#wolfstar reader

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Burning Bright, Falling Hard

Fred Weasley x WolfStar!Reader

Summary: Fred Weasley and you share a quiet moment in your room

Wc: 1.6k

CW: Wolfstar mentioned but they aren't the focus, mentions of weed, Fred yearning, heartbreaker reader, kissing under the influence, reader is Sirius's daughter fr,

The room was dimly lit, a single lamp in the corner casting a stale, white glow that reflected off the scattered records and half-finished cigarette packs on your desk. The scent of pot and faint lavender incense filled the air, blending with the soft hum of some obscure rock record spinning on your turntable. You were perched on your bed, one leg tucked under you and the other bouncing restlessly, a Dutch dangling lazily from your fingers as you stared at Fred Weasley.

Fred was sprawled at the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands, his gaze glued to you. He looked effortlessly confident- most people wouldn’t have guessed the cool smirk on his face hid how utterly whipped he was for the girl in front of him. You were everything he wasn’t: nonchalant where he was charming, wild where he was playful, and untouchable in ways that drove him completely mad.

You took a long drag, blowing the smoke into the air, holding out the blunt for him to take a hit- he waved his hand, showing he had plenty for the night.

“You’re hopeless, Weasley,” You muttered, smirking at him as you flicked the ash into a tray beside your bed. “Who knew a Gryffindor could be such a prude?”

Fred grinned, refusing to take the bait. “Hopeless?” He repeated, shifting closer on the bed. “Funny, I thought I was charming my way right into your good graces.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you leaned back against the headboard. “Charming? Is that what you’re calling it now? Thought it was just you being too stubborn to take a hint.”

Fred chuckled, his grin widening as he rested his head against the wall, watching you with that lazy confidence that made your stomach twist in ways you’d never admit. “You keep opening the door for me, though.” His voice dropped into something softer. “Makes me wonder if you’re as tough as you let on.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, tilting your head like you were daring him to keep going. “Careful, Weasley,” your voice lowered. “You might actually get to know me, and then you’ll have no excuses when I break your heart.”

Fred’s grin faltered for a split second, and something softer flickered in his eyes before he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I think I’d take my chances,” He murmured, his voice quieter now. “Might be worth it.”

You opened your mouth to respond, some witty remark ready to deflect the tension that had settled between you, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, you exhaled sharply, shaking your head like you couldn’t believe him.

You flicked your Dutch into the tray, leaning back fully now, your posture still guarded but less sharp.

“You’re a fool, Fred,” You hummed, your tone lighter but still tinged with that edge of sarcasm that had always been your armor. “That's not the first time I've heard that line.”

Fred watched you, his gaze lingering as you leaned back into the pillows. For a moment, you were quiet, your usual sharp tongue subdued as the music filled the silence. Fred thought you might tell him to leave- call it a night and push him out the door with a smirk and some snarky quip about how he’d overstayed his welcome. Your parents would be home any minute; Remus didn't like boys in your room- Sirius never minded it too much. As long as he wasn't home.

Instead, you shifted slightly, your eyes growing heavier as you let out a soft sigh, your head tilting back against the pillows. Fred blinked, caught off guard as your edges softened, just for a moment. Your hand raised and curled to call him over.

Fred was done for.

He knew who you were, everyone did. Even Sirius would remark you put his younger self to shame with your reputation. But Merlin. Seeing you leaned back, your pretty slightly reddened eyes, in your canopy bed, with you blank silk pillows framing your halo of hair so perfectly. One arm draped over your stomach and the other calling him over?

He was a fool, but not an idiot.

Fred moved carefully, crawling across the bed with a deliberate slowness that felt at odds with his usual carefree demeanor. His confidence remained intact, but his grin had softened, replaced by something far more tender as he closed the distance between you. He stopped just inches from your face, his weight braced on one arm as he gazed down at you. His free hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a gentleness that made your heart stutter.

“You’re something else, you know that?” He murmured, his voice low and warm, carrying the same teasing lilt but softened by the weight of the moment.

