summary - The train compartment had gotten a bit crowded on the way to Hogwarts, so your best friend Fred offered for you to sit in his lap. However, throughout the ride you just couldn't seem to get comfortable...
contains - smut, dom!Fred, swearing, fingering, orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), teasing, hair pulling, rough sex, cum swallowing
word count - 4834
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The twins and I were laughing about something stupid that George had said as the train left the station. I lightly hit the boy in the arm, "Shut up!" I say between laughter.
After we had calmed down, Fred spoke up, "Let's go meet up with Lee and the girls." He said, referring to Alicia and Angelina. The six of us had been a tight knit group since first year, and it now being our sixth year, it was safe to say that we were all extremely close.
George and I agreed, and so the three of us began our trek down the aisles of the train, looking into each of the compartments. Once we found them, we squeezed into the small room, greeting one another.
As the three of us sat down, it began to be a tad bit cramped, with Lee and Alicia taking up the whole of one side, Fred and I had to squeeze in beside Angelina and George.
I pushed past how uncomfortable I was as Lee started a conversation, asking, "Do any of you have a clue as to what's happening at Hogwarts this year?"
"No! Mum's been going ballistic and nobody will tell us what's going on." George told them, Fred nodding along, "Yeah, it's like all the adults are keeping this giant secret."
The topic continued for about twenty minutes, everyone butting in with their own theories as the what was happening. I couldn't really pay attention as I was severely uncomfortable, being pressed in between Fred's shoulder and the window, my arms were pretty much completely constricted.
Fred glanced over at me, with a crease in his brow, noticing how squashed and uncomfortable I was, he leant down slightly to speak to me, "You alright, love?"
"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine, it's just a bit cramped in here." I told him, brushing it off. The boy chuckled lightly, shaking his head, before suddenly he pulled me up by my waist, and placed me in his lap.
I was a bit surprised at first, my eyes going wide for a split second until I let out a small sigh of relief at now finally being able to move my arms. I turned back slightly with a light chuckle and gave him a thankful nod, to which he returned with a cheeky smile.
For a while, everything was fine, I was comfortable and laughing along with the lively conversations in the compartment. But that stopped when I started to squirm a bit, causing Fred to still, letting out a quiet groan, which I didn't quite catch.
I stopped after a moment, finding a comfortable stop on his lap, making the boy let out an inaudible sigh of relief. His attention was brought back to the conversation for a mere minute before I started moving my hips again, finding my spot atop him to be growing more and more uncomfortable the longer I sat here.
One movement I made in particular had my ass digging right into his now hardening bulge. He harshly grabbed my hips, halting my movements which made me jump a bit at the sudden contact.
The boy leaned forward towards my ear, whispering lightly so the others wouldn't hear, "love, if you don't stop that, we're going to have an issue..." He said, his voice had a sudden rasp to it. The unfamiliar tone sent a shiver down my spine, my eyes widening as I realized what I had been doing, and a deep red blush settled on my cheeks.
I was glad the others weren't paying attention to us, they were too encapsulated by their own conversations.
It was an innocent mistake, I was only trying to get comfortable, forgetting that I was literally sitting on top of Fred's dick and squirming around. I turned back slightly, to look at him, as I whispered back, "Do you want me to move?" I asked, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.
He rose a brow at me, a smirk on his face, "You moving is the problem, love." He joked, making me roll my eyes at him, the blush on my cheeks deepening further. He spoke again, this time with a more serious note, "I just need you to stop fidgeting so much, okay?"
He moved one of his hands from my waist to my thigh, his hand casually resting on my inner thigh, his touch causing my skin to tingle. I turned back around, "Fine..." I spoke, innocently looking out the window, making sure I didn't move anymore.
I watched the trees and landscape fly past us, but I couldn't keep the thoughts out of my head. Of what would happen if I did move again. It was definitely tempting, I bit my lip as dirty thoughts made their way into my head. But I shook them away just as quickly as they came. What was I doing? Fred is my best friend, I can't be thinking about him like this.
But on the other hand, it was tempting. So, after about another minute or two of contemplation in my head, I decided to test the waters.
Pretending like I had forgotten our prior conversation, I just slightly moved my hips against his. The boy let out a cough, as if clearing his throat, but I knew better. I stifled my smirk, before moving again, this time the tiniest bit harder. He sucked in a breath, glaring at the back of my head.
He knew exactly what I was doing, but he couldn't do anything, no matter how badly he wanted to, not with his brother and friends in the same compartment. So, he subtlety pinched my waist, as a warning, which sort of backfired on him as it only made me squirm more, my ass hitting exactly the right spot to rile him up.
I could feel it, the effect I had on him, how could I not? It was digging into my ass. The boy grit his teeth, leaning up a bit to whisper to me, "You're playing a dangerous game, love..." He spoke lowly, but I only shrugged, feigning innocence, my hips moving hard against him, making him groan as I turned to give him a smug smile, "I don't know what you're on about." I say simply, turning back around and making sure my movements stayed completely still.
Fred chuckled lowly, throwing his head back against the seat, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. He was clearly frustrated that I stopped, and I couldn't help but smirk in satisfaction.
About five minutes had gone by, I was so busy basking in glory that I almost missed how Fred gripped my hips and stood us up.
"We're going to go find the trolley. Do any of you want anything?" Fred spoke, asking the others. I was confused by this, but didn't make any move to protest as I was too focused on how hard the boy behind me was grabbing my hips.
Everyone shared a glance before Lee spoke, "No, we're good."
Fred nodded before moving us forward and pushing us out of the compartment and letting the door slide closed behind us. He loosened his tight grip on my hips, but kept them resting there as he pushed me forward to walk down the corridor.
I had no doubt in my mind that he was keeping me so close in front of him to hide his boner. I let a smug smile wash over my face at the situation, but it was quickly washed off my face as my arm was suddenly being tugged into the bathroom. I gasped as Fred pulled us into the small room, slamming the door shut, locking it and then proceeding to push me flush against it.
I stared up at him with wide eyes as he towered over me, the dark look in his eyes making me squirm against the door. He rested his arms on either side of me, effectively trapping me in place between him and the door. He leaned in close, his nose almost touching mine, his eyes roaming hungrily over my face.
"You didn't think you were actually gonna get away with that did you?" The boy asked. "You think you're so clever, don't you? Playing with fire like that, teasing me in the train compartment with our friends around."
I couldn't answer, my words failing on me as my mouth opened and closed like a blubbering fish.
Fred smirked at my reaction to his intense gaze. He pressed his body more firmly against mine, leaving me no escape. His hands moved from the door to my hips, keeping me in place, his grip tight enough to leave slight indents on my skin from his long fingers. He rose a taunting brow at me, "Cat got your tongue, love? You were quite the little minx a few minutes ago. What happened?"
I was in such a state of shock, not knowing what to say, my cheeks were burning. As soon as he had pulled me into the bathroom all of my confidence went down the drain. The way he was looking down at me hungrily, his lust filled eyes staring into my soul, it made my knees weak.
Fred chuckled low in his throat, noticing the effect he was having on me. His smirk turned into a sly grin, his eyes drinking in the sight of my flushed cheeks and the way my body was practically trembling against his.
"Not so cocky now, are you? Just a few minutes ago you were teasing me to no end, knowing exactly what it would do to me. But now..." He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above my ear, his voice dropping to a low, sultry whisper. "Now you're trembling beneath my touch, and it's driving me mad."
His hot breath fanning over my ear made me let out a shaky breath, I turned my head slightly to look at him. "Fred..." I breathed out, my eyes flickering down to his lips as I bit down on my own. The air in this small bathroom was thick, I felt like I couldn't breathe.
Fred's eyes darkened as he watched my gaze linger on his lips. His gaze zeroed in on my biting down on my own lip, a sight so tempting that it took all his self-control to not attack my mouth in that very moment. He chuckled softly, the sound rough and filled with desire.
"Say my name again." He commanded, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, as he moved his face closer to mine, his breath mingling with mine in the cramped space between us. He smirked, loving the effect he was having on me. He thrived off of it.
I did as he said, breathing out his name once more, "Fred..." I was getting desperate, I needed him to do something.
Fred's eyes darkened with desire as he heard me say his name again, the tone of my voice making his self-control waver even more. He smiled slightly, enjoying the power he held over me in this moment. He knew I wanted him to do something, but he wasn't going to give in that easily. He loved having me at his mercy, the look of want in my eyes making him feel powerful, and making him want me even more.
"You want something, love?" He asked, his voice low and seductive, as he took a piece of my hair and delicately placed it behind my ear.
I nodded, "Mhm." I hummed out, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes. My desire for him was clouding my head.
Fred smirked down at me, the look in my eyes fueling his arrogance and ego. He slowly moved a hand from my waist to my chin, his fingers gently gripping it and tilting it up slightly, forcing me to maintain eye contact with him.
"Use your words, love. Tell me what you want, and maybe I'll give it to you." He teased.
"I want..." I trail off, my voice failing on me. I cleared my throat, looking up at him, "I want you to kiss me."
Fred was consumed by desire and need, the moment I uttered those words he couldn't hold back anymore. He practically lunged at me, capturing my lips in a rough and needy kiss, full of pent-up passion and desperation. My arms went to circle around his neck, but before I could, he quickly took hold of my wrists, pinning them above me with one hand, holding them firmly against the door.
I let out a gasp at the action, which he took full advantage of by plunging his tongue into my mouth, exploring every inch of it, tasting me, claiming me as his own. His free hand wandered down my body, tracing every curve and contour, making me moan around his tongue.
Fred swallowed my moan, the sound only adding to his hunger and desire. He was intoxicated by me, my gasps and sighs fueling his need to have all of me. He continued to explore my body with his hand, each touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
He broke the kiss, panting slightly, only to attack my neck with his lips and tongue, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive flesh, determined to leave his mark on me.
