Summary: Being in love with your coworker is an HR nightmare. Being in love with Spencer Reid is somehow worse.
Tags: fluff, reader is in denial (aren't we all), workplace romance, friends to lovers, mutual pinning, they both have it bad for each other, idiots in love, slow burn
w/c: 1.2k
Notes: Hey, so this lowkey might turn into a mini series cus I have so many ideas for this dynamic. If you enjoy pls interact; it's greatly appreciated (pls lets bring back old fandom culture)
The LAPD precinct was chilly as the AC continued to blast, little goosebumps forming along the exposed skin of your arms, the end of a pen lolling near your mouth. Your eyes were fixated on the open villain folder, images of a brutally murdered woman filling your peripheral vision. With a long exhale, muttering under your breath, “ Insecure men…”
Reid perked up from where he sat beside you. Leaning over awkwardly, desk chair creaking as he tried to get a better look at whatever was upsetting you. “Insecure men?”
“No offence, but your kind is a blight on the world”
“None taken.” He glanced quickly from the folder back up to your face with that stupid smile of his, catching on quickly. That was the problem with Spencer; he was bright, too bright. He caught every bit of nuance in as little as a single conversation, his brain working overtime to understand everyone around him— including you.
Even with the team's “no profiling” rule, he saw through you: extending kindness when he didn't have to, remembering coffee orders and the time you usually got to work.
“Another day, another case of a sad, lonely white dude getting off by killing innocent women. Honestly, if I had a penny for every case like this we've worked, I’d be able to retire early.”
Reid leaned back in his chair, adjusting his glasses before speaking, "There's actually a psychological phenomenon called aggrieved entitlement. It's when someone believes they're owed status, affection, or attention, and when reality doesn't match that expectation, some individuals externalize the blame. In extreme cases, that resentment can escalate into targeted violence." His hands wandered as he spoke, animating whatever it was he saw in his head.
Blinking at him for a moment, the silence settling.
"Sorry, I'm trying to be more conversational.” He squeaked out that last part. Avoiding eye contact, he tried to busy himself with a notebook that lay forgotten in our little corner of the table.
Swerving in your chair, back now facing Spencer, you made your way over to the evidence board. “Huh… well, it's not working, but I applaud your effort.”
That’s the other thing that pissed you off about Spencer: for all he makes up for in book smarts, he lacks in social skills. This six-foot-tall grown man was the embodiment of Bambi: skittish, clumsy, shy with big brown eyes. Incredibly inconvenient for you, your mind had recently developed the annoying habit of wandering whenever Spencer Reid was involved.
Makes you wonder what he’d look like on his knees—God, you were no better than a man.
Without realizing it, your gaze had drifted over your shoulder. Watching the boy genius fuss over his notes: fidgeting with his fingers, tapping them against his temple, bottom lip caught between his teeth.
You wouldn't go as far as to say you had a crush on Spencer; you were just co-workers.
Co-workers who flirt constantly and happen to go on coffee dates.
Besides, you were almost certain Hotch didn't want to deal with whatever HR nightmare you two had going on. His attention preoccupied with Morgan and Garcia’s not-so-workplace-friendly commentary. That, however, doesn't mean you couldn't appreciate the piece of eye candy, that is Dr. Reid. There was no harm in it, especially since it went right over his head.
Having yet to decide if that’s a good or bad thing.
“You're cold…” The words cut through your daze, pulling you back to reality.
“Sorry?”
Spencer shifted his eyes, meeting you halfway. “You have goose bumps all over your arms, and you're currently crossing them over your chest in order to maintain your core body temperature.”
He absentmindedly picked up an image from the evidence folder, flipping it once between his fingers before making his way around the table to the board.
Looking down at your arms, which were in fact crossed over your chest, a strange warmth bubbled somewhere deep within you. Normally you’d wear shirts with sleeves to work or, at the very least, bring some kind of cover-up. You meant to take one with you this morning. You really did, but had forgotten it in the hotel room, leaving you in your current predicament of dress pants and a tank top.
“My bad for assuming it's gonna be hot in LA,” you teased, a smirk plastered on your face.
Stepping up beside you, he spoke in an almost hesitant voice. “You can take my cardigan if you're cold; it's on the back of that chair.” He nodded to the right, leading your eyes along to the chair in question. The room was tense for a moment as his offer buzzed in your head; you were cold, but you also had dignity, and Morgan would never let you live this down.
