a/n: i collapsed under the influence of multiple unidentified substances and not to suffocate y’all but like this is this shit i started to imagine?? pls enjoy the things that run thru my mind while intoxicated
summary: jj has a nightmare
word count: 628
it’s like three o’clock in the morning during quarantine, and jj spent the whole day doing work around the chateau with john b, so he’s totally completely knocked out in bed and you’re wide awake right next to him. he’d let you sleep in super late that day because he knew you’d be bored just watching him and jb clearing out the front yard and taking all the empty beer bottles out of the twinkie and cutting the grass and all that fun stuff that teenage boys think to do during a day of spring cleaning, but now he’s snoring next to you and you can’t even keep your eyes closed bc of how much energy you have. so you’re playing candy crush or solitaire or something on your phone super intensely but then jj twitches super hard next to you. he’s laying on his stomach with his face buried into a pillow and he has his arm tossed across your hips while he sleeps, so the sudden movement basically scares the shit out of you for a second. and then you settle again, because you know very well that jj sometimes has passing bad dreams in the middle of the night, and as much as it stabs at your heart to see him jump like that, you’re sure, based on prior nights, that it’ll be a single event, and he’ll go back to peacefully sleeping soon after. but this time is different, because a few seconds later jj’s fingers start shaking and twitching over your hip bone. and then a few seconds after that, his whole arm moves again, and then his eyebrows are bunching up into this face you rarely see on him, and his mouth is moving to utter words that don’t make any real sense, but you know then that it’s a nightmare. a real, “someone’s in the closet,” “you forgot to check under the bed,” “the intruder just broke through the window,” “my dad finally found us,” nightmare. the game you’d been playing is quickly forgotten as you toss your phone on the nightstand john b had newly put in the guest room with a concerned and pitiful expression. you hated that jj had to fight these demons even in his sleep. lightly, you put your hand on his arm, thumb rubbing circles into his forearm. your soothing movements drew a deep breath from the boy, and his face began to relax a bit. when you applied a little more pressure to your touch, sliding your fingers slowly up and down his arm to pull him out of his sleep, he startled awake. you turned swiftly onto your side, putting your face in his line of vision as soon as you realized he had opened his eyes. “hey,” you hummed, gently placing that same hand on his cheek. “hey, j. just me. s’just me, babe, it’s y/n.” his eyes finally locked with yours, and the terror in them flashed away immediately. he went from a deer in headlights back to your jj maybank in seconds. “you okay?” he nodded right away, bringing a hand up to cover the one you still held to his face. when he just stared at you, thumb smoothing back and forth over your knuckles, you wanted to cry. “you don’t have to pretend, you know.” he looked at you quizzically, not completely certain of your reminder’s meaning. the exhaustion in his eyes only tugged at your heartstrings harder, reminding you how tired he really must’ve been in so many different ways. “it’s okay to have a nightmare, jj. i’m here. right here, to listen, to do anything. you can talk about it, cry about it. just don’t ignore it, okay? let me help you.” and so he did.
request: “ wowowow ive only read one of things youve written (idk if youve written more but still) and i already love your writing, since you taking requests, can you do something with the reader being rons twin sister and draco is interested™ in her and pansy is like wingwoman as fuck, but not to draco, to the reader, like theyre lowkey friends, you can take it where ever after those things tho.. thank you ❤️” - @reading-vs-reality
word count: ~1800
a/n: awww, thanks!! sorry this was sitting in my inbox for so long! i got a lil carried away with the “reader is ron’s twin” part and wrote tons (like 5000 words worth) of domestic relationship building between reader, ron, hermione, harry and ginny / the background between pansy and reader’s friendship. it might be posted later if i feel like it, but for now, this is what you got! thanks for reading and sorry if this isn’t what you wanted!
summary: sitting around a table in hogsmeade is the best place to find out secrets. also, reverse psychology ALWAYS works on a slytherin.
part zero
“So, Weasley,” Pansy smirks, leaning forward to tap your knee. “Who do you fancy?”
You look up from your mug of butterbeer, eyes narrowed. You’re sitting with a group of Slytherin girls - Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Daphne Greengrass. The four of you are circled around a table in the Three Broomsticks, hands wrapped around mugs of butterbeer. You yearn for these Hogsmeade moments - you can be someone else, someone other than the stereotypical “Gryffindor Weasley” you’re expected to be.
You don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea; you love your group. Harry is your best friend, Hermione is a goddess, and your brother - well, he’s your twin brother. Sometimes, though, you feel suffocated by the pressure. Harry Potter’s inner group, a Weasley, looked down upon for the hand-me-down robes and red hair and a Gryffindor in Harry’s year, friendly with the Chosen One himself. Hogsmeade allows you to hook up with your other friends, the ones your main friend group would have a fit over if they found you fraternizing with. Especially Pansy Parkinson - she hasn’t exactly been nice to them. She’s actually quite an interesting friend. Hanging out with her and the others proves to be a vast learning experience. For one, Pansy, while rude, is quite funny when prompted. Daphne Greengrass is sweet and Millicent is so daft, it’s laughable.
