#George Weasley x F!reader

[immobulusmalfoy]

From Molly, With Love // George Weasley x F!Reader

Summary: Molly picks her family, no matter who they are, through the sweaters she makes. She's already picked George's SO, you! Warnings: Incredible amounts of fluff, like tooth-rotting. And Percy. A/N: Not sure why it's Christmas all the time in my fics. Just go with it. __________________________________________

Christmas morning was always a conundrum. Especially with the twins involved. I’d planned to sleep without setting an alarm, but I hadn’t expressed that to my two best friends and that had been my big mistake.

“Wake up, sleepy head!” they chorused, jumping on the bed.

I groaned, cracking open an eye to see both boys nearly on top of me, effectively pinning me beneath my blankets.

“Happy Christmas!” they shouted.

“Shhhh. ‘S too early. How’d you get in here this time?”

“That’s for us to know,” Fred started, “and you to find out.” George finished with a grin.

“Alright then, Happy Christmas to you lot, as well.”

I finally opened your eyes completely and sat up, trying to tame my hair and wipe my eyes from sleep. The twins had settled down at the end of my bed and were currently weighing the pile of presents they’d discovered there, attempting to figure out what was in each one. A lumpy one near the bottom was definitely one from Mrs. Weasley, but I knew I had a few from my parents as well as something from the twins.

They didn’t even allow me to get dressed or do anything else before they shoved the small pile of parcels in my lap and stared excitedly. I narrowed my eyes at them, daring them to have done anything remotely prank-related to my things. They looked the picture of innocence, though, in their blue sweaters knitted by their mum.

I opened my parents’ gifts first, the first being three muggle books I’d asked for and the second being a custom-made holster for my wand since my pockets never seemed big enough to hold it. I had a new set of quills from my aunt and uncle in France, too. Then I opened the one Molly had sent me, discovering a lovely emerald sweater with my first initial on it. I ran my hands lovingly over the yarn. Last year I’d gotten a pretty blue one, but I was happier with this green one. Beneath the sweater was a package of homemade fudge that I knew was going to be hidden for a later date. And finally, the twins had gotten me a whole package of my favorite candies and some sachets of tea.

I thanked them both and hugged them, then tugged on my sweater over my pajamas. I’d barely had a chance to run to the bathroom before the boys were dragging me over to the boys dorms to harass their brothers, both Percy and Ron.

“Merry Christmas!” George shouted.

“Hey look—Harry’s got a Weasley sweater, too!” Fred called attention to the sweater Harry had in his possession, one that was the exact same color as my own sweater. I smiled at the boy who looked up at me a bit shyly as Fred snatched the sweater out of his hands.

“Harry’s is better than ours, though.” Fred observed. “She obviously makes more of an effort if you’re not family.” He looked pointedly over at me, but I just shrugged.

I’d met Molly at the end of our first year when the twins and I got off the train. My parents hadn’t been there to meet me at the station, so Molly offered to wait until they got there. I’d felt horrible since they hadn’t shown up for another hour, but Molly and her husband and the boys had all made me feel like I hadn’t been a burden at all and I’d so appreciated it.

To this day, Molly sent me letters every once and awhile to check in, even more than my own parents and I loved the fact that she’d taken the time to knit me a sweater for the last three years. It made me feel special.

“Why aren’t you wearing yours, Ron?” George demanded. “Come on, get it on, they’re lovely and warm.”

I knew George was just trying to get a rise out of Ron, but I did feel bad that Ron didn’t like the sweaters his mum made. I knew he would be more upset if we kept pushing, but George didn’t let up and chucked the sweater at Ron’s head.

“I hate maroon,” the boy moaned, but he did put the sweater on and I beamed at him.

“You haven’t got a letter on yours,” George observed once the sweater was safely donned by Ron. “I suppose she thinks you don’t forget your name. But we’re not stupid—we know we’re called Gred and Forge.” George grinned, his eyes twinkling as he winked at me. I snorted.

“What’s all this noise?” A voice broke through the din we were making and I sighed, knowing exactly who was coming to spoil all the fun. Percy. It’s not that I didn’t like the third eldest Weasley, but he was usually a stick in the mud and he found great joy in ruining our fun.

He’d stuck his head through Ron and Harry’s dorm room door, looking disapproving. It took all that was in me not to laugh at his disheveled curly hair and his smudged glasses. He looked like he’d just gotten up, something I usually didn’t see from “Mr. Perfect Prefect Percy.” Percy was carrying a knitted sweater too and I brightened immediately once I noticed it. I was curious what color he’d get and I was surprised to see that it was a gold color with a maroon ‘P’ sewn in, but it did match his prefect’s badge.

“P is for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on. We’re all wearing ours. Even Harry got one.” Fred said impatiently as he snatched Percy’s sweater from his arms and allowed George to take the other side, forcing it over Percy’s head while he protested.

After they’d shoved it over his head and trapped his arms in the body part since they hadn’t allowed him to get his arms in, I did laugh because he just looked so funny. His glasses were knocked sideways and his hair was even more of a mess.

“And you’re not sitting with the prefects today, either,” said George. “Christmas is a time for family.”

And then we marched Percy into the Great Hall where we all sat at the table and consumed as much food as we were able, the Christmas feast making me feel like I wouldn’t be able to eat anything else for a week with how much I’d eaten. Fred and George kept swapping sweets on their plates and dumping extra peas in my mashed potatoes, but I couldn’t even be angry at them.

Three years later, Molly was still making all of us sweaters and other knitted things and I happily donned a maroon sweater the same shade as Ron’s usual one, my first initial on it in gold again. It was perfectly comfortable and I mooned over it to George as we sat on one of the couches in the common room.

With the Triwizard cup happening this year, mine and the twins’ sixth year, we’d all decided to stay at the castle for Christmas yet again. As much as I loved celebrating Christmas with my family, there was something special about celebrating it at Hogwarts with my friends.

George was sitting back on the couch while I laid my head on his legs, a book over my stomach that I’d honestly forgotten.

“Are you nervous about tonight?” George asked as he brushed a piece of my hair off my forehead. I looked up into his deep eyes and smiled.

“No, I’m not nervous. Are you?” I asked.

George had asked me to the Yule Ball that was happening tonight and I was thrilled. Though I wasn’t sure how George was feeling about it.

“I’m more nervous that I’ll break your foot by stepping on it.” George laughed, poking me in the side. I squirmed away from his touch, slapping his hands away as he continued his ticklish assault.

“I’ll wear bigger shoes to account for the swelling then, shall I?” I teased, causing him to turn a pink color. “Anyway, I did promise Angelina that I’d get ready with her and Katie, so I probably should be off.”

“You, worrying about appearances?” George gasped, “What has the world come to?”

“Hush, you. I’ve got to make sure you don’t outshine me all the time.”

I flashed him another grin and rolled off the couch to head up to the sixth year girls’ room where Angie and Katie were already arguing over makeup colors and whether or not their dates would really care. Considering that Angie was going with Fred, I remarked that he would care. Despite the boys not appearing like they care about things like that, I happened to know that Fred wanted to put on a show at the ball. And Katie was going as “friends” with Cormac McLaggen, a wizard I happened to hate for his bad attitude and pompous behavior.

“Hey!” Angelina protested as I disappeared into our shared bathroom.

“Yes?” I asked, popping my head back into our room. I was sure the others would be there soon and I wanted to get a shower before going through the hassle of hair and makeup, even though Katie had already offered to fix up my hair for me.

“Are you going to have enough time to get ready? You haven’t even started and the ball starts at eight.”

“I’ve got three hours. That should be more than enough time.” I said, and I was right. It didn’t take me more than two to take a shower, change into my dress robes which happened to be maroon just like my sweater, and have Katie do my hair in some elaborate braided crown around my head. Once I’d finished my makeup and donned some gold jewelry, I snagged my cape and headed downstairs before the other girls even thought of it.

And there George was at the bottom of the stairs, lounging on one of the couches beside Fred and Lee Jordan. He looked fantastic in his dress robes and I smiled once he looked up and saw me.

“Blimey, you look gorgeous.” George said as he stood up and met me at the bottom of the steps.

“What, this old thing?” I teased him, “Just something I had lying around waiting for a special occasion. You look spiffy!”

George flushed again and brought me over to the couch. I collapsed between him and Fred, bringing my arms around the two of them.

“Look at my boys! Aren’t they beautiful?” I gushed to Lee, and he laughed at the twins’ expressions, knowing I was giving them grief for no reason besides the fact that it was fun. I smacked kisses to both of their cheeks, Fred wiping it off immediately with a halfway-disgusted look.

“Get off, you big lump.” Fred snorted good-naturedly. “Angie coming down soon?”

“Hold your horses, mister. She’ll come down when she’s good and ready. You reckon Ron figured out who Hermione’s date is yet?” I asked once I noticed the younger girl coming downstairs in her blue dress robes. She’d shown them to me a few weeks ago when she’d gotten them and I had to admit that they looked better on her than I thought, and I’d known she would be gorgeous in them.

“I bet you a galleon he throws a massive fit once he sees.” Fred remarked as Hermione escaped through the portrait hole with a wave back towards us.

“You’re on.” Lee grinned, twiddling his wand between his fingers. The more he did it, the more sparks flew from the end of it and I instinctively turned farther into George to make sure they didn’t fall on my dress. He wrapped an arm around me and tucked me into his chest, causing my heart to start beating a little more erratically. His laugh felt like a rumble underneath me and I hoped he couldn’t feel the change in my heartbeat.

I didn’t know when it had started, really. One day I was with the twins and I realized that, as much as I love them together, I had a major soft spot for George. I’d pretty quickly figured out how to tell them apart when we were younger and the more time I’d spent with them that first year had ensured I never got them confused, so I knew my feelings for George were genuine. He was just so sweet and passionate about his interests, and I realized very soon that my crush was maybe more than a crush. Well, definitely more than a crush. I was pretty sure I’d fallen in love with him. But I didn’t know how George felt.

Sometimes I fancied that I caught him looking at me with a different expression, one that screamed “I like you,” but then I second-guessed myself and told myself it was only a look that a friend would give. But I wanted to know how he felt more than anything, even just so I could move on if he would never feel the same. But, oh, how I wish he did feel the same way.

And then he’d asked me to the Yule Ball, confusing me even more. Fred had asked Angie because he liked her, a fact he’d admitted one night after a few too many spiked butterbeers. I knew Ron had tried asking Hermione, but he hadn’t listened to my advice and he’d asked too late when she’d already gotten another date. I knew Ron hadn’t noticed, but it was pretty clear to quite a few of us that Ron and Hermione had it bad for each other and were completely oblivious to the other’s feelings on the matter. I was sure it was going to blow up in their faces tonight and had put a galleon on it.

Most of the other people I knew who were going were either going strictly as friends or in the relationship mindset, but George had never specified what exactly we were doing. Fred had called out to Angie one night while studying in the common room, asking her to go. I hadn’t been asked yet and I’d voiced how nice it was that Fred was getting a move-on by asking her to go. But then the next day, George had handed me a library book I’d been searching for and promptly pulled me aside and asked me to go to the ball with him. It was quiet and simple and I’d loved him even more for it.

Deep down, I’d been hoping he’d ask me and I’d been thrilled that he had. But his face was saying something totally different and it scared me. I didn’t want to be his pity date, but I’d rather be his date than worry about going to the ball alone.

George broke me from my thoughts by rubbing his thumb over my shoulder and causing goosebumps to form where he’d touched my bare skin. I shivered and looked into his face.

“You ready to head down to the hall?” he asked.

“I don’t mind waiting if you want to go down together.” I murmured, bringing my hand up to still his on my shoulder. He froze at my touch. “But we can go down now if you want to.”

“Let’s go down and scope out the place.” George smiled, getting up and helping me to my feet. “Lads, we’re going to scope out the place. I’m starving, so we’re gonna scheme our ways into getting snacks.”

“Why don’t you just sneak into the kitchens?” Lee asked, looking up at us. I snorted, because way to go Lee for using his brain.

“That’s brilliant. Let’s do that.” I dragged George along for the ride as we made our way to the portrait that would let us into the kitchens. George did the honors of tickling the pear and then we were in the kitchens faster than you could say ‘charm.’

The room was full of amazing treats and the house elves smiled at us as I waved at them. They knew who we were and I’d chatted with loads of them since the twins and I figured out how to get in here. Sometimes I wondered if the twins missed the magic map we’d pilfered from Filch’s office as much as I did on occasion. It was such a wonderful piece of magic, though I was glad Harry seemed to be putting it to good use now since we’d given it to him last year.

Armed with snacks that we carried in our hands for easy access, we exited the kitchens and made our way to the Great Hall, which had been transformed like never before for the ball. McGonagall gave George and I a surly look once she saw what we were carrying, but she didn’t say a word to us about it. I was sure she had more important things to worry about than us stealing snacks from the kitchens, especially since this event wasn’t just for us, but also for the two wizarding schools whose students were currently staying with us.

I spotted Hermione with her date, grinning away as they moved towards the table where they’d be sitting with the other Triwizard Cup champions. It was no surprise that we had assigned seats and I thanked my lucky stars that George and I would be sharing the table with most of the other Gryffindor sixth years.

“Is Hermione here with Krum?” I heard Katie ask, and I was startled since I hadn't even heard her come up behind me. I nodded and she smiled, “Good for her! I wish he was my date.” She tossed a grumpy look at McLaggen who was looking even oilier than usual. To his credit, he pretended not to hear her and instead said hello to George and a few of the other people milling about.

George and I took our seats and watched as other witches and wizards from all three schools entered the room, their reactions the same as ours as they surveyed the room in all its splendor. It was wonderful charm work to convert the room this spectacularly.

I absolutely loved sitting at the table, hearing all the conversations going on around us and admiring everyone’s outfits. George sat as close to me as acceptably allowed, but I didn’t mind it because I’d made up my mind.

At the end of the night, once the dancing was done and we’d eaten as much as we wanted, I was going to tell George how I felt. The thought almost made me sick, but I knew I had to do it. I had to. Otherwise, the feeling was going to eat me alive and I couldn’t keep it a secret anymore, even if he rejected me. At least I’d still have him as a friend, I hoped.

As the night dragged on, especially after Harry’s disastrous dance with one of the Patil sisters, I grew tired. Only George noticed. We’d been out on the dance floor for hours, only taking breaks to down lemonade and pumpkin juice and some sort of punch the house elves had created. I’d probably eaten at least five mince pies and George was well on his way to eating the whole table full of sweets. But after the Weird Sisters had left and the party started dying down, George pulled me aside.

“Wanna take a walk before we go to bed? I bet the third floor is empty. Well, except for Mrs. Norris who’s probably roaming about looking for students making out.” he laughed in my ear, his arm wrapped around my waist.

I shivered at his touch, but nodded, my grin infectious. George grinned back, grabbing both of our cloaks as he told Fred we were leaving. In between him yelling back and forth with Angie about something, of course.

The third floor was empty, just like George said, and we settled into comfortable silence as we walked down the hallways. The paintings watched us as we went, but I chose to ignore them as I tried to settle my rapid heartbeat. Was now my chance?

My thoughts were interrupted as I felt George settle his hand in mine, our fingers now intertwined between us. I looked up at him to find him already looking down at me.

“You’re really special, y’know that?” George broke the silence. I felt a hot flush extending up my neck as I smiled at him.

“Is that your way of saying you’re happy to have me as your weird best friend?”

“Oh no, that spot is reserved for Lee.” he joked. I slapped his arm softly with my other hand as he laughed at me. “Only kidding, lovey. Promise.”

“Good. Lee has nothing on me.” I sniffed.

But that was my last coherent thought as George yanked on our entwined hands and pulled me right in front of him. And then, most wonderful of all, reached his other hand over to cup the back of my head and kissed me. Kissed me! George was kissing me! I was screaming internally.

The kiss didn’t last long before George broke away to gauge my reaction, his eyes searching my face for any sign of disgust. But how could I be disgusted when the boy I was in love with had just done the one thing I’d been waiting for for over a year?

“George?” I whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Is it silly if I say I love you?”

His eyes widened with surprise before he started grinning uncontrollably.

“Nope! Say it as loudly as you like because, love, I adore you. Godric, I thought you were gonna slap me. I never thought you’d like me too, let alone love me.”

“I could still slap you, but I’d much rather kiss you.” I laughed before leaning up to kiss him again.

“Blimey, mum’s gonna be ecstatic. She loves you.” He whispered, and then he kissed me over and over again until I was nearly drunk with it, the feeling indescribable. But I was happy, oh so happy. And so was he.

[httpvomitello]

Hi! Could I request a George Weasley x Slytherin reader where they've been dating in secret for a while and they decide that it's time to meet eachother families and George invites her to the burrow for the chritsmas holidays but the Weasley are not very welcoming and she kind of gets the fleur treatment (except Fred because he already knew her) and George defends her when they are rude to her? could it also be fluffy and protective Georgie please?

Hello, hello! I hope you like it ~ ♡♡

A Slytherin Christmas at the Burrow *⁠.⁠✧

george weasley x f!reader

The snow was falling gently outside the window of the Hogwarts library as you packed the last of your books into your bag. Christmas was only a few days away, and your mind buzzed with nervous anticipation. This year, instead of spending the holidays with your family in the austere halls of your ancestral manor, you would be going to the Burrow.

George had invited you a few weeks ago, insisting that it was time for you to meet his family. Though you’d been dating in secret for over a year, you hadn’t dared to take that step. But George, ever confident, had assured you that everything would be fine.

“It’s the holidays,” he had said with his lopsided grin that made your heart skip a beat. “How could they be anything but welcoming?”

Now, as you stood on the Burrow’s crooked porch with George at your side, you weren’t so sure.

“Relax,” George murmured, brushing a reassuring hand against your back. “They’re going to love you.”

The door swung open before you could respond, and Mrs. Weasley stood there, beaming at the sight of her son.

“George! You’re finally here!” she cried, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Hi, Mum,” George said, grinning as he returned the hug. “I brought someone I’d like you all to meet.”

Mrs. Weasley’s eyes landed on you, and though her smile didn’t falter, there was a flicker of something in her expression—hesitation, perhaps.

“Oh,” she said, stepping back to let you inside. “You must be Y/N.”

You nodded, offering your hand politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you for having me.”

“Of course,” she said, though her tone was a touch cooler than before.

As you stepped inside, the warm, bustling chaos of the Burrow surrounded you. Fred appeared almost immediately, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“There she is!” he said, pulling you into a quick, friendly hug. “Finally, someone to keep George in line.”

You laughed, some of your tension easing. Fred had known about your relationship for months and had been nothing but supportive.

The rest of the introductions were less smooth. Mr. Weasley was polite but distant, while Ginny’s sharp gaze seemed to size you up in an instant. Ron muttered a curt hello before disappearing upstairs, and even Bill and Charlie, who were visiting for the holidays, exchanged skeptical glances. Only Fred seemed genuinely pleased to see you.

Dinner that night was a tense affair. The Weasleys weren’t outright rude, but the subtle barbs and sideways glances were impossible to miss.

“So, Y/N,” Ginny said, her tone overly sweet as she speared a roast potato. “What’s it like being a Slytherin? Do you all sit around plotting world domination, or is that just a rumor?”

George choked on his pumpkin juice, his eyes narrowing. “Ginny, knock it off.”

“What?” Ginny said innocently. “I’m just curious.”

“Being a Slytherin doesn’t mean I agree with everything my housemates do,” you said evenly, though your heart pounded in your chest.

“Of course not,” Mrs. Weasley said, though her tone suggested otherwise.

George’s hand found yours under the table, squeezing gently in reassurance.

The comments didn’t stop there. Every question seemed designed to remind you that you didn’t belong, from Ginny’s digs about your family’s wealth to Ron’s muttered comments about “stuck-up Slytherins.” Even Percy, who had barely looked up from his book, managed to slip in a pointed remark about ambition.

By the time dessert was served, you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“Excuse me,” you said quietly, standing and slipping out of the room before anyone could stop you.

You found yourself outside in the snow, the cold air biting at your cheeks as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Y/N.” George’s voice was soft as he appeared beside you, his arms wrapping around you without hesitation. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said, though your voice cracked.

“The hell it isn’t,” George said fiercely. “They had no right to treat you like that.”

You looked up at him, tears welling in your eyes. “I just… I thought they might give me a chance. For your sake.”

George’s jaw tightened, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “They’ll come around. And if they don’t, that’s their loss, not yours. You’re incredible, Y/N. Smart, funny, kind—you’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and I’m not going to let anyone make you feel less than that. Not even my family.”

“George—”

“No,” he said firmly. “You’ve put up with enough. Come on.”

Before you could protest, he led you back inside. The chatter at the table died as you entered, all eyes turning to you and George.

“I’ve got something to say,” George announced, his voice ringing through the room. “Y/N is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I won’t stand for anyone treating her poorly. I don’t care that she’s a Slytherin, and neither should you. She’s brilliant and brave and a damn sight kinder than any of you have been tonight.”

“George—” Mrs. Weasley began, but he cut her off.

“No, Mum. You always taught us to treat people with respect, to give them a chance. Well, Y/N deserves that. So, either you accept her, or we’ll be spending Christmas somewhere else.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Finally, Fred cleared his throat. “He’s right, you know. Y/N’s great. You lot just need to get over yourselves.”

One by one, the others began to mumble reluctant apologies, and though it wasn’t perfect, it was a start.

George squeezed your hand as you sat back down, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, so quietly that only you could hear.

And in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his presence, you knew he always would.

