#and george praising him in his own way like Yeah :( you say what a mind this happens all the time :( 🌟 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

singsweetmelodies · 1 year

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sorry if it's too much but I NEED to know your opinions on these 4, 7, 8, 13, 21, 41, 54 🫣

thank youu, love you, 💋💋💋

hiiii anon! 😍😍💕 you know, my first reaction when i saw this mega ask was "what a LEGEND." and yes, i am quite aware of how much that sentence sounds like something george russell might say. but to quote him again: FACTS. you are an absolute legend for this!! in my opinion, there's no such thing as too much when it comes to piarles, so, mwah 🫶🥰 let's go!

4. Which one is more protective? Who needs to be ‘protected’?

ohhh, great one 👀 and i think my answer here might surprise some people, but i'm actually going to go for: charles is more protective, and pierre needs to be protected. hear me out - charles has been in a much more stable career position for much longer than pierre. i mean, he has a five year contract with freaking ferrari. above all that, he's italy's literal darling, and the tifosi would do pretty much anything for him, probably. he has a massive base of support, is my point. pierre? not so much. he's been stuck in the red bull machinery for years, and i don't need to re-hash 2019 here.

actually, no, i am going to re-hash 2019, at least a little bit. because 2019 was a prime instance of charles being protective of pierre: no matter what any journalist or anyone tried to get from him, he never said one bad word about pierre. he insisted that pierre is a great driver, and if you go watch that infamous and horrible 2019 post-demotion press conference, you will see charles pressed tight to pierre's side all throughout it. pierre needed him then, and charles was there.

in my headcanons, 2019 actually had a massive influence on their protector/protected one dynamic. pre-2019: yes, it probably would have been pierre being more protective of charles, since he is the older one, etc etc. however, after 2019, i feel like charles would have become a hundred times more protective of pierre. we see it in interviews - he's always praising pierre as a driver, saying how much he deserves a second chance. i get the distinct feeling that if anyone said anything bad about pierre where charles could hear it... well. i always like to picture it like this: charles is the kind of person who would give you a babygirl smile and make you think he's an absolutely harmless little angel, but then turn around and quite calmly get you fired from your job. still smiling.

so yeah, i think charles is more protective of pierre - quietly, and in his own way, but very efficiently. ❤️💪

7. Would they build a pillow fort together just because?

yessss 🥺🥺 in my mind, they absolutely would. since they're childhood best friends -- they probably used to build pillow forts together when they were little and going on holiday together, right? so doing it again now would be very nostalgic, and i could totally see them squished together under a too-small, structurally shaky pillow-and-blanket construction, reminiscing about all their favourite memories. and how it's always been the two of them, and it was never going to be anyone else, and and and -- yeah. i'm a little obsessed, but, well. it's about the childhood friends to lovers of it all for me 🥺❤️

8. What happens if one of them gets sick?

i feel like this very much depends on who's the one to get sick? if it's pierre... i feel like he's an absolutely terrible patient, and charles completely despairs over him. like. he HATES lying still in bed. complains every minute of every hour that he would rather be doing literally anything active. in fact, he probably tries to get up and go to the bloody gym while running a ridiculous fever. and charles would be like "YOU CAN'T FUCKING DO THAT" absolutely losing it with worry, whereas pierre would be all "it's fine, chéri." (this man definitely doesn't care about his own health enough.) in short, pierre is the most annoying and exasperating patient ever, and charles is over there tearing out his hair - and also probably calling both pascales and the ferrari team doctor for advice and all the help they might possibly need, because, well. he will do anything for pierre, after all.

(oh my god. this just reminded me... i actually have a half-written ficlet/drabble somewhere about charles taking care of a sick pierre. hmmm. maybe i should dig that up again 👀👀)

anyway! if charles is the one who gets sick, then i feel like it's almost the complete opposite, lmao. as long as it's not a really serious illness, then i feel like charles would be an absolute baby about it. taking every chance to be curled up under the covers, waited on hand and foot... "can you get me some more tea, mon amour? i am just feeling so unwell and couldn't possibly get up and do it myself 🥺" pierre sees right through him, obviously, but he indulges charles. (when doesn't he?) on the flip side, i also feel that if charles were ever quite seriously sick, then he'd downplay it a lot. pretend it's not half as bad as it actually is, etc. etc. of course, pierre would see right through him yet again, and it's at this point that pierre would become that very overbearing partner in the doctor's office. taking charles to not one, not two, but three doctors. constantly butting in with questions and "yes but is this going to help him now?" and being a fucking pain in the ass, really. those poor doctors. and charles gets irritated about it, but he's also a little bit soft on the inside, because, well... pierre cares. he cares so much. and this is how he shows it.

just... ugh. everything, for me, is about how much they love each other, and care about each other. ❤️❤️

13. Who’s the bigger tease?

answered here 😉

21. Who would get into a fight to defend the other's honor? Who tends to the other's wounds?

to be quite honest, i don't think either of them are the kind to actually get into physical fights?? charles would definitely not - he would do the "smile prettily at you while planning your imminent demise" thing, lmao. i feel like pierre is also more likely to be petty and sarcastic than actually get in a fight.

but if it really came down to it... yeah, pierre would probably be more likely to get into a fight than charles. and of course charles would tend to his wounds 🥺 i'm just now imagining a scene of pierre leaning against the sink in the bathroom, or something, and charles ever-so-achingly-gently wetting a cloth and wiping the blood off his face... aaaaahhhh. my HEART. i am weak for that, i can't even lie. something about the intimacy of taking care of your loved one after they've been hurt... and charles would be so careful, too, so earnestly making sure that he's cleaning the cuts just right. although he'd probably also half-worriedly scold pierre for being such an idiot, and pierre would just laugh, and kiss him to make him shut up. then wince, because that's maybe not the best idea after you've gotten hurt. and of course then charles would fuss over him some more, and make sure he doesn't do anything dumb for the rest of the night, and take care of him as best he can... just. yeah. 💙💙

41. Which one would take their jacket it off and drape over the other one because they were visibly shivering?

pierre. this is another one from my little personal stockpile of piarles headcanons i hold close to my heart: charles is someone who gets cold very very easily. and pierre, as we know, is a bit of a possessive bastard, so any excuse to make charles wear his things is a good one 😏 lol, i joke, but i also do think that these two love about each other fiercely and completely, and they always want to take care of each other. so, yeah. if pierre ever sees charles getting cold, his first thought will be to take care of him, then to be a little smug and possessive about "he's wearing my clothes, he's all mine, ha 😌❤️"

56. What do they do turn the other on/put them in the mood?

answered here 😘

(obligatory otp asks)

#asks & answers #anon #obligatory otp asks #oh wow this was SUCH a long one #but thank you SO MUCH for the incredible questions; anon!! 😍#i really enjoyed doing these :DD #as you can probably tell... because i have once again rambled... so fukcing much...#yeah i truly am INCAPABLE of being normal about piarles #oh well!!! i love them and i love YOU anon #<33333 #🦑🏎️ piarles #piarles headcanons

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safetycar-restart · 2 years

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Hello hello I’m back and ever since that video of George being fed poutine (the way he sticks his tongue out to be fed… don’t talk to me..) I’ve been Thinking about George and feeding…… I’m thinking it probably starts innocently, maybe you’re trying to get him to eat something but he doesn’t want to so you resort to literally putting the food in his mouth and he just gets so relaxed and pliant, looking into your eyes and only focussing on opening and closing his mouth as you hold his cheek, maybe stroke his hair, and hand feed him

And george just… loves it? It’s so intimate and trusting and from then it’s just something that you do… it’s not always sexual it’s just about you taking care of George and him trusting you 100% and making sure he’s healthy….. it takes him out of his head and puts him in such a soft relaxed subspace… sometimes you do it at the start of a scene to get him in the right headspace but sometimes it’s just about the feeding and you hold him afterwards and he absolutely melts

Of course the feeding is always accompanied by lots of praise, telling him how good he is, how well he’s doing, how much you love him… and George is just looking up at you with big trusting eyes, taking food and nibbling at your fingers, you’re holding him against you and stroking his face, playing with his hair, calling him a good boy, and it’s the most serene you ever see him…. (And if he maybe sucks on your fingers a little bit after the foods finished, who are you to stop him??..)

And when he’s little? That boy isn’t eating a single piece of food on his own, he’s been spoiled and he only wants it if you’re offering it from your hand… lucky you don’t mind because you love feeding him, it’s such a bonding experience and honestly? He deserves a bit of pampering -🐬

I.... 🐬 I need you to know that I would die for you. I would straight up lay down my life for you.

So maybe the first time you do it, George doesn’t want to eat something but he has to? Like it’s on his meal plan and he really doesn’t want to but he has to because he needs the nutrients and it’s specially done by his trainer.

And so you offer to hand feed him? And at first, George thinks you’re kidding but then you hold out some on a fork for him and before he even thinks about it, he’s eating from you.

And he loves it so much???? Even though he doesn’t like the food itself, he loves how it feels to have you feed him.

You praise him at the same time. Telling him he’s doing so well and you’re so proud that he’s eating all the food and you’re shocked to realise he’s going into subspace.

From then, you do it all the time.

And yeah absolutely it’s not always sexual? He adores just being able to kneel for you and have you hand feed him.

After the first incident, you always make sure to have some food around that can be easily hand fed. Like grapes or crackers or any finger foods.

Sometimes he’ll just bring a plate of food over to you and kneel for you? Often it’s whatever he’s supposed to eat for dinner or lunch that day. He doesn’t even say anything, just brings it to you and kneels because he knows you’ll know what to do.

And the best, the absolute best is when you cup his jaw with your free hand. You hold him close, stroking his jaw as you feed him and he’s just in heaven.

Of course he often sucks your fingers when he’s done. In particular, he does it when whatever you’ve fed him can’t be hand fed? Like, if you feed him spoonfuls of soup or something like that and then when he’s done, he wants to suck your fingers because he didn’t really get your fingers in his mouth while you fed him?

He just.... he’s your happy, plaint boy. He’ll often kneel for quite a while afterwards, smiling up at you as you stroke his jaw and play with his hair.

#sub!george #gr #nsfw.#🐬#gn!reader

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writing-wh0re · 3 years

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October 7th. Kinky Halloween Special Masterlist

Kink: Daddy

Au!Fred x Reader.

Words: 2,524.

Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Sex, Female Performing Oral, Male Performing Oral, Dirty Talk, Daddy Dom Fred, Praise. Best-friends Dad (Age Gap)

*Nova is my own character.

The moment Nova had suggested that I tag along with her for the summer and stay at her dad’s lake house, I couldn’t refuse. I was so excited.

One, the lake house is in the prime location, bars are within walking distance, the pool is immaculate and the view was something else all together.

Two, Nova’s dad, Fred.

God Fred was the definition of Dilf.

The first time I noticed my school girl crush was Nova’s 21st birthday. Fred had booked out a private Yacht and invited most of the people from our classes. It was sweet and probably the happiest I have seen Nova. However, I spent most of the night at the top of the Yacht drinking and joking around with Fred, both of us wanting to escape the crowd. That night solidified my crush for the older man, especially the second his fingertips brushed my knee which caused my skin to erupt with goosebumps and my breath to catch in my throat. I could have sworn Fred’s eyes lingered on my cleavage a little too much that night but I’m sure it was the alcohol swirling through my veins.

“Ready?” Nova’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, her suitcase behind her.

“Definitely.” I confirm zipping my case and following Nova out of our dorm, excitement and nervous bubbling inside of me.

\\//

Nova pushes the large dark wood door open, the smell of cinnamon and apple filling the air, light chatter bouncing off the walls.

“I think my uncle is here.” Nova mumbles, leaving her suitcase on the ground and walking through the house. I follow her lead, ditching my suitcase and taking in the beautifully styled home.

“Hey Dad, uncle George.”

I almost faint on the spot, there’s Fred and a literal duplicate of Fred.

“Uh Dad you remember Y/n, George this is my best friend Y/n.” I smile weakly at the pair as George smiles at me.

“Good to see you again Y/n.” Fred smiles, I notice George side eye Fred quickly raising his eyebrows before taking a sip of his drink. Fred simply smirks, nodding softly, his eyes lingering on me before darting over to Nova. I frown my eyebrows together trying to understand what they are silently talking about, surely not me. I shake the thought from my head, of course two grown men haven't been talking about me, especially not my best friend's dad. Get it together Y/n.

“So, what do you have planned for this summer?” George asks, his eyes flicking between Nova and I.

“Definitely hitting the bars, soaking in the sun and maybe finding a man or two.” Nova winks as she hands me a glass of wine.

“A man?” Fred questions.

“Or two?” George questions both of them laughing at each other.

“It's summer, why not have a little fun?” The second the words leave my lips I feel a blush creep upon my face, Fred and George both chuckling in response.

“Maybe we should go have some summer fun Freddie.” George smirks causing Nova to gag slightly.

“Right, that's our cue to leave.” Nova mumbles quickly downing the rest of her glass and walking back inside the house.

“Uh.” The heat returns to my body as I get left alone with Fred and George. I leave my glass on the table in front of me and walk inside the house, once inside I turn back to take in Fred’s appearance one last time. My breath hitches in my throat and butterflies erupt inside of me as our eyes lock together. I hurriedly look away and rush through the house to get ready for the night with Nova.

Coincidence. Just a simple Coincidence.

\\//

Nova and I had been dancing for hours, the music thumped through my chest, the alcohol flowed through my veins and my mind kept wandering to Fred, curious as to what he is doing right now.

“Hey, this is Tom and we’re getting out of here.” Nova squeals excitedly, pulling a blonde guy behind her before I even have a chance to respond.

“Seriously?” I yell, my voice falling silent over the sound of the music. I follow behind the pair, hoping to catch Nova and ask if she is seriously leaving me in the club right now.

“Hey!”

Nova’s body disappears into a cab before she has the chance to hear me.

“Fuck.” I huff, the cool breeze hitting my exposed skin. Only a three minute walk back to the house, I tell myself. I quickly check the time, 11:45pm, Fred will definitely be asleep and won’t question Nova’s hodiny act.

The walk back was quick and almost claiming. The sound of the wind blowing in the trees, owls hooting and the crispy moon light shining along the streets.

The walk back to the house had definitely sobered me up, now fully aware of how loud my heels are against the pavement. I decide to slip my heels off before walking on the wooden deck, not wanting to disturb Fred. I search through my bag, trying to find the house key but coming up empty handed.

“Fuck you Nova.” I mumble, slightly lifting up the doormat with my foot in hopes of a spare key, but no luck. Right as I’m about to walk around the back and sleep on the deck chairs the door pulls open.

Fred and George both laugh and continue their conversation before their eyes land on me.

“Oh Y/n, hello again.” George smiles.

“Um, hey.” I smile back. My eyes quickly flick to Fred his toned chest on full display and loose grey sweatpants hanging on his hips.

“Everything okay? You’re missing Nova.” Fred asks, slight worry filling his voice.

“Yeah no, everything is fine, Nova is making her summer fun with Tom?” I question wondering if I should even be telling her father and uncle this.

The twins laugh at my question, both shaking their heads.

“Well I will see you later, nice meeting you y/n.” George smiles, “Enjoy your summer Freddie.” George’s eyes look me up and down before he walks past me, the sound of his car unlocking in the near distance.

“Excuse me.” I mumble pushing past Fred as he stands in the doorway, I quickly drop my shoes with the others at the door, wanting to rush away to my room.

“So why aren’t you out making your summer fun with a guy?”

I feel my mouth go dry at his question, how do I answer this without saying it’s because of you dumbass.

“The guy’s I typically go for aren’t hanging around at clubs.” Fred raises his eyebrow, his eyes flicking from my lips and back to my eyes.

“What kind of guys do you go for?”

Now's your chance, say it's him, if it goes badly act super drunk and blame it on that. I take a deep breath after listening to the internal battle with myself.

