boyf ! fred is obsessed with kissing you, and he's given up on being subtle about it too. anytime, any place - even in the middle of classes - he's passing you crumpled notes made of parchment, saying 'meet me in the common room later?' the smirk he throws over his shoulder? yeah, you know you won't be having normal conversation.
boyf ! fred's attention span is mediocre at best; he'd rather charm a chocolate frog into sprouting wings through extremely questionable means than pay attention during class. somehow, you distract him more than anything else could. your perfume drifts over to him, wafting through his senses like a love potion times a hundred. you'll catch him staring super obviously, and try not to smile when he looks away like he's actually listening to what's being taught.
hm: speaking of love potion, when he was instructed to concoct one in sixth year—something went horribly wrong. instead of anything remotely pleasant, it reeked of rotten eggs and owl shit. yours, however, was perfect. woodsy, slightly musky, a carbon copy of his cologne. he still insists he doesn't know what went wrong. however, in a dramatic act of pettiness, you ignored him for the day, sighing about how his true soulmate wasn't you, but a girl with terrible scent choices. in apology, he got on his knees, pleading with you. puppy eyes, hands together, while you lasted all of ten seconds before giving in.
proud of his auburn hair, boyf ! fred made the outstanding decision to dress up as a piece of ginger for the halloween feast. the worst part? he attempted to get you in on it too, dragging 'please''s out so far they could fill up two rolls of parchment. you denied it, though your heart was saying something else. he pouted for the rest of the day, only letting up the sad act when you kissed his forehead and called him 'your little piece of ginger.'
hi! i'd like to ask a one shot on fred weasley in which y/n is a slytherin who's best friends with draco and is in the same year as the golden trio. she's the typical pureblood, stubborn and proud slytherin, but also kinda shy. her and fred hate each other and are always bickering and even tough they don't realise it they actually have a lot of sexual tension going on since they're unconsciously attracted to each other. the rest is up to you.
thankss
frenemies | fred weasley
pairing: fred x syltherin!reader
word count: 2,4k
summary: where fred loves nothing more than to tease y/n
a/n: i hope you like this, i still feel a bit insecure about writing for other hp characters >.<
warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of injuries
universe: harry potter
“Mr, Weasley! Now, would you please leave Ms. Y/L/N alone and stop flirting with her”, Professor McGonagall’s loud and stern voice suddenly says behind you, and her words immediately make your cheeks flush a bright red color, while anger builds up inside of you because Fred Weasley once again managed to embarrass you in front of the whole class. Because now, of course, everyone is looking directly at you, and you would like to slide down your chair as low as possible in order to helplessly disappear under the table and escape your classmates’ curious looks. Fred, on the other hand, seems little bothered by the comment about his very inappropriate behavior – it never bothers him – and he only straightens up with that disgusting smug grin after bending down toward you and your table, one elbow on the tabletop.
Literally everyone can see that you are extremely embarrassed and feel very uncomfortable about this situation, but Fred seems to be even more amused now than when he teased you about your supposedly wrong homework only minutes before. When McGonagall finally approaches, he gives you a wink before turning to her.
“You know, professor.. I just can’t resist Y/N. She is so adorable”, Fred enthuses like a little boy in love, but the sarcasm is clearly evident in his voice. You hate being called adorable, and he knows it. That is why he even says it in the first place. To annoy you. As always.
“I am really happy for you, Mr. Weasley. But let us not ignore the fact that your flirting disturbs everyone else while studying”, Professor McGonagall rebukes him and since he knows that he can only lose this conversation, he finally gives in and goes back to his seat to high-five his twin brother. As is they had another success. Rolling your eyes, you turn back to your parchment, but your heartbeat is still beating hard against your chest.
════════════
The wind strongly blows through your hair, blocking your view for a brief moment as it flies in front of your eyes. The spring-like weather takes some getting used to and you would actually much rather sit in your warm common room by the fireplace, with a cup of tea, a fluffy blanket and maybe a good book. But since you are a good best friend – the best of all, to be honest – you could not say no when Draco asked if you would like to watch his Quidditch practice today. You love watching him, you really do, but you prefer watching him when it is warm outside, and you are not stuck in the thick layers of clothing.
Unfortunately for you, the Gryffindor team decided to do their weekly training session today as well, which means you have to look around for possibly incoming danger every two seconds. Fred Weasley could be lurking around every corner.
Concentrating on your best friend as best you can, you find your gaze switching towards the red-colored team across the field, your view particularly getting caught on a red-haired boy who catches and returns your gaze at that precise moment. Your pulse immediately increases, out of embarrassment at being caught and also because he gives you his brightest smile, accompanied by a wave of his hand.
Shaking your head, you turn your eyes back to your house team, which is racing across the field at this moment, chasing and dodging the balls. It never ceases to amaze you how good you team has become in recent years. Of course you believed in them from the very start, you are a Slytherin after all, yet every year you become even more enthusiastic about the sport. You would never fly that fast with your broom, even if you do not like to admit it. Your grades are perfect in every subject, but there is a lot of room for improvement in Broom Flight Class.
“Hey Y/N!”
Violently jumping from shock, you look directly into the eyes of Fred Weasley, who is now hovering in front of the grandstand with his broomstick, only a few centimeters away from you. Again, there is that smirk on his lips when he looks at you. Sometimes you think he is making fun of you, but sometimes, very occasionally, you fancy you see something else, something more, in it.
“Fred Weasley, when are you going to learn that it is rude to startle people like that?”, you roll your eyes in annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest while holding his gaze. Although you cannot exactly explain how you manage to hold his piercing gaze right now.
“Your team has just challenged us to a training game. If I were you, I would rather switch houses quickly”, Fred recommends, a victorious expression on his face.
“If I were you, I would rather be careful not to accidentally get hit by a bludger”, you counter, raising an eyebrow, letting your mind wander for a second to how good he actually looks in his Quidditch uniform.
“You do not have to worry about me, my love. I am already grown up”, Fred winks at you, then pats himself on the shoulder before twisting his head in different directions to crack his joints. As if he were preparing for a bitter fight.
