching me right now.   
"Am I just a game to you?" I asked as I angrily wiped away the tears.   
"No (y/n). I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry."   
"Then why?"   
"I just wanted you to know how I felt when I saw you kissing Oliver."   
"You mean to tell me that you toyed with my emotions because you're still stuck on something that happened over a year ago?" I was furious. He leaned forward to comfort me, but I pushed myself away.    
"Yeah." He awkwardly reached up and scratched the back of his neck. "It sounds stupid when you say it like that, but I didn’t think you were going to get so upset over me talking to her."   
"You weren't just talking to her. You two were all over each other." I muttered shaking my head. "I was very jealous. I know it sounds kinda stupid, but I didn't like it."   
"Nothing you say sounds stupid. I'm sorry for making you feel that way."  
"You better not let it happen again."   
Ron: Ravenclaw, muggleborn, year above 
Ron and I had always been close ever since I slapped him. I knew that I shouldn’t have a crush on him. I couldn’t lose him. Nor could I stand his rejection. I was almost positive that he had a thing for Lavender.  
The thing was, he didn’t seem as into her as she was into him. I liked to think that he didn't really like her. He was just being polite. That would be the best case scenario, but life never worked out like that for me.   
After some time, I wasn’t so sure. Seeing the two of them together was a constant reminder of my feelings. I tried to push those feelings away, but it was hard. It was really hard.   
"Hey Ronnie." Came that annoying voice. It was Lavender. "I have a lot of work left for History of Magic. I was wondering if you could help me."   
"What's in it for me?" Ron raised an eyebrow at his fellow Gryffindor.   
"Whatever you want." She suggestively grinned at him causing my jaw to drop. "We can decide on something later tonight."   
Ron sheepishly grinned and began gathering all of his belongings. He quickly shoved them all into his backpack and practically ran behind Lavender out of the common room.   
"Gross." Hermione shuddered before gathering all of her things and heading out of the common room as well. That left me and Harry to talk about all the random things that had gone on in our lives this week.  
Harry and I were no means that close, but I did spend a decent amount of time in their common room because of Hermione. We had become extremely close over the past year. I was proud to say that she was one of my best friends.   
"How do you feel about Ron and Lavender?" Harry asked. I had a feeling that he had been wanting to ask me that for a while.   
"Are they like together together?" I asked testing the waters. "If I'm going to honest, Lavender is not the type of girl I saw him with. I figured him and Hermione would be together by now."   
"Him and Hermione argue way too much for any sort of relationship. Lavender did come out of the blue for me too. I think he's with her because he's trying to get over another girl, but you didn’t hear that from me."   
The following week I managed to catch up with Ron when we both had a free period. Since we weren't in the same year it could be hard to get some time together, but we did have the same free period on Thursdays.   
"How's it going with you and Lavender?" I asked as we stepped outside. We would usually walk around the grounds taking in all the scenery.   
"What do you mean?" He looked confused.   
"Lavender Brown? I thought the two of you were together now."   
"Oh, I wouldn’t go as far as saying that we're together. It's nice to have something warm to snuggle up with in the common room, you know?"   
"Ron Weasley." I stopped walking and grabbed both of his shoulders so that he could look me in the face. "You can't lead her on. That isn't fair. Especially when she thinks that your relationship could be going somewhere."
"I wouldn’t call it leading on (y/n). Besides, I think she's in the same headspace as me. We're not looking for it to go anywhere." He let out a small sigh. "I've been interested in this other girl for a while, but I don’t think she wants anything to do with me."   
He had to be talking about Hermione.   
"That can't be true Ron. Any girl would be lucky to have you. You're a great guy." We started back walking on the path through one of the courtyards.   
"Thanks (y/n)." He darkly chuckled. "I think she just sees me as a friend though. She's never done or said anything to make me think that she was interested."  
"Maybe she's nervous." I suggested. "Or she gets a little shy around you."   
"I don’t think so. She's never nervous or shy around me. It's quite the opposite. Maybe it's time that I move on, you know? Maybe I should try pushing it a little harder with Lavender."   
"No." I immediately shook my head. Ron turned to look at me with wide eyes.   
"No what?"  He raised an eyebrow.
"No. You shouldn’t move on."   
"Is there something you want to tell me (y/n)?" He smirked.  
"No." I grumbled.   
"It's okay. You can say it. You can say that you were jealous."   
"I wasn't jealous Ron." I calmy addressed. "I just don’t think it's fair to Lavender to drag your fling out when you can clearly see that she has feelings for you. You don’t want to lead her on when you have feelings for someone else."   
"Hmm you're right." Ron nodded. We went back on talking about random things for the rest of the walk. Lavender hadn’t been brought back up. We headed back towards the castle when it was time for me to go to Charms class.   
"Bye Ron." I gave him a little wave as I started heading up the stairs.  
"Oh and (y/n)?" He called out to me before I had gotten too far away. I turned around raising my eyebrows to let him know that I was listening. "It's okay to be jealous."   
Draco: Ravenclaw, pureblood, year below 
This was new to her. She had taken one too many shots of fire whisky and now she was dancing on top of one of the common room tables.
(y/n) was not used to all the attention, but in this moment she had all eyes on her. Nobody was complaining though. It was nice to see the girl who was usually so shy and tame having a little bit of fun.  
Tonight everyone was celebrating the end of OWLS. Even though it was only the 5th years that took them, everyone got to enjoy the perks of the parties.  
Little did (y/n) know, Draco was paying very close attention to her. He had never seen her drunk before so this was new to him as well.   
Draco didn't dance. Not one bit. So he had found a spot in the corner of the room where he would be able to watch (y/n).
Her hips swayed to the music and it looked as if she was having a really good time. Watching her dance on an elevated surface was something Draco could get used to.   
He sat there for a while sipping his drink and enjoying the show. He didn't really like being the center of attention so this was perfect for him.  Everything about this night had gone perfect. That was until he saw Pansy Parkinson making his way towards her. He tried to look away from her, but she managed to catch his gaze.  
Pansy sat down on the couch beside him and tried to smile seductively at him. Sure, Pansy was a pretty girl, but he had absolutely no interest in her.   
"How's your night going Draco?" She sweetly asked.  
"It's going fine." He replied. He wanted to be short with his responses, but still polite. "How is yours going Pancy?"   
"Mine is going really well. Thank you for asking."  
"That's good Pansy."   
"I don’t understand why (y/n) thinks it's a good idea to dance on the table. And then she's got that tiny dress on. It’s like she wants everyone to look at her."   
"You know (y/n) isn’t like that." Draco coldly replied. He wasn’t going to let Pansy disrespect her. "She's just having a little bit of fun. She deserves it. Especially after all those hours she spent helping us study for OWLS. She didn't have to do that."   
Pansy started talking, but Draco zoned out. He didn’t really care what Pansy had to say about (y/n). He was just happy that she was loosening up a little bit. As he was watching her, he noticed her eyes angrily narrow at Pansy.  
Was that jealously he detected? He didn't think that (y/n) would ever be jealous of Pansy. She had absolutely no reason to be. But he knew that face. It was the face he made whenever he saw (y/n) talking to Ron Weasley.  
It was the face of jealously. Maybe he could use Pansy to his advantage to see if (y/n) felt the same way about him.   
He knew that he had (y/n)'s attention when she stopped dancing and had her gaze firmly fixed on the two of them. He leaned into Pansy acting as if he was extremely interested in what she had to say. He would make sure to touch her and chuckle at everything she was saying. Draco knew that he had (y/n)'s undivided attention.   
(y/n) reached up and began weaving her hands through her hair. Her hips were swaying perfectly with the music as she maintained eye contact with the blonde. She ran her hands down her body making sure that the dance was more sensual than it had been before.   
Damn, Draco could get used to seeing a drunk and jealous (y/n).   
Pansy placed her hand on his forearm. He wanted to shake her away, but he noticed that (y/n) had hopped down from the table and was now making her way over to the two of them.   
