A/N: Written for the Flavors of Summer Smut Fest! Thank you to the modmins for hosting! This is always such a fun one to participate in. This year, we claimed a prompt and then were assigned an ice cream flavor and allowed to ask for extra chaos! I love all the chaos, so I asked for all the extra!

My prompt I chose was:
Kink: Rough Sex
but make it Soulmates

My extra chaos was: Orgasm Denial, Accidental Bonds, George Weasley

And my ice cream flavor was Pistachio Pistachio!

Enjoy!

Summary: Hermione and George form a singles club to dish on their friends over their favorite ice cream. One night they decide to use each other to scratch an itch and it changes their lives forever.

Pairing: Hermione Granger/George Weasley

Rating: M

Warnings: Rough Sex, Orgasm Denial, Accidental Bonds, Soulmates, Soul Bond, Bondage

Real Love

"No! He didn't!" Hermione shouted, waving her spoon at George. George threw his head back, cackling.

"He did! I swear it." He crossed his heart and dug his spoon back into the pint of Pistachio Pistachio they were sharing.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "I can't believe it of him..." then she thought about it for a moment and shook her head, "actually, maybe I can. That might be worse. I'm not really sure I needed to know that about him and Audrey."

"Now you know how I feel," George replied smugly. He shuddered. "Nobody needs to know what it takes their brother to get off."

"Okay, George, that was gross, even for you," Hermione replied with a grimace. She dug another bite of ice cream out and popped it into her mouth. "We need to change the subject. I'm done discussing Percy's sex life for the rest of my life."

George laughed and stood from the small table in Hermione's kitchen, dropping his spoon into the sink and then putting the rest of the ice cream away.

"Same time next week?" he asked on his way out the door. Hermione smiled and nodded.

She and George had been sharing ice cream and stories of their friend group for a few months now. Ever since they had both discovered they had the same favorite ice cream. As the two single people in their group, they were thrown together quite often, and thankfully George had never made it awkward, though Hermione imagined that it could so easily become awkward.

It was a few weeks after the illuminating night about Percy and Audrey that George proposed something that would change Hermione's life forever.

"You're single, Granger," George said, taking a bite of the pale green ice cream.

"Well spotted," Hermione said with half a grin. The whole reason they even did these was because they were the only two single people in their group.

"What if we..." he trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Date?" Hermione said, wrinkling her nose.

"You don't have to look so disgusted about it," George said with a sniff and turned his nose up. "But I wasn't proposing dating anyway."

"Just what were you proposing then?" Hermione asked, pinning him with a stern look.

"Let me ask you this, when was the last time you had a good old fashion roll in the hay?" George's brown eyes were sparkling at this question and his lips twitched with an effort to keep a grin from them.

"Too damned long, as you well know," Hermione grumbled and dug the last bite of ice cream out of the container.

"Well, why don't we scratch each other's itches then," George replied. His grin was hesitant, but it was there.

Hermione frowned. "I didn't think you liked me... in that way," she said. She was completely flummoxed though and wasn't sure what to say to such a proposition. "How do we even know we'd be compatible?"

"Got something kinky to share with me?" he asked, his voice dropped into a deeper, huskier tone and suddenly Hermione was seeing George in a new light. One that she found she wasn't all that opposed to.

"You didn't answer my question," Hermione replied, crossing her arms over her chest. With as much as she and George dished about their friends the last thing she was going to tell him were her kinks for him to dish with someone else about.

"Perhaps you've grown on me," he said with a grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Even about this, you can't be serious."

"Right," George replied with a tight smile. He left shortly afterward and Hermione felt sad. Did George like her more than he was letting on? If so, why hadn't he come out and said it?

As much as she needed a good session in the sack with another like-minded individual, the idea of starting up with George felt dangerous for some reason.

Two nights after that, a knock on her door woke her up from dozing on her couch. She closed the book that was sitting on her lap and answered the door.

George was standing there, soaking wet, with a bottle of half-drunk firewhisky dangling from his hand.

