writingonwings

[writingonwings]

Nightmares - B.R.

✵ Bob Reynolds x fem!reader

✵ Summary: Bob had been exceptionally good at keeping his nightmares on the down-low. But a particularly bad night can throw the entire tower into chaos.

✵ Warnings: Oh boy, I got carried away. Angst, substance abuse, unhealthy use of alcohol, domestic and child abuse, violence, terror, recurring nightmares (trauma-related), symptoms of ptsd and anxiety, this is pretty heavy stuff. A little fluff at the end to tie it up in a nice bow.

✵ Word count: 6.3k

✵ Notes: Thank you so so much for all the love on my first Bob piece. I adore him and can't wait to write more

The lights flickered once and then twice, leaving you temporarily blinded in the dark living room. It wasn’t the first time that night.

The malfunctions started not long after everyone had retreated to their rooms, just a very quick off and on. You didn’t think much of it at first, falling asleep under the assumption it was just an electrical issue. But by the latest hours of the night, it had become much worse. 

You woke to a slow rumble in the building that seemed rooted from the frame itself. A hand reached out for your lamp and flipped the switch, only to be met with static flashes of light as it struggled to turn on. Startled, you pulled your hand back and reached for your phone instead, pressing the flashlight. That, thankfully, switched on with no issues.

Looking around, nothing about your room looked out of place. Everything the dim little light landed on was exactly where you left it when you went to bed.

Another flicker from your lamp and you were convinced to continue investigating. Silently, you slid out of your warm bed and stepped onto the cold floor below it. The shiver that followed was extremely unpleasant, so you took your blanket with you and wrapped it tightly around your shoulders. 

You worked your way around your bed, setting a hand on the window beside you. Everything was still again. So you waited there and let the silence ring in your ears. Just as you were ready to return to your bed, the glass rattled, shooing your hand away with the movement. Something was definitely wrong.

With a flashlight in one hand and your blanket bunched up in the other, you crossed the room to the door. Your blanket hand managed to free up just enough space to take hold of the door knob, but you had to wait for it to stop shaking before opening it.

Outside your room, it was just as dark, the only light source coming from way down the hallway somewhere in the living room. But that wasn’t reliable, considering it danced back and forth between on and off. 

You took a careful step out, met with nothing but silence. It wasn’t surprising that no one else had woken up. You were by far the lightest sleeper, rivaled only by Yelena. It was a skill learned during your adolescence. Even the slightest disruptions could deprive you of precious hours of rest. It was a blessing and a curse.

Slowly, with any sign of sleep now erased from your body, you crept down the hall towards the living room. There were a thousand things you could find there, knowing who lived here and the twisted people they have history with. 

Your mind ran through the scenarios, jumping straight to the worst. But once you stepped out into the open space, you found none of it to be true. Everything looked fine, apart from the flickering lamp and occasional vibrating walls.

An exhale was realesed from your lungs, although it was premature to celebrate. What was going on then? This had to be more than just an electrical problem. 

Before you could even finish the thought, there were footsteps behind you. Off of pure instinct alone, you whipped around, blanket falling to the floor as you reached for your waist. The usual concealed weapon was not there.

“Woah,” Yelena let out subconsciously, lifting her hands in surrender. You sighed, dropping your very unarmed hands to your sides. It wasn’t like you to be caught so unprepared. Under different circumstances, you were sure she would lecture you about it.

“Sorry, Lena.” That was all you said. No further explanation was needed, not with her. She understood the little things you did. The way you functioned. She knew because she functioned the same way.

“No, I’m sorry,” She approached you, retrieving your blanket from the floor and repositioning it around your body. “I should have known better than to sneak up on you.”

You gave her a half-hearted breath of a laugh, distracted again by the sudden swaying of the lights hung over the kitchen. Both of your heads snapped in that direction, running on the same instincts. “You don’t happen to know anything about this, do you?” She just frowned in response.

“No, I was hoping you did,” Her eyes travelled across the room, scanning for anything out of place like you did moments before her arrival. “Anyone else awake?”

“Not so far. We sleep the lightest.” With each flicker of the lights, your grip tightened around the balled-up fabric in your hands. 

“Let’s try and keep it that way for now.” She suggested, her hands sliding up to cross over her chest. The whole room seemed to shake, much worse this time. It caught you off guard, and you reached a hand out to stabilize yourself on whatever furniture was closest to you.

Your eyes widened at the quake. The brief thought that you were currently several stories in the air crossed your mind, but you shook it away. Panic wouldn’t save anyone. “That might not be possible.” You said simply, regaining your composure. After the rumbling ceased, you were able to release a breath. “Something’s wrong.” Yelena nodded slowly, mind drifting for a solution, same as yours.

“I’m going downstairs. Maybe I can figure out what's going on.” She announced, already stepping away from you.

“Want me to go with you? I mean, we don’t know what’s down there.” You already knew her answer when you asked. It would be smarter to have someone here to avoid widespread panic from the others if they woke up and found two of you missing.

“I’ll be just fine.” Without stopping or even turning back towards you, she lifted her shirt a little and revealed a gun concealed there. It was just like Yelena to be more prepared than you. “Tell me if anything happens.” Just like that, she was heading down in the elevator and you were left in the silent room again, everything around you still inconsistently malfunctioning.

With nothing else to do but wait, you sank onto the couch, mind racing and body tensing with each passing minute. You thought of everyone in their beds, blissfully unaware of the steadily growing situation. If it got much worse, you’d be waking them up soon anyway.

What you didn’t know is that this had nothing to do with the building’s integrity. Down the hall and behind a closed door, the source of all this lay in his bed, tossing and turning in a restless sleep. 

Bob was stuck in his mind, locked in some terrible nightmare. It wasn’t like he didn’t have nightmares before, he did. In fact, it was a lot more often than he cared to admit. 

They were recurring, almost every night now. How he managed to keep them so well hidden was a mystery, but he held onto it as long as he could get away with. The last thing he wanted was to spread his terror to anyone else living with him. Especially you.

But this one was different.

He was pulled through shadows and engulfed head to toe in this awful darkness. It was the same stuff he had spread over the entire city of New York many weeks ago. Since then, he managed to trap it inside his head, force it to torture him, and only him. It was getting heavy to bear, but he refused to let it touch anyone else again.

So each night, he faced it. He let it take him on several trips through his mind, revisiting a handful of the worst moments in his life every time he was there.

Each new part of his mind resurfaced excruciating memories, all the bad ones and only the bad ones. But enduring it promised your safety and the rest of the team’s. So instead of running, he greeted it. Every single night.

Normally, these memories were cloudy, all shrouded by a layer of shadow. It blocked his view just enough that he could look away from it. Sometimes he could even escape them for a time, hiding in a little room far away from the terrible things that always lay just outside.

But tonight wasn’t like any nightmare he had before. It felt like he wasn’t dreaming at all, but walking somewhere inside his mind, completely conscious. He was ripped from his little safe space and drug through memory after memory.

Bob stood on a sidewalk, still wearing the clothes he slept in. The breeze, the sound of cars hurrying by, it all felt so real. It would be easy to convince him it was, if it wasn’t for the sound of a door flying open and slamming into the wall. It was the same slam he heard every time he was here. Don’t look. Don’t give in. He told himself. No matter how much he resisted, the void demanded his attention.

He spun around to watch himself stumble out of a building, completely incoherent to the rest of the world. It didn’t matter how many times he saw it, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret in his chest. This Bob in front of him, the one who took several misplaced steps out onto the sidewalk, did this to himself. He did this to himself.

Bob’s eyes followed the figure, recalling everything he was feeling then. The entire world was spinning, which was clear now as he seemed to lean slightly to one side. A muffled sound came from the building, making the figure’s head snap to the side. That gave him a clear look at his face, his eyes.

His pupils were blown so wide, there was hardly any blue left. He looked wild, barely human anymore. Bob couldn’t help but mimic the way he gripped at his chest, remembering the pain that was there.

He was quiet at first, just breathing raggedly and mumbling sharply to himself. But then came the yelling; screaming from inside the door. This Bob started screaming too. It was a terrible, agonizing sound, just as animalistic as he looked. Something across the street joined in, and soon it was coming from everywhere. It all grew louder and distorted until eventually Bob was screaming too.

He clamped his hands over his ears, willing the awful noises away. But it was a pathetic defense against it. It all continued to grow as he watched himself half-step, half-fall into the road. Only when the deafening car horn and dreaded crash were mixed in did everything go quiet. 

Bob’s trembling hands fell from his ears as darkness swallowed him again.

He was dropped in the middle of a kitchen. It wasn’t just any kitchen, it was his. A version of Bob, half his size, sat at the table. He looked so small there. Each time he came back here, he seemed to look younger. Now he was hovering around nine to ten.

It was deceivingly calm.

Bob’s eyes moved slowly between the three figures. Little Bob and his mother sat at the table, while his dad leaned over the counter, occupied with something he couldn’t quite make out from where he stood.

His older memories still haunted him, and likely always would. But everything in them started to look weird, fuzzy in places; the corner of the table, the light fixture hanging above their heads, it was hard to see clearly at times. He blamed it on how long it had been. The exact details were starting to get cloudy.

There were words, too. But they were difficult to hear, like everything was underwater. There was a time— not long ago— when he could recall each syllable spoken here. But in the last few weeks, especially, they had started to die away. It was a good thing. At least, that’s what Bob told himself.

The muffled noise came from his mother and then stopped abruptly. She had said the wrong thing. Every muscle in his body tensed, anticipating what he’d so often seen come next.

His father whipped around in a manner that suggested he wasn’t all there. In his hands was a dark bottle, partially empty. He gripped the glass so tightly, Bob thought it might shatter under the pressure. But it hadn’t before, and it wouldn’t this time.

The words that followed fell out of his mouth slowly and slurred. He couldn’t help but wonder if he remembered it worse than it actually was. It was hard to tell now that everything was fading.

The figure of his father was blurry. Well, all except for his face. That was something he would never forget. He moved towards the table in harsh, unsteady steps. Every hair on the back of Bob’s neck raised, but there was nothing he could do but stand there and watch.

There was yelling now, but the words were drowned in water. He didn’t need them, really. He knew what they were saying just fine after hearing it so many times.

An icy, sharp fear crawled up his spine and gripped his chest. You’d think the feeling wouldn’t be so strong after the several hundredth time watching this same moment, but each time it sank its teeth into his heart and threatened to stop it.

Bob wanted to move— lunge forward to his mother’s defense. In the real world, he could. He did. But here, that wasn’t an option. He couldn’t protect her then, and he couldn’t protect her now. It was agonizing how helpless he felt, limbs frozen in place by some force that wasn’t his own will. He always struggled against it, but always came up unsuccessful.

She looked so small in that chair, hunched over defensively, using any words she could to settle the room. But they all knew it was too late.

Then came that earth-shattering blow. At the time, it was worse than any he’d ever seen before. Bob squeezed his eyes shut, but it didn’t matter. The rules of the real world didn’t apply here. And that meant closing your eyes didn’t mean you couldn’t see.

The kid at the table jumped backward instinctively, eyes wide in shock. Even then, it took maybe a fraction of a second for him to return forward to her, running to her protection.

Bob tried to yell— scream at him to stop, but it wasn’t any use. No sound came out of his mouth. Even if he could reach the kid, he wouldn’t stand and watch. He never did.

Then there was the pain. He could feel everything on his fragile skin just as he did when he was the child standing there. It felt so real, he was startled when there weren’t any marks on his body. On his body. This young version of him was not dreaming like he was.

The sight was sickening. It made him shake violently, the contents of his stomach threatening to spill. Not that he could vomit, even if he wanted to— here in his mind he could do nothing. He was stuck there, held by the force he’d never seen with his eyes. So instead, he did the next best thing and cried.

The screaming started, same as in the street. It was loud and high-pitched, clearly from a child. More joined in from unexplainable places, distorting in a nightmarish way. He pressed his hands over his ears and wept, crumpling to the floor as the voices spun around his head.

“Stop! Please!” He begged through tears. The two little words were nothing more than a strangled cry.

Suddenly, everything went silent. The shadows had shown him mercy. His hands hit cold tile floor, and he knew where he was. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know. 

Bob allowed himself a moment before moving on. He wept. He wept until he couldn’t anymore. Even when the tears stopped, he was hesitant to move. But his void wasn’t patient.

His eyes opened by something out of his control, and he was face to face with a black, shadowy figure. His shadowy figure. It was always here in the lab. This was its birthplace. And now that it was confined to his mind, this is where it chose to stay. Behind it, Bob got a little glimpse of the nightmare it guarded.

It wasn’t a memory exactly, just a frozen picture in time. Bob saw himself on the operating table, strapped down by many restraints. Tubes and wires and all manner of medical things— both identifiable and bizarre things he’d never seen— stuck out of him. Beyond those, looking at his face, he almost seemed peaceful. It was a drug-induced sleep, but it was also dreamless, nightmare-less. It was like the calm before the storm.

He knew why the void preferred this place. This was the exact moment he was created.

Bob turned away, hid it from his view by placing the figure between him and it. Finally, he acknowledged it. “I-I won’t let you d-do this to me anymore.” He whimpered. The threat wasn’t very convincing when he was kneeling on the floor, holding himself tightly to keep from falling apart.

There was a long moment of silence, just the darkness staring down at him. And then he spoke in a voice that he had no right to use. “You could save them, but you can’t save yourself.”

And then he was gone, leaving Bob to absorb the words. You can’t save yourself. How helpless he felt here, curled on the hard floor, wet with his own tears. He really couldn’t save himself. Not in the waking world, and not here.

Everything he felt here, he felt out there. His real body was overheated, soaked in sweat, and damp from so many tears. When he woke, it felt like he’d just been pulled into another memory. There was panic. Hands flew out to grip the bedsheets. But the feeling of the fabric against his skin was real, not the blurry, dreamlike version. He quickly realized he was back in his own bed, and he wept again, allowing himself to fall apart in the privacy of his room.

The tower finally went still. A few minutes before the end, it had begun to rumble, same as an earthquake would. You considered that as a possibility, but ruled it out as it progressed. Steel frames trembled, worse and worse as the seconds passed. 

You backed into a wall, searching for something to brace yourself on. Everything swayed, back and forth and back and forth. It made you dizzy and tricked you into believing the very floor would give way if you didn’t find something to hold onto. Every light in the building began to flicker over and over and over again. Even when you closed your eyes, you saw the flashes stabbing through your lids.

The chaos sent you into a silent panic, but there was nothing to be done but sit there and brace yourself for whatever would come of this. Your mind went to Yelena, imagining her in a similar position several stories below you.

It continued on, everything shaking or sliding or flashing. And then suddenly, it hit the climax. A huge, thundering crack filled the building. You gasped in surprise, clamping a hand over your mouth.

Everything made of glass shattered: windows, light bulbs, cups, plates. Anything that could break, did. It exposed the space to the night outside the windows— what was left of them. You could just hear the sounds of the city, far below.

And then it all quieted. The wave of violence passed as quickly as it started and left you in complete darkness— even your flashlight was lost or broken in the mix. Eyes wide, you waited there, using the wall against your back as your only defense.

Minutes later, just as you started to hear your heart beating in your ears, a dim light appeared. You could barely see it from there, since your eyes were so adjusted to the dark.

Suddenly, that light was beside you.

The gasp you let out was much louder than it meant to be, and instantly, there were two hands clamped around your arms, one cold and hard against your skin.

“Hey, hey, easy.” The voice was soothing, and after the initial shock, you relaxed quickly.

“Bucky,” You acknowledged, trying to catch your breath and restart your heart. Upon further examination, you found he held a small, thick glow stick— one of the many emergency tools you all had stored in your rooms. How he found it in the dark, you didn’t know.

“What happened?” He questioned, still holding onto your shoulders. “Did you see anything?” You opened your mouth to reply— not that he would have seen it— but you were interrupted.

“What the hell?” John. His footsteps sounded close enough that you could assume he was in the room. This was followed quickly by Ava and then Alexei, who both announced their arrival in their own ways.

“Does anyone know what’s going on?” You questioned, brave enough to move a few feet with your hand on the wall. 

“No.” Ava’s voice. She sounded just as confused as the rest of you. “I just woke up and watched my damn windows break.”

“Earthquake?” Bucky suggested. You knew he didn’t really consider that a possibility, but there was a significant lack of other explanations.

“An earthquake isn’t going to destroy everything in the tower.” John pointed out. It was an obvious but good point. Now that your eyes had adjusted, you could just barely make out jagged shapes where the wall of windows should have been across the space. There was even a cool breeze that made its way in, making you wish you hadn’t left your blanket on the couch.

There was silence as everyone took in the situation. Then a heavy accent came from your left. “Where’s Yelena?” Alexei questioned, and heads began to turn as they realized she wasn’t there.

A few more steps along the wall, in the direction you remembered the elevator to be. “She went downstairs a while ago to see what’s going on.” You explained, a hand stayed firmly against the wall as you approached it, glass crunching under your feet in spots. Somehow, you found the button, and even though it was clear it wouldn’t work, you pressed it anyway. Nothing. “Clearly, she wasn’t able to use the elevator to come back up.”

As if just saying her name had summoned her, she came out of a door all the way across the room. The staircase, really only used if there was an emergency. But you guessed this would qualify as one.

In her hand was a battery-operated lantern. Who knows where she found it down there? The sudden light made you squint, but it was a welcome change from stumbling blindly in the dark. 

Bucky was closer than you were and beat you to your question. “Did you find anything?” He asked. Your shoulders dropped a little when she shook her head.

“No, nothing,” She sounded out of breath from the climb, setting the lamp down on the table beside her and resting her hand there. Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing. “But it’s a mess down there, the whole tower’s shut down.”

Everyone just stood there, not really sure what to do. Bucky was the one to step up after a minute of this. “We need to split up,” He started. The lamp Yelena provided cast white light on each of your faces. “Something’s clearly wrong, and we can’t just sit here, cornered with no information.”

“Wait-” John looked up at us, turning to you first. “Where’s Bob?”

Bob. It all hit you at once, so hard that it felt stupid you didn’t put the pieces together sooner. You’d seen him interrupt the tower’s function before; just a flicker of a lamp here or the sliding of books off a shelf there. It was always unintentional. But you never considered he could cause something this big. A sharp pang of guilt swelled in your chest. How was he not the first person you thought of?

You clearly showed the realization on your face, because there were several confused expressions. Ignoring them, you crossed the room toward the still very dark hallway that led to the bedrooms. But you didn’t have to go very far. There he was, hunched over as he took wary steps toward you. He appeared so much smaller than his size. “Bob?”

He froze at the sound of your voice, glancing upward. You could just make out his eyes in what little light made it around the corner. The sight broke your heart. They were red and glassy, filled with tears that threatened to spill over. His cheeks were damp and shone from the glow, hair wild from tossing and turning all night, and arms folded over his torso protectively. He looked worse than you’d ever seen him as he stood there, clutching the fabric of his shirt over his chest.

“Bob…” You repeated as gently as you could. This broke him. Anything he had managed to bottle back up was released. First, it was just a cracked whimper that escaped, but it continued to flood out of him until he sobbed, dropping to his knees. His entire body trembled, just the same as the building did.

It took longer than you meant to react. You were just caught off guard. The last time you saw him like this was weeks ago when the shadow covered half of New York. But even then, this was different. He shook and wept openly with such a deep dread that it begun to fill you as well.

There were no words that could help him here, so you did the only other thing you knew. In the silence, with nothing audible but Bob’s cries, you moved forward. Each step was light as a feather, as if you were approaching something small and wounded, not wanting to frighten it further.

Once you reached him, his body shifted, but he didn’t dare look up at you. It was difficult for him to allow you to see this pain, but it was far too late to try and hide it. A hand went out to his forehead, fingers brushing away damp strands of hair that stuck to his face. The effect this had on him was instantaneous. Soon, the violent sobs began to slow down.

Still no words. You let yourself sink down in front of him, your hand falling to the side of his lowered head. He refused to lift it, so instead, you slid one arm and then both around his shoulders, pulling him to you.

His body tensed upon contact, hesitating at first, and then he gave in. He wouldn’t be able to fight you. And even if he could, he didn’t want to.

Accepting the comfort you offered, Bob let his head fall into the curve of your neck, sharing the tear stains with your skin as well. It took some coaxing on your end, but after a moment, he was willing to trade the fabric of his shirt for the fabric of yours, freeing up space to lean into you as his arms fell loosely around your body.

Never before had he been so vulnerable with anyone but himself, but he trusted you and trusted the touch that caressed him. It was a responsibility you felt the weight of.

Tears continued to fall, but the rate had begun to decrease, just barely. Your hands moved up and down his back, as lightly as you could manage. Immediately, you felt how much he wanted to relax into it. to fight his sorrow. 

He shook beneath you, trembling in a way you had never felt him do before. Saddness clawed at your chest and burned your throat. “You’re here, Bob.” Just a whisper. It was all you dared to do. “You’re here with me. You’re safe now.”

One tear fell from the corner of your eye, carried by gravity across your skin until it mixed in with his. He had calmed to just a quiet whimpering, a sound that tore your heart right down the middle.

Bob clung to you as if you were the only thing in the world bringing him back here. The longer you thought about it, the more you realized this was likely true. “I’m here.” You added one more time. It was the first breath he took for several minutes, his body loosening from the exhale.

You and the rest of your team gave him as much time as he needed there. You didn’t turn to look, but it was safe to assume they were experiencing similar feelings to yours. It just meant something a little different to them.

After what felt like several minutes, Bob quieted enough to speak. “I’m sorry,” The words came out in such a choked sound, you couldn’t help but tighten your grip around his body. “I didn’t mean to. I-I couldn’t control it.”

“It’s okay, Bob.” You assured, voice hushed. “We’re all safe, and windows are easily fixed.” This seemed to help a little, but he still blamed himself for all the damage caused. At least it was enough to convince him to sit up and look at you. His eyes held so much sadness and so much pain, the broken pieces of your heart felt like they were just stomped on. Your brows pulled together as he tried to read your face.

It took a long time, but you convinced him to follow you to the couch, in exchange for you staying there with him. This was a deal you’d take any day. So that’s where the next half hour was spent, Bob curled up beside you and the rest of the team pacing, debating whether or not to go downstairs and assist or stay and wait it out. The latter won out when the lack of an elevator was brought back to attention.

Forever passed, but eventually the emergency lights flickered on, the majority of the glass was swept up, and it was deemed there was nothing to do but get some rest. Nobody was coming to repair the damage at three in the morning.

So slowly, each of you peeled off into your bedrooms, likely to have a restless rest of the night. You were the last to leave, Bob still clinging to you. “Come on,” You whispered, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. When you lifted yourself off the couch, it felt like all warmth had seeped from your body.

He gazed up at you with such round, tearful eyes, it was all you could do not to take him back into your arms. There was a visible shudder that went through him, his blood turning to ice at just the thought of returning to his terrible dream world and facing what lay waiting there. 

“I-I don’t want to go back there alone.” Bob tried not to sound too panicked, but it was near-impossible. It felt like his void was right beside him, perched quietly beneath the dim lights. It waited for you to disappear, to leave him defenseless there. Because it couldn’t reach him until he was vulnerable to it, and he never would be while under your shield of protection.

And you were going nowhere. While you were with him, the shadow would never lay a hand on your precious Bob. It couldn’t. So it continued to wait, to lurk in the background and just observe.

“You’re not going anywhere alone.” You assured him as you brought him to his feet. The words coaxed most of the anxiety right out of his body, and his muscles felt functioning again. 

The entire way from the couch to the hallway, your hand was locked in his, always having some sort of contact with him. In Bob’s other arm was your blanket, balled up to keep it away from the ground.

He hesitated as you reached for your door knob. He’d never slept in your room before. It seemed like a silly thing to be worried about now, but he asked anyway. “A-are you sure?” 

The question made you pause. Not because you weren’t sure, but because after everything that happened, he was still worried about your comfort. You turned back to him, your free hand moving to squeeze the side of his arm. “Bob, I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

It seemed enough to convince him, so you slid the door open. Inside, the room was dimly lit by the backup lights. Under its glow, you could see the damage was unexplainably minimal. Other than a small crack in the window, everything remained untouched. It didn’t make sense, considering the immense damage to every other room in the building.

