Hey guys! I have had the headcanon that George would turn into a puddle when you call him something sweet, and my hypothetical question got lots of positive responses. So, here I am, yet again, offering a subby boy because that’s my specialty. Hope y’all enjoy!
Pairing: George Weasley x Reader
Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids!), sub!George, dom!reader, pet name kink, praise kink, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, riding, swearing
There was one thing about dating George Weasley that was an absolute fact: George loved pet names. Of course, you knew that to a degree. Since you started dating, it had become a rarity that he called you by your given name. You would have hated it from anyone else. Pet names typically weren’t your thing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hate them when his voice dripped with sweetness. However, it never really occurred to you that he might want you to use them too. It wasn’t until the two of you were lying on a couch in the Room of Requirement that you even thought about it.
Snuggled up to his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he dozed, you began to reflect on the whole pet name situation. He always had something sweet on the tip of his tongue while you only ever called him George. Georgie, if you were feeling particularly affectionate. You wondered if it bothered him that you didn’t have a cute name for him. It wasn’t like he’d ever asked, but sometimes he had trouble asking for things that he thought were embarrassing without joking about it. He always gave you delightfully cheesy nicknames when people were around that could easily be brushed off as joking. So maybe the embarrassment thing was the case. He just didn’t exactly know how to ask.
“I can hear the wheels turning in your head, sweetheart,” George said, breaking you from your musings.
“Sorry, go back to sleep,” you said, nuzzling his neck affectionately.
“Wasn’t sleeping before anyway. Even if I was, what goes on in that brain of yours has to be more interesting,” he said. Smiling, you rolled completely on top of him so you could see him better. “Well, hello there.“
"You caught me. I was thinking again,” you said.
“Were you thinking about me?"
"Why, yes, in fact, I was."
"How embarrassing. Do you have a crush on me or something, love?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
“You’re an idiot,” you said fondly. “Really, though, I wanted to ask you something.” The playfulness drained from his face immediately as he adopted a more serious expression. He almost looked a little worried. Smiling, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss between his furrowed brows in an attempt to make the wrinkle go away.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“No, I was just thinking about the nickname thing,” you said. Your answer did nothing to relieve the expression.
“Don’t you like them? I’ll call you something else if you want.” You shook your head.
“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted me to call you something else. Do you want cute names too?” you asked. George shifted under you, his expression morphing into one you’d become incredibly familiar with. A bright red flush bloomed over his cheeks as an almost concerningly wide grin pulled at his lips.
“Thought you’d never ask snookums!” he laughed nervously, “Here I thought you were about to let Ron and Hermione out cute us. Personally, I think you should go for something like ‘the sweetest love of my life and future husband.’ The whole phrase. Just to prove them that we’re the cuter pair.” As he rambled, you found yourself becoming more and more amused by his expert avoidance of your eyes.
“George?” Your voice was gentle but prodding, cutting his nervous speech short. Blinking, he offered another nervous laugh.
“Yes, darling, sweetness, light of my life?” he asked.
“Right. I’ll live a lot longer if I do that,” he said, pulling in a steadying breath. Smiling, you ran your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him further.
“Now, as much as I truly do like ‘the sweetest love of my life and future husband,’ it’s kinda a mouthful,” you said.
“That’s what she said,” George rattled off automatically.
“Jesus, I didn’t mean to fluster you so bad. I’m sorry, sunshine,” you said, testing the name.
And he whimpered. It was just a soft, breathy little sound. One you would have missed if you hadn’t quite literally been laying on his chest. You weren’t even sure if he was aware he’d done it, but, Christ, were you happy he did. That one little sound told you so much. Not to mention the way his fingers squeezed needily at your hips and that his eyes seemed to lose focus. Suddenly, you felt like you were taking up his entire field of vision. Nothing beyond you existed. Not to him. All that for just one simple word.
“You like, sunshine?” you asked.
“I dunno if it has the same ring as, uh, as whatever it was that I said, but it’s alright,” he said, squirming under your penetrating gaze.
“Just alright? You want something else?” you teased.
“If you-if you think you can c-come up with something better,” he stuttered.
“Okay, baby boy,” you purred.
If you thought sunshine had done it for him, baby boy blew that out of the water. A shiver tore through his body right down to his fingertips as his mouth dropped open into a quiet moan. Despite the low volume, the sound echoed in your ears. It dripped with pure need. As though he couldn’t go another second without you touching him. The cherry flush that bloomed high in the apples of his cheeks swooped over the tips of his ears. He was beautiful. Enticing. And you were only human. Leaning forward, you traced your tongue up the shell of his ear, biting it lightly.
“That better?” you muttered against his ear. Pulling back, you watched as George opened and closed his mouth, fishing for anything to say in response. He wasn’t having much luck, just spitting out collections of sounds that didn’t quite resemble words.
“Come on, baby boy, use your words,” you said, cupping his cheek and rolling your thumb over his bottom lip.
“Yes.” His voice cracked on the word.
“Good boy,” you said, smirking like a well-fed cat, “Now, how 'bout we get you out of those clothes. I wanna see all of my pretty baby."
"Please,” he breathed. Carefully, you repositioned yourself, so you had full access to his clothing. You only managed a couple of buttons before his much larger hand curled around one of yours. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he brushed a tender kiss over your knuckles.
“I love you, (Y/N),” he said. Smiling, you pulled his hand to your mouth and returned the gesture.
“I love you too,” you replied.
