#Bill weasley x reader

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Magic Lessons p.3 | B.W.

feat. Bill Weasley x intern!reader

SUMMARY: Bill returns from Cairo, but doubt began to creep into your mind during his absence, dredging up old wounds for the both of you.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, mischievious twins, pleasuredom!Bill, angst angst angst angst, mentions of Fenrir’s attack and the war, mentions of divorce, some rough oral and piv, slight breeding kink, possessive!Bill, fluffy HEA

AN: this is now a completed series! yay!

part one | part two | masterlist

It was strange sitting in Bill’s office without him, curled up in the armchair he devoured you in, book open in your lap. You'd been trying for an hour to decipher his notes on a particular curse, tracing the small, angular letters with tired eyes, but your mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of its writer to absorb any of it.

Bill had been in Cairo for 12 days, six hours, and nine minutes, every tick of the clock like a barb in your skin, leeching black, poisonous doubt into your blood.

Would he still want you when he returned? Will the time away give him clarity to how insane you both were acting? Would you be reduced to a fling? No longer desirable now that you've been flung?

The time, the space, was making you second guess yourself, second guess him. What you were doing was reckless. Stupid, even. Risking the future you'd imagined for yourself since you were a first year at Hogwarts. You’d be a stain on Bill’s impressive career, and the thought of him eventually coming to resent you, regret you, for possibly ruining a decade of hard work…it made you physically ill.

Could you do that to him? To yourself?

But fuck, you wanted him desperately, the ache for him like a hole in your lungs. You found yourself spending longer and longer hours in his office, craving his presence, his aura, and the sanctuary of his space was the closest you could come to replicating that.

You sighed and set the notes aside for the night, the sun having set some hours before. With unhurried movements, you packed up your belongings and tidied his office on the off chance he returned the following day. You wanted it to be presentable for him, leaving no evidence that you'd been holed up there for nearly two weeks, besides the stack of completed work.

You took the Floo Station to the nearest one by your flat like you always did, ready to wash off your makeup, get into your pajamas, and order some Chinese food. Rain was coming down in sheets, wind buffeting against your coat, but when you rounded the corner towards your flat, the bulk of a man standing in the rain in front of your door stopped you in your tracks.

It took less than a heartbeat for you to realize who it was.

“Bill?” You gasped, and he lifted his head, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion, copper hair pulled back in a messy bun.

He took a step towards you. “Sorry, I—”

You launched yourself at him, completely overcome with relief, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “You're home,” you whispered, relaxing fully when his arm looped around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest under the safety of the umbrella.

“I'm home,” he sighed, nuzzling into the top of your head. He smelled of train cars and petrichor, with lingering traces of cologne applied hours earlier, and you wanted to breathe it like air. “Can we go inside?” He asked, settling his hand on your hip with a soft squeeze.

“Yes! Merlin, sorry,” you giggled, a twinge of nerves in your stomach at the thought of having Bill inside your little flat.

You reluctantly pulled away and riffled through your bag for your keys. Bill's arm slid around you from behind, pulling you back against his chest as he nosed into the curve of your shoulder. Butterflies rioted in your stomach, your hands growing so clumsy to nearly dropped your key while you inserted it into the lock.

“Missed you, little bird,” he mumbled, pressing a tender kiss to your pulse.

“I missed you too,” you said, leaning your head against his. You managed to get the door open and Bill released you so you could move inside, and he closed the door behind you both, collapsing the umbrella and setting it by the door. “So, how were things in Egypt?” You asked, hanging your bag on the hook.

Bill slid your rain-soaked jacket off your shoulders, down your arms, his touch feather light, and hung it up as well. “You really want to talk about work? That's where you just came from, isn't it?” He said while shirking his own coat.

You flushed, embarrassed that he saw through you so easily. “It is,” you admitted. “And as long as you're alright, I don't want to talk about work.”

He smirked, reaching out to cradle your face in his hand, the other settling on your hip. “I'm perfect now, love. Although, we’re going to have a discussion about your work-life balance.”

You snorted. “Really? William ‘Never-Takes-A-Day-Off’ Weasley is going to lecture me on working too much?”

“Backtalk, too? Have you forgotten your manners while I was away?” He backed you against your kitchen island, lips a breath away from yours.

“No, sir,” you hummed, barely suppressing a grin as days worth of pent up desire came surging forth, your pulse racing between your legs.

He sighed, breath fanning against your cheek. “Merlin, you sound so pretty.” His hand on your hip moved around your back, pressing your bodies together. “Haven't felt anything soft in days,” he mumbled, almost to himself.

“Take me to bed?” You asked, brushing an escaped strand of hair from his face and tucking it behind his ear.

“Thought you'd never ask,” he chuckled and scooped you up into his arms—

Knock knock!

“Open up! We brought pizza!” The twins serenaded through the door, and Bill swiveled his head to look at you.

“Oh fuck, I completely forgot.” You squirmed and Bill set you back on your feet, though he didn't relinquish his hold. “We planned a movie night.”

“Tell them to bugger off,” he huffed, bending down to kiss your neck.

“Bill, that's rude!”

“Don't care,” he muttered, lapping at your pulse, and your mind began to drift, lost in the feeling of him.

“We’re getting soaked out here!” George called.

“Don't make me break in!” Fred warned, knocking with a little more force. “I'd hate to do it again!”

“Again?” Bill's head snapped towards the door.

“Just—fuck, get in the closet!” You tried to push Bill towards your bedroom, but only managed to move him a few steps.

“Why did he break in before?” He asked, fighting a smile at your helpless attempt to move him.

“I locked myself out! I'll get rid of them, just, please get in there!” You pushed your shoulder into his sternum, peddling your legs like cartoon character.

He sighed, taking a step back and nearly sending your sprawling onto the floor. “Ten minutes.”

“Thank you!”

Bill chuckled and walked the rest of the way into your bedroom at the same moment you heard George cast alohomora.

The twins barged in, wands raised as if you were in peril.

“What took you so bloody long?”

“Why are you just standing there?”

“Whose coat is that?”

“I, actually, um—” you wracked your brain for an excuse.

“Darling, is there a man in this flat?” George asked, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Uh—yes!” you whispered back. “I met him at work and we hit it off. I'm sorry, I forgot about our plans.”

George scoffed, a teasing smirk on his face. “So you'd rather have a shag then hang out with us?”

“Y’know, if you needed to blow off a little steam—” Fred started when something crashed in your closet, making the three of you jump.

“Is he…in your closet?” George raised an eyebrow.

“No, no! That's, uh—”

Fred pushed past you, striding into your room.

“Fred!” You snapped, trying to grab him, but he batted your hand away. “Just please, go.”

“You sure you know this bloke well enough to be here alone with him?” Fred asked, moving closer to the closet, the humor having drained from his voice.

“What's his name?” George asked. “Maybe Bill’s mentioned him?”

“It’s, uh—”

“You don't even know his name?” Fred whisper-shouted, glaring at you with a strange mix of pride and concern.

“No, I do! He, uh—”

“Are you okay?” George asked, his brothers concern reflected in his face. He placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “You're shaking, love.”

“Did this prick scare you?” Fred asked, turning his attention back to the closet door.

“No! Merlin’s sake, please just go! I'm fine!”

“Hey, fuckface, what are you doing in her closet?” Fred banged on the door, and you died a little inside.

Silence echoed around the flat.

“Open the door, mate,” Fred ordered, and George pulled you a little closer to his chest.

More silence. You had no doubt Bill had apparated, and the twins were about to think you were insane.

“Three, two—” Fred yanked open the door, revealing his older brother standing in the middle of your closet, his arms crossed over his chest. “B-Bill?” Fred stammered, taking a step back.

“You two have some fucking nerve,” Bill growled, and the twins scattered as he dashed out of the closet after them.

“We're sorry! We didn't know!” George called, vaulting over your couch.

“What the fuck, y/n?” Fred shouted, diving under your bed.

“Would it kill you two to mind your own fucking business?” Bill dragged Fred out by his ankles, his little brother desperately clawing at the ground.

You'd find it funny if it weren't for your secret being out, the very thing that kept you up every night for the last two weeks.

“You're the one fucking our friend!” George shouted, effectively diverting attention from his twin.

Bill turned on him, throwing one of your pillows at his head. “I'm not fucking her!”

Fred scurried behind your bedroom door. “Then why are you here so late!”

“And hiding in like a ghoul in the closet!”

“Can we just calm down—” You tried.

“I just got back from—come here, you little shit! I just got back from Cairo and needed to check in with her—George!”

“Bullshit!” Fred countered. “You're fucking our girl!”

“Hey!”

Bill froze, turning his head to peer at Fred, pillow aloft.

“Your girl?” Bill challenged, and you groaned.

“See! I knew it! Oh fuck—” Bill chucked the pillow at Fred and he apparated at the same instant, the pillow flying right through where he was standing and landing on your bed.

“Fucker,” Bill bit.

“Congratulations on your boning! Bye!” George chirped, apparating too.

Bill sighed, turning to you.

“Couldn't keep your cool, huh?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“They won't say anything,” he said, smoothing back his hair.

“I know, it's just—” Tendrils of anxiety wrapped around your throat, tightening until you were silenced.

“What, love?” He asked, taking a careful step towards you, sensing your mounting anxiety.

“What are we doing? This is—”

Bill was quiet for a moment. “You said you wanted this,” he murmured, a sharpness around the edges of his words.

“I do!” You cried, frustrated with yourself. “But that doesn't mean we should be doing it. Bill, if it got out that you were screwing your intern, your career would be over. And so would mine, before it even started. I mean, hiding from our coworkers, from your family, it’s just…”

His jaw flexed, shoulders squaring. “So you want to end things here? Go back to before we—” he scrubbed a hand over his face. “Is that what you really want?”

Tears burned your eyes, nausea churning in your stomach. “I don't know—”

“I don't believe you,” he growled. “The way you look at me, the way you were holding me not even ten minutes ago—” his voice cracked. “I don't believe that you want to end this.”

“Maybe it isn't what I want, but it's what we should do. You know that, Bill,” you said through the lump in your throat, voice pinched and small. “We need to stop before this goes too far.”

He looked like you'd slapped him. “What do you mean ‘too far’?”

You turned away from him, tears coming in earnest now. He stalked into your bedroom and caught your elbow, spinning you back around.

“Tell me what you meant,” he pleaded, pulling your hands away from you face, your eyes wet and puffy with tears.

“You know what I meant!” You shouted, yanking your hands out of his grip.

“So even with the potential for…that, you’re still going to end this?” He asked, his voice low. “That isn't worth it to you?”

You couldn't answer him, you arms wrapped around yourself as you trembled, biting back the sob on the tip of your tongue.

“Answer me,” he repeated, softening his voice.

“What if you resent me? What if you—” your voice fractured, brittle with shame and fear. “What if you regret me?”

He leaned down, forcing you to meet his eye. “There's a lot of things I regret on my life,” he said, barely above a whisper. “But I never thought I would get the chance to love someone again, not after Fenrir. Not after the war, not after the divorce—” he drew a shaky inhale.

Guilt dogged at you, and you opened your mouth to speak, but he pressed on.

“There's nothing I wouldn't risk to have that chance again. I would give up everything, my career, my house, all of it. And regardless of what happens between us, I'll never regret you.” He cupped your face again, and this time you allowed him, eyes swimming with unshed tears, your heart mending and breaking all at once.

“Bill, I—”

“Don’t say anything else. I want you to sleep on it,” he said, straightening. “Take the day off tomorrow, too. Then you can tell me what you want to do, and we'll do it.” His voice was firm, but not unkind, a tone of finality that had you nodding in acceptance. “Goodnight, love.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, then released you, apparating away before you could blink.

You were left stunned and alone in your torn apart bedroom, reeling from Bill’s words. Growing weak, your knees folded beneath you and you collapsed onto the floor, a sob bursting from your chest.

Such a coward, you scolded yourself. Of course he's worth the risk.

You wanted or rush over to Shell Cottage and tell him, beg him to forgive you for being so stupid, but he told you to sleep on it. To be sure of whatever answer you gave him. So you shirked your work wear and climbed into bed, squeezing your eyes shut, and prayed for sleep to take you swiftly.

It didn't. You laid awake for hours, until finally, at two o’clock in the morning, you couldn't stand it any longer.

You pulled on your lucky pair of jeans and jumper, washed away your smudged makeup, and apparated to Shell Cottage.

When you landed sprawled in his yard instead of standing on his front porch, it occurred to you that surprising the Curse-breaker in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm was a stupid idea, but it was too late now.

Bill wrenched open the door, hair rumpled and dressed only in sweatpants, his wand aimed at you, green wisps of magic dancing at the end of it. Thunder rolled overhead, a crack of lightning making you jump.

“Bill,” you gasped, stepping into the light of his front porch, and he nearly dropped his wand.

“Y/n? What the fuck are you—”

“I'm sorry about what I said.” You jumped headfirst into your apology, needing to get it out before it drowned you. “I was scared and stupid and I didn't mean it. I want you, no matter the risks. I can't let you—I can't let this go by without trying.” Tears will spilling down your cheeks again, mixing with the rain, your words coming out in hiccuping gasps. “I'd never forgive myself for being too cowardly to try.”

Bill bound down the steps, grabbing you by the throat and silencing you with a savage, bruising kiss. He kissed you the way a drunkard takes to a keg, ravenous and greedy. You could taste whisky on his tongue, smoke on his breath, but it only made you kiss him harder, open yourself wider for him to devour.

“Inside,” he gruffed when you broke the kiss to breathe. “Now.”

You obliged, hurrying up the slick steps with him on your tail. The cottage was cozy and dimly lit, a fireplace roaring in the corner and the moon serving as the only illumination. There were books everywhere, piles of blankets and shelves lined with trinkets, art hung on every wall.

Taking advantage of your distraction, Bill scooped you up bridal-style, one arm notched under your knees, the other around your mid-back. You gasped in surprise, but quickly settled into the warmth of his chest, leaning your head against his bare shoulder to kiss along his rain-damp clavicle.

“I told you to sleep on it,” he murmured, carrying you across the living room and up a set of stairs.

“Couldn't,” you hummed, licking a jagged scar on his shoulder. “Not without fixing things.”

“Neither could I,” he said, nudging open a door with his foot and carrying you across the threshold. It was his bedroom, decorated with even more of his findings and a giant four-poster bed made of solid wood, the quilt a thick woven masterpiece that you only got to admire for a second before he was dropping you onto it and shirking your wet clothes.

He paused, muttering an incendio to light the fire place, and you sat up, head level with his sternum. Hesitantly, you kissed a long his abdomen, tracing the dips and swells of his muscles, his scars with your lips.

He hummed low in his chest, petting a hand over your damp hair. “Whatcha doin’, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice silken.

“Nothin’,” you mumbled, licking along one his scars, growing bolder as he placated you with scalp scratches. “Wanted to touch you.”

He chuckled. “Been wanting you to touch me—” he groaned when you shifted your body to lay down on the bed, kissing along the grooves of his hips, teasing the edge of his waistband with your fingers. “Baby, you don't have to—”

You cut him by licking a stripe over the hard bulge of his cock, feeling it twitch and swell through the fabric. You nearly moaned at the feel of him, thick and long and warm, and your pussy purred, fluttering around nothing.

“You want my cock, darling?” He asked, gently sweeping your hair into a ponytail, the strands held together by his fist.

You nodded, looking up at him through your lashes.

He tsked, smirking. “I suppose I could indulge you for a bit.” With his free hand, he reached into the front his pants, freeing himself. He wrapped his hand around the base, a pearl of precum squeezing from the swollen tip.

You caught the salty morsel with your tongue, kitten licking the underside of him. He tasted fucking divine, velvety smooth and masculine, and your jaw fell open on its own accord, eager to take more of him.

“Such a good girl,” he cooed, feeding the first few inches into your mouth before retreating, patting your tongue with his cockhead when it chased him past your lips. “Fuck, look at you. So eager to please.”

He eased himself back into your mouth, holding still so you could move at your own pace, bobbing your head in slow, sloppy movements, savoring the heavy feel of him on your tongue.

Soft, breathy moans spilled from his lips, his hand tugging a bit harder at your roots. He started moving you up and down his length, his hips rocking forward, thrusting gently into your mouth. You moaned around him, fisting the sheets below you as a flood of arousal made you pussy throb.

“Oh, darling. You want me to be rough, don't you?” He hummed, pulling his hips back until just the tip rested on your tongue.

Your eyes lifted to his and you nodded the best you could. Please, please use me.

“Your safe word is ‘hex’, okay?”

You nodded again, pleading with your eyes.

He thrust back into your mouth, his fist keeping your head in place as he forced his cock as deep as it could go. He set a punishing pace, fucking your face with every ounce of the brutality you knew he kept locked up right in his chest, hidden from the world.

Now, hidden from everyone but you.

You both needed to let go of control, to surrender to the truth in your heart, and with each other, it was starting to seem not only possible, but safe.

“Such a good fucking slut, gagging on my cock—this what you wanted? To be pushed to your limits?” Bill clutched your jaw with his other hand, feeling the strain in your muscles, the force of him stretching your mouth wider, and he groaned, head tipping back on his shoulders. “I'm gonna mold that pretty little throat in the shape of my cock, yeah? You're mine. This throat is mine.”

You could only whimper, taking every savage thrust like it was a gift from god. More than happy to worship at the altar of Bill Weasley.

He withdrew suddenly, leaving you gasping for air, a thread of drool on connecting you. He craned your head back, lifting you until your hands left the mattress, back bent like a doll.

“This is it now, you understand? I won't go back.” His voice was rough with intensity, eyes shining with sincerity, vulnerability despite his hold on you.

“This is it,” you repeated, shuffling your knees underneath you and reaching for him. He loosened his hold so you could wrap your arms around his neck, molding your tender mouth against his in an attempt to convey what your were feeling, how much you needed him.

He kissed you back harder as thunder boomed above you, tongue twining with yours, and low groan loosened from his chest. He released you fully, sliding his hands down your back and scooping you up by your thighs, guiding your legs around his waist.

He held you aloft for a few moments, basking in the heat of the kiss, but it wasn't long until you were squirming in his hold, trying to create more friction between your bodies as desire blazed under your skin, raging like the storm outside.

In a quick movement, he broke the kiss and dropped you back onto the bed, sprawled on your back. Before you had time to process what happened, his rough hands forced your thighs apart, revealing the puffy, drippy state of you. One of his hands slid up to part your folds, exposing your sensitive bundle of nerves to the cool air of the room.

Again, you had the echo of the feeling that you were an artifact under his jurisdiction, being examined with the utmost attention, like the code to cracking you open was written on your skin.

Bill saw you down to the soul, and it terrified and exhilarated you in equal measure.

“You're perfect,” he murmured, moving to ease his middle finger inside of you, curling his knuckle to prod that gooey spot inside you and draw a moan from your lips. “The most beautiful curse I've ever had to break.”

“Bill,” you whined, hands grabbing at the sheets, hips trying to rock against his hand, needing more.

He smirked. “Seems I've already broken you, needy little thing. Haven't even gotten started.” He leaned down, laving his tongue over your clit before sucking it between his teeth, and you keened, vision tunneling as bliss washed over you. The relief so palpable it brought tears to your eyes.

He added a second finger, setting a slow but intense pace, stretching and molding you with his fingers, his mouth messily slurping on your clit to keep you loose and moaning beneath him. Pleasure signed every nerve, burning through your muscles like lactic acid, eating into your bones until they were gelatinous, a puddle of simpering goo on Bill’s bed. He was doing just enough to elicit pleasure but not enough to make you cum, and it was starting to make you desperate again, bucking your hips against him in search of more.

“Hush,” he scolded, swatting at your inner thigh when you opened your mouth to beg. “You'll be begging me to stop coming soon enough.”

You couldn't tell if it was a promise or a threat, but either way, you snapped your mouth shut, a fresh wave of arousal making your pussy clench around his fingers.

He took some mercy on you though, and picked up the pace with his fingers fucking you with his hand while he kissed up your stomach, leaving a trail of slick from his chin over your stomach to your tits. He guided a pert nipple into his mouth, lashing it with his tongue before sucking hard, and your back bowed off the bed as you cried out for him.

You tangled your fingers into his hair, urging him closer, and he obliged, bathing your tits with his lips and tongue, using his teeth to elicit sharp gasps of pain before soothing the sting with pleasure. Your orgasm began to build, winding like a gear in your low belly until you were barely able to breathe, every scrap of energy drawn to the apex of your thighs.

“Merlin, your tight, love,” he murmured against the side of your tit, kissing his way back down between your legs. “Ready to come for me?”

“Please, Bill—fuck, please,” you mewled, dragging him by the hair to your needy clit.

“So pretty when you beg,” he purred, swirling his tongue just around your clit, careful to avoid direct contact. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You,” you immediately answered, trying to chase his tongue with your pelvis. “I'm yours, Bill.”

He grinned. “That's right. Mine.” With that, he fastened his lips around your clit and sucked hard, curling his fingers against your g-spot at the same moment, and something inside you gave way. You came with a scream, bliss bursting through like a tsunami and dragging you under.

It filled your mind and soul, an endless torrent of bliss drowning you in its bottomless depth. When if finally spit you back out, gasping and overwrought on the shore of Bill's bed, he was still lapping at you, his face and shirt soaked with your release.

“Good fucking girl, well done,” he cooed, withdrawing his fingers to massage the ache from your trembling thighs, his tongue dipping down to drink at the pool of your pleasure. “Twice more, now. That's my girl.”

You shook your head, feeling like a wrung out sponge, but sure enough, Bill has to ratcheted back up in no time, screaming his name, clenching around his fingers as you came a second and third time. It was like magic, the way he coaxed your body into doing what he wanted, even when you thought you couldn't. Playing you like an instrument, drawing whatever song he wanted from your body.

When you came down from the third, twitching and raw, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, he finally relented.

