#fred Weasley drabble

[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.”

ੈ♡˳

[rottenherbs]

Off the Pitch // F.W x Potter!reader

Request: Hi, I was wondering if I could ask for a Fred Weasley x Potter!reader where she has a crush on him but is too afraid to say anything because they have been friends since first year but after they win the quidditch cup (she's in the team too) he kisses her in the middle of the pitch and then he confesses his feelings for her and the go on a date and he prepares something special to ask her out?

Word Count: 1.5k

Authors Note: honestly the Potter! Sister mention is super lowkey in this! Mainly fluff between reader and Fred :) I honestly adore writing quidditch scenes. Like the action ugh yes please

[masterlist]

Much Love, Saige

———————

The air was freezing and nipping at any exposed skin you had, but all you could truly feel was nerves. Nerves for the last game of the season, nerves for your brother, nerves being around… him. Your mind was distracted and you had to clear your head — and fast.

The sound of the whistle broke you from your trance, the game had officially begun. The conglomerate of brooms whipped around, loud hollers of commands filled the air from your team attempting to communicate across the field. Your position of keeper was simple, stay put and defend. You were quick on your broom, able to see the rivals flying across in any attempt to score a goal.

Keeping your head down, your eyes flickered across the field, most of the action now happening on the slytherin side. Your attention flickered around the students, landing quickly on Fred and bouncing off. You understood how important this game was, but you fought your mind and heart, trying not to be too distracted. In a snap, the game switched, a goal being scored in Gryffindor favor, the slytherins now playing rougher.

You gripped your broom, tensing your body in anticipation seeing a slytherin chaser make its way through the crowd. Furrowing your brow you easily flew around the posts, catching the quaffle mid air. From just out of view, Fred’s arm raised in a fist, a large smile across his face.

“YES! Y/N YES!” He yelled, shooting you a thumbs up, flying away quickly. You bit your lip, tossing the ball back to Alicia Spinnet, allowing her to race across the field and score another goal.

The game went for almost an hour, an endless fight between the rival houses; the air was tense. Slytherin was leading the championship by 200 points, everyone understood that you needed at least 210 to win the cup. Unfortunately the energies were getting out of hand, several penalties being given to the Gryffindor team. Marcus Flint, the slytherin chaser, crashed purposefully into Angelina which resulted in Fred throwing his bat into his head, sending Flint to the ground with a bloody nose. The slytherin beater also hit Alicia with their club and George elbowed them in the face. It wasn't pretty.

You couldn’t remember a game that had gone this rough since the beginning of the year when Hufflepuff beat Gryffindor, but hey… there were dementors in attendance.

As the crowd got to their feet, you felt the energy shift in the field. Malfoy had sight of the snitch, Harry now side to side with him, both of them blundering against each other's bodies. They held their hands out, extending them as far as they could. To your amazement, Harry’s hand quickly snatched the golden orb, plummeting to the ground — Lee Jordans voice boomed across the field, halting all athletes in their place.

“Potter has secured the Snitch!! The Cup goes to GRYFFINDOR!”

A full sense of relief rushes over your body, calming your breath watching your brother make his triumphant return to the field. Letting out a yell of excitement, you flew back down to the pitch. The feeling of the hard ground was peaceful to you, the relief of gravity made your shoulders slump, a lazy smile across your face.

Your arms and legs ache from holding the broom as tight as you did, a bittersweet feeling knowing that the school year really was over, the final game of the year won in your hands. Dropping your broom, you rushed over to Harry attempting to give him a hug and quick congratulations before he was swept into the air onto Wood's shoulders. You admired him from afar, relishing in the happiness oozing out of his body. The love you felt for your brother was eternal.

“I bet you're proud of him huh.” Fred appeared next to you, breaking your trance. You glanced over at him for only a moment, looking back at your brother; the field was now being rushed by the students in the stands. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his jaw rhythmically chewing a piece of gum. The sight was like no other.

“More than he could ever know.” You mumbled, shaking your head lighty. Looking up at Fred, he smiled down at you, something twinkling behind his eyes. “You did really great out there.” You added, noticing a small bruise forming just under his right eye. You reached up, brushing it lighty. He winced, but relaxed at your touch. He felt his chest tense as you touched him, surprised by your gesture.

Clearing his throat, he attempted to save face, not wanting to show how much pain he was in -

“Eh, I'm alright, just the name of the game eh?”

He lightly tilted his head into your hand, now cupping his cheek. You both looked into eachothers eyes for a moment, the feeling of his skin to yours warm. You couldn't tell if your heart was racing from the game or this moment.

“You did great out there too” Fred whispered, “You’re always great.”

He smiled softly at you, not removing his head from your hand. A deep blush creeped across your cheeks, your thumb lightly brushing against his cheek, the moment so intimate, so romantic. You both stood exhausted, exhilarated, and slightly battered.

A minute passed before Fred leaned in, silently asking for your permission, his eyes darting between yours and your lips. You were close enough to notice the little indentations on his forehead, his nose had a scar you’ve never seen before, his basking breath hot yet minty.

Taking a deep breath in, you quickly closed the gap, his hands rushing up to your neck, his fingers intertwined in your hair. Luckily most of the students were too interested in celebrating to notice you two.

The kiss lasted only for a few seconds, both of you holding onto each other for dear life. Breaking the seal, Fred leaned back admiring your expression, your closed eyes, your lips reddened from the friction. Looking awkwardly to the side, you covered your mouth with your hand stifling a laugh, leaning your forehead on his chest.

“I swear it's been 5 years since I dreamed of doing that.” He mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You scoffed, still enthralled by the kiss.

“Oh come off it, its true!” Fred boasts, his voice now trailing above the crowd. “The prettiest girl on the quidditch team, smartest girl in our grade. I KISSED HER!” He adds, tipping your chin up to face him. “Don't tell me it’s all in my head” he laughs, looking deeply into your eyes.

“Oh Fred.” You whisper, grabbing his wrists, pulling yourself up to kiss him again. This time you heard celebrations around you, the sound of George now surrounding you.

“OY! Finally! You owe me 7 galleons.” Breaking the kiss, you both looked over to George nudging Lee Jordan, the biggest smirk across his face. Lee rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Fred scoffed, laughing pulling you away from the crowd. Looking back you made eye contact with George, his eyebrows wagging at you both.

You turned the corner, his hand still enveloped in yours. He leaned against the large changing room, both of you now out of sight of the crowd. He laughed, his head leaning back, his jawline protruding slightly, still chewing the gum. He takes one look at you, turning away smiling.

“I’m serious though, I just.” He winced slightly, finding the words. “I just didn’t want to ruin this” gesturing lightly between you. “You meant so much to me. Our friendship.” You listened intently, the words resonating deeply. You didn’t realize how much he felt the same about as you did him.

“I was too scared to lose you.” You whispered, leaning back into his arms. He held you tightly, his head resting on top of yours. “It feels like a dream.” You mumbled lightly into his chest.

“You dreamt about my gross sweaty arms holding you in the freezing cold?” Fred laughed, lightening the mood. You scoffed in his chest, suddenly remembering all the dreams you have had about Fred.

“Yeah yeah yeah. Believe what you want” You laughed, nudging his stomach.

“How about after I shower, and i'm not sweaty, I take you to honeydukes. My treat.” Fred whispered, rubbing your back. You nodded back, smiling deeply into his uniform.

“Yeah that would be nice”

[nottswitch]

number 4 and fred weasley (smut is okay) <33

hey baby, thanks for sending a request 💘 this one turned out sooo perfect, i absolutely love it!! your aesthetic is…

— ghostcore

(revolves around ghosts, spirits, cemeteries, and the eerie feeling surrounding them)

» navigation ; masterlist ; fred m.list ; how to request ; 1k celebration

18+ smut

the old, dusty bed creaked underneath your combined weight as fred pounded you into the torn up mattress. the idea to spend the night in an abandoned mansion near the cemetery was, of course, one of the twins’ brilliant ideas, which led to you being scared of every single crunch and howl, and to fred fucking the fear out of you, like the good friend he was.

"fuck, fred-"

you were cut off by your own moan when the tip of fred’s cock hit a particularly deep spot inside of you. the sound made him lift his head from the crook of your neck, where his face was buried until now, and a chuckle escaped him at the sight of your blissed out face.

"and you said you were scared," he murmured, leaving a small, playful bite on your jawline, the action that signaled his amusement about the situation. "you can rival any ghost in here with how you’re howling, babe."

your cheeks instantly heated up, his words making you feel embarrassed about how loud you were. you trapped the inside of your cheeks between your teeth, trying to stifle your sounds, but fred wasn’t having it. his hand gripped your jaw, prying your mouth wide open. another round of high-pitched mewls broke out of there, because he increased the pace of his thrusts at the same time.

"wanna hear you, sweet girl," fred spoke against your puckered lips, tracing the tip of his tongue along the wet flesh and making it tingle. "let’s make the rumors true, hm? let everyone think this place is haunted as fuck."

with how hard his hand was cupping your jaw, you were sure your cheeks would be left indented. fred’s sweaty body was slapping against yours at a punishing pace, making the ancient bed creak even more – it was a miracle it hadn’t fallen apart yet. you desperately grasped fred’s back, undoubtedly leaving scratches up and down his skin, but it only encouraged him to thrust into you deeper and deeper. an especially loud, almost shrill cry rang through the whole house once he effortlessly threw your legs onto his shoulders and the new angle let his cock hit right at your cervix.

"shit, baby," he hissed, his breathing labored and hot on your face. "the shrieking shack won’t hold a candle to this goddamn house once i’m done with you."

the words were both a threat and a promise.

playlist

❥ after hours by the weeknd

❥ in my room by insane clown posse

❥ shrike by hozier

❥ devilish by chase atlantic

❥ sacrilegious by plvtinum

[hanasnx]

fell in love without you

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: everyone’s nineteen. WARNINGS: f!reader | you have a favorite twin | sexual content with said fave twin | dubcon kiss

FRED WEASLEY stands before you alongside his brother George. A seemingly world famous smug air about them, having charmed themselves by their own wit. Arms crossed, towering tall above the random passersby as they absentmindedly drone to their next class. Your hesitation spurs the twins on, exchanging a knowing and triumphant glance that says all as you tilt your head at them.

“Are you serious?”

One twin feigns offense. “Deadly serious.”

The other mimics him. “Gravely.”

“S’only fair, innit?”

“Game of guess the twin, guess wrong and you’ve got to give a kiss.” he repeats the game rules.

“For hurtin’ our feelin’s.” the other agrees.

You narrow your eyes with a huff through your nose. “You haven’t got any feelings. Now let me pass.” you demand, and attempt to cut through them but they’re connected at the shoulders to block your way from your corridor.

“Now that’s what you win if you guess right!” they say together. Did they rehearse this? You frown at them as you recoil, throwing your arm out to your side until your book pats the outside of your thigh.

“What? You scared? We both know you’ve got a little thing for me.” One shrugs.

“And me.” the other adds.

“We’re only helping you along.” they speak at the same time, in annoying twin-synchrony.

You give in. “Do you really think I can’t tell you apart?” Lazily, you point to the boy on the left. “Fred.” It transfers over to the boy on the right. “George.” They exchange another look amongst themselves, and adopt a crestfallen expression as their heads bow, stepping apart so you can enter. “See?” you taunt, passing them by. “Was that so hard? I’ll see you boys later—“

“Not so fast there, birdie.” You halt in your tracks at the sound of him speak. “I’m George.” You sigh hard and hang your head.

“I’m Fred. C’mon then, give us a kiss.” They’d faked you out, or they’re lying. Either way, you concede in order to satiate their egos, drawing back to the place where they wait for you. It’s only a kiss on the cheek anyway, and besides it wouldn’t reveal your true feelings towards your favored twin. You’re just friends, and that’s how it should stay. “Tha’s a good girl. Look at her comin’ back, George. She wants this just as much as we do.”

