#Fred Weasley x You

[just-some-random-blogger]

IDIOTS IN LOVEEE MY BELOVEEDDDD

"SAMUELS. INGLEBEE. BE RUTHLESS. THE WEASLEYS ARE!! STOP BEING POLITE." you order your beaters, to which they rolled their eyes but listened none the less.

DAMN CRACKLE SNAP SHES ON IT LOL AHHAHAHAH

"i thought your team was supposed to be good, weasley." you smirk at him.

"just admit you fancy her, mate." george nudged him

Your twin got you good 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ ADMIT IT FIEND 🫵🫵🫵🫵

"whatever, i'm actually here to speak to harry. your patronus spell was incredible! how did you even do that?!" you smile at him, which catches fred off guard.

See. Game recognizes game. PURRRRRR she ATE with that

the other students laugh, realising what was happening.

NO BUT THATS SO CUTE I mean embarrassing for them BUT SO CUTEEE UGHHHHHHHH DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT

"you caught me... look do you want to go to hogsmeade on saturday? i promise i won't tease you about us beating you."

UGHHHH AN ABSOLUTE RIZZZZ MASTERRR UGHHHHH

amortentia

fred weasley x ravenclaw reader. this is a quite short one sorryyyy!!

"AND CAPTAIN L/N HAS THE QUAFFLE, SHE SHOOTS AND SHE GETS PAST WOOD. SHE SCORES. 10 POINTS TO RAVENCLAW." lee jordan's dejected voice was heard from his commentating box.

you smile to yourself. you were captain of the ravenclaw quidditch team and you were absolutely determined to win the quidditch cup. you knew it was probably unlikely, gryffindor had harry potter who was a magnificent seeker, but secretly you thought your seeker cho was just as good.

"SAMUELS. INGLEBEE. BE RUTHLESS. THE WEASLEYS ARE!! STOP BEING POLITE." you order your beaters, to which they rolled their eyes but listened none the less.

fred weasley, one of the gryffindor beaters and someone you'd say you had a "playful rivalry" with, heard you say this.

"i knew you loved me really l/n." he shouted, smiling and then aiming a bludger at you.

you expertly dodged it and caught the quaffle from burrow, another chaser.

"you wish weasley." you zoomed past him and chucked the quaffle into the hoop.

"L/N SCORES AGAIN, ANOTHER TEN POINTS TO RAVENCLAW." lee shouted.

"i thought your team was supposed to be good, weasley." you smirk at him.

"shut up." fred scowls at you, and you grin.

your chat was however disrupted by harry potter, the gryffindor seeker, casting a patronum spell.

you turn to see some slytherin 3 years laying on the floor, gasping. you chuckle at the sight.

what you don't laugh at, however, is harry holding up the snitch, ending the match. gryffindor had won.

"i thought your team was supposed to be good l/n." fred mocked you.

"shut up." you flew back to the rest of your team, probably to give them a speech.

you were quite in awe at the patronus charm harry had produced, so you went over to him, whilst he was, no doubt, being praised by his teammates.

"good game wood." you look at the gryffindor captain.

"good game l/n." he nods back at you.

"you're not here to attack us, are you? for winning? ravenclaw can't win all the time, you know." fred asks you.

you roll your eyes playfully.

"whatever, i'm actually here to speak to harry. your patronus spell was incredible! how did you even do that?!" you smile at him, which catches fred off guard.

"o-oh uhh t-thank you, professor lupin taught me." harry blushed, not used to the female attention.

"it was brill." you gave him another smile.

"flirting with potter won't change the result of the match, love." fred smirked at you.

"i'm not.. you know what." you shake your head and walk back to you own team, not before you immaturely stuck your tongue out at fred before you left.

"unbelievable" fred muttered, but he was smiling.

"just admit you fancy her, mate." george nudged him

"never."

over the next week, you kept your head down, keeping a low profile, like you always did when you lost a match. you had a competitive nature, so of course you were annoyed.

you weren't looking forward to potions. sure you were good at it, but snape infuriated you. and you also shared a class with the gryffindors. fred weasley would be there, your "enemy". you groaned to yourself.

as you arrived, late, may you add, resulting in 10 points off ravenclaw, you had realised snape was putting people in pairs for the potions you'd be making.

"jordan and george weasley, johnson and spinnet, l/n and-"

you waited for whoever snape was going to pair you with.

"fred weasley."

"for godrics sake." you frowned. just your rotten luck.

you moved next to him, avoiding eye contact.

"we meet again" fred smirks.

"seems like you can't get enough of me." you respond.

"i-" his words were cut off by snape.

"today, we are going to be brewing amortentia. l/n, what is amortentia?"

"the most powerful love potion in the world, it's supposed to smell differently for every wizard." you respond.

"smart-arse" fred nudges you.

you roll your eyes, but you were smiling.

"quite vague, but correct l/n. it is the most powerful love potion in existence. you are all going to be brewing it today." snape instructs, and leaves you to work.

"weasley, get the pearl dust." you say, beginning to pour the ingredients already out in the cauldron.

"on it." he salutes and winks at you.

you shake your head and continue to work. when fred comes back, you are surprised in how much you were getting on.

"thats time up." snape points to you and fred. "you two, what can you smell?"

"i smell... i smell.. i don't bloody know, y/n move away from me, all i can smell is your shampoo." he frowned at you.

"don't be ridiculous, let me have a go.." you smell your potion.

"right fred, shift, your cologne is overbearing, it's all i can smell." you sigh.

the other students laugh, realising what was happening.

"that's all i need." you could've sworn you saw a hint of a smile on snape's face.

oh. oh. you had smelt fred in your amortentia. no way. you couldn't have. this was insane. but.. it made sense.

"looks like you fancy me l/n." fred grins, but you could see him blushing slightly.

"i think you're the one that fancies me." you respond, with a small smile.

he shakes his head.

"you caught me... look do you want to go to hogsmeade on saturday? i promise i won't tease you about us beating you."

and to your surprise, you found yourself saying yes.

[lqveharrington]

hii, i would love for you to do ‘the prophecy’ with fred weasley and ravenclaw reader!! thank you so much 💓

The Prophecy | F.W.

summary: fred’s starting to feel insecure in your relationship, and trelawney’s reading doesn’t make it any better.

pairing: fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader

includes: use of Y/N, insecure fred, a lot of overthinking, angst, fluff at the end

a/n: for some reason, this prompt stumped me so bad. so sorry if it’s not up to the usual standards 😭

One, two. One, two, three, four.

You impatiently counted how many times the alarm on Trelawney’s stupid clock would go off until she realized it wasn’t a crystal ball predicting a Hufflepuff's future. All you wanted was class to be over and be in the arms of your loving boyfriend, but they changed the house pairings for electives. Instead of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, it was Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Luckily, you still had all your core classes with Gryffindor.

As you lazily blew on the small braid you gave yourself in your boredom, a crack of lightning struck right outside, causing Trelawney to jerk in surprise with horror etched into her face. It looked like she had just seen the grim itself.

She whipped her head around and looked directly at you, taking your hands in her shaky ones. She read your palm like the lines had magically changed since last class, muttering quietly to herself until cleared your throat in confusion.

“My dear, you will receive ill-advised news by the end of the week.” She whispered and pulled your hand closer to her buggy eyes, furrowing her brows when she saw your life line. “Expect your spirit to be broken and rebuilt by the one you trust the most.”

Your lips kissed you teeth in an unsettling manner. Was this your punishment for not listening to her and sometimes making fun of her? Did she want to make you feel bad about your life choices? Sure you bored out of your mind in class but that didn't mean you wanted a horrid reading.

Your eyes flickered toward the dark sky outside again, watching as the lightening struck louder than the last. Trelawney sighed and patted your hand shut, dismissing everyone with a quiet wave. Everyone looked at her in bewilderment before slowly leaving the tower, murmuring amongst themselves.

Furrowing your brows and flexing your hand, you took your things and hastily made your way down the ladder, narrowly avoiding your face splattering on the stone floor. You always believed in everything factual — Ravenclaw, through and through — and you weren't actually sure why you chose Divination as your elective. The crystal balls and tea leaf readings never seemed credible, always predicting the same things over and over again.

However, the Weasley Twins loved Divination. They often made up their readings and passed with Outstandings. George believed he had a natural aptitude for the class whilst Fred said he had unlocked his inner eye. But what they both heavily believed in was Trelawney's words — which you thought was utter rubbish.

When you had Divination with them in sixth year, she told them that they would encounter a horrible noise, sending someone they love plummeting. That same week, Harry retreived his golden egg from the first task and revealed it to be screeching merpeople in the common room, causing the twins to drop him from their shoulders to cover their ears. From that day onward, they clung onto her every word like it was the sacred truth.

Which it wasn't.

Shaking all thoughts of Divination out of your mind, you made your down to the Great Hall. It was your potions study hall with the rest of the sixth years, and you needed time to decompress after whatever stupid prophecy Trelawney read off you.

You scanned the hall and smiled when you saw the twins, Lee, Alicia, and Angelina already working on their forty-inch essay for potions. Well, the girls were working on their essays. The twins and Lee were playing Exploding Snap — although they weren't very subtle with it.

The look on your face meant nothing but trouble. You shook your head and messed with them, putting your hands on the twins' shoulders and holding back a laugh when you saw them jump and pretend to work on their essays. Lee looked up at you and shook his head in amusement, nudging the two Weasleys to look behind them.

George was the first to turn and rolled his eyes when he saw you, scooting over so you could sit in between him and Fred. He took your bag and put it beside his on the ground, still grumbling under his breath.

"Blimey, Y/N. I thought Snape was going to take points off and give us detention again." George nudged your side with his elbow, ruffling your hair in the process.

"Again? What did you lot do in the few minutes it took for me to get here?" You tease and tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, grabbing your own parchment out with only ten-inches left for your essay.

You quietly worked on your essay while ensuring the mischievous trio stayed on task, every so often glancing up to make sure they were doing anything stupid. As you wrapped up your essay, you looked up to your right and met Fred's eyes. You gave him a soft smile but only earned a half-hearted, tight-lipped nod back.

Parchment crinkled under your hold before you released a breath. You pursed your lips and went back to your essay, forcing back the tears of frustration from spilling out. For the past two weeks, Fred began to grow more and more distant from you. You weren't sure what exactly prompted him to do so, but he wouldn't give you an answer and the rest of your friends... Well, they didn't know if you wanted to know from them.

You felt like you were slowly sinking further away from him and you couldn't do anything. Biting your tongue to stop anymore thoughts, you turned in your essay to Snape and swiftly left the Great Hall with no spare glances toward the Gryffindors.

The states of pity from your friends only made you feel like you were crumbling into forever broken pieces.

You sat with your back against a great oak, throwing another stone into the Black Lake. The ripples echoed and repeated until they settled, the small bubbles diminished.

The rays of the sun hit your eyes, causing you to wince softly. You turned to the side and fully expected Fred to be sitting next to you, a small frown etching its way to your lips when you saw nothing but the Hogwarts castle.

Fred usually came with you whenever you needed to relax, but thinking about the past few weeks only hurt your heart.

As the whispers from the Forbidden forest grew stronger and the sun slowly descended behind the trees, you shut your eyes and leaned your head against the tree. You wished you didn’t have to leave your spot; you were only just beginning to clear your mind.

Frustratedly, you rub your closed eyes with the palms of your hands, freezing when someone spoke from behind you. That someone having an all too familiar voice.

"Love, you're going to irritate your eyes."

Your head whipped around to stare at the boy you fell deeply in love with last year at the Yule Ball. The glare you threw at him could’ve petrified him. "You have no right to call me love after ignoring me for two — almost three — weeks.”

Fred swallowed thickly and sat on a boulder beside you. He knew he was in the wrong for avoiding you for so long without telling you the truth. He believed that it was better for you not to know, but what good was it in the long run?

"I know, I'm sorry." He mumbled and bit his lip, looking down at his tattered shoes rather than meeting your eyes. "It's okay if you never want to see me ever again or choose to hate me, but I avoided you because — " He paused and squeezed his eyes shut. Godric, he was going to sound like such a stupid prick. "Because of a prophecy Trelawney gave me."

Your mouth parted ever so slightly before you threw a small rocks at his legs. Your voice rang out clear and loud, reminding him of his own mother. "Are you kidding me? Frederick Gideon Weasley! You've been avoiding me because of a stupid reading?”

"I'm sorry! But what she said about me made it seem like you needed someone better!" He let your rocks hit him and huffed, frustration bubbling within himself. He took in a breath before looking back over at you. "She told me that the something I love will succeed but only if a great weight of unstableness no longer burdened it."

You crease your brows in confusion and drop the rest of your rocks onto the ground, shaking your head as he clenched and unclenched his fist. "What are you talking about?"

"Love, you're bloody brilliant." Fred met your eyes for the first time in days. All he wanted to do was have you in his arms again and press kisses everywhere he could, but he still owed an explanation to you. "You've passed all your OWLs with flying colors and you've studied so hard for you NEWTs." He buried his face in his hands and sighed. "I'm the burden that will hold you back if you choose to stay with me."

Your initial annoyance and anger melted away at his words, eyes softening at the sight of his dejected state. "Freddie, you're not a burden to me or anyone — “

He let out a laugh that sounded more like a scoff. "I have no money. When you need support, you wouldn't get any from me. I'm not good enough for you."

Five seconds of utter silence took over. The fluttering of the owls delivering mail overhead and the sounds of the curfew bell were the only things that were heard.

Before Fred could even register what was happening, you flung yourself into his arms and rested your head on his. He froze before wrapping his arms around your midsection, burying himself into your chest. He breathed in your scent, body releasing all the tension he had stored inside.

This wasn’t the first time Fred has ever felt insecure about your relationship. There had been other times where he felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, but you were always there to reassure him whenever he voiced them to you. It was horrible to see him act like someone other than his usual self. You loved who he was and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Freddie…” You rub his back gently and feel him melt into you. “I don't need any money. Your words are enough support for me.”

He only nodded in response, missing your touch after days of avoidance. Fred felt your move around so you were sitting beside him, your hands moving to turn his head toward you.

You smiled at him and thumbed his cheeks. "And didn't I tell you not to believe everything Trelawney says? I doubt she was taking about our relationship." You pressed a light kiss to his lips before pulling him into another hug, "I love you, Freddie. Don't ever forget that."

When he didn’t say anything, you pulled away and looked over his features, brows furrowing as you saw his teary eyes.

"Fred —?”

"I love you so much, woman." He murmured before capturing your lips in a mind-searing manner, feeling you smile into the kiss. Fred pulled away for a breath before placing another tender kiss to your lips, thumbing the bottom lip when you pulled away in a daze. "You're my soulmate."

You grin shyly and lean your head on his shoulder, looking up at him. "No more overthinking, okay?" You watched as he nodded at you, his face flushing a deep shade of red when you began to pepper kisses on his neck. Each kiss meaning the same thing.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Fred took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, chuckling when you got flustered over a simply gesture. "You might make me fall even deeper in love with you."

You hummed and pressed one last kiss to his lips, both of you grinning like idiots in love. "Have I changed the prophecy yet?"

"Hm, you'll have to let me check again." He said softly and gave you one final breathtaking kiss, squeezing your hip. "I think so."

"I love you, Fred Weasley." You sigh happily and kiss his cheek. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[magical-reid]

Shadows and Sparks

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Malfoy!Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Prompts: 11: “I’ve never felt this way before, and truthfully it scares me. But, the idea of never trying scares me even more.”

20: “I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I’ve met.” 

Summary: When the eldest Malfoy sibling forms an unlikely bond with Fred Weasley, she finds herself questioning the life she was raised to uphold. Amid late-night confessions and quiet moments of honesty, the two navigate a fragile but undeniable connection that defies family expectations.

The air was sharp with cold as you pulled your cloak tighter around your shoulders, your gaze fixed on the dark expanse of the Forbidden Forest far below. The Astronomy Tower was the perfect refuge, away from the expectations and whispers that followed you as a Malfoy. But tonight, it wasn’t the solitude that brought you here—it was him.

Fred appeared like clockwork, his messy red hair a beacon in the moonlight. He was late, as usual, but his grin was so boyish and carefree that it chipped away at your irritation before you could even speak.

“You’re late,” you said, arching an eyebrow as he strode toward you, hands stuffed in the pockets of his worn jacket.

Fred shrugged, the corner of his mouth tugging upward in that insufferably charming way. “I wanted to give you some time to miss me properly.”

You scoffed, but the warmth spreading through your chest betrayed you. “Arrogant prat,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you crossed your arms over your chest.

He chuckled, the sound echoing in the vast space of the tower. “Ah, come on, you know you’ve missed me.”

You didn’t respond, but your lips quirked involuntarily. There was something about him, something that made it hard to stay angry. It wasn’t just his humor or his careless charm, though that was certainly part of it—it was the way he seemed to see you for who you were, not for who you were supposed to be.

He didn’t push you for an answer, instead settling beside you with uncharacteristic silence. It was one of the things you’d come to appreciate about Fred—the way he knew when to let his usual theatrics fall away, leaving space for the quieter, more vulnerable moments you were still learning to share. There were no jokes or jabs tonight, just him sitting there, looking out at the stars.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but insistent.

You hesitated, your fingers curling around the edge of your cloak as you tried to steady your racing thoughts. “I’ve never felt this way before,” you admitted softly. The confession caught you off guard, and you had to swallow hard to push past the tightness in your throat. “And truthfully, it scares me. But the idea of never trying…” You paused, your voice faltering. “It scares me even more.”

Fred tilted his head, his gaze fixed on you, the playful spark in his brown eyes dimmed to something deeper. His brow furrowed ever so slightly, like he could feel the weight of your words.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared too,” he said, his voice low. “But if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s you. You’re worth it, Y/N.”

Fred’s Perspective

Fred had never been one for fate. He believed in the here and now, in the chaos of life, the messy, unpredictable moments that made everything feel real. But standing there with you, watching the moonlight filter through the tower’s windows, he couldn't help but feel like something bigger than coincidence had brought him to this point.

“I could see the worst parts of you and still think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve met,” he said, before he could stop himself.

You turned to him with wide eyes, your expression caught between disbelief and something else—something he didn’t want to name just yet.

“You don’t mean that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, a faint tremor betraying the calm front you tried to maintain.

“I do,” he said firmly, his hand brushing against yours as if to prove his sincerity. “I’ve seen you angry, I’ve seen you guarded, and I’ve seen the way you soften when you think no one’s looking. And none of it—none of it—has made me feel anything less than this.”

His words hung between you like an unspoken truth, one that shifted the very air in the tower. Fred wasn’t just talking about attraction or infatuation; there was something much more honest, much more enduring in his gaze. He didn’t care about the icy walls you’d put up, or the reputation that clung to you like a shadow. He saw something real beneath it all.

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The years you’d spent building up the walls, keeping everyone at arm’s length, seemed so fragile now. “You’re insufferable,” you muttered, but there was no bite to the words, only a tentative fondness that you weren’t quite ready to admit.

Fred smirked, his thumb brushing gently over the back of your hand, a silent promise in the soft touch. “And yet, here you are.”

Reader’s Perspective

The words hung in the air, thick with emotion. You had spent your entire life being the perfect Malfoy—poised, unyielding, untouchable. The Malfoy legacy had always loomed large, a constant weight on your shoulders. You’d been raised to uphold a reputation of power, to walk the line between cruelty and grace, to be untouchable. But with Fred, none of that mattered.

He didn’t see you as a Malfoy. He didn’t see you as a Slytherin, or Draco’s older sister, or the heir to a family steeped in dark history and expectations. He saw you for who you were, a girl with fears and doubts, someone just trying to find her way in a world that had already decided who she should be. And it terrified you.

For once, you felt as though the person you were at this very moment—stripped of the masks, the judgments, the bloodline—was enough. Fred didn’t look at you with the disdain you had grown used to, the questioning glances, the whispers in the halls.

He was steady. Unshaken. And, somehow, it made you want to believe in something you hadn’t allowed yourself to believe in for a long time.

“I’ve spent so much of my life pretending to be someone I’m not,” you admitted quietly, voice catching on the words. “But when I’m with you, Fred… I don’t have to pretend.”

Fred’s expression softened, and for a moment, there was no teasing, no sarcastic remarks. Just him, holding your gaze, his thumb tracing slow circles on your hand. “Then stop pretending,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Be who you are. Whoever that is. With me, it’s more than enough.”

You couldn’t help the soft sigh that left your lips, the vulnerability you tried so hard to hide spilling out without warning. “Alright,” you said, your voice a whisper now. “Let’s try.”

Fred’s grin widened, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. “Brilliant,” he said, squeezing your hand. “But just so we’re clear—when you inevitably fall madly in love with me, I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’”

You rolled your eyes, but this time, the smile that tugged at your lips was undeniable. Your heart was racing, but for the first time, it wasn’t out of fear—it was out of something new. Something thrilling.

“We’ll see about that, Weasley,” you said, the words playful but the meaning beneath them real, unguarded.

Fred’s laughter filled the air, warm and unrestrained, as the weight of everything you’d carried for so long seemed to lift, just a little, under the glow of the stars above. Deep down, you knew he was right. Maybe you would fall for him, in spite of everything. And maybe, just maybe, you were finally ready to stop fighting it.

For the first time in your life, you didn’t mind losing. You were willing to let yourself be found.

[httpvomitello]

Could I request a Fred Weasley x reader where he proposes and after the wedding she tells him that she is pregnant and they get very excited to start their lives together?

Hello, hello! Hope you like it ~ ♡

Forever and Always *⁠.⁠✧

fred weasley x f!reader

Fred Weasley had never been nervous a day in his life. Well—except for that one time he and George had set off an entire crate of dungbombs in Filch’s office and almost gotten expelled. But this? This was different.

His leg bounced anxiously as he waited for you to arrive at The Burrow. The little velvet box felt heavy in his pocket, and every time he reached down to check if it was still there, George rolled his eyes.

"Mate, if you pat that pocket one more time, I’m hexing your hand to your forehead."

Fred shot his twin a glare. "Easy for you to say. You’re not the one proposing."

George smirked. "Nope, but I am the one who helped you plan this, so a little gratitude wouldn’t hurt."

Fred sighed, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t usually one to second-guess himself, but tonight, the nerves were eating him alive. He had known for a long time that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, but actually asking? Actually making it real?

Before he could spiral further, the sound of your voice outside made him snap to attention. He bolted upright just as you stepped through the kitchen door, looking radiant as always.

"Why do you two look like you’ve been up to something?" you asked, eyeing the twins suspiciously.

George grinned. "Oh, just the usual chaos. I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it." With that, he winked at Fred and disappeared upstairs.

You turned to Fred with a raised eyebrow. "Alright, what’s going on?"

Fred took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"Come with me," he said, grabbing your hand and leading you outside. The garden was glowing under the soft light of fairy lanterns—another one of George’s contributions.

"Fred," you said slowly, looking around. "This is… beautiful."

Fred swallowed hard, his heart pounding. "Y/N, you know I love you, right?"

You let out a soft laugh. "Of course, you idiot."

Fred chuckled, shaking his head. "No, I mean—I really love you. Like, more than I ever thought was possible. And I know life with me is a bit chaotic, and I know I drive you mad sometimes, but I also know that I don’t ever want to do any of it without you."

Your breath hitched as realization dawned on you.

Fred dropped to one knee, pulling the box from his pocket. The moment he opened it, revealing the ring inside, you gasped.

"Y/N," he said, voice full of emotion. "Will you marry me?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded furiously. "Yes! Of course, yes!"

Fred barely had time to slide the ring onto your finger before you tackled him to the ground, laughing through your tears as he kissed you breathless.

From the window of The Burrow, George and Ginny exchanged grins.

"Called it," George muttered.

The day you became Mrs. Weasley was the happiest day of your life. The ceremony was perfect—filled with laughter, love, and just the right amount of mischief, courtesy of the twins.

Fred looked at you like you were the only person in the world. As you danced under the twinkling lights, he whispered promises into your ear—promises of forever, of adventure, of love that would never fade.

And Merlin, you believed him with every piece of your heart.

It wasn’t until six months after the honeymoon that you started to notice the changes. The exhaustion, the nausea, the feeling that something was different.

It took three pregnancy tests—two magical, one Muggle—for you to fully accept it.

You were pregnant.

The realization left you breathless. Excitement, nerves, joy—all of it swirled inside you. And the only person you wanted to share it with was Fred.

So, that night, as you curled up in bed beside him, you took his hand and placed it over your stomach.

"Fred," you murmured, looking up at him.

He hummed, half-asleep, before cracking one eye open. "Mmm?"

You swallowed, your heart hammering. "We’re having a baby."

Fred froze.

For a moment, he just stared at you, processing your words. Then, suddenly, he shot up so fast he almost knocked you off the bed.

"We’re what?!"

You laughed, watching as his eyes darted between your face and your stomach, his expression a mix of shock and absolute joy.

"A baby?" he repeated, voice rising in excitement.

You nodded, biting your lip. "Yeah."

Fred let out a breathless laugh, running both hands through his hair. "Bloody hell."

Then, without warning, he scooped you up and spun you around, laughing like a madman.

"We’re having a baby!" he shouted, as if saying it out loud would make it even more real.

You giggled as he set you down, his hands immediately pressing against your stomach, even though there wasn’t a bump yet.

"Oi," he whispered, grinning. "You in there? You’re gonna have the coolest parents ever, I promise."

Tears pricked your eyes at the pure love in his voice.

Fred looked back up at you, his expression softening. "You’re gonna be the best mum," he murmured.

"And you’re gonna be the best dad," you whispered back.

Fred leaned in, pressing a deep, lingering kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

"I love you," he said, voice full of emotion.

"I love you too," you whispered.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Too Much Like Me

Potter!Reader tells her dad she's been asked on a date.

Summary: James finds out Lily's type in men is apparently genetic.

Wc: ~1.7k

CW: Just chaotic fluffy hijinks - a jab about Americans

“Dad.” You trailed James into the kitchen, fighting to keep your voice calm despite the storm brewing ahead.

But James Potter, in all his dramatic glory, had gone entirely deaf. Arms flailing like a prophet warning of doom, he roared, “Family meeting!”

“No! No family meeting!” you yelped, lunging for his arm. You barely stifled a laugh as he flailed harder, like a fish trying to escape the net.

James spun around, courtroom-drama style, and gasped at you with the intensity of someone catching their child red-handed with a cursed artifact. “Fred Weasley? Our Fred Weasley? That Fred Weasley?”

“Yes, that Fred Weasley,” you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. “Merlin’s saggy balls, I regret telling you already.”

James slammed his hand on the counter for emphasis, pivoting toward the sitting room like a man possessed. “Lily!�� he thundered, shaking the walls. “Lily, get in here! Your daughter’s lost her mind!”

“Dad, for Merlin’s sake!” You tried to grab him again, but James had started pacing now, looking like a wizard unjustly accused of crimes against decorum.

“Not in my house! Not under my roof!” He spun around, hazel eyes bulging with a level of betrayal that deserved an award. “Fred Weasley doesn’t know the meaning of curfew! Or- Merlin help us- a respectable bedtime! Do you think I’m letting that chaos into my family? After all I’ve sacrificed? For you?”

“James,” came Lily’s voice, calm but laced with amusement. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrows raised, her lips twitching. “What are you yelling about this time?”

James turned to her, a man on the brink. “Fred Weasley! He asked her out! Our daughter! On a date! Alone! With no chaperone!”

Lily blinked, then turned to you with a grin brighter than a Patronus. “Oh!” she gasped, her eyes lighting up. “He finally asked?”

James froze mid-tirade, pointing an accusatory finger at his wife. “Finally? What do you mean, finally? Have you been... supporting this? Encouraging it?”

Lily shrugged, her grin widening as she pushed off the doorframe and sauntered into the kitchen. “He’s a lovely boy, James. Polite, clever, charming. He reminds me of someone I used to know.”

“Don’t you dare—” James began, his tone low and dangerous.

“You,” Lily finished brightly, jabbing him in the chest. “Fred’s just like you were. All mischief and charm. No wonder she likes him.”

James gawked at her like she’d suggested selling their house to a pack of trolls. “That’s exactly why she can’t date him! I was Fred Weasley, Lily! Do you know what I would’ve done if someone let me date their daughter?”

“You married her,” Lily said sweetly, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek, winking at you as it effectively stunned the red mess that was your father.

James froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air, completely derailed by Lily’s well-placed jab and affectionate kiss. He finally managed to sputter, “That’s- That’s completely different!”

“How, exactly?” Lily teased, raising an eyebrow as she crossed her arms again. “Because if I recall correctly, you were a menace, Potter. A charming menace, but a menace nonetheless. Fred’s cut from the same cloth, and you turned out all right.”

James spluttered, gesturing wildly at you. “Because this is my daughter! She’s not supposed to fall for charmers like Fred Weasley! I can’t just let this happen! Where’s the fatherly dignity in that?”

“Oh, James,” Lily sighed, patting his shoulder with exaggerated pity. “I hate to break it to you, but you lost your ‘fatherly dignity’ the day you wore those matching Christmas jumpers with Sirius.”

“That was solidarity!” James barked, his ears reddening as he straightened his posture in a futile attempt at reclaiming authority. “And anyway, this is different. I’m supposed to protect her! Shield her from the heartbreakers and mischief-makers of the world.”

“Fred’s not a heartbreaker, Dad,” you said, exasperated but amused. “He’s actually- dare I say- nice? And maybe even mature? A little bit?”

James looked like he might faint. “Mature?! You’re telling me Fred Weasley- the bloke who turned all the Quidditch goalposts into giant marshmallows- is mature?! What next? He’s taken up knitting?”

“Knitting would be a good look for him,” Lily quipped, clearly enjoying herself. “Very soothing hobby. He could knit you a jumper, James, to match that dignity you’ve misplaced.”

You couldn’t help but snort at the visual, and James threw his hands up, pacing the kitchen again. “I can’t believe this. I’m being outnumbered in my own home.”

