#percy's face changing and the quick flick down of his eyes when he says 'looking to put you back in your place' oh he wants him GONNNEEEE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theunholygrails · 3 years

Text

Foolish Games Part 2

Masterlist

A/N: Introducing new characters and some drama! Percy is still sexy as ever :'(.

Warnings: BJ

I woke up to a door slamming so hard it joined the symphony of my pounding headache. I groaned, hoisting myself over the back of the couch to investigate to intrusion. A brunette head of long sweeping hair rushed through the foyer, barreling towards the kitchen. A familiar mop of black hair hurried after.

Reyna was speaking so fast in Spanish my brain scrambled to keep up. I noted lots of curse words followed by a series of sentences too fast I was surprised she even knew what she was saying. Percy was answering in slow measured words, probably fighting a hangover of equal measure. I ducked behind the back of the couch, reaching for my phone plugged in on the coffee table.

It was noon. 2% battery and a couple messages from friends. Nothing from my ex thank gods. Five from Annabeth being nosey. I opened my uber app, squinting in the sunlight breaking through the cream curtains. I managed to get my driver secured.

A door slammed and I winced, peaking to check that they were in another room. I did not immediately spot my dress in the chaotic. I grimaced remembering the midnight swim. When I sat up I finally noticed the white tshirt I wore and the basketball shorts. And then I went rigid remembering what happened after the swim.

“Motherfucker,” I whispered.

Now I really had to get out of this house. I checked the arrival time of my driver. Three minutes away. Great. I made my way on shaky knees to the large wooden front door. My keys were still in the collection dish. I grabbed them quietly and turned the door handle a fraction of an inch before another door slammed open and Reyna came barreling back into the foyer, brown eyes landing promptly on my guilty ass. Behind her, Percy pursed his lips into a thin line and raised both of his hands to lay on top of his head. His biceps strained nicely against the thin t shirt.

“The fuck is this?” Reyna whispered.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” I babbled.

“It’s just Noa, Rey. Gods,” Percy said.

“I can see that, Percy!” She snapped. I was glad her spear was not strapped across her back this morning. “Why is she sneaking out of my house in your clothes?”

“People were swimming last night. Her clothes got wet.”

“I’m sure the fuck they did.”

“Zeus, Rey! You ended it with me. Why does it even matter?”

“Because I still fucking love you! I’m sorry, okay?” She burst out crying and Percy instantly pulled her against his chest. The memory of being in those arms drove me out the door like a nest of hornets.

~~~~

“I’m just saying. You have nothing to feel sorry for,” Annabeth paused to sip her iced coffee. “Unless they get back together and then you sleep with him. But as of right now, you’re good. Trust me. Been on the Percy train. We’re still friends. You’ll get over it. Just a harmless rebound for both of you.”

I groaned, laying my chin on the cool metal table parked outside our favorite coffee shop positioned between our New York apartments. Just two Manhattan women enjoying their Sunday afternoon. The air was cooling as fall neared. I pulled my baseball cap closer to the top of my sunglasses.

“Should I call him?”

“Maybe tomorrow. Let him deal with his relationship drama. Reyna is a lot to deal with. Still nothing from fuckface?”

“Nope and that’s fine.”

“Good for you. We will hydrate you, get you a good dinner, hit the gym before work in the morning and then get back on our bad bitch mental track. Agreed?”

~~~~

“Good Monday, yogis,” I chirped from my desk at the corner of my studio.

The third class was beginning to trickle in and I was settling into my rhythm. Hot yoga was next and hopefully I would sweat out all the negativity I’d allowed lately. I was in the middle of emailing back a potential client when someone rapped at the wood of my desk. I glanced up to a blonde male who waved gently.

“Heya, sansei Noa,” he said.

“That’s karate. Can I help you?”

“Do you do trial classes?”

I hit send on my email and closed my laptop. The guy was built like a poser with the defined muscles and chiseled jaw but his voice was soft and tempered. He was clean shaven and dressed like a basic gym bro.

“Normally you have to schedule them beforehand because of class size,” I gave my standard answer.

“Right, my bad. Sorry. I was just passing by the front and it looked like the kind of place I needed right now. Can I go ahead and pick a date then?”

I was staring too long into his pale blue eyes, honed in on the polite response. A nice change from the daily demanding consumers. “You know what? Ive got space right now if you like? Have you ever done hot yoga?”

A brilliant white smile showcasing sharp canines. “My favorite.”

“Perfect. I just need a name, number and email to get you a file started.”

He leaned large hands on my desk. “It’s Luke Castellan.”

Before he could give the contact information, I cut him off. “Wait. I know you.” His tanned skin paled significantly.

“I…”

“You’re supposed to be dead!” I blurted out.

His eyes skated around the room and he leaned in closer. “That’s not supposed to be public knowledge. I assume you’re a demigod?”

“Luke, you trained me. We took fucking sculpting together. The Apollo table was right next to the Hermes one for fuck’s sake.”

He winced. I heard a murmuring from the rest of my class I was disturbing with my volume. I collected my shock finally. “Take a seat if you want. We should talk after class. I need to start.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’m sorry Noa.”

I waved him off and walked over to my yoga mat. I sat cross legged and drew in an even breath to smooth out my emotions.

It was a slow 30 minute class. Each pose and movement dragged on. Finally, I dismissed the group and nodded Luke outside. He was waiting on the bench outside of the studio I split renting with a few other instructors. I sat next to him, wiping sweat from my face with the towel slung over my pink sports bra.

“Alright, talk,” I said.

“Not much to say. I was given a second chance at my hearing. Here I am. Starting over.” A shrug of well-defined shoulders. The muscles flexed beneath his gleaming sweat. His red tank top stuck to his chest and stomach. “I wish I remembered you, truly. That time is such a blur in my life.”

“It’s ok. You were a lot older than me and to be honest I had a massive crush on you so I probably hid most of the time.”

A surprised smile slipped across his lips. “I’m assuming the betrayal helped you get over that?”

I laughed outloud, slapping his knee. “No shit! So where are you staying these days?”

“Just around the corner actually. Got a job at the local gym.”

“Yeah I bet the fuck you did.” I squeezed his forearm between both of my hands. I wanted to roll my eyes at me falling back into my school girl giddy at him. Betrayal of the gods aside. He was even more gorgeous than ever. The scar down his face gave him a dark sexy vibe. Like a bad boy even though he claimed he was rehabbing himself now.

“So how, did you feel about the class?”

“I mean, I’d like to sign up for it a couple times a week, that’s for sure. And I’d like to take you out to dinner to make up for not remembering a beauty like you.”

I almost bit my cheek biting out the response of “Yes!”

“You’ve got my number,” he said, chuckling quietly. “I’ve got to get to work.” He shouldered his gym bag and excused himself.

The bike back to my apartment was spent reliving my tween fantasies about bad boy Luke. I opened my apartment door and screeched seeing a man sitting at my kitchen counter. Percy turned to face me.

“You know you live in New York? You should really lock that.”

“It was!” I snapped.

A quick grin. “Yeah. But it was easy to break into.”

I dropped my bag onto the floor and brushed past him to get a protein shake from the fridge. “I have to shower and get prepared for my night classes.” I told him.

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t either.”

He paused, studying my face in the shitty lighting of the single bulb hanging between us over the counter. “Are we good, Noa?”

“Of course. What’s a little head between friends?”

“Okay…I can’t read you. Can you not play tough just for a minute?”

I chugged the shake and set the bottle down between us. I leaned my arms on the chilled counter, bun knocking against the light. “Honestly, Percy. I’m fine. We are good.”

“Reyna moved back in.”

“You’re engaged again?”

I drank from the empty bottle to give myself something to do. He watched me with those green eyes. He’d known me for far too long. He was nearly impossible to deceive, but I was determined today. The fact that I had dreamt of fucking him two consecutive nights was irrelevant if he was off the table. Even if his lips did look incredibly juicy tonight. Even if they had done near illicit things to me just nights ago.

“I don’t know. She said she wanted to work on things. And it’s her dad’s house, so I can’t ask her to go and I don’t want to go to my mom’s and admit defeat.”

“You know you could stay here, Perc.”

He worked his jaw silently, then rubbed his hands over his face. “Thanks. I do know. Even if we aren’t officially back together, I think we should work on it…” he trailed off.

“And not tell her about you eating me out?” I leaned closer because I was mean to both him and myself. Because I knew this top combined with this angle gave him a simple opportunity. And he took it.

His tongue slid out between his lips as his eyes flicked down, stayed, then dragged deliberately back up. “Probably not,” he agreed.

For a long moment neither of us said anything. He had more to lose now than me. We were no longer on equal playing fields. So, I left the ball in his court. “I’m going to go shower.”

I was done washing in the first ten minutes. The second ten was giving him a little wiggle room to decide. I had my hand on the faucet to cut off the water that was beginning to go cold when I heard the door creak open. I watched through the fogged glass, catching a hold of my breath. I watched as he tugged his shirt off. My stomach flipped over itself when he reached for his jeans. What had I done?

The opening door let in a rush of cool air, perking my skin to attention. My eyes raked unapologetically over his naked, aroused body. His dark hair quickly slicked against his stubble covered jaw. His eyes were no longer the sea green but murky like the deep water of the ocean.

“Hey,” he said quietly, cautiously.

“Hey,” I giggled, reaching out to touch his rough jaw. He winced, catching my hand with his. “We probably shouldn’t kiss again.”

“Sure, whatever you want, Percy. What can I do to you?”

He groaned, turning his mouth into my palm, scraping teeth against the vulnerable skin. “Touch me,” he said.

My free hand instantly planted against his chest, scraping at the muscle. His eyes fluttered closed, head tilting back to expose his throat. I slid my other hand into his thick hair, tugging it tightly between my fingers and pulling to grant myself more access to the strong column of his neck. I bit it first, backing him into the tiled wall when he shuddered. I kissed over the reddening skin and moved my hands to his flat stomach, feeling the shuddered breaths beneath my touch.

“Like this?” I asked.

His reply was unintelligible. I kissed down his chest, moving my hand lower still as I went. When my fingers brushed over the v-line of his hips, I shifted my route away from the center and to his thighs. An annoyed grunt escaped his lips. “Hush,” I scolded, getting my knees under me. The now cold water was hitting the back of my neck and flowing down my body. I placed my hands on the inside of both his thighs, trailing them upwards and upwards until he nearly contorted when I gripped him. He let out a scandalous string of curses that quickly turned to moaning silence when I took him into my mouth.

He unraveled in minutes and I let him cum all over the breasts I had teased him with earlier. I rose in front of him, my own rosy cheeks mirroring his. “Now we’re even.”

#percy jackson smut #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson #logan lerman smut #logan lerman fanfiction

242 notes · View notes

chironshorseass · 3 years

Note

hello yes i’m OBSESSED with your writing so if you’re still taking prompts maybe “please look at me” bc i also have an unhealthy relationship with pre-tlo percabeth angst and live for pining percy

SYD U GAVE ME THIS AND I JUST HAD TO PUT ALL MY PROMPTS ASIDE!!! because how could i not!!!

for what i wrote, i kind of mention this clarisse one-shot.

anyway enjoy <3, since I sort of went crazy with percy being powerful :) like i always do :) and of course, pre-tlo percabeth :)

read on ao3

The waves had grown restless these past few days. Violent, brutal. The night was quiet, the moon hidden beneath darkened clouds, drenching the camp in heavy ink. Percy knew many demigods proclaimed it as the quiet before the storm. They couldn’t have been more wrong.

All he heard was noise.

He’d been like this—unsteady, overwhelmed—for some time, now. Everywhere he went, he felt like a ship sailing into giant waves, water crashing against his deck, threatening to bring him under.

Grover would’ve understood, maybe. But Grover, like the moon, had vanished. That only left a few of his other friends—and of course—Annabeth.

Percy couldn’t avoid her gaze, no matter how much he wanted to. She was always there, watching. Maybe she awaited the day when he’d sink to the power of those waves that plagued the beach, that plagued him. Maybe she anticipated with bated breath on the day when he’d turn sixteen and he’d have to make one decision that would change everything.

Nevertheless, she’d drift away from him. Then come back, again and again.

It drove him crazy, how much their relationship had changed with the times and circumstances. Only now, Annabeth wasn’t what bothered him.

His gut was.

It tightened and loosened, the same way the currents flowed to the rhythm of his rushing blood. He could hear that now, too.

His blood. The sea. The clashes against rock.

Everything was beating to a powerful symphony of drums.

But worst of all was his gut.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

Percy knew there was a war. He had nightmares about it, in fact. Nightmares leading to frantic waking-ups from the feeling of lava burning into his skin. But he hadn’t sensed the war’s presence so strongly in all his three years of attending camp as he did now—and he felt it, because the source of conflict had to do with the sea.

The shadows of cabin three clung to his skin in a comfortable blanket, but he couldn’t ignore this dread. It had trickled patiently into his system for a week now, culminating to this exact moment. He couldn’t sit still. He had to leave. Now.

Not long after stumbling outside while shoving his armor on did he hear the conch horn ringing as a warning. The lookouts had seen something. His legs moved faster.

Doors of other cabins began to smash open, and with it came the spilling of panicked campers. He was already way ahead of them, though.

“To the beach!” someone cried.

Percy arrived just in time to see Chiron assemble with Michael Yew and Austin Lake. The sons of Apollo. They’d apparently been the ones on night duty. The centaur saw Percy before the others made out his heavy footfalls.

“Percy,” Chiron said. “Thank the gods you’re here.”

“There’s something,” he gasped, doubling over once he’d reached them. “There’s something out there,” he finally managed to say, gulping mouthfuls of air. “The sea.”

They already knew, however. The conchorns were signal enough. But what was more obvious was the glimpse of the giant tail, jutting out of the water like a spear cutting through flesh.

The breath he’d managed to find from his mad dash was stolen away at the sight of the monster.

“Yeah,” Austin said, swallowing. “There’s something out there, alright.”

Chiron eyed Percy warily. “My boy. We are dealing here with something I fear that you are only capable of stopping.”

“Yeah, well...it looks like a pretty big fish. I—”

A howl punctured the atmosphere—probably the same sea monster he’d seen earlier. Percy gasped, feeling a stabbing jolt in his stomach. He didn’t know why this sudden change of the sea was affecting him so, but he had to stay strong. So he stood up straight and concentrated on his breathing.

“Are you alright?” Austin asked, studying him.

Percy looked at Chiron, who met his eyes as well. You have to be, his teacher seemed to say.

“I...I think so.”

Michael chose the moment to turn his back on the sea, blowing the conchorn once more. He shouted at the incoming campers, “Greek fire! We need Greek fire!”

The rest of the multitude showed up right away, Hephaestus kids priming canons while others exchanged weaponry. Through all of it, Percy’s gut became a pressure cooker, a fist closing around glass, about to break. He cried out in agony just as a tidal wave shook the world. Falling to his knees, his arms encircled his middle, muffling that pain. He wanted nothing but to make it stop.

He vaguely heard a sound of surprise, coming from someone nearby, then the rush of hands holding onto his shoulders. They helped somewhat, a comfort to the madness.

The hands were warm and soothing. The voice of the person became clearer. He knew that voice. He knew those hands.

Annabeth appeared in his vision, all worry lines and pinched eyebrows. She said something to him again, but the words might’ve been ghosts; the stampeding blood behind his ears was too thunderous to make out anything else.

He closed his eyes and concentrated like he had earlier.

Sharp as a blade, his senses switched to the outside world.

“Are—are you okay?” Annabeth was saying. “You doubled over, and I…”

“No.” He opened his eyes to meet hers. They matched the storm that raged across the sea. “I—I’m not okay. I need to stop this, I need—”

“We were just discussing strategy,” she said. He was glad for the distraction she’d offered. “The Scolopendra isn’t just any ordinary sea monster.”

“The Scolo what?”

She helped him stand up, steadying him with her arms.

“The Scolopendra,” she repeated. “A child of Keto. It’s one of the biggest sea monsters in existence, and it won’t leave the camp border.”

“No shit.”

Annabeth ignored him, glancing backwards at where the monster had last been seen. “There’s no telling what it can do. There’s barely any recordings of it.” She swiveled back to him. “Chiron says that it can control the tide. It might be capable of drowning the camp if we don’t kill it.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“I told Chiron that we needed to try my strategy first. As in, bombing it with Greek fire before we go with the last approach.”

“And what would that last approach be?”

He had some idea, but before Annabeth could speak, the creature shot out of the water, faster than lightning. He only caught a glimpse of the crayfish-like tail and rows of webbed feet before it disappeared again.

“That looks like a giant shrimp,” he declared.

A giant shrimp that was probably capable of crushing a decently-sized trireme. Shrimpzilla, he was about to call it, as a way to lighten the mood. But he thought better of it, once he saw the hard line of Annabeth’s lips as she watched the campers rev up the Greek fire.

The Scolopendra dared to peek out of the waves for the third time, giving the chance for Beckendorf to yell out an order. Instantly, canyons discharged the green substance directly towards the monster.

It roared defiantly, maybe in pain, maybe in anger. No one was sure, because as soon as the night sky lit up with green flames, the Scolopendra crashed against the water like a wrecking ball. For a moment, all was silent.

No one dared breathe.

Annabeth squeezed Percy’s shoulder. She looked hopeful, as if relieved that she didn’t have to go with the second plan.

Chiron’s tail twitched. Beckendorf held out a hand, urging the campers to wait. Some stood anticipatedly, swords ready. He saw Clarisse in the front line, her electric spear aimed at the sea and crackling with energy.

Percy sensed what was about to happen next before he heard it.

“Annabeth,” he said frantically. “Annabeth, we have to go. Now.”

“What? But—”

“NOW!”

He’d already separated himself from her, yelling at the rest of the campers to leave. They didn’t have the chance; milliseconds later, the Scolopendra appeared. It bellowed with the power of a thousand hurricanes. Many campers covered their ears.

To everyone’s horror, it had closed in on the shore, its back legs likely reaching the sand floor as it rose to its full, terrifying height. Lightning crackled, and with it, came another roar.

“No,” he muttered. “No, everyone get out!”

Too late. The monster had already spit out a million gallons’ worth of salt water.

Instinctively, Percy let out a yell and threw his hands out.

The water halted in midair, rippling like a broken mirror. It was as if time had slowed down, as if Kronos himself had been the one to interfere. But Kronos wasn’t interfering. It was all Percy—with nothing but his willpower. A bead of sweat rolled down from his temple.

Annabeth reached him just as he cried out and threw the water back to the sea with everything he had, forcing the giant shrimp to hide as well.

He caught his breath while Annabeth looked back and forth. From him to the sea, from the sea to him.

She shook her head at no one in particular. “The plan didn’t work.”

“No shit.”

Then she gazed at him again. “Thank you for doing that, Perce.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “No problem.”

“About the second plan...”

“I have to kill it, don’t I?”

“I...maybe. But we can help—”

“It isn’t a maybe. It is a certainty,” a voice said, strong and firm.

They both turned around.

“Chiron,” Annabeth said. “How can he possibly—”

“He’s the only one capable,” the horseman said. “You know that better than most.”

Her eyes flicked to Percy. Memories flashed through his mind. A quick, burning kiss. A promise. Then, the way fire engulfed him. The call of the sea. An explosion, strong enough to wake one of the most dangerous monsters of all.

When the bombard was over, he understood. He had to face this monster alone, like he had with the telkhines.

“Okay,” he finally said.

“Okay, what?”

Chiron nodded at him, ignoring Annabeth’s question. Without glancing back, he retreated to where the rest of the demigods were watching by the sand dunes as a precaution.

“I need to face him alone,” Percy told her, once Chiron was gone.

“No! Percy, that thing is bigger than—”

“I’m the only one that can’t drown, Annabeth!” He grasped her shoulders so that she was looking directly at him. “If anyone can do it, it’s me.”

“Don’t think I can’t see what’s going on with you,” she said, voice bitter and rough. “You’re distant, like, like the ocean is—”

“We’re both growing distant, ‘Beth. That’s not the problem right now.”

She pushed his hands away. “And that’s not what I’m talking about, and you fucking know that!”

Before he could reply, the monster's call came again. A reminder that this night wasn’t over.

“Please. Just trust me on this, Annabeth. I have to try. It’s our last option. You said so yourself: it may be capable of drowning the entire camp.”

She said nothing, not even sparing him a glance.

“And—and I don’t know why I’m like this! Maybe it’s because I can feel the ocean getting agitated, or because the war is getting worse, or—”

He realized it, then. Annabeth's tears. They were silent rivers, flowing gently down her cheeks and into her mouth. Flowing down to where everything ended up, to the sea.

“Hey,” he said, approaching her slowly. He took both of her hands in his, but she repelled away from his touch. “Please, ‘Beth.”

This time, he cupped her damp cheek, moving it in his direction. “Please look at me.”

And when she finally obliged, her gaze was fractured with glistening tears, like diamonds.

“I can’t lose you again,” she whispered.

Percy had yearned for too long; he let go of that rope tugging him in the opposite direction and instead let Annabeth in. They melted into each other, both shamelessly giving away the little warmth they preserved. It was the kind of hug that felt like a lifeline, the kind that made them both sway like the tide.

“I missed you,” he mumbled into her curls.

She held him tighter. “I missed you, too.”

“But I have to fight this one myself.”

Annabeth pulled away slightly—and when he saw the look on her face—he knew that she knew.

“HEY, SHRIMPZILLA!”

The Scolopendra reared its head, even uglier up close. Its nostrils flared with hairs, beady eyes staring down at him. When he charged, the monster bellowed and threw itself in the water, sending sprays taller than a house.

But none of it touched Percy.

He didn’t stop running, a plan in mind. Meanwhile, the sea churned around him in one giant mass of power, but it parted with each step he took, forming a trail of now exposed ocean floor. Water collided with the sky, flying with the salt in the air.

Hello, friend, it seemed to say. Or rather, hum. The sea was a song, and he was just there to dance to its melody.

The Scolopendra had disappeared again.

He didn’t look back, though he knew the entire camp was there, watching—maybe in awe, but he didn’t care enough to find out. He kept walking, alone, surrounded by a pool of green and blue. Was this how Moses felt, In those stories he’d heard? Bricks of ocean water, flinging up into the sky, just so that Percy could pass. The feeling distracted him from the objective.

That’s what he’d argue later, because Percy can’t explain how the monster managed to sneak up to him that easily.

The pool of green seemed endless. There was a moment where nothing moved, not even the water. But then something did tug him violently, up, up into the sky.

For a second, he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t scream out, the breath stolen from his lungs and the icy rush of air when flung into the sky nauseating. The only feeling he knew was of the Scolopendra and its death grip on his entire body.

With each second, the roiling waters grew farther and farther away. The Scolopendra’s growl, however, couldn’t have sounded closer. Sharp claws sank into his chest and arms. If he didn’t react now, he’d be eaten before the next flash of lightning struck the sea.

Somehow, he managed to uncap Riptide.

And with a scream, he stabbed, as hard as he could.

“Hey. Want company?” A soft voice said.

He craned his neck around.

Annabeth subconsciously made the world easier to look at. Especially now, as she stood behind him in the pier with the last vestiges of harsh sun striking her back. Her stance was stiff, hesitant. He understood why.

So instead his eyes bored into his lap. He shrugged.

That was a sign enough for her. She crouched next to him, pulling her legs under herself and then flinging them out to where the wooden planks ended and the open air began, toes nearly kissing the placid lake.

She sat next to him, quiet as the wind. It took a few seconds or minutes or hours before she decided to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

From his peripheral vision, he could tell that she’d been studying him instead of watching the reflection of herons flying above the water. Something he’d thought she’d been doing. Apparently not.

It also took him seconds or minutes or hours before he could respond.

“What for?”

She exhaled, “Letting you go alone. Being a part of the campers who…”

She didn’t finish that sentence. He knew why.

Being a part of the campers who abandoned you alone after what you did.

“S’okay. I get it.”

A lie. He didn’t get it.

“Doesn’t make it right.”

He stared at his hands. “Guess not.”

The details of the fight were yet to go away. The memories were still fresh—like his mother’s batch of cookies whenever he came home from camp. Teeth were ever-present in his mind. And those webbed hands. Those twisted sounds as a monster choked on its own blood.

Afterward, everyone had taken a step back. Even Annabeth and Chiron seemed to contemplate him as though he were doomed. Maybe he was.

“I wish Grover were here.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth sighed. She kicked her leg up, swatting at some mosquitos. “Me too.”

“He’d pull our shit together, fix everything.” He found himself sounding wistful, longing for a missing piece of himself all of a sudden.

She didn’t reply to that. They both missed their best friend. Now, more than ever. Percy tried to not dwell too much on the fact that Grover hadn’t responded to his Iris Messages or to his calls from their shared empathy link.

“I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“No, Percy. I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“Just look at me.”

He did the opposite, gazing at the trees to his left. They were a deep, mystical green. The colors looked like the ocean, where he’d displayed his powers for everyone to see. Worst mistake of his life. He realized that tears had begun to form in his eyes; he quickly blinked them away.

“Percy,” Annabeth insisted.