"I know you said no," he started, "but maybe just hear me out?" He gave her a tentative smile and Hermione's heart squeezed in her chest.

"Come in," she said, leading him into her lounge. Once he was installed on the sofa and the bottle of Firewhisky was pried from his fingers she dug out a bottle of Sober-Up and Headache Solution. George took them in quick succession, grimacing at the taste.

"If we're going to talk about this," Hermione said, once he was focusing on her with sober eyes, "then we'll do it while we're both sober."

"Fair enough," George replied. He took a deep breath. "I realize that perhaps I wasn't very fair to you the other night, but while maybe I'm not interested in dating you, it's not because of you, it's because I'm not interested in dating anyone."

"Same," Hermione said with half a chuckle. "I'm too busy to date, but I could possibly be talked around to a different sort of relationship."

"Like friends with benefits?" George asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows. He had a wicked smirk on his face that did something to Hermione's chest she didn't want to think too closely about.

"Something like that, though there will be rules," she replied sternly. Her own smirk was hovering around the corners of her lips.

"Of course there will be, you like rules, I wouldn't expect anything different," George replied. He bit his bottom lip and Hermione had the sudden urge to pull it from between his teeth and lick it.

"No gossiping about this to anyone," Hermione said. "That's really the only rule I have. I don't want to get shit from Harry or Ron or anyone else that we're sleeping together."

"Oh, don't worry. I may gossip about everyone else, but I have no desire to have everyone else in my business," he assured her and scooted closer to her on the sofa. He ran his hand down her arm achingly slow and soft.

"Okay, there's another rule," Hermione told him breathlessly. "I like it kinda rough."

George sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, his free hand clenching into a fist for a moment. "I can do rough," he said in a voice full of dark promise.

Hermione couldn't handle it anymore and climbed into his lap, pulling his head to hers in a fierce kiss. George gave as good as he got, nipping at her lips and tongue when she showed him how she liked it. He slid a hand around to the nape of her neck, giving it a squeeze and Hermione moaned into his mouth. She had never really considered the size difference between them before, but the way his hand wrapped around the back of her neck was hot as hell.

After a few moments of heated kisses, Hermione pulled back staring at him with half-lidded eyes.

"Well, let's take this back to my bedroom, shall we?"

"Oh, fuck yes," George replied. Then before Hermione could maneuver herself off of him, he stood, hauling her to him. She laughed and wrapped her legs around his waist, putting her core in direct contact with his hard cock and she moaned as he adjusted his grip on her, making her bounce against him with every step.

He threw her down onto the bed and began getting undressed. Hermione hurried out of her clothes too and then got up on her hands and knees.

"This alright?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

"Fuck yes," George murmured as he came up behind her and began rubbing her arse with his hands. He slipped them between her legs, feeling her dampness and Hermione groaned, rocking back into his hand.

"How rough is rough?" he asked, his voice completely husky.

"I'll tell you if it's too much," Hermione told him. George groaned and lined his cock up with her cunt before sinking into her. She wasn't as wet as she could be, but Merlin did that pinch of pain feel good.

"Alright?" George asked, rocking into her, keeping his hands on her waist and arse.

"Harder," Hermione told him, pushing back against him. George slapped her bum and she moaned in response, so he did it again. Then surprising her—she expected she'd have to coerce him into really being rough with her—he grabbed her braid and wrapped it around his fist, yanking her back as he pushed forward. "Fuck, yes!" Hermione shouted as he bent her, controlling her almost entirely. It wasn't long after that she came harder than she had in ages. Getting a good hard fuck in was nothing like an orgasm from a vibrator. George hit her arse a few more times before he gripped her hips tightly and came with a low groan.

They both collapsed to the bed and Hermione couldn't remember the last time she felt this content.

"I really hope you let me do that again," George murmured sleepily from next to her.

Hermione let out a small chuckle. "And why's that?" she asked.