“It’s called democracy- like the Americans,” Lily said, smirking as she leaned against the counter. “And right now, you’re the losing party.”

James stopped pacing to glare at her. “Fred acts like a damned American..” He mumbled before he raised his voice. “This is treason. Pure, unadulterated treason.”

“James,” Lily replied patiently, though her lips twitched with amusement. “You’ll survive.”

At that moment, Harry wandered into the kitchen, his face set in curious confusion as he surveyed the scene. He held a plate of leftover treacle tart, chewing leisurely. “What’s with all the shouting, then?” He asked, his tone disinterested but his eyes sparkling with intrigue.

James immediately pounced, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Your sister has decided to go on a date with Fred Weasley, Harry! Fred Weasley! What do you have to say about that?”

Harry blinked at him, clearly trying to piece together the situation. Then his gaze slid to you, and his smirk grew as he swallowed a bite of tart. “Fred, huh?” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. “Nice. Bold choice. Never a dull moment with a Weasley.”

“Bold-? Harry!” James looked genuinely wounded. “This is a betrayal! Your own sister-"

“Is an adult,” Harry interrupted, shrugging. “And you’re acting like she’s run off to marry Voldemort’s ghost.”

“Don’t give him ideas,” you muttered under your breath, earning a snort from Harry.

“Not helping, Harry!” James barked, looking thoroughly frazzled now. He pointed at you again. “Fine! Go on your date! But I’m watching him. One toe out of line, and-”

“And what?” you challenged, grinning now as Lily watched on, clearly entertained. “You’ll duel him? Turn him into a marshmallow like his Quidditch goalposts?”

James opened his mouth, floundering for a retort, but Lily stepped in, tugging him gently away from the center of the chaos. “Come on, love,” she cooed soothingly. “Why don’t we sit down, have a cuppa, and let the kids handle their own lives for once?”

James sighed, finally deflating. “Fine,” he grumbled, shooting you one last suspicious look. “But mark my words- an eye for an eye! Harry, date his younger sister!”

Harry froze, the bite of treacle tart halfway to his mouth as the words sunk in. His eyes darted between you, Lily, and James, clearly trying to figure out if this was his moment to fess up or quietly Disapparate.

“What?” James demanded, noticing Harry’s hesitation. “What’s with that face? Don’t tell me you’ve already thought about it!”

Lily covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. You, on the other hand, burst out laughing immediately, doubling over as the image of James putting two and two together hit you.

“Why are you laughing?” James barked, looking between the two of you like he was missing the punchline to a joke everyone else got. “What’s so funny? Harry, explain yourself!”

Harry, clearly seeing no way out, sighed and placed his plate of treacle tart on the counter. “Dad,” he started, bracing himself, “I’m already dating Ginny.”

James froze. Completely, utterly froze. His jaw hung slack, his hands hovering mid-air like a malfunctioning automaton.

“You’re what?” He whispered, his voice teetering on the edge of shock and betrayal.

You howled with laughter, tears forming in your eyes. “Oh, Merlin, this is priceless!” You gasped. “Dad, your face- your face!"

“James, breathe,” Lily advised through her own laughter, leaning against the counter for support. “You’re going to give yourself a stroke.”

James finally snapped out of his trance, his eyes narrowing into sharp points of indignation. “Ginny?! Ginny Weasley?! First her with Fred, and now you- how long has this been going on?”

Harry scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to make himself look smaller. “A while.”

“A while?" James repeated, his voice cracking. “Define ‘a while.’ A few days? Weeks?”

Harry hesitated. “Since... fifth year?”

“Fifth year?!" James bellowed, looking like he might explode. “That’s years! Years, Harry! And you didn’t think to tell me?!”

“What was I supposed to say?” Harry shot back, clearly frustrated now. “‘Hey, Dad, by the way, I’m snogging Ron’s little sister’? That would’ve gone over well.”

“Well, it’s certainly better than me finding out like this!” James cried, gesturing wildly at nothing in particular. “My own son! Betraying me! I raised you better than this, Harry!”

Lily wiped her eyes, still chuckling. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, James. They’re clearly happy, and Ginny’s a wonderful girl. You love her.”

“That’s not the point, Lily!” James snapped, his hands flying to his hair. “It’s- this is-!Fred! Ginny! My children and their Weasleys! What’s next? Ron’s going to marry into the family, too?”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Well... technically, Hermione-"

“No! They got her too!?" James cut him off, throwing his hands in the air. “Don’t even tell me! I won’t survive it! This is it- this is how I go. Betrayed by my own family and buried in a sea of Weasleys.”

You leaned against the counter, wheezing with laughter. “Dad, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” James turned to you, his face a picture of righteous indignation. “You don’t understand. I fought a war for this family- for this! And now my legacy is going to be a house full of Weasleys!”

“Sounds cozy,” Lily teased, patting his arm. “You’ll come around, James. You always do.”

James groaned, sinking into a chair as if all the fight had been drained out of him. “Fine,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “Fine. Date your Weasleys. Marry them. Name your kids Fred and Ginny Jr. for all I care.”

You patted his shoulder, grinning. “Love you, Dad.”

He shot you a glare but muttered, “Love you, too. But don’t think for one second I’m not watching Fred like a hawk.”

“And Ginny?” Harry asked, daring to push his luck.

James pointed a warning finger at him. “You, young man, are on thin bloody ice."

Lily hushed James as she patted his back, leading him out of the kitchen. He continued to blabber on, muttering something along the lines of;

“Is this my fault?”

“Merlin, does Molly know?”

“Bloody redheads- OW!”

[wingyattium]

*+ᵎᵎ 🍊⋅ ˚✮ — 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 | 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲.

+ᵎᵎ 𝐬𝐲𝐧: it’s holiday season at the burrow again, and mrs. weasley is concocting the most delicious-smelling dinner — but fred is hungry for something a little sweeter.

+ᵎᵎ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭: approx 2.4k (i got carried away), 18+, smut, fem!reader, afab!reader, established relationship, some fluffy stuff, reader wears a skirt, oral/cunnilingus + fingering, needy!fred, service!fred, simp!fred, he’s obsessed w/ you okay (can you blame him?), pet names (love, doll, baby), bathroom oral sex, hold the moan, cum eating, dirty talk/language, i think that’s all pls lmk if you see something!

+ᵎᵎ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: aaaaaah thank you so much for the response on my last post!! it means so much!! thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoy! much love and tiny tits, leah 💕💋

holidays at the borrow were always lively and cluttered — the family had extended past just the ginger members, adopting the likes of hermione, harry, and, of course, yourself. so many bodies tucked into a space not quite fit for the numbers.

so getting to the bathroom that evening proved to be a great task that required shouldering past adults and narrowly avoiding screaming children just to get to the staircase; which your bladder was ecstatic to find was barren.

you could still hear the chatter from downstairs as you closed the door and relieved yourself, the scent of pumpkin pie and delicious roast slipping through the bottom of the door a motivator to quickly clean yourself up and trod back down.

but when you opened the door, your hips were immediately gripped and you were pulled flush into a hard body — you tried to exclaim, but soft, cold lips pressed against yours and halted the sound.

you recognized them instantly, and you had no hesitation in popping your lips open when a hot tongue teased the seam. you even released a small, breathy moan when it slid across yours, lighting your skin up immediately.

you only allowed a few seconds of lip smacking before you pulled away; fred groaned unhappily but let you do so, blue eyes dancing when you looked into them.

“a ‘hello’ could have sufficed,” you teased, lips still burning from the phantom weight of his. fred’s brows met his hairline and he scoffed.

“oh, so my brand of greeting is unsatisfactory?” he demanded coyly, and you rolled your eyes.

“well, i didn’t say that,” you murmured as you wrapped your hands around his neck, lacing your fingers together against his nape. “but we are kind of standing above your family right now.”

fred glanced down briefly then met your eyes again with a dopey grin. “silly me, i thought we were standing on the floor.”

“idiot.” you whispered fondly, leaning up to slot your lips with his; it was chaste, but it still had your stomach erupting with butterflies — something fred somehow managed to do often.

“what can i say? i missed you.” fred murmured against your mouth, fingers tightening on your hips. you laughed lightly.

“it’s only been a little over a week.” you reminded him as you pulled away again, though deep down, you mirrored the sentiment. even an hour away from fred felt like too long, your soul and body aching more with every second that ticked by.

“that’s like, what — a decade in dog years?” fred teased, eyes mirthful and lips pulled into a small smirk. your eyes fell to them immediately, a sort of heat roiling in your gut.

“not quite,” you quipped back distractedly, eyes still glued to his lips. you already missed the taste of them.

as if reading your mind, fred leaned down and sealed his mouth against yours, lips coaxing yours into a slightly wet dance. his tongue teased at the seam, asking for entrance, for the permission to deepen it — and despite the fact that the two of you were very much still standing in the middle of the hallway, you granted it to him.

fred groaned as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. it was wet, hot, and a little sloppy — a weeks worth of pure need and want puppeteering his every movement when he slipped a hand up to cup the back of your head.

a shrill, excited shriek from the floor below ripped you back to the present before you could get lost in the fog that was creeping into your brain, and you pushed at fred’s chest.

“fred, we should get back down there,” you whispered, attempting to pull yourself from his tight grip. fred thinned his lips in a faux expression of consideration, then sent you a sly grin.

“nah, i’ve got a better idea.”

before you could question him fred corralled you into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him and turning the lock with a soft click.

“fred—!” you gasped out indignantly, though you didn’t complain or resist when he easily lifted you up onto the counter and slotted himself between your thighs.

fred held your gaze for a few seconds, large hands resting against your hips, breath ghosting over your face when he murmured, “is this okay?”

you swallowed and bit your lip; part of you was screaming ‘hell no!’ — and the other part, the much larger and much louder part, roared ‘fuck yes!’

desire is a very strong and hot fire, capable of burning away any inhibitions and doubts, no matter how pressing they were. so, it didn’t come as much of a surprise to you when you leaned up and slotted your lips to fred’s in lieu of a verbal answer.

fred immediately melted into you and groaned, the sound vibrating your lips and pulling out a soft mewl from you in response.

fred pressed closer to you, heat blooming against your clothed cunt from the pressure of his bulge straining through his jeans; you’d barely done anything and he was so hard, so ready to simply pound you into oblivion. gods, that sounded absolutely wonderful.

“we have to be quick,” you mumbled breathlessly, receiving a small grumble in assent from fred.

you couldn’t help but feel as though he sounded a bit distracted and aloof, and you wondered if he even actually understood the situation the two of you were in.

or the pure mortification you’d undoubtedly experience should you get caught — it had all probably been shoved from his head by heady want.

“fred—,” you uttered, a bit more urgently, but fred cut you off with a small ‘shh.’

“i heard you love,” fred mumbled before you could reprimand him, lips sliding from yours to kiss along your jaw. “i’ll make it quick; i promise. then you can get back to my mum and your riveting debate about the many benefits of silk yarn.”

there was a tease in his voice, one that had you flushing; so he had heard your conversation with molly. he must have been eavesdropping.

“that’s a — hah, fuck, — nasty habit, fredrick.” you chided, soft pants leaving your lips as fred trailed kisses down your neck. when he reached your pulse point he suckled and licked, and hot electricity skirted over your skin.

fuck, you’d missed being so close and intimate with him. you were already starting to drool from below.

“yeah? i have a lot of those, apparently,” fred bit back playfully, his long, cool fingers skimming the hem of your thick shirt. your skin was heating so rapidly you started to feel as if you were in a sauna — that’s just the effect he had on you, you supposed.

fred pulled away from your neck and pressed his lips to yours chastely; but then your heart skipped a beat when he dropped down to his knees, now eye level with your covered cunt. his hands slid from your hips to rest atop your thighs, and his eyes were dark when he flicked his gaze up to meet yours.

“you’ve been teasing me all day, doll.” he rumbled, thumbs drawing gentle circles into your flesh. you scrunched your brows.

“what—? how?” you whispered, confusion briefly slicing through the haze of horniness — but then fred fingered the hem of your skirt, and you understood.

“this damn skirt, baby. looks way too good on you.” fred said hotly, pressing his lips to your inner thigh. you trembled and your cunt pulsed, breath hitched and a bit short.

fred chuckled against your skin, well too versed in the effect he had on you. kisses peppered your thigh as fred worked his way up, each inch of space covered raising your blood level and pulling more ooze from your pussy.

“bloody hell, i jus’ wanna taste you.” fred groaned, rucking your skirt up almost impatiently. when your panties were exposed to him he drew in a sharp breath. “merlin, doll. you’re soaked.”

your hips rocked forward when fred slid a finger up your clothed cunt, and you whined lowly. you needed him, and quick.

“shh, doll. i won’t tease you. lift up a bit.” fred gently ushered, gripping your panties and sliding them down your thighs slowly when you lifted them — cool air blew against your clit and pulled a soft sound from you.

“so pretty, love. all wet f’me.” fred cooed, fingerpad splitting open your folds and gathering the sticky slick there. you gasped and muttered, “thought you weren’t going to tease me,” a bit petulantly.

“couldn’t help it, baby. you’re so cute like this.” fred rumbled, but otherwise kept to his word; he shouldered your thighs open further and nuzzled into your cunt, tongue quickly replacing his finger between your folds.

you let out a small, whimper-y gasp when fred lapped up your slit, tongue hot and wet and incredibly insistent when it lapped over your clit.

“shit,” you mewled, hand shooting down to card through his hair. “fuck, fred, please — we gotta be fast.”

the house was still lively downstairs, a constant reminder of the situation you were in, and there was a tiny pebble of fear cast into the rushing river of arousal; you didn’t want to get caught.

“it’s okay, i’ve got you.” fred reassured, voice husky and rolling, slick sounds floating up from between your legs as he flicked his tongue over your clit quickly.

your back arched from the assault to the sensitive bundle, fingers subconsciously tightening within ginger strands. fred let out a deep, rumbling moan against your cunt at the stimulation, serving to only stir you up more.

“taste s’good,” fred moaned, tongue dipping down briefly to lick up your slick before returning to your clit. your legs were already shaking, toes curling in and gut tightening. fred was too fucking good with his tongue.

“holy fuck, fred,” you whined out, cheeks heated from everything — the hot air in the bathroom, fred’s tongue against your clit, the slick slurping sounds of being devoured — it was so sloppy and filthy, everything you could have wanted.

everything you needed and loved.

fred hummed against you and you could hear the smirk in his voice when he mumbled, “feel good, love? my tongue’s makin’ you feel good, isn’t it?”

the only response you could muster was a flustered moan; it was certainly a rhetorical question. you were a moaning, whimpering mess, and your cunt was producing oozy slick faster than fred could lick it up — how good you felt shouldn’t even be an inquiry.

it did feel absolutely wonderful, but you doubted you could cum quick from it; and as if reading your thoughts, fred prodded at your soaked pussy with two fingers.

they slid knuckle deep into your walls easily, aided by spit and slick, and fred was quick to set a fast rhythm — the one that would make you cum quick.

it was a deadly combination; that wicked tongue and those long fingers working your pussy over so deliciously, the schlurps and slick smacks of fred’s lips as he licked and suckled your clit, the thrill of doing such a lewd thing when you could get caught by anyone, at anytime —

“fred,” you gasped out as he curled his fingers up, fucking them into that mushy spot inside you over and over, making you clench your legs around his shoulders in pleasure. that coil was tightening to an almost painful degree, your orgasm practically being yanked out of your body by fred’s skilled movements.

“cum, doll. i know you’re about to, so don’t hold back.” fred crooned between sloppy licks, fingerfucking you even faster — it wasn’t even a question of if you were going to cum, only when; and when happened to be after two solid pumps and three quick licks.

“fuuuuck, don’t stop— ‘m coming!” you whined as that coil snapped, sticky, slick fluid oozing from your cunt and coating fred’s chin and fingers. you couldn’t stop your hips from bucking into his face as you rode out the waves, body crackling with electricity and satisfaction.

fred groaned deeply as he lapped at your pulsing cunt, swallowing down your cum as if he were dehydrated — he was mumbling the whole time, praising you, your taste, your beauty; it certainly wasn’t helping with those waves pulling at your body.

“fred,” you mumbled, pushing at his head weakly. he’d stopped pumping his fingers, but in his attempt to lap up all your essence, he was throwing you into overstimulation — and had the two of you not been locked in a bathroom right above his family, you would have liked to see just how far he could push your body before you broke.

but the circumstances didn’t support that kind of lewd curiosity.

fred let you push his head away and pulled his fingers from your fluttering walls slowly, mindful of your current state. “‘m sorry, dove.” he mumbled as he rose to his feet, chin and lips shiny from a culmination of your slick and his spit. it was erogenous and somewhat embarrassing.

your clit was still throbbing with a second heartbeat, the waves of pleasure calmer but still present, and you were quite thankful for fred’s offered assistance with slipping down from the counter.

sliding your panties up proved to be a little difficult considering the weakness in your legs, but with fred’s help you were able to get them up fairly easily (and quickly.)

“we should probably get back down there, yeah?” fred suggested as if he hadn’t been the one who practically cornered you into oral sex. you scowled playfully and nodded.

“yes, just as I suggested ten minutes ago.” you retorted, earning a scoff from fred.

“more like two minutes ago. it didn’t take me eight minutes to make you cum, thank you very much.”

“no, it only took you eight minutes to get between my legs and prove your mouth is useful for more than just jesting.” you quipped as you straightened yourself out.

fred opened his mouth to retort, but you’d successfully landed the last word in the verbal scuffle when molly’s voice rang out, “dinner’s almost ready!”

you sent fred a flirty wink as you unlocked the door and slipped out, ordering him to wait a few minutes before coming down as to deflect any suspicion.

you just barely caught his mirthful utterance of “little vixen,” before you traipsed down the stairs, highly satisfied and praying that it didn’t show to everyone else in the weasley residence.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Bestfriend!Fred with no boundaries teaches you how to have sex

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

You weren't sure what had made you so insecure recently. Maybe it was the fact that you were the only virgin in your dorm now that Katie had gotten with Oliver. Or maybe it was the fact that you'd been too scared to do anything more than snog someone at a party. Either way, you were feeling the pressure to experience what the rest of your peers were currently indulging in. The only issue was that you were too scared to make a move on anyone due to your lack of experience, so really the whole situation was an unfortunate cycle of anxiety and naivety that kept you a virgin mary. And that's how you found yourself approaching your best friend Fred in the common room.

"Hi," you said meekly, dropping onto the couch next to him. He shut his book and slung his arm over the couch.

"Hello, darling," he purred, reaching his hand over to play with your hair. You sighed and pouted, earning a chuckle from the redhead. "What's bothering you, love." He knew right away that something was off. Of course he did.

"Well," you cleared your throat, "I was hoping you could help me with... a favor." You grinned shyly at him.

"Well," he drawled, offering you a teasing smile, "Tell me what I can do for you." You groaned as your head rolled onto the back of the couch. You were already regretting coming over here.

"I- ugh this is humiliating," you groaned and covered your face. You could hear him chuckle under his breath. "Stop laughing at me." You snapped, giving him an angry glare which only made him smile wider.

"I'm not laughing at you, Y/N," he said sincerely, putting his hands up in defense, "spit it out already."

"Okay, okay," you breathed, "so you know how I... well how I've never... done more than... y'know." You huffed trying to get him to understand without actually saying it out loud.

"How you're a complete and total virgin?" He smirked, earning a smack from you.

"Fred!" you scolded. He laughed and it almost broke through your utter embarrassment. "But, yes. How I'm a complete and total virgin." You covered your face with your hands again. You could hear him chuckle as he attempted to pry your fingers off your face.

"Love, you know I'm not judging you," he said, pulling your hands down. You let his hand rub gently across your cheek, and your body relaxed. He would never judge you, and that's exactly why you were here. "So what's up?" "Okay, well I want to.. y'know," you rolled your eyes causing him to laugh, "But I have absolutely no clue what I'm doing... and I need help." You huffed and looked up at Fred to gage his reaction. That smirk was still plastered on face but was now accompanied by a raised brow. "Oh? And so you want me to..." He dragged on, teasing you. You groaned again. He loved teasing you, and watching the blush spread across your cheeks only provoked him more.

"I want you to... teach me." You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping that he wouldn't reject you.

"I can teach you, darling," he purred, "what are best friends for?" You bit your lip, nervous and excited that he had actually agreed to this. It was weird, knowing the two of you were about to cross a line. At the same time though, you were closer to him than anyone else. This wouldn't change anything, you were sure of it.

"Okay," you breathed, "so what do I do first?" He chuckled and looked around the room. It wasn't too busy, most everyone either at dinner or studying for exams. George and Lee sat in the corner playing cards loudly.

"Well, we can't do anything here," he hummed, standing up. You looked up at him with your brows furrowed. "Come up with me?" He stuck his hand out for you. You hesitantly nodded and took his hand. As he led you up the winding stairs towards his dorm, you were suddenly overly aware. You could feel the nerves begin to course through your body the way they always did when a boy was leading you somewhere private. Fred seemed to sense this as he shut the door to his room behind you.

"You know we'll stop whenever you want to love," he hummed, stroking his thumb across yours. You nodded, the words stuck in your throat. "Are you nervous?" You nodded again, letting a chuckle fall through your lips.

"I- I'm nervous. That's why I've never done anything before," you admitted, the blush on your face burning even more as Fred stepped forward took your face into his hand.

"Just tell me if you don't like it, okay?" Fred asked, waiting for your consent.

"Okay," you whispered, nodded slightly as you looked up at him. You watched him wet his lips with his tongue.

"Can I kiss you?" He breathed. You nodded again and held your breath as he bent down to close the space between you. A involuntary gasp left your lips when he kissed you gently, his hand finding the small of your back. You tentatively kissed him back, melting into him as his thumb swiped against your cheek in the way it had so many times before. Except it was different this time. You were kissing your best friend and he was walking you back towards the bed. You gasped when your legs hit the edge, and Fred chuckled into your lips.

"I'm assuming you've gotten this far before?" He asked, pressing his forehead against yours. He was breathing heavy from your kiss, and it was certainly a sight to see, his lips red and slick.

"Mhmm," you nodded. Although, you weren't sure if anyone had kissed you like this before.

"Good," he breathed, "I'm going to lay you on the bed now, okay?" You nodded eagerly, earning a slight chuckle from Fred. Your incoming blush was hidden when he came forward once again to take you into a kiss. This time it was deeper, and wetter. His hands found their way under you as he pushed you back onto the bed. You let out a noise as your head hit the pillow and he fell over you, connecting your lips again. He could feel your hesitancy in your actions as he kissed you, your hands staying by your sides.

"You can touch me," he smiled, taking your hand and putting it on his chest. You sucked in a breath.

"O-Okay," you fluttered, hesitantly running your finger over his collar bones.

"Good girl," he whispered as he came to kiss you for the third time. Your eyes reflexively rolled back into your head, a wave of something washing through your body. You had almost forgotten about the nerves, your body overwhelmed with feeling as your best friends hands explored down the sides of your body. His knee separated your legs in a way that almost bothered you, and that feeling was exacerbated as his thumb swiped across the front of your hip. You whined into the kiss to your complete embarrassment. Fred hummed to this.

"Did that feel good?" He asked, peppering a kiss on your jaw. You grasped his shirt collar.

"Yes? I think so," you quavered as he hummed into your neck.

"It's supposed to feel good, love. You don't have the be embarrassed," you could feel his smile against your skin, making you squirm with fluster. His hand slid up your leg to the edge of your leg.

"Do you like this?"

You nodded fervently.

"Use your words."

"Yes," you breathed out as his hand slid under your back, "I like it." It seemed that was all it took for Fred to start absolutely devouring you. You had certainly never been kissed like this before, and you wondered if everyone kissed like this or if it was just Freddie. He grunted into the kiss as he lifted your leg up slightly, pressing his hips into yours. This made you moan into his mouth, and you instantly cringed at the sound of yourself. He chuckled into the kiss and pressed his thumb back over your hip.

"Love, it's okay to make noise. In fact, I hope you'll be doing a lot more of that with this next bit," Fred reassured you, going back to peppering kisses on your neck. Were you the only one getting a bit carried away here?

"W-what's next?" you groaned in delight and his lips sucked in a nice spot.

"Have you ever been touched before?" He pulled back to look at your face.

"No," you muttered with a small shake of your head.

"Have you ever touched yourself before, darling?" He asked gently, his thumb continuing to swipe across your hip. You nodded and blushed crimson.

"Y-yes, but I've never," you shook your head.

"Do you want me to make you cum?" He asked so casually, as if this didn't make the heat rush down from your cheeks to your stomach. You weren't sure what you were expecting when Fred had agreed to teach you some new things, but you supposed this was a good start.

"Yes, please," you whispered. Fred smiled at your response, you had always been the polite type. He pushed himself off of you and began unbuttoning his shirt, towering over you as you laid sprawled on the bed. Your eyes caught on his large, freckled chest before you reckoned you should probably be doing the same. You stayed on your back as you began to clumsily unbutton your top. Your eyes stayed on Fred's fingers, his smirked dancing in the edges of your vision. You'd seen Fred shirtless countless times, but never from this angle. The way his fingers moved down his abdomen and closer to his... you were losing focus. He stripped his shirt off before coming over you to help you with yours. As he undid the last button, his eyes dropped to your breasts. His hand reach out gently to caress your waist as he lowered himself over you.

"Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?" He breathed, waiting for your consent.

"Okay," You whispered, this time coming up yourself to initiate the kiss. You had never felt this want before building inside of you, wishing that his body would press into your own. His hands explored your body, touching new places and waiting for you to sigh in approval. First they crept up the sides of your waist, then under your breasts to cup and squeeze them, which you found out you liked. You made an embarrassing squeal as he lightly rolled your nipple, which only made him do it again. His hand then traced its way down your stomach and over the front of your skirt. He pulled away for a second which made you whine and nod your head. Fred chuckled lowly as he dropped his hand down even lower, until the tips of his fingers grazed the front of your panties. It already felt better than anytime you'd touched yourself. You felt like you were going to explode when he rubbed down the front of you with his palm. You moaned into the kiss, unable to restrain yourself from bucking your hips up. You could feel yourself start to gush as his hand ghosted over your wet panties. "Next step, princess," He said, pushing your panties to the side as he searched your face for any hesitancy. At this point, your body felt as though it needed him to touch you or you would die.

"Please, Freddie," you pleaded, your hands clenching the sheets beside you. He smiled slyly in satisfaction.

"You're so well behaved, Y/N," he praised teasingly, his finger running down your slit, "such a good student." You groaned at his teasing words as his fingers ran over your clit, a shock of pleasure rushing through your body. Your hands came up to grasp his arms as his fingers moved over your clit, again and again. His eyes stayed on your face, watching as each wave of pleasure washed over you. Your stomach was beginning to knot when he dipped his finger into your entrance, moving slowly and asking for permission.

“I’ve never done that before,” your voice came out in a whine as his fingers came back up to make circles over your clit. He let out a low chuckle that sounded more like a groan.

“Do you want me to show you what it feels like?” He asked, his supporting hand grabbing the back of your neck as he ran a long swipe over your slit, making your whole body shiver. You supposed you should be embarrassed, making these faces and noises in front of your best friend. But it felt too good to care and all you wanted was to feel his fingers inside of you.

“Y-yes, show me,” you stuttered coming up to kiss Fred again, needing more of him. He breathed into the kiss as his finger grazed over your clit and down to your entrance, pushing into you ever so slightly. You were so tight, and the fact that you’d never been touched here before made Fred pant at the thought.

“Just relax, darling.” He cooed, rubbing his thumb over the back of your neck that he still held tightly in his hand. “You’re doing such a good job.” He thrust his finger in slowly, causing you to clench around him. It felt good, unfamiliar, but good. As his finger moved in then out again, you were starting to realize why everyone was so obsessed with sex. The sight of Fred panting over you didn’t hurt either.

“Fred, I- I think,” was all you could manage before you felt the knot in your stomach suddenly pulsate. A loud whine left your lips as his thumb swiped over your clit another time, sending you over the edge.

“That’s it, cum for me Y/N,” Fred encouraged, holding your head as your back arched off the bed. Unwillingly, your body writhed with pleasure as waves of your orgasm rocked through your core. Fred’s fingers begin to slow down as he kissed in the crooked of your neck, you hips slowly rocking against his hand and the last bits of pleasure drained out from you. He gave you one last kiss before pulling his finger out of you, leaving you with an empty feeling. All you could do was pant as you laid there frozen with pleasure, red and sweaty from the experience. Fred smiled down at you cheekily as he wiped your damp hair out of your face.

“How do you feel, love?” He asked, continuing to brush down your messy hair with his hands. He knows how much you hate looking disorderly, but he had to admit, you looked damn good in this position.

“I mean, that was really good,” you chuckled, covering your face with your hands again and closing your legs up. Fred chuckled and fell beside you, starting to button up your top.

“Well that’s only the first part of your lessons, but I think that’s enough for today,” he hummed, leaning over to kiss your head as he finished the last button. You groaned and rolled over to face him. You couldn’t help but stare down his body, noticing his length bulging through his khakis.

“Aren’t I supposed to do something back?” You bit your lip, running your finger down his chest. Fred stopped your hand as you reached his waistline.

“You’re not supposed to do anything, Y/N,” Fred chimed, “but if you want to learn, I can teach you that, too.” He sent you a wink and a laugh as your cheeks blushed crimson again. You rolled onto your back and let out a chuckle.

“How much more is there to learn?” You thought aloud, still in a dream state from your first orgasm.

“Well on a scale of sex god to complete and total virgin, I’d say you’re still on the latter side of the spectrum,” Fred joked, earning another slap from you.

“Oh, shut up. Just help me learn, okay?” You asked sheepishly. Fred chuckled again and smoothed down your skirt.

“That can be arranged.”

[sundrop-writes]

The Way You Miss Me

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

I’m not trying to say I don’t wanna stay, I just know how this story ends.

