BEING A DAUGHTER OF APHRODITE means that people automatically believe they know who you are before you ever get the chance to speak.
they see the effortless beauty, the soft curls, the way your smile lights up a room. they see how people do double-takes when you walk by, how conversations get quieter, and of course, how compliments find you every few minutes of the day.
at camp half-blood, you’re adored in a way that feels both flattering yet distant, as everyone is admiring you as though you’re not real, like you’re an object.
you’re used to it though, but you can’t help the feeling of despair, of wanting to be seen for more than just the external factors.
you want to be loved for you.
you’re much quieter than people would expect an aphrodite daughter to be. shyer, less confident and clumsy. —READ MORE!
you listen more than you speak. you care deeply about things that don’t show on the surface, like fairness and kindness and doing the right thing even when it’s uncomfortable.
you train harder than any of your house-mates because you want to protect people, not because you want to pose for a magazine.
percy jackson notices that.
he has noticed you since the very beginning. the way you never laugh at the cruel jokes that are directed towards the quieter bunch. the way your eyebrows furrow when clarisse finds another kid to pick on, and of course the way you ask him about how his day was as if it would actually impact you somehow.
it’s why he likes you so much.
and it’s also why he’s completely convinced you could never possibly like him back.
to percy, you’re everything he’s not. graceful, so painfully beautiful, someone people admire and not hate.
he’s often clumsy, loud, a burden, and basically lacks any confidence the aphrodite kids have.
still, you’re great friends.
you sit next to him during meals sometimes, you walk beside him after training, you brightly smile at him in a way that makes his heart pound furiously, even though you usually look away right after, like you’re embarrassed.
he tells himself it’s nothing and that he’s completely delusional for even having the thought that someone like you could be possibly flustered by him.
the night everything changes, the sun is setting and the moon begins to take its place for the night.
you’re currently heading back from the beach to your cabin alone, wrapping your arms around yourself as the air gets colder.
you hear scattered footsteps behind you.
at first, you assume it’s nothing to be worried about. camp is constantly busy, even at night.
but the footsteps get close, way too close for your liking.
when you glance back, you realize it’s one of the campers who’s been overly attentive lately, border lining on friendly and overly obsessed.
“oh,” he says when you snap your neck to glance at him, smiling cockily. “didn’t mean to startle you, sunshine.”
you slow slightly with an uneasy smile. “i’m heading back to my cabin.”
“yeah, i know,” he replies, still walking beside you. “i figured i’d come hang with you.”
“i’m really okay,” you answer softly, trying to disguise your discomfort and putting up a brave expression. “i don’t need company.”
he laughs as if you told a joke, like he doesn’t take your words of rejection seriously. “you don’t have to be a bitch, ya know? i just wanna spend some time with you, alone for once.”
your heart drops and you walk faster towards the path that leads closer to the woods, hoping for him to finally give up.
that’s when percy sees you.
he’s heading back from putting his sword away when he spots you, posture stiff and frantically walking, as if you’re trying to escape something.
he notices the guy walking real close behind you, and the way your head keeps turning back to glance at him.
the guy scoffs at the unwanted interruption. “relax, jackson. we’re just talking, go away.”
percy steps in front of you with no hesitation, putting himself between you and the creep. “she doesn’t look like she wants to talk to you.”
the guy’s smile fades into a blank stare as he gestures for percy to leave. “mind your own business, dude.”
percy doesn’t waste another second.
you hear a crack as percy’s fist meets the creeps face.
it’s messy, quite bloody, and fast. percy takes an uncomfortable impact to the wrist, but he doesn’t stop until the guy runs away, muttering curses and a face of terror before disappearing into the darkness of the woods.
the silence and severeness of the situation hits you.
percy instantly turns to you, eyes wide with concern and care. “are you okay?”
you nod, athough your hands are still shaking. “i.. i think so.”
he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a weight settling off his shoulders. “good.”
the infirmary smells the fresh scent of laundry as percy sits on a bed while a healer wraps his wrist, wincing slightly but insisting that his wrist will be fine by tomorrow. when they leave, the silence fills the room.
he’s just about to get up and head to his cabin, until the door creaks open.
it’s you.
you step inside hesitantly, glancing around the room, curls running down your shoulders, eyes still glassy as if you’d been holding back tears.
percy looks up, startled. “oh,” he says, easing as he realizes it’s just you. “hey, it’s late. you didn’t have to—”
you practically run across the room and wrap your arms around him, nuzzling your face into his neck, breathing in his safe and familiar scent, easing into the tight hug.
as if you’d been holding yourself together all evening until you could finally come see him, and let yourself go.
percy freezes for a second before his arms wrap around your frame, gentle and careful. you press your face, you hug him tighter, grounding yourself in the fact that percy’s here, and that you’re okay.
“thank you.. gods percy, thank you so much.” you whisper. “for stepping in when you did, for not letting him hurt me.. i was.. so scared.”
percy’s fingers clenched as the thought of you hurt crossed his mind, instead, he focused on the sound of your soft voice right beside his ear, his cheeks pinking. “of course,” he replies softly. “you don’t need to thank me.”
you pull back slowly, still close, gazing at his face. your hands still linger at on his chest.
“that was really brave,” you say. “and so unbelievingly kind.”
he looks away, all a sudden flustered as he lets out a shy smile. “i just did what anyone should.”
you smile, shy. “not everyone would.”
there’s a quiet silence that follows. you notice the pink spread on his cheeks, the way his eyes can’t meet yours.
“you’re blushing,” you point out gently.
he laughs nervously, frantic as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. “n-no i’m not.”
you lean in and kiss his cheek.
it’s soft and affectionate. a thank you kiss more than anything else.
percy goes completely still, transforming into a complete shell of star struck, and it finally clocks to you what you had just done. you pull back, started and flustered yourself. “i— i’m sorry, i just—“
he looks at you like you had just hung up the stars.
“i like you,” you say upruptly, quietly, words tumbling out before you could stop yourself. “i have always liked how you stand up for people, and how you’re just… kind. it matters to me.”
percy swallows the lump in his throat. “you… like me?” he says confused as if he can’t even fathom the thought.
you nod, shy but so sure. “i do.”
before he can find himself overthinking it like you know he will, you lean in again and kiss him again. a soft kiss, this time closer to his lips, enough to make his breath still.
“i’ll… i’ll see you later, percy,” you whisper softly into his ear.
you leave before he could let out a response.
percy sits there, still and basking in the stillness and silence of the infirmary, the ache of his wrist forgotten, heart racing, realizing that the thought of you as his girlfriend wasn’t an impossible thought after all.
✧ 𝑓. i just hit 300 followers !!!! 🥹🥹❤️🩹 ily guys so much THANK YOU!!!! this was requested !! i had so much fun writing this, plz feel free to send some more pjo requests of things you guys would like to read ! 💗 my school semester is ending and last ep of s2 is coming… i’m scared there’s gonna be so much change in a week </3 desperately need to read the books NOW.
𓂃ㅤ 𝓉𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ୨୧ @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat @lcvealwayss @viennasolace @love4madii @keilahhhsstuff ♡ thank you so much for joining !
Summary: She remembers the 3rd December, but she wishes more than anything that she was Annabeth.
Warnings: Self hated, angst angst angst, crying, insecurities, self doubt, negative mindset, etc all that good stuff.
Note: This is inspired by the wonderful song “Heather” by Conan Gray so listen while reading if desired! Also, there isn’t going to be a part two, it’s just a little story to get going again because I took such a long break from writing I need to get back into it!! :) (Also my only Percy story, sorry!)
