papa

notice how my face is on his peepee dni : dumbledoresdirtiestslut and dearestimsrry 🦄ravenclaw🦄

[tomriddlesdirtiestslut]

you belong with me || fred weasley oneshot

synopsis. you and fred have been best friends ever since first year: denying countless dating rumors and continuing to be glued together every hour of the day. but when fred asks for your help asking a girl to the yule ball, you feel… jealous? now you have to figure out how to get fred for yourself, something you swore you’d never do.

pairing. fred weasley x reader

content. friends to lovers, roommates with ginny and hermione, angst/light angst, original character (emily), suggestive fluff, NO INCEST!!

word count. 5k (im so sorry)

a/n. this was highly requested in the most recent poll! i’ll write theo next since he was #2!

fourth year meant a lot of things for hogwarts students. newt prep, hogsmeade, and most of all… the yule ball. 

hogwarts prefects earn their own train compartments as a job perk. so, ever since percy became a prefect, he allowed you, fred, george, harry, ron, hermione and ginny to all clamber into his new acquisition while he himself stayed in his girlfriend's compartment. it was the first year in any compartment without percy, and the change was noticeable.

“nice when there’s no one telling us to stay in our seats, right?” george snorted as ron chased a stray chocolate frog around the cramped space, despite hermione’s look of disdain. 

ron fell into his seat between fred and george, cupping his frog tightly between his hands. “right on.” 

 you sat directly across from them, next to ginny and hermione. 

freds face suddenly hardened. “blimey, is this what it’s like in a relationship? you forget about your friends?” 

“of course not!” you say defensively. “percy has a healthy balance.”

“why’re you defending him anyway?” fred asked, leaning forward towards you. “this is the first time you’ve talked all day.”

“what, are you keeping track?” ginny snorted. 

“don’t get pissy because she didn’t find the stupid broomstick joke funny.” hermione said.

harry and ron elbowed each other.

“fine, fine.” fred murmured, leaning back again, not breaking eye contact with you. “i’m just saying. when i inevitably get a girlfriend this year-” he paused to glare at george’s amused holler - “... i won’t forget you guys.” 

you chose to ignore the sentiment, refusing to meet his gaze as your eyes stayed glued to the window until you felt his eyes leave you.

first day introductions were the same as they always were. hermione stayed at attention while first years were sorted into their houses as the rest dozed off.

after sorting, you follow ginny and hermione to the girls' dorms to unpack, chatting mindlessly about whatever happened during the ceremony that was mildly interesting. once you are in total seclusion from the boys, ginny shuts the conversation down quickly.

“now that we’re alone…” she began, an excited look in her eyes. “fred asked for my help on something.”

hermione sat on ginny’s bed, interested. “does he like someone??”

ginny nodded with a grin. “he’s never come to me for stuff like this. and guess who it is?? emily!”

emily was the transfer student from beauxbatons. she transferred into hogwarts last year, after her family moved to britain from france. she was gorgeous, of course: with long black flowing hair and an effortlessly cool style... all the boys immediately were very interested. 

you feel your stomach drop and are unsure why. maybe it was the fact your best friend didn’t come to you for advice.

“y/n?” hermione asked. “thoughts?” 

somehow, hermione could sense you were upset about… something.

“tha… that’s great!” you said in a way you thought was convincing, giving a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “and he’s asking her to the ball, right?”

“no duh!” ginny continued, believing your reaction. “he’s going to try and get her to like him first, so he says.” ginny paused, remembering something.

“i’m going to be right back.” she finished, inevitably going to talk to fred.

hermione turned to you once ginny’s footsteps faded. "i won't tell ginny." she said quietly. "if you like him..."

you turned to her, an outraged look on your face. your mouth formed a perfect 'o'. "hermione?!"

she raised her hands innocently. "look, i can always tell. i'm just saying you can trust me."

you sigh, sitting down on your own bed across from hers. "is it really that obvious?"

"to me, yes." she said with a sympathetic smile. "but nobody else has a clue…” she bit her lip. “i think george is suspicious, though.”

"what?!" you shriek again. "how would they know?"

"well, I didn't say anything."

"wait a minute, hermione." you raise an eyebrow. "how did you know?"

she blushed. "you started being more... evasive. whenever anyone talks about fred. you get this look in your eye whenever he flirts as a joke-"

"alright, enough." you huff stubbornly.

"how long has it been going on?" "nothing's going on. i just started finding fred irritatingly... attractive."

hermione squealed.

"...and i'm going to sort it out."

"sort it out?" hermione's face changed. "a crush isn't something you can just sort out, y/n-"

"sure, it is." you said finally, settling the matter. "let's go to the common room party."

the party went on as always. some hogwarts version of frat hazing to the first years, fred and george engaging in borderline mean pranks...

that was, until fred caught sight of emily. it was like his whole demeanor changed. he started watching his long limbs, carefully maneuvering himself to appear what he would define as 'attractive'. george was gone in a millisecond.