“A foolproof plan there, Fred, well done.”

“It’s practically your only pick-up line, boys. You could do far better.” you tease, and drop your satchel to the ground where it flops flat hopelessly, and toss your book to land onto the leather. “C’mon then, lean down.” They’re both much taller than you, sort of imposing if they weren’t so approachable when they wanted to be. George goes first, stooping to offer his cheek to you. Sweetly, you hook your arm around his neck for stability when you raise yourself to your toes, planting a chaste peck onto his cheek. His skin warms your nose, and he recedes as you do. When you meet Fred’s gaze, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you, and you feel yourself heat up in anticipation. He does as George did, stooping but it’s a little gentler, dragging it out. There’s a mischievous curl to his lips and you sense he plots something. So you idle while you figure him out, until he interrupts you.

“Oi, wha’s wrong with you? Go on, pay up.” and you snap out of it, doing as you did with George. Your arm hooks loose around his neck, hand splayed on the cuff of his shoulder. While you raise yourself to meet his cheek, the tips of your toes bearing your weight, and things seem to move in slow motion. An arm straps around your waist, arching you into him as he turns at the last second, drawing you into a kiss. A real one. You emit a noise of surprise as he deepens it, seizing the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips during your squeak. Out of shock, you take a fair bit of time to register, eyes flying open as you pat hard against his chest. You can’t push him off, but he pulls back after he’s made his point.

Hastily, you adjust your uniform with a gaping mouth. “Fred!” you scold while they snicker, you took notice of how George averted his eyes beforehand, so he’d known of Fred’s trick. Perhaps Fred put him up to it. Some innocent game that allows Fred an in to make a proper move on you. Or some sort of malicious advantage over your feelings. Out of embarrassment or fury, your hands pat hard on each of them, banging your fists against whatever is within reach as their laughs feather out when they flinch and try to catch your hands. When they escape, and you realize you’re desperately tardy, you have to let them go, calling out your vow of revenge after them.

“Where’s that vow of revenge now, ey?” breathless words spoken into your ear as Fred ruts into you. Hidden under the hot covers of your bed, he keeps you close with strong arms encasing you, pressing you to him as you lay on your sides. You claw the sheets for purchase, clutching onto the fabric to keep yourself grounded as he moves inside you. Careful, gentle, deliberate. Everyone’s sleeping. If anyone found out a boy snuck into your girls’ dormitory you’d be toast. His breath sends tingles up your spine, squeezing your eyes shut in the dark as you focus on where your bodies conjoin. Sticky and wet, Fred sheathes fully with a buck of his hips, and involuntarily you whimper. A large hand cups your mouth to silence you. “Keep quiet,” he whispers and you nod against him. “Didn’t take you for a bad girl, birdie, you’re a proper troublemaker.” he tells you, barely audible, his lips moving against your ear as his hips circle, welcomed by your sex, he can’t help but soak a second. “You wanna get caught, don’t you?”

You can’t answer, shaking your head against his hand and you feel his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Is that right?” he goads, unconvinced. He shifts, gradually picking up a steady pace. “Should we give ‘em a real show then?”

[desideriumwriter]

Could you write something about Hufflepuff reader studying late in the library and she realizes she has to get back to her common room before curfew. As she’s walking back Fred finds her, walks her back to her common room while flirting and talking about random things. Just something sweet and cute. Thanks love 💗💗💗

this is suchhhhh an adorable idea!! a fun one to write too! tysm for the request!! <3

wc: 1.4k

f.w. masterlist | navi

The sun was still in the sky when you entered the library to study peacefully. Various classes had slapped you with an array of tests planned this week and you felt like a bundle of nerves.

So, you chose somewhere you knew there’d be no disturbances or noise to pull your attention from your books.

The sun had completely set now, the sky outside was black. You were probably one of the only people left in the library.

It was just you, several textbooks, notes sprawled across the desk you were sitting at, and the sound of the clock ticking.

You let out a heavy breath and flipped the page of your Potions textbook. Before beginning to read over the next section, you took a look at the clock on the wall.

9:47 PM.

You had less than fifteen minutes before curfew. Maybe you could finish this next page, maybe you could start heading back to your common room.

The walk back wasn’t terribly far, but you should probably start going now if you wanted to get there before the curfew bell rang.

Rubbing your eyes and gathering your things, you quietly began on your path back to your common room.

Turning the corner down one corridor, you ended up a bit behind a tall, ginger-haired, Gryffindor boy.

It didn’t take long for him to realize you were there, he looked behind him, looked back, then did a double take.

“Merlin, you scared me. I didn’t even notice you were behind me.” He halted.

“I know you.” You stopped and narrowed your eyes at the freckled boy.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, you nodded. “Is that a good thing?” He took a few tiny slow steps towards you.

“You're the one who set off all those fireworks off on the train home last year.” You stated, Fred winced.

Maybe it wasn’t a good thing. Most kids found that end of the year prank funny, until the express was stopped for nearly an hour.

“I’m one half of it.” Fred said, tilting his head to the side. “I’ve got a brother. We er…set them off together.” He explained when he noticed your puzzled staring.

He watched nervously as your face lit up in realization.

“The twins!” You pointed, “You both tried to put your names in the Goblet the other week!”

“Oh no, you heard about that too?” He let out a nervous laugh, hoping you wouldn't see the blush seeping across his cheeks.

Fred didn’t understand why he felt so flustered, he thought the incident was hilarious himself. But you were a stranger, a pretty stranger too.

“I witnessed it.” You tried to bite back any more laughter. “You had quite a mighty beard there.”

“Reckon it was better than Dumbledore's?” He brushed his fingers through his long hair.

“I’ll say you’ll be able to pull it off when you're a hundred years old.” You shrugged. “I’m assuming you’re Fred?” You guessed as you two began to walk side by side.

“I’m George.” He lied, no matter how many times he’s done it, he’s never got tired of pretending to be his twin just to mess with people. You nodded embarrassedly and looked at the ground, a twinge of guilt suddenly hit him.

“I’m kidding. I’m not George. I don’t know why I said that.” He stammered and shook his head, “You were right the first time. I am Fred.” You glanced back at him and gave him the sweetest smile. He felt like he could melt right into the floor.

“Well then, Fred, where are you coming back from?” You lifted your chin at him in a playful manner.

“Detention with Filch.” He sighed, you grimaced.

“Uck. Did they punish you because you tried to outsmart the age line?”

“Oh no, no. Being stuck in those stiff hospital beds felt like a punishment itself.” He scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Anyways, I got caught trying to steal ingredients from Madam Pomfreys cabinets.”

“Oh?” You let out a breathy chuckle.

And what about you? Where are you coming back from

“Just the library, I have a test in Potions tomorrow. I decided I should just try and cram in whatever knowledge I could.” You cringed at the way you began to ramble. While pushing open one of the kitchen doors it was impossible to miss Freds large frame moving in front of you to hold it open for you.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to the Gryffindor tower?” You said half-jokingly as you walked into the kitchen.

“I wanted to steal a pastry from here before I went there. Shouldn’t you be getting back to yours?” He poked.

“I am, I’ve been on my way back to the basement this entire time.” You crossed your arms playfully. His smile dropped and his brows knit together.

“Basement? Your dorm is in the basement?” Fred’s face scrunched up. You just let out a small mhm and nodded, pointing to the entrance hidden behind a stack of barrels at the end of the room.

He had to tilt his head a bit to the side to see the round door hiding behind the pile of wooden barrels.

“Seems a bit crummy to put a common room down there.” Fred said flatly, yet still looking displeased at the fact your dorms would be where the dungeons also are.

“I think it’s the coziest place in the entire castle.” You shrugged; Fred let out a small noise of disagreement.

“Eh, the Gryffindor tower is the coziest. We can put Hufflepuff as a not-very-close second, yeah?” He grinned at you.

“I say you’re wrong on that.” You hummed as you tried to bite back your smile, you failed.

“Yeah? You can come see for yourself! I’ll let you have a visit and see how wrong you are!” He teased, nudging at you with a playful sparkle in his eyes. You could feel your face heat up at how his voice sounded so much flirtier than a second ago. You just prayed he wouldn’t see it. To prevent him from seeing you in your blushing state, you swiftly stepped up to the barrels.

“Er, you should probably stand back a bit.” You pointed, Freds brows knit together in confusion as he looked at the ground and back up at you.

“It…sprays you if you get the code wrong, and there's already been a few times where I’ve messed up the pattern.” You explained, Fred only nodded and took a few steps back.

You tapped the barrels in the correct rhythm and stepped back once the door began to open slowly.

From the glimpse Fred got of the Hufflepuff common room, maybe you were right. The uncountable number of plants and warm glow of the room made it look like one of the most comforting places he’s ever seen.

“It was really nice talking to you.” You told Fred as you stepped inside. “Goodnight.”

"You said you had a test in potions tomorrow, right?" Fred pipped; you stopped the door from closing with your hand.

"Yeah, we have to make a certain one by memory."

“Perfect, I've got just the thing…” He said as he dug into one of his robe pockets. “If you're not sure you made yours correctly, try and sprinkle some of this in. It’ll help.” He pulled out an extremely small sack, filled with sparkly purple powder and dropped it into your hand.

“It won’t make my cauldron explode?” You teased, knowing of him and his twins' history of blowing up the school toilets.

“No, I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.” Even with that little smile on his face, you could tell he was actually being truthful.

“Awesome, thanks.” You grinned again, looking down and beginning to move away from the door.

Fred called out your name one more time, blocking the door from closing with his foot.

“I’ll probably be back here tomorrow night, if you’d like to chat some more?” His voice had gotten so quiet, there was a hopeful glint in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’d really like that.” There you went again, with that sickeningly sweet smile. “‘Night, Fred.”

“‘Night.” Fred left the kitchen with a stomach full of fluttering butterflies and a grin on his face. He didn’t even bother to steal any pastries on the way out, he was too busy being excited for tomorrow night.

tell me what you thought!

[whimsicaldoxy]

𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 - 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

pairing: fred weasley x reader

summary: you give fred a cassette player for his (belated) birthday—and george gets a gift, too.

notes: muggleborn!reader, no use of y/n, established friendship, fluff, you and fred listen to bowie together, george likes to show up at the wrong time, this might be my fav one from my drafts

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

It was a warm afternoon when you found yourself standing on the doorstep of the Burrow, a small package clutched in your hands. The brown paper was crinkled from being wrapped hastily, but the excitement in your chest made up for the imperfect wrapping.

Everyone was gathering at the Burrow for the summer—Harry, Hermione, and of course, you.

You had been waiting for this moment since April. Fred and George’s birthdays had come and gone during the school year, and you’d had to hold off on giving Fred his gift. It was something that didn’t quite fit in the wizarding world, something Muggle-made that you knew would make him raise an eyebrow and ask questions.

You had thought about getting him something magical, of course, but that seemed too predictable. Fred, with his mischievous grin and endless energy, deserved something that was completely unexpected.

You took a deep breath and knocked on the door, listening to the sound of scurrying feet from within.

“Oi, who’s at the door?” came George’s voice from the other side.

Before you could even answer, the door swung open to reveal George standing in the doorway, a smirk on his face. “Ah, it’s you. What’s the surprise, then? Come to pull some prank on us?”

You couldn’t help but grin at George’s teasing. “No prank this time, promise,” you said, holding up the small wrapped package. “I come baring gifts.”

“Oh, a present, is it? Hope there’s something for me.” George’s eyes lit up with interest, but he quickly stepped aside, pulling the door open wider.

