#his face is so funny i swear george he's just distracted ok and there's a decent chance it's by you to top it off

[harrisongslimited]

George Chapter of the Day #8

I Saw Her Standing There

Trigger Warnings: adult situations, swearing, smoking, sexual references

Chapter 8

"So Georgie," John began, a sly look on his face. "You seem a tot distracted. What's up with you?"

Paul egged John on with hand gestures from a safe distance. They were going to make him say it...that he was batty over Joie. Knowing George as they did, they didn't need a PhD in psychology to see it all over his face. He never was any good at hiding his feelings.

George stared at John, grinned and walked around him, taking his guitar with him.

"C'mon. Give it up. She's got your gut in a twist, doesn't she?"

"I'll make sure to send you a wedding invitation, you soft twit."

"Fine. Call me names. But you're in love with Joie. Say it..."

"Bugger off you bloody arsehole," George shot back at him with a subtle grin. "It's none of your business."

"Well then," John replied smartly. "Our old lothario, Paul, will begin to charm and woo her, if it's all the same to you..." John continued to tease him.

George turned and looked between John and Paul, his expression unreadable. "Do whatever you bloody well please."

He wasn't ready to tell anyone anything. He was too unsure of himself. The Hamburg girls, the groupies, were easy pickings in a way. The Hamburg ladies were experienced in being girlfriends and lovers and for the most part, usually hunted him down. Joie Armagh was an entirely different species. Wooing in Hamburg was sharing a cig, a beer and after quick introductions, a shag in a not all that private or secluded place. All of them had walked in on each other in the throes of shagging and it didn't phase anyone, including the girl.

Joie required some finesse. She required time; she deserved flowers, hand holding, soft kisses on her lovely, sweet neck, dinners in restaurants that had soft lighting, roses in vases on the tables and crisp, white tablecloths. George understood it, but felt...out of his league. It was a problem he would have to get over if he ever wanted her naked body pressed against his...and having her love him was worth everything he had.

John and Paul realized George was very serious about Joie and immediately backed off...almost.

"Hey, if you manage to get her to say yes to a date, can I come with you like you used to do with me and Cyn when you were a skinny tadpole?"

George smiled and laughed. "Over my cold, dead body."

"You know George, she's a classy bird. Pretty too," Paul gave him a slap on the back. "You better stay on your toes. Some posh bloke could come along and sweep her off her feet."

George gave him a genuine smile. "Like i said, over my cold, dead body, Paulie."

..........

Joie drove with Freda on her first days at NEMS, still too unsure of driving in London. It reminded her of the Indianapolis 500, everyone going bat shit crazy and weaving and bolting through rows of cars. She was going to be in England for the next 6 months and she was going to make the most of it. She would tame the chaos of the roadways. Joie just needed a plan.

And as promised, a mini cooper was given to her as a company car. Freda took her to the parking lot to show her the baby blue car she was allowed to use while she worked for NEMS. When Paul showed up at the office that morning, he promised to give her some driving lessons, but Joie knew that George would be the one who would take the time. Joie had come to realize that Paul had his focus on his own life and his life with Jane. There was no room for her and that was ok.

George was a whole different situation. It was his eyes that tantalized her first. Deep, dark, mysterious, yet a window to his heart. Joie knew he was a softie underneath that protective cover of a funny, tough kid from the docks. Seeing him with his mum and dad cleared that right up. It was strange that she seemed to shiver whenever he was close to her. Her skin became electrified somehow, hypersensitive to the nearness of his body, the sound of his voice, even the aftershave he wore. When they were in the same room, she knew exactly where he was at all times. The feelings confused her. They were new feelings right out of the box and she was neither sure of what they meant nor what she was supposed to do about them.

Brian, on the other hand, treated her curtly. He barked orders and Freda told her it was just his way because he was under so much pressure. But Joie got the distinct impression that Brian didn't want her there for whatever reason. She was going to win him over with her dedication and discretion. But for now, she stuck close to Freda to learn her job and got to know the other girls in the office. Alice was Brian's assistant and was friendly and helpful. The only other person in the office was a constant visitor named Derek, who served as a part time press officer. Joie was surprised they operated with such a small staff considering the enormity of the operation. But she was there to do a job...and do it she would.

All 4 Beatles dropped in frequently. George came in and asked Joie to come with him on an errand, and he was going to let her drive. She had been avoiding driving, and broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of it. George reached out to hold her elbow and began whispering in her ear. She went weak in the knees, her body shivering, the flight of hundreds of butterflies crossing her lower gut. Joie tried to pull herself together; the only thing she could do was step away from him, George supposing he was invading her personal space and moving to the side.

"Would you mind coming with me this afternoon on an errand?" he asked softly.

"Would love to," was Joie's reply as a bright smile caused her eyes to shine.

"We're off, Brian," George announced. "We won't be back." Brian just nodded silently as George took Joie's hand and led her out of the office. They both waved to Freda.

"Nice...," Freda thought to herself.

..........

"Ok," he said as she got behind the wheel. "It's just like driving anywhere. There's people and traffic and you just need to get used to driving on the other side of the road that you are used to."

Joie looked at him skeptically, started the car and stopped. "I can't George. I just can't. What if we get into an accident?"

" Hm...wear your seat belt. You'll be fine. I'm right here," he looked into her frightened eyes. "I'm right here. Not going anywhere, Joie. I'll be right beside you."

It took every ounce of Joie's strength not to throw her arms around him and just hold on. Instead, she looked in every direction and eased the car out into traffic.

"Maybe I should know where we're going?"

"Esher," he announced. "I bought a house."

.........

Within an hour, Joie safely drove all the way to Esher from London. George was a patient teacher and calmly helped her navigate the roads.

"Thank you for your coaching and patience," Joie remarked, reaching out and laying her hand on his arm.

When they discussed it later, neither one knew exactly what happened. It was just like heat lightening...comes out of nowhere to light the sky.

.........

Joie was amazed at how lovely the property was. The ranch house was even nicer. It was cozy and open. But completely empty.

"It's beautiful George," Joie told him as he took her on a tour of the house. "you picked a wonderful house."

"it needs furniture and that's where you come in. The decorator is coming and I need a second opinion."

Joie thought this was a huge undertaking. "But George, I hardly know your style or what you want...."

"We'll do it together. I don't know what I want either. I want comfortable. I want a place to crash. I want to be able to entertain if I ever get the chance."

There wasn't a pot or pan or plate or chair in the entire house. And the house was large, with a coach house and an in ground pool in the back. It was going to take thousands to decorate this house and Joie felt out of her element. Her home back in California was a small apartment with 3 bedrooms.

"Are you sure you want me to help you with this? I'm a complete novice. I decorated our apartment from K-mart. Remember K-mart?"

George nodded and smiled "Give it an American flair. I liked the California open look."

"Ok...whatever you want."

"And remember the decorator will do most of the work. When I'm gone on tour, I want you to be here to coordinate once we pick out everything we need."

Joie nodded at him again and went for tour around the house a second time, taking notes and asking George questions.

As George surveyed the garden, Joie studied the empty kitchen. This was a huge undertaking. But it was her job to help him. And if George wanted her to help decorate his new house, that's what she would do.

..........

The interior decorator showed up shortly after their arrival and George remained outside in the garden. Joie negotiated with the decorator concerning everything from dishes, to a bed to dining room furniture. They came up with a great plan.

George finally appeared after overhearing Joie and decorator's conversation and liking what they discussed. "The coach house. I want it with a real California flair. Southwestern. It will go nicely with the garden I'm going to plan."

Joie and James, the decorator, nodded enthusiastically. Joie was writing furiously in a notebook she fortunately remembered to bring and laughed to herself. This is what it meant to work for a Beatle.

..........

Joie did wonder why George asked her to help coordinate the decorating and not Freda or Alice. They knew him way better than she did. Joie needed the cavalry and knew just who to call. While George surveyed his potential garden, Joie called Cyn.

"Cyn, I need your help," Joie said into the phone. "George wants me to decorate his new house and I need your input. You know him better than I do and your house is so beautiful. Can you meet me and the decorator on Wednesday?"

"Sure, of course," Cyn agreed. "I'm glad he finally bought a house. It's about time he settled down. Now all we need is to find him a steady girlfriend."

"Well, I'm just worried about the house. I want it done by the time they come back from tour. Then there's the opening for the movie and they will be off again. There's not a whole lot of time."

"Did he use James Terrier, the decorator?" Cyn asked. "George had called to see who we used and I gave him his name."

"Yes," Joie answered. "And he's wonderful. I just need another pair of eyes to help me."

"I'll bring Julian and lunch. See you Wednesday."

..........

The office was quiet on Wednesday as Brian had left with the boys on their European tour.

"Now we can breathe," Freda said to Joie as they leaned back in their chairs and lit cigarettes. "How's the house coming?"

"Delivering furniture this afternoon. I have to drive out by noon."

"How's the driving going?"

"Well, I learned from George, so all I have to do is lower my speed and I'm ok."

Freda laughed and nodded knowingly.

..........

"Let's eat first and get a plan," Cyn suggested, pouring the wine in 2 beautiful wine glasses.

While they ate and chatted, Julian explored the empty house, but didn't wander too far. There was really nothing he could get into, but like Cynthia said, somehow 2 year olds can always find trouble.

"Everything is coming today, Cyn. Everything. I've got 3 days to get this place in order before George comes home."

Cyn sipped her wine. "Any thoughts why George asked you to help?"

"None. Other than I figure that's what I was hired for. To run errands, help organize...that sort of thing."

"Um..."Cyn responded. "Maybe. I know George pretty well and it seems like he's thinking about something."

"Maybe he's in a relationship and wants to get his house settled so he has a nice place to bring someone home."

In her mind, Joie went back to the afternoon they first surveyed the house....his arms around her, his open mouth, crushed against hers, their tongues searching, hungry between her lips. There was a sigh of pleasure that she felt, sending an electric bolt right through to her groin.

His gentle hands cupping her face, sighing with pleasure to slightly deepen their kiss and draw their bodies together. It was like she was dying and he saved her. Reminded her she was a desirable woman. But afterwards, he escaped out into the garden.

"Thank you for the great job you're doing," George struggled to say, not looking at her.

"No problem," Joie replied and headed back into the house. Guess a passionate kiss is how the British say thanks.

"He's not seeing anyone steadily right now," Cyn brought her back to reality.

"Oh, well...maybe it's just in his plan. He likes plans."

Cyn laughed. "Yes, he does."

They had just about finished their lunch when a huge truck pulled up and James Terrier got out of the passenger's side. 'Afternoon ladies," he greeted. "We've got some work to do here."

Joie must have looked overwhelmed.

"But not to worry. This place will be showroom ready in no time."

With Cynthia's help, who called in Maureen, the house in Esher began to take shape. The bedroom was done...the living room and dining room. The kitchen had dishes and a tea pot. There were fresh, fluffy towels and pictures for the walls.

It was functional, yet available for George to add his own touches. The phone service had been set up already, but they needed to plug in the television set. There were other electronics George had purchased, and Joie decided that they needed someone with experience to set it all up. She made a mental note to ask George when she talked to him.

They all tackled the coach house and make it an extension of the garden, with bright colors, bright furniture and a flower motif. Julian had fun organizing the knick-knacks, the plants, anything he could get his hands on. Cyn, Mo and Joie sipped on cool white wine as they worked and talked.