"Oh, fuck..." I whined as I felt him bite down on my neck, turning my head slightly to give him better access. My arms squirming in his tight hold.
Fred continued his assault on my neck, he released a low growl, his hold on my wrists tightening as he felt me squirm beneath him, clearly enjoying my reaction to his touch. He nipped and sucked, leaving behind a trail of red marks on my neck.
I shivered as he blew cold air over the tender skin, before speaking into my neck, "You're so sensitive."
I couldn't respond, too caught up in the pleasure, but my eyes suddenly widened as I felt his fingers start playing with the waistband of my pants, running against the skin of my lower stomach. I bit my lip in anticipation, and I could feel Fred smirking against my neck when he noticed.
His fingers continued to toy with the waistband of my pants, occasionally slipping beneath it, teasing the sensitive flesh of my stomach, but not going any further than my panty line. I squirmed in his hold, getting impatient.
He broke away from my neck for a moment to look down at me, and the look in his eyes was pure desire and hunger. "You're so pretty like this, love." He whispered, his voice rough with need.
I continued to squirm in his hold, the way he was still holding my arms against the door was maddening. "Please, Fred... Touch me, please." I whined, desperately.
Fred only chuckled evilly, "Why should I, love? You been teasing me all day, testing my patience." He taunted, his fingers continued to toy with the waistband of my pants, occasionally dipping below the fabric, only to slide back out again, teasing me.
"I'm sorry... I won't tease you anymore, just please. I need it." I pleaded, pushing my hips closer to him. The way his fingers were brushing just above where I needed him was making me even more desperate with desire.
His hand moved from my waistband to my hip, gripping it tightly and forcing me back onto the door. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above mine, his words a hot whisper against my mouth. "You're a needy little thing, aren't you? Begging for me like this."
I let out a whimper, nodding at his words as my head rolled against the door. "What do you want, love? Tell me what you need. I want to hear you say it." He said, his voice low and sultry.
"Your fingers. I need them inside of me." I answered, making him chuckle from my blunt response.
"Is that so, hm?" He murmured, his hand trailing away from my hip and moving between my legs to rub me through my pants. I whined at the sensation, finally getting some friction. "You want my fingers, do you? You want me to make you feel good, make you cum?"
I couldn't help but moan from his words, that combined with how he was touching me sent heat over my body. I nodded again, "Yes, please."
"That's a good girl, using your words and asking nicely. I like that." He teased, his fingers moving up to unbutton my pants, pulling them slowly, exposing more of my skin. He began trailing his fingers over the top of my panties, his touch was light and teasing.
He leaned in closer, his lips grazing my ear, as he whispered, "Are you wet for me, love?"
I shivered, nodding my head, "So wet, just for you, Fred." I told him, my arms squirming in his hold once more, I wanted to touch him so badly.
He chuckled darkly at my unsuccessful attempts to break free of his grip, he only tightened his hold on my wrists. He could feel how much I wanted to touch him, but he wasn't done making me a needy mess just yet.
"Is that so?" He whispered, his voice thick with desire, as his fingers slipped beneath the fabric of my panties, gently touching my bare skin, feeling just how aroused I was.
My breathing stuttered as his fingers trailed over my wetness, spreading it over my throbbing clit, causing me to moan loudly. Fred smirked in satisfaction at the sound of my moans, he loved how I was reacting to his touch, how he was reducing me to a moaning mess with just his fingers.
"Shhh, love. You're being too loud. You don't want anyone to hear us, do you? I don't think you want everyone to know just how needy you are for me, how desperate you are for my touch." He whispered, continuing to tease me, his fingers rubbing and circling over my bundle of nerves.
I nodded, biting my lip to stop myself from being too loud, but that went down the drain as I felt him slip two fingers inside of me. I practically screamed at the force with which they entered me. "Fuck!"
Fred chuckled as my reaction to his fingers entering me, it was louder than he initially thought, he quickly dropped his hold from my wrists and moved his hand to cover my mouth, effectively muffling my scream into a mewl.
"Shhh, love. You really can't keep quiet, can you?" He teased, his voice thick as he continued pumping his fingers inside me at a fast pace.
I moaned against his hand, my own hands that were finally free gripping onto his wrist that was moving inside of me. My eyes rolling back in my head as I felt him add a third finger, stretching me out.
"Oh, fuck, love. You're fucking swallowing my fingers." Fred groaned out, curling his fingers inside me, hitting that perfect spot that had that familiar coil in my stomach forming.
I was so close, and I knew he could tell by the way I was clenching around his digits. My breathing was coming out ragged, I was panting against his hand as he continued to hit my g-spot over and over again. My orgasm was right there, I was tipping over the edge until suddenly, Fred took his fingers out of me.
I let out a squeal in protest against his hand, but Fred only chuckled at me, as he dropped his hand from my mouth, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Why... Why did you stop?" I panted out, watching as he placed his three fingers that were dripping in my slick in his mouth, sucking me off of them.
He hummed around his fingers, pulling them out of his mouth with a pop, I stared at him in shock as he responded, "Oh, now, love. You didn't think I was going to let you finish just like that, did you? Not after how naughty you've been all day." He teased, a smirk on his lips.
I let out a huff, throwing my head back against the door, frustrated from being denied my release. But my ears perked up as I heard him undoing his belt, making me look back at him.
"Patience, love." He said, undoing his belt and quickly unzipping his pants. "Good things come to those who wait, remember?" He taunted me, slowly letting his pants fall to the ground, and stepping out of them, leaving him in his boxers.
I stared down at the obvious tent, the one that I had created, I bit my lip watching as he paced towards me, pulling me toward him and kissing me hard.
The kiss was more rough and needy than our previous one, we were breathing heavily into it, devouring each other. My hands trailed into his hair, as his trailed down and squeezed my ass, and I moaned as I felt his hard on press against my lower stomach.
In one swift movement he broke the kiss, turning me around and bending me over the sink. He ran his hands over my back, before harshly pulling my underwear down my legs. His hands ran possessively over my hips.
I looked over my shoulder at him, watching as he pushed his boxers down, freeing his length, my eyes widened at the size. "Shit..." I muttered out.
Fred smirked at my reaction, "See something you like, love?" He teased, making my eyes snap up to meet his gaze.
"You're... So big." I spoke, almost cringing at myself, but I couldn't help it. Fred chuckled at my bluntness, he loved how I was so honest and open with my words, not like most girls he'd been with.
"Don't worry, love. I'll make you feel good." He reassured me as his hands stroked my thighs, moving up and down my skin in a soothing motion.
I bit my lip, nodding my head, the way he could be so rough with me one second, and the next be so comforting was making my head dizzy.
"You're so beautiful, you know that?" He murmured as his hands slowly moved higher up my thighs, nearing my bare core. I shivered at his words, his touch making me more needy.
He bent down slightly, placing a kiss on my hip before he went back up, spreading my legs a bit more and started lining himself up with my entrance, running his dick through my wet folds, making me whine.
"You ready?" He asked, to which I nodded, but that seemed to not be good enough because Fred gripped my hip tightly, "No. I need a yes." He growled, as I let out a shaky breath.
"Yes..." I responded, making him smirk.
"Good girl." He praised, before slamming into me, instantly bottoming out, making me scream out his name, "Fuck, Fred!"
My hands gripped tightly onto the edges of the sink, the boy behind me panted heavily as he began to relentlessly pound into me, "Oh, fuck. So fucking tight, love." He spoke, his words adding to the amount of pleasure I was in.
The sound of our skin slapping together, our heavy breathing and moans filled the small bathroom, if anyone walked passed the door they would have no doubt about what was going on in here. "Feel good, love?" Fred questioned, but I could only moan in response.
Fred growled at this, his hand roughly latched onto my hair, pulling me flush against his chest, speaking lowly in my ear, "Huh? I asked you a question."
"Yes! Yes, feels so- Fuck- So good!" I stuttered out, my eyes rolling in the back of my head. The way he pulled on my hair was intoxicating, it was painful, but the pleasure it gave me completely overpowered it.
His free hand trailed up the front of my shirt, pushing it up over my bra, before pushing that up as well. He squeezed my boob in his hand, lightly pinching my nipple, making me whimper.
"Yeah? You like how I fuck you, don't you? You're taking me so well." He praised, his hips stuttering a bit, so he took his hand away from my boob, pulling out for a moment to grab my thigh and rest it atop the edge of the sink.
After he readjusted me, he pushed my back down again, still keeping his strong grip in my hair, before thrusting back into me. "Yes!" I moaned out, the new angle allowing him to hit my g-spot, and his balls to slap my clit repeatedly.
I knew if he kept up this pace I wasn't gonna last much longer, plus I was still a bit sensitive from him denying me my orgasm before. "Fuck, this pussy is all mine." He groaned, his voice hoarse.
"Yes! Oh, fuck it's yours! All yours!" I said in between moans. I was a mess, beginning to clench tightly around him as I felt myself nearing release.
Fred moaned as he felt me squeezing him, "You close, love? Gonna cum?" He taunted, picking up his pace, which I wasn't sure was even possible.
"Yes! So close." I said, my voice cracking.
"Cum then, cum all over my cock." Fred commanded. It didn't take long after his words for my release to wash over me, my eyes rolled back as I let out a guttural moan, my legs shaking as he continued to pound into me, letting me ride out my high.
I felt Fred twitch inside of me before he spoke, "Shit, shit..." He moaned, swiftly pulling out of me, "On your knees." He demanded, his voice low and authoritative. I instantly complied, moving off the sink and getting on my knees in front of him, "Open your mouth for me, love." He said, prompting me to listen, I opened wide, staring up at him as he jerked off above me.