“There might be,” You laughed as you stepped inside, walking through the warm and winding rooms of the Burrow. The Weasley family was as lively as ever, and you loved every moment of it. You could hear Fred’s voice floating from the kitchen, his loud laugh echoing as he bantered.

“Frederick!” You called out as you entered the room.

Fred turned around, his mischievous grin spreading across his face when he saw you. “Well, well, if it isn’t my favourite birthday-present-delaying friend,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with the usual prankster gleam. “What took you so long, eh?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I had to wait until summer. I couldn’t give you this at school,” you said, holding out the small package. “It’s… a bit of a Muggle thing.”

Fred raised an eyebrow and eagerly took the gift. “A Muggle thing?” he repeated, clearly intrigued. “Wait, it’s not going to explode is it?”

You laughed. “No, nothing like that. But you’ll see.”

Fred carefully unwrapped the gift, his eyes narrowing as he uncovered the small, sleek device inside. “What in Merlin’s name is this?” he asked, turning Muggle contraption over in his hands. He looked at it with obvious confusion, but also a bit of fascination.

“It’s a portable cassette player,” you explained, a grin tugging at your lips as you tried not to laugh.

Fred blinked, staring at it now with complete confusion. “A what now?”

You laughed, taking the player from him. “It’s a Muggle device. You can play music on it anywhere.”

Fred’s eyes widened as he took the cassette player back from you, turning it over in his hands. “Wait, wait, wait. So, this plays music? Like, magically? How does it work?”

“No magic involved, actually,” you said, smiling at his bewilderment. “It’s all Muggle technology. You put in the cassette, press play, and voilà—instant music.”

Fred started pressing buttons on the player as though it might suddenly spring to life in front of him. “So… how do you get the music onto these, then? Do I have to cast some kind of spell or—”

“No spells required,” you said with a laugh. “You just record music onto the cassettes. I made you a mixtape to start you off.”

Fred paused and looked up at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “A mixtape, huh? What’s on it?”

You handed him the cassette with a smile. “A little something I thought you’d enjoy. You’ll see.”

You turned to George, who had been watching the exchange with interest.

“So,” George began, raising an eyebrow, “I take it my turn’s next?”

You grinned, having anticipated this exact reaction. “Couldn’t leave you out, could I?” you said, reaching into your tote bag.

George’s eyes lit up with mock anticipation. “Excellent. What Muggle contraption have you brought to boggle my mind and win my undying affection?”

With a flourish, you pulled out a round package from your tote bag, handing it to George. He opened the paper swiftly, revealing a smooth black sphere with a little window on one side. He held it up for all to see, furrowing his brow as he inspected it.

“Ta-da! A Magic 8-Ball!” you said.

“A Magic 8-Ball?” George repeated, his tone dripping with skepticism. “Looks more like a shiny Quaffle to me. What’s it do? Explode? Curse you with bad luck if you throw it at someone?”

“Nothing like that,” you said, holding back a laugh. “It’s a Muggle… uh, fortune-telling device. You ask it a question, shake it, and it gives you an answer.”

George stared at you, blinking. Then he threw his head back and laughed. “Wait, wait—this thing’s supposed to tell the future? Without magic?”

“Exactly,” you said, smiling wildly. “Here, give it a go.”

You handed the Magic 8-Ball to George, who turned it over in his hands, squinting at the little window on the bottom. “Right,” he said, his tone still dripping with mock seriousness. “Let’s see if this Muggle marvel can outwit a Weasley. O’ wise and mysterious ball,” he intoned, holding it up dramatically, “will my brother Fred ever stop being a complete prat?”

He shook the ball vigorously, and the little triangular answer floated into view: ‘Don’t count on it.’

Fred, who had been half-listening, looked up from his cassette player with a mock-offended gasp. “Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?”

George grinned, holding up the ball. “See? It knows you already.”

─── 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ───

The evening at the Burrow had mellowed into a warm, cozy hum. Dinner had been a chaotic affair as usual, with Mrs Weasley fussing over everyone’s plates, Mr Weasley excitedly asking you questions about the cassette player, and the twins making an endless stream of jokes. Harry and Ron had been enthralled in an intense game of Wizard’s Chess, with Hermione and Ginny supervising closely. Now, most of the family had drifted off to their own corners of the house. The living room was quiet, save for the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth, and you and Fred were sat in front of the well-worn sofa, on comfy cushions scattered on the floor.

Fred had been inspecting the cassette player all day, pressing buttons and turning it over like he expected it to sprout wings and fly. Now, he was finally ready to give your mixtape a proper listen.

“All right,” Fred said, pulling the player onto his lap and looking over at you with a mischievous grin. “Let’s see what kind of musical wizardry you’ve conjured up for me.”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Just press play, and let the magic—well, the Muggle magic—do the rest.”

Fred flipped your gifted cassette over, examining the words written in your neat, tidy handwriting.

For Fred ♡

1. STUCK IN THE MIDDLE WITH YOU - STEALERS WHEEL

2. BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY - QUEEN

3. REBEL REBEL - DAVID BOWIE

4. GO YOUR OWN WAY - FLEETWOOD MAC

5. ALL THE YOUNG DUDES - MOTT THE HOOPLE

6. RIGHT DOWN THE LINE - GERRY RAFFERTY

7. PIANO MAN - BILLY JOEL

8. HEROES - DAVID BOWIE

“They’re songs that I grew up listening to,” you said, watching Fred as he read the track list. “My Dad’s favourites, and also mine.”

Fred inserted the tape, the satisfying click of it locking into place sounding louder in the quiet room. He pressed the play button, and for a moment, there was only silence, followed by the scratchy hiss of the tape starting up.

You sit and listen to each song, taking in the lyrics, feeling the rhythm.

And as the final song began to play, Fred turned to you, his eyes locking with yours.

I, I will be king

And you, you will be queen

Without a word, he stood up, extending his hand towards you. “Come on,” he said, his voice playful. “We’ve got to dance to this one, don’t you think?”

“Dance?” You blinked, unsure if you were hearing him correctly.

He nodded, still holding out his hand, a look in his eyes that made your stomach flutter. “Yeah, why not? How can you not dance to something like this?”

You laughed, a bit hesitant but swept up in the moment. “I’m not much of a dancer,” you teased, but there was something in Fred’s gaze that made you want to join him.

“Neither am I,” Fred shot back with a wink. “But I’m sure we can manage.”

With a soft chuckle, you placed your hand in his, and he pulled you up from the cushions, and before you knew it, he had twirled you around, your laughter filling the room.

You stumbled a bit but caught yourself, Fred steadying you with a chuckle of his own. “See? We’re practically pros already,” he teased, his voice warm with amusement. “Let’s see how well you really dance.”

He pulled you in again, this time swaying slightly to the rhythm, still laughing as the song played on, the music dancing between you both. Fred moved effortlessly, his carefree nature taking over, but there was something else in the way he looked at you—a softness, a warmth. The way his eyes lingered on yours, the way he smiled as if he were seeing you in a completely new light. It wasn’t like the teasing, mischievous glances you were used to. This was… different. Nice.

And I, I’ll drink all the time

Cause we’re lovers, and that is a fact

For a moment, the world seemed to fade away. There was just you, Fred, and the music, swirling around you both like the most natural thing in the world. You felt your heart beat faster, the connection between you deepening in a way that made everything else feel distant and unimportant.

Yes, we’re lovers, and that is that

Though nothing, will keep us together

Fred leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping, suddenly more serious than before. “You know,” he began, his breath brushing against your ear, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to—”

But before he could finish, there was a loud crash from the kitchen, followed by a loud shout of, “Oi! Who broke my broomstick?” George’s voice rang through the house, cutting through the moment like a knife.

Fred groaned, pulling away and looking toward the noise with an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” he muttered, clearly annoyed at the interruption. He shot you an apologetic look.

But before you could compose yourself, in walked George, his eyes scanning the scene with a mischievous glint. “What’s going on here then?” he asked, his tone full of curiosity, his gaze flicking between you and Fred.

You immediately felt a bit flustered, fumbling for words. “Uh, nothing. We were just—well, just listening to music,” you said, your voice betraying a slight nervousness.

George raised an eyebrow, grinning knowingly. “Right, music. You sure about that? Looks like you two were dancing to me.”

You could feel your cheeks redden, but Fred jumped in before you could say anything more. “It’s nothing, George. Just messing about,” he said, his voice light but with an edge of annoyance at the interruption.

George leaned against the doorframe, still grinning. “Messing about, huh? It looked more like you two were about to start practicing for a Ball.”

Fred rolled his eyes, though there was a slight flush to his cheeks. “We weren’t doing anything like that,” he said, a little too quickly. “We were just… you know, dancing a bit. No big deal.”

George’s grin only grew wider, clearly enjoying the teasing. “No big deal, huh? Sure, sure. You two looked like you were in your own little world there. Was it a slow dance, or—?”

Fred groaned, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Merlin, George! You’ve got the worst timing. We were about to—” He stopped himself suddenly, realizing he’d almost said more than he’d intended.

You could see Fred trying to recover, but George was already on the case. “You were about to what?” George asked, his voice dripping with teasing curiosity. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging. What’s all this about dancing and moments?”

Fred let out a frustrated sigh, but the corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile. “You’re a real pain, you know that?”

George looked as if he was enjoying every second of it. “Oh, I know. Just don’t mind me. You two go ahead and finish whatever moment you were having before I showed up.”

Fred gave George a playful shove toward the kitchen. “Right, get out of here. Go break something or prank Percy or something, would you?”

George put his hands up in mock surrender, though the grin on his face remained. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you two alone. But don’t forget—I saw everything.”

With that, George turned and disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving you and Fred alone again. You both stood there for a moment, the awkwardness lingering in the air.

Fred rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes avoiding yours for a second before he looked up with that familiar grin. “Well, that went well, didn’t it?”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a smile. “Oh, absolutely. Nothing says ‘good time’ like being interrupted by your twin brother in the middle of a perfectly fine dance.”

Fred’s grin grew wider, though there was a hint of something else behind it. He looked almost… a bit sheepish. “Yeah, I was this close to telling you something,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, his eyes flicking over to you for a split second before he looked away.

You blinked, trying to hide the sudden flutter in your chest. “What were you going to say?”

Fred chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck again. “Oh, you know… nothing important.” But even as he said it, you could tell there was more to it. The way he shifted his weight and avoided your gaze said otherwise.

You frowned a little, stepping closer to him. “Fred, come on. You can’t just leave me hanging like that.”

He laughed softly, clearly torn between his usual playful nature and the moment’s strange vulnerability. “I wasn’t going to say anything, really. Just that… well, it’s nothing. Forget about it.”

You studied him, trying to read the subtle way he was acting—like he was holding something back. Something he wanted to say but couldn’t quite get out.

You had hoped, just for a moment, that Fred might finally say the thing that had been on your mind for so long—that he felt the same way you did. But now, with the silence stretching between you, you weren’t so sure.

“Fred,” you said again, this time your tone gentler. “You don’t have to pretend. If you were going to say something, I want to hear it.”

Fred hesitated for a moment, clearly conflicted.

Finally, he looked back at you, his expression softening. “It’s just…” He paused again, then sighed. “I was just going to say that… I’m glad you’re here. You know, hanging out with us. I mean, it’s not like I don’t appreciate everyone else, but…” He trailed off, looking for the right words.

You tilted your head, a soft smile forming on your lips. “But?”

Fred looked at you for a moment, the playful spark in his eyes returning. “But it’s nice having you around. I’ve always liked hanging out with you.” He paused and, as if he realized how simple that sounded, added quickly, “In case you didn’t know.”

You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I know, Fred,” you said, your heart swelling just a bit. “I’ve always liked hanging out with you, too.”

