#weasley twins fanfiction

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Best Friends Brother ⊹ . + °

| Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

summary: You are Fred & George’s best friend, and meet their mysterious older brother, Charlie, at a product launch at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

cw: MDNI 18+ smut with basically zero plot. charlie has an absolutely filthy mouth. no war (or light war? idk, everyone is alive)

an: this was supposed to be a casual hook up when I initally planned it, but the dick was so good they fell in love ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

> Part Two

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Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes had a line around the building, hopeful witches and wizards desperate to get a glimpse of the Weasley twin’s newest product. You strolled past them in your mini dress and tights, more than a little chuffed by their jealous glares.

The doors were locked, blocked off with enchanted rope, but when Fred spotted you through the window, he ran to unlock the doors.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it. Georgie, looks who’s here!” Fred slung an arm over your shoulders and ushered you into the store. It was the cleanest you’d ever seen it, with streamers and lights strung everywhere, and a long table loaded with food and drink.

“Y/n!” George shouted, popping up from behind the register. Both of them were dressed in freshly pressed brown suits, looking exceptionally dapper. He came aroud the counter and pulled you into a hug. “Thanks for coming out.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you grinned up at them, pride filling your chest. You’d been close with the twins for years, a friendship that started in school and only grew in adulthood, since you worked a few doors down at Honeydukes.

“Come, you have to meet our family!” They ushered you upstairs, where a dozen or so people waited, several faces were familiar, some were not.

“You remember Harry, Ron, and Ginny,” George said, and you greeted them all with a wave.

“And our parents, Molly and Arthur,” Fred continued.

“Oh, y/n! How lovely to see you!” Molly cooed, pulling you into a rib-cracking hug. “My, what a beautiful young lady you’ve grown into.” She pinched you cheek, and heat scorched your face.

“And this is our older brother’s Percy, Charlie, and Bill. And Bill’s wife, Fleur.”

You turned to the trio of men hovering by the bookcases, and nearly tripped over your heels. Percy, you remembered from school, Fleur as well, and Bill was too busy gazing down at her blonde head to glance your way. But Charlie. He stared straight through you, his dark eyes swallowing you whole.

“Pleasure,” Charlie said, his voice honeyed and deep. He was shorter that Percy beside him, but muscular enough that the maroon blazer he wore seemed a little stretched at the shoulders. His white button down shirt beneath it was tailored perfectly to fit across his wide chest and taper at his defined waist. Freckles kissed his cheeks and forehead, his skin a shade tanner than his siblings, though he shared their ginger hair, mid-length and wavy.

“Hello,” you managed, giving him a small smile. But before you could engage further, George whisked you away.

“It’s tiiiime!” Fred shouted, waving his wand, and the doors burst open.

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As the event raged on, you found yourself drawn to Charlie’s orbit, watching as he mingled with guests and chatted with his family. He seemed to draw a lot of attention, what with his rugged good looks and the fact that he was a dragon trainer. It seemed everyone wanted a sliver of Charlie Weasley’s attention.

So you admired him from a far, and tried to help Fred and George as best you could.

You chatted with customers, explaining the new product the best you could, but you kept feeling the tug of someone’s attention at the nape of your neck, distracting you. When the customer finally moved on, you glanced towards the direction of the feeling, and caught Charlie watching you over the rim of his fire whiskey, ignoring the gentleman attempting to talk to him entirely.

The air froze in your lungs, you heart tripping over itself. His gaze was scorching, and if looks could burn…you were certain your clothes would be rendered to ash.

Desire pooled in your lower belly, heating your blood to an uncomfortable degree. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears, you missed George approach.

“Hey, y/n, enjoying yourself?” He asked, offering you a glass of champagne with a candy snitch floating in it.

You accepted with a smile. “I am, thank you. You guys have done an incredible job.”

George beamed, clinking your glasses together before loping off to sell to another customer.

“So, how long have you known my brothers?” A low voice murmured in your ear, and you whirled around, nearly spilling champagne all over Charlie’s front. He caught your elbow with a steady hand, his grip firm but gentle. “Easy, love,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting.

“Oh, uh, f-five years? I think,” you stuttered, looking anywhere but his smoldering eyes.

“Then how have we never met? I’d certainly remember you.”

You shrugged a shoulder, taking what you hoped was a casual sip of wine. “Seems you haven’t been paying much attention,” you teased, finally meeting his eyes.

His smirk grew into a soft smile. “What a grave error on my part.”

“Are you in town for the event, or…?” You could feel heat climbing up your neck, but you willed yourself to keep a level head. You knew how to flirt, had done so with plenty of blokes in your time, but none as handsome and disarming as Charlie.

“I thought so, but evidently the Gods had other ideas.”

You knees nearly buckled. “Like?” You coyly tilted your head, allowing your eyes to trail across his broad shoulders, down his chest. Was this guy seriously flirting with you? You knew you weren’t unattractive, but Charlie was…phew.

“Like…” He flushed a little, betraying his suave demeanor, and your heart slipped a little further into his hands. “Meeting the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Ever?” You teased, pulling your lower lip between your teeth.

“In this life and probably the next.” He took a sip of his whiskey, letting his eyes wander over you the same way yours did him. And based on the way they darkened, his pupils widening just a fraction, he liked what he saw as much as you did.

“Does that line always work for you?”

“Well, considering I’ve never tried it, why don’t you tell me?”

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Charlie slammed the door shut behind you before crowding you against it, his lips colliding with yours. He tasted like whiskey and pumpkin, with a tinge of cigarette smoke that went straight to your head, and you eagerly tangled your tongue with his, pushing his blazer off his shoulders.

“Colloportus,” he murmured against your mouth, and you heard the lock schick into place. He shrugged his blazer off, tossing it somewhere in the dark storage closet, and his hands were on you again, one sliding into your hair, the other on your lower back, drawing you closer.

“Charlie?” You gasped as his lips traveled down your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, his short beard a rough contrast to the suppleness of his kiss.

“Yeah, honey?” he panted, lifting his head to meet your eyes.

“I don’t usually…” you trailed off, nerves suddenly closing your throat.

His hand slid from your hair to cup your cheek, his callouses rough against your heated skin. “Me neither,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “We can do whatever you want, love. I’ll take you to the nicest restaurant in London, or on Dragon-back to the Swiss Alps, or on a cruise ship to the Americas—”

You cut him off with a kiss, throwing your arms around his neck. “And if I want you to fuck me?” you said between pecks, tugging at the roots of his hair.

He smiled and scooped you up by the meat of your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist so your skirt pushed up over your hips. “Then I’ll fuck you as often as ya’ like.” He turned and dropped you onto some kind of work bench, sending the papers and junk flying with a sweep of his arm.

“The twin’s are going to be pissed,” you giggled, leaning back onto the wood so he could continue his previous assault on your neck.

“Fuck ‘em,” he muttered, nipping at your collarbones. His hands gripped your thighs with dizzying strength, the same hands that handled massive, fire-breathing beasts, and spread you open for his hungry gaze. “Seven fucking hells,” he breathed, running his hands down your inner thighs. “You’re perfect.”

In a swift motion, he ripped your tights at the seam, the sound sending a pulse of arousal to your already dripping pussy, a sharp gasp forcing it’s way from your throat. His fingers glided over your wet panties, so delicate compared to the force he’d used heartbeat before.

Your hips lifted slightly, chasing his gentle touch. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this desperate for someone to touch you, your entire body tuned to his every breath, every twitch of his muscles. He looked so fucking good leaning over you, his previously tidy shirt rumpled, his hair in copper waves around his face, his lips a little red from your fevered kisses.

With his ring finger, her drew your panties to the side, his middle fingers gliding through your slit and circling your clit twice. “Already so wet for me, honey. What did I do to deserve such a warm welcome?” he purred, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

Your brain couldn’t formulate a response, his touch mind-numbing. Pleasure radiated form his fingers, syrupy and languid, with none of the frenetic energy from before. A moan slipped past your lips, your eyes fluttering closed as he coaxed your pussy to bloom for him.

“And such pretty sounds.” He rolled up his shirt sleeve with his free hand, exposing the muscles and veins along his thick forearm. Slowly, he slipped his middle finger inside of you, large enough to stretch you slightly.

“Fuck, Charlie,” you whined, raising yourself onto your elbows so you could watch him play with you.

“I suppose I shouldn’t stretch this out too long, someone might come looking for us,” he mused. “But I could spend a fucking eternity spoiling this greedy little pussy.” He slipped another finger into you channel, pumping them a few times just to feel your cunt suck him back in. “Would you like that, love?” He tilted your chin up with his free hand, an unspoken request for an answer.

“Y-yes, Charlie. Please,” you panted, stretching up to steal a quick peck. He deepened the kiss, shifting his weight to press you back down onto the desk as his tongue flirted with yours. His hand picked up the pace, fucking you steadily as he devoured your mouth, teeth skating along your swollen flesh before sucking lightly on your tongue.

You don’t know what God blessed him with such a skilled tongue, but you needed to make an offering in thanks stat.

But since you couldn’t do that��

“Charlie?” You asked, reaching around to touch his wrist between your legs.

He immediately stopped, withdrawing his hand completely. “What’s wrong?” He searched your face for signs of discomfort, his brows drawn together.

You pressed a kiss to his bearded cheek before sliding off the desk. He watched you, confused and concerned, then you lowered yourself to your knees and his jaw went slack.

“Honey, you don’t have to—”

“Please, Charlie?” You batted your lashes up at him, tugging lightly on his belt.

“Merlin’s fucking—I can’t say no to you when you look at me like that, sweetheart.”

“Then don’t,” you teased, undoing his belt and zipper. You could see the outline of his cock against his black boxers, thick and throbbing as you glided your fingers over it.

He sucked in a breath, gripping the edge of the table with one of his hands. Encouraged, you dragged the flat of your tongue over the fabric, feeling the heat of him, the wetness collecting by the swollen head.

“I must have died in the dragon pit and gone to heaven. My god, woman,” he rasped, running his fingers through his hair to keep it from blocking the sight.

You giggled, licking a few more stripes before reaching up to free him. His cock sprung out, veiny and flushed pink. And, to your absolute shock and delight, even his cock was freckled.

“You have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen,” you praised, and his cheeks flushed pink. You laved your tongue along the thickest vein, earning a throaty groan. You sucked the head into your mouth, lapping up the precum pearling from his slit.

Charlie’s head fell back, one of his hands sliding into your hair. He didn’t add any pressure, just held you as you started to suck him, moving a little further down each time. You wrapped your hand around the base, there was no way you’d fit the entire thing in your mouth, and started pumping him, matching the motions with your mouth. His skin was like velvet, soft and smooth, and you loved feeling him pulse against your tongue with every dip of your head.

“You are too damn good at that. So fucking pretty swallowing my cock.” His thumb stroked your cheek while he gazed down at you, stars in his eyes. “You like sucking me off, honey?”

You nodded as best you could, flicking your tongue at the groove just beneath the head. His hips lurched forward, a grunt escaping through his teeth.

“Fuck, sorry, love. I’m trying to stay still for ya’, but feels so fucking good.”

You reached up and guided his hand into your hair, then used it to push your head down, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

He smirked, his hand fisting in your hair. “Whatever you say, gorgeous.” He started moving your head along his shaft, rocking his hips in time with the movements. He went easy at first, but as drool began to track down your chin, your eyes rolling back in bliss, he picked up the pace. But he only fucked your mouth for a few, punishing strokes before lifting you off of him. He slammed his mouth to yours, a harsh, hungry kiss that had you seeing stars.

You whined in protest, but he shushed you by lifting you into the air and setting you on the table once more.

“If you thought I wasn’t going to fuck you, you’re mad,” he gruffed, dragging the hot head of his cock through your pussy lips. “That is, if you still want me to?”

“Yes, fuck, now, Charlie. Please.” You spread your legs a little wider for him,

“Anything for you, love.” He leaned down and kissed you again, sliding his cock into your depths at the same time. The feeling of being filled by him bordered on divine, silken and hot. He was stretching you just enough to leave you with that delicious ache between your legs. You moaned into each other’s mouths, the sounds caught up by his tongue parting your lips and caressing yours.

He drew his hips back, agonizingly slow, letting you feel every inch of one another, before he slammed back in, knocking the air from your lungs. It seemed he was at the end of his control, his grip on your hips bruising as he fucked you hard, jostling the desk beneath you and making the shelves along the walls rock.

“Fuck, Charlie. Feels so good,” you cried, trying and failing to keep yourself quiet as he railed you, every thrust like a lightning strike of pleasure through your body.

“Yeah? You take my cock so well, baby. Wet little pussy squeezing the life outta’ me,” he groaned, his hair tickling your face. “So good f’me, honey. Like you were made for me.”

Your muscles tightened, veering closer and closer to your peak, his praise sending little pulses of bliss your clit.

“You like being praised, baby? Hearing how perfect you are for me? Fuck, I can feel how much you like that, squeezing me so hard.” His hand slipped between you, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing tight circles over you puffy clit. “Come for me, y/n. I know you can. I want to feel you fall apart around me. That’s a good girl—”

Your cry drowned out his praise as your peak crashed over you, visceral and exquisite. The world vanished, blown apart by the burst of starlight in your chest as you came for him. Pulses of pleasure made your body shake and buck, your eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you through it.

“That’s it, honey. Such a good fucking girl. Merlin, you’re gonna make me come.” He rested on his forearms, braced on either side of your head, hitting an entirely new angle as you came back into your body.

“Charlie,” you whimpered, clinging to him. ”I’ve got ya’, love. Don’t worry. Just a little longer—fuck.” A strangled groan broke from his throat and you felt his cock swell, then kick against your walls, the first hot stream of release painting your insides.

He rested his head on your shoulder as he muscles trembled, his hips pressed flush to yours. You wrapped you arms around his shoulders, still weak from that soul-shaking orgasm. His lips passed over your shoulder, your clavicle, up your neck, before finally ghosting of your lips, soft and breathless.

You remained like that for longer than you probably should have, enraptured with one another. You'd been complete strangers a few hours ago, but this wasn't a hook up akin to a one night stand. This was the reunification of two beings, the re-raveling of a soul tie.

“Y/n,” he murmured, kissing your forehead, your temple. “Y/n, y/n, y/n…” He held you like he'd die if he let go.

“Charlie,” you exhaled, nuzzling behind his ear.

“Can I take you to Romania with me?” He whispered, a joke, you presumed, but there was no humor in his voice.

“I've never seen a dragon before—”

The door knob jiggled, and someone pressed against it, the wood groaning.

“Shit.” Charlie jumped backwards, scrambling to right your dress and smooth your hair.

“Hey, Freddie! This doors locked for some reason.”

“Charlie, your dick,” you snickered while he wiped away a smudge of your lipstick.

“Fuck, right.”

“Alohamor—”

“COLLOPORTUS,” Charlie barked out, snatching his wand from his boot.

“Charlie?” George called, knocking on the door.

Charlie tucked you behind him and undid the spell, peeking the door open. “If you say another word, you're dragon food,” he growled, and you had to clap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing.

“You got a girl in there, mate?” George asked, and you could hear the shit-eating grin on his face.

“George,” Charlie warned.

“Fine, fine. You've got ten minutes before I actually need to get in there.” George knocked once more then strode away, his footsteps disappearing down the hall.

Charlie sagged against the door, exhaling. “I'm sorry, love,” he said, turning to you.

You pecked his cheek. “Don't be sorry, that was the best lay of my life.” You tried to reassure him, despite the curdling sadness in your chest.

A shy smile broke through his serious expression. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “I can only imagine how good it would be when we had all the time in the world,” you murmured against his ear, a shiver rolling down his spine. It was better to leave it like this, flirty, casual, than with whatever…that was.

“I mean, we’ve got ten minutes…”

You patted his chest and slipped out of the door, finding George waiting at the end of the hall, arms crossed.

His jaw dropped. “Y/n!”

Charlie ran out behind you. “I swear to God, George—”

“Are all Weasley's this dramatic?” You closed George's mouth with a finger under his chin.

“Where did—when did—how?” George stuttered, looking back and forth between the two of you.

Charlie smirked, shrugging back on his blazer. “I'll explain when you're older,” Charlie teased. “Would you like a drink, y/n?”

“I'd love one.“ You threaded your arm through his, and together returned to the party.

> Part Two

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Thanks for reading!

If you enjoyed, please check out my published work here.

Much love,

Allie

[moontopuff]

Summary: twins hear some nasty rumours about you, and don't like people talk like that about their favourite Hufflepuff.

Other: hurt/angst? I mean, group of students are gossiping about your relationship with twins in a nasty way... its mostly about twins reactions and their wave of protectiveness towards you.

The corridors of Hogwarts bustled with the usual energy, as Fred and George Weasley strolled through the hall, joking about their next prank. Their conversation slowly faded as they neared a group of Hufflepuff girls chattering animatedly just ahead.

They weren’t ones to eavesdrop, not random students, because their topics were usually just too boring. Still, when your name slipped into the conversation, both twins fell silent, instinctively tuning in. It wasn’t like they could help it when it was you they were talking about.

"…Right! And Ernie asked me to the ball yesterday, so I’m going too!" a blonde girl said excitedly, her voice carrying through the hall.

"Good for you, girlie!" her friend, a brunette, chimed in, clapping her on the shoulder. But then her tone shifted, quieter now. "And on the topic… Do you know if anybody asked (Y/N) to the ball yet?"

Fred and George slowed their pace, glancing at each other with smirks. Did somebody ask their favorite Hufflepuff yet? You didn't tell them anything, and if they will know thanks to gossip... Well, they will use it to tease you, for sure. That's why they stopped their walk, pretending to be interested in something else, while listening to conversation.

"I talked with that girl who is close to her, and I know that nope! And isn’t it kinda sad that nobody’s asked her to the ball yet?" another girl snickered.

"Yeah," the blonde one agreed, her voice softer but tinged with clear jealousy. "Especially since she’s always seen with the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan. I figured she’d be the first to have a date. She's close with them, after all."

"Exactly," the brunette chimed in, her eyes wide with faux innocence. "I mean, if she’s so close to the twins, how come neither of them wants to take her? I heard some Ravenclaw's talking that it's probably she’s… you know… giving it up to both of them, but they still don't want her, and thus she still can’t even get a proper date."

Weasley twins blinked in unison, too surprised to do more than that. That's... not what they were expecting to hear.

Fred woke up first and felt a wave of disgust wash over him, his hands balling into fists. George’s jaw clenched beside him, the tension building between them as they forced themselves to stay silent and listen.

"Yeah, like, that’s just pathetic," the blonde said, her voice turning mocking. "She’s hanging around them all the time, probably hooking up with both of them, and yet here she is, still dateless. That’s… well, kind of sad, don’t you think?"

A chorus of giggles followed, the sound hitting Fred and George like a slap in the face. The idea that anyone could think that they are spending time with you only for your body... That you were only their plaything, while that couldn't be more far from the truth. The fact that people believed it was happening and were laughing at you for it—made their blood boil.

"She’s probably desperate," one of the girls added, her tone casual but venomous, and that was the last thing twins' heard as the girls started walking away and their giggles finally faded into the distance. With that, the twins also resumed walking, not a world exchange between them, just cold silence. Neither of them spoke for a few moments, their minds racing with anger and guilt. You were their friend—someone they cared about deeply, and hearing people spread lies and cruel rumors about you left a bitter taste in their mouths.

"You think she’s heard any of this?" George asked quietly, his voice tinged with concern.

Fred’s frown deepened. "If she has, she hasn’t said a word. But Merlin, if she knew what they were saying…"

They both knew how kind and loyal you were—always trying to avoid conflict, always looking out for others. You weren’t the type to confront people, not unless it was absolutely necessary. You’d rather keep your head down, maybe even shrug off the rumors with a weak smile, even if they were cutting you deep inside. The thought of you, bashful and kind as always, hearing something like this made Fred’s stomach twist in knots.

"She doesn’t deserve this," George muttered, shaking his head.

Fred’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of determination sparking behind them. "We’ve got to do something. She shouldn’t have to deal with this rubbish."

George smirked slightly, though there was no humor in it. "Something big. Make sure everyone knows the truth without making her feel embarrassed about it."

