#George Weasley x reader series | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

odinsonslut · 2 years ago

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Young

⊹ genre: Fluff mostly, minimal angst

⊹ pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin female reader

⊹ themes: Friends to lovers

⊹ summary: Fred rejected your advances, claiming you’re too young. You set out to seduce him, which backfires. Unwarranted comments were made in your presence, and George attempted to comfort you, finally explaining his fears and feelings in the process.

⊹ warnings: Swearing, third-party slut-shaming of the reader, mentions of an emotionally toxic relationship, very brief mention of drugs.

⊹ word count: 1.7k

⊹ a/n: I don’t know why I’ve chosen to base this whole fic off of rejection yet again, but It’s completely different to the last, trust. A cute Fred one today because I’ve had a recent fixation on the twins and can’t seem to write for anyone else atm.

Confidence has come naturally to you since the first day you walked through the castle doors. Many would wager that’s why you ended up in Slytherin over Hufflepuff. You’d never had issues letting people know how you felt about them; rejection had never been a concern or a fear simply because your self-assurance wasn’t so easily deteriorated.

This wasn’t ever in question until two weeks ago. You hadn’t thought twice about approaching Fred after months of mutual teasing, or so you thought it was. You went to his spot on Gryffindor’s table in the morning, greeting him with a single pumpkin pasty. You waited till he took a bite out of it before making some quip that you couldn’t seem to, or rather didn’t want to remember, about owing you a kiss and maybe something more in return for it, to which he painfully, tragically mustered a chuckle past his lips, probably the most awkward position I’ve seen him in, before finally finding the words to let you down easily.

“You know I love you endlessly, but we’re friends” He could’ve just as easily stopped there, but he continued.

“You’re just a little too young for me.”

Young

He briefly dated Amelia Farrow last spring, and she’s four months younger than you, so obviously, it wasn’t an age issue. He saw you as immature, a kid. He couldn’t even begin to picture you as attractive in any form. Actually, feeling affected as a result of rejection was unfamiliar; it was scary. How had you allowed yourself to feel enough for a man that your own stability suffered? As a result, you didn’t just feel hurt, you felt inferior, and that was harrowing enough in itself.

You were just beginning to fall into another rant directing every expressional detail from the twitch of his bottom lip to the scrunch in his left brow when you were interrupted by a loud sigh.

“Babe, I couldn’t live a day without you, but swooning over a blood-traitor Weasley is way more than I can handle for the 7th time this morning”, Pansy quipped after a supportive kiss on my cheek.

“Give me a solution then”, you pleaded, faux pouting while hugging her thighs desperately.

“Seduce him, love; you’ve got the best ass on anyone in this entire school. Malfoy tells me he’s got a preference for it, says he lets a lot slip when they’re off smoking muggle grass.”

“Teach me how. You’re probably the only girl in our year every Slytherin male wants to shag a second time.”

It was the first quidditch match of the year, so naturally, you put on your uniform from 3rd year to cheer the team on. Malfoy found your overreaction to rejection amusing, like a fish out of water, to use his words, so he didn’t mind playing the role of the pawn in your game. You spent all game cheering Draco on, making sure you were just enthusiastic enough to attract Fred’s attention.

The game finally came to an end. Gryffindor just barely scraped by, with Harry catching the snitch. I could already see Oliver Wood pushing Fred about, demanding a valid reason for his poor performance during the game. He pushed Wood off of him and stormed off with an exasperated look on his face.

I caught up to him a few feet away, deciding to skip past the jokes, figuring he wasn’t quite in the mood.

“Hey, you okay?” I timidly asked, reaching out to stroke his hand

“You sure move on quick, don’t you?” He spoke harshly, ignoring my question completely

“Are you serious? You reject me, then get mad at my attempts to move past that?” I shoved his shoulder, feigning annoyance. I knew exactly what I was doing, trying to prompt a reaction out of him.

“And what the hell are you wearing? Damn near sent Adrian Pucey spiralling into the benches with your ass out like that.”

“So I had both team’s beaters distracted, huh?”

“I wasn’t distracted so much as horrified.” He immediately followed

You shoved him playfully. “Shut up, weasel. You’re literally still staring at my tits.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t put that outfit on for me to stare at?” He whispered as we came to a halt just outside the quidditch changing rooms

To my dismay, I couldn’t think of anything to do or say but scoff at him, to which his grin grew even bigger.

He turned to leave, my brain regaining activity without the pressure of his eyes in contact with mine.

“I put it on so you’d have a clearer image to jack off to tonight.”

I headed back to my dorm before he could get another word in.

I approached the great hall hand in hand with Daphne Greengrass, completely satisfied with the way I left things with Fred yesterday, convinced I’d won. The smile on my face immediately dropped as I heard the conversation taking place at the Gryffindor table.

“- he’s even got a Slytherin girl in his pocket, dressing up like a little slut just for him.”

“Tell me, Weasley, does she like it rough?”

“Seems like the kind of girl that’d take it in the back.”

Your heart dropped as you heard comments from miscellaneous men in the house, jeering over each other, collectively patting an angry-looking Fred on his back and shoulders in a congratulatory manner.

We made eye contact. Before the men at his table sensed my presence, too, I broke away from Daphne and sprinted out of the Hall. I sank by a tree in front of the lake as I took shallow breaths.

What hurts is that every assumption they made about my character felt deserving. When did I become the girl so desperate for one man’s attention that I so pathetically made myself more sexually desirable in his eyes? So that his lust would cloud his judgement and throw me lay at the very least? I hadn’t even realised how delirious I was acting and how painfully obvious it was to everyone but me just how much more I clung to the idea of him. It was like a montage of clarity was playing in my brain, of the way I continued running up to the Gryffindor common room every morning, taking every opportunity to make what I thought was subtle physical contact with him. God.

I let out a little yelp when I finally opened my eyes. Fred sat right next to me, leaning his head against the tree the same way I was.

“God, you scared me half to death! fucking cunt” I muttered the last part, allowing my anger to peak through

“I had Malfoy help me make sure those guys’ mouths stay shut. I’m sorry you had to hear that, and I’m sorry they were able to say more than two words without me hexing them and their mothers, to begin with. None of what any of them said is worth your care. They heard us talking outside the changing rooms yesterday. They’re all jealous little virgins that have-

“They were things I needed to hear” I cut him off before he fell into a rant that honestly wouldn’t have made a difference to the way I felt.

He looked at me incredulously, struggling to find the words to respond.

“I was seeking your attention so incredibly desperately. It embarrasses me to think about it. You said no; I should’ve respected that and left it as it was. I took your reasoning personally, and for the way I’ve acted since that day, I apologise, truly,” I continued.

He sighed. “I only said what I said out of fear. I’m sure you remember I briefly dated a Hufflepuff girl in your year, Amelia. I made a mistake getting involved with her. She didn’t know how to separate love from attachment, and it got to a point her dependence on me started affecting her mental well-being, along with mine. Nobody saw much of me during the time we were dating because I was just so caught up with making sure she was okay since she relied on me completely. I didn’t realise I was even allowed to have boundaries at all in a relationship. She constantly made me feel selfish and uncaring for wanting space or even just time with my family. When you told me how you felt about me, I had recovered from the relationship, but I hadn’t yet allowed myself to consider a future relationship with another person. I said what I thought I needed to say to avoid our relationship turning into the one I had with Amelia. But ever since you told me how you felt about me, it made me realise nothing about us has ever been platonic to me. I have never thought of you that way, and even when I tried to, I didn’t know how to look at you in any other way than lovingly. I feel so much for you. I could see myself loving you so easily. I’m just really afraid. I don’t know if I’m ready to navigate that all over again.”

It took me a while to respond, taking in everything he said in a state of such vulnerability. I noticed a stray tear on my skirt; it was his. I immediately reached out to hold his hands in comfort. I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off yet again.

“I will never allow anyone to say a word against you ever again, love.” He added

“I care a lot about you, Fred. I reacted the way I did, with such force and conviction, because it’s unfamiliar to me too, feeling so deeply for someone. Whatever you want to come from this, we can do. I want to learn to keep my independence through my feelings for you. I don’t think declaring something more than friendship will change things between us overnight, and I think all we need to do is keep being us.”

“Okay”, he responded timidly but surely.

He could’ve just stopped there, but I’d come to learn that’s never something to expect from him.

“I absolutely did jack off to you last night, though.”

I kicked him in the shin as we walked back to the castle, hand in hand.

End

✩ I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE ANY OF MY WRITING POSTED ON ANY EXTERNAL WEBSITES ✩

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mallowsweetmiri · 4 months ago

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Goodnight Kiss ~ Fred

Remus version

“C’mere,” Fred said, patting his thighs as he sat on the edge of the bed. You padded out from the bathroom in your towel before sitting down on his lap. He took you into his arms and began peppering your face and neck with kisses.

“Freddie,” you giggled, burying your face into his neck. He gave you one long kiss on your temple before swaddling you in his arms. He smelled like home.

“You want your pajamas?” He asked, playing with the back of your falling towel. You nodded. He gently set you on the bed and got up. He grabbed a tshirt from his drawer and handed it to you along with your underwear. He began to peel your towel off, kneeling down to kiss down your stomach. He took your panties and slipped them on before you pulled the tshirt over your head. Fred hummed as he fell onto the bed next to you. You scooted closer to him, tucking yourself against his broad chest. He wrapped his arms around you and buried in himself in your hair.

“Goodnight,” you whispered, your eyes heavy and resting with comfort. Fred pulled your chin up gently and placed a kiss on your lips before wrapping himself around you once more.

“Goodnight, my love.” 🤍

#Fred is my comfort character #hp goodnight kiss series #fred x reader #fred weasley headcanons #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #hp prompts #mallowsweetmiri

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sleepyremu · 1 year ago

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being the significant other of people on the quidditch team

summary // short little headcannons of what it would be like to be the s/o of golden trio era quidditch players

warnings // mentions of celebratory sex 😝 i can make a more nsfw version y’all like this 🤭

authors note // hi i’m gonna be active again!! i will def post a marauders era version of this too

golden era:

harry potter

harry likes inviting you to watch him practice while you do your homework, especially when it’s warmer out

he swears he does better at practice when you’re there

you love seeing his concentrated face when oliver is giving him pointers on maneuvering his broom in new ways to be faster when he spots the snitch

you love the crinkle in his nose that he has when he’s spotted the wings and is trying to figure out where it has gone next

he’s got to be so cute when he wins

like seeing you in the stands after he catches the snitch?? UGH!!!

i feel like he would have a little signal or motion or something he would do during a game when he sees you to let you know that he’s thinking of you

think like blowing a kiss or something of the sort

he would do it right before the whistle is blown and maybe even when he’d catch the snitch to let you know that he won for you

i don’t think he’d ever let you forget that he LOVES when you’re beaming at him from the stands, even when all of gryffindor is cheering for him, all he can think of is your smile and laugh

he would love celebratory one-on-one time. harry is NOT a super big partier after every single game, he’d rather spend quiet time with you in the common room just enjoying how you feel in his arms

the greatest prize for him is just time with the person he loves the most

i get this headcannon a lot with james, and i think harry has it too where he LOVES seeing you in his jersey 🫢

he’d find you so hot beautiful wearing his name plastered on his back

fred weasley

fred loves to make a total show out on the field for you

he winks at you every time he smacks a beater into that guy from slytherin who just won’t take the hint that you’re his girl

he loves impressing you on his broom, doing tricks and goofing off just to make you smile

this guy is the total opposite of harry when it comes to how he likes to spend time after winning

fred is the life of the party. he’s so hyper and excited when he wins and he loves to take it out on you

if he can catch your hand after gryffindor rushes out onto the field, he’ll whisper something about meeting him near the bathroom in 15 minutes

if we’re talking celebratory sex, fred weasley is the king

he relishes in winning and getting your kind reassurances that he did a good job and that you’re proud of him

“freddie, let me give you a proper celebration, hm?”

“say no more, darling.”

fred loves to celebrate not only with you, but with everyone in gryffindor

he is so cocky and full of himself but in the most charming and sexy way

he knows he deserves the attention

he would be dragging you to parties after games and making you take shots to celebrate his victory

“cmon, love, just one drink f’me? i did so well on the field for you, let me get my pretty girl all hot and bothered like i was lookin at her in the stands…”

george weasley

george has never really showed off during practice than when you happen to walk by the quidditch pitch when you first started dating

some feeling took over him when he saw you in your cute scarf and hands in your pockets, grinning at him with a scrunched nose

he just had an instinct to speed up and down the pitch, spinning on his broom towards you and hard stopping right next to you to peck you on the cheek

he didn’t have to look behind him as he went to join the rest of his team to know your cheeks had flushed and you had frozen in place

that was the first form of pda between you two and you knew he only did it because he just couldn’t help himself

he somehow always finds a way of twisting his own victory into celebrating you

he’d find a reason to buy YOU a gift because HE won his match

this sick twisted adorable little game of his always has you preemptively trying to avoid getting presents from him

“george, why are you buying ME a necklace when YOU won your match?”

“just think of it as my reward for doing such a good job, hm? i get to see my princess wearing jewelry a winner got for her. just makes me wanna keep making her proud.”

george is a happy mix of celebrating with just you and with the entire house of gyffindor

he can get behind a massive function after a well deserved win (aka any time gyffindor beats slytherin)

unlike fred, he doesn’t have all that energy built up needing to be released right after a game

he lets his victory deep into him all the way before he celebrates with sex

he’s so sweet and intimate normally, but some sort of switch turns on when he is successful in a match

he takes his time basking in a victory, and slow and loving sex turns him on so much

draco malfoy

he’s very nonchalant when you pass by him during practice, he knows he doesn’t need to impress you and boy does he have fun being a cocky son of a bitch about it

“darling, i could do tricks for you on the pitch, but you know i don’t need to do anything except look at you to get your heart all funny.”

he likes that you give him his space when he plays because he lets you in on every other part of his life, and he appreciates that you understand he likes having something that is reserved just for him

draco is a very possessive boyfriend (it’s not new information, i know)

he thinks it’s so hot when you wear his jersey to his game

you’d surprise him in his dorm, just the two of you, before he heads to his game, wearing his name on your back and smiling and he’d just freeze

you would get scared for a moment, thinking you did something wrong and that it was too much too soon

but that fear would dissipate in a few seconds as he cracked a stupid grin and peppered kisses all over your face and neck, telling you how good you looked

he’ll pull you into his arms after his game when everyone is on the pitch and says lowly in your ear

“merlin, you have no idea what you’re in for when none of these people are watching us. you were such a distraction, baby.”

draco isn’t a very clingy person, and typically he’s not very grandiose about your relationship

so when slytherin is partying after a victory, he’s not all over you the whole night

he’ll let you talk to your friends and you let him celebrate with his team

but he never loses his manners

i bet his mama taught him that

he’ll come up to you offering to refill your drink, asking if you need anything, firmly holding your hips to his when he talks to you and promising he’ll check up on you in 20 minutes before he gives you a departing squeeze to your hand

he knows the two of you had your fun right after the game in the locker room and will probably mess around a little more after the party to celebrate his win

oliver wood

quidditch is life for him. you know how important the sport is and you respect how seriously he takes it

it doesn’t go unnoticed whatsoever

he can see you trying your best to keep up with his rants and intently listening to his words, even if you weren’t quite sure what all of them meant

he never gave up the chance to rant to you about a recent match he watched or an idea for a new play

he appreciated that you attempted to absorb his words, and just knowing that you were happy to sit and listen to him talk for ages sent a sweet tightening feeling to his chest

oliver would be the type to try and teach you how to ride a broom and tell you that you were amazing at flying even if it was terribly obvious you and a broomstick was a disaster waiting to happen

“you’re a natural, y/n!”

“oliver, i love you, but please don’t lie like that to my face.”

“but you look so adorable after you’ve fallen into the mud- ow! don’t pinch me! this is my scoring arm.”

oliver shamelessly invited you to come to every single practice he held so you could see him in his element

he always had the cheekiest grin on his face when he won, and it kept with him when he met back up with you

he had the most incredibly stupid little victory dance and you thought it was so cute

once, for christmas, you bought him golden snitch boxers you thought were so funny that you could have sworn he’d thrown away

he genuinely wore them because they were from you (and also they were surprisingly soft and stretchy)

you knew he actually wore them because on laundry days, you would see them pretty frequently in the freshly done basket of laundry

“y/n, they’re my lucky underwear.”

oh come on guys how could we deny that oliver wood loves to be called “captain” after he wins a match?

he’d like taking you semi-publicly, like in the locker room, and you calling him “captain” or “sir” just stirred something in him that made him even more fiery than he usually was after winning a game

#harry potter #harry potter series #hp fandom #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #fred weasley #george weasley #fred weasley x reader #george wealsey x reader #draco malfoy #draco x reader #oliver wood #quidditch #golden trio era

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wandsandwheezes · 5 months ago

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NASCAR IV | G.W //F.W

WARNINGS // 8.6k // SMUT 18+, George x Reader // Fred x unnamed OC, Angry Fred, Racer!George, light angst, fighting, rough sex, soft sex, breeding kink af, mentions of alcohol, cars, sex, possession, praise kink, a (tiny) amount of degradation, oral, unprotected sex.

A/N // Ladies n gents we are back n better than everrr!! This has legit been sat in the WIPs for a year and I have not had the energy or motivation to get back to it until now. ps.. thank you to @darthwheezely for helping me out on this one as my co-writer, idk what i'd do without you!! pps.. stay tuned for more works in the future!

It was always good to be home. As much as George adored being on the road, there was something so blissful about waking up in his own bed, with the woman of his dreams curled tightly into his chest. This was what made it worth it.

“Good morning, muffin,” you muttered peacefully, hand reaching up to push the messy tufts of hair from his sleepy eyes. He threw his head back and groaned at your use of the corny nickname so early in the morning.