You walked through the room, confirming that nothing was out of place. “How… How is nothing broken?” The question was more for yourself, but Bob had an answer.

“I-I can’t really explain it,” He started, holding your blanket a little tighter. “Nothing in here will ever be touched because you’re here. It’s the only t-thing I can control. I can keep it away from you.”

You stood for a minute and let the words sink in. Even subconsciously, he had found a way to protect you from something he couldn’t even protect himself from.

Something inside you buckled upon hearing this, and your eyes slowly filled with tears. It made sense, now that it was put into words. Even when you were swallowed by the shadow many weeks ago, there was something there, separating you from your most awful memories. Only now did you realize it was Bob the entire time.

“Bob,” You couldn’t manage much more than his name. How were you supposed to respond to something like that? It was conflicting. You should be touched by this, but touched really wasn’t a strong enough word. And the consideration that he held your well-being far above his own when he was so tormented was something difficult to swallow.

He didn’t really have anything to say either, so he just opened his arms, inviting you to him. You walked straight into them and buried your face in his chest. He was warm and comforting, the beat of his heart filling your ears. The moment you were there, he had his arms around you, folding you into the little space up against his body. A little guilt nudged you when your roles switched and he was the one comforting you, but he didn’t seem to mind. His hand went to your hair, smoothing it down in soft, gentle strokes.

“You mean a lot to me.” He spoke suddenly, in a voice so sure, it was surprising. You freed your head enough to look up at him. His eyes were strong and steady, different than you’d ever seen them before. You didn’t know the full extent of it, but just being with you was giving him everything he needed.

Once again, you were left wordless. There was nothing you could say that wouldn’t take away from the weight of his words, so you used your actions to speak.

Your head buried back into his chest, soaking up the warmth of his body. And then suddenly, a pair of lips pressed into the top of your head. That was something he’d never done before. The touch was so delicate it made you melt further into him, which you guessed was the desired reaction by the tightening of his arms.

After a long time there, only when your lack of sleep caught up to you, did you dare to move.

“You need rest.” Just a whisper from you as you took his hand again and led him to your bed. You felt his hesitation and reassured him. You would reassure him a hundred times if that’s what he needed.

Finally, he seemed to accept this and crawled into bed with you. Once he received one more ok, he tucked himself in close, enclosing you in his arms and, in turn, his protection. He held you like this as if there was some threat nearby he needed to keep you from.

This was the first time you felt him relax that night, all muscles melting down into the bed. “Thank you,” He told you as you ran your fingers comfortingly across his back; a thing you learned was his favorite, even if he wouldn't tell you.

“I’ll always be here, Bob.” You told him, feeling his breathing begin to slow. “Always.” He burrowed closer to you at your words. It gave him the bravery he needed to go back and face the world inside his head.

Warm, buried in blankets, and allowed the whole night to be this close with you. It’s more than he could have asked for. It seemed too good to be true, but the steady beat of your heart against his ear reminded him it was. 

Eventually, he felt himself give in to sleep. But before he was completely gone, he caught the whisper of your words, likely uttered after you thought he couldn’t hear. “You mean everything to me.”

With that, he was sent off into sleep. And for the first time in as long as he could remember, he had dreams. Real dreams. Dreams of you and all the joy, longing, and comfort you bring him.

It turns out the void was right. He couldn’t save himself. But now he realized he was never meant to. He had Yelena and Bucky and the rest of the team, but most of all, he had you. It was always you. You were the one who saved him from his mind and drove the shadows away from him. Because of you, for the very first time, he felt truly safe.

The nightmares began fade away. There would be more, of course. There always were. But now they couldn’t reach him so easily.

And you were always going to be there to keep it that way.

✵ Find my masterlist here

[writingonwings]

Haircut - B.R.

✵ Bob Reynolds x fem!reader

✵ Summary: You offered to keep Bob company during a team outing, and he had an interesting request for you

✵ Warnings: No use of y/n, Nothing concerning really, discomfort in silence (trauma-related, but not specified), lots of fluff, idiots in love

✵ Word Count: 4.4k

The soft click of the door cut through your quiet room as it found its home in the frame. Its only competition was the faint hum of the little desk fan perched near the opposite wall. Your room— the entire tower, really— held the heavy weight of silence, which began when the rest of your team had departed for a mission early that morning.

Normally, you would have gone with, but last night you spoke up mid-briefing and volunteered to stay back with Bob. There were a few reasonable murmurs of protest, likely because your particular skill set would be missed. Each of you knew the topic would have been brought up sooner or later and that Bob wouldn't want to be left alone for very long.

He sat in a chair a little way away from the table, busying himself with the cuff of his sleeves. Upon hearing his name, his eyes flickered upward. You glanced at him for a fraction of a second with the softest expression you could. It was fleeting and likely missed by the others, but the shift and softening in his shoulders told you he had caught it.

It was true, he didn't want to be alone. While it had been a few months now since the void incident, he was still reluctant to go off anywhere by himself.

Most days, he spent tethered to you as often as he could be. You were gentle with him right from the start and always had been. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but quickly something he craved. It didn't take long for him to be drawn to you, to your soft and stable way of handling him. No matter what happened, you were always right there beside him.

While at first, for you, it was simply a way of showing kindness to him, it very quickly blossomed into something more than that. You found yourself looking for him in a room just as quickly as he'd look for you.

Your connection didn't go unnoticed by the other five people living in this part of the tower. You started to raise suspicions. But every time you were confronted, you chalked it up to Bob just needing someone to be there for him, and you were that someone. It threw them off you for a while, but you weren't surprised when there were a few questioning glances among the protests against your staying behind.

"Are you sure?" Bucky asked, not bothering to press further than that.

"Yeah, why not?" You shrugged as casually as possible, leaning down onto the arm of your chair to sell your point. "I could use a little quiet anyway."

This was far from the truth. Too much quiet drove you crazy. The trait was something you were sure followed you from your past, but you never sat down long enough to pinpoint exactly where. Regardless, you hated it.

Only two people at the table knew this: Bucky, who had known you a lot longer than anyone else here, and Bob, who had seen it firsthand on several occasions now.

Your words caught his attention again, his brows tugging together just barely in silent questioning. Bucky took on a similar expression, but it went unnoticed by everyone else. He didn't say a word.

You were grateful for him. His constant willingness to protect you in whatever way the situation called for. It stemmed back years ago, before you knew anyone else around this table. He nodded and agreed with your point that someone needed to keep Bob company, and you were the most obvious candidate.

After that, there were no more questions. And mere hours later, at the very first hours of the day, they were off. The last thing you heard was the ding of the elevator before silence laid its weight on the entire room.

Giving up on more sleep, you busied yourself in whatever way you could. Soon enough, Bob joined you, his long hair disheveled from what looked like a difficult night's sleep. he seemed just as restless as you.

Upon seeing you on the couch, curled up with a book, he tried to brush back his hair to make it a little more presentable. It was clearly unsuccessful, which he realized with a sigh.

His hair had grown quite a bit in such a short amount of time. You blamed it on whatever serum he had been given, but never pressed to find out. No matter the source, it was clear it started to bother him.

You could cut it for him; you did Yelena's every time she wanted another trim. But you were hesitant to offer. You had very little experience with haircuts beyond hers, if you don't count trimming Bucky's one time years ago, which you don't. That particular experience didn't inspire much confidence, since it ended in frustration and a new baseball cap that didn't leave his head for weeks.

It was safe to say he'd never let you near his hair again. In your defense, you've improved significantly since then. Yelena's hair didn't turn out half bad when she appeared at your door six months ago and convinced you to cut half of it off.

All in all, you could probably manage Bob's. But you were going to let him ask you, just in case it didn't turn out well.

So far, nothing.

"Hey," Bob greeted quietly, as if worried about breaking the silence. You lifted your gaze from the book, which was starting to lose your attention anyway, and found his piercing blue eyes. He stood a few feet from you, fumbling with the cuff of his sweatshirt sleeve, which was long enough to be pulled up over his wrists.

"Hi," You smiled at him, speaking in that gentle tone you always used with him. His posture shifted dramatically at just the one word, his entire body relaxing. His lips parted just barely and then closed again, biting back a question he was too cautious to ask.

Your head tilted, but you understood. There was an unspoken language between the two of you. One that you've now become fluent in. You shifted on the couch and patted the spot next to you, opening your arms to him

He quickly took your offer, taking a few large steps to close the space and sinking onto the couch. His arms found your waist, wrapping around as gently as he dared.

You wouldn't easily admit it, but you had a hard time keeping hold of your book after the sudden contact. The warmth radiating off him and the clean smell of soap and whatever fabric softener he used on his sweatshirt took all your attention. You did a fantastic job of concealing this as he curled up next to you, ready to read whatever you were over your shoulder.

You often sat together like this. It distracted both you from the quiet hours of the morning and late night, and him from the fast-moving chatter in his head. The first time was a month or so ago when he had a particularly bad nightmare, and you just so happened to be awake for the aftermath of it. You let him spend the rest of the night with you, and ever since then, he craved your closeness. You never said anything to him, but you did too.

So from then on, you stole little touches from each other, whether it be the brushing of his hand against yours or the long time spent cuddled up next to him. The comfort was something you both were starved for.

Over time, he had gotten much braver. While at first he avoided it, yearning from a distance unless you approached him first, eventually he began to initiate contact himself. He still tended to tread lightly when he wasn't sure, but you were always quick to assure him he was more than welcome with you.

You spent a long time there, only disrupted by hunger and the remembrance of breakfast. So you stood reluctantly, missing his warmth once it was gone, and continued onto your next task.

Now, hours later, you had decided to retreat to your room and trade the ongoing silence for the buzz of your spinning fan, even for just a few minutes. It only took the time for you to get from your door to your bed for there to be a quiet tap on your door. 

You didn’t really expect Bob to leave you alone for long. He had disappeared maybe fifteen minutes ago— you guessed it was to shower— And the absence of him left you restless in the living room.

“It’s open,” You called, and watched your door slide away from its frame, revealing Bob, hair damp and dripping onto his simple cotton t-shirt. A little guilt tugged his lips into a frown, giving away that he felt bad for leaving you by yourself when he knew you were uncomfortable with the quiet.

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to disappear. I just…” He started, trailing off like his mind was moving too fast for his mouth to keep up with. He cleared his throat, coming to and letting himself cross the threshold of your bedroom.

Before he continued, you caught his words. “You don’t have to worry about me, Bob, I’ve had plenty of quiet days before.” He continued forward until he reached you, and you lifted a hand to caress his cheek. He seemed startled by your touch, but relaxed into it quickly.

You could tell he wasn’t convinced, but your hand against his skin eliminated any argument before it could be spoken. Instead, his eyes found yours and stayed there, conveying all he wanted to say through his stare.

Bob suddenly broke out of his daze as he remembered what else he’d come in for. “I- uh- I have a strange question.” You raised an eyebrow, beckoning him to continue. “Well it’s not really a question it’s more of a request—”

You cut him off before he got too distracted. “What is it?” It was your gentle voice alone that brought him back from his chatter.

“Well… It’s my hair. I-I saw you give Yelena a trim a few weeks ago, and mine’s just getting so long. I was wondering if maybe you’d—” He spoke so quickly, you barely had time to let the words sink in. Your other hand went up to cup his face as well, slowing him down a little. He took a breath before continuing. “You’d be willing to give me a haircut?”

A smile pulled at the corners of your lips. “Of course I would, Bob.” Your words were steady, a foundation he could cling to that brought confidence to him even when he had none. He sighed at your response. “But I do have to warn you. Last time I cut a guy’s hair, it was Bucky’s and… let’s just say he’ll never let me do it again.” 

Your words brought out a breathy laugh from Bob. “I think anything is going to be better than this.” He gestured to his hair. You had seen so much worse, but you did understand where he was coming from. Especially now that it was wet, it was past his shoulders. Obnoxiously long for someone who wasn’t used to it.

“Well, it does need a trim,” You admitted with a teasing smile. This washed away any last bit of nerves he walked in with. 

“Maybe a little more than that,” Bob replied, moving a hand up towards your hair and letting a piece of it twirl around his finger. “I don’t know how you manage having yours so long.”

“Well, for one, I have a solid haircut.” Another chuckle from Bob, and you let your hands fall away from him. 

You turned on your heel and crossed the room to your bathroom, which was rather spacious for being tucked between bedrooms on one of the top floors of the building. Bob followed suit, close enough to you that he could be your shadow. You didn’t mind it in the slightest.

Your feet hit the tile floor when you came to a stop, putting a gentle hand out to keep Bob from bumping into the back of you. He shuffled as he came in contact with you, whispering an apology. “Sorry,” He mumbled.

“No need to apologize.” You assured quickly. Satisfied with your answer, he leaned onto your marble countertop, watching you as you dug through your things for the right tools.

His gaze was soft, as if he were admiring you in a way he wouldn’t dare say aloud. The way his eyes looked reminded you of a deer. Round and doe-like. Like he was something quiet and innocent, that could persuade anyone who came across his path to care deeply for him.

You left this thought hanging, eyes drifting back down into the organized chaos under your sink. You pulled out a few things: A pair of scissors, a comb, a spray bottle, and a couple of towels. 

“Alright,” You started, standing and turning to him. A hand went to either side of his shoulders as you guided him toward the mirror, positioning him to face it. “What are you thinking? How short do you want to go?” Your fingers went to his hair, examining it. But you couldn’t say you didn’t enjoy it a little when he sighed into your touch. It was barely audible. Just a slow exhale from the sensation of your closeness.

Your hand falling to his neck brought him back to his senses. “Oh- uh- I don’t know… I never really thought about it.” He told you, letting his gaze drop. You could tell he was thinking, trying to recover some memory that was stolen from him. “I can’t really remember how I used to like it.” 

His voice, filled with quiet sadness, tugged your brows together. You released a soft breath, changing your expression to something a little more lighthearted. “Well, that just means you can try anything you want.” You said, attempting to cheer him up. It did work somewhat, his shoulders shifting just enough for you to notice. 

“I-” He started, but didn’t really know what to ask and let the words die on his tongue. You gave him the gentlest smile you could muster, hand shifting to his shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

“Or…” You leaned an elbow against the counter, increasing the already dramatic height difference. “I could choose something for you.” Bob practically jumped at the suggestion, giving you a swift nod.

“Yes please,” He said, trusting you wholeheartedly. It felt like a huge responsibility, even with something as simple as this. Trust wasn’t something you took lightly, and he was willing to give you all of his.

You stood up and gestured to the toilet, the only place available for seating in the bathroom. “Alright, sit.” He, of course, immediately did.

Your hands went right back into his hair, calculating. Over the years, you mastered having a steady demeanor. One that was solid and unchanging. This usually came off as cold and closed off to anyone who didn’t know you, and a fair few who did. But not Bob. To Bob, it was like an anchor. Something he could hang onto in his time of need. It was warm and inviting and tested and proven against any challenge he had brought so far. You hoped he still felt this way while you pointlessly massaged through his brown locks, stalling while you made yourself a plan.

He didn’t mind the delay, even letting himself sink into his seat a little more until you finally got to work. Though you secretly questioned yourself, you didn’t show it in the slightest. Nimble fingers took up the tools and began to snip away at his still-damp hair.

You stood directly in front of him, perched slightly between his knees, while you worked on the sections around his face. In your peripheral vision, you noticed the way he held his hands, as if he didn’t know where to put them. This brought a smirk to your lips, watching him silently debate with himself about a decision he wasn’t brave enough to make.

A hand slid down to the side of his face briefly, giving the skin of his cheek a delicate brush from your thumb. It was a small but meaningful movement, immediately putting him at ease again. 

As if it had given him the courage he needed, he raised a hand to your waist, hesitating when he felt the subtle shift in your body. It was nothing more than surprise at the sudden touch in a place that rarely received it. Once he realized this, he settled his palm there, long fingers curling around toward your back.

You continued on after that, just like that. Only when the quiet began to ring in your ears did anything change. To fill the silence, you let out the softest hum. It wasn’t any song in particular, just a sweet melody to replace the empty lack of noise.

Bob gazed at you, having nothing else he’d rather look at. But the way he did suggested he would still be even if there was something else to compete for his focus. His stare was the same as earlier, round and gentle like a doe. No, not a doe. Something younger, softer, and fairer. He was like a fawn, still with long, wobbly legs and white spots of fur. So full of love and trust.

You faltered, unable to avoid his eyes. Some part of you was already aware this version of him was reserved for you and you alone, but it only just hit you now, slamming into you suddenly enough that it seemed to knock the wind right out of your chest.

You only let yourself lose focus for a few moments, drinking in the image of him like it was something you needed to live. After a deep breath, you regained yourself and continued, humming again as you worked through his hair. Several inches had come off already.

“Why don’t you like the quiet?” Bob asked you in a soft but rather steady voice. At first, it didn’t sound like it belonged to him.

You let a hand fall again, this time to the side of his neck. “I’m not sure.” And you weren’t. It was always something you disliked. At least, as far back as you dared remember. “It makes me restless, like I have to find something to do to fill it. But very few things have worked so far.”

He let out a gentle “Hm” in acknowledgment, absent-mindedly brushing his thumb across your side. Or maybe it was intentional, reminding you that he was still there. “Maybe you just haven’t found the right things yet.” His round eyes never strayed from their target, the stare so intense, it demanded your attention.

There was a sudden, heavy shift in the air. Tension found its way between you, laying its hand. But it wasn’t the bad kind. No. This was different.

“Maybe I haven’t,” The words were the only thing you could think of to break through, though it did very little. Bob’s eyes flickered across your face, drifting from your eyes to your nose, the arch of your brow, the curve of your neck, your lips. He didn’t make a move on it, just admired you, waiting, not yet brave enough to take the lead.

So you did, leaning in just enough to feel his breath touch your skin and nose brush against yours. He tensed at first, so you paused and waited there for any sign he was ok with this. What you didn’t know was that every second you were there, he spent scraping up any bit of courage he had.

Your other hand, which still held the scissors, remained in his hair; free fingers ran slowly through the half-cut locks. The sensation of this seemed to bring him to his senses, and, to your surprise, it was Bob who closed the space between you.

Your lips met so suddenly, it seemed to shock you. But you quickly melted into him, scissors clattering to the floor in abandonment as your hand tangled further into his hair. 

Even in a moment like this, he was nothing but gentle. His free hand moved so lightly up your back, you could barely feel it. It made a shiver follow up your spine. This didn’t go unnoticed, but if anything, it made him braver. Bob used this little burst of confidence to tilt his head, inviting you in further to him, which you obliged immediately.

The kiss was slow, patient, and intimate. It was the kind of kiss that would change the way you looked at each other forever. In this case, you had a feeling that it would be for the better. 

But you didn’t want to ruin it by pushing it too far. So slowly, you pulled yourself away from him, knowing he wouldn’t be the one to do it himself. There was silence at first, just the two of you locked in place, and then came your smiles. The first to laugh was you; just a light, breathy sound that came from someone whose chest felt filled with air and light as a feather. Bob was quick to follow.

You could stay there for hours without needing to move, just staring at his pretty face. How you didn’t realize it before, you didn’t know. His perfect nose, the strong line of his jaw, the way his eyelashes sat straight from how long they were, he was gorgeous.

“You’re beautiful.” The words escaped at nothing more than a whisper, but that was all they needed to be heard. Color rushed to his nose, spreading out across his cheeks and towards the tip of his ears. This didn’t pass by you, of course. You curled a hand under his chin and pulled his face back to you, pressing the lightest kiss to the bridge of his nose. It only made the color more vibrant.

“I-I should be the one saying that to you.” Bob did his best not to seem flustered, hating how easily you made him that way. But he was never very skilled at hiding things from you. That breathy laugh left you again as you let the words hang in the air a little longer before disrupting them.

After they had settled, you spoke again, tone lightening. “Y’know, at this rate, you’re never getting your hair cut.” It brought him a little closer to his senses, his hand sliding back down to your waist.

“Sorry,” He started, doing his best to mimic your tone. “I’ve been easier to distract lately.”

You understood his meaning, and then it was your turn to blush. Although you were far better at hiding it. To combat the sudden giddy smile, you tried to make a move for your forgotten scissors. Bob, whose hands still lay against your sides, gave you a gentle squeeze. It was a halfhearted effort to keep you in place, knowing he would lose.

An eyebrow raised. “If you let me finish your hair, we can do this somewhere more comfortable than my toilet.” Your words were meant to be playful, but the suggestion that you’d be close to him like this again was enough to bring back the color he had worked so hard to remove from his face.

“R-right,” He stuttered as the tips of your fingers brushed across the rosy hue of his skin.

Your expression changed into something much softer, settling him again. Once he had relaxed completely, you went back to work, using slow, deliberate movements. It coaxed him to lean in, closer and closer each time.

His hair had dried quickly and had to be rinsed again. After that, it was smooth sailing. Bob tapped his fingers against his leg, trying not to make it too obvious how much he enjoyed the feeling of your fingers working through his locks. What he didn’t know is that every once in a while, you pretended to reposition his hair, using it as an excuse to run your fingers through it.

After you had checked and double-checked, you finally deemed it finished, stepping back to stare at it for a while. You could start to tell that the prolonged silence was making him nervous.

“Alright,” You said after a while. “Go ahead and look.”

You moved out of his way, leaning back against the wall behind you. Slowly, he held his breath and stood, navigating the ring of loose hair surrounding where he sat as he stepped toward the mirror.

You’ve never seen his eyes light up faster.

Bob’s hands went straight to his hair, examining it from every angle. It was the perfect length; not too long, not too short. If you were being honest, it was a miracle you had pulled it off so well.

“It’s perfect.” He spoke softly. The haircut was different from any he had in the past. It was refreshing, like starting a new chapter of his life.

“It’s definitely not my worst work,” You started, crossing your arms. “But I still have plenty of room f—” He cut you off by wrapping his long arms around you and burying his nose into your shoulder.

It caught you off guard, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You slid yours around his torso, letting him pull you to him. “Thank you.” His words were muffled against your clothed shoulder. You had no idea how much it meant to him.

“Anytime, Bob.” You told him, trailing your fingers gently along his lower back.

The silence that followed was different than any before it. It was easy and gentle.

It was welcoming.

A quiet sigh escaped you as your body melted into his, suddenly switching roles and tightening your embrace to keep him there. You had Bob, and Bob had you. And even though it was starting to mean something different now, it would always be that way.

And all it took was a haircut for you to realize it.

✵ Find my masterlist here

[writingonwings]

Sugar cookies

✵ Pairing: Fred Weasley/f!reader

✵ Word count: 2k

✵ Summary: You were notoriously horrible at any form of baking or cooking, but hopefully having another shot at it could improve the well-earned reputation

✵ Warnings: Established relationship, possible inaccurate cookie baking (I'm no baker), really nothing but fluff

Baking was a form of art, and you had never been that kind of artist. Every time the thought even crossed your mind, something had already gone wrong. Something was on fire, severely burnt, the wrong consistency, or just tasted awful. No matter how many times you tried, there was never any sort of improvement. No food or dessert had ever survived in your hands. So it wasn't often anymore you could be found in the kitchen, having mostly accepted that this was simply not your strong suit. However, every so often, you found a sudden urge to try and prove you could learn, even if you already knew the likeliest outcome. Today was one of those days, that urge tempting you into giving it another try.

It was a warm and quiet morning in the burrow, Molly and Arthur being away and most of the others busying themselves in different ways. You took the opportunity to try yet again at baking something. It was safer for everyone if there were fewer present to witness it, or possibly taste it. If you could get that far this time.

You approached the situation optimistically. The plan was to choose something simple to make and an even simpler recipe to follow. Just cookies couldn't hurt, right? It seemed easy enough, as long as you were careful.

