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#been spending a lot of time w harry recently
cupid-styles · 2 months
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any concept for frat wolffry please 😍
omg frat alpha harry my baby🩷🩷 hmmm ok i imagine they recently finished their winter breaks and they’re back at school now and they’ve just been attached at the hip bc they were away from each other for a few weeks!!! so y/n’s been spending lots of nights at harry’s but he always prefers staying over at hers bc she only has one roommate as opposed to his frat house w a million ppl constantly there!! its also been very snowy and cold lately so harry meets her after all of her classes bc she never wants to wear a proper winter jacket or snow boots and he constantly worries that she’s gonna freeze or slip on ice on her way home lmao
tonight I think they’re having a cozy night at y/n’s place watching movies bc there’s a party at harry’s and they just wanna relax after a long week <3 they def fall asleep all snuggled up on the couch and every time harry wakes up he presses a kiss to her temple and calls her his sweet little omega girl <3
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bisexualshakespeare · 5 months
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Twenty questions for fic writers
thanks for the tag @lowkeyed1!
1. How many works do you have on AO3? 53 without my podfic only works
2. What's your total AO3 word count? 195,236
3. What fandoms do you write for? According to my front page, the fandoms I write the most for are Haven (7) Ted Lasso (6) Fandom - Fandom (6) Teen Wolf (5) Our Flag Means Death & Willow (4)
I'm fine with Haven being my number one but I'd like to bump Teen Wolf off there. My Willow fic will overtake it soon but I still need another fandom to push it off completely!
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
A Wedding of Errors - Teen Wolf, Allison/Lydia, Rated T - Wedding Planner AU and my first (and only?) Big Bang fic! It had beautiful at and I still follow the artist though it looks like the post got deleted in a blog rebrand or something.
Not a Rebound - Supergirl, Winn/James, Rated E - Post season 2 episode 1 smut I wrote to make myself feel better after they nerfed Kara/James for no reason! (we know the reason 😑)
No Time Like the Present - Young Justice, Jamie/Bart, Rated G - Short little future fic of Bart having a panic attack and Jamie helping him out. First time I wrote something and was like wow that was like writing writing!
Uninvited - Elementary, Gen Sherlock & Watson - pod together project I had to ask for a co-writer to help pinch hit this for me because I was struggling. It was strange to co-write, especially with a stranger, but it was interesting and the podficcers seemed to have fun!
ShapeShift - Teen Wolf, Stiles/Danny, Rated T - AU based on a Bollywood movie I found on Netflix and became obsessed with called Pyaar Impossible. Also a pod together project!
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Sometimes. I like that ao3 has the unread comments on your front page, so I like to keep them there so I can see them and smile at them when I'm scrolling through the suggested marked for later stuff. If someone has commented multiple times, I'll usually thank them on the most recent one rather than replying to all of them. Of course if someone asks a question I'll answer. Otherwise it depends on my mood.
6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I was gonna say I try not to leave fics on too an angsty note but then I remembered Garder le Silence my Harry Potter pod together that's an episode of Potterwatch during book 7. It's pretty moody all the way through.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably A Wedding of Errors. It's the only fic with an epilogue so you actually have a little time after the couple gets together. Hmm should I write more epilogues? 🤔
8. Do you get hate on fics? I got an angry comment on Wedding saying it was a bad f/f fic because I spend too much time on the side m/m/m love triangle. Honestly that was something I was worried about and if the person had just been disappointed, I would've understood but they were just mean so fuck em.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? a little! increasingly more so last month lol some light d/s, with a lot of silliness and communication
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? nah I don't love the idea of crossovers. Usually I'd rather have a full AU
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? i don't think so?
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! Wedding was translated into Russian in 2015, two years after I wrote it and the translator made a little banner for it!
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😭 it is so crazy to think someone thought about my fic so much they put it in another language! I am in awe of them. Umi no Iruka you can ask anything of me. You can throw me into battle like a pokemon. I am in your debt.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Just Uninvited!
14. What's your all-time favorite ship? Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku from My Hero Academia. I have never written a fic for them and I probably never will. It's a classic case of, if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. 🥺
15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? Hmm well I don't usually post anything unless I've finished it. I did start a series of fics for a glee rare pair but I am nOT going back to that. I have the last installment in my Winn gets fucked series like 90% done I literally just need them to fuck and I can post it. I have a couple Haven WIPs I probably won't go back to unless the hyperfixation comes back in a big way.
16. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue, calling back to things earlier in the fic, estimating the word count of a story, which I didn't think was a strength but lowkeyed said it was their weakness so i guess!
17. What are your writing weaknesses? Description of places blegh, coming up with events for people to do between plot points, describing how people move and gesture? I can see things so clearly in my head it's so hard to describe! it's like "and then they do the face they did in episode 6 where they were like hmnmm you know??" impossible! I should've become an artist!
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I would love to if I knew the language well enough but unfortunately I'm english only. I've thrown in a few lines sparingly but I think there's definitely some cool stuff that can happen if it's used right by someone who understands the language well.
19. First fandom you wrote for? I think Jimmy Neutron? I got into fandom young lol
20. Favorite fic you've written? Whatever I'm currently working on is my favorite! I love creating so much and I'm ecstatic imagining all the scenarios and tweaking them over and over and living in their heads and surprising myself when I come up with things I didn't plan! So by that measure my favorite is my unpublished Cyrano inspired romcom but if we're going published, I of course have to go with Multivocal, my heart ❤️ or perhaps A Familiar Sound, my soul! ✨
Tagging @secrets-of-luftnarp @lawlessferalgay @lichfucker @caseycassidy
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ptergwen · 3 years
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web of lies
take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.
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photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist
w/c: 7.1k
warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint
summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all
a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading
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to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.
a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.
he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.
“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”
your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.
that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.
“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”
“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”
“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”
“does anyone have an aspirin?”
welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.
although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.
you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.
thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.
mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.
harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.
there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.
last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.
you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.
peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.
the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.
“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.
ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.
“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.
“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.
mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.
“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.
as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?
“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”
uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.
“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.
“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.
“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”
what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.
it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.
quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.
you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.
“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.
it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.
grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.
you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.
“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.
“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.
“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“
“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”
you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.
the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.
you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.
“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.
“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.
“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.
biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.
then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.
“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”
“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.
“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.
confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.
mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.
peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.
“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.
“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.
“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”
after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.
you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.
it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.
you’ve never missed a deadline.
mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.
“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“
mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”
harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.
“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.
“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”
mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”
the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.
you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.
you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.
taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.
“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.
“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”
considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.
“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”
“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.
“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”
peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.
“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.
getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”
“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.
“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”
you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.
“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.
“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”
something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.
“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.
“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.
he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.
peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.
things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.
later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?
they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.
the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.
ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.
pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.
his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.
peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.
“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“
the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”
in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’
“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”
“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.
“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.
“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.
ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.
“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.
“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.
he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.
you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.
“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.
you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.
“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.
you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”
listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.
“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”
“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.
“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.
“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.
“what are you doing tonight?”
-
peter parker taglist
@saturnpeter @tpwk-grande @itstaskeen @missyouhollnd @becicamina @dummiesshort @zspideyy @watchitimreadinghere @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @dpaccione @karispotters11 @theofficialzivadavid @thehumanistsdiary @kelieah @aayaissaa @petersgroupie @annab-nana @tayyx @swtltlmrvlgrl @magicalxdaydream @haoluvver @kjune113 @captainamirica @marvel-dork98 @emmastarz @killingbxys @viriditie @misshale21 @veryholland @liliswifts @tommydarlings @rebelemilu @peterspideysense @cr-uelsummer @dreamy-clousds @quaksonhehe @quxxnxfhxll @blackbat2020 @babyblue19 @falconxbarnes @zachary-s @dirtytissuebox @dracoswhore007 @heavenlyholland @thsquad @etheralholland @dhtomholland @awh-lilies @tomshufflepuff @multifamdomfan12
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if i forgot you please lmk!
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long story short - f.w
title: long story short
pairing: fred x female slytherin reader
summary: fred has been in love with y/n since they were fifteen, but the universe was never really on their side. (idk i'm bad at writing summaries but basically best friends to lovers. this takes place during gof in the spring.) this is also vaguely inspired by "long story short" by taylor swift bc i'm obsessed w her (see if you can find the lyrics)
other characters/pairings mentioned: adrian pucey/y/n, fred/angelina, george weasley, harry potter, ron weasley, neville longbottom
content warnings: its all fluff, some parts can be construed as angsty?? maybe probably not. sad fred at some point. sad y/n at some point. fred and y/n are both clueless all the time for no reason.
a/n: i wrote this with my Head Empty, but I hope you enjoy (feedback welcomed) also this wasn't proof read so ignore any grammatical errors
“... right Fred?”
“Yeah that’s cool, whatever,” Fred grumbled as a very irritated George hit his side.
The pair were having breakfast at the Gryffindor table, and the two were supposed to be brainstorming shop ideas, but it was apparent that Fred’s mind was off somewhere else.
Regardless of how hard he tried, Fred’s mind was often clouded with his feelings about Y/N. The two had been best friends since third year, and it took him a long time to realize that he wanted to be much more than just her best friend. But just as expected, right as Fred realized, Y/N had gotten into a relationship.
“Dude, Y/N is with Adrian now, you need to get over it,” George said. While he did feel bad for his twin, there wasn’t much that either of them could do about it.
Fred nodded, but just as he was about to respond to his brother, he noticed a flustered Y/N get up from the Slytherin table. In all honesty, if Fred hadn’t been staring at her he wouldn’t have noticed how distraught she was. Without another thought, the ginger boy got up from his seat and followed her into the corridor.
“Y/N, wait up!” Fred called out, not quite sure what he was going to say to her. The Slytherin girl slowed down, waiting for her friend to catch up.
When it came to his and Y/N’s relationship, there wasn’t a lot they wouldn’t talk about, but Y/N’s relationship with Adrian was a conversation that was often avoided. Y/N knew how Fred felt about Adrian, so she made an effort to keep the two as separate portions of her life.
“Hi, Fred,” Y/N’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes glossy.
Fred winced. Up until she had started dating Adrian, Y/N always called Fred by his nickname. When Y/N started dating Adrian she pulled away from Fred quickly. He could tell she tried to make everything seem normal, but it wasn’t.
“Is everything alright? You walked out of the Great Hall a bit fast.” Fred said. The pair were now sitting on a bench in the courtyard.
“Just… some stuff with Adrian.” Y/N said, knowing that there was no way that Fred would allow her to leave it at that. There was an ever growing vendetta that Fred had against Adrian, and him hurting Y/N would probably be the worst thing that the Slytherin could do.
“Listen, I know I’m not Adrian’s number one fan, but I’m still your best friend.” Fred said, hoping that Y/N would talk to him. It had been months since the two had chatted about anything of substance and he feared their friendship would fall apart if they kept avoiding each other.
Y/N went silent for a moment, weighing her options in her head. After a short while she looked at Fred and started, “Have you ever been in love?”
The question completely caught Fred off guard. He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected Y/N to say, but that wasn’t a question he was prepared to think about.
Sure, Fred had dated around during his time at Hogwarts, but the only person he had ever really loved was Y/N. It wasn’t something he had ever wanted to talk about with her, particularly because he didn’t know how great he would be at concealing his emotions. How terrible would it be for him to confess it to her while she was in a relationship?
Fred nodded, “Yeah, I’ve been in love before.”
“How did you know? What did it feel like?” Y/N asked, looking genuinely curious. Was Y/N truly asking him about this?
Fred looked at her incredulously, speaking once more, “Honestly, love, I think it's different for everyone,” The look on Y/N’s face was unreadable as Fred continued, “for me, I just knew.”
Y/N let out a deep sigh, “I feel like it’s all moving too fast.” There she goes again without any elaboration.
As Fred continued to give her terse answers, Y/N decided she had to describe what she meant. She had never really been great at putting her feelings into words, but she’d try.
“Adrian told me he loved me last night,” Fred’s face faltered, “and I didn’t say a word back.”
Fred wasn’t shocked by the idea that Adrian loved Y/N. The pair had been together for nearly five months, and Fred knew from experience how easy it was to fall in love with Y/N. If anything, it was more of a shock to him that Y/N didn’t say it back.
“But you do love him, right?” Once again, Fred hoped that Y/N would say what he wanted to hear. It was cruel of him to wish that Adrian and Y/N wouldn’t work out, but he couldn’t help it.
“I do,” Dammit. Y/N continued, “but I don’t think I’m in love with him. You know?”
Fred understood completely. He had loved a few of the girls he had dated, but he never felt in love. There was always some sort of hesitation that he had.
“I... just feel like I’m trying to force something that isn’t there,” The frustration was evident in Y/N’s voice. “And I thought that maybe I just needed more time, maybe we were moving too fast, but honestly I just can’t feel the way that I want to about Adrian.”
“Do you think there’s a reason why you can’t love him? You wouldn’t stop talking about him during Christmas break.” Fred said, recalling Y/N’s happiness after Adrian had asked her to the Yule Ball.
“What do you mean? I don’t think I acted any differently about Adrian during break.” Y/N was confused. If anything, Fred was the one who had acted strangely during Christmas break.
“No, I definitely recall you acting funny,” Fred said as Y/N shot him a glare.”You ignored me for two weeks Y/N.” Y/N frowned, shaking her head.
Fred remembered the two weeks in vivid detail. Up until six months ago, Fred and Y/N were attached at the hip. That’s why Y/N’s sudden absence in his life stung. In some way it felt like Y/N had picked Adrian over Fred, but he didn’t know why.
“Fred, I did ignore you, but do you really not know why?” Y/N said.
Once more, Fred tried to remember the events leading up to Y/N and Adrian’s relationship, but everything seemed normal. Adrian and Y/N had always been friends. It wasn’t strange for friends to date.
Fred shook his head, prompting Y/N to tell him what had happened.
-
It was a week before the Yule Ball, and the cheeriness around the castle was gleaming. The Great Hall was decked out with garlands of tinsel. Mistletoe was hanging in all of the corridors. It was nearly impossible to be unhappy with how much light was around., but as Y/N had watched what felt like the fiftieth person get asked to the Yule Ball, she was feeling less than cheerful.
“Y/N!” Fred greeted, earning an adoring smile from the girl in front of him. She was sitting in the Gryffindor common room, as she had just been working on an herbology project with Neville.
“Hiya, Freddie, what’s up?” Y/N was excited. She and Fred had been spending a lot more time together recently, and she was convinced that he was going to finally ask her out.
Fred smiled, “I need advice. ” Y/N nodded, encouraging the ginger boy to continue, “if you were to get asked to say, a ball, how would you want to be asked?”
Y/N was practically exploding with joy at this point, but alas, Fred still needed an answer.
“Well, for me personally, I’m not fond of the huge gestures. I feel like if you really like someone then you should just… ask? I know that’s a bit boring, but I wouldn’t want everyone to be involved in my business, so public gestures aren’t for me.” Y/N was getting rambly, a clear sign of her nerves.
Before Y/N could ramble anymore, Fred was marching up the dormitory stairs, calling out a short, “Thanks, Y/N!” over his shoulder.
Although Fred’s behavior was strange, Y/N brushed it off as Fred being, well, Fred. The boy often did things that were unexplainable. It wasn’t until dinner that day that Y/N had realized why Fred had asked her about the ball.
-
“Y/N, c’mon what’s on your mind?” Adrian asked, poking his friend in the side. Y/N was staring down her plate, pushing around peas with her fork. After her encounter with Fred earlier in the day, she had been on edge. The ball was coming up quick, and at this point it was now or never.
“It’s nothing important, don’t worry about me.” Y/N had finally put her fork down, flashing a sad smile at the boy. Adrian looked suspicious, but as he opened his mouth to talk, the pair noticed commotion at the Gryffindor table.
George was ruffling Fred’s hair, and Ron and Harry were laughing. Fred had a smirk on his face, his cheeks tinged a pink color. Just as Y/N was about to approach Fred to ask what the deal was, Fred walked out of the dining hall.
“I’ll be right back,” Y/N told Adrian, before walking to the Gryffindor table to ask George about what was up.
“Hey, George, what was that all about?” Y/N asked as she sat.
“Oh, Freddie boy just asked Angelina to the Yule Ball!” George replied, causing the two other boys to start to laugh again.
Y/N muttered a “thanks” to George before heading out of the Great Hall. She nearly sprinted to the Slytherin common room, not wanting to have a meltdown in the middle of the hall. Y/N was convinced that Fred would ask her to the ball, and it stung like hell to know that he had asked someone that wasn’t her.
When she arrived outside the common room, Adrian was waiting outside for her. Without any question, Adrian outstretched his arms, embracing the teary-eyed girl.
-
“You wanted me to ask you to the ball!?” Fred asked, mentally slapping himself for being so clueless.
Y/N nodded her head yes, clasping her hands together. She thought she had been very obvious about how she felt about Fred, but it was clear he truly didn’t know.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, I never meant to make you upset. Angie and I went as friends anyway.” Fred apologized. He hated seeing Y/N cry, and to think that he was the reason made his insides churn.
While Y/N had cleared up her pre-Yule Ball behavior, there were still a few questions that Fred had.
“Okay, but what does any of that have to do with Adrian? If you wanted me to ask you out, why did you start dating Adrian?” Fred asked, despite knowing how forward all of those questions were.
Y/N sighed, this wasn’t the part of the story that she was particularly proud of.
“Other than you and George, Adrian is probably my closest guy friend. After I heard about you and Angie, Adrian was the person who comforted me while I was crying. I think somewhere along the lines I got my feelings for him all confused…” Y/N trailed off.
“Adrian was sort of an escape from everything. I thought that if you were dating Angie it would stop whatever friendship we had going. It felt like I got knocked off of some weird pedestal.” Y/N’s explanation made some sense, but it didn’t explain why she wouldn’t just talk to him.
“Why didn’t you just talk to me, Y/N? We’re best friends.”
Y/N let out a soft laugh, “I sort of went down a rabbit hole when I stopped talking to you. I was embarrassed, and Adrian was sweet. But after it all, I think I was trying to emulate whatever feelings I had for you with him. I thought clinging to another person would stop my feelings. Clearly it didn’t work. It was just a bad time.”
From what Y/N was saying, Fred was hoping that this meant something for the two of them. But right now, Y/N was still with Adrian, and neither of them would ever do that to them.
“Y/N, you need to tell Adrian how you feel.” If the two were going to date, it had to be proper. Fred didn’t want to be some sort of secret.
“I did, that’s why I ran off actually. We broke it off yesterday, it was just a lot for me to be sitting with him today…” Y/N was slightly embarrassed.
“There goes your excellent communication skills again, why didn’t you start with that?” Fred teased, earning a groan from Y/N.
“Hey, the knife cuts both ways. If you had just said that you were asking Angie to the ball I would have never gotten my hopes up!” Y/N quipped back, intertwining her hands with Fred’s.
Fred sighed happily, “Is there any chance that you still feel the same way about me?” Fred was sure he knew what she’d say, but this situation had proved the two needed to talk more.
Y/N laughed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m all about you, Freddie.”
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xavadak3davrax · 3 years
Text
A little check in on Lawyer! George
Warnings: Smut (18+) pussy slapping, sir kink, just porn with little to no plot (?).
a/n: Sorry I haven’t posted anything but mental health sucks sometimes and mine as been in pieces. This a little check in on Lawyer George. Also for anyone reading I will probably write other stuff that is not Fred or George. But doesn’t belong in the harry potter world. I’m very into Loki and bucky and steve rogers from the mcu world so yeah :) i will keep doing stuff for them to. just adding a little bit of spice. Also sorry for any mistakes! 
This is based on this story. 
In a lifetime, a lot of things can happen. y/n just never thought that for her it would be the fact that she’s dating one of the most successful lawyers England has ever seen, or that she would sleep with him, spend so much time at his apartment that it’s also now kinda of hers…
But it happened to her. And it wasn’t easy. Although they had Fred’s approval, when word got around in the office, things got hard for her. The gossip became harsh and eventually some people who worked closely with y/n turned on her because ‘she was sleeping with her boss’. It took her a while to grasp her new reality, but the truth was, she was head over heels for the ginger boy, and if people around her couldn’t understand they were in love, then let them be. If there was someone who was good at separating work from relations was her. After their heated encounter in Fred’s office, it never happened again in the work place. There were times where it was close calls, but it was all George’s fault given his cock was hard twenty for seven, given he had to look at the woman he loved work hard, and effectively and honestly that was a big turn on for him.
