SMUT WARNING: Proceed with caution...
Clover had apparated into George's flat with a frown planted on her face, not liking the idea of having to be around the boy who visibly saw her episode earlier on. She quickly turned her sight away from the messy and bare walls over towards a slightly smiling George.
Poking him in the chest authoritatively, the blonde her narrowed her eyes and grumbled out, "I don't need you to take care of me. I'm fine."
George simply rolled his eyes, "If you were fine you wouldn't have been drowning yourself in alcohol."
She watched as the ginger boy slowly walked away from her and into the kitchen area. He grabbed a jar full of strange-looking liquid and started back towards her.
"Drink," he pushed the jar forwards, but Clover stubbornly turned her face and refused it.
"I don't need you to take care of me," she repeated and went to reach for the wand tucked into her waistband, "Now if you don't mind, I'll be leaving-,"
"I'm not so sure about that," the right end of his lips quirked upwards as he crossed his arms over his chest.
Clover glared at him while beginning to raise her wand to apparate away, only to watch it turn into a rubber chicken right in her hand. Before she even had a chance to understand what had happened, George's voice cut in through her thoughts.
"Trick wand," he smirked while spinning her real wand between his fingers, "You really think I didn't know you would try to leave?"
She crossed her arms over her chest angrily, "I don't need you to take care of me."
"That's not what I'm trying to do," he shook his head, the smile on his face giving way to a genuine expression, "I just wanted to talk. I wanted to see how you're doing after-,"
"I told you I'm fine, George," she snapped in frustration, not wanting to talk about it.
A increasing pain began growing in her head from a combination of the stress from today and the alcohol in her body. Her eyes slowly drifted over to the liquid that was in George's hand, silently hoping he would offer it to her again. She would never ask on her own terms, not after she so stubbornly denied it.
However, George caught the subtle action and let out a genuine laugh at the pleading, yet headstrong look in her eye.
"Drink, then we'll talk," he held out the jar of sobering up potion and watched as she hesitantly took it.
Clover forced the potion down her throat until she felt all sense of rationality come back to her. She nodded at George, thanking him without physically having to thank him, and slumped down onto the only couch in the room. Her eyes had locked onto the record player she had seen last time, and willing to do anything to change the subject, Clover stood up and walked over to it.
Her hands raked through the various vinyl laying next to it, flipping past different records from different rock bands. It was only when she was holding Escape by Journey that she spoke next.
"Never pinned you as an American rock type of bloke," she chuckled under her breath while turning around and raising a curious eyebrow at him.
She watched as a smile ghosted across George's face, but was quickly replaced with a frown. He walked over to her and grabbed the album from her hands, "Don't touch that."
She startled from the abrupt change in his mood. George had taken the album and walked back over to couch , sitting with it while firmly holding it in his hands. His eyes were so intensely locked on it, almost as if he were replaying every memory he ever had with it over in his head. She should've been mad for the way he so rudely grabbed it from her, but she couldn't. Clover knew from the nostalgic, yet regretful look in his eye that he was only trying to hold onto his past. Instead, she put the rest of the vinyl down, not wanting to disturb anything else.
And when she turned back around, George was staring at her with a look so sad that it was familiar. It was like looking at a scratched record, knowing exactly when and where it would skip in the song.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled under his breath, "I-I...this just reminds me of...,"
George trailed off, and instead of finishing the sentence for him, Clover moved to sit next to him. His face softened as she turned her attention to him, gazing at him as if encouraging him to continue. And the blue swimming around in her eyes captivated him just enough that he did continue.
"The first time Fred caught me listening to this, he made fun of me shitless. Said I was a prat for listening to American music," he sadly laughed as he spoke, "But the git ended up falling in love with the band. It was one of his favorites before he...,"
She nodded before grazing her finger softly over the familiar list of songs on the vinyl cover as he trailed off.
"He must have good taste then," she playfully smiled and nudged him in the arm, "And I guess you do, too."
"You like Journey?" He asked in surprise, both at her response and at how he felt after mentioning Fred. It was nice getting to talk about Fred without making someone shift uncomfortably or get upset over him.
"There's nothing more satisfying than blasting muggle music from America in the Slytherin common room," she looked up at him and laughed, "You should have seen the looks I got."
George laughed, and suddenly there were no more lingering thoughts of Fred in his head. It was him and Clover, no one else. "Maybe all snakes aren't bad, yeah?"
"I told you," she pointed at him accusingly, both of them chuckling until the room fell silent again. For a moment, it stayed like that. Only slow breaths and finger tapping being heard.