“Did so well, darling,” he cooed, easing his fingers from you and licking them clean. “Are you alright?” He asked, resting his cheek on your thigh as you caught your breath.

You nodded, grasping at his hair again to pull him up your body. He obliged with a chuckle, letting you crash your mouth to his in a desperate, messy kiss, your essence on his tongue making your head spin even more.

“Fuck me, please,” you mumbled into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist and tugging him fully onto the bed.

“Insatiable,” he purred with approval, shifting to slide down his sweatpants fully and kicking them off. He grasped himself, sawing through your drenched slit with a groan. “This was all I could think about in Cairo,” he rasped. “Being balls deep in this fucking pussy, feeling your wrapped around me, squeezing my cock the way you do my fingers.”

“Please, baby. Need you so bad,” you whined, rocking your hips in time with his.

“Need doesn't begin to cover what I'm feeling.” His voice was a strained growl, a primal sort of plea, and it drew another whimper from your chest. “You remember your safe word?” He asked, nearly trembling with effort of not burying himself to the hilt.

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He shuddered, a breathy moan fanning against your neck, as his control severed. He slammed his cock into you, sheathing himself completely in your depths, and you both cried out, clinging to one another as he dragged his hips back, then slammed them forward again and again. Rutting into you like a feral beast. Brutalizing every inch of your overworked pussy, your overworked mind, until you were brainless, boneless, his to claim entirely.

“Feels even fucking better—shit, baby. So fucking tight and hot, so wet f’me. My perfect little cunt takin’ me so well.”

You could only moan and nod, eager as a bobblehead. “Yours,” you parroted, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“Mine,” he gruffed, yanking your head back by your hair so he could ravish your neck with his teeth and tongue.

You were so sensitive from before that you could already feel that knot tightening a fourth time, making you flutter and clench around him as he railed you.

“Come for me, love. Give it to me,” he growled, his free hand dipping down to work your clit, his thrusts growing rougher by the second. Tearing you apart on his cock.

Nothing else would ever satisfy you the way he was, he was molding you into the shape of him, ruining you for anyone else. No one could please you the way he did, understand your body so viscerally, so completely, that it bowed to him before it did you.

He owned you mind, body, and soul, and you wouldn't have it any other way, because you knew that you owned him too. Like a lion on a leash.

“Come with me, come with me,” you cried, your trembling body trying to meet him thrust for thrust.

“Fuck yes,” he huffed, breath hot and heavy against your neck. “Gonna paint this cunt white. Make you mine.”

“Yes, yes! Fuck, Bill, I’m—” You came so hard you couldn't even scream, your mouth falling open as pleasure exploded from your center, a bomb detonating in the depths of your soul.

Bill sank in his teeth into your neck, bottoming out while his cock kicked inside of you, fulfilling his promise and painting your insides with his release. You collapsed onto the bed, scattered pieces in the swallow of space, half-there with Bill as he fucked you both through it, kissing at your neck and muttering praise, and half-gone, a disembodied soul floating on a river of bliss.

Slowly, you returned piece by piece until air slammed back into your lungs and you were gasping, shivering, clinging desperately to him.

“Sh, sh I’ve got you. You're alright,” he shushed, shifting on the bed to fold you into his chest, raining kisses over your forehead and temple. “You did so well, my love. I'm so proud of you.”

“That was—” you panted, feeling the race of his heart under his skin, in perfect synchronicity with yours.

“I've never felt anything like that,” he murmured, nosing into your hair and taking a deep breath. “Like you.”

“Me neither.” You wrapped your arms around his middle snuggling closer. “You're a madman,” you chuckled, and you felt him smile.

“Only for you.”

You were quiet for awhile, the room filled with the sounds of your laborers breathing, the onslaught of rain on the roof, the pop and crackle of the fire.

“I'm sorry for leaving like that before,” Bill whispered, breaking the drowsy quiet. “I didn't trust myself to not lash out…” his voice trailed off, his hands tightening a bit around your body, like he was scared you'd pull away from him at the reminder of before.

“Thank you for trying to protect me,” you responded, lightly tracing the scars along his back, and tension in his body melted.

“Nothing’s going to hurt you, especially not me,” he said, lifting his head to look into your eyes, his dark irises so soft and sincere. “You really think you could fall for me?” He asked, bumping your nose with his.

“I think I've already started,” you whispered, bashful, and he beamed, catching your lips in a light, languid kiss.

“I know I was supposed to be the one teaching you…” he murmured against your mouth, kissing along your jaw, down your neck. “But you've opened my eyes so much, helped me learn the lessons I was avoiding—” his voice caught, and he buried his face in your neck, holding your naked body pressed against his, not even air separating you. “I feel like I can be the man I want to be with you,” he confessed, pressing a kiss to the bite mark he'd left along the curve of your throat. “Like I don't have to hide anymore.”

“You're mine too,” you whispered, and he loosed a breathy sound, almost like a whine, and held you even tighter. “And I want you exactly as wild and stubborn and clever and complex as you are.”

Bill shifted upwards, catching your final words with his mouth, moving purposefully, indulgently, against yours. Saying everything he couldn't express with words, and your heart was so full it started leaking from your eyes, tears snaking down your cheeks and getting caught in the kiss.

He moved his lips to catch your tears, shushing you softly. “I'm yours,” he said, pecking your lips again. “And I have those good-for-nothing jackasses to thank for it.”

You burst out laughing, flopping back onto his pillows. “They're going to be so damn smug.”

Bill groaned, burying his face in your tits. “Worth it when I get to show you off and crush their dreams.”

“They'll live,” you giggled, combing your fingers through his hair.

Bill's alarm suddenly blared from the side table. “Silencio,” he barked, and the clock fell silent once again. “We're calling out,” he mumbled.

You nodded, sleep already starting to tug at you, your limbs going heavy on the mattress. “As long as the boss says it's okay.”

He huffed a laugh. “Good thing he's a pretty laid back guy.”

You rolled your eyes behind closed lids, and hummed in agreement. That was a lesson for another day.

Thank you so much for reading and supporting this series! This is the last part of the core series, but I'm considering doing a few extra drabbles that go along with it (let me know if there's anything in particular you want to see!)

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[wisteria-blooms]

P A R A D I S E // P O T I O N S!

PAIRING: Bill Weasley & You  WARNINGS: smut!! so much smut!!, oral (giving, receiving), piv, sex pollen trope, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, creampies, all the makings of a bad porn plot **MINORS DNI** SUMMARY: As per Percy’s recommendation to his mother, you’re tasked to house-sit the Burrow while the family is away for the Quidditch World Cup. You’re Percy's closest friend and much like him, you are more than wary of his mischievous twin brothers, Fred and George. But what if their machinations lead you to something you’ve always dreamt of coming true? (8.0k words)

A/N: Been going through a bit of writer’s block recently, so hopefully a load of debauchery (as big as Bill's) breaks down that wall. I’ve been mad at how my sentences are coming out—they sound so redundant and boring. Also, I’m not great at editing my smut scenes because I get embarrassed reading them, so enjoy at your own risk. ;)

PARADISE POTIONS!

There was an undeniable feeling of late summer that nestled in the morning air, a pleasant marriage of warmth and wind. As you trekked up a tall, grassy hill, you breathed it all in. You were in disbelief that August had snuck up on you so suddenly. That meant only two weeks left of freedom before you were confined to a cubicle in the Ministry of Magic, wasting your life away.

‘It won’t be so bad’, you reminded yourself. After all, Percy Weasley would be there alongside you in the same department. He was your most supportive and reliable friend, contrary to popular opinion. And it’d been him that pitched the idea that you house sit the Burrow while he and his family were away at the Quidditch World Cup. Apparently, he’d told Molly that you were mature, responsible, and ‘very much like him.’ You had to tease him about the compliment he threw in about himself. 

Molly would provide you room and board for the next week. Your tasks mainly included upkeep of the garden, feeding the animals, and ensuring the home didn’t seem completely empty as the whole family vacationed. Molly simply hated to keep an empty house. 

“Good morning, Perce!” you greeted with a wave when you reached the tip of the hill.

He waved back from the main entrance. Then, he motioned for your luggage. 

“How was your journey?”

“Uneventful,” you affirmed. “Though the walk up was great exercise. I feel very much awake now.”

“It’s quite the trek,” he agreed.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the orientation at the Ministry we had last week,” you gushed. “I’m so excited to start work.”

“Me too,” Percy agreed with a nod. 

“Mum would like to have you in for a spot of breakfast,” Percy said.

“I’d be delighted.” You heard excellent things about Molly Weasley’s breakfasts. 

Percy held the door open for you. The windchimes sounded from above you, signaling your entrance. You brushed past a fluttery overhead curtain. When the material unveiled itself, you came face to face with a long dining table. There were only six occupants: Ginny, Ron, the infamous Harry Potter, Hermione, Charlie, and Bill. You gave a small wave to the younger kids. They nodded wordlessly. You reckoned that in their eyes, any friend of Percy’s must be some masochist deviant. 

To the side, Arthur was chatting with who you supposed was Amos Diggory, combing through their plans. 

“Good morning, (Y/N) dear,” Molly greeted. You were glad she thought of you just as prim and proper and organized as her third-eldest son. 

You took a seat with Percy. He sat where his newspaper and coffee mug laid, right in front of Charlie. With a nervous smile, you sat to his right and…

Your eyes immediately landed on Bill. He was Percy’s eldest brother, and by far the most handsome. You were embarrassed to admit that you’d always fancied him. Not in the soul-crushing-adult-love kind of way, but in a silly schoolgirl way. He was so tall, so subtly muscly from sports. And he was a little more fun than Percy, though you’d never tell him that. 

But given that you were so young, there was no viable chance of anything happening. So, you chose to admire him from afar in the two years you overlapped schooling. You were now eighteen like Percy, but you maintained the fact Bill still saw you as a child, nothing else. It was an infatuation that would hurt no one, so you just let it be. 

“Good morning, (Y/N).”

You suppressed a smile as he acknowledged you. 

“Good morning, Bill.”

“Good morning, (Y/N),” sang Charlie. 

You smiled. “Hi, Charlie.” Charlie was quite the handful. You preferred Bill’s calmness than Charlie’s calamity. 

“I see it’s you who was tasked with watching our house,” Bill said. “I couldn’t have chosen better myself.”

“Thank you, Bill.” That compliment was going into your pocket for a rainy day. 

Bill was still ever so handsome, appearances aging like fine wine, with his soft ginger locks that framed his sharp cheekbones. His blue eyes glinted in the morning sun. You peeked at his chiselled jaw and his—dare you say—kissable lips. His t-shirt barely hid the muscles in his arms. He might’ve been tall and predisposed to being lankier compared to Charlie, but you knew he had his own ways to keep fit. 

You were so busy being entranced by Bill that you’d lost track of time and space. All you knew was that it was the best morning ever, sitting in front of him, surrounded by faint windchimes and the chirping birds outside to the window. Breakfast hadn’t even been served and you were already salivating thinking about Bill doing push-ups under the hot Egyptian sun, and that wasn’t even that deep in the gutter where most of your thoughts laid, in fact—

Suddenly, a large explosion reverberated through the house and shook the table. It jolted you and Percy. You yelped and ducked. When you regained your sense of place, you looked up. No one else besides you and Percy were fazed. 

“What was that?” you asked Percy, trying to settle your heart. 

“Fred! George!” Molly cried, walking over to the stairs with her spatula still in hand. “What have I told you about your experiments?”

“Sorry, mum,” George said, running down the stairs, a smidge of ash on his face. “That’s it for today, I promise.”

“I don’t want to hear this again, ever!” Molly shrieked. Then, she calmed down when she realised she was in front of guests. “Well, if that’s it, then help out a little bit, won’t you? We have to get going in less than an hour.”

“Sure thing,” George said with a smile. He ran over to the table and to the coffee pot. He gave it a jiggle, letting the remaining liquid slosh around. “Anyone need a top up of their coffee?”

“Mum made that pot, you can trust it,” Percy advised.

“Thank you,” you whispered back, and then looked up at George, “I wouldn’t mind a cup.”

George sauntered over and poured you a cup. “Coffee, Bill?” he asked. 

“That sounds good,” Bill responded.

“You’ll have to wait another ten minutes then,” George said with a frown. He tapped the empty glass container. “I’ve just run out. If only (Y/N) didn’t drink for two.”

“Quit it,” Percy warned his brother with a low tone. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. You were about to offer Bill your cup when Percy held out a hand to stop you. 

“Keep it,” Percy countered as she shoved the white mug back to your side. “I wouldn’t trust anything they put out. I’m glad it’s you that took the last of what mum made.”

You kept your voice quiet and giggled. “I hope Bill has an iron stomach, then.”

Percy nodded. 

While Percy could be harsh on his siblings, you were grateful for his looking out for you. To be fair, you were also skittish around Fred and George. They weren’t as easy to read as other people. A friendly smile often meant something sinister. 

“Would anyone like some liqueur in your morning beverage?” Fred asked, skipping three steps as he ran down the stairs. He reached underneath his coat as if selling contraband. “I have whatever tickles your fancy. In fact, Georgie and I have been working on something we reckon will be extremely profitable.”

Molly shot him a glare. You shook your head politely. 

“Don’t feel like you have to respond to his foolishness,” advised Percy. “He doesn’t deserve your time of day.”

“Loosen up, (Y/N),” Fred commanded. “If you hang around Percy all day and refuse any fun, you’ll both die virgins.”

You went beet red immediately. It was a shade that rivalled Percy’s in speed and depth. You prayed that Bill wasn’t paying attention to you. 

“That is ENOUGH!” bellowed Molly who whipped around so quickly that she nearly decapitated George with her wooden spoon. She’d reached her boiling point. “I won’t have you ruining our morning with your distasteful conversations, especially with all our guests presents.” She charged over to Fred and handed him a stack of plates. “Go on, make yourself useful and set the table.”

“(Y/N), darling,” Molly said, her sudden change in tone a little frightening. “I’ve cleared out Bill’s old room for you. Since he’s heading back to Egypt right after the World Cup, he’ll share Charlie’s room for the time for the last night. There are fresh sheets and towels and a change of clothes if you need. You are welcome to use the bath right next to the room.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.” Fred’s comment about your virginity went through one of Molly’s ears and out the other. Thank Merlin. 

“Coffee’s ready, dear brother,” George sang. “How do you take it?”

“Just black,” Bill responded. “Thank you, George.”

You peered at Bill through a sip of coffee. Your heart fluttered again. Summers were really the best. It was the only chance to see him again for a flicker of time, an hour or two, before he travelled halfway across the world again. In this case, in a week. As the meal went on, you stared at him so intently during breakfast that your fork speared your cheek instead of your mouth multiple times.

When breakfast concluded, you assured Molly that you’d take care of the dishes and ushered her to the door.

“I hope you have a nice time,” you said to Ron and his friends. He mumbled a thanks. You smiled at him, happy that you were making some progress with Percy’s younger brother. Your peace was ruined by Fred and George murmuring amongst themselves excitedly. You hoped it was about the World Cup and nothing else. 

Arthur was doing a routine headcount when he asked: “Where’s Bill?”

“He said he had some emergency work to finish up for the bank,” Charlie said. “Keep the portkey open for him for another hour, and he’ll be sure to make it by then.”

“If you need anything,” Percy said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You know where to find me.”

You nodded.

After the Weasleys left, you locked the door and headed back into the house. Knowing Bill was upstairs working, you got to tidying the kitchen in the quietest manner you could. You hoped the running water and the occasional clinking of dishes wasn’t bothering him. It would be really embarrassing if he came down to complain about the noise. 

After the kitchen was cleaned, you went outside to trim the shrubs, water the plants, and feed the cows. You forced yourself not to peek at the front door to see if Bill had left. He probably had, and it hurt a bit that he’d gone without saying goodbye. 

The temperature had risen dramatically since you arrived in the morning, and by the time you were done, you were a sweaty mess. Bill had likely gone which meant you’d have the house to yourself. You caved into the idea of a long bath to wipe the mud and grime off your body. You dashed up to the main washroom Molly offered you and began running the water. 

When you were finished with your bath, you wrapped a clean towel around you and proceeded to your room. Maybe you could do some reading and take a nap before deciding on dinner, Your chest tingled when you realised it was Bill’s old room—how lucky were you?  The first thing you noticed when you entered was that Bill’s room was clean and sparse. Molly had left a window cracked open to allow for a gentle breeze, and placed your clothes on the bed. You took a couple steps forward and let your towel drop on the floor to reach for your tank top when suddenly…

Your hand met a tuft of hair. Hair that was attached to a pale, sweaty head. 

You screamed as you tumbled back, your bare bum hitting the wooden floor. Oh, where the heck was your wand when you needed it? You grabbed a pair of slippers in self-defence. 

“Who’s there?” you said in the bravest voice you could muster. “You need to get out of here, now!”

The thing in the bed just groaned weakly. You saw a pale, shaking arm stick out of the covers. Whatever it was, it was at least human, hopefully. 

Your hand grappled the top of the desk for your wand. Once you found it, you rose cautiously from the floor with the intent to peel away the covers. You’d dealt with Boggarts; you’d seen your worst nightmares in person. You treaded cautiously because the creature could rise at any moment. But it didn’t, forcing you to get closer. 

Your heart almost stopped when your hands grasped the hem of the covers. Your life flashed before your eyes. You needed to survive. You needed to live to work with Percy at the Ministry come September. You needed to live for your family. You needed to live for the off chance Bill Weasley shared the same feelings as you—oh, you were about to die, what was the point of thinking about Bill?

With your wand in an offensive position, you ripped the sheets off. 

But there was nothing.

Nothing at all.

What?

It took you a few seconds to process it, but this… thing wasn’t a creature at all. In fact, it was Bill Weasley. Well, an apparition of him of sorts. He looked extremely pale and sickly, his skin the shade of paper. His ginger hair stuck to his face, his sweat binding it like it was wet glue. There was an intense warmth radiating from his skin, and his body jostled slightly as the cold air hit him.

“Bill? You called out in complete disbelief. “Are—are you okay?”

He groaned in response. Slowly, he turned his head towards you. He looked even worse up close, or as worse as Bill Weasley could possibly look. His eyebrows were intensely furrowed, his breathing laboured, and he could barely open those pretty eyes of his—oh, not this again! Bill looked to be on death’s bed and all you were thinking about was how handsome he was. 

“I don’t know what happened,” Bill breathed out. His voice was a mere rasp. “I was feeling fine this morning. I can hardly get up now. And I can’t talk,” he coughed as if to prove a point, “above a whisper.”

“Are you running a fever?” you inquired, concern thick in your voice. 

“No, I don’t think—,” Bill mustered the strength to open his eyes. He looked startled. “(Y/N)?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“Where…”

You looked at Bill intently.

“Where are your clothes?”

“Huh?”

You looked down. Your mouth went slack. You were barer than the day you were born. 

“Shit!” you exclaimed. “I’m sorry, don’t look, don’t look, sorry, sorry!” So caught up in the heat of things, you’d haphazardly abandoned your towel in exchange for your life. You scampered back to retrieve it and tied it back on yourself. When you looked up, Bill was, fortunately, turned away, and only a sliver of his naked back was visible to you. 

“Is there anything I can help with?” you asked in a state of panic. ‘Besides giving you a show?’ On the inside, you had to laugh at the thought of a striptease benefiting Bill’s health.

Bill was looking worse for wear with every passing second, and you were just prancing around without clothes. “Your mother keeps potions in the cabinet, doesn’t she? I’ll go find an antipyretic--”

Bill swiped at his forehead with his palm. “I don’t think it’s a fever, well, to the best of my knowledge.”

“Then perhaps some water?” you offered. “Or some soup?”

“(Y/N),” Bill called. Your name rolled off like velvet from his lips. “Come here, please.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart was beating erratically and whether it was out of fear or anticipation, you didn’t know. Still, you complied and began walking over. The floor felt like pricks underneath your feet. 

“Could you please take these sheets off?” Bill asked. “I might try to cool down.”

You nodded. “S-sure.” You pinched the hem of the bedsheet with your forefinger and thumb and carefully stripped the sheet off. Every second that passed unveiled a new, delicious sight: Bill’s toned chest, the crevice between his chest and abdominal muscles, the veins running down his forearms, and the shapely twin creases that led straight down to his briefs. A chill of disappointment ran through your body when you realised he was still clothed. 

‘Stay focussed’, you pleaded with yourself. You were here to help Bill, not to take advantage of him.

“Is that better?” you asked Bill, but your eyes weren’t on his face. They were instead fixated on the centre of his body and namely, the very present bulge at the apex of his black briefs. His manhood had tented so viciously that it stretched the black fabric until it was translucent. Was that a spot of pink flesh or were you just seeing things? You gulped and tried to reign in your imagination. 

Bill breathed out as the cool air kissed his skin. “Marginally.”

“I can bring the fan inside the room,” you suggested so quickly you almost toppled off the bed. 

“Wait.” Bill’s hand grabbed your wrist before you could get anywhere. Your skin scorched. “Can you help me with one more thing?”

You were about to explode. “Sure, Bill.” 

“Could you help me remove my briefs too?”

Your jaw had, at this point, permanently detached from your face. “What?”

“Just one last thing and my temperature should regulate itself.”

Was stripping really a remedy to Bill’s ailment? Shaking your head, you decided to help him in any way possible before running back to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face to ascertain that you weren’t dreaming. This definitely had to be a dream. Today probably hadn’t even started yet. Any minute now, your alarm would ring and you would wake up so disappointed. 

“Alright.”

Slowly, you hooked your fingers underneath the elastic waistband of Bill’s briefs. His blue eyes fluttered close and his face twisted in relief. You suppressed a groan at the sight of Bill like this, pleasured by your every touch.

You’d never admit that Fred was right in his observation this morning, but it was true that you’d never seen a… penis in the flesh. But there was no turning away now as your hands worked to expose every inch of pink flesh hiding underneath Bill’s undergarments. It was deliciously lewd, the way his long cock sprang out from the confines of his boxers and nearly slapping you in the face. A tad closer, and the appendage would’ve swiped your cheek. Just inches in front you pulsed a swelling, oozing pink tip that was connected to a thick shaft that only seemed to grow slightly in girth as you stripped him. 