Her tone wasn’t hash or demanding—but rather, a light pink sky. A hand brushing his, sweet and tender. He noticed that it wasn’t just his imagination; glancing down, he found her fingers ghosting against his knuckles.

“Please look at me.”

This was eerily familiar. It hit him, then, that he’d said those exact words when she’d panicked about him going alone to fight the Scolopendra.

Hesitantly, his eyes focused on her face. Her freckles were there, golden like the rest of her. Only now, her eyes were rimmed with tears.

Something changed inside them both. She stared at him, he stared at her. Her face contorted, and the both broke down, crumbling like ruins with the slightest gust.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, clinging to his shirt.

“Me too,” he murmured back.

He held unto her as if she were a life force, breathing in her lemony scent. Tears were exchanged, mingling in the other’s hair. They held each other, an embrace that didn’t deserve to end. It only made him cry harder, while Annabeth held him closer.

“Why are you sorry?”

He couldn’t say it out loud.

I’m sorry for why we’re like this. I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m sorry for leaving.

Instead, he pulled away. He studied her, every single feature, from those grey eyes and that upturned nose to those curls that no longer appeared to look like a princess.’ They were just Annabeth’s.

“I scared you,” he said.

His arms loosened around her, just now realizing how long they’d hugged, but their hands stayed interlocked—like some sort of middle ground.

She regarded him, eyebrows furrowed. “I can’t ever be scared of you,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re my best friend, Perce.”

He looked away. “Everyone else was.”

“I should have gone to you after—I just...I thought you were angry at me.”

Their hands separated. “Why would I be angry at you?”

“Because I let you handle all of it alone. The monster, the campers—”

“‘Beth.” He took her hands again, cupping them with his. “I couldn’t ever be angry at you.”

“That’s not true,” she said wryly.

An observation, not an accusation. Still, that didn’t make it hurt any less. He recalled the shouting, the fights. The only thing they looked for in those moments was to hurt the other, twist and pull at any chink in the armor they could find.

She winced, remembering that, too. “Sorry.”

His mouth twitched. “You’ve said ‘sorry’ too many times. It’s getting repetitive.”

She hit his shoulder playfully. “Well, I mean it.”

He didn’t retort anything back. They found peace in this lake, once again gazing at the horizon.

“It’s not true what you said, either,” he said, his mind lingering on what she’d told him earlier. “You’re scared, as well.”

The sound of the incoming crickets carried on in Annabeth’s hesitation.

That is, until she said, “I am. Scared. I’m scared.” He glanced over. She was staring in his direction, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Neither did I.”

She laughed, breathless. “See that’s what scares me. What else can you do? Honestly?”

He shrugged, turning away from her.

“How’d you do that, anyway?”

“I defeated it, didn’t I?” It was better to deflect than to answer her question.

Defeating the monster should’ve been what mattered, anyway.

“Percy.”

“Annabeth,” he said, in the same condescending tone.

“All I’m saying is that you could hurt yourself. You don’t know what you’re capable of. And then when your birthday happens—”

“You think I’m going to destroy Olympus or something?” He shook his head. “I should’ve known that you’d side with the gods on that, too. You think that they should kill me?”

“What? Percy, I’d never—”

He whirled, facing her, and finally let go of all those pent-up thoughts that just like the sea, wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Just admit it, Annabeth! Admit that it freaked you out that I blood bended or whatever the fuck Chiron called it! Admit, that it freaked you out how I killed that monster! That I’m fucking cursed!”

“Percy Jackson, you are not—”

“Yes, I am. Why would my dad give me powers like that? Huh? Just say it with me: you’re scared—of me.”

Her eyes were red, face hard as stone. Just like her voice when she said, “Look. I just wanted to help. But if you want to sit in your self pity, then go for it! You clearly don’t need me.”

She made no move to leave, however.

Their eyes held, until the anger from both of them melted. He huffed out a breath, shoulders hunching. “We can’t ever stop fighting, can we?”

She sighed.

“Guess not.”

“I won’t do that again.”

She lifted her chin. “Why?”

“Like you said. Scared you.”

That made her purse her lips.

“You’re not cursed, Percy. You know that, right?”

She reached for his hand. It was becoming a strange routine. Finding comfort in hand holding and then dismantling it as if it never happened.

“You’re mostly right all the time, so.” He squeezed her hand. “I s’pose I’m not cursed, then.”

“I’m right most of the time?” she said, eyes twinkling.

“Okay, fine,” he conceded. “You’re right only sometimes.”

She opened her mouth in mock-offense. “Percy Jackson—”

He cut her off with his laugh, a laugh that fit with the music of the crickets. She rolled her eyes, something that he’d missed achingly, now that he saw her do it for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Scooting closer, she nudged him. “I could help you. Alongside Clarisse.”

His eyes widened. “You knew about that?”

“She’s my friend, too.”

“Of course she is,” he muttered.

Him and Clarisse...they might’ve had a rocky relationship when he’d first arrived at camp, but now, he didn’t know what he’d do without her help—without her friendship. They both understood the other in a bizzare, not very common way. She’d helped him hone in his powers, but it had yet to be something he’d wanted to admit to Annabeth. To everyone else, for that matter.

“I get why you didn’t want to tell me,” she said. “But...I do want to help. You’re my best friend, and, and I also want to spend time with you. If...that’s alright.”

“It’s alright by me.”

Annabeth gave him a look.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He tried for a smile. “I guess you could come along, then.”

His grin was shared with her, though her eyes were serious. “You’ll see. We’ll figure out your powers. What you can do, why you can do it, why the sea is affecting you…”

“All of it?”

She nodded. “All of it.”

They left it at that, though what they didn’t leave was the canoe pier. Not until the sun hid under the trees, spilling its ink of reds and oranges across the horizon.

The golden of the sun was replaced by the silver of the moon for the night, then it rose again for the day.

And in between, the waves lapped against the shore, constant and content. The ocean had calmed. For now.

#percy jackson #pjo fic #percabeth #percabeth fic #powerful percy jackson #look mom i can write #pre tlo #percy jackon and the olympians #chb #also don't judge i just finished this #i pormised syd i'd post it today and i did!!#pogo🤸‍♀️

194 notes · View notes

percabethfeelsfandom · 3 years

Text

Writing Prompt AU: Childhood Best Friends to Lovers

PART 5: Age 16

Luke and Thalia break up on homecoming night.

It’s only an hour into the night when Percy watches Luke drag Thalia out of the hall and into the parking lot. Even though it’s been months since Percy has hung out with either of them, he keeps an eye on the two, watching as their silhouettes point accusatory fingers at each other.

Annabeth and Grover, who he came to the dance with, are swaying playfully on the dance floor, but he waves them over and nods to the open door that Thalia left, exposing her and Luke as they shout at each other.

“Should we check on them?” Grover asks, biting his thumb anxiously. Percy shrugs and watches Annabeth. Well, at this point, he’s always watching Annabeth, especially tonight because she’s in a dress he’s never seen before, and it’s the colour of the sea, his favourite.

“Annabeth?”

“It’s not our business,” she says softly, but her eyes never leave the couple. Percy nods, and keeps his eyes trained on them, worry growing in his throat as Thalia steps closer to Luke, getting in his personal space.

Even from here, Percy can feel Luke’s anger, it’s potent and vile and he almost doesn’t recognise it on his old friend’s face. He’s about to tell Annabeth that they should intervene when someone lightly taps him on the shoulder. He whirls around, surprised, and forces a smile onto his face when he sees that it’s Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

“Hey Percy.”

Her voice catches Grover and Annabeth’s attention and they both turn to look at her as well. She doesn’t buckle under their gaze, keeping her bright eyes on Percy like she’s on a mission.

“Hey Rachel, what’s up?”

“I was wondering if maybe you wanted to dance?” She says it confidently, but as soon as she’s done, she bites her lip and starts swaying back and forth on her feet like she can’t stand still.

Dread fills Percy’s body and he struggles to come up with a nice way to say no because he really does not want to dance, not right now.

Rachel must see it on his face because she gives him a sad smile and nods slowly. More dread fills his body and he glances anxiously to his friends at his side who are also waiting for an answer. Annabeth is frowning deeply and Grover has this sort of amused look on his face.

“Right, that’s okay, uh, have a nice-” She starts and begins to walk away. Percy sighs and quickly reaches out, grabbing her wrist, when she pulls back he lets go quickly and holds his hands up in surrender.

“Wait- Rachel. Sorry,” he stutters unsure of why he stopped her. He can feel his friends gaze on him as he speaks to Rachel but he doesn’t turn, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Rachel asks, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

“Yes, I’ll dance.” Her face instantly brightens and he holds out a hand, which she takes.

Before he properly leaves, he quickly turns to Grover and Annabeth, whose mouth is wide open.

“Come get me if something happens with Thals and Luke.” Grover nods but Annabeth just stares after him like he’s speaking another language. He ignores the tight knot in his stomach and lets Rachel lead him to the dance floor, placing his hands lightly on her waist.

“What made you change your mind?”

“Hmm?”

“You weren’t going to dance with me, what made you change your mind?” Percy blushes at the bluntness of her words and tries to come up with another excuse. As they’re swaying to the music, he steps back and spins her a bit as the song reaches the chorus.

When he can’t think of an excuse he tells the truth.

“I wanted to see if I would feel a difference.” Rachel frowns and tilts her head at him confused. “I- uh, like someone else, and I’ve been trying to stop. I thought maybe if I danced with someone else I would feel different about them.”

“Why do you want to stop liking them?” Rachel doesn’t even seem fazed that he’s just confessed he likes someone else.

“Because she, I don’t know, I think she likes someone else, but she doesn’t realise it. So it’s just easier if I don��t like her.” Rachel loops her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, so close he can smell her floral perfume. It matches the brightly coloured flowers on her dress.

“Well if I’m not mistaken, Annabeth hasn’t taken her eyes off of us the entire dance so I think you’re all good Percy.”

“What?” Instantly he pulls his gaze away from Rachel and turns around wildly to look at where he last saw Annabeth. She’s not looking when he sees her, but he does catch sight of her flicking quick glances at him in between her conversation with Grover as the song ends and as Rachel walks him back to them.

“How’d you know?” He asks Rachel, trying to figure out what gave him away.

“Just a feeling. You should tell her.” When Percy doesn’t answer Rachel smiles and wiggles her fingers as a goodbye. “Thanks for the dance Percy, I’ll see you around.”

He lifts a hand up as well, still too surprised at how easily she was able to read him.

“Have fun?” Annabeth asks with pursed lips.

Percy shrugs, “Yeah I guess. She’s pretty cool.”

“Hmph.”

Annabeth turns back to facing the door so that she can watch Thalia and Luke (who are still fighting) while Percy turns to Grover behind her back and tries to ask Grover what her problem is via extreme facial expressions. Grover scrunches his shoulders up and shrugs, saying he doesn’t know and Percy sighs, running a hand through his hair.

Out of nowhere, Annabeth’s hand slaps his wrist.

“Hey!”

“Stop messing up your hair.” She says, without turning to him.

“Who are you, my Mom?” He asks and keeps messing it up because it feels weird all gelled down and sticky.

“No but you never have your hair like that and I want nice photos of us later.”

“I look like an idiot.”

“That’s because you are, Seaweed Brain.”

“Whatever.”

“Oh shut-”

A loud crack catches both of their attention and they both turn to the direction of the sound and see Thalia standing at the doorway, her fury tangible in her stance as she walks towards them. Behind her Percy barely glimpses a look at Luke who is cradling his face, blood seeping from his nose, where Percy assumes Thalia has just punched him.

He doesn’t even fully register that she’s come up to them until she’s talking.

“I know you probably hate me right now, but I can’t be here anymore. I’ll explain everything, but can one of you take me home please.”

Annabeth is already opening her purse and handing the keys to Percy. He’s the better driver out of the two, and she’s already wrapping her arms around Thalia, who is fighting back tears.

In less than 5 minutes the four of them are packed in Annabeth’s Dad’s old car and Percy is carefully pulling out of the parking lot and taking them to Annabeth’s house.

Thalia doesn’t speak until they’re all situated in Annabeth’s room. Percy has taken off his second-hand suit jacket, loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, and Grover is pulling clothes from Annabeth’s drawer, throwing pieces at Percy so they can both change into comfier clothes.

As he’s about to change Annabeth pokes him sharply.

“Photos Percy!” She reminds, and he rolls his eyes, rebuttoning his shirt.

Thalia waits for them to settle, Percy and Annabeth on her bed, and Grover on the window sill before she speaks.

“Okay, so I want to start by saying sorry. It’s been months since I’ve spoken to any of you and I totally get if you hate me for that, but I do have a reason, but also it’s okay if you don’t forgive me because I wouldn’t forgive me either.”

“Thals,” Annabeth whispers. She looks like she’s about to cry and Percy can see her hands fidgeting like they want to move and grab something. He reaches over to her bedside table and gives her a fidget toy, and then carefully takes her other hand, rubbing soothing circles around the top of her palm.

She doesn’t say anything, but she squeezes his palm in thanks.

“Let me talk first Annabeth before you say anything. I want to make sure I say this all right.”

So she talks. Thalia starts from the beginning, how she’s always loved Luke, and how when he moved, she called him each day, and they never lost contact, and how him turning up wasn’t a surprise to her because they’d been talking about it for months already. She talks about how it was her first relationship with someone ever, and she’d never liked someone this much in her life, so she didn’t realise that spending every breathing moment with him wasn’t normal. At one point Thalia takes off her suit jacket and loosens her own tie. Annabeth offers a change of clothes but Thalia shakes her head, determined to continue with the story. She continues to say that Luke started acting differently when they officially started dating, started telling Thalia not to hang out with them because he only wanted to spend time with her, and that they were saying things about her behind her back.

“I knew it wasn’t true, but I didn’t want to fight with him, everything felt so perfect when we were together. I just wanted us to not fight. So I let him pull me away from you guys.”

This time when Annabeth squeezes Percy’s hand, it’s in warning, because he realises that he’s using her hand as a stress ball. He apologises silently by letting go, and loosely threading their fingers together so that he doesn’t accidentally hurt her.

“It didn’t get bad until last summer when I told him that I missed you guys and that I wanted to be friends with you again. It got even worse when I told him that I might like girls as well as guys.”

Percy sees her hold her breath as she says the last part and feels his face split open into a grin.

“Me too,” he says simply and the smile that Thalia gives him back is enough for Percy to forgive her of everything. I’m proud of you, he mouths so that he doesn’t interrupt her story.

“I don’t know why it was such a big issue, but he kept bringing it up. He never went a day without saying something about it, and it was never nice. I hated it. He made me feel like I wasn’t allowed to like both, and I realised that I just wasn’t happy with him. I was so sad all the time, and all I wanted was to talk to you guys but he was always there. At the gym tonight, I knew that the only way he’d actually let me break up with him was if it was public. So that’s what I did.”

Annabeth pushes off the bed and throws herself onto Thalia. Percy and Grover are quick to follow until they’re a tangle of limbs, suits and dress (in Annabeth’s case) on the ground. Grover and Thalia are crying and holding each other tightly, and Annabeth has wrapped her arms around Thalia’s torso. It kind of reminds Percy of a koala and he pulls out his phone to take a photo of the three of them, immortalising this moment.

“So what did he think when you showed up wearing that?” Percy asks, nodding at the fitted suit Thalia wears, “Looks awesome by the way,” he adds.

Thalia scoffs.

“I thought his head was going to explode.” They all laugh and Percy rejoins them on the floor, ending up laying in Annabeth’s lap as they all hold onto each other, making up for time wasted.

“I can’t believe Luke is such a jackass,” Percy says with a shake of his head.

“Do you think he had a particular reason why he was like that towards you Thals? Is there something happening at his home?” Annabeth asks and Percy turns to her with an incredulous look.

“Wise Girl, come on, no matter how crappy a person's home life is, that doesn’t mean you can project that onto someone you care about. Like look at me, you don’t see me being an ass to you just because Gabe was the worst step-father in the world.”

“What happened with Gabe?” Thalia asks, sitting up abruptly when she hears his name but Percy waves her off.

“Nothing important. He just wasn’t a good person, but we don’t live with him anymore. Mom’s dating Paul and she’s happy and that’s all that matters to me.”

Thaila looks like she wants to say more but Annabeth cuts in.

“I’m not trying to make excuses for him, I just wanted to ask because that really doesn’t sound like the Luke I know,” she pauses when she sees Thalia’s face fall, “That doesn’t mean I don’t believe you...I really do. I just- I want to hear his side of it too you know? But I’ll stand by you no matter what.”

Thalia nods slowly and takes Annabeth’s outstretched hand.

“The Luke you know is very different to the Luke that I dated Annabeth. He’s changed a lot. He pretends he hasn’t, but he has and none of it is good. Even if you get his side of the story, I don’t think he’d tell the truth. I swear, on my brother and on my Mom, everything I’ve said is true. But if you want to ask him to double-check, I won’t stop you.”

Annabeth does end up asking Luke for his side of the story, and her decision still baffles Percy to this day, but Thalia reassures him that it’s for her own sanity.

“Luke and Annabeth were a lot closer than you remember I think. It really hurt Annabeth when he stopped talking to her. I think it hurt him too, I never knew why, but I think he had a thing for her at one point, but he chose me.”

That old familiar sting of jealousy holes up in Percy’s stomach as he waits for Annabeth to come back and meet them at her car.

“Do you think he still does? Like her, that is?” The words are like cotton in his mouth, suffocating and hard to speak around.

“Maybe. Wouldn’t be surprised if she does too. She never told me, but I always had a feeling.”

Oh.

Percy nods, unable to bring himself to say anything and waits in silence. Annabeth comes walking down the steps, wiping her eyes and Percy’s instincts kick in, and he’s running to her, pulling her close to his chest and holding her there.

“What did he do? Are you okay?” He asks when she finally pushes him away slightly. Her eyes are still watering but she smiles and pokes him in the cheek.

“I’m okay. Let’s go home.”

She lets him lead her into the car, he drops Thalia off first before pulling up at Annabeth’s.

“Come in?”

He nods and follows her soundlessly to her room. He unwraps his scarf and hangs his jacket on a hook, like he has many times before and sets himself on her bed, playing with her old stuffed toys as she slowly undoes her coat, clearly distracted.

“Thals was right. Luke is- I don’t know who that Luke was.” Annabeth admits.

A selfish part of Percy sighs in relief, and he holds out his arms as a peace offering to Annabeth. She smiles and sits down with him, not quite in his arms, but close enough that Percy isn’t complaining.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.”

“Because you’re sad and I don’t like seeing you sad, especially when I can’t do anything about it.”

“Seaweed Brain you can’t make everyone happy.” She says with a teasing smile.

“I don’t want to make everyone happy, just you.” The words come out before he fully processes thinking it and he swallows thickly when Annabeth stares at him, slightly dumbfounded.

Finally, she moves, and leans down, ever so softly pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“You do make me happy. You always have, don’t doubt that.” Percy can’t help but close his eyes and relish in the warmth she gives him. When he opens his eyes again she’s staring right back at him, like she can see into his soul. He secretly wishes her eyes weren’t so beautiful, because then he wouldn’t have such a problem with looking away, but they’re not, they’re the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen and he never wants to stop.

“You make me happy too.” More than you’ll ever know.

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

PART 4

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympian #heroes of olympus #rick riordan #otp writing prompts #writing prompts #mortal au #percabeth #annabeth chase #thalia grace #grover underwood #luke castellan #sally jackson #rachel elizabeth dare #one shot #fanfiction #childhood best friends to lovers #gabe ugliano #alternate universe

46 notes · View notes

ffangirlingsince2001 · 3 years

Text

The Great Upheaval of Percy Weasley: Black Lingerie

Percy Weasley x OC

Summary: Accidental insults lead to study sessions and answered questions

Warnings: angst, some public making out (still a bit tame, but don’t you worry ;) )

MASTERLIST

black lingerie -n- you said you matched it to the color of your heart but as I undressed your soul I knew you had lied

***

“We’re going to get right into it,” Lupin announced as he passed back the pop quizzes from his first class. Percy glanced down at the paper, almost perfect marks. More surprising, was at the top of his paper, beside his name was Wilton. He looked around in panic.

Had he written that?

Was he already blowing their cover?

“Some of you may have already noticed, but there is a name beside your own. That individual scored the closest to you on the pop quiz, and consequently will be your dueling partner for the rest of the year. Now there will be no need to change seats,” he added as students began groaning about their partners. He wanted to look back and see Elle’s reaction, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know.

He had always been a little hesitant of the girl. She had ‘bad news’ written across her forehead in the same thick liner he had never seen her without. And there were of course the rumors he tried not to put much stock in. Somehow, now that he knew her, she was more intimidating than before, and smarter, and more of an enigma.

Funny how that works out, isn’t it? He knew that while she looked like Halloween, she tasted like May Day. He knew what her skirt felt like in his hands, and he knew that the space between her thighs were warmer than any sweater. He knew how she kissed, and yet he didn’t really know anything about her.

“Hey, head boy,” she said, startling him out of his thoughts. He turned to find her standing behind him, arms crossed with an amused expression, “Are we going to practice or are you going to keep staring at your test.”

“Practice?”

“Nonverbal spells. Weren’t you paying attention?”

“I guess not,” he muttered, and she rolled her eyes before beckoning him to their corner. “I didn’t know you were second in the class, congratulations,” he offered as he followed her. He didn’t know why he had said anything about the grade, it was without tact, but he certainly hadn’t expected her to laugh coldly. A shiver ran down his spine while he placed himself the correct number of paces away, pulling himself together as he tried to shake out the distraction. By the time he was ready, she was already pointing her white, slender wand in his direction. She looked nonchalant and unprepared, but he could tell from the tightness in her wrist she would begin as soon as he did.

He flicked his wand, aiming to disarm her, but she blocked it with ease. He went again, determined to keep her on the defense. They were entirely silent as she gracefully defended every attack he had to offer.

Then he switched from simple disarming to jinxes.

She didn’t miss a beat. Her defensive charms grew stronger until not only were they protecting her but pushing him backwards. They stepped into another group’s area, but it didn’t really matter, their silent lightshow had already captured the rest of the class’s attention. Percy even caught sight of Lupin watching them from where he had been helping another group. His back hit a desk as she advanced, something dangerous in her eyes. Using his wand, he whisked it towards her in a desperate attempt to slow her, but she hopped onto the desks surface. She stared down at him, looking like pure power. She threw her first jinx, and then another, and another, almost quicker than he was able to throw up shield charms.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, stinging his eyes, but she didn’t look like she was tired at all. She looked like she had just entered the ring and was prepared to destroy whoever tried to face her.

That just so happened to be Percy.

He could feel the spells getting more dangerous, pushing against every counter curse and defense with no remorse. He stumbled over a chair and hit the ground. Quiet, cool, calculation turned to a smile as she hopped down from the desk, wand still raised. His wand had fallen out of his hand and whatever spell she decided to cast was going to be the end of the duel. She raised it and he scrambled for his wand in a last-ditch effort to keep it going, but a shield formed between them before either could make a move.

“That class, was an excellent demonstration of dueling,” Lupin said, clapping as he stepped forward. He spoke quietly to Elle, but from where Percy lay, he couldn’t hear, he could only see the angry look Elle’s face soften before seizing up again. She opened her mouth the argue, but Lupin must have said something to keep her quiet, because she instantly shoved past him and around the shield charm.

Lupin was chuckling as he helped Percy from the ground, offering him a ‘good job’ before dismissing the class. Percy turned to look for Elle, but she was already there, shoving a piece of parchment into his chest.

“I’m number fucking one,” she snapped before marching away, Dinah doing her best to keep her stride. Percy pulled the parchment from his chest and glanced at her test, a perfect score. His stomach dropped at the sudden explanation. He had become the pompous ass she knew him for by simply assuming she was beneath him. She had certainly proven him wrong, and now he was going to be lucky if she bothered to ever look at him again. As he packed away the books that had been strewn across the floor during their duel, promising himself he would apologize the moment he got a chance.

Which he hoped would be Transfigurations.

He slid into his seat at the front of the classroom and watched as Elle and Dinah whispered in the back of the classroom, the poor lad who had taken Elle’s seat dripping with boredom.

“Ms. Wilton, take your seat,” Professor McGonagall called as she entered the classroom. The girls laughed for a few moments, before Elle slid off the desk and practically swanned to her seat.

“Elle,” he whispered but she ignored him, not that he blamed her. She took her notes and ignored every possible thing he did to capture her attention. When class ended, she jumped up as quickly as she could manage. All he could do was run after her.

“Elle, Elle,” he called down the corridor after the pair. Suddenly, Dinah whirled around while Elle continued to look away.

“Are you looking to get your ass kicked again, because I promise I won’t be as nice as my friend,” Dinah snapped, drawing her wand. The hallway around them seemed to freeze, almost every pair of eyes seemed to stare at the badge shining brightly on his chest. Even Dinah seemed to flicker as she remembered who she was speaking to, but it only lasted a moment before she inched closer, sticking the tip of her wand against the gold.

“I’m sorry, Elle,” he announced, doing his best to ignore Dinah’s glare, “It was a stupid arrogant thing to say, and I’m sorry.” Much to his relief, she turned around, lowering Dinah’s arm as she did so.