Fred nodded, already hatching a plan in his mind. "Subtle enough that she won’t notice what we’re up to. But obvious enough that no one will ever believe those lies again."

They continued down the hall, their thoughts already racing ahead to what needed to be done. This wasn’t just about protecting you from gossip—this was about reminding everyone that you were worth far more than the cruel words of a few petty girls. That you were more than your body. You were loyal, hardworking, and kind, and anyone who thought less of you clearly didn’t know you at all.

"By the time we’re done," Fred said, a glint of mischief finally returning to his eyes, "she’ll have half of Hogwarts wishing they were her date to the ball."

George grinned, feeling the tension between them ease as they began to plot. "And we’ll make sure everyone knows she’s not someone to mess with."

Silently, they decided that you now, along with Ginny, are under his protection: who will do wrong to you, will do wrong to them, and thus, punishment will be given. They knew you could handle yourself, but why let you do that, when they could do it themselves, and spare you dealing with rubbish people? The twins walked off with renewed purpose, ready to set their plans in motion.

[lushaletta]

I have a question??? Could you do Fred Weasley x older sister Potter reader who's he's friends with and like headcanons of their relationship please and thank you

in good hands / fred weasley

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

content: mild swearing, older sister potter!reader

summary: being harry potter’s older sister is difficult. you hate watching your little brother get hurt both physically and emotionally, but fred happens to be a great protector.

a/n: MY FRED WEASLEY DEBUT!! george is my fav but fred is so arghghghgh hot. anywayyyy tysm for this request and i’m sorry i didn’t follow it to a t!! i was originally gonna do headcanons as requested but i kinda got in the zone… i do kinda like this pairing though so i may end up doing hcs eventually anyway! also my bad for this taking FOREVER i’ve been madly busy… love u folks

⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

Harry comes running into your room, soaked with both rain water and agitation. His broom is immediately tossed to the side and you can’t help but be concerned— you have a feeling you know what this is going to be about, and it’s not the first time.

“Harry?”

“So sick of it! I only try to help, you know? To make things better and no one ever gives a fuck! No gratitude or even kindness, after everything I’ve done.” Your face softens as he inches towards you, even being careful not to get your bed wet with his clothing.

“They’re still mad at you for losing the game? Are you serious?” You’re completely furious. Harry’s had the world on his shoulders since forever and his entire life is a tragedy. He can’t even play a school sport without being reamed for something that’s hardly his fault.

Peeling his jersey off, he crawls into your side and waits for your affection; the only thing he can count on when the world isn’t on his side.

“I tried to fix things, you know? Told Fletcher I was sorry but they’re still pissed, calling me a freak and saying all this crap about Voldemort.” You shush him and cradle his face in your arms. Your heart is breaking because how could anyone treat your baby brother like this, how could anyone see him as something less than precious?

His eyes shimmer but not with the sparkle of joy. They’re teary. “Fuck ‘em all. They’ll come around, Harry. They do eventually.”

It’s not fair what they do to him. He’ll mess something up and half the time it’s out of his control, and suddenly he’s public enemy number one. You’re usually there to help, and so are his friends like Hermione and Ron, but it can’t always be like this.

He’s okay after a while. You amp up the jokes and ruffle his hair and he’s okay. He has dinner with his group and you with yours. It’s a nice evening and all you can do is hope he’s forgetting everything wrong with the world. It seems like he is, because he’s tossing peanuts in the air and catching them in his mouth while Ron is laughing hysterically and Hermione is resting her hand on a judgemental expression.

“Oi, Weasley!” you say, and Fred whips his head towards you. “I’ve got something to ask. A favour.”

He perks up. You were asking him for a favour. He’s been waiting for his in since forever, but he wouldn’t let you know that. “Yeah?” he replies, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

A quick breath escapes your lips as you lean on him, lashes fluttering and a little grin settled on your face. He can look at you trying to be all persuasive without blushing. He’s stronger than this.

“How about.. you and George look after Harry? I’ve been worried about him, with the whole dementor thing. And after what happened last game, I can’t just sit from the stands and watch him get injured again knowing I didn’t do anything about it. Everyone’s pissed at him.”

Fred softens. His mind races, trying to come up with the cons of the request. He comes up empty. This was an excuse to talk to you more and, well, he already quite liked Harry, so that was no issue. And with your convincing doe eyes, how could he refuse?

He’s taking too long to respond and he knows it, but he can’t stop staring at your pretty face. You clear your throat, prodding for an answer. “Huh? Oh, yeah. The lad’s gonna be in good hands, m’lady,” he winks.

The roll of your eyes makes him smile. “Better make sure of it, Weasley.”

And to shut you up, he shoves a grape between your lips and you smack him across the arm.

From then on, Fred and George made sure no one got in Harry’s way. Someone messed with him, they messed with them. The twins were 190 and a half centimetres of beater strength and poking the bear was on no one’s to-do list, so Harry was pretty much set. Well, not entirely.

All Harry really wants to do is sit down and catch up on the pile of homework he’s missed for Chosen One duties, but some people take that as being haughty.

“Potter. You and your godforesaken hero complex. You think you’re untouchable? What’ll happen if I sock you in the face, huh? You think magic will—“

“Fuck around and find out.”

Finnick Lewis turns around. He immediately backtracks. “Hey, listen, man, I don’t want any trouble.” Fred didn’t miss the nasty glare that Lewis sent Harry on his way out. He’d take care of that one later.

The boy doesn’t really know what’s just happened or why, but he’ll take whatever he can get and he’ll be grateful for it. He mumbles out a thank you before scrambling to his room.

You’d seen Fred’s effort in protecting your brother. He’d done a damn good job at it too, because Harry hadn’t complained much about students in weeks. You’re glad you at least took that load off his shoulders.

“Tell you what, Weasley,” you say nonchalantly, unwrapping a chocolate.

He hums. It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and he’s trying to finish up an essay. Lupin likes him just fine, but he’s definitely a tough grader.

“If you can make sure Harry’s perfectly uninjured after the next game, I’ll give you a kiss.”

Who cares about Lupin? Fred looks up at you instantly, suddenly feeling the velvet of the chair on his skin. “I’ll totally bite. How many seconds?”

You snort. “The kiss?” He nods. “3 seconds. 5 if I’m feeling generous.”

The essay is forgotten just like that.

The man moved the moon and sun to ensure Harry’s safety on his watch. Lewis and Fletcher had their tails between their legs after a few careful threats and actions to back them up, and Harry felt good. Safe. That’s all that mattered.

Monday arrives and the Quidditch stands are a sea of red and green with Gryffindor particularly antsy as Harry zooms around the pitch, Golden Snitch right within his view but not quite arms reach.

“Potter’s got his eye on the prize! I’ve got mine on too, Johnson looks impeccable in robes, I’ll tell you that much— Sorry, Professor.”

Fred’s holding his own, watching out for any foul play from the Slytherin Seeker whilst batting Bludgers. George is at his side, throwing them out and scoring right into Flint’s stomach.

“Wonderful play from Weasley! Not quite sure which one, but great nonetheless,” Lee says through the megaphone.

Fred’s just about to hit a Bludger into the opposing Keeper’s side, but he spots Harry in the corner of his eye being tailed by Higgs and there’s a nasty Slytherin Bludger coming right for him and he’s flying there immediately.

Harry’s so pumped with adrenaline and focus on the Snitch, he doesn’t even notice the ball coming straight to his nose. Godric knows that would leave a mark. Fred comes up and bats it away, nearly falling off his broom.

You’re watching from the stands in admiration and excitement and Fred can’t help but find you in the crowd. He sends you a wink from the pitch and a girl beside you seems to think it’s for her. You let it happen. You know who it belonged to.

Gryffindor emerges victorious, winning by two points and Harry’s crowd surfing, a big smile on his face as students chant his name. He doesn’t know how long the fame will last, but he doesn’t really care.

“You did good, Weasley,” you admit as Fred comes up beside you.

“Think I deserve my kiss now?”

In typical you fashion, you roll your eyes and pull him towards your face.

He thinks the kiss will be haste, but you melt into his lips and he does the very same. His arms snake around your waist and bring you impossibly closer and you relish in it. It’s embarrassing how much you’re grinning, but you can feel his smile too.

Catching your breath, “That was like 30 seconds. Now you gotta help Harry with his homework.”

[allthesmutl0vers]

Managing Mischief: Weasley Twins x Fem!Reader (Part Seven)

MDNI, NSFW, 18+ Masterlist Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader x George Weasley TW: Mentions of ED, Oral Sex (M! and F! Receiving and giving), Just general fluff, and Ron who makes you facepalm yourself. 🤦🏻‍♀️ A/N: I am so sorry it took me so long to update this! I'm re-writing this story and the chapters are long af, and just a mess. (This was my first ever fic from like 2 years ago on Wattpad.) I solemnly swear that I will update this more. Tag: @helendeath @ the anon who asked where this was. Please reblog and/ or comment if you like the story, as they help me stay motivated to keep writing 💜🥹

Chapter Seven

Fred

Looking at y/n sitting next to me, talking to our friends, makes my heart pound. She’s so goddamn beautiful. I just wish we could make her see it for herself. George and I have tried to come up with reasons why she doesn’t eat when we’re alone, but we can’t seem to find one. We notice the weight loss. We were the first ones to notice it. At first, we thought she just wanted to slim down a bit, not that she ever needed to. 

But now? She’s so tiny that her ribs are poking out, and that can’t be healthy. What really worries us though, is when she gets so lightheaded she almost faints and has to sit down. Neither of us cares how much she weighs. We never did. We just want her to be healthy and happy. She will always be the most beautiful girl in the world to us, no matter her size. 

I’ve never been into Angelina. She’s a good mate and a fair chaser, but nothing more. The way that y/n got so defensive and chewed her out, though? Fuck, my dick swells just at the thought of it. Not to mention the way she blew up at Malfoy, calling out about having a shitty dick. That made my heart soar and almost cripple me with laughter. 

But what really got my attention? The way she said that she screams my and George’s names. I can only imagine what that’d be like, what it will be like. I squeeze her leg a little tighter, and she looks up at me with those beautiful brown eyes that I just want to fall into and never come out of. 

She gives me a curious look, and I lean down to whisper in her ear. “So, you scream our names, hm, little one?” I ask her softly and feel her shudder and clench her thighs under my grip. I love the way she reacts to my touch and my words. 

“Maybe,” she whispers back and softly whimpers. Biting her lip when I slide my hand further up her skirt. Fuck, I love the little sounds she makes. Every single one of them goes straight to my cock. I lick my bottom lip as George grabs her attention as we pull into the train station. 

George

I’ve seen y/n pissed off before, but her yelling at Angelina and Katie was something else. Something something much sexier. I’ve never given Katie so much as half a glance outside of quidditch practice, and during games, I’m focused on the game. At most just keeping people from getting bloodied up too bad. But I’m fairly certain she would’ve killed them if Harry hadn’t stepped in. 

I could’ve destroyed Draco on the spot when he asked to have a moment with her. But this girl, with her tiny little hands and fingers, stopped me instantly. She ate him up, spit him back out, and I’m pretty sure she made him cry. And he deserved every last bit of it. I don’t know what made him think it was a good idea to try to talk to her, alone for that matter. Did Blaise not tell him we’re together? Oh well, the whole school is going to find out sooner or later, and I can’t fucking wait. 

The only thing that really worries me is her eating habits or lack thereof. We haven’t really found the right time to talk to her about it, but we talk to each other about it. Fred thinks it’s just stress, but I think it could be an eating disorder. She’s losing weight so fast, and she’s so light that now I can lift her and swing her around with one arm without breaking a sweat. For Merlin’s sake, my trunk is heavier than she is. It scares the living daylights out of me when she almost faints. We can’t lose her. I can’t lose her. I wouldn’t survive it. 

My attention is drawn to her thighs clenching under my hand, and I look over to see Fred, no doubt whispering some dirty shit in her ear. She thinks she’s going to win whatever little game she is playing, and she just might. I want to get down on my knees and serve her every single chance I get. I haven’t even tasted her pussy yet, and I’m fucking addicted. 

I see her pull away slightly from Fred and take the opportunity to grip her chin and force her to look at me so I can whisper my dirty shit in her ear. She leans in with those perfect, supple lips and I fight the urge to just kiss her instead. But I hold back, whispering into her ear instead, smelling the strawberry conditioner in her hair. “We may be going to a feast, baby, but I’m going to eat you out like it’s my last fucking meal,” I hear her gasp softly and feel her thighs clench together even more, rubbing her legs together like she’s searching for some kind of friction. I kiss her as we pull into the train station, and she stands up to follow Fred out of the compartment with me right behind her. 

Y/n

I take Fred’s hand as I slide out of the booth. My panties are fucking soaked. This is going to be a long dinner, and the sorting ceremony feast is always long. As we we off the train, Fred and George go ahead of me, and each helps me down, taking my hands in theirs. We walk with our friends, everyone holding hands with who they’re now officially dating as we walk to the castle as the sun begins to set. 

We’re all some of the last people to enter the great hall. I can’t help but feel anxious with so many people staring at me, Fred and George. They sense it, though, and grip my hands tighter as they walk me to the Gryffindor table, and we take our seats across from our friends. “Everyone is staring,” I whisper to both of them.

“Let them stare, little one,” Fred tells me with a smile. 

“Nothing, and nobody can hurt you while we’re around. I promise, baby,” George says softly, stroking my hair. I nod my head and turn to the front as Dumbledore starts his speech. 

“Good evening, and welcome back,” Dumbledore says with a smile as the rest of the chatter dies down. “Here starts another year of education, friendship, and memories. While we may be separated by house, we are one school, one body. And we must all look out for each other, care for one another, and protect everyone. As with every year, we will begin with the sorting ceremony, welcoming fresh minds and new friends. Be kind, be generous, and be helpful. I’m sure you all remember the first time walking through those doors and the uncertainty that came along with it,” he chuckles before continuing. 

“Show them that no matter what house you are sorted into, everyone is welcome, and everyone has a place here. This year, we will also have a new Defense Against The Dark Arts professor joining us as well. A man I believe to be one of the bravest, most loyal, and even one of the most trouble-causing previous students I have ever known. Please give a warm welcome to Sirius Black,” he claps with a smile. 

We all look at Harry and smile. We all stand up and clap the loudest of anyone in the great hall, Fred and George whooping and hollering as Sirius walks out from a room behind the teacher's table, smiles at us, and takes a seat. 

*****

“That concludes our sorting ceremony,” Dumbledor claps as the new first-years take their seats at their assigned house tables. “Let the feast begin,” Dumbledore says as platters of all sorts of food appear on the table in front of us, damn near throwing me into a full-blown panic attack. 

Everyone digs in, and I start to look for the lowest calorie foods, mentally counting them in my head and comparing them to how much exercise I’ll have to do to make up for it when Fred takes my plate and starts putting food onto it. “What are you doing?” I ask him, trying not to panic. 

“Serving you, little one,” he says calmly, putting a scoop of potato salad on my plate, knowing it’s my favorite. I dig my nails into the palm of my hand when I see the size of the scoop, double what I would’ve taken for myself. My breathing intensifies as I watch him put beans and chicken on my plate, too. 

George takes my hands in one of his and tips my face to look at him. “Deep breath, baby. It’s alright. You don’t have to eat it all. We just want you to try, okay?” He says in a soothing tone of voice. I nod my head as tears well in my eyes, begging myself not to cry as Fred takes control of my plate. “Hey, hey, look at me,” George says, getting my attention again. “Take a deep breath in with me, okay? In,” he says and we take a deep breath in together. “Good, and out,” he says as we blow it out. We do this three times until I’ve finally calmed down. “Good girl, you feel a little better now?” 

I nod. “A little. I just hate eating in front of all of these people. I feel like they’re all staring at me,” I sniffle. 

“I promise they’re not, baby. But would it make you feel better if the others blocked you from looking at them?” George asks me. I nod shyly, and he smiles and kisses my cheek before leaning over the table to Hermione. “Pst, Granger,” he says, getting her attention as Fred sets my plate down in front of me. 

“Yes?” she answers, leaning over. 

“Tell everyone to scoot down so our girl doesn’t have to look at everyone while she eats, will you?” he asks quietly. Hermione gives him a thumbs up. 

Fred rubs my back lovingly and places some water and tea down in front of me as the others scoot down. “I don’t think I can eat all of this, Freddie,” I admit quietly. 

Fred smiles sadly and leans in. “It’s alright, little one. Just eat half, okay?” He says softly. 

I nod. “I’m sorry,” I admit, feeling ashamed. 

Fred tilts my chin up to look at him. “Listen to me. You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you understand me?” He asks seriously, and I nod as he continues. “Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, we’re here. Until then, and after, we will do everything we can to help you, okay?” 

“Thank you, Freddie,” I say softly. 

Fred genuinely smiles and kisses the back of my hand. “Anything for you, little one.” 

Our four friends scoot down to block me from looking at anyone else, and Fred and George tilt their bodies slightly to block me on the sides. “I still don’t see why we had to move,” Ron groans as I pick up my fork. 

Hermione nudges him in the ribs. “I told you, we’re helping y/n,” she scolds him. 

Ron rolls his eyes and looks at me. “Honestly, what did you need our help with, anyway?” Ron asks as he puts more food on his plate. 

I bite my lip nervously before I answer him. “I promise, I’ll tell you later. But I really do appreciate it,” I respond, giving him a small smile. 

Ron swallows a big bite and looks at me. “Whatever it is, it better be good, is all I’m saying.” 

Harry rolls his eyes and looks at Ron. “Honestly, Ron, just eat.”

I manage to eat half of my plate before the table magically clears and dessert appears. I take a deep breath, feeling my anxiety start rising again, but before I can get too deep into it, a voice behind me pulls me from my thoughts. “Ms. Hunt?” I turn around to see the headmaster, Dumbledore, behind me, looking down at me with a kind smile. 

“Oh, yes, sir?” I respond politely. 

“I hate to steal you away from your friends, but would you kindly accompany me to my office? I need to speak with you,” He asks like I have a choice. 

 “Of course, sir. Right now?” I ask, looking around at my friends and wondering how I could be in trouble when we literally just got here. 

Dumbledore smiles and nods once. “Yes, if you please. I will have you back to your common room with plenty of time to visit and settle in.” 

I nod and stand from the table. “Of course, sir. Lead the way,” As I walk through the great hall with Dumbledore, everyone, and I mean everyone, stares. But this time, I also hear the rumors. 

“She’s probably in trouble because she’s dating the twins,” someone from our table says.

“Hopefully, the slut gets kicked out,” someone adds in response to the first.

“Did you see her crying at the table? Fucking pathetic,” someone from the Ravenclaw table says.

“I heard she’s on drugs, and that’s why she doesn’t eat,” says someone from Slytherin.

I try to ignore them, but my eyes are filled with tears by the time we exit the great hall, and I can’t stop the sniffle that breaks free. Dumbledore doesn’t speak about it, simply handing me a tissue without saying a word as we walk to his office. 

“Sherbert lemon,” Dumbledore says to the griffin statue that leads to his office. The statue turns, and stairs appear in its place. When we get to his office, he opens his door and allows me to enter first. “Please, have a seat,” he says kindly, motioning to the chair in front of his desk as he sits behind it. 

“Sir, am I in trouble?” I ask nervously as I sit down in front of his desk. 

 Dumbledore looks at me curiously. “Now, why would you think that you’re in trouble?” He asks, making me want to roll my eyes. He always does this. Answers questions with a question. 

I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know,” then it hits me. “Is it my Mum?” I ask worriedly. “She’s in the hospital, you see, at,”

Dumbledore raises a hand, cutting me off. “At St. Mungo’s, with your father. Yes, I am aware,” Dumbledore says with a small smile. “Your father wrote me this morning and explained the whole situation. I am happy to say she is quite alright, even if she hasn’t woken yet,” he says, leaning back in his seat. “And you are not in any trouble.” 

Now, I’m even more confused. “Okay. Forgive me, professor. It’s just that I’ve never been called into your office before,” I say, looking around. 

