#George Weasley x Reader angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

weasleys-wizard-writes · 2 years

Note

i know your requests are open for the prompts but I just saw this post that would make a really cute imagine: george x reader in the shower. Reader washes geroge's hair and kisses his back etc just something cute could turn into smut if you feel like it but yeah !

Waiting on a Magpie

George Weasley x Reader

I expanded upon this idea quite a bit, so I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you wanted, anon, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

This was a lot of fun to write, and this ask gave me a lot of inspiration, so if anyone wants to see more fics about this particular George and Y/n let me know and I might turn it into a series about various important moments within their life together and the consistent presence their strangely familiar magpie friend :)

Genre: Fluff, Minor Angst

Content Warnings:

Slight angst

Mentions of death

Mentions of depression

Mentions of grief

Word Count: 6,629

This day of the year was never an easy day for George, in fact, it was never really an easy day for any member of the Weasley family. Five years ago on this very day, Frederick Gideon Weasley went to fight in a war that he would not survive, leaving his friends and family to mourn him for years to come. Everyone who knew Fred took the news of his death hard, but no one took it harder than George. It had taken you six months to get him to leave the home he had once shared with his brother, and another year after that for you to get him to open his shop again. And even now, five years later, there were still many things that George needed to work on in order to truly feel whole again. But there wasn’t a person out there who wouldn’t say that he was doing much better than before.

All week you had been preparing for this day, for how hard it would be on your boyfriend, and how hard it would be for his family as well, whom the two of you were planning on visiting for lunch later on in the day. You had expected it would take a lot of effort to get George out of bed, and even more to get him to actually get ready for his day. But to your surprise when you woke up you were alone in bed. You sat up slowly, looking to either side of the room in an effort to locate George, your eyes adjusting to the dim light of the extremely early morning as it filtered in through your sheer curtains. You had bought them a few years back when the doctor had recommended George have more light in his bedroom to help with his depression, and there they had hung ever since. You smiled faintly at the realization of just how far your boyfriend had come before looking to the alarm clock at your bedside, finding yourself surprised at just how early it was. 5:45am the clock read, nearly causing you to rub your eyes to make sure you were seeing things correctly.

George Weasley, your George, who you struggled to bribe out of bed each morning, was awake at 5:45am on a Saturday? That was unheard of for any weekday, let alone the weekend when he opened the shop late in an effort to sleep in. Your eyes scanned the bedroom once again as you tried to figure out where George had gone, stopping suddenly when you caught sight of the sliver of light that was shining out from under the closed bathroom door. You sat up in bed, squinting at the light as you tossed your legs over the side of the mattress, shivering as the cool morning air hit your bare skin. Feeling around with your feet for a few moments, you worked to locate your slippers, which you slid your cold toes into the very moment they were found.

Yawning as you stood, you started quietly making your way to the bathroom, the idea of making any noise in the nearly complete silence of the early morning feeling almost illegal. The silence felt right, as if the whole world were asleep except for you and presumably George, and disrupting it would almost assuredly break the solemn peace you had found within its perseverance.

Slowly approaching the bathroom, you reached out with a lightly clasped fist and knocked on the door, taking note of the sound of running water coming from within. You hadn’t heard it from the bed, but now that you were right next to the door it was apparent that George was in the shower.

Following your gentle knock, silence followed, the harsh slapping of water against the ground your only evidence that George was anywhere but back in bed, and the light beneath the door illuminating a long rectangle out into the middle of the floor. It felt strangely lonely out here without George and with all presence of him being behind the bathroom door, so slowly and carefully, you knocked again, a bit louder this time, although not loud enough that you would’ve thought it to awaken the world outside your window.

After this second knock, the slapping of the water against the shower floor grew quieter, as if whoever had been standing beneath it had stepped out, and a few seconds after you noticed the sound’s absence, George opened the door, a towel wrapped around his waist as steam arose from the bathroom behind him. He stood in the doorway, the shower still running behind him as he looked down at you, an apologetic grin on his face as he ran his hand through his soaked ginger hair.

“Sorry Love, did I wake you?” George asked gently, seemingly just as eager to keep the outside world asleep as you were. You smiled up at him as you shook you head, admiring the way that the light of the bathroom illuminated him from behind, casting a George shaped shadow across the floor in place of the once present rectangle of light.

“I don’t think so, although I do miss you back in the bed. What are you doing up so early, Mr. Weasley?” You teased gently, watching as the man in front of you chuckled in response, shrugging his shoulders before opening his mouth to respond,

“Not entirely sure myself, Ms. L/n, just woke up and thought I could do with an early start and a morning shower. Care to join me? I’m always happy to have your company, especially when you don’t have any clothes on.”

George winked in an exaggerated manner, which caused you to blush and roll your eyes before you were suddenly hit with a random burst of cool air from the not very well sealed bedroom window, which made you to shiver in response.

“You know what George? I might just take you up on that.”

You replied, watching as the man in front of you smiled, stepping to the side to let you into the bathroom behind him, the light flooding outward as he did so.

Squinting at the suddenly much brighter light, you stepped into the bathroom, hearing George shut the door behind you before you turned to face him, watching as he hung his towel back on the hook that had been screwed into the door, stretching a bit afterward as if there were still a bit of sleep lodged between his bones.

You smiled at him as he pushed the shower curtain back, his eyes meeting yours as he started to step in,

“I’m gonna get back in here before I drip water everywhere, Love, but feel free to hop in when you’re ready.”

You nodded in response in response before you slowly started to undress, taking off your sleep shirt and underwear before you lined your slippers neatly beside the bathroom door, smiling softly when you noted that George had lined his own up just on the other side. He truly was your other half.

For a moment, you started getting caught up in that thought, thinking back to the times when your relationship hadn’t been nearly as stable and comfortable as it was now. It had been a long time since you and George had started dating back in your sixth year, but even then nothing seemed as real as it did these days, you were just teenagers in love back then, after all, not two adults who had managed to stick together through thick and thin. Back then, the hardest thing the two of you had ever gone through together was asking one another to the Yule Ball, and from there things had just gotten harder and harder.

The year after that Fred and George had left just months prior to what would have been your collective graduation, and in the end you were the only one who walked, the entire Weasley family cheering from the crowd. Those months apart from George, feeling slightly abandoned and lonely, those were the hardest thing you had ever gone through pertaining to your relationship at that time, and the times that came after that made it look easy.

The next year had marked the successful start of the joke shop, which took up the majority of George’s time and a good chunk of your own as well, especially once you started working there in an effort to support your favorite twins. That year had been hard, you could recall how different your relationship had felt once George had basically become your boss, and how little time the two of you got to spend together as a couple despite moving in together. Even still, you couldn’t help but look back on those days with a painful sort of longing. Despite the long hours and hard to navigate aspects of your relationship, that year had been full of so much laughter and joy. The joke shop was deemed a success by all who saw it, and that look of bright and beautiful pride that could be seen in both Fred and George’s eyes had made everything worth it. But above all else, what had made that year so hard to look back on now was how unaware you and George had been about what was to come.

The year after the shop opened was when everything went crazy, and you had started to wonder for the first time if your relationship could withstand the challenges life had been throwing your way.

As quickly as the shop had opened, it had been closed again due to the Ministry of Magic keeping such a close eye on your boyfriend’s family, which you had learned the hard way included you when you had gone to visit family of your own. Even still though, the physical shop having to close paled in comparison to when George got injured not long afterward.

You shuddered to think about it, how pale he had been, how terrified Fred and his father had looked, the blood that had run down the side of his face, and the fragility his body had suddenly appeared to take on. It had taken a mountain of effort not to cry when he’d been brought inside, with you having ultimately chosen to tend to Fred and Molly rather than address the reality of George’s injuries yourself. Everything was real now that he had been hurt. Even when he had made that stupid joke, you remember how dire everything felt, and how you’d wondered in those moments if anything would ever be okay. If the rest of that year had been any indication, the answer would have been no.

The wedding had been the next big event to go wrong, and that had felt huge at the time. George had been on the mend, acting his usual self again, and everyone was trying to move forward despite all of the stresses surrounding life at that time, when the wedding was crashed. After that, the subtle talk of you and George getting married soon stopped entirely. There were no more jokes from George or even his beloved twin about a shotgun wedding to make sure his last name would be on your tomb stone were anything to happen. At that point, the idea of death had felt far too real.

Unfortunately though, death wanted to do much more than just feel real.

When Fred died, you were almost certain that your relationship was over. George wouldn’t talk to you for weeks, and when he finally did he was so devastated and angry about what had happened that you could hardly believe he was the George you had fallen in love with at all. He was so incredibly broken, and at that point in time you couldn’t imagine it ever hurting any less. Your heart had been shattered, and George’s had been splintered beyond recognition, leaving neither of you up to the task of working on or even addressing your own relationship. You had tried countless times before giving up, but with the stress of everything and the loss that you’d faced, after enough insistence from George you had simply given up, telling yourself you were just giving him space, but believing in your heart that the two of you were finished.

George still apologizes to this day for his behavior during that, but you could never bring yourself to blame him, not in a million years.

You can remember so vividly how hard it had felt to breathe when you had woken up in the middle of the night sobbing over Fred, months after his death and weeks after all but giving up hope on your broken relationship. You can remember the way that George had held you tightly, as if afraid you would both fall apart if he so much as loosened his grip. You recalled telling him the following morning of your difficulty breathing the night before, and the way he’d furrowed his brows and pulled you against his chest, admitting quietly that he’d felt that feeling every moment since Fred had passed away five months prior. That was the first discussion the two of you’d had about Fred’s death, and the first time since a few weeks in that the two of you hadn’t simply pretended like everything was okay, and that you weren’t both devastated on the inside.

The path from there had been far clearer than it had been since Fred had died, but even still you recalled the uphill battle that really and truly supporting George had been. It had taken over a year for him to reopen the joke shop, and even now, still living above it, he didn’t like touching his brother’s bedroom. All these years later, hardly a thing had been moved into or out of that space, and there were so many things in there that hadn’t been disturbed since Fred had touched them entire months before his death. The air in that room felt heavy, and the dust that had settled over everything was painful to look at, so most of the time that room was respectfully avoided, save for when George felt he needed to be alone with his brother.

“Love?”

You were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts as George called out to you from the shower, his head peeking around the curtain and his eyebrow raised.

“Are you alright?” He said gently, reaching a wet hand out to feel your forehead for a temperature, making you giggle softly at his concern.

“I’m fine, George.” You replied, motioning for him to move over to make room for you within the large shower. A soft smile spreading across his cheeks, George was quick to do just that, stepping back so you could stand before him, the water bouncing off of his chest before gently landing on your cheeks, dripping down onto your shoulders as you moved to step closer to your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest against his own as you stood on your toes to kiss him softly.

George reciprocated your kiss with the same gentle movements that you had approached him with, his arms moving to rest on your waist for a few moments as he leaned into you, savoring every second of closeness. Finally, after what felt like several minutes of one long kiss, you pulled away, smiling as George leaned his forehead against your own, his own smile dancing across his lips.

“Good morning, love, mine.” You all but whispered, brushing some of George’s stray hair behind his ears as he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing while he rested his cheek against your palm.

“Good morning, Darling.” George whispered back, pressing a gentle kiss to your wrist before he opened your eyes once again, that smile on his lips making your heart clench. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, and he was all yours. What had you done to deserve such a perfect love?

There was silence for a few moments as you and George simply stood in the shower, the water splashing about against the floor and the walls only to be ignored entirely. It was peaceful in here, locked away from the still sleeping world outside, and neither of you wanted to be the one to end the silence for fear the peace would end just as quickly as you’d found it.

Even still, you knew what today was, and you knew George could never bring himself to destroy any amount of peace, however small it may have been, on a day like this one, so you opened your mouth, offering without warning to shampoo George’s hair for him. The edge of your boyfriend’s mouth quirked up in pleasant surprise as he looked down at you for a few moments before nodding, handing you the shampoo that had been sitting on the shower ledge behind him before he moved closer, his chest pressed up against your own once more as you gently squeezed the bottle of shampoo in your hand, watching as the pearlescent liquid dripped down before it began to pool in the center of your palm. Slowly and calmly, so as not to make a mess, you rubbed your hands together, causing the shampoo to create suds within them before you brought your hands up to George’s hair, where you began to massage the soap into it in a slow in loving manner.

“George?”

You murmured softly, watching as the man in front of you cracked one of his now closed eyes open to look down at you as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Yes, Love?”

George murmured back, taking a deep breath in as you continued to massage at his scalp, his body relaxing under your touch.

“Are you… Doing okay?”

You asked cautiously, watching as the man in front of you smiled softly in response, one of his hands moving up to cup at your cheek, pinching at the flesh there for a brief moment before dropping back down to his side,

“Better than I thought I would be.”

George replied honestly, his eyes closing once more as he continued,

“I’m feeling heavier than usual, like there’s something pushing down on my shoulders, and my head feels rather foggy, but besides that I would say I’m doing… Okay… All things considered.”

George finished his sentence cautiously, as if he were worried you might misconstrue his words for him saying he felt fine. You could tell by the way that he was speaking and how his body was tensed up that he was upset, but his words let you know that it wasn’t as hard this year as it had been in the past. He was healing, slowly but surely, and right now, he could safely say that he was going to be alright, and that the weight in his chest would not last forever.

And truthfully, that was all either of you could ever ask for.

Nodding softly in response to your boyfriend’s words, you continued to massage to shampoo into his hair until finally, you took a step back, admiring your work with a soft grin.

“You may rinse, Mr. Weasley.”

You teased gently, making George smile that familiar smile of his that just barely met his eyes (the best thing you could honestly ask for on a day like today) before he took a step back into the stream of shower water, rinsing his hair thoroughly. Meanwhile, you continued to stand before him, watching as the soap trickled down his body and circled the drain.

By the time you and George exited the bathroom together, it was just growing bright enough outside that you could begin to believe that others beside yourselves might be awake. The clock beside the bed now read 6:30am, and the morning sun was rising to the point that you were sure it would have blinded you through the curtains had you been in your usual spot in the bed. You silently thanked George for keeping you from that gruesome fate before you walked over to your closet, towel wrapped around your body as you tried to find something to wear for your yearly lunch visit with Fred, which was something the entire family had started partaking in after George had shared that he had been doing it three years prior.

“Fred would want you to wear that orange dress.”

You heard George say from behind you, making you startle a bit before giggling and turning around, only to find the sight behind you to be no laughing matter.

There stood George, tears pooling in his eyes as he looked past you and into the closet, his fingers twitching at his sides as he swallowed thickly.

Unsure of what to do, you took a step towards your boyfriend, watching as his eyes moved to see you rather than the clothes behind you, the pain in them evident as he spoke,

“He was always saying how nice you looked in orange. Told me I should’ve complimented you on it more. Lee and Seamus always told him he was a real weirdo for saying things like that about my girlfriend, but they just didn’t understand. Freddie loved you like a sister. He was so excited for the day he could call you a member of the family.”

The tears were rolling down George’s cheeks now, slowly but surely making their way down to his chin, where they would drip down on to the floor below. One of the many dreadful things Fred’s death had taught you was of the path that George’s tears took when they traveled down his face. You had memorized it long ago, and your fingers had traced that path many a time as a result, just as they began doing once you finally closed the distance between the two of you.

“Oh George,” You began softly, feeling your own tears begin to well up before you took a moment to bite them back down again.

“Why don’t I wear the orange one then? And you can wear that brown jumper he gave you for your birthday all those years ago. He always said brown and orange were the best color combination, no matter how many times I insisted they looked too similar.”

Your own tears flowed freely by the time you had finished speaking, and George gave you a sad smile as he reached down to dry your tears as well, nodding softly at your words.

“That sounds great, Love.”

His voice sounded strained as he spoke, and you could tell he was fighting back more tears, but you decided to leave him be for the time being. George never talked before he was ready, and there was nothing you could do but respect that and hope he came around so you could help him once he felt prepared to process whatever grief driven thought had made its way into his mind.

Six hours later, you stood in front of the doorway, sliding your shoes on as you called out to George, who was rummaging around in the kitchen.

“George? I’m ready to go when you are!”

You shouted out to the silent house, listening closely as you waited for a response.

Said response came in the form of heavy footsteps walking in your direction as George made his way over to you, a picnic basket in hands as he held out his arm to you, that gentle and sad smile spreading across his cheeks,

“Come on then, Mum will be pleasantly surprised that we’re on time for once.”

“And it only took getting up three hours early.”

You retorted, giggling softly as George let out a chuckle at your words, looking down at you as if you were the most beautiful woman in the world as you both prepared to head to your destination.

“Y/n! George!”

Arthur called out in greeting as you arrived at the burrow, and you squeezed George’s hand gently, ensuring he was ready to walk over to that oh so familiar plot of land nearby his childhood home before you took even a step towards the cheery voice of his father. George squeezed your hand in response, his eyes never leaving the headstone that stuck out of the ground just a few yards away, donning his last name but not his first.

You greeted Arthur politely, leaving George’s side as he walked onward, allowing you to give the man a hug, which he seemed to appreciate.

“The house has been rather quiet lately,”

Arthur began saying as you pulled away, making you raise a brow at him,

“I hope you and George know that you’re always welcome here. He hasn’t been by to stay the night since he moved back out, and I imagine he has his own reasons for that but… I think Molly might appreciate a little bit more noise around here once in a while.”

“Are you asking when they’re finally going to give us our next grandchild?”

Molly’s all too casual voice suddenly rang out from your left, and your cheeks went red as you slowly began to process what she’d asked her husband, who was now awkwardly clearing his throat to your right. You looked over in George’s direction, praying he hadn’t heard (neither of you had even mentioned children since months before Fred had passed away), but much to your chagrin he was looking right at you, his brown eyes all but burning into your own as an amused smile rose to his cheeks at your embarrassed expression.

“Are you going on about grandchildren again already, Mum.”

George asked casually, standing up from where he had been squatting beside his brother’s grave to move to your side, where he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Again?!”

You all but shouted in surprise, turning to face your boyfriend with your eyebrows raised. George shrugged his shoulders, a slight grin on his face as he did so,

“She brings it up just about every time she sees me, has been since you graduated and Fred and I opened the shop.“

Your eyes widened in surprise. Sure, you and George had talked about kids in the past, but you’d had no idea he’d even thought about it in the slightest since Fred had passed away. He certainly hadn’t mentioned anything to you.

“Oh I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable, Dear. Arthur and I just like to give George a bit of trouble for being so secretive and never visiting his poor old mother and father.”

George rolled his eyes,

“I was here a week ago, Mum, and I come over for lunch at least once a month.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that we never know what’s going on with you anymore. You could have a child at home right now and I wouldn’t even know it!”

George rolled his eyes once again, a deep sigh leaving him as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Usually he would take this all in good spirits, but clearly he was unable to make his usual jokes to get out of this conversation today.

“Alright Mum, I’m sorry okay? There just isn’t much to tell. I’ve said all that I can about why I haven’t gone about adulthood the way you expected me to. I made a promise and-”

George cut himself off suddenly, his gaze shifting to focus on you for a moment before it moved back to his mother, who sighed and stepped forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“I know, George. I just worry that you’re holding yourself back in a way that you’ll regret. You know that isn’t what he’d want for you.”

Molly’s voice was soft and sad as she spoke, full of emotion and choked with held back tears as she looked up at her son, a desperate wish in her eyes that told you how terribly she wanted to look to the left of him and see an identical copy standing there, even though you all knew how much of an impossibility that was.

George nodded slowly, as if deep in thought before he leaned down to hug his mother, murmuring something in her ear that had more tears welling up in her eyes before he pulled away to wipe them with his finger, that sad smile once again present on his lips. Molly allowed a similar one to appear on her face as she stroked George’s slightly wet cheek, the pride in her eyes new but still obvious even as she took a step back to speak to her husband, her voice hushed.

There was silence amongst the entire family for a moment despite the children who were present before suddenly Arthur cleared his throat, asking that everyone follow him to the outdoor table to set up and eat lunch. You were just about to follow the group over when suddenly, you felt a familiar hand wrap around your upper arm. You turned around to face George slowly, a confused expression written on your face as you silently asked him without words what he was doing.

