#fred weasley drabble

[hanasnx]

“ BUT I’M TOO TIRED TO GO TO SLEEP TONIGHT ” — fred weasley.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader ノ smoking: cigs ノ romance.

FRED WEASLEY wakes you up real late, you barely see him in the dull light. he’s all bundled up, whispering, “get your coat, c’mon.” groggily, you follow him to some hall you don’t recognize, yawning through your question as to your destination. he grabs your hand, and you sober up a bit. “just trust me.” he tells you. and you do. he takes a shortcut behind a statue, and the cold reaches you before you exit the mouth of the cave and up a ladder. and when you emerge, snow falls into your lashes, and you can see your breath. he pulls you up and out by your arm. “amazing, isn’t it?” he asks, husky from the thinner air.

it’s dark, and the snow crunches under your boots as he takes you to stand aside a little shack. “george was knocked out cold, couldn’t drag him here if i wanted to.” he muses, and a weak scoff emits from your throat, mirroring him as he leans his back against the wood. the ginger ends of his hair lick out from the beanie he wears.

“what are we here to do, exactly?” you question tentatively, wary he’ll chastise you for not trusting him. he glances at you, and you feel small under his gaze. he breaks the trance to rifle around in his pockets.

“ah.” he exclaims as he retrieves it. a little beaten gray box. your brows furrow as your arms wrap around yourself for warmth, shivering in the wind. “here we are.” he flashes the front of it to you, and you tilt your head for a better look. you don’t get it until he opens it up and knocks a familiar stick from it. a white paper tube with a tanned end. he offers it to you, and you swallow, hesitantly reaching to pinch it between your brittle fingers. he takes one himself after you. “had an urge, needed some company. hope you don’t mind.”

you inspect the cigarette, rolling it between the pads of your fingers. his lighter sparks to life, and with the help of his cupping hand it’s able to light the end of his cig. “i didn’t know you smoked. where’d you even get this?” you inquire with a crease of disbelief in your brow.

“dad’s been trying to kick the habit, hides ‘em all around the house.” the crackle of burning paper makes you pivot your head to watch him, his cheeks hollowing as he takes a drag and blows it out in a steady stream of smoke. “his work with muggles took him a little too far into their more dangerous inventions, easy to get wrapped up in it, i suppose.” he speaks from experience, you can hear it in his voice. your questioning gaze alerts him, meeting your eyes to come to his own defense. “i don’t do it all the time. c’mere.”

so as to not seem inexperienced, you recall what he did before with his cigarette, and mimic it in your own actions. you lean in to his cupped hand while his thumb swipes at the lighter, sparks spray in front of your nose a couple times before it enflames. you don’t breathe in, and the light goes out.

“here.” he instructs gently, “cup your hand- like this.” you do as he says, raising your palm to curl as his does, protecting the flame, and brushing your hands together. you nearly jump out of your skin, but he follows your jerk, keeping your hands next to each other while he flicks the zippo. as soon as the fire flickers to life, he adds, “breathe in.” you inhale deeply, sucking in, and it’s hot against the back of your throat, squeezing your eyes shut as you retreat. a feather of smoke spills from the end, but you can’t focus on anything else other than the pain in your lungs, fit to burst. you yank the cig from your mouth, and cough out the smoke, couldn’t hold it in even if you wanted to, but you try to stifle yourself to avoid this humiliating feeling. the back of your hand covers your mouth, and you feel an arm snake around you. “oh, right. s’your first time. forgot that happens.” he draws you into his side, letting you cough it out while he strokes on your back. he reaches around and plucks the cigarette from your grip to get it out of your way, and your hands fly to cup your neck, tears stinging your eyes.

after you calm, you realize where exactly you are right now. and your body temperature rises despite the environment. the paper pinched between his knuckles is offered back to you, bobs in view to signal you to take it. you clear your burning throat, and a shaking hand retrieves it. it frees up his hand so he can pull his own from his mouth to blow out the smoke. suddenly the smell is making you feel a little queasy.

his palm on your upper arm jostles you gently, “you alright there, birdie?” that embarrassment comes back, blooming heat onto your cheeks, fighting the cold. you’re sure your nose is frozen by now.

you nod. “mm-hmm.” he nods back, looking out onto the snow.

“we’ll head back soon.” but you’re not in too much of a rush, instead you give it another go after a few seconds. you take a much smaller sip, and he keeps his arm around you. it’s quiet, and you start shaking for a different reason. it’s rare you’re ever alone with fred, and you always make a fool of yourself when you are. warily, your peer over to the side, following the sight with your pivoting head, and you squeak at the feeling of lips against yours. a warm face pressed against your cold one, confusing you with differing temperatures that your brain can’t separate.

you’re too stunned, too frigid. an inflexible mouth receives a confession of desire. the cigarette drops from your brittle fingers.

on the way back it’s quiet then too, but the cigarette has since calmed your nerves, an artificial kind of serene, following him back like a ghost. you eye his hanging hand, and you gain the courage to lace your fingers with his—he’d just kissed you after all.