“I asked you up here because I noticed that you seemed to be struggling at dinner. And I wanted to ask if there is anything that I can do to help,” Dumbledore responds kindly. 

I breathe a small sigh of relief. “Honestly, sir, I’m not sure,” I answer honestly, but I can see that he is waiting for an explanation, so I decide to just tell him everything. “Over the summer, I went through quite a bit,” he nods, waiting for me to continue. “My eating disorder has returned. It started in year three, and I got it under control in my fourth and fifth years, but this last summer,” I look off to the side, my hands shaking. “It returned in full swing. I noticed that I had gained quite a bit of weight and well…” I sigh and shrug my shoulders as I look back at him. “Here I am.”

Dumbledore nods, thinking for a minute before he speaks. “I’m very sorry to hear that, Ms. Hunt,” he says sympathetically. “You care so deeply for your friends, and you are always kind to everyone around you. I notice it when I am doing my evaluations during the year, and even just around the school in general,” he explains. “You are always the first one to offer help to another student, regardless of their house. I admire that about you,” he says with a smile. 

He thinks for another moment and speaks again. “How about this,” he explains. “There is a big enough table in your common room for you and your friends. How would you like to eat your meals there instead of the great hall? Your friends can join you, of course. You can eat your meals there in peace and just join the rest of the school when you feel comfortable enough.”

“That would be amazing, professor,” I say surprised. “But I would hate to burden you or the elves. I know nobody thinks about them, but I do. They already have so much on their plate: starting the fires, cleaning, and warming the beds on top of everything else. I would hate to add on to that.”

“I think it is a beautiful thing that you think of them,” he smiles. “You’re right. They are often overlooked. But I assure you, with your permission, of course, that when I explain the situation to them, they will be happy to help. Especially Dobby. As I hear, you have gotten quite close with the elf?” 

I chuckle and nod. “Yes, Dobby is wonderful. He always listens to me when I need someone besides my friends to talk to. And always with hot chocolate,” I smile fondly at the memories and nod. “Yes, I would very much appreciate that. You have my permission to speak with them about it. I know I can trust you and them.” 

Dumbledore nods and smiles. “Thank you for trusting me. Forgive me for asking, but does anyone else know of your struggles? Your friends, for instance?”

“Not yet,” I shake my head. “I was going to tell them when we got back to the common room once everyone else went to bed. I know I can’t fight it alone. Part of me doesn’t want to fight it at all, if I’m being honest,” I admit nervously. “But I’m tired all the time, and it’s scary when I almost pass out,” I sigh. “I just don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

Dumbledore nods with understanding. “Yes, the battles we have within ourselves tend to be the hardest to win. But,” he points to me. “They are also the battles most worth fighting for,” he says with a smile. “There is one more thing I wanted to share with you.” 

I lean forward slightly, paying attention. “Yes, professor?” 

Dumbledore clears his throat and leans forward. “When I corresponded with your father, he mentioned that when you’re stressed, it helps for you to have your own space,” I nod in agreement. “I have made arrangements, and you will have your own dorm room this year,” my eyes widen in surprise. My own dorm?! “If, at some point, you would like to share it with Ms. Granger or Ms. Weasley, that will be your choice, and we can arrange it. But it is your choice.”

“Thank you, professor. That is very generous of you,” I smile. “I hope it wasn’t too much of a burden.”

“None at all,” he shakes his head. “You may also, if you choose, have co-ed sleepovers. You are a bright witch, and I trust your judgment,” he explains, interlocking his fingers. “But only in your dorm room, and as long as you are careful and remember to take your potions every day. You are a young woman, and I understand that you have, well, shall we say, desires, but I do not want to hear you or your friends bragging about your privileges in the halls or class,” Dumbledore says sternly.

“As you know, private co-ed gatherings in the dorms are allowed for sixth years and above, but only before eight o’clock. Should I hear you or your friends bragging about your privilege, it will be revoked. Is that understood?” he asks seriously. 

I nod profusely. “Yes, professor, I understand entirely,” I respond, trying not to jump for joy right out of my seat. 

“Very well. Now, let’s get you back to your common room, and I shall confer with the house elves about your accommodations,” he says as we rise from our seats and walk out of his office. “Your dorm will be at the end of the hall, past the other girls’ dorm rooms. It’s a new door, so you can’t miss it.” 

As we walk down the corridors and up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, he shares some of the amenities of my new dorm. I have to refrain from running ahead and telling my friends all about them as he tells me. Dumbledore also tells me how to lock and unlock my door. Apparently, my door is just like the doors to the common rooms, and once I set a password, so charm in the world will open it. Dumbledore also tells me one more surprise I’m excited to share with my friends tonight, while the rest of the school will be told in the morning. 

“Ms. Hunt, may I offer you one more piece of advice?” He asks as we reach the portrait of the fat lady. 

“Of course, professor,” I answer him. 

“In the course of my many years, I have heard a lot of foul rumors. Some about myself. The one thing I’ve noticed about all of them is that they are almost always false, and all from people who simply don’t understand or won’t understand one’s situation. As hard as it may be, pay no mind or attention to the rumors we heard upon our exit from the great hall,” Dumbledore tells me as he places a hand gently on my shoulder. “People tend to create such horrible things to say to cope with their internal issues. Not a single one I heard tonight defines you.”

“Thank you, sir. That does make me feel a bit better,” I tell him truthfully. 

“Of course,” he nods with a smile. “Goodnight, Ms. Hunt,” he says, turning away. 

“Um, professor?” I call after him.

“Yes?” He asks, turning to face me again. 

I smirk and point to the common room door. “I don’t have the password.”

Dumbledore chuckles and shakes his head. “Of course, my apologies. The password is ‘Fortuna Major.” 

I nod and Dumbledore turns and walks away as I turn back to the door. “Fortuna Major,” I tell the fat lady. She nods, and the doorway opens, allowing me to pass through. 

I walk into the common room and see my friends and the twins all waiting for me on the couches by the fire. Other than that, the common room is empty. Everyone else is probably still at the feast, given the fact that it doesn’t end for another hour. That, or they’re in their dorms, unpacking and settling in. When they see me, they all jump up excitedly. I walk over to Fred and George, giving them a big hug. 

“Are you alright?” George asks me as he kisses the top of my head. 

“Yes. He just wanted to talk to me about what I need to talk to all of you about,” I tell him as I pull back. “Also,” I smirk. “I got my own dorm room.” 

“What?!” They all ask in shock. 

“You lucky witch! How’d you manage that?” Ginny asks in surprise. 

“So that’s what the new door is for! Nobody could figure out how to open it,” Hermione laughs. 

“Yeah, I’m the only one who can unless someone has my password. I guess my dad and Dumbledore talked, and they decided that with everything going on, I should have my own space,” I explain as everyone still looks at me in shock. “So…” I smile wide. “You guys want to come check it out with me?” I ask them all excitedly. 

“Um, yes!” Hermione says excitedly as we start to walk toward the stairs. 

I turn around when I notice that the boys aren’t following us. “You guys coming?” I ask with a raised brow. 

They look at each other, and George scratches the top of his head. “Uh, it’s after eight, baby. No boys can be up there.” 

“Yeah, but we’ll wait here until you’re ready to talk,” Fred says with a look of disappointment. 

I smirk as I look at them. “Well, then, I guess it’s a good thing that my dorm is co-ed twenty-four-seven,” I smile wide. 

The boys look at me like I just sprouted seven heads. “What? Seriously?” George asks in shock. 

“How’d you swing that?” Ron asks in equal shock. 

I shrug my shoulders and smile. “I guess Dumbledore trusts me,” I giggle. They all immediately follow us up the stairs and to my door. “Okay, I need to think of a password so nobody except us can get in. Any ideas?” I ask our group. 

“Oo! One second, let’s make sure there’s nobody around first,” Hermione says, checking the dorms. “Okay, all clear,” she says when she comes back. 

“How about ‘butterfly’?” Ginny suggests, then shakes her head. “No, that’s too easy.” 

“How about your Mum’s maiden name? Nobody would be able to guess that,” Harry suggests next. 

“Excellent idea, Harry!” I say with a smile and turn to the door. I place my palm on the wood like Dumbledore told me to and set the password. “Password set to ‘Benson,’” I instruct the door. 

“Did it work?” Fred asks behind me. 

I shrug. “I don’t know, let’s see,” I say, gripping the door handle. “Benson,” the lock clicks, and the handle turns as I open the door. I gasp as I see my room. It’s beautiful. 

The room is huge. It’s square with the brick walls exposed. A big, four-poster queen bed is against the wall by my door, with a nightstand on both sides. A large table with a comfortable-looking chair overlooks my window, and next to it, a minifridge filled with Redbull, water bottles, and the potions I take every day. 

On the wall directly in front of my bed is a fireplace with a TV on top, filled with my favorite streaming services. In front of the fireplace, two small couches face each other, with a coffee table in the middle. On the left side of the room, a private bathroom and a wardrobe for all of my clothes. 

As we all explore my room, everyone tells me how much they love it. “And the best part?” I smile, moving to the green button by my wall. “You can all stay the night. This button summons beds, snacks, and drinks. I press it again, and they disappear,” I explain. 

“Wicked,” the twins say in sync as they sit on one of the couches. I smile and sit between them as everyone gets comfortable. 

“So, onto more serious matters,” I sigh. I need to talk to you all about something,” I tell them as my hands begin to shake. 

“You can tell us anything, y/n. We’ll listen,” Ginny says, giving me a reassuring smile.

“You’re our best mate,” Harry adds, pulling Ginny onto his lap. 

I nod and turn to look at Fred and George at my sides. “Whenever you’re ready, little one.”

I turn to look at everyone again and take a deep breath. “Please hold any questions or comments until I’m done. Because it’s a lot,” I ask everyone. Everyone nods as they wait for me to continue. I close my eyes, relax, and begin to explain. 

“So, as I’m sure you all noticed, I don’t eat a lot, or sometimes, not at all,” I take another deep breath and continue. “I have anorexia. It’s an eating disorder that causes me to starve myself. It started in my third year, and it got better in my fourth and fifth year, but it’s back,” I look down at my hands. “I’m not proud of it; as a matter of fact, I hate it,” I sniffle. “I’m just so ashamed of my body and so scared of getting fat that I can’t stop, even though I hate feeling so dizzy all of the time.”

Fred and George each take one of my hands, holding them tightly as I look back up at our friends. “I hate eating in large crowds. That’s why George and Hermione asked you guys to scoot down in the great hall. To prevent me from having to see anyone else or anyone else seeing me,” Ron covers his mouth and looks at me with a sympathetic expression. 

“I also have really bad anxiety. I take a potion for it every morning. Nobody knows because Molly would slip it into my coffee in the morning. I also carry around single servings of a stronger dose of it in case I have a bad anxiety attack. I hope you guys don’t think less of me or think I’m weird because of it. But I feel like I can trust all of you, and I feel like you won’t. It’s just hard sometimes because my anxiety tells me people will,” I finish explaining, wiping away the few tears that fall. 

Fred and George help me stand as everyone stands with them and they pull me into a big group hug. “We would never do that, y/n. You’re our best mate,” Harry reminds me. 

“Exactly. You’re like a sister to me. Hopefully soon, a sister-in-law,” Ginny adds, making all of us laugh as we pull back. 

Ron looks at me with a guilty look on his face and a tear falling from his eyes as he pulls me into a tight hug himself. “Merlin, I’m such an ass,” he sniffles. “Can you ever forgive me?” 

“Of course, I can, Ron,” I assure him as I pat his back before I pull back. “None of you knew.”

“Thank you for telling us,” Hermione says as she hugs me. “I’ll do some research, and I’m sure we can find a way to help you beat this.” 

I giggle as I pull back. “Thanks, ‘Mione. I can always count on you and your research,” I giggle. And turn to Fred and George, seeing them crying. They rarely cry, if ever at all. 

“I’m sorry if this is all too much,” I go to apologize, but before I can finish, they pull me into their chests, hugging me between them in my safe space. 

“Don’t you even think about finishing that sentence,” Fred tells me as he sniffles and kisses the top of my head. 

“You’re never too much, baby. We will always be here for you,” George assures me. They pull back and wipe my tears that started to fall again and kiss my cheeks. “Always,” George says as he looks into my eyes. 

I put my arms around their waists as they drape their arms over my shoulders when I turn back to our friends. “I have one more surprise,” I smile. “Dumbledore is giving everyone the day off tomorrow as a mental health day. He said he wants everyone to just relax and have an extra day on the grounds before school starts. So, I was thinking we break in my new room with a good old-fashioned sleepover.”

Everyone cheers, and I turn back to Fred and George. “You guys still have those bottles of Firewhiskey?” I ask, biting my lower lip with a smile. 

“Oh, baby,” George smirks and leans on my shoulder. “We have bottles for days,” he flirts, kissing my cheek. 

“Okay, but we need to be careful because Dumbledore said nobody else can know that you all are allowed in here after eight,” I warn him. 

“Here,” Harry says to Fred and George, reaching into his bag and pulling out his invisibility cloak. “Take this to go grab ‘em. Will you grab Ron and I pajamas, too? The four of us won’t fit under there,” he says, handing the cloak to Fred. 

“No problem, mate,” Fred says, taking the cloak from Harry and turning to me, kissing me deeply. “Be right back, little one,” he says with a wink. 

“I’ll come with you. I’ll hold the clothes while you hold the bottles,” George says to Fred before kissing me. “Back soon, darling,” he says with a smile as he gets under the cloak with Fred, and they sneak out of my dorm. 

“So,” I walk over to the green button on the wall and face my friends. “Should we press the button?” I ask with a smile. 

“Yes! But we should probably move the table and couches first, get them out of the way,” Hermione mentions. 

“Good point,” I agree. We push the couches out of the way and push the coffee table to the end of my bed, clearing the floor for whatever kind of beds pop up. “Alright,” I say with a smile as we finish, and I walk back over to the button. “Here goes nothing,” I say as I press the button. 

We gasp as two beds appear in front of the fireplace, adorned with pillows and fluffy-looking comforters. The table by the window magically fills with snacks and drinks. Chips, dips, cookies, pumpkin pasties, two liters of soda, a jug of pumpkin juice, and a kettle with hot chocolate. 

“Merlin, y/n. This is officially the coolest room I have ever seen in this castle,” Ginny squeals excitedly. 

“Um,” Hermione says with a blush. “Didn’t you say there would be the right number of beds for guests?” Hermione asks shyly as she looks at the two beds. 

I shrug. “Well, Dumbledore said couples were allowed, so maybe there’s a bed for each of you,” I suggest. “The magic probably knows you’re with Ron and that Ginny is with Harry.”

“If you’re not comfortable, Hermione, Harry, and I can take one, and you and Ginny can have the other,” Ron says, giving Hermione a reassuring smile. 

Hermione kisses his cheek and smiles. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. I was just curious,” Hermione says with a blush. 

“Cool, because I, for one, want to sleep with my boyfriend,” Ginny smiles and kisses Harry as he wraps an arm around his waist. 

My bedroom door opens and closes, looking empty until Fred and George remove the cloak, already dressed in pajamas, holding two bottles of Firewhiskey and pajamas for Rona and Harry. “Only two extra beds?” George asks as he hands Harry and Ron their pajamas. 

“The magic knows they’re together,” I quickly explain as Fred sets the bottles down on the table. 

“Oo, so we get to sleep with our girlfriend, too?” Fred flirts, wrapping an arm around my waist and dipping me. 

I giggle and kiss him. “Easy, tiger. Nobody is getting laid tonight.”

Fred lifts me back up and spins me in his arms to George, who catches me and sways. “Hey, no complaints here,” he says before leaning into my ear. “For tonight at least, baby.” 

“Just know you’re never getting rid of us now,” Fred says with a wink as he appears at George’s side. 

I laugh and roll my eyes. “Oh, no. Whatever will I do?” I ask in a flirty and sarcastic tone. 

For hours, we drink, eat, play cards and wizard chess, and eventually put on a movie as we all lay down. We all put on ‘Zombieland’ and mostly laugh at it. After the movie, our friends are knocked out hard, and I lay down between Fred and George on my bed, stretching my arms over my head as they wrap their arms around my waist. 

Fred leans in and kisses that sweet spot right behind my ear, making me hum in pleasure. “Can you be quiet for us, little one?” He asks flirtily, drawing lazy circles on my lower stomach. 

“Why do you ask, Freddie?” I ask, loving their touches. 

Fred and George look at each other and smirk before looking at me again. “We know you said ‘no fucking,’ but we want to finger you,” George says, biting his lower lip. 

I think about it for a moment, just the thought getting me wet. “What about the others?” I ask, not saying no.

Fred leans over the edge of the bed and lays back down next to me. “They’re passed out. We may or may not have put a sleeping potion in the bottle they were drinking from,” Fred says with a wink. “As long as you don’t get too loud, they won’t wake up.” 

I nod my head and bite my lower lip as Fred and George rub my thighs, making me clench them together. Maybe I’m crazy, but after all the teasing today, I need a release. “And you two are okay with not going all the way?” I ask, double-checking. 

“Completely,” they whisper together with devious smirks. 

“Plus, you deserve a reward after today,” George says, kissing my neck as his fingers trail up the inner part of my thigh, making them fall open on their own. 

“Mm, okay,” I hum softly. “I’m in.” 

“That’s our good girl,” Fred praises. “Just lay your pretty little head back and relax while we take care of you.” 

George quietly pulls back the covers and positions himself between my thighs. His fingers graze over my skin as he moves up the waistband of my sleep shorts, setting off sparks wherever he touches. He pulls down my shorts and panties, and his tongue pokes out to lick his bottom lip. “Mm, fuck. She’s glistening, Fred,” he smirks and looks at Fred next to me. 

Fred leans down to look at my pussy, making me blush as a low groan escapes his chest. “So wet for us, huh, little one?” 

I whimper with need at their words as Fred moves back to lean over me from my side. “Yes,” I moan softly as George swipes one finger painfully slow between my folds. 

Fred removes my shirt, leaving me bare before them. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he praises me as he leans down and takes one of my nipples into his mouth, drawing another small moan from my lips. 

George rubs slow circles around my sensitive clit as he slides one finger, then another, inside of me. “So tight and wet,” George praises. 

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” I moan as George starts to thrust his fingers in and out faster.

 “You like that, little one?” Fred asks as he switches nipples, pinching and rolling the one he was just sucking. 

“Yes, mm, I love it,” I moan, rolling my hips to meet George’s fingers. He pulls them out, making me whimper at the loss until I feel him shift, and his tongue meets my clit, licking and sucking on it as he slides two fingers back into me, curling and thrusting them in a delicious rhythm. “God, yes, George,” I moan, my back arching. 

George moans against my clit as his arm wraps around my hip and thigh, holding me in place. “You taste fucking devine,” he groans. 

Fred swallows my moans as he kisses me deeply, taking my bottom lip between his teeth. “Fred,” I moan softly when he pulls back. “I want to suck your cock,” I whimper against his lips. 

Fred chuckles darkly against my lips. “Is that so, little one?” he asks. I nod my head with another moan as George sucks my clit again. “How do you ask?” Fred teases me. 

“Freddie, please,” I moan softly, one of my hands moving down to clutch George’s hair as he laps at my clit and thrusts his fingers inside of me faster. 

Fred sits up, pulling down his pajama pants and boxers, freeing his long and hard cock. My mouth waters at the large size of it. I part my lips, sticking out my tongue to accept his cock in my mouth as he slides it in. “Fuck, you look so good with my cock in your mouth, little one,” Fred praises me. “Doesn’t she, George?” He turns and asks George with a groan as I take him deeper. 

“Like a fucking vision, Fred,” George says breathily before going back to my clit, flicking it fast with his tongue and making me mewl around Fred’s cock. 

I take his cock deeper in my throat, swallowing around him and hollowing my cheeks to create more suction as I bob my head up and down his long shaft. “Yes, just like that,” he moans, tilting his head back. “Fuck, switch me, George. I need to taste her now,” Fred groans. 

“Mm, don’t mind if I do,” George groans as he withdraws his fingers, and they switch places, making me whimper. 

