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lushaletta · 2 hours
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love and its lethal consequences / tom riddle
pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader
content: muggleborn!reader, dark!tom, mild swearing, violence
summary: tom grapples between his dark desires and his unlikely affection for you. it’s deadly.
a/n: part 3 to this lil series :> pls lmk if u guys r enjoying so far!! idk how long i want this to be but we shall see where it goes
read the previous parts: one two
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⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.゚ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
Tom has decided. And once Tom decides something, nothing will get in his way.
You are to be his.
The murder would be the easiest part of all. Twice, now, he’s done it. First with that disgusting, grumbling Myrtle and second with his nasty father he can’t even be bothered to think about.
Third time is always the charm. He has it all figured out.
“Tommy!” you beam, following the daily routine. You slide over a treacle tart. “You liked these ones last time.”
He accepts the dessert wordlessly. He’s too deep in thought. You grin.
A few more moments of silence pass and you begin to be irritated by the lack of noise. You have to fill the air up somehow. “Have I told you about Murph yet?”
He’s almost sickened by the name itself. So much so that he can’t stomach the lovely tart your mother has made for him. You’re on a nickname basis now? “You have not.”
You haven’t told him anything about this boy, but he already knows everything. He won’t have to worry about this foul beast for much longer, so he’ll tolerate the giddiness in your eyes for now.
“We’ve just gone on a date. I think it went well, you know? He’s sweet. Opens the door for me, matches pace. That type of thing.”
Tom could do that too if that’s what you really wanted. “How wonderful,” he deadpans.
You’d be a fool not to notice the way his eye twitched when you said the word “date” or the poorly hidden sarcasm he laced in his speech.
“I think our next one is this Wednesday,” you continue.
He’s absolutely fucking repulsed. If he didn’t know any better, he’d march on over to that moron’s room and take care of it himself. But there’s a plan, procedure to be followed. And Tom is nothing if not methodical.
“I can’t believe it! The both of us have dates this week. What even are our lives now?” Camilla cheers, leaning back in her seat.
“I don’t think Tom is very happy about mine.”
She raises a brow. “That’s because Murphy isn’t pure. I’m telling you, Riddle’s lot is psychotic.”
“Okay, I’m not a fan of them either, but Tom knows I’m not pure. He’s been perfectly pleasant.”
“He hardly speaks!” she retorts.
You roll your eyes and urge her to continue reading her book. She complies. Camilla’s never been very argumentative.
As she settles in the pages, all entranced by the words, you lean back in your chair. It is a strange twist of fate that you’re now friends with Tom, but despite Camilla’s warnings, you can’t get yourself to leave. It’s a comfortable trap.
“Hello,” Tom says from behind you as you swing your feet on the railings.
You don’t skip a beat. “Hi!”
Tom knows by now that he can’t surprise you.
The echoing chambers of Hogwarts are bathed in soft moonlight, and no one else is around. Tom is usually by himself at this time. You only steal each other’s afternoons.
“You know,” you muse, breaking the comfortable quiet that settled between you. “You’re very important to me.”
Tom clears his throat. He’s never really been important to anyone. He swallows. “Likewise.”
He’s avoiding your gaze. You think it’s cute. His lips quirk into a faint smile, a rare glint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it comes.
Suddenly, you study his face, trying to unravel the mysteries hidden within. He’s more withdrawn recently. Even quieter, if that’s possible. You suppose it has something to do with Murph but you never can be too sure when it comes to him.
“You’re staring,” he says.
“I like the view.” He sighs.
Tom is not a good person. Far from it. Your friend realises it but you don’t. You’re a glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatens to consume him, that’s already consumed him. You’re both refuge from his despair and a constant reminder. He finds solace in your company and he hates it but now he has no choice. He can’t bring himself to kill you. He knows he never will and so it has to be this way.
It will hurt you, undoubtedly. It will make him more terrible than he already is.
Time is creeping up on him. You’re growing closer with that wretched Ravenclaw and the longer he waits, the more you will be affected.
“Murphy Atthill.”
He turns around at the call of his name and can’t help but feel uneasy. Tom’s presence tends to do that. “Riddle? What can I do for you?” he asks politely. He isn’t very good at masking his anxiety.