“I’ll meet you in Herbology.”

“Elle-.”

“Do you not think I can handle a Weasley?” she snapped. Had it been any other time, Percy would have felt indignant, but he was going to take every sort of verbal abuse she had to offer if it meant she was going to forgive him. Dinah glared at him one more time before turning on her five-inch heels and marching away. “And the rest of you, get to class before the Head boy has to take house points.”

No one moved, points and orders meant almost nothing when a fight was about to break out.

“Go,” he yelled into the silent corridor. A few beats passed before begrudging feet shuffled away, leaving them alone in the corridor. “I’m sorry-.”

“I heard.” He shifted nervously, desperately thinking back to everything he knew about her. He had never groveled before, and before that moment he was sure he never would.

“I want you to study for our N.E.W.Ts with me. I only want to study with the best, and that’s clearly you.” He took a small step back as she narrowed her eyes, waiting for the jinx that was sitting on her tongue to lash out.

“Alright, library at six?” He blinked, and then again. He couldn’t believe it; he was still alive, and she had agreed. She waved her hand in front of his face, “Earth to Percy?”

“Yeah, six.”

“Don’t be late,” she ordered before offering him the smallest little grin. It disappeared as quickly as it came, and she whirled away, hurrying off to her next class. He watched the two braids down her back wave him goodbye. Frankly, they were the only thing that stopped him from watching her hips instead.

He shook the image of skirt swishing back and forth, coughing, and checking to make sure that no one had noticed his moment of weakness. When he was satisfied there was no one hiding behind corners, he briskly made his way to the common room. If he was going to keep up with her, he needed to be a little ahead.

The trip, that should have been quick and without interruption, was hijacked by none other than Fred and George. They were rushing around a corner excitedly, but when they saw him their excitement quickly dropped.

“We heard you were getting beat up,” George announced.

“But you seem free of bruises,” Fred finished, both approaching him skeptically, searching for the nonexistent contusions.

“I don’t know who told you that, but I am not getting beat up.”

“So, Dinah Baker didn’t pull her wand on you after Transfiguration?”

“And Elle Wilton didn’t send everyone away so she could absolutely pummel you into the ground?”

“She didn’t send everyone away to pummel me,” Percy snapped and both boys sagged in disappointment.

“That’s too bad. It probably would’ve been the most action you ever got.”

“Yeah, probably the first and last time a girl ever put her hands on you.”

“I’d let Wilton pummel me, she’s a right babe.”

“Very true, Fred, very true.”

“And that rack of hers.”

“I heard Davies ran into her during the rain once, claims he could see right through her shirt.”

“Black lingerie?”

“Black lingerie.”

Percy was fuming. He wanted to interrupt, to punch one of them, but he remained still, doing his best to keep his breathing even. Attacking his brother was not how a head boy should behave, and there was nothing more suspicious than defending a girl he barely talked to in public.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that they had piqued his curiosity about the under-workings of Elle Wilton’s wardrobe.

“Last year she patched me up after Quidditch practice, and I swear she was all over me.”

“Are you sure that wasn’t all the painkillers?”

“Hey!”

“Are you two done?” Percy asked as casually as he could manage. They both turned to look at him. It seemed they had forgotten he was even there. “I have things to attend to, and if I catch either of you sneaking into the girl’s dormitory, I will not hesitate to take fifteen points from you both.” The twins rolled their eyes before pushing past him.

He took a deep breath and promised himself not to think about black lingerie.

And it worked too, until six when she arrived in the library, not wearing her uniform. It wasn’t ridiculous, but it certainly wasn’t what he was used to. He should have called her over, raised his hand, anything, but he couldn’t stop staring long enough to control his motor skills.

The flared plaid had been traded for a solid black skirt that was much tighter… and much shorter. The combat boots and fishnets were still present, but they seemed more dangerous than before. The neckline of her top was high, and the sleeves were long, but the red fabric was so tight it didn’t really leave much to the imagination. He shifted beneath the desk as he rose a hand, hoping to catch her attention without drawing too much to himself. Her eyes landed on his and she grinned, pushing towards the table he had chosen.

She sat down, pulling out her books as she went. He tried not to stare, he really did, but could anyone really blame him, when she looked like that, and when he knew that if he asked she was going to let him touch… that.

“You changed,” he blurted, and then prepared himself a Draught of Living Death right there. His big mouth had already gotten him in trouble once today, and here he was blurting out whatever came to mind. She looked up from her bag and smirked.

“It is technically the weekend; you’re not going to take points from me, are you?”

“What? No, I just noticed.”

“Thank you for noticing then.” Somehow, he had survived. “Also, I want to apologize for what happened in Lupin’s class, my temper got ahead of me.”

“It was my fault, I shouldn’t have assumed, and trust me, I won’t underestimate you again. That was excellent magic, I wasn’t kidding when I said I want to learn from the best.”

“Oh,” was all she said, and for a moment he thought she might be blushing, “I hope I live up to your expectations.”

“I’m sure you will.” She was definitely blushing now. “Shall we get into it?” he asked, doing his best to save her and she quickly nodded, burying herself into her charms essay.

They both worked for hours, only speaking to ask questions about something that had been mentioned in class, or an odd concept discussed in the book; and it was enjoyable. Percy had never once considered that one day he would enjoy sitting across a table from Elle Wilton as they studied. He wasn’t even convinced she studied before today, but now she was sitting across from him, a stain on her lip from where she held her quill as she slunk deeper into thought.

Suddenly, she slammed her book shut and stood.

“Want to come to the restricted section?”

“You need a note?”

“I have a permanent note, plus we’re in advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, that’s automatic admittance.” She slid past Madam Pince, offering her a smug smile to which she responded with a glare. It was clear they were not one another’s biggest fans. She pushed through the gate and began perusing the shelves, clearly looking for something.

“What are you looking for?”

“Unforgivable Curses.” That did not exactly answer his question.

“Any book in particular?”

“No, anything that focuses on their creation will be perfect.”

“What for?”

“Lupin’s essay.”

“What’s your topic?”

“Why Defense Charms are useless against Unforgivable Curses. It has something to do with how they were created, but our book isn’t specific in what manner, so I’m hoping that…” she explained, trailing off as something caught her eye. She took a step back and pressed up on her toes. “Yes, that’s got to be it.” The book she was pointing at was silver, the words “Unforgivable Curses” emblazoned into the side with dark black ink.

It was a few shelves higher than she could reach, but that didn’t stop her from trying, or her skirt from rising up her thighs as she stretched for the desired book. Percy reprimanded his wandering eyes and reached for it over her head. He barely brushed the bottom of the spine but managed to pull it down without too much effort. She turned around, taking the book from his hands, staring up at him as she leaned against the shelf, smirking all the while.

He wasn’t quite sure what she was smirking about until he realized what it would look like if someone turned the corner. His arm was stretched above her, gripping the shelf as he leaned over her, a leg situated between hers. He jumped back and she had the audacity to laugh.

“Don’t act as if we’ve never been in that position before,” she teased as he sputtered with indignation.

“We’re in the library.”

“Yeah, not a church.”

“Anyone could see.”

“It’s the Restricted Section, how many people come in here on a busy day, let alone a Friday?” She was smirking at him again, always smirking when she knew she was about to win. Though, in this case he wasn’t inclined to stop her. She crooked a finger forward and he obeyed, hovering over her once more, leaning down to capture her lips in his. She responded wholeheartedly, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hand slipped to her skirt and he might have let it wander beneath it if Fred and George’s voices didn’t fill his head with the conversation from earlier.

‘Black Lingerie,’ they seemed to repeat, until suddenly he was sure their voices weren’t just in his head. He pulled away, and sure enough just outside the Restricted Section were his two very loud brothers.

“Those idiots again. I already had to fight them off once today. They were convinced I beat you up earlier,” she groaned as she pushed Percy away, fixing her skirt as she marched towards the entrance. He followed her, but she pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “Just wait here, they’ll be gone before you know it.” He hid in the shadows as she pushed her way back into the main portion of the library.

“Where’s Percy?” one of them, who he could only presume was Fred, yelled over Madam Pince’s insistent hushing. “You’ve killed him, haven’t you?”

“He’s looking for a book, which often happens in a library. Not that either of you would know anything about that.” A beat of silence passed before his brothers burst into laughter.

“And you do? C’mon Wilton we know you’re only here to beat him up in private.” Percy could practically hear Elle’s eyeroll.

“If I go get him, and prove that he’s not dead will you leave?”

“Only if you kiss me too.” Percy was ready to charge out after her now, but from the way the library grew decibels quieter, he had a good feeling that she was going to take care of it. Another beat of silence passed before her voice filled the air. It was low and dangerous, and even Percy was a little worried for his younger brother.

“If you ever insinuate anything like that ever again, I will make sure the next morning you wake up in Timbuktu thinking you’re a French salesman who recently donated his prick to a local charity, do you understand me?” A beat of silence passed. “I can’t hear you.”

“Yes,” his brother whispered and then the atmosphere returned to normal.

“Excellent, now do you still want to see Percy or are you feeling ready to retire for the night?” Scampering footsteps followed her question and before he knew it, she returned to where he had been listening. He blinked at her and she smiled, dragging him further into the dark aisles of the restricted section.

“Where have you been all my life?” he stuttered, and she laughed before pushing him against a shelf and pulling him down to meet her lips.

“Wait, wait,” he gasped pushing her away.

“If you’re really the uncomfortable about the library we can go.”

“No, no that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” Percy swallowed nervously, but he was sure if he didn’t ask, he was going to keep hearing their voices.

“Do you wear black lingerie?” Thankfully, she didn’t seem at all put out by the question, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to end up as a French salesman.

“Not today, but sometimes, why do you ask?” she laughed.

“No reason,” he replied, swooping down, and kissing her before she had time to ask any more questions. She responded with zealous, and he smirked against her lips. He was sure he had just found another surprise about the enigma he was holding in his arms, a surprise he was excited to witness all on his own.

Taglist: @andromedasstarship @danadeacon

#percy weasley #percy weasley fanfiction #percy weasley fanfic #percy weasley imagines #percy weasley imagine #percy weasley angst #percy weasley smut #percy weasley fluff #percy weasley x reader #percy weasley x reader angst #percy weasley x reader fluff #percy weasley x reader smut #Percy Weasley x reader imagine #Percy Weasley x OC #percy weasley x oc angst #percy weasley x oc smut #percy weasley x oc fanfiction #percy weasley x oc fluff

155 notes · View notes

charlieweasleyxmc · 3 years

Text

Christmas

at the

Burrow

She could feel the cold of the stone as she padded across it on bare feet.

“Where are your shoes?” Dora exclaimed as she emerged into the (Y/H) common room.

“What?”

“Charlie,” Dora gawked at her. “He said he was leaving for home an hour ago.”

(Y/N) gaped, sweeping so quickly past the decorations in their dormitory that she sent a floating present spinning in the air across the room. It looked as though some of her roommates that were staying at Hogwarts were already getting their dormitory into the Christmas mood.

She dashed out with her case barely closed and a pair of boots and coat pulled over her pajamas, sprinting for the great hall. She stumbled out into the opening hall a few moments later.

And there, standing with their trucks packed by their sides and their coats on, were five familiar figures with red hair.

The two taller ones, followed by the smaller three, turned towards her.

“(Y/N),” Charlie said smiling, “we were just going to send Fred and George to go get you. The twins grinned, and all of them seemed to catch her disheveled appearance. “You didn’t think we were going to leave without you, did you?”

(Y/N) grinned, feeling very foolish as she felt one of the bottoms of her pajama pants falling out of her snow boot.

“Of course not. This is how I like to travel,” she said with a wink. “Ready to go?”

She leaned down to tuck the corner of her pajama pants back into her boot. Charlie smiled and stepped forward to grab the handle of her trunk with his free hand.

“Just so you know,” he whispered, leaning towards her. “We wouldn’t have left without you.” A smiled grin graced his features and (Y/N) dimly heard Bill requesting them all to come on.

(Y/N) moved past Charlie and they walked to join the others.

“Good to see you, Bill,” (Y/N) smiled up at the familiar twin pair of hazel eyes.

Bill beamed at her; “ready for Christmas at the burrow?”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to answer, catching Charlie’s smile out of the corner of her vision when she was interrupted.

“You better be ready,” Fred said.

“Good luck,” George sang.

“You’re gonna need it,” Fred countered.

Crystalline spheres of ice twinkled past, the light catching off them just right so that they sparkled in (Y/N)’s vision. Traveling by broom wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the middle of December with the first snow falling down. But she was grateful for the tiny muggle heater attached to the broom, shrunken and spelled by Mr. Weasley so that each of the kids would have a warm broom as they flew. She was more than thankful for this as she traveled in her cotton pajama pants and a fingerless pair of gloves. The warm broom beneath her seemed to warm her to her very core.

A shout came from her left and (Y/N) flicked her head around to see one of the twins, Fred or George—she couldn’t tell—picking up speed and racing past the rest of them. He was speeding towards a dark blob in the distance, long vertically, that (Y/N) could not make out through the hazy snow pelting past her face.

Another shout followed the first and the other twin followed behind the first. (Y/N) stayed back with the other three Weasley brothers, Percy on her right, Charlie on her left, and Bill behind them. The building slowly came into view as they came in and eventually, (Y/N) could make out doors and windows when they finally landed in the yard less than a hundred meters away.

Percy hopped off his broom, grabbing it with one hand as he raced after the twins, who had disappeared through the brown wooden door.

(Y/N) lightly slipped off, turning to meet Bill and Charlie as they got off their own brooms and fell into stride beside them. She blinked up as they approached the stone and wooden building, a twisted and lopsided collection of haphazardly stacked pieces that looked as they would have fallen much longer ago than the wood seemed old if not having been held up or put together by some kind of magic.

Bill and Charlie chatted beside her, one of them saying how excited they were for something that their mother was making. They stopped just long enough for Charlie to separate from them to open the plain wooden door.

Bill held out an arm, gesturing for her to enter first.

She did, stepping into the warmth, she hadn’t realized how cold she was from that short walk to the house. Her pants, she realized, were soaked, and the rest of her hadn’t faired much better. But all of it was immediately surrounded by warmth as she took a couple steps into the house, leaving just enough room for Charlie and Bill to enter in behind her. It was a haphazard room, the collection of household items put here and there in no obvious recognition of order. The colors were mostly of warm hues. (Y/N) caught sight of a set of knitting needles clicking away on their own above a cushioned sitting chair and a broom swept past in front of her.

“Where are your brothers?” she heard a woman’s voice call from one of the adjoining rooms, blocked from view.

Excited boys voices chattered and Bill and Charlie moved past her through one of the open doorways. She followed behind them cautiously.

And into a world of heavenly smells.

It was only then that she realized that some of the warmth she had been feeling was from the smells wafting through to the entrance.

Cinnamon. Ginger. Chocolate. Roasted chestnuts. Cranberries. Apples.

They all filled her system and (Y/N) unconsciously lifted her nose up to them as she entered the little kitchen. A woman, her round form partially obstructed by the twins currently hugging her, raised her arms out to the two new arrivals. Charlie, and then Bill, falling into her arms for a quick greeting embrace.

“Dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, one of her hands lingering on Bill’s head, “You’re hair has grown much too long. I need to cut it before tonight.”

Bill shook his head, saying nothing as he moved away, Mrs. Weasley’s vision now unobstructed from what lied beyond them.

“(Y/N)!” Mrs. Weasley beamed, lightly brushing off the twins to step forward and wrap (Y/N) in a similar embrace to her own children. “Oh dear,” she said, her face immediately dropping as she pulled away, “you look absolutely run out. Ron!”

Another ginger head popped through the door.

“Take (Y/N) and her trunk up to Ginny’s room. She needs to change before brunch. All of you do,” Mrs. Weasley said, spying the wet marks that her boys had left on her clothes. She shooed them out the door, causing all of them to hustle towards the stairs, (Y/N) following behind the small ten year old redhead. Charlie waved goodbye to her on one of the landings as Ron led her into a young girl’s room.

The girl in question, her fiery red haired wreathed around her pillow as she lay on her bed, her ankles clicking together in front of her, looked up from the book she had been reading to grin at (Y/N).

“Oh! You’re finally here,” she said jumping up. “Borrow anything you’d like,” she said, sprinting past the boy and (Y/N), out the door and stumbling up the steps outside. Ron gave (Y/N) a shrug before following after the fiery redhead girl.

(Y/N) looked around. A collection of posters lined the walls, mostly quidditch, but she spied a few other posters, including a Weird Sisters poster. The snow drifted outside the glass pane of the window, but the room was completely clothed in warmth, not too much, just enough to be cozy, but not overbearing. It was like a gentle hug in here, with good air flow. (Y/N) grabbed the trunk Ron had left by the door and swung it open, picking out the clothes she wanted to change into.

(Y/N) heard a sound like a griffin moaning as she descended the stairs. The sounds got louder all the way up until she entered the lovely smelling kitchen. Charlie sat in a tall chair, his mother clipping away at his ginger locks, and him making now smaller sounds of protest as they fell to the ground.

Apparently, being unable to get her hands on Bill, Mrs. Weasley had satisfied herself with chopping off Charlie’s shorter set of locks.

(Y/N) put a hand to her mouth, stifling her snort.

“Oh yeah,” Charlie hummed blinking his eyes to her, “laugh it up, find joy in my pain. Please. I don’t mind.”

A snort came out before she could stifle it as she heard Bill laughing beside her before she saw him.

Charlie rolled his eyes at them overdramatically and gave them a good humored pout.

“You gotta hold a stronger line, little brother,” Bill said, “or she’ll walk all over you and shear you every time you come home, leaving you with nothing left.”

“I’ll try that next time,” Charlie said with a good natured sigh as he stared at the ginger strands of hair littering the ground before him.

Holding her next chuckle in behind her hand, (Y/N)’s eyes flicked to the dining room table behind the set of Weasleys, where a small redheaded girl, Ginny presumably, was arguing with Ron about how lazy he was being. The boy in question was sitting in one of the dining room chairs as Ginny was setting the table for brunch.

As if drawn by some sort of spell, (Y/N) felt herself pulled across the kitchen on enchanted feet, stopping only once her tether had landed her at the edge of the rounded table.

There were sausage rolls, their edges just slightly golden brown to indicate their perfectly cooked temperature, still steaming with the warmth coming off of them and the spices beneath. There was pumpkin juice, Yorkshire pudding, and fresh strawberries. How Mrs. Weasley had managed to get fresh strawberries in the middle of winter, (Y/N) had no idea, but the smell coming off of all of it was intoxicating. Indeed, (Y/N) would never tell them, but she did not think even the House Elves could have created this meal. It was not the style of a perfectly professional feast, but a home-cooked meal cooked to a perfection professionals never would be able to reach when not in their own home.

Mrs. Weasley had finished creating her brunch meal and it looked like the delight of (Y/N)’s lifetime.

The cider already felt like it was warming (Y/N) to her core and she hadn’t even drunken any yet.

“Tuck in, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, finishing off her sheering of Charlie’s head from the kitchen area. “We don’t stand on ceremony for morning meals. Too many hungry stomachs and impatient mouths.”

Digging into the meal was like choosing her classes for N.E.W.T. She didn’t know where to go to first. Did she inhale a sausage roll, start with some strawberries, or stick her whole face into the syrup Mrs. Weasley was now bringing over for the Yorkshire pudding.

The others didn’t seem to have any hesitation. With reckless abandon, the Weasley siblings devoured the food before them as though it was something they got every day, and (Y/N) supposed, that between living at the Burrow and the House Elf supplied meals at Hogwarts, it was. It was only after brunch had rolled to an ending, the lot of them stuffed as though they were planning on becoming the Christmas turkey themselves, that (Y/N) felt like she was at home, waddling over to the sofa that Charlie sat on in the sitting room by the back door.

“Don’t get too comfortable boys,” Mrs. Weasley called from the kitchen where she was already hard at work preparing the Christmas Eve dinner. (Y/N) glanced back to see a turkey levitating in the air and basting flinging around the room, guided by her wand. “I’ll need you to go pick out a tree and decorate it. Your father and I just simply haven’t had the time. He’s been working extra hours for the ministry.”

Charlie sighed from where he sat on the couch, his hands over his bulging belly.

“Alright, Mom,” Bill called from the sofa across from them. “We’ll head out in a few minutes.”

“And won’t you de-gnome the garden while you’re out there?”

Now it was Bill’s turn to groan.

“Mom! Can I join them?” Ginny called back.

“No, Ginny dear. I need you to decorate the inside of the house while they are de-gnoming and gathering the tree.”

Ginny folded her eyes with a sigh.

They all got there few minutes of rest, (Y/N) getting dangerously close to a nap after the food she had eaten, and the soft, plush couch she was sitting on; she started tilting to the side, sliding ever so slowly towards Charlie’s shoulder beside her, but they were all roused when Mr. Weasley came in, his voice booming.

“I heard you took the heated brooms,” he yelled, “how’d it go?”

“Heated brooms,” Mrs. Weasley said quizzically from the kitchen, “some sort of spell, Arthur?”

“Uh…yeah,” Mr. Weasley blushed as he crossed through the sitting room to the kitchen to greet his wife.

A moment later, he popped his head back out and caught (Y/N)’s eyes, “Oh, and good to see you with us this year, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) blushed as Mr. Weasley popped back out of view.

“Well, I think we better get moving before we all pass out in here,” Bill said, jumping to his feet. “Should we split up the work? Fred, George, Percy, and Ron can go de-gnome the garden while Charlie, (Y/N), and I go pick out a tree?

Ron groaned and Percy looked no more thrilled by the plan than he, but Fred and George were already out the door before anyone could say ‘treacle tart.’

(Y/N) grabbed her jacket, which someone had set on one of the hooks by the door, and pulled on her boots, also by the door. Charlie passed her a knitted wool scarf before they headed outside.

In the hours since they had been at the burrow, the snowflakes in the air and gathered on the ground, leaving a layer of white that they trudged through on their way across the field in front of them, to the small wood at the other end. The trees, lightly layered with snow, were hard to see their shape, but, eventually, Bill used a melting spell on them, the snow turning to water in a matter of seconds on a tree of his choice and sliding off to the ground where it froze back into snow again.

“What about that one?” (Y/N) shuffled away from the large tree the twins were looking at to a slightly crooked tree to their right.

Bill spoke a word, causing the snow to fall off the chosen tree with one sweep of his wand.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“I like it,” Charlie beamed at (Y/N), “let’s take it.”

“Alright,” Bill shrugged, aiming his wand at the tree, “diffindo.”

The trunk split with one clean swipe, the tree tilting and then thumping on the ground, free of its earthly bonds.

Charlie waved his hand to (Y/N), “would you like to do the honors.”

A small smile graced her lips, but she pointed her wand at the tree, sweeping it in an arc and then flicking it, “wingardium leviosa.”

The tree rose up a few feet into the air, hovering horizontally where (Y/N)’s wand guided it. Together, they made their way back to the burrow, their victorious tree collection coming along with them as they crossed back over the fields to the home on the other side.

A few hours later, the tree stood above them in the living room, the collection of ornaments hanging from it teetering softly. Fred and George had “found” an angel for the tree, the likes of which looked suspiciously like a frozen and golden-ed gnome with tied on wings, but (Y/N) didn’t ask any questions, preferring instead to admire the tree.

“Looks great, kids,” Mr. Weasley said, as he left the kitchen to come out into the living room, “but I think it’s missing something, don’t you?”

Percy grinned, and the expression was so unexpected on his face that (Y/N) had no idea what to do with it.

Mr. Weasley smiled as he pointed his wand at the tree, “coruscent lux,” he sang as he waved his wand through the air, the tip of it making great curved arcs as he flicked it before the tree.

And (Y/N) tried not to gawk as tiny sparkling orbs of light started to careen out of the end of his wand, floating to the tree, they settled amongst its branches until every inch seemed to have a glowing orb of light sitting there.

(Y/N) failed her attempt not to gawk and she gaped.

“Well, I suggest you kids go out and get a quidditch game going if you want to. I suspect this will be the only few hours you have free for the rest of the day.”

“I don’t think I want to play.”

“Come on, Perce,” Fred whined at him. “We have even numbers. If you don’t play, someone else will have to sit out.”

Percy sighed, but nodded, smiling slightly.

“That’s settled then,” Charlie said, pointing to the groups of people standing there, a collection of worn brooms in their hands. “Bill is terrible, but Fred and George are good so they’ll be on the same team. Percy we’ll be on my team to even things out, and we’ll take (Y/N) and Ginny. Ron can be on the first team.”

“Get ready, big brother,” Fred said, placing his hands together, “we’ve been training Ron as a keeper during the summers. I bet ten galleons he won’t let any one of your quaffles get past.”

“You can’t bet ten galleons when you don’t have two galleons to rub together,” Bill called back to them from where he had already traveled to halfway across the field they had chosen for the game.

(Y/N) grinned as they all followed him.