You had nothing but anatomical pictures and the circumference of your wrist to compare him to, but even you knew he was bigger than average. Bill had, truly, the prettiest cock to ever exist. Pale, smooth, pink, but an angrier shade coloured the head. He was thick, but even thicker near the base. Veins painted his manhood like art. You almost had to wonder how he’d feel inside you, splitting your virgin pussy open. It would kill you.

Holy shit. You had to stop thinking, because you were getting yourself wet. 

Bill raised his hips up to help you bring the last bit of his briefs down from underneath him. Your hand grazed the back of his thigh. The unintended action elicited a not-so-subtle moan from Bill. 

“I’m sorry, I—,” Bill said, pushing himself up on the bed. His neck was flushed crimson and his breathing heavy. You had plummeted into the ocean with the saltwater flooding your ears; you could barely hear. You gulped as a bead of wetness suddenly spurted out of the tip of his cock and threatened to run down the length of it. “I reckon I was cursed or hexed by someone,” he surmised. “It’s not like me to require such things of you, or anyone for that matter.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. Your hand was turning white with the deathgrip on your towel. “But Bill, did that… help?”

The smartest thing to do was to remove yourself from this conversation and call for help, but you kept pressing the topic. You planted your palms on the mattress and looked on in awe. Bill was well-endowed beyond your wildest dreams. You couldn’t stop admiring him.

Forgetting he was naked, Bill sat up. His cock curled closer to his navel as a result. “What?”

You ripped your eyes away from the bead of precum that’d captivated your attention. “When we touched. It seemed to bring some colour to your face.”

“Come to think of it, I reckon it did, yeah,” Bill responded. He furrowed his brows, his words dying on his lips. There was only one direction this conversation was going to go and you had steered it off the overpass and down the cliff. 

You spoke up first. “Have you tried touching…”

“Myself?” Bill finished with a chuckle.

You blushed. “Yes, well,” you countered. “It’s not entirely unreasonable, and—”

“I have.”

You tilted your head. “And?”

Bill attempted to lift his hands, but they gravitated down to the bed. “Well, I’ve… tried,” he admitted sheepishly, “but it’s made it worse.” He chuckled and shook his head at the state he was in. “And now I can’t even manage to move my arm.”

“Oh.” You frowned. “But when I touched you, you felt better?”

Bill blew out some air which tickled the wet hair on his forehead. He gestured to his raging erection. “Can you… would you mind? You’re right, it might help.”

Would you mind?

Of course you wouldn’t. 

“I’ve never, erm,” you countered. A blaze of heat rushed to your cheeks. You didn’t want to admit to Bill that Fred was right when he clocked you as a virgin, though it didn’t take a deep understanding of your person to come to that conclusion. You and Percy both looked down on dalliances as prefects back in school, even busting students in the act and sending them to be reprimanded. You reckoned Bill was going to find it uncool but it was better to be truthful. “I’ve never done this with anyone.”

He chuckled. “I figured.”

You wanted to shrivel up and die. 

“But it’s absolutely fine,” Bill correctly quickly, knowing he’d offended you slightly. “You don’t need to have done it to know how to do it. I’ll guide you.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

He did his best to motion to the base of him with his hands. “Grip me firmly down here.” 

You obliged, holding him at the base with your right hand as you clutched your towel in the other. For an usually flaccid body part, Bill was very, very hard and warm. All the blood in his body was concentrated into one area, so it made sense. You were grateful when your thumb still managed to touch the tips of your fingers because, well, he was quite big and you weren’t confident he was going to fit in your hand. 

“Move up and down,” Bill instructed in between heavy pants. You nodded. When you started shifting your hand from the base to the head and back, he let out a low groan. His skin felt like velvet in your hands; he felt so good. “Yeah, just like that.” Precum dribbled from Bill and onto from the side of your fingers as you moved faster and covered more ground. Bill’s eyes alternated from open to close in erratic intervals as you began to adjust your speed and the tightness of your fingers around him. When Bill stopped talking, you reckoned you were doing a pretty damn good job. 

Bill was powerless underneath you and you relinquished the feeling. But you wanted more. 

So, you shifted from the edge of the bed towards the end of it, squeezing yourself in between his long legs. You never took your hands off him in the process so Bill was none the wiser about your mischievous movements. So, it was only when Bill heard the creaking of the bed that he looked up in surprise. By then, it was too late. You had already stopped pumping his shaft and leaned in to inhale the sweet musk instead.

“Can I?” you asked, batting your eyelashes.

Bill inhaled sharply, his cock duking out his brain for once the last shred of modesty. Oh, fuck modesty. “Only if you want to.”

In one swift motion, you leaned in and kissed the red and leaking tip. Clearly, it was you who really wanted to do this. When the soft skin of your lips met the soft skin of his head, Bill let out an audible gasp that was immediately swallowed by a throaty moan. He was not expecting you to be so brazen, so generous in your help. Little did he know you’d do anything for him at this point, his own affliction long forgotten. 

“How does that feel?” you asked.

“Amazing,” he rasped.

You licked the precum—salty, a little tingly, you noted—off his slit with the tip of your tongue. He tasted so good. Bill threw his head back. The ridges of his abs crinkled as he tried to hold himself upright with his elbows on the bed. He wanted to see you. You smacked your lips, unable to wait patiently to devour your meal. Then, in a moment of pure deviousness and sheer horniness, you enveloped Bill’s tip around your mouth.

“Shit!” 

This was the last thing Bill said before he fell back onto the bed. You took that as a sign of surrender; what you were doing felt too good for him to keep his defences up. He’d long stopped giving you instructions and let you take reign. Emboldened, you licked the slit with your tongue with Bill still nestled in your mouth. You then began to take him in further, as far as you could before he reached a natural stopping point at the back of your throat. Your mouth tensed—he was too big to fit comfortably inside. You sucked in your cheeks, hypothesising that a tighter fit would feel better for Bill. Sure, you were inexperienced, but you weren’t stupid or ignorant on the subject of what was pleasurable. 

“Yes, that’s it, (Y/N), just like that.”

You forewent your towel in favour of holding onto Bill’s thighs, placing one hand on the side of each of his legs. Still, you pressed your breasts down on the bed to hide your nipples to preserve what little was left for Bill to still see. Then again, what was the point of dignity when his dick was in your mouth?

Bill’s hands quietly crept along the bedsheets and floated towards your head. From there, his long fingers wove and nestled themselves in your hair so deeply that it wouldn’t be easy for you to untangle yourself. Clever of him. His fingernails glided across your scalp, slowly, tenderly, like a predator circling their prey before the attack. Bill then started guiding your head up and down slowly, his patience clearly wearing thin and needing to take matters into his own hands--literally. 

“Feeling okay?” he asked.

You nodded, unable to speak. Bill noted this and chuckled. You gave him a pointed look. 

“Hard to look intimidating with my cock in your mouth, love,” he said, tightening his fingers around your hair. You grumbled something unintelligible. The wetness leaking out of your core spoke volumes for you. 

Bill’s hands were fully entangled in your hair as he continued to lift you up and down. Slow at first, but he could hardly contain himself after the first minute. The way his big cock pulsed in your mouth, gods… The faster he commanded you to move, the more his visage grew streaked from the tears in your eyes. You tightened your grip on his thighs every time his cock glided across your palate and pushed itself down your throat. You did everything in your power to not gag or choke, but when he did strike particularly deep, you pulled off of him immediately. 

“I’m sorry,” Bill quickly said. “Was that too much?”

You shook your head, wiped a wet line of tears from your face, coughed, and responded, “No, I’m fine.”

You crawled back to him and engulfed him without another word.

“Ah,” Bill breathed out. “Fuck, (Y/N). You feel so good.”

You shouldn’t be enjoying being used so much, but you loved it. Loved it especially when Bill held you in place and began thrusting into your mouth instead as a means to conserve effort and increase his speed. You were growing wetter and wetter with every compliment he spoke. You imagined Bill’s big hands gripping your hips, stilling you, as he thrust repeatedly into your pussy. You wanted to be used everywhere. 

“Shit,” he growled, lazy eyes hovering on you. Deliciously lazy and so hazy. “I’m close.”

He stopped thrusting, but you hadn’t stopped bobbing your head up and down. You were so far gone in your quest to make Bill come that you’d thrown your own needs aside. 

“Hold on, (Y/N),” Bill commanded. “Don’t you want to—ah—!”

You knew he’d reached his climax when his hips ascended and stilled above the bed. A deep moan left his mouth. Bill’s cock twitched heavily with every rope of cum that shot its way into your mouth. He didn’t quit until every crevice of your mouth was sloshing with his seed; he was a never-ending faucet of cum. 

After a minute, you finally detached yourself from him, careful to keep the fruits of your labour in your mouth and not on the bed sheets that Bill’s mother had laundered so well. You swallowed all the cum in your mouth. It wasn’t as pleasant as the books and films had made it out to be—it was warm and slightly bitter, but it was Bill’s and heaven knew you’d do anything for him.

Bill threw himself back on the bed, his head meeting the pillow with a soft thud. He was still breathing heavily as he reposed. Though his hair stuck wildly to his cheeks—which were slowly regaining colour—his face expressed newfound calm. 

Bill patted the pillow beside him, on the spot in between the wall and his body. “Come here,” he rasped, his eyes still closed. 

You obliged and scooted upwards. Bill splayed his arm on the pillow to give you a makeshift headrest. You settled into the nook of his bicep. Through the corner of your eye, you stole little glances at Bill and the rise and fall of his chest. A warm, midday breeze fluttered through the open windows, the red curtains billowing out. Everything was so serene, so tranquil, so…Holy shit, what had you just done? 

Just three hours ago, you were wistfully staring at Bill at breakfast, grateful to have seen him at all this year to feed your starving crush on him. Now, you were laying naked in his bed with him after giving him what you hoped was an acceptable blowjob. It was both great and terrible that you wouldn’t see him after today. How would you explain this to anyone if you couldn’t even believe it yourself? You needed to bolt and never see Bill again. 

Bill snapped you out of your trance. “(Y/N)?” 

“Yes, Bill?”

You turned around to find yourself reflected in his crystal blue eyes. 

“Would you like to finish, too?”

“Oh, uhm!” Well, you hadn’t expected him to ask you that. “No, I’m okay.” An utter lie. Your pussy was pleading to be fucked. You sat up, preparing yourself to go. “I should finish up with my chores. You should get going before the portkey closes.” 

Bill grasped your wrist again. “I don’t want to go.” He sat up with you and looked you straight in the eye. 

He was serious. The intensity of his gaze was so overwhelming that you looked down. You sucked a quiet breath in. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he said, placing a hand on your cheek. “Let me, please.”

You choked. Was Bill Weasley begging to go down on you? The resolute look on his face definitely extinguished any fight you had left in you. A fraction of a second after you nodded, Bill turned you over and kissed you. One hand remained on your cheek while the other wrapped itself around your naked waist to pull you closer until your chest was flush against his. If you weren’t focussed on how hard his lips were pressed on yours, you would’ve been more embarrassed about how your pert nipples were pressed against his chest. Bill obviously didn’t mind, in fact, he was trying to pull you in as close as possible, closing the last sliver of space between your bodies. 

Bill tilted his head to deepen the kiss. His lips felt like hard silk—a walking contradiction— against you and now you wished to feel them everywhere: on your neck, on your breasts, on your stomach and in between your legs. You reckoned he should kiss heavily in between your legs. 

Bill was all lean muscle and long limbs. He couldn’t splay out on the bed as easily as you could. He landed on his knees, then shifted you upwards until your head was resting against the baseboard of the bed. He spread your legs with his hands—so big that they absolutely swallowed you—using his thumb as anchors. 

He looked back up at you. His eyes had darkened significantly, like a sudden storm that had broken through a clear day. Whatever drug was flowing through his veins, it was only growing more potent. “You’re so wet.” 

You made an attempt to shut your legs. You were cycling through moments of confidence and embarrassment, and his words made you want to curl up and die.

“Don’t,” Bill said. “You turn me on so much. Who knew that behind such an innocent facade was a girl begging to be fucked?”

And just like that, your legs fell open in one buttery smooth motion. 

”That’s it, such a good girl for me,” Bill praised. He leaned in and ran his tongue flat over your folds. You squirmed but his iron-clad hold on you prohibited any movement. You tried so very hard to quiet yourself as his tongue painted you in oscillating strokes. You gasped whenever he landed briefly on your clitoris. He hummed, pleased, and let the vibrations rock your body. Your breathing was dangerously unsteady as Bill pulled you closer to him and increased the intensity of his tongue. He unlatched one hand from your thigh and shifted them near your drooling entrance. Gently, he inserted a finger. Before you could jump upwards at the intrusion, he brought his tongue back to your clit to massage away any pain. “So sweet,” he hummed again. Bill kept his finger steady inside you until your squirming stopped. 

“You’re so tight,” Bill whispered. He added another finger to your already taut hole. “I can barely fit two fingers in here. How do you suppose you’ll take my cock, hm?” 

A rhetorical question. Instead of waiting for an answer, Bill began moving his fingers back and forth. You let out a small whine that you buried into the pillow. “Sh, it’s okay, just relax, darling,” Bill assured. In a matter of moments, Bill had gone from shallow little thrusts to burying his fingers to the hilt. The motion of his fingers curling inside you elicited a load moan from your lips, and your legs parted further in response. It was over when his stupid tongue found its way back to your clit; you nearly screamed. He flicked your sensitive bud over and over, building the pressure in the region. Between that, and Bill’s face buried between your legs and the wet sounds of his fingers inside you, you were just one thrust away from coming undone.

“Bill, Bill—” you tried to stop him, too scared to be thrown over the edge. But Bill showed no sign of stopping. When he sucked on your clit, you knew it was over. He had pushed you off the cliff. “Bill!” 

You clamped down on his hand, but Bill hadn’t stopped moving; he was intending to fuck you through it. Waves of pleasure, sweetly punctuated by Bill’s nimble fingers, washed over you until you had no coherent thought left. You laid there for a minute, until your heart rate had finally settled back to normal. 

“I’m getting impatient,” Bill chuckled. “Seeing you writhe around like that, coming on all over my hand, Merlin..”

You tightened your lips. “Me too.”

“What was that?” he teased, pretending not to hear. 

“I’m getting impatient.”

“For what?”

“You know what for.”

He shot you a cocky grin. “I won’t know until you tell me.”

“Fuck me, Bill,” you almost screamed. “Fuck me, please.” It was killing you. You looked down at Bill’s manhood. He looked even harder and fuller than how you found him, if that were even possible. His cock twitched to stand at full attention when you shuffled back to him. You wanted to feel him, so warm and engorged, inside you, splitting you open with how big he was. 

“You’re so needy, (Y/N),” Bill teased. He laid down. “Get on top of me, I want to see you.” 

You clambered over immediately. You splayed a leg on each side of him and propped yourself up with your knees. Wordlessly, Bill pulled you in and your body listened. He met your lips for another kiss that showed no signs of being broken. Well, not until he decided to latch onto one of your nipples instead. His lips covered the circumference of your areola and sucked gently. 

“Bill,” you whimpered, succumbing once again to his dexterous tongue. He swirled around your sensitive bud, flicking it back and forth, and sending little electric shocks down to your toes. You were getting so, so wet for him.

One of Bill’s hands trailed down to his cock and gave it a couple of strokes before he aimed it towards your core. You moaned every time he pressed against your throbbing clit before moving back to your opening and repeating the motion. You needed to come again, and Bill was intent on bringing you there. He rubbed the head back and forth, concentrating the slick to where he eventually wanted to be. He was showing great restraint; it was taking everything not to just thrust into you. 

“You already feel so good,” he praised. “So wet, so tight, love, all for me. I can’t wait to fuck this tight pussy.”

Bill piled on the words and continued to ravish your breasts as a distraction of what was to come. The head of his cock was directly aligned with your opening that was weeping at the thought of him inside you. But the largest thing you’d taken ever were Bill’s fingers; he couldn’t possibly fit without absolutely destroying you. The universe couldn’t have gifted you with a warm-up, could it? Instead, it gifted you the girth of Bill. Still, you remained in place, readying yourself as he began to enter you. 

You gasped at the first intrusion. You clenched Bill’s forearms in retaliation, your mouth parting in shock. You wanted him badly, but your anatomy wasn’t letting your desires take the front seat. 

Bill placed a hand on your back. Stiff. “You’re tense,” he noted, kissing up on your neck. “Just relax. It’ll feel good, I promise.” You nodded, trusting him. 

“Hngh—!” was all you let out when he pushed deeper. Your breathing fell out of sync as you tried to calm yourself. Maybe this was it, and all of him was already inside of it. 

“That’s just my head inside you, love,” Bill stated, as if reading your mind.  

You paled. “How are you so big?”

Bill chuckled in agreement before swallowing you in a kiss. His tongue found its way into your mouth, and you could taste the pure need radiating off him. He gave little shallow thrusts, trying to ease himself into you. Though it still burned heavily, a ring of pain, as he stretched you out, Bill’s pace was making it much more tolerable and frankly, more erotic. 

When he was halfway in, Bill’s eyes fell shut in utter bliss. His hands gripped your ass cheeks, pulling them apart, as if it would help you sink further down on him. 

“You take me so well,” he said as he continued impaling your poor little pussy. He never stopped littering you with kisses, whether it was on your lips, cheeks, neck, or breasts. He suckled your tits again when he rammed the thickest part of him inside you in one thrust. 

You stifled a cry into the crook of his neck and tightened your arms around him. “Bill!”

“Give it a minute, (Y/N),” he assured, but his voice sounded garbled, so far away. “I promise, it’s going to feel so good.”

When he felt you relax a little, Bill began to increase the length of his thrusts, breaking into your pussy a little more each time. You fell onto him, the pleasure beginning to overwrite the pain. 

Bill moaned as he sped up the slightest. “You’re so tight, (Y/N), tighter than I could’ve ever imagined.” His words only added fuel to the fire. “I can’t believe it’s me that gets to break into your pussy.”

“Then break me, Bill,” you pleaded. “Please. Harder.”

He chuckled. “You don’t have to ask twice.”

Bill looped his arms around you to hold you in place. From there, he began to drive himself into you faster, harder, just like a hole to be used for his pleasure, just like you had asked.

“Oh!” 

You could hardly keep your eyes open as he assaulted your body. He tested different depths and angles, watching your facial expressions for the perfect one. His long, deep strokes were landing on the perfect place - a place that had you seeing stars. So pleasurable but just millimetres away from being too much, too painful. There was so much of him inside you. Your legs stiffened, almost cramping, as the heat increased in pitches in your core. Your hands went wild, trying to find a place to stabilise your body. They found refuge on the top of the headboard. In one particularly hard thrust, he sheathed himself completely inside you, the widest part of him spearing you open. 

That was the precise moment you came undone, screaming. White obfuscated your vision as you lost control of your body. You convulsed on him, your pussy contracting around his cock like a vice. Bill continued to fuck you through your orgasm, bottoming out in you repeatedly,  letting you ride out the pleasure for as long as humanely possible. You fell onto him like a rag doll, limp, worn out from your second orgasm. Bill could only smile at a job well done. He withdrew himself from you and flipped you over. He nestled his manhood back between your legs. You watched with excitement as his cock, covered in your cream, sprang to his navel. You felt so hollow without him inside you, and you were about to beg for him again, but he moved quickly. He leaned towards you, placing the head of his cock to your opening once again. But instead of delving into you like you had hoped, he rubbed himself against you, occasionally pushing into you the slightest.  

Confused, you raised your hips up, trying to align yourself perfectly with his cock and push him back in. But your attempts were futile. 

“Don’t do that,” you chastised when you realised he was doing this on purpose. 

“Do what?” Bill asked innocently. 

“Tease me like this.”

He smirked. “Who said I was teasing you?” 

Just as you were about to retort, Bill drove himself into you when you were least expecting it, burying himself entirely into you. Your body shivered in pleasure, legs straightening and stiffening. You screamed when he quickened his pace, pounding into you with deep, full thrusts. His hands gripped your bouncing breasts, keeping them in place and occasionally pinching your nipples. Bill pushed himself to the hilt, then almost withdrew completely, before filling you up again as hard as he could. At certain points, he would hit a bundle of nerves that caused your toes to curl. At some point, you couldn’t tell the difference between pain and pleasure—it all felt so overwhelmingly good. 

The lewd sound of his balls hitting your skin was heaven to your ears. In this moment, you wanted nothing more than to be filled with his seed. 

“Come inside me,” you near screamed. 

Your little request was enough to break Bill out of his trance. “What?”

“Come inside me,” you repeated. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” 

With no reason to ask you to clarify again, Bill obliged. He gave a couple more thrusts, so powerful it forced your body to slide up over the bedsheets and your head to almost slam into the headboard. Then, he let out a loud, choked grunt, his eyes screwing shut. You could feel his cock twitch heavily inside you as he deposited his seed, filling your pussy. He hovered over you, exhausted, draining every last bit of him inside you. Both of you shared the same laboured respiration. You reached up and pushed back the ginger hair that was strewn across his forehead.

Bill began to soften inside you, but refused to pull out just yet. If you stayed here like this any longer, there was no doubt you’d meld together into one.

With a heavy almost regretful breath, Bill reluctantly removed himself out of you. You felt his cum trickling rapidly out of you and onto the bed sheets. You sat up to look. There was so much. it was smeared all over your sex, all over your inner thighs, and all over the sheets. There was no doubt there was more deep inside you. 

You looked up at Bill. Much to your disappointment, he looked to be back to his usual, happy self. Your services were no longer required. And much to your disappointment, he was looking around for his briefs. Well, it wasn’t like you could stay in paradise forever. 

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he said. 

“Of course,” you responded.