Also thanks so much to my followers for their great patience!
If I recall, I still remember. Of course I would. It was the night my butterflies came flying back, the night where I was wrapped in a sweater flooded with his scent, the night of the third of December.
The night my heart sang and blossomed into what would later turn into deadly rose thorns, poking at my heart until it ripped into shreds.
I desperately wished I could go back- go back to the night where my heart was fine, where it was beating without a problem as I stared into those sea green eyes that I was practically drowning myself in (no pun intended) since I was staring at them for so long. Mind as well do so, I would rather be dead at sea then experience what my chest was feeling right now.
But I’m stuck in the present. Stuck in this pain of having to watch them two, her wearing his sweater now.
Being stuck here doesn’t stop me from going back mentally, for when I close my eyes at night my mind goes back to that night, for it has once again done it tonight as I feel my sheets beneath me.
My third of December went as this:
“You cold?” I heard him say. I looked over from where I was shivering. We laid on a slide at a playground outside of town, the starry sky watching over us. Although I didn’t want to admit it, I looked into his eyes and couldn’t bring myself to lie to him.
“A little.” I finally responded. I soon regretted my action of speaking truth once he sat up, his hands fiddling with his sweater before pulling it over his black hair and setting it in my arms. “Here.” He said with a small smile.
“But you’ll be cold, Perce.” I protested softly, sitting up slightly and I could feel my hair sticking to the slide due to static.
Percy gently fixed it, making my cheeks flush but thank the gods he can’t see it due to the dark.
He smiled at me assuringly. “I’ll be fine. Trust me I was kinda warm anyway.”
Despite the fact I was still hesitant, I still wanted to be indulged in his scent, I wanted the sea and salt to be something that surrounded me for the rest of the night. So I pulled the polyester clothing over my head, and, as predicted, the pure smell of Percy Jackson evolved me within seconds. I almost wanted to pull it to my nose, to not only have a piece of him on me but in me, close within my chest.
“It looks better on you than me.” He mutters. I turn to him, a shy blush covering my cheeks so I hide it with the collar, taking more of his scent without him knowing.
‘Only if he knew’ I thought, back to the present time and staring at my ceiling with glossy eyes. ‘How much I adore him.’
But he’d never know. Oh gods no. I couldn’t bear to tell him how much I look forward to seeing his smile and how his eyes twinkle when he talks about something that I interests him. He was pure perfection in my eyes and my heart practically beats for him, but I doubt he felt the same way as I. How could he love someone like me when there are so many other perfect girls waiting for his arms?
Little did he know how much I hold onto that moment, how much I replay it in my head. It replays over, and over, and over, and over again.
How many times am I going to replay the memory just to make myself feel less lonely?
But once again before I go to sleep I thought back to it, back to his curved lips that I desperately wanted to kiss, back to his sea green eyes I wanted to get caught looking into, back to his messed up hair I wanted to place my hands in.
Back to when it felt like he was mine.
But I watch him as she walks by. Her prefect figure that I so wished I had. I would transform myself for him. Anything he wanted me to be I would, but I know deep down I would always want to show my true self to him.
I watch him today, at lunch, his green eyes walking her walk by. Her appearance, as always, is perfect. Brighter than a blue sky, Percy’s mesmerized by her, Annabeth, also known as Wise Girl.
All while I die.
‘She’s so much prettier than I am.’ I think, my eyes drifting over her. ‘I wish I looked like her.’ My eyes drift back to Perce, his sparkling eyes still on her.
‘Damn it, Percy.’ I think, my eyes digging so far into the side of his head I hoped he felt it. ‘Just please look at me for once.’
But why would he? I’m not pretty, and I’m not smart like she is. I’m not even half as pretty so why would be ever look at me, let alone kiss me?
It wasn’t until I saw them two at the playground hang out that I lost it. My chest burned as I say the polyester material around her figure, her hair touching the fabric as she walked around, a wide smile on her flawless lips. And as my blurry eyes looked down, I saw her smooth hand held in Percy’s. The same playground he gave me his sweater. The same slide I laid on as I got lost in his eyes.
My Percy.
‘He’s not yours.’ A voice inside my head told me, reminded me, but my heart still hurt all the same, and the events of the hang out seemed very unappealing now.
With wobbly legs and blurry eyes, I sped walked to my apartment door, my hands shaking with the knob before slamming it.
The tears came full force, my nose tingling and eyes burning as waterfalls fell down my cheeks. I crawled into my bed after putting on a sweatshirt, wishing it was his, using the sleeves to hopelessly wipe the tears.
The blankets swallowed me as the tears soaked my face. The sobs were muffled my the sleeves, my heart cracking when I couldn’t help but think of his smile.
I wish I were Annabeth.
*Bonus* (Percy’s POV)
“Do you think it’s working? Does she look jealous?” I ask the girl beside me, my hand feeling poisonous in hers. I so wanted to rip my hand from her grip, and she did so as soon as my love was out of sight, walking into her apartment quickly, the one across from the playground the friend group hung out at this evening.
“I think,” Annabeth started, leaning forward a little after wiping my touch off her hands with her shorts. Her voice got softer than before, and my heart stumbled from the next words. “That you’re breaking her.”
—
-I hope you liked it! By the way, there isn’t going to be a part two, it’s just one part until further notice. :)
Fake Dates & Family Dinners | Percy Weasley x F!Reader
Description: Fed up of his brother’s teasing, Percy enlists the help of a friend to act as his girlfriend during a family dinner.
Warnings: food + eating, cheesy, female pronouns (let me know what i’ve missed)
authors note: fuck it *posts fic i promised a year ago*
It's a short walk from the apparation point to the front door of the burrow, a stroll really. (Y/N) eyes everything around her in unbridled awe, the tree swing made from an old broom stick and dirt path snaking towards the small pond she recalls from Percy’s stories.
She tries now to pull them from him again, anything to ease the nerves that have taken up in his body at the sight of the lopsided house growing closer upon approach.
She toys with the idea of taking his hand, clenched a mere few millimetres from her own by their sides, easing his fingers flat and linking them with her own, squeezing to remind him that, somehow, his ludicrous plan will work.
Ludicrous, but in some twisted way it is genius, because it was designed by him.
He was similarly awkward when he first told her, the bell above the door drawing her eyes to him as it has million times before only to give way to a sheepish wreck of man, starting with apologies before even saying hello. A startling transformation from the level-headed, ministry employee who first walked into her book shop a year before.
Still he explained his predicament, that, in desperate need for peace from his brothers teasing, he blurted out a declaration of a relationship that did not, in fact, exist, and with it, her name.
“You told your family that we’re dating?”
“Your name just slipped out,” He admitted sheepishly, “Like some instinct I never knew I had.”
She's still telling herself that she’s just his most recent friend, or that her name slipped out because he knew she’d help him, anything to dismiss the fuzzy feeling in her chest.
Still, she agreed to do him the favour, and the honour, of being his fraudulent girlfriend and he laid out his plan, one sure to save him from brotherly teasing and motherly matchmaking attempts for at least a month or so.
All they need to do is make it through dinner.
They made rules of course, sat down together days ago and wrote them out on a scrap piece of parchment, no doubt tucked somewhere in one of Percy’s pockets as a reminder, as if he might forget, as if Percy Weasley has ever forgotten a rule.