Fred and George, who she knew were already beaters on the Gryffindor team despite being only in their second year, were surprisingly adept at being chasers as well, and (Y/N), was actually having a hard time at keeping up with them. Despite being quick on a broom, some of her quidditch skills themselves were somewhat lacking and she found herself grateful that they had Charlie and Ginny on their team, picking up for the slack from herself and Percy.

Ron, it seemed, sometimes was pretty good at blocking a goal, and he managed to block everything she and Percy threw at him, even blocking some of Charlie’s shots. But he never, not once, blocked a shot from Ginny. Still, Ron laughed along with the rest of them when one of Charlie’s shots hit him in the face, giving him a bloody nose.

They took a break then, of course, retiring into the burrow after a couple hours of playing to let Mrs. Weasley repair his broken nose.

When Ron returned to the living room, his long nose back in the shape it was supposed to be in, it was to tell them all that Christmas Eve dinner was ready.

They all filed into the dining room, (Y/N) finding herself, once again, stuffing herself to complete fullness.

She woke slowly, first becoming aware of the gentle sunlight blinking through the window at her and then the warm sheets and blankets surrounding her in a cocoon of warmth. She stayed there for a while, just enjoying the burrito like feeling of safety in the warm bed.

Finally, after long moments of enjoying the cushioning bed, (Y/N) sat up, Ginny’s room smiling down at her.

She had complained about taking the other girl’s room for the time being, but Ginny had insisted and Mrs. Weasley had reminded her that Ginny was easily sharing a bed with Mrs. Weasley while Arthur slept on the couch. (Y/N) felt like it was her that should be sleeping on the sofa, but none of the Weasleys seemed to feel that way.

(Y/N) stretched her arms before scooting off the bed and to her feet, calling accio on her wand so that it flew into her hand. She tucked it into the pocket of her pajama pants before heading out the door and down the rickety stairs on bare feet.

She was not the first to arrive in the main room, the lights of the tree still somehow twinkling at her the day after they were made. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, a pair of ginger heads looked up and she grinned.

“Happy Christmas,” Charlie said, his grin equal to matching hers.

“Happy Christmas,” Bill echoed from where he sat on one of the sofas, with a cup of something hot that steamed.

“Happy Christmas,” (Y/N) couldn’t stop smiling as she made her way over to the sofa Charlie sat on.

“Didn’t realize I was the third one awake,” she said, curling her feet beneath her.

“Fifth,” Bill gestured to the back door. “Fred and George have been up for hours. I sent them outside to wear off some energy playing quidditch.”

“That’s not what they’re doing,” Charlie shifted from where he sat.

“Then what are they doing?” Bill countered.

Charlie shrugged, “all I’m saying is I’ve heard a couple small pops that sound like really tiny explosions.”

Bill looked worriedly at the door and then got to his feet. “I better check on them,” his voice attempting to be casual, but an energy of urgency there.

Charlie turned to (Y/N) as he swept out the door.

“Are you ready for a Weasley Christmas?”

“So ready.”

The chaos began a few minutes later, as first Ginny, then Mrs. Weasley reached the bottom of the stairs. Bill hauled in the twins a few minutes later, right when Percy and Mr. Weasley were coming down the stairs. Something exploded in Fred’s hand and it went shooting off, crashing into the side of Percy’s head. He went down and even after Mr. Weasley helped him up and got him settled on one of the couches, his hair stood sticking up, and (Y/N) could have sworn, was a little bit burnt on one side.

Then there was only Ron, who Fred and George volunteered to go wake up, but after the Percy debacle, Mrs. Weasley was looking at them with a suspicious gaze. In the end, it was Bill who went to collect Ron from his likely deep slumber.

(Y/N) moved to the floor to make room for Bill when he came back, sitting in front of Charlie, just in front of the sparkling tree.

For the first time, she paid attention to the Weasley’s presents, an assortment of strangely shaped packaging, there was a set of string on one that she swore kept moving. On another, the bow hovered less than inch off the present itself, and on yet another present, there was actually green mistletoe growing on it.

(Y/N) tilted away from the gift with the moving string and looked up as Mr. Weasley shot a ball of cider out of his wand.

Charlie caught it in his mouth and they all hurrahed. She could hear Mrs. Weasley sighing from the kitchen, but when she came out a few minutes later, Ginny with the remains of cider that had crashed on her face, she was smiling as she cleaned it up with a wave of her wand.

By that time Bill had hauled Ron down the stairs and they joined the rest of the crowd of Weasleys on the floors and sofas around the room.

Ginny, it seemed, was the resident present deliverer and got up to take presents from the tree and bring them to the recipient.

The first one, from Fred and George, actually exploded in Mr. Weasley’s face, but he was grinning as he reached in and pulled out a spark plug.

“Thank you, boys,” he clapped George on the shoulder from where he could reach him on the floor in front of him. “Best gift this year.”

But Ginny had already handed off two more presents and while Ron was wrestling off the moving string parcel, Mrs. Weasley was listening to the floating bow explaining her present from Percy to her.

Another explosion wracked the house and (Y/N) snapped her head away from Ginny, who was passing Fred a present, to Percy, his face covered in ash.

He didn’t look overly concerned, for Percy, that is, as his mom waved her wand from across the room, wiping it clean so he could reach into the gift box and pull out a tomb, at least a thousand pages wide. He was smiling by the time he thanked Fred and George. Both of which were hanging the bit of growing mistletoe from the wrapped present over the hanging of the back door with the intention of catching their parents under later, (Y/N) guessed by their suspicious expressions.

But (Y/N) was drawn away from their conversation for a moment when Ginny held out a parcel to her.

“…for…me?” her hand was out, but she took the present hesitatingly. Ginny nodded urging her to take it, and she did, drawing her hand back with the present in her grip.

Ginny was already moving back to the tree as (Y/N) ripped the paper slowly aside, revealing a medium sized box, it’s top cut off so that she was already admiring its contents.

She pulled the first object out and it curled up on her hand.

A glowing glass phoenix, its wings folding beneath it as it closed its eyes as if ready to go to sleep right in her palm, but he flicked an eye open just once to glance at her with a glowing stare.

She set him reverently on the floor in front of her and then reached in with another hand, pulling out a sweater that unwrapped itself, unfolding to the floor as she held it up. It had a letter on it, her initial and she set it gently beside the phoenix as she reached in once more and grabbed the last thing out of the box.

A pair of knitted lamb wool socks.

She stretched out of her legs to put them on her bare feet and when she looked up, Mrs. Weasley was watching her.

One of the tears on (Y/N)’s face dropped to the ground.

“I didn’t get you anything,” she said, her voice not at its best.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head, “you came to spend Christmas with us, didn’t you?”

Two more of the tears pattered to the ground.

“Happy Christmas, (Y/N),” Mr. Weasley said from where he sat, his spark plug, a package of bertie bott’s every flavor beans, and a new pixie wool hat laid out on his lap.

“Happy Christmas,” she answered, as the rest of the Weasleys continued to dig into their array of assorted gifts.

It turned out ChristmascDay was very similar to Christmas Eve, while many of them spent some alone time for a few hours that day, some using their brand new presents, they all reconvened, even Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for a game of quidditch in the afternoon.

Charlie, Percy, Bill, Mr. Weasley, and Ron’s team won, to the surprise of everyone, considering Charlie was about the only decent quidditch player on that team, but Mr. Weasley, it seemed, wasn’t unskilled at maneuvering a broom and Ron was passably good even if Percy and Bill were terrible.

Some of them, due to some nasty falls, hadn’t gotten muddy, so when the game ended, Mrs. Weasley all shooed them inside to wash up. (Y/N) found herself mesmerized by the shower in the bathroom that Ginny, Percy, Bill, and Charlie all shared.

It had no head, instead, when one spoke a word to the wall, it just began raining, warm, fat, tropical raindrops that wiped her clean.

She pattered down the stairs that evening, feeling refreshed, her new pair of socks gracing her feet as it was too warm inside for the sweater. Bill and Mr. Weasley were playing a game of wizard’s chess as those who weren’t helping Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen waited for dinner, (Y/N)’s glass phoenix flitting around them.

When Mrs. Weasley called to them, (Y/N) was the first to come.

And heaven reached her eyes and nose.

Potatoes, that was the first thing she saw, directly followed by yams and all other kinds of side delights. A warm glass of butterbeer was graced next to every plate and to top it all off, a giant beef pot roast in the center of it all.

Her mouth was already watering.

It turned out that after the meal, the family spent their time in the family room together, playing games and listening to Celestina Warbeck on the enchanted radio in the corner. (Y/N) watched her phoenix lazily fly around the room. She almost fell asleep on that comfortable couch a few times and it seemed she wasn’t the only one crossing into the realm of sleep when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had to carefully carry up their two slumbering youngests to their beds.

(Y/N) got up from her couch then, crossing to the back door and pushed it open gently to let the cold air wake her up.

It reached her face almost immediately, a frosty air cooling her and causing her to open her eyes all the way. She could hear footsteps behind her and turned slightly to see Charlie in her peripheral vision.

They watched as the new snowfall fell gracefully to the ground, turning the world around the burrow white.

“Hey, you two,” Fred called from his place on the ground beside George, eating sweets on the floor. “Look up.”

(Y/N) glanced up, expecting a pack of snow to come sliding off from the house and land on her head, but it was just the bit of greenery and white berries, the mistletoe that had been growing on the present and that Fred and George had hung on the door hanging earlier this morning.

“Think there’s a bowtruckle living inside?” Charlie whispered and she laughed, finding that his returning laugh sent a spark of delight through her.

“May I have this kiss, (Y/N) (Y/LN),” he asked, his eyes warm, the eyes of a thunderbird.

“You may,” she whispered.

The Weasley siblings cheered them as their lips met, flecks of snow joining their kiss.

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x you #harry potter fanfic rec #harry potter fanfiction #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery charlie #harry potter fanart

234 notes · View notes

boxofbadaddiction · 3 years

Text

Thinking about...

How Ron started working for George at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

My theory, or headcanon (however you'd like to look at it), is that Molly proposed the idea...and George absolutely hated that suggestion.

But not because it's Ron.

He hated it because never in his life would George have imagined himself doing what he does without his Twin, and the thought of 'replacing him' causes bile to rise in his throat.

It would take many days of denial, small arguments and George finally reaching his breaking point to consider the idea that: perhaps Ron wouldn't be such a bad addition to the team...

I imagine it's sometime after the War and George has finally brought himself to reopen the store. Maybe it's only been back in business a couple weeks or for a few months now, but he's struggling a little bit. Because he doesn't want to admit he needs another worker around to take some of the load off his shoulders. And a little more than that: he just doesn't want to do it with anyone other than Fred.

Meanwhile, Ron is struggling to find work or get placement in Auror training. Because let's face it: even though he is Harry Potter's right hand man and helped win a War; his grades were...unideal.

I see Ron venting to Molly one day in the kitchen, perhaps after receiving another rejection letter, and she's running a loving hand in comforting circles over his shoulders while he's slumped over a hot chocolate. She's telling him to hang in there and that these things take time, offering that perhaps he should look into a part-time role with his Father within the Ministry. Or reminding him that Percy offered him an internship in his office.

But Ron hates both those ideas.

At this point George walks through the door looking exhausted. Greets the pair casually as he shrugs off his jacket and throws it over the back of a chair. He places a quick kiss to Molly's cheek and ruffles Ronniekin's hair as he moves to make himself a hot drink to wind down after a busy day.

"Hello Dear, busy day?" Molly smiles somewhat sadly, taking in her son's tired figure.

"Extremely." George huffs as he sits down across from the pair with slumped posture. "What's wrong with you, Ronnie?"

"Another rejection letter." Ron replies sadly as he annoyedly flicks the cause of his dejection to the centre of the table and drops himself against the backrest of his chair, taking up a similar slouched position to his older brother.

That's when Molly's struck by the idea. As she looks between her two boys and wishes she had a solution for them...the answer so simply presents itself. But she doesn't say anything.

Not yet.

She doesn't want to get Ron's hopes up if that's something he'd be interested in, and she knows he would be given how much he loves the Twins Shop. But more than that, she doesn't want to just spring the thought onto George because she knows how touchy the topic is going to be.

And it was.

A few days after this thought comes to her she gets her opportunity to run the idea past George. The two of them are alone doing a mindless task together, like washing the dishes. George scrubbing as Molly dries.

They've worked in comfortable silence thus far, but that's because Molly's too busy running a million different ways she can bring this up to George, through her mind, and which is the least likely way to upset him. George meanwhile is just enjoying the time with his Mother and the familiarity the task at hand brings. A strange sort of nostalgia washing over him, one which he'd never consider to be as therapeutic as it was.

But there's something nagging at the back of George's mind. And it has everything to do with the fact his Mother has been dutifully drying the same glass for 5 minutes now.

"Mum..." his voice snaps Molly out of her daze, drawing a surprised hum of acknowledgement from her throat. "I'd say that glass is dry by now." George joked with a crooked smile. "Oh, yes, I suppose you're right."

Molly's slightly flustered and places the cup down. But her expression remains rather vacant, mildly discontent. This finally prompts George to ask what's on her mind. Molly decides to simply go for it. There's no easy way to bring this up around George and she's really just stalling to forgo an uncomfortable conversation.

"George, I've been thinking..."

"Not good."

"I'm serious right now."

"So am I. You thinking never means anything good for me and-...for me."

"It's about Ron and finding him a suitable job, until he's accepted into training..."

And that's how it begins. She cushions the conversation considerably before asking the question she's been stewing over for days. She talks about how disheartened Ron has been in his misfortune, how desperately he wants to be apart of the work force. She talks about how tired George has been the last few months trying to run the shop by himself and how she just wants to be able to help the two of them get on their feet.

When she finally does ask the question: "What if, Ron came and worked for you?" It doesn't go down well.

She watches how swiftly his body language changes. From his casual 'I'm listening' demeanour to instantly putting his walls up. She watches as the words cause him to freeze. Every muscle in his body turning ridged and defensive.

His response is near immediate: 'No'. And he returns to the task at hand, however, he's no longer so comfortable within the grown silence.

He holds zero care in the way he handles the dishes as he cleans them, though it's notable how hard he's trying to not take any of his frustration out on them.

The conversation doesn't stay civil for very long.

Molly falls immediately into a sort of plead as she questions why George won't even take the time to consider the idea. She points out every reason why it is the best possible solution to both his and Rons current situations.

George shuts down not really answering any of Mollys questions as she rambles. The words seemingly falling from her mouth faster than she can process them; working herself into a right fluster.

George warns her quite a few times to drop the subject, but she continues, and he finally snaps. Tossing whatever dish is in his hands down into the water and yelling for her to stop talking. To drop the conversation because it's not going to happen before storming off elsewhere to cool down.

They spent a couple days without speaking after that.

More weeks pass and Weasleys Wizard Wheezes only gets busier. George feels like he's drowning in paperwork and just can't seem to get ahead. He goes to work an hour early and comes home hours late. He's tired and just about had enough. He can't even begin to imagine how he and Fred ever found so much joy in the work as they had.

"It's not work if you love to do it." Is what Fred always used to say when people would ask how he could possibly be so happy while on the clock.

George couldn't do this much longer. Not without his brother.

After one particularly difficult day George arrives home after all other occupants of the Burrow had gone to bed...or so he thought.

Walking in through the back door to all the houses lights out, save for a single lamp in the sitting room which Arthur and Molly leave on for him, he collapses into one of the Armchairs, too tired to attempt the walk up stairs right now.

His palms dig into the sockets of his eyes, harshly rubbing at each lid, to try rid the sandy feeling in them brought on from lack of sleep, then his fingers draw down on his cheeks; pulling at the skin in frustration.

He doesn't know it but Ron is, at this point, looking at him from the staircase landing. He'd meant to come down for a cup of water but instead found himself faced with his Brother.

Or rather, the shell of his brother.

Ron's never seen him look so...hollow and lifeless. It's like a horrible flashback to those months following the loss of Fred and it makes his stomach turn.

Ron comes over and sits on the sofa opposite George, a look of sympathy and concern on his face. George tries to joke and make light of his current situation but the humour and light doesn't come close to reaching his eyes and the smile he paints on looks painful.

After a little while of trying to get George to open up, and receiving quite the snap of attitude Ron concedes. He very well would have left for bed if the hanging silence hadn't made George feel enough guilt to attempt a change in conversation.

Soon though, after the initial awkwardness subsided, they get lost in talk.

It had started as a question of how Ron's job search were going but somehow ended with the pair laughing over silly childhood memories. Something George hadn't been able to do in a while.

Something changed between both brothers that night. They'd bonded in a new way and were much closer than they likely ever had been before. Ron had even managed to spark some product inspiration in George, and over the next couple days as he tries to perfect the concept they spend more time together.

From then on, George can feel a shift in the way he views Ron and in the possibility of him working at WWW. The idea of hiring him doesn't bring that bile feeling to his throat as it does with any other name or applicant who is suggested to him.

So, when George believes he's finally perfected the new product and takes it home to show Ron, that's the day he asks Oh, Dear Ronniekin's to work for him at the shop.

Which he of course agrees to.

#i. got. carried. away. AGAIN!#george weasley #harry potter #fred weasley #hp imagine #molly weasley #ron weasley #ron weasley hc #George weasley hc #thinking about...#mine #headcanon

40 notes · View notes

weasleyswizardpleases · 3 years

Text

Playing Nurse (4/4)

Summary: Fred Weasley keeps showing up in Hogwarts’ infirmary, where you apprentice when you’re not in class, but he quickly becomes more than just a patient to you.

Warnings/notes: Blood, dental injury, bruising, broken bones. Language, kissing, some nudity, coming out. Not super graphic but it takes place in the school infirmary so people’s injuries and illnesses are described. Trans masc!Fred x fem!reader. Last chapter! Thanks for loving this one as much as I do you guys :)

Tags: @lucymfer @accioweaslcy @manuosorioh

4. We Must Stop Meeting Like This

A week goes by before you see Fred again. You’ve pretty much given up on him liking you after your somewhat unexpected last encounter. But, like clockwork, he’s in the infirmary again over the weekend.

When you arrive for your shift, the infirmary is already bustling. Pomfrey is doing intake on a group of students while a stern but somewhat worried looking McGonagall stands by. You take in the scene: Ron Weasley is there with a busted lip, Malfoy’s a few feet away, holding his head and looking dazed, Crabbe and Goyle by his side in disheveled states. You’re unsurprised to see an incredibly peeved Katie Bell, her stockings ripped, glaring at the Slytherins. She’s limping heavily.

“What happened here? How can I help?”

“There was… a fight,” McGonagall says tiredly.

“Go ahead and examine Ron, should be a quick episkey, and then move on to Mr. Crabbe, I think it’ll be much the same but I haven’t had a proper look yet,” instructs Madam Pomfrey.

You take Ron to an exam table and give him a quick once over while asking him what happened. He explains that Fred and George weren’t having it and things escalated quickly.

“Turned into an all out brawl before anyone could get a word in edgewise. Percy was watching and ran to snitch, well, thank god he did, because they’re in really bad shape,” he says.

“Who? The Slytherins?” you say, using an episkey charm on his lip and a few stray scratches across his arms, probably from being thrown to the ground in the scuffle.

“Fred, especially, and Malfoy, and…” Ron continues, but you’re no longer listening. You look around and notice that the twins are unaccounted for. You’re finishing up on Ron when George and Filch come in carrying a stretcher with Fred on it. He seems barely conscious. You walk alongside them, asking all the questions you know to ask. This one is yours- Pomfrey is busy with Malfoy, who you suspect has a concussion, and will probably need to look after Katie’s ankle next.

George tells you that Malfoy hit Fred with a stunning spell, but after he fell, they kept kicking at him. You elect not to revive Fred fully yet, first casting a pain relief spell. You examine his clothed torso, feeling along his ribs, and notice that one of the bones feels out of place. You frown and continue lightly feeling along the area, and notice that he seems to be wearing a tight, thick undershirt.

“He’s got a broken rib. We’ll have to remove any garments that might constrict the area to set the bone properly. Could I ask you two to step out for a moment?” you ask, gesturing to the curtain out of the cubicle. Filch departs, but before George leaves he pauses.

“Don’t tell anyone, ok? It would break his heart,” he says seriously before stepping out.

You have little time to wonder what he means. You cut open Fred’s tee shirt and, as you suspected upon palpating his torso, find an undergarment laid tight across his chest. Like a sports bra, maybe, but why- in a flash, you understand the secret Fred was talking about the other day, and what George was saying to keep to yourself just now. It’s a binder. Of course.

You waste no time reflecting and slice his binder cleanly down the middle to remove pressure from the area. You set about doing a complex set of spells- first checking for internal bleeding, then setting the broken bone back in place, then casting a bandaging spell so he’s not tempted to move about before it’s fully set.

“Rennervate!” you say, flicking your wand in Fred’s direction. He comes to, looking around in confusion, his eyes finally landing on you.

“How do you feel?” you ask him.

“Utter shit,” he says. “What happened, exactly?”

“Stunning spell from Malfoy or one of his goons, George said. You wound up with a broken rib from getting kicked while you were out, but the scan didn’t show anything else too terrible. Just a few bruises.”

“Those cheating bastards. I’d love to spit in their faces right now,” he says, moaning as he tries to sit up.

“Just lay down,” you say, resting your hand gently on his shoulder. “It should be pretty much healed by tomorrow morning, but it’s going to be painful until then. If you want, I can ask Pomfrey to give you something to help you sleep while I’m out fetching you a new shirt,” you offer. You pulled the blanket up to cover his chest when you finished working on his ribs, but he’s still shirtless underneath. You watch as he realizes you must have seen his chest while you were patching him up. He grimaces uncomfortably.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“I’d like that shirt, please,” he says, pursing his lips. You dash off to one of the cabinets to fetch an extra set of clothes and an extra blanket, since you know he’ll be staying the night.

“Here,” you say, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” You excuse yourself to let him change, and touch bases with Madam Pomfrey. McGonagall has taken Ron, Crabbe, and Goyle, who are all fully healed, back to her office. Katie Bell is sitting on an exam table, still looking quite angry with her swollen leg propped up high. George is lurking worriedly near the door. You make your way over to him.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “Fred is going to be perfectly fine by tomorrow. Madam Pomfrey will have a look at him to make sure there’s nothing I missed, since it was a serious injury, but his rib is all patched up.” He sighs in relief.

“And don’t worry, I won’t say anything,” you add discreetly, smiling knowingly at him. He relaxes fully and nods in return. “Good luck with McGonagall. She did not look happy.”

“Thanks, Y/N. Take good care of him,” he says, nodding towards his brother’s bed before leaving to accept his punishment.

You return to Fred’s bedside to find him looking quite sheepish.

“Feeling okay?” you ask softly.

“Sure. Bit embarrassed. I wasn’t hoping you’d find out like this, you know.”

“Your big secret is that you’re trans? Freddie, who in the world would care about that?”

“I dunno, some people.”

“Uh, yeah, bigots,” you say, laughing. “I certainly don’t care. I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“Thanks to you. Wanna sit?” he asks sweetly. You can’t say no, so you agree to wait with him at least until Pomfrey comes in to look him over.

“So, did you ever talk to that girl?” you ask, trying to make small talk after all the excitement. He looks at you like you’re a nutcase.

“Y/N, are you thick?” he laughs hard, causing him to wince and hold his torso. He gasps in pain, but grins through it. “Honestly, who did you think I was interested in?” he asks, biting back laughter. You look at him, your cheeks hot. What is he getting at?

“How should I know? I hardly see you, outside of keeping you alive in here,” you say defensively.

“Wow, I thought for sure you knew. I was so embarrassed when you didn’t say anything, I’ve been avoiding you for weeks!”

“What? Why?” you ask, but it quickly dawns on you what you may’ve been missing. “Wait… what?!” you say, your hand flying to your mouth.

“Yep, you got it.”

“You like me?”

“Yes, you idiot!”

“Come here,” you say. You lean down and plant a chaste kiss on his cheek, but he pulls you in gently for a real kiss, a long one. You feel so much tension you didn’t even know you were holding in leave your body, and stand back up, laughing big, just as Madam Pomfrey parts the curtain.

“Well, everyone seems in good spirits in here,” she says. You both nod awkwardly.

“Y/N has been taking such good care of me I hardly knew I was hurt,” Fred says cheerfully. Pomfrey gives him a quick once over, agrees with your diagnoses and treatment, and leaves you two alone once again.

“You know, we have got to stop meeting like this,” Fred says, looking up at you. “Not that you don’t look lovely in your apron.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“How about a date?”

“I certainly wouldn’t object to a nice evening with a ruggedly handsome young man,” you say, giggling gleefully. He flashes a big smile, showing off his chipped tooth.

“Well, it’s a deal. You get me up and going again and I treat you to dinner,” he says.

“Deal! I've got to go, though,” you say, planting a sneaky kiss on him before you leave, “I am at work, after all.” You practically float out the door, proud of your work in more ways than one. Fred Weasley. Yours at last.

66 notes · View notes

lupinlongbottom · 4 years

Text

Practically a Weasley pt. 2

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: Home for the holidays! Finally, after the end of a bitter war, the Weasleys have some much needed family time to catch up on. The holidays are the perfect time to celebrate family, no? Charlie and (Y/N) seem to agree.