[3lle-l-black]

Season of love event @george-weasleys-girl

Girassol (Part 1)

Avisos: Uso de mais de um pronome pro mesmo personagem (usei os pronomes que eu uso sem perceber), não revisado, longa fic, uma pitadinha de angst, os gêmeos usam o apelido Girassol, George x reader platônico

English version + inspirado em Girassol by IVYSON

— Gina, por favor, pode parar de falar disso por um segundo? – Eu paro no meio da escadaria da toca, virando-me para Hermione e Gina que estão atrás de mim.

— Eu só estou dizendo..

— Ok, ideia rápida: pare de dizer

Para vocês que chegaram agora, eu vou explicar a situação. Eu tive a brilhante ideia de namorar um dos irmãos mais velhos de Gina, Fred Weasley. Foram anos incríveis mas depois que eles saíram da escola e abriram a Gemialidades Weasley, a guerra se tornou uma possibilidade real e eu, Hermione e Ron estávamos preocupados em ajudar Harry.

Resumindo, as coisas ficaram mais complicadas, nós ficamos distantes e terminamos. Eu não queria mas não tive coragem de insistir.        Enfim, viramos 'amigos' de novo.

Ontem à noite, eu e Hermione estávamos conversando e eu mencionei que sentia falta dele, das nossas conversas. O problema é que Gina ouviu, o que nos levou a essa situação.

— Eu não quero falar sobre isso, Gina. Vou pedir só mais uma vez. Por favor. – Desço as escadas e vou em direção à sala com as meninas logo atrás de mim.

— Gina, é melhor deixar isso quieto. Pare antes que você escute algo que não quer. – Hermione diz, percebendo minha irritação. Elas se sentam juntas em um sofá, e eu me sento em frente a elas. — Todo mundo consegue ver que meu irmão fez uma escolha idiota, eu só acho que ela poderia ir falar com ele, tentar resolver a situação. – Gina diz, cabisbaixa.

Harry, Ron e Hermione já tinham conseguido dormir, enquanto eu continuei olhando o céu pela janela do quarto por um tempo, o estresse da luta contra os comensais e a preocupação não me deixaram dormir. Eu me levanto devagar, com cautela para não acordar os outros e desço as escadas, talvez eu consiga esvaziar a mente mudando de ambiente e verificando os dois ruivos dormindo na sala.

George havia adormecido no sofá e Fred jamais deixaria o irmão sozinho, então eles dormiram nos sofás. Assim que cheguei no final da escada, percebi que um dos meninos estava acordado.

— Ei – chamei a atenção dele em um tom baixo para não acordar os outros.

— Ei, não conseguiu dormir? – Era George. Ele fez menção de se sentar, mas eu cheguei até o sofá antes.

— Não precisa levantar, você tem que descansar e não, não consegui. – Balanço minha varinha surrando um feitiço para limpar a faixa em volta da cabeça dele. — Ainda dói?

George olha para mim com um sorriso provocador. — Esqueceu quem eu sou mulher? Um arranhão desse não pode me derrubar.

Reviro os olhos e realizo um feitiço de cura para ajudar com o ferimento, coloco minha varinha na mesa de centro e me sento ao dele no chão.

Ficamos conversando assim por algum tempo, talvez mais de uma hora, um George sonolento fazendo piadas mesmo em um momento ruim, eu apoiada no sofá e os dois tentando segurar as risadas para não levarmos bronca da Sra.Weasley.

— Sabe... Sinto muito pela nossa amizade ter ficado estranha, é só que... eu não sei, não sabia como agir depois do término de vocês.

— Tudo bem. Eu entendo, mas senti falta de poder conversar com você. – Nas últimas semanas, sempre que eu e os gêmeos estávamos na mesma sala, um silêncio desconfortável se instalava.

— Também senti sua falta idiota, e sabe... – Vejo George indicar com a cabeça na direção de Fred. — Eu não fui o único.

— Ah, é? Ele te falou isso? – Pergunto cética, desviando o olhar. George se levantou e sentou ao meu lado com um sorriso brincalhão.

— Sim, mas não conte a ele que eu te disse.

— Oh cale a boca, acho que o feitiço alcançou seu cérebro e acabou te deixando mais idiota do que já era. – Sinto meu coração acelerar com o pensamento de Fred admitindo sentir minha falta, sei que George não mentiria sobre isso, mas não importa já que ele não admitiu isso para mim. George estava tentando abafar uma risada quando se encolheu do meu lado e soltou um grunhido de dor.

— O que foi Georgie? – Pego minha varinha e sussurro um “Lumos”, iluminando a sala.

— Hum, foi só uma pontada de dor – Alguns ruídos podem ser ouvidos atrás de nós, George olha por cima da minha cabeça e dá um sorriso amarelo, acompanho o olhar dele e vejo um Fred confuso e recém-acordado. — Oh te acordamos, bela adormecida? – George zomba enquanto Fred se senta no sofá, deixando o cobertor cair no chão e resmunga um confuso "Que horas são?"

— Vocês que estão fazendo barulho? Por que estão acordados a essa hora? – Ele pisca algumas vezes, ainda se acostumando com a claridade na sala. De repente, os olhos de Fred se arregalam, e posso dizer que qualquer vestígio de sono que ele tinha desapareceu. — George está bem? Aconteceu alguma coisa?

— Sim, não se preocupe, eu não consegui dormir então estávamos conversando. Desculpe pelos barulhos – Posso ver Fred relaxando lentamente. Se eu fiquei preocupada quando soube sobre George, nem posso imaginar o que passou pela cabeça dele.

— Tudo bem, eu já dormi o suficiente – Ele se inclina para pegar o cobertor do chão e se cobrir novamente. Dormir, até o momento eu não tinha percebido o quão cansada estava, meus olhos começaram a pesar e a ideia de fechar eles só um pouco não parece ruim. — Daqui a pouco vai amanhecer... O que vocês estavam fazendo? Tipo, vocês estão juntos aqui a quanto tempo?

Um brilho podia ser visto nos olhos de George antes dele responder. — Ah o pequeno girassol aqui estava cuidando de mim, ela é uma ótima doutora. – Ele passou um braço ao meu redor e minha cabeça caiu no ombro dele.

Eu não consegui realmente acompanhar a conversa, aparentemente Fred fechou a cara com o comentário de George. Agora eles estavam se irritando e rindo mais alto do que deviam.

Fred's POV

Um brilho travesso passou pelos olhos de George antes dele soltar, — Ah, o pequeno girassol aqui estava cuidando de mim, ela é uma ótima doutora.

Sem perceber, franzi o cenho assistindo a interação entre eles dois, — Você já é um homem crescido, não consegue se cuidar sozinho não?

George ri e retira o braço que estava em volta dos ombros dela, — Não precisa ficar assim, eu deixo você cuidar de mim também.

Solto um "idiota", incapaz de segurar a risada enquanto ele se levanta devagar e senta no sofá. Meus olhos vagam pela sala e vejo que o “pequeno girassol” está quieto demais, um sorriso ilumina meu rosto quando percebo que ela está dormindo, apoiada no sofá em uma posição um tanto desconfortável.

Me levanto e passo um braço ao redor das suas costas e deslizo o outro por debaixo das pernas, tentando não perturbar o sono tranquilo dela. Com cuidado, eu a ergo nos meus braços e ela se aninha contra mim, descansando o rosto na curva do meu pescoço e soltando a varinha no chão.

Sua respiração suave faz meu próprio fôlego travar por um momento. Congelo no lugar, percebendo agora o quão perto nos estamos. Me movo devagar e coloco ela no lugar que eu estava dormindo antes, assim que tenho certeza que ela está em uma posição confortável, me sento em frente ao sofá sem conseguir tirar os olhos dela.

Ela se mexeu um pouco e sem pensar duas vezes, estiquei a mão para afastar alguns fios de cabelo de cabelo que tinham caído em seu rosto. Como alguém consegue ser tão adorável?

De repente, um grito ecoou atrás de nós, George e eu nos levantamos apressadamente, tentando localizar a origem do som...

[raekensluver]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟺 ˎˊ˗

hiii! since it's getting close to october- that means kinktober season! this is my first ever kinktober event, so don't be too mean to me...stay alert for updates! if you want to be apart of my taglist for this event- reply down below!

ᴏᴠᴇʀᴠɪᴇᴡ ˎˊ˗

- minors dni! for others- please read the warnings and tags before reading- don't like, don't read!

- all fics will be dom!male!character x sub!fem!reader.

- all characters i write for are 18+ and consenting adults!!!

- all posts relating to this years kinktober event will be tagged as 'mara's kinktober '24'

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ ˎˊ˗

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴏɴᴇ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟷.

praise kink | spencer reid x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, creampie, praise kink, porn without plot.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟹.

exhibitionism | theodore nott x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, exhibitionism, degradation, name calling (whore/slut), porn without plot.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟻.

period sex | rafe cameron x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, mentions of period blood, porn without plot.

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴛᴡᴏ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟽.

thigh riding | aaron hotchner x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, thigh riding, praising, porn without plot.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟶𝟿.

piss kink | jj maybank x inexperienced!fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, piss kink, holding/pee desperation, wetting, vaginal sex, teasing/light degradation.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟷.

face sitting | james potter x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, face sitting, oral (f recieving), porn without plot.

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟹.

squirting | patrick zwieg x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, female ejaculation (squirting), name calling (slut), fingering.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟻.

mirror sex | spencer reid x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, mirror sex, vaginal sex, p in v from behind, choking.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟽.

blindfold/sensory deprivation | theodore nott x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, sensory depravation, blindfold use, spit play.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟷𝟿.

dacryphilia | patrick zwieg x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, porn without plot.

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ғᴏᴜʀ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟷.

hand kink | george weasley x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, hand kink, mild exhibitionism, fingering, teasing, dirty talk.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟹.

phone sex | art donaldson x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, phone sex, mutual masturbation, pet names (baby, pretty, good girl), porn without plot.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟻.

body worship | spencer reid x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, body worship, oral (f recieving), porn without plot.

ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ғɪᴠᴇ ˎˊ˗

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟽.

desperation | fred weasley x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, handjob, blowjob, praise kink, porn without plot.

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟸𝟿.

[file not found]

- ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 𝟶𝟹𝟷.

innocence/corruption kink | tashi duncan x art donaldson x fem!reader | contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, fmf threesome, corruption/innocence kink, vaginal sex, creampie, unprotected sex, praise kink, porn without plot.

layout inspo/creds to: gogogodzilla and sytoran

[lovie-bugzz]

train ride ┊fred weasley

pairing - bsf!fred x f!reader (first person pov)

summary - The train compartment had gotten a bit crowded on the way to Hogwarts, so your best friend Fred offered for you to sit in his lap. However, throughout the ride you just couldn't seem to get comfortable...

contains - smut, dom!Fred, swearing, fingering, orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), teasing, hair pulling, rough sex, cum swallowing

word count - 4834

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

The twins and I were laughing about something stupid that George had said as the train left the station. I lightly hit the boy in the arm, "Shut up!" I say between laughter.

After we had calmed down, Fred spoke up, "Let's go meet up with Lee and the girls." He said, referring to Alicia and Angelina. The six of us had been a tight knit group since first year, and it now being our sixth year, it was safe to say that we were all extremely close.

George and I agreed, and so the three of us began our trek down the aisles of the train, looking into each of the compartments. Once we found them, we squeezed into the small room, greeting one another.

As the three of us sat down, it began to be a tad bit cramped, with Lee and Alicia taking up the whole of one side, Fred and I had to squeeze in beside Angelina and George.

I pushed past how uncomfortable I was as Lee started a conversation, asking, "Do any of you have a clue as to what's happening at Hogwarts this year?"

"No! Mum's been going ballistic and nobody will tell us what's going on." George told them, Fred nodding along, "Yeah, it's like all the adults are keeping this giant secret."

The topic continued for about twenty minutes, everyone butting in with their own theories as the what was happening. I couldn't really pay attention as I was severely uncomfortable, being pressed in between Fred's shoulder and the window, my arms were pretty much completely constricted.

Fred glanced over at me, with a crease in his brow, noticing how squashed and uncomfortable I was, he leant down slightly to speak to me, "You alright, love?"

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine, it's just a bit cramped in here." I told him, brushing it off. The boy chuckled lightly, shaking his head, before suddenly he pulled me up by my waist, and placed me in his lap.

I was a bit surprised at first, my eyes going wide for a split second until I let out a small sigh of relief at now finally being able to move my arms. I turned back slightly with a light chuckle and gave him a thankful nod, to which he returned with a cheeky smile.

For a while, everything was fine, I was comfortable and laughing along with the lively conversations in the compartment. But that stopped when I started to squirm a bit, causing Fred to still, letting out a quiet groan, which I didn't quite catch.

I stopped after a moment, finding a comfortable stop on his lap, making the boy let out an inaudible sigh of relief. His attention was brought back to the conversation for a mere minute before I started moving my hips again, finding my spot atop him to be growing more and more uncomfortable the longer I sat here.

One movement I made in particular had my ass digging right into his now hardening bulge. He harshly grabbed my hips, halting my movements which made me jump a bit at the sudden contact.

The boy leaned forward towards my ear, whispering lightly so the others wouldn't hear, "love, if you don't stop that, we're going to have an issue..." He said, his voice had a sudden rasp to it. The unfamiliar tone sent a shiver down my spine, my eyes widening as I realized what I had been doing, and a deep red blush settled on my cheeks.

I was glad the others weren't paying attention to us, they were too encapsulated by their own conversations.

It was an innocent mistake, I was only trying to get comfortable, forgetting that I was literally sitting on top of Fred's dick and squirming around. I turned back slightly, to look at him, as I whispered back, "Do you want me to move?" I asked, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

He rose a brow at me, a smirk on his face, "You moving is the problem, love." He joked, making me roll my eyes at him, the blush on my cheeks deepening further. He spoke again, this time with a more serious note, "I just need you to stop fidgeting so much, okay?"

He moved one of his hands from my waist to my thigh, his hand casually resting on my inner thigh, his touch causing my skin to tingle. I turned back around, "Fine..." I spoke, innocently looking out the window, making sure I didn't move anymore.

I watched the trees and landscape fly past us, but I couldn't keep the thoughts out of my head. Of what would happen if I did move again. It was definitely tempting, I bit my lip as dirty thoughts made their way into my head. But I shook them away just as quickly as they came. What was I doing? Fred is my best friend, I can't be thinking about him like this.

But on the other hand, it was tempting. So, after about another minute or two of contemplation in my head, I decided to test the waters.

Pretending like I had forgotten our prior conversation, I just slightly moved my hips against his. The boy let out a cough, as if clearing his throat, but I knew better. I stifled my smirk, before moving again, this time the tiniest bit harder. He sucked in a breath, glaring at the back of my head.

He knew exactly what I was doing, but he couldn't do anything, no matter how badly he wanted to, not with his brother and friends in the same compartment. So, he subtlety pinched my waist, as a warning, which sort of backfired on him as it only made me squirm more, my ass hitting exactly the right spot to rile him up.

I could feel it, the effect I had on him, how could I not? It was digging into my ass. The boy grit his teeth, leaning up a bit to whisper to me, "You're playing a dangerous game, love..." He spoke lowly, but I only shrugged, feigning innocence, my hips moving hard against him, making him groan as I turned to give him a smug smile, "I don't know what you're on about." I say simply, turning back around and making sure my movements stayed completely still.

Fred chuckled lowly, throwing his head back against the seat, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. He was clearly frustrated that I stopped, and I couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction.

About five minutes had gone by, I was so busy basking in glory that I almost missed how Fred gripped my hips and stood us up.

"We're going to go find the trolley. Do any of you want anything?" Fred spoke, asking the others. I was confused by this, but didn't make any move to protest as I was too focused on how hard the boy behind me was grabbing my hips.

Everyone shared a glance before Lee spoke, "No, we're good."

Fred nodded before moving us forward and pushing us out of the compartment and letting the door slide closed behind us. He loosened his tight grip on my hips, but kept them resting there as he pushed me forward to walk down the corridor.

I had no doubt in my mind that he was keeping me so close in front of him to hide his boner. I let a smug smile wash over my face at the situation, but it was quickly washed off my face as my arm was suddenly being tugged into the bathroom. I gasped as Fred pulled us into the small room, slamming the door shut, locking it and then proceeding to push me flush against it.

I stared up at him with wide eyes as he towered over me, the dark look in his eyes making me squirm against the door. He rested his arms on either side of me, effectively trapping me in place between him and the door. He leaned in close, his nose almost touching mine, his eyes roaming hungrily over my face.

"You didn't think you were actually gonna get away with that did you?" The boy asked. "You think you're so clever, don't you? Playing with fire like that, teasing me in the train compartment with our friends around."

I couldn't answer, my words failing on me as my mouth opened and closed like a blubbering fish.

Fred smirked at my reaction to his intense gaze. He pressed his body more firmly against mine, leaving me no escape. His hands moved from the door to my hips, keeping me in place, his grip tight enough to leave slight indents on my skin from his long fingers. He rose a taunting brow at me, "Cat got your tongue, love? You were quite the little minx a few minutes ago. What happened?"

I was in such a state of shock, not knowing what to say, my cheeks were burning. As soon as he had pulled me into the bathroom all of my confidence went down the drain. The way he was looking down at me hungrily, his lust filled eyes staring into my soul, it made my knees weak.

Fred chuckled low in his throat, noticing the effect he was having on me. His smirk turned into a sly grin, his eyes drinking in the sight of my flushed cheeks and the way my body was practically trembling against his.

"Not so cocky now, are you? Just a few minutes ago you were teasing me to no end, knowing exactly what it would do to me. But now..." He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above my ear, his voice dropping to a low, sultry whisper. "Now you're trembling beneath my touch, and it's driving me mad."

His hot breath fanning over my ear made me let out a shaky breath, I turned my head slightly to look at him. "Fred..." I breathed out, my eyes flickering down to his lips as I bit down on my own. The air in this small bathroom was thick, I felt like I couldn't breathe.

Fred's eyes darkened as he watched my gaze linger on his lips. His gaze zeroed in on my biting down on my own lip, a sight so tempting that it took all his self-control to not attack my mouth in that very moment. He chuckled softly, the sound rough and filled with desire.

"Say my name again." He commanded, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, as he moved his face closer to mine, his breath mingling with mine in the cramped space between us. He smirked, loving the effect he was having on me. He thrived off of it.

I did as he said, breathing out his name once more, "Fred..." I was getting desperate, I needed him to do something.

Fred's eyes darkened with desire as he heard me say his name again, the tone of my voice making his self-control waver even more. He smiled slightly, enjoying the power he held over me in this moment. He knew I wanted him to do something, but he wasn't going to give in that easily. He loved having me at his mercy, the look of want in my eyes making him feel powerful, and making him want me even more.

"You want something, love?" He asked, his voice low and seductive, as he took a piece of my hair and delicately placed it behind my ear.

I nodded, "Mhm." I hummed out, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. My desire for him was clouding my head.

Fred smirked down at me, the look in my eyes fueling his arrogance and ego. He slowly moved a hand from my waist to my chin, his fingers gently gripping it and tilting it up slightly, forcing me to maintain eye contact with him.

"Use your words, love. Tell me what you want, and maybe I'll give it to you." He teased.

"I want..." I trail off, my voice failing on me. I cleared my throat, looking up at him, "I want you to kiss me."

Fred was consumed by desire and need, the moment I uttered those words he couldn't hold back anymore. He practically lunged at me, capturing my lips in a rough and needy kiss, full of pent-up passion and desperation. My arms went to circle around his neck, but before I could, he quickly took hold of my wrists, pinning them above me with one hand, holding them firmly against the door.

I let out a gasp at the action, which he took full advantage of by plunging his tongue into my mouth, exploring every inch of it, tasting me, claiming me as his own. His free hand wandered down my body, tracing every curve and contour, making me moan around his tongue.

Fred swallowed my moan, the sound only adding to his hunger and desire. He was intoxicated by me, my gasps and sighs fueling his need to have all of me. He continued to explore my body with his hand, each touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake.

He broke the kiss, panting slightly, only to attack my neck with his lips and tongue, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive flesh, determined to leave his mark on me.

"Oh, fuck..." I whined as I felt him bite down on my neck, turning my head slightly to give him better access. My arms squirming in his tight hold.

Fred continued his assault on my neck, he released a low growl, his hold on my wrists tightening as he felt me squirm beneath him, clearly enjoying my reaction to his touch. He nipped and sucked, leaving behind a trail of red marks on my neck.

I shivered as he blew cold air over the tender skin, before speaking into my neck, "You're so sensitive."

I couldn't respond, too caught up in the pleasure, but my eyes suddenly widened as I felt his fingers start playing with the waistband of my pants, running against the skin of my lower stomach. I bit my lip in anticipation, and I could feel Fred smirking against my neck when he noticed.

His fingers continued to toy with the waistband of my pants, occasionally slipping beneath it, teasing the sensitive flesh of my stomach, but not going any further than my panty line. I squirmed in his hold, getting impatient.

He broke away from my neck for a moment to look down at me, and the look in his eyes was pure desire and hunger. "You're so pretty like this, love." He whispered, his voice rough with need.

I continued to squirm in his hold, the way he was still holding my arms against the door was maddening. "Please, Fred... Touch me, please." I whined, desperately.

Fred only chuckled evilly, "Why should I, love? You been teasing me all day, testing my patience." He taunted, his fingers continued to toy with the waistband of my pants, occasionally dipping below the fabric, only to slide back out again, teasing me.

"I'm sorry... I won't tease you anymore, just please. I need it." I pleaded, pushing my hips closer to him. The way his fingers were brushing just above where I needed him was making me even more desperate with desire.

His hand moved from my waistband to my hip, gripping it tightly and forcing me back onto the door. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above mine, his words a hot whisper against my mouth. "You're a needy little thing, aren't you? Begging for me like this."