“Guys that choose to stay in with their brothers and drink.” The moment the sentence flows through the air, my cheeks heat up, both with nerves and regret.

Fred smirks, licking his lips before walking towards me. I back away from him slightly before my back hits the wall.

“Is that so? Darling, I'm old enough to be your father”

“That has never been an issue for me… daddy.”

Fred groans before locking his lips with mine. I moan into the kiss, the sweet taste of cinnamon whiskey on his tongue as our tongues fight for dominance. His hands roam my body, falling to the middle of my back and pulling me flush against his chest. My fingers lace in his hair, tugging on the strands.

“This is wrong.” I pant, pulling away from the kiss as our chests rise and fall.

“Say the word and I stop.” Fred’s eyes search mine for any hesitation before I close the gap between us. His hands fall to my thighs picking me up in one swift motion and slowly walking us to his bedroom. My red dress hikes up my thighs with every step closer to the room, my black lace panties on full display. I pull my lips away from Fred’s kissing down his neck before discovering his sweet spot. His fingers grip my ass tight, moans falling from his lips.

A surprised squeal escapes me as Fred drops me on his bed, his eyes lingering on my body. Before he has the chance to ask me I pull my dress from my skin, leaving me in just my panties, thankful that my dress didn’t require a bra.

“Jesus.” Fred steps back, taking in the sight of me half naked and under him, egar for him.

“Daddy please.” The nickname causes his eyes to roll back slightly, a low sigh passing his lips as he cages me in against the mattress, kissing my lips before trailing kisses down my neck towards my boobs. I arch my back causing my nipple to press against his tongue more, his teeth pulling at the hardening nub.

“Yes, daddy.”

Fred smirks, chuckling as the slight vibration rumbles against my skin.

“I’ve barely touched you babygirl, look at you, so needy and eager for me.”

“Only you.”

My words pull yet another chuckle from his lips. Fred’s fingertips trail along the waistband on my panties causing a shiver to run down my spine. He leans down over my body, his warm breath fanning against my neck.

“Get on your knees.” Within a second I am on my knees looking up at him. “Fuck, such a good girl.”

I softly nod in response, my hand palming his evident erection through his sweatpants. Fred hisses at the contact before ridding himself of the clothing.

A whimper escapes me at the sight of his hard cock. Longer and thicker than I had imagined but everything I need.

Without being asked I take his dick in my hand, pumping up and down as I lightly swirl my tongue around the head.

“Yes baby.” Fred’s fingers loop in my hair, holding it out of the way to ensure he gets the perfect view of his cock disappearing into my throat. I bob my head up and down his length, my tongue swirling and my cheeks hollowing out. Fred’s cock leaves my lips with a pop, he grabs his dick and slowly slides it up and down my tongue moaning at the sight.

“Fucking perfect.” My eyes roll back at the praise, arousal leaking down my thighs and my mind hoping this isn’t some twisted dream.

Fred pulls me up by my arms, his lips finding mine again in a hungry kiss. His fingertips brush against my clothed pussy before slipping past the fabric and rubbing my swollen clit. I hiss at the contact, Fred moans at the feeling of my wetness.

“Daddy’s girl likes sucking dick huh?”

“Makes her little pussy drip?”

“Does my princess touch herself to the thought of me?”

I meekly nod in response not wanting the pleasure to stop, however Fred stops his movements causing me to whimper.

“Daddy asked you a question darling, do you think of me when you cum?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl.” He presses a quick kiss to the side of my head before he pushes me back onto the bed, ripping the panties from my skin. His tongue presses flat against my clit as I sigh with pleasure and surprise.

“Daddy.”

Fred hums against my pussy, swirling his tongue in a figure eight motion as my fingers grip the bed sheets. Fred continues to lap at my cunt, savouring the taste before his hands find mine, lacing our fingers together.

“Fuck.” I moan as I look down at Fred, his eyes catching mine while swiping his tongue side to side.

“Yes, fuck, oh I’m close.” I regret saying the words the second Fred pulls away from me.

“No baby, you’re cumming on my cock.” Butterflies fill my stomach at his words, truly hoping this is really happening.

Fred lays down next to me on the bed, grabbing my hips and guiding me to straddle his waist. His hand falls behind my neck, our lips meet in a brief kiss before being broken by my moans. Fred slides inside of me, stretching my walls perfectly.

“So big daddy.” My fingernails drag down his chest earning a hiss from his lips. After a few seconds of adjusting to his size I rock my hips back and forth, keeping my hands placed on his chest for balance.

“Beautiful.” Blush fills my cheeks at his praise, his soft hands rubbing up and down my sides. I keep my rhythm, every now and again swirling my hips for a different sensation, one that pulls the most delicious moans from his lips. Fred’s hands grip my ass, spanking the supple skin as I cry out in pleasure.

“Is this what you like, baby? Taking control and fucking daddy?” I hum in response as my eyes flutter closed basking in the feeling of his cock hitting my g-spot. Fred’s hands move to my back, flipping us over as I gasp.

“Only I can make you feel this good.”

My lips part and my eyes squeeze shut at the new angle. Fred’s resting on his knees with my legs against his chest, ankles resting on his shoulders, his hands groping my boobs.

“Look at you squirming on my cock, ruining you for any other man.”

“God daddy yes.”

“You’re mine.”

“Only yours daddy.”

Fred grunts at my response, his pace picking up as he starts to rub fast circles on my clit.

“Yes!” I cry out, my pussy clenching around him. “Just like that.”

“You cum when I say.”

I huff, digging my nails into the comforter as I scream and cry out.

“Daddy please, please let me cum.”

Fred grunts, licking his lips.

“Mmm hold it for me.”

My eyes roll back as my back arches off the mattress.

“Daddy, please!”

I feel Fred’s cock twitch inside of me, a deep moan filling the air.

“Fucking cum for me Y/n.”

A shiver runs down my spine, my body tenses as Fred’s name passes my lips. My mind feels foggy and my vision blurs. Fred grips my legs, his hips faltering as his hot release fills me.

Fred pulls out of me, both of us sighing, our chests rising and falling, sweat glistening on our bodies.

“Thank you.” I blurt out, feeling tiredness wash over me.

“No need to thank me Darling.” He places a soft kiss to my lips as I feel my eyelids get heavier, not even bothering to move as sleep envelops me.

\\//

I wake up the next morning to the sun shining through the blinds. Instantly everything floods back from last night. I quickly lift up the bedsheets, my naked body confirming that it wasn’t just a dream.

“Morning.” Fred mumbles, his morning voice sending wetness straight to my pussy.

“Morning.” I whisper a goofy smile on my face. Fred pulls me into him, his nose brushing against mine before our lips meet in the middle.

“Hey dad, have you see- WHAT THE FUCK?”

\\//

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bellatrixscurls · 3 years

Text

“his baby” ☁️ g.f.w.

summary : georgie praising his little baby.

request : can i request george wealsey x fem reader lazy early morning smut pls🥺 with praise kink and slight daddy kink too.

warnings : smut, slight daddy kink, fingering, oral (fem rec), kisses, pet names, praise kink, this is shitty tbh might delete it in the morning.

"g-georgie, what are you doing ?" you whined weakly, unable to move as your boyfriend's body forced your own deeper into the mattress.

but he didn't answer. he was too focused, admiring your beautiful face and body "never seen someone as beautiful as my baby" his hand carressed the side of your cheek, a big smile on his face as he continued to praise you.

honestly, you didn't know the reason of his sudden urge to do so, but you didn't mind. "such beautiful lips, m'love...and tits-" he paused, dark eyes glancing down at your chest. it was like he couldn't control himself as he squeezed one of them, a sly smirk appearing when you whimpered, "like that, angel ?"

"uh-huh" you managed, keeping your eyes closed as george's hands made sure to caress every inch of your body.

you felt his hands slide down to your clothed cunt, underwear already soaking in your own arousal. george took his time playing with the hem of it, his eyes on yours the whole time, adoring the way your face would twist in anticipation of what he was about to do, "i'm waiting for permission, my love..."

and that's when you felt like you could even explode from his words only. "p-please, daddy touch me, pl-" but you didn't even finish your sentence as your underwear was pulled to the side, fingers prodding at your wet entrance, but missing every time.

"look how wet you are, baby. my baby's so needy, isn't she ?" he taunted, still not as excited to tease you as usual. to be fair, you looked so pretty that he found it hard to keep making you beg.

you brought your hand down, fingers curling around your boyfriend's wrist as you tried to get him to move and give you what you wanted. and when he saw how desperate you actually were, he let out a chuckle before saying, "alright, alright-" he pushed two long fingers inside of you, earning a loud moan as you bucked your hips, feeling george's fingers go even deeper, "taking my fingers so well, bunny. come on, then, use 'em to feel good."

you continued to buck your hips, gasping every time your boyfriend's fingers would graze your g-spot, him always telling you to 'take it like a good girl'.

"nobody could take my fingers so well, bunny. they don't even stand a chance. only you, yeah ?" "o-only me".

he hummed in agreement, still knuckles deep inside of you as he kept thrusting his fingers at a ruthless pace, "that's right, pretty girl. show georgie how well you can take his fingers, alright ? cum for me, c'mon" he scrissored his fingers, stretching you out deliciously.

you, on the other hand, were a whimpering mess, practically melting with every praise you got from the handsome man above you, "kisses, please" you begged almost pathetically, expecting george to mock you for being so needy *like he usually does* but when you opened your eyes, he was already leaning closer, his bottom lip tucked in in anticipation.

and that's when you felt it : the softness of his lips against yours. they were moving so gently, almost as if your lips were made of porcelain.

george's sweet kisses along with the delicious movement of his fingers made it too hard for you to hold back as you blurted out, "d-daddy, can i cum, pl-please-" "go on, sweetheart. show daddy what a good girl you are for him" and that was all it took for you to release all over his hand, having him lean in to kiss you once again.

when he finally broke the kiss, you took it as a cue to speak again, "w-wanna...don't wanna be greedy but- i wanna feel you, please" your cheeks were red in embarrassment as you waited for him to mock you, but that sound never came.

"now, i can't refuse my baby and make her sad, can i ?"

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter blurb #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #george weasley smut #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley #george weasley x y/n #george weasley blurb #george weasley imagine #george weasley headcanon

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comfortwriting · 3 years

Text

A Triwizard Baby Part 1 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist,Taglist

Part 1 Fred Weasley x Fem Reader mini series

Requested/About: Best friends, Y/N and Fred Weasley share a night of passion together during the Triwizard Tournament, after that, everything changes and Fred can’t figure out why until the night of the final task. Y/N has the world on her shoulders, and Fred slowly finds himself losing everyone around him.

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

A/N: the ages/school year has been adjusted so everything is legal.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, intoxication, drunk and unprotected sex, losing virginity.

It all started when the more outspoken, confident twin crashed into you on the Hogwarts Express in your first year at Hogwarts. Sure, you were upset, embarrassed, and annoyed, but when you looked up and realised who had swept you off your feet, you knew it wasn’t your brain messing with you - from that moment you had fallen for him; Fred Weasley.

After your first train ride, classes, and many more along the way, over the years, you and Fred became best friends, going through thick and thin together, sharing the worlds loudest laughs, best pranks, and even the biggest tears. Your tiny crush on him blossomed into something much more, a love that couldn’t stop growing and spread out of control, but you were sure that Fred didn’t feel the same, and as you became older, reaching the end of your years in the education system, Fred discovered other girls and sex, whilst you drowned yourself in the life of parties and bottles of fire whiskey.

Fred loves the parties, he loves fire whiskey too, but he loves the other girls and the sex in a different way because they feed his ego, and it helped take his mind off you and the fact he didn’t have the guts to pursue you.

You were labelled as the party-girl which every girl wanted to be and wouldn’t challenge to a drinking game if their gold was on the table, and Fred gained the title as the play-boy, who made every lad jealous and watch in envy as he never got rejected and could flirt with any girl he wanted.

You had to hear the stories of your best friend fucking your classmates, and how much they loved it, praising him and gossiping about how skilled he was with his fingers, tongue, and cock. You were jealous, and you didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn't invent your sex life to reach Fred’s rank - you had never had sex - you were a virgin through and through.

Sitting next to Fred on the edge of his bed in the hospital wing you shook your head, laughing at the state of him and his twin, George.

“I’ve got to say, you’ve got a magnificent beard.” You laughed, the sight of George being an old man funnier than you expected.

Fred smirked despite still being pissed off with George “I never knew you were into older men” he winked.

“Well, you never asked.”

George groaned out “get a bloody room, the pair of you!”

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled Fred’s pillow from under his head, causing him to slump down, you bashed George with his pillow, sticking your tongue out at him and pulling a face.

“Y/N, don’t encourage them!” Madame Pomfrey hurried over, retrieving Fred’s pillow “Out! Out!” she shooed you.

Standing up and put your hands up in defence “Alright! I’m going!”

Fred’s smirk turned into a grin, “Watch the first task with us?” he asked.

You nodded “with pleasure, I heard Bill is going to be there.”

And you weren’t wrong, the first task came within the blink of an eye, you were honoured to meet Bill in passing - more like a “Hello!” with an awkward wave, followed by “Goodbye!” and another awkward wave, but the dragons fascinated you, and Fred spent the majority of the task watching you instead of the Hungarian Horntail, Swedish Short-Snout, Chinese Fireball, and the Common Welsh Green. George had to keep reminding Fred that their money and future business was on the line.

During the celebration party as it got later in the evening, you and everyone else surrounded Harry, clapping and cheering as he lifted the golden egg infant of him, parading it around, all of you watching and waiting eagerly, encouraging him to open it in hopes that it could liven up the party - giving everyone an excuse to stay up late and continue drinking.

Fred and George lifted Harry up, propping his legs on either of their shoulders, their arms strapping him in so he was above the large and busy crowd.

“Knew you wouldn’t die, Harry.”

“Lose a leg.”

“Or an arm.”

“Pack it in altogether.”

“Never!”

Fred and George stopped heaving Harry into the air, Seamus begging for a clue, you stared at Fred, your eyes getting lost in the strands of his long golden hair, but you weren’t the only one - the girls behind you were fixating on him, whispering about his good looks and height.

You zoned out completely, the same jealousy and bitterness spreading through your veins, you had to talk to him, tell him you loved him, but how?

Harry opened the egg, bright light of gold broke out followed by loud screeching, breaking you out of your toxic train of thoughts, Fred and George dropping Harry and flinching like you and everyone else, covering your ears and begging Harry to shut it up.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron interrupted.

Fred huffed and shook his head “As if this party couldn’t get any worse.” he turned around and tried to flee to his dorm room, calling it a night and encouraging everyone to get to bed.

The two girls behind you who were salivating over Fred pushed past you and called him over, blushing and batting their eyelashes at him.

“We’re throwing a party of our own” she eyed him up as if he was something to eat “tonight doesn’t have to end on a downer.”

Her plan worked, instantly gaining Fred’s attention, he grinned and nodded “Wicked, can I bring someone along?”

“George is already invited” her friend replied, smirking at George.

“Can I bring someone else too, though?” Fred asked.

The girls exchanged looks with one another cautiously, but they didn’t want to let him down or uninterested him, “Of course! Who?”

Probably his friend Lee or some girl he’s fucking.

“Y/N!” Fred called out, smiling at you “You want to join this party with me?”

The girls glared at one another, muttering and swearing under their breaths to one another.

This is your moment, Y/N, don’t mess this up, shoot your shot.

“Yeah!” You smiled back, feeling honoured and slightly shocked “Yeah, sure!”

Once everyone had cleared off, you and your new group sneaked out of the common room and into Moaning Myrtle's territory, all the professors were either partying or fast asleep, even Mr Filch and Mrs Norris grudgingly had the night off.

