#fred weasley drabble

[lqveharrington]

Just One Smile | F.W.

summary: fred weasley was always trying to see you smile. even for just a second.

pairing: fred weasley x malfoy!reader

includes: imprisonment, draco going through hardships, crying, cursing, small bit of angst, mainly fluff, fred being the best boyfriend, kissing

a/n: i’m so busy for the next couple of months 😭

When you graduated Hogwarts, the last thing on your mind was your father’s imprisonment. You knew he was doing horrible things for the Dark Lord and he got the strict punishment for it. However, you were not onboard when they suddenly chose Draco to replace your father. Draco was merely sixteen when your aunt suggested he become a Deatheater.

You were heartbroken at the development — even more so when Draco came to your room and cried in your arms right after he received his Dark Mark. He said it burned.

Unfortunately, the visit to Diagon Alley — the one place you and Draco loved to visit — wasn’t any better.

Many shops you used to enjoy as a kid had closed and the only lively place was Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Everything else seemed ransacked or broken into, and it terrified you. The impending war already began and you knew it would be for the worse. Even Narcissa Malfoy found herself holding her children’s hands tightly when they entered Borgin and Burkes.

The Deatheaters were to give Draco his task regarding the Vanishing Cabinet, but you simply couldn’t bear the thought of your baby brother being broken down into pieces of the boy he once was — it was torture. Before anyone else could regard your presence, you slipped out of Knockturn Alley and hid in the shadows of Diagon Ally.

You tipped your head back on the brick wall and simply existed. You listened to the soft wind blowing through the broken signs and the clacking of hurried feet across the bricked road. Your eyes were shut as you thumbed the engravings of three simply words on your necklace before releasing a tired sigh.

With your father in Azkaban and your mother in shambles about the entire situation, you were in charge of caring for Draco — and Merlin knows that boy could be stubborn. All you wanted to do was run away from the mess the Dark Lord created and completely leave the wizarding world, but you could never do that to your mother and brother. You could never leave him.

Taking another shaky breath, you composed yourself and entered Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. You prayed that the store would ease — distract — your mind for at least a few minutes before your mother would come find you.

And distract it did.

There were fireworks going off at every corner and the displays were so colorful you swore you were in a children’s coloring book. There were little kids running around moving staircases leading up further into the store and students testing out products that would surely get them out of class.

You only just missed a Gryffindor trying out a portable swamp. You would’ve thrown a fit if the muck got on your clothing — your aunt Andromeda gifted you the black dress for your birthday.

Tucking a strand of your platinum blonde hair behind your ear, you snuck past the love potion display and headed up the stairs, gaze glued onto a product you were a victim to many times.

Flashback: Year 3

“Why do you spend all your time trying to impress Malfoy? You know their entire family hates us.” George rested his head against his palm as he watched his twin set up an elaborate prank down the end of the dungeon hall. “More importantly, she hates you.”

“She does not!” Fred protested and settled beside him, string wrapped around one hand on his. “Besides, I just want to see one tiny little smile from her — that’s all.”

George rolled his eyes and patted his brother on the back, “Whatever you say, Freddie.”

He knew that setting dungbombs on you was not going to make you happy, but George wanted to see his twin crash and burn after your wrath. It was truly going to be a sight to see; The Slytherin Princess cursing out the Joker of Gryffindor.

Fred shoved a hand to his brother’s shoulder before peering over the half wall to spy on the students leaving the Slytherin common room. It took him weeks to memorize your schedule, and he knew Fridays were the days you would head out to the Black Lake to read.

Why willing spend your free time reading when you could do anything else? We go to a magic school, for Godric’s sake. Fred thought before shaking it off, eyes locked on your approaching figure.

Unfortunately, Frederick Gideon Weasley was about to catch you after the worst week of your life.

You were walking with your godfather when a fog of green consumed your every being. A horrid stench filled the air as you began to wave your hand in front of you face, eyes watering from how pungent the scent was. The green muck colored your blonde hair and your perfectly pressed clothes were wrinkled from how abrupt the attack was.

Snape waved his wand over the hall and scanned the growing crowd of students, piercing eyes scouring for guilty faces before scoffing. He pulled you with him and headed straight for the horrified twins he found hiding behind the stone wall.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor. Each." He glared at the Weasley boys and confiscated Fred's leftover dungbombs. "I will be owling your mother and Professor McGonagall will determine your punishments. For now, I expect you both to apologize to Miss Malfoy this instant."

You looked away from the red-haired boys, refusing to show how vulnerable you were at the moment. You were supposed to be composed and poised, but they always made your life difficult. Perhaps your father truly was right about them.

George apologized quite quickly — he knew he wasn't at fault here. On the other hand, Fred ran his fingers through his hair and met your eyes, his own widening at how cold they were. You were on the verge of tears, yet you looked like you were going to murder him.

"I'm so sorry, Malfoy. I didn't mean to—"

You shook your head and pointed a manicured nail to his chest, your grey eyes practically red. "Stay away from me, Weasley. I don't know what you and your brother have against me, but I swear to Merlin this is the very last time you prank me or my father gets your muggle obsessed father fired."

Leaving a gaping Fred and George, you whipped around toward the Slytherin common room and stayed there for the rest of the day. Snape rolled his eyes at the two boys before taking his own leave — presumably to McGonagall's office.

"Bloody hell." George rubbed his face and shook his head, eyeing his brother. He didn't know what he was thinking, but the stupid look on his face meant another stupid idea. And their pranks were rarely stupid. "What are you thinking about now?"

"How to apologize correctly."

End of Flashback

Shaking your head at the memory, you placed the colorful box of dungbombs back on the shelf and wandered across toward the stained glass window. The colors reflected their logo — purples, yellows, and oranges sticking out compared to the darkness of the current state of Diagon Alley.

More students ran behind you as they chased one another with fireworks, their shouts occupying the space. One student grabbed a Pygmy Puff and rested it on their shoulder, smiling brightly at the pink creature before running after the rest of the students.

You smiled at how joyful it truly was in this store. No matter who walked into the store, you were sure a smile instantly appeared on their faces. Turning your attention back toward the beautiful window, you noted the different shapes taking place.

Your finger traced the intricate details on the colored window, smiling at the stars decorating the edges of the logo. The stars were so messy compared to the rest of the window and you knew it was his personal touch to the logo. Especially the oh-so familiar constellation your middle name came from.

Flashback: Year 6

The Yule Ball was as entertaining as Professor Kettleburn teaching about Flobberworms. Intriguing at first but boring by the time you got to handle the actual event itself. You didn't even have a proper date because Draco or your father didn't approve of any of the men asking you. Instead, you went with a family friend from Durmstrang. But it couldn't be worse than Draco's date. He ended up taking Pansy Parkinson because he was so invested in all the different men asking you he forgot about his own date.

How pathetic.

By the end of the Yule Ball, you were already long gone. You found yourself climbing the stairs to the astronomy tower and clinging to your shawl at how frigid the air was when you made it to the top. Luckily, the sky was perfectly clear — just how you liked it when you wanted to find constellations.

You always made it your job to find your family's stars and constellations whenever you had the time, and tonight was no different. Instantly, you found aunt Andromeda's constellation, aunt Bellatrix's star, uncle Sirius' and uncle Regulus' bright stars, and your own constellation.

Right as you found your brother's dragon, you picked up on heavy footfalls ascending that staircase. You pulled your wand out only to find yourself releasing a breath of relief. If it were anyone else climbing those stairs, they would have found themselves stuck up here until someone came to counter the binding curse.

"You looked quite happy with your date." You murmured and wrapped your fingers around your necklace, allowing him to join you on your right. "Angelina Johnson?"

He hummed and looked up at the stars, "She thought I was Georgie when I asked her. Granted, I didn't think she would go with me."

"Mhm." You tilt your head to the left and gaze at his face, his features practically glowing underneath the night sky. "Did you want to ask her? To be your date, I mean."

Fred crossed his arms over the railing and met your curious stare, biting back a smile at how gorgeous you were when you didn't have to uphold your family's status. "No."

"No?"

