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obx-beach · 3 years

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once upon a time I really liked angst now my heart has changed to a big fluffy ball of love :O

omg ily to ( ˘ ³˘)

changing seasons (george weasley x fem!reader)

changing seasons

description: adult relationships are complicated and painful, a fact George and the reader now far too well

warnings: angst, a fleeting allusion to smut, brief passing mentions of food.

a/n: excuse any typos, i wrote this as 3am and wasnt wearing glasses.

…

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) always comes when George least expects it, a knock on his door that turns a normal day into a fond memory. Even ruffled from international portkey travel, tumbling into the apartment to collapse tiredly on the couch, messy and unorganised, her arrival sends a smile straight to his cheeks every time.

Today she appears in the shop, grinning at him from the door and waving dramatically at him. He’s barely out from behind the till before she’s launching herself into his arms with a squeal.

“George!” She exclaims. “I’ve missed you!”

He takes a second to respond, dazed again as he usually is by her sudden appearances. He waits until he’s placing her down on the ground again to answer with a smile.

“I’ve missed you too, (Y/N).” He chuckles. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“The shop or the country?”

“Both.” He snorts.

“Well, as MACUSA recognises my top notch auror qualities, they’ve rewarded me a holiday and i figured the best place to spend it would be with my favourite red head”

she blinks up at him with a smile, one that has his grin growing wider, a talent she’s perfected after years of practice. She was his bestfriend through Hogwarts, before she moved to America for her dream job. Her visits though, can makke it feel normal, as though she never left in the first place.

“Don’t let Fred hear you say that.” He jokes. “You’ll bruise his ego.”

“You appear to be running the shop on your own today.” She observes. “Plus he could do with his ego being taken down a few.”

“He’s out on a lunch date with Angelina.” George informs. “He’ll be back soon for you to bully.”

“The excitement is killing me already.”

Grinning at her, he can’t help the urge to pull her into a second hug, wrapping his arms around her tightly as he always does when she comes back from the states, making up for all the hugs they’ve missed .

“Listen, the afternoon rush is about to start…” He admits once pulling away. “You can wait upstairs if you like.”

“That sounds great.”

“You can help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” He assures. “Most of its Fred’s.”

She nods, giving him one final smile and making her way up the stairs as has become her tradition after arrival. Right on cue, George calls her name softly and she turns back to him again to catch the warmth in his eyes.

“It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be here, Georgie.”

…

She’s lying on his sofa wearing one of his shirts when he retires from work for the day. Head flung back against one of the arm rests, she holds a book above her, precariously hung from her finger tips as she reads.

He can feel the warmth flooding his chest at the sight and he’s quick to kick his shoes off to join her, flopping down on to the cushion at the other end of the sofa and stretching his legs until they tangle with her own.

“How was your shift?”

“Grueling.” He confesses with a chuckle. “Did you steal all the biscuits?”

“Only the ones I like.”

She seems to finish the chapter she’s on before shutting the book, sliding it onto the coffee table. She gifts him a soft look, sitting up to our stretch her hands in an attempt to express her desire for a hug, one he’s seen so often he doesn’t even need to decipher it.

As is their usual routine, he mimics her action until a grin stretches at her lips and she’s clambering forward and landing haphazardly on his chest, her head beneath his chin and her arms wrapped around his torso.

Her visits might be sporadic and often brief, but to George they’re everything. It’s a relationship not many have tried to understand, the way she appears on his doorstep and in an hours time ends up on his arms, all without the label of being his girlfriend.

They wouldn’t trade it though, not the conversation, the cuddles or the kisses, for a anything else the world could give them.

“Thank you for always being here for me whenever i get back.” She whispers into the quiet apartment. “You’re the best.”

George is almost too distracted by the rise and fall of her chest felt on his, on the way her gentle breaths fill the silent apartment and how she fits him perfectly, as if they were made for this exact situation. Then, kissing her head gently he replies.

“Anything.” He exhales. “Anything for you, (Y/N).”

The next thing she wants to say is always too far, though it’s absence lingers in the air, palpable almost. No matter how much it’s true though, she can’t bring herself to say it, the thought of doing so cracking her heart into pieces, because it wouldn’t be fair.