Tom casts the Killing Curse and he feels the unmistakable split of his soul as he recites haunting Latin incantations. He knows there’s no going back.
A chilling sense of finality looms over him and yet it weighs light on his conscience. All for the better, this is. In fact, it’s a twisted sense of satisfaction that he feels knowing that the deed is done. He knows he’s crossed a line with you from which there is no return,
But Murphy’s eyes lifeless are much prettier that way.
taglist for this series!! @mariamyousef702 @enidths @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @girlogies @unwrittenletter @helalokithor
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lushaletta · 3 days
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the dark lord and his distraction / tom riddle
pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader
content: muggleborn!reader, swearing
summary: you distract tom from his plans. and he hates it.
a/n: this is my pt. 2 to the lamb and her wolf! idk if i like this but i kinda do but Arghh idk. there will prob be a part 3. love u guys!
read part one here!
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⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.゚ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
“Hello!” you chirp, skipping over, books in hand.
Tom’s not looking for company. In fact, he was actively avoiding it. He couldn’t continue to be distracted by you. He had work to be done, meetings to be held. But he’s a weak man recently. “Hello.”
You set your things down and lace your arms around his neck suddenly. He’s absolutely horrified. “Thank you for your help studying, Tommy, I’ve passed my exam with full marks!”
He clears his throat and you leave a patch of goosebumps in your wake. “You’re welcome,” he drawls. “You wouldn’t have to spend so much extra time revising if you’d only paid attention in class.”
Tom knows you’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. You’d be a mistake. It’s obvious what he should do. He should send you off on your merry way and end whatever friendship has blossomed between you, so you at least have a chance at living. For someone so obsessed with immortality, Tom knew he was a dead man the moment you strut into his life, all smiles and Mary Jane’s. But he’s selfish, and so you were dead right with him, that very minute.
He doesn’t like anything you bring. He doesn’t like the reactions you elicit from calling him Tommy and he doesn’t like how you make him happy. Or hopeful. There is no hope for him. He’s destined to live a half-life and he doesn’t like that he wants to make you live that life too.
And you’re not entirely stupid. You know there’s something strange about him and that’s exactly why you come every day with your books and snacks. You’re curious. He’s haunting— a concoction of allure and fear and it’s all but enticing. “Well, who wants to do that? You’re a far better teacher.”
His face casts the ghost of a smile. “Don’t you have chess club in 15 minutes?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there,” you say, easily. Then the realisation dawns on you: You’ve never given him your schedule. “Wait a second,” you laugh. “How do you know that?”
He holds an even tone. “Not hard to guess.”
You blink. Change the topic. “You’re very pretty, you know?”
His knees almost give out and he’s seated comfortably on a chair. “Thank you,” he whispers, trying hard not to sound surprised. He’s not unaware of his good looks, but how anyone could be so casual about it is beyond him.
You’re an aberration, he thinks. No, he’s sure. You write notes in the margins of his textbooks and fall asleep on his shoulder. And when you do so, you let out the cutest little snores and purr. Like a fucking kitten. It drives him to insanity and even deeper into his spiral.
“No, like, you are super pretty. It’s kind of otherworldly.”
He’s not too sure what to say. He’s never rendered speechless by anyone, but fuck, you’re his exception to just about everything. Instead, he stiffens and breathes out a small, “That’s kind.”
Your cheeks dimple and Tom swears he sees his future. But that’s crazy. He has to remember who you are and hell, who he is. He’s the Dark Lord, evil, no matter how you see him in that pretty head of yours. And you’re a filthy Mudblood.
It’s been two days and he hasn’t seen you anywhere. He’s starting to think there *is* no cure to his hysteria because he acts crazy in both your presence and absence. He thinks about you too much in both. He’s looked everywhere; in all your classes and even your dorm that he’s managed to find.
He’s about giving up. There is no point because you’re meant to be temporary.
“Hi,” you say, breathlessly as you appear behind him, startling him into oblivion. He’s a skilled Legilimens so he should’ve heard your thoughts as you creeped up, but he was too busy with his own about you.
He conceals his relief and narrows his eyes. “You have been gone.”
You look a little disheveled but beautiful as ever. Tom doesn’t sweat, but it feels like he’s going to. “Family stuff. You know how it goes!”
