#fred weasley drabble

[nottsangel]

Imagine being cuddled up in the common room with Fred on a stormy night. The fire is lit, all your friends are sat around just telling stories and reminiscing on summer and all the fun things they’ve been doing recently. You and Fred have not long been together and he can’t keep his hands off of you, under the blanket this big hand is caressing your inner thigh, inching higher with each pass as you quietly whimper into his shoulder. Would he be bold enough to silently make you cum as everyone sits around the common room chatting?

OHHH BUT HE WOULD… HE WOULD… fred is the biggest tease everrrrr. he fucking loves seeing you get all shy as his hand moves higher and higher up your leg, causing him to smirk mischievously. he’d lean in, planting soft kisses on your neck as he rubs your aching clit over your already soaked underwear, whispering into your ear.

“as much as i love hearing your cute moans, you really have to keep quiet darling, or everyone will be able to hear you.”

you can practically hear him smirking before his fingers move to your dripping hole, gently slipping two fingers deep inside of you. you instantly bite your lip to suppress any moans, your teeth drawing blood while you try to maintain a pokerface as much as possible.

“so wet already, hm? such… a naughty girl.”

“fred— oh my god”

“i know, sweetheart, i know.” he coos as he curls his fingers inside of you, the tip of his digits rubbing against your sweet spot. you’re so close to coming already— so fucking close. your eyes flutter shut as you wait for him to stop. because he would, right? he wouldn’t make you cum in front of everyone… right? oh, you were so, so wrong, and you quickly realise that when your orgasm washes over you, causing you to dig your nails into his arm as your eyes roll to the back of your head. “that’s it, darling. such a good girl.”

ੈ♡˳

[hanasnx]

fell in love without you

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

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

“Are you serious?”

One twin feigns offense. “Deadly serious.”

The other mimics him. “Gravely.”

“S’only fair, innit?”

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

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

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

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

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

“And me.” the other adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[desideriumwriter]

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

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

wc: 1.4k

f.w. masterlist | navi

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

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

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

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

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

9:47 PM.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He watched nervously as your face lit up in realization.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?” You let out a breathy chuckle.

And what about you? Where are you coming back from

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tell me what you thought!

[rottenherbs]

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

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

Word Count: 1.5k

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

[masterlist]

Much Love, Saige

———————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah that would be nice”

[emeritusemeritus]

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

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

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

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

Timeline: Non-specified/ non-canon event.

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

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

Word count: 1.8k

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

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

'Little Badger- My dorm, 8pm?'

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

"Where George?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Astronomy tower?"

"Orrrrr a nap?"

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

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

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

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

"Let's go to the black lake."

"Are you going to drown me?"

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

"Alright, lead the way then Weasley."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yours are warm," you hum in return.

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

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

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

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

“It was you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It really was him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You trust me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[dearharriet]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No rush.”

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

“What?”

Fred shakes his head. “Nothing.”

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

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

“So?”

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

“Found it.”

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

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

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

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

“I like it already.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? I can’t say that?”

You shake your head, truly sick of his teasing.

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

“I’m complimenting you, pretty girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Am not,” you insist.

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you ever forgive me?”

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

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

The pitter-patter of your heart picks up again.

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Freddie.”

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

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

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

Just like that, he’s gone.

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

“Shouldn’t we go?” you ask.

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

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

+

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

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[apparentlytheproblem]

s a f e a r m s

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- fred weasley

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

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

requested- yes

warnings- none i hope

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"are you planning on letting go freddie darling?"

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

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

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

[softly-sirius]

Fred's Lucky Tie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look-”

“Merlin-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[pappydaddy]

sorry about the shirt (f.w.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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- not my gif -

GIF by fgweasley

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

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

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

Fred Weasley x (gn) Reader

This is it.

The end of your friendship.

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

I’m in love with you.

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

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

You speak first. “Is this a prank?”

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

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

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

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

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

Harry Potter Masterlist

[nottsangel]

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

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

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

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

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

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

ੈ♡˳

[upindreamland]

Happy Birthday my love - Fred Weasley

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

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

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

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

———————

“Fred Weasley you better put that icing DOWN!”

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

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

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

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

However, Fred was quickly trying to change that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The first person that went was George.

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

He got me a camera that instantly prints moving photos.

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

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

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

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

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

He was holding the prettiest ring ever.

“Y/N L/N, will you marry me?”

Everyone looked at us with wide expectant gazes.

I knew at that moment the only response was,

“YES!”

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

[cosmic-glow]

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

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

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

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

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

- Who is the photo for?

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

- Who are you?!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- I'm not afraid of ghosts.

- And angels?

- Why would anyone be afraid of angels?

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

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

- Oh, that's true, I forgot.

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

- I will return your wand on one condition.

- Condition? The wand is mine!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Fred?

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

- Thanks for staying.

- As if I had much choice.

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

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

- Yes.

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

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

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

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

- ... Thanks - he smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sorry for any typos;

Buy me a coffee?