"I didn't even get a chance to play with your tits," he lamented, his eyes closed, a goofy smile on his face.

Hermione snorted and snuggled into his side. "Go to sleep, Weasley."

It was a few weeks into sleeping with George that he introduced orgasm denial. At first, Hermione was a little reluctant to try it but trusted George to get her there. Hadn't he given her weeks of orgasms already?

He told her it was always something he'd wanted to try, but hadn't quite found the nerve to do it, but he felt like he could experiment with her in ways he couldn't with past partners. So Hermione relented but insisted that they have a safe word in place. "That way we can stop if it becomes too much," she explained.

The first time they tried, Hermione came too easily. "You can't with my clit," she told him, panting. "Just leave the clit alone and it should be fine."

"Alright," George said, a look on his face that told Hermione he was thinking hard about this. "As much as I like it when you come, I think you're going to like denial."

"If you can get me there," Hermione teased.

"Oh, Granger," he murmured, leaning over her. "You have no idea." Then he slid inside her without warning and Hermione almost came from that sensation alone. "Too bad you're ruined for tonight. Might as well give you as many orgasms as you can handle."

"Fuck, you better," Hermione groaned as George pounded into her.

He at least kept his word and gave her many, many orgasms that night.

The next time they tried orgasm denial, they succeeded. George listened to Hermione and didn't even breathe on her clit. The nipple clamps ratcheted up the sensations in a way Hermione had never considered before. It was... a revelation. He brought her to the brink and backed off so many times that Hermione was close to shouting her safe word, just to make it stop, but she trusted George and he promised her he would get her there.

And then... that final time he had his fingers on her g-spot and the chain attached to the nipple clamps in one hand and then... then he tongued her clit at just the right angle that Hermione exploded so fiercely she blacked out. She groaned as the waves of orgasms flowed through her, tightening every muscle in her body and flooding her bloodstream with pleasure. She panted and opened her eyes to see George smirking down at her, looking like the cat that got the cream.

"Good?" he asked.

She laughed breathlessly. "Fucking amazing, as you are well aware."

"You squirted," he said, biting that bottom lip.

"Oh, Godric," Hermione moaned and covered her face with her hands. She'd never squirted before and wasn't quite sure how she felt about it.

"Oh, don't worry Granger. It was fucking hot as hell to see." She peeked through her fingers to see him still staring down at her with a face she had never seen before. She removed her hands and realized that the pressure against her thigh was his cock. She looked down to see it hard and weeping against her.

"You haven't come yet," she murmured, reaching her hand down to stroke him. He groaned and rolled over onto his back, giving her full access. Hermione was exhausted, but she scrambled to straddle him and slowly slid down his length. He grunted and grabbed her hips tightly as she began rocking against him. "You should come too."

"Yeah, I'd like that," he replied and tugged on the chain connecting her nipple clamps. That combined with her over-sensitive clit rubbing against his pubic bone had Hermione coming again. Nothing like before, but still harder than usual. She cried out and shuddered on top of him as he tightly held her hips and pumped up into her.

A few weeks after experimenting with orgasm denial—something they both liked but it was too intense for Hermione every time—George came to her with another request.

"Bondage. Thoughts?" he asked. They were naked and lying in bed, but hadn't done more than kiss and touch each other.

"Who's getting tied up here?" she asked, trailing a hand down his chest, tweaking a nipple as she went. She liked to play dot to dots with the freckles on his chest.

He bit his lips and blew out a breath. "You. If you want. Or me, if you'd prefer, but given your inclinations..." he trailed off. They both knew she wasn't coming unless the sex was just this side of rough. A little pain made the pleasure all that much sweeter.

"Yeah, alright," Hermione agreed. "Same safe word."

"Of course," he replied giving her a brilliant grin. "I've got a spell if that's alright? Or would you prefer the Muggle way?"

"Tonight? Don't you come prepared," Hermione said with a laugh.

"Always, Granger." The heat in his eyes was enough to get Hermione's heart racing.