“Thanks for the offer, Reid, but I'm good.” Plucking the picture from his hand, you grabbed a thumbtack off the board. You could feel the shift in his demeanour; his shoulders sank almost imperceptibly as he turned.
Sparring him no attention, almost missing the flush that rose over his ears and the tip of his nose. Silence washed over the room as the picture left your thumb and index finger. Taking a step back, side by side with Spencer, his eyes scanning the board in its entirety.
You almost felt bad. You knew he meant well. It's not his fault you're having an internal battle of how long Morgan will dangle pretty boy's cardigan over your head.
He looked like a kicked puppy; it made you almost regret saying no.
“I’m glad you're not like them.” The words were almost a whisper as they left your lips. Spencer tilted his head in your direction, a question already bubbling behind his eyes.
“Insecure, that is. You don't care what other people think of you; you are unapologetically yourself … It's admirable.”
His eyes softened for a moment, the discouragement of his rejected offer no longer lingering in the forefront of his mind. “Well, I'm not the greatest at pretending to be anyone else, but I'll take it as a compliment.”
“Spencer, promise me not to be anyone else.” Finally, turning to look at him face to face, you felt a fading unease awaiting his reaction.
He looked at you, really looked at you, as if you were another piece of evidence he had just been handed.
You were gonna throw up... Why did his gaze do this to you?
“I won’t,” he nodded along, almost satisfied. Unfortunately, the moment didn't last long as Emily barged into the conference room spewing words your brain was not processing.
She paused abruptly, giving the two of you a double-take.
“Am I interrupting something? …”
Putting as much distance between yourself and Spencer as you physically could, you blurted, "What? No, no—we were just talking about the case... You know what? Never mind."
Emily nodded, unconvinced, "Well... Hotch and the others are on their way back—"
Spencer thankfully opened his mouth before you could embarrass yourself any further, gathering the pile of notes on the desk. “Thanks, Emily. We'll gather what we got so far, and we'll meet you there.”
“Thanks, Reid,” you sputtered out. Heat rushed to your face as you escaped into the hallway. Behind you, Spencer chuckled quietly to himself.
idk if ur requests are open but could i request a sirius x reader who fight(playfully) ALL THE TIME, and its to the point that people think they dont even like each other but its actually the opposite
btw i love all ur ficss
Thank you for requesting lovely!
cw: domestic squabbling
a/n: Please do not misconstrue my participation in the marauders fandom as support of JKR. If you’re new here and want to participate in the fandom, I encourage you to do so without participating in anything that would provide financial gain to her or her transphobic agendas
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 801 words
Sirius’ eyes are flinty, boring into you. “Tell the truth.”
“I am,” you say evenly. “I. Don’t. Care.”
He scoffs and crosses his arms. “You’re such a fucking liar.”
“Can you not curse at me in public?”
“Maybe once you stop being so stubborn.”
You glare at him. Between you, a dessert menu sits on the table. You’re both keeping away from it like it’d be a concession to touch.
“What about you?” You try to turn the argument around on your boyfriend. “I know you don’t want the apple crumble, because of your thing with warm fruit—”
“Warm fruit?” Lily asks. You’d nearly forgotten she was there. Only Sirius can wind you up so badly you forget to be conscious of the four other people at the table with you.
“He won’t eat any fruit that’s been warmed,” you explain to Lily. You side-eye Sirius and add, with disdain, “It’s a sickness.”
James and Regulus both nod to confirm this assessment.
Sirius spreads his hands in a show of benevolence. “If you want the apple crumble so badly, let’s get it.”
“No,” you insist, “the point is to get something we both like.”
You jolt a little as, under the table, Sirius hooks an ankle behind yours and tugs playfully. “Stubborn,” he teases.
“You’re stubborn.”
“What a creative deflection.”
You feel your features harden. “Fine. Whatever, let’s forget about dessert.”
Sirius makes a bewildered choking sound, like the mere suggestion is heresy. “Don’t bullshit me,” he says. “I know you want dessert. You were eyeing that menu all of dinner.”
“Well, now I don’t.”
“You absolute—”
“Why don’t you each get your own dessert?” interrupts Lily, clearly desperate for peace. You feel guilty at distressing her; you and Sirius’ bickering isn’t so severe as to warrant that. But you can’t think of a nice way to tell her that she doesn’t need to get involved.
Sirius, perhaps thinking the same thing, sighs laboriously. “We can’t,” he tells her.
“Why not?”
“Because, she won’t eat all of hers—”
“They’re big portions,” you defend yourself.