Word Count: 3.8k+

Warnings: None

A/N: A much anticipated part 2 to my Practically a Weasley fic! I love writing for Charlie. Dragon boy just doesn’t get much love, does he? Also Fred ain’t dead. My heart couldn’t handle that if it were true.

Part 1 ... Part 1.5 ... Part 3 ... Epilogue

The Burrow was fluttering with delight, the holidays had been finally sworn in with the arrival of the entire Weasley clan. How long had it been since most of the redheaded family sat under one roof, let alone one table? With everyone’s various lines of work and hectic schedules, it was a surprise and a holiday miracle even half of them had shown up.

Bill was enchanting the younger children with vast stories of his work as a curse-breaker (with a little exaggeration, of course). Molly and Arthur were bickering about him bringing yet another Muggle artifact home for the holidays. And Charlie? He sat quietly at the end of the table, humming along to Celestina Warbeck’s newest album, gingerly holding (Y/N)’s hand with delight.

Nothing had changed, not really, not ever.

“How do you know all of the words already? She just released these songs like, two days ago?” (Y/N) chuckled, taking a small sip of the hot beverage in front of her.

“I have a perfect memory,” Charlie mused, rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of her hand. “Or, did you forget?”

“I suppose I did, Mr. Weasley.” (Y/N) grinned, eyes flitting across the various freckles under his brown eyes.

“Such a shame, you really ought to know better, Mrs. Weasley.” A soft peck danced across their lips.

Ah. So something had changed.

“Ew.” Fred spat, eyeing his older brother down from across the table.

“Double ew,” George retorted. “Get a room.”

“They’re married, you gits,” said Ginny, bumping Fred in the arm. “Let them be.”

“She’s my best friend!” groaned Fred.

“Wow,” muttered George, a hand rising to his chest. “After all we’ve been through, Freddie? I’m gutted.”

(Y/N) chuckled quietly at the twins, now not-so-playfully fighting each other across the table. “They’ll never grow up, will they?” Whilst the twins began their fight to the death via dull forks, the newlywed couple pulled away from one another for the first time in hours.

“No, I reckon not,” Charlie hummed, rising from his seat. “If they’re going to continue on like this, I might as well pour myself a glass of firewhisky. Did you want one, love?”

Silently, (Y/N) shook her head, allowing Charlie to flee the scene for a few moments. The album had finally reached the end of the track, resulting in Molly starting it right back up. Ron and Ginny groaned gaudily, as this had been the fifth time she had done so this evening. The two shut right up after Bill had sent them both a quick and sharp glance.

“I must say,” Molly began. “I never imagined the lot of us sitting around one table again,” The war had reached its climatic end only a few months prior, wounds starting to finally heal. “I’m truly blessed to have almost my entire family together for the holidays—”

“—minus Perce, Fleur and Harry, of course!” George piped up.

“Right,” Molly cleared her throat. “As I said, almost the entire family.”

“Fleur sends her regards, truly. But with the condition her mother is in right now, she needed to be home,” Bill responded, again apologizing for his wife’s lack of attendance. “And Percy and Harry will be joining us in the coming days, no?”

“Yeah,” Ron nodded, leaving the absence of his brother and best friend at that. “Harry’s got some errands to run, or whatever. I reckon he’s out buying gifts even when we asked him not to.” Ron chuckled.

“Well, regardless of who isn’t here, we still have a large family. A growing family at that!” Arthur rejoiced, causing (Y/N)’s face to drop slightly. “It’s (Y/N)’s first holidays as an official Weasley!”

(Y/N) felt her face flush. A sigh of relief. “Oh Arthur, that’s hardly anything to celebrate…”

“Hogwash,” Charlie retorted, returning with his promised firewhisky, and a glass of water for (Y/N). “You can’t escape now, you’re sorta in it for life, yeah?”

“I feel like it’s already been a lifetime, love.” She chuckled. “Besides, just because we signed some stupid paper and wear these rings—”

“—wonderfully selected by your adoring husband.” Charlie mused, wriggling his left hand. The cool silver shone off his hand, a matching band with (Y/N)’s delicate ring.

“You know what I mean, Charles.” snickered (Y/N). “I mean, I’ve practically been a Weasley since second year!”

“It’s true,” George paused, setting his fork down. “I mean, we would’ve married her first but—”

“—we were too busy being repulsed by the thought!” Fred finished, poking his tongue out slightly.

(Y/N) returned the gesture.

“You lot will never grow up,” said Molly, shaking her head. “Whatever the case, I’m truly blessed to have another daughter.”

“Mum, just remember to think about the daughter you’ve always had, yeah?” Ginny laughed, causing the entire table to join in.

Hours passed, with it, a final read through of (Y/N)’s latest project. The sequel to The Distracted Dragon. While she had intended to finish the novel earlier, something larger than herself had erupted in their little world that needed attending to. The various fans of the first story were surely gutted, but to be completely fair to all involved, a war seemed like a pretty eminent reason to move the newest addition on the back burner.

“So you’re telling me… Bancroft gets a girlfriend?” Ron asks, looking to (Y/N) for an answer. She hesitantly gave a nod. “That’s the moral of the story? Get yourself a girlfriend and all your problems will be solved?”

“No,” Fred sniffed, moved by the book. “Ronnie, the moral is that sometimes we need help from another person to grow and accept our past!” With a loud honk into a tissue, he continued to weep.

“Nah, I still think that Harriet solved his problems.” Ron shrugged, popping a crisp into his mouth.

As Fred began to argue with Ron louder, chiming in about Hermione, Charlie gave (Y/N) a simple nod, aiming upwards towards the stairs. She got the hint quickly and excused herself.

“Tired of it yet?” asked Charlie, grabbing (Y/N)’s hand gingerly as they walked up the stairs towards his room. Bill had offered to stay in the twins room while (Y/N) was here, letting the newlyweds to have a space to themselves.

“No, not yet,” replied (Y/N). “Though,” She opened the door. “I’m rather pleased at how keenly Fred took to the book.”

“Ah,” He sat on the bed, waving his wand to shut the door once more. “He’s a bit of a romantic, no?”

“Fred? A romantic?” She laughed, pulling on her pajamas. A simple purple nightie, just touching the tops of her knees. “As if. He’s just… more in tune with the details I reckon.”

“Details… sure. Whatever you say, flower.” Charlie began to pull his socks off, eyeing his wife up and down. “You know… I bet the entire lot downstairs is going to be busy for a while.”

“Oh?” (Y/N) mused, flicking the lights off. “Busy, you say?”

Charlie nodded. “With Ron and Fred’s arguing, they sure drown out the sound, no?” He wriggled his eyebrows, climbing under the quilt next to his wife. A gentle hand caressed her thigh lightly.

“Charlie,” (Y/N) sighed, almost annoyed. “As lovely as the thought is,” He began peppering kisses to her neck, slowly down to her collarbone. “We shouldn’t.”

“Love,” more kisses. “It’s not like we’ve never fooled around up here before,” said Charlie, leaving a suckling mark below (Y/N)’s ear. “You love the risk.”

(Y/N) gently pushes Charlie away. “You’ve had too much firewhisky,” said (Y/N), pecking her husband once on the lips. “And I’m not feeling up for it.”

“Flower, I barely had any firewhisky,” he laughed. “Not nearly as much as you drink, well, normally anyhow,” a puzzled look adorned his freckled face. “Why didn’t you drink tonight? It’s Christmas Eve!”

“Are you saying I need to drink to have a good time?” (Y/N) accused, only half offended.

“Of course not! But you do find any and all reasons to have a nice drink at gatherings like these, it's odd, s’all,” He shrugged. “I mean, it’s a holiday! With the family. Our family. What better time to drink?”

“I didn’t feel like it.” (Y/N) mumbled, flopping down under the covers, turning away from her husband.

“I sense that you’re lying, love.” Charlie said, rubbing her arm gently. “You’re my wife…” mewled Charlie, hanging onto the last word longer than usual. “I’m keen to noticing these things.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Indeed,” he quipped. “You have a rather easy tell, too.” Charlie gave a quick side glance in (Y/N)’s direction, smirking. “You tend to push your hair behind your ears, bite your lip and flick your eyes ever so slightly.”

“I do that all the time.” mumbled (Y/N).

“Does that mean? No…” Charlie gasped. “Could you’ve been lying to me the whole time I’ve known you?”

“Charlie…” (Y/N) groaned.

“Okay, fine,” He laughed. “But you’ve been acting off these last couple of weeks. Not drinking, barely getting any sleep—”

“—which I’m trying to do right now, thank you!” (Y/N) quipped, pulling the covers higher.

“Your mood has been real shit lately too. One moment you’re all smiles, the next you want to send me to the dog house just for looking at you.” Charlie sighed. “And I know it’s not,” his voice lowered to a whisper. “‘that time of the month’ yet, because it was last week, right?”

“No, and stop talking about my period like you’re afraid to say it.”

“Huh… It’s normally around the third week of the month, no?” He mumbled. With a gentle shake of his head, he continued. “Flower, all I’m trying to say is that even when you went to the doctor, they didn’t diagnose you with anything, right? I’m just worried something is wrong with you, (Y/N)”

“Nothing is wrong with me, Charlie.”

“Nothing? You run to the loo to empty your lunch like it’s your job,” He laughed. “I’ve never seen you like this. It’s almost as if—”

He stopped.

“Charlie?” (Y/N) turned around to check on her husband. Charlie just sat, staring forward. “Honey?”

“(Y/N),” He continued to stare forward. “Are you…?”

“Darling,” She sat up, gingerly grabbing his hands. “Look at me.”

Charlie’s eyes were brimming with tears, begging to be let go.

“I wanted to tell you tomorrow, a Christmas present,” (Y/N)’s eyes were swimming with matching tears. “But I guess one present early couldn’t hurt, no?”

His eyes flicked back and forth from his wife’s, waiting for any sign of an answer. (Y/N) nodded her head slightly, fighting back the tears. Charlie wrapped his arms around his wife, hugging her tightly, afraid to let her go. “You’re kidding!” A flurry of kisses brimmed (Y/N)’s head, forming a crown upon her temple. “Love! This is a great—no—the best gift you could’ve given me”

“You’re excited?” asked (Y/N), giggling in her husband’s embrace.

“Of course I’m excited,” Charlie pulled away slightly, meeting his brown eyes with (Y/N)’s, darting between the two rapidly. “A baby. Our baby.”

In an instant, their lips met. Softly at first, crescendoing slowly into an intensity as bright as the stars above, burning hot at the sight. The moment was broken only by the parting for air, quickly returning to the fire before. Was it the thrill of their family below? Or the joy of the family growing between the two? Perhaps it was a bit of both.

“How long?” asked Charlie, rubbing (Y/N)’s upper arm gently. “I mean, how far along are you?”

“Remember that Quidditch match your friend Andre invited us to?” (Y/N) giggled.

“I don’t remember much of the match,” Charlie said, scratching his head. “Come to think of it, you pulled me into an empty stall and we—” His cheeks flushed, burning up to the tips of his ears. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) laughed, brushing Charlie’s hair out of his eyes. “Andre’s team won in the end, by the way.” Another laugh.

“Well, I suppose we both scored,” Charlie joined in the laughter. “But that was about two months ago, no?”

“Something like that. I found out last week at the doctor’s office,” said (Y/N). “It was the hardest thing to keep from you! I was so scared that—”

“—that I’d be upset?”

“Something of that sort, yeah,” (Y/N) mumbled. “Of course I was being a real idiot about the whole thing, I realized that the second you figured it out.”

“Love, I come from a family of nine,” Charlie held his breath. “Now, that’s not to say I want to rival my parents in the baby-making contest, but I’ve always wanted a little piece of that happiness. Especially with you.”

“Charlie if you keep saying shit like that I’m going to cry,” (Y/N) warned, choking back tears, a common theme in the past few minutes. “I can’t believe I was even remotely worried.”

“What was there to be worried about?” Charlie asked, stroking (Y/N)’s hair, fingers twisting the ends lightly.

“I’m not sure. We just got married a little over a year ago, after a bloody war had started no less—”

“—to be fair, we got married during the war.”

“I suppose we technically eloped before the war was over.” (Y/N) mumbled, tracing her hand up Charlie’s chest, resting gently.

“We also got married before Bill,” Charlie laughed. “Not an important detail, but one that I like to rub in his face.”

“Besides your points,” (Y/N) rolled her eyes. “We’re newlyweds! We’re young! I mean, we never even really had the whole ‘baby’ talk before. I was worried we weren’t ready, hardly after a war,” (Y/N) gulped. “I was worried you’d be scared.”

“Love, of course I’m scared. Babies are terrifying,” said Charlie. “With their little hands and tiny feet.” He feigned a grimace, clearly joking. “But you’re right. We are young, but that just means more years of being a family, no?”

“I guess…”

“Now, you’re also right about the ‘baby’ talk. We haven’t really talked about it,” Charlie looked down at (Y/N). “Let’s have it now.”

“I think it’s a little late for that.” (Y/N) giggled.

“Do you ever want to have kids?” Charlie asked, ignoring his wife’s growing laughter.

“Yes.”

“Do you ever want to have a child together?”

“Of course.”

“Then that’s all that matters, right?” Charlie said, his brown eyes meeting (Y/N)’s. “Who cares if it’s a little before we might have planned? I know that we’re going to love the shit out of our child.”

“I know you’re right,” (Y/N) mumbled. “But you don’t have any worries about all of this?”

“Only one,” said Charlie. “I mean, if it’s not a boy to take on the Weasley name, I may consider a divorce.” Charlie hummed, smirking lightly.

“Charlie!” (Y/N) slapped his chest rather firmly, eliciting a slight groan from the redhead. “If you keep joking like that, I may consider divorce first.”

“Flower, you know I could never divorce you,” Charlie laughed, placing a kiss to his wife’s temple. “Besides, with the amount of brothers I have, the Weasley name is rather safe I reckon,” Another kiss to her temple. “Come on, let's get some sleep.” It took only a few fleeting kisses, happy murmurs and mumblings before the couple finally retired for the night.

—

“Well, look at the lovebirds!” George sang from the kitchen table, setting his coffee mug down, eyeing up (Y/N) and Charlie descending from the stairs. “Unusually well rested. Obviously not taking advantage of their own room I see.”

“George,” said Molly, sternly shooting a glance at her son. “Happy Christmas you two.”

“Happy Christmas, mum,” said Charlie, placing a peck to his mother’s cheek. “Happy Christmas George.”

“Yeah, yeah. Christmas or whatever,” George sipped from his mug. “You lot slept in a bit, the rest of the family is outside. You know, completing a family tradition and whatnot. So disgraceful.”

“Ah, but the real disgrace, George, is the fact you also are missing out on the snow angels,” (Y/N) chirped, grabbing a plate of hot breakfast from Molly. “Besides, everyone’s coming in for breakfast soon anyway. No one can resist Molly’s cooking.”

“Oh (Y/N), you humor me,” Molly laughed, opening the window. “Breakfast!” She called out to the rest of her family. One by one, the clan filed into the kitchen, sitting in their respective seats.

“Mum, you outdid yourself again! This food looks delicious.” Bill said, piling a load of eggs onto his plate. He handed the skillet over in Ginny’s direction, eliciting a scowl to the yellow mush beneath her nose.

“Kiss-up.” Ginny mumbled, immediately passing the cooked eggs over to Ron.

The rest of the family began eating, enjoying a rare moment of silence in the Burrow. Only sounds of scraping forks and the occasional burp echoed through the walls. Fred and George were the first to finish their plate, diving into another round of home cooking immediately after. Charlie and (Y/N) sat together, gently hold each other’s hands while they ate, Charlie sitting at the end.

“While you’re all sitting down, I suppose now’s the best time for your gifts!” said Molly, cleaning up the table. She quickly exited the kitchen only to reappear with a rather large bag. “Careful not to get any muck on them, I don’t want to do any washing today.” With a flick of her wand, the colorful stack of wool dispersed evenly among the family, a jumper settling in everyone’s lap.

“Jumpers? Oh boy, what a surprise!” George laughed.

“Really shocked our socks off, mum!” Fred added, unfurling his pile of purple.

“Oh hush,” Molly smirked. “Just go put them on and humor your mother, would you? You seem to find every other opportunity to do so.”

The twins groaned and pulled the fabric over their heads, both of the violet jumpers were adorned with their store’s logo on the front. Bill’s had a niffler, Ron’s had a Chudley Cannons print, Ginny’s had two crossing brooms and Charlie’s had (not surprising anyone) a large white dragon.

“What about yours, love?” said Charlie, elbowing (Y/N) slightly, the light blue wool rubbing against her arm. She turned to face him, the green jumper was decorated with a book and quill, the cover oddly resembling her first book. “Wow! That looks amazing!” He exclaimed. “Mum, how do you keep making these year after year?”

“With patience and a whole lot of love.” Molly smiled.

“Her enchanted knitting needles help too,” Arthur added, brushing biscuit crumbs off his new maroon sweater, ignoring the icy glare from his wife. “Besides, it’s a tradition.”

“A tradition getting harder every year,” Molly sighed. “Thankfully none of you are getting married any time soon, no need to worry about adding any other jumpers to my long list!” She laughed.

“Besides for next year, of course.” said Charlie offhandedly. (Y/N) froze.

“Next year? What’s next year?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, I don’t reckon Fred or George are going to meet anyone by next Christmas.” said Ron.

“Hey!” The twins exclaimed.

“Well…” Charlie looked up, all eyes were on him. A quick glance was given to (Y/N), who shared an equally pale face as him. He shrugged, raising his eyebrows. “You never know when people can meet each other, no? I mean, (Y/N) and I met in a coffee shop of all places!”

“Charlie…” (Y/N) began.

“Hell, we even eloped! Do you know how easy it is to do that?” Charlie continued, nervously bumbling longer sentences. “We got married in like, an hour once we set our sights on it!” He chuckled loudly, trying to drown the attention away from his sweat.

(Y/N) stood up, placing a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Before Charlie continues to blabber like a right idiot,” she said, shutting her husband up successfully. He sighed loudly. “I’m pregnant.” The entire table sat in stunned silence.

“That’s amazing!” Fred shouted, breaking the silence, jumping from his seat. “My best friend is having a baby!” He wrapped (Y/N) in a large hug, gripping her tightly.

“Again, am I chopped liver?” George laughed, running over to join the hug. “A baby! Promise that you’ll name him George! Or Fred. Not terribly picky on that.”

“Boys! You shouldn’t hug (Y/N) that hard,” said Arthur. The twins loosened their grip slightly. “Congratulations you two,” He glanced between the happy couple. “Children are a blessing.”

“Is that why you had seven of them?” Ron asked, getting slapped on the shoulder by his mother.

“Oh (Y/N),” Molly cooed, fighting back her tears. "My first grandchild! We couldn’t be more thrilled for you!” She ran over to Charlie, embracing him in the warmest bearhug she could’ve mustered. “I can’t wait to start knitting their jumper! It’ll be so tiny I won’t mind the extra on the list.”

“How long have you been keeping that secret, Charlie?” Bill asked, smiling at his brother, amused at the kisses their mother was placing on Charlie’s cheek.

“He’s barely known a day,” (Y/N) frowned in Charlie’s direction. He smiled sheepishly. “I’ve only known for a week. It’s still early, but we’re excited.”

“I hope it’s a girl,” Ginny added. “That way we’d finally be on our way to have a boys versus girls Weasley quidditch match!”

“With my quidditch skills and (Y/N)'s creative mind? I’m sure they’d be an amazing quidditch player!” Charlie bubbled in delight. “Though, how young would be too young to get them on a broom?”

“Charlie! We’re not putting our baby on a broom!” (Y/N) scolded. “Besides, they could easily get my quidditch skills.”

“But you don’t have any quidditch skills?” Fred said, cocking his head.

“You can hardly keep yourself up on a broom!” George added.

“Exactly,” (Y/N) hummed, sitting down, a hand resting on her barely existing bump. “I say we stop hypothesizing and projecting onto the baby. Whatever they choose to be and do will be great…” (Y/N) sighed. “Because Charlie and I are the best, so our baby is going to be the best baby ever.”

“Nailed it, darling.” said Charlie, high-fiving his wife.

“You two really deserve each other.” Ron groaned.

“We do,” Charlie hummed, beaming down to his wife. “We really do.”

With the big news out of the way, the Weasley’s enjoyed the rest of their holiday morning, welcoming Percy and Harry home later in the afternoon. Once the two were caught up on gifts and laughter, the family had finally found peace in their holiday. No more big secrets, no more stressing about keeping said secrets. Just a relaxing and calming holiday before the whirlwind of parenthood whisked Charlie and (Y/N) up into a tizzy. But they were ready.

They’re Weasleys, after all.

General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai , @missihart23 , @biatheintrovert , @luna-xxxxx , @chocolaterumble, @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy

Charlie Weasley Tag List: @sungoddessra , @crescent-ia , @phantom-pheonix , @dccomicnerd-world , @marveltrash99 , @graymountaingal, @storiesbycaroline, @mytinybaguette , @garbdump

want to be added to a tag list? hmu in the replies or ask box with what characters you’d like to be tagged with!

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #hphm #harry potter #weasley x reader #harry potter x reader #hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #charlie weasley x you #dragon boi

864 notes · View notes

percyinpanties · 3 years

Note

hey I'm the pipeyna anon and that's ok!!! can u do pipeyna with piper pining after hot jock Reyna which hopefully ends happy (smutty)

just a quick warm-up, i say, i won’t spend too much time on this. i really had to resist just going on and on and on with this. i miss writing this ship, damn.

anyway - this fits really well with an enemy to lovers prompt i have for jercy, so thats what im hinting at too here.

Read on Ao3

for context : i always write college aus from a UK uni perspective bc that’s all i know and i don’t care to adapt to how it might or might not work in the u.s. (sorry)

rating: teen+ (no smut in this one, but let me tell you, this TEMPTED me)

words: 2.2k

___

“An actual goddess” Piper says wistfully from where she’s leaning against the wall next to Percy, taking back the cigarette she’d just bummed of him. Her eyes are glued on the field, and more precisely on Reyna, smile on her face and water bottle in her hand as she jogs over to Jason standing at the side of the field. They greet each other with a hug, even as Reyna wrinkles her face, seemingly complaining about her own sweatiness.

It’s coincidence that the end of Reyna’s soccer practice collides conveniently with Piper’s and Percy’s late seminar on Mondays. It isn’t coincidence that Percy and her have taken to sharing a cigarette on the side of the building that looks out toward the field during their break, however.

Percy makes a non-committal noise and his eyes follow Piper’s gaze while she takes a drag of the cigarette and wrinkles her nose. She needs to quit smoking for good, she thinks, and flicks the ash to the ground. There was a brief moment in first year when Piper thought that Percy might be interested in Reyna, or she in him, but luckily, nothing ever came of that.

“You think they’re dating?” Percy asks, arms crossed over his chest now, making no move to take the cigarette back again. He’s not even pretending not to be staring, his eyes intense where they flit between Reyna and Jason. Piper on the other hand has the common decency to at least cast her eyes away every now and again before she’s caught looking for a little too long.

At the edge of the field, Reyna and Jason are standing close together now, chatting about god knows what, smiling and laughing. They’re certainly comfortable with each other, but Piper can’t say that’s much of an indication given how she’s around Percy.

“I hope not.” Piper mutters and Percy laughs at that, even though she knows he agrees. Percy wouldn’t admit it in a million years, but Piper would bet real money that he has a thing for Jason, too, as much as he claims to hate the guy. She’d have to be deaf and blind not to notice the tension between them.

It would make sense, though, in a way. Jason is captain of the men’s rugby team, Reyna of the women’s soccer team. Some of their practices collide and the two clubs do most of their weekly socials together, and Piper’s seen the two of them hanging out aside from that plenty as well. Reyna and her haven’t talked much about Jason, maybe because Piper hasn’t actually exchanged more than five words with him and never had much of an urge to change that, but she knows that Reyna and Jason have known each other before university.

Around Jason, Reyna seems to let her guard down, something Piper has only managed to achieve a handful of times since they met during their first year.

Jason laughs at something Reyna says, eyes bright and head thrown back and Piper can’t deny that he’s handsome, at the very least. He’s fairly decent, too, as far as guys go, and really, Piper knows she shouldn’t be hoping that there is nothing between Reyna and him if that is what would make Reyna happy.

“Invite her to the party.” Percy suggests then, drawing Piper’s attention back from the tangent her brain was so insistent to start on. When Piper turns her face to look at him, he’s already looking back at her, one eyebrow arched. “I was going to, anyway, but it’s different coming from you yourself.”

He’s not teasing her, it’s an honest suggestion, and technically not even a bad one. It’s Percy’s birthday this weekend, and if nothing else, it would be a good excuse to hang out again. Percy knows a ton of people, but he usually doesn’t invite too many to his party, so with any luck, it won’t be too crowded to actually spend some time with Reyna.

More than that, though, it’s another opportunity for Piper to finally get a move on. Percy, Piper knows, thinks that Piper’s pining had reached a point where it’s almost comical halfway through last year, but even so, Piper has yet to manage to actually act on her feelings.