Leaning against the counter, you studied the little book. There were very few ingredients, and that only meant fewer places where mistakes could be made. You were definitely capable of this. So with a newfound confidence, you got to work gathering an array of bowls, pans, ingredients, everything you thought you may need and more. As you scattered them across the counter at random, You were caught by the only other Weasley in the household.

Fred walked in on what was turning out to be a manic episode. You could tell he knew this based on the sudden panic in his face. "What are you doing?" He questioned, fearing the day he'd find you here again. Flashbacks of previous incidents were likely spinning through his head.

"A good morning would suffice." You replied without looking up from what you were doing. Another quick check of your book and you were ready to go, carrying hope for a more positive ending this time. Fred strode over lazily, sleep clearly still clinging to his mind. He slid his arms around you to gaze over your shoulder.

The embrace briefly distracted you from your task. And to further this, he pressed a long kiss to the top of your head. "I'm sorry, love. Good morning." His voice was muffled against your hair, but the way it sounded was almost tempting enough to drop everything in your hands and give him your full attention. Unfortunately, you were far too determined for that.

"That's much better," You remarked, earning a chuckle. Against your better judgment, you wiggled out of Fred’s arms to continue on with your cookies. After a few words of complaint, He leaned an arm on the counter beside you, finding the only open spot that hadn't yet been touched by your wave of disaster. You prepared your first ingredients, movements followed by his curious gaze.

"Now, don't tell me," He started sarcastically, continuing only once you glanced up at him. This look only lasted a moment, as you were in the middle of measuring flour. "You're making something."

"Clearly," Was your simple response. You were so focused on getting everything right.

"Something simple?" Fred gestured down to the not-so-simple mess on the counter. "I'd guess it's something even you couldn't ruin? Dare I say cake? Cookies, maybe?" He watched you pour the flour into a bowl, which came back up to coat the front of you in a white puff of smoke. A snort of laughter escaped his mouth, resulting in an immediate glare from you. It was very early in the game for you to be wearing your cookies.

"That's enough from you." You pointed a finger of your now powdered hand at him. "Unless you'd like to be covered in flour as well."

His expression changed as he considered your words. "Well, I could think of worse things to—” You put an end to his statement by launching a handful of flour at him, coating the both of you in a thin layer of white. He first tried to wipe his face with the back of his hand, only to find it would smudge. You roared with laughter at this discovery.

After your fit had calmed, you picked up a spoon in an attempt to return to your work. But you had started something Fred would be more than happy to finish. "Oh, no you don't." He grabbed your arms and pulled you to him, tickling and completely disarming you. Laughter jumped back into your throat and your utensils clattered to the ground.

"Fred! No!" You struggled to say, squirming to find an escape. By the time he had stopped, you could barely breathe and practically choked on the giggles that tried to escape your lips.

Fred picked up the spoon off the ground, narrowly dodging a slap to the arm. If your cookies turned out poorly now, you could place some of the blame on him. He went to rinse it off, which gave you enough time to add most of the remaining ingredients to your bowl.

You checked back with the book to ensure it was still going well. Other than the rapidly growing mess in the kitchen and all over you, it seemed fine so far. As long as there were no other setbacks, you may actually succeed this time.

As if you spoke it into existence, Fred turned around at the sink, just as you were placing the cookies in the oven. "Slight problem," His hands were held away from himself, face twisting into concern.

Your gaze was pulled to him to see he had tried and failed to rinse the flour off his hands and arms. Instead of washing away, it clumped and stuck to his skin. The realization hit you at the same time and you stared at each other, both covered in more flour than what was in the cookies.

Water did nothing against the powder. It was mixed with whatever other ingredients escaped the bowl, turning it into a glue and making the situation far worse. You took ahold of one of Fred's arms, but it immediately made your hands sticky as well. No matter how much you scrubbed, it only further spread across the skin

"It's not coming off," Fred announced simply, as if you weren't actively trying to fix the problem.

You sighed. "I can see that, love." You pointed to a bar of soap at the edge of the sink, beckoning Fred to hand it over. He obliged and reached for it. The soap helped significantly, freeing some of the sticky paste.

It took no small amount of effort, but you eventually had clean arms and hands. Fred took the bar from you, wetting the soap in his hands and lifting it to work it into the flour on your face. You gazed up at him while he did this, letting out a little giggle as he struggled to keep his eyes from finding yours.

Fred had very little self-control when it came to you. It didn't take any convincing for him to give in and meet your stare. It was intoxicating. Whatever you had been doing previously was easily forgotten the moment the look was exchanged. He practically melted, thumb still brushing across your cheek while his mind drifted away from cleaning your messy faces.

You did try to resist– or so you told yourself– But a flicker of your eyes toward his lips and it was over. You met in a sweet kiss, the chalky taste of flour finding your tongue. It was warm and gentle and filled with the same longing you felt every time you kissed him; even back to the very first time. The act was so simple, and yet was more than enough for him to take over your entire mind and body. You were completely at the mercy of your lover.

His hands cupped your face, the mixture of soap and flour making a mess of your skin. He held you there with no intention of moving and in turn, rapidly draining any of yours. This only lasted until a distinct burning smell reached your nose.

Fred noticed before you, lips parting from yours as his eyes fell on the sight. "Y/n," He muttered and let his hands drift down to your shoulders.

"Hm?" Was your oblivious response, further proof you belonged nowhere near an oven. Realization hit you at the same time as the harsh scent.

"Is that supposed to be on fire?" You jerked your body around to follow his gaze, only to find that your cookies had gone up in flames. How? You had only taken your eyes off them for a few minutes at most. Your hands went to your pockets, but there was empty fabric where your wand should have been. So Fred's was the next best option.

He wasn't one to handle emergency situations well. While you calmly tried to locate a solution, Fred seemed to lose any instinct for survival. "Fred," You snapped a finger to get his attention. "Your wand, love."

"Right," He searched around the counter for it. A sigh escaped your lips and you put a hand on his arm to stop him, taking his wand from his pocket. With a swift flick, water sprayed from the tip of it and extinguished the flames, which had roared on during the moment of panic.

As the fire subsided, you lost any hope in salvaging your dessert. They came out of the oven pitch black, hard as a rock, and now waterlogged; definitely not edible. You set them on the counter so you both could get a good look.

After a moment or two of dead silence, Fred made a poor attempt to lighten your disappointment. "Well, this isn't the worst thing I've seen you take out of an oven." You shot him the makings of a glare, which confirmed his attempt had ended in failure.

The expression turned into a frown. "Maybe I'm just destined for burnt cookies." As the words came out, so did a giggle. You really were cursed. Every single time, without fail, something goes wrong. You were convinced you were the only one with such terrible luck when it came to baking.

"Or maybe you just need more practice." Fred suggested, giving you his smile. Somehow he had become more enthusiastic about this than you.

You leaned onto the counter, sinking down in defeat. "I think I’ve had a little too much practice." Adding another kitchen disaster to your resume didn't make you any more eager to jump back into it.

"One more couldn't hurt, darling." He pulled out another set of ingredients, this time indenting to help you rather than distract. With Fred, your chances for success were greatly increased but still slim. Even with the odds stacked against you, how could you refuse? Especially at the sight of him standing there, so ready to try again with you. So with an exaggerated sigh, you got back to work.

These cookies had made it much farther than the previous batch. Even just surviving long enough to make it out of the oven was a victory. You could admit there was an obvious improvement. But even though they looked the part— mostly— One taste and you found they were not the most appealing to consume. It was a sign of progress, but still not something anyone else would find edible.

Finally, you were able to start coming to terms with your skill; or lack thereof. Baking was such a delicate art, and you just had to accept that not everyone was meant to be that type of artist.

Find more like this here!

[writingonwings]

She calls me Freddie (Pt.4)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x F!Gryffindor!reader

Warnings: Just fluff! A little corny but it’s Christmas and that’s Fred. This is arguably one of the most important chapters of the series

Summary: Winter break had finally arrived and it would turn out to be one of your favorites

Word count: 5.1k

(Part 4 - find all other parts here)

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The days following the first task crawled by slowly. And despite what had happened that night, nothing else followed. Once again, everything seemed to go back to normal between you and Fred. At least, as much as it could. You were able to go about your days as usual, but after admitting to yourself your feelings for him, you found it more and more difficult as time passed. It would only be so long before you slipped.

On that morning, the first snow of the season fell. It reminded you how close you were to the holidays. The early classes had been replaced with a gathering of each house with their head, Gryffindor with McGonagall. You found yourself in a wide corridor, boys and girls seated on either side and the professor at the center. Most students were on a long bench, some standing behind. You were one of them, leaning casually against the stone wall. Fred, who you attempted to avoid repeated eye contact with, had a similar stance across the room.

“The Yule ball has been a tradition of the Tri-wizard tournament since its inception,” McGonagall explained, turning across the room to speak to everyone. “On Christmas Eve night, we and our guests gather in the great hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity. As representatives of the host school, I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward. And I mean this literally because the Yule Ball is first and foremost a dance.”

The moment she uttered the words, the room erupted into noise; especially from your side. Most of the girls around you, including yourself, dove into enthusiastic chatter. Just the brief idea of going with Fred brought upon you a fresh wave of excitement and you couldn’t help but glance in his direction. To your surprise, his gaze had found you first. You sent him an exaggerated wink and watched his body shake with a laugh in return, not managing to completely avoid a prolonged stare.

“Silence!” McGonagall called, bringing the talking to a quick end. “The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizard world for nearly ten centuries. I will not have you, in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling bumbling band of baboons.”

The twins caught your eyes again, seeing them whisper together with two poorly hidden smiles. The professor continued, having not heard them. “Now, to dance is to let the body breathe. Inside every girl a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst forth and take flight.”

Ron made an attempt at whispering as well, but he was far worse at it. Laughing came from his direction, taking the attention of McGonagall. “Inside every boy, a lordly lion prepared to prance. Mr. Weasley.

She strode over to the boy, standing before him. “Yes?” Ron asked with dread, sinking lower into his seat.

“Will you join me please?” She answered simply, not letting him reply before taking ahold of a bit of the fabric on his clothed shoulder. She dragged him out to the center of the room, every student behind him bursting into laughter. “Now place your right hand on my waist.”

“Where?”

“My waist.” She instructed firmly. Fred whistled a catcall to tease his brother, earning a glare instantly. The boy hesitantly did as his professor asked. “Mr. Filch, if you’d please.” Filch quickly began the music, which came out more as static while the machine started up. McGonagall pulled Ron around the room, demonstrating the waltz to everyone. Fred and George swayed as well to mock him.

“Everybody come together! Boys on your feet!” Most of the younger ones were in no hurry. Of all of them, Neville Longbottom was the first to stand, the rest following behind him and filing in to find partners.

You remained at your spot against the wall, not in a huge hurry to jump into the crowd of students. Besides, you had a feeling your partner would find you.

In mere seconds, Fred appeared and slid behind the benches to where you stood. He gazed down at you with a bright smile, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “Would I be lucky enough to dance with the Y/n L/n?” His voice sounded silky smooth in your ears, despite the edge of playfulness.

You copied his tone with a raised brow. “Hm, would you?” He let out an exaggerated scoff, still holding your hand in his.

“I would.” He twirled you in front of him, Little butterflies flitting about in your stomach and any ounce of stubbornness leaving your body. “Shall we, my love?”

“Your love?” You questioned him as he led you out from behind the seats.

“Mhm,” Fred responded as if it was a casual thing to say, not bothering to explain himself further. You took the stance McGonagall had instructed, a hand holding his and the other on his shoulder. Confidently, he set a hand on your waist, pulling you in to close the space between you. How could you only be friends when he did things like that? He was usually flirty with you and had been for years, but what he was so blissfully unaware of was how hard it had become for you to keep your composure. Although, a part of you could admit that he likely knew fully.

The both of you attempted to dance through your poor excuse for the waltz. At first, you quite literally stepped on each others’ feet. One could argue that his were the victim far more than yours, but he didn’t care to admit it to you. Regardless of who was correct, It did not go unnoticed by you that Fred was much better at this.

“Have you done this before?” You questioned, watching a smile tug at his face. You tried to pause your dance, but he continued on, not missing a beat. “You have, haven’t you?”

His lips formed a smirk, having a slightly more difficult time keeping up with the music now that you were distracted. “I have,” he said casually, gazing down at you.

“Who was the lucky girl?” You meant it to tease him, although the question twisted at you. You preferred not to try and visualize the thought.

Fred twirled you again, catching you off guard since you weren’t paying attention. “Ginny,” The reply earned a snort of laughter from you. “Now would you focus? We’re going to get good at this before the dance.”

You only laughed more at his determination. Fred shook his head, fighting back his own smile. “I’m so sorry.” You giggled, bringing your attention back to the dance.

“That’s alright, I can forgive you.” He joked with you, leading you through the dance once more. After a while you had actually started to improve. And eventually you were successful enough that even McGonagall praised you.

After you had wordlessly deemed you’d had enough practice, your dance turned into something less and less formal. Fred would twirl you and then pull you back into his arms, swaying you to the music. The rest of the room left you as you made your little space; spinning, tripping, and laughing. You didn’t think it possible, but somehow you were even more head over heels for him than before.

By the time everyone had finished and McGonagall had regathered the room, the seating arrangements were abandoned and traded for simply standing around her. You and Fred stood toward the back of the group, him using your shoulder as an armrest.

“Now one more thing, everyone.” Your professor announced. “Since the ball will be held on Christmas, you all will be given the week in advance to return home. But spend this time wisely. I expect all of you to keep up on your studies.” McGonagall had to know that very few of the students in the room would willingly spend their break studying, especially when this year we would be given two.

“You all may go!” She dismissed us, letting everyone file out of the room. “And practice your dancing!” You exited the room with Fred, who finally let go of you. George came out of the large doors with Angelina. You hadn’t even noticed they were dancing together since you were so focused on your own partner.

“How on earth are you two not together yet?” She asked with a smile. You knew she meant nothing but well by the question but it was currently a touchy subject to talk about.

“Angelina,” you replied quietly, in hopes that she would take your hint. She was oblivious to it and spoke on.

“I’m just saying,” She continued playfully. You shook your head, unable to help having a little amusement at how clueless the girl was in that moment. “When you do start dating we won’t be able to tell; you already act married—” George suddenly cut her off by gently taking her arm.

“I had a question to ask you, Angelina.” He spoke simply and led the confused girl away to prevent her from talking further. The way he said it wasn’t very convincing, but you were grateful for him regardless.

You glanced up at Fred, who returned your gaze with both a puzzled and slightly nervous expression. It wasn’t often you saw him look nervous. He stood there Frozen for a moment, trying to form the correct words. But once he had finally made up his mind and opened his mouth, he was interrupted by Hermione and Ginny’s poor timing.

“Can you believe it?” Ginny asked, taking your arm. She and Hermione both wore a wide grin. “What are we going to wear?”

“I’m sure we’ll have plenty of chances to figure that out, Gin.” Hermione responded, noticing the situation quickly. She glanced from Fred to you, taking on a little guilt in her expression.

“I’ll see you later, Y/n.” Fred told you, giving you a little smile and walking off in the direction of the common room. You sighed, every part of you wishing he’d had the chance to say what was on his mind.

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The first of two breaks approached quicker than expected and soon you found yourself on the train home to the Weasley’s. You sat by the window, admiring the land as it passed by. Though it hadn’t snowed in a while, it had been cold enough that there were still patches of white here and there; the rest had already melted away. Fred’s eyes drifted to you, his expression softening at the sight. Oh, how beautiful you looked to him there, staring out the small train window. He took your hand and squeezed it affectionately, pulling your gaze toward his. A short look was shared and little smiles were exchanged before you looked back through the glass.

The sun had already fallen by the time you arrived to the burrow. Every single one of you stood at the door: You, Fred, George, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. Before George could even knock, Molly was at the door to greet you. “There you all are!” She welcomed you cheerfully, only letting you in after each one of you had a hug. She had always treated you, Harry, and Hermione as one of her own children.

Inside became busy quickly after your group’s arrival. Percy, Bill, and Charlie had already arrived and came to greet you when you entered. “Bill!” You exclaimed as you spotted him, giving him a quick hug. You had known Bill for less time, but he had become your older brother just the same as Charlie had.

“Have you gotten taller since last I saw you?” He questioned. You gave him a rather sarcastic expression in return. The last time you saw him was the summer before last and it was very likely you had grown since then.

Charlie greeted you the same way, except he was far more nosy. He gave you a big hug and another remark about the status of you and Fred. “Any updates?” You rolled your eyes at the question. God, it was getting so old.

“For the last time, Charlie.” You whispered, glancing back to see if Fred was anywhere near you. “We aren’t dating and we won’t be anytime soon, so give it a rest.” He shrugged playfully at your response, not quite believing your words. Up until then, you had meant it every time you said it. But this time you weren’t so sure. Either way, you wanted to change the subject. This wasn’t difficult to do with Charlie. All you had to do was ask him about his dragons and he completely forgot about any situation between you and Fred.

That night had been deemed an honorary Christmas Eve since actual Christmas would be spent at Hogwarts. Molly had prepared a wonderful dinner for everyone, which was loud and chaotic with so many people fitting into one table. You made it work just fine. The sound of laughter, stories, and cheerful conversation filled your ears and kept a smile to your face. This was truly your favorite place to be.

After dinner had concluded and the noise had begun to die out, Molly hurried you out of the room. It was Christmas Eve and she had more she wanted to accomplish before morning. You offered your help, but it was declined “You enjoy the rest of your night, dear.” She told you. So once everyone else had departed for their rooms, you climbed the stairs with Fred following behind.

“So, Ginny’s room then?” Fred started, waiting for you to make a questioning face to continue. “Unless, you know, you want to share my bed.” The slightest bit of heat burned in your cheeks at the notion and when you looked back, he wore an exaggerated smirk.

“Nice try, Weasley.” You replied, crossing your arms. You had made it to Ginny’s room but he had more sets of stairs to climb. “I don’t think your brother would take too kindly to that idea.”

“No, he likely would not.” He admitted simply, leaning against the wall beside you. “But it was worth a shot.” The boy winked and you shook your head.

You mimicked his stance, leaning against the doorframe. “Goodnight, Freddie.”

“Goodnight, darling.” He held your gaze for another moment and then continued down the hall. You felt like melting right into the door, following him with your eyes as he climbed the next flight of stairs and out of sight. A sudden longing filled your heart. You wouldn’t admit it to Fred, but part of you would want nothing more than to follow him.

Right then you came to terms with your situation. You would tell him your feelings. You didn’t know when or where, but you would. Otherwise, you’d be stuck with nothing more than quick touches and flirty questions forever.

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Morning came quickly, and you found yourself awake before everyone else. It was a tradition for you and Fred. Each year, on Christmas, the two of you would wake up several hours earlier than the others. And each year Fred would try and beat you downstairs. However, he was never fully committed to the task and always awoke much later.

This year was no different. While you sat on the couch with a book, the boy lumbered into the living room with a heavy yawn. Without even so much as a good morning, he collapsed onto the couch beside you and hurried his head into the cushion. You giggled and used a free hand to tail a strand of his hair.

“Every year it gets harder to wake up.” He complained, his voice muffled against the fabric. A sigh escaped his body at your touch.

“You poor thing,” was your response. You let him lay like that for a minute, without disturbing him, until he was a little more awake. Eventually, he sat up and slid across the couch closer to you, sitting beside you and reading over your shoulder. This didn’t keep Fred’s attention for very long and soon he turned his head to gaze out the window. It had snowed a little more last night, leaving everything covered in a thin blanket of white.

After a moment or so, he glanced back down at you to find your eyes still traveling across the pages of your book to soak up all the ink spoke about. The sight put a sense of relaxation into his body. He sunk back down into his seat, leaning an elbow against the back of the couch.

He admired you like this for as long as he could before you noticed. You lowered your book, and turned to meet his eyes. “What?” You questioned him. Instead of avoiding your eyes, Fred gazed back into them, not in the slightest attempting to avoid them.

“Just trying to figure out what’s so interesting about that book.” He teased, breaking out of the trance you had him in. You shook your head at the statement, setting it down beside you.

“I’m so sorry to have bored you.” You returned sarcastically, turning to face him in the couch. When you met his eyes again, it took all his willpower not to get stuck there.

“That’s alright, I forgive you.” Fred replied, smiling at the chuckle he earned from you. He glanced out the small window again, noticing the little white flurries that had begun to fall from the grey clouds in the sky above.

“Let’s go for a walk.” He suggested after a long moment. You followed his gaze out the window.

“Where?”

“Wherever you want, love.” He took your hands and lifted you to your feet, gathering your coat and his to bundle up for the cold. Fred kept ahold of your hand and led you out the door, the burst of cold air hitting your body immediately. It was a dreadful change from the warmth of the house.

Despite your complaints, you followed Fred out into the snow, watching the shape his footprints left behind. Blades of grass tried to poke through where you both walked, successful here and there since there hadn’t yet been enough snow to conceal it completely.

It didn’t take long for you to adjust to the cold, as much as one could be. The original shock of it was replaced with rosy cheeks and a pink nose. You drifted away from the house, arm in arm with Fred.

Crossing the pathway was a hazard. Instead of snow, a layer of ice coated the stone beneath. And without much thought, Fred stepped onto it, immediately sliding to the ground and dragging you down with him.

“Fred!” You exclaimed in surprise, hitting the ground hard. He unfortunately didn’t do much to break your fall.

“Sorry!” He apologized profusely, rubbing the back of his head where he made contact with the ice. He placed a hand on the ground beside you to try and steady himself enough to stand, but his feet slipped out from under him and he came back down to join you. You burst into laughter.

“Oh, you hush,” he remarked, not-so-gracefully pulling you with him to the edge of the path to gain traction in the snow. Finally, he managed to stand, lifting you with him by your hands. From then on you both avoided the path.

The two of you continued on, wandering around in the snow until your fingers started to freeze. Fred led you into his father’s shed, which was where he kept his collection of muggle artifacts.

He slid the door open enough for you to slip inside. There was no heat, but it was insulated enough to provide a significant relief from the weather outside. “God, it’s cold.” You complained, blowing into your cupped hands in an attempt to warm your frozen fingers.

Fred leaned against the counter on one wall of the little structure. He opened his arms as an invitation. “Well, you know body heat is the best way to warm up.” He stated confidently, sending you a smirk. You agreed a little too quickly and walked into his arms. Who were you to turn down such an offer? As much as you hated to admit it to him, he was absolutely correct. Warmth radiated from his body, relieving you from your cold temperature. You opened his coat and slid your arms around him inside it, making it even warmer.

“Better?” He asked, arms embracing you. You nodded, gazing up at him with frosty cheeks and a little smile. His expression softened at the sight, getting trapped by your eyes once more. Your face seemed to glow to him, despite how cold it was for you.

“Much,” You replied simply, breathing in the smell of his jacket. This particular one he wore often. He wore it the day of the quidditch game and it still smelled of gunpowder. You buried your face in it, shielding yourself from the cold air.

Fred scanned the shed casually, his eyes catching an old record player. He pulled away from you just a little to reach it, apologizing with a chuckle when you complained. You turned your head to follow his gaze, watching him put one of the records into it.

“Dad showed me how to use these,” he explained, smiling in triumph when the music started up. “It’s a little different than the ones we have.” A slow song played, one that you had never heard before. But it felt like silk in your ears.

Fred took your hand, pulling you to him as he did when you were dancing in the corridor mere days before. “You want to dance here?” You questioned with a raised brow. The tiny shed severely lacked the space. He set a gentle hand on your waist, which stole any remaining words from your mouth immediately.

“Yeah, why not? Just don’t break anything.” He teased, beginning to sway you to the music. “McGonagall did say to practice, didn’t she?”

With less space around you, you both had to take a little more care than before, but you managed. He spun with you, following the tune of the song. Right away, you could tell it wasn’t his first time hearing it.

A minute or so into it and you realized the meaning. It was a love song. And that made your heart absolutely sick. He twirled you and met you again, pulling you back to him so your body rested against his. The gentle vibration of his humming travelled from him to you, seeping directly into your heart. Fred’s hand slid from your waist up to your back, filling you with both nerves and excitement. The mixture of the two felt like electricity in your veins.