“—and then we’ll end up taking it home, where it will sit in the fridge, and she’ll say I can have it, even though she really wants it herself—”
“No, you could have it, but he always forgets about it—”
“—and then eventually it goes bad, which is somehow my fault.”
A twinge of genuine irritation goes through you as you remember your moldy chocolate cake from two weeks ago. “It’s your fault because you say you’ll eat it and then you don’t.”
“Sort of like you when you order it in the first place,” Sirius hums. And you know he’s only winding you up for fun, but you must have a dangerous look on your face, because your boyfriend’s demeanor shifts. He reaches for your hand on the table, threading your fingers together. “Lovely, just tell me what you want to have. We’re frightening Mary.”
“Oh no, don’t stop on my account,” says Mary, looking thoroughly entertained in her seat next to Lily, who’s faring considerably less well.
“I would be happy with any of them,” you emphasize.
Sirius rolls his eyes so hard it looks like it hurts. “Alright, sure, but you want something chocolate, don’t you?”
You frown. Because Sirius is trying to corner you into making the decision, and not at all because he knows you too well. “I wouldn’t mind it, I guess.”
“Right, so if I said I was between the brownie sundae and the lava cake, would you be able to choose between those?”
You study Sirius’ face, trying to pick out the secret preference you know he’s hiding from you. His eyes glint and his mouth is tamped into seriousness, but those clues only lead to what you already know: he’s having a grand time goading you.
“I’d want the lava cake,” you relent.
You’re rewarded by a smacking kiss on your cheek, distracting enough that no one else notices when Sirius’ hand slips beneath the table to squeeze your leg. “Attagirl. Knew you could do it.”
You roll your eyes. “Don’t fucking condescend to me.”
“Remind me, who was it that had qualms with cursing at each other in public?”
You roll your eyes harder. Regulus catches your gaze partway through its trajectory. “Blink twice if you need out of this relationship,” he offers seriously.
Sirius makes an indignant squawking sound, using an arm around your waist to pull you halfway into his chair as though to keep you from getting away. You smile at Regulus apologetically, your face beginning to burn in the aftermath of your squabble.
“Don’t worry about it, love,” James tells him. “This is foreplay for them.”
Regulus makes a noise of surprised revulsion. Sirius kisses your cheek again when it burns too hot.
Spencer Reid never thought his job at the BAU would allow him to get a stable relationship. His only examples were Rossi and his never-ending list of wives and Hotch that had gotten a divorce. Well there was JJ but her husband had the same kind of job so he’d get it. And yet… he had found you.
Sweetest girl he had met, with a grin that could light up the whole room. As soon as he had met you, he had been sure you were the one. Never once had he felt bad around you. Often in his life, he had felt like he didn’t fit in. People would laugh and he didn’t know if they laughed with him or at him. But not even one time you had made him feel like he was an outsider.
Even when he met your friends, he saw the way you would nudge your best friend’s feet so she’d shut up and let him talk. He hadn’t said anything, but oh boy had he noticed. It was his job after all.
A job that took all his time and that he had a hard time detaching himself from on his days off. Until you walked in. Sweet words in his ear after a bad case, the lights still on if you knew he’d be back in the middle of the night, fresh meals waiting for him in the fridge.
He felt guilty sometimes, all the comforting little things you did and that made him feel like he’d known you for ages while all he had to give was quick phone calls and a kiss on your forehead when he got home to you already asleep.
Tonight was no different. It was almost midnight, earlier than most of the time he’d been away on cases but still past your bedtime. As always, you had left the small warm lamp on in the living room. It was actually the light you had gotten him for his birthday, so he could read at night without destroying his eyesight.
The sole sight of it brought back the memory and made him smile. You had been thoughtful since the beginning of the relationship, he never had to hope you’d get him. Because you just did, right from the first date.
Spencer yawned. He couldn’t wait to get into bed. Next to you.
The man wasn’t the biggest fan of physical touch, but when it came to you… He hadn’t held you for three days and it was way too much already. He let his tired feet drag him to the kitchen. Another small light was on, leading him to the fridge.
Spencer opened it, the small electric hum was now the only sound filling the silent apartment. His lips tugged into a smile as he saw a meal waiting for him. You had taken the habit of cooking for two even when you were alone so he wouldn’t have to when he’d come back.
