#fred weasley x reader

[kpopgirlbtssvt]

SO SWEET

Hiii I love you works so much and wonder if I could request a dad Fred?? Thought it would be cute see Fred with his newborn and how loving he would be to his child while also learning to be a father

Hi Anon! Thank you very much! I agree, I think Fred would be the best dad! Here’s my thoughts… 🖤

Warnings: Dad!Fred, Mum!Reader, mentions of childbirth, breastfeeding, absolute fluff. The formatting is killing me today, sorry for the annoying spaces.

Word count: 900

Milestones

It's quiet and peaceful now, the room mostly dark except for the light glow from the moon pouring in through the window beside where Fred is sat in the leather recliner with his newborn son on his chest. He's shirtless and his son is only wearing a nappy underneath a thick, knitted blanket that had been knitted just for him by his Grammy. There's a sense of peace in this moment, the newest Weasley breathing softly as he snoozes in the crook of his daddy's arms, the large hands holding him protectively as he sings softly to the little boy, a song he remembers from his own childhood. The thin red hair that his son had inevitably been born with is mostly hidden under his little knitted hat but even without his family's signature look, he can tell that this is his son, the perfect blend of both mummy and daddy.

The baby's lips keep moving in his sleep, plump, pink and ever so slightly parted as he sucks on nothing, thinking of milk even in his sleep.

He knows that the little one will be awake soon, crying out for his food but until then, Fred is going to lap up every second of blissful silence he can.

He looks over at you in the bed, sleeping soundly with the ghost of a smile on your face as you finally get to sleep on your back for the first time in months. He smiles then, happy to watch you sprawled out on the bed having a very well deserved sleep after tirelessly bringing his child into the world. Your wedding rings glint in the light of the moon, catching Fred's attention with their sparkle and as he looks between you and his son, he can't believe this is even real, that this is his life. He loves you both so much that it feels like his heart actually hurts, like it could burst at any second.

The little one in his arms begins to stir and the peacefulness Fred had felt only minutes ago is replaced by anxiety by what was to come. Would he feed easily or would he struggle to latch? Could he calm him, shush him in the right way? Was he holding him right? It seemed as soon as his son began to stir, the nerves crept up, still unsure of how to do his new role.

"Freddie?" A voice asks for him softly and he looks up to you just as the little one lets out his first little cry, fists clenched tight beside his body as he battles to get them near his mouth.

"Pass him here handsome," you say, beginning to sit up on the bed. You still sound so tired and Fred feels guilty all of a sudden that he couldn't do more, that he couldn't take over and just let you rest. But you don't seem to mind, reaching out for your shared little bundle with open arms and a motherly smile that Fred thinks is your best look yet. Little Weasley instantly starts rooting as soon as he's placed against your chest and you quickly slither out of your top and try to align your breast with his mouth and after a couple of moments, he gets it. You smile in relief as you feel him suckling and turn to look at Fred who looks on in concern.

"He's got it," you say with a smile as Fred perches himself on the side of the bed, keeping both of you close, his arm naturally falling across your shoulders as you lean your head back to rest on his chest.

Fred knew all about the milestones that are significant to a baby's development, he'd read about it in the book his mum had given him and he'd heard his siblings talking about the crawling, the walking, the babbling. When he first saw his son roll at four months a sense of pride filled him that he'd never felt before, beaten only by the first steps he'd taken only 6 months later. You'd rushed down the stairs to the shop with little Weasley in your arms, beaming with tears trailing down your face as you dragged him into the office to show daddy what his son had just accomplished. The first time he sat up, the first smile, the first real giggle, they were all imprinted onto Fred's memory forever, some of his happiest moments. When he first heard his son say 'da' for the first time, it was like the world had suddenly turned to technicolour, like no other sound could ever compare. But he never expected those extra milestones that broke his heart along the way. The first time they reach out to be picked up, the way they suddenly fit on your hip rather than being cradled, the little scoot backwards as they climb into your lap for another story.

It was the hardest job in the world, throwing in a busy job that required innovation and creativity and a marriage that they worked hard to keep passionate and fun. Fred never doubted his ability to be a good dad, he learned from the best, but it was a job filled with responsibility and anxiety that sometimes felt a little overwhelming but the love would always be there.

[badger-tales]

Fire and Honey//F.W x reader

🚨WARNING: SMUT MINORS DNI, use of potion and unprotected sex🚨

a/n: Guys you have no idea how much I love Fred and I genuinely think this is one of my most favourite fics I’ve written!!! Again I’m not too good at writing smut imo but I gave it a solid shot!!! Also I want to put it out there that I’ve never had sex so all my knowledge is strictly from literature!! And for the anon that requested this it’s not super kinky I do apologise but there is potion use!!!

request: Fred Weasley x reader PLEASEEEEEE (afab/maybe plus size reader if that’s not too much to ask but not necessary). Preferably smut, BUT I’ll take anything (literally anything cuz I love some good angst/fluff). I just can’t find any kind of content ab him that fits my preferences since it’s been 4 years since hp blew up and he’s my current obsession 😩😩 btw if it’s smut, plsplspls make it kinky - anal, potions/spell use, toys, crazy positions, etc and maybe whatever you’d like to add!

word count: 8.3k

The chime of the small brass bell above the door to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes rang out, its cheerful trill slicing through the animated hum that permeated the air inside. You stepped over the threshold, and immediately, the shop’s warmth enfolded you like an embrace, the familiar swirl of chaos and laughter welcoming you back into its fold. The heady scent of sugar mingled with an unmistakable tang of smoke and the subtle, sparkly edge of enchantment. It was a symphony of sensations that spoke of mischievous pranks and the gleeful pandemonium that could only be found in the heart of Diagon Alley.

Everywhere you looked, the shop was alive with movement and color. Shelves crammed with whirring, clinking, and chattering objects towered around you, each vying for attention with dazzling, enchanted displays. A child’s giggle rang out as a pocket-sized dragon made of candy belched tiny, harmless flames, and the sudden puff of orange smoke lingered in the air, leaving behind the faint aroma of caramelized sugar.

George Weasley, with his signature ginger hair gleaming like a flame, stood at the front counter. He was leaning forward, animatedly explaining the finer points of Fanged Frisbees and Decoy Detonators to a group of wide-eyed students, their expressions torn between wonder and awe. His booming laughter filled the room, bouncing off the polished wood and sparking even more joy around him. His eyes crinkled in genuine amusement as he gestured with both hands, exaggerating some tale or another.

But the moment he spotted you making your way past a small, precariously teetering pile of Puking Pastilles, his face split into a grin that spoke of shared memories and easy camaraderie. “(Y/N)! Haven’t seen you in ages!” His voice was as warm and bright as a summer afternoon, pulling a smile to your own lips despite yourself.

You opened your mouth to respond, navigating carefully around the pastilles that seemed ready to topple with the slightest provocation, when a voice cut in from behind a towering stack of multicolored boxes. It was a voice you knew well—velvet and mischief, with a lilt that never failed to send a flutter through your chest.

“Oi, careful there, wouldn’t want you to trip and fall for me again, now would we?” Fred’s words were drenched in playful sarcasm, his grin appearing just a moment before the rest of him did. He leaned into view, half-hidden by the chaos of exploding novelty fireworks in their bright, gaudy packaging, his hair a riot of red that caught the soft glow of the shop’s enchanted lamps. That grin—half-cocked, knowing, and absolutely infuriating—sparked a memory that made your face warm. Third year, a muddy Quidditch pitch, and the storm that had turned the game into a comedy of slips and scrambles.

You narrowed your eyes at him, arms crossing over your chest in mock indignation. “If I recall correctly, Weasley, it was you who went down first,” you countered, a smirk lifting one corner of your mouth as the memory played out between you like a well-worn scene from an old play.

Fred stepped out from behind the boxes, closing the distance between you in two strides. He looked as he always did—untamed, a perpetual storm of energy. His hair was slightly mussed, evidence of a day spent in relentless activity, and his sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, exposing freckled forearms streaked with faint smudges of flour and the blue-black smears of enchanted ink. You couldn’t help the small, appreciative flicker in your chest at the sight, at the easy way he carried himself as if the world were one big joke he hadn’t quite finished telling.

“Details, details,” he said, waving off your accusation with a casual flourish. But there was something in the way his eyes, dark with amusement, swept over your face, taking you in with a look so familiar it made your heart skip. The glimmer in his gaze was electric, playful, and it sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“But I’m glad to see you’re back,” he continued, and the note of sincerity hidden in the teasing made your stomach flip. “Here to help George, or have you finally decided to give in and help me test some of our newest products?” His voice dropped, dipping into a conspiratorial tone that made the space between you feel smaller, the air charged with a hundred unsaid things. He leaned in, just a touch, enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him and catch the faint, woody scent of broom polish and something uniquely Fred.

The room seemed to blur at the edges, the rest of the shop and its noise fading into a distant hum. It was just him, and the lingering pause where both of you waited to see who would break the moment first.

You chuckled, the sound light and familiar as it filled the small space between you, a warmth unfurling in your chest at Fred’s nearness. It was the kind of warmth that seeped into your bones and made your skin tingle, a secret heat reserved for moments like this—unexpected, charged, and sweetly unsettling. “George roped me in,” you said, the corners of your mouth lifting as you bit your lower lip, a teasing gesture that did not go unnoticed. “But I’m fairly certain that testing any of your experiments would have me checking in at St. Mungo’s faster than you could say ‘Fainting Fancies.’”

Fred’s smirk deepened, eyes glinting like molten copper beneath the shop’s enchanted lamps. The shadows played across his face, highlighting the sharp cut of his cheekbones and the hint of a dimple that only appeared when he was especially pleased with himself. “Can’t argue with that,” he said, voice dropping into that husky, conspiratorial tone that always made your pulse dance. The slight wink he tossed in your direction was almost too much, a playful punctuation that left the air crackling between you.

For a moment, the world around you seemed to dim, the noise and bustle of the shop fading into a muffled backdrop. The energy between you hummed, an invisible thread that had connected you both for years—woven from quick-witted exchanges that left your hearts thumping, subtle brushes of hands that lingered a heartbeat longer than necessary, and stolen glances that spoke in a language neither of you dared put to words. This was how it always was: a dance, a game, an endless conversation that teetered on the edge of something more.

Before either of you could break the silence, George’s voice pierced the moment, booming from across the shop where he stood surrounded by boxes and half-finished contraptions. “Fred, if you’re done trying to charm (Y/N), I could use your help with the Skiving Snackboxes!” His tone was loud and mock-exasperated, but it carried a fondness that only a brother could manage.

Fred’s eyes rolled dramatically, but a reluctant smile tugged at his lips as he turned to glare at George. The momentary interruption broke the spell, but not the tension. His gaze swung back to you, the spark in it now softened to something almost tender, almost shy. “Duty calls,” he said, but his voice dipped, wrapping around the words as if they were meant only for you. “But don’t go anywhere, yeah?” It wasn’t a question so much as a quiet request, laced with a sincerity that sent your heart stumbling over its next beat.

A blush rose to your cheeks, warm and unbidden, and you nodded, unable to keep the smile from breaking across your face. “Not planning on it,” you answered, the words feeling like a promise, light but solid.

As Fred turned away, the spell wasn’t completely broken. His movements, usually quick and purposeful, seemed to linger as if he, too, felt the weight of what had passed between you. Your eyes followed him as he crossed the shop, and though the chaos of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes buzzed around you—shelves bursting with colorful, enchanted goods and the soft puffs of smoke from a forgotten trick candle—it wasn’t the spark of magic that captured your attention.

It was him. The subtle shift of his shoulders beneath his shirt, the way he glanced back at you just once, his eyes holding yours for a heartbeat before he turned away. The look was fleeting, but it spoke volumes: anticipation, unsaid words, and the easy familiarity of someone who knew you better than most. It settled between you like a shared secret, leaving the room feeling both too small and brimming with possibilities.

The laughter of a nearby child and the sudden pop of a Decoy Detonator brought you back to the present, but the lingering warmth of Fred’s gaze refused to fade. It stayed with you, a whisper of promise and a question left unanswered, weaving itself into the fabric of the moment and making your chest ache with a kind of happy, hopeful longing.

The last dregs of sunlight bathed Diagon Alley in a honeyed glow, casting long, golden streaks that stretched through the tall front windows of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. The shop, usually a riot of chatter and clatter, had fallen into an almost sacred silence. The laughter and footsteps that had filled the space earlier were gone, leaving only the occasional creak of wood and the soft rustle of your breath. You sat perched on a stool behind the counter, its surface polished smooth by years of bustling activity. The warm glow of the enchanted lamps flickered around you, casting playful shadows that made the shelves seem to dance, each jar and trinket catching the light and shimmering like captured stars.

