Untouchable: a Fred Weasley fanfiction

Chances

I don't know why I'm so angry.

Actually, I do. I know why. It's because it's all come tumbling down on me– all the unwanted voices, the looks in the hall, the words in the Daily Prophet, the scribbles of notes and the rumors and the glances and the bully.

Because it's not just about Ella Walker. It's not just about an entire part of myself that I was trying to navigate being exposed without my permission or preparedness. It's about that and more, about everything before that, everything in Beauxbatons and in my head and then at Hogwarts and now here.

So I guess this is how I'm shutting it all up.

"Muffliato."  I throw the word away without a thought.

I shove my boyfriend onto his bed and lock the dorm door with a flick of my wand, tossing it aside straight after.

Fred's eyes are wide. I can see his Adam's apple move in a hard gulp as he looks at me in a daze, legs spread and arms stabilizing himself on the mattress.

"Oh, god," he breathes as I climb on top of him.

"Yeah." I bury my head in his neck and devour.

"Oh, god," he groans.

My lips and teeth are already roving over his skin like it's my last damn meal and I can feel him twitch underneath me, his hand weakly coming to my hip before I push it away, kissing up to his ear with fury.

"No," I growl there. Control.

I pin his wrist beside his head, hearing him gasp when I lick his neck.

He squirms a little beneath me when I use both hands to hold his arms back, moving my lips to his mouth and biting his bottom lip, making a feast out of him. He exhales against my mouth and weakly kisses me back, as if he can't keep up with me, as if he's already breathless and defeated.

I feel him stop moving beneath my grip and he brings his legs up to my sides, his hips twitching up to me with want. He's... giving in. Completely.

I pull away from his lips to look down at him, meeting his wide eyes. "You're not fighting this."

He visibly gulps, blushing a deep pink.

He's hard. Like, very hard. "You want it?"

More blushing. He meekly nods.

I flick my eyes to his mouth, tightening my grip on his wrists. I have so much fire in me right now, that I don't think I could stop if I tried.

"Good," I say lowly. "Because I am not going to stop. Not until I ruin you."

My mouth is on him again, and he whimpers, sort of startled, definitely eager.

"Please..." he begs in the small spaces where my lips are not devouring his– "please– I need it–"

Without warning, I tear my mouth away from him and sit up, still straddling the man with a fiery look in my eyes. I reach down and pull my shirt off, tossing it aside and already pulling Fred's sweatpants down just enough to reach his boxers.

Fred stares up at me, eyes clouded with lust, his gaze tracking down to my breasts and his hands weakly coming up to try and get a touch.

But I instantly shove his hands back down, dipping lower again so that our faces are an inch apart. I hold his wrists above his head on the mattress.

"No," I order again. "Did I say you could touch?" Control. I'm taking control tonight, of everything, and it's gonna feel really damn good.

His eyes look big and pleading as they gaze up at me, his chest already rising and falling with impressive breath. I haven't even pulled his boxers down yet, and he's this flustered?