I let out a whimper, nodding at his words as my head rolled against the door. "What do you want, love? Tell me what you need. I want to hear you say it." He said, his voice low and sultry.

"Your fingers. I need them inside of me." I answered, making him chuckle from my blunt response.

"Is that so, hm?" He murmured, his hand trailing away from my hip and moving between my legs to rub me through my pants. I whined at the sensation, finally getting some friction. "You want my fingers, do you? You want me to make you feel good, make you cum?"

I couldn't help but moan from his words, that combined with how he was touching me sent heat over my body. I nodded again, "Yes, please."

"That's a good girl, using your words and asking nicely. I like that." He teased, his fingers moving up to unbutton my pants, pulling them slowly, exposing more of my skin. He began trailing his fingers over the top of my panties, his touch was light and teasing.

He leaned in closer, his lips grazing my ear, as he whispered, "Are you wet for me, love?"

I shivered, nodding my head, "So wet, just for you, Fred." I told him, my arms squirming in his hold once more, I wanted to touch him so badly.

He chuckled darkly at my unsuccessful attempts to break free of his grip, he only tightened his hold on my wrists. He could feel how much I wanted to touch him, but he wasn't done making me a needy mess just yet.

"Is that so?" He whispered, his voice thick with desire, as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of my panties, gently touching my bare skin, feeling just how aroused I was.

My breathing stuttered as his fingers trailed over my wetness, spreading it over my throbbing clit, causing me to moan loudly. Fred smirked in satisfaction at the sound of my moans, he loved how I was reacting to his touch, how he was reducing me to a moaning mess with just his fingers.

"Shhh, love. You're being too loud. You don't want anyone to hear us, do you? I don't think you want everyone to know just how needy you are for me, how desperate you are for my touch." He whispered, continuing to tease me, his fingers rubbing and circling over my bundle of nerves.

I nodded, biting my lip to stop myself from being too loud, but that went down the drain as I felt him slip two fingers inside of me. I practically screamed at the force with which they entered me. "Fuck!"

Fred chuckled as my reaction to his fingers entering me, it was louder than he initially thought, he quickly dropped his hold from my wrists and moved his hand to cover my mouth, effectively muffling my scream into a mewl.

"Shhh, love. You really can't keep quiet, can you?" He teased, his voice thick as he continued pumping his fingers inside me at a fast pace.

I moaned against his hand, my own hands that were finally free gripping onto his wrist that was moving inside of me. My eyes rolling back in my head as I felt him add a third finger, stretching me out.

"Oh, fuck, love. You're fucking swallowing my fingers." Fred groaned out, curling his fingers inside me, hitting that perfect spot that had that familiar coil in my stomach forming.

I was so close, and I knew he could tell by the way I was clenching around his digits. My breathing was coming out ragged, I was panting against his hand as he continued to hit my g-spot over and over again. My orgasm was right there, I was tipping over the edge until suddenly, Fred took his fingers out of me.

I let out a squeal in protest against his hand, but Fred only chuckled at me, as he dropped his hand from my mouth, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Why... Why did you stop?" I panted out, watching as he placed his three fingers that were dripping in my slick in his mouth, sucking me off of them.

He hummed around his fingers, pulling them out of his mouth with a pop, I stared at him in shock as he responded, "Oh, now, love. You didn't think I was going to let you finish just like that, did you? Not after how naughty you've been all day." He teased, a smirk on his lips.

I let out a huff, throwing my head back against the door, frustrated from being denied my release. But my ears perked up as I heard him undoing his belt, making me look back at him.

"Patience, love." He said, undoing his belt and quickly unzipping his pants. "Good things come to those who wait, remember?" He taunted me, slowly letting his pants fall to the ground, and stepping out of them, leaving him in his boxers.

I stared down at the obvious tent, the one that I had created, I bit my lip watching as he paced towards me, pulling me toward him and kissing me hard.

The kiss was more rough and needy than our previous one, we were breathing heavily into it, devouring each other. My hands trailed into his hair, as his trailed down and squeezed my ass, and I moaned as I felt his hard on press against my lower stomach.

In one swift movement he broke the kiss, turning me around and bending me over the sink. He ran his hands over my back, before harshly pulling my underwear down my legs. His hands ran possessively over my hips.

I looked over my shoulder at him, watching as he pushed his boxers down, freeing his length, my eyes widened at the size. "Shit..." I muttered out.

Fred smirked at my reaction, "See something you like, love?" He teased, making my eyes snap up to meet his gaze.

"You're... So big." I spoke, almost cringing at myself, but I couldn't help it. Fred chuckled at my bluntness, he loved how I was so honest and open with my words, not like most girls he'd been with.

"Don't worry, love. I'll make you feel good." He reassured me as his hands stroked my thighs, moving up and down my skin in a soothing motion.

I bit my lip, nodding my head, the way he could be so rough with me one second, and the next be so comforting was making my head dizzy.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" He murmured as his hands slowly moved higher up my thighs, nearing my bare core. I shivered at his words, his touch making me more needy.

He bent down slightly, placing a kiss on my hip before he went back up, spreading my legs a bit more and started lining himself up with my entrance, running his dick through my wet folds, making me whine.

"You ready?" He asked, to which I nodded, but that seemed to not be good enough because Fred gripped my hip tightly, "No. I need a yes." He growled, as I let out a shaky breath.

"Yes..." I responded, making him smirk.

"Good girl." He praised, before slamming into me, instantly bottoming out, making me scream out his name, "Fuck, Fred!"

My hands gripped tightly onto the edges of the sink, the boy behind me panted heavily as he began to relentlessly pound into me, "Oh, fuck. So fucking tight, love." He spoke, his words adding to the amount of pleasure I was in.

The sound of our skin slapping together, our heavy breathing and moans filled the small bathroom, if anyone walked passed the door they would have no doubt about what was going on in here. "Feel good, love?" Fred questioned, but I could only moan in response.

Fred growled at this, his hand roughly latched onto my hair, pulling me flush against his chest, speaking lowly in my ear, "Huh? I asked you a question."

"Yes! Yes, feels so- Fuck- So good!" I stuttered out, my eyes rolling in the back of my head. The way he pulled on my hair was intoxicating, it was painful, but the pleasure it gave me completely overpowered it.

His free hand trailed up the front of my shirt, pushing it up over my bra, before pushing that up as well. He squeezed my boob in his hand, lightly pinching my nipple, making me whimper.

"Yeah? You like how I fuck you, don't you? You're taking me so well." He praised, his hips stuttering a bit, so he took his hand away from my boob, pulling out for a moment to grab my thigh and rest it atop the edge of the sink.

After he readjusted me, he pushed my back down again, still keeping his strong grip in my hair, before thrusting back into me. "Yes!" I moaned out, the new angle allowing him to hit my g-spot, and his balls to slap my clit repeatedly.

I knew if he kept up this pace I wasn't gonna last much longer, plus I was still a bit sensitive from him denying me my orgasm before. "Fuck, this pussy is all mine." He groaned, his voice hoarse.

"Yes! Oh, fuck it's yours! All yours!" I said in between moans. I was a mess, beginning to clench tightly around him as I felt myself nearing release.

Fred moaned as he felt me squeezing him, "You close, love? Gonna cum?" He taunted, picking up his pace, which I wasn't sure was even possible.

"Yes! So close." I said, my voice cracking.

"Cum then, cum all over my cock." Fred commanded. It didn't take long after his words for my release to wash over me, my eyes rolled back as I let out a guttural moan, my legs shaking as he continued to pound into me, letting me ride out my high.

I felt Fred twitch inside of me before he spoke, "Shit, shit..." He moaned, swiftly pulling out of me, "On your knees." He demanded, his voice low and authoritative. I instantly complied, moving off the sink and getting on my knees in front of him, "Open your mouth for me, love." He said, prompting me to listen, I opened wide, staring up at him as he jerked off above me.

He groaned at the sight of me below him, throwing his head back, as he hovered his tip over my tongue, "You look so good down there." He said, before letting out a guttural moan, and releasing in my mouth.

I moaned as his cum shot out onto my tongue, the salty taste making me hum in pleasure. "Fuck..." He trailed off, his hand slowing on himself as he milked himself dry.

I closed my mouth, swallowing his seed, making him stare down at me darkly, before harshly pulling me up to my feet. "Such a good girl for me." He praised once more, holding my cheek in his hand before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.

As he pulled away, he gave me a loving look, "Was that okay, love? I didn't go to hard did I?" He asked, making my heart melt. "No, that was... Perfect." I told him, it still baffled me how he could be so rough and dominant and then switch to being so caring and comforting.

He chuckled, "Good." He said, moving away from me to pull his boxers back up and put his pants on. As he did I adjusted my bra and pulled my shirt down, before bending down as well to put my own pants on, but I stopped short when I felt the sudden pain in my legs, making me wobble a bit.

"Woah." Fred spoke, going forward and grabbing my waist to steady me, "You alright?"

"Yeah... My legs just hurt a bit." I told him. Fred smirked at that, making me shoot him a glare, and lightly slap him on the chest. "Shut up."

He rose his hands in mock surrender, "I didn't say anything." I just shook my head at him, trying to bend down again, but he stopped me, "Let me help you."

I watched him as he bent down, slowly pulling up my underwear, then my pants, even buttoning them for me. I gave him a smile as he stood back up, and pecked my lips. "Thanks."

"For what? The sex, or helping you put your clothes back on?" He joked, making me roll my eyes. "Fred." I warned him, making him chuckle. "Okay, okay. I'll stop." He said, as he buckled his belt, while I adjusted my hair, trying to make it look like Fred's hands weren't just gripping and tugging on it a few minutes ago.

"Do you think they'll know?" I asked, making him look at me. He glanced down at my neck, specifically the hickeys that littered every inch of my skin. He stifled his smirk, "Considering the amount of hickeys I left on you... No, they'll have no clue." He said, sarcastically.

I groaned before we both looked at each other, and instantly broke out into laughter. This was definitely not how I thought this day would go when I woke up this morning, but I couldn't complain.

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

masterlist

[fredgeorgegredfeorge]

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Best Friends Brother pt. 2 | C.W. ⋆✮⋆˙

> Part One

feat. Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

SUMMARY: Months have passed since you met (ie shagged and definitely didn't fall in love with) Charlie Weasley. And when Molly invites you to the Burrow for Christmas, your best friends Fred and George assure you that Charlie will not be in attendance. Spoiler alert: They are wrong.

CW: MDNI 18+, lots of christmas fluff and smut, Charlie being a shameless flirt, pining, brat tamer and primal!charlie if you squint, dirty talk, p in v, oral (f receiving), this is so tooth-rotting I cannot

AN: Charlie might be my favorite weasley to write for. and the implications of brat taming and primal play have my mind reeeeeeling

“So what are you doing for Christmas, deary?” Mrs. Weasley asked, stirring a sugar lump into her tea. You were squeezed beside Fred into a booth at tea shop in Diagon Alley, having run into your best friends and their mother while Christmas shopping. Molly insisted you join them for a rejuvenating cuppa, and you weren't one to refuse an earl grey.

“Oh, nothing really. Probably watch some corny films and get take away,” you replied, nibbling on the edge of a croissant.

“What?!” She gasped, so loud the neighboring tables turned to see what the fuss what about.

Fred and George pulled an identical grimace.

“Unacceptable!” She cried, dropping her spoon with a clatter. “Why on earth didn't you tell me she was spending Christmas alone?!” She whacked George on the arm and kicked Fred in the shin under the table.

“We didn't know!” They whined in unison, rubbing their injuries.

“Oh, Mrs. Weasley, it really isn't a big deal—”

“Not a big deal! Dear, it's Christmas!” She reached across the table and took your hands, squeezing hard and holding your eye. “You will spend it with us at the Burrow, alright?”

Your heart stopped, your tongue going thick. “Oh, I-uh—”

“Charlie will be in Romania,” Fred hissed to you from the corner of his mouth. “Just say yes, or she’ll skin us.”

Charlie. Best friends brother, dragon wrangler, and the best lay you'd ever had in your life. It had been three months since your tryst in the storage room, and the hours of effortless conversation that came after, and you'd thought of him every day since.

You'd exchanged a few letters over the months, pleasantries and some light flirting on Charlie's part. He'd even sent you a few shed scales from your favorite dragon species, the Welsh Green, but beyond that, nothing had transpired.

He lived on Romania, after all. And his work was his life. You just had a bit of fun together, a few hours of fantasy, nothing more. But no matter how many times you repeated that like mantra, you still found yourself unable to move on.

“I hope you know, love, I will not accept 'no' as an answer,” Molly said, pining you with a stern glare.

“Well, thank you, Mrs. Weasley. I’m very grateful for the invitation, and I'd love to spend the holidays with your family,” you said, offering as genuine a smile you could muster despite your trepidation, and Molly beamed at you, already running through her plans for you all.

Fred slung an arm around your shoulders, jostling you with his excitement. “Yes! You're gonna love it.”

You were grateful, and you were eager to have a real Christmas with a family you adored, but it still felt…odd. You'd be spending the holidays with Charlie's family, but not Charlie.

You weren't sure if you were relieved or disappointed but…either way you were spending Christmas at the Weasley’s.

The Burrow and it's residents welcomed you with open arms. The sprawling home was decorated floor to rafter in homemade garland and candles, with decorated trees in every room, branches heavy with ornaments and paper chains.

Harry, Hermione, and Fleur were also staying over the holidays, and Ginny was beside herself with excitement that you were joining as well, pulling you in for a crushing hug that squeezed the last of bits of anxiety from your heart. Percy and Bill helped with your things, and the twins were quick to get a drink in your hand while everyone chatted excitedly over one another.

It was warm and merry, and you couldn't believe you almost missed this because of a stupid, little crush.

After about an hour of conversation, you noticed Ginny start to fidget under Harry’s arm, glancing at the location clock by the stairs every few minutes. The hand with Charlie's name remained firmly at ‘work’, while the rest piled into ‘home’.

You exhaled, fighting the nerves reknitting themselves in your stomach.

“Oi, twitchy,” Fred bumped your shoulder, drawing your attention back to the conversation. “What's on your mind—”

The floo station suddenly flared to life, verdant green light blasting through the room as the flames roared. Everyone yelped and scurried back, well, besides Ginny, and when the flames died the next instant, you realized why.

Charlie Weasley stood at the center of the fireplace, a bag over his shoulder and a smug smile on his face.

Your stomach turned inside out.

Merlin, how had he gotten even more handsome? His hair was a slightly longer, his beard thicker to ward off the biting, Romanian cold. He wore a heavy coat and cargo pants, leather boots still packed with melting snow.

“Charles!” Molly shrieked, throwing herself at her second oldest son and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

“Charlie!” Everyone cried, rushing to greet him while you tiptoed the opposite way, meaning to escape into the hall so you could collect yourself.

“Ah, ah,” George said, catching your wrist, grinning. “You don't want to do that,” he teased.

“And why not?” You huffed.

“Better to play it cool,” he winked, and you stuck your tongue out at him.

He was right, though. You would only survive this if you played it cool. Pretended everything was normal, that you hadn't been pining for this man for weeks on end, that the thought of spending Christmas with Charlie didn't make your heart flutter with excitement.

“But the clock!” Arthur laughed, finally wrangling Molly away so he could hug his son.

“Asked Ginevra to enchant it,” Charlie said, hugging his father with one arm and bundling his little sister into his opposite side, dropping a kiss on top of her head. “Seems she did well.”

“It is not to be tampered with!” Molly crowed, wiping tears from her cheeks.

“Alright, alright. I'll fix it,” Charlie chuckled, withdrawing his wand from his belt and muttering a reversal spell. The clock hand whirred around the face, confused, before it finally settled on ‘home’ with everyone else.

Charlie made his way around the room, hugging everyone and chatting until finally, he reached George, who you were attempting to hide behind.

Charlie pulled him into a bear hug, clapping him on the back. “She knows I can see her, right?” He murmured to George, just loud enough to be sure you also heard him.

Your cheeks warmed, your stomach falling through the floor.

George scoffed. “Stop checkin’ out my girlfriend, mate.”

Charlie grinned, shoving George to the side, perhaps a little harder than necessary. “Dream on, Georgie,” he chuckled, eyes shining with amusement. He finally turned to you, his expression softening. “Happy Christmas, y/n,” he said, approaching slowly, the heavy plod of his boots matching the jump of your heart.

“Happy Christmas, Charlie,” you replied, playing coy and reaching up to brush some snow from his wide shoulder. “How's my Welsh Green?” you asked.

Charlie smirked, his eyes sweeping over your face, down your neck, before flicking back to your eyes. “She nearly took my head off this morning when I tried to give her breakfast.”

“My kind of girl.” You felt your skin prickle under his attention, but you held your composure.

“Mine too,” he purred, lowering his voice. Heat curled low in your stomach, remembering the way his voice pitched and deepened while you—good god, you were losing your mind.

“Time for supper!” Molly called over the dull roar of conversation, and you slipped away from Charlie to follow the twins into the dining room, desperate for a breath that wasn’t sweetened by his cologne.

Dinner went by in a blur of food and activity, Charlie sat by Arthur at the head while you were sequestered to the other side with the twins. After eating, Charlie slipped away to shower, and you joined everyone else back in the living room for board games and music.

You were wrapped up in a game of Scrabble with Hermoine and Ginny when Charlie re-emerged, his hair damp and slicked back, dressed in flannel pajama pants and a black t-shirt. Your mouth dried, your pussy fluttering at the mental image of him in the shower moments before.

His eyes found you across the room, his tongue darting out to wet his lips while they swept over you, taking in the House crewneck and pj shorts you’d changed into. You turned back the game to hide your face, swallowing the lump in your throat.

A moment passed, then Charlie turned to join Bill, Percy, and Arthur in the study, casting you another glance over his shoulder before disappearing.

A few more hours rolled by, and one by one, everyone went to bed besides the older men in the study. Molly set you up on the couch, apologizing profusely for the lack of space, but you waved her off, happy to curl up by the fire and read the book Percy lent you.

You settled in with a blanket over your lap, a book in one hand, cup of tea in the other. Soon though, exhaustion began to tug at you, and your eyes started to flutter closed, the warmth of the room and the chaos of the day taking its toll as you slipped into unconsciousness.

Distantly, you felt someone take the book from your hand, the empty tea cup from your lap, and you swam back to wakefulness, lifting your head.

“Just me, love,” a voice said, soft and male, and you immediately recognized it as Charlie’s.

You blinked open your eyes, finding him sticking a playing card in your book to hold your page. “Oh, what are you doin’?” you mumbled, rubbing a knuckle in your eye.

“Are you sleeping down here?” he asked, crouching in front of you, brow lightly creased. He smelled like woodsmoke and cinnamon, and you had to remind your sleep-addled mind that you could not just melt into his arms like softened candle wax.

You nodded. “Guest beds are full. But it’s okay, m’comfy.” You snuggled back down on to the couch, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

“I don’t think so. C’mon, you can take my bed.”

You shook your head, grumbling an unintelligible protest into the pillow as sleep crept back in on you.

Suddenly, you were moving, the couch falling away.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the sodding couch,” Charlie grumbled, curling you into his chest. You gave half a thought to try and free yourself, to put up some sort of fight, but his heartbeat was right against your ear, reverberating in the barrel of his chest, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to move away.

He carried you up a few flights of stairs and down a hallway, nudging open a bedroom door with his foot, careful to walk you through without bumping against anything. He set you down on his bed and tucked you under the thick duvet. The smell of him wrapped around you, clean and warm and Charlie, and you moaned in contentment, too tired to stop yourself.

Every one of your cells had missed him.

He pressed a light-as-air kiss to your temple before pulling away. You reached out to catch his hand, surprising him.

“Where are you gonna sleep?” You asked, voice muffled by his pillow.

“I’ll find somewhere,” he murmured, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. “Used to sleeping in strange places.”

You must have pulled some kind of face, your filter nonexistent in your sleepy state, because he leaned back down to you, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Better stop with that pout, sweetheart. You’ve got me strung out on the gallows,” he warned, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“M’not doing anything,” you teased back, peeking open your eyes to look at him.

“I’m trying to behave this time,” he chuckled, crossing his heart. “You deserve to be properly courted.”

A yawn stole the snarky quip from your tongue. “If you insist,” you sigh, eyes fluttering closed again.

“I do. Now, get some sleep,” he whispered, but you were already gone.

The following morning, you trudged down the stairs at an egregious hour, the incessant, jovial chatter of the Weasley's impossible to sleep through.

You found them all in the kitchen, steam from the kettle floating through the air, chased by the scent of cinnamon and syrup.

“There she is! The dead walks the earth! Now go bloody change!” Arthur shouted, shoving a rumpled but bright-eyed looking Charlie out from the crowd around the kitchen island.

“Huh?” You looked between the twins and Arthur, but Charlie slung an arm over your shoulder, tugging you into his side.

“I've been summoned to the Ministry for an update on a particularly nasty Horntail,” he said, then leaned in a little closer. “And Happy Christmas Eve, darling,” he whispered.

“Happy Christmas Eve—sorry, what does that have to do with me?” You asked, your brain catching up to the situation.

“The sap refused to risk waking you up to change into his suit,” George supplied. "So they're running late."

“Why would you—”

“Ignore them, you can sleep as long as you like,” he murmured to you.

“Charlie!” You hissed. “You should have woken me up!”

“Over my dead body, love.”

“Charles! Now!” Molly shouted, rattling the rafters.

“Fine, fine.” He reluctantly pulled away from you and bound up the stairs.

“Good morning,” Fred said, beaming at your scowl.