Still, written in his usual haphazard handwriting, molded from years of frantic note taking, they agreed on the following:
Hand holding ✓
Kissing ✗ ( no matter how much the twins pester )
Pet names ✓ (Sweet Cheeks, Pumpkin, Freckles, Darling✓)
Even at the top of the list, hand-holding with no one to witness, with no benefit to the ruse, feels too intimate and so (Y/N) keeps her hand hidden in her pockets all the way to the front door, resisting the temptation.
“Are you ready?”
Facing him, (Y/N) traces his face for the concern he hasn’t let slip in his voice, the subtle scrunch of his brows illuminated by the flickering lamp screwed above the door as the sun begins to set. She breathes out a small laugh, shaking her head.
“Are you?”
She pulls her hands free to fix his collar with a disapproving tut, muttering about how he’s going to give them away instantly looking like such a nervous mess. He watches her as her fingers straighten the knot of his tie in stunned silence, gulping softly as she rambles.
“I mean honestly- weren’t you head boy?” She shakes her head, “Surely dinner with your family will be a breeze.”
“It’s different with family,” He manages, regretting it only when her hands freeze in surprise and he’s suddenly compelled to joke his way awkwardly out of it. “Especially with the twins… they’ll tease me for the rest of my life if they find out this isn’t real and I suspect I’ll be getting enough of that from you anyway.”
She chuckles.
“The chances are pretty high,” She agrees, “But don’t worry about them, you’ve got me tonight.”
“I suppose I do.”
Her hands are still on the curve of shoulders when the door swings open, breaking their locked eyes and causing the goofy quirk in their smiles to drop as they spring apart.
“I knew I heard someone outside!” Mrs Weasley’s voice announces, “You must be freezing-”
Percy recovers first, clearing his throat and straightening in an almost professional manner that makes the blush taking front on his cheeks look ridiculous. His mother, smirking subtly, gives him a look that only makes it worse.
“Sorry, dears,” She smiles warmly, “I never meant to interrupt…”
“You didn’t,” Percy assures quickly, “I was just about to knock.”
“Of course!” Mrs Weasley beams, “We’ve all been excited to finally meet you- Percy’s been quite secretive you know.”
(Y/N) grins back at Percy, nudging him with her elbow as they’re led into the house by his mother. He rolls his eyes as he pulls off his coat, holding his arm out for hers and hanging them by the door.
“Anyway, you’re here now,” Mrs Weasley concludes, “Dinner is just about ready so we’re all in the kitchen- come on,”
She’s already starting down the corridor and Percy nods (Y/N) forward with her, gulping to himself as they approach the room full of laughter, instantly met by the greetings of Percy’s red-headed family.
Percy is pulled into a sea of open arms, met with cheerful hellos and haphazard hugs across tables before returning to (Y/N)s side apologetically, straightening his glasses with a sheepish smile.
“Look who finally arrived- we’ve been waiting hours to meet your special someone,”
Nudged childishly with an approving snigger by his mirror-image, (Y/N) recognises him as one of the twins. She hears the slightest of sighs from Percy’s lips and catches his eyes roll with familial affection.
“This is (Y/N),” He introduces, throat catching on the title that comes next, “My girlfriend...”
“Nice to meet you,” (Y/N) smiles politely, feeling suddenly victim to Percy’s nerves under the watchful gaze of his family. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All good things,” Mr Weasley smiles from the end of the table, “I hope.”
“Oh, of course,” She assures, “I feel like I’ve been here a million times before just from his stories… you have a wonderful home.”
Mrs Weasley, a dish hovering above her wand as she slips behind them, breathes out a soft chuckle, warming at the compliment before instructing to them their seats.
Percy cringes at the places left, across from the Cheshire Cat grins of Fred and George. As he pulls a chair for (Y/N), he finds himself fixing them a stern warning glance that sends him momentarily back to his head-boy days.
“Thanks, Darling,”
He blinks in surprise as it hit his ears, startled for a second at hearing it aloud, no longer confined to the small crumbled note in his back pocket. (Y/N) smiles up at him, a smile he’s used to, a smile that’s greeted him a million times before each time he steps into the shop.
He feels that ease of familiarity unfurl in his chest again, nodding subtly before taking his seat beside her.
“This all looks lovely, Mrs Weasley,”
“Thank you, Dear,” Mrs Weasley beams, “Help yourself- quickly, before they take the lot.”
(Y/N) does as instructed, joining the mild chaos, in the most affection way, that is a Weasley family dinner. Percy, watching her almost in awe, nearly misses his chance at the potatoes, only realising as she’s spooned some knowingly onto his plate.
He’s glad for the initial distraction of the food’s arrival, then, for the dull clink of cutlery and the occasional compliments to the chef as the meal begins. Anything to drag the attention from himself, the eyes watching in wonder, sparkling with what he knows well as mischief.
For a while, Fred and George’s animated stories from the store allow him to slip into a false hope that perhaps the evening will go smoother than he’s imagined, perhaps he’ll be able to avoid any questions about his fraudulent relationship all together
However, it’s his father who shatters his false sense of safety, filling a lull in conversation with the topic everyone’s been waiting for.
“So, (Y/N),” Mrs Weasley begins, “All we’ve gotten out of Percy is that you have a store yourself. What’s that like?”
“I love my little shop,” She admits honestly, “I’ve always loved to read… you can hardly tell my flat from the store I've that many books, so it’s my ideal career, really.”
It’s the safest question anyone could ask, Percy realises. He loves to hear her talk of books, to see how animated and bright her face becomes, as though she’s brimming with so much passion it overflows. He thinks back to weekday evenings, just before closing, listening as she rambles about her latest read.
“It’s actually where I met Perce,” She adds, startling him as she turns to face him, “Right?”
“Eh, yes,” He blushes, “It was.”
“He came in like five minutes before closing, stressed out of his box- I brought my wand out thinking he was in some sort of danger-“
“I wasn’t that bad,” He argues.
“I thought you were being chased, Freckles.” She grins, “Turns out he was just in desperate need of a book on pixies.”
“My flat was becoming overrun,” He defends, though a grin has begun to twitch at his lips, “You felt bad for me, made me a cup of tea while you went to find them… then you read them with me for a few hours until we decided the best way to get rid of them.”
He can remember it so clearly, her hand dipped into her robes, eyes wide with shock. He was exhausted, desperate for a moment's peace from the pixie giggles in his floorboards.
Part of him was always hoping she forgot about his terrible first impression, but now, something in his chest warms at her recollection of it and the amused twinkle in her eyes as they hold his.
“Romantic,” George chuckles across the table, breaking their shared moment, “Could have guessed he’d pick a girl up at the bookstore.”
“Oh leave them be,” Mrs Weasley dismisses scoldingly, “It’s a very sweet story, Dear,”
“Thanks, Mum,”
“Aw, you’re all red, Perce,”
Part of him hates how quickly meals around the family dinner table make him feel like an awkward teen again, as if he hasn’t a full time job and a flat of his own. Then again, beside him, his fake girlfriend makes him feel utterly, helplessly boyish in away only a pretty girl ever could and in a way she never has before.
“Oh, leave them be,” Mrs Weasley scolds suddenly, to Percy’s, admittedly disbelieving, relief. “At least let them finish their dinner first.”
.
“Merlin,” (Y/N) says, the delight of a smile in her voice, “Look at your hair.”
Percy grimaces as his eyes land on the picture, promoted by the soft nudge of (Y/N)’s elbow against his side. He should have known the photo album would star in the after-dinner events.
“Thank you, George,” Percy looks up across the room, “The photo album was an inspired idea.”
“Oh, you’re welcome.”