October Calendar;

Masterlist

[rottenherbs]

Matchmaker // pt.2 // F.W x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: After your small escapade with Fred, you make your way to the Gryffindor common room to sort the papers and learn a little more about each other.  

Authors note: silly goofy chapter. Honestly I wasn’t going to write at all today, but I found some solace in it. I have to put my family cat down tomorrow and I’m like conflicted in my grief. SO I shall give the people what they want. Part three coming sometime soon —

[masterlist]

Much Love, Saige 

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The castle hallways were unsurprisingly empty. It was considerably late at night and most students were barred away in their dormitories; you two just barely made it to the common room before curfew was in place. On the way back you both joked about the romance between students and the stereotypes you find most in your clientele —

“I’d consider myself to be one of the hopeless romantic types.” Fred boasts, his hand on his chest, looking up to the air dramatically. You roll your eyes, both of you halting at the portrait of the fat lady. “But something tells me that you knew that already?” He wagged his eyebrows, nudging you playfully. Ignoring his gesture, you shake your head. 

“Mimbulus Mimbletonia”. The painting swung open, Fred again bowing and ushering you in first. 

”Alright alright, I get it, you’re a gentleman.” You laugh, stepping through the corridor. Fred scoffs, standing jokingly aghast before following you behind. Fred didn’t respond, just smiled to himself watching you walk through the common room.

 Looking around, he noticed it was quite vacant, happy at the prospect that you two could hang out together alone, no one to bother you. Turning to the warmth to his left, he eyed the coveted spots in front of the fireplace that were open for the taking. 

“Pst.” Fred pestered, getting your attention. He cocked his head towards the fireplace, walking over there himself. Plopping on the large couch, his legs spread wide taking up most of the sofa. You walked over, hesitating where you should sit. Contemplating the proximity you’d be comfortable being next to him, the idea of your thighs touching sent flutters through your stomach. Biting your lip lightly, you walked around to the front of the fire, setting your belongings on the floor. 

Fred watched you casually, a small ping of disappointment that you didn’t decide to sit next to him, but grateful that he now had a better view of you. 

Reaching into your book bag, you grabbed a conglomerate of papers, passing a few over to Fred. Outstretching his hand, your fingers grazed each other, the act was temporary and unimportant, but the feeling was everlasting. You released the papers, attempting in any way possible to hide the nervousness that suddenly overcame you.

Fred on the other hand was thrilled, the feeling only making him itch for more contact with you. He took the papers and laid them in his lap, flickering his gaze to you every so often, noticing how fidgety you suddenly became. 

“Alright, let’s see your knowledge on the student population eh?” You cleared your throat, breaking the silence. Fred nodded, shuffling through the papers, fanning them all in front of himself. 

“How do you remember all of this stuff, there has to be thousands of students at Hogwarts.” Fred chucked, suddenly becoming more aware that he in fact did not know the students like he bragged about just hours prior. 

“Actually its there is just over 975 this year.” You shrugged your shoulders. “But honestly, im just in a lot of clubs. Easy to know people's faces and learn about them.” You started 7 piles in front of you, one for each year. 

“Clubs? What clubs are you in.” Fred inquired, his eyebrows raising. He was surprised that you had time for anything outside of schoolwork and your little matchmaking busniess. 

“Um well.” You sat up, facing Fred more directly, thinking of where to start. You held out your hand, beginning to point at your fingers to keep track “Okay so Monday’s, Dueling club and Gobstones, Tuesday mornings there’s charms club before charms class, Dragon club after school. Wednesdays; Slugs and Bugs—“

”Slugs and Bugs?” 

“Yes. Slugs and bugs.” You laughed, looking down at your hands. “I’m running out of room and we're only on Wednesday.” You giggled, dropping your hands to your lap. Freds eyes were wide in amazement and disbelief. 

“That’s why I never see you around. You’re in seven places at once!” He attempted to remember all of the clubs you named off, but quickly gave up, soon realizing it was a lost cause. 

“Yeah i like to stay busy” You shrug, slightly embarrassed. You look back up at Fred, his face still bewildered; you could see the wheels turning in his head. 

“Sooo… What do you like to do?” You ask, bringing him back to reality. He set the papers down in his lap, not even attempting to sort them anymore.

”I suppose just quidditch.” He looked at you, slightly disappointed that his answer wasn’t as grand as yours. 

“Oh yes!! You're a beater right? Tough position if you ask me.” You exclaimed excitedly. You could sense a switch in his demeanor after you responded positivity, secretly enjoying the way his eyes lit up. 

”Yeah. Gotta be at least a little tough if you're getting hit with bludgers.” He raised both of his arms, flexing them dramatically. 

“Maybe you got hit in the head one too many times.” You chuckled, watching the cockiness in his face switch to utter surprise. “I’m kidding im kidding” You put your hands up in defense, laughing even harder. 

“Hey..you've got the brains I've got the brawn.” He laughed, knocking his knuckles against his head, imitating an empty chamber where his brain would be.