Tom doesn’t know how it goes. He’s used to abandonment and lonely holidays. He doesn’t know how it goes but he knows how it feels to dread the Christmases and Easters and summers because all he can look forward to is disappointment.
He winces. You notice and cringe. You don’t know much about his family but judging by that reaction, it’s no good. “Mm,” he manages. It’s silence for a bit. Comfortable silence. He’s secretly relishing in your company. “I didn’t like it when you were gone.”
What a fucking tool.
The corners of your lips curl into a soft grin. “You are adorable!” you giggle. He’s mortified.
You haven’t really told any of your friends about your blooming acquaintanceship with Tom Riddle. After all, he’s not really known for his friendliness. But you trust Camilla. And you’ve used up the last of your excuses for bailing on meals to study with him.
“Riddle. Are you joking me?”
Your eyebrows quirk up. “No. He’s a breath of fresh air from the Hogwarts hustle. Not much of a talker though. I do most of that.”
She smiles a little like it’s expected of you but it fades once she refocuses. “He doesn’t like us Muggleborns, you know.”
“That’s silly.”
“Only true. I heard Mulciber whispering about it. Like, they really don’t like us. No wonder he’s such a git towards me in class.”
“Have you ever actually spoken to Tom, though?” You fold your arms over your chest. You’re not too sure why you’re being defensive.
“Well, no—“
“That’s what I thought! You don’t give people chances, Camilla. You rely on gossip to fuel your opinions,” you spit.
Camilla puts her hands up in surrender and starts talking about the cute Ravenclaw boy she’s planning to ask out.
“Oh! And I think Murphy fancies you! He asked me to ask you how you felt about him.”
You thought about him for a moment. He’s nothing special but he’s attractive and you’re honestly willing to give it a shot.
Tom is fuming, hearing what you think. Listening from around the corner and it’s creepy and borderline stalker-ish but he’s begun to feel a strange protectiveness over you. Frenzy and all that.
So, yes. You’re merely a distraction, an inconvenience to be ignored. Deadweight to his plans. But… you were a desire. A selfish, greedy desire.
And Tom always gets what he wants.
taglist for this series! @helalokithor @mli345 (can’t find ur blog so sorry!!) lmk if u want to be added!
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lushaletta · 7 days
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could I request some tom fluff pls? I feel like there’s none on the internet, tyy 🌸💗
a/n: short lil blurb for this one, tysm for requesting <3
“Tom,” you say gravely.
He looks up from his work, a rare occurrence. “Yes?”
You take a deep breath and in totally honesty, he’s preparing for the worst. You’re breaking up with him. Or you’re dying before he’s even figured out how to make that impossible. Or, god forbid, you’ve found another man. He shudders at the mere thought.
“Would you..” your voice is shaky. “Would you still love me if I were a worm?” You say it like you’re genuinely worried.
A sense of relief washes over his entire body before it turns into exasperation. “What?”
“Well, would you?”
The pure insanity of the question has him almost laughing. “That’s ridiculous.”
You huff, wiggling a little from where you’re sat on his bed. “That’s not an answer!”
Tom has zero idea how to respond. Should he take into consideration the logistics of the matter? He sighs. “Are you a sentient worm in this hypothetical?”
You grin. “Mhm! I’m just me, but.. worm.”
It takes a beat before he says anything else. He’s pondering.
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
He clears his throat uncomfortably, eyes looking everywhere but at you. “I would continue to love you if you were a worm.”
You erupt into laughter and leap onto him, trapping him in a hug he could easily escape, but doesn’t. “‘Continue to!’ So you do love me!”
“I think I have made that clear.”
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lushaletta · 19 days
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Unfortunately yes I would still love you because I’m addicted to Twilight too. We’re in this together 🤝🏽
i love u too anon let’s obsess over twilight together
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lushaletta · 19 days
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hiiii ivy!! i just bought remus lupin’s wand and it’s so perfect :3
- 🫶🏻
OH YOU LUCKY DUCK. happy for u how does it feel to live my dream </333
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lushaletta · 19 days
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if i told you guys i’ve fallen down a twilight rabbit hole would you still love me
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lushaletta · 19 days
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the lamb and her wolf / tom riddle
pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader
content: muggleborn!reader, tom is goin a lil mad
summary: have you fallen into the dark lord’s trap, or has he fallen into yours?
a/n: i wrote this at 4 in the morning so enjoy this stream of consciousness grumpy x sunshine esque tom riddle fanfiction or something.