[lqveharrington]

Never Planned | F.W.

summary: you and fred had been friends for so long that it never occurred to the both of you that everyone thought you were dating.

pairing: fred weasley x gryffindor!reader

includes: fluff, the both of you being mischievous, kissing, cursing, the two third years being wingmen when they don’t even know it

a/n: officially working on requests the second this gets posted!

You and Fred had the same routine every Sunday night after dinner. The routine was simple and familiar—so familiar that even the younger students knew it all too well. Every Sunday evening, you would typically read the Daily Prophet or do final touches to your essays while Fred would find a way to bother you until you finally gave into him and give him attention. That’s how Sunday nights would always go.

Except for tonight. For some reason, today felt off and neither of you could place a finger on it. The evening started off normal, but the longer you ignored it, the more the feeling intensified.

You were supposed to be working on your Charms essay, but all you could think about was the small feeling nagging at the back of your mind. You were so absorbed with the thought that you didn't realize you were biting the tip of you quill until Fred pulled your hand away from you, propping his feet up on your lap.

"What's with the face, Faucett? Need help with your Charms essay?" Fred asked, pouting dramatically when you snapped out of your trance and pushed his feet off your lap. "You hate me."

You scoff and roll up your parchment, placing it away on the side table. "I do not hate you, Fred."

“You do.” He teased and angled you to face him, pulling your legs to lay over his lap instead. He watched you rest your head against the cushions of the couch, making him tap your knee in concern. “What’s wrong?”

You huff and play with the threads of you sweater that Molly had made you this past Christmas, meeting his eyes that were filled with more emotion than you could place. “Nothings wrong with me, but it feels like something in this room is, you know?”

Fred looked over at the other people in the room. There were hardly any people in the Gryffindor Common Room on Sunday evenings. Everyone was out either making use of the last few hours of freedom they had before classes started the next day or in their dorms, trying to cram for any surprise quizzes.

The only people that were in the Common Room were a group of first years comparing notes, some fourth years playing exploding snap, and a pair of third years conversing quietly in a corner, tucked away from prying eyes and voices—such as Fred Weasley himself.

Fred raised a brow at the two boys who looked away quite quickly when they met the older boy's gaze. He turned back to you for a quick second, replying quietly to your previous comment. “Maybe…”

You crease your brows and look over at the pair of boys as well, “What—?”

“Oi!” Fred hollered at the two third years, making the entire room snap their heads over at the sudden boom of a voice. You blew a piece of hair away from your face in exasperation, giving the other students apologetic looks for the commotion.

“What are you blokes whispering about?” He called out, making the third year on the left burn bright red.

You poke Fred's arm when you saw the poor boy's face, not deterred by all his muscles underneath his own sweater. “Fred, stop bothering them."

The same boy looked away from you two, swallowing thickly while his friend pursed his lips in an effort to not laugh at the current situation. While the rest of the room went back to what they were doing, Fred continued to watch the pair, waiting for a response from either one of them.

Finally, after the two boys whispered back and forth—for Godric only knows how long—one of them spoke up, making the red-head beside you perk up instantly.

“Nothing important.” The teen on the right said for the sake of his friend, waving a dismissive hand in your general direction. “Just trying to figure out how to ask this girl out."

The second you both heard those words come out of the boy's mouth, you looked over at Fred who was already looking back at you with a grin that could only be described as smug.

You sighed, knowing you couldn't do much to stop whatever Fred planned on doing. “Freddie, don’t—“

He stood from his spot on the couch, hands placed on his hips like he suddenly knew the answers to everything in the universe. “Luckily, you’ve come to the right man—“

“—Boy—“ You quipped from his side as you followed him to ensure he wouldn't do or say anything stupid.

“Shut up.” Fred half-heartedly pushed you to the side, still catching you when you stumbled over your feet. He stuck his thumb in the other teen’s direction, “Anyway, who does he fancy?”

You roll your eyes at his antics and give them a warm, reassuring smile, hoping it would take their minds off whatever foolishness Fred has in plan. “First, what are your names?”

“I’m Oliver, and he’s James.” The boy on the right said tentatively, the one on the left—which you both now knew was James—nodding in agreement.

Fred clasped his hands together and nodded mindlessly, keeping his eyes trained on the boys. “Alright, I’m Fred and she’s the pain in my arse—“

“Can you focus?” You groan and shove him to the side, laughing loudly when he threw you over his shoulder to get you to stop interrupting—although the two of you knew it was hopeless.

“Oliver, who does James fancy?” Fred asked, ignoring your calls and protests.

You continued to wiggle yourself free from his grasp, huffing when he held onto you tighter. At that point, the rest of the Common Room gave you odd looks, making you flush a bright pink in slight embarrassment.