But y/n always stopped before it could get any more heated. Always excusing herself with a ‘I’m sorry sir’ and then turning around to go on her way, shamefully hiding her smirk from her boss, who had to stand in the middle of whatever place they were in, hard, and sweaty from their heated make out session.
George never quit trying tho. Even in the days y/n came to the office from his home, and they probably had some time together that morning, he just couldn’t get enough of her.
“y/n, thank you. Would mind just reminding George of the meeting we have in ten? He’s been a little lost today.” Fred said, looked at y/n for a mere moment to take the documents she was giving him and then looked at his work again. Cases had been flooding non stop ever since they had win one of the biggest cases ever. y/n, now a permanent lawyer at the firm was more than happy about it.
She smirked a little, taken the fact that Fred wasn’t looking then turned to walk to the door.
“Sure boss.” She joked, hearing Fred groan at the name. Then, as smoothly as she could went to George’s office, knocked on the door, and didn’t even expect an answer before barging in.
Only to catch her boyfriends with a hand on top of his pants massaging his hard cock. She then had confirmation that the outfit she chose did do it’s wonders. She always wore suits, but usually the blouses she wore underneath were work appropriate, but recently and after talking to a friend outside work she thought she would change a bit, make it a little harder on him. After all, she’d taken notice how much more intense their sexual encounters would be. Today with her suit she chose a lace black body, it was still work appropriate, specially in the way she did her suit jacket, but George had definitely seen it this morning when it was not so appropriate.
“See your brothers right, then.” She closed the door behind her, and rested her body against it with her hands behind her back, looking at George, with his head back, and his hand almost squeezing his cock had hard as he could.
“Baby.” He sighed loudly, his head turning to look at her his hand still in the same place. “You look…” he couldn’t finish is thought, she was consuming everything in him. His thoughts, and now his scent given she was just a few meters away. “Please help me.”
“You know I won’t baby, but you can always help yourself.” She smiled, walking closer to his desk and leaning on the other side of it, her breasts came into better view.
George had always understood why she didn’t want to it, but today when she had chosen this outfit out of all the others he couldn’t help but get more frustrated.
“You can’t do this to me y/n you know that.” Dominance had taken over his voice a little bit more. He took his hand out of his cock, and then got up. She stiffened, turning her head to the side to see him come up to her. His hands came on either side of her arms and squeezed. “Walking around in that lacy body, no bra, unbuttoning it only when I’m around, knowing people around here know about us. You know what you’re doing, and yet...” he came closer, his breathing in her neck, she shivered. “yet you still don’t let me take you.” He kissed her just on the spot he knew she liked. “Right here baby, on my office, in my desk, I’ll make it quick, you know it.” His voice was raspy, filled with list.
y/n was close to loosing it, her voice already trembling. “F-fred said you have a meeting in ten. He a-asked me to w-warn you.” Her hands that supported her body on the tip of the desk turned white from the force she was putting on them.
“Great then, I have ten minutes to make us both cum baby, do you think I can do it?” One of his hands came to unbutton her jacket and then came down a little bit more and stopped at her pants, asking for permission.
In that moment y/n knew she couldn’t hide it. It had been always hard to deny him in the work place. It had been so good when they did it the first time, she had just gotten so paranoid with everyone else, to think about how good they both had felt.
“Please, sir.” She murmured, body coming to meet his. George took the hand close to her pants and forced her body down against the desk. Their back turned to the door, that was unlocked.
“You will stay like this, and you will take my cock and make no sound, understood baby?” he whispered raspy. “Can’t have some noise asshole coming in here seeing the way I’m ruining you.”
“Yes, sir.” y/n’s hands had come up to rest next to her head. George took no time and undoing her pants pulling her underwear down, while also taking a look at the wet spot they had.
“How long have you been wet?” He asked, she didn’t answers right way, the coolness of the air of the office hitting her wet, hot pussy was to much for in such a vulnerable state. He slapped her pussy, not hard, just enough and the way she liked it to have her body squirm beneath him. “I said, how long had this pussy been wet?” he had to control the tone in his voice to not become so loud that anyone passing outside the door could hear.
“Since this morning, sir.” She murmured.
He laughed, jokingly at her. “This morning? You pathetic little baby, wet since this morning? And what made you wet ahm?”
“You sir, wet from the shower.” She said above a whisper, her pussy so wet her juices were starting to cover her pussy lips and coming down her inner thigh. George brings his hand again close to her pussy and plays with her clit, thumbing around it, playing with it before giving it a slight pinch making her moan. He slaps it again, but not hard, just as a waring.
“I said, be quiet.” He heard her little ‘sorry sir’ and then continued the assault on her pussy. Two of his fingers circling her wet entrance before thrusting in hard, brushing her g-spot making y/n bite her knuckles to contain her moans. George’s fingers had always stretched y/n out the best way possible, and they were long enough to hit the spots only her vibrator could, but never her own little fingers. George always teased her about it.
George twists his fingers in just the right way to caress her velvety walls in the way he knows she likes, and then scissors his fingers inside her making her knees buckle and shake.
“S-sir please.” She murmured.
“Baby, so little time and so many things I wanna do to you. I always do you know it don’t you?” She nodded. “You always love my fingers, you always love to fuck yourself on them. You love to suck on them like you suck on your favorite lollie… my cock.” She clenched hard on his fingers from his dirty words and George let out a small moan at the feeling. “And I always have to stretch you baby, you are always just the snuggest little thing ever. Always.” He had been avoiding with his fingers her g-spot, just to make her more needier for him, but this times he hits continuously, make y/n have to hold her moans by biting hard on her lip. Her pussy spasmed around his fingers warning him of her orgasm. He pulls out, his fingers covered in her juices, and spreads it around her pussy, bringing them to his mouth to taste her.
“Always taste the best dirty girl.” He smirks, and then brings his hands to undo the belt of his pants pulling it down, along with his boxers making his cock spring free. His cock had been hard since he entered the office this morning minutes after his girlfriend, and so by now and after having his finger in her pussy, he his licking from his tip, he his read and swollen and twitching from the pleasure.
He rests one hand on her back to keep her in that position while the other comes to his cock, strokes it two times before bringing it close to her pussy and thrusting inside her. Her pussy engulfs his cock, tightens around him as he sinks himself as deep inside her as he can. He thrusts into her over and over again, his cock being hugged by her smooth and velvety skin makes him groan lowly, the hand on her back dents her skin there because he also has to be quiet and it’s hard when she feels so good.
“Just, the dirtiest pussy, baby.” He whispers, the sound of his balls hitting her filled pussy it’s all that can be heard in the office and for a moment she’s scared people outside can hear it. But George’s dirty words and his movements take that thought way just as quickly as it came. Her hips push back to meet his making him bottom out on her, and he stops for a moment, and so does she, both trying to remain calm and quiet but he’s completely inside her and it feels too good for both of them.
“Please, George, fuck me, hard.” She tries t say it quietly but her voice breaks around moans.
He doesn’t answer and just gains his force again to keep fucking his cock in her soaked pussy, that’s so wet squelching sounds can start to be heard.
“You are so close baby.” He says, his hand coming to gather at her head forcing it down on the table. “Squeezing me nice and tightly like you can, letting me know I’m owning this pussy just right.”
And that’s when y/n explodes around him, she tightens so much that she pushes his cock out of her, her body quivers all over and the tips of her fingers tremble form the orgasm, trying to hold onto to something. George forces his cock back inside, chasing his own orgasm that’s even closer now that he just saw his girl cum the way she did. He doesn’t need much time, just the right movements and the squeezing of her pussy and he’s emptying himself inside her. y/n almost cuming again from how intense and hot his orgasm is. And how he groans close to her ear, her name, and the pet names he as reserved to her.
He pulls out, cock now soft and all wet from her juices and his cum, her pussy ruined but fulfilled and smiles on both his faces.
“What were you scared of exactly?” He asks after a while trying to regain his composure.
It takes a bit longer for /n to come back from the place she was in. She was still laying on his desk and George had to bring her up carefully, he kissed her jaw and then slowly turned her to him. She was ruined and he would have been worried were it not for the smile on her face.
“I love you.” That’s all her brain could master. More words than that was hard, and after anything they did y/n always felt immense love for the man in front of her.
“I’m taking that as a ‘we’re doing it again’ no?” he said, smugness evident in his voice. With the force she had she slapped his chest.
“Yes.” She murmured resting her head on his chest. “And you’re late to the meeting, lucky Fred didn’t barge in here or anyone else and saw what we were doing.”
“You mean, me fucking the life out of this pussy and claiming it as mine?”
“George, you’re disgusting.” She said, but they both knew she was playing.
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wizkiddx · 3 years
Note
Not sure if you are taking request at all but if you do, do you mind writing something about Harry agreeing to be the birth photographer at the birth of his niece (tom and reader’s daughter) 🥺🤍
this was so interesting!! personally I am way too self conscious to have a photographer when I *eventually* have a kid aha, but I hope this is what u were looking for x x p.s. coming at my brand w the white hearts :)
tomholland x reader
summary: harry gets terrified by toms request about the birth of his child, but the reader smoothes it over
Having just had a round of golf with Harry, Tom invited him back to yours for a cuppa and a catch up too. After all the years of living and travelling with Harry by his side, Harry in particular was massively important to TOm. Especially since he’d moved in with you, Tom constantly made a super special effort to spend as much time with him as possible. Harry had a key and had no quam with letting himself in uninvited. Though since he had walked in at *the wrong time* a bit too frequently, and then the announcement of your pregnancy - he had cut down the unexpected visits.
“So, I actually wanted to ask you something.”
“This does not sound good” Harry furrowed his eyebrows together, looking suspiciously at his brother as he poured the kettle into the two matching ‘Brothers Trust’ mugs.
“Since when? I only ever ask you to do good things?”
“We both absolutely know that is not true.” Harry deadpanned, pointing to the palm of his right hand which carried a large scar. Scar in question had been sustained during one of Tom’s incredibly ‘good’ aka stupid ideas.
“Right fair… I’ll allow that.” He receeded, placing the two mugs onto the counter in front of Harry. All it took was one look at the pale brown colour for Harry to turn his nose up, shooting Tom a look as though he’d just murdered a puppy. The elder of the two sighed, knowing exactly what his brothers snobbiness was about.
“Seriously?”
“It’s not your fault your awful at this, some people just aren’t born with it.” With a sarky pat on the back Harry rounded the counter, pouring the freshly brewed but slightly too milky tea down the drain - before flicking the kettle on to make his own brew… properly this time.
Tom knew his brother well enough to know not to argue or protest, instead perching on the counter as he watched Harry work his ‘magic’.
“But seriously me and Y/n have been talking about the birth cos you know, it’s not too far away now.” This was true, you were now only 3 weeks from your due date - but going by the size of you, you were ready to pop. Quite literally, you didn't know how much longer you could last.
“I’d be concerned if you weren’t mate.”
“Well yeh and I basically um …  had the idea to get a photographer for the birth right? It’s quite an American thing but I don’t want to forget anything and I’m sure it’s gonna be magical.” In response, Harry slowly turned around, empty mug in hand and eyes fierce.
“Are you fucking stupid?!”
To be fair to Harry, that had pretty much been your reaction when Tom first suggested it - word for word. He’d got the idea from one of the crew he’d filmed his most recent projects with, the guy had been raving about how beautiful it was and once he’d shown the pictures to Tom - he had to agree. Eventually Tom had worn you down to it and actually the idea of being able to save the moment you met your kid for the first time didn’t sound too bad. You had firmly set the boundaries of no photos of your ‘labour face’ and absolutely nothing from the ‘other end of the bed.’
The worry for both of you, as it always was given Tom’s reputation, was privacy. Especially the birth of your child, having a stranger there had you straight refusing, even a friend seemed still a little invasive. It was only when Tom had remembered he had a brother (who you were also incredibly close to) who was handy with a camera. Even if he had no experience with this particular type of photography, Harry was a pretty safe pair of hands for a camera in any situation. God knows he’s had enough practice at it.
“No hear me out, Y/n agreed too-“
“Of course this was your idea! So she’s totally fine with me staring at her fanny through a camera lens?”
“Harry” That was a warning tone, which the frizzy haired boy chose to completely ignore.
“No I-I mean, you want me to stare at your finances bits? Isn’t that some sort of weird incsest?”
“Shut the fuck up about Y/n’s body. You OBVIOUSLY wouldn’t be taking photos of that end, more like when the baby gets handed to us you know?”
“When its covered in gunk that came out of Y/n?”
“I’m pretty sure they clean it-“
“Not properly!”
Thankfully perhaps, the conversation was interrupted by the kettle clicking off, the water coming to a boil. With a huff Harry turned round, pouring and then stirring the tea as Tom watched his back from a distance. Neither spoke till after Harry finished, returning the milk to the fridge and then leaning against the counter top.
“Look I get it if you dont want to but your the only one Y/n trusts to do it and it means a lot to me.”
“Y/n wants me to stare at her fanny?!”
“No calm down you div. But you are the only one she trusts to be in the room when our first child is born. Will you just think about it?”
Harry opened his mouth to reply, probably protest, but before he could the front door opened and you called through the house.
“Tom? I’m home!” And becasue the boy was whipped he instantly trotted to the front door giving you a peck on your lips. He murmured to you that Harry was there, his lips moving against yours and you nodded with a small smile. You knew, instantly, that Tom in all his idiocy hadn’t handled it well.
“Would you mind getting all the shopping from car? Pregnant and all, so I’m not allowed to lift a finger.” You cocked your head, laughing as he rolled his eyes with a nod.
“I’m excited for when you can't play that card.”
“But then I’ll be the women who pushed a baby out for you… the mother of your child.”  Winking, you then quickly moved through the house before he could protest, just knowing he was pulling a pouty face as he watched you sway away.
Once in the kitchen you saw Harry nursing his mug like it was the last drink on earth, hunched over it from where he was sitting on a stool on the breakfast bar.
“ You lose at golf?” Opening the conversation, Harry instantly shot his head up, looking slightly terrified to see you.
“Wha- no, no I didn’t actually.”
“Tom asked you huh?” He nodded, seemingly not wanting to commit with words. “I had exactly the same face when he first told me. It’s weird right?”
“Yeh no shit.”
“He’s really keen on it though, I mean he’s like an excited puppy about the whole birth.”
“But you want it too?”
“Sort of. What I do want is for him to be happy though. And I’m fairly certain he’s gonna be terrified throughout the whole birth while I won’t be in a position to help himl.”
“You’ll probably have other stuff on your mind to be fair.” You laughed, at that, nodding in agreement with him.
“Just a little. I did think though, who is a person who I can trust to look after him too during that... and even I draw a line at your dad… Look if you don't want to, I totally get it and I can’t promise that I won’t be screaming at you during if you do. But it would comfort me to know you were there, with or without the bloody camera.”
“Seriously?” Rather than exclaiming it, Harry whispered in shock, not expecting this sort of a revelation.
“Course H! You're my little brother too.”
“I might pass out.”
“So will your brother, at least he won’t be on his own then.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Thnakyouthankyouthankyou!” You squealed, running over to hug him from the back, arms round his shoulders as he squirmed on the stool.
It was at this point Tom walked back in after unloading the ridiculous amount of baby clothes shopping you had done. Big strong Tom had to take 2 trips up and down the stairs to the nursery. Of course, all it took was a few words from you and Harry was falling at your feat. He was hardly surprised. Annoyingly you seemed to have this power over all the Hollands. They never stood a chance.
It wasn’t till later than evening, long since Harry had left and the dishwasher had been put on after Tom had made a mess cooking you dinner. Only then did your phone ping with a text message from Sam.
Sam H
‘I dont know what you’ve done to Harry but I’m scared, he’s binge watching one born every minute.’
Immediately you cracked up, knowing that it was his nervous energy and need to ‘be prepared’. Tom, who was lying behind you on the sofa whilst his hands caressing your stomach, jerked his head up intrigued as the what the ‘ding’ was. You showed him and he snorted in laughter too, whilst nuzzling his nose into your neck.
“How did you bring him round by the way?”
“Oh you know, I’ve got all of you wrapped round my little finger when I want.”
“That you do… do you think I should be worried?”
“Nah your just all softies.” Laughing softly, you pulled his arms tighter around you, wiggling back into him a bit more.”
“You didn’t tell him about the godparent thing though?”
“Course not… we can give him a separate heart attack about that.”
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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years
Text
Close Quarters//F.W.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language, sexual references, partial nudity, like one paragraph of brief smut but no details, mentions of food, accidentally getting lit on fire (oopsie spoiler), angst, rude Fred
Summary: What happens when George moves out, leaving Fred to live with the one person he despises the most? Chaos, that’s what happens. 
Prompts: Roommates and Enemies to Lovers with the prompts “I can’t believe you talked me into this.” “This is the opposite of what I told you to do.” and “You can’t banish me! This is my apartment too!”
Word Count: 9k
A/N: This is for @theweasleyslut’s birthday celebration writing challenge, happy birthday love !! And also the first fic in Abby’s Week of Weasley, enjoy!
~Abby’s Week of Weasley Masterlist~ ~Masterlist~
As Fred Weasley sealed up the last box with an excess amount of tape, he took a second to step back and take in his surroundings. It was the same old loft he had lived in for the past 4 years. There was the couch and armchairs positioned around a coffee table, the Muggle guitar propped up on its stand in the corner, the many pictures of his family scattered around the open space. It was controlled chaos, and to him it was beautiful. But it was all changing, and much too soon for his liking. 
“Thanks for the help Freddie,” called his twin George from the other room. The tall ginger haired boy who had just spoken joined his slightly older brother in the main part of the loft, carrying a box filled with books he had collected over the years. “It really means a lot, Angie got pulled away for work so I know she’d appreciate it.”
Fred nodded and gave his brother a small smile. “Of course Georgie, anything else I can do?”
George took a look around the room. By the door were piles of dozens of boxes, all filled to the brim with George’s clothes and knick knacks. He sighed and scratched the back of his head, a deep sadness overtaking his features. 
“No, I think we’re alright,” he said. “Just need to get these to my new place and we should be all set.”
Fred let out a deep sigh and looked at his brother. They stared at each other for a few short seconds before dropping everything in their hands and wrapping their arms around each other. 
“Do you really have to go?” Fred whispered softly. It was so unlike him to be quiet, and even more unlike him to be nervous and shy. But watching his brother, who he had lived with for 22 years, finally leave and get his own place broke him. “It’s always been us, George, you and me, the Weasley twins. I can’t imagine living without you.”
George squeezed his twin even tighter, a loose tear falling from eye. “It’s not like I’m leaving you, me and Angelina will be just a Floo Network trip away. And you can’t expect her to stay here forever and be forced to live with you as well.”
Fred scoffed and let out a breathy chuckle. “What do you mean, she’s loved staying with us! The second she moved in with you she told me that she couldn’t imagine anything better than living with her lover and his twin brother who’s always around.”
“She was being sarcastic mate, she can only handle one twin at a time and unfortunately for you that twin is me.” George released his brother and quickly wiped his eyes, noticing Fred doing the same thing. 
“Whatever,” Fred replied, “it was getting annoying not being able to walk around freely in my own place without having to see you two shagging on every piece of furniture.”
“Not my fault she can’t resist my charms,” he said, giving his infamous Weasley smirk. “Maybe with us gone you’ll be able to finally find a girl.”
“I think I should focus on getting a roommate first,” he said, plopping down on the couch. “You know I can’t live alone. Remember before Angelina moved in and you stayed at her place for the night--”
“And you showed up at Ginny and Harry’s and crawled into bed with them because you were scared? Yeah, no one in the family’s gonna let you forget that anytime soon.” Fred shoved his brother and crossed his arms, sinking deeper into the cushions. 
“Sod off, you never know what could be lurking in the dark.” 
George laughed and joined his brother, kicking his feet onto the coffee table. “You know,” he began, mischief gleaming in his eyes, “I do think I have an answer to your roommate problem.”
“Really?” Fred asked, shooting up. The less time he had to spend alone at night, and alone in general, the better. 