Bill gave you a small peck on the lips which made you smile. Then, it all went downhill from there, as he returned not more than a second later for another kiss. This time, deeper, thick with more lust. The next kiss, he had you pinned you on the bed by the arms. Unexpectedly, you felt him harden against you once more. His cock was back its previous stiffness and trying to find its way back to your cunt. 

He paused. “I’m not sure what’s gotten into me,” Bill admitted sheepishly.

“You mean you’re not usually like this?” you questioned with a smile. You didn’t mind it, not one bit. 

He contemplated it. “It has been a while, but it’s highly unlikely for me to go twice, let alone three times a day.”

“Really?” You cocked your head. “Is that not—”

Before you could speak, Bill plunged himself into you once more. Your mouth went slack. It was quite an effective way to shut you up. Most of his spend was still either deep inside you or running down your inner thighs, but he was intent on pumping you full of him even more. 

You had no complaints. Instead, you succumbed to the wet sloshes of his thrusts and messy kisses once again.

…..

In a tent one long Portkey away from the Burrow, a very different conversation was taking place.

“How do you reckon our Paradise Potions did?” 

“Considering that Bill hasn’t joined us, I’d say pretty well.”

END!

[cherry-pop-elf]

Weasley Siblings Reacting To You Saying You Are Pregnant

Writing Comission’s Are Open

William ‘Bill’

“Excuse me-?” He was left practically speechless, when he picked up the onesie on his bedside table. A little blue thing, with the words To The Moon And Back. He was so full of emotions. Panic, excitement, horror, joy. Would the baby inherit his wolf tendencies? Would something go wrong, because of his bad blood? He was so scared. Would you be in danger, because of him? With his eyes turning to you, and seeing that excited smile, he couldn’t help but calm down. Teddy existed after all, didn’t he? He was as fine as he could be. The idea of holding his own little ball of joy. To see that orange hair, and watch you nurse. “I’m going to be a dad….” He trailed, with a smile. “I’m going to be a dad-“ He repeated, as he would hold the little sleep wear to his chest. Tears ran down his broken cheeks, as he kept reacting it. So full of pride. He’s going to be a dad, with you.

Charlie

“IM GONNA BE A DAD-!” He was screaming, bloody damn murder, as he was running around at the sanctuary. Screaming it with pride, as you chased after him. Just laughing, as the dragons would lift up their heads. “IM A DAD IM A DAD IM A DAD-!” He keeps roaring, as the dragons would tilt their heads. Watching their motherly figure jump for joy. Literally. “Charlie-!” You laughed, as he was just to full of excitement. Laughing, cheering, and crying. That’s when one of the older mothers would grab him by the collar. Yanking him into the air, before plopping him right next to you. As if to convey that he better step up now. That had you laugh, as he pouted at her. “I am I am-!” He said, before he was on his knees. Holding your belly. “I’m gonna be your daddy-!” He squealed, as he kissed it over. All the excitement getting the new borns curious, but those mothers made sure they didn’t get to close. Letting him have his moment. A new baby, to join the herd.

Percy

“You cannot be serious-“ Percy was blinking, as he had hardly taken two steps through the fire place. Just gotten off work, early for once, only to be surprised by you making a baby box. It was meant to be a surprise, and something you would give to him after dinner. Seems like he was still surprised, regardless. “Who had the baby this time-?” He asked, as he would set his belongings where they were designated. That had you snort, as it didn’t quite dawn on him yet. With the fact you didn’t say anything, he turned around. “Honey?” He asked again, as you keep smiling. Slowly, the gears turned, before he was left with his cloak dropped from his hands. It was him. He didn’t expect that. Was like the last one to join the family gang. He couldn’t help his worry. He didn’t exactly grow up to well. He wasn’t to well connected with his family, and only came around when it was almost to late. He didn’t want that to happen to his kid. To have such a divide. You could tell he was worried, and patted the seat next to you. He joined, and you would kiss his head. “Who do you wanna tell first?” You asked, as he held your hand. The name he said, reassured himself that this kid won’t have that tension. Not like what he made. “George is perfect.” Another kiss to his head, as the plans were made. A big and happy family.

Fred

The words barley left your lips, before you were tossed over his shoulder. As quickly as you were tossed, you were soon hearing the noise of the busy shop. "HEY EVERYONE!" He shouted, causing everyone to look up at one of the railings. George as well, with curious eyes all the same. "IM GONNA BE A DAD, AND GEORGE IS GONNA BE A UNCLE!" He cheered, and everyone was a roar of cheers as well. George was quick to drop what he was doing, and soon aparate next to him. "Put your damn mother to be down!" He laughed, as Fred finally set you down. All three of you in a warm, and tight, hug. "i'm gonna be a uncle!" George cheered, as you laughed. You had to wonder who was more excited for the baby. Your husband, or his twin? It did not matter to you. They were both so happy for this wonderful news. They just could not let you go, as they were just laughing in joy. Children. More children. What could make them hate that?

George

"Pregnant?" He whispered, as he almost looked like he would burst into tears. "I heard that right, didn't I?" He asked, as he felt over the scarred skin that was once his ear. You nodded, before you held up your hands. You could not grasp sign as fast as George did, but you knew the alphabet. P.R.E.G.N.A.N.T. Pregnant. He was soon tackling you, as he was sobbing into your shoulder. "I'm going to be a dad-" He sobbed, as you rubbed his back. Some joy, in his world of darkness. You had fallen pregnant, not long after the death of Voldemort. Made senes, since the stress was gone. For you, anyway. "Jellybean....If its a boy...." You would peck his cheek, and nod. "A boy, Fred. If a girl, Fredrick works as a beautiful middle name." You comforted, getting another hiccup in return. The world was moving on, but the world will not be forgotten. Fred lived on, and hes going to be your tiny terror. How excited you two were, for it.

Ron

“No-“ He gasped. “Really-? No-! Are you-? No-“ Was like he was trapped in a loop, as he now paced around your living room. Looking at you, before looking at his feet, then repeating. As if every time he made a full pace, he turned. You had to admit, was pretty adorable. Figured news like this would make your Auror husband short circuit a bit. You let him pace, with a smile. Just grinning, as he was trying to register it all. Suppose work fatigue makes anyone’s brain mush. Especially a job like his. You would watch him pace, until his brain was finally registering that YEP you are indeed pregnant. “Bloody hell….IM GONNA BE A DAD-!” His face was beaming, before he was stealing you into his arms. He was exhausted, but not tired enough to not huggle and cuddle. “We need to tells ‘Mione and Harry-! Oh those two will be so excited-!” He beams. Uncle Harry and Auntie Hermione. He was going to crush you, you swore, if he kept being so happy. “Blimey, guess that over time is finally coming in handy.” You hated his over time, but he had a point. Now you two had a secure start. That had you relax a little more. “Hope Harry doesn’t mine if I slow down on my career a little.” You would stroke his hair, and pecked his cheek. “He’s Harry. I’m doubtful he will be made you want to not be dead on a side walk, and leave me a single parent.” You snorted. “Yeah, probably doesn’t want history repeating.” Morbid, but point proven. “Gonna be a dad-“ He kept smiling, as he pulled you into his lap. Unable to stop holding you close. He was so happy, and you were all the same. Your family.

Ginny

“SHUT UP-!” She gasped, as she was looking towards the Quidditch stands. No way was she seeing what she was seeing. Your wife just won the first game of the season, and she was looking straight at you. In the VIP seats, and holding up a sign. I’m Pregnant. In bold and colorful letters, so she couldn’t miss it. “NO WAY-!” Ginny kept screaming, as her team mates looked over, as they were shaking hands with the enemy team. “What’s up?!” One of them asked. “IM GONNA BE A MUM-!” Ginny cheered, as that had all the broomstick flyers stare towards where her eyes looked. “CONGRATS-!” The enemy seeker said, with a clap. Good sportsmanship. “IM GONNA BE A MUM-!” What a way to start her quidditch season. The first win, and the fact she’s going to be a mom. “Well, go and fly over-!” A team mate smacked her back, and she wasn’t needed to told twice. The fans went nuts, with famous Quidditch Star Ginny Weasley was flying towards the stands. Right to you, and nearly tackling you down in the box. The fellow VIP seaters clapped for you two, as she planted a big kiss on you. Tears in the corner of her eyes, as she hugged you tightly. “You knew I would win, didn’t you?” She asked. “No, but I mean what better way to recover from a loss?” That had her smack your shoulder, but she was soon was wiping her eyes on her gloves. “Oh fuck, look at me. Crying like a girl-“ She joked, as she sniffled. She was so happy, and you were as well. She just couldn’t contain her joy. Her, you, and your own little precious snitch. What more could a girl want?

[wisssp]

Imagine you're at the burrow, helping Bill organize his books on dragons when Fred and George come up behind you and watch you for a moment.

"Ah. Moving on to the older brother, we see." Fred smirks down at you.

"Two wasn't enough, so you're going for a third." George crosses his arms and matches his brothers smirk. You look between the two and then over to Bill, who's smiling and shaking his head.

"Cut it out, boys." Bill chuckles at the twins. "She couldn't handle all three of us anyways." His smirk now mirrors his brothers'. Your mouth slightly falls open in shock. You look between the three of them as they're riding the ego high they've given themselves. The smiles drop from their faces as you stand up and make your way towards the stairs. You pause at the bottom, giving them an expectant look before you so sweetly ask:

"So are we just gonna fuck around or are we gonna find out?"

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine being Bill Weasley's wife, and giving him the silent treatment.

Bill was watching you, admiring you more like, as you put together breakfast. It was a funny sort of morning, with you ignoring him completely and yet, you were still making him a plate, not letting him go hungry just because you were annoyed with him. He knew he had been doing little things to bother you throughout the night, keeping you up with his constant affection, distracting you while you were trying to read a book. You were just too cute though, he couldn’t help himself - he felt like a puppy with a new owner, and was just trying to get their attention. His chest pressed against your back when he couldn’t take it anymore, his lips brushing against your shoulder. “Why are you so beautiful in the mornings, it’s not fair,” He mumbled to you, trying to see if he could break through your grumpy facade, but not to no avail. You just moved past him to put slices of bread in the muggle toaster. “Come on, Mrs Weasley,” He teased lightly. “Give me something.” What you did was give him an annoyed roll of your eyes. Mrs Weasley. Yes, technically, that was you, but after calling Molly that for so long, it felt like you didn’t deserve the moniker. It was one thing to hear it at work in a professional environment, but your own husband? Bill sighed again and decided to help, getting the orange juice and the jam that he knew that you liked out of the fridge when a sneaky little idea came to him. With all of his strength, he tightened the lid of the jam jar while you weren’t looking, in the hopes that you couldn’t open it and would have to ask him for help. Eggs were sizzling in the frying pan. You poured out two glasses of juice, sipping on one, and putting the other into your husband’s hand without a word. The toast popped from the toaster, and you set it on the plates, and set about opening the jam jar. Bill brought the glass of orange juice to his lips to avoid letting you catch the smile that was on his face as you struggled, your eyebrows furrowing. You looked up to your husband with an open mouth, but oh, you caught that expression. “You spend too much time with your brothers,” You told him, your first words of the day, and tapped the jar lid with your wand, which uncapped it easily. Bill still chuckled onto himself, feeling the victory of getting even those words.

Requested by: Anonymous

[gudfornuthin]

(Has this been done before?)

I really am trying I promise

[charmed-quill]

Summary: Y/N, an American half-blood witch newly arrived in Muggle London, stumbles into the warmth of the Weasley brothers after a serendipitous meeting in Diagon Alley. Drawn into their world, she finds herself at the Burrow more often than not. Meanwhile, Bill Weasley is learning to navigate life as a single father, relying on his mother’s help to care for Victoire. Though their worlds orbit each other, Y/N and Bill’s paths never seem to align—until one evening when fate finally draws them together. Will it be the start of a love story, or will they be left with nothing but heartache?

Total Word Count: 42.2k

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter Five

Chapter six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter tweleve

Epilogue

Bonus Chapter

[georgeplease]

Anyone else really like pairing part of the Weasley family with a foreign muggle reader? I love the idea of Arthur getting to know more muggle things from all over the world than just England. Becoming his favorite of the in laws because you indulge him.

Taking him to a sports games or a trip to your home country for fun? Come on! Everyone else rolls their eyes at his questions, but you happily share your culture and love the chance to teach him.

[just-some-random-blogger]

If I'm Going Too Fast

3 times Bill Weasley offered to help you with your wallpaper and the 1 time he didn't.

Bill Weasley x Reader | 3k+ | cw: fem!reader, fluff, angst, jealousy, irrationality, typos, etc.

A/N: the dividers + title are from the song reptilia by the stokes. also im using the Sweets & Sweeties cafe I thought up for my george (& fred) fics but its not necessarily the same universe.

@agreeeeeeeeeee tagging you because you said you wanted to see a 'i hate everyone but you' fic sksksks.

♦♦♦ Now every time that I look at myself ♦♦♦

"Hi!"

Bill lifts his eyes up from the papers he was reading and does a double take before coming to a stand. He wipes his lips, "hi! Hi... Sorry-"

You walk inside, surveying his office. You immediately spot the open window and the curtains billowing with the cold breeze. You sigh.

Bill notices the paper bag you held and scrambles to tidy his desk. Just as he's about to walk over to you, you walk over to the window.

"It's cold, Bill," you mutter, reaching for the window.

In a few wide strides, he manages to take your wrist. You turn; he takes the bag from your hand and closes the window himself, "I know."

His red hair blows into his face, the last thing the wind does before it is forbidden entry by the glass pane. Bill turns back to you, then inspects the paper bag, though he already knew it was something you got him for lunch.

"Cake," you mutter, stepping forward, to brush his locks to the side.

He lifts his gaze and nods, "thank you, darling."

You raise and knit your brows simultaneously. His cerulean eyes were pinkish from exhaustion. The freckles littered across his cheeks were weighed down by the same pressure weighing his gaze. Still, his dry lips curve into a smile for you. You press your hand to his cheek, "is something wrong?"

His reaction is immediate. He sighs and leans into your touch. He moves the bag away and snakes an arm around your waist, "none more than yesterday," he leans his forehead on your temple, "business as usual."

You would have enjoyed the kiss he pressed on your cheek more if his words actually brought you comfort instead of concern. Business as usual to him was working himself to the bone. Your hand comes to his chest, rubbing up his collar to straighten it, "William."

His shoulders tense. He slowly pulls away.

You share a look and a sigh falls from his lips. He rubs your back, "I'm-"

"Bill, there's another-"

Both your gazes shoot to the door. The man who opened it immediately goes silent at the sight of the two of you.

Bill clenches his jaw, "did you not see her walk into my office?"

"Bill," you turn to him, "he didn't."

"I didn't," the man mutters softly, raising papers, "I was intructed to-"

"I don't care," Bill points, "get out."

The man lowers his gaze and leaves without a single word.

"Bill," you repeat.

He releases his hold on you, unwanting to hear a lecture. He walks back to his desk and waves a hand, "they know better than to disturb me when you're here."

"But you shouldn't have-"

"He should have knocked," he places the bag on his desk, pulling the boxed cake out of the bag. He stares at it for a moment, realizing that it was only one slice. He turns to you with knit brows.

You sigh, "I'm not staying for lunch."

His lips part, "but-"

"I have to go pick up some wallpaper for the store."

"Oh?" he puts the cake down, "what's happened to the walls?"

You shake your head, "nothing. Just want to put new wallpaper."

He nods and walks over, taking your hand, "I can try to leave work early today to help you pick some out."

You let him pull you in again. You smile and prop your hand on his shoulders, momentarily kneading out the strain on his firm muscles, "you know if you have to try, that means you can't, right?"

A line instantly forms between his brows, "I-"

You smother his answer with your lips and wet the dryness of his mouth with your affection. Bill melts, immediately succumbing to your warmth. His arms loop around you, pulling you closer to him, as if eager to fuse your bodies together. Your own arms slink their way around his neck, bringing him closer to your height.

You pull away to catch a breath. He chases after you with a whimper, silently pleading to meld his tongue with yours. You rub your noses together, "don't work too hard, Mr. Weasley."

He furrows his brows as his nostrils flare. He brushes his knuckles against your cheeks, "I promise to try lea-"

"Bill," another man interrupts, "about the— bloody hell-"

Bill snaps over his shoulder, "get the f-"

"Sorry! I'll go-"

"No, wait!" you raise a hand, "I was just leaving." You pull away and kiss his cheek.

"You are?"

You smile sweetly at him before jogging to the door. You smile at the man, who clearly had something important to tell him. You mutter, "good luck."

He clenches his jaw as he turns to Bill.

♦♦♦ "I thought I told you, this world is not for you" ♦♦♦

"There you are."

You turn, finding Bill jogging up to you.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, love," he sighs the moment he is beside you, "why'd you run off?"

You raise a brow at him, feeling a chill run down your spine when his hot hand comes to your bare back, "wearing this dress was a mistake."

Bill pulls his head back, examining your form fitting, drop-back dress, "what? Why would you say that?" he glides his nails up and down your spine, "you look stunning."

Goosebumps form on your arms, "look at what everyone else is wearing."

He doesn't. He tilts his head instead, "what does it matter what everyone else is wearing?"

"Because!" you quip under a whisper, taking a step closer, "this is a work gathering."

"It's a soiree," he squeezes your arms, brows knitting at the feel of your pricked skin. He rubs both of your biceps.

"Yeah," you huff, "with all your co-workers and bosses present."

"You look incredible, baby. Better than anyone here—"

"Bill-"

"I promise you, you wore the perfect dress for the occasion."

"That is not what they're saying."

His smile crumples into a weighted frown, "what?"

You lean your head into your hand.

"Who says?"

"It doesn't matt-"

"No, it does matter," he tilts his head, "did someone give you a hard time over your dress?"

You huff, taking his arm, "it wasn't like that. I just... I overheard a someone mutter something about 'Mr. Weasley's flaunty plus one'."

His jaw slacks.

"I didn't think my back would cause such a scene."

"It shouldn't," he snaps, looking around the room with narrows eyes, "how dare they speak of you like this when I only agreed to attend at your encouragement."

"Hey," you pout at him, "this is a big night for Gringotts."

He turns back to you, "so?"

You tilt your head and take his cheek, "Bill..." you smooth the crease between his brows, "you're one of the reasons why they're celebrating."

"It feels rather opposite right now," he turns to you, "I'd much rather help you pick out wallpaper for your shop."

You chuckle, tucking hair behind his ear, "your brothers already helped me pick out wallpaper, sweetheart."

His lips part, "... they did?"

You nod, "it's bright and floral," you rub his chin, "you'd hate it."

He purses his lips, leaning into you with a disagreeing headshake, "I could never hate something you like."

You chuckle, causing his lips to curl upward. Your eyes widen when he pulls you in for a kiss, feeling his tongue dart out to your lips. You and immediately pull away, "William Arthur Weasley."

"What?" he secures a hand on your hip.

"As if it's not bad enough—"

"Darling, they're already talking," he cuts you off, "might as well give them someone interesting to talk about."

♦♦♦ The room is on fire as she's fixing her hair ♦♦♦

Bill stops in his tracks upon seeing you in the lobby. The suitcase in his hand felt so suddenly like it weighed a tonne. The wand in his coat jacket silently screamed to be drawn and that a hex from its master's lips be drawn with it.

You laugh. It makes his eye twitch.

He calls out your name; it echoes in the large expanse of the room and time stops for a moment.

You turn and only then is your attention averted from the two men who also looked out to see who was calling for you.

"Ah, Weasley," one says, raising a hand to him.

Bill's jaw sets as he strides over.

The other man beside you whispers in your ear. Bill's body tenses at how you cover your mouth as you laugh, only to use the same hand to slap the man's arm.

Bill calls out to you again. You smile, "hello, darling. Ready to go?"

"Oh, no, don't take her away," one slaps a hand on Bill's shoulder, "we've only just started.

"Donovan," the other slap's the hand off Bill, "watch your hand. Lest you get the curse-breaker to curse you."

"Oh," Donovan pulls his hand away, "right, Bartholomew."

You look between the two men and chortle, covering your mouth with your fingers. Donovan, Bartholomew, and Bill look at you. The latter is deeply unimpressed by how you smiled at the two.

"What's got your knickers in a twist now, smarty pants?" Donovan asks.

Bill tenses at the mention of your knickers.

You punch Donovan's shoulder, "it's just so silly that you go by your first names!"

Donovan rubs his arms, feigning injury. Bartholomew tilts his head, "that we go by our first names?" He chuckles, "what should we ought to go by?"

You scoff and stare at them like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "Don and Bart."

Don and Bart? Bill's jaw clenches. Who were these ninnyhammers?

They groan at your words where you snigger, reaching out for Bill. When you take his arm and finally come to his side, his irritation is partially tempered, but Don and Bart are still at it.

Bart mutters, "horrendous."

"Agreed," Don shakes his head, "we're not 14 anymore."

"Says the not-14-year-old who still the expression knickers in a twist—" you point, "when I was laughing too!"

Don raises his hands in surrender, "you know what I meant. You're easy to get a reaction out of."

"Yeah," Bart says, "were-"

"How do you know each other?" Bill snaps, patience worn to inexistence.

You recognize his tone and squeeze his arm.

Bill does not turn to you, eyes too busy skimming the two.

You respond gently, "we were batchmates in Hogwarts, love."

"Ah," Bill says through a glare, "you work for the bank now?"

"Yeah," they say in unison, "we-"

Bill doesn't wait; he turns around and starts walking off, bringing you along with him. You whimper, looking over your shoulder as you try to keep up with his long strides, "Bi-"

"How long have they been talking you up?!" he mutters, eyes fixed upon the exit.

"Talking me up?" you mutter as you jog beside him, squeezing his arm as you did, "they weren't-" you gesture with two fingers, "talking me u—"

Bill's dry laughter cuts you off.

You huff, trying to slow him down by pulling him back. He's too strong to stop.

