#fred Weasley drabble

[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."

[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?”

ੈ♡˳

[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!

[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]

cuddles with a needy fred weasley

-🍄

c â l i n e t

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- fred weasley

a/n: caline means to embrace, and it sounded fitting. latley i feel like i need a hug right now but its going to be allright. this was inspired by something happened in a dream with love, tiya

requested- yes

warnings- unexperienced writer, not thoroughly edited

Fred Weasley just adored picking the most obnoxious and utterly stupid topics to fight over. it was a love language, just a one you haven't uncoded yet but he was more than ready to wait. He just adored seeing you perplexed and infuriated with him, he just loved how all of your attention was put in to prove him wrong.

But this time it didn't play as to Freddy's hand. It usually was a small disagreement and it led to noting problematic.

You found yourself going out of the way to not look at him, touch him, or even being near him. You wanted to, you really did but you felt a heavy sense of hatred whenever he flashed that devilishly hansome smile of his. you ought to pour a bucket of chillies on him, lord.

it was'nt his intention that the fight to hit a spot, he just wanted to see that annoyed look that made him skip a beat. well, what not a better time to take the situation into his own hands.

Friday, last period where you had herbology with professor Sprout while he had a free. She had to pass the courtyard if she planned on leaving the class and that would be exactly where he would stand waiting.

You noticed him, you always notice him first. He had his robe on the grass, and his sleeves roled. he was supported by the bench and was manspread taking all the space.

But before you had the chance to get away he pulled you on your wrist, the movement caught you off balance and you found yourself on his lap.

"i'm sorry, i did'nt know you'd get angry darlin, it was just to see you annoyed"

"why do you always go out of the way to get me so upset?"

he couldn't answer that, atleast not to her face. they lived in ignorance and they woul'dnt thrive if they aknowledged their feelings.

"I am not sitting on your lap, did you miss the part where I'm mad at you?"

"you can sit on my lap and be mad at me my love."

he put his hands around her waist and brought her closer while taking her book bag and gently placing it on the floor.

"shutup and hold me"

[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).

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- 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.”

[waratah-moon]

“And these ones are-“ Fred was in the middle of demonstrating the skiving snackbox when he caught sight of his girlfriend in his periphery. She was walking across the courtyard with Angelina and Alicia, her potions bag tucked under her arm. He turned his attention away from the first years, “Oi Y/L/N!” Fred yelled, causing Y/N to start and raise her eyebrows at him. “You look stunning.” Y/N smirked and continued walking to her class. Fred turned his attention back to the first years, now grinning, “that’s my girlfriend.” 

masterlist

[emeritusemeritus]

Nice sweater. [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Image found on Pinterest.

Title: Nice Sweater

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader (established relationship)

Timeline: Non-specified. Set after Christmas break.

Summary: Draco tries to wind you up about your handmade sweater from Molly and gets firmly put in his place.

Warnings: Draco being antagonistic. Derogatory comments about wealth. Mentions of shagging. Brief mentions of physical abuse and scars.

It was the first week back after Christmas break and you were thankful that Saturday had eventually rolled around as the early morning starts, hard classes and already mounting homework had taken some re-adjusting to. You'd spent the two weeks of Christmas break at the Burrow with your boyfriend Fred and his family, just as you had for the previous two years and it was both fun and relaxing at the same time, a perfect break from your usual school routine.

"Morning y/n," Hermione says as she walks into the great hall, sitting down at the table in front of you as she fills her glass full of pumpkin juice. Your sleep schedule had been thoroughly thrown off by the holidays and you'd groaned as you shot awake way before you needed to this morning, not able to get back to sleep. You'd begrudgingly dragged yourself out of bed and gotten dressed in thick, warm layers before taking a small walk around the grounds as the sunrise bloomed over the hills, the sun waking up with you.