“That divorce and sweet sweet alimony cannot come soon enough,” he grinned, soon getting whacked in the face by the pillow next to you, his own hand reaching to pull you by the scruff of your neck into a sloppy kiss.

Like most mornings, George was already out of bed, walking around aimlessly in his low-slung plaid pj bottoms as he searched sleepily for either his shop uniform or at the very least something that would easily pass without Fred throwing a fit.

“Are you sure you want to leave me?” You teased, pushing yourself out of bed, letting his t-shirt fall past your hips as your feet patted along the wood floors, taking you to him. You wrap your arms around his waist groggily, forehead resting against his back as you take in his warmth.

“I’m never sure about leaving you, angel, I doubt you’ll take much convincing if I suggest lunch?”

“I’ll make your favourite sandwich and swing by later, yeah?” You smiled, giggling as he spun you around, strong hands holding your arms as he leaned down to kiss you.

“They say you’re the lucky one, but lord, woman you make me the luckiest.”

The sun was not Fred’s friend today. But honestly: no one was Fred’s friend today, not when the sun was over a hundred and two degrees in a shop with shitty A/C with his wife away playing hostess for god knows how many interviewees in that pretty black dress.

He probably wouldn’t even be this angry if she hadn’t been an insufferable prime American tease, waking up to her lips wrapped around the base of his cock and sending delicious vibrations throughout his body before pulling off right as he was about to release:

“You’ve got work today, ace, I need you to be a good boy.”

So there was Fred, as horny as a fourteen year old, deprived as a fourteen year old, and about as pouty as a toddler. Even George knew how pissy his brother had been, eyeing him rather sharply.

“You know, Freddie, It would be nice to come into work one day with you having not woken up on the wrong side of bed.” George chuckled, pulling up the bottom of his already oil-stained shirt to wipe at his jaw. The older twin stalked around him and hit him in the chest with his rag.

“Actually, I was sleeping quite well on my lovely and rosy smelling side of the bed until I got fucking booted like a small boy and-” he was briefly aware of George laughing at him and made to punch his younger brother over the hood. “- it’s not funny, you know...it’s…” he swallowed, the familiar feeling of his strawberry tint rising to the surface, “...ithasn’tbeenasrecentasyou and before you ask me how I know that, remember you’re the other half of my DNA in mum’s womb,” he childishly spat. He slid into the driver’s seat of the Mustang they were working on and began drumming the dash, his knee bouncing against the side door - a tell tale sign of his frustration.

“I thought we established that you are in fact half of my DNA, just because you were born first doesn’t mean shit.” George rolled his eyes, throwing the rag on top of the car before joining his brother in the passenger seat.

“No, because I, in fact, am the prettier twin, which means I not only had sex first, but also get more privileges such as Denny’s coupons, discounted smoothies, and more phone calls with my mother than you.” Spotting you walk into the workshop area he honked the horn a couple times and giggled, whistling when you walked in.

“Ahoy my lovely sister-in-law!” He grinned and honked once more, a loud and obnoxious greeting - so uniquely Fred.

Rolling up to the side of the car, you laughed, seeing George rub at his temples, sighing to himself over the continuous blaring horn. You leaned in against the window, poking your head into the car with a smile, pressing a kiss to George’s cheek while Fred’s smile dropped, his face forming into a stare of jealousy, quickly forcing a smile again to hide his obvious frustrations.

“Oi! Get a bloody room you two!” He huffed, honking loudly when George leaned in to kiss you again.

“Do you mind?” George gritted out.

“Yes, a bit, actually, you may have the back office for now to do somewhat lovey and sinful things but please try to be discreet, kids!” He winked salaciously and leaned forward against the wheel, his elbow cocked on the dash as he fought to not think about destroying his wife to be the second she got home. Usually racing helped, kept his mind (and libido) wandering if he felt a bit pent up - but at least for a few months or so, there wouldn’t be any release. The thought alone had him throw his head back and groan in displeasure.

“I brought lunch, wanna eat with me?” You grinned, batting your eyelashes, a move that practically had George falling out of the car, grabbing your hand as he followed you out to the back office. It was definitely hotter in the back, if you were being honest, yet that had nothing to do with the blazing sunshine but the way your fiance could have practically drank you in whole by the way he was staring.

“Stop staring, George, your eyes will go square.” You laughed, setting your bag on the table, pulling out the sandwich you had made for him, pushing it into his chest as you pulled out your own lunch.

“You know that doesn’t work with staring at humans right? Just TVs.” George retorted, walking backwards before plopping himself down on the sofa. “You didn’t happen to bring my-” You had already reached into your bag, pulling out his water bottle, something he not only had a habit of leaving at home but something he nearly always drank with lunch. Props to him for staying hydrated but after so long together you had managed to pick up on nearly all of the smaller things about him.

“What would I do without you, huh?” He smiled, taking the bottle from your hand as you slipped onto the sofa next to him, legs swinging over his thighs as you unwrapped your sandwich. This was normal for you, reminding you of the days before racing and before America, a part of you growing fond of those memories.

“You seem lost, Angel.” He muttered, hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, a worried look painting his expression. Shaking your head at him, you pulled yourself up to be straddling his hips, your nose bumping against his softly before capturing his lips into a kiss.

A part of both of you needed this, the locked lips while his hands held your hips in their place, effortlessly controlling the way they would rut against his growing bulge, both desperate for the friction. He was moaning into your mouth, his hips bucking up to meet yours as the innocence in the kiss quickly slipped away, his own desperation to have you ruling how his hands had practically ripped your shirt off of you, his lips messily pressed against the newly exposed skin of your chest.

“Shit, baby, I just wanna get those tight little fucking shorts off of you.” He groaned, hand snaking up to tangle in the hair at the back of your head as your hips continued grinding relentlessly. You were ultimately putty in his hands, moldable and pliant only for his skilled grip and teasing touch.

“No time for that though.” He chuckled, his quick fingers effortlessly slipping the material to the side before the pad of his thumb found your clit, rubbing in teasing circular motion, a loud and lewd groan falling from his lips at the feel of just how wet you were already. Your hand flew to his mouth, finger pressed against his plump lips to keep him silent.

“Not so much noise, Georgie.” You giggled, a faint moan falling from your lips as his fingers began to tease your entrance. Your own warnings of silence had fallen short the second you found yourself wrapped around his fingers, his long digits pulling desperate moans from you by the second.

“Not so much noise, angel.”

—

The elder twin had watched his brother follow you out, had seen the way his twin’s eyes had smoothed over the curve of your ass, how he’d admired your shorts and in utter and complete disdain Fred kicked the inside of the car. It was dumb, the way he was wishing he could have his girl thrown in front of a bathroom counter and force her to watch him fuck that pretty pretty cunt of his, and unknowingly slid his hand down to his jeans and started to palm.

His jaw was clenched at the thought of her slutty little stunt she pulled this morning when they both knew how wet she would get when she had her mouth around him, and gritted in a groan as he squeezed his clothed erection.

“God, fuck, love,” he panted, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans half way to slide his boxers down, his cock springing free instantly. He thought about how her cunt fit perfectly to his cock, how no matter how many times he’d slipped deliciously into her, she always seemed just as tight as the first time, meanwhile his hand loosely pumped back and forth on his shaft. This was pathetic, he knew it was pathetic, but still the idea of her underneath him while her breasts heaved and her smokey chocolate hair was strewn about the pillow had him grunting.

“God, I’m so surprised you’re not pregnant yet, with the amount of cum I stuff you with and the rounds we do in a day,” he growled, all eleven inches sunk deep into her.

“Oh, shit, baby, god, you feel so good,” he panted, his thumb tightly rolling small circles on his tip.

“Want it so bad, baby, wanna be so full and round soon as we can,” she had moaned, arching so far into his hold that he had thrusted at the same time a nipple brushed his lips and into his mouth, biting the sensitive flesh and causing her to whine.

“Such a fucking whore,” he snarled, his hips bucking up to meet each stroke of his fist, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he imagined his palm to be nothing but her - no, his - soft and soaked pussy.

His hips were jerking at the speed of sound, he didn’t really care if anyone else could hear, if anything it made him more turned on, let ‘em hear, he could give less of a shit and especially if she were here, he’d make damn sure everyone from Houston to L.A. knew exactly which racer she was getting boned by each and every night.

“Freddie, honey, please, I need you to so bad,”

“I’m right behind you, baby, goddamnit so fucking good,” and with a faint shout of her name he released, his dick twitching under his own rough touch, his eyes screwed shut at his own frustration, none of it was real, the memory of it and the smell of sweaty sex in not only hotel rooms but in cars across the country dimming his mind back to square one. He laughed harshly at his own predicament, assessing his own situation before whistling lowly.

“Fuck, I need a drive.”

—

“George, for the love of God, stop fuckin’ with the carburetor, we already checked it an hour ago,” Fred whined, leaning against the back of the car. The day had been relatively slow beyond that one car, the hour approaching about 4:30, Fred eagerly awaiting until those hands hit 6.

“We did? I could have sworn we didn’t but I wouldn’t know, would I?” George rolled his eyes, pushing himself away from under the hood, heading over to you to take the tool you aimlessly held from your hands, not before his hands pressed against your neck, pulling you into a quick kiss.

Fred went to retort, interrupted only by the grizzly rotary of the engine rev close by. He knew exactly what the sound was, the same kind of rev that ecologists blamed on the hole in the ozone, the smell lewd and hungry for attention.

It wasn’t just any old car, it had to be for racing. And sure enough it was, two in fact, fully souped up in high gear and brand new paint blinding in the Arizona sun. Fred held a hand above his eyebrows to see who it was, and George leaned back around Fred trying to do the same thing. When the cars pulled up and swerved albeit messily into the lot the twins broke into grins.

“Is that-?”

“-yeah, it’s-”

And then the car doors opened, one man rather lanky and lean and the other shorter and stocky, the rather lean one putting both his hands on his hips and clucking: “Well, I’ll be damned, freshen up then lads,” and grinned mischievously.

“DEAN!”

“SEAMUS!” They both yelled and jumped at their friends, a chorus of rowdy hugs and how are yous being traded from each of the boys.

“Alright then, boys?” Seamus quipped.

“Well, Jesus, we sure hope so, haven’t seen you since, shit what March?” George ran a hand through his hair, looking at Fred to confirm that and he nodded in response.

“Sounds about right, we’ve had to keep to ourselves - don’t want a bust like what happened to Diggory, y’know,” Seamus smirked.

“That arsehole from - shit what was his sponsor, Georgie?”

“Wonderbread,”

“Yeah, I never liked him, hits on everything that moves he does, my girl included,” Fred made his way to their mini-fridge swinging out a couple of bottled cane-sugar Coke (the only kind he and his wife ever drank, unfortunately for their bank account), and distributing them to each of the boys, passing around the bottle opener.

Dean scoffed. “Fred, you think everyone flirts with your girl and Y/N.”

“I’m a protective man, Thomas, not my fault I see a douche bag and-”

“Anyway,” George cut him off, leaving a rather pouty Fred in his place, and leaning back to sit on the hood of the car. “What brings you two ‘round then?”

Seamus and Dean visibly held their bottles a little tighter, then looked at each other.

“Well, we um...we have this thing we do on Thursdays down behind Tucson-” Seamus started.

“-not the raceway...it’s a bit more shifty, if you get it.” Dean finished, taking a swig of Coke. George studied the two for a second and finally leaned back on the car hood.

“Boys, what is this?” He asked softly, Fred shifting uncomfortably on the minifridge.

Seamus opened his mouth again, his face a great shade of crimson when Dean leapt in again.

“We do it in secret because if Indy or Nascar found out we’d all be dead but...we never really stopped racing you know. We just...we do it in the backwoods area of town-”

“Where it’s basically just sand and flat land for miles,” Seamus added, nodding vehemently.

“Count me in.” Fred spoke quickly, pushing himself up off the mini fridge and over to the two boys, a smirk hanging off his lips in anticipation of being able to put his foot to the floor again on a track, albeit a dirt-road track, it was a course nevertheless.

“Yeah, no, Fred you can’t, if the Wood Brothers find out you are never racing again.” George cut in, fingers pressed to his temple in fear of his brother’s own recklessness.

“Come on, baby brother, I think you need to loosen up a little, what do you think, y/n?” Fred’s smirk only grew as he raised his eyebrow, hoping to entice the younger twin into his lure.

“You know, Georgie, I think it would be good for you and Fred to race together, you know, just for fun...” You shrugged, staking over to George, arms wrapping around his waist, as you looked up at him with a pout.

“I suppose if those two big brains can still have jobs, we’ll be fine, right?” George sighed, feeling himself giving in, purely from a look from his girlfriend.

“That’s the spirit!” Dean smirked, a smile cracking up on Seamus’ lips as the four boys looked among each other, almost silently communicating a plan until they had erupted with laughter.

—

The clock had said 9:34, roughly 26 minutes before Fred would be ecstatically waiting for George outside his studio apartment. His neck was tilted upwards, covered in shaving cream with a bath towel wrapped loosely around his waist. The sink was littered with expensive cologne and aftershave, the first purchase he ever made after his first check at the shop, his scalpel grifting smoothly up his jawline.

Fred had learned very early on that preparation was absolutely everything, and after his little twelfth place charade - he felt his mates needed to remember that he was, for all intents and purposes, that bitch.

“Fred, baby, you home?” He heard her call out, the clanging of keys falling into the empty fishbowl on the coffee table.

“Yeah, cupcake, I’m in here,” he called out stiffly, listening to her start to rant on about the interviews at hand - none of them were ever any fun, he’d been to enough to learn that all they cared about were raunchy questions geared at his wife and female reporters flirting with him in front of studio audiences.

“...and god my feet were killing me, she wanted to walk with me all the way down the block and-“ she stopped analyzing his posture, his broad and freckled back still slightly covered in drops from the shower, his V-line angled to the side to a point where if she tugged on his hips juuuust right it would be sure to drop in one fell swoop, combined with the fact that he was shaving.

“Honey?”

“Yes, dear?” He side eyed her and smirked before turning his eyes back to the mirror, finishing the last of the area around his upper jaw and by his cheekbones.

“Are you going somewhere tonight?” She questioned, standing next to him now, looking at him directly through the mirror. He licked his lips at the sight of her minorly aggressive position and broke contact.

“Just for a bit, love, I’ll be back probably when you’re asleep.”

“And were you planning on telling me?”

“And were you planning on being a tease this morning after I gave you such a lovely time last night?”

He watched her mouth open and close as if she were about to say something and faltered, and snorted. “Yes, exactly, I thought so,” he said, turning around to grab a hand towel, splashing water on his face to rinse off the cream.

“Oh...I see what this is,” she purred. He stopped and slowly pulled his face up to the sink, setting a hand down on the sink to ground him from the massive hard on that was occurring under his towel, and turning towards her.

“What was that?”

“I think you’re a pent up, horny teenager that doesn’t like being told no,” she smiled cruelly at him and watched as Fred’s jaw tensed ever so slightly.

He rolled it gently and went to move past her but she was quicker, and pushed him backward with five painted red nails to his chest. She looked up at him and roughly scratched down his torso, causing Fred to hiss at the fresh red stripes. She slid a hand up his chest and stopped at the column of his throat, gripping ever so slightly, before leaning up to kiss him and pulling away just so he could feel her exhale.

“Have a nice night, Freddie,” she whispered before quirking a brow and grinning, prancing off to their bedroom alone.

When she was out of earshot he shakily breathed out, trying to steady his breathing and his yearning cock - he’d deal with her later for sure, regardless of his behavior or not.

It was 9:32, approximately 28 minutes before George would pick him up outside his studio apartment…

—

The twins arrived at around 10:15, the drive there filled with only uncomfortable silence at what was to come. George was a bit pissed to say the least, once again Fred was getting his way for an adrenaline run, and this time Y/N had backed him up.

George’s last place he would be right now is behind the wheel of his own fucking car.

He parked it next to Dean’s sleek, jet black chevy, his hands gripping the steering wheel ever so slightly as he leaned back against the headrest.

“You realize if we get caught we could never race again, right?” George prompted quietly.

“Here’s an idea; don’t.” Fred rolled his eyes, reaching over to flick his brother in the ear, eyebrows raised playfully.

“Yeah, no shit, sherlock.” George grumbled, turning off the ignition, listening to the signature growl of his engine grind to a stop.

“Why is it always such a bad idea to do anything fun once in a while, Georgie,” Fred grumbled, his knee bouncing against the floor of the car. “It’s not like we’ve had anything to do as of late, you know.”

“Of course, besides, hmm, I dunno, not making our sponsors upset? By like possibly following the very slight and basic set of rules we’ve been given?” George snipped, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. He sighed to himself and went to get out of the car when Fred grabbed his arm.

“Hey, you agreed to this too, you know-”

“Yes, at the behest of my lovely fiance and my snot nosed, ant thorax of a barely older brother and as such, I’m driving this thing when this shit factory of a drag race starts.” He whacked Fred’s arm away and exited the car, immediately all but smiles on his face as he went to greet his friends, a sporadic and adrenaline heated Fred on his tail.

“Well if it isn’t the two most obnoxious bastards in NASCAR,” Fred turned to see his best friend and ex-pit crew member, Roger Davies, and excitedly gripped him in a hug, hands clapping backs and tears falling down cheeks at the renewal of friendship.

“Georgie! Look, it's Rog!”

“Holy shit, not my first husband-!”

“Your only husband, Weasley number 5, and Fred can disagree all he wants,” Roger grinned and pulled both boys into a hug before whispering in their ear, “watch out for Finnegan and Thomas, boys, the cheating hasn’t stopped since last season,” leaving the twins utterly confused.