Oliver opened his mouth to speak, hesitantly as he stared at you and Fred in concern and confusion, unsure what to do in the situation. “Uhm… He fancies this girl in Hufflepuff named Lila—“

You gasped and hit Fred hard in between his shoulder blades, earning a groan as he dropped you from his arms. You spun around and gave James a soft look, knowing exactly who Lila was. You had tutored her last year in Potions—and based on your five minute interaction with James—the would be the perfect pair.

“She’s really bright and gifted in Herbology.” James says softly, making your heart ache at how he spoke about Lila in adoration.

“Have you tried to ask her out before?” You ask and watch him fidget with his hair.

He shakes his head, eyes darting away from your face toward the ground. “I’m too nervous.”

After recovering from you sudden attack, Fred clapped his hand on James’ back, ruffling his hair when the boy looked up at him. “Don’t be, you look handsome and clearly you’ve got the brains for it.”

In an instant, you saw an increase of confidence in the thirteen year old, making you grin at the sight. Maybe Fred being nosy in other students’ conversations wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

You watched for another second before murmuring something to Fred about finally finishing your Charms essay, giving the two boys one last smile. Before you left for the couch, Fred subconsciously pressed a kiss to the top of your head, knowing you were leaving even though he barely listened to you as he continued to speak to the younger students.

“Ask her out to a picnic by the lake or in one of the outdoor gardens—Not Hagrid’s, of course. That would be a nightmare.” Fred clarified with a small smirk decorating his face, leaning back on one of the armchairs behind him as the boys listened intently.

“Thanks, I’ll ask her tomorrow after class.” James replied with a new found determination in his voice.

Finally snapping out of his small trance, Oliver switched his gaze from Fred to your spot on the couch, tilting his head with a raised brow. “How did you ask your girlfriend out?”

Fred copied his facial expression, turning his head to follow the boy’s eye line when they landed on you. He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue before clearing his throat, waving a dismissive hand in the air.

“Oh, we’re not dating.”

“Sure seems like it.” Oliver crossed his arms and raised both brows this time, judging Fred like he was a liar. “You can’t give out advice about dating without having a girlfriend yourself.”

“My advice is fool proof!” Fred blurted, almost baffled that a thirteen year old accused him of spreading false information—though he has done that multiple times before to everyone he knew

“Then how come you don’t have a girlfriend?”

Fred opened his mouth and shut it, putting his index finger up toward the boys before turning and walking over to you. He stood in front of you with his hands in his front pockets, waiting until you finished your thoughts on the essay before speaking.

“Did you know people think we’re dating?” He said quietly, earning a wide-eye look from you. Based on your reaction, you probably didn’t know either. “Yeah, weird. Those two boys thought we were dating.”

“That’s the weird feeling I was getting in this room.” You say as you twirl your golden charm necklace between your fingers, looking over at the two boys who suddenly looked guilty and mischievous at the same time. You raise a brow and look back at Fred with a small smirk, making him grin back.

“Can you imagine the shock on their faces if they believed it took you two seconds to land a girlfriend?”

Fred bent over by the waist, lips mere centimeters from yours. “And what do you have in mind, Faucett?”

Your smirk widens before you pull him in by the collar of his sweater, lips meeting his faster than anyone could have expected it. As if someone flipped a switch in Fred’s mind, he quickly reciprocated, hands coming up to cup the back of your neck and cheek.

For a second, the two of you were completely immersed in each other that you didn’t realize that—once more—the Gryffindor Common Room stared. This time, they stared only for a brief moment before looking away. It seemed like everyone expected it since the moment you both walked into the Common Room together on any Sunday evening.

You separate after the kiss that lasted longer than you both thought it would last, the two of you slightly out of breath, but still wearing eat-shitting grins at fooling the two third years in their small corner. Fred glanced at them from the corner of his eye, winking at Oliver specifically when he stared with a gaped mouth.

“That’ll be the best piece of advice they’ll ever get.” You laugh quietly as Fred plops down beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder and wrapping his arm around your abdomen, warm against your skin under the sweater. “You’re not going back to those two boys?”

“Nah, it’ll ruin the fun.” He drawled and looked up at you with his pretty brown eyes, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder unexpectedly. You looked down at him and raised a brow, waiting for an explanation from the one Weasley you liked a little more than the others.

“So, you? Me? Next weekend? Hogsmeade?” He asked with a confident smile, twirling a piece of your hair in between his index and thumb.

You bite back a smile and pat his cheek, his own smile never wavering. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, Weasley.”

“Is that a yes?” He questioned, looking between your eyes.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” You say as you go back to finishing your essay, not caring for the blush that rose to your cheeks.

You and Fred have been friends since first year, but it never crossed your mind that you could ever be in the relationship everyone assumed you were in. Not until this year. It felt like you clung to every single word he spoke to you this time, and it felt so different.

All the pranks he would plan with Lee and George was always relayed to you, every gift he planned to give to his family members went through you—you were practically his without officially being his.

“I plan for many things, Faucett.” Fred moved to sit properly and dragged your legs back on top of his lap, messing with the embroidery on your jeans. “But I never planned on someone like you kissing me just to mess with two thirteen year olds.”

