#fred weasley/oc

[lordprettyflackotara]

fill the void || fred weasley

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+

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

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

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

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

Yuck.

“Am I interrupting?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna grab a butterbeer sometime?”

“Shut up Weasley.”

[wreckofawriter]

Only If You Catch Me

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pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: fred had always been frustrated by your endeavors with other men, especially other men that always looked quite a bit like him. after a disastrous mistake during quidditch practice you find yourself wondering how you had never seen fred Weasley in the light you saw him in now

word count: 4.4k

warnings: jealousy, language (maybe?), only proof read once so sorry for any mistakes!

a/n: this is my first big piece in ages, I hope you guys enjoy and im so sorry for my prolonged absence i fell off on writing for a while and im just now getting back to it

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Some things were just facts, plain and simple; the sky is blue, two and two is four and you had a type.

“Another ginger I see.” Alicia murmured as you sat down across from her, pints of butter beer clinking together. Your eyes were locked with a pretty freckled boy by the bar. 

You huffed even though she was quite right, this must have been the third redhead that you set sights on this year. “Well William got boring and,” You paused wrinkling your nose, “-pushy” 

The Three Broomsticks was packed, the sounds of chatter and warmth guarding you from the icy cold of the blizzard that had swept through Hogsmeade. You and Alicia had joined the dozens of students seeking cover in the popular pub and quickly snagged a small table near a large fireplace where you now looked out on the sea of flushed faces and smiles. 

“With your type it's a wonder your last name isn’t Weasley.” Your friend chuckled and you laughed. 

“If I could have gotten my hands on Charlie, it would be.” You replied, your silly crush on the older Weasley brother lasting from your first year to what you were sure would be your last. 

Alicia giggled, taking a large swig from her pint, licking the foam off her top lip. “Why not one of the twins then?”

“What twins?” A voice asked from behind you.

“She couldn’t be talking about us now could she, Georgie?” Fred jested.

“No no,” The other replied, “I mean what could Spinnet possibly want from us?”

Alicia rolled her eyes with great effort, “Trust me when I say I want nothing to do with you. As for my friend here, I don't know if I can say the same.” she said with a smug grin and you sent her a furious look.

Fred smirked, leaning over the back of your chair, his large palms ghosting your shoulders, “Is that true? Do you need something from us?” He leaned in even further, his nose brushing your hair, “from me?”

You began to look a bit red as he pulled away, “Please Weasley,” you managed to scoff “since when do I need things from you? In fact, I believe you still have my Charms notes.”

Fred had come to stand in front of you now, George joining his side, “It's just that your notes are so much better for writing Flitwick’s essay. ” He argued. 

“You don’t even take notes.” You said, exasperated. 

“Exactly” The twins replied in unison. 

Alicia snickered beside you.

Chairs appeared and Fred and George sat. The table seemed half the size it was before as Fred's elbow knocked against yours.

“Made yourselves at home have you?” You spoke, wincing.

Fred just grinned and leaned purposefully closer, thighs now brushing.

You slid towards Alicia who was turning a laugh into a cough and set your eyes back on the boy with freckles. 

“You headed to the Slytherin match next weekend?” Alicia asked absently.

“Of course.” George replied, “I’ve bet Lee a galleon that Malfoy catches a bludger with his nose.” he chuckled,  “He reckons it’ll be his gut.” 

You all smiled at the idea, no one hated Malfoy more than those on the Gryffindor quidditch team. 

“We also have business to do.” Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.

“You don't have any more of those nosebleed nougats do you?” You asked, eyes still across the room, “I’ve got to get out of Binns’ class tomorrow.” 

Alicia's eyebrows shot up, you hardly missed History of Magic, or as you liked to call it, nap hour. “Why's that?”. 

“No reason.” You mumbled, intently staring into your butterbeer. 

Fred’s eyes darted between the two of you. 

“Of course we’ve got some.” grinned George, oblivious, “2 sickles a pei-.”

“Or for free if you tell us what you're up to.” Fred interrupted, catching a strange look from his brother. 

“I'm not up to anything!” You gasped with a bit too much enthusiasm. 

Alicias eyes had narrowed to slits and Fred had never looked more unconvinced. 

Your face began to grow hot and you found yourself wishing you had more grace in the act of lying.

“Oh come off it,” George said, “If she wants to snog Murphy instead of hearing about the seventh generation of goblin rebellions, who are we to judge?” 

You were glowing pink now, sending a vicious look at George who had taken to sipping his drink innocently. 

Fred looked appalled, his face contorted like he had just caught a whiff of something horrible, “Murphy!” 

“Keep your voice down.” You hissed angrily, glazing across the room again to be sure he hadn’t heard, “I'm trying to keep it quiet.” 

Fred was fuming, “Who wouldn’t, swapping spit with a git like that.” 

You scoffed, pulling out a small coin purse, “Can I just have some nougat?”

“Nope.” Fred responded, voice suddenly ferocious, “We’re out.”

You were beginning to grow frustrated, “George just said you had some.”

Fred glared at you, “We’re out.” he repeated his nose high in the air.

You turned to George looking for help but he threw you an I’m-not-getting-into-this look and you were forced to round back on Fred. 

You glared at each other for a moment before Fred caved, "Fine we’ve got some,” He huffed, “Three Galleons.” 

Your mouth dropped, “George said 2 sickles!”

He crossed his arms, “They’re in high demand.”

You stood, chair flying back into the wall with a loud crack, “You’re a complete prick.” you said sharply snatching your bag and sweeping past Fred and over to meet Finn Murphy  who was now standing to leave the pub. 

“Well I think you handled that well.” Alicia said, grinning at Fred who looked as though he had been slapped. 

George, who looked all too happy with himself for instigating such an interesting conversation, helped himself to the remains of your butterbeer as you and Murphy bowed out into the flurry of white followed closely by Fred’s glare.

“Looks as though she's gonna snog every redhead at school before you.” Alicia snicked. 

“Yeah,” George snorted, “You might want to keep an eye on Ginny.”

Alicia giggled even harder, pressing a hand to her lips in an attempt to keep her drink in her mouth. 

Fred could hardly hear them, too busy envisioning your latest with large boils all over his face or perhaps vomiting indefinitely. 

Alicia managed to contain herself and shot Fred a sympathetic glance, “I've been trying you know, I keep bringing you up but she seems far more interested in Charlie.” 

“Charlie!” He guffawed, “But he's been gone for ages!”

“Well he seemed to have made quite the impression.” Alicia chuckled. 

“He was captain when she was appointed to the team.” George pointed out. 

“Yeah when she was TWELVE” Fred gasped. 

Alicia couldn’t help it, she had started laughing again, “Relax,” She spoke between breaths, “It’s just a silly school girl crush.” 

Fred looked unconvinced and began to tap his heel incessantly against the floor.

“Take it as a complement!” She continued, “Charlie looks quite a bit like you, I mean you are related after all.” 

Fred was not taking it as pleasantly as she suggested and began to rap his foot on the ground even faster, “We’ve got to do something.” 

“We?” George snorted, “This is all you mate. I’m not the one in love with her.” 

Freds ears grew pink, “I’m not in love with her!” he sputtered. 

“Whatever you say.” Alicia spoke rolling her eyes.

The truth was that if Fred wasn't in love with you, he was so close he may as well have been. At the very least he had been pining after you for years and he had never been particularly quiet about it. In fact he was the opposite of quiet about it. His flirtatious remarks and dazzling complements were quite consistent. Unfortunately so was his coursing jealousy as you paraded around with boy after boy who was not him.  Every year he swore would be the year. The year where you finally realized it was him you needed and all would be right in Fred's world. But time and time again he failed as you walked out the door with a different redhead. He was growing nervous, his seventh year was upon him and this may be his last chance before you were all carted off in different directions never to see each other again. The frustration of it all was turning him bitter.

That night Fred lay awake on his four-poster, staring at the ceiling venomously. What was it? He wondered, What was it that he didn't have that every other ginger you knew seemed to possess? Why was it never him pulling you into broom closets and meeting you after classes? What was he doing wrong? His thoughts spun until he drifted into an uneasy slumber. 

By the time he arrived at the quidditch pitch for practice the next morning, the rest of the team was already changing into their robes as Angilina scribbled vigorously on the chalkboard in front of them, already changed and ready. 

“Fred!” She shouted watching him try to sneak his way into the bustle of the team unnoticed, “What took so long? I was beginning to think I would have to send George back up to wake you.” 

He shrugged, “Sorry Cap, I didn’t get much sleep last night if you know what I mean.” he winked at her and she looked sorely unamused. 

You on the other hand perked up at the insinuation, finally looking at the twin who, in protest of his behavior the day before, you had been ignoring. 

“She gets what I mean,” He smirked nodding towards you, “Up late with Murphy boy last night?” He asked viciously. 

You flushed as the changing room filled with chuckles. 

“Murphy?” Angelina asked, turning to you, “Isn’t he a bit,” She paused, “dim?” 

You scowled at Fred silently before snatching your broom from the rack and marching so quickly out onto the pitch that you hadn’t even noticed you had hit Harry in the temple with its handle. 

As Potter groaned in pain and fixed his askew glasses Fred looked over to Alicia who was shaking her head slightly. As the rest of the team slowly followed you out onto the field she and George made their way towards him. 

“You’re an idiot.” Alicia groaned, “No wonder she won’t go out with you.”  

George chuckled.

Fred glared at the pair, “It’s not my fault she insists on only snogging boys who are 'a bit dim.'" he spoke, mocking Angelina.

“I know that this may be hard to wrap your head around,” Alicia spoke sharply, “But maybe she went out with Murphy because he was, ya know, nice to her.” She then shouldered past the twins leaving Fred gapping at his brother desperately. 

The day was crisp, the heavy licks of winter drawn in by a bitter wind. But the sky was clear and the sun was out, much to everyone’s appreciation. 

Fred mounted his broom still angry, feeling foolish for upsetting you yet again as you stood with your back to him defiantly. 

The whistle blew and the balls were released as the team kicked off, snow flying in all directions as you did so. 

Fred's head was not in practice as it should have been but instead on you, watching you speed towards the goal posts with the quaffle already under your arm. You scored easily on Ron with a feign left.

Fred was so absorbed in you that he had completely forgotten about the bludgers, one of which was hurtling at him with frightening speed. With little time to react he swung his bat wildly and pitched the bludger in the opposite direction, which with a sickening feeling he realized was right at you. 

He tried to shout but you must not have heard him over the howling of wind in your ears. Because when the bludger struck you heavily between the shoulder blades you were completely unprepared. Your vision danced as the air was knocked from your lungs. You were flung from your broom with a shriek and began to plummet.

Fred streamed after you, urging his broom towards the ground with a frightening speed. His Cleansweep shuttered under the immense pressure he suddenly held it in and never before had Fred wished so badly for Potters Firebolt. 

He managed to get beneath you mere feet from the ground. The force at which you hit him knocked you both into the snow with a heavy thud, and there was a sickening sound as his broom snapped in two. 

Neither of you moved for a moment, the snow settling around you and beginning to melt through your robes. 

“Are you alright?” Fred asked and was struck with panic when you did not respond. He sat up quickly pulling you with him, your legs tangled together in the snow. He called your name desperately, hands holding your face as you lay limp in his arms. 

Angelina landed beside the pair followed closely by George and Alicia both of whom were wearing nervous expressions. 

“Y/n!” Fred shouted again, tears stinging his eyes, fear gripping his throat like a vice. He was moments away from shaking you when your eyes slowly peeled open. 

“Fred?” You mumbled, confused. 

The boy let out a barking laugh of relief and then dove into a hug, almost knocking you back to the ground. 

Bewildered, you returned his embrace and realized quite suddenly how much larger than you Fred really was. You practically disappeared into his chest, his broad shoulders shielding you from the wind that whipped across the pitch. You felt frighteningly warm listening to his heart beat quickly beneath his robes. Your cheeks were hot as he pulled away from you and began to search for any look of pain or damage on your face. 

“Are you alright love?” He asked again and was washed with relief when you nodded. 

As you fully realized what was going on around you, you gasped, pulling the handle of Fred's broom out of the snow.

“Your broom!” You looked horrified, “Fred, your broom broke!” 

Fred on the other hand brushed it off helping you to your feet and beginning to pat the snow off your robes, “It’s alright, I’m sure it's fixable.” he shrugged, “Listen, I am so s-”

But before Fred could finish his apology George burst between the two of you, “I am so sorry!” He spoke hurriedly, “The bludger caught me off guard. I swear I wasn’t aiming for you.” 

You chuckled, giving George a pat on the shoulder, “I sure hope not, but 's not me you should be apologizing to anyway.” You said, “It's Fred’s broom that broke.”  

George did not issue his brother any regrets and instead sent him a wink, whipping his wand out of robes and shouting “Repairo!”

The broom snapped back together and Angelina, who was desperate to get back in the air, looked to you, “You alright then?” 

You nodded with a grin and turned back to Fred who was testing the strength of his brother's repair. 

“Thank you so much Fred,” You gushed, looking up at him through your lashes. 

The boy's heart skipped a beat, stomach lurching, “It was no problem really.” He breathed and miraculously found you in his arms for the second time as you lunged towards him.

“Thank you.” You murmured into his robes before disconnecting and swiftly boarding your broom again. 

Fred watched you leave struck for a moment. Alicia shot him a thumbs up and a grin before he was able to clumsily climb onto his own broom and follow you back up into the air. 

By dinner the story of your fall had been told and retold so many times that you were now said to have plummeted upwards of a hundred meters before Fred had heroically scooped you onto his own broom, saving what was sure to be your life. 

In the great hall you kept getting asked if you were okay as down the table Fred got clapped on the shoulder and congratulated for his great save. He seemed to be enjoying the new story a fair bit more than you were. 

Finn had come over to ask about you halfway through dinner but you found suddenly that he was no less than boring and he returned to the Hufflepuff table after a few short minutes with a look of disappointment on his face. 

Fred watched this with such delight he was sure he was glowing. George -who he had been applauding as the best wingman one could ask for all day- poked him hard in the side and pointed down the table to where you sat. Fred turned to catch your eyes already on him. He winked exuberantly and you turned away with a scoff, but your cheeks had taken a rather deep shade of red. 

He grinned so wide at George he thought his lips might split, “I mean this is some real progress!” He cheered, “Did you see that? She was staring at me!” 

Down the hall you turned to Alicia, cheeks still pink, “Have you ever noticed how tall Fred is?” You asked so suddenly she choked on her pumpkin juice. 

You stared at her curiously as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve smiling, “Oh yeah very tall.”

You hummed looking back down the table at the elder twin who was now laughing wildly at something Lee had said, “I guess I never really thought about it before.” 

Angilina shot Alicia a glance as you were distracted and the two of them broke out into giggles. 

“What?” You demanded though you were still smiling. 

“Oh nothing.” Angilina grinned and you huffed turning back to your dinner. 

You found yourself wishing Fred had chosen to sit a bit closer to you as you watched a group of girls across from him break out into giggles at something he said, “There's no way he's that funny.” You muttered knowing he in fact was. 

  Yet you couldn’t find yourself being all that jealous as he kept glancing up at you, as if checking to make sure you were still watching him and much to his delight you always were. His shoulders, you noticed from where you sat picking at plum pudding, were quite wide, his arms toned. It was no wonder that he had engulfed you completely out on the pitch. 

How had I never noticed this before? You found yourself wondering. How had he managed to escape your list of potential suitors when he was so obviously perfect for you?

The thought struck you rather abruptly and while you would have liked to have sat with it for a minute, Alicia was standing and you knew it was time to head back to the common room. 

As students began to flood from the hall you fiddled with the sleeves of your robes, thoughts full of brown eyes and freckles . 

As if summoned, Fred appeared at your side grinning widely, “Hello.”

“Hey Fred,” replied Alicia. 

“Have you guys heard the news?” He asked, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You tried hard not to blush and instead shook your head, staring at the floor. “Apparently, you owe me your life.” He was beaming down at you now and you found it hard to look away. 

“Oh yeah?” You smirked, “And I heard it was actually you who hit me with that bludger.” 

His smile disappeared only momentarily and you were happy to see it recover so quickly. 

“Ah well, I figured Angelina wouldn’t keep her mouth shut.” He shrugged, “Though I swear if I had a choice I would have knocked her off her broom instead.” 

And for the first time that evening jealousy took you strongly, “Oh yeah? I suppose she would have been a bit more fun to catch then?” 

Fred looked startled by your bristly reaction, “Nah,” He responded, “That would have been Georgie’s job.” 

You were satisfied with this answer and felt yourself leaning against him as you began up towards the tower.