The dark and grubby bathroom spun around whilst you got onto your knees, the cold tile floor making you shudder when coming into contact with your warm legs. The two girls smirked and sat down too, the shorter one pulling Fred to sit down next to her, her hand continuously placing itself on his knee, ticking you off.

“Well, since Y/N decided to drink her feelings, we’ve got an empty bottle and we could do with a game to lighten up the mood.” The shorter girl spoke out, causing Fred to give her a dirty look for calling you out.

“What is it then?” George asked “Pretty shit place for a party.”

“Careful” you hiccoughed “Don’t want to make Mrytle cry.”

“We’ve decided truth or dare, but with spinning the bottle. Whoever it lands on has to answer a truth, or accept a dare from the spinner.”

You rolled your eyes “Seems very... tween like of you.”

Fred laughed.

“You weren’t invited, so feel free to leave if this party isn’t good enough for you.”

You ignored her and played along anyway.

“George” she squealed “Truth or dare?”

George hesitated for a moment “Truth”

“Does Fred keep you up at night with all the girls he brings back?”

After what felt like an eternity, the bottle finally landed back and George, and he spun the bottle, causing it to land on you.

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

I swear if you ask me anything stupid -

“D-dare.” you hiccoughed again, trying to act bigger than your boots.

George stared at the two desperate girls and looked back at you “I dare you to snog my brother.”

Okay, I really wish I went for truth, what was I thinking? Bloody hell!

“Okay then” you replied nervously, crawling in the middle of the circle, Fred crawling over to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Fred’s warm, large, gentle hands cupped your face, leaning in, his lips pressed against yours shocking both of you as if a spark had ignited, whilst you kissed back, your hands tangled in his long golden hair and the two of you were suddenly hit with the realisation of how in love with one another you actually were.

More students had caught wind of the lame party and livened it up, playing music and brightening the bathroom up with colourful moving lights, bringing more fire whiskey and encouraging everyone to dance.

Everyone around you watched as you and Fred continued to snog, his tongue dancing with yours, his cock starting to support a semi, everyone cheered aside from the two girls who felt as if they had shot themselves in the foot.

“Okay!” the girl called out again, trying to pull Fred away “Times up!”

but he didn’t want to stop, and neither did you, the memories you shared playing out in front of you.

“I’m sorry for crashing into you” he frowned, sitting next to you on the train “is your head alright? I can try and make the bruising go away.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him, you chuckled and shook your head “It’s okay but thank you for offering” you smiled.

His twin brother entered the carriage, “Fred-” he stared at you “what’s happened to you?”

“I wish you were coming with us” Fred sighed, grumbling to himself.

“Oh don’t be silly, you’re going on holiday!” you beamed “just make sure you take plenty of pictures, I’ve heard Egypt is lovely!”

“I’ll write to you and I’ll send the photos through the owl post if I’ve got enough time.”

“We’re supposed to be studying for our O.W.Ls!” you hissed at Fred, hiding your answers from him as he continued to make your stationary levitate and drop onto your head.

“Please take part in this prank, Y/N” he begged “I promise I won’t ask for anything ever again.”

“But you always do, Freddie!”

He stared at you, pouting and making puppy eyes.

“Fine” you sighed, giving in “Let’s go and do it then.”

Fred punched the air and grabbed you by the hand, pulling you away from your desk, the two of you smirking and giggling with excitement.

“I didn’t realise it would be this cold” you shivered, standing outside of Honey Dukes, snow falling from the sky and sticking to the pavement.

Fred pulled off his knitted jumper “Put this on love, don’t want you freezing now do we?”

The memories snapped away as Fred fell back, his arm in the girl's hand, you were desperate for more and opened your eyes, frowning that he had been dragged away for a dance with her, you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands rested on her waist.

Getting off your now red cold knees and standing up, you downed some more fire whiskey from the first bottle you laid eyes on and decided to copy Fred - dancing with anyone who wanted you - grinding against them, having them hold you close and breathing down your neck, you had to admit, for someone who had never done this before, you were doing a pretty good job, almost as if you had done it before.

Fred couldn’t get you, the kiss, the feeling of your lips, tongue, and the replay of memories out of his head. Breaking away from the girl, he approached you as you pulled away from the tall Hufflepuff lad, finally reuniting with the love of your life. Almost instantly, Fred’s lips collided with yours, your hands back to being tangled in his hair and his hand squeezing your behind teasingly, alcohol on your breath and his.

“I want you.” you breathed, pulling away from the kiss “I want you to fuck me like you do everyone else.”

“I want you too” Fred replied, taking your hand and fleeing from the party.

After what seemed like a marathon, you finally burst into Fred’s empty dorm room, he shut the door behind him and locked it before kissing you passionately, lowering you onto the bed and taking your clothes off.

This was it, the moment you were craving for years on end, this was it, this was how you would be losing your virginity, this would be giving yourself to your best friend entirely.

But Fred had no idea that it was your first time, in his head, you were having just as much sex as him.

Fred couldn’t get over the sight of your naked body, your breasts, your tummy, your bum, your inner thighs, your exquisite crotch - you were the definition of perfect, he had forgotten about every girl he had ever seen naked at the sight of you, you were making him feel as if this was his first time all over again.

Fred sucked on your nipples whilst he stimulated your clit with his fingers, warming you up, the sensation of his warm tongue and mouth sent shivers of pleasure down your spine, and as nervous as you were, you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he played with your touch starved clit.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Fred asked, pulling away from your breasts.

“Yes,” you breathed out, slurring slightly “I’m ready Freddie.”

Fred’s head, like yours, was also spinning. He stumbled and reached for the lube, applying it onto his length and then across your tight hole. Fred felt as if he had forgotten something, but the more he wracked his own brain, the more he couldn’t remember what he needed. He laid you on your back and climbed on top, lining himself against your entrance.

Looking at you one last time to make sure, you nodded, and he slowly pushed himself inside of you, stretching you out as your walls tightened around you. You winced as you experienced an entirely new feeling, Fred slowed down and stayed still inside of you so you could adjust to his size when you were ready to continue, Fred started to trust himself inside and out of you gently, holding your hand and kissing your head as you started to feel incredible pleasure, your soft moans spilling from your lips.

Fred couldn’t believe he had gotten so lucky, he was fucking - no - he wasn’t - he was making love to the most perfect girl in the world, someone he actually cared deeply for and had feelings for, you weren't a stranger, you were special, you weren’t temporary, you were soothing his aching heart - your absence was the cause, and your love - the medicine.

You watched as Fred’s hard cock slid inside and out of you, you admired his perfect body, the way he moaned and expressed the pleasure he was feeling through his facial expressions, you gripped onto his hand tighter as he picked up his speed and throbbed inside of you, you didn’t want this to end, you wanted to live inside this moment forever.

“My- My tummy feels tight” you panted, not knowing what was happening.

“Cum for me, Y/N.” Fred panted too “Don’t hold back.”

Oh, so that’s what that feeling means?

The pressure built up until it burst, you felt yourself explode as the pleasure became more intense, you relaxed and released, creaming down Fred’s length, your walls strangling him.

“Fuck!” Fred panted, the beads of sweat spreading across his forehead and back “I’m cumming baby!”

Baby.

“Y/N!”

Fred released his sperm deep inside of you without realising he didn’t have a condom on, you didn’t know whether he had put one on or not either, you didn’t know to ask or mention it, you were on birth control up until last week, you had to come off it due to the side effects and stress you under as your N.E.W.Ts approached.

Fred slowly pulled out and collapsed in your arms, the two of you holding one another, your eyes too heavy to stay open.

As you drifted off to sleep, your life was about to change forever.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fanfiction #George Weasley one shot #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfic #ron weasley #bill weasley #bill weasley x reader

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siriusmydeer · 3 years

Text

george weasley smut alphabet

george weasley x fem!reader

warnings: at this point i don’t even know what to write, seggsy things

a/n: that took 3 days holy shit

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

ok molly taught him to be respectful alright, always treat your lady well. kisses, showering, praise, love, affection, cuddles. the whole nine yards, not one step left behind.

“c’mon, dove, y’gotta get up. please, f’me?” the boy slightly-slurred, pulling up your hair slightly damp from sweat, grasping it all into double french braids. showering you, meanwhile showing you immense praise and affection; kissing from your ankle points all the way to the apple of your cheeks, and dressing you in the process.

“mhmm, don’t wanna.” you proceeded to mumble, your body begging you to sleep and rest; feeling immense of exhaustion from previous rounds. finishing the braid in your hair, the red head picked you up and placed you onto the red-plaid comforter of the bed.

your body starting to meld with the mattress, and breathing becoming heavier almost delving your subconscious into the realm of sleep; feeling him slip under you and place your head right on his bare skin, feeling the bone of his sternum.

“did i... did i do well?” you murmured through fatigue, yearning to feel the warmth and affection of your boyfriend while his heart beat lulled you like a baby from a lullaby to a deep hearted sleep.

“you’ll always do perfect for me, forever ‘n ever.”

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

ok so, he loves his hands. they’re big, and skinny, and his fingers are long. i mean he catches you looking at them all the time so it also happens to be a nice ego boost. george’s self esteem has kinda always been there but it hasn’t been amazing, but when you came in the picture then it was like 📈

“george, georgie, please. s’too much, too much.” your vision had been immensely bleary for the last few minutes due to pleasureful tears dripping from your waterline. your fingers tried to find the closest thing they could grapple at, george’s hands.

after three continuous rounds, george had been finger fucking you for the last thirty minutes pushing you to vast overstimulation. you had the feeling of pins and needles dance upon your cunt; the waves of pain and pleasure mixing into your nervous system and sprawling throughout your entire body.

you grasped ahold of his ivory-toned hand, trying to beg for his mercy; yet none was shown, this was your punishment. he reclined his hand that had a tense hand on your thigh, now directly on your abdomen pressing you back onto the messy comforter bed keeping his hand placed there.

seeing the arch of your spine in his direct view, seeing your face slightly contort in delectation as he hit the g-spot with the pads of his fingers. feeling the intense pride on how he could get you, so delighted and filled with pleasure at his decree.

“taking it like such a good girl, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

he likes tits, i mean... HE GIVES THE VIBE. like if he could he would hold them, squish them, kiss them, mark them in anyway he wanted FOREVER. which he would, but he couldn’t 24/7 so he took his opportunities when he could.

“hello george, how are you? i’m great, thanks for asking.” you chortled with intense sarcasm after your boyfriends sudden disruption from your reading and dramatically bursting into your dormitory and shoving his face into your chest beneath your his t-shirt.

“shhh, i need a minute of peace please.” he hushed you, feeling his lips suck a little on the flesh of your sternum, his voice incredibly muttered from the smothering of your boobs onto his mouth. feeling the vibrations from his lips send a mini-shockwave through your spine and attempting to repress an overdue shiver.

he left light kisses, from his previous red splotch, as he moved more underneath your shirt praising your skin as you chuckled a bit. his ginger hair tickled your neck as he continued, “my tits are peaceful?” you questioned, yet again in a sarcastic tone awaiting his response.

“yea, immensely.”

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person) (isa i could kiss u for this one)

so, messy messy man. on your tits, on your thighs, on your face, on your STOMACH, on your ass and his fave.... inside of you <3 he just loves to see it on you, it turns him on again no matter how many times you’ve been at it.

que: birth control potions, because i’m pretending they exist and creampies are fun.

“gonna— gonna finish, where d’you want me?” the boy heaved while doing continuous thrusts deep into the walls of your cunt. furthering your grasp onto the clenched biceps and forearms that laid tense beside your perspired face.

“inside me, please. want it inside me.” your voice was winded and huffed, feeling the euphoric pleasure crinkle and bend onto your nervous system from your orgasam lull you into a relaxation, while your boyfriend continued to thrust into your overused cunt of the night.

feeling his tepid release stick into the planes of your thighs and a light sheen layer onto the lower abdomen of your torso. feeling the dripping of his cum directly laid upon your skin. the contrast between his release and your flesh looking almost exquisite in his view point.

you were so beautiful, so beautifully messy.

currently clenched around his prick you felt the tremble in his cock as he released into the velvet walls of your cunt, remaining inside of you as he caught his breath between his lungs from his swift thrusts.

“gonna keep you all full, yeah?”

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

george is in fact, a switch. like when he’s dom, he’s soft dom. but when he’s sub, he’s whiny and extremely forward in begging. it took him awhile to tell you because he felt embarrassed but after that you guys had a lot of... fun ;)

“please, please, ‘m sorry. i promise!” he griped, pulling on the silk on his restraints regulating the control of his wrists that laid on his lower back. “but georgie, isn’t this what you wanted? to be punished?” you sent a faux pout in his direction, your finger tips dancing upon his clenched torso once again edging the boy upon his ration.

“but, but—“ the boy faltered whilst speaking, trying to excuse his actions of venturing to grasp your attention whilst you were busy with another task, and disregarding you both friends pleas. “c’mon, georgie. you were bad, this is your punishment; if i hear anymore you won’t cum for a week.” you chastised, seeing his eyes widen in fright and obnoxiously nod his head in compliance.

your brought your hand back to his prick, thumb slightly outlining the slit in his tip; his most sensitive spot causing a small groan to escape his lips subconsciously, his back slightly melding off of the mattress and arching into the air at your pressure.

attempting to repress his pleasureful shivers that were scratching at his sensorium, his cock basically at your dictation for his release.

“you’re being punished, not pleasured.” you chastised once again, sprawling you hand on his abdomen pushing his back directly onto the ridged comforter once more.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

so people would agree to disagree, but george lost it first. i don’t think george would do one night stands, they were always with past girlfriends but you are the girl he truly put his all into.

“and you’re sure?” the boys frantically questioned once more, he had been previously skittish about if the both of you were ready to go into the next stage of your relationship; wanting your full consent to continue with anything.

and worrying that some kinks he had in mind might’ve been to much for future references, and just yearning for you to feel as comfortable as possible.

“told you, georgie, i want all of you.” the question was heaved through your words from the foreplay that had taken a gust of your air right out from under of you.

“we’ve talked about this darling, ‘m ready.” adding on to your comment, reassuring the boy who seemed to be faintly timorous on his next action that was soon to take place. you caressed his forearm, feeling the rigid bends of his veins over the pads of your finger tips. your other hand maneuvering itself on the curvature of his neck and bringing his lips to slot with your own.

feeling the comforting and familiar taste of pumpkin and cinnamon transfuse onto your tongue in the midst of feeling his plush lips blend with yours.

“i’m ready, want you inside of me.”

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

any position where he can see your face, he can see your body, he can see all of you. he wants to kiss you, mark you, caress you. he wants everything he wants to feel so connected with you.

“you my darling.” he spoke, sighing as he spoke. in between words of his affirmations, splotching small kisses that bore on the planes of your lower abdomen and shifting his way up your bare-body.

“are the most ethereal thing, to ever exist.” the boy continued in his wake of appraisal, of your complete quintessence and soul.

“i love you.” you whispered in a small, barely audible murmur in appreciation of the red head you had been destined with. he was truly put in your path of life to give and receive love and adoration. “i love you.” the boy whispered back at your confession, muffled into the flesh above your sternum.

continuing to leave small vermillion hues of colour, making his way to the the junction of your neck and resuming with his praises of adorations of your complete essence.

the scarlet-haired boy was completely entranced with every element of your being, almost besotted with your every move. always wanted to praise, and adore every aspect of you in anyway he could possible.

“no, i love you more.” he corrected himself, undeserving of your mutual appreciation.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

healthy use of both. sometimes you guys have your super serious moments and other times you guys are giggling together.

“oh merlin, i really hope fred did not hear that.” you spoke through a sporadic chortle, your previous whimper being a little bit too raucous. the both of your wands misplaced and unable to cast a muffling charm meant you and george had to be as quiet as possible.

“y/n, he definitely did. let’s hope he’s asleep.” george making an effort to whisper but his own disgustingly humours mind getting too himself and letting chuckle slip out from his lips mid-sentence.