"what a dork." george snorted from behind you, already evacuating fred’s scene. you turned, and he and oliver wood began playing a game of wizard's chess on the couch behind you.

"right." you laugh emotionlessly as you flop down next to them. you remember hermione's words "...george knows."

"i mean, it's clear he has it going for you." george continued, barely paying any mind to you.

"...huh?" you choke out, snapping back into reality. oliver chuckled.

"how can one be so oblivious?" oliver said, almost bitterly.

"george, he said himself he likes emily." you say, defending him.

"he says a lot of stupid stuff." george knocked wood’s piece off the board, then looked up at you. "he's just deflecting because he knows you'll never like him."

"why would he think that?" you try to say coolly.

"'cause he's tried to give you the hint for four years. feel bad for the bloke, honestly."

"aw." you say, heart racing. you are about to stand when-

"heyy guys!" fred says with a cheesy grin. "hey y/n!"

you can't help the blush that creeps across your face. "hi fred!" 

george and oliver stare at the chess board. hard. smiles poke at their mouths.

"how's emily?" you ask fred, trying not to appear nosy.

fred furrows his eyebrows. "how do you know about that?"

"it's obvious. why didn't you tell me?"

"ah... i don't know. thought it would be awkward." fred scratches the back of his head, suddenly nervous.

"it won't be." you punch his arm lightly, cheering him up. "you can tell me anything."

that seems to be the breaking point for george and oliver, who burst out laughing.

fred laughs at their strange behavior. "oi, what's the matter with you two?"

"nothing, freddy." oliver giggles.

fred rolls his eyes. "anyway, butterbeer this weekend, y/n?"

"yeah, yeah." you barely meet his eyes, responding dazedly as you watch him go back to george and emily.

"y/n and freddy sitting in a-" george starts before you kick his leg and stand as well.

"i'm going to have an early night. bye guys." you don't wait for their responses before briskly returning to your room and heaving yourself onto your bed.

was there any way you missed fred’s signals the past few years? if you hadn’t, would you have felt things sooner?

the dilemma weighed itself out in your head, but ultimately, you knew the true issue. if you don’t risk the friendship, risk the fact that fred probably didn’t like you like that anymore… emily was going to have him. 

that weekend, you nervously prepare yourself to grab ‘casual’ butterbeers with fred. you couldn’t stop thinking about how quickly things had changed. 

you supposed you realized you liked him last winter at the burrow: when you and fred stayed up late talking by the fire. but to tell yourself truthfully, you must’ve liked him for much longer. 

ever since then, you had been denying yourself. sleepovers with ginny became ‘avoid fred’ and he hadn’t got a clue. 

you put down the hairbrush and checked your phone. one new notification.

‘im outside’ from freddy.

talking to him was no problem. it was just as easy as ever to chat about the upcoming quidditch match, the food, the gossip. the problem was looking at him.

“... so i’ve been meaning to ask you.” fred continues, opening the three broomsticks door for you. “you’re a girl, right?”

“ha. ha.” you say with a dead face. fred chuckled at your expression.

“what kind of gifts do girls like?” 

you blush. was he really asking you about emily? what an idiot. “well, probably flowers or something like that.”

fred nodded his head and continued on to talk about how emily would probably like roses or something ‘romantic’. you kept thinking to yourself that he would surely find something else to talk about… ’any moment now.’ but fred kept on his chatter as you gave your mindless answers or dead-panned nodding, adding in a ‘mm’ or ‘wow’ as needed. every compliment he gave her felt like a stab to the heart. you wondered why you even asked him about emily in the first place. 

“...y/n??” fred said, snapping you out of it. you were already at the school gates.

“yeah, sorry.”

“wanna study in the library tomorrow?” “sure.” suddenly you wanted more than anything to get away from fred. “I have to go finish something in herbology, so i’ll see you then.”

you’ve already turned to leave, shuffling onto the grounds, tears welling up in your eyes and throat feeling chokey. of course it wasn’t fred’s fault. you asked for this, anyway.

“i can come with?!” fred shouted from behind you, frazzled at your rushed walk-off.

“it’s fine!” and you can’t hide the shake in your voice. thank god fred didn’t notice.

you enter the greenhouse, slamming the glass door behind you. you sniffle sadly, wiping your tears with your scarf.

“...y/n?” george whispered, unsure of how to react, stands suspiciously stiff at his torso while the mandrake in front of him buried itself deeper in a pot of soil.

you jump. “...ah, god. sorry george, i thought no one was in here.” you turn to leave.

“no, don’t.” george says quickly. “is… this…” he jabs a finger at your teary face “...about fred?”

“it’s not his fault.” you confess.

“what a jackass.” george rips out the mandrake from the pot, quickly muffling it’s ‘mouth’ so it’s screams don’t bust your eardrums. “why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“george.” you sigh at his naivety. “if you liked someone for four years and develop feelings for anyone else… wouldn’t it be smarter to pursue the latter?”

“bold of you to think fred’s smart.” george chortled. “...and if you’re using that logic, don’t you think he would have stronger feelings for you?”