Fred relaxes back into the sofa watching you keel over in laughter. Something deep inside him fluttered at the sound of your laugh. The way it enveloped the room, the way it unconsciously made him smile wanting to join in. Something about you pulled him to you; and he loved it. After a little while you caught your breath, getting back to sorting the papers in front of you. Making great progress, Fred just watched you, his thoughts traveling to all corners of his mind; some innocent and some not. 

Watching you made his head spin, the way you sorted the papers, how your hands brushed the hair out of your face, your eyes glancing up at him every so often. His mind was racing. He’d pick up the papers, hiding his face behind the students trying to calm himself down. He wasn’t sure how fast it got out of hand, his body reacting to his thoughts now too far gone, he had to leave. 

Wringing his hands, he felt an overwhelming sense of heat in his body. His body rambling in inappropriate thoughts, mentally kicking himself for allowing him to think of you that way; at least this fast into knowing you. Getting up from his chair, he adjusted his trousers quickly, the movement completely unknown to you, turning and facing away from you,

“I’m hitting the loo! One moment—“ he rushed out of the room, leaving you by the fireplace alone. As Fred left the common room, he immediately shut himself into the bathroom, his face hot from embarrassment. He mentally begged any god or angel above that you didn’t see anything, stress overtaking him. Running the tap, he splashed cold water on his face, cupping his hands lightly and drinking to cool his system. Looking at himself in the mirror, he paused suddenly insecure.

“Get it together Weasley.” He thought to himself. He glanced at his watch wondering how long he had left you alone. Taking another look at himself in the mirror he felt satisfied with his appearance, the blood in his body now flowing with ease. Brushing his fingers through his hair, he set out to meet you again.

Once Fred was out of sight, you glanced around the common room. Huffing lightly, you looked over at his stack of papers on the couch, the students still jumbled together. Taking them back to your pile, you sit, holding them in your hands taking the opportunity to let your mind wander. You started to think about how he looked, how he listened to you so adimentqly. He wasn’t bored by your clubs or how strange you knew about every student in the castle. But mainly you thought about him.

How his body lazily draped over the couch, his long body slightly overtaking the space between you, but in a way that was inviting, and invigorating. He laid comfortably, the conversation between you two so natural. His muscular frame, no doubt from quidditch, even when he joked about his muscles you couldn’t help but noticed how they rippled below his uniform. It was undeniably attractive, the thoughts making you shiver. Shaking your head, you attempted to physically emit the contemplation of any mutual feelings of desire.

Were you jumping too far to conclusions?

[emeritusemeritus]

hi hun, i have a story idea for you, reader and fred weasley if that's alright. reader is pregnant and is due to have her baby on new year's eve but she goes into early labour alone after an argument with fred and gives birth on christmas eve just as fred arrives to make up with her⁷

Hi Anon! Wow when I tell you this has consumed me for days, it’s taken so long to write but I just couldn’t stop! Side note, the name of Fred and Reader’s child is a name I’ve loved since I was a kid and finally got to use it in a fic where it fit perfectly. Hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: pregnancy and childbirth. Graphic descriptions of pain and labour but not of actual birth. Fast labour, precipitous labour. Reader has the pregnancy emotions. arguments and shouting, minor swearing. Reader hits Fred in the arm. Molly Weasley being the OG midwife. I may have some unresolved birth trauma of my own apparently. Happy ending I promise. Not beta read or spell checked.

Word count: 5.5k

Hark now hear the angels sing [Fred Weasley]

"And... that is the last one, we are officially ready for Christmas!"

You beam as you turn towards Fred, having tied the last bow on the last gift you had to wrap. You look at the pile of gifts and smile, partially because it meant that you no longer had to wrap a single other thing but mostly because it was a stack of gifts for your loved ones. You'd be going to the Burrow tomorrow for Christmas Eve to spend a big family Christmas back at the Weasley home and had made sure that not a single person would be missed in the gift exchange.

It was December 23rd and you couldn't be more excited for the holidays. It had snowed overnight making everything seem so much more magical and it would be the last Christmas as a couple before the little one arrived.

With one final proud look towards your pile, you gather the scissors and tape into the little bag to store them and tried to stand up from your place on the floor, realising quickly that it probably wasn't the best idea to wrap the gifts on the floor at 39 weeks pregnant. You wince at the sharp pain that runs down the length of your back at any form of movement and momentarily swallow your pride as you call out your husband.

"Little help?" You asked Fred who was sat on the sofa in your little home, tinkering with a string of lights that just didn't seem to want to work. He looks up and starts chuckling at your pathetic attempts at getting up and stretches his hand out for you to take. He lifts you with ease, something you're very impressed by factoring in your current size and giggle when he places a delicate kiss onto your nose. His hand wraps around your waist, his palm pressed against the curve of your belly with his thumb stroking the stretched skin through your T-shirt.

"Did we wrap anything for Fred jr?" He asks, smirking at you with those mischief filled eyes that you love so much.

"No. Mainly because there is, and will be, no such person."