Telling George she loves him would cross a line that would only make their unspoken arrangement more complicated, but it’s sits their on her tongue threatening to burst out with every touch, every squeeze of her hips, of his finger tips on the nape of her neck as he pulls her closer and the feel of their lips pressed together.

…

He’s perfected the act of pretending not to notice that she’s pulling away to leave again, of acting as though he can’t hear the American twang in her voice sometimes, a reminder that in a true reality, she live miles across the world.

They spent their time wrapped in their own cocoon, hidden from the world of those who don’t understand that a week of love is enough to make up for a year of silence, of frost covered gardens and wilted wild flowers.

He tells himself over and over that it’s enough, but as the days go on, the unspoken words are louder than the others. Affectionate conversations spoken into hushed silences in his bedroom begin to fill with holes where the truth should lie. The truth that in a few short days she’ll have to leave.

It comes just over a week after her arrival, and in her usual fashion, she slips from the covers in the early morning, grimacing as her top toes footsteps are annunciated by creaky floorboards just as she’s trying to sneak away.

She fixes him one last glance as she stands in the door way ready to leave, an aching longing in his bones just to crawl back into bed again, to live the rest of her life with him here in this apartment.

However, an adult life of work calls for her in the states, and has her reluctantly turning her back on George, sleeping soundly, oblivious to her departure as she creeps down the hall.

She’s flinging her shoes on when Fred appears from the other rend of the narrow corridor leading the the front door, arms folded across his chest with a frown. She stills from her ministrations, gulping at the angry look he’s giving her.

“You’re away again.”

It’s not a question, but a painful truth to which she can only nod and drop her eyes guiltily. Fred sighs loudly, shaking his head in disapproval.

“I’m sorry.” She exhales. “I don’t like leaving.”

“Why do you?”

“I have work, Freddie.” She sighs. “You know how hard i worked for this job and I can’t lose it-“

“But you’re quite happy to lose him.”

She flinches, biting her lip to avoid tears. Fred’s always disapproved, ever since she announced her job plans all those years back at Hogwarts. He could see the thought of losing her breaking his brother’s hearts, but he could also see it just as obviously on her own face every time their eyes met.

“That’s what’s going to happen though.” He continues. “He’s going to get fed up of the week long visits and shitty letters.”

“It’s a demanding job-“

“it’s a great job, (Y/N).” He assured sadly. “We’re both very proud of you for it and you had to give up so much to get it, but you were supposed to give up George… it would be less painful for both of you to give him up.”

“I can’t give him up.” She informs guiltily. “It’s selfish and hurts to leave but i can’t give him up.”

“You have to.” Fred informs. “You don’t see how he gets jittery every time an owl taps the window incase it’s you, or how, after you’re gone, it takes days for him to deal with the fact you’ve left again.”

She doesn’t realise she’s crying until he’s crossing the space between them pull her into his chest. He then a soothing hand down her back despite his anger and exhales a sigh as she begins to cry.

“I love him, Fred.”

“I know.”

“I’ve never loved anything as much as i love him.” She elaborates, though muffled my Fred’s shirt. “Leaving him hurts every time, but it would hurt more to say goodbye for good.”

“You need to make a decision.” Fred explains, pulling back to fix her a more sympathetic look. “If you love him as much as you say you do, you have to leave and stop coming back.”

Her breath catches with a chocked gasp, she blinks up at him, expelling fat tears that roll down her cheeks and his the wooden floor.

“You can’t keep stringing him out the way you are.” He says. “Because the more you leave the worse it gets.”

It makes sense, it makes so much sense it hurts. She’s been clinging to him like the last frost of winter on newly forming buds. She’s holding him back selfishly from the chance of love with another, love with someone less complicated. She needs to let him go, she’s known it for so long but as she goes to explain it to Fred, it catches on her throat and a fresh set of tears fall from her eyes.

“Tell him I’m sorry.” She pleads. “Tell him that i love him.”

“Okay.” Fred nods. “I will.”

“Thank you…” She whispers shakily.

“I know.” He assures.

