Oneshot: The Weasley Code of Honour (George/Hermione)
Title: The Weasley Code of Honour
Author: sarahyyy
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: 1248
Character/Pairing: George/Hermione
Rating: NC-17 for graphicness
A/N: Yes, yes, I still have to finish NaNo. >.<
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“The Weasley Code of Honour”
a.k.a. The Rule That George Weasley Did Not Enjoy Breaking
a.k.a. The Story of How George Actually Got Someone to Agree to Marry Him
George had always been a rule-breaker the majority of his life but never once had he been so distraught about it because as much as he liked the thrill of doing something he knew he shouldn't do, he has never once broken the one set of rules he'd looked up upon since he was a mere boy - The Weasley Code of Honour.
Well, he hadn't meant to, really. It wasn’t like he was a cad or anything, really. He’d never actually planned it out beforehand or anything, it just sort of...happened. And to be fair, it wasn't as if he'd read all the rules in the darned book before he started to go out of his way to break them one by one, no. He'd only broken one rule and even then it honestly wasn't even an official rule since, well, it was written as a postscript right at the last page of the Code of Honour. Postscripts were generally things that people forgot, no? So it wasn’t surprising (or much of a sin at all) that he broke the rule. He was to be forgiven, really.
Only he'd broken it again and again and again. He'd not only done so, he'd grabbed that one rule hard in his hands, crumpled it, shredded it, twisted it and then rammed it into the wall just like he'd done so last night with-
Okay. He didn't mean it. It wasn't his fault, really. All he'd done was to have overshot his usual glasses of firewhiskey at the bar during his party- Hey, wait a minute. Come to think of it, everything started to go wrong because of that damned party. He'd told them again and again that he didn't want a freaking birthday party but of course they wouldn't listen to him because apparently "there's nothing better to cheer someone with than a party". He would like to shove that statement into Ginny's face right now. Really, all he wanted to do was to sit at home, mope and commiserate over the fact that Fred wasn't there with him.
On that note, it was actually all Fred's fault. Why in the name of all that was good and holy did he have to get blasted by a wall? All of these wouldn't have happened if Fred hadn't died in the Final Battle. If Fred hadn't died, he wouldn't have felt so rotten on his birthday of all days and if he hadn't felt so rotten on his birthday, they wouldn't have organised some party for him and he wouldn't have gotten smashed enough to walk into her room in a high state of arousal, strip himself naked, got really comfortable on her bed and proceed to have what he'd originally planned as the best drunken wank of his life.
Well maybe it wasn't really all Fred's fault. Whatever happened that night happened because of her, mostly. Well sure, he was in her room and on her bed and wanking, but did that really give her the rights to join him in bed or to give him the best blowjob he'd ever had? He was certain that she did not. He was a grown man and he needed his privacy sometimes.
Yes, he egged her on quite enthusiastically (if his pensive hadn't been tampered with, that was) and maybe he did beg her rather pathetically not to stop, but really, he was drunk! Didn't anyone teach her not to listen to the drunken talks of men? Well, yes, he supposed he did have an absolutely mind-blowing good time that night. His cock had recovered rather quickly, if he could say so himself. He remembered distinctively pressing her against the headboards of the bed and fucking her roughly from behind, his hands fondling her breast and tugging at her clit and enjoying the whole thing very much. Well, sure, he may have moaned her name once or twice through the process, but really, he was drunk. She'd practically had control over the whole thing!
She'd taken advantage of him in his drunken state. Yes, yes, it was all coming clearly to him right now. She could have left the room when she saw that he was going to need some privacy (the fact that he moaned for her to come closer was negligible, really) or she could have kicked him out of her room (the fact that he wouldn't have even thought of doing so was also negligible) or well, anything, really. The last thing she should have done was to...to...encourage his drunkenness!
The next few times it happened was also her fault. No, honest! She would corner him in empty room and then she'd press her body up against his and tug on his lower lips gently with her teeth and give him those smouldering eyes and what was he supposed to do then?
He remembered clearly that time she came looking for him at the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. She'd all but dragged (a very unwillingly willing) him to the store room and ordered him to have his way with her. Yes, the store room with the bad lock, yes. And really, since there was no nice way to turn her down, he'd ended up shagging her against the door (a precaution, really, since the idea of someone busting their way into the door was inconceivable) and swallowing her moans and cries and praises with kisses. They'd both finished really fast that day. But when he was in the middle of righting his shirt, she'd gone and done it.
"Would you like to have dinner with me?" were her exact words and all he could do was to gape and gurgle something nonsensical and look confused but apparently she took it as a yes and told him that she'd meet him there. Since it wasn't polite to leave a lady waiting for him at a restaurant, he went and they had dinner and they even managed to fit in some time for a shag in the handicap restroom. A really amazing, mind-blowing shag in the restroom.
After that day, she made him do it again. Not the shagging in public restrooms part, though there was quite a bit of that too and they learnt how to be really flexible since some cubicles they'd been in were really small. She made him go out with her for breakfasts, lunches and dinners and really soon he was around her all the time doing well, whatever it was they did even though he wasn't really in midst of shagging her brains out.
So then a few weeks of shagging and dates went by and one day this crazy idea came to him and he completely battered the Weasley Code of Honour and officially carved his name onto the list of sinners at the back page of the book - he asked her to marry him.
And that left him here, half an hour shy of dinner where he was going to announce his engagement to Hermione Granger, still looking at the postscript in The Weasley Code of Honour - thou shalt not dally with thy brother's crush. He growled. Everything that happened was not his fault! Really, if he was going to hell, he's going to take a lot of people along with him.