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes meeting his as you let the smallest smirk tug at your lips. “You're predictable,” You shot back, your voice quieter than usual, the sharp edges dulled just enough to make him wonder if this was you letting him in.

Fred’s grin twitched, and instead of replying, he leaned in closer, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. The closeness made your breath hitch, but you held your ground, refusing to let him see how your resolve was beginning to waver.

“You’re not getting away with that one, love,” he whispered, his words brushing against your lips.

And then he kissed you.

It was slow, deliberate, and maddeningly careful, as though he was savoring every second, every taste of you. There was hunger in the way his lips moved against yours, but it wasn’t greedy- it was sweet, like he couldn’t believe he was here, like he didn’t dare rush it for fear of breaking whatever fragile magic hung between you. His hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek in slow, lazy circles as if to ground himself in the moment.

You felt yourself melting into him, your usual fire and defiance tempered by the way he lavished attention on you, drawing out every bit of softness you tried so hard to hide. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer as you gave in to the kiss, matching his intensity.

Fred groaned softly against your lips, his hand sliding down to rest on your waist, anchoring you beneath him. He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breathing uneven, his eyes half-lidded as he watched you with a look that made your heart ache.

“You know,” he said, his voice hushed and full of that same maddening tenderness, “for someone who’s supposed to be a heartbreaker, you’re awfully good at letting me in.”

Your lips twitched, a small scoff escaping you even as your cheeks flushed. “Don’t get used to it, Weasley.”

Fred chuckled, leaning in to press another kiss to the corner of your mouth, slower this time. “Too late,” He murmured, his voice like a vow. “I’m already gone for you.”

You didn’t respond, your usual sarcasm failing you as your heart betrayed you with its racing. Instead, you let yourself fall back against the pillows again, Fred’s warmth settling over you like a blanket.

Fred’s gaze lingered on you as your eyes grew heavier, the sharpness in your demeanor melting into something quieter, softer. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, watching every subtle shift in your expression as you drifted closer to sleep. His heart was doing that maddening thing again, beating so hard he was certain you could feel it in the way his hand rested on your waist.

You shifted slightly, letting out a soft sigh as your head lolled back against the pillows. The arm that had been draped across your stomach lazily lifted, your fingers finding their way to his hair, brushing through it in slow, absentminded motions. Fred felt his breath catch as he leaned down, settling his head on your chest, his ear pressed to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

The scent of lavender and smoke lingered on your skin, intoxicating in a way that made his chest ache. You were supposed to be scary, the girl everyone whispered about but could never quite keep. He was lucky you even entertained his offer of smoking together once- let alone being invited over for another go. But here you were, your fingers combing gently through his hair as though it was where you always wanted to be.

“You’re terrifying,” He murmured against you, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Your lips quirked into a faint smile, your eyes closed but your hand still moving in that soothing rhythm. “You’ve mentioned,” you replied, your voice laced with drowsy amusement. “Still not running, though.”

Fred chuckled softly, shaking his head against your chest. “Not a chance,” he muttered, looking up at you from where he lay. “You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Your fingers paused in his hair, and for a second, he wondered if he’d gone too far. But then you laughed, low and husky, and it sent a warmth straight through him. “Good,” you said, your voice softening in a way that made him want to hold onto the moment forever. “You'll remember me that way.”

Fred tilted his head slightly, watching you through the dim light. You were half-asleep, your guard completely down, and he could see it- the tiny cracks in your armor, the parts of you you tried so hard to hide. And Merlin, he was a goner. Completely and utterly gone for the girl who couldn’t care less, except when she did.

“I think I’m in trouble, love,” He whispered, the words more for himself than for you.

You didn’t respond, your breathing steady as you drifted further into sleep. But your fingers kept moving through his hair, and Fred couldn’t help but smile, settling deeper into you as his eyes fluttered shut.

For a boy who lived for chaos, Fred Weasley found himself at peace in the eye of the storm.