With his head, George gestured over to Fred’s headstone, before he slowly started to walk you over to it, allowing you to realize what he wanted. With careful and quiet steps, you approached the stone that marked the burial sight of one of your best friends in the world, a man you had so desperately wished to call your brother that the two of you had all but planned your and George’s wedding before he’d even asked you to the Yule Ball. Tears sprang to your eyes as you remembered all of the things the two of you had sworn you’d do together, all of the pranks you were supposed to pull on George, the ridiculous way that Fred wanted you to announce your pregnancy to his brother should you ever need to, the way Fred had made you swear on your life that you would name your first born child after him in exchange for the answers to a quiz you’d missed in potions during your first year at Hogwarts. The way he had rescinded that promise in your third year when you’d told him about the crush you had on his brother, since he “didn’t want to be Uncle Fred to a nephew named Fred, that would just be confusing”.

It all came flooding back to you, the memories of growing up with Fred as your dearest friend, and suddenly you were back in the Great Hall, falling to your knees beside your boyfriend, sobbing uncontrollably as you grasped at the cold hand that your devastated boyfriend wasn’t already holding. There had been many days since then that you’d found yourself wishing you’d never seen Fred like that, and many others where you would’ve willingly watched the life drain from his eyes if it could only mean getting the chance to say goodbye. Losing Fred was without a doubt the hardest thing you had ever been through, and sitting here in front of his grave now, even all these years later, just made it feel all the more real. Fred wasn’t somewhere safe with a family he had made unable to visit because he was busy. Fred Weasley was buried six feet beneath your feet, and no amount of wishing otherwise was ever going to change that.

You looked up at George sadly, tears falling freely now as he tilted your chin upward with his curved pointer finger, that sad smile still present even as he dried your tears.

“He made me promise to let him be here, you know.”

George said sadly, his eyes locked with your own,

“He said he needed to see the look on your face. Involved himself in every single part of the process. Hell, he let me keep his share of the money from the shop profits for two months straight to help me save up quick enough to buy the one he helped me pick out.”

George was crying now too, tears spilling down his cheeks, but he didn’t even try to stop them from coming, he was too busy drying your tears and cupping your cheek as he did so, his gaze never leaving yours even as he removed his hand to reach into his pocket.

“George?”

You questioned, your head tilting curiously as you tried to figure out what your boyfriend was saying, unaware of his changed position as he moved to kneel before you, pulling a small box out of his pocket. It wasn’t until George was holding that little box before you, his hand move to rest on the lid of it, that you started to understand what was going on.

“Y/n L/n, I have loved you for nearly eight years of my life, and I’ve been a lucky enough man to call you mine for over seven. This has been a long time coming, and I want to start off by telling you that I’m sorry for waiting so long to do this. Freddie and I spent so long planning the perfect way to ask you, finding the perfect ring, making the money to buy that ring, and then we thought that if we could just wait that awful war out, the perfect moment would come. Neither of us ever imagined I would be doing this without him here with me, and for years I’ve been carrying this damn box everywhere that we’ve gone hoping he might send some sort of sign that he’s there, but I just can’t wait on him anymore. In fact, if he were here now, I’m certain he’d be yelling that it’s about time, and that he can’t believe I ended up being that loser who had a girlfriend for seven years without asking her to marry me.”

You gasped at those words, stifling a sob as George took a deep breath and opened the box, allowing you to see the absolutely beautiful ring that sat inside, never worn despite the number of years George had apparently been carrying it on his person.

“Fred helped me pick it out, so if it’s no good blame him, okay, Love?” George joked nervously, his voice shaky and his hands the same as he continued,

“He said this was the one the second he saw it, and when I imagined it on that pretty finger of yours I knew that he was right, even if I was a little grumpy my brother found your perfect ring before I did. Godrich I wish he could see us now, I just know he’d cry if he could only get the chance to see you on our wedding day…”

George trailed off for a few seconds, his gaze getting far off before he suddenly seemed to snap himself out of it, the closest thing to a truly happy smile you’d seen all day coming to rest on his lips,

“But I guess I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, aren’t I? I mean, I haven’t even asked you the big question yet.”

George laughed quietly, shaking his head before he cleared his throat,

“Y/n L/n, will you marry m-”

George was cut off suddenly when a magpie burst forth from the nearby bushes and chirped aggressively, landing on the ground a few feet away before taking flight once again a few seconds later, landing on George’s shoulder and sitting there, it’s head tilting from side to side as if it was assessing the situation. George swallowed thickly as he looked down at it, his eyes filling up with even more tears as he nodded his head,

“Hey buddy,”

He whispered, his voice strained due to being choked with tears,

“Nice of you to join us. Did you have to wait so damn long?”

You watched as the bird let out a chirp, almost as if it were responding to what George had said before it moved once again, taking flight for the briefest of moments before landing atop the open ring box in George’s hand.

The magpie looked up at you, it’s head tilting in that same questioning manner it had been before as you slowly lowered your hands from your mouth, wiping your tears on the back of one of them before you looked back to George, speechless.

George swallowed thickly, clearly fighting back tears as he started again,

“Y/n L/n,”

He all but whispered, the love, adoration, and longing evident within his gaze as he continued,

“After all these years of waiting, could you find it in your heart to do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?”

Everything was silent for a moment, save for the slight chirps of the magpie sitting on the ring box.

Until finally, slowly but surely, you began nodding, until said nod transformed into an enthusiastic, “Merlin, George, of course I’ll marry you.” Before you were pulled into a gentle embrace, your lips connecting with your now fiance’s as you both laughed against one another’s mouths, the salt of your conjoined tears intermingling with the familiar taste of each other.

The kiss lasted quite a while, until finally, the sound of a birds chirping from below your lips caused you both to pull away, grinning down at the creature who still sat atop the open ring box, as if it were waiting.

George rolled his eyes, but reached into the box nonetheless, as if he was pleasantly exasperated with the bird. Slowly, he removed the ring, taking your hand gently within his own to slide it onto your left ring finger, before he took in the sight before him. Even the bird was silent this time, and it stared intently at the jewelry on your hand as if deeply thinking or even admiring.

George smiled, the first true smile that you had seen all day, and brought the ring up to his lips, kissing it gently before slowly lowering your hand back down.

He turned his gaze downward once again, to the top of the now empty ring box that the bird still sat on top of.

“Thanks, Mate,”

He muttered softly, reaching down to offer a finger to the creature, who eagerly hopped atop it, allowing George to raise him to eye level before he continued speaking once more,

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

The magpie sat there for a few moments, silently looking between you and George before it chirped again, a softer note this time, as if it were bidding the two of you farewell.

And with that, the magpie flew away, and you both followed its flight as it gently landed on the branch of a nearby tree, watching, as if it had been doing that its entire life.

“What’s going on over here?”

Molly’s voice sounded from behind you, nearly making you jump in surprise before you responded,

“There’s a bird up there in the tree, a magpie I think. It’s been acting a bit odd for a bird, it even landed on George’s finger and now it’s just sitting up there, watching us.”

Molly hummed gently before placing her hand on her son’s shoulder,

“Isn’t your patronus a magpie, Dear?”

She asked curiously, watching as George nodded, a soft smile on his face as he looked away from the bird for the first time since it had started to fly away. He gazed back at the two of you, taking a few steps forward as he started to head towards the now very busy lunch table a few yards away.

“It is, Mum.”

He answered softly,

“Was Freddie’s too.”

masterlist

Ko-fi

#George weasley x reader #george x reader #george weasley x reader fluff #george weasley x reader angst #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst #george weasley #harry potter x reader #george weasley fics #harry potter fics #fred weasley #fred weasley angst

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noelan1 · 4 months

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Do you ever read a really questionable fanfiction or a spicy love story and think "what the fuck did I just read"

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fredgeorgegredfeorge · 1 month

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Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

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vilentia · 9 months

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Physical Touch

George Weasley x reader

Summary: George Weasley discovers his love language of physical touch in his relationship, leading to a deeper understanding and connection.

Just wrote something short to get the idea out of my system.

****

In their sixth year at Hogwarts, George Weasley and you had stumbled into a relationship as unexpectedly as one might stumble upon a hidden room in the castle. It was fresh, exhilarating, and filled with the kind of magic that didn't require a wand.

In the bustling corridors and beneath the ancient trees of the Hogwarts grounds, George had a way of speaking without words. His fingers would absentmindedly play with a strand of your hair during study sessions, his hand would find yours under the table in the Great Hall, and during quiet moments in the common room, his thumb would draw invisible patterns on your skin. These small gestures were his language of affection, his way of saying you mattered in a world that was often too loud and chaotic.

One crisp autumn day, as you both lounged by the Black Lake, watching the giant squid's tentacles occasionally break the surface, Fred Weasley, George's inseparable twin, ambled over with a mischievous grin. "Merlin’s beard, George! Do you need a magical adhesive to keep your hands off her for a second?"

George's smile faltered, and a shadow of doubt crossed his face. You laughed it off, assuming it was just Fred being Fred, but something shifted in George after that.

He became hesitant, his touches fewer and more restrained. The corridors seemed colder, the classes longer, and the common room a bit less welcoming. You felt the change but couldn't understand it. Why had George, always so warm and playful, suddenly turned into a distant echo of himself?

One chilly evening, in a quiet corner of the library, surrounded by ancient tomes and the soft glow of candles, you decided to breach the silence. "George, what's wrong? You've been acting so differently."

He looked up from his book, his eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability you hadn't seen before. "I... Fred made a comment the other day. About me always touching you. I started thinking, maybe it's too much. Maybe I'm making you uncomfortable."

You reached out, your hand covering his. "George, do you know what love languages are?"

He shook his head, confusion written across his face.

"They're the ways we express and feel love. Yours, I think, is physical touch. It's not too much, George. It's just your way of showing you care. I love it. It makes me feel close to you."

A small, relieved smile broke through George's uncertainty. "Really? I never thought about it like that. I just... feel more 'me' when I'm close to you."

Grinning, you nudged his shoulder playfully. "Well, feel free to be 'you'. Hogwarts can be a big, lonely castle, but your touch makes it feel a lot more like home."

From that moment, George's hesitancy melted away. His touches returned, each one a silent word in a language only the two of you understood. And in the middle of a school full of magic and mysteries, you found comfort and warmth in the simplest magic of all - a touch, a look, a connection that needed no spells to be real.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley one shot #george weasley oneshot #george weasley angst #george weasley drabble #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fluff #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley x oc #george weasley x fem #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george weasley blurb

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cherry-pop-elf · 6 months

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Birthday Boys

It’s Fred and George’s birthday, and you wanted to give them something very special. It’s hard to give them something like that, but you are married to them for a reason. As if they would ever settle for someone boring, now would they?

Warnings: 18+, Double Penetration (A and V), teasing, breeding, overstimulation, dirty talk, birthday suits ((hehe)) lipstick kink(?) and of course Fred Lives. Because I said so ((George still missing an ear tho! Bleh-!))

“Well what’s this?” George would blink, as a paper airplane would land itself on his desk. Fred would raise a brow, as he set down the ink he had grabbed for his younger twin. It’s April First. The ever busiest day of the year, and their birthday as well. That meant they were swamped with work, and just trying to finish the day. The shop may be closed, now, but damn they were still drowning.

“Don’t just stare at it, open it up-!” Fred would bonk the younger twin, with his wand, making him fix at his hair. He would give a grumble, as he unfolded the neat little parchment. By the hand writing alone, he knew it was from you. What was written made him a bit flushed in the cheeks. Always was the more emotional of the two, so Fred was quick to look over his shoulder. Reading along.

To my special Birthday Boys. You two have been working so hard all day. Such a wonderful occasion deserves a present, doesn’t it? I better expect you to leave paper work for later, and hurry up to our bedroom. It gets rather chilly being all alone. I don’t want your present to get cold either. Not when I worked so hard to wrap it all up so nicely in purples and oranges. If you don’t want it, I’ll be more than happy to make use of it all myself. Sincerely yours~!

Never had they side alone aparated so fast in their life. Gave you quite the startle, to suddenly see them. You should have figured they wouldn’t waste time, but boy they move fast. Even after all these years together, it catches you by surprise. Though, this time they were the ones with wide eyes this time around.

There you were, in the middle of the bed, dressed to the nines. A array of orange, and purple, fabric against your skin. Stockings of lace. Done up so pretty to mimic that of a fire work, with little dots all around. The fingerless arm length gloves had to be, as to help bring focus to how bare the rest of you were. Nothing else to your skin, but your own birthday suit. Besides so heavy makeup, because you knew they loved it when it got all ruined. What really sold it was the bows all over you. Around your thighs, wrists, neck, just for the comical effect of a birthday present. Hey, it’s April Fools. Gotta get silly.

“H-“ Before you could get a single syllable out, they were on you. Like starving dogs. Clothes were flying, and your body was quick to be sandwiched between the two men. Your neck attacked in kisses, and their ever rough hands trailing your skin. Tracing all the invisible lines they had tracked on you.

“Guess you like the surprise-?” You joked, as you were leaning yourself against Fred. While George was enjoying your front. Sucking plenty of hickies on your skin, while Fred was enjoying playing with your nipples. Had you squeak, and flush, as he was enjoying the happily given toy.

“Taking that as a yes-“ You sighed, as you were just a meal for the wolves. Wolves that always had your flavor of flesh in mind. It just felt so good to be so desired. To be wanted so badly, it could hurt. Especially after such an exhausting day, they needed to get that pent up steam out.

“Been thinking about you all day long-“ George would sigh, as he stole your lips into his own. Happily allowing your lipstick to stain his own, while your hips rubbed onto the building hard on in Fred’s lap. Just a tangle of wild limbs, and you couldn’t have loved anything more.

“Come on, save some for me. Give em here-“ And you would be stolen by Fred next. Making sure he got his lips stained all the same. George didn’t complain, as he would let the lipstick residue trail over your exposured chest. Designing you, as Fred let his tongue do any talking he had left.

You enjoyed the sensual, and slow, pace. Made you fall into the mood far easier. But, you knew why they were being so gentle. Gentle starts always ended with you drooling and utterly delirious. They were going to destroy you, to your core, and that had you so hopeful.

“Just look at you.” They breathed, in unison, as you were just a doll in their hands. Your body leaning into Fred’s, with his legs spread to make sure you were comfortable. Meanwhile George was above you, on his knees, and taking in the sight. Just starving for you, while Fred was busy with the bedside table. Making sure to grab some lube, as you realized what you signed up for.

“Don’t say I never treat you.” That had them laugh, at your comment. Sweet little feathery kisses were given to your face, and neck, while the line was passed to each other. Slicking themselves up, before using the residue to make sure you were nice and comfortable. A thank you, for such a wonderful present.

“Wrapped up in such a pretty bow.” Fred sighed, as he stuck two fingers inside of you. That had you bite your lip, before the mimicking motion from George made it slip out. Fred was in your ass, and George was in your core. Able to copy each other’s movements in perfect unison. Some call it disturbing, you call it heaven.

“Damn, wet as hell. Don’t even need lube. We’re so excited to get to be our gift, weren’t you? Isn’t that sweet Fred-?” “Oh the ever sweetest George. We love it when you get excited. Gets us excited.” They echoed each other, while making sure to lather as much as they could. Knowing you would need it, and still remembering to put your needs first. Just gentle motions, as they made sure to cover as much as two fingers could. Teasing away at your sensitive spots, just to make you squirm.

“I can’t wait any more.” “Couldn’t have said it better myself.” And like that, the fingers were removed. You whined at it, which made them smirk. Now, you were feeling them pressed against you. They planned to go in, at the exact same time. It made your heart race. To imagine, being stuffed so quickly.

“How about we-“ But they broke through the tight barrier, and your mind was mush. Not so much from pain, just the over whelming sensation of being so full. To feel your insides grow so tight, as your muscles were being pulled yet pushed at the same time. Was a fluttery experience. Somehow so light, yet couldn’t be heavier.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ You heard Fred whisper into your ear, while your blurry eyes could make out that George was hardly able to keep his own open. Biting into his stained lip, as to not whimper too early. To last, but damn. You knew he was fighting for his life.

Once they were both fully inside, the three of you just stayed that way. A mixture of wanting to make sure you were adjusted, and them not wanting to end the game so soon. How embarrassing that would be. Least that meant you were being pampered. With heavy breathing, and wet kisses on your skin. A means to help you relax, and it worked.

“Lucky me, I get to be the first one to pump you full. Isn’t that nice of Fred? To let me be the one to pump your little womb full?” That had your face burn. Yeah, you three were trying, but none of you exactly went into to much details on how such a thing would plan out. Given Magic was involved, with everything, isn’t a dumb guess to think these two will somehow knock you up at the same time. Just made you all the more flushed, as Fred would rub over your stomach.

“Don’t worry. When he’s done with you, we will switch. I can’t just waste it all in your ass. I love that cute thing, but I love you being full of out kids more.” Fred moaned, as he finally moved his hips. Just in time with George’s. The feeling of two at once, in different holes. Truly a fuzzy experience.

Your hands found George’s shoulders, while Fred grabbed your legs. Keeping you spread as wide as they could, as they rocked their hips into you. Such perfect calculations to make sure your mind stayed in that blissful fuzz. Was leaving you with your nails into Georges skin.

“Come on, love. You gotta moan louder for me. I’m missing an ear over here. Give me some noise-!” George cackled, as Fred took that as a que to pick up the pace. Your head was rolling itself back, and leaned on Fred’s shoulder. Giving George exactly what he wanted, after all. Louder moans, whimpers, gasps, and plenty of smacking flesh to fill in between.

“So cock drunk, and the night hardly started.” Fred teases, as he bit into your shoulder. Needing to steady himself, but the feeling was too much. George would have agreed, if it were vocal. They were getting sloppy with their movements, and you wouldn’t last long either. Especially since George was now planting sloppy kisses against your lips. Leaving you two a jumble mess of spit and moans.

Hearing their desperate breaths, and whimpers of trying to hold on, it was what brought you over the edge. By proxy, your tightening grip in your body had them gasp. Their hips stuttering, as they came inside of you. Throbbing, and having a shake in their system.

Riding it out was such a warm feeling. Felt like everything was on fire, in all the best ways. Already so exhausted, and ready to just sleep, but….They weren’t making any April fools joke with you. Just as your eyes closed, they moved.

You have a squeak, before a breathy moan, as they pulled out. Left such a mess between all your legs, before you were flipped around. Your hands now on Fred’s chest, and ass presented to George. Out right lining up again.

“Perk-A-Boo~!” Fred teases, as he poked your nose. Just as you wiggled it, they thrusted right back into you. The stimulation of being restuffed was mind melting. Right after your high, and with so much already running down your legs. The sounds of all made were so loud, and wet. Was utterly thrilling.

Fred was happy to drink in your moans, hogging as many kisses as he could. Meanwhile George was happily feeling over your hips. Letting those hard working hands trace the lipstick marks shared between them both.

“Don’t do poor Georgie like that, come on. You gotta moan a little louder. His hearing isn’t so good.” Fred would tease, as he forced your chin up. Trying to amplify your desperate sounds. It was all too much. You were going to reach your peak again, with tears running down your face. Smearing away the remains of your makeup.

“Just hang on a little more. I want to make sure I get nice and deep in there.” Fred comforted, as George planted kisses down your back. Making sure your skin was covered in whatever remained of their lips.

Everything was so blurry, but you knew this. You came again, and your insides were coated once more. The ringing in your ears were dancing with the shakey moans of your lovers. So happy, and satisfied, with wrecking you so much.

When you came back to reality, you realized the lingerie you wore was gone. Seems they made sure to give you a sponge bath, before they were knocked out. You between them, as they snuggled you.

Fred behind you, as he held your stomach. Ever a man that loved feeling your ass against him. Meanwhile George was infront of you, tangling your legs together, as he snuck his arms just above Fred’s. His face under your chin, so he could listen to your heart beat.

