Hi!! I was hoping for some romantic matchups for Top Gun Maverick, Stranger Things, and Harry Potter!!
I’m 19 years old, I use she/her pronouns, and I’m bi. I have pale skin with birth marks everywhere, brown eyes, medium length curly brown hair. I’m a 5’ plus size woman that tends to dress feminine.
I’m an extrovert that loves going out, cracking jokes, is fiercely loyal and ambitious. I like baking, reading, and painting in my free time. In addition to English I’m fluent in Spanish and love traveling.
Please and thank you!!
Hi!
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I am so sorry for the wait!
I hope you like your matches!
Enjoy!
<333
Romantic Matchups; Top Gun: Maverick, Stranger Things, and Harry Potter
~~~
Romantic;
~~~
Top Gun: Maverick;
Natasha "Phoenix" Trace -
You and Natasha were the "two of a kind" at the Academy
Ambitious, sharp, and constantly surrounded by a sea of men
Ew
You met during a particularly grueling survival training exercise, where your feminine-leaning style
(Which some classmates mistook for a lack of grit
Was immediately proven wrong by your fierce loyalty and extroverted leadership
While she was the cool, calculated pilot
You were the one cracking jokes to keep the morale up during long treks
You bonded over being a woman in a male-dominated field
Often spending late nights in the library sharing coffee and stories
She loved that you were unapologetically yourself
A five foot powerhouse who could paint a masterpiece one day and master flight theory the next
When you both got the call for TOPGUN
The takes changed
Seeing her in that high-pressure environment, watching her laser-focus and the way her flight suit hugged her body, something shifted
You found yourself staring a little too long when she walked into the hanger
You were confused at first
She was your best friend, your sister-in-arms
But one evening, after a particularly intense dogfight simulation where she protected your "six," the adrenaline turned into a flutter in your chest you couldn't ignore
You realized your ambition wasn't just to be the best of the best
It was to be the person she came home to
The confession happened on the hood of her classic truck
Overlooking the runway as the sun set in shades of deep purple and gold
You were babbling, a habit you have when you're nervous, and she caught your hand
"Hey, stop talking for a second. I fear you'll over-heat and explode."
"Sorry, I'm just nervous..."
"I know, me too."
She didn't need a grand speech, and neither did you
You both just leaned and kissed
She tasted like peppermint and chocolate from the candy she had been eating
Nat is a woman of action, not just words
She loves the contrast of your styles
She'll come home in grease-stained coveralls and find you in a floral sundress, the kitchen smelling of fresh bread you've been baking
She'll sneak up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder while you paint
She calls you "Ace"
She buys you high-quality leather-bound journals for your writing and professional-grade brushes
You pend evenings on the porch
She cleans her gear while you read aloud to her
She pretends she ins't listening, but she can recite your favorite passages by heart
You both like to go flying together for fun
Dogfights together
Teaming up against Hangman
~~~
Stranger Things;
Eddie Munson -
You were a sophomore, he was the infamous senior "freak"
You'd watched him from afar, fascinated by the way he commanded the cafeteria like a stage
Your friends warned you
"He's dangerous, he's a cult leader"
But you saw the way his eyes lit up when he talked about the things he loved
One Tuesday, you reached your breaking point with your "popular" friends' narrow-mindedness
You stood up, smoothed down your skirt, and walked straight to the Hellfire table
The room, at least to you, went silent
Eddie froze, a piece of pizza halfway to his mouth
You sat down right next to him
Eddie's grin was slow and wicked, "Well, boys, looks like we finally have royalty in our midst."
Lunch became your favorite time of the day
He'd prop his elbow on the table, cheek in hand, looking at you with such "lovey-dovey" intensity that Dustin would fake gag
He loved your extroverted energy and the way you'd challenge his jokes with even better ones
He was adorably nervous when he finally asked you out
He cornered you by your locker, fidgeting with his rings
"So, uh, I know someone with a van, sick guitar, and two tickets to a movie your parents would hate."
"Is this "someone" also going to get me popcorn, and also has really cute hair?"
"You think my hair is cute?"
