After the longest family meeting to date, George wants one thing and one thing only. You.
A Tale of East and West
George Weasley x fem!reader
warnings: 18+ bc of AU, soft slight almost smut
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“You’re back late.”
You curl your legs to your chest, humming as the blankets swath you warmer. “I figured I’d see you for dinner, maybe not until dessert. At least before morning light hit my room.”
You prop yourself up as he bends down, unlacing his shoes to place aside your fluffy slippers. “Are you even going to—“
“Do you ever stop talking?”
You grin widely at his tone, a hybrid of irritation and amusement bouncing around the base of his throat. “I thought you loved it when I ramble?”
He smirks up at you from the floor, hair wild from his hands running through it, burning in the gentle blue of the lingering night. “I do, fairy,” he mumbles, leaning forward to sigh against your mouth, “Love kissing you more.”
He pulls himself onto the bed, lithe fingers quickly finding your waist. Your own work swiftly, pushing off his jacket and unbuckling his pants, the two of you kissing all the while. His chest presses into yours, pushing you down to the bed, his hands rounding your back to tease the hem of your panties. You buck into the touch, gasping when George trails his kisses down your neck. You blink furiously, lashes fluttering as he sucks your pulse point. You don’t think you can speak, but do manage a breathless “How was your meeting?”
George growls from the base of his throat, rocking into you as you whine from the pain. His lips never leave your skin, his love sinking into your collarbone. “I’ll tell you tomorrow”.
This story is 18+ only! Minors, please DO NOT INTERACT. Each drabble/blurb will be listed in chronological order first, and then down below by pairing.
summary: Technically speaking, this city is divided by the bay. A wide breadth of icy water, darker than the secrets clung to its bottom. Realistically though, the city’s divided by wealth, power. It’s occupants tethered to the people who’ve acquired both, whether they know it or not.
Ran by both twins, but the playground of the elder. A place your friends had promised would be the perfect escape, where your drunken debauchery was sure to go unnoticed. So long as everything goes to plan...
A Tale of East and West
Fred Weasley x fem!reader
warnings: 18+ bc of AU, Mafia!Fred (eek!! He’s here!), smoking, drugs, implications of violence
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Fred groans, dropping his head back on the plush leather beneath him. It’s dirty, no doubt, cracked with age and overuse. But it’s his favorite, so it stays untouched, the decrepit throne of the private upstairs booth.
He blinks, lids heavy from the high, the smoke curling around his head. His eyes never leave you though, an unsuspecting beauty dancing with her friends. You’re new, a fourth addition to the regular trio. And different too, your dress somehow brighter than the others, wide grin and drunken giggles carrying through the pulsing club to burn through Fred’s core. He shifts forward, elbows on his knees, beckoning two fingers for Jordan’s attention.
The lieutenant stills the waist circling his lap, her small huff swallowed by the booming music. She makes the mistake of crossing her arms to pout, but drops them quickly as Lee’s nails sink into her skin. “Watch yourself, pretty,” Fred purrs, “Or I’ll have to send you back to Irina and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
His tone is teasing but the threat deathly serious, cemented by a playful wink which forces the dancer to swallow shakily. Both she and Lee know what comes next, neither surprised as Fred’s voice drops to ice, gaze frozen over with stoney fury. “Get out.” She simpers away wordlessly, Lee’s gaze following the curve of her ass as she goes. “Sorry ‘bout that boss. The girl can get needy.”
“Dammit Jordan, then find one who’s not so needy! You know I don’t like having to be an asshole!” Fred fixes his friend with a hard glare before muttering for a light, snatching a fresh joint from McLaggan’s outstretched hand. Lee has the sense to apologize and promise it won’t happen again, silently waiting for Fred to stop glowering and tell him what he wants.
Fred takes a few puffs before sitting back, his eyes back on you where you stumble at the bar, bent over the counter to shout your order to the tender. Your shimmering dress has risen at the move, the apples of your ass barely visible from his perch in the sky. He watches as you get your drink and smile, pulling a few folded bills out your bra to toss on the counter as tip. He twirls the joint between his fingers, using the but to follow your frame as you weave your way back to your friends. “See Starlight down there?”
Lee nods, quick to pick up on your gleaming silvery dress.
Summary: The East side is ruled by a newly established family. Brought to prominence by accident, respected only as much is needed. Kings, in their territory, lovingly labeled the Red Turf. But to the others? The older families? The Weasley’s are expected to fall back to their rightful place. Sooner rather than later, the moment an opportunity arises...