“not buying it. alllll he did was talk about emily. i don’t think i heard a word he said after fifteen minutes.”

“when are you seeing him next?”

“library tomorrow.”

“let me guess, he made the plans?”

“sure, but we always hang out.”

“no offense, y/n, but you are blind. just watch, he’ll be flirting the whole time. i mean, he’s been doing this for so long. he’ll make excuses to touch you, pull out your chair, dumb jokes just to make you laugh…”

“oh come on, george. he’s being friendly.”

“i’m his brother. watch. tomorrow, you’ll see what i’m talking about.”

you return to the commons with a newfound hope that night, excited for the next day.

in fact, you barely got any sleep from the adrenaline. classes move at an achingly slow speed, partially due to the fact you refused to look in fred’s direction in the ones you shared. when they finally end, you race to the library.

snagging your and fred’s favorite seats (the ones by the window), you pull out your phone and text him.

‘i’m here!’

no response. to be fair, you were a bit early.

‘i got us our favorite seats!’

still delivered? a doubt begins growing in your mind. 

you wait for twenty more minutes before texting again. 

when you get back to the dorm, you think of last year. fred would have dropped everything to hang out with you. did everything really change? all because you couldnt catch a hint?

…looks like fred was making progress. and you couldn’t believe how wrong george was. i mean, if his own brother got this wrong, what chance did you really have?

when you found yourself walking to the same spot as the day prior, you expected things to go the same way. after ten minutes, you use basic pattern recognition skills and send fred one text.

this time, you get a text back immediately. 

somehow, it phases you worse the second time. maybe it was the fact that your dynamic was really changing. 

you click your phone off, dumping your bags on your bed.

“y/n…” hermione said gently, reading you as always. 

“it’s fine.” you lie.

“freds an ass.”

her rare vulgarity comforted you, and you felt it resonate with you more and more the next few months. 

ginny eventually found out about your affection, and of course endlessly apologized for her unwarranted excitement about fred’s crush at the beginning of the year. although ginny and hermione tried to comfort you without pushing you towards any direction, you knew what was best for the friendship dynamic. if you didn’t want to make things awkward, you best keep a bit of distance. 

so… at the end of every shared class with fred, when he tried to talk to you, packing his things hastily to rush to your desk, you were already out of the room and down the hall. 

when george tried to give you ‘hope’, you chose to believe he was joking. it wasn’t that hard. avoiding fred wasn’t hard. it was the feeling that came with it. every time you saw the shattered, confused look in his eyes after avoiding yet another interaction with him, it pained you. but you knew what was best for him. you were only keeping him from emily.

“seriously, y/n.” hermione began one day at dinner, in the tone of a concerned mother. “you aren’t acting like yourself. you’re avoiding every hangout where fred is involved! i mean, the others are catching on.”

“... what is your plan?” ginny asked honestly.. “are you just going to ignore him until the ball?”

 “what other choice do i have…” you thought glumly, on your way back to your dorm after dinner, abandoning the girls to go study. unfortunately, things don’t always go the way you plan them.

“oi!” fred shouted, catching up to you, suddenly at your side. it feels like your heart stops. “...you don’t even know how hard it’s been trying to find you. what, are you mad at me or something?”

“no.” you say untruthfully.

“Oh please.” fred scoffed lightheartedly. “seriously, what did i do? i didn’t even know you were capable of holding a grudge for this long.”

“you didn’t do anything, fred.”

“have you been avoiding my texts?” fred asks abruptly.

“no.”

“well that is bullshit.” fred suddenly says, more seriously. “okay, you know what? if you don’t want to tell me why you’re mad, at least let me make it up to you.”

you already imagine fred flaking once more.

“shopping? like last year?” 

his earnest tone makes you unable to deny him. “i guess.”

just like always, you curse yourself for getting nervous and being excited. when hermione and ginny get back to the dorm, you pretend to be asleep to avoid their well-meaning pity.

that weekend, when you get the familiar ‘open ur door’ text from fred, you can’t help your heart racing. of course, he looks handsome as usual. his hair has already grown out and is almost past his ears, compared to his neat haircut ms. weasley gave him at the beginning of the year.

he wears his “f” knitted sweater he got for christmas. it’s chilly outside, but in your appeal to look nice you wear something less appropriate for the weather. you know you shouldn’t be trying to ‘look good’ for him, that is, if you’re going to try and lose feelings.

it was your first time talking to fred in months. you felt like you were betraying your past self, who swore to avoiding him. but something about fred seeking you out, relentlessly looking for you just to see you…

who were you to resist?

you notice a difference in fred’s mannerisms. could it be possible he had matured over three months? he made more jokes, some cornier than others. he kept his eyes on you the whole time you talked, which of course made it impossible for you to look back up at him.

and other than that, he was a complete and utter gentleman. he was never unkind to you, but now he was different. like a… refined fred. 

at honeydukes, he bought you any candy you eyed. at gladrags, he suddenly had fashion insights, holding up articles of clothing – “do you like this one?” – and buying them for you.

the day ended with a feeling you hadn’t quite had in a while. hope, excitement and utter infatuation. fred held countless bags, bantering with you at a speed you had been reminiscing of. hogsmeade was bustling with students on late-night endeavors, chilled by the windy night air. fred talked about some funny story that you had missed when avoiding being around him. harry and ron had done some stupid thing like always…

“-are you cold?” fred asked suddenly, noticing your rigid demeanor.

