Summary: Y/N and Pedro have been friends ever since they met through mutual friends, but with such a large age gap between the two, Y/N didn’t think anything would change, but sometimes things work out differently than she would expected.
Word Count: 5,208
Warning(s): SMUT! Age gap, creampie. (Be safe, life is not a fanfiction!) FLUFF
A/N: I hope you guys love this as much as I loved writing it! And a huge thank you to my best friend @13dead-ends for getting me through some major writing’s block! Go check her page out for some AMAZING Henry Cavill writing!
Masterlist
“Pedro,” You giggled into the phone, staring at your own reflection in the mirror. You looked like a mess, hair in a bun on the top of your head, the makeup you were wearing for the girls night out was now smudged around your eyes, looking like a disheveled raccoon. “Pedro,” You repeated, watching the way your lips moved when you said his name. “I’m… I had so much fun tonight.” you started, thinking back to the many shots you had throughout the night, the drunken laughter that you shared between your friends. You could still hear them laughing about something through the thin bathroom door. You glanced down at your feet, the tight clothes you wore thrown around and you were wearing shorts and a t-shirt, but even after all this fun you had with your friends, and how this was a memory you were going to look back on for so long, all you could think about was Pedro.
Little Evans rushes into the room after opening the door. He’s supposed to be in the other room enjoying cartoons with Chris’ assistant Daphne as his dad does interviews with you and Mark Ruffalo.
“Bubba,” Chris said as his toddler heads straight to you. “What are you doing in here?”
“Mama,” Jackson said.
The interviewer gasped. You’re not surprised at the name and neither is Chris. Jackson has called you it multiple times before and you don’t mind at all. You see the kid quite a lot since you keep managing to get roles with his dad. You also spend a lot of time with them even if there’s no movie or show to be filmed.
“Hi, Jackie,” you said as Chris picks him up and puts him on his lap.
He smiles at you and squirms out of his dad’s lap. Jackson climbs into your lap and happily snuggles with you.
“Oh I see how it is. I’m being replaced,” Chris said.
“Get over it,” you said. “He’s my boo.”
“Blankys?” Jackson said looking at his dad. “Ellies, pwease? Pwease?”
“Hang on, Bubbas,” Chris said standing up.
He briefly apologizes to the interviewer for stepping out but she doesn’t mind.
“Now, we run with the kid,” Mark said.
“Let’s go,” you joked along.
“No, Mama,” Jackson said shaking his head no making the three of you laugh.
“Y/n’s clearly his favorite. Nobody can compete with her not even dad,” Mark said.
“Of course not, I bribe him with candy,” you said.
“What was that?” Chris asked coming back in.
“Nothing,” you lied.
He’s got the stuffed elephant and Jackson’s Thomas the Train blanket that he adores. His son happily takes a hold of his elephant and Chris drapes the blanket over his shoulders.
“Tanks yous, Papas,” Jackson said laying his head right over the center of your chest as he holds his stuffed elephant in one arm close.
“You’re welcome, Bubba,” Chris said. “What were you guys talking about?”
Your arms wrapped around Jackson and you rub his back. It makes Chris smile. You’re the closest person that Jackson has gotten to a mom. His own abandoned Chris at the hospital with him. She didn’t want kids but knew Chris did.
“Is Y/n the favorite out of the cast for your son, Chris?” The interviewer asked.
“Of course,” Chris said. “Jackson is very much attached to her. I think I’m gonna have to bring her back to Boston with us to save myself from the water works.”
Jackson looked up at you with his brown eyes and father’s long lashes. You let your thumb gently brush across his cheek.
“He’s my favorite Evans,” you stated.
“No, duh,” the boy’s father sassed. “He gets all your attention.”
“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you,” you said looking at Chris.
Chris scoffed making Mark laugh.
“We can see right through you,” Mark said.
~~~
“You ready for dinner, Bubbas?” Chris asked slipping on his jacket.
“Is Mama gonnas be theres?” Jackson asked.
“Yes, we’re even picking her up,” Chris said picking up his little man.