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Tom is in a frenzy of sorts, he’s concluded.
Perhaps it is the sleepless nights and stressful days that cloud his weeks that are causing the weird feeling in his chest. Insomnia-induced hysteria.
There’s a flurry of thoughts swirling around his head recently. All with a common theme; you. The space in his brain that he typically reserved for Ancient Runes or Arithmancy was now composed of you, you, and only you.
It makes him sick to his stomach.
He’s unfocused. And he can’t be, because he’s supposed to be working on the secret that Salazar Slytherin hid in the deep crevices of Hogwarts some years ago.
His fingers tap on the book that he can’t seem to pay attention to as he tries to make sense of this. The disgusting, awful, pleasant fondness he feels for you. For a Muggleborn girl no less.
The only solution to his problem is to kill you. It wouldn’t be hard, he thinks. You’re small and meek and all too trusting of him. Like a lamb to the slaughter.
You are a symbol of everything he despises. Joy. Innocence. You are of the same kind as his worthless father. So why is it that he can’t bring himself to end you? To end your time together? He’s done it before. He’s done it plenty of times and without a second thought.
“Tom!” your horrible, beautiful voice cheers, snapping him out of his thoughts. Oh, great, he thinks. You plague his mind and now you bedevil his reality.
“Hello,” he says after a beat.
You ignore his bothered expression and smile. “I’ve brought snacks! You do like mince pie, don’t you?” He nods weakly. “Good, because my mam’s had some sent. She’s trying out a new recipe. Secret ingredient or something like that. I’m sure you haven’t eaten yet, with your inane study habits, I mean, do you ever have breaks?” You ramble on and he listens with fascination. How could you be talking to him so casually? So endearingly?
You’re far from done. “It doesn’t matter, though. You’ll have a break now. Go on, put your book away, would you?” He does as told. He’s not sure why. You take a seat at his table, fumbling with the paper bag you’ve brought. “Aha! Mince pie! One for each of us. Tell me if you like it, I’ll have Mam send some more. She’d be delighted.”
It’s at this point, where he’s chewing on warm minced pie and watching you do the same, nodding contentedly, that he wonders which life decisions he’d made led up to this. He’s the Dark Lord. A name that the world will soon fear. If all goes to plan, you’ll be reading in terror of all the vile things he’s done in the paper. You’ll be afraid of him, and he can’t help dread it. He dreads the thought of your heartbroken eyes as you realise what a wicked person you’d extended your kindness to.
It’s the frenzy again. What is he even thinking? He dreaded nothing. He looked at his plans with excitement.
“Tom? Hellooo,” you say, singsongingly. He didn’t even realise you’d been speaking. He glances up at you and imagines what you’d think of him once the truth comes out.
“Yes?”
“What do you think? About the pie, I mean.”
He clears his throat, fingers gripping the armrest of his seat. “Good. It’s good.” That draws another pretty smile out of you and he really hates the way it made him feel. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome! Also, Tommy,” He quirks his brow. The nickname was a slip of the tongue. You’d never used it and it made you nervous, but he didn’t seem to mind so much. “Are you busy later? I need some help with Transfiguration.”
He’s always busy. Well, he should be. He’s been slacking recently, too preoccupied with your freshly baked desserts and strawberry-smelling hair.
“I could make time for that,” he says decidedly.
Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.
You’re immediately on your feet, giddy like how he’d imagine a child to be upon receiving candy. “Thank you! Oh, you’re a lifesaver, truly!” you say, and suddenly a kiss is planted on his cheek.
A full stop. His world pauses and spins on its axis. Your lips felt good. Bad.
What an evil, evil wolf he was.
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lushaletta · 21 days
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IM BLUSHING STOP!! thank u luna dearest :((((
4:19 / remus lupin
remus is looking at you very lovingly. it’s almost as if he doesn’t want to look at anything else.
you indulge him, crawling into his lap and taking a seat like it’s yours.