“Oi! Not another sleepover without me?” Boomed Dean from behind them. Roger immediately pushed past the two entirely confused twins and went to clap Dean on the back.

“Just getting them acquainted with the rules before a race...you know how hard it is to follow all the rules, don’t you, mate?” Roger winked and headed back to the twins, moving them back to the car as all the other drivers retreated to theirs.

“Rog, what was all that?” Fred whispered.

“Dean has been known to be a bit...well, shifty as of late with these. Always been a bit of a windy bloke, you get it, but ever since Target dropped him from the sponsorship he hasn’t really been...getting off as much in racing as he used to.” Roger nervously laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, leaning against the back of George’s car.

“By ‘cheating’ what does that entail?” George crossed his arms in repose.

“He’s always been a thrill chaser, you know this, Georgie.”

That was true, Dean had always been after a nice high. An adrenaline junkie back at primary school, Dean and Fred (as George unfortunately remembered) would feed off each other like invasive flowers, the group think of two singularly aggressive and needy young boys clouding the canopy of their friends (and brothers) with misfortune. Anything from groundings to almost arrests to nights spent aimlessly wandering the London streets in the wee hours of the morning - to Dean’s favorite: bets.

Dean would bet and bet and bet if his life depended on it and when it came to racing, if there was a bet out in his name to win, he was sure as shit going to make sure that he was the winner, this led to more and more alterations to his cars, some that even street racing frowned upon. The media never got their hands on the true reason Dean had lost his Target sponsorship; just one simple, illegal, engine part. One that gave him the lead in a race that caught him out.

“How hasn’t someone banned him then?” George laughed, looking over at his friends, only for Roger to clear his throat with a chuckle himself.

“You can’t ban someone from street racing, Georgie, not without the authority that NASCAR has.” Roger explained, pushing away from George’s car to head towards his own. “See you on the track, boys.”

“Track?” Fred choked over the words, confused thoroughly at this point.

“I don’t think we’re in for just a drag race, Freddie.” George gulped, watching Roger slip inside his car, the lights flashing on and the sounds of rumbling engines echoing through the air.

—

“What do you mean I can’t drive your car.” Fred practically whined, if his eyes rolled any harder they would be in the back of his head.

“I mean what I said, dumbass, you’re not driving my car.” George protested, his arms crossing over his chest as he stood protectively in front of the driver’s side door.

“But you’d let me drive it in a drag race, that doesn’t make any sense, like at all.”

“That was when you had to drive in a straight line, you are not putting my baby in danger just to race her round a track.”

“Your baby? George, you do realise I race too right?”

“Fuck off. You’re not driving, that’s final.”

“Yes the fuck I am, now move.” Fred was practically pushing his brother out of the way as he tried to get himself in the driver’s seat. “Twenty minutes ago you didn’t even want to be here, now you want to drive?”

“Fine.” George sighed, finally stepping aside, only to grab the back of Fred’s shirt. “One scratch and you’ll be fixing it, either that or I’ll break you.”

“I’m not gonna crash the car, George, now get in.” Fred slid inside the car, George following suit on the passenger side. Fred went to pull out of the space that George had parked the car in, only to stall, dropping the clutch out of excitement, causing his younger brother to yell, out loud and quickly.

“Nope! I’m not doing this.”

“Fucking hell, George, shut up I can drive.”

—

There was something about the way tires kicked dust up as they sped around the dirt track that had Fred on edge. This race was unlike anything he’d ever seen or been a part of before, if he was being brutally honest it was exhilarating to be doing something like this, much more so when his brother was sat in the passenger seat. He didn’t need to look over or even take his eyes off the road to know that George was already being hypercritical of Fred’s driving skills, especially when the livelihood of his pride and joy of a car lay in another’s hands.

If George were gripping the steering wheel in that moment, his knuckles would have been well and truly white, watching clouds upon clouds of dust spray over the freshly washed exterior of his car. Instead, George’s hand was dripped tightly on the door, bracing himself for the sharp corners and bumpy jolts, thinking about how all the up and down was surely going to fuck his suspension.

Fred laughed to himself, but mostly at the way his twin was acting, almost as if George hadn’t spent most of his adult life behind the wheel of a car driving faster than any other man would dream of. Fred shouted over the roar of the engine “Jesus, Georgie, let loose a little will you?”

“I’d be way less uptight if you would have just let me drive.” George replied, sighing to himself, a small ‘woah’ falling from his mouth at the feeling of the back wheels spinning.

“It’s a bit fucking late for that decision.” Fred laughed back, passing a car that had the unfortunate and untimely end of spinning themselves off the joke of a track. Once the dust parted and George saw the mess in front of him, his eyes widened, heart racing if it could have beaten any faster.

“I will kill you if you do that.” the younger man grumbled, watching Fred speed past car after car, pushing them up the ranks.

“I told you I won’t crash your precious car… I’m starting to think you love her more than your lovely lady.” Fred bit his lower lip to stop himself laughing at his own comment. Looking up in the rear view mirror, he spotted the glistening black and bright blue of Roger and Dean gaining on the lead the twins had.

It was nearing what Fred hoped to be the end of the track, watching as the finish line grew nearer with every second. In what seemed to be all at once, a loud revving came in from Fred’s Left, The lightning bolt blue car overtaking George’ in a matter of seconds, pushing right past the finish line without a care in the world. Following closely in second was Dean’s beauty of a car, Fred managing to keep right behind his two friends, pulling third rank in the race.

—

Fred was the first out of the car, slamming the door behind him as his rage was starting to bubble out from his lungs. George hurried to catch up with his older brother, the look in his eyes and his body language evident that nothing short of violent impulsivity would amount from the situation. Fred pushed past Roger, ignoring the pleas for peace, he was never mad at Rog, Rog deserved a top rank, but his anger was centered towards Dean.

Dean needed a nice loss.

“Oi, Thomas.” He got closer to the man, Dean turning around slowly, a haughty sense of pride glazed on his face. “What’s wrong, Freddie, I’d figured after your little twelfth place at the table third should be a nice welcome to you,” he drawled, before Fred lunged at him, getting held back only by Davies.

“Aw, does poor little Freddie still need a babysitter?”

“Open that mouth one more fucking time-”

“Fred-” Roger stuttered.

“No,” he pushed from his grasp and proceeded to get inches from Dean’s face

Dean smirked and leaned back to grab a beer from the cooler beside him. “Fred. Your little tough guy act doesn’t scare me anymore, you know that.”

George stepped up next to Fred, “It’s not an act, mate, I think you know us well enough by now to get that we don’t take kindly to cheaters,” he said softly, rising to his full height.

Dean immediately leaned back at the sight of the two gingers, and even going as far as shrinking at the pure sight of Roger Davies, not as tall but definitely as intimidating, standing between them.

“The track never did cater to a liar, Thomas, we figured you’d know that by now,” Roger added quietly.

Dean scoffed, the adrenaline clearly rising in his chest, as the men behind him started to eye each other, the violence of the situation reaching a silent all time high. “I’m not gonna take shit from a losing tosser, his stooge of a younger brother, and a dumb blonde-“

Fred had launched himself all the way forward, his index and thumb forming a U shape as he grabbed Dean’s face, slamming it directly into the window. Dean struggled in Fred’s grasp, lifeless and sloppy fists flying in every direction possible. When Fred finally pulled off the boy and began to walk off, a smug and bloody smirk gracing his haughty face, Seamus lunged forward, a punch matching the back of Fred’s head.

A full on fight occurred, George rushing forward to slam Seamus to the ground, dust flying in every which way under the artificial lights. Fred had taken to pummeling Dean as if he was losing himself entirely in aggression.

The twins had always had an aggressive streak - but it had rarely been released in their current younger years of “adulthood.”

Amongst the mess of brawling fists and kicked up dirt, Roger had managed to summon the presence of one of the two Weasley girls - you, the understanding quick thinker with a tendency to be for whatever your boyfriend did and Fred’s Wife, the american firecracker who rarely took no for an answer.. When you had arrived, Rog and George were stopping Fred from lurching at Dean once more, Instead you were focused on the graze that lay above George’s brow, taking a deep breath and shaking your head at just how reckless he had become.

“George Weasley, I swear to fucking god you bastard.” You shouted, pulling him up by his bicep and pushing him back against his dust-covered car. “One night I leave you, One night and you end up in a back street race nearly getting your ass handed to you by Dean fucking Thomas-”

“It was Seamus, actually-”

“Not the fucking point, George.” you slapped his chest, only for him to wrap his arms around your waist, keeping you pulled close, a small smirk hanging off his lips.

“Fred said I needed to let loose, and I did and it was the best fun I’ve had since the end of season… but that obviously isn’t what I should be saying… I’m sorry, really am.”

You rolled your eyes, a sigh falling from your lips as you rested your head on his chest, with all the stress that NASCAR had given him, it really was the best thing that he was getting some actual joy in his free time. “At least you had fun.”

You knew you couldn’t be mad at him for long, not with the puppy dog eyes he was giving you as he knelt down on the floor, elbows resting on the mattress to look at you. Part of him realised that he needed to not piss you off any more than he already had, after all it was a little more than what you were expecting from him and with so much on the line after all of his hard work you were more mad at the fact he would so easily chance it.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” He quipped, a small smile on his lips as he stretched his back out, leaning forward across the mattress, fingertips grazing over your knee.

“You know what you’re doing.” You sighed, trying to look away from him, only to feel his full firm grip squeeze at your thigh.

“I’m just trying to apologize to you.”

“Yeah right.”

“I know how much you gave up to be here with me, for us, for me to achieve my dreams and I only went and nearly threw it away for a cheap race and I’m sorry.”

His eyes were glassy, filled with a sadness that you only recognised from the day he left for America, he truly was sorry for what had happened.

“I want to make it up to you, princess.” He pushed himself up onto the bed, his head resting on the pillow, your eyes never leaving him as you watch him shift to get comfortable.

Your hand reached out to brush the hair out of his eyes, watching his eyes flutter closed as a small sigh fell from his lips. You were quick to shift so that you lay next to him.

“There’s nothing to make up for, Georgie.” You smiled softly, shifting slightly closer to him, feeling his hand drape lazily over your side. Something about seeing him so vulnerable made you want to protect him with your whole heart and yet he was always the one to protect you.

“There’s everything to make up for, my love.” He smirked, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours softly before pressing a small kiss to your lips. “Just let me make you feel good.”

“George you don’t–” You went to protest, but he was quick to cut you off with another kiss, this time his hand gently pulling your hips closer towards him.

“I know just the way to make things up to you.” He pushed himself up slowly, arm wrapping around you to lay you down on your back, finding his place between your thighs, your legs either side of his hips.

His hands slowly raked up your thighs, finding his way up to your hips, fingers hooking underneath the waistband to pull the material down your legs, leaving you bare from the waist down. You had almost forgotten how much of a tease George could be, the way his fingers had quickly found your clit, the long digits finding your entrance soon after, only to warm you up.

Positioning himself with your legs hooked over his shoulders, he drew in a breath, releasing the cool exhale over you as you sighed frustratedly, hips bucking to try and get some friction if any, only for his hand to push your hips back down, a chuckle falling from his lips.

The second his tongue was licking a prominent stripe along your aching pussy, you were well and truly putty in his hands. Each flick of his tongue had you squirming, unrestrained moans falling from your lips as the pleasure built.

It didn’t take him long to attach his lips to your clit, sucking relentlessly at the bundle of nerves, his fingers pushing knuckle deep into you, curling up to hit your favourite spot, having you a wordless mess of nothing but moans of his name.

“Such a pretty thing you are, baby.” He hummed, thumb coming up to circle over your clit as he watched the way you had thrown your head back, your hands finding his hair to pull him back down needily, earning a chuckle from him.

His tongue continued its work, pulling you closer and closer to release with every flick. He didn’t let up until your thighs were shaking and your chest heaving, mind clouded only with thoughts of him and how lucky you were.

—--

Fred Weasley got home all too late, the door closing a bit louder than the man had wanted behind him. The slightly elder Weasley crept from the doorway to the bedroom, careful to mind the light creaks in the hardwood floor, taking every ounce of stress on his feet to avoid any miscalculations.

When he got to the bedroom, he saw the woman he loved, asleep no doubt by the sight of her mussed hair and lightly agape expression on her lips. Fred exhaled slowly, what he thought was quietly, until he heard her voice clearly say:

“So where were you?”

The man before her felt his heart thump harder than he felt when his own mother would corner him in the kitchen, the memories of sneaking out and sneaking back only to return with a-

“So are you going to tell me where you were?”

“Out.”

“No, really?” She spat, sitting back up and clicking the lamp on, her face etched with rage.

“I waited up for you the entire night, the least I probably deserve is an explanation.”

“Well, love, you didn’t seem to want to talk to me earlier, so I guess the lack of communication goes both ways, now move over.” he said briskly, beginning to take off his shirt. When she didn’t move, her face unwavering in anger, he rolled his jaw, swallowing back and refusing to feel the light effervescence of guilt in his throat.

“I said m-”

“I’m aware. See, Fred,” his wife exited the bed, and unfortunately for him, she was clad in only the black satin nightie he had gotten for her after his first big win. The guilt was rising now, as was something else low on his hips.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry, okay? I am, I-”

“Interrupt me again, and you get the couch, got it?” He nodded, his eyes drawn to the tears welling up in hers. “Fred, I’m your wife now and-and knowing my husband, my husband was out doing god knows what or who for that matter and has the audacity to come back in at three in the morning and be pissed at me? Who the hell are you?”

“I was racing! I was racing alright, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry I-I came in late and made you pissed because I love you and I am never going to do this again but God can you please put something else on so I can focus correctly-” and then he was kissing her, and somewhere deep in his cerebral cortex, this was probably unbearably toxic, for him to start apologizing angrily for the shit that he put her through but-

“God, you are a piece of fucking work aren’t you?” She snarled, already beginning to unbuckle and unzip his pants.

“But ‘m your piece of work, and currently,” he spat back, mouth melding in a messy and unkempt addition to hers, the entire situation wholly and completely Fred in every way possible, as he shed himself of his shirt and picked her up, “-I’d like to be fucking you.”

It didn’t take him long to pitch her body on the bed, his wife scrunching delectably at his fiery hair and his own ropy and iron hands squeezing at the bottom of her bare thighs. It had been long, too long, and with the already latent tension from their little bathroom incident earlier in the day - there wouldn’t be any denying Fred nor his girl of a quick, ravenous fuck tonight.

“Missed you so much, baby,” she whined, yanking his head up to mold herself to him in a heated kiss, the man atop her not needing to be shown twice at her action. “Missed you more, had me fuckin’ twitching and creaming in a car earlier, you did,” he chuckled, arousal thick and evident in his tone.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” He rasped, his eyes scrunching close as one of her delightfully un-dainty and gently calloused hands palmed him over his boxers. “God, wanted you so bad, baby, wanted to just drop the towel and have you on the sink, then ‘n there.”

“You mean that?” She said shakily, as he kissed her one last time before sliding down her body, his lengthy digits trailing down above him.

“God, absolutely, and if I look under here I wonder if - oh look at that, ‘was right, wasn’t I?” Much to her disagreeing whine, he sat up on his heels, his damn near naked body covered in sweat, his myriad of constellations adorning his chest like only the finest stars in the night sky. He looked up at her, the face only him or his twin could make, rum eyes bright and full of mischief, but also something else more sinister as his fingers trailed up her thighs.

“Fred, please-”

“‘Got you, baby, don’t you worry about me,” he mused, lazily almost, while his fingers drifted higher up the apex of her thigh before-

“No.” She said simply.

“Shit, I’m sorry do you want me to stop-?”

“No.” Fred’s wife, almost too fast for him to register, threw her left thigh around his waist, gathering momentum from her other leg fast enough to get him on his back, effectively pressing her hand to the center of his chest before all he could say was:

“Didn’t know you could do that, love,” he drawled, a quirk of a brow and a little smile on his face.

“You didn’t know I could do a lot of things, Freddie.” She shot back, bringing her nails up and in to scratch at his bare chest, her hips rolling to his and rubbing his tip under his boxers so well he thought he was going to explode.

“You have any plans beyond making me cum in m’pants, dear?” He hummed, his hands reaching up and under her satin to cup and squeeze at her bare ass.

“I was planning on making you cum so hard your ears pop, actually.”

“Merlin, woman, get on with it then,” he groaned, her laugh bubbling in his ears like champagne as her nails abandoned their spot on his broad chest to the hills and valleys of his v-line, the light grazing and nimble touch causing a wanton moan to erupt from the back of his throat along with a small, “fuckin’ hell, petal.” He watched with rapt but seemingly pained eyes as she slowly - too slowly, for his personal taste - began to lift her hips and grind the tip of his erection, his palms getting more clammy as he waited with need for her to sink onto him - if she’d even give him that.

But all too soon, she stopped her rolling onto his cock, making him swear at the loss of contact. “Goddamnit, fuck me already.”

“Oh, Freddie,” she preened, moving a hand back to cover one of his own sliding it to her soaking cunt, “after how bad you’ve been today? And you think I’m gonna reward you? Baby…” she drawled, reaching down to squeeze his thick cock, the action alone making him grunt and his neck veins pulsate with life.

“‘Do anything y’want, anything,” he whined, desperately trying to fuck his hips up to meet her friction. He knew his wife would push him, push him to the absolute limit until his dick exploded and his throat gave out from how hard he’d be screaming, she’d done it before, but it was so late, and God, he needed to bury himself deep in the milk and honey of her sex before it was too late.

“Then you have to be a good boy, Freddie, remember?”

“I know, I know, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, ma’am,” he babbled, the pleasure and lack of stimulation running through his veins. “Please,” he whimpered, his voice small and pliant like rubber.

She cocked a brow at him, curling her shiny red nails around his chin and gently tilting him toward hers.