"Come dance with me Draco." She had her hands firmly placed on her hips. Even though it was a request, she wasn’t asking.   
"Can't you see that he's a little busy?" Pansy spoke up.   
"I want to dance Draco." (y/n) was speaking to Draco, but she was looking at Pansy. Pansy stared right back at (y/n). She wasn't just going to back down.   
"Your wish is my command." He sheepishly grinned and wrapped an arm around (y/n)'s waist pulling her to the middle of the common room. They left behind a stunned looking Pansy.   
"What was that (y/n)?" He smirked as her spun her around and she pressed up against his body. The two of them began moving to the music. The both of them knew that Pansy was watching so they wanted to give her a good show.  
"I didn’t like the way she was all up on you." (y/n) huffed.   
"Hmm do I detect a hint of jealousy?"   
"No. You detect a lot of jealousy."   
George: Slytherin, halfblood, same year 
Once the sound of clanging pots and pans drifted up to my bedroom, I knew it was time to get out of the bed. I was never awaken this way at my house, but I came to love the sounds at the Weasley household.  
As I got out of bed and tried to make myself look more presentable, the smell of bacon began wafting up the stairs. There was no food in the word that came anywhere close to Molly Weasley's cooking.   
I finally climbed out of the warm bed and slipped a hoodie on over my tank top. I headed downstairs to see that I was the last one to make my way to the kitchen. Everyone else had gathered in the living room to wait for Molly to finish up cooking.   
"Good morning  sleeping beauty. Nice of you to join on." George joked looking over in my direction.   
"You were up there so long I thought you had died." Fred added on. I rolled my eyes and flipped off the twins. The first time I did that, the twins didn't understand the gesture. It came from my Muggle side. Once they learned what it meant, it was something we did to each other all the time.   
When breakfast was done cooking, Molly called all of us into the kitchen. I got ready to sit down beside George, but not before Hermione could slip into the seat before I could. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.  
I always sat in this seat beside George. I shrugged it off and took the seat across the table from him which was beside Ron. I didn't mind sitting by Ron at all. It was just weird because she was the one who usually sat by Ron.  
Hermione and Ginny instantly began talking about celebrities from the Muggle world. Hermione had brought pictures to show Ginny. I mostly just listened to their conversation, but I would give some input every now and then. I think a lot of people forgot that my mom was a Muggle, so I was familiar with a lot of these things.   
"So Hermione," Ginny gushed, "What are you looking for in a partner?"   
"I've always wanted someone who could make me laugh. They need to be a kind person as well. You know that I'm not obsessed with looks, it's more about personality for me. But it wouldn’t hurt if they're nice to look at, you know? I would also like them to be taller than me which shouldn’t be too hard since I'm not the tallest person."
"Hmm sounds like you just described me." George interjected bringing all the attention to him. Hermione clearly blushed and looked away from the beaming redhead.  
I felt my fist clenching and I had to force myself to finish the rest of my breakfast. If I didn’t, Molly was sure to ask what was wrong. I didn’t feel like explaining to her that I was jealous of another girl who I would be living with for the next couple of weeks.   
Once breakfast was over, the boys and Ginny decided that they wanted to play Quidditch. It was snowing outside so it was pretty cold. I made sure to put on extra socks. I hated when my toes got cold.  
Hermione made her way over to a spot on the porch so she could read a book she had just gotten, but still pay attention to the game happening above. I would be the referee for their little match.   
They had been playing for a little while and I watched as George flew down and landed beside Hermione. He said something to her, but I was too far away to hear. They exchanged a couple of words and George quickly ran inside. After a couple of moments, he came back out with one of his knitted sweaters that he always got for Christmas.  
It was one of the signature knitted sweaters from Molly. Why was he giving it to Hermione? She immediately pulled it on over her head and gave George the biggest smile ever.   
I felt myself shaking with rage. He didn't even ask if I was cold. I told everyone that I had to go to the bathroom and headed towards the house. George called after me, but I just kept walking.   
I tried to quickly walk upstairs to the bathroom, but I was no match to his long strides. I managed to get to the bathroom and almost slam the door, but he caught ahold of it.   
"What are you doing?" I hissed trying to pull it shut. "I need to use the bathroom."   
"Not before you tell me what's wrong."   
"Nothing is wrong George. I just need to pee."   
"You've been pouting all morning. Something is clearly wrong with you."   
"I'm fine." I said trying to keep my voice from rising. I didn't feel like explaining myself to him. He cocked his head to the side studying my face. "What?" I questioned. 
"I just want to know what is going on in that pretty little head of yours."   
"What is going on between you and Hermione?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.   
"Nothing is going on between us." He threw his head back and laughed.  
"What about the conversation this morning? About you claiming to be her type and then getting a sweater for her. You could've gotten her any sweater, but of course you get her one with a G on it. As if you were claiming her."   
"If you want me to claim you darling, all you have to do is ask." He smirked causing my face to heat up under his gaze. "I was trying to get a rile out of you this morning and about the sweater, she was just cold. You don’t have to worry about anything. I only have eyes for you." He leaned down and planted a kiss on my forehead. "Have a nice pee."   
He turned away from me and walked back down the hallway. I had forgotten all about going to the bathroom.  
Fred: Gryffindor, pureblood, 2 years below (same as Trio) 
"I just heard that Hannah Abbott is going to Hogsmeade with Fred tonight." Hermione angrily ran her hands through her thick hair. She was practically ranting to Harry and I. "I don’t understand what he sees in her. I mean he's got a perfectly good girl who is practically in love with him, but he doesn’t care. Not one bit. I mean what does he even see in Hannah? She can’t even hold a candle to you (y/n)."   
"Hold on Hermione. Let's take a minute and think about what you just said. I'm not in love with Fred." I jokingly rolled my eyes at her. Sure, I was a little hurt. I thought that Fred and I had something going on, but maybe he decided to move on because I hadn't expressed my feelings towards him.  
"It's okay to admit your feelings (y/n). I see the way you look at him. Please don't make the same mistake as me and take too long to say how you feel." Hermione lovingly placed a hand on top of mine. I knew that she had been feeling a little down lately.   
I had a feeling that Fred was teasing me. We had been playing this game of cat and mouse for years. But what could I say to him? If I said what I really wanted to say, I had a feeling that he would laugh in my face and leave with Hannah on their date.   
I decided that I needed to tell him. I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t. I was tired of being this jealous girl who was scared to admit her feelings. When he came down the stairs to leave for his date, I stopped him.   
"Where are you going?" I stood in front of him blocking his path. I was done with this silly little game the two of us had been playing for the past couple of years.   
"I'm just going out with a friend. Why? Is there something you need (y/n)?"   
"No." I shook my head trying to figure out exactly what I wanted to say to him. I awkwardly rocked back and forth on my heels. I should have thought about this before I corralled him in our common room. "I was just wondering. I heard you were going on a date."    
"I mean, I guess you could call it a date. Look (y/n), I can see that something is on your mind. Can we continue this conversation when I get back? I've got to meet her and I don't want to keep her waiting."  
"Sure Fred. Have fun." I nodded stepping out of his way so that he could walk around me. I have him a small wave as he quickly walked out of the common room. Every fiber in my being was screaming for me to stop him. To tell him that I was right here waiting on him. I didn’t want him to go on that date with Hannah. It should be me that he was taking out on a date. I slowly walked back over to my seat on the couch.   
"I'm sorry Hermione." I mumbled as tears were threatening to tumble down my cheeks. "I just froze. I didn’t know what to say to him.   
"You don’t have to apologize to me. I froze so many times when I wanted to tell him how I felt. You could always wait until he comes back and talk to him."  
"I just don’t know what I would even say. What if he hates me?"   
"He could never hate you (y/n)." Hermione gave me a supportive smile before standing up and leaving me on the couch to think about what I wanted to say when he came back. I only sat there for about an hour or so until Fred got back.  
I had been going over how I expected this conversation to go in my mind. Let's just say that my guesses of how this conversation was going to go weren't very good.   
