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thursdaygxrls · 1 year

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Seeing Her

summary - george might (maybe) have a small crush.

pairing - george weasley x fem!bookworm!reader

disclaimer - i don't own any harry potter property. this is unedited because i wasn't in the mood. i don’t own the gif fr.

warnings - just fluff. maybe a little ooc??

He never gave much thought to how full his mind had grown of her until McGonagall struck her desk with her palms. That noise - the searing slap of flesh meeting oak - knocked a sudden realization into the bubbling pot of his mind.

"I do hope you boys are satisfied with yourselves," the older woman chastised through permanently pursed lips, "Professor Flitwick's hair is green!"

"Not purple?" Fred spoke up from next to him.

"This is no laughing matter. You boys are lucky the Professor has a sense of humor. If it were Snape or me in his position, I hope you realize the consequences would be more drastic than detention." She replied. This conversation had fallen upon George's deaf ears, though; his thoughts were much more full of things other than detention:

It was like a dream the first time he saw her - and not just because he had a black eye. He'd just left quidditch practice (or rather, was removed after he and Fred had gotten into a small tussle with the Slytherin bludgers who didn't understand Gryffindor booked the field for practice) when he passed the courtyard. Eye swelling with the beginnings of a bruise, he noticed a hazy glint coming from a line of trees. He could see her; she was only a few meters away, rolling some sort of ring or watch around in a way that caught the light of the fading sun. There was a book in her hands, something with a bright, poppy color, that hinted at it being a pulpy mystery or romance. What caught him the most, though, was her expression; her brows were creased, eyes set in concentration, lips downturned into a frown. Whatever she was reading was pissing her off, and for some reason, the sight of this unknown girl becoming increasingly annoyed at her imaginary tale made his mouth curl into a smile.

George returned to his dorm with that same smile. Of course, though, he'd forgotten about the girl within the hour and found himself following the rinse-and-repeat routine of a mischief-less night. He'd still forgotten when he woke. And when he brushed his teeth. And when he messily knotted his tie.

The funny thing about her was her persistence. He had not even taken a step down the ever-shifting staircase when he saw her. She was far below him and growing farther with every second, but there she was, pulpy fiction novel tucked under her arm. This time, her face was adorned with a grin as she followed (who George could only assume was) her friend towards the Great Hall. This sight caught the boy off guard for long enough that he nearly tripped over his feet when the steps relocated to the right.

George was even more aghast to learn that she was in his potions class. He'd just set down his books next to Fred when an invisible force compelled him to turn around. Following its lead, he found the mystery he'd yet to even consider mysterious seated only three tables away. His eyebrows raised in small bout of surprise as he noticed the the cover of her novel had changed to reveal a more gothic image of a knotted tree: Wuthering Heights. He hadn't cared much to track her progress on the pulp book, but it was still a small shock to see her ready to take on another story. Again, he smiled, noting the title of the new book.

"What'cha looking at?" Fred asked him, interrupting his gaze.

"Nothing," he replied, turning away, "Trying to view things from my purple perspective." Fred let out a low chuckle, his bruised cheek raising as he matched his brother's grin.

It wasn't as if George was seeking her out or anything - actually, it was as though she were seeking him. He saw her everywhere, from breakfast, to the halls, to classes, to the courtyard. He even dreamed of her a few times - nothing special, just the image of her resting along the hazy vignettes of his mind. Throughout all this, he had taken a subconscious interest. She ate away at muggle books faster than he'd ever seen anyone do; she loved cheesy and classic romance alike, and no title was safe from her grasp; it was painful to watch her brows knot and furrow as she became increasingly frustrated with what she was reading; when she was around her friends, her eyes lit up like her ring hitting the sunlight. These were easy things to notice, though. It wasn't hard to see how her hands moved wildly as she explained some sort of crazy story to those at her table in the Great Hall. It was so easy, in fact, that George's studies moved from potions to her every time the class began.

Though George had given plenty of thought to her, he hadn't realized just how much thought he'd donated. At least, not while he and Fred were plotting revenge. Though the bruises on the twins' faces healed over a month or so, their egos had yet to heal. They'd planned their revenge perfectly. The Slytherins who'd given them the shiners left dinner around the same time each night. The twins concocted an elixir that, with just one small drop on a person's head, would dye their hair for days. They'd positioned themselves on a balcony above the route which the Slytherins normally took. It was perfect - but, it wasn't. George took in the hall below him, scanning for the unsuspecting students, when his eyes caught something else. Her.

She was in the hall alone, book in hand, but unopened. It was odd. Normally, if she was by herself, she'd be focused intently on a book. But she wasn't. She was gently thumbing the pages of the novel, looking around the hall inquisitively. Was she waiting for someone? Or maybe she was-

Her eyes met his. His eyes met hers.

Not once in the weeks he'd taken up his sudden interest had she actually looked at him. And now she was. No - she wasn't just looking at him, she was seeing him, and with those eyes. They were so much brighter when they met you head-on - deeper, too. They held indescribable emotions. Curiosity? Maybe - he didn't know, nor did he really care to, because for five seconds, they saw each other. Then, George dropped his vile of elixir right onto Flitwick's head.

"Anything interesting going on up there?" Fred poked George's head. He hadn't even realized they'd already left McGonagall's office.

"Huh?" He mumbled, flicking his eyes around at his surroundings.

"She's got you bloody whipped, eh?" Fred showed off a toothy grin.

"What? Who?" George nearly scoffed at this sudden accusation.

"The girl you've been ogling at in potions. Your neck is gonna get stuck if you keep turning to look at her." He laughed. George scoffed, shoving into his brother.

"Just ask her to go to Hogsmeade with you. Take her to the Leaky Cauldron, get in a quick snog, and get over it already." At Fred's words, George let out a dry laugh and shook his head.

"Fred, you're mental." He let out a breathy chuckle.

"Nothing else? That's all?" Fred cocked his head, "She must've got'cha good. Maybe a couple quick snogs'll do it."

It was going to take more than a snog or two to get this off his mind now. He didn't even know her name - it was nothing. Just a couple stolen glances. But Fred noticed. When the hell did Fred notice anything? Maybe more people noticed. Maybe she noticed. George squeezed his eyes tight as he lay in bed that night - this strange, twisting anxiety had overtaken him and was turning his entire body inside out. Did he want her to notice?

George decided, as he woke up, that whatever it was he was dealing with, he had to get it over with. Before he did that, though, he would have to start his day. Pushing his toothbrush past his lips, all he could think about was her smile, or the way she frowned, or her lips pressed into a line every time she concentrated. When he tied his tie, his thoughts traveled to her wide eyes, full of laughter. He didn't even know her name.

He had a plan. He was going to talk to her - actually talk to her. He'd show up to potions early, ask her about her book, finally figure out her name. He was so focused on his preparations that when he began to descend the stairs, he didn't notice the oncoming pedestrian traffic, and - boom.

George stumbled back, quickly recovering from whoever he'd knocked into. The recipient of his force, though, wasn't as lucky: they ended up straight on their arse.

"Sorry!" He spoke quickly, "Didn't realize the stairs move." His smile (which had formed only a moment ago) faded entirely when he realized who he bumped into. Her. It was her, and she was early for breakfast.

"They tend to that," she replied, picking herself up. If he were a bit more suave, he might've helped her to her feet. Instead, he watched her stand, almost awe-struck by her movements. His gaze moved bashfully, eventually landing on the book that fallen to the floor along with her.

"Your book." He motioned to it quickly. In an attempt to make up for his lack of courtesy in helping her to her feet, he dove for the novel. And so did she. Their foreheads met with another smack, and they separated themselves before either could retrieve the object.

"Two for two, huh?" She let out a small laugh as she rubbed her head.

"Sorry," he repeated with sincerity as he successfully acquired her book from the floor. Once again, they were looking at each other. Seeing each other. George's lips parted.

"I'm George," he spoke, losing every ounce of confidence he normally possessed.

"I'm Y/N," she replied, "Could I have my book back?" George acquiesced almost immediately. He flashed a small smile that she quickly returned. Then, as the steps shifted once more, she began to walk away.

"See you in potions, George!" She called in an earnest tone. George grinned to himself. It was, after all, somewhat of a success. Even if he did - did she just say 'see you in potions'?

#harry potter #hogwarts #weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley fluff #george weasley #fred weasley #y/n #george weasley x y/n #fluff #crush #harry poter fluff #thursday writes

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sundrop-writes · 7 months

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Kisses Like Fire Whiskey

Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Summary:

When you come back from a long healing apprenticeship in France, you and Fred catch up over drinks, reminiscing about your days as mischievous rebels. In the drunken haze, some important things are realized.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Fluff (with a slight bit of Angst). Set post Deathly Hallows and during Goblet of Fire.

Word Count: 7,500

Harry Potter Masterlist | AO3 Link

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is bookended with scenes that take place after the war, but obviously this is a Fred Lives AU; part of this takes place after main storyline of Deathly Hallows and part of it takes place in a flashback during Goblet of Fire (when Fred and the reader are in their sixth year); the reader and Fred are the same age; while part of this takes places post Deathly Hallows, there isn't mentions of the war; it's never mentioned exactly how long the reader was away, but the reader and Fred are both in their early 20s in the bookended parts; drinking and drunkenness are major plot points in this fic, as well as underage drinking; underage characters being in a bar/pub; Fred and the reader both drink, but there are mentions of Fred seeming more sober than the reader/handling his alcohol better; they are drunk to the point of lowering their inhibitions, but not to the point of passing out or forgetting things; mentions of George x Katie Bell as a background ship; mentions of splinching/the dangers of Apparating while drunk (does not actually happen in the fic, everyone is fine); mentions of vomiting due to over consumption of alcohol (doesn't happen to any of the main characters of this fic, it's a very small background element); passing mention of a cursed object that makes people spit up their own blood; creepy men approach the reader (and Fred defends her) - minor sexual harassment from older men toward the reader; this does use Y/N (I started out as a Quizilla girly, I will live and die by Y/N); this is mostly just mutual pining and fluff with a love confession at the end. So please enjoy!!

A/N: when I read the original request, I was inspired to take it a lot further, and after writing The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes, I have realized that I really loving writing simplistic fics that are mutual pining that turns into a love confession. It's so much fun.

...

“So then - so then - Bill says: ‘where’s Percy?’, and Mum looks around the table and realises Perce is even there.” George chuckled brightly, topping off the telling of another one of their chaotic childhood stories.

“‘Course, Mum blamed it on us.” Fred said, rolling his eyes.

“As if she was wrong!” You argued, reaching out and smacking him on the shoulder playfully.

Your words were louder to your own ears than you had intended to say them, slurring slightly on your lips. Perhaps you had more to drink than you had realised, but you were simply having fun catching up with your dearest, oldest friends. So you couldn’t bring yourself to truly care or view it as a problem.

You were simply overjoyed to see Fred and George again.

You were visiting England for the first time in years, and naturally, the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes shop had been your first stop. You had grown up with the twins - since your first year at Hogwarts together, they had been two of your closest friends. Ever since you had been sorted into Gryffindor with them, the three of you had been thick as thieves. Right from the moment you had suggested to them that they actually unscrew a toilet seat lid and send it to their little sister Ginny in the post when they had initially just been joking about doing so. Ginny had found it highly amusing - their mother, not so much.

But when you met Molly for the first time in person, you were always on her good side. You were very good at playing the ‘perfect angel’ in front of authority figures (unlike the twins). So you could very easily bat your eyelashes and say a few sweet things, as well as being on your best behaviour on the surface, before sneaking around with the twins at night and helping them with their pranks - not that anyone else ever suspected you of doing so.

You were the perfect accomplice for them. Someone who was labelled as a goody-two-shoes who was down for mischief at any time.

You had been slightly heartbroken when you found out that they were planning to quit their Seventh Year partyway through in order to start their joke shop. You knew that it had always been a dream of theirs, and it was your dream to see them succeed in it. But a large part of you had been hoping to graduate with your best friends by your side. They had offered for you to come with them, of course. They told you that you could have a very fulfilling career at the shop. But you had other plans for yourself.

So you watched them ride off on their brooms, cheering and hollering for them alongside everyone else. And after your graduation, you had come to visit the shop in its full glory, seeing its whimsical beauty with your own eyes before you left England. As much as you hated that your lives had taken such different paths, you admired them deeply for succeeding.