You both reach the door, and the moment you're outside, you yank your arm away from him and pull back, "that wasn't what w-"

"I recognize them," he snaps, hand tightening on the handle of his suitcase, "they were eyeing you in the soiree."

You huff and wrap your arms around yourself when a cold breeze whips between the two of you. Your hair is blown into your face, but you make no move to comb it back, "yeah... they said they saw me at the soiree but couldn't believe that it was me, which was why they didn't appro-"

"They didn't approach because-" he slaps a hand to his chest, "- I was with you."

Your face tenses. You rub your arms.

You watch him pace for a moment. You draw in a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for how he'll react to what you'll say next, "Don and Bart are my friends. I happen to be glad that they came up and talked to me."

Bill's freezes, his jaw feathering at your admission.

"We were just chatting, Bill," you mutter, finally tucking your hair behind your ear, "I promise you, it was nothing more."

"To you," he motions, "I bet they feel so high and mighty now that they're bankers."

You step forward, "I don't think that. I used to help them with their homework, for Godric's sake. They'll never b-"

"Why didn't you just go to my office?" a line forms between his brows as he shakes his head, "you know you're more than welcome to do so."

You lower your head and shrug, "I don't want you to become mean to-"

"I told you, they know better to—"

"Would you stop cutting me off?" you blurt, face tightening as you look back at him, "had I waited in your office, I would have just stared into space, but a while ago, at least, I got to talk with someone I hadn't in a while."

Bill's shoulder's slump. His face hardens, "what did you even talk about?"

You stare at him for a moment. Irritation rises up your neck, pulling a scoff from your lips, "work. Life."

"Wallpaper?"

You pull your head back, "what?"

"Did you tell them about the wallpaper I was going to help you put up over the weekend?"

You watch his face go red from the cold and his anger. You shake your head in disbelief, "do... do you think I made it look like we aren't together?"

"Well, you might have forgotten that-"

"Everyone in Gringott's knows we're together Bill," you feel your throat tighten, "everyone except you I think."

You both stare at each other for a moment. Bill feels a shiver run down his spine as you brush your hair back, revealing how your eyes sparkled with tears. He huffs and mutters your name.

"Go home by yourself tomorrow," you dismiss, walking off with not a care if he followed or not.

♦♦♦ "You sound so angry, just calm down, you found me" ♦♦♦

The bell at the front door jingles.

"Welcome to Weasley's Wizard Wh-" Fred emerges, "Bill!

Bill looks around, tightening his hold on the flowers he had.

"Aww," Fred places a hand on his chest, "you didn't have to."

Bill pulls the flowers away before his brother can get it. He raises his brows, "they're obviously not for you."

"I beg to differ," he smirks and crosses his arms, "if they weren't, you'd be next door at Sweets & Sweeties havin' a cuppa with your sweetie."

He merely stares at Fred.

"And George," the younger Weasley motions with his head.

"George?" Bill frowns.

Fred nods, "George."

"What's he doing there?" the elder Weasley turns to the wall, as if he could see through it.

"I hate to break it to you, brother, but brother's gone off to steal your girl," Fred walks off, leaving Bill to follow. He knew better than to believe George would ever do such a thing, but it still got him high-strung, just as Fred intended. The latter continues, "he's helping your sweetheart with the wallpaper you were supposed to be helping with while you're too busy being jealous."

"Why'd you think I brought flowers?" Bill snaps.

Fred turns, "for me!" and tries to snatch the flowers.

Bill dodges and pushes him back with a glare.

The younger recoils then clears his throat, "right. So..." he shrugs looking back at Bill, "why are you here then?"

"Because she's not there, Fred!"

"I just told you she's there!"

"WHY WOULD I BE HERE IF I SAW HER-"

"YOU OBVIOUSLY NEED GLASSES, OLD MAN!"

For a moment, the Weasley brothers stare at each other. He gives Fred a searing gaze, but his resolve remains. He knows then he's not lying.

"Unbelievable!" Bill huffs, storming out.

Fred presses his lips together then waves, "come back soon!"

The bell rings again as Bill leaves. He walks over to the shop next door, finding the store to be, indeed, empty. He debates going back in, but he didn't want to be blindsided if in case the twins were in fact playing a trick on him.

He quickly realizes there were no tricks upon hearing the sound of laughter coming from the end of the street.

You and George each had a paper bag clutched to your chest as you walked with your arms linked. He thinks of Fred's words: George was going to steal you. He clenches his jaw, feeling irrational at what was clearly an offhanded teasing remark from his idiot brother.

And yet... there it was, the same impatience he felt just yesterday with Don and Bart. He turns to his feet, crushing the stems of his flowers with how frequently he squeezed them.

"Bill!" he hears his brother call.

He looks up, finding George grinning at him. You merely stared.

"We were just talking about you- aw!" George winces, turning to you, "what? It's true."

Bill stays put as you both walk over. You avoid his gaze, even going as far as hiding behind George. His brother is quick to shimmy out of the way though, "interested in the back of my jumper much?"

You don't have a moment to respond as George takes the paper bag from you, lurching forward in faux struggle, "wow," he exaggeratedly grunts, "this is heavy! I'll go put them inside."

Neither of you speak as George walks into your shop. The bell rings as the door opens and closes. You lick your lips and turn to your feet.

"For you," he offers the flowers.

You slowly look up. You can see he looks like he didn't sleep very well and yet you can't help the words itching inside your mouth, "aren't you worried George is talking me up?"

Bill's nostrils flare.

You clench your teeth.

"I don't like it when we fight," he mutters.

"I'm not fighting," you shrug, "I'm telling you what you told me."

He lowers the flowers. A line forms between his brows, "what do you want me to say?"

Your lips part and your heart drops. Your brows furrow, "wh-" you shake your head, "what did you come here to say?"

"I came here to make peace."

"Oh, but you're not going to apologize?"

He scratches his nose, that was the thing, "I can't help the way I feel."

"What? You shake your head, "what about how I feel?" you quip, "how you made me feel?"

Bill lowers his gaze.

"No, you can't help the way you feel, but you can help the way you react. It's not my fault you think Don and Bart like me."

"I know it isn't but I-" he cuts himself off with a laugh. He brushes his hair back, frustrated by what was happening. He speaks slowly, as if it would help you understand, "I can't help the way I feel."

You look at him in silence.

Bill looks everywhere else but at you.

You cross your arms, feeling your eyes water, "fine," you huff through your nostrils, "I'm sorry talking to my old friends made you feel a way you can't help."

He drops his head then finally turns to you. His stomach drops to see your eyes were now pink and glassy. He speaks your name and steps forward. You pull away when he tries to touch you.

"I-" he whispers, "please don't cry."

You furrow your brows, "that's all you have to say to me?"

"APOLOGIZE YOU IDIOT!" two separate voices call in unison behind two different windows.

You both flinch, then Bill glares at his brothers, pointing the bouquet of flowers at them, "shut it. This is none of your business!"

"Only it is though!" Fred blurts from the inside of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

Bill is about to respond, but then he notices you're about to walk away. He grabs your shoulders, "No— I'm sorry."

You look at him, tears now streaming your cheeks.

"Merlin, I-"

It was too late now. It took him too long to say it. He releases you and you immediately retreat into your shop.

George calls out to you as you go to the back of your store. He then turns to his brother and motions with his head, "what are you waiting for?!"

Guilt bites at Bill, and it's why he figures he shouldn't push you anymore than he already has, "I shouldn't."

"Shouldn't?!" George runs out your shop, "you should be the one helping her with her wallpaper, you absolute buff-"

Bill cuts him off by shoving the flowers into his chest.

He bristles as he watches his older brother walk away, "coward!"

Fred marches to his twin, joining in, "yellow-belly!"

"Ugly!"

"Red head!"

George slaps the flowers on Fred's chest, "we're red heads, idiot."

"No, I'm not," Fred takes the flowers, combing through his bangs, "I've always had an orange undertone in my mane."

George rolls his eyes.

"What? You're just jealous."

[mastermindmiko]

hi,

i’m currently in my bill weasley phase aha

i was wondering if i could have gut wrenching angst and maybe fluff i need something to just cause pain aha

it’s okay if not :)

Hey, I know this is very long overdue but it's finally here! You asked for angst, and angst you shall receive. I hope I did it justice. More (Bill Weasley Fanfiction)

content warnings: none I believe, but lmk, kissing maybe? not edited Pairing: Bill Weasley + fem!reader word count: 9201 (sorta got carried away) Summary: You and Bill were always friends, until there was something more.

a/n: Trying my best to finish all the requests I've got and simply just posting more. Also, I tried this little thing were I did a sort of rhyming (don't want to call it poetry cause that's too big a compliment) to start off the ff, you can sort of see it like a summary maybe too.

It all starts out the same way, with a girl and a boy that meet when they were small then grow until they’re tall. They grasp each other's hands, holding their stance as their friendship solidifies until there’s a shift, a switch, a fully expected change that takes things from where they were to where they are now. 

There were only ever a few things that I cared about; My family, my friends, my future and my Bill. He never fit into neither the first nor the second categories as it was simply just different with him. Living only a few kilometres away from the Weasleys ensured that I spent most of my time with him, and as we both went to Hogwarts it only made me want to sew him to my side even more. 

“Hey, why do the Weasleys call you Honey?” 

“Ummm, it involves an incident where I ended up being a large tub of honey.” I explain as vaguely as I can, still trying to erase the embarrassing story out of my head. Tonks looks at me weirdly before waving her hand, “I don’t even want to know.”

I spent ten years of my life being Bill’s friend, best friend even, watching as his family got bigger and so did he. He developed his interests and I developed mine when all I thought of him was a friend, and none of that changed until-

“Do you think Bill’s hot?” 

Nymphadora- Tonks asked me one day. I look up from my lunch and ask her, “What?” 

“You know Bill- you’re friend, tall, ginger-” 

“I know who Bill is…” I trail off, and I think of what she just asked, now that we were fifteen (practically adults), everyone started falling for people left and right, while I just focused on Quidditch and OWLs. Bill was doing the same as me, we would study together, practise together, there just wasn’t enough time building a future and also doing normal typical teenager stuff. 

“You gotta admit, he’s gotten mighty fit over the summer.” Tonks said, and I looked at the girl who’s two years younger than me disapprovingly. Despite being in different years and houses, we shared the same lunch period. I scold, “Aren’t you a bit too young to be thinking of things like that?” 

“I just call it like I see it.” She replies, and then eyes me up and down with a grin on her face. I blush and push her shoulder. She laughs and I smile a bit myself. There’s a beat then she asks again, “You didn’t answer my question…do you think that Bill’s hot?” 

I look around trying to recall in my memory the most accurate picture of Bill I could conjure up. He’s definitely gotten taller. I remember how I used to be able to ruffle his hair without having to step on my tiptoes- and his hair’s gotten longer, much to Molly’s disapproval. He’s gotten a bit more tan from spending all that time out in the sun, making his freckles more apparent. 

All that time in the sun playing quidditch also changed his physique a bit. His shoulders are broader, his biceps and thighs thicker. Hands are larger and stronger. I recall the last game of the summer, only a few weeks ago, where every member of the Weasley family was playing, Ginny being the referee as she was still very small. I was the beater, as always. Bill was the chaser, and we were on opposite teams. Halfway through the game, two hours in, we were still playing and Bill decided to throw some water over his head, cooling him off. The water soaking his hair, arms and shirt, making it cling to his body-

“You totally think he is!” Tonks exclaims, and brings me out of my daydream. I feel my face flare up and I stutter as I defend myself, “It’s not that, it’s just yes, he’s fit but he’s my friend, so he’s just that, he’s just fit.” 

Tonks is still giving me that cheeky grin when I decide that that’s enough of that interaction, so I stand up, deciding to just stay in class for the next fifteen minutes till class starts. I say, “Well, I gotta go. Bye Tonks.” 

She shakes her head, and waves while I headout of the Great Hall. I pull out a piece of paper from my bag as I look at my schedule, I turn around to move the other way, when I see Potions scrawled up on the parchment. I shiver as I enter the dungeons and hope that Professor Snape doesn’t mind me waiting till class begins, I could prep the cauldron while I wait. 

I walk through the dark silent hallways, hearing the echoes of each step I take. A large hand encompasses my shoulder, and I turn around quickly lifting my wand from my waist band. I point my wand to the face of my attacker and I meet with the grinning face of Bill Weasley. I relax as Bill takes the wand out of my hand and places it inside my belt loop, a normal occurrence, if it weren’t for the fact that his face is close to mine and I notice just how sharp and angular it is. 

“Tonks told me you were heading to class, what are you doing going to potions this early? Snape barely tolerates Gryffindor’s when he has to.” Bill says, and push his hand off my shoulder, and he chuckles. I say, “Snape actually likes me, and don’t act like that when you're practically his favourite.” 

“It’s only cause I’m the best.” He grin, cockily, and he taps his head, pointing towards his brain. I push his shoulder playfully and reply, “Second best.” 

***

The Gryffindor common room fills with the sounds of both Muggle and wizard music. The smell of alcohol and sweat from the mixing bodies encases the area. A muggle born brought a machine that flickers light in different hues of different colours, having the lights bounce off the walls, as people dance in the centre of the room, and the chatter fills. 

I’m standing against some wall, holding a cup of butterbeer that was gathered from an illegal trip to Hogsmeade only a few hours ago after the win for the house. I never did drink much alcohol and especially not during Quidditch season. This was the first year I’ve been able to participate in the parties that Gryffindor house threw, and it was exciting, but much more boring than I expected. 

I’m watching the room, looking around, seeing a young Percy trying to make his way up to the boy’s dormitories as swiftly as he could while carrying two books that are twice the size of his head. Some drunk seventh years, push him, unintentionally, Percy glares at them nonetheless. I move towards him, pushing away the couples that might as well just get a room. I fling my arm around Percy’s shoulder, nod my head towards the stairs. I carry one of the books from him and we walk towards the dormitories. 

He rushes up the stairs as fast as he can as soon as he’s out of the sea of bodies. I call out his name, and despite the loud music, he turns to me, guiltily. I say, “We’ve told you a million times that you can’t stay out this loud, especially after curfew, even if it is to study.” 

“I know, I know…you won’t tell Bill?” Percy asks, lips pursed and ashamed. I sigh and give him the other book back and reply, “Not if you don’t do it again.” 

He grins from ear to ear, large glasses slipping off his nose. He laughs, “Thank you, Honey!” He wastes no second before running up the stairs once again, and I can just barely hear the sounds of the footsteps fade away before I walk away. 

I drink the last bit of the butterbeer in my cup. I go to the opposite side of the room, grimacing as people shove me around. I stand by the drinks table and start to look around for the butterbeer bowl, when I notice a mop of red hair, reaching for the firewhiskey. I shake my head and sneak up behind the unsuspecting Weasley. I reach forward and grab a handful of his hair, and pull him back. 

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Charlie chants, while I pull him by his hair. His hands lift up and try to loosen the grip that my fingers had on his hair. I threaten, “Put the cup down.” 

He frowns but (reluctantly) puts it down. I pull him by his hair once again and push him towards, once again the stairs of the dormitories. The place is quieter there, and I can scold him properly. We reach near the top of the first year boy’s dormitories, and I leave his hair. He rubs his head, and looks at me with a frown.

“What in Merlin’s name did you think you were doing?”  I say, while placing a soft (sort of) slap on the back of his head. He swats my hand away after, and continues to rub his head. He pouts, “Stop ruining my best feature.” 

“No, your best feature is your Quidditch skills, not your stupid hair that needs to be cut.” I scold, and look at him, disappointed. I continue, “What did you think you were during? Trying to drink Firewhiskey of all things!” 

A drunk seventh year passes us and shouts, “Yeah little Weesilie, you should try something lighter for your first time.” 

“Bugger off!” I shout at him, and I turn back to Charlie. I rant, “There’s a reason why people below fifth year aren’t allowed to be at parties and being at parties includes alcohol, so until a few more years, you’re not allowed to have any-” 

“A few more years! I’m fourteen as soon as I hit that big 15 like you and Bill, I’m gonna have some.” Charlie says, and he complains, “All my friends have some, and so do you and Bill, why can’t I? It’s just one year.” 

“A year is a long time, Charlie, and so what if all your friends are doing bad things, doesn’t mean you should to, besides Bill and I don’t even like to drink. Even when you turn 15, you’re not going to be able to drink a lot because you’re a seeker, Charlie!” I reply, and he huffs and folds his arms together. 

“That still doesn’t mean that I won’t try it.” Charlie pouts, and he looks down at the floor. I start to feel a little bad for being too hard on him, so I pull him in for a hug, surprised as to how he’s my height now. I say, “If you want to, you could, but until then, it’s off limits.” 

I smile at him, and ruffle his hair a bit. I pull my hand back then put it back on his hair again, and play with a few locks. His face flushes, and he grins at me when I say, impressed, “You weren’t lying, you definitely have the best hair.” 

“You must be lying because you’ve seen my hair.” Bill interrupts and he walks out of the first year boy’s dorms. Charlie looks at me with a panicked look, and I contemplate if I should tell Bill about what just transpired. I play, “No, I have, Charlie’s hair is just better.” 

Charlie pokes his tongue out at Bill, and I grin, and Bill slaps the back of Charlie’s head. Charlie grimaces and mumbles, “You two really are best friends…” 

“Go on, back to your dorm, now.” I say, and he rushes up the stairs. Bill sits down on the stairs and he pulls me down by his hand. I notice how large his hand is compared to mine. I sit down beside him, on the other side of the steps and he sits opposite to me, backs against the walls of the spiralling staircase. Bill asks, “What was he doing down there?” 

“Got lost, I guess…” I trail off, deciding that Charlie’s learnt his lesson. Bill looks back at the first year dorms, and he explains, “One of Percy’s friends, Oliver, found me and said that he couldn’t find Percy, he was afraid that Percy got trampled or squished by the people at the party-” 

We both laugh, and he continues, “Then a few minutes later, Percy walks in, alright and everything…so, thank you.” 

“Hey, I had nothing to do with it, Percy’s very smart.” I say, keeping Percy’s secret. Bill fiddles with the carpeted floor of the stairs and he replies, “I know you he is, but I also know that you helped, he was out at the library again, just like you helped Charlie.”

I don’t say anything and so, Bill smiles at me, and he says, “You don’t have to take care of them, it’s my responsibility, I can do it myself.” 

“I know you can, but they’re sort of like my little brothers too, so I want to.” I reply, and we sit in the silence for a bit. It was a completely normal moment, Bill and I never felt the need to fill in the silence, but for some reason, he asked, “Does that mean that you think I’m your brother too?” 

The question takes me off guard, and my heart lurches to my throat. My eyes flicker between his, searching for the right answer. Maybe for the first time ever, I find Bill hard to read. I choose to give him the truth, so I think of what that is. I couldn’t classify Bill as a sort of family, but I also don’t know where I would put Bill. I opt for the simple answer , not wanting to think about more. I didn’t even know if there was more. I replied, “No…” 

He shuffles a bit closer and the air is charged between us. I pull my knees together and pull them to my chest, to make way for him to come closer. I brush an annoying lock out of my eyes, not wanting to spend a second not looking at him. He says, abruptly, "You're very handsome…”

He notices what he’s said and he flushes, I let out a small laugh and notice the way his face heats up, and how mine is also red. The contrast between his brownish red freckles and his skin and the way his nose seems to be at a perfect angle, Bill honestly was just so- “You’re pretty too”

He smiles at my comment, and he looks at my eyes, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Why can’t I understand what he’s doing? When have I ever not understood what he’s doing? Ever since Tonks made me realise how drop-dead gorgeous Bill is, I-

“If I’m not your brother, what am I then?” He asks, and he searches my eyes for the answer that I don’t even know myself. He isn’t my friend, it feels wrong to say it, and I don’t know what other thing Bill could be for me, but we’ve been friends for a decade now. I answer, “I don’t know.” 

“Friend?” 

“I don’t know.” I repeat, and I look down at the floor, not being able to stand his piercing blue eyes trained on me anymore. His hand grazes my cheek, pushing the hair behind my ear, the contact makes me shoot up to look at his eyes. It feels different, so much more different than any other look we’ve shared before. He adds, “I don’t know either…” 

His hand cups my cheek, and it feels so much more, but what even is more between Bill and I? He brushes his thumb over my cheekbones, and he leans in. My legs part slightly, so he can shift closer. I didn’t even realise what I’d done till he was only a few centimetres away from my face. He looks at me, searching, and then down to my lips. 

My breath hitches, and I can see his chest heave. My lips part under his gaze, and he leans closer. Maybe this is what more means for us? I don’t know what could happen after but I know this-I lift my hand up to encase his wrist. His eyes flicker back to mine, and I say, “You’re never going to be the same to me after this.” 

“You haven’t been the same to me in a while.” His last words before he gives me one last look before he kisses me. 

***

The summer passed by in a blur where it’s nothing but hazy memories of Bill. It’s not a surprise that I spend most of my summer at the Weasleys with my parents working all around the world. The surprise is the way Bill grasps my hand under the table, and the whispers between us are now sweet not taunts and games. 

He would send me cheeky smiles and flirty grins across the room. He would wake me up in the middle of the night and take me from Ginny’s room so we could go watch the stars outside the Burrow, laying on the grass, just like now…

“I can’t believe that we’re about to go back to Hogwarts in two days.” Bill says, as he wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me impossibly close to him. Contact has never been unknown between us, but this was entirely new. I run my hands through his long hair, and I sigh, “Yeah, two more years and we’re out of Hogwarts.” 

“Everything will change…” I trail off, scared of what’s to come, when we’re getting real jobs and we’re not sheltered anymore, out to fend for ourselves. Bill looks at me and I can see the stars shine from his eyes, and it’s a mesmerising sight. Bill pecks my lips before saying, “Not us, never us.” 

I smile as he nuzzles his face into my neck, and I wrap my arms around his back. I hope he’s right, I really do hope he is. I don’t know what I could do without Bill. I wonder if his family knows about us, if they feel what’s changed. The only one who does know is poor Percy when he wandered off in the library only to find us snogging in between the bookshelves. 