Jackson squealed in excitement making Chris chuckle. He soon heads out the door and to the elevator. He presses the button up. You’re on the floor above them. If you and them had it your way, you’d be in the connecting room beside them and the connecting door would be open for Jackson so he can hangout with you.
“Mama!” Jackson squealed running out of the elevator doors seeing you in the hallway.
“Jackie!” You squealed.
You pick him up and his arms wrapped around your neck. Chris comes over and puts his arms around you both. They both kiss your cheek. Chris then presses a kiss to your lips which you happily kiss him back.
“No! Papa!” Jackson exclaimed pushing his father’s face away from yours.
Chris gasps in shock. You giggled.
“Can I not give Y/n a kiss?” Chris asked.
“No! I give kiss!” Jackson said.
You received a big kiss against your cheek. Chris rolled his eyes.
WAIT would giving someone flowers count as a nonverbal "i love you"??? bc if so... for georgie pls 🥺🥺
so this passed a blurb and turned right into a fic. It’s 1.5k. Oops
Warnings for food mention and slight grief
--
You were five years old and running through the field outside the Burrow. Fred was chasing you, threatening to take your teddy from you and hide it in the tree. Laughter echoed along with the breeze that blew through, carrying with it the scent of the wildflowers growing around you. The sweet scent tickled your nose as you ducked down into your hiding place, a little embankment that Fred didn’t see. As you panted and waited to hear his footsteps, you nearly let out a yelp as George stopped in front of you.
“Here,” he said proudly, holding out the prettiest blue flower you’d ever seen.
“What’s this?” You took the flower from him, inhaling it’s sticky, sweet scent as George beamed at you.
“Mum says it’s a cornflower. It means your popcorn will never burn!” George let out a laugh as you rolled your eyes at him. He offered you his hand, which you accepted as he pulled you towards the Burrow. “Come on, let’s see if Mum will make us some.”
You were ten and nervous about receiving your Hogwarts letter. Your birthday was in a few days, and you were terrified. What if they didn’t want you? What if you weren’t good enough for them? Chewing on your nails, you sat on the old swing tied to the tree out front. It was always your spot, a source of comfort during your worst days. Today was one of them as you mulled over the idea of your best friends heading off on an adventure without you.
Almost as if thinking of him was enough to make his figure appear, George came skipping down the path towards you. He had a hand behind his back as he did, a giant smile on his face as he grew closer. His freckles practically exploded on his cheeks from the sun, a slight pink sunburn clinging to his skin.
“I got you something!” he called over to you, practically sprinting the last of the distance in excitement. “I found this, and I knew you had to have it.”
He held out the hand behind his back, and a beautiful stalk came into view. White flowers almost shaped like bells hung from it as you carefully took it from his hands. George pulled you into a hug as you did, careful not to crush the flowers between you.
“They’re Lillies of the Valley,” George said matter-of-factly. “They’re supposed to bring you extra luck and extra magic. Hogwarts can’t say no if you have extra magic!”
Tears pricked your eyes as you clung to your best friend, knowing that no matter what happened in a couple of days that you’d always have George on your side. “Thanks, Georgie,” you sniffled, finally letting him go. “I love them.”
You were fifteen and waiting in the Great Hall for your best friend to finally stumble in for breakfast. The time read 8:47 am and you were growing annoyed, where could he possibly be? Once again, it seemed you could summon him on command as he stumbled through the doors out of breath. He clutched something in his hands as he scanned over the heads of the students, rushing over as he spotted you.
“There you are! George, you’re not gonna have enough time to eat!” you scolded, pushing your plate towards him that still had some bacon and toast left on it.
“I can grab something from the kitchens. Listen, I have to ask you something,” George started, his weight shifting as he bounced between his feet. “But first I need to give you these.”
He held out a bouquet for you of hastily picked flowers. You giggled as you pulled it closer, recognising the bluebells, buttercups, and forget-me-nots that comprised it. “And what is this for, Georgie?”