By the end of the day, Julian was asleep on George's new bed, surrounded by the kitchen chairs so he wouldn't roll off and Cyn, Mo and Joie shared another bottle of wine.

By the time the women left, Joie was as exhausted as she's ever been. She curled up on the sofa just to relax for a minute and fell into a deep sleep.

..........

"Joie?" It was Freda. The phone woke her up.

"Hi Freda," Joie answered, taking a minute to realize where she was and what she had done.

"You are at George's? Brian is asking for you."

"Yes....we got so much done yesterday. It's looking like a real house. It will be ready for him by the time he gets home tomorrow," she said. "At least livable."

"That's great. I'm sure George will be thrilled," Freda began, then lowered her voice. "But Brian thought you'd be in the office this morning. He's thundering around here like there's no tomorrow."

"Oh," Joie said, surprised. "Does he want to talk to me? He didn't expect me to get George's house done in one day, did he?"

Freda kept her voice low. "I guess so. But he left for a meeting. I'll tell him to call you at George's."

"I'll be here the rest of the day today and then be in the office tomorrow. There are more deliveries today that I need to be here for."

"Ok," Freda said. "I'll tell him. But you know he can be a bear sometimes...."

Joie nodded. "I'm learning, Freda."

And she hung up.

Although she didn't know exactly what George expected to find in the kitchen, she went to the market and stocked up on the essentials. She was so busy, she really hadn't taken a moment to realize what she was doing. She was decorating George Harrison' house. Jordan was going to explode.

When she got back to the house, she met a florist at the front gate.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Are you Joie Armagh?"

She nodded.

The florist handed her a box. "This is for you."

"Me?" Joie asked again. "Me? There must be a mistake."

"Nope."

And he walked away.

She entered the house and put her purse and bags down. Then she carefully removed the ribbon and opened the box. It was dozens of flowers cradled in purple heather. The card simply said, "Thanks, George."

She was speechless. She'd never received flowers from anyone. But then she figured he wanted them for the house. She was just the receiver. But they were addressed to her with a thank you card. Joie didn't know what to think. She shrugged her shoulders and went about finding something to serve as a vase and arranged the flowers so he would see them on the coffee table when he came home.

"Hello?" It was Cyn on the phone. "I got the number from Freda. How's it going over there?"

"Hi Cyn," Joie greeted, happy to hear her voice. "How's Julian?"

"Good. He's at my mum's and I've got some free time. Need some help?"

"I'd love the company if you have time. I have to get back to town tonight so I can get into the office tomorrow."

"I'll be over in 30."

The second Joie hung up the phone it rang again. She thought it would be Cyn again.

"Hi Cyn..." she greeted with a giggle.

There was a slight delay as she heard, "It's George."

"Oh, hi," Joie answered easily. "Cyn just called and I thought it was her calling back. She and Maureen helped me yesterday with organizing your new house."

George laughed. "How does it look?"

Joie surveyed her handiwork. "You will like it. It's functional so you can add your own touches, but it's looking good. I went grocery shopping yesterday and your larder is full."

"Thanks, Joie. Cyn said you have good taste and the three of you got a lot done."

"You talked to her?"

"When John called her."

"We had a good time too---she and Maureen were a great help," Joie answered. "And there were some flowers that came. I put them in a vase on the coffee table."

"I have a coffee table?" was all he asked.

"You do now," Joie laughed. "The flowers are beautiful. Thank you."

"Thank you for your help.

"You are very welcome. It's been fun."

#the beatles #beatles #george harrison #john lennon #paul mccartney #beatlemania #george chapter of the day #beatles fan fic #fanfiction #writer #writer on tumblr

[sheepwasfound]

dream didn’t reply to george within 3 seconds 😰

#how dare he #dreamnotfound #dnf #his face is so funny i swear george he's just distracted ok and there's a decent chance it's by you to top it off #the pout is unnecessary #sheepy #sheepy clip #gogy twc #gogy twc 2.6 #needy #coupley

[quackiseok]

— my honeypie

dream team x reader || headcanons

genre : fluff

warnings : swearing , public nervousness

anon asked : Omh your kisses hcs were so cute 🥰 could I request hcs with dream and george (and anyone else is you want!) with a shy reader?? Like, social anxiety and loner type of person? Thank you in advance, Darling! ❤

a/n : ANON ISTG YOU'RE THE SWEETEST 🥺💞 this is such a cute idea!! i'm so sorry this took so long but i hope you like it :] and i'm really sorry for the grammatical mistakes my brain was going WJEJRJRJRR while writing this OTL

song to listen to while reading :

; DREAM

he would be VERY careful around you

he would also be very caring towards you, always making sure that you're comfortable with him! :]

even though sometimes he would tease you by giving you cheesy pick up lines, he's actually the SWEETEST mf alive 🥺

he secretly LOVES how your face turns red when the two of you look at each other for more than 5 seconds 👉👈

as much as he wanted to tease you and just turn you into a human heater, he will refrain himself with all his might from doing so because he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable :(

and when the two of you are cuddling and you turned red because how close the two of you were? [internal positive screaming from dream cause— man, you're just too cute and that should be illegal]

has a thing for : you hiding your face on his chest or the crook of his neck when you're feeling embarrassed or flustered psst, he enjoys it when you do that because he thinks you're so adorable AAAAA

he would also definitely let out a giggle before pulling you into his embrace when you're feeling shy, just letting you melt and hide your face on his chest,,,,,,,,,,,

and he doesn't want you to feel bad for being shy, so he would ALWAYS be very comforting when you're being shy,, like patting your back in a hug while whispering sweet stuff and say that "it's okay! i love you just the way you are, don't be sorry for being yourself." HNNGBTHHHTH HE IS SO WHOLESOME IM GONNA BURST INTO TEARS

in public? 100% protective mode on the whole time

will literally give actual death glares to people who makes you uncomfy with zero hesitation

if someone is obviously making you uncomfortable? he'd step into the conversation, somehow smoothly brought the bond to an end like it's so smooth that the person probably wouldn't even notice the death glare he's giving,,

either way, you're so thankful he's really good at talking things out 🥺🥺

but you love his protective side since it makes you feel safe!! :]

he'll always check on you and make sure that you're feeling ok :) if you don't mind, he'll gladly hold your hand and bring you closer to him

he would always try to distract you from feeling nervous by asking about the things you're interested in so you'd be distracted and just happily focus with the conversation between the two of you 🥺

((he loves the way you beam up when you talk about the things you love 🥺💞))

so overall? dream is a protective, loving dog boy who will literally square anyone up if they dare make you feel uncomfortable

; GEORGE

even though the two of you are both shy, george is definitely more protective over you

he 100% thinks you're so cute when you get all flushed around him so he couldn't help but tease you sometimes

but he does it occasionally and he only tease you mildly since he doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable around him :((

has a thing for you getting shy in his hoodies, especially his merch hoodies >:]

why, you ask?

BECAUSE OOTMFMYGOD when you get flustered, your cheeks would go red and you'll cover your face with those cute sweater paws from his oversized hoodies and ohmyggdodod is it even possible not to let out a slight blush from the cute sight???

instead of admitting to you that he LOVES seeing you in his oversized hoodies, he would just randomly give you his hoodie and say stuff like "wear it, it's getting cold here." "wear this. it's comfortable, i swear." AAAAAAA <//3

ah yes, the two of you love cuddles and hugs but both are shy as well. what could happen?

the two of you are shy, of course. but this man would literally risk everything just to cuddle you, like even though he feels like he's gonna melt into a puddle if he makes a move on you, he does it anyways >:)

it's cute how he would just immediately turn red after giving you a hug, and you'll also turn red like him after a few seconds! but the two of you really said 'fuck it' and just melt into a puddle together ♡

but when in public?

george would 100% gets protective and less shy when it comes to protecting you

he would act SO COLD towards people who visibly makes you nervous or uncomfortable, so cold that he can end uncomfortable conversations immediately. mans deadass can stop the global warming with his attitude 😳

even though he looks cold, you're thankful that he can get the two of you out of such situations like that! :]

will let you play with his fingers when you need distraction or he'll show you cottagecore minecraft houses and ask you to build one with him later which would distract you from feeling nervous 🥺

and always make sure that you're feeling okay, and will offer you to go home and cuddle instead if you say you're not feeling great 👉👈

overall? george is a shy cat boy who secretly cares so much and will do anything just to see you smile or make you feel better

; SAPNAP

this mf right here will tease you almost everyday just to see you all flustered and red because of his cheesy words

but of course, he knows when to stop. mans knows the line!! :D

he just couldn't help it 'cause??? you're just so fucking cute????? like everytime he sees you his heart goes AKSJEKWKSJEJS because how cute you are 🥺

mans would definitely lift you up out of no where whenever he sees you doing nothing

like when you're walking down the hallway? he goes to you and just picks you up bridal style while nuzzling his face on you because DAMMMIT YOURE JUST WAY TOO CUTE >:(

or sometimes he would just hug you and lift you up while you're still in his embrace, your flustered face burried in his chest while he whispers out how much he adores you 🥺

basically just everything that involves him picking you up and shower you with lots of love, he'll do it 😳

you'd go all flustered which he absolutely adores but will immediately let you down if you said so and wouldn't do it again if you're uncomfortable with it :] ((he knows the limit babe ♡))

even though sapnap is a really sweet, clingy (in a positive way!), and playful guy; it's a different story in public

well i mean, he still acts really playful with you— but with the people who makes you feel uncomfortable? no mercy at all

like he can go from giving you the sweetest puppy eyes filled with stars to giving "i will snap your ass in half" glares to people who makes you nervous

sapnap will not hestitate to pull you closer to his embrace and tell the person that the two of you gotta go now and just walk away,

death glares are essential according to him

nonetheless, you're just thankful that he's there to save you from unwanted conversations with some people 🥺

will tell you his embarrassing but funny stories just to make you laugh and distract you from your nervousness despite him knowing the fatct that you would tease him with the story for weeks

he doesn't care, as long as you're happy 🥺🥺

would also play with your fingers and just ask you about random things to keep you distracted! :)

of course he'll crack so many jokes with you, and he just never fail to make you laugh happily 🥺

overall?? sapnap is a loving, playful dog boy who loves teasing you but then when someone else makes you uncomfortable he will growl at them

#mcyt #mcyt x reader #dream smp #dream smp x reader #dream team #dream team x reader #mcyt imagines #mcyt oneshots #mcyt headcanons #dreamwastaken #dreamwastaken x reader #dream x reader #dream #georgenotfound #georgenotfound x reader #george x reader #sapnap #sapnap x reader #dreamwastaken headcanons #georgenotfound headcanons #sapnap headcanons #dream team imagines #dream team headcanons #mcyt fluff #mcyt drabbles #dreamwastaken fluff #georgenotfound fluff #sapnap fluff #mcyt headcanon #myct imagine

[rreeaahh]

Noble Chantage | Fred Weasley (02)

CHAPTER 2 - “It’s Queen for you, Weasley”

WORD COUNT - 2,406

SUMMARY - After having a fit of anger, you realize that, after all, some people near you are meant to make life easier.

WARNINGS - angst; flirt; a little swearing

TAGLIST (message me if you want to be added) - @lucymfer @prongsyy @famdomhideout @anywherebuthere​ @garyluly​

“I can’t believe you just said that!”

Laughing, I continued to run my fingers in Cedric’s hair, messing with his warm, brown locks.

“You’re the one who mentioned his name,” I said in my defense, which only made him frown his brows.