"Oh come on sweetheart, don't you want a tiny little me running around?" His eyebrows jump up and down for effect, fingers still lovingly stroking your bump.

"I'm hoping for a George," you deadpan, breaking into a laugh when he suddenly pulls you gently towards him by tickling your side. "Anyway, she's a girl."

"Oh yeah? Mother's intuition?" Fred teases, his eyes gazing over your bump as if he's trying to see something that's not there, like an obvious clue of what gender your baby will be.

"Something like that," you smile, reaching up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his smiling lips.

Suddenly, you pull away from Fred with a brief push to his chest, showing your panicked face and the tears that are starting to well in your eyes, all glimmer of happiness gone.

"Princ-."

"I didn't get her anything!" You suddenly cry out, cutting Fred off as he notices the rather sudden change in your demeanour, your voice trembling as the feeling of complete grief consumes you. "What if she comes early and we didn't get her anything? She'll think that we don't love her! Or she'll think that Santa forgot her!"

Tears are streaming down your face now, your breaths coming quicker and quicker as guilt and shame fill your mind. What kind of mother doesn't buy her own baby a Christmas gift?

"Between the cot, the pram and the clothes we've bought for them, plus not to mention the entire house we bought after finding out they were on the way, I'd say they've had enough."

The glare that you shoot at Fred is enough to silence him instantly, the venomous look in your eyes rivalling his own mothers as he quickly realised this is not a time to make jokes.

"This little one isn't due until after Christmas," he says with a much gentler tone now, placing his hand back onto your bump. "They don't need a Christmas present, they'll already have everything they need when they pop out." He regrets his choice of words the second your eyes shoot up to his, knowing that 'pop' made it sound like an easy thing to do, which he'd been warned from almost every female member of his family that it was far from easy.

"When our baby's born," he says, trying again. "They'll have me and their beautiful mummy. And a whole family that loves them, what else could they need?"

Surprisingly, his words do offer comfort and a wave of relief washes over you as you feel calmed by the idea that the baby really did have everything they would need.

"Sorry," you say, feeling a fresh wave of shame taking over you at your slight overreaction, but Fred steps in again to give you a tight squeeze.

"Already the best mum," he whispers, rocking you gently as you stand holding each other, the Christmas lights illuminating the room in a magical display. You feel a little wiggle in your tummy and smile to yourself, your hand slipping down to cradle the spot where you could feel your little one stretching and rolling.

Everything was set for your arrival at the Burrow in the morning, the suitcase was packed with a mixture of your clothes and Fred's, everything down to your spare toothbrush. The gifts were wrapped and the cookies you'd baked earlier that mornings had been placed into a cute metal tin with a bow, placed on the table beside the front door so that you wouldn't forget them.

"Want me to load the car now?" Fred asks, poking his head around the bedroom door.

"I can help," you offer, only to be shut down a moment later by your husband.

"You will do not such thing," he says firmly, though his eyes are soft. "You are going to park your gorgeous little bum down onto the nearest, softest surface and rest."

"But."

"Doctor's orders princess," he winks, making you smile and relent, though you were hardly going to turn down the offer of sitting down for a while before bed, knowing you'd have an early start in the morning. Your back was twinging with discomfort, a crampy feeling radiating between your pelvis and your hips that made you curse yourself for the stupid idea of wrapping presents on a hard floor.

You walked downstairs to grab a warm drink and sit on the sofa with the hope of a warm fire and a Christmas film, stopping to peek out of the Christmas light filled window to watch Fred trying to fit all the presents in the boot of the car. Since you were so far into your pregnancy, almost every magical transportation option was now deemed unsafe, leaving you with only a handful of options for reaching the Burrow. Percy had very graciously secured a ministry car for you to borrow over the holidays, a fact that he was insistent upon repeating whenever it was even vaguely mentioned in conversation, including the precarious nature of securing the car during the ministry's busiest season. Regardless of your brother in laws self importance, you were thankful for his gesture and though the drive would be long, you were actually looking forward to it. You'd prepped snacks, both muggle and magical, had ensured to the point of obsession that the radio was fixed upon the muggle Christmas station so that your entire drive down would be filled with only the cheesiest Christmas songs and you'd even prepped some hot chocolate for the drive, placing two matching Christmas travel cups beside the kettle ready to make just before you left.

A loud crash pulled your attention right back to Fred as you watched him scrambling onto his feet, an array of once neatly wrapped packages on the floor around him. He looks around nervously before catching sight of you in the window, eyes widening, before he attempts to pick up the dropped presents.

Instantly you were moving to the door, your mind spiralling at the idea that they might be broken or wet from the snow, or if Fred was hurt in the skirmish.

"Are you okay?" You ask slightly breathlessly as you scramble to the door, trying to place your shoes on as quickly as you could.

"Sweetheart stay inside, it's icy and you're not coming out here until I can clear it," he says holding up a hand, eyes fixed on your bump as if you accentuate his words.

"What happened?" You ask, trying to steal a glance around his body to look for any damage to the presents that he was slowly picking up, stacking them high in his arms as he attempts to talk to you through a vision blocking stack of presents.