"A spell is fine," she said a little breathlessly.

He rolled over to the side of the bed and fished his wand out of his robes. "Get comfy. We'll just tie your hands to the headboard, that alright?"

"Sure," Hermione said, giving him a small smile. She laid in the center of the bed and raised her arms above her head, gripping the bars of her headboard.

George murmured the spell under his breath, twirling his wand in a complicated pattern, and white, silk scarves flew out the end sliding and wrapping themselves along Hermione's arms in a smooth caress that made her shiver. They tied themselves into knots, wrapping around the headboard as well. She couldn't see them, but they flashed white and warmed against her skin for a moment. Hermione pulled on her arms, testing the strength, but they seemed tied tightly.

"I like having you at my mercy," George said, his brown eyes big as they roved over her body. Hermione felt like she should be over her blushes at this point in their relationship, but she couldn't help it when her face warmed at his clear compliment.

"Get down here," Hermione said, wishing she could reach for him.

"Not quite yet," he replied, running a finger down the center of her chest. It was feather-light and Hermione found herself holding her breath as he trailed it first over one breast and then another. "Breathe, Granger," he murmured, thumbing her nipple. She gasped and threw her head back, her back arching.

There was something about his touch that was more electrifying than usual. An insistent ache throbbed at her core. She didn't know if it was being tied up or a side effect of the bondage spell, but something was making his touch feel completely amazing.

"George," she gasped when he leaned down and licked her nipple. She arched her back as much as she could with her arms tied above her head, trying desperately to get him to touch her. Suddenly, all she wanted was for George to have his hands on her. Everywhere. "Fuck, George, I need you."

"Godric, Granger," he murmured, cupping both of her breasts. He licked one and then the other in a dizzying pattern that was driving Hermione properly insane.

"Please, please! I can't wait," Hermione said, she had her thighs pressed together trying desperately for some friction between her legs.

"Fuck, I underestimated how much I'd like seeing you like this," George groaned dropping his head to the valley between her breasts and taking a deep breath. "You're so fucking hot."

"George," Hermione groaned, trying to wrap her legs around his waist, but he was laying off to the side. "Please."

"Yeah, alright," he murmured pressing a kiss to the spot directly between her breasts and then situating himself so that he was laying on top of her. His hips were cradled between her legs. She tilted her pelvis as much as she could, wrapping her legs around him. He entered in one swoop that had them both groaning. There wasn't anything that special about this sex, not like some of their previous encounters, but there was something that Hermione couldn't quite put her finger on that made this better, more special. Everything about it felt better. George's skin on hers was the best it ever felt. His cock stroked her in all the ways she needed and it wasn't long before she was falling over the cliff of pleasure, shouting out George's name and wishing, fervently, that her hands were free and she could use them to clutch at his shoulders.

He grunted into her shoulder as he came a moment later. Despite her eyes being closed, Hermione could see the flash of gold that was emitted the moment George came.

"What the fuck was that?" she asked. George grunted again but didn't respond, panting against her. After a long moment, he rolled off of her. "Untie me," she demanded.

After fumbling for his wand for a moment George whispered the counterspell and Hermione's hands were free. "Did you see that gold light?" she asked urgently, pulling the sheet up to cover her. She had no idea what it was, but something about it made her very nervous.

"Uh, what golden light?" George asked, looking around the bedroom. "Are you alright?"

"Right when you came, a bright gold light flashed. You didn't see it?" Hermione asked.

George's face became so pale his freckles stood out more than usual against his skin. "When I came?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"What does it mean?" Hermione asked, now feeling scared by the reaction George was having.

"I fucked up, oh Merlin." George dropped his head into his hands, muttering to himself over and over again.

"What did you fuck up?" Hermione was now slightly freaking out, but trying to stay calm. One of them had to and George looked like he was about to be sick.