Use my body against me - and all of our history.

I hate the way you miss me. 

Summary:

Fred broke up with you. He made it clear that he was going to have a new life when he opened his shop, and he didn't need you to be a part of it. You being stuck on him was just another joke in a long line of pranks that he pulled.

And life kept on laughing at you when your fear of crippling heights was triggered by a potentially life ending mission the Order put together that had you dangling hundreds of feet over London, held up only by Fred's strength and determination.

So what does it mean when the two of you land, and he's the only thing that can stop your shaking panic? What does it mean when he's looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes, holding you tight like a lover would?

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Smut. Set during Deathly Hallows.

Word Count: 18,500

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full warnings list and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is equal parts angst fic and smut fic; the reader is a cis woman - uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; there is no mention of the reader's looks, race, hair colour, etc. in any way; this fic does use Y/N (and L/N as in Last Name); this takes place mostly during the beginning of Deathly Hallows, so there are mentions of dark topics, like death, and the cult-like following that Voldemort has developed; this is Exes to Lovers - Fred and the reader dated for a while during their time at Hogwarts and then broke up; (there is flashbacks in this fic to times during Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix); the reader is half-blood - she has one parent who is a muggle and lives in a muggle city and the other parent who is loyal to death eaters (and there is a later mention of the reader's mother being killed due to anti-muggle sentiment as Voldemort becomes more powerful); there is no mention of what Hogwarts house the reader is in; the reader has a crippling fear of heights (which is a large part of the plot for this fic); mentions of nausea and vomiting (as a fear response) (no one actually throws up during the course of the fic); the reader experiences actual life-threatening danger while on a broom - she nearly falls to her death, but Fred catches her; Fred does struggle to hold the reader's body weight, so it doesn't imply that he has super-human strength or that the reader is particularly petite (I wanted his reaction to be realistic for someone of any body weight); for part of the fic, Fred is disguised as Harry using Polyjuice Potion (but there's no confusion about his identity because the reader knows he took the potion); the reader experiences a panic attack due to the life threatening fall, and Fred helps her calm down; mentions of blood and semi-graphic descriptions of George's canon injury (his ear being blasted off); there is general emotional angst from the characters being in close proximity to danger, death, and life threatening situations; Fred calls the reader 'darling' and 'love' and 'sweets' and 'pretty girl' (in sexual and non-sexual contexts).

For the actual smut section: this is not their first time together as a couple and neither of the characters are meant to be virgins; there is undertones of sub/dom dynamics - Fred is a teasing soft dom and the reader is submissive to him (and there is mentions of the reader experiencing what could be considered subspace) (but there isn't any specifically laid out roles - it's more so one person enjoying taking care of the other, especially after experiencing the emotional turmoil of a near death experience together); there is Daddy kink in this (not until a bit later into the smut section, but it just came to me and I realized it suited Fred so well) Fred calls himself Daddy and the reader is way into it; praise kink - Fred calls the reader 'good girl' specifically because he knows she likes it; lots of dirty talk (Fred has a filthy mouth); oral sex - Fred receiving (she blows him as a thank you for saving her life) (also slight ball worship); mentions of the reader 'choking' on his cock (but there is no major breathplay or breath restriction); slight spit kink (it's a messy blowjob and he loves it); teasing and brief orgasm denial (toward both parties); hair pulling (toward both parties) - not with the intention of causing pain, but to direction someone's attention and to show appreciation and affection to the person; thigh riding - she humps herself on Fred's thigh while she is still wearing clothes; penis in vagina sex; creampie kink (I'm not gonna say breeding kink, because there's no mention of procreation or getting someone pregnant, even in theory, but they are both very turned on by the idea of him cumming inside of her); this could be protected sex OR unprotected sex - he cums inside of her raw but we can all pretend that they used a magical pregnancy prevention method if you want even though it's not mentioned in the fic; cockwarming (reader doesn't let Fred pull out for a while after he cums); I think that is finally it for this fic.

A/N: This fic is titled after a song by All Time Low, which I highly recommend listening to paired with this fic. This is actually part of an idea I had for a much longer multi-chaptered Fred x Reader fic, but I kept thinking about this one moment in the fic and how much I wanted to write it - so I did. And I decided that it would make a good oneshot. And I am actually insanely proud of myself for managing to capture the same emotions in under 20k that I originally thought would take me like 50k or 100k to properly communicate. I think this is fantastic, and it's one of the best things I have written in a while - and I really hope you guys enjoy it! Especially if you like angsty, emotional, exes to lovers fics.

...

Very often, you wondered when life had become so complicated. 

It seemed that just yesterday, you were a bright-eyed young girl, dancing around a beautifully magical winter ball with the love of your life on your arm - and now, you were a confused woman who was terrified of how your life would end up because of a dark wizard and his cultist followers trying to overtake your world. 

These days you didn’t even have that lover to comfort you through all of the confusion and dread that clouded the world around you. 

You and Fred used to be perfect. That’s what a lot of people would have called the two of you - the ‘perfect’ couple. 

Your story was something straight from a romance novel - the two of you were best friends when you were young, and that friendship quickly blossomed into affection. That affection naturally led into a sweet romance. When you were with him, your life was full of moments where you felt like a beautiful, flowery, desirable protagonist because of how he treated you. Your life used to be full of laughter, full of smiles, full of romantic gestures. 

You and Fred were in the same year at Hogwarts, so naturally you knew each other. You weren’t really friends - at least not at first. You knew of each other, especially because you had some classes together. 

But you didn’t truly meet Fred Weasley until more than halfway into your first year of classes together. You had the misfortune of accidentally running into a prank that was meant for a Slytherin Prefect - someone who had taken one too many house points off Gryffindor for the twins’ liking. And after being doused with red and gold paint and tripping over a toy rubber snake that had been charmed to hiss realistically when you got near it - you were reasonably frightened and crying, and it left you the laughing stalk of the courtyard - someone to be pointed at and mocked by everyone. 

Fred hadn’t meant for it to be you. With the way he looked at you after the incident - full of guilt while everyone else pointed at you and laughed, imitating your frightening screams and attempts to jump away from the fake snake - it didn’t take you long to figure out the culprits behind it. And it didn’t take you much longer after that to plan your revenge. (Especially because, as much as Fred looked guilty, he didn’t simply come forward and apologise. Too afraid to look like a weak moron in the eyes of his brother and his other Gryffindor friends. So - on with your revenge, it was.) 

You figured that all good pranksters should be due to be a victim sometimes, too. If the twins couldn’t laugh when they were on the receiving end, then they should stop playing pranks. 

So you came up with something that you considered masterful. During your trip home for Christmas, back to Muggle London where your mother lived, you asked her to take you to a shop to buy a couple of greeting cards for your classmates. The ones that sing Christmas carols loudly when the hinge of the card is opened. Something clever, and not needing any magic at all. 

And when you returned to Hogwarts after the break, you found a moment where the twins were distracted, and you stole their book bags in order to pull off your epic, amazing prank. You taped those singing greeters into the back of their Potions textbooks - a class that you shared with them, of course, so that you could enjoy the show. And then you waited. 

You had trouble containing your laughter when Professor Snape escalated from annoyed to downright scalding angry as his class was filled with the quiet robotic hum of ‘Jingle Bells’, occasionally overlapped by ‘Santa Claus Is Coming To Town’. It was made even better by the fact that both of the twins clearly knew that the music was coming from somewhere in their surrounding area, but they had no clue what the exact source was or how to stop it. And with every snivelled demand of ‘just open your books and get to work’ - the music only started up again. 

By the time they had been sentenced to detention for disturbing the class, you were nearly breathless and your ribs were aching from trying to hold back your laughter. Which, of course, meant that Fred easily spotted you out of everyone else - who looked equally confused or annoyed with the low hum of the music. And as soon as the class ended, he brought his textbook to you, thanked you for the worthy prank, and asked you how to stop it. He looked entirely amused and impressed when you pulled the tiny device out of the back, and proceeded to ask you a million questions about it. 

You weren’t surprised when the next week, the annoying singing greeter ended up inside the teacher’s copy of the textbook on McGonagall’s desk. 

From that moment on, his crush on you steeped inside of him like a fine tea, developing from an innocent adolescent attraction to full-blown, ‘drive you crazy’, ‘I would do anything for you’, love. It was lucky for him that you easily felt the same way. 

Through the years of being by his side, becoming his best friend, pulling pranks together and trying desperately to get him to study - it was difficult not to fall for Fred Weasley. 

You had been overjoyed when Fred invited you to the Quidditch World Cup. Even though you weren’t the biggest fan of Quidditch (and Fred knew that). The only reason you had started attending the games at Hogwarts was because he joined the team. And you only bothered to attend the games he played in, so your bias could be spotted from a mile away. But in his letter, with the ticket to the World Cup slotted into the envelope, he told you that it was ‘the game of the century’ and you ‘simply couldn’t miss it’. 

You wouldn’t miss out on spending time with him, so you eagerly agreed to go. 

This left you with only one glaring problem. 

You had a crippling fear of heights. 

It was one of the reasons that you never really gotten into Quidditch in the first place. You had absolutely no interest in playing, and even less interest in watching if Fred wasn’t involved. The idea of even flying on a broom being something that made you nauseated and shaky just from thinking about it. 

The mandatory first year flying lesson was the only class at Hogwarts that you ever failed, but Madame Hooch took pity on you when she saw you crying and fisting the grass after only getting your broom about five inches off the ground. So she passed you anyway - just barely. 

When you set out to watch Fred’s games at Hogwarts, you usually had to take some kind of anti-nausea tonic beforehand to make sure that you didn’t puke all over everyone else in the stands. And you usually couldn’t even make it up to your seat to watch unless one of your good friends held your hand. But you were alright once the actual game started, because watching Fred doing something he loved was a good distraction from just how high up you were. 

Telling Fred about your intense fear had been one of the most honest, vulnerable moments that you ever had with him. Your friendship was usually all pranks and laughter, which you loved. 

But one summer day, when you were hanging out with the Weasleys, they wouldn’t stop nagging you to join one of their family Quidditch matches because they needed an extra player to make the teams even. And after the twins’ endless teasing, saying that you were ‘afraid to lose’ or that you would be ‘too distracted by their daring good looks’ in order to play properly, you broke down crying and stormed off into the woods, because you were too anxious to admit the real reason that you couldn’t play.  

Fred was the one who found you off in the trees behind the Burrow, tears still streaming down your face, and asked you what he had done to so greatly upset you. He had been terrified at the idea of making you upset, so hurt that he had been the one to make you cry. And after he found out about your fear, he didn’t laugh or mock you for it or play it off as something stupid like you thought would be so typical of him. No - instead, he wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulders and he told you that he was genuinely sorry. And he promised that he would never invite you to play Quidditch again. 

When you had accepted the invitation to The World Cup, you had forgotten how much your fear of heights played into watching Quidditch as well. The giant, impossibly tall temporary Quidditch stadium that had been set up for the event had been looming over you all day, but you didn’t want to quit and go home because of some silly little fear. 

You wanted to spend the time with your friends. You wanted to enjoy the event because the people you loved most were having fun there. So you pressed on, ignoring the inevitable, letting yourself get caught up in the pregame revelry. You walked around the seemingly endless campgrounds with Fred and George, in awe of all the decorations and the different wizards from all over the world, showing off things from their homes. You chatted and charmed along with them as they collected bets before the game. You let Fred paint your face with large, ugly shamrocks because even though you didn’t entirely care about the teams or fully know them, you were rooting for Ireland to win simply because he was. 

But the unavoidable nature of your problem became very apparent as Arthur guided everyone to your seats, and you climbed up more stairs, and more stairs, and more stairs - and the higher up you got, the more you found yourself shaking, especially when you looked down to the ground and saw that the people down there looked like little more than bugs. You hated it when your mind, naturally, went to what would happen to you if you stumbled over the railing and fell down all that way. You would splat on the ground, squashed like a bug. You would die within seconds. 

You held on tighter to Fred’s hand - he would have said that he had grabbed your hand in the first place so that he wouldn’t lose you among the bustling crowd, and not simply as an excuse to be closer to you. You didn’t even realise how badly you were trembling in his touch as you looked over the railing (still a few flights down from your final seats) with intense apprehension. 

“You alright?” Fred asked you simply. 

“‘m fine.” You mumbled out the lie, giving him a large, forced smile - hoping that he would believe it. 

You knew that if you told him how you were feeling, he would insist on escorting you back to the tent. Perhaps he would even insist on staying with you so that you wouldn’t have to be alone. So he might miss out on a once in a lifetime Quidditch game all because you had a bit of petty anxiety from being so high up. 

So you tried your best to push down all your feelings and ignore them, even if it was making you shake and making your stomach churn. When you got to the top, peering over the edge of the railing of the very, very high up seats that Arthur had gotten as a thanks for his work on helping to organise the whole thing (apparently, the higher up the better to actually see the game), you felt an incredible sense of dizziness, and began swaying on your feet. 

This was so much higher up than the Quidditch stands at Hogwarts. 

Naturally, Fred noticed. It wasn’t something he would easily admit, or even something he did consciously, but he always kept an eye on you. Partially due to a knack for admiring your beauty, that adolescent love-struck feeling always making him more prone to staring at you. But it was also partially due to the fact that he felt a need to watch over you. Whether it be as a friend or as something else, he always wanted you to be safe, and happy. 

And right now, your sickly, terrified face stood out like a sore thumb among the crowd of excited, cheering fans.  

“Y/N,” 

He called out your name in a serious tone that was so uncharacteristic of Fred, something that snapped your attention from staring anxiously at the ground toward him immediately. He cemented your attention on him when he put a hand on top of your tight, tense knuckles on the railing. His touch was warm, as always, and oddly grounding, removing even just a slight bit of that dizzying anxiety that you were feeling. 

“Do you wanna go back down? I can bring you back to the tent,” 

Of course. Just as you had predicted. 

“No.” You easily answered, shaking your head furiously, biting your lip. “I-” 

You didn’t want him missing out on such an important event because of you, but more importantly: 

“I - I don’t want to be afraid.” You heaved out, your chest tight with anxiety. “It’s stupid - people do stuff like this all the time, right? I shouldn’t be afraid-” 

“It’s not stupid.” He said firmly, quickly squashing down any self-belittling that you might be tempted to do. “You can’t control how you feel.” 

Coming from him, it sounded like the most firm truth ever. 

“If you want to stay, I’ll be right here with you.” Fred added on, giving you a warm, reassuring grin. “But just let me know if you want to go back down, and I’ll walk with you, alright?” 

You nodded, hating that even though his words gave you that nip of courage you needed, you were still pulsing with a dull panic. The undeniable reaction that fear caused in your body. 

Fred hated seeing you shaking, hated the deep frown that cut through your beautiful features - so what he did next was instinctive. He took his hand off yours and reached that arm, the one closest to you, around your back, planting his hand firmly on the railing at the other side of your waist. This trapped you in a close-knit hold beside him, something that made you feel instantly more secure - even if it was just from the warmth of him at your side. 

“I’m not gonna let you fall, yeah?” He said quietly, leaning closer into your ear to be heard - the warmth of the reassurance causing gentle tingles down your spine. “I would never let anything happen to you, darling.” 

Between the intense loving safety that he words wrapped you in with the sweet nickname he added on, and the firm cradle of his arm around your back, you knew that you would have no problem sticking it out for the game. But your brain was still trying to cope, your anxiety so incredibly nagging, and you couldn’t help it when your eyes drifted back to focus on the ant-like people on the ground, becoming shaking and nauseous all too soon from staring downward. 

“Down look down.” Fred scolded you gently, using his other hand to grab your chin, forcing your gaze back up - it ended with your eyes locked with his, admiring the way the breeze blew his too-long ginger hair into his eyes. “Just look at me, alright? It’s gonna be far worse if you keep starin’ down there. Just look at me, love.” 

“Just look at you.” You repeated in a quiet mumble, already so utterly locked in the powerful orbit of his gaze, feeling like it was near impossible to look away from him. 

You felt his forehead brush against yours before you realised just how close he had gotten. But you couldn’t bring yourself to mind. 

And ultimately, feeling the stands shaking beneath your feet as a particularly hard gust of wind came through and having another swell of anxiety rush through you was what drove you to closing the gap, sealing your lips on his in your first kiss. Fred made you brave, almost stupidly so, and you hoped that you had finally used that bravery for something good in capturing his lips. (Rather than the stupid mischief that the two of you usually got up to.) 

Fred smiled into the kiss and George cheered loudly behind him - you thought it was due to the game starting, and when you pulled back sharply to look around for the players, you were met with nearly all eyes in the group on you, clearly gawking at the fact that you and Fred had kissed. 

This included Ginny smirking almost evilly before she said: 

“Finally. I thought the two of you were never gonna get on with it.” 

This left you squirming with a mild embarrassment, and definitely not thinking about how high up you were anymore. 

Looking back, the memory was painful - not sweet or fond as it had once been to you. 

But it wasn’t nearly as painful as the memory of the day you and Fred had broken up. 

He had asked you to be his girlfriend officially only a few days after the World Cup. He wanted you to know what that kiss meant to him, and he wanted the privilege of more kisses from you, on top of the ‘honour’ (his exact wording) of going back to Hogwarts with you on his arm as his girlfriend, making all the other boys in your year ‘pathetically jealous’. Of course, it was everything you wanted, he was everything you wanted, so you said yes. 

The two of you dated for nearly two full happy years - right through your sixth year and into your seventh, until in April of your seventh year, shortly after Fred’s birthday, when everything came crashing down around you. 

It wasn’t unusual of Fred to pull you away after a class - his hand in yours, igniting fluttery giggles from your lungs as he pulled you down the corridors to whatever secret little spot he had picked out. Even with Umbridge at Hogwarts, implementing more rules and cracking down on ‘fraternisation’ between students, you and Fred still found ways to sneak off to have your private little moments together. 

So when Fred took you off to one of those private corners on chilly spring afternoon, you assumed that this was no different. You fell into the natural rhythm of pinning him against a wall, sealing your lips firmly to his in a kiss and waiting for his hand to sneak up your skirt while his tongue ventured into your mouth. You were shocked when this time, he didn’t kiss you back. He was limp and unreceptive against you, and that was when you realised that you had read the tone of the interaction very wrong - even if him dragging you away by the hand always led to making out in a quiet corner, and more than a bit of groping. 

You pulled back, looking at him with confusion and disappointment plainly across your face. 

“What’s wrong, Freddie?” You asked, well in the habit of using the nickname for him. 

Fred’s expression was filled with sullen dread, and it made your stomach twist. It truly made you fearful of whatever he was going to say next, and you took a step back from him, widening the gap between the two of you in the dusty, draughty old stairwell. You suddenly felt too cold, even with your uniform sweater and thick robes on, and wrapped your arms around yourself to compensate. 

“There’s something I have to tell you.” He announced quietly, continuing to lean on the wall that you had pressed him up against, staring at the floor, his eyes unwilling to meet you. 

What? Had he cheated on you? Did he want to break up? 

What terrible thing could possibly make this bright, funny joker so damn sad and serious? 

“What is it?” You asked, filling with dread, your throat tightening up more by the second. 

“George and I have decided that it’s about time we take our leave.” Fred announced, his eyes only flickering to you for a moment, looking for some kind of reaction. You were only further confused, and waited for him to explain. “The lease for the shop in Diagon Alley finally came through, and-” 

“Well that’s great news, Fred.” You said, trying to sound happy and upbeat beyond the tension that was still tight in your chest. You had no clue why he was so downtrodden - the joke shop was his dream, and now that they had secured a location for it, that dream was coming true. 

He heaved a sigh, his eyes turning to gaze out a nearby window for a moment before he turned back to you. 

“It means we have to leave, darling.” He said sharply. 

Your insides became heavy. 

You knew it was a very Fred and George thing - so intent on not doing their exams, desperate to escape any further academics. You wanted to ask why they wouldn’t stay until the end of the school year, but you knew that you would get answers about how they didn’t need marks from exams that they were likely going to fail anyway to run a shop that they now owned. 

It was something founded on their own talents and ideas, and they didn’t need the approval of professors marking them wrong or right in order to do it. 

It was the life they had always dreamed of. And you were intensely proud of them for it. 

So why did you still have that overwhelming feeling of dread? 

“So - when are we leaving?” You asked, trying to sound confident and firm in your words even though you knew what was likely coming next. 

You felt intensely disappointed when the all too predictable outcome smashed you in the face. 

“You’re not coming with us.” Fred said quietly. 

“Why not?” You argued gently. 

You would drop everything and go with them - you felt far more emotional attachment to being with Fred than you did to finishing your year at Hogwarts. You knew that you could be a useful hand around the shop. Any venture helping Fred would be a worthy one to you. But staring you down were the calculating eyes of someone who had been telling you over the past years how much he didn’t want to disrupt your studies with his antics, because he thought you had a ‘brilliant mind’, and you were ‘so much smarter’ than him and George. 

He thought that you could actually pull some decent - no, brilliant grades on your NEWTs and truly make something of yourself. The shop was a big dream of his and George’s, but Fred knew that you were destined for something so much greater that truly challenged and fully utilised your brilliance. So he wasn’t going to let you be dragged down to mediocrity by him. 

Realising this, part of you still ached. Why was he so intent on leaving if it meant leaving you behind? 

“Please don’t be stupid-” Fred sighed, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, so I’m stupid now?” You scoffed. 

He hadn’t meant to let the harsh word leave his lips - at least, he hadn’t meant it in such a harsh way. 

“Y/N-” Fred used your actual name, something he rarely did, but you barreled right over whatever he was going to say with your next words. 

You were hurting now, and you didn’t entirely care what he had to say. 

“If I’m so stupid, then why should I even bother to stay here and take my NEWTs?” You hissed, twisting around his accidental slip into something he had never meant. “Or am I too stupid to even work at a silly little joke shop with you?” 

Fred scowled deeply. It didn’t suit him. 

“Y/N, this ‘silly little joke shop’ has been my dream since I was five years old!” He barked, now taking your heat of the moment words and running away with them. “You don’t-” 

“I guess I was stupid enough to believe that I was part of that dream!” You cried out in return, cutting off his words once again. 

‘You are.’ He choked down the words. ‘But I can’t bear to bring you down just because I want to be with you. I could never be so selfish.’ 

“I-” He choked on whatever he was going to say, swallowing it down. “I can’t do this right now.” 

He moved to storm off completely, hoping to speak with you later when you both had calmed down, hoping to have a proper, happy goodbye with you before he and George actually left. 

But your next words made him freeze on the spot, and wiped away all of those hopes within him. 

“Fred Weasley, if you walk away, we’re done.” You said, now choking on tears. 

You were utterly insulted that he wouldn’t even fight for you - that he wouldn’t even promise that his heart would be waiting for you after you graduated. To you, it was a sure sign that he was saying that his shop was more important to him than you were. That you were just some stupid schoolgirl fling to him; that along with the shop, he wanted to move on to other women, to find someone that he actually wanted to marry. 

You had never been a part of the dream he had for his life - you had just been a passing fancy in his eye. 

For Fred, it was all too painful. This was the conversation he had been utterly dreading since he and George had decided to take their leave, and it was going far worse than he had planned in his head. He couldn’t face the pain - he couldn’t face hurting you. He couldn’t face missing you, even during a few short months apart before you did graduate. 

So he then did something so terribly stupid, looking to bomb the relationship wide open - hoping to end all of the pain before it even started. 

“Good.” He said, barely turning his head to even look over his shoulder at you. “Would’ve been a waste of parchment writing to you, anyway.” 

With those final, painful words, he stomped off down the stairs, leaving you to collapse against one of the nearby walls in a puddle of tears - for the first time in a long time, without Fred to muffle your sobs in a comforting hug. 

You hadn’t been there to watch him and George ride off on their brooms when they finally gave Umbridge everything she deserved - you had been locked in your dorm, sobbing into your pillow because of that horrible, relationship ending fight. You had only heard from other people later that they had left Hogwarts in a blaze of glory, and you were the only person who knew for certain where they had gone and what their plans were now. 

You hated to admit it - but you missed Fred Weasley. 

You tried your hardest to get over him. You threw yourself into your studies, and you did pass your NEWTs with some of the highest marks in your class. But then, any thought of what potential career you might take on was tossed aside when the world went into upheaval at the hands of Death Eaters. And unintentionally, you were right back at Fred’s side again. 

It was a dreadful thing - being forced to see your ex on such a frequent basis. 

The last time being just a few short days ago when he had come into the Apothecary that you worked at in Diagon Alley, looking for some ingredients for a new WWW product that he wanted to make a test batch of. You had still spent last Christmas with his family, at the nagging insistence of Molly. After your mother had turned up dead and your father was missing, and you had to face the fact that he had likely defected to the Death Eaters out of fear (and the stupidity of his ingrained ‘old ways’), you didn’t really have any other family to turn to, aside from the Weasleys. 

You saw Fred a lot more often than you should - more often than you wanted to, in fact. Because the more often you had to see him walk into your shop with a grin on his face and bear the small talk he would force you into before he finally put in his order, the more you ached. You wanted nothing more than to be able to get away - to go someplace far away that Fred would never find you, so that you could finally heal, could finally get over the way he had broken your heart. 

But the country, and likely the state of all Wizardkind, was in upheaval. So many lives were at risk, and you had your part to play. You had signed on to become a member of the Order the minute you turned seventeen, and you weren’t prepared to shirk that commitment now, just because of a bit of girlish heartbreak. 

It was the reason that you were standing in the now empty residence of Number Four, Privet Drive. You had been called upon last minute to replace Tonks on this particular mission, for reasons that everyone seemed tight lipped about. But you weren’t going to question it - you were just going to step up and do your duty so that Harry could be transported safely, and hopefully go on to defeat the Dark Lord once and for all. 

According to Mad-Eye Moody, it was all very straight forward. Six of the fourteen members of the group would take Polyjuice Potion to turn themselves into decoy versions of Harry, making for seven Harrys in total, and the other half of the group would pair off with a Harry each to be their escort. 

You weren’t a huge fan of the idea of Fred disguising himself as Harry, essentially putting a huge target on his back - but the plan had already been set in place. He had already agreed to it. There was no room for you to protest now. 

“We’re not a big fan of the idea either, mate.” George spoke up when Harry protested against the idea of people risking their lives by being disguised as him. 

“Yeah, imagine something went wrong, then we’d be stuck as a scrawny, specky git forever.” Fred added on with his usual humorous tone. 

You held back a laugh at this comment, and everyone in the room eyed you harshly as you choked on your own breath. Fred smirked, proud that after all this time, he could still draw a laugh out of you. 

Your sense of humour about the whole situation was soon stamped out when Mad-Eye mentioned brooms. The group would have to be flying because Harry couldn’t apparate or use any other common form of transport without the Ministry knowing. 

“Brooms?” You questioned, knowing that your tone sounded far too panicked. “We - we’re flying?” 

“Yes.” Mad-Eye snipped curtly in return. “What exactly about my explanation was unclear, Ms. L/N?” 

His sharp tone and his glare in your direction, along with his use of your surname, instantly transported you back you Defense Against the Darks Arts classes in your sixth year, when you had been intimidated by the man - even if, strangely enough, you hadn’t been taught by the same man who now stood before you. 

You swallowed tightly, a large lump forming in your throat already - an involuntary, wicked reaction overtaking your body because of your fear of heights. Fred looked at you with sad knowing in his eyes, and you didn’t notice when he clenched his fists tightly at his sides, resisting the urge to swaddle you in a comforting hold. 

“Nothing was unclear, just-” You stuttered, breathing in deeply, trying to calm yourself. “I don’t have much experience with flying, and-” 

“Weasley - er - Fred, has already informed me of that.” Mad-Eye said, correcting himself when he realised just how many ‘Weasleys’ were on this mission and how utterly confusing that would get. “He’s insisted on taking you due to your lack of experience. Is that all?” 

Obviously, you didn’t want to publicly admit to your fear. You couldn’t reveal it as the terrible weakness that it was, especially not when there were so many other worries at play. 

“Yes, it’s fine.” You said, nodding, trying to keep the conversation short and keep the attention off you. 

“Good. Now if we’re all done dawdling, we need to get to work.” 

It was downright strange seeing Fred transformed into Harry. 

Even complete with the dorky clothes and the glasses, you still easily spotted him out of the crowd of ‘specky gits’. Maybe it was the years of practice that you had telling him apart from George that made it so easy for you, but he was still so irritably Fred. The fact that he slid his wand into his back pocket - something you had warned him dozens of times would likely result in the wand crunching in half and breaking when he sat down (and annoyed you to the point of you snatching it out of his back pocket to save it, especially before he sat down). The way he reached up to scratch his nose, the smirk on his face when he kept glancing over at the other Harry you were sure had to be George. Especially with the way they were steadily side-eyeing each other, speaking volumes with their looks and having a silent conversation that nobody else knew of. 

The fact that his eyes kept flickering to you every few moments definitely helped you to pick him out of the crowd. Even though you were used to a gentle hazel gazing at you rather than that piercing blue, there was still a unique concern behind his eyes when he looked at you from beyond those spectacles - the same kind of gentle seriousness that you hadn’t really seen from him since he had held your shaking hand on the stairs of the stands on the day of The World Cup. 

Stupidly, it only really occurred to you how close you would have to be with Fred, tightly riding behind him on the back of his broom, when you went outside and he ushered you to climb onto the back of his broom behind him. It had been a little over a year since you had broken up with Fred, and since then, you had not touched him. 

Every greeting had been friendly, but from a distance. Even when he came into the Apothecary and laid his hand on the counter, you snaked out of the way in time to avoid his fingers so much as brushing by yours. You always laid his order on the counter for him to pick it up himself, so that his fingers wouldn’t accidentally brush against yours. You made sure never to have contact with him. And now, you were being forced to climb onto the back of his broom, to hold him tight. 