“Well then you should win the game with ease”, you reply, you ambition gaining the upper hand. Slytherin needs to win this practice match just so you can tease Fred about it. “Good luck, Weasley. You will need it.”
In fact, team Slytherin is more likely to be the team that needs that luck right now. They are already far behind, and Draco and Harry are in a fast race, chasing the golden snitch. Just when you think Draco is going to get hold of it, there is a scream that makes you look around.
However, all you can see is a large brown ball directly coming your way at breakneck speed and you have no choice but to protect yourself with your arms crossed over your head. You wait for the painful blow, but it does not come. Instead, there is loud cheering.
Puzzled and a little scared, you look up to see Fred flying right in front of you, apparently batting the bludger away from you with his bat in order to save you from getting hit.
“Are you alright?”, Fred asks you, suddenly not at all interested in winning when Slytherin scores a goal due to his momentary absence on the field, concern in his voice. Not quite knowing what is happening, you just nod slightly, the shock still coursing through your body. Fred seems to interpret your cold answer in such a way that he should not have asked, which is why his facial expression immediately petrifies.
“This is how a good training should go! The bludger would never have hit you anyway. After all, the best Quidditch player in the world is flying right in front of you”, Fred finally tried to cover up his sudden insecurity with jokes and only now do you realize that your sparse answer must have seemed wrong to him. And even if he is annoying you again with these kinds of statements, he just saved you from getting brutally hit.
“Thank you”, you say a little louder, a small smile on your lips, which is why he widens his eyes for a moment. Whenever you talk to him, you rarely show him your genuine and beautiful smile. In fact, you try to never show any emotion when he is around. Which is good, because otherwise Fred would not have been able to hold himself back months ago.
“O-Of course”, Fred stutters out, which seems to shock you both a bit. Fred Weasley suddenly feeling insecure? Maybe you were indeed hit by a bludger.
“Fred! When you are finally done flirting with your girlfriend, how about you give us a helping hand here?”, Oliver Wood, the team captain of Gryffindor, suddenly yells loudly across the pitch, obviously annoyed that he has to play with one player less.
“She is not- Oh. Nevermind, doesn’t matter”, Fred wants to explain, but quickly interrupts himself for the best. Already about to set off on his way back, he turns to you one last time, the typical grin on his lips. “See you later!”
════════════
„You were absolutely amazing out there, Draco!”, you cheer as you wait for your best friend by the changing rooms before he finally appears, jumping into your arms as soon as he sees you. Slytherin only won because Draco managed to catch the snitch after all.
“I know, we are all in great shape. We will win the game at the weekend with ease”, Draco smiles happily, but also exhausted from the strenuous training session.
“Thh, yes, of course. Because you are playing unfair, not because you are good”, Fred suddenly joins your conversation, who just came to the changing rooms as well, now standing right in front to you with a look of disappointment on his face. Draco takes a step forward towards him, hiding you a little behind him, going into full attack mode within seconds.
“Oh yes? Do you want to say that again, Weasley?”
“Draco, let it go”, you try to hold your best friend back by trying to pull him back on his shoulder, but without success.
“Slytherin is playing unfair. Or how are you going to explain to me that Potter has a broken arm, Wood almost suffered a concussion, and I am bruised all over my body?”, Fred spits out, clearly and visibly angry at how the game went for his team. You have never seen him like this before, so down, and angry and hurt.
You can already feel how Draco is more than ready to attack, but Fred decides to be the wiser one this time and gives in, simply turning away with a shake of his head and disappearing into the changing room.
“What an idiot”, Draco murmurs angrily, but lets it rest for now. However, you feel the desperate urge to follow Fred, especially after seeing the numerous bruises on his arms. Carefully, you sneak away from Draco as he is busy talking to his team captain and step into the cabin where Fred disappeared into before, now sitting on one of the benches with his head hanging low.
“Fred? Are you alright?”, you ask hesitantly, your voice barely louder than the wind outside, which has died down in the meantime. When he hears your voice, he immediately raises his head in shock, but lowers it again right away as if he does not want to talk to you.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Was just a stupid game.”
“That is not why I asked. I ask if you are okay. The bruises-”
“Not that bad. They will be gone again soon enough.”
“O-Oh. Good. Then- Uhm, well- I think you played very well today”, you stutter our and inwardly slap yourself across the face because you seem to have forgotten how to speak like a normal person all of a sudden. A brief silence spreads between you at your words, until he lifts his head, looks straight at you, and then smiles without saying a word. This small gesture immediately triggers sheer chaos in you, and you do not even know what your words just triggered inside of him.
“Thank you, Y/N. That means a lot to me”, Fred finally answers you, visibly in a better mood now than he was a few minutes ago. “You know how to cheer someone up.”
“Well, I am doing my best”, you giggle sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear while looking anywhere but him.
“I know.”
“So- I, uhm-”, you clear your throat, having absolutely no idea what else to say. With your thumb you point toward the door over your shoulder as you already take a step back. “I will go and leave you alone-”
“Whoa, folks. You guys are so incredibly awkward, I can hardly stand it”, George’s voice suddenly sounds behind you after you had to interrupt yourself when you accidentally bumped into him while going backwards as he came in at exactly that moment. You do not know how much he overheard, but definitely the last words, if not more.
“Could you guys finally, I dunno, make out or something so I do not have to watch this tragedy any longer?”, George suggests bluntly, but his statement makes you even more nervous now. How can he just say something like that out loud?
“George!”, Fred and you say at the same time, both deeply outraged by his twin brother’s silly suggestion. Even though you have to admit the idea does not sound as wrong in your head as you initially thought. With his hands up in fake surrender, George quickly backs out of the danger zone, disappearing out of the door as fast as he entered.
“I really have to leave now-”
“Were you seriously worried about me?”, Fred interrupts you sternly, his expression unreadable as he looks at you wide-eyed after he has stood up and his face is now hovering so much higher above you. You want to give him a teasing answer, some kind of scathing comment, but because he asked the question so genuinely, all you can think of is the truth.
“I always worry about you”, you reply shyly, but this time you do not avert your gaze. You look deep into his eyes, and you realize once again how beautiful they actually are. However, you did not expect that he would suddenly pull you into a tight hug, making you feel more secure and protected than you felt in a very long time.