“i didn’t say stop, keep going!” you hastily spoke, sending a cheeky grin in faux annoyance at him as he continued his slow but intensely deep thrusts in your pulsing cunt, the both of you close to a release.

you were deeply trying to muffle your pleasureful noises from the palm of your hand, but discreetingly failing as you let another strangled moan bubble from your vocal cords.

both you and george looking at eachother frantic for a moment, completely silent and worried if one of his dorm mates had heard the both of you. silent for a moment then chuckling together whilst bumping noses at the voyeuristic acts that were being taken place in his very bed.

“oi, some of us are trying to sleep here!”

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

yes the fucking carpet matches the damn drapes HE HAS A CARROT CROTCH DO NOT TELL ME OTHERWISE. as for grooming, i think he just just have a stubble? like i don’t feel like he cares to much about hair so he would just shave most of it off. as for u he does not give a fuck, as long as you like yourself he likes you so it does not matter at all for him.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

ITS GEORGE WEASLEY IF UR NOT EXPECTING ROMANCE AND INTIMACY 89% OF THE TIME GO REEVALUATE. i’m not saying he’s not rough or not kinky, but he’s very intimate with you especially during aftercare. if he’s feeling special, like on anniversaries, birthdays, or days he wanted to make you feel really really good he would bring out rose petals, floating candles i mean he would WHIP OUT A LAVENDER OIL DEFUSER OR SOMETHING?

the floor was coated in tons vermillion bloomed rose petals, the scent of cinnamon and fresh linnen was intense through the air of the newly-cleaned dormitory, the fresh ivory bed made and the pillows slightly puffed to perfection.

“just, y’know, one last birthday surprise?” the red-head boy muttered staring at the scarlet-shaded floors whilst attempting to distract himself by fumbling his clammy hands into the pockets of his overworn grey slacks.

“d’you like it?” george continued to mutter, his eyes staggering around the room he had prepared for you both that night so he could kiss, cherish and adulate your entire being till the depths of early morning sunrise.

“georgie, i— i love it.” you felt perspiration sting in the waterlines of your eyes as you stammered slightly in shock, intense adoration and tenderness hastily speeding through your bloodstream hitting you directly into the warmth of your heart.

facing said-boy, you looked at him with complete fondness, grasping upon of his hand that was resting in his slacks now in the palm of your own comically-smaller hand.

“it’s truly amazing.”

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

gonna be honest here, not really. unless he wasn’t seeing you for like weeks, like during a holiday or something. even then i feel like he would imagine you were doing it to him, like whenever he was feeling needy he would normally just go to you and you were more than happy to oblige to his request.

“oh— fuck me.” the boy groaned while stroking his cock in quick circular motions, the other hand preoccupied with a risqué polaroid photo of you that you had sent him in the mail during the winter holidays.

it wasn’t the easiest being away from him during the winter holidays and his randomly occurring hard-ons apparently happened to occur more frequently without a desirable girlfriend around and more time to use your undesirable hand.

attempting to finish himself off fairly quickly so he could scoundrel himself back to bed counting the days till you would dramatically reunite on the hogwarts express and more than likely pull you away from peering eyes for a quickie in the bathroom.

just the thought of your beautiful skin melding with his own in the humid air of the bathroom made him spurt his release all over his prick and a groan emerging from his throat in the process.

“fuck.”

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

he has a innocence kink.... like the thought of teaching you everything like in bed makes his mind go WEEE WOO WEEE WOOO

now i shall elaborate

“pretty girl, does it feel good?” he crooned into the shell of your ear, feeling the tense grasp of your agile hands on his clothed biceps where his dress shirt laid on him and suddenly crinkled from your clasp onto him.

“mhm— yes, yes georgie.” you gasped mid sentence, trying to catch your breath from the new sensations that had washed over your nerves, feeling new pleasureful burning sensations in the pit of your abdomen and run along the curvature of your spine.

attempting to suppress small moans you continued petite chokes of air in ecstasy feeling george’s pads of his fingers dance upon your clit. “oh— fuck.” you muttered in a form of a bleary headspace trying to manage a coherent thought.

the red-head grinned in gratification, your full pleasure at his decree, knowingly giving you these new sensations. “i thought you were an innocent girl, now you’re my dirty one?” the boy mocked at your trembling figure in his lap.

“maybe you’re not my innocent girl after all.”

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

in my head.... he likes voyerism. don’t ask me why but the thrill of someone catching y’all 🤪

so i will no would have to say that he likes his dormitory a lot but i also feel like he likes the common room couch.

“oh, fuck—“ the moan has blossomed out of your throat and tinged in the previously solemn and peaceful common room, but now the air felt humid and extremely titillating common room that had been used for social and cuticular activities now being used for intercourse.

“darling if you’re not quiet we’re going to be caught.” the vibrations of his words directly muffled onto your perspired flesh, due to his manipulation of your body strictly at his will. “so good, daddy, so so good.” the words mildly uttered from your throat due to the infrequent gasps of pleasure between your words.

the both of you fused together passionately on the snug common room sofa in the late hours of the night, to be caught in a very comprising position by a student or supervisor if not subtle enough. the fire being your only production of light source throughout the entire room, dismissed in the backround close to being burnt out entirely.

“but daddy, you make me feel so good.” you’re voice tinged into a slightly higher pitch, feeling his deep thrusts enclosed inside of your cunt, your attempted muffles of rising gasps and lament whimpers to be heard significantly prominent throughout the walls of the vermillion shaded common room.

“awe slut, you want everyone to know how i’m making you feel?”

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

so since georgie is a switch i feel like most of his motivation comes from when you’re bossy, outside of the bedroom. telling him what to do, how to do it, having to fix it for him. because either he’s gonna punish you for thinking you can be in charge or he’s gonna do literally everything you tell him too without a second thought.

“ok so for today, we’re not playing around here, you finish your charms, then we have lunch, we do transfiguration together, play some quidditch with fred, eat dinner, and then free period to do whatever we want, got it?” your hastily speeding voice catching the attention of his ears and consuming every single word that you had to say.

you glanced at him for a moment, his eyes slightly out of zone but still attentive to your words, also wanting to distinguish if he had been following to the list you had for the day so he could ultimately stop procrastinating and get his work done.

“yeah, er, i got it.” george spoke awkwardly for a moment, trying to discreetly shuffle around his body at the feeling of immense amount of pressure and tensity starting to form around his groin.

you raised a brown, you’re forehead slightly creasing as you tested the waters at his slightly timid figure and lack of response. “do i need to make you repeat it back to me.” tilting your head, trying to pan off as more intimidating so the red-head would coherently listen to you rather than pawn off and work on a prank with his mischievous-twin.

“no, no— i’m fi— you’re fine.” he groaned and he hesitated mid-sentence aiming to speak as casually as possible, moderately shuffling around his pants as he spoke at your firm and unyielding tone with him.

“you’re sure? because if you’ve got it wrong i’m going to upset, got it?” your voice at an adamant expression, annunciating that everything for the day was going to be smooth sailing rather than difficult and irritating for either of you.

“no, i understand.” he cleared his throat in compliance, aiming to remove any unnerving tension that might be there as he awkwardly trailed behind you to the library.

not to mention with a rock hard cock just sitting in his plants.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

threesomes. “bUt pArIs” NO. he would not want to share you, he had literally had to share everything his whole life and seeing his twin brother or literally anyone else pleasure you is a big fat NONO

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

he’s a giver, if u say no, ur lying. hearing you go literally whimper, tremble, moan at HIS will that’s enough for him to cream his pants.

“georgie— fuck. keep going.” your praised the boy deep between your legs, your words of appraisal going straight to his groin area whilst you threaded you fingers directly into his damp ginger locks.

feeling his tongue swirl directly onto your engorged clit, small gasps emitting from your mouth as his face was buried into your cunt for the last hour. the exceedingly amount of ecstasy built up into a broiling pit in your belly and ready to explode at any given moment.

“‘m gonna cum, gonna finish.” you gasped, feeling his tongue prodding at your entrance, his thumb placed directly onto your swollen cunt and swirling in figure eight like motions to make your orgasam rapidly occur.

his prick immensely hard, beseeching for a release. his nearest output being the subtle grind of his hips and the soft mattress of the bed as you continued to sensually yank at his hair.

feeling the overflow of desire, the whimpers exceeding from your lips and the pressure against his cock made his orgasam occur midst your own; finishing together the only thing to be heard was your heaving breaths and george’s hoarse voice from not speaking for the last while.

“so, i might’ve just done something.”

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

i feel like he’s very medium paced, he’s not to fast nor slow. he has his moments where it’s very slow and loving or if he just lost a quidditch game and it’s very fast in rough. i don’t think it’s set on just one i think it varies.

“needy little slut, just wanted me so badly, hmm?” the grit in george’s teeth prominent as he spoke to you, the tensity of his hands on grip of your waist also clinically distinguished as he pulsed in and out of your from behind.

“fuck— please.” the begging was evident in your tone, feeling the grasp on your waist and he plunged into you emitting gasps every few seconds from desire. his hand grasped onto the root of your tresses, your cheek melding with the mattress and a moan exploding from your trachea at his aggressive demeanour.

“please—“ you continued you beg, not for anything in specific but the feeling of him to continue his thrusts and not falter his pace. the feeling of being exceedingly full of him, the explicit belligerent emotion he was feeling and turning that into passion.

knees bucking at his will as he continued the fast and thrown pace that was previously endured. feeling the ecstasy rome freely through your veins as he degraded you.

“my slut, so dirty.”

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

so... george wants to appreciate you fully. and i don’t think either of you would be so horny that he had to just pull you in a broom closet. even if it’s fast and rough aftercare is still extremely keen to him after having sex no matter the circumstances so i don’t think he would be into quickies.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) - this was in fact somewhat inspired by 50 shades of grey

george is the kinkier twin. there i said it, and i will not change my mind. yeah he’s more quiet whatever more emotional, throughful BUT THOSE ARE ALWAYS THE ONES WHO ARE KINKIER. i so as long as you were cool with it i feel like he would be as-well.

“so you wanna play, dove?” running the tip of the small blade down the depth of your torso, and across your abdomen seeing the heaving rise and fall of your torso. the slight scarlet-coloured ribbon peaking from underneath the arch of your back that restrained both of your wrists.

“yes, sir.” the mumble was stern, and tense but slightly heaved from apprehension on what he would do with the tip of the stygian-coloured blade that was held in his ivory hand. your safe word explicitly-clear before he had restricted your eyesight.

a slow light vermillion trailed in its wake from the tip of the blade that moved across the skin of your navel. he heard the audible gasp release from your mouth in anticipation.

“keep going, please.”

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

so i feel like george goes for like.... 3? but he definitely does foreplay and stuff too. so it’s like a healthy mix of a lot. so a couple of rounds, sometimes more, sometimes less, it all depends on the time like early in the morning or really late at night.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

so, i don’t think so. so the only thing i feel like he would have is like ropes/ties and blindfolds. other than that i don’t think so, but fred has definitely gifted you something just for the kick of it all.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

i feel like it depends if he’s more sub or more dom. if he’s dom he will tease you all he likes just to see you squirm, but if he’s sub then he definitely will wants you to tease him.

“georgie, please, i cant take it anymore.” you pleaded, your tone was soft but irritated, the continuous edging was extremely displeasing for you. you wanted him, you wanted to feel every withering inch of him, his body, his essence; but he simply wouldn’t give it to you.

“c’mon, weren’t you the one who ‘said patience is a virtue.’ you’ve got to be patient then, right dove?.” george made a mockery of something you had in a different context but instead he used it to his advantage.

his middle finger crept its way back to the depth of your navel and right on your cunt, starting recurrent swirls on your engorged clit. feeling a similar sensation that you had previously endured till your denied orgasam.

“be patient, or you won’t be getting anything.”

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

i feel like it’s a lot of grunting and dirty talk, or even just praising. there’s more moaning when doing oral. it’s not necessarily loud but you can clearly hear it.

“my pretty little witch.” the words of appraisal blossomed from his mouth as he kissed upon the column of your neck and the bend of your shoulders. he proceeded to kiss around the shell of your ear and speaking.

“nobody can make me feel the way you can.” george murmured making sure you know, followed by a pleasureful grunt by the way your cunt was continuously clenching around his cock and the way your hand grasped at his lower back.

“oh, merlin—“ your voice sounded like a gasp, arching your back directly into his freckled chest from his prick prodding at your cervix, you’re breathing was heaved from his continuous thrusts that faltered as he was close to release and exceedingly praised into your perspired skin.

“i love you so much.”

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

george likes pda. i’m not talking like sex in the great hall or obnoxiously making out in the courtyard but he does like to show everyone that you are together.

“georgie if you kiss me again fred is going to throw up.” the murmur sent vibrational waves into the boys cheek your own affections shown at the proximity between you both, partly because the incessant chatter of the great hall.

“and? you’re my girl.” the statement was clear as day in his eyes, he wanted to show everyone just how much he loved you, the intimacy in the situation between two teenagers who were in love; he didn’t care what anyone else had to say.

you looked at him for a moment with challenging eyes, seeing the intimacy in his own cocoa-coloured ones. poorly making an effort to suppress a grin at his affections.

he took his opportunity to press a kiss to your plush-smooth lips, then the hued rose coloured flesh on your cheek, then the tip of your pointed nose.

“i love you, i won’t not show that because my git brother doesn’t like it.”

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

i feel like it’s a bit bigger than average, probably around 8in when hard? i think it’s more longer than thicker.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

i mean..... he’s a teenage boy. i think it’s average like i don’t think he’s dying to have sex every second but he does in-fact like to appreciate you in more ways that one. because sex for him isn’t just a way to get rid of a hard on it’s a way to appreciate your body and just you in general.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

i feel like it depends on how hard the both of you went, because you guys could either end up talking for hours or simply just cuddle and fall asleep.

“‘m so tired, georgie.” you murmured into the boys bare chest, stroking the side of his torso as the both of you laid below his his fitted sheet bed. the time around twelve am and your eyes desperate for sleep.

“sleep, darling. i’ll be here in the morning to wake you up.” he uttered. his voice fairly hoarse and rough, whilst stroking your back feeling the wrinkle in the shirt he had given you. fairly prideful that you had been wearing something of his.

“love you, georgie” you wiped your nose while speaking, feeling love and adorned by the boy you were cuddling with; wanting these solemn peaceful moments forever.

“love you more, forever ‘n ever.”

taglist: @ronbrokemyheart @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @famdomhideout @hufflepogue

#george weasley x ravenclaw!reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley x malfoy!reader #george weasley x muggle!reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasly #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fic #george weasley fluff #george weasley one shot #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #harry potter

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nextdoor-neighbors · 3 years

Text

Rumors Only Grow (Pt 2)

Link to Part 1!

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Smut; oral (male and female receiving), unprotected sex

A/N: it’s finally here! i know a lot of you guys wanted this so in honor of the twins’ birthday, i finally got around to finishing it. happy birthday to my favorite gingers!

The Room of Requirement had quite the reputation amongst the horny teenagers of Hogwarts. You had always promised yourself that you weren’t going to stoop that low and become that desperate to need the room for a hookup, yet here you are.

As you make your way through the halls and up the stairs, you can’t stop thinking about the events that occurred in the library, reliving the feelings of Fred’s fingers inside of you and George’s mouth on you. Just the memories alone make you wet, as if you aren’t practically dripping already.

You smile and greet a few people on your walk, but thankfully, nobody stops to try and have a conversation with you.

Once you reach the seventh floor, sure enough, there are the doors to the Room of Requirement. The concept of the room amazes you; you and the twins stumbled upon it a few years ago, and it’d become very useful for getaways after pulling pranks on people. Sometimes, it was just a simple broom closet just big enough for the three of you to hide in, away from Filch. Other times, when you had something more elaborate to plan, it looked like a classroom. And as you open the door now, you feel your face turn bright red as you realize it’s taken the appearance of a dorm room, only with one, larger bed, instead of five small ones. No wonder people have used this room so often.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been standing there in awe, gazing around the room, when you here the door open behind you. You jump slighty and turn, the noise loud in the otherwise silent room.

