Fred sat amongst scattered parchments and tomes on the battered old couch that dominated the sitting room. His face was awash in concentration, flaming red hair falling scattered to his eyes, head bowed over the heavily edited parchment in his hand.
Hermione watched him from the entry to the kitchen, two steaming mugs of tea held carefully. Pushing off the jam with her shoulder, she padded across the room, setting his cuppa before him, smiling softly when his hazel eyes darted up to meet hers briefly. “Hi.”
“Evening,” he said, his voice a sigh as he settled back down to his work, scratching out something with one of Hermione’s red biros and scribbling furiously for a moment before tossing the parchment down on the coffee table. He leaned back groaning, scrubbing his face with his hands.
Hermione moved to an open chair, reaching forward to slide his mug closer and accepting his thanks with a nod. She glanced over the parchments that papered the table, sofa, and floors surrounding Fred, eyebrows raised high when she saw exactly what spellbook he had opened at his knee. “What are you up to?” she asked, trying and failing to keep her voice neutral if Fred’s telling smirk was anything to go by.
“Just making a few notes on a new product idea.” He winked at her over the rim of his mug, watching her with amusement as she tried to hide her irritation at his latest experiment.
“Anything interesting?”
A warm, genuine smile split his face and she glared at him before sitting back with a huff, crossing her legs and rolling her eyes. “Nothing you’d like, that’s for sure.”
Hermione sniffed imperiously, looking curiously around the room and studiously avoiding Fred’s smug expression. She hummed once before eyeing him again. He was still mostly in his work attire: robes, jacket, and tie removed, the top three buttons of his shirt undone and sleeves rolled revealing toned, freckled forearms.
Hermione licked her lips, before taking a quick sip of her own cuppa. “And after you’ve made your notes? Are you coming to bed?” She let her eyes drag heatedly over him then, not being the least bit shy about her perusal.
Fred’s face remained a stubborn mask of innocence, though Hermione could see the teasing in his eyes. “... Why?” he asked, tone laced with forced naivete, before the ghost of a smirk lifted the corner of his thin lips. “Did you have something in mind?”
Hermione growled, rolling her eyes in exasperation and dropping her hands still holding her nearly empty mug to her lap. “Oh stop playing coy, you wanker. Are we having sex tonight or not?”
Letting his head fall back, he gazed at her tiredly from beneath his lashes. “Are you going to be horrifically insulted if I say no?”
Pursing her lips in irritation, Hermione tried not to glare. “Most likely.”
Groaning, Fred leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees. “Well, then who’s playing coy?’ he exclaimed irritably. “You could have just said you were demanding sex tonight, you bloody chit.”
Folding her arms across her chest defensively, Hermione did glare then. “You don’t seem as into it if I have to tell you.”
Fred snorted at that. “I beg to differ,” he muttered, standing immediately and reaching his hand out when she made to leave the room in a huff. “Well, what are you hoping for?” he demanded. Using the grip he now had on her arm, he pulled her to his broad chest, openly leering down at the witch before him, voice dropping deep as he leaned forward to nip at her ear. “Want me to push you up against the wall and ravish you?”
Hermione shivered at the contact, eyes fluttering closed when his lips brushed the curve of her jaw. “That would be alright,” she whispered, breathless.
She squealed in surprise when Fred spun her until her back was to his front. Thick arms pinned her to the hard planes of his chest while large hands roved, massaging, pinching, and pulling. Hermione’s moan turned decidedly wanton when she could feel him pressing into lower back.
Wet, panting breath ghosted over her ear, making her tingle deliciously. He rutted into her, arms tightening around her. “Want me to shove you down onto the bed and devour you?” he growled.
“Fuck, yes,” she breathed, pressing her arse against him, her hands flattening against muscles of his thighs, gripping, and squeezing.
Hermione could feel him smirk against her neck before he nipped her skin roughly, making her gasp. “Want me to tie you up and use your body for my own pleasure?” Hands moved until he cupped her breast with one hand and the other slid between her jean clad legs.
“I… maybe?” she said, pressing her thighs together and effectively trapping his wandering hand. She quirked her head to the side thoughtfully, tilting her head around in an attempt to make eye contact. “Would you be amenable to me tying you up?” she asked, voice waveringly hopeful.