Being with Eddie is a whirlwind
He treats you as if you belonged in a Renaissance painting
He often worships you with soft kisses
He loves to watch you bake
He'll sit on the counter, playing a soft melody on his guitar (for once) while you prep dough
He insists on "helping" by licking the spoon
He just loves to woo you by calling you his "mi amor"
He will take the time to learn Spanish to woo you as well
He finds vintage fantasy novels at thrift stores for you and steals his own band tees for you, for you to sleep in
"You look so good in my clothes."
He takes you for midnight swims or hidden spots in the woods where you can stargaze, have picnics, or paint while he practices his guitar
"Sweetheart, if you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna forget how to breathe. It’s not fair to the DM."
~~~
Harry Potter;
Percy Weasley -
(Only gif I could find...)
As a Head of House, you were paired with Percy for nightly patrols around the castle
At first, it was agonizing
He was the ultimate "goody-two-shoes," walking two paces ahead with his nose in the air
As if he was too good to speak to you, he had a job to do
You tried everything
You couldn't just walk for two hours and not talk
Like what?
You tried cracking jokes about Filch, asking about his family, and even trying to discuss the latest Charms essay
He'd just hive a stiff nod and say "The corridor is clear. Please maintain professional silence."
Like dude...
By the second week, your extroverted spirit finally tired out
You stopped talking
You just walked beside him, looking out the windows at the Scottish Highlands
Then, you caught a nasty magical flu and missed patrol
The net week, when you showed up looking a little bit pale but dressed in your usual robes, Percy didn't even wait for the clock to strike eight
"Where have you been?" He blurted out, his face flushing a bright Weasley red
You teased him, saying you didn't think he'd notice
"I... I noticed," he muttered, adjusting his glasses, "The silence was... Suboptimal"
Form then on, the ice melted
He started asking you about your travels and your paintings
His aloofness replaced by a shy, earnest curiosity that you didn't think was possible for him
Percy is unexpectedly romantic in a very traditional, devoted way
He admires your ambition and your fierce loyalty to your house
He's the type to pull out your chair and carry your heavy bag of books
He loves the "simple" stuff
Sitting in the library together where he works and you write stories
He'll reach over and take your hand, rubbing his thumb over your hand without looking up from his books
He calls you "darling" often, with a very specific, soft tone he uses for no one else
He gets you rare, enchanted paints that change colors and tea blends
He plans elaborate, organized picnics by the Black Lake, complete with a checklist of snacks you like
"I've scheduled forty-five minutes for us to just… Look at the stars. I find that when I'm with you, my productivity increases, but my heart rate is… Significantly less efficient."
Genre: Romantic comedy, smutty fluff, slow burn with chaotic truth spills light smut talk
Summery: George and Lee thought it would be funny to slip some truth serum into Fred’s butterbeer how could an innocent joke turn into such chaos
Ps: the truth serum lasts a lot longer than it realistically would 🤫
Part 1: The Joke That Should’ve Stayed a Joke
It began with a prank.
Like most terrible, brilliant ideas in Fred Weasley’s life, it started with laughter and ended in chaos.
“C’mon,” Lee whispered to George behind the broom shed, glancing down at the tiny vial of Veritaserum pinched between his fingers. “Just a drop or two. He’s been far too smug lately.”
George snorted. “You mean he’s been rubbing in the fact that he beat you at Strip Exploding Snap.”
“I wasn’t that naked.”
“You were down to socks.”
Lee scowled. “He cheated.”
“He always cheats.”
Which was exactly why they felt this was justified. A little dose in Fred’s butterbeer at dinner, a few cheeky questions, and maybe a public confession or two about how he once wet the bed in second year. Easy fun. Harmless.
They didn’t know.
They didn’t realize.
Fred Weasley was harbouring filth. Deep, obsessive, terrifyingly horny filth—and every single thought centred around you.
⸻
Dinner was uneventful at first.
You sat across the table from Fred, laughing with Ginny and Hermione, unaware that two mischievous bastards had slipped your longtime friend a potion designed to bypass every filter he had.
