Snape's Storeroom
There were multiple sleepless nights after your encounter with the Weasley brothers. The night you got home, still weak in legs as you stumbled up to your dorm, you laid wide awake for hours playing over the details in your head. What if you woke up and found that none of it ever happened?
Even so, how were you supposed to proceed from that night? Did this give you permission to approach them during school hours? How did they still feel about you now that you slept together?
You tried to convince yourself that having them as a one night stand would be satisfying enough, but there was another part of you that yearned for them again. There was no way another man could work you the way they had. It made the pressure between your legs start to build if you reminisced about it too much.
So many times during class you'd be reprimanded for daydreaming. Even your friends were starting to realize that there was something different about you.
But there was no way you could tell them about what happened, they just wouldn't.. couldn't.. understand.
—--------
You're on high alert as you walk briskly down the hallway towards your next class, Herbology. Today marked the fourth day after your experience in the hidden pathways with the brothers. There were a few times in the dining hall and outside on the grounds that you passed them, but their attention was always elsewhere.
Even if they finally took notice of you again, you weren't even sure if you'd have the courage to approach them, but there were questions eating at your stomach - would they ignore you? How would they react seeing you for the first time after they'd fucked you?
You envisioned their eyebrows shooting up to their hairline as a deep shade of scarlet flushed in their cheeks. The girls around them scowling at you as you pass with your head held high. They'd know you had them wrapped around your finger, not that Fred and George would ever tell, and it would make them enraged and jealous.
The daydream gets cut short as you collide head on with another student. He falls back with a pot clutched in his hand, a mysterious plant poking out of the soil. He whimpers a quick apology and scuttles to his feet.
You recognize him as Neville Longbottom, a Gryffindor 4th year. He utters another apology, and you insist it's okay while collecting his book from the floor. You go to hand it to him, when two arms snake around his neck. The boy gets pulled in both directions simultaneously and he almost loses his balance. On either side of him were Fred and George, smiling widely and prodding at his chest and sides. Both are wearing their matching long sleeved gray sweaters and Gryffindor house colored ties.
The sight of them makes your heart miss a beat and your mouth immediately runs dry. The imagery from a few nights ago flashes through your mind: the slow touching and build up, their bodies against yours in the soft glow of the fire, how they broke you down and made you beg.
Neville takes the book from your now frozen outstretched hand and gives a small nod before being dragged away by Fred and George.
You overhear a part of the conversation as they drift down the hallway. "So you asked her, huh? - well isn’t that great!"
You stand there watching them turn down the corridor and vanish out of sight. They didn't even look at you or seem to notice you exist. The surge of hope that they’d finally acknowledge you evaporated, leaving the rest of your emotions iced over.
Maybe you were just a fuck to them after all.
You hesitate in that spot for a few minutes, hoping they'd turn around and run back to you, but they don't.
—-------
It was impossible to pay attention in any of your classes. The haze of euphoria from 'that night' was finally wearing off, and guilt was taking in its place. It's not like you expected to be their girlfriend or anything, but them ignoring you completely? It was just cruel.
You stayed back a little longer in potions to gather your things. As you return a cauldron back in the corner with the rest of the pile, you hear a door open and shut from across the room. You knew Snape hated every house besides Slytherin, so being there so late after class was a sure way to be put on his radar and risking a detention.
There was no yelling or snide remarks, just silence. You fix your hair and spin around while adjusting your skirt, a lame excuse already on the tip of your tongue.
George was propped up against the desk, just a few feet away from you. The sudden surprise made you jump and drop the cauldron leaving a loud CRASH. He doesn't flinch and watches as you hastily get to your knees to flip it upright.
Your heart is beating so hard that it mutes the steps he takes closer to where you're kneeling. You freeze, unsure of whether to make your escape or to yell at him and demand to know what games he's playing. He hovers with his hands tucked into his trousers and clears his throat.
Your knees threaten to give out as you get to your feet. The heat in your chest begins traveling up your neck and you quickly try to pass by George, but he extends his arm and blocks your path. You try to keep your face into a scowl as you finally give in and look at him.
He raises a brow and tilts his head. "What's that look for?"
You respond by pushing his forearm down and hurrying past him. He was no longer cornering you, and you felt more confident as you reached the center of the room. You want to be excited and relieved that he had come to find you, but it was impossible to not be upset with being thrown to the sideline.
He follows you, keeping a fair distance. "Come on," he says sweetly. "Where are you going?"