Percy rolls his eyes before returning them to the album on (Y/N)’s lap. He chances a glance up to her face, her lips-parted in delighted awe with smiling eyes as she turns the pages with a gentle touch to the ageing paper.
“Are you studying… at Christmas?”
Blushing as her eyes meet his, caught in his observations, he clears his throat before following her finger to the picture in question. He’s maybe fifteen in it , scowling over the top of a textbook, displeased at being disrupted, or perhaps at the flimsy paper crown balanced precariously on his mop of red curls, procured from some Christmas cracker and undoubtedly placed upon his head against his will.
“Yes... “ Percy admits sheepishly, “It is.
“Christmas?” She repeats softly in disbelief. “Percy…”
“He was always studying,” Mrs Weasley sighs. “Always working too hard - that’s why we’re all so glad he’s got someone looking after him now.”
(Y/N) smiles over at her fake boyfriend, sneaking her hand into his and squeezing it gently. Mrs Weasley eyes the interaction with a mischievous look in her eyes.
Even as the conversation moves on, and long past the retirement of the photo album, their hands stay joined. His thumb traces back and forth over her knuckles as they listen to the other talk and occasionally (Y/N) glances down and wonders if it's a conscious decision, specifically designed to stir butterflies in her chest, because he’s certainly doing a good job of it.
It’s late into the night when they stand to make their goodbyes. Percy is left startled by the cold absence of (Y/N)‘s hand as she’s pulled into a chain of hugs and promises of next times.
It’s George who claps him on the shoulder on the way out of the living room, grinning on his way past.
“She’s lovely, Perce.” He says, “Perfect for you, actually.”
“Yeah…” Percy glances over at his friend, her head flung back with a laugh at some joke Ginny is telling, and his lips quirk into a small, proud smile at the sight of her. “She’s pretty great, isn’t she?”
George rolls his eyes at the smitten look on his older brother’s face, that only softens more when (Y/N) meets his eyes and grins. George pulls him into a hug, then slips around him into the hall.
“Night,” He says, “Loverboy.”
After more goodbyes than (Y/N) can count, she finally finds herself back by Percy’s side, searching, on some strange new instinct, for his hand. When she finds it, she smiles up at him and he feels that warm rush again.
“It’s lovely to have met you, (Y/N).” Mrs Weasley smiles from beside Mrs Weasley. “I hope we haven’t put you off with all the ruckus.”
“Oh, never.” (Y/N) assures. “I’ve had such a nice time, and the food was amazing - The cheesecake will be in my dreams for years to come.”
“Oh you should have said, there’s plenty left over.” Mrs Weasley says, with a strange edge to her voice that makes Percy give her a look of subtle suspicion. “Arthur will take you through to grab a few slices if you like.”
“Huh?” Mr Weasley blinks in surprise, “Oh, of course.”
“Really?” (Y/N) asks in surprise, “That’s so kind.”
Mr Weasley nods the young woman down the hall and Percy’s brows twitch with disappointment as (Y/N) disappears from his side. Mrs Weasley gives him a knowing smile and he can’t help but gulp nervously.
“She’s a lovely girl, Percy.”
“Yes,” Percy agrees, clearing his throat awkwardly. “She is.”
“You look wonderful together.”
“Thank you,” Percy says. “I’m glad you think so.”
His mother’s eyes narrow just slightly and Percy shifts uncomfortably under her scrutinising look. For a second he tries convincing himself that she’s bluffing, that she knows nothing.
But this is a woman who raised six trouble-making children, and when she folds her arms and tilts her head towards him, she knows he’s been caught and his shoulders sink disappointedly.
This must be how Fred and George felt their entire adolescence.
“You know.” He exhales. “How do you know?”
“I’m your mother, Dear.” She says, “I know everything.”
He manages a small laugh, exhaled from his nose. She places a hand on his arm, squeezing as she used to when he was little, when his siblings were teasing him, or when he wasn’t happy with his grades.
“Why did you feel the need to make up a relationship, Percy?” She asks softly. “I hope I wasn’t putting any pressure one you-“
“No,” Percy assures sheepishly, “I just needed a break from Fred and George constantly teasing me about being single… I guess I’ve not quite grown out of getting wound up by them yet.”
Mrs Weasley manages a chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. She lifts her hand to cup Percy’s cheek, unable to resist the urge to then straighten his lopsided glasses.
“What silly children I have.” She shakes her head with a sigh. “But, I’ll give you that you certainly fooled your brothers.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re all too young to know the difference between the look of someone in love, and the look of someone still falling.” Mrs Weasley says, “And you were falling in love tonight, Percy, you know that, don’t you?”
Percy feels his cheeks warming. He glances subsconscious down the hall, where he can hear (Y/N) laughing. He thinks back to the living room, their joined hands and secret glances, that warm feeling in his chest everytime she smiled at him.
He nods.
“I think so.”
The chatter down the hall begins to get closer and Mrs Weasley smiles sympathetically at her red faced son.
“I meant what I said though,” She adds. “I like her and she’s great for you, Dear. It’s nice to see you having fun, getting up to nonsense for a change.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that compliment.”
Behind Mrs Weasley, (Y/N) appears from the kitchen, holding the box of cheesecake in the air excitedly. Percy can’t help but grin at her excitement, and how his father seems just as excited for her.
“I secured the goods.” She jokes, “Thank you so much, Mrs Weasley! For the cake and for the lovely evening.”
“No need to thank me.” Mrs Weasley chuckles, pulling the young woman into a hug. “We hope to see you again soon.”
“That would be wonderful.”
“Get home safe.” Mr Weasley nods. “And enjoy the cake.”
Percy opens the door, the cool night air calming his warm cheeks. He gives his dad a final hug, and then, with a final sheepish look, he turns to his mother.
“Thanks, Mum.”
“Goodnight, Dear,” She sighs quietly. “and she’s falling in love too, you know.”
She lets him go then, a mischievous look in her eyes once more as she waves them out the door. Percy, a little dazed by this final conclusion, allows (Y/N) to lead him down the path with their arms linked as she calls a soft final goodbye to his parents.
The moon is large in the cloudless sky and it illuminates their path with subtle pale light. The stars are extraordinary here, without street lights and headlights. (Y/N) beams up at them as they walk, but Percy can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away from her.
“My mum knew.” He blurts after a moment, causing (Y/N) to slow to a stop. “That we were faking it.”
“Oh no.” (Y/N) says. “I’m sorry… she must be annoyed.”
“I think she found it rather funny, actually.” Percy smiles a little. “And she really likes you, regardless.”
“Yeah?” (Y/N)‘a face brightens, proud of this. “I’m glad, I was really worried she wouldn’t.”
“Really?”
“She’s you mum, and she’s important to you… of course I want her to like me.”
She says it’s so flippantly, but it makes Percy feel close to melting. He doesn’t think she notices when she takes his hand this time, beginning to lead them towards the apparition point again.
“It was still a good night though, wasn’t it?” She rambles softly, “And I am obsessed with this cheese cake- we should go back to the shop and eat it there, if you like-“
“Can I kiss you?”
(Y/N) freezes, turning to face Percy in surprise. He’s blushing, she can see it even under only the light of the moon, the red rushing to his cheeks and engulfing his freckles one by one. She feels herself growing just as flustered, gulping to herself.
“What?”
“I- I think, maybe, the reason I blurted your name out when the twins were teasing me was because I’ve been wanting this for a while.” He admits, “and mortifyingly, my mother made me realise that today and I’ve decided nothing can really be as embarrassing as that, so I’m asking you if I can kiss you…please.”