A Tale of East and West
warnings: Mafia/Mob AU, mentions of violence/mob activity, blood
Slight George Weasley x reader if you squint
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“About time. We were wondering where you’d got to.”
“Sorry Bill, Won’t happen again.” George mutters, eyes on the table as rounds the room to pull out his chair. Seven pairs of eyes are heavy on his shoulders, and he’d rather not share who what held him up, but luckily he’s used to the weight. And judging by the fresh scratches on Charlie’s face, George won’t bare the burden much longer. Still, it’s tense as he fixes his jacket and sits down, the polished cherry duplicating his sister’s weary look. She’s usually quite composed, a bystander to Bill’s lethal brotherly lectures. But she’s fucked up, the cost of whatever mishap she’s made gouged into Charlie’s chin. George keeps his composure cool, shifting forward to match his twin. “What have I missed?”
“Problem in the East Docks.” Fred answers, smirking while he adjusts the leaf between his lips. George watches the smoke curl above his head before plucking the cig from Fred to snuff it in his Scotch. He ignores his brother’s huff, turning to the head of the table. “Personal?”
“What do you think?” Charlie growls, jutting to the blood staining his cheek.
“It appears the ferret’s gotten bold.” Bill leans back in his seat with a slow exhale, fiddling with his pinky ring before pushing out of his chair. The pleats of his maroon waistcoat flex as he walks, meticulously uncuffing his sleeves on the way. “Decided he can attack our own blood on Red turf.”
George squints as Bill stops in front of the bay window, the sunlight reflecting off his rings and earrings. “And what the fuck made him think he could do that? We’ve kept it tight Bill.” Ron snaps, shifting in his own seat to escape the sunset’s glare.
George’s eyes find her before Bill’s hands land on her shoulders, taught despite what they all know is a gentle hold. Although Ginny raises a call for doubt, her own stare trained on her lap, lower lip flushed rosey from her nibbling. Bill bends down till his nose bumps her ear, the intimidation washing over the boardroom. “Yes, tell us, Gin. What the fuck made him think he could do that?”
a/n: here she is, my first drabble for this Mafia!AU! I’m going to post these drabbles as they come to me, and eventually build a masterlist so they’ll all live in one place. And a snippet on what’s happening across town is on her way...
An extensive high rise which towers over the West Bay. Word is you can’t even get a tour if you don’t know somebody, and you’ll be lucky to get an email response if you know somebody who knows somebody. The tenants are bored of silver spoons, occasionally excited by an upgraded private jet. It’s a high life, and not one that often takes stock in what happens across the Bay.
A Tale of East and West
Fred Weasley x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ because of AU, mentions of drinking and drugs
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“God my head is fucking killing me!”
You spin on your heel, wincing from the whiplash to your own pounding headache. “Will you do me a favor and shut the fuck up? I don’t need Cassi knowing we were clubbing last night.”
“Relax, you know she’s on a run.” Your friend rolls her eyes, side stepping you and snatching your keys. “Even if she were here, she doesn’t know where we went.”
You blink, watching with a small frown as she unlocks your door. “We’ve been there three nights in a row.”
“She doesn’t need to know that either.”
You follow her into your apartment, humming as the heated tiles warm your feet before locking n the door behind you. Your friend falls onto the ground with an exasperated sigh, sequined mini skirt riding up as she stretches out. “Think your prim and proper trust-fund cousin would complain about me sleeping right here?”
“Yes,” you snort, toeing her aside to venture further into the condo, “And so would I, that floor is disgusting.”
She grumbles something about knowing you uppity people have a paid cleaning service, but you’re too busy confirming Cassi’s not home to care. Cassiopeia, to be precise, six months older and favorited over you throughout family line. She could make your life hell with one whisper of your weekend rager, especially if her mother, Bellatrix, found out. As long as you don’t black out in public your father won’t care, never one to take to family traditions. He’d scoffed at the prospect of naming you after a constellation, and always offered hushed comedic narration of the stuffy family meetings. But even he would berate you for crossing the river, and probably lock your bank account if he knew you were at The Gemini. You’ve planned on telling him you were at your uncles’ if he ever did find out, but seeing as you hadn’t even told Sirius about your new clubbing spot you’re not inclined to do that anytime soon.
Thankfully Cassi’s room is empty, fluffy lavender bed made to perfection. You close her door quickly, snagging aspirins and goldfish on your way to your room. Your friend’s already placed two pedialytes on your bedside tables, grinning as you toss her two blue tablets. “We’re a real look of responsibility, aren’t we?”