"Hey, (y/n)." I heard Fred say as he walked in. I had decided that I was just going to go for it. I had nothing to lose at this point. "I didn’t forget that you wanted to talk about something." He walked over to the couch and plopped down beside me. He casually tossed an arm on couch beside me. "So what's up?"   
"Well how was your date?" I asked trying to ease into the conversation.  
"It was okay." He shrugged. "It was nice to get out of Hogwarts for a little while, but it wasn’t anything spectacular."   
"Who was the date with?"   
"It was with Hannah Abbott. I think you know her."   
"I do know Hannah." I sadly nodded. She seemed perfect for Fred to go on a date with. I'm sure they had an amazing time and he was just saying these things to keep my feelings from being hurt.  
"Did you ask her? Or did she ask you? Or was this more of a mutual thing?"   
"I mean she instigated it, but it was a pretty mutual thing. Is everything alright (y/n)?"  
"Yes."   
"No it isn't. I can tell by the look on your face that everything isn't okay." He gently took my face in his hands so that I could look him in the face. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"   
"Yes I know." I shyly looked away. "Honestly Fred, I didn't want you to go on a date with Hannah."   
"Why not?" Fred raised an eyebrow.   
"I think you know why." I mumbled.  
"Please enlighten me." He was grinning now. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Now he was just teasing me. He knew exactly why I didn’t want him on that date. This might be my only chance to say something. But at the same time, I didn't want to be a game to him. "Just say it (y/n)."   
"Okay fine." I stood up so that I could run away if I needed to. "Please don’t go on another date with Hannah Abbott. Actually Fred, I don’t want you to go on a date with anyone else."  
"Were you jealous (y/n)?" He smirked.  
"You’re really going to make me spell it out for you." I grumbled rolling my eyes.   
"No, I don't need you to do that. I'm going to honest with you, the date wasn't that good. So uh, (y/n), would you like to go on a date with me? I would hate to see you jealous again. Even though you were pretty cute."  
Cedric: Hufflepuff, muggleborn, same year 
For this one can we please pretend that Cedric didn't die during the Triwizard Tournament. Please and thank you. 
I was furious. I had never been the jealous type, but lately Cedric had me feeling emotions that I had never felt before. My eyes narrowed at the very pretty Ravenclaw who was straight up flirting with Cedric. It’s not like I could be upset or anything. I wasn't even dating the guy.   
So why did I feel envious when I saw them talking? I was bitter and spiteful. Cedric was someone who bounced between the line of friendly and flirtatious. I wanted to walk right over to him, grab his tie, and force my lips onto his.  
At times it felt like he was interested in me. And at other times it felt like he just saw me as a friend. Why were boys so confusing? If you want me why wouldn’t you just say so? It’s not that hard.   
After winning the Triwizard Tournament, Cedric became even more popular at Hogwarts. He had all these girls throwing themselves at him, but Cedric was not someone who liked to play with girl's emotions.   
I knew that he was really busy with all the interviews he was having to do after winning. He was having to be extremely careful with any girls that he was seen talking to. Cedric told me that's why he had distanced himself from me these past couple of weeks.   
We were very good friends and he didn't want the Daily Prophet or Rita Skeeter to turn our relationship into something it's not. Rita Skeeter had done enough digging into his personal life.   
I appreciated Cedric for wanting to protect me, but would it be so bad if people did think we were together in that way? I mean maybe that would keep a certain raven-haired beauty from touching all over my man.
Well, he didn’t know that he was my man, but he was my man.   
Cedric was obviously trying to keep Cho Chang at a distance from him. He was looking at her as if she was only a friend, but she wasn't taking the hint. Cedric was too much of a gentleman to do much about it though. He graciously accepted her compliments and politely smiled when she flirted with him. I wanted to scream.   
I had seen enough of this and they were both going to hear about it from me.   
"How desperate can you be Chang?" I grumbled walking by her. I didn’t stop walking. Instead, I kept walking by her as if I hadn't said anything. She scowled looking towards me. Cedric chuckled and gave me this amused looked.  
"Is there something you want to say (l/n)?" She spat. I didn't expect her to respond and I whipped around glaring at her. 
"Not really, I was just trying to give you some advice. You're a pretty girl, but even you can't make desperation look good."   
"Oh please don't tell me that you've caught feelings." She threw her head back and laughed.  
"No." My eyes narrowed at her. "I just know an attention seeking whore when I see one."   
"(y/n)." Cedric scolded and lightly began dragging me way from her. "That wasn't very nice of you."   
"Oh well." I shrugged grinning at the look on Cho Chang's face as we left.   
"I've never seen you like this (y/n)." He stopped walking and stared down at me.   
"Seen me how?" I raised an eyebrow. My expression told him to tread lightly.   
"Jealous." He instantly replied.  
"I was not jealous. I just wanted Chang to have more respect for herself. She was practically begging for you to take her upstairs to your bedroom."   
"It was harmless flirting (y/n)." He chuckled.   
"It was anything but harmless."   
"I really like this jealous side of you. I hope to see it again." He jokingly pinched my side.   
"I won't be so nice to her next time." I grumbled swatting his hand away.  
"And I wouldn’t have it any other way."   
975 notes · View notes
shadowbriar · 2 years
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Fred Weasley - Stuck on the Puzzle
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Pairing : (F/M) || Fred Weasley x Reader Word Count : 2.0k Warning : Drinking. Harsh language. Angst. Notes :  Inspired by Stuck on the Puzzle by Alex Turner. Having arrived late to the mansion after every attempt of stalling time, Fred finally gathered his last fragment of courage and joined the pre-wedding party, keeping in mind to drink every cocktail on sight so that he’ll be hammered enough tomorrow to skip the wedding.
The mansion was filled with familiar faces and though he’s been surrounded with people he’d proudly call as family, Fred’s heart is still hung heavy. The alcohol on his hand helped nothing to ease his mind, only acting as a catalyst to the thunder blaring and heavy storm plaguing his mind. He wishes to leave the place. Apparate himself back to his loft and hide under his worn and full of holes blanket until the end of the month comes.
He would never forget how he could physically hear the sound of his heart dropping, shattering into a million pieces as the periwinkle envelope arrived at his doorstep. He recognises the comforting colour and how the paper was decorated with all sorts of flowers she’d once told him were her favourites. Her name was written proudly on the cover, along with another man’s.
It was her wedding invitation letter.
Fred wasn’t sure he’d be able to hoard so much hatred for himself until that day. Every what-if scenario was crushing his brain to a pulp. What if he’d asked her first for the Yule Ball? What if he didn’t get a cold feet that weekend before the Hogsmeade trip in 5th year? What if he didn’t hesitate and ask to sit next to her during their classes? What would happen then if he had just an ounce more of bravery? Would his name be the one standing next to her on their wedding invitations?
Everyday since he had to fight the irrepressible urge to burn said invitation. The sight of the innocent letter laying on his table was driving him mad. He wanted to shatter it into pieces, throw it into a bucket of thousand firecrackers, and bury the ash in a place where he would never return to. But the thought of disappointment on her face to have him be absent on such a special day haunts him. He needed to be there, even if it meant he would pulverise the last remaining strains of his fraying soul.
And so here he is, with George physically and mentally acting as his sole pillar of support, Fred puts on his best suit and most believable facade, acting like he’s happy for the couple. He dreaded the next two days. Having arrived late to the mansion after every attempt of stalling time, Fred finally gathered his last fragment of courage and joined the pre-wedding party, keeping in mind to drink every cocktail on sight so that he’ll be hammered enough tomorrow to skip the wedding.
 “You seem to never grow out of your partying self, Freddie.” Alicia comments, noticing the empty glass he swaps with a new one every other minute “Years after school and you still act like the animal you are.”
Fred shrugs, chugging his drink before lifting the empty glass, “Cheers for the couple.”