There they are, mischievous grins on their faces as George quietly pushes the door closed.

“Quite the setup you’ve got here, Y/L/N,” Fred says, his gaze panning the room and finally landing on you, slowly looking you up and down, his desire obvious in his eyes. You look over to George, whose expression mirrors his twin’s.

You’re at a loss for words, which is definitely an unusual thing for you; after being friends with the twins for so long, you’d become rather good at quick, witty, and flirty remarks, but right now, your mind was a blank slate.

Thankfully, you don’t have to stand in the awkward, tense silence much longer, because George takes it upon himself to cross the gap between the two of you and cup your face with one hand, running his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath hitches at the touch and you immediately crave more.

“You were making quite the scene in the library,” he says, quietly, “I’m surprised you didn’t get us caught.”

Fred comes up behind him, carefully watching how you respond to George’s touch.

“Why don’t you take her over to the bed, George? I think she’d be more comfortable there,” Fred says, looking you up and down once more.

“Fantastic idea, Fred. I was thinking exactly the same thing.”

You’re sure that the twins can hear your heart pounding as the three of you make your way over to the bed. You climb on to it, looking over expectantly at the boys, not sure what their plan is.

The twins look at each other until George tilts his head towards you.

“Why don’t you go ahead first, Fred?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Fred replies, and turns to smirk at you. “Lay down for me, darling?”

You obey as he joins you on the bed, positioned on his knees. His fingers slide up your bare legs until they reach the hem of your skirt. He tugs both your skirt and panties down in one motion, tossing them to the side. He eyes between your legs, that damned smirk still on his lips as he wastes no time in sliding two fingers inside of you.

“Fuck,” you hiss at the sensation.

“So wet for us,” Fred murmurs softly, shifting his position so that he can lower his mouth to you. His fingers still inside of you, his tongue starts to circle your clit, and you buck your hips up as you let out a moan, your eyes shutting.

“That’s it, Y/N. We want to hear you.” You open your eyes to see George, who’s now walking around the side of the bed so that he can be closer to you. As he walks, he works at undoing the buckle of his belt, wearing a similar smirk as Fred.

You feel your orgasm building as Fred continues on you with his fingers and mouth, so you let out another moan as you tilt your head back, squeezing your eyes shut again. With your eyes still closed, you feel George taking one of your hands and wrapping it around his dick. You hear his breath hitch at your touch, but you can’t focus on him yet - not when you’re so close to finishing yourself.

“I’m so close,” you whimper, wrapping your other hand in Fred’s hair, but as soon as you speak, Fred reaches up to remove your hand from his hair as he pulls away from you.

Your other hand is still wrapped around George, and he starts to guide your hand up and down.

“Not yet, darling,” Fred says to you. You squeeze your thighs together, craving some sort of relief for yourself as you continue to stroke George, who has taken his own hand away to let you be in control.

Now being able to focus completely on George, you decide to shift your position on the bed, turning on to your side and propping yourself up on your elbow so that you can take his dick into your mouth. He groans loudly, reaching forward to put a hand on the back of your head and wrap his fingers in your hair. He starts thrusting his hips ever so slightly, following your movements so that he goes even deeper into your mouth, causing you to gag.

You swear that you hear the jangling of a belt buckle coming from Fred’s direction, and after another moment of sucking George, you feel Fred’s hands on your legs, moving them apart. Since you’re still laying on your side, he straddles one of your legs, moving the other up so that he position himself correctly, teasing the tip of his dick against your entrance until you can’t take it anymore.

You pull back from George, mostly for air, but also to glance over at Fred to say, “Put it in already.”

He grins. “So impatient, Y/N. But, if you insist.”

Fred grips your hip tightly as he pushes himself into you, both of you groaning in pleasure as he fills you.

You turn your attention back to George, who’s looking down at you with a lust-filled gaze. But instead of letting you be mostly in control this time, he puts his hand on the back of your head to hold you in place as you open your mouth to take him again.

The pleasure and sensations are almost too much to bear: George fucking your mouth while Fred begins to pound in and out of you, both of their moans filling the room. Not long after, George starts to throb in your mouth, and you know that he’s close. After a few more pumps, he releases, and you swallow everything.

“Good girl,” he praises, stepping back and pulling his boxers and pants back up as Fred continues to fuck you. You let your head fall back on the bed, moaning, knowing that you’re close, and that Fred is, too, as his thrusts get less and less controlled.

You finally orgasm hard a few moments later, Fred following your lead, both of you breathing heavily as you pull away from each other. You smile shyly at George, who grins back at you from where he’s standing next to the bed.

“Well,” Fred says, breaking the silence as he pulls his pants back up. George bends over to pick up your skirt and panties, handing them to you. You smile gratefully at him, but you really don’t want to move. You don’t even know if you’ll be able to at all.

“I suppose the rumors are true now,” Fred continues, winking at you. You bite back a grin as you lift your hips to tug your clothes back on.

“I suppose they are,” you answer, “Dare I say that it was a good thing that those rumors were started in the first place?”

“Why’s that, Y/N?” George grins, sharing a mischievous look with his twin.

“Yeah, Y/N,” Fred says, “You think we wouldn’t have ended up doing this eventually anyway?”

You’re not sure how to answer, but hearing Fred say that definitely makes you feel some type of way. George helps you up off the bed, and while your legs are definitely shaky, you can walk - for now, that is.

You walk side by side through the halls headed towards the common room. Fred and George had both assured you more than once before you left the Room of Requirements that it wasn’t too obvious that you been doing what you’d been doing, but then again, it’s not like the rumors haven’t already been going around.

“There you three are!” exclaims Lee Jordan as soon as you walk into the common room. His gaze shifts between the three of you, and he raises his eyebrows. “Where the bloody hell were you?”

You glance up between the twins, who both grin and answer at the same time:

“Homework.”

#weasley twins #weasley twins x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley x reader #fred and george #fred and george weasley #weasley twins fic #weasley twins fanfiction #fred weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfiction #hp fanfiction #harry potter #fred weasley x you #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #fred weasley x y/n

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mitsukui · 3 years

Note

Hello! I have a request, if that's alright! So a george fluff smut where you were being very insecure of your body in general, and george tried his best to be as loving as he could during sex (praising, kissing every spot, being very gentle) and trying to prove to you that to him, you are the most beautiful person that he would ever love hshfksjf im so soft for georgie but yeah here's a rough idea! thank you 🥺

Hey, anon! Hope you’re doing well ✨ Of course that’s alright! Please, feel free to request whatever you want, whenever you want to. I’m always here, ready to make you guys happy somehow! I loved this request, and it hit me so hard because I’m honestly so insecure about my own body 🥺 I hope this can make you feel better somehow and, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here! Thank you for the request! Sending you all the love in the universe ❤️

Explicit content below!

He felt your walls clenching around the only finger he had inserted in you and groaned involuntarily at the sensation. His eyes fell upon your naked body, and George felt his cock twitching inside his underwear, which its fabric had a wet stain on it. With precum freely leaking from his tip, his brain produced impure and lustful images, where you could be seen under him, one of his hands around your neck.

Although he was in a daze, caused by the way you squirmed at his touch and your breathtaking body, the young man with fiery locks furrowed his eyebrows as soon as his eyes captured your hands attempting to cover bits of your skin.

His movements suddenly came to a halt, a trail of frustrated whines escaping your lips weakly. He propped his body up by one of his elbows, and his eyes were gentle when they looked at you.

"Why do you have your hands over your body, love?"

Dizzy due to the still fresh pleasure, your eyelashes fluttered, and you opened your eyes; chocolate brown ones easily found yours, exactly like he could so easily read you whenever there was something wrong.

You did not want to say it out loud. You felt embarrassed for feeling it, and for being like that. For having that body of yours. And, deep down inside, you were afraid of saying it out loud because it could make him realize it, too.

George Weasley, the man who had lived in your dreams and heart for so long, could at last realize you were not beautiful.

You fell silent right beside him, and he was unhappy with it. A faint idea of what could be bothering you came to his mind, and a pang of pain hit his heart sharply.

As a couple who talked about every and anything, you obviously have talked about it before. He was aware of your insecurities regarding your body and your looks, even though he could not understand any of them.

In his eyes, you were magically beautiful. Ethereal,almost. Sometimes, it was hard to believe you were real, and his. There was not one single little thing he disliked about you. He adored you wholeheartedly.

George pressed his lips against your temples as he scooted closer to you. He felt the sheets underneath his body moving along with him, and the softness of it brought a certain comfort to him. But nothing compared to being close to you, being yours, and reminding you he was utterly in love with you.

He made the decision not to talk about it. He would rather show his love through his actions, the way he allowed his own hands to roam your mesmerizing body, and how he would make sure you would feel his love slipping through his lips and falling on you.

George started by doing small things, such as running his fingers over your jawline and capturing your lips onto his in a slow and slightly sloppy kiss. Self-consciousness still profoundly tormented you, but it was almost impossible to focus on anything other than his tongue swirling around yours. He knew exactly what he was doing, what he was hiding behind his thoughtful moves.

He wanted you to feel beautiful, desired, and loved because you were. He loved you so, so, so deeply.

Sloppy kissing led to some of the salivas mixed dripping down your chin. He pulled away and studied how the transparent liquid created a delicious contrast with your skin tone, and his intoxication became evident even to himself.

Your face was held by his slender fingers with the most delicate touch he could pull off, and you sighed dreamily. He could dominate you in ways you had never even imagined.

His warm tongue ran over your chin, cleaning whatever was left of your kiss before going down to your collarbones. While he nibbled your soft skin, his fingers traveled down to your hard nipples.

A gasp echoed in the bedroom you shared with him, and you obviously tried to get away from the intimate touch, fearing he would see you through your own eyes. Noticing your reactions, his two hands held you down by your hips, and he hummed against you.

One of his hands kept you in the place where he wanted you to be, and the other continued playing with your sensitive nipples. Soon enough, however, it touched your wet cunt.

As he circled your clit slowly, the initial contact from before the train wreck being restarted, you felt a bit of your worrying vanishing away. His voice whispered sweet nothings to you, and how he had been bewitched by you for so long, ever since you were two stupid teenagers in Hogwarts. Your ear shell was being lovingly caressed by words like 'I have never loved anyone as much as I love you', and 'you take my breath away by simple existing'.

He ran his thumb over your cheekbones as pleasure invaded your body, but his self-neglect somehow managed to interrupt your combination of loathing and lust. In a bold move, which you did not understand how it happened, you engulfed two of his fingers with your mouth.

Once more, his cock twitched, and he moved his fingers on your clit at a new and faster speed. At that moment, though, there was nothing more important than making you feel his love; he could take care of his erection later.

You moaned against his fingers, your tongue running all over his milky and lightly calloused skin, and your cheeks being hollowed to create a bit of pressure.

It did not take long until you were cumming on his fingers, your orgasm blanking anything negative and self-deprecating that existed inside you.

Automatically, when you were back to Earth after your high, you used your hands to cover your nude and trembling body. It did not go unnoticed by him, but he chose to finally use his words.

"My love, please, do understand this: I adore the very parts of you that you have forgotten how to love."

Masterlist!

Tag list! ❤️ @efyra @writingsomewrongs @pineapplesandpinas @ronweaselysslut @fiction-is-the-new-reality @hufflepuff5972

#george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley smut #george weasley #harry potter imagine #harry potter smut #🌼 — personal: writings

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wandsandwheezes · 3 years

Text

NASCAR III | G.W

WARNINGS // 6.9k // SMUT 18+, George x Reader // Fred x unnamed OC, Angry Fred, Racer!George, light angst, fighting, rough sex, soft sex, breeding kink af, mentions of alcohol, cars, sex, possession, praise kink, a (tiny) amount of degradation, oral, unprotected sex, one ass slap.

A/N // the series that nobody expected to become a series has now officially done just that. @darthwheezely and I do be hoes for these racer boys xoxo 🏎🦋 ILYSM PHIA MWAH <333

“Fred, have you seen my jumper?”

“Yeah, it’s on the bed, baby” he called. Fred was not often a meticulous man, but (as Lee said) ‘if the fit called for a bit of work, it was always worth it.’

And to Fred, going to a press conference with his exceptionally hot fiancé warranted at least basic perfection, right?

Fred made a low whistle as she came out of the bathroom, a towel around her. “Well, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes.” She came to stand in front of him, pressing one, two, three kisses to his mouth, the flavour of fresh toothpaste still on her mouth. He hummed in contentment and wrapped his hands around her waist.

“Love, it’ll be fine, this will be my tenth, glorious win-“

“-and you almost got in a crash last time because you were being a tosser, remember?”

“Mmmm, that’s in the details,” he said softly. He searched her eyes and sighed, pulling her flush into his body.

“I promise I’ll be okay this time, you know I’m a great driver and that this isn’t anything different...I still intend on marrying you in one piece, you know.” She chuckled at that and he tilted her chin up, pressing a kiss to her forehead and murmuring:

“I love you, you know that?”

“And I love you, Freddie...even though you are a tosser.”

He slung her over his shoulder, rolling his eyes dramatically, and threw her on the bed, her giggling at the action.

“There’s my saucy little minx, now how about a pre-press test drive, yeah?...”

—

“I can’t just not go, babe.” George sighed, pushing the hair from his face, a sudden clammy feeling of his clothes against his skin indicating just how nervous he was for the up and coming press conference.

“You’re running a fever, George, I’ll call Lee and tell him that you need the rest and that–” You rambled, pressing the cool back of your hand against his forehead, then neck and chest, feeling that thin veil of sweat forming against his hot skin.

“Don’t.” He mumbled all too abruptly, cutting your flow of words short. Furrowing your brows, you looked down at him before shaking your head. He recognised the tone at which he had spat his word, immediately pulling your hand into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m sorry I snapped, I know you’re only looking out for me.”

“It’s okay, Georgie, I still think you should stay here with me.” You sighed, climbing over his legs to be sat in his lap as you breathed out softly, watching as his eyes softened only for his eyebrow to raise, a smirk soon finding his lips while his hands rested on your waist.

“Any old excuse to keep me at the hotel then, eh?” George licked his lips, pulling you closer into his chest as he eyed your expression, the giggle that fell from his lips like pure music to his ears.

“I just want you better for the race, idiot.” You rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, his lips finding your cheeks to pepper kisses there with a smug grin on his face.

“I think I could win this one you know, regardless of me being sick or not, I have a good feeling about it.” He hummed, forehead pressed against yours lovingly.

“What makes you say that?” You prodded, running your hands through the hair at the back of his head.

“I have one thing nobody else has; you.” He praised, only for you to bury your face in the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath as his hands ran up your back. “I love you so much, angel.”

“I love you too, George, more than you’ll ever know.”

—

The conference room was packed - that’s an understatement, really. Every journalist alive came to talk to the new dominators of modern NASCAR racing, George and Fred Weasley. Although, as George spitefully knew:

He was somewhere because of Fred. Again.

That familiar feeling of resentment threatened to bubble in the younger twin’s throat, and he immediately began to push it down. The fights, the mutual disgust and disdain - that was done now. Ten wins for Fred should mean legitimately less than nothing but excitement for his older brother.

So why was that feeling still there?

“Hello, everyone, I’m sorry I’m late!” Fred entered from the back of the stage, nothing but glimmer (and gloat) in the elder twin’s face. Good mood Fred could always either be an impending disaster, or one of the best things the world has ever seen.

Of course he’s late, he’s always late, George thought, before guilt immediately settled in.

Fred took a bottle of water, winking playfully at the young lady who got him one, before settling in his seat next to George.