Throughout the entire song, he managed to keep his eyes on yours. He seemed so calm. As if none of this made him into a wreck like it did you. Maybe behind the composure, it did make him nervous. You wanted more than anything then to be able to read his thoughts and find out.

Fred gazed down at you with gentle eyes, containing enough warmth that you were sure you’d never again feel the cold of the morning. “Fred?” You started softly, barely managing to get above a whisper. You heart thumbed against your chest and you desperately hoped it wasn’t noticeable.

“Yes, darling?” He responded, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand. He wasn’t making this any easier for you. You thought about your words, trying with everything you had to make sure you put them together correctly. Your steps became smaller as he focused on you, unable to choose which of your eyes to lock on.

You opened your mouth a little but nothing came out at first. There was so much you wanted to say and so little words fit to say it. “I-I don’t know how to tell you this.” You stuttered, which was rather uncharacteristic for you. Nothing had ever made you feel so nervous before. But now, as you stared up at Fred Weasley, the man you had slowly fallen so in love with, you couldn’t breathe. It must have been showing on your face, because his softened.

Fred lifted a hand to the side of your face, brushing his thumb delicately across your cheek. “Then let me.” He responded in the same hushed voice as yours. His expression changed just slightly, finally letting you pick up a hint of nerves.

He made up his mind, picking his other hand up to your face and leaning in to press his lips to yours. This time you let him. Your entire body lit up, sending a feeling from head to toe that made you want to burst. You slid your hands up to his chest, meeting him with the same longing he kissed you with. It was so long overdue.

He sighed into your lips before pulling away. But before you could even open your eyes he kissed you all over your face. From your forehead, to your cheeks, to your nose. You couldn’t help but giggle, your heart, stomach, and lungs all doing flips. It was almost overwhelming.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” Fred admitted, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “I love you, y/n. I have ever since I met you.”

You wanted to melt right into the wood of the floor at those words. Never did you expect to actually hear them. “I love you too, Freddie.” You told him, having no better way to say it than that.

His smile grew into a wide grin, having longed to hear you say that just as much as you longed to hear it from him. “Well then, my love,” he started, twirling you once more and then abandoning the dance altogether. “I would be nothing short of thrilled if we could prove my entire family and everyone else correct about us.” You could tell he had also waited a long time for this. It suddenly seemed silly how long the two of you had avoided the subject.

“I’d like that,” You responded, mimicking his grin. Fred seemed more full of joy now than you’d ever seen him. He still held you there, savoring the feeling of your touch that meant something a little different than before. Now that he had you, he never wanted to let go.

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You walked back through the snow, wanting to get to the house before everyone started to wonder where you were. The entire way Fred’s mind was focused on you like a horse with blinders on. It was only the cold bite of the wintery morning that convinced him he wasn’t dreaming. His arm held yours with care, unwilling to part from you yet.

This time you avoided the path, climbing the slippery stairs of the porch cautiously to avoid another mishap. Fred stopped you at the door, sliding an arm around your waist. “I know you’ve known my siblings almost as long as I have, but I’m still going to apologize in advance. I think they’ve all been waiting for this for a long time.” You both fought a laugh at the statement. It was comical how involved everyone was in your relationship except for you and Fred— until now of course.

“Has it been as bad for you as it has me?” You questioned in a sarcastic tone.

He freed his hand to grab the door handle. “Maybe worse,” Fred snuck in another kiss before pushing the door open, not realizing it would not go unnoticed.

You stepped inside only to be met by George, who stood across the room with his jaw practically on the floor. “George?” You called.

“George before you go making a scene, let’s—” Fred started, knowing full well his brother would be more than happy to make a scene. He, of course, was interrupted by George yelling up the stairs.

“Charlie!” He shouted, climbing the stairs when he didn’t get a response. As expected, he completely ignored the protests behind him. You exchanged a look with Fred, who carried the same expression as you.

You came in and hung up your coats, just in time to see all the Weasleys piling in one at a time. Ginny was first, followed by Hermione. She looked at you two and then up the stairs. “I’ve never seen George look so happy in my life.” She said skeptically, hearing him bang on Charlie’s door from downstairs.

“He’s going to announce our relationship to the entire house.” Fred complained, earning an immediate series of excited gasps from the girls. They gathered around you, forgetting Fred’s existence entirely.

Bill had entered with perfect timing. “Relationship?” He inquired. “Did you—.”

“Yes, Bill.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. So far none of this had gone to plan. “If you must know, it’s true. We’re together.” God, it was embarrassing to tell everyone like this. Even in knowing everyone here was family to you in every way but blood.

Ginny and Hermione both grinned, expecting a full explanation from you. “Really?” Bill questioned, clearly not quite believing what he was hearing. It had been several years in the making.

“Yeah well, we talked it out, weighed the pros and cons.” Fred remarked sarcastically, earning a poorly concealed laugh from you. He opening his mouth to speak again, but was once again interrupted by the appearance of another brother.

Charlie stepped off the bottom stair, followed by George. They both wore smug smiles. “Fred and I are never dating, Charlie! You’re crazy, Charlie! Give it a rest, Charlie!” The older boy mimicked what you had said to him just the night before, mocking your assurances. He walked over and ruffled your hair, sending his brother a wink. Fred rolled his eyes dramatically. “But was I really crazy?”

Bill crossed his arms, chiming in again. “You are crazy, yes.”

Charlie sent him a look and returned his attention to you two. “Except poor timing, you were one day late.” He frowned.

George stepped forward, holding a hand out to Charlie and Bill. Your eyes followed him with a puzzled expression. “I believe I’m owed something.” He said to the both of them. They sighed and handed over a few coins each.

You stared at them in shock. “You guys did not have a bet on us.”

“We did.” Charlie replied with no shame. “I told you right to your face we did.” He glared at George as he pocketed his money.

“I figured you were joking.” A sigh escaped you.

“Nope.” George stated simply. “Charlie thought it would be before Christmas, Bill thought after, and I knew it would be on Christmas.

“But this isn’t actually Christmas.” Hermione chimed in, questioning their logic. The three brothers exchanged a glance at her words.

Before any arguing started, Molly and Arthur arrived. “Morning everyone!” Molly greeted. “And congratulations!” She pulled you into a tight hug, heat rushing to your face. It was one thing when Fred’s siblings did it, but Molly and Arthur were a completely different story.

“Ok, mom. It’s Christmas, can we all avoid making this about us? You’re going to overwhelm my girlfriend.” Fred stated, earning gasps and looks from everyone in the room; including you. You knew Fred Weasley and you knew he did this on purpose. Your suspicions were confirmed upon seeing his subtle smirk.

Ron, Harry, and Percy arrived, completing the group. “Did we miss something?” Ron questioned, confused at why everyone was gathered around like this.

George elbowed his brother. “Didn’t you hear? Freddie’s got himself a girlfriend.” He said, sending you a wink. You hoped your cheeks were still red from the cold so it would cover your blush.

Ron started a reply but was stopped by Arthur swooping in to save you. “Alright Weasleys, let’s not forget it’s Christmas!” He exclaimed, gesturing to the heavily decorated tree and the pile of gifts surrounding its base. You sighed, thankful for the distraction. Fred squeezed your shoulder gently as a silent apology, but all you responded with was a silent giggle. The whole situation was ridiculous.

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It didn’t take long before the entire group was gathered around, each of you sorting the the gifts to find the ones with the correct name. Molly had knitted everyone a new version of her famous sweater, all with the initial of who it belonged to sewn into the front. Before you knew it, each and every one of you had found theirs and put it on.

You glanced at the girls in time to see them exchanging neatly decorated gift boxes, turning to you with yours. Across the room, Ron laughed at something Harry received loudly enough that it caught the attention of half the family. Beside you, Fred and George looked through the box of materials you gifted them; all things they could use in whatever experiments they pleased.

“Alright, I have a special one for you.” Fred told you, pulling your attention to him.

“Is that so?” Your eyes landed on a small box he pulled out. It was wrapped in an obvious failed attempt to be perfectly neat, but you loved it just the same.

As you reached out to take it from him, he held it playfully out of your reach. “Fred!” You exclaimed, severely exaggerating an annoyed expression. He laughed brightly, letting you struggle for another moment before handing it over. You snatched it right out of his hand, eyeing him.

“Oh just open, darling. The anticipation is killing me.” He told you, leaning a hand on the ground to sit over your shoulder. You shook your head and carefully tore open the packing, once again wondering if Fred fully knew the effect he so easily had on you. Beneath the paper and tucked inside a little box lay a bracelet. The sight made you practically melt. The piece of jewelry was the exact one you had pointed out that night at the quidditch game, so many months ago.

“It’s the one I told you about. You kept it for this long?” You smiled at the pride in his expression. Fred took the bracelet and your wrist, gently tying it on for you. He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by his twin brother.

“It was almost longer too.” George cut in, still sifting through the box in front of him. “He would’ve left it at Hogwarts if I hadn’t seen it with his things and so heroically rescued it for him.”

Fred gave him a look, shoving his shoulder. “Well look, my intentions were good.” He swore, coaxing a giggle out of you.

“It’s perfect, Freddie. Thank you.” You replied, brushing your thumb over the surface of your bracelet. He smiled down at you with an expression somehow even happier than that of this morning.

“Merry Christmas, y/n.” He spoke softly, pressing a delicate kiss to your temple.

Merry Christmas,” You replied in the same manner, unable to keep a grin off your face. What a perfect Christmas it was turning out to be.

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Taglist:

@superlegend216 @ivymyers @inkedeye2345 @eaterof-concrete @maximumzinesharkskeleton-blog @getthefuckoutofhereidiot

Let me know if you want to be added ♡

[writingonwings]

Masterlist

Below the cut you’ll find everything I currently have available. All writing you find here is my own work ♡

Requests are open ↓

✵ Star Wars:

Din Djarin:

Into your arms - 1k

As long as I’m here - 1.2k

Brown eyes - 1k

Little clan - <1k

Poe Dameron:

⋆˙⟡ Requests open

✵ Wizarding World:

Fred Weasley:

Promise - <1k

Sugar cookies - 2k

She calls me Freddie - series

⋆˙⟡ Requests open

Remus Lupin:

Off limits - <1k

⋆˙⟡ Requests open

Sirius Black:

⋆˙⟡ Requests open

James Potter:

⋆˙⟡ Requests open

Newt Scamander:

⋆˙⟡ Requests open

✵ Tolkien/Middle earth:

Elrond:

Sunlight - 1.1k

Gravity - 1.5k

Doe eyes - WIP

✵ Marvel:

Bob Reynolds/Sentry:

Haircut - 4.4k

Nightmares - 6.3k

Ordinary - WIP

Heavy in your arms - WIP

⋆˙⟡ Requests open

Yelena Belova:

Ship to wreck - WIP

⋆˙⟡ Requests open

✵ Top Gun:

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw:

⋆˙⟡ Requests open

Robert “Bob” Floyd:

⋆˙⟡ Requests open

Natasha “Phoenix” Trace:

⋆˙⟡ Requests open

My requests are open! I’m currently writing for all the characters listed here (if you have one not on here but from the same universe/fandom, fire away!) Send me your ideas, they’re always welcome!

[writingonwings]

HIII! I loved your, “Sunlight” fanfic! I was wondering if you could do an elrond x fem!elf!reader (close friends who have feelings for each other) fic where after the battle for eregion elrond is upset and depressed abt it, and the reader finds him crying alone on a cliff or by a tree (like on outdoor setting) and begins to comfort him and finds out that he’s been dealing with this for a long time? thank you!

Gravity

✵ Pairing: Elrond Peredhel / f!elven!reader

✵ Word count: 1.5k

✵ Summary: Nothing was the same after Eregion’s destruction. But you had yet to discover just how difficult it had been for Elrond.

✵ Warnings: Angsty but still touching. Pretty heavy theme of depression. I think the summary paints a good picture of what to expect

✵ A/n: Thank you anon for the beautiful request. I absolutely love how this turned out and I hope you do too! I think this is now a favorite of mine ♡

Time seemed to pass slowly following Eregion’s downfall. Hours stretched into days, and days stretched into weeks. One by one, each elf found themselves able to let go of their sorrow. But each would be bound to carry the tragic memory until the end of their days.

Despite the new-found acceptance, a feeling of grief still lay heavy in the air. It was a gravity that tugged at each soul that walked there. You could feel it in every part of your body. It was as if you were being pulled toward the ground by some force invisible to your eye, making each step more difficult to take than the last.

It was taken this way by most. For the race of elves did not take a loss of their own lightly. Even those who were not directly affected by this massacre felt its sharp sting.

Today, however, your feet felt lighter to you. It was the subtlest of changes, but it brought to you a small flicker of hope. Like the first sparks preceding a great flame. It was a welcome relief following the past several weeks. You could only hope those close to you had begun to feel the same.

Elrond concerned you most. He had closed himself off from everyone around him, yourself included. You didn’t believe he was to blame for any of what occurred, but you knew he had taken on that burden all the same. It pained your heart.

Despite your best efforts, he would not share his thoughts aloud. At least not all of them. There would be no way to know the full extent of his grief unless he shared it with you. Therefore, you could not do much to comfort him.

A gentle breeze touched your skin, returning to you your optimism. It was then you decided to seek out Elrond, in hopes of seeing an improvement in his state.

The temporarily built camp was quiet, for stories had been told and songs had been sung late into the night. This was how your people found comfort in even the darkest of times; by finding comfort in one another.

In the silence, you could feel a gentle shift from sadness into peace, making it seem less like something to be avoided. Normally, you would relish in this peace. However, today it only brought to your notice the absence of just the person you were searching for. You had sought him out in every place you could think of within the little sanctuary, but you were so far unsuccessful.

A new thought crossed your mind and your eyes drifted beyond, out over the freshly discovered land. Elrond was likely not in the camp at all. He would prefer a quiet place away from the weight of the group. A place where he could feel his burden lifted, even if only for a moment. You changed direction, weaving your way back through the refuge toward where your instincts led. You could only hope those instincts would prove correct.

Your feet brought you far from the rest of the elves, high into the cliffs above. The sound of rushing water crowded your sensitive ears, covering up any quieter noise that could not succeed in the fight to be heard. It led you on toward the spot where you first looked over the valley many weeks ago. A quiet spot tucked cleverly into the cover of rock and greenery. This is where you found him.

Elrond sat on his knees, his body facing out over the land so you could only see the backside of him. As you approached, his frame stiffened a little, sensing your sudden presence. The sight of him there made your heart sink, dwindling your enthusiasm away. “Oh, Elrond—” You started quietly, only to be cut off by the faintest of sounds managing to climb above the water. It was a muffled whimper, barely audible to even your ears until you were closer.

The little noise stopped you before another step was taken. Even after all the time you had known Elrond, you had never truly seen him cry. The sound felt like a wound to your heart, dropping it in your chest. It was then you realized why he had chosen this particular place to escape to. It concealed him perfectly, sight and sound. And it was not the easiest to find either. Even you did not think to search here for many hours. How many times had he come up here?

Wordlessly, you approached Elrond and settled onto the ground beside him. He tensed initially, so you set a hand on his arm to wash it away. Out of shame, he hid his head in his hands, but it was not before you caught a glimpse of his face. Tears stained Elrond’s cheeks and dampened his usually tidy curls. The sight enabled you to feel for a moment the weight of sorrow he carried on his shoulders. Oh, how you desperately wished to lighten it for him.

“I am sorry, y/n.” He managed to get out shakily, ashamed to have let you see him in such a state. The words twisted at you. Elrond thought it best to hold is tears inside, only expressing his pain in isolation. This way he can protect those he cares about from his feelings.

You set a hand on the side of his face, using your thumb to brush a fresh tear off his cheek. “Do not apologize for what shadow weighs down your heart. It should have never been yours to bear.” He took a much steadier breath upon hearing your words, which was a small victory. However, he sensed your thoughts. You still wished for him to share his sadness with you, and he was still reluctant to do so.

“If you continue to carry this burden alone, it will become unbearable.” You told him, searching for any sort of give. Elrond gazed back at you with round, tearful eyes, giving him an almost childlike appearance. It only furthered your longing to relieve his misery. “Let me carry it with you.” Your words pleaded directly with his soul.

Something in him finally caved, willing to give in to you. But his next words came out slowly, as if he had to force himself to say each one. “There is a heaviness that has made home in my heart. It feels as if I am underwater, being pulled further and further below the surface. And every time I try to swim to safety, I can only sink deeper.” Elrond’s eyes fell away from yours, tears escaping and rolling down his cheeks. He had to take a shaky breath before continuing, preventing himself from breaking down completely. “At times, I feel like I am drowning, suffocating. All I want is air and it is always just out of my reach.”

The pull of your own tears burned in your throat. He had hidden these thoughts so well from you when you could have provided comfort. “Elrond,” you whispered, feeling his body sink lower toward the ground. “How long have you suffered this alone?”

His gaze was drawn back up to yours, hesitant even after what he had already said. A sigh escaped his lips. “It has been longer than you know,” Elrond admitted quietly, his voice barely touching your ears over the raging waterfall. “I often longed to share my feelings with you, but I did not wish to place my sorrow on your shoulders.”

The statement was enough to split your heart into several pieces. Elrond had isolated himself out of fear. Fear of burdening you with his pain. You moved to kneel in front of him, taking his hands in your own. “You fear increasing the weight of your burden. But if you let me, I would help you lighten it.” You gave his hands a careful squeeze. “Elrond, the only sorrow I have is in knowing you feel this way. And that is something given to me by my love for you. Not by the thoughts you have been afraid to tell me.”

Something inside Elrond gave way. He freed his hands from yours and pulled you into a deep embrace, burying his face in the dip of your neck. You held him tightly in return, a hand finding home amid his soft curls. It was there he wept, his body shaking with tears that dampened your skin. You could not tell how long you stayed there, but you did not move until he had freed every ounce of pain that had been caged and stored away. Elrond had finally given you the opportunity to comfort him, and you would not take it for granted.

Your embrace had begun to heal a small part of him in a way that words could not. Though it would be a long and winding road to being free from this burden, you had been able to relieve some of its weight. Just enough that he could begin to feel the same hope that flickered in your mind. Hope that it would not always be this way. That one day you both would come out better than even before everything that had happened. Even though it was only a small fraction of the hope it could be, it was a vast improvement from only moments ago. And for now, that was more than enough.

✵ Find more like this here

[writingonwings]

Sunlight

✵ Pairing: Elrond / f!reader

✵ Word Count: 1.1k

✵ Summary: You always had a fondness for the sun, for it reminds you of your lover

✵ Warnings: None, just fluff

✵ a/n: I love this sort of writing style but haven’t taken a shot at it until now so bear with me

There were many things you loved about this world. Little things that filled your heart with a certain flicker of Joy. On this particular morning, it was the gentle glow of the sun on the trees, seeping through and spilling onto the forest floor. The warm sensation it created crawled across your skin, leaving you to attempt at soaking up all you could.

The fabric of your dress draped behind you, picking up golden leaves that had departed from their former home in the trees above. They were not unlike the leaves that so effortlessly decorated your hair, wrapping around the crown of your head to hold the pieces out of your face that would otherwise fall in the way.

The warm breeze of summer blew from the edge of the trees to swirl around you, disturbing the lightest of leaves on the forest floor. The ones that had fallen the most recently. The feeling persuaded your lips into the gentlest of smiles. One that could only be seen when observed closely.

It was here, at the tree’s edge, where you found your lover. Elrond rested at the base of a shining tree, surrounded by soft grass and every manner of flower one could imagine. He held in his hands a leather-bound book, overflowing with a messy array of pages that had been aged and weathered with time. His eyes traveled with care across the opened page, soaking up every bit of what the words spoke to him. Your smile found itself a little wider than in the moments past.

Your hands took hold of the soft fabric that clothed you, lifting it just enough to free your feet and your pace. The moment you stepped out from the cover of trees, you were engulfed fully in the sunlight and all its warmth. It comforted your heart and quickened your feet.

You reached Elrond swiftly and dropped down beside him, feeling any tension leave his body upon your arrival. “I had hoped to find you here.” You told him, watching his eyes find yours without delay. He appeared especially fair to you today. His brown curls had grown to a wonderful length, reaching down to meet his brow and curl under his ears. It complimented the rest of his face.

His eyes softened lovingly, admiring you as if this were the last time he could look upon your face. “I hoped you would as well, starlight.” Elrond took your hand in his own, placing a delicate kiss there. You wanted to melt at his touch, his lips against your skin. The feeling spread across your body in the same way the light of the morning had.

You settled in next to him, his body moving instinctively to cradle you in his arms. Elrond picked up his book once more, now shifting to read its contents aloud to you. His voice moved through your ears like a song. Its melody reaching the very depths of your soul and coaxing your body into a state of peace.

You studied his face, which seemed to glow under the bright kiss of sunlight. He was the only being in this world that you found to resemble that light so closely. His warm smile and kind nature carried to you the same comfort as the golden rays that peeked through the leaves to greet you. You had grown rather fond of the feeling.

The subtle rise and fall of each breath in Elrond’s chest returned you to your senses after your thoughts had led you astray, pulling your attention back to his reading. Each word fell off his lips smooth as silk, having you wishing he would never find the end of those pages.

Without disrupting, you gathered up a few flowers that resided in the grass beside you, protecting them in your palms. A hand reached up with a bright golden one to weave into your lover’s hair, only further adding to the thought of comparison of your Elrond to the morning’s sun. His near perfect telling of his story faltered momentarily, and you could feel warmth travel to his face. Even after all the time that had passed, the smallest act could still so easily distract him. An airy giggle escaped your lips at this thought, which did not go unnoticed by him.

“Oh, how you tease me,” Elrond spoke, turning his head to press a long kiss to your temple. He almost made you falter right alongside him.

“Do not pretend it is only I who does. I can recall several occasions where it was you, Elrond.” You returned, your words accompanied by a smile. His shoulders shook with subtle laughter, beckoning you to continue on your task of flowering his hair. After a few more had been added, Elrond was able to return to his book, allowing you to weave your fingers gently through his curls.

Despite your previous wishes, Elrond’s soft eyes followed the final line of the page, and his lips formed the shape of the final word. Soon enough, the book had been abandoned in the grass, freeing his other hand to caress your face.

You gazed up at him, his tidy brown curls were now disheveled, having become home to the forest’s golden flowers. Your smile slid back onto your face, bringing with it your gentle laughter. Elrond practically melted, adoring the sound in the same way you adored hearing his voice utter the words to a story; spoken in a way you believed even the original teller could not achieve.

He peppered your face with kisses, each one like little butterflies beneath your skin. “I want to stay here with you as long as time will allow us.” You told him, watching his lips curve into his own smile.

“My dear, time will allow us eternity.” He spoke in return, planting a kiss to the bridge of your nose. He could not resist another opportunity to feel your skin beneath his lips. “And I would want nothing more than to spend every last moment of it with you.” His smile lit up his entire face, almost seeming to you to be its own source of light and warmth. You wanted to absorb as much of the sight as your eyes could manage.

✵

There were many things you loved about this world. However, there was only one that filled your heart and soul with such an immeasurable amount of joy, longing, love, and everything in between. From the moment your eyes first fell on him and for the rest of your days it is and will always be Elrond. And nothing is a better reminder for you than these mornings spent under the touch of sunlight.

✵ Find more like this here

[writingonwings]

She calls me Freddie (Pt. 3)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, banter, my portrayal of Charlie Weasley, underage drinking, Ron and Harry aren’t fighting for as long (sorry not sorry)

Summary: The competitors are selected and the first task approaches quickly. After Harry succeeds the twins put together a party for Gryffindor

Word count: 5.2k

(Part 3 - Find all other parts here!)

༺═────────────═༻

A good few weeks passed before your hair fully returned to normal and even though you considered it, you didn’t make Fred dye his again. But you did need to go through a couple more boxes on yourself. After the third cycle, the dye finally faded away to its normal color rather than red, which you welcomed back gratefully.