The people surrounding him were starting to eye him in pity. It was common knowledge for the small group of friends that Fred was in love with her. Her name remains the only one name ever rolled off his mouth with such delight and adoration. The way his eyes sparkled whenever she was mentioned or how silly he would play during Quidditch practice whenever she watches. The fixation he had for her was enough to fuel a lifetime romance.
“Alright, that’s enough.” Angelina interrupts before Fred could take another glass from the server “You’ll be dead pissed before we get the chance to greet the couple.”
“That’s the mission, Darling.” Fred winks, drinking George’s drink instead.
Not a minute passed and the said couple finally came out of the mansion. The noises died down as every eye turned and watched the lovebirds with glee. Smiles were decorating every guest’s faces, including Fred’s. The sight of her after what seems to be forever felt like a long awaited rain after a drought. She’s still as beautiful as he last remembered her. If anything, even more charming now with her mature posture and a touch of makeup, enhancing every delicate feature she has.
Fred’s breath was taken away as their eyes met. Her smile turns wider as she waves her hand at him, looking grateful and beyond happy to see him there. And just with that trivial moment, Fred’s worry and dismay evaporates into thin air. For the first time since he arrived, he was glad to have come to the party.
His quest to get plastered tonight has now been aborted. If there is just a slight chance for them to exchange a word, he would want it to happen with his mind completely clear. He’d want to memorise every giggle, the crinkles around her eyes whenever she smiles, and the pleasant voice of hers when she calls his name. He wants to keep every detail of her and have it engraved in his head for after tonight, he would have to bid his last goodbye to her.
“Fred,” Her melodious voice calls from behind “You came.”
Her smile was intoxicating, making his head spin and chest filled with warmth that he could only reply with a nod and a smile he hopes isn’t freaking her out.
“I’ve missed you.” She says, coming in with an open arm as she pulls him for a hug “It’s been so long since I last saw you.”
Fred couldn’t utter a word. He rests his head to the crook of her neck, praying that he could pack away this very moment and have it hidden under his bed. The smell of her perfume and body heat was melting him. The void forming in his chest the moment she lets go would be the nightmare that’ll haunt him for the rest of his life.
“You’re awfully quiet.” She says with a chuckle “Did you drink the wrong tonic or something?”
He shakes his head, smiling, “Just basking the moment before you’re finally gone tomorrow.”
“Oh, come on, now. You’re talking like I’m about to die.” She rolls her eyes, playfully nudging on his shoulder “I’m not gonna die tomorrow, Freddie. I’m just getting married.”
Fred smiles. Just getting married. As if that wasn’t something he should be grieving about. The word came out of her with such ease, not realising the heavy earthquake it’s giving to his tottering heart. If only she knew all the torments she’d unconsciously made him go through, would she still be as cheerful as she is right now?
“Congratulations.” Fred says, forcing a smile “Flint is a one lucky bastard.”
For a second there Fred thought that he’d seen a glimpse of sadness on her eyes. The kind of bitterness you have when you watch the person you love letting go. But as instant as it came, the emotion was swapped back into her default merriment that Fred had to convince himself that he was just seeing things. The alcohol might be taking its toll on him.
“Thank you, Fred.” She replied, her hand still clinging on his forearm “I’m parched. Would you accompany me to get some drinks? I’m feeling rather tired to greet and have small talk with other guests, so can you please be my wingman?”
Fred nods, following her step to get away from the crowd and into the champagne table.
The redhead boy no longer cared for the fact that people could see him staring. He’s thrown out his self-respect out the window. If people want to talk about the longing gaze and how pathetic he’s looking right now, he’ll let them. Let the whole world know the fool who’s been loving the girl for so long yet never had the courage to let her know that she’s now finally with another.
“Is there something on my face?” She asks, anxiously touching her face.
Fred shakes his head, “No, you’re just so beautiful tonight.”
“Oh, come on now, don’t be such a flirt.” She rolls her eyes, cheeks tainted with redness “Had you said that to me a couple years earlier we would’ve been the one getting married.”
The smile on is face diluted. She said it with such a remote manner yet the side eye she gave as she gulped another glass of champagne made him question her intention. Those aren’t the things you said to someone casually, especially not at the night before your wedding. Could her words hold any more meaning than the aloof gesture she’s showing?
“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.” Marcus said, disregarding the fact that she was standing with Fred “We’ve got guests to greet, why are you pissing yourself by the champagne table?”
Fred wanted to take Marcus right there and then. How could he say such words to the girl who deserves the world. The lack of affection he’s shown to her has always made Fred question, what does Flint have that made him the one she surrendered her heart to? Did she even want him to be the one she marries?
“I was just getting some drinks, I’ll be right out in a minute.” She says with a forced smile, attempting to plant a kiss to her fiancé's cheek but failing miserably as he dismisses her and walks back out, not sparing a glance to Fred.
“Why are you marrying him?” Fred asks, the boiling anger in his head slowly taking the best of him “He’s a vile man, Marcus Flint. We used to make fun of him from all the stupid things he’d done and you would always scold me whenever we got in a fight. Why are you marrying the man you said you’d hate for life?”
She remains quiet, eyes locked on him as if she’s trying to convey a message her lips couldn’t deliver. There was regret, guilt, and despair evident on them. How her shoulders shuddered in an attempt to contain her welling tears was tearing him apart. He wanted to rescue her, take her hand and leave the party. Rescue her and hide her under his wing from the life she certainly doesn't deserve if she were to marry Flint. She’s supposed to marry someone who would worship her, someone who would bleed themselves to death for her, and Marcus Flint is certainly not that man.
But who was he kidding? Sure she deserves someone better than Flint but does that mean the man is himself? He couldn’t even ask her out for a silly date. What makes him think he’ll have the balls to kidnap her from her own wedding?
“People are complex beings, Freddie. Marcus isn’t always as cold as how he reacted just now. He’s just feeling stressed over the wedding.” She says at last, struggling to find an excuse for her fiancé's rude actions “I better get back and greet the guests. It’ll be bad for the family if people begin to talk about the bride’s disappearance.”
Placing her empty glass to the table, she reaches for Fred’s cheek and kisses it gently. The sigh she let go as her lips parted from his skin was dragging him deeper to the trench of desolation. With one last smile, she squeezes his forearm and begins walking away.
Fred watches as her figure soon disappear in the sea of people. A thousand questions running across his head at the same time. What’s to do now? What's he supposed to do now that he’s seen it firsthand that she isn’t getting the fairytale she very much deserves? And what is left of him to do after she defends her despicable fiancé?
What is it that Marcus had that made her stay? Was it because of his name and luxury? No, she isn’t the type to trade love for money, that couldn’t be the reason. Was it because of their family? She did mention how badly it would reflect on them if she were to show just a flaw tonight. So was that the true answer?
Fred takes one of the champagne glasses, gulping down the liquid before tossing the glass away with no regard. The mystery and scenarios screaming at each other in his brain were dementing. For the millionth of time, Fred Weasley has found himself stuck on the puzzle.
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leahsflwer · 10 days
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Slytherin Master list -
Gryffindor Master List -
Hufflepuff Master List -
Ravenclaw Master List -
Marauders master list -
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girlunknownsblog · 2 years
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What would be the style of Harry Potter boys in the muggle world :
Harry Potter :
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Ronald Weasley :
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Fred Weasley :
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Georges Weasley :
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Neville Longobottom :
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Oliver Wood :
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Draco Malfoy :
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Blaise Zabini :
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Cedric Diggory :
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̶˚ · . . · ˚˚ · . . · ˚˚ · . . · ˚˚ · . . · ˚˚ · . . · ˚˚ · . . · ˚˚ · . . · ˚˚ · . . ·
I think I will redo tickets with outfits.
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graceloveswolves · 2 years
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Imagines/Headcanons
__________________
Twilight
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Marvel
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Teen Wolf
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The Hunger Games
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Harry Potter
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Supernatural
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The Walking Dead
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The Umbrella Academy
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writerbaby · 2 years
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Harry Potter Preferences PT.2
Your best friend
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Harry; Neville
Ron; Ginny
Draco; Luna
Fred; Cedric
George; Draco
Oliver; Ron
Neville; Luna
Hermoine; Harry
Luna; Luna
Tom; Narcissa
Mattheo; Harry
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lithiumfae · 1 year
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nsfw headcanons | weasley twins, harry, ron and draco.
warning: filth, don’t blame me.