There was a brief silence between you both, one that seemed to stretch just long enough to feel like something more. Fred seemed to realize something, his eyes widening for a moment as though he’d said more than he intended. Then the tape clicked, indicating the end of the mix.

“Right, well,” he said, rubbing his neck again, his tone a little sheepish. “Guess that’s it then. I just wanted to say thanks… for everything. For the mixtape, for the dance, for being, well… you.”

You blinked, feeling your chest tighten. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Fred,” you said softly.

“Well, I guess that’s enough sentimentality for one night,” Fred said with a wink, nudging you lightly with his elbow. “Before George gets any more ideas about ‘moments,’ right?”

You laughed lightly, but a small part of you still wondered if he meant to say something more, the slightest hint of disappointment hidden behind your smile. “Right—yeah. Can’t have George getting the wrong idea, can we?”

Fred’s smile faltered for just a fraction of a second, though you almost missed it. It was gone so quickly, replaced by the same easygoing grin he always wore. “Yeah,” he said, his voice light.

You felt the unspoken words hanging between you, your chest tight with the quiet yearning. But Fred was already moving toward the kitchen, shrugging off any possibility of lingering conversation. “I’ll just go make sure he doesn’t turn the kitchen upside down,” he called over his shoulder as he left.

You’d hoped for more, for him to say the one thing that had been circling your thoughts for so long. But in that quiet moment between you two, Fred had danced around it—just as he always did.

[emeritusemeritus]

Masquerade: you can fool any friend who ever knew you. [Fred Weasley]

**This is part 2 to a request you can find HERE**

Title: Masquerade, you can fool any friend who ever knew you.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x SarcasticHufflepuff!Reader {Idiots in love}

Timeline: Non-specified/ non-canon event.

Summary: Following Hogwarts’ anniversary masquerade ball, will Fred ever find the mystery woman he’s longing for, and can you, his best friend with a light crush on him, survive it?

*Updated Warnings: Unrequited love, idiots in love, friends to lovers all the usual divine tropes. Happy ending I promise. Minor sexual references, 1 mention of masturbation, George fancies Angelina. Slight angst? We have a massive crush on Freddie. Bonus points for anyone who knows where the title is from. Kissing, love confessions. Did I just write 5k words and none of it was smut?! There’s a mention of Paedophilia in the form of a passing age related joke*

Word count: 1.8k

Thank you to my wonderful Anon who inspired this two part fic with their brilliant request. This story flowed out of me and I was unable to stop writing. Did I cry writing this? Definitely Maybe 🖤

It was mid-afternoon and you were walking from charms when you felt a paper bird fly into your shoulder, confusing you as there was virtually no one around. You'd stayed behind after class with Flitwick to go over some extra work you'd asked for to boost your grade and became throughout confused at the random paper. Opening it, you couldn't help but smile, seeing Fred awful handwriting littering the inside.

'Little Badger- My dorm, 8pm?'

You knocked on the door, waiting for his signal for you to enter and walked into the dorm with a smile on your face, pausing once you noticed that George wasn't there.

"Where George?"

"Well I'm offended," Fred says, giving you blank look, "where's bloody George, am I not good enough now? Also hello."

"Hello trouble," you say, walking over to hop onto Fred's bed, instantly lying down on the surprisingly comfy and tidy bed. You squeal as you feel him jump in beside you, the tiny beds making you think that Fred would be jumping on you but he surprises you by scooting over to allow you to just lay beside him.

"What did you want to do?" You ask, turning your head towards him.

"Hmm?" He asks, half as if he's not listening and the other half as if he doesn't understand.

"You asked me here, what have you got planned?"

"Nothing really, just wanted to see you. It's not a crime is it?" He smirks, eyes soft.

"Only if you're a paedophile," you say bluntly, watching with glee as his eyes bulge and he bursts out a laugh at the dark joke.

"Rotten woman," he mumbles, earning a half-arsed shove on the shoulder as you smile at him.

"Fancy a nap?" You say, eyes closing as you find a comfy spot on the bed.

"How old are you?" He asks tauntingly, preparing to tease you over the need for a little sleep.

You open one eye, looking straight towards him with a smirk on your face, "do you really want me to make the paedo joke again?"

His hands instantly come out to tickle your sides and you beg for mercy as you squirm, almost falling off the bed in the close quarters a few times before he relents.

"Let's go to the kitchens," he suggests.

"Or.. let's take a nap."

"Astronomy tower?"

"Orrrrr a nap?"

"Bloody hell woman how tired are you? I'm offering a romantic date with food and a view, not to mention the giant squid, and all you want to do is to sleep!"

Despite your eyes remaining closed, you'd never felt more awake at the word 'date' so casually slipping from his mouth, a fire in your tummy beginning to ignite the very thought. You try to think of something to say, anything, in reply but you can't, all words failing you completely until you bring up the one topic you didn't want to talk about.

"Not sure your mystery woman would approve," you joke, though there's no real humour in your words. Fred snorts and you open your eyes to see him frowning off into the distance.

"Given up on her already?" You say, digging a little deeper, intrigued by his curious reaction. You watch as he frowns, turning his head slowly to look at you, eyes softening slightly the longer that he stares.

"Let's go to the black lake."

"Are you going to drown me?"

"What? No," he says in concern at your words.

"Alright, lead the way then Weasley."

It's bloody freezing when you reach the edge of the lake, the wind whipping through the trees like it's trapped between the tree line and the school, making you fight off a chill.

"Here, have my robes," Fred offers, his fingers reaching for the fastening.

"No Freddie I'm fine, you'll be freezing," you say, reaching up for his hand to stop him untying it.

He pauses, your hand still resting on his as he looks into your eyes, a soft smile ghosting his face.

"You haven't called me Freddie in ages."

"Sorry," you say, averting your gaze and pulling your hand away but he stops you, grabbing your hand and holding it in his. You see how his gaze diverts to your entwined fingers but you don't say anything, opting instead to take a deep, steadying breath.

"Your hands are freezing," he observes, his fingers squeezing yours gently.

"Yours are warm," you hum in return.

Suddenly, he looks up at you again with a questioning gaze, like he's looking into your soul.

"I want to try something," he says, not glancing away. You simply nod, hardly trusting your voice in the moment as you let him adjust you however he wants.

His right hand slips around your waist, the heat from his skin penetrating yours immediately, warming your side and yourself. You can barely breathe, you're certain he's never been this close to you before. You watch as he follows his hand with his eyes, gripping your waist with his long fingers before trailing his eyes up to your entwined hands. His gaze then trails up to your face and you look at him with an expression that you hope is neutral but is probably very far from it.

He starts to spin you on the rocky shoreline of the black lake, the two of you dancing under the moonlight without any music. It's beautiful and bittersweet all at the same time.

“It was you.”

"It was you," he repeats, sounding breathless, slowing his footwork only slightly. You frown, brows knitting together at his words, completely lost at what he was accusing you of.

"That night, at the ball, it was you."

"Freddie it wasn't me," you say quietly, your emotions bubbling to the surface, finding it too hard to deny any longer under his gaze. "I wanted it to be you that I danced with, I wanted it to be me that you wanted. I looked for you but... it wasn't me Fred."

Tears begin to well up in your eyes but you don't feel upset anymore; you think this is the last step in your grief, the acceptance. You knew that with one simple lie you could have Fred Weasley for yourself, that everything you'd ever wanted was right at your fingertips but you couldn't do it. Not to yourself and especially not to Fred.

"But you were there, it could have been you," he says with determination. Did he want it to be you? You reluctantly shake your head, wishing more than anything that it was.

"The guy I danced with had black hair," you say, wanting to break the gaze but finding it impossible. You feel a pang of sadness when he chuckles, head thrown back with a humourless laugh that makes your stomach lurch. He'd realised that it wasn't you after all. He pulls away from you and your heart breaks just a little bit more.

"You mean like this?" He asks, pulling out his wand and pointing it directly at his head. You scramble to get him to stop whatever he's doing but you're rendered completely silent when you watch with wide eyes and mouth agape as he casts a spell you don't know that immediately turns his fiery locks pitch black.

A sob escapes you as you look at him, hardly recognising the boy you'd loved forever seeing him with black hair, realising that it must have been him.

It really was him.

"There's about 6 people in this school with red hair and 4 of them are Weasleys, kind of defeats the point of being anonymous doesn't it," he says with a smirk. You're gobsmacked, still doubting what's in front of you.

"It really was you? The orange waistcoat with the gold stars?" You say, trying to pull the memory of the mystery man as clearly as you can.

"If you look in my wardrobe right now I can promise you it's hanging there," he says, pocketing his wand, the boyish smile returning to his lips.

"And my dress?" You ask, waiting for the moment he'd describe it wrong and this whole dream would slip away from you.

"Could kill a man," he says with a smirk, trying to calm your apparent nerves and denial. He describes it in near perfect detail, including your mask. You're breathless, lip quivering as you realise that it's really real.

"You believe me?" He asks, slowly moving forward. You nod, unable to find your voice.

"You trust me?"

You nod with more enthusiasm, never doubting your trust in him for a second.

He smirks, moving forward and you reluctantly hold out for hand to stop him, his smirk fading from his face instantly.

"Whatever happens next isn't happening until you look like you again," you say through a laugh, your eyes lighting up as he laughs too having forgotten about the black hair. He pulls out his wand and with a single effortless flick, he's Fred again.

This time he doesn't ask for permission, it's all in your eyes, the welcoming, the love. His hand grabs yours and he slowly pulls you into him, his right hand sliding onto your waist whilst his left hand tucks it self under your chin. There's a moment that passes as you look into each other's eyes where nothing else exists outside of the two of you. His eyes flick down to your lips as his fingers lift your chin ever so slightly whilst he begins to lean down.

His lips feel like pure magic against yours. It's like finding that perfect wand at Ollivanders that has chosen you, completely in sync and connected through a force invisible to the human eye.  You give in to the kiss without a second thought, allowing him to dominate the kiss, his tongue sliding deliciously against your own, the comfort of his pillowy soft lips nearly taking your breath away. It's everything you could have ever imagined and you can't imagine for a single moment from here that you could ever be without it again.

He pulls away eventually and you look up at him with shining eyes, tears of happiness welled up in your eyes at the years of torment finally absolved. He looks at you like he never has before, it's full of love, full of adoration.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he admits with a chuckle that makes you snort at his stupid words.

"I'd wager that I have some idea."

[dearharriet]

Lover's rock by TV girl and Fred please!! Congrats on 150!!

thank you for the request lovely! i only realized after writing that the twins are born in spring, but we can pretend they’re summer babies for my sake ;( (wc: 1.4K)

The twins’ shared apartment is wearing an unusual intimacy tonight, shadowy and warm, with every window open to let the summer breeze drift through. Your friends are in the kitchen, which is a lovely thing to walk in on.

You’re just grabbing another coke to smuggle back to Fred's room, but you linger for a moment by the fridge. It’s the week of the twins' birthday, which will call for riotous celebration later, but for now they both swear they only want a small gathering of all their best mates. Angelina, Lee, Alicia, Katie, Oliver, and you.

Pressing the cool can to your flushed cheeks, you watch them all laugh, a bit faint with how much you want to remember this moment. It’s a testament to your awful crush on Fred that you pull yourself away at all, slinking down the hall into his room again.

“There you are,” says the man himself, bent over his old record machine. “Thought the girls might’ve persuaded you to abandon me.”

“Almost,” you tell him truly. “It’s hard to get us all together like this anymore.”

“It’ll just be a second,” Fred assures you, sifting through stacks of warped vinyls. “I know it’s in here somewhere.”

You take the moment of distraction to lay yourself out atop his cool bedspread, no doubt quilted by his mother.

“No rush.”

Your change of position takes Fred’s attention, and when he finds you, he can only blink. You stare back at him, feeling shy but not quite willing to show it.