George had finished his closing routine hours ago, with a grin and a cheerful comment about meeting Angelina before disappearing into the night, the final echo of the door’s bell trailing after him like a sigh. Now, it was just you and Fred, and the quiet of the shop seemed deeper, filled with an undercurrent that made your skin prickle.

Fred stood a few paces away, leaning against the counter with a kind of effortless grace that drew your eyes. The soft, amber light spilled over him, highlighting the tousled red of his hair and the way it caught on the line of his jaw. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, revealing freckled forearms that spoke of summer days spent under the sun and long hours tinkering with inventions. The freckles, scattered like a constellation, followed the gentle curve of his muscles, a detail that held your attention a moment too long.

His eyes met yours, glancing up from the rows of small, glittering bottles he was carefully aligning. They flicked back to the task at hand, but not before you caught the glint of mischief that had become as familiar to you as your own heartbeat. The silence between you was thick with the unspoken—shared jokes, stolen glances, moments that had tiptoed to the edge of something deeper but never quite crossed.

“So, (Y/N),” Fred finally said, breaking the stillness with that voice that always seemed to balance somewhere between playful and daring. There was a spark in his tone that made your fingers tighten against the counter’s edge. “Ever wonder what happens when the shop closes?”

A smirk pulled at your lips as you tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “I’d hazard a guess that it involves you and George setting off fireworks or testing things that’ll inevitably get you on the Ministry’s bad side.” Your voice was steady, teasing, but there was a thrum in your chest that spoke of anticipation.

Fred’s chuckle was low, warm, and impossibly magnetic. It rippled through the quiet, settling in your bones and sending a pleasant shiver racing down your spine. He straightened, pushing away from the counter with a languid ease and crossing the distance between you in a few strides. When he stopped, he was close enough that you had to tip your chin up to meet his gaze, the small space between you charged with a current that seemed to hum just beneath your skin.

“Well, tonight, you’re in luck,” he murmured, eyes crinkling at the corners as they locked onto yours. The way he looked at you—like he was memorizing the curve of your lips and the light in your eyes—made your breath catch. He lifted one hand, and in it, a small vial glimmered, the liquid inside a mesmerizing swirl of gold that reflected the light like liquid sun.

Your pulse quickened, thrumming against your ribs like a wild drumbeat. Fred’s expression softened, watching you with a kind of quiet intensity as if this moment were something rare. “And what exactly is that?” you asked, trying to keep your voice from betraying the way your heart raced. You could feel it—a flutter of nerves mixed with the sharp spike of excitement. The question hung between you, heavy with curiosity and the promise of the unexpected.

His gaze dipped to your lips for a heartbeat before returning to your eyes, a knowing smile curving his mouth. “Something special,” he said, voice lowering to a near whisper, sending warmth cascading through you. The words seemed to tangle in the air between you, waiting, tempting, as the moment stretched like a taut string, ready to snap.

“A little something we’ve been working on. Enhances your senses,” Fred said, his voice dipping to a softer, almost velvet tone that seemed to wrap around you like a whisper in the dark. The shop, with its kaleidoscope of bright colors and enchanted trinkets, suddenly seemed dimmer, the space between you charged with a heat that made the air feel thick. “Every touch, every sound, everything becomes sharper,” he continued, the promise in his words igniting a spark low in your belly.

You swallowed hard, the room shrinking until it felt as if the walls were pressing in, leaving just the two of you caught in this magnetic pull. Fred leaned in closer, the subtle scent of him—a mix of cedar, smoke, and something uniquely Fred—enveloping you. His proximity was dizzying, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips, even as your pulse quickened. “Fred, is this one of those things where I end up with purple hair for a week?” you asked, aiming for humor to steady yourself, though your voice came out shakier than intended.

“No side effects,” he said, his grin widening into a playful smirk, eyes glinting with a mix of sincerity and that irresistible touch of mischief that always seemed to dance there. He leaned in, his breath brushing against your cheek, close enough that you felt the warmth of it. “I swear on my broomstick. Trust me, love?”

The question settled between you, weighted and electric, the words hanging like a challenge. The way he looked at you then—eyes dark, mouth barely a breath away from yours—made the room tilt. You felt the question reverberate in the thrum of your heart, in the way your skin seemed to hum under the golden glow of the lamps. Slowly, you nodded, the playful tension that had danced between you all evening sparking into something deeper, something more.

Fred’s smile shifted, a flicker of warmth softening the sharp edge of his grin as he uncorked the vial, the sound of it popping open far louder than it should have been. The glimmering gold liquid caught the light, refracting tiny prisms that seemed to shimmer with possibility. His eyes never left yours as he handed you the vial, fingers brushing yours—a fleeting touch that sent a jolt of warmth up your arm, lingering like an echo.

You lifted the vial to your lips, the cool glass pressing against your skin before the liquid slid over your tongue. It tasted like citrus and starlight, bright and unfamiliar. The heat that followed was immediate, blooming in your chest and spreading outwards, tendrils of fire igniting each nerve ending one by one. You shivered, the sensation both strange and addictive, making the room feel brighter, sharper.

Fred’s eyes darkened as he watched you, his gaze tracing the flush that spread across your cheeks, the way your lashes fluttered as the magic coursed through you. His expression was unreadable for a moment, a blend of fascination and something deeper, almost reverent. “Feel anything yet?” he asked, the words almost a murmur, and as he stepped closer, the space between you seemed to sizzle.

“Yeah,” you whispered, the simple word catching in your throat as your fingertips tingled and your heartbeat drummed loud and insistent in your ears. The room felt alive, each creak of the floorboards, each distant whir of a clock in the corner, amplified. But none of that mattered. It was Fred’s gaze holding you captive, the slow way he reached out and let a single calloused finger trace the line of your jaw, the touch so feather-light it made your breath hitch.

The trail of his touch left a path of fire in its wake, and he leaned in further, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, lingering as if testing the waters. His eyes searched yours, an unspoken question there, an invitation. The charged silence stretched, and the only thing you could hear was the erratic pounding of your pulse. Your breath shuddered as you felt the weight of the moment shift, tipping past the point of return.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice a rich, molten sound that seemed to sink into your skin and light up every nerve. The way he said it was more than a word—it was a promise, dark and thrilling. His fingers cupped your face, the rough pads of his thumb brushing over your cheek in a touch that was somehow both tender and possessive. The warmth of his other arm slipped around your waist, drawing you flush against him until there was no space left, only the intoxicating press of his body, solid and fiercely real.

The heat radiating from him seeped into you, chasing any coherent thought away as his lips found yours. The kiss was not gentle; it was fierce and unapologetic, as if he had waited for this moment longer than he’d admit, a hunger finally given release. His mouth moved over yours with a fervor that left you breathless, a perfect blend of heat and urgency. You responded in kind, fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt, nails digging in enough to make him draw a sharp breath that vibrated between your lips.

The potion’s effects rippled through you, amplifying each shift of his lips, each slide of his tongue, until it felt as though the world itself spun around you. The warmth that had ignited in your chest spread in hot waves, coiling lower, making everything sharper, more vivid. You were dimly aware of the way his hands tightened on you, the flex of his muscles under your touch, before you realized he’d lifted you effortlessly onto the counter. The hard edge bit into the backs of your thighs, grounding you for a moment in the storm of sensation.

Fred’s eyes met yours as he pulled back, his pupils blown wide, dark and smoldering as they roamed over your face. His breath came in ragged pulls, chest heaving with the same urgency you felt. “If this is too much—” he started, voice rough, words catching as if even the question cost him effort.

You shook your head quickly, fingers curling tighter around the back of his neck, tugging him close. “Don’t you dare stop,” you whispered, your voice a low tremble that barely contained the ache surging through you.

His grin was immediate, wicked and laced with satisfaction, a look that made your pulse race faster. “As you wish, love,” he whispered against your lips before claiming them again, deeper this time, with a focus that bordered on worshipful. His hand remained firm at your hip, anchoring you while the other moved, skimming up the curve of your waist. Each brush of his fingers left a trail of heat that made you shiver, anticipation twisting and coiling low in your belly.

His touch dipped to the hem of your skirt, fingers finding purchase and dragging it upward, the scrape of fabric against your skin only adding to the fire building between you. The feel of him, so close, so intent, was a heady mix of desire and reassurance. His hand squeezed your thigh, the pressure enough to make your breath hitch and your heartbeat drum wildly in your chest.

Every moment stretched and blurred, each sensation heightened to a fever pitch. The low rasp of his voice, the press of his hips against yours, and the way his body seemed to fit perfectly against yours made it impossible to think beyond this—beyond him. The world outside the shop dissolved into the background, leaving only the soft glow of the lamps and the charged silence, broken only by shared, breathless gasps.

The anticipation crackled between you, hot and relentless, as Fred’s eyes met yours once more, a silent question and a spark of mischief that promised there was still more to come.

“Stay still,” he commanded softly, the words grazing your ear like the whisper of silk, sending a shiver down your spine. His lips barely brushed the delicate skin just below your earlobe, and the warmth of his breath curled around you, making it hard to hold back the tremor that threatened to break your composure. The command was gentle but unyielding, more than a simple request—it was a promise, binding the air between you with an intensity that made your heart stutter and sent heat pooling deep in your core. Your chest rose and fell in rapid succession as you nodded, eyes closing against the wave of sensation.

Fred’s mouth curved into a satisfied smirk, even as he leaned in, his lips tracing a slow path along the curve of your jaw and down the side of your neck. He moved deliberately, finding the sensitive spots that made your breath catch, each kiss igniting sparks that fanned out like wildfire beneath your skin. The room seemed to narrow to just this—just the heat of him pressed close, the tantalizing brush of his mouth, and the way his stubble grazed your skin with a delicious roughness that made you gasp.

Your back arched involuntarily, the motion instinctive, a silent plea to close the almost unbearable distance between your bodies. Fred’s arm tightened around your waist in response, holding you firm, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. The pressure of his body against yours was intoxicating, and the room spun with the heady mix of desire and the faint crackle of magic that pulsed in the air. Somewhere behind you, a trinket sputtered to life with a faint whir and spark, but the noise barely registered in the haze that enveloped you both.

The only sounds that mattered were the mingling of your breaths, ragged and uneven, and the low hum that resonated in Fred’s throat as he took his time, worshiping the line of your neck with practiced ease. His lips moved lower, tasting and teasing, each deliberate kiss making your skin flush hot under the warm glow of the shop’s lamps. The light wrapped around you like a golden shroud, highlighting the slight sheen on your skin and casting shadows that flickered with the movement of his head as he explored.

Each moment felt sharper, more defined, as if time itself had slowed to savor every detail. The pressure of his arm anchored you, while his other hand found its way up to cradle your jaw, tilting your head just enough to give him better access. The simple touch was possessive, reverent, and it made a new surge of heat coil in your stomach. Your pulse thundered in your ears, drowning out everything but the slick, intoxicating symphony of heartbeats, breath, and the low murmurs that slipped between his lips.

Every second crackled with unspoken possibilities, each heartbeat a testament to the space you occupied together. The rest of the world could have fallen away, leaving just you and Fred and the uncharted territories mapped between skin and whispered commands. Nothing else mattered—not the ticking of clocks, not the fading light outside the shop’s windows, not the lingering echoes of laughter that had once filled the room. All that existed was the tightrope of anticipation that stretched between you and Fred, sparking like embers, daring one of you to push it further.

And as he drew back, just enough for his eyes to find yours, dark and laced with mischief, you knew that this moment was just the beginning.

The shop was bathed in a hush, shadows pooling in the corners and stretching languidly across the floor, broken only by the flickering glow of the enchanted lamps that cast pools of golden light. The world outside was a distant memory; in this space, only the two of you existed, tangled in a moment that defied the ticking of the clock. Your heart thudded hard in your chest, each beat reverberating through your body like a drum, as Fred’s eyes swept over you—dark, intense, brimming with a hunger that made your pulse stutter.

His fingers, warm and roughened from years of crafting jokes and pranks, brushed up the length of your thighs, the touch slow and deliberate. The soft rustle of fabric as he pushed your skirt higher made the air thicken, pressing down on you with a palpable weight. Each breath you drew felt laden, each tiny shift magnified by the lingering effects of the potion coursing through your veins. It was as if every whisper of movement, every brush of skin, sent a jolt of electricity sparking through you, setting your nerves ablaze.

“You’re stunning, you know that?” Fred’s voice was low, a gravelly rumble that seemed to seep into your very skin. The sincerity that threaded through the heat in his tone made something inside you tighten, warmth blooming in your chest and spreading outward until you felt both rooted in place and light as air. The words stole your response before it could form, leaving only the shallow, uneven rise and fall of your breath.