Since then, you had been in France. You had taken on a prestigious healing apprenticeship in order to become a high level Healer. It was something you had always dreamed of doing - helping people through the skilled art of healing.

Perhaps, in some ways, it was a career choice inspired partially by your two best friends - seeing them blow themselves up or get horrible boils testing their own products, you wanted to be able to soothe the side effects faster. And you knew that there were plenty more children out there like them. Children who would fall from trees pretending to be a dragon or lose their teeth trying to eat a deck of Exploding Snap, children who needed gentle understanding from a Healer rather than scolding.

You had recently finished up your apprenticeship, and you were hoping to get a job at St. Mungo’s to be closer to the people you always viewed as family. But even just stepping foot back in the twins’ shop felt like home. You had been greeted with tight hugs and so much chatter between them about missing you that you could barely decipher the words between two voices. They had invited you up to the flat above the shop for a drink - so now, hours later, you were quite tipsy and feeling the best that you had in years.

“You know boys, I haven’t - I haven’t been this tossed off my tits in quite a while!” You announced loudly, pausing between words to let out a small hiccup, signifying just how drunk you were.

You weren’t at the level of drunk where things were unpleasant - not where the room was spinning and you were on the verge of passing out, battling with nausea. But your normal sense of proprietary had definitely been tossed out the window, you felt fuzzy around the edges, and everything felt delightfully warm. Especially considering you had been drinking Fire Whiskey.

You hadn’t had a drink all throughout your apprenticeship, as much as the other young people working with you encouraged you to ‘take a load off’ every once and a while. Your work was something that you took very seriously (especially when Fred and George weren’t around to tempt you with pranks and daily mischief). So this was the first time in a long time that you had actually taken the time to relax, and the alcohol was hitting you a lot harder than even you realised.

The boys chuckled at your words, George turning bright red from how hard he was laughing. Perhaps the booze was hitting him pretty hard too. While Fred’s eyes were dancing with that brightness they always had when he was having fun, he didn’t seem quite as sloppy. You hadn’t been paying attention, but he likely didn’t have as much to drink, and had simply been enjoying your company the entire time.

“You know, I really missed you, Fred and George.” You said, pure sincerity dripping through your tone, your affection amplified in your chest by your drunkenness. You couldn’t hold yourself back - your emotions bubbling to the surface without your consent. “And I really, really missed you, Fred.”

You turned to him, putting a warm hand on his shoulder, your touch practically burning up through the sleeve of his silken shirt (you were surprised by how nicely the twins dressed now that they were established bussinessmen). You hated that you couldn’t hold back the need to emphasise the fact that you had missed Fred just a bit more. But he had been on your mind a lot more than his brother had, as scarily similar as they were.

Even if you had barely admitted it to yourself, throughout all your years at Hogwarts, you had a romantic inclination towards Fred.

It was never something you had acted on, for fear of ruining the amazing friendship that the two of you had. But as your visit to England grew closer and closer, you found yourself losing focus on your work and thinking about him more and more. You wondered if he had found someone - you wondered if his good looks, his charm, his humour had landed him a wife in the time that you had been gone. It wouldn’t have surprised you if, during the time you had been gone, he had married or even had kids.

Obviously he had a wonderful career nailed down, so a family would have been the natural next step for him.

Those thoughts made you approach the shop’s door with equal parts dread and excitement. You eagerly wanted to see him again but didn’t want to see that there was a ring on his finger. You had been all too happy to find out during your long, winding ‘catch up’ conversation that, in fact, he was still single. George had brought up that fact more than once, actually, nagging on his brother’s lonely status like it was the most recent funny joke he could prod at.

When you heard him talk about it, there was that insecurity still bubbling beneath the surface - the thought that you had missed your chance, or that Fred had never been interested in you romantically at all. It was something that couldn’t even be knocked away by booze, and that was gnawing at you now that storytime was winding down.

Fred and George exchanged a look - one of those silent conversations that could only be had through micro-expressions because of their closeness as twins. It was something that had always deeply irritated you during your days at Hogwarts, desperately trying to decipher if it meant ‘close to expulsion’ trouble or simply ‘skipping a class’ trouble.

“Well, would you look at the time,” George said, loudly and rather cartoonishly as he looked at his watch. It was something that you likely would have found suspect if you weren’t feeling hazy and drunk. “I told Katie I would pop over to hers sometime this weekend, so I should get going,”

Something that had come as a brilliant surprise to you: finding out that George was now engaged to Katie Bell.

Not only were you shocked to know that George seemed more than eager to ‘settle down’ and get married, but you were entirely curious about how they came to be as a couple. Especially considering that, as far as you knew, she had always seemed to find the twins’ pranks more annoying than anything else.

But you supposed that annoyance and attraction were two twigs on the same branch, the tree just needed to be shaken a little for something romantic to happen. The two of them hadn’t officially moved in together yet, as much as George talked about her with those sweet, rose-coloured lenses, and seemed to want to spend all his time around her. The twins still lived in the flat above the shop, two twin beds in the bedroom, as they always had in their room at the Burrow. But from the way Fred remarked on it, and from what you had seen glancing into their bedroom when you had gotten up to use the toilet, George was over at Katie’s far more than he was at their flat.

You couldn’t help but to find it sweet. George was in love.

It made you happy for him, knowing that he had found someone good for him. But thinking about it caused a pang in your chest as you wondered if Fred was lonely. You knew that loneliness certainly wasn’t a feeling that he was used to. If it was you or George, or one of his many other brothers, he always had someone at his side to keep him company.

You could only imagine what those nights were like - when the shop closed up and George popped off to his soon to be wife’s place, leaving Fred to nothing but the quiet. (You knew that Weasleys were never good with quiet - part of the reason that the twins were the way that they were.)

George peeled himself off the floor, where the three of you had been sitting around the coffee table in the lounge. Like a gangly baby deer, he began stumbling about due to his own drunkenness before he gained a proper footing and finally managed to stand up straight. You let out a snorting laugh at the sight and Fred - very clearly the most sober of the three of you - rushed out of his seat to grab George by the shoulders, making sure that his brother was alright.

“You sure that you’re okay to Apparate, Georgie?” Fred asked.

That kindness, that caring - it was something people often overlooked when they saw Fred Weasley. But it was one of the things that had drawn you to him the most. He was such a sweet person, and he cared about the people in his life with such a ferocity that it made your soul ache just to know that you were one of them.

“I’ll be fine, Freddie.” George replied.

Fred picked up George’s coat and began helping him into it, and you barely paid attention to the hushed conversation that the two of them had as you picked up the large (now rather light) bottle of Fire Whiskey and poured yourself another drink.

You caught something online the lines of ‘just go for it, for Merlin’s sake’ - very strained and annoyed, but you honestly had no clue what they were talking about. As you took a sip of your drink - you truly didn’t care.

Fred heaved out a sigh and then George disappeared with a crack. You craned your neck to look at the spot where he had been, just wanting to make sure that there was no blood or unsightly pieces of George left behind. There weren’t any - he had done fine.

“Havin’ another one, are we?” Fred remarked, walking around the coffee table to collapse onto the plush couch behind your back.

You chugged the rest of the Fire Whiskey from your glass all in one go, growling slightly as it burned sharply down your throat before you put the glass down once again.

“I’m celebrating!” You cheered loudly - again, much louder than you intended it to be. “I missed my best friends so much. It’s so - so good to be home.”

“But apparently you missed me just a bit more?” Fred chuckled, referring to your comment from before.

You moved to get up on the couch with him, and found your legs unsteady beneath you. Fred saw what you were doing and put a hand on your upper arm, hauling you back to sit on the cushions beside him. You moaned quietly at the warmth of his large hand on your bare skin, exposed by the camisole you were wearing. At one point, you had been wearing a nice cardigan, but you had stripped out of it as the alcohol drove your body temperature up.

You leaned back into the couch, and cuddled up against him. His body was soft and muscled at the same time, and he felt so nice against you. With your inhibitions lowered, you could see no fault in snuggling tightly into his side and laying your head on his chest. You wanted to simply enjoy the physical affection from a person you had missed so dearly.

You didn’t see the pure warring on Fred’s face as you did this - the confliction and yearning and hurt flashing over his features. He had missed you too, but he knew that you had missed him as a friend, just as a good friend, and not as the ‘one that got away’ that he had been thinking about every damn day since. But he could be cool about this, he told himself. He wouldn’t let his stupid feelings get in the way.

After a moment of pushing those pesky feelings back down, he finally relaxed into your touches and wrapped an arm around you, lazily brushing his fingers across the bare skin of your arm on the other side. You sighed happily at the feeling. From this close, he could smell the feminine floral waft of your perfume in combination with the hot cinnamon of the Fire Whiskey. And though it only made him yearn more, it was heaven.

He was all too happy to have you this close rather than you being so far away in France. He was happy to have you home.

“Do you want to stay the night?” He asked. “George’s bed will be empty, of course.”

He added on that second part quickly - he wanted you to feel comfortable, didn’t want to put any pressure on you to keep up this closeness, even if you seemed cuddly and affectionate because of your drunken state.

Originally, you had been planning to get a room at The Leaky Cauldron, but the twins’ shop had been your very first stop, and they had torn your suitcase out of your hands to bring it upstairs for you, so it was currently sitting off to the side of the lounge with your coat draped over it. And you never did get that room. Now, you realised it was laughable to think that you’d be staying anywhere but with friends, especially with the Molly Weasley hospitality baked right into them. You had to assume that even if George wasn’t at Katie’s, he would have slept on the couch so that you could take his bed anyway.

“Freddie, you know, I don’t think I’m going to get very far.” You said. “You - you got me pretty d-drunk.”

Fred smiled to himself. “Ah, I see. Once again, it is all my fault.”

It was something you did at large during your days at Hogwarts. You blamed him for yourself being late to class, you getting detentions, the few times you had ended up on Molly’s bad side. When in reality, you had always been a cheerful, willing participant in their chaos, you had always ‘blamed’ him for dragging you into it. But it only made him tempt you into more trouble.

“It is,” You sighed, turning your head to give him a wide grin. “You always g-get me into trouble.”

Fred let out a quiet laugh at this, and you laid your head on this chest once again. The two of you mulled in the comfortable silence for a few moments before you thought of something.

“You know, this-s reminds me, of - of the first time you got me drunk.” You told him with a laugh.

“Oh, god, back in sixth year?” He posed, returning to the memory himself. “That was epic. I still don’t know if I’d call it an epic disaster, or epic fun.”

“Bit of both.” You mumbled quietly. “Always is with you.”

Sitting there, curled up next to the lovely warmth of him, you remembered the night so fondly.

…

Leave it to Fred Weasley to pull you out of bed at half past two in the morning with no solid explanation as to why, aside from ‘we have plans’.

When you asked him why he couldn’t conduct those plans with George, as he usually did, he simply smirked and said that George had plans of his own. Which deeply worried you - but you tried your best to ignore it. You knew from experience that Fred wasn’t a walking troublemaker all the time.

In fact, the events of just a short week ago had proven that to you. He had invited you to the Yule Ball (as friends, of course) and the entire evening had been absolutely pleasant. No pranks - no water balloons, no coloured dye, no buckets of feathers, no charmed objects, no floods. It had been nothing but a delightful night of dancing and chatting with your friends.

Even now, as Fred pulled you into the mouth of a very small passageway that you had never seen before (one that caused you to slump over in order to walk through it), you pulled your scarf tighter around yourself and tried your hardest not to worry about what he might be up to. At the very least, if he was planning something large and disruptive, you would know about it, so that you wouldn’t be on the receiving end.

He had told you that these ‘plans’ involved going outdoors, so you had bundled up well, because there was still quite a few feet of snow outside and it was chilly, seeing as it was so late at night. But you hadn’t expected it to be so damn cold, walking in a random mystery tunnel underneath the school. Again, you had no clue where he was taking you or where the thing even led - you were simply glad when it became tall enough for you to straighten your back up.

“Where are we going, Fred?” You demanded harshly.

“You’ll see.” Fred told you, throwing a wicked grin over his shoulder at you as he continued to lead you forward through the darkness - the light of his wand being the only thing leading the way in the musty old tunnel.

“Nothing good ever happens when you say those words.” You replied, heaving a deep sigh.

“Well, perhaps, you could keep your mind open this time.” He said brightly. “Loosen up. Be open to all the possibilities that the universe has to offer you,”

You rolled your eyes at this. He was trying to direct your attention away from whatever scheme he had planned, that much was immediately clear to you.