Even after all the time that had passed, the competitors still weren’t chosen. You all tried to go about your day as normal, but anticipation and excitement quickly began to spread through the school. Everyone, student and staff, was eager to start the tournament. Although everyone had entered within the first few days of the year, the selection wouldn’t be made until tonight, weeks later.

After dinner everyone gathered in the great hall, chatting on about their guesses on who would be the three students. Some of the tables had been set aside and replaced with the wood bleachers, situated so that the goblet was in the center of the room and everyone would have a good view of it. You sat on these bleachers just one seat in front of Fred, leaning back to let his knees support you.

Dumbledore stepped up to the cup and instructed everyone to sit, waiting until they did so to begin speaking. “Now the moment you’ve all been waiting for, the champion selection!” He announced to the now quiet room. Every single one of you were paying attention. The professor waved a hand across the room, dimming the torches until the blue flame was the main source of light.

He stepped toward the cup, staring at it as if willing it to do something. On cue, the blue fire suddenly turned red and spit out a small piece of paper, which Dumbledore caught. “The Durmstrang champion is,” he started, reading off the name. “Viktor Krum!” Cheers came from their table and everyone clapped him on the back. Viktor stood and walked down to the headmaster, shaking his hand.

With no warning, the goblet presented another name, this time written on an elegant piece of parchment lined with gold. “The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacor!” Fleur stood with a smile, walking towards Dumbledore with applause following her. She shook his hand as well and then off to the next competitor.

“The Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory!” The room erupted into cheers as his name was called, being a popular choice amongst the Hogwarts entries. Cedric wore a proud smile, accepting every congratulations he was given on the way up to the rest of the champions. He shook Dumbledore’s hand before joining them.

“I still think I should’ve been able to enter.” Fred complained as the applause died out. You put a hand on his knee sympathetically.

“If only you were a year older.” You told him, still using his legs as the back of a chair. He absentmindedly began to twirl a piece of your hair.

“Excellent! We now have our three champions!” Dumbledore announced. “But in the end, only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions. This vessel of victory. The Tri-wizard cup!” Everyone’s attention was directed to the end of the hall where the cover was lifted off the trophy. It was a blue and silver cup, decorated elegantly and giving off a bright glow. The entire room applauded once more.

The celebration was suddenly put on hold, heads turning back to the stone goblet. The flame danced again in preparation of a fourth name. It turned red and another piece of paper was shot into the air, falling slowly into the headmaster’s hands.

“Harry Potter,” he read quietly. The entire room turned towards Harry, who sat on your right side. You glanced at him and he met your eyes nervously before looking back in Dumbledore’s direction. “Harry Potter?” He called, scanning the room for the boy.

Harry tried sinking further into his seat and you could feel the dread coming off of him. “Harry Potter!” Dumbledore yelled, finally spotting him.

“For goodness sake, Harry.” Hermione said, reaching down and grabbing his shoulder, pushing him in the right direction. The entire room was silent enough that you could hear the crackling of the fire. Harry reluctantly made his way to the professor, each slow step bringing more tension to the room.

The boy was handed his name and then headed toward the rest of the champions, his eyes moving between all the whispering students around him. The whispers soon turned into protests. “He’s a cheat!” “He’s not even seventeen yet!” Harry slouched, making him look smaller than normal. He passed the teachers, receiving looks from every one of them except for McGonagall who put a hand on his shoulder.

With all four students selected, the flame in the goblet died out until it was extinguished, leaving the room quiet and dark again. Dumbledore seemed to come back to his senses. “You’re all dismissed!” He yelled, hurrying everyone out of the hall so he could attend to the new situation. You gave Harry a sympathetic look, which he didn’t see because he was staring down at the floor, confused. You stood, taking Fred’s hand when he offered and letting him hold yours while you stepped off the bleachers.

“How do you supposed he did it?” Ron asked out in the hallway, now that the crowd dispersed.

“It doesn’t look like he did anything.” You replied. “He looked more confused than we were.”

“You don’t think he figured out a way to enter illegally?” Fred added, walking beside you.

“I don’t think there is a way to enter illegally. And definitely not a way that a fourth-year could figure out. Even Harry.” You responded and Hermione agreed with you. But there wasn’t any way to know for sure what happened until you were told straight from Harry.

─────────────────────────

Time passed in anticipation as everyone waited for the first task to be announced. You were told a couple of days after the champions were chosen that Harry didn’t put his name in the goblet and he would be competing just like the other three. Most people didn’t believe him and were even mad at him for being a competitor, but you stood by your belief. There’s no way he entered on his own.

As far as the first task goes, there would be no telling when or what it would be. It could be days from now or weeks. The one thing this tournament was good at is secrecy.

You sat on the couch in the currently quiet common room, reading one of the books you picked up from the library. During this time of day, most students were out and about, except for you and now Fred. He was silent entering the room until he jumped down onto the couch next to you, making you jump. “God, Fred.” You shook your head, ignoring him and drawing your gaze back down to your book.

He took it from you, setting it down on the table in a way to make sure you wouldn’t lose your page. You crossed your arms, glancing back up at him. “I have a secret.” He crossed his legs, facing you with a dorky smile.

“Oh yeah?” You replied, shifting so that you sat against the arm of the couch.

“But you can’t tell anyone because I’m not really supposed to know.”

“I can’t make any promises.”

“Well, then I can’t tell you, love.” He shrugged, acting like he was getting ready to stand and leave. But even if you were going to tell someone— which you weren’t— he would probably share it with you anyway.

“Fine,” You set a hand on his leg to keep him there. “I won’t tell anyone.”

He looked around him as if there were anyone else in the common room and leaned in close to you, brushing your hair out of the way so he could whisper in your ear. You contained a shiver as his fingers brushed against your neck. “I know what the first task is. “He said, boasting.

You sat back to look him in the eyes, raising an eyebrow. “How?” You asked him skeptically. “No offense, but you’re the last person they would tell.”

“Ok well, I don’t know exactly what it is but I do know what’s in it.” He admitted, his gaze briefly drifting to whatever was near the floor.

“And what is that?”

“Dragons,” he announced, waiting for your reaction. You sat up a little.

“Dragons?”

“Dragons.” He repeated. “And for your information, I said I wasn’t supposed to know. They only told me because my brother—”

“Charlie?” You interrupted, causing Fred to abandon the rest of his sentence.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yes, Charlie’s coming.” He said, already knowing your reaction. You grinned at the news.

“I haven’t seen him since Christmas! When’s he getting here?” You asked, speaking quickly. You had first met Charlie back in your first year and he immediately became an older brother to you. Even after he graduated, you still saw him during the holidays.

“We’re supposed to help him unload the dragons tonight.” Fred explained. “And he specifically instructed us to bring you.” Fred tilted his head toward you, amused at your excitement.

“Of course he did,” You told him, resting an arm on the back of the couch. “Otherwise he’d have to wait to see his favorite sibling again until Christmas.”

Fred shook his head. It was a running joke between you all and after the first few times it was told, it stopped bothering him. “Well, lucky for you. You get to see your favorite Weasley every day.”

You tilted your head, making a face that suggested Fred wasn’t your favorite. Even though evidence would prove otherwise. He scoffed and grabbed you from your spot on the couch, pulling you toward him to tickle you. “I know I didn’t just see you make that face.”

You laughed against your will, squirming to get out of his arms. “Fred, you’re torturing me!” You got out between giggles. You escaped his tickling but he still locked his arms around you, trapping you there.

“Freddie, Let me go!” You begged, using your hands to try and pry his arms off, clearly unsuccessful.

“Not until you take it back,”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You know what you did, y/n l/n.” He pouted exaggeratedly, loosening his grip a little when you stopped wiggling.

“Fine. You’re my favorite,” You admitted with a sigh.

“Your favorite what?”

“Freddie!”

“Your favorite what?” He teased you, squeezing you tightly. You turned around in his arms so that you were facing him.

“Okay, you’re my favorite person in the entire world.” you told him, making a stupid face at him. He paused for a split second. That wasn’t the answer he expected. But just as every other time, he snapped out of it quickly.

“Well, I’m flattered.” He replied, letting his hand slide to your shoulders and then down your arms to hold your hands. “And you’ll be happy to hear that you’re my favorite person too.” Fred booped your nose, putting a little smile on your face.

“That’s wonderful news.” You stated simply, taking in the details of the boy you were looking at. God, he really was attractive. And it was a mystery why it took you so long to realize it.

─────────────────────────

After dark, you all had to take a walk through the woods to get to the spot where the dragons were brought in. You, Fred, George, and Ron all came to see Charlie, each of you with a little light at the tip of your wands that acted as a flashlight.

“Where’s Ginny?” You asked, using your wand to see where you were walking.

“Dunno,” George replied with a shrug. “She said she’d see Charlie tomorrow.”

Despite the light he held, Ron tripped over a root and stumbled a few feet before catching himself and standing again. “I mean this with no offense,” He started, brushing himself off. “But why are you here? I mean he’s our brother—” He was cut off by Fred jabbing him with his elbow, sending him a brotherly glare.

“Because clearly he likes me better.” You returned, not bothered by his question. The sound of dragons growling in the distance was now becoming more audible.

“What, that’s ridiculous—” Ron was cut off again by George.

“No, she’s right. He said specifically in his owl that he likes her better than all three of us combined. And he wants her help with the dragons.” He explained to his younger brother.

“And anyway, she was invited. So why don’t you close that big mouth of yours, Ronnie.” Fred said, shoving his brother’s shoulder.

You came up on the spot, first seeing the four huge cages, all covered so that you couldn’t see what was in them. However, you did see a tall red-haired man climbing down from one of them. He beamed when he saw your group.

“Charlie doesn’t prefer her over his own brothers.” Ron mumbled. Fred glanced down at his brother and then gestured to you, who was already greeting Charlie.

“There she is!” He said, pulling you into a huge bear hug. It felt like he waited until you couldn’t breathe to let go of you. Charlie had a grin on his face, which was painted in a thin layer of ash. It spread even into his long red hair he had tied up, revealing the assortment of rings he wore in his ears. “How’s my favorite sibling?”

This was clearly meant to piss of Ron, which worked flawlessly. “She’s not even your sister,” He complained, crossing his arms. You shot him a look.

Charlie glanced at Ron and then Fred, eyeing him with a smirk. “Well, not yet.” He responded, sending a wink in your direction. You felt heat move to your cheeks, even more so at the look on Fred’s face.

“Nice to see you too, Charlie.” Fred responded sarcastically, doing his best to quickly shake off his previous expression.

Once Charlie properly greeted his brothers, he handed out hard leathery coats, gloves, and boots. “What are these for?” Ron asked, putting on the garments. You slipped yours on, letting it fall around you. It was long enough to reach your boots, making it so your whole body was covered.

“That’s to keep you from burning to death when we get a look at these guys,” Charlie responded, patting the cage. “They’re definitely not happy after such a long trip in such a small cage.” Ron visibly gulped and made sure to button up the coat completely.

“That’s small?” George asked, watching his older brother make his way to the first cage. He nodded casually.

“For them, it is.” Charlie added. He was around dragons long enough that he could forget none of this was normal for everyone else. Most people have never even seen one in person.

On each corner of the cage, the cover was held in place by thick chains, which carried a lock just as impressive in size. “Put your hoods on,” Charlie instructed, kneeling down to the first lock. “And make sure you don’t get your face melted. That coat is completely fireproof but anything uncovered is gonna get burned.” He pointed out a little flap on the inside of your coat that you could lift over your face if needed.

Charlie flicked his wand, unlocking the first corner. The chain fell and allowed its portion of the cover to flap a little. The dragon inside rumbled at the movement. “Get ready!” He called, walking over to the next lock where you stood.

He unlocked it and as soon as the chain fell, the cover lifted and fell toward the other side of the cage, revealing the dragon inside. There was absolutely no warning but Charlie somehow grabbed you quickly enough, covering your face and turning you so your back was toward the dragon. Within part of a second, fire surrounded you two, simply bouncing off of your jackets. You felt nothing more than a a sudden wave of heat.

Once it ended, Charlie brushed any remaining flames off of you and turned toward the creature. He spoke firmly to it in a dialect you didn’t recognize, which settled the dragon.

You glanced over at Fred, who stared back at you with wide eyes and his mouth slightly agape. “Bloody hell.” He said quietly, putting a hand to his chest so he could start breathing again.

Charlie spoke like this for a minute until the dragon sat contently in its cage. That’s when you finally got a good look at it. It was absolutely huge, with sharp horns running across its back and down its tail, covering the majority of its body. Charlie wasn’t joking when he said the cage was too small. “A horntail?” You asked, beyond impressed. You received a proud grin from him, as if he was showing you his child.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” He replied, pulling off the rest of the cover. Fred walked to your side reluctantly, not quite trusting that it was done breathing fire.

“I’ve never seen one in person,” you said in absolute awe. It’s huge head turned toward you, eyes focusing on your face for a few moments before losing interest. The dragon turned around in its cage, getting a good look at its new surroundings.

Charlie had you all split up and take a section of the remaining cages at a time. “These ones won’t be so aggressive.” He assured. “The horntail was the hardest of all of them.” You and Charlie walked ahead to get to the next cage, which was parked farther away to avoid conflict between the dragons.

“So, when are you going to start dating my little brother?” Charlie asked suddenly, gesturing to Fred who walked a little ways behind. You snapped your head up to him.

“What are you talking about, Charlie? We’re not dating.” You replied to him, taken aback by his forward question.

“Oh please, y/n.” He said, wiping a bit of ash off his face, which smudged black against his pale skin. “We’ve all been taking bets since your first year.”

You stuttered, clearly not knowing how to respond. He laughed at this, stopping at the corner of the cage.

“If you say you don’t like him even a little then you’re lying.” He said, kneeling down and unlocking the first lock. “And I need you to hurry up and get with him or I’ll lose money to Bill.” Charlie has always been one to say exactly what he was thinking but this was the first time it caught you so off guard. Ron was on the other side and undid the second lock, unveiling a smaller green dragon. This one was quite vocal but didn’t attempt to roast you.

“I’m so glad you know how I feel about him, Charlie.” You replied, crossing your arms. He shrugged and smiled, turning to remove the cover completely.

You noticed George struggling with a cage by himself so you walked over to help him, trying to avoid any further interrogation from his older brother.

“Oi, Fred. Help me with this one!” Charlie called, heading to the last cage. Fred passed you on the way over, nudging you playfully with his elbow. You made a face at him, brining out his wonderful laugh.

You made it to George, shaking your head and sighing as you kneeled down beside him. “God, does everyone think I’m in love with Fred?” You asked sarcastically. George paused for a moment and glanced at you, then returned to his work.

“Yes,” he responded simply. “But to be fair, most of us have a filter. Unlike Charlie” He nodded to the next lock and you moved there.

“I don’t know why everyone assumes that.” You muttered, lifting your wand to the lock in front of you.

“Well, are you?” George questioned, his eyes still focused on his corner of the cage.

“No!” You snapped defensively. But then your eyes drifted to Fred and you weren’t so sure. The sight of him made you feel like melting right there. He looked like he was actually starting to enjoy this, smiling as a smaller red dragon pressed its nose against the cage to greet him. He looked different to you lately. Just looking at him started to make your stomach flip.

George caught your stare. “You sure?”

You sighed, letting your face soften as you watched him. “No,” You said quietly. George looked up at you, surprised that you admitted it.

Do you even know how you feel about him? So much has change since the summer, but maybe that’s exactly why. Maybe you were proving everyone right after all. You paused for a minute before continuing on, looking down at George. “You can’t tell Fred.”

He glanced at his twin and then at you, probably considering wether or not to agree. After a brief moment, he gave you a soft smile. “I won’t, I promise.”

“Thank you, George.” You said, relieved. Charlie came over to your cage and helped you lift the cover completely to reveal a Swedish short snout, which was already fairly calm.

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It was late when you finally finished since Charlie wanted every dragon to be settled perfectly into their temporary enclosures. “When is the task?” You asked him.

“Two days from now.” He answered casually, giving each dragon a once over.

“And how long are you staying?”

“I’ll be leaving with them once they’re done.” He told you and shoved your shoulder playfully. “But I’ll still see you for Christmas. You’re coming to the burrow, right?”

“I don’t think I have a choice, Charlie.” You said with a chuckle. Fred appeared by your side, resting an arm around your shoulder. “Fred is going to drag me there wether I like it or not.”

“Absolutely correct.” He responded, booping your nose and giving you a stupid perfect smile. Your eyes were stuck on his for a moment, mimicking his soft expression until you thought about your conversation with George. Your gaze drifted to him briefly, only to see his smirk.

Once Charlie was satisfied and absolutely sure all four dragons were taken care of, he let you go. The walk back was long and dark and the woods seemed to be endless. Fred offered an arm to you until you exited the forest, which you took and didn’t let go of even when you reached the castle.

A certain tension hung in the air between you two, there because both of you wanted to say something you couldn’t. Fred broke this with whatever thought was on his mind. “Glad we got to see Charlie.” He said sarcastically, coaxing a quiet laugh out of you.

“I imagine he had the same conversation with you, then?” You inquired, glancing down at the stone floor beneath your feet. The castle was dimly lit but still much brighter than the pitch black of the forest.

“That depends on if we’re thinking of the same conversation.” He responded, avoiding saying the words directly.

“I think we are.”

“I think we are too.”

Out of all your years of knowing Fred, this was the first time your talking flowed almost awkwardly. Normally it came so naturally to you two.

There was a long pause before you spoke again. “He’s just being Charlie though. Just ridiculous.” When you said it, you weren’t sure you meant it as much as before. Honestly, Charlie was likely not being ridiculous at all.

“Yeah, ridiculous.” Fred replied. Was there disappointment in his voice? God, the awkwardness made you want to squirm. That awkwardness was exactly why you didn’t want Fred to know what you said to George. It would ruin the dynamic between you, which was years in the making.

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The next two days went by quickly and after that night you both seemed to forget about what happened with Charlie. Or at least pretended it didn’t happen. Regardless, both of you were back to normal. That morning the task was finally announced, giving only a couple of hours notice to the spectators.

The stadium, which would hold the event, was already occupied by nearly every student and teacher. You had managed to find and keep three sits for you and the twins, who had decided to hold betting. Once they had gone through every row twice, they finally arrived at your seats. “Look at this! I’m not even mad they canceled Quidditch this year!” Fred yelled over the crowd. You gave him a look, feeling the opposite about the situation.

“Well, I am.” You replied, still irritated that your sport had been put on hold for the year. Fred stopped beside you, letting George move to your other side.

“You’re always mad, Y/n.” George added, leaning over the wood barrier in front of you. Down below on the stadium floor were sharp jagged rocks, crowding the arena. On one end was a large golden egg, sitting just in front of a huge opening where each dragon would enter.

The objective of the task was to capture the egg, which was protected by the dragon. You imagined the type of dragon would be paired to each champion at random. But some would have a harder time than others, given that the horntail for example is much more aggressive than the welsh green and will guard his egg much more fiercely.

Suddenly the canon went off, sending the crowd roaring with more applause. The first competitor was Cedric, who took on the Swedish short snout. He collected his egg and made it out unscathed. Cedric was followed by Viktor Krum with the Chinese fireball and Fleur with the Welsh green.

“Harry has the horntail.” You said, barely audible over the yelling. “That seems hardly fair considering he’s only fourteen!”

“I don’t think they chose it for Harry on purpose.” Fred replied, clearly not as concerned as you were. You sighed and leaned down on the barrier.

Harry was introduced and then entered the stadium and reluctantly, taking in the sight. Everyone cheered when he entered, except for Hermione below you who looked far more worried.

The crowd went still in anticipation. The stadium below you suddenly looked abandoned, showing absolutely no sign of the dragon. You watched Harry make up his mind and make a start toward the egg, only to be stopped immediately by a huge tail swinging and hitting the rock just above his head. The crowd gasped as Harry rolled to the side, barely avoiding it.

The dragon, which you had seen calm only a few nights ago, now climbed the rocks with a huge growl and turned back to Harry. You gripped the wood tightly, Fred taking your hand off it to keep you from getting splintered.

The creature spotted the boy and sent fire in his direction, once again barely missing Harry. He made a run for the egg, followed closely by his opponent. The dragon gave Harry several more blows, swinging its tail and sending him flying. The crowd gasped and you grabbed Fred’s sleeve, clasping a hand over your mouth. It was a miracle he wasn’t just impaled.

Harry ducked behind a rock, just in time to avoid being burned. “Your wand, Harry!” Hermione yelled. “Your wand!” As if he heard her, he lifted his want, shouting a spell you couldn’t hear over the noise.

A few seconds later, a broom came speeding overhead, heading in Harry’s direction. He managed to jump onto it before more of the dragon’s fire reached him. Everyone applauded, Hermione probably the loudest.

Harry flew toward the egg, reaching down and just missing it. “Ooh” came from the crowd as he rose again to turn around, followed by the dragon. Everyone paused, hearing the crunch of metal breaking and seeing the chain falling to the ground, removing the only thing keeping the creature in the stadium.

The pattern in the audience continued with gasps this time as the dragon was freed from the area, forcing Harry to fly out and away from it. They left destruction in their path, nearly taking out the professors.

“Yes!” George cheered.

“Well done, dragon!” Fred followed. Harry and the dragon quickly ducked out of sight, leaving everyone else to wait for their return. It was several minutes before this happened.

Harry appeared over the rocks, his broom sturggling to take him back to the stadium. He ducked down and this time succeeded in taking ahold of the egg, which immediately sent the crowd into shouts and cheers.

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Everyone met Harry on the walk back, taking turns clapping him on the back. Hermione, who had zero faith in his survival, jumped into his arms. “Well done, Harry!” You congratulated. The boy was still out of breath and covered in dirt and a little blood.

Ron grabbed his shoulders, taking the egg out of his hands and examining it. “Well, how are we going to celebrate?”

“We’ll take care of that, mate.” Fred chimed in, slapping his brother on the back. You could already see a plan forming in the twins’ head. And take care of it, they did.

It was late at night when you finally made it back to the common room, which you entered with Hermione. You were quickly hit with loud music, traveling effortlessly through your ears. The sound made your heart seem to hop right out of your chest, and the sight of the Gryffindors crowded in the common room increased that feeling. It was a miracle McGonagall hadn’t found out about this yet.

“Oh god, what did they do?” Hermione muttered as you stepped into the room. You two were exact opposites in your reaction.

Right through the door, you were grabbed by Fred, who placed a hand carefully on both of your arms. “I was wondering when you would get here, darling.” He told you. Hermione gave you a smirk as he dragged you away, leading you through the sea of Gryffindors.

“Are you drunk, Freddie?” You asked him, knowing full well he acted similar drunk as he did normally, but he wasn’t drunk very often.

“Not yet, love.” He told you with a smile and a wink. You shook your head at him, able to tell by his voice he was sober. “Dance with me, will you?” You obliged, letting him move you with the music. The beat pounded in your ears, syncing with your heart and thumping in your chest.

How they managed to bring in firewhisky was beyond you, but it only took a few drinks to bring you much closer to Fred. You were far from drunk but definitely tipsy. And you could say the same for him. The room around you faded as you pulled him closer to you, his face only inches away. His green eyes were fixed on yours making your heart double its pace. “You’re beautiful,” He said suddenly. His expression was soft and his eyes admiring you.

“What?” You whispered, your hands lifting to his neck. Fred had complimented you before but it sounded like he meant it differently this time. He leaned closer to you, his lips brushing yours delicately. It sent a shock through your body and in that moment all you wanted was to close the space. You could have kissed him, but there were too many drinks involved.

“Fred,” you mumbled, ghosting his lips with his name.

“Hm?”

“We’re drunk.” You told him. Neither of you were really drunk but you were still worried he— you too for that matter— was acting off of the firewhisky. He responded by pulling his face back from yours, respecting your decision without a second question.

“If we’re going to kiss, we’re going to do it sober.” You decided, making him chuckle. The sound made you long for him even more and you were sure if he asked to kiss you, you would let him. But of course, being Fred Weasley, he wasn’t going to ask you again after you told him no.