He groaned at the sight of me below him, throwing his head back, as he hovered his tip over my tongue, "You look so good down there." He said, before letting out a guttural moan, and releasing in my mouth.
I moaned as his cum shot out onto my tongue, the salty taste making me hum in pleasure. "Fuck..." He trailed off, his hand slowing on himself as he milked himself dry.
I closed my mouth, swallowing his seed, making him stare down at me darkly, before harshly pulling me up to my feet. "Such a good girl for me." He praised once more, holding my cheek in his hand before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.
As he pulled away, he gave me a loving look, "Was that okay, love? I didn't go to hard did I?" He asked, making my heart melt. "No, that was... Perfect." I told him, it still baffled me how he could be so rough and dominant and then switch to being so caring and comforting.
He chuckled, "Good." He said, moving away from me to pull his boxers back up and put his pants on. As he did I adjusted my bra and pulled my shirt down, before bending down as well to put my own pants on, but I stopped short when I felt the sudden pain in my legs, making me wobble a bit.
"Woah." Fred spoke, going forward and grabbing my waist to steady me, "You alright?"
"Yeah... My legs just hurt a bit." I told him. Fred smirked at that, making me shoot him a glare, and lightly slap him on the chest. "Shut up."
He rose his hands in mock surrender, "I didn't say anything." I just shook my head at him, trying to bend down again, but he stopped me, "Let me help you."
I watched him as he bent down, slowly pulling up my underwear, then my pants, even buttoning them for me. I gave him a smile as he stood back up, and pecked my lips. "Thanks."
"For what? The sex, or helping you put your clothes back on?" He joked, making me roll my eyes. "Fred." I warned him, making him chuckle. "Okay, okay. I'll stop." He said, as he buckled his belt, while I adjusted my hair, trying to make it look like Fred's hands weren't just gripping and tugging on it a few minutes ago.
"Do you think they'll know?" I asked, making him look at me. He glanced down at my neck, specifically the hickeys that littered every inch of my skin. He stifled his smirk, "Considering the amount of hickeys I left on you... No, they'll have no clue." He said, sarcastically.
I groaned before we both looked at each other, and instantly broke out into laughter. This was definitely not how I thought this day would go when I woke up this morning, but I couldn't complain.
Can you make a smut Weasley twins headcanons please and thanks
ཐི⋆♱⃓⋆ཋྀ George + Fred Weasley nsfw headcanons
a/n: I saw your other ask for Stepdad!Fred too luv !! I love it but i’m taking a short break from reqs to write some of my own stuff. I just gotta try and get some motivation for writing back !
— George
He’s not into degradation, both receiving and giving. He just doesn’t strike me as the type.
He is SO a secret lil pervert 🙈 Like i can imagine you guys just sitting together, maybe you’re studying and he’s just thinking some of the dirtiest shit. During ‘shower’s’ he actually just sits on the toilet jacking off to either porn magazines or photos of you.
He loves vintage porn.
I can see him being into subbing occasionally…
He’s a major tit guy + a sucker for boob and hand jobs.
Sometimes while he lays in beds he imagines fucking whoever he’s crushing on(or at the odd time subbing 😋)
Unlike Fred, who seems like he would be a kinky and adventurous ass bastard(which, he is), He is into some crazy shit. If he tells you about some of the shit he’s into you know he trusts you.
— Fred
He’s into crazy shit, but it’s still kind of tame compared to George, yknow?
He’s literally SO risky too. He loves to fuck in the most taboo places and sometimes forces you to be loud 🙈
He’s into making sex videos and photos. In his wallet he a has a couple photos of you that he keeps tucked away.
I don’t imagine him being into subbing… like at all 😭
Fred’s also more of an ass guy than George, but he loves all of your body(especially in lingerie).
He gets sooo turned on by mutual masturbation and cuckolding. He also really likes bath sex.
Asides from mutual masturbation he doesn’t actually jack off a lot, but he loves the thought of you getting off. He’s definitely watched or listened to you when you didn’t know at least twice.
Summary: It started as teasing touches in the corridor, casual study sessions, and stolen moments in hidden corners. But with George, nothing stays casual. From whispered words in the library to stolen, heated nights in the prefects’ bathroom, every glance, every touch, every gasp pulls them closer — until desire, tension, and confessions finally leave them no choice but to be together.
Content Warnings: Suggestive sexual content / soft smut / friends with benefits / fluff ending / one shot
You were halfway through explaining —Merlin help you— the concept when you realised no one was listening.
Fred was leaning against the wall, clearly elsewhere.
Lee had stopped pretending altogether, nodding absently like that would somehow count as participation.
“And if you reverse the sequence here,” you said, tapping the page with your finger, “the entire outcome changes. It’s actually—”
“Painfully boring,” Fred interrupted, yawning dramatically.
Your shoulders sagged just a little.
You closed the book.
Not loudly. Not to make a point. Just… quietly. Like you were done wasting your breath.
You gathered your things, already turning away, already preparing to leave — knowing they wouldn’t even notice.
Except one of them did.
“Wait.”
George’s voice cut through the corridor, calm but certain.
You froze and looked up.
He was watching you like you were the only thing in the corridor. Elbows resting casually, eyes warm, focused — listening. Really listening.
He tilted his head, lips curving in a soft, knowing smile.
The kind that said:
Don’t look so surprised, love.
I’ve been listening the whole time.
“Keep going,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I like listening to you when you explain things.”
Your heart stuttered.
Heat bloomed under your skin, creeping into your cheeks. You hated how easily he did that — how one sentence from him could make you forget why you’d wanted to leave.
Fred snorted. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not,” George said calmly, not even looking at him. “It’s interesting.”
Lee laughed. “Sure it is.”
George stepped closer. Not obvious. Just enough that you felt the warmth of him at your side. You were suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was — the way his shoulder almost brushed yours, the way his attention never wavered.
When you pointed to the page, his fingers brushed yours.
Not accidental.
Just the lightest touch — knuckles against skin — lingering half a second too long.
Your voice faltered.
He noticed.
Fred groaned loudly. “I can’t do this. Come on, Lee.”
“Finally,” Lee said, already walking away.
Their footsteps faded.
The corridor went quiet.
You closed the book again.
George turned fully toward you now.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said softly.
You shook your head. “I haven’t.”
“You have,” he replied, voice low. “Since the last time.”
His hand lifted, slow, giving you time to pull away.
You didn’t.
His fingers settled at your wrist, thumb resting there like it belonged. Warm. Familiar. Intimate in a way that made your knees soften.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, voice lowered even more. “That night.”
Your chest tightened.
“No,” you said quickly. “Of course not.”
“Then why does it feel like you don’t want to be near me anymore?”He stepped closer.
Close enough that you could feel his breath against your cheek when he spoke. Close enough that the air between you felt heavy, charged.
“I’ve just been busy,” you said. “Studying. Work.”
He hummed softly, unconvinced.
His thumb traced a slow, absent line against your skin — barely moving, barely there — but it sent a shiver straight through you.
“Funny,” he murmured, leaning in so only you could hear, “because you never seem too busy when we’re alone.”
Your heart raced.
“We could meet tonight,” he whispered. “Same place. Just us. Like always.”
Your stomach flipped.
“I don’t know,” you whispered.
His mouth tilted closer to your ear.
“You always say that,” he breathed, voice warm and teasing. “but you never actually say no.”
Before you could answer—
“GEORGE! ARE YOU COMING OR WHAT?!”
Fred’s voice echoed down the corridor.
George pulled back slowly, eyes still on you.
“Later,” he said quietly, like a promise.
Then he turned and walked away.
You stood there alone, heart racing, knees soft, skin still warm where he’d touched you — wondering how something that wasn’t supposed to mean anything had come to mean everything.
You had gone to the library to study.
You’d told yourself you needed it — the silence, the order, the excuse. You sat at one of the long tables, books open in front of you, quill resting uselessly between your fingers.
None of it went in.
Your eyes traced the same line for the fifth time, but all you could feel was him.
The warmth of his body from earlier.
The way his voice had dropped when he spoke only to you.
The way his fingers had lingered at your wrist like they belonged there.
You closed your eyes for just a second.
And suddenly you weren’t in the library anymore.
You remembered him pressed close, skin warm and slightly damp, the faint smell of soap and sweat clinging to him. His hair had been messy. His breath had hitched when you’d whispered his name, the sound of it pulled from him low and helpless, right by your ear.
Your bodies had moved together like they’d done it a hundred times before — familiar, desperate, inevitable.
Your chest tightened.
“Mind if I sit?”
You opened your eyes quickly, heart pounding, as if someone might have seen straight through you.
George’s voice — real this time — pulled you out of it.
You looked up.
He was standing there, hands in his pockets, that same easy, testing smile on his face. Like he already knew exactly where your thoughts had been.
“Sure,” you said, a little too fast.
He slid into the seat beside you, close enough that his knee brushed yours under the table. Not enough to be obvious. Enough to be felt.
“So,” he murmured, glancing at the books spread in front of you. “You weren’t lying. You really are studying.”
His tone was light. His smile wasn’t.
You nodded. “Trying to.”
“What is it?” he asked. “Maybe I can help.”
He leaned in slightly, his arm resting along the back of your chair. His hand hovered near yours — not touching, not yet — like he was giving you the choice.
Your pulse raced.
You pointed at the page, aware of how close his leg was now, how it pressed just enough against yours to make it impossible to focus. His fingers brushed the edge of your hand, warm and slow.
Too much.
You pulled your hand back like you’d been burned.
George noticed.
His smile softened, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.
“You’ve been distant,” he said quietly. “We barely see each other anymore.”