George was delighted to see you still tucked beneath his brother's arm when you reached the common room. He called you over to where he sat and you placed yourself in a large squishy armchair as Fred perched himself beside you on an ottoman. 

You spent your evening rather uneventfully, finishing an essay for Snape as the Gryffindors slowly filtered off to bed in pairs. When George rose to take himself to the dormitory you expected Fred to follow but instead he stayed rooted by your feet where he now sat cross legged on the carpet looking over what looked like an extensive order form. 

Hours later you yawned, stretching when you finally finished your work. It was now well past midnight and only a few fifth years remained, cramming for a quiz in transfiguration the next day. You turned to look at Fred who had long since sprawled himself across the couch before the fire and found him snoring softly. 

A jolt of infatuation made your stomach flip. His messy hair glowed shockingly bright in the fire light, his pink lips slightly agape. You gathered your things slowly, sure not to wake him before you stood beside him.

You knew you should wake him, you were the reason he had not retreated to bed after all. But he looked so peaceful like this, so soft. Instead you found yourself slowly counting the freckles that sprawled across his cheeks, leaning close to brush a strand of his bright red hair out of his face. He woke immediately at your touch, large brown eyes locking with your own.

You felt your cheeks go hot, “You should go up to bed.” You mumbled beginning to pull away. 

He snatched your wrist with such haste it took you by surprise, “Do that again.” he spoke.

You furrowed your brow, “What?” 

“With my hair,” It was his turn to blush now, “Touch my hair again.” 

It felt as though the air was sucked from your lungs yet you found yourself obeying, fingers coming to comb through the soft waves that spread across his forehead. 

He hummed, leaning into your touch slowly, gaze still locked with yours. The two of you stayed there for a moment, you kneeling beside him fingers in his hair, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist. 

“I’m sorry.” He murmured and you looked at him confused. 

“For what?” 

“Hitting you with a bludger.” he responded remorsefully. 

You laughed softly, your head thrown back, “It's okay Fred.” you grinned. You were close now, so close Fred could feel the tickle of your breath on his cheek, “I forgive you. You made up for it after all.” 

He smirked in spite of himself, “I suppose I did, saving your life and all.” 

You were giggling again and Fred was sure he was in some beautiful dream where all he could ever hear or see was your joy. 

“I wouldn’t push your luck if I were you.” You grinned, “I may just chuck the quaffle at your head when you're not looking.” 

“Only if you catch me when I fall.” Fred whispered, leaning closer still. 

You let him, your lips connecting slowly. You were pleased to find he was a fantastic kisser, his lips soft and plush, eager to please. His free hand cupped your cheek as he pulled you closer still until you were practically on top of him.

One of the alarm clocks the fifth years had been attempting to turn to roosters burst to life and you pulled away abruptly remembering bitterly that you and him were not the only ones in the room. Fred chased after your lips with his own desperate for even a moment more with your mouth.

“You should get to bed.” You repeated standing now, knees a bit shaky. 

Fred was disappointed by your departure but grinned wildly nonetheless as you gathered your books into your arms and turned back to him. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow Fred.” You yawned and began up the stairs to your dormitory determined not to let him see the childish glee that had spread across your face. 

“Wait!” He called after you, lurching from the couch and stopping at the bottom of the steps. 

You turned back to him taking in the wonderful sight of him staring lovingly up at you. He looked delightfully disheveled, his hair a mess and his lips swollen from your touch. You took two steps down now only one above where he stood on the hardwood floor.

You looked down at him expectantly as his eyes bore into your own. 

He lifted himself onto his toes and grabbed your shoulders forcinging you forward where you connected for a second time. 

This time his breath was hot and heavy on your lips, his earnest intensifying to a level that you could only describe as hunger. Your feet dangled momentarily in the air as he lifted you fervently into his embrace. You were suddenly engulfed in Fred again, he was all you could smell sweet and cinnamon, all you could hear were his pants in your ear, all you could feel was him, his arms around your middle, his thigh pressed between your legs and his lips and tongue working so well together that it was you who chased after him this time, whining in protest when he pulled back.

You stared at him, out of breath and stunned to silence. 

Fred looked as though he had just won something very expensive the way he was grinning with triumph, his eyes dark with lust. 

 “Sweet dreams love.” He murmured leaning down to give you one final kiss, his lips moving sickeningly slow against your own, wet and warm. He hovered inches form your lips for a moment, as if debating diving back in, before he backed away tucking his hands casually into his robes.

“You should go to bed, love.” He smirked, “We’ve got an early practice tomorrow and I do believe you made me a promise about knocking me off my broom.” 

You bit your lip to keep from breaking into girlish giggles. Your heart was still pounding as though you had just run a long race. 

“Only if you swear to catch me though.” He added with a wink.

“I’ll always catch you Freddie.” you assured him before turning and hurrying back up the stairs, grinning so wide your cheeks had begun to ache.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

taglist: @accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-dood13 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @coldlilheart @the-natureofme @trickylittlewitch @layaa-layaaa @sarcasticallywitty @rosieweasley @dracosgoodgirl @inglourious-imagines @princess-jules47 @daedreamss @d22malfoys @evyiione

m.list

[gods-graveyard]

"No one can tell the Weasley Twins apart" may be true, but with a few key exceptions.

_____________________________________________________________

McGonagall- She's iconic, and also how dare you imply she cannot tell two of her students apart, thats just blasphemy.

Lee Jordan- His best mates (and they told him)

Elisen Nott- Her best mates (and they didn't tell her, she learned out of spite)

Percy Weasley- They're his brothers, he really can't understand why no one else can tell

Oliver Wood- Quidditch, no elaboration.

Marcus Flint- Oliver & Percy told him how, and Quidditch.

Harry Potter- The vibes (Their freckles)

Theo Nott- The vibes (Magical signature)

Luna Lovegood- The vibes (but actually)

This is all based on my fic @yellow_sprouts on ao3 called "Navigating the den of snakes" and with the twins being introduced next chapter I thought I would go ahead and give a lil fun snip (although Theos is a minor spoiler)

[incorrectquotesharrypotterv]

Fred: Alright, George, Y/n. Let's go over this one more time.

Fred: If something breaks?

George: We try to fix it before Snape gets here.

Fred: If it doesn't work?

Y/n: We blame Ron.

Ron: Seriously, guys, what the hell?!

[fanfic-wonderland]

This Is War {Fred Weasley} - Part 2

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: After avoiding Fred for so long, (Y/N) finally has to face him again when they're paired up for a Potions assignment.

Word count: 7.8k

Read part one here.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you still not going to talk to him?” Daphne asks me during lunch, the same way she has asked me every day for the past few weeks.

Ever since I told her about my little… moment with Fred, she hasn’t stopped talking about it one way or another, even when I’ve asked her plenty of times not to. She seems to have become obsessed with the idea of him and I getting together because, according to her, we’d make “an oddly cute” couple, and also “because there is nothing interesting happening in my life and I want to live through you”. I don’t know what’s gone wrong with her head; I have made it extremely clear that the kiss meant nothing to me, that it was just something that happened in the heat of the moment when I was dampened and terrified and he was the only one there giving me the slightest bit of comfort. Either she still doesn’t get that, or she just doesn’t want to. “For the last time, Daphne Greengrass,” I say through gritted teeth. “No. And It’s the last time I’ll say it.”

Daphne whines like a toddler. “But why? It’s clear that he wants to talk to you!”

The kiss happened nearly two weeks ago. After I fled the scene, Fred made numerous attempts to approach me, but I would always find a way to cut the conversation short or avoid it at all costs. He seemed to finally get the hint because It’s been a few days since his last attempt. The only one who hasn’t gotten the hint yet is the girl sitting across from me. “He has his own life to worry about. I’m pretty sure he dropped it already, and so should you.”

She pouts as I stab a piece of pork chop and chew on it. “How are you so sure if you haven’t even talked to him about it yet? Maybe he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable and he’s just waiting for you to reach out to him.”

“Forget it, Daphne, there’s nothing to talk about,” I state firmly. “I made a stupid little mistake, that’s all. It’s not like I’m going to go ahead and do it again.”

“I bet you want to, though,” she mutters as she drinks from her cup. 

Her voice is low, and she thinks she’s sneaky, but I hear her. I refrain from saying anything else about it, though. It’s no use trying to convince her otherwise.

Fortunately, Daphne does not bring him up for the remainder of our lunch, nor does she bring him up while we learn how to turn vinegar into wine during Charms, or when we’re fighting not to fall asleep during History of Magic. I begin to think that maybe she’s finally gotten the hint until we arrive at the Potions classroom.

Professor Snape places a small bubbling cauldron on top of his desk as we all walk in—Gryffindors on one side of the room and Slytherins on the other. Through the corner of my eye, I spot the unmistakable pair of redheaded twins, sitting two tables to my right, and I fight the urge to turn and see if one of them is looking. “Settle down, all of you,” Professor Snape says in his usual dull voice. “Today, aside from your usual class, you will be placed in pairs for a special project. You will have to work with another student and brew the most powerful Truth Serum to ever exist—the Veritaserum. While it is very easy to sneak it into someone’s pumpkin juice, the brewing process is long and complex. That is why you’ll be working with a partner to make this potion. The longer its effect, the higher your grade.”

A Gryffindor boy raises an arm and Snape turns to him with a sneer. “Does that mean we have to work on it through Spring break?”

“Unless you want to fail, then yes, you should start on the first day of Spring break.”

Nearly every student in the classroom, including Daphne and I, groans in protest. Snape’s lips curl up into a nasty smirk. “That’s quite enough, I do not need to hear your whining. Get it done, or else you fail my class.”

As students begin to look around for their desired partners, I link my arm with Daphne’s. “It shouldn’t be too hard once we combine our geniuses.”

Daphne laughs and agrees. Professor Snape’s eyes fall on us for a quick second before he adds, “I forgot to mention that this is not a friendship project. This time, I’ll be assigning the pairings.”

The class groans even louder than the first time. “Enough,” Snape holds a hand up and we quiet down. “Perhaps when you learn to behave in my class I’ll give you the privilege of choosing your partner, but right now you'll work with what I give you. Now…”

Snape taps the cauldron with the tip of his wand twice and two small pieces of paper fly out of the cauldron. He catches them mid-air and begins to read aloud. “Johnson, Angelina and Warrington, Cassius.”

And then he does the same thing with the rest of the students. Daphne and I frown at each other once we hear her name being called alongside Alicia Spinnet but I guess it was expected that we’d be separated for this assignment from the beginning. The problem is, I realize as I scan the room, that there’s no one else I’d like to work with, and the people who would be fairly tolerable are already paired up with someone else. This assignment is looking to be the worst of the year so far. 

“Weasley, Fred and (Y/L/N), (Y/N).”

The absolute worst.

Daphne gasps quietly once she hears the names, her eyes on the brink of popping out. “Did he just…”

“Uh-huh,” I can’t construct a proper reaction. It feels like someone has just slapped me.

I make the mistake of looking over at Fred only to find that he’s already staring at me. He shrugs innocently but he’s clearly trying to hold back a smile while George is dying from laughter behind him. I glare at them and turn away. It can’t be a coincidence that we ended up working together. I refuse to believe that life is this cruel. “I don’t get it,” I protest as we walk out of the classroom. “How in the bloody hell do I get paired up with the person I wanted to avoid the most?”

“Hey, look on the bright side,” Daphne suggests, like there actually is a bright side. “At least you’re not working with Crabbe or Goyle.”

“You know, I think at this point I’d rather be working with either of them. At least they’re tame.”

“Yeah, and they’ll probably be more concerned with trying to eat your lunch or something.”

I laugh at her words but it is still not enough to distract me entirely from the situation. Because at the end of the day, I’m still paired up with Fred Weasley for an assignment I could do independently. “What have I possibly done to deserve something like this? There’s no way that life would just pull something like this out of nowhere.”

Daphne places a hand on my shoulder. “I did tell you to clear things out with him.”

I sigh. “You did. Do you think I’m being punished for avoiding the situation?”

“I totally do,” She nods. “Well that, or maybe it was just that Felix Felicis I drank in the morning taking effect,”

“True,” I agree… and then I halt my steps. “Wait, what did you just say?”

She stops walking as well, blinking cluelessly. “Oh, remember that Felix Felicis I brewed months ago? Well, I drank some of it today to help me with the Transfiguration test and I guess I did a great job brewing it because I seem to keep getting good luck everywhere I go. Neat, right?”

“And you’ve also been crying about Fred and I not talking for weeks,” I grab her by the collar of her shirt and she shrieks. People passing by shoot us odd looks but I’m too busy throwing daggers at her. “You were wishing for something like this to happen and of course, as soon as you drink a bit of Liquid Luck, it happens.”

“Well…” She tries to think of something before she gives up. “Okay yeah, so maybe it was kind of my fault, but you know what? You’ll thank me soon enough.”

“Right now I want to murder you,” I push her back and start walking away.

“Oh, hush, It’s not that big of a deal,” Daphne catches up. “So what if you have to work with him on a potion that takes too long to brew? So what if you have you spend your free time with him and—”

“Stop, stop, stop,” I cover my ears. “I do not want to hear it!”

Daphne leans closer and lowers her voice. “Well, you better do something about that because I think he’s waiting to talk to you.”

I follow her eyes and turn to look at Fred, who is usually walking alongside George and Lee Jordan but now is on his own leaning against a wall, hands buried in his pockets. He doesn’t try to hide the fact that he’s staring at me and I have to turn away. “I guess I do have to talk to him at some point. There’s no way out of this…”

She shakes her head slowly and I sigh. It takes every bit of me to turn back around and start walking towards him, but I do it. For the first time in what feels like so long I’m standing face-to-face with him; the two of us just stare at each other for a few moments. “Hi,” Fred breaks the silence.

“Hi,” I say flatly.

There’s a slight flirtatious glint in his eyes all of a sudden. “So… we’re all coupled up now, eh?”

I blink. “Can you not phrase it like that? Anyway, as you already know we have to work on this potion during our Spring break.”

Fred nods slowly. “Right…?”

“So, that means that we’ll have to meet outside of Hogwarts.”

“You want me to come over to your house, then?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

I tense up. I could never consider asking him to come over to my house, not even jokingly. That place is cold and empty, and my family is not the most welcoming with families like Fred’s. Even if I’m not fond of Fred, I would never want to put him through something like that. “Your house sounds like the better option, if you don't mind.” I say.

Fred raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes, why?”

He shrugs. “I just think that maybe my house won’t be to your taste, that’s all.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. As long as your family doesn’t mind, I can stop by.”

“They won’t. Here—” Fred takes out a folded parchment paper and hands it to me. “Here’s my address. I’ll see you, then?”

“Yeah. Until then.”

We walk away from each other and I’m feeling nauseous all of a sudden. 

Bloody hell, I have no idea how I’ll survive this…

***

The first day of Spring break arrives in the blink of an eye. Part of me is glad that I don’t have to spend my day at the manor because I’d rather be anywhere else, even Fred Weasley’s house. The other good thing is that, since I can finally use magic outside of school, I can simply apparate anywhere whenever I want. We decide to meet close to sunset, so around five thirty I gather everything I need and I get ready to disapparate from my house without the need to remind my parents where I’ll be. I’m not even sure if they’re still around (or if they even care) but I don’t think of them as the horrible sensation of apparating begins. Everything twists and turns around me, including myself, until finally, I stand amid sunshine, peace, and fresh air. I take it all in once I regain my composure. The place is a beautiful meadow and in it, a few yards away from me, stands a very peculiar, very lopsided house. It’s several stories high, with about four or five chimneys perched on top of its red roof, and a nice open yard at the entrance. I look around to make sure that there are no other houses around. This has to be it.

I walk toward it, careful not to bother the chickens wandering around the yard. There’s a sign near the entrance that reads THE BURROW and that’s how I’m certain that I’m in the right place. Fred specifically wrote that name down on the instructions. 

Now that I know that I’m at Fred Weasley’s house, I start getting a tad bit nervous. “Come on, (Y/N), you got this. You’re just here to work on a school project, It’s no big deal.” After taking a few deep breaths, I finally find the courage to knock on the door. For the first few seconds, nothing happens, but soon I begin to hear faded footsteps coming from inside. They start sounding closer, and soon enough someone is opening the door. It’s an older woman with lovely red hair, slightly shorter than me. I instantly know that I am staring down at Fred’s mother. “Hello, dear. You must be (Y/N),” She greets me warmly and I nod with a courteous smile. “Oh, good, how wonderful that you’ve made it! Fred has talked so much about you these past few days.”

“Has he?”

“Oh, yes—come in, come in!” Mrs. Weasley steps aside so I can cross the threshold. “And he wanted everything to look good before you arrived. It usually takes a lot to get him to do his chores, but this time he started on them without me even asking him, so I bet you’re quite a special girl. Anyway, you set your stuff over there on the sofa, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll fetch him. Dinner’s almost ready so I hope you’re hungry.”