“ah, a little.” you mumble, embarrassed. 

fred doesn’t waste a second before silently passing you his knitted sweater.

“thanks.” you murmer, pulling it on. a comfortable silence grows between you. you tried to ignore the blush creeping over your cheeks, the shift in energy that suddenly made the cold environment feel warm.

you fumble with the intricate knitting of the sweater frayed at the bottom. you can feel fred’s eyes on you. 

‘this is not how i remember hanging out with fred last year.’ you thought, silently commemorating the friendly banter and family dynamic you thought you shared… or was it ever really just that? 

fred’s demeanor suddenly shifted: he stood up straighter, hands in pockets. you look up, and shift as well. 

emily and two of her companions walk into hogsmeade, down the short and what suddenly felt very narrow path. she looked you up and down, not unkindly, but noticeably observing how close you and fred stood and the sweater you had on. you think she knew your name didn’t start with an ‘f’. 

fred swallowed, adams apple bobbing. you cursed yourself for thinking what you had been a second prior.

“...so how is it with you and emily?” you say, voice shaky.

“oh, right.” fred said, peeling his eyes off you and forward. “you know, i’m running out of ways to get her to laugh.”

“that’s weird.” you chortle. “since when does fred weasley have a cap on jokes?”

fred smiled to himself. 

“can’t you prank somebody or something? i always loved those.” you ask.

“who would i prank? i don’t have any enemies… yet.” fred thought for a moment. “would you mind..?”

your stomach drops. you really didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of emily. but fred had pranked you so many times before, and you had never been ‘embarassed’. 

“sure.” you try to say coolly. 

the topic, like always, shifts back to emily. you were used to it. it felt less… emotional than talking about yourself. 

by the time fred dropped you off at the girls dormitory, you were utterly exhausted. you made your way to your room…

“y/n?” a chill goes down your spine when you hear emily’s voice.

“oh, hi!” you say in a voice that didn’t sound like yours. “emily, right?”

“yeah.” she gave a tight lipped smile that almost looked like a grimace. the expression she gave was like she was thinking of small talk to give but couldn’t think of anything. “you… you and fred don’t have anything going on, right?”

you swallow painfully, “no, no, of course not!” you say too quickly. emily looks at your sweater, unable to hide her curiosity. “...i was just cold.”

emily smiles, relieved. 

“i hope he asks you to the dance, emily.” you say quietly to her back before turning to your room, not waiting to see her undoubtedly thankful expression.

what have you gotten yourself into? emily’s agreeability made it so hard to hate her. how could you try to put yourself between her and fred? 

you leave fred’s sweater in the dorm, leaving your room only after breakfast was over to avoid seeing him entirely. 

even being in the same room as him in potions and charms was impossible. it’s like he remembered you existed. he threw crumpled up paper balls at your back, surely engraved with a funny or charming note.

you ignored it.

when snape asked for everyone to find a partner, you grabbed the nearest person and winced at freds shocked expression.

instead of waiting for fred after the last class or returning to your spot in the library, you scurry to the common room. 

when you get to the portrait and say the password, you hear a devastatingly familiar voice behind you say it too.

“...hi y/n.” he said quietly. “‘gonna tell me why you’re ignoring me?”

“‘m not.” you lie.

“come on, y/n. why can’t you just tell me what’s going on? i thought you forgave me for whatever i did?!” fred grew frustrated at your detachedness and stepped in front of you, blocking the entrance to the commons.

“i told you! you did nothing wrong.” and you knew you were being unfair. “if you’ll excuse me-”

as you pushed past his unwilling, tall stature and step through the portrait frame, you hear an almost noticeable ‘click’, as if you had walked over an invisible tripwire.

without a second's notice, pounds of glitter, multicolor and sparkling, rained over you. you looked down at your hands and are almost unable to see the color underneath the grains. in front of you, in the common room, emily and her cohorts laugh at the sight. even harry and ron laugh. 

you swipe the glitter off your face and turn furiously to fred. “how dare you!” you shriek indignantly. the laughter stops immediately.

his hands reach out towards you but you spin around and storm towards the girls dormitories. fred follows, ignoring the eyes of the dozen students around you. 

you march up the stairs. fred follows.

“you aren’t allowed up here!” you say suddenly, making fred trip backwards at your sudden approach. “it’s- it’s girls only!” you wipe the tears from your eyes and ignore the crack in your voice.

“y/n, seriously.” fred says pleadingly. “i swear i forgot to dismantle it from this morning, you said i could prank you-”

“i know what i said, thank you very much.” you huff. you go up further to your dorm and slam the door open to your empty room, knowing fred was behind.

he was saying something, some apology you didn’t want to hear. he had never done a prank so… insensitive like this.