She bites her lip to hide the smirk threatening to take over at his ever so polite rambling. With one hand still held in his, the other holding the leftover cheesecake, she slips her fingers from his and lifts her hand to rest on his chest. .
“But Sweet Cheeks,” She says, batting her lashes innocently, head tilting teasingly to the side. “That's against our rules, and I know how much you like your rules.”
With the realisation he’s being teased, he rolls his eyes and dips his free hand into his pocket for his little post-it note of rules, crumpling it into a ball with a half hearted look of annoyance that makes her laugh.
“I’m sure I’ll live with breaking this one.”
(Y/N) smirks at the cheesiness of the statement, shaking her head in disbelief.
“You dork.”
Sighing, he pulls her in with his hands on her waist, a smirk of his own beginning at the sound of her hitched breath. She glances from his eyes to his lips, biting her own in nervous anticipation.
“Can I kiss you now?”
“Yes please.”
She leans in first, lips finding his softly, moving slowly, tentatively. She expects it to feel odd, to kiss her closest friend, but something clicks, falling into place and she finds herself pulling him closer somewhat needily with her hand behind his head. He’s just as quick to return the sentiment.
They pull apart breathlessly, and Percy finds himself wondering how they’ve deprived themselves of such a pleasure for so long. Her own surprise morphs into a short laugh.
“We’re removing the no kissing rule.” She decides. “That’s going to have to be a regular thing.”
“Oh, definitely.” He agrees with a laugh. “Pumpkin.”
Her head dips back with a laugh and he prides himself in being the cause of such a reaction. He can’t help but steal another kiss when she straightens again, feeling her smile beneath his lips.
“Let’s go back to the shop and eat cheesecake.” He says. “It can be our first real date.”
Stepping back, (Y/N) glances down at the cheek cake still balanced on one hand, slightly crushed from their kiss. Another laugh escapes her, but she’s nodding, reaching for his hand again.
Hello! Could I request headcanons abt having Percy Jackson as your best friend? Gn reader. Thank you!
who doesn't want percy jackson as a best friend
masterlist
Let’s be real, if there’s anyone you want as a best friend, it’s Perseus Jackson himself
Even as a demigod, life with Percy around is never boring
He’ll wake you up at three in the morning because he’s had an Idea that needs exploration
You’re also very familiar with the lake at Camp Half-Blood due to a multitude of canoe races
Is it a terrible idea to challenge the son of Poseidon to a swimming race?
Not if you win and get to hold it over him forever
The two of you also do a lot of sparring, and if you ever need a partner on a quest, Percy’s your man
Life with Percy as your best friend isn’t just about survival in the face of monster attacks, though, the guy’s out of his mind every single day and it’s hilarious
When Percy gets it into his head to see if he can make a water chariot pulled by fish, you’re there to videotape the entire thing, camp rules on tech be damned
Even outside of Camp Half-Blood, the two of you are great friends
There are Target runs late at night, many matching shirts bought at boardwalks with terrible slogans
The two of you have enough blackmail on each other from embarrassing moments to ruin both of your lives forever, but that just makes it even more fun
In the end, through sugar highs and secret quests kept on the down low, you and Percy have each other’s backs forever
And in the dangerous world of a demigod, that’s worth everything to you :)
I made this whole account to post imagines cause I started to write a percy jackson Imagine yesterday morning at 3am and now it's almost 5am on Saturday and I'm still writing this piece of shit and I'm nowhere near finished I'm at 3.5k words rn and I still have like over 2k words left 😭😭😭😭😭
I might be overestimating there but I don't want to miss out cute moments between the 2 just to cut words down so idk anymore 🤷♀️💀💀
I so just want to stop and leave it unfinished like my other 30 works but I'm committed to this. I might post a little preview and see ❤️❤️
A/N - Two PJ and Heroes of Olympus posts in a row, because my page is suddenly filled with them! Decided to write a fic about Percy because there aren’t nearly enough of these on Tumblr. I didn't end with them as an official couple because they’re 6th graders at the end of TLT, and I wanted it to feel realistic.
Day 9 of Writer’s Block Challenge
Pairing(s) : Percy x Reader
Summary : Percy’s been ignoring you for Annabeth ever since you finished the quest to return Zeus’s lightning bolt and you finally confront him about it.
Warning(s) : Actually nothing, it’s just wholesome kiddos being stupid.
Word count : 1,421
Ever since you’d arrived at Camp Half-Blood, Percy had been ignoring you. Whenever you tried to talk to him, whenever you tried to invite him to do something, he always brushed you off.
It was always “I’m busy” or “I have to go train” or “not now, Y/N.” You had been trying for weeks and eventually you just stopped trying, even you knew when to give up a fight.
It all started when he meet that blonde haired girl, Annabeth. The second he met her, it was like you never even existed, all your years of friendship thrown out the window.
When you’d talked to Grover about it, hoping that he could shed light on the situation you were in, he told you that he had been experiencing the same treatment, the same blatant dismissal.
“I hate her,” you state, settling down on one of the rocks surrounding you, Grover nodding and sitting down beside you.
“And him,” he added to your statement.
“And him,” you repeated, rolling your eyes.
“I mean, look at him,” you exclaim, gesturing towards the boy who was following her around like a lost puppy, “it’s pathetic.”
Even so, you couldn’t help but be jealous of her. She was everything you wanted to be. She was beautiful, and brave, and a leader, and most importantly, she had Percy.
You’d been harboring a crush on the boy ever since the start of third grade when you’d been put in the same class. You’d broken your red colored pencil while trying to draw Ariel and he’d offered up his without hesitation, the start of what most parents had called a “beautiful friendship.”
Somewhere along the line, around fifth grade, Grover had joined your group, your pair turning into a trio with an unbreakable bond. At least, you had thought it was unbreakable, they didn’t seem so now.
“Think she likes him?” Grover asked, pulling you from your thoughts.
“I don’t know,” you respond, “and I don’t really care.”
With that last sentiment, you began pulling your notebook out of your bag, deciding that you would continue working on the drawing of a demon you had started the previous week when you were still in a normal classroom.
“Is that the one Percy gave you?” Grover questioned, making you study the colored pencil you were holding.
“I guess so,” you mutter softly, twirling it in your hand.
“You still have that? Why?” To which you just shrugged.
“It’s a good pencil. The lead doesn't break.” You could tell that he didn’t fully believe your answer but thankfully he didn’t question it, instead picking up the book he had at his side and beginning to read.
You continued your silent activities until an arrow wizzed right past your head, barely missing you by an inch, startling you enough to make you fall backwards off the rock.
“What the hell!” You exclaim, rubbing your back as you sit up.
You look in the direction that the arrow came from and with deductive reasoning, seeing the bow in Annabeth’s hand and the arrow sticking into the tree to you left, concluded that she had been the one to fire the shot.
“That’s it,” you mutter, standing up and walking towards them, “I’m tired of them. I give up. I’m done.”
“Y/N,” Grover called out, beginning to follow you, “Y/N don’t.”
You ignored his plead, continuing to march your way over to the two imbeciles, your entire aura radiating anger and frustration, two emotions that most would not attribute to you.
“Listen here miss prissy,” you point to Annabeth, “I don’t really care what the hell you do, mean or otherwise, but the second you put my life or my friends’ lives in danger, that’s where I draw the line.”
“I’ve tried to be nice to you, I’ve tried to get along with you, I’ve tried it all. You just continue to be insufferable and immature,” you state, no longer caring about the looks you were getting from other campers, no even caring about the look she was giving you.