“Been so bad, baby boy, but I guess ‘m gonna have to give you a treat some time…you just look so delicious like this,'' she purred, moving her hands to the swell of his bulge, delighting in the whine that escaped his throat like the rush of water in a stream (or something a bit more sinful in its entirety.) Fred’s wife swiftly lifted his cock free from it’s confines, his hands coming immediately to steady at her hip bones and kneading greedy circles into the tough skeleton.

“Ready f’me, precious?”

“Fred, don’t be pretending you’re the one on top at present,”

“Good Lord, woman, stop the banter and rock already.” The two chuckled breathlessly at Fred’s words, his wife pressing an airy kiss to his red and puckered mouth before bringing her cunt to just barely graze his tip, a movement that had the ginger subjected to her ministrations roll his eyes back and murmur a throaty “fuck” against her lips.

“Baby, please-“

“I know, Freddie, my love ‘ve got you,” she whispered before finally sinking down onto him, both partners releasing hisses and throaty moans at the feeling of being one.

It took no time at all for the ginger beneath to bring his hands to her now bouncing ass, guiding her roughly to every ridge of his cock. She was sloppy, the ride of pushing Fred’s high further and further to the forefront of his system. Fred oh the other hand had started to spastically fuck up into her now, moaning out her name the more he listened to the sound of her wet cunt being slid up and down on his thick cock.

She was close, dangerously close, the feeling of his balls clapping against the bottom of her ass in time with her pants. Fred was in nirvana, the way the light graced the sides of her face making her look like the most fallen of angels when-

“Fred, I can’t, I, please”

“I know, bub, ‘m right there with you,” he coaxed, all too soft in contrast with the rampant fucking he was giving her, waiting until he could feel her about to soak his cock before flipping her over, almost too quickly throwing her legs around his waist and thrusting further than what he thought was possible. His hands gripped hers and somewhere in his mind he blacked out against the feeling of the black satin rubbing against his torso.

“Baby-“

“Fred-“

Fred relished the feeling of her collapsing around him, his back fully extended as he rolled softly and slowly into her to push them through their conjoined high. He loved this, he always had, how her body heaved gently under his and his hands and mouth could whisper sweet nothings into her skin, soothing her form and giving her all the love he could possibly muster.

“I am sorry you know, bub.” He finally said after a while, his hands rubbing back and forth on her thighs.

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his nose and then his lips, smiling lightly against his mouth as her eyes fluttered shut, “yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Just…don’t do it again okay-?” She whispered.

“Baby, you know I won’t. Scout’s honor ‘n all-“

“You didn’t let me finish, Weasley!”

“Well, then what’s the rest of it?”

She smiled at him before craning her lips to his ear: “next time you drag race, I better watch.”

She giggled when he threw the covers above their heads.

—

It was two days later, the sun blaring just as brightly as it had when Dean Thomas proposed a drag race, and now, as the front door bells jingled an entrance, the twins had done something they didn’t last time.

“We’re closed,” they both said flatly, not looking up from the respective cars.

“Even for me?” A familiar voice asked the boys, causing them both to raise their heads.

“Sirius!” They both squawked, the lanky men scrambling to their feet to hug their favorite agent, the older man hugging them back immediately.

“Why’ve you come from LA?”

“Yeah, is something wrong? I can guarantee you whatever it was it was 100% George’s fault-”

“Fred.”

“Sorry.”

Sirius released a small smile that had been tugging at his face the whole interaction. “Boys, I’ve got a bit of an announcement for you.”

“And what would that be?” George asked suspiciously. Fred looked out the corner of his eye at his twin, and all Sirius did was throw his hands out and up.

“Boys: we’re going to Monaco.”

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #fred and george #harry potter #george weasley fic #george and fred weasley #george weasley smut #weasley twins smut #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley x oc #fred weasley fic #weasley twins #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #nascar series #racing twins #george weasley headcanon

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sweetpandorabox · 2 years ago

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George Weasley as a Boyfriend 🧨🦁

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨sweetpandorabox୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎…⋙

Warnings ⚠️: Slight mentioned of sexual themes and some spicy stuff.

Dating this mischief-maker yet kinder and handsome twin could include:

👨🏻‍🦰👂🏻🧹

He's very affectionate but in the most caring way, unlike Fred who's more playful he learns how to style your hair for you (like braids and ponytails) by asking Ginny to teach him, instead of holding hands like most couples do, he offers you a piggyback ride everywhere so you don't have to walk. He gives you a playful noogie when you tease him, tucks your hair behind your ear so he can see your face better, randomly making out of nowhere because he really needs it, and of course some light pranks here and there to make you laugh.

He and you aren't allowed to sit together in any classes that the two of you share together, not because of PDA since he's usually more lowkey rubbing your thigh under the table, but because the both of you just cannot stop laughing around each other for no reason which distracts the whole class.

The both of you wear a matching bracelet that George made himself, you wear his initial in yours and he wears your initial in his, and the two of you made a promise to each other not to take it off ever or not lose it, all to show that the two of you belong together.

He's a really patient boyfriend, no matter how angry you are and taking it all out on him or how annoyed and upset he gets he's never once raised his voice at you or dumped all his frustration at you in any way. He's even the first one to apologize after every fight, even if he didn't start it.

He calls you cute nicknames like Babe, Gorgeous, Dream Girl, or Precious.

Likes when you call him Georgie, Darling, Stud, Freckles, or Dreamboat (you used to call him that teasingly before you guys started dating not knowing he was into you, and still uses it to this day).

His love language is probably quality time, just like Fred he values his memories with you and loves making new ones all the time because those are truly precious over other things.

Anytime he needed a password he always uses your name and last name, your birth date, your favorite color, or the date when he asked you out to be his.

He can sing quite well and would sing a song when you're sad or aren't feeling the best, then he would offer his hand which you always take and he would spin you around before slow dancing with you to his singing as the music.

He would sneak into your room at night when you're asleep and kiss your forehead then leave something on your nightstand beside your bed so you'll always wake up to something new every day, whether it's a fresh bouquet of flowers in a vase, a book he issued for you that he thought you may like, a box of treats like chocolate and sweets or one of his sweaters/hoodies that smells like him.

He's shyer then Fred and still have that occasional blush, stammer and avoid eye contact with you when you change your appearance a little bit or did something that he found really attractive like twirling your hair or biting on your pen while focusing on something.

He tells funny stories about you any chance he gets to all his friends and Fred who finds it adorable that he's so excited to talk about you all the time.

He owns a polaroid camera that was made in the muggle world that he got from his dad as a "don't tell your mother I broke her favorite tea cup" present and takes it every time the both of you are out on a date, and he would ask to take pictures of just the two of you, let it print out and kept it in a bundle inside his sock drawer.

Holidays at the burrow Molly and Arthur love you and make you feel like a part of their family, but you happened to be closer to Ginny because it's like having a little sister. You'd talk about boys, quidditch, fashion, and more.

Instead of focusing on making joke products and trying them on you, he keeps trying to find ways how to make cool things that you can keep and that would impress you because, to be honest, he's just a little boy trying to impress his girl.

Sometimes out of nowhere he just goes "Will you marry me precious?" and get down on his knees or put your hand on his heart because he can't believe you're real and that never fails to make you blush so you just answered "Of course I will, but not now" with a giant smile on your face.

Hornier than Fred, but instead of being rough/playful and degrading during sex he seems to be more of a praiser and more gentle in the best way.

When you lay down on the Gryffindor common room couch he would sit on the opposite side, put your feet on his lap and message it asking about your day and what he can do for you today as well.

When he isn't with you during the holidays (Summer, Winter, and more) he would send you a cute little postcard every single day and a little gift through his family owl Errol.

As soon as he graduated and got the joke shop open he surprises you by saving up his money and getting his own place close to the shop so you can move in with him which you obviously accepted when he asks. The next thing on the list is a ring to marry you.

Taglist:

@igncrantbliss @milivanili99 @thatdummy-girl

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girl-next-door-writes · 2 years ago

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There You Are: Papercuts

Characters: George Weasley x reader

Summary: After the genius plan to find his soulmate falls through perhaps George just needs to be patient and let the universe reveal the truth when it’s ready.

Word Count: 1585 words

A/N: I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has reblogged and shared this little mini-series. I’ve really enjoyed writing it.

Despite the warm weather, George resolutely kept his shirt sleeves down, desperate to hide the fading message scratched onto his arm from everyone around him. Whoever you were, he had hurt you so much that you’d felt the need to injure yourself just to ask him to stop. Did that mean you didn’t know who he was? Surely if you knew he was your soulmate then you would have just asked him face to face, or even sent a note. That was, unless, you were disappointed that he was your soulmate. That thought stung and dug deep under his skin, soaking into his heart and leaving him feeling self-conscious.

“Come on George, one last try.” Fred pleaded as they made their way to charms.

“Don’t you bloody well dare! I’m not a pincushion or a punching bag, and my soulmate definitely isn’t.”

“Maybe they’ve got a high pain threshold, so every time we’ve punched him, they don’t even flinch.” Lee offered, not sure how their genius plan had failed.

“Yeah, that would be the only explanation.” Fred nodded, his brow furrowing a little as he thought. “We just need a new plan.”

“NO! No more plans. My soulmate will show up when they want to. Just leave it.” George stormed off towards the classroom leaving his brother and friend looking after him in confusion.

“Someone needs a wank.” Lee muttered causing Fred to scoff as they followed George into Charms.

You quickly walked into Charms class, your robe flowing behind you as you hugged your books to your chest. Finding your seat towards the front, you slipped onto your stool and tugged at the ends of your sleeves, ensuring you exposed as little skin as you could. The small crescent scar on the inside of your arm popped into your mind and you barely stopped yourself from tracing your finger over it. There was something comforting about knowing it was there, even if you knew that would be the only connection you shared with George Weasley.

Katie plonked her things down next to you and sat down with a grin. “I love this class.”

“That’s because you think it’s full of eye candy.” You chuckled as you made room for your friend.

“And you don’t? We’ve got Wood over there up front, Weasley squared just behind us and to the left, and Jordan right behind them. Come on, you’ve got to admit, that’s a lot of hotties in one room.” Katie glanced over at the twins, quickly looking away when she saw Fred glance in her direction.

“You once said that Snape looked dishy, so I’m not sure I trust your taste.” You hummed, trying to ignore the goosebumps that were erupting over your arms knowing you were sitting this close to George.

“Hey, he’d made an effort that day. I swear he’d curled his hair, maybe got a blow dry.”

“Katie, there’s no excuse.” You gave your friend a lopsided smile before Professor Flitwick called the class to order.

George was definitely not concentrating on the lesson, his thoughts drifting to his soulmate. He couldn’t help but keep picturing them sitting on a bathroom floor, carving the words into their arm, tears probably streaming down their cheeks as they silently begged for the pain to stop. It caused his heart to twist and he just wanted to wrap them up in his arms, whisper soothing words and soft apologies. It was never his intention to hurt you, and now you probably would never want to speak to him, even if you did know who he was.

He was so caught up in his own mind that he almost missed the final piece of the puzzle falling into place.

“Please take a piece of parchment and pass the rest on. I need everyone to have a fresh sheet.” Professor Flitwick announced, handing a pile of parchment to Oliver Wood, who was sat at the front.

Slowly, the pile made it’s way around the class and you took your sheet then you turned to hand the rest to Angelina, who was sat behind you. As she took them from you, a parchment edge sliced through the soft skin of your right index finger, causing you to wince and bring the digit to your mouth.

“You okay?” Katie asked.

“Papercut.” You shrugged, turning back to the front as you fumbled in your pocket for a tissue to wrap around your finger.

George saw you wince out of the corner of his eye as he flinched at the pain suddenly coming from his finger. He looked at the thin cut, his eyes widening. His head whipped up, and he observed you wrapping up your finger, and suddenly every fiber of his being cried out to rush to you, to check you were okay.

It was as if everything had clicked into place. Of course it was you! Who else would his soulmate be? It was so obvious and he didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before.

The rest of the class was now spent staring at you, taking in each and every detail he could. The way your lips curved, the way your hair fell, the way you tugged at your sleeves to prevent them raising up over your arms. Every thing you did was enchanting, and George was not even aware the lesson had finished until Fred punched his arm.

“What?”

“Where’s your head, George? Seriously.” Fred sighed, shoving his stuff in his bag.

“I just…” George’s gaze fell back onto you, and he realised you had already packed up and were leaving. In a sudden rush, he shoved all his things into his bag and hurried after you, calling your name as he entered the corridor, eyes scanning the crowd for you.

Hearing someone calling your name, you stopped and turned around with a small frown. As soon as your eyes met George’s, you knew that he knew what you knew. It was as if your feet were frozen to the stone beneath, a cold paralysis creeping up your legs keeping you trapped as he came closer.

George ran a hand through his hair and gave you an awkward, hopeful smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” The two of you just stood looking at each other as the corridor of bustling students carried on, as if the world hadn’t suddenly come to a standstill.

“I’m sorry.” George said softly, his fingers itching to reach for you but unsure how you would react.

“Sorry?”

“Fred had this stupid idea of injuring me until we found my soulmate and I didn’t mean for you to get hurt but I so desperately wanted to find you and I didn’t think. So… sorry, for the bruises and stuff, and sorry your soulmate’s a bit of a prat.” He flashed you a tight smile as he realised just how badly he probably screwed this up.

“You’ve been really careful since…”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“That rash kind of sucked.”

“Well, that wasn’t really my fault.”

“I get the feeling you’d say that about most of these.” You smirked, rolling up your sleeve and revealing the remnants of previous shared injuries.

George reached out and took your hand in one of his, the other tracing his finger over the small crescent scar from the firework burn. His touch sent a pleasant shiver through your body and his shy smile turned into a grin when he noticed.

“I promise I will be more careful, and if I do get hurt then I will come find you and kiss it better.”

“Really? I’m going to hold you to that.” Your smile matched his and George interlaced his fingers with your own, tugging you closer.

“So, how long have you known?” He asked softly, not caring that you both had other places to be.

“A while.” You tilted your head slightly, giving him a sad smile. “I was going to tell you, but then you were snogging someone else so I thought-“

“Oh shit! I was so drunk, I thought I’d found my soulmate, thought I’d found you. I saw a scar and went for it. Like I said, your soulmate’s a bit of a prat.” He winced, realising he’d probably caused you more than physical pain.

“I wouldn’t say he’s a prat. Sometimes he might act a little like one, but I happen to think he’s bloody brilliant, if a little clumsy.”

“Bloody brilliant? Well, I think I’m the lucky one because my soulmate is gorgeous and caring and so much more than anything I have ever hoped for, and I can’t wait to kiss them.”

“So, what are you waiting for?” Both of you slowly leaned into each other, feeling warm breath against your skin, your lips almost meeting.

“You are late for class. Stop loitering in the hallways and get to where you are supposed to be.” Professor Snapes voice cut through the moment, causing both of you to jump.

“I will meet you on the quad after class.” George flashed you a dashing smile before placing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand and then walking backwards away from you.

“Mr Weasley, watch where you are going, you do not want to cause your soulmate any further discomfort.” Snape chastised.

“Never, professor.” He winked at you then turned and hurried to class.

“You too.” Snape fixed you with a no nonsense look and you headed off to transfigurations, knowing full well that you wouldn’t take in a single thing Professor McGonagall said.

#George Weasley #George Weasley x reader #gndw mini series

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incorrectquotesharrypotterv · 2 years ago

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George: Are you talking to yourself?

Y/n: Yes.

Y/n: It's the only way I can have an intelligent conversation in this school.

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suugarbabe · 1 year ago

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Forget Me Not (3)

[Chapter 3]

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Word count: 2150

Warning: angst, fluff

an: the loooong awaited part 3! Sorry it took me so long, life got in the way and I was a little lost in my writers brain but i'm baaaack and it's gonna get juicier and better :)))))

Your body jolted, seemingly flinching at the action of Fred slamming his fist down on the table. You know he didn’t mean it on purpose, you knew this whole ordeal was harder on him than it was on any of you, but you couldn’t help feeling a little selfish at the fact that he still couldn’t remember anything significant about you.

After the intimate moment you had with him on the couch, holding him on your chest like you used to, tracing your fingers in his hair to help soothe him and calm him down that day, you thought that maybe he would start remembering. Maybe having a moment so similar to one you’ve had time and time again would trigger something in his brain.

However it seemed like the more time he spent with you the more frustrated he got. He got a headache everytime you were near him, every time you tried talking with him or tried to reminisce with George about the fun you guys had while at school. Fred could remember the exact scenario, remember everything he did and even George’s responses, but he couldn’t see you in any memory.

He said it was like there was a blurry figure when he tried to picture it, and then his chest started to feel tight and his head started to pound. You could tell when it started to happen. He would close his eyes, pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh deeply. Then he would slam his hand or fist down on the table, push his seat back harshly and leave the room.

It always left you feeling terrible. Terrible because you didn’t know how to help him. Terrible because you were the one causing him pain. Not on purpose, but it was clearly memories of you that were making him have these physical reactions. You wanted to comfort him, wanted to take him out into the garden like you’ve done hundreds of times and sit on the bench together, talking about everything frustrating and letting each other vent, it was your special spot. But you couldn’t. It would only cause things to get worse.

So when you heard Fred and George talking and your name get slipped into the conversation, you sat on the stairs, mouth covered by the sleeve of your jumper to help conceal your presence.

“I just don’t understand it, Georgie,” you heard the strain in Fred’s voice and you could feel your heart breaking. “Why can’t I remember her? Everyone keeps telling me how important she was to me. Merlin, she was apparently my bloody girlfriend! And if that’s true why hasn’t she told me that?”

You could hear George let out a sigh, “She is your girlfriend, Freddie, and you love her. So much, or at least you did. And she doesn’t want to make you feel like you have to be with her if you don’t remember.”