“what went wrong?” fred asked, holding the doorway. he was already in girls territory, and entering your room felt wrong.

and not only so, he was afraid to approach your crazed self, which was ransacking your own dresser in search of something.

“i was humiliated.” you seeth, unable to stop the pitchiness in your voice and tears streaming down your face. “you never pranked me like that.”

“i know i went too far.” fred said quietly.

“you did.” you say finally, pulling out fred’s maroon sweater from your drawer.

finally meeting his gaze and walking towards him, his eyes widen seeing the clothing article in your hands.

“no you don’t-” he said, pushing the thing away.

“yes. i. do.” you say, pushing it back towards him. there was a brief silence before you spoke again. “emily laughed. she thought it was funny. so maybe you should just go to her.”

“y/n-”

“and another thing. she asked if there was anything between us. don’t worry weasley- i assured here there wasn’t.”

fred winced at the name. not even fred? you had never been so cold with him.

“please just let me speak-” fred asked, eyebrows furrowing. He threw his hair back with one hand, a sign of nervousness he rarely displayed. 

“no.” you say, nervous at the prospect. you shoved the sweater into him in one final swoop and shoved the door closed onto him.

a loud “shit!” reverberated outside your room. 

you spent the next hour picking glitter out from your hair and throwing away the clothes you had been wearing, all while blotting your eyes with tissues.

when hermione and ginny returned to your shared room for the night, hermione removed the glitter with one flick of the wand and ginny comforted you: “fred’s an idiot.” 

but when the lights turned off and you all lay in your separate beds, you felt as if you needed to be alone. being in the same room as ginny, who was going to the dance with neville, and hermione, who was dancing with krum…

you made your way to the commons in your pajamas, quietly sneaking down the steps hoping to sit by the fire.

when you enter the shared space, you freeze.

…fred.

fred noticed you immediately, suddenly sitting straight where he had previously been slouched on the couch. 

you silently creep onto said couch, sitting at a noticeably far away spot from him.

“listen.” fred said carefully, weighing out his words. “i didn’t mean to hurt you. you loved when i pranked you.”

you choked back the knot in your throat. “because you were- you were trying to make me laugh!”

“i wanted you to laugh today, too!” he cried, raising his arms.

“no you didn’t.” you say, almost inaudibly. “don’t lie, fred. it was all for emily.”

fred opened his mouth, actually taken aback. “is that what you’ve been so mad about?”

“no.” you heave, then winced at the blatant lie. “yes. fred…”

“did george tell you i liked you?”

you perked up.

“since first year.” fred looked at you seriously. “is it really my fault for moving on? was i supposed to wait forever?!”

“you didn’t have to move on.” you furrow your brows, looking as mad as he looked confused.

“...what?”

“i said you-” you wipe your tears again, choking back more. “you know how hard its been? every time i stopped avoiding you, you would talk about emily. and i’ve tried so hard to push it back, but it hurts so much when all you do is tell me about her!”

“i do not-” fred spluttered furiously. “haven’t you thought that maybe my feelings hadn’t changed?”

“i’ve thought that maybe im getting between you and emily.”

“no.” fred’s mouth goes dry. “y/n- you could never.” he moves closer to you on the couch. “emily is… sweet.”

“oh, great, here he goes again.” you scoff, and fred laughs shakily.

“let me finish. emily is sweet, and pretty. there’s nothing wrong with her… but she’s not you.”

you swallow. “...what?”

“she’s not you.” fred said, more confidently. “she’s- she’s like a distraction from the real stuff. I kept trying to make myself like her because you didn’t want me.”

your heart swelled and you suddenly noticed how little space there was between you. “you didn’t have to do that, fred.” you whisper.

“i really didn’t, did i?” he said with a pitiful grin. you felt your heart hammering in your chest, looking up at him.

he looked back at you, eyes flickering away and then back as if he couldn't keep them off you. like they magnetized his.

fred weasley never looked unsure... until now?

you could see his chest growing and falling rapidly. you knew yours was too.

“please don’t run again-” he began, but you didn’t let him finish.

you closed the distance between you without thinking.

he caught you around the waist, allowing you to swing your arms over his shoulders. for a millisecond, he barely moved, like he couldn’t believe what was happening.

then out of nowhere, he pulled your torso closer to his and kissed you back with a groan, with hunger, and surely like he was waiting for the years he was.

his hands ran down your back.

you ran a hand through his hair, desperately kissing him like you would never get a chance to again, eager to no longer be denying what you felt for him-

a gasp. 

you pulled away from each other, looking up at the entrances to the girl and boy dormitories where hermione, ginny and george stood.

“... merlin.” fred said at the three guilty figures, a red blush creeping over his cheeks. they looked as if they’d walked into a crime scene.

‘told you.’ george unmistakably mouthed to you, before hurrying back to his room. hermione stuttered out an insincere apology and took ginny back the other way- who was giggling uncontrollably.

and you laughed too, fully relieved, looking up at fred.

he just smiled at you, searching your face. “looks like the secrets out.”