“Right then, questions?” Fred boomed, that familiar sunshine of a smile very evident on his face. The man behind them, George’s manager was directing questions, and George swallowed at what questions would appear.

“This is for Fred, do you predict another victory in this race?” The journalist asked.

Fred leaned a bit forward in his seat and dipped his mouth into the microphone:

“Does the pope wear a big hat, love?”

George however sniggered to himself at the question, holding back a laugh at Fred’s answer. Of course he would answer in the cockiest way known to man, only lighting a fire under the younger twin’s arse to kick into gear and take the baby driver down a few pegs.

“Something funny, Georgie?” Fred turned his head slightly to the side, the smile still there, but dark eyes venturing into icier territory.

“Nothing, Brother, just think you should remember there is always tough competition, no matter how cocksure you are.” George murmured loud enough into the microphone for his words to reverberate around the room, some reporters eyeing each other before vigorously taking notes.

Fred had been taking a sip of his water and nearly choked, eliciting a “sorry everyone!” into the microphone. He gave George a brief side eye, but no - he wasn’t going to let him ruin his moment again. They’ve moved past this, George can have his own fun, why couldn’t he be a little confident for a change?

“Hi, this question is for George,” Fred only heard that much before a brief but very definite prickle of resentment tingled at his skin. He started to feel a bit warm but was determined to brush it off, turning towards George a bit.

“You’ve had a fantastic season these past couple years, and although you’ve lost the past ten races, you still stick to the top five - will we get our own Crimson Wonder back, or is that Fred’s title now?”

George held back on his instinct to bite at his brother’s ego, instead taking a sip of water to collect his thoughts before speaking, his mind trailing back to the words he had said this morning; ‘I have a good feeling about this one’.

“Fred and I both train hard, as does every other racer out on that track,” George swallowed thickly before continuing his sentence, “But I think my own winning streak is far from over, who knows, as you say, you may get your Crimson Wonder back yet.”

Fred attempted to register and probably stop the inherently blank expression on his face, but honestly? It was too much. Yes, George was great, and yes, he was proud of him but.

Why was there a deeply unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach? Twintuition as they called it was something not out of the ordinary at all - but why was it that somewhere in the back of his mind he just felt this...this negative foresight.

There was one thing Fred didn’t like more than avocados (Fred hated avocados) and that was losing.

“My baby brother, so inspirational isn’t he? Gets it from my mum, absolutely.” Fred curled his lips into his mouth, gnawing on his bottom lip, in complete understanding of what he just said. The reporters didn’t have to know that any time he brought up their age or said my mum instead of our mum, it kind of lit a match in George.

In short, Fred knew exactly what he was doing. And George didn’t really like that, but he wasn’t about to stoop to Fred’s level and ruin his public imagery, not with his wife-to-be and his sister-in-law-to-be watching and murmuring to each other with pained faces: they knew the tension was there too, of course they had.

“I think we should leave the rest of the heat for rubber burning on the track.” The moderator cut in, taking final questions from the press aimed at the others on the panel, letting the twins simmer in their own jealousy toward one another as the conference came to a close.

The boys’ demeanours had completely shifted, George staying behind to take pictures and leave autographs for fans, smile on his face and a sense of pride in his chest, while Fred had made a swift exit in just the way he arrived, looking absolutely miserable.

—

“Georgie,” Fred called out from the locker rooms, “just what the fuck was that?” His bare chest red while he angrily scrambled to get his uniform on.

“Please,” George scoffed, zipping his uniform up calmly, before pushing his bag into his locker with ease, “I could ask you the same question.”

“I was actually trying to give the press what they wanted, a good show, you, on the other hand, just wanted to be a proper arsehole in front of everyone.” He slammed his locker door shut, his knuckles on his hand against it surely white now from childish rage.

George closed his locker with force, not so much anger, running a hand through his hair before picking up his helmet, his tongue truly in his cheek, the angel on his shoulder begging him to stay quiet while the devil paralleled telling him that it was about time he spoke his feelings. “I’m the arsehole? Check your own actions first, mate.”

He breathed but he wasn’t done, the words flowing like vomit as he finally let go all of the bottled aggression, “You don’t know the first thing about being a racer, how fucking tiring it is and you use it against me like its something I’m not good at and I’m fucking tired of it.”

George went to continue, but the guilt of spitting every thought in his brain suddenly overcame him, instead he clutched at his helmet a little tighter, taking a deep breath before muttering as he walked away, “Good luck out there, you’ll need it.”

Fred stood there watching him walk away, something a bit more unfair that self-loathing and resentment lingering in his chest. It was dizzying, it was a feeling he altogether hated and actively tried to pretend he didn’t have.

Fred Weasley, in short, was guilty.

—

The Arizona sun was beating down on the track, everyone watching on with baited breath as each car lined up on the Phoenix Raceway, engines revving in anticipation of the start of the race. Fred was clutching at his steering wheel tightly, blinkered only on one thing; winning this one. George however, knew the racers he was up against; some of the best in the NASCAR cup and even some that had been driving as long as he had been alive, was lucky to find himself there, taking a deep breath. George wasn’t a religious man but in that moment he was praying to whatever god to grant him some good luck.

The green flag waved, signalling the start of the race, each car zooming by as the engines roared. The race was a tough one and everyone watching on knew that. The first ten or so laps went just as smoothly as planned, a backhaul crash in the 18th lap just missing the twins, but nevertheless cutting the number of racers pretty much immediately in half.

George grew more confident as he crept up the rankings, sitting comfortably in about 6th place for a grand majority of the race, while Fred trailed much behind him in about 8th place. The tension of the conference had truly stumped the older twin, pushing him to want to be up in the top dogs, but to no avail, every attempt was blocked for him.

The final three laps, George was in fourth and Fred was nowhere to be seen, well sat in his 11th place, seething at his inevitable loss. The younger twin was content with his placing, watching the third place drop down to 5th pushing him into the top 3. George swore he felt every single beat of his heart as he zoomed past the lap line. Two to go. Third place was enough for George, especially in a race like this. He zoomed past the lap line again. White Flag. Last chance.

In a flash, a car from behind George pushed forward, striking the first place car, sending three cars spiralling off the track leaving behind only dust sparks and fire in their tacks. It didn’t click for George that he had passed the finish line in 1st place until it blared through his headset.

“I fucking did what?” He shouted as he continued speeding around the track, the confirmation of his win ringing through his ears as he let out a loud but satisfied yell, the stress of weeks of losses finally leaving him in an exhale, welcoming the new feeling of pride.

Fred in the heat of the crash had fallen to 12th place, pushing him to be the last of all the cars on the track past the finish line - a loss he was not ready to accept no matter how much pride beamed from him hearing the news that the winner had been his own twin brother.

—

“George, how does it feel to have a trophy back?”

“Honestly, it feels so surreal - I’m so grateful for my team, crew, and absolutely amazing fiancée, Y/N - I love you so much, baby,” he shouted over the noise, cameras completely swamping the victory stage and hallway down to the bar. He had everything he could’ve wanted, you, a real win again, happy sponsors - but there was one thing missing.

Fred. Where was Fred? Did it really matter? He knew he hadn’t placed very far, but surely he wouldn’t be that angry would he? But then - no. No, George won, he deserved to win again after Fred had been hogging all the sunny days and he was still supportive. So where was his twin now? Even after everything.

He stopped you on his arm and said: “actually, there is one more person I really do have to thank.” He faced directly towards the camera, you utterly confused.

“Thank you, Freddie, for being the best supportive big brother a guy could ask for. You’ve always been a winner to me.” And with a shaky swallow, knowing he wasn’t here, knowing he probably could give a shit whether George thanked him or not, he went off with you on his arm to have a drink.

God knows he needed it.

—

The older twin sat in the lockers, his elbows resting on his knees, his bare arms and chest tensing periodically with pure and spiteful rage. What the absolute fuck had he done differently? He had been on his highest alert, his most pristine focus, what went wrong?

He didn’t crash, he didn’t bitch and moan to his pit crew, he didn’t fly off the handle - yet - so why did he get the curt, “I’m sorry, son, we all lose sometimes,” from Vinnie, his new manager like it was just normal.

Fred Weasley didn’t lose. Especially not after a ten time winning streak, no, he refused.

So there he sat, knowing his fiancé was probably making excuse after excuse as to why her husband had fled the cameras and the questions, why he wasn’t congratulating his brother on his fantastic win - but he didn’t have the energy to feel guilt. All he felt was loathing. He barely didn’t register the soft clicking of his soon to be wife’s heels clacking against the tile floor.

“Fred Weasley, what the fuck are you doing naked in the locker room, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said with great exasperation. She looked stunning, in that pretty little two piece skirt and black crop number, not at all like a woman frantically in search of her formula 1 MIA husband.

“You look great, sweetheart,” he mumbled, barely looking up at her before getting up and turning to his locker, getting out his change of clothes. She watched his back ripple with tension and at the sight alone felt her thighs break for a second.

“So were you planning on telling me where you were or just sulking in here?”

“I was taking a shower, actually...I don’t get why you’re so pissed at me.” He snapped, not even bothering to turn around.

“I’m ‘pissed’ at you because your brother loves you and you’re in here acting like a five year old who got his teddy taken away from him.” She retorted. Fred turned around then, slamming the locker door shut for the second time that day, the sound echoing in the bathroom.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” He seemed to punctuate every word in the sentence, but his voice very quiet - too quiet.

“You’re - just get your clothes on and knock it off, Weasley,” she scoffed, trying to walk off the very minor but very palpable fear she felt, and the evident arousal pooling in her thighs. Fred, unfortunately, knew this, and in Fred fashion, was feeling quite a good many ways about this.

“Get your ass back here, right now, sweetheart,” he snapped, his volume gaining to a low roar. When she kept on walking to the door, his long legs loped to a brisk walk in front of the doorway, right in front of her. She didn’t realize that she was holding her breath for a second until she exhaled, and his thumb came up to grace her bottom lip.

“Open,” he said quietly, and then she did listen, her lips opening up to his thumb immediately. He always did this mannerism, when he said open he’d open his mouth too, almost showing her how she needed to be before usually saying “theeere, it is” but right now, he was silent, his mouth pressed in a thin line.

But then she bit. And hard. Pushing him off her and making him gasp, her heels clicked down the tile as fast as she could walk. But Fred wasn’t going to let her get away that easy. In an instant he threw his elongated and toned arm out to grab her waist, pulling her back into the wall, caging her in his hold.

“You’re being an absolute twat, you know that?” She spat. He delicately slapped the side of her face and squeezed her cheeks to form an o.

“And you’re being a prissy little bitch, but I’m still here, aren’t I?” He said harshly, scanning her eyes before yanking her in for a kiss. She immediately released a desperate moan into his mouth and he slid his hand through her hair and all the knots and tangles possible to reach the back of her head. His other hand slid down up her skirt to grope her thigh, hoisting her legs around his waist.

��You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad, I swear,” she breathed out, before his lips messily met hers. He always kissed with his jaw, she noticed that, when he’d hit his strong jaw out to move with her and nuzzle her face and then she always moaned like she was doing now.

In an instant he was carrying her back towards the shower, the shuffle of so many movements causing the towel around his waist to fall off.

“You ready to take a winner, baby?”

—

After a couple of drinks it was safe to say that you and George had gotten a little closer than you usually would have sober. He wasn’t even tipsy, feeling no more than the pride of his win but even with that he wasn’t going to ignore the fact that his girl was practically purring for him while clinging to his arm. You were so desperate to pull him in for a kiss, hell you probably would have let him have you in the hall out of pure lust for your husband-to-be.

It had been so long since you’d seen him smile the way he was now, pride radiating off his skin alongside the heat of his lingering fever, making you remember that not only had he won the hardest race he’d ever driven, but he’d done so while sick. A smirk spread over your lips as you went to push up on your toes, lips pecking a gentle kiss to his jaw.

“What’s that for, angel?” He smiled down at you, his lips now ducking down to press a loving kiss to your forehead.

“Just a taste of how I’m gonna congratulate my winner later.” You mumbled playfully as his arm snuck around your waist to pull you in tighter, leaning to whisper in your ear as his lips grazed over your earlobe.

“Guess I should think about getting you to bed then, yeah? That what you want bub?” He pulled away from your ear with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

You nodded bashfully, letting him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the rosy hue on his cheeks apparent just from being close to you, in this moment. George didn’t care about the press or his manager or really even the win anymore, not when he had you right in front of him, begging him short of being on your knees.

He made an excuse, whatever it had to be to get you alone, to get away from the champagne, cameras and chatting. His jacket was draped over your shoulders as you found your way out of the celebration lounge, giggling like teenagers as you walked hand in hand to his car, the echoes of laughter humming around the underground car park before he had you trapped between his body and the passenger side door.

“I can’t wait to get you back to our room.” He mumbled, lips just hovering inches away from yours. His hand slipped just under the hem of your top, his hot touch sending sparks flying through you.

“The things I want you to do to me, Weasley.” You breathed out, hand reaching behind his head to pull his lips down to yours, letting him leave no gaps between you, him and his car.

“Oh yeah?,” he murmured breathlessly, nose knocking against yours, “Like what, princess? Don’t be shy, we have a whole journey for you to run that pretty mouth of yours.”

“You’ll ruin me one day if you keep talking like that, George.”

“I think I’ll ruin you tonight instead, love.”

—

“Freddie, please-“

“No, I’m not stopping until you cum on me, princess, I deserve that much,” he snarled, his cock rippling through her over and over. He had intended on fucking all his anger out on her ever since he pushed her into the shower, everything only mouths and melded hands.

“Feels - feels so good, Freddie” she whined, her legs barely able to sustain being wrapped around him. His hips whipcracked into her at an entirely new angle, prompting her to mewl and claw at his back like a cat.

“Oh my poor baby, can she not take my cock? Would another racer do a better job at - “ he pushed deeper into that new spot, her mewls and whines turning to wanton cries. “ - stretching you out instead of me?”

“No one can do this, Fred, I promise, love,” she murmured, her eyes rolling vacantly to the back of her head. He sensed her climax was arriving soon, she was like butter under his hot embrace.

“Look at me,” he growled, squeezing her face and tilting it upwards. “I want to see my prize when she makes a mess everywhere, you hear me, princess?” Her widened eyes bore into his deep chocolate ones and when she finished, she truly could not look at anything else except him, it was always him and only him that made her feel like this.

“Thaaaat’s it, baby, look at you, being such a dirty little girl for me. You like making messes for me, princess?” He cooed, his soft and caring tone a total opposite to the way he pulled out and slammed back in, making her scream and be flush against him.

“M-mhm,” she murmured, Fred shaking his head as he chuckled, carrying her dripping out of the shower, still inside her. “Do you want me to take you off?” He whispered, the anger still in his throat, but...she would always be more important. Making her feel safe was always important, even in the worst of his rage. Fortunately, she nodded at him and kissed his jaw, a soothing gesture that always meant she loved him, everything was okay, he didn’t hurt her. He smoothed the top of her wet hair down and gave the top of her head a kiss, his ring finger stroking against the centre of her spine.

But then, a certain thought excited him blackly.

“Baby…who put that ring on you?” He asked pensively. No, he didn’t win that idiotic fucking race, and no, he didn’t beat his brother in this race but - he still won her. He suddenly felt his dick twitch deep inside her and he groaned, clenching his jaw at the sudden awareness of her engagement ring digging into his shoulder. He fully stopped looking at the ground and the towel on the locker hanger, reaching for it and dropping it flat on the ground.

“F-Freddie?” She asked weakly.

“Mhm?”

“What - what are you doing?” She released a high pitch whine at the feeling of Fred twitching again, and at that he flipped her over on the towel, backside up, his cunt and his ass being fully presented to him like that. And then he moaned, his eyes shutting after and his jaw rolling when he saw her buck her ass up to try and meet him wherever he was behind her.