‘Lasagna for you (and i mean for you because i didn’t put the bechamel because i know you hate it) <3’
After heating up his dinner, he ate it alone on the sofa. There was truly no other place he’d rather call home. You had made silence and gloomy nights that he used to dread into quiet and peaceful moments just by sparkling your presence. It was the blanket you had spent hours crocheting, it was in the ugly drawing you had made of him on the napkin on your first date and that you insisted on putting up on the wall. The ugly socks you got him on valentine’s day. The flowers he had gotten you for your first month anniversary that you had carefully dried and were now on top of the fireplace.
All these pieces of you, he was now a mosaic of every little thing you had ever loved, your apartment a testimony of the phenomenon.
He quickly washed the plate. Then quickly washed himself, the warm water relaxing his sore muscles. And finally, he could reach for what he had desired for days, counting hours on the jet… you.
You were there, already asleep, curled up on your side of the bed. He quietly walked up to you, his lips attaching to the crown of your head.
“Mmh,” you mumbled as the simple contact was enough to wake you up. You slowly opened your eyes “Spence”
Spencer sat on the side of the bed, his fingers found your hair “Hi, angel.” His voice was soft, draping over you like a blanket. He kept it low, not wanting to put you out of your sleepy state, even though he knew you’d want to talk, like always..
Work would tint his life gray but just the thought of you, your little texts and notes, were enough to make him glow enough until the case was over. And every time he could be next to you, it was like he finally saw the world in colour again.
“How was the case?” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his middle, your head finding the crook of his neck. You took in the scent of the soap he used, you had missed it. You sometimes used it when he was gone for too long, but it wasn’t the same as when it was mixed with the smell of his skin.
His fingers played with the baby hair on the nape of your neck “Good, we managed to catch the unsub and found the victim alive.”
You smiled, knowing how much these cases were rare “You can sleep peacefully now”
Spencer chuckled, “Is that an invitation?”
“Please”
Spencer laid down on his side of the bed. You immediately clung closer. You knew Spencer and his genius brain would have found a way to melt the two of you together if it were physically possible.
He let his head fall on your chest. With his ear pressed against your sternum, he listened to your heartbeat. He had lived through so many losses on the workfield, he had to ground himself into what was there. And you always were.
74 beats per minute was your average, though you were a little calmer tonight with a 71. His finger was tapping on your skin at each heartbeat.
“I don’t know how it relaxes you,” you whispered “Every time I hear your heart beat I feel like it’s gonna burst out of your chest and it scares me.”
Spencer chuckled, the sound resonating in your chest. “Well I do feel like I have a heart attack every time you’re around,” he said with a small grin.
You shook your head “Cheesy”
“Can’t help it”
Ah-ha. 91 beats per minute now. And yet you were pretending not to be flustered. Slowly, he heard your heart slow down, until you were asleep beneath him. There was nothing in the world he would trade against this.
Tired, he still spent some time watching you sleep. He had waited that time for days and didn’t know if he’d be around the following night, so he took it in. The slight crease between your brows, the ways your lips parted, the rise and fall of your chest, your fingers that had slipped beneath his shirt and that left a hot trail on his skin...
//
Spencer woke up before you in the morning. He could sleep in a bit more, but he wanted to pay back what you had given last night. He slipped out of bed after leaving a kiss on your temple.
He had 23 minutes before you’d wake up, which meant 36 minutes before you’d actually get up, as you liked to linger in bed as much as you could. That gave enough time to prepare your breakfast.
He was by no means the best at cooking, but over the endless brunches the two of you had, he had mastered a pancake recipe. He got to work, and let out a small ‘tsk’ when he heard you wake up 8 minutes before his schedule. He wouldn’t have time to prepare your coffee before you’d get up if you kept this unusual pace.
He was just pouring the coffee into the mug, filled with ice and a dash of vanilla syrup, when he heard your footsteps growing louder.
“Spencer?” you said before letting out a long yawn “Why-” another yawn “Why aren’t you in bed? You barely got six hours of sleep”
“I wanted to make you breakfast” He simply answered as he topped your coffee with the cold milk.
You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek to his back “You didn’t have to”
“Which is exactly why I do it. Just like you don’t have to prepare my meals, or leave the lights on,” he said.
Spencer turned around, handing you your coffee. He had watched you prepare it once before you were even dating and had remembered it since. You took a sip “Mmh”
With your hip against the countertop, you watch him lay two plates on your small round dinner table. “Take a seat”
So you did. “I like this,” you said
“The pancakes?”
“Eating breakfast together, we don’t do it as much as I’d like”
That was such a simple sentence and yet it was enough to make his cheeks redden. But that was the small things he lived for now. His eyes found his plate for a second. You may have been dating for more than two years, some things never went away. And blushing when you made any sort of compliment was one of them.