You'd been early to breakfast, arriving at the deserted hall even before breakfast had started and so you slipped away into the kitchens and had managed to acquire a cup of tea that one of the busy house elves had placed onto the Gryffindor table for you with an accommodating and very appreciated snap of their fingers. You'd pulled out your book and had read a few chapters whilst drinking your cup of tea before the breakfast had magically appeared on the tables promptly at 7am.

"Morning Hermione," you greeted with a tired smile, still feeling as if you were waking up slowly. You chatted for a while as you both ate breakfast before some of your other friends turned up. You were just about to leave and go back to your dorm when a familiar presence appeared behind you, placing a kiss to your head as he climbed onto the bench beside you, his identical twin slotting in directly across from him.

"Morning gorgeous," Fred says with a smile, already piling up his plate with golden toast with one hand as the other wraps loosely around your waist from behind.

You noticed he and George were both wearing their new sweaters that Molly had knitted them for Christmas and you had to smile as you looked at your own sweater which was also a christmas gift from Molly and Arthur. Yours didn't have your initial stitched on the front like the others did but rather it was a beautifully intricate design of blended colours in a fair isle style, with multiple geometric patterns running across in various orange, autumnal hues. You'd been so excited to receive a Molly crafted sweater and she had really outdone herself with this one. You always looked forward to her gifts, having received a beautiful scarf last year and a pair of mittens the year before that, both lovingly created by hand.

"Morning Freddie, morning Georgie," you smile as George greets you enthusiastically, much too awake for this time in a morning. You tiredly rest your head on Fred's shoulder as he eats and he responds by stroking your back soothingly as you talk quietly to each other, joining in with the larger group conversation but also running your own little chatter just between the both of you.

"Did you want to come to Hogsmeade with me and George later? Got to pick up some stuff from Zonkos," Fred says as he tucks into his sausages, a smirk on his face at the prospect. "Thought we could get a butter beer or a takeaway tea from Puddifoot's and maybe have a walk to the shrieking shack."

"How romantic," you say sarcastically as he chuckles, nodding his head.

Feeling a chill run over you, you pull the sleeves of your sweater down over your hands, trying to fight of the cold air that circulated around the room.

"Oi Weasel-bee, nice jumper," you heard Draco's whiny voice say from the table behind you, making you roll your eyes. You glanced up at Ron who looked immediately offended but was choosing to ignore him until he spoke up again, "I'm surprised your family could afford all that disgusting wool or does she reuse the same jumpers? That would make them what, fourth-hand at this point?"

"Shove off Malfoy," Ron says with a bite in his voice, turning abruptly back to the table as Harry tries to divert the conversation quickly away.  You can see George is looking angry across the table as he tries to calm himself and Fred beside you is stiff in his seat.

"Oh look, it seems the Weasley's have a new family member they can't afford!" He says, fixing his attention to you, looking at the jumper you were wearing.

"Nice jumper y/l/n," Draco says mockingly.

You simply look up at him with a fakest, most sarcastic smile and tone of voice you could muster and playfully said, "thanks Draco!"

He frowned briefly at your pleasantness before trying again to wind you up, not happy that he didn't get the reaction he wanted.

"So which one are you shagging again? Do their parents really hate you that much to give you that jumper?"

You feel Fred tense even more and you place your hand on his leg under the table to stop him from starting anything, knowing how cross Draco's words would have made him. You briefly catch George's eye, who looks furious, but you wordlessly tell him not to do anything with a subtle look before turning back to Draco.

"Are you deliberately thick?" You ask, raising your eyebrow at him as he blanched at your words, standing up and moving over to the table. "This jumper was a homemade gift from their parents, showing that I've got two sets of parents that love me and care enough to give a thoughtful gift, can you say the same? What did you get for Christmas from yours, more scars on your hand from your dad's stupid cane? Maybe another tailored black suit that shows how little personality you actually have?"

There's silence in the hall as everyone seems to watch your interaction. Draco, falling silent for a few seconds suddenly huffs and walks away muttering under his breath with Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy trailing behind him like faithful sheep.

