#wealsey twins

[sweetpandorabox]

Lost Sweater - Fred Weasley x Female Reader (One Shot)

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

Synopsis: Your boyfriend Fred has been looking for a specific sweater that his mom knitted him and gifted to him during Christmas last year but he couldn't seem to find it, due to its cold bold blue color he adores wearing it a whole lot, especially during cold wintery months such as these, with no luck finding it he turns to you his girlfriend of 1 year only to find that you've been wearing it all along.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Female Reader

Story Setting: This fanfiction is set in your 5th year of Hogwarts during the Order of the Phoenix.

Warnings⚠️: None this one is pure fluff.

A/N : Hey sexy it's Angel here, this week I've decided to write a super short one-shot for all of you, I'll be sure to make one of these for at least all of the Harry Potter boys and girls because it's super easy, and don't require a lot of time, anyways enjoy love you. xx

Word Count : 937

✯¸.•´¨*•✿ Lost Sweater ✿•*¨`•.¸✯

"Oh, bloody hell where is it! Fred muttered as he trashed his whole wardrobe going nuts for his favorite cobalt blue sweater with a notable golden 'F' being knit into it, George shook his head towards Fred adding a facepalm motion into his own forehead, "Mate how can you lose your favorite sweater? mom made you that last year and you wear them all the time" George added as Fred gave in. "Sigh...I've looked everywhere in this room, maybe I've left it somewhere maybe it's in the common room?... but I know I brought it with me from home" he murmured cleaning up the messy state of his wardrobe back into order. George chuckled at his frustration, "How about you wear one of the older ones you have, maybe the green ones?" he suggested leaning his back into their shared room doorframe.

Fred gives in another sigh before nodding and putting on his older navy green sweater that he's grown out of due to his height now, but he simply went with it and puts another layering jacket over the top to keep himself nice and warm. "Well I'm heading off to see my girlfriend, I'm supposed you're going to do the same huh?" George asked knowingly, Fred gives him a nod as he puts on his shoes, "Well alright then tell Y/N I said hi...I'll see you later at dinner" he mentioned leaving the door open as he leave, "Will do" Fred shouted loud enough for him to hear. Fred made his way to your dorm room still upset about his favorite sweater and couldn't help but retrace his steps when he was wearing them, but his brain was foggy he couldn't remember anything which frustrates him even more.

He finally made it into your shared dorm room, you promise him that the girls will be out doing something together and won't be back for an hour so you and Fred can cuddle for a bit before you both head out to your usual ritual of butterbeer and exploding bonbons by the lake, celebrating the weekend before Monday makes its way back through the week. 'Knock...Knock' as the sound of your wooden door echoed inside, "Oh that must be Freddie" you muttered happily, "Come in" you let out continuing to put on mascara in between your lashes by the mirror you have above your dressing table. He entered your room and closed the door behind him, "Hey beautiful how are you?" Fred asked not paying much attention to you as he takes off his scarf, beanie, and outer coat.

"Hello love I'm alright how about you?" you asked excitedly as you finished your makeup look and made your way towards Fred as his back faces you, it was a perfect opportunity for a hug from behind so you did just that. He smiles at your actions and turned around finally paying attention to you. "I'm alright as well lo-" he paused scanning you up and down, his much shorter girlfriend in her lacy underwear and a giant cobalt sweater with a golden F being knit into it topping it off with a messy bedhead-like hair. Fred blushed furiously as if red paint had made itself paint a streak straight across his face with no warning. "Babe, when did you steal that sweater? I've been looking all over the place for it... it's my favorite one" Fred asked with a slight smile on his face, you pout and looked up at him, "I-I'm sorry I saw it laying around your bed last week when I was over at your dorm room and I was cold so I took it without asking. And I never had a sweater like this one before, it's comfy and it has a giant letter, presenting the first alphabet of your name, it's rather special really" you pleaded to hope your tall ginger boyfriend would spare you from his anger.

Fred chuckled lightly at your response, "Love if you wanted a sweater just like mine you could've just asked me, mom would be more than happy to knit you one this Christmas...I bet she already did she loves you, and she thinks you're the perfect match for me because you tone down my quirky personality and you can bake.... what more could I want?" Fred mentioned still warping his arm around your waist lovingly, your face lit up with excitement. "Really? she'd do that for me? knit me my own personal sweater like this one?" you wondered as your eyes sparkled with joy, Fred chuckled louder at your response, "Well of course but for now, you can wear this one, but it's incredibly baggy on you" he touched the blue sweater watching as the hem hits around your upper thigh area which puts a smile on his face, after a bit of staring Fred couldn't resist your lips, there something about them that drives him and forced a feeling of desires to kiss it every time and so he did.

He pulled you in by the waist close to his leaving no gaps in between the both of you, he uses his pair of chocolaty brown eyes to stare deep into your soul with a smile so enthralling you often wondered to yourself if this boy was truly real at times, and before you know it he'd managed to pick you up with his strong hands and kiss you passionately that soon becomes hungry, leading Fred into landing you softly on your bed breaking the kiss leaving the both of you into a fit of giggle like young children at the park.

[archivesofthevoid]

If the Spider-Verse truly is infinite, then there's a universe where Fred is Spider-Man, and would that make George his canon event?

Sigh... don't make me think about this. /LH

but yes ABSOLUTELY

I think you might have them switched because Fred is the one that dies /also very very lh

but that reminds me of my "George Dies AU" I have where George died instead of Fred and lemme tell you,,, you guys think George was a wreck after losing his twin? Oh honey you got a big storm coming /ref /lhj

BUT YES THE TWINS AS SPIDERMAN IS,,, SUCH A TASTY THOUGHT. I'll be the gwen to George's peter BECAUSE WHO WOULDN'T WANT TO but he doesn't fail saving you this time LMAO so we can live happily,,,

anyways I'm getting off track here yes the twin's death is totally a canon event and it's hella sad-

This is making me think of a spiderverse au for these guys because I already have a spiderverse hogwarts au so why not do a swap for both??

[fredgeorgegredfeorge]

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we��re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[lordprettyflackotara]

fill the void || fred weasley

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+

It felt odd in a way, being alone for the first time.

Usually you were surrounded by your fellow Slytherins, the smell of cigarettes and cologne something your nostrils had grown accustomed to. The sound of vicious insults or bitter rants making a nest in your ears. The sight of scowls with liquor in their hands, their knuckles typically bruised and bloody.

But right now, all of that was gone. The air in the courtyard was clean, the breeze blowing past you providing you with the smell of the earth. Your sights were centered on a giant oak tree, as well as the moon that dimly illuminated the area below. It was an odd change, your surroundings being so settled. You couldn’t help but wonder what you would’ve become if you hadn’t been placed in Slytherin. Maybe yellow would’ve suited you better.

It wasn’t that you despised your housemates, even if they were a group of misfit toys. Mattheo protected you, Theo tutored you, Draco was always glued to your side. It wasn’t them that troubled you. It was what wearing the sickening shade of green meant. Submission to the dark lord. Following the ideology of pureblood nonsense. Especially being one of the only prominent girls, there was always the lingering question who’d you marry and reproduce with.

Yuck.

“Am I interrupting?”

You didn’t need to turn around. You’d recognize a Weasley’s voice anywhere. “Unfortunately not,” You admitted. You hated to admit you knew which Weasley twin it was, a lanky Fred Weasley plopping down beside you on the concrete steps. He stretched out his long legs, mere inches separating both of you. “Is there a reason you’re perched out here instead of doing shots with your friends?” Fred asked. How could you explain why? Oh yes, I am having an existential crisis because of the fact my dress is emerald. Want to go inside and split a chocolate frog?

“Where’s your other half? Didnt think you two separated,” You quipped, brushing off his question. Fred took the hint, leaning back on his hands. “Currently snogging Angelina Johnson,” He answered. This caught your attention, your head snapping to look over at him. “The chaser that wiped the floor with Blaise last season?” You asked. Sometimes you forgot how small this dreaded University actually was. Fred nodded, shrugging. “Aggressive on and off the field, just the way George likes em,” He replied.

You snorted. “Ahh yes. Makes sense a Weasley would enjoy being slutted out,” You snickered. It was too easy of a jab. Fred began to man spread, his long legs in your personal bubble. “I wouldn’t be so hasty little serpent. A few of us know how to put a brat in their place,” He smirked. The cocky motherfucker winked, heat dashing across your cheeks. You must be in a different dimension. There’s no bloody way a Weasley made you blush. “You’re cute when you blush,” Fred praised. He couldn’t help but notice how good you looked in the moonlight, the beams highlighting your features.

“Are you complimenting me Weasley?” You questioned. You avoided his gaze, trying to ignore the fact your heart skipped a beat. “Obviously not, i’m flirting with you,” Fred replied, unable to control the smile creeping across his lips. You were just so easy to tease. “What makes you think you can flirt with me?” You asked, turning your head to look over at the ginger. He shrugged, meeting your firey gaze with ease. “Perhaps it’s because we’re in the same boat, sitting out here alone in a bloody courtyard while the yule ball is less than five hundred feet away,” Fred explained. You audibly scoffed. “Weasley’s can’t afford a boat,” You spat.

Fred chuckled at your insult, your venom harmless to him. “Considering you’re out here I think it’s safe to say your boat has sank. Guess we’re on the same island together then,” He replied. You couldn’t help but find his facial expression smug. “Great,” You grumbled. You rested your chin on your knees, contemplating your life decisions. Fred sighed. “Well, if my presence really isn’t that valued i’ll relocate,” He said. He began to rise to his feet, your body doing a one eighty. You didn’t realize your hand was gripping his wrist until it was, desperately holding him in place.

“Sit down Weasley. I-,” You paused, looking up at the ginger. “I’d prefer it if you stayed.”

Fred grinned down at you mischievously, resuming his place beside you. “Figured you’d say that. Just wanted to hear you say it,” He gloated. You slapped his arm. “You’re unbearable. You know that don’t you?” You grumbled. Fred couldn’t help but laugh. Your annoyance was adorable. “You seem to like it,” He replied. You frowned as he stood up in front of you. “Do not,” You argued.

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

Fred extended his hand in front of you. The faint sound of classical music could be heard over the stillness, the wind having faded out. “Care to dance?” He asked. The choice was standing right in front of you, demanding an answer. You could say no and continue moping on the stairs. You could say no and go back inside, all eyes on you once again. Or you could say yes, potentially having a good time with a boy you didn’t belong with. Dancing with a Weasley? Draco would have a field day with this one. But Fred’s hand never looked more appealing than it did in that moment.

Hesitantly you took his hand, allowing him to bring you to your feet. Even in heels he easily towered over you, the ginger not hesitating to bring you close to his chest. “You know you can drop the bad girl act with me, I won’t tell,” Fred said, guiding you back and forth. You were an awkward dancer, despite the endless ballroom dancing classes your parents put you through. “It’s not an act,” You argue. Fred looked down at you, his face painted like he knew you. Like he could see right through your hollow shell.

“Sure it isn’t. And i’m not the best prankster in Hogwarts,” He quipped. You slowly spun you around, giving you time to catch up as you almost tripped in your heels. “You’ve really got quite an ego, don’t you Weasley?” You asked. Fred grinned as he pulled you back close to him. “Thats a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?” He asked. You glared up at him. “I think not,” You argued. Even though your words were laced with venom, you couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed his touch.

So gentle but so assertive, guiding you. Your mind strayed away, imagining him guiding you a different way. Guiding you to take his cock, to ride him until the sun came up. “Hey? Are you listening little serpent?” Fred asked, his voice coming back into frame. You blinked a few times, trying to regain your composure. “Sorry, what?” You asked. Fred slowly guided the dance to a stop, the song ending. You couldn’t help but wish it’d last forever. “I was asking what you’re thinking about,” He said.