“Needy, aren’t we, little one?” Fred teases me as he settles between my thighs and licks a long, slow line from my entrance to my clit. I hum and nod my head, making him smirk. “Guess we better take care of you then,” he winks and plunges his tongue into my entrance. 

I gasp as my back arches, and I grab the sheets of my bed. “Shh, don’t want to wake anyone,” George chuckles as he leans down and kisses me deeply, letting me taste myself on his tongue. “Mm, you want to suck my cock too, baby?” George asks me as he bites my lower lip. 

“Yes, Georgie, fuck, I want it,” I moan as he pulls down his pants and boxers. I grasp George’s cock, taking it into my mouth as Fred’s tongue moves to my clit and his fingers thrust into me harshly, making me whimper. 

“My God, you taste so good,” Fred groans against my clit, adding a perfect amount of vibration. My thighs attempt to clamp together around his head as I moan, taking George further down my throat. Fred forces them back open and thrusts three fingers inside of me. “Keep your fucking legs open,” he demands. The roughness of his hands, the demanding voice, and his sinfully skilled fingers only drive me closer and closer to the edge. 

I pull back off of George’s cock, stroking his cock and taking a breath of air. “Fuck, I’m going to cum,” I moan pathetically as my legs begin to shake. 

George thrusts his cock back into my mouth, gathering my hair in his hand and holding my head still as he starts to fuck my throat. “Good girl, cum for us, baby,” he moans, biting his lower lip. 

“Cum on my face like our good little slut,” Fred orders as he flicks my clit with his tongue faster and thrusts his fingers into me harder, curling his fingers and hitting that perfect spot inside of me. 

I force myself to take George in my throat all the way to his base, gagging around him as my orgasm starts to crest. “God, yes. Swallow my fucking cum, baby,” George moans as his cock twitches in my throat. My legs begin to shake uncontrollably as George spills himself down my throat, sending me right over the edge myself. His cock barely contains my moans as Fred holds my hands down at my sides, riding me through my orgasm with his devilish tongue as I swallow every drop of his twin’s cum. 

When George pulls himself out of my throat, he kisses me harshly, not caring about tasting himself on my lips. I pull back with a gasp as I look down at Fred. “Freddie, I want you to cum down my throat, too,” I plead. I had only just cum, and I already need more. 

Fred smirks and bites his lip as he comes up to my other side. “Your wish is my command. Open up, little one,” he instructs me as he presses his cock to my lips. “Fuck, that mouth,” Fred groans as I take him to the base, and he grips my hair tight. 

George’s fingers find their way back to my sensitive clit, rubbing circles around the tender nub. “I want you to be a good girl and cum for us again. Can you do that for us, baby?” he teases as his fingers slide to my entrance and back to my clit. I nod against Fred’s cock, and he harsh;y pulls me off of his cock by my hair, making me whimper. 

“He asked you a question. Use your words, little one. Are you going to be our good girl?” Fred asks in a low, demanding voice that makes me fucking feral. 

“Yes,” I hiss as he pulls my hair harder, only making me more wet. 

“Yes, what?” He groans, his cock twitching as the tip drips with pre-cum. 

“Yes, I’ll be your good girl,” I answer, sticking out my tongue and licking the slit on his cock where his pre-cum is dripping.

Fred hisses, and a low growl comes from his throat. “That’s our good girl,” George praises as he thrusts three fingers into my entrance, as his thumb rubs my clit. “Such a good little slut for us. Cum all over my fingers, baby,” George moans as my legs begin to shake. 

Fred pulls me off of his cock again. “Who’s good little girl, are you?” He teases me. 

“Yours and Georgie’s,” I moan softly. 

“That’s fucking right,” Fred groans as he thrusts himself inside of my mouth again and starts to fuck my throat. I feel myself come undone as Fred cums down my throat, shooting hot, salty ropes of cum down my throat, holding my head still as he gives me every drop. I feel my walls clench around George’s fingers, moaning and whimpering pathetically around Fred’s cock. 

When Fred pulls himself from my throat, he grabs my throat and slams his lips to mine as George fixes his pants and puts my shorts and panties back on, leaving soft, gentle kisses up my legs. “Woman, you’re going to be the death of me,” Fred whispers against my lips. 

“I could say the same to you two,” I whisper back as George lays back down next to me. 

Fred chuckles and sits me up, sliding my shirt back on and laying down on my other side. “You good, baby?” George asks me, drawing lazy circles on my hips. 

I smile and nod as I look at him. “So good,” I say quietly as Fred runs his fingers through my hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard in my life,” I giggle. 

Fred chuckles and kisses my neck softly. “You say that now, little one. Just wait until we get our cocks buried inside of you.” 

“We’ll wear you out,” George flirts with a wink. 

“Mm,” I hum, satisfied as I close my eyes and yawn. “Can’t wait.”

“Goodnight, beautiful,” Fred says, kissing me good night. 

“Goodnight, Freddie,” I say against his lips. 

George tilts my face to him, holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Goodnight, my love.” 

“Goodnight, Georgie,” I say, kissing him just before sleep pulls me under with their arms wrapped around my waist.

[rottenherbs]

Matchmaker // pt.2 // F.W x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: After your small escapade with Fred, you make your way to the Gryffindor common room to sort the papers and learn a little more about each other.  

Authors note: silly goofy chapter. Honestly I wasn’t going to write at all today, but I found some solace in it. I have to put my family cat down tomorrow and I’m like conflicted in my grief. SO I shall give the people what they want. Part three coming sometime soon —

[masterlist]

Much Love, Saige 

————————

The castle hallways were unsurprisingly empty. It was considerably late at night and most students were barred away in their dormitories; you two just barely made it to the common room before curfew was in place. On the way back you both joked about the romance between students and the stereotypes you find most in your clientele —

“I’d consider myself to be one of the hopeless romantic types.” Fred boasts, his hand on his chest, looking up to the air dramatically. You roll your eyes, both of you halting at the portrait of the fat lady. “But something tells me that you knew that already?” He wagged his eyebrows, nudging you playfully. Ignoring his gesture, you shake your head. 

“Mimbulus Mimbletonia”. The painting swung open, Fred again bowing and ushering you in first. 

”Alright alright, I get it, you’re a gentleman.” You laugh, stepping through the corridor. Fred scoffs, standing jokingly aghast before following you behind. Fred didn’t respond, just smiled to himself watching you walk through the common room.

 Looking around, he noticed it was quite vacant, happy at the prospect that you two could hang out together alone, no one to bother you. Turning to the warmth to his left, he eyed the coveted spots in front of the fireplace that were open for the taking. 

“Pst.” Fred pestered, getting your attention. He cocked his head towards the fireplace, walking over there himself. Plopping on the large couch, his legs spread wide taking up most of the sofa. You walked over, hesitating where you should sit. Contemplating the proximity you’d be comfortable being next to him, the idea of your thighs touching sent flutters through your stomach. Biting your lip lightly, you walked around to the front of the fire, setting your belongings on the floor. 

Fred watched you casually, a small ping of disappointment that you didn’t decide to sit next to him, but grateful that he now had a better view of you. 

Reaching into your book bag, you grabbed a conglomerate of papers, passing a few over to Fred. Outstretching his hand, your fingers grazed each other, the act was temporary and unimportant, but the feeling was everlasting. You released the papers, attempting in any way possible to hide the nervousness that suddenly overcame you.

Fred on the other hand was thrilled, the feeling only making him itch for more contact with you. He took the papers and laid them in his lap, flickering his gaze to you every so often, noticing how fidgety you suddenly became. 

“Alright, let’s see your knowledge on the student population eh?” You cleared your throat, breaking the silence. Fred nodded, shuffling through the papers, fanning them all in front of himself. 

“How do you remember all of this stuff, there has to be thousands of students at Hogwarts.” Fred chucked, suddenly becoming more aware that he in fact did not know the students like he bragged about just hours prior. 

“Actually its there is just over 975 this year.” You shrugged your shoulders. “But honestly, im just in a lot of clubs. Easy to know people's faces and learn about them.” You started 7 piles in front of you, one for each year. 

“Clubs? What clubs are you in.” Fred inquired, his eyebrows raising. He was surprised that you had time for anything outside of schoolwork and your little matchmaking busniess. 

“Um well.” You sat up, facing Fred more directly, thinking of where to start. You held out your hand, beginning to point at your fingers to keep track “Okay so Monday’s, Dueling club and Gobstones, Tuesday mornings there’s charms club before charms class, Dragon club after school. Wednesdays; Slugs and Bugs—“

”Slugs and Bugs?” 

“Yes. Slugs and bugs.” You laughed, looking down at your hands. “I’m running out of room and we're only on Wednesday.” You giggled, dropping your hands to your lap. Freds eyes were wide in amazement and disbelief. 

“That’s why I never see you around. You’re in seven places at once!” He attempted to remember all of the clubs you named off, but quickly gave up, soon realizing it was a lost cause. 

“Yeah i like to stay busy” You shrug, slightly embarrassed. You look back up at Fred, his face still bewildered; you could see the wheels turning in his head. 

“Sooo… What do you like to do?” You ask, bringing him back to reality. He set the papers down in his lap, not even attempting to sort them anymore.

”I suppose just quidditch.” He looked at you, slightly disappointed that his answer wasn’t as grand as yours. 

“Oh yes!! You're a beater right? Tough position if you ask me.” You exclaimed excitedly. You could sense a switch in his demeanor after you responded positivity, secretly enjoying the way his eyes lit up. 

”Yeah. Gotta be at least a little tough if you're getting hit with bludgers.” He raised both of his arms, flexing them dramatically. 

“Maybe you got hit in the head one too many times.” You chuckled, watching the cockiness in his face switch to utter surprise. “I’m kidding im kidding” You put your hands up in defense, laughing even harder. 

“Hey..you've got the brains I've got the brawn.” He laughed, knocking his knuckles against his head, imitating an empty chamber where his brain would be.

Fred relaxes back into the sofa watching you keel over in laughter. Something deep inside him fluttered at the sound of your laugh. The way it enveloped the room, the way it unconsciously made him smile wanting to join in. Something about you pulled him to you; and he loved it. After a little while you caught your breath, getting back to sorting the papers in front of you. Making great progress, Fred just watched you, his thoughts traveling to all corners of his mind; some innocent and some not. 

Watching you made his head spin, the way you sorted the papers, how your hands brushed the hair out of your face, your eyes glancing up at him every so often. His mind was racing. He’d pick up the papers, hiding his face behind the students trying to calm himself down. He wasn’t sure how fast it got out of hand, his body reacting to his thoughts now too far gone, he had to leave. 

Wringing his hands, he felt an overwhelming sense of heat in his body. His body rambling in inappropriate thoughts, mentally kicking himself for allowing him to think of you that way; at least this fast into knowing you. Getting up from his chair, he adjusted his trousers quickly, the movement completely unknown to you, turning and facing away from you,

“I’m hitting the loo! One moment—“ he rushed out of the room, leaving you by the fireplace alone. As Fred left the common room, he immediately shut himself into the bathroom, his face hot from embarrassment. He mentally begged any god or angel above that you didn’t see anything, stress overtaking him. Running the tap, he splashed cold water on his face, cupping his hands lightly and drinking to cool his system. Looking at himself in the mirror, he paused suddenly insecure.

“Get it together Weasley.” He thought to himself. He glanced at his watch wondering how long he had left you alone. Taking another look at himself in the mirror he felt satisfied with his appearance, the blood in his body now flowing with ease. Brushing his fingers through his hair, he set out to meet you again.

Once Fred was out of sight, you glanced around the common room. Huffing lightly, you looked over at his stack of papers on the couch, the students still jumbled together. Taking them back to your pile, you sit, holding them in your hands taking the opportunity to let your mind wander. You started to think about how he looked, how he listened to you so adimentqly. He wasn’t bored by your clubs or how strange you knew about every student in the castle. But mainly you thought about him.

How his body lazily draped over the couch, his long body slightly overtaking the space between you, but in a way that was inviting, and invigorating. He laid comfortably, the conversation between you two so natural. His muscular frame, no doubt from quidditch, even when he joked about his muscles you couldn’t help but noticed how they rippled below his uniform. It was undeniably attractive, the thoughts making you shiver. Shaking your head, you attempted to physically emit the contemplation of any mutual feelings of desire.

Were you jumping too far to conclusions?

[wslydoxy]

ink-stained hands.

fred weasley x fem!reader

warnings: the readers house isn't specified, and the term princess is used once.

Fred Weasley the ever-charming never-flailing flirt. Always popular around the girls, always having that annoyingly cocky smirk on his face, him and his infuriatingly pretty smile and knee-shaking height. you on the other hand were the girl always writing, always a roll of parchment and ink bottle evident in your hands.

Unbeknownst to you the redhead had a tiny crush on you, "it's microscopical George!" he would defend himself, he just wanted to know why your hands were always filled with books or parchment and as if evidence of them being in your hands prior, ink stains. Whether you acknowledged it or not, when you were in the room the older twin's eyes were always set on you, If it was in curiosity or admiration was unknown to him as well. You just had an aura to you, one that drew him in a way he couldn't explain.

You of course always had seen the redhead and his twin around the school, you saw them yelling in joy after a quidditch game or just after a good prank. A small attraction may have sparked towards the boy but you always swept it under the rug knowing it wouldn't lead anywhere anyway, If only you knew how wrong you were.

No matter how many teasing looks from his friends when you were in the room, it was not enough for the boy to get over his initial nerves to talk to you. but after one extraordinarily good game of quidditch here he was, adrenaline rushing through his veins, in front of your dorm room waiting for you to open the door.

You open the door perplexed, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape “Uh- Fred Weasley, right?” you ask. “Uh yeah, look- listen I see how weird this probably is and I honestly Merlin don't know how else to put this except that you're really pretty and for some reason, you're always distracted writing something or another and it's so infuriatingly attractive how you don't notice anything I do, no matter how I hard I try to get your attention and I think it's adorable how your hands are always stained with the ink you use and how you always have something smart to say in class and how absolutely funny your sarcastic replies are and honestly? I just reallyreallyfancyyou” he spits, chest heaving from the whirlwind of words, saying the last part all in one go.

You look at him eyes fully open, you haven't quite fully processed what the redhead said, after a moment you slowly, quietly question “You fancy..me?” you say your left hand pointing to him then yourself. “Um yeah? is that okay?” he questions his resolve melting slightly with your extended reaction time. “That is more than okay, that is great if u ask me, I would totally love to be liked by you because I totally maybe kinda fancy you too?” you say voice going quiet by the end of the sentence.

By the end of your sentence, you look up to see Fred with a completely cocky smile and his usual confident front back “You fancy me too? How perfect, care to tell me how exactly I caught your eye over a cup of butterbeer this weekend?” the boy is full on leaning on your door frame at this point, quidditch robes still on and quite honestly looked hot right now. “How can I say no to that,” you said smiling up at him. “I'll see you this weekend for the date. and tomorrow for breakfast too? Or will I see you at the after-game party tonight?” he asked joy glazing his features due to your acceptance of the date.

You gave yourself a once over in your pyjamas and messy hair and then shifted your eyes up at him eyes squinted and mouth in a straight line, “Yeah about that, I don't think I'm in the prettiest state right now.” humour evident in your voice, “I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow and definitely for that cup of butterbeer” “Yeah I'll see you tomorrow y/n” he says smiling and looking at you head to toe, checking you out quite openly.

A voice hauntingly similar to Fred's twin is heard calling for Fred to come to the common room, and party full-on rage as the loud music is deafening. “You better get going then yeah? people are waiting for you” you smile beckoning him to go, “yeah I should,” he pauses looking you in the eye “I think you look pretty damn cute, even in your pj's princess” the endearing term whispered leaving you with a slight blush dusting your features, and he was gone before you could reply.

With a shake of your head and an airy laugh, you close the door and go to bed with an ever-present smile just to not sleep most of the night, going over the earlier events that had unfolded seemed to keep you up. Smile still gracing your features as you went to breakfast the next morning, and if you put a little extra effort into your hair and makeup just to have it all messed up in the room of requirement by a certain redhead, no one had to know.

[joka13]

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 31

WARNINGS: light kissing

"Merlin's beard..." Fred whispers in disbelief.

"We've done it!" you exclaim, squealing cheerily and clapping your hands together.

"No," George says. "You've done it!" He stands up, taking your hand and leading you into an energetic dance. You both laugh as he spins you around.

"I hardly did anything," you humbly point out. "The Room gave me the last ingredient."

Before you can think about it, George passes you to Fred, who rolls his eyes and says, "Whatever! You found all of the other pieces." He ends the dance with a dip. As he cradles you in his arms, Fred leans down so his face is only inches away from yours. You can't help but giggle as he proceeds to plant multiple kisses all over your face. "Thank you, y/n," Fred says sincerely, then kisses you once more on the lips.

"Aww," you swoon and blush as Fred lifts you upright. "It was nothing really..."

"Let's collect the remaining nougat!" George says, rubbing his hands together excitedly before placing his bag on the table by the cauldron. "We can start selling tomorrow!"

Fred goes to help his twin carefully cut the purple candy into small rectangles. "Our Skiving Snackboxes are now complete!"

At hearing these words, a feeling of dread wells up inside you. The first time you'd felt this particular dread, you'd told yourself to simply stop worrying. But now that the moment had come in which the Weasley twins would no longer have use for your academic skills, you begin to panic.

"No... no, no, no, no..." you whisper. You turn away so that Fred and George don't see the tears in your eyes. But, before you can pull yourself together, the twins notice that something is wrong. The shuffling sounds at the table behind you stop.

"Y/n?" Fred asks.

"Are you alright?" George finishes.

"I-I'm fine," you reply, though your shaky voice betrays you.

You cover your face in shame as you hear the twins' footsteps coming toward you.

"Hey, hey," Fred's voice says softly, concerned. You feel his fingers try to coax your hands away from your face, but you keep your palms tight over your leaking eyes, moving away and accidentally bumping into George.

George steadies you with a gentle hug. "What's the matter?" he asks.

You choke. "It's stupid..."

"Your feelings aren't stupid," Fred consoles. His fingers pry at yours once again, and this time you let him pull your hands away from your face. You look up to meet his eyes as he stands behind George, resting his chin on his brother's shoulder. He gives you an empathetic, crooked smile. The sight of it overwhelms you, bringing more tears to your eyes, and you hide your face against George's chest.

"Talk to us," George encourages. He rubs your back soothingly.

You take in a deep breath. "I... I got t-the idea into m-my head a while back... that when I was finished h-helping you with project nosebleed..." you sniff. "You wouldn't... w-want me around anymore..."

For a moment that felt like a lifetime, neither of the twins speak. Then you feel George's hold loosen around you, and you look up at his face in confusion.

"You're right," George says, his brow furrowing and his mouth in a frown. "That is stupid."

"George!" Fred hisses at him, but you just chuckle gingerly.

"I know, I know..."

George takes a step back as Fred quickly comes forward to hold your hands. He kisses the top of each. You won't look him in the eyes, so he crouches down to where he can see yours.

"Y/n," Fred sighs, shaking his head and smiling. "Have our previous affections meant nothing to you?"

You start to defend yourself. "W-well, there are some people in this world—"

You hadn't noticed him come up behind you, so you gasp in surprise when George's arms snake around your waist. He kisses the top of your head and continues, going down your temple and to your ear. He nibbles at it, causing you to giggle and squirm, but he holds you in place.

"We have no intention of ever leaving you," George whispers into your ear, and you love the sound of his voice, for something about it makes you sure he's telling the truth.

"In fact," Fred begins, pausing to glance at George attentively. You sense a moment of tension, and then George nods. Fred grins ecstatically and goes on. "We were hoping you would leave with us."

TAG LIST: @tomhockstetter7-111 @jasm-1ne @costheticbabe @luthien-elvenia-asher @megablonde22 @thecuteavocado @weasleylady92 @websfromallthespiders @rubyintheforest @weasleylover4eva @georgeweasleyslostearhq @im-coolrat @them-cute-boys @xmadigurlx @keirasinbin @huayan

[slaymybreathaway]

Love Potion (George Weasley x Reader)

Part 1 of ?