You swallowed. “I told you. I’ve been busy.”
He hummed, unconvinced, his knee still touching yours.
“I miss you,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like it didn’t twist something deep in your chest.
Your breath caught.
“We’re meeting tonight,” he added softly. “You should come.”
You hesitated. “I don’t know if I can—”
He leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper meant only for you.
“They changed the password again,” he said, lips near your ear. “But don’t worry. I’ve got it.”
A pause.
“Honey delight,” he murmured, amused.
Heat flooded you.
“I’ll be waiting,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.
Then he pulled back, standing slowly, like he knew exactly what he’d done.
“See you later,” he said lightly — and walked away.
You stayed where you were, thoughts tangled, the words on the page completely forgotten.
Studying was impossible now.
And evening felt far too close.
Later you sat on the edge of your bed for far too long.
Your room was quiet, dimly lit, the window cracked open just enough to let in the cool night air. You stared at your hands, fingers twisting together, heart beating too fast for someone who was supposed to be deciding something simple.
You could just… not go.
That was an option.
Hide behind books. Behind tiredness. Behind excuses he would pretend to believe.
It hadn’t started like this.
It had been harmless at first — a laugh too close, a touch that lingered half a second longer than it should have. One night, a stolen moment, the prefects’ bathroom chosen simply because it was empty, warm, private.
You still didn’t know who had leaned in first.
After that, it just… kept happening.
Every few weeks. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. Always quiet, always hidden, always without labels. No promises. No conversations. Just heat, familiarity, and the way George always looked at you like you were something he couldn’t quite let go of.
And that was the problem.
Because it was never just sex with him.
He lingered afterward. Touched your cheek like it meant something. Kissed your temple. Murmured things that stayed with you long after you’d gone back to your room alone.
Enough to confuse you.
Never enough to be certain.
You exhaled shakily.
Avoiding him hadn’t helped. If anything, it had made everything worse — the looks, the tension, the way his voice changed when he spoke to you.
Hiding wouldn’t undo what you felt.
And if nothing else… at least you would be close to him tonight.
That thought alone was enough.
You stood, pulling on a jumper, smoothing it down with nervous hands. Then you slipped out into the corridor, moving quietly, heart pounding louder with every step.
The prefects’ bathroom door stood at the end of the hall, just as it always had.
You leaned in and whispered the password.
The lock clicked softly.
The door opened.
George stood there.
Steam curled lazily behind him, warm light spilling out into the corridor. His shirt hung loose, buttons undone, skin flushed like he’d already been waiting too long. His hair was damp — not fully wet, like he’d run his hands through it one too many times, restless.
When he saw you, something in his face shifted.
Relief.
Bare and unguarded.
“You came,” he said softly.
The door closed behind you with a quiet click.
He stepped closer, slow, unhurried, like he wanted you to feel every second of it. His fingers lifted, brushing your jaw, thumb tilting your face up just enough to meet his eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmured. “You’re going to undo me.”
His hand slid down to your shirt.
“Let me.”
Not a question.
A need.
He undid the buttons one by one, knuckles grazing your skin deliberately, like he was memorising you. When the fabric parted, he leaned in, pressing his mouth to your shoulder.
Slow. Warm.
Then another kiss. Lower.
“I’ve missed this,” he whispered against your skin. “Missed you.”
His teeth grazed softly, teasing, before his lips returned — unhurried, worshipful. He pulled back only to look at you.
Really look.
Like he couldn’t believe you were there.
“You’re beautiful,” he said quietly. “Every time, it still hits me.”
Something in you gave way.
You reached for him — hands sliding into his hair, fingers curling, pulling him down — and kissed him first.
Harder. Needier.
He froze for half a heartbeat, surprised — then let out a low sound that went straight through you. His hands tightened at your waist, holding you like he didn’t want space between you to exist.
“Bloody hell,” he breathed against your mouth. “You do that again and I won’t be responsible for myself.”
You smiled faintly and kissed him again.
The bath was already full, steam rising gently. He stepped in first, water lapping at his skin, then held out his hand.
“Come here,” he said softly. “Sit with me.”
You straddled him, warmth everywhere — water, skin, breath. His hands settled on your hips, firm, grounding, thumbs pressing just enough to make your breath hitch.
“Yes,” he murmured. “Just like that.”
His mouth found your neck, your ear, your temple — whispering your name like it was something precious.
“You know you’re mine,” he said quietly. “Right?”
The words sent a shiver through you.
“And I’m yours,” he added, softer. “I’ve been yours longer than I realised.”
You felt him shift beneath you, his hips brushing against yours with slow, deliberate pressure. Each subtle movement sent sparks through your body, thighs pressing against his, chest warm against his.
His hands roamed over your back, over your sides, holding you close but teasing just enough to make you shiver. The friction of his hips against yours was teasing, slow, and every tiny press of his body made your breath hitch.
“You feel… so good,” he murmured, voice low, rough, meant only for you. “Every time I touch you, I swear—”
He trailed off, lips brushing your ear, teeth grazing softly. “Do you know what you do to me?”
Your fingers tangled in his damp curls. “George,” you whispered, breathless.
Time blurred.
There was only him — his voice, his hands, the way he held you like you mattered.
When the water began to cool, neither of you moved.
You lay against his chest now, his arms wrapped around you, thumb tracing slow, absent circles against your skin. The bubbles thinned. The steam faded.
“Can I tell you something?” he asked quietly.
You nodded.
“I don’t want this to be something we hide anymore,” he said. “I don’t want you wondering if you mean something to me.”
You swallowed.
“You do,” he said, firm now. “You mean… everything.”
Silence settled — heavy, but not painful.
You turned your head slightly, meeting his eyes.
“I was scared,” you admitted. “I thought you were fine with it just being… this.”
He shook his head softly.
“I was scared too,” he said. “Didn’t want to ruin it. Didn’t want to lose you.”
His forehead rested against yours.
“So don’t,” you whispered.
A slow smile spread across his face — softer than any you’d seen from him before.
summary: you bitches asked for dom!Fred and you shall receive. a game of truth or dare in the common room goes south when Mclaggen dares you to kiss him
The night had been going splendid so far. Everyone was way too excited after the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrong to go to sleep, and the older Gryffindors decided to get shitfaced as the perfect solution to their restlessness. After all, there was no quidditch this year to justify throwing common room parties, so you guys had to get creative. The new year brought new witches and wizards to corrupt, and so the twins finally let their baby brother Ron and his year join the fun. It been going well, granted Hermione was drunk off her ass, but Harry had been watching over her well enough. You were also past the point of drunk, and you assumed by their faces that the rest of the group were on their way there. At this point in the night, those who were still awake were circled up playing a filthy game of truth or dare. Angelina had gone to do seven minutes in heaven with George, Neville had eaten a puking pastille, and Ron had madeout with Lavender Brown in a disturbing manner. It was time to spin the bottle again to see who would ask the next question. Hermione giggle and leaned into the circle to spin the bottle. Everyone look around with nervous smiles as it spun around and around, before landing on Cormac McLaggen. You cringed. This was possibly the worst person it could've stopped on. Your body had a visceral reaction when your name left his lips.
"Y/N," he smiled drukenly, "Truth or dare?" You rolled your eyes. Oh, great.
"Truth," you said, grabbing your drink and taking a swig. You were going to need it.
"Who did you lose your virginity to?"
You choked on your drink as the rest of the group murmured at the question, Hermione's jaw dropping before a stream of shocked laughs escaped her. You felt Fred tense up beside you. Your mind raced with the memories of this summer at the Burrow.
"Just like that, Y/N. You're doing so good," Fred praised as he thrusted into you, kissing the crook of your neck while he fucked you. He'd been teaching you how kiss, as a friend of course. He had to help out his dear friend Y/N when she confessed how embarrassed she was that she had never kissed anyone. Never done anything with anyone. From there it had escalated. First, you wanted to know learn to give a blowjob, but soon enough Fred thought it'd be best if you knew what these things felt like too. After a while, you both realized you were terribly obsessed with each other, and one night you decided to let him be the one to take your virginity. He was big, and you were nervous, but he was so sweet about it. Even at the beginning when you thought it wouldn't be able to fit, he was reassuring and gentle with you. But that was at the start, and by now he was fully fucking you on your back, your pussy starting the soften around his cock as pleasure began to ripple through your body. You both came together in a heap of sweat and kisses.
"Y/N," McLaggen sung, waiting for your response.
"I'm not answering that," you coughed, still choking on your drink. The group has set up measure to tell if someone was lying, so you couldn't fake still being a virgin. You supposed the question wasn't that out of pocket, but you couldn't answer it. Nobody knew about you and Fred besides George, and you both wanted to keep it that way. Especially from your families.
"Well then, you know the rules," McLaggen tsked teasingly, "you forfeit to dare."
"What? No, I-"
"Those are the rules Y/N," Hermione cringed, unable to stop herself. McLaggen smirked.
"I dare you to kiss me."
You felt nauseous. McLaggen was disgusting, and the last person you'd ever want to kiss. Unfortunately, you'd brought this onto yourself. You should've known he would dare someone to kiss himself. What a weirdo. The circle groaned and laughed in disgust as McLaggen puckered his lips. You cringed and shifted your weight to lean across the circle. Just as you were about to shuffle over to him, Fred grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. You looked back at him and saw anything but a smile on his usually cheerful face. He spun the bottle and landed it on himself in a hasty motion, still holding onto your wrist tightly.
"McLaggen, I dare you to stop wearing your fucking Ballycastle Bats tighty whities to every single quidditch practice," Fred sneered before yanking you up with him and pulling you towards his dorm. You heard the group go crazy with laughter behind you and hoped it would cover for the fact that Fred just pulled you away from the party. Hopefully George could cover for you two, he should be done with seven minutes by now. Fred dragged you up the stairs without so much as a look in your direction. Once you reach his dorm, he threw open the door. What was happening?