"Well I was trying to balance these ones and the bottom one slipped."

"You can't stack that many! No wonder they bloody fell!" You say, anger simmering under the surface as you watch more and more presents dangerously wobbling in his arms, swaying with the wind and from every movement he makes. "Stop stacking them so high."

"I can do it."

"Obviously you can't!" You snap, feeling the anger rising now from his obvious lack of care to the gifts that you had so painstakingly picked out and wrapped. "What if they're all broken?!"

"They're not all broken," he snarks.

"All? You mean there's broken ones?!" You exclaim, hardly able to push down your anger anymore. You and Fred hardly every argued, but when you did it was almost always a big one that lasted no more than five minutes before you were making up, sometimes longer if he was in the mood to sulk. Uncaring about the ice, you step outside and rush over to the back of the car where Fred continues to pick up the last of the presents from the ground, cringing at what follows when he picks up the very last one.

The telltale sound of damaged box fills your ears at a painfully ironic moment, the sound so obviously being something broken, shattered with the pieces rattling about inside. You gasp as you look upon the misshapen box, seeing the distinctive green wrapping paper all torn and wilted from the snow, knowing instantly what was inside, undoubtedly shattered beyond repair.

You're completely heartbroken at the sight before you and more angry with Fred than you ever remember being.

"You stupid git!" You say, hitting his arm as he turns to you with a look of apologetic shame, though you don't even remotely fall for it, too enraged to give a single thought to his feelings. "I told you that you couldn't carry that many! Now look what you've done!" The box falls from his hands again and lands in a heap on the floor, an ominous rattling crying out all the way down until it crashes upon making contact with the snow.

"It's just a present," he mumbles, trying to downplay the situation as he turns back towards the car, away from your body. His words and aversion to the situation only fuel your anger in the moment, seeing visions of his younger self so uncaring for the consequences of his actions even if it both directly and indirectly affected others.

"It's not just a present you git! It was Fleur's only Christmas present! You have no idea how long it took me to find it," you say, tears welling up in your eyes again as the anger turns to sorrow.'you knew how much she adored snow-globes, something from her childhood that she'd told you about in great detail one night at the Burrow. You'd gone searching around muggle antique stores for something within the brief and had been completely overwhelmed by the beauty of the snowglobe you found for her. It was a little over the budget but you didn't care, knowing how much she would love the beautifully ornate pink and gold filigree on the side, the tiny carousel horses inside that spun around with fine gold glitter covering the beautiful scene. It was decadent and beautiful, and now shattered in a box on your front drive, the glittery water leaking out of a large crack in the box and onto the snow.

"Just give her one of Ginny's," he says defensively, the hint of a shrug ghosting his coat-covered shoulders.

"Oh yeah perfect, because I'm sure she'd love a mug that says Mrs Potter to be!"

You march away from him in a foul mood, stomping your way back into the house as you close the door with a resounding slam, the wreath on the door quivering with the force.

It was the evening before Christmas Eve, you didn't have anything else to give her and you certainly couldn't show up empty handed for only one person, especially one that had become a good friend to you and who had admittedly struggled to fit in with the family at first. You felt wretched and suddenly wanted to stay at home, the idea of going to the Burrow now making you feel physically sick.

You winced as the pain in your back suddenly increased, making you grab ahold of the table beside the door for support as you felt it radiate through your back and settle into your pelvis.

"Look, why don't we just drop by somewhere on the way to mums? See if we can get a replacement." Fred says as he steps through the door, inevitably trailing snow throughout the hallway. You straighten up, recovering from the cramps and turn to him in disbelief, fresh annoyance consuming you again.

"It can't be replaced it was antique!"

"Well something similar then," he mumbles. You don't even fight his words, realising that he didn't have any semblance of idea of how hard you'd worked to make everything perfect for Christmas.

"You haven't even apologised," you huff, kicking off your shoes and wandering towards the kitchen, cringing at the pain that still remains in your lower back.

"What for?!" He asks, sounding mystified. "Hardly my fault I slipped, ice is icy funnily enough."

"Oh piss off Fred, you know it wasn't the ice," you spit out, reaching for a mug as you flick the kettle on again.

"I've had enough of this," he says angrily, marching right back out of the hall towards the front door that slams shut behind him. The silence that follows is almost suffocating as you stand looking at the place he stood only moments before.

The tears flowed freely now, though the gut wrenching sobs had stopped eventually. It had been around half an hour since your argument with Fred when you walked over to the door to attempt to reconcile, not wanting the stupid argument to ruin the last night in your home before tomorrows journey. It was getting late and you wanted to go to bed, exhausted both physically and emotionally and knew that stopping off somewhere tomorrow for a replacement gift for Fleur would only make your wake up call earlier. You sucked in a sharp breath when you stood up from the sofa, feeling a sharp pain shoot right up your pelvis and down your leg right to your toes, the cramping immediately resuming. You let out a few steady breaths and grabbed hold of your bump as if to help calm the pain and waddled towards the door.