Content: cursing, friendly banter

Word Count: 1.4k

♡ Main Masterlist

♡ Wizarding World Masterlist

♡ Mini-series Chapterlist

I sat at the table in the Gryffindoor common room, my head bent over a textbook as I searched for something, anything that would be of use to me. Beside me was an empty sheet of parchment with the words 'The Ethics of Love Potions' scrawled at the top of it.

I heard footsteps coming from the staircase that led up to the dorms, but I didn't look behind me to see who it was. I was too focused on getting this essay done, even though it was nearing midnight.

"What are you doing out of bed after lights out?" A voice spoke, in a horrible impression of Professor McGonnagal. A few years ago, I would be frightened by the words alone but I knew better now. I could know that voice anywhere.

"Hello Georgie," I chuckled, keeping my eyes on the textbook as the tall rehead padded along the carpeted wood floors to sit on the seat opposite mine.

"How'd you know it was me?" He asked with a cheeky smirk, his eyes twinkling in the light of the fire that was permanently alight in the common room.

I glanced up at him, before returning my gaze to the paper infront of me. "You're not the best at impressions... Fred's much better," I shrug, trying to hide my smile.

George scoffed as he leaned back in his chair crossing his arms over his chest. "No he's not. I'm much better than Fred is. Much better looking too, you kn-" he started to get annoyed as he spoke, but stopped in his tracks once he saw me trying to stifle a giggle. "You tosser," he rolled his eyes when he realised I was just messing with him.

♡

I met the Weasley twins when I was nine years old. Our fathers worked in the ministry together and became close friends so Arthur Weasley decided to invite me and my Dad along to his family's camping trip to the lake.

As soon as we arrived, my eyes were drawn to the two boys around my age that looked exactly like eachother. They stood with their hands in their pockets, as grown ups often do, with michevious grins plastered onto their faces.

Their father introduced them as Fred and George though then, I couldn't tell which one was which.

"Do you talk?" One of them asked.

"Or just stand there staring at us?" The other one finished, tilting his head to the left as he spoke.

"I talk," I crossed my arms, trying to make myself appear tougher than I was. "And I wasn't staring at you, I was just..." my voice trailed off, as I struggled to come up with a lie.

"It's alright," one of them shrugged.

"We get it alot," the other jut in.

"It's because of our rugged good looks,"

The first raised his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth to ask what good looks he was referring to when the other one spoke again.

"Well my good looks, he's an ugly git," he spoke, nodding his head towards his identical twin brother. I laughed at the joke, watching the boy who said it closely. He had a small bump on his nose, one that separated him from his brother, and always seemed to speak second.

"Hey!" The first brother shouted, throwing a fake punch that turned into a playful brawl. Neither of them hit to hurt and it was more dramaticed than serious. They both stopped when their mother pulled them apart and scolded them, to which they just giggled about as soon as her back was turned.

By the end of the trip I had become best friends with the twins. Every weekend that followed, I begged my dad to take me to the Burrow to see them and every weekend that he said no, he'd come home from work to find George and Fred sitting in his kitchen, eating biscuits.

I loved them both dearly but George always intruiged me the most. When I was younger it was just pure fascination, a need to be close to him so that I could figure out why he seemed to always have that mischevious glint in his eye. As I grew older, these feelings of fascination turned to feelings of infatuation. My stomach seemed to flutter whenever he was around, my mind foggy when he said my name in that affectionate tone that he uses.

My love for George is a secret that I'd take to the grave. He is my best friend after all, the person who knows me best, the only one that can cheer me up when I'm feeling blue. I wouldn't fuck that up for the world

♡

"What are you doing still up anyways? I doubt the potions essay is what's keeping you awake," I asked, closing my textbook with a sigh.

A look of fright crossed George's, usually carefree, face. "We had a potions essay?"

I let out a laugh, handing him my parchment. "Yeah, due last class tomorrow. You'd want to have a move on,"

Georges eyes scanned the parchment as he sighed in relief. "Fucking scared me there. I got a Hufflepuff to do it for me, in exchange for a pack of Puking Pastilles," he slid the parment back across the table.

I shook my head at this but said nothing, I learned long ago that any arguing with the twins over schoolwork is a waste of time.

"How come you're having trouble with it?" George asked, his gaze running over my face. "You're fucking brilliant at potions,"

I ran a hand over my face, trying to disguise the smile that was growing on my face at his compliment. It was true, I was top of the class in Potions and was the one who created the recipes for the twins' Skiving Snackboxes but hearing George say it, however, made me feel important.

"Yeah but this isn't just about making the potion, it's about debating whether it's right or not in the grand scheme of things," I rambled on, as I usually do when talking about potions. "And I don't know what to write because I've never been under the effects of a love potion,"

George laughed at this. "Really? Never been given one by a love-struck second year?" He asked with a look of joking suprise.

"No!" I rolled my eyes at his joke "Though I'm suprised neither you or Fred has asked me to brew one up to try and woo Angelina Johnstone," I chuckled.

"Me?" George asked, his eyebrows furrowed "What would I want to do with Angelina Johnstone? She's Fred's girl,"

I put my hand's up, in defence. "Just an example! I don't exactly get told about all the girls you fancy," I pointed out.

George opened his mouth to speak but then quickly shut it again, like he had decided against what he was going to say. "Fair... what are you gonna do about this essay then? Spike yourself with a love potion just to see what it's like?" he joked.

"Hardly," I sighed, looking down. "Even if I did, who would be willing to have me make a fool of myself infront of them for two hours?"

We sat in silence for a few moments, with me tracing the letters on the front cover of my potions textbook and George staring into the fireplace, his face full of thought.

"You could do it with me if you want?" George finally spoke. "I mean, you always make a fool of yourself infront of me, anyways. This wouldn't be that different,"

I almost choked on my spit at his words. "What? You're seriously considering this?" I put my hands on the table.

The boy infront of me shrugged. "Better it be your best friend than some poor, unsuspecting sod," he let out a smile. "Besides, I need something new to slag you about. I've been overusing the 'can't get a boyfriend to save your life' joke too much recently, and it's starting to become a bit mean,"

I scowl when he says that last bit, before my face drops into a look of consideration. Of course, I wouldn't get to figure out the true ethics of love potions, since I'm already in love with George without the need for anything to inhance it but... it would help me to where I stand on the use of love potions.

"Alright... let's do it,"

♡

Yay!!! So excited to be doing a lil George miniseries

Comment to be added to taglist x

[ickle-ronniekins]

it's the way i have a 7500 word george weasley fic from like 3 years ago when i was writing consistently that went unpublished and it's giving me the BIG feels rn

[wisssp]

Whistling in the Dark

again: this is a Weasley twins x oc piece, if you don't like it-don't read it(:

female reader; first person pov; slow burn; smut; minors-DNI

wc: 1,387

Chapter 4

The party had come to an end, Paige and I being the last two guests over. We had agreed to help the boys clean up, due to losing a bet. We put on some good music and sped up the cleaning process to the best of our ability. We tied off the last couple trash bags and saw the clock was right at 3 in the morning.

"Do you two just want to stay here for the remainder of the night?" Harry's voice pipes up with the simple question that he wasn't aware was extremely weighted. The tension thickened the air instantly when Paige spoke up.

"I don't see why that would be an issue. Lee, you game?" I looked at her completely shocked that she asked zero questions.

"Where would we sleep? I don't want to wake up to your pervy house mates watching me sleep." I cross my arms over my chest and look at everyone expectantly.

"You can crash with us, Lady Bird, and Paige can crash with Ronald. Boom. Problem solved." George throws everyone a thumbs up and starts making his way up the stairs to his room. Paige looked at me and shrugged, also making her way up the stairs. I guess i'm the only one that thinks this is a recipe for disaster. I reach the bottom of the stairs when Fred appears next to me.

"After you." He motions up the stairs with his hand and a sly smirk dances on his lips. I start walking up, his eyes burning a hole through my dress. I then arrive at their door and turn the handle as quietly as I can. Once I close the door behind me, I turn to be welcomed with the mixed scents of smoke and cinnamon. I see various reds and greens strewn across the room, differentiating their things. I also see George fixing up a makeshift bed with a ton of blankets.

"So Lady Bird, you'll be in my bed and i'll be on the floor." Fred guides me toward his side of the room and smiles at me warmly.

"Unless you get too cold and want some body heat." George looks up at me and winks. I laugh and roll my eyes in response. As i'm about to ask for some pajamas, Fred throws a shirt and some boxers my way. I thank him and move to the bathroom to change. I quickly get dressed and go make myself comfortable in my bed for the night.

"Thanks for sleeping on the floor, Fred." I express to the darkness.

"Uh huh." he responds.

"Fred are you really upset?" George laughs.

"It's cold down here and my bed is soft." Fred pouts while we continue to laugh.

"You offered this, I don't know what you want from me." I shrug even though he can't see me.

"I know what he wants from you-" I hear George start before he's cut off by a loud smack, followed by a tiny 'ow'. I giggle at their nonsense and bid them goodnight, slowly drifting off to sleep.

~

I open my eyes and quickly understand it's still the middle of the night, however my bladder doesn't have any concept of time. After I relieve myself, I carefully tip toe over to the bed when I accidentally kick the fuck out of Fred. I fell to my knees and pressed my palms against him, profusely apologizing. He's lightly chuckling at me and reassuring that he's okay when I go to get up. He grabs my ankle.

"Can I please share the bed with you? It really sucks down here." Fred is practically pleading. I can't blame him, considering I just kicked him. On the other hand, I want to have fun with this.

"You have to ask me from your knees."

"Are you fucking mad?" He stares at me.

"Have fun on the ground, Weasley." I sit on the side of the bed.

"Wait, hold on." He grabs my ankle once again and slides over in front of me. His hands drift up my legs and land high up on my thighs. He lifts himself to his knees as his hands trail up my sides. At this moment, we are eye to eye thanks to the foot's difference in our height. He pushes my hair behind my ear and leans in towards me.

"May I..." he whispers and his lips meet my neck.

"Please..." kiss.

"Sleep with..." kiss.

"You." another kiss.

No longer able to control myself, I grab his face in my hands and bring his lips to mine. He tastes slightly of vanilla which makes me weak in the knees. He hovers over me and places his hand under my back, moving us towards the headboard. His lips move softly against mine, bringing a small moan from the back of my throat. He starts kissing my chest and inching his way up my neck, placing hickeys along the way. He then grips the back of my neck with his other hand and bites my lower lip, kissing me hard.

This lights a fire in me and guides me to flip us over so I'm straddling him. I remove my shirt and he continues to run his hands down my body, leaving a trail of fire wherever he touches. I moan into his mouth as I start to fumble with the waistband of his boxers. He begins to smile into the kiss as he grabs my hand, moving it away. I pull out of the kiss.

"What's wrong?" I whisper.

"I really think we've both had a lot to drink and need to slow down here." He lightly chuckles. I pull back, almost offended at the statement after he just begged to get in this bed with me.

"If that's how you feel i'm not arguing with you." I get off of him and turn my back to him, pulling the covers up around my neck.

"You can sleep here but if I feel you even so much as breathe on me, i'm pushing you on the floor." I mumble towards the wall.

"I'm real sorry Lady Bird, I didn't mean to piss you off." He almost sounded concerned, but I really couldn't give less of a fuck to be honest.

"Please, Frederick. I'm trying to sleep." I try to get him to stop talking and leave me be.

"Lee, i'm serious i'm not trying to offend you." He goes to place a hand on my arm, but I quickly put a pillow between us, making him draw his arm back rather quickly.

"Fred. Shut the fuck up. Please." I really just don't want to talk about it anymore at this point.

"Seriously? Lee, come on now." He once again goes to grab my arm.

"Fred I am not fucking around. I will push you off of this bed." I glare at him over my shoulder. He finally lays down flat on his back.

"Merlin, Fred. She only had to ask you to stop about seventy times." George pipes up from a few feet away, followed by another loud smack and a small 'ow'. I smile a bit at the wall. I start getting comfortable, when moments later I realize I can't sleep.

Did I come on too strong? Is he not as attracted to me as I think he is? Am I obsessed with him?

So many questions and thoughts are running through my head, making it even harder for me to relax. I then feel a calloused hand grab onto my upper thigh, pulling me backward. My back hits a toned chest and I then realize that the pillow is gone.

I feel a soft kiss on the top of my head as his arms wrap around me tightly. I'm still upset but I'm too tired to push him away.

"You seriously don't know how long i've waited to kiss you again. I am very grateful for the opportunity." I feel another kiss on the top of my head, followed by a deep inhale and sigh.

"G'night Lady bird. Sweetest dreams."

[cherbetcandy]

blog introduction!

hey guys! my name is cheryl (cher for short) and i'm a fanfic writer for harry potter characters (mostly x reader lmao)

please don't judge, it's all fiction and i'm just here to have fun honestly :)

THIS IS A NSFW BLOG MINORS DNI PLEASE

i was born in 2003 and as of now, i'm 21!

i've never written harry potter aus so i might not be very good at first but i'll try by best! i hope you can support me <333\

status: active!

requests/asks: open! soft/hard thoughts are always welcome as well <33

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

A Weekend at the Weasley's

| George Weasley x ravenclaw!reader

summary: you and george become best friends after a poorly timed prank. george has been pestering you for weeks to stay with him at the Burrow for a weekend over the holidays, and you finally cave.

cw: smut (MDNI 18+), dead parents, pining, Percy being a weirdo, quidditch injury and bruising, george still has two ears and a twin, lots of dirty talk and petnames, equal parts fluff and smut

an: george and reader are over eighteen in this fic. timeline is def wrong. but who caaaaaaares bc it's not me!

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“C’mon, feathers,” George begged, shifting from his place on the couch to kneeling on the floor in front of you. “I promise you’ll enjoy yourself.”

“George, I don’t—”

“Would I ever put you in harm’s way?”

You scoffed. “Well, there was the time you lit my potions homework on fire, and the time you transfigured my chocolate frog into an actual frog. Or the time you and Fred—”

“Besides that!” He huffed, resting his chin on your knees, blinking up at you with round eyes. “Pleeeeaaasssseee, y/n? Come to the Burrow with me.”

You sighed, ignoring the way the Gryffindor common room fireplace made his brown eyes almost golden, freshly brewed espresso with nutty foam. You couldn’t deny George was handsome, most girls at Hogwarts fawned over him or his twin, or both. But George was your friend, as you often repeated to yourself in moments like these, when that mischievous smirk softened to a smile just for you.

“Bloody hell. Fine!” You shoved him off of you to escape his puppy-eyed trap.

“Yes!” He whooped, jumping to his feet. “It’s about time my mum meets my best girl—shit!”

You chucked your Potions books at his head. “Not your girl,” you huffed.

“Says you,” he teased, returning the book to you before flopping back down on the red couch, legs draped across your lap.

“Read the damn pages, Weasley.”

You tried to reimmerse yourself in your studies, but can’t seem to fall back into the reading, losing track of each sentence before it’s finished. George had been pestering you for weeks to spend a portion of the upcoming holiday break with him at the Weasley household, and up until now, you’d successfully resisted. But then he found out your grandparents were going on a trip to Spain for two weeks and became unbearable.

When George set his mind to something, he was stubborn as an ox.

And, despite yourself, you wanted to spend a few more days with him. You loved the Weasley siblings you’d met at school, and heard countless tales of Molly Weasley’s unbelievable Sunday roasts. It couldn’t be that bad, could it?

You were reserved by a nature, a studious and creative Ravenclaw from a muggle household. All things that stood at odds with one, ginger-haired George Weasley. But when a prank in fourth year set for Professor Snape backfired on you, his top student, and ruined your robes, the twins felt so awful they’d taken you to the Three Broomsticks for what George dubbed a “Butterbeer of Forgiveness”.

An unexpected friendship bloomed, and you’d been close with the twin’s ever since, George in particular. You loved Fred, and had countless memories with him, but you and George connected on a deeper level. From the moment you’d met, it was as if you’d always known one another. You could read him almost as well as Fred could, and George could read you better than anyone.

It was unnerving, exhilirating, and by far the most important relationship in your young life. Which is why you squashed any wandering thought about his freckles, his jawline, the way his forearms flexed while he read, or the way his chest heaved after a Quidditch match, his hands spidered with veins after hours of gripping the Beater’s Bat.

And when he called you things like his ‘best girl’, it turned your knees to jelly, your mind inside out. There was no way you’d finish your work now.

“I’m going back to the Tower. I have no idea how you Gryffindor’s get any work done with all this gold.” You stuffed your books into you back and stood, adjusting your robes.

“I’ll walk you,” George said, tossing his book aside. It looked like he hadn’t made any progress either.

“No, no. Finish your work. I’ll meet you in the Great Hall for breakfast, bags packed.”

“It’s a date!” He called as you walk away, and you can practically hear the grin on his face.

“Not a date!” You tossed over your shoulder as you stepped through the portrait.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“My darlings!” Molly cooed, collecting her youngest two children into a massive hug at the train station terminal. You hid behind George, hoping somehow that she’d overlook your presence entirely. But of course, George wasn’t having it.

“Mum, this is y/n!” He grabbed you by the shoulders and thrust you out in front.

“George,” you hissed, but Molly was already upon you.

“Oh, y/n! I’ve heard so much about you! It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you. We were absolutely delighted when George’s letter arrived telling us you’d be accompanying him,” she chirped, fussing with your h/c hair and blue and bronze scarf.

“It’s lovely to meet you too, Mrs. Weasley,” you said, smiling at her and her quieter husband, who was busy chatting with Harry and Ron.

George slung an arm over your shoulder, wafting his cinnamon-y cologne over you. “Shall we?”

You scowled up at him as he dragged you along behind his family, oblivious to your hesitation, or willfully ignoring it.

The crowded car ride home was chaotic, with everyone speaking loudly over one another, George and Fred the loudest of all in either ear, and by the time you arrived, you heart was thrumming loudly in your head, your chest tight with anxiety.

All you could think about was throwing yourself out of the car door and running back to Hogwarts on foot.

Everyone poured out of the car, bounding across the lawn and up to the slightly crooked, red-roofed home, smoke buffeting cheerfully from the many chimneys.

“Y/n?” George said, pausing when he realized you weren’t in step beside him. Something in your expression gave you away, and his smile fell. “Hey, what is it?” he asked, jogging back towards you and placing his hands on your arms.

“I, it’s…” words failed you as emotion pinched your throat.

“Too much?” he asked, giving you a sympathetic smile.

You nodded, shame scorching your cheeks as you looked down at your feet. The tips of his boots were touching yours, so much larger, a worn brown leather juxtaposing your shining black.

“It’s going to be alright, love,” he said, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to warm you up. “It means a lot to me that you’re here, even if it’s a bit overwhelming. But, hey—” he tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at his handsome, wind-bitten face. “They love you already.”

“You told them about me?” You asked, your nerves alchemizing from wasps to butterflies.

“Of course I did.” He chuckled like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “They’re probably sick to death of hearing about you, honestly.”

“Like how I’ve been tutoring you in Potions for two years?” you taunted.

“I’m sure they assumed after I told them your were the brightest witch in our year.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, ginger hair falling across his brow, and your heart gave a new sort of thump. One that made you a bit queasy with it’s intensity.

“I don’t know about brightest,” you argued as he tucked you under his arm once again, leading you toward the open front door.

“I do,” he murmured, ushering you inside and into his mother’s waiting embrace.

“C’mere, sweetheart. Help me with these rolls.” She tugged you down the hall, leaving George to be ambushed by his brothers.

“Who’s the eagle?” You heard what you assumed it be the eldest ask before you were whisked into the hearth-like kitchen.

Twenty minutes later and you were back at George’s side, sandwiched between him and Ginny at the dinner table, while everyone fought for a foothold in the conversation.

George’s thigh was warm against your own, familiar and grounding, and you resisted the urge to lean into him fully for shelter. Dutifully, he started filling both of your plates as dishes went by, allowing you to sit and take it all in. He snagged the bowl of garlic potatoes from Ron and added a giant scoop to your plate, knowing they were your favorite.

“Thank you,” you mumbled to him, and he gave your shoulder a light bump in response.

“So, y/n. George mentioned you’re a Potions whiz?” Arthur asked through a mouthful of roll.