With your hand back, you made quick work of his shirt. You pushed it open and took in the lightly freckled expanse of his chest. His skin was a swirl of cinnamon-colored constellations. You trailed your fingers across them, admiring the trail of goosebumps the left behind. George was lovely. Devastatingly so. Bringing your head down, you followed the same path your fingers had taken, stopping briefly to lap at his nipples. He whined softly at the attention, tangling his hands in your hair.
“You’re so beautiful,” you said.
You kissed up his chest to his lips, and he tilted his head to meet you. His lips pressed hungrily to your own. The faint taste of honey teased your senses as you dipped your tongue into his mouth. You loved that he always managed to taste sweet. Lightly, you ran your tongue over his own, savoring that elusive sweetness for as long as you could. Slipping your hand down to rub him through his pants, you were surprised to find him fully hard. Even though you’d barely touched him, he was straining against his zipper.
“(Y/N),” he whimpered against your mouth.
“I bet that’s uncomfortable. You want me to take care of that, baby boy?” you asked, popping the button.
“Please. Please take care of it,” he begged, bucking his hips into your hand. Without responding, you pushed his pants down to his thighs while trailing burning kisses down his torso. You pressed a kiss to each of his hip bones before wrapping your hand around his cock. Giving it a few long, slow strokes that had him bucking into your hand, you looked up at him.
“Tell me what you want,” you said.
“Your mouth. Please, (Y/N),” he said quickly.
“Anything for my sweet baby boy,” you said.
Slowly, you dragged your tongue from the base to the tip, paying special attention to the ridge of the head. A low moan sounded above you. You took a moment to appreciate the sound before sinking his cock into your mouth. His hips bucked, and you gagged slightly. Breathing softly through your nose, you gripped his hips tightly to keep him from doing it again. You bobbed your head slowly, running your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock.
“C'mon, don’t tease,” George begged, straining against your restrictive grip.
You didn’t say anything but picked up the pace slightly. Removing on hand from its place on his hip, you fondled his balls and teased lightly at his perineum. His hips flexed wildly against your hand. It only took swallowing around him once before he was calling out warnings and groaning loudly into the open air. You pulled off before he could cum, ignoring the disappointed whine.
“Wanna come. Please, (Y/N), I wanna come so bad,” he cried, bucking into the air looking for friction.
“I know, baby boy,” you said, shimmying out of your pants. “I wanna be ridding you when you do, but you gotta prep me first. Can you do that for me? Can you finger me until I’m nice and open for you, baby boy?"
"Uh-huh,” he said, fumbling for the lube that appeared on the table. Turning, you presented yourself to him, so he had better access. Gentle as always, he sunk a long finger into you.
“That’s my good boy,” you sighed. As he fingered you open, he pressed open-mouthed kisses to the backs of your thighs. You wrapped your hand around his cock again, stroking it in time with the thrusts of his fingers. Then he curled them a bit.
“There! That’s it,” you mewled, rocking back against him.
“More!” He obediently added another finger.
“Am I making you feel good?” he asked, his voice hoarse. Whether it was from moaning or just from the idea that he was bringing you pleasure, you couldn’t tell.
“So good,” you said. You felt his cock twitch in your hand, and he shivered.
“Let me sit on your pretty cock, baby boy,” you purred. Almost reluctantly, he slipped his fingers from you, and you positioned yourself over him. Neither of you was interested in waiting long. Once he was fully seated inside you, you could already feel him shivering with the effort not to cum.
“Move?” It came out as a question. Both asking your permission and begging you to ride him until he was shaking with overstimulation.
Picking up your hips, you dropped them back slowly. You savored the slight burn of the stretch. Hands quickly found your hips. And then you were moving. You weren’t sure if he’d thrust up into you or if you’d started this pace on your own. You didn’t care. It didn’t matter when he was hitting that spot inside you just right.
“So good, baby boy! Right there!” you cried.
“So tight. So good. Wanna cum! Please can I cum?” he begged, digging his fingers into your hips in a way that would definitely bruise.
Pulling his chin up with two fingers, you kissed him like your life depended on it. Tongues tangled sloppily, your teeth clicked together, and the angle was a little off considering the constant motion. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to care with him, whining obscenities into your mouth. Begging to cum so prettily. If you were a little meaner or not so desperate yourself, you’d draw it out a little longer. Maybe next time. Separating with a wet pop, you smoothed your thumb across his spit-slick, swollen lips.
“Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me?” you asked. He nodded, hooded eyes staring at you pleadingly.
“Close, close, please,” he whined, dropping his head forward to your chest.
“Cum, baby boy.” With a long, low moan, he was gone. He pounded sloppily into you with uncontrolled thrusts, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you impossibly closer. Between that and the sight of his utterly wrecked expression, you went tumbling over the edge after him. Your own shout of pleasure shook the room. Your thighs trembled with the force of it. For a second, you swore, you stopped breathing.
“Holy fuck,” you panted as you came down from your high.
“Felt pretty holy to me,” George said, leaning heavily against the arm of the couch.
“When I find my brain, I’ll say something witty,” you said. You let him slip out of you, opting to ignore the mess running down your thighs in favor of laying against his chest again.
“Anytime you wanna do that again, I’d happily oblige, love,” he said.
“You just fucked my brain across the room while I called you baby boy, and you’re already thinking about round two?” you snorted.
“Should I not be?” Well, round two did sound pretty good.
“Give me a hot minute, and I’ll get right on that, sunshine.” You didn’t miss the love in his dark eyes as he gazed down at you with a crooked grin. Or the way his cock twitched in interest.