“What?”

Fred shakes his head. “Nothing.”

You watch him resume his task, enjoying the way his shoulders fill out the casual tee he’s donned. All of you have known each other for so long, and yet you can’t quite pinpoint when Fred started looking so mature. It’s like it happened under your nose or overnight, a snap of a change just as you blinked your eyes.

“You’re staring.” Fred looks up to catch you, and you can only press your lips together.

“So?”

Neither you nor Fred seem to understand if this is a defense or an admittance, but the air in the room feels all the hotter for it. His eyes flash with a mischievous impulse you’ve seen a thousand times, and you expect some witty comeback. Instead, he just holds up a flimsy yellow square for you to see.

“Found it.”

Just like that, the moment diffuses, your aching chest deflating. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or disappointed.

“Finally,” you sigh. “Put it on, will you?”

He does, gently setting it into its cradle and starting the spin. By the time the song begins, he’s halfway onto the bed.

“Alright, if you don’t like it, you’re not allowed to tell me. It’s my birthday.”

“I like it already.”

Fred sprawls out on his back beside you, a sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel the heat radiating off of him in waves. He shoots a smile your way, boyish and sly. “That’s my girl.”

You try not to read too far into that—Fred says it all the time, and that’s just Fred—but it’s hard with the heat and the soft music. When it comes to feigning indifference, you’re something of a professional, except right now you’re hardly maintaining a regular color.

“I got you something really good for your gift,” you choke, desperate to change the subject.

“Did you, now?” Fred is still looking at you strangely, giddy like he’s waiting for a prank to pan out. Your heart is tumbling in your chest.

“Mhm. I think you’re really gonna like it.”

“I’m sure,” he agrees, his tone dulcet. “I’d like anything you gave me.”

“Oh, come off it,” you scoff breathlessly, cracking like an egg under his attention. Fred’s grin spreads wider, his eyes melting impossibly softer.

“What? I can’t say that?”

You shake your head, truly sick of his teasing.

“No. You’re being a tosser.” Fred’s disbelief rings out of him in a belly laugh. It’s stupid to let it hurt your feelings, but your reactions to Fred have never quite been rational.

“I’m complimenting you, pretty girl.”

The nickname sends a shock of heat through you, equal parts excitement and fury. “You’re making fun.”

“No,” Fred says, and though he’s still wearing a ghost of a smile, his voice is sharp and stern. You can’t bear to look at him, painfully aware of the fact that he’s peering right into the soft center you’ve been harboring for years.

The record plays like a drama now, some sort of cruel irony in its sweeping romanticism singing behind the end of a decade-long friendship.

“I can see you creating a tragedy in your head over there.”

Bracing yourself, you chance a look at Fred. He’s pushed onto one elbow, watching you carefully, knowingly.

“Am not,” you insist.

In response, he only chuckles lightly, like it’s fine that you are and it’s fine that you’re lying about it.

“I don’t play with feelings,” Fred says, “you know that. If I call you pretty, it’s ’cause you are.”

Thinking that can’t possibly be true, you argue, “You play with my feelings all the time.”

“Or you misunderstand me,” he implies, raising his brows, “all the time.”

You blink at him, unsure what to think of that. If Fred liked you, he’s not the type to let it go unsaid. You would know. Surely you would know. Unless, of course, you’ve been a complete fool.

“Really?”

Fred nods, exasperated fondness painted over his features. “Really.”

Covering your face with your hands, you ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Darling, trust me, I tried. You were too cussed to believe me.”

It’s all too much, you can’t believe your own ignorance.

“Fred,” you whine, face flushed for every reason but the heat. He takes your wrists, encouraging your hands down.

“Look, you know now,” he assures you, though he’s still much too amused for your taste, “so you don’t have to worry.”

Your tumultuous heart seems to settle, albeit aching like it’s been mauled by a bear.

“Will you ever forgive me?”

Fred squeezes your wrists as he smiles, and you can’t believe you hadn’t seen it before—the heat in his gaze, the rapt attention. Looking back through years of hazy memories, you realize you can’t pinpoint the beginning of that behavior from him, if there ever was one. Fred has always been Fred, horribly flirty and without boundaries, and you chose to assume he wasn’t serious.

“I’ll forgive you,” he says, “on one condition.”

The pitter-patter of your heart picks up again.

“Yes?”

Leaning close, Fred says, “you have to give me a birthday kiss.”

Your lips twitch with an unbidden smile. “You’re horrible.”

“I’m horrible?” Fred asks, stilling his descent on you. “You won’t do it then?”

“I’ll do it.” As you say so, your hands skirt up Fred’s arms and shoulders to weave into his hair, pulling him closer. “But not because I want to.”

“No,” he breathes, and your senses gather him and only him, “of course not.”

Your lips touch gently, just brushing and feeling against one another. You’re trying very hard not to smile, but it becomes a laborious task when Fred inches deeper, taking your bottom lip between his. After a moment, though, he pulls back.

“One sec,” he says, and slides off the bed.

You watch him move to the record player, which is spinning around the end of the vinyl. You hadn’t even realized it stopped.

“Freddie.”

Both your and Fred’s attention snaps to the door, locking on a very smug looking George. Having no other reference for how you might appear, you look to Fred, and it’s not promising. His lips are smudged pink from your lipstick, and his hair is a mess in the back. It would take an idiot not to know what you two were doing.

Still, George doesn’t object, he just inflates his words with enough self-satisfaction to kill.

“Cake and presents soon. Try to wrap up whatever you’re doing in here.”

Just like that, he’s gone.

Seemingly unfazed, Fred flips the vinyl in his hands and starts it again.

“Shouldn’t we go?” you ask.

Crawling back up the bed, Fred settles into your space again, much closer than before.

“Not yet. Let’s give the b-side a listen.”

+

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

[apparentlytheproblem]

s a f e a r m s

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- fred weasley

a/n: tysmm for requesting agaainn, im sorry this took some time, i wasnt sure how to lead with this but i hope you're happy with how this turned out :)

p.s i love you and this literally has me giggling and smiling

requested- yes

warnings- none i hope

fred weasley, the king with all his pride which no one could strip from him, all the cockiness no one could touch, the one so high from all, that no one would play against his will.

then why oh why was everything he had built for himself, his charm, his walls, his cool, all fumbling and crumbling beneath him when you arrived?

why did his heart flutter? or why did heat rise to his cheeks and why did he feel so weak to a pretty smile? you had every power over him and he despised you for it. he despised himself on how easily you could walk all over him and he'd say thank you. he couldn't fathom why he was so desperate for your attention even if it was for a mere second.

walking around the hallways in all his glory he'd immediately caught you making your way. it was peak rush hour, everyone was squirming their way from one class to another and his girl had seemed to have lost her footing

fred swept in catching her from having a meet with the floor. her arms were hugging him. freddie took a second for him to teach himself how to breathe again.

"the words are you're welcome" supplied fred when your mouth lied open, failing to form words. fred weasley had his arms swung around your waist having you pressed to his chest.

freddie didn't want to let go. he wanted to keep you pressed to him, his hands were everyone could see. he wanted to hold on forever.

"are you planning on letting go freddie darling?"

fuck. fred was officially pudding after he heard 'freddie' roll out of your mouth, he was fulfilled.

"so you can go and fall all over again? let them finish scavenging the halls or you'll become squash." how he managed to sound so confident and steady he didn't know?

maybe it had something to do with Rodger Holmes on the other side of the corridor, his face filled with jealousy. it gave freddie a kick. the girl he's been pinning for in freddie's arms, pressed against him whispering into each other's ears. Holmes did not need to know what as long as he could see she was in her weasley's arms. it helped him establish his dominance. you were to be his even if you didn't know it yet, even if you'd thought him to be the cruel cold hearted prankster, and Rodger dear better sit the hell back down.

[idk-void]

I’ve searched far and wide (or however that saying goes) but I can’t find this Weasley twin post.

I vaguely remember it was leaned more to Fred Weasley x reader. Where reader and Johnson started up a side business at the joke shop for intimate items. There was even a part two I think with an interview. It even had a really well made daily prophet article with a picture of one white girl and another black girl.

I completely forget to reblog it 😔 Does anyone know who posted it? Or if it’s even if it’s still up?

^ Me to everyone liking this post but not helping (JK, kinda)

[nottsangel]

fred and thigh riding,,, him guiding your hips and kissing your neck 😵‍💫

“you’re— you’re not even going to help me?” you ask, your voice trembling with desperation, craving more than just his thigh, as you’ve been eagerly looking forward to feeling him deep inside you all day long. he lets out a condescending chuckle, sitting back with his hands resting behinds his head and a sly smirk on his face. “nah… i’m just here to enjoy the show, darling.” he winks playfully, causing your cheeks to heat up. you eventually take what he offers, figuring it’s better than nothing, and place your hands on his shoulders for support as you begin to rhythmically grind down on his thigh, your hips rocking back and forth.

“feels so good, freddie, fuck!” you moan when he flexes his thigh under you, adding more friction as his hands wander towards your hips, gripping them possessively. “yeah?” he growls, slowly guiding your hips with a tight, controlling grip, bringing you closer to your release as your wetness drips all over his leg, a damp patch forming on the fabric of his pants. “mhmm. so fucking good.” you gasp, your eyes fluttering shut to focus on the feeling, before you suddenly feel fred’s soft lips attached to the skin of your neck, planting wet, lingering kisses. “good girl.”

one of his strong hands grips the back of your head, pulling you closer as he sucks on your neck, marking you with hickeys while his other hand grips your hips tightly, guiding your movements. “tell me what you want, love.” he whispers directly into your ear, his hot breath and the vibrations of his voice on your skin sending shivers down your spine as your sharp nails dig into his skin. “need— need to cum, please” you beg, the pleasure intensifying as his hard, flexed muscles pressing against your aching clit have your head spinning.

“yes, ma’am. whatever you want.” he replies teasingly, practically feeling him smirk against your skin before both his hands find your hips again, speeding up your movements, making you throw your head back with your mouth agape. “you gonna cum all over my leg? hm? naughty girl.” he growls, his words driving you closer to the edge before your orgasm unexpectedly crashes over you, causing you to scream his name as you feel your legs tremble uncontrollably.

“that’s it, sweetheart. there you go.” fred coos soothingly, guiding you through your intense orgasm as you pant heavily, before collapsing onto him and wrapping your arms tightly around him, pulling him as close to you as humanly possible. “hmm. that was so good, freddie.” he smirks, his voice low and teasing. “you didn’t think we were done, did you?”

ੈ♡˳

[rottenherbs]

Fred Weasley secret relationship! Headcanon

[masterlist]

honestly Fred would be down for a fake / secret relationship fling etc

He felt as if the entire school knew of his every move 

Seeing as he blew something up or his laughter announced his presence

lots of eye locking in class 

Pretending not to know him and introducing yourself

Especially if you were in a different house ,, 

Playing dumbbbb 

He thought it was so cute how’d you ignore him 

He’d introduce himself many times to you in any way possible 

Flirting in the dark 

Secret touches in the hallway, not looking at eachother but fingers grazing as you passed eachother 

You’d sleep in his clothes,

Hiding his thirty under your robes if you were feeling particularly lonesome 

Thursday nights in the library were the least busy 

You two could sneak in the corner and cast a shield to blur your bodies 

Having picnic lunches hidden in the forest 

The secrecy only brewing the love between you

 something ONLY you knew about. 

Something ONLY you could approve or disapprove of 

It’s not that either of you didn’t wish to be hidden 

It sorta just started frivolously 

And worked so well 

Why fix something that’s not broken eh?