“Yeah,” said George, “I ran into one of my old friends from school and turns out they’re looking for a place to stay and maybe earn some extra money. I was thinking that maybe, since you’ve got the space and we need some help in the shop anyway, they could take the other room and work downstairs on the weekends.”
Fred looked quizzically at his double, trying to read his intentions. “And who, pray tell, might this friend be?”
George just smirked and went to collect the rest of the boxes. “That, dear brother, is a surprise.”
------------------------------
You made your way down the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley, a place you had more recently been finding yourself. Work at the Ministry had been tiring, especially your first few years. But ever since the war ended and everything began to quiet down, you’d had some more free time to finally take in the world around you. 
It stood out like a sore thumb. The bright and gleaming storefront with an animatronic face looking down at you. You had never visited Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes before, always nervous about running into a certain redhead and falling back into the same argumentative habits you’d had at Hogwarts. Fred had always made it his goal to make your life a living hell, and you couldn’t lie, you did the same to him. But after having lunch with George a few days ago and suddenly receiving a letter to come and visit him at his shop, you decided that it was finally time to see the inside of Diagon Alley’s most booming business. 
The doorbell jingled as you walked in, catching the attention of your friend behind the counter. 
“Y/N!” George cried. He hopped over the register, knocking a few things down from shelves, before pulling you into a hug. 
“Hey George! So, this is the place, huh?” The inside was even more spectacular than the outside. The walls were lined with products from end to end, some of them you recognized from the twins’ testing at Hogwarts and others were completely new. An animatronic doll of Umbridge was riding across a rope close to the ceiling, making you laugh and remembering the horrors of your 7th year when the pink nightmare was in charge. 
“This is it!” George had his arm around your shoulder as he showed you around, pointing out different products and trying desperately to sell you one of their love potions, knowing exactly how single you were. 
“This is incredible, George, I can’t believe you guys actually did it.”
“You doubted us? And I thought we were friends!” He clutched his heart and doubled over, accidentally stumbling into a display and making all of the products crashing down. 
“Oi, George what are you doing down there?” You froze at the voice, one you hadn’t heard in years and one that you weren’t too keen on hearing any time soon. Fred appeared on the steps, wearing a dapper purple and orange suit, his hair slightly ruffled. The grin on his face disappeared when he made eye contact with you, being replaced with a scowl. “What’s she doing here?”
“Nice to see you too, Weasley.” You smiled at him, a fake mocking smile that made his blood boil, and how you loved getting under his skin. 
“George,” he said, acting as though you weren’t even in the room. 
The man in question shifted from foot to foot, fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket. “Well, uh, you see…”
“George sent me a letter the other day,” you interrupted. “Said that he had a proposition that he wanted to talk about and asked if I could come in today.”
Realization dawned on Fred and his eyes grew wide. “Oh no, George are you serious? She was the one you were talking about?”
You furrowed your brow in both confusion at the situation and anger at Fred, who had made you upset in record time today. “Talking about what? All I know is that he wanted to ask me something and I agreed to meet with him.” You turned to face the other twin. “What’s going on?”
“Ok, both of you calm down,” he said, hands up in defense. “Let me explain. Y/N, you know how you said you really needed a place to stay, as well as somewhere to work part time?”
It took you a couple of seconds, but you then understood what he was insinuating. “No. There’s no way, how am I supposed to live with you two when he’s going to be an annoying prat every second?”
“You’re not the most lovable person yourself, darling,” Fred sneered. “And besides, you wouldn’t be living with us. George moved out to get an apartment with Angelina. You’d be living with only me.”
Without a second thought you turned around and started toward the exit. “Well, I appreciate the offer George and it was great to catch up, hopefully next time I see you I won’t be bothered by your other half.”
“Y/N wait!” George cried, catching up to you and grabbing your wrist. “Listen, I know these aren’t the most...ideal conditions for you--”
“Same goes for me!” Fred called from the stairs. 
George sighed heavily, rubbing his temple in frustration. “Y/N, I’ve missed you over the past few years. I know that you and Fred don’t exactly get along.”
“That’s the understatement of the century,” you said through gritted teeth. “He’s annoying, cocky, inconsiderate, and--”
“And he’s my brother,” said George. “He’s a good person, and for whatever reason you two decided to hate each other, I can promise that the Fred you think you know is nothing like the real one.”
You paused your struggle against his arm and decided to let him continue on. 
“Let’s be real here. You need a place to stay and rent for most places in Diagon Alley is insane. If you stay here you get a nice bedroom, a cozy living room, a great view of London from the roof, and a low rate for rent. You can even work down here on the weekends to get the extra money you need. The only thing you need to do is be civil with Fred, that’s all.”
“That’s a lot more difficult than it sounds when someone’s as much of an arse as he is.”
Fred rolled his eyes and came over to join the conversation. “What would I get out of this arrangement George? I don’t know if you were unaware, but I don’t exactly need money at the moment, we’re doing just fine as it is.”
Great, you thought, he’s a pompous rich kid too. Gets a little money and it goes all to his head. 
“Fred, what were we talking about the other night?” George prodded. “You hate being alone, especially at night. If Y/N’s here, then you’ll have someone to keep you company, someone who’s always in the loft with you.”
“Aww, is little Freddie afraid of the dark?” you mocked, sticking out your bottom lip and jesting in a baby voice. 
He practically growled back. “Shut the fuck up, you--”
George put his hands out, one on your shoulder and one on Fred’s chest to separate the two of you. “It’s a mutually beneficial deal. You both know that you don’t have any other options, and maybe if you two dimwits spend some time together you won’t be at each other’s throat all the time! Now, what do you say? Just try it out.”
You looked Fred up and down dramatically, letting him know how much distaste for him you had. He did the same back to you but paused for a brief moment at your boobs, causing you to blush and look away. 
Fred was the first to give in. “Fine. I’m willing to try it if she will. As long as we establish some ground rules, starting with you can never come into my room, got it?”
It took everything you had not to slap the shit out of the man standing in front of you, but George was right. You didn’t have any other options. 
“I’ll at least have my own bathroom, right?” you asked George. 
He laughed guiltily and mentally prepared himself for another barrage of yells. “You see, about that…”
------------------------------
“Your room’s at the end of the hall, bathroom’s to the right, my room’s to the left, have at it.” 
You dropped the heavy boxes you had been carrying onto the floor and leaned over to catch your breath. Fred was standing nonchalantly in the kitchen, pulling out the bread and jam to make a sandwich. 
“Excuse me?” you asked indignantly. 
“You’re excused,” he replied, not even looking up. 
You stomped over to the small kitchenette and slammed the refrigerator door shut, which Fred just opened again seconds later. You tried again, but he merely sighed and reached for the handle. Finally after not being able to take any more you shoved his hand aside and stood in front of the door, leaning all of your weight onto it. 
“Something I can help you with, doll?” 
The anger coursing through your boy only intensified, nails leaving marks on the insides of your clenched hands. “First of all, don’t call me doll, understand?”
He rolled his eyes and grabbed you by the waist, lifting you to the side so he could once again get to his food. “I’ll call you what I want, darling.”
By this point you had completely given into your anger. Pulling your wand from your back pocket you shoved it under his chin, forcing him against a nearby wall and making him finally pay attention to you. “You listen here, Freddie,” you snarled. “Neither of us want this to happen, that’s a fact. But if you get to have ground rules then so do I, and I will not sit here and be quite literally tossed around like some quaffle! Have I made myself clear?”
It was subtle, but Fred gulped. You had always scared him at Hogwarts, which is one of the reasons he picked on you so much. He’d rather be on the offensive than always backed into a corner playing defense. 
“Ok doll--sorry, I mean Y/N. Let’s sit down and go over any rules, ok? As much as I enjoy being pinned to the wall by you, I think we need to defuse the tension, yeah?”
Even when he was trying to make peace he was infuriating. But you relented and slowly let the wand down, pulling out a chair at the countertop with Fred joining right next to you. 
Fred summoned a piece of parchment and a pen (which was always much easier to use than quills) and messily scrawled ‘Loft Rules’ on the top. 
“Alright, you can go first,” he offered. 
You thought for a moment before delivering your demands. “Number one, no nicknames. I go by Y/N, and I refuse to answer to anything else.” He nodded and wrote it down. 
“Number two. You can’t ignore me. I know you think you’re better than me and that I’m not worth your time, but if I’m going to be your roommate then you have to treat me as an equal, and I’ll do the same to you.” 
“Yeah,” Fred scoffed, “just like you did back in Hogwarts.”
“Can we please not focus on the past?” you asked. “I know we were both horrible arses to each other, but we’re not kids anymore. I’ll respect you if you respect me. It’s not that difficult.”
Fred grumbled in agreement and wrote down the second rule. “Anything else?”
“Don’t go through my room or my stuff. I have some very personal items and I would appreciate you keeping your nose out of them.”
Fred put the pen to his chin in concentration, ideas forming in his head. 
“Fred,” you scolded. “No touching my things. That’s final.” 
“Fine, but the same goes for me,” he said. “That’s my rule number one, stay out of my room and don’t touch any of my personal items. Furniture and that kind of thing don’t count.”
You nodded. “That’s only fair. Rule number two?”
“George and I are always working on new products, and usually testing them out on people. We’ll pay you to test them if you want, but if not you need to stay out of our way and mind your own business.”
“I’ll test anything you guys have, I did it back at school and I’m sure you’re much more professional now.”
“What?” Fred asked, completely confused. “When did you test our products?”
“Who do you think was the one who tried, and eventually perfected, the skiving snackboxes? George asked me to help him with them so I skipped prefect duties for a few nights and we figured it all out.”
“There’s no way you were the one who fixed them! I’ve been giving George the credit this whole time, how in the world did you do that?”
You shrugged. “I wasn’t top of our class for nothing, Freddie.”
“Oh I know, you never let me hear the end of it.”
Before you could say something in response Fred rushed on to his last request.
“Number three,” he said, smirking widely. “You can’t complain about any of the girls I bring home, and you can’t get in their way or say bad things about me. Believe it or not, I can be quite charming and I give everyone a good time, so no complaints of noise either. And we don’t use silencing spells, so get ready for that.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Thank you. Now, I’m going downstairs to help George with a new shipment that just came in. Have fun unpacking your things!” He didn’t even give you a chance to say anything before aparating downstairs, leaving you alone in the large loft. You sighed and went to grab the boxes, dragging everything to the room you would be stuck in for who knows how long. 
------------------------------
“This is the ugliest uniform I’ve ever seen!” 
“Then it’ll match the rest of your personality! Put it on.”
You scoffed at Fred’s remark but decided not to argue. No matter how much you despised the boy you figured it probably wasn’t the best idea to start off by insulting your boss. Fred Weasley was your boss. You never thought you would reach this low of a point in your life. 
The outfit you had to wear was exactly what Fred and George wore, which was fine for them, two 6’ 3” men. But the oversized male suit that you had to roll up countless times really didn’t suit your figure, and Fred knew that all too well. 
Scrunching up the pant legs and fastening the tie, you made your way out of the loft to join the twins down in their office, running into George on the way down. 
“Hey Y/N, sleep well?” George asked, handing you a latte he had bought from the coffee shop down the street. 
You gave him a grateful nod and took a sip. “Hardly. I didn’t get moved in until about 2 in the morning and I always have trouble falling asleep in a new place, so let’s just say last night was a pretty rough start.”
“Fred didn’t help you unpack your things?” George questioned, looking a little surprised. “That must’ve taken you ages to get everything set up.”
“You’re telling me. But no, he just holed himself up in his room, ordered takeout around 9, then went back to his room and that’s all I saw of him. But I mean that’s pretty in character, yeah? Never really liked me much.”
It took George a few seconds to take in everything you were telling him. Fred was never one to ignore someone, especially someone he was living with. “Yeah,” he said, “but even so he was never actually rude to you at school right? I always thought it was some teenage rivalry fueled by hormones of something like that.”
“I wish it was that simple,” you sighed. “But I always appreciate when he’s leaving me alone. It’s a lot better than some of the asshole things he would say and do when we were kids. Trust me, the less we interact, the better.”
George was speechless with shock, but you didn’t notice. You made your way to some shelves to tidy up before the shop opened, leaving George standing open mouthed. 
He watched as Fred finally exited the office with a stack of papers piled higher than his head. He dropped them next to you, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “Fill these out for me will ya? Order forms, due back to me by noon. Shouldn’t be too complicated for you to understand, but let me know if you need me to explain what any of the big words mean.”
“Of course, sir.” you said, picking up the stack and taking it to the back. Fred came over to join his brother, who looked appalled at Fred’s actions. 
“What?” he asked. 
“I love you, but you’re a fucking moron.” George followed you into the back while Fred stared at him, confused on why his brother had for once in his life not been on his side. 
George spent the rest of the morning showing you the ropes until you felt you were comfortable enough with the setup to be able to help them stock products and show people around. It was a nice change from your Ministry job, which was predictable and could be quite boring. This job had you always on your toes, talking with kids and demonstrating some of your favorite products. 
The twins came back from their lunch break around one and were met with a large crowd of kids following you around like lost puppies. They were all grinning widely and laughing at every demonstration you provided, making you mirror their actions with glee. 
You tried to show the kids how to use one of the newer products, but it ended up exploding in your face, making everyone howl with laughter, including yourself.
Fred watched you interact with the kids, enraptured by how easily you seemed to get along with them. When he knew you at Hogwarts he always thought you were a cocky and arrogant student who would’ve hated the idea of his pranks and jokes. The person he was watching now was nothing like the one he remembered. 
“She’s a natural, huh?” whispered George, snapping Fred out of his stupor. “She’s always been good with kids, they seem to love her.”
“Y/N?” Fred asked. “She was so cold back in Hogwarts, I never saw her smile once!”
“Really?” George asked bewildered. “She’s always been a blast! Lee and her were friends and I can’t help but think he might’ve sparked the wild side in her, but I’ve never seen her be cold to anyone. Well, anyone except you.”
Before Fred could see anything you noticed the twins’ arrival. Smiling, you gestured to them and announced their presence in a regal voice. “And there they are, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!”
The kids cheered and ran over to greet Fred and George, bouncing with excitement and berating them with questions about their products. George gave you a teasing glare as he was dragged across the floor while you sat on the counter, laughing at the scene you caused. But when you went to look at Fred, who you expected to be ignoring you, he was doing the complete opposite. 
He was staring at you unashamedly, his eyes burning into yours. You awkwardly looked away, but when you glanced back a few seconds later he was still analyzing you, as if he was trying to figure out everything about you. You cleared your throat and moved to the back office, hoping you could get a start on that paperwork and maybe shake the weird feeling you got when Fred looked at you like that. 
------------------------------
“All closed up for the night?”
You jumped at Fred’s voice, which had distracted you from casting the last of the protective charms needed to keep the shop locked up. With an entire alley filled with wizards who learned Alohomora in their first year at Hogwarts, it was safe to say they needed their fair share of charms to keep the store from being robbed. 
“I was almost there, before you interrupted,” you said, turning back to the final spells you needed to cast. It had been a few weeks since you moved in with Fred and it had honestly been a lot better than you had expected. Of course, you two were still constantly at each other’s throats and the neighbors had complained about shouting matches more than once, but neither of you had killed the other yet and you considered that a victory. 
As you finished up the last of your closing duties you saw George grabbing his things and heading to the Floo network upstairs, trying to rush past and avoid you and Fred. 
“Hey!” you yelled after him. He stopped dead in his tracks and tried to shrink down as if to hide from you. But, being over 6 feet tall, it was rather difficult for him to disappear. “Where do you think you’re going? Stop trying to sneak off on us!”
“Yeah,” said Fred. “We’ve had takeout the last three nights in a row, we need you to stay and cook us a decent meal so I don’t have to smell Y/N’s fast food breath anymore.”
You elbowed him but nodded in agreement, you were getting absolutely sick of not having a home cooked meal. 
“Guys,” George groaned, “I need to get home to see Angie! I’ve been working late for the past week and it’s been a while since we’ve had some...alone time.”
You and Fred both covered your ears and gagged, pretending to pop a puking pastille and subsequently throw up. 
“You’re both so immature, and that’s coming from me,” he said smiling. “Besides, isn’t it high time you two learned to cook for yourselves? What were you gonna do, just have me cook for you the rest of your lives?”
“Yes,” you and Fred replied in unison, shooting each other dirty looks before turning back to your friend. Fred, with his unhealthy obsession with pyrotechnics, and you, with your lack of basic common sense, were never allowed in the kitchen before, and so neither of you had any idea how to cook even the most simple of meals. 
George rolled his eyes and continued up the stairs to the loft, you and Fred following shortly behind him. 
“I’m sure you’ll be fine, just follow the recipe I laid out for you. It’s spaghetti, I’m sure even you two couldn’t mess that up.” And with that, George had whooshed through the fireplace, leaving only you and Fred in the kitchen. 
You stared at each other for a second, before you came to a decision. “I’ll order the takeout, you want Chinese tonight?”
You picked up one of the many takeout menus you had lying around and began to skim through it when Fred spoke up. “No, George is right. We might as well try to learn, and with two of us we should be able to figure it out.”
You looked at him as if he had grown a second head. “That is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had, and you’ve had some really dumb ideas.”
“C’mon,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “We’re both smart, some of us more so than others. How bad can it possibly be?”
Answer: very bad. 
Fred was running around the kitchen screaming at the top of his lungs while the fire alarm blared all throughout the loft. “Y/N, help! It won’t stop screaming at me!”
“I don’t know what to do!” you yelled, throwing the burning cookbook into the sink. There was still smoke rising from it, which made the alarm continue to beep at full volume. You grabbed the pot of boiling water and poured it down the drain, hoping that it would put out any of the pages that were still flaming. But the water only splashed up at you, making you yelp and fall backwards in order to avoid being burned by the liquid. 
Fred was still scrambling through the rooms and he didn’t notice your body laying on the floor, causing him to trip over you and faceplant into the spilled marinara sauce. 
The two of you tried to get up but your limbs became tangled in each other’s and you ended up on the ground again. After a few struggles you were finally back on your feet, but you were once again off of them as Fred hoisted you into the table. 
“Get on my shoulders,” he said over the sound of the alarm. You climbed on and reached up to fumble around with all of the buttons on the device. “Hurry up, Y/N, I can’t support you for much longer!”
“I’m trying, I’m trying!” After what felt like ages you had finally pushed the right sequence and the loft was drowned in a sudden silence. Both you and Fred let out sighs of relief as he lowered you back onto the table. You hopped off and took a few steps back, finally taking in the disastrous scene around you.
“Well,” you said relieved, “at least that’s over.”
You turned to smile at Fred but we’re only met with a wide eyed look of pure horror. 
“Fred? What is it?”
It was then that you smelled it. The familiar burning that had just been flooding your nostrils moments before was suddenly back and stronger than ever.
Slowly, you turned your head to look behind you, and your eyes widened even larger than Fred’s had. “I’m on fire!”
Sure enough, your oversized sweater had been dangling in the flame of the kitchen stove, which neither of you had remembered to turn off. The bottom of your outfit was slowly burning, bright orange and red flames climbing up your torso. 
“Fuck! Fred, do something!” you wailed. You began running around the kitchen and spinning around faster and faster to try to put out the fire. 
“I’m trying!” Fred grabbed a blanket from the living room and draped it over you, hoping to cut off the oxygen flow. But the fire only spread to the blanket, making your situation ten times worse. 
“What the fuck Fred?! Do something useful!”
Fred dove under the table, reaching for his wand. He shimmied under a little more, but his right pant leg got caught in the burning blanket, meaning that both of you were now being engulfed by the flames. 
“Holy shit!” He patted the small flames on his pants away, but you were frantically trying to shove yourself into the sink under the running water. 
Grabbing his wand, Fred tried to get up, banging his head on the table in the process, and aimed it at you. “We never should’ve tried cooking! I can’t believe you talked me into this!”
“This is the opposite of what I told you to do!” you shrieked. “Now put the fire out you moron!”
Fred quickly cast Aguamenti, sending gallons upon gallons of water out of his wand and straight onto your flailing body, as well as the burning blanket. You sat in the sink, ass half in the now empty spaghetti pot, completely drenched from head to toe. Fred’s pant leg was still simmering, and his entire face was covered in marinara sauce, which had dripped down to cover most of his shirt. After all of the shock of what had just happened finally passed, a small smile crept onto both of your faces, and soon you were both bent over laughing hysterically. 