She nods, turning in a sort of daze to sort her shoes. She’s doesn’t offer Fred another hug, knowing it will only drag out the pain. Instead she opens the door of their flat and pauses in the doorway.

“Bye, Fred.” She says finally. “I-“

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt him.” Fred reassures. “Life got complicated after Hogwarts.”

“That’s one way of saying it.” She sniffles.

“He loves you too.”

She can only nod again, taking a deep breath as she steps from the apartment. Fred watched her go, heart pounding from what he’s just done, the inevitable the couple has been putting off until now.

He’s shutting the door when he hears footsteps behind him, turning to George, store triedly with a knowing look in his eyes.

“She’s gone.”

“I don’t think she’s coming back.” Fred admits. “I’m sorry, George.”

George shakes his head, shoving his hands into his pockets and holding his shoulders high to come across as unbothered as his brother comes toward him.

“She said she’s sorry.” Fred continues. “And that she loves you.”

Clapping a hand in his brother’s shoulder, Fred passed by him to put the kettle on for a warm drink. George stands crestfallen in the hallway staring at the shut door she’s just left.

She comes like spring, happy colours and bright days, but she leaves like summer, a threatened departure that goes on for ever until suddenly the dark is creeping in earlier and the bitter cold settles deep in his bones.

He’ll miss her like the heat of the sun on a cold autumn evening, he always does, but where there was always the anticipation of spring to come, there is only the dread of long cold nights alone.

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obx-beach · 3 years

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shadows on the bedroom ceiling (fred weasley x fem!reader)

description: the reader struggles to sleep alone after Fred’s death.

warnings: death, grief, loss of a loved one, angst

(a/n: first fred fic (probs more a blurb though lets be real), let me know what you think :))

The bedroom ceiling has become her best friend. She’s all too acquainted with its chips and peeling paint, with the shadows that dance across it from the gap in the curtain and how they never still throughout the night.

It knows her too, far better than most. Its witness to her vulnerability in a way no one ever has been before, no one except the person whose absence has stolen her sleep to begin with, has caused all her tears each night.

A month without Fred Weasley has been a nightmare to all who loved him. One of them many lives stolen too soon by a war that should never have been theirs to fight, he left so much behind; a grieving family, a broken twin brother and a fading indent in the mattress where he used to sleep.

Every night, (Y/N) runs her fingers across it and forces herself to remember when he was there, the early morning rises spent barely awake, mumbling to one another as the sun crept through the curtains and spilled across the room, the late nights spent with her head on his chest, listening to his quiet snoring and finding comfort in the rise and fall of his chest.

She finds herself missing the habits she used to hate, the way he would hog covers on the coldest winter evenings but radiate heat like a burning furnace during the summer, how each night he would fight sleep like a child on new years eve, chatting nonsense to her until his words faded into the silence of sleep. If he were here though, to ramble shamelessly through her attempts at sleep, she’d stay awake to cling to each word, to engrave the exact gravelly edge to his sleepy voice in her mind.

But his side of the bed lies empty as it has since her and George’s return from the burrow, where each day was filled with enough loving distraction to exhaust her into a restless sleep through the night. Now though in a bed that they used to call theirs, his absence is felt everywhere, his untouched pillows, the wilting flowers on the bedside table and his old jumper flung across the chair at the foot of the bed.

No tossing and turning ever saves her, her battle for sleep is always lost. She can only turn back to the ceiling and thank it for its company, searching for sense of peace in its dancing shadows and peeled paint that never comes. And so she waits with her eyes wide open for the emptiness of his absence to find her too, to envelope her in the same stillness it has his pillows and his dip in the mattress.

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obx-beach · 3 years

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an amazing writer deserves amazing feedback <3

Woolly Jumpers (Remus Lupin x Reader)

Warnings: Swearing (I think), my usual shitty writing etc etc

Authors Note: This was not requested, I was just bored and I needed this (I have been living in a series of melt downs, like stress-induced-nose-bleed melt downs). If you however, would like to request anything, my requests are open here.

…

Warnings: Swearing (I think), my usual shitty writing etc etc

—

She’s always loved Remus’ jumpers more than her own, all warm colours and oversized sleeves. Warmer somehow, comforting in a way, they’ve become a staple part of her daily attire to the point where people are much more likely to find her wearing one than they are Remus.