“you’re killing me,” he mutters, knowing full well this is what he lives for.
your arms lace around his neck, your soft skin grazing upon his stubble. “maybe that’s been my plan all along, lupin.”
he’s had a hard day. one inconvenience after the other stacked on top of the other disasters that he calls his everyday.
it’s so hilariously tragic, his life, they’ve all turned away from him and he’s so close to letting you go from the thought you’ll end up like the rest.
but you smile, you bat your eyelashes,
and you’re the only thing he sees.
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lushaletta · 22 days
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HI IVY! idk if you do this but could i be an emoji anon?? im so shy but u seem sweet
i was thinking 🫶🏻 could be my emoji??
BABES YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH IVE WANTED AN EMOJI ANON!! i’d be honoured to have you as one!! and yes you can def have that emoji <33
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lushaletta · 22 days
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your bio does not lie you are a mind blower, I absolutely loved that fred weasley fic !!
omg thank you so much!! so happy you enjoyed it <33
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lushaletta · 23 days
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2:19 / remus lupin
remus is looking at you very lovingly. it’s almost as if he doesn’t want to look at anything else.
you indulge him, crawling into his lap and taking a seat like it’s yours.
“you’re killing me,” he mutters, knowing full well this is what he lives for.
your arms lace around his neck, your soft skin grazing upon his stubble. “maybe that’s been my plan all along, lupin.”
he’s had a hard day. one inconvenience after the other stacked on top of the other disasters that he calls his everyday.
it’s so hilariously tragic, his life, they’ve all turned away from him and he’s so close to letting you go from the thought you’ll end up like the rest.
but you smile, you bat your eyelashes,
and you’re the only thing he sees.
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lushaletta · 23 days
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i hate doing my format BUT ITS FOR THE AESTHETIC SO WE PUSH THROUGH
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lushaletta · 23 days
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OH STOP IT UR TOO NICE!! def go for it and write it i’d love to read!!!
I have a question??? Could you do Fred Weasley x older sister Potter reader who's he's friends with and like headcanons of their relationship please and thank you
in good hands / fred weasley
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pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader
content: mild swearing, older sister potter!reader
summary: being harry potter’s older sister is difficult. you hate watching your little brother get hurt both physically and emotionally, but fred happens to be a great protector.
a/n: MY FRED WEASLEY DEBUT!! george is my fav but fred is so arghghghgh hot. anywayyyy tysm for this request and i’m sorry i didn’t follow it to a t!! i was originally gonna do headcanons as requested but i kinda got in the zone… i do kinda like this pairing though so i may end up doing hcs eventually anyway! also my bad for this taking FOREVER i’ve been madly busy… love u folks
Harry comes running into your room, soaked with both rain water and agitation. His broom is immediately tossed to the side and you can’t help but be concerned— you have a feeling you know what this is going to be about, and it’s not the first time.
“Harry?”
“So sick of it! I only try to help, you know? To make things better and no one ever gives a fuck! No gratitude or even kindness, after everything I’ve done.” Your face softens as he inches towards you, even being careful not to get your bed wet with his clothing.
“They’re still mad at you for losing the game? Are you serious?” You’re completely furious. Harry’s had the world on his shoulders since forever and his entire life is a tragedy. He can’t even play a school sport without being reamed for something that’s hardly his fault.
Peeling his jersey off, he crawls into your side and waits for your affection; the only thing he can count on when the world isn’t on his side.
“I tried to fix things, you know? Told Fletcher I was sorry but they’re still pissed, calling me a freak and saying all this crap about Voldemort.” You shush him and cradle his face in your arms. Your heart is breaking because how could anyone treat your baby brother like this, how could anyone see him as something less than precious?
His eyes shimmer but not with the sparkle of joy. They’re teary. “Fuck ‘em all. They’ll come around, Harry. They do eventually.”
It’s not fair what they do to him. He’ll mess something up and half the time it’s out of his control, and suddenly he’s public enemy number one. You’re usually there to help, and so are his friends like Hermione and Ron, but it can’t always be like this.
He’s okay after a while. You amp up the jokes and ruffle his hair and he’s okay. He has dinner with his group and you with yours. It’s a nice evening and all you can do is hope he’s forgetting everything wrong with the world. It seems like he is, because he’s tossing peanuts in the air and catching them in his mouth while Ron is laughing hysterically and Hermione is resting her hand on a judgemental expression.