Fred lifted you out of the sink, pushing you away suddenly when he realized how much water was dripping onto him. “C’mon, love, let’s get you cleaned up.”
“Hey, I thought I said no nicknames,” you teased, falling in step with him as you both rushed to your shared bathroom. 
“C’mon, just this one, please? I deserve it after what you put me through back there.” He gave his best puppy dog eyes but you didn’t fall for it for a second. 
“What I put you through?!” you said, bumping into his shoulder. “You thought we were supposed to light the noodles to get them to soften! I caught on fire for Pete’s sake!”
He laughed at you as you turned on the bathroom sink and tugged at your sweater. It was completely scorched in the back, black all the way up to your collar. You were lucky Fred had put it out when he did, otherwise there was a good chance it could have damaged your hair. 
You took the now ruined sweater off, leaving you standing there in only your bra and a pair of comfortable pants. You could feel Fred’s gaze on your body, making your face turn red and you instinctively covered yourself up. He unbuckled his scorched trousers and hung them in the shower, hoping that maybe he could get some material and fix them later. 
The both of you realized simultaneously that you were each half naked, and you were completely soaked wearing a fairly transparent white bra. Deciding to distract from the obvious tension, you finally broke the silence. “This may sound completely ludacris, considering I was just, y’know, on fire, but that was one of the most exciting and fun things that’s happened in a while. Reminds me of when we were back in school, with all of the mischief and pranks.”
“Back in school?” Fred replied. “I thought you hated my pranks! You seemed like you were so, i dunno, above me. And I thought you hated everything fun and exciting!”
“You’re not serious, are you?” You smiled at his confused expression. “I was friends with Lee and your brother. The amount of trouble I would get in when you were off in detention or shagging some girl in our year...it was fantastic. I never hated your pranks, I just hated you. No offense.”
He shrugged. “None taken. I hated you too. But you’re nothing like I thought you were.”
You took a step closer to him, softly biting your lip as you grinned sheepishly. “You’re nothing like I thought either.”
This time Fred moved a few inches closer, his hand hovering over your hip and eyes taking in all of you. His fingers brushed against your side ever so softly, caressing your side with his fairy light touches. You slowly parted your lips and he did the same, continuing to grow closer and closer until--
“What the bloody hell happened here?!”
The two of you shot apart at the noise, registering that it must’ve been George who had used the Floo network to come back to the loft. You avoided eye contact with the redhead standing next to you as you both exited the bathroom and went to find George, who was looking wide eyed at the complete mess you had created all over the apartment. 
“Y’know what,” he said after looking at the current state the two of you were in, “ I don’t wanna know. I just wanted to come back, grab the papers I left here, and be on my merry way.”
He stopped short, looking over at you again. “Nice tits, Y/N.”
You quickly crossed your arms in front of your chest again and Fred stood in between you and George, blocking his view of your very exposed self. 
“Calm down, Freddie, I have a girlfriend, I’m not going to be ogling your roommate, dear brother.” He tiptoed around the giant mess and grabbed a stack of papers sitting on the coffee table. “Oh, and before I forget, Y/N, remember that guy I was telling you about? The one investor I work with?” he said with a wink. 
“Umm, yeah, what about him?” you asked, still very shaken up about the events of the evening. 
“He said he’d love to get to know you! I told him he’s your type and apparently you’re very much his, so I set up a date for you two tomorrow night. Is that alright?”
Fred snapped his head in your direction but you refused to look at him. What had happened in the bathroom was a mistake, an adrenaline induced mistake that almost changed everything for your roommate dynamic. You couldn’t mess things up now, not when you and Fred had finally been getting along. Besides, you had been dying to get out and date, and George had at long last found you someone that wasn’t a complete asshole. You’d be a fool to not give it a shot. “Y-yeah, that sounds great.” 
“Perfect,” he replied. “I’ll see you two tomorrow then. And please, don’t ever cook again. I promise I’ll be here to make you a nice meal next time, alright?”
George disappeared once again, leaving you with the man who had almost kissed you in the bathroom of your shared apartment. Fred moved away quickly, going to clean up the mess the two of you had made. You tried to follow and help him, but he just shooed you away and back to your room. 
Just a few seconds ago Fred was mere millimeters away from you, but now he felt like he was millions of miles away. 
------------------------------
“Ready, Y/N?”
George was standing in the opening of the bathroom door, watching as you put the finishing touches on your makeup. You decided to put your best foot forward tonight. No use wasting a great opportunity just because of some unwanted confusions from the other day. Turning to face you friend you did a little twirl, dress flying up and spinning around you. 
“How do I look?” you asked bashfully. 
“Brilliant,” George replied, a proud grin on his face. “Let’s get you downstairs, he’ll be waiting to meet you.” 
The two of you made your way to the staircase leading out of the loft, when a very upset and very tipsy Fred stumbled by the two of you. He pushed past and didn’t even stop to say anything before heading out of the shop and down the street. 
“Where’s he off to?” you asked. 
“Oh, just to shag another random girl he finds at a bar. It’s a weekly occurrence for him at this point. It stopped once you moved in though, this is the first time he’s gone out since you’ve lived here.” George looked longingly at his brother, who had always turned away from his problems and instead focused on firewhisky and girls to temporarily ease his pain. 
“So, he doesn’t really date then? Just the hookup type?” you prodded, hoping against all odds that George would give you the answer you wanted to hear. 
“He used to, back in school and before the war. But something just happened after he got out of the pile of rubble,” he said. “I haven’t ever seen the same girl around here more than once or twice. But hey, as long as he’s alright it’s really none of my business. I just gotta look out for him, y’know?”
You gave George a reassuring smile. “You’re a great brother, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told. Now get out there and get yourself a man!” George gave you a little shove in the right direction and you set off for your date. 
Although you were hoping that this could be a change of pace, a push in the right direction, the date did not go anything like you were wishing it would. 
The man George had told you about, Jason, was a perfectly fine guy. He was polite, charming, very handsome. But while the two of you wined and dined, you couldn’t help but compare him to something else. Someone else. No matter what he said, what jokes he would crack, it just wasn’t what you wanted. 
You thanked him for a wonderful evening, but it was fairly obvious that neither of you had intentions of seeing each other again. As you sulked through the dark streets of nocturnal Diagon Alley, you couldn’t help but mentally kick yourself for giving up so easily. One date and you decided that this man wasn’t worth your time. And for what? An unrealistic expectation you’d conjured up in your head about what your ideal person would be. 
As you trudged up the stairs to the loft, thinking about how in the world you would ever be able to actually find someone else to go out with, you heard shouting from inside the apartment. You reached to open the door, only to have it yanked open and a young woman, clothes hastily thrown on and pure fury etched across her brow, came charging out. 
“This must be her, isn’t it? This is Y/N!” she turned her back and yelled. Fred suddenly appeared, shocked to see you home so early. “Well, answer me!”
Fred and you both stood there speechless, Fred not knowing what to say and you now knowing what was going on. “Y/N…” he finally said, so quietly that you could barely hear him. 
This just set the other girl off again. “What are you, his girlfriend, wife maybe?” 
You shook your head fervently. “N-no, not at all! We’re just... roommates.”
The girl seemed to calm after this, reaching out to put a hand on your shoulder. “That’s a relief I guess. I thought I had just become an accidental homewrecker!”
“Homewrecker?” you exclaimed. You didn’t even know this girl, she was just one of Fred’s random hookups, but she thought that she would be breaking up a nonexistent relationship between you and Fred. 
“Yeah,” she said, “he brings me home from the bar, sweet talks me, gets me naked, and you’ll never guess whose name he moaned as he--”
“That’s enough!” Fred yelled, shoving the girl out past you and grabbing your wrist to pull you into the loft. “Look, I’m sorry Marcy--”
“It’s Macy, you dumbass,” she said, fixing her messed up hair and putting on a look of confidence. “And the night is still young, so if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go find someone else who can actually remember my name!” She slammed the door shut behind her, the thud echoing across the walls. 
You clicked your tongue, trying to fill the absence of noise without wanting to bring up the very interesting news Macy had provided. “So, I’m sorry about your date--”
“Let’s not talk about it,” he interrupted. “I’m going to bed and I don’t want you to mention this to anyone else, understand?”
You didn’t give him any attention as you went to your room, trying to comprehend everything that happened. “Well, my date was a bust too, thanks for asking,” you said as you copied the earlier actions of Macy and slammed your door shut. You undressed and removed your makeup, hoping that a long night’s sleep would allow you to decompress and somehow sort out everything you were feeling. 
------------------------------
Your goals of a long and peaceful sleep were shattered as a high pitched, incredibly annoying alarm clock beeped from the room adjacent to yours. You groaned and covered your ears with your pillow, trying to block out the noise to no avail. Rolling over, you saw your clock displaying 6:00 am, a time you definitely didn’t want to get up at on your day off. 
You thought Fred would have woken up by now and turned off the horrid sounds, but it continued to ring through your ears, getting louder and louder each time. Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore and you jumped out of bed, storming over to Fred’s locked bedroom door. 
“Frederick Gideon Weasley!” you screamed, banging on his door. His blaring alarm was only adding to your awful mood, caused by the terrible night you had before. You didn’t think you could stand one more second of the noises and you were practically screaming Fred’s name. 
“Turn that off, right now! Fred I’m not kidding! This is your last chance.” You continued to pound your fist against the door to the point where you knew you were going to bruise if you had to continue. Completely fed up with the situation and with Fred in general you pulled out your wand and unlocked the door. 
“Fred Weasley for the love of--” You stopped abruptly and took in the scene in front of you. You’d never seen the inside of Fred’s room before, but you had to imagine that it didn’t always look this bad. This...dark.
 The drapes were hanging from the windows, covering any source of light that could’ve possibly come in. Clothes were strewn across the floor and small knick knacks were thrown everywhere with no care. The alarm continued to blare, but you couldn’t focus on that at the moment, the only thing you could focus on was Fred. 
He was curled up in his bed, Muggle headphones covering his ears and blasting music so loud that you could hear it clearly from across the room. He was clutching a pillow into his chest, head buried into it and his body shaking with what you thought to be sobs. No, it couldn’t be. Fred couldn’t be crying. 
Suddenly he jerked up and threw off his headphones, finally noticing your presence. “Freddie…” you said softly.
“Get. The fuck. Out.” he growled. He wiped his tears away and the sadness you had just seen in him had completely turned into something else. Complete anger. 
You ignored his command. “Fred, are you ok?”
Shooting out of bed, clothed only in his boxers, Fred grabbed his wand and almost charged at you. “I said get out!” he screamed, tears continuing to stream from his face. “Go! Leave! I don’t want to see you again!”
You backed out of the room, hands in the air as the tall infuriated figure towered over you with his wand in your face. “Yeah, ok I’ll just, umm, go back to my room.” 
You tried to rush back to the safety of your bedroom but a harsh hand grabbed your shoulder and turned you around. “No,” he seethed. “I said get out, that means get. out. Get out of my apartment.”
“Freddie…”
“Don’t call me that!” He wasn’t even trying to hide the tears now. They came streaming out, drowning his face. “Leave the apartment and don’t come back. You’re… you’re banished!”
“Excuse me?” you asked, hands on your hips.
“I said you’re hereby banished from the loft and from my store!” 
“You can’t banish me! This is my apartment too!”
“Banished! Leave! Go!” He ran into your room and started pulling clothes out of your drawers, throwing everything onto piles on your floor. 
“Fred! Stop that, what are you doing?”
“I said banished and that’s final, get your things and leave.” He continued to pack your clothes, not even paying attention to what he was tossing and barely being able to see through his tears. 
“Well...you’re banished too!” you screamed at him. “You’re in my room, that’s one of the rules! Get out, you’re banished!”
“No, you’re banished, I said it first so only mine counts!” 
“No, you’re banished”
“No you are!”
“No--”
“Just get the fuck out Y/N!” Fred yelled, louder than he’d yelled anything before. “I can’t stand seeing you anymore and you need to go!”
“Why?” you pushed. “I see you crying one time and suddenly you can’t stand me? Are you really that scared of being vulnerable?”
“Yes!”
You both froze, taking in what he just said. He sucked in a deep breath and wiped his face with one of the shirts he was holding, coming close and staring straight down into your eyes. 
“Yes. I don’t want you to see me curled up in my bed, crying into my fucking pillow because I miss my twin brother! Because I can’t handle being alone, and even when someone's living with me I’m still alone! Because you hate me, and I can’t even tell the girl I live with that I love her, because then you’ll laugh at me and leave! And maybe it’s easier to just make you go rather than being abandoned, again. So, Y/N, you’re banished, from my apartment and from my life.”
As he finished his rant you stood there, not knowing what to do or say. The ever-happy, cocky, overbearingly confident man in front of you had just vented out everything he had been feeling for the last few months. You couldn’t think straight or come to a rational decision. So you did the first thing that came to your mind. You grabbed his cheeks in your hand and pulled him down, enveloping his lips in yours. 
He didn’t hesitate to kiss back aggressively, all tongue and teeth. It was nothing like any first kiss you’d had with anyone else; it wasn’t sweet or loving. It was passionate and needy, and it was both of you confessing everything you’d held in your hearts for the past few months, and if you’re being honest, for the past decade. 
In seconds you were on the bed, legs straddling the person you had despised for years. Neither of you could let go of each other, only coming up for air when absolutely necessary. Hands on each other’s bodies, clothes abandoned on the floor, screams of each other’s names and moans of ‘I love you’s echoing off the bedroom walls, until the two of you were tired and panting, your head resting on his chest and his arms around your waist. 
You twisted your head to stare up at Fred’s sweat-glistening face, the tears long since dried and his expression showing none of the negativity it had before. Snuggling into his bare chest even more, you murmured something too quiet for him to hear. 
“What was that, darling?”
“I asked if you still wanted to banish me after that.”
He laughed and squeezed his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “Definitely not. I mean, unless you want to go.” He shifted nervously, fears of abandonment and rejection resurfacing. What if this was just a heat of the moment thing? What if all you wanted was a one time hookup and you didn’t have real feelings for him? What if he was bad? No, that last one couldn’t be it, your screams had said otherwise. But everything else…
“Of course I don’t want to leave Freddie, but you did break the “no nicknames” rule a second ago, so maybe I should banish you.” He ruffled your hair and glared at you before chuckling and slowly closing his eyes. 
“Hey Freddie,” you asked quietly. “Did you mean what you said? About loving me?”
“Course I did, love. Why do you think I was such an arse at Hogwarts? You were too pretty and perfect and the stupid guys were always talking to you. Made me bloody pissed. I’m sorry about everything I’ve done to hurt you, really I am.” You could hear his heart beating faster at his apology. You traced your cool hands in patterns on his chest, sending shivers down his spine. 
“Well I was never an angel either,” you said. “One time I snogged Roger right outside the Gryffindor Common Room just because I knew you were gonna be leaving for Quidditch practice soon and I liked getting under your skin.”
“I knew that was planned!” he said, shooting up and making your head hit the headboard behind you. “No one believed me, but I knew you were a little minx just trying to get under my skin. But I see nothing’s really changed, has it?”
“Oh shut up!” you said, suddenly self conscious of your very naked body being on full display, Fred’s eyes raking you over. You covered up and snuggled back into the bed. “I love you too, y’know. I’m sorry I’m such a stuck-up snob sometimes.”
“S’okay, darling. I know you were just like that in response to me. Sorry for pushing you away so many times. I guess I tend to do that a lot.”
“Hey.” You raked your hands through Fred's messy ginger hair, pulling strands into tiny braids. “You know that George didn’t abandon you, right? He loves you more than I’ve ever seen someone love before.”
Fred nodded softly, tears forming in his eyes again. “Yeah, I know. But it’s hard. We shared a room for 18 years straight, both at home and at Hogwarts. Then we shared an apartment, and now it feels like he’s not even here anymore. Which is bloody stupid because I see him downstairs every day. I just...I want to be able to come home and tell someone all about my day, and talk about dreams and goals until 3 in the morning, and--”
“And try to cook dinner together only to end up on fire?” you interrupted with a smile on your face. “I know I’m no George, but I want to be there for you in any way I can. Stay up late and go on adventures and go on double dates with your brother and Angelina. I wanna be yours. I mean, if you’ll let me.”
Fred cupped your cheek and pulled you into a chaste kiss. “I’ll do more than let you, I was about to ask anyways but you had to beat me to it, didn’t you?”
“It’s a habit,” you shrugged. “I’m glad you tried to banish me.”
“I’m glad you wouldn’t let me. Looks like your stubbornness finally paid off.” You shoved his chest lightly and wrapped your arm across his torso. 
“I love you Freddie.”
“I love you too.”
A few silent moments passed with the two of you wrapped in each other’s arms. “Hey Fred?” you said, finally breaking the silence. 
“Yeah?”
“Can you please get up and turn off that bloody alarm?”
Tag List(specific fic): @lucymfer
Message me to be on my main taglist or any of my series taglists!
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missandrogyny · 2 years
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idk if you’ve ever answered smthn like this before but I just finished rereading hbtgoy and the professional cuddler fic 🥲 how do you imagine hl in those verses after the fics? (maybe a few years after idkkkkk i’m just a sucker for headcanons) thank u for sharing ur work w us! i love ur larry fics so much, they’re a big comfort
Omg I’m sorry I only just got back to you now, you sent this a week ago and I wanted to give u a good answer but I have had a busy week [insert Niall “today was a busy week for us” gif] and just finally got the time to sit down and type something out.
firstly, thank you so much for reading my works 🥺 it means so much to me that even though it’s been years you can still find comfort in my words 🥰 I’m really glad I can make you smile even for a little bit!!
anyway HEADCANONS! it’s been ages but hmm
ghost fic:
- it’s not exactly a few years later but like another 6 months of living together in h’s flat, they decide to get married. it’s a small affair, just them and their friends and it’s just the greatest day in louis’ life
- i think for them in particular they have the most fairytale ending compared to all my other versions of Harry n louis, partly because they went through…so much, yknow? I put them through the wringer but I have a bleeding heart and so they just get married after a few years and settle down and live happily ever after. they have maybe 2 kids and a dog (Clifford the labradoodle!!!)
- all of harry’s next songs are love songs about love defying all the hardships and louis just rolls his eyes and calls him a sap but he’s secretly pleased.
- louis still works as a real estate agent and everytime he has to sell a new house Harry will pout and be like “don’t flirt with other ghosts” (not like louis can…my personal head canon of why the boys could see ghost harry was because their seance, shit as it was, worked lmaoooo)
Professional cuddler fic:
- louis doesn’t quit his job immediately even after getting together w Harry, because it’s a good job n it pays well and cuddling is fun. But as their relationship progresses Harry just gets poutier and poutier everytime louis has to cuddle someone who isn’t him, so louis like. Looks into changing jobs and starts trying to change careers without Harry knowing that one night after they’ve been together 2 years, Harry asks why he hasn’t been getting clients recently and louis is just like 🤷🏻‍♂️ I quit my job.
- Harry is very shocked but also elated about this new development and louis is all like “YOURE A TERRIBLE BOYFRIEND HAROLD, YOU DONT EVEN KNOW ABOUT MY EMPLOYMENT, YOU DONT CARE ABOUT ME” but all bratty and jokingly and Harry has to give him lots of kisses and 👀 other things 👀 for him to calm down.
- louis just ends up working an office job. it’s okay but it’s not like he needs it to pay well, especially since he has harry lmao. but he likes the job that he does and he won’t admit it but he’s super pleased that no one else gets to touch him except Harry, yknow. (There were some creepy clients)
- Harry still writes sad songs and louis still teases him about it but Harry writes the sappiest, most heartfelt songs about louis in private and sings them to him when there’s no one else listening and louis is all “GOD YOURE SO LAME HAROLD” but he looks like this emoji 🥺 when he tells Harry so it’s a moot point basically.
- one time they get drunk and they co-write a dance track just for fun. The track blows up and Louis thinks it’s the funniest thing. He has one writing credit and it’s the dumbest dance track ever
- they break up once, over something very shallow. Like Harry spending too much time w his industry mates and louis getting jealous but he won’t talk about how jealous he is and it blows up to epic proportions and louis leaves the house. but louis can’t sleep without Harry at this point and after a few hours he relents and tells Harry where he is and Harry shows up all despondent and lays down on the bed, sleeps beside louis. and it doesn’t fix everything but it makes them both feel a little better and they talk a few days later and they decide to try and be better for each other.