When you saw that the car was no longer outside, with no sign of Fred anywhere and only tyre marks in the snow as proof, you knew instantly that he had left. Tears began to prickle at your eyes and you closed the door slowly with a weak shove, the tears coming once again. Fred had never left during an argument, had never just upped and decided to flee. You felt miserably guilty for your overreaction, even if it did seem deserved, and wished more than anything that you could just fix it and go to bed.

You went to make another cup of tea, needing the warmth and the comfort from the drink, the fire having long since died and the room feeling uncommonly chilly. A sharp pain suddenly radiated through your lower abdomen, like a crushing pain that tightened around your hips like a belt that was too small and you gasped, clutching hold of the counter as you waited for it to disappear. During your scramble to reach out for something solid to rest upon, the mug had been knocked to the side and you watched as your favourite mug tumbled to the floor, splintering at your feet into little ceramic shards.

The pain was increasing rather than disappearing and you felt the tightness all over your bump now. When it finally began to abate after a few seconds, your legs felt wobbly and you felt shaken, heart pounding and breathing unsteady as you tried to calm yourself. You barely managed to make it over to the sofa when the pain started again, radiating through your body with increasing intensity that felt like a wave slow building until it crashed upon the sand. You gripped the arm of the sofa as the apex of the pain consumed your body again, this time lasting even longer than before.

When the pain peaked, forcing you onto your hands and knees on the floor in front of the sofa, you realised with a sheer sense of panic that you were completely alone. You couldn't use the floo, couldn't apparate and now you also had no car to get you anywhere or to anyone. Your owl was delivering a message to the Burrow and still hadn't returned, clearly having flown to Wheezes instead, leaving you owl-less. You took long steady breaths when you could, relishing in the few moments of relief that came between your pains. It couldn't be labour, it just couldn't, even though logically you knew that it was more than possible as babies came when they were ready, not when you wanted them to.

You sighed when you felt another wave of pain starting in your extremities, rapidly increasing to a crushing pain around you back and in your last parts. The pain made you breathless and you could hardly believe how quickly things had escalated as you knelt on the floor trying to keep yourself calm but failing miserably in the middle of what you absolutely would not believe, but logically knew, was labour. You choked on a sob when you thought of Fred, that he'd left you at your most vulnerable time, that he'd miss the birth of your child and that you'd have to do this all alone. The plans you'd made for your birth were now completed ruined and you would no longer have the support of Molly, who had been overjoyed at being asked to support you. She was more than just your mother-in-law and after birthing seven children, there was no one else you trusted to guide you through labour. But now completely alone and trapped at home, would you survive? Women died in childbirth all the time, especially when birthing alone. What if the baby didn't survive? What if the cord was around their neck and you didn't know?

Almost like a switch had gone off in your mind, you focused on the task at hand, pushing all fear inducting thoughts out of your head and focused instead of what would be needed if you were going to do this alone. Warm towels, water, somewhere comfy for you to labour, somewhere warm and soft for the baby, baby clothes and a multitude of blankets. You looked towards the stairs and took a deep breath, trying your hardest to time yourself so that in the brief moments of reprieve you could climb the stairs to fetch what you'd need.

It took much longer than expected to collect everything you'd need, having to stop multiple times to cling onto the nearest surface and ride out the wave of pain that you could tell was getting worse and closer together. You'd barely made it down the stairs when another wave of pain hit you, making you stumble down the last step. You cried out at the searing pain that shot through you at the inadvertent step you'd taken, a lighting bolt of agony coursing through your pelvis, around your bump and settling deep in your groin. Your breath was shaky as you tried to recover from the pain but it didn't wane this time and instead focused purely in the centre of your pelvis. You notice by chance that it's past midnight now, the jingle of the little Christmas-themed muggle clock taunting you as to the announcement of a new day. Christmas Eve and you were alone, left to give birth entirely alone.

It takes everything you gave no to cry out, focusing instead on taking deep breaths and emitting a low groan as a way of vocalising your pain. You eventually make it back to the sofa, surrounded by all the things you'd need and allow yourself a little sob as you look at the equipment surrounding you, like an ominous scene of foreboding. Whatever motivation and strength you had previously momentarily slipped away and you allowed yourself to cry, both for the unrelenting pain and for your heartbreaking situation.

You let out another cry when a pain much stronger and more direct than before hits you full on, a crushing feeling from the inside that makes you feel lightheaded. You scramble to look down when you suddenly feel something wet beneath you, bringing your hand up to your legs to try and decipher what had caused it. You fight through another pain to pry off your wet bottoms and cast them aside, praying that you don't see any blood between your thighs. It's clear, the liquid that drips down your thighs, small sudden gushes turning to small drops as you battle to get a towel underneath you.

You're on all fours again, trying your hardest to take stabilising breaths when you hear the sound of the front door open.

"Fred!" You cry out in hope and desperation, the wail that falls from your lips an accumulation of the physical and emotional pain. It's the scream that you had wanted so desperately to let out as your body burns internally.