“Morning people, are we?” You asked, accepting a cup of coffee from George.

“No,” Ron argued, his head pillowed by his arms on the table.

Fifteen minutes later, the clop of heavy boots coming down the stairs drew everyone's attention away from their breakfast.

Charlie came around the bend, dressed in a simple, espresso colored suit with a black wool coat, a leather bag slung over his shoulder. His hair was pushed back, brushed and tidy, and silver jewelry shined from his pierced ears and ringed hands.

You nearly choked on your eggs, and Fred clapped a hand on your back.

Everyone wolf whistled and jeered, not used to seeing their rakish brother dressed to the nines. Charlie waved them off with a soft smile, leaning over you to grab a cinnamon roll. His freshly applied cologne wafted over you, spicy and warm, and all other thoughts vacated your head.

Arthur grabbed him by the arm. “Yes, yes. You're very handsome, you are my son after all. Let's go.”

“Wish us luck!” Charlie called, allowing an impatient Arthur to drag him towards the floo station. In a burst of green, they were gone.

“Are all mornings this chaotic?” You asked no one in particular.

“Yes,” they all replied in a unison, and you grinned.

You could get used to a little chaos.

The day passed in a whirlwind of preparation, with you spending most of it with Molly in the kitchen or decorating with the twins.

Once that was finished, you'd gotten ready in Charlie's room, dressing in a white sweater dress and black stockings, your hair loose and makeup light.

You couldn't help but wonder what Charlie would think of it as you evaluated yourself in the mirror. You felt his absence like an ache in your side, and found your gaze wandering back to the floo station all day.

About an hour before dinner, green flames finally erupted in the fireplace. Everyone dropped what they were doing and rushed over, eager to hear about how it went at the Ministry.

You'd gathered from the twins that the fate of the Horntail hung in the balance after it destroyed a flock of sheep in Western Scotland. Charlie, along with several other Dragonologists, had been fighting for it’s life for months.

The flames extinguished, revealing Arthur and Charlie. Arthur was beaming, an arm around his son, while Charlie looked exhausted.

“Oh, thank goodness. Just in time!” Molly cried, throwing her arms around her husband.

“How'd it go?” Everyone asked at once, following Charlie as he stalked into the living room and dropped heavily onto the couch.

Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut against the racket.

“Our son was incredible, Molly. You should have seen him. Every question, he beat away like a bludger. It was masterful,” Arthur gushed, still grinning.

You watched Charlie warily. He certainly wasn't acting like it had gone well.

Bill, seeming as concerned as you, poured a glass of whiskey and passed it to his younger brother. Charlie swallowed the amber drink in one go, not even bothering to open his eyes.

“So, is the Horntail safe?” Ginny asked, sitting tentatively beside her brother on the couch.

“For now,” Charlie muttered, finally picking his head up and opening his eyes. “They want to reevaluate in six months.”

“But that's good, isn't it?” Harry asked.

Charlie nodded. “I suppose.”

You could feel the hurt and anger radiating off of him despite his efforts at composure. The resolution clearly wasn't good enough for him, and you understood why.

You resisted the urge to sit by him, to fuss over him like his family was doing. It seemed to only drive him deeper into himself. He didn't need to hear that it was a good thing, a victory, because it wasn't. It shouldn't be a debate in the first place.

Christmas Eve dinner passed with the expected chaos, and Charlie seemed to cheer a bit after a good meal, a few laughs, and another whiskey. But you could still detect a heaviness around his shoulders. You felt it as keenly as if it was your own burden.

After dinner, everyone moved back into the living room, but you followed Charlie into the now abandoned kitchen, the wreckage of the meal evident on every surface.

You leaned against the entry way, watching as he fiddled with random things, looking for a way to distract himself. “Hey,” you murmured, drawing his attention from the mugs he was straightening.

He gave you a tired smile. “Hi, love. How was your day?” He asked, moving towards you. He'd ditched his blazer and dress shirt before dinner, leaving him in his dark trousers and a white t-shirt, his muscles straining against the fabric.

“It was good. Made some cookies, strung some lights. We missed you, though.”

He braced a hand on the wall beside your head, leaning closer. “We?” He asked, raising a brow.

Merlin, his bicep was the size of your head.

You shrugged, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Me, mostly.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, freckles crinkling around his eyes. “I missed you too. Would have much rather been here to help out. I make a mean gingerbread.”

“I bet you do," you replied sincerely, watching the way his shoulders start to ease down. “I’m sorry about the Horntail,” you said, a little quieter. “But I'm glad you bought it a little more time.”

Charlie sighed, picking at a flake of paint on the wall. “I am too. Just wish I didn't have to do it at all. He doesn't deserve to be executed just for feeding himself.”

“I know. But I'm glad he has you to speak for him.”

Charlie searched your face, his eyes melting with blatant affection. Your heart tripped over itself, drumming hard under your skin.

He glanced up and you followed his gaze, finding a sprig of mistletoe hanging just above your heads. You hadn't noticed it before, but you supposed that was the beauty of mistletoe: it was always where you least expected it.

His eyes flicked back down to you, molten chocolate, and your thoughts turned to static. He reached up to cup your face, far more timid than you've come to expect from him, and tilted your head up towards his.

“Can't believe I haven't told you how beautiful you look yet,” he said, his other hand sliding around your waist to draw you closer. “A Christmas wish come true.”

You smiled, feeling like marshmallow over an open flame. “A Christmas wish?” You prodded, batting your lashes at him as heat spilled through you.

“Too cheesy?” He asked, bumping his nose against yours, your faces so close you could almost feel his smirk.

“The perfect amount,” you murmured, your lips grazing his.

Charlie closed the final millimeter, pressing your bodies together in a slow, sipping kiss. Every neuron in your body lit up, reaching towards him as you curled your fingers into his shirt, deepening the kiss. His tongue caressed the seam of your mouth and you parted for him, letting him delve further and taste you.

He loosed a low groan, his grip tightening as he backed you against the wall. He licked into your mouth, stoking the fire simmering under your skin.

“Hey, y/n—merlin, in the middle of the kitchen? Really?”

You and Charlie sprang apart, finding Fred with a hand clapped over his eyes, a cheeky grin on his face.

“So sorry for interrupting. Though, lucky it was me and not mum,” he teased, dropping his hand. But his smile quickly fell too when Charlie advanced on him, swinging an arm out in an attempt to grab him. Fred ducked to the left and bolted back into the living room, leaving Charlie laughing and shaking his head.

“Well, that's fantastic,” you huffed, pressing a hand to your sternum to quell your pounding heart.

“I can't say they'll be all that surprised.” Charlie cupped your face again, drawing you up for a quick peck. “I haven't shut up about you since we met.”

You're soul lifted out of your body. “You—r-really?”

He smiled, pulling you in for a hug, his big arms wrapped around your head and shoulders. “Really, love. You've got me wrapped around your little finger,” he said, his voice muffled by your hair.

“I thought I was going mad, I…I couldn't stop thinking about you,” you admitted, exhaling in relief. You hugged him around the waist, sliding your hands under his shirt just to feel his skin against yours.

You felt him stiffen at your admission, before the tension dissolved from his muscles completely. “Maybe we're both a little mad, then,” he chuckled.

“We should get back to the party before they start to miss us,” you said after a few moments of quiet, though all you wanted to do was drag him up to his room and show him just how mad you were for him. But you were a guest, and you needed a moment to get your thoughts in order.

It seemed Charlie had made up his mind about what he wanted, but you hadn't even begun to let yourself consider something real with Charlie Weasley. It seemed like too lofty a hope, an impossibility.

Your heart screamed ‘yes’ but your mind demanded a rationalization, a plan. Whatever you felt for him was intense, but you would hate to rush into something and ruin what you knew could be amazing.

Well, rush into something any more than your already had.

You realized he was studying you like your thoughts were written across your skin. “Baby, look at me,” he said, turning your face back up to his. “I know we started off on an…unorthodox foot. But that wasn't just a hook up and you and I both know it.” He leaned his forehead against yours. “There’s something more between us.”

“I feel it too,” you admitted. “But I've never…” you trailed off, unable to articulate the tumbling thoughts in your mind.

“Me neither, to be honest. I feel like I've been struck by lightning,” he said, breathless, a slight nervous tremble in his voice.

You nodded, reassured that he was feeling the same, vaguely crazed way you were.

“Trust yourself, y/n,” he said, releasing you from the hug and offering you his hand. “Overthinking is the thief of joy.”

“Get out of my brain,” you huffed in mock annoyance, smiling as you twined your fingers with his.

The rest of the evening passed in a rose colored blur, with cookies and games and storytelling. Charlie never strayed far from your side, though you kept any physical affection to a minimum. But based on the knowing looks from Arthur and Molly, and the teasing smirks and jabs from his siblings, they were definitely on to you two.

After the clock struck midnight, Molly demanded everyone go off to bed so Father Christmas would have no interruptions. You were all plenty old enough to know there was no such thing, but it still made you feel a giddy thrill of excitement. That glimmer of Christmas magic you never grow out of.

Charlie offered you his hand at the base of the stairs, a mischievous sort of smile on his face, and you accepted with a raised eyebrow. He led you up the stairs and opened the door to his room with a flourish.

You nearly toppled over when you walked in. It was completely transformed from this morning. Gone were the normal decorations and his dark duvet, replaced instead with a winter forest wonderland.

His bedspread was a deep forest green, with white throw pillows and silver trim, and a stuffed reindeer waited patiently for you on the pillow, floppy and velveteen. In the corner stood a flocked tree, decorated with pine cones and strung cranberries, and little animal ornaments carved from wood. The fire roared merrily in the fireplace, the mantle above it strewn with wild garland and rosemary. Two stockings hung above the flame, each of your names embroidered on them in silver and gold.

You whirled around to look at Charlie, who was smiling down at you, a slight flush to his freckled cheeks.

“When the hell did you have time to do this?” You asked, breathless and overwhelmed. No one has ever done something so special for you before.

“While you were wrapped up in Wizards Chess with Ron.” He snaked his arms around you, dropping a kiss to your furrowed brow.

“Charlie, this is—” emotion clogged your throat. “T-this is the m-most amazing thing—”

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, shushing you with a peck to your lips. “Spoiling you on Christmas feels like the least I can do to show you how much you mean to me. How badly I want this.”

“This?” You ask, sliding your hands up his broad chest. You expected to feel butterflies, but instead a warm blanket of peace settled over you, an understanding that this is exactly how it was meant to go. That here, with him, in the earliest hours of Christmas morning, was exactly where you belonged.

“Us,” he murmured, glancing at the stockings over the mantle, then back down to you, his dark eyes practically glowing with affection. “If that's what you want too.”

“Even with me here in London?” You asked, fiddling with his collar to hide the shaking in your fingers.

“We'll figure it out. You can come visit me as often as you like. And I can come back here a few times a month.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek, moving down your neck like he just couldn't hold himself back anymore. “I have a cabin.” Kiss. “In the forest.” Kiss. “With a big fireplace.” Kiss. “And a soaking tub.” Kiss. “And I can cook.” Kiss. “And have a giant bed—”

“Charlie!” You giggled, tugging on his hair so he lifted his head and you could kiss him properly, melting under the eagerness of his mouth, the joy in his kiss.

He scooped you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He crossed the room without breaking the kiss, sinking down onto the edge of the bed with you straddling him. The heat of your bodies pressed together was enough to have your pussy tingling, your breath labored.

“I wanna go where you go,” you breathed, breaking the kiss to appease your burning lungs. “I want to be with you.”

He responded with another fervid kiss, open-mouthed and hungry, and you let yourself get swept away in the riptide that was Charlie Weasley. Wild, impulsive, but so sincere, so lion-hearted and good. You weren't sure you'd ever get enough of him.

He seemed just as desperate for you, tugging his shirt over his head and letting your hands finally wander the full expanse of his body without barriers. You pushed him back onto the bed so you could really take him in, his big hands resting heavily on your thighs. He was broad and sturdy, his chest and arms corded with hard earned muscle, the tanned skin littered with freckles and silvery scars.

You nearly started drooling.

In a fluid motion, you tugged your sweater dress over your head, leaving you in nothing but your Christmas underwear set and black stockings. The set was black mesh, decorated with mistletoe and holly berries. You had bought in Hogsmeade on the off chance Charlie made an appearance, and it was worth the steep price to see his soul ascend as he took you in.

“Merlin’s fucking—” he didn't even finish the sentence, instead pulling you down onto his chest for another scalding kiss, his calloused hands wandering up your thighs and over your hips, smoothing over the curve of your rib cage and around the plane of your back. His tongue slid into your mouth, twining with yours. You could taste the whiskey he'd been drinking, tinged with cigar smoke and gingerbread, and you moaned at the decadence of him.

One of his hands slid around to cup the nape of your neck, the other bracketing across your lower back to press your hips flush to his. You ground down onto him, unable to ignore the thrumming between your legs any longer. You both groaned at the new friction, his hips lifting to press more firmly against you.

“Just so you know,” he gruffed as you kissed down his neck, licking a long stripe over his Adam’s apple, feeling his stubble under your tongue. “I put a silencing charm on the room.”

“Very presumptuous of you,” you teased, sucking at his pulse just hard enough to leave a faint bruise, but nothing too obvious.

His hips rolled against yours, coaxing a breathy moan from your lips. “Part of my training includes being prepared for any situation,” he countered, his voice strained with desire as you rocked against him.

“Uh-huh. And what else were you trained to do?” You asked, freezing in place to watch him squirm.

A wicked smirk crossed his face and suddenly you were moving, flipped beneath his body faster than you could blink. “How to tame brats,” he growled against your ear, and a shiver rolled down your spine.

He shifted down your body, kissing and licking along the swell of your breasts before unlatching your bra and tossing in across the room. He took both your tits in his hands, nuzzling the soft flesh before laving his tongue across both nipples, making you lift off the bed with a gasp of pleasure.

“It's not fair that you get to walk around with these all the time. Too fucking perfect,” he said, his voice muffled by your skin.

You almost said that they were his. That the only thing that wasn't fair was how quickly he'd stolen your heart. But you bit your tongue, moaning under his ministrations instead.

He sucked a pearled nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it before grazing his teeth against it, his fingers pinching and rolling the other until your eyes crossed, desire pooling between your legs.

“Can take my time with you now,” he hummed, pulling back to pepper kisses across your chest. “Take care of my girl properly.”

My girl. Your head spun, your heart swelling with elation. You never thought this would happen for you, the perpetually single girl who never found someone you genuinely connected with. But Charlie was like a comet tearing through your life, turning every one of your assumptions about love upside down.

He drew you back from your thoughts with a bite under your left breast. “Come back to me, baby. No more overthinking.”

“It’s good thoughts this time,” you said, running your fingers through his ginger hair and scratching along his scalp as he soothed the mark with his tongue.

He looked up at you, a pleased smirk on his face. “Thinking about that soaking tub, huh?”

You pulled his hair, giggling at his antics while he moved further down your body. “Among other things—shit, Charlie,” you whined when his tongue dragged over the soaked gusset of your panties, scalding hot and firm.

He pulled them to the side, gliding his tongue through your slick folds and wrapping his lips around your clit, lashing it with the tip of his tongue. Pleasure coursed through you, your eyes rolling back in your skull as you cried out.

He hummed against you, moving back down to lap at your entrance with long, messy strokes. He was practically grinding his face against you, savoring you like you were the finest meal he'd ever had. He was so enraptured in pleasuring you that he was moaning right along with you, making your clit vibrate and walls flutter.

“Saints, I missed you,” he said, giving your clit and open mouthed kiss before sucking the sensitive bud between his teeth.

You couldn't even begin to formulate words, completely lost in his feasting, your body fizzing with delight and pleasure. It felt like you were high, your muscles languid, bones rubbery.

“Not thinking anymore, are we?” He teased, nipping at the soft skin of your inner thigh.

You whimpered and shook your head, raising your hips to chase after his mouth.

“Good girl.” he purred, rewarding you by latching back onto your clit, his middle finger easing inside your greedy channel.

You cried out, clenching around his finger as he pushed you closer to the edge, your listless haze making way for bright, desperate pleasure. You bucked your hips against his mouth, his tongue flattening against your clit as his inserted a second finger, stretching you. The sounds were damn near sinful, lewd and sloppy as he worked your pussy into submission, molding you like a sculptor with wet clay.

“Fuck, Charlie. M’gonna come,” you whined, tangling your fingers in his hair to keep him in that perfect spot.

He curled his fingers inside of you and your vision whited out, your orgasm ripping through you, body and soul. You screamed, spine arching off the bed as wave after wave of burning ecstasy rolled through you, his tongue and fingers not letting up for a second as you convulsed.

“That's it, honey. Just like that, let it all go,” he cooed, kitten-licking your clit as you started to come down, his fingers continuing to gently massage your spasming walls. “Try to relax, love. I know it's a lot, but just relax f’me. You're doing so well.”

You sank back into the mattress, breathing labored as he soothed your quivering pussy with gentle touches. “Charlie,” you moaned, your body finally settling and cycling from overstimulation to rebuilding pleasure. “Feels s’good.”

He nuzzled your clit, kissing over your slit, the top of your mound, your inner thighs. “I live to serve,” he said, withdrawing his fingers and sucking them clean. “And if I have to live my life in service to this perfect little cunt, so be it.” As if to punctuate his point, he laved his tongue through you again and you keened, nearly jumping away at the intensity.

You shook you head, tugging him up by the hair. “Need you to fuck me, Charlie. Please?”

He grinned, kissing his way back up your body until he caught your lips once more, the taste of you mixing with him in a way that pleased some possessive part of your brain. You deepened the kiss, licking into his mouth for more.

He pressed his body against yours, the weight of him warm and comforting as you savored one another. You trailed your hands over his back, feeling some of the ridges and scars stretched across the ropes of muscle. He guided one of your legs up over his hip, angling your bodies together like a puzzle piece.

You basked in the simmering kiss for a moment longer before need began to claw at your insides, your hips pressing up against his once more.

“Charlie, please,” you sighed into his mouth, dragging your nails down his back. “Don't make me beg.”

“But you sound so sweet, all breathy and desperate,” he cooed, pecking your lips a final time before moving off the bed. He slid your panties down your legs, tossing them aside with your other clothes, then removed his trousers and boxers, that gorgeous, rosy cock slapping up against his stomach.

He climbed back onto the bed and spread your thighs, kneading the flesh at your hip while he ran the rigid head of his cock through your drooling pussy.

“My sweet girl wants to get fucked, hm?” he said, his voice rough as he used his cock to massage your puffy clit. “Let me hear you ask one more time, honey. Sounds so pretty.”

“Please fuck me, baby. Please,” you whimpered, fisting the sheets on either side of you.

He notched his cock at your entrance, hissing through his teeth as your pussy opened effortlessly for him. “That's it, lovey. Fuck, your little pussy is so tight f’me,” he groaned as your walls clenched around him, coaxing him deeper. You could tell he was fighting the urge to bottom out in one thrust, the muscles in his arms and shoulders taught and trembling, chest heaving and jaw a little slack.

You reached for him, the feeling so intense you needed an anchor. He leaned forward, knowing what you craved, and let you wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his neck.

He rubbed soothing circles on your thigh, his other hand sliding around your back to hold you against him. “Too much, baby?” He asked, pausing his slow penetration.

“Too good,” you whimpered, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He nodded, loosing a breath as you clenched around him. “Feel like your squeezing my heart,” he groaned, and you could feel it racing just beneath his skin, frantic as yours.

“Keep going, Charlie. Please,” you begged, tilting your pelvis so he sank a little deeper.

He eased you back onto the bed, still holding you close. “Good girl, takin’ me so well. Just relax, honey. Just feel me,” he soothed as he pushed the rest of the way in, his cockhead nudging your cervix and stretching your walls just enough. Not sensing any discomfort from you, he started rolling his hips back and forth in fluid strokes, kissing your skin wherever he could reach.

Pleasure spread through your body like ink through water, coloring every sensation, every thought. You loosened your grip on him, opening yourself up to his unhurried affection as he fucked you slowly, letting you adjust to the onslaught of sensation.

“You're so pretty like this, so fucking perfect.” He mouthed at your throat, your head tilting back with a cry as he increased his pace, ecstasy dancing along your skin. “All mine to love on, yeah? You all mine, baby?”

You bobbed your head, already cockdrunk and blissed out, your body submitting completely to him. “Yes, fuck, yes. All yours,” you whimpered, that knot in your lower stomach starting to tighten.

“Fuck yes, my good girl.” He leaned down and caught your lips in a searing kiss, a growl rumbling through his chest as he fucked you harder, driving his cock in and out of your sopping cunt with powerful strokes. “And I'm yours, baby. All fucking yours.” He murmured against your mouth and you grinned, feeling your heart give a discordant thump of elation.

He leaned back to fuck you deeper, one hand tangling with both of yours and pining your arms over your head, the other sliding down to rub tight circles over your clit. You stretched out for him, arching your breasts up to his hungry gaze as he railed you, merciless and claiming.

“Saints, you look so fucking sexy. Gonna come for me, love? Mark this cock as yours?”

You let out a scream as a second orgasm was wrenched from your body, the tension unraveling all at once in a torrent of bliss. You clamped hard around him, feeling his cock swell, then buck as his own release crashed over him, your name coming out like roar.

You clung to one another, his hips still rolling into yours as your walls milked him dry, wringing every drop of pleasure from one another until you crashed back to earth as one.

After catching your breath for a moment, he lifted off of you, hands skimming over your face, your body. “Merlin, I’m sorry, baby. I really didn't mean to be that rough, are you okay? Did I hurt—”

You silenced him with a kiss, pulling his body back down onto yours. “Was perfect,” you mumbled against his lips and he smiled.