Your friends all erupt in cheers at your little victory and you laugh at them as you take a sip of pumpkin juice.

"Which one am I shagging," you laugh, "that's a new one."

[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.”

ੈ♡˳

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

can you do a really fluffy slightly angsty friends to lovers with fred weasley? maybe he confesses at the burrow like he's so frustrated that he's kept it in for so long and basically just lets it all out and reader is shocked and just hugs him and whispers "i love you" or something? Sorry if this is too specific. <333

Thank you for sending this one in! And sorry it took so long <3 I hope you like it!

Fred Weasley x (gn) Reader

This is it.

The end of your friendship.

The confusion written all over your face tells him. The way your eyes widened in shock when the words left his mouth tells him. Those stupid words. He managed to bury them inside him for weeks, months, years,  and now they decided to claw their way back to the surface? Now? At his brothers wedding? In the midst of a war?

I’m in love with you.

The melody of a fast-paced song laced with laughter and the hum of conversations floats inside the otherwise silent kitchen of the burrow. Your hands hover over a tray of bewitched cakes Molly asked you to bring. A special gift for the bride and groom, a family tradition involving the dessert and some sort of game you’ve never heard of.

You’re frozen. And Fred wants to run. Or fly. He wants to call for his broom and fly into the dark night sky – away from the burrow, away from the rejection, away from the damn country. Instead he’s frozen too.

You speak first. “Is this a prank?”

His heart plummets. “What?” There’s a croak in his voice and he clears his throat.

“Is this a prank, Fred?” You repeat the question. “Because if it is, I-” You stop mid-sentence. “We’re best friends, Fred. Have been since the day I met you on the Hogwarts Express, please tell me you’re not joking about-” Again, you stop. Then you blink and turn your head, staring outside the window to the wedding tent, blinking away … tears?

Shit. He made you cry. He couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut and now you’re crying because of him. Shit, shit, shit. “It’s not a prank”, Fred says quickly. “I … I’m sorry, I …”

The hug comes out of nowhere. You close the distance between the two of you so quickly, he has no chance to react. He stumbles backwards against the kitchen counter and there you are – in his arms, holding onto him so tightly, the familiar scent of your perfume tingling in his nose. The two of you had hugged a million times over the past years and yet, this one feels different. He wraps his arms around your waist, suddenly scared to let you go again.

And then he hears you whisper: “I love you, too.”

Harry Potter Masterlist

[upindreamland]

Happy Birthday my love - Fred Weasley

Fred Weasley x female!reader (she!her pronouns) one shot

Summary: Fred makes your birthday one you’ll never forget. (fluff!!!)

Warnings: me jumping back and forth between you and I. Also off canon

AN: HELLOOOO everybody. Hope you’re doing great! Soooooo it’s my birthday!! And I couldn’t help but write something. Sorry I haven’t been active. Life’s been crazy. To everyone that put in a request I promise I’ll get to them!! As always thank you for the support and enjoy!

———————

“Fred Weasley you better put that icing DOWN!”

Were the words I yelled at my boyfriend the moment that smirk appeared on his face.

Since the moment we woke up, Fred has been by my side like we were attached at the hip. Throughout our relationship birthdays have always been something we put all of our energy into. Trying to one up each other from the one before. So for this birthday, he was insistent on making this the best one ever.

Fred decided that the first thing we were going to do was bake me a birthday cake together, not fully thinking it through. The thing is, Fred and I are horrible bakers… magic can’t even help us.

At this point we were lucky enough to have gotten to the decorating stage without much trouble.

However, Fred was quickly trying to change that.

“Aw come on Y/N. A little icing won’t kill you”

Rolling my eyes at him I focused my attention back on the lopsided cake. Big mistake.

Right when I was about to say something, Fred squeezed the piping bag causing icing to land on my face and in my hair.

Standing there shocked for a second I could hear Fred chuckle. That was quickly replaced though with his coughing after I threw the closest thing at him - flour.