“Well, you see,” he started, climbing into the seat as he grabbed a piece of bacon. “The bluebells are for your smile; they make it brighter see. And the buttercups are for butterbeer; they made it taste better. But the forget-me-nots are to make sure you remember the date.”
“The date?” you questioned, inhaling the sweet scent radiating from the bouquet. “And what date am I not going to forget?”
“Hogsmeade tomorrow,” George said confidently, winking at you as he did. “You’re going to be my date.”
You let out another giggle, rolling your eyes at the freckled and shaggy-haired boy in front of you. “Do I have a say in this decision?”
“Well, of course!” George said, picking up the toast now. “Do you want to go with me?”
“‘Course I do, Georgie,” you said, cheeks warming as you did.
His eyes sparkled a little harder as he beamed at you, already picturing what you’d look like sitting across from him in the dim light of the Three Broomsticks. “You do know it’s a real date, right?”
“Yes, Georgie, I know.”
You were twenty, and the war had finally come to an end. Grief and loss were clinging to everyone. It seemed as though no matter where you looked, a loved one had been lost in the fight. Sad smiles and bloodshot eyes lingered everywhere you looked, and it grew overwhelming. As you sat on the old tree swing, you gazed out over the fields you ran through as children. Lost in the thought, you hadn’t heard George approaching behind you.
“I got you something, love.” George appeared behind you as he laid a hand on your shoulder.
As he moved in front of you, a beautiful bouquet of sweet peas was clutched in his hands. Tears pricked your eyes at the reminder of your father and the nickname he gave you, the same father you said goodbye to for the last time only a few weeks ago. George seemed nervous as his weight shifted between his feet again, the same bouncing he’d done all those years ago.
“Sweet peas,” you sniffled, taking them from George as you buried your face in them. “Thank you.”
“They mean true love, good luck, and your father’s approval,” George said softly, fumbling in his pocket as you scrunched up your brow.
“His approval? What do you mean, Georgie?” As your eyes flickered up, you saw the velvet box clutched in his hands.
“I asked him for his blessing a couple of months ago. We had this whole thing planned out the two of us; he was excited for it. I love you, darling, more than I’ve ever loved anyone and for as long as I can remember,” George said, cracking the box as your grandmother’s ring sparkled inside. “He gave me this when I asked. Said he always wanted you to have it. Will you marry me?”
Throwing your arms around George, you collapsed into his arms as you sobbed against him. He held you quietly as the tears spilt down your cheeks, wiping them away as he pressed soft kisses against your forehead. George was always patient when it came to you, and he held you until the shaking stopped, and your bloodshot eyes finally met his.
“I’d marry you in every lifetime, George Weasley,” you croaked out, nodding your head as he pulled you back into him. He slipped the ring on your finger under the shade of the tree, staying on the ground with you as the two of you shared a quiet moment.
You were 25 and washing the dishes in the kitchen of your small house. Laughter echoed on the wind as you heard the familiar sound of your husband arriving home for the day. Squeals echoed out as you smiled to yourself, putting away the last mug as George fell through the door with your daughter, mischievous but sweet smiles on their faces. They each had a hand behind their back as they approached you, your daughter speaking up first.
She held out her little hand as she clutched a small flower within it. It was a blue cornflower, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you took it from her. Beaming with pride, she excitedly told you what it meant, “it’s a cornflower! It means our popcorn will never burn! Daddy said so.”
“Did he now?” you mused, catching George’s eye as he winked at you. “And I suppose he said you should ask me to make some, huh?”
She nodded as she looked up to George for approval who ruffled her hair. “He said you make the best popcorn.”
“Well, that is true,” you agreed, looking towards George. “And what do you have behind your back, darling?”
George pulled out a bouquet of bluebells, daisies, and forget-me-nots. You smiled as you took it from him, knowing exactly what they meant. It was ten years to the days that George had finally asked you out and you didn’t need an explanation on what they meant. He pulled you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as your daughter laughed beside you.
“Happy Anniversary, love. The flowers work, see. I didn’t forget!” George laughed as you shook your head at him.