“Is this an escape tunnel out of the country because you finally did something bad enough for your mother to kill you?” You joked. “Let me guess, you’re meeting George in Germany? What was it that finally pushed her over the edge? Did she find out that you two took bets at the World Cup? Did she find out about the-?”

Your words were abruptly cut off when Fred tapped his wand on the wall in front of him. It was a seemingly a dead end wall made of stone, keeping the two of you trapped at the end of the tunnel. But when he whispered some incantation under his breath, the stone began to grind loudly and it parted ways - letting in a gust of cold air from the outside, revealing the way out.

Fred stepped forward and you continued to follow him. As the stone grinded closed behind the two of you (now disguised as nothing more than a large, natural boulder) you gaped with shock as you saw a cluster of lights just down the hill and you quickly realised what it was.

“Hogsmeade.” You declared quietly, entirely shocked that you had walked through a dirty tunnel and ended up here.

Somehow, without getting caught - without setting off any charms that should supposedly be in place to keep the students on the school’s grounds.

Fred nodded proudly, grinning at you.

“How-?” You gaped.

“I have my ways, don’t I?” Fred said, his chest visibly puffing out with pride.

You decided not to question it. Especially because you fully understood it now - Fred was bored, he knew a way out of the school, and he simply wanted to have fun in Hogsmeade instead of laying in bed that night.

Fred took a hold of your hand as the two of you walked into town, and you took a quiet joy in observing Hogsmeade at night. Quite a few of the shops were closed, due to it being so late, which did make you wonder why Fred had even bothered to bring you there.

But he soon answered your question when he brought you to The Three Broomsticks - which was lit up, bustling and lively at this time. You knew that the front door was enchanted to alert the owner of underage wizards trying to pass through at certain times. Before you could even wonder what Fred’s plan was for that one - he led you around to the back, and he caught the back door out of someone’s hand as they ran outside and began puking in a snowbank, obviously unable to handle their liquor.

The two of you slipped in the back door completely undetected, seeing as it didn’t have those same enchantments to alert the owner of your presence. You began tingling with the glee that you always wore whenever Fred pulled you along to perform some mischief. You felt so joyous when you paired up to share wicked secrets with him. Fred had a talent for getting away with things (and other times, he so fabulously didn’t) - but he got away with a lot more than anybody ever realised, right under their noses. You felt clever just being around him most of the time.

With all the confidence in the world, still holding your hand, Fred pushed past some other rowdy patrons and waltzed right up to the bar. He tossed down a few Sickles (bet money that he and George had won from the World Cup, you could guarantee) and you couldn’t help but to grin at him as so confidently placed an order.

“Two Fire Whiskeys, please.” He announced, never once skipping a beat or faltering as any other underage person in a bar would.

It was strange to say, but Fred wore playful deception so well. You knew that you were staring at him with intense attraction written all over your face as you admired his antics. You simply hoped that he wouldn’t catch the love dopey look on your face and call you out on it.

“Coming right up, love-” Madam Rosmerta began to comply with his request without issue, but she took pause when she looked up from drying a glass with a rag long enough to truly look at the two of you.

That was the moment you thought it was over, for sure. You thought that she would send an angry owl up to Hogwarts, and the two of you would be done for. You began to imagine what kind of sick and twisted punishment McGonagall would have in store for the two of you - scrubbing cauldrons for weeks, trimming all the grass on the Quidditch pitch with scissors.

But somehow, Fred was a lot more clever than that. He wasn’t going to give up and simply let himself be caught.

“Aren’t you two a little… young to be in here?” She posed, glancing between the two of you and then looking back toward the front door, as though she was expecting the enchantments to suddenly begin wailing to alert her to a couple of underage wizards in the pub. Even though the two of you had successfully made it all the way over to the bar without that happening.

“Young?” Fred scoffed, putting on his very best tone of fake offence. “Honestly, woman, why would a couple of kids be in a pub at three in the morning?”

Rosmerta raised a brow at him, making it clear that she didn’t buy this - at least not yet.

Your stomach curled with nerves, and you tried your hardest not to show it on your face. You knew that this would either end in a spectacular punishment, or Fred would pull off one of his greatest hoaxes yet.

“Perhaps you might recognize us from when we were Hogwarts students,” Fred shrugged, trying his best to sound casual. “But we graduated year before last. And we just got off a very long shift with the Department of Cursed Objects, and we would simply like a drink.”

“Yeah, that last one was a doozy.” Your tongue moved before you gave it permission, and you found yourself leaning on the bar as you added onto Fred’s lie. “We had to hunt down this set of silver teaware that poisoned anyone who drank out of it. They were spitting up blood, and rotting from the inside out, choking on their own-”

“My apologies.” Rosmerta said, giving a curt smile. Clearly, she was increasingly uncomfortable with the graphic nature of your made-up story, and simply wanted you and Fred out of her way. “You must be right. The students from the school all start to blend together after the years. How ‘bout that drink then?”

She turned to grab a pair of non-cursed glasses, and when you glanced over at Fred, he was grinning widely at you.

“Good one.” He whispered into your ear, and you couldn’t help the shiver that went through you at the feeling of his hot breath on your neck. If asked, you would say that it was caused by the chill of someone opening the door, and not caused by your unbearable attraction to him.

When the drinks were placed on the bar in front of you, Rosmerta scurried off to attend to someone else. You picked up the glass that was half filled with the amber liquid, feeling intense victory and satisfaction flowing through you. In a predictable pattern, you and Fred gently clinked your glasses together.

But rather than making a congratulatory toast in celebration of getting away with the lies, you grinned widely at him as you said this:

“You’re a menace to society, Fred Weasley.”

“You love it.” He replied easily, giving you a cheeky wink as he tossed back the liquid in one clean gulp. He winced slightly and sucked in a breath sharply through his teeth. But it was clearly not his first time drinking, and you had to guess that Bill was the one responsible for that.

Wanting to match him, you did the same - you tipped the glass back, letting all of the liquid slide past your lips and down your throat in one go. It burnt sharply in a way that you absolutely weren’t expecting, and you began coughing and sputtering, giving away your amateur nature in one glance. It was lucky that Rosmerta wasn’t looking. Fred rubbed your back soothingly, though he did take a moment to laugh at you.

“Burns, doesn’t it?” He chuckled.

“You c-could’ve warned me.”

…

A short while later, the burn of the alcohol was certainly no longer a concern for you. You supposed that was part of the point - if booze made you drunk and detached from yourself, they didn’t have to make it taste good. Because after a while, you just didn’t taste it.

You and Fred were three rounds deep, and even though he was matching you drink for drink, he was far more composed than you were. He hardly seemed drunk at all, other than the cute way he giggled at your jokes. Perhaps it was because of his height, or his Quidditch playing muscles, but he was handling his alcohol surprisingly well.

You, on the other hand - you were properly sloshed.

You had shed most of your winter clothing and spread the pieces haphazardly around the table that Fred had sat the two of you at. And you were currently trying to balance one of the empty shot glasses on your forehead - just to prove that you could, while Fred watched on in amusement.

Of course, he was partially amused by your drunken antics, and partially watching your cleavage threaten to burst out of your tight, V neck tee shirt as you arched your back furiously, trying to keep the glass balanced there. Since you had shed off your jacket and thick jumper, this was what you were left in, along with your tight jeans and boots - and Fred found that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

“See! Told you I could do it!” You cheered, proud of yourself as you finally reached up and took the glass down, and then moved back to sit in your chair in front of Fred.

He couldn’t help but to smile at you. Honestly, he would never doubt you in anything you set your mind to. If you said that you could walk up walls or make Snape dance a jig, he would simply wait to watch it happen.

As he watched your proud smile and the way that the slightly drunken confidence caused you to sit up a bit taller, seeing the light from the fireplace gently kiss your skin - he was reminded of why he had brought you here in the first place. He let the alcohol in his own system give him courage (something that had been built into the plan) and he reached across the table, grabbing your hand gently with both of his.

The suddenly serious look that befell Fred’s face surprised you. That sense of surprise only grew when he took hold of your hand. He had more than captured your attention as he began to speak.

“Y/N, there’s something I really need to tell you.” Fred announced, his voice taking on a very rare serious quality.

It was something you had only heard from him when he talked about the possible ways to fund his joke shop or when you had fallen off a broom playing Quidditch at the Burrow and he had been worried about you being hurt. You nodded, stunned into silence, wondering if this meant bad news coming, eager for him to continue.

“Y/N, darling, you truly are the most amazing thing in my life.” He said, giving a small smile. Hearing this made your stomach tingle - it made the clasp of his hands around yours feel warmer. “You are so utterly brilliant. And you’re funny, and you’re the only girl I know who actually laughs at the stupid pranks I pull. I absolutely love spending time with you. I genuinely can’t imagine my life without you. So much so, that-”

“Hello, sweet thing.”

Fred’s words were disrupted by a deep voice, someone behind you who grumbled out these words and then let out a low whistle.

It took you a moment to realise that it was even directed at you. But when Fred’s face switched from that sweet smile to a harsh glare - a look that was rare for him, you followed his intense gaze over your shoulder to see what he was looking at.

It was a group of three men, much older than you, greasy-haired, wearing dark cloaks - staring at you like a pack of coyotes would stare at a hunk of fresh meat. Their gaze immediately made you feel naked, and though you were blazen hot, between the Fire Whiskey coursing through your system and the heat of the fireplace licking at you nearby, you had the urge to grab your jumper and pull it on over your head simply so that they would stop looking.

“Now what is a pretty thing like you doing in this dirty old pub?” One of the men asked, his voice feeling filthy in your ears and causing your spine to curl with disgust and something that you would hesitate to admit was fear. “Surely you must be lost, sweet thing. Need someone to show you the way home, then?”

You quickly jumped out of your chair and moved around the table to Fred’s side, where he had risen and easily swept you into his side with an arm around your shoulders. In a moment, you felt safer under his protective touch as he continued to glare at the men.

“Bugger off, then!” Fred ordered sharply.

“Oh, ‘bugger off’,” One of the others mocked Fred’s words in a whiny tone - clearly they didn’t take him seriously because he was obviously younger, even if he was quite tall for his age.

“What are you, her little boyfriend?” Another one of them joked.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.” Fred stated confidently, tossing in the obvious lie. “And I can tell you that brushing your teeth is one of the first requirements to getting a woman of this calibre,”

You resisted the urge to laugh at how his statement made their faces immediately meek and embarrassed.

“Well, if she wants a real man, that’s up to her to decide.” The man said gruffly. “Innit, princess?”

When he tossed out the nickname, you felt bile curl in your stomach, and it took you only a second to move when Fred uttered his next words to you.

“Grab your coat. We’re leaving.”

You scrambled around the table to get your jumper, mittens, hat, scarf, and your coat. As you were reaching across to one of the chairs to grab the last item, one of the men actually had the audacity to grab your wrist, stopping you from pulling back with the item in hand.

“If the girl wants to stay and have fun, that’s her choice.” He grumbled.

You wanted to tout that no, your idea of fun wasn’t hanging around men like this, but your voice was shrunken down into your throat with fear.

His grip around you was stiff and painful, and you immediately looked to Fred - whose jaw was set with a seething anger that you had only seen in him once before (when Malfoy had dared to insult Ginny right in front of him). He reached one hand into his pocket and leaned on the table with the other hand.

The man still didn’t let go of you, and you wondered if Fred’s hand was sitting on his wand in his pocket.

“Listen, bud, I don’t speak troll, so I’ll say this very slowly for you,” Fred announced, his voice dark with anger. “Let. Her. Go.”

The man immediately became outraged at being called a troll, and he moved his hand off your wrist, curling it into a hefty fist that he moved to swing at Fred’s head.

Fred ducked out of the way seamlessly, and you pulled your coat into the pile of clothes at your chest as Fred’s hand came out of his pocket with a lump of something black that looked almost like ordinary coal. He tossed it down to the floor and it exploded into a cloud of pure, thick darkness. Before you could truly comprehend what was going on, Fred’s comforting arm was around your shoulders, guiding you back out the back door of the pub.

You were thankful to be surrounded by cool air, the anxiety unwinding around you as Fred guided you away from the scene.

“Freddie, that was amazing!” You gasped, more than happy to praise him for saving you from those creeps.