"No." He cleared his throat and conjured a piece of parchment with a wave of his wand, unfolding the crinkled note. "I wanted to ask my dear girlfriend to the ball, but it seemed like her brother was out to get every male she encountered."

You rolled your eyes and rested your head in your palm, tucking a loose piece of blond hair behind your ear. Draco was out to get everyone for the last two months and you were glad he nor your father knew about you and Fred. It would cause an uproar between both families.

"What's that?" You gestured to the parchment in his hand, eyes gleaming with curiosity when he handed it to you. On the inside of the note, there was a messy drawing of the Lyra constellation. Each star did not look like a star, but you appreciated the effort. "When did you make this, Weasley?"

"Meant to give it to you with your Christmas Present." Fred shifted around his spot to lean back on the railing instead, keeping you in his eye line. He narrowed his eyes when you cracked the smallest smile, "What are you laughing for?"

"M'not laughing." You tuck the parchment away and school your expression. "It's just... Your stars aren't stars."

He gasped and clutched his heart in a dramatic fashion, making it seem like he was about to fall off the tower. "You wound me, princess. I worked hard on making that drawing for you."

"Well, I love it either way." You pat his chest and melt in his arms when he pulls you in, his lips kissing your forehead in an affectionate manner you were never used to. "Maybe I should put you up for drawing lessons if your Weasley products are coming out of your designs."

"George designs all our products," He countered and thumbed your green dress, the silk touch rival to the softness of your hands. "I'm merely the genius behind all charms and potions."

You hum and lace your hand with a free one of his, letting him sway the both of you to the nonexistent music. You weren't exactly sure when you stopped loathing Fred after his horrid pranks toward you, but you wouldn't change the outcome. Sure, you had to hide your entire relationship from everyone — everyone except George — but you were sure it was going to be alright eventually.

"I expect to see that brilliant mind of your displayed in a store then."

"Expect it soon." He grinned and leaned down to capture your waiting lips. "Our shop will be displayed for everyone to see, even your dear father and brother."

End of Flashback

You were so enthralled by the added constellation that you didn't notice the looming presence behind you until a voice spoke up, spooking you. Your heart was racing when you heard your name fall from the person's lips only to find the person you hadn't seen in months.

"I've been waiting for you to visit, princess." Fred crossed his arms and leaned on the shelf beside him, waving his hand to redirect a staircase toward the other side of the room, leaving the both of you isolated on a small platform of the store. "How are you feeling?"

"So tired." You whispered before wrapping yourself in his familiar hold, burying your head in his chest. "Nothing good has happened since you left, Freddie."

"I heard about your father." He murmured and ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I'm sorry."

You scoffed and shook your head, eyes drawn to his crooked lapels. Straightening out his suit, you smoothed your hand over the front and curled your other hand lightly around his mustard colored tie. Despite everything going on, you attention to detail was always on. "Don't be, he deserved what was coming for him. I'm more worried about mother and Draco."

Fred nodded and scanned over your face. It was rare for him to ever worry about you — you were always so independent — but right now, you needed all the love an reassurance. He could see all the stress taking a toll on you. The makeup you wore did little to conceal the dark spots underneath your eyes. Most likely, you were in charge at home. With Lucius in jail and Narcissa worrying about her baby boy and husband, you had to handle all other affairs.

"Do you need a second away from all the chaos?" He gestured to the office a few steps away, lacing his hand with yours. "I can take a short break to hang around."

"I just needed a second away from the impending war outside." You muttered and flattened your hand over his heart, counting the beats per minute. "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes does help distract the mind."

"It does." He smiled down at you, earning a weak grin back. "Oh, come on. Let me see a big smile."

"I don't have one in me." You sigh. No matter what you did, the happy memories you had locked away in your mind wasn't enough to conjure a pure smile. You don't think it would be enough to even create a simple Patronus.

Fred kissed the back of your hand and watched your eyes light up at the simple gesture. "Just one smile, princess."

"Fred—"

"Please? I want to see if the former Slytherin Princess can still smile for the former Gryffindor Joker. Even for a split second." He murmured, pulling you closer to him until there was no room for movement. Tilting his head down to accommodate your height, he met your glossy eyes. "What?"

"I missed you." You admit and peck the corner of his lips. "Nothing at home can ever replace the feeling I get when I'm with you..."

"I think you missed." Fred tapped his lips with a singular finger, a mischievous grin replacing his innocent smile.

No matter your shared history with him, he would always be the prankster you met your first year. The same person your father warned you about since your birth. The memory of him pranking you in his third year haunted Fred like a ghost, but his apology made those ghosts disappear and hopefully — even if he didn't know the extent of your home life — he could make your ghosts disappear.

You narrow your eyes but make no move to correct your miscalculation, teasing him ever so slightly. "I don't make mistakes, Weasley."

"Sure, you don't." He dipped you and captured your soft lips with his, catching you by surprise. Hell, he even swallowed your gasp before you allowed yourself to get lost in his gesture. When he pulled away, he caught your bashful smile and tinted cheeks. "There we are."

"I feel like you broke some company conduct, Weasley." You put a hand over your mouth like you committed a crime, cheeks reddening by the second.

He shrugged, "I own the company."

"Fred." You gently smack his chest, earning a chuckle from him. Glancing at the huge clock behind him — each character that was displayed on the numbers representing a person in the Weasley family — you silently curse and separate from him, leaving one last kiss to his lips. "I have to go before mother realizes I completely left her side."

"Owl me when you can, princess." He squeezed your hand and sent you one last smile before you wandered out of the store.

Fred Weasley may have been an enemy from the beginning, but he was everything you could ever hope for. Especially when he could get a simple smile to grace your lips despite everything you have ever been through.

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

[fear-is-truth]

warnings — suggestive ⋆ manipulation

the weasley twins are absolute menaces.

they love messing with you. love how easy it is to slip into each other’s roles, how seamlessly they weave deception into pleasure, leaving you dazed and pliant. the teasing starts small—fred whispering something filthy in your ear that you swear george had said just yesterday. catching a glimpse of a hickey beneath george’s collar, a mark you’re sure you left on fred this morning. half the time you don’t even know which one’s between your legs until it’s far, far too late to care.

they love it almost as much as they love you.

you don’t realise, at first.

or maybe you do. maybe it’s just easier to pretend you don’t. the twins think it’s so funny. well—fred thinks it’s how you hesitate before moaning out a name, and george just enjoys the privilege of getting to bend you over the nearest surface whenever he likes.

it always starts the same way:

“y’alright, love?”one of them drawls one afternoon, leaning against the wall, arms folded loosely over his chest. “look a bit peaky.”

you glare at him over your book, unimpressed.

“gee, wonder why.”

his grin only widens.

“haven’t the foggiest,”

you don’t believe it for a second. but before you can fire back, fred (or maybe george, you’re not sure anymore) is already plucking the book from your hands, flipping through the pages idly.

“good read, this?” he muses, thumbing through the text “can’t imagine it’s half as entertainin’ as last night.”

your cheeks burn. “piss off.”

but he doesn’t. obviously. instead, he leans in, tucking himself into your space, smelling like bergamot and ink and something sweeter underneath.

“actually,” he murmurs thoughtfully, “was thinkin’ we ought to have a bit of a repeat performance.”

“again?”

fred grins. “reckon so, yeah.”

“fred,” you groan, half-exasperated, half-pleading. “i can barely walk.”

“right, right. s’pose we should give you a break.”

and then—

“good thing i’m george, then, innit?”

your stomach drops.

“what d’you say, love?” he drawls, fingers skimming the inside of your wrist. “gonna let me have my turn, or am i gonna have to start convincing you?”

wait. wait. your eyes narrow in suspicion.

“hold on.. i thought you had your turn.”

“oh, i did,” he agrees. “but you’re so accommodating.”before you can so much as protest, he’s already hoisting you up, making his way toward the nearest empty classroom. you groan into his shoulder, equal parts exhausted and exasperated. “you two are the worst.”