Before you could regain your composure, his lips captured yours again. The kiss was insistent, demanding, and it tasted of longing that had been simmering far too long. It was the kind of kiss that claimed and gave in equal measure, pulling you under so completely that the world around you seemed to blur at the edges. His hand slid behind you, fingers pressing into the small of your back as he drew you even closer, so close that you felt every heartbeat, every tremor, aligned perfectly with his.

“Fred,” you gasped, the name slipping out unbidden as he left your lips to trail a path down your neck. His mouth was hot, each kiss open and searing as it met the sensitive skin, igniting a chain reaction that sent shivers racing over your skin. When he paused at the curve of your collarbone, the faint scrape of his teeth grazing just enough to make your body tense and then melt, a soft sound escaped you, half-whisper, half-sigh.

He lifted his head, eyes meeting yours with a spark of mischief that never fully left him, even in moments like this. “Hmm?” he murmured, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he spoke. His fingers, which had settled on your thigh, began tracing lazy, teasing circles just above your knee, the touch feather-light but potent enough to make your skin hum with the promise of more.

The potion thrummed through you, amplifying everything—the press of his fingertips, the rush of your blood beneath your skin, the heat of his breath as it fanned across your flushed cheeks. The slight rasp of his stubble as it grazed your neck added another layer of sensation, a delicious contrast to the warmth of his lips and the firmness of his hands. Every nerve in your body seemed to wake at once, straining toward his touch, savoring the way he moved, the way he watched you as though memorizing each reaction.

Time was meaningless, measured only by the whispered touches and the silent, shared anticipation that coiled tighter and tighter, leaving you breathless and aching for whatever would come next.

“Stop teasing,” you managed, though the words barely made it past your lips, breathless and edged with desperation. The response came not as mercy but as the sound of Fred’s chuckle, rich and low, vibrating against your skin where his mouth lingered. The sensation rippled through you, sending a shiver racing down your spine, making you clench your thighs in a futile attempt to steady yourself.

“As you wish,” he murmured, the velvet tone a contrast to the glint in his eyes. It was a promise and a challenge all at once, the corners of his mouth curving into a smirk that told you he had no intentions of making this easy. With a confident grace that set your heart pounding, he drew back, hands warm and sure as they gripped your hips, guiding you to the edge of the counter. The cool surface pressed into the backs of your thighs, grounding you as anticipation twisted in your chest.

The room around you seemed to dissolve, swallowed by the soft, golden glow of the enchanted lamps. The only thing that existed was Fred, now dropping to his knees before you, eyes fixed on yours with a look so intense it stole the breath from your lungs. The heat in his gaze, dark and unwavering, sent another rush of warmth through you, coiling low in your belly and spreading out until you felt liquid, pliant under his touch.

He leaned in, and your breath hitched as his mouth skimmed up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The first brush of his lips was gentle, almost reverent, but it didn’t stay that way for long. Each kiss grew firmer, more insistent, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. The potion’s magic coursed through you, sharpening every sensation until the world narrowed to the points of contact where his skin met yours. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, and it made stillness impossible.

Your fingers found their way into his hair, tangling in the unruly, fire-kissed strands and tugging slightly. The low groan that rumbled in his chest resonated through you, sparking a fresh wave of heat that settled low, tight, and wanting. The sound made your pulse race, a quick, erratic drumbeat that echoed in your ears as he paused, lifting his head just enough for his eyes to meet yours.

“Patience,” he said, the single word dripping with a teasing command that both frustrated and thrilled you. His grin was wicked, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief even now, as if this moment was just another game he planned to win. Before you could respond, before you could even draw a proper breath, his head dipped again, and the distance between want and fulfillment disappeared.

When his mouth finally met the place where you ached for him most, the sensation crashed over you like a wave, making you gasp, the sound slipping out before you could stop it. The heat of him, relentless and skilled, combined with the amplified edge of the potion, sent jolts of pleasure singing through your veins. It was impossible to think, to focus on anything but the way he made you feel. Your hands tightened in his hair, the counter digging into your palms as you gripped its edge for stability, a lifeline as your body responded to every deliberate movement.

The soft hum of the shop, the distant clatter of a forgotten gadget sparking in the background, was lost to the rush of your heartbeat and the erratic pattern of your breathing. The tension that had coiled so tightly within you threatened to snap, leaving you trembling, the world around you blurred with the force of sensation. Fred’s hands, firm against your thighs, anchored you, guiding you through the storm, until every nerve in your body sang with the fire only he could ignite.

Fred’s movements were deliberate, each calculated touch and flick designed to strip away your composure piece by trembling piece. His hands, strong and commanding, pressed into your thighs, keeping you open, exposed, and utterly at his mercy. The heat of his palms seared into your skin, grounding you as his mouth worked its magic, tongue tracing intricate, maddening patterns that sent shocks of pleasure racing through your veins. The potion’s effects heightened every sensation, turning each delicate flick and press into a jolt that made your breath stutter, your voice splinter into gasps that broke on his name like a whispered prayer.

Every moment was an exquisite torment, the pressure inside you building relentlessly, coiling tighter and tighter until it bordered on unbearable. The only sounds that reached your ears were the ragged pulls of your breath, the soft rustle of fabric under your quivering fingers, and Fred’s occasional hum of satisfaction, the vibration adding another layer to the storm within you.

“You taste incredible,” he murmured between kisses, his voice rough, the words rolling out like smoke and sparking a new wave of heat that set your nerves alight. His eyes, dark and dilated, flicked up to meet yours, the connection sending a thrill down your spine. Your response was nothing more than a broken moan, caught and lost somewhere between a plea and surrender, as he pushed you closer to that impossible, breathtaking edge. The world around you shrank, fading into a blur until only Fred remained—the feel of him, the taste, the scent—consuming every sense, every thought.

The tension that had been building, wound tight enough to snap, finally did. The release came in a rush, pleasure crashing over you in relentless waves that left you arching against him, your fingers digging into the counter behind you in a desperate bid for stability. The sensation was overwhelming, blinding, a burst of warmth and light that seared through you, leaving you trembling and boneless. Fred stayed with you through it, his hold on your thighs tightening, anchoring you as the tremors rippled out, slowly ebbing into a soft, residual hum that left you dazed and breathless.

You drew in a shaky breath, the rise and fall of your chest erratic as Fred’s strong arms wrapped around you. With an ease that made your pulse quicken, he lifted you off the counter, guiding you towards one of the plush chairs nestled in the corner of the shop. The room felt charged, the remnants of your shared heat thickening the air. The faint glow of the lamps cast shifting pools of light, flickering shadows playing across the walls as if echoing the intensity between you. His eyes never left yours, the dark gleam within them hinting at a promise unfinished, a desire yet to be sated.

Fred sat down, his posture relaxed yet predatory, and pulled you onto his lap in a fluid motion that left you straddling him, knees pressed into the soft cushion on either side of his hips. His hands slid up your sides, the touch roughened by work and warm against your skin, taking the hem of your shirt with them. The anticipation crackled between you, sparking with every inch of fabric that lifted away, baring more of you to the dim light and his admiring gaze.

He paused once the fabric reached your shoulders, his eyes searching yours with a look so intense it stole your breath. The unspoken question in his gaze was met with your nod, your heartbeat drumming out a wild, impatient rhythm. With a final tug, he pulled the shirt over your head and let it fall to the floor, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to the cool air and his unwavering attention.

“You’re perfect,” he said, the words weighted and reverent, resonating deep within you and scattering any lingering doubts or insecurities. His voice was low, a soft rumble that seemed to travel straight through you, making your skin flush anew. The way he looked at you—eyes wide, full of wonder and hunger—made you feel cherished, seen in a way that transcended the physical.

His hands roamed over your curves, fingers tracing the gentle slopes and hollows with a touch that was both possessive and tender. Each pass of his palm over your skin was a silent declaration, a way of mapping you with touch alone, as though committing every line and contour to memory. The feeling was overwhelming, raw and intimate, and it left you teetering between the need to close your eyes and simply feel and the compulsion to watch him as he worshipped you.

His lips found yours again, this time softer, imbued with a depth that made your heart ache even as it stoked the embers of desire still burning in your veins. The kiss was less hurried, more deliberate—a dance of tongues and parted lips that spoke of affection as much as it did want. You shifted on his lap, your thighs tightening as the solid press of him beneath you stirred a fresh wave of anticipation that curled low and hot in your belly.

Fred’s hands slid to your hips, fingers flexing as he guided you, helping you find a rhythm that sent sparks of pleasure skittering through both of you. The friction built slowly, deliciously, each movement drawing gasps and shallow breaths from your lips that mingled with his own. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, mouth parting as a sound escaped him—a sound that told you he was as undone as you were, as lost in the sensations and the moment.

The room seemed to hum with the energy between you, each shift, each press of your bodies against one another igniting the space with unspoken promises. The quiet groans, the soft hitch of breath, the subtle creak of the chair beneath you—all of it blurred together into a symphony that only the two of you could hear, drowning out everything else. The world outside the shop, the flicker of the lamps, even the magic that hummed faintly in the air—all of it faded to the background, leaving only the two of you and the consuming heat that bound you together.

The room around you seemed to dissolve into a hazy blur as your bodies moved in perfect sync, each movement stoking the embers of shared desire. The air was thick with heat, each breath labored, mingling with whispered names that passed between your lips like sacred incantations. The quiet hum of magic that surrounded the shop, usually a background comfort, now pulsed like a heartbeat, adding to the electric charge that threaded through the space.

Fred’s eyes remained locked on yours, their usual mischief replaced with an intensity that made your breath catch. Even as the rhythm between you grew faster, more desperate, his gaze didn’t waver. It spoke volumes, a silent conversation that said more than any words could: that this was real, that it was shared, and that he was wholly here with you. His hands gripped your hips, fingers pressing into your skin with a possessive strength that anchored you, holding you steady as the storm between you built to a fever pitch.

When release finally claimed you, it came in a rush that seemed to pull the air from your lungs, the tension unraveling in a white-hot wave that left you shuddering. Fred’s grip tightened, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he followed you into that blissful abyss, the two of you caught in a moment that felt suspended in time. The echo of it hummed in your bones, and your body collapsed against his, muscles trembling as you both struggled to catch your breath.

His arms wrapped around you, strong and reassuring, drawing you close until your cheek rested against the rapid thud of his heartbeat. The aftershocks coursed through you both, little tremors that left you breathless and weak, a soft sigh slipping from your lips as the world began to right itself. The shop, with its dimly flickering lamps and quiet creaks, seemed almost reverent in its silence, as though even the lingering magic respected this moment between you.

Fred pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips warm and lingering, the gesture a blend of tenderness and exhaustion. The subtle scent of him—woodsmoke and spice—wrapped around you, grounding you further in the here and now. His fingers, now gentle, traced lazy patterns along your back, the touch soothing and intimate, a silent promise that this wasn’t just a fleeting moment.

“I think we might need to test more of that potion,” he said, the corners of his lips curling into a tired, contented grin that made your heart squeeze with affection.

A chuckle bubbled up, soft and genuine, and you tilted your head to press a kiss to the sharp edge of his jaw, where the faint stubble rasped pleasantly against your lips. “I’d say it passed,” you murmured, the words punctuated by the faint crackle of the lamps, which flickered as if in agreement.

The shop settled into a comfortable stillness, the warmth of your bodies pressed close, the steady rise and fall of your breaths intertwining. It felt like a secret kept in the glow of the lamps and the quiet hum of magic—a secret that was yours, wrapped in the soft aftermath and the shared, unspoken promise of more moments like this to come.

Soft, golden rays of morning sunlight filtered through the gauzy curtains, painting warm stripes that danced across the wooden floor and climbed the walls. The room was hushed, a stark contrast to the usual cacophony of chatter, laughter, and bursts of magic that filled it during the day. The early dawn seemed to hold its breath, embracing the quiet as if it were something sacred. Your eyes blinked open slowly, the remnants of sleep falling away as the memories of last night washed over you in gentle waves—snippets of laughter that had bubbled between kisses, heated whispers exchanged in the dim glow, the unguarded moments that left a soft, lingering warmth in your chest.

The air carried a calm stillness, and as you shifted slightly, the comforting weight of Fred’s arm draped over your waist became more pronounced. His breath was steady and warm against your shoulder, each exhale a gentle reassurance that anchored you in place. The plush bed beneath you, worn in from years of shared stories and stolen moments, creaked softly as you turned to face him. The sound blended with the muffled stirrings of the early morning outside, where the world was only just waking up.

Fred’s face was softened by sleep, the perpetual mischief that usually sparked in his eyes momentarily at rest. A hint of a smile lingered at the corner of his mouth, as if even in dreams, he found reasons to be amused. Freckles, scattered like constellations, stood out on his nose and cheeks, illuminated by the tender light that spilled over both of you. You reached out instinctively, tracing one of those freckles with a touch so light it was almost reverent. The skin beneath your fingertips was warm, the gesture small but filled with a quiet affection that made your chest tighten.