“Who do I fancy?” You repeat over a sip of your butterbeer. “I don’t fancy anybody.”
Daphne smiles, nudging your side. “You have to have your eye on somebody. Come on, not even a guilty pleasure?”
“Like who? Daph, who’s your guilty pleasure?” You lean forward on your elbows, smirking into her green eyes. Daphne turns a deep red and hides her face behind perfectly manicured nails.
“I… okay, if I tell you, you cannot tell him! Any of you - you can’t say a word! I haven’t told anybody but Astoria,” she presses her lips together in a thin line, looking between the rest of you. “And you have to tell me yours!”
You roll your eyes. Honestly, you hate boy talk. Sitting around with other girls and discussing the physical appearance of the male species has never been up your alley. You’d rather be out doing something. You don’t know if it’s the Gryffindor in you, or maybe the Weasley - possibly both - but you hate sitting around talking. That’s one reason why you love hanging around with Harry, Ron and Hermione: there’s never a dull moment.
Slytherins, though, never seem to tire of sitting around and talking. Mainly shit, but they do get around to other topics. You’d expected the cattiness from them.
“Okay, Daphne, sure,” you sigh, sitting back and crossing your arms across your chest. The blonde seems awfully nervous; you assume it’s somebody in Gryffindor. If he was anything other than Gryffindor, the girl wouldn’t be as reluctant to spill the secret.
You’re right - Daphne stutters out a, “Ha-Harry Potter,” and waits for the incoming onslaught. All you do is snort, rolling your eyes.
“Harry is attractive,” you muse, pursing your lips. Everyone looks at you, eyes wide. “What? He is. You lot may hate him, but you have to agree he’s attractive.”
“...Fine,” Pansy mutters. “He’s a little attractive. But I would never do anything with him.”
You shrug. “Me neither. He’s like my brother.”
Millicent pipes up, “Your brother is cute, too.”
Now you shiver in disgust. Turning to the Slytherin, you sigh, shaking your head. “Millie, Millie, Millie… never say that in my presence ever again. It’s bad enough hearing that from Lavender Brown with Hermione sulking in the background. The sexual tension between them is insane, but you didn’t hear it from me,” you pause. “Oh, right, right. Well, Draco Malfoy is very pleasing to look at.”
“Draco?” The Slytherins shout. Pansy laughs, running a hand through her hair. “Funny you should mention that.”
“Why?”
The door behind you swings open. Entering the establishment is a trio of boys; all three tall and skinny, one pale, one tan, and one dark.
“Hello, Draco, Theo, and Blaise,” Pansy makes eye contact with you before smirking and twisting in her seat to face the boys. “Cold?”
“A bit,” answers Malfoy, surveying the table. When his eyes fall on you, the corners of his mouth turn down. “What’s she doing, hanging out with you?”
You stare into the silver irises that glare down at you, bringing your cup up to take another sip. Before you can reply with something snarky, Daphne is scoffing. “Don’t be so rude, Draco. She’s our friend.”
“Yeah,” Millie chimes in.
Pansy looks between the two of you and clears her throat. “Draco,” she says sweetly, resting her head in her hand, “are you busy right now?”
Malfoy, not breaking eye contact, grunts, “Does is look like I’m busy?”
“I wouldn’t know, you’re just standing there having eye sex with Weasley.”
You choke on your butterbeer, mid-sip. As you’re coughing, Millie leans over and whispers into your ear, “There’s something I never thought I’d hear.” You only choke even harder.
Malfoy’s gaze snaps to Pansy. He turns bright red, mumbling, “Don’t be daft. I… was not having eye sex with Weasley.”
“Good. So you can walk her back to Hogwarts?”
“What?” The two of you chorus.
Pansy nods. “She’s feeling a bit ill. Doesn’t want to walk alone. The girls and I have shopping to do. Will you walk her back?”
“What? No! She’s a Weasley!”
“She’s my friend, Draco. And you owe me. Walk her back to the castle.”
Malfoy groans, but steps back to mutter something to Nott and Zabini; they slap his shoulder, grinning. “I’ll be outside,” he mumbles, pushing the door open and leaving. You get up and follow. Pansy pulls you back, your ear close to her mouth.
“He thinks you’re very good-looking as well. Have fun!” Smirking, she shoves you away, wiggling her fingers. You glare as you bid good-bye to the rest of your friends.