*NSFW*

Sneaking around to fuck was probably his favorite part 

Any room 

Any closet 

Behind desks

Touching under tables 

seeing you with other boys actually turned him on 

He knew no matter how they treated you 

He could touch you better than they’d ever achieve

Lots of social play 

speaking with his eyes whether he wanted you NOW 

He’d keep your hair tie on his wrist after 

As a momentum or award 

Whenever you’d tie your hair up to suck him off

Hed always make sure to take it out for you,

His small box of your hair ties in his drawer 

Maybe one day he’d give them back 

But he relished in the little piece he could keep of your time together 

[nottswitch]

hey! i lovelovelove your writing and i was hoping you could do a fred weasley x ravenclaw!reader (fem) and theyre just being cute and fluffy at the library brainstorming products and he suddenly ropes the reader into a prank and the reader pretends to disapprove but after a lot of banter she eventually admits that she does think hes brilliant and just. fluff.

thank you!

⋆˙⟡ ravenclaw!reader secretly finds her boyfriend’s antics brilliant

hi there and thank you! <3 i’m so sorry it took me this long to get to your request, but i hope you’re still here!! love the fred x ravenclaw dynamic so so much, i hope you enjoy this!

warnings: a bit of swearing, lots of fluff

navigation ; masterlist ; fred m.list ; how to request

when fred got you, he was, for the lack of a better word, absolutely thrilled. not only were you absolutely gorgeous and could handle his and george’s sense of humor, you were also a ravenclaw – and the top of your class, no less, which for the weasley brothers was similar to hitting a gold mine. it was only a matter of time before they could, using their irresistible charm and maybe some of fred’s personal tactics, persuade you to help them with new developments for the weasley’s wizard wheezes shop. and you did from time to time, reluctantly, as it wasn’t entirely appropriate for a prim and proper ravenclaw like you, but you secretly enjoyed it.

on one of those days, on a warm, spring evening, you were sitting at the library, studying, as usual. as your nose was firmly in a potions book, you didn’t hear footsteps slowly approaching you from behind. only when a pair of soft yet firm hands obstructed your view of the academic text did you realize that you’d been creeped up on.

“guess who?” a familiar voice with an unmistakable hint of mischief wondered. y ou giggled and pressed your hands against his, even though there was no real need – you’d recognize them anywhere.

“freddie,” you murmured, a smile spreading on your lips. you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in a while, and the unexpected encounter was more than welcome, in your book.

"in the flesh."

your eyes ached a bit after the hands covering them were removed and the warm, bright light of the library candles hit them again. but the ache was quickly soothed by a pair of lips pressed against yours in a short yet passion-filled kiss. you frowned when fred pulled away, your face jerking forward to chase him, but the grin stretching his mouth immediately erased the crease between your eyebrows. you could never be upset when he looked this happy.

"studying again?" fred asked, smirking as he mindlessly flipped through the pages of the book in front of you, not paying the texts any real attention. you nodded, letting out a sigh – of course, for someone as smart as you, studying wasn’t the biggest chore, but sometimes, even the greatest of minds needed some rest, some distraction.

seeing your covertly tired expression, fred’s eyes softened, but the mischievous smirk on his lips never left. "come on, honey cheeks, lighten up," he said in a lighthearted manner, plopping down into the chair next to you and closing your textbook shut with a loud noise.

"fred!” you whisper-yelled, hoping that madam pince didn’t hear the sudden disturbance of the silence in her precious library. your boyfriend simply grinned, seemingly unbothered, and rummaged through his bag for a moment. with a victorious ‘got it!’ he fished out a small bar of what looked like chocolate and placed it on the table, giving you a proud look.

the look should’ve been a clear sign, but your hand still reached for the bar, thinking it was just one of the usual sweets fred got you from time to time, “just to see your pretty smile”, as he himself put it. but evidently, it wasn’t the case, because his hand quickly moved to shield the chocolate from yours.

"oh no, hun, i wouldn’t eat it if i were you," fred said, the smirk on his lips widening, making a dimple on his left cheek pop out. "unless you want to have your ears wiping the ground, that is."

you raised an eyebrow in confusion at first, but as the gears in your brain turned, you started understanding exactly what was happening. the realization made you roll your eyes.

"again?" you breathed out, looking at fred with an exasperated but also somewhat amused expression. it seemed like every week him and george would come up with something new for their shop, and this time, it seemed to be… a chocolate bar.

"oh, you know it, honey cheeks."

fred grabbed the product, tossing it into the air, catching it and swiftly bringing it to your face, which made you flinch and giggle at the same time.

"let me present to you, my love, the best punishment for the especially nosy – prying prick’s plague. the title’s a work in progress."

you chuckled, shaking your head at his antics. it wasn’t the first time, and of course, wouldn’t be the last, you knew it all too well. you pretended to give him a disapproving look about the ‘prick’ part, but all that came out was a very adorable – in fred’s opinion – scowl.

"what?" fred asked, raising an eyebrow back at you. he twirled the chocolate bar between his nimble fingers, tossing and catching it again. "it makes your ears turn really damn huge. just what nosy pricks need."

"yeah? why do I feel like this was made with someone in mind?" you narrowed your eyes at the boy in front of you, suspiciously staring him down. he looked a bit too mischievous even for his usual self.

"ah, darling, perceptive as always," fred praised in a dramatic manner, giving you a pat on the back. you rolled your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. "we did have someone in mind. and here, my love, is where you come into the picture."

"huh?"

you furrowed your forehead, your expression turning a bit dumbfounded. sure, the brothers appreciated your expertise on their stuff, but they had never tried to actually… use you in one of their endless pranks. and it seemed like fred was suggesting exactly that.

fred let out a short chuckle at your cute, puzzled face, and reached out with his hand to caress your hair, as if he was soothing you. a ‘tsk’ could be heard coming out of your mouth, but you didn’t pull away, letting him pet you.

"don’t worry, hun, it’s nothing too bad," fred murmured, but the smirk still tugging at the corner of his mouth was too playful for your liking. "you’re tutoring malfoy in herbology, right?"

"yeah," you confirmed, irritation briefly flicking through the depth of your eyes. the guy’s ambition to become a healer was a commendable one, but his skills in herbology were, for the lack of a better word, not present.

"and you would agree that he’s a prying prick, right?"

"um…"

sure, malfoy could be annoying. and he always seemed to have his nose in everybody’s business, thinking his "valuable input" was, in fact, valuable. but surely, fred didn’t mean…?

"yeah." fred’s single word seemed to confirm your thoughts, as if he was reading your mind.

"no way. you actually want to…?"

"and with your help, no less."

fred grinned when the scowl on your face turned even more disapproving. he slipped his hand from your head down to your face, her knuckles softly brushing against the apples of your cheeks. he always thought you were totally adorable like that, all mad at him for yet another disturbance of peace he was planning to cause. this time, it was even better, since you were also going to be involved. and he knew that you were going to – even underneath your prim and proper exterior, a spark of excitement always flickered whenever he told you about his and george’s pranks.

"merlin, you’re insufferable," you groaned, still leaning into fred’s touch, unable to resist the warmth of his loving hand caressing your face.

"and you love it, hun," he responded, giving you a sly wink, knowing exactly what it always did to you. "just admit it – I’m brilliant. and my dear brother, of course, but mostly me."

"yeah, yeah, whatever," you muttered, begrudgingly agreeing with his cocky statement. the image of malfoy with huge floppy ears was indeed a pretty hilarious one, and his inevitable tantrum would definitely be a sight to behold.

fred laughed at your reluctant admission of his superior thinking and affectionately pecked your cheek. what a delight you were – gorgeous, smart and secretly, a bit wicked. his dream girl.

[softly-sirius]

Fred's Lucky Tie

Or, You give Fred a gift he cherishes for the rest of his life (1.7k)

Warnings: The reader is briefly mentioned to share a dorm with a girl. The reader wears a dress. No actual pronouns or genders mentioned

Your hands run up and down all the fabrics on display. Each was soft, but your fingers lingered on the dark purple silk. It felt cold to the touch and your pointer glided down the sample.

It was the perfect shade, perfect because it was Fred’s favourite colour. You had come shopping with your friend in hopes of finding some inspiration for your dress. Fred was always the better dresser of the two of you, even though his lack of funds didn’t often allow him to dress how he wished. 

He already had his robes, his mum had lovingly picked them out for him and after a few magical adjustments, he managed to get them to his liking. Only it didn’t stop you from asking the shop assistant for some of the fabric, it was pricey, and it cost almost an entire term's worth of Hogsmeade money, but you knew it would be worth it. 

Just like how spending the whole week trying to transform your dress into something suitable was going to be worth it. 

You already had more knowledge than most about spells to dye things, mostly hair, but a little about clothes too. It only took a day of tweaking with Lee’s help to get the colour exactly right. Then it was the exhausting back and forth of trying to get each measurement perfect, trying the dress on, taking it off again, making the adjustments and then checking to make sure you had done it right. You dared not try the spells while the dress was on your body after seeing the marks left on Hannah Abbot's shoulders when she tried to tighten her spaghetti straps one hot day at the lake. 

Compared to your dress, making Fred's tie was easy. You decided to make it by hand, just to make it feel extra special. You knew how much Fred loved the sweaters his mum made, even if he did think they were a little dorky. He still wore them all the time, far more often than you had seen Ron or Percy. Seeing him cherish those sweaters made you love him even more and it made you want to try your hand at some kind of craft. So far a tie has been the least daunting option. 

There was a girl in your dorm who loved to sew, she had a sewing machine she claimed was passed down in her family from generation to generation. It had been bewitched to never make a crooked stitch. When you asked her for help she seemed ecstatic, even telling you all about old ball traditions, while you hand-stitched with her supervision. 

It was the day before the ball and you were so nervous, not because you thought Fred would think you anything less than stunning in your dress. You were sure you could walk down wearing anything, a sack even and he would tell you how beautiful you were. You were nervously trying to make sure that your tie was perfect, ironing it over and over. 

You were both going to try on your outfits for the ball together in his dorm. Before you could even come up with an excuse for your suggestion Fred was beaming. “Just can’t wait until tomorrow, huh love?” 

You rolled your eyes at him, shoving him in the back as you sat on his bed. It wasn’t like a fashion show was unheard of between the two of you. If one of you got something new for a special occasion you would always do this. One of you would splay out on Fred's bed while the other modelled the new outfit. 

It had started when Fred and George had first joined the quidditch team, they had both been ecstatic and as the best friend you were, you asked to see them in their uniforms, cheering them as they both emerged, uncharacteristically shy in their second-hand uniforms. Until you had begun narrating on the sidelines. 

“And here come Gryffndor's newest beaters, their shirts can barely even contain their bulging muscles. The Slytherin team must be shitting themselves.“

Somehow it had become a tradition, even more so when you and Fred started dating. Fred hurried off to the bathroom, normally he would change in front of you, wiggling his brows and laughing as you would whistle or slap his ass. During a fashion show though, he never wanted to spoil the surprise. 

While he was gone you made quick work of stripping off and getting into your dress. He always took forever, he blamed his long limbs, so you knew you would have time. You grabbed the gift box you had put the tie into. 

You lifted the lid slightly, careful not to disturb the bow on top, wanting to check it was still perfect. You almost dropped it when Fred barged out of the bathroom, doing his best model pose. 

The two of you stared open-mouthed at the other. Fred visibly gulped as his eyes raked you up and down, dressed in his favourite colour. You weren’t much better, eyes widening at the way his pants clung to his thighs. 

“You look-”

“Merlin-”

You both erupted in giggles, a little taken aback by the cheesiness of it all. You both move instinctively forward, Pulled to the other as your hands reach out, your hand rests on Fred’s chest, playing with his lapel while his hands cup your face. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, mind whirling wondering how he managed to be so lucky. You had been dating for so long now, but still, you managed to give him butterflies. He could never tire of your smile, your laugh, your theatrics. 