“And you,” you turn towards Percy, all the contempt you’d felt building over the weeks finally being let out, “you’re even worse than her.”
“Don’t even try to argue. The second we got here, the second you met her, you forgot I existed. You’ve been ignoring me for over a month, blowing me off constantly without a single thought. Can you even remember the last time we hung out? The last time you hung out with Grover?” You ask, watching as he tries to think of a time and comes up blank.
“I can’t believe I was ever friends with you,” you mutter, storming off to your cabin, Grover following close behind you.
A couple hours after Grover had left you to your devices, you hear a knocking at your door followed by a shout from your cabin leader, “Y/N, someone’s here to see you.”
“Just say it’s Grover,” you mutter, pressing your fingers to your temple at her high volume, “no one besides him ever comes to visit me.”
You're stopped dead in your tracks when you see Percy standing in front of you, a sheepish look appearing on his face when he finally catches sight of you.
“Hey,” Percy breathes, “can we talk?”
You go to try and shut the door in his face but he puts his foot in the doorway, stopping it from closing all the way. It was a clear indication that he wouldn’t leave without you hearing him out.
“I just want to apologize,” he states, looking at you pleadingly through the crack in the door.
“And why should I forgive you?” You really didn’t feel like having this conversation right now, especially not when you’re entire cabin had gone quiet to listen in on you.
“Just hear me out,” he asks, “just a few minutes of your time and if you still don’t forgive me, I’ll leave you alone.”
Knowing it was the only way to get him off your back, you open the door and begin walking in the direction of the lake. You wanted at least some semblance of privacy during this talk and the lake was your best bet.
“Go,” you order once you’d reached your destination.
“I know I’ve been a jerk. A stupid, selfish, insensitive jerk and I apologize. For ignoring you, for brushing you off, for everything. I shouldn’t had ditched you and it’ll never happen again. Also, don’t worry, I’ll apologize to Grover too. I just wanted to apologize to you first.”
After he said his piece, he waited for your response, watching you anxiously as you thought about what he said.
“I should apologize to you too, for blowing up at you earlier,” you finally say after a minute of silence, having given yourself some time to think about the real reason you were upset with him.
“No,” he shakes his head, “you have no reason to apologize.”
“But I do. You ditching me wasn't the only reason I was mad,” you say softly, knowing that you had to tell him or it would eat away at you until there was nothing left.
“It wasn’t?” He asked curiously.
“No, it wasn’t,” you mutter, “it was also because I like you.”
The quiet that followed you statement made you feel a level of stress and worry that you’d never felt before. The only way you could semi-calm yourself was to fiddle with your hands and look at anything but him.
“You like me?” He questioned, pulling your attention back to him, “you like me like me?”
“Yeah,” you mumble quietly, “I do.”
“I like you too.”
Your head shoots up at his words.
“Then why did you ditch me?” You wanted to know why he’d done what he did.
“I was trying to get over you. I’ve had a crush on you since we first met but you never didn’t seem to feel anything for me, I thought that hanging out with Annabeth rather than you would kill my feelings.” He explained, to which you pinched his shoulder.
“That was a really stupid idea.”
“Yeah, I know. In hindsight it was really stupid, but cut me a break, I’m not the most logical person,” he said, making you laugh.
“That’s true,” you speak through your laughter “you’re an idiot.”
“Shut up,” he grumbled, hiding his happiness to see you laughing.
After you finally stop laughing, you’re both left with grin on your face, everything sliding back perfectly into place.
Pompous Gits and Slytherins - Harry Potter Series Percy Weasley Imagine
Author’s Note: Ok, so I know technically no one asked for this. But I really couldn’t get this idea out of my head AND there was a Harry Potter marathon on TV today. I’m really not responsible for my actions, honestly.
I’m open for requests! I’d love to hear anything you guys have to say :)
Masterlist
Word Count: 2k
The potion was turning brown.
“Pompous git,” you muttered, frantically trying to pierce a Sopophorous bean with a silver knife.
“You were supposed, 3, to already have the beans, 4, cut,” Percy Weasley insisted. He was holding the cauldron at an angle, counting out loud as he dropped wormwood essence into it. “5. Are you almost done? 6. 7.”
“It wouldn’t kill you to go slower.” You caught the bean as it tried to bounce off the cutting board.
“8. It might, actually. 9. If I get a poor grade on this, 10, I’ll--”
“You won’t have perfect NEWTs and then you’ll never become Minister of Magic.” Slamming the flat of the knife onto the bean, you crushed it, releasing a thick, green juice. “Everyone knows your plans, Percy.”
As Percy leveled the cauldron, you scraped the juice in, speeding up its slow crawl across the board.
“Everyone also makes fun of your plans,” you added as you picked up a beaker filled with water and chopped up Valerian roots. You handed it to Percy so he could measure out seven drops. Last Potions class he’d called you “heavy-handed,” so you had decided that adding drops was now his responsibility. While you would be angry if he messed it up, you couldn’t deny that you’d also feel smug.
He began pouring, the tips of his ears turning a red that rivaled his hair. “I don’t see why anyone would make fun of them.” His voice sounded far more confident than he seemed to feel.
“Because you act like you’re better than everyone. Don’t you know that’s a Slytherin thing?” You arched an eyebrow and adjusted your green tie.
Percy refused to look up as he set the beaker back down. He only scowled at the table.
You rolled your eyes, picking up the wooden spoon and beginning to stir the potion clockwise. Percy eyed your movements like a hawk. “That was a compliment,” you said.
“I don’t see how.”
You completed the tenth stir, now staring at a pale lilac mixture, and offered the spoon to Percy. He took it with his right hand and began to stir counterclockwise, quietly counting the seconds each stir took.
“There you go again, acting as though you’re better than everyone. There’s nothing wrong with being a Slytherin.”
Percy briefly peeked up from the potion, which was growing paler by the second, to shoot a pointed look at the table in front of yours. Kaden Shafiq, a Slytherin notorious for bullying anyone who wasn’t a pure-blood, was stirring his potion and sneering at the Hufflepuff girl beside him.
“He’s an anomaly,” you assured Percy.
Percy didn’t seem convinced.
You picked the silver knife back up and began cutting a Valerian root into square pieces. “Most of us don’t believe in his ideologies.” Feeling Percy’s heavy stare, you amended, “Well, some of us don’t.”
“I caught some third years making fun of Ron for being a Weasley just yesterday.”
You glanced up, but Percy was staring at the potion. His lips moved silently as he counted. You looked back down at the Valerian roots. “I take it he wasn’t being made fun of for having the red Weasley hair?”
Percy sniffed haughtily and pulled the spoon out. The potion was clear as water. “You know what they were saying.” Percy took one of the squares of Valerian root that you’d cut up and dropped it into the potion. “They were calling him a blood traitor.”
You dropped another square in. “That’s radical thinking. I don’t believe that and I don’t associate with those who do. My parents don’t even believe that, and you know how backwards old pure-bloods can be.”
Taking another square, Percy gave you a measured look, as though he was trying to see if you were lying. After a few seconds, he turned back to the cauldron and added the Valerian root, looking unsatisfied.
To be fair, that could have just been his normal face. His lips seemed to naturally form either a pout or a frown, and his eyes, hidden behind horn-rimmed glasses, always seemed judgmental.
You picked up more Valerian root and let it fall into the potion. “How many squares was that?”
Horrified, Percy whipped around to face you. “You weren’t counting?” His eyes were huge, his freckled skin pale.