Today is one of the first times all week (Y/N) has gone without, reluctantly opting for a jumper of her own, trying to ignore the strange foreign feel to it, an unfamiliarity with her own clothes that can only be blamed on Remus Lupin’s extensive jumper collection; the undeniable source of her new found sweater snobbery.

However leaning over the pearly coloured potion in the cauldron in front of her, her sense are left momentarily confused. Around her, her friends wait curiously for her to recite what she’s smelt, succumbing to the buzz of studying Amortentia with the rest of the class.

She’s still trying to dechipher the smells herself when Sirius’ elbow nudges gently against her side, drawing her attention from the potions itself to his waiting expression.

“What d'you smell?”

“Give her a chance, Padfoot.”

She gives Peter a grateful look, though she can still see the curiosity in his eyes. Feeling suddenly outnumbered, she turns back to the potions and breathes in the undecipherable array of smells and waits expectantly for them to separate from one another.

“I smell…” She starts. “Dusty books, hot chocolate and…”

She frowns, catching the smell that initially threw her off guard, one that seems far too familiar for her to struggle with the way she does. Like the schools washing detergent, the way it clings to each knitted stich of a wooly jumper.

Then, all at once she realises what it is, and why she’s confused.

“And?” Peter urges, strategically kind.

“Woolly jumpers” She gulps. “I think.”

“Woolly jumpers?” Sirius hums knowingly.

(Y/N) can feel herself growing warmer with embarrassment, glancing down at her chest hoping to find herself wearing Remus’ jumper rather than her own, a desperate attempt to explain to herself why on earth she could be spelling it that would have nothing to do with liking her best friend.

Yet her grey sweater still clings to her uncomfortably as it has all day, proving the potion correct where she wishes it were wrong. Sirius is staring at her, all to smug and knowing for her liking.

“What do you think that means?” He pushes. “Huh?”

She tries to fix him a glare, turning back for one last futile attempt to save herself, breathing in a final breath of the potion. Once again, she’s struck by the all too familiar smell, recognisable by the subtle cologne that’s always laced inadvertently through the stitches.

“Say, Wormtail?” Sirius begins in teasing tone. “Do we know anyone who wears a lot of woolly jumpers?”

Before Peter can reply, or (Y/N) can smack Sirius on the back of the head they’re distracted by Remus and James’ arrival from across he room. James, shamelessly proud, stands beside Remus, who’s ears are suspcisiously red and who’s eyes have cast to the floor.

“Well, I can confidently announce this has been the best potions lesson ever.” James beams. “It’s very, very interesting.”

Sirius laughs at how (Y/N) shrinks sheepishly by his side, flinging an arm around her shoulder and fixing her with a smirk, that for a moment terrifies her, loaded with far too much knowledge and possible mischief.

“I wholeheartedly agree.”

“What did you smell?” (Y/N) jumps in, a question directed at James in an attempt to ease the growing nervous tension between them all. “Let me guess… Lilies?”

“Of course.” He grins. “What about you, (Y/N/N)?”

She should have anticipated this, for the question to be returned right back to her, though she was secretly hoping for him to begin one of his rants on Lily Evan’s perfection. She should have known better though, and she’s left gulping awkwardly.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” James asks. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm.”

“Funny.” James grins menacingly. “Remus smelt exactly the same thing… nothing.”

Life would be easier if she was able to leave the potions classroom that day and play the whole thing off as a fluke, if she could have left and accepted that she was just attracted to Remus Lupin and nothing more. However, life is never so obliging, and instead she spent the day slowly discovering just how much her friendly feelings for her bestfriend went beyond mere friendship.

Now, months later, she can confidently, with great pain, admit that she is undoubtedly in love with Remus Lupin, and has been for far longer than she’s ever realised. In a flurry of warm cheeks and grazed hands, feelings she never knew she had, have surfaced and decide to make her days an awkward hell.

Today though, sat beside him in transfiguration, it’s almost too much. Leaning into her, forearms pressed together and faces hung low together as he whispers helpful instructions into her ears, it’s all too much. She can’t hear a word he’s saying, only her heart in her chest, racing at their proximity, as if it’s not something they’ve always done before, made painful and awkward only by her newfound feelings.