“Oi, Weasley!” you say, and Fred whips his head towards you. “I’ve got something to ask. A favour.”
He perks up. You were asking him for a favour. He’s been waiting for his in since forever, but he wouldn’t let you know that. “Yeah?” he replies, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.
A quick breath escapes your lips as you lean on him, lashes fluttering and a little grin settled on your face. He can look at you trying to be all persuasive without blushing. He’s stronger than this.
“How about.. you and George look after Harry? I’ve been worried about him, with the whole dementor thing. And after what happened last game, I can’t just sit from the stands and watch him get injured again knowing I didn’t do anything about it. Everyone’s pissed at him.”
Fred softens. His mind races, trying to come up with the cons of the request. He comes up empty. This was an excuse to talk to you more and, well, he already quite liked Harry, so that was no issue. And with your convincing doe eyes, how could he refuse?
He’s taking too long to respond and he knows it, but he can’t stop staring at your pretty face. You clear your throat, prodding for an answer. “Huh? Oh, yeah. The lad’s gonna be in good hands, m’lady,” he winks.
The roll of your eyes makes him smile. “Better make sure of it, Weasley.”
And to shut you up, he shoves a grape between your lips and you smack him across the arm.
From then on, Fred and George made sure no one got in Harry’s way. Someone messed with him, they messed with them. The twins were 190 and a half centimetres of beater strength and poking the bear was on no one’s to-do list, so Harry was pretty much set. Well, not entirely.
All Harry really wants to do is sit down and catch up on the pile of homework he’s missed for Chosen One duties, but some people take that as being haughty.
“Potter. You and your godforesaken hero complex. You think you’re untouchable? What’ll happen if I sock you in the face, huh? You think magic will—“
“Fuck around and find out.”
Finnick Lewis turns around. He immediately backtracks. “Hey, listen, man, I don’t want any trouble.” Fred didn’t miss the nasty glare that Lewis sent Harry on his way out. He’d take care of that one later.
The boy doesn’t really know what’s just happened or why, but he’ll take whatever he can get and he’ll be grateful for it. He mumbles out a thank you before scrambling to his room.
You’d seen Fred’s effort in protecting your brother. He’d done a damn good job at it too, because Harry hadn’t complained much about students in weeks. You’re glad you at least took that load off his shoulders.
“Tell you what, Weasley,” you say nonchalantly, unwrapping a chocolate.
He hums. It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and he’s trying to finish up an essay. Lupin likes him just fine, but he’s definitely a tough grader.
“If you can make sure Harry’s perfectly uninjured after the next game, I’ll give you a kiss.”
Who cares about Lupin? Fred looks up at you instantly, suddenly feeling the velvet of the chair on his skin. “I’ll totally bite. How many seconds?”
You snort. “The kiss?” He nods. “3 seconds. 5 if I’m feeling generous.”
The essay is forgotten just like that.
The man moved the moon and sun to ensure Harry’s safety on his watch. Lewis and Fletcher had their tails between their legs after a few careful threats and actions to back them up, and Harry felt good. Safe. That’s all that mattered.
Monday arrives and the Quidditch stands are a sea of red and blue with Gryffindor particularly antsy as Harry zooms around the pitch, Golden Snitch right within his view but not quite arms reach.
“Potter’s got his eye on the prize! I’ve got mine on too, Johnson looks impeccable in robes, I’ll tell you that much— Sorry, Professor.”
Fred’s holding his own, watching out for any foul play from the Slytherin Seeker whilst batting Bludgers. George is at his side, throwing them out and scoring right into Flint’s stomach.
“Wonderful play from Weasley! Not quite sure which one, but great nonetheless,” Lee says through the megaphone.
Fred’s just about to hit a Bludger into the opposing Keeper’s side, but he spots Harry in the corner of his eye being tailed by Higgs and there’s a nasty Slytherin Bludger coming right for him and he’s flying there immediately.
Harry’s so pumped with adrenaline and focus on the Snitch, he doesn’t even notice the ball coming straight to his nose. Godric knows that would leave a mark. Fred comes up and bats it away, nearly falling off his broom.
You’re watching from the stands in admiration and excitement and Fred can’t help but find you in the crowd. He sends you a wink from the pitch and a girl beside you seems to think it’s for her. You let it happen. You know who it belonged to.