Tears brimmed your eyes, what George said holding truth. You were so desperately in love with Fred, but you were not going to force his hand if he couldn’t remember the love he had for you or all the times and intimate moments you shared together.

“It’s just, fucking bloody hell,” Fred slammed his fist against the table again, “Why does it physically fucking hurt when I think about her? Were we bad together Georgie? Was I terrible to her? Please tell me I wasn’t awful to her…she’s been so kind to me, even though I can’t remember a thing about her.

“She’s made me lunches, gotten me tea in the mornings, she even knows which jumpers are my favorite. What if I can’t remember anything about her because I was so terrible to her and I’m like, protecting myself from myself or something like that?” You could hear the wobble in Fred’s voice and you couldn’t stop the tears from silently falling down your cheeks.

“No, Freddie. No, no, you were amazing to her, so bloody good to her, and her you. Merlin you two had everything anyone would want, could almost finish each other’s sentences as well and me and you can. Honestly, Fred, you were talking about marrying her after the war was over…”

You bit the thick of your sleeve, trying to conceal the gasping sob that was threatening to escape as you listened to the plans you had no idea were being made. Fred was planning to ask you to marry him…and now he could barely remember anything about you, let alone the relationship you had built together.

You decided you’d heard enough, had hurt yourself enough eavesdropping, and tip-toed quietly to bed. You opened the door to Fred and George’s room as quietly as you could, hoping the sound of their own voices and the height you were at in the burrow was enough to conceal any creak the hinges might make.

When you closed the door, you finally allowed yourself to cry, collapsing onto Fred’s bed. He had been sleeping on the couch lately and you had taken home in his room in his place. You pulled back the quilt, sliding underneath before pulling it back up to your chin. You buried your face into his pillow, it still smelled like him; vanilla and cinnamon.

You must have fallen asleep while crying because the next thing you knew, the sun was peeking out from the curtains on the window. You stretched your arms out in front of you when you noticed something heavy slung around your waist. Your eyes shot open, seeing George completely zonked out in the bed across from you, meaning, “Freddie.”

His name came out in almost a silent whisper. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling your back impossibly closer to his chest. One of his long legs was slotted between yours, entangling your lower limbs as he subconsciously buried his face in the crook of your neck.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss waking up like this, but it had been a while since you had done so and you were not about to move yet. You closed your eyes again, relishing in the feeling of Fred against you in a way that felt so much like home. His broad shoulders and larger figure meant that he essentially engulfed you in a heated cocoon of his body and you loved every second of it.

When you heard George stirring across from you, you allowed yourself to open your eyes again. He was sitting up on the edge of his bed, hands resting on the bed beside his legs while the largest smirk was plastered on his freckled face, “Well, well, ducky. Don’t you two look cozy.”

You held up your middle finger, whisper shouting at the twin across from you, “Sod off, will ya? I just don’t want to wake him yet, he seems to actually be sleeping peacefully for once.” George held up his hands in defense, “You’re gonna have to wake him soon, I can smell mum making breakfast and she’s probably wondering where he is anyway.”

You sighed, slowly turning around in Fred’s hold as George left the room. When you finally managed to face him, Fred buried his head into your chest and pulled you closer, grabbing hold of the back of your knee and pulling it over his hip. You gasped slightly at the action, but didn’t make a move to pull away.

Light scratches to his scalp and the sound of your voice are what eventually pull Fred from his slumber. “Freddie, you’ve got to get up. Your mum’s making breakfast.” He groans, too comfortable in his current position to want to move, but he eventually pulls away from you, albeit very slowly.

You expected him to shoot away from you once he noticed his position but instead he just leaned back slightly so he could properly look you in the eyes. His hand was at the curve of your lower back, your leg still hooked over his hip, “Good morning.” He greeted you with a voice thick of sleep and you swore you could melt on the spot.

Realizing he was fully awake and speaking you went to move your leg off of him, but his hand shoots to your thigh, stopping your actions, “P-please don’t move yet, I haven’t been this comfortable since I’ve gotten home.”

He looked at you with shy eyes as you cupped his face with your hand, thumb tracing the apple of cheek, “Okay, Freddie.” He closed his eyes at your touch and you couldn’t help but trace the scar that was now prominent above his brow. The scar that represented the spell that took your Fred away from you, that erased you from his memory and left you and Fred in an emotional purgatory.

You let yourself get lost in comfortability, lost in your emotions as you placed a gentle kiss to his forehead, right next to his scar. When you pulled back, his eyes fluttered open to meet yours. There was a silence between you, not uncomfortable but you could feel it getting thick. Fred’s eyes fell to your lips, then slowly trailed back up to meet your eyes.

You stared at each other, not sure if he was going to make the move you were so desperate for. Your faces were so close, his lips right there. He cupped your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing your lower lip, dragging downwards slightly. Your breath hitches in your throat as you notice him leaning towards you. Your impatience got the best of you and you finished closing the gap between you, slotting your lips with a passion you had missed for months.

You weren’t sure if it was muscle memory, or if even in his forgetful state Fred was just as physically attracted to you but as soon as your lips met, it was like he couldn’t get your bodies close enough, his hand squeezing at the flesh of your thigh pulling you to straddle his lap as he turned to his back.

His other had found the back of your neck, holding your body flush to his as your hands found ground on the mattress on either side of his head. It had been so long since you kissed your boyfriend that it felt like a first kiss, your stomach in swirling butterflies, heart pounding against your chest.

Your lungs were burning but you didn’t want to pull away, the softness of his lips seemingly curing any emotional ailment you had been feeling the night before. When you finally pull away a slight whimper leaves Fred’s mouth, his hands settling on your hips as you sit on his lap.

“We’ve done that before, haven’t we?” Fred asks cheekily. You rake your teeth along your bottom lip, trying to suppress your smile, “Yes, Freddie. We’ve done that many times before.”

His hands ran idly up and down your thighs, “Well I think we should do it again, might jog my memory, yannow?”

You perked up a little, “Do you remember something, Freddie?” He shrugged his shoulders, “I remember that I really like kissing you, like love kissing you.” He laughed lightly, blocking your hand as you went to slap his chest, “C’mon, your mum’s making breakfast and we need to get down there. Any longer and she might think we’re doing dirty things.”

Fred wiggled his eyebrows, “Well we have done dirty things before, too, haven’t we?” This time you were successful in slapping his chest as you climbed off his lap. You smoothed out your pajamas and jumper as you answered him, “Yes, Freddie…we have done other things before. We’ve been…erm…were together for a long time.”

Fred frowned slightly at your correction, “We’re still together, as far as I know I never broke up with you.”

You shifted your weight on your feet, “Yeah, but you don’t exactly remember asking me out either.” Fred stood then, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you close, “Well maybe you can tell me all about it after breakfast, yeah?”

You opened your mouth to respond before jumping slightly at the sound of a ‘pop’ and George appearing in the room. “Seems like every time I see you two you get cozier and cozier.”

This time it was Fred who gave his brother the finger, “Don’t be jealous that you’re alone Georgie.” You had to cover your mouth to conceal your laughter, your heart soaring at your old Fred showing his joking nature.

George waved him off, opening the bedroom door and walking downstairs. Fred grabbed your hand as he followed his twin, “C’mon, love. After breakfast we’ll go sit by the garden and you can tell me all about us, yeah? Garden seems like a beautiful and peaceful place to talk, it can be like our special spot.”

Your heart was soaring, “Yeah, Freddie, our special spot.”

taglist: @words-are-cheap ; @l0ulistens ; @reallysparklychaos ; @df841 ; @rhahghbs ; @delfonicstheme-blog ; @marvelsbitch ; @slytherclaws ; @football1921

*if your name is bolded it would not let me tag you

#forget me not series #forget me not part 3 #fred weasley series #fred weasley fic #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x y/n #weasley twins #george weasley #golden era #harry potter

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keep-it-pottah · 27 days ago

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In The Shadows of Love’s Sin’s - F.W. G.W. I

A/N: I originally posted this on Wattpad but figured maybe I should post it on here as well so more people can read it. This is a series and is based on the movies cause I like the movies better and I'm starting this series with the third movie cause I hate the first two and have no ideas on how to really write anything involving the twins with the first two movies. Oh yeah, the spelling and grammar probably aren't good cause my native language is Korean and I'm still not completely fluent in English yet.

Also I lowkey hate this so far but at the same time I don’t so idk.

!! FEM ALIGNED/FEM READERS DNI !!

"So, what's it like in Egypt?" You ask once you were sat between Fred and George, a copy of the Daily Prophet in your hands showing the photo of the Weasley family while they were on their trip to Egypt. "I'm guessing it was hot?" You asked as you looked between the two boys sat on either side of you.

Fred, who was sat on your left, lightly shrugged before he scooted himself a bit closer to you in order to point to the pyramids in the background. "It was a bit hot, but the sights there made it so worth it." He said as he looked back up at you, a small smile resting on his lips once his gaze had landed on your own.

"Yeah, all the old and creepy stuff was so cool." George, who sat on your right, spoke up. He scooted himself closer to you the same way Fred had just done. "Knowing your fascination with all things creepy and old, you'd love it there, Y/N." George teased you while he lightly poked your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes at your friend's remark. "Oh, haha." You replied in a sarcastic tone while you gave George's arm a playful shove. "You could do without making fun of my interests for once, you know." You stated with a raise of your eyebrows.

Fred moved now so he had each leg on either side of the chair he sat on. "Ah, but it is not making fun of you that we are doing, dear Y/N." He states with a grin as he places an arm on your shoulder while he looked up at you with his charming and seemingly "innocent" eyes.

George is swift with his finishing of his brother's sentence. "Simply stating facts." He replied as he copied his brother's action and placed his own arm on your other shoulder. "We are not making fun of your interests."

"No matter how weird they are!" Fred continued while he lifted a finger up to make his statement more true.

"We are merely... pointing out that you would enjoy all the creepy and old stuff in Egypt." George stated with a grin as he had moved to rest his chin on top of his arm on your shoulder.

"Especially the tombs with the mummies in them!" Fred finished while he imitated his brother. The two boys were then resting their chins on their arms, both of which were still resting on your shoulders.

You huffed while you shrugged their arms off your shoulders. "Call it what you want. I see it as you making fun of the fact that I enjoy history and all things that prove that life isn't all happy-go-lucky." You responded as you moved to stand up from the chair you had sat in. "On another note, you two both need to learn about personal space." You stated while you pointed between the two boys. "You both seriously lack the ability to understand personal space."

Fred and George both made a faux offended look to each other before they moved to stand next to you once more.

"Of course we understand personal space." Fred starts as he moved to stand on your left.

"It just so happens that we enjoy your personal space more than we enjoy our own." George finished while he stood on your left. However, before you were able to speak up, the twins looked over and saw that their little brother, Ron, was showing both of his best friends, Harry and Hermione, the same clip that Fred and George had just shown you. Both of the twins attentions were then turned towards their brother as they both walked over to him.

"You're not flashing that clipping about again, are you, Ron?" The first twin had teased his little brother while he snatched the clip away from the younger boy.

Ron furrowed his eyebrows with a small pout-like frown rested on his lips. "I haven't told anyone." He huffed, after he pulled his pet rat closer to his chest.

"No, not a soul." The second twin responded as both of the twins walked around the table the three younger wizards sat at.

"Not unless you count Tom..." The first twin stated.

"The night maid..." The second twin continued.

"The day maid..."

"The cook..."

"The bloke that came to fix the toilet..."

"And the wizard from Belgium." The second twin finished with a teasing grin as he folded the clipping and placed it back on the table once the two were on the opposite side of the table from their little brother.

"Harry!" The twins and Ron's mother, Molly Weasley, called out once she had spotted Ron's friend, causing the younger wizard to turn his attention to the woman.

Ron scoffed before he looked over to where you stood once you had moved to get closer to the scene. "Hey! You showed it to him!" He argued, pointing to you. Fred and George grin as they moved to stand next to you once more.

"Ah, but you see here, Ronald," Fred starts as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, which caused you to roll your eyes.

"Y/N, here, happens to be our best and closest friend," George continued as he once again copied his brother by wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"And he is also the only person we showed," Fred continued as well.

"Because we do not feel the need to gloat about our trip, so we only showed the one person we actually enjoy talking to,"

"And the only person who we know actually enjoys hearing about our trip rather than random people who don't care about our life."

"So, you see, your argument about how we showed him," George motioned towards you, "is invalid."

Ron huffed and looked back down at the table as you, Fred, and George moved to sit down once more. Fred and George, of course, were sat on either side of you once more. You were always in the middle of them, no matter where they stood or sat, if you were with them you were in the middle.

"Maybe you should take a page out of their book, Ronald." Hermione stated in that same know-it-all tone she had anytime she said anything. That only caused Ron to roll his eyes and caused you to give her a sort of side-eye, judging glance. You and Hermione did not get along. At all.

Just then, Harry came back with a sort of lost look on his face as Fred and George's father, Arthur Weasley, was stood behind him, watching him walk back with a dark look in his eye. You and the twins all noticed it, yet no one spoke of it as you three were getting lost in your own conversation with each other.

~~~~~

Students shouting goodbyes to their parents, parents shouting tearful goodbyes to their children, the train whistle blowing, and the train engine roaring up signifies the beginning of a new year at Hogwarts. You and the twins stand at a window, your heads sticking out as the three of you wave goodbye to Arthur and Molly Weasley.

Of course, Molly is too busy running after the train to notice you and the twins. She carried Scabbers, Ron's rat, in her hands as she ran. Scabbers squeaked in her hands as she called out. "Ron! Ron! Ro-" She cuts herself off as she finally reaches Ron, who was three windows down from you, and hands him his rat. "Oh, for goodness sake!" She exclaims as she hands him Scabbers, a slight look of guilt and embarrassment on Ron's face at the realization that he left his rat behind. Once Ron has hold of his rat, Molly points a finger at him as she speaks once more. "Don't lose him!"

Ron lifts a hand up and waves with a nod, the same embarrassed expression on his face as he does so. You, Fred, and George all laugh at that before moving back inside the train and heading off to find a compartment that was either empty or had a few of your friends in it so you could join them.

"So, Freddy, George" You start as the three of you walk along the train, "Any classes you're excited for this year? Or are you just going to try and guilt trip me into doing all of your homework again?"

Fred and George exchange a grin before looking over at you once more with the same grin. "You know us too well." Fred starts, giving you a nudge.

"Although it's going to be exciting to mess with whoever the newest professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts is." George continues before the three of you stop in front of an empty compartment.

"Ten galleons says they quit on the first day." Fred says as you open the compartment door and step inside, the twins following after you.

You shake your head in response. "After you made Professor O'Neil quit our second year, I'm not taking that chance again." You say as you put your stuff above the seats, then help the twins put their stuff up. "Besides, after O'Neil quit, we had to get Quirrel to take her spot instead and we all know how that ended up. So are you sure you want to make this one quit as well so another one of you-know-who's followers can take it?"

George rolls his eyes as you put his trunk on the shelves above the three of you. "It was just a joke, Y/N. You're too uptight sometimes."

Fred hums and nods in agreement as he helps you put his trunk up next. "He's right, you know."

You just scoff before shutting the compartment door and sitting down on the opposite side of the twins. "More like I'm just trying not to get you two expelled or anyone killed."

George crosses his arms over his chest. "Hey, it wasn't our fault that Quirrel tried to kill Harry and bring back you-know-who. How were we supposed to know?"

You just sigh and shake your head. "Just- don't try and make anyone quit this year. It didn't end well last time."

Fred and George both groan in annoyance. "Fine." They say in unison. Just then, the door to the compartment opens and two of your friends, Angelina and Lee, enter. They both sit next to you after putting their things up, with Lee on your left while Angelina was on your right.

~~~~~

A few hours later, after you had fallen asleep, the compartment was now silent, as was most of the train. The only sounds filling the small area was the quiet pattering of rain drops against the window, the train running on the tracks, thunder rumbling in the distance, Fred and George occasionally speaking quietly, and distant sounds of people speaking on occasion.

Lee was asleep as well, leaning against the window to the outside, Angelina was reading a book while you had your head on her shoulder, fast asleep, while Fred and George were eating whatever sweets they had got from the trolly and arguing on which ones were better.

Eventually, the sound of the train wheels squeaking and the train shaking as it comes to a halt causes everyone to stop what they're doing and look around in confusion. You and Lee end up waking up at the sound of the train wheels, and you blink a few times before sitting up straight, looking around in confusing like the others.

"What's going on?" You ask, rubbing your eyes a bit as you look out the window for a moment to try and figure out what was happening. "There's no way we're there already."

Fred shakes his head. "No, we're not. We're just stopped out of nowhere." He says in response as he looks out the window as well.

"Did we break down then?" You ask as you move over to the door to the compartment. You then open the door and peak your head out, looking down the little hallway to see if there was an answer out there somewhere, only to end up seeing other students doing the same. However then, the train jerks, causing you to fall backwards, landing in George's lap with a little 'oof'. George groans, as you had landed right on his groin and it was pretty painful. "Ah, hell... Sorry, Georgie."

George just groans in pain once more, his hands grabbing your waist to try and push you off of him. You quickly stand and move off of him, sitting beside him now. Just then, the power in your compartment, and the rest of the train, goes out. You furrow your eyebrows and look around in confusion.

"What is happening?" Lee asks, now having finally woken up. He lifts his head and looks out the window, narrowing his eyes to try and see through the fog and the rain. "There's something moving out there." He mumbles before letting out a shiver.

After he finishes speaking, frost begins to slowly coat the window. Everyone shudders at the sudden drop in temperature, breaths now visible in the chill air. You notice how George wraps his arms around himself, so you mindlessly wrap one of your arms around him to try and warm him up. Unbeknownst to you, Fred frowns and glares at you and George a bit in slight envy, while George smiles to himself. The lights flicker on for a few moments before flickering off once more mere seconds later.