He was already three sips in when he locked eyes with you.
And then the spiral began.
She’s so fucking fit. That skirt should be illegal. Merlin’s saggy left nut, her lips look like heaven. I wonder if she knows I’d crawl through the Forbidden Forest just to lick her neck.
Fred’s face went pink.
“Fred?” you asked, noticing his expression.
He blinked, shook his head quickly. “Nothing. Fine. I’m fine. Dandy. Peachy.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You look like you swallowed a Niffler.”
“Probably deserves it,” Lee muttered, nudging George.
Then George, grinning wide, leaned in across the table. “Hey Fred, who would you say has the best… assets in Gryffindor?”
Fred’s mouth opened. “Y/N’s tits could end wars.”
Silence.
You choked on your pumpkin juice. Ron dropped a fork. Hermione’s mouth fell open.
Fred blinked, then smacked his own forehead. “Oh bollocks.”
Lee’s expression morphed into horror. “That was… not what I expected.”
George grabbed Fred by the arm. “We’re leaving.”
“I’d let her ride my face for hours,” Fred added as he was yanked from the bench.
“FRED!” Hermione shrieked.
You sat frozen in place, mouth slightly open, cheeks burning red.
What the actual fuck was that?
⸻
Part 2: The Escape Plan
“WHAT were you thinking?” Fred hissed in the dorm later that night, pacing like a man possessed. “Truth serum? Veritaserum?! On me?! Have you met me?”
“To be fair,” George said, trying not to laugh, “we thought we’d get you to admit to stealing Lee’s Quidditch socks. Not…”
“That I wank to the sound of her voice?!”
Lee winced. “Yeah, that was… vivid.”
Fred dragged a hand through his hair. “She’s never going to look at me again.”
“Well, she did look at you. Her face was redder than a tomato.”
“She probably thinks I’m a creep!”
“You are a creep,” George muttered. “But a very charming one.”
Fred groaned. “I need to avoid her.”
“What? Why?”
“Because if I see her again, I’ll say something worse. You don’t know what I think about.”
Lee raised an eyebrow. “Worse than wanting to be her human furniture?”
Fred gave them a haunted look. “So much worse.”
⸻
Part 3: The First Confrontation
You tried to corner him two days later.
He was fleeing the Great Hall like a man on fire.
“Fred!” you called, jogging after him. “Oi! Slow down!”
Fred turned a corner and ran straight into Peeves.
“Bugger,” he muttered.
That gave you time to catch up. You grabbed his sleeve. “Are you seriously avoiding me?”
“I—no—yes—I mean—don’t take it personally!”
“I am taking it personally!”
Fred backed into the wall, looking anywhere but at you. “It’s the serum. I didn’t mean to say all that.”
“But you did say it.”
“I didn’t want to!”
“But you meant it.”
Fred whimpered. “Merlin, yes, I meant it! Have you seen yourself?! Your legs go on forever and I’ve literally written poems about your arse in Divination!”
You blinked. “…What?”
“I once dropped a book on purpose just to watch you bend over,” Fred said helplessly. “You moaned when you picked it up and I nearly fainted.”
Your mouth dropped open.
Just then, George appeared.
“There you are!” he said loudly, grabbing Fred’s arm. “Come on, we’ve got detention, remember?”
Fred practically leapt away from you.
“I’LL WRITE YOU A LETTER!” he shouted over his shoulder as George dragged him off.
⸻
Part 4: The Confessions Escalate
By the fourth time, you weren’t even surprised.
You found Fred alone in the Astronomy Tower, hiding behind a tapestry.
He looked up at you with a guilty expression. “I was hoping you wouldn’t find me.”
“I always find you.”
He sighed. “I know. You smell like ink and sugar quills. It’s—ugh—it’s delicious.”
You bit your lip.
He stood slowly. “I’ve imagined you riding me in that chair in McGonagall’s classroom.”
“Fred.”
“In the library. Up against the restricted section. I’d lift your skirt and—fuck, I need to shut up.”
Your legs went weak.