She gives me one final smile before she walks up the stairs while calling Fred’s name, but my mind can only spiral around the things she was saying a moment ago. My face feels like It’s boiling, and it shouldn’t be, but the fact that his mom thinks that I’m a ‘special girl’ to him makes me…

Nope. No. No. You need to snap out of it, girl.

I focus my attention back on my surroundings. Everything is so different from my house… and yet, somehow, It’s so much better. The living room is welcoming and cozy and homey. The smell of roast beef and potatoes fills the air, making my stomach grumble. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was earlier. I sit down on the sofa and wait patiently for Mrs. Weasley to come back. I’m staring at the family clock, watching the golden hand with Fred’s face on it pointing at the word HOME, until I hear quick footsteps coming down the stairs. I turn to look at Fred’s real face this time. “I see you were able to get here without getting lost on the way,” He says.

I pry my attention away from the fact that his hair is dripping wet and sticking to his forehead like he just got out of the shower. “I did not doubt myself for a moment. Shall we start working on the potion so we can get it over with?”

“Wow, you really don’t want to be here, do you?” Fred chuckles. “We’re not even going to wait for dinner first?”

I sigh. “I just don’t think It’s a good idea for me to stay too long.”

“Because you kissed me.” He doesn’t say it like a question.

“Can you not say that so loud?” I shush him, making sure his mom is still out of sight, but his grin does not falter. I don’t even want to imagine how red my face is. “But… yes, kind of.”

“Well, I’m willing to look past it if you want me to,” He says. “Unless there’s another reason you don’t want to stay?”

I furrow my eyebrows. “What other reason could there be?”

“I guess I thought that maybe you’d think my house isn’t as nice as yours…”

I stare at him in disbelief. “You really have to stop assuming that I have some sort of superiority complex over you. And for your information, I think your house is lovely.”

Fred looks surprised for a moment. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I confirm. “I probably like it a lot more than mine.”

He stares at me for a second but before either of us can say anything else, Mrs. Weasley comes back to the room. “Fred, why don’t you show (Y/N) around the rest of the house? I’ll call you all back here once the food is ready.”

Fred turns to me. “You want to?”

I cannot bring myself to say no in front of his mother. “Sure,”

He starts his little house tour from the top floor, which happens to be where his younger brother, Ron, and his best friend, Harry Potter, stay. There are five floors in total but there’s not much to see. It's mostly just the bedrooms, but the house is still larger than what I had envisioned. The family is much larger as well. “This is the second floor, and our last stop,” Fred says once we take the last step. There are two bedroom doors on this floor level. “And this is mine and George’s room. I’ll let you get a sneak peek of our latest invention if you behave.”

I roll my eyes as he opens the door. “Gee, what an honor.”

Fred and George’s bedroom is somehow almost exactly as I had imagined it—not that I’ve been spending time imagining what their room looks like. It’s a simple room: it has two identical beds, each with a bedside table, a large wardrobe, some posters pasted around the walls, and a desk holding stuff… lots of different stuff. There is a particular lingering smell of gunpowder around and I cannot even begin to imagine the things that happen inside this walls. I step inside and glance at the mess on the desk. Amongst everything else, I see a briefcase with the words Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes engraved on the side sticking out from the rest of the things. I point toward it with a questioning look. “Ah,” He clasps his hands together. “I see you’ve already spotted our products.”

“Your products?”

“George and I invent joke products,” Fred explains. “We’ve actually started testing them out at Hogwarts recently.”

“Really, at Hogwarts? And you don’t get in trouble for it?”

“Well, I didn’t say that,” Fred wags his finger practically on my face. He walks to the case and opens it; a bunch of bottles, vials, and boxes of all kinds jump out all at once and set themselves in front of us like a magic exhibition. “But anyway, we mostly just want feedback. We’re planning to open our own joke shop after we graduate and we want everything to be right.”

“Huh,” I never would’ve guessed. When he mentioned their “inventions” I instantly assumed he was talking about crafts or something. I know Fred and George love to get under people’s skin with their little pranks, but I never thought that they loved pranking so much they wanted to build a living around it. But then again, we’ve never been close, so all I know about them is what I've seen back at the castle, which I also tend to avoid.  

As I go over the products in silence, my eyes get drawn to the sight of a small brown box. It doesn’t have a label or a logo or any eye-catching design, but it has COMB-A-CHAMELEON handwritten on it and that’s enough to get me intrigued. I look back at him, asking for his permission, and when he motions for me to go on with his hand, I grab it. Inside I can only find an ordinary-looking hairbrush, which throws me off because I was expecting something more, I don’t know, magical? I guess my confusion is clear because Fred laughs lightly while I just keep staring. “Would you like to try it out?” He asks.

I look up at him warily, looking for any signs of malice, but all I can find is a redheaded boy who seems excited by the idea of me using one of his products. “I don’t know if I should…”

“I can promise you that It’s nothing too bad.”

“You don’t strike me as trustworthy when it comes to these things.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Fred admits. “But I’m telling the truth this time, I promise. Go ahead, try it.”

I almost back down from it but I can’t help feeling bad just thinking about it. Fred looks like a kid who attempted to make breakfast by himself and is waiting for his mom to eat it. So I grab the brush and, hesitantly, I start combing my hair. A few brushes are enough to do the trick. Soon enough, I feel some tugging happening around my head. The process lasts a few seconds and then I feel the weight of my hair go down, but it feels lighter. Fred rubs his chin while he stares at me. I have no idea how I look but he nods in approval. “Alright,” He motions toward the mirror hanging from the door. “Go ahead and take a look.”

When I turn to look, I gasp. I expect my hair, which I had let fall down my back in curls earlier, to look like a bird’s nest by the time I’m done, but much to my surprise it is now pulled back into a nice long braid. “Fred,” I run my fingers through it.  “This is very impressive! And you guys came up with this from scratch?”

“Yup. Every single one of them.” He sounds proud of himself and his brother. And he should be.

“What else do you have?”

“Oh, tons of stuff,” He reaches and grabs another box, the same color but slightly bigger. This one says SKIVING SNACKBOX in big bold letters and when he opens it there's a ton of what looks like individually wrapped pieces of candy. Fred takes a single piece and removes the wrapping. One side is an orange color while the other one is purple. “This is our most tested product so far. When you eat the orange half of the candy you start to feel ill—nothing too bad, just enough to get you out of class—and then once you’re finally out, you take the purple half and you feel better again, ready to enjoy your free time. Brilliant, I know.”

“And you’re aware that this leaves a horrible example for younger generations, right?”

“Yeah, we hope so,” He rubs his palms together and it reminds me of a cheesy villainous moment. Then, he offers me the open candy in his hand. “Wanna try it out?”

I roll my eyes and push his hand away. “I can’t believe that you and your brother are throwing your talent away by making… these.”

“Wait, did I just hear a compliment in between all of that?” Fred leans close with a hand behind his ear, pretending to be bad at hearing.

My eyes roll for a second time because this boy just loves to make my eyes… nevermind. “All I’m saying is that maybe you should focus your attention on creating something more… useful?”

Fred pretends to look offended. “This is useful! Why spend so many hours in class when you can be using the time to do more important things, like playing games or sleeping?”

“Of course,” I say sarcastically. “It’s not like we need education or anything,” I then spot a bigger box, this one a bright pink color, and point to it. “What’s that?”

When he sees what I’m pointing at, he smirks at me. “Those are our WonderWitch products. They come in a variety; we have things like pimple vanishers to love potions.”

I quirk a brow. “Love potions?”

“The best love potions around,” He says, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he leans against his desk. “Although I don’t think you really need one.”

I nearly gape at him. “What do you mean?”

Fred shrugs. “I think Malfoy may already have the hots for you. I see the way he looks at you.”

“Excuse me?!” In what world does Draco Malfoy like me? And in what world would I ever reciprocate those same feelings?

“I’m joking,” Fred chuckles at my mortified expression. “But I’m sure there are guys at the school who are head over heels for you.”

I scoff. “I doubt it.”

He stares down at me, and I swear we’re standing closer to each other than before. “I wouldn’t.”

I blink a few times. I want to say something back but I do not know what. What do you even say to that? Luckily, Mrs. Weasley’s voice coming from downstairs, announcing that dinner is ready, fills in the blank space and I take the opportunity to close the subject. “We should go.”

We exit the twins’ bedroom but before we can head down the stairs, I halt my steps. “Wait,” I point to the other door. “You never told me whose room that is.”

Fred turns to look at it. “Oh,” Something flashes across his expression and I’m unsure what it is. “No one’s. Come on, Mom’s waiting.”

He keeps walking and, although I find his reaction odd, I follow him without saying anything else.

***

I have never been close to my family. Due to our differing ideals, my parents and I always end every single conversation with an argument, so we try to speak to each other as little as possible. My brother is kind of walking along the same path, unfortunately, and although he’s a bit more tolerable, a lot of times it still feels like I’m talking to a wall. Dinner, specifically, has always been a horrible time, because I get to sit there and listen to them complain about muggle-borns, support the Ministry and its lies, praise my brother for following their footsteps, and criticize me for never wanting to be like them.

With the Weasleys, it feels completely different. It feels nice and comfortable, and the topic of blood status is not brought up once. Their dynamic feels so natural and like how a true family should be. Mrs. Weasley scolds her children every five minutes but you can tell that she loves them more than anything else. She also likes to insist on me grabbing more servings, and if my stomach was bottomless I’d probably eat every single thing on the table. Mr. Weasley is fascinated by my knowledge of the muggle world and how it functions, although It’s mostly just things I’ve learned from Muggle Studies. Contrary to what I’ve always thought of her, Ginny is pretty cool. She and I share similar tastes and her impressions are hilarious and spot on. Ron is a bit awkward and is mostly just eating and talking to Harry Potter, who happens to be staying over for spring break, but now and then he asks me a question if he’s interested enough in what I’m saying. The twins get in trouble several times, one of them being when they decided to sneak a fake spider into Ron’s plate, which made him nearly faint. And although I’ve been acting like a total bitch to him for so long, Fred makes sure that I don’t feel left out, often trying to include me in the conversation or playfully teasing me in a way. But I find that I don’t mind it; It’s the most fun I’ve had in a while.

After we’re done with dinner, I am forced to decline Ginny’s offer to go flying for a bit because we still have to work on the potion, which I had almost forgotten about by the time Mrs. Weasley brought in dessert, but I tell her that we can try and get together another time to do so. Fred and I head directly back to his room so we can get it over with. I'm surprised to discover that Fred works really well as a team when he actually commits to it. “Can I ask you a question?” I ask him while I add and stir Powdered Moonstone into the cauldron.

He thinks about it but not for long. “Only if I can ask one back.”

Of course, there’s always a catch with him. “Okay, whatever,” I say defeatedly. “Whose room is the one across from yours?”

Fred sighs as his usual playful demeanor suddenly drops for a moment, but he tries to hide the fact that the question has any effect on him as he helps me slice Adder's Fork. “It’s Percy’s, my older brother,” He finally answers. “He kind of doesn’t live here anymore.”

“Did something happen?” I ask without thinking. And then I realize how nosy I sounded. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked, It’s none of my business—”

“No, I don’t mind,” He shakes his head. He’s being genuine. “You know about the whole thing happening with Harry and the Ministry of Magic, right?”

“About You-Know-Who coming back and the Ministry feeding lies to everyone because they’re cowards?”

Fred nods. “Pretty much. Well, Percy is siding with the Ministry because he's a git, and he and Dad had a very bad argument about it a few weeks ago. Then he just left and we haven’t heard from him since.”

“Oh, wow,” I say with wide eyes. “That must’ve been hard for all of you.”

“Especially for mom. She’s cried every single day after he left.” 

There’s a hint of sadness in his tone that I’ve never heard from him before and I can’t shake away the uncomfortable feeling I get from it. I guess I’ve never thought of Fred Weasley as someone who gets sad now and then, who maybe even cries when he’s upset, but at the end of the day, he’s still human just like me. “I’m so sorry.” I can’t help but say.

“You don’t have to be,” Fred says, giving me a reassuring smile. “But anyway, now It’s my turn,” His tone changes drastically back to its typical self. “Why didn’t you want me to visit your house? Because I saw how tense you got when I mentioned it.”

“Simple,” I slightly raise the heat on the cauldron after Fred drops the Adder’s Fork into the mixture. “My family is not very pleasant to be around with.”

“I guess I kind of figured. Are they…?”

“Blood supremacists? Yes,” I answer. “The worst kind possible. That’s why as soon as I graduate I want to find my own place and cut all ties with them immediately. They know I want to, and they don’t care, either.”

Fred remains silent for a moment while he adds the Jobberknoll Feathers. “I didn't know that.”

I shrug. “I guess I've grown used to it. I've had to put up with them my whole life, but I'm glad I'll soon have the chance to go my own way.”

“Another question,” He says, almost like he’s asking permission to do so, but he doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Are your parents Death Eaters?”

The question stings, and I consider lying for a quick moment, but I slowly nod.

Fred’s eyes grow big. “Bloody hell.”

“Yup,” I say. It’s a conversation I don’t want to have with anyone but he would’ve found out eventually. It’s a shock he didn't know about it already. “That's why people tend to have a bad image of me once they find out. It's bad enough that I'm in Slytherin, people already think I'm a delinquent just by that alone. And that’s why I rather just not talk about my family.”

The room goes quiet for a second while I stir the potion clockwise. Then, Fred says, “Well, congrats. You’ve actually made me feel bad.”

“What for?”

“Before getting to know you better, I didn't like you for the mere fact that I thought you were an uptight Slytherin, just because you seemed to dislike mine and George’s pranks,” He explains.

I chuckle, reminiscing about the ongoing war between both of our Houses and all the times Fred and George managed to piss us off. “Hey, I don’t hold it against you. You’re not the only one. Besides, I  didn’t like you either, so we’re even.”

Fred smirks. “Didn’t?”

“I guess you’re not… as bad as I thought,” I confess, avoiding his eyes.

“Huh,” He says. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.”

***

When I leave the Burrow, there’s a hollow feeling in my chest. As soon as I’m greeted by the cold presence of my parents back at the manor, I realize how long I’ve always longed for something like what I experienced tonight. In a single day the Weasleys made me feel like I'd been a part of their family forever, something my own family has yet to accomplish. 

The Easter break goes by way too slowly, and for me that’s not necessarily a good thing. I spend a lot of alone time at the manor, although sometimes I meet up with Daphne, and on the second to last day, I go back to the Burrow one more time because there is still one important step to complete in the brewing process, which is to get the potion to absorb moonlight on the night of the full moon. But we manage to do it without trouble, although, by the time I'm back at the manor, there is something deep down still troubling me. 

When we’re finally back at Hogwarts, Fred finds me to test out the potion the day before we have to show it in class, and we go all the way up to the Astronomy Tower. “Okay,” Fred says as soon as we are all settled in. “You got the good stuff?”

I grab my bag and take out the the vial of colorless liquid. It might as well be water, exactly as it should be. The two of us observe the Veritaserum with pride. I reach into the bag again and take out a glass dropper I’d borrowed from Daphne while he opens the vial. “So, who goes first?” Fred asks.

I purse my lips in thought. “What if we drink it at the same time and then we just take turns asking each other a question?”

“Nice. Rock paper scissors to see who gets to ask first?”

We tie for two rounds straight before he beats me with rock. I hand him the dropper and he squeezes some of the liquid into it. “Remember, three drops should be enough for it to work,” I remind him.

He nods. He passes the dropper back to me when he’s done and I take the three drops. There’s no smell and no taste, either, which is better than it being disgusting. I wait for something to happen, any indication that the serum has started taking effect, but I don’t feel any different. Fred seems to feel the same. “So… how do we know if It’s working?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Ask me a question, I guess.”

“Uhh… what’s your favorite color?”

“Seriously?” Fred holds his hands up in defense and I sigh and answer anyway. “Yellow.”

He raises a brow, eyeing me carefully. “Is that true?”

“It is.”

“Okay, then maybe It’s working! Now you ask me something.”

I try to think of something else, something that a guy like him usually lies about. “Did you do your homework during Spring break?”

“Absolutely not.”

“What were you doing in the meantime?”

“George and I were busy perfecting some of our products,” Fred answers. I don’t even have to question if It’s true. “Speaking of, who do you think is the cuter twin?”

“You, of course,” I say, and then I cover my mouth, but It’s too late. That’s far from what I wanted to say but I guess the serum really is working now. Fred is grinning from ear to ear without a care in the world, and he’s clearly enjoying this. Before he can say anything, I ask the first thing that comes to mind. “What do you really think about me?”

