Caught Between Twins (Fred & George Weasley)

TW: This chapter contains explicit sexual content, including detailed depictions of consensual intimacy and mild language.

...

The warm, soft sunlight peeking through the window landed delicately on the sheets where Daisy and George were slowly waking up—a bit fuzzy from last night's drinks and happy to see each other first thing in the morning.

Taking all the time in the world, they had breakfast with the chocolate muffins she'd prepared the day before—they were a bit salty and burnt, but George didn't say anything, hoping that proud smile would never leave her face.

He explained a few things that hadn't been clear in the stories shared back at Grimmauld Place—names she didn't have a face to connect with, inside jokes she hadn't understood at the time. Of course, she didn't interrupt anyone just to clarify things for herself.

However, it felt utterly satisfying hearing George talk about it, eager to include her in his life as much as possible—all while caressing her skin slowly. His touch was warmer than any campfire she'd ever sat beside.

It wasn't until a white owl with glowing blue eyes tapped on the glass window—graceful in a way not many of its species were. He didn't even step inside when Daisy opened up for him. He elegantly bowed, inviting her to take the letter from his beak.

As soon as she did, he flew away with such delicacy and grace it felt captivating. She wondered what it would be like to have an owl instead of using magic to send messages.

"Secret admirer?" George teased as she sat next to him on the couch. He almost cracked his neck trying to see who the letter was from.

"What if it is?" she smirked, hiding the parchment behind her back and leaning forward. "Would you be jealous?"

With a swift motion, he managed to guide her into his lap. His hands roamed from her waist up to her back, pulling her closer—their lips brushing slightly, heavy breaths shared—until he finally gripped the letter and raised it high enough to read.

"Hey! That's not fair," she hissed, gently pushing him off, but Daisy already knew who had written her and was anticipating his reaction.

As soon as George read Fleur's name elegantly signed in blue ink—aristocratic, almost—his face melted with guilt for having invaded her privacy. Yes, he would've been jealous if it had been a boy's name on the paper, and it was utterly ridiculous to realize that.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"You don't need to apologize," she cut him off, gently resting two fingers on his warm lips before pushing his hand back toward himself. "Will you read it for me?"

Almost as curious as she was, George opened the envelope, glancing at Daisy a few times to make sure she truly wanted him to know whatever was written inside. When she nodded, he felt his heart skip beats—nearly fainting from how good it felt.

Not just from her intense gaze, which always made him feel this way. It was the way she trusted him—without needing to test him first. She was already adjusting to not having to deal with things alone, and it felt incredibly satisfying for both of them.

"Dear Daisy,
There's so much I still have to tell you. Would you like to come over for dinner tonight? Just the two of us.
—Fleur."

He read slowly—the calligraphy so elegant it was hard to decipher.

The words echoed in the air for a moment. She wasn't sure how to feel about it—it didn't seem right to decline. It wasn't even Fleur's fault, what had happened in the past. She had no reason to be the one reaching out.