Outside, Malfoy leans against the brick wall, arms folded. At your exit, he pushes off and waits for you to catch up before continuing onward. You shove your hands in your pockets (you were an idiot and forgot to wear mittens and your scarf, for Merlin’s sake) and jog to keep pace.
“So is this a ruse to bother me, or do you genuinely feel ill?” Asks Draco. You glance up at him, a smile finding its way onto your lips. Your stomach does a little jump when you catch him glancing down for a split second, so fast you think you might’ve imagined it.
“Oh, it’s definitely a ruse,” you reply, nodding. “Pansy went along with it. She thought, ‘I’m going to irritate Malfoy today,’ and bam, here we are.”
He scowls, looking away. “Why were you, of all people, with them?”
“Sometimes it’s nice to get away from Harry’s drama.”
“Who would’ve thought Potter attracts goddamn drama,” Draco snaps.
You shrug, “They’re a fun lot to be with sometimes, when they’re not fawning over boys. That gets a bit annoying,” you side-glance him, and blurt out before you can change your mind, “That’s why we’re in this situation, anyway. Bloody boy talk.”
Draco stops moving. You turn, raising your brows. He retorts, “This situation? What do you mean, Weasley?”
You roll your eyes and huff out, “Daphne admitted her crush for Harry Potter in return for my ‘secret crush,’” you make air quotes, “so I told the table I think you’re attractive. Pansy is obviously playing wing-man. Pulled me aside and told me how you also find me pretty,” smirking, you roll back and forth on your feet, listening to the crunching snow, “is that true?”
Draco’s cheeks turn pink again. It’s a good look for him; gives him a bit of color, evens out the pale skin. “Why would I find a blood traitor like you pretty?”
“Wo-hoa!” You hold up your hands in surrender, taking a step back. “No need to get so malicious! I happen to find a bigot like you attractive. Even though you’re rude and like to insult me and my family,” you frown. “If you don’t want to walk me all the way to the castle, then don’t. Leave. Go back to the Three Broomsticks. I am heading back to the castle, for I have an essay due tomorrow for Ancient Runes that I haven’t finished.”
You turn around and start stomping away. You walk alone for a good few minutes, refusing to look back. Finally, you hear crunching behind you. Malfoy catches up and falls into step with you, pouting. “There’s no need to bring out your Weasley anger.”
“There’s a hell of a lot more anger where that came from, Malfoy.”
He huffs. “Fine. I find you… pretty. But nothing between us would ever work out.”
“True,” you agree. “I’m a Weasley, and you’re a Malfoy. Our parents hate each other.”
“You’re a Gryffindor, and I’m a Slytherin.”
“Your father nearly killed my little sister a few years ago.”
“Your best friend is my worst nemesis and I call your brother ‘Weasel’ on a daily basis.”
“Our children would either be dreadfully pale with bright orange hair, or be freckled and tan with white-blonde hair.”
Draco snorts. “That is a fashion statement.”
You nod, giggling. “You’re probably not even a good kisser, anyway. I broke up with Seamus Finnigan because he isn’t a good kisser. I need good snogging in my life.”
Draco stops again. “I am a good kisser!”
You shrug. “I dunno, doesn’t look like you’d be one.”
“...Is this reverse psychology? Because if it is, it’s definitely working.”
You grin, turning around. He’s a lot closer than you imagined; your chests are nearly touching. “It’s working? Blimey, I don’t think it is. I’m still ta-”
Draco grabs your chin and tilts your head so he has a better angle. He leans down and kisses you, cold lips moving against your own. You grab his jacket and tug. His body collides with yours, but it only makes for better leeway to continue snogging.
You pull away a minute later, cheeks flush. “Okay, okay-” you laugh, “I think you’ve proven me wrong. You’re a good kisser.”
He says, smug, “I know.”
You grab his sleeve and pull on it as you continue walking to make him follow you. “Don’t get too over your head, Malfoy. You’re still a git who thinks you’re better than everyone else.”
“I am better than everyone else, Weasley. At least I actually am better than everyone else, unlike you, who thinks you’re better than everyone else and actually isn’t.”
“We’re a great pair,” you sigh wistfully.
Draco grunts in what you reckon is agreement. You keep on for the castle, his gloved hand in your own bare one. Your other hand is kept in your pocket for warmth. A few minutes into the silence, Draco notices your shivering and takes off his scarf. He drops it around your shoulders until it’s covering your mouth. When you pipe up to thank him, he only mutters, “Don’t.”
I have a couple new followers so I'd like to take this time to say welcome to my blog! :D I really appreciate and love all of you who are following me, new and old! You're all fantastic ♡ I honestly never thought I'd have followers LOL, so thank you and stay awesome! :3
I've made the switch. To mobile blogging. Cus this way I can not only drink and blog. But drink blog AND smoke a cigarette without carrying around a laptop that's WAAAYY To expensive to risk spilling booze on