“I’m going to hold you to that.” He said, gently pressing a long kiss to your forehead. You were grateful he was still holding you because you could’ve melted right there if he wasn’t.

George made his way over, grabbing onto his brother. “Come on, Freddie!” He said and you could immediately tell he was much farther gone. “Sing a song for your girlfriend!” You didn’t even notice what he said since he started to drag Fred away. It was colder now without his warm body beside you.

Fred didn’t need any drinks to oblige in his brother’s request. The music changed and suddenly Fred was on the common room table, singing— more like shouting— the words to you, using his wand as a microphone.

You giggled at the sight, utterly taken by the boy, who blew you an exaggerated kiss. George, Charlie, and everyone else were right this whole time, you were absolutely in love with Fred Weasley.

─────────────────────────Click here for part 4!

[writingonwings]

She calls me Freddie (Pt. 2)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Warnings: None really, fluff and a little banter, implications that your normal hair color isn’t red (sorry to my beautiful redheads)

Summary: The Tri-wizard tournament is announced and entering doesn’t go to plan

Word count: 4.9k

(Part 2 - Find all other parts here!)

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The next week turned out to be pretty uneventful for you. After you all recovered from what happened at the game you started to use quidditch as your pastime. You, Harry, Ron, the twins, Ginny, and even Hermione practiced behind the burrow. Ginny had begun to take an interest in being a chaser so you showed her just about everything you know, having been one for the Gryffindor team for most of your years at Hogwarts. You played most days leading up to school and on the following Thursday you all traveled to the station in London.

“Did he find a compartment?” You asked George, who you were following through the train. Your luggage was already loaded, leaving you to carry your wand and one of your smaller bags.

“Fred said he found an empty one up here,” He started, peering into each compartment as he passed, looking for his brother. The boy stopped abruptly once he spotted him, which made you trip over his feet. “Aha.” He let out casually, as if he didn’t just have to save you from face-planting.

“Finally. I didn’t know how much longer I could fight off these kids.” Fred complained as you stepped into the little room. He sat by the window with Ginny across from him, who rolled her eyes at her brother.

“It was one first year. And the kid looked terrified.” Ginny told you and George while you hoisted your bag onto the rack above the seats. You gave Fred a look.

“Fred, you did not chase away a first year!”

“Oh no, he didn’t.” Ginny defended him. “He actually offered for him to sit with us but the poor kid ran off.”

George broke into laughter and Fred sighed, crossing his arms. You sat down beside him, fitting yourself into the space between him and the window. It was small enough that he had to scoot over so you wouldn’t be in his lap, which he did so without question.

You patted his knee to comfort him. “We can’t all be good with kids, babe.” You told him casually. The other two Weasleys glanced at you when you said this, but neither you nor Fred treated it any differently so they dropped it.

“It was probably just the kid’s first day and he didn’t want to sit with a sixth year he didn’t know.” George stated, sitting down once he put his couple of bags up. Fred just shook his head and moved on.

The rest of the train ride went by quickly, spent with carefree talk and conversations about nothing important. Soon the clear skies of the morning began to turn grey and by the time you arrived at Hogwarts, the clouds were much darker and threatened to drop rain on the school.

Still dry for now, you entered the courtyard in awe of the castle as always. It was now your sixth year here and you were still taken by the school. Raindrops finally began to fall, so you stepped under the covered walkway.

Fred tugged your sleeve to get your attention and when you looked up at him, his eyes were looking out onto the lake. “What is it?” You asked him, stepping toward the stone opening to see better. Out on the water, a huge ship sprouted up from the lake, water draining from it as it lifted above the surface.

“I’ve never seen that before.” You admitted. Ginny hurried beside you to get a look as well, but gasps from the other students drew you to the opposite side of the walkway. There you caught sight of a huge carriage coming in from above, drawn by several winged horses.

“Who do you suppose they are?” Ginny asked as they landed, guided in by Hagrid. They ducked just out of view as they touched the ground.

“I imagine we won’t have to wait long find out.” You said, turning from the spot where they disappeared to see the students flowing into the castle. Everyone filed into the great hall to find a seat. You sat down beside Angelina Johnson, who gave you a huge smile upon seeing you.

“Angie!” You exclaimed, giving her a tight hug. Fred sat down beside you and George across. He gave Angelina an almost timid smile.

“Hey, Angelina.” George greeted. You’d rarely seen George look so nervous. Angelina, of course, gave her smile out to him and asked about his summer, which got them talking less awkwardly. You and Fred exchanged a look, sharing the exact same thought.

The room filled with laughing and cheering as friends were reunited for the year, Gryffindor being the loudest as usual. By the time Dumbledore stepped up to his podium, your stomach ached from laughter. It took his loud voice to silence the hall and once the noise had subsided, he started his beginning of the year speech.

“Now that we’re all settled and sorted, I’d like to make an announcement.” He addressed the students. Fred twirled a piece of your hair to distract you and earned an elbow to the arm, which didn’t stop him. “This castle will not only be your home this year but home to some very special guests as well. You see, Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event. The Tri-wizard tournament.”

You had heard of it before but you hadn’t been to Hogwarts long enough to see one take place. And certainly not to see one take place here.

“Now for those of you who do not know, The Tri-wizard tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. For each school a single student is selected to compete.” Dumbledore continued to explain. This had everyone paying attention, as most of your group especially was interested. You leaned an arm onto the table.

“But let me be clear.” The professor paused briefly to scan the room. “If chosen, you stand alone. And trust me when I say these contests are not for the faint-hearted.” He said ominously and then suddenly flipped a switch and took on a light-hearted expression.

“But more of that later,” he continued. “For now please welcome the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons school of magic!” On cue the doors opened on the opposite side of the hall, having everyone’s head suddenly turn in that direction.

In came a group of girls mostly a little older than you, all in matching blue uniforms with their hair tied neatly behind their backs. They strode through the room elegantly catching nearly every eye, especially from the boys. “Bloody hell.” Ron said. Hermione rolled her eyes.

Behind the girls came an extremely tall woman, probably even taller than Hagrid. “Blimey, that’s one big woman.” Seamus Finnigan said, a few seats down from you. Dumbledore had to reach up to take her arm, guiding her to her seat. The entire hall whistled and applauded except for Hermione, who was mad at Ron, and Ginny, who didn’t care. Dumbledore cut them off.

“Now our friends from the North.” He continued. “Please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang and their headmaster Igor Karkaroff.” In came a group of men also around a year older. They were all tall and handsome. Their entrance turned the table and now Ron was huffing at Hermione.

After the students, the headmaster entered with a tall boy at his side. It was Viktor Krum, the quidditch player from the World Cup.

“Blimey it’s him,” Ron said, startled. “It’s Viktor Krum.” He walked through the hall staring at the other hand, not bothering to greet anyone. You weren’t impressed by him. Dumbledore greeted their headmaster warmly, bringing him into a welcoming embrace.

Once everyone was seated and settled, the feast began. Each table was filled with every food imaginable and everyone was happy with what they ate. After the majority of the room was finished, four men entered the hall, rolling with them a large pillar decorated with gold and jewels. It was parked at the end of the room, right in front of the professor’s table.

Dumbledore stood again, making his way over to the pillar. “I’d like to say a few words.” He announced, quieting the room again. “Eternal glory. That is what awaits the student who wins the Tri-wizard tournament. But to do this, that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks.”

“Wicked.” You heard the twins say in unison. Fred nudged you with his elbow, bringing a little smirk to your face.

“For this reason, the ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule.” The professor continued. “To explain all this, we have the head of the department of international magical cooperations, Mr. Bartemius Crouch.”

The man stood, making his way over to the podium. But he and everyone else were interrupted by the sudden sound of thunder clapping in the hall, rain and lightning following swiftly. Students shrieked, ducking for cover from the sudden chaos. From one of the side doors, a tall man stepped into the room and pointed his wand toward the ceiling, fixing the mess.

After the rain had gone everyone sat up again, looking around in confusion. The man that had entered was tall and widely built. He had a limp in his stride as he walked. “Hey that’s Mad-eye Moody,” Ron announced.

“Alastor Moody? The Auror?” Hermione inquired. Ron leaned down and whispered something to Harry, which was low enough that you couldn’t hear.

“My dear old friend, thanks for coming.” Dumbledore welcomed him, shaking his hand.

“Stupid ceiling.” Moody replied gruffly. Dumbledore nodded and gestured to a seat at the professor’s table, sending him in that direction. After the room had settled again, Barty Crouch finally made it to the front, standing in front of the gold pillar.

He paused, hesitating briefly before speaking as if it was something difficult for him to say. It was definitely something difficult for you to hear. “After due consideration, the ministry has concluded that for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen should be allowed to put forth their name for the Tri-wizard tournament. This decision is final.” Your face dropped in disappointment and the students erupted into shouts of protest, the twins being the loudest.

“That’s rubbish!” They shouted. The hall fell into chaos once more until Dumbledore saved it again.

“Silence!” He yelled, immediately quieting the school. The professor stepped forward toward the pillar. His hand glided over it, causing it to melt away in front of you. The outer shell of gold gave way to a large stone goblet, a blue flame igniting in the cup.

“The goblet of fire.” He explained. “Anyone wishing to submit themselves to the tournament need only write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night. Do not do so lightly. If chosen, there’s no turning back. As of this moment, the Tri-wizard tournament has begun.”

You glanced at Fred and George, who held an excited expression as if they weren’t just told they couldn’t enter. If you knew them, which you did, they would likely come up with an absurd plan to try and enter anyway. You would just have to wait until they brought it to you.

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A few days later, you were absolutely correct in your suspicions. You were in the library, picking up a few books when the twins approached you. “Y/n,” Fred said in a singsongy voice, sliding next to you. George came on your other side.

“What is it, boys?” You asked, setting your books down on the table and turning to lean back onto it. They both looked at each other as if trying to decide who should answer. “Well, spit it out.”

“We have a plan to enter the tournament.” George started, you gave a loud sigh. “And before you say anything, we’ve thought it through completely. It’s going to work.”

“You did, did you?” You responded sarcastically, glancing down at the books you were carrying.

“We did,” Fred returned, ignoring your remark. “But, it requires you.” He held up a finger and pointed to you. You chuckled, crossing your arms.

“Uh-huh. And what does this plan require me to do?” You asked with a tiny smirk.

“We need you to brew an aging potion,” Fred explained, setting a hand down on the table to lean closer to you. “You’re much better at potions than us and we have to make sure it’s going to work correctly.”

You sighed. “It’s not.”

“What, why not?” George asked. “We could probably manage it so you definitely can.”

“Oh no, not the potion. That will work exactly how I make it to. But your plan won’t work.”

“And why is that, Y/n?” Fred asked, the look on his face put a longing feeling in your body.

“You really think that the ministry— Dumbledore for that matter would be thick enough to not think of an aging potion?”

“That’s what we’re counting on.” George stated, making you sigh even louder.

“Ok, let’s say hypothetically this does work.” You said, sitting on the table. “Have you considered at all that competing in the tournament might not be the best idea?”

“Nope,” they said together.

“But we’re not worried about it.” Fred added. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oh I don’t know, you could die?” You told them, setting a hand on the side of their heads. “And unfortunately I would miss you both dearly if you died.” You finished in an exaggerated pouty voice.

“When did you get all responsible?” George asked, “You were just as excited as we were to enter.”

“That was before I read about the tasks from the last tournaments.” You stated. “And I don’t want to risk losing my favorite twins.”

“Well. That’s very sweet and all but we still need you to make that potion.” Fred told you.

You sighed once more to get your point across. “Fine.” They immediately grinned and gave each other a high five. “But when this blows up in your face, it’s not my fault.”

“You’re the best, love.” Fred spoke, giving you a sudden kiss on the cheek before taking off with his brother through the bookshelves, leaving you sitting there frozen. You watched them round the corner, your fingertips brushing your cheek. God, Fred Weasley was going to be the death of you.

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You met them with their potion outside the great hall the next day. “Here,” You handed them two little viles. “This is your last chance to stop and save yourselves the embarrassment.”

“Yeah not a chance, babe.” Fred said, taking them from you and handing one to George.

“Alright, fine.” You said, throwing your hands up in defeat. “Just remember, this is your own doing.”

“We’ll try,” George told you. The twins ran into the hall cheering, you following a little ways behind. There was a little crowd gathered around the goblet of fire and they all applauded as Fred and George made their entrance.

“Well lads, we’ve done it!” Fred announced, jumping up onto the wood bleachers and holding up his potion.

“Y/n cooked it up just this morning.” George explained further, following his brother. Hermione, who sat a few feet away, turned her head from her book and laughed.

“It’s not going to work.” She sang in a mocking voice. The twins sat down on either side of her.

“Oh yeah?” Fred started.

“And why is that, Granger?” George finished. Hermione pointed out a hazy white line around the cup.

“See this?” She told them. “This is an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself.”

“So?”

“So,” Hermione slammed her book shut as if it was outrageous that they didn’t seem concerned. “A genius like Dumbledore couldn’t possibly be fooled by something as pathetically dim-witted as an aging potion.”

“Ah but that’s why it’s so brilliant.” Fred stated.

“Because it’s so pathetically dim-witted.” His brother finished for him. The twins stood again while Hermione rolled her eyes. You took their spot, sitting down next to her.

“Ready Fred?”

“Ready George,” They both popped their viles open.

“Bottoms up.” They said together and drank the contents. Once the potion was consumed, they jumped into the circle beyond the age line.

“Why did you make them that?” Hermione asked, awaiting being able to say she was right. You sighed.

“I tried to tell them it wouldn’t work.” You replied, chuckling. “But you know them. They have to learn the hard way.” And they did. Fred and George tossed their names into the fire, pausing to see what would happen. Nothing did at first so they cheered. Fred shot you a smug look which made you shake your head.

Their success was quickly shot down by the fire spitting their names back out, shooting little flames around the room. The crowd ducked out of the way and the twins were send backward and onto the stone floor. You stood to get a better look over the students but all you could see were grey hair and beards sprouting from their heads.

You broke into laughter as they started fighting, cursing at each other. You were absolutely going to give them an earful after they recovered.

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It took them a couple of hours before they were back to normal and they still had some grey strands of hair left in amongst the red. Now they sat in the common room, grumbling as you finished combing out the hairs that didn’t belong. “Stop complaining, I’m almost done.” You scolded George, who huffed. Fred was already finished and sat beside you on, propping his feet up on the table and leaning his head back on the back of the couch.

“Maybe next time you’ll listen to me.” You suggested as you finished, tossing the comb to the side and shoving George away from you. “I could’ve given you a much better plan.”

“Oh please, yours are about as good as ours.” He responded, sinking onto the other end of the couch.

“At least my plans actually work.” You stated. “And my pranks, and that does make them more successful than yours.”

“Pranks are supposed to be funny, Y/n, not practical.” George told you. “I don’t think you’ve ever made a prank better than ours.”

“Oh really?” You said, standing and crossing your arms. “I could prank better than you two any day.” This made Fred pick his head up.

“Is that a challenge, Y/l/n?” He asked, standing up to meet you. The boy immediately towered over you. You should’ve picked your next words wisely and not ended up in a prank war with the Weasley twins, but of course you didn’t.

“Sounds like it, Weasley.” You told him confidently, stepping closer to him. He laughed.

“Ok fine, we’ll see who’s better.” He said, giving you a smirk that almost shook your composure. You tilted your head slightly.

“I guess we will.” You told him, turning and stalking toward the stairs to the dorms. “Good night, boys.” His eyes and his smirk followed you until you were out of sight. And once you were, you realized how badly you screwed up. You were definitely the smartest of the three but you couldn’t come up with something nearly as fast. And now you were on the clock. It wouldn’t surprise you if they had a plan in the next hour so thinking something up soon wasn’t optional.

You walked into the great hall for dinner that night without them, but they had beaten you there. Fred made eye contact with you, wearing a smirk. His brother sat beside him. They definitely already had a plan and you were definitely done for. Regardless, you sat down next to Fred.

“Fred, George.” You greeted coolly. Fred managed to surpress a chuckle. Instead, he copied your demeanor.

“Y/n,” he responded, returning to his meal. You ate quietly beside him, holding yourself together while listening to the twins try not to laugh the entire dinner.

“What’s up with them?” Ron asked Harry, who shrugged in response. The entire section of the table picked up on the change in interaction between you. Especially since you and Fred normally behaved like a married couple. After eating, you silently stood and left the great hall with Ginny. Fred gave you a stupid look in an attempt to break your seriousness. It only managed to bring a toothless smile to your lips, which you hid away quickly.

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The next morning arrived and you still didn’t have a plan. It was likely already too late for you but you were too stubborn to just give up. You slid out of your bed yawning, but before you could stand all the way you were met with Angelina’s shocked expression.

“What?” You asked her nervously.

“I… would just go look in the mirror.” She told you. Hermione came walking out of the bathroom, dropping her things once she saw you.

“God, please tell me it’s not that bad.” You said, panicking. You stood and ran past Hermione into the bathroom, gasping as you saw your reflection. Your hair was as bright a shade of red as the twins’ were. You clasped a hand over your mouth in surprise.

“What happened?” Angelina asked, sliding into the bathroom behind you.

“The twins is what happened!” You exclaimed. The noise had finally woken Ginny.

“It’s really not that bad, Y/n. It’s just a bit of a shock at first.” Hermione assured. It wasn’t the worst thing you’d ever seen but that didn’t make you any less irritated.

“Hermione, look what they did to my hair!” You said, groaning.

“Hey,” Ginny said sleepily, rubbing her eyes. She started a yawn but it stopped dead in her throat when she saw you.

“I’m going to kill your brothers, Gin.” You said, trying your best to make your hair look decent.

“Please do, I have plenty more where they came from.” She responded, turning and leaving the bathroom. Once you looked okay to your standards you followed.

You stormed out of the dorm and down into the common room. Fred and George were at the chairs and turned their heads as they heard you enter. “You two!” You pointed at them. They stood immediately, stifling their laughter.

“You shouldn’t have challenged us.” George told you and shrugged, which made you scowl at him. You crossed your arms, absolutely fuming.

“Aww you’re so cute when you’re mad.” Fred stated, pulling your glare to him.

“You think I’m cute? We’ll get ready because I’m about to be gorgeous!” You snapped, beyond pissed off.

“Don’t worry, Y/n.” Fred spoke in an attempt to calm you. “It should wear off in the next hour.”

“It better.” You pointed a finger at him.

An hour turned into the morning and the morning turned into the whole day. By the next morning, your hair was still the same shade of red. When you found the twins in the common room again, they looked surprised and much more panicked.

“An hour, huh?” You asked them, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. Fred approached you, rubbing the back of his neck nervously with his hand.

“It really was supposed to be just an hour, love.” He told you. There was a guilt in his voice that made you soften.

“Who knows? It could take weeks to wear off at this point.” George stated, not getting up from his seat on the couch.

“Weeks?” You repeated back to him, dropping your head into your hands with a groan. “This is going to be the color of my hair for weeks?”

“Sorry Y/n, I have no idea what went wrong.” He apologized. “But I’ll figure out something to fix it.”

You sighed. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Fred never mentioned it to you, but he did do his research. He even ventured into muggle hair dye, which seemed like his best option. The hard part was matching your hair color, so he took a small picture he had of you and picked out the closest shade to yours.

That evening you had finished dinner early and beat everyone back to the common room. Now you were sitting in your dorm, having just changed out of your robes. You were just about ready to return to the common room when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in,” You said simply. Fred came in, carrying a couple of small boxes. “Oh hey,”

“I have a solution,” he announced, handing you the boxes. Inside contained y/h/c hair dye. “It’s only temporary. I figure we could use this until your hair goes back to normal.”

Your eyes softened at the gesture and you looked up at him. “Thank you, Freddie. That’s really thoughtful.”

“It’s the least I could do for turning you into a Weasley.” He said with a little chuckle, taking you into the bathroom.

Fred leaned on the small counter and read the instructions. “Ok, get your hair wet.” He said without looking up from the papers in his hand. God he looked attractive standing there, his long body supported by the counter and his brows creased just barely while he read.

You did as he said, wetting your fiery hair and returning to him, trying to keep it from dripping. He took a little towel and draped it over your shoulders, then positioned you so that you stood in front of him.

He poured the paste into your hair and you sighed as he massaged it in, making sure to get your entire head. “Enjoying this, darling?” He teased, getting an elbow to the torso from you. He laughed and continued to work the dye into your hair.

“You know, it’s only fair if I get to dye your hair too.” You informed him, causing him to pause for a moment.

“Y/n, I wouldn’t look good in any other hair color.” He replied, tying your hair up messily behind your head to let the dye soak in.

“Neither do I, but I didn’t get the choice.” You returned, turning around to face him. He looked at you for a second, considering his options.

“Fine,” He sighed. You smiled, trading spots with him and hoisting yourself onto the counter to reach his head better. “But for the record, you can pull off any color so that’s not a fair comparison.” He argued.

“Ok, Fred. I get it, you have a crush.” You teased him, working the dye into his long, soft hair. You almost detected him falter before returning to his normal composure.

“Oh, you mock me, Y/n.” He said, putting a hand to his chest in exaggerated offense. You both sat in the little bathroom with your now h/c hair tied up and soaking. Once the dye sat for long enough, you rinsed and dried both of your heads and then stood in front of the mirror to study your work. You looked completely back to normal but Fred looked entirely different.

“I actually think I make this work.” He said, turning his head to observe the new color.

“I agree.” You gave him a bright smile, relieved to have your regular hair back.

“It is going to come out though, right?”

“Yes because I, unlike you double-checked.” You stated. “It’ll come out in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s comforting.” He sighed.

“It should be. Because if I said it then it’s true.” You smirked, tilting your head up to him. “And now you have to admit that my pranks are better.”

“Y/n, you didn’t even do anything.” He laughed, looking down at you. His face looked different now that it was framed with h/c hair.

“I didn’t have to,” You explained. “Just letting you fail was proof enough.”

“Fine. Our plans work much better when you’re apart of them.” He got out slowly as if it was difficult to say.

“That’s not what I asked, Freddie.”

“Well that’s all you’re going to get, so you’re just going to have to be content with it.” Fred crossed his arms, not even phased when you gave him a smack on the arm. All jokes aside, he genuinely did prefer when you were there to participate in their schemes and keep them in check. He could admit you were really the only brain in the operation.

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Click here for part 3!

[writingonwings]

She Calls me Freddie (Pt. 1)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, angst, topics of pain and injuries (mostly burns)

Summary: The twins managed to buy another ticket to the world cup for you but after the Death eater attack, your trip was cut short

Word Count: 5k

Author’s Note: This series was originally from years ago and i’m so so excited to finally write and put it out. it’s so special to me and I hope you enjoy it! Welcome to part one of many <3

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You were woken up that morning by Ginny shaking you. “Y/n.” She repeated your name a few times before she got a response. You groaned and rolled over onto your other side.

“We let you sleep as long as we could,” Hermione told you. You opened your eyes to see her sitting in front of Ginny’s mirror, doing her hair for the day. “But you won’t have any time to get ready if you don’t get up now.”

“And you will be left behind.” Ginny added with a laugh, taking her pillow and throwing it at you.

“Fine,” You said groggily, throwing the pillow back at her which unfortunately she caught. You sat up and stood quickly to avoid being tempted into lying back down again. If there was one thing you weren’t, it was a morning person. And that particular morning was the morning of the Quidditch world cup, which meant a long walk before the sun was even up.

Satisfied, Ginny returned to her mirror, standing behind Hermione to use the space above her. You walked over to your trunk, digging through it to find an outfit. Unlike the other two, you hadn’t had one planned the night before. You ended up pulling out a sweater and a pair of jeans.

“Are the boys up yet?” You asked as you got dressed, sleep still masking your voice even though you were starting to wake up. Ginny shook her head.

“We haven’t checked yet but I doubt it.” She replied, not bothering to pull her attention away from what she was doing. “I don’t think they’ll get up until they’re forced.” It didn’t take long for the three of you to be ready and leave your room. You split up to go wake the others, Ginny and Hermione heading to Ron’s room and you to the twins’.