❥ george weasley.
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experienced. this man has slept his way through all the houses, he tends to go for hufflepuffs.
he is the type of guy that guides you through it, no teasing.
he seems like the type of guy that’s into oral sex (he prefers receiving). he is also into LOUD sex, he will try his hardest to make his partner scream just to shush her right after.
“keep it down, they’re gonna hear you” said with a straight face.
he likes to be in control without being a don.
i see him as more of an ass man…
he totally goes for tall girls, there’s just something about a woman close to his height that does it for him.
the type to ask “mmm?” with a fake sad face mocking his partner when she moans too loud.
favourite position: doggy.
❥ fred weasley.
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also experienced. everyone is aware of this because he WONT shut up about it.
he likes to poke fun if his partner is not savvy enough, jokes, jokes and more jokes.
he’s into short people because that makes it easier to, you guessed it, make fun of them.
this man will ask the nastiest question the human brain could conjugate in front of everyone.
“have you ever done it prone bone?” next is the sound of everyone’s spoons hitting the floor as their mouths hang open.
if the phrase red flag was a person it would be him, but we are all blind i guess. will occasionally go for the girl george finds hot just to prove a point.
boob man 100%
he loves to give oral, he loves how shy girls get when he smiles up at them.
favourite position: standing.
❥ harry potter.
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he was a virgin for the longest time and it shows.
he loves making out, sometimes you think he prefers it over sex.
he flushes all the way down to his chest, rosy patches on his pale skin.
he is on the submissive side, he loves being marked.
he asks for hickies. he likes the ones that can be seen.
he prefers taller people too, the type of dude to have a crush on Lady Dimitrescu.
eye contact. he looks at you with his eyes and mouth wide open, he pants and nods his head asking a silent question.
“yes?”
when he’s getting a blowjob he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, he’ll have them in the air clenching and unclenching a fist, trying so hard not to pull your hair.
the type of dude to say thank you lmaooooo
boob man too.
favorite position: cowgirl. DEFINITELY.
❥ ron weasley.
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red flag personified part 2.
he’s such a jealous man but he won’t let you know until you’re having sex and you notice he refuses to kiss you.
he likes it rough and fast but he can somehow go for the next round not even 15 minutes after the first one.
stamina?????? hello?????
he likes to finger girls because it allows him to look at their faces and focus on the expressions they make.
he’s definitely shagged half the gryffindor tower but none of the girls brag about it??? he’s lowkey sad about it but also their loss yk what i mean.
sometimes he cries when he cums. it’s a little pathetic but it’s ron so it’s okay.
he gets off by having sex with slytherin girls, his ego loves it.
the type of dude to get into an enemies to lovers kind of deal.
“yeah? aren’t you embarrassed getting fucked by the bloke you hate?”
definitely into humiliation and degradation.
ass man.
favourite position: good old missionary.
❥ draco malfoy.
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for all his mean bravado he is actually quite the gentleman.
if anyone out of these 5 men knows where the clit is it would definitely be him.
he likes it rough but not fast.
he is totally a dom but he is definitely not aware he is one, he doesn’t even know that those dynamics have names.
likes to pull girls’ hair to make them focus, he’ll even do it outside the bedroom. if you’re distracted while he’s telling you something at lunch he’ll pull your ponytail.
he is also into giving oral, opposite to fred he does it because HE likes it.
boobs boobs boobs boobs, oh how he loves boobs.
has a weak spot for girls with round faces.
“oh i’m so sorry love, such a pretty face stained with tears” all said with a very soft voice almost as if he was truly sorry.
he likes it wet, wet to the point where it sounds filthy.
favourite position: sideways or spooning.
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apparentlytheproblem · 8 months
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s w e a t e r w e a t h e r
fandom- Harry Potter
pairing(s)- Draco Malfoy
a/n: so this one is based on a situation I've been in which had me bawling, crying and literally dying. I also saw something similar on Pinterest and I thought why not? requests are always open, love, teddy
requested- yes
warnings- none i hope
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You found yourself in the edge of the black lake sprawled on a fuzzy blanket with all sorts of delights, giggling and laughing with a blonde Slytherin over something absolutley preposterous, the idea or to be more specific, the rumors between you and a Malfoy.
The evening was crisp already, the last of sunset just a fading pale stripe in the sky. Evening shadows deepened into blue and purple. the wind was icy and withering, it sent chills down your back.
"c'mon, its almost time for bed luv"
love. love? did he just call me love? am I okay?
"yeah, let's head back" you assented.
a cold wind swept past the both of you, Draco's eyes bumped together in a scowl and his nystagmic eyes hadn't missed anything. All he was waiting for was an ask and maybe a pretty please too.
"would it be alright if i borrow your sweater?"
their eyes my god, as if I'd say no, fuckin damn
"it would be more than alright sweetheart"
fuck. sweetheart? is he tryna kill me? what does he want? oh god
His fingers gripped the ends of the sweater covering his abdomen and quickly pulled his sweater of green and silver and handed it to her.
it was loose to say the least, but you loved it almost as much as he loved seeing you in it. it smelt of mahogany apples which he loved so much.
Draco towered over, trying to roll the sleeves for you, and grabbed your palm and began to walk as if he wasn't absolutley panicking inside.
"it smells like you"
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wynt3rrr · 1 year
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NSFW: how they kiss
(GIF EDITION)
fandom: harry potter
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harry potter:
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hermione granger:
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ron weasley:
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draco malfoy:
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luna lovegood:
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george weasley:
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fred weasley:
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362 notes · View notes
witchthewriter · 1 year
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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  
a/n: thank you to the anon who requested this, it was such a unique idea! If you have any more, I would love it!!!
Warnings: Mentions of death, killing, curses, swears, blood
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ        
𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿    
𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲: Followed by Death Eaters at the height of Voldemort’s power, you’re both cornered with no way out. You thought you had no choice but to fight to the death, and that meant using an Unforgiveable Curse. *For Draco’s, the roles are reversed and snatchers/werewolves/vampires are trying to kill you*
𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞
・Looks at you differently but swears he’s fine with your decision
・You can feel the shift though, and after a few weeks of this awkward tension, you bring it up
   “George, can we talk?”
“Sure, what’s up?” He barely looks up from the parchment he’s writing on. 
    “George, George-” You walk over and take the quill from his hands
“Oi-” 
    “Look at me!” 
He stares up at you for a few beats and you nearly die inside. He’s never looked at you like that before. 
  “Yes?” Was all he could say. 
“Do you still love me?” 
  Your heart shattered at his response. 
・After the Battle of Hogwarts you found each other again, and George dropped to his knees and apologised. Because now he understood. 
𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐚
・Nonjudgemental. 
・You were harder on yourself than she was, than anyone was. 
    “You did what you had to,” she said in her high-pitched, flowy voice
・And when you kept beating yourself up, she plucked a flower from a nearby bush and put it behind your ear
    “Hmmm, still as beautiful as you were before.”
・Your heart leapt and you knew she still saw you as the person you were before. 
・And you thought others would make fun of you for it, call you out on it, but no one did. Not a single person. From fear, from understanding, from not caring. Whatever it was, you had worried for nothing. 
𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝
・Felt a little inferior to you
・Like his partner was cooler than he was
・It wasn’t until George pointed out the severity of it that Fred ... saw you as even ... cooler x2
   “They did something that barely anyone has the guts to do. I’m proud I’m with someone so brave.”
・Isn’t so stupid that he makes jokes about it though 
・But he does make a few to lighten the mood whenever it’s brought up in a group setting 
𝐂𝐡𝐨
・Bit of a similar mindset to Ron actually, and because of her open mind Cho thought you acted appropriately 
  “Thank you for protecting us.”