“I knew it”, he finally murmurs after resting his face on your shoulder. You can almost feel his cheeky smile, so you reluctantly push him away, his body vibrating with laughter. Outraged, you start to counterattack, but he quickly puts his hand on your mouth to prevent you from cursing at him.
“You are incredibly cute when you look at me like this”, Fred smiley, leaving you completely and utterly speechless. Who would have thought that Fred Weasley, the boy who loves nothing more than to annoy you all the time, always eliciting a snide comment form you, would one day leave you speechless. And he intensifies this even more when he suddenly puts his lips on yours in a passionate kiss.
After the Weasley Twins launch their latest prank where everyone at Hogwarts is forced to say nothing but the truth, Y/N L/N is terrified that she’s going to reveal her deepest secret- namely, that she’s been crushing on Fred.
masterlist
“I think Fred and George are up to something again.”
You look up at Ron’s grim pronouncement as the red-haired boy slumps morosely into a seat in the Great Hall. “What do you mean by that?”
Ron jerks his chin down the Gryffindor table at one particular set of ginger twins. “Look at them. They’re clearly plotting something.”
You glance over at them, noting the identical smirks and eager eyes darting up and down the table. “I think you might be right.”
Hermione follows your gaze. “What, just because they look like they’re anticipating something? Maybe they have an exam next period.”
Ron groans. “Not everyone takes the same strange joy in exams as you, Hermione.”
He takes a deep drink of his pumpkin juice, downing it like you’ve seen Hagrid nurse a firewhiskey at the Three Broomsticks. He clears his throat once the goblet is empty.
“Look, I know Fred and George. They always get that same look in their eyes right before they do some prank. I mean, I know I’m their brother and all, but sometimes they scare me. It reminds me of this one time when I was three and they turned my teddy into a massive spider. It scared me for days, all those legs.”
Ron’s expression turns to horror, and he claps a hand over his mouth. “I did not mean to say all that- I didn’t want you to think that of me- why am I saying exactly what I’m thinking?”
Harry raises an eyebrow. “We all know you’re afraid of spiders ever since the second year. No need to go on about it.”
Ron gives his friend a glower, cheeks still burning bright enough to match his hair. “Then what are you scared of, Harry?”
Harry frowns at this. “Cho Chang, honestly. Every time I talk to her I feel like my heart’s in my throat.”
Hermione lets out an incredulous laugh. “Really?”
Harry’s expression mirrors Ron’s- that same bewildered embarrassment. “I don’t know why I said all that. I didn’t mean to.”
Hermione studies the two of them with something like fascination. “Do you really have no control over what you’re saying? I mean, I know this is bad, but to be honest, it’s a little fascinating. I hope it won’t last long, though, because Ginny’s made me promise that I won’t tell either of you that-”
Hermione covers her mouth with her hand, although you can hear a faint murmur from underneath her palm as she finishes her sentence.
Ron stares at her curiously. “What did Ginny make you promise not to say?”
You lean forward, interjecting to make sure Hermione isn’t forced to answer him. “Look around us. I think everyone is having the exact same problem.”
Sure enough- students up and down all four tables of the Great Hall are turning to each other with confused and panicked expressions as they’re forced to say whatever is on their minds. You watch, fascinated, as Neville confesses to Ginny that he does get bored in Herbology sometimes and even Oliver Wood shamefully admits that he thinks the Slytherin Quidditch team isn’t that bad.
You shake your head slowly, a grin creeping onto your face despite yourself. “I know what Fred and George’s latest prank is. I think they’ve forced us all to tell the truth.”
As pandemonium rumbles through the Great Hall, you watch as Dumbledore steps forward to address the students. A silence falls as everyone turns to face him. The headmaster claps his hands together, calling for quiet.
“It may not have escaped your attention that all of us seem rather inclined to tell the truth, albeit against our will. Madam Pomfrey and other members of the staff will do their best to eradicate this problem before it grows too strong. In the meantime, I would suggest that you do your best to avoid unpleasant topics. The truth can be a blessing, but only in small doses, I’m afraid. Some of us have secrets that we’d rather keep hidden away.”
A sudden expression, almost like alarm, spreads across Dumbledore’s face, and he quickly steps aside, heading back to his seat. You can see him as he goes, though, and notice that his lips are still moving as if he’s speaking quietly to himself. It appears that even the headmaster has fallen victim to Fred and George’s truth prank, and that he himself has some knowledge that he would prefer nobody knows.
Ron lets out a low whistle as conversation drifts back across the Great Hall. “Merlin’s beard, they even got Dumbledore. They’re never going to let this go.”
You shudder slightly. “I hope they do. This prank had better end soon.”
Ron looks over at you, curiosity washing over him. “Why? What do you have to hide?”
Your eyes widen with panic as you feel your mouth start to open. Quickly, you loop your arm around Hermione’s, forcing the two of you to stand and hurry out of the Great Hall.
You walk quickly until you’re down the hall where nobody can hear you. Hermione looks at you, brow furrowed with concern. “What’s wrong, Y/N? What are you afraid of people finding out?”
You sigh. “I’m in love with Fred. I just didn’t want to say it in there because I was afraid they’d hear me. Also, I didn’t want to have to tell Ron I’m crushing on one of his brothers.”
Hermione smiles at you. “If you told Ron you were crushing on one of his brothers, he’d have to ask you to clarify.”
You laugh at that, but quickly fall silent. “What am I supposed to do, Hermione? You know what the twins are like, they’re going to make it a point to find out everything they can about everybody. If they ask me what I’m trying to hide, I’m done for.”
Hermione shakes her head. “We can figure this out. Every prank has to end at some point, right? We just have to make it through a couple of days until they get bored of it.”
You freeze slightly when you hear the sound of footsteps echoing up the hall. A sinking feeling lodges itself in the pit of your stomach when you see Fred and George coming to a stop beside you.
Fred flashes you a casual grin. “Gone from the Great Hall so soon? The mayhem is just getting started.”
You roll your eyes. “I saw. I can’t believe you already managed to get to Dumbledore.”