“Happy birthday, you two.” You whispered, as you made sure they both were kissed on their heads. Freckled smiles crossed their lips, as they snuggled closer. Fred, enjoying his nose in your neck, while George gave you a squeeze. Maybe you should gift wrap yourself more often.

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dreamcubed · 5 months

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hp fanfic recs!!

hello all! i feel like i dont interact enough with this community, so here's some recs for you all (i do follow these people, on my main blog @emptytakeawaycup) give them a follow too!

mattheo riddle;

we aren't over (18+) - @slytherinslut0

summary; fwb gets jealous seeing you kiss another guy at a party after the two of you had called things off

this love - @wordsarelife

summary; mattheo finally asks you to be his girlfriend

let me ruin fuck you (18+) - @slytherinslut0

summary; worried that mattheo was just going to use you for sex and leave, you had him agree to courting you first until you felt you were ready to take it to the next level. after months of this, mattheo finally can’t take it anymore, and lands himself on his knees at your feet

theodore nott;

the cat chronicles - @obsessedwithceleste

summary; five times theodore nott *accidentally* stole your cat

darling socialite - @fangisms

summary; you are talkative as all hell, and theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener

just like your boyfriend - @angelfrombeneth

summary; you and theodore are the new it couple in hogwarts. theo's known for always causing up a stir but never you. at least you do yours in private. it isn't until your faced with skylar snaggle, the one girl you can't stand that you break that streak

too many nights - @priniya

summary; theodore nott spent too many nights, smoking and hanging out with matt’s little sister to not make her his girlfriend

second hand smoking - @evergone

summary; a short one where theo teaches the reader how to smoke

i'm [nott] a bad person - @evergone

summary; the reader and theo are accused of causing a fight, but they swear they didn't do it

an unintended double date - @papercorgiworld

summary; enzo doesn’t want you ruining his date so he calls in back up to keep you busy, which leads to an interesting date

fred weasley;

something that we're not - @sergeantbuckybarnes

summary; you and fred are friends. best friends. who happen to cuddle and sleep in bed together all the time

anything - @ibbythebee

summary; fred would do anything to see you, "hogwart's strictest prefect", loosen up

first time (18+) - @frenziedfireworks

summary; you've been trying to figure out how to bring up sex to your boyfriend...

george weasley;

blindsided - @desideriumwriter

summary; as the gryffindor quidditch team celebrates their win on the field, malfoy begins to openly throw insults in front of george and fred towards them, their parents, harry, and you. george isn’t able to ignore and shrug off his mockery. it only ends in a shocking altercation between the redheaded gryffindor and sneering slytherin

blaise zabini;

everything i'll ever need - @slytherinslut0

summary; your boyfriend whisks you away from the enchanting yule ball, blindfolding your eyes in mystery, alluding to a secret spot. though he suggests it's merely to show you something, what unfolds is a testament to his deep appreciation for your love of nature and a showcase of his genuine gentlemanly demeanour

a night at the museum - @pizzaapeteer

summary; where your boyfriend blaise takes you for your birthday to your favourite place

draco malfoy;

an unintended double date - @papercorgiworld

summary; enzo doesn’t want you ruining his date so he calls in back up to keep you busy, which leads to an interesting date

remus lupin;

remus can tell you have a crush on him - @luveline

remus and you exist in your own little bubble - @luveline

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apparentlytheproblem · 1 year

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Theodore nott x Gryffindor fem! Reader fluff and soft smut she’s reading in his lap while he’s leaning against the bedpost reading with her holding the book and Turing the pages while she keeps reading it and it’s super smutty (maybe the actors spin-off book abt nesta and cassian-) and she just traces his arm veins while they read (and if you decide to make it smutty pls make the reader LOVE LOVE LOVE his hands, abs, arm viens-)

a l l u r i n g

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- theodore nott

a/n: hullo, I have my midterm math exam on Monday so its all rushed and i barely have time to post but this has me screaming and crying all at once. i could not find any hardcore smut from a court of silver flames , I couldn't find any hardcore smut from court of silver flames, I'm so sorry abt that. the scene you're reading out loud is written by none other than @lustingbones, featuring Dick Grayson. I've written her fanfic in cursive so as to not get confused. she has single handedly created an obsession for nightwing in me. here's the link to the inspiration :) requests are forever open, luv, teddy

requested- yes

warnings- mf this is an advanced apology, i've never written smut. i've never even held someone's hand romantically, hell, i can't even keep eye contact, soft smut, fluffy, vulgar language, they both are minors, no protection is mentioned, it might make you uncomfortable, the reading of smut, the writing of smut

The sleeves of your black satin shirt had already fallen down your arms, the shirt itself was only being held up by two thin chains over your shoulder. it was basically as good as transparent, there wasn't a thing you couldn't see through it.

Theodore had leaned himself on his bedpost, his shirt was long gone. You were reading to him, your legs were on either side of his hips, your ass was cupped by his hand as he found utter joy in this situation. Your breasts were Infront of his face as he struggled not to get hard under you so quickly. Theo was never this grateful for being taller than you, he could just look down at you and get a perfect view. he wanted nothing more than to hold them in his hands and squeeze it or just rip the shirt off at this point.

"He moaned softly at the squelch of your cunt swallowing him, a creamy white ring surrounding the base of his cock every moment he pulled out."

your flingers grazed the hoops of his trousers, hooking them absentmindedly. sometimes they paused and was placed next to his hips.

“D-Dick, p-please baby-” a hitch in your voice. you could feel your pussy, but more than that, you could feel a lump in his pants.

"its so attractive when you say baby like that, but when i fuck you, its gonna be theo" he mumbled by leaning closer to your ear.

all you could do is nod as he signaled for you to continue.

“Gotta breed you baby.. Show all these fuckers that you’re mine and get you pregnant. You’d like that huh? All full with my baby, my cum deep inside this needy lil’ pussy, hm? You want that princess?” You felt him smirk against your skin as he never faltered, his cock reaching so deep inside you–fuck this man would be the end of you."

Theo's eyes were fixated on you. the way your voice was wavering, the way you squeezed your thighs, how a blush crept to your face. he loved how you got so shy with the pregnancy kink. it made him wonder if she had one herself.

"you're into that? why read about it when i can give you the full experience in 6D?"

you tried to waver him off, this was the last thing you needed in this situation

" "All I do is treat you so fuckin’ well, don’t I?” Dick mumbled as his fingers started to toy with your clit, his middle finger rubbing the sensitive nub in circles as he continued his brutal pace on your weeping cunt. “F-fuck..” he whined as he pulled away for a moment to look down at where the two of you were connected, his cum from earlier rounds already starting to pool onto the bedsheets and trailing down your thighs. “S’good to me, ya know that? Such a good girl..” Fuck it was starting to become too much for him, but it felt so fucking good.."

you could feel your own pussy throbbing. If you were being honest to yourself, you were thinking about you and Theodore. your head keeps going to the idea of him saying this to you, doing this to you and feeling him so hard just got you more turned on.

“G-Gonna come, Dee–fuck!” you whimpered as you fell back into the sheets with your face squished against the pillows, gripping the blanket into your hands tightly."

your palm grazed his veiny arms, has he been working out? they've gotten so big..

“F-fuckin’ come baby, come all over this cock..” He coos through clenched teeth, his nails lightly digging into your plush skin as his thrusts sped up."

from palms to fingernails, they slowly trail up his forearm and roamed around his chest.

"Whiney breaths leave your throat as your climax starts building, before the coil in your tummy finally snaps, your juices gushing around him as he let out a whine and threw his head back."

you find yourself adjusting to place your pussy right above his cock. you could see his face trying to not to show any signs of satisfaction. that was all you needed.

“C-Come inside me, Dick–please!” you squeal with your face squished into the pillow to muffle your needy whines as his cock twitched inside you."

all he could concentrate about is trying not to break character. his eyes fixated on the elegant curve of your back beneath the clear fabric. her rough voice ran through his head in circles. he lifted an arm from his side, letting it play with the bottom buttons, almost only leaving one left. The only thing covering you up.

“I know baby, I know–fuckk!” he groaned as you felt him release inside you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls a creamy white, giving a few shallow thrusts before stilling inside you, pants and heavy breathing leaving both of your lips as you sat in silence."

you ran your arms down his abs, he loved your not so secret fixation you had for them. but you loved it more.

"You whine as you try to crawl away from his needy hands before he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back to flip you onto your back, a few pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead as he looks down at you with a grin painting his plush lips. Gosh it’s like he was trying to kill you."

“Said ya’ wanted to help me..” he cooed as he leant down with his lips ghosting over yours. "

“So, help me..”

Theodore was done. He gently picked the book from your hand and placed it on his nightstand. both his hands went under your thighs as to place you on the bed so he could tower over you, his chain dangling Infront of your eyes.

"hi handsome" you said peering up to him. you pulled his arm to examine it. his veins looked so hot, just absolutley lovley to have around you.

"hey beautiful"

you take his hand, a quiet smile made way too your face as you rest it on your breasts

Theodore felt your hands as it unzipped his trousers leaving him in boxers. your hand slid up and down his dick in slow strokes, just to drive him mad.

he takes her into my arms still kneeling, hitching your leg around his torso before pulling you as close as possible. The kisses you shared were soft, unbothered needy but never rushed.

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desideriumwriter · 1 year

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Blindsided | G.W.

Summary: As the Gryffindor Quidditch team celebrates their win on the field, Malfoy begins to openly throw insults in front of George and Fred towards them, their parents, Harry, and you. George isn’t able to ignore and shrug off his mockery. It only ends in a shocking altercation between the Redheaded Gryffindor and sneering Slytherin.

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Category: hurt/comfort, fluff

WC: 2.9k

CWs: physical fighting, depictions of violence/fighting, blood, yelling, injuries

A/N: this fic is based off that one part in OOTP (chapter eleven), i’m still so upset they didn’t include it in the movie </3

The Gryffindor section of the stadium roared with applause and hollered once Harry caught the Golden Snitch, getting the team 30 points ahead of Slytherin, causing Gryffindor to win and finally end the game.

Harry flew to the middle of the stadium, flying high up, smiling as he held up the snitch in his hand with two fingers wrapped tightly around it, presenting it to the entire stadium. He flew down and landed carefully on the field, Fred and George went down after him, then the rest of the Gryffindor team did as well.

Fred and George abandoned their brooms and ran over to Harry, Fred was giving him aggressive pats on the back while George ruffled his hair as they praised him. You grinned at their brotherly behavior towards Harry. The proud athletes began to grin and cheer loudly while punching their fists in the air in victory, hugging each other tightly, giving each other high-fives and handshakes all in celebration.

But of course, Draco landed by, ready to ruin this happy moment, and started to sneer about something towards the Gryffindor team, it seemed that Harry was the only one to notice, he turned around to look at Draco, then turned back towards his team when he stopped talking, he was trying his best to ignore him and not bark back at the Slytherin boy.

You smiled and applauded along with everyone else, you decided to leave your spot and excitedly walk down the stairs to go and congratulate Harry and the rest of the team on the field, also because you mostly wanted to see George. You were too impatient and too excited to wait an hour or so because George had to clean up.

You completely forgot that Draco was spitting something at the other team and constantly pointing at Harry, George, and Fred.

While Fred was squeezing Harry's shoulder and George was in the midst of a handshake with Harry, you watched the twins' heads snap up at Draco and their bodies stiffen, the big grins they previously had on their faces disappeared immediately. Yours did as well.

At this point you were running onto the field because you knew something was off, something was about to happen, and whatever it was going to be, it definitely won't be good.

You got there in time to hear most of what Draco was mocking about.

"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy called out towards them, “But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly and we wanted to sing about his mother, but we couldn't fit in useless loser either for his father!” He laughed, you looked at George, a scowl covered his face which was red with anger, there was practically steam coming out his ears. You grabbed onto his hand, squeezing it, to try and get his attention.

George looked down at you, his face softened slightly at the sight of you, but it was still covered with rage, you shook your head slowly at him, mouthing ‘no’, as an attempt to get him to calm down, knowing he was seconds away from doing something stupid, he sighed and looked back at Malfoy.

“Oh! I see your little girlfriend has come to your defense, hasn’t she Georgie?” Malfoy mocked, George’s fists balled up, hands shaking, his fingers were squeezed tightly around yours to the point where it was uncomfortable, yet you still kept your hand in his.

"You like the Weasley's, don't you, Harry? Especially you too, Y/L/N. You spend the holidays there and everything, I see you take any advantage you could get to be around George. You definitely have a liking for him, huh?” It seemed Malfoy had forgotten about Harry at this point, his attention drifted from Harry to you, you were now his target.

“In my opinion, I can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been raised in a dirty-blooded household even the Weasley's hovel smells okay." Malfoy smirked.

You turned around to figure out where Fred went, only to see a panicked Angelina trying to calm down him as well.

"Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just a sore loser.” Angelina stood in front of him, placing her hands flat gently on his chest. Alicia and Katie eventually joined in on trying to hold him back and calm him down too.

Harry stood on the other side of George, grabbing his upper arm, muttering to George that Malfoy was just trying to rile him up, attempting to get him to walk away as he looked around for Hooch, who was still lecturing Crabbe about his illegal Bludger attack. George didn’t budge.

"Or perhaps," Malfoy continued, leering as he slowly walked towards you, getting more in your face with every step, "it makes you think about your dirty muggle life, Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it, doesn’t it, you filthy mudblood?" He let out a small laugh and then walked away. Those last few words were all it took for George to snap. Fred and Harry as well. However, Fred was stuck, still being held back by the others.

It only was a few seconds before you felt George's hand slip from your grip, you saw him and Harry sprint towards Malfoy.

All of it, everything happened so quickly.

Harry shoved Malfoy back around, he held back his fist that was still holding the Snitch, then sunk his fist into Malfoys stomach, he nearly fell over from the force of the hit as he groaned and held his stomach in pain. But, they weren’t done there. Malfoy attempted to stand up straight and throw his fist at Harry, only to be headbutted and slammed on the ground by George.

Once they were both on the ground, Harry stood on one of his arms while George hovered over him, delivering strong blows to Malfoys face and bellowing out in rage. Repeatedly punching him left and right, letting out all his fury into Malfoy's face.

You gasped and covered your mouth with two hands in shock, you were frozen. You didn’t know what to do or how to stop him, if you could even be able to stop him. It was scary, George was scary. This was a whole new side of him you’ve never seen before.

“Fuck you, Malfoy! Don’t you ever talk about my family! Don’t you ever fucking call Y/N that! Stupid piece of shit!” George screamed at him as he continued to beat him. You couldn’t hear everything he said due to his screaming eventually blending in with the crowds, several voices pleading for him to stop, some were encouraging the altercation.

“Harry! Get him off!” “Stay back, Fred!” “I’ve been waiting for this to happen!” “Get a picture of this Colin!” “Why’s nobody helping him?” “Do something!” “Fight! Fight! Fight!” “Why isn’t she doing anything?” “He’s gonna kill him!” “Someone get Madam Hooch!”

Voices screamed and overlapped from all around the stadium.

Kids were leaning over the wooden rails, standing on their seats, some were even using the binoculars they brought to get a closer look at the altercation.

George only paused for a second to warn Malfoy. He grabbed him by the collar, partially lifting him up from the grass.

“If you ever, ever say anything like that about my family or my friends again. I will leave you with more than a broken nose. Do you understand?” George had the look of a madman covering his face, Malfoy only nodded and whined. Yet, George let go and let him fall back on the ground, and went back to delivering hits.

There was so much noise. The crowd screaming, Fred screaming to be let go of, the girls trying to quieten him down, the repeated sound of bone hitting bone, George continuing to swear, Malfoy crying out in pain, the impact of the punches.

A whistle blew, but George didn’t care, he ignored the strong, high pitched sound, his hearing was only focused on the sound of the impact from his fists swinging into Malfoy's face instead.

“Impedimenta!” A woman's voice hollered. George, along with Harry, was knocked over backward, the force of the spell flinging them away from Malfoy, who was curled up on the grass, clutching his stomach, groaning and whimpering with blood from his nose covering the bottom center half of his face and staining his Quidditch uniform.

George hit the ground right next to you, only sporting a small nosebleed with a swollen and split open lip, he attempted to leap back up on his feet, but you grabbed onto him to keep him down, you noticed that Fred was still being restrained by the others, eventually giving up on trying to launch at Malfoy, knowing the fight was over and there was no chance he’d be able to get to him without getting launched back too.

"What on Earth do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch as she walked closer, stopping once she was standing next to Malfoy.

"I have never seen behavior like this! Both of you, back up to the castle and straight to your Head of House's office! You too Frederick Weasley! Go! Now!” Hooch pointed and drifted her finger between each of the three boys. Harry began to storm out, George getting up exhaustedly, still taking heavy breaths while walking off. He didn’t say a word as he passed by you, only making eye contact for a second.

You weren’t able to read what the exact look on his face was, it was a mixture of anger, sadness, and maybe even some disappointment.

“The rest of you, return to your common rooms right this moment!” The crowd filled with groans and whispers as they began to exit out the stadium.

You sat on the sofa in the common room, the book you were trying to read sitting open and abandoned next to you. You had one leg perched up, your chin sat on your knee, as you watched the flames dance in the fireplace. Fred, George, and Harry stormed in the room, they were all stripped from their Quidditch uniforms and had large scowls on their faces.

You weren’t even able to get a word out before they had all gone up to their dorm.

You sighed to yourself, laying down on the sofa, watching and listening to the fire crackle and glow. You couldn’t stop thinking of what happened earlier, it was taking over your mind.

You’ve never seen George so serious, so angry, so full of rage.

You felt guilty, maybe even a little gross, because a part of you liked watching it go down. Seeing that side of George was scary, but you liked it.

Of course you liked seeing Draco get what he finally deserves. But, you liked seeing George during it. You liked how concentrated he was, how he screamed and swore at him, you liked seeing his strength being put to use for something other than Quidditch, you liked how you got to see him let his anger out, you liked how he defended the people he cared about.

The weight of exhaustion had finally hit you, the events of today had worn you out completely. You soon fell asleep on the sofa after accepting the fact that you enjoyed watching George during the altercation, that you enjoyed it maybe a bit too much.

Your eyes fluttered and slowly rose open, you inhaled while taking a look at your surroundings, you couldn’t have been asleep for too long, as it was still night, the common room was quiet, but one thing had changed. George was sitting on one of the chairs across from you.

“Hi.” He gave you a weak and forced smile, the cut on his lip was scabbed up now.

“Hey. Um, how are you doing?” You propped yourself up on your elbow.

“Um….” His leg repeatedly bounced up and down quickly, he bit his cheek, his eyes wandered around the room, he was planning on what he was about to say next.

He took a large breath in through his nose.

“Umbridge permanently banned us from the Quidditch team.” He ignored answering your question, going straight to the bad news. Maybe his response could be his answer though, it’s obvious with an aftermath like that, he wasn’t doing good.

“What?” You exclaimed, launching yourself up and completely out of your seat.

“We’re banned from the team, we’re banned from the game. We can’t play. At all.” George shook his head with a frown on his face.

“Are you serious? But- What about Malfoy?” You paced around, it was weird talking to him in such a serious and gloomy manner.

“Nothing happened to him. Except…you know?” George gave an awkwardly tight lipped smile as he brought his bruised hands up, flipping each side to you.

“Yeah, but…shit.” You sighed, flopping back on the sofa, disappointed about the outcome of what happened to all of them. George only let out a hum of agreement.

“Fred’s taking it worse than I am. I think he’s still upset he didn’t get to join in on the beating.” He attempted to joke, you let out a small laugh, then you bit your cheek and looked at his hands, his knuckles were covered in shades of red and purple, small scabs on the tip of some. George caught on and noticed your staring.

“Oh Godric, I didn’t mean to scare you. You’re not scared of me, right? Please don’t tell me you are.” His voice filled with panic, he must’ve thought you were scared he was going to be seen as an impulsive and violent person by you.

“I’m not scared, I’m…worried. I guess I'm just still thinking about everything.” You gave a forced smile as you reassured him.

“Oh, okay.” He breathed out as he looked down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Are your hands okay? Are they broken? Did you see Madam Pompfrey for it?”