“yeah, but something tells me you love it,”

you don’t answer.

you can’t, really—not when he’s already shoving you up against the desk, tilting your chin up so he can kiss you properly, swallowing whatever pitiful resistance you might have left.

[rottenherbs]

Lover

Pairing: F.W x Reader Request: “It sounds so cliche, but my request involves Taylor Swift's Lover song — I think this scene of mine might be fitting around the time of GoF for the yule ball scene and his long hair era. And on behalf of the reader's house, it's really up to you, but I would say her demeanor is a shy or a lone type of girl that prefers to avoid attention and crowded places at all cost (for the sake of the plot 🥲). And because of this, it took some time for Fred to eventually notice her, but when he did, she got him wrapped around her fingers entirely just by existing. Word Count: W/C: 3.2k A/N: Ravenclaw was chosen! Though I must say it is not mentioned frequently so reader! Could be easily manipulated to be Hufflepuff or Slytherin. I also think playing the song once the Yule Ball scene starts is ACTUALLY so cute. Thank you so much for requesting <3 [masterlist] Much Love, Saige

Unbelievable. Your mother has sent yet another letter through the post asking about what you were going to wear to the Yule Ball. It was not your definition of fun…perse, but that was only because you knew no one was going to ask you. Even just the thought of going stag made your hands shake.

Sitting in the great hall alone, you hesitated to open it. The thought of being berated yet again to ‘gain some courage’ or ‘go with a friend’ just frustrated you slightly. You knew your mother didn’t understand your social anxiety or lack of relationships at school, but reading the words felt like a stab in the gut. You set it to the side as you finished your jam and toast, relishing in the morning light. After a few minutes, you took a deep breath, picking back up the envelope slowly.

A boisterous crowd entered the great hall catching your attention; letter still in hand. Their scarlet and gold uniforms almost gave it away before their fiery red hair did. As they walked, they laughed and hit each other on the back, plopping themself into the gryffindor table just a few feet away. Luckily for you, they sat with their backs turned; but even then you could recognize which twin was which. Fred often would whip the dangling hair in front of his face with his head, while George would tuck the hair quickly behind his ears. Their movements mirrored each other in many ways, even the food they grabbed as they built their breakfast plates, but something made you see Fred differently.

After a few moments you looked away, embarrassed at yourself for staring. You held the letter in your hands, slipping your nail under the fold opening it delicately. In her usual fashion, your mother wrote on beautiful blue cardstock, a small drawing of an eagle, sloppily, yet endearingly, on the envelope.

Flipping it open, it read;

“Darling, I know you have read the last two letters I have sent. I know it seems daunting to go to a school dance but you wont regret it. Life is short. Whether or not you get asked should not hold you back from having a good time by yourself.

I love you.

Please don't hesitate to write back~~

Ps. I hope the owl dropped off a sack with this letter. Maybe you could use it to find a nice dress on my behalf.”

Just as you finished the letter, a small owl dropped a sack of coins on top of your empty plate, sending crumbs all over the table. With a small chirp, the owl flew away leaving you alone once more. You sat there for a moment, letter still in hand, looking at the cloth of coins in front of you. Exhaling, you thought over the possibilities of going to the ball. Could you muster up enough confidence to go? What if someone did ask you? You sighed lightly, conflicted with the letter and your own mental gymnastics. Fiddling with the coin sack, you made a mental note to write your mother back after class today.

Glancing over at the twins, you started daydreaming. The idea of being asked by Fred romantically at the Yule Ball, being swept away to the dance floor just as a slow dance started, what the smell of his cologne would be like, how tall he would be with you in his arms, how he would lean down to kiss yo-

Breaking you from your trance, a large old owl barreled through the postal entrance, hitting several candles on its way down. The eyes of all students in the great hall followed the train wreck as it dive bombed towards the gryffindor table.

“Errol! No!” George yelled. The bird hit the table, dropping a large parcel while knocking over several drinks and meals in the process. Your hand flew to your mouth, stifling a laugh as the chaos ensued. You watched the twins attempt to clean the area, opening the box, shooting the bird off quickly.

“Oy, looks like this ones for our little brother.” Fred chuffed, shoving the box down the table towards Ron. A ghastly red dress suit with ancient frills could be seen from miles away. As the table enveloped in laughter and disbelief, you cleared your plate gathering your belongings in your arms, quietly leaving the great hall without a trace; the thought of being whisked away by a certain tall suiter is still fresh in your mind.

———-

Over the weekend before the ball, you decided to shop around Hogsmeade in one last ditch attempt to find something you felt comfortable in. If you didn’t find something today, you were not going at all.

Wrapping your neck tightly with a scarf, you topped your head with earmuffs ready to face the elements. Snow crested the hills and paths; crunching softly under your feet.

Just ahead, two ginger boys formed snowballs in their hands, one sending it up in the air while the other attempted to hit it down with another snow ball. They frolicked and played, stopping students who walked passed.

As you got closer, you crossed your fingers; praying they would let you go through without acknowledging your presence. Of course you dreamed of kissing Fred in your free time, but the idea of him even perceiving you sent shivers down your spine. Walking with your head held down, you took one step after another, thinking if you just kept moving nothing would happen.

“Hey! Sorry to bother you.” You heard a voice shout just to your left. You stopped in your tracks, eyes widening. Please don't be talking to me. Please don't be tal-

“Hey! Wait, sorry.” Fred's voice got closer with each step. You gulped, turning to face him, a small polite smile across your face. Your hands held each other in your hoodie, gripping your coin pouch tightly in any attempt to calm your nerves.

“Could you settle a debate? We could use an outside interpretation of something.” He gestured towards George just off the path. You made eye contact with George, waving you over. The words were caught in your throat. You attempted to find a response.

What could you say?

You stumbled over words, stuttering slightly before huffing and just nodding your head in agreement.

“Great! You wont regret it.” Fred said, pulling you over to George. “I think…” He added, just under his breath. Your arm was intertwined with his for only a moment as he pulled you to the side. George walked up to you both, a smile plastered from ear to ear. You suddenly became aware of what was happening, stopping in your tracks.

”I swear if you are pranking me.” You mumbled, brows furrowed. Fred stopped just a foot ahead of you, his eyes widening. His hands released your arm, holding his hands up in defense. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes glistened against the snow. His nose and cheeks red from the cold, sniffling slightly. He took a small step towards you shaking his head. Fred could feel the sudden apprehension from you, worried you thought they would do something cruel.

“No no I promise. Purely just need your opinion for our business.” Fred waited for a moment, both of your eyes attempting to read the emotion on the others. His heart fluttered as you looked over his face, suddenly taken aback by your beauty. His brain wracked any previous memory of you, in the hallways, or in class, at meals. He had never seen you before and it astonished him. He thought he knew everyone.

You didn’t respond, just a small smile building across your cheeks walking towards him with more confidence. George looked between you and Fred several times, already sensing something growing between the tension. George smirked but kept to himself, knowing he’d be able to inquire later.

“Simply put, we need a consensus of the general public, you see, from students we don't typically sell to, and that's where you come in” Fred gestured to a small box behind George, hidden in the snow. You fiddled lightly with the coins in your pocket, waiting for the big reveal. Fred leaned down, picking up the box and holding it in front of you.

“Now. Just tell me which item you would be more compelled to buy.” Opening it slowly, two large spheres wrapped in foil laid neatly in the box; one gold, one silver. You leaned in, trying to get a better look. The twins stood silent, awaiting your response.

”Gold.” You spoke, looking up at them both. They looked back at you, and then at each other for a moment. Fred nodded in acknowledgment, his bottom lip out slightly almost as if he was impressed by your answer. He closed the box quickly and turned to George. Their movements were fast and abrupt, taking you by surprise. They slid the box in a satchel, Fred lifting the strap over his head and across his torso.

“Thank you so much for your participation.” George dramatically bowed, Fred following. Fred glanced up at you as he leaned, winking at you before he looked back down. Your heart raced, standing still. As they rose, you stayed silent, just watching the way they proceeded, mesmerized by how Fred kept looking your way.