George looks superbly proud of himself. “Sometimes we exceed even our own expectations. I think this is one of our best yet.”
Fred nods ecstatically. “Speaking of which, Y/N, you did hurry out of the Great Hall rather quickly. Is there anything that you’re trying to hide?”
You can feel the hideous truth burning away at you, but you manage to smooth your expression. “Obviously. I think everyone’s trying to hide something.”
Fred crosses his arms across his chest, curious. “Fascinating answer. What is it you’re hiding, then?”
It takes everything in you to deflect the question. “If I wanted to talk about it, I wouldn’t have left the Great Hall.”
George sighs in mock disappointment. “Honestly, Y/N, you need to give in to the spirit of the prank. Stop trying to work around it.”
You give him a look. “Come up with a less embarrassing prank and I’ll stop thinking of ways to stop it.”
Fred laughs, and the sound makes your heart do a slow flip in your chest. “See, I knew you would have a fun time of it. See you around, Y/N.”
With that, the two boys drift off down the hall, in search of another target to uncover.
You wait until the second they round the corner, then flop your face down into your hands. “What am I supposed to do? They weren’t even trying that hard, and it took everything in me to not tell them.”
Hermione catches at your hands, pulling them away. “We can do this. We can go to the library between classes and do some research on how to avoid truth spells. I think we can handle this.”
Hermione is true to her word; the two of you spend a lot of time pursuing books in the hopes of finding something to help you. The best you can come up with is a strategy: avoid, ignore, distract. If Fred asks you what you’re hiding, you just use that. Avoid him in the halls, ignore the question, distract him with another topic. It’s the only way you can successfully deflect the hateful truth. It won’t be a permanent solution, but at this rate it’s the only option left.
It looks like this is the best thing you can do anyway- none of the staff can figure out what to do about the sudden truth epidemic. It isn’t just a spell, or they would be able to break it. It isn’t just a potion, because it spread flawlessly to every inhabitant of the school and it isn’t breaking after hours or even days. No, whatever Fred and George managed to do will stick for however long they intend. You have a bad feeling that they’re going to keep it up until they hear one specific piece of information that they’ve been after since the start.
It’s starting to affect more than just your worrisome conversations with the Weasley twins. Classes, too, are a difficulty: being completely honest to your teachers is never a good thing. Lavender Brown confessed that she’d been getting exam answers from a Ravenclaw in the year above her, someone else told Professor Binns that they couldn’t care less about his class. However, you’re sure the worst happened to you.
It all started one dreary afternoon in the Potions classroom. The room is as dank and dull as ever, the few specks of sunlight that managed to pierce through the thick shutters falling quietly to the floor. Professor Snape swept around the room, examining potions and issuing questions to unsuspecting victims.
One of these would come to you, as he stopped in front of your cauldron. “Miss L/N- what is the proper method of extracting skin from a boomslang? I would assume that you know, despite the sorry state of your studies?”
Maybe it was the aftereffects of having to keep your guard up for so long due to the truth prank, or maybe it was the mind-numbingly awful atmosphere of the potions room, but you felt an answer creeping to your tongue before you had the chance to stop it.
“To be honest, Professor, I couldn’t care less.”
You freeze in place the second you say it, too horrified to even apologize. Snape stares at you coldly, and you swear you can feel the temperature of the room dropping as he glares at you.
“Twenty points from Gryffindor, Miss L/N, and let’s hope for your sake that we all stop relying on that godforsaken truth spell to pretend we have some confidence no doubt caused by an unfortunately bloated ego.”
He gives you one last scowl, then strides away.
Harry and Ron gape at you in something like awe. “You know what, maybe this prank is for the best. I think you just made my day.”
You can barely look up from your cauldron. “I’m glad at least some of us are having a good time.”
Apparently, word of your little backtalk to Snape spreads quickly, because Fred pulls you into a corner of the hall when you’re trying to make your way back through the stone corridors. For a second, you feel like your heart is leaping into your throat, because his hand is wrapped around your waist and he’s smiling at you like you’re a supernova. Then he relinquishes his grip, and you can begin breathing normally once again.
Fred stares at you, grinning ear to ear. “I heard that you talked back to Snape. Is it true?”
You let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re still enjoying your little prank. Yes, I did, and when Gryffindor loses the House Cup by about a thousand points this year, I guess we’ll know which twins to blame.”
Fred waves this away. “I’m sure Dumbledore will give Harry a thousand more points for doing something spectacular at the end of the year. Things have a way of working out.”
You laugh at that. “I can’t act like it isn’t true.”
Fred leans back against the stone wall of the corridor. “Of course you can’t. We’re all speaking the truth, aren’t we? And besides, you still haven’t told me what your deep secret is.”
You freeze. Avoid, ignore, distract. “I can’t believe you think I’m going to answer that after what I had to go through with Snape.”
Fred groans. “Oh, come on. You have to tell me at some point.”
You don’t even respond, just raise an eyebrow.
He sighs dramatically before straightening up once more. You look at him, at the way he’s standing just a few inches away from you. It is taking everything in you to not move a muscle, to not back down.
Fred’s smile feels tantalizingly cruel. “You’re going to have to tell me at some point, you know. We all have to tell the truth at some point.”
Avoid, ignore, distract. Avoid, ignore, distract.
“I bet we do.”
You rest your hand lightly on his shoulder in a goodbye, then start walking down the hall once more. You can sense his frustration even as you walk away, but it’s replaced with an overwhelming sense of relief that you managed to hide your secret for one day more.
You had hoped that Fred would get distracted and move on from trying to figure out your secret. There are hundreds of students all milling about in the halls of Hogwarts, couldn’t he go investigate someone else? Yet there he is, sitting a couple seats down in the Great Hall, or coincidentally sliding into the plush armchair right next to yours in the common room. He doesn’t even have to say anything, just raises his eyebrows like he’s expecting something. There’s no way he could possibly know what you have to say, you reason, but he knows that it’s something good.