You climbed a couple flights of stairs and strode down the hall to Fred and George’s room, giving a swift knock to the door. “Boys!” You called, waiting for a response. After a second knock and nothing, you sighed and opened the door. Both the twins were sound asleep, Fred covered with at least three blankets and George snoring.

“Fred, George, do you realize what time it is?” You asked and with a quick swish of your wand, the lamps in the room were lit. The sun was only just starting to rise, therefore it was still dark in the house.

George responded by covering his eyes, even though the lamps weren’t all that bright. “God, y/n.” he complained. Fred on the other hand was too buried in his blankets to notice.

You sighed and walked over to his bed, removing the first layer of blanket. “Fred, get up.” You told him, hearing only him mumble something inaudible as a response.

“Hm?” You responded. The boy grabbed onto your arms in an attempt to pull you down with him. He failed however, giving up since he was still half asleep. You were able to plant your feet and get out of his grasp. “Poor choice of timing to try and get me in your bed.” You huffed, pulling off the last blanket which got him up quickly. “If I have to be up right now, so do you.”

“Good morning to you too.” Fred yawned, resting his head in his hands.

Once they were both sitting up and looked like they weren’t about to fall back to sleep, you walked out their door, turning back around before closing it. “After breakfast, we’re leaving. And nobody is safe from being left behind.” You announced to them what Ginny had said with a hint of teasing in your voice, hoping it would be enough incentive to keep them awake.

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Downstairs you greeted Molly, who was still working on breakfast. Since you were the first one down, you helped her finish. “Oh thank you, dear!” She said, giving you a warm smile.

Ginny and Hermione were next to come down, followed by Arthur, Harry, and Ron. It was only after you were all seated that the twins came down too. George was first and looked like he was still asleep. “Glad you decided to join us after all.” You said as he sat down across from you.

“Don’t you start, y/n” he groaned, leaning his head back in his chair.

When Fred came down he was wide awake, his long legs taking him out of the stairs and into the kitchen. He ruffled your hair and sat down beside you, close enough that you could smell the faintest scent of gunpowder off of him.

“So last night we were working on these fireworks.” He started to explain, confirming the smell. “We’ll have to show you.”

“Ohhh, is that why you wouldn’t get up?” You inquired with a smile. He rolled his eyes playfully.

“Oh please, like Hermione and Ginny didn’t have a hard time waking you.” He returned. As you talked, you pointed briefly to his food, reminding him to start eating it before he got too distracted by talking. “Once you’re asleep— thanks— nothing can get you up without someone ending up injured.”

“No, that’s only when you wake me up.” You corrected. “And George.” The both of you glanced in his direction, only to see him sound asleep in his chair. Ron beside him slapped his arm, waking him up with a jolt. He sighed and sat back up, returning to his breakfast.

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You left most of your belongings at home, bringing only what you needed for the game that night. The world cup was one of, if not the most important quidditch event in the world. You watch it remotely every year, but this year the twins surprised you with a ticket.

To get there you all would travel by portkey, but it was a hike to get to it. Now on that hike, you found yourself following Arthur Weasley on a wide trail through the woods. He was in an extremely good mood. Everyone was today. Even those who weren’t a fan of quidditch were excited for the event today.

“We’ll be meeting Amos Diggory.” Arthur announced. “And his son, Cedric, which you boys have met.” He gestured to Fred and George. You had met him once a few years ago as well, but you were in a different house and you didn’t get the chance to interact much.

The group reached a large tree where the two waited. “Arthur!” Amos greeted him, he carried a large pack and hiking stick. “It’s about time, son!” Cedric walked up beside him, sporting a smile. He was rather handsome, with friendly eyes and brown curls atop his head. You noticed that he glanced at you first.

“Sorry Amos! Some of us had a bit of a sleepy start.” He replied, turning to look back at his son’s. On cue, Ron let out a yawn.

“You’ve met my boys,” Arthur started and then introduced the rest of you.” This is my daughter Ginny and here is Harry, Hermione and y/n. This is Amos Diggory, everyone. He works with me at the ministry.” The man lifted his head in a friendly way. Arthur then turned to Cedric.

“And this strapping young man must be Credric, am I right?” He asked, shaking the boys hand.

“Yes, sir.” Was his response, that smile glued to his face. After introductions were finished, the group proceeded again down the trail. But Cedric stayed back to greet you.

“Y/n.” Cedric spoke in a charming tone, giving a polite kiss to the back of your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”

“You as well, Cedric.” You responded with a chuckle, wearing kind expression on your face. He mimicked it and walked back up to the front of the group. Hermione beside you nudged you with her elbow and gave you a smirk. Behind you, Fred and George exchanged a look, subtle enough to go unnoticed by you. But you hear one of them huff.

“I think he fancies you,” Ginny whispered in a playful voice, leaning in close to be unheard by the rest.

“Oh no, Gin. Y/n only has eyes for your brother.” Hermione added quickly, immediately receiving a glare from you. Laughter erupted from the two girls.

“Shush, both of you!” You told her, glancing back to see if anyone heard. The twins looked occupied with whatever they were talking about. “And I don’t like Fred any more than usual.” Which would normally be true. But there was a different dynamic between you recently. Nothing about your friendship had changed but you had certainly grown closer recently. But the topic wasn’t something you wanted to dive into at that moment, on your hike to the portkey.

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After around an hour more of walking, you came out into a huge field of yellowish-green grass. You had felt the uphill climb for a while now and that was confirmed upon seeing a cliff that dropped downward a little ways off. Beyond it lay the sea, its blue surface darker with the overcast weather that morning. As you worked your way closer, you could taste the air develop a hint of salt and feel the wind pick up.

“It’s just up here!” Arthur called, pointing up the hill where an old leather boot sat. It stood up among the grass as if it was planted there, which it likely had been. As your neared it you were instructed to spread out so that everyone had a spot around it.

“Why are we all gathered around that manky old boot?” Harry asked. You imagined he’d never seen a portkey before before, given that he was raised outside the wizarding community.

“That’s not just any manky old boot, mate.” Fred started, settling into a spot next to you.

“It’s a portkey.” George finished, readjusting the bag he carried over his shoulder. Harry followed to find a spot around the boot.

“Time to go!” Amos announced and began counting. “Three..” you shared a look with Fred, placing your hand on the boot with everyone else. You knew what a portkey was, but you’d never actually traveled by one before “Two..”

“Harry!” Arthur called. The boy didn’t have a hold on the boot. He quickly grabbed it before Amos finished counting.

“One!” As he spoke the portkey lifted off the ground, taking us with it. It began to spin, fast enough that you closed your eyes to avoid dizziness. The spinning lasted somewhere around thirty seconds and once it stopped, you were dropped onto the ground. You groaned at the impact, opening your eyes to see the portkey had gone but the rest of the group was down around you. Arthur, Amos, and Cedric, however, had landed gracefully and now walked past you. Arthur beckoned you to follow.

“Come on, this way!” He called. You sat up, rubbing the back of your head. It had a dull ache, but it faded quickly.

“Plan on sleeping here?” Fred asked, making his way to you and offering his hand.

“Oh shove off, Freddie.” you replied, taking it. He pulled you to your feet easily and walked with you to the rest of the group. You climbed up a slope and when you reached the top, the game grounds came into view.

“Bloody hell.” Ron got out, taken by the sight. There were rows and rows of tents in the outer edge, all with different festive decorations. As you moved inward there were tents selling everything from flags to fireworks, which there were no shortage of.

As you walked through the tents, a few were set off right next to you. They stretch up and burst into colorful sparks, raining back down and forming different shapes and figures.

“Those are brilliant!” George exclaimed, lifting his head to watch as we walked. Smiled and laughter filled the group as you made your way through the maze of festivities. That’s when you parted from the Diggorys.

“See you later, Cedric,” George called out to him as Arthur led the rest in the opposite direction, eventually bringing you to a small tent.

“Don’t worry, it’s much bigger on the inside.” You elbowed Harry playfully after seeing his puzzled expression. You ducked into the tent, which opened into a huge space with multiple different rooms off the main.

“Ok, Girls on the left and boys on the right!” Arthur called out. On your side, there were three beds where each of you dropped your bags. You took out a small paint bag out and brought it into the main room.

“I have face paints for us,” You started, pulling the colors out and setting them on the table. “But I imagine we’ll want some other stuff too. Like hats and flags.”

“We can go get some then,” Fred suggested, stepping down into the room. “They have all the tents just a few down from us.”

“Yeah, let’s go now before it gets too busy.” You responded, abandoning the table and standing to head for the tent’s exit. George came into the room, crossing his arms.

“Be back in time to paint my face, y/n!” George yelled as you left the tent, followed quickly by Fred. You two navigated the area, starting to make your way to the shops. There was a tent for everything you could think of.

“Fred, let’s get a firework!” You exclaimed, taking his arm and bringing him to a vendor. Little sparks fluttered around his tent in all different colors and shapes. “Which is a good one?”

Fred looked about the explosives, eventually landing on a large circular one, with a long stick out the bottom. “This one.” He handed the man a galleon, taking the firework in one hand and your hand in the other.

“Careful where you light that thing!” The vendor called as you were led through the crowd and into a small clearing.

“This looks like barely enough room.” You told him, helping him set the rocket into the ground.

“As long as it’s pointed up,” He started, positioning it correctly. He held a hand out for your wand, which you offered to him. “It won’t bother anyone down here.”

He flicked your wand to summon a spark, which started to move up the little wick toward the firework. As soon as it was lit, Fred stood and pulled you back with him. It went off with a whistle, reaching a little ways above the tents before bursting into a huge explosion. Sparks danced above you before raining back down and eventually fading into nothing. Fred cheered and gave you a high five.

“Now that’s a firework.” He said with both hands still on your shoulders, flashing you a smile. It warmed your chest and gave you an almost giddy feeling.

Fred slipping your wand back into your pocket for you and then you were off again. You went down the aisle of tents, stopping here and there to pick up things like flags, hats, and scarves. You even stopped briefly at a jewelry tent after it had caught your eye.

“Oh, I love this one.” You said pointing to a woven bracelet containing small stone beads.

“Really? You’ve never been much of a jewelry person.” He responded, which was correct. You didn’t really have anything against jewelry, you just never wore anything except for earrings and the occasional bracelet.

“Bracelets are an exception.” You explained. “Maybe I can come back and get it after the game.” You moved on from the stand, continuing down the aisle. You now approached the stadium.

“We probably have everything we need.” You started. “Do you—” You turned around to find that Fred had fallen behind and was now walking to catch up. Once he reached you, you asked again.

“Do you want to go back to the tent?” You asked. He nodded in response.

“Yeah, you still need to paint my face.” The boy reminded you, pointing to his cheek. You chuckled and led him back in the other direction.

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Once you were back at the tent, you broke out the paints. Ginny offered to help so you showed her the basics of it. She ended up doing Ron and Hermione as well as herself. You started with Harry

“Ok, which team?” You asked, prepping one of your brushes.

“I’ll go with Bulgaria.” He requested. “Just one flag though.” You painted the red and black onto his cheeks which he thanked you for. After that you did George, who wanted the same but with the Irish colors and a flag on both cheeks. Once he was done, Fred sat down in front of you with his legs crossed.

“Ok, I’m thinking a huge clover. Covering my entire face.” He gestured to his face, picking up the brush and handing it to you. You laughed, putting a hand onto the side of his face to hold him straight and painting with the other.

“I hope you’re not kidding when you say your entire face.” You said, focusing on what you were doing, which was difficult because the boy kept making faces at you. You had made his entire face white and the clover quite literally covered nearly every inch of it.

“I’m not.” Fred responded. He had given up on making faces and now just gazed at your eyes, which you would argue was even more distracting. Once you were finished, you handed him a small mirror.

“Exactly what I was imagining!” He said, taking your brush from you. “Now it’s your turn.”

“I can probably do it myself, Fred.” You replied, raising an eyebrow. If you knew Fred Weasley, you knew it was safer not to hand him face paint. He gave you a look.

“What? Worried I’ll put a giant clover on your face?” He asked sarcastically. You shook your head, absolutely horrible at saying no to him.

“Fine, just do a flag for me.” You instructed, handing him your paints, but you interrupted him before he could start. “But If you mess up my face, Fredrick Weasley, I’ll never let you touch it again.”

“I won’t! God, woman.” Fred laughed as he spoke. He put a hand under your chin, holding your jaw to keep your head still while he painted. To get back at him, you made direct eye contact with him, chuckling as he struggled to keep his eyes from drifting to yours.

After he finished one cheek he moved onto the next, but the brush strokes were definitely not making a flag. “Freddie?”

“Hm?”

“What are you putting on my face?”

“Just trust me, love.” He assured, glancing down to your eyes for a moment before continuing. You sighed and Fred tilted your chin gently to the side so he could see it better. Once he was done he leaned back to examine his work, taking a little too long before he said anything.

George across the room looked at Ron and started fake gagging, both of them laughing shamelessly. Fred rolled his eyes and handed you your little mirror. He had put the Irish flag on one side and three small clovers on the other. When you looked back up at him he had a smile, knowing you liked it.

“I’m impressed.” You said. “You’re gonna take my job if I’m not careful.”

“Told you, I’m a natural.” He replied, leaning back on the couch. You chuckled, setting the mirror back down on the table.

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Once the sun went down, you and the rest of the group made your way to the stadium. Your seats were at the top level so it required climbing several flights of stairs that sprouted up just beyond the entrance. About one flight up you were stopped by the Malfoys, the father and son pair. You hadn’t really spoken to either of them personally but they had always seemed like prats from the interactions you heard about.

“Blimey dad, how high up are we?” Ron asked, leaning over the railing to try and see down into the stadium.

“Well let’s put it this way.” Lucius started, leaning into his cane. “If it rains, you’ll be the first to know.” Most of us ignored them and continued walking but Harry and Hermione stopped when Draco chimed in.

“Father and I are in the minister’s box.” He added, giving Harry a smug look. “By personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself.”

“Don’t boast, Draco.” His father scolded, jabbing him with his cane. “There’s no need with these people.” Harry grabbed Hermione’s arm, turning her away from the Malfoys. Before he lifted his other hand from the rail, Lucius used the snake end of his can to trap it. Harry jumped at the sudden pain.

“Do enjoy yourself, won’t you? Lucius said. “While you can.” He released his hand and you reached down to put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, turning him away from them again. This time they continued going their own way and you were able to make it up to your seats.

This was the first time you could get a good look into the stadium. Below you were an ungodly number of levels, stretching down to the bottom where the field resided. On either side of the green, three posts grew upward, the hoops at the top almost as high up as you were.

Cheers and whoops came from every direction, filling your ears with the sound. “When does the game start?” You called out over the applause. Fred leaned down to answer but was interrupted by the formation of brooms speeding by above, seeming to just barely miss the top of your heads. White and green clouds trailed behind the players as the flew toward the center of the stadium, creating a firework display there.

Then the Bulgarian team entered, crashing directly through their show and throwing off the display. They flew in a triangle formation, sporting their red and black colors. At the front, the team’s seeker led the group, showing off as he passed through the audience.

“Who’s that?” Ginny asked.

“That sis, is the greatest seeker in the world!” George answered. His voice nearly drowned out by the crowd. Somehow the applause managed to grow lauded than it was before the seeker, Viktor Krum, had made his entrance.

The game lasted for a long time, only coming to an end when Krum caught the snitch. His catch handed the win over to the Irish, who ended up with around twenty more points in total.

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Back in the tent you all celebrated, giddy on the excitement of earlier in the day. You found yourself wrapped in the Irish flag that Fred had picked out, watching them goof around. A loud explosion went off outside, sounding like one of the larger fireworks you had seen.

“There’s no one like Krum.” Ron started, standing up on the table. “He’s like a bird the way he rides the wind.” Fred threw another flag at him, which he caught and balled up in front of him.

“He’s more than an athlete, he’s an artist.” Ron continued, clearly infatuated with the quidditch player.

“I think you’re in love, Ron.” You said, earning a look from him.

“Viktor, I love you!” George sang, taking his brother’s arm.

“Viktor, I do!” Fred added, taking his other one.

“When we’re apart my heart beats only for you!” Everyone finished, being cut off by another big firework going off, followed by shouting from a ways away.

“Sounds like the Irish have got their pride on.” Fred stated, smoothing his hair out of his face. Arthur, who had been gone for a few minutes, entered the tent again, grabbing his son’s shoulder.

“It’s not the Irish.” He said in a tone that made your smile drop. He crossed the tent to reach Ginny. “We’ve got to get out of here, now.”

The scene outside was completely different from what you thought you had heard. The fireworks really had been big explosions. Tents were on fire and people fled screaming.

“Get back to the portkey everyone, and stick together!” Arthur commanded, turning to the twins. “Ginny is your responsibility, do not lose her!” He handed her off, George taking her arm and keeping ahold of her.

The chaos had delayed your reaction time while you tried to process the sudden terror. It took another explosion and more screams to break you out of it. George began running with Ginny in tow and you watched them weave through the mess.

“Y/n!” Fred yelled, taking your hand and gripping it tightly. He dragged you through the tents, following quickly behind George. He hadn’t accounted for the height difference and that you would be slightly slower than him because he continued to lead you through until you started to trip.

“Fred,” you managed to get out, the smell of smoke and burning fabric climbing into your throat. He slowed down a little, probably just considering picking you up at that point. As you passed a larger tent, you suddenly tripped over a pile of debris and Fred quickly turned to grab you. Another explosion hit, sending the tent up in flames and you two to the side. Burns tore at your leg.

The flag, which you didn’t even realize you still carried, caught fire and pain seared through your shoulder as you tried to rip the slip of fabric off. Fred hauled you to your feet, yanking the flag away and tossing it to the side.

“Are you ok?” He yelled above the chaos, his eye darting to your arm and then your leg. You winced but nodded and continued moving. Finally both of you came out onto the hill again. It was dark, but you made it to the bottom where the portkey was.

You had to stop there, gritting your teeth from the untreated burns. Fred slipped an arm around your waist to help support you. After looking around, you saw that only George, Ginny, and Arthur had made it back. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were nowhere in sight.

“Where are the others?” You asked. Arthur looked around the incomplete group.

“Stay here!” He ordered, heading back up the hill. “Whatever you do, do not go back in there!” He disappeared back into the chaos.

“Are you ok?” Fred asked his siblings, who seemed shaken but unharmed.

“A couple scratches but nothing severe.” George replied. You patted Fred’s arm so he’d let you sink to the ground. He took your hand to help you get there, unintentionally letting out a wince. You let go to see a nasty burn where he had grabbed the flag.

“Fred, your hand.” You pointed out, but he shook his head and pulled it away.

“Don’t worry about me.” He replied quickly. Then Hermione and Ron came running down the slope. But Harry wasn’t with them. Hermione landed beside you, setting down her smaller bag which she had managed to save.

“Y/n, what happened?” She asked. the burns were painful but the adrenaline hadn’t worn off so they weren’t yet unbearable.

“Where’s Harry?” You asked her, ignoring her question. She looked around, finding that Harry wasn’t there. She then frantically dug through her bag, pulling out a roll of bandages and some sort of cream. They were muggle supplies, which you had some knowledge on since one of your parents was a muggle.

“Ginny!” Hermione called to the girl, who was looking much younger now. “Wrap her burns, like I showed you!” She turned back around and headed up the hill with Ron, despite George’s protests.

“I’ll show you, Gin.” You said, gritting your teeth. She came over, kneeling down beside you. “Rip the pant leg.” Ginny was able to tear it easily since it was mostly singed anyway. Fred and George grimaced at the burns it revealed.

“Put the cream on and then wrap it.” You instructed, trying to speak calmly through the quickly growing pain. You held your burned arm in your uninjured, the whole side of your body now stinging. She did as you said, the cream bringing some relief to your leg.

Under your instruction, she took of your jacket, decently wrapped your shoulder and arm, and then got your jacket back on to shield the injuries.

“Thank you, Ginny. That was perfect.” You assured her, the stinging was now muted but still very much so present. You heard her sigh in relief at your words.

With your burns covered for now, you took Fred’s hand and wrapped it carefully, apologizing with every sound he made. After a while the screams and explosions had died out, leaving the black, smoky remains of the festival grounds. It wasn’t until about an hour after Arthur had left that he retuned, Hermione, Ron, and Harry now following behind him.

“Is everyone ok?” He asked, making his way through the group. Fred and George helped you onto your feet.

“Y/n got the worst of it,” George explained, leaving you with Fred. “The rest of us are ok.”

“Ginny bandaged everything.” You said, heaving a sigh. “I’ll be alright.”

“Well done, Ginny.” Arthur praised, putting a hand on her shoulder. After a final headcount, you all grabbed ahold of the portkey and took it back home. The walk back was brutal, but both Fred and George helped you and once you were there you received better medical attention. By the next morning you were nearly back to normal.

“How are you feeling?” Fred asked as you walked into their bedroom, noting that you were no longer limping. You expected George to be sitting there too but he wasn’t in the room.

“Better now,” you told him, sitting down on his bed with your back against the wall. “Your mother fixed me right up. But I’ll probably have those scars for a while.”

He chuckled, coming to sit down beside you. Fred pulled you into a big hug, sighing. “Sorry you tripped, I was just trying to get you out of there.” He apologized, releasing you from his embrace. You sat back against the wall again, wanting him to hold you for longer.

“I know, Freddie. Don’t worry about it.” You assured, giving him a soft smile. He returned it. His green eyes gave you that same look they did while you were painting his face.

You sighed. School hadn’t even started yet and you could tell this wasn’t going to be a quiet year. But not even those burns could make you trade it for anything else.

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Click here for part 2!

[writingonwings]

She calls me Freddie Masterlist

(Fred Weasley x Female!reader)

Ever since your first year, you and the twins were inseparable. Over time you had become closer to Fred, but it wasn’t until a certain holiday break that you found out how close

Multi-part series - (ongoing)

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Notes:

(Age is not and likely will never be specified. Assume they are older than they would be canonically. This is to make my telling of the story make a little more sense!)

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5 (coming soon!)

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[writingonwings]

we can be delulu together 🥹

Promise

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Maybe the tiniest ounce of angst, so much fluff I’m sick

Summary: After the battle you two stumble upon the mirror of Erised and now’s a good time as any to propose.

Word count: 856, short and sweet

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You stood back by the doorway, gazing out the slim hole in the stone. Dirt and blood painted your face, likely covering smaller wounds that hadn’t been tended to yet. Even with your current appearance, Fred was completely taken by you.

His lips turned into a smile, allowing his eyes to move drift away from his girl to scan the room. “As surprising as it is, I’ve never been here before.” He announced, his green eyes landing on the object in the center of the room. A tall golden mirror. It shined as if it were new, yet had a weathered look to it at the same time.

“I haven’t either.” You responded, turning on your heels to catch up with Fred, who moved around to the front of the mirror. He fumbled with the ring in his pocket— which was surprisingly still on his person after all that had happened. It seemed so long ago that he was at his desk, engraving “I promise” onto the inside of it.

Fred stood before the mirror, seeing both you and him in horrible shape. You were both bruised, bloody and exhausted. But despite all that, your smile never failed. Smaller but never gone. The sight of it summoned a warm feeling to his chest.

He turned away from the mirror, glancing at you just in time to see your expression completely change. Your mouth fell open, staring at your reflection in awe.

Confused, he followed your eyes and his heart jumped at the picture. It had completely changed. Where you both were looking practically homeless, you now stood completely cleaned up. Fred was in a sleek black suit staring down at you— you. Oh my god, you were breathtaking. You were in a flowing white dress, a vale draped over your h/c hair and the biggest smile he had ever seen.

His lungs failed him. Seeing you in a wedding dress sparked thoughts. Just the thought of getting to marry you made his head spin.

“Are you seeing this?” The real you took his focus back, but he could only nod. “They’re beautiful! Are they ours?” His brows furrowed and your question pulled his eyes back down to you.

“Who?”

“Well, probably the little ginger you’re carrying! And the one George has over his shoulder.” You went on describing the scene and it sunk in what you saw. Both of you saw the perfect future together. it made his mind drift to the ring he carried.