"Away from you," you murmur and hastily gather your books and toss them into your bag before slugging it over your shoulder. You turn on your heel and beeline towards the door, unlatch it and open it about a quarter of the way. Your view of the hallway is cut short as George takes one palm and shuts it. Silence fills Snape’s dungeon once again and you keep your eyes to the floor, refusing to acknowledge him.
“Ah, you’re mad,” he says and leans against the door, which you figured was his way of saying he had no intention of letting this go. You swallow your words and go to turn away, but he grabs your wrist gently. “Well come on, Y/N, what’s going on?” His fingers slip and your arm falls to your side.
You ball your fist as you feel your face flush with frustration. With as much control as you could muster you say clearly, “Nothing, I just want to go back to my dorm. It’s been a long day.”
George gives a quick huff and folds his arms. “Right,” he says mostly to himself. He moves from the door and stands in front of you. The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you felt his eyes boring into you. “Such a long day that you don’t want to look at me, then?”
“Something like that,” you answer quickly, then gain the courage to lift your chin and face him. There was something sweet about his expression that made your guard weaken. His doe eyes flick back and forth on your face as he takes your balled fists in his hands.
“Fred and I didn’t mean to ignore you,” George said simply. Your brows shot up, unable to fake the fact that he just hit the nail right on the head. His fingers massage your palms and he continues with, “we’ve just been busy.”
The heaviness in your chest that was lingering all day began to lift, but you still had some unanswered questions “And earlier? You could have at least said something or even just looked my way!”
“Yes, well,” he said, trailing off before clearing his throat. “What exactly do you say after what happened? In front of others, nonetheless.”
The memories flooded back again, losing the battle of fighting them off as they swarmed in your brain. Your cheeks burn and you finally loosen your fists and take both of his hands in yours. “I - guess that’s true.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. Also, we did just learn Neville asked our little sister to the Yule Ball, so we had to give him hell for it.” George smiles and squeezes your fingers. “It’s what big brothers are for, after all.” You laugh and he beams even brighter.
With that, you knew you had already forgiven them both. As much as you wanted to hold that grudge, it was impossible when face to face with either one of the brothers. “It’s okay,” you say.
George pulls you closer, your chest now inches away from his. “So we are good, then?”
You nod and bite your lip. His fingers leave your palms, brush against your arm and rest on your sides. Even though it was the smallest of touch, it made your breathing start to hitch. His pupils are glued to you now, just as they were the night he confessed to wanting you. You step forward, your body now flush against his as your arms raise to wrap around his neck.
With a soft voice he says, “good.” His lashes flutter as he stares down at your lips, a devilish grin appearing at once. “Because we are just getting started with you.”
Those words send an instant chill up your spine and you look away sheepishly. He presses his forehead against yours and he waits. His lips are so achingly close that it makes your face tingle with anticipation.
George's fingers splay out as they start traveling up your back, then down to your hips. With one swift movement he bends down, grabs you by the back of the thighs and lifts you. You wrap your legs around him, and he carries you for a few steps then places you down on one of the tables.
You let out a small gasp from the cold surface that kisses your bare thighs where your skirt didn't cover. He pushes hard against you, tilting his head so that he could watch you as his lips hover over yours. Your thighs squeeze him as you lean forward, you couldn't take waiting anymore. Right before you make contact, he pulls back and smirks.
"Sorry, I don't kiss on the first date," George says scoldingly. "You didn't even buy me dinner first!"
You bite back a laugh and give a quick eye roll. "Stop!" You try to kiss him again and he grabs your shoulders.
"I'm not just a piece of meat, woman!" He exclaims playfully.
You both erupt with laughter. The moment is cut short by the jiggling of the latch. He places his hand over your mouth, grabs you by the wrist and leads you to the only other door - Snape's storeroom. George closes it as gently as he could and presses his shoulder against it. He looks between you, and where Snape could be heard shuffling on the other side.
George runs his fingers through his hair as he calmly searches the four corners and then up at the ceiling. He shoots you an inquiring look, his expression silently asking ‘any ideas’? You respond with a shrug and he slumps against the door. Panic was starting to set in for you. If this wasn’t a one way to detention or even expulsion, you didn’t know what else was. Snape wasn’t the forgiving type, especially if you weren’t in the Sytherin house.
Soft snickering brings your attention back to George, who is holding his fist against his mouth. His freckled face was turning a shade of pink as he was holding back the fit of laughter that took over him. You couldn’t understand how he could possibly find this funny, this was serious. This was - then it dawned on you.