That was all it took for our whole kitchen and ourselves to be covered in flour.

“Okay! Okay! I surrender.” Fred said frantically as I was about to grab another handful of flour.

“You sure…” I couldn’t help but be skeptical. I’ve fallen for this trick one too many times with him.

“Yes I’m sure. If I want you to be ready for the next part of your birthday celebration I should probably let you get ready.”

Seeing that he was being truthful I took off my apron (not that it helped much) and made my way to the stairs.

Before I went up I called back to him “Do I get any hints?”

“Nope! But I will tell you to wear that white sunflower dress!” He yelled back.

As I made my way up to our room the first thing my mind went to was a picnic but I quickly shot that idea down since he did that 2 years ago and I knew he wasn’t one for repeats.

While I was getting ready, Fred was in the kitchen trying to finish decorating the cake. Once he thought it looked okay he packed it up and walked upstairs so he could get ready too.

While you were waiting for Fred to come get you for the next part of your birthday celebration you couldn’t help but reflect on your time together. You were so lucky to have someone who gave his all to you. You both jumped into this relationship without thinking it through and you were so thankful you did.

“Okay Y/N you almost ready to head out?” Fred called out from the closet

“Yeah! Let me just put my shoes on.” I replied getting off the bed.

“Take your time. I have to grab the cake.” He said leaving the room.

Before going down to get it though, Fred walked to the guest bedroom and went straight for the top drawer. Once the velvet box was secured he went to get the cake.

“Okay Y/N! Are you ready?” He said holding out his hand for me to grab.

“Ready.” Right after saying that I felt the familiar squeezing feeling as we apparated to wherever Fred was thinking of.

When I felt my feet hit the ground, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. However when they did I couldn’t help but smile. We were at the Burrow.

The exterior was decorated by a floating sign that read Happy Birthday Y/N. The door was wide open and I could hear the music and chatter coming from inside.

“There’s the birthday girl!” I hear someone yell when Fred and I enter

“Dad!? Omg what are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it” You asked in shock

“We wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world honey” my mom came up with my older brother following behind.

“I’m so happy you’re here” I said as I went in for a group hug. What I didn’t see though was my dad winking at my boyfriend.

It was a pretty intimate setting. The only people there were both of our families and some of our friends.

“Aw Y/N you look wonderful dear” Molly Weasley said, coming up to where Fred and I stood.

“Thank you. I’m so excited to be able to spend my birthday with you guys”

For the rest of the night we all ate food, shared stories, and laughed until crying. When it was time to cut the cake, I was pleasantly surprised with how good Fred was able to decorate it.

When everyone was full of food. Fred decided that he was ready.

“Let’s open presents!” Fred said excitedly with a little bit of nervousness.

The first person that went was George.

“Happy womb escape day Y/N.” He said while handing me the gift

He got me a camera that instantly prints moving photos.

Next up was my brother. He got me a book I have always wanted to read.

It continued like this until Fred was the last one to go.

All of a sudden I could feel Fred tighten up next to me. I looked at him confused but that’s quickly replaced with shock when I see what he got me.

It was a scrapbook full of memories. There were ones from our childhood to Hogwarts to moving into our apartment.

Tears were coming to my eyes looking back on everything Fred and I have done together. When I flipped to the last page I was a little confused to see the page blank with only the title being ENGAGED. Looking over at Fred I couldn’t help but gasp.

He was holding the prettiest ring ever.

“Y/N L/N, will you marry me?”

Everyone looked at us with wide expectant gazes.

I knew at that moment the only response was,

“YES!”

The room erupted into applause and shouts. Fred put the ring on and we shared a deep kiss. Right when that happened I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye.

When Fred and I pulled away George came up to us with the picture he took of us kissing with my ring shining due to the flash. We took it from him and stuck it onto the page. It was now complete.

“Happy Birthday my love” Fred whispered in my ear as we let the moment sink in.

You definitely didn’t expect your birthday to end like this. You weren’t complaining though.