So, if you can’t get him to leave you alone, you can at least leave him alone yourself. Avoid, ignore, distract, right? The first part is avoid, and so you turn down hallways when you see him coming, or just happen to be going to bed whenever Fred appears in the Gryffindor common room. It’s much easier like this- you don’t have to frantically think of some excuse to avoid telling Fred you love him if you just don’t see him at all.
However, even this feeble strategy will not last forever. You’re doing homework in the common room late one night when everything falls apart. You were staying up later than you should- you forgot about a Charms essay and were rushing to get it done in time. Even Harry, Ron, and Hermione had retreated to their dorms, but yet you stayed behind. You must have fallen asleep at one point, because when your eyes open again you can see the stars and moon high in the sky through the glass panes of a window.
You curse softly, running a hand over your face in an attempt to focus. You’ve only got one more paragraph in this essay, you can just do it and then collapse in your bed like everyone else. There’s a sound behind you, and you turn to see the portrait door sliding shut as someone steps in. To your chagrin, you realize that it’s Fred, and that you’re now alone in the common room with the one boy you’ve been trying to avoid. You try to surreptitiously sweep your quills and parchment into your bag, but his eyes have already darted to you.
“Too late, you can’t run away this time.” He says, walking over and taking a seat next to you.
You go to tell him that you weren’t running away, but the words dry up on your tongue. Truth spells, ruining alibis since whenever Fred and George cast this hated prank.
You settle instead for an excuse. “It’s late. I should probably get to bed.”
He tilts his head towards you, the light of the fire casting flickering beams of warm light on his face. “It’s coincidental how you happened to time that right as I showed up.”
You fish around for something to say, something to make him laugh and get rid of that look on his face. Fred is always smiling, always happy. Yet now there’s something almost like regret on his face, and you realize that you don’t like the sight of it one bit.
“That’s what you get for setting this prank on all of us.” You manage, and Fred shrugs.
“I suppose I deserve that. Didn’t quite get what I wanted out of it, so I’ll probably have to take it down at some point. Will you stop avoiding me then?”
You stare at the fire, knowing that if you let yourself see the hurt look on Fred’s face your entire calm exterior will crack in two. “I suppose so. I won’t have to keep changing the topic all the time.”
Fred sighs, running a hand through his already haphazard ginger hair. “I just don’t get it. What secret could possibly be important enough that you would walk away as fast as you can whenever you saw me? Honestly, I’m starting to think that it’s not just because of the spell.”
You turn to him, feeling the hot burn of anger starting to pierce the back of your throat. “It’s not like that. Maybe you should have thought all this through before making the entire school tell nothing but the truth.”
Fred throws up his hands. “We’re students, Y/N! Nothing we’d ever have to say would be important enough for you to talk about this like I killed somebody. It’s just a prank, what could you have to hide that would be this catastrophic?”
You shake your head. “If I told you, you’d laugh at me.”
Fred catches at your hand as you go to stand up. “Just tell me. You’re already trying to leave anyway.”
Three words are running circles around your head, the three words you’ve been practicing for days. Avoid, ignore, distract. Avoid, ignore, distract. But you don’t say anything like that.
Instead, you stare at Fred as he stands up, feeling your pulse spike as your frustration grows. “Fine. I love you, and I’m pretty sure that it’s one of the worst mistakes I could ever make. You did all of this for what, the chance to make fun of people for all their secrets? I knew from the second you first came over that I’d regret this, and I guess I do.”
Fred stands there, silent for a second. You can feel your anger washing away from you, replaced instead by dread. He’s going to laugh at you now, and say that you were a complete idiot. That’s why he’d made the prank in the first place, right? To force people to tell the truth and then laugh at them for doing so. But Fred doesn’t laugh, not at all. Instead, when he speaks again his voice is quiet, and something like happiness tinges his words.
“I didn’t make the prank to laugh at you. I made it because I was hoping that you’d return my feelings and this would give me the opportunity to see if you felt the same way.”
You feel like the ground has been swept out from underneath your feet. “You like me back?”
Fred nods. “You never said anything and I thought you didn’t like me at all. The only way I could see you telling me is if-”
You cut him off, feeling an incredulous laugh rise to your lips. “Is if I was under a truth spell? You’re insane.”
Fred leans back, a light grin dusting his face. “Is that a good insane or a bad insane?”
You shove him playfully. “I’m still considering it.”
Fred’s smile broadens. “Am I allowed to plead my case?”
You nod, faking solemnity. “I suppose so.”
He steps forward and kisses you. When he leans away, he looks back at you. “Am I forgiven?”
You have to take a second to fight the blush in your cheeks. “I think so.”
Fred flashes you a grin. “Good. In that case, I have a truth spell I need to reverse.”
Description: Fred and the reader’s relationship seen through a series of favours
Warnings: its kind of angsty, brief description of injury (umbridge’s detention related) briefly battle of hogwarts related, miscommunication i guess
Tag-List : new form is here for anyone interested in being added
~* Fifth Year *~
“Do me a favour?”
It’s a question (Y/N) has been practicing internally for at least an hour, yet her voice still wobbles as she asks it aloud. Fred, lying back in the grass, soaking in the late summer sun, peeks open one eye to look up at her with a questioning brow.
“Yeah?”
“K-kiss me?”
A second passes before he reacts, sitting bolt upright in an instant, choking slightly on the gasped breath taken in the process. Regret floods her chest with a mortified ache and she finds herself dropping her eyes to the ground and picking at tufts of grass nervously.
“What?”
“It doesn’t matter,” She mumbles, “It’s stupid.”
“Kiss you?” He repeats, “L-like on the lips?”
“I shouldn’t have asked,” She argues embarrassedly, “I was just- I haven’t- it doesn’t matter.”
He blinks at her, confusion pulling his brows into a frown. Confused is probably the only word he can come up with to explain the whole thing, because quite frankly, it’s not everyday your childhood best friend asks you to kiss them. Then, much to (Y/N)’s further mortification, realisation flickers across his face.
“You’ve never kissed anyone?”
He asks it like he’s surprised, something that only goes to confuse (Y/N) herself. Yet she nods, too obviously embarrassed to even attempt to play it off as some elaborate joke or simply fib her way out of it.
“Really?” Fred asks, “And you want me to be your first kiss?”