He blinks at me, taken aback, but he answers without stuttering. “Well, at first, I thought you were just another annoying, hateful Slytherin—cute, but hateful. But then I realized that you're probably the coolest girl I've ever met.”

Fred looks like he just got out of a trance and he doesn’t remember anything about the last few seconds. I smile in satisfaction. He thinks he has an advantage on this little “game” but he seems to forget that we’re both in it. I can pull a secret from him just as easily. “Interesting,” I comment. “You didn't mention thinking I was cute earlier.”

“Are you trying to start something here?” He asks.

I shake my head. “I think you started it a long time ago.”

“Okay, then,” He folds his arms across his chest. “Do you regret kissing me that night?”

I try to stop myself from talking but It’s useless. Don’t answer him. “No. I don’t think I ever did.”

Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up shut up!

“I knew it,” Fred says, stepping closer. My back makes contact with the nearest wall but neither of us pulls away. “I knew that wasn’t for nothing.”

I ignore the way his eyes move down to my lips. “Did you like it when I kissed you?”

“Yes. I still think about it to this day,” He confesses shamelessly. “If you don’t regret kissing me, does that mean that you have feelings for me?”

I have gotten to know more about Fred Weasley than I had ever imagined. I’ve been to his house, I’ve met his family, I’ve seen how he is outside of school… “I do,” I tell him, locking my gaze with his. “I like you.”

There’s a brief moment of silence in which the two of us just stare at each other, indulging in what I just said. Maybe I wasn’t thinking of confessing my feelings today but It’s out now. I could Obliviate him so he forgets any of this ever happened but I… I don’t want to. And I don’t think he wants either with the way he wraps an arm around my waist and connects his lips with mine.

With his free hand, Fred brings me as close to him as humanly possible and tangles it in my hair. This kiss feels so different than the first one; I was cold, wet, terrified, and not in a good state of mind when we kissed that night, and he was not expecting me to do that. But this time we’re both warm, needy, and desperate, and I’m tired of fighting it. I’m tired of fighting him. I want him. “Good,” Fred pulls away, his voice breathless, and my heart jumps. “Because I like you, too.”

I grab him by the tie and kiss him again, and he responds right away. He holds me like I’m the most precious thing to him, like he needs me more than anything, and it makes me want him even more. I tug at his hair and he groans softly, coaxing his tongue with mine as soon as I have access. We get so caught up in each other that I begin to forget where we are; my vision and all of my senses are invaded by a tall ginger boy who just couldn’t leave me alone in the first place. And I’m so glad he didn’t.

I pull away and Fred moves to kiss my cheek and then my jawline. My heart flutters in the best way. “How long have you liked me?” I ask him while I wrap my arms around his neck.

“I think I’ve been attracted to you for a long time but when you really had me in a chokehold was when you nearly succeeded in taking the Cup from us,” Fred says. There’s a small smirk tugging at his lips. “I was so impressed by you, and then when you kissed me…” He makes a gesture as if he’s been shot through the heart. I fail to hold back my laughter. “I’ve been hooked ever since.”

I bite my lip, playing with a strand of my hair. “Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Yes, actually, there is,” I initially expect a joke or a silly comment, but once again Fred Weasley manages to take me by surprise. “If you ever need a place to stay after you graduate, do not hesitate to tell me because I’m sure mom would love to have you staying over.”

My eyebrows raise and my eyes go wide. “What?”

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “I was just—you were talking about it the other day and I-I wanted you to have the option, you know, just in case…”

“Fred Weasley, are you messing with me?” I raise my fist, ready to hit his arm.

Fred grabs my wrist gently and lowers it out of sight. He’s still smiling down at me like he’s amused. “I swear that I will talk to my mom about it if you ever need me to. You can use Percy’s room or mine and George’s room if we move out.”

That’s the nicest thing anyone could ever do for me. I never thought anyone would; aside from Fred, Daphne is the only person who shows any concern over me. I know she would have no problem with me staying with her after graduation but I also know she’s leaving immediately after to live in Paris. My eyes well up with tears but I fight to keep them in. “That would be nice,” My voice is slightly shaky, but steady. “Thank you,”

A single tear escapes but Fred gently wipes it away. “You’re very welcome.”

He leans down to peck my lips. I grin in content. “Do you want to go get dinner?”

“Oh, you’re inviting me out to eat?” He wiggles his eyebrows and I hit his arm playfully. I fight back a smile.

We gather our things and head down to the Great Hall. Fred holds my hand the entire way. I must admit that it feels nice to not fight back my feelings and just enjoy my alone times with Fred, even if It's something as simple as moving from one place to another. When we're approaching the large doors, I feel Fred’s fingers abandoning mine. I look up at him and, once I see the look on his face, I realize why he does it: he thinks I don’t want to be seen with him. And, yes, maybe if Fred Weasley went to grab my hand a few weeks ago I would probably bite it off but if he doesn’t hold it now I will most definitely cry. When he’s about to turn his head, I reach to grab his hand, seeing and feeling him jump under my touch. He stares at our linked hands like he cannot believe what he’s seeing and—is that a blush tinting his cheeks? I crane my neck up and smile at him. After allowing myself to know him a little better, I’ve discovered that I love catching him off guard more than anything. It shows a whole different side of him, and It’s very attractive.

We open the giant doors to the Great Hall after Fred recovers and we walk in. A few heads turn in our direction; some of them don’t think anything interesting is going on so they go back to their plates, while others stare curiously. A few Gryffindors whisper while George and Lee Jordan smirk our way. The Slytherin table cannot help but be a bit more obvious, murmuring stuff to each other that I’m sure is nothing good and sneering at the both of us as Fred leans in close. “I think you’re getting banned from Slytherin, but don’t worry, I’m sure Gryffindor could take you in.”

I chuckle as I roll my eyes. “They’ll get over it. Anyway, I don’t care what they say. Talk to you later?”

“Of course,” Fred says.

I go to walk away but he grabs my chin and before I can ask him what he’s doing he leans down to plant a quick kiss on my lips. He walks away, leaving me standing there frozen for a moment, and before he reaches his spot on the Gryffindor table he turns his head and winks at me.  That bastard, I think as I shake my head. He did that on purpose!

When I finally reach my table I feel the daggers that my housemates are throwing at me piercing through my skull, but I focus on the beaming girl sitting across from me. I sigh as I grab my empty plate and begin serving myself. “Go on. Say whatever you have to say.”

“I told you!” She bursts. “I told you there was something there, and I told you that he liked you, and I certainly knew that you were just acting stupid. You liked him, too! You stupid, stupid bitch—”

“No insults, please.”

“But you are a stupid bitch, are you or are you not?”

“I can't say I'm not.”

“Staining the name of Slytherin yet again, (L/N)?” Draco calls from the other side of the table. “You shouldn’t even be carrying your family’s last name. It’s too big of an honor for a blood traitor like you.”

A few Slytherin laugh in agreement.  “Should she even be allowed to sit with us? I bet Weasley germs are spreading around our table already.” Pansy Parkinson grimaces.

“Well, the Parkinson germs have been spreading for years, haven’t they?” I snap back at her.

“Yeah, and no one’s said anything about it,” Daphne adds, shrugging innocently.

Pansy glares at the both of us but does not say anything else. When she turns back to her group, Daphne rolls her eyes. “The only con about all of this is that you have to put up with stuff like that.”

“That’s true,” I agree. “But I honestly don’t care.”

I turn to look at the Gryffindor table, and automatically my eyes find Fred’s figure. He’s already looking in my direction and when our eyes meet we smile. Okay, yes, I do like him. I like him a lot.

[wandsandwheezes]

NASCAR IV | G.W //F.W

WARNINGS // 8.6k // SMUT 18+, George x Reader // Fred x unnamed OC, Angry Fred, Racer!George, light angst, fighting, rough sex, soft sex, breeding kink af, mentions of alcohol, cars, sex, possession, praise kink, a (tiny) amount of degradation, oral, unprotected sex.

A/N // Ladies n gents we are back n better than everrr!! This has legit been sat in the WIPs for a year and I have not had the energy or motivation to get back to it until now. ps.. thank you to @darthwheezely for helping me out on this one as my co-writer, idk what i'd do without you!! pps.. stay tuned for more works in the future!

It was always good to be home. As much as George adored being on the road, there was something so blissful about waking up in his own bed, with the woman of his dreams curled tightly into his chest. This was what made it worth it. 

“Good morning, muffin,” you muttered peacefully, hand reaching up to push the messy tufts of hair from his sleepy eyes. He threw his head back and groaned at your use of the corny nickname so early in the morning.

“That divorce and sweet sweet alimony cannot come soon enough,” he grinned, soon getting whacked in the face by the pillow next to you, his own hand reaching to pull you by the scruff of your neck into a sloppy kiss. 

Like most mornings, George was already out of bed, walking around aimlessly in his low-slung plaid pj bottoms as he searched sleepily for either his shop uniform or at the very least something that would easily pass without Fred throwing a fit.

“Are you sure you want to leave me?” You teased, pushing yourself out of bed, letting his t-shirt fall past your hips as your feet patted along the wood floors, taking you to him. You wrap your arms around his waist groggily, forehead resting against his back as you take in his warmth.

“I’m never sure about leaving you, angel, I doubt you’ll take much convincing if I suggest lunch?”

“I’ll make your favourite sandwich and swing by later, yeah?” You smiled, giggling as he spun you around, strong hands holding your arms as he leaned down to kiss you.

“They say you’re the lucky one, but lord, woman you make me the luckiest.” 

The sun was not Fred’s friend today. But honestly: no one was Fred’s friend today, not when the sun was over a hundred and two degrees in a shop with shitty A/C with his wife away playing hostess for god knows how many interviewees in that pretty black dress.

He probably wouldn’t even be this angry if she hadn’t been an insufferable prime American tease, waking up to her lips wrapped around the base of his cock and sending delicious vibrations throughout his body before pulling off right as he was about to release:

“You’ve got work today, ace, I need you to be a good boy.”

So there was Fred, as horny as a fourteen year old, deprived as a fourteen year old, and about as pouty as a toddler. Even George knew how pissy his brother had been, eyeing him rather sharply. 

“You know, Freddie, It would be nice to come into work one day with you having not woken up on the wrong side of bed.” George chuckled, pulling up the bottom of his already oil-stained shirt to wipe at his jaw. The older twin stalked around him and hit him in the chest with his rag.

“Actually, I was sleeping quite well on my lovely and rosy smelling side of the bed until I got fucking booted like a small boy and-” he was briefly aware of George laughing at him and made to punch his younger brother over the hood. “- it’s not funny, you know...it’s…” he swallowed, the familiar feeling of his strawberry tint rising to the surface, “...ithasn’tbeenasrecentasyou and before you ask me how I know that, remember you’re the other half of my DNA in mum’s womb,” he childishly spat. He slid into the driver’s seat of the Mustang they were working on and began drumming the dash, his knee bouncing against the side door - a tell tale sign of his frustration.

“I thought we established that you are in fact half of my DNA, just because you were born first doesn’t mean shit.” George rolled his eyes, throwing the rag on top of the car before joining his brother in the passenger seat.

“No, because I, in fact, am the prettier twin, which means I not only had sex first, but also get more privileges such as Denny’s coupons, discounted smoothies, and more phone calls with my mother than you.” Spotting you walk into the workshop area he honked the horn a couple times and giggled, whistling when you walked in.

“Ahoy my lovely sister-in-law!” He grinned and honked once more, a loud and obnoxious greeting - so uniquely Fred.

Rolling up to the side of the car, you laughed, seeing George rub at his temples, sighing to himself over the continuous blaring horn. You leaned in against the window, poking your head into the car with a smile, pressing a kiss to George’s cheek while Fred’s smile dropped, his face forming into a stare of jealousy, quickly forcing a smile again to hide his obvious frustrations. 

“Oi! Get a bloody room you two!” He huffed, honking loudly when George leaned in to kiss you again.

“Do you mind?” George gritted out.

“Yes, a bit, actually, you may have the back office for now to do somewhat lovey and sinful things but please try to be discreet, kids!” He winked salaciously and leaned forward against the wheel, his elbow cocked on the dash as he fought to not think about destroying his wife to be the second she got home. Usually racing helped, kept his mind (and libido) wandering if he felt a bit pent up - but at least for a few months or so, there wouldn’t be any release. The thought alone had him throw his head back and groan in displeasure.

“I brought lunch, wanna eat with me?” You grinned, batting your eyelashes, a move that practically had George falling out of the car, grabbing your hand as he followed you out to the back office. It was definitely hotter in the back, if you were being honest, yet that had nothing to do with the blazing sunshine but the way your fiance could have practically drank you in whole by the way he was staring. 

“Stop staring, George, your eyes will go square.” You laughed, setting your bag on the table, pulling out the sandwich you had made for him, pushing it into his chest as you pulled out your own lunch. 

“You know that doesn’t work with staring at humans right? Just TVs.” George retorted, walking backwards before plopping himself down on the sofa. “You didn’t happen to bring my-” You had already reached into your bag, pulling out his water bottle, something he not only had a habit of leaving at home but something he nearly always drank with lunch. Props to him for staying hydrated but after so long together you had managed to pick up on nearly all of the smaller things about him. 

“What would I do without you, huh?” He smiled, taking the bottle from your hand as you slipped onto the sofa next to him, legs swinging over his thighs as you unwrapped your sandwich. This was normal for you, reminding you of the days before racing and before America, a part of you growing fond of those memories. 

“You seem lost, Angel.” He muttered, hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, a worried look painting his expression. Shaking your head at him, you pulled yourself up to be straddling his hips, your nose bumping against his softly before capturing his lips into a kiss. 

A part of both of you needed this, the locked lips while his hands held your hips in their place, effortlessly controlling the way they would rut against his growing bulge, both desperate for the friction. He was moaning into your mouth, his hips bucking up to meet yours as the innocence in the kiss quickly slipped away, his own desperation to have you ruling how his hands had practically ripped your shirt off of you, his lips messily pressed against the newly exposed skin of your chest. 

“Shit, baby, I just wanna get those tight little fucking shorts off of you.” He groaned, hand snaking up to tangle in the hair at the back of your head as your hips continued grinding relentlessly. You were ultimately putty in his hands, moldable and pliant only for his skilled grip and teasing touch. 

“No time for that though.” He chuckled, his quick fingers effortlessly slipping the material to the side before the pad of his thumb found your clit, rubbing in teasing circular motion, a loud and lewd groan falling from his lips at the feel of just how wet you were already. Your hand flew to his mouth, finger pressed against his plump lips to keep him silent.

“Not so much noise, Georgie.” You giggled, a faint moan falling from your lips as his fingers began to tease your entrance. Your own warnings of silence had fallen short the second you found yourself wrapped around his fingers, his long digits pulling desperate moans from you by the second.

“Not so much noise, angel.” 

—

The elder twin had watched his brother follow you out, had seen the way his twin’s eyes had smoothed over the curve of your ass, how he’d admired your shorts and in utter and complete disdain Fred kicked the inside of the car. It was dumb, the way he was wishing he could have his girl thrown in front of a bathroom counter and force her to watch him fuck that pretty pretty cunt of his, and unknowingly slid his hand down to his jeans and started to palm.

His jaw was clenched at the thought of her slutty little stunt she pulled this morning when they both knew how wet she would get when she had her mouth around him, and gritted in a groan as he squeezed his clothed erection.

“God, fuck, love,” he panted, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans half way to slide his boxers down, his cock springing free instantly. He thought about how her cunt fit perfectly to his cock, how no matter how many times he’d slipped deliciously into her, she always seemed just as tight as the first time, meanwhile his hand loosely pumped back and forth on his shaft. This was pathetic, he knew it was pathetic, but still the idea of her underneath him while her breasts heaved and her smokey chocolate hair was strewn about the pillow had him grunting.

“God, I’m so surprised you’re not pregnant yet, with the amount of cum I stuff you with and the rounds we do in a day,” he growled, all eleven inches sunk deep into her.

“Oh, shit, baby, god, you feel so good,” he panted, his thumb tightly rolling small circles on his tip. 

“Want it so bad, baby, wanna be so full and round soon as we can,” she had moaned, arching so far into his hold that he had thrusted at the same time a nipple brushed his lips and into his mouth, biting the sensitive flesh and causing her to whine.

“Such a fucking whore,” he snarled, his hips bucking up to meet each stroke of his fist, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he imagined his palm to be nothing but her - no, his - soft and soaked pussy. 

His hips were jerking at the speed of sound, he didn’t really care if anyone else could hear, if anything it made him more turned on, let ‘em hear, he could give less of a shit and especially if she were here, he’d make damn sure everyone from Houston to L.A. knew exactly which racer she was getting boned by each and every night.