“God, you are just a good for nothing little Formula 1 whore aren’t you?” He breathed out, his hands sliding to cup her ass and squeezing, relishing in the scarlet rash of skin that came and went with a blink of an eye.

“You’d like to think so,” she quietly quipped, his hands suddenly freezing on her ass.

“Oh...is that so? Well, then…” and at that he slowly began to squeeze again until she was squirming, then bringing his hand down to the centre of her ass, a loud smack echoing in the room. She cried into the towel and bucked her ass towards him once again.

“Yes, yes, I’m a Formula 1 whore,” she wept, Fred chuckling and positioning his cock at her entrance, just barely letting his tip brush her cunt.

“What if I just stayed here, hmm? Didn’t even let you have my cock, just gave you a taste of what it would be like to get fucked by me and go use another checkered flag slut instead, that sound good, baby?” He said crisply, trying not to let the tortured feeling of his cock get to him.

“Fred, I-“ and with a final growl, Fred pushed himself to the brim inside her once more. She cried out his name into the towel, his free hand not bracing himself from behind pushing her head into the towel. He was devouring every noise that came from her mouth, mostly strained cries and pants that registered with every crack of his hips inside her. He felt her near her release again, his as well, his hips losing tempo.

“Gonna marry you and stuff you with aaaall my babies, isn’t that right princess? Gonna make my trophy wife swell up, you won’t be able to even fathom seeing that pretty pussy of yours in the morning” He panted, groaning at the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in her - in his - cunt.

“Please, wanna be so full, of your...of your babies, Fred,” she whimpered, his name falling from her lips like alphabet soup as she, with a final rock of her ass against him, came undone around him. He gripped her hips and with a sharp “I love you, fuck” followed her in the same way, his hips rolling ever so gently back into her to soothe their highs.

After a moment he pulled out of her, dismantling the baby hairs sticking to her forehead out the way, pressing kiss after kiss there.

“Weasley, you got any car plush toys on you by chance?” She quipped, prompting a grin from Fred and a chaste kiss to her lips and nose.

“No, but the Babies R Us near home might…”

—

The second you were parked up, George had his hand snaked around the back of your neck pulling you in to peck your lips over and over, warm and comforting giggles slipping from your lips between every kiss. The trip up to your room took twice the time it would usually take, stopping frequently to evade the hotel staff, as well as missing your floor entirely in the elevator; too distracted by the taste of his lips and the way his hands gripped desperately at your hips.

Once well inside your hotel room, you found yourself underneath him, hair sprawled out beneath you as he marvelled at your beauty. A toothy grin spread across his lips before his head ducked down to press a kiss just below your ear, sucking a deep purple mark against your warm skin as a giggle erupted through his throat, the vibrations causing you to do the same, hands pressed against his shoulders to push him away.

“Good lord, woman, I love you.” He breathed out, his lips moving to press a kiss to your forehead. You sighed out a moan as his fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt, bunching the fabric up as he pushed it up your torso and over your bra, exposing the plain but gorgeous lace.

His lips soon pressed against your exposed skin, sucking mark after mark down the valley of your breasts, humming in satisfaction at the way you writhed beneath him as your hands wove through his soft, ginger locks, tousling them perfectly as you giggled together.

“You may have won today, Georgie, but I’m winning now.” You whined, keeping him pulled close to you as his free hand snuck just underneath the hem of your skirt, fingers brushing against your sensitive clit as he swallowed each and every moan, taking pleasure in slipping the flimsy lace to the side to sink his fingers into you quickly and with no mercy, letting you chant his name as you begged for more.

It didn’t take much for him to oblige, hardly pulling away from you to slip his cock free, teasing your entrance for a moment before he was pushing slowly into you, letting you get used to the feeling of the first few inches, only for him to pull back out, chuckling darkly at the way you writhed against the sheets. “Baby please, don’t tease me like that.”

He pouted mockingly, dipping his head down to press a slow and intimate kiss to your lips, nose nudging against yours before he mumbled into the kiss, letting you lean into it. “As you wish, princess.”

Almost all at once, you felt him move your hips to the right position, continuing to tease you as he sank slowly into you, not daring to pull away again as he eyed the way your face contorted with pleasure, your hands slipping under the thin t-shirt, he wore, pulling it over his head and tossing it across the room, your nails dragging down the freshly exposed skin, pulling a groan from him.

“I’m gonna fuck you so deep, bub, gonna make you scream and give you a baby.” He groaned, hands pressing your head down to the mattress as he cradled it, hot breath fanning over your face as his slow thrusts pulled moan after moan from you.

His strong arm hooked underneath you, pulling you up and into his chest, as his hips continued in pushing in and out of you at the most antagonising pace. He smirked at the way your head immediately fell to rest on his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut from the new angle.

“Bet you’re loving this aren’t you? Not so bold anymore, angel.” His gravelly voice rumbled through your ear, hand gripping that little bit tighter as he felt your small shallow breaths growing deeper at the intensely slow lovemaking you were far from expecting tonight.

“I’m still bold.” You whispered, nudging forward to pull his earlobe between your teeth before peppering sloppy, wet kisses along his neck.

“Funny one, love.” He smirked, beginning to pick the pace up a notch, enough to bring the hanging release down on you, pushing you to be clenching around him as you begged for it. “I knew you’d like that.”

He had a way of completely dumbfounding you, making you lost for words, finding yourself against the sheets fully again, this time he had hooked your legs over his shoulders only to lean down and press his lips to yours, all the time his skilled fingers toyed with your clit.

You felt as if every sense had been awoken, stimulated by his very touch like a fire had been lit around you, pulling you into the embrace of the flames as you found yourself screaming his name, the inevitable high falling over you.

“That’s it, baby, doing so good for me…” He breathed heavily, his lips pressing to your forehead as he continued to ride out your high, his own release painting your walls as he fucked it into you, pulling true on his promise of filling you up.

You felt so full, his love washing through you from head to toe as he lazily kissed you, slipping your legs off his shoulders to pull you back into his arms, keeping himself bottomed out inside of you.

“I’m dead serious about giving you a baby, princess.” He chuckled, hand trailing up and down your back as he traced languid shapes into your soft skin.

“Good, I’m dead serious about having your baby.”

—

Fred knocked on the door, his foot tapping on the carpet outside George’s hotel room. He was always a fidgety man, but today would be all too different for the eldest Weasley twin.

He knocked once more, altogether considering just going home and leaving a lengthy but probably nonsense voicemail, if not entirely fueled by alcohol then by sheer force of nature that was his fiancé alone.

He had decided on giving up, his legs stretching as he turned around. But then the door opened, the equally messy haired ginger behind it looking so much calmer and more serene than Fred ever could.

“Heya, Georgie,” Fred breathed out. George would never have said it out loud, but Fred looked like absolute death. He could tell his older brother had gotten little to no sleep, his eyes sunken in. He knew Fred was hurting, and George never was one to rub it in. If anything, George would always be the one who understood him the most, they rarely ever had to apologize to each other for things like this, their souls simply understanding when pain was evident.

“Morning, Freddie…” George spoke warmly, crossing his arms over his chest for a moment, smiling lazily at his twin as he pondered his next move. “D’you wanna come in?”

“Yeah...yeah, that’d be nice,” he swallowed, smiling softly at his slightly younger (but in many ways, much older) twin.

George stepped aside, letting his brother in as he shut the door behind him. He rubbed his hands together, a smile that rounded his cheeks on his face as he sensed the awkwardness in the room. This wasn’t like them at all. “Everyone missed you yesterday, Fred, parties aren’t the same without you.”

“As in, no one drank all the rum and Coke at the party without me is what I’m hearing?” He cracked a small smile, attempting to avoid as much eye contact with Georgie that wasn’t necessary.

“George, I’m so sorry.” He said softly, his jaw stilling.

“You don’t have to apologise, Fred.”

“No, but I do. I...I know how special being behind the wheel is to you, and you’re right. I don’t know what it means to win, at least not like you, and...George, you’re my best friend, stupid.” He aggressively wiped under his eyes. “I want to be happy for you and lately I haven’t even been thankful for you and that isn’t fair, mate, I...I love you. So much.”

“I feel like I was losing you there, Freddie, I’ve hardly seen you, we don’t talk unless it’s a press conference and just… Fuck I hate this, I miss being able to call you and talk about all the dumb things we can do together.” George sighed, looking up to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling.

Fred’s, however, were already hitting the ground. “I hate it too, Georgie...I hate it so much. It’s fun, being a racer like you - with you - but I just...I want to fix your tires again, man” he tearfully chuckled, watching George do the same. “I want to say stupid shit like ‘baby brother, your blinker fluid is out’ over the headset and listen to you cuss me out, and I want to be able to know I’m still on your team at the end of the day.” He curled his lip inward. “That’s all I’ve wanted. Is to be on your team.”

“You have no idea what it’s like to win without you, when you’re out there making sure that everything is okay I just know my big brother is there looking out for me and I miss it, I miss telling everyone that it was you who made it possible, Freddie, you’re my star man.” George smiled, scratching his arm nervously, wanting nothing more than for things to be like old times.

Fred let out a breathy laugh, his eyes still brimming with fresh tears. “I’m the last one to thank, you big wanker, I don’t drive the damn thing constantly, that’s all you and your foolishness.” He swallowed. “I just...if you’ll have me back, I already talked to the Wood Brothers and everything but um...there’s a deal where I would be able to also drive once a month or so, and be your Pit Crew Pit Bull the other races. If that was okay with you - I want to be there with you again.” His knee bounced in the silence, his guilt and fear bouldering in his throat.

“I’d want nothing more than to have you back, I think it’ll be good for you to still stay driving, you have to get that adrenaline fill somewhere… I don’t say it enough, but I’m proud of you, proud of what you’ve achieved.” George smiled, the toothy grin brightening up the room as the awkwardness seemed to fade. “Even though you do become a cocky bastard sometimes.”

Fred scoffed and rolled his eyes. “One does not become a cocky bastard, Georgie-kins, one is a cocky bastard...also, I have to be,” he said getting up and moving to where George was sitting. “if I’m going up against my snot-nosed little brother who’s getting married and is going to expect me to babysit for a thousand hateful children,” he waggled his eyebrows and threw a pillow at him. “But thank you...I mean that. You know you’re easily the best on that track every time. Every time. I’m...I'm proud to be your twin, Georgie.”

“I don’t know how I survived without your brilliant humour gracing us all, Freddie, I truly missed the inspiring wit,” George chuckled, gently nudging his twin with his fist, “After all, you’re not too bad of a brother to have, not everyone can be me but you’re as close as anyone’s gonna get.” He smirked, eyebrow raised as he looked over to his twin.

“I truly am so distraught I did not destroy you in the womb when I had the shot, but here’s to the wish anyway,” full on slamming George in the face with the pillow and howling at the action. “Top that, bitch,” he barked.

“It’s on now.” George laughed, throwing the pillow back at his brother, sending an eruption of laughter echoing around the hotel room, the two boys flinging cushions around like there was no tomorrow.

But the laughter didn’t end, only continuing as loud roars and giggles as time passed. You found yourself swinging your legs out of bed, trudging towards the source of the noise, only to find feathers everywhere and the twins laughing together in a childlike manner. “Could the two of you be any more loud?”

“Sorry, baby… didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Yeah, sorry, Y/N.” Fred chimed in.

“You’re damn lucky it isn’t early, Weasley.” You sighed, rolling your eyes as you shuffled off towards the warm embrace of the morning shower, thankful to see the twins as they should be, happy and together once again.

A/N // so phia and i have pretty much decided that we’re gonna keep this going so... part IV coming sooooon ;))))

taglist // @slytherinsunrise @gcdricreads @theweasleysredhair @vogueweasley @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @loony-loopy-lupinn @rip-us @hopemalfoyweasley @whizboingies @pansydaisy @darthwheezely @lumos-barnes @starlightweasley @valwritesx @weelittleweasley

#NASCAR Series #george weasley fic #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley smut #george weasley angst #fred weasley fic #fred and george #gred and forge #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x oc #harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter writing #harry potter smut

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sweetberrysmooch · 3 years

Text

HC: Call This The ‘Can This Man Cook’ Section

(….. I don’t think these men can cook 😔)

First post pog :D I wrote a majority of these super late at night, so please forgive and let me know of any mistakes you find <3 Also, it’s a little long lol

Characters: Dream, George, SapNap, Badboyhalo, Wilbur, Technoblade, Philza, Quackity, Fundy, Schlatt.

Warnings: None, except for a kinda risqué comment in Philza’s. Oh and I guess there’s mentions of eating meat in case someone wants the warning :3

Song Recommendation: I Love You So- The Walters

Hella fluffy! Hope you enjoy <3

From best to worst:

#1: BadBoyHalo-

Bad is the best at cooking on the server. He is the creme of the crop, absolute top one percent, king shit at cooking.

He can cook, bake, and temper chocolate perfectly, what more could you want?

His favorite to-go recipes are cheesy garlic bread and a special spicy chicken and rice recipe which he typically makes when the boys are over at his house for the night. When he’s with you he goes for something a little smoother, some mulled sweet berry cider with a smoked cod fillet, eaten under the light of candles while you quietly chat about life and your fellow friends. It’s always one of Bad’s most anticipated hangouts, and he’s very careful about planning when it comes to those days.

While he appreciates being complimented on his food or his skills, deep down he wants to have someone to cook and share his knowledge with so the cooking process becomes much richer. He’s cooked for so long and learned so much, but it means nothing if he can’t share it with another person. The moment you come to him and ask him for help on any kind of recipe, he’ll drop almost everything to help you.

Side note; he absolutely carried lunch and dinner for his fellow DTeam members. While Sapnap would mostly take over breakfast, Bad would be hounded by begging puppy looks from these adult men who couldn’t cook and kind of just sigh and get the ‘kiss the cook’ apron ready. It’s not like he hates it or anything, but the endearing factor kinda slips off after a few years of adult men groveling.

(Bad’s hands rest over yours, dwarfing them entirely as he helps you cut the pasta sheet straightly. “There you go!” He encourages, squeezing your hand gently and stepping away, moving back to dice the vegetables on the cutting board next to you. A comfortable silence falls, and with it comes something in Bad’s heart softening. The worries and exhaustion in his mind ease, and he slips into a contented routine of finely chopping and slicing. It’s been a while since he’s felt so calm. There’s nothing that can ruin this-

The front door slams open. Footsteps walk in and approach the kitchen and you both hear it,

“Baaaaaaaaad.” Bad cringes, taking a step back.

“Baaaaaaaaaaad, we’re hungry.” Sapnap.

“Yeah Bad, feeeeeeeed uuuuuuus.” George.

And then, from around the door frame, a white mask peeks in. Nobody says a word, but you can feel Bad deflate next to you like let go balloon.

“It’s alright, big guy.” You laugh, grabbing his forearm and leaning up against him. His sad puppy eyes make you smile a little, and you try to reassure him. “We can hang out alone another time. Let’s keep working on the pasta.” He sighs, but still returns your smile. “Yeah, another time.”)

#2: Philza

Sigh…. he can cook. Not quite as good as Bad can, but better than Quackity. A solid second place. It stems mainly from being so knowledgeable that he just knows and has tried so many different foods, but since he doesn't actually do much cooking, I'm making him a flaky second place.

Doesn’t mind cooking, but doesn’t love doing it either. He’s always focused on so many different things that he’ll forgo eating to keep working on what he’s doing. He mostly cooks for Techno and Ranboo or the few guests (you) they seem to receive. Makes great stew, and even better roasted chicken, is absolutely immaculate when it comes to cooking bird.

He didn’t teach Wilbur or Techno shit! I wish I could say it’s because he wanted to but just couldn’t, but he was literally like “hmm. Im a little busy now, maybe next year” every year!! But, this being said, if you ask him to make something with you or teach you how to cook a particular dish, he will agree to help you. Old age has really mellowed him out, and after certain events, he realizes he needs to stay a bit closer to those he cares about from now on.