- and they are.
and yeahhh that’s all the headcanons I can think of right now!!!! not sure if this is what you wanted…if it isn’t I am sorry fndjjdjd. but thank u for loving these two fics as much as I do!!! if you have any specific questions about the fic or the characters u are always free to ask, but you are also always free to imagine whatever happened in the end if that’s more fun for you! 🥰 have a lovely day and I am sooooo sorry once again for the delayed reply
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toriwakes · 3 years
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Insecure [Draco Malfoy x Reader]
a/n: thanks for the support on the last story!! here’s a longer one, please let me know if you have any requests :)
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harry was your best friend. you two could’ve been mistaken for siblings if you didn’t look so different. but like everyone else, you two also had differences. your main one being; you were in love with draco malfoy. draco had been your boyfriend for about 3 months. the boys bickered, but that was expected. luckily, they managed to keep it under control when you were around. speaking of you being around, you hadn’t really noticed how much time you were spending with harry. a small part of you was constantly telling you that you were too clingy and should hop off draco’s back. so, today you were going to the pitch with harry. you took a seat in the stands next to hermione. “he’s really good at this.” you said to yourself. “you just noticed? he’s been a prodigy since he was 11.” hermione said. harry was quick, grasping the snitch, but not before falling right off his room and onto the sand below. “shit!” you said, standing up. “let’s go.” hermione said, walking down the steps. his teammates were circled around him and when you reached him, he was grasping his wrist, groaning in pain. you and hermione rushed to his aid, but suddenly, you heard a familiar voice. “(y/n/n)? hey, what happened here?” the crowd opened and revealed malfoy, who had this confused look on his face. you and some other teammates helped harry onto his feet. “harry’s injured his wrist.” hermione told him. draco wanted to spit on hermione, you saw it in his face. but he bit his tongue. “well alright then. (y/n), you ready?” now it was your turn to act confused. you were standing with harry’s arm around you but you were carrying his weight. harry’s face was scrunched up; did malfoy seriously have to do this right now? “what?” you said simply. then you remembered draco wanted to take a walk by the lake today. “w- draco, no. ive got to get harry to the hospital wing. i’ll see you later.” you pushed past him, harry limping. he really did get the wind knocked out of him when he fell. you were sitting next to harry in the hospital wing, half asleep. madam pomfree said he’d be better by morning, so you wanted to stick with him until then. you were practically asleep when you heard a very faint voice. “shes with potter. she’s always with potter.” you wanted to open your eyes and find who it was, but sleep caught up to you first.
you woke up before harry, the sunlight from the windows beaming onto your face. you stood up to stretch, all your bones popping when you did. “merlin.” you murmured to yourself. you reached for his hand, putting it in yours. “i should go.” you thought. you grabbed your bag and began to walk out of the office. halfway to your common room, you spotted draco who was also walking down the hall. he was dressed down, looking like he’d just gotten out of bed. “there you are- where were you?” draco said, snatching your wrist and pulling you closer to him. “i fell asleep in the nurses office.” you said, moving your head away from him. you were sure your breath smelled. “look at me. you spent the night with potter?” he snapped. you faced him, now backing up. “well when you say it like that, it sounds weird. he got hurt and i was worried, like any normal friend would be.” you said, shaking your head. draco let go of your wrist now, running a hand through his hair. he looked like he was holding something back. “what is it malfoy?” “you’re always with him!” he retorted. draco never told you this, but he noticed how you were recently giving harry more attention. for lunch, you sat by harry. you walked to class with harry. and now, you spent the night with him. draco had never felt so unwanted by you. “what?” “you’re always. with him. you haven’t been to my dorm in weeks. we’ve barley spent any time together because you’re always busy. and i’d understand if you were busy with homework or something worth while but it’s always ‘harry and i are going to hogsmade’ or ‘harry and i are going to visit hagrid’ the great oaf he is. that, i don’t understand.” although you’ve only been official for 3 months, you and draco had this short period of time when things were complicated. you quickly learned that when draco should be vulnerable, he was defensive and cold. you would’ve shot back at him with a quip remark but you knew what he was really trying to say. “draco..” you stepped closer to him, cupping his cheek. he didn’t look at you. “i don’t want potter. you know that. i want you. i only want you. i couldn’t imagine myself not being with you. harry is the least of your worries, believe me.” you said, all while caressing his face with your thumb. “this is gonna sound really stupid, but i’ve been hanging out with you less because i thought you didn’t want to be around me. i thought i was being too clingy. make sense?” you asked, now lowering your head. “no, that doesn’t make sense. why would i ever not want you to be around?” he said, lifting your head up with his fingers. “i don’t know...i guess i thought i was being too much of a burden? so i thought if i gave you some space it’s be good.” you shook your head. “but-“ “i know. it’s really stupid and rash. i just got insecure.” “i guess i got insecure, too.” he admitted. cracking, you flung your arms around him. he hugged back, fitting his face in the crook of your neck. “i care about you.” you said weakly. draco felt like crying. he didn’t know if it was from happiness or if it was from sadness, but he felt like crying. “do you wanna go to the dorms?” you asked, pulling away from the hug.” “yeah. i’d like that.”
you were holding draco so the side of his head was resting on your breasts, and your hands were tangled in his hair. “i really like you, draco. like, a lot.” you stammered as you said it. he looked up at you. “i realty like you too. i’m sorry i act like such an ass.” you chuckled and kissed his head. “dork.”
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hazelquartz · 3 years
Text
Rhapsody of a Veela part 54
Summary: The Christmas Holiday is approaching, but first Y/n has to attend Slughorns Christmas party. As Fred is unavailable due to the high demand of the holiday season at Weasley`s Wizarding Wheezes, Y/n decides to invite Draco instead. 
Pairings: Fred Weasley x Reader, Cedric Diggory x Reader, Draco Malfoy x Reade  x Reader / Yes I know, so many ships but still, this takes place over a few years so I think it`s fair.
Warnings: None, fluff, comedy a teeny tiny angst.
Word Count: 2k
Wattpad Link
Part.1 / Part.2 / Part.3 / Part.4 / Part.5 / Part.6 / Part.7 / Part.8 / Part.9 / Part.10 / Part.11 / Part.12 / Part.13 / Part.14 / Part.15 / Part.16 / Part.17 / Part.18 / Part.19 / Part.20 / Part.21 / Part.22 / Part.23 / Part.24 / Part.25 / Part.26 / Part.27 / Part.28 / Part.29 / Part.30 / Part.31 / Part.32 / Part.33 / Part.34 / Part.35 / Part.36 / Part.37 / part.38 / part.39 / part.40 / part.41 / part.42 / part.43 / part.44 / part.45 / part.46 / part.47 / part.48 / part.49 / part.50 / part.51 / part.52 / part.53 / part.55
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Part. 54 – Dragon Balls, Champagne, and Holiday Spirit
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                            December 1996
You did not think much of it as a small enveloped letter landed in your hands after being dropped off by an unfamiliar owl during breakfast in the great hall. You yawned as you opened it, seeing as it did not look like those sent by Fred – which were usually sealed by a doubled W&W in wax. Instead it looked rather plain, and it did not seem to contain any glitter bomb, fireworks or any sort of mischievous surprise either. When you read the short message inside twice however, your eyes opened wider.
“Beware of the full moon,
-Your Secret friend “
“What`s that, another prank letter from Fred?” Hermione asked by your side, as you nervously pushed the letter into your robes pocket.
“Something like that” you quickly said, all so you could avoid suspicion and further questions.
You knew what it was about, it was likely sent by the mercenary you had encountered, polyjuiced to look like Cedric and at another time, George, - you had never found out his true identity. He was warning you that Bellatrix Lestrange was not giving up on her wish to see you dead, and the fact that she was likely to send someone else to finish the job now that the mercenary was blackmailing her.
This was all still on your mind, as you entered the Gryffindor common room after a long and tiring day. Only to be approached by Harry Potter,
“I need to ask you something” he said, and the lump that grew in your stomach by the mere sight of his face foretold that it would be of something you did not wish to hear about, as you followed him to a corner where no one could hear,
Hermione looked up worried towards you, but after a moment of hesitation she turned back to her book, although you were sure she`d try to listen inn undetected even if she suspected she knew what it was about. Harry pushed his glasses further up his nose before he began, shiftily,
“You`re pretty close with Draco aren`t you?” he had an accusatory tone in his voice, it had not gone unnoticed that you had been so friendly with the enemy for all this time. Your confused look turned sour rather quickly,
“Used to be.. I suppose”
Your thoughts started racing back, to the exact moment it had all gone wrong. When you had stunned him in Umbridge`s office so he would not loose all credibility with his friends – or sometime earlier. Perhaps it was during the summer break, when he had finally uncovered the truth about your father. Even if he too had suspected it all along, everything was different the moment it was confirmed.
“Well, I think he`s up to something” Harry continued intently, and from the corner of your eye you could tell Hermione was shaking her head softly.
“Something bad” Harry added, coming a little closer as he whispered,
“I suspect he`s been initiated as a death eater, and-“
That was the moment he lost you, and you scoffed loudly. Accidentally catching the attention of the rest of the common room.
“Are you really that daft?” you hissed,
“Draco isn`t up to anything nefarious, can`t you tell he`s hurting?”
“Hurting or not, he`s up to something. I`m sure of it”
You rolled your eyes,
“I reckon it`s time you let go of this childish animosity”
“But-“
“I`m sure you have better things to worry about Harry, like..”
A grin suddenly fell over your face,
“Like..how to win over Ginny perhaps”
And Harry`s face turned a light shade of red as you left him there in the corner, joining Hermione where she sat in the couch in front of the fireplace. You could tell he tried his very best to not look towards the staircase to the girl’s dormitory, where Ginny descended with a heavy book in her hands.
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Unfortunately Fred had not been available for the date of Professor Slughorn`s Christmas party due to him being extremely busy with Weasley`s Wizard Wheezes in their very first Holiday Season. And so you had thought you`d end up having to go alone. A concept which sounded completely dreadful to you –as all you had on your mind was leaving for the holiday, to get to spend it at The Burrow. You had never spent Christmas there, in fact you had only ever spent it with Fred either at Hogwarts or Grimmauld Place in London.
So when you caught Draco wandering the hall late in the evening, the day before, you got the brilliant idea to invite him – platonically of course. Perhaps it would get his mind of all the darkness he was clearly dealing with all by himself, it was clear either way that a light-hearted party could not do him any harm. You were even sure he had probably desired at some point to be invited to the Slug-Club himself, even expecting it completely – only after his father was sent to Azkaban he had lost all promise to him in the eyes of Professor Slughorn.
“Evening, Draco” you smiled as warmly as you possibly could, even trying to put on some of that Veela charm in case it would make him more susceptible.
He turned to look at you, pale as ever. Mildly annoyed by the interruption of whatever he was doing or wherever he was going. But at least it was only you, and not anyone else.
“The curfew has started you know, you shouldn’t roam about the castle after nightfall” he replied curtly without as much as a greeting.
“Why? Are you going to dock some house points of me?” you teased, knowing very well he never would, despite being a prefect. Even back when he was the head of Umbridge`s tyrannical Inquisitorial Squad, he`d always rather get you out of trouble.
“Perhaps give me a detention?”
“Don`t tempt me” he stated, with a faint smile.
“What are you doing out anyway?”
“I could ask you the same thing” you laughed, but it seemed rather clear that he would in no way give any answer. You could not point out why, but there was something that seemed a little lighter about him than the last time you had talked.
“I actually wanted to ask you something though, you know Slughorn is throwing a Christmas Party tomorrow and-“
“I can`t” Draco interrupted you, with a grim look.
“Why not?” it slipped out of you, perhaps a little too curious than how it had sounded in your head.
“I just can`t” he repeated dismissively.
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When you entered Professor Slughorn`s office the next evening, you had to conclude that he had actually held back on his decoration skills during the Halloween Party, it was now even more magically excessive. Garlands hanging everywhere, and the ceiling was draped with emerald, crimson and gold hangings making it seem as if you were inside a large tent. From the centre of the ceiling there hung an ornate golden lamp, with real fluttering faeries casting a red glow. Mistletoes seemingly grew out of thin air wherever you stood too long, which meant you had to be on constant guard as you were attending alone. Hermione had gone with that sleazeball Cormac McLaggen, Ginny with Dean although it seemed they had recently been fighting again, and unfortunately as you looked across the room – Pansy Parkinson had found her way into the exclusive event yet again, thanks to her friend Blaise.
She grinned at you full of malicious intent, and you quickly turned and made your way through the crowds to shake her off.
Again, there were a lot of important guests attending the party. Celebrities and VIP`s of the Wizarding World, that Slughorn had gathered into his networking collection over the years. Star Level Quidditch players, Politicians, Lingui- Sanguini, the Vampire, an ancient looking wizard who`s white beard reached the floor, and even more interesting looking characters. A voluptuous Witch in a long glittery dress with big hair, who you thought you might have seen the picture of on one of Molly Weasley`s favourite records. Celestina was it? You could not recall her last name. But Slughorn quickly confirmed your suspicion as he approached her, gesturing with his arms at the importance of this particular guest.
“Ah! If it isn`t the Spectacular Singing Sorceress herself? Miss Warbeck how are you dear?”
You made a quick note that you needed to somehow get her autograph on a napkin before the night was over, as you could not imagine a more perfect Christmas gift to give your future mother in law.
A server offered you some strange looking finger-food from a plate, but the rotting scent averted you and you politely declined. Luna, who was Harry`s platonic date appeared and picked up a bite from it without hesitation, studying the mystery meat-ball up close before she smiled wide eyed at you.
“Dragon Balls are highly effective at keeping away the Nargels, it`s a good thing they serve them considering all the mistletoes hanging around” she explained dutifully, before taking a big bite. You were sure the stank was enough to keep anyone away.
“I`ll keep that in mind” you frowned, before stepping away yet again before a Ravenclaw student decided to take his shot at you with the mistletoe branch growing down from above you.
You grabbed a glass of Champagne from another servers plate, downing it with an instant, then grabbing another. Your cheeks started feeling a little warm as you made your way through the stuffy crowds, bumping into the back of a tall figure. When he turned around, you saw it was Sanguini – who`s bored looking face widened into a fanged grin the moment he recognised you.
“How lovely to meet you again, Miss Y/ln”
“Indeed, lovely” you muttered,
“Excuse me” as you pushed further through the crowd. You were starting to feel a little queasy. The moment you found an empty corner the relief were short-lived, as Pansy Parkinson approached you with a glass of champagne in hand.
“That`s a pretty dress you have there, half-breed. I can see it is the same you wore as last time” she snickered,
You sunk down into a chair behind you, you really did not feel like playing any of her spiteful games tonight.
“And you look a little warm, here, let me help you cool down” she frowned, reaching out her hand to empty her drink onto your lap, making you shriek and stand up. Your blood started boiling by her laughter, Blaise appearing behind her looking as bored and indifferent as ever.
“Cut it Pansy, or you`ll get me kicked out too” he warned her, grabbing her hand and dragging her away before anything escalated.
You sighed, discreetly grabbed the wand you had kept on you with a bridal like hosiery hold-up.
“Tergeo” you chanted, and the liquid quickly siphoned off your dress as if it had never really been spilled.
Just that moment, someone entered the office and you heard some light ruckus.
“I caught him sneaking around outside, probably trying to gate crash” you heard the voice of the ghastly care-taker Argus Filch, and pushed your way through the crowd to see if it was who you suspected.
“Let go of me!” Draco shouted, trying to get out his grip.
“He`s a student of my house, I`ll handle this” Snape announced abruptly, but you spoke quicker than you had thought,
“There you are Draco!”
“Kept me waiting all evening, have you? Well, as long as you`re here now that`s all that matters”
All eyes went on you, then back to Draco as Filch let him go.
“Oh, just a delightful misunderstanding!” Professor Slughorn laughed to ease the tension, “As long as Mr. Malfoy is a guest of Miss Y/ln, he is more than welcome to stay”
Snape backed down reluctantly, as Draco annoyedly grabbed your reached-out hand, playing along as you had saved him from trouble. As the party resumed and everyone seemed to forget about the scene, you handed Draco a glass of Champagne.
“You look like you could need a drink”
You ignored the looks not only sent by the likes of Pansy and Blaise, but also the highly suspicious one from Harry, as Draco thanked you tiredly.
Part.55 - Tis` the season to be Wary
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hufflepuffhollander · 3 years
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fire and gasoline (mob!tom series) ch. 1: new vendetta
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a/n | wooo buckle in this is a wild ride 😼 and pls share w the world! i’m proud of this one!
synopsis | Your family runs a sect of the british mafia. Tom Holland is the son of the mob leader in your rival gang. You’ve been groomed to be at each other’s throats for as long as you can remember, and a chance run-in after over a decade of feuding and secrecy has you questioning everything you thought you knew.
cw | mob!tom au. enemies to lovers. language, angst, death threats, objectification, sexual tension, and lots of spit. 3.1k words.
read the prologue, join the taglist :)
Roxy’s was your spot- it always had been. The dark alleyway entrance, the smoky air inside that concealed who you truly were, the faceless regulars that just knew to leave you be- it was everything you could want in a local bar. So, instead of somewhere a little cheerier, you chose here; instead of a glimmering club with strobe effects to blind you and music loud enough to burst your eardrums, you decided to spend your birthday where you knew you could melt into the blackness of the night and live mess-free, even if it was just for a few hours.
You had just gotten your second round of drinks with a few friends, your heels clicking from across the room as you wandered over to your table with freshly topped off shot glasses. A brand new, skin-tight black dress paired with electric blue heels adorned you, and the birthday glow radiating across your skin had you looking and feeling like absolutely nothing could bring you down. You were celebrating, you had just landed a major deal with a supplier to your casino; and better yet, you hadn’t heard from the Hollands in weeks. Since their failed attempt at taking out your father during a high-profile event, they had been lying low, full of shame. A recent victory for your family in the never-ending turf war with the Hollands? Not a single mention of Dom or Nikki thwarting your plans in days? Well, that was the best birthday present a girl could ask for. 
You barely had time to feel the gin roll down your throat before the bar door was shoved open, bells tied in a knot overhead chiming ominously as it felt like a tornado had blown in. The room fell quiet, the punkish music on repeat seeming to mute itself. Even the smoke moving through the air was put on pause. Everyone was eyeballing the doorway, where two heavily armed young men stood rigidly; right behind them, a pale, muscular boy with the scent of his own ego radiating off him, a slick smile painted across his face. Every part of your body suddenly felt ice cold.
The boy took off his glasses, the sheer notion that he was wearing wayfarers at night making you groan, and coated the room with his gaze until it landed—and stayed—on you. You tried to avert your attention but couldn’t, as a wave of realization fell over you when he made eye contact. You knew this fuckwad. It was Tom Holland- the son of your rival mob, the boy your father always told you to imagine a target was when learning to sharpshoot...the one who had orchestrated the failed assassination of your dad. Your belly filled with a white-hot fire at the audacity he had to show his face here. Who did he think he was? What the hell was he doing on the East side? And did he know he had just walked into his own execution?
You would’ve seen it through, too, had he not been about to strike you square in the face with a curveball.
“We’re closed.” you heard Roxy spit out, not even bothering to look at the boys as she dried a glass.
“Doesn’t seem like it, babe,” Tom sneered, flashing her an insincere smile and focusing his attention back on you. “And anyway, we aren’t staying; I just came here with a message for the birthday girl.”
You fantasized about a knife appearing on the table in front of you so you could slice the little bitch to shreds for even daring to acknowledge you. But no such luck.
Tom whisked past the bar front, taking his time to saunter over towards your booth. You had bribed your security guard to let you take the night off- he was only there because of your dad’s doing, so he could breathe easier when you were out of his sight. But you hated feeling like a little kid needing to be babysat, especially tonight, when you were turning a year older, and paid him off to get doped up with a friend instead of coming with you. You were kicking yourself for that decision now, watching Tom come up to you without a hint of fear in his dark, shimmering eyes. 