George was thumping his finger against the outside of the vinyl, his eyes continuously falling back towards Clover. He couldn't understand how it was so easy around her, how they could go from mad to sad to playful to smiling to simply just talking without even meaning to. He thought about Fred and how he might've teased him for thinking so hard about this. And as soon as he did so, he regretted it. Because now his head was swarming with thoughts of Fred.
Clover was innocently watching George's facial expression change abruptly before her eyes. His soft eyes flashed with panic for a second, before he blinked away the emotion. He now was bouncing and his hand was scratching the back of his neck harshly.
"George?" She softly spoke while putting her hand over his to catch his attention.
His mind was spinning with the idea that he'd never get to hear Fred teasing him again, never get to accomplish their dream of having a bloody wicked joke shop together, never get to joke around with him, never get to pull another prank on anyone. No, George was alone now. It was just him, his thoughts, and the pitying stare of everyone around him.
But now there was a hand over his and blue eyes looking at him, not in pity or concern, but rather curiosity. Her eyes were like oceans of possibility, full with breaks from the pounding thoughts and distractions from the constant panic he lived in. And, George wanted to drown in it.
His hands moved to either side of her face and kept her eyes locked on his. He was scared of what might have consumed him if he looked away, and so instead he forced his thoughts elsewhere. Instead, he thought of the soft lips in front of him. The ones that had willingly kissed him back after he pressed his against hers. His mind ran wild again, but not about Fred this time.
After a few more moments of silence, he couldn't hold back anymore, "Why'd you kiss me back?"
"W-what?" She stuttered, her body tense at his touch.
"When I kissed you, you kissed back," he breathily spoke again, "Why?"
She looked away from him, her cheeks blushing while doing so. But he needed her stare, he needed to keep the thought away. So, he used his hands to guide her face back towards his. "Why?"
"I needed to get out of my own head," she sighed out, looking at George guiltily, "Like you said, thoughts are killers. A-and you were there and you kissed me and I know it was selfish of me to kiss back, but I really just needed a distract-,"
His thumb trailed over her jawline until it rested upon her lips. George needed his thoughts to stop, he needed her talking to stop. Her breath against his skin was sending his mind to another place, one far away from thinking about Fred. And, it drove him absolutely wild.
"Fuck, j-just stop talking. It's not your fault it was mine, I kissed you. I just...I," he stuttered, not knowing what to say. It meant nothing to neither of them, so why was it so hard to get the words out of his mouth?
His hands fell down to her waist and pulled her on top of him abruptly, wanting everything to just stop for a little bit. Clover's breath hitched as he brought her chest up against his. "I just need...,"
Some people were meant to thrive in the sun, soaking in the feeling of light on their skin. Others were meant to thrive in the rain, the grey clouds feeding their grey souls. But then there was Clover, who thrived in chaotic, soul-sucking storms, the disorder of it all make her feel more alive than she ever has. And George was the most chaotic storms of them all; she was hooked.
"Let me kiss you again," George's voice rasped into her ear.
As his words bounced around the room, floods of everything that had happened from today rushed into her head. Everything that she needed a distraction from. Everything that she wanted nothing to do with. Everything that caused her nightmares and pain and suffering. And suddenly, she knew that everything was the exact opposite of what she wanted right now. Clover wanted nothing; she wanted nothing that would mean everything.
Her lips were a breath away from George's, both of their eyes lustfully locked onto each others lips. But, she pulled away slightly and whispered, "Tell me this will mean nothing in the morning."
George inhaled her words. His thoughts ran from Fred to Angelina to Clover and then back to the pair of lips in front of him. He couldn't help but think that's exactly what he wanted. Nothing.
He brought his head into the crook of her neck and sucked on a soft piece of her skin, before pulling back and looking her directly in the eyes, "Nothing."
She thunderously crashed her lips onto his, their bodies moving against each other as their tongues met. George hungrily moved his mouth with hers as she brought her hands up to his hair. A desirable groan slipped from his lips as she lightly tugged the ginger hair on his head.
His mouth moved lower, leaving a trail of rough kisses across her jawline and down her neck. She held in a moan as he reached the area of sensitive skin just above her collarbone, but lost all sense of control as his teeth grazed the area.
"Fuck, George," she threw her head back and involuntarily bucked her clothed hips against his.
His hands wandered down until they were firmly grasping her arse and helped moved her hips in a fluid motion against his groin. She grabbed at the hem of her shirt and quickly pulled it over her head, and just for a second George's motions stopped. His eyes looked onto her body hungrily as Clover smirked.
"Like what you see, Georgie boy?" She teased him at the same time she ground down into him.
A string of curses escaped his lips as he moved his hips up towards hers. Instead of replying, he simply shook his head and formed a smirk of his own. George stood up, holding her up around his torso, and walked towards his bed room.