A party is casual enough that she can always play it off as nothing serious when it ends up blowing up in her face. Piper might finally get over herself and just ask Reyna out already – although she’s tried that a few times before only to find herself tongue tied and staring at Reyna like she hung the moon in the sky. She’s been head over heels for Reyna since maybe three weeks after they met in first year, and now that they’re starting their third and final year, Piper needs to get a move on or it’ll simply be too late. Granted, she’s scared shitless at the prospect of being turned down, but at this point, even that would be better than pining forever and never finding out if she’d even stand a chance.

“Yeah… maybe.” Piper says finally, and manages a small smile towards Percy who bumps his shoulder against hers playfully. They should be heading back inside, so Piper sneaks a last glance toward Reyna and this time, finds her looking back.

They don’t share any classes this year, and Piper doesn’t usually run into Reyna on campus, so on Wednesday morning, she ends up texting Reyna on her way to class. She fumbles with her phone, almost tripping over her own two feet trying to type the words out as fast as possible, and ends up having to sidestep off the path to actually send the texts.

Hey you.

we’re having a party on Saturday, it’s Percy’s birthday.

Piper wants to add more, but instead, she bites her lip and stuffs her phone back into the pocket of her jeans. It’s almost an open invitation like this already anyway, and Piper wants to gauge Reyna’s first reaction before deciding exactly how she’s going about asking. Technically, it would be so easy to just as Reyna to go with her, specifically, to the party, but the intention might be lost over text and anyway, wouldn’t it be simpler to just invite her generally?

Piper frets throughout the entirety of her first lecture, and most of the second one, for nothing. Reyna doesn’t answer, even though the messenger app shows Piper that she’s read both texts already, and Piper tries not to be disappointed about it. She doesn’t know what Reyna’s schedule is like today, the girl might just be busy and planned on replying later. It makes sense, much more than Piper’s second thought that Reyna is not answering because Piper is annoying and Reyna doesn’t actually want to spend any time with her. She knows that thought is stupid, knowing that however does nothing to ease the anxious knot in Piper’s stomach.

Piper finds herself checking her phone more often than not. It would be funny if it wasn’t so ridiculous, and if the lecturer wasn’t so clearly catching on that Piper isn’t paying as much attention to the class as she is to her phone. She texts Percy as well, but she knows he’s in that seminar he shares with Jason, so chances are that she won’t be getting a reply on that end anytime soon either. In the end, she has to force herself to put her phone away and actually focus on the lecture up front, even though by that point, she is already lost as to what they’re even talking about in the first place. It’s no good, and Piper can’t deny being relieved when the lecturer eventually dismisses the class.

She doesn’t allow herself to check her messages until she’s across campus in the coffee shop, queuing for some much needed caffeine and fishing out her phone so she doesn’t have to make small talk with anyone while she waits in line. Reyna still hasn’t replied, but at least Percy has messaged her after his seminar.

I’m gonna strangle him, Piper. You’ll have to bust me out of prison because they are going to arrest me for goddamn murder.

All she’d asked was if his classes were as boring as hers today, and while she had expected Percy to go off about Jason in reply, this isn’t exactly what she’d thought to be reading today. She smiles at her phone, types out a quick reply and moves up in the queue.

That bad? What’s he done now?

The way Percy talks about Jason makes Piper think of a Cartoon Network villain, always plotting, provoking and scheming. The few times she’s spoken to Jason, the guy wasn’t half bad, and if Piper is honest, she doesn’t quite get the vendetta these two have with each other. She suspects though that it has something to do with how ‘infuriatingly attractive, like fucking superman or something’ Percy described Jason after their first class together.

It’s like he thinks I’m stupid or something. Got a dumb fucking project to do together and he honestly told me that he ‘needs to pass this class so iif I’m not planning to put in the work, we might as well ask for new partners right away’

Like, excuse me, bitch? My grades are better than yours, for one thing

And for another, it’s not like good-old Dodds is gonna let us switch anyway

Piper huffs audibly while she reads the texts. It’s clear Percy’s actually upset by this, and she figures it will only get worse if they actually have to do the work together in the coming weeks. Before she can shoot Percy a reply though, she’s next in line.

Piper orders her coffee, steps aside to wait once she’s paid, and rereads Percy’s texts before she types her reply to Percy.

Sounds like a dick move.

Piper’s almost inclined to defend Jason for a moment, since Percy mostly doesn’t pay much attention in class, especially in Mrs. Dodds seminars – so how is Jason meant to know how much effort Percy puts in outside of it? On the other hand, though, Piper knows how Percy is, and how personally he’s clearly taken Jason’s comment already, so trying to convince him otherwise would simply be fruitless.

Once Piper’s coffee is done, she heads back outside, finding an empty bench to enjoy the break before her next class. If nothing else, at least Percy’s ranting is distracting her from Reyna, and the party, and asking the other girl out – and in between the rapid texts Percy and her are sending back and forth Piper almost forgets about it entirely. Until she has to head back to her last class, that is, and sees that Reyna has, so far, still left her on read.

Piper hesitates for a moment, clicking on the text field without typing anything just yet. Is she going to come off as desperate if she texts again, or should she just clarify now before it gets too late and Reyna already makes different plans for the weekend?

Piper types out a few words, deletes them again and pockets her phone only to get it back out a few seconds later to try again. She shouldn’t be walking and texting, especially given that she should be going faster to actually make it to her lecture in time, but Piper knows that if she doesn’t send this text now, she’ll spend another lecture agonising over what to say.

So yeah, I wanted to invite you too ofc :)

Piper cringes at her wording, but figuring it won’t get much better, she sends the text anyway and finally tucks her phone back into her pocket to actually hurry to class.

By the time Reyna replies, it’s late and Piper is sitting on the beat-up couch in her shared flat’s living room, watching something trashy on TV without really paying much attention at all. Percy is clanking around in the kitchen, making something that smells good enough to remind Piper that she should probably be getting herself some food, too. She’s about to get up and rummage through her fridge compartment in search of something edible when her lock screen lights up with a message from Reyna, and that derails any thoughts of food immediately. Piper isn’t subtle in the way she practically lunges for her phone, but luckily, Percy can’t see and judge her from his position in the kitchen.

Sorry, long day, reads the first text, following a few seconds later by another one.

Promised Jason to hang out but I’d love to :(

Piper bites her lip, knowing before typing out the words that Percy won’t like what she’s doing in the slightest.

You could bring him? Percy won’t mind.

Except that Percy most certainly will mind, Piper thinks, and grimaces. If she hadn’t come off as desperate before, she most certainly does now – texting back within less than a minute after having been left on read all day, only to offer that Reyna can bring her friend (boyfriend?) along as well if that means she’ll be there.

There’ll be other opportunities, Piper tells herself, and scrubs a hand over her face. She needs to chill, and maybe she needs to grab a cigarette and step outside and calm down before she embarrasses herself even further.

Piper stares at the screen. How on earth is she meant to interpret this? At this rate, she won’t make it until Saturday, dying of one crisis or another before then.

if you’re sure? I’ll ask him.

haven’t seen you in a while, would be nice to hang out again ;)

I’m sure.

#will i continue this? maybe #i do kinda wanna write the party part and have it ending ~spicy~#pipeyna #piper mclean #reyna ramirez avila arellano #my stuff #my fic #prompts #teen+#pjo #Anonymous #jercy #in the bg

36 notes · View notes

annabethy · 4 years

Note

Hey sorry if this is annoying, but i was thinking if you could do a part 2 of the fic you wrote about annabeth being a famous actor and percy works in a Store and they meet and percy is fangirling a lot and is really sweet, pretty please 💋💋 love your writing by the way🌹🌹

Celebrity AU! Part 2 to this story.

Percy scoffed at his girlfriend, rolling his eyes fondly as she struggled to force his sweater over her head.

“I don’t think a jacket is going to stop them from seeing you,” he said lightly. “You’re pretty recognizable, if you didn’t already know.”

“Shut up.”

Percy watched her get stuck in her frantic movements, smiling kindly at the few strangers that walked by them and eyed them with cautious. “You’re making people stare at you.”

“That’s because I’m not wearing your jacket. If I was wearing your jacket, they wouldn’t be looking,” Annabeth said distractedly, finally popping her head through the hood.

Percy hardly agrees with that statement because the more she struggled, the more people looked their way. He loves Annabeth very much, but he does think he should be concerned about the fact that she doesn’t know how to put on a jacket.

When she looked at him, her hair flying all over the place, her smile so bright as she stared at nothing but him, and he felt like he was falling in love with her all over again.

“You look ridiculous,” he teased, stepping forward and taking her in his arms. His fingers went to smooth through the flyaways in her hair.

“I never look ridiculous.”

Percy playfully made a sound of disagreement, his hand tracing down to her cheek and letting his thumb gently caress her skin. “Because a movie star never looks like a hot mess, right?”

“Ha! You think I’m hot!”

Percy poked her cheek, but he was smiling at her antics. It wasn’t like he could deny her words because he really did find her hot. It was painfully obvious, especially the first day they met, and he actually told her he was starstruck. His feelings for her were so clear that he might as well have I think Annabeth Chase is hotwritten across his forehead.

Huh. He should consider getting that tattooed.

“Should we go?” Percy asked, dropping his hands back by his side. There were already people starting to glance their way, clearly recognizing Annabeth’s face, and he didn’t have the heart to tell her that her not-so-foolproof plan wasn’t working.

Annabeth laced their hands together, and they started to walk down the streets of New York. Annabeth was somewhat curled into his side as though trying to hide from the world. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how exhausting it must be to constantly be in the eye of the public, to have your privacy invaded and have to let it happen with a smile on your face, so he lets her press into his side. His arm slid around her waist to hold her close, and from here he could smell her clean hair. It reminds him of home.

They walked aimlessly around the city, and she managed to make it almost an hour without anyone walking up to her. Percy noticed people looking, but he took it upon himself to give them a death stare. Some people took steps, presumably to approach her and ask for a picture, but the second they met Percy’s eyes, they immediately backed up.

“Do you think they’re scared of me?” Percy whispered into her ear.

“Who?”

“Your fans,” Percy said. “Your personal stalkers.”

“With those looks you’ve been giving them, I’m sure they’re terrified.”

So apparently, he wasn’t being as subtle has he had thought.

“I doubt they even know who I am,” Percy disagreed.

“Oh, they know. You’re all over my Instagram. You should read the comments. They’re all thirsting over our picture at the beach. They like your abs.”

“I did read the comments, and then I saw someone say they like your ass, so no, I don’t like to read the comments anymore. I learned my lesson.” Percy squeezed her lightly. “I nearly tracked that guy down just to yell at them and cry.”

Annabeth snorted. “Cry?”

“I’m an emotional man, okay? It’s hard dating a celebrity. I’m worried you’ll leave me for someone who doesn’t automatically assume you’re a thief.”

“If they don’t automatically assume you’re a thief, is it even real love? Besides, I’m not the only thief here.”

Percy gasped in mock offense. “Hey!”

“You stole my heart!” she consoled, giggling. As she smiled, she brought her hand to her face, and his jacket was so big on her that the sleeves flopped down as she did it. For some reason, it made him feel flushed. She was just too cute.

“You’re disgusting,” Percy said, but he planted a lingering kiss on her cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you more, you doofus,” Annabeth said.

They eventually decided to make their way to go eat. They didn’t do things like that very often because of Annabeth — Percy didn’t mind because he loved her and if she was happy, he was happy — but when they did get to go out together, it was really special. He had to enjoy those times when they rose.

Percy was actually surprised that they were still able to be out by this point. No one had walked up to her yet, and he thinks that this might be the longest amount of time they’ve just been in the middle of the city without any fans of hers in over a year. Maybe if they were in a more remote area, it would be more understandable, but New York City?

It hardly a surprise when a girl walks up to the couple, nervously locking eyes and then looking away.

“Excuse me?” she asked. She fidgeted with her fingers, twisting and pulling at them. “You’re Annabeth Chase?”

Annabeth smiled cordially. To anyone, it would seem friendly, but Percy could tell she would rather not have a conversation with anyone. He knew she wouldn’t say anything, of course, but he could see it in her eyes.

The girl’s eyes flicked towards Percy, and she looks alarmingly nervous. When the girl angled herself slightly towards Percy, he furrowed his brows.

“Do you think I could have a picture with you?”

Percy stayed silent, waiting for Annabeth to answer. When she didn’t say anything, he looked at her in confusion, only to find her staring back at him, and it’s then that he realizes the girl was talking to him.

“Oh, uh — a picture with me?” he asked slowly.

“If that’s alright.”

Percy met Annabeth’s eyes, and she looked just as bewildered. He has never been the one people go up to meet, and he doesn’t know why anyone would want to. He’s just a random human being that was dating a celebrity. He wasn’t the celebrity.

“Why?” Percy asked. Annabeth elbowed him sharply at his bluntness. “I mean — I’m not in anything, so…”

“Everyone knows who you are,” she explained, “but if you’re uncomfortable, I can just go.”

Percy blinked. His brain felt like it was malfunctioning.

“You know what? Don’t even worry about it. I’ll just go…”

Percy was perfectly content letting the girl walk away because he didn’t want to take a picture. He was just really caught off guard and messy, and the whole situation was weird, but Annabeth was already speaking out to call her back.

“He’d love to take a picture!” Annabeth exclaimed. “I can take it for you.” She shot him a look that dared him to argue, so he bit his tongue as the girl smiled and took her place next to him. Percy jumped as she slid her arm around his back, and he’s sure his grin was awkward as Annabeth snapped the picture.

A second later, Annabeth was handing the phone back to the girl, who smiled widely at Percy one last time, muttering a quick thanks, before bouncing off and leaving Percy and Annabeth severely confused.

Annabeth slowly turned her head to gaze at him. Her face was neutral at first, but then Percy cracked a grin and she started laughing along with him.

“Did that just happen?” Percy asked, still feeling like he was short-circuiting.

“I think so,” she said, snickering.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“She asked for a picture with me.”

Annabeth snorted. “I know. It’s not like I was the one acting in a ton of movies, or anything.”

“I feel insulted for you,” Percy said. “I worked at Walgreens when I met you. What have I done that was special?”

Annabeth moved to stand in front of him, and his arms automatically went to rest on her waist. “You managed to snag a star, for one.”

“I still don’t know how I tricked you into falling in love with me.”

“Ah, yes. That’s what it was. A trick.”

“Mh-hm.” Percy sighed, looking in the direction the girl disappeared off to. “That was weird.”

“It was a nice change of events. I don’t like how she was all over my boyfriend, though.”

Percy threw his head back, laughing. “You’re just going to have to get used to it because they clearly think I’m attractive.”

“You’re really not that attractive. I’m only dating you out of pity.”

“Oh? Is that why Piper told me you were going on and on about how pretty our kids would be?”

“I’m going to murder her.”

Percy kissed her forehead. “I thought it was cute.”

“It’s mortifying is what it is.”

He cracked a grin. “Would you say that you’re… starstruck by me?”

“Percy.”

“Yes, baby?”

“I hate you.”

“You love me,” he said, kissing her nose. “And I love you.”

“How’d you know?”

“Because I know you,” Percy said.

“How do you feel now that you’re a celebrity?”

“I’m not quite up to your level yet, but I’m getting there.”

Annabeth brushed her hand through his hair. “I’ll be your biggest fan.”

“You already are.”

Annabeth locked eyes with him again, but this time he could see the passion in her eyes. He knows his eyes are the same way. Time seems to slow after their bickering, and right now all he can think about is how badly he wants to kiss her.

Annabeth seems to read his mind.

“Kiss me,” she said quietly.

And so he does.

He stops in the middle of New York City to hold her in his arms, and not caring who’s watching, he kisses her like she’s the only thing that matters, because she is.

#percy jackson #percabeth #annabeth chase #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #my writing #anon #asks #celebrity au

109 notes · View notes

hillnerd · 4 years

Note

How about my Prodigal Prat Percy and My shy neurodivergent Hugo who is his favourite Nephew - if you like. (No obligation what so ever.)

It was take your kids to work day at the Ministry. Percy knew his own job was rather boring for his twin daughters. Lucy looked on with polite interest, while Molly didn't bother looking interested until she found out more about the Floo network and how there were maintenance workers who would go into it. "It's the most dangerous job at the Ministry beside those at the MLE office." Molly's eyes lit up. "What happens in there that's so dangerous?" "Well you have to go in there with specially charmed gear so you can breath and travel through it without getting your lungs messed up from prolonged exposure to all that soot and flame. Also the workers are fighting a tornado of flames and Floo magic when doing the charms in there-- so it's rather hazardous. Easy for someone to lose their footing and get tossed around for hours on end if you don't take all the proper precautions." "Oh! Ohh! I want to do that!" Percy let out a sigh. Of course she did. She said that about every dangerous job she'd ever heard of. Dragon taming, Auror, experimental potioneer, curse breaker... The list went on and on. "I'm sure you'd be very good at it. What about you, Lucy?" "I'd rather keep my feet on this side of the Floo," she quickly answered. “What kind of spells keep a person in place through that, though?” His twins weren't identical in looks or personality, unlike his twin brothers. He wondered if they'd be sorted into the same Hogwarts house or not. Molly was as Gryffindor a child as he'd ever known, but Lucy was harder for him to pin down. He looked at his pocket watch. Nearly half past three. "Time to meet your mother."

"Ohh Daddy can't we stay longer? I want to go do maintenance in the Floo!" "Only trained professionals get to do that, Molly," he said, leading them down the hall to Floo them to their mother. "I wanted to see the mail sorting room again," Lucy added, looking with longing down the hall. "There'll be plenty of other times you can see that," he said, but his chest puffed up a bit. Perhaps he'd managed to make their time at the office less than boring, after all. "As I recall, you both wanted to visit the Magical Child Welfare Office today." "The Adoption Carnival!" Lucy smiled, hands grasping together beneath her chin. She excitedly twirled her skirt back and forth like a bell. "I'd forgotten!" Molly gave a whoop, punching the air. "I LOVE the carnivals!" "Once you're done with your volunteering, you get to have fun with the other kids, but not until then." Both his daughters rolled their eyes. "We know, papa!" "You tell us that every time!" "I don't want you to forget the reason for the carnival," he forewarned, wagging a finger their way. "It's so the kids can find families, we know!" Molly moaned. "We're not dumb." "It's not a question of your intelligence. It's a matter of slowing down to recognize how lucky we are to have families, and to prioritize those children's needs." "Will there be a petting zoo?" He gave a sigh. Maybe they were a little young for him to be giving this speech. "I believe your mother might have mentioned baby nifflers." He could barely contain his smile as the girls squealed and laughed. When they arrived at the MCW Office it was controlled chaos, as it ever was.

Kids were running about in much nicer clothes than usual, though many weren't quite finished dressing yet. The twins were happy to join the ruckus, both yelling 'Uncle Ron, Uncle Ron!' and running across the den to join their Uncle in braiding some little girl's hair. Various Weasleys were part of the fray. He spotted George out in the garden setting up carnival games, Ginny polishing brooms, his Mum magically changing spots of grass to bright colors for a cake walk, and various other brothers and spouses were walking between booths, arms laden with supplies. Percy looked about for his wife. He soon found Audrey chasing down a four year old who was wearing socks on both his hands and running away with no trousers. Percy quickly headed the boy off, picked him up and presented him to Audrey. "Thank goodness for you," Audrey panted, blowing a curl out of her face. "This conejito doesn't like putting on trousers, even though he knows guests are coming." "Is that so?" Percy asked the boy with his sternest of faces, as his wife pulled the polka dotted socks from the small boy's hands. "It is quite important you wear proper attire when meeting new people." "Trousers are hot!" the boy exclaimed, head dramatically thrown back. "Hmm... A very good point," he nodded, looking to Audrey. "Perhaps we can turn these into shorts instead?" "You do it? I'm too tired to remember how to tailor things," she quietly griped, pressing her head against his arm. He tried his best not to smile when she was put out like this, but always found her pouting looks rather adorable. "Long day?" "Long month!" He quickly spelled the trousers into shorts and they finally got the wriggling boy. They went about the room tying shoes, tucking shirts. It took a whole lot of child wrangling from Audrey, her staff, and all the Weasleys-- but they finally were ready for the prospective foster families (and perhaps even future adopters) to arrive, and for the children to go about the carnival having an intense amount of fun. Later on Harry arrived with his own children, which caused a lot of turning heads, not only because it was ‘THE Potter,’ but because James had let out a cry of glee and immediately knocked over a table full of food. Percy’s twins joined with their cousins, and Percy was happy to let Harry look after them for a bit. With so many staff on hand this year Audrey didn't have to be as hands on for the paperwork side of things for once, giving them a chance to slip away. They went back into the center to their favorite spot, a little sunroom with an old comfortable couch.

"This looks to be your best carnival yet. Wonderful turnout."

"I'll feel better next week when I know if it paid off," she said with a sigh, putting her head on his shoulder. "But yes, it definitely looks like fun. Nothing but toothy grins everywhere I looked."

Percy nodded and leaned his head on top of hers. Their peace was broken by the sound of fireworks going off, making them both jump. "Those weren't supposed to go off for an hour! I was going to have ear plugs for the children and everything!" "Can we have a strict family foster George for a bit?" asked Percy, shaking his head. "Sadly he's past the age limit for fostering by fifteen years." She closed her eyes and rubbed her brows. Another great bang came, but this one sounded more like a slammed door followed by the pattering of tiny feet. Audrey made a move to get up but Percy waved her down. "I'll get this one." It didn't take much looking to find a head of bright ginger curls poking out from under a craft laden table. "Hugo?" Percy asked. His knees creaked as he squatted down, something they'd been more and more prone to doing lately. His tiny nephew had his back to the wall and hands over his ears as he rocked a bit. His eyes were tightly scrunched closed. Percy did a quick Muffliato, and closed the curtains with a flick of his wand.

Despite saying he'd take care of it, Audrey had some in to fix the problem. He silently mimed 'tell them I have Hugo,' which she immediately understood.

Knowing there was little point in talking to Hugo at this time, he gathered a few books and a cup of water. He gently placed them in front of his nephew as he waited for the boy to open his eyes. They had an old copy of 'Beedle the Bard' he'd given the house a decade ago he silently read. A good five minutes passed before his nephew started to move. "Water?" Hugo nodded before drinking the cup and giving a small 'ahhh' as he finished it. "I have a few books we can read from in the sunroom, if you like. Which do you prefer," he said, laying the three books out. "Beedle the Bard, Stellaluna, or Arrow to the Sun?" Hugo pointed to Stellaluna, grasping Percy's finger as they went to the sunroom to read. He read Stellaluna three times, at Hugo's silent request. The boy's bright brown eyes lit up every time the bat and her little bird friends hugged at the end.

"Do you want to go back to the carnival?" Hugo shrugged and buried his mop of curls into Percy's side. "Was it just the fireworks that were too loud, or were the people too loud too?" he asked, weighing his hands back and forth. Hugo put both hands in Percy's. "I understand. It was rather chaotic out there. Lots of noise." Hugo nodded. "If I put some headphones on to make it quiet, would you like to go outside? The petting zoo, cake walk and broom riding booth looked like fun." Hugo worried his lower lip, looking much like his father had at the same age.

Ron hadn't been on the spectrum, exactly, but he'd always been a more sensitive child like Hugo. That was most likely why he was so partial to the lad. He'd always preferred Ron to the rest of his siblings, though he tried to cover up his partiality the best he could. Whenever he had a choice, he'd make sure Ron got his castoffs first because it meant more to him and he showed such care and kindness to all his items and pets.

His nephew had just turned four and still barely talked, but he had that same deep care within him about things. He held books with reverence, smiled with the same whole-bodied smile, and had a natural curiosity all his own. He hoped to hear Hugo talk more, eventually, because he imagined the boy had quite a lot to say. "So, headphones?" "Are... Are they Muggle?" Hugo whispered. Percy had to fight back the mad grin trying to make its way across his face. He hadn't heard Hugo in months, despite being around the boy many times. "They're very close to the ones you normally use, so sort of," Percy answered, bringing Hugo with him to raid the supply closet. "Your Dad and Uncle George invented them based on Muggle technology, but they don't use electricity. They use magic to help cancel out certain sounds, but still let you hear the important things." He held up a pair and Hugo looked glum. "Ready for me to put them on you?" Hugo shook his head, brows furrowing a bit. "What's wrong?" Hugo looked away and bit his lip. His nephew didn't much like things that were different from what he was used to. What did his headphones look like? They weren't the mass-produced ones. No, they were the prototypes, so they'd used actual Muggle tech and just spells on top of it. Percy racked his mind trying to remember the details of them. "Sorry they don't look like your normal ones from home. Did you need me to spell them another color?" Hugo stopped responding, looking to the ground. "They do the same job though... I can magic them to look more like the ones from home. Make them have have the same padding on the inside, change the color... Make them plastic-looking." Hugo suddenly nodded, running up to Percy and pulling at his sleeve. Ah, he'd forgotten about Hugo's interest in plastic. It took a few spells before Hugo finally put on the headphones and smiled. "Ready to go back out?" His nephew nodded, giving a thumbs up and a broad grin. "Excellent. I have it on good authority that there will be baby nifflers at the petting zoo."