“We will keep in touch.” Fred whispered, turning on his heel and walking away with George. You stood alone for a moment, watching them both go down the path back to the castle. You looked around in disbelief, not sure what happened. Turning back towards hogsmeade, you couldn't stop replaying the conversation, the way he held your arm even for a moment. Maybe you were more inclined to go to the ball, the thought of seeing Fred there made it more appealing.

———- ((Lover By Taylor Swift))————-

The day had arrived and you couldn't be more tense. Like you had thought, no one had asked you to the dance, yet a part of you was happy that you could come and go at your leisure. You told yourself if it was a terrible idea, you could come back to your room and end the night early.

You sat in front of your mirror applying makeup to the best of your ability. You slipped on your gown, struggling to zip the back up, jumping around in any attempt to shimmy up the zipper. After a few minutes of bouncing and movement, you successfully adjusted the dress, looking at yourself in the mirror.

Slightly shocked in the confidence it brought you, you admired the way the dress sat on your hips and flowed to the floor; a slight swish as you moved left to right. Taking a deep breath in, you slipped on your shoes and practiced walking around your bedroom before leaving and heading out to the common room. Many of your peers all dressed in bronze and blue, a slight nod to your house colors. You could feel the tension in the room as students paired up with their partners, walking awkwardly together out of the common room. It seemed more people were more nervous than you thought, reminding you that it was just a bunch of teenagers going to a dance. Conversations in the hall were light; students attempting to participate in small talk, many stumbling over their words, fingers grabbing each other. The nerves were almost palpable coming off the students the closer you all got to the great hall.

Following the crowd, you arrived at the great hall, your hands held tightly together with your clutch, finding it to be a great fidget as your heart raced harder. Students from all houses joined together outside the great hall, not yet entering as they met and chatted with friends. The large group made you hesitate, moving through it slowly to enter the exquisitely decorated room.

You almost couldn’t recognize it. The large tables and benches were replaced with several tall round tables. Beautifully decorated christmas trees lined the walls. Snow fell from the ceiling, magically disappearing before it hit your head. You smiled, turning in a circle taking it all in. The room was beginning to fill, still giving you time to become comfortable in the space before the event started.

Fred was outside in the large crowd, watching you as you passed. He noticed you as you turned the corner, the first thing catching his eyes was your gold dress. His hands shook slightly, gripping the edge of his coat pulling it lightly. Ever since you caught his attention by hogsmeade, George hadn’t stopped teasing the way that Fred talked about you. His mind was constantly elsewhere, not able to focus on their pranks or schoolwork. As much as it annoyed George with how distant Fred was, he knew how smitten he had become and he was happy for his brother.

“You alright mate?” George whispered, noticing how Freds eyes followed you through the crowd. Fred didn’t respond, just sighed and looked at the floor.

“I’m lost Georgie. I don't know what I'm doing here.” Fred whined, his hands shoved deeply in his pant pockets. George rolled his eyes, nudging Fred over in your direction.

“She showed. That’s all you were moaning about all week! Just go talk to her. You did it once before.” George whispered, gesturing towards the entrance. “If you don't ask her, I just might.” George added, a cheeky grin growing across his face.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Fred furrowed his brows, his voice husky and dark. George just laughed, shaking his head.

“No way. That’s all you.” He patted Fred’s shoulder, pushing him towards the great hall, physically prodding him to take the next step. Fred stumbled slightly, taking a deep breath in before attempting to walk in casually.

You took a table close to the stage, sipping a small glass of punch. Glancing at the clock, you noticed a familiar redhead enter the room, your breath hitching in your throat. Almost choking on your drink, you turned and faced the front, trying to look distracted in the band setting up. You held the glass lightly, not letting your agitation show in your body language. You were cool, calm, and collected. Right?

It felt like minutes passed before Fred joined you at your table. Your back facing the entrance, not aware of his presence. He stood for a moment, admiring you from behind, the way your hair laid on your shoulders, how your back was exposed and glistened under the lights from above. He swore he could feel how soft your skin was, even from feet away, his fingers itching to know how you’d react if he reached out right then.

Instead, he cleared his throat, garnering your attention. Your eyes meet with him in a soft embrace. His chest swelled, the feeling of his body tingling just by looking at you. You smiled at him, leaning your arms on the table leaning over slightly.

“Hey.” You blushed softly, inexplicably happy to see him. Fred took a step closer to you, looking at the stage for a second. “Looks like you kept your word.” You added, looking at the band with him. His elbows leaned on the table, his muscles relaxing slightly.

“I'll always keep my word.” He cooed, looking back at you. Every time you made eye contact his brain went blank. He was entranced every time he laid eyes on you. He swore it could’ve been 20 seconds or 20 years, yet he felt under your spell.

“So. Who’s the lucky lady with you tonight?” You asked, lifting your cup to your lips. Part of you hated that you asked, but you’d rather rip the bandaid off now than be in emotional torment all night. The thought of watching him dance with someone else made you sick, but who wouldn’t ask Fred Weasley to the dance.

Fred cleared his throat, surprised by your question.

“Um..” His hand raised to the back of his head, ruffling his hair. “I may have just come for the experience. See where the night takes me.” He smiled down at the table, his eyes unable to meet yours. You nodded your head, feeling of relief rushing over your whole body. You set the cup down, both of your hands only inches apart.

“Huh…. Me too.” You mumbled, smiling at your drink. You swore you saw Fred bite his lip, but he quickly coughed, ducking his head into his elbow. You laughed, watching him regain his balance. He patted his chest dramatically, his hand now outstretched towards you.

“Please, may I get you a refill m’lady?” His voice was dramatic yet sincere, making your stomach flip. You chuckled, your hand reaching up to your lips, thinking for a moment. You reached down, handing over the glass. Both of your hands meet, the feeling of his fingers overlapping yours sending bolts of electricity through your body. Both of your eyes met each other, your hands still touching each other, as if time had stopped. He reached further, holding your hand over the glass entirely.

”Ill be back.” He smiled, your hand releasing the cup into his. Your cheeks were flush, the touch of his fingers still reminiscent of your hand. As much as you’d love a drink, you hated the idea of him leaving, even for just a moment.

“Can i go where you go?” You asked softly, your eyes bouncing between his. Fred swore he would walk across hot coals barefoot in order to hear you say that again. He felt like he could tear down mountains to get you a refill of punch. He couldn't believe what he heard. His empty hand reached down enveloping yours, the feeling so natural and warm. He pulled you lightly, walking ahead of you through the crowd.

Walking across the great hall, you swore the entire school was watching you both, the feeling surreal and uncomfortable, but all you could think about was the boy pulling you forward, hand in hand, just to get you some another drink.

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

Take me out

Take me home

Your my my my my my

Lover

[whimsicaldoxy]

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 - 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

pairing: fred weasley x reader

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

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

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[nottswitch]

⋆˙⟡♡ VENUS IN GEMINI

venus in gemini is considered to be dynamic, curious and easily bored. this placement might have troubles with deeper feelings and serious relationships, yet their sharp tongue and witty banter bring a lot of spice and excitement into their romantic and sexual lives.

bsf!fred weasley x reader

warnings: 18+ mdni, cheating, sex toys, oral (m receiving), throatfucking, mentions of masturbation (f), squirting, praise, cursing

nav // event / more

it’s been building up for a while, really. all the times you have vented to your best friend about your lack of intimacy with your boyfriend during the last couple of months, all the times you were all huffy and irritable from all the pent up sexual frustration, snapping at everyone who deserved it and those who didn’t… the last straw was when fred walked in on you humping your pillow, and your small whines and sighs made his erection instantly rouse to life. he just had to do something about it, and luckily, he knew exactly what.

"you like that, huh?"

you couldn’t really answer, since your mouth was currently stuffed with his cock – all you did was nod, blinking up at his satisfied face above you. he was kneeling next to your head on the bed, his hips slowly but deeply thrusting into you. the buzzing of the vibrator he was pressing to your throbbing clit felt so damn good, it should’ve been embarrassing that a simple toy was pleasing you better than your boyfriend. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care – not when the buttplug sitting snugly between your asscheeks provided so much pressure to the sweet spots you didn’t even know existed before.