The other person who knows about us is Charlie but that’s because the boy was smart when it comes to things like these. He noticed the blush on my cheeks first then Bill’s smiles and then one day he dropped his spoon under the table during dinner and he saw our legs intertwined. He didn’t mention it at first until the next day, when he did the same thing on purpose, and he noticed Bill holding my hand. 

He spent the entirety of that week trying to find us doing something. When we were together, he would suddenly burst through the door screaming, ‘AHA!’, and then he’d find us playing cards on the floor. We realised what he was doing early on, but we let him have his fun, until one day, he gave up and burst through the door once again, and said, “Why won’t you guys tell me that you’re dating?” 

I answered first, “Because we aren’t…” 

Bill nodded along, but Charlie looked beyond confused. He questioned us; Do you hold hands? Spend time together? Act all cute and annoying? Kiss each other? Bill replied yes to all of the questions and then Charlie asked us why we weren’t dating already, and I couldn’t help but wonder the same thing as well. 

I run my hands through his hair and I ask, tentatively, “Bill…” 

He hums, and I try to find the courage to ask before it’s all gone and forgotten because I need to know. I try to ask the most dreaded question in the world, in a confident matter like it didn’t matter at all to me what his answer might be, instead I stutter, “I-What are we?” 

He pauses, tenses, a few seconds pass then he lifts his head out of the crook of my neck and he hesitates, “I don’t know.” 

A beat passes, and I press, “I mean, when we go back-to Hogwarts, and some girl asks you out, what will you say?” 

He reaches the hand that was wrapped around my waist and rubs the back of his neck. He replies, “I don’t know.” 

“What if a guy asks me out?” I ask, scanning for answers in his eyes, hoping to elicit a reaction that he would care if he were to share me with someone else, that he’s mine and I am his. He shrugs his shoulders and says, “You’ll just say what you want to say.” 

He puts back his arm around my waist and he puts his face back into the crook of my shoulder. I sigh, unsatisfied with the answer. I place my hands back into his hair and play with the long ginger strands. His breath tickles my neck and he starts planting kisses on my shoulder. He trails them up to my neck and I sigh, contently. He begins to nibble and suckle the skin while I begin to tug on his hair. 

He lowers his hand that’s on my waist, bit by bit till he reaches my butt. He squeezes firmly causing me to gasp and press my hips forward towards him. I feel it, I feel him and Merlin, he’s- His hand trails lower to my thighs and it encourages me to sling my leg around his hip. His mouth moves up to my jaw, and then to my mouth. His tongue slips inside my mouth and he pushes his hips against mine. He groans and I pull away, I ask, “Here?” 

“What if your parents wake up, or someone notices? We can not traumatise someone else like we did with Percy and Charlie-” Bill silences me by pressing his lips against mine and that’s when I feel him start to harden underneath me. I moan as I wrap my legs more firmly around him as I press our hips tightly together. Bill pulls back this time, and he looks over at me, my hair sprawled everywhere and I feel the heat in my face. I press my hands to my cheeks feeling the difference in temperature. I ask, “Is my face red? It feels like it is.” 

Bill smiles and pulls my hands down and kisses me. He replies, “No, it’s perfect.” 

***

Bill Weasley is my first everything, kiss, first time, first whatever this thing was, and first heartbreak even if we technically didn’t stop. I was alright with it, I was because it felt like he was just as into me as I was into him. Just because we didn’t label the thing that we had doesn’t mean that we have to. It’s Bill, and I trust him. 

It was all going alright, more than alright, it was great, there wasn’t a moment that I didn’t spend with him, and I was so sure that I was falling for him, if I hadn’t already. I was on my way to Ancient Runes when I heard Bill’s voice, I perked up, until I heard another female voice with him. I slow down and I overhear the conversation. 

“Do you?” The female voice asks. 

“No, I uh, I don’t.” Bill

“So, you don’t have a girlfriend?” I can hear the grin in her voice

“Nope, I’m single.” 

I feel my eyes well up and I take a few deep breaths willing them away before deciding that I’m going to be taking a different route, and I end up late to class. The thing that I was worried about happened, and ugh, what am I going to do with myself if he does end up getting a girlfriend and it’s not me? 

I avoided Bill like the plague for a week, the only Weasleys I’m speaking to were Charlie and Percy, but even then it hurt, they looked so much like him. I cried more than I’m proud of, and even when Bill did try to talk to me, I would simply just walk away. 

It’s been exactly a week since I overheard Bill and I’m on my way to ancient runes once more. Someone calls my name, and Edgar Bones walks over to me. I wait for him to catch up and he smiles at me with a boyish grin. Bones asks, “You need a walk to class?” 

“Umm, I’m alright.” I reply, and walk on, but Bones follows. He walks along beside me and says, “Well, I’d like to give you one if you don’t mind.” 

I don’t reply and simply make my way to class, hoping that Bill wouldn’t get the wrong idea seeing me and Bones- wait, why should I care about what Bill thinks? He’s not my boyfriend as he’s made it very clear to some girl. I take Bill out of my mind and walk on. Bones walks beside me, an appropriate distance away. Halfway through the walk he looks towards me and asks, “Would you like me to carry your books?” 

“No, I’m alright.” I reply and adjust my bag over my shoulder and the books that are on my arm. I wonder what he might be doing walking me to class. Over the past six years, we’ve only had a few conversations all involving school or Quidditch. Nonetheless, he reaches over and grabs the books out of my arm, and I mumble a thank you at the kind gesture. 

We reach the door of the class, and I stand there. I look around while noticing Bones shuffling on his feet. I decide to be blunt and ask, “Bones, we’ve talked about four times since we’ve known each other, why are you walking me to class and holding my books?” 

“I-uh, I know this is out of the blue for you, but I-” He cuts himself off and looks around nervously. His gaze falls on something behind me and I look around to see McLaggen giving Bones two thumbs up, I look back at Bones confused and he clears his throat. He asks, “Would you like to go out with me?” 

It’s my turn to look around nervous, and shuffle awkwardly on my feet. I reply, “It’s just that we don’t know each other that well.” 

“I was hoping we’d get to do that over some butterbeer.” He says, and I notice the red tint on his cheeks. The silence is tense. I think it over; Bones is quite fit, and he’s one of the smartest people in Hufflepuff, I’ve heard he’s actually quite kind also. Besides, not like anyone is holding me back anymore. I say, “Sure then.” 

He beams and he raises his hand up in a thumbs up, no doubt to show McLaggen, it’s sort of cute, if you think about it. He plans, “How about tomorrow? I’ll pick you up at eleven and we’ll head over to the three broomsticks?” 

“That sounds good.” I say, and he grins. He hands me my books back then says quickly, “Well, I’ve got class in two minutes, so I have to run. I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

He breaks off into a run, McLaggen following behind him, and I head inside class. I sit in the middle beside the wall where I usually sit, and think about this date. I don’t like Bones, but most people don’t have feelings for the person that they’re going on a first date with. After the date is when the feelings pop up. It’s actually nice to be asked out, and not to be kissed once everyday when no one’s watching. 

I was getting excited about the prospect, thinking about what to wear, how to style my hair, when Bill walks in. He looks at me with a deep frown and heads off to sit beside someone else. I expected him to try to talk to me like he has in all of our classes, but he didn’t. He stares out the window for the entirety of class, which is unlike him, especially during the class that made him realise that he wanted to be a cursebreaker. 

I take a few notes, more than I usually do without noticing just in case Bill needed some after class. He would do the same when I would doze off during class or when I was sick. The bell rings and I put my books in my bag and sling it over my shoulder, holding a few on my arm. I barely walk out of class when someone pulls on my bag, pulling me back as well. I say, “Hey!” 

“Is it true?” Bill asks, just as I register that it’s him and not someone that I don’t know. His cheeks are flushed, but in the way that makes him seem agitated. I look at him confused and I ask, “What?” 

“You’re going out on a date with Bones? Is it true?” He asks, and I find myself pursing my lips and avoiding to answer. He runs a hand through his hair frustrated, and then continues, “Cause maybe, you didn’t know it was a date? Did you know?” 

“Can we not do this here?” I ask, when I see people stopping walking around and looking at me and Bill instead. A few whispers follow, and Bill grabs my hand to lead me somewhere more crowded. We stand in front of a large window with the sunlight beaming through and it’s near a hidden alcove where no one comes often. The hallway is empty and Bill doesn’t say anything before he sighs and asks, “Are you really?” 

“Yes.” I reply, and I can see his shoulders fall. He takes a few steps closer to me and asks me, “Did you know it was a date?” 

“Yes, I did, I’m not an idiot.” I snap, and his shoulders tense over and his frown deepens. His stance becomes defensive and he folds his arms over his chest. He says, “Bones is a dick, he just uses girls for sex, and he’s a big jerk.” 

“No, he’s not-” 

“He’s mean to his family and he treats his friends badly-” 

“No! He doesn’t, Bill.” I shout, “Stop making him try to seem like a jerk just so I won’t go out with him.” 

He bites his lip and looks away. His chest is heaving and his jaw clenches. I take a step back and I whisper, “You don’t have a say on who I go out with, you’re not my boyfriend.” 

Bill eyes me for a moment, and I try to stand my ground. He sighs, before turning around and leaving in a huff. I can hear his angry footsteps even after he’s out of my line of sight. 

***

The entire time when I’m getting ready to go out on a date, I think of Bill. Bill always said he liked my hair up, so I’m keeping it down. He liked me in red, so I’m wearing blue, anything to keep him out of my head. It’s my first ever date with a guy who might actually want to be my boyfriend instead of Bill who would kiss me and leave. 

10.55

I walk downstairs and decide to wait the last few minutes outside the common room while I wait for Bones. I’m just about at the end of the stairs when Charlie rushes over to me. “Hi, Honey!” 

“Oh, Hi Charlie.” I wave to him while he walks over to me. He smiles and he walks over to me, way too slowly. He reaches me and asks, “What are you doing dressed up so nice?” 

“Nothing much, Charlie.” I reply, not wanting to tell the boy that things with Bill and I are what they are. He looks me up and down, and narrows his eyes at me. He asks, “Are you going out on a date?” 

10.57

“I uh- yeah.” I say, reluctantly. Charlies purses his lips, thinking. He looks at me, confused. He thinks out loud, “That’s weird, Bill told me that he wasn’t going to Hogsmeade today.” 

“I’m not going with Bill.” I say, and Charlie’s face falls and he’s looking at me with those heartbroken puppy eyes. My heart aches, and I can’t stand it much longer. I rush, “I’ll talk to you later, Charlie.” 

10.58

I look up from my watch as I make it to the door of the common room when a small little redhead steps between me and the door. Percy grins up at me, and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He holds a book out to me and he asks, “Hey, honey! Could you help me with this potions chapter?” 

“Of course, Percy just when I head back, it’s hogsmeade weekend.” I explain and his smile falls. I wonder why I am breaking all of the young Weasley’s hearts today. Percy asks, “Where are you going at Hogsmeade?” 

“I’m not sure you’d know what I’m talking about Percy, you’ve never been there before.” I reply and look back at my watch. 

10.59

“I still wanna know.” Percy insists, and I reply, “I’m going to this place called ‘the three broomsticks’ where I’m going to have some drinks and stuff like butterbeer.” 

Percy nods his head, looking intrigued. He strokes his chin like an old man deep in thought. He says, “Tell me more about it.” 

“I would love to, Percy and I will, but I have to get going now.” I say, and he frowns, I ruffle his hair and try to soften the blow, “But how about, when I get back, after lunch maybe, we can go to the library and I’ll tell you all about it and I’ll help you with potions.” 

He nodded and then quickly ran back up the stairs…weird. I finally open the door to the common room and I see Bones standing a few feet away from the door. He waves to people in our year as he greets them. 

11.00 

I look at my watch and I smile at his punctuality. He grins when he sees me and I offer a polite smile back. I walked over to him and he met me halfway. He tells me that I look pretty and I tell him the same. He loops our arms together and we walk through the castles to where the carriages are being pulled towards Hogsmeade. We talked a little most of the time but a lot at other times. We sat watching the snowfall on the ground from the window. He tells me his favourite season is spring, I tell him mine is autumn. 

He told me how this is his first date and I told him the same. I can tell that he’s itching to ask Bill and I’m dying for him not to. We drink butterbeer and he offers to pay. We talk about our plans and how he wants to be a healer. I tell him that I’m not sure. He said that it’s okay. I smile at him as he tells me that he loves Potions and he does the same when I talk about Arithmancy. 

When we’re in the carriages heading back when there’s about an hour left till lunch, he tells me he’s had a great time and I tell him the same. He pulls his jacket around my shivering arms, and then leans forward to kiss me. I reciprocate and then he tells me that he wants to hold on to the date a little bit more. 

We hop off the carriage and it takes us the better part of an hour to walk back to the castle ourselves. We talk for most of the time, the other half just listening to the sound of our footsteps on the snow. He trips over a branch on the ground and falls face first into the snow. His face leaves an imprint on the snow and I bend over laughing. He throws a snowball at my face, and that’s when the snow fight begins. 

We fall on the ground when he asks if I like Bill, and dreadidly I say yes. He assures me and tells me that he’s still happy to have known me better. We decide that if he’s ever in need of an Arithmancy tutor that he can come to me, and his door is always open when I need help with potions. 

The date ended and it was a good first date even if it didn’t end with a new romantic prospect.  Lunch is almost over, so I grab a few snacks from the Great Hall before heading over to my dorm to change before meeting up with Percy in the library. Charlie stops me as soon as I enter the common room. 

“I need your help!” Charlie exclaims and I get worried very quickly. He drags me by my hand up the staircase to the boy’s dormitories and I hope that the staircases don’t turn into a slide beneath us. He leads me up and up and up the stairs till we reach the fifth year boy’s dorms. Bill’s dorms. On our way there, he asks, “You said Bill doesn’t like alcohol.” 

“He doesn’t.” I reply and Charlie tuts before he opens the door to Bill’s dorm. I smell the alcohol before I see Bill. He’s lying on the floor, with his hand wrapped around a bottle of Firewhiskey. I hear some tiny sobs before walking over to him, falling to my knees in worry. I wave over to Charlie, motioning for him to leave while I take care of Bill. 

Bill beams when he sees me. His hand reaches over to cup my face, and he stutters, “You’re very very pretty, honey.” 

I press a tiny kiss to his forehead to soothe him, and he closes his eyes in momentary bliss and I can see the tears streaks running from under his eyes and over his cheeks. I lean to grasp the bottle of Firewhiskey from his hand, but he tightens his grip over it. He protests, “No!” 

“Come on, Bill. You don’t even like this thing.” I insist and pry the bottle out of his fingers. I put it away on one of his other roommates' nightstands.  Bill frowns, “I know, I know, I just need it today, just today…” 

He lets out a sob, and I push him up so he can sit upright and rub circles on his back. He leans his head on my shoulder and he holds my hand. He sighs softly and I ask, “Why do you need it today, Bill?” 

“Cause you’re o-on a date.” Bill says, and my heart pounds under my chest. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Bill like this. He rambles, “You went out with someone else, you laughed and you went to the three broomstick, and he kissed you-” 

“Wait, you followed me?” I ask, anger bubbling. Bill notices and he quickly lifts his head from my shoulder and looks at me, eyes wide. I still push a strand of his long hair over his eyes. He grasps my head from his face and he chokes out another sob, “I couldn’t help it, I love you!” 

I gasp, and Bill sobs covering his face with his hands. I look away, feeling my eyes water, why couldn’t he feel those emotions when sober? I blink away the tears and I pull him to my chest, and he wraps his arms around me, hugging me tight that I might fear for my ribs. I pet his head and whisper, “It’s okay, it’s okay.” 

“You can’t like him, I love you!” Bill repeats and I can’t help but start to let a few tears slip. Bill shouldn’t be spilling anymore thoughts when he’s like this, especially if they might not be true. I say, “Let’s get you to bed.” 

“Only if you stay.” Bill says, and I nod my head. I help him up and he falls. He starts tripping over his feet, as I lead him to his bed, the one with the photo of his face on the nightstand beside it. I cover him with a blanket and I move away from him. He grabs a hold of my wrist. I reassure him, “I’m only going to get the trash in, just in case you decide to throw up.” 

He nods, and then lets go of my wrist slowly. I grab the trash bin and a glass of water, and set them both beside him. He grabs me again, and he pulls me on top of him. He smiles when he sees my face. He cups my face and rubs his thumb across my cheekbones. It felt nice, like it wasn’t complicated at all. It felt the same way it did during the summer, and I covered his hand with my own. His smile dropped and he asked, “Why did you have to go away?” 

“What are you talking about, Bill?” 

“You haven’t talked to me in a while.” Bill says, and I clear my throat before correcting him, “A week isn’t a while.” 

“A few minutes not talking to you is agony enough.” Bill says, and I sigh. He looks up at me with those bright blue eyes, and his other hand goes to my back, lifting up a slight part of my shirt before settling down on my warm, bare skin. I answer, “You told a girl that you didn’t have a girlfriend.” 

He frowns and purses his lips, thoughts travelling throw them, slower than they would if he were sober. The pieces joining together before his lips part in astonishment. He asks, “You want to be my girlfriend?” 

It takes me a moment. I didn’t know at first, but the feeling of it, of having him call me his, kissing him whenever I can. I still don’t think that would be enough, I want more, so much more than just that. I reply, “I want to be more than that with you Bill.” 

“How?” 

“I don’t know.” 

***

“We’re just so proud of Bill for taking this step forward.” Molly gushes about Bill to me. We’re all sitting at the dinner table just a month into the summer before our seventh and final year. The Gred and Forge, Ginny and Ron are on one side of the table. Arthur sits at the head at the table Charlie opposite to him while Molly sits next to Bill who sits next to me. 

None of the kids care about the conversation, just eating little chicken nuggets and some fries with chocolate milkshakes, playing with each other. As Fred and George tell eachother jokes, while Ron munches on his food. Ginny just plays with her hair trying to braid tiny strands of it without looking. 

Charlie is just rolling her eyes at how much Molly is gushing about Bill, while Bill flushes trying to get her to stop, embarrassed. Arthur is making sure that Fred and George don’t set the table on fire, due to previous experiences. Molly says one thing that peaks my interest, “I mean taking an internship that could lead to a job in Egypt, obviously he’ll visit a lot-” 

“What internship?” I cut Molly off asking, tense, and the table went silent. I look at Bill questioningly. Bill swallows his last bit of food before turning to look at me. Molly exclaims, “Oh, I’ve said something wrong, Haven’t I? I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s alright, Molly.” I reassure her from behind Bill, while he pets his mother’s arm. Bill clears his throat and looks at me explaining, “I didn’t take it, I still have to get accepted.” 

“In Egypt?” I ask, frowning at the far off place, in an entirely different continent. He says softly, “Yeah.” 

“It’s a curse breaking internship, and who knows maybe I’ll be working there around tombs and mummies and-” Bill explains, and I question, “And you’re just going?” 

“If I get accepted-” 

“And you’re gonna leave.” I point out, and he looks around awkwardly as Ginny starts asking Arthur where Bill is going and why he’s leaving. Molly and Aurthur usher everyone out of the dinning area just leaving Bill and I there. We sit in silence, and I don’t know where to even start. Don’t go, stay. How could you leave? I start, “Were you going to tell me about this?” 

“I didn’t want to tell you before I got it, would’ve been a lot of worry for nothing.” Bill says, and I turn around my chair to face him. He does the same. Our knees touching and legs intertwined. I ask, “And if you get it?” 

I wait for his answer as he looks down at the ground and I put my hand out grabbing his hand in mine. I play with his hand with both of mine and I place it on my lap. HE stays silent and I ask, “Would you go?”

“I-I don’t know, probably.” Bill says, and I feel pieces of my heart start to crack off. My hold on his hand tightens and I question, “What about your family? I’m sure Molly needs a helping hand around here. Charlie and Percy need their older brother, Who’s gonna keep Fred and George in line? Ron looks up to you, and Ginny loves you so much-” 

Bill cuts me off with a strong kiss on my lips while his hand encases my face. It’s the first one in a while and I relish in it. When Bill woke up after my date, he couldn’t remember anything but through a heated discussion we decided to take a few steps back. He was just my friend again. I hold his face in between my hands, and I whisper softly, “I need you to stay.” 

Bill places some more kisses onto my face and he hugs me tightly. I pull him closer, and think of how he could go. Go and be so far away. I ask from the crook of his neck, “How long would this internship be?” 

“A year.” 

“That’s not a long time…” I convince myself and him. He grabs my waist tighter and he says, “Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure that I won’t get it.” 

But he did. 

***

After a year of not seeing Bill, my first year working as the new professor of Arithmancy at Hogwarts, I might as well be jumping off the walls, bursting from excitement just to see him again. We had spent our seventh year in agony waiting to see if he got the internship or not, and when he did, I spent the last of the year, holding onto him until he had to leave. 

He didn’t kiss me once that year, except when we were on the train for the last time, heading back to platform 9 ¾ . We stayed as we were, except I stayed true to my word. I couldn’t see him as simply my friend anymore. Whenever he hugged me I wanted to savour that feeling forever. When he talked I wished I could listen to him talk forever and have those lips on mine. When he held Ginny and played with her hair, braiding it, I couldn’t help but picture a future like this, with him. 

When he came back, flew in through the Floo network from the ministry, I wasted no second in running towards him and wrapping my arms around his neck. The sounds of his siblings cheer loudly and they push me aside to hug their brother, and I chuckle at their love for him.

He flicks Fred and George’s hair telling them to stop getting so tall or they might catch up to him. He tells Ginny that she’s still as beautiful as ever, and for Ron to set up the wizarding chess board for a game later tonight. He asks Percy to get all his books ready so he can tell him an in depth description about all of them, and for Charlie to start stretching so he can beat his ass in quidditch. All the while, he shoots me looks from over their shoulders. 