You trudged along through the snow, incredibly chilly now that the wind kissed your bare arms and you held your jumper and your jacket rather than wearing them. But you were distracted from that feeling as you stared at the pub. You heard muffled coughs and voices loudly complaining, and as you circled around to the front, you saw the dark smoke overtaking any light that was inside, so much so that it began to pour out from the chimney and leak out of the cracks around the front door.

“What was that?” You had to ask, looking on in pure curiosity of the concoction that he had released into the pub.

“...new product George and I have been working on,” Fred admitted, his voice quivering with nerves slightly as he heard the coughs and sputters from inside. “Should probably adjust the size of the pellets, though. That was a bit… much.”

“Everything about you is ‘much’, Fred.” You said, still feeling that beautiful drunken warmth. It morphed into pure admiration toward him that you could hardly hold back. “That’s what makes you great.”

Fred chuckled at this.

He helped you get dressed back in your warm clothes, and the two of you walked back to the castle through that secret tunnel once again. He never quite built up the courage to get back to that topic he had so badly wanted to discuss - the entire reason he had taken you to Hogsmeade in the first place. But he basked in the simple joys of the night as the two of you talked in the Gryffindor common room and eventually, you fell asleep cuddled up to his chest while lounging on a couch in front of the fire.

…

Now, all these years later, curled up on the couch with him much like you had been that night - you finally realised what he had been trying to say.

“Oh my god.” You gasped quietly, opening your eyes and sitting stark upright.

Fred was surprised by this, seeing as he thought that you were starting to fall asleep on his chest. He had been sitting there quietly, mentally debating if he should levitate you to bed or risk the neck cramps of sleeping upright on the couch himself.

“What?” He asked quietly, feeling entirely clueless.

“Oh. My. God!” You screamed, jumping off the couch and pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“What? What?!” He asked, the word growing in volume and sense of alarm in his mouth the longer you went without telling him what was wrong.

“That day - that day-” You were struggling to gather your thoughts into words, a drunken slur still slightly evident on your tongue. Though the anxiety and panic that had suddenly set in had woken up quite a few of your senses.

“What? What day?” Fred parroted back, even more confused.

“That day.” You repeated, pressing emphasis on the word. “That time, back in sixth year, when we snuck out to Hogsmeade.”

A look of dawning came across Fred’s features, and he became more sullen than you had ever seen him. It was something that punched you sharply in the chest as the realisation hit you even harder now.

You had been so stupid. How could you not have known it back then?

“You… you were gonna confess your feelings to me.” You said quietly, almost afraid to speak the words aloud.

Perhaps he could have saved himself some pain if he lied, but he saw no good sense in denying it.

“Yes.” He said quietly, unshed tears scraping the inside of his throat.

“What-?” Now it was your turn to gape with confusion. “Was that the only time? Why then?”

“That certainly was not the only bloody time.” Fred chuckled, the laughter sounding heavy and dark in his throat rather than joyous and light as it usually did coming from him. “I tried about a million other times before then - at the Quidditch World Cup, before we ran into your cousins who just so desperately needed your attention. On the train that year, before Katie burst in and stole you away to chat on about what a great summer you had. I thought perhaps you’d get the bloody point when I asked you to be my date to the Yule Ball.”

It felt as though an icy shard was shoved right through your heart.

You had been so stupid.

“I - I thought you asked me to go as friends.” You told him, entirely honest about your viewpoint.

“Well that just makes me feel like the biggest arse in existence.” Fred shrugged.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” You barked out, feeling an intense frustration rush over you.

You felt indignant, annoyed. You felt like something had been stolen from you - information, time that you should have spent with Fred as your boyfriend rather than the time you had spent simply wishing he was.

Fred scoffed at this, clearly hurt.

“Well, Y/N, at a certain point, I lost my balls!” He shouted back. That was a harsh thing to imagine - Fred Weasley losing the courage to take a risk. “I thought that after all the damn interruptions, the universe just didn’t want you to know that I’m hopeless bleedin’ in love with you.”

Your throat clenched up when he said it in the present tense - said like he still had those feelings for you. You wanted so badly to say it back, but your voice was caught in your throat for a harsh moment. It caused a pitiable silence over the room that made him rush to continue.

“Honestly, I thought - I thought it might be different after you left.”

He said quietly, his voice breaking around the words slightly.

“I thought that not seeing you every day… that I might be able to forget how I felt. But it only got worse. I thought about you every single day, and I missed you so badly. And now that you’re standing here in front of me - now, you’re not just some girl I fancied in school, now… you have turned into this magnificent woman that I love. And it would be my biggest regret if you didn’t know that.”

Fred confessed, his words so passionate that it caused tingles down your spine, and goosebumps across your arms.

“But you’re probably so drunk that you won’t remember this in the morning, and there’s probably some French arsehole named Pierre waiting for you-”

“There’s no one else.” You quickly blurted out, suddenly finding your voice.

Your body finally caught up to your mind, bursting with the urge for him to know this.

“It’s always been you, Fred Weasley.” You announced, your words slicing through the air like a diamond cutting through glass.

His eyes lit up and this, and he stared at you with the slightest bit of hope dancing across his features as he waited, holding his breath for you to possibly confirm the thing he had been dreaming about for years.

“And I certainly won’t forget this. No booze or potion - nothing could make me forget you saying the words I have always wanted to hear.”

You reached out and took a tight grip on the front of his shirt, pulling him toward you with force - you slammed your lips into his, finally doing the thing you had been dreaming of since you were a teenager. He let out a moan as you kissed him with as much intense passion as he had put into his words. Right as his tongue snaked toward your lips, you pulled back for a breath, and simply for good measure:

“I love you, Fred.” You breathed out.

“Oh, thank Merlin.”

#sundrop writes #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred wealsey fic

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shadowbriar · 10 months

Text

George Fabian Weasley Masterlist

♤ Angst - ♡ Fluff - ✮ AU - ♛ Popular

One-shot

♡ Overtime: Inspired by Overtime by Seafret. George gathers the courage to confess to the Gryffindor Head Girl who always seemed to have a handful heart.

♤♡ Never Walk Away Again: Inspired by Never Gonna Leave This Bed by Maroon 5. She knew that she’s playing with fire from the beginning, but his demeanour has poured nothing but gasoline and now she’s the only one burning in flame as he watches on the side.

♡ Mother Knows Best: The Weasley family dinner might not just be another gathering this time as Molly Weasley invited his long lost lover. Set after the Great War. Fred is very much alive.

♡♛Pretend Boyfriend: “Well, since you don't have anyone you want to go with and that I need someone to shield me from these boys, would you please be my pretend boyfriend?” George deals with his feelings as he falls deeper for her in their fake relationship.

♤♡ Soul Bound: The old grimoire was wide open for her to read. Truth be told, she never thought she would ever need to open the grimoire. But desperate time calls for desperate measures and that’s certainly what she is right now.

♤♡♛Delicate [Requested]: Insecurity and misunderstanding led the boy to ask the wrong girl for the Yule Ball.

♤ Starcrossed: George Weasley x Malfoy!Reader George comes to the realisation that sometimes, somethings are destined to end.

♤♡ One Day [Request]: Being the centre of attention all of their lives has made the two crave for privacy and tranquillity more than anything, but would solitude be a good enough reason to keep their relationship secret?

♤♡ Loved and Lost You [Requested]: Fake dating gone wrong when she realises that her silly idea to help the Hufflepuff boy costs her his bestfriend.

♤♡ Nothing’s Gonna Hut You Baby: The war took something from everyone and it certainly took a big part away from George Weasley.

♤ Vitalum Vitalis: Balancing the scales of life and death is never close to the word safe, but what else could she do when he’s losing his other half?

Series

♤ Reignite: One ill-considered joke leads to another hasty decision that though both of them have to suffer the disastrous aftermath, only one could try to light the spark again.

♤ Ember: This story is part II of Reignite. He crawls back to the past, trying to salvage whatever is left of them. But one could only try so much before their heart yields and cave in defeat.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley oneshot #george weasley scenario #george weasley scenarios #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley angst #george weasley fluff #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x oc #george weasley x y/n #george weasley masterlist

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george-weasleys-girl · 8 months

Note

YULE TIDE REQUEST COMING IN HOT BC ITS COLD

Could you write something where the Weasleys are heading to spend Christmas at the order after Mr Weasleys attack (so could be a bit angsty to start), and on their arrival they find Y/N there with Sirus, her Dad and her Uncle Moony, telling her and the trio how they set up the old order back in the day and reader talks about setting up a new one, but the twins (Fred is her bf) didn't know who her family was as she kept it secret, all these years, even more so as Lupin teaches them all Defence Against The Dark Arts. Maybe a bit of akwardness at first when she explains why she couldn't tell them (rumours going around the magic world etc), but cute fluff after when they continue discussing the order, open presents etc. I need cute fluff 🥰

❄️Yuletide Celebration❄️

Fancy Meeting You Here

I goofed and posted this early.🤦‍♀️My only other option was to delete it. So, here it is. Merry Really, Early Christmas! 🎁

Fred Weasley x Fem!reader

~•~

"It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake’s fangs that keep wounds open," Arthur had explained. "They’re sure they’ll find an antidote. Though, they say they’ve had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime, I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour."

It was touch and go for a while, but you'd never know it talking to the Weasley patriarch. Despite excruciating pain and losing half his body weight in blood every day, Arthur had remained in high spirits throughout the whole ordeal.

Fred wished he could say the same for himself. Oh sure, he played it off well enough, making jokes and being silly, but truthfully, it had scared him. The knowledge that his dad could've died had shaken him to his very core, and he had no idea how to handle that.

He was certain things would've been better if his girlfriend was by his side. But, sadly, her parents had insisted she come home for the holidays, leaving him to muddle through on his own.

~•~

"Y/N!" Fred ran toward, picking her up in his arms and twirling her around. "I can't believe you're here!" He exclaimed before a confused look settled on his face. "Wait... why are you here?"

His girlfriend gave him a sheepish grin. "There's something I need to tell you."

Fred sat back, stunned. "Sirius is your dad?"

"Sirius Black?" George echoed.

"Yes, Sirius Black is my father." Y/N confirmed.

"But, how?" Fred blistered.

"Well, you see, when a man and a woman - " George began.

"Shut up, George," Fred cut his eyes over at his twin. "I know how," he looked back at Y/N. "But, you know... how?"

Y/N had to stifle a grin. "It's a long story, but suffice it to say, my mum isn't in the picture. My Uncle Mooney took care of me while dad was in Azkaban."

"Wow... " George marveled.

"Why did you tell me?" Fred asked.

"I had to keep it secret. Dad's on the run. Death Eaters are everywhere, and we're starting the Order back up."

"The order?" Her boyfriend looked excited at the prospect. "The Order of the Phoenix?"

"Yep," she confirmed. "With Death Eaters crawling out of the woodwork again, not to mention the possibility that Voldy could come back if he hasn't already, they thought it be a good idea to revive it. And Grimmauld Place will be the headquarters this time around."

"Wicked," Fred replied. "So, my girlfriend is in league with infamous Order of the Phoenix."

Y/N laughed. "I don't know if I'd go so far as to say that. But, yeah, kinda."

"Well," George clapped his hands on his lap and stood. "That's all I need to know right now to know this is going to be an awesome Christmas." He looked at Y/N. "Just a suggestion. You might wanna wait until Harry gets here to get into the fine details. That way, you don't have to tell it twice."

Y/N nodded. "Yeah, good idea."

George grinned. "Well, I'm gonna go find something to eat and let you two catch up."

Once George was gone, Y/N scooted closer to Fred. "I'm glad we get to spend Christmas together after all."

"Me too," he smiled. "It's been a rough couple of weeks."

"I'm really glad to see you're dad's doing better. I was really worried about him."

"So, was I," Fred admitted, his cheeks growing hot. "I - I really missed you being there with me."

Y/N smiled, pretending she didn't notice the lovely blush rise up across his cheeks and pulled him closer. "Well, I'm here with you now."

"I'm glad," Fred gave a small grin and looked down, trying to hide the stubborn crimson that'd taken up residence on his face.

"But, you know," Y/N continued. "You're failing in your duties as a good boyfriend."

"What?" Fred looked up, eyes wide.

"You've been here for a whole half hour, and you haven't kissed me once."

"Oh dear, you're right," he sat up straight, and his usual, confident cockiness came roaring back. "I must do something about that immediately."