"You think you're so clever, do you?" He rasped, his lips once again attaching to her neck as he threw open his bedroom door.
George tossed her down on top of his bed and pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his toned body. He hovered over her, leaning his arms on either side of her head, "Let's see how clever you are when you're a moaning, whimpering mess."
As soon as the words left his mouth, the blonde girl felt her core ache with neediness. He slipped his hand under the waistband of her pants and slid them down in a quick motion. With that same smirk on his face, he softly rubbed his fingers over her clothed heat.
A sensual laugh left his lips as she squirmed from his touch, "Already so wet, so sensitive for me, love."
He continued slowly rubbing her slit through her panties, not daring to go faster and not daring to let his fingers touch her skin. She narrowed her eyes at him and held back a whining moan, bucking her hips towards his fingers to get some type of friction.
Another laugh rang out from his mouth and Clover let out a whimpering groan, "Fuck you, George."
The motion stopped completely, making Clover regret her decision altogether. George slowly brought his face down to hers, lustfully whispering as he licked a stripe of skin up her neck, "No, love. I'm going to be fucking you."
He ground his body down onto hers, his skin against hers, his hardened cock against her heat. And, the sound that left both of their mouths at the contact was blissfully in sync.
His lips attached back onto hers, hungrier and rougher this time. It was needy, sloppy, desperate the way they both clung to each other, both physically and mentally. George needed her and Clover needed him, effortlessly and thoughtlessly.
She flipped them over and found herself sitting on top of him, both of them topless and aching for more. Clover rubbed her body against his sensually as she brought her face back down towards him. Her hand slipped down to the button of his pants as she whispered, "Let's see what you can do, carrot-crotch."
He smirked as his large and hardened cock spring free from its restraints, watching as Clover's eyes doubled in size as they widened at the sight.
"Game on, Blondie," he winked at her as he bucked his bare crotch up into her barely clothed heat.
She slowly slipped her panties off and tossed them to the side, watching as George took himself in his own hand. Clover lifted herself up until he was lined up with her slit, and in one swift, abrupt motion, he was deep inside of her.
"O-oh my fuck," her body collapsed onto his chest as she slowly adjusted to his size, "Bloody fucking hell."
George's head fell back against his pillow in pure desire, his mouth slipping out groans as his motions became easier and quicker, "So good, so fucking good."
His hands wrapped around her and unclasped her bra, letting her breasts fall into his hands. He firmly grabbed them as he thrusted himself upwards into her, a stream of curses slipping from his mouth while doing so. He guided himself in and out of her, reveling in the way her body moved against his.
Suddenly, Clover felt his motions slow down and steady themselves. She looked up at him with desperate, pleading eyes, only to be met by yet another smirk.
"Let's see how clever you really are," he quipped, halting all motions and putting his hands behind his head, looking up at her challengingly.
A whimper left her mouth at the lack of movement, but narrowed her eyes at him. He wanted clever, he was going to get clever.
She smiled at him innocently before turning around and facing away from him, still firmly on top of his dick. Then, she began bouncing up and down, riding his length fully and satisfyingly.
"Shit," she heard George moan from behind her, his cock stirring even more while inside of her, "Oh, fuck."
"Is this clever enough for you?" She remarked, letting out a moan as he quickly grabbed her off of him and flipped them around.
He took her legs and held them open, crashing himself inside of her hard and fast, a crying whimper leaving her mouth as he entered. And once again, thunder met lightning. His eyes met hers. This was exactly what they had wanted, all they had needed; Skin pounding against skin and their thoughts far away from any of their troubles.
Clover tore her eyes away from his as she felt herself coming undone, "G-George, I'm almost there."
He replied by pounding into her in a deep and hard rhythmic movement, one that nearly sent himself overboard.
"Cum for me," he groaned into her ear, struggling to speak through his own moans, "Fucking cum for me."
With a loud cry, Clover felt herself come completely undone, her body writhing with pleasure, "Fuck, George, I'm cumming. I'm cumming now."
"Such a good girl for me," he responded, pulling out of her and finishing himself off in his hand, "Fuck, Clover."
Their heaving breaths were the only thing left lingering in the room as they cleaned themselves up and fell asleep. And in the morning when Clover woke up, she found she was surrounded with exactly what she wanted. Nothing. George was gone.
His answer to her own question replayed in her head. Nothing.
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AUTHORS NOTE:
AHHHH THEY DID IT. Lucky her, honestly. The things I would do to be railed by George Weasley.
ANYWAYS, happy 4th of July to anyone whose celebrating!!! And for those who aren't, happy Sunday!!! I hope you guys are genuinely doing okay, you all literally mean the world to me. Comment your favorite book below, I need more:)