cherry chapstick [F.W]
summary: Fred has come up with a game, to guess what flavour of chapstick you are wearing, in hopes of one day finding out for himself.
pairing: Fred Weasley x reader
word count: 2.3k
warning: none, just pure fluff!
a/n: omg I’m so sorry that I keep reposting this, hopefully third time lucky! anyway, there is literally no plot to this, just some good old fashioned fluff! I honestly loved writing this one, I really enjoyed writing from Fred’s perspective. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it x
(gif not mine, credit to owner!)
Fred couldn’t help the small smile that was dancing on his lips as he watched you talk animatedly to the group, tipping your head back every now and then to let out a laugh. Truth be told, Fred wasn’t really listening to what you were saying, too distracted by how beautiful you looked, his gaze darting between your eyes to your lips as he was enraptured by how they glistened in the soft light of the kitchen thanks to the chapstick he had watched you apply not five minutes ago.
As he watched you take a sip of the drink in front of you, he wondered what flavour the chapstick was. The way it had tinted your lips slightly red and the faint aroma he had caught a hint of when you applied it made him think cherry? He shifted in his seat, unable to deny that all he wanted to do was hop over the table, gently take your face in his hands and press his lips to yours and find out exactly how you tasted.
Fred had admired you for a while. Being best friends with Ron Weasley had meant that Fred had known of you since you started at Hogwarts, but it wasn’t until Ron had finally convinced you to spend a summer at the Burrow last year that Fred had begun to pay attention to you. He was aware that he probably looked like a lovesick puppy, staring at you across the table, as he remembered that day you walked into the Burrow, cheeks tinted red as you nervously introduced yourself to everyone, a light dress clinging to you in all the right places, a grin dancing on your lips as Fred and George had made a joke. He had instantly thought you were beautiful, and that summer had quickly turned into his favourite as you had first gotten close as friends before something shifted at the end of July. He had found himself seeking you out in a room, enjoying the slight blush that crept up on your cheeks when he shot you a flirty comment, the warmth that radiated from your smile, your ability to light up a room. Eventually he caught himself wishing the summer would never end.
You had both danced around the knowledge that you both fancied each other, having confessed your feelings to each other over a bottle of firewhisky a couple of months ago. Since then, hugs had lasted longer, you’d both caught each other staring, endless flirty remarks and soft touches here and there. But whether it was out of respect for Ron, or something else entirely, nothing official had come of it.
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Shut up. As if this hit over 1,000 notes!! Omg thank you so much 💖💖💖