At your touch, Fred’s eyes fluttered open, the soft brown depths catching the light and pulling it in, making them glow with a gentle warmth. It took a heartbeat for his gaze to sharpen, to focus on you, and when it did, a slow, lazy grin spread across his face. “Morning, love,” he murmured, the words wrapped in the rough, gravelly timbre of sleep. The sound was enough to send a pleasant shiver down your spine, sparking a contented hum low in your throat.

“Morning,” you replied, voice softer than a whisper, fingers moving to toy with the tousled strands of his hair. The auburn mess caught the morning light, shifting between shades of flame and copper. For a moment, time seemed to stretch, elastic and forgiving, holding the two of you in a golden sliver of stillness where the rest of the world didn’t matter. It was just the two of you, suspended between the night and the coming day, wrapped in the fragile, perfect quiet.

But as the silence between you lingered, a shadow of doubt crept in, coiling at the edges of your thoughts. The serenity of the morning, as beautiful as it was, seemed almost too delicate, too transient. You wondered if this moment could hold, if the world outside the shop’s walls—filled with noise, expectation, and the relentless march of reality—could ever understand the tenderness that had bloomed here. The uncertainty prickled at the back of your mind, threatening to mar the peace you’d found.

Fred’s eyes, observant even when softened by sleep, seemed to catch the shift in your expression. His hand slid up your back in a slow, reassuring gesture, fingers tracing lazy patterns that said without words that he was here, that this was real. And as the first bird outside began to sing, tentative and sweet, the room seemed to exhale with you, the morning holding its breath just a moment longer.

The memories of last night felt almost too vivid, too tender, to be real. They shimmered in your mind like the remnants of a dream, leaving behind an ache of doubt that gnawed at the edges of your thoughts. What if this was just a fleeting moment, a beautiful spark that would fade in the light of day? The question tightened in your chest, pressing against your ribs as you shifted slightly, breaking the comfortable cocoon of warmth the two of you had shared through the night.

“Fred, about last night…” you began, the words catching in your throat as you sat up, the morning light painting soft golden stripes across your bare skin. The quiet vulnerability in your voice was enough to make him stir, his brow furrowing as he sensed the hesitation lacing your tone. His expression softened, the mischievous glint usually dancing in his eyes replaced by something deeper, more serious. His hand, warm and reassuring, tightened slightly on your hip, a silent tether that held you both in the moment.

“Hey,” he interrupted gently, the word wrapped in a softness that calmed the storm brewing in your chest. He pushed himself up to sit beside you, the creak of the chair beneath shifting with him. His eyes met yours, earnest and open, their familiar warmth now tinged with an intensity that made your heart stumble. He searched your face as if he could read every unspoken fear and soothe them with his gaze alone.

“If you’re worried that it didn’t mean anything, don’t be,” he said, his voice steady, each syllable weighted with conviction.

The pad of his thumb brushed your cheek, the touch so tender it sent a shiver down your spine. It was grounding, pulling you back from the precipice of doubt. The quiet sincerity in his eyes, the way his brows knitted slightly as if willing you to believe him, made the room seem smaller, cozier, as if it held only the two of you and this fragile moment.

 “Last night wasn’t just… a one-off thing, (Y/N). Not for me,” he continued, and his voice dropped to a near whisper, as if saying it any louder would break the spell. The confession hung between you, heavy and achingly real, chasing away the shadow that had lingered in your mind.

A warmth unfurled inside you, starting at the center of your chest and spreading outward, tinged with relief and something deeper that made your eyes prickle. You felt the corners of your mouth lift in a soft, genuine smile, a quiet laugh bubbling up as you leaned into his touch, pressing your cheek into his palm. The gesture was simple but filled with trust, and the vulnerability that had scared you before now felt shared, lighter.

“Good,” you whispered, the single word carrying more weight than you intended, your fingers finding their way to the back of his neck, tracing the edge of his hair. Your eyes, which had momentarily drifted to the curve of his lips, met his again, steady and clear. 

“Because I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want this—didn’t want you.”

Fred’s eyes softened further, a slow, contented grin spreading across his face, crinkling the skin around his eyes in that way that always made your heart flutter. The morning light caught the red in his hair, turning it into a halo of copper and gold, and you felt a sense of peace settle over you, deeper than anything you’d known. The silence that followed was no longer heavy with doubt, but warm, alive with the unspoken promise of more mornings like this one, shared in the quiet stillness before the world stirred.

With a small, almost imperceptible nod, Fred leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, breath mingling in the small space between.

“Then we’re on the same page, love,” he murmured, voice barely more than a sigh, before capturing your lips in a kiss that spoke of assurance, affection, and the certainty that this—you and him—was something worth holding onto.

Fred’s grin turned playful, and with it, the last tendrils of tension unraveling, replaced by the lightness of the moment. His fingers found their way to the curve of your smile, tracing it with a touch that sent a subtle warmth trickling through you. “Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it? Because I plan to make this a regular occurrence,” he said, his tone rich with mock-seriousness and a hint of mischief that made your heart skip. He gestured around the cluttered room, jars and enchanted trinkets glinting in the morning light. “Might even clear a shelf for you here,” he added, the twinkle in his eyes daring you to laugh.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, the playful exasperation bubbling over as a laugh escaped your lips, bright and unburdened. The sound filled the room, resonating against the stacks of spell ingredients and rows of joke products that lined the shelves, creating an echo that seemed to amplify the warmth between you. In that moment, the world outside of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes ceased to exist—no bustling shoppers, no clamor of Diagon Alley—just the two of you in the cocoon of your shared laughter.

Fred’s embrace was quick and effortless, pulling you close until you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours, his chin resting atop your head for a moment. It was grounding, solid, and you sank into it, letting the familiar scent of him—woodsmoke, cinnamon, and the faintest trace of parchment—wrap around you like a second skin.

He tilted his head down, pressing a kiss to the crown of your hair, his lips lingering as he spoke, voice dropping into that familiar, teasing drawl that made your stomach flutter. “I’ll make breakfast. Well, I’ll attempt it. No promises on how edible it’ll be,” he said, the smile in his tone unmistakable.

“Considering I saw you burn water once, I’m prepared for the worst,” you retorted, a grin splitting your face as you looked up at him. The laughter that followed was soft, shared, and it drew a playful nudge from Fred as he released you, eyes twinkling with the kind of joy that seemed inexhaustible.

He pushed himself up, stretching his arms high over his head, muscles shifting under the thin fabric of his sleep-rumpled shirt. The motion revealed a strip of skin, toned and freckled, catching the sunlight in a way that made your breath hitch and a blush creep up your neck. Fred noticed, his gaze snapping to yours just as your teeth caught your lower lip. The smirk that spread across his face was pure mischief, eyes narrowing slightly as if he’d just caught you red-handed.

“If you keep looking at me like that, breakfast might have to wait,” he warned, the playful lilt in his voice sending a new spark of heat through you. His eyes danced with that familiar challenge, the kind that made your heart skip and your pulse drum a little faster.

You laughed, the sound a little breathier than you intended, but didn’t look away. The quiet intimacy of the moment wrapped around you both, filling the shop with a warmth that had nothing to do with the sunlight streaming through the window. For now, there was no rush, no outside world knocking on the door—just Fred, you, and the golden glow of the morning, full of unspoken promises and the sense that moments like this would soon become part of the everyday tapestry of your life together.

[weasleysbliss]

𝐇𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 | Fred Weasley

pairing: fred weasley x gryffindor!reader

summary: fred has always been a constant source of irritation, pranks, and rivalry. known for his charm and mischievous smile, he seems to take pleasure in getting under your skin. to you, he’s nothing but a red-headed pest, and yet, the tension between you both almost feels electric.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: angst, slight cursing

a/n: hihi this is my second hp writing piece but the first one i'm acc posting so this might not be the best but nonetheless, i still hope u enjoy reading <3

You’re deep in your slumber, until you suddenly feel an alarming sensation on your face, awakening you quickly and causing your head to dart up. It was water. Splashed all across your face. And there he was, the man who did it all, Fred Weasley. “Fred!” You shouted, while trying to wipe your face dry with your blanket.

“Why’re you bloody yelling? I just figured this is how I’d wake you up, since your alarm clearly can’t get the job done.” Said the red-head boy. “Gosh Fred.. I mean there’s so many ways to wake someone up but pouring water on their faces is vile! Thanks a lot.” You gave him a sarcastic smile as you pushed past him, making your way to the bathroom.

“No problem!” He yelled, knowing it would fuel your anger even more. Fred Weasley is your new roommate. Unfortunately, for the rest of the year he will be. You can't help but think to yourself how you can possibly get through another day having to deal with him.

• 𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬

After a rather irritating start to your day, you finally arrive to your first period class - potions. You greet and take a seat next to your best friend, Hermione Granger. Before you both even get the chance to converse, Professor Slughorn had immediately started lecturing.

As soon as he was finished teaching, Hermione finally asked the question she had been dying to ask you. "I was going to ask, how's your new roommate? Fred, is it?" She said as she looked over to Fred's desk, where he was sitting with his twin brother - George.

"Oh dear.. I don't want to talk about him. He's already being a pain in the ass." You said, in a disappointed tone. "Oh please Y/N, he can't be that bad." She argued. "You say that until he pours water on you to wake you up in the morning." You said, clearly showing your hatred towards the boy. Hermione laughed at your response.

You heard a bunch of familiar laughs coming from the opposite corner of the room. Catching your attention, you look over to where you can hear the laughs and see Fred and George surrounded by the rest of their classmates. What they were laughing at is something you weren't able to tell, and didn't think of finding out because you were so confused. "What could possibly be so hilarious now.." You rolled your eyes.

"Oh gosh, how disgusting! Fred and George are messing around with the potions and are turning them into what looks like a bunch of gross frogs.." Said Hermione. You quickly turn your head back again and see that what Hermione said was true. You nearly gagged at the sight. "Where's Professor Slughorn? Jeez.. the second you need him he leaves the room without any heads up." She said, irritated.

At this point, you weren't even listening to what Hermione was saying. Your eyes were glued to the sight of Fred and George's wands' flicking to convert potions into slimy frogs. You turn back to your desk, nodding your head in disgust. You were finished creating your potion, until you heard someone yell your name.

"Hey Y/N! Want to see what I can do with your potion?!" Fred shouted from across the room. Suddenly, all eyes were on you now. You already knew what he was going to do with your potion, and you weren't in the mood for his stupid jokes now. "Fred Gideon Weasley, if you-" Before you could finish your sentence, he strikes his wand at your potion, and it turns into a sluggish frog.

This potion that you made before it was fucked with, consisted of a recipe that took you ages to perfect. And now that today was the day you were finally able to achieve so, it had to be ruined by none other than your roommate and now rival - Fred.

Fred's prank caused everyone, including himself, to burst out into laughter. You could feel your face getting hot, you didn't know if you should feel embarrassed, cry, leave the classroom, or yell at him. You were far too exhausted to even let your rage out at him anymore, since it was still quite early. As a result, you stormed out of the room. But before you did, you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine and knocked over his potion - breaking the glass and spilling the concoction all over the ground.

Everyone, as well as Hermione, gasped. Fred's mouth hung open, but he wasn't able to get a single world out. You gave him a nasty look and left the class. While running to the common room, you see Professor Slughorn returning to class, not noticing that you had stormed out. Although you weren't able to see what was going on inside the classroom, you assumed he saw the mess you and the twins had created (although it was mainly Fred).

"Bloody hell! I leave for 5 minutes and you guys destroy the classroom!" You could hear Slughorn's yell. Loud enough for you to hear.

• 𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬

Your leaving your last period class, Divination, and you just can’t wait to hop into your bed and take a nap. This idea was cut short as you heard the announcements turn on and say, “Y/N L/N and Fred Gideon Weasley please report to the main office.” Oh gosh. You really hoped this wasn’t regarding what happened in the potions classroom.

As you step into the office, you see Professor McGonagall and Slughorn standing next to each other, relieved that you came but still disappointed in your actions. Sitting across from the two professors, you see Fred with this head facing down. McGonagall signals for you to take a seat beside him, and you do.

"It has come to my attention that you two were responsible for the monstrosity that occurred in Slughorn's potions class." McGonagall spoke. You and Fred didn't say anything, you didn't know what to. You both looked up to her as she spoke. "This is unacceptable! You're both damaging the school's equipment. Not to mention, coming from two very bright students, I must say, this greatly disappoints me." She said, Slughorn eyeing you and Fred while she spoke.

You whispered a soft "I'm sorry" to both professors, with Fred doing the same. "I'll let you both off this time. Do NOT let this happen again, as there will be consequences." McGonagall emphasized. She gave you and Fred the cue to leave, so you both walked out of the office.