Author: sarahyyy
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Word Count: 1248
Character/Pairing: George/Hermione
Rating: NC-17 for graphicness
A/N: Yes, yes, I still have to finish NaNo. >.<
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“The Weasley Code of Honour”
a.k.a. The Rule That George Weasley Did Not Enjoy Breaking
a.k.a. The Story of How George Actually Got Someone to Agree to Marry Him
George had always been a rule-breaker the majority of his life but never once had he been so distraught about it because as much as he liked the thrill of doing something he knew he shouldn't do, he has never once broken the one set of rules he'd looked up upon since he was a mere boy - The Weasley Code of Honour.
Well, he hadn't meant to, really. It wasn’t like he was a cad or anything, really. He’d never actually planned it out beforehand or anything, it just sort of...happened. And to be fair, it wasn't as if he'd read all the rules in the darned book before he started to go out of his way to break them one by one, no. He'd only broken one rule and even then it honestly wasn't even an official rule since, well, it was written as a postscript right at the last page of the Code of Honour. Postscripts were generally things that people forgot, no? So it wasn’t surprising (or much of a sin at all) that he broke the rule. He was to be forgiven, really.
Only he'd broken it again and again and again. He'd not only done so, he'd grabbed that one rule hard in his hands, crumpled it, shredded it, twisted it and then rammed it into the wall just like he'd done so last night with-
Okay. He didn't mean it. It wasn't his fault, really. All he'd done was to have overshot his usual glasses of firewhiskey at the bar during his party- Hey, wait a minute. Come to think of it, everything started to go wrong because of that damned party. He'd told them again and again that he didn't want a freaking birthday party but of course they wouldn't listen to him because apparently "there's nothing better to cheer someone with than a party". He would like to shove that statement into Ginny's face right now. Really, all he wanted to do was to sit at home, mope and commiserate over the fact that Fred wasn't there with him.
On that note, it was actually all Fred's fault. Why in the name of all that was good and holy did he have to get blasted by a wall? All of these wouldn't have happened if Fred hadn't died in the Final Battle. If Fred hadn't died, he wouldn't have felt so rotten on his birthday of all days and if he hadn't felt so rotten on his birthday, they wouldn't have organised some party for him and he wouldn't have gotten smashed enough to walk into her room in a high state of arousal, strip himself naked, got really comfortable on her bed and proceed to have what he'd originally planned as the best drunken wank of his life.
Well maybe it wasn't really all Fred's fault. Whatever happened that night happened because of her, mostly. Well sure, he was in her room and on her bed and wanking, but did that really give her the rights to join him in bed or to give him the best blowjob he'd ever had? He was certain that she did not. He was a grown man and he needed his privacy sometimes.
Yes, he egged her on quite enthusiastically (if his pensive hadn't been tampered with, that was) and maybe he did beg her rather pathetically not to stop, but really, he was drunk! Didn't anyone teach her not to listen to the drunken talks of men? Well, yes, he supposed he did have an absolutely mind-blowing good time that night. His cock had recovered rather quickly, if he could say so himself. He remembered distinctively pressing her against the headboards of the bed and fucking her roughly from behind, his hands fondling her breast and tugging at her clit and enjoying the whole thing very much. Well, sure, he may have moaned her name once or twice through the process, but really, he was drunk. She'd practically had control over the whole thing!
She'd taken advantage of him in his drunken state. Yes, yes, it was all coming clearly to him right now. She could have left the room when she saw that he was going to need some privacy (the fact that he moaned for her to come closer was negligible, really) or she could have kicked him out of her room (the fact that he wouldn't have even thought of doing so was also negligible) or well, anything, really. The last thing she should have done was to...to...encourage his drunkenness!
The next few times it happened was also her fault. No, honest! She would corner him in empty room and then she'd press her body up against his and tug on his lower lips gently with her teeth and give him those smouldering eyes and what was he supposed to do then?
He remembered clearly that time she came looking for him at the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. She'd all but dragged (a very unwillingly willing) him to the store room and ordered him to have his way with her. Yes, the store room with the bad lock, yes. And really, since there was no nice way to turn her down, he'd ended up shagging her against the door (a precaution, really, since the idea of someone busting their way into the door was inconceivable) and swallowing her moans and cries and praises with kisses. They'd both finished really fast that day. But when he was in the middle of righting his shirt, she'd gone and done it.
"Would you like to have dinner with me?" were her exact words and all he could do was to gape and gurgle something nonsensical and look confused but apparently she took it as a yes and told him that she'd meet him there. Since it wasn't polite to leave a lady waiting for him at a restaurant, he went and they had dinner and they even managed to fit in some time for a shag in the handicap restroom. A really amazing, mind-blowing shag in the restroom.
After that day, she made him do it again. Not the shagging in public restrooms part, though there was quite a bit of that too and they learnt how to be really flexible since some cubicles they'd been in were really small. She made him go out with her for breakfasts, lunches and dinners and really soon he was around her all the time doing well, whatever it was they did even though he wasn't really in midst of shagging her brains out.
So then a few weeks of shagging and dates went by and one day this crazy idea came to him and he completely battered the Weasley Code of Honour and officially carved his name onto the list of sinners at the back page of the book - he asked her to marry him.
And that left him here, half an hour shy of dinner where he was going to announce his engagement to Hermione Granger, still looking at the postscript in The Weasley Code of Honour - thou shalt not dally with thy brother's crush. He growled. Everything that happened was not his fault! Really, if he was going to hell, he's going to take a lot of people along with him.