I looked down at him, his head on my lap. Cedric Diggory was a handsome boy and every girl on Hogwarts would’ve killed to be in my place in that moment. My index went down to his face, tracing the shape of his nose, stopping to his bottom lip and then going up to the other one. His soft and sweet lips were the ones which convinced me to stay to his side two years ago, when he kissed the back of my hand after walking me to my Common Room. For already two years Cedric Diggory was spoiling me with his attention, far from people’s eyes. It was nearly a miracle how our nearly-but-not-really-relationship stayed a secret that long. We met in the library, and he got my attention with his manners – very polite and he knew to respect a girl. He walked me to my Common Room every time we’ve met and sometimes I could’ve received flowers from him – daisies, his favorites – something very important in my opinion. Mat’ taught me that a true gentleman is the one who knows how to get his way to your heart subtle, without you realizing it.

“And you’re the one who said he’s handsome – I thought you didn’t like Quidditch that much.”

“My father’s a big fan of him, so I guess I know something about him in particular,” I smiled devilish, watching the jealousy growing on his face.

“D’you like him because he’s Russian? Does it have something to do with your DNA or something?”

“Cedric!” I laughed and slapped his chest gently. “Viktor Krum’s Bulgarian.”

He rolled his eyes. “Same thing, Y/N,” he said. “You fancy him and your dad likes him, that git.”

I knew he was joking, putting that much hate on the name of a famous Quidditch player – but he was funny playing the victim and he only wanted me to have a good time with him, always putting a smile on my face.

“Maybe if your dad would see me playing he’d like me too,” he whispered, playing with the end of my hair between his fingers.

Cedric had those jokes – I preferred to think of them as jokes – he wanted to mention his name to my parents, to tell them my sympathy for the Hufflepuff boy.

I pulled out the air in my lungs and looked away from his face. “Don’t start it again, Ced,” I asked him, already exhausted at the thought of that topic.

“Aren’t you tired of hiding?” he questioned and got up, looking me in the eyes. “Because I am.”

“It’s not like I have a choice,” I sighed and closed my eyes. When I opened them, he was still watching me.

“You do have a choice, Y/N, but you’re not choosing me.”

The accusation hit me like a punch in the stomach – his eyes were dark, nearly black, and I was asking myself if he was sad or mad.

“You don’t understand, Cedric,” I said in the same tonality, hoping to make him give up.

“I do understand your family, but I don’t understand why aren’t you saying something – you’re keeping me a secret for almost two years.”

“What do you want me to say? You want me to tell them I’m madly in love with you and there’s nothing they can do?” I snorted, rolling my eyes which made him even angrier, somehow. I guess I have this hidden talent: to make people angry, and then angrier. “Besides, it’s not like you’re shouting out loud how much time you spend with me, or how much you tell me I’m the best in everything!”

He was amused, I could tell by the way his eyes went smaller, in an almond shape. “You are the one who’s telling me to not tell people! You think I don’t want to tell all those gits who are drooling over you that you’re mine?”

Part of his words were truth: I directly told him to never tell anyone, I even made him swear to me and I told him that I’m a revengeful witch, so I wouldn’t forgive him if he’d broke his promise. But he still was somehow wrong. The gits who are drooling after me, as he called them, are the ones who provided me so much fame in a short time; being a nice looking girl, being unapproachable, made me who I am in Hogwarts – so my reputation, the way my last name was known in that school, was because the boys wanted me and the girls wanted to be me. It took me a while to be comfortable with that idea, but mat’ made sure I’d understand something: I’m a Rosier, people would always want something from me.

“Oh, Cedric,” I laughed and I got up, moving in the small compartment to the window and then to the door – it was a strange habit of mine, “Do you think I’m yours?”

The mean smile on my face made him confused, and that made me smile brighter. “What?”

“Yeah, no, I think it’s cute,” I added and stayed in front of him. “To think that you own me, when we both know it’s not true.”

“You know what I meant, Y/N,” he said exhausted, but he knew very well how much he fucked up the situation.

When I was away from home, I was free: nobody’d tell me what to do, what to say or wear directly, so I wasn’t very pleased to hear that he considered me his property in any way. “I know one think very well, Diggory,” I said in a cold voice, “You don’t own me. In fact,” I laughed, “you couldn’t afford me. Who do you think you are?”

He wasn’t expecting that kind of response from me, that was sure, but he said nothing as I continued to walk. “You want me to tell my parents about you? Tell them what? Mat’, papa, this is Cedric Diggory,” I started a fake speech, laughing, “He’s a very good Quidditch player, papa, he’s in Hufflepuff, he’s in love with me, clearly, but oh, Merlin, he’s too blind to see that he’s also a toy of mine!” I ended rising my hands up in the air.

He was frozen. “What?” was all he could whisper, searching my eyes to look for a little sparkle.

“C’mon, Ced,” I pouted my lips, “Don’t tell me you think that I could see you more than a waste of time! You’re nice, don’t get me wrong.”

“You’re just mad,” he said confident in his words, “You don’t mean it, Y/N, you always talk shit when you’re angry.”

“If that’s so, don’t you think that I’d make ‘our relation’”, I drew the commas in the air, “public? At least at school? Oh, no, darling,” I laughed again, finding very funny that idea, “I don’t show off every toy I get, you know?”

The devilish smile on my lips was erased by the tip of his wand,  pointed to my face. “Get out,” he demanded, not even looking at me.

“You’re threatening me?” I asked, holding back my laugh.

“Don’t make me do something I’d regret, Rosier,” he said, now looking at me with a hurt expression.

With a fast move of my hand, I was in the possession of my Reed Wood wand, casting an unspoken spell which made his wand come to me. I took it in my left hand, smiling proudly. “I think you forget who you’re dealing with, love,” I said in a mocking tone, the expression on his face giving me chills all over my spine – he was mad, hurt, annoyed: it made me sad and satisfied at the same time.

“I’ll go now only because I want to,” I clarified and opened the door, “Because nobody tells me what to do, and nobody should point their wand at me, Cedric,” I said in a serious tone, “I thought you’d know better,” I spat and threw his wand at his feet, careful not to damage it, and I closed the door after me, striking it to its frame.

I hated so much that he was right: when mad, I’d tell a lot of shits which were only meant to hurt the person I’d be arguing with. It was a flaw of mine, the short temper, but it hurt me very much to see him pointing his wand at me, wanting to hurt me or at least show me he’d be stronger. As long as I’d have my wand in my hand, nobody could be stronger: my mother always told me that she knew, deep down, that I’d be the strongest witch in my family, especially after I inherited my grandmother’s wand, which had a Dragon Heartstring core.

Even if my words were meant to hurt him, I realized they had something true behind: I knew very well that a relationship with someone who’s not a Pureblood Slytherin was worthless – in the end I wouldn’t have my parents’ approval and they’d eventually find me a husband, something I was still trying to prevent, somehow. Maybe Cedric was a toy for me – a fun thing to distract myself from all the craziness I’ve had in my world. To distract me from my parents’ authority and to give me a sense of leadership. I immediately erased that idea from my mind: my sense of leadership was not given by him; I was a leader, I had people that respected me and I had the authority myself. Hogwarts was the place where I was the Queen, I only needed to remember that.

All the thoughts made me go blind of what was happening in front of me, that explaining why I was hit by a body and than laying down to the metal floor, surrounded by small and colored balls. I was thinking about myself like a God, so that kind of interruption made me boiling mad.

“Are you alright?” asked a voice and a similar one responded before I could even move.

“I don’t think she is, mate.”

I got up, fast, ignoring the pain my ribs were feeling after falling on them, because I didn’t know what amount of skin was shown by my skirt. “Of course it’s you two,” I said in a sour voice, frowning my brows at the sight of the Weasley twins. They were nothing else but trouble and I was lucky enough to have every single class with them.

“It’s just Rosier, Georgie,” Fred said in a bored tone, gaining a slight punch in his shoulder by his brother.

“Are you ok?” George asked in his always kind way. He was acceptable, only a pawn in his brother’s plans, which he followed loyal. Fred, on the other hand, was eyeing me unimpressed by my presence.

To say we hated each other was a big thing: we only wanted to be better than each other. I knew he wanted to be more popular than me by doing all those silly pranks and coming with those crazy ideas, and being in the school’s newspaper was a big deal for both of us. At every big event the little Gryffindor kid – who’s name I could never remember – would be present, would take a photo and then other students, mainly Ravenclaws helped by Hufflepuffs, would write a spicy story, enough to make the whole school to talk about that subject until the next edition. I was the main protagonist when it came about drama, a new jewelry or my performance at the Duelling Club, along with my grades, and he and his twin would be on the front page after doing some crazy shit.

“Good enough to hex your brother,” I said to George, not even looking at Fred. Giving him as little attention as you could was a torture for him.

“We’re sorry,” George apologized, but his brother was fast enough to correct him.

“I’m not,” he commented.

Rolling my eyes and squeezing in my hand the wooden wand, I looked at my nails. “I’m not surprised you’re a jerk, but I think your mother raised you better than this.”

Bringing his family in discussion always made Fred anxious, for a reason or another, even if I always tried to not say something harmful about them.

“I didn’t see you, lawn gnome,” he smirked and I snorted. He got even taller and he found it funny to laugh at me because a nonsense like that.

“Very mature. Where were you hurrying, gingers?” I asked George, out of curiosity.

“Going to meet Colin Creveey,” he said proudly.

When he saw the confusion on my face, he smiled and continued, “For Hognews,” he clarified, mentioning the newspaper’s name.

“We were going to show him our new product, but somebody scattered all over the train,” Fred said in an annoyed voice, looking down to the floor, to the small balls.

“I’m not sorry,” I said to his annoyance.

“We’re still going, we have a few left,” he answered proudly, crossing his hands to his chest. “We’re going to make it first page and you can’t stop us.”

“Oh, Fredrick,” I laughed, making George smile too, “I don’t even want to stop you two from doing such great things.”

He was astonished, just like his brother. “Ok, I think.” George punched him again, straightening his voice – he hit him harder this time, because Fred mouthed a little ow. “I’m sorry for making you fall,” he apologized, doing his brother’s wish.

“Oh, what was that?” I asked, amused, forgetting about the hard feelings between us. “I didn’t hear you.”

He smirked. “I think you didn’t, due to the distance, little gnome.”

I made something which made him stare at me like I was crazy. I stepped on his red shoes, raising myself. I was reaching the level of his eyes now, and it was good enough. “You can repeat now.”

Fred woke up from his daydream and shocked me by putting his hands on my waist, a cocky smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, princess.”

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having me speechless because of his hypocrisy, I smiled. “It’s Queen for you, Weasley.”

#fred weasley x reader #noble chantage #rosier #wealsey #enemies to lovers #hogwarts #fred x y/n #Gryffindor #slytherin #george weasley #harry potter fanfic #fanfiction #y/n rosier #draco malfoy

[witch-and-a-half]

ok so twins/ron sneaking in ouid with Harry's invisibility cloak and the reader is trying to distract the teachers 👀👀

I see ron being flustered

You are my ouid content dealer so i ❤️ you muchly ✨✨

as always, i am writing requests so so slowly. i am so sorry that i have taken an entire month to write this. i hope you still like it :) also im so touched that i’m your ouid content dealer, truly a title i am unreasonably proud of <3 anyways, im gonna write this as ron and the reader recounting what happened bc that seems fun. sorry the twins aren’t super in it, i wasn’t sure how to include them without taking away from ron (whom i love) but i tried to do a teeny bit of fred x reader allusion just bc i think we all deserve that

- - -

“How’d it go?” Harry looked up from his place on the Common Room couch. Neville and Ginny sat beside him, and Hermione was in an adjacent chair—book in hand, obviously. You and Ron had only just shrugged the invisibility cloak from your shoulders when Harry spoke, meaning he hadn’t seen the relief etched on Ron’s face.