"Fred-" he smashed his lips into yours and shut the door with your body. You gasped as your back hit to wooden surface, Fred pulling your skirt up while his hand gripped your thigh. He used your lifted leg as leverage to grind down into your hips as he pressed you against the door. Your pussy pulsed when you felt him against you, his hands gripping in all the right places. Wait a minute. When did he start kissing you again?
"Fred," you said quickly, pulling away from his mouth. He tried to kiss you again. "Fred, we just left the party. You just dragged me up here when I was supposed to kiss-"
"Don't even say his name," Fred growled, his breathing heavy and hot as he kept his face inches from yours.
"I'm sorry," you whispered out, unable to speak properly. You'd never seen Fred mad before.
"I'm sorry I dragged you," he softened, ducking his head down to kiss your neck, "but I wasn't going to let somebody else kiss you." With that, he began to attack your neck. His left hand came up to grip the back of your head as his tongue and teeth lapped at your sweet spot. You let out whimpered moans as he worked, his fingers gripping you just right. Rougher than usual.
"Freddie," you moaned, grinding yourself onto his leg. You needed more. This man had hooked, and you'd never been so addicted in your life. He picked you up under your legs and carried you to the bed before placing you down on your back. He stood over you, leaving you panting on the bed as he took off his shirt and undid his belt. His eyes were locked on yours. You wanted to look away but you couldn't, his gaze wouldn't let you. When he finished, he rushed towards you again, kissing you deeply as his hand flipped your skirt up. His tongued rammed itself into your mouth, stifling your moans when his fingers grazed over your clit. You blushed as his fingers masterfully moved your panties aside and dipped into your core. Fred laughed into the kiss as he felt you.
"Already so wet for me," he breathed huskily, "are you ready to take me?" His words had you aching. You nodded up at him bashfully. You wanted him so badly. You had turned into such a slut for his cock. "Good girl." He sat up and flipped you over, pulling your panties down as he took off his own pants. He didn't bother to take off your skirt as he pulled you back onto him. You let out a guttural moan as you felt his length stretching you out.
"Fuck, Freddie," you whined as he gripped your hips and began to thrust into you. He was going to leave bruises for tomorrow, but you didn't care.
"You're taking it so good, Y/N" Fred groaned, smacking your ass, "you like getting fucked by me? Huh?" He picked up his pace, pounding into you hard. Your moans were bouncing with the rhythm of his thrusts as he waited for your reply.
"Y-yes, Freddie. I love when you fuck me," you whined, feeling you pussy begin to clench around him. His dick twitched at the feeling and groaned. In one motion, he pulled out and spun you onto your back, pulling your shirt up over your tits and pinning your wrists above your head.
"God, you look so fucking pretty. Can't see your beautiful face while I'm behind you," Fred grunted as he thrust back into you. You moaned and threw you head back. You writhed underneath Fred, his hand constraining your wrists. You desperately needed to grasps something. You were reaching the edge.
"Freddie," you cried, unable to say anything except his name. Your eyes clenched shut as you felt your stomach knot up one final time.
"That's it, baby. Come for me." You could feel his eyes on you as you released yourself around his throbbing cock. As the waves of pleasure began to slow, Fred grunted and became sloppy. He released your hands and buried his face into your neck as he came, pushing himself as deep as he could inside of you. He laid there for a moment before pushing himself off you and pulling you onto his chest. You couldn't help but giggle a little as he kissed your head and rubbed your shoulder.
"You are so jealous," you teased, looking up to see Fred. He laughed with a sleepy half smiled.
"I'm not jealous," he retorted, pinching your cheek. "I'm just protecting whats mine."
Summary: You’re hired at the Weasley’s shop and just can’t get George off your mind. After some yearning, and a little meddling by Fred, you and George are finally forced to face the tension❤️🔥
What to Expect: (18+ Explicit Smut, potion-induced dream, workplace romance, boss/employee dynamic, no use of y/n, once again for the folks in the back, MDNI 18+)
Word Count: 6.4k
Enjoy ;)
Chapter 1 - You
“You’re hired!” My new bosses exclaimed in unison.
“Wow! That’s great, thank you!” I shook my head trying to gather my wits. Sure, it was only a part-time retail job. But being new to the area, I needed work. Plus, the job would be a great way to make friends.
“Come on, we’ll give you the tour,” George announced as he and Fred quickly rose from their wooden chairs with harmonizing creaks. Fred walked to the door, holding it open for George and me to follow.
As I stood, my sweater felt suddenly heavy in the stuffy office. If the heat up here was any indication, the packed store would be sweltering. In an effort to not be a sweaty mess, I slipped the fabric off my shoulders and draped it over the back of the chair. Something in the air changed in that moment, a shift in the atmosphere. George’s easy grin faltered as he froze and gawked. A sudden, sharp flutter of heat rushed through me from the intensity of his gaze. The kind that starts low and spreads fast…
He is your boss! My final shreds of rationality snapped me back to reality. “Do you mind if I leave my things here while we walk around?” I asked, my voice a little breathier than intended.
The question seemed to snap them out of whatever dimension they had slipped into. Fred cleared his throat, a smirk slowly returning to his face. “Not at all. They’ll be safe here,” he promised, his eyes lingering just a second too long at the white tank top that clung to my body. “Right this way.”
I followed them as we wove through displays and customers. The store was packed—both with people and product. The volume was overwhelming, but the place was alive with the sound of laughter and carefree conversation.
We finally circled back toward the staircase and returned to the office. "So," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "When do you want me to start?"
"Bright and early tomorrow morning," George said, flashing his captivating smile.
"Not too early. We’re not monsters," Fred added with a chuckle. “We’ll see you at nine.”
“Perfect. Thanks again!” I grabbed my purse and waved goodbye. Excitement thrummed in my chest as I walked down the staircase and out of the store. This was going to be an adventure for sure.
Chapter 2 - George
The office door had barely clicked shut behind her before Fred let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for the last ten minutes. "Well," he said with a wicked glint in his eye that made my teeth clench. "I think that went rather well.”
I didn't answer immediately, still staring at the door. I was still trying to understand how she managed to stop time and space just by taking off her sweater. We must have looked like bloody fools gawking at her like that.
"She’s a keeper," I finally managed, trying to reclaim my composure.
"Oh, she’s definitely something," Fred chuckled. He went to reach for a stack of order forms on the desk, but his hand paused and nodded toward the chair she’d just vacated. "Looks like she forgot something."
There it was. The sweater. It was draped over the back of the chair, looking soft and innocent, yet it felt like a challenge.
"Oh- I’ll take it to her." I snatched the fabric up before Fred could even process the movement.
Fred looked at me, one eyebrow practically disappearing into his hairline. "She’s probably halfway to the Leaky Cauldron by now. Just give it to her tomorrow."
"It’s a nice sweater, Fred. What if someone walks off with it? Or she gets... a sudden chill?" I didn’t bother waiting for Fred to point out how ridiculous that sounded. I was already out the door and taking the stairs two at a time.
Bursting out of the shop, my feet hit the cobblestones and sprinted. Diagon Alley was a sea of cloaks and pointed hats, and I wove through them like a mad man. Halfway past Quality Quidditch Supplies, a sudden, sobering thought hit. Here I was, a grown man in a tailored, three-piece suit, sprinting through a crowd like a maniac.
I look like a psychopath, I thought, my pace slowing to a halt. Or a very over-eager debt collector at the very least. Scanning the crowd, she was nowhere to be seen. I nearly turned back, but then I saw her.
She was walking away, her pace relaxed and easy. In the midday sun, her hair seemed to catch every ray of light, glowing with a soft radiance. And the way she moved—the gentle, rhythmic sway of her hips that made my mouth go dry. I stood there for a heartbeat too long, just watching, before realizing standing in the street staring may be worse than chasing her down.
"Hey! Wait up!" I called out, my voice cracking like a teenager. I cleared my throat and walked toward her. She turned, looking surprised, and I jogged the final distance to meet her. I was definitely sweating now; the heavy suit was a mistake, and the nerves weren't helping.
"You left this," I panted, holding out the crumpled cardigan. I realized, with a surge of embarrassment, that my palm was sweaty, and I’d been gripping the fabric so tightly it was now a wrinkled mess in my hand. "Didn't want you to... catch a cold. Or something."
Oh—thank you, Mr. Weasley,” she said with a small smile playing on her lips as she reached out.
As she took the sweater, her fingers brushed against mine. A jolt of raw electricity rushed through me, making my stomach do a slow, heavy roll. Looking deep in her eyes, I saw a flash of the exact same heat. She felt it, too.
I felt a hot blush creeping up my neck. "Right. Well. See you tomorrow," I blurted out. I didn't even wait for her to say anything else before I turned on my heel and began the long walk of shame back toward the store.I finally worked up the nerve to turn back for one last look and called out, “Oh, and just call me George!”
When I finally made it back, the shop was as chaotic as ever. Fred was behind the counter, ringing up a group of customers, but he kept a sharp eye on me as I walked in.
"Mission accomplished, eh?" Fred asked, his voice dripping with mockery.
"Yeah. Caught her," I said casually, trying to sound bored.
"You look a bit flushed, Georgie. Did the run get to you? Or was it the sudden chill you were so worried about?"
"Drop it, Fred."
I knew it probably wasn't the best idea to be pining after our new employee. It was unprofessional, potentially messy, and Fred would never let me hear the end of it. But I couldn't shake the feeling of that spark, or the way she looked back at me like she felt it too. I tried my best to get back to work, but my thoughts kept turning back to the witch who looked far too angelic to be causing this much trouble in my head.