Molly kisses her son and scolds him for not writing more often, he tells her that there simply wasn’t enough time, and then Molly, ushers everyone out. I stare at Bill and notice how his arms got larger and he became more chiselled (if possible), I point to the most notable difference. I point to his hair that’s currently in a low bun, making him look so very handsome. I ask, “You grew your hair.” 

“Yeah, Mom’s already begged me to cut it twice already.” He chuckles, and I take a few steps forwards towards him. I hug him and put my arms around his neck, and he moves his head to kiss me instead. Kissing me hard, and passionately. It takes me by surprise and I gasp, “Bill, what?” 

I don’t get a chance as his lips are back on mine, kissing me harder. I chuckle at his intent, and he wraps his arms around me. Our chests pressed against each other. I breathe him in deeply, and I realise how much I missed him. Every little thing about him too. I pull away to breathe and Bill chases after my lips. That’s when I realise something’s wrong. He’s kissing me because he needs to, he’s holding onto me. 

“They’ve given me the job full time-” Bill says and I immediately frown. I start, “I-” 

He cuts me off with another powerful kiss and another few seconds of silence where I can hear my heartbeats in my ears due to the lack of oxygen. It felt so blissful despite the ache in my chest because of the lack of air and Bill’s words. Bill starts, “They want me to take the job and move their full time-” 

“Bill-” 

“But I won’t go, if you ask me to stay.” Bill finishes, and I’m struck by his words. He pecks my lips once more, and I’m left reeling with all this information. I smile, bittersweetly, “You got your dream job…” 

“But it’s so far away.” I say, and he nods his head. He pulls my hands in his and he can already feel where I’m going with this. He rants, “You asked me what we are, and I said I don’t know, I never knew, but now I do.” 

“You can’t turn down your dream-” 

“I know now, I know that I want you, and that I love you, and if you tell me to stay I will. I’ll stay, just tell me to. Tell me that you’ll be mine.” Bill says and he lifts his hands to cup my face, looking at me as if I was the most precious thing in his life, but I’m not. He says, “I never wanted to tell you because I was an idiot, an idiot who was scared that you didn’t want him, an idiot who thought that he would lose you, if he told you he loved you.” 

I counter, “This is your dream, Bill. Your future, what you’ve always wanted-”

“No, you’re my future and I’m sorry that I didn’t know it before, but I do know. Ask me to stay, please.” he begs, and I pull his hands down. I look at him cause this might just be one of the few times that I’m going to see him for a long time. I’ve long had the image of his face pressed into my mind. I need to make sure that it withstands the test of time. I reason, “I-I’m not going to make this decision for you by asking you to stay, you might regret as time goes on-” 

“I can never regret you.” 

“I’m not going to stand in the way of this opportunity for you…you need to make it by yourself. And I’ve always been yours…” I trail off, and press a kiss on his lips. He looks at me dejected and helpless. I say, “Now, let’s go back in, your family’s waiting for you.”

***

Bill’s heading to the ministry any second now to head to the Floo network so he can go to Egypt. His family is going with him, so they can watch him Floo away, and they asked me to come, but I couldn’t because seeing his face before he goes, I might do something stupid like ask him to stay just for me, or maybe go to Egypt right with him. 

Molly said she’d come and see me after, they all will definitely be in need of a hug, especially Ginny who’s not going to bear being the only one at the Burrow anymore. I prepared a lot of food for everyone to come and get while they all cope with having Bill move away. I’m not sure I’ve copped myself, I don’t think I ever will. 

Knocks echo on my door, and I wave my wand pulling the food out on the table that I’ve arranged mishapely to gather enough chairs for the entire family. I arrange a few more things with the flick of my wand and I realise that I’ve forgotten the cups. I head over to the cupboard, and I flick my wand over to the door, making it fly open. 

“Just let yourself in Molly, I’m just putting down the cups!” I pull out eight cups and I hold them in my arms haphazardly, I make my way to the table and start arranging them. I put down all the cups, until there’s two left- “I’m not Molly.” 

I looked over my shoulder to where Bill was standing, bags at hand. He smiles at me and I smile back. I look at the clock, and I say, “Couldn’t do without a goodbye? But you’ll miss your Floo time, and you have to go where you’re supposed to-” 

“I’m right where I’m supposed to be.” Bill says, and my bittersweet smile drops. I look at him questioningly. He couldn’t possibly mean- He answers my thoughts, “I’m not going.” 

He sets his bags down and I put the last two cups randomly on the table. I fiddle with my fingers anxiously. I say, “I don’t want you to throw away your dream for me.” 

“It’s more like picking one dream over the other.” Bill says, still standing by the door. He continues, “I want to be a cursebreaker, and I still can be here in England, but I can’t have the life I always wanted with you if I’m miles away, and that’s what I want more than anything.” 

It’s the last of the confirmation that I need before heading over to him, rushing into his arms, as he finally holds me, and he whispers that he loves me. He kisses me and I forget to brace myself over how dizzy and giddy he makes me, finally as my own.

a/n: hope you liked it!

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Magic Lessons p.2 | B.W.

feat. Bill Weasley x intern!reader

SUMMARY: Things escalate with your boss, Bill Weasley, at the twins birthday party when you plot to make him jealous. But he gets his revenge back at the office.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, jealous!Bill, reader gets a lil toxic, oral (f receiving), age gap, bill is a pleasure dom I don't make the rules, mentions of alcohol and smoking, strong language

part one | part three

Things shifted between you and Bill after that night. You were more than just coworkers, mentor and apprentice, you developed a mutual understanding.

And what started as a little crush has grown into a beast with teeth, eating you alive, consuming every spare moment of your life. You had never felt so connected to someone before, so attuned to their feelings and desires, like your souls were tied together.

You couldn't be sure how he felt about you, but he seemed to read your mind as well as you did his. He somehow could anticipate your needs, no matter how trivial, and would go well out of his way to ensure those needs were met.

He was also fiercely protective, a trait of his that claimed several more victims than Waylan as the weeks progressed. But for you, Bill seemed to have a never ending well of patience. You couldn't ignore the amount of times you caught his gaze lingering on you, or the frequency he went out of his way to touch you, to help you, to serve you.

But you just couldn't believe that Bill Weasley would be even remotely interested in someone like you. Not to mention, the professional boundaries of your relationship were still intact.

It had been three months since the incident with the cursed axe, and it was the twins birthday. You hadn't spoken about the fact that you would both be attending the same party outside of work, but the thought made your nerves tingle with adrenaline.

You and Bill had only seen each other at work or during work-related functions. But this, attending a family party, felt like uncharted territory.

Would he be willing to cross the lines of professionalism? You weren't sure. Would you be willing to risk a career at Gringotts? Again, you weren't sure. But every day, it became harder and harder to ignore the burgeoning heat between you, that soul tie winding tighter and tighter.

You were at a standstill, paralyzed by indecision, and it was driving you mad.

The two of you were the last in the office, and you slipped away to get ready in the bathroom while he finished things up. You changed into your outfit, a maxi dress in your favorite color with a pair of heeled boots, and refreshed your makeup.

You did a small turn in the mirror, a wave of insecurity making you doubt your selection. Was it too tight for a birthday party? Too formal? Not formal enough?

Well, it was the only one you brought, so it would have to do. You collected your things a returned to Bill's office.

When you pushed open the door, you found him mid-change, wearing a white sleeveless undershirt and fastening a black belt around his waist, his shirt folded neatly on the desk.

You knew he was strong from years of hard travel, but this. He was lean and toned, broad shoulders with a narrow waist, and even littered with scars from Fenrir’s attack, he was gorgeous.

“Oh! Bill, sorry. I didn't—” You managed to tear your gaze from his body up to his face, finding his eyes glued to you, jaw a little slack, and the apology died in your throat.

He lowered his hands to his sides, belt still undone. The simmering heat between you bloomed to an inferno at your open perusal of one another, and you found yourself taking a step towards him, brainless as a moth.

His hands flexed, then balled into fists, and you paused, a flicker of reality passing through the haze of desire.

“We need to go,” he said, clearing his throat and grabbing his shirt.

You nodded, disappointment setting like a stone in your stomach.

You took the Floo System to the Burrow, managing to arrive only five minutes late.

“Bill!” His family cried, swarming him. But the twins went straight for you.

“Y/n! Look at you!” George gushed, pulling you in for a hug.

“Happy birthday to us,” Fred smirked, and you swatted his arm before pulling him in for a hug. Over Fred's shoulder, you caught Bill glaring daggers at his younger brother, but he quickly schooled his expression and turned his attention back to his father.

The twins introduced you to the few family members you hadn't met, and you answered the dozens of questions they threw your way while dinner was served. Bill was ignoring you almost entirely, caught up in conversation with his father and Percy. You knew you shouldn't take it personally, you were just colleagues after all, but it still rankled, and you could feel an attitude brewing.

Then, a wicked idea wormed it's way into your mind.

You laughed loudly at one of George's jokes, leaning into his side while he gestured in the air. He draped his arm over you, the type of platonic physical contact the two of you did all the time, but Bill didn't know that.

You saw Bill’s sharp eye snag on the movement, and bit your lips to keep from smiling at your small victory.

A few moments later, you reached over to take a sip of Fred's beer, making a show of wrapping your lips around the mouth of the bottle, your fingers delicate on the glass. You set the bottle down, then shifted to whisper something in Fred’s ear, your hand resting on his. You didn't say anything of real interest, just a little inside joke between the two of you. Fred chuckled, turning to whisper something back to you, and you grinned, winking at him.

You risked a glance at Bill and saw him white knuckling his empty whiskey glass, eyes trained on the birthday cake at the center of the table, and your confidence swelled.

“Mrs. Weasley, would you like some help clearing up for dessert?” You asked, batting your lashes.

“Oh, thank you, dearie!” She chirped, grinning at you.

You jumped up and started to collect the plates, using your wand to clear away the food. Moving around the table, you reached Bill, who was chatting with Ron about Ministry things. You leaned over Bill's shoulder, brushing against his arm to retrieve his plate, but he didn't react. Didn't even look up at you.

You huffed internally and brought the dishes to the kitchen, casing a spell so they'd wash themselves. You went to the fridge, retrieving a fresh beer for Fred and grabbed the bottle of fire whiskey from the counter.

You returned to the dining room and set the beer in front of Fred, who accepted with a smile.

“Thanks, love,” he cooed, taking a sip.

Then, you filled George's whiskey, careful to pour the correct amount. You could feel Bill’s eyes burning into you, his jaw clenched, and a giddy excitement flared in your lower belly. You capped the whiskey, licking a stray drop from your thumb, and returned it to the kitchen, leaving Bill’s glass dry.

Cake was served, and you let George feed you a few forkfuls while you and Fred told a few of your favorite stories from your time together at Hogwarts.

You knew you'd done it when Bill excused himself to smoke, a habit he never indulged in at work.

You knew it was wrong to push him, to strain whatever tenuous balance the two of you held, but you just couldn't help yourself. He was driving you insane.

After dessert, everyone ventured back into the living room for games and more drinks, and you slipped outside to find Bill.

He found you first.

An arm snaked out of the shadows and tugged you into the dark, directly into a hard chest.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Bill growled against your ear, the smell of smoke and whiskey clouding the air around him.

“I don't know what you mean,” you replied, tilting your head.

His took a drag off of his cigarette, glaring at you through the smoke. “You know better than to lie to me,” he warned.

“I didn't peg you for the jealous type, Mr. Weasley,” you teased, desire spilling through your body and making your thighs clench.

His free hand lifted, skimming your throat before moving around the nape of your neck. “It already kills me that they met you first, that they know you so well.” His grip tightened, scruffing you, and you gasped. “Is this what you wanted?” He rasped, his eyes locked onto yours.

“Yes, Bill,” you whimpered, pressing your body against his. “Please.”

He smiled, a wolfish, sharp thing, and dragged you the last few inches to his mouth. It was a rough kiss, a culmination of weeks of longing, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, prying your mouth open so he could taste you. His tongue tangled with yours and you moaned, getting drunk off of his lust, his dominance.

It was so different than his usual professional, collected demeanor. You knew he had an edge to him, an undercurrent of darkness that made him so adept at handling curses, but you never expected this. Having him be so rough, so needy, it made you want to climb him like a tree.

He flipped the two of you around, pressing you into the wall, his free hand splaying across your lower back to keep your hips anchored to his as he leaned into you. He felt so different than the other boys you'd been with, so confident and commanding, knowing exactly how to handle you and your desperation.

“Bill,” you gasped, head falling back as he kissed and licked down your throat, his teeth grazing your fluttering pulse. It felt like he was devouring you, biting off chunks of your rationality, your resolve, until you were nothing but a writhing, moaning mess in his arms.

His hand released your neck, sliding down to grab your waist. “But now I know you better, and I. Don't. Share.” Each snarled word was like shot of adrenaline to your heart, forcing your already dizzy self to clutch his shoulders to stay upright.

You nodded, desperate to be closer to him, to have him touch you. His possessiveness drove you crazy, had you practically foaming at the mouth for him, but he wasn't having it.

He grabbed your hands and removed them from his body, and you whined in protest. “Behave, and go back inside before you smell like smoke,” he ordered, though his voice was decidedly softer than before, almost breathless. He nudged you away from him and took another draw of his cigarette, the sharp planes of his face illuminated by the glowing tip.

Reluctantly, you ventured back inside, your thighs sticky with slick and knees weak. You were so focused on what you could do to drive him mad, you forgot entirely about what he could do to you.

So, you were in your best behavior the rest of the night. Charming the parents, befriending the other siblings, being as fun and social as you could manage. By the end of the night, you were buzzed, socially drained, and unbelievably horny, ready to pounce on Bill every time you caught his eye.

“Alright, we have to get to the bank early tomorrow. Y/n, I'll take you home.” He gave you a pointed look and you nodded. “Goodnight, family!” Bill called, hugging his siblings before ushering you towards the Floo Station.

“Happy birthday!” You hugged Fred and George on your way past, and half-stumbled into the Floo Station from exhaustion.

Bill caught you with a strong arm around your waist and held you up, casting the spell before his family could see how close your bodies were.

The next moment, you were back in the office, head spinning from the booze and the magic.

“Alright, love?” He asked, tightening his grip on you when you swayed on your feet.

You nodded and he released you, leaving you cold and unsteady. You walked in silence back to his office to get your things.

When you arrived, you stopped in the doorway. “M’sorry about earlier,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“So am I,” he replied, walking towards his desk and loosening his tie. Your stomach dropped.

“Why are you sorry?” You asked, bracing yourself for rejection. “I was the one that acted like an idiot.”

He looked up at you, a sharpness in his eyes. “Don't speak about yourself like that,” he snapped, and you nodded, looking at the floor.

You heard the tread of footsteps, then his hand reached out to hold your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. They were stormier than you'd ever seen them, the sky before a shipwreck.

“I'm sorry for being so rough with you, I can be—” his eyes flicked away, brow pinching in consternation. “After the attack, and the war, and the divorce…I can be cruel, angry. It's a part of me I don't like to show,” he admitted. “So I'm sorry if I frightened you, or overstepped.”

“You didn't frighten me,” you said, placing a tentative hand on his sternum, wanting to comfort him. “Far from it.”

He searched your face as you gazed up at him, starry eyed, and the silence stretched for a few moments.

“This is what I saw,” he murmured.

“What do you mean?” You asked, practically trembling with anticipation.

“When you wore the Chameleon necklace,” he replied, his eyes tracing the hollow of your throat before lifting back up to your face. “I saw you like this.”

“You wanted to see me like…this?” You asked, looking down at your dress, confused.

He shook his head, his hand moving up to caress your cheek. “No, not the dress,” he said, so close you could smell the whiskey on his breath. “That right there,” he hummed with a soft, satisfied smile, his thumb smoothing just underneath your lower lashline. “The desire in your eyes.”

Heat scorched your skin and your tried to pull away out of embarrassment, but he held you firm.

“No, darling. You're done hiding from me,” he said, the petname making your pussy thrum, slick collecting on the inside of your thighs. “I've been waiting to see that look in your eye. To see you need me as badly as I've needed you.”

Your heart stalled, your thoughts turning to static.

Needed me?

“I had to be sure this was what you really wanted, that I wasn't just seeing what I wanted to see…” he trailed off, expression softening as he continued to look into your eyes.

“I didn't think you wanted me,” you whispered, in complete disbelief. “I thought I was going crazy.”

“Perhaps we both have.” He bumped his nose against yours, warm breath fanning against your skin. “You've ruined me. My entire life I've been the epitome of restraint. But with you—” His thumb tugged at your lower lip, sending a tendril of arousal curling down your spine. “I can't seem to help myself.”

“Then don’t hold back,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and running your fingers through his hair. “I want you to ruin me too.”

“Sweet girl,” he cooed, feeding his thumb into your mouth. You flicked your tongue over it, tasting the salt of his skin before sucking lightly. “I intend to.”

He surged forward, capturing your lips in a breathtaking, soul-deep kiss that you felt through every nerve ending. You kissed him back eagerly, tugging his hair as he hauled you closer, lifting you into the air so you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Without breaking the kiss, he carried you across the office and set you down onto one of the overstuffed leather armchairs, the same one he conducted your interview in. He kissed you a moment longer, his tongue delving in to taste you before he withdrew and lowered himself to his knees in front of you.

“I'm going eat my fill of you, and you’re going to take it all,” he ordered, his voice rough and breathy, chest rising and falling quickly. “Okay?”

“More than okay,” you answered, nodding like an overeager bobble-head.

He chuckled, his eyes holding yours as he gathered up the fabric of your dress and pushed it up your legs, kissing your knees, and up your inner thighs, his long hair tickling the sensitive skin until he reached your clothed cunt, your white panties betraying how aroused you were.

“Look how pretty you are,” he exhaled, breath warm against your skin. “All this for me, baby?”

You nodded, combing your fingers through his red hair so you could see the lovesick look on his handsome face, his eyes soft and mouth upturned at the corners. It was all in such stark contrast to the brutal scars on his face, silvery in the waning candlelight.

You couldn't imagine someone being more beautiful than Bill was in this moment.

He hummed low in his throat, his tongue licking a stripe over your sodden panties and making you whine, desperate for him to touch you.

“How many times have you orgasmed in a row?” He asked, pulling your panties to the side with his middle finger.

“Oh, uh—” your cheeks warmed, caught off guard by the question. “Only once with a partner. Twice on my own. Why?”

You felt him smirk as he leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your swollen clit. “Three, then.”

“Three—oh god,” you moaned, grip tightening on his hair as he laved his tongue through your slit, flicking against your bud before repeating the motion, two, three, five times.

He nursed your clit between his teeth, lashing it with his tongue and making you buck your hips up, the pleasure too intense to hold still. He dropped a forearm over your lower stomach to keep you from moving away, your nails dragging across his skin as you cried out.

He moved down to your entrance, lapping at the pool of slick there before thrusting his tongue inside. With his other hand, he began to massage your clit with his thumb, the rough pad creating delicious friction over your sensitive skin.

Fuck, you could feel your orgasm building already, a coil of heat making your whole body tense and shake, unable to escape his pleasurable assault with his heavy arm holding you down.

“Taste so sweet,” he murmured against you, kitten licking your clit to make you twitch and gasp. He pulled back and spit on your pussy, gliding two fingers through your lips before easing one inside your drooling entrance. “Good girl, can you take another? I know you can—thaaaat’s it, love. Little pussy sucking me right in, so perfect for me.” He was speaking directly against your clit, the movement of his lips and flick of his tongue making your mind go fuzzy, your body ratcheting closer to release by the second.

He curled his fingers inside you, his lips finally sealing to your clit again, and you keened. Sensing you were close, he increased his pace, ruthlessly dragging you to the very edge.

“God, Bill—shit, I'm gonna come!” You cried, your fingers threading through his in an attempt to hang on while he sent you to orbit.

With a final flutter of his fingers against that spongy spot inside of you, you broke, a burst of dizzying pleasure making your eyes roll back, your body convulse in his hold as your orgasm tore through you.

“That's one,” he purred, only slowing for a moment so you could take a full breath before he ramped up his movements again, adding a third finger to your sloppy channel.

“Fuck, I can't—” you whined, tears squeezing from the corners of your eyes as your body was wound tight once again, helpless as a ballerina in a music box.

“You can. You will,” he ordered, his tone making your pussy clench around his fingers. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? You've got me now, darling."

“Bill, I—” you screamed as he bit down on your clit, sending you directly back over the edge again, your first orgasm not even fully dissipated before the second one slammed into you, faster and stronger, white hot. Like he'd forced it out of you with his expert touch and tongue.

“That's two. Well done, my love,” he cooed, soothing the bite with his tongue and gently removing his fingers.

You were in a daze, trembling and liquified, practically boneless in the chair. You'd never come so hard on your life.

“Ah-ah,” he chastised, reaching up to pat your cheek with his wet fingers before feeding them into your open mouth. “Not done with you yet.”

You sucked your release off his digits, mindless and happy to do whatever he wanted, so long as he keeps touching you like that.

He withdrew his fingers and lowered his head between your legs again, dragging his tongue through your sensitive folds, smiling when you shivered. With slow, unhurried strokes, he cleaned up the mess he'd made of you, making wide circles around your clit to apply less direct pressure and avoid overstimulating you.

“I could stay here forever,” he groaned, the vibration making you gasp. “Give me one more, yeah? Please? Let me be the one that takes you there.”

It was surreal, being completely at his mercy, yet he's the one begging you to let him make you come again. He'd rendered you completely brainless, and still wanted to give you more.

And you still had barely gotten to touch him.

It was the most delicious torture, the most exquisite suffering, and you knew you were so royally fucked.

There was no going back from this.

“Wanna touch you,” you whimpered, too far gone to do anything but squirm.

“Not yet, I told you how this was going to go. One more, then you’re getting some rest.” He hiked your leg over his shoulder, nuzzling against your pussy. “You don't want to be exhausted at work tomorrow, do you?”