“We just about got caught! That’s how it went!” Ron’s voice was low, but urgent. You stifled a giggle at his dramatics.

Ginny held out a hand and Ron handed her the brown paper bag he’d been clutching. “I told you I would’ve gone,” Ginny teased, “but you insisted...”

Ron rolled his eyes, you had taken a seat on the floor, with your back pressed to the couch across from Harry, Ginny, and Neville. Ron slouched onto the couch for a moment, before sliding down to sit beside you on the floor.

He bent his knees toward his chest and wrapped his arms atop them, “It was all Fred and George’s fault. If [y/n] hadn’t been there to distract McGonagall, we’d be in Dumbledore’s office right now.” He nudged you with his shoulder.

You rolled your eyes, “You’re just lucky she likes me. If you’d have cried to her, I doubt she would’ve let you-”

Hermione closed her book, “You cried to Professor McGonagall?”

“Not really...” You shrugged, but Ron cut you off with an unexpectedly accurate impression of your voice, “‘I-I’m sorry Professor. I know I shouldn’t be wandering alone this late... but my cat-” He finished off the impression with a bold sniffle.

Ginny’s eyes were wide and her mouth was curved in amusement. Neville shook his head and laughed along with Harry. Hermione, visibly stifling a smile, spoke up, “Hold on, what exactly happened?”

“We made it to the secret entrance no problem,” Ron explained, “But Fred—bloody idiot—wanted to show us this new product they’d been working on.”

“Trying to impress [y/n] no doubt.” Neville interjected. You blushed, but continued the story before Ginny could add the teasing comment you could see sitting on the tip of her tongue.

“The damn thing went off. Made a nice shrill yelping sound too.” You crossed your arms at the memory, “So I improvised...”

Ron picked up where you trailed off, “I got the cloak over Fred, George, and I just in time for Professor McGonagall to round the corner. [y/n] blubbered some story about how her cat was missing, and even managed a few tears before McGonagall let her off with a warning.”

“I think she felt bad for me, genuinely.” You grinned smugly.

“Blimey...” Harry said under his breath.

“I thought for sure Fred or George were gonna blow it. George kept whispering, ‘We aren’t students anymore. What would she do if we popped out of thin air?’“ Ron seemed flustered just remembering the worry of relying on the twins to keep him out of trouble.

You looked at Ron; this part of the story was new to you. “Well that would’ve ruined my Oscar-worthy performance for sure.” Only Hermione giggled at that one.

“Well, all that matters is that you got the contraband up here.” Harry said, moving to sit on the floor as well. 

“You’re all welcome...” Ron groaned. Ginny and Neville sat on the floor too, so you were all sat around the coffee table between your respective couches. Everyone else muttered an obligatory thank you as Ginny opened the paper bag and reached into her knapsack, glassware tinkling as she dug around.

About an hour later, you were still slouched against the couch, but with a silly grin plastered to your face. Neville said your name, catching your attention.

“[y/n]?” Neville’s smile was broad, “You don’t have a cat, do you?”

This elicited soft laughter from everyone who heard him. You smiled and shook your head, “Nope. Made him up on the spot.”

Neville nodded, feigning seriousness, “I’m impressed [y/n].”

“Yeah, so was Fred.” Ron chuckled, just loud enough for you to hear. You felt your face grow warm at the thought. Unsatisfied with your lack of reaction, Ron nudged you and whispered again teasingly, “He was quite impressed, y’know.”

The conversation had moved along: Hermione was explaining the Oscars to Ginny and Neville, and Harry seemed as though he weren’t listening to anything at all. Sure no one would notice, you turned to Ron with a tiny grin, “Was he?”

Ron raised his eyebrows knowingly and nodded, “D’you wanna know a secret? Promised Fred not to tell, but that was before he nearly got me expelled.”

“God, you are such a blabbermouth when you’re inebriated,” You pretended to reprimand him, “Of course I want to know the secret.”

“Freddie asked me to bring you tonight.”

For a moment, you felt stone cold sober, “Really?”

“Swear it on your imaginary cat. I could’ve gone alone, but he wanted to see you.”

Your cheeks were hot again. Apparently, they were so red that it caught Harry’s attention.

“Blimey, Ron’s told her.” He announced, and everyone turned to see Ron’s cheeky smile and the silly proud smile that crept onto your face.

- - -

okay hopefully thats a nice little mix of sweet fluffy and cute funny Gryffindor Common Room socialization :) anyways I wish Ron was my bestie and i really hope you like this :)

#a lil request #my dear mutuals #i wrote this #fred weasley #ginny weasley #neville longbottom #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #george weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fanfic #ron weasley fanfic #ron weasley fic #fred weasley fluff

[wreckofawriter]

Games (soulmate au)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Word count: 2,382

Warnings: Making out?

Request: hi! It’s me again, could I request a Fred Weasley soulmate au? The type where their soulmates first word’s to them is tattooed on their body? Please make it fluffy and cute, thank you! :)

A/n: I am so sorry this was late. I had a grad party I forgot about! Also I'm probably going to have the other request out on Wednesday I'm so sorry but I have another grad party 2mmaro and I wont have time to write. Hope you guys like it!

The words in Fred's ankle had always been, well controversial at his household. His mother sure didn't like them. George thought they were hilarious. Ginny thought they were almost sad, sad that was how him and his soulmate would meet. Ron agreed with George, Percy thought they were ridiculous and his other brothers thoughts were pretty neutral. Fred simply thought they were odd. And as he looked down at the words, he couldn't help but smile, this was going to be one interesting person.

You snickered watching as your seeker checked his hair in the mirror again.

"You know Malfoy maybe if you spent less time putting grease in your hair and more time practicing then we would be winning for a change."

He whipped around glaring at you. "That's not very good team spirit y/l/n." He seethed.

"And since when are Slytherins known for their teamwork?"

He rolled his eyes and snatched his broom from the rack and joined the rest of the team in the horseshoe they had made around their captain.

You glanced around trying not to look as bored as you were. You have heard it a thousand times before; kick Gryffindors ass. Nothing new, except for the fact that your seeker was almost ok and theirs was amazing. Which meant it was basically up to you to score a shit ton of points before the snitch was caught. It was all quite stressful.

As you walked out onto the pitch you heard a mix of boos and cheers, the former as always, over powering the latter. You ignored the crowd and boarded your broom. You flew a couple feet in the air and waited for the whistle. When you took a deep breath and then sped upwards. If everything went right Montague should have the quaffle ready and waiting for you. And he did. You snatched the pass and made your way toward the goals where you could see Wood waiting.

You ducked under a bulger, dodged some girl in a red uniform and made for the large hoops. You reached for the quaffle tucked under your arms and shot it in the far left hoop. It soared through and you whipped around to get back to your position.

The game had been going for hours. It was hot and sunny and you had already ditched your outer layer. Currently you had scored 160 points, you were doing pretty well. All together your team had 210 points while Gryffindor was 50 points behind. Things were looking up.

You were headed towards the hoops once again the quaffle locked securely under your arm. You were about to shoot when out of nowhere something hit you straight in your side.

You dropped the quaffle and tipped off your broom with a scream. You managed to keep your feet wrapped around the handle and was hanging there attempting to reach your arms up. When you finally did, the pounding of your heart on your ears stopped and you could hear shrieking laughter.

You turned to see Fred Weasley pointing and laughing at you.

You flashed a brilliant shade of red before shouting, "If you don't shut up Weasley I'll shove that bat up your ass."

His smile dropped. A look of absolute astonishment replaced his joyful features. He felt his heart stop. You flew away with a scoff and an eye roll, you had no clue what you had just done to that boy.

For the rest of the match Fred could simply not focus. He hardly hit any blunders and most of them were completely off target. George scolded the boy and tried to get his head back in the game but it was helpless. He wanted to say something to you but what? What could he possibly say, "Oh hey what's up, your my soulmate by the way." It was all so stupid.

Gryffindor lost when Draco caught the snitch and Slytherin was celebrating in there locker room as Oliver almost killed Fred in their locker room.

"What the hell!" He yelled at the red head. "You couldn't hit a thing this whole match!"

"Look I'm sorry. I was distracted." Fred apologized.

Oliver didn't seem to care for his apologies at all. "You were doing fine." he sighed, "And then suddenly you knock y/l/n off her broom and you cant hit the broadside of a barn with a bludger."

"Look Wood, I'm sorry." Fred apologized again trying to make it sound sincere although his thoughts were elsewhere.

"What in Merlin's name could have made you so distracted any way Fred?"

Fred paused, the whole team was listening there was no way he was saying anything. "I just umm was?" He raised his eyebrows, hoping that his captain would buy it. Which of course he didn't.

"What eas it Weasley?" Oliver practically growled

Fred cast his gaze downwards trying to aviod eye contact with anyone.

"I swear to Merlin Wweasley if you don't tell me what gave Malfoy a free ride to the snitch I will-"

"She's my soulmate alright!?" Fred yelled his patients wore through.

"Wait, y/l/n is your soulmate?" It was George talking this time. His eyes were wide and mouth slightly agape, he was mimicking the rest of the team.

"Yeah." Fred looked down blushing a bit, he wasn't used to these situations. "But she doesnt know so don't tell her." He added quickly.

"Alright, sorry for laying into Fred." Oliver said.

"Its fine." He waved it off. He then turned to George panick in his eyes.

"How is she my soulmate?" Fred asked his twin desperate for an answer. They were now sitting in the Gryffindor common room eating candy they got from honeydukes.

"I don't know mate, but I wouldn't be too concerned. I mean she's hot." George pointed out, stuffing a chocolate frog in his mouth.

"Yeah but she’s Slytherin." Fred groaned.

"It probably won't be that bad Fred, you are destined to be together."

"How are we destined to be together? I mean we sure as hell aren't best buds." Fred said popping a fizzing whizbee in his mouth.

"So what," George started his voice muffled by chocolate, "You'll get along, just wait till Ron finds out he'll flip."

"Ok then what should I do?" Frdd asked

"You have to talk to her idiot." George pointed out.

"WWhat do I say?" The older twin asked.

The younger just shrugged, "Wwhatever you say will be on her ankle anyway so just try and make it romantic."

"Alright." Fred said still quite unsure on what to do.

You sat in potions trying not to laugh your ass off as Angelina a girl from Gryffindor totally ditched her potion.

You had finished ages ago and were simply waiting to be dismissed. You glanced down at your watch. Five minutes.

You had been anxious to get back to the quidditch pitch. You had to get in some more practice before the next match. You were playing hufflepuff and wanted to stick iit to Cadwallader. You had five gallons on the fact you would score more points then him in the upcoming match and you'd don't lose.

So when Snape finally said you could go you practically slept from your seat in excitement.

You sprinted down the hallways as quickly as you could only run striated into someone. You fell backwards landing hard on your butt and letting out a yelp of pain. You book bag had slid across the floor and hit the opposite wall of the thin hallway.