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @charmedfandomgal @loveosewood @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @lizzytrees @spididerman

#fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #hp fandom #hp universe

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suugarbabe · 6 months

Text

Forget Me Not (4)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Word Count: 3k

Warning: fluff

an: not proofread; this is the LAST chapter, it's been fun writing this mini series as it started as just a prompt for a one shot, hope you've all enjoyed :)

Throughout breakfast you and Fred kept peeking at each other like teenagers with a secret. Hermione tried to engage you in some conversation but you found yourself increasingly distracted as Fred’s hand found solace on the inside of your thigh, rubbing soothing paths over your skin with his thumb.

Once Molly allowed everyone to be finished eating, Fred grabbed your head, leading you outside and toward the garden. The motion caused a few eyebrow raises at the table, then eyes to land on George. Without looking up from his plate George simply stated, “They made out this morning.” Ron nearly choked on his breakfast sausage.

Once in the garden, Fred led you to the old iron bench, fit with handmade cushions by Molly. When you both approached the bench Fred picked you up bridal, making you squeal. Fred turned you both around before sitting down on the bench, your legs bent over his lap.

You couldn’t contain the smile that spread over your face and Fred took notice, “Is that how this usually goes, have we talked here before?” You nodded, looking away towards the flowers, “You…used to…” you trailed off. Fred cupped your cheek, turning you to face him, “I know, darling. I…when we came out here, I just…knew that I used to do it, that it would bring that smile to your face.”

You couldn’t help yourself, too overcome with emotion, with love, that you did it before you could stop yourself, leaned in and…kissed him. To your delight there was no hesitation from Fred, his lips instantly responding to yours, seemingly melding together like they’ve done on countless occasions.

It was slow, like Fred was trying to memorize your all over again, or remembering you. When your lungs were screaming at you, you finally pulled away, “Sorry, Freddie, I just-” Fred cut you off with a shake of your head, “S’okay, love. Trust me,” he gave you another quick peck on the lips, “I don’t mind one bit. Now tell me the story of how we met, when we started dating, would love to hear your perspective.”

You smiled, “Do you wanna hear how we met or when I first noticed you?” Fred quirked an eyebrow, “Are they two separate occasions, love?” You bit your lip, nodding. Fred smiled, pulling your bottom lip from your teeth, “Then tell me both, beautiful.”

Fred smiled at how animated you spoke, how you talked about seeing him first in charms class, how he and George tried to confuse professor Flitwick by pretending to be each other. How you thought he was just so funny and you wanted so desperately to be friends with him.

He was shocked that it took you another year before you finally approached him, as bold and confident as you seemed to him now. When you told the story about how you finally approached him, describing watching him and George trying to prank Filch he could recall what you were describing. He could remember leaning around the pillar, waiting on Filch’s reaction, and he could remember when it didn’t go as planned, the exploding potion not exploding.

“So, after you and George horribly failed-”

Fred cut you off without thinking, eyes staring straight ahead like he was seeing it all over again in his head, “You came skipping down the hall, brilliant smile on your face. You told us that we obviously added the sneezewort too late, ‘if we remembered at all’. I was highly impressed, then asked you your name.”

Your mouth hung open in shock, “Freddie, how did you…” Fred shook his head, laughing as he spoke, “Dunno just, you started talking about it and it all came rushing back. Merlin you were a little cutie back then weren’t you?” He teased you, poking your side.

You grabbed his wrist, “Fred Gideon, do not.” Fred’s smile widened at your giggles, “Godric, I love that sound, don’t know how I ever forgot it. Now tell me how we started dating, maybe it’ll come back to me like the other story did. I’d really love to see how red your cheeks got when I finally made it official.” Fred planted a wet, sloppy kiss to your cheek, and you were a laughing mess again.

“Okay, okay,” you laughed again, wiping his remaining spit from your cheek. “We were at the black lake,” when you started your story Fred closed his eyes. He wanted to try to picture the narrative you told, see if he was able to see what you were describing or if it was all a blur like every other time he tried to remember you alone.

As you started speaking Fred saw the lake, could see the ripples in the water, could feel his arms wrapped around you and the weight of you against his chest, he smiled to himself. “We had been sitting out there for a few hours, you and George had somehow convinced a few first years that if they got close enough that the squid would try and pick them up and swing them around.

Fred smiled to himself, remembering telling a set of first years those exact words, then waiting to see if any of them would listen. As you spoke he started seeing it all, you scolding him and George for trying to trick them, you telling George to go tell the first years they were kidding.

Then you started to describe how Fred started to actually ask you out, how nervous you felt when he said he wanted to ask you something, that you were hoping he would ask you to officially be his girlfriend but that you didn’t want to assume anything. Which looking back, Fred thought was just silly. From what he was starting to remember, he’s always been head over heels for you, always chasing you, wanting to be near you.

When you started to recall the exact words Fred used, he cut you off, “I made you turn around so that you were facing me, so that I could look into your eyes when I asked. I still held your hands, because I felt like if we weren’t touching you were somehow going to disappear because there was no way I was that lucky for someone like you to even remotely feel the same towards me.

“I was so nervous that once I’d ask you’d say no, tell me I was crazy or something,” he opened his eyes to look at you, seeing tears brimming on yours, “but now I don’t know how I was ever crazy enough to forget. I looked at you, just like this, and I said, ‘Y/n, I don’t want to be your friend anymore, I don’t want to cuddle on the couches with you after class or watch you get hit on by other guys or contemplate going to Hogsmead with someone else. I want you to be mine, and only mine, so Y/n, would you please do me the honor of allowing me to call you my girlfriend.”

You laughed, not believing he was able to recall his exact words, “and then you hit me, like really hard, y/n. Pretty sure you bruised my arm for a week.” You rolled your eyes at him, “Yeah well who starts that whole thing with ‘I don’t want to be your friend anymore’? I thought you were about to tell me you hated me!”

It was Fred’s turn to laugh, “Oh, darling, I could never hate you. I can’t think of any feeling I have for you but love.” You rolled your eyes again, “Okay cheeseball.” Fred cupped your face, smirking, “I am a cheeseball, so give me a cheesy kiss.” And so you did, grabbing hold of the back of his neck and crashing your lips to his, breathing him in like he was oxygen and you’ve been deprived for months, because essentially you had.

You knew you and Fred were getting carried away when you heard Ron coming up behind you, “Oi! If you two can stop snogging for ten minutes, mum has tea ready!” You pulled away, an unwavering smile plastered on your face.

When you and Fred joined the others in the kitchen, he immediately started telling everyone what he remembered, how much better he felt and that he felt like he was going to be able to remember everything without much issues soon.

And he was nearly right, except for one thing. Which is what led to the frustrating conversation he was having with George in their room while you took a nap on the couch.

“Georgie, you’re absolutely sure I never told you how I was going to ask her?” Fred was lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and tugging on his hair.

George just shook his head, “No, mate, m’sorry. Every time I asked you said that I was going to get too excited and tell her before you were ready.”

Fred let out a frustrated sigh, “Well can you help me plan it this time then? I want it to be absolutely perfect, something neither of us could forget, no matter what happens.”

His brother smiled, nodding his head, “Sure, Freddie. Anything.”

—--------

Two weeks later, you’re giggling while holding Fred’s hands that were covering your eyes as you tried not to trip while he guided you to wherever you were going. “Almost, there, darling, promise. Just a little further,” Fred’s voice was gentle against the shell of your ear, but you could still hear the smile breaking out on his face, “and…we’re here.”

When Fred finally removed his hands, all the breath left your lungs. The sight in front of you was one made for a muggle movie. Fred had enchanted fairy lights to hang around the garden, the flowers in it seemingly bloomed ten fold over night and now included your favorite flowers.

In front of the bench you two usually shared together was a blanket, the one you had made him for your first Christmas together. During fall holiday you had asked Molly to teach you how to knit and she was more than happy to oblige. You had worked the next two months on making the blanket for him. You thought it had turned out shit, but Fred slept with it every night since the moment you gave it to him.

Spread out on the blanket was an assortment of biscuits and a tea set in the middle. You turned towards Fred, lacing your fingers in his, “Did you bring me here for a tea party, Freddie?” You bit your lip to suppress your smirk from spreading.

Fred lifted his hand that wasn’t in yours, pulling your bottom lip from your teeth before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, “Thought we’d have a romantic evening cuppa, whadya think, lovie?” You nod, smiling, tugging Fred along with you toward the blanket before pulling him down with you as you sit.

As you sit you both talk about your days, Fred telling you about new products he and George are thinking about developing for the joke shop. He’s eager to get your input, the last two weeks since your discussion in this very spot bringing back most of his memories.

He couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face as you spoke, memories of you helping him and George when they first had ideas for their products back in school, you helping them market different ones to the girls versus the boys, always being strategic. He hoped that your observant manner didn’t ruined what he had actually planned for this little evening picnic.

You told him you were thinking about applying to St. Mungo’s and Fred made a joke saying it would be perfect for you given how well you mended him after the battle. You pushed his shoulder, not being able to help joking that you “might have missed a few screws in his brain”.

As you finished your tea, you could see Fred start to get nervous, start fidgeting with his hands and grabbing at his pocket. You sat up a little straighter, tucking your feet under you, “Y’alright, Freddie?” It wasn’t rare to see him like this since the battle, but they had become more scarce since he started remembering things. You were hoping you didn’t make him nervous with your plans, hoped that he knew you would always be with him no matter where life took the both of you.

Fred nodded in answer to your question, “M’alright, lovie, just…I’ve been wanting to say something to you for a while now, s’just…I had forgotten because well… you know.” Fred let out a nervous laugh and you smiled, nodding for him to continue. “S’just, I’m a little nervous so bare with me, ‘kay?”

Fred reached out to grab your hand and you gladly let him, giving his hand a light squeeze for encouragement. “I love you so much, darling. And…I’ll never forgive myself for ever forgetting how important you are to me. And I know it wasn’t technically my fault,” Fred held his hand up, smiling as he silently cut off what he was sure was going to be protests from you, which he was right, “but forgetting you and the love we shared was one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through.”

“I don’t want you to ever have to go through something like that again, to ever have to doubt if I love you, if I want you in my life or if we’re going to be together because if I have my way, we’ll be together for the rest of our lives.”

You smiled, trying to hide the tears that were brimming, “Oh, Freddie, I love you so much, I’m not going anywhere, you know that don’t you?”

Fred nodded, “I know, darling. I know,” he lifted your hand that was in his, kissing your knuckles, “I just want to make it official if that’s alright with you.” Confusion was clearly written on your face for a moment, before it turned into pure shock as Fred got up to one knee, digging in his pocket.

Fred couldn’t help the slight smirk that appeared on his face as your reaction, as it was exactly what he was hoping for. As he opened the box from his pocket, displaying the most beautiful Ruby ring wrapped in gold accents, he had your full attention.

“My darling love, Y/n. I have loved you since I’ve first known you, since that moment in the halls when you corrected me. I knew then, even at the age of twelve, that without you there’d always be something missing. You are meant for me, and I you; so much so that not even the darkest of curses can keep us from finding our love for one another again. I didn’t say your last name at the start because if you would do me the honors, nothing would make me a happier man than to get to call you Mrs. Weasley. So, Y/n, will you, erm, Merlin I’m so nervous,” he let out a small laugh, “Y/n will you marry me?”

You couldn’t help but launch yourself into Fred’s lap, smashing your lips onto his with so much heated passion that his only immediate reaction was to giggle against your lips. You pulled back, kissing his lips over and over, “Yes,” kiss, “Yes, Freddie,” kiss, “a thousand million trillion times yes.”

You leaned back enough for Fred to take the ring from the box and slide it on to your left hand. You couldn’t help the giddy giggle that left your lips as he did so. He held your face in his hands, thumbs tracing over your cheek bones as he spoke, “I love you so much.”

At that moment fireworks started to explode above you, catching your attention. Beautiful colors of hearts and flowers along with yours and Fred’s initials and a cheesy “together forever” in fiery colors. Soon you weren’t alone, as George and Ron came barreling over the hedge toward the both of you.

“We assumed the kissing meant she said yes,” Ron was grinning, eyebrows raised. You laughed out loud, “Yes, Ronald, you’re stuck with me forever.” You spoke as you held your left hand up and wiggled your fingers.

George lifted you off his twin, engulfing you in a bone-crushing hug, “More like you’re stuck with me forever, Ducky. I’m so happy for you two.” “Thank you, Georgie. For everything.” You feld George nod, not needing to say anything more.