You shook your head, having forgotten completely about anything that wasn't Bill Weasley and his magic fucking tongue.

“Good girl. Now relax and let me work.” He lifted you up slightly, angling you directly towards his mouth, and he resumed feasting, taking big, messy licks and sucks of your cunt, the sounds lewd and unabashed, and you fucking loved it.

You did as your were told and relaxed your muscles, sinking deeper into the chair with your legs in the air. You'd submitted to him already, but this was a a true surrender, passing your entire self, body and soul into his hands. Trusting that he would take care of every part of you.

“That's it, just like that,” he praised, kissing your sticky thighs before returning to suckle your clit, making your body hum back to life, pleasure beginning to mount once more.

You moaned his name, nails biting into the leather as he brought you higher and higher, his languid, self-indulgent movements making your head spin.

Feeling your body start to tremble, he flicked his tongue out, just the tip tickling against your hyper-sensitive bud, and you rolled over the edge, simmering, honeyed pleasure spilling through you as you came a third time. It wasn't a harsh, debilitating orgasm, but a blissful release of endorphins that brought tears to your eyes, your muscles and bones unraveling down to the cellular level.

“And there's three,” he said, placing a final, tender kiss to your clit before righting your panties and pulling your dress down.

You were completely blissed out, in your own world as he tugged you off of the chair and into his lap, pressing feather-light kisses up your neck and jaw.

“Come back to me, baby. Let me see those pretty eyes so I know you're alright,” he murmured against your cheek, his hands absently massaging your thighs and hips to guide you back into your body.

You blinked your eyes open, turning to press a kiss to his scarred cheek, your chest warm with affection.

“There she is.” He smiled, catching your lips in a soft, sipping kiss. “Okay, love?” He asked, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yeah,” you said, breathless. “That was—I’ve never—”

“You were amazing. And if you didn’t look ready to pass out, I would be taking number four and five.” He helped you sit up, fixing your hair and wiping away a streak of mascara with his thumb.

“Not possible,” you giggled, reaching up to brush the hair from his eyes, your hand moving down to cup his scarred cheek. “As talented as you are, there's no way I could come again.”

He smirked, leaning into your palm. “I guess we'll have to find out. C’mon, let’s get you home.” He helped you to your feet, your knees a little wobbly, collected your things, and led you back out to the Floo Station.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You asked, taking your things from his arms.

“For a bit, but I leave tomorrow afternoon for Cairo, remember?” He looked genuinely apologetic for having to leave, and your heart deflated a bit, disappointed that you wouldn’t see him for a week, maybe more.

“Right, Cairo,” you said, trying to hide how you felt.

“Hey.” He reached out to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. “If it wasn’t so dangerous, I’d take you with me. But I can’t risk something happening to you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Plus I need a capable curse-breaker to manage things here.”

“I know, I know,” you sighed, nosing into his neck and breathing him in.

He held you quietly for another moment, his hand trailing up and down your spine before you finally pulled back, yawning.

“Go on, I’ll see you in the morning.” He caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Goodnight, love.”

You stepped into the station and grabbed a handful of the floo powder. “G’night,” you said with a sleepy smile, and cast the spell to transport you home.

Though, you realized with a nervous pang, it felt like you were doing the opposite.

Thank you so much for reading!

Comment if you'd like to be included in the taglist for the next part <3

taglist: @itisjustwhatitis, @carmenschemtrails, @karina-v20, @acourtofexiles, @meteora-fc, @l1nd3n, @just-some-random-blogger

[smuttyazrael]

Wolfy problem Part 2

Word count: 2,095

Summary: Bill gets turned into a werewolf. Wolves need breastmilk to live. They thrive under thier special breastmilk. Y/N volunteers to be his wet nurse.

Warnings: Masturbation, Oral, Sexual intercourse, Fingering, Cum kink, Lactation kink, breeding kink, Voyeurism, Exibitionism, Public.

Heading to Bills house was actually a lot of fun. He lives in a cottage by the sea. It's absolutely beautiful. He gave you a quick tour and you sucked him off before you guys went to sleep for the night.

The next morning, the sun rises waking me up. The whole room lite up by the sun. You're curled up into his side. You see the blanket tented again and slip under it.

You take him in your hand caressing him admiring his size. You give it a lick up the shaft. A bead of precum wells at the top of his slit and you lick it off. Moaning at the taste. You ingulf his head in your mouth.

You feel his fingers thread through your hair. "Fuck babygirl, wake me up like this every morning." He moans out as he thrusts himself deeper. "Gonna cum lots for you." He tells you as you feel it spurt out his shaft onto you tongue, the salty taste exploding. You moan at the taste. His spurts taper off and you lick off his cock making sure to get every drop. "Good girl. Cleaning my cock up. You got milk to feed me? I'm really hungry" you pop up from under the blankets.

"Maybe, I was told to take three loads before I started producing." You tell him.

"Lets try then" he says latching on to your tit. Massaging it as he gulps down your milk. You start rubbing you pussy on his thigh. Moaning as you clit brushes againt his thick muscluar thigh with every thrust. His eyes are closed with a peaceful look as he continuously glups down your milk. His cock twitching with every pull his mouth makes on you tit.

"Bill!" You cry out cumming on his thigh soaking it in you slick. His cock leaking precum. His head turning purple. Bill switches tits. You gasp on to his fuck stick. Jerking it as he trusts into your fist. Groaning around your nipple. Before long hes letting out a moan and ropes of cum cover his chest. He unlatches from you tit.

"Your letting my percious cream go to waste, baby. You better be cleaning that up." He tells you his eyes filled with lust and a smirk on his face. You go down licking off his chest. Moaning constantly at the taste as he praises you. "Your milk is the best thing I've ever tasted. I am so happy I get to drink this my whole life,"

"You do like it?" You ask shyly coming up to face him after finishing licking up his cum.

"I love it. I will drink it as much as I can. I will fill your belly with so much cum just so I have to drink from you more." He promises. You two getting up. He walks around the cottage his hard cock swaying around as he moves with confidence. You follow him a little more shy.

"I have to go to work today. Do you have class?" He asks you as he makes you two breakfast.

"No, not today. I have the rest of the week off." You whisper wishing you had his cofindence.

"Okay, you will come to gringotts with me today. Then tonight we have an order meeting."

"Okay, I can bring some homework to do." You offer.

"You won't need that. I'm gonna keep your mouth full of cum all day. I need your tits leaking and achy for me." He tells you plating the food for you. You blush.

You both eat up and hurry getting ready for Bills work. But not before Bill gets another two loads down your throat and pins you against the wall giving you a screaming orgasm. You both arrive at Gringotts late with Bills cock still throbbing.

"Fuck, I have a meeting. Come on." He drags you to a board room. He sits down in the middle of the table. "Come suck my cock. I can't concentrate with it leaking so much prefuck. I need your mouth like a good girl." He tells you.

You feel your panties get wet. You kneel under the table taking his cock in your mouth sucking it. You get drstracted by the massive meat stick in front of you. Enjoying the wieght on your tongue and how it is pouring precum. Bill has his finger laced you your hair. All of a sudden you hear Bill speak.

"The... fuck.... vase.... is .... *groan*...def-*moan*-initely.... cursed." He struggles out. "We... fuck me.... need to.... fuuuuuck" his cum splashing the back of your throat him panting loadly. All eyes are on him as he just leans back in his chair blissed out. "We need to remove each curse layer by layer." He finally gets out.

"Alright, curse breaker Weasley says thats what we need to do. Thats what we will do." A man says clapping his hands. Everyone leaves but the man and Bill.

Bills cock is hard again and hes thrusting it into your mouth.

"How is everything going, Bill? I heard about the bite." The man says clapping Bill on the shoulder.

"It's going actually reather well, Howard. Y/N a friend of my little bothers stepped up to be my wet nurse." Bill says in between thrusts and moans.

"I can see. You gonna marry her man?" Howard asks peeking under the table to get a quick look at you.

"Marry her. Knock her up with my pups. I'm gonna do it all. Fuck... baby girl here it comes." He says with a groan cumming again. "I can't wait till shes round with my pups." He says to Howard blissed out and panting.

"Sounds like the best thing that could have happened. I'll talk to you later man. Gonna find me wife and see if she is willing to suck me off under my desk." Howard says clapping his shoulder again and leaving the room. Bill pulls you up onto his lap and gives you a kiss.

"Your perfect, baby girl." He says pulling your top down. Latching on and suckling. You moan thrusting on his thigh again. "Thats it Y/N take your pleasure from me. Only I will give it to you." He mumbles around your boob. You moan out cumming soaking your panties completely. He unlatches pulling your top up. He stands you up lifting your skirt and pulling down your panties. He taps your leg to get you to step out of them. You do. "I'm gonna keep these." He says standing tucking them into his pocket. He walks to his desk and puts a pillow on the floor under it.

"What will I wear?" You ask confused.

"Your slick on your thighs, sweet girl. I want everyone to know how good I make you feel. If your good before the order meeting Ill pump you full of my baby juice and I can watch it drip out of you all meeting." He says as his cock throbbs again. He helps you get under his desk and gets to work.

You suck his cock all day. Surprisingly your jaw not hurting. Maybe his cum has something to do with it. By the end of the day you have sucked down so much cum you've lost count how many loads. Your tits and aching and leaking. Your top is soaked in milk, but you didn't say anything not wanting to bother his workflow. He stands you up seeing tears in your eyes about how sore your boobs are.

"Baby girl, whats the matter?" He asks wiping your tears with his thumbs.

"My tits." You whine pitifully. He looks down.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He asks pulling your top down latching on immediately. He gulps down as much as fast as he can. Sitting you down on his lap. Your tits feeling better almost right away.

"I didn't want to bother you." You mumble to him.

"Never is sucking your beautiful tits a bother." He says switching to the other. He gulps the milk down quickly. "We gotta go. We are late for the order meeting."

He drags you after covering your tits with your top again. Not that it covers much because its all wet. You both floo to the burrow. He sits down at the table. Pulling out his cock and pulls you to sit on it.

You look up noticing Hermione shifting around in her seat.

"Need a nice big cock to fill you too." Charlie asks her. She blushes.

"No, just feeling funny." Hermione says. Bill and you watch with interest.

"Well, I have just the thing. Come here you can sit on my lap. I'll make it better." Charlie coaxes. Finally after a while Hermione gets up to walk around the table. Charlie quickly pushes down his sweats under his balls. His cock hitting his abs with a quiet thwack. You can see his sweats have a round dot of pre cum. Hermione blushes seeing his cock when she gets beside him. "Don't worry about him. He will make you feel better." He says to Hermione with a smile.

"Will it fit?" She asks curiously.

"Y/N can fit Bills which is bigger and she is smaller then you. It will fit." Charlie says lifting her on to it. They both moan as it fills her. Bill starts thrusting into you cumming with a moan.

"That was so hot Charlie." He moans out cumming.

"Yeah, having best friends with our cocks in thier pussys. Maybe you should bite me on the full moon and Hermione here will be my wet nurse." Charlie says pulling her against his chest. Hermione blushes looking down.

Harry and Ron both walk in. Harry looks at you and Hermione sitting on Bill and Charlies lap in shock. Ron just turns red in anger. Bill ignoring them both thrusting into you. Charlie is doing baby thrusts into Hermione.

"Bill, Charlie, do you really need to be doing that at a meeting?" Molly asks them.

"Bill gets his cock in Y/Ns pussy. And Hermione was feeling empty. I'm only happy to help her out." Charlie says with a smirk thrusting hard into Hermione causing her to moan out loud. "Thats a good girl." Charlie praises and Hermione moans loudly. You get wetter watching and listening. "You like when I praise you. You gush so much." Charlie says to her.

"So does Y/N. She will turn into a fountain when I praise her and she apparently likes it when you praise Hermione." Bill tells Charlie while still thrusting into you.

"Okay, Bill why are you doing this with Y/N at the table?" Molly says a little taken aback.

"Need to fill her with my pups before the final battle. I don't want her fighting. And if shes either carrying my pups or just given birth she can't fight." Bill says like its the most obvious thing in the world. You cum hard on his cock squeezing the cum out of it. "Uhh Y/N you like the idea of being full with my pups." Bill groans spurts coating your womb.

"Fuck!" You hear Charlie yell cumming in Hermione. "Your best friend being round with my brothers babies turn you on. You want a baby with her." Charlie says cumming in Hermione as she screams his name cumming on him.

The meeting goes on with everyone ignoring Charlie, Hermione, Bill and yourself. You four cumming throughout the meeting. Them understanding that the only way you and Hermione would step out of the fight is if you two are pregnant. You both are too cock drunk to fight it.

You stand up after the meeting. Getting off of Bills cock. His cum spits out of you falling to the ground with a splat. "Hey, I worked hard to put that in you." He teases. Him and Charlie hug while you and Hermione both stand there with a far away look. "You better sleep with her on your cock tonight of she might crash." Bill tells Charlie.

"Your right. I will deal with her come down in the morning" he says.

Bill and you both leave for the cottage. Bill strips you as soon as he walks in and then strips himself. Leaving both your clothes at the door. He pulls you into the kitchen and heats up some food. He them pulls you on to his lap, latching on to you tit suckling while he feeds you. Before long, you both head to bed. He places you on top of him and falls asleep suckling

[wisteria-blooms]

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader)

PAIRING: CHARLIE WEASLEY//YOU

PLATONIC: Fred Weasley/You, George Weasley/You, Bill Weasley/You (if you squint) Interested in Bill Weasley instead?

And I could see you being my addiction/You can see me as a secret mission

Summary:

After witnessing your cousin's beautiful and picturesque wedding on the shores of Nice, France, you return home with some sort of nuptial fever. And you aren't even afflicted by the worst of it. Your mother, Narcissa Malfoy, is consumed by the thought of you walking down the aisle. Your father, Lucius Malfoy, is no different (albeit less gentle).

Getting your parents off your back proves no easy task, and in typical (Y/N) Malfoy fashion, you get yourself in a predicament with your smart mouth. Now, you have to find a boyfriend in two weeks. With slim pickings, and a first-choice in Bill Weasley out of commission, his younger brother, Charlie Weasley falls into your lap. Almost. Literally.

Will this task of fooling your parents be as easy as it written on Romanian parchment, or will Charlie's hot and heavy demeanour ruin everything - you included?

A/N: Someone asked for more Charlie Weasley love and I had to answer to it. As you can see, I am easily persuaded. If you haven't read long hair & tattoos (Bill's version of this trope), please do. I imagine Charlie to be more flirty, forward, physical and way more devious early on, so here's hoping it'll manifest in this series. I hope you'll enjoy the callbacks to long hair & tattoos, and the subtle references!

Tags: romance, faking dating, no-Voldemort-AU (the Malfoys are still awful though).

Warnings: slight age gap, sexual innuendos, tropes galore, nudity, pureblood politics, smut, sex or descriptors of sex (indicated by *) minors DNI!

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

23, still crazy (updated September 8, 2023)

faster we're falling (updated September 19, 2023)

in too deep (updated October 5, 2023)

boys in the blue (updated October 25, 2023)

electric politics (updated November 1, 2023)

partners in crime (updated November 29, 2023)

partners in contract (updated December 31, 2023)

tea time (you’re so vain) (updated February 9, 2024)

the passenger seat* (updated March 22, 2024)

you don't own me (updated April 03, 2024)

winter wonderland (updated May 31, 2024)

mister & missus (weasley) (updated December 02, 2024)

white christmas

the loneliest hour

the best of me

[cherry-pop-elf]

What Kissing The Weasley Siblings Feels Like

Warnings: Fluff, Sensual, a little risky, no smut, graphic descriptions of lips and smoochies. 16+? Think that works

Writing Commissions Open

William ‘Bill’

Given half his face is missing he doesn’t really like giving kisses. It’s awkward, and strange. To only have half your mouth. How his lips are never able to be soft, or how there is so much teeth. Despite it, you would always kiss the corner of his mouth. He deserved to be kissed, and that is simply that. You find a way, and doing so warms his soul. One day, he finally gets brave enough to return a kiss. It’s awkward, it’s strange, but his intent is all that matters. He was horribly anxious, but followed through. Besides. A little tongue makes it more fun anyway. Whenever the full moon gets closer, you expect getting nothing but tongue and teeth anyway. What’s some more?

Charlie

Warm. They are always so warm, and chapped from the heat. He works with dragons all day, and you can always taste the ash on his breath. He’s a passionate man. He is so intense. Every kiss is like being swallowed whole by the embers of the very dragons he has tamed. He’s so passionate. A man that would lift you off your feet, and have you arched in his strong hands. As if he is trying to consume you, and lick your skin like an angry fire. He is a man that knows what he wants. What he wants is to make sure you know he loves you. He wants you so very bad

Percy

He’s always been quite the prim and proper type. His kisses tend to be quick, short, and almost sharp. Like a peck to the cheek. He has just always had trouble showing affection, but you knew that when you signed up with him. So it wasn’t like he manipulated you into thinking one thing over the other. Regardless, he does try. When his lips do find yours, they are nice. His lips are honestly softer than you expect. He always did take good care of himself after all. They never last to long, but you enjoy them while you can. He’s stepping out of his comfort zone, and you are proud of him for doing such. That’s what matters, after all. You’ll get more. You know you will.

Fred

He’s an intense fella. He likes to plaster you in little kisses, before becoming a living cartoon and dipping you into a passionate embrace. He loves to use kisses to fluster your soul, and be playful in soaking you in little ones. You swear every time you meet he makes sure to leave a kiss on you somewhere. His lips are warm, and a bit chapped. He works with fire works all day, kinda a given. Always the taste of ash on his tongue, but you are fine with it. You just adore how he’s always excited to give you kisses. Each other so alive. He’s just in love. What can he say?

George

Similar to his twin, but still his own person entirely. He’s a bit more emotional. He likes to let kiss be a bit gentler, and lets them last longer. He would trail soft kisses from your cheek, ghost your lips, and go to the next cheek. Then slap a long passionate one, right on your lips. He likes showing his emotions through his lips. Short kisses of excitement, long kisses of need, ghosting to tease. He loves to make use of his mouth, what can he say? He does more than talk your ear off about his latest invention. Mans knows how to work those lips to his advantage. In all the right places.

Ron

He’s an awkward guy. His kisses are either shy, or way too much mouth. You kinda have to teach him. As if either of you complain. He’s just a little dork. YOUR dork. Once he gets his footing, he’s enjoying himself. He still uses more mouth than lips, but you’ve grown to rather love it. How he’s just starving to have you. Even if you were gone just a few minutes. How he utterly craves your touch. It’s addictive. You’ve grown to adore those sloppy kisses he has to offer. They are HIS kisses after all. It makes him all the more special. He’s your dorky guy. All yours, and all his kisses belong to you. So hungry, and devouring.

Ginny

She’s a professional Quidditch player. Do not expect her lips not to be cracked, bloody, dry, what have you. Doesn’t mean her kisses are any less adored. She’s one for quick pecks, as she’s always running off somewhere to do something. You are in love with a Jock. A Weasley Jock no less. Regardless, she knows how to kiss. She knows that sometimes you deserve longer smooches. She does, however, enjoy cheek kisses. She loves giving cheek kisses. Platonic, romantic, she’s a cheek kisser. She will hug you tight, and plant multiple cheek kisses all over you, when she’s really excited. She’s the child of six older brothers. She’s a bit aggressive, but that’s what made you fall in love with her. Ain’t that right?

[wisssp]

here's the stitch- you're in the burrow, taking a nice bubble bath. George is sitting by your feet, trying to pick a shade of green for your toenails while Fred is half way through painting the nails on your right hand red. Bill comes in with a tray of snacks but abruptly stops when he sees the twins pampering you.

"well what in the bloody fuck is all this?" he stands with the tray in his hands, slightly amused at the scene before him. you hear Charlie start to laugh from the hallway.

"you boys are fucked, let me tell you." Charlie peeks his head through the doorway to make sure what he's seeing is, in fact, reality. you glance at Bill, who's trying not to laugh and then back at Charlie.

"so is she going to paint your nails next?" he continues poking at the twins and you've had enough. you sigh and pull your feet back into the soapy water. you slowly stand up, the water and bubbles slipping off of your body. the four men have completely stopped what they were doing to give you all of their attention as you cross your arms and poke your hip out.

"now what's so funny, Charlie?" his mouth is agape and his eyes are dark, almost too stunned to speak. you turn towards Bill, who is now bright red.

"maybe Bill can tell me?" you patiently wait for one of them to do something when Bill seems to snap out of it. he shakes his head and places the snack tray on the bathroom counter. he starts to chuckle under his breath as he's making his way to the door. he shuts it and twists the knob, locking you all in. he turns back around to face you with a sinister smirk painting his features.

"what's funny is that you're going to need another bath after we're done with you."

[littlegreenteacup]

Library - some of my favorites

I didn’t write any of these, but you should definitely read them anyway

Bill Weasley

Burrow Bound | by @charmed-quill

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Epilogue -

Long Hair & Tattoos | by @wisteria-blooms

LH&T Masterlist

Honestly anything by wisteria-blooms is worth the read

Willow | by @refiwrites

Slow Dancing In a Burning Room | by @captainsophiestark

Eyes | by @captainlunaxmen

Charlie Weasley

Sunburns and Dragons | by @wisteria-blooms

SB&D Masterlist

Lost Without You | by @raven-dor

Chemicals | by @dragonologist-in-the-making

Ominis Gaunt

Betraying the Devil You Know | by @wedonthaveawhile

BTDYK Masterlist | mind the tags on this one

Benedict Bridgerton

When the World Is Free | by @fayes-fics

WTWIF Masterlist

Edmund Pevensie

Making Up For Lost Time | by @pink-princess-pussy-pop

I’ll add more as I find more favorites, but so far these have been the ones that I’ve either re-read, sent to friends or that made me fall for a character that I don’t normally like.

Happy reading,

Elinor