Chapter 3 - You
The morning breeze was crisp, raising goosebumps on my legs. The streets were calm at this hour, giving me a better view of the shops opening their doors for the day. Smoothing my skirt for the tenth time, I arrived at the vibrant storefront.
You’ve got this, I told myself, taking a steadying breath. Stand up straight, take a deep breath, and definitely don't think about the way my boss looked at me yesterday.
I reached for the door handle, but before my fingers could even graze the brass, the door swung inward with a cheerful chime.
George was standing there, practically radiating energy. He looked like he’d been waiting behind the glass for the exact moment my shadow hit the pavement. "Good morning!" he chirped, his voice a tad loud for the early hour.
"Morning, George," I said, my heart doing a treacherous little hop.
"Punctual. We love that," Fred’s voice called out from behind the counter. He was already busy sorting a crate of Extendable Ears, a mischievous glint in his eye. "George here has been checking his watch every two minutes it seems."
"I was checking the inventory. Don't listen to him," George shot back, though he didn't move from the doorway, holding it open for me with a theatrical bow. As I passed him, my first day jitters faded away. Yesterday, I wasn’t sure if I belonged, but today, the shop felt... like home. The vibrant displays were eye-catching. From nosebleed nougat and fainting fancies to pygmy puffs and love potions… the chaos felt like a curated kind of heaven.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
My first week at Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes passed in a blur of colorful boxes, curious customers, and Fred’s increasingly elaborate product demonstrations. By the end of the week, I had learned three important things: never open a box labeled experimental, always keep a bezoar nearby, and George Weasley had an alarming habit of appearing whenever I reached for something on a high shelf.
I was finally starting to feel confident around the shop displays. Which, of course, was the exact moment everything went wrong.
"Alright, Newby. We’ve got potions that need restocking. Ever handled a Love Potion?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head.
“Well, be careful,” Fred grinned. “We don’t need a lovestruck fool wandering around the shop with googly eyes. Very bad for business.”
I glanced up. George, who had been leaning casually against the counter, suddenly found the register fascinating.
His ears had gone a brilliant shade of red. “Oh, shut it,” he muttered under his breath.
Fred only looked more pleased with himself.
A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth as I reached for the next bottle. By the time I stocked the final potion, George had migrated to a nearby display of trick wands and prank supplies. He was supposedly testing them, but every time I glanced over, he wasn't looking at the product. He was looking at me.
Whenever our eyes met, he’d immediately jerk his gaze away, suddenly becoming intensely interested in the instructions on a box or whistling a tune that was comically off-key.
I reached for a bottle of liquid dream, my hand trembling just enough to make the glass clink against the shelf. I looked up, catching George mid-stare again. This time, he didn't look away fast enough. He offered a small, shy lopsided grin that made my mind go completely blank.
Smiling back, I felt the immediate rush of blood to my cheeks, making me undoubtedly redder than my boss’ hair, and quickly looked down to shield my grin that wasn’t going away. Get it together, girl. Letting out a shaky exhale, I stocked another vial of the shimmering purple potion.
“How’s it going over here?” Fred’s voice appeared suddenly from behind.
“Merlin!” My elbow knocked the edge of the display as I turned toward him, bottles rattling violently, sending one tumbling over the edge. The vial shattered against the wooden floor with a sharp crack, spilling hazy purple liquid across the wooden floor.
“I’m so sorry!” I dropped into a squat, quickly grabbing the larger pieces of glass before a customer could step on them. The vial had split neatly in two, and I carefully picked up one half, trying not to let the remaining drops run through my fingers.
Before I could stand, another pair of shoes appeared beside me.
George.
“It’s alright,” he said quickly, extending his arm toward me. “Really.”
I took it, letting him help pull me back to my feet. His grip was warm and steady, and for a brief second I forgot entirely about the mess at my feet.
Fred leaned over to inspect the spill, already pulling his wand from his pocket. “Happens all the time,” he said casually, uttering a quick cleaning spell that wiped the mess from the floor.
“I swear I’m not usually this clumsy,” I said, mortified.
George took the broken vial from my other hand, then his expression changed.
“Wait.” His fingers closed lightly around my wrist, turning it to examine my palm. “You cut yourself.”
I blinked, only now noticing the sting and a thin stream of blood mixed with remnants of the spilled potion.
“We should clean that,” he said. “Come with me.”
“Oh, you really don’t have to—”
“I insist.” Something about the gentle way he said it made it impossible to argue.
Fred waved us off with his wand. “Go on,” he said. “I’ve got the shop.”
George guided me toward the staircase, his hand hovering over my lower back as we climbed. My heart was beating much faster than a tiny cut should have warranted.
The office was much quieter than the shop below. George closed the door behind us before moving toward the desk, pulling open a small drawer.
“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing toward the chair.
Once I was seated, he dragged a heavy wooden chair from the corner. The legs scraped against the floor as he spun it around in one fluid motion. Sinking onto it backwards, his long legs straddled the seat, his chest pressing against the chair's back as he leaned toward me. The proximity was sudden and dizzying.
"Here," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as he reached out. His fingers were firm but cautious as they guided the back of my hand to rest on the smooth, polished wood of the chair’s back. His thumb anchored my wrist in place as he leaned in to examine the cut.
His brow was slightly furrowed in concentration. I was focused on the way the sunlight caught the bridge of his nose and smatter of freckles I hadn’t noticed before.
“I’m sorry,” I said again softly.
George glanced up at me, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t be,” he said, his brown eyes wide as he looked into mine. “Does it hurt?”
“Not too bad,” I said, my voice raspier than usual.
He grabbed a clean cloth and dabbed carefully at the cut, wiping away the thin line of blood.
“There we go,” he murmured, pulling out his wand and muttering a quiet spell. A faint warmth spread across my palm, like sunlight soaking into my skin. When he lifted the cloth away, the cut had vanished completely.
“Good as new.” George chuckled softly, still holding my hand.
Neither of us seemed to notice at first. Or at least neither of us made any move to let go.
His fingers were warm around mine, his thumb resting lightly against my wrist where the cut had been. The room felt quiet compared to the chaos downstairs, like the rest of the world had faded away.
George’s eyes lifted from my palm to my face. For a moment neither of us said anything. My pulse fluttered nervously under his touch. This is probably the part where you let go of his hand. But I didn’t.
Instead, I found myself staring at the faint dusting of freckles across his nose, noticing how close we were sitting. Close enough that I could see the tiny crinkle at the corner of his eyes when he smiled.
George tilted his head slightly, his voice softer now. “You’re mesmerizing, you know.”
My breath caught. “What?”
George blinked like he’d only just realized what had come out of his mouth. Mortified, blood rushed to his face.
“I— that’s not— I mean—” He stammered, dropping my hand like hot coal. “I meant— not that you’re— well, obviously you are, but— Merlin.”
He stood abruptly, running a hand through his hair before turning toward the door. “I’ll… I’ll be downstairs.”
Before I could think of anything resembling a response, George had already slipped out of the office and disappeared down the spiral staircase. I sat there for a moment longer, staring at the place where he’d been standing.
Mesmerizing? My cheeks burned as I forced myself to stand and follow him downstairs.
The rest of the day passed in a blur.
Between curious customers, exploding trick wands, and Fred giving a particularly dramatic demonstration of nosebleed nougats to a group of giggling students, the shop never stayed quiet for more than a few seconds.
Every now and then, though, I’d catch George glancing at me from across the shop. Each time our eyes met, we both looked away like we’d been caught doing something illegal.
By the time the evening crowd thinned and the shop lights dimmed, my feet ached and my brain was buzzing.
Fred flipped the sign on the door with a flourish. “Closed!”
“Finally,” I muttered under my breath while grabbing my bag from behind the counter.
George leaned against a display near the door, watching me with that same soft smile that had been undoing me all day. “I guess I’ll be off.”
Fred suddenly snapped his fingers. “Oh! One more thing.”
I halted as Fred twirled his wand between his fingers. “You’re lucky, you know.”
“…Lucky?”
“The potion earlier,” he said, nodding toward my hand. “If that had been Love Potion instead of Liquid Dream, you might’ve had a rather… dramatic afternoon.”
My eyes widened slightly. “Oh. Right.”
Fred’s grin grew wider. “But don’t worry,” he added cheerfully. “Worst side effect from just a drop is a vivid dream– and they're rarely nightmares.” He glanced between George and me, the corners of his mouth twitching.
“Fred,” George glared at his brother, having some sort of telepathic argument over my head.
“Well, goodnight,” I blurted out, fleeing the building.
By the time I finally collapsed into bed that night, my mind was still replaying the sound of George’s voice in that quiet office.
You’re mesmerizing.
Sleep came quickly after that.
Chapter 4 - You
Opening my eyes, I stretched my arms and looked around. I was everywhere and nowhere, enveloped in a puffy white cloud surrounded by a golden sky.
I wasn’t wearing any clothes, I didn’t need them. My body sank into the soft cloud, conforming perfectly to each of my curves. The air was warm and weightless, like floating in sunlight.
Caressing my skin, my hands glided closer to the sensitive skin of my upper thighs. I closed my eyes and let my head rest against the cloud, reveling in the sensation of my own touch.
A quiet ache began to stir within, conjuring visions of the one person responsible for it.
Flashes of copper hair. Freckled skin. The scent of honeyed amber and cedar surrounded me, encompassing me in an intoxicating embrace. Lazily fluttering my heavy eyelids, I was no longer naked amongst the clouds– and I was no longer alone.
I was back in George’s office, seated inches away from his familiar warmth. My hand rested in his as he stroked lazy circles on my wrist. We were completely alone, bathed in soft incandescent light that perfectly highlighted George’s fiery hair. We were seated close together, our knees just barely grazing. I dipped my head, avoiding his stare.