“You went along with it.” You clarify, knowing damn well that he also wanted to prank the two teens. Besides, it’s not like it was your first time kissing Fred. Not at all.

Your gaze meets his, “So what, you actually want to take me out on a date now?”

“Yep.” He continued to grin and trace the embroidery.

You carefully tuck away your Charms essay once more, continuing to hide the smile that came with the thought of going out with Fred Weasley. “I guess I’ll go on a date with you.”

Fred didn’t even know his grin could get bigger, but it did. He pulled you as close to him as he could, arms wrapped securely around your waist as he tilted his chin down to meet your eyes. “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

“You are bad news.” You laugh and melt into him when he pressed a kiss to your forehead. You raised a brow at him, “Never planned huh?”

“Nope.” He popped his syllables with a smile so bright you swore the sun would shake in it’s presence. “Never planned.”

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

[linalooneyhatter]

Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: He helps you through your struggles with food.

Warnings: eating disorder, bit of a panic attack.

You sit alone at the edge of the courtyard, textbooks open in front of you but barely read. Professor Snape let your class out early—something he rarely does—leaving you with a rare pocket of quiet before your next lesson. Lately, you’ve found yourself gravitating toward these quiet corners more and more, trading the chaos and laughter of Fred and George Weasley for solitude and study.

A classmate spots you and waves you over to a small group gathered around a professor offering extra tutoring for tomorrow’s exam—one in a subject you've always quietly struggled with. You hesitate, then nod and follow, clutching your books tighter than necessary.

Not long after, someone offers you a steaming cup of tea. You give a polite smile and shake your head. “I’m fine,” you say quickly. Your stomach twists—not from hunger, but from something else you can’t quite name—and you lower your gaze back to your notes, pretending to read.

Not far from where you're seated, Fred and George are playing catch with one of their enchanted fireworks, tossing it back and forth across the place with reckless glee.

The game comes to an abrupt halt when they spot you walking in, arms full of books, your steps a little slower than usual. In a flash, they disappear behind a pair of armchairs, creeping up behind you like mischievous shadows.

“Boo,” Fred whispers right beside your ear.

You flinch, nearly dropping your books. “Merlin’s beard—” you mutter, whirling around to find both twins grinning like they’ve just pulled off a masterpiece of mischief.

“Need a hand, love?” George asks, already relieving you of your stack of textbooks.

“Thanks,” you say, rubbing your temples with a tired sigh. “At least one of you has manners.”

Fred smirks. “So, did you get any?”

“Any what?” you ask, blinking in confusion.

“Any wrinkles,” George explains, feigning deep concern. “You’ve been buried in those ancient books with that grim little face—you’ll age into one if you’re not careful.”

You pause, then let out a soft laugh, rolling your eyes. “If I start quoting textbook passages in my sleep, you have permission to hex me.”

“Yeah, you should really focus all that energy on something more worthwhile,” Fred adds, giving your shoulder a playful nudge.

“Like what?” you ask, raising a brow.

“Us,” they say in perfect unison, throwing their arms out dramatically like they’re on stage.

You snort. “Of course,” you reply dryly, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrays your amusement.

Fred tosses an arm around your shoulders as the three of you make your way to the Great Hall, George juggling your books like props in some slapstick routine. The corridor is filled with warm scents—roast chicken, fresh bread, treacle tart—and the soft hum of lunchtime chatter floats toward you.

For a while, whatever’s been weighing on you slips to the back of your mind. Their banter and brightness wrap around you like a charm you don’t want to shake off.

You watch them pile their plates high with snacks and steaming food, laughing between bites and bursts of conversation. Your own plate sits empty. After a moment’s hesitation, you draw in a quiet breath and reach out, summoning the courage to grab something—anything.

But the sight of the food turns your stomach. You have no appetite at all. The warmth of the meal, the richness of it, only leaves you with a sick feeling you can't explain—not even to yourself.

Your thoughts began to spiral as you stared down at the food in front of you. It felt like it was staring back—accusing, overwhelming. Each dish blurred into the next, a chaotic mess of smells and textures that made your head swirl. The pressure to eat, to act normal, pressed in on your chest like a weight.

Panic crept in slowly, wrapping its cold fingers around your ribs, tightening with every breath. Your skin prickled with unease. No one seemed to notice the rising fear in your eyes, the way your chest hitched when you inhaled, or how the plates before you seemed to taunt you—silent, monstrous, whispering thoughts that only existed in your mind.

Your stomach twisted sharply, nausea coiling like a storm just beneath your ribs. You pressed a trembling hand to your lips, trying to will it away, to breathe through it. But the air felt thick—too heavy to swallow. The pressure to stay, to smile, to eat—it was suffocating.

Another wave of nausea surged, more violent than the last, and your cheeks puffed as you fought the rising urge to gag. You couldn’t sit there any longer. The walls felt too close, the noise too sharp, the weight of pretending far too much.