You could feel yourself turning red, your filthy thoughts flooding to the forefront of your mind. You felt tongue tied, unable to confess your dirty fantasies. “Ohh, I see,” Fred said. You couldn’t bear to look at him in the eye, embarrassed enough to be in this position. You felt his slender fingers slide under your chin, guiding you to look up at him. You allowed him to guide you, his eyes boring into yours. You liked that, allowing him to guide you. Even if he was supposed to be bad for you, his touch put you on cloud nine.

“Do you like that? When I guide you? Take control?” Fred asked, his voice dropping an octave lower than before. You could’ve dropped to your knees in an instant. “Maybe I do,” You replied, not wanting to cave, not just yet. Fred leaned down further, pressing his lips against yours. His lips were warmer than you thought they’d be, filling the void inside of you. The void that craved approval and validation. His lips provided all of that and more. He guided you towards the giant oak tree, pinning you against it.

The sharp bark scraped at your back, a groan escaping your lips as Fred’s refused to stray from yours. You raked your hands throw his hair, pulling at the roots roughly. Fred whined into your mouth, smirking as he pulled away. “Cute,” He murmured. His eyes flickered behind you, ensuring no one was around. “As much as i’d love to make you squirm, we can’t do much here,” He whispered. You pulled him back to your lips, sliding your tongue into his mouth. You couldn’t get enough, your body craving him.

“That eager, are we?” Fred asked, pulling you back in for another kiss. You gently bit his bottom lip, pulling it towards you. “Fuck me, at the very least Weasley,” You ordered weakly, your body betraying the attempt at dominance you were spewing. Fred grinned mischievously. “Turn around for me pretty girl,” He purred. You did as asked, his large hands pushing you against the tree. You could hear the clinking of his belt, your core throbbing in anticipation.

His large hands pushed up your dress, pulling your panties to the slide. “You’re lucky we’re in the courtyard, otherwise i’d make you beg and scream for me to fuck you,” Fred purred. You felt his tip brush up and down your folds, a moan escaping your lips. One of Fred’s hands flew to your mouth. “Gotta keep quiet little serpent. Dont want anyone to hear you being a whore for a Weasley, do you?” He taunted. He pushed himself inside of you slowly, your body feeling like it may split in two.

“You’re fuckin soaked for me,” Fred mused, placing a sloppy kiss against your shoulder. Your moans were muffled by his hand, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I’m bigger than Malfoy aren’t I?” He asked teasingly as he bottomed out inside of you. You grabbed onto his wrist, yanking it away from your mouth. “In your dreams Weasley,” You spat, whimpering as he bucked his hips ever so slightly. Fred began to suck at the side of your neck, harsh enough to leave a hickey. “Dont leave marks on me,” You argued, moaning as he began to thrust into you. Fred released your neck with a pop, satisfied as the skin began to turn purple.

“Whys that? Afraid your boy toys will find out you’ve let me in between your legs?” Fred asked, beginning to pick up the pace. His pace was brutal, his hand flying back over your mouth to muffle your sinful noises. “When they ask tell them. Tell them how I ruined you. How a Gryffindor made you cum in a courtyard like a dog in heat,” Fred huffed. He continued to viciously snap his hips into yours, his cock abusing your g spot with each thrust. You moaned his name into his hand, gripping one of his wrist and the tree for support.

“You’re so fucking tight, so perfect,” Fred groaned into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He removed his hand from your mouth, his hands taking their rightful place on your hips. “I’m going to make you cum on my cock. You understand me? You’re going make a mess for me,” Fred ordered. His orders were hypnotizing, your legs beginning to shake as he held onto the fabric of your dress. You could feel the knot inside of you tighten, a familiar feeling coming.

“Please make me cum Freddie, fucking please,” You pleaded, your orgasm coming faster than you’d like to admit. Fred chuckled, fucking you mercilessly against the tree. “There she is, there’s my sweet whore. Go on, cum for me,” He panted. You squeezed his wrist tightly as you came, euphoria washing over you as you came on his shaft. Your legs trembled, threatening to give out on you at any moment. You felt Fred’s hips stutter, the ginger pulling out of you.

He guided you onto the ground, your bare knees hitting the dirt below. You stuck out your tongue, allowing Fred to cum inside of your mouth. “Holy shit,” Fred moaned, watching as you swallowed every last top. You both sat there for a moment, your highs subsiding as you soaked in what you had just done.

“Hey y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna grab a butterbeer sometime?”

“Shut up Weasley.”

[kmt123whatsthetea]

The wonders of ink

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

‘Fred and George prank you by getting your clothes dirty, only to take you to the bathrooms to help you clean off’

A/N: I decided to repost (so nobody thought I was dead). I’ve been gone for so long and I feel guilty so I decided to deliver smut upon you all haha. My dear sister helped me to write this (Her Wattpad account is @Darkness_Donut. Feel free to give her a look if you’re in the Wattpad area)

T/W: Unprotected sex, The twins being kinda pervy, Groping, Double penetration

Fred and George put a lot of work into every prank.

Whether it was as simple as a ‘Hex Me’ note on Ron’s back or as sophisticated as creating a new type of chocolate that caused facial warts.

Not only did they put work into their pranks, but they also put pride into them. Each one was like their child, born and sent into the world to cause mischief. The prank they planned for you, however, was less like a prank and more like a plot for something even better than the typical annoyed scowl the pranks were usually met with.

While other students prepared for various classes and homework projects, Fred and George would stay locked in their dorm, perfecting the key catalyst for their interaction with you.

The twins were head over heels in love with you. While most people would approach you with a normal greeting and a proposition for a date, the twins needed to do more. Go big or go home was practically their motto. So when their newest creation was ready, all they had to do was wait for the perfect moment.

____________________________________________

You had been in the courtyard. Your nose stuck in the book that was cradled in your hands. So unsuspecting and sweet. The way the wind blew your hair, how your eyes were glued to the words.

George approached you, not too close that you’d notice but close enough that he could start phase one of the plan. He pulled out a small vial, the liquid inside a dark blue that stained the glass. He took a deep breath before uncorking the bottle and taking a step closer, ‘tripping’ over the tree branch and spilling the liquid over your uniform.

You squealed and moved the book aside, looking between the fresh stain and the redhead who threw it on you.

“George! What in Merlin's beard have you done?!”

George just shrugged his shoulders, putting on an apologetic look. The same look he gave his mum when she scolded him for putting a spell on Percy’s breakfast which caused the sausages to spout legs.

“I didn’t mean too, honest. I just kinda…tripped”

You did not look pleased, understandably so. George almost felt guilty but then he remembered the plan. It was all going smoothly, even if you might disagree.

“I feel awful. How about we go to the Prefects bathroom and get you cleaned up before it dries?”

With a sigh, you followed George.

The walk to the prefect's bathroom was filled with you grumbling about the stain and scolding George for not being careful. The bathroom was empty (all thanks to a little spell that temporarily made the door disappear). The baths were filled to the brim with hot water and bubbles, steam dampening the air.

Fred emerged from around one of the pillars, smirking as he looked you up and down.

“Good job, George. I knew you could get our girl here. You know, love, you should really clean up that stain. Wouldn’t want Snape taking away our hard earned points, now would you?”

George moved closer to you, his chest barely touching your back. Fred leaned against the pillar, staring at the black spot on your shirt. You crossed your arms, letting out a huff. You could practically see the burning desire in Fred’s eyes from across the room, the heat from George sneaking through the back of your shirt and warming your skin.

“You’d both like that, huh? Why don’t I just have a bath while I'm at it?”

George ignored your sarcastic tone and leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, sweetheart. We’ll get you nice and clean”.

Something about George’s soft tone caused your hands to rise to your top button, both sets of eyes glued to your fingers as they popped open the first button of many. One by one, your shirt slowly opened. The shirt had luckily (or unluckily) caught the liquid and stopped it from seeping through to your bra and skin underneath.

George helped you to slip the fabric from off your body before Fred stepped closer and took it from him. He held it up with a smirk.

“There’s nothing here, love. Maybe you just wanted to get naked for us”.

The white shirt was clean. Not a spot or stain in sight. The sight of your wide eyes and confused look made Fred chuckle. George rubbed your arms.

“Our newest prank, disappearing ink. We heard Harry talking about how his idiot muggle cousin had some so we wanted to make our own. We made it especially for you”.

Your hand darted out to snatch the fabric from Fred, smoothing your fingers over the fabric that was once stained to see if it was really gone. Both boys watched as your expression turned from confusion to shock to a mix of desire and anger. You were angry that the twins had tricked you and pulled you away from your book but you couldn’t help but feel hot at the thought that they made an ink just to get you in your bra. Maybe a reward for all their hard work wouldn’t be so bad.

George tugged on the bra clasp, his lips ghosting down your neck before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. A shiver ran up your spine at the feeling, but you didn't push him away. Fred toyed with the hem of your skirt, watching as your eyes glazed over with desperation.

“I need you both. Please make me feel good”

Fred tugged your skirt up, using his other hand to trace his fingers over the elastic of your underwear. He slowly trails your underwear down your smooth legs and helps you step out of them so your dripping folds are on display to him. As you look upon their faces, both of them lick their bottom lips in unison. George finally pulls your bra off, tossing it with your discarded shirt.

How could you look so innocent in just your skirt with your tits out? To the twins, you were like a graceful doe who wandered into the hunters' den. George practically growled as his hands groped your tits, squeezing the sensitive flesh. Your eyes closed and you let out a whimper that was sweeter than any sugary treat from Honeydukes.

Fred took the opportunity to unzip his trousers, shimmying them down enough to pull his cock out. Every noise that escaped your lips made it jerk in his hand. He stepped closer, his tip pressing snugly against your clit and leaving a splodge of precum. His hand wrapped around your thigh, tugging it up and over his hip while George held you upright. His head speared through your folds, your slick coating his shaft.

“Do you want this, love? You want me inside of you? Maybe we should see if that tight little hole can handle Georgie and I at the same time. I can feel how wet that makes you, Sweetheart. The thought of taking two cocks, we’d break that sweet pussy open”

George tugged at your earlobe with your teeth, only pulling back when a whine bubbled up from your throat.

“I think you want us to ruin you for other men”

Your voice couldn't have been more than a whisper, but it was filled with every dirty promise and beg that would only be privy to the twins’ ears.

“I want you two. I want other guys to look at me and know that I belong to you”

“Sweetheart, you already belong to us”

George moved his hand down to push his trousers down and pull his cock out, pressing it at your entrance before pulling you against him. His cock slid inside of you, your warm cunt hugging his shaft.

Fred brushed his fingertips against your clit, taking in the sight of your hole stretched around his brother's cock. It was gonna be a tight fit. He nudged at your entrance, his tip trying to find a space big enough to squeeze into. With a bit more persistence, he was pushing forward, the desperation to be buried inside of you fueling him.

You tried to stay still, trying not to squirm or clench. The stretch was so intense that you swore you could even feel the blood pumping through the veins decorating their shafts. Every pulse, every nudge felt like it would rip you in two.

When Fred’s tip finally pushed through the small opening, the squealed moan that left your lips was enough for George to press his hand to your lips to muffle any sound. As much as they loved the noises you were making, they couldn’t get suspended so close to graduating. There would always be other occasions to hear your pretty moans.

The sight was one to behold. The twins wished they could photograph your pussy stuffed with both of their cocks and frame it, only to watch the replay over and over.

An obscene squelching filled the room as they repeatedly stuffed their cocks into you. The stretch brings you closer to the edge than ever before. Your walls clenched, trying to both push their cocks out and pull them deeper. It didn't take long before you were cumming, clenching around them in a desperate need to be full of their cum.

George's hand stayed over your mouth, his lips whispering sweet praises in your ear. Fred lips were pressed against your forehead, giving chaste kisses here and there. Their groans echoed throughout the room when they felt you cum around them. You felt too good to be true. It took them 3 months to make that ink.

It was worth every single minute.

A mix of their cum flooded your insides, but there was so much that it started spilling out. But they didn't pull out just yet. With how much effort went into getting you between them, they were gonna make this last for as long as possible. It was only after they came down from their high that they noticed just how much of a mess you all made. Cum spots stained your skirt and their trousers. Fred’s chuckle caught your attention.