Heat crept up your neck as everyone’s attention swiveled to you. “It’s my favorite subject, yes sir,” you answered sheepishly.

“She passed her Potions O.W.L. in fourth year,” George said proudly, beaming down at you. “She’s onto custom lesson plans with Snivelus now.”

“George!” Molly corrected, but he only laughed.

“That’s impressive,” Percy said, nodding at you from across the table. “Brilliant and beautiful.”

“I, uh, thanks,” you stutter, stuffing a forkful of potatoes into your mouth.

George stiffened, but his smile never wavered. “That she is.”

“So, what do your parents do? Were they in Ravenclaw as well?” Arthur asked.

The blood drained from your face. You had so hoped this wouldn’t come up.

George’s hand fell onto your leg, his long fingers looping around your pinky and twining your hand with his. “She lives with her grandparents. Muggles,” George said, the finality in his tone ensuring there would be no further questions.

Arthur stuttered an apology, and the rest of the table looked away nervously. But Molly smiled proudly at her son, a slightly flush to her round cheeks.

Again, your heart gave that brutal pang, and your hand squeezed his a little more tightly.

The meal continued on, and you blessedly fell into the background while the other’s talked about their work and the school year. Or, you at least thought you fell into the background, but every time you glanced up, you found Percy’s gaze lingering on you, hawkish.

You had met the third eldest brother on many occasions, as he often escorted you from the Gryffindor common room to the Tower when curfew struck. But he’d never looked at you like that. And frankly, it made your skin crawl.

You weren’t naive. You knew you were beautiful, intelligent, witty, all of the things that drew a wandering eye. But Percy was far from someone you’d be interested in. And you were here with George, after all, even if it was for purely platonic reasons.

You shifted a little when Percy’s gaze lingered a fraction too long, and accidentally alerted George to your discomfort. He leaned down towards you, his height ensuring your head barely reached his shoulder.

“Okay, feathers?” He murmured, but caught Percy flinching his gaze away at the same moment. “Percy bothering you?” he whispered, and you shook your head no. An obvious lie by the way you shifted marginally closer to George when Percy’s gaze returned. “I’ll handle it.” George straightened, slipping back into his ongoing conversation with Fred and Charlie, but you felt his hand skim past your leg, brushing against your calf as he reached for his wand.

The contact sent a tremor through your muscles, your nerves stretching towards every point of contact with him until it was all you could think about.

“George, what are you—”

He coughed something that sounded an awful lot like ‘incendio’ into his elbow, wand hand flicking under the table at the same moment. Percy leapt up, the crotch of his trousers igniting with flame.

Everyone but you and the twins scrambled up, Molly quickly tossing the cauldron of water at Percy’s pants.

“Could’ve been a little more subtle,” Fred chastised George with a smirk.

“I wasn’t going for subtlety,” George replied. “I was going for ‘burning his bollocks off’.”

You hide your snicker behind your hand, the last of your anxiety unraveling. George was with you, you were safe.

Once the fire was out, dinner was disbanded with the twins being sentenced to dishes duty, since it had to be one of them that set their brother’s trousers on fire. You were whisked off on a house tour by Ginny, who eagerly showed you the in’s and out’s of the Burrow until you were dragging your feet, eyes heavy with exhaustion. But you had to admit that you were feeling more at ease, the Burrow and it’s residents wrapping around you like a favorite blanket.

You collapsed into bed just after midnight, a flickering glow in your chest, and a red-haired trickster in your thoughts.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Two more days passed at the Weasley residence, filled with games, oversized meals, books, and antics. There was never a dull moment with the twins and Charlie around.

But the best part, by far, was watching George’s mischevious walls come down, and seeing the softer, more relaxed version of him step forth. He was a devoted brother and son, often forgoing his own needs to help his mother reach something in the kitchen, or offer Ron a bit of girl advice. He spent many hours in deep conversation with is father and older brothers, speaking to a wide breadth of subjects you had no idea he had any knowledge about.

George, that bottomless bundle of fizzing energy, seemed even more lively around his favorite people, his heart on full display. And, if you were honest, it was doing funny things to your head and heart.

You found yourself searching for his eyes across the room, smiling at silly things he’d said hours prior, ghosting your fingers over the places he’d brushed against you while passing by. You’d even take a whiff of his coat when he’d come in after a walk with Charlie and tossed it onto the banister.

He seemed older somehow, more mature than you’d ever given him credit for, and it was undoing the years of resolve you’d cultivated to preserve your friendship.

It didn’t help that he constantly referred to you as ‘his girl’, and any number of tooth-aching pet names. Could he really mean it? You always assumed it was part of some joke you were the butt of, but now…

“George and y/n!” Molly called across the dinner table, breaking you from your thoughts. “Dishes, please!”

Your heart skipped a beat. You and George hadn’t had a moment alone since you’d arrived, and you were eager to soak up some undivided attention.

“Yes, ma’am,” George said cheerfully, rising to start collecting the plates. You hopped up to join him, and everyone else filtered out of the kitchen, arguing about what game to play that evening.

You scrapped while he scrubbed, and fell into easy conversation about the past few days.

“My mum really loves you, y’know,” he said, dunking a plate under the soapy water. “Dad too. He was raving about your thoughts on electric kettles yesterday.”

“I like them a lot too,” you replied, turning to hide your blush while tossing a half-eaten roll in the bin.

“Yeah?” he asked, glancing down at you. “I really hope you’re enjoying yourself. I know I sort of forced you to come, and then you were so anxious. And I know the house is loud and drafty, and the meals are a bit chaotic, and fucking Percy can’t keep his damn eyes to himself—”

Not knowing how else to soothe his worries, you stood on your toes and pressed a kiss into his cheek, derailing his rant into stunned silence.

“I’m really glad you brought me, Georgie,” you said, holding his wide-eyed expression for a moment before reaching for another dish.

He caught your wrist in his soapy hand, turning you back towards him. Your heart leapt into your throat at the intensity of his gaze, his jaw feathering with tension as his eyes searched your face. They were so dark, nearly black from his dilated pupils. His dry hand rose slowly, as if afraid you might startle. He dragged the back of his fingers along your cheek before sliding them into the hair at the nape of your neck.

“Tell me if I’ve misread this,” he murmured, tilting your head up towards him, his lips close enough that you could feel his warm breath across your skin. “Tell me to stop.”

Your heart galloped away, your mind turning to goo as the full scope of his longing came into focus. Heat unspooled through you at the way he angled your head to accommodate his towering frame, in complete control, but giving you every opportunity to stop him.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you gave a small shake of your head. No, please don’t stop.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his nose brushing against yours as he drew you closer. You pressed your body to his, desperate for his solidity, his warmth, as you trembled with anticipation. He guided your hand to rest around his neck, and you dug your fingers into his hair.

“George,” you breathed, his name a plea, a desperate prayer.

He closed the last millimeter of distance, caressing your lips with his, a delicate, wishful kiss. More cautious than you’d ever seen him. You tightened your grip on his hair, rising onto your toes to kiss him back a bit harder.

You felt the tension in his body unwind and his hand grasped your waist, his tongue sliding along your lower lip, teasing, promising, and your bones turned to mush, your lower belly fluttering with excitement.

“Ahem,” someone cleared their throat and you sprang away from George, grabbing a plate as if they hadn’t seen what you were doing. Bill leaned against the doorway, a knowing smirk on his face. “Father has requested that y/n joins him for a cuppa before the chess tourney begins. Something about doorbells?”

“Oh! Of course!” You replied, dropping the dish into the sink and drying your hands on the towel over the stove. “Thanks, Bill!” You hurry past the eldest Weasley son, cheeks absolutely flaming.

You could barely hold a conversation with Arthur, to fixated on the way your body hummed in the wake of his son’s touch. You were eager to finish what you’d started, but by the time you and Arthur emerged from his study, George was wrapped up in a game of Wizard’s Chess with Ron.

George’s eyes tracked you as you moved into the room, perching on an armchair by the fireplace. Bill shook his head, elbowing Charlie, who chuckled into his whiskey.

“Y/n, want to play against me?” Fred asked from his spot on the floor, crisscross in front of a chessboard on the coffee table.

“Sure,” you said, happy for the distraction.

“Losers rotate out until the winners from each table play one another,” Fred explained as you sat across from him. “Percy always wins, but he’s sulking in his room.” Fred winked, and you stuck your tongue out at him.

Quickly, you lose yourself in the game, and it doesn’t take long before you have Fred’s Queen cornered, a path to victory clear. In a final move, you take Fred’s Queen and win the game in ten minutes flat.

“Merlin, she kicked your ass!” Ron shouted, and the room bursts into laughter.

You flushed under the praise and start reorganizing the pieces. Despite yourself, your eyes flicked toward George, but found he was already looking at you, a warmth in his dark eyes that made your hands quit working, and you knocked over the piece you just arranged.

“My turn!” Ginny said, shoving Fred out of the way.

“Anyone need anything from the kitchen?” George asked, rising to his feet after swiftly defeating Harry.

A chorus of no’s rang out, but you’re already absorbed into the game, finding that Ginny was much better at chess than Fred. You started to make your third move, finding an opening, when you felt a calloused hand brush along the side of your neck, sliding beneath your hair to rest heavily against your skin.

“Need anything, love?” George whispered in your ear, and the blood rushed from your head, leaving you vaguely dizzy, eyes sparkling when you blinked up at him.

“N-no, I’m fine. Thank you,” you stuttered.

“A tea would be nice, darling brother!” Ginny said, jerking you back to the present, and the move you forgot entirely.

“Coming right up.” George’s hand squeezed your neck lightly before falling away, and he disappeared into the kitchen.

The rest of the night carried on like that, lingering glances and scalding touches, the heat between the two of you bordering on incendiary.

You were taking a small break from kicking Weasley ass when Percy emerged from his room, leveling a challenging glare at George. “I’ll take next round,” he said, fixing Charlie with a look.

“Fine.” George made his final move, knocking over Charlie’s queen. “Have a seat.”

Charlie vacated the spot, muttering something about ‘fucking dorks’, and Percy sat across from his younger brother. The energy shifted in the room, going from jovial and teasing to almost hostile. Weasley’s were competitive by nature, the twins in particular, but the tension heightened considerably beyond that as they sized each other up.

Piece by piece, they started moving around the board, an even match as far as you could tell. But based on the murmurings of the family, Percy was off his game a bit, and you had a feeling it had something to do with the way his eyes kept drifting back towards you.

Interesting, you thought, rising from your place on the couch to circle their table, feigning curiosity in the game. Percy visibly tensed, his eyes darting from you to the board and back again. George, however, relaxed, his typical cocky demeanor easing back into his body language.

Thanks to your distraction, Percy missed an easy move, giving George the first upper hand of the game. You leaned a bit into Percy’s space, and his hands began to tremble. When you walked away, he compensated for his hesitation with a rash move, exposing his Queen.

You knew George noted it but he opted for a subtler move, then leaned back in his chair to watch Percy squirm, a slight smirk on his face. When Percy realized what he’d done, he flushed with irritation, his shoulders squared and tight.

And for my final move…

You leaned down to George, nearly resting your chin on his shoulder. His spiced cologne greeted you, tinged with the cinnamon punch of the firewhiskey he’d been sipping on throughout the games. “I didn’t know you were so good at Wizard’s Chess,” you murmured, close enough that your lips grazed the shell of his ear.

His smirk grew as Percy fidgeted, unable to pick a move, struggling to not stare down your sweater. “I have many talents you’ve yet to experience,” he replied, voice low enough that only you could hear him. A thrill rushed through you, so you bowed out before you took things too far, leaving George to deal the killing blow.

Shortly after, you won your final match against Bill, who you suspected threw the game in your favor, and suddenly it was you sitting across from George, the whole family crowded around the table, watching with bated breath.

“Hello, darling,” George cooed, smiling.

“Weasley,” you clipped, all business.

His eyes flashed at the challenge, and he took a slow sip of whiskey. “Ladies first,” he said, setting the glass down.

You started him off easy, confident that you had this in the bag. George was smart, but most of his skill came from his ability to disarm, not his ability to play chess. You, as it so happened, were skilled at both.

It didn’t take long for George’s cocky smirk to fall, his brow to knit together with focus as you guided him slowly into a trap of your own design.

His brow suddenly quirked up, the corner of his mouth lifting, you knew you’d been caught.

“Clever girl,” he purred, moving his Rook and collapsing the trap you’d spent ten rounds constructing. “Almost had me,” he taunted, leaning back in his chair. His legs reached all the way across to yours in his languid position, his sock feet tapping absently against the legs of your chair.

You only hummed in response, crossing your legs. While searching the board, you stretched your stocking-covered foot towards him, sliding it along the inside of his calf. His muscles tensed for a moment, his eyes widening a fraction, before he settled down, watching you with heavy-lidded eyes.

You made your move, but didn’t stop dragging your foot up and along his knee, skimming his inner thigh. He sat up a little straighter, narrowing his eyes at the board, and you expected him to make his move, when you feel a hand clasp around your ankle, his touch a brand even through your thick stockings. His eyes lifted to yours, and the hunger in them stole your breath.

You’d never seen your sweet, good-natured friend look so menacing.

“I should know better than to play chess with a Ravenclaw,” he said, making a weak play with a pawn. “Starting to feel like I don’t stand a chance.”

His family laughed, reminding you that you were, in fact, completely surrounded by his parents and siblings, and you dropped your foot. That fucking trickster, he knew exactly how to get under your skin.

“I don’t know,” you said, stealing the pawn and trapping his King. “You’re doing better than I expected for a younger twin.”

A chorus off oooh’s met your dig, and George huffed a laugh before freeing his King. “You’ll regret that,” he warned with a devilish smile.

“And you’ll regret that.” George fell right into your trap. You skirted his King, stealing his Queen right out from under him. His jaw dropped, and the family erupted into cheers.

“We have a new champion!” Molly cheered, hauling you up to celebrate.

You grinned, allowing them to parade you around. George smiled up at you, a real, proud smile, and it made your stomach somersault. Then, the grandfather clock chimed midnight, rattling the house on it’s structure.

“Alright, enough excitement! Everyone off to bed!” Molly ordered. George’s eyes locked on you, gauging what you would do next. For the first time, you cursed sharing a room with Ginny, and cursed Fred for being born.

As everyone grabbed their things and scattered off to bed, George managed to catch you at the second stair landing before Ginny’s room, startling you.

“Well played, feathers,” he said, brushing his fingertips over your forearm as he looks up at you.

“You were a formiddable opponent.” You shivered under his touch, the heat from earlier instantly flaring back to life.

He stepped up a stair, bringing himself a head taller than you, close enough that you could smell the fire whiskey on his lips.

Could I taste it too?

“Goodnight, love.” He pressed a quick kiss to your temple before breezing past you and bounding up the next set of steps to his shared room with Fred.

You leaned against the wall to catch your breath, heart pounding in your chest. This was not the turn you expected this trip to take, but you couldn’t pretend that a part of you hadn’t wished for it. That it wasn’t why you tried so hard to avoid the trip all together.

But now that you and George had crossed that line, you couldn’t imagine what you’d been so afraid of. You only wished you’d done it sooner.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The following morning, you’re one of the last to drift down to the kitchen, having spent most of the night tossing and turning, too worked up to sleep properly. You rounded the corner and come to a stop, surprised to find George alone in the kitchen.

“Morning,” he said with a lazy smile.

“Good morning.” You padded towards him, accepting the coffee cup from his outstretched hand. “How’d you sleep?” you asked, blowing gently on the steaming brew.

“Didn’t,” he said, shifting closer to you. His hair was still a little messy from sleep, or lackthereof, his expression soft and voice gravelly.

“Why not?” You asked, taking a tentative sip before setting the mug down on the counter.

“Couldn’t stop thinking...” He dipped his head towards you, his nose brushing your temple.

“About?” The word came out breathless, the coil of want you'd been battling all night tightening with a vengeance.

“What it would feel like to kiss you again,” he murmured, kicking your heart into overdrive.

“And why don’t you?” Your hand creeped along his t-shirt, feeling the muscles along his abdomen sculpted by years of Quiddtich.

“Gotta set up the pitch. We’re playing this afternoon.” His demeanor shifted, all playful and energetic innocence. “See you out there!” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, then hurried outside, leaving you wet and bewildered in the overheated kitchen.

An hour later, you were perched precariously on an old broom, knuckles white from gripping it so hard. Ginny rocketed past you with ease, nearly throwing you off balance.

“I think you need a new nickname,” George teased, steadying you. “Feathers may not be apt.”

You risked removing one hand to show him what a real bird looks like, and he barked a laugh before banking away from you.

Soon, the game was in full swing, with you, Ron, Fred, and Charlie against George, Ginny, Harry, and Bill. You had only ever ridden a broom in first year, so you were massively out of your depth.

You were given the role of Seeker, opposite Harry, and had no hope of accomplishing a damn thing. Harry was like lightning on his Firebolt, and you bobbed around like a lame pigeon.

Thankfully, none of them seemed to be taking the game very seriously. You were content to float around the property, occasionally remembering that you we're supposed to be looking for something small and golden.

After awhile the boys started to get rowdier, pushing and shoving and bludgeoning.. You tried to steer clear, watching George whack the hell out of any bludger that dare cross his airspace. You would not want to be on the other end of one of those.

“Y/n, watch out!” Ginny cried.

You looked back from where you were staring off into space, just in time to see George barreling towards you, a bludger about five feet in front of him.

You tried to move, to steer the broom literally anywhere, but it wouldn't cooperate. At the last second you managed to pull up, but not far enough. The bludger hit you square in the stomach, knocking the wind from your lungs and nearly forcing up your breakfast with the power of it. Stars danced behind your eyes, your grip began to slip from the handle as darkness raced towards you.

Something else slammed into you, wrapping itself around you—

“Y/n? Baby, are you alright?” George. You could tell you were moving, but couldn't seem to make your eyes focus, keep your body from trembling. Your cheeks were wet, the breeze frigid against your damp skin. Am I crying?

Then you were on the ground, blessed ground, and then you were up again, cradled against George's chest.

He was shouting at someone you couldn't see. “I swear on fucking Dumbledore, I'm going to beat you bloody with that fucking bat—”

“George!”

“Get her some ice,” he barked at someone else. “I'm right here, love, you're okay. Just try and breathe.”

You clung to his dampening shirt, the shock and pain keeping you teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. You could hear other people talking, but your whole world narrowed to two points: George's heartbeat and the blinding pain radiating from your stomach.

“It hurts,” you whimpered, barely recognizing the pitiful sound of your own voice.

“I know, love. I know. I’ve got you, I promise.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, soft and trembling. A moment later, he laid you on the couch, careful not to jostle you more than necessary.

Molly passed something into George's hands. “For the pain,” she whispered.

George crouched down next to you, holding the edge of the cup to your lips. “Take a sip, sweetheart.” You shook your head, your Potions safety training overpowering your reason. “Please, y/n. Let me take the pain away.”

You took a small sip, the tea pungent and floral, but immediately the edges of the pain began to soften. But the relief was short-lived. Exhaustion followed close behind it, dragging you down into a dreamless sleep.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

When you come to, the Weasley house was dark around you. The only light came from the moon spilling through window panes and the smoldering fire across from the couch.

A light snore drew your attention, and you looked up to see George above you, his head lolled onto the back of the couch, sleeping soundly. Your head was resting in his lap, his sweater piled under your head as pillow, and his large hand was stretched across your stomach, fingers splayed from your ribs to your hip bones.

God, your stomach. You moved to sit up, memories of earlier filtering through the fading grogginess of the Potion Molly gave you, but surprisingly, your stomach was only a little sore. More like an overexerted muscle than rearranged organs and cracked ribs.

George stirred, lifting his head to peer at your through half-closed lids.

“What are you doing down here?” you asked, sweeping a strand of red hair from his brow.

He came fully awake then, straightening. “How do you feel?” He asked, caressing your cheek, then running his hands over your arms, your ribs, the swell of your hips.

“The Potion did its job, I feel mostly fine,” you said, catching his hands to stop their exploration, and the buzzy desire they coaxed to life.