“96?”
Spencer looked up, confused “What do you mean, 96?”
“Isn’t it your heartbeat right now?” you smirked.
Yeah, there was definitely nothing that he’d change in his life. Every time, in every universe, he’d take a quiet life with you.
Spencer Reid never thought his job at the BAU would allow him to get a stable relationship. His only examples were Rossi and his never-ending list of wives and Hotch that had gotten a divorce. Well there was JJ but her husband had the same kind of job so he’d get it. And yet… he had found you.
Sweetest girl he had met, with a grin that could light up the whole room. As soon as he had met you, he had been sure you were the one. Never once had he felt bad around you. Often in his life, he had felt like he didn’t fit in. People would laugh and he didn’t know if they laughed with him or at him. But not even one time you had made him feel like he was an outsider.
Even when he met your friends, he saw the way you would nudge your best friend’s feet so she’d shut up and let him talk. He hadn’t said anything, but oh boy had he noticed. It was his job after all.
A job that took all his time and that he had a hard time detaching himself from on his days off. Until you walked in. Sweet words in his ear after a bad case, the lights still on if you knew he’d be back in the middle of the night, fresh meals waiting for him in the fridge.
He felt guilty sometimes, all the comforting little things you did and that made him feel like he’d known you for ages while all he had to give was quick phone calls and a kiss on your forehead when he got home to you already asleep.
Tonight was no different. It was almost midnight, earlier than most of the time he’d been away on cases but still past your bedtime. As always, you had left the small warm lamp on in the living room. It was actually the light you had gotten him for his birthday, so he could read at night without destroying his eyesight.
The sole sight of it brought back the memory and made him smile. You had been thoughtful since the beginning of the relationship, he never had to hope you’d get him. Because you just did, right from the first date.
Spencer yawned. He couldn’t wait to get into bed. Next to you.
The man wasn’t the biggest fan of physical touch, but when it came to you… He hadn’t held you for three days and it was way too much already. He let his tired feet drag him to the kitchen. Another small light was on, leading him to the fridge.
Spencer opened it, the small electric hum was now the only sound filling the silent apartment. His lips tugged into a smile as he saw a meal waiting for him. You had taken the habit of cooking for two even when you were alone so he wouldn’t have to when he’d come back.
‘Lasagna for you (and i mean for you because i didn’t put the bechamel because i know you hate it) <3’
After heating up his dinner, he ate it alone on the sofa. There was truly no other place he’d rather call home. You had made silence and gloomy nights that he used to dread into quiet and peaceful moments just by sparkling your presence. It was the blanket you had spent hours crocheting, it was in the ugly drawing you had made of him on the napkin on your first date and that you insisted on putting up on the wall. The ugly socks you got him on valentine’s day. The flowers he had gotten you for your first month anniversary that you had carefully dried and were now on top of the fireplace.
All these pieces of you, he was now a mosaic of every little thing you had ever loved, your apartment a testimony of the phenomenon.
He quickly washed the plate. Then quickly washed himself, the warm water relaxing his sore muscles. And finally, he could reach for what he had desired for days, counting hours on the jet… you.
You were there, already asleep, curled up on your side of the bed. He quietly walked up to you, his lips attaching to the crown of your head.
“Mmh,” you mumbled as the simple contact was enough to wake you up. You slowly opened your eyes “Spence”
Spencer sat on the side of the bed, his fingers found your hair “Hi, angel.” His voice was soft, draping over you like a blanket. He kept it low, not wanting to put you out of your sleepy state, even though he knew you’d want to talk, like always..
Work would tint his life gray but just the thought of you, your little texts and notes, were enough to make him glow enough until the case was over. And every time he could be next to you, it was like he finally saw the world in colour again.
“How was the case?” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his middle, your head finding the crook of his neck. You took in the scent of the soap he used, you had missed it. You sometimes used it when he was gone for too long, but it wasn’t the same as when it was mixed with the smell of his skin.
His fingers played with the baby hair on the nape of your neck “Good, we managed to catch the unsub and found the victim alive.”
You smiled, knowing how much these cases were rare “You can sleep peacefully now”
Spencer chuckled, “Is that an invitation?”
“Please”
Spencer laid down on his side of the bed. You immediately clung closer. You knew Spencer and his genius brain would have found a way to melt the two of you together if it were physically possible.
He let his head fall on your chest. With his ear pressed against your sternum, he listened to your heartbeat. He had lived through so many losses on the workfield, he had to ground himself into what was there. And you always were.