“I didn’t want to bother her this late, she’s already taking care of Malfoy so. But, yeah they’re fine. They should be.” He shrugged.

“Alright. Well, are you okay?” You tried your best to get a look at his face.

“I think I should be the one asking you that.” He let out a weak laugh, you did the same. You soon noticed that you hadn’t thought one bit about what Malfoy said when he was ridiculing you. The intensity of the fight overtook your thoughts.

After that, it was silent. Neither of you knew what to say next, you were both going over all the things Draco had said to you before George had him on the ground in your heads.

“You didn’t deserve that, for him to say all those things about you.” He moved from his spot in the chair to next to you on the sofa, crouched over, his elbows on his knees with his fists stuck together clumsily.

“Your family didn’t deserve to be talked about like that either.” You added in, trying to push the focus on them and not you.

“Of course, I should’ve scrapped him once he mentioned my mum. At least she wasn’t there to hear him say all that rubbish.” He scoffed, “It’s not fair that you were however…I just don’t want you to be his next target because of me.” He whispered the last part, your heart broke at it. He thought those insults towards you were his fault?

You opened your mouth, trying to think of something to say in response. You couldn’t think of anything. A million thoughts were going through your head yet you were still speechless.

“‘Cause, I care for you. You know? I really do.” He added, his voice filled with sweetness and gloom.

“I do too, George. You mean a lot to me.” You unclenched his fists from each other, taking one of his hands and intertwining your fingers with his.

“Really? I do?” He sat up and looked at you, there was genuine surprise on his face.

“Of course, you absolutely do.” You smiled with your eyebrows raised. Was he really questioning how much he meant to you? Does he not know how much you care for him?

There was another silence, but this time it wasn’t sad or awkward or embarrassing or guilt ridden, it was something else. A much stronger feeling. A tension. A positive tension.

You only looked at each other, admiring each other's features, you took in every freckle scattered around his face, his dark umber colored eyes, his smooth skin, his long red eyelashes, his soft lips.

Then something inside you snapped, but not like how George snapped earlier on the field. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his, you felt him push into the kiss. His hands gently cupping around your face. It felt as if both of your lips were magnets, pulling into each other.

You pulled away to catch your breath. George stared at you, face covered in shock and passion. You weren’t able to form a sentence, he took all the words out of your mouth once he connected his to yours.

“I was hoping you would do that.” Was all he said as he grinned and you giggled, blushing and attempting to turn your head away only for it to be pulled back by George's hands holding your face and pulling you back in for more.

tell me what you thought! <3

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fic #weasley twins #weasley twins fic #george weasley smut #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst #hogwarts #wizarding world #the order of the phoenix #harry potter and the order of the phoenix #ootp

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suugarbabe · 1 year

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Masterlist

Works marked with a * are 18+, works marked with a * are 18+ adjacent. If you see a work marked with an asterisk (*) and choose to click on it, you are working under the assumption that you are over the age of 18 and consenting to the content that you are about to read. Please be safe and aware of your online consumptions.

GENERAL RULES AND RULES FOR REQUESTS

requests are currently [ ] open [ X ] closed

I am only doing taglists for Saving Grace and Forget Me Not. I do not do general tags for each character.

Mattheo Riddle*

Theodore Nott*

Draco Malfoy*

Lorenzo Berkshire*

Blaise Zabini*

Fred Weasley*

George Weasley

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belqva · 13 days

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₊˚⊹౨ TAKE ME TO CHURCH [T.M.R.] ৎ ₊˚⊹

warnings: domestic violence, mentions of murder (it’s tom riddle are we even surprised?)

summary: At the hour of the owl, driven by anger and hurt, you left your dorm and wandered towards the Black Lake. There you encounter Tom Riddle. Your enigmatic conversation with your academic rival took an unexpected turn, leaving you with more questions than answers as you headed back to the castle.

pairing: tom riddle x ravenclaw fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is a draft that I didn’t plan on posting but I’m so busy atm I don’t have time to write anything else 🥲 again english is not my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes! as always my inbox is open and I’m happy to hear any criticism or requests as long as you are polite 🤍 not incredibly proud of this but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless <333

It was the hour of the owl when you left your dorm room. Strictly forbidden, yes, but as a prefect—even if off-duty that evening—you were willing to risk detention. Quite unusual for an obedient Ravenclaw like yourself, but here you were, sneaking out like a thief in the night.

“Oh, bloody hell,” you muttered, consumed by anger that clouded your thoughts. Hatred and adrenaline coursed through your veins. The Ravenclaw common room was empty; everyone else was already in bed, even those who usually stayed up late. No one would see or question your departure. It was nearly three in the morning, dark and silent.

You made your way across the empty common room and down the stairs of Ravenclaw Tower, not entirely sure where you were going, but driven by a need to escape everything. The ancient Hogwarts castle was cold and empty, its walls whispering secrets. Some might find the silence unsettling, but you found it oddly comforting. The cool evening breeze was soothing against your warm skin, though you would likely regret leaving your sweater behind later. Dressed in your usual uniform—a skirt, a white button-up, and the silver-blue tie— you moved carefully through the deserted halls, avoiding even the faintest creak.

The castle felt unimaginably vacant. Your anger had begun to ebb, replaced by a gradual calmness. The walk and fresh air had helped. As you meandered through the halls, you decided to venture outside the castle. It wasn’t entirely safe, but you had your wand and weren't afraid of the dark anymore. The stars shone brightly above, and your worries seemed to drift away.

Heading towards the Black Lake to clear your mind, you noticed a figure on the shore. Your heart raced with fear. Quickly gripping your wand, you crept closer, only to recognize the familiar figure of Tom Riddle. His jet-black hair, piercing dark eyes, and imposing stature could not be mistaken. The sight of him was both intimidating and oddly magnetic.

“Riddle,” you called, your voice cutting through the quiet. As he turned, his wand aimed at the ready, you saw his defensive stance relax.

“Y/L/N,” Tom said, his tone sharp as ever. “It is rather uncouth to approach someone unannounced.”

You had never liked him, and the feeling was mutual. What began as a snarky rivalry in your first year had escalated into a fierce competition. Each of you tried to outdo the other, pushing boundaries and limits, reveling in victories and defeats. Despite your mutual animosity, there was an undeniable, if twisted, connection between you. Tom was not like other boys; he was cold, calculating, and ruthless. Yet, he maintained a facade of the humble, ambitious scholar. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and though you would never admit it, you found his intensity compelling.

“Well, that certainly wasn’t my intention, Riddle. My apologies,” you replied sarcastically.

As you approached, you noticed Tom’s irritated expression and the cigarette he had dropped. He took out another one, lit it with his wand, and took a drag before addressing you.

“I should be asking you the same thing, Y/L/N,” he said, ignoring your remark. “It’s never easy with you, is it?”

“You’re the one to talk,” you retorted. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

Tom’s unimpressed glance betrayed his indifference. “Well, I’m delighted to catch you off guard.”

The sight of him indulging in such a muggle habit was unexpected. Given his staunch pureblood beliefs, it was surprising. But you supposed it made sense, considering his upbringing in a muggle orphanage. Where he got the cigarettes from was another mystery.

His reaction to your mention of muggles was intense. “I have nothing to do with those filthy creatures. The mere idea is offensive. Muggles are obsessed with pleasure, indulgence, and waste. They are nothing but animals in disguise.”

Tom’s passionate tirade was one of his defining traits. His ability to articulate his disdain with such fervor was both disturbing and strangely admirable. You had learned to disregard his over-the-top responses, focusing instead on his more genuine moments.

“Merlin, Riddle, calm down. It was just a question,” you said, trying to remain unfazed.

“And I am just answering you,” he countered, his demeanor quickly reverting to his usual composed facade. He took another drag of his cigarette, and a heavy silence settled between you.

After a moment, he broke the quiet. “So what is an obedient Ravenclaw like yourself doing out at this hour? I thought breaking the rules wasn’t your style.” His smirk was maddening.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, the earlier anger fading, replaced by an uncomfortable shudder of vulnerability. Tom noticed the change in your demeanor and his expression grew serious. His perceptiveness was unnerving, a reminder of why you found it hard to trust him fully.

“Well, it’s stupid really. Foolish,” you admitted, defeated.

Tom raised an eyebrow, puffing smoke as you locked eyes. A silent understanding passed between you, a mutual recognition of the truth. You began to speak, revealing the turmoil behind your nighttime escapade.

You sat on the edge of your bed, struggling to focus on your assignments late into the evening.

The room was quiet except for the sound of your quill scratching parchment and the occasional rustle of pages. All your dormmates were out at a Gryffindor party celebrating their victory over Slytherin in the Quidditch match. You weren't worried about their early return; it was Friday, and with no classes the next day, they were likely to be out until afternoon, lost in firewhisky or other indulgences. They'd tried to drag you along, but you'd claimed a severe headache and a need for rest. None of them believed you, dismissing your excuses with rolled eyes and playful jabs.

As they left, one of them teased,

"Have fun trying to turn rubbish into a raccoon dog," and they all laughed.

You rolled your eyes, knowing their words were harmless. You were close friends who respected each other deeply; this was just part of your dynamic.

Just as you were settling into the quiet, a sudden interruption shattered the peace. Someone opened your dorm room door, and annoyance flared at the disruptive noise. "Jane, is that you? Because I swear on my mother's-" you began scolding as you turned, but your words faltered when you saw the dark mop of slicked-back hair. It was your boyfriend, Wiglaf Siggurdson.

"Sorry to disappoint," he chuckled, closing the door behind him with a soft click. You were relieved it wasn't one of the girls, but his presence did little to uplift your mood. You liked Wiglaf; he was smart, confident, and everything a girl could wish for. Yet, you often questioned if you truly loved him, if you loved him enough to be with him. He was the one who had asked you to be his girlfriend, and being the polite person you were, you had accepted. He came from a wealthy family, had impeccable manners, played Quidditch, and was almost perfect in every way. But you appreciated him more as a friend and couldn't bring yourself to admit it. You tried hard to convince yourself that he was the one, but your heart wouldn't comply. He was kind, brought you flowers, carried your books, walked you to classes, and treated you like the most special girl on earth. Yet, his presence stirred a surge of irritation.

"I was studying, you know, before you decided to interrupt me unannounced," you said stiffly, turning back to your work. Wiglaf stood in the middle of the room, unsure of how to proceed.

"So, no greeting? No 'Hello, my dear boyfriend who decided to ditch a party to come and see me'?" he remarked sarcastically. "And it's not like you're not always studying.

Nothing new really," he muttered under his breath. The tension in the room was palpable.

"Well, I didn't ask you to come see me," you said matter-of-factly without turning around. His frustration was evident as he moved closer to you.

"And not all of us have a rich father to secure a job at the Ministry as soon as we graduate, you know," you said, tone sharp. He sat beside you and sighed heavily. Dressed in a blue sweater and casual dress pants, he looked dejected.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," he said softly. You still refused to look at him. "Sure," you mumbled, uninterested.

"And anyway, if you marry me, you won't have to worry about things like that," he added, beaming with self-satisfaction. You froze, trying to process his words. "Excuse me?" you said, clearly offended. It wasn't unusual for women not to work after graduation, but you had made it clear that you intended to. His casual joke about it now was hurtful. You had hoped he understood you better. Even if you did marry him, you wanted to work and maintain your

independence. You didn't want to rely on anyone, especially not someone you weren't sure you truly loved.

"What's up with you?" Wiglaf groaned. "You're always so wound up and offended by everything I say.

You're always busy studying, and it's always some excuse for why you can't go or can't do this or that. You never actually want to spend time with me." His voice rose with anger. "So far, I'm the only one putting any effort into this relationship It's supposed to be a two person job.”

You frowned and buried your face in your hands. "Wiglaf, I'm not in the mood for this right now. I want to study and go to sleep. Can we please save this lecture for another time?" you said wearily.

"No!" he thundered unexpectedly.

"You don't get to do this. You don't get to treat me like some dog on a leash," he hissed. You sighed, exasperated. "Oh, come on, stop acting childish, Wiglaf," you said, rolling your eyes as you began packing up your papers. You had no intention of continuing this argument; all you wanted was to go to bed.

"I come here, ditching all my mates to spend time with my girlfriend, who doesn't even bother to greet me, and now I'm the one acting childish?" He stood up, his frustration reaching a crescendo. "Oh, please," you muttered, standing up as well. As you tried to gather your papers, they slipped from your hands as Wiglaf gripped your wrists. The sudden contact shocked you, and your eyes widened in surprise.

"I think you need to be taught a lesson," he said with a dangerous glint in his eyes. You could see the lust taking over his gaze. "Wiglaf, let go of me. I'm not in the mood right now," you said, your patience fraying.

But he was too enraged to listen. He pulled you closer, his grip painful.

"Wiglaf, let go! You're hurting me!" you protested, struggling against his hold. Instead of relenting, he pressed himself against you and forcefully kissed you, gripping your face and preventing you from breaking free. In a desperate attempt to escape, you kicked him in the shin. The contact caused him to release you, and he hunched over in pain. You stood there, stunned by your own actions while he grunted, recovering from the kick.

The room was silent except for his pained breathing.

When he regained his composure, his eyes burned with rage. "Wiglaf, I-" you started, but before you could finish, he slapped you across the face.

The force of the blow left you reeling, and you felt the sting and warmth of blood on your lips. Wiglaf stood there, stunned, as if he couldn't fully grasp what he had just done.

Your fight-or-flight response kicked in, and you pushed past him, fleeing the room. He didn't try to follow you.

After a few moments, he collapsed on the floor, staring at the floorboards as he grappled with the gravity of his actions.

As you ran through Ravenclaw Tower, a whirlwind of emotions swept through you: shock, shame, disgust, guilt, sadness, and finally, red-hot seething anger. The only thought that brought you any comfort was the imagined cold, lifeless body of Wiglaf.

How could he do this after everything you had shared? It was unfathomable.

And that's how you found yourself sitting beside Tom Riddle on the shore of the Black Lake.

...and then I just left," you finished quietly. A heavy silence followed your explanation, and Tom's features darkened. You chuckled at the irony of it all. "Well, I suppose that's what l get for thinking that I-"

You didn't get to finish your sentence as Tom interrupted you. "I'm going to kill him." He stated plainly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You flinched at his violent intentions.

"What?" You quaked hoarsely. He couldn't be serious... could he?

"You heard me." Tom's eyes were sharp as he took a few steps closer. But you never knew Tom Riddle to be the type to joke about things like that.

"He dared lay a hand on what's mine, and now he's going to pay for it." His tone was cold.

What's his? By day, you were nothing but an academic rival to Tom Riddle, but by night, you were suddenly his treasured possession? What a twisted mind indeed. You sighed at his words, rubbing your temples, trying to make sense of everything. "Tom, you can't just-"

"Yes, I can and I will. Because tell me, do you not think about me when he's inside of you, when you touch yourself, when you wake up in the morning? You don't love him, Y/N. We both know it. And don't try to deny it. I see right through you." His voice was dark. "And don't tell me what I can and can't do. That's not for you to decide."You were stunned, your mind blank.

Tom Riddle was a confusing enigma.

One moment he hated you, the next he was willing to kill for you. For him, it was all the same. Wiglaf would just be another addition to his growing collection of Horcruxes. It was a win-win for him: a Horcrux, the removal of an annoyance, and you-all in one plan. Three birds, one stone.

Tom's body was now facing yours, and his cold hands brushed a stray hair from your forehead. "Don't waste your mind on people like him. I don't even know why you're with that dimwit..." he muttered quietly. His fingers traced the curve of your lip and the bloody spot Wiglaf's assault had left. As he touched you, the fire in your body reignited, and the magic you only felt around him came to life.

You never felt this way around Wiglaf.

With Tom, it was like you were alive for the first time. You burned for him.

You loved him. He knew it, and you knew it. Yet both of you understood it could never work. Your ambitions were far too... different.

You let your head rest on his palm, closing your eyes for a moment, letting all your worries fade away. Dreaming about a world in which Tom was capable of loving you. Or perhaps a world in which you were able to go against your moral compass and accept his twisted mind. You kissed his palm gently and then pulled away.

"I ought to get back to the castle before someone catches us. We'll both be in trouble." You cleared your throat and spoke.

Tom simply hummed in response.

Reluctantly, you moved away and started for the castle. Before you got too far, you turned to speak softly so he could hear you. "Good night, Tom."

His gaze was on you, but he didn't reply. You continued your way back to the castle, his eyes following your retreating form. When you were far enough away that Tom was sure you couldn't hear him, he spoke softly,

"Good night, my love."

The next morning, you didn't see Wiglaf at his usual spot at the breakfast table. You approached one of his mates to inquire about his whereabouts, wondering if he was hungover or something. But as you spoke to him, a look of concern crossed his face, and he regretfully explained that Wiglaf had ended up in the hospital wing the night before. No one knew how or why.

You felt a pair of eyes on you and turned to the Slytherin table. There they were: two onyx eyes staring back at you, deep into your soul, letting you know that once again, he had emerged victorious.

SHARING THIS, ANY OF MY OTHER WORKS OR A TRANSLATION OF THEM WITHOUT CONSENT ON THIS OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN !!!

THE PLOT OF HARRY POTTER OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS DO NOT BELONG TO ME THIS IS JUST A WORK OF FANFICTION !!!

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averagewriter-inthedark · 8 months

Text

When Three Became Two 🪽| Platonic!Weasley Twins Imagine

Set during the Battle of Hogwarts

Harry Potter masterlist

Characters & Pairings: George & Fred Weasley x Sister!Weasley Triplet (platonic), the Golden Trio x weasley!sister (platonic)

Content Warnings: Character Death, sadness, angst, mentions of blood and major injury, profanity | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 7k

Premise: The dynamic redheaded duo Fred & George were never particularly close with their older triplet sister Y/N, especially after she was sorted into Slytherin during their first year at Hogwarts. It is not till the Battle of Hogwarts do the twins realize just how important family is, but by then it was too late to make amends.

(Y/E/C)- Your eye color

Note: I’m going to put red hair because you know Weasley but if you want to envision your own hair color that is totally fine too. Also, just so y'all know....I started this piece back in 2018 and recently picked it back up. So....the last 400 words are pretty much the most recent material I added + i did A LOT of editing. So I apologize if the beginning is trash because like I said, 6k of the nearly 7k words are from 6 years ago. I've been hyperfixating on the Weasley twins again which is why I was like 'maybe I should finish that imagine I started...'

Italics are flashbacks

------------------

Y/n Weasley felt the sweat and blood drip off her forehead as she ran through the halls of the school she had spent several years in which became a second home to her. She was out of breath, dodging and reflecting spells that were casted her way from the surrounding death eaters. Screams and shouts echoed from every corner, flashes of red and green light nearly blinding her (Y/E/C) eyes while her flaming red hair swished when she ran. Her breath was wavering, she could see several of her fellow Order members dueling around her. Passing the Great Hall, her pace nearly faltering when her eyes locked on the doors, the memory of walking through the first time when she was just a nervous little eleven year old began to play in the redheads mind….

Y/n sighed, stepping off the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Her twin brothers had already raced to the boats leaving the smaller, although older, of the three behind. Picking up her robes that were slightly dragging due to her small stature, Y/n followed her fellow classmates to the boating docks, casting a smile to Hagrid as she walked past him, who in return smiled back. She found a boat that already had two other first years seated, and quickly took the spot adjacent to a girl about her age.

“Hi,” the girl smiled to the redhead, “I’m Angelina Johnson. What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/n Weasley, it’s nice to meet you,” the two shook hands with smiles.

“What house are you hoping to be in?”

“Honestly,” Y/n sighed, “I’m not sure. My whole family has been in Gryffindor, including my two older brothers who are currently here. It would be nice to be sorted there so I have my family, but I’ve always felt different.”

“Are those other two ginger boys your brothers?” Angelina pointed to the boat where Fred and George were laughing loudly while talking with a dark-skinned boy. Y/n nodded after looking where Angelina was pointing, turning back with a grim expression.