But you couldn’t protest. You couldn’t demand to switch partners now because of some petty angst you were harbouring about a break-up that had happened so long ago. (Would you call it angst, or stupid, longing, painful heartbreak?) You couldn’t complain - not when this was about transporting Harry safely. This was about something so much bigger. 

Sure, it wouldn’t be exactly the same as holding onto your Fred (not that he was yours anymore - you had to remember that). He was Harry-Fred right now, so he was much shorter and thinner, and you could easily pretend that he wasn’t Fred at all. Which is what you forced yourself to think about as you swung a shaking leg over the broom and climbed on, wrapping your arms around his waist, preparing for take-off. 

It was a bit harder to pretend that this wasn’t Fred when you caught the faintest whiff of his expensive cologne (something he had only started wearing once the shop took off, something you noticed on him for the first time when he came to visit you at the Apothecary). It was definitely still lingering on his skin, something that was so painfully Fred even while you stared at the back of Harry’s wild black hair. 

It pierced your heart a little bit more when he peered over his shoulder at you, striking you as so Fred with those somehow warm, caring blue eyes and gently asking: 

“Good?” 

To which you replied: 

“m fine.” 

The most terrible lie you had ever conjured - something that was soon covered up by Mad-Eye shouting some last minute instructions and waving everyone off. 

When Fred kicked off the ground, you were immediately met with the most sickening wave of nausea that you had ever experienced in your life. You got way too high up for your liking within seconds, the houses on the ground growing far too small in your view, and you couldn’t fight the urge to shut your eyes. 

Unfortunately, it only made you dizzier, but it calmed your nerves a slight bit. You didn’t even realise how tightly you were clutching onto Fred, an utter death grip around his waist, until you heard him let out a grunt of pain from his stomach muscles being strangled by your arms with your fingers digging into him like claws, holding on for dear life. 

“S-sorry.” You stuttered out, shivering from the pure fear of it all, rather than the cool breeze that was whipping at your face. “Sorry, sorry!” 

“I’m sorry!” Fred replied - it was still strange hearing him speak in Harry’s voice, and you were glad that it was temporary. “I should have told them you weren’t up to this mission, I-” 

“I’m fine!” You barked back, hating the idea that your fear would make you unfit for a mission. But in a sense, you knew it was true. You would have spit in the face of any Death Eater, but your fear of heights was so utterly crippling. “Fred, don’t you dare for a moment suggest-” 

“We’ve been breached!” You heard someone - Arthur’s voice, shouting from up ahead. 

Your eyes whipped open and suddenly, you were filled with an entirely different kind of fear. Smoky black clouds of Death Eaters whipped through the sky around you - somehow, they had discovered the plan. And now, they were targeting all of the fake Harrys, firing off curses in every direction, looking for the real one. 

They were targeting Fred. 

That was the only thing at the forefront of your mind - they were going to hurt Fred. 

“Y/N-?” 

“Just get us out of here!” You told him. “I’ll cover you!” 

You knew that you couldn’t close your eyes now. Of course you would step up to protect him. No matter if the two of you were lovers, friends, or something estranged - you still loved him in your heart, and you would protect him no matter what. 

You grabbed your wand out of your jacket and gripped it stiffly, firing a stunning curse at the first silver mask you saw, still tightly gripping onto Fred’s jacket with your other hand. He used both his hands on the broom, gripping tighter with his legs to steer better, years of Quidditch honed skill coming in handy. His ability to be calm and fly mindfully while Bludgers were flying at his head made him a lot calmer with multiple Death Eaters firing potentially deadly curses all around him. In the back of his mind, he thought that Wood would be proud. 

You were still shaking horribly, and a few of your spells didn’t land on the first try, but you kept trying. You centred yourself, remembering what you were doing, who you were here for. In your mind, it wasn’t about Harry, it was never about Harry - it was about Fred. It was because Fred had approached you about the last minute replacement, it was because Fred was the one on the broom in front of you, the one you would have died to protect. 

You didn’t see when someone Apparated in a thick cloud of black smoke behind you, and raised their wand in your direction, hitting you squarely in the back with a heavy jinx. It was the force of a brick wall smacking you, something that sent you and Fred tumbling end over end through the sky and sent you flying cleanly off the broom because you didn’t have the instinct to grip the wood with your thighs like he did. 

You let out a shrill scream as you felt yourself falling, your worst fear coming to life. 

Thankfully, Fred was quicker than gravity - quicker than death. 

He laser focused on you, and suddenly, everyone else was gone. All the supposed danger, all the Death Eaters - even other members of the Order who might have needed his help - they all vanished in his eyes. 

It was only you. 

He turned the broom into a deadly nose dive, racing down toward you, reaching with his hand out, and in seconds, while you were still hundreds of feet off the ground - he snatched you. He had your wrist gripped so tightly in his hand - slightly sweaty, already slipping. But he wouldn’t have let go of you if Lord Voldemort himself commanded it.  

He likely would have died with that tight grip still around your wrist in those moments if someone had hit him with the killing curse. 

He slowed the broom down, turning up out of the dive, intent to get you away from the fight, driving forward. Scarily, his arm muscles were already shaking from holding up all of your body weight. 

You stared up at him with tears of pure terror dancing in your eyes, and though he was wearing the mask of The Chosen One - in those moments, the terrified, caring, loving eyes of your Fred were staring right back at you. 

As much as you trusted him, you felt yourself slipping out of his grip, and more fear swelled inside of you. 

“Freddie, help me!” You screamed, shaking, flailing under his grip, trying to reach your other arm up to help as he struggled to hold onto you. “Freddie, please, I don’t wanna die!” 

“I’m not gonna let you die!” He replied, desperation gripping his throat. “Just - look at me. Don’t look down.” 

Of course, you were distinctly reminded of that day at The World Cup. And somehow, you felt the same sense of safety with him now that you did then - even if you didn’t have the railing or even the gravity of something under your feet. 

His muscles shook harder, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold onto you for much longer. 

He had to pull you up. 

“I’ve got you.” Fred huffed, straining with the effort. “I’ve got you-” 

He tried pulling you up, but his muscles shook harder in protest, and he let out a harsh, murderous scream of frustration. And then he did the only thing that he could think to do. He gripped onto you tighter, and he used his legs and his other hand to do a sickeningly sharp barrel roll, twisting the broom completely around by leaning with his right shoulder. He flipped the entire broom with the hopes that you would get the chance to be flipped back onto it safely. 

Luckily, even though you let out another terrified scream, you got the hint and hooked your leg around the wood mid-air, holstering your shaking body back behind him. You gripped onto Fred even tighter then, and one glance around told you that luckily, or unluckily, the fight had cleared off from around the two of you. 

Perhaps they had heard you call this imposter Harry by the name ‘Fred’, perhaps you had given the real Harry away and ruined the whole plan. As you squeezed your eyes shut again and shoved your now tearful face into Fred’s back, selfishly, you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care. 

The rest of the trip went on too long for your liking - you were still crawling with anxiety and eager to have your feet back on the ground. 

Toward the end of it, you felt Harry-Fred’s body shift back into the tall, more muscular form that you were familiar with (somehow a bit more muscular than you remembered, but you tried not to get caught up on that detail). You were more than relieved when you felt your feet brushing against the ground with the landing. Distantly, you heard the familiar, comfortingly worried baulking of Molly’s voice, and you opened your eyes to see that Fred’s head was much higher up than it had been before, and his hair was thankfully returned back to its bright red state. 

Molly rushed over to Fred, and there was some conversation, but you couldn’t make it out - blood was thumping in your ears, your body still overtaken by all the horrible symptoms of your fear. The moment that Fred dropped the broom in order to step away from it, you stumbled off into the grass on weak legs. 

You hardly realised that you were hyperventilating - you simply felt dizzy, felt your chest aching from the lack of breath; you noticed that your vision was blurred with tears, and you knew that you weren’t getting enough oxygen. You pressed now muddy hands to your face in desperation, trying to usher more air past your lips, and it was then that a streak of orange fell into your view as Fred dropped to his knees in front of you. He had heard you gasping, and of course, rushed to you with nothing more than concern flooding his system once again. 

“Hey, hey, look at me.” He murmured, trying his best not to panic himself at seeing you like this - he gently took a hold of your face, guiding your vision toward him. “Look at me. You’re alright now. You’re safe.” 

Of course you knew that. You knew that you would always be safe with Fred. 

But your body hadn’t even registered the fact that you had landed yet - the panic only now fully setting in, bringing with it the most cruel, shocking symptoms you had ever experienced. You did the only thing you could think of - the only thing that would truly make you feel safe. Something you knew would truly ground you after experiencing such chaos so high up in the air. 

You launched yourself toward Fred, pressing your face into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist in a firm hug as you tried to stifle down sobs. He easily accepted this, his thick arms coming to cradle your back, selfishly thankful to have you back in his arms. He gently rocked you back and forth as he peppered more soothing words beside your ear. 

“You’re alright now, darling.” He said, letting the pet name slip so easily that it frightened him. He rubbed a hand up and down your back, feeling your gasping panic all too quickly soothe away under the firm warmth of his touch. “You’re alright.” 

Almost instinctively, he laid a kiss on your temple, not entirely realising that this wasn’t necessarily something an ex-boyfriend would do - he was so ripe with the urge to comfort you, the need to make your pain go away. He couldn’t help but take a little something selfish as the empathetic waves of your panic echoed over to him. 

“I was never gonna let you fall.” He whispered, almost speaking these words to himself - a sacred promise. 

He had regretted every day since the break-up, and even if he couldn’t be your lover, he was never going to let you get hurt. 

You gripped him tighter, your breathing almost back to normal now, and you pushed your face tighter into his chest, relishing in the firm warmth of his body against you. This was something you hadn’t felt in far too long. Fred placed another kiss on the top of your head. He was about to say something entirely dangerous when another bit of chaos came tumbling through the garden, distracting him away from you and causing the words to die off in his throat. 

Remus, hauling George across the grass - and George, slumped over, a massive amount of blood dripping down the side of his head. 

“Georgie.” Fred gasped quietly. 

Your head whipped around at this, and in sync, you and Fred scrambled to your feet, rushing to see what had happened to him. Fred lifted George’s other arm to help get him inside and safely rested him on the couch. 

It was a horror show. 

The flesh of George’s ear had been blown to bits, blood smearing down across his face and spilling down the side of his neck; he was sickly pale and barely conscious. His eyes only flickered, giving you some sense of life in him when Fred called out his name after making sure he was resting comfortably on the couch. 

“Georgie?” 

There was a rare quiver in Fred’s voice that made your stomach quake. Fear. You were not accustomed to hearing Fred fearful, not of anything. Even when he had abandoned Hogwarts and dove into a career as a shop owner without a single clue if he would find success, he did so without a single bit of fear in his heart. 

But of course - seeing his dear brother like this, knowing that someone he loved had been so close to danger - it made him terrified. 

“Hey, Fred.” George croaked back weakly. 

At least he was conscious enough to speak. That gave you quite a bit of relief. 

“How’re ya feeling?” Fred asked. 

“Saint-like.” George replied, a tired smirk gracing his lips that told you he was forming a joke - something that was utterly hilarious in his mind that would only make sense to others when he delivered the punch line. 

You wanted to sob, you wanted to laugh, you wanted to scream. Of course he would be making jokes only moments after nearly being killed. 

“Come again?” Fred said quietly, tentatively. 

Perhaps it sounded partially dangerous to him like it did to you. Perhaps George felt Saint-like because he was too close to death. 

Both of you and Fred held your breath as you waited for the reply. 

“Saint-like.” George grinned. And then he lifted a tired hand and gestured toward the bloody hole on the side of his head before he delivered his glowing punchline. “I’m holy. I’m holy, Fred. Get it?” 

Fred grinned, and you let out a gasping chuckle that you knew was mostly tears. Behind you, Molly inhaled sharply through her teeth, running a hand over her forehead with the stress, and Ginny shook her head as she exhaled an exhausted sigh. 

“The whole wide world of ear related humour, and you go for ‘I’m holy’?” Fred replied, unable to resist humouring George. “That’s pathetic.” 

You knew that if either of them knew anything about the story of the Muggle painter Van Gogh, then they would have been making jokes in that lane. 

“Reckon I’m still better looking than you.” George added on tiredly. 

“You were always better looking than him.” You said, your voice throttled by tears, unable to resist. 

When you turned around to retreat, you saw Ginny clutching onto Molly, clearly hiding tears in her mother’s shoulder, Molly’s face dancing with a kind of sadness you had never seen before. You knew you couldn’t run from your pain. You had known the Weasleys for so long, loved them too much. You had a distinct kind of duty here. 

“Molly, do you have a cauldron around?” You asked, hating how choked with tears your voice was. “I can whip-up something for his pain. I do it at the shop all the time. And a Sleeping Draught, so he can get some rest.” 

It was true - one of your many duties working at the Apothecary was making and bottling simple, common potions to sell (pregnancy test potions, simple multi-use pain potions, Dreamless Sleep Draughts, cures for warts and other common rashes) - many people liked the convenience of coming in and buying a potion for everyday uses rather than having to make it themselves. 

“There’s no need-” George began to protest, but Fred easily cut him off. 

“Come off it.” Fred hissed toward his brother, not taking kindly to ‘selfless’ idea of George not accepting something for the pain he was clearly in. Then, Fred rose up from his place beside George and turned to you with a look of intense concern on his features. “Whatever you need.” 

… 

You had barely begun to set up everything you needed for the brewing when the others finally came in, bringing more chaos with them. Remus accused Harry of being an imposter, which was quickly proven false. Apparently the Order had been betrayed, which explained the presence of Death Eaters on the mission so easily. They had used inside information to know when Harry was being transported - it was only luck that they had been thrown off by the Polyjuice Potion, having to chase down multiple Harrys and not knowing which one was real (even if George got gravely injured in the process). 

Mad-Eye had been killed. 

You weren’t sure if what you felt was mourning for the man. You hadn’t known him all that well. Not the true version of him, anyway. You continued to weep quietly as you worked on the potions, but you knew it wasn’t specifically for him. His death only served to remind you how truly dangerous the mission had been - how close you, Fred, and George, and the others had all come to death. How lucky it was that nobody else had been killed. 

You tried not to let the suffocating gloom that had overtaken the Burrow due to the near failure of the entire mission disrupt the process of making the potions needed for George. When Molly didn’t have some of the ingredients that you needed, you gave Fred your spare key to the Apothecary and he popped over to get them for you. Mr. Michaelchuk, who ran the place, had always told you to ‘take what you needed’, and this was the one time you had actually taken him up on the offer. 

When Fred returned, he fussed at George’s side, helping him change into pyjamas (when everyone else had cleared out) and tucking him in comfortably to a makeshift bed on the couch, with lots of pillows and extra cosy blankets, to the point where he got annoyed with Fred coddling him. You always knew that the two were good friends in addition to being brothers, as close as two people can be, but you had never seen so much abundant affection between them. It was sweet. 

Molly came back downstairs wearing a plaid dressing gown, with a pair of tiny reading glasses balanced on her nose, her slippers scuffing along the floor. She mentioned that Arthur was already ‘snoring away’ - but of course, she had no intentions of going to bed herself. Because of course, if George was down here on the couch, it was so that she could watch over him while she busied herself with knitting - much like she had when Arthur had been on the ward at St. Mungo’s after he had been attacked by the snake. You had gotten a particularly nice jumper for Christmas that year, one that you still wore often when it got particularly cold outside. 

Fred had settled to sit on the couch by George’s feet, and the two had fallen into a hushed conversation, though you didn’t hear most of it. And of course, it wasn’t long before Molly rushed Fred off to bed, just like she had done with everyone else, wanting to give George the space to rest without distractions from visitors. 

“-just get her back, you idiot.” You hear George hiss in a whisper before Molly pushed Fred toward the stairs. 

He couldn’t possibly be talking about…? 

No. 

No, he wasn’t. 

You didn’t think about it. Instead, you let yourself get lost in the meditative process of brewing, making sure that the potions were perfect. You made sure that George was pain-free and lost to a deep, restful, healing sleep (with a few pre-brewed bottles of the potions to spare that would keep his pain at bay for the next few days) before you finally went upstairs, ready to collapse with exhaustion. 

You passed by Fred and George’s room on your way to your final destination, Ginny’s room, where you would be staying with her and Hermione, from now up until Bill and Fleur’s wedding. After which, you would return to your apartment above the Apothecary and try to resume your best sense of ‘normal’ life. All of your things were already unpacked in Ginny’s room, and you had a sleeping bag set up on the floor there. 

But of course, you naturally came to a stop at the mouth of Fred’s open bedroom doorway, letting an instinctive caring overtake you and participating in the need to check on him. 

The sight you saw made your heart ache. 

Fred was sitting on the edge of his twin bed, his posture slumped with pure exhaustion. He hadn’t even changed out of the now ill-fitting Harry clothes that he had to wear for the mission: jeans, a tee shirt, and a grey sport jacket that were now coated in dirt and traces of George’s blood, all oddly short in the limbs and emphasising his tallness, his hands still stained bright red in a way that couldn’t be washed off. 

His face was marked with tear tracks, and his tired, dead gaze was fixated on George’s still neatly made matching twin bed. A space that was hauntingly empty across from his - a sign that his brother was missing. A sign of just how easily someone precious could have been taken from him that night. 

“Freddie?” 

You croaked out, the nickname slipping out in a way you couldn’t control once again, causing him to snap out of whatever distant, depressing thoughts he was caught in. His head jolted toward you, only now realising that you had been standing in the doorway for so long. 

“Y/N,” He responded, his voice choked by tiredness, sadness. 

It was so alarmingly strange to see someone who was usually the pinnacle of laughter reduced down to this. You had never seen Fred Weasley so sad before. 

You had seen him angry, on occasion - like when someone insulted you, or when he had been banned from Quidditch for getting into a fistfight with Malfoy. You had seen him annoyed - like when he found out that the age to enter the TriWizard Tournament was seventeen, and he was only a few months away from being eligible. (You were thankful for that one, and secretly thankful when his Ageing Potion had failed). 

You had seen Fred go through a lot - but you genuinely believed that was the first time you had seen him so deflated in the face of the world. 

He rose to his feet, turned his back to you, almost as if trying to hide. He raised a hand to his face, and your heart ached more when you realised that he was trying to wipe away tears. 

“Come on, let’s get you ready for bed.” You said, moving forward, gently putting a hand on his shoulder, moving up to peel the sport jacket off him. 

You knew that the sadness, something he so rarely felt, had paralyzed him. You knew that sleep was what all of you needed right now - some rest to get your heads on straight. And you wanted to help him in any way that you could. 

“I can’t-” Fred huffed, stepping away from you, putting some distance between the two of you in the small room. “I can’t do this right now.” 

Your stomach curled into a horrible knot as he echoed the words he had spoken to you on that horrible day, when he had broken up with you and relinquished himself from your presence without a second thought. 

It truly hit you then - he didn’t want your help. He didn’t want to be near you now. He had only held you close a few hours ago because it had been a matter of life and death. He had helped to calm you down because it was the friendly thing to do. He didn’t want you here now. 

“Okay.” You choked out, nodding, taking a step toward the door. “O-okay.” 

A hot tear rolled down your face, and you moved to make your way toward Ginny’s room. You were harshly whipped across the emotional spectrum again when Fred stopped you. 

“Y/N, no.” He said, reaching out and grabbing onto your elbow. “Wait.” 

“What, Fred?” You wheezed, your body breathless and exhausted from the horrible roller coaster that you had been on that night. You knew that you glared at him horribly, but you couldn’t help it. “What is it that you want from me?” 

Fred took a step back, as though you had burned him, running stiff hands through his hair. You could have easily run off, turned your back on him and never spoken to him again. Just like he had done to you on that day so long ago. But you waited with your chest tight, waiting for him to finally give you an answer. Did he want to be friends? Did he want you to disappear from his life completely? Did he want-? 

“I can’t-” He choked out, clearly struggling for breath. “I can’t…” 

He swallowed around a fat tongue, and after a heavy moment, he finally got the words out. 

“I can’t lose you.” 

The words spooked you more than the sight of George’s bloodied, blown-apart ear. 

You stared Fred down with a ghost in your eyes, somehow more terrified than you had been when you had been dangling hundreds of feet above London. He was frantic, rapidly searching for more words to explain himself. 

“I - I almost…” He gasped, his throat tightly constricting again. “You almost slipped out of my hands.” 

He spoke the words as though they were a horrible curse, raising his hands in front of him as if to demonstrate the point, as if to demonise his own limbs for not having enough strength to hold you up. His hands shook with undistilled anxiety, with anger towards himself. 

His declaration gave you that sickly sense of nausea, as though you were back up in the air again. You realised that maybe he hadn’t been sitting on the edge of the bed, mourning about potentially losing George - but instead, he had been thinking about you. 

“I didn’t. I didn’t slip.” You replied, the words choked off in your throat, rushing to assure him of the good he had done. 

You were unable to resist the urge to reach out and take his hands in yours, steadying his grip with a firm anger of your own. You were unsure how he could be so cruel toward himself when he had saved your life only hours before. 

“You held me up, Fred. You didn’t let me fall.” 

He let out a huff, shaking his head negatively. 

You knew there was something more troubling him - something deeper that he had yet to speak of, or perhaps wouldn’t tell you at all. He grinded his jaw tightly and slipped his hands away from yours. You stood there, looking at him tensely, wondering if he was going to clue you in, or if he would simply say goodnight and let himself stew with whatever horrible emotions he was feeling. 

“I can’t live like this.” He declared harshly, his throat raw. “I can’t live with you at arm’s length.” 

So what? Was he saying that… he was upset about the break-up? 

Was he saying that he hadn’t actually wanted to be apart from you? 

A look of pure confusion knit across your features, and in the murky silence, Fred moved on to explaining. 

“I let you go once before.” 

He whispered, the words so quiet on his lips, a crazed type of regret dancing in his eyes - in an instant, you knew he wasn’t talking about the mission or flying. He was talking about how easily he let you go from his life - the break-up. 

“I let you slip away from me far too easily. And it was the stupidest thing I have ever done.” 

“Freddie-?” You choked out, more chaotic emotions rocketing through your body now. Anticipation, anxiety - that love for him that you had bottled away slowly creeping back in. But you couldn’t bear to let it flow through you, not yet, not until you knew. 

“If one of us were to die tomorrow, I couldn’t live my last day knowing that I wasted it not being yours.” He declared, the pure passion in his words causing every small hair on your body to stand up on end, making you dizzy. “I know that I’m the biggest git on earth for what I did to you, and for not apologising sooner, but please, please, please, darling-” 

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You grabbed both sides of the sport jacket and used it to haul him down toward you, planting your mouth firmly onto his, moaning into a kiss that you had longed for, having so sorely missed the touch of his lips on yours. 

You had missed him so damn much. 

Fred was quick to keep up, letting out a delighted sigh of his own, his stomach doing flips in delight, almost in disbelief of just how lucky he was that you hadn’t slapped him across the face and stormed out. 

When your hands ventured down, smoothing across his body - he became even more delighted that you seemed to want more than a kiss out of him. And he was quick to prepare. 

He reached to his back pocket for his wand and pointed it at the still open bedroom door, performing a quick spell that slammed it shut and locked it. In the back of his mind, he was thankful that his bedroom had some silencing wards around it from the days when Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes had been in its infancy, operating their prototype experiments out of this room in the darkest hours of the morning. (Percy got sick of being woken up by the twins’ excited voices and the sound of sputtering cauldrons, and put the silencing wards around their room for his own sake, not knowing how much more it let the twins get away with.) 

Fred was surprised when you took another fitful grip on the front of his shirt, using it to direct him back toward his bed and shoving him down onto it with a strength that he barely knew you had. He fell sideways across the small twin bed, his knees crumbling along the side of the mattress, leaving him sitting with his feet on the floor and his body half collapsed against the tightly tucked-in covers that his mother had prepared before everyone’s arrival. 

He was utterly weak to your whims, anyway, and would have gone wherever you put him. 

He was expecting you to climb on top of him, something needy inside of him yearning for the feeling of your body on top of his after missing it for so long. And he found himself further surprised when you dropped to your knees in front of him, settling your shoulders between his spread thighs, forcing him to spread his legs wider apart to accommodate you. The action spiking a sharp breath out of his lips when you shoved up the hem of the shirt that technically wasn’t his and reached for the button on the jeans that fit him even worse as his cock grew to life underneath them. 

“Y/N, darling-” He choked out, breathy and sharp through his teeth, an intense wave of lust hitting him all at once. 

All night, both of you had been through the emotional ringer - calm determination, fear, possessiveness, mild relief, grief. All while trying to hold back your emotions for each other, balancing right on the edge. Trying desperately to hold each other at arm’s length. 

And now he had you right where he wanted you, where he had been dreaming of you being for months since the break-up; and for some stupid reason, some part of him still felt that it was wrong. That part of him screaming that he should be the one on his knees serving you, that he needed to better apologise-

He reached for your shoulder, clearly trying to coax you back up onto the bed with him, and you swatted the touch away. 

“Don’t-” You choked in return, continuing on your determined path, ripping his zipper down and tugging at the waistband of his jeans. “Freddie, please. Let me do this.” 

You looked up at him with a glassy heat in your eyes that he had never seen before. All the times he had pinned you against walls in quiet corners at Hogwarts, with his hand up your skirt - he had never seen you so wild, so desperate. 

Something utterly possessive rippled through you - something that screamed that you needed to have him weak and moaning for you, that you needed to worship him, to thank him for doing the impossible and saving your life. He was a strong, wonderful man and you needed to taste that strength. You needed to know that you were the only thing that could have him weak, quivering, begging. 

“Fuck-” Fred hissed out when you reached past the band of his underwear and grabbed his cock - your warm touch wrapped around his shaft felt like a deadly awakening, especially when it had been so long since anything but his own had had touched his cock. 

All too soon, he surrendered to you entirely and lifted his hips, slipping the fabric of his jeans and his underwear down completely past his thighs, letting you have whatever you wanted from him. He supposed that’s how it always went with the two of you - he would let you have whatever you wanted, even before you asked. (That’s why the break-up had gone down the way it had - it had been the one time he had been stubborn on something, not simply letting you have your own way.) 

You took him in your hand, slowly pumping his length as you admired him, gently re-familiarising yourself with his body, feeling like it had been far too long. 

“Did you miss it, darling?” He asked, looking down the length of his body at you with a cocky smile stretched across his soft lips. 

You rolled your eyes, hating the possibility of making his ego any larger. 

“Oh yes, your wonderful big cock was the thing I missed most about you,” You griped in return, hoping that your sarcastic tone was more than apparent. 

“I knew you only wanted me for my body.” Fred chuckled. 

As much as you wanted to deny it - Fred Weasley’s cock was a marvel that you couldn’t have forgotten if you had tried. 

During your time apart, it haunted your heated dreams, turning them into nightmares of pure want, your mind dangling something in front of you that you couldn’t have. It made things even worse when he would come into the Apothecary, flirting with you and flashing you a smile, showing off his broad shoulders in those fine tailored suit jackets and making your eyes flicker to his zipper in an utterly whorish way. 

Now, you felt spoiled to have it in front of you again - the perfect beastly eight inches, lean and tall just like he was, curved off slightly to the side, sticking off from a sparse patch of ginger hair. 

Your pussy clenched as you thought about having him inside of you again for the first time in so long, giving you that perfectly full feeling that your fingers never could - but you craved his taste first. You wanted him under your control - you knew part of it was driven by all the fear you had experienced that night, all the chaos that had made you feel so powerless. You needed to feel alive, needed to wield power over someone, something. 

You got your mouth on his cock with a downright feral hunger. 

Fred let out a deep moan and threw his head back, collapsing onto his elbows as the heat and wetness of your mouth enveloped the heat of his cock - it sent another wave of lust zipping through him, reminding him just how throbbing hard he was, just how much he needed you. This was made even worse when you moaned around him - you couldn’t help but to enjoy the feeling of his cock in your mouth, perfectly full, making you choke in such a beautiful way when you dropped down to take more of him. 

“Fuck, darling, shite-” 

You quickly became drunk on the feeling. 

Your eyes fell closed and you simply let yourself enjoy it, loving the fullness of his big, beautiful cock filling up your mouth. With a hand loosely wrapped around the base of his cock, your jaw wide as you began bobbing your head. Your tongue flat against the base, tasting as much of him as you could while you enjoyed the feeling of him so fat and thick in your mouth, gagging you slightly whenever the round tip hit against the back of your throat. It was a perfect, slow rhythm that agonised him and delighted you, and soon had spit pooling around your knuckles. 

The wetness drove him even more insane, especially when it allowed for your soft lips to move slicker against his shaft. 

“Goddammit, please, please, oh-” 

You could feel his thighs begin to quake and quiver beside you, and you wondered if he was close already. 

You couldn’t resist the urge to pull off - wanting to tease him a little. Part of you wanted that bit of revenge, wanting to get him back for the pain he had caused you when he had turned his back on you that day. Though you weren’t entirely cruel, and you didn’t leave him hanging out to dry completely. 

You kept your hand pumping on his now spit-slicked cock (it was that slow, agonising rhythm that caused him to pant like a needy dog), and you moved your mouth downward, giving in to the personal urge to lick and suck on his heavy balls. You did want to drive him a bit more insane, and give into your personal curiosity about what the heavy sac would feel like against your tongue. 

“Fucking - oh - darling, what are you doing to me-? That fucking mouth-” 

Fred wasn’t sure if this was heaven or hell. 

It left him stuck in some sick purgatory where the woman he loved had turned into a sex-crazed vixen, but wouldn’t let him touch you everywhere he wanted to most. Instead, he was sentenced to stare at you as your gorgeous mouth teased his aching cock, making him harder, driving him madder with every stroke of your little devilish tongue. He couldn’t take it anymore - not when your pretty fingers gripped around the base of his cock just right and your lips suctioned so perfectly around one of his bullocks. 

He wouldn’t waste the night cumming over your fist without getting his hands on you properly first. 