The rest of the family came out, Harry and Hermione included, giving you both congratulations. As you spoke with Hermione and Ginny, the former spouting all the different ways she could start helping you plan, you peaked over their shoulders at Fred.

Fred held up a finger to his brothers, excusing himself before coming up to you, “Sorry, Gin, Mione, mind if I steal my Fiancee from you both for a moment?” They both smiled giddily, nodding their heads.

“Fiancee, I’m definitely going to have to get used to that,” you spoke with a grin. Fred nodded along with you, dragging you back towards the burrow. “Where we going now, Freddie?” you asked curiously. Fred had a mischievous grin on his face, “Just going back to my room, thought maybe we could…celebrate?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

You smacked his shoulder, “Fred Gideon, you dirty minded man.” Fred couldn’t help but laugh, “C’mon now, lovie. Let’s go christen our new titles, hmm?”

taglist: @Words-are-cheap @l0ulistens @reallysparklychaos @df841 @rhahghbs @delfonicstheme-blog @marvelsbitchh @slytherclaw @football1921 @marvelpotter

#forget me not series #forget me not final chapter #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley fic

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starstruckwillows · 1 year

Text

♡ try again - f.w ♡

requested by @reasontobebeautiful <3

fred weasley x slytherin!reader, pureblood!reader, platonic!sirius black x reader, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, swearing

sirius black ensuring fred weasley doesn't make the same mistakes he saw many war-stricken kids make

there’d been a cruel edge to his words that he hadn’t quite meant.

fred’s scathing indictment of your family wasn’t any different to the things you usually said about your kin, and it didn’t bother you for others to agree. but to be part of that perception was probably your worst fear.

you’d been so excited turning up at the doorstep of grimmauld place, suitcase in hand, bright beam gracing your face.

fred had frowned. he’d been ignoring the way your smile made him feel for a long time.

“why are we having death-eaters round for christmas dinner?”

molly had scolded her son then, “george! i mean, fred!”

he’d rolled his eyes, mumbling, “might as well get her whole family out and kill some muggles for the christmas spirit.”

it was the association. your family were one way, you must be too.

maybe that’s how it was for the weasleys, at least four generations of ginger gryffindors shooting for the stars in their respective fields. ministry, dragons, pranks, quidditch.

maybe that’s how it looked for you, at least four generations of slytherins serving whichever tyrannical supremacist reigned at the time.

you found a lot of your time was spent trying to convince people that wasn’t you. but gina lomotey, whose dad had once punched professor snape, didn’t have to walk around assuring people she didn’t attack teachers. and kosi berry, whose parents had a short lived music career, never had to explain she had no interest in singing.

reene west’s mum hijacked a broom race, ford green’s dad did a stint in muggle prison, carson denny’s eldest brother lived full time in st mungos due to an unhealthy obsession with lions.

none of them faced half the crap you did for their bloodlines.

sirius had come to see you, heard you vent about this once again.

“and it’s almost like... i mean i’m not saying you had it easier, you didn’t, it was worse for you in different ways. but, it’s like i have to work so hard to prove i don’t have my families prejudice, because i am a slytherin. you had the argument of a different house to help your case, in school anyway. but i wear the same colour robes my family did, so people never believe me.”

somehow your feelings for fred were brought to the surface of the conversation. maybe that’s what made it harder.

“i’m so tired of having to make them believe me. i’m not a bad person.”

so you didn’t grovel, and try to prove your innocence, because you were well and truly tired of being pre-judged. it wasn’t as if the two of you met on a battlefield. sirius had invited you here. dumbledore approved, he trusted you. you’d never given fred a reason to dislike you.

the boy in question, banished to the other side of the house by his own anger (and shame), was glowering at a wall.

his mum told him his response had been impolite. george told him he was smack out of line.

he knew they were right.

especially when sirius, a man fred had got on with well, had knocked on the door, greeting him with a slight scowl.

“i want you to apologize.”

no beating around the bush.

“i’m not sorry.” lie. you sound like a petulant child.

“yes you are.”

fred blinked.

“i am old enough to recognize the feelings of teenagers. i spent seven years watching my friends fall in and out and in again with love. i watched james pine for lily, i watched them fight. i watched marlene and dorcas take five years to get over their differences.”

fred jested, "sounds creepy.”

sirius smiled, but continued his story, “do you know what marlene and dorcas’ main difference was?"

he shrugged.

“marlene was a gryffindor, dorcas a slytherin, and it took them a good fraction of their lives to move past that. they died young. they spent more time denying their feelings for a school, house rivarly, than the time they got to spend loving each other. we’re approaching a war again, kid. don’t repeat their mistakes. take it from me.”

fred remained uncharacteristically silent for a few minutes, and although it was unsettling, sirius stayed. it was clear the boy had questions.

“your family were death-eaters.”

sirius nodded.

“but they rejected you, for being in the wrong house.”

“correct.”

“if... you’d been a slytherin, and they accepted you... would you have rebelled? or would you have become a death-eater.”

sirius shrugged, “i know why you’re asking, but i have no answer for you. if i was in a different house, i would have a different character, and any alternate character would mean very different decisions. all i can tell you is i know her. you don’t, yet. she is not her bloodline. she's cunning, and ambitious, but her ambition is not to participate in genocide. talk to her. you might be surprised at what you find.”

fred had made up his mind. sirius was right, and he wanted to know you. he wanted to see your stupidly pretty smile, he wanted to cause it, and he wanted to know your favourite things. he wanted to know what made you feel, what made you sleep. he wanted to talk to you.

which proved incessantly difficult, because you were avoiding him like dragonpox. every once in a while, he would catch your eye and you'd blink rapidly before looking away, fiddling with your sleeves.

christmas day rolled around a few days on, and fred still had yet to successfully get you alone. as everyone begun unwrapping their presents, he was only staring at you, waiting for a reaction, hoping you'd know the unlabelled gift was from him.

you did, eyes widening and shooting up to find him in the room, visibly taken aback.

“do you like it?” he mouthed, tilting his head as the firm grip of insecurity tightened his chest.

with your lips slightly parted in surprise, you nodded your head. the same feeling lay at the base of your heart, wondering if it was going to turn out to be a prank.

he jerked his chin towards the kitchen, question in his eyes, and tried to not take your hesitation to heart. especially as you stood up and walked his line of sight. when he was sure nobody else was paying attention, he followed you.

“hey...” he rubbed the back of his neck, the awkwardness between you heavy in the air.

but fred was fred and he still kept eye contact, a steady voice, an easy stance.

“i’m sorry.”

you shrug, “okay.”

the word is uttered so nonchalantly, as though your stomach wasn’t erupting with unruly butterflies.

“do you... could you forgive me?”

“maybe. if you mean it.”

he nodded, “i do. i’d like to know you, actually know you, not think i do.”

“i’d like that.”

—

taglist:

@anordinarymuse @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kingshitonly

#starstruckwillows #golden trio era #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #slytherin!reader #pureblood!reader #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #fred weasley hurt/comfort #htc #fred weasley x pureblood!reader #platonic!sirius black x reader #sirius black #platonic!sirius black

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slayingqueenchal · 1 year

Note

fred x dyslexic reader

the reader in having a hard time in english( reading something) and fred helps

I just got diagnosed and wanted comfort

Here, ill help you | fred weasley x f!dyslexic!reader

Summary : you had a hard time reading so fred helps you read

Warning : fluff, petnames like 'love'

Notes : im not diagnosed with dyslexia but I'm sure I'm dyslexic, and also my cousin was diagnosed with dyslexia so this is inspired by her chats 😭😭

"Freddie, how in the world did laurie felt to the right? " You said, sighing at your beaten up copy of little women.

Fred moves his chair closer to yours, and said "love, laurie fell to the right" Leaving you with an oh.

That was the first time you Were bad at reading. You couldve swore that it said laurie felt to the right, but, when Fred reads it, it suddenly changes.

This also happens in class quite often, which snape loves. Snape love making fun of you reading the wrong thing, and he purposely make you read the most.

Sure most people are fine with it, but, you've mistaken words so much that when Snape makes fun of you, the whole class laughed ; except for Fred.

Even if Fred's a bit annoyed, he'll be nice. It became a common thing, that Fred sit next to you, and when you were told to read, he whispers what the book says.

Some muggleborns told you that you were what muggle call dyslexic,

"Dys- Dys what? " You said, "dyslexia, it's when.. Someone have a hard time reading, even in their first language" The muggleborn said.

That day on, you've learnt to accept it. But sometimes it can be tough.

"Fred, are you seeing this, meg is eating.. The desert? " You said, showing him your book. "Love.." Fred chuckles, "it's meg eating dessert, you know, the cakes and the ice creams? " .

"Oh" You realized. It was always the words being.. Magic? Once someone sees it it's different. But, Fred is fine with it. And, most of the time you give up reading any book, but, Fred makes you a little study and reading session, because the girl who told you you were dyslexic told him you were dyslexic. Although Fred doesn't know what dyslexia is, he cared for you, and he proved it.

Every evening, Fred reads you everything you're going to learn tommorow. "So, you need one vial of-- love? " He said, looking at you.

Your soft snores, and closed eyes, were beautiful to him. "Someone is sleepy" Fred grins, "I love you"

",'ove 'ou too" You snuggled up in his hands, ready to sleep.

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queerpumpkinnn · 2 years

Note

Hi!! Is it at all possible to request a Fred Weasley x reader please? Set in the order of the phoenix where umbridge is the professor and she implements the rule of “boys and girls must not be within 8 inches of each other” (I think it’s something like that) Fred and the reader sneak around and find ways of getting around this rule ;) A mixture of fluff and smut if that’s okay? Thank you! Xx

Yes love, thank you so much for requesting! I'm so sorry this took so long. This is such an adorable prompt and I loved writing it! I hope I made it to your liking!

Touch Deprivation

2.4k words

Summary: The above request, basically

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Content warnings: Umbridge being a bitch, fingering, pet names, slight possessive kink if you squint, lots of physical touch

While reading, I recommend you listen to secret hiding spot kinda love - a Spotify playlist by me!

You were always a quite tactile person, however selective you may be when it comes to with whom you share prolonged touch.

So when the most wretched teacher ever to roam the earth becomes part of yours and your boyfriend's daily lives, you had to figure out more clever ways to work around it.

Hiding in the library came to be one of your favorite alternatives, finding a small corner in a section from which few people would read. This is where the two of you sat now- on the floor, leaned up against the wall and on each other. Your head rest perfectly in the crook between Fred's collar and jaw, and his hands were playing mindlessly with one of yours. You were regaling him with a story you'd been told by one of your friends when you heard a voice you had come to despise with a fiery passion- the shrill, sugar-coated trill of Dolores Umbridge.

Fred groaned, his head falling back. When it flopped back, he tapped your shoulder, signaling that you needed to move.

"I don't want to." You whined. "Let the old bat put us in detention, I don't care at this point."

He chuckled at the irony of your statement. His mind was thinking exactly what she was saying. "I know, neither do I, but I'm not letting you land detention."

You gave him a look, but agreed with a sigh, heaving to your feet to move to sit at one of the desks lining the shelves, your schoolwork set out ahead of time so that you appeared to actually be working should she pass by. Fred shuffled to the other side of the bookstack just as the bullfrog of a woman strutted by, pink claws folded neatly over her wand and lips pursed. You pretended to be reading your textbook, watching her subtly through peripheral vision. She glanced over at you, but said nothing and continued walking.

You waited until the even click of her heels faded from the library. You exhaled the breath you weren't aware you had held in. There was a shuffle of robes, and a head sporting a tangerine mop of hair and mischievous eyes popped out from the end of the bookstack. Fred's head seemed to float, as the rest of his body was hidden. You giggled, standing up from the desk as his body joined his head and headed towards you.

"Now, where were we?" He cooed, wrapping his arms around your body, his hands joined on your lower back.

You rested your forehead on his chest, taking note of his heartbeat for a few moments. "How long are we going to have to keep sneaking around like this?"

He sighed. "I don't know. But we'll get through it, yeah? Once we graduate we won't have to worry about it." He cupped your face, kissing your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you too."

. . .

Although he did make the effort to avoid landing you in detention, he couldn't care less if he landed himself. Neither did he care to stop sneaking around with you. And knowing Fred, it was always at the most random times.