"can’t believe your boyfriend’s such a prick," fred mused, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched you eagerly moving your head to meet his movements. "he hasn’t fucked you in what, a month?"

"two," you mumbled, barely coherent around his cock, but he definitely understood, judging by the way his smirk widened, turning into a mischievous grin.

"poor girl," he murmured, his voice breathy from the pleasure building up low in his stomach. but he knew perfectly how to hold back, letting this moment be about you. even as he fucked into your throat, he still put your pleasure first, and you definitely noticed; it turned you on even more, the feeling of being prioritized unfamiliar yet incredible all the same. "don’t worry, i’ll take care of you, honey."

fred pressed the vibrator harder against your pussy, increasing the speed as well. you moaned, your eyes rolling back as you felt yourself getting lost in mind-numbing pleasure. one of your hands was already between your legs, pushing one, then two fingers into your dripping entrance. fred immediately caught that, and it just didn’t sit right with him – not when you’d been basically forced to please yourself for so long. he pulled out of your mouth, his cock jerking up against his stomach, but he didn’t pay any attention to that for now. with his free hand he picked up a dildo he brought from the sheets and shifted to settle between your spread legs.

he kept the vibrator against your clit as he nudged the silicone tip against your entrance. by the way your hips desperately moved towards him and how wet your pussy was, he knew that prepping wouldn’t be necessary; the dildo slid inside you in a single trust, making your entire body arch off the bed.

"oh, baby," fred hummed, his voice equally as sympathetic as it was amused by your needy state and your loud, unabashed whimpers. "you’re so pretty moaning like that, love. bet your dick of a boyfriend would be so jealous right now."

you really didn’t care about your boyfriend at the moment, losing yourself completely at the overwhelming sensations – the toy moving swiftly in and out, the buttplug adding to the pressure to your inner walls, the vibrator buzzing against your aching clit… it was all too much and too incredible; you haven’t felt like this in what seemed like ages. your hands fisted the sheets as you felt your orgasm approaching, your body writhing under fred’s skillful touch.

"come on, love, cum for me. you deserve this, sweet girl."

and that was all you needed to come undone, violently, intensely, your legs trembling; your juices spilled all over the sheets and fred’s thighs, but it didn’t bother him – on the contrary, he seemed thoroughly pleased.

"that’s it, just like that," he hummed softly as he traced circles over your sensitive clit, the speed of the vibrator lowered to a steady, slow buzz. as you caught your breath, you had already made up your mind – you knew exactly who to ask if – when – you ever needed to be satisfied again.

[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?”

[agreeewrites]

what would it be like to date Fred Weasley and Cedric Diggory? 💭

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, mfm, mentions of blood, alcohol, mostly fluff and general silliness

an: had to repost this bc tumblr glitched. this is very long and jumps around a lot. forgive my enthusiasm

masterlist | divider by @strangergraphics

⋆ you never thought you’d have two boyfriends, let alone Fred Weasley and Cedric Diggory, as unlikely of a pair as you’d ever seen. the prankster and the golden boy, the pauper and the prince, but perhaps that’s exactly why they were so drawn to one another, seeing something in the other that they lacked themselves.

⋆ you’d had a crush on Cedric for as long as you could remember, just like everyone else that ever met him. but when you confided in your best friend, Fred, about your feelings, he stunned you with his own admission: he and Cedric had been a secret thing for close to a year, and Cedric had asked on more than one occasion if you’d be interested in joining them some time.

⋆ and, of course you were.

⋆ a one-time hookup became monthly, then weekly, and you quickly caught feelings for Fred along the way, and then you were studying together, grabbing dinner, visiting Hogsmeade arm in arm. it felt so natural, so right, that making it official seemed like the only logical thing to do.

⋆ it didn’t matter what anyone else thought, because you had one another.

⋆ Cedric was the romantic, and an expert date planner: picnics by the lake and hikes through the hills, candlelit dinners in the kitchens late at night.

⋆ you adored it, but Fred would sometimes get embarrassed, flustered by the other boys easy, overflowing affection, and retreat into himself.

⋆ but you and Cedric would always find a way to draw him out, bringing sweets and lots of love, and would dote on him until he smiled again, accepting that he was special and deserved to be spoiled, something he’d never experienced before

⋆ Fred was the more physical of the two of them, always reaching for hands, stealing kisses, or a cheeky handful. Physical touch was his love language, and he was constantly telling you how much he loved you. He was the king of pda, and didn’t seem at all bothered by the points Professors would knock off Gryffindor’s score for heavy-petting in the hallway.

⋆ He’d even smacked your ass in Dumbledore’s office one time, to Cedric’s profound horror. Cedric had taken two points from Gryffindor that day, the first and only time he’d ever wielded his Prefect power over one of you.

⋆ Fred, of course, was also always the tease, playing small tricks throughout the day, little things to get on your or Cedric’s nerves just so he could kiss the scowl off your faces.

⋆ it translated to the bedroom, too. Fred loved riling you up with feather light touches and open-mouthed kisses everywhere but where you needed him most, working you into a whiny, pliable mess before he’d give you even the smallest satisfaction, calling you a needy little slut in that infuriatingly sexy, mocking tone of his that drove you wild.

⋆ and Cedric…Cedric would hold you down for him, cooing in your ear about how well you were doing, and what a brave girl you were, and just a little bit longer, princess, you can do it.

⋆ he’d pretend to be empathetic, scolding Fred when he played a little rough, or teased for a little too long, but you knew that Cedric loved it as much as Fred did, especially when he got to reap the rewards of their frazzled, cockhungry girlfriend

⋆ that what you needed, pretty? I know, I know, feel so good, hm? Freddie get you nice a wet for me? he’s so sweet isn’t he?

⋆ the two of them loved to compete, pushing one another’s limits until the other either bent or snapped, usually resulting in some depraved, borderline feral sex, or a vicious argument you had to diffuse. they both had big ego’s, though Cedric wasn’t as arrogant as Fred, and neither of them were ever willing to admit when they were wrong

⋆ but when they worked together, they were an unstoppable tsunami of charm and wit, and could get away with murder if they wanted to.

⋆ this quality was especially prevalent when they played Quidditch against one another. it always brought out that extra bit of hunger for the win, and you loved watching them try to out maneuver one another on the pitch.

⋆ despite their competitive bravado, you always noticed when Fred would purposefully send a bludger wide, appearing to miss Cedric when he was actually forcing his own teammates back, giving Cedric ample room to chase the snitch. George was in on it too, and they spent half the match protecting Cedric, the other half actually playing.

⋆ Fred could never stop himself from cheering when Cedric caught the snitch, though they’d save their post-victory celebrating for underneath the stands where you’d be waiting for them, half-mad with arousal in your handmade Diggory-Weasley jersey.

⋆ when Fred played particularly brutally, merciless with his Beater's bat, you and Cedric would fold like cheap paper, taking turns sloppily sucking his cock in the showers afterwards, eager to have Fred command you the way he did the game.

⋆ Cedric was rarely so submissive, preferring to hover somewhere just shy of dominant (where Fred was a full dominant), but when Fred got rough, it was game over for the sweet-natured Hufflepuff. he’d be right there in the sub trenches with you, completely at Fred’s mercy.

⋆ there's a good boy, Ced. doesn't it feel good to let go? let me take care you? you look so handsome choking on my cock.

⋆ you loved to watch Fred and Cedric kiss, the constant push and pull as they fought for the high ground. Fred wanted desperately to wrestle Cedric into submission, but Cedric would hold out purely because he could (and he loved the frustrated little sounds Fred made when he couldn’t physically overpower him).

⋆ Cedric was a rule-follower 95% of the time, you could hardly blame him for being disobedient when he had the opportunity.

⋆ they got so heated once, that Cedric accidentally drew blood, one of his sharp canines catching Fred’s tender lip just right, and you swore Fred nearly came in his pants. He went so feral, Cedric eventually had to tap out, his gorgeous cock completely spent and limp against his thigh, his chest and neck littered with bite marks and hickeys that lasted over a week.