#Hugo Weasley #Percy Weasley #Audrey Weasley #Lucy Weasley #Molly Weasley II #harry potter next gen #fan fic #my writing #amysthefardareismai

88 notes · View notes

avatarvader · 3 years

Text

A New Year’s Resolution

So this was made for the Romione Secret Santa Event in the HPRomione Discord (It’s a lot of fun and there are some great people in the server.). I was the secret santa for @be11atrixthestrange Hope you enjoy and happy holidays to all!

-------------

-------

Resolution

noun

A firm decision to do or not to do something.

--------

The night was waning upon the Burrow as snow trickled down upon its brightly lit windows. 2004 was coming to a close in about two hours. Ron was excited for the new year, another one in which he would get to spend with the most amazing and interesting person in the world to him. Ron felt his breast pocket for the box he had shrunk while Hermione was in the shower and grinned to himself.

He had it all planned out, when the clock would strike twelve everyone would cheer and Hermione would turn to give him a New Year’s kiss. He’d already be down on one knee, in one hand the ring he had purchased for her and roses in the other. He’d mastered the summon flowers charm when he learned that she’d gush over roses.

He had his speech already written down and he’d gone over it twelve times in the last week alone. Truthfully that’s why he worked at the Ministry so late recently. That and he was scared of blurting it out in the middle of dinner.

Thinking through everything and knowing it was finally happening tonight had made Ron parched. He made his way into the Burrow’s where he heard Angelina chatting with Ginny about their pregnancies while George was howling drunkenly about Verity to Harry.

“I can understand the need to make Christmas special,” George slurred “But Christmas is already a special time!”

“You don’t think that proposing on Christmas isn’t sweet?” Harry laughs, he too is on the tipsy side. “Better than what I did.” Harry lamented as he remembered his attempt to make his proposal to Ginny special. Harry had wanted to take her on a fly around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, before stopping on a cliffside overlooking the Black Lake. However, when he had gotten to The Burrow and saw her grinning face he panicked and proposed right there, in the Burrow’s kitchen…. as Molly was cooking. To say that his mother-in-law was enthused was an understatement.

“Well at least yours was memorable,” George nudged. “Verity won’t be able to remember whether it was Christmas or her proposal in a few years. Holiday proposals are stupid and overrated.” George declared.

Ron felt a sinking feeling in his stomach hearing his brother’s words. Of course, it was stupid. Why did I think this would be special? Ron picked up his drink and walked into the family room, his mood shot to hell.

Ron sat down on the love seat and stared at the fire that was roaring in the family hearth.

“Ronnie, you alright dear?” His mum asked with a smile. “You seem down.”

“I’m fine, mum.” Ron glanced away to see Hermione talking with Percy about a policy she was trying to pass. “Just- not feeling great is all.”

He felt his mum’s cool hand press on his forehead without warning. “Well, you don’t feel warm. Is it your stomach?”

It’s my heart, I really wanted to do this today.

“I’m sure it’s nothing Mum, how was Bermuda?” Ron replied, deftly wanting to change the subject.

“Oh it was lovely,” Molly gushed, “Your father and I had so much se-“

“Is that Charlie?” Ron cut in, blushing at what his mum was about to say. “I really don’t get to see him enough. Oi Charlie!” Ron got up and made his way over to Charlie and his lady friend he brought from Romania.

“5…4…3…2…1, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!” The Weasleys shouted as the clock chimed midnight, George and Angelina popped off some fireless fireworks in the house. They bounded from person to person pinging off of their noses before zooming away. Around them, couples turned into their respective partners and kissed in the New Year. Hermione turned to him and sank into his arms, her head pressing against his chest.

How perfect it would have been.

Hermione’s hands rested on Ron’s chest as she stood on her tiptoes to capture his lips with hers. Her hand pushes the small box in his breast pocket in his chest.

Oh fuck me, she’s going to find out!

“Ron, what’s that in your pocket?” She pressed his chest to feel the object again.

“N-Nothing.” Ron lied. Make this work in your favour, old boy.

“Did you forget to clean out your pockets?” Hermione scowled. “You KNOW they put cardboard in there so the shirt doesn’t wrinkle. I swear if our brand-new washing machine gets clogged up by cardboard you left in there, I’ll make sure you sleep on my side of the bed…” Ron cringed knowing her side was lumpy and stiffer than he cared for.

Execute this properly chap, timing is key.

“Hermione,” Ron sighed as she reached into his pocket and pulled out the deep blue box.

Ron watched Hermione’s eyes as she gazed at the box, he saw her eyes widen as she realized what it was.

Now old boy!! On your knee!

Ron sunk to his knee as he flicked his right hand to draw his wand from its holster. (Auror technique that makes for easy drawing.). He swooped it high over his head, never once letting his gaze be torn from Hermione’s eyes.

Rose petals appeared from nothingness and fell gently like snowflakes around them. The pair of them, despite being surrounded by the Weasley’s felt like they were alone in this one instance in time. All distractions unseen, all voices tuned out.

“R-Ron?” She gasped. “W-What are… What is this?”

“Hermione.” Ron’s heart was thumping in his chest. He held the box out for her to take from him. "Open it, love."

She opened the box and saw a beautiful, yet simple ring. It was the home to three (rather small) stones, Aquamarine and Sapphire on either side, with a slightly larger diamond in the middle. The band was silver, and woven in a lattice pattern. It was simple yet elegant.

“I-is that our birthstones?” Hermione said as she turned her attention back to Ron.

“I've wanted to ask you this to ask this for a long, long, time.” Ron swallowed thickly. “I love you. I love you so much a-and I want to be with you for the rest of my life.” Hermione’s free hand covered her mouth to stop herself from blurting out her answer, he clearly planned this for her and she wanted to make sure he said what he wanted to.

“As daft as it may be to ask this question-” He took the box from her hand and took the ring out and held it just over her left ring finger. “-Hermione Granger. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

“Yes, of course, Ron. Of course!” She said, her eyes brimming with tears. Ron slid the ring onto her finger and she crashed into him, hugging him as tightly as she ever had before.

Ron stood up and leaned in to kiss her again, which she happily responded to.

Reality snapped back, all of the Weasley siblings were watching the newly engaged couple.

Bill and Fleur hugged each other and smiled knowingly, they had seen how tenderly and affectionately Ron cared for her during their stay at Shell Cottage during the war.

Charlie grinned at his little brother, he knew that Ron would eventually get the courage to ask her. Charlie had helped Ron move into their place together and when Ron took Charlie out for obligatory drinks afterward, Ron couldn’t stop talking about how amazing Hermione was.

Percy smiled at the couple, reminiscing at how he watched their friendship blossom, growing up and becoming friends together during their first three years of Hogwarts. Hermione would come to Percy in a huff to ‘Sort out that brother of yours! He doesn’t care about his studies!’ Percy would never say it to her face, but he always thought Ron was a calming force for Hermione.

George was crying. The combination of a generous amount of alcohol and seeing his brother proposing had sent him over the edge. He wasn’t crying because he thought Ron was making a bad decision, or that Hermione and he weren't compatible. He was crying because of the bet he lost all those years ago. Fred bet him during their 6th year that Ron and Hermione would get engaged at a family function and that Ron wouldn’t hesitate for even a moment. George thought that Ron would be a mumbling and stumbling mess. He owed Fred now and his twin wasn’t around to collect.

Ginny was surprised to find Ron on his knee, he was talking to Hermione in low tones, so only they could hear each other. It was quite clear what he was doing though. Ginny’s heart leaped as she saw her brother, her closest friend growing up, slide the ring on Ginny's best friend. She muttered a quick “It’s about time isn’t it?” To her husband jokingly when she realized. Harry was crying. She rubbed Harry’s back soothingly.

Harry took off his glasses as he watched his best best friend in the whole world propose to his other best friend who was like a sister to him. Harry knew they’d be happy together. Despite all their bickering and arguments at Hogwarts, it seemed that dating and living together seemed to ease the tension between them. Admittedly, there was PROBABLY another factor, but Harry didn’t want to think about their intimate life that deeply. It was bad enough walking in on them in the kitchen the one time. Harry knew they would make each other happy. That was all he wanted for them. His best friends, who gave him so much joy and happiness in his life when he needed it most. The pair that had almost acted as parents to him during school. They had a certain way with each other, their love for each other came naturally, all they had to do was get there. Harry only wanted the best for his closest friends, and the fact that they seemed to choose each other filled Harry’s heart with so much emotion.

Molly turned after kissing her husband to see Ron on his knee in front of Hermione a ring of rose petals shower down upon them and Ron slipped a ring on her finger.

“What just happened?!” She squeaked to her husband. “Oh, Merlin I missed it!!” She lamented as Hermione sank into her now Fiancé’s arms. The newly engaged couple kissed, both smiling into each other's lips. Ron pulled back and looked around the room and flushed red with embarrassment.

“So, erm…. Happy New Year?” He said sheepishly. Molly squealed with joy and rushed to wrap her youngest child in her arms. She kissed his forehead before she moved over to her future daughter in law.

Arthur smiled at his youngest boy as he was congratulated by his siblings. Ginny, Fleur and Molly were cooing over the beauty of the ring. Ron was being pounded on his back by Charlie, and George had slung his arm around Ron’s shoulders singing a hearty and happy song.

Arthur made his way into the crowd. “I believe an official 'welcome' to the family is in order, Hermione. We're so excited it's finally official.” Arthur opened his arms wide as she hugged him rather tightly.

“There’s no other family I’d want to join,” she said with a beaming smile as she pulled out of the hug. Hermione was soon distracted by Molly fretting over wedding plans so Arthur turned to his boy.

“Ronnie.” Ron looked up and saw his dad with slight tears in his eyes, “You’ve found your perfect person. I’m so happy for you, my boy.” Ron gave his dad a big hug and Arthur almost broke down then and there.

“What can I say, I know what a good match is after all.” Ron nudged his dad's side, “After all, I got to see how happy you and Mum were all this time. Gave me something to look forward to, y’know?” Arthur gave his son another hug.

The night progressed rather quickly after that. Soon enough it was two in the morning, and Ron and Hermione had flooed home. They were both dog tired after the events of the night and just wanted sleep. Ron had changed into his pajamas and laid on his side of the bed looking at the ceiling. He was remembering every little detail about his proposal, but he kept coming back to seeing Hermione’s eyes during his speech. They were the perfect shade of chocolate brown and he watched her eyes as they smiled at her new ring.

Hermione came in from the bathroom and sat down on her side of the bed. She snuggled up on Ron’s chest, her left hand resting on the other side of his torso. She looked at the ring again and her heart did flips at how perfect it was.

“So I have to ask,” She started, “How much of that went as planned?”

“Honestly? Pretty much exactly as I wanted it to.” She could hear the grin on his face without looking at him. “Didn’t expect you to find the ring, but after that, it went right as I wanted it to.”

“I'm so happy right now, Ron.” She sighed.

“Well good, It was my New Year’s resolution last year to make you happy and in typical Ron fashion I got it done… just a tad late is all.” Ron placed a hand against her back and she pressed against him closer.

“If that was last year’s then what is this year's?” She looked at him coyly.

“This year’s? Propose to you.” He laughed.

“Well, that job's done then, isn't it?!”

“Gotta be early for some things, right?” He ran his hands down her arms. “How about you? Any resolutions?”

“Marry the love of my life.” She kissed him deeply and tugged at his trousers. “And I fully intend to enjoy married life with him, as well.”

THE END

#2020 hpromione discord secret santa exchange #romione #ron weasley #hermione granger

31 notes · View notes

dragonologist-in-the-making · 4 years

Text

Completely Enamoured Part Two

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x reader

Summary: y/n goes to the burrow for her annual summer visit, but other than the twins, no one knows that her and Charlie are now together.

A/N: Hello I’m so sorry this was later than I promised, yesterday was such an emotional mess and I got like half of the stuff I was supposed to do, done. But to make up for it this is suuuuuper long and just completely fluff. Like teeth-rotting fluff. Just teenage, domestic fun. Hope you enjoy! xx

Wordcount: 2.2k

Part 1

…

y/n hugged her mum goodbye at the top of the hill closest to the Burrow. She pulled the trunk containing the belongings she would need from the boot of the car, the muggle transport having always proved the most effective. “See you in a week!” She shouted after the car as it drove away, using her wand to make the trunk hover alongside her as she walked down, glad to finally be seventeen and be able to use magic for convenience.

She couldn’t wait to see Charlie again – since they had confessed their feelings to each other they had become impossibly closer, and the few weeks apart since their Hogwarts graduation had not done much but make her miserable, exchanging letters almost daily, to poor Errol’s dismay. His last letter to her made her laugh, as she was reminded how they were still yet to tell the family that their friendship was more than that (other than Fred and George, who had of course been involved in their getting together).

The familiar building came into sight, and she felt her heart light up. The time she spent here had always been her favourite week of every summer, and she had grown incredibly close with the whole family, with the possible exception of Percy, as a result of this time, coupled with the good words of Bill and Charlie as they made their way through school together. She used her wand to lift her trunk over the wall as she stepped through the gate, three figures burst through the door and came streaming towards her, all crying her name.

Charlie was the first to reach her, being much taller and faster than the twins, engulfing her in his arms as he swung her in a circle, her laughter ringing out in delight. He set her back on the floor, standing back a little but keeping his arms circled around her, his face split in a wide smile.

“I missed you, y/n/n” she stepped forward, bouncing onto her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek, moving back before anyone watching from the house would notice.

“Missed you too, Charlie. It’s so nice to be here again.” She beamed at him for a second, before someone else’s hand was around her wrist and was pulling her away from her boyfriend.

“Okay, he’s had enough of your attention, it’s our turn.” She hugged the twins, glad to see them again and sad that she wouldn’t see the rest of their escapades in Hogwarts, them having been the highlight of her last two years there.

“There’s plenty of time for my attention over the next week, Fred.” y/n replied as they too took a step back, but glancing at each other with a look that was completely opposite to Charlie’s, one of pure disgust.

“I’m George!” he cried, resulting in Charlie and y/n laughing loudly.

“Yeah, Fred, that doesn’t work with me.” She deadpanned, as the twins both huffed and turned back towards the house. Charlie picked up y/n’s trunk and gestured for her to follow them into the house.

They walked into the kitchen, where the smell of something sweet immediately washed over her, and the comforting chaos of the burrow was immediately apparent.

“y/n, dear, it’s so lovely to see you again. How have you been since graduation?” Molly walked over to her, pulling her into the tightest hug yet since arriving at the Weasley household.

“Missing your boys.” She admitted, a knowing look appearing in Molly’s eyes. “It’s weird to think that we won’t be going back.”

“Are you missing one boy maybe more than the others?” She hinted. y/n’s first few years visiting the Burrow went without these comments from Molly, being too young for romance, but as soon as fifth year hit, there were countless comments about y/n and Charlie becoming a couple – which before they had both laughed off, and now they both chuckled awkwardly, wondering if this would be the way that she found out.

“She’s not still harping on about that, is she? Give them a break mum, y/n’s not been here for five minutes.” A new voice popped up behind them, saving them from the blush that had been creeping up on their cheeks. Y/n turned, delighted to see the oldest Weasley brother, another one of her close friends from her time at Hogwarts, although he had graduated before her and Charlie, and so she hadn’t seen him much in the last few years.

Yet again, she was wrapped into a warm hug – a trend in the family, no doubt – one that was familiar by far. “How’s curse breaking?” She asked, winking once Molly had turned her back, thinking back to their days at Hogwarts and the Cursed Vaults.

“I’m loving it. Any ideas what you’ll be doing?”

“Not the specifics, but definitely magical creatures. I think I want to help rescued creatures, get them back to the wild, you know.” She spoke, as the three of them began to walk up the stairs. They stopped on the way so that y/n could greet the other Weasley children, not believing how much Ron and Ginny had grown in the year since she last saw them, Ron himself about to start his magical schooling in a few months.

They said goodbye to Bill as they reached Charlie’s room, both heading inside as he placed her trunk against the wall. When y/n came to stay, she was given Charlie’s room and he moved in with Bill for the week – Ginny being ten it seemed that sharing a room with her might not have been the most comfortable situation. Charlie closed the door behind him, leaning against it with a sigh as his eyes rested on her.

“Finally.” With a few short steps he had closed the distance between them, his hands bringing her closer to him and tangling in her hair as their lips met in the middle. She melted into the kiss, having missed his lips so much, swiping her tongue against his bottom lip as she deepened the kiss and they began to stumble backwards, heading towards the bed.

They fell onto it roughly and broke apart laughing at their clumsiness. Charlie swung himself up to sit against the headboard, and y/n joined him, crawling into his arms and he pulled the Daily Prophet from his bedstand, one hand flicking through the pages as the other slowly pulled through her hair. He skipped to the section where jobs were being advertised, and they both sighed at the lack of anything suitable for them, promising to look again the next day.

They stayed in Charlie’s bed, cuddled up together, catching up on what they had been up to since they graduated, recounting stories which had been told in letters, ones which had been too mundane to include at the time. Hours passed, the blue sky outside the window turning to brilliant shades of orange and pink and Bill abruptly interrupted them, opening the door without knocking and walking in, stopping in his tracks as he saw them tangled up together lying on the bed. They had always been close before, sure, hand-holding wasn’t out of the ordinary, and their hugs always lasted beats longer than normal, but this was beyond that.

“Uh-sorry, Mum wanted me to tell you dinner is ready.” Bill spoke eventually, eyes still flicking between the two of them as they jumped off the bed, unable to refrain from saying something, thinking it was worth the panic-induced lecture he would undoubtedly be given from his brother later that night. “You two seemed very cosy.” To his surprise, Charlie didn’t start blushing like mad, immediately jumping in to change the direction of the conversation, instead just shrugging, throwing his arm over y/n’s shoulder as they walked towards the door.

“What, do you expect me to sit on the other side of the room from my girlfriend?” Their roles were reversed as Bill was the one left spluttering, blocking the door to prevent their exit – by non-magical means at least – needing to know more.

“You did it?” He asked to Charlie, a smile finally breaking across his face. “You asked her out?”

“Well, she actually cornered me until I told her how I felt, and then she kissed me. But sure, I asked her out.” y/n rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, but Bill looked ecstatic, clapping his brother on the shoulder proudly.

“Took you both long enough. Who knows?”

“Fred and George – they helped to get us together – and that’s it so far, other than the whole of Hogwarts. It’s fun to pretend.” She laughed, and he finally moved from the doorway, heading downstairs as the couple moved away from each other slightly, regaining the pretence that they were still just best friends, after they had made Bill swear not to tell.

…

They touched back down onto the ground, both pushing their windswept hair from their faces as they put the brooms back into the shed, making their way across the garden back to the house. With Charlie’s head start of a few seconds, y/n took the opportunity to let him get a few steps ahead, before running at him and leaping onto his back, that delightful laugh that Charlie still loved so ringing out as he stumbled at the unexpected weight, trying to regain is balance but failing as they toppled to the floor.

“Oh that’s it, y/l/n, you’re dead.” He laughed as he rolled on top of her, pinning her down as she instantly started to struggle under him, fighting to break free and fighting against the weakness brought about by her laughter. She resorted to her secret weapon, knowing it was the only way to gain her freedom, fingers reaching to Charlie’s side and tickling him, pushing him from her at the first chance she had and leaping to her feet, streaming towards the house before Charlie could catch her.

She made it through the back door seconds before he did, making her way to the table where the new edition of the Prophet lay. Charlie sat down and she stood behind him, absentmindedly working her fingers through the knots in his hair and beginning to braid it as he opened the paper.

“Have fun flying?” Molly asked from the other side of the kitchen, eyeing them up suspiciously as y/n’s hands were tied in Charlie’s hair and she was leaning over his shoulder to read the paper along with him, wondering when they would finally admit their feelings for each other, which only became more obvious as they grew older.

“Oh it was brilliant. I just wish I were as good as Charlie.” y/n replied with a smile, turning her attention back to the newspaper as she gasped, holding his braid in one hand as the other pointed towards the ad she had spotted. “Look! An opening on the dragon reserve in Romania, Charlie, this is perfect!” The excitement between the two of them grew at the prospect of working together, with dragons.

“Romania?” Molly asked, walking over to look at the advert too, the apprehension clear in her voice, which y/n knew was from the idea that yet another of her children would be moving so far away. “Oh, look, there’s only a one bedroom flat available, though.” She pointed out, a sigh following which seemed halfway between genuine and put on.

“Well that shouldn’t be a problem, we don’t need two bedrooms.” Charlie spoke offhandedly, before the three of them froze, him having given up their game.

“Well one of you won’t be sleeping on the sofa, that’s for sure!” Molly reprimanded, not seeming to have caught on. y/n looked at Charlie, who nodded, knowing that it was time to finally tell her.

“We don’t need two bedrooms because we can share one.” Her son spoke gently, bringing one of his hands up to hold the one of y/n’s that was resting on his shoulder, eyes boring into his mother as hers looked between her son, the girl standing behind him, and their connected hands.

“You’re not telling me?” She gasped, hands flying in front of her face. “You two are-” she was interrupted by their silent nods, the tears already visibly brimming in Molly’s eyes. “Oh I can’t believe you’ve finally admitted it!” She cried, pulling them both into bone-crushing hugs. “I’ve always known you would be great together. And now you’re going to be in Romania, living together. And y/n dear, you’ve always been a part of this family, this just makes it even more official.” By now some tears had managed to escape Molly’s eyes as she let them out of the hug and bustled out of the kitchen, mumbling about telling Arthur and her grown up children.

Charlie turned to face his girlfriend, kissing her for the first time all week without caring who might have seen, excited at the prospect of their future together, nothing but happiness and adventures before them. She was shining, looking utterly radiant as he admired her, breaking him out of his trance with her simple statement, his laugh bouncing around the room.

“I knew we could make her cry.”

#harry potter #harry potter fic #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #charlie x reader #weasley x reader #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts mystery era #charlie weasley fluff #completely enamoured part two #charlie weasley fic

190 notes · View notes

megslangley02 · 4 years

Text

Out of Place - Percy Jackson x Reader

Masterlist

Prompt List

Percy Jackson x Reader

Requested by Anonymous

Can you make a x reader with Percy Jackson were the reader is feeling insecure and Percy makes her feel better?

Word Count - 1.8k

The summer after your 16th birthday, everything had changed. You'd discovered the truth about your parents after living with your dad your whole life with no mother. Your dad was a regular human and your mum... Well, your mum just happened to be a Goddess. The Goddess of the Hunt and Wilderness to be specific; Artemis.

You'd always been good at Latin in school and then, after realising your true identity, it made sense. The knowledge you had was already rooted deep inside of you and the legends and myths you learned were now your reality. That summer you had gone to Camp Half-Blood and met others like you. People with the skills you had and who were also children of Gods. You moved into Cabin 8 and became a Hunter of Artemis along with your siblings.

You had now been at Camp for at least a year and you understood more about your mother and being a hunter. Being a child of Artemis meant that you were extremely skilled with a bow and arrow, just like your siblings, and that you were quite quick on your feet.

Although you spent a lot of time with your siblings, you were also close to some of the other campers. Including Percy Jackson, the son of Poseidon. You were sat at dinner with Grover, Annabeth and a couple of your siblings when Percy walked over, having been talking with Chiron for a while. He sat down in the empty spot next to you and reached for some food, smiling at you.

"Hey, how's your day been?" Percy asked lightly.

"Yeah, good thanks. Yours?" You replied, smiling at him. He nodded in response but gave you a strange look you couldn't quite decipher.

The truth was it hadn't been much of a good day but you didn't need Percy to know that. He already had so much going on his life and you didn't want to complicate it more by overloading him with things he didn't need to worry about. One of those things being that you liked him...

You'd been crushing on Percy pretty much since the day you'd met him but never had the courage to tell him. It was stupid, there's no way the Son of Poseidon would be interested in someone like you. Or at least that's how you viewed it. Sure, you and Percy were close but he was close with everyone, you weren't an exception.

Anyway, you'd struggled through your day no matter how awful it was. First off, one of your younger siblings had borrowed your favourite bow and broken it. You knew you could find another one but you'd liked that one and it was annoying to go through the process of finding another good one. Then you'd had to face a whole load of Ares' kids in one-to-one fights and had pretty much lost them all. Being a Hunter meant you were good at long-distance fighting; shooting and running for example. Up close, you weren't quite as quick as other campers and you hated it.

You continued to tuck into your dinner until one of the Ares campers walked past and shoved you slightly, causing you to spill your drink.

"Oh sorry, Y/n!" She said, full of sarcasm, "I didn't see you there." She smirked, walking on to her table.

You looked up at the rest of your table, hoping no one had noticed. Luckily, they were all deep in conversation and you didn't think anyone had.

Then another Ares girl came along and shoved you just like her sister, a little harder this time. You looked up at her and glared.

"What? Are you gonna get angry little Hunter? I'm sure I could push you to the floor easily just like earlier in the arena." She raised her eyebrows at you and smiled wickedly before moving on.