74 beats per minute was your average, though you were a little calmer tonight with a 71. His finger was tapping on your skin at each heartbeat.
“I don’t know how it relaxes you,” you whispered “Every time I hear your heart beat I feel like it’s gonna burst out of your chest and it scares me.”
Spencer chuckled, the sound resonating in your chest. “Well I do feel like I have a heart attack every time you’re around,” he said with a small grin.
You shook your head “Cheesy”
“Can’t help it”
Ah-ha. 91 beats per minute now. And yet you were pretending not to be flustered. Slowly, he heard your heart slow down, until you were asleep beneath him. There was nothing in the world he would trade against this.
Tired, he still spent some time watching you sleep. He had waited that time for days and didn’t know if he’d be around the following night, so he took it in. The slight crease between your brows, the ways your lips parted, the rise and fall of your chest, your fingers that had slipped beneath his shirt and that left a hot trail on his skin...
//
Spencer woke up before you in the morning. He could sleep in a bit more, but he wanted to pay back what you had given last night. He slipped out of bed after leaving a kiss on your temple.
He had 23 minutes before you’d wake up, which meant 36 minutes before you’d actually get up, as you liked to linger in bed as much as you could. That gave enough time to prepare your breakfast.
He was by no means the best at cooking, but over the endless brunches the two of you had, he had mastered a pancake recipe. He got to work, and let out a small ‘tsk’ when he heard you wake up 8 minutes before his schedule. He wouldn’t have time to prepare your coffee before you’d get up if you kept this unusual pace.
He was just pouring the coffee into the mug, filled with ice and a dash of vanilla syrup, when he heard your footsteps growing louder.
“Spencer?” you said before letting out a long yawn “Why-” another yawn “Why aren’t you in bed? You barely got six hours of sleep”
“I wanted to make you breakfast” He simply answered as he topped your coffee with the cold milk.
You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek to his back “You didn’t have to”
“Which is exactly why I do it. Just like you don’t have to prepare my meals, or leave the lights on,” he said.
Spencer turned around, handing you your coffee. He had watched you prepare it once before you were even dating and had remembered it since. You took a sip “Mmh”
With your hip against the countertop, you watch him lay two plates on your small round dinner table. “Take a seat”
So you did. “I like this,” you said
“The pancakes?”
“Eating breakfast together, we don’t do it as much as I’d like”
That was such a simple sentence and yet it was enough to make his cheeks redden. But that was the small things he lived for now. His eyes found his plate for a second. You may have been dating for more than two years, some things never went away. And blushing when you made any sort of compliment was one of them.
“96?”
Spencer looked up, confused “What do you mean, 96?”
“Isn’t it your heartbeat right now?” you smirked.
Yeah, there was definitely nothing that he’d change in his life. Every time, in every universe, he’d take a quiet life with you.
─── ✷ SHE'S THUNDERSTORMS . george weasley x fem!reader
you have a loud mouth, luckily it comes in handy when defending your boyfriend ; cw. fluff , established relationship , people being mean about george , reader is mentioned to be loud & bossy ; words. 1.1k
author's note ⌇ hellooo george weasley girlies, the previous blurb i wrote for him has gained some traction so here's another short blurb! likes and reblogs are much appreciated— my taglist is open for george btw :)
fred and george. that's the known order of their names, fred's name first, then george. it was an unsaid habit everybody silently agreed to, it was easier to pronounce, a lot catchier on the tongue. the twin's title became their brand, and with that meant everybody knew fred first before george's name landed in their mouths. george didn't make a fuss about it, besides, they came in a pack, at some point his name will roll in along just as well, equally enough. though— it'd be nice if someone saw him first.
you did. you saw george weasley first. you became easily drawn towards him. they were identical twins, you knew, but the moment your eyes laid on george weasley the differences became significant. he was the twin who'd be more careful when messing around with new students or professors, the one who'd actually do his missing paper works after absent classes, the one who'd gently smiled at you— that's how you noticed his lips were slightly more curved than his twin.
his nose slants down at the tip, you noticed the first time he laughed at your obnoxious joke during class. unlike anyone else, you felt like you didn't have to dim your light or lower your voice when you're around him— george felt like he didn't have to brighten his light around you to be noticed. it was as if the stars had tied you two together. a relationship slowly bloomed after a long phase of stealing glances, passing notes, silently laughing at each other's jokes from afar, accidental touches, and unexpected meet-ups late at night after sneaking out of curfew.