You hadn’t seen him since you were kids, when you had told everyone you were getting married to the cute boy you played with and exchanged candy rings with him in your backyard.
“My my, what an impressive array of barbies,” Tom laughed as he stopped in front of your table, swiping his tongue across his teeth. “any of you pretty things looking to blow this joint?” 
Your few friends looked simultaneously revolted and terrified, and you knew they lived their lives too sugarcoated to witness the interaction you were about to have. 
“Girls, you should leave,” you said, giving them a concerned stare, and it took them less than a second to get up and bolt. Some real friends you had.
You tried to remain composed as you turned your attention to Tom, syllables seething through your gritted teeth. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” 
“Aww, baby, that’s no way to greet an old friend, is it? ‘Coulda least let me wish you a happy birthday,” he sat down on the bench across from you, making you recoil into your seat. “I even have a candle you can blow, if you like.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, asshole.”
“Well someone just isn’t feeling very sentimental, hmm? You remember all those years ago, playing hide and go seek in your mansion, holding hands under the dinner table...I think I remember you having it pretty bad for me back then-”
“You must have a death wish, huh?” you cut him off, standing up and advancing towards him, but taking a step back as he stood up to meet you and towered over you menacingly. He smelled like cigar smoke and cherry aftershave and it clouded your thoughts. You’d always said you’d kill him if he ever got this close to you. Why were you faltering now when it mattered most? Your heart couldn’t keep up with your head.
“No, doll. Not tonight, and definitely not in a place like this. But I gotta admit, I was not expecting you to look so fucking good after all these years. Pop had me believing you were some kind of ugly recluse. Makes it extra difficult for me to tell you to give daddy a call before your birthday is over,” his eyes hungrily flicked over you in your dress, making your blood boil. “y’know, tell him you love him.”
“The hell are you talking about?” you reached for your purse where your pistol was lodged, but felt a cold piece of metal touch the back of your head, halting your movements.
“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” said minion #1, standing behind you with the barrel of his gun nestled into your curled hair. You swallowed nervously and felt your heart rate skyrocket. The bar seemed to have emptied out; it was just you, Tom, and the promise of death caressing your scalp, and you had nowhere to go.
“Hey, now, Harrison, there’s no need for that! y/n and I go way back,” Tom said, motioning for his friend to lower the weapon. Deeply buried flashbacks of child you linked arm in arm with child Tom flicked through your mind, memories you had suppressed long ago.
“Love,” Tom started, advancing towards you again, leaving you nowhere to go if you didn’t want gun grease staining your head. “I’m simply hinting that you may want to get out any last sentiments before we bleed him out on his crisp white sheets tonight.”
Your eyes widened in panic, and your words came out stuttered. “Y-you’re bluffing-”
“You so sure of that, baby?” He clicked his tongue against his teeth, leaning his head in so his face was only inches from yours. “You tellin’ me you know he’s safe and sound right now? Or does an itty, bitty part of you think that maybe, when his baby girl and best insurance policy went out for drinks, it left his ass dangling out in the open, just begging to get capped?”
Your nostrils flared and your teeth were clenched so hard together that you were sure they’d break, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t fight. You were stuck in the space of Tom as his cool breath violated your cheeks, suddenly picturing violent images of your family in a pool of blood.
Your eyebrows raised with each syllable you spoke, trying your best to conceal the incredible stress eating at you from the inside. “Get...the fuck...out of my face.”
Tom did something that almost made you combust then, swiping his thumb across the bottom of your chin, grinning, and blowing a smooch at you before finally drawing back. The sound of his lips smacking together lingered in your ears, like he not only had total control of you, but of all the soundwaves in the air.
“Look, I thought I was doing you a favor, giving you the heads up and all...I definitely didn’t have to. So if you wanna be an ungrateful little bitch about it, fine,” he stepped back, sitting down in the booth again and casually propping his feet up on the seat opposite. “don’t call him. I don’t fucking care.”
With a path to the door finally freed, you began to calculate your next move in your head, but Tom seemed to have violated your thoughts, too.
“Nuh-uh,” he tsked, looking off to the door and giving a nod as minion #2 locked it into place and stood with his arms crossed in front of it like the world’s least intimidating bouncer. “You really think we’d come all this way to tell you we’re about to kill daddy and then just let you, what, leave? Run home to his rescue?” he scoffed at the mere thought, and his worker bees in black laughed along with him. Tom gave you an infinitely objectifying once-over. “Like you’d make it that far in those heels.”
“I’d like to see them off,” one of his men said, prompting Tom to violently curse at him.
“Don’t you fucking dare talk about her like that, Harry. She’s not yours.” He was acting like some protective owner of you, which only made you angrier as you felt a dull electricity appear in your stomach.
The alcohol already in your system mixed with the adrenaline coursing through your veins made you feel fiery, out of control, erratic. You weren’t sure if you wanted to lunge at him or cry, the sting of worry pinpricking your eyelids as Tom’s smirk stayed put.
“What do you want?” you resigned, looking down and away from him, leaning against the wall behind you for support. You didn’t want to cave, but you couldn’t help it- you were paralyzed, fight or flight response warring with itself.
Tom shrugged, remaining nonchalant. “Just bragging rights, really,” he picked up an arm and ran his fingers through his tousled hair, his oversized platinum watch catching the light as he did it.
You were able to regain some composure as you responded, remembering who you were, knowing that your family could hold its own. You took a few paces forward in an attempt reclaim your pride. “Slim chance. You’d never be able kill him anyway, you pathetic excuse of a television criminal,” you spat out, seeing Tom’s expression falter just enough to spur you on. “You’re not the only one who knows things, y’know, I’ve learned all about you, too. All bark and no bite. A puppy who acts tough until he gets a paper cut and cowers under the bed.” you could feel your confidence refueling your words, and narrowed your eyes. “Maybe you were intimidating as a kid, but you don’t fucking scare me now, Holland.”
Upon the callout, Tom bolted up from his seat, swiftly pulling a handheld gun out of his belt and backing you up against the wall, barrel aimed at the perfect angle to blaze a clean hole through your head. “You little-”
Thankfully, you had friends on this side of town, and Roxy always had your back.
She tore out of the back with an assault rifle twice the size of her, firing a round of warning shots into the rickety ceiling. It shook Tom’s focus enough for you to make a break for it, running and ducking behind the safety of the bar.
“You better get to leaving before I have to mop you greasy motherfuckers off my floor,” Roxy said in her thick cockney accent, looking as intimidating as you’d ever seen her. Tom sniggered and stayed put.
“You think I’m joking?” she said, aiming at the wooden boards and landing a shot barely an inch from one of his friends’ feet. 
“Jesus-!” they yelped, forcing you to stifle a laugh as you watched the scene unfold.
Three very oversized men walked out from the back of the room with their own weapons of choice to back Roxy up. Seeing they’d been outnumbered, Tom retracted his gun and looked warily at his friends, grouping up to leave the bar. He saw you backed in the corner and took an extra moment to let that cocky sneer find its way back to his face, making sure to remind you why you ran in the first place.
The group walked out unscathed, leaving behind a deafening silence until Roxy looked back at you and shook you from your trance.
“Go home, babes, and make sure your family is okay.”
As you ran outside against your better judgement, eyes locked on your car parked in the alley, an abraisive pair of hands grabbed you from behind and pushed you up against the side of the building. You recognized the sickly sweet smell of cherries and knew Tom wasn’t finished with you.
He had his arm up over your head and the other on your shoulder, evidently taking in all of your features for the first time in years.
“Time did you well, didn’t it? My god, can’t believe my little kid wife grew up to be so pretty,” his eyes sparkled with a twisted, deep desire. “We’d look good together in different circumstances, hm?” His words prompted you to spit in his face.
“In your fucking dreams.”
“Ooh, a feisty little thing. I’d watch that temper of yours, y/n, you’ll make a lot of enemies talking like that,” he said in a low voice, collecting your spit from his cheek and sucking it off of his finger.
“We’re friends forever, darling. I’ll find my way back to you.” he winked at you and sauntered away into the dark. “Say hi to daddy for me.”
Your foot on the gas pedal made an indentation on the floor of the car as you sped home, tears almost blinding you from the road, making every streetlight overhead look like an abstract explosion of color. You left the ignition on as you careened into the gated entrance of your house, kicking your blue heels into the grass and sprinting inside, yelling. “Dad? Mum? Hello???”
You almost ran head first into your parents as they rushed out of the den after hearing your exasperated calls.
“y/n? What the bloody hell is going on?” your mother saw you standing shell-shocked, taking in the fact that they weren’t chopped into pieces, and pulled you into a hug as you broke out into uncontrollable sobs.
“T-they locked me in and told me they were- that you’d be dead when I got home-” you choked out in between tears, unable to calm your breathing. 
Your dad gripped his tumbler of scotch with so much sudden anger that it shattered into his hand. You could see fire in his eyes. “Who? Who told you that?”
You looked up at him and said exactly what he was expecting. “The Hollands. Tom. He- he came into Roxy’s.”
“I’m going to hang that chav from his wimpy little fucking-”
“Hon, please.” your mom said sternly while motioning to you in your sorry state, making your dad’s face a little less violently red. He took a deep, ragged breath.
“Hey, sweet pea, look,” he said, tucking away a strand of hair that had fallen in your face and was clinging to your tear-streaked cheeks. “We’re okay, alright? Tonight is an ordinary night, and our security detail is the best in the city. You stop worrying and go get yourself cleaned up, mum and I have something special we want to give you.” He smiled only to steam off and slam the door to his office, most likely to make a call to get someone, anyone, that may have had a hand in tonight’s events drawn and quartered by dawn.
You came downstairs after a long, boiling hot shower that only made you seethe more at the fact that Tom had been bluffing the whole time. It had clearly just been a fear tactic, probably done for no other reason than to fuck with you on your birthday and ruin your night. He loved crafting little games like that, this being the first time he’d come to play in person—and what made you angriest is that it had worked.
“Honey, we have a gift for you,” your mom said, handing you a silver box that was much heavier than it looked. She and your dad sat on the big sofa in the den, looking at you expectantly.
“Well, open it!” she smiled.
You undid the box, hands still shaking from earlier, and found a shiny, pitch black glock with a silver inscription in its body reading “sweet pea”, the nickname your dad had given you forever ago.
“Uh, wow, I don't know what to say...” you trailed off, picking it up and turning it over in your hand. It became surprisingly weightless, feeling like it was made to fit in your palm.
“It was mine, back in the day,” your dad spoke, seeming wistful. “Had it rebuilt and shined up for my baby girl.”
“Thank you, daddy, I love it,” you said, leaning over to hug your parents. You smiled blankly as they talked to you about the gift and how special it was, nodding at their comments...but you weren’t really listening.
All you could think about was a pair of flushed lips inches from your own, an intoxicating smell lingering in your brain; and just how amazing this gun would feel in your hand right after it had burned a bullet-sized cavity into Tom Holland’s chest.
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callsign-mischief · 4 years
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Nothing Like Quidditch in the Summer
Day 30 of ‘A Very Harry Potter Summer!’
@hufflefluff-writer  @kalimagik
A/N: I have been struggling a lot recently in finding the motivation write but I pushed myself to get this writing finished on time and I’m happy with what I came up with. I hope everyone truly enjoys this! 
Word Count: 1.4K
Oliver Wood x Female!Reader
During any other Summer holiday being asked to join in on some fun summer Quidditch time wouldn't be such a bad thing; you loved the magical sport and were always up for keeping your skills sharp, but this summer?  Being asked to train with your teammate and boyfriend who happens to be none other than Oliver Wood? Oh boy! Quidditch in the summer had never been more un-fun. While you loved him more than anyone in the world, he often took practice to extreme levels and pushed not only himself too far, but you as well.
It was just like any other day, you were out on the makeshift quidditch pitch in his backyard under the scorching sun, sweating from places that you didn’t know you could sweat from. ‘A nice big glass of ice cold water would be perfect right about now. If only Oliver would let me take a small rest and then I could-’
“(Y/N)! C’mon now lass, focus!”
You peer down to the hovering boy a couple feet below you with a pout. “Oliver this is torture! We’ve been out here for hours and it’s boiling! I’m practically melting here! Love, I need REST! Sustenance! We’ve been pushing ourselves way too much recently and-.”
“Only a couple more drills and then you can have your break.” 
You couldn’t help the angry scoff that rolled out from your mouth, “You said that two and a half hours ago! Just give me a minute, please?” you plead.
“I really mean it this time. Only a couple of more of these plays and you can have all the break time you want, I pinky promise darlin’,truly! ” The audacity of this man. Using my special promises.
With a huff you wipe the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand and take a deep breath in before quickly giving him the go-ahead to call out the next drill he was having you fly through.‘The quicker I get through these flight patterns he’s been firing at me left and right, the quicker I get what I want, that is how this should work, right?’ The teammate side of you was quickly regretting saying yes to Oliver’s request to join his training this summer but the girlfriend side of you couldn’t help but accept his invitation. Just how could you have said no to those big adorable puppy dog eyes of his?
“This next one is more of an individual exercise. I designed it specifically for you chasers but now that I think about it...it really could be more of a full team thing and- never mind that right now! Anyways, here it is…” he begins rambling on about what he had come up with and how it came to be but the only thing you could focus on was how weird you began to feel. Shrugging it off you, you advert your attention back to him catching the ending of his tangent. With a nod of your head you steady yourself before taking off. 
Oliver had timed your flight but with the results not being where he liked, he had you repeat the exercise again. “Try willing yourself to fly faster this time. Try getting your time under a minute. Remember, push! You can do this.”
Although you are ready to hex the daylights out of him, you indulged him anyway. ‘You’re lucky that you’re cute Wood.’
Going again, you push yourself to go faster as Oliver requested but in the middle of weaving between the enchanted cones that were floating in the sky with you, you were starting to feel the full extent of your exhaustion hitting you full force. Your head begins to spin making your vision blur and your eyes feel heavier than lead. Before you can comprehend what is happening, you feel yourself slipping from your broom. 
From the other side of his yard, Oliver watched with a proud smile on his face as you flew through the air, whizzing around his obstacles with precise speed and agility. Although he had never actually expressed it aloud, he was more than beyond thankful for you putting up with him and his long days out in the sun perfecting the improved quidditch program he had put together for his last year at Hogwarts. Before he could spend any more time gazing at you with admiration, he watched as you slipped from your broom mid flight. His face twists into a look of horror before he kicks into action, racing to save you before you can hit the ground. 
By the grace of Merlin himself, he makes it across the yard just in time to seize you but with the sudden addition of extra weight atop his own broom, you both crash to the earth below you. With a groan of pain, Oliver takes the brunt of the landing due to shielding your slightly limp figure. He quickly and carefully sits up, moving you onto the ground beside him so he can check you over. Your face was clammy and flushed an awfully unnatural shade of red, your eyes half opened with an almost vacant expression; it looked like you were dead! When he could hardly see the rise and fall of your chest, that was when then panic really began to sink in.
“(Y/N)! (Y/N) sweetheart, are you alright?! Hey, hey, look at me, I’m right here. Can you see me?”
  While everything was slightly muffled in sound, you could see everything staring down at you slowly becoming clearer by the second.The bright clear sky, the bright rays of the beating sun... Oliver’s beautiful brown eyes filled with worry.
You give your eyes a couple of good slow blinks and with a gentle nod of your head, you silently let him know that yes, you can see him. He lets a small sigh of relief, reaching over to your shoulders to slowly sit you up.  Once completely upright, you space out for a quick moment attempting to rid your head free of it's fuzziness. Glancing over to him again, you see his eyes are zeroed in on yours and his lips are moving. 
“W-what?” you croaked. 
He slowly repeated his question, “I asked you what happened? You were doing so well and the next thing I know, you were falling.”
A sigh escaped your lips, “I was trying to push myself harder like you told me. With the combination of the heat which, mind you, is completely intolerable, exhaustion from these constant vigorously long days, and not eating since early this morning, my body just gave up.  I suppose it knew that I was mentally and physically worn out and in need of a timeout.”
He looks away with a scowl, his heart shattering. “You said you needed to take a rest but I just pushed it off and look at what happened!” His head whips back ‘round to you as he grabs at your hands, clutching them in his much larger ones. “I’m so sorry that I have been wearing you thin this week and I’m even more so for just now realizing it. I'm probably the worst boyfriend in the world right now.” he seethed. 
“It’s okay Oliver. I’m okay, really, my body just isn’t used to this level of intensive training just yet” you give him a sweet smile, gently squeezing his hand. He leaned into you, giving you a tender loving kiss on the cheek before pulling away.
“So..” you begin, “before we get back on the brooms, how about we go dig into that lunch your mum left us?” you give him a gentle but tired smile. 
Your handsome boyfriend stares blankly at you like you had just grown three new heads. “Excuse me? Get back on the brooms? No. No way are we doing that. Quidditch for you, little lady, is canceled for the rest of the day and in fact, the rest of the summer.” He helps you to your feet before wrapping his strong arms around you lifting you bridal style to carry you back across the vast yard towards his home to settle down and rest for the remainder of the hot summer’s day. 
Oh, how you loved this overprotective man. “But I thought- what if I-”
“ No, I mean it. For the rest of the summer, quidditch is canceled.”
Wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you, you couldn’t help but smirk at his statement and use the same words he spoke to Professor McGonagall this previous school year against him. “You can’t cancel quidditch!”
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ptergwen · 3 years
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sensation
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w/c: 4.6k
warnings: some swearing, suggestive tings, and a pretty bad ending
summary: it’s the last night of your world tour, and tom has the perfect way to celebrate
a/n: i know y’all have been waiting for this one! everyone really loved when worlds collide but i ran out of ideas for it lol sorry... anyways my solution was to turn it into a oneshot :D based off the au!! i’m honestly nervous about posting this cuz a lot of you asked for it and i don’t wanna disappoint but i tried my absolute hardest to make it special <3 please enjoy
-
“thank you so much! we love you!” you shout to the audience, laughing breathlessly when they shout back. one of your dancers pulls you into a side hug, you throwing your arm around his neck. “we’re so fucking lucky you chose us, that you came all the way here. i’ve seen some of you back at night one. wow.” your voice gets wobbly, thinking about how loyal your fans are.
the tour started in new york, and they’ve followed you here to london.
tonight is an emotional night for everyone. you’re about to wrap your last show before you continue again in the summer. touring the u.k. has been a dream, and you’re just as thrilled to travel the rest of the world after your break. it’s bittersweet because you’re going to miss the hell out of your crew and the millions of lovely faces you’ve sang to each week. but, you do get to spend your time off with a special someone.
he’s watching you from the sound booth, sending fond smiles and loud cheers your way. thanks to you, tom has been at every show you’ve played in england. he brought harry along this time because he’s also a fan and wanted to see you. well, tom is more than a fan at this point. you’d say he’s more of a boyfriend. you haven’t discussed labels just yet.
your dates have mainly been over facetime, since you live on opposite sides of the world with insane schedules. a heartthrob actor and international popstar is quite the combination. you’ve only seen each other in person a couple of times, the first being pretty recently.
zendaya brought tom along to hang out with you in los angeles. he happened to be there recording some lines for a movie. she saw your concert earlier that night and invited him to crash the dinner plans you’d made, resulting in the best surprise and most fun you’ve ever had. the other time you enjoyed each other’s company was one weekend in paris. that was... something.
besides those two miracles, everything between you and tom happens through a screen. you’ll down bottles of champagne or keep warm under blankets while talking about your days. it’s nice, having someone on the other end who listens and actually hears you. tom gets it. you both do.
finishing your tour in london is convenient because not only will you have tom to comfort you, but you get to stick around for a while. he’s invited you to stay at his place. you can’t wait to meet the other holland’s, his friends, and obviously tessa.
“fuck, i’m gonna cry. i’m already crying,” you announce to the crowd, though they can tell from the tears streaming down your face. more dancers huddle around you and turn your single hug into a group one. you’re laughing and sobbing and holding on tight to everyone. fans bawl their own eyes out, the fact that this is it starting to settle in. the onstage crew even gets choked up, seeing you like this.
tom pouts from where he’s watching. he wishes he could run up there and squeeze you tight, but he’ll have to save that for when you’re done.