One chilly December evening, about a half hour before student curfew, you found yourself heading through the dimly lit corridor towards your common room. There were only a few students here and there, considering Christmas break had just begun, but the hallway was pretty much empty. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary until you found yourself being yanked back, your captor placing one hand over your mouth and the other around your waist, dragging you into a dark and tiny room. A broom closet, you noticed. Once the hand was pulled from your face you inhaled a familiar, musky scent. One you had become very familiar with: the smell of-

"Fred Weasley!" You hissed, turning around. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark just well enough to see the outline of the grinning boy.

"That's right." He paid no heed to your shock.

You immediately began smacking him on the shoulder. "Don't. Ever. Do. That. Again!"

Fred had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing at your feeble attempt to scold him. "Okay, okay, okay! Merlin, feisty thing, aren't you?"

You simply folded your arms and glared at him. You'd long forgiven him, so he knew there was no real anger behind your eyes.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry, love." Fred wrapped his arms around you. He still wore his signature grin as he murmured, "Can you forgive me?"

You fiddled with the collar of his robes. "I suppose so." You grumbled, though you couldn't help the smile tugging your lips thinner.

"Good." And he kissed you, gently and full of love. You responded quickly, tugging on his robes to bring him closer. Your pulling him closer always seemed to light a fire in him, eliciting a more desperate and aggressive manner. He cupped the back of your neck, his other hand slithering up your waist.

The moment created somewhat of a fog in your brain, so full of need for him. So it was understandable, the surprise in you when Fred suddenly pulled away, stopped for a second as if listening, then turned his head back and forth frantically as if looking for something, his hair flopping against his cheeks in a quite doglike manner.

"Fred, what-"

"Quick, hide." He ushered you into a nook in the corner of the closet, throwing a few items from a Quidditch uniform over your hunched figure and further hiding you by propping a few brooms up against you carefully.

Just as he had finished, the door to the closet had opened. Even behind the cloth you could see warm light flooding the small room, and hear a familiar clack of heels stepping furiously.

"Mister Weasley! I should have known. Step out of the closet this instant!" Came the bark of none other than Dolores Umbridge.

You remained as still as possible, though you couldn't help the pang of guilt. He spent all his time hiding you, because he knew he couldn't hide the both of you in time. You listened to the sound of receding footsteps and the teacher's scolding.

When you heard nothing, you tentatively stood, ensuring that the brooms did not fall outward and make noise. You removed the Quidditch robes (thank Godric they had been cleaned) and checked your watch. You still had ten minutes to get to the common room. You tiptoed out, falling into as casual of a stride as you could muster once you were far enough away from the crime scene.

Damn it Fred.

. . .

It had been three days later, and Fred was currently serving detention with Professor McGonagall. You were grateful that she was the head of Gryffindor house and thus in charge of deciding his punishment- though she was no less strict, she was kinder.

You were up in your dormitory, sprawled out on the bed reading one of your favorite muggle fiction books. It was unusually quiet, since your dormmates had all gone home. While you wanted to relish in the quiet and your book, your brain seemed to wander over to Fred with every other page.

Just as the boy crossed your mind for the umpteenth time, a knock on your window startled you. You almost threw the book across the room in fright. It only took a split second to figure out who it was. You hurriedly dog-eared your page and slammed it shut, marching over to the window and seeing a familiar, lanky Beater wearing not enough clothing for the frigid December and a smile.

You rolled your eyes and stepped aside so that he might float into the room. After having closed the door, you turned to him. Your annoyance melted away and was replaced with a pitying worry at the sight of him. He was shivering, a jumper and jeans not enough to shield him from the cold. His pale face was a stark contrast to the pink tinting his cheeks and nose.

"Come here." You pulled him by the hand to sit on the bed, covering his figure in a blanket. "You really couldn't have come in any other way?"

He shrugged. "Well, no. All of the doors are spelled so that Umbridge can monitor who comes and leaves where. That's how she found us out so quickly. But she didn't check the windows." He winked.

You chewed your lip for a moment. "How'd she not suspect I was there too?"

He shrugged again. "I'm a Quidditch player in the closet where she keeps all the brooms locked up. That's enough of a coincidence that I suppose she didn't need anything else." He glanced over at you, noting the worry and guilt in your eyes. "Hey, it's okay. McGonagall was nice to me this time, I'm all right."

"I know." You flopped onto your back, the bed bouncing underneath your weight. "It's just not an ideal circumstance."

"It isn't" He agreed. "But I'm here now, aren't I?"

You nodded.

"Then everything's going to be all right." He grinned, shifting so that he was hovering over you a bit more. "Now, where were we?"

You laughed as he started giving lazy kisses to your neck. "'S that all you came here to do?"

He looked up, a gleam of humor in his eyes. "'Course not. But I always finish what I start."

His mouth found yours, kissing with just as much if not more adoration and fervor than when the two of you were in the broom closet. His fingers tugged at your waist, setting your skin on fire with the contrast of heat. Though he'd warmed up quickly, his hands were still a bit cold.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" He mumbled, back to mouthing at your neck, down to your collarbone.

"Yes, but you could stand to say it more." You spoke softly, smiling.

He chuckled, fingers toying with the drawstrings of your sweatpants. "Godric, I love you. I love you so much."

"I love you too." You breathed, running your hands up his arms to his shoulders. You couldn't deny that you loved those arms, toned from hours and hours of Beating practice. You felt a tap on your hip, signaling for you to lift them. Obliging, Fred dragged the sweatpants down your legs, hooking your underwear along with it so your lower half was entirely naked to him.

Fred stared at you for a while, making you nervous under his eyes. "Gorgeous," he muttered, partially to himself, before grasping the flesh of your thighs with each hand, kneading for a moment before pulling them apart. He seemed more touchy than usual, fingers splayed so as to touch as much of you at once as he could.

Fred was always fascinated with your thighs. His hands always lay there when he went down on you and even outside of the bedroom he liked to squeeze your thigh affectionately or lay on them.

"Look at how pretty you are, pet. All laid out and spread open." With hooded eyes still holding contact with yours, you felt one hand slither closer and closer to where you ached for him.

"Only for you." These three words made his teasing hand lose patience, and suddenly he was cupping your pussy, running an index finger through your slick. Your back arched at the sensation, hips lifting up the bed to follow his motion.

"Only for me, hm? Is that right?"

You nodded, not being able to open your mouth on account of knowing that you'd be so embarrassingly whiny if you had. His fingertip was circling the rim of your cunt, just enough to stimulate you but so slowly and shallowly that it wasn't enough.

"Words, love." Fred's hand stilled.

"Yes, yes, only for you." You breathed, pitch rising. When he heard this, he dipped his finger in your cunt with ease, curling and massaging that one spot that had moans being coaxed out of you.

"That's right, sweet thing." He groaned in your ear. "Such a good girl, yeah?"

"Mhm." Was all you could muster, stuttered when he added a second finger. The stretch had your eyes rolling back.

His thumb finding your clit, however, was what really did it for you. As soon as he began rubbing circles into you, you had to slap your hand over your mouth to keep from being so loud.

Naturally, Fred wasn't having that. "Hand off, sweetheart. I want to hear your pretty moans loud and clear." His free hand left its place massaging your ass up to your hand, gently tugging your wrist.

You were hesitant, brain foggy as your high was building quickly. Nonetheless you let him pull your hand down, still distracted by what his other hand was doing. You were just on the brink, getting louder and fuzzier until it- or rather, you- came. Your body was overwhelmed at the sensation, throbbing and weeping cunt spasming around his fingers, which worked you through your high. Both hands wrapped around his wrist in instinct, a small fear from previous endeavors that he would pull away before you came. Your eyes were screwed shut, the only thing comprehensible was the intense pleasure radiating from your core and the sweet things Fred was muttering to you.

"There you go, let go f'me pretty girl. Did so good." He whispered, kissing your temple.

When the pleasure had subsided and been replaced with overstimulation, you squirmed and pushed his hand away. You took a second to breathe, watching through half-open eyes as Fred licked his dripping fingers clean.

Just watching him do that was a sight in and of itself. Shakily, you tried to sit up.

"Your turn," you told him, fumbling with the button of his jeans. Were his pants always this difficult to open?

Noticing your blurry state, he chuckled, pulling you back. "Hey, hey. You're sleepy, you don't have to."

You pouted. "But I want to."

He kissed your nose. "I know. And I'll be glad to let you in the morning, when you've rested. You're too fucked out right now, bunny."

You huffed, but secretly thanked him. He pecked your nose again before leaving and coming back with a small towel soaked in warm water. You allowed him to clean you, already becoming bleary and heavy.

By the time he had gotten back and crawled under the covers, you were barely conscious. The last thing you registered was a kiss on the top of your head and a sweet "goodnight".

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cherry-pop-elf · 3 months

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Weasley Siblings React To Their Partner Who Age Regresses

Now I myself do not age regress, but I may be trying it out! To help cope with trauma. There is something so comforting about it, so some cute and pure fluff!

((Also, people in the agere community, hi! You are valid, real, and loved. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It’ll be ok, sug!

Writing Commissions open

William ‘Bill’

He doesn’t really fine it odd. He’s been through multiple tips of therapies, as he is a curse breaker. Curse breakers need to make sure their minds remain sharp, and clear, so they have to keep mental health a priority. There is also the fact he was attacked by a werewolf, so he’s been through even more. And lastly, he is the eldest sibling to six. That means when you go into his little space you are in safe hands. He will make sure you are very safe, and taken care of. It comes naturally to him. He doesn’t really need to know a thing, because his body just knows. He knows what to do. Given his werewolf quirks as well you get to have a boyfriend that can sense your needs far easier. So when you need your care giver, he’s already holding you close. Also, well, big puppy stuffy.

Charlie

He’s also an older brother, and works with infant dragons all the time. So dealing with someone who goes into a little space isn’t as difficult as you would think. He is rather curious by it all, however. Not weirded out, but curious. He’s a man that’s traveled the world, somehow more so than the likes of Bill. It’s dumb to not live life with an open mind. He’s willing to learn, and wants to take care of you. You develope a rather maternal nature, when you work with new borns all the time. It’ll be nice to have a more human little to work with. Given his strength, and warmth, he makes for a wonderful cuddle bug. He makes you feel so small, with how easy he can pick you up. It helps you drift into your little space alot easier, and doesn’t feel as weird. Just into his arms you go, and you know you couldn’t be safer

Percy

He’s found it very strange. He’s always been very prissy and uptight, after all. What do you mean you just act like a child? Fred and George do that already! He’s honestly a big ass about it, until Bill pulls him aside. Trying to explain it more properly to him, before he goes and says something he will regret. It takes a while, but he’s soon reading up on it. Might as well learn about it. That’s kinda how it started, really. You would come to him, when you needed your moment, and he would read you stories. He won’t lie, it was comforting. Reminded him of when he helped teach his younger siblings how read. Maybe there is something to this age regression thing. There’s a weird comfort. How he can just take care of you, and you trust him enough to know he will. It takes a while, but he is willing to learn. For you

Fred

He runs a joke shop. If anyone is going to know how to handle a kid, it’s him. Also, older brother quirks. Doesn’t really phase him either. You act younger sometimes? Don’t we all? He’s going to be the best care giver. Especially since he did mature a bit, from running a shop. So don’t think you weaseled your way into endless candy. Can’t have his precious kiddo sick! As being a bit more mature, he also has things a bit more calculated. A designated toy box’s to keep your kid stuff secure, and private. Willing to drop everything if you need him. Even happily have you play with your toys, in his office, as he works. Very much taking on a very solid dad role. Wouldn’t be to surprising if he knew about age regression before he met you. He likes to keep up to date with the kids, so he can better care for them. Such as what products they would like. He’s calculated, but not like a robot. Like an actual dad, wanting the best for his kids after all. You included. Oh and don’t you dare forget, they are two for one. Uncle George is going to steal you, when Fred needs to work. Never fear!