⋆ since then, Fred developed the habit of chewing his lip when he was turned on, a dead giveaway that you and Cedric could spot from across the Great Hall, knowing you needed to find the nearest broom closet before Fred made a near-criminal public display of affection

⋆ Poor Cedric, you and Fred loved to drive him crazy with your mischief and rule breaking. Seeing him pink-cheeked and exacerbated, amusement threatening to curve his pretty mouth into a smile when he was trying so hard to be cross. As a Prefect, he had to uphold the highest moral standard, but as your boyfriend, he was willing to fudge the rules a bit if it meant you got to have a little fun.

⋆ parties always pushed Cedric's limits. you and Fred loved to partake in the ample substances circulating around the party, and it was often on Cedric to wrangle your impulses.

⋆ freddie, get down from there before you break your neck!

⋆ darling, please get off the table--no, you don't need that particular balloon. I'll get you a different one, okay?

⋆ Fredrick Gideon Weasley, I swear to Helena, if you don't put her down!

⋆ how about we put down the shots, baby--aaand there it goes. that's your fifth one--oh, for fuck's sake. six?!

⋆ Cedric was beautiful and popular, a fact that you and Fred were well acquainted with. Everyone liked Cedric, which meant everyone wanted a piece of him. His attention, his energy, his time. Cedric tried his best, but sometimes it felt like you and Fred were fighting upstream in a gold rush.

⋆ that being said, Cedric always made it known who he belonged to, whether it was wearing Fred's tie to class “by accident”, and leaving your lipstick print on his jaw for a little longer than necessary.

⋆ He wore a ring Fred found at an antique store on the proper finger, and never took off the necklace with your birthstone you’d given him for your one year anniversary.

⋆ it was challenging, dating two of the most popular boys at Hogwarts, though they were popular for entirely different reasons.

⋆ Fred was constantly pulled around by his enormous family, as well as devoted to the work of starting the joke shop with George.

⋆ And Cedric had a laundry list of responsibilities as a Prefect and Quidditch captain, and lofty goals for his own future.

⋆ so finding time together was damn near impossible, and when you went without it, you’d find yourself sulking, doubts and anxieties creeping in during their absence

⋆ both of them hated to see you unhappy, whether it was because of them, someone else, or just a bad brain day.

⋆ Fred would make it his personal mission to make you smile. he’d bring you little gifts and sweet treats, take you to all your favorite places, track down your favorite food. whatever you wanted, whatever you needed, he would go to the ends of the earth to get it for you. he had to fix it. he was the fixer.

⋆ how can I make it better? you're breaking my heart, sweet girl. let me fix this for you.

⋆ but when that didn’t work, Cedric would come in, slipping into bed beside you, uncaring if you’d been rotting there all day, dressed in old pj’s and unshowered. he’d hold you if that’s what you wanted, or just lay beside you, a comforting warmth at your side. sometimes he’d read aloud to you, rant with you, or cry with you.

⋆ he wouldn’t pry, wouldn’t push. he’d just exist with you, meeting you where you were at and holding space for your hurt, until you were ready for he and Fred to help fix it.

⋆ meeting their families was daunting as hell for you.

⋆ the Weasleys and the Diggorys were well acquainted, albeit very different families. with the Weasleys, there was roughly 85 thousand of them, but for Cedric, it was just him and his father.

⋆ the boys arranged for their families to have dinner together at the Burrow over the summer, a typical Sunday roast with a friendly round of Quidditch after the meal.

⋆ neither family (besides George, Ron, and Ginny) had any idea that it would actually be the dinner where Cedric and Fred fessed up about their relationship, and introduced you as their third.

⋆ to your delight, the Weasleys and Cedric’s father took it in stride. you knew Cedric had been super anxious about it, and seeing the relief on his face when his father gathered all three of you into a big hug had to be one of the happiest moments of your life.

⋆ your life with them was chaotic, full of adventure and fun, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[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.

[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!

[imagineweasley]

Hellooo could you possibly do Fred Weasley x reader who has bad anxiety and as a result is always picking at her skin or biting her nails :)

author's note: as a skin picker and a fred lover, i absolutely love this!! thank you for requesting and i hope you enjoy! :) (also sorry this took so long, my writer's block has really been acting up but i think i'm baaaaack people!)

--

Fred Weasley's Remedy to Nail Biting

Fred Weasley x reader

summary: when you are anxious, you always bite your nails and pick at your skin. your latest worry is about meeting mr and mrs weasley, and fred notices and is able to reassure you.

y/n: your name

word count: 1.1k

submit requests here! | masterlist

"Knut for your thoughts?" Fred's low voice brought y/n back to breakfast, where she was sitting staring at a full plate of eggs, sausage, a pile of potatoes, and toast, but she hadn't touched anything. Fred had made up this plate for y/n, noticing she was sitting absolutely still and staring at the wall ahead with a faraway look in her eyes. The only movement was her hands fidgeting in her lap.

"Hm?" There was some slight movement as Fred's voice broke her trance and she turned and inch towards him, the look in her eyes not quite gone.

"What's on your mind?" He said, raising his eyebrows.

Y/n was quick to wave his question off and said, "I don't know what you mean, love. I'm perfectly fine. See?" She hastily grabbed her toast, now soggy from the eggs, and took a large bite. She winced as she swallowed a bit too quickly and the lump of bread slid agonizingly down her throat.

Fred chuckled and took her hand by her wrist. He held it up for her to see: her cuticles were raw and her nails ragged, even some blood pooled at the crevice along the side of her nails.

She'd been caught and she knew it. Leave it up to Fred to catch her every mood and movement. It was no surprise though, Fred was already quite observant person -- you had to be in order to charm all the pies at dinner to dance on the Slytherins' heads after a particularly bad Quidditch match and not get caught. Not to mention the fact that y/n and Fred had known each other for years now, dating for almost two.

Y/n sighed and said, "Fine, you caught me. Can we... can we talk somewhere more quiet?"

Fred was quick to nod, and immediately got up with his plate full of food, or rather, his plate piled with fatty bacon and one piece of melon. "Mr. Weasley, allow me to remind you that no food items are allowed to be taken out of the Great Hall." Nearly Headless Nick floated in front of the two blocking their way, but Fred simply blew him a kiss and replied, "Nick, my girlfriend is in crisis, respectfully piss off." They walked past the gasping ghost out of the hall.

On the way out, y/n caught Hermione shooting you a worried look and she gave her a small reassuring smile -- fake, but convincing. George was too busy to notice, plotting god-knows-what with Lee Jordan, and Ron was off in his own world stuffing his face with pastries and slipping some into his bag. Harry was picking at his food, his usual moody morning self, and everyone knew not to disturb him until at least 9:00 am.

The two made it into a small classroom just outside the Great Hall, and Fred pulled up a chair for y/n. After planting a kiss on top of her head, he sat down himself and leaned forward. "Now, what is daring to bother m'lady?"

Y/n sighed and without her even knowing, her hand found their way to her mouth and she started chewing at the raw skin again. Fred gently held her hand in his to stop her.

"Well," She paused and took a deep breath, "Iknowit'sstupidandIfeelridiculousevensayingoutloudbutI'vebeenreallynervousaboutmeetingyourparentseventhoughIknowtheyareperfectlynicepeopleandyoutellmetheyalreadylovemebutwhatiftheyseemeandtheydecidetheyhatemeandthenyoubreakupwithme."

Fred was silent, processing the jumble of words that had just tumbled out of y/n's mouth, but mostly stifling a laugh. His silence was making y/n nervous though, and she whined, "Fred, please say something!"

Fred coughed, a poor attempt to cover his laugh, before squeezing y/n's hand.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea you were feeling this way." He tried to make eye contact with y/n but she looked down at the floor. He gently lifted her chin and fixed his eyes on hers. He said, "I know it's nerve-wracking to meet parents. Trust me, when I was meeting yours over the holidays, I was this close--" He held his index finger and thumb a millimeter apart from each other, "-- to soiling my pants." This earned a chuckle from y/n, and Fred's heart lifted at seeing her relax a little.