"Oh Merlin, are you alright?" A voice asAsked and you about passed out. Those were the words on your ankle. You looked up to see a mess of red hair with matching red robes and red cheeks. His eyes seemed to glow in the candlelight as he stuck his hand out for you to grab. You felt the heat rise in your face as well, since when was Fred Weasley so attractive?

"Shit, I said something didn't I." He looked upset, as he pulled you to your feet. You felt your face grow even brighter at contact with his surprisingly soft hands.

"Uh yeah ya did." You practically whispered your y/e/c eyes big as golf balls.

"So then you know?" He asked fidgeting with his robes.

"Know what?" You asked completely bewildered by the things that had happened in the past minute.

"That your my soulmate." He laughed.

"Yeah I guess I know that." You said your mind was going crazy. Fred Weasley was your soulmate? What? I mean sure he's incredibly good looking and funny and smart and great at quidditch but, what?!

"You probably don't even know which twin I am." He laughed a bit although the idea of his soulmate not knowing who he was hurt. "Im-"

"Fred." You finished for him. "I know who you are."

"Really?" Fred asked eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah I do. Wait, how did you know o was your soulmate?"

Fred blushed as your y/e/c eyes gleamed up at him. Your y/h/l y/h/c hair framed your face beautifully and he was suddenly struck with how attractive you are. Your face was dusted pink and it made you look incredible. "Well umm, remember when I knocked you off your broom yesterday?"

"Vividly" you answer eyes narrowed a bit, your arms now crossed.

"Well afterward you said-"

"If you don't shut up Wesley I'll shove that bat up your ass." You finished for him again doing your best to contain the laughter inside you. You failed miserably and burst with giggles. He thought it was the most amazing sound to ever grace his ears.

"Wait wait wait," you managed to squeak out still giggling, "Is that seriously tattooed on your ankle?"

"Yep." And to prove it Fred pulled his sock down and showed you the words printed on to his pale skin

You burst in a wave of fresh laughter, "I'm sure your mom loves that." You said between laughs.

"Glad you find my misfortune so hilarious." Fred said rolling his eyes playfully.

"Oh come on. If it was me with those words on my ankle you would be losing your shit." You pointed out still laughing.

"Your right, I should have said something closer to, 'Look where the fuck your going." As payback." He smirked and you burst into laughter once again.

"You should have!" You were crying with joy at this point, "It would have been one hell of conversation starter!"

Now Fred was laughing too, his smile bright. He looked down at your giggling form and he was once again talking by your beauty. Your eyes shining with tears and gleaming with joy. Your extremely soft looking lips a light pink color were stretched into a wide slightly lopsided smile.

As he stared your laughter died out and you had looked back up at him, you blushed a bit to find his gaze on you, "Like what you see Weasley?" You asked a cocky smirk on your lips.

"In fact I do." He said smirking right back and leaning down a bit to be somewhat level with your eyes.

"Well you aren't exactly ugly." You bit your lip as you did so and Fred about lost it. Keep it cool he reminded himself. So instead he placed his hand over his heart dropped his mouth and blinked a few times feigning hurt.

"That's what I get as a complement?" He asked in fake surprise, "I'm offended."

"Ever the dramatic Weasley." You smirked.

"I am quite a good actor." He said leaning closer to you, you could feel his breath on your cheek and your smirk dropped. He had to know that he was doing right? That wasn't fair.

"Im good at more than acting though." He winked, smirking as you blushed a deep crimson.

You attempted to stay on track, "A-and what else might you be good at? I haven't seen much." It would have been fine if you didn't stutter but damn he was really close to you and smelled like a mix of smoke and chocolate. It was completely infatuating.

"Oh, you'll see plenty." You wanted to smack the smirk off his face. He was playing with you, but you weren't in the mood for games anymore.

"Oh shut up." You whispered face burning. With that you yanked him down to meet you lips. He was clearly taken off guard but kissed back quite quickly once your lips moved against his. He quickly pushed you up against the wall and grabbed your waist. Your hands found their way to his fiery hair, it was surprisingly soft. You felt his tongue glide against your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, granting it access.

When he pulled away your lungs were burning and you gasped for air.

"I hope you know this doesn't change anything on the pitch." You said.

"Of course, I'm just going to have to make sure not to hit your face with any bludgers. Wouldn't want to ruin its beauty, would I?" He winked.

"What every weakness you show I will use to my advantage." You smirked shrugging.

"I like the sound of that." He winked again.

"Keep it up and you will only be able to blink with one eye." You said eyebrows raised.

"Winking won't do that." He pointed out.

"Yeah but me poking one of your eyes out will." You deadpanned.

"Has anyone ever told you your a little scary?" Fred asked as he leaned in again.

"Yep-" you were cut off by his lips.

"Y/l/n!"

You pushed Fred off of you to see Malfoy standing a few feet away a disgusted look etched on his face.

"Captain wants you, so get the Weasel’s tongue out of your throat so you can actually talk." He scoffed

"I'll see you later." You whispered to Fred. Before walking towards the platinum blonde. "You call him weasel again and I will cut your tongue off and make you eat it." You flashed the now terrified boy a cheeky smile and walking towards the pitch the young seeker sulking at your heels.

"See ya later Mouthful!" Fred shouted saluting the boy as he walked out the door.

Masterlist

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagines #fred x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley x oc #fred weasley deserved better #fred weasley x you #george weasley x oc #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george wealsey x reader #george weasley #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter au #harry potter imagine #harry potter #hogwarts #imagine #sirius black imagine #harry/draco #sirius black imagines #sirius black x reader #fred and george

[mfingenius]

hi sorry i’m annoying but could you do a drarry fic based on that chinese proverb about the red string of fate that ties their pinkies together? ((if you don’t want to/can’t it’s totally ok i just love your work and i know you have other projects planned))

Draco has always been able to see them, the red string; he’d mentioned it when he was a child, to his father, and Lucius had sneered and told him not to ever say it again.

Draco didn’t understand why; he knows now, though. Being able to see the strings is a sign of being a Seer - Draco’s visions started not long after his eighth birthday - and, to his father, it’s shameful.

So Draco has kept it a secret.

He could always see the red string around his pinkie, but he didn’t know whom it connected him to, at least until he was eleven. When he’d laid eyes on Harry Potter, everything in Draco’s heart had begun fluttering uselessly.

He hadn’t said a single word to him, even when Potter had smiled uncertainly at him, making it evident that Draco had been staring for too long.

Potter was sorted into Gryffindor, before the hat even touched his hair. With Draco, the hat had spent a good ten minutes thinking, making everyone whisper and stare, before finally sorting him into Ravenclaw.

Draco had thought he’d been wrong then, but, by now, well into his sixth year, he knows it wasn’t.

“Draco Malfoy I swear to god,” Hermione growls when he begins riffling through his bag. “If you didn’t do the homework again-”

Draco huffs the hair out of his eyes and rolls them. Hermione’s a Gryffindor, and one of Potter’s friends - her red string ties her with Ron Weasley, but Draco doesn’t think she knows it yet - but they’ve gotten to know each other because of their mutual love for potions, back when Hermione thought that Ravenclaws would be kindred spirits. She’s since discovered they aren’t, but by then her and Draco were already friends and she doesn’t abandon her friends.

“This subject’s fucking boring.” He complains. It’s not necessarily true; Draco loves History of Magic, but only when he can teach it to himself. Professor Binns somehow manages to turn a very exciting subject into a dreadfully boring one, however. “And I was doing something related anyways.”

He takes out his muggle notebook - since his parents divorced and his mum got a flat in the Muggle side of London, Draco has bought many muggle things - and flips it near the end. It’s an old, leatherbound notebook, that has everything of Draco’s notes on things he’s interested in. He’s had it since third year, and it’s full to bursting, but Draco keeps adding more pages magically and placing a lightening charm on it.

“Did you know that the sirens had a war with the Veela?” He asks excitedly, showing her his notes and sketches as they walk to the desk. Hermione leaves her homework on it, and then they walk out of the classroom. “It’s played down now, people say it was about beauty, but it totally wasn’t! They were allies, and then the wizards came and-”

“Draco,” Hermione interrupts, as they begin walking through the halls. “The homework was about the 1676 Legislation Act.”

Draco stares at her.

“You would rather read about the 1676 Legislation Act than the Siren War?” He asks incredulously.

“No!” Hermione says indignantly. “But it was the homework!”

“Who gives a fuck?” Draco asks, a little too loudly.

“Mr. Malfoy!” McGonagall’s voice, and Draco winces, turning to her - she has a stern frown on her face - and giving a sheepish smile. 

“Hello, Headmistress.” He says.

McGonagall purses her lips. “Detention, Mr. Malfoy.”

“But I-” Draco begins.

McGonagall gives him a pointed look, and Draco sighs. 

“Fine.”

*

When Draco goes into detention and finds himself face to face with Harry Potter, his entire face goes scarlet, and he stops breathing.

“It’s hot in here,” Harry agrees, misunderstanding the color in Draco’s face. “Why are you here?”

Draco pinches himself on the thigh to make himself say something.

“I - uh - I must have the wrong classroom.” He says, slowly, even though he remembers McGonagall specifically saying Potion’s Classroom.

In all of his years at Hogwarts, he’s never spoken to his soulmate. He wanted to keep it that way, until he could control every single thing about the situation and had the speech prepared. He doesn’t have a speech prepared.

This is going to be a disaster.

“You don’t, Mr. Malfoy.” McGonagall walks in, then, and she looks over the both of them critically. If Draco’s not wrong, she looks at their pinkies for a second - where Draco knows the red string is connecting them - but he must be, because she can’t see them. Nearly no one can. “Mmm, yes. This will work. Mr. Potter, your grades in potions are dreadful.” 

Harry looks offended.

McGonagall ignores him. “Mr. Malfoy, yours are perfect.” 

Potions is the only subject in which Draco’s grades are perfect, and only because the Professor - an ex-Ravenclaw who everyone calls Sparrow because she hasn’t given them her real name - praises curiosity and creativity more than following instructions - something that drives Hermione insane - and Draco always ends up not following the recipe because he wants to know what would happen if he added extra powdered moonstone to a healing-potion-turned-Immortality-Elixir-because-Draco-experimented-a-little-too-much. 

In case anyone’s wondering, it explodes.

“You’ll be tutoring Mr. Potter.”

Draco nods.

And then,

“Excuse me?” 

McGonagall cocks an eyebrow at him.

Draco can’t tutor Potter. Fuck. He can’t do this, he’ll make a fool out of himself and then somehow drive Potter away even though they’re soulmates, or he’ll somehow end up telling Potter about it because he’s distracted, or he’ll somehow kill Potter with one of his potions.

Potter’s frowning at him. “I’m not that useless, Malfoy. I’ll pay attention, I swear. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I could die, Draco wants to say.

Whether it’s from embarrassment or literally, he doesn’t know yet.

“Nothing,” he says hastily. “No problem at all. I, uh.”

He doesn’t know what to say.

“Very well,” McGonagall says. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“What?” Draco asks. He didn’t think McGonagall meant right now.

“Yes,” McGonagall says. “Mr. Potter wants to be an Auror. For that, you’ll need an O in Potions if you want to apply, Mr. Potter. You need to begin preparing now.”

Potter nods, and Draco stares at him.

“You’ll be brewing Amortentia.” McGonagall informs them.