“You were perfect,” he corrected, pecking kisses all over your cheeks and forehead. “Can’t get enough of you.”

You giggled, squirming as his hands tickled along your sensitive skin.

“Can I take you for a real date tomorrow? I don't know if anything will be open, but I refuse to go another day without—”

“Charlie,” you shushed, cupping his bearded cheek. “You can take me to the kitchen and call it a first date. I don't care about some made-up fucking rules. I just want to be with you.”

He grinned, giving you a quick, toothy kiss. “Then how about I clean you up, make some mulled wine with this expensive shit I brought back from Romania, and we cuddle by the fire? Call that our first date, and next year we can celebrate our one year anniversary on Christmas.”

You pushed against his chest, laughing at his dramatics, but secretly hoping that would be the case. “It better be a hell of mulled wine then,” you teased.

“Oh, it will be. Romanians don't fuck around when it comes to their booze. Now, open those gorgeous legs for me.”

“Charles Septimus Weasley! Get up!” Ginny shouted through the door, banging her fist on the wood. “You cannot sleep in on Christmas!”

“Septimus?” You groaned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Charlie had his head buried in your neck, heavy limbs thrown over your body. He was warm as a furnace, and the still crackling fire didn't help matters.

“Sod off!” he barked back, nuzzling closer and tightening his hold around you. You glanced at the clock, and after your prolonged first date, you'd only gotten a few scant hours of sleep.

“Fine! Then I'll throw whatever's in this fancy little box in the fire!”

Charlie was up in a flash, tugging on pants and wrenching open the door, but Ginny was already gone.

He sighed, grabbed something from the hall, then swung the door shut. He looked ready to dive back into bed, but you were already up, pulling on a pair of his boxers.

He froze in place, a feral sort of glint in his eye, forgetting entirely about the package in his hands. When you went to grab it, he lifted it high above his head, well out of your reach.

“Charlie!” You pouted, trying in vain to pull his arm down. He still hadn't taken his eyes off of your body. “You really want me to make a bad impression on your parents for our first Christmas?” You snapped, fighting the smile rising on your face.

“Just do a little spin for me,” he said, twirling a finger around.

“Charlie!”

“Fine, fine. Here,” he chuckled, handing you a pair of pajamas with your name embroidered on them. They were red and green, with white stripes and gold thread, the material thick and warm.

You loved them already.

The two of you quickly got dressed and hurried downstairs, finding everyone else already piled into the living room, also dressed in matching pj's.

“Ah, the lovebirds finally make their appearance!” Bill teased from the big arm chair, Fleur cuddled into his side.

Charlie flipped him off, ignoring the squawk of disapproval form his mother.

“Come, come!” Molly grabbed you and plunked you down on the last free space on the couch, and George passed you a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

George leaned in and muttered, “It's no mulled wine, but—”

Charlie whacked the back of his head. “Quiet, you,” he warned.

“Charles, if I have to speak to you again!” Molly shouted.

“Alright, alright! Let's get this show on the road,” Arthur said, shooing his son away so they could distribute the clumsily wrapped boxes under the tree.

Charlie plopped onto the floor between your knees, his hands coming up to absently massage your right foot. Your whole body tingled at the contact, your heart still tight with joy.

Could this really be your life?

Arthur passed out gifts, and you ended up with a pile of three at your feet. A flat, rectangular box, a heavy, square box, and one small enough to fit in your hand, wrapped in green and gold ribbon.

They went around one by one, opening gifts. Charlie received a new pair of steel-toed boots, enchanted to prevent the Romanian cold from creeping in, and an expensive looking bottle of gin, courtesy of his big brother.

After him, it was finally your turn. Your heart thudded from the attention, and you started unwrapping the larger present with trembling fingers. You tore off the paper and opened the white box underneath it, finding a knitted sweater with your initial on the front. Your throat pinched shut, tears burning behind your eyes as you traced your fingers over it.

“You're part of the family now, love,” Molly said, smiling warmly at you as you wiped away a tear with the back of your hand.

“Thank you,” you sniffled, laughing at yourself, and Charlie gave your ankle a reassuring squeeze, pressing a kiss to your knee.

The next present was from Fred and George, a stack of books you'd been eyeballing the last time the three of you went to Flourish and Blotts, and you pulled them in for a group hug.

Finally, it came down to the last present. The tension pulled taut as a bowstring when Charlie turned towards you, propped up on one knee, presenting the small box.

“I know how this looks,” he murmured, glancing down at himself. “But I promise I'm not that insane.”

You giggled nervously, taking the present from his hand and trying to ignore that his entire family was watching you. You tried to focus on Charlie, the rise and fall of his shoulders, the lock of copper hair hanging over his brow, and blocked the others out.

Carefully, you undid the ribbon and tore off the paper, revealing a black, dragon-leather box. Charlie gave you an encouraging nod, noticing the way you hesitated, and you cracked open the lid.

Inside was a golden necklace with a Welsh Green dragon scale pendant sitting on a velvet cushion. It was the most stunning shade of emerald you'd ever seen, reflecting beautifully in the candlelight, shifting blue, then pearlescent, and back to green. It was breathtaking, and you fought back the tears gathering on your lower lashes so you could continue to gaze at it.

“Charlie, this is—” emotion stole your words, and all you could do was throw your arms around him and bury your face into his shoulder.

“I hope you love it, darling. Had it made just for you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Here, let me put it on you.”

You nodded, sitting up and trying to wipe your tears before his family could see what a mess you were, but when you looked around, you saw half of them crying too.

Molly blew you a kiss, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief, and you nearly lost it again.

Charlie gently took the box from your hands and walked around behind the couch. His cool fingers grazed the sides of your throat and the weight of the pendant settled against your clavicle. A moment later, your heard the clasp click, and felt the warm brush of his lips on the back on your neck.

You fondled the pendant with your fingers, the metal already warming against your heated skin, the scale heavy and smooth. Charlie came back around to the front, eyes lighting up at the sight of your smile.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” he hummed, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

You grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Charlie.”

Thank you so much for reading!! (and if you have anything you'd like to read for Charlie, my asks are open!)

[r2d2lover]

Extra Credit

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Rating: E

Word Count: 3.69k (im so sorry)

Warnings: first time blow job, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, F/M, cunnilingus, fingering, aged-up characters, Hogwarts Uni AU

Summary:

Fed up with being romantically inept, you ask your childhood best friend, Fred Weasley, for some help.

Despite his reputation, Fred was quite the studious reader. He was always in the heart of the common room on a weekend, buried in a book about tricks, potions, and temporary charms. He was a man of research and if he found something that needed testing, he would contact you. You had been his most trusted scientific confidant since your childhood years and now in post-secondary school, the two of you were ever the academics. Fred and George disguised their penchant for shenanigans through their potioneering concentration and fortunate for them, you were naturally gifted from the amount of times you want to defy your old potions professor. However, while post-secondary school had been kind, you felt yourself lacking knowledge in a different area of life: romance. 

You seemed to be the only one amongst your friends to be completely unskilled in the art of love. While your friends seemed to effortlessly navigate the waters of dating and relationships, you felt like you were drowning in a sea of awkwardness and uncertainty. Sure, you tried when you were younger, but time and opportunity eluded you. You were always too focused on your own agency or helping the twins pull off some prank. There wasn’t a single boy who caught and held your attention like Fred or George. You finally decided one night to take the plunge and join the sexual fray by asking Fred to help you out. You leveraged in your mind it was an educational opportunity that would only happen once. Fred was a frequent flier, as you had heard him described, around school, so you figured that not only would he have the experience, but it would be as casual as his other flings.

It was during one of your late-night study sessions with Fred that you finally decided to broach the subject. The common room was empty save for the two of you, the crackling fire casting a warm glow over the scattered parchments and open books.

"Fred," You began hesitantly, setting down your quill. The sound of the cracking embers saved you from any awkward silence. "Can I ask you something... personal?"

"Of course. What's on your mind?" Fred looked up from his book on temporary transfiguration charms, his eyebrows raised in curiosity. You took a deep breath, feeling your cheeks grow warm. He put his book down when he clocked your growing fluster.

"How do you... I need to ask you something. Er… a favor?” You shifted your weight nervously, which only added to the glee in Fred’s face. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and stretching his arms behind his head. His smirk only grew wider.

“I love an opportunity for quid pro quo. What do you have in mind, princess?” Fred kept his lazy demeanor. Your stomach continued to bubble over from the nerves. You couldn’t believe you were actually going to ask him for this. Fred’s eyes followed you closely, especially when you swallowed thickly before speaking.

"Um, well...it's a chance to learn something new? An educational opportunity," You stumbled over your words, desperately trying to delay the inevitable. Fred gave you a quizzical look, silently urging you to elaborate with another raise of his eyebrows. "I...okay, fine. Teach me how to use my mouth." 

“Well, I think you have enough wit for the both of us and I know you and Cedric love to catch a snog-”

“No. Not like that,” The words felt like defeat as they left your lips. You curled your fingers in a nauseating mixture of fear and excitement. You leaned closer on the table and dropped your voice to a whisper. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Oh… Oh!” Fred’s eyes flashed with realization. He stood up from his chair too quickly, causing it to topple over and sent him crashing to the floor. You let out a gasp as Fred laughed and stayed on the ground. You reached out with a trembling hand to help him up, but he took advantage of the situation by pulling you down on top of him. “Are you... sure? Are you serious?”

“This is mortifying enough. Forget I said anything. It was, uh, a dare!” Your cheeks burned with humiliation while you scrambled to your feet. Fred let out another laugh and stood up without your help. Before you could flee, Fred grabbed your arm and trapped you against his body. He was absolutely drinking in your flustered state. 

“Woah, hey, where do you think you’re going? A dare? Nice try; You’re an awful liar,” Fred chuckled. He licked his lips in pure entertainment and you swore you saw his eyes darken. “I’ll teach you. I never said I wouldn’t.”

“I made a mistake. I don’t want this to make things weird between us,” You shake your head as if trying to clear your second thoughts, your first thoughts, and any thoughts, really. Fred took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping your head back so you looked up at him. Your mouth ran dry as you met his mischievous gaze. It was no secret that Fred was wildly attractive or that he was the object of affection for any girl in your cohort. You never thought you’d be seeing your childhood best friend in such light, but with the offer you just made, you tipped the two of you into an irreversible grey area. 

“It’s only weird if you don’t enjoy it and I am a very good teacher,” Fred practically purred into your ear. Your breath hitched as Fred's lips brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn’t deny the fire building in your stomach that was beginning to temper your nausea. You couldn't believe this was happening, that you had actually asked him for this, and that he had agreed. “And I can’t pass up an educational opportunity. Especially not to you.”

"So, um, how do we... start?" You asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. Fred pulled back slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief and something darker.

"Well, first things first," Fred said, his voice low and husky. "We need a more private location. My room should do nicely."

Before you could protest, Fred had taken your hand and was leading you up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Your heart pounded in your chest with each step and your mind followed suit, racing with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Once inside, Fred closed the door behind you with his foot and pushed you roughly against the wall. This was really happening.

“Stop me at any point, princess,” Fred trailed his lips from your ear lobe down to your jaw. He had you trapped against the door with a hand by your head and his knee planted against your thighs. He was skilled, as you had thought, and instead of feeling anxiety, you felt a strange sense of comfort. Your knees buckled as you felt his body heat envelop yours.

“Y-yes,” You said softly, nearly whimpering as you tried to restrain your hips from bucking into Fred’s leg. You felt ridiculous at your rampant desperation and tried miserably to keep your composure. Fred was delighted. He captured your lips into his and you sank into his plush warmth. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer to deepen the kiss. Despite the rational side of you telling you to stop kissing your best friend, the deliciously irrational side was indulging in how kissing Fred felt like an electric current. His free hand snaked to your waist, gentle yet firm with possession. 

As your tongues tangled, you savored the taste of Fred's lips, tinged with the subtle flavor of mint from the gum he had been chewing earlier and a general candied sweetness. The mint mixed with his wild scent of firewood smoke and woody cologne, driving you absolutely insane. You tilted your head back without any protest to allow Fred access to your neck. He deftly nipped at the sensitive skin between your neck and jaw, drawing out your whimpers even more. Your hands dragged slowly from his neck down to his broad chest until they finally landed hooked in his belt loops. You ghosted your hands over the free edge of his trousers, mindlessly tracing the space between his pants and boxers. You moved your hand down further, gently teasing his growing bulge. Fred grunted with frustrated desire and sucked down on your neck hard. 

You blindly tugged at his belt with a matched desperation to free him. Fred's hands quickly joined yours, fumbling with his belt buckle in a frantic rush. As it finally came loose, you yanked it free and tossed it aside, the metal clinking as it hit the floor. Your fingers trembled as you worked on the button of his jeans, while Fred's mouth continued its assault on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses.

"Merlin, I've wanted this for so long. You are… unreal," Fred breathed against your skin, his voice strained with need. You thought he was speaking out of desire, for there was no way your childhood friend thought of you the same way you did him. He worked the buttons of your blouse loose and he couldn’t help himself from tearing his mouth away from your body to savor the sight. Before you could fully undo his jeans, he placed an imposing hand over yours. “Ah, ah. Your lesson begins here. Get on your knees.”

With an obedience purely fueled by desperation, you nodded at Fred while looking up at him through your eyelashes. You dropped to your knees while keeping your hands on his hips. A small part of you wanted to impress him, so you finally tugged his jeans and boxers off in one go.

“Eager student, aren’t you? Very Ravenclaw of you,” Fred grinned with a humored sarcasm. With a strange fondness, he caressed your cheek before raking his fingers through your hair so that he could gather it all back into a firm hold. You looked at his member nervously, trying to keep your eyes from widening. You realized that his “object of affection” went further than his whimsical looks and personality. 

"Don't worry, love. We'll take it slow," Fred chuckled softly at your hesitation, but still he reassured you, his voice throaty with desire. You tentatively reached out, wrapping your fingers around his impressive length. Fred inhaled sharply at your touch, his grip tightening in your hair. Emboldened by his reaction, you began to stroke him slowly, marveling at the velvet-soft skin over steel hardness. "That's it. Now, use your mouth. Just the tip at first."

Heart racing, you leaned forward and took him between your lips. Fred groaned deeply, his hips jerking slightly. His fingers flexed tightly against your scalp. The salty taste of him filled your senses as you swirled your tongue experimentally. Your mind raked through what your friends had told you before and how to proceed. You leaned forward, taking more of him into your mouth while keeping your eyes trained on him for reaction. You hollowed your cheeks to apply a gentle suction as you began to bob your head. Fred’s hips twitched, fighting the urge to thrust. Instead, he tightened his grip on your hair and guided your movements that way. His free hand caressed your cheek, thumb brushing over your stretched lips. It seemed as if he couldn’t believe the situation either. 

“You… you don’t seem to need lessons,” Fred hissed. You kept looking up at him, utterly fascinated by his reaction. You were enjoying the way you were making him come undone. “Mmm, move your hand down… Merlin, just like that. Good girl.”

You obeyed, sliding your hand down to the base of his shaft as you continued your ministrations with your mouth. His words caused you to moan around him. You dragged a cupping hand over the furthest part of his manhood, which made Fred throw back his head with the loudest groan by far. Fred's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving as he fought to maintain control. The grip in your hair tightened further, almost to the point of pain, but the discomfort only fueled your arousal.

"Fuck," Fred groaned, his voice strained. "You're a natural, love. But if you keep this up, I won't last much longer."

Encouraged by his words, you redoubled your efforts, taking him deeper into your throat. You gagged slightly but with his guidance, you were determined to bring him pleasure. Fred's hips began to move more insistently, setting a rhythm that you eagerly matched.

"I'm close," Fred warned, his voice trembling with a moan. "You don't have to--"

You had no intention of stopping. You attempted to swallow what you could around him and Fred’s eyes squeezed shut tight. Humming in acknowledgement, Fred twitched at the vibration. With a hand around his shaft and the other at his sack, you could feel him close to ending the lesson you begged for. In one swift movement, Fred's hand reached up and grabbed your hair, pulling you away from his manhood. Your eyes widened in surprise and your gaze met his intense, dark eyes. Your gag was replaced with a gasp while you forgot how to breathe. Fred breathing was just as heavy and ragged as yours while he tried to regain his composure. His messy red hair clung to his aroused perspiration. He looked down at the sight of you on your knees, a small smile peeking through the corner of his lips. 

“Is something wrong? Fred-”

“I want to keep going. I don’t want to finish here, but Merlin, you are gorgeous,” Fred panted. You gave a wide eyed nod while Fred yanked you up. “It’s not fair that you’re basically fully clothed.”

“An easy fix,” Your voice was still hoarse from the earlier intrusion, but it didn’t distract you from fully shedding your clothes. Fred leaned foward to reseek your mouth and took your distraction as an opportunity to push you back into his bed. “Is this taking it too far?”

“Only if you think so,” Fred moved a gentle hand down towards your breasts, indulging himself in the soft mound of skin. Fred's eyes darkened with desire as he gazed down at your naked form. “Do you want to stop?”

"No, god, no,” You mewled. “This is… extra credit.”

“Mmm, extra credit,” Fred removed his mouth from your neck to laugh at your remark. You arched into his touch, craving more. 

"Please, Fred," You whimpered. You encouraged him by dragging your foot up against his thigh, pulling him closer with just your foot.

"Patience, love. I want to savor every inch of you," Fred chuckled against your skin again. “And I have to give you an ‘A’ for your earlier performance. This is just a testament to your good work.'“

True to his word, Fred took his time exploring your body with his lips and fingers. He lavished attention on your breasts, teasing your nipples to stiff peaks. His mouth blazed a trail down your stomach, pausing to dip his tongue into your navel. When he finally reached the apex of your thighs, you were trembling with need. Fred's hot breath ghosted over your most sensitive areas and he was having as much fun as you were. 

“I can’t… Stop teasing, please… Fred-” You whined pathetically as you bucked your hips up, desperate for friction. Fred only tsked and held you down with more conviction. His fingers traced delicate patterns on your inner thighs, sending shivers through your body. You squirmed beneath him, desperate for more contact. Fred's lips curled into a mischievous smile as he watched you writhe. Finally relenting, Fred lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on your most sensitive spot. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching off the bed. Encouraged by your reaction, Fred's tongue began to explore, alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks. 

Your hands found their way into Fred's hair, gripping tightly as waves of pleasure washed over you. Fred's fingers joined his mouth, slowly pushing inside you as his tongue’s pace continued. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as Fred’s mouth and fingers worked their magic. You wailed out an incoherent string of his name slathered with curses. You managed a peak at the mess of red hair between your thighs, only to be met with the cheeky smirk of a man drunk with desire. His smile is smug and glistening with your arousal, which only makes you arch your back higher. 

You surrendered yourself to the pleasure, a symphony of sounds and sensations that left you breathless and flushed with desire. A tightness built in your stomach and you voiced your climbing pleasure by tugging at Fred’s hair. Painfully, though you did not know which party it hurt more, Fred removed his mouth and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked nothing short of animalistic and he looked at you with primal pleasure. He helped himself up and kissed you again deeply, slowly lining himself up with you. You whimpered into the kiss, tasting a remnant of yourself on his lips as you felt the heat of him pressing against your entrance. Fred broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he locked eyes with you. His gaze was intense, filled with a mixture of lust and something deeper, more tender.

"Ready, love?" Fred murmured, pressing his forehead against you. You nodded frantically, beyond words at this point. Fred slowly pushed forward, stretching you deliciously as he entered. You both groaned in unison at the sensation, your bodies finally joining as one. Fred stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, his arms trembling slightly with the effort of restraint. You were beside yourself at this point.

"Move," You pleaded, rolling your hips to encourage him. Fred didn't need to be told twice. He began to thrust, starting with slow, deep strokes that had you gasping for air at each movement. In the dim light of the room, you could see the muscles on Fred’s back ripple as he moved, his body glistening with sweat. The veins on his neck bulged with exertion while his face was a mix of concentration and pleasure. The scent of sweat and sex mixed together, a heady aroma that filled the room and only made you dizzy with further desire. Your lips parted as you panted for air, tasting the sweetness of Fred's kiss still lingering on your tongue. You pulled his head back down to feel his lips again. The rhythmic sounds of skin against skin and heavy breathing filled the room, accompanied by the occasional moan or whimper of pleasure. Each thrust from Fred brought a new wave of pleasure, leaving you crying for wanting more.

Fred’s skin was hot against yours, his strong hands gripping onto your hips as he thrust into you. Your skin tingled with each movement, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Your fingers dug into the sheets beneath you, providing an anchor from falling off the edge too quickly. 

“You’re so good, princess. You’re an addiction,” Fred languished in your ear. “How badly have you wanted me? I want to hear you say it.”

“Forever… Merlin, I’ve had a crush on you forever. I’ve wanted this- for so long- ah!” You struggled with your words as your mind began to turn white hot with ecstasy. While you would’ve said anything to secure your release, you were wretchedly honest. Fred bit back a smirk while he snapped his hips with much slower pace. 

“Music. To. My. Ears,” Fred grunted with each movement of his hips. You began chanting his name again and clawed at his chest to stay grounded, but you had already begun to slip. “Come undone, princess. I want to see you make a mess of yourself. Because of me.”

Your body obeyed his command, trembling uncontrollably as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Fred's name fell from your lips in a breathy moan as your entire body lifted off of the bed. Your vision blurred, overwhelmed by the intensity of your release. Fred groaned deeply, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own climax.