"...finally."

ok so boom.

guys no spelling corrections this is EXTREMELY messy and i know i repeat stuff like 20x in the plot but just let it happen ok papa~

please hit that like button if you love me~

[nonbeliever1]

and if I said we should bring back 2020 slytherin boys react ?

[dumbledoresdirtiestslut]

what the FUCK gave u the audacity. u wan beef? im writing a fanficc about this

tomriddlesdirtiestslut... you're dealing with forces you cant even begin to comprehend. me and my three likes will take you and your fans down. dont start battles you can not win, mijo.

[tomriddlesdirtiestslut]

(pls vote even if u dgaf about me)

who should be in the next fic

george/fred

harry potter

draco malfoy

theodore nott

lorenzo berkshire

mattheo riddle

blaise zabini

ron weasley

tom riddle

Voting ended onJul 26

[tomriddlesdirtiestslut]

POV: hp boys text you thinking they're texting their friend... pt.2

type :: plain fluff

tw/cw :: none

contains (in order) :: blaise, harry, cedric, fred, george

notes :: still not dating

a/n :: thank u for reading mijo. go ahead and like for me. feedback appreciated in da comments.

[tomriddlesdirtiestslut]

Thinking about arguing with Enzo…

synopsis :: everyone says things they dont mean in an argument. the problem is… how do you forgive them? 

pairing :: lorenzo berkshire x reader

tw/cw :: none

word count :: not telling

a/n :: pls interact or comment if u want to be mutuals im soooo lonely gah~

angry!enzo doesn’t know how to express that he is humiliated that his girlfriend saw him lose a brutal slytherin match.

angry!enzo can't display his self-deprecation normally. when he catches site of you after the game, his stomach drops. he hopes you don't come up to him. he's too embarrassed.

angry!enzo feels angry when you do. of course you would, you're his loving girlfriend. but in enzo's mind, you being near his own shameful self... a horrid thought.

angry!enzo doesn't know what to say. in his mind, you were cheering for a loser. so when you tell him "good job" and "better luck next time"?

angry!enzo tells you to stop babying him. that he doesn't need your pity. that maybe you should've have come to the game at all.

angry!enzo says that he wished you weren't so nagging. rubbing the loss in his face. he says everything he had been telling himself. it felt easier than to talk about feelings.

angry!enzo watches your confused face turn to shock turn to... hurt? you never looked at him like that before. usually, he would be the one protecting you from having that look. now who is he supposed to protect you from? himself?

angry!enzo when the adrenaline wears off... sees that he messed up, big time. he tries to grab your wrist, but you're gone. down to your dorm.

angry!enzo calls your name. everyone in the hallway knows that he screwed up another relationship. usually, he would leave them that way.

angry!enzo knows that you're different. he knows you know about his 'passed around' reputation. now he proved you right.

angry!enzo curses himself internally. he was good at messing things up. he was never good at fixing them.

...but i guess there is a first time for everything.

thank u for reading bebe. if u like this pls smash that subscribe button and also interact so i make part two (maybe full fic this time?)

[tomriddlesdirtiestslut]

POV: the slytherin boys text you thinking it's their friend.

type :: plain fluff

tw/cw :: none

contains (in order) :: tom, draco, mattheo, theo, lorenzo

notes :: you aren't dating in this👀

interact for a pt.2 with blaise, hp, cedric, ron, fred and george (and more?)

p.s... this is my first post!! feedback encouraged!!

[dumbledoresdirtiestslut]

can u make tom riddle smut

i would LOVE too but i got into a pretty bad krav maga accident a while ago and its difficult for me to write this kind of stuff what with all the agony. DO YOU EVEN CONSIDER HOW DIFFICULT IT IS TO BE A FCKING PETER GRIFFIN YUMESHIPPER? THATS A FULL TIME JOB ON ITS OWN DONT ASK ME STUPID QUESTIONS. FUCK YOU AND YOUR TOM RIDDLE FANFIC.

[tomriddlesdirtiestslut]

how can one be so selfish

[rarebambi]

…YOU LOVE ME, DON’T YOU?

in which… your boyfriend tom comes back to your dorm annoyed, so you decide to try and help him feel better. requested by anon here ; i don’t write for tom riddle so i hope this was okay love! (masterlist) (nav)

the tension was thick, making the air feel heavy. tom had walked in, obviously annoyed — when wasn’t he — as he set his books down onto your dorm room table.

you didn’t know what to say to him, he probably would shut down if you forced him to talk about it. so you showed him.

you walked over to the tall brunette, lacing your arms around his shoulders and looked up at him. your eyes met his intimidating glare, holding your gaze for a second too long before you made your move.

it started small, a few pecks up and down his neck before moving to his cheeks, then his lips. the kiss started sweet, no words needed. just two lovers entangled in each other.

tom’s body language changed. suddenly, he turned to face you, arms wrapped around your waist as he dragged his hands up and down your body.

he was hungry, practically eating off your face. you smiled into his lips, your plan had worked. although, when you tried to pull away to talk to him, his hand darted to your neck to keep you there with him.