After storming closer to him you harshly whisper, “are you messing with me?”
“No!” He chokes out and waves his hands dramatically. You reach for the handle and he grabs and stops you. “I’m not, I swear!”
You say flatly, “Then why don’t I believe you?”
George falters with a response and you carefully pull the latch. Instead of fighting with you, he steps back and lets you peek out. Standing a few feet away was Snape with his back to the both of you sifting through large pieces of parchment at his desk.
The horrified expression on your face says it all, and George slowly closes the door. He watches you with amusement as you mutter a quick apology. You were really trapped in here. There was a chance that Snape could come back at any second and catch the both of you. What could you even say to get yourself out of this situation?
Even as you go through the different possible excuses, you notice that George isn’t even breaking a sweat. You know that he and Fred are always getting into trouble, but you can’t imagine that they would even be fearless from this professor’s wrath. He half shrugs at you, almost as if he was reading your mind, then steps away from the door to approach you. He pulls you in by your waist and smiles down at you.
George bends down to press his warm cheek against yours. With the softest of voices, he says “might as well make the best of it.”
Your mouth falls open in shock at how he could even be thinking about something like that while you were trapped in the Storeroom. You want to protest, but his fingers that trail up your spine make your brain start to get hazy. His other hand curves over your butt, then stops right where the hem of your skirt is. The fire in your veins ignites in an instant, and you stare transfixed up at him - anticipating his next move.
You stand on your tippy toes so that you can get closer to his face, your palms grabbing both sides of his neck. You press your chest and hips against him so that you could feel just how hard he was getting. His pupils are huge as he looks back at you, most of the brownish-orange iris vanishing behind those black orbs. His grip on your thigh tightens as you add some friction against his bulge.
In one swift and fluid movement, George spins the both of you around and pushes you against the door. His one hand cushions the back of your head as he fully leans in, his soft lips meeting yours so achingly slow. You attempt to increase the pressure of your kiss, but he pulls back and narrows his eyes. You are so desperate to taste him again that you writhe between him and the hard wooden surface behind you. A sharp sigh escapes your lips as he tenderly moves in again, parting your lips with his tongue.
You follow his lead, understanding the speed that he has set, not daring to step out of line. George presses against you as your tongue tangles with his, the increasing danger of getting in trouble drifting off to the very back of your mind. It was impossible to think of anything else.
He pauses and inches his face back, your bottom lip still barely grazing his. You feel his hot breath on your skin as you wait with loosening patience. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he says in a cool and low whisper.
Your face reddens and you glance away from his intense stare. It was hard to accept compliments as is - but when Fred or George would utter one though, there was a quick pang of electricity that would course through your chest. It was as if they had mastered the simplest of ways to make you speechless and immediately turn into a little shy school girl.
His fingers weave through your hair to the back of your skull and he tugs so that you regain eye contact again. Without hesitation, his free hand slips from your hips and begins to explore past the hem of your skirt. The tips of his fingers meet the fabric of your already soaked panties.
He muffles your sudden gasp with his mouth, then pulls back and shushes you sweetly. “Do you think you could be quiet for me if I touch you?” Your breathing hitches as he hovers over right where you want him, and you squeeze your thighs with increased anticipation. Your brain was in a fog, that you barely realized that he had asked you a question.
George grips your hair and licks his lips, his stare hardening as says, “tell me you’ll be a good girl and stay quiet while I make you feel good.”
“I-I’ll..” You stammer out and his grin widens, clearly amused watching you struggle. “I will be.”
“You’ll be what?” He questions as his thumb pushes against your panties and begins circling your clit.
“G-good,” you sputter out and bite back a moan as he finally puts more pressure to your sensitive nub.
He raises his brows in approval, then kisses your forehead. Your body begins quaking as he guides your legs apart. He slips past the thin fabric and slides a single finger up your folds, leaving you shuddering against him. You attempt to stay quiet by smashing your face against his chest, your nails digging into his shoulders through his sweater.
“You’re so wet,” he whispers as two of his digits part you, the other masterfully landing directly on your clit. You hold onto him and whimper as he so gingerly caresses exactly where you need him, leaving you like putty in his arms. George’s eyes are still locked onto you, his lashes flutter as a cheshire cat grin spreads across his face.