“Maybe we should clean you up for real this time”

[jupitereleven]

my “twins weasley phase” wasn’t just a phase.

[raekensluver]

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟷𝟷 — ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴋɪɴᴋ

october 21st | george weasley x fem!reader

contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, hand kink, fingering, dirty talk, multi orgasms.

word count: 1.1k

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

george's knuckles grazed your clit, and you gasped, your eyes locked onto his as he pushed two fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out with a slow, deliberate rhythm. your walls clenched around him, and he chuckled lowly at the way you responded to his touch, the way your body begged for more.

his thumb traced circles around your entrance as he pumped, the friction building into a crescendo of pleasure. your breaths grew shorter, your chest heaving with anticipation. george's hand looked so good, so right, doing this to you. the way his fingers curled, the way his palm pressed against you, it was like watching a master at work.

the sight of his hand disappearing into your wetness was almost too much to handle. your eyes remained glued to the visual feast, watching as he withdrew and plunged back in, a silent rhythm that spoke of his desire for you. your legs quivered, and you felt the familiar tightness coiling in your belly, signaling the approach of your climax.

his pace quickened, and with a whimper, you shattered around his fingers, your body convulsing with waves of ecstasy. the intensity washed over you, leaving you breathless and boneless, a trembling mess of pleasure beneath him.

seeing your reaction, george couldn't help but grin, his eyes alight with mischief. "i think i might have found a new way to drive you wild," he murmured, kissing along your jawline as he withdrew his hand, which was still glistening with your arousal. "you're so beautiful when you come like that, darling."

his hands began to wander again, exploring every inch of your body with a newfound enthusiasm. you watched, entranced, as his fingers danced over your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples before trailing down your stomach and back to the apex of your thighs. each touch sent a shiver through you, and you couldn't tear your gaze away from the sight of his long, lean digits as they played with your sensitive flesh.

his hands cupped your breasts, lifting and squeezing, and you arched into the touch, your eyes fluttering closed briefly before snapping open again to keep watching. the way his thumbs grazed your skin, the way his knuckles brushed against your inner thighs, it was like an electric current running through your veins, setting you alight with every movement.

"george," you breathed, your voice thick with need. "keep…keep doing that."

his grin grew wider as he complied, his thumbs continuing their merciless dance over your peaked nipples. "you like that, don't you?" he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. "you love my hands on you."

his palms slid down to your waist, his fingers digging in slightly as he pulled you closer to him. you could feel his hardness pressing against you, and the thought of him inside you made your pulse race even faster. his hands moved down to your hips, guiding them in a slow, tantalizing rhythm that had you grinding against his thigh.

"yes," you moaned, your voice a desperate whisper. "yes, i love your hands, george."

his eyes darkened with arousal at your words, and he began to move his hands more purposefully, his fingers tracing the curves of your body with a possessive touch that sent your senses reeling. his thumbs slid down to your clit again, flicking it back and forth as he held you in place with his strong grip on your hips. your breath hitched, and you squirmed under the onslaught of sensation, your body begging for more.

his hands were everywhere, it seemed. one moment, they were tangled in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck for his hungry kisses; the next, they were skimming down your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. the way his fingers danced over your skin was mesmerizing, a silent symphony of lust that had you writhing and gasping for air.

you couldn't get enough of his touch. it was like you'd been starving for it, craving the feeling of his calloused hands on your body, bringing you to the brink of pleasure and then pulling back just enough to keep you there, suspended in a state of delicious agony. his hands were a revelation, a new language that your body understood all too well.

his fingers found their way back to your clit, now swollen and sensitive from your recent orgasm. he applied just the right amount of pressure, rubbing in tight circles that had you lifting your hips off the bed, silently begging for more. you could feel another climax building, the tension in your body coiling tighter with every stroke.

his other hand moved to your inner thigh, his thumb ghosting along the slick folds of your sex. the combination of his rough thumb pad and the gentle caress of his knuckles against your skin was intoxicating, making you quiver and whine with pleasure. you reached down to grip his wrist, urging him to go faster, harder, needing to feel him push you over the edge again.

his eyes never left yours as he worked his magic, reading the desperation in your gaze like an open book. his fingers moved in time with your breaths, syncing to the rhythm of your need. every time you thought you couldn't possibly get any closer, he'd add a new twist, a different pressure point, taking you even higher.

you couldn't help but admire the way his hands looked, so strong and capable, yet gentle and tender when they touched you. the way his wrist bent, the muscles flexing as he manipulated your body into submission. it was as if those hands were made just for this, to bring you pleasure beyond measure.

his thumb pushed against your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to send you spiraling. your nails dug into the sheets as your hips rocked against his hand, the friction driving you wild. you felt yourself building towards that peak again, the one you'd just barely crested moments ago.

your eyes never left his, the connection between you palpable, a silent communication of desire and need. his eyes darkened, smoldering with passion as he watched the effect he had on you. his hand moved faster, his fingers plunging in and out of you with a fervor that matched the pounding of your heart.

your body responded to his every touch, your muscles clenching around his digits, begging for more. you felt the warmth building in your core, the tension coiling like a spring about to snap. "george," you panted, his name a plea on your lips. "I'm…I'm…going to…"

his hand didn't stop, didn't falter, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushed you closer to the precipice. "that's it, darling," he encouraged, his voice thick with need. "let go for me."

and with that final whisper of encouragement, you did. you shattered again, your body bowing under the weight of your climax. the room was a blur of sensation and color, the only clear point in your vision the sight of his hand, still working you, still bringing you pleasure beyond what you'd ever thought possible.

kintober taglist: @multi-fandom-imagine, @imamexican, @majaduzejaja, @moony-artemis, @emma-e-a, @agoodgirlsguidetomakingmencry @indigoangel77, @froyofreya, @weirdothatwritess @dale-kobbles-wife @aureli-us @mattheoriddles-slutt @aduh0308

[hazeyysworld]

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

character: george weasley x f! reader

genre: soft fluff

summary: staying with george after his “holy” wound

warnings: brief mentions of blood and his wound

words: 887

.・。.・゜✭・.

During the Hogwarts war, Mad-eye Moody had given Fred, George, Bill, Fleur, Hermione and Ron polyjuice potions to disguise themselves as Harry Potter.

George had gone with Lupin and soon was hit accidentally by Snape's sectumsempra spell which cut his ear off.

George had come back, weak, and was laying on the sofa bleeding thoroughly when you had noticed the commotion from the kitchen..

You let out a gasp, “George..” You say softly, rushing in from the kitchen. You had stayed at the Burrow with Molly.

George slowly moves his head to look up at you, offering you a smile albeit an incredibly weak one.

“Oh Georgie..” You whisper out quietly, nearly down at his side as Molly runs her fingers through his hair.

“How- how are you feeling?” You ask, resting your hand on his arm.

It takes him a moment to reply, “..Saint like..I’m holy Y/n..I’m holy..you get it?” He says, pointing at the hole where his ear was.

“You- you are pathetic George Weasley..” You softly say with a small smile, leaning your head onto the couch.

George chuckles softly, wincing as Molly carefully starts to clean his wound up. He looks at you gently, his chest still rising and falling irregularly.

”Yeah, I just wanted to make you smile is all.” He says, watching you lean your head on the couch by him.

You smile at his words, he always found a way to warm you up no matter the situation, “Get some rest George..” You whisper out, leaning up to place a kiss to his forehead as you watch his eyes slowly flutter shut, sleep overcoming him.

George slowly nods before falling asleep within minutes. As you continue to watch him, Molly pats your shoulder.

”He’ll be fine, dear. I’m surprised that boy is still so cheeky, given the circumstances.” She says, giving you a smile.

“Yeah..” You whisper out, finally moving from your position as you feel everyone else start to move and shift a bout.

Some hours pass, you sit leaning against the couch, watching George’s chest rise and fall as he sleeps.

George slowly stirs a few hours later, a small groan falling from his lips as he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees being your face.

”Hey..” He mutters tiredly, a groggy smile on his lips.

“Hi..” You say, a tired yet genuine smile on your face, reaching for his hand to lace your fingers together with his.

George smiles a little as you gently intertwine your fingers with his, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

”How long have I been out for?” He asks quietly, his eyes still on yours.

“Just a few hours..” You say, eyes wandering from his to the bandages wrapped around his head, “How are you feeling?”

He groans softly, slowly sitting up into a more upright position, pulling your hand gently into his lap and gently tracing his fingers along the back of it.

”I feel like I’ve been hit full force in the head with a bludger. Apart from that, I’m good.” He teases lightly.

“Right..of course..” You say with a giggle, looking up at him with a smile.

George gently grins at the sound of your laughter, his eyes fixated on your face as he continues tracing his fingers along the back of your hand in his lap.

”You look beautiful, love.” He says quietly, tilting his head to the side slightly to look at you properly.

“Thank you George..” You whisper out, “You look quite…holy..” You say with a grin.

George laughs out softly, rolling his eyes playfully at your comment before gently poking your side with his free hand.

”Oh shush, you know you’d prefer me with both of my ears.”

“Oh..I’m not too sure about that Georgie..” You say with a smile, “The one ear thing is really starting to grow on me..”

“Oh yeah, you find it attractive, do you?” He asks, grinning at you as he leans closer to you and lowers his voice. His grin only grows wider as he notices your cheeks beginning to turn a light pink.

“Oh definitely..” You say with a giggle, eyes twinkling as you look at him.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Harry sits awake nearby, thinking about how in his fourth year George was too scared to ask you to the Yule Ball, so you asked him yourself.

He remembers the moment exactly, the way George’s face turned as red as his hair as you leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek.

He remembers the way Dean, Lee, and others had teased and made fun of the Weasley twin.

He remembers in his first year when George was too afraid to even speak to you when you would approach them, he would stutter and look away awkwardly- not knowing how to speak to a girl, let alone his crush.

Harry remembers the first time he saw you two in Hogsmeade, your fingers laced with George’s, a huge smile on his face as he looked down at you.

In Harry’s eyes you two were to get married, to survive the war and spend the rest of your time together.

In George’s eyes, you were the witch he wanted to stay with for the rest of your lives.

.・。.・゜✭・.

notes: yay! first fic in the books, hoping to put more out soon- sorry if it wasn’t too good! please send in any requests!

[luv4freddie]

Polaroid Love - F.W

Fred goes to work with his father and comes home with a muggle Polaroid camera, deciding the best use of it would be to take horrendous pictures of his girlfriend.

Fred x fem!Muggleborn reader, established relationship, reader gets red, house and age not specific, tooth rotting fluff bc I love lovesick Fred, 1.2 k words

Being a muggleborn at the Weasley household was an experience, to say the least.

In the last week since you’ve been at the Burrow, you’ve explained what rubber ducks are for, how to operate a microwave, and Pythagorean theorem.

Today Aurthur took the boys to work with him, so you were currently helping Molly cook dinner.

You had yet to understand the witchy way of cooking, so you were stuck mixing a bowl by hand while Molly sent knives, pots, and pasta flying all across the room.

You ducked a flying cutting board right as the group of rowdy boys entered the front door, your boyfriends voice in particular carrying over the noise of clattering dish ware.

“Honey, we’re home.” Aurthur calls, and Molly meets them all at the door, asking you to ‘keep an eye on’ the multitude of activity in the kitchen.

You look around with wide eyes, imagining all the magical pots dropping to the floor and spoons stopping their stirring, Molly walking in and wondering how you were so incompetent that you would never be able to cook and therefore would be a horrible wife to her son.

You’re only snapped out of your reverie by a flash of light in your eyes, and you tumble back to your current environment— all the dishes are still floating, the spoons were still moving, and Fred was staring at you with a giant grin on his face.

“Hi Freddie!” You light up at the sight of your boyfriend, but don’t allow his attempt at hugging you, too focused on not disappointing your (hopefully) future mother-in-law.