“stay.” tom demanded. nothing was sweet anymore. tom’s tongue fought for dominance in your mouth, all while his hands grabbed at your ass.

you squirmed in his arms, keeping your lips connected with his as he somehow got closer to you. tom kissed you passionately, like you were the last woman alive. then, a nearly inaudible sound left his mouth, a small whimper.

tom riddle had whimpered.

the dark lord.

he immediately pulled back, face trying to remain straight but red cheeks gave him away in a second. still, he just stared at you, all while his hands ravenously groped your ass.

“you love me, don’t you?” you asked while giggling, smiling at tom’s embarrassed face.

“hush.” he twitched, leaning in for another kiss.

tessa’s notes… okay so boom trust me more will be out soon i just have a lot of requests to get through!!

taglist… @devotedlyteenagemusic @kimberlyxmalfoy @theosamore @misamanson @coryoslut @barkingtoenail @theosamore @loserginger @ahoodgirl @nottendo @slvt4subchratt @courta13 @myunperfektstorys

comment to be added or removed.

© rarebambi

[tomriddlesdirtiestslut]

daddy likey

[halles-notebook]

stay

pairing: tom riddle x fem!shy!reader

warnings: literally nothing this is just disgusting fluff and softness😞

summary: you bring tom riddle, the dark lord, cookies at midnight.

word count: 1,336

a/n: hello my lovelies! i’m so happy i’m finally able to get out a tom and shy!reader work, they’ve been on my mind for a while and i hope you guys enjoy them!!💗💗 tom & jerry? nah. tom & cookies.

the sound of your shoes against the marble was a soft padding, rhythmic and steady along the darkened halls. it was nearing midnight, the time when even the portraits along the walls had tired of their gossip and fallen into slumber, and yet here you were, out past curfew with a tupperware of warm snickerdoodle cookies in hand.

you walked away from the point where you had left a small handful of treats for mrs. norris, a trick you had learnt long ago, and towards the dungeons, the air growing cooler and increasingly intimidating with each step. at this hour, it felt like eyes were on you from all angles, and you fastened your pace despite feeling silly.

you rounded a corner and there stood that familar stone door with faded, cryptic markings of snakes and other sorts. the whispered password left your lips, sounding entirely too loud in the echoed silence of the halls, and you watched as a stone snake slithered up from floor and around the door, opening with a hiss.

you pushed the door open further with a soft nudge, creeping inside before shutting it behind you as softly as possible. the common room was barren except for one or two bleary-eyed stragglers, but you hadn’t expected tom to be there anyways. no, you knew he’d be in his dorm, lost in his studies as he so frequently was, unaware to anything else— even to his own thirst or hunger, at times.

nobody paid you any mind as you steered through the common room and up to the prefect dormitories, settling at the top of the stairs with clammy hands. you paused for a beat, persuading yourself to knock on the door. it’s not that you thought tom would greet you with disdain, never. but tom was… well, tom. intimidating and powerful and seemingly so far out of your reach at times, especially when you got into your own head.

you were being foolish, you knew you were, so you steeled yourself, raised your fist to the aged walnut, and rapped softly against the wood in succession, breath caught in your lungs. nothing. nothing for a moment long enough to convince yourself that this was a terrible idea and that you should turn around and leave at once, but just as you were about to, a voice spoke from the other side.

“come.”

the command was deep and muffled from the hardwood separating you, but compelling nonetheless. your fingers met the cool grain of the handle, and before you could even twist, the door was opening. you stepped in and heard the soft click of the door shutting behind you, locking on its own. there tom was, sat at his desk, posture perfectly straight, quill in hand writing a variety of things you probably couldn’t comprehend, especially this late at night.

“i wondered how long you’d stand there before announcing yourself.” tom stated, not looking up, and you flushed at the realization he knew you were there the whole time, arguing with yourself inanely. you tightened your grip on the plastic container and took a step forwards, heart racing. only then did tom look at you, eyes cold and calculating but softening nearly indecipherably at the image of you, stood there anxiously in a sweater much too big for your frame.

“i, uhm.. i brought you something.” you winced at the way your voice came out, pitchy and teetering on the verge of shakiness. his eyes traced your face and followed your movements as you delicately held out the sweets to him. his brows furrowed together, and in this lighting, you could make out the veiled exhaustion hiding in the planes of his face, shown in the almost unnoticeable discolored circles under his eyes and in the way his cheekbones had slightly sunken.

you could see the confusion lining his features as his hand reached out, slowly— as if the tupperware would bite him— and grasped around the container, taking it gently from your grip. he looked down at the item, and then up at you, and then down again, before finally unclasping the top and placing it to the side with focused precision. the aroma of baked sugar, butter, and cinnamon immediately jumped around the room, almost startling in its haste of seeping into your senses. tom, too, look startled, finally seeming to realize that you had brought him, tom marvolo riddle, cookies at 12:00 in the morning.