You'd had enough and mumbled something to the rest of the group about needing to re-string your bow before standing up and walking away. You felt tears threatening to fall. You knew you shouldn't listen to them but you couldn't help it. You felt like you didn't belong here, at all. You weren't good enough to be the child of a Goddess and you knew your mother would never be proud of you. Yes, she had claimed you when you'd arrived but, since then, you never felt a strong connection with her. You wanted to go back to how it was before you knew you were only half human. Things were better then, you'd had loads of friends at school and been on loads of sports teams due to your enhanced speed and strength. Even more, you were happy.

You weren't miserable at camp, but you were far from happy. The first few months it had been excusable, you were new. But now, it was just a joke and you hated how useless you felt.

Wandering through camp lost in your thoughts, you eventually found yourself in the forest by a small stream. You sat down and put your head in your hands, closing your eyes and letting a few tears begin to fall. You didn't want to feel like this but you didn't know how to fix it. You'd tried to train to be better but it just seemed like you weren't improving at all. If anything, the extra training you put in just made you feel even more tired when you had to actually fight. You were so lost in your head that you didn't hear someone in the woods until they sat down next to you, causing you to jump out of your skin.

You knew straight away it was Percy, his distinctive smell floating into the air around you. "I wondered where you'd run off to but I had a feeling it would be here." He muttered, nudging you slightly.

You lifted your head and looked at him. His expression changed to worry when he saw your red puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"Y/n? What happened?" He asked, his voice laced with worry.

"Nothing," You whispered, shaking your head and trying to wipe the tears away, which was no use because the taps were open now and they just kept falling no matter how hard you tried to stop them.

"You're a terrible liar, you know. You have a tell." He chuckled slightly as you raised your eyebrows questionably.

"Whenever I ask if you're okay or how your day was, you tell me it's good but you always look away straight after and don't look me straight in the eye. You just put on a smile and keep going." He said, smiling sadly.

You looked at him, not knowing what to say.

"So, Y/n... Are you okay?" He asked, taking your hand in his.

You looked into his eyes and knew you couldn't lie to him.

"No, not really," you murmured, looking down at the ground "I... I just feel useless, Perce. Sure, I can fire an arrow but that's about as far as my skill set goes and I've tried so hard to be better but I'm just not. And the Ares girls they just..."

You trailed off trying to fight back a fresh fall of tears.

Percy didn't say anything for a moment, instead, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug. He rested his head on yours, "Y/n, you are not useless. And you have way more skills than firing arrows, although you are pretty amazing at it. I've never seen anyone hit the middle of a target every time like you." He said, causing you to smile slightly. "And who cares about the Ares kids, they're a bunch of arrogant a-holes with pea-brains." You laughed slightly as he retracted his arms to look at you.

"There it is," He smiled, "that amazing smile." You blushed slightly and looked away.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry it took me so long to realise you were feeling this way. I wish you could see how awesome you are."

"No, it's okay. I didn't want to dump it all on you, you have a lot on your plate." You replied, placing your hand on his.

"I wouldn't mind having more if that meant spending time with you..." He answered, his cheeks flushing slightly pink as he looked at you.

You looked up at him through blurred eyes and your eyebrows moved together as you tried to find out what he was feeling. Normally you could read him like a book because his poker face was not very good but right now, you couldn't read him at all.

His hand moved from yours to your cheek as he wiped away the last few tears that fell.

"You're so beautiful, Y/n. You're unlike anyone I've ever met. You're the kindest, funniest and most brilliant person I know." He whispered, staring into your eyes. You could feel the heat rushing into your cheeks as he looked at you.

His eyes flicked down your lips, only momentarily but you'd caught it. You took the leap and leaned closer into him and closed your eyes. He followed, closing the rest of the gap and pressing his lips onto yours. Your hands moved to the back of his head, tangling in his dark hair, his arms snaking around your waist. The kiss was slightly salty and you thought it was probably a mixture of your tears and the fact that you were kissing the Son of Poseidon.

Percy pulled away and looked at you, seeming mesmerised.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," He smiled down at you. You shook your head and smiled back, "I was just about to say the same thing..."

He kissed you again before pulling away and standing up.

"C'mon, I saved the rest of my dinner for you," He offered his hand and pulled you up.

You suddenly realised that you hadn't really touched much of your food before leaving dinner and you were still hungry. The two of you walked out of the forest and over towards Percy's cabin, where he'd stashed the rest of the food. Once inside, you sat on Percy's bed and rested your head on his shoulder whilst you munched your way through the rest of your meal.

"Y/n," he started, "you know what you said about fighting and everything..."

You looked up at him and hummed in response, your mouth filled with salad.

"What if I trained you?"

You sat up and looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Only if you want to, of course." He added, seeing the quizzical look on your face.

The look quickly morphed into a smile as you nodded, "that would be amazing. Thank you, Perce."

"Hey, anything to show those Ares girls who's boss right?" He chuckled as you wrapped your arms around him and hugged him tightly, sighing happily.

You smiled as he rested his head on yours. He was here for you and right now, that's all you needed.

#percy jackson #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x reader #percy x reader #out of place #demigod #poseidon #son of poseidon #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics

295 notes · View notes

thehopeofitalll · 3 years

Text

2. enchanted.

THEY MEET! THEY MEET! anyways...just a suggestion, but you should probably listen to taylor swift's "enchanted" because, well it's an amazing song, what more can i say?

read it on ao3.

“Look who’s here!” Thalia said, grinning. “My…” She drummed her fingers against the table, making up for an imaginary drum roll, as a figure walked towards Annabeth, Jason and Thalia.

“...girlfriend!” Thalia finished, a rare smile on her face that she always showed to her aforementioned girlfriend.

“Reyna!” Annabeth exclaimed, smiling as she stood up to hug her friend. “You’re back? I thought you said it’d take you a few more months!”

“As you know,” Reyna began in a horrible imitation of a British accent, struggling to hold back her grin. “I am very well versed in the art of lying.”

“One of the truest things you’ve said in, like, your entire life I think,” Thalia added, getting a playful punch from her girlfriend.

“Still know how to be a badass, Chase?” Reyna asked, raising an eyebrow.

Annabeth smirked. “You should have figured that being a badass has been in my blood since I was born,” She replied.

“Maybe I could race you,” pondered Reyna. “It’d be fun to see you lose.”

“Hey! That’s not fair,” Annabeth muttered, folding her arms. “You’ve literally got a sports scholarship based on your running, and I bet you’ve practiced a lot all the way back in Berkeley.”

Reyna shrugged. “Yeah, you'd lose either way. So, it’s been a few years since we’ve seen each other and things have certainly changed. Someone’s got a little famous.”

“All because of her wonderful manager,” Thalia said, proudly.

“Oh shush,” Annabeth said, folding her arms. “Also, Thalia, about the whole getting-away-from-the-world-for-a-few-hours thing, I’m planning on sneaking away to Coney Island.”

“Coney Island?”

“Hey, I’ve wanted to go see it for a long time now, and this might be the perfect opportunity,” Annabeth reasoned.

“But so many people there could see you!” Thalia argued. “Like, thousands! It isn’t exactly the most secluded place for someone who wants to be anonymous and all that shit.”

“Relax, you know how good I am at disguising myself. I promise not to let the paparazzi get a hold of me. Okay?” Annabeth asked.

Thalia hesitated, then sighed. “Well…” she began. “Okay, fine. But you better be careful, young lady.”

“Yes, mom,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes in Classic Annabeth Style, her voice dry with irony.

Usually it was Annabeth who was called “The Mom Friend” of the group (though she preferred to be the one who always advises her friends to not do the dumb shit they eventually end up doing. It wasn’t her fault she was the only one who had common sense).

“So?” Annabeth asked. “What’s the schedule for today?”

“Well, I’ve managed to give you around roughly two to three hours of free time, but besides that we’ve got the usual shooting. Thankfully, I think you have only a few scenes today, and I’m guessing the other stars are shooting most of their scenes today,” Thalia said, whipping out her clipboard.

“Fun.”

—🎡—

“Late to work again, Perry Johansson?” Mr. D exclaimed, with a groan.

“Sorry, Mr. D!” Percy said, sheepishly. He’d thought it was a Sunday morning, pressed the snooze button on his alarm five times and was late to the cafe for work. “Won’t happen again!”

“That’s what you told a week back!”

“Rough morning, huh?” Percy’s best friend, Piper McLean, asked, her eyes surveying his more-dishevelled-than-usual hair.

“That would be an understatement,” Percy replied, groaning.

“Nightmares?” Piper asked.

He nodded, as she gave him a sympathetic look.

It was common knowledge to all of his friends that he had nightmares, caused by his abusive past. Sometimes he woke up, sweating, his throat sore after yelling in his sleep. When he stayed with his mom, and his stepdad, she would usually rush into the room as soon as the screaming began. But once he moved out, he learnt to calm himself down. It didn’t help though, he found himself having panic attacks while thrashing around in his bed.

“And, hm, let me guess,” Piper began, feigning to be in deep thought. “You stayed up all night painting?”

He rolled his eyes, confirming that she was correct. “The nightmares were getting too much for me,” he mumbled.

Piper nodded, staying silent. She, and all of his friends, knew about his past. It wasn’t exactly easy to hide the long scar that ran down your back, when you were the captain of your swim team back at school.

“Well,” he said, drawing out the l. “How are things with Jason? Didn’t you tell me that you started dating?”

“Yeah…” Piper smiled. “He’s amazing, Percy. He cares a lot about me. I think he’s...perfect.”

He grinned. “Well, years of screaming at both of you to date each other finally paid off,” he said.

“Yes, Jackson, I truly appreciate it,” Piper said sarcastically. She turned around to greet the customer who had just come in, with a perfect smile on her face. “Hello and welcome to Olympus!”

Percy pulled out his phone, scrolling through his nearly non-existent proof of his social life, not really paying attention. He eyed a few messages from his cousin, Thalia Grace, planning to reply to it later, when a single word caught his eyes:

Annabeth.

Wait, what about Annabeth? he typed back hurriedly, fixing the typos that came along the way.

She replied almost immediately.

Knew that would catch your eyes, Kelp Head. - Pinecone Face

He let out a soft huff, but grinning affectionately nevertheless. He could literally hear the smirk in her message.

We’ve talked about this, Thalia. But what did she say?

Don’t worry, she didn’t say anything. I just mentioned her while reminding you about how dad wants you to come to dinner. And I know you well enough to figure out that you’d never check a message the first time you see it, unless it mentioned someone like, you know, Annabeth. - Pinecone Face.

You’re an asshole, Thals.

I know right! It’s one of the many things I’m good at, thinking of adding it to my resume~ - Pinecone Face.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His eyes were trained on his phone as Thalia continued to be typing something more.

Don’t forget about the dinner! Dad specifically requested that you and Nico must be there, or something. - Pinecone Face.

He was going to type back a quick yeah, okay and head back to the front, where Piper was greeting customers, when another message from Thalia popped up.

Hey, if you’re lucky, we might even run into Annabeth ;) - Pinecone Face

Not the winky face, he replied, unable to stop the grin from coming on his face.

—🎡—

There I was again tonight forcing laughter, faking smiles Same old tired, lonely place Walls of insincerity Shifting eyes and vacancy vanished when I saw your face All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you. —🎡—

Percy yelled, “I’m leaving as soon as I finish three more orders, you hear me?”

“I hear you, alright!” Piper yelled back, as she picked up her phone and walked towards him.

“I honestly wonder why I’m such a good friend,” Percy said, leaning against the counter. “Why am I always the one who covers the last 15 minutes of his friend’s shift?”

“Because you love me, and think I’m the most amazing person to ever walk on earth,” Piper replied, grinning proudly, as she flicked her dark brown hair over her shoulder.

“Of course I do,” Percy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now, go meet Mr. Loverboy.”

“And you?” Piper asked. “What are you gonna be doing this evening?”

“Visiting the Ferris wheel in Coney Island,” Percy replied.

“Again?” Piper asked. “You were there, like, three weeks back. You need to get a social life, Perce.”

“Mm, I was just planning on spending my life with blue cookies,” he said. “And, it isn’t a waste of time. I learn more about landscapes and silhouettes, you know.”

“Ah yes, painting stuff,” Piper summed up. “Honestly, I don’t understand you at times, and we’ve been friends for so long.”

“I’m an artiste, Pipes,” Percy replied, grinning, with a terrible French accent on the artiste.

“Mhm, sure,” Piper mumbled. “Okay, don’t mess up the rest of the orders. I’ll see you soon.”

As Piper made her way out of the shop, Percy sighed. While he lazily waited for someone new to come in, he found himself bored, again.

He could blame his restlessness on his ADHD but in reality he never wanted to work here, he just needed some money while he struggled with becoming a popular artist, and he had to work here until the aquarium nearby finally accepted his resume. Then he’d be out of here.

He was tired. Tired of faking smiles, tired of seeing people bustling around in here, tired of vacant spaces. He couldn’t wait to leave this place behind him.

While he ruminated about this, another customer walked in, wearing a dark blue hoodie, with the hood pulled all the way down to their nose.

Percy stifled a groan and took his place at the counter. “Hey, welcome to Olympus Cafe. What would you like today?”

“One Chocolate Creme Frappuccino, please,” came the woman’s voice. He nodded, slightly pleased that he wasn’t the only one in the world who liked that drink off their menu.

He went inside to prepare her drink. When he came back, she was resting her head on her palm. “Name?” he asked.

“Oh? Uh, Annabe-Annabel,” she replied, stuttering a little bit.

He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question her. Writing Annabel on the cup, he pushed a straw in her drink. “That’ll be $4.95,” he said.

She nodded, reaching to her pocket. Percy always hated this part of delivering an order: that awkward silence while the customer got out their money.

He looked at the woman before him, as she fumbled around while bringing out her wallet. He could barely see her, but she had tan skin and maybe he caught a few wisps of golden hair. A five dollar bill fell out of her wallet, floating towards the ground.

“Shit,” she muttered.

Percy tried to hide a smile at that. He didn’t know why a random woman before him mumbling profanities was amusing to him. She bent down to pick up the dollar, and when she stood up her hood had fallen. Percy looked at her, then suddenly stopped fidgeting around.

Was it…? It was.

He knew how she looked from their time in high school. Stormy grey eyes. Honey blonde hair. He definitely knew her, knew her all too well.

She quickly pushed the bill towards him, and pulled her hood back up. A faint flicker of recognition passed through those intimidating eyes, as he took the dollar.

He picked up the cup, and handed it to her. She reached out for the cup, her fingers slightly brushing against his. A little spark seemed to drive up his arm, and despite himself, he grinned goofily.

“It was enchanting to meet you,” He said, then winked at her.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, a faint blush of red coating her cheeks nevertheless. “That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard,” she said, her voice low.

He continued to grin as she looked up, sea green eyes meeting grey, then turned around to leave the shop. There was no mistake about it. It was her. Annabeth.

Annabeth Chase.

#percabeth #percabeth au #the fast times #coney island #maybe i'm just biased but enchanted is an amazing song #still horrible at tags

6 notes · View notes

selfwriting-sugarquills · 4 years

Text

Heat in the rain pt. 1

Description: Y/N lost a lot of things in the war, and when she’s forced to leave her childhood home she heads to the first place she can think of: The flat of Fred and George Weasley, so what if she hasn’t spoken to her best friends in months, if they can’t help her now, then what are friends for?

Pairings: Eventual George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Brief mentionings of death, injuries, eventual angst.

Word count: 2104

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 final |

(This is my first imagine for the Weasley twins, I hope you enjoy it, be sure to keep an eye out for the next chapter! xxx)

George Weasley finished up closing the shop at about six o’clock pm on a Friday night. He ascended the stairs leading up to his and Fred’s apartment slowly, already loosening his tie, exhausted from another week of sales. He loved his business (which wasn’t hard to do, considering how well it was going) but he had to admit that it had been hard coming out on the other side of war only to waltz into a joke shop and sell people laughs for a living. This he’d never say out loud, not wanting to sound ungrateful, his job was, after all, a pretty easy one; he was literally living his dream.

Opening the door to the apartment he stepped inside, stepped out of his shoes and shrug off his suit jacket. Walking into the kitchen he was met by his twin, who had gone upstairs ten minutes earlier, standing in the kitchen, and opened beer beside him as he was reading a letter, which he held in his right hand, whilst his left swung his wand lazily, making pots and pans fly around behind him, with a small flick of the wand, a knife floated towards a cutting board with vegetables on it, where it started chopping away.

“Hey,” George said simply, as he went past the kitchen and into his bedroom on the right side of the apartment, hanging up his jacket in his closet and beginning to change into some more comfortable clothes as Fred yelled a ‘hi’ back at him from the kitchen, from where the unmistakable sound of fried garlic and onion was seeping into George’s bedroom. After pulling a sweater over his head, he stretched his neck, noticing how his muscles in his shoulders tensed in protest. He went into the kitchen and found himself a beer, feeling he deserved it as it was Friday and since he was exhausted. As he opened the bottle, Fred put down the parchment and picked his own bottle up and took a swig of it, still eyeing the letter.

“Who’s that from?” George asked, sitting himself down on one of the barstools they’d put at the other side of the kitchen counter,

“Mum,” Said Fred, “She’s asking us if we’re coming to spend Christmas at the Burrow,” He smiled, “As if we have any choice,” He added, chuckling a little, “Charlie apparently said he’d be there, so did Bill, Fleur and Percy, I wouldn’t be surprised if Ron and co. showed up as well either.” He said, George glanced at the parchment noting how much was written on it, there was a second page below it, “And she decided to ask us in every language or what?” He asked, nodding at the letter, Fred glanced down at it as well then broke out into a snicker, “No, the rest is her being way too worried about my leg, honestly, she’s acting as if it will just fall right off any second!” He said, George finished taking a sip from his bottle then asked: “How is your leg?”

Fred spread out his arms a little and stepped away from the counter, “Well right now it’s going pretty great if I’m being honest,” He said, “Reckon I’ll be ready to get rid of the old walking stick by new year’s.” He picked up the walking stick, which had been leaning on the counter beside him,

“You know, maybe mum’s right to be worried about you,” George began a little hesitantly, “You did go back to work really soon, and you’re not exactly one to take breaks once you’re working,”

Fred’s smile broadened a little, “I appreciate the nurturing advice, mate, but you’re honestly beginning to sound like Hermione,”

“All I’m saying is that it’s better that you take extra care now, so you won’t have to continue caring for the rest of your life, Fred,” George said, putting down his beer on the counter, “If you’d gotten out of that explosion with a twisted ankle then yeah, there would be no need to be cautious but if it hadn’t been for Percy pushing you out the way you would be lucky if you’d even had a leg by now-”

Fred looked like he was about to say something, but was interrupted when a rapid knocking could be heard on the door, looking back at his twin, the two men stared at each other, as if trying to figure out if the other had invited guests without telling the other, when neither of them explained they looked back to the door, where another set of hard knocks could be heard.

***

You’d gone to the first place that came to mind, walking hastily through the thick downpour, you’d headed down Diagon Alley, bee-lining towards the unmistakable facade of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

You had had the longest week imaginable, no, the longest five months. You’d lost your parents in the war, strike one, then you’d nearly gotten yourself recklessly killed in the battle of Hogwarts, spent two weeks recovering in st. Mungo’s where you’d done nothing more than mourn the loss of the classmates and friends you’d lost, strike two, then your best friends had slowly but surely drifted away from you, the twins who used to be inseparable from you had first gone days, then weeks, then months without even writing to you, and you, being buried in paperwork after the death of your parents had been to busy to try and contact them, strike three. And so it had continued, another horrible thing after another came raining down upon you, and now, what seemed like strike one thousand had hit you, you’d been booted from your childhood home, not that you’d expected to be able to keep it, as you had no job and little to no inheritance from your parents, but when you’d been given the two week notice you’d panicked, you’d taken all your most important belongings, contacted the ministry and told them they were free to sell the rest and bolted.

Was it a rational thing to do? No, but it had been a very long time since you’d been rational. Perhaps it was just because you were already swimming in a pool of self-loathing but the extreme rain that had hit you as you’d excited your, now former, home had felt like a teeny tiny strike one-thousand-and-one. So naturally, you were about as exhausted as a human could be when you reached the shop belonging to the two redheaded twins. You stopped outside the door leading up to the apartment. A small pang of uncertainty hit you; what exactly were you doing? You hadn’t spoken to either of them in what seemed like forever, maybe there was a reason for that? maybe they didn’t want to see you? Your hand, which had been outstretched towards the green door handle, fell to your side as a feeling of foolishness washed over you, rain trickled down your cheeks and nose as you stood in the darkness, unsure if you ever wanted to go inside, then a lightning struck down only twenty or so metres down the street from you, followed by a deafening bang. You shrieked in shock and quickly entered the hallway, bolting up the stairs in a cascade of murmured ‘nope’s. Screw if you hadn’t seen the twins in months, they had been your best friends since your fourth year and you needed their help, whether they knew it or not.

“besides,” You murmured to yourself as you reached the top of the stairs and stood outside the front door, “What kind of best friends don’t even write to ask how you are after your parents die?”

***

Fred and George approached the door with a sliver of uncertainty in their step,

“Who on earth comes knocking uninvited?” Fred asked in a low voice, beer still in his hand,

“Maybe it’s someone trying to break in?”

“Nonsense, why would a thief try to knock on the door before breaking in?”

“I read it in one of those articles mum send us, y’know, the one with the ten handy things to know about home security when you’re a first time owner?”

“Seriously, George, I’m starting to worry that you and Hermione may have switched bodies accidentally.”

And with that, Fred unlocked the door and swung it open, revealing an absolutely drenched Y/n. Blinking, the twins stared at their old friend without saying anything for a while. Y/n, too scared of how the twins might react, refrained from saying anything either,

“Y/n,” George started, his mouth slightly ajar in shock, “You look absolutely,”

“Frozen!” Fred finished his brother’s sentence and opened the door a bit more,

“Come in before you flood the stairway,” he said.

“Thanks,” Y/n said, stepping inside, dripping, “sorry,” she added, when she looked at the drops hitting the floor. Arms crossed, she stood there in the entrance, shivering and looking on the verge of tears, George felt a surge of empathy fill his insides, and as he caught his twin’s eyes he knew Fred felt the same,

“You just wait here a moment,” Fred said, placing a hand on your shoulder, “I’ll get you a towel.” He gave your shoulder a quick squeeze before he disappeared further into the flat. There was a small moment of silence between you and George,

“It’s uh- really good to see you,” George uttered finally, shifting his weight, “It’s been,” He haltered as he counted in his mind, embarrassed when he couldn’t place the last time he’d seen you face to face,

“Five months?” You said, teeth clappering, you couldn’t help but crack a small smile when his eyes widened but he didn’t get to say anymore because Fred returned, handing you a small towel, he stepped behind you and wrapped a larger towel around your shoulders,

“What are you doing here at this hour?” Fred asked, rubbing your arms to warm you up, the comforting touch from your best friend and thinking about your past few months you started to well up, and before you knew it you were bawling, explaining in between sobs about everything that had happened to you, the twins had shared a worried look as you broke into tears and had quickly moved to sit you down on their couch,

“Ah-and n-now I have no home, no jo-ob and no parents!” You sobbed, hiding your face with one hand, using the other hand to hold onto the towel,

“And my best-f-friends won’t even write to me anymo-mo-more!” You added, letting out another sob, Fred and George shared a rather guilty look,

“We’re really sorry Y/n,” George said, as you continued to cry, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear before placing his hand on your shoulder, Fred copied him: “Yeah, we’ve been a pair of right foul gits,” He said, something in his chest twisted uncomfortably as you didn’t answer, just made a small sound as you nodded, still hiding your face in your hand,

“But I promise that we didn’t think about it, we would’ve written to you, but it’s been so busy since we re-opened,” Fred tried,

“That’s n-not an excuse,” You said, wiping your face and meeting his chocolate coloured eyes, he took your hand, “I know that,” he said, you looked down, there was no point being angry,

“I know.”

Silence filled the flat, only the sound of rain hitting the windows and your sniffles could be heard.

“Listen, I’m really sorry to be bursting like this,” You started,

“Don’t worry about it,” George cut you off, “We’d much rather you burst in here, than stay out in the pouring rain, right Fred?” He said, looking at his twin, who nodded, “Absolutely, besides, letting you crash here is the least we can do, seeing as we’ve accidentally abandoned you,” He chuckled a little, and his laugh was contagious as always, you smiled a little,

“You don’t have any clothes I could borrow, do you?” you asked, “My clothes are still sort of,” You paused, “Wet.” You chuckled, Fred and George both grinned, “Say no more,” Fred said, standing up, George following suit, “Wait here!” George said before they both scattered into their rooms to find you some clothes to wear, picking out their warmest sweaters and softest sweatpants, whilst you sat there in their warm flat, the smell of food enrobing you, you noticed. Smiling to yourself, you thought to yourself how easy it was to talk to the twins even after months of silence.

#weasley twins #Fred Weasley #George Weasley #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins x reader #weasleys' wizard wheezes #fred lives #fight me #fred weasley lives #fluff

241 notes · View notes