“What?” Draco nearly shrieks. She has to be doing this on purpose, there is no way -

“It’s one of the hardest potions to brew,” McGonagall says with a raised eyebrow. “And I’m fairly sure it’s one of the few you can’t blow up. Or make a reviving draught from. Or somehow give yourself wings with. Or accidentally give either Mr. Weasley’s six arms-”

“That was in third year,” Draco complains, cheeks burning.

Fred and George had found it funny, but McGonagall had given Draco detention for the rest of the year, forbidden Professor Sparrow from giving him access to any more potions ingredients - she still does - and forbidden him from testing his potions on people again, even willing ones.

Draco does it in secret now, mostly with his fellow Ravenclaws, equally unruly and thirsty for knowledge.

“Go on.” McGonagall says. “I’ll be back in four hours.”

She closes the door behind her when she leaves.

*

Draco wants to work in silence, but his mind seems to be working too quickly for him to keep his mouth shut. He tells Harry what they need, what to do, and explains in painful detail any doubt Harry expresses.

He begins wondering what would happen if he added more rose thorns and forewent the pearl dust; it would probably make it more unstable, but if he doubles the ashwinder eggs and the peppermint he could probbaly make it into a very powerful-

“You’re thinking of turning it into something else,” Potter says, snapping Draco out of his thought process.

“Of course not,” Draco says weakly, cheeks warming.

“You are,” Harry grins. “I know that face. I’ve seen you make it in Potions right before you begin to change ingredients.”

“I don’t - you watch me in potions?” Draco’s dumbstruck.

Harry’s cheeks darken, visible even with his dark skin, and he looks down to where he’s measuring the powdered moonstone.

“It’s… entertaining.” Harry defends. “You’re the most interesting thing in that class.” He goes redder. “I mean - I don’t - it sounds wrong.”

Draco thinks it sounds perfect.

“Why an Auror?” he asks, trying to make Harry more comfortable, because he’s looking like he wants to flee.

“My mum is one.” Harry grins tentatively. “She’s… very passionate about what’s right and what’s wrong. I think she passed it on to me.”

One could say that, Draco thinks.

He’s seen how passionate Potter is about everything that matters to him, and he’s always admired it. In fact, he thinks it’s his favorite thing about Potter.

“What about you?” Potter asks.

“What?” Draco asks.

“What do you want to do?” Potter asks. He waves a hand. “In life, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” Draco says honestly. “I don’t think I could stand being stuck in a building.” Potter nods understandingly, and Draco continues. “I just - want to do something where I can do my thing.”

Potter hums, and he sounds sincere when he says, “I hope you find something you like.”

Draco smiles hesitantly.

*

“We brewed this,” Harry’s immensely impressed. He’d never thought him and Draco Malfoy would be able to finish the potion; between the fact that Draco’s easily distracted and Harry’s uselessness in potions, he thought surely this would blow up.

It hasn’t.

“We brewed this.” He repeats.

Draco laughs.

It’s a pretty laugh.

“Yes, we did,” he says. His cheeks are red from the heat of the potion, and his sleeves are rolled up. He looks untidy, happy, and Harry wants to kiss him.

He doesn’t.

“Go on,” Draco smiles and leans back, perching himself on the edge of a stool. “What do you smell?”

Harry leans over the cauldron and takes a deep breath.

“Treacle tart,” he says immediately. “Broom polish. Rain, I think.”

The Gryffindor common Room. 

Draco Malfoy.

He pulls back.

“I don’t know what the rest is,” he lies.

Draco nods, and before Harry can ask what he smells, the door opens.

“That was four hours.” McGonagall looks over the potion critically, and then over the two of them. “Good. Clean this up, and then you can go.”

They clean quickly - Draco seems desperate to get out of there - and when they’re out the door, Harry does something impulsive.

“Draco!” He calls.

Draco turns to him, cheeks still red - odd - and gives a tiny smile. “Yeah?”

“Tutor me again next Saturday?” Harry asks hopefully. He’ll get the courage to ask him out, then. He will.

Draco’s face shows surprise, and then it morphs into happiness. “Oh. Yes. Yeah, alright. It’s a date.” And then his face goes scarlet and he stutters out an apology before feeling.

Harry smiles all the way back to his dorm.

-----------------------------------------

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[lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean]

La Pomme ~ Chapter Five

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 4,300

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks later-and still no closer to finding MichaelDean-Jack was searching the bunker for Sam or Cas. He was having a shit day and needed to talk to someone, but so far his search was turning up empty. In fact, it seemed like the whole bunker was empty. He had a bad feeling that they'd all taken off for hunts and left without telling him. Again.

He'd just turned down the hallway along the kitchen, heading back to his room to stew, when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. His head jerked toward it and he saw someone, dressed in thick black leggings and a grey racerback tank top with a solid purple flannel button down on top, opening the door to the fridge. It was that strange blonde woman again, the one he'd seen in Sam's room weeks ago. Maybe she knew where he was?

Walking into the kitchen, he began, "Hello agai-"

"Ah!" The woman leapt about a foot in the air and whirled around to him, the fridge door slamming closed. When she saw it was just him, she placed a hand on her chest and sighed, "Damn, dude."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," He apologized. "George, right?" She nodded hesitantly and he asked, "Have you seen Sam or Castiel anywhere?"

George shrugged casually and said, "No, but I think I heard someone say Sam left last night on a rougarou run to Dunning?" More like, you know he's on a rougarou run in Dunning because you've refused to leave your room for the last few weeks if he's in the bunker. She'd successfully been able to avoid Sam since waking up in his bed. That had been dangerous territory, so she'd been taking extra precautions to avoid him, and most everyone else, since. Which made it somewhat difficult to try and track down Rowena, who, George noticed, had seemingly done nothing to try and track HER down so far. She was beyond ticked with her now.

"Oh," Jack looked crestfallen and slowly nodded his head, "Alright. Thanks."

When Jack turned to leavesee she couldn't help herself and called, "Hey, wait…" He turned back toward her reluctantly and she almost lost her nerve, you shouldn't be doing this, "Uhh… what can I do to help?" He frowned at her and she squirmed awkwardly, "Sorry, I realize you don't know me at all, but… you seem upset, so I had to ask."

He considered her for a minute and then sighed frustratedly, "Sam-and everyone else-just keeps… leaving without telling me and-"

"You keep getting left behind?" She asked sympathetically. When he gave her an annoyed look, she smiled a little, "Sorry. I was left out a lot growing up, so I know how frustrating it can feel."

Jack's shoulders slumped and he let out an annoyed huff, sitting down at the kitchen table. "Now that my powers are gone, they all treat me like a child. They don't think I can handle anything! I'm not useless, I can do things! I can hunt! Or, at least I can be taught how to hunt, but they're all too busy!"

George deep sighed empathetically and moved to sit across from him, "Jack, you're not useless... you are young, though. And that's not a bad thing! But it does mean that sometimes you aren't ready to do certain things, even when it feels like you are." The look on his face didn't change and she smirked, "I know that isn't what you want to hear. I'm sure you'll want to hear this even less, but I wish I'd had this advice when I was your age so here you go: take the opportunity to enjoy being young and carefree and protected, even when it feels frustrating. Because… trust me when I say that you're lucky to have it and it really won't last."

"How can I enjoy it when I'm so pissed all the time?" Jack whined defeatedly. He seemed amenable to her advice but didn't know where to start.

She chuckled and shrugged, "Well, when I was a lonely, angsty teen-no offense-I used music. And video games… and food," She finished with a jokingly regrettable tone. "I wouldn't take my advice on the food, though," with a small smile she patted her fluffy midsection and he smiled with her.

Jack was studying her for a minute before asking, "What kind of music?"

"Oh, only the most angsty teen pop music the early aughts could provide: Linkin Park, Good Charlotte, Evanescence, Avril Lavigne-not the singles, the albums."

"Dean discourages pop music."

"Shocking," George muttered with a chuckle.

"What?" He asked curiously.

She shook her head, "Nothing-er-OK, so maybe not music. Have you got any video games here?"

Jack shook his head, "No."

George smirked and asked, "Let me guess, Dean discourages those too?"

Jack nodded and said, "He says it's because they'll rot my brain, but I'm pretty sure he just doesn't know how to play them and feels intimidated."

George laughed, "Yea, I would say that was probably a guarantee. The last time in his life he'd have had the luxury to play them was probably Atari?" Jack gave her a funny look. How would she know? Noticing the look she said quickly, "I mean, I assume. He just has that super old guy vibe ya know?"

Jack accepted her explanation and asked, "What kind of video games did you play?"

"Lots of different kinds. My favorite is probably N64. Those games were the best. Resident Evil, Goldeneye, Donkey Kong, Banjo Kazooie! All were personal favorites."

"Are those games still around? Can you still play them?" Jack wondered.

"If you buy all the equipment, yea? You have to get them used, probably Ebay or Gamestop or whatever."

"Gamestop?" He asked excitedly. "I know that place! There's one in town not far from here! Would they have the video games you're talking about?"

George looked confused. Why did he sound so excited all of a sudden? "Er… maybe, but-"

"Let's go!"

"WHAT?! Absolutely not."

"Please! You said video games would be a good distraction!"

"Jack, are you kidding? If Sam and Dean found out I took you out of the bunker without your powers, they'd have to stand in line behind Castiel to strangle me!"

"Please!" He begged.

She tried to be logical, "I-I don't have any money."

"Dean gave me a credit card!"

Damn. Instead she reasoned, "How would we get there?"

"I know where they keep the keys to Baby?"

Her face fell instantly and she asked, "Do you genuinely want to see me dead, Jack? If so, there are far less painful ways to accomplish that."

"Can't you drive?"

"Yes, I can drive, but there is no way we are doing this-especially not in that car. I cannot stress enough how badly this would turn out. This is literally the start of every episode! And when the bad idea goes wrong? You end up kidnapped and I end up dead!... Or worse: Winchestered!" When he just looked at her, confused, she said simply, "Jack, I'm sorry, but it's really not a good idea for us to leave the bunker. I can't fight, like, at all. If we got into a hairy situation, I couldn't do anything to protect you!"

He ignored her and kept begging, "George, please! You said that I needed to appreciate the opportunity to be young and to enjoy my time stuck here, so! Help me! We can take someone else with us, someone who can protect us both?"

Frowning at the desperate expression on his young, naive, baby face, she started considering it. I mean, if we took someone with us who knew how to fight it couldn't be that bad of an idea right? We could be in and out! Suddenly, every episode of Supernatural flooded her brain at once and she winced, shaking her head, "I'm sorry, but no, Jack. There is no one here that I would trust to be able to protect you enough to agree to do this."

"What about me?" Both of their necks snapped toward the doorway and found Sam standing there with an amused smile on his gorgeous, bearded face.

Whoa. George's jaw dropped. If she'd known he'd been growing that, she wouldn't have been avoiding him so hard. She was definitely feeling some kinda way about that beard.

"Sam!" Jack said nervously. "We were ju-"

"Planning to sneak out the window past curfew and go buy video games?" Sam shook his head with a couple teasing tsks and George couldn't help but chuckle.

Jack frowned, looking over at her and then back to Sam, "No... there aren't any windows in the bunker? We were just going to take one of the cars from the garage and drive there."

"No. We weren't!" George stood up and pointed a finger at him adamantly, "We weren't going to do anything that involved leaving or driving Baby or risking your life in any way!"

"Well, whatever you were doing," Sam interjected calmly and firmly, taking a step into the room, "I actually don't think it's a bad idea."

Jack leapt up excitedly, "Really?!" George echoed his excited 'really' with a surprised one of her own.