“i love you all so much, literally every single one of you in this room,” you tell everyone for the nth time tonight, swiping a perfectly manicured finger under your eyes. “my lighting crew, sound crew, my band, my fearless fucking dancers-“ a hiccup cuts you off. people burst into fits of giggles, which is a much needed tension breaker. you adjust your headset so the mic doesn’t pick up any other bodily noises.
grinning, you rest your arm on a shorter dancer’s shoulder, then go on. “sorry, sorry. i just wanna say, like, three more thank you’s before i get out of here.” there’s a chorus of no’s and encouraging whistles at the mention of you leaving. you blink back more tears to delay the breakdown you’re going to have. “thank you to my friends who always show up for me.”
with a knowing smile, you glance over at tom. “and, thank you to my more than a friend.” he smiles back, both hands held over his heart. harry elbows him in congratulations. more screaming erupts from the crowd as they realize where you’re looking and who you’re looking at. this will be sure to spark some headlines. whatever, you’re used to trending on every possible social media platform by now.
“this is the big one,” you preface, taking in a breath while everyone quiets down again. “thank you to you guys. for trusting me, for caring about what i have to say in any way. i feel your love. i really do, and i hope you feel mine.” your fans yell that they love you back, dancers gently swaying you side to side, emotions on high. there’s one last song, and it’s over.
“this has been the sensation tour, and i’ve been your host. was i good?” you try to lighten the mood, earning a bunch of what sound like positive shrieks. the earpiece you have in makes it hard to tell. “y’all were even better.” exchanging looks with your dancers, you pull out of the hug so you can get to your mark for the finale. they follow your lead. music comes through the speakers.
“i’ll see you again soon, okay? i promise. here’s sensation,” you introduce the song, immediately bursting into more tears. it’s torture to say goodbye. thankfully, you have the most incredible fans on earth, so they sing along with you at the top of their lungs. that includes tom and harry, your ultimate stans.
when the show is over, you run right off stage and over to tom. he’s waiting on the side with actual heart eyes for you. you practically leap into his arms, a hand cradling the back of his head, both his arms draped low and tight around your body.
“you were so amazing up there! absolutely smashed it, darling,” tom breathes out. his face is smushed between your neck and mostly bare chest. “thanks, tom. seriously, thanks for being here tonight and every other.” you smile a tired smile and wind your other arm around his neck. he presses some light you’re welcome kisses to your skin. “mm, thanks for having me. how’s it feel to be done?”
you sigh, fingers running through his curls. “like the biggest relief, and also really sad.” you’re such a mess that you could cry again on the spot. tom senses it and lifts his head up to see if you’re alright. “super depressing,” you surprisingly reiterate without the waterworks. “i know the feeling. you’ll be back soon, though. you said it,” he murmurs, a grin on his lips as they brush against the corner of yours.
you’re about to kiss him properly, then one of your dancers comes up to you. you’d forgotten that there are still stage managers and security everywhere, too. you get completely lost in tom whenever you’re together.
“you killed, babe,” coco greets you, linking your arm in hers. tom takes the hint and lets go of you. he watches on with a smirk. “nah, you murdered,” you send the compliment back and bite your lower lip. “i dunno, i feel like someone murdered me!” there’s coco with her dramatics. she’s genuinely hilarious, your shared sense of humor playing a huge part in your friendship.
she brings your free hand to her heart. you gasp at how fast it’s going. “that shit is really beating, coco. are you, like, okay?” “probably not. it was the freestyle that got me.” coco went a lot harder than usual tonight, since it was her last big dance break for a while. she puffs air from her cheeks and nods to tom. “this your man?”
“yeah, you could say that. i’m tom,” he answers, holding out a hand for her. “coco.” she pulls it like you would in a handshake. you beam at them, one of your best friends and unofficial boyfriend finally meeting. “sounds promising. i approve,” coco mutters to you. bumping your hip into hers playfully, you take one of tom’s hands in both of yours.
“aw, we have your blessing or something? your permission?” you coo and get a push at your shoulder from coco in return. tom chuckles, his thumb running over the back of your hand. “no! i was gonna say you should bring him out back,” coco clarifies, like it was obvious. you’re not sure what she’s on about. “uh, what’s out back?” you question. “an axe?” tom teases.
coco gestures to the nearest exit. “we’re having a little goodbye party in the parking lot. fire pit, snacks. remember?” nope, you’d completely forgotten. the idea first sounded like the perfect way to end your night, so you agreed to go. that was before you were dripping sweat and mentally exhausted. now, all you want to do is unwind with tom and tom only.
the superstar life is one you’re happy to lead, just not at this exact moment.
“i do now.” you muster up your most apologetic smile for coco, tugging on tom’s hand. “i’m sorry, co. i think we’re gonna pass.” her jaw drops. you’re never one to skip these things. “aw, for real? it’s our last night!” tom threads his fingers through yours while you talk. “bro, we’ve been together for almost a whole year,” you laugh out, nuzzling your cheek into tom’s chest. “get sick of me.”
“never,” coco deadpans. she catches you gazing up at tom, relaxing as his arms hug your middle. she’s known you long enough to tell what’s a fling and what’s real love for you. this is something special, and she can’t get in the way of it. she’ll let you navigate this yourself. “ok, just for tonight. you’ll text me?” coco gives you a real smile, raising an eyebrow at tom. he gathers that’s a good thing. he’s in.
“mhm. maybe we can hang out tomorrow,” you agree and let your eyes flutter shut. all that’s keeping you up are tom’s strong arms. “tell everyone i love them.” “i think they know.” coco shakes her head lightheartedly. tom laughs at her. “be good,” she tells him and means it, rubbing your back on her way to the lot. that leaves you and tom alone at last.
custodians are cleaning up the arena, fans are piling out, and you’re clinging to tom while his steady heartbeat grounds you. this is the only after party you need.
“harry’s got the car when you’re ready,” tom mumbles, tucking a piece of damp hair behind your ear. you loop your arms around his torso with a hum. “i was kinda wondering where he went.” “yeah?” he gives you a small smile. “gotta ask what he thought... of the show.” yawns are creeping past your lips, tonight’s events catching up to you.
“i like feedback from the fans, or stans,” you elaborate in your sleepy state. tom uses his fingertips to tap your temple. “what about me? i’m your biggest.” “i’ll, um, follow up with you later.” your words are slurring. “right now, home.” warmth spreads throughout tom’s entire body, his house becoming yours for a bit. “your chariot awaits,” he affirms before helping you to your dressing room.
after collecting your things, you follow tom out to the car. harry is in the driver’s seat, and you two slip into the back. he exchanges a look with his brother through the mirror while you settle on his shoulder. you’re hugging his bicep, his lips pressing to the side of your head.
“thank you for driving,” you speak softly to harry. he starts to pull out of the spot with a nod. “no problem. get to say i was y/n y/l/n’s chauffeur.” tom clicks his tongue even though harry is joking. you snicker at his remark, joking back. “you want the job? better be a five star ride, then.” your banter brings yet another smile to tom’s face. his family is everything to him, so seeing you get along so well means the most.
“right, right. did you have a good time?” harry wonders, twisting to see behind him while he turns around. he also peeks at you snuggled up to tom before facing forward. “great, actually. did you?” you check, the grin clear in your voice. harry goes into full stan mode. “no shit! you were brilliant, y/n. god, every note was just like how you did it the studio.” he’s raving, which is much appreciated by you.
“good answer.” tom shoots his brother a wink. “‘s that what you wanted to hear?” he asks in reference to your conversation earlier. your response is a kiss to his shoulder. “yay. i’m happy you liked it, harry.” he buzzes with excitement, having his favorite artist care what he thinks.
not much is said for the rest of the drive. tom and harry make some hushed conversation about golfing this weekend while you struggle to stay awake. they’re obsessed with that damn sport. it’s honestly nice to see, that tom has something he likes to do when he isn’t shooting hollywood’s biggest movies. your free time will finally give you the chance to discover other hobbies.
you stumble out of the car upon arriving to the boys’ place, a backpack on your shoulders and tom’s hand held tight in yours. you’ve got only a few essentials with you for tonight. the rest is on the tour bus, so you’ll gather it after your hangout with coco. besides, everything you need at the moment is right here.
“home sweet home,” tom announces as harry unlocks the front door. his words bring a tired smile to your face. “finally,” you exhale, keeping your fingers laced with tom’s and following the two of them inside. “i could show you around a bit, give you the grand tour. or-“ tom stops talking, feeling your weight on him. harry huffs at how oblivious his brother is.
“mate, she’s falling over. save it,” he suggests and kicks the door shut lazily. you’re done in. you’ve been having to lean on tom since the show ended. “another time, then,” tom mumbles, securing his arm around your waist. “there is one thing i wanna see.” your voice is low, body curled into tom’s side. he raises an eyebrow. “and that is?” “your room.”
tom takes that in a suggestive way, like he does most things. “we’re getting right to it, are we?” he questions, harry gagging and you nudging his arm with your head. “not like that, dummy. ‘cuz i’m sleepy.” there’s a beat of silence. “ask me again in-“ “wow, look at the time!” harry interrupts so he doesn’t have to hear the details. he’s sure he’ll witness enough after it happens. “off to bed i go! goodnight.”
he rushes to get to his room, yelling out, “great show, y/n!” on the way. “thank you! night!” you call back, tom letting out a sigh. “div of the century,” he says under his breath. “must run in the family,” you playfully retort. that gets you a firm poke at your side. “where’s everyone else?” you glance up at him. there should be two other idiots and a lovely, furry lady running around.
“tuwaine’s gone to the pub, harrison’s filming late, and tess is at mum and dad’s,” tom fills you in, grabbing your arm and draping it around his middle. doing him one better, you hug him with both. you squint in confusion about the last part. “they watch her when i’m out,” tom answers your unspoken question. “ah,” you nod, then deflate ever so slightly. “i wanted to meet her, though. the other boys, too.”
tom smooths the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “you will, darling. it’s only for tonight.” he kisses the same spot reassuringly. “we’ve got loads of time.” “yeah, we do,” you agree, instantly cheering up and letting your head fall onto his chest. “now, where’s your room?” “just upstairs. you need some help getting in?” he’s only playing around, but you accept, tightening your arms around his neck.
“show me the way,” you beam at him. “happy to.” tom wiggles his eyebrows, you jumping up. your legs wrap around his waist, his arms holding you against him. with a satisfied hum, you squish your face into his insanely soft shirt. “what a diva,” tom sarcastically complains while taking you to the staircase. “doesn’t even say please. no manners from this one.”
“you try dancing in six inch heels for two hours,” you shoot back, patting the side of his neck. he moves one hand down to your thigh for a better grip. you’re nearing the top of the stairs. “think i’ll leave that to you,” he decides and squeezes your thigh. “look at me, carrying the whole music industry.” your face easily gets hot and your words turn to murmurs. “shut up. you should listen to other songs.”
you’re on the second floor now, tom going for the first door. he frowns at his rejected compliment. “no, i like yours. they’re my favorite.” “really?” your muffled laugh sounds from his chest. “what was the first thing i ever said to you?” he asks, a toothy grin on him even though you can’t see it. you recall the faithful night he slid into your dms while he carries you into his room.
he’d tripped over his words somehow, the fangirling fool. before that, he tweeted to the whole world that he wanted to see you in concert. it was a huge thing, and people were freaking out about it, even more so when your online interactions became routine. that’s nothing compared to where you are now.
you’re currently living with him and basically dating. possibly, in love. the base of it all really is your music.
“that you love me.” you pause for the ellipses. the corners of your lips turn up. “but, you really meant to say my work.” “both apply.” tom passes that off like it’s a side comment, carefully laying you down on his bed. you look up at him with a curious glint in your eyes. “what does that mean?” his cheeks flush, and he bites back the smile that’s growing. this was supposed to go... differently.
you sit up, breathing out a laugh at tom’s boyish behavior. he’s precious, truly. “you do love me?” those three words will change everything if he says yes. he takes both your hands in his and holds them between you two. you meet his doe eyes. “yeah, y/n/n. i do.” so, you were right. “i love you... and, that wasn’t how i planned on saying it.” signaling for him to elaborate, you tilt your head to the side.
tom sits down next to and faces you before continuing. “it was supposed to be romantic, right?” he rolls his eyes up to the ceiling, annoyed he ruined this. “candlelit dinner, flowers, that sort of thing. seems more fitting for the occasion.” you shift closer to him until your knees are touching. your face is lit up, voice dropped to almost a whisper.
“since when do we do things the way we’re supposed to?” you point out and set your hands on his shoulders. “we’ve gone straight from online dating to me moving in. that’s usually not how it works.” tom chuckles lowly. his own hands find their place on your hips. you’re so good with words. then again, you are a singer. “guess you could say we’re, um, spontaneous,” he agrees, fingers drawing circles on you.
you and tom have explored some of each other’s most intimate places, yet you’ve never shared a moment quite like this. it’s like meeting him for the first time again. he’s too tongue tied to spit out what he wants. you somehow know, anyway. what you cherish most about your relationship is that you two completely and totally understand one another, on every level.
“tom?” you speak quietly, butterflies filling up your body. “hm?” he hums back. this is one of those moments where it all just clicks. “i love you. i really, really love you.” you giggle out of the pure happiness that consumes you, tom joining in your laughter. “i love you, too.” he sounds like he’s said it a million times and he’ll say it a million more. he leans over so his forehead rests on yours. “really, really love you.”
your warm breath hits his face, eyes darting from his own to his lips. “i want you to be more than...” you trail off, unsure of how to phrase it. “more than... more than a friend?” tom pokes fun at what you said during the show. there’s less and less space between you with every second. “you mean, like, a boyfriend?”
“exactly. be my boyfriend,” you all but demand. you’re half asleep and desperate to be able to call him yours already. “bossy, bossy, bossy,” tom chastises, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. how he goes from being shy and giddy to the cockiest person alive in minutes, you’ll never know. “please?” you throw in to sway him. your hand locks with his, slowly moving it off your face.
you run your tongue over your teeth. “at least kiss me.” “you don’t have to ask,” tom breathes, lips now ghosting over yours. “i was going to.” true to his words, he closes the microscopic gap between you, you pushing forward against him as you kiss back. your first kiss in love. his lips taste like the chapstick he always uses, and he moves them softly.
he places a hand on your knee, you opening your mouth so he can have access to it. instead, a yawn exits. tom pulls back with a breathy laugh. “you must be exhausted, yeah? let’s get you to bed.” he pecks your lips once more. “my girl needs her beauty rest.” that confirms your relationship. you scrunch your nose and grin wide. “and, she’s gonna get some with her boy.”
you’re reminded of how sweaty you are when you catch a whiff. “oof, wait. do you think i can take a shower first?” you grimace, fanning at the air for emphasis. tom uses the tip of his nose to nudge yours. “absolutely. need help in there, too?” he’s not asking in that way, only so nothing happens. the hospital wouldn’t be the most pleasant place to spend your break. plus, he doesn’t want to be without you too long.
“you know what? yeah.”
that’s how you end up intertwined under the hot water, letting it cascade down your back as tom hugs you close to him. you sigh in content and tangle your fingers in his fluffed over curls. you’ve learned that he’s super into having his hair played with. it’s endearing, how he instinctively leans into your touch, eyes closing as you tug on the roots.
he drops his head down to kiss your shoulder, dragging his lips to your collarbone in a way that tickles. they land on one of your breasts next. there isn’t anything sexual about it, only loving. just in case he gets too excited because it’s not uncommon he does, you gently put a finger to his lips. tom takes the hint and lets up. you continue combing through his wet hair while you step out of the water.
“do you ever sing in the shower?” he questions, drawing your naked body in closer to his. “sometimes, yeah. i honestly feel like i sound better there,” you admit and slide your hand down to the nape of his neck. tom’s tongue darts out to lick his lips. “not true. you sound beautiful everywhere, and don’t fight me on this one.” he smirks in satisfaction, you groaning at your loss.
“i really enjoy hearing your voice when it blares through an arena, though,” tom keeps buttering you up. you shake your head and settle both arms around his neck. “man, i just love you so much.” “i love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs back, you switching places so he can give his hair a final rinse. you watch him and his glowing body, admiring the sight.
“what a sensation you are,” you say mostly to yourself, which doesn’t stop him from hearing. “i see what you did there.” he eyes you while you do the same to him. your arms still around his neck pull him back to you. “tommy? do you sing in the shower?” you meant to ask him before, then he started throwing all those compliments at you.
tom scoffs, walking you back so you’re against the wall. “i don’t sing anywhere.” “what?” you gasp and put a hand on his chest. “you’re lying, you have to be. wasn’t billy elliot a musical?” he narrows his eyes at you as he tries to gage where you’re going with this. “that i did a decade ago, and way before puberty. couldn’t sing a word without cracking after that.”
your mouth is left hanging open in shock and disappointment. you bet he has a nice voice, and he’s downplaying it. “y/n,” tom begins, cupping your jaw with his palm. “since we’re living together now, there’s a lot you’re going the learn about me. good things, weird things.” he shrugs casually. “this is one of the weird things.”
“only because you make it weird! come on, let me hear you,” you request and wrap a leg around his waist. you’re giving him a hopeful smile. “god, no. you’ll hate it,” he almost laughs, a hand on your thigh. “i’m literally a singer. how could i hate something i love?” you refute, batting your lashes at him. “especially when someone i love is doing it.” “i love you, too. but, i’m not.” he’s quick to shut you down.
“drop a bar!” you try to coax him, which he already has a comeback for. “you first.” “i can’t. my throat is all scratchy from earlier,” you lie. tom presses his lips into a line, feigning pity. “aw, you know what’ll make you feel better? tea. i’ll go get you some.” he turns to shut the water off, so you grab his shoulders. “no, the steam is working. you can stay.”
“love,” tom addresses you in a warning tone that you can’t take seriously. he can’t either, a giggle escaping him. “my voice is shit. ask anyone, and they’ll tell you.” “i won’t believe them,” you hum, pushing back curls sticking to his forehead. “sounds like you just have stage fright. we can work on that, though.” “how?” he tightens his arm around your middle.
“i’ll bring you on for my next show. we’ll do a little duet.” you’re joking, though that would definitely be interesting to see unfold. “uh, never. what happened to you being tired?” tom cleverly deflects and digs his fingers into your side. you look down in defeat. “i forgot about that.” “yeah, yeah. no, seriously. we should really get to sleep, y/n/n.” he’s back to his sweet, attentive self. “‘s been a long night.”
giving in with a nod, you capture his lips in yet another kiss. tom never gets tired of them, and neither do you. you break it after a few seconds, lips lingering on his as they detach. “carry me?” you ask again, not caring how whiny you sound. tom presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “oh, you’re adorable. of course.”
well, you’ve found something to keep you occupied until the next leg of tour. you’re going to discover the many layers your intriguingly unusual boyfriend has.
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emilydreamersblog · 3 years
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Being Best Friends W/Golden Trio Would Include
●Hermione making sure you study and pass your classes.
●Harry making sure you get enough sleep.
●Ron making sure you're eating.
●Being the reckless one in the Trio (the others are always pulling you out of trouble).
●Sending letters to each other all the time.
●Meeting the Dursley's and being as rude as you can.
●You can be scary and no one messes with your friends.
● Meeting Hermione's parents and them loving you and taking you shopping. Staying at the Burrow because you don't feel welcome at home.
●Fred and George treating you like a queen and their best friend.
●Being the Gryffindor chaser and being ultra competitive.
●You're the one they vent to all the time.
● Physically threatening Draco so he stops tormenting Hermione in first year.
●From then on, she's your best friend..
●Yelling at Ron in first year for being mean and then him apologizing when he realizes it.
●Being slightly older than them so you're best friends with the twins and after you save Ron from a troll, he becomes your friend.
●Buying Harry candy anonymously when he first shows up on the train because he looks underweight.
●Being friendly to Neville and helping him find Trevor.
● Constantly falling asleep on Harry or Ron because you're up all night helping others.
●Getting up early to exercise.
●Constantly getting detention because you fight bullies.
●Going to visit Hagrid after school.
●Helping Neville with homework he doesn't understand.
● Following the Trio into the trap door and facing off a ghost with bravery.
● Getting injured a LOT because you're so selfless.
●Getting pissed when Harry doesn't return letters and going with the Twins and Ron to break Harry out.
●Being McGonagall's favorite student and her always talking to you.
● The teachers all respecting you because you care about others.