You laughed. “I’m teasing, that was 5.” You added another square to the clear, bubbling potion. “Care to do the last piece?”
Percy shook his head, frowning as you dropped in the last square of Valerian root. As soon as you pulled back your hand, he began stirring the potion counterclockwise. He seemed so concentrated that you found yourself wracking your brain to come up with something to distract him. To your surprise, he spoke first, his voice formal. “What are your plans for after graduation?”
The smile you had at him speaking first died on your lips once you processed his question. Buying time, you waited until Percy completed the tenth stir, then handed him the beaker of Powdered Root of Asphodel, waited for him to finish pouring, took it back, set it down, and finally said, “My plans are spreading around the school like wildfire.”
Percy took the cauldron in his right hand and started to stir with his left. “I haven’t heard.”
Your lips quirked into a small smile. “Of course you haven’t.” You toyed with the silver knife, not wanting to see his face. “I’m betrothed.”
“Betrothed?” Percy nearly dropped the spoon. His cheeks flamed, only growing redder when you helped him steady the cauldron. “You’re 17.”
“Exactly. I’m finally old enough for my parents to act on the plans they made years ago. Keep stirring, Percy.”
He reluctantly complied. “Who is it?” Every word out of his mouth seemed to offend him. He wouldn’t stop staring at you.
Steeling yourself, you said, “Some pure-blood old enough to be my father.” You looked back down at the knife, ashamed to be admitting it, ashamed to be ashamed, ashamed to be doing any of this in front of Percy Weasley, of all people. Head Boy Percy. Going to be the Minister Percy. “He doesn’t even live in this country. He’s off in America. Have you been counting the stirs?”
“Counting the...damn!” Percy quickly pulled the spoon out and set the cauldron back on the desk. He ran a hand through his hair as he peered at the potion. When he finally pulled away, his face was bright red, his hair was a mess, and his glasses were askew.
You laughed.
He frowned. “If you’re going to America, where will you work? I guess you could Apparate or use the Floo Network to get to the Ministry, but you wouldn’t even be living here--”
“My work is done. I found a husband.” Your words were so bitter you could taste them. “Slytherins are ambitious, but for the girls that only means being ambitious with your marriage options.” You chuckled, devoid of humor. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe Slytherins are awful.”
“But...but...you’re...smart,” Percy said, not even gloating over you saying he was right. His compliment came out stilted and awkward, like his lips weren’t used to forming the words. “How can you not work in the Ministry?”
The conversation was becoming painful. It felt like something was wrapped around your chest and squeezing, but you refused to cry, refused to show any sign of weakness. You needed the upper hand again. “Oh, Percy, you shouldn’t compliment a girl so much. Someone might think you’re in love.”
Percy spluttered and you decided you quite liked how a blush looked painted across his cheeks. “You can’t say that! Especially not when you’re--you’re--”
“Betrothed? I think it’s the perfect time to say something like that. Merlin knows I won’t have any fun after the wedding.” You pretended to mull over that thought, even though you’d spent the past week worrying about just that. “Probably not during the wedding, either. My mother will plan the whole thing, using the groom’s money, of course, which means it will manage to be simultaneously extravagant and dull. Maybe I’ll invite those twin brothers of yours to make things more exciting. Don’t worry, you can come, too.”
Percy shook his head. His cheeks were slowly returning to their normal shade of pale. You could see his freckles again. “I’ll have to decline.” Puffing his chest slightly, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “I’ll be working in the Ministry by then.”
He was looking for your approval, so you shook your head and sarcastically said, “Of course you will.” You checked your watch, eyed the cauldron, and dropped one last piece of Valerian root into it. The potion turned a pale pink.
You expected to hear a sigh of relief from Percy at the success, but instead, he said, “I will be in the Ministry.” He scowled as he ladled the potion into a flask to hand to Professor Snape.
The bell rang. You slid your textbook into your bag and stood. “And I’ll be the Minister of Magic.”
With that, you left the classroom, hoping Percy wasn’t as hurt as he’d looked. He started it. He didn’t have to rub his future in my face after I just admitted to having no future.
Even so, you felt off for the rest of the day. You bit back with more venom at your friends, you completed classes with a frown, and you snapped every time you heard someone gossiping about you. The mix of anger and guilt and anxiety only grew as the afternoon turned into evening, and it was time for you to do your duties as a prefect.
You knew who you would find waiting for you outside your common room.
Percy Weasley stuck out like a sore thumb in the dungeons. Sometimes you’d come out and make some teasing remark about that, but tonight you only nodded at him and began to walk.
Percy matched your pace. The air between you two was uncomfortable, the silence uneasy. You were climbing a set of stairs when Percy broke it. “Well,” he said, staring straight ahead, “are you going to apologize?”
“Why should I apologize? You’re the one who had to rub it in my face.”
Percy stopped in his tracks. “You’re not in the right here.”
You stopped too, crossing your arms and staring at him, fire brewing in your chest. Your fingers itched to grab your wand and hex him, to finally make him be quiet about his grand plans for the future. “Yes, I am. You’re not.”
Percy took a step forward. “All you Slytherins do is make fun of people for having goals. You’re supposed to be ambitious. You’re supposed to understand.”
You laughed. “We’re not the only ones making fun of you. Your brothers do it more than the rest of us combined.” He shifted his weight between his feet, but before he could speak, you said, “I don’t have a problem with your goals.”
He closed his mouth, watching curiously as you continued. Was that a glimmer of hope behind his glasses?
“I have a problem with your timing. You didn’t have to bring it up then. Not after...after I told you about what I’m doing.”
Any peace that might have been building was squashed.
Percy spun on his heel and began marching away. “I was hoping it would make you realize that you don’t have to settle for that.”
You glared and stormed after him. Grabbing his robes and pulling him back, you snarled, “You think I want to do this? I’d rather snap my wand!”
His eyes locked on yours. “So do something about it! You’re ambitious! You’re capable! You’re a Slytherin!”
And just like that, you were pulling him even closer, and your lips met in a clash of wills. His hands went to your waist. You didn’t realize you were backing up until you felt the stone wall behind you. Your heart beat furiously. One of your hands went to Percy’s face, felt the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, then moved into his hair, pulling on his red curls. He kissed you harder.
Maybe that git Percy Weasley had a point.
You were a Slytherin, after all. You could figure something out.
Request: @bengaliandslytherclaw “can you do a Fred Weasley x Reader post Hogwarts and war and also a Ravenclaw reader with a bit of angst and fluff mixed and maybe not in the Burrow thanks”
A/N: I hope I did your request justice. I just didn’t include the part about being a Ravenclaw since I couldn’t get it to appear naturally in the story. I hate the ending but I had fun writing it, I hope you enjoy it and please send in requests! I had a couple busy weeks but I have time now!
----
You took another sip of your tea looking out of the window in your shared apartment with Fred. Even though the war had long since finished, the pain that you felt was still very much prominent. All the loss, the grieving of so many people at the same time, all of the funerals that didn’t seem to end; the constant questions to which you could never actually answer truthfully, all of the “How are you holding up?” and “How are you feeling?” with those pitiful smiles that you dreaded; the tears that seemed to not be able to stop falling down anymore. Maybe it was better to become apathetic, maybe it was better to just not have a soul anymore, at least you wouldn’t be feeling like this, so depressed, so out of you, so dependent of other people to do your menial tasks that you couldn’t seem bothered to do anymore. It was too much, too much had happened in such a short amount of time, so many people had been killed right in front of your eyes, so many children, just finishing up their first year at Hogwarts, so many young people that could barely even count as teenagers yet, so many of them that had become orphans, you included, overnight. You had lost, along with your family, so many of your friends that it was almost impossible to know how you were even able to be coping with everything.