"I didn't know that you were nervous." Y/n said, genuinely surprised that her boyfriend, always so confident in social situations, had been nervous to meet her parents. It had gone swimmingly of course, and now her father was impatiently waiting for Fred to ask for his blessing and her mother was simply bursting for grandchildren (a bit premature, she thought).

"Of course I was, y/n. Meeting the love of my life's parents was a big deal to me. But look at me! I'm just a very handsome, very hilarious, very smart git and they love me!" He grinned at her and continued, "And blimey, imagine how much my parents are going to love you when you are all of that and more. My mother is going to be yelling at me to put a ring on it already and my father is going to keep you up all night blabbering on about, I don't know, car engines or something."

Y/n finally laughed her normal laugh, and he couldn't help but lean forward and kiss her. She giggled against his lips and grabbed his shirt to pull him deeper. He then enveloped her in a tight hug, his right arm wrapping around her waist and the other slung over her shoulder and cradling her head to bring her even closer. He hugged her like this because he always hoped that they could melt into one if he hugged her tight enough. He closed his eyes and breathed in the sweet scent of her perfume, and warmth ran through his body.

He finally pulled away and took her hands in his. He quickly checked y/n and she was finally back to normal, shoulders relaxed and jaw unclenched. Y/n was relieved that she had told her boyfriend and only wished she had said something earlier, but was just glad that she had been able to share her burden.

With a loving smile, Fred said, "Hey, and thank you for telling me. I'm glad you didn't hold that in to yourself. I know you like doing things on your own, but you shouldn't have to carry this sort of stuff alone." He kissed her forehead, his left cheek, her right cheek, and her nose, then leaned his forehead on hers for a moment. "And merlin, am I excited to spend the summer with you."

Y/n closed her eyes and they rested on each other for a minute before Fred broke the silence.

"I need you to save those hands for me too," he said, winking, "I tend to like what they do for me."

Y/n, always quick-witted, said cooly, "Since you were so sweet to me, maybe you'll even get some of my hands later today." She winked right back at him and laughing, dragged a now-drooling Fred out of the classroom as the rest of the students spilled out of the Great Hall to begin the day.

[pomegranatesarchive]

hello can i pls request rasgulla and pani puro with fred weasley??? (in my head it’s like a friends to lovers type situation)

rasgulla: "why are you looking at me like that?" pani puri: "you kissed me! you kissed me, how's that not a big deal?"

You knew it was a mistake the second you pulled back from Fred. His eyes were closed in complete bliss, lips puckered out slightly.

You cringed into yourself slightly, looking everywhere but at the boy in front of you.

You didnt see it, but Fred's lips slowly turned upward into a smile.

You paused, taking a slight breath, "I'm...sorry." you whispered.

You two stood in silence for a couple minutes before you gained the courage to turn and look at your best friend. He was staring at you will the widest eyes you'd ever seen, his cheeks pink with a goofy smile on his face.

"What?" you asked defensively, wrapping your arms around yourself, "Why are you looking at me like that?" you gave him a look.

He shook his head, seemingly trying to gather his thoughts, but you had already turned with a scoff, "Whatever Fred—"

Fred, with panicked eyes, gripped your wrist, turning you back around, "Wait, wait, what's wrong?"

You snatched your hand back, "Nothing's wrong, okay? Just forget about it."

Fred opened and shut his mouth multiple times, "Forget? About...the kiss?"

"Yes, Fred! What else would I possibly be talking about," you snapped, rolling your eyes, "It's not a big deal, mistakes happen."

Suddenly, Fred looked incredibly offended, "Not a big deal? Mistake?" He shook his head, "No no! You kissed me. You kissed me, how's that not a big deal?"

You spluttered, looking around the dark hallway with your mouth open in shock as if you had an audience "J-just forget about it okay? Don't ruin this."

"You ruined this the second you kissed me!"

"It was a mistake!"

"You're hurting my feelings!"

You both paused, taking deep breaths, it was Fred who broke the silence, "We've known each other for ten years."

you could only nod, "You've been my best friend for eight years." he continued.

You resisted the urge to make a snarky comment, Fred stuttered for a moment, "And I've been in love with you for five years."

You two stared at each other awkwardly, both taking deep breaths in and out. Finally, it was you who broke the silence, "I thought George was your best friend."

The ginger gave you an unimpressed look, and instantly you felt horrible, "Sorry for saying our kiss was a mistake."

Fred only nodded, "It wasn't.. I was just, I dunno, didnt want to make it awkward I guess." you shrugged, playing with the loose string on your robe.

Fred continued to stay silent and you were starting to worry, "I really am sorry....it was a big deal, a really big deal. Like huge."

You peered up at him, who simply stared down blankly, "Are you mad at me?" you murmured, "Because you can if you want— I was mean—"

"Can we kiss again?"

You paused, mind going blank, before quickly nodding, "Yes, yes we can."

[lqveharrington]

Every Year in Greece? | F.W.

summary: after ten years of marriage, you and Fred find yourselves celebrating in Greece with your family.

pairing: dad!fred weasley x mom!reader

includes: PURE FLUFF, reader is implied pregnant at the end

a/n: I’m about to be free of all stress after March 8, so the posting should be consistent very soon!!

Love is absolutely endless. No matter how, where, or who falls in love, it was always bound to come. In your life, it came the second you met Fred Weasley in your first year at Hogwarts. Maybe it didn’t occur to you straight away that he was the true love of your life, but you knew as time went on.

Now it was your ten-year wedding anniversary.

This year, your family had collectively agreed to celebrate in Greece, with the added surprise of Molly and Arthur joining to watch over your two troublemakers—children you and Fred loved with every piece of your hearts.

Sunlight filtered through the white curtains, casting a golden glow over the room where you and Fred lay tangled beneath soft sheets. His head rested in the crook of your neck, warm breath fanning against your skin as you lazily traced patterns into the freckled expanse of his back. The world outside was quiet save for the distant sound of waves lapping against the shore. Peace. Pure, perfect peace.

Until it wasn’t.

With a burst of energy only Weasley twins possessed, the door slammed open. The newly appointed Weasley twins—Jane and Henry—launched themselves onto the bed with gleeful squeals, sending Fred jolting upright, hair tousled and eyes bleary.

“M’sorry, lovey,” you mumbled and pressed a kiss to his head as he groaned in mock agony. You reached for the two lively children, pulling them into your arms. “Now how did you two escape Nana and Papa?”

“They were busy making breakfast for us!” Jane answered with a bright grin, laughter filling the air when Fred began to tickle her. She squealed, squirming in your arms. “Daddy!”

You chuckled softly before turning your head toward Henry, his laughter quieter than his twin’s. You nudged your chin to his forehead, earning his attention. “Are you excited to head to the beach, Henry?”

He shifted in your arms and nodded, his browns eyes—the same one’s his father had—sparkling with excitement. “Yes! I’m gonna build the biggest sandcastle in the world! It’s gonna be bigger than the Burrow!”

Fred’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, Jane now in his arms and messing with his hair. “Bigger than the Burrow? Mate, we better get to the beach now before other people begin taking all the sand!”

Henry’s mouth fell agape, voice coming out as loud as his father’s. “People do that?”

You suppressed your laughter as Fred dramatically described his story about his vacation to Egypt when he was fifteen—slipping out of bed to get for the day for Godric knows how long the twins will encourage their father to keep talking.

By the time you exited the bathroom with the white sundress Fred bought you just for Greece and hair pulled back—still styled perfectly like usual—Henry was sitting crisscrossed on your side of the bed still listening to his father while Jane finished another braid in his hair. As always, Fred remained unbothered by anything his children did to his hair, especially the braids his daughter adorned him with.

“—And your uncle Georgie and I could’ve trapped your uncle Perce in the tomb when…” Fred trailed off as he saw you step out of the bathroom and began to pack for the beach. His eyes scanned your figure before meeting your eyes, your warmed cheeks saying unspoken things. “Bloody hell, your mum’s gorgeous.”

