Kensington Palace say they are aware of a security breach at Prince George’s school – Thomas’ Battersea – in which a woman was arrested. Police say a security review is now underway at Prince George’s school. The arrest of a 40-year-old woman was made this afternoon
-Scenario- hey you! can you possibly write a George Weasley where the reader is an American transfer who’s a slytherin and the two don’t like eachother. George takes one of her belongings and makes a bet. If they lose , he will give it back , if they win she has to kiss him. The weather is really bad and she is really confident they will lose. thanks!
Being an American transfer wasn’t easy. Your family moved from America during your 5th year at Ilvermorny to London, which meant you had to start at Hogwarts; new people, new surroundings, new life.
You were sorted into Slytherin and that was that. You tried to keep the lowest profile possible, but anytime you answered a question, everyone would notice that you didn’t sound like them.
Everyone would ask, but there was only one person who stuck, and that person was George Weasley.
After Potions one day, George came up to you, along with his twin brother, Fred, and rested his elbow on your shoulder.
"You’re not from here, are you?“ George pointed out, looking down at you.
"Great observation, Sherlock,” you snapped, shrugging his elbow off and picking up your books.
"Ooh, a feisty American. You don’t see a lot of those around here,“ George retaliated with a smirk.
You rolled your eyes. "Who are you?” You sighed, placing a hand on your hip.
"I’m Fred, and this is my brother, George,“ Fred interjected.
"Pleasure to meet you…” George started, waiting for you to say your name.
"I’m (Y/N). Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to my next class.“ And with that, you walked past them, and began making your way to your next class.
Fred and George watched as you tried to make your way through the sea of students and George chucked.
"Fred, I think we should give our lovely new student a traditional Weasley welcome,” George said, looking over at Fred with a mischievous grin.
"I was thinking the exact same thing,“ Fred responded with the same grin.
You hated those two. For the rest of that week, pranks were hitting you from every corner, ranging from hiding your things to changing your hair color into something outrageous.
As you were walking in the hall on your way to breakfast, someone bumped into you, causing you to fall and drop all of your books.
"Hey!” You called out, but the person was already gone. You let out an exasperated sigh and began picking up your belongings. Suddenly, someone stopped to help you. When you looked up, your eyes met a pair of sparkly brown ones, and for some reason, you felt your heart skip a beat.
"Making friends already, I see,“ George joked.
You glared at him. "I don’t even know who ran into me. I guess you’re not the only annoying person in this school,"
George placed a hand on his heart, pretending to be hurt. "Me? Annoying?” He said dramatically. You looked down to hide your smile.
George helped you pick up your things, but stopped when he saw a certain book.
"Ooh, is this a diary?“ He asked, snatching it from your stack of books.
"Give that back!” You shouted, attempting to grab your book back.
"Why? Got some secrets to hide, love?“ George teased, holding the book above his head so you couldn’t reach it. Your cheeks turned red when you heard him call you "love”, but you quickly shook it off.
"Just give it back! It’s personal!“ You demanded.
Then, George got an idea.
"Tell you what, (Y/N): today is the quidditch game between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. I will be playing in said game. Care to make a bet?"
"If Gryffindor loses, I’ll give you your diary back-”
"You didn’t even hear the rest of it,"
"You’re going to lose, Weasley! Look at that weather! It’s raining cats and dogs out there!"
"I happen to be very good at quidditch, (Y/N),” George winked. Your heart leapt again.
You rolled your eyes. "Okay, Weasley. What happens if you do win?“
"If I win, you have to…” George paused.
Then, a devilish grin grew on his face.
"You have to kiss me.“
Your eyes grew wide and your cheeks turned red. "What?!"
"If I win, and I will, you have to kiss me,” George repeated, crossing his arms.
“Why would you want to kiss me?” You questioned, trying to fight back the blushing.
Suddenly, George’s cheeks turned slightly pink, and you noticed. “Just curious,” he lied.
George definitely liked you. There was something about you that intrigued him and he couldn’t figure out what it was. But, he liked you. He thought it was cute how angry you would get at him after he pranked you. He wanted to get to know you, but he thought you despised him.
However, he was wrong about that.
You liked him as well.
You hated to admit it, but he was funny and his pranks, although very annoying, were clever. His smile made your knees weak and those eyes made you turn red just by a simple glance. You liked him.
"Okay. You’re on, George,“ you finally said. He grinned and held out his hand.