"A gold flash during sex, particularly a climax indicates some sort of bond," George replied tonelessly, refusing to meet her gaze.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means I seem to have picked the exact wrong bondage spell, Granger." Finally, he looked up at her and the look in his eyes of horror mixed with disappointment made Hermione's heart lurch in her chest.

"So we're bound? How? What kind of bond is it?"

"It's probably a soulmate bond," he replied, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. "I... fuck... I really fucked this up."

"Can it be undone?" Hermione asked breathlessly. "Can the soulmate bond be undone? So we aren't soulmates?"

George laughed bitterly. "No," he said shortly. "No, once the spell is cast, it works on our souls to make us perfect matches. Even if we could undo the bond portion of it, we're now essentially made for each other, Hermione. We'd pine for the other. We'd..." he trailed off and shook his head. "Godric, what a mess."

"Get out," Hermione said as calmly as she could. She didn't feel calm at all. A storm was raging inside her as she tried to come to terms with what he was saying."Get the fuck out of my house."

George looked taken aback for a minute but then he nodded. He gathered his clothes quickly and within five minutes the front door to her flat was slamming shut after him. Hermione buried her head into her hands and cried. It wasn't often she lost control of her emotions like this, but the fact that within the space of a few minutes she was soulbound to her fuck buddy was a little too much for her to take in.

She was feeling such overwhelming despair that she almost couldn't move. It just seemed to keep coming in waves and waves and she had no idea what it meant or what she could do about it.

Hermione existed in that state of perpetual dread and doom for close to two weeks before she decided she needed to do something about it. She had no idea if it was a side effect of the soulbond or the spell or what, but she couldn't live like this. If George was her soulmate, then he was her soulmate. She clearly couldn't live without her soulmate and she hadn't seen him at all since she had ordered him out of her flat.

So she went looking for him. Verity confirmed he hadn't been at the shop in weeks, that he owled instructions and new prototypes. Molly shook her head when Hermione went to the Burrow to look for him. She thought the Burrow was a bit of a long shot, but with him not being at the shop, it was the next most likely, but apparently not. Perhaps one of his siblings? She hoped he didn't run away to Romania because the idea of Portkeying to Romania made her feel exhausted like she hadn't ever felt before. Not even during the war.

So she decided to start with Bill and work her way through the list. She hoped he was at Bill's. She needed him to be at Shell Cottage because already her energy was flagging. This feeling hanging over her like Damocles Sword was wearing on her in ways she hadn't actually known were possible.

The moment she Apparated to Shell Cottage she started feeling a little better. Perhaps it was the bracing sea air, but Hermione felt almost invigorated for the first time in weeks as she made the short walk from out of the Apparition wards and to the front door.

"Oh, thank Merlin you're here, Hermione," Fleur said with a slight accent as she opened the door to Hermione. "George is upstairs and looks as if he was on death's door."

"Why? What happened?" Hermione asked, suddenly terrified that something horrible had happened to George in the weeks while she wallowed.

"Och," Fleur waved her hand. "It is the soulbond. It does this when away from your soulmate, you know."

"No," Hermione said, eyes widened, "it's not like Hogwarts covers bollocks like soulmates and soulbonds, Fleur. I have next to no information on them."

"Oh, well, go see George. He will tell you," she waved Hermione upstairs and went back to the kitchen. Hermione glared after her and then hurried up the stairs. Shell Cottage held its own kind of horrific memories for Hermione as she remembered recovering here after their escape from Malfoy Manor. She shuddered when she realized George was in the same room she had spent so many weeks in.

"George?" she said, tapping on the door. It was cracked open and she pushed it further open to see him on the bed. He was sleeping, but fitfully, as if running from his demons in a nightmare and Hermione's heart clenched in her chest at the sight of him. He looked horrible, probably as bad as she felt. And then the guilt came. She had sent him away. Her soulmate. The person who was her perfect match. Did it matter how it happened? She was no longer part of the singles club.

She slid out of her shoes and slid into the bed with George, wrapping her arm around him and burying her face into the middle of his back. She was so tired. They could talk once they both had rested. He grabbed her hand in one of hers, holding her hand to his chest, and sighed in his sleep. Within moments, Hermione was asleep too.