"Alright, now that that's out of the way.. I can finally relax." You thought in your head. "Y/N." You heard a familiar voice call your name. You looked back and saw that it was the same guy you walked out of the office with - Fred. You both walked over towards each other, and you waited for him to speak.

"I'm sorry that I've been messing around with you lately.. I can tell you're pretty annoyed with me." He chuckled. You let out a small laugh in response before saying, "It's fine Fred, honestly. I was looking forward to becoming friends with you but, you being a dickhead really doesn't help." Fred laughed at the word 'dickhead', but knew you were being serious when you called him that.

"Well I'll stop being a 'dickhead' from now on, so let's at least try to get along. I mean, we are roommates for an entire year. Might as well." He said. By this point, you've both made up on good terms and return to your rooms.

Nearly a month goes by, and you and Fred have surprisingly been getting along really well. He's refrained from pulling any dumb pranks on you, choosing instead to be sweet and gentle with you. You two have even shown subtle signs of flirting, like you playing with his hair, playfully hitting his arm, and occasionally laying your head on his shoulder.

At times, you would consider your feelings towards him. You didn't have a full-blown crush on him, but his features and personality were starting to draw you in. From his perfect smile to his luscious locks of orange hair and his tall, well-built figure, you were definitely attracted to him in a way. A way you couldn't particularly explain.

Aside from your feelings for Fred, something else exciting was on the horizon - the Yule Ball. You hoped Fred would ask you by now, considering the ball was a week away, but he didn't. However, you didn't mind, thinking he needed more time before asking you.

On one particular night, You and Fred decided to watch a movie in your room. It was some boring true crime film that didn't really interest you both, so you let it play in the background while you and Fred fell asleep. The way in which you guys slept on this very night is one you'll never forget, because the tension almost felt electric.

You laid on his chest, hugging his side, while one of his hands was around your waist and the other playing with your soft hair. Fred fell asleep within seconds, but you were struggling to. Your heart was constantly beating, and this was the closest you've ever been and felt with him. You never wanted to let go of him.

The day after, you were about to leave your 3rd period class - Charms. Before you could step out, you notice Fred in the corner of your eye, across the hall. His presence made you smile, and you felt butterflies in your stomach seeing him, knowing the amazing experience that occurred last night. Your smile slowly fades as you see him talking to Angelina Johnson.

You peek through the door, trying to eavesdrop and find out what they're talking about. You knew this was wrong and a bit creepy, but seeing him talking and laughing with another girl after you had cuddled up with him all night felt strange. You finally find a position where you can hear they're conversation.

"Would you want to go to the Yule Ball with me?" He asked, in which Angelina agreed and said yes. Your heart ached hearing this, feeling like you had been stabbed right in the chest. You stopped breathing for a good few seconds, trying to process what you just heard. Did last night mean nothing to him? Did he not like me? Am I not good enough for him?

There were too many thoughts in your head at the moment, all being negative. You felt your eyes water, tears forming and eventually escaping. You see Angelina leave, and you quickly wipe away your tears before finally leaving the classroom, trying your best to walk as fast as you can back to your room without Fred noticing.

Unfortunately for you, he did notice you. Your red puffy eyes and unusual walking speed caught his attention, and he knew something was wrong. He was calling your name while following you back to your room, but you pretended as if you didn't hear him. As soon as you both get in the room, he yells your name, clearly frustrated, and forcefully turns you so you're facing him.

Your whole look was clear to him now, the smudged mascara, the red eyes, and your tear-stained cheeks. "Y/N! I've been calling your name for like the past 2 minutes and you've clearly ignored me, why are you avoiding me?!" He shouted, making you flinch a little. You felt weak, weak enough to be unable to speak. Your voice was quiet, but you managed to say "B-because Fred.. I've made it so obvious that I like you and I was stupid enough to think that you feel the same but you chose another girl over me! Was I not enough? What did I do wrong?!" You yelled. You looked and felt miserable at this point.

Fred was surprised that you had seen him ask Angelina to the ball, but he was also shocked that you voiced your feelings for him. "Y/N.. I-I'm so sorry. I just didn't know you'd think of me in such a way, considering how I used to treat you when we first met." Fred said. "Fred, that was easy for me to get past. I mean look at you, your handsome, humorous, and you really are a kind soul deep down. Any girl would want you, and would be lucky to have you. I'm so stupid for thinking I was the only option." You said, with your head facing down, unable to make eye contact with him.

You still felt tears slowly streaming down your face. Fred gently grabbed your face so you could look up at him, and wiped your tears with his thumb. "Honestly, I really do like you Y/N. I have for a while. I wasn't sure how you'd react if I went with someone else.. I guess I didn't think you'd care. Again, I'm really sorry, I should've taken your hints. I'm so sorry." He said, with a guilty and sorrowful look on his face.

He genuinely felt bad, and wished he could've went back in time to express his feelings towards you sooner. You didn't give him a response, but instead stopped crying while still trying to catch your breath. He put his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes. Gosh, his eyes were so gorgeous. You hated him seeing you so distraught.

"Y/N, forgive me. Please, I can't afford to lose you." He said. You finally respond, "Freddie, of course I forgive you." He softly smiled at your answer, and pulled you into a tight hug. His arms snaked around your waist, and yours around his neck. He slowly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before saying, "You're so beautiful, did y'know that? Even when you're a mess." You smiled.

You could feel his face inching closer to yours, and you couldn't help but stare at his gorgeous face. Every feature of his was striking to you, his lips, eyes, everything. You admire his face for a solid 10 seconds before you feel his lips go on yours. Finally, you had always dreamed of this moment - kissing him.

The kiss was passionate, your lips both moved in sync and everything about it felt amazing. One of your hands moved to his jawline, and the other tangled in his beautiful hair. His hands were exploring your entire upper body, but decided to settle on your neck and waist, inching closer to your breasts.

The kiss nearly lasted half a minute, before you both pulled away, catching your breaths. His hands moved, cupping your face. "I love you so much Y/N." He spoke, still slightly out of breath. "I love you more Freddie." You said, smiling at him. "It's like our hearts were hexed." He said, as you both laughed. He picked you up off your feet, and you both got back to your steamy make-out session.

[bethsvrse]

me staring at my ceiling after y/n does the most FLABBERGASTING thing ever

[colmiillo]

me acting like I just didn't read the most filthy nasty hot smut fic of my life

[nottsangel]

— hp porn links ੈ♡˳ 16k celebration.

warning: 18+ only. these are twitter links that contain porn videos. these are not fics.

includes: theodore nott, mattheo riddle, draco malfoy, tom riddle, lorenzo berkshire, pansy parkinson, fred weasley, george weasley, ron weasley and harry potter.

nav . m.list . drabbles m.list

— THEODORE NOTT

brother’s bsf!theo fucking you in your room

sex with toxic!theo after a fight

dealer!theo fucking you in his car

bf!theo using you as a stress reliever

— MATTHEO RIDDLE

roommate!mattheo fucking you while everyone’s asleep

missionary with mattheo in his dorm room

bsf!mattheo helping you relax after a long day

classmate!mattheo fucking you against his desk

— DRACO MALFOY

enemy!draco fingering you in the bathroom

draco pounding into you from behind

dom!draco spanking you when you misbehave

draco sneaking into your dorm room late at night

— TOM RIDDLE

dom!tom fucking your throat

rough sex with tom after you’ve been needy all day long

bf!tom fingering you

tom waking you up in the middle of the night

— LORENZO BERKSHIRE

roommate!enzo fucking you in your room

makeup sex with bf!enzo after an argument

dom!enzo fingering you

reverse cowgirl with bsf!enzo

— PANSY PARKINSON

making out with bsf!pansy

gf!pansy eating you out

pansy fingering you in the bathroom between classes

sleepovers with bsf!pansy

— FRED WEASLEY

bsf!fred eating you out

morning sex with roommate!fred

bf!fred fucking you after you flirt with someone else

riding fred’s face after a stressful day

— GEORGE WEASLEY

bf!george breeding you full

baking with bsf!george

morning sex with roommate!george

george fucking you raw after you pull the condom off

— RON WEASLEY

jerking off sub!ron

riding classmate!ron after class

ron fucking you against the wall

sleepy sex with bf!ron

— HARRY POTTER

needy harry fucking your thighs

missionary with harry

dom!harry fingering you from behind

shower sex with bf!harry

[seasons-of-death]

when funkyfrogbait said “how many einsteins have spent their lives washing dishes, how many mozarts bent over stoves instead of pianos because they had the misfortune of being born a woman.”

i might mostly post smut on this account, but i write SO much more than just fanfic, and every word i write is for every woman that came before me that couldn’t write what they wanted. it’s for my mother, my grandmother and my great-grandmother as well as the women that came before.

[bruhaalla]

Right now i need a fat blunt in between my lips a twisted tea in my left hand and a hot 6'5 short tempered man in the right hand and then i just maybe i can go to sleep

[shelbybyr]

When you run out of fics to read

[emeritusemeritus]

Hi,it's nice to find your page! Especially someone who also adores and admires the Weasley twins (together or not together stories)

Can you make a drabble about vulnera-sanentur,it's 19 years later. Since you were already pregnant and with only little Henry at home,while your other children were at Hogwarts. Can you do,Henry accidentally walking in on you three,making love. It was kinda you threes fault,you guys were to loud,and left the door unlock after getting too excited. And since little henry was still a kid,he didn't understand and the twins just told him to get out,give mommy and daddies some privacy. Then,while you guys "continue",Henry started writing to his siblings,saying he was scared and that daddies were hurting mommy in the bedroom.

Immediately the other children came off,ready to defend their mother.

You can twist some parts💝 please and thank you,have a nice day

Hi love! This has been an absolute pleasure to write, it’s been so nice to dive back into the Vulnera Sanentur universe. I hope it’s okay that I set it around Christmas, hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: Mentions of sex, sexual references, threats, illusions to abuse but no actual abuse takes place, nothing graphic.

Word count: 3.4k (I got carried away)

As a note this is set during the epilogue: 19 years after the Vulnera Sanentur story (here if you want to read)

Fred, George and Reader have 4 kids and another on the way. Aurora (Rory) is in her fifth year, twins Griffon and Finn are third years and Henry is 8.

Vulnera Sanguinem

"Oi Griff! Isn't that Owlbert?" Finn nods to his twin across the table in the great Hall towards the Owl approaching rapidly as a number of various others disperse mail to their recipients over breakfast.

Just a few seats up from them, their older sister Aurora cringes at the awful name of the family bird, hoping none of her friends heard and mentally regretting her youngest brother's honour of naming him.

The twins look with identical confusion as the bird comes to a close stop just before them and drops off an unfamiliar letter before nicking a piece of abandoned bread crust from Finn's plate and flying off towards the Owlery for a rest. The twins give each other a look, confused and a little concerned at the hastily scribbled writing on the front. Rory peeks over, the letter peaking her interest but she plays it down, not wanting to spook her brothers. All three of the Weasley kids know that their parents always sent Mail out on a Monday, one each for all their kids and never shared so one single letter arriving is most suspicious, especially considering it was the last Friday of school before Christmas break. They'd all be home tomorrow, why would a letter come now?

"Open it mate," Griff says, thrusting it into Finn's hands but he refuses, instead handing it back to Griffon who sighs, accepting the task.

"It's from Henry," Griffon says with a scrunched up face. He reads in silence, growing more and more confused and concerned as he tries to make out Henry's scribbled writing. Apparently all he had on hand when he wrote the letter was a red crayon, not making it easy for his brother to read.

"Common room, now," Griffin suddenly says to Finn who looks on in concern as his twins suddenly seriousness, something that never happened. They rise quickly from the table and Finn nods to Rory who's watching closely, urging her to follow them.

Once they are back in the deserted common room, they huddle in a corner and take turns passing around the letter, each observing the ominous words. Rory's hand shoots to her mouth in disbelief, tears already welling in her eyes as DH reads her youngest brother's words over and over again.

"Surely not," Finn says, in complete denial, his face stricken. "You really think dad would hurt mum?"

"Which dad though?" Griff says, hunched over as he sits on the arm of one of the sofas.

"Does it matter?" Rory bursts angrily, "none of our daddies would do this!"

"Not what it says there," Griff defends, feeling sickened he'd even have to say those words.

"Then Henry's wrong!" Finn stands, his arms dramatically rising as he makes his point, the usually quieter twin standing his ground and making his point clear. It falls silent between the three siblings for a moment as they consider the options, Finn's outburst making them pause.

"But what if he's not?" Rory says quietly, her eyes rising to the two boys who look nearly identical to her dad's, causing another painful stab to her heart as she's reminded once again of the situation.