“Yeah, that’s Fred and George. We’re triplets, I’m the oldest of the bunch yet I never seem to be included in anything.”

“Aw, that’s not right,” Angelina said with a frown. The two continued to talk the entire boat ride to the castle, learning about their backgrounds and finding out they had several similar interests. One could tell that the two instantly connected and were on the road to becoming best friends. The two girls got off the boat once it got to the docks, Y/n helping Angelina when she nearly tripped as she got out, to which the young girl was grateful for.

“Oh my gosh thank you!” Angelina exclaimed, “That would have been so embarrassing.” Y/n laughed slightly, fixing the girl’s robes.

“No problem, I wouldn't want you tripping on the first night and being made fun of before classes even started.” The two girls followed everyone to the entrance of the castle, beaming in awe of everything they passed. Climbing the steps that lead to the great hall seemed like forever, but soon they were faced with an older woman who wore a pointed hat on top of her head and green robes.

“Good evening,” she greeted, “I am Professor McGonagall. In a few moments, the doors behind me will open and you will enter the Great Hall where you will then be sorted into one of the four houses named after the four founding members of Hogwarts; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin--.” She continued to explain the four houses to the children before the doors opened. When they did, Professor McGonagall escorted the group into the Great Hall. Many looked at the ceiling, gasping at the candles floating in midair. Some caught the eyes of soon to be fellow classmates, the students sending smiles to the young ones.

The group halted in front of the steps leading to the podium. The members of the head table gazed down on the children, Headmaster Dumbledore giving them a warm smile to welcome them making many feel more at ease. Professor McGonagall stood beside a stool, on top of it was a brown pointed hat.

“When I call your name,” she said, capturing everyone's attention, “You will step up, take a seat on the stool and I will place the sorting hat on your head where you will be sorted into your houses.” Y/n felt her hands become clammy, nerves racking through here with each name being called getting closer to hers. When Angelina was called and sorted into Gryffindor, Y/n clapped for her with a smile, happy for her new friend. She immediately hoped she would also be sorted into the house to be with not only her older brothers, but also with Angelina.

“Weasley, Fred.” The ginger boy raced up the stairs, careful not to trip over his robes and took a seat on the stool with a grin. The hat was placed onto his head and it took only moments before the hat exclaimed, “GRYFFINDOR!!” Cheers erupted from the lion house, the older Weasley boys, Charlie and Percy, clapping loudly for their brother and greeting him with open arms when he ran to the table. George was called next, the boy also running to the stool and the Gryffindor house applauded with joy once more hearing the sorting hat call out the name again. Fred and George embraced in a big hug, happy they were going to be in the same house and sat next to each other beside their brothers.

The room went quiet and Professor McGonagall read out the name many had already guessed was next, “Weasley, Y/n.” The small eleven-year-old let out a shaky breath, ascending the steps before taking a seat on the stool. She flinched when the hat was placed on her head and heard a gasp emitted from it.

“Ahh another Weasley,” the hat began, “only you are much different than your many siblings huh? Loyal to your family, a trait you value, but Hufflepuff is not for you. There is no doubt you are brave like a Gryffindor, there will be a time your bravery will be put to the test, but there is a strong ambition that lies within you. You are a very determined young one, and will do anything to accomplish your goals.” Y/N felt her heart begin to beat faster as the hat continued talking, “So, there is only one house in which you will find what you are looking for and that is SLYTHERIN!!”

That day, while no one wanted to admit it, changed everything. The twins hardly ever talked to Y/N, even less than what they already had. Many of the Slytherins ignored her, not enjoying the fact that a member of the blood-traitor family was sorted into the notorious pure-blood house. Even though Y/N was of pure blood, it did not matter to them, she was still relatively shunned from her housemates. Professor Snape was displeased at first until she proved she had a talent for potion making, becoming more advanced than any student he had ever taught. It was then he treated the Weasley girl with some actual respect and even allowed her to practice in the classroom whenever she pleased as long as she promised to never let her brothers get their hands on any of the ingredients he stored in the room.

Charlie, Angelina, and Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff seemed to be the only people besides her parents and professors that looked beyond the fact she was in Slytherin. Others included her older brother Bill, her younger sister Ginny and eventually Hermione Granger. The bushy haired Gryffindor met the older Weasley in her first year at Hogwarts. After being told of the talented potion maker from Ron, Hermione sought to meet her. Y/N was shocked when the girl first introduced herself, but it was the start of a treasured friendship Y/N held dear to her.

“Hi!” a cheerful voice sounded, causing Y/N to look up from her textbook. Her eyes met the warm brown ones of a petite girl bushy haired girl sporting a Gryffindor tie and robes. The Slytherin girl gazed at her confused, looking around the library in case she was addressing someone else other than her. By the warm smile the first-year gave her, Y/N realized she was in fact talking to her.

“Uh hi?” she said with a questionable tone, brows furrowed. The girl stuck her hand out which made Y/N slightly flinch by how fast the movement was.

“I’m Hermione Granger,” she introduced. Y/N hesitantly extended her own hand, clasping it with the girl's small one and shook it lightly.

“Y/N Weasley.”

“I know,” Hermione smiled, “Ron told me about you. Well he did not tell me much except your name and that you were in Slytherin. He also mentioned you were really good with potions and Snape likes you.” Y/N could not help but slightly chuckle at the last sentence.

“I wouldn’t say Snape ‘likes’ me, but he certainly tolerates me more than my siblings. You’ve probably already seen that the twins are pranksters, they tend to cause him immense distress.” This made Hermione laugh and Y/N felt her lips curl up. She then noticed the girl holding several textbooks, one of which was a first-year potions book, “Is there anything I can help you with Hermione?”

“I just wanted to get to know you,” the girl said warmly, which made Y/N slightly shocked. “Ron and the twins did not speak much about you and when they did they made it seem like you were horrible just because you were sorted into Slytherin. I know that a house does not define who a person really is, so I wanted to talk to you myself and it appears you are not a mean or evil person that your house makes people think you are.” Y/N could not believe what she was hearing and she could not detect any hint of a lie in the girl's words.

“Wow,” She breathed, “Sorry, I’m just a little taken back. It’s been a while since I’ve really heard anyone say that. Only my older siblings, minus Percy, my parents, my sister, and a few people who I happen to be friends with think the same way you do. Ron and the twins just really ignore me.”

“But aren’t you and the twins actually triplets?” The question caused Y/N to frown and look down at her book.

“Yeah,” she muttered softly, “We are. Many people forget that we are because we never act like it, but it’s okay, I’m used to the two leaving me out. It happened before we were sorted into our houses so it does not bother me much anymore. I’ve learned to live with it.” Hermione frowned at that, feeling sad for the older Weasley.

“That’s not right. You guys are siblings, family. They should not treat you like that.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. One day they will realize how they act wrong, until then I can only be patient.” Hermione nodded though she still possessed a frown and Y/N pushed away the many books laid on the table, gesturing for the girl to take a seat. “Here, sit down. You said you want to get to know me, so let's just talk while we do our homework and you can see how I really am compared to what Ron tells you. I’ll even help you with potions if you need.” Hermione beamed, placing her books on the table and sitting down across from the redhead. The two talked for hours until it was time for curfew, getting to know one another and Y/N offering help when Hermione had a question on a certain subject and Y/N felt it was the start of a blossoming friendship.

The years continued, and Y/N only had few friends, hardly ever seeing her siblings due to them all being sorted into Gryffindor leaving her alone. Her friendship with Hermione grew and she even looked at the girl as a sister, the Gryffindor looking at her the same way. Y/N and Angelina remained close even after being sorted in different houses. Despite having few friends, she could not wait to graduate and finally go off on her own, already planning to continue her work in potions and become a potioneer after spending countless summers devoted to perfecting different elixirs. Several events happened during her time at Hogwarts, including her sister Ginny unlocking the Chamber of Secrets and the tragedy of the TriWizard Tournament.

When the Order of the Phoenix was back in business to stop Voldemort following the death of her dear friend Cedric, Y/n immediately joined despite objections from her parents. The death of her friend caused immense grief. She became depressed in the following months, hardly sleeping due to nightmares of his corpse and she rarely ate, resulting in her facial features becoming more hollow. It was not until she joined the Order that she was back to her normal self and that was because of her determination to bring justice to Cedric’s death. The Order faced great loss. The deaths of Sirius, Dumbledore, Moody and with her brother George losing his ear proved how real the war was and the fight to make the world a safer place.

Now it was the second of May, and the fight of everyone’s life was in place. Death Eaters swarmed every inch of Hogwarts, attacking students whether they were armed or not. Y/N ran down the corridors, deflecting spells and sending jinxes back and forth. Her adrenaline was soaring, not knowing where exactly she was headed, but the only thing she knew was to survive and protect the students around her. Y/n never thought she would ever cast the killing curse in her life, but when a second-year Hufflepuff was about to be killed, the spell left her mouth before she could stop herself. The Death Eater fell back unmoving, Y/n took the hand of the small boy she saved and hurried him to the nearest dormitory or classroom.

“Here, go!” she ushered him into the room, “Stay here and do not leave! Hide somewhere and be alert, you understand?” The boy nodded furishouly, his small body shaking and clutching his wand tightly in his hand. The redhead raced out of the room, closing the door shut before darting down the hallway. A flash of familiar hair caught her eye and her feet carried her to the source. “Ginny!” She shouted upon seeing her sister. The younger Weasley halted her movement at the sound, turning around only to collide in the older one’s embrace. “Oh my God,” Y/n breathed, “Are you okay? Why are you out here? I thought you were to stay in the Room of Requirement until this was over?”

“Harry needed me to leave,” she told her sister, the two moving to a corner where they were slightly hidden from the battle, “He needed to search the room for a possible horcrux. Once he went in, I left and came here. I couldn’t just let my friends and family fight with the chances of them getting killed and just sit and wait!” Y/n sighed, bringing a hand to wipe the sweat on her face which resulted in more dirt being rubbed.

“While I don’t like you being involved, I understand where you’re coming from.” She pauses to rub her nose bridge, placing her hands on Ginny’s shoulders to look at her sternly, “Mum and dad might kill me for letting you fight, but there’s really no time to negotiate and stop you. At least find Neville or someone who can stay close to you and keep you covered, okay?” Ginny nodded, embracing her sister once more in a tight hug.

“Stay safe, sis.”

“I will,” Y/n told her, “You stay safe too, I’ll see you soon.” The two pulled away and Y/n bolted away down the hall while Ginny rushed to Tonks after seeing her battle a Death Eater and rushing to her aid. Y/n turned the corner, something in her stomach dropping and her intuition telling her something bad was about to happen. She heard the sound of a duel taking place and followed it. Familiar voices echoed in her ears and her pace picked up. The redhead rounded the corridor, jets of light flashing in her eyes and she spotted Fred and Percy battling Death Eaters while Harry, Ron, and Hermione helped while dodging incoming jinxes.

“Hello, Minister!” Percy bellowed, sending a jinx at the man, “Did I mention I’m resigning?”

“You’re joking, Perce!” Fred shouted and looked at his brother. Y/n watched the two and in the corner of eyes she could see a Death Eater with their wand raised. Her brothers could not see the man, and she noticed he was pointing at the wall directly behind them. Before she could think, Y/n sprinted as fast as her feet carried her, eyes widening when the flash of light emitted from the want of the assailant. At that moment, nothing mattered other than making sure her brothers were safe. All the years of being ignored and looked down upon by them due to being sorted in Slytherin seemed to vanish, and Y/n felt water line her eyes as she got closer.

“You actually are joking, Perce… I don’t think I’ve heard you joke since you were--.”

“Fred! Percy!” Her scream ignited and the two snapped their heads toward her just in time for the redhead to push them both out of the way at the exact moment the air exploded around them. The two brothers along with the Golden Trio were flown back from the impact, all landing onto the stone ground with a groan. Pain erupted to several areas of their bodies which would surely bruise. Dust covered them, their vision blurred from how much was in the air.

Fred pulled his body up, groaning from the pain in his side and coughing from how much dust filled his throat. He scanned the area and saw how the wall he was in front of was blasted apart with stone and wood now covering every inch of the ground with a large pile in the middle. It took two seconds for the ginger to realize what had happened, the last thing he saw was his sister running at him before he was flown back. He immediately got up and rushed to the pile of debris, staggering over the stones while shouting his sister's name.

“Y/n!!” He screamed, moving at a fast pace. “Y/n, can you hear me!” The boy began throwing the many pieces of stone and wood away from the pile, searching for any sign of movement and listening for sound. Percy and the trio joined in, the group shouting Y/n name and digging through the debris. “C’mon Y/n I need you to tell me where you are!” Fred grew more and more worried, feeling his heart sink by the second. It was not until he heard a pained groan and rushed to the source. He spotted a hand peeking through the rubble and Fred shouted for the others saying he found her. They all rushed to him, removing the stone covering Y/n's body, allowing Fred to pull her out of the wreckage when they were able to get her upper half revealed. She let out a scream, pain erupting all through her and Fred tried his best to get her out as gently as he could.

“I got you, sis.” He said with a shaky voice, “I got you.” With one quick but harsh tug, Y/n was removed from the rubble and was laid onto the floor. Everyone surrounded her, becoming frozen by how much blood covered her body. Cuts and gashes painted her skin, her clothing ripped and chunks of stone were embedded into the many wounds. Her breath wavered, gasping for air and they all felt their heart race at the sight. Hermione, with shaky hands, pressed a palm on to a deep cut in Y/n’s neck. The Weasley girl hissed, blood filling her mouth and dripping down her lips.

“You’re going to be okay, Y/n,” Hermoine’s voice cracked, trying not to look at the many wounds which the girl could tell will be fatal if not treated immediately. Ron could see a large gash right above his sister’s temple and gently laid his hand on top of it, while biting his lip to stop a sob from escaping. He knew it was bad, and his sister was dying in front of him. They needed a healer, but the Great Hall was several corridors away and Ron feared she would not make it in time. Percy began calling for help, applying pressure onto her stomach which had been cut open when a large piece of wood had impaled her. Harry stayed on his feet with his wand ready for any threats while also keeping his eye on Y/n, his heart dropping at the sight of her battered body.

“I can’t--,” Y/n gasped with a tired breath as Fred held her hand, “I can’t feel my legs.” She could hear them gasp, Fred’s hand becoming tense in her hold.

“We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey!” Fred shouted and went to pick her up, the others keeping their hands on her wounds to hold the bleeding but when they tried Y/n erupted in wails from the pain filling her by the slightest movement. It was like a volcano, fire filling her blood. The thick liquid poured out of her wounds, her skin becoming pale. Hermione’s hands were painted red, as were Ron and Percy’s. The sound of her screams were so loud it echoed through the nearby hallway and caused tears to stream down Hermione’s face.

“Stop!” she shouted, “Fred stop! It’s too late, she won’t make it!”

“You don’t know that!” He yelled back trying to get his sister into his arms, his clothes now coated in red. Y/n began to shake from the pain, becoming numb by the intensity and Fred started to panic.

“Fred, she’s losing too much blood,” Hermione cried, “She’ll bleed out before we can even get her to the Great Hall.”

“Are you serious, Hermione?!” Fred shouted in disbelief over the chaos around them, “Do you even hear yourself?! She’s your friend and you’re gonna let her die!? ”

“Fred stop,” Y/n's hoarse voice whispered. The ginger boy looked down at his sister, her upper body being held up in his arms while the others continued to put pressure on her wounds but blood continued to seep through their fingers.

“What--?”

“She’s r-right,” Y/n interrupted, “I-I won’t make it. The pain is too much--I-I can’t move and I'm losing too much blood.” She was shaking, fighting against what was pulling her to the other side to have a few precious moments with her family. “You need to get out of here, go find mum and dad.” Fred could not believe what he was hearing, neither Ron nor Percy. All three boys felt their eyes water and Fred tightened his hold on her. Percy grabbed her other hand, and Ron kept his on her head, covering her wound while tears flooded his face.

“Y/n,” Fred stuttered her name, “We can get you to a healer. Madam Pomfrey will help and she will heal you, you’ll be fine.” The words were more to convince himself. He watched as her lips curled up, tired and broken eyes looking into his.

“Fred,” she sighed, “You and I both know that I am not going to make it.” A sob escaped his throat.

“No! You’re not dying! You’re going to be okay!” He cried, dropping his head so his cheek rested on her hair. “You’re going to get out of here. You’re going to go home and learn how to walk again and become a potioneer like you’ve always dreamed of. You’ll get married and have kids…” He trailed off when sobs overtook him and he began to cry into her hair. Fred never believed he would ever have to watch his sister die in his arms. He had never felt more pain in his life than in that moment watching her gasp for air as her life started to fade away. What made it even more painful was knowing she saved him in the process, “I was supposed to die, not you! Not you!”

Fred started to think back to all the times he and George would ignore Y/n, never including her in pranks or just ordinary things. The moment she was sorted into Slytherin they acted like they were not even related at times and Fred felt more tears fall knowing he could never make up for it. He won’t ever get the chance to show her how sorry he was.

“Y/N go get your brothers and tell them supper is ready.”

“Yes mum.” Y/N raced up the many flights of stairs in the burrow in search of her twin brothers. When she got to the room, she knocked gently and waited for a reply but did not hear one so she pushed it open to see the two boys sitting on the ground in between their beds with several items in front of them.

“Hey, hey!” Fred shouted in surprise and George started to gather their many inventions away from her sight. “You can’t just come in here without saying anything!” Y/N frowned at him.

“I knocked,” she told him, “neither of you responded.”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, “Still does not mean you can just walk in our room unannounced. We are doing something very exclusive and can’t risk you snitching it to mum or dad or your pal Snape.” Y/n’s eyes narrowed at her brother.

“Snape is not my ‘pal.’ He just stands me more than you lot because you are always causing him trouble.” George mumbled something under his breath, but the girl could not hear it. “And besides, I haven’t told anyone about your previous antics so why would I do so now?”

“Oh please,” Fred said in an annoyed tone, “we know you told Filch that we were the ones who put fireworks in his office second-year.” Y/N’s jaw dropped at the accusation, her cheeks becoming inflamed as anger rose.

“I did no such thing!” she shouted, “whoever told you that was a lie! I never ratted you out to Filch and why would he believe me? He thinks I’m just as bad as you two because I’m a Weasley.”

“Sometimes I don’t understand how you are one?”

“Excuse me?” she said appalled, “What in the bloody hell do you mean by that?” The twins just looked at her with blank expressions while she felt her eyes begin to water.

“Well first,” Fred started, “the most obvious is that you are the only one of us who got sorted into Slytherin. A house you know is full of pure-blooded pricks and bullies who hate everyone but themselves. You don’t like quidditch like the rest of us and prefer to be by yourself working on potions. Snape likes you, but hates the rest of us and you just have always been the outkast in the family. Who knows, you may even become a Death Eater like the rest of your housemates. Maybe you already are one and just haven’t said anything, wouldn’t be surprised you never tell anyone in this house what you are up to.” Y/n stayed silent when Fred finished, she felt a small tear fall down her cheek but neither of her brothers looked like they were unapologetic. She bit her lip giving a small nod and wiped away the drop.

“Mum wants you to know that supper is ready.” Turning on her heel, Y/n paced out of the room with the door slamming shut behind her. She shoved past Percy who simply glared at her for her attitude and bumping into him, obviously not knowing what the twins had said to her to cause such emotion. The redhead burst into her room, collapsing onto her bed and pushing her face into her pillow as cries erupted from her, being muffled by the pillow. She felt her heart break, her brother's words replaying in her head causing torment like a radio playing a horrible song over and over again.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he wept into her hair, “I’m sorry I treated you so badly. For everything. Ignoring you, pranking you in ways that had humiliated you and made you cry. Accusing you of snitching on us when you never did.” He held her close to his body, breaking inside each time she made a sound of agony. “I’m sorry for what I said to you during fourth year. I’m such a horrible brother,” he sobbed, “Please sis, don’t go. Don’t leave us.”

“It’s okay, Fred,” she hushed him, stroking his arm with the hand Percy wasn’t holding. The two other Weasley boys were sobbing next to her. They two often treated her unfairly and were now going to live in tremendous guilt and despair, begging God to not take her. “It’s okay,” she said again, this time quieter.