The train jerks once more, causing Lee to his head on the window and to groan in pain. "Ow!" He exclaims and hisses softly as he rubs his head. "Dammit."

Fred then turns away from you and George and looks out the window instead, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. "I think... I think I see someone coming on board?"

The frost on the window then begins to slowly turn to ice as the temperature drops even lower, below freezing this time. All of the drinks you all had begins to freeze as well, and everyone's breathing becomes even more visible. The train jerks more roughly this time, causing everyone to fall back in their seats and to look around in a panic. "What the bloody hell is going on?" Angelina asks as you all look around. "It's so cold."

Just then, the faint silhouette of a cloaked figure begins to appear in front of the door of the compartment, the sound of wind whistling and an eerie hum filling the air. A long, skinny, and seemingly bony hand reaches out, the slender fingers curling and causing the door to slowly slide open. A soft, muffled, whooshing sound fills the air as the cloaked figure appears in the doorway.

The more the door opens, the colder the compartment gets. All of the cheerful, happy feelings in the air drop and is replaced with numbness and pain. It was as if all the happiness and glee had been drained from the world. However for you it's different. Instead of numbness you feel, it's shame, disappointment, and anxiety.

Once the cloaked figure is standing in the open doorway, you can immediately recognize it. "Dementor..." You whisper, causing the dementor to turn its attention to you. The more it focuses on you, the more the shame you feel grows.

The dementor gets closer to you, its hood pulling back a small bit. A distorted whooshing sound fills the air as its hand reaches out and caresses your chin. Its fingers are cold, ice cold, and it burns. You can feel the burns being left behind on your skin as the dementor begins to inhale, feeding off of all the feelings of shame and disappointment coursing through you at the moment. It hurt, it was so painful. The worst agony you had ever felt before.

After you had let out a groan in discomfort, Fred suddenly stands and shoves the dementor out of the compartment and slams the door shut. He yells out in pain, the pain from the cold burn on his hands almost unbearable. However before you can say anything, the world around you begins to fade and all sounds grew quiet. The last thing you hear is the sound of Fred and George calling out your name until it all goes dark.

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odinsonslut · 2 years ago

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4 am

⊹ genre: angst, fluff ending

⊹ pairing: george weasley x reader (implied female)

⊹ themes: slight enemies to lovers, slight friends to lovers???

⊹ summary: following the abrupt ending of your friendship, George, the instigator of the breakup, continues to treat you with carelessness and disregard. You’re pushed to the point of retaliation, leading to a cruel confrontation. George attempts to redeem his character and finally express his feelings.

⊹ warnings: swearing, kind of a heated suggestive make-out, a mean george.

⊹ word count: 2.1k

⊹ a/n: I haven’t written since, like, 2018. PLEASE, please treat me gently. I know I tend to overuse the same phrases within a story. I also suck at writing summaries. I promise there’s more to it than described 🫶🏽🫶🏽

It was 4 am when I jolted awake, still wading off the reminiscent agitation from a dream involving a sinking ship and a niffler from what I could remember. Hermione’s lamp was on its dimmest setting right next to where she had fallen asleep, book in hand, a muggle book I had gifted her since I rarely saw her reading for pleasure since we entered our fifth year.

I turned her bedside lamp off on my way out, hoping the elves were up preparing breakfast. I’d befriended Winky and often spent time with her over butter cookies in the kitchens when I had trouble sleeping. Her addiction was steadily improving without the burden of her previous master.

I made my way to the common room, contemplating walking all the way down to the kitchens, when I heard a thudding pair of footsteps down the stairs. It was George. It was too late to act like id never looked up; we had already made eye contact. Our usual routine was to avoid an acknowledgement of any form. Things hadn’t been the same since he’d rejected my invite to the yule ball last year, though that wasn’t why our friendship had fallen through.

“He’s got you sneaking out at night now too?”

I was taken aback. The last time we’d ever spoken was the reluctant exchange of Merry Christmas’ due to Molly’s prodding at the burrow. The ‘he’ George was referring to was the date you ended up with at the ball, Draco, the reason George had cut you off completely that night.

“Tell Angelina she’s welcome to join us when she grows tired of faking it with you.”

I was furious. Why does he get to decide your friendship is over? Why does he get to be mad about your relationship after rejecting you? Why is the standing of our relationship always dictated by how he feels and what he wants? And why should I continue acting civilly towards him?

I picked a book off the shelf and bumped his shoulder as I passed him, deciding to return to bed. I had lost my appetite.

I’d practically sprinted to the great hall for dinner after a two-hour-long class of potions. Since your breakup, being partnered up with Draco for the next year was a little awkward. Keeping the DA a secret and him being on the inquisitorial squad just caused too many issues that couldn’t be resolved on top of the Gryffindor-Slytherin debacle. He was the sweetest boy, and being apart still hadn’t affected how he treated you at all: softly, politely. It was comforting knowing he’d always have a soft spot for you, but getting to the point of friendship would take a little longer.

I sat between Hermione and George, across from Harry, getting subtle looks from my friends. I was tired of walking on eggshells around George, waiting for him to dictate how our interactions go or tailoring my behaviour for his comfort. This was his problem, not mine.

“Get yourself somewhere else to sit. This seat is spoken for”, he spoke immediately.

I refused to react defensively. Instead, I picked an eclair off his plate and took a bite.

Harry avoided looking at us at all, shovelling meat pie into his mouth. Hermione didn’t employ the same faux indifference, staring directly at us. George shifted a bit farther away from me and continued eating, similarly refusing to give me a reaction.

“Where is Angelina? Last I saw, she was off ‘practising’ with Marcus Finch”, I prodded, refusing to concede

“Your desperation for me is becoming pitiful to witness; it’s pathetic. Keep her name out of your mouth; you’d think it’d be exhausted with what all you spend your time doing with it.”

You finally got the rise out of him you were looking for, you pushed him to a breaking point, but it wasn’t the satisfying victory you imagined. It hurt.

I kept my gaze downcast, lightly placed the remainder of the unfinished eclair back onto George’s plate and left the hall. I spent the night on a couch in the room of requirement, unwilling to accept Hermione’s comfort quite yet.

“What on earth is going on with you two?” Hermione was lying on my bed beside me, our hands loosely intertwined. She’d spent all Saturday morning with me, avoiding the topic of George completely till now.

I sighed

I knew it would be an inevitable discussion, but a part of me wished I could avoid it into in-existence. “It was embarrassing, Mione. I think we’re truly done with each other, and I honestly feel okay with the thought of that. I know I pushed him, but hearing those words was jarring. It felt like a completely different person than who I thought was still in there. It’s the lighthearted and slightly sarcastic tone in which he said it that made it hurt. I feel foolish.”

“Nothing you put him through warranted that response, honestly? It sounded more like a projection to me. You were dignified in accepting his rejection, and he cut you off for going with someone else?”

“There is absolutely no sense in trying to decipher why the Weasley boys act the way they do. I’ve still never gotten a sound explanation as to what exactly Ron was on that night, either. I mean, it’s obvious he was jealous but-

“Yeah, jealous he wasn’t Victor’s date for the night”, She cut me off.

“oh my god, whatever happened to the Krum-themed anal plug Fred had custom-made Ron for Christmas third year?”

Opening my eyes felt like such an effort; my head felt like pounding out of its skull in an unfamiliar bed in the boys’ dormitory. I recognised the burgundy hand-knitted sweater with a large W embroidered on it. My heart leapt into my throat for a split second. I had worried I’d somehow managed to break into George’s room for a confrontation.

He had been on my mind a lot lately. It had been about two months since the incident, and since we last spoke, and lately, he and Fred have been all everyone can talk about with the success of their prototypes and antics that seemed to have tightened in frequency the more decrees imposed by Umbridge.

I was rushing to get my things together when he walked in. I paused in place, petrified.

“You were careless last night. I don’t know when you became this person, but you’ve got to stop letting Malfoy ruin you. Muggle narcotics are dangerous.”

Just hearing his voice chastising me yet again pulled at me internally.

“I’m begging you to stop saying anything to me at all if they’re going to come out like that; I will genuinely beg because I just can’t take this from you anymore, George.”

He looked unamused

“When did you become so weak? Malfoy broken you down so badly that all you know how to do is make yourself small and beg?”

I’d had just about enough. I threw George against the wall yelling at him to shut the fuck up, haphazardly punching him wherever I could land any, the frustration that had built up for months finally meeting its outlet. Save from shielding his face, George stood there and took it till I was done.

“Draco and I broke up over two months ago. He’s a good friend, he does help me get what I use, but he makes sure I’m safe and alive whenever I’m using” I finally broke the silence, and we sank to sit on the floor across from each other.

“I know, he told me last night. He was carrying you outside the common room, yelling at the fat lady to let him in to put you to bed. He told me you’d broken up and that you remained friends. He also said you were developing a problem and needed me back.”

“I don’t need Malfoy speaking for me, and having you around would actualise my supposed ‘problem’. Why am I in your clothes in your bed?”

“When I opened the door for Malfoy, you asked me to stay with you. You told me you just wanted one night of being us again, so I gave you clothes to change into, put you to bed in my room, and slept on the couch in the common room.”

I stood up to leave without acknowledging his response, relieved nothing else had happened.

“I don’t know that it’ll change anything for you, but I’ve felt sorry for treating you the way I did for a really long time. I figured you’d finally found peace with the situation and avoided trying to resolve things for that reason. At least, that was the excuse I forced myself to believe. I didn’t realise I was really just afraid of confrontation and rejection. Not generally, just with you. You were right about Angelina, too, apparently, she’s been shacking up with Finch since Christmas,” He continued

“None of that means anything to me. For as long as you got to decide to do whatever you wanted with my feelings, all I wanted was to get past this. This doesn’t mean anything to me after what you’ve done with the importance I trusted you enough to hold to you. I’m well within my right to decline your apology. And it isn’t even to spite you for your selfish decisions. You were right. I am truly happy without you. You don’t mean anything to me anymore.” I spoke with my back towards him and walked out and back to my dorm immediately after.

George had spent the last three weeks trying to earn back a spot in your life as the friend he once was to you. He’d done everything you hoped he would for the longest time, and it felt empowering to ignore his advances and put your pride first. But the more time you reluctantly spent with the old George, the harder it was to stop your previous feelings from resurfacing.

This particular morning, if you could even classify 4 am as the morning, George had snuck into your dorm with Harry’s cloak in hand. You only agreed to leave with him because he promised you a visit to Winky. After devouring an entire gooseberry pie between you, George suggested a walk by the lake. It was tempting, especially after seeing how he interacted with Winky, as normally as he does everyone else, without judgement. But you pushed yourself to decline and returned to the common room together.

You spotted professor Snape on your way up, seemingly aggravated by Peeves, omitting a chuckle from George as he watched Snape flail around, attempting to curse the ghost.

“Who’s there?” He sneered

I immediately lifted my hand to cover George’s mouth as we scooted closer together under the cloak. We kept our eyes locked as we tried to remain still. His eyes dipped to my lips at the same time he lifted my palm off of his. Tangling his left hand into my hair, he used his right to guide my waist back till we hit the wall and kept me in his hold, his lips moving closer to mine with every breath he took

“What’re you doing?” I asked softly enough for just the two of us to hear

He looked into my eyes as he finally connected his lips with mine, our eyes fluttering shut after the initial kiss as we melted into it. He teased my tongue with him as he hoisted me up to his level, wrapping my legs around his waist. The build-up of tension escaped us with every rough feverish kiss. His kisses moved to my neck as he began guiding my hips against his, perfectly lining me up against him. I could barely keep myself composed.

“It’s unfortunate, the 50-point deduction limit per student” My blood ran cold at the sound of Snape’s voice. George immediately dropped me to the ground, where I landed on Harry’s discarded cloak. George squeezed my hand in comfort, signalling he’d take care of things.

He took a breath and stepped toward Snape. “I drugged her, Sir; she’s completely innocent.”

“God, you’re an idiot”, I thumped him on the back of his head.

We sniggered, trailing a few steps behind Snape as we were escorted back to our dormitories, not too fussed about detention every week till the end of the term.

End

✩ I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE ANY OF MY WRITING POSTED ON ANY EXTERNAL WEBSITES ✩

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donaweasley · 2 years ago

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Everything is Fair in Love and War

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Plot:

You had met the twins at Hogwarts; you’re a year junior to them. Although you are best friends with both of them, you cannot help your heart’s inclination towards the younger one. During one of your stays at the Burrow, some feelings threaten to spill out but…will they?

Warnings: None, really. Just some high school mischief and fluff.

Read time: ~11 mins

Note: I've assumed that the reader is 14 years of age here but you're free to put in any number you like! And you can put the reader in any house you wish to!

Next Chapter: A Walk in the Dark

The three of them - Fred, George and (Y/N) - were hanging out in the twins' room. Ron and Ginny were confined to the kitchen by their mother, courtesy of the fight they had earlier in the morning.

"Freeedd!" Mrs. Weasley's sharp voice shot through the house.

Fred groaned while the other two chuckled, knowing very well that he was only one step away from being pushed into a chore.

"What is it, mum?" He asked in an almost equally loud voice.

"Come down here, I need you to put these dishes on the shelves."

"But Ron and Gin are already there!"

"They already have enough to do. Just get down before I shout myself sore."

"I'm keeping (Y/N) company! She's our guest."

"One of you would be enough to keep her company for a while. Now get down here before I confiscate your broom!"

The last three words finally urged Fred to move towards the door. George and (Y/N) sniggered only to receive a death glare from him before he wearily walked out.

"See, told you I'm mum's favourite twin", George smirked, and plopped down on the vacant space that Fred had left beside her.

"Ha ha ha. Yes, I can see that everyday."

"Do I smell sarcasm?"

"Do you?" She sniffed the air. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Huh! Whatever you say, darling, I know I'm the favourite one. And not just for mum." With the last word he leaned in slightly, and playfully kicked her leg while giving a smug look.

(Y/N) felt her cheeks warm up because no matter how much she denied, he was right. He was definitely her favourite twin, too. But the questions that clouded her mind were, "Does he know that I have a crush on him? Shit!! How? Am I that obvious?"

If he knew, there would have been nothing more embarrassing and painful to be teased by both brothers only to eventually face rejection.

No. Not happening!

She mustered her courage, gathered all her emotions that were scattered around George Weasley, and decided to play cool.

To push her rising discomfort away, she kicked him back. Lightly.

"In your dreams, Weasley!" (Y/N) tried to sound vain but facepalmed herself mentally when the words sounded pretty shy.

Idiot me!

George simply laughed and kicked her again. This went on to and fro for a while until he accidentally hit a little hard.

"Aah!" She shouted and tried to kick him harder but George had much quicker reflexes than she’d probably ever have. (Y/N) immediately found her legs wrapped in his, unable to move them at all.

"Leave me, Weasley!"

He simply laughed at his friend’s miserable state. Now, George has this infectious laugh that always left its effects on her.

And soon, through an avalanche of laughs cascading from both of them, she was hitting his arms and back.

There were rare, almost zero incidents, when (Y/N) had actually won a fight with either of the twins. The only way she could win was emotionally. Sometimes. Their tall and strong frames effortlessly dominated her on any given day.

And the same happened again.

She was already partially imprisoned by George. The remaining of her limbs were soon held tightly in his hand. In one hand.

Oh! Why am I so tiny before them!!

She tried to jerk herself free but in vain. Obviously.

"George!! Let go of me!"

"You should've thought before you started hitting me."

"I didn't start! You did! You kicked me first."

He made a face as though he received the biggest shock of his life.

"What?? That was just...just...a touch! I'm sure you barely felt it!"

"No, it was not! Now", She was grunting by then, trying to free herself, although she would never confess that she was rather enjoying it thoroughly, "leave me, buffoon!"

"I'd expect some respect, missy!"

"Okay, how about", she pretended to think, "baboon? You have the exact same kind of limbs. And face, too!"

"What? Are you blind? You call this handsome and charming man a baboon?"

"Hah! You are very delusional, I must say then!"

"M not! You're mental, I must say then."

"George", She drawled out his name, "you're so taallllll! Look at me. I'm so tinyyyy! Let me goooo." She tried to make puppy eyes and pout.

He sighed. "Alright. Say 'please'."

The girl pursed her lips and looked away. That, she wasn't going to say.

"I didn't hear anything yet!"

"Fine then. I won't say it. Keep me holding all day long. Your mum will come to my rescue", she shrugged.

"Okay!" And he wrapped his arms around her tightly, and started tickling.

"Not fair!" She squirmed and shouted, trying desperately to free herself but failing.

"Y’know it: everything's fair in love and war", he panted as he tried to keep a tight hold on his prey and continue his torture.

"Oh! So, we’re at war, are we?" (Y/N) was laughing like a maniac by then. Her cheeks and tummy were hurting.

"No, darling! I’m in love with yo-"

He almost mumbled the last few words. The most important words, at least to (Y/N). And then he stopped abruptly. Both in words and actions.

Her head shot up to face him.

What the hell was that? What did he just say? Did he mean it?

(Y/N)’s thoughts were screaming and running wild inside her head. She could feel her ears burn.

Thankfully, she wasn't the only one who went red in the face. George's face was as red as hers was.

They sat frozen, with her still locked in his grip.

"I... I...", George tried to say something. She wanted to hear something. That thing. But all they could do was stare into each other's eyes.

"Is this the moment then?" she thought. "Will he... Shall I... Does he..."

But alas! Before any of her wishes could come true, George snapped out his trance. He quickly released her from his grip, and looked at the floor, thus snapping her out of her trance as well. Suddenly they both found the floor pretty interesting.