“They’re not gonna stop working unless mom makes them, these things are always going.”

But you refuse to budge, and Molly walks in to see you holding your boyfriend away with one hand on his chest while you continue trying to stir with the other.

She lets out a laugh, telling Fred to leave you alone and go wash up before dinner.

“One kiss? Pleaseeee?” He gives you puppy eyes, and your face goes bright red.

“Not in front of your parents!” You hiss, but he steals a one anyway before running up the stairs and out of the way of the punch you tried to throw at him.

Molly pretends not to have seen, and you let your face cool down before asking what she wants you to do next.

Fifteen minutes later you’re sat at the large table, sandwiched between the twins while Ron talks to you from across the table.

“It was pretty fun, and we all got muggle souvenirs afterward, can you explain to me what this is?” He asks, holding up a PEZ dispenser with a cartoon character head on top.

You laugh, explaining how to get the candy out and watching as a few of the Weasley’s around the table stop to watch, Aurthur positively beaming at the discovery.

“Take a bite before dad can ask you something,” Fred whispers urgently in your ear, and you go to say something back but see Aurthur open his mouth on the other side of the table and you quickly scoop as much pasta into your mouth as you can fit.

You hear Fred laugh at you, and you turn to give him a glare; although it’s less scary due to the copious amounts of noodle hanging out of your mouth.

A flash once again momentarily blinds you, and you finally realize what it is when you see the small Polaroid camera in your boyfriend’s hand.

You go to yell at him, but still have pasta in your mouth so you settle for an angry groan and another smack to his arm.

You watch in horror as a piece of film comes out of the camera, which your boyfriend takes gingerly and looks at expectantly as it develops.

You finally manage to swallow your large bite, and you snatch the photo from his grasp, immediately being greeted by your own face, round with food in your cheeks and wide eyes while strands of pasta hang down your chin and sauce sits on the corners of your mouth.

“Freddie,” you groan in annoyance, but he just takes the photo back from your hands and looks at it proudly.

“It’s a lovely representation of you, darling.”

“It is not!!”

George is laughing too, and you turn back to your plate, trying not to think about the fact that your boyfriend now has two horrible pictures of you for keepsakes.

You try to help clean up after dinner, but Molly insists that someone else does it since you helped cook, so you head upstairs to your boyfriend’s room while Ron and Ginny grumble.

“Evening, love,” Fred greets as you enter the twins’ room.

“Y/n,” George greets as well, tipping his nonexistent hat to you before turning his back to you so he can start a letter to Angelina.

Your boyfriend uses the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, trapping you in his embrace and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I missed you today.” He mumbles into your hair.

“It wasn’t even a full day,” you laugh, the sound muffled by his chest.

He scoffs, sitting down on his bed and pulling you onto his lap.

“So what, I’m not allowed to miss my girl?”

You feel your cheeks warming at the claim of being his, and you give him a teasing smile, “well when you say it like that..”

Before you can even move there’s another flash and you immediately groan, burying your head into the crook of your boyfriend’s neck.

“I’m really starting to resent your dad for getting you that.”

You feel his shoulders shake with laughter, but all he says is “I think it’s my second favorite possession.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, pulling back so he can see it.

“Second favorite?”

“Yep. After these pictures.” He grins, now holding up all three photos he’s taken of you since being home.

“Why can’t you just take pictures like a normal person?” You ask, looking at the two new photos, the one from earlier of you with a wooden spoon in your hand and eyes looking around while bowls float around your head, and the newest one of you sat on Fred’s legs with pink cheeks and a grin on your face.

“Normal people don’t get to keep your happy face in their pockets though, now do they?”

You watch as he puts the photos back, and you melt at the thought of your boyfriend wanting to document your joy to keep as his own.

“I’m always wearing my happy face when I’m around you, Freddie.”

He grins (ignoring George’s gagging) and pulls you down onto his bed, smothering you in kisses until he can no longer keep himself up and your face is brighter than his hair.

“Guess I’ll have to get more film then.”

And he does.

In fact, by the time you get back to Hogwarts from the holidays he’s got a whole wall of polaroids .

You in his Christmas sweater with a proud smile on your face and an F across your chest, you being squeezed by his mother in the worlds tightest hug, you on a broom in his backyard and a quaffle in your arms, you asleep on his bed, even one of you puckering up as if to give the camera a kiss.

And no matter how many times he looks at them, Fred still stares at the photos with a lovesick smile on his face, absolutely in awe at the ability to capture pictures that are so you, so full of light and love that he feels like the luckiest man on Earth to get to be yours.

[weasleysbliss]

𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

pairing: george weasley x gryffindor!reader

summary: when y/n is asked to tutor george weasley, she expects nothing but chaos. but as their study sessions turn into moments of laughter and vulnerability, what starts as an obligation blossoms into an unexpected romance.

word count: 2.7k

➽────────────────❥

You were the top student in your Potions class—well, pretty much in all of your classes. With an average just shy of 100, you managed to outdo your friend and academic rival, Hermione Granger. Sometimes, you couldn't help but wonder how you weren't placed in Ravenclaw.

You were patiently waiting in Professor McGonagall's office, as she'd asked you to be there at 10 a.m. sharp. It was already 10:05, but you didn't mind. After all, she had hundreds—if not thousands—of students to deal with every day. You couldn't imagine being in her position; it must be incredibly stressful.

You saw Professor McGonagall quickly walk into the office. "Sorry, dear, I wasn’t expecting to be late. I had to deal with one of the twins again. Fred and those fireworks he won’t stop setting off... I can’t seem to catch a break," she said, clearly irritated. You chuckled.

Fred, along with his twin George, were infamous for their pranks—especially their fireworks. You weren’t particularly close with the twins, though you knew George from Potions class. You’d never really talked, but you’d heard plenty about their mischief. This definitely wasn’t the first time they’d caused trouble.

"No worries, Professor, I’m in no rush,” you reassured her. “Speaking of Fred, I actually called you in here to ask if you'd be willing to tutor his brother, George. His struggle is with Potions, and I know you’d be a great help, Miss L/N."

Her request caught you off guard for a moment. You had no problem tutoring anyone—especially since you were confident in all of your academic abilities. But George? Would you even withstand a single session without him pulling at least ten stunts on you? Despite not exactly wanting your "client" to be George, you couldn’t let Professor McGonagall down.

"Yes, of course, I'd be delighted to tutor him." Not that you were exactly thrilled. You didn’t have a problem with George, but you could already imagine the chaos his pranks would bring. If he pulled anything on you... well, you’d just have to pray you could withstand it.

Nonetheless, you had high hopes.

"Lovely! You both can start tomorrow at 6 p.m. in the library," she said. "I will let him know about the schedule. You'll be expected to tutor him three times a week. I have no doubt his grades will improve with your help." She gave you a warm smile, clearly pleased that you accepted her request.

You returned her smile and made your way out of her office. Now, all that was left was to wait for your first session tomorrow evening.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next day, 6 p.m. rolled around much faster than you anticipated. You spent most of the day going over your notes and brainstorming effective ways to tutor him.

You found a seat in the library, one that George would be able to see when he walked in. Shortly after you settled in, his tall, lean figure appeared in the doorway. Your eyes met for a moment, exchanging weak but genuine smiles, before he walked over and took a seat beside you.

"Glad you came, Weasley," you said, a hint of sarcasm in your voice, though it wasn't meant badly. "Not like I had much of a choice, y’know. McGonagall practically twisted my arm…" he laughed. "But I have to admit, I was pretty lucky to get you as my tutor. You’re brilliant, Miss L/N—though I probably shouldn’t inflate your ego too much." You chuckled at how formal he sounded when using your last name.

"Yes, well… I'll try my best to make this session quick and effective. I'm sure you have plenty of other things to do outside of this," you said, scrambling through your notes. "Don’t worry about it, I’ve got all the time in the world," he assured, smiling. His comment made your cheeks heat up, but you quickly brushed it off as you laid out the notes.

"Right, let's begin!" you cheerfully said.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Nearly 45 minutes into your session, everything was going smoothly. You’d covered most of the first topic you wanted to go over, and George seemed to be doing well with it so far. However, there was just a little bit left of the lesson to finish.

"Okay, and finally…" you began, but you were cut off when you noticed the cup of ink you had dipped your pen in was gone. "Oh… did I misplace it somewhere?" you said, your voice tinged with confusion.

"Have you seen the cup of ink, George?" you asked, still looking around in a frenzy. "No," he replied simply, his nasty and mischievous smirk making it clear he knew something you didn’t. "George, stop messing around. Give it to me," you said, trying to remain calm. You only had a couple more things to explain, and you were ready to be done. You weren’t having it with his pranks, though you knew they were coming.

The cup of ink came into clear view when George stood up, holding it high above his head. "Reach for it, if you dare," he laughed, knowing full well you wouldn’t be able to reach it. "George, cut it out!" you said, clearly annoyed. You didn’t even try to get it; it would be impossible unless he brought it down some inches shorter.

Seeing the irritation on your face, George finally lowered the cup, holding it out in front of you. Just as you reached for it, he quickly pulled his hand away, making your face burn with embarrassment. "George, stop! We’ve been here for an hour already, don’t you want to leave?" you said quietly, trying to keep your frustration in check.

"I dunno, there’s just something hilarious about you when you’re mad," he said, a grin slowly creeping onto his face. He finally placed the cup on the desk, your eyes following his hand. Now, you can get back to finishing the lesson.

Once the session came to an end, you both discussed when you'd meet again—two days from now. "Same time, same place. Don’t be late," you said, your tone firm. "Right atcha," he replied with a playful salute before spinning on his heel and heading out of the library.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next day wasn't one of your tutoring days, but you decided to sit next to George in Potions class. After all, you were tutoring him in the subject, and you figured it’d be a good chance to get to know him better outside of academics.

"Well, well, well," he sang as he saw you take a seat next to him. "Oh, shut up," you said, swatting his arm playfully.

For the entire period, you both got to know each other on a more personal level. Not too personal, but enough to now be considered 'acquaintances'.

George Weasley wasn’t as bad as you’d expected.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Next day, second tutoring session.

You and George met up at the same spot, same time. Library, at 6 p.m.

"Okay, now that you’ve learned what I taught you a few days ago, it’s time to apply it to an actual potion. This is when you’ll actually make one." you said, pointing to the empty glass tubes.

You handed him a piece of paper with a specific potion written on it—the one you’d ordered him to make. He took the paper and got to work. You watched his every move, from the way he added the ingredients to the tube, to the way his hands moved.

Something about his hands intrigued you. They were veiny, slim, and just perfect overall. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a loud explosion-like sound.

Your gaze immediately shifted to the glass tube, where black smoke was billowing out and clouding the air. He must’ve added the wrong ingredient.

"Guess I didn’t quite hit the mark with the studying, did I.." he muttered quietly. Yeah, clearly. The notes you’d given him to study had gone to waste—he’d messed up one of the easiest potions to make.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but despite the mistake, a laugh escaped you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Another two days later, another tutoring session awaited you.

This time, you really hoped George’s effort would get you somewhere, rather than wasting both of your time.

"Believe it or not, I actually did some studying this time. Turns out your notes are pretty brilliant—who would’ve thought?" he said as you both stepped into the library. "Wow, Weasley. I’m impressed, but let’s see if it paid off," you replied, smirking at his comment.

You handed him another potion to make, this one more difficult than the last. To your surprise, he actually perfected it. It warmed your heart knowing he’d put in such great effort.

"Told you," he said, showing off his creation like a nine-year-old flaunting a Lego set he’d built.

It was nice seeing him improve, finally succeeding in something he’d struggled with, all with your help.

"Nice one, Georgie!" you cheered, patting him on the shoulder. "Trust me, if you keep this up, you'll be in the high 80s."

"Yeah, I definitely need that. A 52 isn’t exactly something to brag about, is it?" He said, a bit embarrassed, but with a playful tone. He had clearly exposed his grade, a bit more than he intended.