You hum with halfhearted agreement, stumbling out of your latex pants and into your pajamas. You ignore her sleepily concerned stare to brush your teeth, surprised she’s still awake when you come back and climb into your bed.
“Y/N,” your friend yawns, curling up on the pillow next to you, “We paid in cash, took the bus and used foreign fakes. Nobody knows we were there.”
You play with your comforter before pulling it up your shoulders, taking a moment to sigh from the soft warmth. “Yeah,” you finally nod, “I know.”
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Fred glares at the manila envelope Lee’s slapped before him, quick to grab his plate and avoid it being ruined by George’s spilt tea. The younger groans, lifting his cup. “Could you watch it Jordan?”
“Sod off, you know you’ll drink two more anyways. Check it, Boss.”
“What?” Fred grumbles, still frowning beneath his shades.
“Your little Starlight,” Lee nods to the lopsided star scribbled across the folder’s front, “And you’ll never believe who her Daddy is.”
a/n: Wolfstar is 100% cannon in this AU, so when reader refers to her uncles’, she means her uncles ☺️💞
A beloved breakfast spot for every East sender. And before you ask, yes breakfast is served 24/7
A Tale of East and West
Warnings: 18+ bc of AU, mentions of mafia violence
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“You never told me y’know.”
“Told you what?” George frowns, eyebrows knit as he watches you pile way too much whipped cream on your waffles.
“How your meeting went.”
George pauses before swallowing, taking extra care to clean his teeth while you wait expectantly. “My sister’s had some boy troubles, we just needed to make sure everything’s alright.”
“Oh.”
George’s eyes return to his plate, gaze locked on his eggs while he hopes you accept that explanation. He can see your hands haven’t moved though, and your silence builds a foreboding tension in the air. He makes sure his mouth is full before glancing up at your face, stifling his surprise at the concern etched into your features. “Is…is she..?”
“No,” George shakes his head while furiously chewing faster, “She’s fine.”
“Oh. It’s just you took so long to come back over so—“
“The kid’s a royal prick for sure, but it’s not like he’s done anything we’d kill him for.” He smiles as ease returns to your shoulders, ignoring the guilt stirring in his gut at how easily you accept his blatant lie as a joke. He reaches across the table for your hand, turning it so he can run soothing circles atop your palm. “It’s nothing. My mum wanted us to stay for dinner, and then too many rounds of board games after. That’s all.”
You smile, accepting his story with a nod before returning to your food. Your hand fiddles with his for the rest of your meal, the conversation floating between the new plant you want for your apartment and when the two of you can take another private cooking class together.
George’s fingers lock between yours once you stand to leave, his thumb caressing your skin as he leads you to the door. You study his back on the way, his tall frame softly moulded in his knitted sweater, tousled hair darker in the dirty window’s beam. It’s a sight that would usually make you smile, but the frown you wear can’t be helped.
It’s just something…off. Not quite right. Not since earlier last night, when you’d taken your trash down and overheard murmurs of Weasley girl and West End kid, tied together by a lower watch his back. That sounded like a lot more than nothing, and your waffles tasted bitter with the implication that George was lying to you. Still, George was the sweetest boyfriend you could ever have, and you know he treasures his sister more than his own life. If he says it’s fine then it’s fine, and if not it’s still his family business and he has every right to keep that private, especially if Ginny asked him to. You’re sure there’s something more, and you could always cross the river to visit your godmother, take a long winded stroll and see if you can overhear anything more…
No. No, you can’t do that, pry into Ginny’s business like you’re entitled to it. If George won’t tell you the truth then it must be for good reason. For the right reason. You quickly force a smile when George stops, standing aside to hold the door open for you my. “After you, Fairy.” He winks, grinning as you press a sweet kiss to his cheek before proudly following after you.
It’s quite serene, usually. A gentle quiet broken by chittering birds or the flutter of a wind chime. Sometimes it’s loud, bulbous laughter and the clamor of 20+ voices resounding throughout the meadow. But now it’s Erie, ripe with a tension that could break a horse’s back
A Tale of East and West
18+ bc of AU, drug use
———————
Bill cleans the barrel of his gun with ease, his fingers moving deftly as he lifts the instrument to his eyes. Charlie’s moments are stiffer, punctuated by his determination for vengeance, ratification. Percy sits almost bored, waiting to be excused to his room. The command center, their watchful eye for the impending gathering. Usually he’s on the books, nose down instead of out. Ron muttered something about thinking he’d be more excited about this opportunity, ignorant to his private pleas for Bill to reconsider such an aggressive initial response. Pleas which ended in frigid silence, followed by a muttered apology and reaffirmed faith in the family.