“Freddie, honey, please, I need you to so bad,”

“I’m right behind you, baby, goddamnit so fucking good,” and with a faint shout of her name he released, his dick twitching under his own rough touch, his eyes screwed shut at his own frustration, none of it was real, the memory of it and the smell of sweaty sex in not only hotel rooms but in cars across the country dimming his mind back to square one. He laughed harshly at his own predicament, assessing his own situation before whistling lowly.

“Fuck, I need a drive.”

—

“George, for the love of God, stop fuckin’ with the carburetor, we already checked it an hour ago,” Fred whined, leaning against the back of the car. The day had been relatively slow beyond that one car, the hour approaching about 4:30, Fred eagerly awaiting until those hands hit 6.

“We did? I could have sworn we didn’t but I wouldn’t know, would I?” George rolled his eyes, pushing himself away from under the hood, heading over to you to take the tool you aimlessly held from your hands, not before his hands pressed against your neck, pulling you into a quick kiss.

Fred went to retort, interrupted only by the grizzly rotary of the engine rev close by. He knew exactly what the sound was, the same kind of rev that ecologists blamed on the hole in the ozone, the smell lewd and hungry for attention. 

It wasn’t just any old car, it had to be for racing. And sure enough it was, two in fact, fully souped up in high gear and brand new paint blinding in the Arizona sun. Fred held a hand above his eyebrows to see who it was, and George leaned back around Fred trying to do the same thing. When the cars pulled up and swerved albeit messily into the lot the twins broke into grins.

“Is that-?”

“-yeah, it’s-”

And then the car doors opened, one man rather lanky and lean and the other shorter and stocky, the rather lean one putting both his hands on his hips and clucking: “Well, I’ll be damned, freshen up then lads,” and grinned mischievously.

“DEAN!”

“SEAMUS!” They both yelled and jumped at their friends, a chorus of rowdy hugs and how are yous being traded from each of the boys.

“Alright then, boys?” Seamus quipped.

“Well, Jesus, we sure hope so, haven’t seen you since, shit what March?” George ran a hand through his hair, looking at Fred to confirm that and he nodded in response.

“Sounds about right, we’ve had to keep to ourselves - don’t want a bust like what happened to Diggory, y’know,” Seamus smirked.

“That arsehole from - shit what was his sponsor, Georgie?”

“Wonderbread,”

“Yeah, I never liked him, hits on everything that moves he does, my girl included,” Fred made his way to their mini-fridge swinging out a couple of bottled cane-sugar Coke (the only kind he and his wife ever drank, unfortunately for their bank account), and distributing them to each of the boys, passing around the bottle opener.

Dean scoffed. “Fred, you think everyone flirts with your girl and Y/N.”

“I’m a protective man, Thomas, not my fault I see a douche bag and-”

“Anyway,” George cut him off, leaving a rather pouty Fred in his place, and leaning back to sit on the hood of the car. “What brings you two ‘round then?”

Seamus and Dean visibly held their bottles a little tighter, then looked at each other.

“Well, we um...we have this thing we do on Thursdays down behind Tucson-” Seamus started.

“-not the raceway...it’s a bit more shifty, if you get it.” Dean finished, taking a swig of Coke. George studied the two for a second and finally leaned back on the car hood.

“Boys, what is this?” He asked softly, Fred shifting uncomfortably on the minifridge.

Seamus opened his mouth again, his face a great shade of crimson when Dean leapt in again.

“We do it in secret because if Indy or Nascar found out we’d all be dead but...we never really stopped racing you know. We just...we do it in the backwoods area of town-”

“Where it’s basically just sand and flat land for miles,” Seamus added, nodding vehemently. 

“Count me in.” Fred spoke quickly, pushing himself up off the mini fridge and over to the two boys, a smirk hanging off his lips in anticipation of being able to put his foot to the floor again on a track, albeit a dirt-road track, it was a course nevertheless.

“Yeah, no, Fred you can’t, if the Wood Brothers find out you are never racing again.” George cut in, fingers pressed to his temple in fear of his brother’s own recklessness.

“Come on, baby brother, I think you need to loosen up a little, what do you think, y/n?” Fred’s smirk only grew as he raised his eyebrow, hoping to entice the younger twin into his lure.

“You know, Georgie, I think it would be good for you and Fred to race together, you know, just for fun...” You shrugged, staking over to George, arms wrapping around his waist, as you looked up at him with a pout.

“I suppose if those two big brains can still have jobs, we’ll be fine, right?” George sighed, feeling himself giving in, purely from a look from his girlfriend.

“That’s the spirit!” Dean smirked, a smile cracking up on Seamus’ lips as the four boys looked among each other, almost silently communicating a plan until they had erupted with laughter.

—

The clock had said 9:34, roughly 26 minutes before Fred would be ecstatically waiting for George outside his studio apartment. His neck was tilted upwards, covered in shaving cream with a bath towel wrapped loosely around his waist. The sink was littered with expensive cologne and aftershave, the first purchase he ever made after his first check at the shop, his scalpel grifting smoothly up his jawline. 

Fred had learned very early on that preparation was absolutely everything, and after his little twelfth place charade - he felt his mates needed to remember that he was, for all intents and purposes, that bitch. 

“Fred, baby, you home?” He heard her call out, the clanging of keys falling into the empty fishbowl on the coffee table.

“Yeah, cupcake, I’m in here,” he called out stiffly, listening to her start to rant on about the interviews at hand - none of them were ever any fun, he’d been to enough to learn that all they cared about were raunchy questions geared at his wife and female reporters flirting with him in front of studio audiences. 

“...and god my feet were killing me, she wanted to walk with me all the way down the block and-“ she stopped analyzing his posture, his broad and freckled back still slightly covered in drops from the shower, his V-line angled to the side to a point where if she tugged on his hips juuuust right it would be sure to drop in one fell swoop, combined with the fact that he was shaving. 

“Honey?” 

“Yes, dear?” He side eyed her and smirked before turning his eyes back to the mirror, finishing the last of the area around his upper jaw and by his cheekbones.

“Are you going somewhere tonight?” She questioned, standing next to him now, looking at him directly through the mirror. He licked his lips at the sight of her minorly aggressive position and broke contact.

“Just for a bit, love, I’ll be back probably when you’re asleep.”

“And were you planning on telling me?”

“And were you planning on being a tease this morning after I gave you such a lovely time last night?”

He watched her mouth open and close as if she were about to say something and faltered, and snorted. “Yes, exactly, I thought so,” he said, turning around to grab a hand towel, splashing water on his face to rinse off the cream.

“Oh...I see what this is,” she purred. He stopped and slowly pulled his face up to the sink, setting a hand down on the sink to ground him from the massive hard on that was occurring under his towel, and turning towards her.

“What was that?” 

“I think you’re a pent up, horny teenager that doesn’t like being told no,” she smiled cruelly at him and watched as Fred’s jaw tensed ever so slightly. 

He rolled it gently and went to move past her but she was quicker, and pushed him backward with five painted red nails to his chest. She looked up at him and roughly scratched down his torso, causing Fred to hiss at the fresh red stripes. She slid a hand up his chest and stopped at the column of his throat, gripping ever so slightly, before leaning up to kiss him and pulling away just so he could feel her exhale.

“Have a nice night, Freddie,” she whispered before quirking a brow and grinning, prancing off to their bedroom alone.

When she was out of earshot he shakily breathed out, trying to steady his breathing and his yearning cock - he’d deal with her later for sure, regardless of his behavior or not.

It was 9:32, approximately 28 minutes before George would pick him up outside his studio apartment…

—

The twins arrived at around 10:15, the drive there filled with only uncomfortable silence at what was to come. George was a bit pissed to say the least, once again Fred was getting his way for an adrenaline run, and this time Y/N had backed him up.

George’s last place he would be right now is behind the wheel of his own fucking car.

He parked it next to Dean’s sleek, jet black chevy, his hands gripping the steering wheel ever so slightly as he leaned back against the headrest.

“You realize if we get caught we could never race again, right?” George prompted quietly.

“Here’s an idea; don’t.” Fred rolled his eyes, reaching over to flick his brother in the ear, eyebrows raised playfully.

“Yeah, no shit, sherlock.” George grumbled, turning off the ignition, listening to the signature growl of his engine grind to a stop. 

“Why is it always such a bad idea to do anything fun once in a while, Georgie,” Fred grumbled, his knee bouncing against the floor of the car. “It’s not like we’ve had anything to do as of late, you know.”

“Of course, besides, hmm, I dunno, not making our sponsors upset? By like possibly following the very slight and basic set of rules we’ve been given?” George snipped, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. He sighed to himself and went to get out of the car when Fred grabbed his arm.

“Hey, you agreed to this too, you know-”

“Yes, at the behest of my lovely fiance and my snot nosed, ant thorax of a barely older brother and as such, I’m driving this thing when this shit factory of a drag race starts.” He whacked Fred’s arm away and exited the car, immediately all but smiles on his face as he went to greet his friends, a sporadic and adrenaline heated Fred on his tail.

“Well if it isn’t the two most obnoxious bastards in NASCAR,” Fred turned to see his best friend and ex-pit crew member, Roger Davies, and excitedly gripped him in a hug, hands clapping backs and tears falling down cheeks at the renewal of friendship.

“Georgie! Look, it's Rog!”

“Holy shit, not my first husband-!”

“Your only husband, Weasley number 5, and Fred can disagree all he wants,” Roger grinned and pulled both boys into a hug before whispering in their ear, “watch out for Finnegan and Thomas, boys, the cheating hasn’t stopped since last season,” leaving the twins utterly confused.

“Oi! Not another sleepover without me?” Boomed Dean from behind them. Roger immediately pushed past the two entirely confused twins and went to clap Dean on the back.

“Just getting them acquainted with the rules before a race...you know how hard it is to follow all the rules, don’t you, mate?” Roger winked and headed back to the twins, moving them back to the car as all the other drivers retreated to theirs.

“Rog, what was all that?” Fred whispered.

“Dean has been known to be a bit...well, shifty as of late with these. Always been a bit of a windy bloke, you get it, but ever since Target dropped him from the sponsorship he hasn’t really been...getting off as much in racing as he used to.” Roger nervously laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, leaning against the back of George’s car.

“By ‘cheating’ what does that entail?” George crossed his arms in repose.

“He’s always been a thrill chaser, you know this, Georgie.”

That was true, Dean had always been after a nice high. An adrenaline junkie back at primary school, Dean and Fred (as George unfortunately remembered) would feed off each other like invasive flowers, the group think of two singularly aggressive and needy young boys clouding the canopy of their friends (and brothers) with misfortune. Anything from groundings to almost arrests to nights spent aimlessly wandering the London streets in the wee hours of the morning - to Dean’s favorite: bets.

Dean would bet and bet and bet if his life depended on it and when it came to racing, if there was a bet out in his name to win, he was sure as shit going to make sure that he was the winner, this led to more and more alterations to his cars, some that even street racing frowned upon. The media never got their hands on the true reason Dean had lost his Target sponsorship; just one simple, illegal, engine part. One that gave him the lead in a race that caught him out. 

“How hasn’t someone banned him then?” George laughed, looking over at his friends, only for Roger to clear his throat with a chuckle himself.

“You can’t ban someone from street racing, Georgie, not without the authority that NASCAR has.” Roger explained, pushing away from George’s car to head towards his own. “See you on the track, boys.” 

“Track?” Fred choked over the words, confused thoroughly at this point.

“I don’t think we’re in for just a drag race, Freddie.” George gulped, watching Roger slip inside his car, the lights flashing on and the sounds of rumbling engines echoing through the air. 

—

“What do you mean I can’t drive your car.” Fred practically whined, if his eyes rolled any harder they would be in the back of his head.

“I mean what I said, dumbass, you’re not driving my car.” George protested, his arms crossing over his chest as he stood protectively in front of the driver’s side door.

“But you’d let me drive it in a drag race, that doesn’t make any sense, like at all.” 

“That was when you had to drive in a straight line, you are not putting my baby in danger just to race her round a track.”

“Your baby? George, you do realise I race too right?” 

“Fuck off. You’re not driving, that’s final.”

“Yes the fuck I am, now move.” Fred was practically pushing his brother out of the way as he tried to get himself in the driver’s seat. “Twenty minutes ago you didn’t even want to be here, now you want to drive?”

“Fine.” George sighed, finally stepping aside, only to grab the back of Fred’s shirt. “One scratch and you’ll be fixing it, either that or I’ll break you.” 

“I’m not gonna crash the car, George, now get in.” Fred slid inside the car, George following suit on the passenger side. Fred went to pull out of the space that George had parked the car in, only to stall, dropping the clutch out of excitement, causing his younger brother to yell, out loud and quickly. 

“Nope! I’m not doing this.”

“Fucking hell, George, shut up I can drive.” 

—

There was something about the way tires kicked dust up as they sped around the dirt track that had Fred on edge. This race was unlike anything he’d ever seen or been a part of before, if he was being brutally honest it was exhilarating to be doing something like this, much more so when his brother was sat in the passenger seat. He didn’t need to look over or even take his eyes off the road to know that George was already being hypercritical of Fred’s driving skills, especially when the livelihood of his pride and joy of a car lay in another’s hands.

If George were gripping the steering wheel in that moment, his knuckles would have been well and truly white, watching clouds upon clouds of dust spray over the freshly washed exterior of his car. Instead, George’s hand was dripped tightly on the door, bracing himself for the sharp corners and bumpy jolts, thinking about how all the up and down was surely going to fuck his suspension. 

Fred laughed to himself, but mostly at the way his twin was acting, almost as if George hadn’t spent most of his adult life behind the wheel of a car driving faster than any other man would dream of. Fred shouted over the roar of the engine “Jesus, Georgie, let loose a little will you?”

“I’d be way less uptight if you would have just let me drive.” George replied, sighing to himself, a small ‘woah’ falling from his mouth at the feeling of the back wheels spinning.

“It’s a bit fucking late for that decision.” Fred laughed back, passing a car that had the unfortunate and untimely end of spinning themselves off the joke of a track. Once the dust parted and George saw the mess in front of him, his eyes widened, heart racing if it could have beaten any faster.

“I will kill you if you do that.” the younger man grumbled, watching Fred speed past car after car, pushing them up the ranks. 

“I told you I won’t crash your precious car… I’m starting to think you love her more than your lovely lady.” Fred bit his lower lip to stop himself laughing at his own comment. Looking up in the rear view mirror, he spotted the glistening black and bright blue of Roger and Dean gaining on the lead the twins had.

It was nearing what Fred hoped to be the end of the track, watching as the finish line grew nearer with every second. In what seemed to be all at once, a loud revving came in from Fred’s Left, The lightning bolt blue car overtaking George’ in a matter of seconds, pushing right past the finish line without a care in the world. Following closely in second was Dean’s beauty of a car, Fred managing to keep right behind his two friends, pulling third rank in the race. 

—

Fred was the first out of the car, slamming the door behind him as his rage was starting to bubble out from his lungs. George hurried to catch up with his older brother, the look in his eyes and his body language evident that nothing short of violent impulsivity would amount from the situation. Fred pushed past Roger, ignoring the pleas for peace, he was never mad at Rog, Rog deserved a top rank, but his anger was centered towards Dean.

Dean needed a nice loss.

“Oi, Thomas.” He got closer to the man, Dean turning around slowly, a haughty sense of pride glazed on his face. “What’s wrong, Freddie, I’d figured after your little twelfth place at the table third should be a nice welcome to you,” he drawled, before Fred lunged at him, getting held back only by Davies.

“Aw, does poor little Freddie still need a babysitter?”

“Open that mouth one more fucking time-”

“Fred-” Roger stuttered.

“No,” he pushed from his grasp and proceeded to get inches from Dean’s face

Dean smirked and leaned back to grab a beer from the cooler beside him. “Fred. Your little tough guy act doesn’t scare me anymore, you know that.”

George stepped up next to Fred, “It’s not an act, mate, I think you know us well enough by now to get that we don’t take kindly to cheaters,” he said softly, rising to his full height.

Dean immediately leaned back at the sight of the two gingers, and even going as far as shrinking at the pure sight of Roger Davies, not as tall but definitely as intimidating, standing between them.

“The track never did cater to a liar, Thomas, we figured you’d know that by now,” Roger added quietly. 

Dean scoffed, the adrenaline clearly rising in his chest, as the men behind him started to eye each other, the violence of the situation reaching a silent all time high. “I’m not gonna take shit from a losing tosser, his stooge of a younger brother, and a dumb blonde-“ 

Fred had launched himself all the way forward, his index and thumb forming a U shape as he grabbed Dean’s face, slamming it directly into the window. Dean struggled in Fred’s grasp, lifeless and sloppy fists flying in every direction possible. When Fred finally pulled off the boy and began to walk off, a smug and bloody smirk gracing his haughty face, Seamus lunged forward, a punch matching the back of Fred’s head. 