“Y-Y/N,” Percy stuttered, but she simply hushed him.

Her voice grew weaker, and the group knew it was only moments before she would be gone forever. “It’s gonna be okay. I love--,” it was getting harder to speak, but she was fighting. “I love you all.”

“We love you too. We always will,” Ron said and Hermione started to cry harder, leaning onto Ron for support. Harry no longer looked around for Death Eaters, his own face drenched in tears at the sight in front of him. He felt anguish in him, seeing another friend die at the hands of those who wanted him dead.

“You think I’ll see Cedric up there?” She questioned, eyelids falling shut and the image of her best friend filled her mind. Happy at the thought of possibly seeing him again. Fred let out a small cry before she felt him nod.

“Y-yeah,” he croaked, “He’ll be waiting for you. You’ll be together again just like before.”

“Freddie?”

“Yeah, sis?”

“Take care of George,” she managed to breathe out, “Tell him I love him.”

“I will,” He sniffed, feeling her take one last breath.

“Promise me you will live.” The air left her body one last time, the pain no longer present and Y/n felt at peace, unable to hear Fred’s last words to her.

“I promise. I love you, sis.” But Y/N did not respond, causing him to gently shake her. Her lack of reaction caused Fred to collapse into a heap of cries when her body finally went limp in his arms. “Y-y/n?”

Percy felt her hand become unmoved and he too, cried in heartbreak. Ron held onto Hermione, turning his body away so he did not see his now dead sister in his brother’s arms. His heart was heavy with agony and he could not help console Hermione for he was in the same state. Harry dropped his head, sadness all within him at the loss of someone he looked at as family. He would never forgive himself, and he wished nothing more for Y/n to be brought back.

“Y/n,” Fred tried again, but to no avail. “W-wake up. Please w-wake u-up.”

The Golden Trio had to force themselves to leave, to continue their search before more people died. Harry and Hermoine having to drag poor Ron away from his siblings. None wanted to go, but time was limited and it took all their strength to get up and leave Percy and Fred with Y/n’s body. Promising Ron they’d get her to their family once it was safe to do so.

The two Weasley brothers lost track of time. They stayed put, mourning the loss of their sister until the battle ceased and they were drained of tears. It soon became quiet in the castle, Death Eaters had retreated upon Voldermorts order and bodies laid all through the halls.

“We should take her to the Great Hall,” Percy spoke with a dry voice, hoarse from all the cries. “Take her to mum and dad.” Fred was still, looking in front of him at the dusted hallway full of debris from the explosion that killed his sister. She was still held close in his arms, eyes closed and the blood stopped flowing but coated every inch of her skin along with Fred’s clothes. It took all his might to look down, eyes landing on her face. She looked peaceful, her lips slightly curled as though she had died smiling and that gave Fred some sort of comfort despite her damaged body.

That she left the world at peace.

“You think she’ll watch over us? Even though we treated her like shit?” His voice cracked. The older Weasley gazed down at his little sister, a small yet heartbroken smile on his lips and he cleared his throat. His hand came over her forehead to move some of her red hair, flinching at how cold her skin was.

“Yeah,” he said, “I think she will.” Fred carefully stood, cradleling Y/n in his arms. Percy rose beside him, grabbing their discarded wands and leading them out of the hallway, careful to avoid the debris around them. They reached the Great Hall, hearing the sound of others. Many were painful groans, others were cries of despair. The two emerged in the doorway, paying no mind to those around them and instead continued to walk forward until they saw their parents, Ginny and older brothers Bill and Charlie. Ginny was the first to see them, and rushed to them relieved they were okay and searched for her sister, but when her eyes landed on what was in Fred’s arms she halted. She could see the flaming red hair similar to hers and the blood stained clothing on the unmoving body. Her mouth went agape, hand flying to cover it as her eyes filled with water threatening to escape.

“Please tell me it’s not--.” But Percy simply shook his head, looking at his baby sister with sorrow and Ginny let out a small scream, falling to the ground but was caught by Bill. He stared at the Y/n’s lifeless body, his heart breaking into pieces and he tried desperately to console Ginny, but found it hard to battle his own grief emerging. Molly and Arthur ran upon hearing their daughter’s scream and froze when they saw their son.

“Fred,” Arthur said in a hesitant voice. His son looked at him with tear filled eyes, lips quivering and for Fred, he could feel his body start to shake.

“I-I-I,” he could not find the words, “S-she saved us. She saved us…..” His knees nearly gave out and his brothers Percy and Charlie helped him lower their deceased sister onto the ground. After gently placing the fallen Weasley onto the stone floor, Fred once more collapsed over her body as his grief overpowered him once more. Molly fell back into her husband’s arms, wailing in agony, he too had trouble holding her up as his body racked with sobs. Ginny was still on the floor, being cradled by Bill while Charlie and Percy stood over Fred, rubbing his back with tears of their own falling.

Onlookers watched with solemn expressions. The sight was gut wrenching but unfortunately resembled many throughout the Great Hall as friends mourned friends and teachers draped blankets over their deceased students.

“No! Not my girl!” Molly screamed, “Please not m-my girl.” She fell to her knees, crawling over to the opposite side of her daughter's body and caressed her cold cheek. Blood was all over her precious face, adorned with cuts and gashes, the most horrific on her head and neck. Molly did not even want to look down at Y/n’s body, for she was afraid of what else had happened to cause her daughter such a horrific death. Arthur could see the gaping wound in Y/n’s torso, his stomach lurching at the sight and he had to turn away as he felt nauseous.

George burst through the entrance of the Great Hall. He had separated from his family and Fred at some point during the battle which resulted in his anxiety to soar at not knowing where they were. He heard the wounded were being treated in the Great Hall along with the bodies of those who perished being moved until further notice, so the ginger bolted to the location as fast as he could. His eyes scanned every inch of the large dining hall, and soon he could see a group of people with the same colored hair as him, instantly relieved.

George walked with a rushed pace, slowing with confusion when he heard the wretched cries of his parents and siblings. They were all huddled, blocking his view of the ground. He immediately looked for Fred, becoming relaxed when he saw his brother alive. But George’s stomach dropped at the broken look painted on his twin’s face.

“F-Fred,” he stuttered out as he approached him, “what’s wron----.” Something behind Fred’s shoulder caught his eye, George’s gaze falling to the still figure on the ground. That’s when he realized the fact Fred was kneeling on the ground, hovered over the figure, and his mother was sobbing into their neck.

His twin lifted his head, turning to meet George’s eyes, which revealed the horrific reality waiting for him. There, lying on the stretcher covered in a dark red--almost black--substance and nearly unrecongnizable, was his sister Y/n. Unmoving. Dead.

All the air left George’s body, face consorting to match his family as he took in sight. The clothes she wore were tattered. Dirt and grime painted the visible parts of her skin not coated in her blood. Gashes upon gashes. A nasty intrusion on her temple and torso. George felt the bile form in his throat and before he could stop it the redhead was hunched over, spilling the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Arthur instantly went to him, rubbing his back. Once it appeared George had got it all out, Arthur produced a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his son's mouth as he had seemed to freeze.

“Y-Y/n,” he dropped to his knees. Crawling to Fred and their mother. His twin slightly moved aside to give space. George instantly reached for her hand, devastated when the cold touch hit his skin. “No.” Tears dropped from his eyes, George looking to his family for them to say it was all a nightmare. “N-no. No!”

“George,” Molly whispered, reaching over to comfort him.

He shook his head, not wanting to believe the truth. “What happened?!” Fred winced, returning to a heap of sobs.

“She saved us,” Percy whispered, making George look up. “There was an explosion. A-and she pushed us out of the way. A wall came crashing down,” the older Weasley boy flinched, head dropping as he relieved the most horrifying moment of his life. “It crushed her.”

Molly wheeped into her daughter's chest. Picturing the scene. Unable to save her baby girl who she had spent so long wishing for.

For the twins, it was like a piece of them was now missing. Creating a hole deep in their hearts. They all came into the world together. Y/n first, then Fred, lastly George. How were they supposed to go forward without the third piece of their puzzle?

This question only surfaced the ocean-sized guilt swimming in their veins. Like Fred had done in the precious moments he held their dying sister, George was replaying all the times he had tormented Y/n. The constant pranking. Humiliating her in front of her friends and schoolmates. Getting her in trouble with their antics when she took the fall. Accusing her of snitching on them.

George crumbled, clutching onto Y/n’s hand as he lowered his head to her torso. Praying to whoever above to take care of her in the afterlife and begging her spirit to forgive him. Wishing he could turn back time to tell her how much he loved her. He wanted his sister back.

A cold breeze brushed his ear, almost like a whisper. George thought he felt a hand on his shoulder, but when he turned the closest person to him was Percy, and he was at least five steps away.

Whatever it was Fred had felt it two. The redheads glancing to one another, anguish filling their gaze. For they had their suspicions of what--or who--was responsible for the touch.

Turning back to Y/n’s body, Fred and George pictured what life was in store for them without their sister. Reality sunk in. No longer a bright light, but instead dimly lit.

For what was once three became two.

#weasley twins #george weasley #fred weasley #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins imagine #fred weasly x reader #george wealsey x reader #weasley!reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #fred weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfiction #ron weasley #ron weasley imagine #slytherin!reader #platonic!reader #harry potter angst

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mastermindmiko · 25 days

Text

The Ear that wasn't

pairing: George Weasley + reader

word count: 1,312

warning: injuries, death and it's a bit angst

Summary: After the battle of the seven (eight) Potters, George becomes distant, and you decide to find out why

masterlist

After moving to the Burrow, things have changed. Everyone’s more sombre, and the world seems a little darker. The impending doom of Voldemort’s terror a bit more real. Madeye died and Hedwig as well when we were attacked while moving from Privet Drive to here. It was fun pretending to be Harry for a bit, the polyjuice potion wreaked and tasted awful, but looking like someone else was amusing, that was before death eaters started throwing spells left and right at least.

The most noticeable change in my life was the distance that George has been placing between us for a month since we came here. The first two days I stayed by his side while he was recovering from becoming ‘holey’. We couldn’t bring any medics to the Burrow, so we all had to make due with our collective medical knowledge; finding spells to ease the pain, recalling how to put on a proper bandaid, and how to stop the blood from gushing.

Fred and I were riding together, and went to the Burrow via another route along with the others in order to confuse the death eaters as to who was Harry while George was getting hit with a sectumsempra. We arrived at the Burrow and there seeing Hermione’s sad expression looking at me and Fred made my heart lurch to my throat. I couldn’t recall a time I’d run faster inside to find George lying on the sofa.

I spent the first few days tending to him, and spending as much time near him as possible, mostly due to the nature of our relationship and also to take care of him. We’d only gotten news about his ear when we finally reached madame pomfrey (a trustworthy person) who told us that George wouldn’t be able to get his ear back. I’d expected it, but George seemed heartbroken.

I stayed behind after dinner, tidying up the table at a slower pace than usual, watching as George cleared the cups too. His movement is precise but never without a little whimsy. The bandage is still wrapped around his head, and he starts shoving cups between the crook of his elbow to hold more in one go. I clear my throat, “How do you feel?”

“Well.”

I sigh, knowing how curt all his replies have been. He heads into the kitchen and I continue to stack the rest of the plates before waving my wand, sending them into the kitchen. I walk behind them and point my wand into the sink, allowing them to gracefully pile up inside. The magical tools get to work and start rinsing.

I look into the living room first looking for George, and I see him sitting on the couch twirling around his wand, and staring off deep in thought. Madame Pomfrey had informed us that his (additional) lack of focus could occur due to the concussion and spell, as well as some loss of balance. I gulped, “Do you need anything?”

“No.” He grumbles, and leans back sinking into the sofa. I walk closer to him and take a seat beside him. He doesn’t bother to spare me a glance. I bit my lip and hesitantly said, “We can go take a nap for a bit in the room if you’d like?”

“I don’t need you fussing over me.” George snaps, and I purse my lips, used to this attitude from him over the past month. I shuffled closer to him, and confessed, “I’m not fussing over you, I just want to spend time with you.”

He sets his wand aside and sighs. He puts his head in his hands, hunching over his thighs. The fire crackles and fills up the silence between us. I place a comforting hand on his back, stroking his skin, feeling the soft material of his shirt and his vertebrae. He sighs once more, and deep in thought he whispers, “Why?”

“Because you’re my boyfriend.” I chuckle at the absurd question, even when he wasn’t I loved spending time with him. He looks at me, palm holding his cheek, and my amusement dies down from seeing his miserable eyes, and wrinkled eyebrows. My hand lifts from his back and moves to his hand. I ask, “What’s going on, George?”

“I-” he stutters, and looks away. I squeeze his hand supportively, and he closes his eyes. I let all the thoughts that have been jumping around in my head stay for a second of all the things he could say, the most prominent being: I don’t love you anymore. He sucks in a breath and turns back to lock into my eyes. He mused, “I’m not good-looking anymore, and I don’t want you to not want me.”

I blink, and process. George, the ever confident, forever handsome, cocky and funny George Weasley doesn’t think he’s good-looking anymore. What would even make him think- oh…the accident. I say, “Is this about your ear?”

He looks away once more and I know that it’s the truth. I start rubbing comforting shapes over the back of his hand, and I reach over to grab his other hand. I protested, “I don’t think you’ll ever stop being good-looking, not to me.”

He scoffs, not believing my words. I could see his eyes begin to have a slight shine to them. I pout at his expression, and I drop his hand to reach over and cup his cheek. I turn his head towards me, and brush my thumb over his cheekbones. He let out a bitter chuckle before he smiled, sputtering, “I’m practically deformed.”

I smile at him, and give him a look. I lean into him, smelling his familiar scent that I haven’t been able to smell in a while. The wood and biscuits engulf my senses. I kiss his lips, and his eyes flutter momentarily to a close. I let my lips linger near his before pulling away and watching his closed eyes as he sighs before looking back at me. I whisper, pulling his face to mine, “Even if you were a troll, I’d still love you George.”

He gulps and checks my eyes for any glimmer of a lie. He leans into my hand, and pouts. He relaxes looking at my face before slowly turning his head to press a kiss to my inner palm. His lips linger and he cups my hand with both of his. He kisses it again before adding, “I don’t want you to not be attracted to me.”

“You’re plenty attractive George with or without two ears.” I commented. He squeezes my hand, the warmth of his fingers spreading to mine, providing a comforting head during the dead of winter. I convince, “And I believe that there’s more to our relationship than just your looks, George. There’s your wit, and your kindness, and your humour- and I could go on for so long, so you’ll have to stop me, and your smile and laugh, your courage-”

“I get it, I get it.” George chuckles, and pulls our intertwined hands back up to his lips to press a kiss on each of my knuckles, feeling his warm breath on my hand and the softness of his lips on each of my knuckles. He gazes at me sincerely and says, “Thank you.”

“It’s only the truth.” I state, and he pulls me into a long and deep hug, resting his head into the crook of my shoulder, giving me kisses whenever he sees fit. My arms still reach after him when he pulls away to say, “I’d also still love you even if you were a troll.”

“Thank you, that’s good to know.” I laugh, and I finally see that wonderful humorous grin of his. He stands up and encases my hand to pull me up beside him. He presses his lips to mine then suggests, “How about that nap?”

a/n: I really wanted the gif to be the scene when Harry and Ginny are kissing and he goes "Good morningg", but alas I couldn't find one, so this will have to make do. Hope you liked this one.

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l0standn0tf0und · 9 months

Text

damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes

george weasley x fem!reader (hints on short!bookworm!fem!reader)

words| +- 4400

in short| classic story. George falls in love with his best friend. nothing more and nothing less

warnings| my english, angst, fluffy ending, mention of sex and long ranting about George's feelings

author’s note| it's supposed to be a short one. About 1000 words or so, but I got excited. and well, I tried to make it George's pov. because, you know, ✨️his pov✨️. also, it's my first scribbling in two years. enjoy))

He has been with other girls. He'd even said he has been with a lot of other girls.

There were a couple of girls he dated for a while. There were those he just fucked with. A quickie after a Quidditch match won't hurt anyone. It doesn't matter whether he won this match or not. He's well aware of the fact, that girls like him. But none of these so-called relationships were serious. Perhaps this was because he didn't consider any of them as something serious.

He tried this relationship thing because he was curious, what it's like to date a girl. But during his dates, bringing a cup, all painted with tiny violets, to his lips and listening to the chatter of his now ex-girlfriend, he thought that she'd never say such a thing and she'd never order such a lusciously sweet cupcake. And she wouldn't have dragged him to Madam Puddifoot's in the first place.

After smashing Hufflepuff to smithereens on the Quidditch field, he pressed some Ravenclaw's back to one of the walls in the locker room, pounding deep into her, hearing this girl's moans become louder with each thrust. He caught himself thinking about what her moans would sound like. Would she be filthy and loud underneath him or her moans would be more shaky and soft?

He wouldn't say any of these girls were bad, unattractive, or something like that. Just the opposite, all of them were great. But they simply weren't…her. She got deep under his skin, intertwined with his veins, and blossomed in his lungs. She was his Flower. That's how he called her.

George remembers clearly well how it started. No, not his feelings, they started so naturally, that he didn't even notice how he fell for her. George remembers clearly well how he started calling her flower. This happened back in the second year, during History of Magic. He was getting more and more bored by the second in that stuffy classroom. And there was nothing unusual about it. He got bored very easily. So he quietly began scribbling in the corner of her parchment. He remembers the angry look little Y/N gave him as she carefully pushed her piece of paper away from the redhead. She was also bored but did her best to focus on Professor Binns' words. But George continued, all smiling and trying to stifle his giggles caused by her irritation. At some point, his incomprehensible doodles began to look like something that resembled Professor Binns, but his glasses and mustache were abnormally large compared to everything else. She smiled, took George's hand, and carefully drew a tiny flower on his wrist, before returning her attention to Professor. It took him a while to find out what exactly she drew with so neat lines. It looked like an iris or daffodil, he couldn't tell exactly and she didn't know either. But after that she became flower. His flower.

And now George is sitting in the library. He came here to at least start an essay on Potions. Snape become ruthless lately, so it was easier to work in a group on this 5-page assignment about Golpalott's Third Law. That's how he, Y/N, Fred, and Lee ended up in the library. George knew that this was one of her favorite places at Hogwarts. Two and a half hours earlier, when they had passed Madam Pince's stern gaze, he almost unconsciously walked to her favorite table, between the Poetry and Reference sections.

George's re-reading the same sentence in the book for the seventh time. There's something about the idea that a whole product is greater than the sum of its parts, but he can't really understand its meaning because he's thinking about her. It would be more accurate to say that he's thinking about what Lee and Fred had said about her. The evening before, his twin, the only person in this world who was closer to George than Y/N, again claimed that his love was mutual. Fred constantly tried to push him to confess his feelings. His argumentation was always the same. Fred said that he’s older, which means wiser, and he sees everything, how she steals glances at his little shy brother in classes and how she blushes just as much when George is near. But that evening, Lee has added some new information, which George still tries to process and connects with everything else these two have been telling him through the years.

George returns to yesterday in his thoughts. He was lying on his bed again, hopelessly pressing his face into the soft fabric of the pillow, while these two opened the Pandora's box again. Sometimes it seemed to George that they were enjoying this ranting about his 'unrequited' love situation over and over again.

"Ok, look, if she felt nothing but platonic stuff, she'd not be this frustrated when she found out about you and Jane" Lee spoke in a devious voice, getting more comfortable on his bed.

"Wasn't it Jade?" Fred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Doesn't matter, I mean this Hufflepuff blondie with the ribbon"

"She's Janis" George sighed. He remembered this relationship, which lasted just over a month or so. Janis was nice, but she talked a bit too much. And this black ribbon, which she constantly wore as a headband, pissed him off. He admitted that the ribbon matched well with her uniform and emphasized the brightness of her hair. But something was wrong with it.

"I thought she was Jade"

"Anyway, why are you telling me about this now?" curiosity and a slight note of annoyance were noticeable in George's voice "It was quite a long ago."