He weaved his fingers into your hair and yanked you back, caused you to let out a small yelp - not one of pain, but a bitter sound of complaint as you were pulled off his cock too early for your liking. The sharp tingle of him pulling on your hair caused your tongue to lull out, trailing a filthy bit of spit back to his balls that had him growling. 

Before any words could form, he leaned down and used this grip on your hair to guide you to his lips, shoving his tongue into your open, waiting mouth - something that had you moaning once again, and easily following his lead as he guided you up to sit on his thigh. 

“Don’t expect that I’m gonna waste it all over your hand, darling.” He murmured against your lips between heated kisses. “When I cum tonight, it’s gonna be deep inside your sweet cunt, yeah?” 

You moaned loudly at this. 

You had devolved past the point of words now - having his cock so thick and heavy in your mouth only making you fuzzy-headed and more needy for him. You unconsciously canted your hips against his thigh, grinding your pussy against him through the fabric of your jeans, needing more. You panted against his cheek as he moved deft fingers to undo the button and zipper of your pants while he continued to speak. 

“I need you, pretty girl.” 

He growled lowly in your ear, the pure passion of the declaration causing such intense waves of lust through you that you would have collapsed - if not for the brick wall of his muscled body holding you up. (Hold you up for the dozenth time that night, only for a drastically different reason this time). 

“I need to see you cum on my cock. Missed this pretty cunt so much, can’t wait-” 

He trailed off in his crazed lustful ramblings when he shoved his fingers past the now open fly of your jeans and into your underwear, quickly finding a distinct wetness and landing on your clit with a firm touch like a magnet. 

“Freddie!” You wept into his neck, bucking into the touch as you tumbled into a madness of your own. 

He began circling quickly on your clit, enjoying your gasps and other sounds, enjoying the feeling of you bucking so wildly on his thigh. All too soon, he was overtaken by a little pinch of mischief that always crept up on him. The urge to get you back for your earlier teasing. He quickly removed his hand and felt a smirk spread across his lips at the deflated little whimper you made, your eyes snapping open just in time to catch him licking your wetness off his fingers. 

“Fred-” You began to protest, sharp demanding in your tone. 

“Come on, get these clothes off,” He said, giving you a firm pat on the ass that made you far too weak to his whims. 

“Freddie-” You whined this time - and rather than giving into you, he brought up a fantastic point. 

“The faster you get your clothes off, the faster I can get my cock in you.” He whispered hotly against your ear, making you shiver. 

You hated that he was right. 

You stood up, moving to strip your shirt off over your head, glaring at him the whole time while he also began to strip himself. 

“Go on, good girl.” 

You hated how those words made you even wetter. You hated how easily he manipulated you based on weaknesses he knew so well. 

“I hate you.” You mumbled quietly, absolutely no heat in the words as you reached to unclip your bra. 

“Oh darling, if only that were true.” 

He said pointedly, mourning peeking through that bit of mischief in his eyes. Something you didn’t have too much time to decode as stood to his full height to untangle his jeans from his legs, knowing that you would quake in his shadow and become even more turned on from this. 

Once you were both naked, he ushered you down onto the bed, making sure that you were comfortable with your head on the pillow as he captured your mouth in another needy kiss. You moaned against his lips, easily sucking his tongue in as you tangled your fingers into that fiery red hair and gave an appreciative tug. You then tucked your knee up over his hip, opening yourself up to him - this caused his heavy cock to brush against your wetness, making you gasp into his mouth as the two of you made contact for the first time in far too long. 

“Freddie-” You gasped, unconsciously bucking your hips up, causing your pussy to wetly slide against his cock in a way that forced a deep groan out of him. “Oh, fuck, oh-” 

“Shh, darling, Daddy’s got you,” Fred replied, palming across your forehead and your hair in an almost gentle way while he further parted your thighs with a firm knee. 

His words caused you to choke on another moan. 

You had heard Fred refer to himself as ‘Daddy’ before - but much like everything else in his life, it was always a joke. He would be buying his favourite sweets and mumble ‘come to Daddy’ before tearing open the package and devouring them. He would say that his codename was ‘Big Daddy’ when setting up a particularly epic prank. (George was ‘Big Red’ and you were usually ‘Darling’ or ‘Garden Flower’. They were not the most useful or top secret codenames.) You had heard him jokingly shout ‘Daddy’s home’ when returning to the Gryffindor common room, only to have the expected laughs and jokes in return. 

You had never expected that the name would turn you on so much. But you had never, ever expected to hear it in this context. You had also never expected that it would sound so natural in this context. But it suited him so well. It seemed to only compliment the gentle kind of caring he gave you - how protective he was over you, how safe he made you feel. 

“Daddy,” You moaned in return - Fred gripped your hip with a deadly, bruising grip and looked at you with a fierce heat in his eyes. 

Hearing that word from your lips turned him on in a way he couldn’t explain. And in that moment, it took every bit of his personal will not to slam his cock into you and hammer his hips forward until you said it again, and again, and again. Until you screamed it. 

He took a hold of his cock with the other hand, and you expected him to slide into you, finally giving you both what you truly needed - but instead, he began rubbing the round head of his cock against your clit, further teasing you. You let out a gasp and looked at him with pleading in your eyes. 

“Freddie,” You whined, attempting to angle your hips up, fruitlessly trying to trick him to slip his cock inside of you. You knew him too well, knowing that once he got the tip in, he wouldn’t be able to resist fucking you senseless. But he held you down with the hand on your hip, making you barely able to move at all against his muscular hold and the awkward angle he had you pinned with. 

“Come on, sweets,” He purred, laying a kiss on your forehead, and then your cheek, trailing kisses down your neck as he murmured against your skin. “Tell Daddy what you need. Say the word and I’ll give you anything you want.” 

He began roughly smacking his cockhead against your clit, making you jolt and gasp sharper, making your pussy leak furiously against the bed. You cried out and gripped his hair tightly, almost meanly, desperate for the teasing to end. You didn’t see the way he was staring at your cunt, mesmerised by the sight of your swollen pearl kissing against his cock, glistening, wet and needy. Something that he would burn into his brain forever and most definitely revisit on lonely nights. 

“Please, Daddy!” You moaned, hoping the name alone would goad him into giving in. But you knew what he truly wanted, and you couldn’t wait any longer. “Please - fuck - I need your cock. I need you to fuck me, I need-” 

Perhaps he was truly satisfied by this, or perhaps he couldn’t take the teasing anymore himself - either way, he finally guided his cock down to your pulsing entrance and pushed in, swearing hotly under his breath when the tight, wet, perfect heat of your cunt began sucking him in for the first time in over a year. 

“Oh, oh fuck, Freddie,” You moaned, tugging on his hair. “Oh-” 

“Fucking perfect,” He swore into your ear. “Dammit, I’ve missed this pussy so much.” He choked on a groan as he continued slowly inching his hips forward, splitting you open with his massive length, making your pussy ache and burn in the most perfect way. “Good girl. So good for me. So good for Daddy,” 

You both moaned loudly once he was fully seated inside of you - you, feeling that deep satisfaction of feeling so perfectly full once again, and Fred so deeply enjoying the wet warmth of your pussy around him that was so irreplaceable because it was you. 

Sensing your need, especially after all his teasing, and after spending so long without him - he didn’t make you wait any longer. 

Fred began rocking his hips into yours at a gentle, even pace, not wanting to hurt you. From the sound of your gentle whines and the feeling of you squirming beneath him, he could tell that you needed more. He could tell that now wasn’t the time for holding back. 

He let out a gentle grunt and you became even more heated and curious as he began shifting around, some clear intent on his mind. You let out a sharp gasp when he raised himself up on his knees, poising himself in the perfect position to fuck you hard, deep, and powerful. Then, he made it even more deadly when he grabbed you by the backs of your thighs, making more air hiss out through your lips when he pressed your body practically in half, pressing your knees up toward your chest before he hooked his arms under your legs to keep them there and planted his hands firmly on either side of your chest. 

The two of you were even closer, even more intimate, and you felt him so much deeper inside of you. 

“Freddie,” 

You croaked out darkly, already feeling him so much deeper as he settled in above you. Your pussy was leaking furiously around him now, clenching tightly and waiting for him to move as a ghost of dark mischief danced through his eyes that promised you were in for the sweetest kind of hell. 

“Good?” He asked, smirking at you. 

“Yes, but what about-?” 

You wanted to warn him not to make too much noise, not to break the bed, which was already creaking in protest underneath the two of you - but he didn’t entirely care. Fred never truly cared about the consequences of his actions once he got an idea in his head - to him, the thrill was more than worth whatever pain may befall him. 

The only time that hadn’t been true was when he had made the foolish, heat-of-the-moment mistake of breaking up with you. And now, he had to make up for it. 

He put all the power into his muscled thighs (the same muscled thighs that had saved you just a few hours ago by gripping onto his broom and steadying the flight) - and ploughed forward with intense power. This began an unforgiving, hard rhythm of pounding into your cunt in hard, deep, fast strokes. 

In seconds, you were putty beneath him - he had you perfectly pinned in place so that you couldn’t have moved an inch if you wanted to, all you could do was lay there and take it. You were weak against the savage movements of his long cock fucking into your swollen pussy over and over again, filling you up in the best way you could have imagined, becoming everything you needed in the world. 

As the room filled with the harsh, wet slaps of his skin against yours and your weak moans, followed by his increasingly animalistic grunts - all there was in the world was you and Fred, the space where the two of you met, the place where he had your thighs pinned open so that his cock could absolutely ruin your pussy.  

“Good girl, such a good girl for me,” He growled against your lips - you moaned pathetically in return, flooding even more wetness around his cock, making the sound of him fucking into you embarrassingly slicker. “Never should have let you go. Should have kept you right here, right where you belong,” 

You wanted to tell him that perhaps the fight was both of your faults, that you should have reached out to him sooner and told him that you wanted him back. That the time apart had been so dreadfully tender for you too. 

But your brain was soup, only further stirred up by the tip of his cock poking around in your guts. So any words you could have said chased out of your lungs with every passionate thrust of his hips up into your wet pussy, and all you managed in return was: 

“Daddy! Fuck, oh-!” 

“Shh, darling, I know.” Fred mumbled into your neck, taking a sloppy, greedy lick of your skin. “I know, sweets. Daddy’s gonna give you what you need. Gonna keep you fucked n’ full. Never gonna let you go again. Never gonna let anyone else touch you-” 

Fred’s hips stuttered and you tightly squeezed around his cock at the words. 

Perhaps it was a wink of his personal insecurity peeking through. The horrifying idea that because he had broken up with you, you might find somebody else. When in fact, you had been so caught up on him, only thinking about him, waiting for him. (The whole time, thinking that he had broken up with you because he no longer had any favour in his heart for you.) 

“Just you, Freddie.” You breathed out, desperately trying to get air past your now very chapped lips. “Always yours-” 

“Yes, mine.” He replied, that crazed desperation returning to his voice. “Mine, my girl.” 

He sealed his lips against yours, grinding his hips tightly against your pelvis rather than fucking you with any kind of rhythm now - showing you just how deep he was inside of you, just how much he owned you, truly, from the inside out. It was something that made your stomach clench, made your body buzz with electricity, and made you whine around his tongue. 

You were close. 

Fred knew this - he knew you too well. He moved a hand down to your clit, letting one of your legs drop slightly, and had two determined fingers on your throbbing clit while he picked up the pace again, pulling his lips back from yours. 

“You gonna cum for me? Gonna cum for Daddy like a good girl?” 

His words, his velvet voice speaking to you so commanding yet so sweet, were what truly brought your orgasm to life in your belly. His voice made the fullness of his cock and the sharpness of his fingers on your clit all the more electric. You likely could have cum just from his words alone if he kept speaking to you that way. 

“Yes, Daddy.” You moaned in response. 

“Good girl. Come on,” 

He breathed hotly against your chin, his eyes now eagerly dancing from your face to the space where your cunt hugged his dick, leaking around him in such a wonderfully filthy way. Clearly, he wasn’t sure where he wanted to look, what part of the show he was more eager to witness after missing out on you for too long. 

“Come on, cum on my cock. Cum for me, love, good girl-” 

His heated words trailed off as your head snapped back and your eyes squeezed shut, your fingers digging sharply into his bicep as your orgasm rocked your body. Fred grunted as he continued to fuck you through it, his eyes glued to you, taking in every single inch of the sexy beauty that was you, the love of his life, as you thrashed and moaned and came on his cock. It was the most perfect sight he could have imagined, and he easily ingrained into his mind forever, praying that he would never have to miss out on it - to miss out on you - ever again. 

“Yes, yes darling, so good for me, so good-” He practically choked on his own words, his voice so thick with lust that it barbed the insides of his throat. 

As he felt the last weak spasms of your pussy around his cock, he stopped rubbing your sore clit and became possessed with a new need, becoming slightly selfish now. He fucked his hips forward even harder, determined to find his own pleasure inside the sweet, soft walls of your cunt. 

“Fucking hell-” He choked out a groan, dropping his head into your neck again as you petted through his hair, encouraging him through it while he unintentionally sent sharp zaps of overstimulation through your pussy with every needy, sharp push of his hips. 

“Freddie,” You breathed out. “Come on, Daddy, cum for me. You’ve been so good to me, come on-” 

He let you another loud growl and pounded into you harder, dropping his hold on your other knee and letting your legs rest to cradle around his waist as he blindly chased his own end inside your soft, wet cunt. 

“Gonna fill you up, gonna fill you up so good,” He whispered into your neck, chanting like a man possessed, sending another unexpected wave of heat through you that made you moan weakly. “All mine, all mine, darling, all mine, gonna give you what you need, fuck-” 

He tried to silence his moans into your neck as he stiffened his back and finally came - his own orgasm hitting him like a firework. He shoved his hips forward stiffly one last time, seating his cock deeply inside of you, stuffing you full, just like he had promised. He gentled grinded his hips against yours in mindless, stuttering strokes while he pumped spurts of hot cum deep inside of you - something that made your body buzz with even more heat and made you moan in return, clutching onto him tightly with your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. 

“Oh darling, oh-” He muttered quietly against your neck as the last waves of his orgasm washed over him. 

It was so perfect, and made you feel so utterly connected to him. It was a distinct reminder of everything you had missed - his warmth, his caring, the thrill he gave you while at the same time making you feel so damn safe. 

When Fred moved to pull away from you, moving to break that connection, every instinct in your body screamed that it was wrong. You clenched your legs around him, digging a heel into his lower back to keep him close, and he let out a grunt - still dizzy from his orgasm and unsure what you were doing. But he settled back into place, creating a filthy ‘squish’ between the two of you. 

“Just hold me.” You said, having no clue when the tears had returned to your eyes, making your voice so clearly wet. “I missed you. I can’t lose you.” 

“Hey, hey shh.” He said, leaning up to kiss along your cheek, rushing to kiss away those tears. “I’m right here with you, darling. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not going to lose me.” 

He wrapped his arms around you, wiggling his grip between your back and the mattress to do so. This created the most stunning cocoon, forcing your two bodies even closer together - it wasn’t long before he became soft inside of you, but he stayed there for as long as he reasonably could, kissing along your forehead, your cheeks, your neck, uttering quiet reassurances that you weren’t going to lose him, that you wouldn’t have to miss him any longer. 

It made you incredibly content and warm. At least while it lasted. 

When Fred finally pulled out of you, you felt a deep sense of dissatisfaction and loneliness, which you tried to ignore. Especially because you weren’t sure if he would want you to sleep in his bed - which was something that you wanted very much, especially after the long day you had. But you weren’t sure if he wanted to be left alone to contemplate all of it, to be sure of his decision to take you back. 

You jumped to get out of the bed as though it were on fire, and when you looked to your rumpled clothes on the floor - your jeans still stained with dirt from when you had collapsed in the garden, your shirt likely reeking of sweat from the nerves of everything that had happened - the idea of putting those clothes back on wasn’t exactly appealing. 

Then, something else came to mind. 

“My things are in Ginny’s room…” 

You sighed, realising that if you wanted a pair of pyjamas for the night, or even a fresh pair of underwear, then you would have to waltz in and wake her up - and likely be interrogated about where you had been. She was all too knowing anyway, and any excuses you gave about spending the time caring for George or simply having a ‘talk’ with Fred would be seen right through by her. 

Fred hummed, and stood, and you were surprised when he comfortably went over to the chest of drawers against the wall at the end of his bed, going right to the top drawer. The drawer where you used to keep some of your things when you stayed with the Weasleys on holidays - and surely enough, a small collection of your things were still in there. 

Things that he had never returned to you after the break-up that you had never thought to ask for. You had no idea that he often came to this drawer, sneaking mournful whiffs of your scent - even used your shirts as a pillow case if he was feeling particularly lonely. 

He pulled out a pair of your comfortable sleep shorts and a large, soft, worn green tee shirt with a large shamrock on the front and a ‘94 on the back that he had bought for you as a souvenir from The World Cup. It had been your all time favourite sleep shirt, and you had wondered where it had disappeared to when you moved into your apartment above the Apothecary once you started the job. 

“I hope these still fit.” He said, handing you the clothes. 

“They should.” You said - quiet, careful not to acknowledge the elephant in the room. The fact that he had kept your things all this time. 

“Unfortunately I don’t have any panties for you, so…” He trailed off, a filthy grin plucking up over his cheeks once again when the implication hit the air - the fact that you would be commando underneath your clothing. 

“Yeah, very unfortunate in your eyes, I’m sure, Fred.” You huffed, turning toward the door. “I should go get cleaned up.” 

You let out a small squeak when two strong arms encircled your waist, pulling you sharply back, causing you to collide with the wonderful, bare, muscled, now slightly sweaty body. You couldn’t help but to melt into the touch, and you let out a quiet moan as he began kissing your neck - not in a particularly lustful way, but in a way that was purely loving and affectionate. 

“Don’t think you’re getting away from me that easy, darling.” He whispered in your ear. “Please, do come back afterwards. You know I like to cuddle,” 

You didn’t think that you had ever heard Fred Weasley say ‘please’ for anything so plainly in his life. But, as usual when it came to him, you wanted exactly what he wanted. 

“Only if you insist.” You joked lightly, smoothing a hand over his arm that was still tightly encircled around your middle. “I suppose I can clear some time in my very busy schedule for cuddling,” 

Fred quietly let out a ‘yes’ in celebration, and hesitantly let you go. He then collapsed back onto the bed, relaxing spread eagle, still confidently naked against the covers with his hands behind his head against the pillow. You couldn’t help it when your eyes did a once-over of his body, admiring the soft planes of his muscles that had come from hard work rather than a distinct workout routine and the beautiful bit of fat on his lower belly that made him so warm and nice to cuddle. Of course, when your eyes met his, he was smirking at you. 

“I’ll be waiting, love.” He told you with a wink. 

You rolled your eyes at this, biting your lip to suppress a smile at his somewhat deserved cockiness. 

You moved to leave the room with your newly acquired clothes, wanting to freshen up in the bathroom a bit before going to sleep (the bathroom was right across the hall, so you would have to sneak across the way naked and hope that nobody would catch you, but it should be fine at this time of night). But when your hand twisted the knob and it didn’t budge, you remembered that Fred had locked it earlier. 

He moved to grab his wand from the pocket of his pants, splayed out in the middle of the floor, but you reached for the jeans first. Your wand was still downstairs beside the cauldron that had brewed the potions for George, but often, you found that Fred’s wand worked fine for you. 

Ollivander and other wand experts said that a wizard couldn’t find the same kind of success using a wand that wasn’t their own, but you found using Fred’s to be just as natural, like an extension of your own arm. Perhaps it was because his core was a Dragon Heart’s String, and that heart beat for you just as fondly as his own did. Either way, it was a fine substitution. You unlocked the door easily and tossed the wand back to him where he was sitting on the bed, and then you snuck across the hall to clean up and get dressed. 

When you came back, Fred had crawled under the covers and was starting to fall asleep. When you crawled in alongside him, you found that he hadn’t bothered to get dressed, so you locked the door again, just in case. It was a basic charm that anybody could get through, but it would give the two of you a few minutes of warning to make yourselves decent if somebody did come knocking. 

It felt like the most wonderfully natural thing in the world to settle beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist while he slept on his back, putting your head on his chest and feeling his sleepy fingers brush across your head from behind. 

“Goodnight, love.” He whispered, so quiet as though he was afraid to break apart a beautiful daydream. 

“Goodnight, Freddie.” 

… 

You wondered if all of it had been a dream. 

Fred apologising to you, begging for your forgiveness, the two of you having amazing sex - it was something you had dreamt about many times before. It was something you had wished would come true, only to find yourself waking up alone in a cold bed. So waking up next to Fred, with his large, warm body coiled up against your back like a koala was one of the best ways you could have come into a new day. 

It wasn’t long before the smell of Molly’s cooking reached your nose - the wonderful fatty sizzle of sausages and the bready warmth of toast that told you she was frying up a full English (likely because she had been having trouble sleeping after the events of the night before). Your stomach gave a painful pang, making you want to get out of bed to eat just as much as you wanted to stay cuddled up with Fred. 

You gently petted a touch along Fred’s heavy arm that was wrapped possessively around your waist, and soon, he sucked in a sharp breath as he too began to stir. 

“Merlin, I missed this.” He said, leaning in to smother you with more of his perfect warmth as he somehow crowded tighter against your back, kissing along your clothed shoulder and up your neck once again. 

Your heart fluttered with the sweetness, the fondness of it all, and you wondered how such a hellish night had made way to such a perfect morning. 

“I wish we could stay in bed forever, Freddie, but I think your Mum is making breakfast.” You remarked, finding yourself more aware of your hunger as you woke up more, and more drawn to the delicious smells. 

“We can stay here for a bit longer.” He hummed into your neck. 

Just then - his stomach let out a loud groan of protest, and you giggled. 

“Come on, Big Daddy needs to eat too.” You said, using the nickname in a more playful, joking manner as you patted his thigh, untangling yourself from his arms as you got out of bed. 

You were surprised, and slightly victorious when you saw a slight blush tinging his pale cheeks because of the teasing, the way you had used the nickname. It was amazing to see someone like Fred go from so powerful and confident to fluttering with shyness. 

“I have to find some trousers,” He remarked, suddenly remembering that he was naked. 

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” You grinned, walking across to the bathroom, lucky to beat anybody else there before the others started waking up. 

When you hit the bottom stair, Fred was standing at the back of the couch with his back to you, now fully dressed in a pair of comfortable plaid sleep pants and an old Chudley Cannons shirt that must have belonged to Ron. (It was only because of many winding discussions about Quidditch among the boys that you hadn’t even wanted to hear that you knew the Cannons were Ron’s team and the twins hated them.) 

Fred was leaning over, clearly talking to George, who was still laying where the two of you had left him the night before. You hated that your instinct was to stand back where neither of them had seen you and listen in on their conversation - but you had only learned such matters from Mr. and Mr. Extentenable Ear themselves. 

“...well, yes, I would say that it did go well, but I would still have to classify the nature of the relationship as dubious. Or friendly at best.” Fred said in a rushed whisper. 

Your stomach gave a twist. This time you had to assume that the twins were talking about you. Talking about what had happened between the two of you the night before. 

“Dubious?” George’s voice baulked, clearly trying to stay hushed himself, but having a hard time restraining his volume due to frustration - frustration at not being able to get a better answer out of his brother. “The two of you had sex and you’re classifying the nature of the relationship as dubious? Are you an idiot or was the sex that horrible?” 

You choked down a laugh at this, not wanting to be caught just yet, and resisting the urge to speak up and clarify that the sex was, in fact, great. 

“No, she seemed perfectly satisfied, thank you very much.” Fred hissed back, full of sass. You would have said more than ‘satisfied’ - for once, Fred was actually being humble. “But I just didn’t think to stop and ask: oh, by the way, does this mean that we’re back together and you still love me? Or were just scared and lonely after almost dying and wanted a decent lay? Can you fill out a post-orgasm survey to clarify, please, and make sure to-” 

An arm came up from the couch with a pillow, smacking Fred clear in the chest - hard enough to force a small grunt out of him. George was certainly feeling better. You were glad to know that your potions had done him some good. 

“You should have just asked, you numpty!” George scolded him. “You’ve been mooning over losing her for-” 

“Y/N,” Fred cut off his twin’s words by saying your name, announcing your presence as that smack with the pillow had caused him to finally turn his head and spot you there. 

“Fred.” You grinned, not at all ashamed that you had been caught. 

You walked over to the couch, leaning over to find George grinning at you in a way that said he was holding back a barrage of stomach shaking laughter because of the conversation you had caught the two of them in. 

“For the record, I would call the sex more than satisfactory.” You said, a mischievous grin coming over your lips. “And I do still love you.” You announced, turning toward Fred. “I was lonely and scared last night, but that’s why I came to you. You’re the only person I want to go to when I feel that way. I missed you. And I want you back if you’ll have me.” 

“Merlin, of course I’ll have you.” Fred breathed out a sigh of relief, now grinning as well. “I love you more than anything, darling. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” 

“I have some idea, and it was bloody annoying.” George muttered out, only to be ignored. 

You leaned in for a kiss, naturally, but just as Fred’s lips brushed yours, George let out a loud, fake gagging sound - one that had Molly running into the room, clearly fretting and worried that George was actually ill. 

“I’m fine, Mum.” George groaned as Molly began patting down his head with a wet cloth - clearly, his night had been filled by the annoying, but loving fuss of his mother watching over him. 

“Yes, yes of course.” Molly nodded, hesitantly putting the cloth down. “It’s time for breakfast anyway - do you feel up for sitting at the table, dear?” 

“I would love to get off this bloody couch.” George groaned. 

Fred rushed around to help him up, and after a moment of struggle to his feet, you grabbed his other arm to help him along into the kitchen. 

“I suppose it all worked out for the better.” George said, smiling at you. “Even if you did end up with the less attractive twin.” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile at this.

...

A/N: This fic is a oneshot, and there will not be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. This is a capsule story meant to be read independently, and in terms of the narrative, there will not be a continuation. If you are going to leave a comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written here, do not comment asking for more. If you would like to read more of my fics, please take a look at my Harry Potter Masterlist, more specifically, my other Fred Weasley fic - Kisses Like Fire Whiskey. Thank you if you have gotten this far, and happy reading!

[emeritusemeritus]

Charming Witches [Fred Weasley]

Title: Charming Witches [Fred Weasley]

Pairing: PregnantWife!Reader x Fred Weasley, background Hermione X Ron.

Timeline: Set after canon (Fred lives!)

Summary: Ron has an embarrassing issue and unluckily for him, Fred is the only one that can help.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, babies, established relationships. Sexual references throughout. Fred has a bit of a breeding kink- shock. Just a silly little drabble I couldn’t get out of my mind. Fred is a bit mean and sarcastic to Ron.

Word count: 1.6k

"You're, you know... well, sort of, um."

"You'll get there eventually Ronald," Fred jokes with a straight face, half listening to his brother's whispered fumbles whilst he pours himself and his wife a drink, not bothering to offer his youngest brother one. If Fred had even bothered to look at Ron's face, he'd have seen he was as pink in the cheeks as a bottle of love potion, his blush so vivid that he looked ready to erupt with a face full of dragon pox any moment.

Ron clears his throat, trying again, as he casts a nervous glance around the Burrow's kitchen, checking no one was hearing this. He didn't know why he'd chosen Fred of all people to have this conversation with, in theory George would have been a much better choice but he didn't have the same 'qualifications' as his twin, seeing that you and Fred had been together for absolutely years.

"Well, umm," he freezes under Fred's quick but glance, silently telling him to spit it out. "Well you and y/n, you're in sync aren't you... Sexually?"

Whatever Fred was expecting to hear eventually tumble out of his brother's mouth was not even close to the reality and he can't stop his eyebrows from shooting halfway up his forehead instinctively in disbelief.

"Did my very pregnant wife give it away?" He snarks, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of the beer he'd poured, openly enjoying the discomfort his brother was radiating. "That might have been your first clue."

Ron somehow looks paler underneath all the blushing and Fred is revelling in his ability to make his brother squirm.

"Well, yeah I suppose," Ron mumbles, beginning to get defensive and deeply regretting opening up to the trickier twin.

"Calm down Ronald," Fred says, "you and Granger having bedroom troubles?"

"No!" Ron bites back a little too quickly but his resolve breaks under a few seconds of Fred's probing gaze, arms folded in an unconscious power stance. "Maybe."

He's quiet again for a few moments and Fred is uncharacteristically patient whilst he waits for Ron to collect his thoughts.

"How many times would you say is normal, like in a week?"

"Don't know if there's a 'normal' Ronniekins," Fred says with a shrug. "Most days and twice on a Sunday?"

Though he hides it this time, Fred revels in the look of utter horror Ron's eyes convey and it's like he can see the cogs in his brain working on overdrive, emitting smoke as they crumble and break. Evidently, his answer was light years away from what Ron had hoped for. He knows that his wife being ready to pop at any second only helps Ron believe his words and he mentally thanks Godric Gryffindor himself for the overly fortunate timing.

"Don't think it matters mate really; as long as you're both expecting about the same." This time, Fred actually thinks he's being reassuring.

"She just wants to read all the bloody time, even in bed! It's like I'm a bloody afterthought."

"Have you even met your girlfriend?"

This time it's Fred who pauses when he meets the icy glare of his younger brother. He sighs and a slightly awkward silence falls between the pair as they both try to think of how to fix whatever was going on in Ron's mind, hoping that two head were better than one.

"You two alright?"

Ron jumps out of his skin when he hears your slightly concerned greeting upon seeing the two brothers, Fred especially, in near silence.

"Don't tell me you forgot I was here," you joke to Ron, walking over to Fred as he holds out your waiting drink. "Been your sister in law for five years! Plus the bump makes me pretty memorable," you add with a smile.

"I'll say," Fred says with a wink, the cheeky glint in his eyes ever more sparkling as he looks at your bulging tummy, unashamedly ogling your pregnant form. You gently nudged him, silently telling him to be quiet but as you do so, you catch a slightly glare aimed at your husband from Ron.