At the mention of their mother’s return, the twins whipped their heads in your direction, clambering over the bed to race into your loving arms one more. You stumbled at the sudden impact and held them close, your smile absolutely blinding to Fred.

“You two need to get out of your jammies and into beach clothes,” you squeezed their shoulders and ushered them out of the room swiftly, tilting your head out the doorway to ensure they made it to their room before turning back to Fred. “You need to change too, Weasley.”

Snapping out of his quiet daze, he finally stood and stretched like a lion, freckles that were scattered across his body practically glittering from the rays of sunlight. He met your stern look—the one where you narrowed your eyes at him with your hands on your hips—and placed a large hand on your waist, pulling you close to him.

Keeping your facade up, you bite your tongue in hopes of not letting a smile slip through. However, nothing ever gets past Fred Weasley’s careful eye.

“I suppose,” he murmured and tilted his head down to meet your eyes properly, squeezing your hip softly.

You subconsciously wet your lips and flit your eyes down to his inviting lips—instantly lifting them back to meet his teasing eyes. “Better hurry if you want to help Henry make his sandcastle.”

Fred hummed and thumbed your waist, “Sure.”

Finally giving in, you wrapped your arms around his neck as a loving smile adorned your face, pushing on your toes to be closer. You play with the hair in your reach, twirling the red hair in between your fingers. “I love you, Fred Weasley. I hope you know that.”

He grinned and closed the distance between the two of you, pressing a tender kiss to your lips and pulling you impossibly closer to him. Fred deepened the kiss ever so slightly before pulling away, leaving you in a daze and wanting more.

“I love you a helluva lot more,” he looked between your eyes and slowly release you from his hold. “I’ll see you in a minute, gorgeous.”

“You make me swoon,” you tease lightly as you moved around him to exit the room, jokingly glaring at him when he smacked your ass on the way out.

The morning sun continued to stream through the windows as the Weasley family gathered around the kitchen table, the air filled with the tantalizing aroma of Molly’s famous pancakes and Arthur’s perfectly brewed tea. Jane and Henry were already seated in front of their breakfast with the kind of enthusiasm only children could muster, syrup somehow already smeared across their cheeks when their father entered the kitchen.

And indeed, Fred Weasley indeed made you swoon.

When he wandered into the kitchen with the bag you packed for the beach, you felt your face heat up at the sight. He wore his light blue summer shirt that complimented his features beautifully—you honestly weren’t sure if he was a greek statue brought to life.

“Mum, you’re gonna cut into the plate.” Jane giggled and stopped your movements, tilting her head when you snapped your attention back to her food. “What’re you staring at daddy for?”

“Why are you being nosy?” Fred poked his daughter’s back, smiling when she laughed at the familiar feeling. “Mum can stare at me all she wants.”

Fred slid into the seat beside you, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair as he leaned in to whisper, “You know, I could get used to this. Waking up to you, the kids, and a view like that.” He gestured toward the window, where the sparkling Aegean Sea stretched out endlessly, its waves glinting like diamonds under the morning sun.

You smiled, leaning into him slightly. “Ten years of this, and you’re just now getting used to it?” You teased, nudging him with your elbow.

“Ten years of this,” he echoed, his voice softening as his gaze met yours. “And I still can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Jane scrunched her nose in playful disgust, stuffing her mouth with a fork full of pancakes with blueberries. “Ew, Daddy. You’re so mushy.”

Fred gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if she had wounded him. “Mushy? Me? I’m the definition of ruggedly handsome, Jane.”

Henry, still munching on a piece of cut up banana, giggled and shook his head. “Mum thinks you’re handsome, but you’re just silly.”

You smirked and took a sip of your tea as your kids argued with their father, knowing they were an exact replica of him. You sighed and rested a hand over your stomach, holding back a laugh when Jane stuck her tongue out at Fred.

“I happen to like silly.” You added as Fred stuck his tongue out at his daughter, making you roll your eyes in amusement.

Fred locked eyes with you and waggled his eyebrows. “I guess you're lucky too, love, because you’re stuck with me.”

The morning passed in the easy rhythm of family life—Molly and Arthur doting on their grandchildren, Fred entertaining the twins with wild hand gestures as he retold stories—this time slightly exaggerated for dramatic effect—and you soaking in every moment.

By late morning, you made your way to the beach, the golden sand warm beneath your toes. The twins raced ahead, kicking up tiny clouds of sand as they shrieked with joy. Fred, carrying the beach bag, walked beside you, fingers loosely laced with yours.

“You happy, love?” He asked, squeezing your hand gently.

You turned your face up to the sun, the salty breeze playing with your hair, and sighed contentedly. “More than I ever thought possible.”

Fred grinned and tugged you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple before lifting his voice. “Alright, team! Let’s build a sandcastle bigger than the Burrow!”

Henry and Jane cheered, already digging into the sand with determination.

You knelt beside them as you set up the blanket on the sand, laughter bubbling from your lips as Fred made a show of supervising, hands on his hips like some kind of foreman. The hours passed in golden warmth, filled with playful splashes in the sea, shrieks of delight as Fred tossed the kids into the waves, and soft, stolen kisses between you and your husband when the twins weren’t looking.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting everything in a golden glow, the four of you sat before your grand sandcastle—an uneven, slightly lopsided but utterly magnificent creation.

Jane leaned against you sleepily, her damp, red-curls sticking to her forehead. “This was the best day ever,” she murmured, yawning.

Henry nodded in agreement, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Yeah… Can we do this every year?”

You glanced at Fred, your heart swelling at the sight of him watching your children with so much love it was almost tangible. He met your eyes and smiled, the same boyish, mischievous grin you’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

“Every single year,” Fred promised, voice full of warmth.

You lean closer to him and give him a quick kiss, eyes shining with your own secret. “Maybe with one more addition to the family,” you whisper.

His eyes widened and looked down toward your stomach, grin widening when you nodded. He pulled you closer to him, in return pulling the sleepy twins along.

And in that moment—with your family nestled together, the waves whispering their lullaby, and the sky painted in fiery shades of orange and pink—you knew that love, real love, was absolutely endless.

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

[dearharriet]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No rush.”

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

“What?”

Fred shakes his head. “Nothing.”

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

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

“So?”

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

“Found it.”

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

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

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

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

“I like it already.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? I can’t say that?”

You shake your head, truly sick of his teasing.

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

“I’m complimenting you, pretty girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Am not,” you insist.

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you ever forgive me?”

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

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

The pitter-patter of your heart picks up again.

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Freddie.”

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

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

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

Just like that, he’s gone.

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

“Shouldn’t we go?” you ask.

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

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

+

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

[rottenherbs]

Off the Pitch

Pairing: 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? W/C: 1.5k A/N: 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 lightly. 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 lightly. 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 each others 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 honey dukes. My treat.” Fred whispered, rubbing your back. You nodded back, smiling deeply into his uniform.

“Yeah that would be nice”

[whimsicaldoxy]

𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 - 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

pairing: fred weasley x reader

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

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

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ta-da! A Magic 8-Ball!” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─── 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ───

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

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

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

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

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

For Fred ♡

1. STUCK IN THE MIDDLE WITH YOU - STEALERS WHEEL

2. BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY - QUEEN

3. REBEL REBEL - DAVID BOWIE

4. GO YOUR OWN WAY - FLEETWOOD MAC

5. ALL THE YOUNG DUDES - MOTT THE HOOPLE

6. RIGHT DOWN THE LINE - GERRY RAFFERTY

7. PIANO MAN - BILLY JOEL

8. HEROES - DAVID BOWIE

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

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

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

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

I, I will be king

And you, you will be queen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And I, I’ll drink all the time

Cause we’re lovers, and that is a fact

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

Yes, we’re lovers, and that is that

Though nothing, will keep us together

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fred hesitated for a moment, clearly conflicted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[nottswitch]

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

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

— ghostcore

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

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

18+ smut

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

"fuck, fred-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

the words were both a threat and a promise.

playlist

❥ after hours by the weeknd

❥ in my room by insane clown posse

❥ shrike by hozier

❥ devilish by chase atlantic

❥ sacrilegious by plvtinum