Fred had never understood how love could make people so foolish. As a first-year, he would laugh at the couples kissing in the hallways and cringe whenever his dad would give his mum a sloppy kiss on the cheek. 

Now he would look at his mum and dad and hope that you and he would be like that one day. 

He enjoyed doing everything with you. He loved pranking with you, hearing your laugh echo through the corridors as you would run hand in hand. He loved the times you would spend relaxing, sneaking into the prefect bathroom because you insisted he needed it after quidditch. He loved the feeling of you raking your fingers through his hair, to help him de-stress or when you would do it up in ridiculous styles to cheer him up. He loves listening to you talk about the things you enjoy, even when he knows nothing about them, how animated you get until you are completely lost in your world. Hell, he even enjoys arguing with you, the cute furrow you get in your brow and the pout you give him when you just need him to give in. He loves feeling you melt into him when he wraps his arms around you, even when you’re still mad at him, because you love him too. 

“I don’t think words can do your beauty justice,” Fred grinned. You duck your head bashfully, but Fred's finger hooks under your chin, bringing your gaze back up to him. 

You kiss him, lips sickly sweet as they peck his over and over again until you finally will yourself away. “You look so handsome, Freddie” You sigh, voice nothing but sincere. “But…” You trail off.

Still resting in your hand that isn’t pressed against his chest is a gift box. Too preoccupied with you to pay attention to anything else, it’s only now he finally notices it as you hold it out between you. 

“You got me something?” He hesitates and you can see it in his eyes. 

Gifts, except on birthdays and Christmas, can be a sore spot for him. He doesn’t have the money to buy you things, even if he wants to. It’s difficult to accept things when he doesn’t feel he has anything to offer you in return. Only he has everything you’d ever need, love, affection, and an endless supply of humour. 

There's only one exception to the unspoken rule of no gifts. 

“I made you something” You correct, smiling when he finally takes the gift from you. He opens his mouth, but you cut him off because you already know what he’s going to say. “I’m not expecting anything back, it’s more a gift for me than anything, I wanted us to match.”

“Oh yeah?” Suddenly all his hesitancy is gone and he’s ripping the box open like a kid on Christmas morning. 

When he holds it in his hand and feels the fabric, he looks from his tie to your dress. The colours perfectly matched. “This is…you made this?”

“Yeah, I..” You feel a little bashful as he studies your gift, taking in every little detail as he turns it back and forth. You scratch the back of your neck “ I saw the fabric in Hogsmeade and I thought of you,”  

His eyes catch on a homemade label with a red heart and your initials embroidered onto the lining on the back. His thumb rubs over it and when he finally tears his gaze away from the tie and looks at you instead your chest leaps at the redness of his eyes. 

You worry you’ve done something wrong, that maybe the label came across as possessive instead of as a symbol of all the love you sewed the tie with. He diminishes your worries when he looks you into a bone-crushing hug and he’s gushing into your shoulder about how much he adores it. 

You end up tying his tie for him, both of you internally relishing in the domesticity of it all. You kiss him all sweet once his tie is on properly. Both of you daydreaming about your lives when you finish Hogwarts. 

Fred uses any chance he gets during the ball to tell everyone that his girl made his tie for him. He boasts about how good it looks, along with how good you look and especially how great you look together. 

It soon becomes his lucky tie, he wears it the first day the shop opens and any important day after. If the two of you are having an anniversary he makes sure to wear it. He even insists he wants to be buried in it. You make him more things, a scarf with Molly's assistance, a waistcoat which took months to perfect and even more ties to add to his collection. 

He still never stops wearing the first you made him though, even when it looks a little worse for wear. He even wears it on your wedding day. Laughing as your hand tugs on it to bring him in for your first kiss as man and wife.

[pappydaddy]

sorry about the shirt (f.w.)

a/n: now that i named this fic this, now i have an idea for another fic with this as a prompt.... ugh my mind, curse my cognition! also, i have deleted this and reformatted this like six times and the title is still not saving as a god-damn title anymore. ugh. tumblr (pls don't shadowban me again)

tv show/movie: harry potter | pairing: fred weasley x fem!hufflepuff!reader

requested by the lovely @readingfan  (hope you enjoy it💛!) | my little pea-sized, fred-lane brain made this a fred x reader without me realizing it until seconds before posting this

synopsis: fred and george getting a summer job in a coffee shop where a pretty girl frequents. said pretty girl seems to have fred in a trance. what could possibly go wrong? well, fred knows what could now that an innocent shirt has been ruined.

taglist: @frederickandgeorge-weasley | @lilypad-55449 | @popeheywardssecretgf | @eichenhouseproperty | @slytherinambitious | @onyourgoddamnleft *line through you user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: reader is described to wear sundresses | mentioned of negative thoughts about oneself (reader has negative thoughts about herself) | fred and george being teens (aged to be 18, idc if it's not canonically plausible) working in retail).

navigation | masterlist | taglist sign-up

- not my gif -

GIF by fgweasley

Summer was supposed to be a time of freedom, long nights, and recklessness and there was nobody else who knew this more than Fred and George. Unfortunately for them, it appears that their summer was going to be nothing but seeing the inside of that damn coffee shop. Fred and George rarely ever regretted a prank, but right now, they were starting to think that perhaps slipping Malfoy that candy that made his skin turn Gryffindor red and his hair a golden snitch gold wasn’t worth this. It also taught them that when Malfoy said his father would hear about this, he actually means it - sometimes.  

  However, no matter how funny the prank was and how much it was worth all the time they spent planning and agonizing to create the final product, it was not worth this. Not worth the wrinkled fingers that lost all feeling after wiping down every single table and counter in the cafe. Not worth the skin of the heat from the coffee machines. Not worth the horrible experience of dealing with customers. Not to mention uncomfortable uniforms. Forced to wear black jeans, black dress shirts, and a ratty old apron ten other people wore before them. 

  While George grumbled everyday, hoping and wishing for their return to Hogwarts (something nobody expected to hear), Fred’s summer was not a complete waste. He did not realize this when they applied for their job, but this coffee shop tucked into a hidden alleyway of Diagon Alley was often frequented by a rather pretty girl. In her flowing sundresses, her hair cascading down over her shoulders in soft waves. When he first saw her his knees nearly gave out. Then when she turned to leave (lemonade in hand - it was a hot day) and he caught a glimpse of the white ribbon tying her hair into a half-up, half-down style, George had to catch him because his knees did give out. She looked vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t exactly place her. 

  “She’s in our year, a Hufflepuff,” Hermione had told him one day when she and Ron had visited them. They were out gathering ideas for a present for Harry. “She’s quiet, likes to stick to her routine but doesn’t shy away from new opportunities. She’s in my book club and study club. She has such a beautiful voice but she thinks it's horrible - that’s why she is so quiet.” She revealed after Fred pressed her for more information. 

  Unfortunately for Fred, he has yet to hear that beautiful voice since he never seems to be on the cash when she comes in or someone beats him to it - usually George as a form of twisted amusement. “Hermione was right. She does have a beautiful voice.” George blinked after the first time he took her order. It was later discovered that the reason she hates her voice was because some Slytherins had poked fun at her in First Year, leaving her with an ugly taste in her mouth and horrible self-confidence. Fred could wring their necks, every last one of them. 

  Anytime Fred had any downtime, he found himself thinking of her. He knew nothing of her but, yet, she consumed every thought and every dream of his. Such as today. It was a horribly humid and dreadful day. Every door to the coffee shop was open, a cooling spell was placed on the shop but it was barely fighting against the stickiness, and the owner even found some muggle fans and set them up. It was slow, barely anyone wanted to leave their houses and if they did, they surely couldn’t even think about sipping on a coffee - even one of their iced ones since the ice would probably melt before they even took their first sip. 

  But here was Fred, elbows digging into the counter as he hogged one of the fans. His back was facing the entrance as he moved with the fan which was oscillating. George was in the back, doing work back there but Fred was sure he was just sitting in front of that fan. “Bloody hell.” He groaned, pinching his shirt and pulling it away from him. This was torture. 

  “Excuse me,” A soft, hesitant voice called to him over the rattling of the fan, startling him. Turning around, his eyes widened when she saw who stood at the counter. Hair pulled up into a high ponytail, bangs hanging around her face from where the shorter strands fell out of the ponytail. Even looking right at her, he saw the ribbon she usually wore in her hair. Today’s was a pretty yellow shade, matching the sundress she wore. It was a pale yellow, nothing that jumped right out at you. “Could I get a large lemonade?” She asked him, blinking sweetly as she rolled up to the balls of her white converse. That voice. He was blown away. He was never going to be the same after hearing that beautiful sound. How could he go on with his life knowing that that voice exists and he isn’t hearing it every second of everyday.  

  “Yes, of course,” He nodded, rushing to the counter, nearly tripping over himself. “George, can you make a large lemonade?” He yelled out back as he typed away on the till. Instantly, George emerged, a large lemonade in hand. 

  “Here ya go, Y/N. I knew you would be wanting one of these today. Made it once I heard your voice.” He winked at her and Fred contemplated murdering him right there. He actually considered it when she giggled at his twin, but the sound made him stop. Everybody said her voice was the most beautiful sound, which he could agree with all his heart on now that he heard it, but her giggle. Just thinking about making her laugh made him want to lay on his stomach on his bed and kick his feet like Ginny does whenever Harry says hi to her. 

  “Thank you, George,” She smiled thankfully, holding out her hand. Almost as if under a spell, Fred reached his hand out, palm facing up. With her sweet smile turning to Fred, she dropped a handful of sickles in his palm. Her fingers brushed against the palm of his hand, sending shivers and sparks running through his nerves. “That’s enough for the lemonade and ten sickles for you guys to split for a tip. Thank you, Fred.” 

  The shock sent to Fred’s system was immense when she said his name. She knew his name. She knew his name. He opened and closed his mouth as she turned on her heel, her skirt flaring up adorably, her ponytail and ribbon flaring up as well and off she went into the dreadful heat, making Fred’s day so much better. 

____

  It was a rush. Possibly the biggest rush Fred and George have ever experienced at the shop. The queue was running out of the door. Perhaps everyone just now realized that summer was coming to a close and just now decided to emerge from their lazy, hazy, summer daze to enjoy the days. This, of course, made Fred miserable. 

  Instead of enjoying their time, patrons were making their lives a living hell. And for what? Amusement? What was the reason he had to get yelled at by a man because his coffee was too hot to drink? He questioned if it was possible that these people got some sort of happiness from throwing adult hissyfits and yelling at underpaid, overworked employees. Did they have some sort of odd kink? Did it fill a missing void? Whatever it was, Fred quite frankly did not want to be part of it.  

  However, when he saw that shining face in the queue, her nose buried in her book as she read so intently. She wore her hair down aside from two locks of hair tied back into a braid, secured by a light blue ribbon today. When he saw her, he froze for a moment. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way the sun burned through the dirty windows (that seemed to have fingerprint smudged permanently tattooed on it) and hit her like a golden spotlight. The way her finger absentmindedly stroked the cover of her book as she read. 

  “Excuse me,” The customer in front of him barked. He jolted back to reality. Frankly, he already was in reality since Y/N was completely gorgeous. There was no fantasy about that. She was perfect. The fantasy was that she had feelings for him or at least thought he was cute. “Did you get my order?” The man, a short, plump man with an angry red nose despite the beautiful summer day they were having, grumbled. 

  “One medium coffee. Would you like that iced or with anything in it?” Fred asked the normal questions, bracing himself for the normal response he usually received from people with certain mannerisms. 