“I just want it out the way,” She explains hastily, “Don’t go getting big headed about it… it’s just a favour.”
He’s silent, the most silent she’s ever heard him before even, and it does nothing but add to her growing concern that in one fell swoop, she’s managed to ruin sixteen years of friendship. She’s on the verge of what is bound to be an incoherent string of apologies when he finally answers.
“Okay.”
Her breath catches with something between relief and sheer panic.
“Really?”
“What sort of friend would I be if I denied you such a simple favour?”
‘Simple’ is perhaps an underestimation of what she’s asking, and she can see the nervous way he licks his lips despite the grin he throws on instantly to disguise it. She’s gotten this far though, too far to chicken out now with his warm hand cupping one of her cheeks as he leans closer.
The sun has brought out millions of freckles across his pale cheeks, and for the first time she’s so close she could count them. Part of her, a side of her she’s never met before, thinks about tracing her finger across them, connecting them like constellations. Something in her chest twitches at the thought.
“You ready?”
“Don’t make it sound so clinical,” She mumbles.
“Listen, beggars can’t be choosers.”
She smiles, glad for the familiarity of his teasing. It has some of her nerves dissipating, her lungs expanding with a light, freeing breath before she nods.
He’s tentative for only a moment, their lips meeting in the lightest of kisses until she’s instinctively pulling him closer, fingers curled around a handful of his gryffindor tie. He lets out a surprised sound from deep in his throat, though he doesn’t pull back.
In fact, if he knew kissing his best friend might feel this good, he wouldn’t have asked so many questions before doing so in the first place. At the feeling of her grip slipping from his tie, he feels his heart dropping disappointedly, chasing her lips subconsciously as she pulls back.
He watches her contemplative expression, a good distraction from the racing of his heart in his chest and the unexplainable urge to kiss her again. She gives him a wide-eyed look, eyes darting in every direction as she navigates whatever millions of questions are running around her head.
Then, she clears her throat, nodding as she begins to get to her feet and leaving him dazed on the grass with reddening cheeks.
“Thanks,” She says, “I owe you one.”
~ *Sixth Year* ~
“(Y/N),” Fred exclaims happily, portrait door swinging shut behind him as (Y/N) looks up from her book to meet him with a frown, “Just who I was looking for,”
“That’s never good,” She says, slowly closing her book, “When am I busting you out of detention this time?”
“You wound me,” He retorts before dropping onto the couch beside her with, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead with a dramatic flair, “Me? Detention?”
His head lands haphazardly on her lap and she looks down at him with an amused look, shaking her head in teasing disbelief. His lips twitch into a grin, one that (Y/N) knows is just the beginning of what she doubts will be a simple request.
“Do me a favour?”
For a split second, she freezes, a slight shiver crawling up her back at the question, which little under a year ago saw them kissing by the lake. He holds her eyes in a knowing gaze that causes her to nod cautiously.
“Okay…”
“Come to the ball with me?”
Her brows lift into a surprised expression.
“What?”
“The Yule Ball,” He explains, sitting up now to face her properly, “I need a date.”
She gives him a long, questioning, look, searching for some tell-tale signs of a Fred Weasley joke in the makings. Sceptically, she narrows her eyes.
“Why?”
“You owe me one.”
She bristles imperceptibly, gulping at the knowing look that swims in eyes and twitches the corners of his lips into a small smirk.
“That and I left it all a bit last minute, you see,”
She can’t quite decide whether it’s hurt or relief that tugs at her chest at the revelation, that he’s only asking as a last resort. It’s a much more simple version of the scenario she’s been building in her head since he first asked his question, one with far less feelings to get more attached to.
“What if I’ve already said yes to someone else?”
“Well, I have it on good authority that you’ve been turning people down for weeks now,” He raises a brow, “What’s that about? Holding onto hope of being asked by someone special?”
The teasing tone he’s going for comes out strained in a way (Y/N) has never heard from him before and she frowns for a second at it before rolling her eyes.
“No, I’m not,” She answers, “I just didn’t feel like going with them.”
“So, what you’re saying is that you don’t have a date?” He says, “And neither do I… how convenient.”
She lets out a short scoff, shaking her head in disbelief at the pleading puppy-dog look he’s managed to perfect in just a few seconds. She exhales a loud reluctant sigh that has the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile.
“Is that a yes?”
“Hmm,” She nods, “I guess,”
“How romantic.”
“Ah well, as a wise boy once said, beggars can’t be choosers.” She manages a smirk of her own, “Perhaps next time you’ll find yourself a date sooner than a week before the dance.”
Something in Fred’s face drops for only a split second, and not even their years of friendship helps her read it. It’s only a moment before he’s disguising it again with a lopsided grin and a playful shove.
“Shut up,”
~* Seventh Year *~
Fred’s finger tips are warm as they trace the red-raw words scratched into the back of (Y/N)’s hand, lookin from it up to her eyes with a look she knows means a lecture. She sniffles slightly, twisting away from him to plan her counter argument.
“Before you say anything,” She starts, “Your hand is just as bad so don’t start on my detentions.”
“I wasn’t going... “ He sighs, “Well, I was, but you’re right. I’m just trying to figure out how to get the pink hag back for it.”
“Don’t do anything stupid... I’m fine.”
Fred let’s put a disagreeing grumble.
“Fred,” She says warningly.
“I know,” He breathes out reluctantly, “I just worry when it’s you.”
She turns back to face him, hoping to catch whatever expression has followed such a revelation, but she’s too late, finding him instead twisting away from her to search through his bedside table drawer. He returns with a small jar of healing balm, what she’d come to his dorm for in the first place, or at least that’s what she’s telling herself.
“What happened this time?”
“I missed curfew again,” (Y/N) mumbles, hissing in a breath when the balm touches the open wound, “I was at the library trying to teach myself the bloody defence course since she won’t- ouch.”
“Done,” He assures with a soft smile, “Wuss.”
“It’s not that when you’re the injured one,” She teases, though she’s not feeling quite up to it, “I can’t believe this is how we’re spending our last year.”
“I know.”