George

Much like his twin, you are in safe hands. However, he has a bit more of an emotional approach. He likes to be a bit more hands on with it all. The type to make you chocolate chip pancakes in the morning, and always have a bottle of apple juice ready. He took on the food love from his mother. So you are given plenty of sweet snacks for every occasion. Always finding a way to make sure you meet your nutrient needs, even when small. That way you stay healthy, but not sacrifice the things you love. He knows how that can mess with you. Especially after losing Fred. So, to take care of someone is helping him take care of himself. The ability to just take time out of his day, and be with you, it’s healing. It really is. Your bravery in admiting to this is helping him live such a better life. Just able to hold you, and know that he can protect you. He couldn’t save Fred, but he was able to save you

Ron

Hope you don’t mind, but his ass went running to Hermione for advice. She’s the smartest person he knows. If anyone knows anything about anything, it’s her. He finds it a bit confusing, but Hermione does a beautiful job in explaining it to him. Such as how his brothers do certain things to cope, or do things different because of trauma and stress. You were the same. That helps him figure it out better. Still, it’s a bit complicated for him. He’s worried about messing up, because you are in a rather vulnerable position. Luckily, similar to how the twins are two for one, he’s a three for one. Hermione is more than happy to help you, and Harry is in the same boat as you. He had to cook his uncle, aunt, and cousin, breakfast every morning by the time he learned how to walk. If anyone’s going to understand, it’s going to be him. a pair of parents, and an uncle sometimes sibling. you would be in safe hands.

Ginny

She, more so, went running to her older siblings for advice. Especially Bill. He knows stuff like this after all. It’s confusing, until he explains it. Much like how Hermione would with Ron. After some time, she figured out how to make it work. She didn’t really know if she could pull it off, but she is a Weasley. She is too stubborn to back down from a challenge. Her care taker role would follow more of an older sibling dynamic. She’s found it pretty nice, really. She was always jealous that her brothers got to have younger siblings. She had to be the last one, and that takes a toll after a while. Especially in a family so big. It’s a nice way to live out something like that. You can’t complain about it. Especially since, similar to Charlie, she’s yanking you into the air. All that Quidditch sure pays off. A older sibling is rather comforting. Familia love is soothing to the soul. You both get that gentle moment. She gets to be a big sister, and you get one. So warm, and safe.

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emeritusemeritus · 9 months

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How can you tell them apart? [Fred Weasley]

(Gif not by me)

Title: How can you tell them apart?

Pairing: FredWeasley x Gryffindor!reader, background Ginny x Harry.

Timeline: Non-specified, mentions of a non canonical kiss between Ginny and Harry.

Summary: Reader is the only person able to tell Fred and George apart and the twins have never known how she was able to, until one of them overhears, learning a little more than he had intended.

Warnings: a few swear words, mentions of kissing, brief angst and utter fluff. Not beta read nor spellchecked, we die like Sirius.

As always, I have used a little artistic license when it comes to the dorm accessibility between boys and girls, in order to fit the story.

"How the bloody hell can you tell them apart? Our mum can't even tell them apart!" Ron says exasperated as he flings himself down on the couch inside the Gryffindor common room, bumping clumsily into Hermione as he takes his place.

"Yeah I've been wondering the same thing..." Fred says suspiciously, moving closer to you as he fixes you with a mock glare which is juxtaposed by the glimmer in his eyes and the threat of a smirk tugging at his lips. George tails closely behind him and looks more than a little confused but happy to go along with it, a fake accusatory glare fixed on you, though it is much softer than Fred's. You fight to push down the nervous butterflies that build within you as Fred stalks darkly over to you, hovering like a looming shadow. "What can I say, it must be a gift," you shrug smugly, averting your eyes towards Hermione who looks upon you in amusement.

The twins had come down from their dorm for breakfast wearing one of their signature Weasley sweaters, emblazoned with their stitched initial on the front. You'd said nothing further than a greeting and had slipped them a knowing smirk before tucking into your breakfast. When the twin wearing the G sweater had asked for your opinion on something, you hadn't hesitated to correctly address him, much to everyone's confusion.

"I don't know Fred, maybe it's better that you leave it this week."

"Umm y/n, that's George," Ron had said wearily, with a cringe on his face at your mistake. You'd simply snorted in reply, barely looking up from your buttered toast and replied, "yeah and I'm Hermione."

"How!?" George had blurted out, outraged that you'd seen straight through their little scheme. Fred simply looked at you with a questioning gaze, trying to read your face but you had remained resolute, sitting smugly as you finished your breakfast.

Fred refuses to acknowledge your answer as an explanation and crouches down in front of the loveseat you are sat on so that you are eye level with each other. His eyes wash over your face, the suspicious look still plastered on his face as he tries desperately to search for some kind of clue.

"Try again," he whispers darkly as your eyes meet, his eyes sparkling with a dangerous glimmer. Refusing to be intimidated, you simply allow a smug smile to bloom over your face as you smile up at him innocently with doe eyes, showing him that you won't be exposing your secrets.

Not once taking his gaze off you, he bites his bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth as he often does when he's concentrating. “Georgie, I think we need to test out her gift," Fred says darkly, almost as if he's trying to call your bluff.

"Fred, I was thinking the same thing," George says ominously behind his brother as he moved and crouches down beside his slightly older twin, both of them now facing you with a dangerous look in their eye.

Much to your disappointment, Ginny had chosen that exact moment to burst through into the common room and immediately required your attention, pulling you and Hermione away from the intimidating twins and ushering you both into your shared dorm with only a questionable apology shot in the direction of her brothers at her interruption.

Once back in your dorm, Ginny immediately began retelling the story of what had just happened between her and Harry, finally kissing after years of flirting and building tension. You had almost forgot about your moment with the twins as you listened to your friend gush, so overwhelmingly pleased for her that she was finally getting the boy she had longed for, for years. "So, you seemed awfully close with my brothers back there," Ginny finally says, shooting you an accusatory glance as Hermione giggles, explaining on your behalf what had happened.

"So how can you tell them apart? I still have no clue and I'm related to them!" Ginny says, pulling the pillow beside her into her lap as she leans in slightly, intently listening to your answer.

You shrug slightly, not wanting to make it a big deal. "I don't know, there's loads of little differences between them, you just have to know what to look for."

"Like?" Ginny says, trying to bait you. You huffed out a sound that was a mixture of a laugh and a sigh, knowing there would be no escape from the questioning.

"Well, Fred has a slightly rounder face and a straighter nose than George and his eyes are a slightly different shape. He's got a scar on his left eyebrow and a little mark on his nose and George had two moles on his neck which Fred doesn't have. Fred used to be slightly taller but now it's George, not by much but it's noticeable if you're looking. Fred's hair sticks out like a flick at the end whereas George's doesn't, it sort of lies flat but with a little kink where he tucks it behind his ears when he's concentrating. Fred's slightly broader than George, like his shoulders and back are a little wider. Fred is usually always the one to speak first and then George will follow behind explaining whatever Fred has said because most of the time it's a blunt statement or an implication without any context."

You immediately felt embarrassed as your little rant had come to an end, never intending to spout out all your knowledge on the pair as Ginny and Hermione look at you with a mixture of shock and amusement.

"How much do you actually look at them?" Ginny teases, only furthering your blush.

"That's quite a list," Hermione says with a cheeky smile on her lips.

"Fine, fine thank you," you say sarcastically, trying to get them to shut up as you sit there mortified at your confession.

"So it's Fred then?" Ginny asks, making you frown in confusion. "Well most of the list was Fred this, Fred that and only a little bit of George sprinkled in. It's Fred that you like?" She's dropped her teasing tone and asks you honestly as a friend. You know that there's really no way you can deny it at this point and simply nod your head, biting your lip to hold back your smile. She immediately squealed and did a little dance on the bed at your confession.

"I mean, in the beginning I just really wanted to be able to tell them apart. I didn't want to be just like everyone else who either guessed or limped them together or ignored them because they couldn't tell, I wanted to be their friend," you shrugged gently. "The more I noticed the differences, the more I realised that it was Fred that I felt more connected to and I guess I started to get feelings for him and it's just carried on really."

"How long?" Hermione asks delicately.

"Years," you huffed out a laugh at your pathetic confession.

"But to answer your question, I can use those things to tell them apart but mainly it's just the feeling I get from Fred, like my mind knows when it's Fred and when it isn't," you shrug again. "He walks into a room and I just feel like magnetic pull like an invisible string that I don't get when it's George. Ughr I'm so pathetic." You drop your head into your hands as the realisation washes over you. The girls immediately try and comfort you but are quickly silenced by a knock on the dorm door. You each look around scandalised at who would be knocking now and you immediately feel a sinking feeling that someone might have heard your confession. Ginny goes and answers the door and awkwardly shuffles to the side at the caller steps into the room.

Fred. Shit.

You're sure you can't go any redder than you already are, wishing the bed would just swallow you up right then and there. "Just checking in on you ladies," he says but you can see his eyes shoot to you with a look you couldn't place, as if he was lying.

Ginny suddenly launches towards him and pulls at a wire hanging out of his pocket, gasping as she pulls out the extendable ear that he had clearly used to spy on your conversation.

Tears began to brim in your eyes as you thought of how much he'd heard, your whole world crashing down at the very thought. You were so painfully embarrassed you wanted to run away and sob but you were completely frozen in place, wishing it all to go away.

"Um, could I talk to y/n/n?" Fred asks shyly, running his hand through his hair. His sudden uncharacteristic shyness only fuelled your desire to cry, solidifying the idea that he was embarrassed and offended by your unwilling confession of feelings for him. He was probably mortified too that someone like you had feelings for him, no doubt either disgusted by the idea or trying to hold down his laughter at your pitiful crush.

"Y/n?" Ginny asks, turning to you to wait for your consent, subconsciously defending you like the great friend she was, even if it was against her own brother. You felt Hermione's stare on your sad form and you simply nodded, knowing you just needed to get it over with, like pulling a plaster off of a fresh wound.

"We'll be right downstairs," Hermione said, not missing the opportunity to glare at Fred as she walked past, trying her best to appear threatening. You couldn't meet his eyes, not even when the door clicked closed and you were left alone. You had never felt so achingly awkward in his presence and you tried your hardest not to let your thoughts spiral as you considered his next move. Fred crept closer to you, no doubt judging your demeanour carefully to check that you wouldn't launch yourself at him or run away if he spooked you. You felt the bed dip as he took a seat beside you, sitting on the edge of the bed just close enough to reach out to you.

He said nothing but reached out slowly to gently place his finger under your chin and lift it so that your eyes were looking into his. His eyebrows bunched together slightly as he noticed the unshed tears in your eyes. "I'm so sorry," he says quietly and your eyes closed at the pain consuming you as he began his rejection. "I only intended to hear what Ginny had to say, I wanted to make sure she was okay and that that little shit hadn't upset her. But then you started talking and I was intrigued, I'd always wanted to know how only you were able to tell me and George apart like some kind of superpower. You've never once called me the wrong name, or George and you've never once made us feel like we were the same person, just like everyone else has." His tone was soft and honest, two things you hardly knew Fred was actually capable of, which caught you completely off guard. "It was interesting to hear how well you know us, I never noticed just how well you do, mostly because my attention has always been on you."

Your eyes flashed up to his again at his words and he let out a little smile at seeing your shock.

"I'm sorry I found out like I did, but I'm so fucking glad I know now and I can't say I regret it." His words only surprised you more and you had to stop yourself from gaping at him.

"Tell me if I'm reading this wrong, but I really, really want to kiss you right now," he says, chuckling slightly as your eyes widen, the thumb of his hand that was cradling your chin absently stroking your cheek.

You don't waste another second and slightly lean into him, trying to close the distance between you as he leans forward, bridging the gap and capturing your lips in a kiss that sets off butterflies in you. The kiss deepens almost instantly as he pulls you closer to him, your arms snaking around his shoulders as you put every ounce of emotion into kissing him back, feeling like Weasley whiz bangs were going off all around you. His hand cradles your chin and neck as he holds you, dominating the kiss which you never want to end. You pull apart eventually, both a little out of breath as you look at each other with a little laugh shared between you at the sudden shift in mood.

"I'm a complete fool, if I'd just told you how I felt at the beginning we could have been doing that for years," he says with his signature smirk back in place, still a little breathless from the searing kiss you'd just shared.

You huffed out a laugh in reply, "not a completely fool, just a fool," you teased. He immediately launched himself at you, wrestling you to the bed as he climbs over you, planting another kiss on your lips as his hand tangled into your hair to hold you close to him.

"I'm not wasting anymore time," he says, pulling away as he gazes sincerely into your eyes, "be my girl?"

"I've always been your girl," you reply quietly, looking up at him with a sincere, loving smile. He smiles, chuckles and reaches down to give you one more kiss and you're convinced you could die happy now.

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #harry potter #fred Weasley x you #emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites

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