"Am I interrupting? " You ask outright, sensing tension.

"No," says Fred almost immediately.

"A bit," Ron admits, cringing slightly before he lets out a loud yelp, having been smacked upside the back of the head by his older brother for his disrespect. He grumbles slightly under his breath, absently rubbing the back of his head where Fred's hand had connected to him and let's put a deep sigh.

"You're a girl," he says, averting his eyes anywhere except directly on your own.

Fred snickers at Ron's feeble and clumsy attempt at starting the conversation but opts to take a long swig of his beverage to avoid anymore laughter spilling out, though his delight still shines through his eyes.

"Only when it's not a full moon," you jest, trying to slice through the awkwardness Ron is emitting.

"Forget it, you're as bad as he is."

"Firstly I'm offended," you say, reaching out for his arm gently as you feel his begin to pull away, ignoring your husband's opposition. "Secondly, yes I'm a girl... go on."

"Well," he pauses, gathering courage, long ginger lashes covering his shy eyes that still raise no further than your ankles, "say Fred suddenly didn't want sex."

"Wouldn't happen."

"Fred shush."

"Well... say suddenly he wanted to read at nighttime over having sex."

"Again, wouldn't happen."

"Fred!" You hush him again, this time more firmly.

"How would you go about trying to, you know, fix it."

You were certain you'd never seen Ron this vividly pink in the cheeks before, he looked like he'd been decorated up to display in Umbridge's office.

"That's the problem? Hermione wants to read instead of sex?" You ask, not really seeing the big issue, but trying to say it gently so that you didn't spook him.

He nods, "but it's all the time," he adds, justifying his gripe.

"Well," you say, lowering yourself into Arthur's seat at the head of the kitchen table only a few feet away, unable to stand much longer. "Play her at her own game."

"Eh?" The brothers ask in sync, their faces scrunched into an almost identical confused expression. You simply shrug.

"Make yourself less available to her, pull back a bit," you say, taking a sip of your drink to wet your lips. "Start reading in bed just like she does, act like you're not interested in just sex."

"So I act like I'm not bothered even though I am?" He asks, still not following what you're saying.

"Sort of," you say, trying to find a better way of wording it.

"Reading's always been her favourite thing to do hasn't it? Join in on it. I'd bet on my life that she has a fantasy of you in bed shirtless reading beside her. Stop making advances, let her come to you."

"That's actually quite clever," he says after a few moments of consideration.

"It's been known."

"Shirtless?" He asks with a frown, seemingly fixating on that point.

You chuckle nodding, "well you have to still appeal to her, you don't want it to just be a study session do you?"

"Right, right," he says with a nod, a slight smile returning to his face before it dramatically falls away in an almost comedic move.

"I don't have a book."

"What do you mean you don't have a book?" Fred says in a flabbergasted manner, earning a slight but unconscious raise of your eyebrow. Though you didn't comment on the irony of his words considering you couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him so much as skim the daily prophet.

"I don't really have one," Ron mumbles quietly, "unless my quidditch annual counts."

"It doesn't," you say firmly.

"So I need a book," Ron says firmly, as if he was cementing the plan in his mind, nodding along with his thoughts until he finally makes eye contact. "Thanks y/n," he says with a smile and a nod of his head before he walks away, a bounce in his step.

"Think it's actually gonna work?" Fred asks as you pry yourself out of the chair and walk to stand next to him as you place your empty cup in the sink.

You let out a little chortle and shrug, "well if it doesn't, at least Hermione can read in peace."

Laughter bursts out of Fred and he pulls you close, bump nestled between you as he delights in your words, realising you had absolutely no idea if the plan would work.

Later that evening when everyone was preparing to leave the Burrow after another wonderful family dinner, Ron pulls you and Fred to one side before he left, away from the eyes and ears of everyone else.

"Thanks again for earlier," he says, clearly feeling more at ease about his issue. You smile warmly in reply, happy to help.

"No problem little brother," Fred beams, as if it was him that had offered any advice.

"Oi Ron," you call out quietly to get his attention as he turns to leave. With a smile, you reach down into the bag on your shoulder and pull out an item you'd gleefully searched for in Fred and George's old bedroom after the conversation. "Just incase my advice doesn't work."

Ron frowns reaching for the item you were handing him, a frown that only deepens as he reads the title of the book he was now holding. Fred's laughter is sudden and booming as his eyes land on the once familiar item that had him cracking up laughing, realising instantly what it was.

Twelve fail-safe ways to charm witches.

"Oh piss off."

Taglist part 1

@ferntv

@aigowen

@that-lame-ghoul9000

@jules-with-stars

@sleepiemocha

@seppys-return-to-madness

@wtvbabes

@the-mrs-malik-styles

@cedslover

@nisapoosworld

@dashhhhkaaa

@ghostlytv

@nerdymesss

@costheticbabe

@cliffburtonscig

@lildrunkjkk

@levylovegood

@jewelsrules

@jphxnix

@asuperconfusedgirl

@staceys-moms-thighs

@nighttimewrites

@egghasnoleg

@mel119g

@angelrioter

@minatozsana

@quinny921

@blahhh819

@comicgollum20

@moonieseyelash

@marisimps

@xslashers

@70s-chic

@shadyunknowncreation

@rockabieesstuff

@moon-2424

@chx-la

@malenk

@jimmywoosimp

@soulessfictionaddict

@twistedlaces1909

@brookiecookiez0

@nightowlgirl

@fiathefirst

@rybrewer82-blog

@cryb4by-te4rs

@rainingsky37

@learninglinesintherainn

@autumnboo126

@kpopgirlbtssvt

[lordprettyflackotara]

fill the void || fred weasley

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+

It felt odd in a way, being alone for the first time.

Usually you were surrounded by your fellow Slytherins, the smell of cigarettes and cologne something your nostrils had grown accustomed to. The sound of vicious insults or bitter rants making a nest in your ears. The sight of scowls with liquor in their hands, their knuckles typically bruised and bloody.

But right now, all of that was gone. The air in the courtyard was clean, the breeze blowing past you providing you with the smell of the earth. Your sights were centered on a giant oak tree, as well as the moon that dimly illuminated the area below. It was an odd change, your surroundings being so settled. You couldn’t help but wonder what you would’ve become if you hadn’t been placed in Slytherin. Maybe yellow would’ve suited you better.

It wasn’t that you despised your housemates, even if they were a group of misfit toys. Mattheo protected you, Theo tutored you, Draco was always glued to your side. It wasn’t them that troubled you. It was what wearing the sickening shade of green meant. Submission to the dark lord. Following the ideology of pureblood nonsense. Especially being one of the only prominent girls, there was always the lingering question who’d you marry and reproduce with.

Yuck.

“Am I interrupting?”

You didn’t need to turn around. You’d recognize a Weasley’s voice anywhere. “Unfortunately not,” You admitted. You hated to admit you knew which Weasley twin it was, a lanky Fred Weasley plopping down beside you on the concrete steps. He stretched out his long legs, mere inches separating both of you. “Is there a reason you’re perched out here instead of doing shots with your friends?” Fred asked. How could you explain why? Oh yes, I am having an existential crisis because of the fact my dress is emerald. Want to go inside and split a chocolate frog?

“Where’s your other half? Didnt think you two separated,” You quipped, brushing off his question. Fred took the hint, leaning back on his hands. “Currently snogging Angelina Johnson,” He answered. This caught your attention, your head snapping to look over at him. “The chaser that wiped the floor with Blaise last season?” You asked. Sometimes you forgot how small this dreaded University actually was. Fred nodded, shrugging. “Aggressive on and off the field, just the way George likes em,” He replied.

You snorted. “Ahh yes. Makes sense a Weasley would enjoy being slutted out,” You snickered. It was too easy of a jab. Fred began to man spread, his long legs in your personal bubble. “I wouldn’t be so hasty little serpent. A few of us know how to put a brat in their place,” He smirked. The cocky motherfucker winked, heat dashing across your cheeks. You must be in a different dimension. There’s no bloody way a Weasley made you blush. “You’re cute when you blush,” Fred praised. He couldn’t help but notice how good you looked in the moonlight, the beams highlighting your features.

“Are you complimenting me Weasley?” You questioned. You avoided his gaze, trying to ignore the fact your heart skipped a beat. “Obviously not, i’m flirting with you,” Fred replied, unable to control the smile creeping across his lips. You were just so easy to tease. “What makes you think you can flirt with me?” You asked, turning your head to look over at the ginger. He shrugged, meeting your firey gaze with ease. “Perhaps it’s because we’re in the same boat, sitting out here alone in a bloody courtyard while the yule ball is less than five hundred feet away,” Fred explained. You audibly scoffed. “Weasley’s can’t afford a boat,” You spat.

Fred chuckled at your insult, your venom harmless to him. “Considering you’re out here I think it’s safe to say your boat has sank. Guess we’re on the same island together then,” He replied. You couldn’t help but find his facial expression smug. “Great,” You grumbled. You rested your chin on your knees, contemplating your life decisions. Fred sighed. “Well, if my presence really isn’t that valued i’ll relocate,” He said. He began to rise to his feet, your body doing a one eighty. You didn’t realize your hand was gripping his wrist until it was, desperately holding him in place.

“Sit down Weasley. I-,” You paused, looking up at the ginger. “I’d prefer it if you stayed.”

Fred grinned down at you mischievously, resuming his place beside you. “Figured you’d say that. Just wanted to hear you say it,” He gloated. You slapped his arm. “You’re unbearable. You know that don’t you?” You grumbled. Fred couldn’t help but laugh. Your annoyance was adorable. “You seem to like it,” He replied. You frowned as he stood up in front of you. “Do not,” You argued.

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

Fred extended his hand in front of you. The faint sound of classical music could be heard over the stillness, the wind having faded out. “Care to dance?” He asked. The choice was standing right in front of you, demanding an answer. You could say no and continue moping on the stairs. You could say no and go back inside, all eyes on you once again. Or you could say yes, potentially having a good time with a boy you didn’t belong with. Dancing with a Weasley? Draco would have a field day with this one. But Fred’s hand never looked more appealing than it did in that moment.

Hesitantly you took his hand, allowing him to bring you to your feet. Even in heels he easily towered over you, the ginger not hesitating to bring you close to his chest. “You know you can drop the bad girl act with me, I won’t tell,” Fred said, guiding you back and forth. You were an awkward dancer, despite the endless ballroom dancing classes your parents put you through. “It’s not an act,” You argue. Fred looked down at you, his face painted like he knew you. Like he could see right through your hollow shell.

“Sure it isn’t. And i’m not the best prankster in Hogwarts,” He quipped. You slowly spun you around, giving you time to catch up as you almost tripped in your heels. “You’ve really got quite an ego, don’t you Weasley?” You asked. Fred grinned as he pulled you back close to him. “Thats a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?” He asked. You glared up at him. “I think not,” You argued. Even though your words were laced with venom, you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed his touch.

So gentle but so assertive, guiding you. Your mind strayed away, imagining him guiding you a different way. Guiding you to take his cock, to ride him until the sun came up. “Hey? Are you listening little serpent?” Fred asked, his voice coming back into frame. You blinked a few times, trying to regain your composure. “Sorry, what?” You asked. Fred slowly guided the dance to a stop, the song ending. You couldn’t help but wish it’d last forever. “I was asking what you’re thinking about,” He said.

You could feel yourself turning red, your filthy thoughts flooding to the forefront of your mind. You felt tongue tied, unable to confess your dirty fantasies. “Ohh, I see,” Fred said. You couldn’t bear to look at him in the eye, embarrassed enough to be in this position. You felt his slender fingers slide under your chin, guiding you to look up at him. You allowed him to guide you, his eyes boring into yours. You liked that, allowing him to guide you. Even if he was supposed to be bad for you, his touch put you on cloud nine.

“Do you like that? When I guide you? Take control?” Fred asked, his voice dropping an octave lower than before. You could’ve dropped to your knees in an instant. “Maybe I do,” You replied, not wanting to cave, not just yet. Fred leaned down further, pressing his lips against yours. His lips were warmer than you thought they’d be, filling the void inside of you. The void that craved approval and validation. His lips provided all of that and more. He guided you towards the giant oak tree, pinning you against it.

The sharp bark scraped at your back, a groan escaping your lips as Fred’s refused to stray from yours. You raked your hands throw his hair, pulling at the roots roughly. Fred whined into your mouth, smirking as he pulled away. “Cute,” He murmured. His eyes flickered behind you, ensuring no one was around. “As much as i’d love to make you squirm, we can’t do much here,” He whispered. You pulled him back to your lips, sliding your tongue into his mouth. You couldn’t get enough, your body craving him.

“That eager, are we?” Fred asked, pulling you back in for another kiss. You gently bit his bottom lip, pulling it towards you. “Fuck me, at the very least Weasley,” You ordered weakly, your body betraying the attempt at dominance you were spewing. Fred grinned mischievously. “Turn around for me pretty girl,” He purred. You did as asked, his large hands pushing you against the tree. You could hear the clinking of his belt, your core throbbing in anticipation.

His large hands pushed up your dress, pulling your panties to the slide. “You’re lucky we’re in the courtyard, otherwise i’d make you beg and scream for me to fuck you,” Fred purred. You felt his tip brush up and down your folds, a moan escaping your lips. One of Fred’s hands flew to your mouth. “Gotta keep quiet little serpent. Dont want anyone to hear you being a whore for a Weasley, do you?” He taunted. He pushed himself inside of you slowly, your body feeling like it may split in two.

“You’re fuckin soaked for me,” Fred mused, placing a sloppy kiss against your shoulder. Your moans were muffled by his hand, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I’m bigger than Malfoy aren’t I?” He asked teasingly as he bottomed out inside of you. You grabbed onto his wrist, yanking it away from your mouth. “In your dreams Weasley,” You spat, whimpering as he bucked his hips ever so slightly. Fred began to suck at the side of your neck, harsh enough to leave a hickey. “Dont leave marks on me,” You argued, moaning as he began to thrust into you. Fred released your neck with a pop, satisfied as the skin began to turn purple.

“Whys that? Afraid your boy toys will find out you’ve let me in between your legs?” Fred asked, beginning to pick up the pace. His pace was brutal, his hand flying back over your mouth to muffle your sinful noises. “When they ask tell them. Tell them how I ruined you. How a Gryffindor made you cum in a courtyard like a dog in heat,” Fred huffed. He continued to viciously snap his hips into yours, his cock abusing your g spot with each thrust. You moaned his name into his hand, gripping one of his wrist and the tree for support.

“You’re so fucking tight, so perfect,” Fred groaned into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He removed his hand from your mouth, his hands taking their rightful place on your hips. “I’m going to make you cum on my cock. You understand me? You’re going make a mess for me,” Fred ordered. His orders were hypnotizing, your legs beginning to shake as he held onto the fabric of your dress. You could feel the knot inside of you tighten, a familiar feeling coming.

“Please make me cum Freddie, fucking please,” You pleaded, your orgasm coming faster than you’d like to admit. Fred chuckled, fucking you mercilessly against the tree. “There she is, there’s my sweet whore. Go on, cum for me,” He panted. You squeezed his wrist tightly as you came, euphoria washing over you as you came on his shaft. Your legs trembled, threatening to give out on you at any moment. You felt Fred’s hips stutter, the ginger pulling out of you.

He guided you onto the ground, your bare knees hitting the dirt below. You stuck out your tongue, allowing Fred to cum inside of your mouth. “Holy shit,” Fred moaned, watching as you swallowed every last top. You both sat there for a moment, your highs subsiding as you soaked in what you had just done.

“Hey y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna grab a butterbeer sometime?”

“Shut up Weasley.”

[titaswrld]

seventy-six percent

description: your boyfriend hasn’t fucked you in weeks and you’re tired of it, your best friend fred helps you get laid!

paring: theodore nott x fem! reader fred weasley x reader platonic!

contains: smut! 18+, minors dni, mentions of alcohol, sex, p in v

w.c: 1.1k

|an: came up w this idea last night and i luv luv luv it! hope u guys do too.

“cmon, fred, please? it’s been weeks. i’d do it for you, you know?" you’d said to your best friend, fred weasley, during lunch. it has been weeks since your boyfriend last fucked you. you don’t know why or what’s gone wrong. but you were convinced it was some sick game he was playing. he wouldn’t encourage your sexual behaviors, nor initiate anything, and you were fed up.

although, now that you really think about it, it might’ve been your fault, considering the last pillow talk session you and theo had, you told him jokingly that you’d probably last longer than him without sex.

you lied.

you’re growing desperate. you tried to ease the ache in your lower stomach by attempting to please yourself, but it’s not the same; it’s not him. you can’t put up.

“you’re absolutely nuts if you think i’m going to purposefully make theodore nott jealous. do you want me dead? is that what this is?!” fred exclaimed with a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “you think you know a gal,” he tutted, shaking his head.

you’d pressed your lips into a thin line, reaching into your head to find something that would make fred fold. “i’ll do your homework for a week? two? brew the potions for yours and george’s pranks? "c'mon freddie, be reasonable here.” you’d said with a pout.

“how about covering the cost of my funeral?” he’d deadpanned with a slight smirk. ugh, you’d thought. i guess i’ll have to…

“fine! i’ll do yours and george’s homework for a month so you can work on products. and make sure theo doesn’t do anything rash.” you exclaimed, god, your social life is going to be over, but at least you’ll finally get some dick.

fred’s lips tugged into a wicked grin. "sounds absolutely perfect. see you tonight. pleasure doing business with you, by the way!” he yelled out to you, already walking away, to go grab george and tell him the great news.

you’d sighed, hands holding your head from faceplanting into the hardwood table. it’ll be worth it, you told yourself.

this might, hands down. be the best you’ve ever looked in your life. your low-rise jean mini skirt hugged your hips and thighs perfectly. black long sleeve fitted crop top outlining your breasts and showing just the right amount of stomach, and black knee-high boots covering your calves. you looked to die for.

you do have to admit that you are a little nervous, though. fred and theo are both very unpredictable people. you had just hoped that fred wouldn’t cross the line too much and that theo would do nothing more than drag you up to his dorm and fuck you. considering this is a slytherin party, your chances of this outcome were maybe seventy-six percent?, which is good enough for you!

after overthinking and shuffling through every possible outcome, you finally stepped out of your dorm to meet fred in the common room so you could make your way to the slytherin common room together.

fred took a bow, as if you were queen lizzie herself, and offered you a hand to lead you down the last two steps of the staircase.

“madam?” he’d said in a posh voice, causing you to let out a laugh and take his hand to walk down the last of the steps. as you reached the bottom, he dropped the act and let out a laugh.

“no, but really. you do look good. i’d say there’s a great probability you’re getting laid tonight, with my help especially.” he’d said playfully and nudged you as you both exited the common room together.

“a girl can hope!” you’d whispered, now sneaking around the hallways with him to reach the slytherin common room.

“this is ridiculous!” you whisper-yelled into fred’s ear over the loud music blaring over the common room. you both hadn’t seen theo once tonight, and you and fred have been all over each other all night. getting close, whispering in each other's ears, taking shots together, even dancing together—nothing. the party was now coming to a close, and you still haven’t seen theo.

“i know, you’d think he’d show his face by now, or kick my ass or something" fred responded with his hand placed on the small of your back to get you as close as possible to him, so he could hear you better, of course.

theo had seen everything. he leaned against the wall in front of you covered by dancing bodies. he was alone, smoking cigarette after cigarette, his hand practically crushing the cup full of alcohol he’d had since the party began. he had a sick feeling in his stomach; he couldn’t even try to take a sip of his alcohol; afraid it would give him the courage to stomp over there and beat fred weasley’s ass. he saw everything. the touches, whispers, and dancing. all of it, and now he stood over you, hand on your back, bodies pressed together, whispering into each other's ears over the loud music? that’s enough.

theo stomped his cigarette out, slammed his cup on a nearby table, and made his way over to you and fred.

“you’re coming with me,” he’d said under his breath, grabbing your arm and whisking you away from your friend. shocked, you’d said, and did nothing but let him take you upstairs. you hadn’t even gotten the chance to tell fred bye, but oh well. he’ll be just fine. he did his duty, and you’ll have to do yours too. at least it was a mission accomplished.

“fuck, theo.” you pleaded and moaned against his neck as he pounded into you at a rapid and unforgiving pace, the both of you slick with sweat as you'd been at it for hours.

“you like that? or would you rather have fred’s cock pounding into you like this? huh?” theo growled out as he pulled out, awaiting your response.

“no— no no theo baby please. just you, only you.” you’d babble, hating the feeling of emptiness he’d left you with.

theo plunged his cock back into your wet cunt, continuing his harsh pace and letting out a breathy laugh. “that’s what i thought.”

all you could manage to do was moan and tighten your grip on his shoulders as you both neared your climaxes.

you could feel your brain go absolutely numb as his pace never faltered. you’d managed to breathe out a "theo... im gonna—“

“cum, cara mia. on my cock, baby.” theo said between thrusts, his own release about to reach a close as his hips began to stutter.

“theo!” you’d screamed out as the tightness in your stomach snapped. the yell of his name that escaped your lips, pushing him over the edge as well.

god, now i have double the homework for a month. was your first post-orgasm thought..worth it. was your last as you drifted off to sleep in theos arms.

[nottsangel]

Imagine being cuddled up in the common room with Fred on a stormy night. The fire is lit, all your friends are sat around just telling stories and reminiscing on summer and all the fun things they’ve been doing recently. You and Fred have not long been together and he can’t keep his hands off of you, under the blanket this big hand is caressing your inner thigh, inching higher with each pass as you quietly whimper into his shoulder. Would he be bold enough to silently make you cum as everyone sits around the common room chatting?

OHHH BUT HE WOULD… HE WOULD… fred is the biggest tease everrrrr. he fucking loves seeing you get all shy as his hand moves higher and higher up your leg, causing him to smirk mischievously. he’d lean in, planting soft kisses on your neck as he rubs your aching clit over your already soaked underwear, whispering into your ear.

“as much as i love hearing your cute moans, you really have to keep quiet darling, or everyone will be able to hear you.”

you can practically hear him smirking before his fingers move to your dripping hole, gently slipping two fingers deep inside of you. you instantly bite your lip to suppress any moans, your teeth drawing blood while you try to maintain a pokerface as much as possible.

“so wet already, hm? such… a naughty girl.”

“fred— oh my god”

“i know, sweetheart, i know.” he coos as he curls his fingers inside of you, the tip of his digits rubbing against your sweet spot. you’re so close to coming already— so fucking close. your eyes flutter shut as you wait for him to stop. because he would, right? he wouldn’t make you cum in front of everyone… right? oh, you were so, so wrong, and you quickly realise that when your orgasm washes over you, causing you to dig your nails into his arm as your eyes roll to the back of your head. “that’s it, darling. such a good girl.”

ੈ♡˳

[kmt123whatsthetea]

The wonders of ink

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

‘Fred and George prank you by getting your clothes dirty, only to take you to the bathrooms to help you clean off’

A/N: I decided to repost (so nobody thought I was dead). I’ve been gone for so long and I feel guilty so I decided to deliver smut upon you all haha. My dear sister helped me to write this (Her Wattpad account is @Darkness_Donut. Feel free to give her a look if you’re in the Wattpad area)

T/W: Unprotected sex, The twins being kinda pervy, Groping, Double penetration

Fred and George put a lot of work into every prank.

Whether it was as simple as a ‘Hex Me’ note on Ron’s back or as sophisticated as creating a new type of chocolate that caused facial warts.

Not only did they put work into their pranks, but they also put pride into them. Each one was like their child, born and sent into the world to cause mischief. The prank they planned for you, however, was less like a prank and more like a plot for something even better than the typical annoyed scowl the pranks were usually met with.

While other students prepared for various classes and homework projects, Fred and George would stay locked in their dorm, perfecting the key catalyst for their interaction with you.

The twins were head over heels in love with you. While most people would approach you with a normal greeting and a proposition for a date, the twins needed to do more. Go big or go home was practically their motto. So when their newest creation was ready, all they had to do was wait for the perfect moment.

____________________________________________

You had been in the courtyard. Your nose stuck in the book that was cradled in your hands. So unsuspecting and sweet. The way the wind blew your hair, how your eyes were glued to the words.

George approached you, not too close that you’d notice but close enough that he could start phase one of the plan. He pulled out a small vial, the liquid inside a dark blue that stained the glass. He took a deep breath before uncorking the bottle and taking a step closer, ‘tripping’ over the tree branch and spilling the liquid over your uniform.

You squealed and moved the book aside, looking between the fresh stain and the redhead who threw it on you.

“George! What in Merlin's beard have you done?!”

George just shrugged his shoulders, putting on an apologetic look. The same look he gave his mum when she scolded him for putting a spell on Percy’s breakfast which caused the sausages to spout legs.

“I didn’t mean too, honest. I just kinda…tripped”

You did not look pleased, understandably so. George almost felt guilty but then he remembered the plan. It was all going smoothly, even if you might disagree.

“I feel awful. How about we go to the Prefects bathroom and get you cleaned up before it dries?”

With a sigh, you followed George.

The walk to the prefect's bathroom was filled with you grumbling about the stain and scolding George for not being careful. The bathroom was empty (all thanks to a little spell that temporarily made the door disappear). The baths were filled to the brim with hot water and bubbles, steam dampening the air.

Fred emerged from around one of the pillars, smirking as he looked you up and down.

“Good job, George. I knew you could get our girl here. You know, love, you should really clean up that stain. Wouldn’t want Snape taking away our hard earned points, now would you?”

George moved closer to you, his chest barely touching your back. Fred leaned against the pillar, staring at the black spot on your shirt. You crossed your arms, letting out a huff. You could practically see the burning desire in Fred’s eyes from across the room, the heat from George sneaking through the back of your shirt and warming your skin.

“You’d both like that, huh? Why don’t I just have a bath while I'm at it?”

George ignored your sarcastic tone and leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, sweetheart. We’ll get you nice and clean”.

Something about George’s soft tone caused your hands to rise to your top button, both sets of eyes glued to your fingers as they popped open the first button of many. One by one, your shirt slowly opened. The shirt had luckily (or unluckily) caught the liquid and stopped it from seeping through to your bra and skin underneath.

George helped you to slip the fabric from off your body before Fred stepped closer and took it from him. He held it up with a smirk.

“There’s nothing here, love. Maybe you just wanted to get naked for us”.

The white shirt was clean. Not a spot or stain in sight. The sight of your wide eyes and confused look made Fred chuckle. George rubbed your arms.

“Our newest prank, disappearing ink. We heard Harry talking about how his idiot muggle cousin had some so we wanted to make our own. We made it especially for you”.

Your hand darted out to snatch the fabric from Fred, smoothing your fingers over the fabric that was once stained to see if it was really gone. Both boys watched as your expression turned from confusion to shock to a mix of desire and anger. You were angry that the twins had tricked you and pulled you away from your book but you couldn’t help but feel hot at the thought that they made an ink just to get you in your bra. Maybe a reward for all their hard work wouldn’t be so bad.

George tugged on the bra clasp, his lips ghosting down your neck before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. A shiver ran up your spine at the feeling, but you didn't push him away. Fred toyed with the hem of your skirt, watching as your eyes glazed over with desperation.

“I need you both. Please make me feel good”

Fred tugged your skirt up, using his other hand to trace his fingers over the elastic of your underwear. He slowly trails your underwear down your smooth legs and helps you step out of them so your dripping folds are on display to him. As you look upon their faces, both of them lick their bottom lips in unison. George finally pulls your bra off, tossing it with your discarded shirt.

How could you look so innocent in just your skirt with your tits out? To the twins, you were like a graceful doe who wandered into the hunters' den. George practically growled as his hands groped your tits, squeezing the sensitive flesh. Your eyes closed and you let out a whimper that was sweeter than any sugary treat from Honeydukes.

Fred took the opportunity to unzip his trousers, shimmying them down enough to pull his cock out. Every noise that escaped your lips made it jerk in his hand. He stepped closer, his tip pressing snugly against your clit and leaving a splodge of precum. His hand wrapped around your thigh, tugging it up and over his hip while George held you upright. His head speared through your folds, your slick coating his shaft.

“Do you want this, love? You want me inside of you? Maybe we should see if that tight little hole can handle Georgie and I at the same time. I can feel how wet that makes you, Sweetheart. The thought of taking two cocks, we’d break that sweet pussy open”

George tugged at your earlobe with your teeth, only pulling back when a whine bubbled up from your throat.

“I think you want us to ruin you for other men”

Your voice couldn't have been more than a whisper, but it was filled with every dirty promise and beg that would only be privy to the twins’ ears.

“I want you two. I want other guys to look at me and know that I belong to you”

“Sweetheart, you already belong to us”

George moved his hand down to push his trousers down and pull his cock out, pressing it at your entrance before pulling you against him. His cock slid inside of you, your warm cunt hugging his shaft.

Fred brushed his fingertips against your clit, taking in the sight of your hole stretched around his brother's cock. It was gonna be a tight fit. He nudged at your entrance, his tip trying to find a space big enough to squeeze into. With a bit more persistence, he was pushing forward, the desperation to be buried inside of you fueling him.

You tried to stay still, trying not to squirm or clench. The stretch was so intense that you swore you could even feel the blood pumping through the veins decorating their shafts. Every pulse, every nudge felt like it would rip you in two.

When Fred’s tip finally pushed through the small opening, the squealed moan that left your lips was enough for George to press his hand to your lips to muffle any sound. As much as they loved the noises you were making, they couldn’t get suspended so close to graduating. There would always be other occasions to hear your pretty moans.

The sight was one to behold. The twins wished they could photograph your pussy stuffed with both of their cocks and frame it, only to watch the replay over and over.

An obscene squelching filled the room as they repeatedly stuffed their cocks into you. The stretch brings you closer to the edge than ever before. Your walls clenched, trying to both push their cocks out and pull them deeper. It didn't take long before you were cumming, clenching around them in a desperate need to be full of their cum.