・The fact that you did that curse doesn’t change how she sees you 
・Because Cho is one of those people who sees others as grey - she understands that not everything is black and white. People are multidimensional, and if anything, she feels a deep sense of gratitude.
・Almost like you sacrificed an innocent part of yourself to make sure that others were safe 
・Which is actually very brave 
𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲
・You did something that he wanted to do for years 
・So he was in a mixed mind - both awed and jealous 
・But he isn’t mad, or upset with you. He doesn’t see you any differently either. 
・Harry has experienced horrible things since his childhood - thanks to the Dursleys, and if many times he’s imagined performing a few on them (he wouldn’t actually do it though). 
・Has a feeling that you won’t be the only one having to perform those curses 
・And like Ginny, he believes you’re on the good side, so you aided the side of good
𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞
・She gets upset
・Because she always wants to be a few steps ahead
・So the fact that you had to perform an Unforgivable Curse meant she wasn’t on the ball
・She apologises to you, and sobs in your lap. She loves you so much and never wants you to experience such horrible things. You console her, and probably cry yourself.
・So ... in a way she sees it as her making you do that
・But you remind her that she can’t be perfect all the time, and you make your own choices 
・She says what happened can just stay between the two of you if you wanted 
𝐑𝐨𝐧
・Thought you did what you had to, and doesn’t judge you for it. Not at all.
・He would’ve done the same, if it weren’t for your quick actions
・When others judge you for it, he defends you
     “You’d be dead if they didn’t act, you should be grateful!” 
・Found your forward-thinking...kinda sexy
・In his head he’s like ‘Yeah! That’s my baby! She/He/They’ll fuck you up!”
・It makes him feel safer around you actually, he knows you’d do whatever you have to to keep both you and him safe
𝐆𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐲
・Was grateful that you acted as quickly as you did
・What she most felt was curiosity- why you decided to use that particular curse, where did it come from, and had you been thinking about it a lot?
・So for many days, she asked a million questions 
・You never felt belittled or judged by her though
・Because she’s definitely chaotic good. 
・And she believes you’re both on the good side of this war, so you took out one of the bad guys
・If anyone gives you shit for it, then she OBLITERATES them
・Gives you great advice: 
     “What we do trying to survive doesn’t define who we are.”
𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞
・The most bothered by it
・ It really, really bothered him
・Because of his parents, Neville despises Unforgivable Curses
・He understands why you chose to do it, but it still made him sick to his stomach
・Neville’s perception of you changed from that day on. He associated you with something darker 
・Your relationship took a toll
・And Neville was extremely distant
・You apologised but stood by your decision to use that particular curse. You saved both yours and Neville’s lives
・After some time he understood it, but still he saw you as a different person
・But he still loved you, and got to know that new way of perceiving you 
𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨
・The second least bothered out of the group by it
・He’s heard many Unforgivable Curses in his lifetime due to his family members (i.e., his father & Aunt Bellatrix)
・Is still a tad shocked because you were supposed to be the more moral person out of the two of you
   “It deserved it,” Draco sneered, spitting on the dead corpse of the vampire
・You earned a bit of a reputation - people were way more intimidated by you now. And Draco loves it. 
・Now you both have a name for yourselves that people associate with fear
・But after the Battle of Hogwarts, things changed. So completely and incessantly. 
・With Voldemort defeated and Draco’s new perspective, he now saw what you meant
・He hated his father, he hated his upbringing but he hated how obsessed he was with seeming ... evil
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nadinebrooks · 2 years
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Here is the link to my masterlist.
His First Thoughts When He Sees You
Harry: Gryffindor, halfblood, same year
That girl over there is staring at me. I wonder if she can tell that I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing here. That would be super embarrassing if she can tell. She has an owl too. Maybe I should just ask her where I'm supposed to be going. She very pretty, but I don't even know how to start up a conversation with her. Now she's walking toward me. Is she really coming over to speak to me? Now she's talking and I'm just grinning like an idiot. Stop smiling Harry.
Ron: Ravenclaw, muggleborn, year above
Why is this girl yelling at me? I don't think I've ever met her before. I would remember if I met someone that looked like her. Did I do something wrong lately? I'm always doing something wrong so it wouldn't surprise me. Maybe she should stop yelling. I'm sure she would look a whole lot prettier if she just smiled. This is new. Girls like that don't usually talk to me even if it is yelling. Fred and George are going to lose their shit when they hear about this.
Draco: Slytherin, pure, year below
I remember my first time here when everything was so new. She looks like a first year. Her robes are a little too long and she has way too many books in that backpack of hers. She hasn't learned that we have more than enough time in between classes to go back and get some of our other things. She's going to trip on those robes if she doesn't get them shortened. I wonder if she's heard anything about me. I would really like for her to get a chance to know the real me. But first impressions are the ones that always last, right? Maybe I should do something nice then. Something like catch her before she falls face first onto this very hard floor.
George: Slytherin, halfblood, same year
Would it be weird if I followed her around the store? Would she think I was a stalker or something, because I'm not. But if she thought that, there wouldn't be much time for me to explain myself. There's too many people in here for her to notice me. Now I just need a reason to talk to her. Maybe I'll ask where something is so she can show it to me even though I already know where everything in this store is, but she doesn't have to know that, right?
Fred: Gryffindor, pureblood, 2 years below
I've seen her talking to Ron a couple of times, but I've never talked to her before. I've always wanted to, but I end up getting nervous. Wait, is she crying? She doesn't deserve to be crying. I want to make everything alright for her. Okay Fred you're going to walk over there and make sure everything is okay with her. Then you're going to start up a conversation with her and it's going to be fantastic.
Cedric: Hufflepuff, muggleborn, same year
Wow she looks really familiar, but I can't remember where I know her from. Maybe I've seen her around school, but that can't be true. What's the chances of that happening? I think her sister is the one that's talking to my sister. Maybe that can give me the opportunity to talk to her. She's beautiful and I already know I'm going to make a complete fool of myself. Just breathe Cedric, everything is going to be okay.
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fangisms · 11 months
Text
summertime at the burrow
A/N: i want to be an honorary weasley please im literally begging. notice me molly weasley
Pairings: Best Friend!Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Summary: Fred finally invites his best friend home over summer holiday. Neither of you expected it to go so well. 3.7k words.
Warnings: fluff, best friends to lovers, ungodly amount of shenanigans, friendly bullying/teasing, mud wrestling, kissing, (friendly) violence, pet names (trouble, snookums, sugarplum, sweetheart), cursing, borderline frog abuse
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"Good morning, trouble."
You hop into the seat next to him that he’d been saving for you. In fact, he’d been saving it for you since the first time you plopped down beside him after the sorting hat declared your house first year. You laughed when he shook your hand. He thought you had the cutest smile. Then you teased him for his devilish charm and he called you catty, and you’ve been teasing each other ever since.
"Are you packed and ready?” He sounds more worried than that time he nearly shattered his collar bone during a vicious Quidditch scrimmage. “We're leaving bright and early tomorrow. Mum says she's preparing a hearty lunch for our guests." Fred scarfs down the rest of his breakfast and turns to look at you to find you're looking back at him in bewilderment.
"Somebody's excited," you tease, ruffling his fiery locks and glancing over at George with a grin.
"If you think this is bad, you should see him before winter holidays," George huffs.
“I have.”
Fred rolls his eyes at you and you jab him in the side.
"Where are the lot of you off to?" Lee perks up from across the table, setting his plate down and wiggling his way between Alicia and Angelina.
"I finally got my honorary invite to the Weasley burrow this summer," you chirp, wrapping your arm over Fred's shoulders and leaning him into your side.
Lee cocks a brow and smirks at a suddenly and uncharacteristically shy Fred. "Well, it's about time! You've only been dating for—"
You shake your head. "No, not dating, Lee. I swear we've been over this—"
"Oh, we've been over it plenty. I just choose to ignore wicked witches when they lie—!"