"Break a leg. Really,” you sneered jokingly.
You were about to let go of his hand, but he pulled you back towards him. He leaned down close to your ear.
"You might as well just pucker up and kiss me now, love. Rain can’t and won’t stop a determined Weasley,“ he whispered. He pulled back, gave you a wink, and walked away, leaving you with rosy cheeks and a racing heart.
At the game…
"GRYFFINDOR WINS!” The announcer shouted, causing your jaw to drop. You watched as the Gryffindor stand emptied out onto the field to congratulate their team.
After a while, everyone headed back to their common rooms, and the field was empty, leaving only you and George.
You walked out onto the field and walked up to George who had a smug look on his face.
"What did I tell you, (Y/N)? I told you I’d win,“ George said proudly, stopping in front of you.
"You were right. Congratulations, George,” you answered half-heartedly. “Let’s just get this over with."
You started to lean in, but then, George nudged you back.
"What? You won the bet,” you stated, looking up at him puzzled.
"I was only joking about the kiss.“
"I wasn’t serious. I don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t want to, (Y/N), that would just be gross of me,” George laughed, running his fingers through his hair.
You gazed up at him. You were quiet for a moment before you answered.
"Who said I didn’t want to?“
George’s looked down at you, his eyes wide with confusion. "Come again?"
"Who said I didn’t want to kiss you?” You asked, stepping closer to him.
"I-I don’t know, I just figured, you know, that-uh… I thought you hated me,“ he stuttered.
"Well, I did at first. But… Whenever I’m around you or you look at me, I just feel… Different. In a good way…” you said slowly.
"I am pretty charming,“ He joked. You let out a laugh.
"So, she does smile!” George grinned, gesturing to you. “You should do that more,” he began getting closer to you. He moved a strand of hair away from your face.
"It looks beautiful on you.“ George placed a hand on your cheek.
You gazed into each other’s eyes for a moment.
"Kiss me,” you whispered. And with that, George’s lips slammed into yours. He placed his free hand on your waist and pulled you closer to him, closing the space between you two. You lifted your hands to his face, pulling him closer to you and deepening the kiss. Your lips moved in perfect rhythm for what seemed like forever.
You both pulled away and smiled at each other.
"Wow,“ George exhaled.
"Yeah, wow,” you echoed, a smile growing on your face.
A comfortable silence lingered for a few seconds.
"Wanna do that again?“ George flirted, breaking the silence.
With a grin and zero hesitation, you crashed your lips into his, pulling him into another snogging session.
Pairing: Philip Hamilton x reader Au: Mafia, late 1920′s-1930′s Word Count: 3,657ish T/W: Angst = anxiety, blood, pill overdoses, violence, swearing, hospitals A/N: Philip was in a “mafia” group (aka family) and claimed he’s out for good. (Set in “gangster” time, late 1920′s-1930′s) I’m sorry, in advance. Tags: @justfangirlingaround ✨ @iworshipmusicals ✨
You were fully aware of the mafia’s in town. You knew they were dangerous. You knew they were run like a family and every member was treated like family. You knew all this, the worst part? You were dating one. His name was Philip, you met him one night at a bar. He was charming and sweet. You fell head over heels and so did he. It was amazing the two of you had been together for so long considering his affiliation with a gang. They didn’t typically like a member falling in love with an outside source, but you made it work. You didn’t ask questions and he didn’t tell details.
But after one job, you had to ask. He came home bloodied and with broken ribs. ‘The job went wrong’ is all he told you. And you had to live with that. Begging him to get out of the business, he always said he’d be fine, until that night. Even their ‘leader,’ George, had bailed on the job half-way through. They all spilt separate ways. He came home to you immediately. He claimed he was done, as you bandaged his wounds, he refused to go to a hospital, since the last time he was in one he saw this father dying. So you made the first aid kit work. You cried a lot that night seeing him bruised and broken. He was your everything…
You opened your eyes to the morning sunlight and the touch of your lover. He was already awake and gazing at you, softly grazing his fingertips, up and down your arm. He was so pretty, in the morning glow. The curtains behind him danced from the slight breeze coming in through the open window. You traced some of his freckles with your fingertips, across his cheekbone. He smiled at the affection.
“Hey, you know what today is?” you whispered, snuggling closer to him.
“Mmm, no what?” Philip rubbed your back.
“It’s been one month since you quit,” you stroked a hand against his jawline.