"That's it, love. You're so beautiful like this," Fred heaved, his voice shaky with desire. As you came down from your high, Fred captured your lips in a searing kiss. In the moment, he pulled out and spilled himself onto your stomach with a labored breath. He collapsed next to you in exhaustion, begging for a second to recapture his thoughts. 

While Fred helped you clean yourself of him and in the midst of redressing, a small sense of dread replaced the crashing adrenaline. You couldn't help but wonder if this was just a one-time thing for Fred and how it would affect the next day, hell, even the next five minutes. The thought made your chest tighten with anxiety. As if sensing your unease, Fred pulled you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours, love?" Fred murmured, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin. 

"I just... I don't want this to be a mistake. For you, I mean," You croaked with a new sense of clarity. Fred's eyes widened in surprise before softening with understanding. He cupped your face in his hands, his gaze intense and sincere. 

"Listen to me, princess. This could never be a mistake. I've wanted you for so long, I can hardly believe this is real. If we make this work, it won’t change what we had," Fred assured with another kiss. He flattened your mussed hair and looked at you teasingly. “And if anything, this was just an education opportunity, right?”

“It was a good class,” Your heart fluttered from Fred’s reassurance. “Is there any homework I need to catch up on?”

“Oh, today was just an introduction to the syllabus, princess,” Fred bit his lip devilishly. “Ready for lesson two?”

[hazeyysworld]

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

character: george weasley x f! reader

genre: soft fluff

summary: staying with george after his “holy” wound

warnings: brief mentions of blood and his wound

words: 887

.・。.・゜✭・.

During the Hogwarts war, Mad-eye Moody had given Fred, George, Bill, Fleur, Hermione and Ron polyjuice potions to disguise themselves as Harry Potter.

George had gone with Lupin and soon was hit accidentally by Snape's sectumsempra spell which cut his ear off.

George had come back, weak, and was laying on the sofa bleeding thoroughly when you had noticed the commotion from the kitchen..

You let out a gasp, “George..” You say softly, rushing in from the kitchen. You had stayed at the Burrow with Molly.

George slowly moves his head to look up at you, offering you a smile albeit an incredibly weak one.

“Oh Georgie..” You whisper out quietly, nearly down at his side as Molly runs her fingers through his hair.

“How- how are you feeling?” You ask, resting your hand on his arm.

It takes him a moment to reply, “..Saint like..I’m holy Y/n..I’m holy..you get it?” He says, pointing at the hole where his ear was.

“You- you are pathetic George Weasley..” You softly say with a small smile, leaning your head onto the couch.

George chuckles softly, wincing as Molly carefully starts to clean his wound up. He looks at you gently, his chest still rising and falling irregularly.

”Yeah, I just wanted to make you smile is all.” He says, watching you lean your head on the couch by him.

You smile at his words, he always found a way to warm you up no matter the situation, “Get some rest George..” You whisper out, leaning up to place a kiss to his forehead as you watch his eyes slowly flutter shut, sleep overcoming him.

George slowly nods before falling asleep within minutes. As you continue to watch him, Molly pats your shoulder.

”He’ll be fine, dear. I’m surprised that boy is still so cheeky, given the circumstances.” She says, giving you a smile.

“Yeah..” You whisper out, finally moving from your position as you feel everyone else start to move and shift a bout.

Some hours pass, you sit leaning against the couch, watching George’s chest rise and fall as he sleeps.

George slowly stirs a few hours later, a small groan falling from his lips as he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees being your face.

”Hey..” He mutters tiredly, a groggy smile on his lips.

“Hi..” You say, a tired yet genuine smile on your face, reaching for his hand to lace your fingers together with his.

George smiles a little as you gently intertwine your fingers with his, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

”How long have I been out for?” He asks quietly, his eyes still on yours.

“Just a few hours..” You say, eyes wandering from his to the bandages wrapped around his head, “How are you feeling?”

He groans softly, slowly sitting up into a more upright position, pulling your hand gently into his lap and gently tracing his fingers along the back of it.

”I feel like I’ve been hit full force in the head with a bludger. Apart from that, I’m good.” He teases lightly.

“Right..of course..” You say with a giggle, looking up at him with a smile.

George gently grins at the sound of your laughter, his eyes fixated on your face as he continues tracing his fingers along the back of your hand in his lap.

”You look beautiful, love.” He says quietly, tilting his head to the side slightly to look at you properly.

“Thank you George..” You whisper out, “You look quite…holy..” You say with a grin.

George laughs out softly, rolling his eyes playfully at your comment before gently poking your side with his free hand.

”Oh shush, you know you’d prefer me with both of my ears.”

“Oh..I’m not too sure about that Georgie..” You say with a smile, “The one ear thing is really starting to grow on me..”

“Oh yeah, you find it attractive, do you?” He asks, grinning at you as he leans closer to you and lowers his voice. His grin only grows wider as he notices your cheeks beginning to turn a light pink.

“Oh definitely..” You say with a giggle, eyes twinkling as you look at him.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Harry sits awake nearby, thinking about how in his fourth year George was too scared to ask you to the Yule Ball, so you asked him yourself.

He remembers the moment exactly, the way George’s face turned as red as his hair as you leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek.

He remembers the way Dean, Lee, and others had teased and made fun of the Weasley twin.

He remembers in his first year when George was too afraid to even speak to you when you would approach them, he would stutter and look away awkwardly- not knowing how to speak to a girl, let alone his crush.

Harry remembers the first time he saw you two in Hogsmeade, your fingers laced with George’s, a huge smile on his face as he looked down at you.

In Harry’s eyes you two were to get married, to survive the war and spend the rest of your time together.

In George’s eyes, you were the witch he wanted to stay with for the rest of your lives.

.・。.・゜✭・.

notes: yay! first fic in the books, hoping to put more out soon- sorry if it wasn’t too good! please send in any requests!

[allthesmutl0vers]

Hi! I have a request if you accept.

George and the reader have been dating (sort of secretly) for a while now. The reader is someone who falls outside the typical, generic Slytherin image. She is kind and calm (well, mostly). Until some of her rude bully friends started messing with George, his family and this 'blood traitor' thing about the Weasley name. This is a definite turning point. The reader definitely proves to everyone that she is truly a Slytherin. She shows her scary and cruel side to those who deserve it. From now on, no one will mess with the ones she loves, she can do anything for the guy she loves. Possessive and protective. George's jaw drops... and after all this they may need to find some privacy.

Oo! I love this idea!!😃 Thank you so much for sending it to me 💗Let me see what I can do. Sorry this took me a day to get to, love.

MDNI, NSFW, 18+.

Requests: OPEN

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 🫶

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,959

Summary: Nobody in Slytherin could ever imagine being caught dead with someone from another house, let alone from Gryffindor. Nobody but you, at least. You've always kept to yourself, especially when it comes to your relationship with a certain Weasley twin. Everyone, including even your friends, wonders how you ended up in Slytherin. When those same friends go too far with their deplorable insults, you decide to show them exactly why you were sorted into Slytherin.

TW: Bullying, Name calling, Violence, Smut (P! in V! -You're on birth control), Oral (F! Receiving), Praise, Possessive!George, Protective!George, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Breeding adjacent?- Not sure about this last tw, lmk in the comments if that's what it is.

Song Inspo: Click here (River: Bishop Briggs)

"I'm just saying, this school has gone to the dogs," Pansy huffs. "I mean, seriously, how could Dumbledore think having a werewolf as a professor is a good idea?"

"It was last year, Pansy. Get over it," I mutter as I try to focus on my book. She's nice enough, but I swear to Merlin, she can never just sit in silence. And when she can't think of anything to talk about, she somehow finds a way to talk shit about someone else.

"Didn't peg you for a half-breed sympathizer," pansy quips, leaning back on her hands as we sit in the courtyard.

I roll my eyes, cursing myself for saying anything at all. Because now I'm sucked into a conversation I never wanted to be a part of. "I could say the same thing to you. Isn't your family currently harboring Greyback?" I ask with a raised brow over my book.

"Hush up about that, will you?" Pansy asks as she looks around the courtyard in a panic. "Nobody is supposed to know."

I do my best to ignore her, trying to go back to my book. But when I see George Weasley come into the courtyard with his twins and a band of Gryffindors, and a mix of the other two houses, I can't pull my eyes away.

I watch as he pulls something out of his pocket. It lights up like a sparkler, and he begins to toss it back and forth with Fred while the others around them 'oo' and 'ahh.' Probably the Whiz-Bangs he was telling me about in our last little rendezvous in the room of requirement, a new invention that they've been working on. His eyes meet mine and he smiles, biting the corner of his lower lip as he catches it again.

I smile back, wishing more than anything that I could just go up and be with him publicly. George has mentioned wanting to go public with our relationship, but being a Slytherin princess makes it a little more than difficult.

Going back generations, all of my family has been sorted into Slytherin. And although my parents are a little more progressive than most Slytherin alumni, they've made it clear how they feel about me dating outside of my house.

"Ugh, look them over there. Tossing around that garbage," Pansy huffs, annoyed.

Before I can say anything, she's already up and walking over with Daphne Greengrass. Shit. I stand up, too, and walk behind them as we approach the small circle that has started to form around Fred and George. "Hey!" Pansy shouts, shoving her way through.

Fred and George look between me and Pansy with confused looks and a knot of nerves forms deep in my stomach. "What do you want, Parkinson?" Fred bites back.

"Surprised you managed to slither your way out of the dungeon," George adds with a smirk.

Pansy crosses her arms over her chest with a huff. "How dare you talk to me like that," she spits at them with a venom-laced tone. "I'm just shocked you managed to actually make something. Aren't you failing nearly everything? What's up? Weasley's can't afford a tutor?" She quips.

My fists clench at my sides. It's not fair to blame the children for parents not making more money. Especially when they're the kindest people in the world. I watch George's jaw tick with annoyance. "Better than sucking dick to get a good grade. Or were you on your knees in front of Snape for another reason?" George fires back.

I purse my lips to keep myself from smiling. Nobody is supposed to know that except for me, but the look on Pansy's face makes it well worth telling George about.

Pansy's face turns bright red as everyone around us gasps and starts whispering among themselves. "Shut up," she seethes with anger. She turns to me, and I see her nostrils flare. She knows I had to be the one who told him. "How fucking dare you?" She spits at me. "You promised not to tell anyone. And you tell that filthy fucking blood traitor?!" She practically screams.

Something inside of me snaps, and I look over at George, who is already drawing his wand. I shake my head softly before turning back to Pansy. "Actually, he just guessed. You just outed yourself," I quip, taking a step closer to her. "And don't fucking talk about him like that," I snap at her.

"You're defending him?!" She gasps, pointing to George. "You're a Slytherin, for Merlin's sake. Have some fucking class," she says with disgust. "Talking with blood traitors," she shakes her head. "What would your parents say?"

Everyone around us falls silent. I've never talked this much. Most of these people have probably never heard me talk at all. "You're one to talk about class, Parkinson," I step closer to her. "Your family is so fucking inbred it's a miracle you're even able to write your name."

Pansy begins to shake with anger as she draws her wand, and I draw mine, too, holding it at my side. "You disgust me. The fact you can call yourself a Slytherin with that filthy mud-blood of a mother is beyond me," she snaps. "And defending a blood traitor to top it off?" She scoffs with disgust.

I grip my wand tight. "Say blood traitor one more time, and I'll remind you just how much of a Slytherin I am."

Pansy clenches her jaw before she opens her mouth. "Blood-"

"Flipendo!" I flick my wand, throwing Pansy back five feet and making her land on her ass. Everyone laughs, including Fred and George.

Pansy stands up in a hurry, brushing off her skit as she aims her wand at me. "Locomotor Wibbly!" she flicks her wand at me, casting the jelly-legs jinx.

George steps in front of me, dodging the jinx with a wave of his wand. "That's enough!" He yells, making everyone fall silent again. Fred and George don't yell in anger, so it catches everyone, myself included by surprise.

"I got it, Georgie," I say without looking at him as I move to stand in front of him. "Levicorpus!" I jinx Pansy, holding her up in the air by her ankles with a dangle of my wand. She screams, frantically trying to cover herself with her skirt. "Had enough?" I ask her with a bite in my tone.

"Let me down!" She screams as everyone points and laughs at her granny panties. Don't try to jinx someone on laundry day.

"That doesn't sound like an apology," I taunt with a smirk as I turn, waving my wand and Pansy over the fountain, holding her a few inches above the water.

"I'm sorry!" Pansy screams as I feel George put a hand possessively on my waist.

"Don't apologize to me," I taunt, leaning into George's touch. Fuck what anyone says.

Pansy looks at George and Fred, who moves to stand at George's side. "I'm sorry!" She cries with tears falling as she hangs upside down over the fountain.

I smirk and pull my wand back, breaking the invisible rope that holds her upside down and she falls into the fountain with a splash. I walk over to the fountain, leaning over the side. "Don't ever let me hear you say shit about any of them again. Got it?" I spit at her as she drips with water.

Pansy nods without a word, sniffling back her tears. I let out a deep breath and turn to see the large crowd that gathered as I dueled with Pansy. "Show's over," I tell them all as I walk up to George.

"Damn, didn't know you had that in you," Fred jokes, running a hand through his red hair.

I huff a laugh. "You know what they say about the quiet ones," I smirk. "I couldn't let her stand there and talk shit about you guys or your family," I tell them both before turning to look up at George. "Let alone my boyfriend," I say softly, admitting what we are aloud for the first time.

George smiles wide and pulls me into his chest. "Finally ready to admit it, huh?" He chuckles, the vibration of it reverberating against my chest as I wrap my arms around his waist.

"Maybe," I shrug and smile looking up into his eyes.

George bites his lip and leans down to my ear, his breath sending pleasurable shivers down my spine as he speaks softly in my ear. "As much as I would love to show you off right now, I need you."

My thighs clench at his words as he pulls back to look into my eyes. "Room of requirement?" I tease.

"That or I take you right here, show everyone who you belong to. But better decide quick, angel."

I chuckle and roll my eyes. "Room of requirement it is."

George leads me through the castle with his hand wrapped tightly around mine, and for the first time, I don't mind giving people a glimpse into my personal life. All of the whispers about George Weasley being with a Slytherin girl roll right off of my back. They don't matter. All that matters right now is getting to where we're going and George blowing my back out.

The door to the room of requirement opens and we walk inside to see the usual lay it that it knows we need.

A bed along the wall, with the silkiest sheets I have ever felt in my life, a small bathroom to clean up in, and a table with a chair. Not really sex up for sex. It appears to be for a student who needs their own room for the night. But it's perfect for what we need it for.

George kisses me as he walks me backward to the bed. The back of my knees hit the bed, and he lifts me up by my thighs without missing a beat. George lays me back on the bed, my head landing on the pillow as he kneels between my thighs.

I moan as George kisses down my jaw, trailing kisses to the sweet spot behind my ear and down my neck, nipping and sucking the tender skin as the blood beneath his lips rushes through my veins.

George props himself up with one arm as his free hand slides up my thigh, gripping it tightly right at the apex. "I've waited so long to make you mine," he groans as my hands work to unbutton his pants between us.

"I was already yours," I breathe as I get his pants undone.

George's fingers slide my panties to the side as he runs his fingers through my folds, landing on my clit and eliciting a moan to leave my lips. "But now everyone knows you belong to me," he moans softly as I pull his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock and pump it in my hand.

"My parents are going to lose their fucking minds," I moan when he inserts two fingers inside of me as his thumb works my clit.

George smirks and leans down to press a kiss to my lips. "Then you can stay with me and mine," he says like a promise. "Let them lose it, I'll be your shield."

I flip us over so I'm straddling his hips, grinding myself down on him. "Careful, Georgie. Or else I might start to think you're in love with me," I tease as I unbutton my shirt and toss it aside.

George sits up, his chest flush with mine as I straddle him. He reaches around me, kissing my chest as he removes my bra. "Would that be such a bad thing, angel?" George teases as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth and starts to suck, nipping the sensitive peak with his teeth.

My head falls back as my fingers run through his hair, pulling him back, and he releases my nipple with a 'pop.' "Only if you don't mean it," I moan softly.

George groans with pleasure. He removes the rest of our clothes with a flick of his wand and impales me on his hard, waiting cock, making me gasp loudly. "Does it feel like I mean it?" He growls, his hand wrapping around to the back of my hair and pulling my head back.

I lift myself up and thrust back down on him, taking him deep inside of me. "Fuck, yes," I moan.

George grips my hip with a bruising force as he works me on top of him. "Then say it. Say you love me," he demands in a husky voice.

"I love you," I moan as he releases his grip on my hair just enough for me to meet his gaze. "Fuck, I love you, George."

George moans as his hand moves from my hair to the back of my neck, pulling me down with him as he lays back and thrusts his hips into mine. "God, I love you, too," he moans. "Such a good girl for me," he groans as his free hand lands on my ass with a hard smack.

I gasp and moan as the sting slowly melts into pleasure, and he does it again. "Yes, George," I pant as he thrusts up into me with a brutal pace.

George flips us, removing his cock from me and diving between my thighs. He throws my legs over his shoulders, and he holds my hips down, and his tongue lands on my clit. "Fuck!" I cry out as my hands grip his hair. "George!"

George uses his fingers to hold my folds apart, opening me up more for him, lapping at my clit with his whole tongue, and shaking his head, threatening to send me right over the edge. My legs clamp around his face, and he moans right onto my clit, adding vibration to top everything else off. The overstimulation is too much, and my fingers tug at his hair, desperate to be free and also not wanting him to stop what he's doing.

"G-G-George!" I cry out with a whimper as my legs start to shake around his head. "Please!"

George grips my thighs from underneath and pushes them up to my chest. "Don't interrupt my meal," he warns me with a dark gaze. "Now keep those fucking legs up."

I hold the metal bedframe above my head with a white-knuckled grip, and George keeps my legs pushed up to my chest. "You wanna cum, angel?" George teases me as he flicks my clit with an annoying soft touch with his tongue.

"Yes, George, please," I beg helplessly as my back arches.

"Then do it. Cum on my face like the good girl you are for me," he taunts before his tongue laps at my clit again. His words and his tongue send me over the edge. My toes curl, and my back and neck arch so far I'm scared they'll break, but I can't bring myself to care if they do.

After George rides me through my orgasm, he leans over me, lines himself up with my entrance, and thrusts into me harshly. "Fuck!" I moan loudly as he leans down to nip at my neck.

"You look so beautiful with my cock buried inside of you," he moans as he holds my thighs. "Think you can cum for me again, angel?"

I shake my head. "I- I can't," I moan pathetically, already feeling another one build. I grips his wrists as his hands hold my thighs up to my chest.

"Mm, I think you can," he teases. He knows I can. He does this every time. It's a game to us, I tell him I can't cum again, and he drags another one out of me. He punctuates with another hard thrust, and I swear I can feel him in my guts with the angle he's fucking me. "Hands on the bedframe," he demands.

I reach above my head, gripping the metal bedframe again. "Such a good girl for me," George moans as he pulls my legs up to rest on his shoulders and leans down, forcing me to take him deeper. "Want me to fill you up, angel?" He teases.

"Yes, fuck, yes!" I moan loudly as he fucks me hard.

"Beg for it," George says sternly, slowing his thrusts to a teasing pace.

I whimper underneath him, keeping my hands above my head. "Please, Georgie. Please fill me with your cum," I beg pathetically, the way he can make me.

"Fuck, I love hearing you beg," George moans as his thrusts quicken again, slamming into me harder.

The tether inside of me begins to fray, ready to snap once again. "George, I'm gonna cum again," I pant with a moan as my eyes roll back.

One of George's hands grips the back of my neck. "Me too, angel. Eyes up, baby," he demands as his thrusts begin to stagger.

My hands leave the bedframe, gripping his arms as he thrusts into me again, and our orgasms hit at the same time. The room a symphony of moans, pants, and a mix of each other's names. Once we ride out our highs, George lays down next to me on the bed, letting out a heavy breath as he pulls me to his side, my head resting on his shoulder. Fuck the last class of the day, and fuck whatever consequences that come from us not being careful as we snuck in here together.

And a big 'fuck you' to my parents if they have anything negative to say when they hear about my relationship. They can get fucked, because I know I will be.

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Room for two (NSFW)

Fred Weasley x fem reader x George Weasley

Fred and y/n have been dating for a whole but she still struggles to tell her boyfriend and his brother apart. The twins (being the horny, mischievous fuckers they are) decide to use that to their advantage and have a little fun. What can I say, Fred likes to watch…

TW: nsfw (under 16’s dni), mean dom Fred, mean dom George, degradation, no incest, sharing, voyeurism, spanking, slight bondage, no prep (evil boys 😏), unprotected sex, masturbation (male), face smacking, cum swallowing. I think that's everything.

A/N: This is not only my first Weasley fic, but also my first time writing smut, yay! Italic bold speech is a flashback except for the word ‘Kitten’. Read and it’ll make more sense lol.

1.4K words

“C’mon love, me and Georgie have missed you. Spend the weekend with us above the shop, it’ll be fun”

When the brilliant Fred Weasley invites you to stay with him and his brother above their shop in Diagon Alley, there’s really no option other than yes. You had been dating him for nearly three years and you loved him more than anything else in the world. A nice, quiet weekend with the Weasley twins would do you some good…

…but Fred had other plans.