He's beside you in seconds and couldn't have been quicker if he'd apparated between the door and the living room. Your head falls forward as another contraction takes over, the sudden need to push consuming every instinct within you.

"I'm here sweetheart, I'm here it's okay," he coos, his hand instinctively reaching for your lower back as you circle your hips, trying desperately to bring relief.

You look up into his eyes and can see that he looks completely torn, eyes washing over your form as his mind whirls trying to formulate a plan. He looks completely overwhelmed under the surface, as much as he's pretending to be calm, panicked by the sudden chance in circumstances.

"Look sweetheart, I need to fetch mum, I'll be back in five minutes tops, I'll apparate right there and right back, can you handle that?"

He barely gets the words out before you scramble to reach out for him, clutching the bottom of his shirt desperately as you cringe from the movement of your torso.

"No please Freddie, please don't leave me alone again," you beg, already crying from the thought alone as you cling into him, tears streaming down your face. You're terrified of being alone again, desperate for him to stay by your side. You're scared and in pain, unable to think clearly.

"I won't leave," he says with a nod, trying to calm you, his brows knitting together as he tries to think of a backup. It's too late to drive you to St Mungo's and there's no way to side along apparate with you safely, especially now that labour had begun.

He does the only thing he can think of and pulls out his wand to cast his patronus, watching with a dwindling sense of hope that it would reach its destination quickly.

He pockets his wand again and turns his full attention back to you, trying to push some pressure into your back to relieve the pain in anyway he can, gently reminding you to take slow and deep breaths. There's so much that he needs to say to you, to apologise for, but that can wait until later, knowing that his focus had to be on you right now.

"Fred I need to push," you say with staggered breaths, a thin sheet of sweat covering your forehead.

"I know sweetheart, just a couple more minutes okay?" He says, still squatting down beside you. He prays to Merlin and to anyone else that might be listening for this to go well, for his patronus to have worked and failing that, for it to be an easy birth. He wasn't prepared for this, just a prankster turned businessman that had no knowledge of women's bodies beyond putting the baby there... getting it out was a completely different matter. 

"That's it sweetheart, you are doing so well, I'm so proud of you," he says, pushing back your hair that had stuck to your sweaty head, reaching for one of the little hand towels towels and enchanting it so that it was wet and cool before rubbing it softly over your forehead. You moan out and he hardly knows if it's because of the cooling sensation or because of the pain, but when you pull his washcloth holding hand back up to your forehead, he's pretty sure he has an idea.

"You are so strong princess, you're doing so well," he coos, trying his hardest to support you in your time of need. Truthfully, he was baffled how your body was doing this. You looked like you were in excruciating pain but yet you still carried on for the sake of the baby, your strength and resilience astounding him.

He jolts when he hears the telltale roar of flames in the fireplace and his heart leaps at the thought, had his patronus worked?

"Where is my, oh my dear!" Molly Weasley steps out of the floo induced flames of their fireplace and directly into the living room, giving herself a good shake as she spots her daughter in law on all fours in obvious labour. She pulls out her wand and casts a spell over herself that cleans off any sign of fireplace soot, then blasts the fireplace so that the regular flames resume to heat the home.

"Oh my dear," she rushes over, moving to kneel beside her daughter in law whose face scrunched up in pain, a silent scream of anguish falling from her lips.

"You should have got me sooner!" She points an accusing finger at her son who looks equal parts guilty and mortified as she strikes your hair out of your face, her eyes flicking between concern and anger between the two of you.

"I... I told him it wouldn't be yet," you stammer, hardly able to form the words. "I need to push!"

"Fred make yourself useful! Just like your father sat idly about, fetch some more towels and pillows from the bed, honestly you men." Molly surges into caring mode and for once Fred does exactly as she says without any backchat or hesitation. Her very presence is reassuring to you and you feel instantly calmed just by having her by your side.

"Well I have to say it, you do make beautiful babies," Molly coos as she looks at the three of you huddled together on the bed. Fred looks tired but peaceful, his arm wrapped protectively around you as your new baby stays latched on to your breast, bundled in soft blankets that her grandma had knitted especially for her. You're exhausted but overwhelmingly happy, and perhaps a little bit shocked by how quickly everything had progressed throughout the day and night.

"Right I'm off, as long as you're all okay? Oh I can't wait to tell your father he'll be overjoyed! I'm only an owl away if you need anything and I mean that, yes?"

"Thank you, for allowing me to experience this. I have a feeling this little one will be my favourite yet," Molly smiles as she leans down to glide her fingers across the little one's cheek lovingly. She looks up to you and smiles warmly, leaning down to give you a kiss on top of your head. "And very well done dear, you did brilliantly."

Fred walks his mother out, knowing that she had never liked apparating and would be using the floo to get home. You can hear their voices as they go downstairs but you can't hear what's being said and you look down at the cooing baby in your arms, watching her closed eyes and quick but steady breaths. She really is perfect, her little button nose, long lashes and tuft of distinctive red hair that was currently hidden beneath her little hat. 10 fingers, 10 toes and a striking resemblance to her dad that after the intense labour you'd just endured felt like a hilarous but tiny smack in the face.