For the rest of the night you all had another reason to celebrate into the late night. Along with thinking of how excited you were for the future with Fred, all you could think about was how hard it would be to beat this for his birthday.

—————

AN: Okay that’s it!! I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you thought and feel free to make a request. Thanks again!! 🫶

[cosmic-glow]

Notes: Challenged to spend the night in the cemetery during Halloween, you are surprised to find company until dawn.

Warnings: Fred x gn!reader; mention of anxiety; small plot at the end; SFW.

It was a stupid idea, for an even more stupid joke, you felt stupid for doing it, there were too many "stupid" for just one sentence and yet you continued with the challenge. Of all the games you could have suggested for the group, you had to choose "Truth or Dare", as if that couldn't turn against you, brilliant. Now here you were, holding your leather jacket tightly around your body and trying to figure out how you were going to get into the cemetery so late at night without being seen, truly incredible.

With momentum and strength that made your arms shake as you had to pull your own weight, you jumped over the wall and cursed your entire group of friends for putting you in this situation. Luckily for you - if had any luck in being in all this - there was no one in the cemetery to catch you, everything was very silent, with a strange fog covering the graves, the only light that illuminated the place was the moonlight and some streetlights that were too far away from each other. A shiver ran through your body as you walked between the tombs and realized that the only ones in that cemetery were you and the dead.

It was better to get it over with, you pulled out your cell phone and turned on the camera, a photo would be enough to convince them that you spent the whole night there, then you found a way to get rid of the locator spell that revealed the place you were in last hours. Finding a position that illuminated your face well but still showed the cemetery behind you, you pressed the button while giving the camera the middle finger, you just wanted to leave as quickly as possible. Your eyes closed at the surprise flash, you swore it had turned off.

- Who is the photo for?

A male voice asked and made you jump and look in the direction, right next to you was a tall boy, probably a few years older than you, with wild red hair and a curious smile and look. Where did he come from? And how did he approach without making a sound? You immediately pulled out your wand in fear of the unknown, who seemed too strange for you.

- Who are you?!

- Hey, calm down, calm down! My name is Fred, Fred Weasley, I was also a student at Hogwarts, I won't do you any harm, I just wanted to know what a freshman was doing in the cemetery - he raised his hands helplessly.

- I'm not a freshman! And how can I be sure you won't do anything?

- My wand is in my pocket, if you want you can take it, I just want to talk.

You walked over and placed your wand against his neck while you took the one from the boy's pocket and put it in your jacket. In one quick movement you moved away from him, lowering your wand but still not putting it away. Fred rubbed his neck, still in shock. Silently, he took a small step back and sat down on the nearest tombstone.

- You're badass... I think I was wrong to worry, but after all, what the hell are you doing alone in the cemetery at this hour?

- First you tell me, after all, it seems to me that you are in the same situation.

- The party I was at ended later than I expected, I didn't get a ride so I was walking home when I saw someone jumping over the cemetery wall - he revealed and it seemed true.

- I was challenged to spend the night in the cemetery, when dawn I can leave - you put away your wand.

- How stupid... - you agreed but didn't say - ... Aren't you afraid of seeing a ghost? - a smile appeared on his face.

- I'm not afraid of ghosts.

- And angels?

- Why would anyone be afraid of angels?

- Yeah, I said it without thinking - he shrugged and stood up - Well, then I'll leave. Was a pleasure to meet you.

- No! Wait! - you said without even thinking and the smile on his face increased - I still have your wand... - disguised.

- Oh, that's true, I forgot.

He approached you with his hand outstretched, waiting for you to give it back to him, and you were about to give it back, but you hesitated. A better idea popped into your mind, at the last second you pulled the wand back to you and put it away.

- I will return your wand on one condition.

- Condition? The wand is mine!

- If you help me remove this locator spell, I'll give it back to you and we can get out of here - you imposed.

- Locator spell? - he laughed loudly - There's no way to remove a locator spell! You have to wait for the duration to end.