Mumbling a quick excuse—something about needing fresh air—you stood and walked briskly toward the doors, careful not to break into a run. You kept your eyes low, hoping no one would call out or follow. What you didn’t realize was that Fred had been watching you. He had seen the stiffness in your shoulders, the way your hands trembled when you reached for your glass and never drank. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe it was the way he knew you so well—but something in him stirred.

Without a word, he nudged George and murmured a quiet, “I’ve got it,” before slipping out after you.

Just beyond the Great Hall doors, you leaned against the stone wall, trying to steady your breathing. The cool corridor air brushed against your flushed skin, a small relief against the storm inside you. You clenched your jaw, blinking back the tight sting behind your eyes, trying to pull yourself together.

“Hey,” came a soft voice.

“Hey,” Fred said again, quieter now, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t answer at first. You were too focused on your own breathing—or lack of it. Your chest felt tight, each inhale shaky and shallow, like your lungs had forgotten how to work properly. You wrapped your arms around yourself, curling slightly into the wall.

Fred didn’t come any closer right away. He just stood nearby, giving you space, as if he knew crowding you would make it worse.

“All right,” he said gently. “Let’s try something.”

You looked at him, eyes wide and glassy, but said nothing.

“Can you look at me?” he asked, and you managed the smallest nod.

Fred crouched down a little so he wasn’t towering over you. “Good. Now just copy me, yeah? Breathe in…” He exaggerated a deep breath, slow and steady, holding it for a second. “…and out.”

You tried to mimic him, your chest hitching as you inhaled. It wasn’t perfect, but it helped.

“There we go. Again. In…” Another breath, soft and measured. “And out. Doesn’t have to be big. Just enough.”

You focused on him—his voice, his breathing, the gentle steadiness of it all. Eventually, the fog began to lift, just slightly. Your hands still trembled, but the wave of panic was starting to pass, leaving a dull ache in its place. Fred let you rest your head against his chest and closed your eyes trying to just focus on breathing with him.

Fred waited a moment before speaking again. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he said quietly. “But… something’s not right. I’ve seen it. The way you look at food like it’s hurting you. The way you’ve been pulling away lately.”

Your breath caught again—not from panic this time, but from something deeper. Shame, maybe. Or fear. You looked away, blinking hard.

“You don’t have to explain,” he added, softer. “But I’m here, yeah? You don’t have to pretend around me.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. The words sat at the back of your tongue, heavy and sharp.

“I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you said finally, your voice cracking. “I just… I can’t eat. Not like everyone else. It makes me feel sick. It’s like my mind won’t let me.”

Fred’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t look shocked or uncomfortable. He just listened.

“I feel like I have to earn it, sometimes. Like… if I eat, I’m failing at something. Being weak. I know it’s messed up, but it won’t stop.”

“You’re not messed up,” he said, firm but kind. “You’re hurting. And I’m really bloody glad you told me, because now I can actually try to help.”

You wiped your eyes quickly, embarrassed, but he only nudged your shoulder gently.

“You don’t have to fix it all today,” he added. “Just… let me sit with you through it, yeah? We’ll figure it out. Together.”

The weight didn’t vanish entirely, but with Fred beside you—quiet, steady, and unmistakably there—it felt a little easier to carry. The fear was still there, tucked into the corners of your mind, but it no longer felt like it was swallowing you whole. You weren’t alone. Not anymore.

Fred spoke up again, gently nudging the silence. “You know Madame Hooch isn’t showing up to class today? She’s come down with something. McGonagall said we’ve got the hour free to study…” He gave you a sideways glance. “But I’d say you’ve done more than enough of that lately. Don’t you think?”

You let out a soft huff, your voice dry. “Sick of studying. I’ve had it up to here.”

Fred grinned, clearly relieved to hear some spark return to your tone. “Brilliant,” he said. “Because I was going to suggest something else.”

You raised a brow, curious despite yourself.

“How about we sneak off for a bit? Somewhere quiet—edge of the Forbidden Forest maybe. No pressure, no books. Just you and me.”

He offered it so casually, but there was something behind it—a silent promise that he’d keep holding space for you, no matter what you were carrying.

And after everything, it sounded like exactly what you needed.

[desideriumwriter]

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

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

wc: 1.4k

f.w. masterlist | navi

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

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

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

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

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

9:47 PM.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He watched nervously as your face lit up in realization.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?” You let out a breathy chuckle.

And what about you? Where are you coming back from

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tell me what you thought!

[fear-is-truth]

warnings — suggestive ⋆ manipulation

the weasley twins are absolute menaces.

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

they love it almost as much as they love you.

you don’t realise, at first.

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

it always starts the same way:

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

you glare at him over your book, unimpressed.

“gee, wonder why.”

his grin only widens.

“haven’t the foggiest,”

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

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

your cheeks burn. “piss off.”

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

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

“again?”

fred grins. “reckon so, yeah.”

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

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

and then—

“good thing i’m george, then, innit?”

your stomach drops.

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

wait. wait. your eyes narrow in suspicion.

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

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

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

you don’t answer.