____________________________________________

You arrived on Friday and walked into the shop, seeing one of the ginger haired twins behind the counter and the other stocking a shelf nearby, neither one aware of your presence. Fuck, which one was which? Maybe if you let them notice you first, you'd be able to tell. You pottered around the shop, browsing the shelves of different potions and colourful boxes containing all kinds of mischief, trying to attract the attention of the twin stocking the shelf. He looked up with a smirk and instantly knew what you were up to, and he didn't plan on revealing who he was just yet. He knew that Fred would be alright with this, they had discussed it the night before. He can still remember Fred’s words clear as day:

“She’ll love every minute of it, she can be a needy little slut when you give her what she wants”

“I've seen how she looks at you, she wants us both but she likes to act all innocent and pretend that she doesn't”

“You can have her for the night, as long as I get to watch. She’s my dirty little whore after all”

The twin in front of you simply smirked, knowing that with one simple nickname, you’d think he was your loving boyfriend. Getting you into his bed would be easier than Fred said it would be.

“Go on up, Kitten, and wait for me on the bed”

George smirked at how fast you moved up the stairs to the flat above the shop. He finished stocking the shelves before shooting Fred a wink and following you up. Fred had been watching everything. This was his idea in the first place, and he wasn't going to miss a single thing. You always acted so innocent when he talked about George, but he knew how you felt. He could practically see the way your mouth watered when you would watch them at Quidditch practice. He could see the way you rubbed your legs together when they sat either side of you in the common room. Now that you had all graduated, he had promised George a turn with you.

As soon as the shop shut and all of the customers had left, he would go upstairs and enjoy the show.

____________________________________________

You didn't even have time to enter Fred’s room and get undressed before George had come up behind you, gripping your waist tightly and sucking harshly on your neck. His right hand trailed up, practically ripping the buttons apart on your dress to reveal your bra covered tits beneath. He would never get sick of looking at them. When he’d sit next to you and look down your shirt, knowing that all of your attention was on Fred. He couldn’t help himself. George ripped off your bra, groping your bare tits harshly. He listened in on every gasp, every moan, and every whimper that you made, only becoming rougher as he pinched and tugged on your nipples.

“F..Fuck..Freddie…”

George chuckled darkly and tore your dress off, followed by your soaked panties. He pushed you onto the bed, smirking mischievously at the way your legs opened wide, your glistening cunt on full display for him. Poor little slut, George thought, Getting this turned on for her boyfriend's brother.

“On your hands and knees, now”

George growled, pushing his suit trousers down and getting behind you. He ran his hands over your ass before bringing his hand down swiftly, making you yelp from the stinging sensation. But he didn’t care, George seemed transfixed by the way your ass jiggled and the skin turned bright red. He kept spanking each cheek, making sure to leave handprints and a painful memory whenever you sat down.

“Freddie, Please…been so good, please fuck me. Need you so badly” you whined, your thighs rubbing together to give your needy clit friction.

“You’re such a desperate, whiney little slut. Bet you’d love nothing more than my cock deep inside of your slutty cunt. Keep begging, beautiful, let me hear how much you need me” George started stroking his cock to your pleas. He’d give you what you wanted eventually, he’d been dreaming of your tight pussy ever since his brother introduced you to the family. The younger twin suddenly had an idea and pulled your arms behind your back, tying them securely together with his tie.

He gripped your joined arms tightly and rammed his cock inside your wet pussy. The stretch made you yelp in pain and squirm in a (not so) desperate attempt to flee, but George only held you tighter, a cruel pout on his lips.

“Thought this is what you wanted, little love. Don't tell me you can't be a good girl for me now”

His cock was so deep, hitting that spongy spot that made you clench around him and shut your eyes tight. His hands gripped your skin with a bruising force, you were so close…

“Well, well, well, look who’s enjoying themselves” an identical voice quipped, but it wasn't from above you, it came from the doorway.

The older Weasley twin stalked close, making you squirm in embarrassment of being caught by your boyfriend's brother. But he only knelt in front of you with a devilish smirk.

“Guess my little kitten really is a slut for it, huh?”

Fuck

Your eyes widened as everything seemed to click into place. The man in front of you was your boyfriend, the man with his cock pressing deep inside of you was his younger twin brother. A pout spread across your lips, thinking that Fred was mad at you for being underneath George. But Fred simply got up and sat in the chair across from the foot of the bed, getting comfortable but exposing his hard cock.

“Go on Kitten, show Georgie just what a little slut you are. Put on a show for us”

George smirked and snapped his hips forward, knocking the breath from your lungs. He started his brutal pace that rubbed your insides raw. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you buried your head into the soft sheets beneath you. But George wasn't having any of that. He pulled you up by your hair, your back pressing against his chest, causing his cock to somehow push deeper into your cunt. You hissed at the sting from your scalp.

“Such a spoiled brat. Doesn't even say thank you for her lovely surprise” George spat next to your ear, his other hand coming up to lightly smack your face. “What do you say, slut?”

“Thank you, Freddie…Feels s..so good”. Your moans got louder with every word.

Fred pumped his cock, trying to match the pace his brother had set so that he could pretend that he was the one fucking you. But he knew you’d need more, you were his insatiable little slut. Fred simply looked into your desperate eyes and grunted through gritted teeth…

“Cum for me, Kitten”

At his command, you let the blinding pleasure take over your entire body. Your velvety walls clench around George, pushing him over the edge too. You could feel his cum spurt deep inside of you, staining your walls. He let go of your hair and you dropped forward onto the mattress. Fred got up and walked over to your fucked out body and you immediately opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, smiling as you felt his warm, salty sweet cum hit your tongue and lips. You swallowed all that he had given you and licked your lips, collecting every last drop. Fred stroked your hair softly.

“My turn, kitten”

[httpvomitello]

Y/N: Fred, I just found out that my Patronus is a pigeon.

Fred: Really? Well, I think it suits you.

Y/N: How exactly does a pigeon suit me?

Fred: Because you’re always stealing bits of my lunch.

Y/N: ...That’s it, I’m getting a new boyfriend.

Fred: Too late, love. We’re bound for life now.

[filmsmakkari]

your highness

fred weasley x slytherin!reader

Summary: When Slytherin beats Gryffindor in the final quidditch match of the season, Fred Weasley decides to give the Slytherin princess a little reward

CW: NSFW, semi public sex(?), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praising.

Author's Note- As usual, I had a black reader in mind, so (Y/N) is described as having braids, but that's the only physical description. Anyone can imagine themselves in this fic. Also emmm I have never written smut in my life saurrr... I hope this makes you horny and I'm sorry if it doesn't!

To say that (Y/N) (L/N) hated Fred Weasley would be an understatement.

The Princess of Slytherin was in the prefect’s restroom, trying to wash the red and gold dye out of her hair. The last quidditch game of the autumn term was the next day, and Fred fucking Weasley thought it would be funny to make a mockery of the Slytherin team captain by having Peeves throw ink at her as she tried to run down the moving staircases. 

“That bloody…” she muttered as she roughly scrubbed her scalp. She’d been at it for what felt like hours when the dye finally washed away, and the raven-winged color of her long braids was finally visible again. 

Enraged, (Y/N) stomped out of the bathroom, envisioning ways to get her revenge. In her anger and fantasies of all the means of torture she could inflict upon the irritating prankster, she was barely aware of her feet carrying her down to the ever-calming bioluminescence of the  Slytherin common room. She waved her wand violently, blowing around a stack of papers and knocking over a desk, catching the attention of Blaise Zabini. 

The boy seemed slightly frightened as he said, “Hey (Y/N/N), you alright?”

(Y/N) huffed with irritation. “Oh, I’m more than alright. I’m ready to knock Weasley off his bloody broom.”

-

The Great Hall was alive with conversation. Some students excitedly cast charms, creating fireworks with their house colors and animals, while others feasted on fruits and vegetables in preparation for the big match. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor games were always the most anticipated. The extreme disdain between the two teams brought out the absolute best in them as players. Even if it was occasionally violent, it made for a great game. 

Fred and George Weasley sauntered into the hall with the typical swagger of Gryffindors, scanning the tables and admiring the displays from the students. As Fred eyed the Slytherin table, his gaze fell upon her. There in her quidditch sweater, brown knee-high boots, and a horribly tempting skirt, the Slytherin Princess, who’d earned her title by getting the best grades in her house, being captain of the quidditch team, and being so ridiculously beautiful that even the proudest Gryffindors tried their luck with her, was sitting on the table, locked in conversation with Blaise Zabini and Emma Vanity- the Slytherin chasers.

“Discussing a new and improved strategy for the pitch?” Fred asked, approaching her. “I might as well tell you now, you’re wasting your time.”

(Y/N) turned to him with an eye roll.  “Keep taunting me, Weasel. It’s the most satisfaction you’ll get today.”

“Keep dreaming. Tell me, how’d you like my little gift yesterday?” Fred asked, resting his hands on the table and leaning close to her face.

(Y/N) hummed. “To be honest I’d expected more from you, beater. You couldn’t even do the job yourself. That scared of little old me?” 

“You wish. You’ll see out there today. Tell you what. If you win, which you won’t, I’ll reward you,” Fred smirked.

“Please, what could you possibly have that I want?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Too bad you’ll never find out.” Fred winked and walked over to the Gryffindor table, filling (Y/N) with so much irritation that it made her face hot.

-

Fred Weasley was eating his words.

The match was over before it began, the Slytherin players flying like bullets, (Y/N) ’s strategy working to absolute perfection, giving (Y/N) the perfect opportunity to catch the snitch without hesitation, winning the last game of the season.

The after-party was a blur of green and silver, fireworks, and cheering. One second (Y/N) was being hoisted up in the air by her teammates while they chanted her name; the next, she was playing games with giggle juice and fire whisky with her classmates. The snake lair was on fire with passion and excitement. While (Y/N) was reveling in it all, she had another celebration in mind. While her friends chanted so loud that the paintings were all forced to cover their ears, (Y/N) quickly slipped out of the common room and skipped happily up the stairs with a clear destination in mind.

As the sleeping form of the fat lady came into view, (Y/N) suddenly realized she had no actual plan. She couldn’t get into the Gryffindor common room, and even if she could, what would she do? Find Weasley in his dorm room and slap him? Cast a spell turning all the furniture silver and green to boast Slytherin pride? Steal Fred’s clothes while he was in the shower and- oh. Somewhat embarrassed at how eager she’d been to go to the Gryffindor common room and at how her thoughts kept wandering back to Fred, (Y/N) quickly turned around and began to go back to her dorm but was quickly stopped in her tracks.

Standing before her was the very person who’d been nagging at her thoughts all night. There was Fred Weasley, with dripping wet red hair and no shirt, looking down on her with irritation and amusement.

“Well well,” he said tauntingly, stepping closer and closer to her until her back was pressed against the wall. “Just what is the snake princess doing so close to the lion’s den? Came here to gloat?” Heat was radiating off of him. He was angry about the match.

(Y/N) swallowed, suddenly nervous, her usual Slytherin pride and confidence nowhere to be found. “As a matter of fact, Weaselbee, I’m here to see you. I told you I’d win, I’m here to claim my reward.”

Fred raised an eyebrow at this. He walked over to the fat lady, knocking on the portrait softly. The fat lady awoke with a jump, giving Fred a frustrated glare.  “Sorry about this,” said Fred. “Iced Mice.” The fat lady hesitated. “And just what are you doing bringing her in here?”

(Y/N)’ s bite finally returned as she spoke, “I can show you better than I can tell you. How about a charm for taking the tongues of bad singers?” Fred chuckled at that.

“Why, I never!” said the fat lady as she finally swung open the door.

Fred took hold of (Y/N) ’s hand as he walked in, dragging her behind him.

(Y/N)’ s words were full of venom as she whisper-shouted, “Just what do you think you’re doing, you slimy-”

“Just be quiet for once, princess.”

Indignation swelled in (Y/N) ’s chest, but she obeyed. Though she toothlessly fought back, attempting every now and then to snatch her arm away from him, deep down, she wanted to see where this would go.

Fred dragged her to a dark corner, taking her by her hips and lifting her onto a desk. 

“What the hell are you doing?” (Y/N) asked with a furious look, but there was no bite behind the glare. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was afraid he’d hear it. 

“You came for your reward, didn’t you? You were so desperate for it that you were willing to cheat during the match,” he said, moving her hair and leaning into her ear.

(Y/N) shuddered at the closeness before pushing him away. “I didn’t cheat, Weasley, the hell are you talking about?”

Fred hummed, smoking at her and placing his arms on either side of her, caging her in.

(Y/N) scoffed. “This is ridiculous, I can’t believe I wasted my time coming here. Have a nice life carrot top.”

(Y/N) pushed him again, hopping off the desk and starting to walk away from him, but Fred quickly grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back into him and placing a wet, passionate kiss on her lips. (Y/N)’ s eyes widened in shock as Fred Weasley, the person she hated most since first year, slipped his tongue into her mouth and lifted her back onto the desk. Shocked and confused, she pushed him away a third time.

Fred looked deeply into her eyes, a tendril of red hair hanging over his eyes, making him impossibly more attractive. “Oh c’mon, love, don’t act like you don’t want it too. Like you haven’t wanted it since fourth year when you walked in on me showering after the quidditch cup.”

(Y/N)’s face got hot at the memory. “I hate you. You hate me. I’m the “princess of Slytherin,” remember?”

“Well then, your highness, allow me to serve you,” said Fred, dropping to his knees.

“What are you doing?” (Y/N) asked, her voice shaking as Fred ran his hands up and down her thighs, barely past her skirt. The tight little green dress and those white knee-high socks she was wearing had been driving him crazy since he first saw them, and he wanted nothing more than to see what was hidden underneath them.

“I’m rewarding you, even if you did cheat like a naughty little serpent, somehow I feel like this will be just as much as a reward for me.” He spread her legs wide, getting in between them and slowly peeling back her skirt.

(Y/N) breathed in sharply. “You have tormented me for six years, and now you expect me to let you use me to get off?’ 

“‘M sorry,” said Fred, kissing her thigh softly. (Y/N) shuddered. Fred kissed his way up to her sopping wet heat, muttering “I’m sorries” between every kiss. He finally made his way to her lacy undergarment, placing a soft kiss there. “You’re so wet, darling,” he said, popping his head out and looking at her, “It seems like you’ve already forgiven me.”

“In your bloody dreams, Weasley,” (Y/N) said with an unconvincing scoff. “I’ll hate you until the day I die.”

Fred hummed before quickly dipping his head back between her thighs, sliding her panties to the side, and licking a long stripe through her slick.

(Y/N) let out a throaty moan at the sensation, gripping the desk tightly. 

Fred chuckled against her, the vibrations making her breathe in deeply. “What was that about you hating me, love?” he asked.

“Shut up and get on with my reward, asshole.”

Fred smirked. “As you wish, your grace.”

Fred grabbed her thighs tightly and went to work, taking her clit into his mouth and sucking it like a starving man. (Y/N) moaned loudly before placing her hand over her mouth. Fred looked up at her, his sudden pause making her whimper. “No, no, no, darling. Don’t hide the noises.” He slowly pushed a single long finger inside her. “Let the whole school know.” Another finger. He looked into her eyes with a wicked smile. “Let them all hear how the snake princess let a lion make her scream.” He added two fingers that time and rapidly pumped in and out. And, just as he said she would, (Y/N) screamed. She went to cover her mouth again, but with his free hand, he took both of her wrists and held them in front of her. It burned, but it felt so good. (Y/N) began to move her hips slightly to increase the sensation, making Fred smile. “That’s it, beautiful, good girl. Good girl.” Fred spoke in a way that was almost patronizing. If she weren’t so close to the edge, she probably would have made some snarky remark, but (Y/N) couldn’t think straight as the pressure in her stomach was building up, and the Weasley boy was making her see stars. She let out another loud moan, throwing her head back as the pressure became unbearable. 

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” (Y/N) screamed as Fred’s fingers slammed into her g-spot, and she finally couldn’t take it anymore. (Y/N) let out a scream as she came, barely aware of anything around her. Her vision went blurry as the hot juices spilled out of her. Fred wasted no time re-attaching his mouth to her drenched cunt, licking up her juices until she was clean. “Mmm, sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Surprising for such a nasty girl,” Fred said, slapping her thigh, sliding her panties back over, and standing up.

He placed his arms on either side of her, staring at her intensely, his hair disheveled and her cum around his mouth. (Y/N) matched his gaze with equal intensity, her heart pounding, a million questions running through her head. After a few beats of silence, she finally spoke. 

“I still hate you.”

Fred actually laughed at that, shaking his head before looking back at her. “Beat me again, princess, and I’ll give you a better reward then my fingers and my  mouth,” he rasped into her ear before walking off to his dorm room, leaving her with her legs spread on a table of the Gryffindor common room.

“We’ll see how much you hate me then!”

[immobulusmalfoy]

Won't Say I'm in Love // Fred Weasley x F!Reader

Summary: In which the reader is best friends with the twins and they convince her to help them with something extra special for WWW. Warnings: Mentions of food and bodily harm, plus Umbridge. A/N: Look what I found in my drafts! A Freddie fic I forgot to post!

------------------------------------------------------

When you woke up Saturday morning after a seriously long week of classes, the first thing you wanted to hear was definitely not your name being yelled at top volume from a certain boisterous Weasley twin you happened to call your best friend.

“Fred, you better have a damn good reason for coming in here at this ungodly hour and waking me up with your screechy voice. And if you don’t shut it, I’m going to blast you with the nastiest hex I can think of,” you warned him without opening your eyes. You snuggled further into your pillows, but Fred snatched the blankets off your body.

“Wake up! I need your help with something.” Fred demanded.

“What the bloody hell do you want, Weasley? Can’t a girl get any sleep these days? I was dreaming,” you grumbled, body pulled into a ball to keep from freezing in the chilly air of the dorms. Fred groaned.

“You’re such a drama queen. I need your potions expertise.”

“Oh yeah?” You peered up at him, both eyes open, suddenly curious. “What for?”

“Y’know those Wonder Witch products you’ve been helping me and Georgie with? The secret ones even Granger and the rest don’t know about?” Fred started.

“You mean those ‘temporary’ love potions that took me two months to get right? The ones that you made me try and caused me to be in love with Lee for three miserable weeks before I figured out the issues? Those products?” you asked, embarrassed when you remembered what you had said and done during that time. It was mortifying.

Fred sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled an affirmative answer. “But this time is different!”

“How so?” You cross your arms, now fully awake. You glanced to the side of your bed, hoping Fred had the decency to at least have brought you breakfast or caffeine or both. You were disappointed to see that he’d done neither. “You’re not very good at convincing me. Didn’t even bring me food,” you grumbled.

“This one is a soulmate potion.” Fred grinned, eyebrows going up and down.

“A soulmate potion? What the bloody hell is that?”

“A potion that helps you find your soulmate? It’s not that difficult to grasp, mate. No one’s ever done it before!” Fred was animatedly explaining his thought process and you groaned as he laid out the plan.

“And I suppose you want me to test it once I brew it?” you sighed.

“Well, it would probably be best? Unless you want to test it on some first years? I’m sure they’d love to have a go. Who wouldn’t want to find their soulmate?” Fred’s eyes glittered with mischief.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” You grumbled as you rolled out of bed, blindly searching for a sweater to dispel the cold taking over your frame. You ended up with one of the Christmas sweaters Molly had knitted you over your pajamas causing Fred to grin.

“Let’s go, then!” He snatched you away down the stairs, which did turn into a slide, and eventually into the room of requirement where you’d set up a temporary testing space for your potions experiments and their various prank products. Much to your chagrin, George was already there.

“Hey, sweetheart. Got you some breakfast and a cuppa since this nitwit didn’t want to let you sleep.” George gestured to the potions table where he’d laid out the aforementioned items. You brightened immediately.

“Georgie, you’re now my favorite twin. Don’t you forget it.” You said, smacking a kiss to his cheek as you headed over to the table.

“And what am I?” Fred scoffed. You shrugged and held up your food. The tea was downed quickly as well as the beans on toast before you got to work making notes on what both boys wanted the potion to do.

Unlike the love potions you’d created for them, which had actually been a whole line of about five different versions that all did similar things, but still varied in results, this potion was going to be highly complicated.

Two weeks later, you finally had a prototype to give them. Fourteen days of little to no sleep and brewing more than sixty cauldrons of failed potions, except for this one. The potion swirled a nice purple color, but you’d designed it to taste a bit like butterbeer at the boys’ request. It was designed to have different results for each user, as well. To find their soulmates, they’d have different side effects. Some users might feel their soulmate’s pain, some might see only in black and white until they touched their soulmate, or have small identifying tattoos show up on their skin from their soulmate. Only one person would have to take the potion in order for them to figure out who their soulmate was, one bonus you were glad of.

“So, who wants to take the plunge and try it first?” You asked nervously. Fred grinned and handed the little bottle back to you across the Gryffindor table at breakfast. Some of the first years were watching from down the table and you eyed them cautiously. You never knew what some of them would try to get their hands on Wizard Wheezes’ prototypes, especially after they’d all gone bonkers for the Skiving Snackboxes and the silly hat that made your whole head invisible.

“As our lovely assistant, dedicated friend, and favorite classmate (sorry Lee), we figured we’d give you the honors of finding your soulmate first. It’s been ages since you’ve been on a date anyway.” Fred grinned.

“What my dear brother is trying to say is that we want you to be happy and we very much appreciate what you’ve done with our products so far, so we’d love for you to find the person who’s going to make you happier.” George smoothed over his twin’s remarks with a pointed glare at the other redhead.

“Fine. Take notes of what I say.” You snorted. The potion was downed with four sips, the flavor seeming to follow your directives. “The taste is decent, but could use some tweaking. Side effect is that I feel a bit woozy and I’m seeing a few black spots in my vision. I’m not sure if this will work, but it seems alright so far.”