It’s Sirius who pulls her out of it, nudging her leg with his own beneath the desk and drawing her gaze from the side of their friends face to his, blinking out of her daze. He offers a smile, one he tries to pull of as a grin, but even he’s beginning to grow worried about the whole thing.

So much so that as the class is dismissed, he holds back with her, sending their confused friends back to the dorm by themselves. The look he gets from (Y/N) is meant to be a glare, but it’s quick to fall into a defeated frown.

“Hey.” He starts softly once the classroom has fully emptied. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She mumbles.

“People in love are normally much more cheerful.“

She isn’t surprised by his awareness, but hearing it aloud startles her, the thought that was until now only her own, existing only to herself, suddenly so open to everyone.

“I doubt those people are in love with their bestfriends.” She sighs eventually. “Against all better judgement.”

Stacking her textbooks in her arms she leads them into the corridor with sigh, Sirius by her side. She wishes she could tell him she doesn’t want to talk about it, like any self-respecting person might. But she’s been longing to tell someone for weeks, although Sirius might not have been her first choice.

“Everything was fine.” She explains. “Then i smell his jumpers in a potion and suddenly i want to kiss him.”

“You really didn’t realise before?”

“Clearly not” She exhales.

They fall into a silence as they walk, and an optimistic part of her hopes Sirius is working hard by her side to concoct some groundbreaking advice, but she grows skeptic as they climb the steps towards the portrait door. Only once they are climbing through is his silence broken.

“If I’m being honest, (Y/N).” He starts. “It took you long enough- we’ve all known for ages.”

She pauses momentary to fix him a cold glare at which he shrinks momentarily. She narrows her eyes and furrows her brows.

“You’re bloody awful at this advice thing.” She explains. “I get it, i didn’t know but now I do- so will you just tell me what the hell i do now that i’m in love with my bestfriend.”

“Your’re what?”

Her head snaps around quickly to the choked out question, body jolting with recognition of the smooth voice. Remus stares at her wide eyed from the fireplace, a red colour blossoming on his cheeks.

“Remus.” (Y/N) squeaks. “How- How much of that did you hear?”

“A lot.”

By her side, rather nonchalantly, Sirius nudges her towards the shocked boy. Something in his flippant expression has her wondering if perhaps this was part of his plan, orchestrated the silence of their journey here.

“Oh no.” He says, fighting a smirk. “Maybe you should tell him what you smelt in the amortentia.”

A split decision is made that has her bounding up the girls dormitory staircase quickly. Firing herself on her mattress with a panicked squeal, followed swiftly by a groan. She flips herself onto her back and runs her finger frantically through her hair.

She’s barely enough time to figure out her plan of action before she can hear footsteps she knows are bound to be Remus’ ascending the stairs. He arrives in his doorway similarly disheveled, eyes still wide with surprise.

“What did you smell?” He asks.

“Remus…” (Y/N) sighs, sitting upright on her bed.

“What was Sirius talking about?” He asks. “Did you smell m-me?”

She gulps, meeting his eyes as they soften with her panicked look. They still hold that shocked glimmer to them, and something that seems hopeful to (Y/N), and strikes something similar in her chest for just a second.

“I smelt old books.” She starts. “Old books, hot chocolate and wooly jumpers…”

“Woolly jumpers ?”

She sighs in frustration, standing determinedly and striding a cross the room to her trunk, from which she pulls a warm coloured sweater, one of his . She tosses it at him in the door way, watching the recognition flicker across his features.

“I smelt your bloody jumpers, Remus.”

He stands there frozen for a minute, testifying article in his hands. In the quiet of the room, she can hear how his breath catches.

“I’ve been looking for this.”

“You’ve been- i just confessed my feelings for you.” She exclaims in surprise. “And that’s what you’re gonna say?”

“Freshly cut grass, campfires, ice tea.”

“What?”

“In the amortentia- i smelt freshly cut grass, campfires, ice tea.” He explains. “and your perfume.”

“My- my perfume?”

"You leave it all over my jumpers when you steal them.”