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

[agreeewrites]

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

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

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

masterlist | divider by @strangergraphics

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

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

⋆ and, of course you were.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋆ meeting their families was daunting as hell for you.

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

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

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

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

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

© agreeewrites 2025. do not copy, translate or claim my writing as your own.

[whimsicaldoxy]

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 - 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

pairing: fred weasley x reader

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

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

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[nottswitch]

⋆˙⟡♡ VENUS IN GEMINI

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

bsf!fred weasley x reader

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

nav // event / more

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

"you like that, huh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[emeritusemeritus]

Ooo longtime no talk!! If it’s okay, can I please request a Fred x fem!muggle!reader where they are married and she’s pregnant with a little girl, and Fred is such a loving and protective Husband and future father (it honestly makes her cry because she loves him sm and he’s so sweet) and they go to the Burrow to stay for the weekend with the whole family. Everyone is all doting on her, Molly loving taking care of her, everyone using magic to help her, and she bursts into tears right as Fred walks in the room (he’d so be like “why is my sweet wife crying??”) and it’s because she’s (alongside the pregnancy hormones) feeling kinda self conscious about being the only muggle in the family and worries she’s not enough🥺

Hi love!! So nice to hear from you again, I hope you’ve been well?! As always it would be my pleasure, I hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: PregnantWife!Reader, mentions of pregnancy and brief sickness, feelings of inadequacy, tears, hormones. Pregnancy hormones are no joke. Sweet Fred.

Word Count: 1.9k

Song for writing: No Surprises by Radiohead.

Just The Muggle [Fred Weasley]

Logically, you knew that you were just feeling overwhelmed and exhausted, but that didn't stop you from breaking down in tears the minute you finally got a moment alone.

You couldn't fault a single thing that had happened that day, nor could you fault a single member of the family congregated downstairs but for some reason you still felt overwhelmingly sad. You were one of the lucky ones, a woman that had married into a wonderful family that were warm, welcoming and accepting. A large family, much larger than your own, all with their own distinctive personalities that slotted in perfectly to create a mosaic of life and laughter in the Weasley family.

Arthur was quiet but sweet, always pottering about or tinkering, inquisitive with his questions and always an active listener who had the best intentions. Molly was the ideal warm matriarch who seemed to never stop, always helping her family in some way or another. She was wickedly quick with her wit and almost omniscient, an inviting character that you wished to never see the bad side of. Percy and Bill were quiet in comparison to the other children whilst Charlie was the sensitive one, a little more relaxed in his approach to life. Audrey was shy and quiet but very nice and Fleur was charming yet fierce, which you loved about her. Ron was a grumbler, usually a little moody though his sweetness shone through, usually counteracted by Hermione who balanced out Ron perfectly. Ginny was the one you were perhaps the most fond of except George, her fearless determination was to be studied. Harry was nice too, though sometimes a little quiet around the larger group.

You loved George like your own brother, a virtue considering he was so often by Fred's side that any rift would have been detrimental to all the relationships involved. He was funny and kind, a little gentler than Fred but you loved him all the same.

Fred, your husband, was your perfect man. His sparkling eyes, freckled cheeks and fiery hair, not to mention his towering height and wide shoulders that could make your mouth water. He was the funniest person you'd ever met and you adored his mischievous side, though you had heard he'd mellowed in recent years.

All of them were perfect in their own ways, and then there was you. The muggle.

Getting married to Fred Weasley had been the best decision you had ever made. Sure you had your regular spats just like any other couple, a few crossed words and little digs every now and then but there was never a day that you weren't happy. You'd never doubted your love for him or your futures together, feeling with assured certainty that Fred was your end game. You'd live a life with Fred that couldn't be matched, filled with fun and laughter. You'd grow old together and cause havoc right up until your last breath, exactly the way life should be.  

It had been a shock finding out that the man you'd met had been a wizard, a very, very big shock. You'd assumed he was joking at first, knowing he was a natural prankster that had told you that he owned a joke shop with his brother. But it wasn't a joke and was very much real. Your world had opened up that day and though you had to live under the veil of secrecy, it was an incredible life to lead. At first it had been wondrous if not a little overwhelming, suddenly the idea that anything was possible and learning about everything that was so foreign to you. Sure some of your friends had married out of their culture and you'd watched as they blended their lives together and created a melting pot of language and culture at home. But this had always felt different, bigger somehow- special.

But you couldn't deny that surrounded by so many witches and wizards with incredible talents you would never be able to replicate, you felt completely inadequate to be in their lives.

Especially now you were pregnant.

Molly had been your biggest support, offering and insisting to help out wherever she could. They didn't have much in the way of money but that didn't stop her and Arthur from helping in ways that you hadn't even considered at first. Molly had taken it upon herself to knit your unborn daughter an entire wardrobe, specifically saving her last reel of golden thread to embroider her initial onto the clothes once her name had been chosen.