You practically leap across the table with your teeth gritted to grab for his robes when you're stopped by the laughing twins holding you back from tearing into him. "Lee Jordan, you take that back right now, or so help me your mother will wonder why your hair's gone purple!"
"I'm not going to apologize for being lied to!"
"Let me at him! I'm trying to defend my honor here!"
"Miss—young lady!”—McGonagall appears behind you, sending you into shock and barreling back onto the bench—“Settle down! You're frightening the first years, and we typically prefer they come back in the fall."
"Apologies, professor, I was simply trying to have a friendly discussion with my classmate," you say, gesturing to Lee who smiles begrudgingly.
"Right, well, from now on, let's have our discussions from across the furniture, not on top of it." She wanders away, and you turn to stick your tongue out at Lee who is doubled-over and cackling at your being caught.
“I hope you know, we’re going to receive the same third-degree from my dear mother,” Fred mumbles in your ear. His heart races when you turn to him, a playful glint in your eye. You blink sweetly and rest your hand on his knee when he tucks his arm around your lower back. “But don’t worry, sugarplum, it’s never too late to try.”
He winks. Your eyes go wide, and you shove at his shoulder with a chuckle disguised by a scoff.
“Scabbers not the only rat in the Weasley family, I see.”
“That is exactly what I’m talking about, there’s no way you two are just friends—”
A slice of ham sticks to Lee’s cheek with a cold, wet slap as you eye him from across the table.
“Don’t listen to him, snookums, he just doesn’t understand our complicated arrangement,” Fred says, nudging your cheek with his nose and holding back laughter.
“Gross,” George mutters, grinning before he’s met with the same lunchmeat backhand his friend so rudely received. “Suppose I could’ve predicted that one.”
You wipe the sweat from your brow, slinging your carry-on over your shoulder before bending down to pick up your trunk. You’re trailing behind most of the rest of the group, just a few steps behind the twins while their younger siblings charge ahead through the field with Harry and Hermione. Fred checks in with you every couple of meters, making sure you don’t need any serious medical attention.
Once the twins breach the front door, you take a seat outside on your trunk, fanning yourself with your hand and throwing your head back. Then you hear:
“Fred, you better get out there and help that poor girl with her things!”
“Sorry, mum!”
You chuckle when he appears in the doorway moments later, winded as ever, hair plastered to his forehead, and still grinning wildly as he jogs over.
“What’s a lovely young lady like yourself doing outside all alone on such an unbearably hot afternoon?”
“Sweating like swine.”
“Ravishing,” he teases, shooing you off the suitcase, “head inside, mum’s absolutely itching to meet you.”
So you do. You can see her welcoming her children and their friends alike, and it fills you with the warmth of fresh gingerbread and the nerves of a teenage boy during school dance season.
“My dear!” she coos, arms outstretched even though a thin year of sweat coats every inch of your body, even though you’ve been wearing these clothes for a day, and even though you’re breathing heavy like a dog. She’s got her arms outstretched like you’re family.
“I’ve heard so much about you from Fred, and, goodness, you’re even prettier than he said you’d be!” —She gasps when he walks through the door, hauling your trunk in tow—“Don’t tell him I told you.”
“It’s been five minutes and you two are already sharing secrets about me. Only seven more days, Freddie,” he mumbles, setting the trunk down with a thud.
“Oh, well! It’s wonderful to finally meet you, dear, Ginny will show you to your room and lunch will be ready once you’re all settled!”
“Thank you, Mrs Weasley—”
“Oh, none of that, call me Molly.”
Your brows knit when she smiles at you so gently before making her way back to the kitchen.
“Thank you, Molly!”
Fred hops up from where he’d been relaxing on an armchair, clapping you on the arm with a reassuring smile.
“Everything processing alright up there?”
You nod.
“Peachy. Now give me a smile, you’re scaring me.”
You squint at him and pinch his arm, simpering when he hisses and swats your dry-gulching fingers away.
“That’ll do!”
“We’re up this way,” Ginny chirps as she rushes by and tugs you by the hand up the stairs.
Fred watches after you, rubbing his arm with a mean look on his face just before his playful resentment fades and his affections settle into the apples of his cheeks. This is going to be a long seven days.
Fred had never invited anyone to stay at the burrow. He preferred the company of his close family and whoever his mother deemed Weasley-enough herself. But he’d been saving this invitation. It stewed in the back of his mind for years before he mustered up the courage to offer it to you.
Ridiculous. That’s how it sounded in his head: ridiculous. If he wanted to ask you, he should have done it at the first chance. That’s what Fred would do. But he could never bring himself to get the words out whenever he swore to himself today would be the day. Because you’d just look at him with those damned doe eyes—you’d test his boundaries and make him all gushy inside—and it was like he was suddenly turned to a tongue-tied and pathetic halfwit.
And now here you are. An unofficial part of his family. But nevertheless a part of it. You’d found the annual Weasley strawberry-picking trip to be wonderful despite Fred pulling cheap pranks on you and the fact that it was basically sweltering outside. When you returned, you all spread out in the family room with bowls of the dewy berries in each of your laps. Everyone claimed a seat while you and Fred were forced to share the hardwood floor. You ended up tossing the small fruits into each other’s mouths with your legs laid across his thighs.
At one point, he lands one of the berries down your blouse. Almost immediately, he starts to laugh, clutching his chest while you gawk at him.
“You better start running, trouble.”
He gulps and scampers to his feet before scurrying out the front door. You take off after him, shouting curses into the wind when he rounds a corner.
You follow his footsteps but he’s nowhere to be seen.
“I swear, if I ever get my hands on you—”
He grabs your waist from behind you, dipping down to whisper in your ear. “You can put your hands on me whenever you’d like, sugarplum—”
“Merlin’s Beard, Fred! You scared the shit out of me!”
You jolt away, and he thinks you look genuinely angry this time. But he smiles and your features soften. Then you’re after him again, bounding into the tall grass with an uproar of laughter.
You spend the next few days of your vacation trying to beat Ron at chess then deciding it may be better if you and Harry team up to try and beat Ron at chess. You also take Ginny and Hermione shopping while the gaggle of boys trail behind the three of you grumbling and whining about missing their beloved Quidditch game.
You offer to help Molly with every meal, and she only accepts once you convince her your desserts are a crowd favorite back home. She’s proud to say she’s impressed, and she grows even prouder when you admit you adore big families like hers and see at least two kids of your own in your future.
Arthur takes a liking to you after you listen to him rave about the kind of items muggles use day-to-day and how fascinating their modern technology has become in recent years. He’s thrilled to find you actually take interest in his tinkering and collections and whatnot.
But most of all, you spend your time at the burrow with Fred. He steals you away after meals and keeps you up late to teach you his favorite charms. One overcurious evening finds you two perched together on the bathroom floor whispering and giggling while you brush a bold smokey-eye onto his eyelids. Let’s just say dinner that night was nothing short of hilarious: a look that Fred will never live down.
On the fifth morning, you jostle him awake. He whines about the sun not even being up yet while you drag him down the steps and shove your socked feet into an extra pair of rubber boots.
“What’s the bucket for?” he whispers, traipsing down the path along the side of the house when you stop dead in your tracks.
“Shh!” You press your gloved finger to his lips. A chorus of croaks erupts from the marsh beside the house. Nothing out of the ordinary for Fred, in fact that sound had often soothed him to sleep. But there’s a dangerous glint in your eye that tells him you’re on a mission.
“Can’t we do this when the sun is up? It’s cold and I’m tired—”
“The faster we catch ‘em, the faster we can go back to bed,” you whisper as your boot sinks into the edge of the muddy body of water. He sighs and sinks in next to you with his hands on his hips.
“I can’t believe you’ve convinced me to do this. You’re lucky you’re so pretty or you’d never get away with anything.”
You purse your lips and wade a little further out, looking out at the cooly rippling water beneath the sliver of sunrise.
“Yes, I would,” you say, quietly but so matter-of-fact he’s inclined to believe you.