  The man’s nose seemed to get even more red. “Of course I don’t. If I wanted it another way, I would have ordered it another way. What do I look like? An idiot? Rowena, you kids these days, needing to have things iced and sweetened. Whatever happened to the good British taste? Black coffee. That is what I want-”

  “That will be 3 sickles, Sir.” Fred read the total off, noticing how Y/N glanced up, rolling onto her tiptoes to take note of what was taking so long. He wanted to get this nasty old man out of his line so that she could get on with her day. Her day shouldn’t be wasted in this shop waiting in line. 

  “Here, keep the change.” The man basically tossed the sickles at Fred. Four sickles. 

  “Some change,” Fred whispered under his breath, putting three sickles in the till and dropping one in the communal tip jar. That naked a total of five sickles in tips. “Have a nice day, sir,” Fred faked a smile as the man waddled off to the pick-up area, barking at George to hurry up. “I can help whoever is next.” “Two people until her.” Fred thought. 

  “Hi, could we get two lemonades? Mediums please,” The teen girl giggled, eyes staring up at Fred sweetly. Fred nodded, writing the order down and sliding it along the counter. Harrison, the manager, grabbed it to start making it. “So, we’ll be seeing you at Hogwarts in a couple of weeks, right, George?” She asked with a bat of her eyelashes, still getting his name wrong despite his name tag being basically eye level with her. He could see Y/N look up from her book, snickering slightly behind her book. 

  “I’m actually Fred. And yes. That will be seven sickles today.” Fred read off their total, holding his hand out for their money. 

  “Oh, sorry. You both are so handsome, it’s hard to tell you apart.” She flirted with a wink, dropping exactly seven sickles in his hand. 

  “Have a nice day,” He nodded to them as they wandered off with linked arms to bother George. “Next please!” He just needed to take care of this one customer and then she would be at his cash. Evidently, she noticed this as she was tucking her book into her bag and pulling out her coin wallet. He watched her intently, somehow managing to take the customer’s order and recite the amount of money he needed. 

  He watched as she counted the sickles she had pulled out before pulling out two more coins before doing some math in her head. He could tell since her eyes flicked around and she used her free hand to wiggle her fingers as if counting on them. “Have a nice day.” He wasn’t even sure what that customer ordered, but he must have done it right. 

  And up stepped the person he was waiting for. Y/N stepped up with a bounce, smiling brightly at him. He wanted to faint right there. There she was, standing there and it overwhelmed him so much that his nervous system was going haywire on him. “Hi, Freddie!” She seemed to have gotten much more comfortable. She was more bubbly and talkative with him and his brother. She even started to call them by nicknames. It warmed Fred’s heart to the point it might burst. 

  “Hi, Y/N, what can I get for you today?” He asked, trying to calm his racing heart and malfunctioning nervous system. He was in fight-or-flight with the secret third option: faint. 

  “Just a large iced coffee. I am trying to finish off the last book on my book club’s summer reading list and I decided I might as well change up the scenery.” She explained, her voice much more even and comfortable. Not the same reluctant, soft voice she had when she first talked to him. And if he thought that voice was beautiful, then this voice was perfect. Alluring. Charming. Cute. Marvelous. Dazzling. Delicate. Stunning. Splendid. Gorgeous. Lovely. Any synonym there was for beautiful because this voice was so much better. 

  Before he could even tell her the total, she handed him the sickles she had counted out prior to the interaction. She always did it. “Three sickles for the iced coffee and how many for the tip?” He asked, knowing exactly how she worked things. 

  “Fifteen. Five for everyone who worked today,” She smiled as she rolled up to the balls of her feet - something he found that she did often. The line was gone aside from her and part of Fred wished it would stay away so she could stand there talking to him, but unfortunately someone walked in. “I’ll leave you to it, Fred.” She smiled at him. It appeared sad and part of him hoped that she felt upset about having to part from him. 

  He watched her walk over to George who held her coffee out to her. Sharing pleasantries, she headed off to one of the many tables. Taking her normal table by the window. “Alright boys. I am heading out, I’ll be back in two hours to close it down.” Harrison told them. That was most likely the last rush of the day. People didn’t tend to frequent the coffee shop near close. They gave him nods as he left. 

  Thirty minutes and they hadn’t stopped. Anytime they saw a lull coming, once they served one customer, two more would come. Just as Fred turned his back, taking a deep breath as the attack stopped, he heard the approaching footsteps of someone. He wanted to roll his eyes and outwardly show the resentment he had felt, but he didn’t feel the same hostility he had felt with the last few customers. Part of him should have known why before he turned around, but sometimes he isn’t always on the ball. 

  As he turned around, he was pleasantly shocked to see Y/N standing there at the counter again, her head down as she inspected the wet patch on her blue sundress. After a few seconds of silence, she looked up, hand hovering over the patch on the center of her torso. “Hey, Fred, again,” She smiled, a bit awkwardly as she didn’t usually come up after she got her order unless it was to say bye to the boys (something rather new after she got comfortable with them). “Do you think I could get a napkin? That last customer who left kind of knocked into me a bit and I got the last bit of iced coffee on me-” She cut herself off as Fred reacted without thinking, grabbing the back of his brother’s black shirt and ripping it off of him.

  “Here you go, Y/N.” He handed it to her. Shocked, she took it from him. George just stood there, blinking at his brother as if he had gone completely mad. Fred considered this a sign that perhaps, working nearly every single day of the summer had made him cracked in the head. Slowly, looking at the face Y/N was making, he came back into his body. It was as if seeing Y/N in need made him go into autopilot, doing whatever he needed to to resolve the issue Y/N was facing. 

  “Fred, what in Godric's name?” George questioned, still a bit shocked that his brother completely ripped the back of his shirt off, leaving just his sleeves and the front. It was silent as the three of them all looked at each other, trying to make sense of the situation. Fred couldn’t even remember his brain telling him to do that, let alone any thought of ripping his brother’s shirt. 

  The silence was broken by the sweet giggles of Y/N. Fred nearly gave himself whiplash turning his head to look at her. There she stood, on the other side of the counter, one hand holding the tattered shreds of George’s shirt, the other one hovering over her mouth as her giggled turned into laughter, eyes crinkling closed. “Oh my Helga,” She pressed her lips together, her purely magnetic eyes opening and meeting Fred’s with a zing being sent through Fred’s body like electricity (which this summer, he discovered was pretty dangerous). “I needed that, Freddie. That guy who bumped my arm as a complete arse-” Fred blinked, that might have been the most foul he had ever heard her talk, though Hermione had told him she had said much worse about some of the guys in their year. “You know exactly what to do to make people laugh, it’s an amazing gift,” She nodded at him, a large smile hanging off her lips. “Thank you, see you at Hogwarts if I am not in next week.” She whispered as she rolled onto the balls of her feet. 

  Before Fred could react, she was pressing her lips against his cheek. Her sweet looking lips felt even sweeter against the now burning flesh of his freckled cheeks. He knew that now he felt her lips, he wasn’t going to be able to stop thinking about how they would feel against his own lips, but right now his brain was empty. He couldn’t function as she pulled away, heels crashing to the ground. A bashful smile stayed on her lips as she waved to the pair of them, Fred so far gone he barely even registered the fact that her lips were no longer touching him - probably due to the fact that the tingling he felt was still there.    When he finally came back into his body again, Y/N and her bashfulness had left with her book tucked under her arm for almost five minutes. Blinking around, Fred saw the basically empty shop, the only person lingering being someone who had been there for two hours now. Looking to his side, he felt George’s “what the hell” look before he saw it. Winching, nervous about his brother’s wrath. “Sorry about the shirt, George.”

[whimsicaldoxy]

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 - 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

pairing: fred weasley x reader

summary: you and fred share a cozy evening at the burrow on new year’s eve, surrounded by the weasley family’s warmth and chaos.

notes: established relationship, pre-war, insinuated fem!reader, no use of y/n, fred loves pet names, fluff

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The time was creeping closer and closer to midnight, and the evening air was filling the Burrow, the scent of smoked wood and Mrs Weasley’s famous treacle tart.

Fred was sat beside you on the patchwork sofa in the living room, his arm draped lazily over your shoulders. The pair of you were half-buried under a hand-knitted blanket, sharing a butterbeer.

“Go on, admit it,” Fred said, leaning closer as his freckled face glowed in the firelight. “You’re only dating me for my charm.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back into the sofa. “Oh, absolutely. It’s definitely not for your constant, irritating smugness or the way you ruin a perfectly good evening by stealing all the treacle tart before I can even get a bite.”

Fred gasped dramatically, his hand flying to his chest. “Darling, you wound me! You know my heart belongs only to you.”

George, his brother, who perched on the arm of the couch like a smug cat, chimed in. “That and his stomach. Mum’s cooking ranks a close second.”

Fred ignored him. “You’re not denying it, though,” he said, his grin widening as he looked back at you. “See? Can’t even argue because you love me.”

“Love might be a strong word,” you said, lifting the mug to your lips, hiding your smirk behind the rim.

“Oi!” Fred started, his finger gripping the blanket in attempt to pull it. George gave him a sharp jab in the side. “Off you go, Freddie. Don’t embarrass yourself further.”

You yank at the blanket, pulling it fully over you as Fred bickered with his twin. “Speaking of embarrassing yourself,” you said, raising an eyebrow at Fred. “Are you going to ask what my New Year’s resolution is, or are you too scared to know?”

He perked up at that, his golden-brown eyes gleaming with curiosity. “All right. Let’s hear it. Let me guess—it’s to learn to tolerate my unparalleled wit?”

You leaned closer, the corner of your mouth quirking into a grin. “It’s to beat you at Exploding Snap this year. Every. Single. Time.”

Fred blinked once. Then twice. Then he threw his head back in a loud, delighted laugh before leaning forward. “Blimey, darling. That’s ambitious, even for you.”

“You’ll see,” you replied smugly, leaning in.

“Five minutes to midnight!” Mrs Weasley’s voice boomed from the kitchen. “Everyone grab your drinks and get outside for the fireworks! And George, if you light a single one before we’re ready, so help me—”

The whole family shuffled outside, you included, the cold winter air hitting you like a sudden shock after the warmth of the house. Snow crunched underfoot, white, soft and glittering under the light of the stars. The garden was a chaos of footprints and hastily trampled paths, leading to a makeshift firework display that George was already fussing over.

A stack of colourful rockets stood ready, haphazardly tied together in what could only be described as a precarious masterpiece.

As your head tilted to stare up at the stars overhead, Fred slipped his hand into yours, his fingers warm and rough against your own. He guided you towards the edge, his arm curling around your waist, pulling you to his side as the first firework shot into the air with a loud crack—it exploded in a burst of crimson and gold, lighting up the sky.

Fred leaned down, his voice soft in your ear. “You know, it doesn’t matter what resolutions you make this year.” His tone was so different from his usual teasing—gentle and sincere. “As long as you’re with me, that’s all I’ll ever need.”

The weight of his words settled in the air around you, and for a moment, you forgot about the cold or the impending war that loomed on the horizon. You turned to him, standing on your toes to press your lips to his. He tasted like butterbeer and laughter, his lips warm against yours despite the chill in the air.

Around you, the fireworks continued to burst in brilliant waves of colour—and when you finally pulled away, Fred was grinning again, his lopsided smile even more dazzling in the firework-lit night. “Next year,” he said, his tone edging back into a familiar playfulness, “I resolve to make you laugh at least twice as much. Shouldn’t be too hard—I’m brilliant, you know.”

“You’re something, alright,” you replied, shaking your head at him fondly. The words were laced with affection, and Fred clearly heard it, because he squeezed your hand tighter.

“Happy New Year, love,” he murmured, his voice low and steady.

“Happy New Year, Fred,” you replied, leaning into his warmth as another firework burst overhead, painting the night sky in silver and blue. For this one perfect moment, the world felt safe and whole, and the future could wait until tomorrow.