He likes sweets well enough, and will always thank you for any gifts you make for him. Along with growing older, he’s had time to lose his pickiness he had in his youth. If he does end up cooking with you, he’ll prefer doing the harder recipes over easy ones. He will lose it laughing if it turns out bad, so don’t worry about any disappointment (his children make up enough of that ^^).

(“Now,” Phil starts, washing his hands quickly as you wait for him next to the cutting board. “Pufferfish needs to be prepared perfectly, or we will die when we eat it. But I don’t need to explain to you how a pufferfish works, now do I?”

When you shake your head no, he comes up behind you, tarnished wings bound and hair pulled up in a pony tail.

“The meat of a pufferfish is very delectable, and much better with a glass of wine.” He grins cheekily, “ If this works out well, which I’m sure it will, dinner will be delicious.”

It falls quiet for a second, and as your hesitantly looking over the fish that may be your last, you gasp when you feel him press up against you back and rest his chin on your shoulder. “Maybe there’ll be other delicious things to eat as well,” He murmurs into you ear, before leaning back and busting out laughing. Your face feels stupidly hot. Dilfza quest activated.)

#3: Quackity-

Quackity:

Quackity can cook. I know!! I’d say he’s like the third best cooker on the list. And he’s not half bad at baking either.

He likes making up stupid bad recipes and trying them out with you, even if at the end of it the one of you up chucks your damned creations the hour after. Despite his reigning need for chaos though, he knows how to make a decent amount of recipes and strives for praise when he’s actually putting forward effort. He’ll arrange little dinner dates (“A handsome man and his very pretty friend, good food made by yours truly, and La Chona, what do you say, baby?”) and will sit there with a 🥺 look on his face until you tell him if you liked it or not.

He tries to act like he’s unaffected by your words, but even a small, “That was really good.” will make him turn red and giggle like a schoolgirl. He tries to play it off, but it’s easy to tell he loves the complements. Will also never tell you anything you make is bad. You are a deity descended upon minecraft Earth and he is but your prettiest disciple who will uphold your honor and treat you like you should be treated!!!! But he’ll then promptly choose to help you with and guide you into cooking/baking better ^^; He loves you!

As for baking, he really likes making cakes because of how simple they can be. It helps calm him down when he can just slip into bake mode and follow a recipe and make something nice at the end of it. Speaking of, he also has a sweet tooth, but not quite as bad as Techno does. Any sweets or food you make for him is always eaten, and always held in high regard. Will try to entice you into feeding him 👀👀 so watch out.

(He’s doing it again. You try to avoid looking directly at the dopey lovesick smile Quackity has on his face at the moment, but as you lift the fork up, you get a better idea.

You look at him (to which he seems to melt a little under your gaze), look at the fork, and then back to him, raising the piece of cake up to his lips. His expression turns flabbergasted and his blush deepens.

He doesn’t seem to believe you for a second, until you nudge the cake close and flash him a smile. Then it’s like a switch has been flicked; he giggles, blushing, and eats the cake right off the fork. He’s gone back to smiling that silly smile again, this time even brighter, but it’s okay. You try to ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest when he begs you for another piece.)

#4: Schlatt-

Another cooker~! He specializes with formal dinners more than anything else, and adores a good steak.

During his presidency, he didn’t cook very often. Quackity and you had to keep him fed through most of it, and the memory of watching you cook in his kitchen while he looked over work papers at his dining table leaves a mark on him, sealing a new crave for domesticity that he hadn’t ever wanted before.

Sometimes he would cook though. You, Quackity, and Tubbo would all gather around and eat together every once in a blue moon, when Schlatt was sober and calm. It feels tense at the table but also not in a way? Schlatt always seems to be chillest during dinner, a mix of the alcohol wearing off and the emphatic family feel that comes with Tubbo, Quackity, and you surrounding him.

He loves cake! It’s one of the few desserts he’ll eat, but you have to watch him closely or he’ll gorge himself of the treat. Indulge him and invite him to make a cake with you, and it will be one of the most interesting bakes of your life. How Schlatt got three eggs to stick to the ceiling is beyond you, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s completely fucking sober and hamming up his own cluelessness. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for him hiding all the other eggs around your kitchen as well. How did he get one on the top of your door without it falling when you opened it? That’s between him and god.

Overall, a good 4th place on the list.

(“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Schlatt says, deadpanned, looking you right in the fucking eyes with an undisturbed egg sitting perfectly straight on his head.

“Where are the eggs, Schlatt.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Schlatt.”

“Yes.”

The container you kept them in is completely empty on your kitchen counter, once full of eggs but now reduced to a desolate husk of its former glory. Speaking of former glories, your president turns around, arms crossed and stands there silently.

You look around. Theres one in the door handle of in the pantry, another wedged between two slices of bread in your bread box, and- oh god. On the fucking ceiling. Three, stuck to the ceiling, unmovable. After a full minute of dead silence you manage a “What the fuck have you done?”, and Schlatt turns to look.

“Oh hey. There they are.” Your mind turns into a rock, shatters, and crumbles into dust.)

#5: Dream-

Honestly if you’re looking for edible food that tastes range from ok to good Dream is your man. 5th place.

He knows a lot of ‘depression era’ type recipes just because he’s pretty homeless and his man hunts don’t allow him much time to hone his skills. Stuff like bread or mushroom stew comes easy to him after so many times of having to do it on the run. Bread is the only baking he won’t screw up.

Can cook meat well enough too, but doesn’t really do anything special to it (besides his sauces).

To elaborate: Over the unknown span of his life, he’s acquired these recipes for forgotten and questionable sauces that he’ll store in little jars and leave at your house for you to use. They’re odd, and the ingredients aren’t ever what you think might be edible, but they’re surprisingly tasty none the less. He likes to show you a new one every month or so to keep things fresh.

Pretty general about sweets, but has a severe love for chocolate, especially dark chocolate. Has never had one, but dreams about chocolate cake. It’s high on his bucket list and written another four times over.

One of his favorite things to do with you is bake, mainly because of how ruinous it always turns out. No matter your skill, Dream’s vibes decimates any luck the two of you will have while baking. It’s scientifically proven. You left the cupcakes in for a minute-JUST a minute over what they should’ve been and they came out rock solid. Dream tried to eat one anyway. Best part was watching him try to bite through the shell.)

(He thinks he’s over selling it, half-gnawing on the brown cupcake (it was supposed to be vanilla, he thought) and making stupid growls when his teeth barely break through the surface, but the feeling he gets when you start laughing hysterically next to him wipes away any negative thought he had and fills him with utter joy.

It's very late into the night, and you’re both a little loopy, but all the while you still lean against him as you giggle, the spot tingling where your hand rests on his arm.

His heart thumps crazily, before sinking. Oh god. He’s in love with you.)

#6: Technoblade-

Knows a lot, but very little. He can cook the meat perfectly fine, but there’s a difference between being cooked and tasting good. He doesn’t know how to season them. Salt is the bare minimum you get.

6th place ^^; sorry king.

He’s good with potatoes though. I like to think that the countless hours spent potato farming had to account for something. He likes having cheese and butter on them every once in a while, but for the most part just eats them salted like an animal. It’s practically a show to watch him eat a cooked potato in three bites without anything but salt on it.

Big man loves food though, even if he doesn’t eat like it. Steak and cooked fish are high on his list of foods, but only if it’s cooked by Philza. And eventually you fall into his “I trust to eat this from you” category as well, but he has a special place in his heart for Phil’s cooking. Rabbit stew is at the very top.

He also eats a lot, being 6’10 and 200 something pounds of muscle, gotta consume quite a bit to keep him moving.

As for the sweeter variety of food, he’s got a massive sweet tooth. The moment you make him an apple pie or honey candy or anything of the like, he’s immediately enamored with you. Sweet things are hard to come by on the smp, especially with how far out he lives, but it’s a secret weakness of his that is very easily exploitable.

(You’ll be the death of him, he thinks, watching you closely as you trudge your way through the freshly fallen snow towards his house. Your normal pack is lighter than it usually looks, and he worries that you may slip and hurt yourself on the ice before you make it to the door. But still, you keep walking until you're standing at his doorstep, fist raised to knock when he opens it for you.

You look surprised for a second, and then a grin splits your face and his heart races.

“I can’t stay for long,” you say, having spent at least 30 minutes to get there. “But I wanted to drop this off for you before you went out to hunt again.”

Out of the bag, you pull another smaller leather bag and hand it to him gently. It rests heavy in his palm, and for a moment he’s sure it’s ender pearls that you’ve brought him. But still he opens it, and he’s immediately taken aback by the smooth golden candies you brought him.

“They’re honey candies.” At this point you’re practically grinning. “I thought you might like some while I was making them last night.”

He doesn’t have to see his own face to feel the deep blush setting in on his cheeks and ears. You…. you’re so…… sweet. You are very…. sweet, he admits to himself, and he is very not attached to you. Not at all.)

#7: Fundy and Sapnap tie.

Fundy-

Has his old man's cluelessness but is a fast learner. He doesn’t have much time to expand his food repertoire so it’s pretty much the basic stuff that he’s eaten during the war or before that when he was younger.

He really likes cooking though, and will invite you to come cook with him for dinner or lunch if he wants to hang out. When they were together, Dream had given him an old dusty cookbook that had several recipes he hadn’t ever heard of before, so that’s where most of what he tries to make comes from. His favorite to date was a special mutton dish that he asked you to try with him on his last birthday. It was just the two of you, but he had never had so much fun before.

Doesn’t like eating fish however, there’s just some bad vibe he gets when he thinks about cooking one or catching one. (Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Desperately ignores the fish fucker. Despera-)

Loves sweet berries as treats, seeing as that’s the only sweet thing he grew up with. Not too big on other sweet flavors. Likes honey in his tea though.

7th place cooker, will get higher as he learns more dishes.

(He raises his wine high with a laugh, clinking your glass with it as you both giggle drunkenly.

The lamb you had cooked together turned out amazing, juicy and tender and flavored with crimson fungus juice. The recipe was from an old cookbook he had, he faintly remembers telling you, hiding the fact that it was Dream’s cookbook that he was given after a particularly nasty argument.

He doesn’t want to think about him, especially not while he’s with you. Especially not when it’s his birthday.

So instead he ponders the trip through the nether he took with you to harvest some of the fungi, how the juice was tangy and slightly bitter, but how it had done wonders when basted onto the meat while frying.

You had looked so happy when you two plated the dish, so proud of him, all in a way that Dream never was.

Even now, as you tiredly smile at him from across the table, cheeks pink and eyes focused solely on the moment you were sharing, he feels at peace for once. This is what contentment felt like. Oh, how he loves you so.)

Sapnap-

Shame the shit cooker. Ok ok, he’s not as bad as some of the others on this list, but that’s just because he can make a half decent breakfast. It’s not much competition.

Bad has desperately tried to teach this boy some cooking besides eggs and toast, but the only things that seem to have stuck are mashed potatoes and grilled pork chops. Neither of which he even likes enough to make often.

He prefers fish to meat, and would eat any kind of cod you offered to him. Likes smoked salmon a lot, it’s something Bad made for him a lot when he was younger. He tries to recreate the dish, but comes up short and feels disheartened when it isn’t like Bad’s. He’d appreciate any time you took with him to learn how to make the dish, and it wholly sticks to his mind afterwards. He never forgets the experience, and treasures it very closely.

Likes not-sweet sweets. Not bitter per say, but just not very sweet. He likes chewy taffy in particular, but the old lady kind that lasts 60 years but gets hard in 6 minutes after being exposed to open air. Gotta be polite about it too, or he’ll end up embarrassed and pout for an hour.

(He’s eaten 6 of those fucking taffies since you sat down on the couch, completely straight-faced as the two of you of you listen to Dream and George talking.

At this point you’re completely checked out of their conversation, solely focused on the taffy Sapnap keeps eating. Where does he even get those? How many does he have?? You’ve been friends with him long enough to have seen him pop a taffy every other second of the day. He seems to have a stash on him at all times tucked away, filled with paper-wrapped pastel covered sweets.

“Want one?” Sapnap asks, holding out a light blue taffy with a little star drawn in yellow dye on the wrapper.

“What?” Startled, you lean back a bit and realize you had been staring him down as he ate, and flush with how rude that probably seemed.

“Want a taffy? I don’t mind sharing with you, cutie.” He winks and offers the taffy again. “....” You gaze at the taffy curiously. You’ve never seen him offer another person one of his precious taffies before. Hmm. “...Yes, thanks.”

You take it delicately, unwrapping the wrapper and taking a bite of it experimentally. It’s very lightly sweet, soft and chewy and surprisingly pleasant.

Sapnap watches you from the corner of his eye, softly smiling when he sees you eat the rest of it. Glad to see someone else has good tastes around here.)

#8. George-

Meager man makes a meager meal. I said what I said!!! This flatbread boy knows diddly squat, and the only things he can cook successfully are bread and mushroom soup. Which he will make. And that’s all he’ll make. Any food that isn’t that is cooked by either Bad or Dream, and he’s still picky about it.

He’ll make you the soup and bread ladies and gents. I’m not saying they’ll taste great together, but he will definitely make them for you. Anything else he’s pretty critical about, and he doesn’t care much for treats or dessert. He does occasionally like dark chocolate though, which he and Dream will beg Bad to make for them. Soon he begs you to make it for him, and then you have to go ask Bad how he makes it so George won’t complain about how it tastes different from Bads. It’s a weird situation. You make a lot of chocolate. Dream and George linger at your house for weeks on end until you get fed up and shoo them away with a broom.

To his credit, even though he can’t cook much, he’s really proud of his mushroom stew. Any time you let him cook, his go-to is his mushroom stew. He likes to feed you and know that you’re not hungry somewhere, and to top it off he gets to show you his prized dish; not Bad’s or Dream’s stew, but his. He’s cute or whateva…

(George places the bowl down in front you, stepping back and turning to grab his own, before sitting down next to you. He immediately begins to eat, and you give him a half glance as you bring the soup up to smell it.

It… doesn’t smell that bad, actually. Not burnt, at least. You spoon some of the soup into your mouth.

Despite all you’ve seen of George’s cooking, this is pretty well made. It’s nice and warm, and the flavors are rich and the mushrooms soft. You choose to ignore the small smile of his face next to you, and keep eating your soup quietly together.)

#9: Wilbur

Wilbur can’t cook for shit. Literally nothing. This man knows apples grow from trees and that animals are made of meat and that’s it.

You think Wilbur made any of his food when he was president or exiled or ever? Not a chance. He ate anything given to him, Tubbo and Tommy absolutely brought this man all the food they could find so he wouldn’t get eat straight trash or starve throughout the presidency. Techno slid him bare cooked potatoes in Pogtopia and he thought “oh this slaps….. this is the pinnacle of food”

Which I know, not really sexy. But! This means that the moment you feed him something a step up from a bare cooked potato he is in food heaven. He especially loves saucier kinds of foods with lots of flavor and spice to them, it’s just so fucking good. Food becomes his kryptonite after you feed this silly man.

With sweets, however, he isn’t that much of a fan. He does like those small lemon creme crackers, and you and da boys are the only ppl he’ll share them with.

(You hear him before you see him. The familiar clambering at your window draws your attention away from the pork you were dicing, and one look over your shoulder shows a disheveled but grinning Wilbur.

“I hope I’m not too late for dinner.” He jokes, brushing off his pants before approaching you to press a kiss to your temple. Soon after that you hear another set of clambering, and two pairs of stomps reveals one Tommy and one Tubbo respectively.

“What’s for dinner tonight, mate?”

“Hope you don’t mind if we join in!”

You sigh, turning back to hide your smile before they can see it.)

// Hope you enjoyed! I might write a pt2 of this later with some other ppl in it lol we’ll see :3

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