She’s not sure what’s causing the tears that have welled in her eyes though, certainly not from the sting of the healing balm or even the general pain from the scar itself. Yet she can’t help the tears that have begun to fall from her lashes and slip down her cheeks.
“Hey-” Fred looks up, brown eyes wide in surprise, “What’s going on?”
“Take your time,” Fred says, rubbing soothingly at her back, “It’s okay,”
“It’s all just a bit much isn’t it.” She manages after a moment, “Newts are hard enough but now w-we’ve got this absolute psychopath of a defence teacher who doesn’t actually teach, we’re training to fight deatheaters and- it’s just a bit much.”
“I know what you mean,” He admits solemnly, “It’s pretty messed up.”
“Sorry, it’s stupid.” She shakes her head, “Everyones going through the same thing-”
“Don’t do that.” He frowns, “That doesn’t mean you don’t get to be upset about it, (Y/N).”
“I know but-”
She hears him click his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly, and she can picture him rolling his eyes though she doesn’t have time to see for herself, not with his arm around her shoulder as he curls her into his chest.
She freezes, as if this is something bizarre, as if they’ve not shared hugs a million times growing up. This is protective though, like in his arms, for even just a moment, he’s protecting her from everything wrong in the world.
“Fred?” She sniffles against his chest, “Do me a favour?”
“Anything, (Y/N).”
“Just- just hold me for a bit.”
His breath catches, heat blossoming in his chest as he pulls her closer, running his fingers through her hair in a soothing motion.
“Of course.”
~* Post-Hogwarts*~
“Do me a favour?”
(Y/N), seconds from falling asleep, fit perfectly between Fred and the back of the sofa, peers up at him with bleary eyes and soft smile.
“Of course.” She exhales tiredly.
“Be with me.”
She freezes, replaying it over and over in her head, not entirely sure she’s not dreaming. At her silence, he lets out a sharp noise that sends a jolt of panic into her body, waking her up well and truly. She lets out a choked sound as his arms unravel from her waist and a chill hits her as he begins to pull back.
“What?”
“It’s late-” He begins to backtrack.”I’ve got to open up shop tomorro-”
“What did you just say, Fred?”
He gives her a look that's almost pained.
“Don’t make me say it again.” He pleads, “Let’s just forget about it-”
“You… You like me?”
He lets out a sound close to a pained laugh that lodges itself in his throat as he twists awkwardly away from her. A deep crimson colour has begun to creep up his neck and he pulls nervously at his shirt collar in a meek attempt to combat it.
“I’ve not been very subtle, (Y/N).”
“Clearly you have!” (Y/N) bursts, only shrinking with the realisation that, just down the hall, George is sleeping in his room. “Since when?”
“Since you kissed me,” He exclaims exasperatedly, “Favour bloody one.”
She stands, suddenly hit by the need to pace, to move around as she deals with all the questions that race through her head. Gulping, Fred watches her move, suddenly afraid that he’s made this favour their last.
Then, she comes to a stop.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Excuse me?”
“An idiot,” (Y/N) repeats, “You made me feel like the last resort for the yule ball, but you’re telling me that was serious?”
“Hey,” He frowns, “It was serious right until you started giving me this look like I was insane and I had to cover my arse somehow-”
“Shut up,”
She drops herself onto his lap, cupping his cheeks in her hands and holding his face there, inches from her own. He watches, frozen in awe, as her eyes dance across his face. She’s tracing his freckles again, close enough to be mesmerised all over again.
“Since we’re pretty terrible with signals,” She exhales, “When I kiss you now… it’s not just a favour.”
“Thank Merlin for that.”
~* The Battle of Hogwarts*~
Hogwarts has never felt so different.
Standing here now, it’s hard for (Y/N) to imagine these are the same hallways they once walked down, that she and Fred used to sneak through in the dark for midnight snacks and linger outside of before teachers arrived.
Tucked into an alcove of the corridor, Fred and (Y/N) watch the havoc unfolding, keenly aware of what lies ahead, the war that’s been looming over them all year. He holds her hand in his own, squeezing it as reassuringly as he can manage as she chews nervously on her bottom lip.
“It’s going to be okay, right?”
“Of course, Love,” He smiles, lifting a hand to gently caress her cheek, “We’ll be fine.”
She nods, melting into his warm touch. But nothing eases the weight that has settled on her chest, the anxious feeling that is telling her everything is about to go wrong. She searches his eyes for something familiar to cling onto.
“I don’t like us not sticking together,” Fred admits quietly, “We should be where we can keep an eye on each other.”
“I promised Madam Pomfrey I’d help with the injured,” (Y/N) admits sadly, “And you should be with George.”
“I know,” He breathes, “I just don’t like it,”
She smiles sadly in agreement.
“Me either,” She admits, “but I’ll be fine… I’ve always had better defence marks than you anyway,”
Much to (Y/N)’s relief, Fred laughs, bringing back a sense of normality, even if just for a moment. The hand on her cheeks pinches her playfully and his brown eyes roll with a teasing glint to them.
“Look at you, joking in a crisis,” He teases, “I’m so proud,”
“I’ve known you long enough to have picked up some sort of ill-timed sense of humour,”
He lets out a short chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I love you, (Y/N),”
“I love you too,”
He leans in to capture her lips in a gentle kiss, a practiced art that has a well-known warmth flooding (Y/N)’s chest. Yet, as he pulls back, he leaves something bitter sweet behind, the ache of a goodbye kiss.
“I should go,” He admits, “Before we end up caught up in the crowds, right?”
“Yeah,”
“I’ll see you once it’s all over,” He grins, “When we’ve won,”
It takes a moment for (Y/N) to convince herself to let go of his hand and feels suddenly cold once it’s gone. He’s turning away with one last wave when she calls him back, heart hammering in her chest.
Request: “Heyy can you write with fred? Where fred and reader are dating and they are alone and fred is being all needy clingy touchy touchy all cute but reader is a bit uncomfortable because she is shy. After a few attempts fred gives her space and he is heartbroken bc she is not comfortable with him yet? And then they make up but this time she pushes herself out of her comfort zone. Im sorry this is so specific but i thought it would be cute. I would be so happy if you can write this!! Thank you.”