It was the little things you noticed the most, like always making sure you had somewhere comfy to sit, your cushion plumped for you, your random craving foods already stored in. Seeing Molly in this way made you realise just how alike her and Fred were in that way, the little acts of service showing their love when it didn't need to be verbalised. She'd given you tonics that were tried and tested in the family to help with your sickness when regular muggle medication couldn't help.

The magic was a big help of course. On the days when the pregnancy exhaustion set in and you could hardly make it through the day without a nap, Molly would be round straight away without question to help out. She never overstepped your boundaries, never pushed you and never overstayed her welcome. With a flick of her wrist, your house would be immediately tidied, with the pots in the sink beginning to wash themselves and an array of other magical help.

There was one undeniable question that had bothered you almost from the moment you found out you were pregnant. Would the baby be magical too?

Fred had told you about purebloods, half bloods and muggleborns a few times, mostly at the beginning of you finding out about the wizarding world. You'd met Hermione of course, a muggle born witch who was apparently brilliant, her childhood being based in the non-magic world not hindering her abilities at all. But you also remembered Fred mentioning something called 'squibs', which you believed to be people born to magical parents, one or both, without magical abilities.

Ironically, only after you were pregnant did you ever consider the fact that you might give birth to a child with no magical abilities despite your entire life having been without the knowledge of magic up until meeting Fred. Once your mind got ahold of this thought, it became consumed by it, your mind spiralling from your insecurities.

What if your daughter was born without magical abilities and was treated like an outsider for rest of her life? With a family like Fred's it would hardly be possible to hide the wizarding world from her, especially considering Fred's job. Their family was known for being pureblood, how could you have come and ruined that? Or what if your daughter was magical and grew to be embarrassed by a mother who couldn't perform the simplest of spells? What if she loved her dad more than you because he had special abilities that made him fun that you couldn't even dream of and you just became the boring muggle mum she tried to hide away? You couldn't fathom the hurt it would cause either way and yet your mind couldn't help but wander to these dark thoughts.

"Sweetheart, what is it?" You heard from the doorway, alerting you to Fred's presence. Apparently you'd been too consumed by your thoughts and your tears to realise he had entered. You were sat in his childhood bedroom, whether it was Fred or George's bed you didn't know, with tears still stream in down your face.

Fred immediately jumped into action, as he always did when he saw your tears. He closed the door behind him and took a seat on the bed beside you, reaching his arm around your shoulders to pull you into his body.

"What's made my sweet girl cry? If it's Ron he's dead." You can't help but let out a chuckle through the tears at his words, knowing he'd jump at the chance to mess with his younger brother even at hive age.

"No, it's no-one," you say, trying to reassure him whilst also trying to calm yourself down.

"Is it too much for you? We can go home, mum will understand."

"No, well yes but no," you say quietly, not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings by leaving when they had been nothing but accommodating for you. He stays quiet now, sensing that you would open up to him and you pause, trying to find the right words and hope that all your thoughts don't tumble out of you all together.

"I'm not magic," you say quietly, wiping your slightly puffy eyes on your sleeve as you fight to hold back more tears.

"Debatable but go on," he interjects, using your little inside of joke of you seducing him being magic to try and cheer you up. You simply nudge him gently, telling him to shut up.

"What if our daughter is magic and she's embarrassed by me?" You sniffle, averting your gaze from his as more tears threaten to spill from the weight of your words.

"Baby, there is nothing about you that could make our daughter be embarrassed. Maybe your singing could be improved but really that's-."

"Fred I'm serious," you say, annoyance spilling into your voice as you lose your temper with his attempts to joke. "What if she hates me because I can't do all the amazing things you can do? I can't magic up twinkling lights or make things walk up walls. You have this incredible ability that I'll never have, I'm just going to be her boring mum that holds her back, the reason she can never be a pure blood."

"First of all, how dare you talk about my wife like that, and secondly, there's not a way on this earth that could ever be true. You aren't magic no, but she'll have enough of that from us, imagine all the incredible things you can teach her that I never knew about. The things you've shown me, taught me, the movies and the music and everything else in between. She'll have the best of both worlds."

His words actually do work to make you feel better. You hadn't thought of it like that, that your role in all of this could be her little sanctuary away from the wizarding world.

"And what if she's a squib? What if she has no magic?" You say, heart breaking at the thought that your precious baby could ever be seen as an outcast. Your tears start anew, your shoulders involuntarily moving up and down with the force of your tears. Fred's hand reaches out to cup your chin, his fingers hooked underneath so he can gently raise your point of vision towards him.

"Then we will figure it out, but regardless she will be the most loved little squib anyone has ever known. She'll still have the best of both worlds and she'll be a tiny version of her mummy, exactly like I've always wanted."

[imagineweasley]

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

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

--

Fred Weasley's Remedy to Nail Biting

Fred Weasley x reader

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

y/n: your name

word count: 1.1k

submit requests here! | masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[hanasnx]

fell in love without you

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

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

“Are you serious?”

One twin feigns offense. “Deadly serious.”

The other mimics him. “Gravely.”

“S’only fair, innit?”