When Hermione woke up, it was to find George wrapped around her like a blanket.

"I'm so glad you're here," he murmured into her neck as his arms flexed, tightening around her.

"We need to talk," Hermione said, squirming until she could turn over and face him. George reached a hand out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, stroking her face with his fingers. It felt wonderful and all Hermione wanted to do was to lean into the sensation, but she couldn't. Not yet.

"Whatever you need," he replied, looking at her with such admiration that it hurt Hermione's heart.

"I just need to know that this wasn't done on purpose. That it really was an accident. I've gathered that we'll both feel awful unless we are in the presence of each other often."

"Yeah, that's right," George gave a slight nod and swallowed hard. "I swear to every god, goddess, and deity in the world that this was a fuck up, Granger. I didn't trap you on purpose. I understand if you're angry about it, fuck, I'm kind of angry about it too."

"I'm not angry," Hermione assured him. "Not really, more just, shocked. And trying to come to terms with it all..." she trailed off, dropping her gaze from his and taking a deep breath. "Are... are you upset it's me?" she whispered.

"Oh, oh, fuck, Granger, Hermione no!" George rushed to say. He cupped her face, raising it so he could look at her in the eyes. "Fuck, I'm angry it happened, not that it's you. I thought..." he swallowed hard again, and if Hermione wasn't mistaken there was a sheen in his eyes that indicated he was precariously close to crying. "I thought you wouldn't want anything to do with me. That you would think I trapped you on purpose. That when you kicked me out that I would never see you again. And it took a minute for me to realize that it wasn't the spell that was causing those feelings. I mean, sure it was causing some of them, but mostly, it was me. I..." he trailed off and shook his head, then let out a small, bitter chuckle. "I think I might have fallen in love while I was trying to find ways to rock your world."

"You did?" Hermione asked, breathlessly.

"Yeah, yeah I did. I love you," he told her. The look in his eyes, the sound of his voice, the pure sincerity he was giving off was all Hermione needed to convince her that he was telling the truth. He had fallen in love with her before the soulmate spell. It was... she wasn't sure what it was, but flattering came to mind.

How did she feel about George? If the soulmate spell hadn't happened, if there was an actual choice, would she have fallen in love with him too? Maybe. She bit her lip because she couldn't come up with a definitive answer for that and it made her unsure.

"Tell me," George said, his voice quietly insistent. "I can see you thinking hard, tell me what you're thinking."

"Even if it's not what you want to hear?" Hermione asked, her voice suddenly hoarse.

"I want to know what's the truth," George said.

"I don't know if I would have come to love you," Hermione admitted, "without the spell. I don't... I'm not... fuck!"

The tears came then and George pulled her close, comforting her and wiping her tears from her face. "I don't care," George told her. "I have enough love for the both of us. That is... unless you aren't—"

Hermione pulled back. "It's not that I don't love you, George. I do. I just can't figure out if it's the real me loving you, or if it's the soulbond spell making me love you."

"A spell can't induce love," George told her. "Even a soulbond can't make you love someone. It can give attraction and compatibility and companionship, but love? No spell or potion or any other kind of magic can create true, real love."

"So, the fact that I love you means that it is the real me?" she whispered.

"Yeah," he replied, nodding his head. "Yeah, I think that's the real you. Despite the spell. Maybe it would have taken you longer to come to terms with it, but I think you would have fallen in love without it too."

Hermione cracked a smile. "Awfully confident, all of a sudden."

"How can I not be? The most beautiful witch in all of Britain has decided she loves me. And it turns out we're soulmates. No matter what happens in the future, you're mine and I'm yours and that... that Granger is the best feeling there is."

Hermione leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. "I think that is something I can agree with," she murmured. "I love you."

"Oh, Merlin, I love you too," he replied and then pushed her onto her back as he deepened the kiss.

~Fin~