“Are you sure?” His features softened with relief, his fingers twining with yours.

“I'm sure. Thank you for saving me.” You leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, ignoring the slight protest in your abdomen muscles.

“Always,” George said, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “I'm sorry I wasn't close enough to stop it from hitting you in the first place. It happened so fast—”

“Love, it wasn't your fault,” you shushed, reaching out to cup his face and stroking your thumb along his cheekbone.

“I just…” he trailed off, leaning into your palm. “I always want to be there to protect you. Or for whatever you else you might need. Do you need anything now? Water, tea? Are you hungry? You missed dinner—”

“George,” you cut him off. “Right now, I need you.”

Desire eclipsed the worry on his face, his eyes shading. “Are you sure you're not in pain? No fogginess or headaches—”

You leaned in and kissed him, a light, floaty peck, silencing his incessant questioning. You appreciated his concern, but there were other parts of you that needed his attention far more. He immediately took charge of the kiss, shifting his weight to lay you back onto the couch. His body rested heavily between your thighs, his mouth devouring yours in fervent, searing kisses.

His tongue lapped at your bottom lip and you opened for him, allowing him to take everything he sought. He kissed you like he didn't know if he'd get another chance, like he'd been waiting his entire life for this moment. It stole your breath, made your toes curl and your pussy pulse with excitement, slick already collecting between your thighs.

You nipped at his lower lip, earning a soft grunt in appreciation. His hips canted forward a fraction, though it seemed he was holding himself back. His lips traveled along your jaw, down the valley of your throat with teasing licks and love bites and you arched into him, a moan spilling from your lips before you could stop it.

“Shh, baby. You have to be quiet f’me.” George nudged your shirt up with his fingers, kissing along the purplish bruises marring your stomach. “My poor girl.” His thumbs traced the curves of your stomach softly, almost reverent as he gazed up at you. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. so perfect. I’ve wanted to touch you for so long, to feel you beneath me, fuck, hear the pretty little sounds you make for me.” He was rambling now, lost in the act of worshiping your body, his hands and lips traveling gently over your skin.

“How long?” you asked, breathless, raking your fingers through his hair while he nursed a mark just under your right tit.

He looked up at you through is lashes, his lips leaving your skin with a pop. “Since that night at the Three Broomsticks,” he said, shifting upwards so he could look you in the eye.

“The ‘Butterbeer of Forgiveness’?” You mouth fell open, shock rocking through you.

He snickered. “Of course, why do you think I kept sending Fred to the bar?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You ran your fingers over his jaw, feeling the rough stubble against your skin.

“I—” his voice caught, his gaze averting from you. “I loved you too much to risk losing you.”

Elation soared through you, and you couldn’t stop the smile that split your face. “George,” you said, bumping your nose against his. His eyes flicked back to you, watery and rimmed with red. “I love you too.”

His smile was like the first sun after an endless winter, and he kissed you like the first torrential rain of spring. The heat of summer came quickly though, and soon you were gasping for him again, your hips pressing against the hard ridge in his pants.

“Need you,” you whined into his mouth.

“I’m here, love.” He kissed down your throat again, pausing for only a moment to nip at your taught nipples through your shirt before continuing his downward decent. “Lift up for me.” You lifted your hips, allowing him to tug down your jeans, exposing your sodden red panties to his greedy eyes. “Gryffindor red, huh?” he teased, and you threw your arms over your face to hide your blush. “All for me?”

You nodded, your heart in your throat.

“It’s a shame I’ll have to ruin them.’

“What—” Riiiip! The cold air lapped against your slick pussy, chased by the heat of George’s tongue as he dragged it through your folds. “Oh, fuck—”

“Shhh,” he warned, before flicking his tongue against your swollen clit.

You bit down on the back of your wrist to keep from crying out when he switched from licking to sucking, the walls of your cunt fluttering around nothing. He moved down, flattening his tongue against your entrance and collecting the wetness that pooled there. He gave a light hum of pleasure that had your eyes crossing, his tongue delving deeper in search of another taste.

“So fucking good,” he mumbled against you, the vibrations of his low voice making your sensitive clit tingle. You tugged on his hair, encouraging him to pay attention to where you needed him most. “I know, I know.” He pressed a kiss to your clit, teasing you for just a moment longer before wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking hard.

You very nearly cried out, having to clap a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. Pleasure shot through you, singeing your nerves and liquifying your muscles. So quickly you were unraveling for him, going stupid under his ministrations.

A long digit prodded at your entrance, collecting some wetness before easing inside of you. Your cunt welcomed him gladly, clamping down around his finger.

“Merlin, baby. You're so tight,” he panted, shifting to watch you take another one of his fingers, slick already running into his palm. “Relax, love. Shh, “ he soothed, curling his fingers to pet the inside of your walls, making your mind go blank as bliss washed through you. “That's it, darling. Just like that.”

The knot in your stomach began to wind tighter, burning through you as you fought to relax, to be good for him. But your orgasm was so fucking close, just a little more—

His lips found your clit again, sucking in time with your racing heart as his fingers coaxed you open, and the knot severed. Your peak slammed into you, stealing your breath so you couldn't even cry out to warn him, to sing his praises the way he deserved. Your muscles locked, your cunt bearing down as him as pleasure tore through you until you could do nothing but shiver beneath him.

“Shit, y/n. That was fucking beautiful,” he cooed, easing his fingers out of you and lapping up the release coating him to the wrist. “You alright?” He shifted upwards, kissing your bruised abdomen before pecking your lips, your eyes still glassy and unfocused.

“I've never come that hard,” you pant, throwing your arms around his neck and raining kisses over his slick-soaked face. “What the fuck.”

He chuckled, flushing under your attention. “Happy to oblige.”

You caught the last word in your mouth, kissing him deeply, desperately. Your body was already keying itself up again, and by the twitching length against your hip, he was desperate for you too.

He hooked an arm under your back and hauled you up to straddle his lap, his back pressed against the couch. “This okay?” He asked, sliding his rough hands under your shirt to skate along your skin.

You nodded, rolling your hips to drag your bare pussy along the bulge in his jeans, a skitter of pleasure making your breath hitch.

“Fuck, y/n,” he hissed, hips bucking up against you.

“Yes, please fuck me.” You kissed along his jaw and nibbled at his ear lobe, reaching between your bodies to find his zipper.

He did the same, helping you undo the button and tug down the zipper, his cock springing free from his boxers. The head nudged against your clit, hard and heated, and you whimpered.

With an arm wrapped around your waist, he lifted you slightly, guiding the head to your dripping entrance. Slowly, he eased you down into him, your pussy more than ready to accommodate his length. A rough groan resounded from his chest, and you silenced it with another kiss. His cock stretched you open, hitting that spongy, sinful spot before sliding deeper until he bottomed out, the head nudging your cervix.

“So fucking tight, baby. Bloody hell,” he whispered, voice strained.

“Feels so fucking good,” you whine, grinding your hips against his.

George buried his face into your neck, stifling a moan. His grip loosened, allowing you to start lifting and lowering yourself, riding him slowly, savoring every inch of his cock as it dragged through you.

“M’not gonna last long if you keep doing that,” he warned, mouthing at your neck with sloppy kisses.

You smirked, bracing your hands against the back of the couch to pick up the pace, your thighs and abs burning from the exertion. But he felt so fucking good, stretching you open, the root of his cock dragging along your clit.

His lifted up again only to snap his hips against yours, his hands a vice on your waist as he started pounding into you from below.

“Oh, fuck, Georgie—”

“Quiet, love. You don't want the whole house to hear how good I make you feel, do you?”

You nodded, a whine escaping through your teeth. One of his hands came up to cover your mouth, silencing the sound and infringing on your air supply, callouses rubbing against your kiss-swollen skin.

“I’d love nothing more than for Percy to hear you screaming for me, but this is just for us,” he whispered, breathless as he fucked into you. “Gonna come for me again?”

Your fingers dug into the couch, another peak racing towards you. You bounced with his movements, desperately chasing your high, the ache in your abdomen long forgotten.

“That's it, love. Fuck, m’gonna come.” He threw his head back, a strangled groan accompanying the kick of his cock inside you, stretching your further before pumping you full of his release.

The hot surge of his orgasm sent you flying over the edge, ecstasy pulling your under while your cunt milked him dry with vicious pulls. You muffled your cry into his shoulder as he fucked you through it, until you both collapsed onto the couch, thoroughly spent and panting.

His lips found your forehead, your temple, his hands gliding along your spine, over your hips, soothing you as you trembled against him.

“I love you,” he breathed into your hair. “I can't believe you're here with me.”

You grazed the racing pulse under his jaw with your nose. “I love you, too.” It was exhilarating to say, almost as thrilling as the orgasm you just shared, a massive weight was lifted off your shoulders.

“So, can I call you my girl without being corrected now?” He teased, tickling your ribs.

“I suppose.” You giggled, pecking the corner of his smirk.

The following morning, you descended from your room to find George at the bottom of the stairs, shirtless, twirling his Beater Bat in his right hand. The same hand that brought you the most earth shattering orgasm of your life.

“What on earth are you doing?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his middle and kissing his cheek, admiring the violet mark you left above his clavicle.

“Waiting for Ron,” Fred supplied from the kitchen.

“Who’s waiting for me—oh fuck.” Ron stopped dead at the top of the stairs, still dressed in his pajamas, staring wide eyed at George, or more specifically, the bat in his hand.

“I just want to talk,” George said, gently moving you aside before prowling up the stairs towards his younger brother.

Ron took off up the stairs, their steps thundering through the house as George gave chase.

“George! Shit,” you huffed, glancing at the rest of the family who'd come to see what the fuss was about.

“I'll let ‘im get a good whack in,” Molly said, smiling at you. “Since you're his girl and all.”

Your cheeks flamed, but they only met you with warm hugs and laughter, like they'd been expecting this from the beginning.

Crack!

“Ow!”

"That's for hurting my girl, you git."

Fin. 🐦‍⬛

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Thank you so much for reading!

If you enjoyed, you can check out my published work here.

Much love,

Allie

[moontopuff]

YOU'VE CHOSEN: GEORGE WEASLEY

WHEN HE REALIZED HE LIKES YOU

I think he realized it on a normal evening, you were sitting in Gryffindor common room with twins; you on the couch, Fred on the armchair of course, and George sitting on a carpet in front of you. They were talking about their new invention; Fred mostly talked about the outcome of said thing and how testing was going, meanwhile, George was talking about how he came up with the idea. It wasn't much known in the Hogwart, but George was better at potions; better at making them and changing proportions to make something new.

you, of course, knew that, but you couldn't help but see that sometimes George was a little bit shy about his knowledge, as if it would make him a not good enough Weasley twin or something. Honestly, you couldn't know.

but, u didn't want him to feel any less because of this, so, you were listening intently to the origin story of making up this new thing, and when he ended you complimented him:

“Honestly, it’s all in the potion proportions!” George declared, his eyes lighting up as he spoke. You leaned closer, captivated, sensing the flicker of uncertainty in his voice. He always seemed to second-guess his brilliance, as if it might be too much for the room. “That’s so cool, George! You really know your stuff,” you said, breaking in as Fred rambled on about the grand plans for their next prank. “What if you added more of the—what was it—Gillyweed? Would it be more dangerous, or would it just go kaboom?” George blinked, taken aback by your enthusiasm, a shy smile creeping onto his face. His cheeks flushed a soft pink, and he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly not expecting your genuine interest. “Maybe both!” he replied, a hint of excitement in his voice. It was a quick reaction, and to mask the sudden warmth in his cheeks, he slid back into his usual, mischievous teasing self. “Ohh, should I expect you to get a crush on me now, for my incredible potion skills?” You rolled your eyes, laughter bubbling up. “Shut up, George!” you shot back, a playful smile on your lips. With a grin, you turned to Fred. “Now we know who the smarter twin is~” George’s laughter mingled with yours, as Fred pouted. As 'smarter' twin met your gaze and saw your smile, something shifted in him—a spark of something deeper, something new, and he wasn't just sure if he liked it or not

CRUSHING ON YOU:

he gives you sweet but joking-sounding compliments, wanting to make you smile/blush but not being obvious with it

started seeking your presence in every room; the great hall, classes, outside, or quidditch playground. He just wanted to see you, hoped to see you, and was over the moon when he actually saw you

after that one time you complimented his potion skills; every time twins show you their new invention he unconsciously seeks your compliment. He may not know this himself, but you realized it, after one time you didn't say anything about his role in the thing, and he looked like a pouting, sad puppy...

him actually beaming after you compliment him

sometimes, his eyes subconsciously drop to your lips when talking to you

George would start helping you carry your books to classes. He would reason it, that he's doing it for something else you did (u never have idea what he's talking about), but he just doesn't want to admit it yet.

his heartbeat faster every time you suddenly touch him or show him any affection. Of course, he hides it with his usual playful expression, but he leans in your touch, and just hopes you're obvious to that

when it's crowded in the hall, he likes to put his hand on the small of your back to make sure you don’t get separated. First time he did it, you were flustered as crazy, and he didn't even realize what he did until you were already in the class! When he realized, he just joked that it's because you're getting lost too easily, but do you really believe in that...?

Him getting flustered yet excited to see you cheering over him (and Fred) during Quidditch matches. When it's a hot moment you even call his twins names, and it helps his determination (he has to win for you)

teacher catching him gazing lovingly at you. Sometimes they just let it slide because *young love*, but sometimes they ask him what he's doing and he comes up with an excuse or just shrugs

He’d find himself staring at you even in the Great Hall, as everyone is eating, and isn't it quite something for one of the Gryffindors to stare lovingly at Hufflepuff table?

unconsciously starts talking and thinking more about you when you aren't around. Like, the classes you don't share together, and something happens and he's like "Y/N would scrunch her nose and giggle at that, I can just see it" or while you eat at your house table, and George casually starts talking about you to Fred and Jordan "Isn't she clumsy, lately? Nearly fall on her face while going today to the library!" not realizing his obvious puppy eyes.

George, being the more emotional twin, enjoys just being his calm, sometimes worried or serious self with you. He's happy that you don't only like him (and Fred) for being funny guys, but also like him when he's too tired or too worried of being a fun guy. He likes having emotional and serious conversations with you.

CONFESSING TO YOU

He didn't want to confess to you for the longest time, not because he's shy, but because he's insecure. He loves Fred more than anything, but he can't help but sometimes feel that people prefer him. And so, he was bloody terrified, that you would be just another person who would prefer his twin. And he couldn't hear you say it, because it would break him, he knew that.

so it wasn't until Fred finally decided to speak with him about matter. Encourage him, tell him that Geroge is your favourite twin and it's obvious to everyone. And after a few days of that, he finally confessed to you.

people would assume that being Weasley twin, George would be confident and confess with a boom, but no. At said time he felt like nervous wreck, feeling his palms sweating, and his tongue-tied as if hexed. Nonetheless, one evening, as you two were strolling through the school grounds, he finally confessed with a nervous smile.

And you? Well... You couldn't be happier.

YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH HIM

simp, soft bf, pouting when you're annoyed at him

loves you to the moon and back

compliments you everyday, from general to very specific things

"You're the most beautiful person in the Great Hall.""That mole you have on [place] suits you well. I love it. Can I kiss it?"

after you two started dating, he started doing unconscious things, like fixing your clothes after hugging you or having out session, and also fixing your hair when the wind makes it all in your face. It's like breathing for him

Forehead kisses. holding hands always. back hugs at random times.

You were already comfortable with him as friend, but now, as you are with him, you feel that you can turn off your brain, and be hundred percent sure that he will make sure you will not get hurt.

he’ll never ever cross your boundaries (unless you want him too?)

he’s in touch with his emotions, so you’ve probably seen him cry and be furious a few times.

somehow you made a habit of napping on each other's shoulders. Sometimes even on each other's thighs...

he always lean into your touch, even when he's with his brother or friends. he would never be embarrassed of loving you

normally isn't easy to be flustered, but when it comes to you... well, let me tell you, that you have your ways of making his cheeks pink

as your bf he will sometimes do silly, gentleman things like; holding an open door for you, trying to stall stairs for you so u can make it on time, or leave some cute paper charms on your table.

will treat you like royalty you are

when you're too tired to get back to your own common room, he would give you a piggy back ride

pretty sure, he would give you massages when you're tired (in exchange for a kiss ;))

he wants to know even more about you

wanting to - somehow - be part of your hobby. For example; if u like reading, he would ask you to read out loud for him, or ask to borrow your fav book, so you would have a new share topic to talk about. And if you like make-up, he will gladly let you use himself as your model (and will be pretty serious if you ask him which look you did, he prefers!). And if you like sports/quidditch, he will train with you or be your biggest cheerleader. He just wants to support you.

so he may, or may not, make this invention especially for you (not for the prank, but to brighten your day and make you smile)

tickle fights

you wearing his jumpers, obv

holds your hand when anxious

now that you're together, he doesn't only stare lovingly at you at classes, but also holds your hand under the desk

cheering for him in every Quidditch game and even wearing his shirt to show your support (unless it's against Hufflepuff... then you're supporting both teams)

him showing off on his broom, making sure you're looking at him

him flying straight to you, after the end of the game (includes sweaty kisses)

your outside make-out sessions are often interrupted by curious animals coming closer to you (he's used to it, he knows that animals just like you, but can't they be curious when he doesn't have his tongue in your mouth??)

you stealing some food from Kitchens and bring it to your bf, when you know he's working on their new intention (he often forgets about eating)

him being surprised seeing you as if it was the first time, but tiredly grinning at you, giving you a quick kiss, and a strong hug, to keep himself going through the night

him grinning at you lovingly, as he's observing you naming the plant he gave you

if u have an allergy to something or just don't like specific food, he makes sure Molly knows it before he invites you to burrow. He may be a tricker but he knows when to hold himself, because he never wants to seriously hurt you or upset you

as his partner, you're making it to the stadium of Molly's favourite in-laws, placing you next to Harry & Hermione

overall, he loves you like crazy, you understand each other and support each other, love full of cuddles and emotional support

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

If you would like to read again how you met twins and how friendship with them looked like: [Click]

If you decided to change the twin: [Fred Weasley route]

[nextdoor-neighbors]

idk if anyone's still around but... i'm back and in the mood to write again :)

if you have any requests, shoot me an ask!

[allthesmutl0vers]

Managing Mischief: Weasley Twins x F! Reader (Part Six)

MDNI, 18+

TW: Sexual References, Bullying, Sexual Teasing, Nicknames like 'little one'/'baby'/'darling'

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Chapter Six

Y/n

My alarm goes off at six in the morning with a loud beeping. I groan as I get up out of Ginny’s bed. “Turn that bloody thing off,” Ginny groans just as I turn it off. “What kind of crazy person wakes up at six in the morning?” She asks in an irritated tone. 

I chuckle and yawn, stretching my arms over my head. “Come on, we want to be the first ones to shower,” I tell them, pulling the blanket down off of her and Hermione. 

“Ugh, fine!” Ginny huffs as she stands up and stretches.

I lightly shake Hermione awake, and she rolls over to face me. “I’m up, I’m up,” she tells me tiredly before sitting up. 

I grab my clothes for my shower and walk out of Ginny’s room, heading for the bathroom. The door is shut, and the light is on when I reach it, so I lean against the wall, waiting for whoever is in there to be done. Hopefully, it’s not Ron who takes forever. Finally, the door handle clicks, and whoever is in there opens the door. And holy fuck, if I wasn’t awake before, I am now. 

George looks at me, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His hair is still damp against his forehead as he looks down at me with a smirk. The towel he’s wearing hangs low on his waist, giving me a perfect view of his v-line and his toned and muscular body. Bloody Hell, being a beater pays off. 

“See something you like, baby?” George chuckles with a smirk. He steps closer to me, leaning over me with his hand on the wall above my head. I can only nod, my heart racing as my wetness begins to pool in my panties as I admire his body. He chuckles deeply and tilts my face up to look him in the eyes by grabbing my chin. “Words, baby. Use your words.”

“Y-yes,” I answer softly, my breathing heavy as he leans in closer, brushing his lips against mine. 