Fred immediately ceased his delightful attack on her body, pulling back slightly to look down at her incredulously. “You want to be on top? Then why did you want me to take the lead?”
Spinning around in the loosened grip of his arms, Hermione threw her hands around his neck, smiling into the flesh of his adam’s apple, which bobbed as he swallowed. “I never said I wanted you to take the lead. I said I wanted you to be into it.” She kissed his neck once, twice, before licking a stripe up to his jaw. “And yes,” she breathed, delighting as a shiver wracked his stout frame. “Me being on top does sound preferable for this evening’s festivities.”
“I’m always into it when you’re on top,” Fred’s voice quivered as Hermione dragged a hand down his chest and abdomen to cup him through his trousers. Fred groaned in mock annoyance. “Ugh, fine. You can tie me up. But no funny business,” he said sternly, looking down at her and glaring when she teasingly squeezed him. He yanked her hand away, pulling it back up around his neck and rolled his eyes at her mocking smirk. “You aren’t going to tie me up just to leave me drowning in anticipation with no relief in sight?”
Hermione pouted, slapping his chest in annoyance. “Oh, honestly Fred. Now you’re just taking all the fun out of it.”
He stared at her incredulously, eyebrows in his hairline. “My bollocks ached for a bloody week after last time, woman.”
“Wimp,” Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes.
“Sadist,” Fred retorted. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at his affronted expression, until finally she scowled up at him, nose wrinkled in feigned annoyance.
“Fine!” she said, poking him solidly in the ribs, earning a yelp. “I solemnly swear that you’ll get to come.”
Rubbing the bruised skin, Fred nodded decisively. “Damn straight.”
“Eventually.”
“Hermione.”
Hermione smirked wickedly, hugging tightly around his middle and molding herself to him like a cat. “After I’ve sat on your face,” she all but purred, staring at him lustily with heavy lidded eyes.
Fred stiffened, and his breathing noticeably increased as his hands slid down the arch of her back to grip her arse. “... I’m listening.”
“And after you’ve made me come.”
“Yeah?”
Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, one finely jointed finger tapping at her chin. She looked at him pointedly. “Five times,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. Fred scoffed anyway.
“Five?!” he wailed, releasing his grip on her bum to curl his fingers through her crazed hair, angling her head so he could brush his lips against her distractingly. “Demanding little swot,” he whispered against her lips, smirking when she moaned. “Two.”
“Three,” she growled, biting his lower lip before sucking it into her mouth.
Fred quickly nodded, kissing her deeply. Tongue slid across tongue, massaging and tasting as they kissed. Fred pulled away, peppering kisses along Hermione’s jaw. “Hey, love?” he asked, breathless and needy as she writhed against him, breathy moans and gasps escaping her parted lips. She hummed her acknowledgement that she’d heard him.
Pulling away from her, he averted his eyes, blushing hotly. “You going to massage my prostate for me tonight like you did on my birthday?” Fred’s voice quivered with barely suppressed desire and his face burned hotter than fiendfyre. They’d only ever tried that once months ago and Hermione had thought the whole experience had proven too much for him.
Reveling in his thoroughly uncommon shyness, a wicked smile spread slowly across her face. “Liked that, did you?” she asked, tone commanding. When all he could do was nod, she hooked her fingers through his belt loops and pulled his hips against hers. “I suppose I could be persuaded.”
Fred shuddered. “Wicked,” he breathed, clearly excited, clearly nervous.
Hermione released one of his belt loops to smack him awkwardly on his arse, causing him to snort and look down at her condescendingly. She pushed him away and toward the bedroom hallway. “It’s an awkward angle,” she defended and Fred shook his head in mock pity. Hermione growled.
“Go get on the damn bed, Fred, and if you aren’t naked and in position by the time I get in there, I’m going to force you to orgasm until you cry from overstimulation. Do I make myself clear?”
Fred’s eyes went wide in surprise before he immediately turned tail and ran to the bedroom, shedding clothes as he went. Hermione sniffed, gathering herself a moment before throwing back her shoulders, tossing up her head, and following behind him at a much more sedate pace.
It was showtime.