Your hand was still on his shoulder, but neither of you seemed to mind. You didn’t think of letting go. "Don’t let yourself down. We all start somewhere. And you’re getting better—thanks to me," you said, flicking your hair away as you emphasized your contribution. He laughed at your sassy move, clearly amused by your confidence.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Another session went by, then another, and many more after that.

You were seeing George every day—whether it was sitting with him in Potions class, during your occasional tutoring sessions, or even grabbing coffee and lunch together now and then. Though those outings weren’t exactly romantic, they still felt special in their own way.

He'd made immense progress, and it was clear when he told you he was averaging an 85 in the class.

Just like that, in two months, he’d gone from a 52 to an 85. Needless to say, you were proud—of both yourself and George. You felt accomplished, knowing you’d successfully helped a student improve their grade, and proud of George for sticking with the sessions and putting in the effort.

Despite his rare pranks and annoying moments, he made the sessions much more fun than they should’ve been.

Rather than being professional and straightforward, the sessions almost always turned into the opposite—filled with laughter, inside jokes, casual flirting, and lessons that took far longer to finish because of it.

You didn’t realize it at first, but those two months spent together had made you develop feelings for him. Not a full-blown crush, but something close. You’d gotten to see the things that made him attractive, and more importantly, a good person.

His lean, masculine figure, his hands, and his noble, humble, and brave personality made you realize he wasn’t all chaos and jokes.

He was exactly your type—almost everything you'd wished for in a guy. His good looks weren’t something he flaunted; instead, he prioritized maintaining a reputation for being generous and courageous.

You admired that about him.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

On one particular tutoring session, which was close to being one of your last—since he was already excelling in the class—you both shared a moment you'd never forget.

After your usual laughs at one of his ridiculous jokes, he suddenly shifted the atmosphere, his tone turning serious.

"Y/N, you do realize this is one of our last sessions, yeah?" He asked.

"I know. I’m going to miss moments like these. But hey, it’s not like we won’t still have class together! And I see you every day, stop being dramatic," you replied, playfully shoving him, earning a chuckle in return.

"I know, but I feel like these sessions are what really built our friendship. Honestly, if McGonagall hadn’t set this up, I’m not sure where we’d be." He said.

What he said was completely true, and you’d even considered it yourself. Where would you guys have ended up, in terms of your relationship, if Professor McGonagall hadn’t played matchmaker? It was like a butterfly effect.

"Yeah, I don’t think either of us would’ve spoken to each other," you laughed. In your defense, you wouldn’t have talked to George back then. You’d thought very differently of him.

"You're right. I'm scared of pretty women," he said.

That one simple comment made a thousand, if not a billion, butterflies erupt in your stomach. He always knew exactly what to say to earn a blush from you.

You were too flustered to respond, so instead, you shot him a small, shy smile, afraid you’d say something you would regret.

"I’m glad she paired us together, though," he said, breaking the silence. "Well, I happen to like you—a lot, actually. And somehow, it all snuck up on me so fast." he confessed.

His words sent your heart racing, pounding faster than it ever should. This was one of the rare moments where both of you were completely vulnerable and serious with each other.

"I’m really glad you enjoyed my company, Georgie. Honestly, these sessions meant more to me than just schoolwork." You hesitated for a moment, a small smile on your face. "You make me feel so… at ease. Like I can just be myself. And, well, I didn’t expect to get so attached, but here I am."

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and his eyes widened slightly at your statement. For a moment, panic gripped you.

Oh gosh. What if he didn’t mean it like that? What if he only sees me as a friend? Did I just romantically confess to him? Am I dreaming? Get a grip, Y/N!

"You like me, L/N, don’t you?" he said, not even posing it as a question.

Your cheeks flushed instantly at the sound of your last name on his lips.

You couldn’t outright deny it—that would be a lie. But admitting it felt too direct, too vulnerable.

Standing against one of the library tables, you avoided his gaze, your lips sealed as you struggled to find the right words. Deep down, you knew the truth—you liked him.

He stood from his seat and stepped closer, closing the space between you. His finger lightly grazed your chin, gently tilting your face to meet his eyes.

"There’s only one answer," he murmured. "Let’s not lie now."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you fumbled for a response, finally managing a soft, unsure, "Maybe."

By now, your bodies were so close that his warmth seeped into you, making your breath hitch.

"I thought so," he said, his voice low and almost teasing, his gaze locking with yours.

Your eyes remained locked on his, staring into the rich, chocolatey depths of his gaze.

"Y’know, you’re not exactly subtle about how you feel, Y/N. But lucky for you, I’m happy to help," he said, his voice soft but confident.

Confusion flickered across your face for only a moment before it was replaced by the warmth of his lips pressing against yours. One hand found the small of your back, the other resting gently at your waist. The world seemed to stop as you froze in the moment, every part of you except your lips paralyzed by the intensity.

Your lips moved in sync with his, creating a rhythm that sent heat coursing through your body. Slowly, your hands unfroze, snaking their way around his neck and pulling him closer.

As if the ten seconds of kissing weren’t enough, George seemed in no rush to stop. His hands moved to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly and setting you on the table behind you.

Now, with nothing to steady but each other, you let yourself melt into him.

His hands slid from your thighs to your hips, his fingertips brushing the fabric of your skirt. Your own hands stayed around his neck, tugging him even closer until there was no space left between you.

The kiss was electric—otherworldly. It wasn’t just passion; it was connection. It felt like bliss, the kind of moment you never wanted to end.

This wasn’t your first kiss, but it was the first one that made you feel completely and utterly alive.

Unbeknownst to either of you, every tutoring session had been its own lesson—a lesson in love.

[mywhisperingwords]

tired eyes are the death of me | fred g. weasley

summary: a talk in the middle of the night leaves a bittersweet feeling in your heart word count: 1.8k masterlist

The kitchen was draped in shadows, and you didn’t notice him standing there at first.

His tall figure blended into the darkness, his face a silhouette against the faint moonlight filtering through the window. It wasn’t until he turned, his gaze locking with yours, that you stopped short.

“Couldn’t sleep?” you whispered, your voice soft so as not to shatter the stillness of the house.

Fred didn’t respond. Maybe he hadn’t heard you, or maybe he was choosing not to. Undeterred, you made your way to the cupboard. “Tea?” you offered, letting the word hang in the silence.

Still, nothing.

Turning, you caught sight of his faraway stare, fixed on something unseen beyond the windowpane. “Fred?” you called, louder this time.

It was unnerving, the silence in place of his usual banter, the laughter that seemed to follow him like an aura.

You stepped closer, hesitant but unable to leave him alone in whatever thoughts had stolen him away. Gently, you placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Have you ever thought about leaving it all behind?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, and the weight of the question stilled you.

Your hand hovered for a moment before you slowly pulled it back. “What do you mean?”

“Packing up. Just going. Somewhere far away.”

His words struck a chord deep within you, one you didn’t want to admit was there. The thought had crossed your mind before—how could it not? War was looming, and with it came the constant shadow of loss. But running had always felt selfish. Cowardly.

Fred’s voice broke through your thoughts. “We could die, you know.”

A shiver ran down your spine, but you met his words with quiet honesty. “It makes you think, doesn’t it?”

He nodded, his gaze still far away. “About everything.”

“All the regrets,” you murmured.

“I don’t believe in regrets,” he said firmly, finally turning to face you. “When I die, I won’t have any.”

You blinked, startled by his certainty. “I would.”

His brow furrowed, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. “What would you regret?”

You hesitated. There was so much you could say, so much you could leave unsaid. Instead, you gave him a fragment of the truth. “That I didn’t ask you to dance with me.”

The words seemed to surprise him, his eyes narrowing as he searched yours. You felt exposed, the memory of that night as vivid as if it had happened yesterday.

And just like that, you were back in the Great Hall, watching him twirl someone else under the enchanted ceiling.

The music was loud, but all you could hear was the hammering of your own heart. From your spot near the wall, you could see everything—the way he laughed as he spun her, the way his hand rested on her waist, his other hand clasped in hers.

Angelina.

They looked perfect together, didn’t they? You hated that thought almost as much as you hated how happy he seemed.

Jealousy clawed its way up your throat, a bitter taste you couldn’t swallow down. Your own date had left you long ago, likely tired of your distracted glances toward the middle of the room. You felt a twinge of guilt for them, but it was nothing compared to the ache in your chest as Fred and Angelina danced.

You didn’t think he’d noticed you at all that night. You weren’t sure which hurt more—the jealousy or the invisibility.

Finally, you’d had enough. You pushed off the wall, ready to leave the Hall and the sight of him behind.

“Leaving already?”

His voice stopped you cold.

You turned, surprised to see him standing there, his brow furrowed as he looked at you. He was still breathless from dancing, his hair slightly mussed, his tie loosened.

“I’m tired,” you said, your voice steadier than you expected. “You should go back. You seemed to be having fun.”

Something flickered in his eyes, something you couldn’t name. For a moment, you thought he might say something else, but then he only nodded.

“Good night, then,” he said.

And that was it.

You never told him how much that night had hurt, how much you wanted to be the one he twirled under the enchanted ceiling.

Back in the kitchen, the memory clung to you, heavy and suffocating.

Fred’s voice pulled you back to the present. “I would’ve, you know. If I had known.”

The words were quiet but certain, like he had thought them over a hundred times before saying them aloud.

Your heart clenched. “Would you?”

He nodded, his gaze holding yours now, unwavering.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between you—charged, heavy, and full of things neither of you had ever said.

Fred’s gaze lingered on you, his expression unreadable. The silence between you felt like a fragile thread, one tug away from breaking.

“Remember that night in the common room?” you asked, your voice softer now, as if the memory itself required a gentler touch.

He tilted his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “What about it?”

You hesitated, unsure if you wanted to revisit it, unsure if you could. “You told me you were leaving school.”

His smile faded as the weight of that night returned, and his eyes softened with understanding. “I remember.”

The memory was as vivid as the firelight that had danced across his face that night, casting flickering shadows on the walls of the empty common room.

You’d found him there, sitting on the worn couch closest to the fireplace, the warm glow illuminating his freckled skin. It was late, so late that the castle seemed to exhale in its slumber, every creak of the floorboards echoing in the stillness.

You paused in the doorway, watching him for a moment. He looked almost peaceful, his legs stretched out, hands folded in his lap, but there was a tension in his posture—a stillness that wasn’t quite natural.

“You’re up late,” you said as you approached, breaking the silence.

He glanced at you, his lips curving into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Could say the same for you.”

You sat down beside him, the cushion sinking under your weight. “What’s on your mind?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer. He stared into the flames, his gaze distant, his jaw tight. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

The words hit you like a physical blow. Your stomach twisted, and you gripped the edge of the couch to steady yourself. “Leaving?”

“George and I… we’re finally doing it,” he said, a spark of excitement flickering in his tone. “We’re leaving Hogwarts. Starting the shop. It’s real this time.”

You wanted to be happy for him. You wanted to match his enthusiasm, to tell him how proud you were. But all you could think about was the empty space he would leave behind.

“Just like that?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

“Just like that,” he confirmed.

You turned your gaze to the fire, unable to look at him. The heat of the flames wasn’t enough to chase away the cold knot forming in your chest.

“You’ll do great,” you said, forcing the words out past the lump in your throat.

He looked at you then, his eyes searching yours. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

He smiled again, softer this time. “Thanks.”

But the silence that followed was heavy, filled with the things neither of you said. Things like, Will you miss me? Things like, Don’t go.

You didn’t ask him to stay. You couldn’t. So instead, you sat there with him, staring into the fire, letting the unspoken words linger in the space between you.

“I hated you for it,” you confessed now, pulling Fred back into the present.

His brows knit together, and he opened his mouth to speak but stopped, his hand twitching at his side. “Hated me?” he asked, his voice soft, almost disbelieving.

“You left me behind,” you said, your words quiet but unyielding.

“I never meant to.”

“I know,” you whispered. “But you still did.”

The tension between you felt like a taut string, ready to snap, and you both seemed to sense it.