There was an awkward silence looming in the room. (Y/N) felt thrilled, disappointed, hopeful, shy - all at the same time. It was like her mind was having an emotional indigestion.

Shoving all thoughts behind into the closet of her mind, she turned towards him.

"Let's go dow-", they both said together. Thankfully, the laughter that followed, although a nervous one, chased the heavy and uncomfortable silence away, making the air easy and breathable again. But the hint of pink that had settled on their cheeks wasn’t going anywhere easily.

He got up and offered her his hand. "Downstairs", he smiled.

"Downstairs", she agreed and took his hand.

---

Meanwhile, in the kitchen...

"Aah!"

"Leave me, Weasley!"

"You should've thought before you started hitting me."

"I didn't start! You did! You kicked me first."

"What?? That was just..."

Fred looked at his mother with an exaggeratedly helpless face, "See, mum. This is exactly why I didn't want to leave them alone. One of them is going to get hurt."

"Okay, how about...baboon?"

Molly sighed and shook her head while Ron and Ginny exchanged funny glances.

"Oh! So, we’re at war, are we?"

"No, darling! ..."

And then there was silence. An abrupt silence. All of them paused their work and looked up towards the twins' room.

"D'you think one of them is dead?" Ron asked with wide eyes.

"Oh! Shut up, Ron! George must have hit (Y/N) and now he's regretting it", Ginny justified. "He's going to regret it so much!!" Her eyes lit up with the idea of her friend taking revenge on her brother.

"Did they finally kiss?" Fred quipped.

Three pairs of wide eyes shot towards Fred.

"Bloody hell!"

"Already?"

Molly simply gasped.

Fred threw his hands up in the air. "Just guessing!"

All the Weasley's could clearly see what (Y/N) and George could not: that they fancied each other. A lot. So, it wasn't the idea of them being together that shocked them but the thought that they could finally see through their friendship and acknowledge their feelings was what left them speechless.

The more the silence lingered the higher their curiosity peaked until they heard footsteps descending the stairs.

All eyes were fixed on the stairs, waiting to find an answer and cool down the questions that were bubbling in the pits of their stomachs.

---

George and (Y/N) made their way downstairs rather quietly, hand-in-hand though. Holding hands was perfectly normal for them but the silence was unusual, unless they were on to some mischief. And it felt pretty weird. The unspoken tension between the two was still hanging in the air, and her stomach churned at the thought of the possibilities that might be going on in George's mind.

As they reached the final flight of stairs, (Y/N) realised that the rest of the family were staring up at them as though they were anticipating a dinosaur to descend into the living room. George, too, had evidently noticed it because he stopped in his tracks, trying to gauge the situation.

"You all okay?" He asked with furrowed brows.

(Y/N) was sure she noticed Molly's eyes flick between their faces and their interlocked hands. But before she could even think "why", she was knocked off her feet.

"Did you two kiss?" Ron blurted out.

"What??" They shouted in unison.

As if the existing tension wasn't enough, it felt like thunder had exploded between them, exactly where George and (Y/N) were standing. With a jolt, they released each other's hands and stepped away as much as the staircase would allow them to. The pink on their cheeks turned to deep red, and she found herself at an utter loss of words.

What a ridiculous question!! In front of Molly? In front of Molly?? In front of George? What would he be thinking? What if he's so embarrassed that he never speaks to me again?

Wait! Why did Ron say so in the first place?

Her train of thoughts got interrupted by a flustered George shouting at his little brother, "Have you gone bonkers?? Why the hell would you say so?"

"So, you did not?" Fred sounded sceptical.

(Y/N) stepped forward boldly, "Of course, not! Why are you all looking at us like this?" In contrast to her bold step, her words came out in a squeak.

"Oh! Nothing!" Molly looked as though she had suddenly returned to Earth. With a wave of her hand, she dismissed the whole situation. "Carry on", she said, and went out of the house casually as if nothing that had happened was out of place.

George and his partner-in-crime, both utterly baffled, looked at each other, trying to make out what just happened. None of them had the slightest clue.

They went down the remaining steps very cautiously, as if the slightest action might trigger another weird question. All the siblings were pretending to work diligently but their faces gave away the knots in their minds. Gingerly, they made their way to Ron, knowing that he'd be a much softer target than either Ginny or Fred.

"Ronnie?" (Y/N) placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, (Y/N)?" His voice was absolutely cool as though nothing odd had happened.

"D'you mind explaining?" George stood facing his brother.

"What?"

"Ron", George almost growled which startled us all.

"Okay! Okay!"

Through a rush of words, he explained their ideas and speculations, ultimately leaving both George and (Y/N) red-faced again.

When he had finished, Ron received a good smack on the back of his head, the action instantly reminding them of Snape.

"I didn't say anything! He did!" Ron shouted, pointing towards Fred.

"Uuuhhh...I was just... guessing?" Fred raised his hands in the air in surrender.

"It isn't funny", a red-faced George warned him.

"Noted!" His twin nodded enthusiastically.

The guest in the Burrow didn't know what to say. Or how to react. A part of her was hopping like a little girl because they thought that she and George were a thing. But George here was furious about the whole situation. Her heart dropped. She tried to look annoyed and faked a scoff but probably her eyes gave the disappointment away because she noticed Fred looking at her in a rather odd way.

Little did she know then that George was reflecting her thoughts. That he was pulled into the same whirlpool of conflicts that had messed up her mind.

They sat down at the table to lend a hand to Ron and Ginny while exchanging awkward looks and smiles with each other.

***

Taglist!! Let me know if you wish to be added...or removed.

@scram1326 @ariaterum @persephone13 @gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley @nunanuggets @lolhelpimtired @madmadgirlperson @dontfallinlovelol @r4ttusr4ttus @emilykolchivans @queerponcho @loveforweasley @turvi @lovers-111 @waitforiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit @justafangir1 @the-holy-trinity-l @minatozsana @baddiebbarbietngz

#george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fluff #george weasley x fem #george weasley series #george weasley love #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fic

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turvi · 2 years ago

Text

Darling Mine

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

She exhaled as she cracked her knuckles. Her body grew more tired as the hours passed. Today was the final OWLS exam and although Y/n was confident that she would get excellent marks, she was exhausted because of the hours she spent in her dorm preparing for the exams.

She pushed herself to complete the answers as her exhausted mind had enough of this exam and wanted nothing but rest. She flipped the pages revising and checking the answers. Tears brimmed her eyes as she yawned again. She felt like she could pass out right now on the desk if the Professor had not announced that the time was over.

She rested her face on one hand as Professor Filch collected the papers. She closed her eyes and told herself she would take a power nap of 15 minutes as Professor Filch collected answer sheets. But as soon as Professor Filch moved to the next row, Y/n went out like a light.

George saw this and sighed. He sat down beside her and admired how peaceful she looked right now. Her eyebrows were rid of the usual frown. His heart stirred when her lips twitched in her sleep.

He could describe their relationship as complex. Ever since he first saw her he knew she is there to stay in his life. He noticed she was in deep slumber. He picked her up and took her to his dorm.

He made coffee as she slept peacefully on his bed. She looked so exhausted...just so she could prove to her parents that she is brilliant. They were also the reason why Y/n never even looked George's way even though her heart ached for him.

The L/n's had a reputation. They were not as powerful as Malfoys and Blacks but they were still honored members of the pureblood society. They had warned her when they saw her giggling with George that they will disown her if they ever see her with him again.

George was heartbroken when Y/n would not look at him. He knew how much she loved him. There was no doubt about that. His siblings especially Fred would try to convince him to move on and he would have if he had not seen how much she cared for him even if she tried not to show it.

How George would find a blanket on him if he fell asleep on the common room couch, or how he caught her charming his tea to remain hot on a chilly night, or how after a rough quidditch match she patched him up and stayed with him till morning.

George barely hated anything. Hate was a strong word for him. But he hated how fate was trying to keep him apart from someone he truly loves. But he can't really fault fate, after all, it is because of her he got to know his love.

Y/n woke up when she felt someone caressing her head. She opened her eyes to a familiar red-headed twin to whom she had lost her heart. She had finally admitted to herself how she longed to stay like this in his arms, to be called his. She wished she was brave like him, brave enough to fight her fate just to see him look at her like this.

Her heart fluttered when he leaned in. He was so close yet so far. She whispered "George"

"Shh. Just please let me see you properly"

She couldn't deny him. His brown irises tried to store this moment. He hoped he could remember her this vividly. She finally smelled the coffee on the nightstand. She smiled as she looked at him "When were you going to tell me-

He couldn't take it anymore. His lips crashed on hers. His hand gently held her jaw. He felt her hand on his chest. She whined as he kissed her with more fervor. She gasped as they finally broke apart. Their chest heaving as they look into each other's eyes. No words were spoken. Like they were meant to be there.

"George..you know I can't do this" Her view of her love blurred as tears clouded her eyes. Pain is evident in her e/c eyes. George wonders how long she has been holding this pain in her heart?

He knew how her parents disapproved of him and how much she loved him but had to let go because she preferred to live in pain rather than see him get hurt by her parents.

"I love you Y/n...and I know you do too"

She was about to speak up when he spoke up again "Marry me"

Her jaw dropped but butterflies stormed in her stomach. She could not believe what she was hearing. She knew her parents would marry her to a man who was older than her father only for money and position.

George held her closer, looking deep into her e/c eyes, hoping she could see how much he craved for her. "We can marry in secret. They can't separate a married couple. We can go far away from here and spend our life together."

He desperately held her hand. She smiled loving the idea of spending life with George Weasley. She got up from his lap and caressed his cheek. "I know how much your shop means to you. More importantly, I know how much your family means to you. That is why we can't be together George. You deserve something better"

He shook his head holding her shoulder, afraid if he lets go she might go away. "Do you not love me?"

Tears finally dropped down her cheeks. She sat on his lap and took his hand and placed it on the left side of her chest. He could feel her heart rate increase.

She sobbed "I love you, George...please I really do. But I don't want my parents to harm you or your family because of me"

Their lips made contact again. The lovers not wanting to say goodbye to each other. "They won't be able to. Just be mine and I will always protect you." He chuckled "You will be one of the Weasleys. I won't let them take you away from me"

She smiled and nudged his nose "I have always been yours. And if you are by my side I can fight anyone who is against my love"

George planted kisses all over her face, her giggles encouraging him more. "Thank you, thank you. I love you so much Y/n L/n"

"I love you so much, George Weasley"

He giggled "Mrs. Weasley. Suits you"

She kissed him ready for the obstacles she knew she was going to face to love, George Weasley. But she didn't mind. Not when the idea of spending life together with him was a reality now

A/N: REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED

#george weasley x reader #george weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x slytherin reader #george weasley imagine #george fabian weasley #george weasley #george weasley imagines #weasley twins #harry potter series #hogwarts #weasley family #george weasley fluff #george weasley fic #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem #george weasley x you #Spotify #turvi writes

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dittanyinbloom · 2 years ago

Text

Fate Aligned

This is a bit strange for me to post here, but it is a second part to this George Weasley x fem!reader fic I made on an old account. Sebastian Sallow heavily influenced me with ideas for a part two. If you want to know why George and reader aren’t going to the Yule Ball with everyone else, read that one first! It’s cute! I promise!

George Weasley x fem! reader. Rated T for a brief make-out session and a few curse words here and there.

summary: You and George manage to lose a total of eighty house points on the night of the Yule Ball which you were not planning on attending because George gave all his money for dress robes to Fred so that at least one of them could go.

(also, the lockets mentioned in this are a little Easter egg for a SebastianxMCxOminis OT3 fic I may or may not be working on called Lover’s Lockets. It’ll probably come out in early summer, but the inspiration to write this first hit me like the Hogwarts Express)

.🍬✨🍬

The younger students that were not able to attend the ball had long since traveled home for the holidays. With everyone else draped in their best and headed for the Great Hall, you and George had the castle to yourselves. The possibilities were endless. Should you sneak into the faculty tower and see what the professors’ rooms looked like? Perhaps you would break into the Headmaster’s office and search for priceless Hogwarts artifacts. Maybe the librarian left the key for the Restricted Section at her desk while she was whisked away to the ball.

Of all the places they could go, George had chosen not only the most boring, most dangerous, but also the most unromantic of them all. Filch’s office was just off the Entrance Hall, which happened to also lead to the Great Hall. Only a couple sets of doors separated the two from being caught.

“Must this be done tonight?” You whispered from behind a giant Christmas tree that decorated the center of the Entrance Hall in front of the doors that lead outside. The Grey Lady was weeping at a statue perched on the upper tier, just a few feet from the door to the Reception Hall where you would find Filch’s office as well as a few stragglers taking a breather outside the Ball.

“They’re candies. We need to get them back and sell them before they go bad. This might be our only opportunity. When else is he going to be this distracted? He bought Ms. Norris a new collar. They’ll both be at the ball.”

“And we’ll both be in detention if your plan goes wrong, which they often do.”

“No, those are always Fred’s plans. Mine work like a charm,” and as he said the last words, he waved his wand and disappeared. The disillusionment charm was something you were becoming to be quite familiar with as of recently. Two boisterous redheads may or may not be the cause of it. You followed in suit, tugging your school robe over your hair and using the charm effortlessly. George smiles at how easily you complied before throwing on his own hood to cover his fiery hair and whispering, his voice low and thick as honey, “Good thinking.”

As soon as the Grey Lady wandered off, the two of you crept up the stairs and peeked through the giant set of wooden doors. The Reception Hall was startlingly empty. The faint sounds of orchestral music looked from beyond the Great Hall’s doors. The display of House Points seemed to have eyes on your back, judging you for your unapproved adventure. You tried not to dwell on the guilt, knowing Gryffindor’s house points would suffer greatly if you get caught.

“Look at that, not a soul in sight. Come on, then. Let’s not waste our luck.”

With the help of Alohomora, the two of you found yourselves in the tiny, dusty space Filch called his office. The walls were lined with cupboards. Knowing the twins had found the Maurader’s map in here their first year, you were sure more extravagant enchantments were stuck inside those drawers, collecting dust and begging to be used. Feeling safe now, you took off your charm and let George see your excitement. He matched your smile and immediately joined you at your side to start sifting through anything and everything.

“Ack!” You let out a squeak and jumped back from the second drawer.

George leaned over you and then laughed at the sight. “Dead rat? Probably lots of those. Ms. Norris does live here too, ya know.”

“Lovely.”

After a few more drawers, you found the familiar, warm brown briefcase the twins had been keeping their experimental treats in. “George, I’ve got them, now we can get the hell out of here.”

“Hold on, look at these!”

“George, really. We should take our winnings and go before someone-“ but the words die on your lips when George pulled the twisted chains of two lockers out of the drawer.

“Lumos,” he whispered to better show off the intricate floral pattern imprinted in the metal. “Think we should have a little reward for our venture, don’t you?”

“I agreed to help you find your treats, but stealing things that aren’t yours, Weasley-“

“Hush. You sound like a Ravenclaw. Always doing things by the book. Pft. Live a little, love.”

Completely derailed and flustered by his nickname for you, you didn’t have the mind to protest him further. Though looking back, you really wish you had. He untangled the lockets and bestowed one upon himself before inching closer to you.

“Be careful!” You whisper yelled. “What if it’s enchanted? Filch must have confiscated them for a reason!”

“Like he stole our taffies for no good reason?”

“He had reason. First years with ten-ton tongues were enough to justify them being taken.”

George flicked open the locket to study it. “Just a compass. Nothing evil about it.”

“Hmph. Well. Fine. I guess. . It would be nice to have a little souvenir.”

“See?“ He gently put the chain around your neck and took a step back, finally letting you breathe only to steal the air right back out of your lungs with his words, “So beautiful.”

The tiny office now felt unbearable. Earlier, you had confessed your feelings for him in not so many words. Whether or not he reciprocated, you weren’t sure. George hadn’t really had much time to respond or even take in your confession before your friends had come back. Since then, you had easily fallen into your usual pattern of playful pranking and chatter. It was easy to forget about your confession until his alluring compliment. The word had fallen off his lips almost breathlessly, a sultry whisper that had your mind alight and playing the moment over in your head.

Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful…

It was all you could think about. Your heart ticked nervously and your skin went warm. Did he really think you were beautiful, or was this just the typical Weasley charm the boys often used on girls, and even professors to get people to do things they wouldn’t normally do. You wouldn’t call the twins manipulative, they just... Okay, they could be quite manipulative, but never with malicious intent. Flirting as a way of buttering people up wasn’t exactly a bad thing. You surely didn’t complain when they used their charm on you.

But that was before you had confessed your feelings to George. If Fred had been the one to say it, the word would have rolled off your back like water without a second thought. George, however, was now in the know of the feelings you had been harboring. You almost felt betrayed in a way that he would whisper a sweet nothing like that so carelessly after knowing where your heart lies. Did he just not care? Had he forgotten in the moment? Or was it somehow possible that he returned your feelings and this flirting was now more meaningful than his usual antics?

“We should go,” you said rather stiffly, immediately hating how rude it came off. In your rush out of the office, you forgot how careful you two had to be going in and found yourself bursting into the Reception Hall without even trying to be quiet. “We should get this to safe keeping and then we can do something that’s actually fun.”

“And what might you have in mind?” Professor McGonagall called out from across the hall. She was standing with her husband who had traveled to the castle for the night to accompany her to the ball. His eyes were soft and kind, but he also had an all-knowing smile that was thrown your way. He patted Minerva on top of her hand that he had been holding and then excused himself back to the festivities, letting his wife deal with her troublesome students.

“I-uh.” The briefcase of candies in your hands suddenly felt hot and heavy.

George’s hand landed on your shoulders as he dipped down to whisper right by your ear. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Piss off-,” you uttered back, elbowing him in the stomach rather ungraciously.

