a night at the burrow.

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cw: exhibitionism, voyeurism, alcohol, teasing, slapping/hitting, slight degradation

word count: 2408


fred's lips tasted like fire whiskey. he smelled even better ⎯ like mahogany and cigarettes. claire gripped onto his shirt pulling him closer. 

cold air filled the night, the dying fire the only warmth besides each other. fred flicked the cigarette into the flame. he rolled claire over, pinning her by her wrists to the blanket they had laid down on the grass.

the only sound was the wind, the roaring fire, and the cricket's hiding within the weeds.

his hand caressed her skin, going under her shirt to cup her breasts. fred squeezed, brushing his thumb over her clothed nipples. even at the ghost of his touch, she arched into him, sighing lightly into his mouth. 

he moved between her legs, grinding down his hips against her core. before he could do it again, claire dug her legs into his sides and flipped them over. now on top, claire broke away from fred's lips, moving her mouth to his neck.

"you're gonna pay for that later," he said in between groans as his witch pulled at his hair.

she placed a delicate trail of kisses down his throat, feeling his adam's apple bob when he moved up against her. the witch moved back up, using her tongue to leave bruises in her wake. when she reached his pulse point, she opened her mouth ever so slightly and began to suck.

her hand raked through his hair, pulling every so often. claire nipped at his neck, marking him with small love bites. smirked to herself when she ground down on fred's growing hard-on. she moved back to his pulse point, sucking before biting down. hard.

fred threw his head back, his hands digging into her waist. a growl sounded at the back of his throat, a noise that never failed to electrocute every nerve in claire's body.

"why don't we go back to my room, claire?" fred said, panting.

claire smirked. "lead the way, sir."

she looked at him, hazel eyes more orange from the fire. fred moved the girl off him, standing and extending his hand out to her. "godric, how did i get so lucky?"

claire laughed quietly, remembering the stuttering fred weasley that asked her to hogsmeade in their fifth year. the flowers that his mom no doubt told him to bring to her. 

hand in hand, they ran back to the burrow, giggling from the fire whiskey. fred slowly pushed the front door open, tiptoeing on the floorboards.

"we wouldn't want to wake anyone, now would we?" the ginger asked as they climbed the stairs. claire giggled and shook her head. "that's a good girl. are you a good girl for me, claire?"

fred's hands moved a piece of dirty blonde hair behind his witch's ear. claire felt the familiar butterflies in her stomach. the familiar feeling that her legs had been hit with a jelly jinx. she nodded yes and moved towards his bedroom door.

fred pushed the door open enough for the both of them to fit through. she looked over to george, sound sleep.

"fred, we can't," claire motioned to his twin. "not while your brother is here."

"we can, and we will." fred walked to claire until he was leaning down, their lips a breath away. "you're just going to have to be extra quiet for me." he moved to her ear, whispering, "can you do that for me, darling?"

in response, claire's hands reaching for fred's shirt. tugging it off him, she threw it into a pile of clothes on the floor. fred's hands ghosted a touch to her waist, tugging at the end of her shirt.

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