“I borrow them.”

“(Y/N).” He grins. “I just confessed my feeling for you and that’s what you’re gonna say?”

He chuckles, though his awkward blush remains. Realisation washes across her face slowly as she repeats it in her head.

“You smelt me?”

"Yes…”

“Bloody Hell.”

He lets out a laugh, striding forward and tossing his jumper to the side. She grins as his hands find her waist, pulling her in until she’s hitting his chest with a small thud.

“I have been falling for you for so long.” He admits, foreheads pressed together. “I didn’t even realise until that day in potions.”

“Me too.” She exhales giddily.

Her hands find the nape of his neck, pulling him in until they’re lips meet in a clumsy kiss. She expects it to feel strange, to be kissing someone who for so long has been only a friend, but instead it’s as if everything has fallen in to place finally, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They pull apart only when she can feel the beginning of a chuckle on his lips, pulling back to stare at him with a piqued brow as he bites back a laugh.

“What?”

“I’m just glad you nicked my jumper .”

“Listen, I borrowed them.”

“Fine.” He grins. “i’m glad you borrowed them.”

Her defensiveness eases and she shakes her head with a giggle, kissing him once again quickly and nodding in agreement.

“Me too, Rem.”

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obx-beach · 3 years

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rant >-<

tw: childhood trauma, drinking, alcoholics, mentions of cheating, etc. (even tho no one will read this I just want everyone to be safe <3)

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

i wish i trusted therapists or people with my issues cause i live in a household with alcoholic parents and when they fight it's really bad which I think in the long term will cause me bad ptsd and anxiety but tonight was a rlly bad episode for them cause my step-dad was trying to cheat on this girl who has a husband and 3 kids or something like that but it just got rlly out of hand and I've had like 2 panic attacks already but I just wish I could talk to ppl about this but I don't have any close friends and therapists are kinda scary but oh well >-<

#i haven't slept and i have school in 2hrs so ya #but when the drink it lasts for hours and it's multiple cases of beer to #*they #idk they've been drinking since like 10pm which isn't that long and it's already gotten out of hand #anyways ily all <3

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obx-beach · 3 years

Text

AWWWWWW🥺🥺🥺 i love remus (it's an unhealthy obsession) but this was so cute and so amazing (*＾ワ＾*）

Woolly Jumpers (Remus Lupin x Reader)

Warnings: Swearing (I think), my usual shitty writing etc etc

…

Warnings: Swearing (I think), my usual shitty writing etc etc

—

She’s still trying to dechipher the smells herself when Sirius’ elbow nudges gently against her side, drawing her attention from the potions itself to his waiting expression.

“What d'you smell?”

“Give her a chance, Padfoot.”

“I smell…” She starts. “Dusty books, hot chocolate and…”

Then, all at once she realises what it is, and why she’s confused.

“And?” Peter urges, strategically kind.

“Woolly jumpers” She gulps. “I think.”

“Woolly jumpers?” Sirius hums knowingly.

Yet her grey sweater still clings to her uncomfortably as it has all day, proving the potion correct where she wishes it were wrong. Sirius is staring at her, all to smug and knowing for her liking.

“What do you think that means?” He pushes. “Huh?”

“Say, Wormtail?” Sirius begins in teasing tone. “Do we know anyone who wears a lot of woolly jumpers?”

“Well, I can confidently announce this has been the best potions lesson ever.” James beams. “It’s very, very interesting.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.”

“What did you smell?” (Y/N) jumps in, a question directed at James in an attempt to ease the growing nervous tension between them all. “Let me guess… Lilies?”

“Of course.” He grins. “What about you, (Y/N/N)?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” James asks. “Is that so?”

“Mhmm.”

“Funny.” James grins menacingly. “Remus smelt exactly the same thing… nothing.”

“Hey.” He starts softly once the classroom has fully emptied. “You okay?”

“Fine.” She mumbles.

“People in love are normally much more cheerful."

She isn’t surprised by his awareness, but hearing it aloud startles her, the thought that was until now only her own, existing only to herself, suddenly so open to everyone.

"I doubt those people are in love with their bestfriends.” She sighs eventually. “Against all better judgement.”