A full on fight occurred, George rushing forward to slam Seamus to the ground, dust flying in every which way under the artificial lights. Fred had taken to pummeling Dean as if he was losing himself entirely in aggression.

The twins had always had an aggressive streak - but it had rarely been released in their current younger years of “adulthood.” 

Amongst the mess of brawling fists and kicked up dirt, Roger had managed to summon the presence of one of the two Weasley girls - you, the understanding quick thinker with a tendency to be for whatever your boyfriend did and Fred’s Wife, the american firecracker who rarely took no for an answer.. When you had arrived, Rog and George were stopping Fred from lurching at Dean once more, Instead you were focused on the graze that lay above George’s brow, taking a deep breath and shaking your head at just how reckless he had become. 

“George Weasley, I swear to fucking god you bastard.” You shouted, pulling him up by his bicep and pushing him back against his dust-covered car. “One night I leave you, One night and you end up in a back street race nearly getting your ass handed to you by Dean fucking Thomas-”

“It was Seamus, actually-”

“Not the fucking point, George.” you slapped his chest, only for him to wrap his arms around your waist, keeping you pulled close, a small smirk hanging off his lips.

“Fred said I needed to let loose, and I did and it was the best fun I’ve had since the end of season… but that obviously isn’t what I should be saying… I’m sorry, really am.”

You rolled your eyes, a sigh falling from your lips as you rested your head on his chest, with all the stress that NASCAR had given him, it really was the best thing that he was getting some actual joy in his free time. “At least you had fun.”

-

You knew you couldn’t be mad at him for long, not with the puppy dog eyes he was giving you as he knelt down on the floor, elbows resting on the mattress to look at you. Part of him realised that he needed to not piss you off any more than he already had, after all it was a little more than what you were expecting from him and with so much on the line after all of his hard work you were more mad at the fact he would so easily chance it.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” He quipped, a small smile on his lips as he stretched his back out, leaning forward across the mattress, fingertips grazing over your knee.

“You know what you’re doing.” You sighed, trying to look away from him, only to feel his full firm grip squeeze at your thigh.

“I’m just trying to apologize to you.”

“Yeah right.”

“I know how much you gave up to be here with me, for us, for me to achieve my dreams and I only went and nearly threw it away for a cheap race and I’m sorry.” 

His eyes were glassy, filled with a sadness that you only recognised from the day he left for America, he truly was sorry for what had happened. 

“I want to make it up to you, princess.” He pushed himself up onto the bed, his head resting on the pillow, your eyes never leaving him as you watch him shift to get comfortable. 

Your hand reached out to brush the hair out of his eyes, watching his eyes flutter closed as a small sigh fell from his lips. You were quick to shift so that you lay next to him. 

“There’s nothing to make up for, Georgie.” You smiled softly, shifting slightly closer to him, feeling his hand drape lazily over your side. Something about seeing him so vulnerable made you want to protect him with your whole heart and yet he was always the one to protect you.

“There’s everything to make up for, my love.” He smirked, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours softly before pressing a small kiss to your lips. “Just let me make you feel good.”

“George you don’t–” You went to protest, but he was quick to cut you off with another kiss, this time his hand gently pulling your hips closer towards him.

“I know just the way to make things up to you.” He pushed himself up slowly, arm wrapping around you to lay you down on your back, finding his place between your thighs, your legs either side of his hips.

His hands slowly raked up your thighs, finding his way up to your hips, fingers hooking underneath the waistband to pull the material down your legs, leaving you bare from the waist down. You had almost forgotten how much of a tease George could be, the way his fingers had quickly found your clit, the long digits finding your entrance soon after, only to warm you up.

Positioning himself with your legs hooked over his shoulders, he drew in a breath, releasing the cool exhale over you as you sighed frustratedly, hips bucking to try and get some friction if any, only for his hand to push your hips back down, a chuckle falling from his lips.

The second his tongue was licking a prominent stripe along your aching pussy, you were well and truly putty in his hands. Each flick of his tongue had you squirming, unrestrained moans falling from your lips as the pleasure built.

It didn’t take him long to attach his lips to your clit, sucking relentlessly at the bundle of nerves, his fingers pushing knuckle deep into you, curling up to hit your favourite spot, having you a wordless mess of nothing but moans of his name.

“Such a pretty thing you are, baby.” He hummed, thumb coming up to circle over your clit as he watched the way you had thrown your head back, your hands finding his hair to pull him back down needily, earning a chuckle from him.

His tongue continued its work, pulling you closer and closer to release with every flick. He didn’t let up until your thighs were shaking and your chest heaving, mind clouded only with thoughts of him and how lucky you were.

—--

Fred Weasley got home all too late, the door closing a bit louder than the man had wanted behind him. The slightly elder Weasley crept from the doorway to the bedroom, careful to mind the light creaks in the hardwood floor, taking every ounce of stress on his feet to avoid any miscalculations. 

When he got to the bedroom, he saw the woman he loved, asleep no doubt by the sight of her mussed hair and lightly agape expression on her lips. Fred exhaled slowly, what he thought was quietly, until he heard her voice clearly say:

“So where were you?”

The man before her felt his heart thump harder than he felt when his own mother would corner him in the kitchen, the memories of sneaking out and sneaking back only to return with a-

“So are you going to tell me where you were?”

“Out.”

“No, really?” She spat, sitting back up and clicking the lamp on, her face etched with rage.

“I waited up for you the entire night, the least I probably deserve is an explanation.”

“Well, love, you didn’t seem to want to talk to me earlier, so I guess the lack of communication goes both ways, now move over.” he said briskly, beginning to take off his shirt. When she didn’t move, her face unwavering in anger, he rolled his jaw, swallowing back and refusing to feel the light effervescence of guilt in his throat.

“I said m-”

“I’m aware. See, Fred,” his wife exited the bed, and unfortunately for him, she was clad in only the black satin nightie he had gotten for her after his first big win. The guilt was rising now, as was something else low on his hips.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry, okay? I am, I-”

“Interrupt me again, and you get the couch, got it?” He nodded, his eyes drawn to the tears welling up in hers. “Fred, I’m your wife now and-and knowing my husband, my husband was out doing god knows what or who for that matter and has the audacity to come back in at three in the morning and be pissed at me? Who the hell are you?” 

“I was racing! I was racing alright, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry I-I came in late and made you pissed because I love you and I am never going to do this again but God can you please put something else on so I can focus correctly-” and then he was kissing her, and somewhere deep in his cerebral cortex, this was probably unbearably toxic, for him to start apologizing angrily for the shit that he put her through but-

“God, you are a piece of fucking work aren’t you?” She snarled, already beginning to unbuckle and unzip his pants. 

“But ‘m your piece of work, and currently,” he spat back, mouth melding in a messy and unkempt addition to hers, the entire situation wholly and completely Fred in every way possible, as he shed himself of his shirt and picked her up, “-I’d like to be fucking you.”

It didn’t take him long to pitch her body on the bed, his wife scrunching delectably at his fiery hair and his own ropy and iron hands squeezing at the bottom of her bare thighs. It had been long, too long, and with the already latent tension from their little bathroom incident earlier in the day - there wouldn’t be any denying Fred nor his girl of a quick, ravenous fuck tonight.

“Missed you so much, baby,” she whined, yanking his head up to mold herself to him in a heated kiss, the man atop her not needing to be shown twice at her action. “Missed you more, had me fuckin’ twitching and creaming in a car earlier, you did,” he chuckled, arousal thick and evident in his tone.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” He rasped, his eyes scrunching close as one of her delightfully un-dainty and gently calloused hands palmed him over his boxers. “God, wanted you so bad, baby, wanted to just drop the towel and have you on the sink, then ‘n there.”

“You mean that?” She said shakily, as he kissed her one last time before sliding down her body, his lengthy digits trailing down above him.

“God, absolutely, and if I look under here I wonder if - oh look at that, ‘was right, wasn’t I?” Much to her disagreeing whine, he sat up on his heels, his damn near naked body covered in sweat, his myriad of constellations adorning his chest like only the finest stars in the night sky. He looked up at her, the face only him or his twin could make, rum eyes bright and full of mischief, but also something else more sinister as his fingers trailed up her thighs.

“Fred, please-”

“‘Got you, baby, don’t you worry about me,” he mused, lazily almost, while his fingers drifted higher up the apex of her thigh before-

“No.” She said simply.

“Shit, I’m sorry do you want me to stop-?”

“No.” Fred’s wife, almost too fast for him to register, threw her left thigh around his waist, gathering momentum from her other leg fast enough to get him on his back, effectively pressing her hand to the center of his chest before all he could say was:

“Didn’t know you could do that, love,” he drawled, a quirk of a brow and a little smile on his face.

“You didn’t know I could do a lot of things, Freddie.” She shot back, bringing her nails up and in to scratch at his bare chest, her hips rolling to his and rubbing his tip under his boxers so well he thought he was going to explode.

“You have any plans beyond making me cum in m’pants, dear?” He hummed, his hands reaching up and under her satin to cup and squeeze at her bare ass.

“I was planning on making you cum so hard your ears pop, actually.”

“Merlin, woman, get on with it then,” he groaned, her laugh bubbling in his ears like champagne as her nails abandoned their spot on his broad chest to the hills and valleys of his v-line, the light grazing and nimble touch causing a wanton moan to erupt from the back of his throat along with a small, “fuckin’ hell, petal.” He watched with rapt but seemingly pained eyes as she slowly - too slowly, for his personal taste - began to lift her hips and grind the tip of his erection, his palms getting more clammy as he waited with need for her to sink onto him - if she’d even give him that.

But all too soon, she stopped her rolling onto his cock, making him swear at the loss of contact. “Goddamnit, fuck me already.”

“Oh, Freddie,” she preened, moving a hand back to cover one of his own sliding it to her soaking cunt, “after how bad you’ve been today? And you think I’m gonna reward you? Baby…” she drawled, reaching down to squeeze his thick cock, the action alone making him grunt and his neck veins pulsate with life.

“‘Do anything y’want, anything,” he whined, desperately trying to fuck his hips up to meet her friction. He knew his wife would push him, push him to the absolute limit until his dick exploded and his throat gave out from how hard he’d be screaming, she’d done it before, but it was so late, and God, he needed to bury himself deep in the milk and honey of her sex before it was too late.

“Then you have to be a good boy, Freddie, remember?”

“I know, I know, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, ma’am,” he babbled, the pleasure and lack of stimulation running through his veins. “Please,” he whimpered, his voice small and pliant like rubber.

She cocked a brow at him, curling her shiny red nails around his chin and gently tilting him toward hers. 

“Been so bad, baby boy, but I guess ‘m gonna have to give you a treat some time…you just look so delicious like this,'' she purred, moving her hands to the swell of his bulge, delighting in the whine that escaped his throat like the rush of water in a stream (or something a bit more sinful in its entirety.) Fred’s wife swiftly lifted his cock free from it’s confines, his hands coming immediately to steady at her hip bones and kneading greedy circles into the tough skeleton. 

“Ready f’me, precious?”

“Fred, don’t be pretending you’re the one on top at present,” 

“Good Lord, woman, stop the banter and rock already.” The two chuckled breathlessly at Fred’s words, his wife pressing an airy kiss to his red and puckered mouth before bringing her cunt to just barely graze his tip, a movement that had the ginger subjected to her ministrations roll his eyes back and murmur a throaty “fuck” against her lips. 

“Baby, please-“

“I know, Freddie, my love ‘ve got you,” she whispered before finally sinking down onto him, both partners releasing hisses and throaty moans at the feeling of being one.

It took no time at all for the ginger beneath to bring his hands to her now bouncing ass, guiding her roughly to every ridge of his cock. She was sloppy, the ride of pushing Fred’s high further and further to the forefront of his system. Fred oh the other hand had started to spastically fuck up into her now, moaning out her name the more he listened to the sound of her wet cunt being slid up and down on his thick cock. 

She was close, dangerously close, the feeling of his balls clapping against the bottom of her ass in time with her pants. Fred was in nirvana, the way the light graced the sides of her face making her look like the most fallen of angels when-

“Fred, I can’t, I, please”

“I know, bub, ‘m right there with you,” he coaxed, all too soft in contrast with the rampant fucking he was giving her, waiting until he could feel her about to soak his cock before flipping her over, almost too quickly throwing her legs around his waist and thrusting further than what he thought was possible. His hands gripped hers and somewhere in his mind he blacked out against the feeling of the black satin rubbing against his torso. 

“Baby-“

“Fred-“

Fred relished the feeling of her collapsing around him, his back fully extended as he rolled softly and slowly into her to push them through their conjoined high. He loved this, he always had, how her body heaved gently under his and his hands and mouth could whisper sweet nothings into her skin, soothing her form and giving her all the love he could possibly muster. 

“I am sorry you know, bub.” He finally said after a while, his hands rubbing back and forth on her thighs. 

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his nose and then his lips, smiling lightly against his mouth as her eyes fluttered shut, “yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Just…don’t do it again okay-?” She whispered.

“Baby, you know I won’t. Scout’s honor ‘n all-“

“You didn’t let me finish, Weasley!”

“Well, then what’s the rest of it?” 

She smiled at him before craning her lips to his ear: “next time you drag race, I better watch.”

She giggled when he threw the covers above their heads.

—

It was two days later, the sun blaring just as brightly as it had when Dean Thomas proposed a drag race, and now, as the front door bells jingled an entrance, the twins had done something they didn’t last time.

“We’re closed,” they both said flatly, not looking up from the respective cars.

“Even for me?” A familiar voice asked the boys, causing them both to raise their heads.

“Sirius!” They both squawked, the lanky men scrambling to their feet to hug their favorite agent, the older man hugging them back immediately.

“Why’ve you come from LA?”

“Yeah, is something wrong? I can guarantee you whatever it was it was 100% George’s fault-”

“Fred.”

“Sorry.”

Sirius released a small smile that had been tugging at his face the whole interaction. “Boys, I’ve got a bit of an announcement for you.”

“And what would that be?” George asked suspiciously. Fred looked out the corner of his eye at his twin, and all Sirius did was throw his hands out and up.

“Boys: we’re going to Monaco.”

[samanthastarss]

Im a loser and can't help that my exact romantic taste is that of tall ginger dorks 😞😮‍💨 so take this scrappy self-indulgent insert piece, lol 🧡

[shadowbriar]

Fred Gideon Weasley Masterlist

♤ Angst - ♡ Fluff - ✮ AU - ♛ Popular

One-shot

♤ Cherry: Inspired by Cherry by Harry Styles.  Fred thought that by distancing himself, he could do more protection than damage. What he didn’t know is that from this separation, she might have found another man to lean in to.

♡ Oblivious Weasley: "Why are you daft, Fred?" Overthinking and assumptions silently creates the wall that separate the two lovers. As one starts to turn and knock on another door, could they finally meet in the middle before it was too late?

♡♛ I Love you: Years of prank wars finally lead to unintended harm that makes one realise, enough is enough.  

♤ Bridges: In which Fred tries to spare himself the heartbreak from falling for someone he's supposed to love as a sister.  

♤  Stuck on the Puzzle: Inspired by Stuck on the Puzzle by Alex Turner. Having arrived late to the mansion after every attempt of stalling time, Fred finally gathered his last fragment of courage and joined the pre-wedding party, keeping in mind to drink every cocktail on sight so that he’ll be hammered enough tomorrow to skip the wedding.  

♤ Outgrown [Prompt Request]: “I’d ask but judging by the look on your eyes, I can already tell that you’ve closed our chapter.”      

♤♡ Selene and Helios [Prompt Request]: “It has always been you.”

♤♡ Pick Up Where We Left Off: One last Christmas with the Weasleys, would she find her closure from his sudden withdrawal years ago?  

♤ Mother: The fact that their relationship didn't work out was such a tragedy no one could have expected and Fred has no one else to blame but himself.

♡ Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve: The three times Fred Weasley should've professed his feelings and the one time he finally did.

♤ Clandestine Love: His unwillingness to come out of the shadows have finally caused him greater damage one couldn't possibly fix.

Series

♤ Fallen Potter [On-going]: The plan was beautifully designed. False information has also been carried to the Ministry of Magic in hope that the Death Eaters would buy it, giving them the window to transport Harry safely tonight. But just like the calm before storm, Fred has to let go his source of oxygen as one Potter falls.    Part I

[academic-vampire]

𝙶𝚛𝚢𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚛. 🦁

[gracexthoughts]

Of Violent Delights

Mattheo Riddle x Potter!OC

“These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume.” -William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

series masterlist

playlist | read on ao3 | intro

part 1; “Two households, both alike in dignity…From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.” -William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17

part 2; “I fear too early, for my mind misgives; Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars, Shall bitterly begin” -William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 |

[apparentlytheproblem]

s a f e a r m s

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- fred weasley

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

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

requested- yes

warnings- none i hope

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"are you planning on letting go freddie darling?"