"Look, mate. I'm your friend, right?" Lee sat down, crossed his legs, and the blanket crumpled under his weight. One more movement and the red piece of cloth would end up on the floor. "But I'm her friend as well. She knows that I know. And knows that I overheard that conversation of hers. And I promised, I won't blab it to you…But as it turns out, I'm not the best secret keeper and I'm more of a friend to you than to Y/N"

To tell the truth, Lee was a great secret keeper. Just like he was a great friend. This made George seriously wonder why Lee broke the promise. And so unceremoniously 'blabbed' everything to him. What if he's really as blind as he was told and doesn't see obvious things. He doesn't deny the possibility that she liked him too. More precisely, he doesn't want to deny it. He hopes that Y/N also feels something that crosses the boundaries of friendship. Even if her feelings aren't as strong and all-consuming as his. As if time collapses into one tiny speck and explodes at light speed every time George sees her. He hopes for at least something, for at least a tiny feeling, a tiny sparkle in her heart that flares up at the sight of the tall redhead.

Many times he imagined and replayed in his head the moment he would confess his feelings. Tell her how all the sounds around become quiet when he hears her laugh, how each and every touch imprints and burns on his skin. He dreamed, how he would tell how much he loved her, that he could finally be honest and reveal everything that was in his head and heart.

But the younger twin thinks the stakes are too high. And maybe he's right because she thinks the same thing to herself. Even though George wants more, he doesn't want to risk everything he has right now. His eyes begin to water and a lump rises in his throat every time he assumes he could lose Y/N. His flower. He knows her too well to predict what would happen next if his feelings weren't mutual. Their communication will become awkward, they both will be cautious and afraid of saying or doing something wrong. And then, after some time of this weird communication, their connection will fade away. And even if his love is mutual, what if he and Y/N don’t work out as a couple? What then?

He can't let their previous and future years of friendship go down the drain. Y/N was the first person he and Fred met on the Hogwarts Express. And from the very first year and the very first greeting, the three of them became inseparable. Always together.

She wanted to be a prefect, so she avoided detentions and tried not to get involved in their pranks directly. But Y/N was always there, helped to plan each of their mischiefs, assisted with new inventions, and saved him and his brother from professors. George can't remember how many times she rescued them from Filch while she was patrolling the corridors. He was so proud of her last year when she finally received this little silver pin that gave her extra authority and responsibilities.

George can't imagine Christmas without Y/N now. She visits the Burrow every year and his mom adores her. Perhaps because Y/N helps with cooking more than anyone else in this house. But George can imagine in detail how hard his mother would scold him if he suddenly announce that Y/N won't come for winter break this year because he's an idiot and they stopped talking to each other.

It's not Christmas without having a snowball fight with her and Fred in the backyard. At some point, she always tries to throw Fred into the snow. But due to the obvious height difference and Fred's strength privilege, she never succeeds in this. So she's becoming the one who's giggling on the ground, covered with snow. George always laughs at this little performance while his very kind twin scatters her down with even more snow.

George's envious of his brother in some way. Fred has never seen Y/N as more than a friend or a second sister. He's envious that his twin's heart doesn't ache as much as his does. And his older brother doesn't have to make such a difficult decision. No, George doesn't wish his brother pain. No way. He just doesn't want to suffer himself. George understands, that he's not just at risk of losing her, but also at risk of depriving Fred of his best friend too. If he and Y/N don't work out, what will happen to her friendship with Fred? Yes, perhaps they will be able to maintain some thread of communication. But they certainly won’t be best friends like they are now. George wouldn't handle it. He believes that it's better to be content with the small moments he has than to lose everything.

"Where are you going?" Fred's question snaps the younger twin out of his thoughts. He's still in the library and didn’t even notice how the chair next to him became empty, as Y/N headed towards one of the sections.

“I need this book, about…” her words meet Fred's raised eyebrows "I just need another book"

A quiet “uh-huh,” sounds either from Fred or Lee as her back is already hidden between the shelves full of colorful covers.

George looks for a while longer after Y/N. If someone raised their head from studies or books and glanced at the redhead, they would see the gears turning in his head.

“I…” George moves away from the table. Legs of the chair slide across the floor with a quiet rustle. He tries to come up with some kind of a reason, but Lee is faster.

“We got it, loverboy in shining armor, go already and help your princess” In response George groanes, and a quiet "fuck off" slips from his lips as he heads after his 'princess'. He doesn't know why he decided to follow Y/N. He just wants to. Perhaps he simply feels calmer when she's around, she gives him a feeling of warmth and home just by being near.

And there she is, just three bookshelves away. George can understand why she likes spending time in the library, although he doesn't share this sympathy. It's quiet and peaceful here. High ceilings, impressive columns, and alive stained glass windows are throughout Hogwarts, but they look especially charming in this place. Perhaps it's the specific lighting or the huge number of cabinets filled with old parchment and colored bindings. And, to be honest, he likes the smell of books. There is something about that scent that the redhead can't explain.

Y/N walks along the shelf at the end of the bookrack. Her gaze runs along the top row of colored spines, searching for what she needs. Her hair is up in a messy, almost domestic, bun and secured with a wand. But some strands fell down, framing her face and descending down her neck. The tie hangs loosely around her neck. She undid it after half an hour in the library.

George just stands there and admires her for a while, unable to tear his gaze away. It seems to him as if a soft golden glow surrounds each curve of her glorious body. And this light calls him to come closer. None of the other girls looked like her in his eyes. He swallows, breaks out of this perfect trance, and quietly heads to her.

The girl stands on the very tips of her black shiny shoes. Her fingers almost touch that very book on the top shelf. "Why the hell do they always shove the most useful stuff so far away?" Y/N thinks to herself before long fingers touch the cover of the "Ingredient Encyclopedia". She sees as right above her head a familiar freckled hand takes the faded green binding from its place.

"You're welcome, flower" Y/N turns around at the sound of the voice and finds herself trapped between the worn books and George.

The corners of his lips lift slightly and the younger twin can feel the warmth approaching his cheeks. He can't control it and, to be honest, he doesn't care when she's only millimeters away.

Her "Thank you" is so quiet that George isn't sure she actually said it. Their eyes meet, and it seems to redhead that everything that happened next was in slow motion.

She just wanted to take the book. Such an innocent action. She inhales sharply as her fingertips accidentally brush his hand. He feels high-voltage sparks come from this touch and spread further throughout his whole body and explode where his heart is.

They both froze, not breathing and not breaking an eye contact. George could swear he was ready to give everything he had to live in this moment forever. Just standing next to her in an empty section of the Hogwarts library. Looking into her eyes, losing himself in their depths. And feel the warmth radiating from her hand on his.

Earlier, he thought he'd be nervous at a moment like this but he isn't. He just stares at her eyes, then at her parted lips. "George, don’t do it" he repeats to himself. His fingers shudder imperceptibly with the thought of taking her wand from messy hair, so her locks would fall freely on her fragile shoulders. "Control yourself". He's trying, so damn hard trying not to bury his hands into these shiny strands and pull her into a kiss. It takes all his strength not to. And George doesn't know what happened. Was it Y/N's rosy blush and his brother's words about mutuality flashing through his head. Was it her, standing so close that he could smell his amortentia coming from the girl.

But he gives up. George bends down, without even thinking about it, and presses his lips to hers

George pulls away even faster than he has leaned toward her. There is exposed fear in his widely opened eyes. Eyebrows are raised as the realization crushes his thoughts. His mouth opens and closes without making any sound. It seems that he's more shocked by his own action than Y/N herself.

He fucked up. He knows it.

Y\N stands there still. And this is the first time in the redhead's life that he can't read the emotions of his best friend. "Ingredient Encyclopedia" is still in her palm, but George abruptly pulls his hand away, losing all the warmth she provided to him.

"I'm…I'm sorry" is the only thing he mumbles before storming away from the book section, from the library, from her.

George almost knocks down a first-year with a blue tie when he rushes out around the corner. He fucked up. Y/N didn’t respond to his kiss, she didn’t react at all. She just froze in place. George doesn't understand how he could let himself do this. He shouldn't have. He heads towards the huge wooden door with such speed that some students' parchments fly off their desks. He doesn't notice this, nor the questions from Fred and Lee, that meet his broad back, nor the comments of the furious Madam Pince.

She appears around the corner shortly after George, calling his name. She throws the book on the table and quickly walks past her friends. The faded green binding slides across the wooden surface and lands near Lee's inkpot. Another millimeter and the small glass jar would have been knocked down and poured a black liquid onto the pieces of parchment, only half written with essay.

"For Merlin's sake, what is going on?"

“I'll bet you a galleon that George confessed to her and ran away” Fred speaks with a sly grin, shifting his gaze from the hurrying Y/N to his dormmate.

"Too much drama for these two, don't you think?"

"So…?"

"You're on" Lee agrees, moving the book away from his writings. He only managed to write the introduction and the beginning of the first few theses. It was far from 5 pages but it was at least something and definitely more than George wrote.

George walks through the library entrance. He feels like everything is crumbling inside him as he walks. The sound of his heart pounding in the ears muffles the voice calling his name somewhere behind the back.

"George!…"

He is supposed to be happy. He finally did what he had dreamed of for many years. He finally kissed the girl he was so hopelessly in love with. But instead, he feels as if a dozen Dementors attacked him. All of the hope and happiness have been sucked out of the world.

"George!…"

He'd better get away from here as fast as possible. He'd explain himself later. He'd better get to his safe space. But where should he go if he felt safe only next to her?

"George!….for Merlin's sake!….. I can't keep up with you!"

He recalls everything in his head, from what happened a minute ago to the first time he saw Y\N. He understands that all those happy moments, the tenderness, the memories they both made and the plans for the future, are all gone. He's so disappointed and so angry with himself.

"George!…"

"What?!" He stops and turns around, seeing the girl almost running along the empty corridor of Hogwarts, approaching him.

George heard her calling him. But he's not ready to face the consequences. Not now. He needs time to pull himself back together and come up with something. But he gives up. Again.

"What do you wanna hear, Y|N?!" His hands shoot up in a questioning gesture. "That I'm head over heels in love with you? With your damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes! With your damn angelic laughter, which drowns out all other sounds for me! And I even with the way your brows frown when you're concentrated!"

"Georgie…" He doesn't seem to notice her soft voice but continues. She wants to say something, but his confession is unstoppable. And she understands this, so she decides to just let him rant.

"Or do you wanna hear that you became a fixed point in my mind where my thoughts always come back to? That I randomly grin to myself like an idiot when I think about anything related to you. I don't know when exactly I fell for you. But it feels like I've always loved you. You're doing something to me, no one else ever could. You make me feel special and not just another poor Weasley or the second clown of Hogwarts. Every damn time you make me feel important because of who I am and not because I'm the beater or I'm the easiest way to get to Fred." His voice became calmer with each sentence. The irritated raised tone turns into his normal deep timbre, and then it will turn into a soft mumbling. " And you make all of my anxiety and worries turn off just by your presence. I was so fucking angry with myself and you did something I dunno how to explain. So now I can't be this angry. And you are…you are just….you"

She stands next to him. Almost as close as it was back then in the library. Perhaps if George wasn't so nervous, he'd realize that he liked the scent of books because it was her scent. Every time she left the library after spending several hours there, she had this slightest scent on her. It mixed with her perfume and shampoo, so it was impossible to separate and difficult to notice it.

"Are you done?" George doesn't know what to do and just nods his ginger head. Then she rises on her tiptoes and neat fingers finds the collar of his white shirt and pulls it towards her, forcing George to lean forward. Her lips touch his. Again. Only for a few seconds but this makes him blush even more, if it's possible. His freckles aren't this noticeable anymore.

The girl pulls away, the heels of her shoes meet the cold floor and her hands slide onto George's chest. But he continues to stand slightly bent forward, batting his eyelashes. She still has to lift her head slightly to look him in the eyes. In the future, this height difference will piss her off sometimes, but he'll enjoy it endlessly, liking this even more every time.

George stares deeply into her eyes, trying to understand what just happened. But he feels that he can breathe again. And somewhere inside, where his soul is, irises and daffodils and all the other flowers start to blossom slowly. Did she really kiss him? But earlier…

"But you've…." His eyebrows furrow as the puzzles are slowly coming together in his head.

"I was taken by surprise" She explains as she watches his face soften, lips rise into a wide grin that he can't stop. And why the hell should he stop it. "And you didn't give me time to understand what's going on"

George covers her hand with his own. That hand that's laying so peacefully on his rapidly beating heart.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, millimeters from her face. She can feel his breath on her lips, like a ghost kiss, dragging the moment before he crushes his lips down on hers into another real one.

Her lips are soft, almost silken, and pillowy against his own. This kiss is not just a peck, like the previous ones. This time George can understand that her lips are not exactly what he thought. Her lips feel thousands of times better than he could ever imagine. He finally feels relieve and all the world's happiness. All the happiness he supposed to feel. Happiness, that had been accumulating for a long time and didn't leave the palace of his dreams, Finally to escape to freedom. His palms find their place around her waist as he pulls her closer, forcing their bodies to collapse into each other, holding each other as tightly as humanly possible. Her hands shoot up to his hair, slowly letting her fingers slip into ginger strands. He kisses Y/N like he has never kissed anyone else before. With all the tenderness and love he has kept locked in his heart till this moment. George doesn’t see this, but he feels how the gray world around him is filled with colors again. The warmth spreads all over his body and his brain stops working properly.

This girl, this bright and breathtaking girl, is his. Their lips moved softly, delicately, and almost innocently before. But Y/N is driving him insane and intoxicate him with the sweet smell of her body. He can feel her hand slide to his nape and she lightly runs fingers up along his neck. Tiny soft moans escape his lips in the surprise of the goosebumps this action sent down his body. As a response, George brings up his freckled hands to cup her face. His calloused fingers caress her flushed cheeks as he nibbles her lower lip, not so hard to hurt, but enough for Y/N to feel it. Now it's her turn to let out a small, barely audible moan, which makes him break out into a shit-eating grin.

The girl gently pulls away, while George still holds her face in his warm hands.

"I love you too, Georgie. And your damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes"

Bonus:

He lets out a giggle caused by quoting. He's unable to open his eyes for a few moments after this kiss, a huge smile on his face

"But…"

"But…?" The question sounds teasing even though his voice is hoarse.

"We have an essay to finish. It's due tomorrow, and you haven't even written a sentence yet." she wrinkles her nose in a taunting way.

"Nooooo" Redhead lets out a groan, throwing his head back. "Don't make me do this, Flower"

"I won't write it for you" She kisses his pouty lips as a response to the puppy gaze he gave her. Y/N frees herself from his cozy grip and heads towards the library. "You'd better write at least something unless you prefer scrubbing cauldron instead of…let's say…sneaking into Hogsmeade."

George catches up with her a couple of seconds later. He slightly leans down just for a moment to catch her hand in his and intertwine their fingers.

"Y/N…." he tries this 'puppy gaze trick' again.

"Fine." She sighs in defeat "I will help you with a plan and theses, but you will write it yourself."

George breaks into a smile once again and brings her hand to his lips, leaving kisses on her knuckles. Well, the thesis for Someone's Third Law is at least something. Plus, he’s sure that he’s sure Y/N will write his essay as soon as she finishes hers. And, to be honest, Fred's too.

After some time, when they are a meter from the huge wooden door, George suddenly wonders.

"Galleons or Sickles?"

"What?"

"Galleons or Sickles?" He repeats, opening the door in front of Y/N

"Wait, you're wondering how much they bet on us, aren't you?"

George overtakes the girl, ending up in front of her, and leans down so that their eyes are at the same level. He shoves his hands into pockets and wrinkles his nose therefore mocking Y/N's previous actions.

"I'll bet a Galleon that Lee owes Fred a Galleon"

masterpost

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley headcanon #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley smut #george weasley x fem #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fluff #george weasley fic #george weasley angst #the weasley twins #weasley twins #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins smut #harry potter fanfiction

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ankoluvly · 3 months

Text

“Am I going to die?”

𓉸ྀི

characters; Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ron Weasley(and a hint of Hermione + Harry), Draco Malfoy, Cedric Diggory

Tw; Death, descriptions of Gore

𓉸ྀི

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝐹𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝒲𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓁𝑒𝓎

There was Chaos everywhere, screaming, fire, sounds of incantations, even the slowly growing smell of Death.

Time went by fast as a piece of the hogwarts roof falls on-top of y/n. as she went from watching her boyfriend Fred Weasley, and his older brother, Percy Weasley reconcile, to laying on the floor on her boyfriend’s lap. she couldn’t even remember getting hit or falling onto the ground. she felt blood trickle and flood into her ears, slowly blocking out the blurring sound of her boyfriend’s yells.

“Y/n c’mon! please, squeeze my fingers again, Percy do something for merlins sake!” Fred painfully says in panic as he and his brother desperately try to do something to stop the bleeding coming from your head. Fred could feel his girlfriends- no not girlfriend, y/n, the girl who’s always been there for him and shared so many memories with, taught Ginny how to do makeup, helped his mother with household chores whenever she could, go from cold to suddenly hot.

Fred could feel his heart shatter and fall into the depths of stomach, feeling unbelievably deep, as he watched y/n completely stop moving. Wide eyed as Fred tried to stop the enormous amounts of blood from staining her face, continuously wiping the blood away. “Y/n you’re strong, you promised me and Ginny you’ll be fine, come on,” Fred says almost desperately. “And my mom, George, Ron, Harry..” Fred says desperately as y/n mutters, “I can’t move.. Am i going to die?” She mutters as she even manages to fail at squeezing her boyfriend’s hand for a last time. Falling in and out of consciousness, struggling to breathe, struggling to even get out the words “I love you”, before her breath stills to a stop.

“No, no, no..” Fred says as his eyes widen at the sight, his girlfriend completely bloody in his lap, at the school they met. He wasn’t even able to say one last ‘i love you’. “I love you y/n please, for merlins sake,” Fred says as the guilt consumes him, he wasn’t able to say a final ‘i love you.’ while she was still conscious, she instead died hearing the sound of chaos and his sobs.

Percys eyes widen as he looked up, quickly trying to grab Fred. “Fred let’s go, please Fred, we need to go!” Percy says as he tries grabbing his brother and pulling him away from his girlfriend’s dead body.

“I’m not leaving y/-“ Fred couldn’t finish, feeling himself get blasted off the floor, “Fred!” He could hear his older brother yell before cutting cut off himself. landing hard on the ground, his conscious left him almost instantly.

It seems the universe won’t let Fred and y/n go through the pain of losing one another.

𓉸ྀི

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝒢𝑒𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒 𝒲𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓁𝑒𝓎

Y/N and George met in second year, They immediately got along. Maybe it was the fact Y/N was the only one who could tell the two apart.

“He’s not George! i am! seriously Y/N, we’re gonna be working together and you can’t even tell us apart!” Fred says rolling his eyes, attempting a prank. “No. you’re Fred. you have a rounder face and straighter upper lip.” Y/N states matter-of-factly, dumbfounding the twins. “Seriously?”

Stupid right? that a simple snarky comment on their appearance would create a tight friendship for six years. Y/N being the one to talk them out of the overly-stupid pranks that most likely would’ve gotten them expelled.

Isn’t it also stupid how a snarky comment caused two people to fall unbelievably in love with each other?

No, well, at least not to Y/N and George. They immediately felt a connection, with George being the more sympathetic twin, Y/N would go to him with more personal things. George could, sometimes, admit his wrongs more often than Fred. and was more of a joy to be around when you’re stressed, sad, whatever negative feeling you have. Eventually they went to the Yule Ball together, they’ve been together ever since. They were the power couple of Hogwarts. Honestly, their relationship even made some jealous.