“You never do, darling. Come on, let’s get that popcorn started.”
Disclaimer: Gif isn’t mine, credit to whoever made it
A/n: just a reminder that this is a queued post! i’m currently taking a small break from tumblr (should be back by the end of the week though!) as i am not in a good place at the moment. feel free to continue sending in asks and messages whilst i’m away - i’ll answer as soon as i’m back online! i shall also catch up on things that i’ve been tagged in and fics i’ve missed then as well! ❤️❤️ to the requester - i hope you enjoy my love! 💕
+ + + + +
“Never seen him so content,” you hummed to Hermione, a smile playing at your lips as you nodded over to Fred, who was sitting on a nearby couch in the living room of the Burrow, where everyone had gathered for Christmas - the second one since the Battle of Hogwarts - holding a tiny toddler, who was giggling at Fred’s attempts to make him laugh, hair turning a bright blue as he threw his arms into the air.
Hermione laughed, “He’s always loved Teddy.” “He reminds him of Lupin I reckon,” you replied, not having to mention the reason why, considering the small boy looked just like him. Fred, you knew, felt indebted to Lupin, since he was the one to bring George back to the Burrow when he lost his ear - kept him safe after the incident, travelling back quickly to save him. You knew that was one of the reasons Fred offered to look after Teddy so often - that and the fact that the baby adored him.
“Are you not thinking about children yet?” Hermione asked you, breaking you from your thoughts, “I’d have thought with the way he can never keep his hands off you that you’d be pregnant by now.”
I’ve seen this circulating forever and genuinely thought “no way do I have any of them following me” until this week when it turned out I had all these fuckin “MAP” (pedophile) followers sad to find out I’m an “anti” (normal person)
Please leave and also please get guinea worm.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Prompt: Thought this was an interesting idea since I think we can all agree the Weasley Twins were def dealers lol
(I’m still on vacation I just had this one in my drafts so I finished it up)
Warning: mature, sexual, weed, smoking, swearing, probs more.
If mentions of drugs makes you uncomfortable or you just don’t like it, don’t read this please! as implied by the title, this is literally all about what smoking with Fred Weasley would include
- Okay lets face it
- Everyone and their owls know Fred and George Weasley were the best, most trusted, ‘flower’ dealers in Hogwarts 🍃🍃
- You knew this before you started dating Fred
- It just came as a bonus after getting together
- Fred and George are almost always a little high
- They sell carts, wax, edibles and flower
- Like they’ve got it all, and the best quality
- Their edibles are only for the brave; half the time you get an out of this world high, and other times, your skin is bright pink for a week from their trick
- Lee Jordan also helps them with sales, the three of them are by far the biggest stoners in your year- probably in the whole castle
-Having a hard time figuring out how Hugo feels about you in the beginning because he does not talk about his feelings.
-Eventually he is able to show you how he feels, by the way he acts when the two of you are alone. Once you are more secure in your relationship the two of you become even closer.
-Very subtle PDA as Hugo likes to keep his private life to himself. He will occasionally put his arm protectively around your waist, but that is usually as far as it goes.
-Most conversations you have are whispered between the two of you, while you are a part from the rest of the group. Allowing you to keep what you say to one another private.
-Learning to read his very subtle facial expressions to the point where the two of you can communicate almost entirely through eye contact, when you have to.
-Admittedly Hugo can be a little protective at times and therefore you have had to stop him from making rash decisions on several occasions.
-Him trying to use his ‘stare-of-intimidation’ on you when you argue and you not being affected by it at all. Then you putting your hands on his shoulders and leaning in to kiss his cheek and him immediately crumbling, becoming ‘puddy in your hands’.
-His kisses are often harsh and passionate. He usually has both arms around your waist and loves when he feels you grip his shirt tightly in both fists.
-Hugo preferring to sleep with you laying against his chest, one arm wrapped, protectively around you.
-After a long time together and Hugo trying to show you how he feels he finally decides to tell you. Coming up behind you, he wraps his arms around you and presses his lips to your ear before whispering ‘I Love You’ in German.
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