“Do you feel any different? Are you seeing in black and white? Can you hear your soulmate’s words in your head? Did initials ink themselves onto your skin?” The twins bombarded you with questions which you tried to answer as they made notes on a parchment, but the truth was that nothing seemed to have happened. There was nothing that would suggest your potion worked or that it followed any of the soulmate stories muggle writers attempted to tell.

“I don’t feel any different. It may not have worked.” You sighed, eying the potion bottle as if it would tell you what was wrong with it. It couldn’t. You ran over the ingredients and your methods mentally, but even that didn’t give any clues.

“Quidditch practice, lads! Don’t make me yank you by ‘yer ears.” Angelina Johnson’s barking yell sounded from the other end of the table and your favorite twins groaned.

“We’ll discuss this later. We’ve got a quidditch captain to torment.” George grinned, both boys rushing away.

About two hours later, you were in the room of requirement again working on the potion and taking notes on the color and taste when a sharp pain started shooting through your right arm, the muscle throbbing.

“Shit,” you cursed, dropping the vial you’d been swirling. It shattered on the ground, glittering for a second before the room sucked the potion and the broken glass into the ground to clean it. “Thanks, room.”

The muscles in your upper arm throbbed, and you pulled up your sleeve to look at it, a gigantic bruise the size of a bludger forming under the skin. You stared at it in disbelief, then darted your eyes to the potion. It worked.

Somewhere out there, you had a soulmate and you’d just gotten their injury etched into your own skin. But then you started cursing yourself, because of course you happened to get the one effect you hadn’t really wanted.

“Why couldn’t it have been the tattoos or the black and white thing?” You muttered, moving back over to the table to make notes on the things you’d just discovered.

You were so lost in your studies and notes that you didn’t even notice the twins entering the room with Lee until they were right next to you.

“Any developments?” George asked, causing you to jump.

“Merlin’s beard!” You yelled, smacking him on the arm. Fred and Lee snickered from behind you both.

“Well?” Fred asked expectantly, his gaze sweeping over the table that was now covered with multiple cauldrons and a rack that you’d filled with at least twelve versions of the soulmate potion. He made to pick one up, but you swatted his hand away.

“I’ve made some developments, but those ones aren’t ready yet. So don’t touch my system, Weasley.”

“Alright, alright. Won’t touch ‘em. We’ve come to bring you down to dinner anyway. It’s getting late.” Fred said, guiding you towards the door.

“How long have I been in here?” you asked, forgetting that you’d forgotten the wrist watch your mum had gotten you so you had no clue what time it was or when you’d last eaten.

“Johnson kept them in practice for about five hours, so we missed lunch.” Lee remarked as he walked beside you, “George nearly got her with a bludger to get her to let us leave, but it got Fred in the arm instead.”

You froze, hearing what Lee had said, but the others didn’t seem to notice and you darted your eyes to Fred’s right arm. There was no way, right?

“Yeah, gave him a nasty bruise.” George winced, “Ah well, nothing a little bruise paste can’t clear up.”

“Was it that bad?” you asked shakily, hoping they wouldn’t notice the inflection to your voice. You needed more details, more time, to determine if what you suspected was true.

“Nah, just got a lump on my arm the size of that bludger. It’s pretty gnarly. I’ll use it to market the bruise paste later tonight. See if we can get some of the Gryffindors to add that to their purchase list.” Fred grinned, surreptitiously rubbing his arm. His right arm. The same arm that was sporting a bruise on your own body.

Dinner passed quickly with the twins talking to you and Lee about upcoming plans for the products you all were inventing when, all of a sudden, Lee stabbed Fred’s left hand hard with his fork, nodding his head at a Ravenclaw witch who had just entered the Great Hall. He’d been talking about her for weeks, but never made a move to ask her out despite his long-winded speeches of being a ‘lady-killer.’

The pain radiated on your own hand and you were horrified to see the marks from the tines on both the back of your hand and Fred’s, though he didn’t notice since he was too busy brandishing his own fork at Lee who’d surrendered quickly. You snatched your hand off the table, trying to focus on your pumpkin juice instead of the fight the boys were having, rolling your eyes at their stupidity.

Only George noticed your odd actions, but he very smartly didn’t say a word in your presence and you didn’t notice his pointed stares. You were trying to convince yourself, and failing, that what you really needed was a good night’s sleep and that you must be imagining things. But two injuries to Fred in one day and you receiving the aftermath of both of them just couldn’t be a coincidence.

But the topping on the cake was three days later when Fred landed himself in detention with Umbridge. You knew what she was going to make him do and so you waited in your bed for the letters to appear on the back of your hand, as you figured they would. It would be the final test to see if you were right about the soulmate potion and who it was pointing you towards.

And finally, there they were. A burning sensation took over your skin, making you feel like you’d been stung by a hundred bees as the cuts appeared on your skin, spelling out the phrase “I must not be a nuisance.” You gasped, the pain sharper than you’d expected. You hadn’t landed yourself in detention with Umbridge yet, but this was horrible. The pain made you cry, but the shock of your findings was almost worse.

Fred Weasley was your soulmate. There was no other explanation.

You laid back on your bed, clutching your hand, and closed your eyes. Fred couldn’t be your soulmate, you reasoned. For multiple reasons.

Number one, even though you’d had a horrible crush on him for the past year or so, he had never once seemed to indicate that he felt the same and you were never going to ask him. Number two, he had just broken up with Angelina a few months prior on summer holiday and tensions were still high between the two of them. You were sure that that was part of the reason she’d kept them in practice for so long the other night. Number three, the only logical thing was that he’d tampered with the potion so that it would point to him and so they could get a laugh.

All three things made you upset, so you were grateful when sleep claimed you for the night, and you were thankful that you didn’t hear any of your roommates come in either.

The next morning, the back of your hand was still mottled and you looked at it in shock. The pain was gone, but the scars were still there. There was no way you were going to be able to hide this without a glamor of some sort. So that’s what you did.

At breakfast, you were strangely quiet, even when the twins asked you for updates on the potion. You were hesitant to say it worked, but the words came out anyway when they asked. Both their eyes nearly bugged out of their heads when you said you’d realized who your soulmate was and that they were at Hogwarts.

“Who? Who is it?” They asked, stumbling over each other’s words as they grilled you for information.

“I’m not revealing that.” you scoffed. “Now, I’ve taken copious notes on the subject, improved the taste of the potion, and made sure it can be replicated, so you shouldn’t have any issues there. You can market it with the Wonder Witch line, or do something else. But that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

George and Fred both looked at you curiously, but didn’t disagree with you so you let the matter drop as you discussed the ways you were going to prevent Umbridge from figuring out some of the other things you were up to with your inventions.

But the twins didn’t really let the matter drop and they combed through your notes, finding the one paper you had forgotten to take with you from the Room of Requirement.

“Injury to the arm last Saturday, imprints of a fork on the same day, a burn from a firework on Wednesday, and blimey! Words from Umbridge’s evil quill etched into the skin of the hand.” George read aloud to both Fred and Lee.

“Is she taking notes of my injuries?” Fred asked, looking over George’s shoulder at the list you’d written.

Lee gasped, then started cackling, pointing at Fred with tears in his eyes as he continued to laugh.

“Quit taking the piss, mate. What are you laughing for?”

“Merlin’s beard, Fred! You asked her to make a soulmate potion and she got one of the lamest options! Did you tamper with the cauldron when she was making it?” Lee asked, tears of laughter still twinkling in his dark eyes.

Fred looked at him in confusion.

“George, what’s this tosser talking about?”

George, to his credit, shook his head and handed him the list. He’d figured it out far quicker than Fred and Lee had, noticing your odd behavior around Fred for the past week or so, especially when you started taking notice of what Fred had done to himself injury-wise.

“She’s your soulmate, you dummy.” Lee answered for him.

Fred furrowed his brow, reading over the list. And sure enough, it wasn’t just a list of his injuries, but where they’d appeared on your body. Not his. You’d correlated them to him, though, and it was obvious now. You were his soulmate. His best friend, you.

Lee and George stood there, waiting to see his reaction, but Fred didn’t say a word before rushing out of the room with the list in his hand. Lee and George tore after him, sure he was about to muck this up.

And muck it up he did.

Fred found you in the common room, having fallen asleep reading a book. You were sprawled on one of the couches, Hermione and Harry near you in comfy chairs by the fire. They looked up when the twins and Lee came in, but stared on in horror as Fred marched right up to their friend with a crazed look in his eyes and shook you awake.

“W-what?” you startled, dropping your book on the floor. The impact woke you immediately and you looked up just to make eye contact with Fred. You gasped, seeing the look in his eyes.

“What is this?” he demanded, shoving your list in your hands. You took the list and scanned over it, gaping up at him without saying anything. Fred didn’t speak either as he snatched your left hand and pointed his wand at it, saying, “Revelio!”

The glamor you’d placed over it to hide the scar faded immediately, leaving the words glaringly imprinted in your skin. You snatched your hand back, trembling, and looked back up at Fred who was looking more determined than you’d ever seen him.

“So did the potion work?” he asked thickly. You nodded hesitantly. “And it’s me? I’m your soulmate?” Another nod.

Fred raked his hands through his hair. Lee and George watched from behind, ready to jump in if needed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Fred asked incredulously.

You gaped up at him, panicking as you stole glances around you at the other people in the common room. Quite a few of them were looking over at your little group, causing you to shrink into yourself.

Why didn’t you tell him? Why? So many reasons, but one being the most notable.

“I didn’t want to force it on you.” you murmured, moving to a sitting position on the couch as you kept your hand hidden. Fred knelt down beside you on the floor and gently took your hands in his this time.

“It’s not forced if I want this too. Why do you think I had you make this potion?” Fred asked quietly, rubbing his fingers over the scarred tissue his request had inadvertently caused.

“For the profit?” you asked dumbly, still trying to process the turn of events here. Fred laughed, but not unkindly. He smiled at you.

“Because I wanted you to be happy. You’ve always been there for us and we’ve done precious little for you in return. And I’ll be honest, you’ve been catching my eye for the past year, so I’m thrilled that it’s you and me, yeah?”

“Really?” you whispered.

“Honest to Merlin.”

“And you’re not upset with me?” you asked nervously.

“Not in the slightest. Do I wish I’d noticed sooner? Absolutely, but we can’t change that. I’m sorry you got the one side effect you didn’t want. You didn’t deserve to feel the same pain as me or get marks because of it.”

“It was worth it. Well, mostly. They all hurt like hell.”

Fred chuckled.

“Now what’s the antidote to your potion? Y’know, so you can stop getting the same injuries as me?”

And that’s when you blanched.

“I didn’t make one.”

[minlcna]

symphony of laughter - george f. weasley

**this is my first ever fic so please ignore any mistakes! hope you enjoy~~

synopsis: short blurb of reader who loves to laugh x george who loves making you laugh and seeing you smile

word count: 490

୨୧‿‿‿ 𝜗𝜚 ‿‿‿୨୧

You laughed a lot, whether the moment called for it or not. Your laughter seemed to echo in any setting, from solemn gatherings to quiet corners, often landing you in awkward situations. It wasn't something you could rein in; your curious sense of humor had a mind of its own. Even in the most serious of conversations, a chuckle would escape, setting you apart from those around you. Your eyes sparkled with mischief, twinkling with that uncontainable joy, as if they were laughing even when your lips remained still. The fine lines near your eyes, proof of your perpetual mirth.

Unsurprisingly, your infectious laughter caught the attention of someone who was an expert at provoking it—George Weasley. You both began your journey at Hogwarts the same year, eagerly climbing the grand steps after an exciting boat and train ride. Just as you and your classmates were about to enter the entrance hall, George unleashed a dungbomb right in front of Professor Snape. With Snape's permanent scowl and the pungent odor of the dungbomb filling the air, you couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably, a snort escaping your nostrils.The sound of your laugh, bright and unrestrained, rang through the air like the unexpected chime of a bell, a sweet and spontaneous note in the middle of a quiet symphony. Your best friend, who was still a stranger at the time, Alicia Spinnet, tried tugging on your arm to get you quiet, but it was no use. That moment resulted in your very first detention on your very first day at Hogwarts, all thanks to George Weasley.

It was clear why you and George fell for each other. You both loved to laugh, and George particularly enjoyed making you laugh. To him, your laughter was like the sound of tinkling bells, reminiscent of a songbird greeting the dawn. It was a sound that wrapped around his heart and lingered there, much like the first notes of a favorite melody. Each laugh was a delicate burst of joy, a secret whispered just for him, full of depth and brilliance.

Your laughter flowed like a soothing lullaby, wrapping around him like a warm embrace on a chilly night. It enchanted him, drawing him in with an irresistible allure, much like a sailor caught in the mesmerizing melody of a siren's song, leaving him spellbound and yearning for more.

It was as if their connection, deep and unspoken, played like a duet only they could hear, the music between them ever-changing yet always in perfect harmony. Each glance and every shared laugh was a note, and together, they created a melody so rich, so resonant that neither of them could imagine a life without it. And for George, there was no greater joy than being the one to make her smile, to be the one who struck the first chord of her happiness, knowing that, together, they would compose a lifetime of harmonies, crescendos, and quiet moments.

[kisses-for-you]

explosion - f. weasley

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: during the battle of hogwarts, you get injured and fred rushes to help. w/c: 1.8k

The battle raged like a storm around you, shaking the ancient stones of the castle to their core. Spells streaked through the air in every color imaginable, illuminating the darkened halls as you, Fred, George, and Percy fought side by side to hold one of the castle's passageways.

Fred stood close to you, his fiery hair glinting in the flickering light of the spells which were whizzing through the air in every direction. He was sweating and breathing hard, but his bravery hadn't faltered.

"Fancy a bit of adventure, love?" he teased, sending a Death Eater crashing into the far wall with a well-placed spell.

"Adventure? More like absolute chaos," you retorted, firing another spell that shattered a chunk of the ceiling, blocking another Death Eater's path. "You Weasleys have the strangest idea of a good time!"

"That's why you love me," Fred shot back, deflecting a Killing Curse with a quick shield charm.

Before you could reply, George chimed in. "Oi, save the flirting for later! Some of us are trying to survive over here!"

Percy, ever the voice of reason - or annoyance, depending on the moment - scowled as he launched another Expelliarmus. "Focus, all of you! We need to hold this position at all costs!"

The Death Eaters were relentless, forcing you all to retreat step by step. But you held your ground, firing spell after spell alongside the brothers. It felt like you were making progress - until the explosion.

The blast came out of nowhere, deafening and blinding. One moment you were standing shoulder to shoulder with Fred; the next, you were hurled backward by the force of the explosion. You hit the ground hard and the world went dark for a moment.

"Y/N!" Fred's voice pierced the haze, raw and panicked. He stumbled through the rubble, the light from his wand flickering wildly as he searched for you.

His heart stopped when he found you crumpled on the floor, your body motionless. Blood stained the front of your robes, and your wand lay just out of reach. For a moment, the chaos around him ceased to exist.

"Y/N!" he dropped to his knees beside you, shaking your shoulder gently. "No. No, no, no." His hands hovered over you, too afraid to touch you in case you were truly gone.

Tears blurred his vision as he cupped your face in his trembling hands. "Come on, love. Don't do this to me. Please, wake up." His voice cracked, and a sob tore from his throat.

George's voice called out from somewhere behind him. "Fred! What are you-" He froze when he saw you. "Bloody hell. Is she..?"

"She's not!" Fred barked, his voice filled with equal parts fury and despair. "She's not." He pressed his forehead to yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "You're stronger than this. You don't get to leave me. You hear me?"

Just as Fred was about to lose all hope, you stirred. When you came to, your ears were ringing, and dust filled the air. Your vision spun as the taste of copper filled your mouth. A weak groan escaped your lips, and your eyes fluttered open. "Fred...?" Your voice was barely audible, but it was enough.

Fred let out a choked laugh, tears streaming down his face as he cradled you close, careful of the wound that appeared to be on your side. "You're alive. Merlin, you're alive." He pressed a desperate kiss to your forehead, his hands moving to check your wound.

"Don't... cry," you whispered, managing a faint smile despite the pain.

"Too late for that, love," Fred replied, his voice still shaking. "I thought I'd lost you. You scared me half to death, you know that?"

You were about to respond but another volley of spells exploded nearby, forcing Fred to shield your body with his own. "George! Percy!" he yelled over his shoulder. "I need cover!"

George was already there but Percy wasn't so he fought his way toward you, spells flying in all directions. George crouched beside Fred, his expression grim as he took in your condition.

"We need to get her out of here," George said firmly. "She's losing too much blood."

"I know that!" Fred snapped, his voice raw. "But if we leave this passageway undefended-"

"We'll handle it," Percy interrupted, his tone unusually gentle. "Fred, get her to safety. That's an order."

Fred hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. He slipped an arm under your shoulders and another under your knees, lifting you as if you weighed nothing.

"You're not leaving me, are you?" you murmured, clinging weakly to his shirt.

"Never," he said fiercely.

As Fred carried you through the crumbling halls, his anger simmered just beneath the surface. Every injured student or fallen friend he passed seemed to deepen the fire in his eyes.

"You're going to be okay," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "You're going to be fine. I'm not letting them take you from me."

When you reached the Great Hall, now transformed into a makeshift hospital, Madam Pomfrey rushed to meet you. Fred laid you gently on one of the hastily arranged cots as Madam Pomfrey immediately began assessing your injuries. Her expression was grave but determined.

"Severe blood loss and internal injuries," she muttered, her wand glowing as she waved it over your body. "Mr. Weasley, please, step back. I need space to work."

Fred hovered nearby, his fists clenched and jaw tight. "She's going to be alright, isn't she?" His voice cracked despite his attempt to sound strong.

Madam Pomfrey didn't look up, her focus solely on you. "I'll do everything I can. Now let me concentrate."

Fred turned away, pacing like a caged lion. George caught up moments later, blood smeared on his cheek and a cut above his eyebrow.

"How is she?" George asked quietly, placing a hand on Fred's shoulder.

Fred didn't answer immediately, his gaze fixed on you. "She has to make it," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't lose her, George. Not her."

George squeezed his shoulder. "She's a fighter. She'll pull through. You've just got to keep believing in her."

Fred paced the Great Hall as the sounds of the battle outside seeped through the walls - distant explosions, cries, and the eerie silence that followed each fallen fighter. He couldn't focus on anything but you.

Madam Pomfrey worked tirelessly, and George stayed by Fred's side, watching his brother struggle to keep his emotions in check. "You need to stay strong," George said, his voice firm but kind. "For her. She's going to need you when she wakes up."

Fred stopped pacing, turning to his twin. "She took the hit meant for me, George." His voice broke. "I should be the one lying there. Not her."

"Don't do this to yourself," George said sharply. "She'd throttle you for even thinking that. And you know it."

Fred was about to respond when your faint voice cut through the air. "Fred...?"

He froze. Then he was by your side in an instant, dropping to his knees next to you. Your eyes fluttered open, glassy with pain but alive. Relief washed over him, so intense it left him momentarily speechless.

"Don't look so grim," you rasped, managing a faint smile. "You look awful."

Fred laughed, though it sounded more like a sob. He brushed a hand through your hair, careful not to touch the blood-stained bandages. "You scared the life out of me, love. Don't ever do that again."

"Not exactly my choice," you murmured, grimacing as you shifted slightly. "What's the situation? The passageway?"

"Forget the passageway," Fred said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You're what matters right now. Percy is holding it down."

"You left him?" you whispered, your brow furrowing. "Fred, you can't-"

"I can, and I did," Fred interrupted, gripping your hand tightly. "He ordered me to get you to safety. And I'd make the same choice a thousand times over."

You squeezed Fred's hand weakly, your fingers barely wrapping around his. "Stubborn as ever," you murmured, your voice laced with pain but also a faint teasing tone. "Guess that's why I love you."

Fred's face softened, his usual mischievous grin flickering to life despite the situation. "Good thing, too, because you're stuck with me."

George, standing nearby, crossed his arms and smirked. "Oh, don't worry, Y/N. He's been planning a whole dramatic scene for when you woke up. You know how he is - loves a good audience."

Fred shot George a glare, though it lacked any real venom. "Not the time, George."

Madam Pomfrey, who had been working with relentless focus, finally stepped back, wiping her hands on her robes. "She'll live," she said briskly. "But she'll need rest. No running about casting spells for a while, understood?"

Fred exhaled a breath he didn't realise he was holding. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow at him. "Thank me by keeping her still. And don't let her charm her way out of recovery. I know how she is." She glanced at you knowingly before bustling off to tend to the next patient.

Fred turned back to you, his hand still clutching yours. "Hear that, love? You're under strict orders to lie still and let me take care of you for once."

You gave him a weak smile, your eyelids drooping. "Just for a bit. Then back to saving more lives."

Fred leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You've already saved mine," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

George cleared his throat, trying to lighten the mood. "Alright, lovebirds, don't go getting all sappy. There's still a war on, in case you've forgotten."

Fred shot him a tired but grateful look. "Go on, then. I'll catch up once she's settled."

"Don't take too long," George said, his tone unusually serious. "We need every wand out there."

As George disappeared back into the fray, Fred sat beside you, his fingers brushing over yours in a soothing rhythm. "You're my priority now," he said firmly. "They'll manage out there. But I'm not leaving your side until you're safe."

"Fred," you whispered, your voice stronger now, though still strained. "I'll be okay. You need to fight. The castle needs you. They need you."

Fred shook his head, his expression unyielding. "They'll have to manage without me for a while. Because I'm not taking my eyes off you until I know you're out of danger."

"Alright," you murmured, your fingers curling around his. "But promise me... you'll stay safe, too."

Fred leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours. "I promise. Now get some rest, love. We'll get through this. Together."

H.P. masterlist