Thank you so much to @rheas-stuff for requesting my very first Fred Weasley x Reader. I’m so sorry that you’ve waited such a long time for this.
Warnings: brief mentions of sex? (Sort of), angst
The Gryffindor Common Room is empty save from both yourself and Fred Weasley, your friends all retiring to be hours ago.
When your conversations became dull and tiresome, you had both sat in comfortable silence, the only sound being that of the crackling of the fire in the hearth. It seemed strange that Fred was quiet, yet before you could question him, he had you pinned against the cushion of the sofa, his lips pressed to your own. It isn’t that you have never been in this situation before with your boyfriend but that fact he was kissing you where anyone could walk in which made you uneasy.
“Fre-“
You try to speak as he presses his lips harder against yours, a hand trailing up your body over your blouse.
“Fred, stop.” He stills after a moment, a sigh leaving his mouth.
As he moves away from you, you see the sadness in his eyes as he avoids your gaze.
“Fred, I-“
He stands to leave as you reach for his hand, your fingertips grazing his as he pulls away. You watch with regret as he leaves for the boys dormitory.
This wasn’t the first time that you had stopped Fred from going any further, and it wasn’t that you didn’t want to. It was just that the only place where there was no one else around was the Gryffindor common room – and anyone could walk in at any time. Your shyness always controlling your actions. You loved Fred with all of your being and you knew he was it for you.
A week later, you find yourself with Fred, hidden beneath a willow tree overlooking the black lake. The sun set over an hour ago and no one ventures this far out to the lake at night. You had taken that fact as an opportunity to make love to him for the first time in a place where you were not to be interrupted, the branches of the willow shielding you both from view.
As you sit straddling his lap in nothing but your underwear and his unbuttoned shirt, you confess your previous woes, easing his concern.
Prompt number: #4 “I know you didn’t ask for this.”
Fandom: Drop Dead Diva (Fred x Reader)
Word Count: 817 words
Summary: Fred made a mistake no one ever did before. And now, you have to take care of it.
“Fred.” You hold your hands together as you stare at the angel standing nervously on the other side of your desk, a serious expression painted on your face. “Why was Deb Dobkins send into Jane Bingum’s body?”
“She’s the one who pushed the return button, not me!” He walks back and forth in front of you while he crosses his arms over his chest, knowing that he’s in deep trouble now. “S-she was my first neutral human and I didn’t know the protocol about it, so I turn around for one second to call you, and when I turned back-”
“She was already gone.”
“Yeah…!” He stops in his tracks and his body slightly relaxes in relief when he looks at you. “So you understand...”
“I do.” You slowly breathe in, not looking away from his eyes. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t leave out anything.”
“Oh no- don’t… don’t tell me He’s gonna fire me-”
“Of course not.” You turn your head towards your computer just as a notification appears on it, your attention slightly shifting as you read. “You know that He’s very forgiving of our mistakes… huh.”
“What is it?”
“Since Deb is walking freely on Earth, the whole universe could fall apart without someone to help her-” You type a few words back to your superior to say that you agree with how he decided to take care of the situation. “-so we’re gonna send her a Guardian Angel.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea.” You look at him to see him smile in relief, the stress going out of his bodies by long loud sighs. “That’s… that’s good… who are you gonna send?”
You give out a small smile. “You.” His expression instantly turns to a panic one. “Deb was still under your supervision, Fred. This is your punishment.”
“No. No, no, no, no-”
“Hey.” You stand up and walk around the desk to put your hands on his arms in a comforting manner. “Listen… I know you didn’t ask for this… but it’s what He wants.”
He takes a sharp breath in. “Yeah, but-” His brown eyes look into your (e/c) orbs, an unfamiliar glint passing through them. “If I get send to the human world, I won’t be able to see you for a decade.”
You feel your heart sink into your stomach, one of the feelings that you’ve only experience with him and that is one of many humans get to live through on earth, and your mind begs you to beg Him to send someone else, but-
“It’s only a decade, Fred.” You give out a shaky smile. “We’ve been around for much longer.”
“Yeah, you’re right… I just...” He takes your hand in his and holds it tight, his pupils now desperately looking for something in yours. “I-I feel like if I go, I’ll lose this feeling, and-”
“We’re not supposed to feel those things, Fred. We’re angels, not humans.”
“But it feels so great.” You look down at your hands intertwine, feeling your chest flutter at the sight. “Doesn’t it feel great? I feel like we could fight everything if we just stayed together. How could it be wrong?”
“It’s wrong, Fred. We could be banished, just like you know who.” You tremble in fear at the thought of what happened to Lucifer so long ago, looking around your office in fear that someone’s listening before looking back at him. “I can’t do anything about the situation. You have to go.”
His eyes seem to water up, his lips forced to stretch out into a small smile. “You’re right.. you’re right… I don’t know what I was thinking…”
“I’m sorry...” You free your hand from his, turning your head away to avoid the sight of his sadness. “But you know, maybe it’s a good idea.” You continue speaking while walking back towards your desk. “Maybe those feelings will go away and we’ll be fine to continue our jobs. I am your superior, after all.”
He gives out a hard laugh. “Is that what you want?”
“Deb will soon wake up in Jane’s body.” You ignore his question and try to focus on working on the preparations for his depart on your computer, not wanting to think about what you feel (mostly because you don’t know how you feel). “You’ll be teleported into the hospital she’s staying at as soon as you step out of those doors.”
He slowly nods, his smile still somewhat on his face despite the pain in his chest. “… alright.”
You look up from your computer to watch him walk towards the exit, feeling the inside of your chest getting squeezed. “Wait-”
He stops right before he opens the door, the angel not having the strength to look back.
“… Goodbye, Fred.”
He takes in a sharp breath. “… Goodbye, (Y/N).”
You didn’t like how much you felt like dying when he disappeared.
George: “Look it’s (Y/N). Go talk to her.”
Fred: “So I can stutter my way through it again. No way.”
George: “You have to man up brother.”
You: (greet them) “Man up for what, George?”
Fred: “Oh nothing! Uh- I mean-” (he sighs) “This is so horrible.”