When Fred returns, he's beaming. He pauses, leaning against the doorframe as he looks at the sight before him, his girls.

"How are you feeling sweetheart?" He asks, gently climbing onto the bed beside you.

"Exhausted," you say with a laugh, trying hard not to jiggle the little one too much with your laughter. "But I'm happy."

"Me too. Here, let me take her so you can get some rest."

You want to protest but you're worried your eyes will close at any second even though you're trying your hardest to keep them open, your body just too exhausted. You hand Fred the sleeping baby, passing her over gently like she could shatter at any moment from being so fragile and within moments of your head touching the pillow, you're out like a light.

"Wait till you meet your uncle George, and auntie Ginny, and uncle Percy, and Ron, and Charlie and Bill... there's a lot of them to remember I know, but it's mainly uncle George and Auntie Angelina you have to remember kid. Don't even get me started on the others, aunt Hermione, uncle Harry, auntie Fleur and then there's your granny and grandad."

"Trying to bore her back to sleep with your family tree?" You smile, noticing Fred and your little girl cuddled together in the little armchair in the corner next to her bassinet. He huffs a laugh, turning to you with so much adoration in his eyes that it momentarily leaves you breathless.

"Just getting her up to speed," he smirks, reaching down with his hand to grab her hand gently, "you going to say good morning to your beautiful mummy?" He gently manipulated her hand so that she gives you a little wave and you laugh, sitting up in bed with a slight wince.

"So I guess Fred Jr is off the table now eh?" He says with a wiggle of his eyebrows as he stands up from the chair, bringing your daughter over to you, her face a perfect picture of contentment.

"It was never on the table," you say with a smirk, greedily reaching for your daughter.

"Well you surprised us little one," Fred says to his daughter as she begins to stir. "Thought we'd be naming you something new yearsey, but you're a little Christmas Angel."

As if the concept of time and days had just returned to you, you realise that your daughter was born on Christmas Eve, your own little Christmas miracle.

"Holly?" Fred suggests, your nose scrunching up at the suggestion, not liking how obvious it was.

"What about Evangeline?" You ask, looking down at the sweet face, trying to weight up what name suited her the most. "Nickname Eve or Evie?"

"Evangeline Weasley..." Fred muses, as if trying it out for himself, "I love it." He beams, as if the missing puzzle piece has just slotted in to place.

"Merry Christmas little Evangeline," he coos, watching as she yawns, her eyes opening with a little squint as if by some miracle, answering to her name. Fred kisses you and you're happier than you've felt in a long time, the heartbreak of yesterday long forgotten and forgiven as you celebrate your first Christmas together as a family of 3.

[vilentia]

Lost in Darkness

Fred Weasley x reader

The sun had set long ago, leaving the world cloaked in darkness. You sat alone on a bench, the chill in the air seeping through your clothes and settling deep within your bones. The sound of footsteps drew closer and you turned to see a figure approaching you, his hair glowing in the dim light.

It was Fred Weasley, his face etched with worry and concern. You knew he had always been a friend, one of the few who had stayed by your side through thick and thin. But lately, things had been different between the two of you. There was an unspoken tension, a distance that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"Hey," he said, taking a seat beside you. "You okay?"

You shrugged, unable to find the words to express how you truly felt. The war had taken a toll on everyone, leaving behind a trail of destruction and loss that seemed impossible to overcome.

Fred seemed to understand, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. The warmth of his skin against yours was a welcome distraction from the pain and hurt that had settled deep within your soul.

"Listen," he began, his voice soft and soothing. "I know things have been tough lately. But you don't have to go through this alone."

You looked up at him, taking in the intensity of his gaze. There was something in his eyes, something that made your heart skip a beat.

"I'm here for you," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Always."

In that moment, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe things between the two of you could be different. Maybe you could find solace in each other's company, even in the darkest of times.

But as the weeks went by, that hope began to fade. You could feel the distance between the two of you growing with each passing day, a barrier that seemed impossible to break through.

You tried to talk to him, to share your fears and worries, but he always seemed to have somewhere else to be, something else to do. It was as if he was trying to avoid you, to keep you at arm's length.

And then, one day, it all came crashing down. You found out that he had been seeing someone else, someone who wasn't you. The pain was overwhelming, a deep ache that seemed to consume every part of you.

You tried to keep it together, to pretend that everything was fine, but it was too much. The weight of your heartbreak was too heavy to bear, and you found yourself falling apart.

You couldn't escape the memories, the moments you had shared with him. They haunted you, taunting you with what could have been.

The worst part was that he seemed completely oblivious to your pain. He didn't seem to realize the damage he had caused, the bruises he had left on your heart.

And so you sat alone, lost in your own thoughts, unable to find a way to heal the wounds he had inflicted. The darkness seemed to consume you, and you wondered if you would ever find a way out.