you've also successfully gained a pass from not getting pranked by the twins. which roughly translated to george has cheekily mastered charms overnight and made sure every prank moving forward will not directly affect you nor your schedule. you were grateful for him, and he couldn't ask for a more perfect girlfriend. you helped him initiate new tricks and quips for pranks, taught him materials he had missed out because of detention, you brought the loud-ness he needed when things became quiet— that was a trait of yours he liked. you knew how to be talkative, you knew how to stand your ground, you knew how to listen and when to not accept other people's dirt. you couldn't be stepped on. he liked that, maybe a bit too much.
you knew a saying that spread around the castle from time to time. a word that was passed onto others without much critical thinking. george had told you plenty of times until you unfortunately could not keep up. people compared them, you knew that long before, just never knew how bad it was until you heard it yourself. just this morning whilst you were passing a group of people slightly older than you— though their personalities showed no real signs of maturity. "i mean, they are called fred and george for a reason, no? fred then george," one whispered just loud enough for you to hear. the group snickered, "he has half of fred's charm. and i'm being generous. if anything, fred's the interesting one," he added.
those two sentences were carved into your head for the rest of the day. it simmered deep into your skin. until, by some miracle, you spotted the same group crossing the courtyard, unguarded. you could just leave them alone and let the universe curse them until their next lineage, but you could definitely do it better, and faster. you walked towards them, "oi!" the group turned, a whistle went your way. merlin, you wanted to throw a silencing charm and call it a day— "could we help you, gorgeous?" you figured that was the same person who made the comment earlier that day, based off the annoying amount of ego he held.
"oh, piss off," you scoffed, the tone had set the scene. "she's quite feisty!" a voice from the group yelled, "care to repeat what you said this morning?" you questioned, tilting your head towards the boy. he shook his head in practiced confusion, "funny, i don't really recall,"— you folded your arms. the group shared nervous glances as their friend stand face-to-face with you. "interesting, you had a lot to say about my boyfriend when he wasn't around, that ring a bell or two?" a crowd of students slowly gathered nearby. it wasn't unusual to hear your voice from halfway across the grounds.
"tell me, what makes george less than his brother?"
"i don't exactly remember what i said,"
"that's convenient,"
the boy opened his mouth, though, nothing came out. you furrowed your brows at him, waiting until the silence turned uncomfortable. around you, students watched without switching their view. eventually, the boy spoke a sentence, "i just said fred's the interesting one,"
"and george isn't? you don't even know them do you?" he awkwardly shifted his head, a gesture signaling that he hardly knew them. from afar, george had joined the crowd. observing with his eyes full of admiration and a tablespoon of fear. you continued, "you are so shallow, truly. do you have any other businesses to attend to other than talking about a complete pair of strangers who would never, ever, speak to you? you couldn't even dream of it," you didn't let him let another word to you.
"you folks just assume you know it all. a pair of twins don't equal to the same person. he has qualities you clearly lack. if you only see things from a superficial view, that's just a pathetic way of concluding something," you let a sigh out, deeper than expected. you were disappointed to know this was not the first time someone has talked about your boyfriend in this type of manner. the boy collected himself again and let out a scoff, "i don't particularly care, why has he gotten a personal spokesperson anyway?"— "i'm his girlfriend, idiot, it's a bit different. you wouldn't know what that's like, would you?"
that seemed to shut him up. he looked away for a moment before muttering something under his breath, earning a small laugh from one of his own friends instead. that's sad, you thought. it's funny how quickly someone can lose conviction once they're confronted. unfortunately to you, and fortunately enough for him, the time was cut short by a professor's voice calling across the courtyard. ushering the crowd to move along before whatever this was turned into something more. you dramatically frown as the students dispersed, throwing the boy one last look before turning away yourself.
only then you noticed george.
you realized he arrived amidst it. his brother was leaning on a pillar a few steps back, grinning from ear to ear. george, meanwhile, looked completely stunned, as if he'd just witnessed something he couldn't quite believe. "blimey," he managed, almost stuttering. you turned to him, "what?"
he reached for your hand almost absentmindedly, eyes locked looking at yours, smiling in the way that melted you most. you shoot him an innocent smile. "you know.. you can boss me around whenever you'd like,"
When Neil asked you to join his friends for the night, you didn’t think of this. You had met him during a theatre rehearsal and quickly got along. And tonight you were finally meeting his friends.
You thought of a party or something, not a… meeting in a cave?