——

There's a spring in your step as you bounce around the kitchen, listening to Christmas music and preparing the twins' favourite chocolate cake ready for your oldest three coming back home tomorrow, ready for Christmas break. You were planning on making a selection of everyone's favourite food, double chocolate cake for the twins, a mini apple crumble for Rory and a big roast dinner for everyone with Henry's favourite crispy roast potatoes. You'd even nipped to got some knotgrass mead for your husbands especially and had cooked a batch of Christmas cookies ready for everyone to share. You knew you wouldn't have a lot of time to prepare everything tomorrow, having to pick the kids up just after midday as they arrived back to King's Cross.

"Oooh something smells good in here," you hear George say, stepping into the kitchen. You try to turn towards him but he's behind you in moments, hips pressing into your behind as his lips ghost over the skin of your neck, your hair having been thrust up into a bun when you started baking. Your eyes close with the sensation, already worked up just at the feel of your husband behind you, his semi-excited crotch rubbing against the curve of your bum as his left hand cups your prominent bump, taking a little bit of weight off of it. His right finger drags through a bit of the extra icing, scooping it onto his finger tip as he brings it to his mouth, tasting the chocolaty sweetness with a little moan of satisfaction. You reach to turn off the radio, not wanting anything to spoil this moment, your full attention on George.

"Want to take this into the bedroom?" He says quietly, leaning down to seductively whisper into your ear as he taps the metal mixing bowl. "I could cover you in this delicious icing and lick every single bit off, your choice of where."

You struggle to remain composed at the idea, very invested in the idea of George's tongue on your heated skin.

"Didn't you get enough last night Mr Weasley?" You purr, reaching your hand up to stroke his hand as it rested on your bump. Your body was throbbing already for this, the wonderful surprise of George turning up feeling like the most fortunate timing.

"Never enough Mrs Weasley," George counters in a deep voice, thrusting his crotch into your bum so you could feel the hardness of him against you, hoping he'd be able to tempt you.

You spin around in his arms, a considerably difficult feat thanks to your large bump but George doesn't care, his arms staying firmly around you as his gaze travels to your cleavage where your shirt is considerably stretched across your growing breasts.

"Merlin you look so fucking good pregnant," he growls before capturing your lips in a blazing kiss that forces you to reach out for the counter to stabilise yourself.

You break apart in shock when you hear the front door open, both of you looking towards each other in concern as you scramble to look for the time.

"Mummy?" You hear Henry shout and even more confused, you check the clock on the wall and see that it's only half 2, definitely not when you were expecting him.

"Hi sweetheart, what are you doing home so early?" You call out, waiting for him to appear as you trying to fix yourself to look like you weren't just fooling around with George, who tries equally hard to adjust himself. You walk to the fridge to get him a drink ready and wait for him to appear, inevitably wanting a drink and a snack.

"Last hour was just watching films, we've got films at home why would I stay there when there's," Henry calls out and you can hear him moving through the house, his voice moving closer until he makes an abrupt stop upon seeing you and George in the kitchen. He freezes upon seeing George and quickly looks to you before running up and giving you a tight hug, which is not entirely out of character but something didn't seem right with you.

"Hey watch the baby bud," George says, his face scrunched up at seeing his son be a bit rough.

Henry doesn't let go as you expected and you look down at him, trying to see if there was something wrong.

"Errr I need you, my room, something to show you," he simply says, dragging you along by the hand as you protest, knowing you need to finish the cake but he seems so upset that you couldn't deny him.

He seemed off for the rest of the evening, keeping a watchful eye on you when he thought you weren't looking and almost entirely keeping away from George who was as bewildered as you at your son's strange behaviour. Usually he was all George, much to Fred's displeasure, but it seemed today that he was mummy's best friend. Naturally you assumed it was because of the baby, the youngest struggling to cope with the idea of not being the baby of the family anymore and having to share his parent's attention but when you'd say him down to talk, he'd dismissed it entirely.

Fred tried when he got back from work but nothing seemed to work and he seemed as distressed by Fred as he did George.

You were back in the kitchen again, starting to prepare dinner for the four of you and still hoping for the last night of relative peace before the others get back tomorrow when you heard a deep rumble from behind you, your heart racing as you investigate.

"Fred!" You scream out, not knowing who to call out for first in your panic when you see the mostly unused fireplace knocking from the living room knocking about from the inside, rumbling and groaning. Fred's by your side in mere seconds with George following only moments later, half undressed in only his shirt, tie and boxers getting ready for a shower, sporting a very concerned expression. Fred ushers you gently to the side, with George instinctively placing his hand around your waist in protection as you all pull out your wands and raise them towards the fireplace. You think of Henry alone upstairs and your stomach lurches, not knowing what to expect.

Faint voices appear like an ominous whisper and you hold your breath as they become louder and clearer. The fireplace suddenly illuminates in vibrant green, flames erupting from the base and you jump back in surprise, the floo network having always been temperamental in this fireplace. Who would come here at this time, especially unannounced?

"I told you it wasn't this one!" You heard a somewhat familiar voice say in a clear but irritated voice.

"Well we're here aren't we? Technically." A second but equally as familiar voice counters.

You all seem to lower your wands in sync, letting out long sighs of relief as the situation becomes less ominous with every passing second, realisation settling across all three of you who the voices belonged to.

"You two are the stupidest sodding-." A girls voice cuts out as all three figures appear in the fireplace, suddenly finding their way out of the apparently convoluted floo.

"Mum!"

Rory runs to you, hugging you closely and avoiding your bump as the boys move quickly over to you aswell, flanking each side and nearly towering over you already.

"We're here as well you know!" Fred calls out from the side, the three kids apparently forgetting their two dads were standing in the same room, completely overlooked.

"What are you doing here?" You beam, trying to touch and hug all of your kids individually whilst still being wrapped around all three. "What a surprise!" You couldn't believe they were here, that they'd come to surprise you early. You weren't prepared for them but it didn't matter, too happy in the moment that all your kids were back under one roof.

"Griff! Finn! Rory!" Henry squeals in delight as he runs straight past his daddies to join the cuddle pile, with Finn enthusiastically scooping him up in his arms.

"You do realise you all have two other parents right?" George says jokingly from beside Fred, though their amusement is slowly fading as time passes, their children not acknowledging them at all. The complete joy in your being also begins to fade as the tone suddenly shifts to a much darker, uncomfortable one.

"Okay what's going on?" Fred says suddenly, moving over to you, catching on to the children's weird behaviour. As he moves closer, the twins pull away from you, as does Rory and then Henry who all face their dads with matching looks of hurt and anger.

"Griffon Frederick Weasley!" You scold with fearful surprise as Griff pulls out his wand, pointing it directly at Fred, whilst Aurora does the same to George.

"Aurora Rose, put that wand down this instant!"

You watch in complete astonishment as Finn also pulls out his wand from beside you, pointing it in the vague direction of his dads, whilst Henry pulls out his own faux-wand made from a carved twig that he now wields in an almost threatening motion.

"Woah!" Fred says with complete dread in his eyes as he watched each of his beloved children pointing their wands at him, whilst George looks on in anguish, hurt by very notion.

"Move away from mummy!" Henry shouts, tears welling in his eyes as he looks at his daddies, his twig still pointed at them.

"Guys," he tries to argue but complies, never even thinking about pulling out his own wand on his own children. Both him and George move away with evident pain in their eyes as they comply, hoping all this is just a skit. Griff doesn't relent even for a minute and begins shouting at George and Fred as they still naturally protest what's happening.

"That's enough!" You shout, pulling out your wand to extinguishing the still roaring fire behind you. With another flick of your wand, you magically close the blinds, turn off the radio and suddenly create an harmless explosion above which catches all of them all off guard. You take the opportunity to leap forward and snatch their wands out of their hands, not having the conscience to magically expel their wands from their hands and march over to where Fred and George stand shell-shocked. The kids cry out for both their wands being taken and in protest of you moving forward but you silence them with a simple harsh stare.

"Sit down," you say calmly but forcefully, though you are fuming underneath the surface at their foolishness. "If you all have an issue, we're going to talk about it like civilised humans not brainless creatures." Your harsh glare softens as they do as they are told, even Griffon who is always the most resistant.

"Who wants to go first?"

Silence follows as you look between your kids, all of them looking sheepish but not forthcoming.

"We don't want you to get hurt again," Finn mumbles, averting his eyes and sounding so much like George in that moment that it makes you pause, your mind whirlingnwith his words.

"Me get hurt?" You ask in bewilderment, more confused than ever. "I'm not hurt darling."

"You were," Rory says quietly, tears beginning to build in her eyes, the anger fading from her beautiful face and the emotions now coming out.

You walk over to where they sit, bending down in front of them, hiding the slight sense of your aching hips and burdening bump as you do so. You shoot a glance towards your husbands, telling them to stay there which they surprisingly complying with.

"What's really going on here? I'm fine, I've been fine, no one's hurt."

"But Henry said!" Griff says, still a little more wound up than his siblings, the only one without the sad, forlorn expression on his face.

"Henry?" You ask, turning to your youngest, imploring him with a look of openness. "When? How did you? That's not important," you say with a shake of your head, realising there's a much bigger picture here.

"Henry, sweetheart please tell me everything."

He takes a long shaky breath and looks up at you, trying to judge if you were mad but finds nothing in your face to assume. "I heard daddy and dad hurting you last night."

Your face scrunches up in confusion, brown knitting tightly together as you search through your kind to figure out how in the world he could come to that conclusion.

"Hurting me? Sweetheart your dads have never hurt me and they never ever would," you say gently, your heart breaking at the thought. You can't even look at your husbands, knowing they would look distraught by Henry's words.

"But you were crying, it was loud," he mumbles, picking at the thread of his jumper.

"Honey I," you begin to say only to stop yourself abruptly when you realise exactly what he's talking about.

"Oh no, no no no no," you say, the shocking and quite frankly mortifying realisation hitting you as it all becomes clear. You slowly stand, reaching for the sofa arm as you do so to help you up until you can turn around to Fred and George with wide eyes. They look completely heartbroken, sorrowful looks in their eyes and shoulders slumped. You slowly walk over to your husbands, silencing Rory's protests with a single held up finger as you try to very quickly explain what Henry had actually heard. George looks utterly mortified and Fred doesn't look much better, both of them horrified at your conclusion

"Honey, what you heard last night," you begin to say, turning back and addressing Henry specifically.

"Your daddies weren't hurting mummy."

"We would never ever hurt your mummy," George interjects, voice breaking slightly with the emotion filled vow.

"What you heard," you pause, trying to find the right words in your embarrassed state, suddenly finding your mind void of any comprehension.

"What your mum is trying to say," Fred steps in, finding your lost words. "Remember when we had that little chat about the birds and the bees? About where babies come from." He leaves a moment of silence after his words, waiting for Henry to nod slightly in acknowledgement.

Rory suddenly gasps, her hand shooting up to cover her mouth as she realises quickly what her dad is trying to say. Henry's gaze shoots towards her, unnerved by her loud gasp, not quite clicking on to what Fred was trying to explain.

"Oh no," Finn suddenly says, mind whirling as he fills in his twin brother with a whisper, who instantly pales and looks sickened.

"What? That's disgusting! Henry!"

You wish right then that a portkey could carry you away anywhere but here, wishing for the ground to swallow you up.

"I don't get it!" Henry says, lip wobbling as he realises he's the last one to know.

"Darling, you remember how babies are made right? A mummy and a daddy," you try to calm him, watching him nod. "Special cuddles and all that? That's what you heard last night darling, they weren't hurting me at all."

It suddenly dawns on him and he looks between his three parents to get confirmation as the three other kids look positively ill at the conversation happening in front of them.

"But you've already made a baby," he suddenly says, eyeing your bulging stomach with suspicion. You hear Fred snicker from behind you and fight to hold back your own chuckle at his straightforward thinking.

"Yes darling that's right, but sometimes it's just what mummies and daddies do."

"This is awful, I'm going to my room," Rory says suddenly, almost looking queasy as she stands and attempts to walk off.

"You will do no such thing," you command, face suddenly hardening as you look between your children and raising an eyebrow. "Forgotten about the wand pointing have we?"

It's late now and with a hardly contained sigh, you place the last plate down onto the coffee table and walk back to the kitchen to retrieve some napkins for everyone. After your little chat, everyone had seemed to calm down and you'd watched with rapt anticipation as each of your kids apologised to their dads, giving them tight hugs filled with regretful tears. It had been an eventful and exhausting night, much different to what you had originally planned but you wanted to end it on a high, finding that original joy of your kids arriving home. You'd ordered Chinese takeaway for tea, void of all further energy and had put on a Christmas film for everyone to watch together.