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

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

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

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

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

“And me.” the other adds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lqveharrington]

Every Year in Greece? | F.W.

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

pairing: dad!fred weasley x mom!reader

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

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

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

Now it was your ten-year wedding anniversary.

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

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

Until it wasn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fred hummed and thumbed your waist, “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

And indeed, Fred Weasley indeed made you swoon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[barnesunlight]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You ruined this the second you kissed me!"

"It was a mistake!"

"You're hurting my feelings!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can we kiss again?"

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

[dearharriet]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No rush.”

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

“What?”

Fred shakes his head. “Nothing.”

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

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

“So?”

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

“Found it.”

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

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

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

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

“I like it already.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? I can’t say that?”

You shake your head, truly sick of his teasing.

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

“I’m complimenting you, pretty girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Am not,” you insist.

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you ever forgive me?”

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

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

The pitter-patter of your heart picks up again.

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Freddie.”

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

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

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

Just like that, he’s gone.

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

“Shouldn’t we go?” you ask.

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

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

+

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

[whimsicaldoxy]

𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 - 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

pairing: fred weasley x reader

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

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

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ta-da! A Magic 8-Ball!” you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─── 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ───

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

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

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

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

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

For Fred ♡

1. STUCK IN THE MIDDLE WITH YOU - STEALERS WHEEL

2. BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY - QUEEN

3. REBEL REBEL - DAVID BOWIE

4. GO YOUR OWN WAY - FLEETWOOD MAC

5. ALL THE YOUNG DUDES - MOTT THE HOOPLE

6. RIGHT DOWN THE LINE - GERRY RAFFERTY

7. PIANO MAN - BILLY JOEL

8. HEROES - DAVID BOWIE

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

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

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

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

I, I will be king

And you, you will be queen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And I, I’ll drink all the time

Cause we’re lovers, and that is a fact

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

Yes, we’re lovers, and that is that

Though nothing, will keep us together

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fred hesitated for a moment, clearly conflicted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[nottswitch]

⋆˙⟡♡ VENUS IN SAGGITARIUS

venus in saggitarius is adventurous, always eager to explore and experiment. in relationships, this placement values a partner who isn’t afraid to discover new things with them and is interested in sharing new experiences together.

fred weasley x reader

warnings: 18+ mdni, public sex, anal, masturbation (f receiving), slight restraining, cursing

nav // event / more

it was completely unexpected – but then again, nothing was ever really planned with your boyfriend. you hadn’t been together for that long, but had already managed to claim most places around the castle with heated sexual encounters, ranging from simple makeout sessions to trying out something completely new and uncharted. you had a running joke between the two of you that the only place left unfucked was dumbledore’s office, and even that had a potential to change.

but it turned out that the quidditch stands had also never been used by the two of you as a sex platform, which fred absolutely had to rectify. it was only fitting that you looked especially delicious in that dress you came to watch him practice in, and it did a pretty poor job at hiding the prettiness of your ass. he had to have it.

"freddie, fuck–"

you tried to stifle a moan by biting your lip, but it was pretty much impossible – not when fred’s cock was effortlessly sliding in and out of your tight butt, and one of his hands was at your front, rubbing your aching clit. it was already dusk, so the stadium was empty – technically, no one could see you right now. still, what’s to say that no one would wander into the stands during an evening stroll? patrolling prefects, professors… but the thrill of possibly getting caught, as usual, only added to the excitement.

"what’s wrong, love? cat got your tongue? or something else, perhaps?" fred chuckled hotly into your ear, taking your attempts at staying quiet as a challenge. his hips started snapping even harder to yours, the slapping sounds echoing off the empty stands and through the entire field.

"ba-a-abe…" you moaned out, every syllable broken by another thrust. "we need to… be quiet…" you managed to get out, clutching the back of some bench for dear life, nails digging into the wooden surface.

"yeah? but where’s the fun in that?" fred asked with mock curiosity. of course, there was no fun in that, and he knew you agreed, if the increasing wetness of your pussy was anything to go by. he pressed his fingers firmer to your clit, making your whole body shiver with pleasure. you knew you wouldn’t last long, and fred felt the same, thrusting into your tight little hole deeper and deeper each time.

"oh, i think i heard some footsteps," he taunted just as you were about to cum, and you barely held back as your palm flew to your mouth, covering your sounds. fred wasn’t a fan of that, his free hand grabbing your wrist and pinning it down behind your back.

"come on, honey, no need to be shy," he murmured, his thrusts growing sloppier each passing second. he was barely restraining himself as well, but clearly wanted you to go first. "wanna hear you cum ‘round my cock, alright? come on, love, be a good girl f’me…"

you couldn’t help it – a moan tore from your throat as his fingers started swirling faster and harder on your clit, and you came, shamelessly and loudly, your voice almost thundering in the otherwise quiet stadium. fred groaned and finally released right after, spilling deep inside your ass, his cock throbbing with pleasure.

"fuck, baby, that was…"

"yeah… yeah.”

"so, dumbledore’s office next?”