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

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

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

[lordprettyflackotara]

sandman || fred weasley

smut 18+, minors dni

You lacked the capability to relax.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you’re not going to prank me?”

“Pfft, of course not,”

“Promise Weasley?”

“I promise,”

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

Merlin he needed a haircut.

“Yes this is the magic of relaxation,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“W-what Weasley?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fred what if I crush-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bend over for me, yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[rae-pottah]

omgomgomg ok we all know that fred teases and stuff all the time and it’s in every fic ever and a lot of the time he’s like mean (or.. in some cases.. well you know) but i’ve literally never seen him like that.. anyway all that to say can you please do a fic (no smut) where he’s just an absolute sweetie and absolutely so whipped for reader (but like not in a cringe way LMAO)

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: She/her pronouns, fluff, golden retriever!fred, established relationship

Summary: You have Fred trained well

----------------------------------------------

*Y/n's POV*

Soon it will be Christmas, and I will be going home with my boyfriend to meet his family for the first time. It's exciting and scary at the same time, but for now, we live like normal. I had just gotten to breakfast when I realized I was missing my potions text book, we had potions first. I let out a frustrated groan.

"What's wrong m'dear?" Fred asked worriedly

"Nothing, just left my text book in the common room, I'll have to eat quickly then go grab it" I breath out

"Ah, no love, I'll go get it! You eat, I've been down here for a while"

"Oh will you Fred?! Thank you m'love!" I kiss him on his cheek before sitting down tiredly. If I had turned around I would have seen his blush and the way he touched his cheek with a soft smile before he went to go get the book

"Whipped" I hear Ginny say under her breath, I look toward the girl with a smile

--meeting the family--

I had been anxious to meet his family, I don't know what they're like. That's why I brought a deck of muggle cards to maybe teach Mr. Weasley a couple games.

I obviously had already met, Percy, George, Ron and Ginny. But the others I had never met. The door gets thrown open

"OH! HOW WONDERFUL! Y/n, we've heard so much about you!" I get pulled into a hug from Mrs. Weasley.

"And I, you! It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Weasley" I suddenly felt calm in her embrace

"Oh please, please darling call me Molly" she starts "We've already started dinner, I hope you don't mind"

"Of course not! please lead the way" I follow her right in through the living room to the kitchen and table area "lovely home you have" I say as I looked around with wide eyes, adoring the wood, adoring the homeliness

"Oh thank you dear, such a sweetheart" she mumbles the last part, hand on her heart

"Oh! Dar-mling! Hw ar ya-" Fred says, while chewing his food, I simply tap my finger to my lips and he lets out a sound of recognition, he chews his food quickly (with his mouth shut), swallows and stands up

"Sorry about that love, How are you?" he asked kindly

"I'm great, darling" I look over to his family who, other than Percy, George, Ron and Ginny, looked shocked

"Bloody hell, that's a brilliant witch!" a tall, muscled, red head, with scars all over any area showing, approached me "I'm Charlie, Charlie Weasley, whatever you're doing, keep doing it."

"Haha, He's trained well" Molly approached with a huge hug

"You are my new daughter in-law, I will accept no one else"

"Oh-Pfft" I let out a giggle as I turn back to Fred, he looks toward the floor with a shy smile and light blush, I grab his hand and sit at the table with my new in-laws

As the night continued I had played 4 or 5 hands of poker with Mr. Weasley and Fred, who was sulking because we were going to play without him

--The common room--

"Darling, hand me that" I pointed at the book to the left of the chair I was on, that was on a stand nearly connected to the couch

"of course Love" he said quickly while playing with a fire cracker he found in one of their old trunks

"Thank you love"

Ginny looks at Ron who looks at George, they all then break into laughter

---------------------------

That's all I got folks

[dracoxsworld]

I literally loved the last Fred one so I want to request another thing with him hehe, could you please write Fred walking in on the reader masturbating to the thought of him, maybe before dating idk, anyways that’s it! Thank you if you do!! :)

Warnings: Masturbation obvi, vaginal sex, and nasty smut overall lol Minors DNI

A/N: Hi! Thank you for sending in the request, bestie! I love me some Freddy, too. <3 I hope this is good for you. :)

Caught. - Fred W. x Reader

You were alone in your dorm room, your moans echoing against your walls. Your fingers rubbing your clit in a circular motion, only you were imagining you weren't alone.

You were imagining you were with your long-time best friend, Fred Weasley. You and Fred had been friends ever since you could remember. You were friends with his twin, George too, but you and Fred had a special connection. Though, you were almost positive that this was a one sided emotion. You were in love with Fred.

You always had been. His red hair, freckled face, his big hands, charming and witty personality. He could always make you laugh, even if you were having the worst day. He always knew what to say to make you feel better.

So there you were. You had been horny all that day, your dream of him fucking you against your mattress, fingering you followed by you orgasming all over his fingers. His dick down your throat, or in your pussy, pumping in and out of you at a fast pace. It was all running through your mind.

"Freddy.." You moaned out. It sounded like porn, your perfect moans, the sound of your wet pussy. You imagined his head between your thighs, his tongue on your clit, hitting just the right spot.

A knot formed in your stomach at just the thought. The gripping of his red hair as he went down on you, licking up your orgasm like a sweet treat.

Before the relief of an orgasm could wash over you, your door opened. You, instead felt you felt your body go cold.

There he was, Fred Weasley in the doorway. "Oh my god, Fred, fuck." You say, quickly grabbing your blanket to cover yourself.

"Holy shit." Fred murmured. He was in awe.

"I am so sorry.. I- I didn't know you were coming over- I"

"Were you moaning my name, Y/N?" Fred asked, closing the door behind him.

You gulped, your face went even redder, you couldn't even look at him.

"I thought I heard you, when I was walking up to your dorm.." Fred said, smirking. "You know.., if you were, I'd be honored." He expressed. You looked up at him, still struggling to hold eye contact.

"Really..?" you stammered.

Fred nodded, and sat next to you on your bed. "So, tell me doll. Were you moaning my name? Hm?"

You nodded, covering your face with your comforter. Fred smiled at you, with the most ornery smile. He kicked off his shoes, and crawled up onto the bed with you.

"Were you imagining me doing things to you, doll?" He inquired.

"Freddy.." You groaned. Him just saying it made you bothered. You were on the edge, then then he came in; you couldn't finish.

"Why didn't you tell me? That you felt this way?"

"I just.. I didn't know if you'd feel the same way.." You trembled.

Fred chuckled. "Baby I've been waiting for you, for years now." He admitted. You gulped. "Did I stop you from finishing, baby girl?"

You nodded, squeezing your thighs together. You whined. "Would you like me to help you?" He asked, looking down, and slowly removing the comforter from your lower half. "Freddy... Please.." You begged.

"Well how could I say no to that?" Fred cooed.

Fred fully removed your comforter, looking at your middle, that had soaked a wet spot into your sheet. "Oh doll.. you're filthy.." Fred murmured. You moaned. You gripped his red hair, earning a groan from him. "Oh baby.. You've dreamed of this, haven't you?" You nodded in response. "Please.." you urged him.

"Okay baby, I'll finish for you, just relax.."

Fred positioned himself between your legs, trembling from the non-intentional edging. His tongue barley touched your clit, going in circular motions. You sighed loudly, pulling his hair tighter between your fingers. "You taste just as sweet as I had imagined." Fred said against your heat. "I've thought about this too, you're even more beautiful than you were in my dreams."

"Freddy.. I want you.."

"You want me what?" Fred asked, lifting his head above between your legs.

"In me... please." You pleaded him, tilting his chin up towards you.

"Whatever the princess wants." Fred allowed, unbuckling his belt, pulling his trousers down. You could see his bulge through his boxers, it looked large. You reached for it, palming him through his boxers slightly. Fred groaned, his hand snaking to behind your neck and gripping your hair.

"Merlin, you're going to be fun to destroy."

He gently took your hand away, then took off his boxers. He climbed onto bed with you again, kissing your neck, his hand trailing up your thighs, eventually wandering to in-between, caressing your folds, focusing on your clit.

You could see stars, he was biting and sucking on your neck, undoubtfully leaving marks. Your nails were running down his back.

"You're so stunning." Fred groaned into your neck. You felt his fingers leave your clit, you bucked your hips upwards, hoping for his fingers to touch you again. "Ah-ah. Behave." He said sternly. He positioned himself in between you, teasing your entrance with his dick, leaking with precum.

You couldn't believe this was happening. You thought you were dreaming. "Are you sure you're ready?" Fred asked. You nodded, adding a moan for reassurance. He nodded, pushing himself into you. Both of you moaned, you reached for him, and pulled him down close to you. Fred started kissing your neck again, occasionally going down to your collar bones while thrusting in and out of you. Starting off slow, and overtime, the longer it was, the faster he went.

"You belong to me now. Only me." Fred commanded, with his heaving breathing in your ear. You nodded in agreeance, moaning his name. "That's right. I'm making you feel this way."

"Freddy. I'm close." You sighed, your nails in his back, making crescent shaped marks in his skin. "Me too, cum for me baby..Come on" Fred allowed you.

Just like that, like clockwork, you both orgasmed. Both of you trembling, Fred pulled himself out, and laid on top of you.

“So.. this is a normal thing now?” Fred finely was able to breathe out.

“Yes, please” You replied.

[incorrectquotesharrypotterv]

Fred: Y/n, remember when you said you weren’t going to interfere with my love life?

Y/n: No, that doesn’t sound like me at all.

[fanfic-wonderland]

This Is War {Fred Weasley}

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Slytherin loses the Quidditch Cup to Gryffindor, (Y/N) decides to get back at them... and at Fred Weasley.

Word count: 5.3k

Read part two here.

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"Look at them," Draco glowers at the group of people flying around the other side above the pitch, moving to stand right across from us. All of them are wearing matching red and gold uniforms, a very distinctive contrast to our (better-looking) green and silver ones. "They think they have a chance against us just because Potter is their Seeker. If you ask me, I've seen Flobberworms moving around faster than him."

The rest of the team laughs. I have the sudden urge to point out the many times Harry's beaten Draco in the past, just to shut them up, but I choose to keep it to myself. After all, we're on the same team, even if I often don't agree with my teammates. Besides, I would never hear the end of it, and the last thing I'd want to do when I'm so close to graduating is to get in trouble with Lucius Malfoy because his son is a whiny baby.

I keep observing the opposite team. All of them have gathered around in their own little broom circle, listening to what one of the three girls is saying. I spot Harry Potter with his back facing us while Ron Weasley stands beside him, looking defeated already.

And standing next to him are his older identical twin brothers. The worst of them all, by far. Those two are just so hard to like. They're careless, and reckless, and love to waste their time coming up with useless little experiments. They specifically have taken quite a liking to pulling pranks on us Slytherins daily, and frankly, It's become very annoying.

Three nights ago, in fact, the Weasley twins and a few other Gryffindors took it too far when they decided to bombard our entire Common Room —and our dorms— with Dungbombs. And three nights later, we're still mad. How they managed to sneak past us and plant all those bombs remains a mystery, but one thing is for sure: they've declared war and we are not backing down. "I'd love nothing more than to see their faces when we win that Quidditch Cup," Adrian Pucey says next to me. "It'd be the perfect way to get back at them for their little prank last time."

The rest of us mutter in agreement. "Well, if we want to do that, then we have to play perfectly today. Considering It's the final game and all," I point out. "That means we can't let them score too many points or catch the Snitch. And that means you'll have to be extra quick today, Draco."

He shoots me a nasty look as if he's disgusted by the fact that I'm telling him what to do. "Thank you for sharing that with us, (Y/L/N)," Graham Montague adverts his attention from Gryffindor and turns to me, the same look on his face. "Unfortunately, I don't remember making you our Co-Captain, so you might want to keep any comments or useless observations to yourself."

I hear snickering behind me but I do not turn around. Being the only girl on the team definitely comes with its cons. Sexism, for example. "I'm certainly doing a better job than our current Captain," I mutter quietly while rolling my eyes.

Down at the pitch, Madam Hooch steps into the center of the field, next to a brown trunk, and blows her whistle, which is somehow heard over the loud cheering from the crowd. Both teams fly closer to each other. Gryffindor shoots daggers at us and, as I take a long look at all of them, I find one of the twins staring directly at me. They're identical but, because of their little 'history' of messing with me and my fellow classmates, I can tell them apart almost naturally. I don't know if that's a good thing or not.

I can tell immediately that it is Fred Weasley who is smiling mockingly at me and a wave of rage runs through me.

Of course, It's Fred. I've discovered throughout the years that, even though both twins are bad enough on their own, Fred is by far the worst of the pair. While George can sometimes know when to stop, Fred does not care nearly as much about crossing the line. I glare at him, hard enough to get him to look away first, but his smile only grows bigger and he winks at me. I finally break eye contact, but only because I want all of my focus to be on the game and not wasted on someone so immature as him.

Once everyone is set, Madam Hooch opens up the trunk and the two Bludgers shoot into the sky, quickly followed by the Golden Snitch. Then, as soon as the Quaffle finally shoots free, the game starts.

It feels like a long match, like an endless cat-and-mouse game as both teams try and catch up to each other. For the longest time, It's a close call between scores, which makes all players —and the public— tense. Lee Jordan's commentary is all over the place throughout the game; one minute, he's excited when Gryffindor is in the lead, and then the next one he's accusing Slytherin of cheating when we take it (which most of the time ends up being true, but I look past it). Despite this, we put up a fairly good fight, and for the first time in so long, it feels like the Quidditch Cup is finally ours.

Unfortunately, we don't put up a good enough fight.

I'm too busy avoiding Bludgers and trying to take the Quaffle away from the opposite team that I nearly jump from my broom when I hear the whistle blowing again. Confused, I halt my flight and look around. I quickly spot Draco in the distance, running a hand through his hair in frustration, and I immediately know what happened.

Harry caught the Snitch. Again.

"Gryffindor wins!" Madam Hooch announces.

A loud wave of cheers erupts from the Gryffindors in the crowd, hugging each other and jumping excitedly at their victory. I groan as the rest of the opposite team lands back on the ground to go and congratulate Harry for the catch. I watch as they smile and pump fists into the air, and I shake my head in disappointment. I really thought we were going to win this time. "Well, I guess we're still the best team, huh?" A voice says and I turn to look at the person.

Fred is the only Gryffindor still mounting a broom, and he doesn't seem to be in any rush to join his teammates. He leans back effortlessly as if he's lying on a couch, with his hands behind his head. I scowl at him. "Shouldn't you be down there celebrating your victory, then, instead of bothering me?"

He shrugs. "I'd much rather be here, watching your defeat from up close."

My nostrils flare and if I had my wand I'd hex him here and there. "Aww, but don't worry," He fake pouts. "There'll be plenty of opportunities to try and win in the next few years. Too bad you won't be here to see it."

He finally flies away with that stupid smug look on his face and it takes everything in me not to throw a Bludger at his head. I try to ignore the fact that his words struck a nerve because he's right. This was my last chance to help win the Quidditch Cup for Slytherin and now It's gone. I missed it.

Shaking the thoughts away, I go to join my sulking teammates, who are all gathering around Draco. "I almost had it. I even touched it with the tip of my fingers," He's saying when I arrive. I have a feeling that that is not at all true. "But then Potter had to come in and ruin everything. I bet that broom of his was charmed with super speed or something."

No one says anything about it. I know they're upset about losing but they would never dare blame Draco for it. "We were so close, though," says Cassius Warrington in a frustrated tone.

"Yeah, and now we've got to think of another way to get back at them," Adrian adds.

As I watch the other team still celebrating, a light bulb turns on above my head. "Don't worry, guys," I reassure them. My wicked smile brings them a sort of comfort. "I think I have a plan to get them back."

***

"Okay, but why do I have to get dragged into this?" Daphne Greengrass, my puzzled best friend, asks as we step out of our dorm and into the dark hallway. "I don't have any beef with Gryffindor, that's your thing."

"Right, but, aside from myself, you're the only person that I trust to do this job," I tell her, quickening my steps down the stairs. "And you're way more tolerable than the others."

"Gee, thanks for that,"

"Plus, the Slytherin team is around the castle keeping watch of any Professors or Prefects or Filch," I add. "And Draco and Blaise have to get the two Gryffindor girls, so we're stuck with the most important task, and we have to do it right."