“Everything was fine.” She explains. “Then i smell his jumpers in a potion and suddenly i want to kiss him.”

“You really didn’t realise before?”

“Clearly not” She exhales.

“If I’m being honest, (Y/N).” He starts. “It took you long enough- we’ve all known for ages.”

She pauses momentary to fix him a cold glare at which he shrinks momentarily. She narrows her eyes and furrows her brows.

“You’re bloody awful at this advice thing.” She explains. “I get it, i didn’t know but now I do- so will you just tell me what the hell i do now that i’m in love with my bestfriend.”

“Your’re what?”

Her head snaps around quickly to the choked out question, body jolting with recognition of the smooth voice. Remus stares at her wide eyed from the fireplace, a red colour blossoming on his cheeks.

“Remus.” (Y/N) squeaks. “How- How much of that did you hear?”

“A lot.”

“Oh no.” He says, fighting a smirk. “Maybe you should tell him what you smelt in the amortentia.”

“What did you smell?” He asks.

“Remus…” (Y/N) sighs, sitting upright on her bed.

“What was Sirius talking about?” He asks. “Did you smell m-me?”

“I smelt old books.” She starts. “Old books, hot chocolate and wooly jumpers…”

“Woolly jumpers ?”

“I smelt your bloody jumpers, Remus.”

He stands there frozen for a minute, testifying article in his hands. In the quiet of the room, she can hear how his breath catches.

“I’ve been looking for this.”

“You’ve been- i just confessed my feelings for you.” She exclaims in surprise. “And that’s what you’re gonna say?”

“Freshly cut grass, campfires, ice tea.”

“What?”

“In the amortentia- i smelt freshly cut grass, campfires, ice tea.” He explains. “and your perfume.”

“My- my perfume?”

"You leave it all over my jumpers when you steal them.”

“I borrow them.”

“(Y/N).” He grins. “I just confessed my feeling for you and that’s what you’re gonna say?”

He chuckles, though his awkward blush remains. Realisation washes across her face slowly as she repeats it in her head.

“You smelt me?”

"Yes…”

“Bloody Hell.”

He lets out a laugh, striding forward and tossing his jumper to the side. She grins as his hands find her waist, pulling her in until she’s hitting his chest with a small thud.

“I have been falling for you for so long.” He admits, foreheads pressed together. “I didn’t even realise until that day in potions.”

“Me too.” She exhales giddily.

They pull apart only when she can feel the beginning of a chuckle on his lips, pulling back to stare at him with a piqued brow as he bites back a laugh.

“What?”

“I’m just glad you nicked my jumper .”

“Listen, I borrowed them.”

“Fine.” He grins. “i’m glad you borrowed them.”

Her defensiveness eases and she shakes her head with a giggle, kissing him once again quickly and nodding in agreement.

“Me too, Rem.”

#ily <3 #and remus cause man he is something #but we don't talk about it

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obx-beach · 3 years

Text

i told myself no to read it and yet i still did :O

again my little fluffy heart can't take all this angst (ಥ﹏ಥ)

shadows on the bedroom ceiling (fred weasley x fem!reader)

description: the reader struggles to sleep alone after Fred’s death.

warnings: death, grief, loss of a loved one, angst

(a/n: first fred fic (probs more a blurb though lets be real), let me know what you think :))

#it's so good but so sad D:#thank you for this though #my heart needed to break a little bit to remind me fred's actually dead😭😭#i've been living in a au where fred doesn't die cause you know he doesn't obvi :D #also ily <3🥺

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obx-beach · 3 years

Text

omg what- my little fluffy heart can't take all this angst D:

changing seasons (george weasley x fem!reader)

changing seasons

description: adult relationships are complicated and painful, a fact George and the reader now far too well

warnings: angst, a fleeting allusion to smut, brief passing mentions of food.

a/n: excuse any typos, i wrote this as 3am and wasnt wearing glasses.

…

Today she appears in the shop, grinning at him from the door and waving dramatically at him. He’s barely out from behind the till before she’s launching herself into his arms with a squeal.

“George!” She exclaims. “I’ve missed you!”