“you made these.” it wasn’t a question so much as an asserted recognition, laced with perplexity and practiced aloofness. you answered anyways, a ‘yes’ so quiet it could be swept away by an oncoming breeze. tom hesitated briefly before picking up one of the snickerdoodles, examining it with care as if it was a ancient relic to be studied rather than a sweet you baked with flour coated fingers.

after a thorough inspection, he finally brought it to his lips and took a small, careful bite, his eyes on yours— or rather, on the way your fist tightened on the hem of your sleeve in a restraint to not pick at your nails, a jittery habit you knew tom despised. it was true, he did despise the way speckles of blood appeared in your nails wake, staining your skin in the most unpleasant shade. it looked wrong there, and it stood out much too loudly, so much so that it distracted tom. why, he couldn’t quite comprehend, but he loathed it, and so you made an effort to stop.

your white-knuckled grip on that striped sweater led tom to the fascinating epiphany that you were worried. worried that he wouldn’t like the baked good that you had clearly put effort into, and to his great surprise, you were wrong. tom was never much of a fan of sugar, but the mix of flavors settling on his tongue was actually… good. perhaps it was the subtle tanginess that snickerdoodle was known for combatting the sweetness, or perhaps it was because it was you who had made it, but tom found himself taking another bite unprompted.

at his carefully detached visage, you made a move to explain yourself. “i knew that you’d still be up because of that essay you mentioned yesterday, and you weren’t at dinner, so i thought that maybe you were.. hungry? you don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it, though!” you maundered quickly, jumbled and concerned.

his throat worked as he swallowed, only now recognizing the faint pangs of hunger reverberating through his abdomen. his eyes locked onto yours, dark and captivating, practically holding you hostage in his gaze.

“thank you.”

the sincerity in the syllables startled even tom, who frowned as he reached for another cookie, as if his hand itself was betraying him. you blinked, eyes wide, before you felt your shoulders begin to drop and your limbs begin to relax. a smile crept across your face, slow and soft, and you found your cheeks heating.

“you’re welcome, tom.”

he paused for a moment, as if his name on your lips had rendered him wordless, and then…

“stay.”

it wasn’t a request, but he made it sound like one, gentling his tone in an attempt to assuage you. your mouth opened. closed. opened again.

“i don’t…” you started aimlessly.

“please.” it was a word tom disliked very much, but for you? it had came out almost naturally. he hated that. he hated the thought of you leaving even more.

your lip found its way in between your teeth, getting gnawed on unpleasantly as your eyes darted around, surveying. you looked at tom, wholly focused on you, and sighed, releasing your trapped lip. you nodded.

“okay.”

it was a quiet agreement, whispered like a soft defeat in the quiet of the night. tom nodded as well, satisfied.

“okay.”

yet as he made room for you to curl up in his arms as he worked, he felt better than okay. he felt a word he dare not name.

tag list: @itsravenclaw379 @booksstarryskies @stwrlghts

[tomriddlesdirtiestslut]

[lumosollie]

making out with sirius before his quidditch match !

sirius had you pressed back against the cool stone wall, his lips moving urgently against yours, one hand tangled deep in your hair while the other slid down your side, fingers digging into your hip like he needed you closer.

you kissed him back just as fiercely, arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in until there was no space left between you. his mouth was warm and insistent. every time you tried to catch your breath he chased it, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, tongue brushing yours in a way that made your knees weak.

you felt the rapid beat of his heart under your palm when you pressed it to his chest. his free hand wandered lower, squeezing your thigh and hitching it up around his hip, grinding into you with a low groan that vibrated through the kiss.

“sirius,” you murmured against his mouth, but he swallowed the word, kissing you harder. his fingers traced the hem of your jean skirt, slipping underneath to brush bare skin. you shivered, clutching at his shoulders, nails digging in just enough to make him hiss softly.

he pulled back for half a second, only to trail hot, openmouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. you tipped your head back, eyes fluttering shut as his teeth grazed that spot that always made you weak. one of his hands cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek while the other kept exploring, possessive and hungry.

“we’re going to be late,” you breathed, even as you arched into him. your fingers threaded through his dark hair, tugging lightly the way he liked. “the match--”

“mm..don’t care,” he mumbled into your skin, sucking a mark just below your ear. his voice was rough, breathless.

you laughed softly, the sound turning into a gasp when he rocked his hips forward again. his hand slid higher under your jean skirt, gripping your waist with both palms now, thumbs pressing into your ribs like he was memorizing every inch. you kissed him again, slower this time but no less intense, pouring everything into it; worry, affection, and that sharp thrill of almost getting caught.

his robes were rumpled now, your shirt untucked, hair messy from his hands. when he finally drew back, lips swollen and eyes dark, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing hard.

“for good luck,” he whispered, a crooked grin breaking through. “can’t play without it, love.”

“you’re going to be so late.”

“worth it.”

[tomriddlesdirtiestslut]

🥵🥵🥵