- What do you mean there's no way to take it off!? - you widened your eyes.

- Yes, I'm really sorry, now can you give me my wand back?

You looked down at your feet feeling even more stupid for having accepted all of this, you thought and thought but no idea that could get you out of this without being ridiculed came up, before anxiety could take over you raised your head with determination.

- No. You will spend the night here with me.

- What?! I have nothing to do with this!

- That's because you scared me, when dawn comes I'll give you your wand back and we'll get out of here.

Fred stared at you in disbelief, thinking of several great names to call you with the anger he felt. With an irritated sigh or grunt - it was hard to tell - he turned his back to you and walked away. Now it was you who was in disbelief and ran after him, "where are you going?!" You called but he didn't answer you. When you found him, Fred was resting on top of a grave, arms crossed.

- Fred?

- Do you want me to wait? Okay, but I'm not going to stay upright until dawn - you laughed and sat on the tomb next to him.

- Thanks for staying.

- As if I had much choice.

For a long time, the two of you stayed like that, sitting on top of the tombs side by side, waiting for the sun in silence. There was a cold breeze that sent shivers down the back of your neck from time to time, making you cross your arms tighter against your body. Fred didn't seem to mind that much, his thoughts were far away.

- Can I say something? - he said suddenly, breaking the long silence, almost scaring you.

- Yes.

- You have terrible friends, I would never let a friend stay in the cemetery alone, never! - he seemed really angry for you.

- You can't talk much, none of your friends gave you a ride and now you're in the cemetery too.

- Yeah, I'm, right...? - he said more to himself than to you - I think we both have shitty friends - you laughed.

- ... I would have given you a ride - he looked at you.

- ... Thanks - he smiled.

The conversation between you after that started shyly, but soon you were both laughing. Fred was actually very funny, and even though he had every reason to be mad at you, he chose to forget about it and make you laugh. He preferred to ask about how things were at Hogwarts now than to frown until the first ray of sunlight appeared. He told you about the school's secret passages, about the incredible things he invented and how he gave the teachers trouble when he was a student, how he always had a prank ready for each of them. Fred listened to you talk about the things you had done too and smiled every time you were proud that you hadn't been caught. In the end, to your surprise, you were very similar, even if still different.

Only when you ran out of topics did notice that the sun had already risen, he then got up from the stone tomb and stretched.

- Let's go? We have to take advantage of the fact that no janitor or anything like that has arrived yet to catch us.

Agreeing, you got up and followed the path he took, arriving at a gate that was very well locked. Fred looked at you and held out his hand and he didn't need to say anything for you to understand that he wanted the wand. As agreed, you returned it. With a spell that wasn't just a simple Alohomora, Fred managed to unlock the gate.

- George and I invented this spell when we were still in 5th grade.

- Who is George? - he was silent for a while.

- An old friend - he said and opened the gate, which creaked.

Maybe it was all in your head, but the outside of the cemetery seemed to have a much lighter air. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, realizing how tired you were and just wanted to get back to your dorm before a teacher or monitor noticed you were missing.

- Well, then I'll go, it was nice talking to you, Y/n - Weasley announced.

- Ah, yes, it was nice talking to you too, thanks for the company...

But when you opened your eyes and turned to him there was no one, how had he disappeared so quickly? It was just a matter of seconds. You found it really strange but you didn't think about it too much, wizards disappearing in the blink of an eye was considerably normal, maybe a little rude, but normal. Shrugging and starting to go on your way, you pulled your cell phone out of your pocket to check how the photo you took had turned out. And at that time something really strange happened. In the photo there was only you, there was no one next to you, nothing, not a single strand of Fred's red hair appeared in the photo even though he was right next to you at the moment you took it. But as the flash was on, something behind you lit up and shone, you zoomed in to get a better look. On the tombstone behind you was a photo that reflected the light, and just below was engraved the name: Fred Weasley (April 1, 1978 – May 2, 1998). His voice echoed in your mind: "Aren't you afraid of seeing a ghost?... And an angel?" A shiver ran through your body when understood what had just happened.