"Yeah. I know these last few weeks have been hard on you and if it'll help relieve some of the frustration and boredom, then," Sam paused, mulling it over before nodding, "why not?"

"Thanks, Sam!" Jack looked at George with an excited expression and she couldn't help but smile nervously at him.

"You're welcome," Sam smiled kindly, then added, "But I need a shower first. Give me 30 minutes?"

Jack nodded happily and then scurried off to wait, Sam slapping a hand on his back gently as he exited. When Sam turned back to George, she looked nervous still.

With a gulp, she asked, "Thought you were in Dunning?" Damn if he didn't look hot with that beard.

"Another team got there first. Didn't need the help after all," He explained. "You been checking on me?" He asked curiously.

Her mouth dropped open and she sputtered out a quick and pointed, "No!" giving him an offended expression, though the blush was hard to miss. She found his face frustratingly unreadable. Worried that he might be annoyed about their scheming, she tried to relax a bit and cleared her throat, "Listen, I'm really sorry. I was just trying to cheer him up; I never expected him to get the idea to leave the bunker. And-and, I never would have-"

"It's OK, you don't have to explain," Sam assured her, "I heard you guys talking. I know it was him. He has a tendency to get an idea and run with it; it's exhausting sometimes," He chortled, rubbing a tired hand over his face and she smiled understandingly.

George had a realization and frowned, asking, "Er… exactly how long were you listening?"

"Hmm, I got here right around…" He closed one eye in mock contemplation and finished with a smirk, "Avril Lavigne?"

George rolled her eyes in embarrassment and said, "OK, hold on. Listen, I'm not saying the singles! The albums have good stuff, very different from what the record company tried to force her singles to be. You have to hear the album before you judge, Sam! And I was a teenager!"

He chuckled and held his hands up. Despite the grin on his face he managed a serious tone, "Hey, I'm no hater boi."

Pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes tightly, she muttered, "Ugh, Christ."

She heard him practically giggle and then say, "I'm sure it's complicated."

"Cool. Well, I'm just going to go ahead and leave now," George said pointedly, glaring at him playfully. He laughed, watching her head for the exit. She paused at the doorway to pat him on the shoulder roughly, "Let you get ready for your Father-Son bonding time."

"Hold up, you're coming with us, right?" Sam asked, suddenly looking concerned.

George, who was out in the hallway by now, turned back with a surprised expression and shrugged, "No?"

Sam gave her a look of impatience, "How will we know what to get?"

"Uh… I can make you a list?"

"What if we can't find something?"

"Congratulations, you just discovered what sales associates are for!" She cracked, smirking at his impish questioning. He knew darn well that they did not need her to go.

Sam narrowed his eyes at her stubbornness and finally pointed out, "I think Jack would like you to come."

Suddenly her expression was dubious and she said, "I doubt that. He barely knows me, we just met. Or-sort of," She blushed suddenly remembering the reason she'd been avoiding Sam in the first place. The memory of waking up in his bed conjured up in her mindseye in an instant. With a swallow, she insisted, "He just needed an adult to take him to the store and you're here now, so-"

Sam cut her off gently, "Listen, I heard most of that conversation. You were connecting with him, George. Making him feel better, which I can tell you from experience is not easy to do. I could be wrong here, but I think this is something he would like to share with you." There was a nervous, maybe even panicked expression on her face and she didn't respond.

Sam took a few steps into the hallway to stand in front of her and smiled charmingly, admitting, "And, I would like it if you came, too."

She furrowed her brow at him suspiciously, her heart beating faster all of a sudden, "You would?"

Sam nodded, "Yea. Do you know how long I've been checking my corners for beautiful women?" When her jaw dropped satisfyingly, he looked at his watch and said, "So, thirty minutes, right? More like twenty five now, I better hurry!" then walked briskly away with a wink.

Blinking rapidly, she stood there staring dumbfounded into the now empty hallway. Since when was Sam Mr. Smooth with the lines around here?!

After being frozen in place for too long, she looked up at the ceiling again and said, "OK, seriously, if anyone is recording this, I'll give you whatever you want for a copy of that, too!"

Then, shaking herself out of her stupor she panicked. She's supposed to be staying away from these people, not joining them on outings! What was she thinking? This was such a bad idea.

George sat in her tiny room of requirement, mulling over her options.

Option one, "Don't Fuck Up the Timeline," was to make an excuse and stay behind, avoiding people at all costs from now on. No more making friends with the sad little half-angels! And certainly no more thinking about Sam's beard.

Option two, "Sam's Beard (working title)," was taking advantage of a once in a lifetime opportunity by tagging along on this risky misadventure and enjoying herself.

On one hand she knew from watching shows exactly like this that screwing with a timeline could have disastrous results. But, on the other hand, it sounded like fun. And she'd been cooped up in this bunker for weeks! Plus, Sam said he wanted her to go. How could she say no to that bea-to him?

With a frustrated growl she launched herself up off the bed and stomped out of the room. She knew what she had to do.

George nervously walked up to Sam's bedroom door. You just have to tell him: you can't go. Period. Maybe Jack will be disappointed but… he'll get over it! You can't be messing around with the storylines; God knows what ramifications it could have! God knows what you've already fucked up by interacting with them! You have to stay away!

But… Did it kinda seem like Sam liked her…? Like, like-liked her. At the very least she was getting serious DTF vibes, and it was making her positively gooey. She definitely didn't remember him being so… forward on the show. Wasn't he the shy one? Either way, it was incredibly attractive. And with that damn beard? Her loins were on fire. She always knew he'd look amazing with some facial hair.

Ugh, stop it! You're being r.i.d.i.c.u.l.o.u.s. Sam Winchester. Does not. Like you! You have to keep your distance and wait for Rowena to send you back. You're risking messing with the entire fabric of the Supernatural universe and, in turn, your own! And you call yourself a fan, you should be ashamed. What is wrong with you?

Then again, you did wake up in his bed… The thought made her heart skip a beat and her head pound with frustration. As curious as she was, she knew it was dangerous territory to explore. With a deep, calming breath, she knocked herself on the forehead sharply a couple times before reaching up and knocking on his door next.

When it opened a few moments later, she was face to chest with the gorgeous giant, who was currently dressed in dark jeans and a grey, short-sleeved, v-neck undershirt. She guessed she'd interrupted him before he'd had a chance to throw on his trademark plaid on top. It was a disconcerting look, one she wasn't used to from him; almost like seeing him naked.

Oh, please don't go there.

Slowly, she looked up and her mouth went dry. His beautiful hair was still wet from the shower and slicked back out of his face. The scruffy beard was still there, too; praise Jesus.

When she met his eye, there was a happy, curious expression on his face. He reached a muscled arm up and looked at his watch, asking "Am I late? I'm almost rea-"

"Nono, no. You aren't late." Cutting him off gently, she shook her head, "I just came to give you this," she held out a piece of paper to him, which he took with a raised brow. "And to say that, as much as I'd like to, I can't go with you. It's just... safer that way," She finished vaguely.

"Safer?"

She nodded definitively, trying to sound firm without getting specific, "Yes, safer. Too many things could go wrong."

"At Gamestop?" He smirked suspiciously.

George narrowed her eyes and thought about it for a moment. Of course, she'd meant 'on Supernatural' but she obviously couldn't tell him that so she nodded slowly, "Right… at Gamestop. Sure… I mean, they'll let any riff raff in there."

Sam looked down at the list of video game supplies, amused yet confused. When he looked back at her face he said, half smiling, "OK… well, not to sound full-of-myself, but I think I can handle any potential 'riff raff'."

"I-I know, I know!" She placed a fingertip on either side of her forehead and squeezed. Good lord. OK, just stay focused. Do. Not. Go. "I have no doubt that you're very willing and able to handle things." She eyed his large arms appreciatively and then cleared her throat, "It's just… um, you just never know what could happen-especially here," his eyebrow furrowed curiously at the emphasis, "er-I mean, at Gamestop. And if-God forbid-anything did happen and my presence somehow… negatively affected things… like your ability to protect Jack-er, uh..." The curiously amused expression he was giving her was causing her to stumble. She took another deep breath and refocused: "This is supposed to be a fun experience for Jack, right? I just think it's important that that's the focus. That list is everything you'll need for him to get set up. If they don't have the games I listed," she pointed to the list in his hands and he looked down at it again, "there are plenty of others that I'm sure the workers can recommend."

Sam started to talk and she caved, cutting him off again, "And-and if this is really something he wanted me to be part of-which I'm still dubious about-then, I'll be here when you guys get back! I can help get him set up and show him a few of the games. I don't mind that, I... guess," She finished with a small gulp. She knew it was best to stay away completely but she had a feeling it was a little too late now. "I just don't think leaving the bunker is a good idea. For me. Please." She finally met his eye and pleaded a little, "Sam, if anything happened to him or to-to you, I could never forgive myself." And neither would hundreds of thousands of fans.

Sam's expression was half curious, half amused, and all charmed. He thought for a moment, looked back down at the list, and then nodded slowly. His smile was kind as he said, "OK. If you feel that strongly about it, then stay."

"Thank you." She let out a relieved sigh, then grimaced a bit.

"You OK?" Sam asked with a concerned half-smile.

"I just… I know staying back is the right thing, but I feel bad." She admitted with a small shrug. "Do you really think Jack is going to be disappointed?"

Sam's eyes softened and he shrugged softly before turning and walking back into his room. As he picked up a green and black checkered plaid shirt that was laying on his bed and put it on, he said, "I think so, a little bit, but I can handle it. Not to worry." As he buttoned the shirt, he slipped his feet into his giant shoes.

He'd been about to say something about his personal disappointment at her staying-something he'd hoped would make her jaw drop adorably once again. But her eyes were roving his room with a pensive expression and it caused him to pause. He raised an eyebrow, watching her. Something about her had seemed vaguely familiar since he first saw her in that hallway. Yet, he still couldn't place her, which bothered him; it was unusual for him not to remember a name with a face. He had a great memory.

Is she someone we helped on a hunt? Maybe she went to Stanford? Did we… have a fling at some point? Nothing was jogging his memory, but he felt strangely, intimately drawn to her.

"George, can I ask… Ha-have we met before?" Narrowing his eyes in thought he added, "Did you go to Stanford? Maybe we shared a class?"

George looked at him like he was crazy, "Uh… er… Uh, see, I'm not-" As she stuttered out a response, he kicked himself.

She's from Apocalypse World! Moron. Obviously, it wasn't possible that they'd met before.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry. What a stupid question." Sam shook his head, chuckling in embarrassment. "You just… you look familiar, so I was just trying to figure out the connection," He trailed off, staring at her curiously again.

"Oh?" Was all she could muster, squirming uncomfortably under his gaze. She was horribly embarrassed to admit even to herself that she felt a strong pull from him, too. Something about him put her at ease while simultaneously making her want to burst into a million happy pieces and cover the world in a confetti of her joy and love. Hell, something about being here at all eased all her normal feelings of depression and unrest so wonderfully, she'd hardly put that much effort into tracking Rowena down at all, not that she'd admit that to anyone. But, obviously, the only reason she felt like this was just the amazement, the adventure, the celebrity of it all, and especially him. She knew there was no way in this universe they'd ever met; the last thing she needed was him taking an interest either way.