George’s fingers tightened slightly around mine. I was sure he could feel the frantic pulse of my veins. “Look at me.”
I swallowed, forcing myself to hold his gaze. He leaned closer. The space between us shrank until I could only see him. “This isn’t a good idea,” I whispered.
“This?”
“Being so… close,” I said softly.
George studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then the corner of his mouth curved slightly.
“Then move,” he challenged.
My breath caught. “I–”
“Don’t want to?” He purred, his thumb brushing gently against my wrist again.
My heart skipped. He leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching mine.
“No.” My pulse thundered.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he murmured.
The words made my chest tighten. I sighed softly. “George…” His name tasted more natural on my tongue each time.
His hand slid up the back of my neck, making my skin tingle. His fingers threaded gently into my hair. We were closer than ever, and I didn’t want that to change. Then he pulled me in.
The kiss was sudden and deep, warm and dizzying, like two stars colliding in an exquisite crash, illuminating the night sky. His grip on my hair tightened as he pulled me closer, making me groan into his mouth. Our tongues intertwined as we dissolved into bliss.
The dream began to shatter as light flooded the room. With a final moan of George’s name, I woke up feeling breathless.
Chapter 5 - Fred
“Alright,” I said, flipping the sign on the door to close shop for the evening. “What’s going on?”
George looked up from the register like he’d just been accused of a crime.
“Don’t give me that look,” I wagged my finger at my brother. “I spent the entire day watching the two of you avoid eye contact like two teenagers afraid to ask the other to the yule ball. So tell me. What is going on?”
Letting out a guilty sigh, George propped his elbows on the shop counter. He couldn’t hide from me and he knew it.
“I can’t get her out of my head,” he painstakingly admitted under his breath. “I don’t know what to do.”
“So ask her out,” I said immediately.
George looked at me like I’d just suggested he jump off the Astronomy Tower. “Fred—”
“What?” I shrugged. “You fancy her. She clearly fancies you. What’s the problem?”
George ran a hand through his hair, clearly irritated. “I can’t date my new employee. It would be… it would be unethical!”
I stood on the other side of the counter, watching him flounder with amusement. “Oh please. Don’t be so serious, Georgie.”
He shot me a look. “She’s our employee,” he said. “If I make a move and she’s not interested, it makes things awkward. If it goes badly, we still have to work together. And if she thinks I hired her just to flirt with her—” He stopped, grimacing.
I tilted my head, “you’re overthinking this.”
“I’m being responsible.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
George huffed a quiet laugh despite himself, but the tension didn’t leave his shoulders. “I mean it, Fred,” he said more seriously. “What if she feels pressured? I don’t want her thinking she has to be nice to me because I’m her boss.”
I studied him for a moment. Leave it to George to turn a perfectly good crush into an ethical crisis.
“Well,” I said slowly, “good news. She definitely likes you.”
George blinked. “No she doesn’t.”
“Oh, she absolutely does.”
He scoffed and shook his head, already dismissing it. “You’re just winding me up.”
“George,” I said impatiently, “I watched her drop a box this afternoon because you walked past her.”
“That could’ve been anything.”
“She nearly knocked over the Extendable Ears display when you said her name.”
“She’s new.”
“And she went bright red when you helped her reach that box on the top shelf.”
George rubbed his temples. “Maybe we hired a clumsy, shy girl.”
I grinned. “You poor, oblivious git. You really don’t see it?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed himself off the counter and grabbed the till drawer. “I’m done talking to you,” he muttered. “I’m counting the register.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll drop it,” I said, waving him off as he walked up the spiral stairs to our office.
I leaned back against the counter, folding my arms as I watched him go. Poor bloke. He was completely bonkers for her and didn’t even realize she had it just as bad.
A slow smile spread across my face.
Well, I thought to myself. If George wasn’t going to do anything about it…
I supposed I’d have to help. And fortunately, our shop was full of products designed to create the perfect amount of chaos.
Chapter 6 - You
A few days later the shop was unusually quiet. The dreary weather kept most customers at home, leaving the three of us to tidy up an already clean shop most of the day.
The hours stretched on until the clock finally struck seven. Fred stood behind the counter closing the register when I walked around to gather my belongings.
“Hold on,” Fred said, grabbing my attention. “Mind helping with one more thing?”
Stifling a sigh, I sat my purse down and agreed. I was ready to go home, but there was no harm in helping with one more task.
“Perfect. There’s some boxes upstairs that were left out of our inventory count.” He looked over at George, getting his attention as well. “I thought if the two of you split the counting, we could get out of here sooner.”
George walked over, his expression full of contempt for his twin. “There’s no need for that, Fred,” he glared. “I can handle it.”
“No, I’d like our new hire to help,” his eyes widened, trying to communicate something to his brother. “It’ll be a learning experience, won’t it Georgie?”
“Sure,” George begrudgingly replied. “Lead the way.”
I followed the well-dressed men up the spiral stairs to the office. Fred paused at the doorway, ushering us into the lamplit room. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Fred added quickly as he shut the door, leaving us shocked at his abrupt exit.
Looking around the room, there were no boxes in sight. “George… what’s going on?” I spun around, waiting for his answer as he yanked on the door handle to no avail. “Use your wand,” I suggested.
“Right.” He pointed the tip of his wand at the door, and said, “Alohamora.” His voice was clear and commanding, but the door didn’t budge.
He tried again. And again.
He turned to face me, clearly embarrassed and confused at the situation. “Right, well.” He cleared his throat, “Uh, it seems we’re stuck.”
“Yeah. I can see that.” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from spilling out of my mouth as I awaited his solution. “Well?”
“I’ll call out for Fred, he’ll let us out.” He turned and raised his hand to knock on the door and yell for his brother.
“Fred!” He banged loudly on the wooden door. That’s when it clicked. “Do you really think he’s going to let us out? Who do you think locked us in?”
Realization hit his face, shortly followed by anger. “I’m so sorry. Merlin–,” he ran his fingers through his hair, nearly pulling it out with a punishing tug. “I’ll get us out, I promise.”
I centered myself, noticing how upset George was becoming. I wanted to comfort him. Walking closer to him with my hands clasped loosely behind my back, I decided to be the one to comfort him.
“I know you will.” My hand reached out to graze his brown wool sleeve, grabbing his attention immediately. He softened, his shoulders relaxing a fraction. “It’s really not a big deal, I don’t have anywhere to be,” I said casually, coaxing him into comfort.
“That can’t be right,” he looked at me in disbelief. “A pretty girl like you with no plans?”
I laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet room. “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Weasley?”
George froze, looking more frazzled than ever. “I— what? No— I mean. I was simply making an observation.”
“Mm,” the corner of my mouth curled slightly as I took him in.
For the first time since we’d been trapped in the room, I really looked at him.
George stood before me, tall and slightly disheveled from a long day at the shop. His red hair was slightly tousled where he’d run his hands through it moments earlier. The lamplight caught the freckles dusting the bridge of his nose, and the sleeves of his wool coat were rolled just enough to reveal the strong lines of his forearms.
Snapping myself out of my wandering thoughts, I turned to sit on the sofa against the far wall. The cushions were worn, but comfortable as I settled in. “And what about you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah,” I kicked my shoes off and curled my legs onto the sofa. I figured I may as well get comfortable if we’re going to be stuck. “Do you have anyone to go home to?” My own boldness shocked me, but after my dream last night, I shouldn’t be too surprised. Nevertheless, I maintained my composure while looking directly into the eyes of my dream man.
“No,” He took a few steps closer, shrinking the gap between us. “There’s no one,” he rasped.
His words set heavy in the air around us, the weight of his gaze only adding to the intensity.
For a moment neither of us spoke. The quiet room suddenly felt very small.
I tilted my head slightly, studying him again. “Really?”
George gave a short, humorless laugh. “Really.”
His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit I’d already begun to recognize. “I’ve been rather preoccupied lately,” he admitted.
My pulse skipped. “With work?”
His eyes lifted to mine. “Not exactly.”
The way he looked at me made my stomach flip. “Oh.”
George took another step closer, slow and hesitant, as if he wasn’t entirely sure he was allowed.
“You probably think I sound crazy,” he said quietly. “But ever since you walked into the shop, I haven’t been able to think about much else.”
The confession made warmth spread through my chest. “That’s funny,” I said, trying and failing to sound casual.
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’ve been having the exact same problem.”
George’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Really?”
“Really.” My mouth went dry with my breathy admission. Chewing the life out of my lower lip, I averted my gaze to the floorboards.
“Look at me.” The gentle command hung in the air around us.
The words sent a strange shiver down my spine. I had heard them before—spoken in that same quiet voice, in that same room.
My eyes slowly lifted from the floorboards to meet his as he closed the gap between us, joining me on the sofa.
George was watching me carefully now, like he was trying to read every thought behind my expression. The moment our eyes locked, something in his face softened. The air between us felt suddenly warmer.
“I meant it, you know.”
My brow furrowed slightly. “Meant what?”
His mouth twitched, clearly debating whether he should say it again. Then he shook his head with a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. “What I said earlier. In the office.”
My pulse stumbled.
“You’re mesmerizing.”
Hearing the word again sent heat rushing to my cheeks.
George looked down for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck again. “I’ve never been particularly shy around women,” he admitted. “Usually I can flirt my way through just about anything.”
The corner of my mouth curved. “I can believe that.”
“But you…” He looked back up at me, something softer in his expression now. “You make me forget every clever thing I’ve ever said.”
My stomach flipped. For a moment neither of us spoke again.
George’s gaze drifted briefly to my mouth before returning to my eyes. My breath caught.