All the memories of you smiling, laughing, having fun seemed so distant at the moment, so far away, almost as if someone had them and told you about it afterwards, almost as if you had them but in another life, a life where you hadn’t known this kind of pain, this kind of dull feeling always present in your chest. It was hard to believe that Bill and Fleur’s wedding had been a mere year ago, not with all those laughs and kisses you had shared with Fred, in between all those glasses of champagne that were basically bottomless, something that you didn’t seem to be able to do now. Had your parents still been alive this day, they would have most certainly told you to stop shredding tears for the people you lost and instead focus on the people you have in front of you right now. Your mother would have most likely added that you shouldn’t be feeling like this since you knew what was to come before the war had even began, so you just should have been prepared.
The mug on your hands had long since gone cold, but you couldn’t be bother anymore, part of you felt maybe the cold your pair up well with the hot tears that started falling down your face once more. It had started to rain a while ago, adding so much unnecessary cliché to the moment. The front door opened and closed quietly, a tall red-haired emerging from it. You had noticed that the pain you were feeling in that moment seemed so less prominent that you it was supposed to, adding a tad bit of guilt to the list of emotions you had been feeling in the past days. Perhaps you had gone through so much and got hurt so much, so quickly that any of the really bad emotions you had been feeling was wearing off, you tried to reason with yourself, using the sleeve of your sweater to clean your tears away.
“Hey, love” Fred started kneeling in front of you, though you didn’t turn to meet his eyes. “Feeling any better?” You chose to ignore the generic question, you knew he already knew the answer by heart, he was just trying to strike up conversation, wanting you to talk the way you used to, so carefree
(so naïve)
So full of life, so excited
(so unexperienced)
You shook your head in your mind, trying to get all those thought out of it. The truth was that you couldn’t feel that way anymore, you couldn’t be happy, joyous- every time you tried to talk you seemed to get chocked up. You tried going to a therapist for a while, well, you tried many therapists, right after the war, but it made pretty obvious rather soon that none of them were going to work out since none of them could actually understand what you were going through, none of them could, none of them could understand what you felt, what you were still feeling.
“Mom is organising a family lunch tomorrow, if you feel like finally getting out of the house” the boy continued, unbothered by the lack of response or even movement from his girlfriend. “She specially requested your presence (Y/N), she even told me to go to the Burrow today, just the two of us, so we could spend the night there and maybe help out tomorrow, maybe it would take your mind off of things, keeping you busy. We could take the train there, or call for a car, if you don’t feel like using magic to travel.” You didn’t move, predictably- it had been like this for weeks. Him trying to sough out any sort of response out of you, inviting you to get out of the house, even if just to get breakfast at the café right next to your apartment building, cracking his usual jokes, retelling the pranks him and his twin had pulled back in their days at Hogwarts, giving you your favourite flowers and cooking meals for you since if he did not basically force-feed you, you would just neglect all kinds of food, your stomach too filled with anger and repulsion of surviving whilst your friends had all died in your place to accept anything willingly.
Fred sighed heavily, resting his hands on your thighs “Please, just say something, anything!” he looked at you, your face still facing the window, not a single muscle moving. “How long are you going to keep this up? Were all doing awfully you know, for Merlin’s sake, Georgie is half deaf, I almost died! But still, here I am, here we all are, trying to cheer you up, trying to get you to feel better, like we didn’t go through the same things!” It was the first time he had raised his voice at you, keeping any negative thoughts out of your way, preferring to take care of you instead.
“Oh, that is so nice of you!” you scoffed, finally turning to look at his face. It held a mixture of anger, relief and guilt. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t exactly need help, I don’t need you, Fred, your mother or anyone, as a matter of fact, to cheer me up.”
“Obviously you don’t. I am so sorry I spent all this time trying to get you back on your feet when you didn’t even need any help at all with it. So dumb of me to have missed how you’re already doing so well on your own. What an absolute wanker I am.” He threw his hands in the air, dramatically.
“Okay, I’m sorry, when exactly did you hear me say that I was ‘back on my feet’? I just said I didn’t need your constant smothering. I need to grief on my own.” You put down your mug on the tiny coffee table next to you. “You’re right, you went through some things I went through, but certainly not exactly everything. You didn’t see your best friend being killed right on front of your own eyes, you didn’t lose both your parents only a few hours apart and you certainly didn’t almost lose the person who had promised to marry you as soon as the war was over…” You added the last part in a whisper, almost uncertain if you really meant for him to hear it or not. Fred was shocked to say the least. Ever since the battle at Hogwarts, you two had barely spoken two words, not from lack of effort on his part, this had not only been his first time opening up but also yours.
“Do you have any idea what it was like hearing about the explosion and how it had caught you? Do you have any idea the fear I felt during those hours when you were unconscious? I had already lost so much; I couldn’t bear to even think I had lost you as well. Yet, I had to put up with seeing you laying in that bed, so much blood on you, your family around you crying so much that I could barely even comprehend it for a second. All those thoughts that had gone through my head during that time, all those “I have officially lost everything, my soulmate is gone as well” that kept popping every single time I thought they were gone for good, every…” she trailed off, resting her face in her hands “You’re right, I have been inconsiderate towards everyone lately, specially you, but I just got so close to never seeing you again that that has basically been all I could think about every time I look at you. A life without you in it, without you at my side, it’s just…” the warm tear started rolling down your face again, prohibiting you from continuing.
“I… I had no idea you felt like this. I can’t believe I actually put you through that” Fred took the opportunity to speak up once more, pulling you into his arms “I’m here now, I survived, right? Shouldn’t that be all that matters” he spoke quietly, softly, letting you cry on his shoulder “Why didn’t you just tell me how you felt? Why didn’t you tell me what you had been imagining?” He pulled you away from him, analysing your face, using his thumb to brush away your tears.
“It’s not like I could just go up to you right after the war had ended and tell you what everything that had gone through my mind during those hours. Not with everyone so relieved that you had survived, it wasn’t the right moment, and the, as time passed, I couldn’t bring myself to do so and I kind of just kept everything to myself, piling up all of my feelings. My parents were gone, Hannah was gone, and it just felt I had no one to talk to anymore…”
“You had me; you have always had me! It has been so awful to you lately I just wanted to get you to open up a bit, so… well, so this wouldn’t happen!” he smiled apologetically, pulling you into his embrace once again. “Oh, blimey, I can’t believe this, love. Look…, hey, look at me” Fred held your chin, hosting your head up “I’m here now, I pulled through, I’m with you now and, trust me, I’m not going anywhere. I regret to inform you that you’re basically stuck with me for life now, (Y/N).” You laughed a bit, he immediately smiled, it was the first time he had heard that wonderful smile in weeks and Merlin, had he missed it. “Promise me that any time you’re feeling something like this again, every time that you’re feeling, even if just a little bit, blue you’ll come to me, so we can do it, go through whatever it is, together.”
“Yeah, yes, I promise. It has been awful not talking to you, I missed you so much” He leaned forwards, capturing your lips in his. If there was a list of things he missed about you, kissing was certainly right at the top “Now, how about we start getting ready to go to your parents house? I reckon it’s time I left the house, I reckon I’m in need of a distraction and your mother is providing the perfect one” He didn’t answer, he just pulled you into his embrace again. After all this pain, it felt like heaven to be able to hold Fred once more.