●Minerva sometimes lets you sleep in her class because goodness knows that you are a sleep deprived girl.
●Using the invisibility cloak to cause mischief.
●Also using the Marauder's Map because you can.
●Seeing James's ghost and becoming friends without realizing that it's James.
●Knowing Hogwarts like the back of your hand.
●Sneaking into the kitchens and getting food / talking to the House Elves.
●Hating Lockheart and being the only girl who does.
●Brewing Polyjuice potion and keeping some for later.
●Driving the car in the FF to get away from spiders.
●Being like Ginny Weasley's older sister.
●You're a pureblood so you don't get petrified but when Hermione does.you go on a warpath.
● Going into the chamber of secrets and fighting off hundreds of little snakes to protect Ginny Weasley.
●Getting hurt and the entire Weasley family tries to cheer you up.
●Having a hard time over the summer because your very large family is in a wizard civil war.
●Running away to Minerva because she doesn't want you to get hurt.
● Staying with her over the summer.
●When Sirius Black breaks out, Minnie tells you exactly what's going on; after all, Harry is your best friend.
● Promising to protect him.
●Meeting up on the Hogwarts Express and when the dementors come, your gift of seeing the future is triggered. You start to have nightmares every night and so Professor Lupine lets you come in at all times of night to talk to him.
●To cheer you up, he tells you funny stories from when he went to Hogwarts.
●Him teaching you how to cast a patronus and giving you a lot of chocolate.
●He teaches you advanced spells to protect yourself and others.
●Telling him what goes on at home and why you're struggling so much this year.
● Skipping divination and going to see Hagrid because it calms you.
●Loving the class because of the magical creatures.
●B-slapping Malfoy and making his eye swell because he taunted Hagrid. Knowing that Lupine is a werewolf but trusting him anyway.
●Following the Trio out to the Shrieking Shack and finding Sirius Black.
● He looks familiar and you have no idea why; then it hits you: he saved your life this year.
●You were down at the Black Lake and almost drowned, but he pulled you out. Listening to what he has to say and believing him.
● Trying to talk Lupine out of his werewolf form but it not working.
● You don't get injured but are upset when he leaves.
●You go back in time to help save Sirius Black and Buckbeak.
●Keeping in contact with both because they helped you so much.
● Hand holding and hugging with friends when they finally learn what's going on at home.
●Hexing Malfoy every time he is rude. Which is a lot.
● Going with the Weasley's to the World Cup.
● Sassing old Malfoy because she can.
●Getting hexed by the D.E's and getting seriously injured.
●Not trusting Mad-Eye because she's suspicious of everyone.
● Scolding Harry.
● A lot this year.
●Knowing that he didn't put his name in the goblet but still yelling that he better survive.
●Really struggling throughout the year because you lost family.
● When the tournament comes, you are Harry's number one supporter.
● You make sure he eats, sleeps and passes his classes, as well as survives.
●You freak out when you're the one in the water and not Hermione.
● Harry saves you anyway and you have panic attacks because that's what you're afraid of.
●When Voldemort comes back..good gosh you just hug Harry and make sure he's okay.
●Over the summer, you lose your siblings and you go into a depression. You lose interest in school but care about others.
●You never sleep anymore because all you have are premonitions or nightmares.
●You actually become friends with Draco over the year because he notices how much you're struggling.
●You hardly eat this year and are getting in more and more fights.
● Umbridge provoking you a lot but nothing works because her words don't seem to affect you.
●You get punished a lot and spend a lot of time with Minerva, Sirius and Lupine because they are like parents.
● Starting the D.A. and being reckless about fighting again.
●Helping the Weasley's escape from Hogwarts.
●Breaking every single rule on the wall.
●You breaking into the Ministry with the others and attacking Death Eaters.
●Your parents have recently been killed and you didn't know.
● Sirius dies and the Death Eaters taunt you because your family is dying.
● Everything goes downhill from there; your family is in a civil war and you're one of the last ones left.
●All of your siblings are dead and you're being forced to fight because of your uncles.
●You lost everyone.
●Everyone; every last family member dies in a Death Eater attack.
● From then on out, you're on your own.
●No one knows what happened to your parents and so you're homeless.
●Only for a short time tho, because Fred and George love you and take you in. You get a job at their joke shop.
●You're targeted by Death Eaters because you become a member of the Order of the Phoenix.
● Finally telling your friends what happened.
●Them being loving and supporting; lots of hugs and hand holding.
●Still trying out for Gryffindor Quidditch team and being the best Chaser.
● When winter comes, you're attacked by Death Eaters and nearly die.
●You're injured and not well off.
●You're sent to stay with the Weasley's to recover.
●It's not good; you start to regress and become closed off again.
● The Burrow burns down and you go after the Death Eaters by yourself.
● You get one but the others escape. Afterwards, Lupine scolds you and gets mad at you.
●You break down crying and show emotion for the first time in a year.
●He just hugs you.
●When Harry attacks Draco, you get mad because Draco has been nice to you.
● He's trying to turn you but you have no idea.
●When Hogwarts is attacked, you get pissed.
●Finally all of the anger you've been penting up can be let out.
●You manage to take out 6 Death Eaters by yourself.
●You're in a lot of trouble with the adults for what you've done.
● Dumbledore is dead and you are being hunted for being a Pureblood traitor.
●They're top priority.
●You get sent away to America, where you live in a quiet wizarding village where you meet some very brave witches and wizards.
● You fall in love there and he dies to protect you.
●Finally, you help the Trio hunt down Horcruxes to stop Voldy.
●At the Battle of Hogwarts, you give your life to save Fred.
●You die but he survives.
● When you wake, you're in a beautiful garden; James, Sirius, Lily, Remus and your family are waiting for you.
● You saved the lives of many.
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peakyblinderswhore · 3 years
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DAY 4 ⇨ FROSTBITTEN 
GENRE: Christmas!au, Fluff, Arthur is a big softie, Reader is clearly in love with him
PAIRING: Arthur x Reader
SYNOPSIS: It began, you could say, when Arthur got himself into the hymn singing group. You were drawn to him, finding yourself signing up for more things, saying “If you do it, I will too,” before causing ruckus at another group or gathering. This time, it was the point in the year where you went around caroling, kindly asking for donations to donate to the local orphanage for the children who needed it more than you did, an activity that you had always done but this year Arthur’s there, making everything seem that much better. It’s safe to say that caroling takes a lighter tune this year.
W/C: 1.4k
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As of recent, Arthur had joined in with a lot of things around Small Heath, you had noticed. You weren’t sure why but you found yourself joining in on more of the community activities becasue of this.
Just last week there had been a small baking competition where the Church Community baked whatever they could and then once the winner was announced, the goods were shared between yourselves and whoever came in looking for something to eat. It was mostly children with ruffled hair and dirty faces but you were more than happy to serve them a slice of cake or a slice of bread slathered with one of the other competitors’ handmade butter -- something that you were far too busy to try out yourself. 
You loved joining in, although initially it had been because there was a male interest in all of the activities. Arthur had started coming, drawing a few women in to join the community but they tended to stand off to one side, whispering hurriedly to each other and nodding their heads in Arthur’s direction; you had no idea why, though. Arthur held an aura that you were in awe of, and you were instantly drawn to him.
The first thing he signed up for was hymn singing, which typically was just women and women only, however, when the announcement was made that Arthur was to be joining, the air had stilled and it became apparent amongst the other women that this was against the organisers original wishes. It completely went past you though, you sat nodding along when the pastor had said that the added baritone could widen the range of songs that you were able to sing as a group.
That Monday afternoon, there had been a group of reluctant women huffing and making a fuss before Arthur had turned up. When he did, he walked to the empty chair in the row behind you and greeted the women either side, “Hello, ladies. Just doin’ my bit around here, I fancied trying out practicing my hymns and talking to the Man in Charge every so often.”
They had given him curt replies and moved on from the conversation as quickly as they could manage. Arthur had ignored it and looked ahead, joining in on the singing when required and offering his two pence where it was worth. Frankly, it was horrible singing and he needed to work on his timing a bit better but you didn’t say anything, not wanting to stick your nose in anything so soon on. Nevertheless, he turned up for two more sessions before you worked up the courage to talk to him at the end of one of your meetings, approaching him with your coat wrapped around your shoulders and the other women rushing to make their way out after tucking the chairs away behind a pillar.
“Arthur, right? I’m --”
“I know who you are,” he begins, face forming a small smile.
“Oh,” your hands fall to your sides and you let a smile adorn your face, “well, in that case, I just wanted to say that your addition to the group has been wonderful, really. It’s nice to have a change in the way we sound as a collective.”
Arthur’s eyebrows raise, “Not shocked by my presence?”
“A little, I mean, it has been just us ‘gals’ all this time but now we get to sing new songs since you’ve joined. Honestly,” your hands accentuate your words, adding flair to your speech, “it’s been a thrilling few weeks, wondering what we’re doing next.”
Arthur nodded, not sure what else to say, “I can see you’re getting ready to go somewhere so I’ll leave you to it, then,”
You smile and thank him for sparing a minute to talk to you and go to make your way out. Before you make it all the way to the door, you stop, hand resting on the handle and turn to face Arthur who was still hanging behind to talk to the pastor, “Arthur,” you call. He turns.
“I’m not sure if it’s your kind of thing but we’re baking next weekend for the people of Small Heath. It’s not always a big turn out and most of the others don’t like the kids that come in looking for something to eat and a warm place to stay but it’d be nice if you came,” you falter over your next words, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach as you didn’t know how he’d react, “I’m baking sourdough this time round; I’ll save you some, if you like?”
He nods, a tight smile on his face, “I’ll see what I can do.”
And that’s how it went for months. You and Arthur worked together more often, stood by each other in hymn practice and he even brought along his younger brother to some of the baking dues that the Church held. Over time you both got closer to one another, sharing laughs and the other women pointed at you and Arthur, muttering things under their breath that you couldn’t quite catch but you paid them no mind, preferring to feign ignorance so that you could enjoy yourself for longer.
It came around to Christmas time and the both of you made it known that you were going Caroling once the group was set up. On Mondays the songs transitioned into traditional Nativity-themed songs and songs that made everyone merrier this time of year.
Soon, time passed and you found yourself giddy with excitement over being able to spend the evening caroling with Arthur. You had discovered some form of comfort when he was around that allowed you to be yourself and to not hold back in front of the other women and also developed a way to blur out their gossiping in the background, not caring what they had to say. 
“Alright tonight, ladies?” Arthur greeted them all before turning his attention to you, “And you, how are you?”
Immediately, you wrap your arms around his torso, a greeting he had gotten used to over the months as he returned the favour, wrapping his arms around yours and enjoying the warmth before you pulled away to talk to him properly.
You offer a bright smile, “I’m alright, you know me. How’re you? How’s Finn?”
Arthur smiles warmly, something in his eyes shimmering at the thought of you remembering to ask after Finn, “He’s upset.”
Your face falls, “What, why? What’s up? Who’ve I gotta scrap to keep that ball of sunshine happy?”
“He’s upset because his Aunt Pol’ wouldn’t let him come caroling with us,” Arthur chuckles as you let out a huff of air.
“I take back the scrapping; I don’t want to fight the face of authority, instead I’ll stick to singing hymns and cooking over baked bread occasionally.”
You turn and smile at Arthur, offering a toothy grin. He smiles back and watches as you move side to side and blow hot air onto your mitten clad hands.
“If your hands get cold, you can put them in my pockets.”
Flitting your eyes up to meet his gaze you mumble a ‘thanks’ and feel the heat rushing to your cheeks.
The person running the caroling announces that you’re going to leave to begin caroling and Arthur offers the crook of his arm and you gladly accept, enjoying the warmth his body offered.
For the rest of the evening you and Arthur sang side by side, some would say more enthusiastically than the rest of the carollers in the female led group. Arthur told jokes in between houses once you begin house calls and even elicited a laugh or two from some of the others but that didn’t mean you hadn’t laughed with him all night long.
When the evening was coming to an end you perked up, “Hey, Arthur, wanna go for a drink in the Garrison? On me for keeping me company all night.”
“You know,” he says bumping his shoulder with yours, “that it’s always on me when we go in there.”
You roll your eyes, “Own the place or something? I’ve never seen you physically pay Harry, y’know. I’m beginning to think you’re secretly really rich and doing your bit for the community in secret.”
Arthur doesn’t say anything, just pats your hand that remains on his arm and chuckles along with you, “if only,” he mutters to himself.
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pinkykitten · 3 years
Text
are you bored yet?
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synopsis: with uncertainties in life you cant say for certain if you and fred being together is a good thing or bad thing. so many things are running through your mind as you spend watching the sunset with the love of your life, fred weasley. 
pairing: fred weasley x female! reader (i swear im like obsessed w him i need therapy fr) words: 1,503 genre: fluff omg so much, romance, song based, writing challenge, one-shot
a/n: so this is based on the song are you bored yet by wallows. and this is for the writing challenge of @lunalovecroft​. i had so much fun writing this and as u can tell im currently in a fred spiral and its out of control but idc tbh. he is so beautiful and yes he is invading my dreams every night. enjoy yall and hope u like also thnx for liking my recent fred drabble so much it means a lot to me and requests are open! ps i also tried to incorporate the words and meaning of the songs lyrics to the story hope that makes sense. 
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The ocean waves crashed against the soft, cool sand. It would simmer and relax, but then the pent up frustration mixed with wind would allow it to meet and kiss the earth. 
The future always scared you. Somedays you looked forward to it and other days just the unknown was filled with anxiety. It was the feeling of not being able to control loss and love, happiness and sadness. You would find yourself some nights thinking about it, almost losing your mind. 
The sun was setting so peacefully and beautifully. It was something so simple yet something so divine and of such importance. You had faith in the sun and space. Yes, everything around you may be changing and things might be going wrong but one thing was for certain was that the sun was going to rise and set every day, when the sun rises that will be your new chance at starting anew. 
It was so peaceful. The smell of sea was so inviting and comforting. What was more comforting was how Fred let your head rest against his chest. The feeling of worn out cotton against your cheek, as you heard his heart beat almost at the same rhythm as yours. It was if you two were in perfect sync. The faint smell of cologne that Fred always used to try to impress you made you feel at home, along with a small smell of something unknown to you but only Fred had that smell. Maybe it was gingers own scent. 
You sighed, relaxing. 
“So, love, what do you think about the muggle world?” Fred asked, wiggling his brows like he was the man.
You looked up at his freckled face, from his chest, giggling, “You know I’ve been here before.”
Fred laid back down and enjoyed the moment with you. But something was eating you up inside. It was starting to bug you that everyone had a someone. Ron to Hermione. Harry to Ginny. You were starting to feel left behind in the crowd. Again with the uncertainty. Everyone was with their soulmate and you felt lonely. 
You didn’t realize Fred was eyeing you this whole time you had this battle in your head. He could tell something was off. “What’s wrong?”
You very much disliked confrontation so you pretended to fall asleep. 
“I saw you were awake Y/N,” Fred sat up. He was patiently, quietly waiting for your answer. 
You sat up, kicking your feet against the peak you two were sitting on. The warmness from the sun making you smile just a bit. “I wish we didn’t have to leave. That we could sit here for the rest of our lives.”
Fred chuckled, scooting closer to you and resting his head against your shoulder. Something sparked within you at the contact. You could feel his breath on your neck, feeling the hair stand up on its own. You leaned your head against his and sighed once again. 
“I wish I could sit here with you forever too sweetheart. But unfortunately we’re really not supposed to be here and I bet some muggles would find us and we’d be toast.” Fred kissed your knuckles. 
You distanced yourself away from him, worrying Fred with wide eyes. You couldn’t bear the physical connection you two had and not have something from it. Yes, you and Fred were friends but you were wanting more than that. You yearned for more than that. “There is just so much on my mind,” you said quietly. You can tell you hurt Fred’s feelings but you needed to know what Fred was doing to you. Why did he kiss your hands? Why did he want to be with you daily? You needed support, something stable in your life. 
“Feels like I've known you my whole life I can see right through your lies,” Fred was worried seeing you so distant. 
He was right. He knew you in and out. He knew when you were okay and when you were not. You leaned back, “I like this guy and I’m afraid he doesn’t like me.”
“That’s bonkers! Who wouldn’t like you Y/N?” Fred tried not to grit his teeth at his jealousy. This man was so lucky. 
“I’m afraid Fred. I don’t know if he’ll feel the same way and when we get older will he still feel the same way about me? There is so much to think about. What if something happens to him? I would fall apart, I would be living in fear and paranoia.” You clenched your fists. 
“Wow, you do really love this man?”
You huffed as you looked into Fred’s eyes for a split second, hoping he would get the hint. “I do, I really do.”
Fred was silent. He was playing with his fingers. He usually had always something to say, seeing him like this was odd. 
“If you could tell me how you're feeling,” you held Fred’s hand. 
“I don't know where we're going But I'd like to be by your side,” Fred blurted out. You gasped as you took your hands away and held onto to your skirt, holding in your breath. “I can’t go on living knowing I didn’t at least try to stop you from being with that other guy. I know you love him Y/N but I love you. I can’t do this anymore. Kiss only your cheek when I want to kiss your lips so bad. I can’t make believe that every time you hold my hand I don’t feel a spark. Or when you come to my room every time you have a nightmare. When we cuddle, how I carry you on my back. I can’t make believe that those things don’t affect me. I can’t keep putting this wall between us and making believe we’re not something worth fighting for. Tell you the truth baby, I’m smitten with you. I’m so madly in love with you.”
Your lips trembled as tears fell down your cheeks. Fred couldn’t help himself and also found himself emotional, wiping his tears with his jumper sleeve. Nobody knew what to do. “Why are you crying love?” Fred whispered. 
“Because the man that I was referring to and talking about was you Fred,” you said with tear soaked lips. The wind carried your tears away. “I love you Fred Weasley.”
You both were knew in this territory of love. Love that you would sacrifice everything and risk more. Love that was unconditional. It was awkward the air funnily. 
“So are we more than friends then? Like boyfriend and girlfriend?” Fred was so shy. You both just confessed your loves for each other, nobody knew what to do. You both were just friends for so long. 
“When we get old, will we regret this?” You asked, bashfully. 
“I will never in my whole existence ever regret meeting you and being your love. No matter what tough trials come, I know I will always be by your side.”
“I will forever love you Fred. There is not one person on this world I love more than you. I’m so grateful I was sent to Hogwarts because you’re my favorite person.” You gave a small, genuine smile. “Maybe we'd get through this undefeated Holding on for so long.”
In one swift moment, Fred’s lips came crashing down against yours. It was with such passion and fire. Like Fred was preparing his whole life for this one spectacular moment. His lips moved against your and you couldn’t help but deepen the kiss by running your fingers through his orange locks and pushing him more towards you. You wanted everything he got. 
Fred pushed you back and wrapped his warm hands on the back of your neck. Your hands fell to his collar and you clutched onto it with all your might. You felt you might explode. Fred went from your lips to smothering you in kisses all over your face. You heard his laugh and saw his toothy smile but it was better because his freckled covered cheeks were such a cute pink. He was blushing the whole time. Fred kissed your nose and you and him laughed together, simply in love. He leaned his head against you for one moment and leaned back in his spot on the cliff. 
You were out of breath and stunned. Did that just happen? You were so happy it did. You sat there surprised by the amazing kiss, touching your lips and feeling them sting a little from the contact. It was incredible. The best sensation of your life. 
Fred saw you the whole time, smirking. He coughed to get your attention and your eyes traveled up to see the most amazing view. He was leaning back, his lean neck resting back against his shoulders as his adams apple bobbed. But what got you choked up was his lips were plump and wet from your twos make out session. His skin was flawless with his freckles and his eyes were bright and light from the sunsetting. The sun’s rays hit his face just perfectly to make him look like a prince. Like he came down from heaven. You were so dumbfounded at how a man could look this beautiful and handsome. 
Fred smirked as he bit his lip, winking, wanting to tease you, “I don’t know if you wanna get out of here or maybe go get a bite together as I’m your new boyfriend. I mean 'Cause we could stay at home and watch the sunset But I can't help from asking, Are you bored yet?"
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a/n: ive been listening to this song on repeat and know its in my head and i just want to make an edit of fred for this song cuz he is so bf material. thnx for all the love and support stay safe guys and tysm. 
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