"Because of course, we are," Daphne rolls her eyes.

"Did you bring the secret ingredients?"

She reaches into her bag and takes out two clear bottles, one with a dark purple liquid in it and the other one with something that almost looks like mud. I smile delightedly. "You have no idea how happy I am that you just happened to have Sleeping Draught and Polyjuice Potion lying around the dorm."

"That's funny because back then, I remember you said that me brewing potions for fun was 'a bit pointless if you have to wait so long to brew them'" Daphne recalls.

I clear my throat uncomfortably. "I do apologize for that. I will never doubt you again."

The plan is simple.

Gryffindor is currently having a party to celebrate their victory at their Common Room. Draco and Blaise Zabini have written a letter addressed to Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, probably the easiest targets we could get, asking them to meet Michael Corner and Cormac McLaggen at the Courtyard. Pansy Parkinson will charm said letter to fly to the girls; once they get it, Draco and Blaise will put them to sleep, take a strand of hair from each of them, and bring it back to us. We mix the hair with our potion servings, drink the potion, and once we transform we sneak into the Common Room and add a (lot) bit of Sleeping Draught into the drinks. When we've made sure that everyone in the room fell into a deep slumber, we take the Quidditch Cup from them and they'll wake up in the morning with no idea of what happened. It'll look like everyone was just blackout drunk and they lost the Cup because of their irresponsibility.

It's a great plan if you ask me.

"I do have a question, though," Daphne stops walking once we make it to our own Common Room. "Don't we need the password to get into their Common Room?"

I grin and reach into my pocket, holding out a piece of paper in front of her. 'Mimbulus mimbletonia', it reads. "I stole it from that Longbottom kid in Transfiguration earlier," I say. "At first, I figured we'd rely on luck and wait until someone came around to help us, but it was much easier to just take the password from him. Plus, it saves us time."

"Huh," Daphne takes a seat on the nearest chair and folds her arms, impressed. "Good thinking. So, when are Draco and Blaise coming?"

"I'd say they should be here—"

Before I finish my sentence, and as if they've heard us talking about them, the Common Room door opens and both boys walk toward us with triumphant looks on their faces. Draco holds up the small pouch in his hand. "We got them."

"Oh, good," I sigh in relief as they hold out their pouches to us. I take the one in Draco's hand and Daphne takes the other one. I open mine up and a few long dark hairs come out. I can immediately tell that it is Parvati's. "Good job, guys. Daphne?"

She takes out two cups from her bag and hands one to me. Once I take it, she pours the muddy liquid into mine and then onto hers. I glance down at my cup, grimacing when I notice It's bubbling in the most disgusting way. I turn back at Daphne before I can start feeling nauseous. "Ready?"

She gulps, also eyeing her potion, then gives a slow nod.

We each throw our hair into the liquid, which completely consumes it until it is not visible anymore. A few moments pass and my potion begins to shift colors. The muddy brown is completely gone, replaced by a shocking pink that nearly blinds me. I look up at Daphne's portion and hers has turned into... well, lavender. "You don't happen to have an idea of how much these will last, do you?" I ask her.

Daphne smiles weakly. "One can never really tell, am I right?" She raises her glass in front of me. "Bottoms up!"

We both chug down our potion at once. Mine tastes... okay. I don't know why I expected it to taste like shit but It's sweet, although not overpowering. Daphne's doesn't seem to taste too bad, either, seeing as she drinks it with ease.

The bad part comes right after.

I've never consumed Polyjuice Potion before this so I'm not sure exactly what to expect, but I've heard the transformation process is extremely unpleasant so I'm not expecting something good. Once it finally starts, I let go of my cup and I'm crouching on the floor in less than 10 seconds. My insides feel like they're twisting and turning into irreparable knots, and my skin feels like It's burning. I hear Daphne moaning in pain but I don't look up at her. My eyes are glued to the bubbles forming in my hands and arms. I nearly begin to panic but I try to remain calm as my skin begins to darken, my fingers shrinking a bit and turning slightly thinner. A long dark hood begins to take over my vision while I'm still crouched, and it takes me a moment to realize that It's just my hair, which doesn't seem to stop growing. My robes suddenly begin to feel lighter than usual as my body takes the shape of Parvati. The pain stops as suddenly as it started and it leaves me trying to catch my breath. I try to stand up straight again, catching sight of Draco and Blaise's faces first. Both of them look like they've seen a ghost for a moment before their expressions shift into amusement. "Whoa," Blaise mutters. "That was terrifying to watch. But you guys look exactly like them."

I don't say anything as I turn to find Daphne again, but I'm met with Lavender Brown staring at me with wide eyes instead. We both gasp, frozen in our spots. To anyone else, she wouldn't look any different than the real Lavender, but I still find a bit of Daphne in the way she stares at me. "Oh Merlin," she tilts her head. "This is terrifying."

"Tell me about it," I agree while I take one last look at my hands. I grab my hair; It's so long that I have no idea what to do with it. I've never had it this long so it does sort of feel heavy.

"Yes, yes, It's all very impressive," Draco says in a dismissive manner. "But we still have other important things to do."

Even though I hate that he has to be such an asshole all the time, he's right. We cannot lose sight of what's important.

So, Daphne and I go to change clothes and then head to the Gryffindor Tower. It feels like a marathon but we finally stop in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. She eyes us carefully and for a moment I begin to think that she's onto us. I try not to look suspicious and I can sense Daphne doing the same next to me. "Password?"

"Mimbulus mimbletonia." I say without stuttering, trying to seem casual and like It's not my first time sneaking into Gryffindor's Common Room.

She nods and the portrait slowly opens. I almost let out a sigh of relief as we walk in but I'm stopped by the sight of the Common Room. I've never been here before but It's hard to take it all in when there are so many students in it at the same time. Nonetheless, I can tell that It's so much different than Slytherin's Common Room, and not in a good way.

"Okay," Daphne says, but It's barely audible through the loud music playing. "We're here now, there's no turning back. Do you see the drinks anywhere?"

I scan the room a bit longer. I spot the music box in a corner, next to a couple making out against the wall; I spot the Quidditch Cup exhibited on a clear shelf, next to Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley who are talking on the other side of the room; and I do see many people holding cups, which means that we'll probably have to go around slipping Sleeping Draught in all of them.

I finally catch a glimpse of a long table with different kinds of snacks and—

"I see something!" I tell her excitedly and I point to the table, where there are also two huge bowls filled with red and gold liquid, probably charmed to look that way.

Daphne smiles in satisfaction. "Let's get started, shall we?"

"Wait," I stop her. "I think we have to split up."

"Huh?"

"There are people drinking already so maybe you could try and slip some Draught in their drinks while I try to slip it into the bowls first?" I suggest.

She nods. "Right. I'll start on the left side of the room, then."

We divide the potion and part ways, and I start making my way through the crowd until I can't see her anymore. A few people say hi to me and, even though I don't know much about Parvati Patil, I try to act how I've seen her act— bright, outgoing, and a little bit annoying. Luckily, though, no one stops to make conversation so I make an easy escape until I finally reach the table.

I take out the cup that Daphne gave me and I discreetly begin to pour the purple liquid into the cup. Fortunately, it does not change colors. "I see what you're doing," a voice says from behind me and I almost drop the cup.

I turn around, trying to act normal, and then I see that the person talking is none other than Fred Weasley. Out of all people. "What?"

He grins. "You're spiking the punch even more, aren't you? I didn't know you were such a party animal, Parvati."

I almost forget that I look like a whole different person right now. I chuckle and raise my arms. "You're right. You caught me."

"Well, don't let me stop you. Go on ahead. It'll definitely make things a lot more fun around here." Fred winks at me before he walks away and I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding.

Aside from that small incident, I don't bump into anyone else. Everyone's already too drunk out of their minds to notice me. It makes it easier for me to slip more Sleeping Draught into people's drinks, and I keep doing it until I find Daphne again and we're certain that we've got everyone. "And now we just wait."

***

It doesn't take long for everyone but Daphne and I to start collapsing from sleep. In fact, it happens very quickly.

Daphne and I are giggling like maniacs as we tiptoe around until we're in front of the silver Quidditch Cup, admiring its beauty for a moment. "I can't believe we actually pulled this off," Daphne says under her breath, her eyes glowing. "We're so cool."

"Told you we could do it," I nudge her side. "Now for the final act..."

I take it in my hands. It feels heavier than I expected but it feels so good to hold it. "What a beauty," I keep admiring it until I'm brought back to my senses. "Okay, now let's get out of here."

We finally make it out of the Common Room and it feels like we've been liberated. Our surroundings begin to feel familiar again. "I'll go let the others know that we have the Cup," Daphne announces excitedly.

"Good idea," I tell her. "I'll go take this to the dungeons."

She nods and we part ways once again. I try to hide the Cup in my bag as much as I can but It's so big that the top part still sticks out, but it will have to do.

If the path to the Gryffindor Tower felt long, this time it feels eternal, especially when the tension of being caught follows me around. I have to be extra careful this time; if anyone sees me I'll get in huge trouble and I don't even want to begin thinking about that. So I have to sneak around and be very aware of my surroundings if I want this to go as planned. It's all up to me now.

When I'm finally sure that I'm outside of the public eye, I turn a corner and let out a shriek as I almost come face-to-face with a tall figure. And of course, It's Fred Weasley again.

Wait...

"H-hey, Fred!" I smile brightly at him. Maybe it comes off a bit too forced but oh well. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to check up on you and Lavender, since you guys left in such a hurry," His eyes find my bag and my stomach drops. "What are you doing with the Quidditch Cup?"

"I'm..." I try to think fast but without looking suspicious, and then I realize that I'm most certainly failing at it. "I was just on my way to polish it! And then I was going to bring it back later."

"Were you?" Fred raises an eyebrow and steps closer.

I nod. "Of course! What, you think I'm stealing it or something?"

He's practically hovering over me now and I have to crane my neck to look up at him. He extends a hand out to me. "Why don't you let me help you, then?"

"I'm sure you're probably busy—"

"I have nothing on my schedule right now." He cuts me off. His gaze makes me feel like a criminal. "I'd love to help out."

I shrug. "It shouldn't be too much work, I can do it on my own, really—"

Suddenly, my back is pressed against the stone wall and I'm caged in between both of his arms. I yelp in surprise. Fred's face is awfully close to mine and he's staring at me as if he's trying to figure out my identity. My true identity. "You're not the real Parvati, are you?"

I swallow hard and do the first thing that comes to mind: I take out my wand from my back pocket and point it at him. "Flipendo!"

A yellow light surges out of the tip of my wand and knocks Fred back and away from me. As soon as his back meets the ground I make a run for it.

I have no idea where I'm heading, my vision is far too clouded right now, but I do not look back and I do not stop running. I've forgotten all about being discreet and I've stopped worrying about getting caught by someone else. I'm already in enough trouble as it is.

My feet guide me outside of the castle, and I know that if anyone finds out I'll get detention for at least 2 months, but I don't care as I keep moving. My stomach begins to turn in that weird way again all of a sudden. "Oh no, please, not now," I beg.

Despite the uncomfortable feeling, I'm still running until I reach the dock at the Great Lake. It's barely visible and the water is so dark that it looks like a huge void, but at least no one can see me here. The pain continues for a few moments, and when it finally stops I look at my hands. They look like my hands again. I reach to touch my hair and realize It's not nearly as long anymore. Even if it didn't last long, it feels good to be back to my old self.

"There you are,"

Crap.

I turn slowly to look at Fred, who apparently does not know to mind his own bloody business. His eyes widen in surprise once he sees me but then he shakes his head and smirks. "Well, hello there. I never thought that, out of all people, you would try and pull off something like this," I remain quiet. "I believe you have something that belongs to us." He takes a step closer.

I pretend to ponder. "No, I don't think I do. I think you have the wrong person."

"Oh, silly me, right? I thought you looked different back there," He says then takes out his own wand. "Accio Quidditch Cup!"

The Cup suddenly flies out of the bag, all the way into Fred's hands.

"Give it to me," I run towards him and try to yank the cup from his hands. Unfortunately for me, his grip is way stronger than mine. He raises it above his head, which, given our very distinctive height difference, is impossible for me to reach. I jump while extending my arm as high as possible, but It's useless. He's still looking down at me like I'm an annoying toddler wanting to get his attention. "Weasley!"

"Sorry," He shrugs. "Finder's keepers."

Grumbling curses at him under my breath, I reach for my wand and point it at the cup, using the same Summoning Charm as him. As soon as the cup is back in my hands, I run for it. I hear Fred shouting my name behind me, but I don't turn back. I'm laughing like a maniac as I run to the opposite side when I'm suddenly stopped in my tracks. For a second, I cannot move. It's like an invisible force is restricting my entire body. And then I'm yanked back by said force until I'm back in my previous spot, right in front of Fred. He snatches the cup from me and grins. "Thank you, kind lady. Oh, and I'll be taking this, too."

He snatches my wand from my hand and begins to run away. My first instinct is to jump on his back, ignoring his protests as I try to reach for my wand first. He manages to shake me off before I can do so, but I don't give up. I'm still trying to reach for him, for anything, but between all that wrestling, I slip from the dock and fall into the freezing water. When I emerge, my whole body is shivering and my teeth are chattering uncontrollably. I look back at the dock and Fred is still standing there, his mouth open as he stares at me in shock. And then he bursts out laughing. "You'll p-pay for this!" I shout at him but he just keeps laughing.

I hear something behind me— it almost sounds like a waterfall. But as I turn around I don't see anything of the sort.

Instead, I see a tentacle. A huge tentacle coming at me from the water.

The color drains from my face, I'm sure, and I let out a loud scream. I scream so loud that I don't hear anything else. I think Fred is shouting something, and I'm not sure if It's at me or at the giant squid, but I don't find out. I shut my eyes close but my body is frozen in place. I can't move. It might be the fear, it might be the cold, it might even be both, but I can't move a muscle.

What a terrible way to die this is.

"(Y/N)," Fred calls from the dock but I can barely hear him. My heartbeats are too fast and too loud. "It's okay, It's gone! Just swim back to shore."

I'm too busy hyperventilating to listen to him. I was just face-to-face with a giant squid— a bloody giant squid. My mind is not processing anything at the moment and all I can feel is panic, still.

I hear a splash of water nearby and a pair of arms suddenly sneak around me below the water. A small gasp escapes my lips as Fred's face appears right of mine. As if by instinct, I wrap my arms around his neck. It's the closest we've ever been. "Look at me," he says but I don't need him to. I'm already getting lost in the soothingness of his eyes. "You're okay. Nothing or no one will hurt you as long as I'm here, okay?"

I nod wordlessly. I'm still shaking uncontrollably and I probably look like a mess right now. "I'm going to get us back to shore now," He informs carefully. "Is that okay with you?"

"Y-yes, please."

As soon as I give him the green light, he picks me up bridal style and begins to swim back to shore.

We get to land safe and sound, just as he had promised. I feel a huge sense of relief the moment my feet touch land, but my arms do not let go of him and his hands are still on my waist. When I turn to face him, he's already looking down at me. "See?" he says with a chuckle. His voice is soft and comforting. "It's all good now. You have nothing to worry about."

For a moment, I seem to forget that the boy standing in front of me is the boy that I've hated for all these years. I forget all the pranks he pulled on me and my housemates, all the times he enraged and mocked me. I forget about all of that and I don't know what comes over me but I lean up and I kiss him.

I can tell that Fred is surprised by how he freezes as soon as our lips touch, but once he composes himself, he responds. He pulls me closer and tightens his grip around me, which is probably the moment that I start losing my grip on reality. A wave of warmth washes through me and it feels... nice. Especially after going out for a midnight swim. His lips feel soft against mine and It's nearly impossible to stay away from them. My hands grip his hair and he lets out a low grunt against my mouth. The sound is sinful. It makes me want more of him.

We pull away after a while, though, and none of us say anything. My eyes flutter open almost at the same time as his, and for a moment It's like a sort of dream where nothing is real.

But of course, he has to ruin it.

"Wow," Fred's dazed smile widens. "What a nice way to say 'Thank you for saving my life'."

I blink a few times and it takes a moment to snap out of my trance, and when I do I am mortified. When I finally come to all my senses, I unwrap my arms from his neck and push him away. As soon as he lets go, I start to look for my wand. I finally find it lying next to the Cup but I don't even bother to grab that. It was a mistake to even try and steal it. It has already caused way too much unnecessary drama.

Plus, I just kissed Fred fucking Weasley.

My clothes are sticking to my skin and I'm still dripping from head to toe, which just adds to my distress, but I don't let it stop me as I run back to the castle. I hear Fred calling after me but I don't turn to look back at him. I am way too embarrassed and frustrated at myself to do so.