Then he took a step closer. “Can I have this dance?”

You blinked, startled by the sudden shift. “What?”

“This dance,” he repeated, holding out his hand to you. His tone was light, but his eyes held an intensity that rooted you to the spot.

“Why?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Because I should’ve asked you before,” he said simply.

Your heart stuttered, and for a moment, you didn’t move. But then, slowly, you placed your hand in his.

He pulled you close, his hand settling gently on your back. The kitchen was still, the only sound the faint rustle of your movements as he began to sway with you.

There was no music, but you didn’t need it. The rhythm of your heartbeats was enough.

The moonlight streaming through the window cast a soft glow around you both, and for a moment, the rest of the world disappeared.

As you swayed together, Fred leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Maybe we should do it,” he murmured.

“Do what?” you asked, your eyes closed, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Run away,” he said softly, the words so quiet you almost didn’t catch them.

You froze, pulling back slightly to look at him. His expression was earnest, his eyes searching yours for something—hope, maybe, or agreement.

“Fred…”

“I’m serious,” he said, holding your gaze. “Let’s leave. Just you and me. Forget the war, forget everything else. We could go somewhere far away, start over.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, at the desperation in his eyes. But you shook your head, your voice trembling as you said, “We can’t.”

“Why not?” he pressed, his grip on your hand tightening.

“Because we can’t just run away,” you said, your voice cracking. “Our families, our friends—they need us. We can’t leave them to fight alone.”

His shoulders slumped, and he looked down, his jaw clenching. “I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you said, your voice firm despite the tears threatening to spill.

Fred looked at you then, his eyes shining with an emotion you couldn’t name. Slowly, he pulled you close again, wrapping his arms around you.

“One day,” he whispered, his voice heavy with a promise. “One day, we’ll have this. A real chance. Just us.”

You closed your eyes, pressing your forehead against his, letting his words wrap around you like a blanket. “I believe you,” you whispered, though the truth was, you weren’t sure if you believed anything anymore.

But in that moment, with his arms around you and the world outside forgotten, you let yourself hope.

&

And years later, when you looked back on that night, you realized neither of you had needed to say it. You both knew.

[moontopuff]

Summary: twins hear some nasty rumours about you, and don't like people talk like that about their favourite Hufflepuff.

Other: hurt/angst? I mean, group of students are gossiping about your relationship with twins in a nasty way... its mostly about twins reactions and their wave of protectiveness towards you.

The corridors of Hogwarts bustled with the usual energy, as Fred and George Weasley strolled through the hall, joking about their next prank. Their conversation slowly faded as they neared a group of Hufflepuff girls chattering animatedly just ahead.

They weren’t ones to eavesdrop, not random students, because their topics were usually just too boring. Still, when your name slipped into the conversation, both twins fell silent, instinctively tuning in. It wasn’t like they could help it when it was you they were talking about.

"…Right! And Ernie asked me to the ball yesterday, so I’m going too!" a blonde girl said excitedly, her voice carrying through the hall.

"Good for you, girlie!" her friend, a brunette, chimed in, clapping her on the shoulder. But then her tone shifted, quieter now. "And on the topic… Do you know if anybody asked (Y/N) to the ball yet?"

Fred and George slowed their pace, glancing at each other with smirks. Did somebody ask their favorite Hufflepuff yet? You didn't tell them anything, and if they will know thanks to gossip... Well, they will use it to tease you, for sure. That's why they stopped their walk, pretending to be interested in something else, while listening to conversation.

"I talked with that girl who is close to her, and I know that nope! And isn’t it kinda sad that nobody’s asked her to the ball yet?" another girl snickered.

"Yeah," the blonde one agreed, her voice softer but tinged with clear jealousy. "Especially since she’s always seen with the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan. I figured she’d be the first to have a date. She's close with them, after all."

"Exactly," the brunette chimed in, her eyes wide with faux innocence. "I mean, if she’s so close to the twins, how come neither of them wants to take her? I heard some Ravenclaw's talking that it's probably she’s… you know… giving it up to both of them, but they still don't want her, and thus she still can’t even get a proper date."

Weasley twins blinked in unison, too surprised to do more than that. That's... not what they were expecting to hear.

Fred woke up first and felt a wave of disgust wash over him, his hands balling into fists. George’s jaw clenched beside him, the tension building between them as they forced themselves to stay silent and listen.

"Yeah, like, that’s just pathetic," the blonde said, her voice turning mocking. "She’s hanging around them all the time, probably hooking up with both of them, and yet here she is, still dateless. That’s… well, kind of sad, don’t you think?"

A chorus of giggles followed, the sound hitting Fred and George like a slap in the face. The idea that anyone could think that they are spending time with you only for your body... That you were only their plaything, while that couldn't be more far from the truth. The fact that people believed it was happening and were laughing at you for it—made their blood boil.

"She’s probably desperate," one of the girls added, her tone casual but venomous, and that was the last thing twins' heard as the girls started walking away and their giggles finally faded into the distance. With that, the twins also resumed walking, not a world exchange between them, just cold silence. Neither of them spoke for a few moments, their minds racing with anger and guilt. You were their friend—someone they cared about deeply, and hearing people spread lies and cruel rumors about you left a bitter taste in their mouths.

"You think she’s heard any of this?" George asked quietly, his voice tinged with concern.

Fred’s frown deepened. "If she has, she hasn’t said a word. But Merlin, if she knew what they were saying…"

They both knew how kind and loyal you were—always trying to avoid conflict, always looking out for others. You weren’t the type to confront people, not unless it was absolutely necessary. You’d rather keep your head down, maybe even shrug off the rumors with a weak smile, even if they were cutting you deep inside. The thought of you, bashful and kind as always, hearing something like this made Fred’s stomach twist in knots.

"She doesn’t deserve this," George muttered, shaking his head.

Fred’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of determination sparking behind them. "We’ve got to do something. She shouldn’t have to deal with this rubbish."

George smirked slightly, though there was no humor in it. "Something big. Make sure everyone knows the truth without making her feel embarrassed about it."

Fred nodded, already hatching a plan in his mind. "Subtle enough that she won’t notice what we’re up to. But obvious enough that no one will ever believe those lies again."

They continued down the hall, their thoughts already racing ahead to what needed to be done. This wasn’t just about protecting you from gossip—this was about reminding everyone that you were worth far more than the cruel words of a few petty girls. That you were more than your body. You were loyal, hardworking, and kind, and anyone who thought less of you clearly didn’t know you at all.

"By the time we’re done," Fred said, a glint of mischief finally returning to his eyes, "she’ll have half of Hogwarts wishing they were her date to the ball."

George grinned, feeling the tension between them ease as they began to plot. "And we’ll make sure everyone knows she’s not someone to mess with."

Silently, they decided that you now, along with Ginny, are under his protection: who will do wrong to you, will do wrong to them, and thus, punishment will be given. They knew you could handle yourself, but why let you do that, when they could do it themselves, and spare you dealing with rubbish people? The twins walked off with renewed purpose, ready to set their plans in motion.

[im-trying-my-best-yall]

George Weasley is a switch and i will take no arguments

yes he will talk you through it and kiss over every inch of you and be such teasing little shit about it

yes he also melts to the floor the moment you kiss on his neck and tell him how pretty he is and wants you to ride him into the fucking sunset

im right and i take no criticism

[lordprettyflackotara]

sandman || fred weasley

smut 18+, minors dni

You lacked the capability to relax.

Being in Ravenclaw the expectations of the world were on your shoulders, not including the dementors that circled Hogwarts walls that made your skin crawl.

You had been up late studying with Hermione in the Gryffindor common room, who had already been dragged to bed by Ginny.

Clutching your quill you continued to scribble on the parchment paper, your temple beginning to throb.

“How did a Raven manage to fly into the lions den this late at night?” Fred Weasley’s recognizable voice asked you. You poked your head up from your Herbology textbook, Fred’s curious eyes watching you.

“I was studying with Hermione, she ditched me early. So much for an all nighter,” You explained, marking your page. You resisted the urge to fold the corners, placing your quill in between the pages about gillweed.

“Granger going to bed early to avoid studying? How out of character. Did you give her some of our drowsy draught potion?” Fred teased. You giggled, watching the lean quidditch player approach you. A white wife beater revealed how much muscle he truly had, his usual robes keeping them concealed.

He strode over to you confidently, taking a seat on the floor beside you. The fireplace cackled behind you, the warmth of the fire drawing Fred closer. “It’s almost three am, do you plan on sleeping?” Fred asked curiously. You knew as well as he did that he was notorious for sleeping through anything. Including the dreadful hail storm that once terrorized Hogwarts.

“I’m basically an insomniac at this point, I can’t relax for more than five seconds without racking my brain to solve an equation,” You admitted sheepishly. You nervously tucked your hair behind your ear as Fred leaned back on his hands. “Here turn your back towards me, I have some legit magic that’ll help you relax,” Fred told you. You hesitantly raised your eyebrow. The ginger tended to be a mischievous prankster, even if you weren’t a victim of his tricks.

“And you’re not going to prank me?”

“Pfft, of course not,”

“Promise Weasley?”

“I promise,”

You shifted around, your back now turned to Fred as you pulled your skirt down. You weren’t sure what to expect, acutely aware of how close you both were. Fred brushed your hair away from your back and over your shoulder, before beginning to massage your shoulders. “I thought you said this was magic,” You say timidly, his large hands massaging your skin with ease. Fred chuckled at your response, brushing some of his shaggy hair out of his face.

Merlin he needed a haircut.

“Yes this is the magic of relaxation,”

Your tense body began to slowly relax under Fred’s touch, the gingers eyes scanning your neck.

“Looks like you’re good at something other than pranks Weasley,” You say teasingly. Fred rolled his eyes. “I’m good at quidditch too ya know,” He countered. Fred could feel himself growing flustered as he continued massaging you, his eyes wondering down your figure.

“Your neck looks pretty tense, I can fix that for you if you want. I’ll just need you to turn around,” Fred offered, trying to appear cool and confident. You felt your face flush pink as you shifted around, facing him. You had never gotten a chance to interact with Fred one on one, George always connected to his hip.

The moment seemed oddly intimate, even though you had never considered relationships or sex worth your time. Yet the ginger sat in front of you with his large hands and soft lips, practically begging for you to kiss him. You had never considered yourself to be attracted to Fred Weasley, yet your body was yearning for more of his touch.

Fred couldn’t contain himself anymore, closing the gap between your lips and his. He tasted faintly of butterbeer, your eyes fluttering shut as your lips danced against his. Your arms found themselves around his neck, Fred’s hands slithering down to your waist. In a swift motion he had pulled you onto his lap, straddling him in front of the fire. Your fingers found his hair, small groans being swallowed by him as your hips bucked against his.

You could feel a wet patch growing in your panties, the soaked fabric rubbing right against Fred’s growing boner. His large hands slipped up your skirt, grabbing your ass. Your hips grinded against his, lust boiling in your stomach. “I wanna taste you,” Fred muttered against your lips, his words a confession. You felt heat rush to your cheeks as you briefly pulled away, Fred’s lips almost chasing yours.

“W-what Weasley?”

Fred brought his thumb to your lower lip, dragging it downwards.

“I want your lips wrapped around my cock as I make you cum on my face,”

His filthy words sent a shiver of arousal down your spine, right down to your cunt.

You went to unzip your skirt before Fred grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Keep it on,” He whispered, his order teetering on the line of a plea. You swallowed as the ginger laid down in front of you, eagerly awaiting you. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” You admitted, causing the ginger to chuckle. You stood up, pushing your panties down to your ankles before stepping out of them.

“I’d be a lucky man if I were to die between your thighs. C’mere,” Fred told you. You kneeled down over his head, your cunt inches away from his face.

“Fred what if I crush-”

Your concern was silenced by Fred’s hands pushing you down onto his face. You whimpered as his warm tongue licked a stripe up your cunt before assaulting your clit. You felt your thighs tighten around his head as his hands kept you in place, your filthy noises becoming louder by the minute.