Without warning, he penetrates you with his middle finger. Your walls contract and you grab his broad shoulders with all of your might. You almost let out a cry, but he captures it with his mouth.
“You’re doing so good,” George coaches as he slides his finger in and out of you. “So fucking good, Y/N.”
You shake and muffle out a cry as his tongue rolls with yours. He begins doing a ‘come here’ motion with his hand, causing you to crumble against his chest. You beg him quietly, “please, don’t stop. George, I’m getting so close.”
He immediately removes his grip from your hair and undoes his pants, letting them drop to his knees. He continues to work on you as he does so, his palm now on your cheek. You could feel his throbbing erection now pressing against your thigh.
George gives you a warning look as his fingers come to a halt and slip out of you. You were on the cusp of an orgasm, and your whole body shakes in protest. He lifts your left leg and moves your panties to the side to line up his cock to your opening. The head, already shiny with your slick, slowly begins to penetrate you.
You shake your head, not because you don’t want it, but because it feels impossible to not make a sound as his cock stretches your walls. He places a firm hand over your mouth and says, “Don’t worry, I got you.” The moment those words leave his mouth, he pushes himself further inside. Your legs shake and what would have been a high pitched scream is muffled by his large freckled palm. He nods in approval, each thrust bringing his hips even closer to yours. Just like before, George was moving achingly slow. You could feel every inch of his cock push in and out of you. His face is flushed and his pupils completely blown out as he observes every expression you make.
That’s when you start to hear footsteps and frustrated murmuring outside of the door. It was Snape. He evidently left his desk and was now closer to the storeroom than ever. Your eyes widened under George’s hand, which was still fixed over your mouth. He shrugs and thrusts into you a little harder, making your head roll back. Your mind is being pulled between the fear of getting caught and the orgasm that is building.
He reaches down and starts playing with your clit with the most devilish smile you have ever witnessed. “It’s okay,” he mouths mutely. Then leans forward and whispers, “at least we will go out in the blaze of glory.”
Your spine curves as your body moves with his. Your eyes roll back in silent pleasure as your clit throbs under his thumb. If there was one way to get thrown out of Hogwarts, this was it. At that moment, it didn’t even matter to you if it would come to that. All you wanted was for George to cum with you.
It was as if he could read your mind, because he says, “Cum for me.” He finally removes his hand from your mouth and replaces it with a hungry kiss. He pulls back for just a moment to utter, “right now.”
You do as you’re told and let go. Your mind goes dark and you see stars as shock waves spread throughout your body. He thrusts a few more times, then buries himself inside fully and lets out a soft grunt. His hot cum drips down your thigh as he slowly slides himself out of you.
The handle to the storeroom begins to jiggle, and you hear Snape talking to himself. George grabs and moves you a few steps away. You barely have time to comprehend what’s happening when the door opens a few inches.
This is it, you think to yourself. This is how people will remember me. The girl who got caught fucking in Snape’s classroom.
Just before the professor could step in, a loud bang from the hallway erupts. He turns on his heel, closing the entrance to the storeroom and runs out of the class.
“That’s our queue,” George says hastily as he fastens his pants again. He takes you by the hand and leads you through the classroom and out into the hallway. You try to dry the cum that was sliding down your legs by rubbing your thighs together as you reach the end of the corridor. As soon as you take that right, he pulls you into one of the hidden passageways.
You hunch over and rest your hands on your knees to catch your breath. Your mind is still in a haze from the orgasm and almost getting caught, that you completely miss Fred standing a foot away.
“Cut it a little close there,” George says panting.
“Oh relax,” Fred retorts with his arms folded. “I was watching the map the entire time.”
“You were what?” You ask and straighten your back. “Wait, so you knew.” You point at the now smirking brother.
“Of course,” he states simply.
You scowl and roll your eyes. You aren’t entirely sure how this even came as a surprise, they were always plotting together. Why would this have been any different?
“To be fair, Snape wasn’t in the plan,” George explains quickly after seeing your reaction. “Well, none of that was aside from talking to you.”
“It’s true,” Fred agrees. “And to think he got to have you all to himself.”
They look at each other, then both mirror the same devilish grin.
“Well, I guess you owe Fred one, don’t you?”
You sigh, this again. “I mean,” you answer coyly, “I suppose since you saved us from Snape, I do.” They both raise their brows in surprise at your answer. “I guess you’ll just have to let me know just what you’ll want in return.”
“Oh don’t you worry,” Fred says with confidence. “I have a few things in mind.”