They were by no means perfect, They still had arguments. They were mostly started by one or the other saying they’ll try working on something, but Never doing it. the argument today is one of them,

“You aren’t listening to me George! You guys take your pranks too far!” Y/N yelled frustratedly, fighting the urge to rip her hair out of her head. She just found out about the twins ‘prank’ on Graham Montague, shoving him in a broken vanishing cabinet and leaving him in there without food or water. “He’s fine Y/N! nobody ever complains about our pranks, but you!” George yells back stubbornly, not getting up from his chair. “He could’ve died! he had no food or water! and was in a Broken Vanishing cabinet! all because he tried taking a couple of house points away, as if that’s what anyone is concerned about right now!” Y/N explains for what had to be the fifteenth time. “Ok, it was a bloody mistake Y/N.” George tries to come to an agreement, though his tone shows he doesn’t care. “But he was just some Slyth-“ George starts. “Don’t even with that nonsense! So what if he’s a Slytherin? he’s a person, get over yourself, most logical people get past house grudges by now.” Y/N exclaims with annoyance.

“Seriously Y/N just stop! i don’t care, you’re so bloody tense all the time.” George says with same amount of annoyance. Y/N couldn’t bother to come up with a rebuttal, simply grabbing her bags with her mountain of books and left for class.

The argument affected the both of their moods for the rest of the day. Eventually it was the last class of the day, Y/N was running late because she had to help a first year find the Potions classroom. She was lost in thought, after school should she try and talk to George calmly? or wait for him to go to her? she was so busy thinking, she completely ignored an annoying, agonizing, forced high pitched voice.

“Y/N!” The voice called snapping Y/N out of her train of thought. annoyed she says, “For bloody hell, what?”

Y/N felt like time stopped when she turned and saw who it, her blood freezing with the coldness her body turned to. Professor Umbridge.

༄ • ༄

George was humming impatiently outside the girls washroom, waiting for Y/N. he watched her go into it, what was she doing in there for so long though? it was moaning Myrtles bathroom, an average person can only spend so much time in there.

“She not coming out?” Fred says as he walked towards his twin. “Nope…What in merlins name could she be doing in there?” George says inpatient. “Y’know Y/N, she could be holding a study sesh in there for all we-” Fred was cut off, both of the twins jumping slightly, getting startled by Moaning Myrtles yell.

“What is this?! Somebody, oh somebody! i’m not getting blamed for this! oh wait but..are you ok? oh god!” Moaning Myrtle exclaims before actually leaving the bathroom, wailing her away down the hall.

George doesn’t wait, who cares if it’s the girls washroom. “Y/N?” George says as he rushes in, he felt his skin go pale when he noticed her hazily sitting on the floor, blood dripping from her wrist.

“Y/N what is this?” George says as he immediately dropped down to her, the amount of blood surrounding them was no doubt terrifying to anyone, especially if it belonged to someone you loved so dearly.

Y/N struggled to speak, explaining in a weak voice. “Professor Umbridge…she punished me but then..while i was walking something happened and it just started burning..then bleeding.” Y/N explains.

“Bloody hell!” Fred exclaims in shock at the scene in front of him. “Spells aren’t working.” Y/N explains in a panicked though sleepy tone. “Am i going to die..?” Y/N asks. “No no, you’ll be fine just rest your eyes..” George says nervously but reassuringly, her eyes forcefully close, blocking out the sight of her two best friends of six years, and her boyfriend.

Now, in Current time, George sits on the dry grassy ground. his Mother resting next to him. the murmurs of the rest of his family and friends could be heard in the distance. He couldn’t take his eyes off the two nicely decorated stones. standing tall as they read,

‘Y/N Y/L/N, November 12th 1996.’

‘Fred Weasley, May 2 1998.’

𓉸ྀི

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝑅𝑜𝓃 𝒲𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓁𝑒𝓎

Ron sat on the beautiful shade of green grass, munching away on some food, listening to Hermione and Harry talk quietly, snacking on some of their own snacks. They sat against a tree. In front of a Grave stone. Ron was admiring the gravestone with a slow curve to a point at the top, little hearts twisting along the edge, Flowers decorating up the gravestone, perfectly shaping around the words,

‘In Loving memory of Y/N Scamander’

‘August 6th 1980-June 3rd 1993’

Ron remembered back in 2nd year, when Y/N mentioned how pretty flowers look when grown over graves, so he didn’t dare cut the pretty, blue Clematis off her grave. Ron couldn’t bring himself to talk, how could he?

He missed her, he missed her so very dearly. Y/N was his best friend since they met at just seven years old. They would have sleepovers, they would binge eat together, they had the same sarcastic attitude, everything. Except Y/N was still better than him. She was amazing at Potions, she managed to find joy in care Magical Creatures, she even managed to be good at Divination. And she was well-liked, then it was all taken from her too soon. In a way, Ron couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault, whenever he recalls their last day together.

“Sneak out with you guys? why?” Y/N asked questionably as she set her Muggle studies book down. “I honestly doubt we can do anything for Buckbeak, i don’t want to witness that.” Y/N explains sadly, not understanding what they think they could possibly do. “Y/N- your suitcase from your grandfather! Buckbeak already loves you, so i’m sure you could get Buckbeak in there no problem.” Ron says excitedly, feeling hope that they can help Buckbeak. “And no body knows that you have the suitcase.” Harry says with a confident smile that they’ll pull it off.

Ron watched with a smile as Y/N’s face brightened up after hearing their idea, “Oh my god yes! i can’t believe i didn’t think of that earlier!” Y/N says as she got up quickly, before stopping slightly, and asking “Am i going to die?” With an unserious smirk, in reference to the many other past times the group have had near death experiences from seemingly harmless adventures. “Of course not, all we’re doing is getting Buckbeak.”

That dammed idea, sure, they couldn’t have predicted what would happen after, Y/N didn’t even manage to get Buckbeak though, being dragged into the hut by Hagrid.

“Ron?” a voice calls from beside him, Hermione. he was so lost in thought he didn’t even realize the tears swelling in his eyes and lip trembling, as he looked towards the face of his concerned and saddened friends. “It’s already been two years..” Is all Ron could say, turning back to look at the Grave of his old best friend, who he hasn’t seen in so long. despite how sad he was, the tears didn’t drop, as if his own tears were trying to drown his eyes.

“I’ll never forget..her scream, it was so..i don’t know..” Ron mumbled.

“Oh god..Professor Lupin-” Y/N says, her eyes widening as she, Ron, Hermione and Harry walked back, watching in terror as their professor changed, morphing into a deranged looking werewolf, and Sirius Black turned into the black dog, trying to calm his friend. her and Rons attention were brought to Peter Pettigrew, quickly trying to make his escape. Y/N was about to grab him until he tried shooting a spell at Ron, quickly yanking Ron down, making the spell miss. “Bloody hell!” Y/N says in frustration as she tried to quickly get Peter but was too late, as he scurried away. “Ron ar-” Y/N tries to say,

“Y/N! move!” Hermione yells quickly behind Ron. “What?” Y/N says, listening as she tried to quickly move, until she got thrown forward up the ground with pair of sharp claws.

“Y/N!” Ron screamed in panic quickly as he tried to get up, Harry quickly going to mutter a spell, before freezing, as a shrill, deafening, traumatic yell pierced the air, along with the faint sound of something sharp piercing skin and pulling.

The trios eyes widened in absolute terror as the werewolf on top of Kiersten got shoved to ground by the giant, black dog form of Sirius Black. Ron felt as though his soul quite literally left his body for a second as he looked and saw Y/N, his best friend, in front of him. “Y/N!” Hermione let out hysterically as she quickly ran towards Y/N. while Harry and Ron stand frozen, not even noticing the incoming dementors.

Ron just stared with wide eyes and his body unbelievably trembling as he saw Y/N, laying on the ground with rigid breaths and wide eyes as she stared at the grass, a big, deep, wide open claw cuts going down her stomach, more piercing her neck and legs. The cuts were so deep that she was already soaked in her own blood, stomach, legs and neck red. Cuts so deep that you could see parts of a human body you never should, bone, pale flesh.

Ron was trembling slightly as he recalled the memory, tears finally falling. It seemed his friends knew what he was thinking about, as he turned and saw Hermiones eyes full of tears as she just nodded slightly, putting her arm around Ron as she rested her head on his shoulder, letting out a pathetic and sad, “I know Ron..” Harry looking forward as well as he struggled to hold his own tears back at the sounds of his own friends crying, not realizing how much he’s been hiding back the memory and thought of Y/N.

The sad atmosphere and crying from the trio of best friends doesn’t match the beautiful tree Y/N loved, that the three were leaning against, and gorgeous gravestone in front of the three.

The trio got slightly silent, even chuckling slightly when a leaf fell from the tree, a beautiful shade of green and in the perfect shape of a heart, landing right in front of the trio.

A sign from their amazing best friend that she’s still there, even as an angel ʚ♡ɞ.

𓉸ྀི

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑜 𝑀𝒶𝓁𝒻𝑜𝓎

Y/N and Draco met before Hogwarts, at Madam Malkin’s. Draco can remember the memory vividly, despite how long ago it was.

Draco stood boredly waiting, glancing around Madam Malkin’s store, it looked like a place for stray dogs to Draco. The young, platinum blonde boys attention was quickly diverted to the door as someone else walked in, a girl, around his age. She had Y/H/C, which was oddly satisfying to look at.

He wasted no time, strutting his way over towards the other student. “Hello, i’m Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.” Draco says, wasting no time at offering his hand out. “And you are..?”

“Y/N Y/L/N..” Y/N says taken aback at his sudden introduction, before smiling slightly and shaking his hand. “Are you going to Hogwarts this September?” Draco asks with a slightly disinterested tone. Y/N’s face brightened up at this, “Yes! i am, i know you most likely are considering the fact your here, what classes are you looking forward to? oh and do you think Harry Potter will be at Hogwarts? What house do you think you’ll be in, i feel like you’ll be in Slytherin because..you know you’re a Malfoy but,”

And it just went on and on, shocking Draco slightly. he couldn’t help but feel relieved once Y/N finally left. “What a blubbering moron..” Draco said quietly to himself, rolling his eyes. Though he was slightly confused on how unbothered Y/N was talking to a Malfoy.

And that now brings Draco to where he is now, absolutely whipped for that woman, while also being ashamed of himself. Sure, she was a pure-blood, but she was a Hufflepuff. How could he let himself fall for a Hufflepuff? that’s a shame on the Malfoy name.

But no matter what he did, he just didn’t feel right when with other people, or when Y/N was with other people. for example the Yule Ball, seeing her with that wretched Potter, it made Draco nauseous. Why did he need to have those feelings?

Maybe in a way it was because she was always so kind, one of the few students in that rubbish school that didn’t find a way to shame Slytherins for god knows what. Maybe it was because even when he would throw bitter insults she ignored it, barely giving him the time of day. Yet even when he would be rude at times, she would talk to him or treat him with respect. Even when he was an asshole throughout 90% of their… friendship? who knows, Y/N simply brushed it off.

What made Draco finally accept his feelings you ask? well, he never truly did, that lingering feeling of self shame remained slightly, though it was his Mother who made him feel like he wasn’t disappointing their family, or a disgrace to their family name. sure, She was shocked at first, but she didn’t let it affect her relationship with her son, and hey, at least it wasn’t a muggle.

“I want you, to be happy Draco. the family name should not have weight over who you love.” She explains sympathetically to Draco.

Though he came to the realization that he waited to long for Y/N. She was with the ‘perfect’ Harry Potter now. Or at least that’s what he thought.

When Y/N noticed how much more aggressive and rude Draco had been since the Yule Ball, she kept on bugging him to tell her what his problem was, becoming increasingly annoyed herself. and when she found out why, she was shocked herself.

“Draco…You have this completely wrong, me and Harry both had no dates. So we decided to just dance together for fun after Ron and Hermione started arguing.” Y/N explains, though it was no secret she was trying to hide her amusement.

And since then, the two have been in a secret relationship. Draco being able to find peace in Y/N, her understanding his views and pressure from his family name. She taught him how to not be so bloody rude to muggle-borns, resulting in his ended use of the word ‘mudblood’. They dated for a good two years, until the weight Draco had on him to join his family in being a death eater.

He always thought he would be just like his father. Well known, well ‘respected’, a death eater. But, he was a child in an adult situation. it’s easy to say you want to follow in your parents footsteps when you don’t fully understand the severity of it. That’s when their issues started. Y/N was trying to be nice, talk him out of it. and he truly loved her, so he said, ‘Ok’.

But when it actually came the time to decide, he couldn’t bring himself to say ‘no’. with his own life, possibly being on the line, or even Y/N’s, he couldn’t take the chance. That’s what ultimately ended their relationship.

“Draco..” was all Y/N could muster as she looked at the mark on her boyfriend’s forearm. she was hurt..in a way she felt betrayed, he assured her he wouldn’t go down this path. “Y/N..please, don’t fight against us..just completely leave. you could die for merlins sake!” Draco said almost desperately, with the loom of the upcoming ‘war’, Draco was scared. “No, absolutely not, i’m not abandoning my friends at a time like this.” Y/N says firmly.

That’s what Draco had to admire, her loyalty. If only he could’ve been that Loyal to her. He thought he was helping her. how utterly foolish he was.

“Draco.” Voldemorts voice drawled out in a sinister faux, mocking tone of respect. “I’m assigning you with an important task for you to prove your loyalty to me.” He drawls out, smiling devilishly.

Draco tensed at the mention of his name, and turned his head slightly to be able to just see his dark lord. “Y/N, Draco. i know about her, and i know she’s making you a weaker version of yourself, holding not only you, but me back.” Voldemort says. Dracos heart started racing at the mention of Y/Ns name, his jaw tightening.

“I want you to kill her, Draco. prove your loyalty to me.” Voldemort says, grinning in a sadistic and sick way. Dracos heart started beating even faster, is it him or Y/N? if Draco fails to kill her will he be killed? what if he can come up with a plan?

“Bellatrix, you’ll be with him. incase he gets cold feet.” Voldemort adds, still with that grin that Draco would love to Avada Kedavra off. but he was the dark lord, of course he’d find joy in this.

That’s what led to right now, Draco and Y/N standing, facing each other in a cool, abandoned hallway within their old school, just hours before he had to kill her, to give her a warning. “Y/N! i’m telling you to leave! or you’ll die, don’t you understand that?!” Draco exclaimed in frustration.

“Oh? am i going to die?” Y/N replies sarcastically. “For the last time Draco i’m not leaving my friends! maybe if you didn’t care so much about your family name we wouldn’t be in this mess! you could’ve been with everyone else, Then we wouldn’t be destined for death!” Y/N spat bitterly. “I thought i was helping you! now i need to kill you! but if you leave now,” Draco tries to explain, but Y/N wasn’t having any of it.

“Helping me?! what else did you expect to happen? he’s the dark lord for christ sakes! he was going to find out regardless, did you expect him to have pity on you? to let you love the ‘enemy’?” Y/N mocks rudely, she was bitter, understandably so. she was lied to, and now her life is on the line, along with her ex boyfriend. Who, under her facade, she still deeply cares about. “If you do kill me, do you have any idea how much everyone will hate you? how they’ll have it out for you? and even the war, you can die. so then all of this was for nothing!” Y/N rambles, letting her emotions get the best of her, not even caring if she made sense.

“I know! we can avoid that if you just leave!” Draco repeats, getting increasingly frustrated at Y/Ns stubbornness, that he would usually love. “Come with me, then.” Y/N says suddenly. “Or you’ll die too, since you failed to kill me.”

Y/Ns face seemed to soften slightly as she said the last bit, but before Draco could reply, A voice cut through the tense air.

“Avada Kedavra!” a female voice called out, as a spark of green appeared behind Kiersten, instantly hitting her back as she fell to the ground. Revealing none other than Bellatrix, a few feet away from the two. “Y/N!” Draco quickly called out, going to check on Y/N, despite knowing that there was no doubt she was dead.

Bellatrix walked over, fiddling with her wand in her hand as she laughed.

“Oh Draco, you’re suppose to kill her! not tell her to leave. You silly boy.”

𓉸ྀི

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝒞𝑒𝒹𝓇𝒾𝒸 𝒟𝒾𝑔𝑔𝑜𝓇𝓎

Y/N Y/L/N and Cedric Diggory. the power couple of Hogwarts. they seemed like they had the perfect, movie worthy relationship. which honestly, they did.

They met in first year, and were best friends ever since. Cedric Diggory was a popular, a prefect, and captain of the quidditch team. Y/N was also a prefect, popular, though more reserved, and was at every quidditch game for Cedric.

Whenever they had arguments or disagreements, they would simply stay away from each other until they were calm. Then talked it out, were honest with each other, and took each others advice to heart. They were like the role model relationship for the rest of Hogwarts.

Though, they usually could work out disagreements, this one seemed to be a special case.

“Do you need to do that stupid triwizard tournament? do you have any idea how dangerous it is? and with everything that’s been happening at Hogwarts already-” Y/N has been ranting for about 30 minutes to Cedric about how the triwizard tournament was a bad idea. about how bad things have already been the past three years at hogwarts, and over all dangerous nature of the event. Cedric understood of course, it was all valid fears. but this really meant a lot to Cedric, and he knew with Dumbledore nothing too serious will happen at Hogwarts.

“Like what…if you..i don’t know..” Y/N says frustrated with herself for not being able to find the words as she plopped down onto Cedrics bed next to him. “Am i going to die?” Cedric asked chuckling slightly as he placed his hand onto hers, “Is that what you’re trying to say? because if so, i can assure you that will not happen.” Cedric says with amusement in his voice. “Especially with Dumbledore as Headmaster.” Cedric reassures Y/N with a soft squeeze to her hand.

Y/N looked over to her sweet boyfriend with a soft smile, “You’re right..i just have a bad feeling.”

But Y/Ns agreement didn’t last long, after Cedric actually got in, and somehow Harry Potter. a fourth year.

“How dense are you?! clearly nothing good is going to happen!” Y/N said frustratedly, she’s been arguing with Cedric about how Harry got in, and over the past three years, Trouble always seems to follow Harry. “Y/N! please calm down,” Cedric starts. “Why?! so that you can find some other way to excuse the obvious right in front of you? that this is a bad idea?” Y/N said sarcastically rolling her eyes. but stopping as she waited for Cedrics response. “No..you’re valid to be worried but absolutely nothing will happen. And this means a lot to me, And this isn’t what i wanted a Picnic for, i wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to yule ball with me this year,” Cedric says, trying to calm Y/N down. Cedric couldn’t deny that it was a little weird, but it wasn’t that big of a deal, right?

Y/N sighed in defeat, but smile slightly as she said, “Fine…but please think about what i said.”

And that leads to now, the third task. Y/N waited nervously. she was trying to ignore her nerves that something bad was about to happen, bouncing for foot slightly against the floor. as much as she hated to admit it, she hoped that if something bad happened it wouldn’t be Cedric. She was mentally praying that it’ll happen to anyone but Cedric, and that no one will be too seriously hurt.

Y/N nervously swallowed back what felt like her heart coming up her throat, as she fixed up the initials on her hand that became blurry due to sweat. writing with shaky hands, ‘𐌂.𐌃 ♡’

Y/N smiled slightly when she saw Harry and Cedric, before her smile turned to a face of terror.

“That’s my boy! That’s my son!” Y/N could hear Amos Diggory, her boyfriend’s father yell as he rushed over to Cedric.

Y/N followed quick after, “Cedric!” she exclaimed, she almost wished she didn’t anymore as he saw her boyfriends face. he looked traumatized and lifeless. Y/N could feel the tears start to fall down her face at the sight. “Harry! Harry what happened?” Y/N asked as she knelt down close to him. she was surprised herself with how she hasn’t completely lost control of herself yet.

“He’s back! Voldemorts back,” Harry starts, Y/Ns crying tops for a brief moment as her eyes widened. She couldn’t muster anything else. All she could feel was pity for her perfect and kind boyfriend.

𓉸ྀི

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Written by Ankoluvly, 2024 on tumblr!

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Cedrics and Dracos were lowkey rushed, and suddenly added. this short fic(?) is a rewrite of something i wrote a couple of years ago :)

₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Might do a part 2 and add Remus, Blaise, Tom, Mattheo, Theo, and Lorenzo if i start to feel comfortable writing them, i’d also add Newt as a bonus Remus and Newt were suppose to be in this but is struggled with writing them so much.

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