You weren’t complaining though, his friends were sweet and the mood was light and fun. The boys read poems and Neil insisted that you had to read one, too. So you grabbed the copy in his hands and browsed through the pages before finally picking one.
“So… I just read it?” you asked, not really knowing if anything else was needed to do.
Neil offered you an encouraging smile, “Yeah,” he said “Just go for it.”
You cleared your throat “Shapes and Signs,” you announced, eyes darting in the room to watch everyone’s reaction.
“I see black dragons mount the sky,
I see earth yawn beneath my feet —
I feel within the asp, the worm
That will not sleep and cannot die,
Fair though may show the winding-sheet!”
You finished reading the poem and the boys clapped and cheered “See? Wasn’t so bad” Neil grinned.
“Neil’s new friend’s a real poet,” Charlie teased and you rolled your eyes.
You watched, amused, as the whole group started to talk and tease each other. This went on for a little while until Charlie got up. The bottle of alcohol you had brought (which was already open because you stole it from your parents) was empty and in his hands.
“Now… We’re going to do something a little different…”
You all looked at him, intrigued “What?” Knox asked.
Charlie placed the bottle in the centre of the circle the whole group formed, “Truth or dare,” he grinned. You could hear some of the boys groaning in annoyance or whining but Neil chuckled by your side.
Charlie spun the bottle, it landed on Todd. “Truth or dare?” Charlie asked with a smirk
“Uhm… truth,” Todd mumbled.
“Have you had your first kiss yet?” Todd’s cheek turned red, and he shook his head “Alright, alright,” Charlie chuckled. Todd spun the bottle and the game kept going.
After a few rounds and weird imitations, the bottle landed on you. It had landed on Charlie the turn before so he was the one asking “Truth or dare?” he asked mischievously.
You thought about it for a moment, most had chosen truth and you wanted to play “Dare”
Charlie smirked and his eyes flickered quickly to Neil before finding you again “I dare you… to kiss the hottest person in the room.”
You stared at him without saying anything, your lips slightly parted and your cheeks warm. You heard the boys whispering and a ‘oooh’ from Meeks. “Uhm… alright,” you said.
You took a deep breath and turned to your left so you could face Neil. You slowly leaned in and pressed your mouth to his. The cave was now filled with cheers and ‘wooh ooh” from the boys. It was nice kissing him, his lips were soft and smooth and you didn’t really want to stop.
Neil’s cheeks were red when you pulled away– a second too late to pretend you didn’t like it. You looked away, breath heavy, you were still flustered and so was he.
After a minute, the noise calmed down and they went back to playing. But you couldn’t look at Neil anymore, too shy now. Eventually, it got late. The cave wasn’t really far from Welton but you still had to bike home after reaching their school. “I might have to go now,” you announced.
Everyone said goodbye and you put a foot outside, turning your torchlight on. As you started to walk you felt a hand on your shoulder “Wait-”
It was Neil, with his soft smile you wished you could kiss again “I can walk you back so you don’t get lost,” he said as he walked by your side.
“O-oh,” you smiled “Okay.”
You both were silent the entire time, both of your mind preoccupied by the kiss. It was supposed to be a simple, meaningless kiss. But no, you wanted more.
When you reached Welton, your bike waiting against a wall, you turned around “Well… I guess that’s where we split up,” you said.
“I guess, yeah,” he smiled. He watched you as you got on your bike. He had to say something before you left. “Hey I just…”
You glanced at him, head tilted, you waited for him to say more. Even in the faint light from the torchlight you could still see the crimson shade of his cheeks.
He let out a long exhale “For earlier. I mean… the kiss. You… You really thought I was the hottest guy in the cave?”
You chuckled, not expecting this “Well yeah of course, Neil”
Neil’s smile widened “Okay, good.” You could see he was a little nervous “Maybe I’m reading things wrong but… I… I think to me the kiss meant more than just a truth or dare. I mean… I like you and yeah…”
Your heart was about to explode. No way. “I… really?”
“Yes,” he smiled “really.”
You grinned “Well… I like you, too,” you said “And I guess… I kinda want to kiss you again.”
Neil stepped closer “You do?”
“Mmh hmm,” you smiled, you leaned in and your lips brushed his.
You kissed again, but this time it was just the two of you, no cheers for anyone, no boys to watch you amused. You rested your hand on his cheek as you slowly deepened the kiss. His hand got tangled in your hair.
“I could definitely get used to this. Yeah we should do it again,” he said when he pulled away
Your lips tugged into a smirk “Is that a truth or a dare?”