He takes a second to respond, dazed again as he usually is by her sudden appearances. He waits until he’s placing her down on the ground again to answer with a smile.

“I’ve missed you too, (Y/N).” He chuckles. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“The shop or the country?”

“Both.” He snorts.

“Well, as MACUSA recognises my top notch auror qualities, they’ve rewarded me a holiday and i figured the best place to spend it would be with my favourite red head”

“Don’t let Fred hear you say that.” He jokes. “You’ll bruise his ego.”

“You appear to be running the shop on your own today.” She observes. “Plus he could do with his ego being taken down a few.”

“He’s out on a lunch date with Angelina.” George informs. “He’ll be back soon for you to bully.”

“The excitement is killing me already.”

“Listen, the afternoon rush is about to start…” He admits once pulling away. “You can wait upstairs if you like.”

“That sounds great.”

“You can help yourself to anything in the kitchen.” He assures. “Most of its Fred’s.”

“It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be here, Georgie.”

…

“How was your shift?”

“Grueling.” He confesses with a chuckle. “Did you steal all the biscuits?”

“Only the ones I like.”

They wouldn’t trade it though, not the conversation, the cuddles or the kisses, for a anything else the world could give them.

“Thank you for always being here for me whenever i get back.” She whispers into the quiet apartment. “You’re the best.”

“Anything.” He exhales. “Anything for you, (Y/N).”

…

However, an adult life of work calls for her in the states, and has her reluctantly turning her back on George, sleeping soundly, oblivious to her departure as she creeps down the hall.

“You’re away again.”

It’s not a question, but a painful truth to which she can only nod and drop her eyes guiltily. Fred sighs loudly, shaking his head in disapproval.

“I’m sorry.” She exhales. “I don’t like leaving.”

“Why do you?”

“I have work, Freddie.” She sighs. “You know how hard i worked for this job and I can’t lose it-“

“But you’re quite happy to lose him.”

“That’s what’s going to happen though.” He continues. “He’s going to get fed up of the week long visits and shitty letters.”

“It’s a demanding job-“

“I can’t give him up.” She informs guiltily. “It’s selfish and hurts to leave but i can’t give him up.”

“I love him, Fred.”

“I know.”

“I’ve never loved anything as much as i love him.” She elaborates, though muffled my Fred’s shirt. “Leaving him hurts every time, but it would hurt more to say goodbye for good.”

“You need to make a decision.” Fred explains, pulling back to fix her a more sympathetic look. “If you love him as much as you say you do, you have to leave and stop coming back.”

Her breath catches with a chocked gasp, she blinks up at him, expelling fat tears that roll down her cheeks and his the wooden floor.

“You can’t keep stringing him out the way you are.” He says. “Because the more you leave the worse it gets.”

“Tell him I’m sorry.” She pleads. “Tell him that i love him.”

“Okay.” Fred nods. “I will.”

“Thank you…” She whispers shakily.

“I know.” He assures.

“Bye, Fred.” She says finally. “I-“

“I know you didn’t mean to hurt him.” Fred reassures. “Life got complicated after Hogwarts.”

“That’s one way of saying it.” She sniffles.

“He loves you too.”

She can only nod again, taking a deep breath as she steps from the apartment. Fred watched her go, heart pounding from what he’s just done, the inevitable the couple has been putting off until now.

He’s shutting the door when he hears footsteps behind him, turning to George, store triedly with a knowing look in his eyes.

“She’s gone.”

“I don’t think she’s coming back.” Fred admits. “I’m sorry, George.”

George shakes his head, shoving his hands into his pockets and holding his shoulders high to come across as unbothered as his brother comes toward him.

“She said she’s sorry.” Fred continues. “And that she loves you.”

Clapping a hand in his brother’s shoulder, Fred passed by him to put the kettle on for a warm drink. George stands crestfallen in the hallway staring at the shut door she’s just left.

He’ll miss her like the heat of the sun on a cold autumn evening, he always does, but where there was always the anticipation of spring to come, there is only the dread of long cold nights alone.

#the writing is immaculate tho #i'm crying so hard rn😭#oh no #it's so good but so sad #bitch i would've just given up the job #like george weasley or a job?!#the answer is obvious🤧

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