“I can’t stop, Y/N. Every time I see you, my brain goes straight to filth. You make me feel like I’m thirteen again and discovering what a hard-on is.”
You opened your mouth—just as Lee’s voice echoed from below.
“Fred, come on! You said five minutes!”
Fred sighed in relief. “Saved by the bastard.”
You grabbed his sleeve. “One day, they won’t be around to save you.”
Fred’s expression changed. “And on that day, I’m going to ruin you.”
Fred avoided you for another week.
You couldn’t so much as glance at him without George or Lee flanking him like Aurors on guard duty. If you sat down beside him, one of them magically needed him somewhere else. Every time he opened his mouth, one of them interrupted.
And yet… the things he did manage to say?
They haunted you.
“You make me feel like I’m thirteen again and discovering what a hard-on is.”
“I’ve imagined you riding me in that chair in McGonagall’s classroom.”
“You moaned and I nearly fainted.”
You replayed them in bed. At breakfast. During bloody Charms. And worst of all: Fred knew it.
Because every time your eyes met across the Great Hall or a corridor, he’d flush deep red and mutter something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch.
And you were getting impatient.
Dangerously so.
⸻
The Breaking Point
It was late.
The Gryffindor common room had thinned out to just a few scattered students dozing near the fire. You were curled up in an armchair with a Transfiguration book you weren’t really reading.
And then Fred walked in.
Alone.
Your heart nearly exploded.
He froze when he saw you.
You didn’t even hesitate. “Sit down.”
Fred looked torn between bolting or throwing himself into the fire.
“Fred.”
He gave in with a heavy sigh and slumped onto the sofa across from you. His legs spread wide, one hand gripping the back of his neck.
“George and Lee aren’t here to save you this time,” you said.
“I noticed,” he muttered.
You closed your book. “Then tell me.”
Fred stared into the flames for a long moment, jaw tight, lips parted like he was catching his breath.
And then—
“I think about fucking you more than I think about food.”
Your entire body went still.
Fred didn’t stop.
“I wake up hard. Every morning. From dreams about you. Last week I came in my pants because I dreamed you were sitting on my face.”
Your legs pressed together instinctively.
Fred’s voice dropped, ragged and low. “You were begging. Grinding down on me. Your thighs shaking. I could taste you in the dream.”
You swallowed hard.
Fred ran a hand over his face. “Every time you wear that little skirt—the grey one—I imagine you bent over a desk. I’d lift it, pull your knickers to the side, and fuck you so hard the books fall off.”
Your thighs clenched.
“I want you to make those little sounds I’ve only ever imagined. I want to bury my face between your legs and not come up for air. I want your fingers in my hair while I make you fall apart.”
“Fred…” you whispered.
“I want to ruin every surface in this bloody castle with you. I want your nails down my back, your voice hoarse from screaming my name.”
Your breath hitched. “Jesus.”
“And it’s not just sex,” he went on, words speeding up like they were desperate to escape. “It’s you. It’s your laugh. The way you make me feel like I’m flying when you look at me. I love you. I’m completely, helplessly, humiliatingly in love with you.”
Silence.
Fred stared at you, chest rising and falling hard, like he’d just run a marathon. “And I wasn’t supposed to say any of that. I was supposed to keep pretending I was fine.”
You were on your feet before your brain could catch up.
You crossed the room in three long strides, grabbed him by the collar, and kissed him.
It was fire. Messy. Desperate. Your fingers tangled in his hair, his hands gripping your hips like he’d die if he let go.
He moaned against your mouth, and it shot straight through your core.
You pulled back just enough to speak. “Fred?”
“Yeah?”
“Still under the serum?”
“Wearing off,” he whispered. “But I’d say it anyway.”
You kissed him again, harder.
Fred groaned, pulling you into his lap without warning, and you straddled him without hesitation. His hands dragged up your thighs, pushing your skirt up until his palms were hot against your bare skin.
“You’re even better than the dreams,” he mumbled, lips brushing your neck.
“Then make new ones,” you breathed. “With me.”
Fred’s grin was sinful. “Witch, I’m going to ruin you.”