“Fuck, right fucking there,” You moaned, grinding your hips onto his mouth. His lips began to suck at your clit, causing your thighs to shake. Your eyes centered on Fred’s boner, his cock throbbing inside of his pajama pants. You leaned forward, hungrily shoving them down. The lack of boxers caused you to giggle as his cock landed on his stomach.

“No underwear huh? Naughty boy,” You teased. A sharp smack landed on your bare ass, causing you to winch in pain for a brief moment before Fred’s tongue brought you back to ecstasy.

The ginger was longer than you expected him to be. You took his shaft into your hands, bringing it into your mouth. A soft groan was muffled by your folds, encouraging you to sink your head further down onto his cock. You took as much of him as you could in your mouth, using your hand to jerk the rest of his cock.

Fred admired your determination and for a brief moment he considered switching positions, the thought of you on your knees for him mouth watering. Yet, there was something about having your pretty lips wrapped around his cock as he was buried into your pussy that pleased him more.

You tasted divine, much sweeter than any other girl he had fooled around with. He licked up your cunt, pushing his tongue inside of your hole. You were involuntarily animalistic, your hips having a mind of their own as Fred laid there in heaven.

Fred’s hips were beginning to do the same, bucking upwards. His cock hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag as saliva trailed down your chin. Fred momentarily pulled away from your dripping cunt, smirking as your juices coated his lips and chin. You took him out of your mouth, gasping for air.

“You sound so pretty when you gag on my cock. Do it again and i’ll make you cum,” Fred ordered. You tried to grind down onto Fred’s face but his strong hands kept you in place. You could feel his warm breath a mere inch away from your cunt, taunting you.

The idea of cumming on Fred Weasley’s face had never been more appealing to you.

Desperately you brought his cock back to your lips, shoving it down your throat. You forced yourself to keep his shaft in place as you gagged around him. Saliva was trailing down your chin and neck, beginning to dampen your blouse.

“Such a good listener aren’t we? What a good girl,” Fred praised, kitten licking your folds. You pulled back, inhaling deep breaths of air.

“Now be a good girl and ride my face until you make yourself cum,”

You leaned back hesitantly, gripping his chest for support as he placed his mouth back onto your cunt. It was as if he somehow had memorized your body, his tongue licking every right place. Your moans were sinful enough to wake up the entire Gryffindor house and it was a miracle no one had bothered to go into the common room.

“Freddie, I, fuck-” You groaned, a familiar knot in your stomach forming. His lips had wrapped themselves around your clit, sucking harshly at the sensitive bud as your thighs trembled around his head. His large hands kept you on his face, refusing to let you move away.

You could feel your cunt clench around nothing as your thighs began to shake, squeezing Fred’s head unintentionally. Unholy moans that were mantras of his name echoed off of the common room walls as you came. Euphoria had washed over you, your nails digging into Fred’s chest.

Fred licked and sucked at your clit until you slowly lifted off of him, your knees almost buckling as you shifted away from his face. You weakly sat beside him, your after orgasm glow apparent to the ginger in front of you. “Look at you, you’re so cute,” Fred teased, using his thumb to wipe away the remaining spit on your chin.

In a swift motion you brought your lips back to his, Fred rising to his knees. You could taste your juices on his lips as you roughly meshed your lips against his. Fred couldn’t take it anymore, pulling away to meet your gaze. He shrugged his wife beater over his head, discarding it without a second thought.

“Bend over for me, yeah?”

You turned around, bending over in front of him without a second thought. You could feel him lubricate the tip of his cock by running it up and down your folds. The sensation of it hitting your abused clit made you shiver. “You have no idea how long i’ve thought about doing this,” Fred confessed. A cool breeze hit your bare skin as Fred lifted up your skirt, exposing your ass in full to him. As he pushed inside of you his fingers gripped your waist forcefully, as if he were afraid you’d disappear.

“So full- shit,” You groaned, your eyes screwing shut as he bottomed out.

“You’re practically fucking milking my cock, merlin, you slut,” Fred groaned. Your cunt only clenched around him tighter at the sound of his degrading words, causing him to smirk.

He began picking up the pace, fucking into you slowly. Your noises only grew louder as his hips began to snap into yours faster. Fred’s thrust were merciless, his body chasing an ecstasy only you could provide.

Strings of curses mixed in with your name left Fred’s lips as he watched his cock go in and out of you. He was so deep inside of you that you almost thought you were seeing stars, your body drunk off of the feeling of his cock.

“You feel so good Freddie, so fucking- good,” You slurred, your words of encouragement only making Fred pound into you faster. His cock was abusing your g spot, causing your legs to shake as your knees dug into the carpet below you. You could feel the rug digging into your skin, making it raw which each thrust.

“I wanna fuck you everyday, make you my personal Raven,” Fred grunted. He could feel you getting closer to your final high, his hand slithering down to your swollen clit. You began to squirm as his fingers circled around your sensitive bud, unable to handle the fast circles he was drawing. “Oh- i’m gonna cum, I can’t, fuck!” You cried, your walls spasming as Fred ripped you into a state of euphoria.

Fred fucked you through your orgasm mercilessly, ravishing in the sight of you in a state of pure bliss. He was so focused on you that by the time he tried to pull out his cock it was too late, his cum painting the inner walls of your cunt. Your body was spent, slumping over onto the floor as Fred pulled out of you.

Two orgasms was all it took to get you to finally go to sleep. Fred smirked to himself as he shoved his pajama pants back on, your small sleeping body curled up into a ball in front of the fire. He grabbed your things, shoving them into a bag he knew he’d deliver to you in the afternoon when you ran into each other in defense against the dark arts.

He eyed your panties on the floor, contemplating putting them back on you. Instead a more mischievous thought came to mind, which caused him to decide to shove them in his pocket instead. He picked up your body up bridal style, carrying you upstairs to the girls dorm. Fred knocked on the door, hoping whichever gryffindor girl opened it wouldn’t be a first year.

A sleepy Hermione Granger opened the door, rubbing her eyes as her vision settled. “Y/n is still here?” She asked. Her mind was already scrambling itself on what to do, the responsibility of being a prefect weighing on her shoulders. “Yeah she finally just went to sleep, I don’t think I can deliver her to Ravenclaw tower at this hour,” Fred shrugged. Hermione stared at Fred, shirtless and hair messy. He looked like a wreck, and you didn’t look much better.

Questions were on the tip of her tongue, ones she decided could wait until the morning. Hermione knew there were a few extra beds that were designated for first years, but in emergencies they would have to do. “The spare beds are to the right, be very quiet and don’t pull anything stupid,” Hermione said sternly. Fred carried you inside of the room, ignoring the dozens upon dozens of sleeping gryffindor girls. Hermione trailed close behind him, ensuring he wasn’t up to any funny business.

“How’d you get her to go to sleep anyways? Shes practically an insomniac,”

Fred shrugged, laying you down and bringing the red colored comforter up to your shoulders.

“I’m not sure myself, guess you can call me the sandman,”

[kmt123whatsthetea]

The art of having kids

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

Requested by: @jelloangela

Request gist: “Overstimulation and breeding with the Weasley twins”

A/N: Thanks for the request! When it comes to the twins, magic must be real cause I'm under some sort of horny spell lol. I don't know why this one took me so long, writer's block has me in a choke hold.

T/W: Breeding, Overstimulation, Praise, sweet nicknames (I went for one's different than usual), a teeny bit of nipple play (thought I’d add a warning anyway), no aftercare

The day had been such a drag at the joke shop. Normal customers looking at the same old stock. The twins had been at the till all day just people watching. At around 4pm, a couple came in with a small boy. The boy looked so excited by all the colours and noises that the shop provided. He was giggling and touching everything in his reach. His parents trailed behind him, putting everything back in its designated place.

Normally, customers touching things and putting them down would be one of the worst things a retail worker could come across, but this kid was so adorable. After the small family had left, the twins turned to each other. The shared look only meant one thing, you were in for a rough night.

____________________________________________

You had been upstairs in the flat above the shop preparing dinner for when the twins locked up. At first when you hear them running up the stairs, you thought something bad was happening, like a fire or a howler from Mrs Weasley.

The twins practically burst through the door and pulled you out of the kitchen, directing you towards the bedroom before you could even ask questions. Fred was in front of you pulling you by yours hands while George was behind you pushing you with eager hands on your waist. They often got like this, where they’d just ambush you and start tugging at whatever you were wearing.

Fred sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you to stand between his legs while George trapped you there with his slim body. Fred tugged your jeans down along with your underwear, George pulled your blouse up. Both twins worked towards the same thing, getting you as bare as possible, as quick as possible.

When they achieved their goal of getting you naked, they both watched you the same way a hungry owl would watch a lost baby bunny, just waiting to strike with sharp talons. Fred stood up, pushing you onto the bed in his place. The boys stripped off their suits until they both stood before you in their underwear.

“Isn’t our girl so pretty and perfect, Georgie? She’s gonna make an amazing mother”

Fred’s words caught you off guard a little, but didn't put you off. George sat next to you and tutted at his brother.

“Freddie, you’re gonna scare our pretty girl away. How does it sound, angel? Being a pretty mummy for our babies? We’ll keep you so full of our cum until it takes, until you become so round and swollen. Just think of how perfect you’d look with a swollen tummy all because of us”.

George always had a way of talking you into kinky situations. Fred has always been the one to jump at the chance to try a new kink, whereas George would sit you down and discuss it first. He’d give you those puppy dog eyes that only he could and you’d be nodding, eager to try it. And nothing changed this time around.

You nodded, giving the boys the green light to do whatever they pleased. George's lips connected with your neck while Fred snaked his hands to your thighs, pulling your legs around his hips. Fred moved his tip up and down your slit, bumping it against your clit in an effort to get you wetter. George left marks along the skin of your neck while his hand made its way to rub over your nipples, which were slowly hardening beneath his rough fingers.

When Fred felt you were wet enough, he pushed in. Even when he was balls deep, he didn't stop to let you adjust. Fred had always claimed that you never needed to adjust, because they fucked you on a daily basis.

His thrusts were slow but deep, wanting to keep as much on his cock buried inside of you as he could. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. George's lips moved along your neck and up to your ear.

“Does he feel good, baby? You like having him deep in that little pussy? I bet you do. We’re gonna take care of you. Can’t have the mother of our children lifting a finger, now can we?”

The thought of the twins getting you pregnant caused a moan to slip past your lips. Both boys knew that they had won you over. They'd keep you bed bound until there was a positive pregnancy test if they had to. Fred’s thrusts slowly got quicker, while his hand moved to rub at your clit. He always did that when he got the chance to fuck you, loving the way your walls squeezed around him.

Fred’s eyes locked onto yours, his breath coming out in groans.

“You wanna cum, pretty baby? Get my cock all nice and wet and I’ll fuck a baby into you”

His fingers got quicker circling your clit, and then it hit you. Your walls squeezed Freds cock as you came. George kept his hand busy with your tits while whispering sweet words in your ear. But Fred didn’t slow down. His thrusts stayed the same rhythm, which eventually led to your moans turning to whines and your legs trying to close around his waist to stop the onslaught of pleasure. Fred held your thighs apart, while George directed your attention onto him with his voice.

“Sweet girl, if you want Freddie to fill you up, you need to stay still. Don't want him to pull out, do you?”

Although the pain was intertwined with the pleasure, you still shook your head at the very thought of him pulling out. Fred kept going, slowly bringing you to the brink again. All it took was another orgasm from you to make his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock pulse. With a low groan, he buried himself deep within your pussy, making sure every last drop of his cum would stay inside of you where it belonged. After catching his breath, he turned to George.

“Get up here, it’s gonna all leak out when I pull out”

George got up from his place next to you to stand beside his brother. As soon as Fred pulled out, George pushed in. Fred sat next to you, trying to gently shush the whimper that threatened to escape your lips. George slowly built up to a quick pace, his eyebrows furrowing at Fred who was rubbing your clit.