He slipped his hand back into his pocket for it, hesitant. You smiled up at him, making up his mind for him. Throwing his big plans out the window, he pulled the ring out gently, as if it could break under his touch. “Y/n.” He started, glancing from the ring to its future wearer.

“This is less extravagant than I had hoped it would be.” He was aware that his tone gave away how nervous he was but you didn’t care. You were shocked and through your face, that was given away too.

“Since we’ve met, we’ve probably been through more than most couples, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. During these past few years, I’ve fallen in love with you in every way possible.” Your smile was brighter than the one in the mirror.

“I want to be yours as long as I’m alive, if you’ll have me.” Fred beamed. “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?”

You were pretty much in tears now, which immediately prompted him to copy you. “R-really?” You got out. You didn’t even wait for a response before dropping to your knees with him and throwing your arms around him.

Fred managed to get out an emotional laugh, as your shaking body settled into his arms. You lifted your head to meet his eyes but he interrupted and pressed close to a thousand kisses all over your face, finishing with a sweet kiss to your lips.

To you, this was all you wanted. Whatever Fred’s elaborate plans were didn’t matter at all to you. You were overjoyed to be able to marry him. After all the jokes and teasing, it was finally real.

“Looks like I’m finally going to be a Weasley.” You smiled at your new fiancé, who pulled you back to him, wrapping his arms around you.

He exaggerated a sigh. “We’re gonna have to dye your hair now.”

“Absolutely not.” You replied while Fred slid the ring onto your finger.

“We’ll see, love.” He teased, running his fingers through your hair. You kissed the spot just under his ear and buried your face there.

There were a few moments of silence as both of you processed. Fred breathed deeply, holding you tightly. “I’m yours, Y/n.” He whispered, smiling when you melted into his embrace.

“Forever?” Your voice sounded like music in his ears.

“Forever.” Fred responded, brushing his thumb over the ring, which was now occupied by your delicate finger. “I promise.”

[writingonwings]

Little Clan

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, topics of pregnancy, sickness, etc.

Summary: You recently found out you’re pregnant and you have to tell Din

Word count: Like 700

Translation: Mesh’la (MAYSH’la) - “Beautiful”, Ad’ika (ah-DEE-kah) - “Little one”

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You’d been wrecked for the past few days. Spending so much time in bed or throwing up had taken a toll on you, causing your mental state to drop as well and make you more emotional than usual.

Din of course tended to you as if you were dying. He brought you food, did your hair, and basically just stayed with you all day. it wasn’t until today that he had to leave the Razor Crest for a couple of hours. He was hesitant but you insisted you would be just fine.

Up until early that morning, you thought it was just a particularly difficult sickness. But a thought climbed into your mind, which wouldn’t leave until you answered to it. And about an hour ago, you confirmed it. you were pregnant.

There were mixed feelings. How would Din feel about it? you didn’t even know how you felt. You knew Din and you knew he wouldn’t be upset, but it was a subject you never talked about before.

You took a few deep breaths to keep yourself from getting overwhelmed. Now sitting on the floor of the ship, you stared into a strip of metal that was clean enough to see your reflection in. That’s where you had been for at least the past ten minutes. You stayed there, even after hearing the ramp door slide open.

A hand gingerly went to your stomach, turning your head to see your armored Din climbing the ramp and into the ship.

Without greeting him, you turned back to the makeshift mirror, hearing him set Grogu down with a soft “There you go, buddy.” and raising the ramp.

Your heart picked up pace as he approached you, jumping to every possible negative outcome. Most of which were pretty far fetched.

His helmet tilted just slightly to the side. He knew you well enough to know when something was wrong, even on top of an illness. And you were terrible at hiding things from him.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He kneeled beside you and spoke as softly as he could through a modulator. When met with silence, he removed his helmet and scooped you up, setting you on his cot.

“You can tell me, mesh’la” He assured, lifting a hand to the side of your face. You met his eyes, which gazed back at you with gentle worry.

You sighed. Why were you so scared to tell him? This was Din, your Din who loved you and had no problem reminding you. You savored his touch on your face, feeling his thumb brush over your cheek.

“Din, I-” You started hesitantly. “Im pregnant.” His face changed from concern to shock. Which was rightfully so because you may have just dropped the biggest news on him he’d ever heard.

You’ve never heard him stutter before, but he did then. “Y-you’re what?” He responded. You thought at first he really was upset, but then his expression changed again. A smile started building on his face, bringing the rest of his features following suit.

“You’re not joking with me?” He asked, putting his hands on your shoulder. He now sported a huge smile. You haven’t seen him look like this in a long time. It made your heart absolutely leap.

You shook your head. “No, of course not.” you giggled. Din pulled you into him, pressing tender kisses to the side of your head. He now held you delicately, as if you were fragile now that you were carrying his child.

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his neck where you stayed for a long time. “We’re going to have a child, Din.” you finally said, muffled against his neck.

“Our ad’ika.” he replied softly, giving a kiss to the top of your head. Your smile grew. Your little clan would soon have another addition. and both of you were no less than thrilled about it.

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[writingonwings]

Off Limits

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, blood, indirect mention of suicide, anger issues, etc. a little fluff at the end

Summary: A guy is shit talking Remus while he’s not with you and you get into a physical fight over it

Word count: A little under 1k

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You went down to the great hall with Sirius after an unusually long quidditch practice. You ended late, so most of the other students were gone already. Both of you now sat down to eat a late lunch, not even bothering to change out of your sweaters. “You smell terrible,” Sirius teased, the corners of his mouth turned upward in a smirk. He lifted his cup to take a drink of whatever was inside.

“Right, because you smell just like flowers.” You replied quickly, running a hand over your messy hair, which was still tied back behind your head. After a quick glance toward the door, you caught sight of Jason Leveret. A particularly annoying Slytherin. This year he had begun to take an interest in getting on your nerves. He walked with a small group from his house down the long hall.

“It’s shocking those four even want to be around him.” You heard him say now that he was within earshot. “Personally, I wouldn’t if someone held a wand to my neck and made me.”

He didn’t say a name, but you could tell he was talking about Remus. You tensed. It was one thing when he messed with you, you didn’t really care. But Remus was a name you wouldn’t let him put in his mouth. You sat up straighter and ignored the look Sirius gave you.

“I mean, come on.” They were almost behind you now. He waited until he was passing you to continue. “Honestly, he needs to just take a walk out to the bridge if you catch my meaning.” Your head snapped in their direction.

“What did you say?” You were almost immediately on your feet. Sirius grabbed your sleeve but you yanked it away. Jason turned to face you with an arrogance that had you gritting your teeth. You knew he was proud that he had gotten to you but you didn’t care.

“I think you heard me, babe.” He sneered. Your self control had never failed so quickly. “But I’ll say it again. Your boyfriend needs to—” Jason couldn’t get another word out before you landed a punch to his face. It sent him backward and the nearby students jumping out of the way.

You grabbed onto the collar of his shirt and shoved him into the a table. Plates and silverware clattered onto the floor. “Say it again! Say it!” You hissed. He took your shoulders and rolled you over, slamming your back into the table. Your head pounded on contact.

Your size was an obvious disadvantage and you weren’t able to get out from under Jason. He got a few good punches in, causing your nose to bleed immediately. Sirius finally intervened, pushing the boy off hard enough to send him to the floor. Sirius turned to grab you, but you were already on top of Jason again.

Sirius quickly got an arm around your torso before anything else happened, pulling you away against your protests. He had both arms around you but said nothing. Only a quiet “Shh” which lowered your anger significantly.

Jason was back on his feet and stared you down. Blood gushed from his nose and he had mild cuts on his face, yet he still had the nerve to say something else. “You need to get her under control.” He said through blood and gritted teeth. Sirius glared at him, tightening his hold on you.

You wanted to snap back at him but McGonagall rushed into the hall. “Leveret! Y/l/n!” The crowd that had previously gathered shuffled away quickly. “You will go to the hospital wing and then to my office immediately.”

Jason wiped his bleeding nose with his wrist. “I’m not going to the hospital wing.” He muttered, spitting out blood.

“Then you will come with me.” The professor dragged him out of the hall with her. The second he was gone you were able to relax a little and despite your protest, Sirius brought you to the hospital wing.

James had met you in the corridors and went with. Now they both sat beside the little hospital bed you were given. “Who was it?” James asked curiously, even though he had a guess already.

“Jason Leveret.” Sirius answered for you. Your head ached now that your anger subsided.

“Oh, he deserved whatever he got.” James announced. “What does he look like right now?”

“Worse. I imagine he’ll be bruised for a few weeks.” Was your response. He did look worse but you probably hurt worse.

“Yeah, that’s our girl.” He said, ruffling your already disheveled hair. That put a smile on your face, which was still not tended to completely. They were reminded of this.

“We’re going to go get Pomfrey.” Sirius decided, standing with James. “Remus should find his way here soon.”

Like it was rehearsed, Remus came in quickly after they left. “What the hell happened to you?” He looked worried, which got no better after seeing your face. You moved over and patted the spot next to you, inviting him to come sit with you.

He obliged, putting a hand to your face and examining it closer. “Don’t worry about me.” You told him. “I’ve looked a whole lot worse.”

“Yeah, I know. Can you tell me why you like this now?” He questioned. You explained what happened, leaving out the specifics of what was said about him. None of it made him look any less concerned.

“I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.” You said much quieter and his face finally softened.

“Hon, you don’t need to get into a fist fight over me.” He stated. You moved closer to Remus, settling into his arms. He planted the softest kiss to your forehead

“Of course I do.” You replied. “And I’d do it again. Who knows, maybe next time he won’t be so quick to open his mouth.”

“We both know that’s not true.” His body shook slightly with his laugh, smoothing your hair with his hand. You were finally able to relax in his arms, feeling the tension wash away. “I know he’s a prat, but why did it make you so mad?”

You sighed. “Because you, Remus, are off limits.”

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[writingonwings]

Promise

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Maybe the tiniest ounce of angst, so much fluff I’m sick

Summary: After the battle you two stumble upon the mirror of Erised and now’s a good time as any to propose.

Word count: 856, short and sweet

༺═────────────═༻

You stood back by the doorway, gazing out the slim hole in the stone. Dirt and blood painted your face, likely covering smaller wounds that hadn’t been tended to yet. Even with your current appearance, Fred was completely taken by you.

His lips turned into a smile, allowing his eyes to move drift away from his girl to scan the room. “As surprising as it is, I’ve never been here before.” He announced, his green eyes landing on the object in the center of the room. A tall golden mirror. It shined as if it were new, yet had a weathered look to it at the same time.

“I haven’t either.” You responded, turning on your heels to catch up with Fred, who moved around to the front of the mirror. He fumbled with the ring in his pocket— which was surprisingly still on his person after all that had happened. It seemed so long ago that he was at his desk, engraving “I promise” onto the inside of it.

Fred stood before the mirror, seeing both you and him in horrible shape. You were both bruised, bloody and exhausted. But despite all that, your smile never failed. Smaller but never gone. The sight of it summoned a warm feeling to his chest.

He turned away from the mirror, glancing at you just in time to see your expression completely change. Your mouth fell open, staring at your reflection in awe.

Confused, he followed your eyes and his heart jumped at the picture. It had completely changed. Where you both were looking practically homeless, you now stood completely cleaned up. Fred was in a sleek black suit staring down at you— you. Oh my god, you were breathtaking. You were in a flowing white dress, a vale draped over your h/c hair and the biggest smile he had ever seen.

His lungs failed him. Seeing you in a wedding dress sparked thoughts. Just the thought of getting to marry you made his head spin.

“Are you seeing this?” The real you took his focus back, but he could only nod. “They’re beautiful! Are they ours?” His brows furrowed and your question and he pulled his eyes back down to you.

“Who?”

“Well, probably the little ginger you’re carrying! And the one George has over his shoulder.” You went on describing the scene and it sunk in what you saw. Both of you saw the perfect future together. it made his mind drift to the ring he carried.

He slipped his hand back into his pocket for it, hesitant. You smiled up at him, making up his mind for him. Throwing his big plans out the window, he pulled the ring out gently, as if it could break under his touch. “Y/n.” He started, glancing from the ring to its future wearer.

“This is less extravagant than I had hoped it would be.” He was aware that his tone gave away how nervous he was but you didn’t care. You were shocked and through your face, that was given away too.

“Since we’ve met, we’ve probably been through more than most couples, but I don’t think that’s a bad thing. During these past few years, I’ve fallen in love with you in every way possible.” Your smile was brighter than the one in the mirror.

“I want to be yours as long as I’m alive, if you’ll have me.” Fred beamed. “Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?”

You were pretty much in tears now, which immediately prompted him to copy you. “R-really?” You got out. You didn’t even wait for a response before dropping to your knees with him and throwing your arms around him.

Fred managed to get out an emotional laugh, as your shaking body settled into his arms. You lifted your head to meet his eyes but he interrupted and pressed close to a thousand kisses all over your face, finishing with a sweet kiss to your lips.

To you, this was all you wanted. Whatever Fred’s elaborate plans were didn’t matter at all to you. You were overjoyed to be able to marry him. After all the jokes and teasing, it was finally real.

“Looks like I’m finally going to be a Weasley.” You smiled at your new fiancé, who pulled you back to him, wrapping his arms around you.

He exaggerated a sigh. “We’re gonna have to dye your hair now.”

“Absolutely not.” You replied while Fred slid the ring onto your finger.

“We’ll see, love.” He teased, running his fingers through your hair. You kissed the spot just under his ear and buried your face there.

There were a few moments of silence as both of you processed. Fred breathed deeply, holding you tightly. “I’m yours, Y/n.” He whispered, smiling when you melted into his embrace.

“Forever?” Your voice sounded like music in his ears.

“Forever.” Fred responded, brushing his thumb over the ring, which was now occupied by your delicate finger. “I promise.”

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[writingonwings]

Brown Eyes

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Warnings: Some angst, fluff, soft Din, that should be it

Summary: After being separated for almost two years, you were finally reunited with Din.

Word count: 1k

Translations: Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum - “I love you”

«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ «̶ ̶̶̶ 　　　　 ̶ ̶ ̶»̶  ̶̶̶ ̶ »̶

One year, nine months, two weeks, and five days since you last saw Din. You had no idea if he was even alive, but you clung to the last words he said to you like your life depended on it. “No matter how long it takes, I’ll see you again.”

Ever since you two were separated a hole occupied space in your heart. Despite the effort to ease the ache, nothing worked. So over time you slowly began to fall further into your own mind.

You had built a small home on a remote planet beyond the outer rim. Remote was an understatement. Other than the animals that inhabited the surrounding trees, you were convinced nobody else lived here. Nobody that would be able to speak at least.

The land was mostly forests. A shallow but fast moving river ran through the trees, coming down from the mountain that sat a few miles from where you stayed.

Over the past year and a half, you built yourself a house and a system that kept you alive. At first it was merely for survival— just to get yourself by one day at a time— but now, physically at least, you began to thrive.

The lifestyle wasn’t bad at all. Most days you roamed the surrounding area, finding anything you could do to keep you busy. But time crawled painfully slowly.

The longer you spent here, the lonelier you got. You’ve already spent a year and a half without seeing another person. And to think of it, you couldn’t remember the last time you heard your own voice.

Now you walked through the trees, mapping your route without much effort. Mindlessly, your feet followed their normal track and allowed your thoughts to slip away from you. Your alert state faded over time since you no longer needed to look over your shoulder every few minutes.

Your bliss was ripped away from you with the sound of a ship flying quickly overhead. An N-1 Starfighter flew over the trees, headed in the same direction as you— which was also the same direction as your house. You cursed to yourself, thinking back to the fire you left running.

The smoke would be easily visible from the ship’s cockpit and the last thing you wanted was an unwelcome visitor. As far as your knowledge— which you couldn’t be sure wasn’t outdated— the starfighter was used on Naboo years ago so you couldn’t imagine who was flying it now.

Your feet were moving before you thought about it and your fingers fumbled for the blaster you kept concealed in your thigh holster. At least you had that. Your preferred weapons were left behind that morning. Approaching your house from behind the trees, you spotted the ship in the only clearing for miles, at least on this side of the river.

Worry trickled into your system, pooling in your stomach while you came up with a plan. As silently as possible, you moved to just under your window to see if you could get a glimpse of the pilot. You saw nothing so you stood cautiously, moving to the door to enter the little structure.

The pool in your stomach filled quickly as time passed without establishing who or where the pilot of the starfighter was. With your blaster in hand, you turned to go through your door, pointing your weapon in front of you.

The breath was stolen from your lungs as your blaster came face-to-face with the familiar beskar armor. “D-Din?” You whispered, your voice trying to get used to being heard again. His helmet came off slowly, revealing himself to you.

The face you had seen seen only a few times but knew more intimately than any other was now directly in front of you. The only thing that broke your trance was the makings of tears in his eyes.

Once your mind had caught up, your arms were around him. He caught you and wrapped his arms tightly around your torso, burying his face into your neck.

You were in tears, overwhelmed by your emotions. It had been so long since you had felt anything more than your usual stoic disposition and empty mind. And now your heart ached in the opposite way.

“I’m so sorry.” Din said, sounding like he was choked up. He lifted his head so he could look into your eyes, without moving his hands away from your waist. You lifted your hands to cup his face. It almost felt like he wasn’t really there, but he was.

His brown eyes gazed at you with guilt, longing, and adoration. Which mixed together to make the expression he presented to you. You examined his face for a moment before pulling him down to you. Your lips met for the first time in almost two years but it felt like no time had passed at all.

Din melted into your kiss instantly, pulling you closer while you sighed into his lips. After a long minute, he lifted his lips from yours and pressed slow kisses onto your cheeks where tears stained your skin.

Your eyes stayed closed while he kissed your face, finishing with your lips again. “Please don’t leave.” You whispered against his lips. Din’s hand went up to your cheek and your eyes met for the second time.

“I’ll never l leave you again, y/n.” He stated quietly. His voice sounded smooth and velvety in your ears. As he spoke, his breath tickled your cheeks. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum”

You didn’t understand all of Mando’a but Din had taught you that phrase when he had first said it to you. It caused your heart to flutter— a much preferred feeling to the previous emptiness.

For the first time in almost two years, you smiled. Din pressed a kiss onto your nose and rested his chin on the top of your head, silently promising he would never leave you alone like this again.

After all that time, all you wanted was to stay there in Din’s arms. Neither of you wanted to let go.

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[writingonwings]

As long as I’m here

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!reader

Warnings: angst (if you can call it that), mentions of blood/wounds, some fluff, Din is a baddie, allusion to smut but not really, protective Din, TW: Kidnapping

Summary: Moff Gideon sent troopers to retrieve you as bait for Mando but he’s not letting that happen.

Word count: 1.2k

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Nevarro’s sun neared the horizon. It would be dark soon, providing a little more cover than you had now. You slid cautiously behind a building in order to avoid interaction with a group of imperial troopers that walked on the main street.

A few buildings down the alley and you started to notice the stormtroopers matching your route on the other side of the building. Your body stiffened at the realization and you turned down a series of twists and turns. Once you finally glanced back, you noticed only two out of six continued their pursuit. The rest were nowhere in sight.

Coming to the end of the alley, you ducked into one of the buildings— which you hoped was empty. As you descended the stairs, you came into a dimly lit room stacked with shelves of what looked like ship parts

As you crossed the room toward the other door, the click of blasters hit your ears and you stopped; your hands falling to hover discreetly over the weapon concealed in your thigh holster.

“Hands up,” came the irritating voice of one trooper. You scoffed, scanning the room slowly. Four were already around you and the other two came down the stairs behind you, blocking your easiest exit.

When he repeated himself, your blaster was out in less then a second and two troopers quickly fell dead where they stood. When you aimed for the third, four barrels stared you down, pointed directly at your head from only a few feet away.

“Drop your weapon!” One demanded. You cursed under your breath, lowering your weapon to the ground. The second it was out of your grip, your hands were cuffed behind your back and a cover was placed over your mouth.

You waited until you were escorted out of the building and under the slowly darkening sky before attempting your first escape plan.

You ducked under the arms that held you and prepared a blow for him. There weren’t really any good options with your hands tied and mouth covered so your escape ended in failure. You found yourself held by two troopers with guns pointed at your skull.

On the walk through town, you caught the eye of Cara Dune. She knew you but likely wouldn’t recognize you in this state and lighting. A flicker of fear twisted at you, despite your incredible ability to conceal it.

Dank Farrik, you cursed to yourself while trying to come up with an escape route. You became increasingly aware that the longer you waited the slimmer your chances got.

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Cara Dune sought out the Razor Crest immediately, catching the Mandalorian by surprise with her approach instead of yours.

“Is y/n here?” She asked, scanning the hull but only finding Grogu and Din.

“No she went into town.” He answered simply.

“Dank Farrik, then that was her.”

“What?” Mando set down what he was doing and turned to give Cara his full attention.

“Troopers have her, they’re—” She didn’t need to explain further.

“Watch the kid.” He said, walking down the hatch door with his weapon in hand. Cara looked down at Grogu who looked back at her.

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Gloved hands held you in place as you limped, dragging your feet as much as possible to ensure they had to pull you along. Your second escape attempt— which took place just before you were ducked into an abandoned-looking building— resulted in a blaster wound to the upper thigh and an injury to the head.

Your head injury wasn’t severe but you were extremely dizzy, and despite the pain you found yourself able to walk.

After traveling down a small tunnel, you stood in a cargo storage unit. Due to the dizziness and what was probably blood loss, you had to be practically held up.

“Why aren’t we just taking her off planet?” One of the troopers asked, which was met with a short-tempered response.

“Moff Gideon wants her brought up to him.” He answered. “It’s not dark enough yet, people’ll get suspicious.”

The first stormtrooper scoffed. “We don’t have to worry about suspicions.”

“I think you do.” You jumped a little at the new voice, but you recognized it instantly. Din seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He stood across the room with his weapon pointed at the group. In response the trooper holding me pressed the barrel of his hand blaster to my neck.

“Give her to me.” Din’s tone was slow and clear. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Come any closer and both of you die.” The three other troopers aimed their blasters at Din.

“I’ll repeat myself only once.” He didn’t hesitate. “Give her to me.” One of the troopers cocked his weapon, the movement quickly being responded with a brief flash of light and three out of four soldiers falling dead. The last stood a little more shakily, holding you in place.

The Mandalorian turned his head, his helmet coldly staring at the stormtrooper. The trooper hesitantly let you slip out of his grip, handing off your unsteady body to Din, who pulled you to him by your waist to hold you up.

“Take something of mine again,” he threatened with an edge of hatred in his tone. “And the consequences will be much more severe.”

He turned to lead you out, with his blaster still pointed at the trooper. He shot first, barely touching Din’s armor before it was countered. You both watched the last trooper fall to the ground.

Now in the empty cargo room, Din set you on a crate and removed your handcuffs and mouth piece. Sitting up rather than standing, your dizziness was much more manageable.

Din cut a slit in your pant leg, to examine the wound. “Undressing me here?” You asked in a sarcastic tone.

“Not yet.” He responded to your joke but by his tone, you could tell he wasn’t in the joking mood. You could feel his tense demeanor even through his armor.

“I’m ok, Din.” You stated, attempting to make him feel a little better.

“I know,” he replied. After a long pause he sighed. “He couldn’t get me, so he went for you.”

You knew it was normal for Din to keep his thoughts inside his head, even more so when outside the Razor Crest. This was no different.

Moff Gideon’s act infuriated him. There were two things in the galaxy that he’d lay down his life for; Grogu and you. The thought of nearly losing you to the empire was reasonably anger inducing.

You rested your hands on either side of his neck, your fingers finding the only spot on him that wasn’t concealed by armor. He instantly relaxed at your touch, raising his hands to meet yours.

"As long as I'm here, nobody is taking you anywhere." He spoke calmly now that his anger had subsided. I gave him the makings of a smile and he helped me back onto the ground, leading me out and back in the direction of the Razor Crest.

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