Gryffindor emerges victorious, winning by two points and Harry’s crowd surfing, a big smile on his face as students chant his name. He doesn’t know how long the fame will last, but he doesn’t really care.
“You did good, Weasley,” you admit as Fred comes up beside you.
“Think I deserve my kiss now?”
In typical you fashion, you roll your eyes and pull him towards your face.
He thinks the kiss will be haste, but you melt into his lips and he does the very same. His arms snake around your waist and bring you impossibly closer and you relish in it. It’s embarrassing how much you’re grinning, but you can feel his smile too.
Catching your breath, “That was like 30 seconds. Now you gotta help Harry with his homework.”
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lushaletta · 23 days
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i will def start doing shorter blurbs so i can actually start writing and posting more 😭 i keep pressuring myself to make like long-ish stuff n its holding me back so much….,m.mm
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lushaletta · 23 days
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I have a question??? Could you do Fred Weasley x older sister Potter reader who's he's friends with and like headcanons of their relationship please and thank you
in good hands / fred weasley
pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader
content: mild swearing, older sister potter!reader
summary: being harry potter’s older sister is difficult. you hate watching your little brother get hurt both physically and emotionally, but fred happens to be a great protector.
a/n: MY FRED WEASLEY DEBUT!! george is my fav but fred is so arghghghgh hot. anywayyyy tysm for this request and i’m sorry i didn’t follow it to a t!! i was originally gonna do headcanons as requested but i kinda got in the zone… i do kinda like this pairing though so i may end up doing hcs eventually anyway! also my bad for this taking FOREVER i’ve been madly busy… love u folks
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⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.゚ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
Harry comes running into your room, soaked with both rain water and agitation. His broom is immediately tossed to the side and you can’t help but be concerned— you have a feeling you know what this is going to be about, and it’s not the first time.
“Harry?”
“So sick of it! I only try to help, you know? To make things better and no one ever gives a fuck! No gratitude or even kindness, after everything I’ve done.” Your face softens as he inches towards you, even being careful not to get your bed wet with his clothing.
“They’re still mad at you for losing the game? Are you serious?” You’re completely furious. Harry’s had the world on his shoulders since forever and his entire life is a tragedy. He can’t even play a school sport without being reamed for something that’s hardly his fault.
Peeling his jersey off, he crawls into your side and waits for your affection; the only thing he can count on when the world isn’t on his side.
“I tried to fix things, you know? Told Fletcher I was sorry but they’re still pissed, calling me a freak and saying all this crap about Voldemort.” You shush him and cradle his face in your arms. Your heart is breaking because how could anyone treat your baby brother like this, how could anyone see him as something less than precious?
His eyes shimmer but not with the sparkle of joy. They’re teary. “Fuck ‘em all. They’ll come around, Harry. They do eventually.”
It’s not fair what they do to him. He’ll mess something up and half the time it’s out of his control, and suddenly he’s public enemy number one. You’re usually there to help, and so are his friends like Hermione and Ron, but it can’t always be like this.
He’s okay after a while. You amp up the jokes and ruffle his hair and he’s okay. He has dinner with his group and you with yours. It’s a nice evening and all you can do is hope he’s forgetting everything wrong with the world. It seems like he is, because he’s tossing peanuts in the air and catching them in his mouth while Ron is laughing hysterically and Hermione is resting her hand on a judgemental expression.
“Oi, Weasley!” you say, and Fred whips his head towards you. “I’ve got something to ask. A favour.”
He perks up. You were asking him for a favour. He’s been waiting for his in since forever, but he wouldn’t let you know that. “Yeah?” he replies, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.
A quick breath escapes your lips as you lean on him, lashes fluttering and a little grin settled on your face. He can look at you trying to be all persuasive without blushing. He’s stronger than this.
“How about.. you and George look after Harry? I’ve been worried about him, with the whole dementor thing. And after what happened last game, I can’t just sit from the stands and watch him get injured again knowing I didn’t do anything about it. Everyone’s pissed at him.”
Fred softens. His mind races, trying to come up with the cons of the request. He comes up empty. This was an excuse to talk to you more and, well, he already quite liked Harry, so that was no issue. And with your convincing doe eyes, how could he refuse?