“I will take that.” And with the wave of her wand, McGonagall had the case of candies in her hands. “I would send the two of you back to the common room, but it sounds as though I shouldn’t trust you to stay there until the Yule Ball is over.”

“Professor, we-“

“Ten points from each of you for rummaging around Mr. Filch’s office. And since I think it best I keep an eye on you for the rest of the evening... “ She pointed her wand at you with a curt wave. The fabric of your clothes began to wiggle and tickle your skin, swishing all around and changing color until you ended up in a long ivory gown with golden embroidery. George’s clothes were next to change into an ivory button down with a deep red vest decorated in gold buttons, the same gold as your dress. One final silent wave of her wand, this stroke alarmingly familiar… it was Expelliarmus. Both of your wands floated into her open palm.

That night, George had been wearing his only school robe that was still long enough after his recent growth spurt. He couldn’t afford to lose it, in the most literal sense since the price of new robes had gone up greatly over the holiday season and all of his money had gone toward Fred's dress robes for the ball. The loss of that set was detrimental, even in exchange for these fancy clothes. “But, our robes. .”

“If you should wish to have your school robes and wands back before classes, I suggest you find me after the ball. Now, don’t dawdle. In you go.”

Jokingly matching your professor’s air of elegance, George spoke in as proper of a tone he could muster, “If you insist, Professor, but I must have a word with my partner first.”

“Do not make me come looking for you, Mr. Weasley.”

As soon as McGonagall exited into the Great Hall, George’s serious face turned into a bright and mischievous grin, as if you hadn’t just been caught by your Head of House. He dipped into a regal bow and held out a hand to you

Voice still posh and dropping even lower, George kissed your hand and spoke, “It seems as though fate has aligned-“

“Why are you still talking like that?” You giggled.

“Because it’s fun. You must know what fun is, shall I remind you?” Then he was pulling you in close and twirling you in circles, humming along to the faint music coming from behind the grand doors.

“I think,” you managed out between laughs, “-this is exactly what McGonagall meant when she said not to dawdle.” With all you might, you dragged the boy to the doors where he planted his feet and refused to move another inch. “George, what are you doing now?”

“We can’t go in there, silly. I haven’t even asked you yet.”

Those pesky nerves were bubbling back. You tried to swallow them down. “You’re ridiculous. We’re here. McGonagall’s forced us into these clothes. You don’t have to ask at this point. We aren’t- it’s not like we’re going by choice, I mean-“

Ignoring your endearing mumbling, George gently took your chin to make your eyes meet his as he asked, “Will you do me the honors of being the only bloke you dance with at the Yule Ball?”

“As long as you promise to crash us into all the Slytherin couples with your atrocious leading.”

“That’s a given.” He held out his arm for you to hold onto before walking you into the Great Hall where you were very fashionably late.

Decorated from enchanted ceilings all the way down to sparkling floors, the Great Hall was completely transformed into a winter wonderland. The ceiling was cloudy with snowflakes trickling down, sadly designed to never fall. It was always astonishing how the magic encapsulated the exact look of the weather, but never the temperature. Perhaps the frigid cold of the snow would have been welcome tonight because the hall was surprisingly warm from all the bodies dancing about.

The four center tables had vanished in favor of a large dance floor. The platform professors sat at was being used as a stage for a live band that was currently playing a jovial waltz. The corners of the hall were filled with refreshment tables and smaller, more personal round tables for groups to have a break from the excitement.

You scanned the room for your friends but immediately regretted doing so when your eyes landed on Lee Jordan and Alicia Spinnet. It seemed you had witnessed a rather intimate moment of Lee kissing Alicia’s knuckles, and then the back of her hand, and then her inner wrist, and then. . You quickly looked away, clearing your throat.

“You’ve got to be joking,” George muttered to himself. He was patting down his vest and dress pants. Turning his pockets inside out, he was presented with piles of sand. “It seems McGonagall transfigured away the dungbombs and fireworks as well.”

“Oh no,” you replied sarcastically, “How ever will we survive?”

“I suppose we will have to dance to pass the time,” George played along as he dragged you to the center of the hall. Once there, he adjusted the hold on your hand to one where your fingers were interlocking. While many other dance partners were doing the same, it still felt strikingly intimate, even more so when his other hand landed on your hip to draw you in close. You lightly placed your free one on his shoulder, mimicking a very cordial and proper stance.

You weren’t able to maintain your posture long, because George whizzed across the dance floor at an alarming speed. Your hand had slipped from the feather of a touch in his shoulder down to his bicep where you clung on for dear life. His hand was meant to stay on your hip had snaked to the small of your back, making it much easier to swing you to and fro. How he had managed to step on other couples’ toes but not your own was a mystery.

Actually, it was probably deliberate considering two of George’s victims had been a Slytherin boy from your year and a boy from Beauxbatons that had both previously asked you to accompany them. The true mystery was how George managed to find out who exactly you had turned down so that he could target them.

Then you were being pulled to him to avoid your backside slamming to the Durmstrang Headmaster. There had been no warning, so you stubbled into George ungracefully with your cheek pressing into his chest as you let out a string of bubbly, nervous laughter. The hand on the small of your back had drifted all the way to your opposite hip now, holding you up, but also holding you so tightly against him that you had nowhere to go. Not that you could step back even if you wanted to with your faulty feet.

“S’cuse us,” George slyly offered to the terrifying man as he brisked you off in another direction.

“Sorry!” You had to call to the man over your shoulder since George had you gone in a flash.

George mumbled only for you to hear, “No need to apologize to him. You never actually ran into him. I know what I’m doing.”

“Maybe so, but we did give him a heart attack. And if you’re so aware of your actions, then why did you nearly just have me expelled?”

“All a ploy to get you closer to me.” His hand squeezed your hip for emphasis. “See? I can be quite romantic.”

“Falling into you is hardly romantic.”

“Oh, so you’re falling for me?”

“Did I not already make that obvious?” You had planned to play the words off as a joke, but George’s stiff reaction made it difficult. The tension only worsened when you found yourself at a standstill in the middle of the dance floor. George let go of your hip. You tried to escape your interlocked hands, but George tightened his grip, not letting you step too far away.

“We should talk about that,” George rarely sounded as serious as he did now, and the times when he had were never for good reason.

You winced at his tone. It was clear to you now that George didn’t feel the same. All the dancing and touching, it was all just in good fun. Nothing he ever did was meant to be analyzed. There was no reading between the lines. You were foolish to even try.

“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry to bring it up. I was only joking.” But the tightening feeling in your throat set in. It broke your heart to lie.

“You responded too quick to be joking, and besides, I-“

“Please, forget it. And forget what I said earlier,” Your voice diminished to nearly a whisper and you looked down at your feet lamely. “-I didn’t mean it, okay? Let’s just go back to having fun.”

George finally released your hand so that he could cup your face on both sides, forcing you to look back up at him. His brows softly pulled together. There was even a hint of a frown across his lips, a very foreign look on the prankster. “You’re an awful liar.”

“I’m not-“ you choked on your words, trying to hold back the sobs bubbling in your throat. “Just dance with me, George.”

“Ridiculous,” he huffed in disbelief. His hand wrapped around your upper arm to guide you toward the courtyard adjacent to the hall. You were still fighting the tears, refusing to let anyone see how much of a mess you truly were.

“You’re here! Brilliant!” Fred popped up just before the two of you made it out, placing both his hands on George’s shoulders to shake him in excitement. This in turn caused George to let you go, so you were thankful for Fred's intrusion. “Let me guess, you saw him run out to the courtyard too? Thinks he’s sneaky, that one. Well, he can’t escape all of us, eh?”

Fred and George did not disagree often, but this was one of those rare times George was putting his foot down. “This isn’t the time, mate.”

“This is the perfect time! What’s he gonna do to us with all these people as witnesses? Bagman doesn’t have the balls to pull something here.”

The name seemed to change George’s demeanor. He glanced at you to gauge your reaction. You knew of the antics Ludo Bagman pulled on the twins at the World Cup. This would be the perfect time to approach him, Fred wasn’t wrong. He just had absolute shite timing.

“Let’s go get his arse,” you proclaimed, jumping at the opportunity to avoid the awkward ‘I’m just not that into you’ conversation that George was no doubt planning to have with you out in that courtyard.

Fred’s grin spread across his face wildly. “Oh, how lucky Georgie is to have you. Angelina is livid I’m doing this. Knew I should have asked you as my date instead. And you clean up nicely too, I mean, look at you two.” And Fred did take a moment to give your dress a proper once over. His eyes landed on the locket around your neck and then flickered to the matching one his brother was sporting. “Now where in Merlin did you two nick those?”

Normally, George would jump at the opportunity to brag, but he was being oddly quiet. You spoke up in his place, “Filch’s office. McGonagall caught us stealing back your candies. She took those, but I don’t think she knew about these. . .”

Fred whistled lowly, clearly impressed, “You two have been busy. And I’ve just been here trying to dance like a babbling, bumbling, baboon!” His McGonagall impression was getting quite good.

You promptly followed Fred toward the courtyard. George seemed to drag his feet behind you. Eventually, you made it to the array of carriages the guests had arrived in that evening. A few groups of people were scattered about, chatting in the fresh air. Goosebumps instantly littered your arms and shoulders, but you welcomed the sensation. It was like jumping in a cold shower after that heated moment between you and George.

Fred wasted no time approaching his enemy with his arms raised in a faux welcoming stance. “I don’t believe my eyes! If it isn’t Ludo Bagman, old friend. How have you been?”

Bagman had been talking to an older, gruff-looking wizard you did not know. They both examined Fred quizzically, intrigued that a student would approach them in such a way. You moved to stand beside Fred, but George had stepped in first, crossing his arms and smiling at the two older wizards as if that alone was a threat. And it seemed to come across that way with how painfully obvious it was that his smile was forced.

George was quick to join in on Fred’s jovial greetings as well, “It’s been so long since we’ve seen you. When was our last chat? Remind me, Fred.”

“Oh, George, I do believe the last time we saw Ludo was during the Quidditch World Cup. You remember, don’t you?”

“Ah! Yes! I remember that night quite well. We won a pretty hefty bet, didn’t we, Fred?”

“That we did, George. That we did. Say, George, we still haven’t gotten the money from that, have we?”

“You would have been paid if you didn’t cheat,” Ludo sneered.

“We didn’t cheat,” George said through his teeth, immediately offended that he would even need to defend their honor against such a statement.

“You just want to keep the money for yourself,” Fred threw in offense.

Bagman’s eyes narrowed. “If the Weasley clan was known for their integrity, perhaps I would take you at your word. Now, quit wasting my time with this.” He looked to his companion and then nodded for the doors. They both turned to leave. Fred reached into his pocket for his wand, but you caught his wrist.

“Snape,” you whispered as the professor sauntered out into the courtyard.

“Bastard,” Fred murmured. You dropped his wrist, assuming he would put away his wand so as to not draw suspicion. Instead, Fred lifted his wrist and cast the disillusionment charm on himself. The motion was automatic at the mention of Snape. All you could hear was his hushed whisper. “What are you two doing? Let’s go before he questions us.”

George met your terrified eyes, looking rather pale himself. McGonagall had taken your wands. It seemed as though you were going to have to face Snape head-on.

“Fuck it,” George whispered as he grabbed you yet again, heaving you into the nearest carriage. You scrambled in with George following so close behind that he was nearly on top of you. The skirt of your dress had twisted and risen from all the movement. George planted himself on the bench next to you, mumbling apologies for nearly squashing you.

“How the hell are we-“

“Whisper!” George uttered. No wand, no ability to cast muffalo. The two of you would have to wait this out in silence. He pressed his ear to the side of the carriage and then looked very alarmed as he whispered, “Can hear him talking with Bagman and that other piece of muck.”

You tried smoothing down your skirt, but it was tangled horribly underneath you. Instead of offering to help or apologizing for the inconvenience, George merely followed the frantic movement of your hands. His eyes lingered over your exposed knee.

The sheer stupidity of your night was hitting you hard. Your jaw clenched in annoyance. If you hadn’t followed Fred to the courtyard, if you hadn’t made that stupid comment while dancing, if you hadn’t gone with George to Filch’s office, if you had never admitted you wanted to go to the bloody ball with him in the first place. .

“Lift yourself up,” he whispered, elbowing your arm.

You pouted in confusion, but gently lifted yourself up with both palms pressed into the bench of the carriage. George swiftly smoothed the fabric under you, meaning his hands had to skim over your backside and underneath you. Your breath caught in your throat at how nonchalant he acted. Once the underneath was straightened out, he pulled down the top to finally hid your exposed knee.

“Better?"

“You should warn a girl before grabbing her arse, Weasley.”

“I only did it so you’d stop fidgeting. Snape will know someone is in here if the cart is shaking.”

Any response you might have had died on your lips. Images of what sort of actions would make the carriage shake flashed across your mind. Your face felt uncomfortably hot, embarrassed that you couldn’t control the thoughts you were having about your best friend whilst sitting right next to him.

“Y/N,” his voice was soft and sincere, only making you feel more guilty for your own track mind. “I really should tell you-“

“Save it,” you begged. Merlin, you couldn’t hear the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech while you were shamefully thinking of making the carriage rock. You would die of embarrassment if he turned you down at this very moment.

“I don’t want to save it,” he seethed. “Don’t know where you got the bloody impression that I’m going to turn you down but damn it, I said I would have been the first to ask you if I had the money for robes. I didn’t mean that in a platonic way. Thought that much was obvious.”

He sounded cross with you, but his words were a confession of sorts. You studied his features. His hands were opening and closing. He was biting the inside of his cheeks. His eyes couldn’t meet yours for more than half a second before darting to the floor of the carriage.

“You like me,” you whispered in awe.

George didn’t seem to notice you shift closer, too lost in his own demise. “Look, I know I’m a fucking idiot. You said you wanted a night of fun and dancing, the ball gets dropped into our lap perfectly, and I go and ruin it by getting you stuck in a carriage. I’ve been told my whole life I don’t know when to quit. It didn’t mean shite to me until now that it’s affecting you. I got us into this. I should have told Fred to bugger off, but he and I just feed off each other’s insanity and-“

Your hands guided his face toward you so your lips could feverishly crash into him. From the shock of your hold, George’s hands wrapped around your wrists almost like he might pull you off. His entire body shivered from the feeling of your lips over his. It was heated and messy right from the start because his mouth had been open from talking.

George melted into you, matching your fever and even raising the stakes by taking your bottom lip between his teeth. He was being gentle, playful even, but it still had your arse lifting off the bench and rolling onto your knee so you could lean in further to his pull. His hands moved in quick now that the opportunity arose. They trailed down your back, smoothing the dress over your backside much slower this time, deliberately stroking to get their fill before reaching the underneath of your thighs where his fingers shamelessly pressed into your soft flesh to pull you closer until you were dragged onto his lap.

You broke away to gasp with your hands landing on his shoulders to steady yourself. His mouth went for your exposed collarbone, kissing from one shoulder to the next and swiping the chain of your new locket out of the way to thoroughly get every inch of skin. You thought he would go for your neck next, but instead, his lips traveled down toward the exposing, sweetheart neckline of your dress.

The door to the carriage swung open on your right. Professor Snape glared at the two of you. George had not removed his hands from your waist, so you just smiled sheepishly at your potions professor from George’s lap.

“What on earth do you think you two are doing? Out. Now.”

Rather reluctantly despite the ridicule, George helped you off of him so the two of you could crawl out of the carriage. As soon as your feet were on solid ground, Snape was firing off punishments.

“Thirty points from each of you. A week’s detention with Hagrid tending to the Forbidden Forest should be enough to make you regret this awful choice you’ve made. Back to the Great Hall, now.”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop the laughter threatening to burst out and double your detentions. Snape keenly watched the two of you drag your feet back to the ball. “Hands to yourself, Weasley,” he drones when George had tried to put his hand on the small of your back to guide you. Once the two of you were heading inside, Snape moved to the next carriage to end a different couple’s impromptu snog session.

“That was horrifying,” you grimaced at the thought of facing Snape in your next class.

“Was my kissing that bad?” George mused.

You playfully slapped his chest, “Sod off. You know what I meant. I’ll never be able to look Snape in the eye again.”

“I’m sure he’s witnessed worse. Hell, he probably is witnessing worse as we speak. The others were in their carriages far longer than we were.”

And yet George still managed to look like a complete mess. His lips were bright red, matching the flush he still wore on his cheeks. His hair was staticky and wild, not at all fitting for the ball you were walking back into. You waved him over, insisting, “Come ‘ere. You can’t go back there looking like this.”

A lazy smile plastered across George’s rosy cheeks. His eyes shamelessly studied your serious look of concentration as you tried to smooth down his wild locks. “Think people are gonna know what we did no matter how long you play with my hair.”

His fingers swiped over your collarbone, pressing harder on the red, sensitive spots that were definitely going to bruise later. A shiver ran down your back. You would have to remember to down a healing potion tonight that way you didn’t wake up and go about your day tomorrow, forgetting how scandalous you looked.

“Quit making them worse.” You smacked his hand away. “I can’t believe you did that while I’m stuck in this stupid dress with no robes to hide it. You’re devious.”

“You’re the one who started it,” George challenged.

“Must all your comebacks be childish?”

“You find them endearing,” he teased. “Merlin, can’t believe we could have been doing that ages ago. Do you think McGonagall would notice if we slipped back to the common room to make up for lost time?”

“I’m not taking any chances while she still has my wand. Besides, we hardly got to dance!” You took his hand and pulled him into the hall. “There are more Slytherins that need to be run into.”

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #Yule ball #my writings #harry potter main series #George is so fun to write for because I feel like tender more serious moments can happen and he is still in character #but with Fred I just can’t take him seriously #still love Freddie too though don’t get me wrong #George had just always had my heart

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