“That’s my good girl,” he says softly, leaning back slightly and looking down at me. Fuck I could melt. “Now, go take a shower before we end up bending you over the banister and fucking you right here in the hallway,” he teases, tilting his head to the side and looking over his shoulder. 

I follow his gaze over to Fred, who is leaning on their doorframe with a smirk as he bites his lower lip. “Better listen to him, little one.” Merlin, yes. I want that so bad right now. 

I nod slightly as George takes a step back. “Okay,” my voice comes out almost in a whisper. As I go to pass by, George grabs my arm, turning me to face him again. He holds me to his chest and presses a kiss to my lips with a sultry hum. 

I can feel his large bulge pressing into my lower abdomen, only fueling my need for them. When he pulls back, he looks me in the eyes and runs his tongue against his bottom lip. “Go,” he tells me with a swift smack on my ass.

I gasp as he and Fred laugh softly. I feel myself blush as I walk into the bathroom and close the door behind me. I take a moment to collect myself and then smirk if they want to tease me, then game on. 

After my shower, I get dressed in a matching pink lace thong and bra. I put on my Gryffindor skirt that was a bit too short, I meant to buy a new one, but I never got around to it. Oh well, it will work perfectly for this little game the twins and I have going right now. If they could tease me like that, I chuckle softly to myself. I’m going to have them begging. I button up my white school skirt and tie my house tie before slipping on my knee-high black socks and brushing my hair. 

I look into the mirror and smile. I look hot. All the chores I’ve been doing have toned me up, and skipping lunch has kept me slim. I open the door and catch a glimpse of Fred and George watching me as I walk out of the bathroom. Their jaws? On the fucking floor. I pretend not to notice until I reach Ginny’s door again and look back at them, giving them a wink as I walk through the door and close it behind me. That’s right, boys, game on. 

“Bloody Hell,” Ginny says when I walk into her room with a gasp. 

“Are you sure you can wear that skirt? It’s a bit short,” Hermione says nervously. 

I shrug my shoulders. “It’s only an inch or two shorter than normal. I meant to buy a new one, but I forgot. Plus, it’ll help me win the game I have going with Fred and George,” I wink at Hermione. 

Ginny laughs and tilts her head back. “Oo, you’re going to win for sure. If I swung that way, I’d fuck you,” Ginny says with a wink. I giggle and blow her a kiss. 

“You do look hot, but I would button up the next two buttons. Otherwise, Molly might lose her mind at breakfast,” Hermione suggests. 

“Not to mention, your dad would probably have a heart attack,” Ginny laughs as I magically dry my long hair and straighten it. 

“You guys are right,” I shrug and button up my top twice, covering my cleavage. “Don’t want to win too early,” I wink. 

We all finish getting ready after they shower, doing our make up and hair, and getting dressed. By the time we’re done, it’s a little after eight, the time Molly wanted us to be ready. But we wanted to look good, sue us. We put on our black loafers and grab our bags, our trunks already by the fireplace when Molly calls up for us. “Girls! Come on! Time for breakfast!” Molly yells from downstairs. 

“Coming!” We all yell back in response as we head out of Ginny’s room and walk downstairs. We giggle softly, whispering about what kind of reactions the boys will have to seeing us. Ginny and Hermione both rolled up their skirts to match mine, wanting to play the same game with Ron and Harry. 

We stroll into the kitchen, and the boys’ reactions are priceless. Ron turns bright red and immediately stops eating when Hermione sits down next to him. And Harry shifts in his seat, no doubt adjusting himself by the looks of the wink Ginny gives me. Both Fred and George place their hands on my knees under the table, and Fred leans into my ear. “You look fucking hot,” he says softly. 

I smirk and look up at him, leaning in close, our noses almost touching. “I know,” I tease him softly, making him groan just loud enough for me to hear. 

George squeezes my thigh under the table, drawing my attention. “Problem, Georgie?” I ask innocently. 

George bites his lip and leans in close. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to us?” He asks softly. I follow his gaze down to the slight bulge in his pants and back up to his eyes again. 

I answer him as innocently as I can. “I’m just seeing how long you two can last before making good on your little threat to bend me over and fuck me,” I smile, then turn and say the same thing to Fred, squeezing his thigh for good measure. Fred chokes on his coffee, coughing. 

“You alright, son?” Arthur asks him curiously. 

“Yeah, is everything okay, Freddie?” I ask innocently as I put a few blueberries in my oatmeal. 

“Yup,” Fred says, clearing his throat. “Just went down the wrong pipe, is all,” he says calmly, giving me a warning glare. “You’ll pay for this later,” he warns me quietly, looking to my other side at George, who nods in agreement. 

“I look forward to it,” I wink with a smile as I sip my coffee. The twins’ grip on my thighs tightens, making me clench my thighs together as the family owl swoops in with the newest edition of The Daily Prophet, the newspaper for the wizarding world. Arthur takes the newspaper and sits back down, looking over it. “Oh boy,” he says quietly. 

“What’s up, Dad?” Fred asks as he takes a bite of his breakfast. 

Arthur sighs as he skims the paper. “Well, it would appear the Lucus is in Azkaban,” he says with a shake of his head. “Sentenced to six months, and I’m sorry to say that Draco will also be returning to school.” Now it’s my turn to choke. George pats my back until I catch my breath, and Arthur reads the article aloud to all of us. 

“At the end of the day yesterday, the Malfoy family was seen entering the Wizengamot courtroom, the high court of our world, along with their close friends, the Parkinson family, and their daughter Pansy. According to an anonymous source within the court, Lucius Malfoy had used a powerful Confundus charm on an official of the wizarding testing department in order to allow his son, Draco Malfoy, to graduate early from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry over the summer,” we all gasp as Arthur continues to read.

“Having pleaded guilty to the crime, he will pay a hefty fine and serve a sentence no longer than six months in the notorious Azkaban prison. As headmaster of the school, Albus Dumbledore has agreed to allow young Draco Malfoy to attend school this year. Under the condition that he serve community service, the number of hours undisclosed. 

The Parkinson family offered kind words and praise for Draco’s character and morals. Their daughter, Pansy, a schoolmate of Draco’s, is quoted saying that he is ‘a man od outstanding moral fiber, and of course had no idea of the confundus charm.’ Lucius, taking the blame for all of the crime, adamantly declines Draco having any knowledge of the crime that took place, thus freeing Draco from any legal responsibility. For more information on the Parkinson family’s kind words and court quotations, see page ten.” 

“Outstanding moral fiber, my ass,” George huffs, shaking his head. 

“George, language!” Molly chastises him. 

“He’s not wrong, Mum. I mean, look what he did to y/n. Does that seem like somebody with a moral character?” Ginny asks in an irritated tone. 

“Are you alright?” Arthur asks in my silence. 

I sigh and nod. “Honestly, he got what he deserved. Do I think he didn’t know about what his dad did? Not in the slightest. But I just plan to avoid him like the plague. He’s dead to me,” I answer Arthur bluntly. 

“We’ll keep him away from you too. If he tries anything, we’ll kick his ass,” Fred says, gripping my thigh and turning to Molly when she opens her mouth to protest. “Only kidding, Mum. The last thing we need is to get expelled and have to do the whole year over again,” Fred tells her, more so to make her feel better. I know they’d do it in a heartbeat, even if it meant opening their joke shop a year later. 

Molly nods. “Exactly. Now, everyone finish up. It’s time to get going to the platform soon,” she reminds us all. 

After breakfast, Arthur heads out to pick up my Dad from St. Mungo’s to bring him to the platform. “See you all there!” Arthur calls out as he leaves. 

We all grab our trunks and meet by the fireplace to take the floo network to the platform while Molly fishes up the dishes in the kitchen. “You sure you’re alright, baby?” George asks me. 

I nod and smile at him and Fred. “Absolutely. You two are my life, not that git. Now, do you two want to sulk? Or do you want to show off your hot girlfriend on the platform? Because I, for one, think we should rub his filthy SLytherin nose in it,” I say with a wink. 

They smirk at each other and turn back to me, answering me in sync. “Definitely show you off.” 

“That’s what I thought,” I smile. 

Fred moves to stand behind me, pressing his chest into my back and leaning down to kiss my neck and speak softly in my ear. “Mm, fuck. We’re going to have to walk with you everywhere. Especially on the stairs,” he jokes as his hands move down to the sides of my thighs. 

George tilts my chin up to look at him as he stands in front of me. “Can’t have anyone staring at what’s ours, can we?” He teases and kisses me softly. 

“You two got a problem with going everywhere with me?” I taunt with a smirk. 

“No, ma’am,” they both answer together, making me giggle. I love it when they do that, and they know it. 

“Good boys,” I tease as Fred stands at my side as Molly enters the living room. 

We use the floo network one by one after Molly puts a charm on our trunks to make them light enough to carry. I go through second to last before Molly, stepping through the fire and onto the platform. I smile as I lay my eyes on the bright, red Hogwarts Express, a little sad that this will be my last year boarding it. 

I look around for our group and find my dad standing with the rest of our group. And smile as I walk up and hug him. “Hi, Daddy. You look great,” I say sweetly as he hugs me back. 

“Hey, Honeybee. Thank you. You look great, too. All ready for your last first day?” He asks with a sad smile. 

I nod and smile. “Absolutely,” I answer him. 

“Alright, alright, pictures, everyone!” Molly claps, getting all of our attention. 

Ron groans and rolls his eyes. “Mum, do we have to?” Ron asks, annoyed. 

Molly throws him a warning look and nods. “Yes, Ronald. This is the last year you will be at school with your brothers and y/n.”

The first picture was of all of us together in front of the train, which Molly had another parent take. Then it was just their family, all of the kids without the parents, my alone for my Mum and Dad to frame, then finally, me and my Dad together. 

My dad holds me close to his side as Molly tries to get a picture when I see a pair of silver eyes and platinum blonde hair a few feet away, and my smile drops. 

Fred and George look at me curiously. “Smile, dear,” Molly tells me, but I can’t take my eyes off Draco, who is staring me down. 

“You alright, honeybee?” My dad asks me. 

Everyone follows my eyeline until they see Draco staring at me, too. Standing next to his Mum with Pansy obliviously hanging on his arm. Fred and George move to walk towards him when I find my voice again. “Don’t!” I tell them, stopping them in their tracks to look at me. I watch Draco’s eyes as they squint, looking between Fred, George, and me. “He’s not worth it,” I say to Fred and George, loud enough for Draco to hear as I stare him down. For just a moment before I look away, I swear I could see tears forming in his cold eyes. 

I shake it off and calm my dad down enough for us to take our picture before we return to our group. “He’s brave to show his face here,” my dad scowls. 

“You can say that again,” Fred says, moving to stand next to me. 

“Sorry I’m late, everyone,” Sirius, Harry’s godfather, says as he joins our group. He was cleared of all charges a few years ago when they finally caught Peter Pettigrew, and Harry has lived with him ever since. “Did I miss something?” He asks curiously at everyone’s annoyed expressions. 

“Just the Malfoy’s,” Arthur answers with a shake of his head. 

Sirius nods. “Ah, I see. Yes, I saw the paper this morning. Bloody shame. Awful place his father was sentenced to,” he shakes his head. Sirius never really talks about Azkaban, not without plenty of drinks. Understandable, given what he went through there, even being innocent. He turns to me and smiles. “Y/n! How lovely to see you again,” he says to me with a smile, hugging me. 

“It’s good to see you too, Sirius,” I smile as we pull apart. “This is my Dad, Phil,” I say, introducing my dad. “Dad, this is Sirius Black, Harry’s Godfather.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” my dad says kindly as he shakes his hand. 

“You as well,” Sirius says as Molly claps. 

“Alright, children. Time to say your goodbyes,” she says as the warning whistle blows on the train. 

I hug Molly, Arthur, Sirius, and finally my dad. “I love you. Keep me updated on Mum, and write me if anything changes.” 

“I will. I love you too, Honeybee. Don’t let that boy drag you down. Have a great time,” my dad tells me as we pull apart, and he looks at Fred and George. “Take care of my girl. And keep her away from that boy,” he tells them.

“We’ll guard her with our lives,” George promises with a smile as I move to stand between them. 

“I should hope so,” my dad chuckles. “You’re good men. I’m trusting you.” 

We all wave goodbye to our parents as we board the train. One on board, we look for an empty compartment, finally finding one, and pile inside. I sit between Fred and George on one side of the table, and Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione take their seats on the other side. “It’s great that Sirius can come to the platform now and see you off, Harry,” I tell him kindly with a smile. 

Harry smiles wide and nods. “Yeah. I’m just happy he was finally proven innocent.”

“What did he whisper to you?” Ginny asks Harry curiously. 

Harry shrugs and puts an arm around her. “Just that he’d see me later. Not sure why he had to whisper it, though,” Harry says, confused. 

After about an hour, the door opens and Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson smile. “Hey, Fred. Hey, George,” they say together. I roll my eyes. They’re two chasers on the Gryffindor quidditch team who have had crushes on Fred and George forever.

“Oh, hey guys,” George says kindly. 

“What’s up? Are you guys ready for quidditch this year?” Fred asks with a smile. 

“Most definitely,” Angelina answers him, twirling her hair and practically eye-fucking Fred. “Been practicing all summer.” I look across to our other friends, and we all roll our eyes at their obvious flirting.  

“Hey, George, do you guys want to come to our cabin and talk about strategy?” Katie flirts, biting her lip. My jaw clenches, and I’m about to say something when Ginny beats me to the punch. 

“Um? What about me, Harry, and Ron? I’m a chaser, too. Ron’s our keeper, and Harry is the damn captain,” Ginny snides. 

“Oh, um. Yeah, you guys can come too, I guess,” Angelina says, shifting on her feet. 

“Or, we can talk about something else?” Katie says flirtily to George. Okay. That’s fucking IT. 

I stand up, slamming my hands down on the table and making them both jump as Ginny smiles at me, knowing I’m about to tear them a new asshole. “Clearly, they’re busy. So stop eye-fucking my boyfriends, and fucking get lost,” I spit at them. 

They both blink a few times and look at me in shock. “Wait, did you say your boyfriends? Like, you’re with both of them?” Angelina asks. 

“I thought you were just their friend?” Katie says, annoyance dripping in her tone as she squints her eyes at me. 

“First of all, Katelyn,” I sneer her full name. “I am, and always will be, their best fucking friend,” I narrow my eyes at her before looking at Angelina. “And second, Angelina,” I sneer her name with the same tone of voice. “Yes, I am dating both of them. They’re mine, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll fucking back off. Now, if you two don’t get fucking lost, I’m going to kick your asses all the way to Hogwarts,” I tell them, my body shaking with rage. 

“Wow, jealous much?” Katie sneers. 

I move to jump over the table, but Fred and George pull me back and sit me down in my seat. “Get fucking lost, or you’re off the team, Bell,” Harry warns them. She opens her mouth to speak but just huffs and rolls her eyes as she and Angelina back out of the compartment, close the door, and walk away. 

The twins rub the adrenaline from my legs, and Fred leans into my ear. “That was fucking hot,” he quips with a chuckle. 

 I shoot him a glare and narrow my eyes. “Seriously?! Neither of you said a damn thing!” I say angrily, looking from him to George on my other side, crossing my arms in a huff.

“Yeah, because you had it handled, baby,” George says with a chuckle as he kisses the side of my head. 

“Aww, it’s okay, little one,” Fred says, gripping my upper thigh. 

“Don’t ‘little one’ me,” I snip at him, trying not to smile at their teasing. But one look across the table at our friends, pursing their lips and covering their mouths to hide their laughter, is enough to make me laugh, and doon, we’re all in a fit of howling laughter. 

“Oh my God, I thought you were going to strangle them,” Hermione laughs. 

“Did you see them jump when she stood? I thought their heads were going to bounce off of the ceiling,” Ginny howls with laughter. 

“Angelina looked like she was about to piss herself,” Ron adds with a laugh, tipping his head back. 

“It was really, very cute, baby,” George says with a smile. “But also terrifying.” 

“Would you have really kicked them off of the team, Harry?” Fred asks with a chuckle.

Harry shrugs and puts his arm around Ginny. “Honestly? I thought y/n was going to murder them before I got the chance,” he laughs. 

Soon, the trolly comes by, indicating that we’re a little over halfway to Hogwarts. I get a hot cocoa and a pumpkin pasty. We talk and eat, having a great time before the compartment door opens again. But instead of girls, it’s fucking Draco. Here we go.

“Um, y/n, can I have a word?” He asks me. 

Fred and George move to stand up, but I put my hands on their arms, guiding them to sit back down. “What the fuck do you want, Malfoy?” I ask, annoyed. 

“A word, if I may,” he says, eyeing Fred and George, and his jaw ticks. 

I roll my eyes and sip my cocoa. “You said plenty in that pathetic fucking letter you wrote me. Talk to your pug-faced bitch and leave me alone. And tell her to wash her fucking hair. It’s so damn greasy it makes Snape’s look like a damn shampoo commercial,” I spit back at him. 

“Watch your fucking mouth,” Draco spits back at me. Everyone looks at me, Fred, and George with wide eyes. 

“Oo, you fucked up now, Malfoy,” Ginny teases and laughs. 

Fred and George look at me, begging me to let him have it, and I raise my hands. “No fists,” I tell them as they nod and stand up. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” George asks, clutching the table so hard his knuckles turn white. Draco’s best bet is to say nothing and just walk away. But does he? Nope. 

“I told her to watch her mouth about Pansy,” Draco doubles down. 

“Apologize to our girlfriend. Now,” Fred warns him. 

Draco shoots me a confused look, but I just smile smugly and nod. “Don’t look at her to fucking save you,” George spits, getting his attention again.

“Still waiting on that apology, you little ferret bitch,” Fred demands. But Draco is still clearly focused on the ‘boyfriends’ part. 

“You’re dating both of them?” Draco sneers at me. 

“Yup,” I shrug, taking another sip of my cocoa. “Needed two huge dicks to catch up for lost time with your one shitty one,” I sneer with a smug smile. 

“You didn’t seem to mind sucking it,” he sneers back. Thinking that saying I sucked his dick in front of my boyfriends means he won. 

I roll my eyes and laugh. “Doesn’t mean I enjoyed it,” I say dismissively. 

“You still came on it,” Draco fires back pathetically. 

I can’t help but laugh. “Want to you want? A sticker?” I tease with a sneer. “Congratulations, you made a girl cum,” I clap my hands sarcastically as I lean across the table. “But let me get one thing clear,” I narrow my eyes. “I may have moaned your name,” I nod to him. “But I fucking scream theirs,” I nod to Fred and George. 

Draco shakes his head and walks out without another word, and Fred and George sit back down next to me. “I’m so fucking proud of you,” Fred praises me as he cups my face and kisses me deeply, making me hum against his lips. 

When he pulls back, George takes the chance to pull my face to his and kiss me next. “You’re a goddamn vision, woman,” George says, biting my lower lip. The rest of the train ride is peaceful. Well, as peaceful as it can be with Fred and George constantly teasing me by sliding their fingers up my thighs under my skirt and toying with my slit over my panties, but never giving me a release. Fuck. They might just win and get me on my knees.

Part Seven

[roadtogracelandx45]

Coming the Week of July 7th.

Since I decided I need a week or so to get myself together and just write without worrying about updating I am going to start posting the week of the 7th.

Part 3 (maybe 4) of Currahee - Courage Under Fire- Band of Brothers

Part 2 of Unexpected- Webgott x Olivia Stewart- Band of Brothers

Part 1 of Fearless- Bucky Egan x OFC- Masters of The Air (masterlist and synopsis coming soon)

Part 2 of 10 Days- Band of Brothers x Masters of the Air crossover

Part 1 of Someone To Love- Steve Rogers x Stark OFC- Avengers (masterlist and synopsis coming soon)

Part 2 of Baby, I Do- Elvis x Sylvie- Elvis (Biopic 2022)

Part 2 of Among Angels- Rooster x Kazansky OFC x Hangman- Top Gun Maverick

Part 1 of Darkest Before The Dawn (rewrite)- Dean Winchester x OFC- Supernatural

Part 2 of Royal- Fred Weasley x OFC x George Weasley- Harry Potter