He’s taking too long to respond and he knows it, but he can’t stop staring at your pretty face. You clear your throat, prodding for an answer. “Huh? Oh, yeah. The lad’s gonna be in good hands, m’lady,” he winks.
The roll of your eyes makes him smile. “Better make sure of it, Weasley.”
And to shut you up, he shoves a grape between your lips and you smack him across the arm.
From then on, Fred and George made sure no one got in Harry’s way. Someone messed with him, they messed with them. The twins were 190 and a half centimetres of beater strength and poking the bear was on no one’s to-do list, so Harry was pretty much set. Well, not entirely.
All Harry really wants to do is sit down and catch up on the pile of homework he’s missed for Chosen One duties, but some people take that as being haughty.
“Potter. You and your godforesaken hero complex. You think you’re untouchable? What’ll happen if I sock you in the face, huh? You think magic will—“
“Fuck around and find out.”
Finnick Lewis turns around. He immediately backtracks. “Hey, listen, man, I don’t want any trouble.” Fred didn’t miss the nasty glare that Lewis sent Harry on his way out. He’d take care of that one later.
The boy doesn’t really know what’s just happened or why, but he’ll take whatever he can get and he’ll be grateful for it. He mumbles out a thank you before scrambling to his room.
You’d seen Fred’s effort in protecting your brother. He’d done a damn good job at it too, because Harry hadn’t complained much about students in weeks. You’re glad you at least took that load off his shoulders.
“Tell you what, Weasley,” you say nonchalantly, unwrapping a chocolate.
He hums. It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and he’s trying to finish up an essay. Lupin likes him just fine, but he’s definitely a tough grader.
“If you can make sure Harry’s perfectly uninjured after the next game, I’ll give you a kiss.”
Who cares about Lupin? Fred looks up at you instantly, suddenly feeling the velvet of the chair on his skin. “I’ll totally bite. How many seconds?”
You snort. “The kiss?” He nods. “3 seconds. 5 if I’m feeling generous.”
The essay is forgotten just like that.
The man moved the moon and sun to ensure Harry’s safety on his watch. Lewis and Fletcher had their tails between their legs after a few careful threats and actions to back them up, and Harry felt good. Safe. That’s all that mattered.
Monday arrives and the Quidditch stands are a sea of red and green with Gryffindor particularly antsy as Harry zooms around the pitch, Golden Snitch right within his view but not quite arms reach.
“Potter’s got his eye on the prize! I’ve got mine on too, Johnson looks impeccable in robes, I’ll tell you that much— Sorry, Professor.”
Fred’s holding his own, watching out for any foul play from the Slytherin Seeker whilst batting Bludgers. George is at his side, throwing them out and scoring right into Flint’s stomach.
“Wonderful play from Weasley! Not quite sure which one, but great nonetheless,” Lee says through the megaphone.
Fred’s just about to hit a Bludger into the opposing Keeper’s side, but he spots Harry in the corner of his eye being tailed by Higgs and there’s a nasty Slytherin Bludger coming right for him and he’s flying there immediately.
Harry’s so pumped with adrenaline and focus on the Snitch, he doesn’t even notice the ball coming straight to his nose. Godric knows that would leave a mark. Fred comes up and bats it away, nearly falling off his broom.
You’re watching from the stands in admiration and excitement and Fred can’t help but find you in the crowd. He sends you a wink from the pitch and a girl beside you seems to think it’s for her. You let it happen. You know who it belonged to.
Gryffindor emerges victorious, winning by two points and Harry’s crowd surfing, a big smile on his face as students chant his name. He doesn’t know how long the fame will last, but he doesn’t really care.
“You did good, Weasley,” you admit as Fred comes up beside you.
“Think I deserve my kiss now?”
In typical you fashion, you roll your eyes and pull him towards your face.
He thinks the kiss will be haste, but you melt into his lips and he does the very same. His arms snake around your waist and bring you impossibly closer and you relish in it. It’s embarrassing how much you’re grinning, but you can feel his smile too.
Catching your breath, “That was like 30 seconds. Now you gotta help Harry with his homework.”
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lushaletta · 26 days
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i would like to formally wish my beloved fred and george the happiest birthday ever
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lushaletta · 4 months
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me because i kinda wanna change my theme but IM IN TOO DEEP
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