Swallowing any further conversation she might have been tempted to engage in, she began to step back from his doorway slowly but said quickly, "Yea, ya know, people tell me I have one of those faces. Anyway, tell Jack I'm really sorry and to have fun. I can come find you in a bit to see what ya'll come back with?" Just before turning and fleeing she said, "Oh, and make sure to get a couple extra controllers. Those are always the first to break, especially when you're just starting."

Before he could stop her, she left down the hallway and turned a corner. He almost went after her but then couldn't think of a valid reason. She wasn't coming and Jack was waiting for him. So, he grabbed his gun, collected the keys, and hoped it wouldn't be another three weeks before he saw her again.

#sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester x original character #sam winchester x original female character #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #eventual fluff #eventual romance #humor #swearing #eventual smut #sam winchester series #eventual dean winchester x oc #eventual dean winchester x castiel

[bottomtonyhoe]

Drama Kings - Chapter 2

“ Where the fuck were you ? “ Jensen is welcomed by his mom’s angry voice .

“School , apparently . “ He kicks off his Nike’s near the door , then neatly places them in his shoe bin .

“ No . Mr. Sheppard called and told me why you skipped 7th period “ She scolds , placing a hand on her hip .

Screw you , accent asshole who can’t keep his mouth shut .

“ So ? It is not like I skipped the whole day , and hey I got a nearly perfect score in Maths in the last test , so I am good “ . It was true . He knows people take him for a dumb jock who probably inherited his dad’s IQ level , but he never had a problem with the material . He just hated listening to teachers rambling about their glory days .

“ It is not your grades I’m worried about “ She snaps and Jensen snorts . He wasn’t going to have this conversation .

“ I’m going to my room “ he practically runs upstairs , ignoring all the yelling and shutting the door behind him .

God . His room is such a mess .

_________________________________________

Jared spends the rest of the evening texting Gen and Misha . They go on and on about their summer vacation and their funny memories together . Jared warms up to them quicker than he thought , although they are a little weird to be completely honest .

He tries to distract himself with homework so he won’t think about his earlier , rather embarrassing encounter with his crazily hot neighbor . It only works for a few minutes , until he hears a loud guitar coming from the window opposite to his . Led Zeppelin voice blasts across the room and he walks towards his window . the houses aren’t even that close to each other , What the fuck is wrong with this person ?

“ Hey ! Could you turn this down ? HEY ! “ Jared yells and bangs his hand against the window , finally getting the attention of whoever that disrespectful brat was .

Except , he didn’t expect this when the curtains were moved aside .

The hot neighbor from earlier turns to be the next door brat who blasted both their windows with Metallic rock . He looks at him for a moment , then turns off the music .

“ Sorry , man . I am not used to people living in this house . It won’t happen again . “ He says scratching the back of his neck .

If God wanted to purposefully punish him , he wouldn’t create such a perfect looking human being with an equally perfect , deep voice . God dammit .

“ It’s fine “ Jared says and urges himself to move , but he feels glued to the floor .

“ I saw you earlier . You go to my school , right? “ the boy asks , leaning against his window frame . Jared tries not to stutter as he answers .

“ Yeah , I’m Jared by the way “

“ Jensen , So are you a senior too ? “

As in ‘ Asshole quarterback star ‘ Jensen freaking Ackles . This is a cosmic bad joke that God is probably playing . The boy next door is practically Regina George , no matter how dramatic that sounds .

“ Y-yeah , I am “ Jared hears himself say weakly .

“ Ok then . See you tomorrow , Jared “ Jensen throws a bright , too goddamn charming smile his way .

It takes longer this time to remember how to breathe .

Jensen sits down on his bed and writes ‘ Jared ‘ down on his Facebook search . he scrolls through the list of Jareds till he finds a ‘ Jared Padalecki ‘ with a profile picture of the boy grinning , and damn , those dimples .

He knows he shouldn’t be stalking the kid on social media , but he does it anyways . After a few minutes of scrolling , he finds out that the boy used to live in LA before he moved to Chicago . He had a golden retriever dog , but he passed away , but that’s all .

Jensen did that because he is curious . He doesn’t find Jared any more interesting than any other new kid . He is just curious , that’s all .

_____________________________

“ YOUR FUCKING NEIGHBOR “ Jared had to hold his right ear , to protect it from Gen’s mental freak out . He really shouldn’t have told her .

“ That would be an awesome romantic movie , except oh , Jensen is straight “ Misha says , digging through his cheese burger ,

“ Wait , how-“

“ How did I know you liked dicks . You stare dude , not that I mind . Hot stuff “ Misha winks at the last phrase . Jared knows he is bi . he has it on his instagram bio . Who does that ?

“ He practically tried to shatter our windows with Led Zeppelin music “ Jared says , changing the topic

“ Asshole “ Misha sings .

The three of them walk to math class . He looks up to see Jensen taking a seat in front of him .

“ Hey , Jared . “ Jensen turns around , flashing him one of his charming smiles . His freckles are even more fascinating up close . Jared finds himself smiling .

“ So , You are coming to today’s game ?” Jensen asks and Jared shrugs

“ I don’t know . I’m not really into football .”

“ You don’t have to be . Just come watch . Maybe I can make you like it “ . A smirk spreads on his flawless lips and Jared gulps .

God . Is he flirting ? He is straight , right ?

“ Alright “

Then Mrs. Rhee walks in the class and Jensen turns around , a smile still plastered on his face .

God . Jared is royally fucked .

_____________________

Later on , Jared sits on the first bench next to Gen , who starts telling him the names of football players .

“ And this is Tyler Lockwood . A homophobic son of a whore who happens to be your neighbor’s brother in crime . Another reason why I hate the football team , and why Misha had gone home by now . “

Wow . So he wasn’t flirting at all .

“ A bad apple doesn’t spoil the whole bunch “ Jared didn’t know why ( or who ) he was defending .

“ Don’t tell me you got the hots for Ackles “ She whispers , as if it was highly confidential .

“ God Gen . No , I am not dumb enough to like a straight guy “

Or is he ?

“ You’d better not be , Padalecki “ then Gen looks straight ahead .

He doesn’t understand why they don’t like him that much . He was pretty nice to Jared and apart from arrogance and loud music , he is bearable .

But again , he only spoke to him for 2 minutes .

“ Here he comes “

________________________

Apparantly , Jared likes football .

No , He likes how Jensen plays football . They won the game , thanks to him . Jensen takes off his helmet , enjoying the glory of being the star of the match . His name is being chanted , people are praising him and the coach pats his shoulder roughly , with a proud smile on his face .

Jensen looks up at him and their eyes lock , then suddenly , he doesn’t hear all those cheers . He can only see Jensen’s beautiful smile , just for him , and his forest green eyes . He returns the smile with a grin and mouths “ great job “ which seems to widen Jensen’s smile and earn him a wink .

Wait , did he just wink at him ? Wow .

“ Did he just ? “ Gen asks , confusion dancing around her face .

Jared takes a deep breathe , then shrugs

______________________

“ You nailed it “ Jensen hears Tyler praise before he feels his bone crushing embrace . God , they both stink .

“ I know , right ? “ Jensen smiles and Ty punches his arm , both undressing .

See ? Jensen doesn’t find guys hot , doesn’t stare . Why the fuck is Jared so different ? or so beautiful ?

“ Did you see Osric today ? “ Ty asks , getting in the shower and closing the door behind him . Jensen does the same and takes off the rest of his clothes , letting the hot water run down his body .

“ Why ? didn’t do your homework ?”

“ Damn straight . He said he’d do it , but I can’t find him anywhere and Mr, Physics bullshit gave me a load of crap “

Jensen chuckles . typical asshole .

“ So what will you do when we find him ? “ Jensen quickly puts on his black V-neck T-shirt , boxers and black jeans .

“ We ? thought you told me to do my homework myself , Ackles .” Ty says getting out of the shower , fully dressed .

“ I’m feeling generous today . And hey , the kid went back on his word . He has it coming “ Jensen smirks . the truth is , he has nothing to do for the rest of the day and also , he wants to forget all about the Padalecki boy . He won’t act all jerk towards Osric . In fact , it is much better if he is there to hold Ty back . His friend was 10 times the asshole he was .

“ He is probably in the library .Physics advanced class has this new project , so he is probably researching “ he says packing my gym bag .

“ How the fuck do you know ? “ Ty frowns , folding his shoulders

“ Because I passed its test and they added me to their telegram group “ Jensen mumbles , hearing him gasp .

“ You what ? “

“ Dude , it was an IQ test . I didn’t even study much for it and if it makes you feel better , I haven’t attended a single one “ Jensen snaps , not believing Ty became that much of an asshole that he had to explain himself to him . He just chuckles .

“ Man , I should make you do my homework “ He grins .

“ Bite me “ and he snorts .

___________

“ Thermodynamics are ten times easier than this Shakespeare novel , I swear “ Osric says smiling and Jared chuckles .

Jared met the kid in the library , helping him search for Henry’s gas law reference . And the conversation just kept flowing , mostly about English and Physics . Exchanging information and that kind of shit .

They hear footsteps and they both turn to the source . Jensen Ackles and Tyler Lockwood stand near the entrance and he locks eyes with Jensen , but Tyler moves to their table and grabs Osric by his collar , making him stand up .

“ So , you still think it is a good idea not to do my homework ? “ Tyler hisses in his face and Jared’s eyes widen . So that’s why Misha and Gen hate these two . God . He thought Jensen wasn’t that low .

“ Hey ! Leave him alone “ Jared says stepping closer to Lockwood , who gives him a rather amused expression .

“ Look what we got here “ Tyler says and lets go of Osric , turning his full attention to Jared .

Jared wasn’t at all defenseless . He worked out , he wasn’t as built as Tyler but still tall enough . He knew how to fight , he just hated it .

“ Hey hey ! Back the fuck off “ Jensen’s voice rings across the library and he stands in front of Tyler .

“ Your problem is with Osric. Leave the kid alone “ Jensen says getting in his face . If Jared was in Tyler’s shoes , he would be scared shitless right now .

“ You’re scared of that pussy or what ? “ Tyler asks , clearly irritated .

“ You call him that one more time and you will face me . He is with me “ Jensen snaps .

He shouldn’t stand like a girl , feeling all warm while watching a guy defend his honor , but he does . He feels protected , almost enough to make him forget what kind of douchebag was protecting his ass , or making him blush .

“ Whatever , man “ Tyler pushes Jensen away and storms out of the library .

“ Hey . Are you ok kid ? “ He asks Osric and Jared narrows his eyes .

“ Now you’re all concerned ? “ Jared asks , not helping the small stutter in his words .

“ Look , I didn’t know he was your friend “ Jensen looks at his eyes . and goddamn it is not the time for Jared to stare right now .

“ And it would be ok if he wasn’t ? “He folds his arms . Jensen opens his mouth to say something and then he closes it again . His hands close into fists . Jared can’t help but notice the veins in his arms . Not fucking now .

“ You know what ? If I didn’t step in , your bacon would be toast . so how about a little credit ? “ He snaps and Jared can’t help but flinch . He looks at Jared for a moment then he storms out of the library .

It really isn’t the time to think about how hot Jensen looked while angry . and why the fuck is Jared blushing right now ?

———————

Next update is next week ♥️

Chapter-1

Masterlist

#supernatural #j2 #wincest #sammy #Top Jensen #bottom Jared #Protective Jensen #Jensen Ackles #Jared Padalecki #Highschool #Teens #Asshole Jensen #sam winchester #dean winchester #top dean #bottom sam #J2 fic #m/m romance