You paused for a moment and looked at the living room in front of you, smiling as you do so at the scene before you. Henry is cuddled up next to George on one sofa, returning to his usual spot and Aurora is nestled into his other side. Griffon and Finn are on the floor by Fred’s feet, whispering and giggling in their own way. Fred’s arms are outstretched on the back of the sofa with an empty spot waiting for you. They tuck eagerly into the food and you watch with abundant fondness at the life you’d created around you, one hand on your bump as you feel the littlest Weasley rolling and kicking inside of you.

Maybe not right now, but you knew that someday you’d laugh about all of this- and remember to use a silencing charm in the bedroom next time.

[rose-of-the-grave]

Reader: breaks up with any of my fictional crushes

Me: u dumb bitch😡 how could you do this to me???

[tsukimirecs]

GRYFFINDOR BOYS

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

FRED WEASLEY

mad woman

cupid crystals

a special friend

recovering a life

deep breath

strawberry letters

date after date

SIRIUS BLACK

complimentary quills

just a natural fact

brighten your days

black dog neighbour

padfoot

HARRY POTTER

harry potter and the long-lost beach episode

harry potter and the late-night company

potter love

gifts

green-eyed idiot

romancing professor potter

CHARLIE WEASLEY

creative writing class

favourites

taming the dragon tamer

lucky charm

let's pretend

GEORGE WEASLEY

heart-to-heart chase

beating a weasley

well-meaning deceit

see you again

it's definitely you

coming home

[raekensluver]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟺 ˎˊ˗

hiii! since it's getting close to october- that means kinktober season! this is my first ever kinktober event, so don't be too mean to me...stay alert for updates! if you want to be apart of my taglist for this event- reply down below!

ᴏᴠᴇʀᴠɪᴇᴡ ˎˊ˗

- minors dni! for others- please read the warnings and tags before reading- don't like, don't read!

- all fics will be dom!male!character x sub!fem!reader.

- all characters i write for are 18+ and consenting adults!!!

- all posts relating to this years kinktober event will be tagged as 'mara's kinktober '24'

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ ˎˊ˗

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴏɴᴇ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟷.

praise kink | spencer reid x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, creampie, praise kink, porn without plot.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟹.

exhibitionism | theodore nott x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, exhibitionism, degradation, name calling (whore/slut), porn without plot.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟻.

period sex | rafe cameron x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, mentions of period blood, porn without plot.

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴛᴡᴏ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟽.

thigh riding | aaron hotchner x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, thigh riding, praising, porn without plot.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟿.

piss kink | jj maybank x inexperienced!fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, piss kink, holding/pee desperation, wetting, vaginal sex, teasing/light degradation.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟷.

face sitting | james potter x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, face sitting, oral (f recieving), porn without plot.

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟹.

squirting | patrick zwieg x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, female ejaculation (squirting), name calling (slut), fingering.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟻.

mirror sex | spencer reid x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, mirror sex, vaginal sex, p in v from behind, choking.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟽.

blindfold/sensory deprivation | theodore nott x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, sensory depravation, blindfold use, spit play.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟿.

dacryphilia | patrick zwieg x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, porn without plot.

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ғᴏᴜʀ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟷.

hand kink | george weasley x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, hand kink, mild exhibitionism, fingering, teasing, dirty talk.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟹.

phone sex | art donaldson x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, phone sex, mutual masturbation, pet names (baby, pretty, good girl), porn without plot.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟻.

body worship | spencer reid x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, body worship, oral (f recieving), porn without plot.

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ғɪᴠᴇ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟽.

desperation | fred weasley x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, handjob, blowjob, praise kink, porn without plot.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟿.

[file not found]

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟹𝟷.

innocence/corruption kink | tashi duncan x art donaldson x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, fmf threesome, corruption/innocence kink, vaginal sex, creampie, unprotected sex, praise kink, porn without plot.

layout inspo/creds to: gogogodzilla and sytoran

[lovie-bugzz]

train ride ┊fred weasley

pairing - bsf!fred x f!reader (first person pov)

summary - The train compartment had gotten a bit crowded on the way to Hogwarts, so your best friend Fred offered for you to sit in his lap. However, throughout the ride you just couldn't seem to get comfortable...

contains - smut, dom!Fred, swearing, fingering, orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), teasing, hair pulling, rough sex, cum swallowing

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The twins and I were laughing about something stupid that George had said as the train left the station. I lightly hit the boy in the arm, "Shut up!" I say between laughter.

After we had calmed down, Fred spoke up, "Let's go meet up with Lee and the girls." He said, referring to Alicia and Angelina. The six of us had been a tight knit group since first year, and it now being our sixth year, it was safe to say that we were all extremely close.

George and I agreed, and so the three of us began our trek down the aisles of the train, looking into each of the compartments. Once we found them, we squeezed into the small room, greeting one another.

As the three of us sat down, it began to be a tad bit cramped, with Lee and Alicia taking up the whole of one side, Fred and I had to squeeze in beside Angelina and George.

I pushed past how uncomfortable I was as Lee started a conversation, asking, "Do any of you have a clue as to what's happening at Hogwarts this year?"

"No! Mum's been going ballistic and nobody will tell us what's going on." George told them, Fred nodding along, "Yeah, it's like all the adults are keeping this giant secret."

The topic continued for about twenty minutes, everyone butting in with their own theories as the what was happening. I couldn't really pay attention as I was severely uncomfortable, being pressed in between Fred's shoulder and the window, my arms were pretty much completely constricted.

Fred glanced over at me, with a crease in his brow, noticing how squashed and uncomfortable I was, he leant down slightly to speak to me, "You alright, love?"

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine, it's just a bit cramped in here." I told him, brushing it off. The boy chuckled lightly, shaking his head, before suddenly he pulled me up by my waist, and placed me in his lap.

I was a bit surprised at first, my eyes going wide for a split second until I let out a small sigh of relief at now finally being able to move my arms. I turned back slightly with a light chuckle and gave him a thankful nod, to which he returned with a cheeky smile.

For a while, everything was fine, I was comfortable and laughing along with the lively conversations in the compartment. But that stopped when I started to squirm a bit, causing Fred to still, letting out a quiet groan, which I didn't quite catch.

I stopped after a moment, finding a comfortable stop on his lap, making the boy let out an inaudible sigh of relief. His attention was brought back to the conversation for a mere minute before I started moving my hips again, finding my spot atop him to be growing more and more uncomfortable the longer I sat here.

One movement I made in particular had my ass digging right into his now hardening bulge. He harshly grabbed my hips, halting my movements which made me jump a bit at the sudden contact.

The boy leaned forward towards my ear, whispering lightly so the others wouldn't hear, "love, if you don't stop that, we're going to have an issue..." He said, his voice had a sudden rasp to it. The unfamiliar tone sent a shiver down my spine, my eyes widening as I realized what I had been doing, and a deep red blush settled on my cheeks.

I was glad the others weren't paying attention to us, they were too encapsulated by their own conversations.

It was an innocent mistake, I was only trying to get comfortable, forgetting that I was literally sitting on top of Fred's dick and squirming around. I turned back slightly, to look at him, as I whispered back, "Do you want me to move?" I asked, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

He rose a brow at me, a smirk on his face, "You moving is the problem, love." He joked, making me roll my eyes at him, the blush on my cheeks deepening further. He spoke again, this time with a more serious note, "I just need you to stop fidgeting so much, okay?"

He moved one of his hands from my waist to my thigh, his hand casually resting on my inner thigh, his touch causing my skin to tingle. I turned back around, "Fine..." I spoke, innocently looking out the window, making sure I didn't move anymore.

I watched the trees and landscape fly past us, but I couldn't keep the thoughts out of my head. Of what would happen if I did move again. It was definitely tempting, I bit my lip as dirty thoughts made their way into my head. But I shook them away just as quickly as they came. What was I doing? Fred is my best friend, I can't be thinking about him like this.

But on the other hand, it was tempting. So, after about another minute or two of contemplation in my head, I decided to test the waters.

Pretending like I had forgotten our prior conversation, I just slightly moved my hips against his. The boy let out a cough, as if clearing his throat, but I knew better. I stifled my smirk, before moving again, this time the tiniest bit harder. He sucked in a breath, glaring at the back of my head.

He knew exactly what I was doing, but he couldn't do anything, no matter how badly he wanted to, not with his brother and friends in the same compartment. So, he subtlety pinched my waist, as a warning, which sort of backfired on him as it only made me squirm more, my ass hitting exactly the right spot to rile him up.

I could feel it, the effect I had on him, how could I not? It was digging into my ass. The boy grit his teeth, leaning up a bit to whisper to me, "You're playing a dangerous game, love..." He spoke lowly, but I only shrugged, feigning innocence, my hips moving hard against him, making him groan as I turned to give him a smug smile, "I don't know what you're on about." I say simply, turning back around and making sure my movements stayed completely still.

Fred chuckled lowly, throwing his head back against the seat, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. He was clearly frustrated that I stopped, and I couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction.

About five minutes had gone by, I was so busy basking in glory that I almost missed how Fred gripped my hips and stood us up.

"We're going to go find the trolley. Do any of you want anything?" Fred spoke, asking the others. I was confused by this, but didn't make any move to protest as I was too focused on how hard the boy behind me was grabbing my hips.

Everyone shared a glance before Lee spoke, "No, we're good."

Fred nodded before moving us forward and pushing us out of the compartment and letting the door slide closed behind us. He loosened his tight grip on my hips, but kept them resting there as he pushed me forward to walk down the corridor.

I had no doubt in my mind that he was keeping me so close in front of him to hide his boner. I let a smug smile wash over my face at the situation, but it was quickly washed off my face as my arm was suddenly being tugged into the bathroom. I gasped as Fred pulled us into the small room, slamming the door shut, locking it and then proceeding to push me flush against it.

I stared up at him with wide eyes as he towered over me, the dark look in his eyes making me squirm against the door. He rested his arms on either side of me, effectively trapping me in place between him and the door. He leaned in close, his nose almost touching mine, his eyes roaming hungrily over my face.

"You didn't think you were actually gonna get away with that did you?" The boy asked. "You think you're so clever, don't you? Playing with fire like that, teasing me in the train compartment with our friends around."

I couldn't answer, my words failing on me as my mouth opened and closed like a blubbering fish.

Fred smirked at my reaction to his intense gaze. He pressed his body more firmly against mine, leaving me no escape. His hands moved from the door to my hips, keeping me in place, his grip tight enough to leave slight indents on my skin from his long fingers. He rose a taunting brow at me, "Cat got your tongue, love? You were quite the little minx a few minutes ago. What happened?"

I was in such a state of shock, not knowing what to say, my cheeks were burning. As soon as he had pulled me into the bathroom all of my confidence went down the drain. The way he was looking down at me hungrily, his lust filled eyes staring into my soul, it made my knees weak.

Fred chuckled low in his throat, noticing the effect he was having on me. His smirk turned into a sly grin, his eyes drinking in the sight of my flushed cheeks and the way my body was practically trembling against his.

"Not so cocky now, are you? Just a few minutes ago you were teasing me to no end, knowing exactly what it would do to me. But now..." He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above my ear, his voice dropping to a low, sultry whisper. "Now you're trembling beneath my touch, and it's driving me mad."

His hot breath fanning over my ear made me let out a shaky breath, I turned my head slightly to look at him. "Fred..." I breathed out, my eyes flickering down to his lips as I bit down on my own. The air in this small bathroom was thick, I felt like I couldn't breathe.

Fred's eyes darkened as he watched my gaze linger on his lips. His gaze zeroed in on my biting down on my own lip, a sight so tempting that it took all his self-control to not attack my mouth in that very moment. He chuckled softly, the sound rough and filled with desire.

"Say my name again." He commanded, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, as he moved his face closer to mine, his breath mingling with mine in the cramped space between us. He smirked, loving the effect he was having on me. He thrived off of it.

I did as he said, breathing out his name once more, "Fred..." I was getting desperate, I needed him to do something.

Fred's eyes darkened with desire as he heard me say his name again, the tone of my voice making his self-control waver even more. He smiled slightly, enjoying the power he held over me in this moment. He knew I wanted him to do something, but he wasn't going to give in that easily. He loved having me at his mercy, the look of want in my eyes making him feel powerful, and making him want me even more.

"You want something, love?" He asked, his voice low and seductive, as he took a piece of my hair and delicately placed it behind my ear.

I nodded, "Mhm." I hummed out, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. My desire for him was clouding my head.

Fred smirked down at me, the look in my eyes fueling his arrogance and ego. He slowly moved a hand from my waist to my chin, his fingers gently gripping it and tilting it up slightly, forcing me to maintain eye contact with him.

"Use your words, love. Tell me what you want, and maybe I'll give it to you." He teased.

"I want..." I trail off, my voice failing on me. I cleared my throat, looking up at him, "I want you to kiss me."