“Fred, she can't handle more. I bet in this state, she couldn't even tell us apart”.

George was always the caregiver. While Fred insisted that you could take more, always drawing another orgasm from you, George was the one who would be reluctant to push you. It wasn't that he didn't like seeing you in such a blissed out state or didn't think you could handle an orgasm or two, he didn’t like those little pouts and whimpers when the pleasure morphed with pain.

“Oh come on Georgie, our girl can handle it. She’s not made of glass, she can take it. Can’t you, sweets?”

Even after a couple of orgasms, you weren’t completely in subspace. You nodded at George, hoping to ease his worries.

“Please Georgie, I can take it. I want you to fill me up. Please Georgie?”

How could George ever say no to you?

His thrusts got rougher, desperate to give you what you asked. That building pleasure was quick to release, giving you your third orgasm of the night. George kept thrusting, although somewhat reluctantly. When he felt his own orgasm approaching, his thrusts got more manic. Soon, his cum spurted inside of you, mixing with both your own juices and Fred cum. George slowly pulled out, while Fred picked your underwear up and slipped in back up your legs. He was determined to keep it all inside you.

Even if it didn't take the first time, you could always try again the next night.

[sunburnhurts]

Artist || Fred Weasley x fem!Reader

Summary: Fred finds himself in the same classroom as Y/n, they soon bond over Y/n's art piece.

Words: 2,259

All My Stories

Sitting on a stool, Y/n leans in to get a better view of her canvas. Something about it looks wrong to her, she couldn't tell what. She attempted to paint the view from where she was sitting. She looked out the window at what she was trying to recreate, then back at her canvas. Sighing, she leans back rubbing her eyes in frustration.

She then hears the door to the empty classroom she was in open. Turning her head to the noise, she sees a tall red head shut the doors quickly behind him. Unsure what the sudden commotion is, Y/n stayed in her seat which was located in the far corner of the classroom. She quickly identified the boy as one of the Weasley twins, she just couldn't tell which one from where she was sitting.

She watches as the boy looks around the classroom, his eyes landing on her. He was a bit out of breath from running, he stood with his back to the door as he caught his breath. After a few moments of them staring at each other, Y/n looks away, back out the window.

Letting his curiousness control him, he walks over to the girl, taking a peek at her art. Y/n looks back at the twin, now close enough to identify that it is Fred. "This is bloody brilliant!" He says, leaning into the painting with his hands behind his back.

"Thank you," Y/n says a bit shyly. Y/n never talked to either of the twins before even though they are all in the same year, they are also all Gryffindors. She wasn't like them, energetic and friendly with everyone she met. Yes, she was nice to everyone she met, but it takes more time for her to be able to befriend the person.

If anything, she hated people that would befriend anyone and anything, she found the behavior fake. She needed a reason to be friends with someone, needed a special connection. She felt as if a friendship wasn't special if you act the same with everyone else. So at first, she was a bit hesitant to befriend a Weasley. Sure, she found him a bit cute, but that didn't mean anything if they didn't know each other.

Y/n watches as Fred looks at her, saying, "What are you painting?" She leans away from the window so he can see the view. He looks out, his eyebrows raised in surprise to how similar the view and the painting are. "That's seriously incredible, I didn't know you painted!"

"You don't know a lot of things about me," Y/n slightly jokes, but she really did know he knew nothing about her.

"That's not true, I know you're really quiet and smart." Fred says, looking down at the seated girl.

"And how do you know that?" Y/n looks up, slightly smiling.

Fred smiles, going back to observing the painting. "We are in a lot of the same classes, didn't think I noticed you?" He asks.

"Honestly, no." Y/n laughs, wondering why he would have noticed her when he spends all class joking around with other people.

"Well I have, for a while actually." He says, turning back to the girl. Suddenly, hurried footsteps are heard outside the classroom door. Fred hears this and hides next to a bookshelf that is blocking him from the view of the door.

Y/n looks over, seeing a Professor Snape burst into the room. He looks around the room, then spots Y/n. "Ms. Y/l/n, have you seen George or Fred Weasley?" He says in his low voice. It was obvious Fred has done something wrong, and obviously to the wrong person. The last person you should mess with is Snape, the consequences would be essay after essay.

"No, Professor Snape." Y/n responds, saving Fred.

"Very well," Snape responds, his eyes flickering from the painting back to her, nodding and exiting the room. Y/n looks over at Fred once Snape fully closed the door.

"Thanks for saving me, Y/n." Fred says, stepping away from the bookshelf, walking back to Y/n.

"So what did you do for Snape to be looking for you?" Y/n asks.

"Me and Geroge pulled a prank, we switched some of the potions around. We wanted one of our classmates to be the ones with the switched potions, but of course Snape had to use them." Y/n smiles, trying to imagine what kind of explosion happened to Snape.

"You can't hide forever, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Fred laughs. Y/n laughs back, then turns her attention back to her painting, still trying to figure out what was wrong with it. "You're not finished?"

"No, I can't figure out what's wrong with it, it looks empty." Fred looks at her confused, genuinely thinking the painting is perfect.

"Maybe it needs people?" Fred suggests.

"You're right!" Y/n exclaims. "I don't know why I didn't think of that!" Fred smiles, crossing his arms as he watches the girl in front of him turn to look at him. He raises his eyebrows, interested in what shes going to say. "Want to add someone?"

Surprised, Fred shakes his head. "No, I wouldn't want to ruin it."

Y/n laughs, getting up from the stool. "No, please, if its really bad I can paint over it." Fred gives in, sitting down and picking up the paint brush. Y/n stands behind him, watching as he nervously picked up orange paint with the brush. "Never would I thought Fred Weasley would be nervous to paint something." She laughs.

Huffing a laugh, he says, "I don't want to mess it up too bad!" Y/n laughs again, placing her hand on his shoulder for comfort.

"Don't worry! Seriously!" Fred slightly smiles as he feels her hand on him. She watches as he paints himself under one of the trees, it honestly looked like a crazy 5 year old painted it. But she didn't mind, she thought it looked special, no other professional painting has a messy painting of Fred in it.

"Done." He says, turning his head up to Y/n. Y/n looks down from the painting, meeting his eyes. Laughing as he smiles, he says, "What? Scared I'm going to steal your talent, Y/n?"

"Terrified!" Y/n chuckles, looking back at the painting. "You should paint me now," She suggests, not really wanting the moment to end. Fred nods, not wanting the moment to end either, the feeling of her hand still on his shoulder felt special. He then turns back and starts painting Y/n.

He starts drawing the body, making her the same size as him. "So I'm the same height as you?" Y/n teases.

"I never said I was good with proportions." Fred smiles. Once he finished he said, "What a beautiful girl!"

"I can't tell if that even is a girl!" Y/n laughs, making Fred look up at her with a playful frown.

"Sorry I'm not as talented at art as you are!" He exclaims.

"You'll get there," Y/n pats his shoulder, then removed her hand from him.

Hiding his disappointment of her removing her hand, he asks, "Do you have other paintings you've done?" Y/n nods, walking over to a wardrobe in the room. As she opens it, many finished art works, unfinished paintings, and empty canvases were revealed. "Wow, and they let you keep everything in here?" Fred asks as he picks up one of the paintings.

"Yeah, one of the Professors let me use this classroom. Said to just be prepared to pack up in case the room was needed."

Fred nods, observing the art works. He then stopped, turning to her with a serious face. "You really are talented, Y/n."

Y/n studies his face, seeing he really means what he says. "Thank you, Fred." She smiles. Yeah, she's used to a few people telling her she is good at art, but it was different coming from Fred.

Suddenly, Fred's eyes widen. "Shit," He mutters, "I have to get to Quidditch practice!" He places the art back where he picked them up from. "So you're in this classroom everyday after classes?" He asks, walking towards the door.

"Yeah," Y/n calls out.

Fred turns around before he exits the room, he nods and makes a mental note so he can find you after school. "Goodbye, Y/n."

"Goodbye, Fred." She smiles, watching him leave.

~~~~

The next day, Y/n and Fred weren't able to talk in classes, there was never an opportunity to. So Y/n is sitting in the same empty classroom, sitting in the same stool, staring at an empty canvas. She tapped her fingers against her forehead as she tried thinking of what to draw.

She then turns her head as she hears the doors open, the same tall twin walked into the room with a smile on his face. "How did I know I would find you here?" He asks, walking over to Y/n.

"I wonder," She jokes.

"So, what will be the next art piece?" He asks, stopping next to her.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." She sighs, looking back at the canvas.

"How about this," He starts, "You paint me and I'll paint you. I'll actually try this time, I promise."

Looking back up at him, she smiles. "Okay." She gets up, grabbing another canvas for him. They get situated, both facing each other and unable to see each others work.

As they worked, they got to know each other more. Fred did most of the talking, but she didn't mind, she liked listening to him ramble about little things. She got to know what he was planning on doing outside of Hogwarts, start a joke shop with his brother.

"I better get a discount in this store." Y/n jokes, adding details to the painting.

"Bold of you to assume you are allowed to even enter my store!" Fred says, looking up at the girl to see how her hair lays.

"Excuse me!" Y/n exclaims, looking up at him with her mouth opened in a dramatic way.

"I'm only kidding!" He says, looking back down and adding strokes of hair to the art. "You're allowed in there at least once,"

Y/n scoffs, playfully rolling her eyes at him. She enjoyed the playful banter, it was more fun with Fred than most of the people at Hogwarts. "Are you almost done?" She asks, finishing the painting.

"Hmm," He says, looking back up at her, staring for a bit too long, then looking down. Y/n noticed the lingering look, hiding her smile as she catches him slightly blushing. "Uh- yeah I'm done." She fully smiles, laughing lightly. "What?" Fred asks, looking up at her.

"Nothing." Y/n says, ready to show him the painting. "Let me see yours first.

Fred nods, pausing dramatically. He then quickly turns it around, revealing an okay painting of her. It was much better then the previous day, more detailed. "Wow, she's pretty," She jokes, reaching out for the painting.

"I know." He mutters, watching as she studies his work. He smiles seeing her grin. She then places the painting down, picking up the painting of him, showing him. His face brightens up even more seeing him as a painting. "That's how you see me? I'm surprised you're not in love with me. What a handsome lad!"

Y/n laughs, handing him the painting, then picking the art of her back up. "You might really steal my talent, Fred!" Y/n jokes. "I might have to hang this in my room!"

"You better! I spent my precious time on that!" Fred exclaims. Smiling, Y/n looks around the room, noticing it is now dark outside. Fred notices too, then looks back at Y/n. "Hope I didn't keep you here," Fred says, feeling a bit bad for using up so much of her time.

"You didn't, I enjoyed our time together." She smiles, getting up. "We better get back before it's past curfew." Fred nods, getting up as well. They both had each other's art in their hands as they walked to the common room, chatting about random things.

"Why do you spend breakfast alone?" Fred randomly asks. Y/n looks at him confused, wondering when he noticed this. "Again, you really think I don't notice you, Y/n?"

"No, you are always so busy with everyone." Y/n says, still looking at him as they continue to walk.

"I'm never busy for you," He says with a playful tone, smiling down at her. Y/n feels her heart beat quicken a bit, the corners of her mouth lifting as she looks ahead of her.

"To answer your question, I guess no one invites me to sit with them, so I don't want to intrude. I don't really mind it."

"You can sit with me, you know? I'm sure- no, I know George would love to get to know you." Looking back up at him, she smiles.

"Okay, I'll sit with you tomorrow then."

"Good," Fred grins, noticing they arrived at the fat lady painting. They enter the almost empty common room then walk up the stairs together. "Good night, Y/n, see you at breakfast." Fred says, watching Y/n turn to him.

"Good night, Fred." Y/n says, turning back around and entering the girls section of the dorms.

The End

A/n: I might add more onto this, I'm not sure though, but I really like this! I think it's so cute. Thank you all for the support I have been getting! I love you all so much!!