Just then you spring into action, shoveling a small frog into your bucket with a victorious grunt. A few minutes later, he shuffled over to you and lowers his cupped palms into your bucket: three more frogs settle down into the center with a wet plop. You beam up at him, and it’s worth the early morning trouble to see you so happy and have you so close.
“So what do you plan on doing with these poor creatures once we’re done?”
You sit on the bank of the waterbed, sighing and setting the bucket beside you. He watches you from the water while you examine the small blob of darkness in the center of your palm. The bottom of the bucket is lined with croaking frogs, and the sun is well above the horizon, dousing the sky in soft pink and warm rose.
“I’m going to let them go.”
He lets out a sharp breath, hands falling to his sides, leaving streaks of mud down his tee shirt.
“You’re joking.”
You look up at him. You’re not joking.
“No,” he huffs. “You did not drag me out of my nice, warm bed to catch a million slimy frogs in the freezing cold dark just to let them go again.”
“Oh, but I did.” You’re crazy, he thinks. You’re crazy and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. Doesn’t make you any less crazy, though it might make him much less sane.
You set the frog down in the grass and leave the bucket tipped over. The small creatures immediately flood out from the splotchy tin opening into the newborn daylight and the crisp morning air. You stand and wipe your hands against each other a few times, scrunching your nose and finally meeting his eyes again.
“What’s wrong, trouble? Cat got your tongue?”
You grin.
“You know, one of these days, I’m going to say ‘no’ to you, and it’ll be a rude awakening.”
Fred walks past you like he’s really mad. Like it was an uncrossable line and you treated it like the tape at the end of a marathon. He’s hulking back towards the house when you grab his wrist to get his attention.
“What?”
But you don’t look sad. You don’t look pitiful or hurt. You look like you’re scheming, and it drives him crazy. As if he could ever say ‘no’ to you.
“You think I’m pretty,” you coo, batting your lashes just to get on his nerves. His breath hitches, and he feels warm despite the nipping cold of the morning.
“Unrelated.”
You drop his hand and cross your arms over your chest with a pout. He continues leisurely toward the burrow, tossing his gloves to the ground with a huff of hot air.
“Fred?” you call. And you sound worried, so he’s compelled to whip around. But when he does, he’s met with a rude awakening.
It was a misstep. A silly mistake, the wrong footing. Easily avoidable, and yet he didn’t avoid it. So he’s ass-first into a mud puddle with you shrieking in laughter about a meter away.
“You’re awful,” he grumbles, both hands propping him up and seeping into the thick mud as seconds tick by.
“I’m sorry! Freddie, I’m so sorry,” you cackle, taking a few steps toward him with tears of joy in your eyes. “But you should have seen your face!”
“Help me up,” he says, shaking his head and wiping his hand down his pajama pants before holding it outstretched to you. You grab it and tug enough to leverage him out of the muck. But he doesn’t budge. And in that moment, your eyes are filled with fear. Then, with one jolt, you topple down into the mud right beside him.
“Fred!”
“An eye for an eye, sugarplum.”
You push yourself up onto your hands to find your entire front is caked in mud, the mess narrowly avoiding your chin and above.
“You’re going to pay for that.”
“Oh, bring it on,” Fred teases.
You smirk just before a handful of mud is smeared across his chest by your slippery glove.
“Your move, trouble.”
He shakes his head and chuckles, looking down at the abstract art work fondly. But not quite fondly enough to hold himself back. His fingers dig into the puddle determinedly just before patting the top of your head with it like a stray dog. You squint your eyes closed and groan before peeking one eye open and coating his cheek in mud.
You make it to your feet and Fred hurls a ball of mud at your ass but he misses and it lands in the grass in front of you. You bolt around the back of the house, but he hurls a hunk towards your shoulder blade. You yelp and shout at him:
“You’re supposed to be a gentleman!”
“I’ll show you a gentleman, sweetheart,” he hollers it just before he catches up to you. You squeal and nearly slip on a slick patch of grass, but before you can leap out of his reach, he grabs your upper arm and presses you against the tree just behind your back.
“That’s not playing fair, Freddie, I’ve got nowhere to run,” you say, breathlessly grasping at the edge of his shirt with a tired smile. He chuckles and plants one palm against the bark beside your head, bringing the other hand to cup the side of your neck.
“You don’t need to run anywhere,” he mumbles, “just stay here.” The dried mud on the pad of his thumb draws a swipe of dirt down your cheek. Your fingers curl around his wrist and your lips part sweetly when he leans in.
“Time to come inside, you two! Breakfast is ready!”
Your eyes go wide when he leans his forehead against the tree with a grumbled curse.
“I suppose I am quite peckish!” you chirp, dragging him along behind you all the way to the front door. You leave your boots and gloves outside and brush some of the dried dirt from your pajamas.
You sit across from him at breakfast and catch him stealing glances at you every so often. With a mouth full of food, you wink at him with a dirt-smeared face and almost make him spit out his juice when you kick him under the table. George teases the two of you about wrestling in the mud while Molly scolds Fred about tracking it into the house.
Before long, you’re facing the final night of your stay. You’d been dreading the end since the beginning, and now that it’s here, you’re heartbroken. It’s been nothing but fun and you’ve never felt so wonderfully vulnerable with so many people around.
But the thing you’ll miss most is Fred. He could sense you pulling away the last couple of days. Trying to shield yourself from the impact of reality. No matter how hard he tried to cheer you up, he knew nothing could stop you thinking about how much packing up and leaving would hurt.
With your things splayed out across the floor of your temporary room, you had started packing hours ago but kept finding ways to distract yourself and avoid the idea of leaving altogether.
“Need any help?” Fred knocks on the doorframe, leaned against it and wearing the blue jumper you once told him he looked best in. You smile up at him from the floor.
“No,” you huff, “but some company would be nice.”
He perks up and shuffles around your belongings to plant himself on the edge of the bed. You had made the bed up nicely, tucked the duvet and set the pillows out nicely. He told you you didn’t have to, but you did it anyways.
After a few minutes of folding and refolding the same shirt, you stand from the floor and join him on the bed. He’s leaned back onto his elbows when he nudges your foot with his. You nudge him back but don’t turn to look at him. So he sits up and bumps you with his shoulder.
“I’m going to miss you,” he says, fussing with the edge of your shorts to distract himself, “Being here, I mean. As a part of our family.”
You smile down at his fiddling fingertips and inch closer, looking at him with this half-sad, half-happy look that has him confused and hopeless and head over heels and confused.
“I had a really, really nice time,” you whisper, leaning your head onto his shoulder and letting your eyes drift closed.
“So…”
You chuckle and smile to yourself, “So…?”
You sit up when the floor rattles a little, a thudding coming from the room below you. Then George shouts.
“Get it over with already!”
You both look at each other and giggle. Fred leans back again and you watch him tilt his head back and let out a sigh. His chest rises and falls beneath that damned blue sweater, and you trace your fingertips over his knuckles. He lifts his head and smiles cheekily at you, like he knows what’s going on inside your head. Like he has any idea. And for once, you think he might be pretty close.
You practically tackle him to the bed, smiling against his mouth when he cradles your face in one hand and rests the other on your waist where your shirt had ridden up from the ruckus.
You pepper soft kisses over his blushing face, leaving faintly glossy lip prints on his cheeks and nose and forehead and a stray one on the column of his neck. He goes slack against the bed, satisfied and content and happy all because of you. But still, he lazily opens his eyes and grins mischievously and says:
“Took you long enough.”
You smack your hand against his chest just hard enough to warn him.
“Oh, you’re trouble, Weasley.”
He cups your hand against his warm chest and his smile ebbs from mischief to something not as easily recognized. Something that makes him shy and pink thanks to the girl who likes the freckles across the bridge of his nose in the summer and his hands even when they’re covered in mud. Love that makes him much less sane for the girl who might just be crazy for loving him back.
And all of it makes him hold your hand and lean up to kiss you one more time.
masterlist
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