Sorry for any typos;

Buy me a coffee?

October Calendar;

Masterlist

[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.

[sleepparalysisdemon112]

Chasing After You

warnings:none

summary: Fred has made it his goal to get with the good girl, and deep down she wants him too.

part 1?? maybe- 

A/n I know this isn’t hotd but I love Harry Potter so... REQUESTS OPEN 

Ever since he met you, he knew he had to have you.

You were too good, too pure, you were a straight A, goody-too-shoes student and that intrigued him, or maybe it was whenever he cracked a joke in class or pulled some insufferable prank on a professor you always seemed to smile, and try to hide it, but he could see. 

So, he made it a goal to get you to like him. He knew you had a boyfriend, but he was a twat anyways, smug and entitled. 

.............

You were walking to your charms class, books in hand and pushing a loose piece of hair behind your ear, when he approached. “That’s a lot of books you have there,” you looked up at the tall redhead, and smiled slightly. “You mean, the ones your supposed to have for this class?” 

“I’m not one for books,” you shook your head, “why don’t you help me? From what I hear, you’re quite the smart one,” he put his hands in his pockets keeping up with your fast pace. “Or you could use the books assigned to you,” you both walked into class, and you sat beside your friend Angela giving her a smile as you opened one of them, he sat next to you placing both hands on the desk and connecting them together. “This isn’t your seat,” you looked at him with an unamused face, “I bet you he won’t notice, and if he doesn’t you have to help me,” 

“And if he does?” you raised your eyebrows, “then I guess I will leave you alone,” “he leaned back in his seat shrugging his shoulders. “Deal,” You tried to ignore how he made you feel, you knew you had a boyfriend, even though it was a loveless affair. Your parents were practically forcing you into this relationship, both of your families were high in the ministry and highly encouraged you two being together, but he was selfish, and rude, you had always watched Fred, but you had a reputation to upkeep, and you didn’t want to lose what you had.

..........

It was the end of class by now, and there he was, still sitting in the same seat, Professor Flitwick not glancing an eye once he moved closer to your ear as you were gathering your books, whispering, he spoke, “see you in the library by, let’s see- 4? Don’t be late,” and with that he smiled and got up. The skin on your neck was now covered in goose bumps, you knew you were going to go, it was a deal, and you always kept your word, but you weren’t going to let it go any farther than studying.

............

You walked into the library and immediately saw the back of his red hair; his foot was tapping hesitantly on the floor. You walked over hesitantly taking in a deep breath and keeping your books close. You sat down across from him, and he smiled widely, “your late, but I’ll let it slide, this time,” you rolled your eyes and placed your charms books down, “This is what you need, and what exactly did you need help with,” he placed his chin on his hand, “why are you with him anyways, he’s such a twat,” you parted your lips, “Weasley, let’s focus on charms, like we agreed on.”

“Fine, fine, but I’m always here you know.” he smiled, and you ignored the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. 

.........

“So, then you just flick your wrist and do exactly what I told you, got it?” you smiled. The session had gone surprisingly well, he actually listened and didn’t get off topic, which surprised you completely. “Yep, got it,” you grinned, maybe you could let your guard down a bit, it wasn’t like letting go a little was going to affect your whole future anyways. “I don’t actually like him, it’s more of a parent pleasing situation,” you said as you gathered your books trying to not look at his face. 

“Ah, I knew it,” he clapped, and you widened your eyes at him, “not so loud,” and you laughed, he actually made you laugh! 

“So then let me take you out, next time we go to Hogsmeade, we can go to the shops together,” his face was full of confidence, and you knew you should say no, but you had always like Fred. Deep down, you enjoyed his pranks, and admired his confidence, you genuinely envied it. “What if he sees?” you tilted your head, “let him,” you shook your head.

“Fine,” his smile almost made you regret it.