Ron’s guns sit cleaned, his mind preoccupied with review of his assigned responsibilities for today. Stand quietly, keep eyes level, don’t flinch when referred to as ‘Weaslebe’. Let Bill do the talking. The latter point overemphasized by Potter, re-assembling his own piece sat next to his best friend. He’s the only one of water going inside today, Lee to stay out front with McLaggan. Bill had debated long about it, even with Harry’s status as a member of his board. Practically one of them, he is, but the surname of his guardian could be a liability. Or an advantage, Ginny had whispered, finally fixing Bill with a look other than irritation. He hadn’t been able to name it, but put it aside for now, something to come back to after this evening was handled.
Ginny could name it. It was a cocktail of remorse, irritation with herself and her brothers, their collective failure to keep their rule lowkey. Of course the West Enders would know of their ascension anyways, use any means necessary to invoke a challenge and she should have realized Corner was only using her just as she was only using him. And the worst part was that she hadn’t even gotten what she wanted, not a single clue as to where her friend had gone, what had happened to Luna. And now she’s sent her brothers into the lion’s den, her brothers and Harry, who—for some godforsaken reason—she can’t bring it in herself to hate.
George closes the door to Ginny’s room, meeting Fred’s expectant gaze with a shake of his head.
“Nothing? Is she fucking serious?”
George watches Fred fumble for a light with a sigh, casually walking closer to light his joint with a lighter of his own. “If she just talked then we could get this shit over with faster. Now we’ll have to listen to monotonous talks before any action and fuck knows when I’ll be able to get over to Gemini.”
“Can’t the girl wait?” George clicks the light closed while digging for his phone, eyes on his Oxfords while Fred huffs.
“I’ve waited all fucking week, I need to talk to her now. Don’t tell me you don’t know the feeling.”
George’s homescreen lights up, two missed calls and a few texts from you topping his notifications. Another pings as Fred exhales a deep puff of smoke, the flower’s essence curling around both their heads.
Wow, two missed calls and he didn’t jump at my suggestion for a Saturday movie marathon? Should I be worried? 😯🤭😅
“Yeah,” George mutters while turning his phone off, quickly looking up from the dark screen to ignore his pathetic reflection, “I know the feeling.”
The nicest place in the East Side. At least as far as Instragram influencers are concerned. It’s a hotel, the southernmost on their side of the Bay. Practically on the river, with an outdoor promenade even West Side teens frequent. The restaurant in the lobby is the real star of the show, always hosting birthday parties and catering Wedding receptions, the bubbly head chef herself guaranteed to make an appearance. And with a special spot for the baby Weasley, the unassumingly lucrative turf is effectively Ginny’s.
A Tale of East and West
Ginny Weasley x Harry Potter
warnings: 18+ bc of AU, drinking, mafia violence
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“So they’ve sent you to do their dirty work? Couldn’t face me themselves?”
“I think they’re sick of you at the moment.”
Ginny actually smiles at his teasing tone, smirking over her martini at the lithe brunette who slides into the booth opposite her. “You’re not sick of me Harry?”
“Never could be.” His tone is blunt, accidental honesty, confirmed by the pink tinge spread through his cheeks.
“It’s good to know you’ll never lie to me.” Ginny whispers, smiling at the slight shake in Harry’s hand as he thanks the waiter and sips his whisky. She meets his gaze once he looks up, loving the soft awe but hating the intense curiosity. “Why won’t you tell them what you were doing?”
“Because it’s none of their business.” Ginny snaps, huffing into her drink.
“Charlie got hurt.”
“He’s fine”
“They drew blood, Ginny. You know what that means.”
His tone is now pleading, the one Ginny hates the most. He sounded the same way when they were younger, after she’d found out he’d only kissed her on a dare from Ron. She’d refused his apology, flushed his flowers down the toilet, burnt his unopened letter as he watched helplessly. So he knows what happens next, sighing as she rolls her eyes and slides out of the booth. Harry lets her pass, not looking back to call, “Corner has three days.”
He hears her stop, heels stuttering on the black and white floor. She’s only still for a moment, quick to right herself and stalk out of the restaurant. Still, Harry’s job is done, so he leans forward on the table, signaling the waiter for another round.