George's hand stayed over your mouth, his lips whispering sweet praises in your ear. Fred lips were pressed against your forehead, giving chaste kisses here and there. Their groans echoed throughout the room when they felt you cum around them. You felt too good to be true. It took them 3 months to make that ink.

It was worth every single minute.

A mix of their cum flooded your insides, but there was so much that it started spilling out. But they didn't pull out just yet. With how much effort went into getting you between them, they were gonna make this last for as long as possible. It was only after they came down from their high that they noticed just how much of a mess you all made. Cum spots stained your skirt and their trousers. Fred’s chuckle caught your attention.

“Maybe we should clean you up for real this time”

[mywhisperingwords]

everyone wants him | fred g. weasley

summary: everyone wants fred weasley, why would he want you? word count: 3.2k masterlist

The Leaky Cauldron was alive with its usual chaos—laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional misplaced spell fizzling out before causing any real harm.

You sat tucked into the corner of the pub, nursing a Butterbeer that had long since gone lukewarm. Alicia had dragged you out tonight, claiming you needed to “live a little.” You weren’t entirely convinced, but there was something about her enthusiasm that made saying no impossible.

And then there was Fred Weasley.

You’d noticed him the second he walked in, though you’d never admit it. His presence was magnetic in a way you couldn’t quite explain, drawing attention without even trying. He laughed too loud, flashed that mischievous grin too easily, and had the audacity to look good doing it.

He was surrounded, of course. Angelina was at his side, rolling her eyes at something he’d said, but not enough to hide her smile. A couple of other faces hovered nearby—girls who leaned in a little too close, their laughter a little too eager.

You forced yourself to look away, focusing instead on Alicia, who was recounting some outrageous story involving a Niffler and a stolen bracelet.

“And then—are you even listening?”

You blinked, startled, and Alicia followed your gaze across the room. She smirked. “Ah. Fred Weasley.”

You frowned. “What about him?”

“You were practically drooling.”

“I was not.”

She laughed, leaning back in her chair. “Don’t bother denying it. Everyone looks at him like that at least once. It’s infuriating, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“How bloody charming he is.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. Infuriating was a good word for it.

It wasn’t until later in the night, after the crowd had thinned and Alicia had gone off to dance with some guy you didn’t recognize, that Fred approached you.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, already sliding into the chair across from you.

You glanced up, startled. “Uh, sure?”

His grin widened, and you felt an unwelcome flutter in your chest. “You’re Alicia’s friend, right? I’ve seen you around. I’m Fred.”

“I know who you are.”

“Do you?” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. “Should I be flattered or concerned?”

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to rise to the bait. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether or not you’re about to use that ridiculous charm of yours to try and get in my pants.”

He laughed—a genuine, full-bodied sound that caught you off guard. “Merlin, you’re sharp, aren’t you? I like that.”

“I wasn’t trying to be likable.”

“Even better.”

You shook your head, unsure whether to be annoyed or amused. He was persistent, you’d give him that.

“So,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Why are you here, all tucked away in the corner like some kind of mysterious enigma?”

“Mysterious enigma?”

“It’s the best I could come up with on short notice. Don’t judge me.”

This time, you couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto your face. “I didn’t want to come tonight. Alicia dragged me here.”

“Well, remind me to thank her later,” he said, his tone light but his eyes unexpectedly serious.

You hesitated, caught off guard by the shift. For a moment, you wondered if there might be more to Fred Weasley than the charming facade.

But then someone called his name—a girl, predictably—and the moment passed.

Fred glanced over his shoulder, his grin returning as he waved her off. When he turned back to you, he seemed almost reluctant.

“Duty calls,” he said, rising from his chair. “But don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

“Why would I be anything else?”

His laughter followed him as he walked away, and you were left alone, staring at your now-empty glass and wondering what, exactly, had just happened.

&

Diagon Alley was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon. The crisp autumn air carried the faint scent of roasted chestnuts from a nearby cart, mingling with the earthy smell of parchment and ink that clung to the shopfront of Flourish and Blotts. You had come to pick up a new quill, your old one having finally succumbed to overuse during a particularly tedious set of reports.

As you stepped out of the shop, quill and a small stack of books tucked under your arm, you nearly collided with someone coming in the opposite direction.

“Careful there,” came the familiar voice, low and teasing.

Fred Weasley.

You took a step back, startled, and looked up to find him grinning down at you. His hair was windswept, cheeks slightly flushed from the cold, and he had the same effortless energy that seemed to follow him everywhere.

“Do you make a habit of running into people, or am I just lucky?” he asked.

“Only the particularly unfortunate,” you replied, stepping aside to let him pass.

“Unfortunate?” He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Here I thought you’d be thrilled to see me.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t quite suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. “What are you doing here, anyway? Don’t tell me you’re in need of a good book.”

“I’ll have you know I’m an avid reader,” he said, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. “In fact, I was just about to pick up a—” He paused, glancing over your stack of books. “What’s this? ‘The Art of Brewing Potent Potions’? Didn’t take you for the potion-making type.”

You shifted the books slightly, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m not. It’s for a friend.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding solemnly. “A likely story.”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Despite yourself, you laughed—a small, involuntary sound that you quickly tried to stifle. Fred noticed, of course, and his grin softened into something warmer, more genuine.

“Well, I’d hate to keep you from your important potion-related business,” he said after a moment, stepping aside to let you pass.

“Important quill-related business, actually,” you corrected, holding up the bag in your hand.

“Ah, of course. How could I forget?”

You shook your head, already turning to leave, but his voice stopped you.

“Wait,” he said, his tone shifting slightly.

You turned back, surprised to see something uncertain flicker across his face. It was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by his usual confidence, but it left you curious.

“Let me walk you back,” he said, gesturing down the street.

You hesitated, torn between instinctively brushing him off and the strange, unfamiliar pull you felt to say yes. In the end, the latter won out.

“Alright,” you said, falling into step beside him.

The walk back was filled with the kind of aimless chatter that felt oddly natural—Fred recounting some escapade involving a rogue charm and a very unhappy house-elf, you half-listening, half-watching the way his hands moved as he spoke.

When you finally reached your door, he paused, rocking back on his heels. “Well, this is me,” you said, nodding towards the entrance.

Fred nodded, his grin returning. “Good to know. I’ll keep this in mind for next time.”

“Next time?”

“Sure,” he said, already stepping away. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

And with that, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing in the doorway with a faint smile and a strange, fluttering feeling in your chest.

&

The weeks that followed your second encounter were marked by an unexpected rhythm.

Fred had a way of showing up—not at your door like expected, but in the spaces in between. He had a knack for making himself unavoidable, though never in an overbearing way. You’d catch him at the tea shop near your office, juggling two mugs precariously in his hands and grinning at you as if it were fate. Or in the park, where he’d be charming a group of kids with conjured fireworks, his laughter echoing over the treetops.

“I swear, you’re everywhere,” you said one afternoon when you bumped into him yet again outside Flourish and Blotts.

“Or maybe you’re just not very good at avoiding me,” he replied, his grin maddeningly confident.

Despite your best efforts, the barriers you’d carefully constructed began to shift, piece by piece. It started with the smallest of gestures—him carrying your books when your arms were full, sneaking you a bag of your favorite sweets when he somehow discovered your weakness for honey drops. The conversations, too, began to stretch beyond the surface, slipping into territory you weren’t entirely comfortable with but couldn’t resist exploring.

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone,” Fred said one evening, his voice softer than usual.

You had both ended up in the same quiet corner of The Leaky Cauldron—pure coincidence, or so he claimed. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, and for once, his usual smirk was nowhere to be found.

“Why would I do that?” you asked, deflecting with a raised eyebrow.

“Because I’d like to know,” he said simply.

You hesitated, your fingers brushing the rim of your mug. The question had an intimacy to it that made you feel vulnerable, and yet, there was something about the way he looked at you—like he could see straight through the walls you kept up.

“I’m scared of not being good enough,” you blurted before you could stop yourself.

Fred blinked, surprised by your honesty, but his expression quickly softened. “Good enough for what?”

“For anything. Everything,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” he said firmly, his gaze steady. “And for the record, I think you’re more than good enough.”

The moment lingered, delicate and raw, before you cleared your throat and changed the subject. Fred let you, but the look in his eyes stayed with you long after you’d said goodnight.

As time passed, your world seemed to orbit closer to his. He found reasons to seek you out, and you found yourself looking forward to his presence, even when you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

One evening, he brought you to his joke shop after hours, proudly showing you prototypes of new products. His enthusiasm was infectious, his face lighting up as he explained the intricacies of a new line of trick wands.

“Why do I feel like you’re trying to recruit me?” you teased as he handed you one to test.

“Because I am,” he said without hesitation. “You’d be great at it. You’ve got a good eye for details, and you don’t take my nonsense too seriously.”

“Someone has to keep you grounded.”

Fred grinned. “Exactly. That’s why you’re perfect for the job.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but something warm and unspoken passed between you.

It wasn’t long before people began to notice.

The first comment came from a colleague at work, offhand and seemingly harmless. “You and Fred Weasley seem awfully friendly,” they said, their tone laced with just enough curiosity to make you feel self-conscious.

The whispers followed soon after—barely audible at first but growing louder with each passing day. Fred’s reputation preceded him, and people were quick to remind you of it.

“Everyone knows he’s a flirt. Don’t get your hopes up.”

“He’s not exactly the relationship type.”

The words wormed their way into your mind, sowing seeds of doubt. You began to notice the way people looked at you when you were with him, their gazes heavy with judgment or pity.

Fred, oblivious to the change, continued to treat you the same—warm, attentive, and maddeningly Fred. But the whispers weighed on you, and before long, you found yourself pulling back.

The first time you ignored his owl, it felt like a betrayal. The second time, it felt like self-preservation. By the third, it had become a habit.

Fred noticed, of course, though he didn’t understand.

“Have I done something wrong?” he asked one day, cornering you outside the tea shop where he’d so often ‘accidentally’ run into you.

“No,” you lied, refusing to meet his eyes.

“You’re avoiding me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

The hurt in his voice was almost too much to bear, but you held firm. The walls you’d rebuilt were sturdy now, bolstered by fear and the voices of those who’d warned you to stay away.

Fred watched you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before stepping back. “Alright,” he said quietly. “If that’s what you want.”

You told yourself it was. But as he walked away, the ache in your chest suggested otherwise.

The days after your confrontation with Fred dragged on, every hour stretching unbearably long. You told yourself you were doing the right thing, retreating before you got too close, before the inevitable heartbreak. But the certainty that had driven you to push him away began to waver in his absence.

You didn’t realize how much space Fred had occupied in your life until it was suddenly empty. The silence felt heavier now. Your tea breaks were lonely, lacking his easy laughter. Even the parks seemed duller without the sound of him enchanting children with his conjured fireworks.

Work became a refuge—a place where you could bury yourself in tasks and avoid thinking about him. But even there, his presence lingered. The bag of honey drops he’d given you sat unopened in your desk drawer. You’d thought about tossing it a dozen times, but your hand always hesitated, as though getting rid of it would make the loss of him too real.

It was during one of these long, quiet days that you overheard them.

“I heard she’s been seeing Fred Weasley,” someone said behind you in the tearoom.

Your stomach dropped, and you froze, pretending to stir sugar into your tea.

“She’s deluded if she thinks he’s serious about her,” another voice replied. “Fred Weasley doesn’t settle down. She’s just a bit of fun, like all the others.”

Their laughter echoed in your ears, sharp and grating. You forced yourself to walk out calmly, but their words stayed with you. By the time you got home, they’d grown into a roar in your mind, impossible to ignore.

He deserves better. Someone more exciting, more confident. Someone who isn’t scared of taking up space in his life.

The thoughts clawed at you as you sat at your desk, staring at the parchment in front of you.

You don’t belong in his world.

Your hand moved before you could stop it, the quill scratching out the words you thought would sever the tie cleanly. The letter was short, clinical, void of the emotions tearing through you.

“Fred, I think it’s best we go our separate ways. Thank you for everything. Take care.”

The owl flew off with it before you could change your mind, its silhouette disappearing into the night. The moment it was gone, the finality of it hit you like a curse.

You curled up in bed that night, the ache in your chest feeling like a physical weight. You told yourself it was for the best. But deep down, you started to think you’d made a mistake.

You waited for him to show up at your door, demanding answers in his usual larger-than-life way. But Fred didn’t come.

At first, you convinced yourself that his silence was proof that you were right—he wasn’t serious about you. But as the days turned into a week, the void he left behind became unbearable.

It was Alicia who finally forced you to confront it.

“You’ve been sulking for days,” she said, plopping down on your couch uninvited. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, not looking up from the book you weren’t actually reading.

Alicia snatched the book out of your hands, her sharp gaze piercing. “You don’t look like this over ‘nothing.’ Spill.”

You hesitated, but the words came spilling out anyway—the whispers, the letter, the crushing fear that you’d never be enough for someone like Fred.

When you finished, Alicia looked at you as though you’d just told her you planned to live on the moon.

“You’re an idiot,” she said bluntly.

“Thanks,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.

“I’m serious,” Alicia said, her voice softening. “Fred isn’t like that. Not with you. Do you have any idea how he lights up when he talks about you?”

Your chest tightened at her words, but you shook your head. “He’s Fred Weasley. He lights up for everyone.”

“No,” she said firmly. “Not like this. Trust me, I’ve seen him flirt a hundred times. This isn’t flirting, love. He’s serious about you. And if you can’t see that, you’re going to regret it.”

Her words haunted you that night as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. By the time morning came, you knew you couldn’t leave things as they were.

The shop was quiet when you arrived, the familiar smell of wood polish and faint smoke lingering in the air. You knocked hesitantly, and Fred appeared in the doorway moments later, his expression unreadable.

“Hey,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Fred stepped aside without a word, letting you in. The silence between you was suffocating, the usually lively space feeling oddly hollow.

You fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve, searching for the right words. “I—”

Fred cut you off. “Why are you here?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that made your chest tighten.

“I… I wanted to explain,” you said, your throat dry.

“Explain what?” he asked, his arms crossed. “Why you decided to shut me out without a real reason?”

The hurt in his voice cracked something inside you. “I was scared,” you admitted. “Of getting hurt. Of not being enough.”

Fred stared at you for a long moment, his expression softening as he stepped closer. “Why would you think that?”

“Because everyone says—”

“To hell with what everyone says,” Fred interrupted, his voice fierce. “I don’t care what they think. The only person whose opinion matters is yours.”

You swallowed hard, your voice trembling. “I didn’t know if you were serious. About me.”

Fred reached out, taking your hands in his. “I’m as serious as it gets,” he said quietly. “But I can’t make you believe that. You have to let yourself believe it.”

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, and Fred gently pulled you into his arms. His embrace was warm, steady, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d needed.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against his chest.

Fred pressed a kiss to your hair, his voice soft but certain. “You’re the only one I want.”

When you finally pulled back, his hands lingered on your face, his thumbs brushing away the last of your tears. The look in his eyes was so full of warmth and determination that you felt the last of your doubts dissolve.

When he kissed you, it wasn’t just a promise—it was a beginning.

[robynlilyblack]

But you’re over here

Fred Weasley x fem! shy! Potter! Reader

Summary: During the final game of the season, a certain redhead couldn’t care less about the trophy

Warnings/tags: swearing, friends to lovers, first kiss, getting together, mutual pining, Hufflepuff reader, potter reader, James being a good dad, Cedric being the best wing and hype man, Jess, Timothy and Joey OCs, marauders being parents

A/n: 4.4k words, ngl the alchemy plays in my head during this kiss scene, apologies for any mistakes I'm a bit ill right now, as always reader can be the bio or adopted older daughter of James and Lily, based on this and this requests ♡

Navigation | Fred Weasley Masterlist

“Oh boy, oh boy!” James claps his hands, rubbing them together in excitement as he, Lily, Remus, and Sirius reach the top of the stands 

Lily giggles at her husband's enthusiasm, following him to the front row, while Remus and Sirius brace themselves at the top, catching their breaths after a quite frankly atrocious number of stairs

Today was the big game, not only was it the old rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but it was the final, and the first year Harry was serving as captain after Oliver passed the torch to him two years ago. It was safe to say as fun as the Triwizard tournament was the previous year, quidditch was still the marauders and co’s favourite pastime. Hell, the whole school was buzzing

“Were they always that high?” Sirius whispers, rubbing his chest “Fuck me” he breathes heavily

“I think we’re just old now my love” Remus chuckles, after all these years he still can’t help but wind up his husband just a little bit

Sirius makes a face “Fuck you! I’m not old…you’re old!” he childishly argues, wearing a grumpy pout that twitches everyone once and again, revealing the smile beneath

“And when is your birthday?” 

Sirius’ mouth opens to reply but alas the man has nothing and is caught looking like a fish, though he’s a very cute fish in Remus’ mind

“We might be old…but you’re still as pretty as you were last time we were up here” Remus compliments, leaning down to peck Sirius’ tinting cheeks “Pretty boy” he whispers one last blow before pushing off the beam and joining his friends leaving Sirius flustered 

“Pads? You comin?” James calls out, head shooting over “Ohhhh” James barks a knowing laugh, whispering something to Remus and patting his back as he sits down

Sirius can’t help but let out a small smile as they turn away “He thinks I’m pretty” he mutters all giddy to himself before joining his friends, taking a seat between Remus and James, with Lily on James’ other side

“See! I told you we were smart coming early, it’s already beginning to fill up” Lily points out, smiling to herself as she shrugs off her jacket, grabbing the others as well, before laying them on the seats behind them to save room for when the McKinnon’s made their fashionably late appearance

James smiles, hand finding the top of Lily's head “That we were, hun” he agrees, patting her head and soaking up her proud little smile as she smooths out the rest of the coats

“Who are you looking for?” Remus asks, pulling James’ attention back to find Sirius squinting off into the distance

“Our goddaughter, I haven’t seen her in ages” Sirius pouts, squinting harder

“You saw her at Easter break” James chuckles 

“Oh yeah” Sirius nods, remembering “Still, I miss her” he confesses, warming the men's hearts

Sirius and Remus decided against children, not that they didn’t want them per se, more they couldn’t confirm the child's safety with Remus’ furry little problem. As such, they filled that hole with you and Harry. Sirius took an extra shine to you though, maybe it was your shy yet cheeky nature that reminded him of Remus, or maybe it’s the little bit of himself he saw in you, watching you get sorted into Hufflepuff when everyone else in your big, wonderfully weird family was Gryffindor. Whatever it was, though today was Harry’s day, he still had to make sure you were alright

“Do you want your glasses?” Remus offers, sighing as he watches his husbands sorry display and reaches for his bag

Sirius swats his hand away “I don’t need glasses moony, I’m fine. It’s just the wind, it’s blowing stuff in my eyes” he gestures around his face, scrunching his nose before attempting to subtly squint again

Remus’ eyes meet James’, shaking his head as he mouths ‘why can’t he admit defeat?’

James smirks, shrugging as he turns away, now interested in where you were, as is Lily after overhearing the debacle. The four searched for you as the student body make their way to the stands. Glancing around Remus’ spots a wild Weasley, smiling as he watches Ron attempt to hold back his blushes as Hermione fixes the red paint on his cheeks. Lily spots Neville, Ginny and Luna in another stand wearing their handmade lion mains. Sirius spots well…nothing, but your father on the other hand is the one to finally find you. 

He watches as you enter the stand diagonal to them with Cedric, Jess and two other boys he doesn’t quite recognise but based on their green scarfs must be Timothy and Joey, which would be two out of the four very few Slytherins in this world he accepted were good, the others being his best friends’ brother and the one and only Dorcas Meadows

“Found her” he points with joy “There she is, ain’t our little fawn beautiful” he shines, causing all their eyes to fall on you as you all worm your way to the front of your own stand

“It’s funny seeing them in red and gold” Remus notes, an amused look as he observes yours, Cedric, and Jess’s Gryffindor scarves, most likely stolen from your brother and his friends…or perhaps secretly gifted from one particular Weasley

Lily nods, but her head tilts to the side as your head taps the taller of the other boy's shoulders “They seem close, which one is he again, Tim or Joe?” she ponders trying to remember

“Tim, she said he was tall in the letters” James confirms “They aren’t together” he says with confidence

“And how would you know that Captain Oblivious?” Remus’ laughs, eyeing his friend but then his gaze drifts to peak at his husband, who's been unusually quiet, realising he’s still very much struggling to see you

Remus slowly collects the glasses from his bag again and holds them up in offering

“Dammit” Sirius sighs accepting the truth and putting them on, looking grumpy until his eyes widen, like he’s seeing a brand-new world

“Better love?” Remus teases while pointing you out again

“Shut up moo…aww there she is, beautiful as ever” he adjusts them smiling “Wait…whoa” he looks at James doing a double take as everything is now in high definition “You’ve aged so well” he notes

James’ smirks “Why thank you, I steal Lily’s muggles products” he admits unapologetically, not that it’s much of a surprise to the girl next to him who just rolls her eyes, accepting the fact she now buys two of every product just for him

“It’s the one with lighter hair, not Cedric, the taller one” Remus points out to Sirius

“Oh…” Sirius eyes the boy, judging “...nah”

“What do you mean nah?” everyone jumps a little at first turning around to see Marlene, Dorcas and the cutest little lion there had ever been joining them “Holy shi… sugar those specks are something” Marlene laughs, catching herself before glancing at her wife, mouthing an apology while their daughter looks up at them confused

“Suu’gar” the little cub repeats before pointing at Sirius “Specky!” she says excitedly “Unkie Jams t‘win” she claps, pointing between James and Sirius before jumping and clapping again all happy with herself

Sirius’ quickly pulls the glasses off, cheeks heating while the others struggle to hold in their giggles 

“I don’t need them” he looks straight at Marlene, trying his best to be convincing

She just gives him a ‘really’ look in return before smiling softly 

Sirius half chuckles, half sighs as he admits defeat, flashing the women a genuine smile “It’s good to see you Marls, you too Dorca darlin” he then looks down at little Lacy “Hello little cub” he coos 

“Rwah!” Lacy holds up her hands in a claw motion, doing her best lion impression 

It was well known the Marauders had one brain cell between them, but when that cell fired it was magical, all including her mothers and godmother pretended she was the most fearsome thing they’d ever beheld, even a couple other parents who had taken seats little ways down joined in. After some pleas and chocolate offered to calm the beast, the group settled in again, catching up as they waited for the game to start.

You rocked on your feet, eyes continually flicking to the players entrance in anticipation

“You good sunshine?” you feel a soft pat to the top of your head, looking up you’re greeted with Timothy's soft smile, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he checked in, worried the ruckus and busyness of the stand was a bit overwhelming for you

You gently tap your head into his shoulder, nodding “I’m good…just excited” you confess with warm cheeks as your nose is flooded with the scent of your scarf again

“Ahhhh” he elongates, giving you and then the scarf a look “Y/n and Freddie sitting in a tree” he whisper sings

Your eyes widen before you attempt a scowl that looks more like a puppy pouting “Shut up” you chide, fixing the scarf a little before looking away, hoping Cedric, Jess and Joey were having a more in depth conversion but instead you find them grinning “Sugar” you press your lips into a downturned smile

They all looked at each other before singing in unison 

“K…i…s…s…i…n…g!” 

Despite your cheeks positively flaming around the second ‘s’, you can help but break into a smile. Your friends knew about your little crush on the Weasley boy from afar. Despite your brother’s closeness with the family you didn’t have such ties, you adored Ginny on the few occasions she had visited, along with Ron and Hermione, but as for the rest of the clan your paths rarely crossed. You were meant to spend the summer with them as your families decided to holiday together, but when Cedric won the Triwizard tournament that changed, and instead, he took you and your friends traveling with the prize money 

Yours paths finally crossed at the beginning of the school year, when Sprout created a seating pattern allowing everyone to get familiar with their randomised Herbology partner before the end of year assignment. You were nervous at first, as you were sure the professor was when she pulled out your names. Putting the quietest person in Hogwarts with the loudest person seemed like it would either be the worst pairing she had ever seen or the most genius 

To her good fortune…and ego, it was the latter. It was surprising to see the king of mischief actually try with his assignments, but most chalked it up to the fact that while you were quiet, you were well-loved by your year, you held no prejudices, helped people with their assignments when the asked you, and was just in general sweet to everyone, to the point even the meanest Slytherins were a little soft on you. Therefore, most assumed Fred couldn’t bear to let you down either, and while that was true at first, a second reason soon bloomed for the boy

It bloomed for you as well, you slowly opened up to him each class, topics drifting to something deeper, and by the time Christmas rolled around you both were close friends. So close in fact you began inviting him to your friend’s secret hideaway by black lake, at first to study, but then to hang out both with and without your other friends. It was funny at first, with Cedric and Jess being rivals in quidditch and Timothy and Joey's Slytherin status, but Fred warmed to them, gaining their trust and, not that they told either of you, their blessing 

“I hate you all” you pout, falling into Cedric’s side hug as you shake your head

“Nah” Timothy joins from the other side

“You love us” Jess chimes in, beaming at you

“Not as much as she loves him though” Joey adds cheekily, nodding towards the pitch, it seems none of you had noticed the crowds stir for the players appearances during your teasing session

Cedric and Timothy quickly retract their grasp, smiling at one another as you lunge adorably forward to see. Your friends soon join you, all cheering, while you find Fred in the small mass of people, admiring him as he laughs with the others. After a few moments, the team is finished talking, beginning to take flight and get into position. Once there, you watch as Fred’s eyes begin to scan the crowd, heart thumping as his gaze slowly draws closer, skipping a beat when they fall on you, and damn near stopping as he doubles back, face lifting 

You see, a few weeks ago you had met Fred to check over your final herbology assignment, which meant a late-night picnic waiting to see if your flower would bloom under the full moon. While chatting, the topic of today's game came up. Of course, now that Hufflepuff were out for the count, he teased you with who you would be supporting, his teasing backfired however when, without missing a beat, said you would be supporting whatever team he was playing in. 

After his slight fluster, which, to this day is one of your proudest achievements, conversation returned to normal, you figured he’s forgotten about it until a first year found you this morning holding a small bundle of Gryffindor scarves, one of which had a red ribbon around it with a note for you

You bring your hands up, hugging the scarf as your eyes meet, causing the biggest smile to take over his face. It was times like this you truly believed your crush was requited, and little did you know a certain redhead was thinking the same thing

“Be brave and go for it” Cedric whispers some encouragement 

He’s right, you think, Now or never

As you mouth him ‘Good luck’, you add a little extra to it, blowing him a kiss

His eyes widen in a pleasant shock, melting into a mix of joy and pride as he pretends to catch it, winking at you before kissing his balled up fist before returning his gaze to the field just before the starting whistle blows

“Way to go gal” Jess cheers, reaching over to give your arm a soft squeeze

“Aww the grew up so fast don’t they” Timothy wipes an imaginary tear from his eye while Cedric and Jess both match his energy, taking out handkerchiefs and pretending to be forlorn mothers, with Joey doing the same but with an imaginary tissue

You giggle at them, and while you would usually try to come up with some sort of witty answer, you instead break into a smile “He likes me” you say simply, swaying side to side

“If he didn’t, he’d be an idiot love” Cedric gives you a side hug while the rest of your friends’ smile, happy for you “Now let’s what your man kick snake butt”

“Hey-” Joey and Tim begin to object together but then shrug 

“Oh, who are we kiddin” Timothy laughs, taking off his green scarf and pulling out a red and gold one as does Joey “Pusey’s an arsehole and I want a chance to be a bridesman at your wedding someday”

“Bridesman?” you giggle, heartwarming at the idea of you and Fred getting married someday

“Yip, Ceds already called man of honour” 

The match was a whirlwind of emotion, the kind of game that left everyone on the edge of their seats. Gryffindor and Slytherin were neck and neck at every turn, every goal answered by another, and it was clear to everyone that this match would come down who would catch the snitch first

“Holy shit, this is intense!” James exclaims, practically bouncing in his seat “Merlin, how the hell did you guys watch me and Marls do this back in the day?”

“Jamie…language!” Lily scolds with a giggle, lips quirking up in amusement as she gives Dorcas a please forgive us look

“Oh, don’t worry, Lacey can’t hear a thing thanks to these” Dorcas it waves off, gesturing to Lacey’s adorable, enchanted earmuffs “Watch this” she says leaning over the little girl perched on her lap “You want some ice cream, bubs? What about a unicorn?” 

Lacey doesn’t react at all, instead she stays focused on mimicking her other mothers’ gestures and waves towards the pitch

“Those are…” Lily starts but is promptly cut off 

“What the hell was that!” Marlene huffs, throwing up her hands as the crowds roar once more, a mix of cheers and groans as the Slytherins risky manoeuvre pays off leading to another goal “Fucking Pusey again!”

“Did you get the earmuffs for the crowd or for Marls?” Remus whispers to Dorcas, who struggles to hold back a smile

“Oi! Gingers! Stay in formation! Godric, what are you doing?!” Marlene shouts again, shaking her head as Fred and George narrowly avoid colliding whilst going for the same bludger

“No comment” Dorcas replies with a grin before planting a kiss on Lacey’s cheek

The match grows increasingly heated after Harry lets the snitch slip through his grasp, igniting a fire under Slytherins asses causing their play to get even more aggressive

“This game is insane!” Cedric grips the railing so tightly his knuckles turn white

“Come on, Freddie!” you yell, unable to stop yourself as he whizzes by

You watch him turn ever so slightly, catching your voice over the roar before he dives back into the action, pulling off a spectacular move that has more than one person flushing

“Offt…your man’s a beast” Timothy mutters as Fred swoops in to deflect a bludger, shirt riding up a little as he does “What? I can admire” his cheeks tint as he sees all of your raised eyebrows

“Don’t worry” you say with a laugh, “He’ll never admit it, but he has a little guy crush on you too”

“Really?” 