Fred was consumed by desire and need, the moment I uttered those words he couldn't hold back anymore. He practically lunged at me, capturing my lips in a rough and needy kiss, full of pent-up passion and desperation. My arms went to circle around his neck, but before I could, he quickly took hold of my wrists, pinning them above me with one hand, holding them firmly against the door.

I let out a gasp at the action, which he took full advantage of by plunging his tongue into my mouth, exploring every inch of it, tasting me, claiming me as his own. His free hand wandered down my body, tracing every curve and contour, making me moan around his tongue.

Fred swallowed my moan, the sound only adding to his hunger and desire. He was intoxicated by me, my gasps and sighs fueling his need to have all of me. He continued to explore my body with his hand, each touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

He broke the kiss, panting slightly, only to attack my neck with his lips and tongue, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive flesh, determined to leave his mark on me.

"Oh, fuck..." I whined as I felt him bite down on my neck, turning my head slightly to give him better access. My arms squirming in his tight hold.

Fred continued his assault on my neck, he released a low growl, his hold on my wrists tightening as he felt me squirm beneath him, clearly enjoying my reaction to his touch. He nipped and sucked, leaving behind a trail of red marks on my neck.

I shivered as he blew cold air over the tender skin, before speaking into my neck, "You're so sensitive."

I couldn't respond, too caught up in the pleasure, but my eyes suddenly widened as I felt his fingers start playing with the waistband of my pants, running against the skin of my lower stomach. I bit my lip in anticipation, and I could feel Fred smirking against my neck when he noticed.

His fingers continued to toy with the waistband of my pants, occasionally slipping beneath it, teasing the sensitive flesh of my stomach, but not going any further than my panty line. I squirmed in his hold, getting impatient.

He broke away from my neck for a moment to look down at me, and the look in his eyes was pure desire and hunger. "You're so pretty like this, love." He whispered, his voice rough with need.

I continued to squirm in his hold, the way he was still holding my arms against the door was maddening. "Please, Fred... Touch me, please." I whined, desperately.

Fred only chuckled evilly, "Why should I, love? You been teasing me all day, testing my patience." He taunted, his fingers continued to toy with the waistband of my pants, occasionally dipping below the fabric, only to slide back out again, teasing me.

"I'm sorry... I won't tease you anymore, just please. I need it." I pleaded, pushing my hips closer to him. The way his fingers were brushing just above where I needed him was making me even more desperate with desire.

His hand moved from my waistband to my hip, gripping it tightly and forcing me back onto the door. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above mine, his words a hot whisper against my mouth. "You're a needy little thing, aren't you? Begging for me like this."

I let out a whimper, nodding at his words as my head rolled against the door. "What do you want, love? Tell me what you need. I want to hear you say it." He said, his voice low and sultry.

"Your fingers. I need them inside of me." I answered, making him chuckle from my blunt response.

"Is that so, hm?" He murmured, his hand trailing away from my hip and moving between my legs to rub me through my pants. I whined at the sensation, finally getting some friction. "You want my fingers, do you? You want me to make you feel good, make you cum?"

I couldn't help but moan from his words, that combined with how he was touching me sent heat over my body. I nodded again, "Yes, please."

"That's a good girl, using your words and asking nicely. I like that." He teased, his fingers moving up to unbutton my pants, pulling them slowly, exposing more of my skin. He began trailing his fingers over the top of my panties, his touch was light and teasing.

He leaned in closer, his lips grazing my ear, as he whispered, "Are you wet for me, love?"

I shivered, nodding my head, "So wet, just for you, Fred." I told him, my arms squirming in his hold once more, I wanted to touch him so badly.

He chuckled darkly at my unsuccessful attempts to break free of his grip, he only tightened his hold on my wrists. He could feel how much I wanted to touch him, but he wasn't done making me a needy mess just yet.

"Is that so?" He whispered, his voice thick with desire, as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of my panties, gently touching my bare skin, feeling just how aroused I was.

My breathing stuttered as his fingers trailed over my wetness, spreading it over my throbbing clit, causing me to moan loudly. Fred smirked in satisfaction at the sound of my moans, he loved how I was reacting to his touch, how he was reducing me to a moaning mess with just his fingers.

"Shhh, love. You're being too loud. You don't want anyone to hear us, do you? I don't think you want everyone to know just how needy you are for me, how desperate you are for my touch." He whispered, continuing to tease me, his fingers rubbing and circling over my bundle of nerves.

I nodded, biting my lip to stop myself from being too loud, but that went down the drain as I felt him slip two fingers inside of me. I practically screamed at the force with which they entered me. "Fuck!"

Fred chuckled as my reaction to his fingers entering me, it was louder than he initially thought, he quickly dropped his hold from my wrists and moved his hand to cover my mouth, effectively muffling my scream into a mewl.

"Shhh, love. You really can't keep quiet, can you?" He teased, his voice thick as he continued pumping his fingers inside me at a fast pace.

I moaned against his hand, my own hands that were finally free gripping onto his wrist that was moving inside of me. My eyes rolling back in my head as I felt him add a third finger, stretching me out.

"Oh, fuck, love. You're fucking swallowing my fingers." Fred groaned out, curling his fingers inside me, hitting that perfect spot that had that familiar coil in my stomach forming.

I was so close, and I knew he could tell by the way I was clenching around his digits. My breathing was coming out ragged, I was panting against his hand as he continued to hit my g-spot over and over again. My orgasm was right there, I was tipping over the edge until suddenly, Fred took his fingers out of me.

I let out a squeal in protest against his hand, but Fred only chuckled at me, as he dropped his hand from my mouth, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Why... Why did you stop?" I panted out, watching as he placed his three fingers that were dripping in my slick in his mouth, sucking me off of them.

He hummed around his fingers, pulling them out of his mouth with a pop, I stared at him in shock as he responded, "Oh, now, love. You didn't think I was going to let you finish just like that, did you? Not after how naughty you've been all day." He teased, a smirk on his lips.

I let out a huff, throwing my head back against the door, frustrated from being denied my release. But my ears perked up as I heard him undoing his belt, making me look back at him.

"Patience, love." He said, undoing his belt and quickly unzipping his pants. "Good things come to those who wait, remember?" He taunted me, slowly letting his pants fall to the ground, and stepping out of them, leaving him in his boxers.

I stared down at the obvious tent, the one that I had created, I bit my lip watching as he paced towards me, pulling me toward him and kissing me hard.

The kiss was more rough and needy than our previous one, we were breathing heavily into it, devouring each other. My hands trailed into his hair, as his trailed down and squeezed my ass, and I moaned as I felt his hard on press against my lower stomach.

In one swift movement he broke the kiss, turning me around and bending me over the sink. He ran his hands over my back, before harshly pulling my underwear down my legs. His hands ran possessively over my hips.

I looked over my shoulder at him, watching as he pushed his boxers down, freeing his length, my eyes widened at the size. "Shit..." I muttered out.

Fred smirked at my reaction, "See something you like, love?" He teased, making my eyes snap up to meet his gaze.

"You're... So big." I spoke, almost cringing at myself, but I couldn't help it. Fred chuckled at my bluntness, he loved how I was so honest and open with my words, not like most girls he'd been with.

"Don't worry, love. I'll make you feel good." He reassured me as his hands stroked my thighs, moving up and down my skin in a soothing motion.

I bit my lip, nodding my head, the way he could be so rough with me one second, and the next be so comforting was making my head dizzy.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" He murmured as his hands slowly moved higher up my thighs, nearing my bare core. I shivered at his words, his touch making me more needy.

He bent down slightly, placing a kiss on my hip before he went back up, spreading my legs a bit more and started lining himself up with my entrance, running his dick through my wet folds, making me whine.

"You ready?" He asked, to which I nodded, but that seemed to not be good enough because Fred gripped my hip tightly, "No. I need a yes." He growled, as I let out a shaky breath.

"Yes..." I responded, making him smirk.

"Good girl." He praised, before slamming into me, instantly bottoming out, making me scream out his name, "Fuck, Fred!"

My hands gripped tightly onto the edges of the sink, the boy behind me panted heavily as he began to relentlessly pound into me, "Oh, fuck. So fucking tight, love." He spoke, his words adding to the amount of pleasure I was in.

The sound of our skin slapping together, our heavy breathing and moans filled the small bathroom, if anyone walked passed the door they would have no doubt about what was going on in here. "Feel good, love?" Fred questioned, but I could only moan in response.

Fred growled at this, his hand roughly latched onto my hair, pulling me flush against his chest, speaking lowly in my ear, "Huh? I asked you a question."

"Yes! Yes, feels so- Fuck- So good!" I stuttered out, my eyes rolling in the back of my head. The way he pulled on my hair was intoxicating, it was painful, but the pleasure it gave me completely overpowered it.

His free hand trailed up the front of my shirt, pushing it up over my bra, before pushing that up as well. He squeezed my boob in his hand, lightly pinching my nipple, making me whimper.

"Yeah? You like how I fuck you, don't you? You're taking me so well." He praised, his hips stuttering a bit, so he took his hand away from my boob, pulling out for a moment to grab my thigh and rest it atop the edge of the sink.

After he readjusted me, he pushed my back down again, still keeping his strong grip in my hair, before thrusting back into me. "Yes!" I moaned out, the new angle allowing him to hit my g-spot, and his balls to slap my clit repeatedly.

I knew if he kept up this pace I wasn't gonna last much longer, plus I was still a bit sensitive from him denying me my orgasm before. "Fuck, this pussy is all mine." He groaned, his voice hoarse.

"Yes! Oh, fuck it's yours! All yours!" I said in between moans. I was a mess, beginning to clench tightly around him as I felt myself nearing release.

Fred moaned as he felt me squeezing him, "You close, love? Gonna cum?" He taunted, picking up his pace, which I wasn't sure was even possible.

"Yes! So close." I said, my voice cracking.

"Cum then, cum all over my cock." Fred commanded. It didn't take long after his words for my release to wash over me, my eyes rolled back as I let out a guttural moan, my legs shaking as he continued to pound into me, letting me ride out my high.

I felt Fred twitch inside of me before he spoke, "Shit, shit..." He moaned, swiftly pulling out of me, "On your knees." He demanded, his voice low and authoritative. I instantly complied, moving off the sink and getting on my knees in front of him, "Open your mouth for me, love." He said, prompting me to listen, I opened wide, staring up at him as he jerked off above me.

He groaned at the sight of me below him, throwing his head back, as he hovered his tip over my tongue, "You look so good down there." He said, before letting out a guttural moan, and releasing in my mouth.

I moaned as his cum shot out onto my tongue, the salty taste making me hum in pleasure. "Fuck..." He trailed off, his hand slowing on himself as he milked himself dry.

I closed my mouth, swallowing his seed, making him stare down at me darkly, before harshly pulling me up to my feet. "Such a good girl for me." He praised once more, holding my cheek in his hand before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.

As he pulled away, he gave me a loving look, "Was that okay, love? I didn't go to hard did I?" He asked, making my heart melt. "No, that was... Perfect." I told him, it still baffled me how he could be so rough and dominant and then switch to being so caring and comforting.

He chuckled, "Good." He said, moving away from me to pull his boxers back up and put his pants on. As he did I adjusted my bra and pulled my shirt down, before bending down as well to put my own pants on, but I stopped short when I felt the sudden pain in my legs, making me wobble a bit.

"Woah." Fred spoke, going forward and grabbing my waist to steady me, "You alright?"

"Yeah... My legs just hurt a bit." I told him. Fred smirked at that, making me shoot him a glare, and lightly slap him on the chest. "Shut up."

He rose his hands in mock surrender, "I didn't say anything." I just shook my head at him, trying to bend down again, but he stopped me, "Let me help you."

I watched him as he bent down, slowly pulling up my underwear, then my pants, even buttoning them for me. I gave him a smile as he stood back up, and pecked my lips. "Thanks."

"For what? The sex, or helping you put your clothes back on?" He joked, making me roll my eyes. "Fred." I warned him, making him chuckle. "Okay, okay. I'll stop." He said, as he buckled his belt, while I adjusted my hair, trying to make it look like Fred's hands weren't just gripping and tugging on it a few minutes ago.

"Do you think they'll know?" I asked, making him look at me. He glanced down at my neck, specifically the hickeys that littered every inch of my skin. He stifled his smirk, "Considering the amount of hickeys I left on you... No, they'll have no clue." He said, sarcastically.

I groaned before we both looked at each other, and instantly broke out into laughter. This was definitely not how I thought this day would go when I woke up this morning, but I couldn't complain.

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masterlist

[bethsvrse]

pov: I find a good smut fic but it includes a daddy kink

[colmiillo]

"I notice i start getting nauseous in the morning and my period is a week late"

Girl i need to fantasies with a hot man that i don't have a chance on, not with a baby,please kill that thing