“I’ve tried to behave,” he continued, his voice low. “You work for us. I didn’t want you thinking I hired you just so I could—”
“Flirt with me?” I offered.
“Exactly,” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair.
I tilted my head slightly, feeling emboldened from the heat igniting my core. “But you want to?”
George chuckled and leaned closer. “Oh, I want to do much more than that.”
My breath caught as the space between us disappeared.
His voice softened again, barely louder than a whisper. “But we’ll start with this.”
Then he closed the remaining distance between us. The kiss was slow at first, tentative, like we were both testing whether it was really happening. But then, every bit of tension that had been building for weeks seemed to snap at once.
His hand came up gently to cradle the side of my face as he kissed deeper, wrapping me up in his intoxicating scent. It was even better in reality, but I yearned for more. Blindly reaching out, I let out a small whimper when making contact with his muscular thighs.
Taking the opportunity, George slipped his tongue into my mouth, exploring as he threaded his fingers through my hair.
Adjusting his seat, George knelt on the cushion, both hands grasping my face. The kiss somehow intensified more as he pressed further into me. When he released his grasp and broke the kiss, I panted, looking up at the man towering above me.
“That’s it?” I asked between breaths, still dizzy from the kiss.
“Not even close,” he growled as raised me to my knees and captured my lips in another profound, explosive embrace. I found my hands exploring his torso, the wool of his suit warming my hands as I slid them under the collar. Slowly pushing the fabric back and down his arms, his jacket fell to the cushion. Now I could feel the muscles in his arms as we continued to entwine tongues. He was toned, and his forearms flexed as I lazily stroked them.
“You’re,” he breathed out between kisses, “a dream.”
I melted into him, reveling in his taste. Giving an experimental nip to his lower lip I felt him smile against me. He was making me ravenous, desperate for more of him.
Breaking our fevered moment, I whispered, “I dreamt of you.”
His expression changed instantly. “Yeah?” The corners of his mouth twitched as he watched me.
“I didn’t want it to end,” I confessed. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he sat back on the cushion, grasping my hips with his strong hands, and pulled me onto his lap. Straddling his thighs, my skirt rose to my hips, exposing my skin. George grabbed my butt, squeezing and kneading the skin with a groan.
“I need to feel you.” He sounded almost pained as he planted kisses along the side of my neck.
I tilted my head and whispered softly in his ear, “don’t hold back, Mr. Weasley.”
The fire in his eyes bubbled over as he ravished my mouth in a kiss so severe it was sure to leave my lips swollen. I felt him shift below, the fabric of his pants creating friction against my dampening panties. With a slow rock of my hips, we both sighed. This no longer felt scary or wrong. This was right. We were right.
He hardened below, making me squirm. George reached for his jacket and pulled out his wand. With a low murmur, he uttered a spell leaving us both bare. His skin was softer than I imagined, covering tight corded muscles. He looked like he saw an angel, tilting his head with his mouth agape.
“Merlin–,” he didn’t bother finishing as he captured my breasts in his hands and kissed my shoulders. His fingers found my nipples, pinching them, eliciting a small whimper from the back of my throat.
“Is this what you dreamed of?”
“Mmm,” I tipped my head back as one of his hands traveled down my stomach. “Even better.”
Rolling my hips back to allow easier access, his deft fingers found my slick entrance, making me gasp. As he found his rhythm, I found mine. Rutting against his veined cock, he used two fingers to apply beautiful pressure on my clitoris and moved them in slow circles.
His touch was divine. Closing my eyes I felt like I was floating adrift in an ocean of him. The two fingers surprised me as they prodded their way inside. I squeezed his fingers as my body shuddered with a white hot chill.
“George…” I didn’t know what I wanted, but I knew I needed him.
“I know darling,” he assured, withdrawing his fingers and grasping my hips. “I’m here.”
Hoisting my hips in the air, he lined himself up and gently lowered me onto him. He was unbelievably hard, and already damp from my earlier gyrations. He speared into me as he held his breath, only releasing his tension when fully sheathed inside.
We groaned in unison as the edges of the room began to blur. He guided my hips, moving at a relaxed pace. The room filled with the sound of breathless sighs as I began to bounce slowly, up and down his impressive length.
Throwing my head back, I felt my walls flutter around him. Clutching my hips, George began to thrust upward, meeting my quickened pace. Our movements grew more frantic. Touching his forehead to mine, I breathed his name like a prayer.
He answered the call by tilting his hips and driving into me. Each thrust was exquisite, annihilating each thought in my mind. My hands found sanctuary on his shoulders, gripping the freckled skin with everything I had. He winced as my nails started to dig, but when I loosened my grip, he paused his movements and looked fiercely into my eyes, saying, “don’t stop.”
His conviction made me quiver. I kept one hand gripping his shoulders as he plunged into me again, somehow deeper than before. My other hand snaked up his neck, threading my fingers through his messy hair, earning a low groan from George.
Our bodies matched each other’s merciless pace, each movement more urgent than the one before. “Please,” I begged, as his thumb found my throbbing clitoris. Rubbing at a glorious speed, I neared my climax.
“That’s it. Fall apart for me, darling,” he crooned in my ear. I couldn’t grind my hips hard enough. I bucked and whined as I chased my release. His thumb pressed harder, sending me over the edge. My toes curled as my whole body crumbled around him.
George’s grunts grew as erratic as his thrusts. He pulled my body closer to him, wrapping his arms around me as he collided into me with broken desperation. His hips twitched as he reached his peak, moaning loudly in my ear.
Giving a final, slow pump, our bodies stilled. The room was filled with the sound of our ragged breaths as we settled into the sofa, holding each other in a warm, shaky embrace.
After a moment of silence, George loosened his grip on me, using one hand to move the strands of hair from my face. “You’re real, right?” he murmured.
I nodded softly. George smiled, brushing his thumb across my cheek.
“Good,” he whispered. “Because I was starting to worry someone had slipped me one of those dream potions.”
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it ;)
Also, my next fic is Draco x Reader. I have it mostly planned out, and hope to start writing soon!
Be on the lookout for that lol, and follow for more!
!George Weasley deserves the world. You accidentally give his twin a kiss instead.
You had been tending to George and his injured ear.
Your fingers were careful, almost reverent, as you cleaned around the bandaging. He tried to act like it didn’t bother him. Like losing an ear was just another story to laugh about later.
You admired him.
How could one person be so selfless? Putting himself in danger without hesitation. Throwing himself into chaos to save Harry Potter like it was nothing.
But it wasn’t nothing.
You saw the way he winced when he thought you weren’t looking. The way his jaw tightened. The way he still cracked jokes so no one would pity him.
It made your chest ache.
Fast forward to now — you were in the Burrow, in his and Fred’s room, bouncing up and down on his cock.
The contrast made you dizzy.
From bandages and careful hands to this.
George’s hands were firm on your hips, guiding you, steadying you. His good ear flushed red from the strain of holding back the sounds he wanted to make.
You were close to losing control — breathing too loud, moving too fast.
He stuck his finger in your mouth for you to suck, a silent command to keep quiet.
His lips brushed your collarbone as he murmured, low and teasing, “Mum’s just downstairs, love.”
You rolled your hips just to spite him.
He hissed under his breath, gripping your waist tighter. “You’re trying to get me killed.”
“You’d look handsome in a coffin,” you whispered back.
He laughed — breathless, messy, George.
The next morning felt almost cruel in how normal it was.
You woke tangled in his sheets, his arm heavy over your waist, his breath warm against your shoulder. The sunlight through the crooked Burrow windows made everything feel softer than it had any right to be.
He kissed your temple before you slipped out of bed.
“Tell Mum I’m coming,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.
You grinned. “You always are.”
He groaned and threw a pillow at you.
The kitchen was chaos in the way only the Weasleys could manage.
Molly was already cooking. Arthur was reading something upside down. Ginny was arguing with Ron about toast. Harry was pretending not to be involved.
It was loud. Warm. Perfect.
You slid into your seat beside who you assumed was George — hoodie up, head down, quiet for once.
You leaned over and pressed a quick, affectionate kiss to his cheek.
“Morning, you menace.”
The kitchen went silent.
Not loud silent.
Heavy silent.
Your stomach dropped.
The hoodie slowly lowered.
Fred blinked at you.
Smirking.
“Blimey,” he said lazily. “Buy me breakfast first.”
Your entire body went rigid.
Then, across the table—
George froze.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
Just still.
You whipped around so fast your chair screeched against the floor. “I— I thought—”
Fred was grinning like Christmas had come early. “Easy mistake, darling. We are devastatingly identical.”
George stood.
Not angry.
Just… stiff.
“I’ll be outside,” he muttered.
And that hurt more than if he’d yelled.
You found him in the yard, hands in his pockets, staring at the crooked fence like it had personally offended him.
“George.”
He didn’t turn around.
“I didn’t mean to,” you rushed. “I swear. He had the hood up, and I just— I wasn’t thinking—”
He let out a quiet breath.
Still not looking at you.
“I know.”
You blinked. “You… know?”
Finally, he turned.
There was something vulnerable there for half a second.
Then it was gone.
“We’ve been switching on people since we were five,” he said with a small huff of laughter. “Mum still mixes us up sometimes.”
You stepped closer. “But you looked hurt.”
He tilted his head slightly. “I was.”
Your heart dropped.
Then he shrugged.
“Only for a second.”
You swallowed. “George—”
He stepped forward and pulled you into him.
“Accidents happen,” he murmured into your hair.
You wrapped your arms around him immediately. “I would never—”
“I know,” he said softly.
Then he leaned back just enough to look at you, mischief creeping back into his expression.
“But I’m still telling Fred you owe him a kiss now.”