“Really” you confirm, giggling 

“Did you see that?!” Sirius exclaims, pointing towards Fred after he executes a spectacular mid-air spin to block the Bludger aimed at Angelina “Can’t deny the boys got style!”

“Sure does” James agrees but then his expression sinks to a smug one as he adjusts his glasses “Almost as cool as some of the moves we pulled off ay Marls?” he tries to get her attention but is gifted a passive ‘uh huh’ instead

“Oh, please” Remus argues, chuckling “Are we forgetting in our final year when you tried to do a spin like that and your glasses came flying clean off?”

“What?!” Lily, Sirius, and Dorcas all turned to him in unison

“Moony!” James protests before his face slowly sinks as if awaiting his impending doom

“Wait…” Marlene turns slowly, looking menacingly down at James “You’re telling me. I almost lost my final match as captain because of your speckyless ass?”

James hesitates, his ears turning near crimson as he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck “…no comment”

With one final push, the final whistle blows, and the crowd erupts into cheers. You and your friends join in, your eyes look over towards Fred, who’s the first to get to Harry, pulling him into the biggest bear hug. The sight makes your heart warm, but your admiration is cut short as your friends practically pick you up, ushering you to move 

“What’s happening” you ask confused

“Come on, we gotta get down their sunshine” Timothy insists, shooing you along with Cedric, Jess and Joey “You’ve got a ginger to congratulate”

Over on the other stands your family celebrates. Everyone’s on their feet, except Lacey who is now glued to Marlene’s hip as they cheer 

“Yesssss!” James roars, pulling Lily into a celebratory hug…and subsequent snog 

“That’s my godson!” Sirius bellows, fist pumping the air before looking to hug James then realises “Oh…well if that’s what we’re doing, come here moons!” he hithers towards Remus, arms outstretched 

Remus laughs softly before indulging his husband, pulling him in for a kiss before dramatically dipping him

Meanwhile Marlene and little Lacey remain oblivious to the romance in the air, as she was too busy yelling so hard her voice will be lost come tomorrow “THAT’S MY LIONS!”

Dorcas just chuckles at the scene, pulling out Lilys camera and snapping a shot of them all (A/n: art of this bit in the future?)

As their celebrations calm down, they notice the teams beginning to land and everyone else begin to make their way down to join them

“This takes me back” Remus lets out a small laugh watching the red and gold scarfs fly around

Nostalgia fills the air as the others join him, gazing down

“Man…that used to be us” James remarks, letting out a breathy laugh before glancing over at Marlene

She nods, a happy yet bittersweet smile on her face “Yeah…good times” she reminisces before looking down at Lacey “Times are still pretty good…maybe better” she confesses watching her little cub cheer 

Dorcas joins her side, arm wrapping around both Marlene and Lacy as their foreheads meet

“I think we should give them their moment” Lily suggests “We have time to embarrass them later” she giggles

The group hums in agreement. As their stand empties, they begin pointing out things only they are privy to from their vantage point. Like Nevilles and Lunas intertwined hands as they weave through the crowd with Ginny, Lee sprinting to hug George, the Slytherin team sulks, or even Snape begrudgingly handing a couple of gallons to McGonagall. None of them, however, have managed to spot you or your friends yet. 

“I hope y/ns alright in the crowds” James says softly next to Lily

“As long as she’s with her friends I have no doubt shell be alright” she hums, giving your fathers arm a squeeze 

“Oh, there she is…” Sirius points you out before chuckling to himself “…maybe being your twin ain’t so bad” he jokes, wiggling his glasses 

James laughs, wrapping an arm around Sirius as everyone turns their attention back towards you 

Down on the pitch, it’s a flurry of red and gold, so you hold back at the edge where it was quieter, encouraging your friends to head into the chaos and enjoy it. Jess, Joey and Timothy promise to be right back, while Cedric spots Cho in the crowd little ways from yourself and joins her, being careful not to drift too far from you

You beam as you take a couple of steps back, watching Harry get lifted up by Ron and Neville. Much like your parents and family above, you want Harry and Fred to have their moment in the spotlight. There would be more than enough time to talk to them after

Unbeknownst to you, one of that duo was already looking for you. Fred’s eyes scan the chaos for your figure, but finds a familiar blonde in the crowd first, and he smiles watching him kiss Cho’s cheek. Cedric feels the eyes on them, looking up and noticing Fred’s searching expression. He smiles, giving a knowing nod towards you, as does Cho who’s clearly been filled in on the situation. 

Fred’s eyes follow the direction and there you are, standing apart from the rest, your gaze locked on Harry. Taking a deep breath, he hypes himself up, realising in that moment you aren’t just wearing his scarf, but the jumper he gave you to keep warm a few weeks ago as well. That along with the kiss you blew him earlier, are all the signs he needed to finally make a move

“Oi, Freddie” George calls as he moves away from the rest of the team “Where ya going?” George tries again but to no avail, Fred’s already gone, pushing through the crowd, using his broom to help manage the masses

As he breaks free, you do a double take, and he finds himself smiling as your confused expression melts into hope and joy

“You’re supposed to be over there” you tell him, taking a few steps forward as he closes the gap

“But you’re over here” he replies simply before leaning closer, eyes searching yours for permission 

You bite your lip, giving him a nod, to which his own smile grows and his broom is abandoned as his larger hands come up to cradle your cheeks guiding them up towards his lips as they crash into your own. You clutch the front of his sweater, pulling him closer but Fred being the showman he is had other ideas. His hands drop down, snaking around your hips before he dips you back. You squeal at first, then laugh softly with him before your lips reconnect. After that the rest of the world fades away. The cheers and buzz around you becoming a distant hum, neither of you reacting to your friends’ cheers nor the flash of Jess’ camera 

Your friends aren’t the only spectators of course…

“Wait…” Marlene points towards you and Fred “…is he about to…oh!” her mouth drops open, gently covering Lacey’s eyes while Dorcas smiles in a happy shock beside her 

Remus, Sirius, Lily are next to react, eyes widening, before breaking into smiles. Remus and Sirius take a moment longer, clearly doing the ‘does he deserve her’ math in their heads first

“That’s my girl” Lilys hands come up to face, overjoyed, she had an inkling you were a little love struck from your letters, she just didn’t know with who until now

“He’s alright” Sirius begrudgingly admits while Remus nods in agreement

Their smiles and shock soon melt into anticipation as they all slowly turn towards James, who had been a bit too quiet considering the situation. But when they see him, he is…beaming?

Turns out Lily wasn’t the only one with an incline, in fact, James being the girl dad he was, has known about every crush you’ve ever had, your one on Fred being no different. Safe to say, he was ecstatic

“Yes!” he cheers “Oh the dips a nice touch, very classy” he nods in approval before looking over at the others “What?” he takes in their shocked faces

“Prongs?” Remus eyes him “You realise that’s y/n, right?” he feels the need to check

“Yeah” James shrugs before his mouth makes an ‘oh’ shape, his reply sending them into fits of laughter “I’m supposed to be mad right now, aren’t I?”

Thank you for reading ♡

[lqveharrington]

FRED WEASLEY AND ALL TOO WELL😭🫶 pleasee

All Too Well | F.W.

summary: your daughter gets curious about all the different parchment you had stored away.

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

includes: reader’s last name is Lupin, mainly fluff and angst, kissing, playful teasing, pregnancy, death, crying (this fic is practically as long as the song)

a/n: first fic of the 2k celebration! also, i cried everytime i came back to write this 😭 i miss him so much (rules for celebration here!)

It had been exactly eleven years since your beautiful baby girl Charlotte was born, Molly and Arthur Weasley's first grandchild. Born a pureblood, she would be going to Hogwarts this September and you couldn't be more proud. From all the stories Charlotte heard about your time at Hogwarts, she knew she would have the time of her life. Especially since all the stories were about you, her father, and her uncles. You would tell her all the stories of how the twins and Lee would set up pranks only to be scolded by McGonagall. Sometimes you had to scold them too.

You missed the days where you had no care in life except for your studies. You missed spending every single day with your favorite people and seeing them everyday. You missed everything Hogwarts had to offer before the war began.

But even after all the chaos it brought, your sweet girl was born. The only righteous matter to come out of the war.

"Mum, what's that?" Charlotte sat beside you on the couch and perched her head on your shoulder as she looked inside the box you brought out, beautiful red hair draping over your body.

Her gaze was drawn to the different sized parchment, each one having different drawings and dates. Charlotte picked one up and read the name, eyes widening at the signatures signed at the bottom. They were her father's and there were so many of them. "Whoa."

"What're you doing, creeper?" You laugh softly and pull her to sit in front of you, kissing the top of her head when she put the note back inside the box.

"What are all of those?” She gestured to the box and looked at you with curious eyes, fingers moving to touch the gold ring around your left hand; A habit she picked up from you whenever you felt the need to fidget. “Did dad send you all of those?”

You nod and clasp your hand around hers, feeling her pulse. "Yeah, he uhm,” You cleared your throat and blinked fast, ridding yourself of the tears that wanted to spill over. "He would write me one from the day we met until he… Your dad would even write me notes when I was just sitting next to him in class."

You pursed your lips and looked down, mind going through years and years of memories. Every time you received a new note, you wrote down the date to keep track of how long he had been doing it.

"There's so many..." Charlotte looked in awe and made out some of the dates, many of them dating back to when you were eleven. “He must have loved you a lot, mum. Especially since you kept all of them.”

You let out a chuckle, your hand reaching up to hold the gold ring adorning your necklace, thumb feeling the lettering inside. “Well, your dad was head over heels for me, Char.” You watched her pick up different parchment and smiled softly at how intrigued she was.

“Here, pick a couple and I'll tell you the stories behind them.” You hand her the box and watch her eyes light up before closing them and plucking out five pieces of parchment, handing them to you with glee.

Charlotte folded her arms over her knees, cheek resting against her arm. She watched your eyes water again at the notes she picked, making her bite her bottom lip. She didn’t want you to cry. She hated seeing you cry. Especially when it was over her father.

“Do you…” She started and met your eyes again, giving you a small smile in hopes of getting you to smile again. “Do you remember how you got all of them?”

"Of course, I do." You sent her a short grin and tucked pieces of her hair behind her ear, her brown eyes and red hair oh-so familiar to you. "I remember it all too well."

10/09/1993

“Weasley, you’re late to your own date.” You wave the parchment in his face and bite back a smile when he rolls his eyes and takes the note from you. “You said to meet you in the courtyard at exactly 3PM.”

Everyone had already left for Hogsmeade and you were left standing in the courtyard with the handmade scarf Mrs. Weasley made for you, the wind blowing it around. You weren’t actually upset with Fred, this happened more than once already, but he had time to serve with Filch whenever he pulled a stunt worse than usual.

“No, it says 3:30PM.” He tapped his wand on the parchment and sent you a lopsided grin, this time making you roll your eyes. “You look, Lupin.”

You took the note from his hands and read it out loud, giving him an exasperated look. He pulled you close by the waist, tilting his head down to meet your eyes. He loved the height difference you had with him, being a whole head shorter than him gave him lots of pun material.

“Wow, it says 3:30PM all of a sudden.” You tuck the parchment into your pocket and strain your neck to look at him. He still wore that smile you loved, making you push up on your toes to kiss him properly.

He grinned into the kiss and pressed his lips against yours multiple times until he was satisfied, adjusting the scarf you wore when he separated from you. You sigh softly and push locks of his red hair away from his eyes, meeting the beautiful brown eyes that you adored.

“Now did you actually leave on time? Or did you leave when Filch wasn’t looking?” You question him as you began the descent away from Hogwarts, careful to walk around the rocky terrain.

“I’m offended! Who do you think I am?” Fred laced his hand with yours and guided you safely around the trail to Hogsmeade, looking over yours clothes to insure you were dressed properly for the fall weather in Scotland. “Of course I left when Filch wasn’t looking.”

You smack his chest with the back of your hand and shake your head, not even a little surprised with the stunt he pulled. “Frederick Gideon Weasley.”

“What? I promised a date to the prettiest girl at Hogwarts.” He squeezed your hand before pulling you closer to him, looking around the area in confusion. “Speaking off, have you seen here? We were supposed to meet up at 3PM back at the courtyard.”

“I knew we were supposed to meet up a three, you prat!” You exclaim and smack him once more, making him laugh. He crookedly smiled, loving how you completely ignored his short jab to defend yourself about the right time you were supposed to meet.

Fred leaned down and pressed another kiss to your lips, effectively shutting you up. You let out a small noise before indulging him, placing a hand on his cheek before pulling away.

“That’s not fair.” You whisper to him, lips grazing his when you spoke. You peered down at his lips before back up to his eyes, smiling when you knew you got caught.

“Nothing’s ever fair, Lupin.” He murmured and smiled back at you, thumb softly tracing his initials into your covered hip.

You felt so much love from Fred — although it did take you years to finally agree to go on a date with him. Maybe it was to spite your dad when he began teaching at Hogwarts, but you truly loved Fred. You had known his family for far too long to ignore the heart that only beats for him.

12/25/1994

“Why is it we learned how to ballroom dance together only to ditch and sneak off to the kitchens?” You ask in a low voice, not wanting to break the calmness that fell over the both of you as you moved further and further away from the bustling Great Hall.

Your hands were laced behind your back as you walked beside Fred, letting the silence overtake after an overstimulating two hours at the Yule Ball. You weren’t even planning to go because you knew your social battery wouldn't be able to handle so many people in one room, but Fred convinced you to go with a simple heart-shaped piece of parchment.

“'Cause you needed a breather. I could see it in your eyes.” He nudged your shoulder gently before slipping his arm around your waist, letting you rest your head on his shoulder; The smell of lemon ginger cookies and firecrackers filling your senses from the suit jacket he wrapped around you earlier.

You smiled softly at his actions as he led you down toward the kitchens. He was everything you never knew you needed and it made your heart swell with so much love. You never wanted to leave his side.

Fred came to the conclusion that the elves loved you a lot more than him when you dismissed them with a bright smile. Whenever he and George visited during the midnight runs, they would always greet them. When you were with him and George, the elves would do anything you asked them to without any hesitation.

While you moved around the space to make a quick snack for the both of you, Fred simply admired you. He admired how beautiful you looked doing such a mundane task or how you would always click your heel whenever you were counting something. He was so in love that watching you just stand and cross your arms when the stove wasn't cooperating made he grin stupidly.

Before he realized what exactly he was doing, you sent him a confused look. "You haven't spoke in like—" You looked over to the wall clock, raising your brows in surprise. "Ten minutes. Are you okay?"

Fred hummed and pulled you to stand in front of him, his hands coming down to rest at the curve of your waist. “Can’t I admire how beautiful you look, Lupin?”

You squint your eyes at him and meet the brown eyes that have been staring at you for quite some time. Although he was bold most times, you saw how raw and genuine his words were.

“I mean, even without trying you just look,” Fred laced his hand with yours and slowly spun you around, breath catching when you faced him once more. He was so enamored with you — no spell was strong enough to break the enchantment. "Absolutely stunning."

You try hiding a smile that made its way onto your face, only settling into it when he moved to kiss your neck. You grasp the back of his shoulders and sigh softly, shutting your eyes briefly before he parted and smirked at your breathless look.

"I wanna marry you." Fred murmurs and thumbs your bottom lip, catching you give him your golden smile. "The only thing I want to do before I die is marry you."

You hum and rest your hands on his chest, fingers playing with his lapels. You wanted nothing more to marry the man in front of you. Every little thing he did was like painting a perfect picture, and you wanted to frame it forever and ever. He would be the only oath you were willing to take.

“Let’s dance for a little while.” He suggested as the muffled music coming from the Great Hall wandered into the kitchens, a slow song coming on at a perfect time. “There’s music and the candle light by the fridge.”

“Just us?" You ask almost like you needed the reassurance, watching him bow and take your hand like any waltz started. He clasped his hand with yours and began to take the calculated steps he learned only a few weeks ago.

“Just us.” He reassured you and snuck a kiss to your lips, earning an eye roll and lopsided grin.

Yeah, this was it for the both of you.

05/26/1996

Fred knew that you would be upset if you found out that him and George were planning on leaving Hogwarts without graduating. Especially since you were so keen on helping the both of them study for their N.E.W.T.S. He knew you wanted to graduate with him by your side, but what good would graduating from Hogwarts be if he and George had a plan that could be set in motion right now?

He was going to tell you a couple weeks ago, but you got so busy with studying for N.E.W.T.S. and ensuring you would get 'outstanding' in all subjects. So he decided to wait. Well, until you found the note he was planning to give you.

You were absolutely heartbroken. The entire day you wanted nothing to do with him, even sitting beside Angelina during potions just to avoid him. But he eventually found you sitting at the top of the astronomy tower, head resting on your knees and fingers playing with the gold necklace he got you the year before.

Guilt was eating Fred up from the inside out. Starting with his heart.

“Are you really leaving without graduating?” You murmured when you felt his body heat approach you, head still staring forward toward the forbidden forest.

Fred sighed and sat beside you, running his fingers through his hair. “The system isn’t working for us right now and—" Then he heard the sound that absolutely crushed him. He heard the hiccup that would soon become sobbing. "Lovey, what’s wrong?”

You were quick to bury your head in your arms. You knew Fred could read you like a book and anything you did now would trigger his different responses. When you sniffled, you knew it was game over.

“Okay, lovey, you're crying.” He pulled you around so that you were sitting in front of him and gently moved your arms away from your face, his own face falling at the way you look at him.

Your eyes were wet with tears, your lip was quivering, and it pained him to know he caused it. You wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, but if you tried to speak, you would completely fall apart. Everything was stressing you out and the note just pushed you over the edge.

“You know I'll be at the station when you get back.” Fred murmured and tucked your hair behind your ears, listening to your uneven breaths. "I won't leave you forever."

You hiccup and turn your head, biting your bottom lip to help stabilize yourself. "I-I just thought we would have more t-time together before everything got s-so serious outside of Hogwarts."

Fred tilted his head and tried his best to meet your eyes, "But you know that's not the case, lovey. You'll be living with Georgie and I, and you know were aren't exactly the most serious people."

You let out a wet laugh and look down, fingers coming up to play with the infinity symbol on you necklace. Fred smiled softly at your laugh. At least he knew you weren't too terribly upset over the predicament.

“If I do w-well on my N.E.W.T.S, I'll be t-training full time as a h-healer.” You hiccup and trace the symbol over itself, still trying to calm down as best as you could. “And I know you two will run your business together most of the time. So I don't—”

“Lovey, look at me." Fred pleaded and lightly cupped your cheek, tilting your head so he could face you properly. "Nothing will ever come between you and me. You were in my past, currently living in my present, and you are indefinitely my future. You are my everything and I refuse to leave this spot until you give me that golden smile I love."

Your laugh softly and give him that golden smile, "I love you, Fred Weasley."

08/14/1997

Fred proposed to you a couple of months ago. It wasn’t anything too extravagant or crazy, but you definitely cried like a baby when he got down on one knee and revealed a gorgeous gold ring you swore cost more than how much the twins made a month. Flash forward, you were having a wedding at the Burrow surrounded by family and loved ones.

After vows were said and the most passionate kiss was exchanged, you and Fred were immediately separated. He was pulled to talk to family he didn't even know were family while you were stuck plastering a fake smile to Sirius and Remus who kept going on and on about how happy they were for you.

Eventually the both of you were able to get away, running away from your own reception like you would if you were still in Hogwarts. You laughed as you both made it to the edge of the forest, resting your head on his shoulder. Although you were both only nineteen, you knew that this would be forever.

“Do you think they'll realize the bride and groom are missing from their own wedding?” You let your laughter subside and following him wherever he was guiding you. Was it such a good idea to follow him blindly? Not really, but you trusted Fred. "Where are we going?"

“You’ll see.” He moved a hand to cover your eyes and helped you maneuver through the foliage.

It felt like an hour of just walking and constantly trying to peek through his hands until he stopped abruptly, causing you to stumble over your own heeled feet. He helped stabilize you before removing his hand, letting you look at the sight in front of you.

“Tada!”

The sight was drop dead gorgeous. Almost every single note he had ever wrote to you was floating around a cleared part of the forest, small wisps of light acting as your guide to each and every date. Your eyes were filled with tears as you went up to one of the earliest notes, the date going back to the first week of your first year at Hogwarts.

“When did you ever have the time to do this?” You murmured and looked around, hand coming up to play with your golden necklace, the same one he got you forever ago.

“I have six siblings, I can get them to do my bidding.” Fred shrugged and flicked his wand, the song from the Yule Ball playing in the background. From where you would never know. “Shall we dance, Mrs. Weasley?”

"We shall." You smile brightly and clasp your hands in his, letting him guide you through the same waltz. You squealed when he spun you around and fell into his arms, both of your gold rings flashing from the light. The rings that were a promise of love and happiness.

“Thank you.” You look up at him with so much love and sigh. He was now yours forever, bound by the vows you cried to.

He looked between your eyes and tilted his head, "For what, lovey?"

"Just for being yourself. Everything that you do is just..." You find no other way to express what the feeling was, racking your brain for a word but unable to fine the proper wording. You push up on your toes and kiss him silly, pulling away just as fast. "That's what it feels like."

Fred felt warmth coat his cheeks and neck, lowering his head so he was mere millimeters away from your face. “You love me.”

“I love you, yes.” You look down at his lips before looking back up to the brown eyes you fell in love with so many years ago. "That's why I married you, dummy."

"Good thing you did too, your dad was going to kill me if I just wasted all your time. You know how hard it was to convince your dad I actually love you?" Fred complained as he dipped you, smirking when you gasped at the sudden movement. He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before pulling you back up.

You furrow your brow before breaking out in laughter as you remember the memories of him trying to get the Remus Lupin to like him. “He’s not that hard to charm, Fred!”

“Considering it took me months to even get him on board of the idea of you marrying me, I don’t believe it.” Fred kept you close, swaying to the music that was now coming to an end.

“Whatever.” You press a kiss to his jaw. “I love you either way.”

04/25/1998

The entire day you've been a wreck. The note you held in your hands felt like a weight, and you wanted to toss it to Fred as fast as possible. Your nerves were killing you, slowly making you twitchy at every movement. You weren't sure how Fred would react to the news, but when you found out, you threw up. Well, you weren't sure if that was because you were scared or if it was morning sickness.

“Georgie, has Fred gone on break yet?” You wander down into the store and pick at your nails, narrowly avoiding two kids chasing each other throughout the store.

“Ah, not yet. He’s dealing with a particularly tough customer. I’ll send him up for you once he’s done though.” George sent you a sympathetic smile and flicked his wand, watching the stairs turn to help the kids return back to their parents.

His smile soon fell into a frown when he noticed how sick you were looking. He knew that you were pregnant, but it was well past the morning and you were sitting upstairs merely working on papers.

“What’s wrong?” He asked and put an arm around your shoulder, guiding you away from the crowds so there were no stragglers to listen in on the conversation.

You purse your lips and spin the golden ring adorning your left hand, head reeling at the thought of telling Fred about the pregnancy. “I’m telling him today.”

“Oo, yeah. Can’t wait to see the look on that wanker’s face.” George chuckled and earned a punch to the arm from you, causing him to recoil and glare.

“Hey!” You scold and place a hand over the lower half of your stomach. “You can’t say that anymore, there’s a child present!”

“Aw, you’re no fun anymore now that you’re married and becoming a mother.” George stuck his tongue out at you before sending you a reassuring smile and giving you a thumbs up. “Congratulations, you can do it."

You nodded and made your way back up to the flat above the store, pacing back and forth from the living room to the kitchen. The nerves were getting worse. The note soon became overly crinkled and you swore your socks were getting tarnished by how many times you frustratedly spun around on your heel.

By the time you thought your nerves were finally settling, Fred walked in with the smile you loved. Your emotions sky rocketed and you ran into his arms, burying your head in his neck while he supported you up by the back of your thighs.

"Did you miss me already?" He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your cheek, earning a quiet 'yes' from you. "Aw, lovey."

After a few seconds of practically gluing yourself to him, you finally pulled away and pressed a proper kiss to his lips. He smiled and thumbed the skin available to him. You hum and direct him toward the couch, pulling away only to giggle when he chased your lips. He sent you a joking pout, ready to protest when you shoved the note into his hands.

"What is this?" He unfolded the paper and stared at you with so much love you felt a cavity coming in. "Turning the tables on me? I— Fucking hell."

"Fred!" You smacked his chest before meeting his brown eyes, unsure of the emotion behind them. "So?"

"So what?" His grinned and tackled you onto the couch, peppering your face in kisses. "You're pregnant! I'll be a father!"

You laugh at the feeling of his kisses, "You're not mad?"

"Godric, how could I be mad at you? You're having my child!" Fred kissed you senselessly, free hand coming down to rest on your stomach. "We're going to be parents!"

"We're going to be parents." You say to him and cup his face, letting your stored tears free fall from joy. "You and me."

"Just us." Fred wiped away your tears and sighed, resting his forehead on yours. "Us and the little one."

05/02/1998

You promised Fred you would stay home today. You promised him. But he never promised he would return home to you, causing you to rush over to the Hogwarts as soon as possible. When you arrived, the war was already won, but you didn't care. You wanted to see your husband.

“Where is he?” You ask the first person you find, sighing in relief when you see the youngest Weasley. You excused yourself and ran over to her, grasping Ginny’s arm before seeing her solemn expression, making you internally panic. “Ginny, where is your brother?”

Although you never specified, she knew exactly who you were asking for. She bit her lip and pointed to where George was kneeling, burying her head in your shoulder. You felt your heart constrict as you held her closely, breath catching at the sight in front of you. Molly was wiping her own tears when she saw you, pulling her daughter away from you so you could see Fred yourself.

“No no no no no no.” You fall to your knees and catch your breath, looking at Fred through wet eyes. A sob threatened to escape your throat when you felt for his hand, the warmth of his hand now gone and replaced with cold. You choked on tears and let yourself cry, hiding your face in his shoulder.

You begged the universe for this to be a horrible joke that everyone was in on. That Fred was okay and well, only pretending to be dead.

"Freddie, please." You cry and clutch his hand tighter, feeling for the gold band that represented your everlasting love. "I need you to wake up, Weasley. I-I can't do this without you. How am I s-supposed to—" You choked on your words, sobbing once more. You couldn't even finish your sentences.

When you felt a pair of arms pull you away from Fred, reality hit you like a train wreck. You stumbled over your feet as you stared at his dead body. Fred Weasley was really gone.

"What happened?" You whisper and stare at Fred, tears still falling. You felt so helpless. You were a healer and there was nothing you could do. When no one answered you, you whipped around and stared at whoever carried you away, another sob threatening to spill over when you saw George. "What happened, George?"

“There was an explosion.” He whispered and pulled you into a hug, letting you cry for a second. He had his last moment with Fred, but you hadn't seen him in hours.

You sobbed and collapsed in his arms, cries ringing out into the Great Hall. The pain you felt was nothing like you ever experienced before. You did everything you could do try and deny it, but no matter what you thought of, the sight of his dead body seemed to appear.

“George, why are we at Hogwarts?” You huff and follow him into a restricted room.

You weren't even supposed to be at Hogwarts and somehow you were standing on the very grounds your heart shattered. Your daughter just started a few weeks ago, but George somehow convinced you to return and dragged you to a room you've never seen before.

George glanced down at you, noticing your distant gaze, like you weren't safe inside the building anymore. “Have you been to Hogwarts since the war?”

“No.” You purse your lips and push the thought of the war away, brows creasing when you see how clean and furbished the room was. “Why? I need to get going soon. My shift—"

“Just look.” He pointed toward one side of the room, revealing the little contents of the room.

You frowned when you looked over. There was nothing of interest. “I can see the Mirror of Erised and a covered portrait.”

“Pull the bloody cover off.” George rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, shaking his head when you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Okay, but I’m not looking at the mirror.” You sighed and covered your eyes when passing the mirror. When you stood in front of the portrait, you pulled the cover off and gave George an annoyed smile. “I don’t understand—" When he gestured for you to look back over, you rolled your eyes before gasping, dropping the cloth without realizing a piece of parchment was attached to the front of it. "Oh my, Fred Weasley.”

“Hi, lovey.” Fred winked at you, wearing that smirk you haven't seen in years. When he saw tears falling from your face, he frowned and seemingly reached out to you. “Why are you crying? Did George upset you?”

“No, in fact he made me happy.” You spoke through tears and wiped your tears, smiling sadly. “I get to see you again.”

Fred grinned again and clapped his hands. “It’s been forever since I saw you last, Lupin. Where were you?”

You furrow your brows and look at George in confusion. “Does he—?” George shook his head and handed you the parchment that fell. You quickly peeled it open and wiped your tears once more as you read the contents. "He made it for a prank he never committed to." You huff and shake your head before responding to Fred. “I’ve been out and about, Weasley.”

He tilted his head and scanned your figure up and down, confusion written all over his face. “It seems as if we have a predicament here.”

“And what is that?” You murmur and step closer to the portrait, not realizing George had left you alone to have a moment with Fred.

“I want to hug you, but the best I can do is talk.” Fred sent you a lopsided grin and blew a kiss at you, making you laugh.

“Seems like a big problem.” You nod in agreement and sigh, wrapping your arms around your midsection. “I’ll understand what you mean.”

“In that case, I’m giving you the biggest hug right now.” Fred spread his arms wide and pretended to give you a hug before his eyes caught the gold ring around your left hand. “Where’d you get the ring, lovey?”

“Uhm…” You look down and spin the ring, smiling down at the piece of jewelry. “I got it from you a bit ago.”

Fred beamed in joy before he flattened again, looking around like he could see past the frame. “Where am I?”

“Home.” You muster a smile and wipe a tear that managed to escape, hands shaking. “You’re at home with your mum and dad. Don’t worry though, they wanted to actually hang out with you.”

Fred scoffed and shook his head, “Still rude as ever, Lupin.”

“Not as bad as you, Weasley.” You laugh softly and hold back anymore tears, hands finding Fred’s adjacent ring hanging around your neck. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms