#fred and George weasley

[cherry-pop-elf]

Snuggle Company

Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Can be read as platonic ((because platonic love is valid!))

Summary: Umbridge has been giving everyone nightmares. You especially, given she is well aware how close you are to the twins. Has you paranoid she will hurt you in your sleep. So, who better to keep you safe than the twins themselves?

Warnings: Anxiety, Umbridge, stress, sleepy snuggles, and it’s very short 😣 Going through ALOT right now. Pls forgive me

Here you were again. Standing just outside the dorm doors that belonged to the seventh year boys. A pair of boys would be in there that you needed. Needed badly, because you had yet another nightmare. A nightmare about her.

You worried they would be getting annoyed by this. By you waking them up again, just to climb into bed with them. Would it be better that you just straight up moved in there with them? Would the other students in their dorm be annoyed by your presence? This wasn’t your assigned bedroom after all.

You tried to power through those worrying thoughts, as you pushed the door open. You were too scared of Umbridge to give a care about what others thought. She hated you. Hated you because those twins liked you. You were the enemy by association.

You would tip toe across the room, and would hug yourself tighter. Just worried about being a burden, and a bother. Something she would often say you were. Just attacking your insecurities. She was good at that. She was good at making people hurt. Oh she was damn good at hurting people, and getting away with it.

Finally, you reached the familiar bed. Fred’s bed. Well, Fred and George’s bed. They never really out grew sharing a bed. George’s ended up being a make shift work shop table for their inventions. You found it utterly adorable how they would hold each other. They had a special bond. Magic tended to play a heavy role in that, but you still found it sweet. How that no matter how old they get they would still make sure to be there for each other. No matter what. Was comforting to see that guys don’t always worry about masculinity.

“Psst….Guys-“ You gently shook George’s shoulder, as you tried to wake them up. Didn’t want to wake the other students up, but you also didn’t want to just climb into bed either. Could startle them. Or worse. They didn’t want you to, and you invaded their personal bubble. Consent is important after all.

“Hm-?” George would rub at his eyes, while Fred yawned. They were annoyed as hell, until they saw it was you who bothered them. George gave a comforting smile, before scooting away from his twin. Fred, in turn, lifted the blanket up. You gave a sigh in relief, before climbing between them. Snuggled safely between them both.

“Thanks.” You whispered, as they would wrap their arms around you. A tangled of limbs, just like that. Was so warm. So warm, and safe. No one could get to you now. Safe between a pair of tricksters. Just like that. The smell of fire crackers, and cinnamon. That was such a comforting scent to you. Baked goods, and fire.

“No pink toads will get you-“ “Not on our watch.” The twins would tease you, as they gave you a tight squeeze. A reminder that they weren’t going anywhere. Not without you, at the very least. That had you smile, and feel a weight lift off your body. Safe. Safe again.

“We’ve got plans for her. Don’t worry.” George would reassure you, as he would nuzzle into the back of your neck. Enjoying the warmth you gave him, as his arm reached over to keep physical touch with Fred. The two most important people he has, right in his arms.

“And it’s going to be utterly spectacular. Just you wait and see.” Fred would echo, as he rested his head on yours. Forcing your nose into his neck, as his arm did the same thing. Keeping George close, as you were all safely hidden under the blanket.

“Promise.” They would share, as you were already drifting to sleep. Safe in their strong arms, and knowing you’ll be safe by morning all the same. No scary toads to haunt your dreams. Just a pair of pranksters to defend you. No matter what.

Safe snuggles. What a dream come true.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

A Christmas Gift | G.W.

“That's what happens when you love someone,” George replied, smiling. “You want to protect them from anything that might hurt them, even if you know you can't.”

feat. George Weasley x fem!reader

SUMMARY: You go to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes to pick out a Christmas gift for your ailing little brother, who adored the shop (and the twins) before he became too ill to go. You find a gift and so much more than you ever dreamed of.

CW: this is really emotional, i’m sorry, but i pinky promise that it has a happyish ending. fred is dead, grief, hurt/comfort, hospital visits, sick sibling/children, some swearing, but also some fun and lightheartedness, plenty of christmasy fluff, first kisses

AN: last Christmas fic of the season!

The early morning snow buffeted at your back as you stepped into Weasely Wizard Wheezes. The store had just opened, you saw someone turn the sign as you finished your breakfast at the Three Broomsticks, but you wanted to beat the holiday rush so you could really take your time.

The smell of cinnamon and woodsmoke, plastic toys and what could only be described as joy, welcomed you inside. An enormous Christmas tree hung upside down from the ceiling, decorated in orange, purple, and gold, with handmade ornaments over every branch and popcorn strings strewn around it. Every shelf was stocked and festively decorated, and soft Christmas music played from the speakers.

You stopped in the doorway, tears welling in your eyes. Your brother would love this. You had hoped that he’d be having a good day today, that maybe, by some miracle, he’d be well enough to come with you. But he’d spiked a fever late last night, and was going in for some imaging today to ensure he hadn’t caught pneumonia…again.

“Morning,” a voice called to you, and you looked up, hastily wiping tears on your sleeve. George Weasley, a man you’d never met but would recognize anywhere, was halfway down the spiral staircase, a cup of coffee in hand. He was dressed in the iconic pinstripe suit, his copper hair a little longer than the last time you’d seen him two years prior, not that he’d remember.

The only reason you remembered was because of your brothers obsession with the Weasley twins. He’d asked to have his hair cut and dyed orange that same afternoon.

More tears welled up, and you cursed yourself, turning away to hide your face. “I’m sorry,” you sniffled, trying to take a deep breath. “I promise I’m not insane.”

You heard him move the rest of the way down the stairs, then approach you, his tall frame taking him across the store in a few strides. He had a bright purple handkerchief in his hand, the triple W embroidered on the corner.

“That’s okay, we like a little insanity around here. What’s your name?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Y/n.” You accepted the handkerchief with a watery smile and dabbed your eyes.

“George. Are you alright, y/n?” he asked.

You sighed, twisting the fabric in your hands. “The holiday’s are just hard.”

He nodded, his jaw flexing, eyes averting from your face to the floor. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rougher than it had been a moment before. You noticed then the dark circles under his eyes, the air of heaviness around his shoulders. “Can I help you find something?” he asked, pivoting quickly.

“Yes, actually. I’m, uh, looking for a gift for my little brother. But he—it has to be something he can play with in bed. Nothing too loud or messy.” Your heart ached as you said it, knowing he would actually love something loud, messy, destructive, as little boys do, but such things weren’t allowed at St. Mungo’s.

George raised an eyebrow. “Strict parents?”

You shook your head, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “He’s in hospital,” you murmured, hating saying the words aloud.

George’s face fell. “Oh—Merlin, I’m really sorry.”

A flicker of understanding passed between you, your broken hearts beating at the same rhythm for a moment. You knew about the death of his twin, Fred, everyone did, and now he knew your pain as well. That knowledge weaved an invisible string of connection between you, forged in empathy.

“We can absolutely find something for him,” George said, his voice painfully sincere. He offered you his arm and you accepted, needing a bit of steadiness. “What kind of things does he like?”

You started to walk through the store, looking around the towering shelves, at a bit of a loss. “Well, he loves Whizz-bangs, and your Pyrotechtrix.”

George smiled, chuckling to himself. “Fun, but not exactly suitable for a hospital.”

“Exactly. But honestly, anything you recommended, he’d absolutely adore, so long as I told him you recommended it.”

“Oh yeah?” George raised an eyebrow, glancing down at you.

Saints, he’s handsome.

“Yeah, he’s a big fan. He used to beg us to stop in every time we came to Diagon Alley so he could watch your demonstrations.”

George’s smile widened, a flush creeping up his neck. “Well, ah, that’s really—” he scratched the back of his head, clearly flustered by the revelation. “That’s very kind,” he managed with a breathy chuckle.

The door jingled as another customer came in and you tensed, George’s eye flicking towards the new customer, then back down to you.

You moved to slip your arm from his. “I can look around, you go ahead—”

“Oi, Ron!” George shouted, a hand cupped around his mouth, his arm tightening around yours so you stayed put.

“What? I’m sorting inventory!” Ron Weasley shouted back, appearing from the back of the store with arms full of boxes. His eyes quickly scanned over you, your joined arms, then back to George, who was nodding his head towards the door. “Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!” Ron turned greeted the customer, dropping the boxes where he stood.

You chuckled, leaning a bit closer to George, grateful that he didn’t abandon you.

“You’re my first priority today,” he murmured to you, close enough that you could smell his amber cologne, and you felt your anxiety unspool for the first time in weeks. For this one thing, this small, Christmas gift hunt, you weren’t alone.

You spent the rest of the morning with George, wandering through aisle after aisle as he talked you through every product you showed an interest in. At first, he seemed reluctant to talk about products with stories tied to Fred, like prodding a sore wound, but eventually he was telling story after story, grinning and laughing at the memories of their countless antics.

He encouraged you to share about your brother as well, and by the end, you were both in stitches from laughing, cheeks sore and eyes watery with tears. It warmed your heart to see him light up at the his brother’s memory, to see the love between them still very much burning, and soothed a bit of your fear.

No matter what happened, the love and the memories would remain.

You finally settled on an Aviatomobile and a few muggle magic tricks, nothing explosive, sticky, or illness-causing. George carried the items to the counter, setting them gently on surface, but hesitated when he reached for the register.

He turned, grabbing a gift box from beneath the counter. Carefully, he wrapped each item in branded tissue paper and nestled them into the box, then rearranged them once, then twice, before finally placing the lid and tying an orange bow around it. Then, he grabbed one of the paper ornaments from the counter, where kids could write little messages or drawings to hang on the gravity-defying Christmas tree, and scribbled something on it before securing it to the bow.

“There we go,” he said, pushing it towards you with a sheepish smile.

You reached for you wallet. “How much do I—”

He shook his head, waving you off. “It’s on me. Least I can do for an avid supporter.”

Tears burned behind your eyes again, caught off guard by his generosity. “George, I can’t—”

“Please, just—let me do this for your brother.” George’s eyes held yours, soft around the corners. “It’s what Fred would do.”

You nodded, unable to speak through the lump in your throat.

“Would you want to, uh, maybe get a drink later? Or coffee?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck, freckled cheeks flushing pink.

You smiled, your heart flipping in your chest. “I’d love to. We could get ice cream at Fortescue's?” You offered.

He smiled back. “Perfect. 7 o’clock?”

“Perfect,” you repeated, fighting a nervous giggle. “I’ll see you later, then.” You hefted the box in your arms and waved goodbye, hurrying out before you said anything embarrassing, or melted into a puddle of goo on the floor.

Halfway down the street, you finally glanced at the paper ornament George attached to the gift.

Sorry, mate. No explosive’s. Sister’s orders. But I’ve got a stash in the back waiting for you when you’re ready. Merry Christmas. - GW

You were fizzing with excitement as you approached the ice cream shop, a soft flurry of snowflakes dancing int the twinkle lights strew across Diagon Alley. Vendors were at every corner, selling steaming beverages, candied nuts, and fried dough. Shoppers wandered from glowing door to glowing door, bundled in thick coats and arms laden with bags. A choir sang Christmas carols on the steps of Gringotts, toads wearing Santa hats cradled in their arms, and you paused to listen while they sang “Carol of the Bells”, trying to collect your scattered mind.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about George for a moment, so wound up that you started getting ready three hours early for a simple ice cream date. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so giddy, so hopeful.

“I like this song,” a familiar voice murmured in your ear and you looked up, finding George standing beside you watching the carolers, the lights reflecting in his brown eyes. He was dressed in a brown wool coat with a Gryffindor scarf around his neck, a white, cable knit sweater and jeans underneath, patches on the knees.

“Me too,” you replied, biting your lips to stop the grin threatening to rise. “How was your day?”

“Chaos. I left Ron to deal with the stragglers. We were supposed to close around six…” he trailed off, his eyes catching on a group of wizards. You followed his eye, and were appalled to find them muttering and pointing at him. And when you looked around, you noticed several groups were doing the same.

Instinctively, you moved closer to him, as if you could shield him somehow.

His fingers twined with yours, warm and calloused. “It’s alright,” he said, turning you to face him. “M’used to it.”

“It’s not alright,” you said, raising your voice and directing a pointed glare at the noisy folks. “It’s rude!”

He chuckled, tugging you away from the carolers. “Easy, love. It doesn’t bother me much anymore. Don’t give them any of your attention.”

You sighed, falling into step beside him, hands still clasped together. “I’m sorry they treat you like that,” you said, glaring daggers at anyone that even glanced in his direction while you walked towards Fortescue's.

“It was worse when we first reopened the shop.” His thumb swiped back and forth across yours, soothing the irritation itching under your skin. “They would come in just to get a look at me. Like my grief was some kind of spectator sport.”

“I can’t imagine having that kind of loss broadcast to the entire world,” you said, glancing at a newspaper stand plastered in the Daily Prophet.

“It’s inhumane,” he replied, stopping in front of the ice cream shop. “But, I’m grateful for it too.”

You raised an eyebrow, facing him in the warm glow of the window.

“Everyone knows how amazing he was,” he murmured, his voice thickening with emotion. He looked down at your joined hands, playing with your fingers. “He’s a hero.”

You squeezed his hand, prompting him to look up at you. “So are you, George," you said, inflecting as much sincerity as you could into your voice. "Y’know, I was there that day, when you and Fred left Hogwarts?”

His eyes widened. “You were?”

You nodded. “I was two years under you, we wouldn’t have crossed paths,” you said, trying to assuage the needless guilt that crossed his face. “But I’ll never forget that moment, watching you guys reclaim the magic that makes Hogwarts, well, Hogwarts. You inspired all of us left behind.”

He gave you a sad smile, his eyes shiny with unshed tears, and brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing a kiss across them. “Thank you for telling me that,” he whispered. “You didn’t get burned, did you?” He asked, worry suddenly creasing his brow.

You giggled. “No, no. No one was hurt besides Umbridge's ego.”

He exhaled, flashing a relieved smile. “Okay, good. Because that would have been a terrible first impression.” He opened the door to the ice cream shop, gesturing for you to step inside.

“My first impression was when you turned Ms. Norris purple during the Halloween feast,” you said, stepping past him and into line, the smell of waffle cones and caramel wafting over you.

George barked a laugh, his head falling back with the force of it, and you smiled. “Better, I suppose.”

“It’s not like I made a great first impression on you, weeping like a sap as soon as I stepped into your store,” you joked, too busy gazing up at his smiling face to notice the line move forward without you.

He shook his head, still chuckling. “No, it was a perfect first impression.”

You ordered your bowls of ice cream, Peppermint Marshmallow Mayhem for George and Gingerbread Dreams for you, and sat at a corner booth by the window, talking about nothing in particular for awhile while you ate.

“So, how’s your brother doing today? You mentioned he had some imaging this afternoon?” George asked, genuine concern creasing his brow.

“He’s doing well, actually. No pneumonia, by Godric’s grace, and his fever broke this afternoon. Still not sure what caused it, but hopefully nothing of concern,” you answered, you heart lifting at his relieved smile.

“Good, I’m really glad to hear that. Now, let me try your ice cream.” He waggled his spoon and you laughed, sliding it towards him. He took the tiniest spoonful, flipping it over to lick it off, and your cheeks warmed at the way his tongue caressed the curve of the spoon.

You knew you were caught when he smirked around the utensil, but he let it slide.

“Here, try mine.” He dug a spoonful out of his bowl, holding it out for you to take a bite with a borderline sinful look in his eye.

“George Weasley,” you teased, shaking your head. “You are such a flirt.”

“Can you blame me? I’m sitting across from my dream woman,” he replied, grinning.

Now your cheeks were really warming, and you leaned forward to take a small bite off the edge of his spoon. Sugary peppermint and creamy marshmallow coated your tongue, and you moaned.

“Good?” he asked, raising a brow.

“Delicious,” you giggled, watching as he ate the rest of the spoonful, and wondered how it would taste on his tongue.

After ice cream, you continued wandering around Diagon Alley, peeking in all the shop windows and sipping warm butter beer, until your noses were pink from the chill, your hair full of glittering snow.

You stopped outside of his shop, the sign flipped to ‘closed’ and only a few lights on inside along with the exterior holiday decor, presumably left on for George.

“I have a confession to make,” he said, stepping a little closer to you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a thrill of excitement pulsing through you. “What?” You asked, picking invisible lint of his lapel just to have something to do with your hands.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I saw you watching the carolers,” he murmured, sliding his glove off and reaching out to cradle your face, his touch gentle, giving you every opportunity to pull away.

You leaned your head into his large palm, gazing up at him, freckled, flushed, and starry-eyed. You’d never seen someone look at you with adoration before, and it made your soul sing.

Instead of saying anything, you rose onto your toes and pressed your lips to his, a quick, airy peck. But when you went to move back, his hand held you in place, lips just barely touching.

“Again,” he breathed, his other hand coming around to rest on your lower back. “Please?”

You gave the tiniest nod, feeling like your heart might burst out of your chest, and his lips connected with yours again in a slow, languid kiss, the taste of ice cream and butter beer and him making your head go a little fuzzy, your right foot popping up behind you as you leaned into his embrace.

His tongue caressed the seam of your mouth, but he didn’t push further, just a small tease before winding the kiss down until it ended the way it started, with a few barely-there pecks in reluctant departure.

You sighed against him, lowering back onto flat feet, and he smiled, drawing you into his chest for hug. You slipped you arms under his coat, feeling the softness of his sweater and the warmth of his body envelop you.

“Thank you for this,” you murmured. “I really, really needed it.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tight around your body. “So did I. Can we do it again tomorrow? Breakfast? Sunrise picnic?”

You chuckled, tilting your chin up to rest on his sternum. “Breakfast sounds great.”

George beamed, dropping a warm kiss to the frozen tip of your nose. “I’ll pick you up at nine?”

“It’s a date.” You stole one last kiss before slipping away, practically skipping.

You and George saw each other every day for the next week, whether it was to wander around Diagon Alley, looking at the lights and festivities, or grabbing a quick cup of tea between busy shifts. Neither of you could stand being apart for more than a few hours at a time.

Tonight, George invited you to his flat for dinner and muggle Christmas films, and you were dressed in the ugliest Christmas sweater you could find. With a timid hand, you knocked on his door.

It opened under you fist, revealing George on the other side, wearing a maroon sweater with a giant ‘G’ on the front of it and a sauce splattered apron.

“Hey, love.” He tugged you inside, pressing an eager kiss to your lips before ushering you down the hall, his deft fingers unraveling your scarf from your neck and peeling the coat from your shoulders. You laughed at his haste, spinning and hopping as he removed your boots. He stopped only when he finally saw your sweater. “Oh, darling. You look ravishing.” His hands fell to your waist and he pulled you into his chest, a mischievous grin on his face. “Very fashion forward.”

“Thank you, baby,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. You hadn’t called him that before, but it just rolled right off your tongue, natural as breathing.

He loosed a pleased hum, leaning forward to capture your lips in another, slower kiss. “Like hearin’ you call me baby,” he mumbled against your mouth.

The oven beeped loudly, startling you both.

“Hungry?” He asked with a shy smile.

“Starved.”

He showed you to the dining room, a round table with a vase of flowers at the center, candles strewn on every surface. He pulled a chair out for you and you sat, accepting a kiss on the cheek before he dashed back into the kitchen.

You looked around, having been too caught up in his frantic greeting to take in the space. The rest of the flat was sparsely decorated, purely functional, besides a sagging bookshelf in the living room, and a few photos along the hallway. Not a Christmas decoration was in sight.

George returned with two glasses of wine, the bottle tucked under his arm. “Here we go, a little Pinot Noir for my gorgeous girl.” He set the glasses down then finally sat down in his chair.

“Thank you, baby,” you teased, and he smirked, withdrawing his wand from his apron and waving it towards the kitchen. A moment later, a giant bowl full of pasta, a basket of bread, a salad bowl, and two plates came hovering out of the kitchen, arranging themselves neatly on the table.

“Bon appetite.” He raised his wine glass, a shy little smile on his face, and you raised yours to cheers, so charmed you could cry.

Two hours later, you were curled up on George’s couch, half enjoying Home Alone, half enjoying the feel of each other’s skin under your sweaters, the rich taste of wine on each other’s tongues.

“How come you haven't decorated for Christmas?” You mumbled between languid pecks, his soft lips moving to trail over your jaw.

“Didn't much feel like celebrating this year,” he replied, kissing down your neck, his tongue tracing your pulse.

“And yet here we are, watching corny holiday films,” you chuckled and felt him smile against your neck.

“Things changed.” He lifted his head, capturing your lips in a heavy, open-mouthed kiss that made your blood warm, your heart beat a little quicker in your chest.

Suddenly, something slammed against the window, a frantic scrabbling against glass that had George springing up like something electrocuted him.

“Errol?” George moved toward the window. “No, what the fuck—”

“Oh my god, what are you doing here?!” You cried, jumping up and throwing open the window. Your family owl flew in, landing on the back of the couch. Fear pumped through you and you snatched the letter from his beak, rougher than the poor bird deserved in your panic.

“What is it?” George rested his hands on your hips as you tore it open.

The words on the card made your heart stop.

Mungo’s now, Mum

“George,” you whimpered, sagging against him as terror rocked through you.

He took the letter from your hand and skimmed it. “Go get your coat on, I’ll take you.”

“I—” You were frozen, darkness pulsing at the edges of your vision.

His hands came up to hold your face, shaking you gently. “Honey, we have to go. I’m going to be right here with you, okay? We’re going together. But we have to move now.”

You nodded, clawing through the sludge of fear and clinging to the thread of stability he offered. He helped you into your coat and shooed the owl out, not even bothering to lock up before he was ushering you into his chest.

“Hold onto me,” he ordered, and you did, and suddenly the world was sucked away, a dizzying, horrible tornado of space, and then it spit you back out on the front steps of St. Mungo’s.

“Holy shit,” you gagged, clutching onto George and he held you upright.

“Sorry, love. Never apparated before?” He asked, rubbing your back.

You shook your head.

“Y/n!”

George stiffened, his hands tightening on you, and you looked up.

“Mum!” You cried, rushing to her.

“Oh, hun. I’m sorry to frighten you, he’s okay. Just a scare. I’m so sorry, darling,” she cried, clinging to you.

“Sh, no, it’s alright. I should be here,” you soothed, squeezing your eyes shut to stop the tears from falling. “What happened?”

“He couldn’t breathe, his lungs—pneumonia again,” your mom hiccuped, wiping at her cheeks. “Who’s that?” She asked, looking over your shoulder.

George was were you had left him, hands stuffed in his pockets, his eyes bouncing from you and your mom to the strangers mingling on the sidewalk. You could tell his hackles were raised, some protective instinct roused when he’d been startled by the owl.

You waved him over. “Mum, this is George Weasley. George, this is my mum.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” George said, offering her a hand and a shy smile.

She clutched his hand hard and you both winced. “I-you-Weasley—The George Weasley?” She gasped.

“Just George is fine,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

“Oh my, I just can't believe—”

“Mum, can we go see him now?” You interrupted, anxious to see that he was well yourself. “I promise you'll have a proper introduction later.”

“Yes, of course. This way.” She released George and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the hospital.

George hesitated, until you reached your hand out to him. He immediately threaded your fingers together, falling into step with your frantic mother.

A few moments later, you rushed into your brother's room, finding him upright and smiling, some new tubes in his little nose, but all together looking well.

“Mum, I said to leave her alone!” He argued, crossing his arms over his reindeer pj's.

“Hush you,” you scolded lightly, wrapping him up in a hug and kissing his forehead, noting his lingering fever. “How are you feeling, darling?” You asked, pulling back to hold his face.

“M'okay. They let me have some ice lollies earlier!” He chirped, sticking out his neon blue tongue.

You grinned. “I see, that's excellent.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but then you saw his eyes widen, mouth falling open in shock. You turned to see what he was looking at and realized it was George, who was loitering in the doorway.

“Is that—” your brother started, and George looked up. “Wizard—Wizard Wheezes!”

George’s solemn expression shattered into a wide smile as he stepped into the room, his energy shifting instantly. “Hello, mate! I’m George. Heard your not feeling so good?” George reached out to shake his little hand, and he took it, his fingers dwarfed by George's palm.

“No, no. I'm fine!” Your brother replied, shock melting into excitement. “What are you doing here?”

George glanced down at you. “Your sister has been telling me all about you, and how strong you've been lately,” he said, crouching down beside the bed. “She loves you a lot, y’know?”

You stepped out of the way, tears starting to burn behind your eyes. Your mother slipped her hand into yours, watching the interaction with a hand pressed to her mouth.

“I know, but she worries too much,” your brother answered, and George burst out laughing.

“That's what happens when you love someone,” George replied, smiling. “You want to protect them from anything that might hurt them, even if you know you can't.”

“I’m big like you, I don't need protecting!” He argued.

George nodded, pressing a hand to his chest apologetically. “I can tell. But that doesn't mean they don't want to try anyways. And big guys like us have to protect them in return, yeah?”

Your brother nodded, puffing up his chest. “I'll never let anything happen to my sister. I promise!”

You blew him a kiss, and George gave him a high five.

“That's my buddy. Now, let's see if I've got anything special for heroes like you.” George fished around in his pocket, making dramatic faces while he rummaged in what you thought was an empty pocket.

But then he withdrew what appeared to be a toy airplane that would in no way, shape, or form fit in that pocket without magic. Your brothers face lit up when George threw it in the air and it started to fly, ducking and whizzing around the room.

“Hm, that wasn't what I was looking for,” George said with a dramatic frown, and you giggled. He glanced over his shoulder at you, breaking his frown to smirk at your reaction, and started fishing around in his pockets again.

He pulled out a bouncing ball, then a rubber chicken, a set of chattering teeth, a stuffed teddy bear. Item after item came out of his pockets until your brothers bed was covered in toys and gag items, and a dozen nurses were watching in amazement from the hallway. You and your mom were fighting through silent tears, your heart so big you felt it might explode out of your chest.

Most importantly, your brother was ecstatic, playing with this and that and chattering away at George about the different products and teaching him how to do magic tricks George himself had invented.

But half an hour later, your brother’s nurse came in to administer some of his medication and get him ready for bed. He tried to protest, but his new best friend, George, managed to talk him into not only compliance, but eager acceptance of his medicine.

You stole George away into the now quiet hall, Christmas lights illuminating the dark corridor, and threw your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into his neck, needing to feel him close, to ground you through the onslaught of emotions.

He wrapped his arms around you, his head turning to kiss your temple. “Need some air?” He murmured, and you shook your head no.

“Just need you,” you whispered, holding him tighter.

He let you cry into his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles onto your back and murmuring reassurances into your hair. When you'd exhausted yourself, you pulled back and he reached up to hold your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“Thank you for doing that,” you sniffled, sliding your hands down his chest, his sweater soft beneath your palms.

“It was my pleasure, love,” he replied, looking you in the eye. “You—him—this, I needed this. Needed you,” he breathed, voice tightening. “I forgot why we did it all, what all the sacrifices were for, and you reminded me. He reminded me.”

You rose on your toes to press a kiss to his lips, not knowing how else to express how you were feeling that wasn't, well, insanely soon.

He kissed you back, passionate enough to steal your breath, but released you when the door to your brother's room opened.

“Darling—oh, I'm sorry. Darling, would you like to come get a cup of coffee with me?” Your mother asked, clearly fighting a grin at discovering you.

“Sure, mum,” you exhaled, reluctantly stepping away from George. “You okay for a minute?”

“Absolutely, I'll keep an eye on him.” He pressed a kiss to your knuckles before releasing you to your mother, a soft smile on his face.

When you returned twenty minutes later, you found George stretched out in the arm chair pulled up right next to your brother’s bed, Rudolph on the television.

“—Fred managed to get the deer into the kitchen with some carrots and loaf of banana bread, and kept him distracted while I tied bells and ornaments—mom’s favorite’s, of course—to it’s antlers.”

Your brother was giggling, curled up with the stuffed bear George conjured earlier, his eyes heavy as he fought to stay awake to hear the story.

“But then we ran out of banana bread and Fred tried to give it some cookies, but by then the deer had discovered the Christmas tree in the corner, with the popcorn strings and cranberries and salt dough ornaments, y’know? So the deer started eating the bloody Christmas tree and we cannot get it out of the house now. It’s found the best sodding snack on earth. So by the time my mom get’s home, half the tree is gone, there’s shi—dirt all over the house, dishes are broken, holes in the walls—”

“What did she do?” Your mom asked, laughing. “I would have sent you out to live with the deer and it’s family.”

George grinned. “We ate nothing but carrots and banana bread for a week. Even for Christmas dinner. It was torture,” he chuckled, turning back to your brother, only to find him sound asleep. “That boring, huh?” He joked, rising from the chair so your mom could take it. But instead, she pulled him in for a hug, surprising him.

“Thank you for doing this, and I’m so sorry about your brother. But I know he’d be so proud of you today,” she murmured, and you saw George’s eyes well, his jaw flexing as he tried to fight it. Your mom pulled back, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then smoothing away her lipstick with her thumb. “You’re a wonderful, wonderful man, George Weasley. And I’m so glad you’re here.”

He nodded, a tear streaking down his face. “Thank you, ma’am. That’s very k-kind.”

Your mother passed him to you, his hand gripping your tightly as he fought to keep his composure. “Goodnight, mum. I’ll see you in the morning?”

Your mother nodded, waving you away while she kissed your brothers cheek.

You led George out of the room and down the hall, finding an empty room to slip into. As soon as the door closed behind you, he sank to his knees, great, heaving sobs wracking his body. You lowered yourself to the ground with him, pulling his head into your shoulder and rocking him back and forth, his tears soaking through your sweater and shaking your whole body.

“I miss him,” George gasped like he was in pain, his grip almost bruising around your body.

“I know, baby. I know you do,” you said into his hair, holding his head against your chest. Your own tears began to spill then, for him, for you, for your family, and his, and you clung to one another as the overwhelming grief took it’s pound of flesh.

Slowly, he began to settle, breathing labored, but his tears subsiding. He lifted his head, looking at you through tear-brightened eyes, his lashes dark and spiked with moisture. You leaned forward, kissing away the droplets on his cheeks and jaw, until you felt him start to smile.

“I-it’s been so long since I—” he cleared his throat, reaching up to cup your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “I was numb for awhile, so long I sort of forgot what anything else felt like. I meant what I said earlier, you reminded me of what I’d lost, but in the best way.” Tears welled up again, but he smiled through them. “He would have been so fucking jealous that I got you. But Merlin, he would have loved you so much.”

You huffed a laugh, lower lip trembling as your heart soared. “George,” was all you could manage, and he leaned forward to kiss you, rising onto his knees and pulling into into his chest.

Then, that wild spinning sensation enveloped you again, and in a blink you were back on his couch, exactly as you were before, the credits to the movie rolling on the screen, your glasses of wine exactly where you left them.

“Stay with me tonight,” he asked, trailing kisses down your neck as you reoriented yourself. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, we could spend it together.” He lifted his head to look you in the eyes, and you nodded eagerly.

“Yeah,” you said, laughing as he rained kisses over your face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Thank you so much for reading!

I hope you have the most wonderful holiday season and start of the new year <3

[the-colourful-witch]

📙Percy Weasley📕

Talk about pompous swots, the studious, rule-following, over-achieving type 👓That’s Percy. He will tell the teacher they forgot to assign homework, he will rat you out if you’re breaking rules and then not regret it, because it was the right thing to do. He will also stand up to a bully, protect a younger student. Maybe because the raucous was distracting him from his reading, but does that really matter? He takes action, but mostly because he finds a reason to care 🧐

I think Percy is a great character, he’s well-written. It’s also realistic that he had trouble with his family, from whom he is so different. Percy is the black sheep of the Weasley family. He was bullied by his brothers. Granted, they never meant to truly harm him, but being on the receiving end of pranks and jokes does tire eventually.

I think Percy is very strong. And I think he had a great character arc :) 🌈

It was so fun to draw him, all proper and prim, in contrast to the rest of the family✨✏️

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

something that we’re not // fred weasley

Summary: You and Fred are friends. Best Friends. Who happen to cuddle and sleep in bed together all the time.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: lots of pda, fluff, jealousy, reader gets slapped by her friend

A/N: As always, remember English is not first language. Also, thanks to @coffee-jelly544​ for proofreading this.

main masterlist

You huffed with relief and exhaustion as you exited the potions classroom and made your way through the dungeons to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Detention with Snape was the most agonizing experience you'd ever had. You've spent the last two and a half hours cleaning cauldrons just because you hadn’t turned in your essay on time, and it didn’t help that the greasy-haired professor had it in for you.

You weren't sure what was the cause of this animosity. You were a straight A student, always acing your exams and were proud to say you’re very good at potions. However, Snape always seems to have something against you. Also, you supposed it didn't help that Fred and George Weasley were your best friends. At every opportunity the twins would try to prank or annoy the teacher, seemingly without remorse and understanding of the consequences of their actions.

‘He must enjoy sucking the life out of his students.’

“Hi there, love,” Fred's cheerful voice greeted you as you entered the common room through the portrait hole. He was sitting on the wide sofa, with George next to him. You spotted Angelina in one of the love-arm seats and Lee on the floor near George's knees, even though there was another vacant love-arm seat in the room.

When he noticed your long face, the older twin reached out his arms and drew you into his lap.

“How was detention?” George asked.

“Awful,” you mumbled against Fred's chest. He caressed your back while his other hand played with your fingers absentmindedly. “I hate Snape.”

Lee guffawed, "I don't think anyone in their right mind likes Snape."

“Greasy prick had me scrubbing his filthy cauldrons for two and a half hours.”

“Oh! How dare he,” Fred mocked dramatically, causing a small smile to break out on your face. “Do you want Georgie and I to prank him?”

You lifted your face to connect your gaze with his, “Would you?”

“Anything for you, snookums.”

At his honest response, you squeezed his waist and buried yourself further into his chest.

“Perhaps you could try not to get into trouble next time,” Angelina, who had been quiet until now, advised.

This made your brow furrow, “I only gave him the essay two days late, and it was because I was bedridden, as you know.”

“Yeah, Angie,” George came to your defense, “Snape only gave her detention 'cause he has a grudge against us.”

Your eyes grew heavy, and the muscles in your face relaxed, releasing the strain of the day. Your limbs became limp, heartbeat growing tranquil. Your breathing slowed as you felt the steady rise and fall of Fred’s chest.

“Are you gonna fall asleep on me?” Fred teased.

You hummed, “I might. You are quite comfortable.”

With a smirk on his face, Fred accepted the remark, “That I’ve been told before.”

George rolled his eyes at the silly—but typical— interaction between you two. Like the rest of your friends, he had grown accustomed to your flirting and displays of public affection, which you swore wasn’t hiding anything romantic.

“Carry me to bed?” You didn’t have to ask him twice. Fred tightened his grip on you, and with you safe in his arms made his way up to the girls’ dorm without complaint.

“Are we sure they’re just friends?” Lee inquired, intrigued.

“That’s what they say,” Angelina said in response.

“Fred!” You whispered-yelled, trying to wake your friend up without disturbing the other three blissfully sleeping on their mattresses. “Fred!” You tried again, this time lightly shaking his arm.

“Y/N/N?” His speech was sluggish, and his eyes were barely open, still half-asleep. The redhead looked down at his nightstand; the clock there marking 2:30 in the morning. “What happened?”

“I had a nightmare.”

Fred detected something peculiar in your small voice, and somehow knew you had been crying. He lifted the covers off his bed, inviting you to get in. He drew you close, your head resting on his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding once you were in the safety of his arms. You gripped him in fear that he would vanish, and you were pleading with him to stay with you.

Fred noticed your distress and asked, “What happened, love?”

“I had a nightmare,” tears filled in your eyes as you recounted the images that had woken you up in the dead of the night. “You– You died, Freddie,” you wept, out of breath. Fred tightened his grip on you. “It was awful.”

“It was just a dream,” he tried to soothe you, running his hand through your hair.

“There was a war, and you were there, and there was this wall… it crumbled, and the rubble—” you couldn’t finish telling him as your words broke into sobs. Hot tears streamed down your face, and you squeezed your eyelids shut in the hope the tears would stop.

“Shhh. I’m here, love. I’m fine.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Freddie.”

“Who said anything about losing me?” He tried to lighten your mood. “You know I’m too stubborn to die.” He could feel you start to relax against him, but he still added, “You’re gonna have to put up with me for the rest of your life. It’s what you signed up for when you befriended me.”

His stupidity managed to make you crack a smile, and your choppy breathing and watery eyes slowly came to a stop. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Good. Me neither.”

Neither of you spoke again. You didn’t return to your dorm, and Fred didn’t ask you to either. You knew that if you let go of Fred's arm now, the nightmare would most likely strike again, depriving you of a good night's sleep.

Being wrapped in Fred’s arms calms you down and allows you to fall asleep, and slumber hits you after a few minutes.

The sun flowed golden through the window, making a polite announcement for the rising sun. The sunlight created rainbow diamonds that swirled across the wall's canvas.

“Good morning, lovebirds,” George’s chippy voice made you groan and bury further in Fred’s chest.

“They look very cozy, don’t you think, George?” You recognized Lee's voice.

“They certainly do, Lee.”

“Shut up!” Fred opened his eyes and tossed his pillow at his brother and best friend, who were standing at the foot of his bed. “People are trying to sleep over here.”

“Have you seen what time it is? You'll be in trouble if someone sees Y/N leave the room at this hour.”

That caused you to widen your eyes and turn to look at the clock. It was barely half an hour before breakfast.

“Oh shit!” You exclame.

“Why didn’t you wake us up sooner?”

George shrugged as he gazed at his brother. “You seemed very comfortable. I didn’t want to disturb your sleep.”

The older twin rolled his eyes.

“Hey Y/N,” Lee called for your attention. “You are welcome to return tonight and sleep in my bed. I’m a better cuddler than Freddie.”

George laughed at his friend’s suggestion, but it didn't elicit the same emotion in Fred, who rolled out of bed and smacked his friend across his head.

“Ouch,” he grumbled, massaging his head.

“Watch it, Jordan,” Fred warned, pointing his finger at him.

“Yeah, Lee. Don’t you know Freddie boy here is the only one allowed to cuddle little Y/N/N?”

Fred was about to reprimand his brother when he was startled by the sound of the bedroom door clicking shut. When he turned around, he saw that you had already left the room.

You crept down the hallway of the boys’ dorms back to your room trying not to be caught by other students. When you reached the girls' dorms there's a loud noise around the corner and you quickly ducked into an alcove. You peek out and spot a group of girls chatting and laughing as they walk down the hall toward the common room.

Once the coast was clear, you went to your dorm and softly pushed the door open, trying to make as little noise as possible, until you were safely inside.

“G’day, buttercup,” Your friend, Alicia Spinnet, greeted you. “Fun night?”

She and Angelina were already dressed in their uniforms, gazing at you  like a deer caught in headlights. Angelina was looking at you, admonishing, while Alicia's eyes were amused. You didn't need to tell them where you'd spent the night because you were confident they already knew.

“You should not be sneaking into the boys’ dorms late at night. I’m sure you have plenty of time to snog your boyfriend during the day.”

“C’mon, Angie. Let the girl have her fun.”

You frowned at her. “Fred’s not my boyfriend.”

Angelina laughed at you humorlessly. “Yeah, sure.”

“What’s your problem?” You approached her, facing her. “You’ve been a bitch to me lately for no reason.”

“I’m the bitch? I’m not the one that sneaks into the boys’ room in the middle of the night.”

“I’m sorry that my friendship with Fred bothers you that much, but blaming me for his rejection will not make him want you.”

Something smacked against your face, and your cheek began to sting. When you realize your friend had slapped you, your heart began to race.

Angelina had always been there for you, through everything. She was, along with the twins, one of the first people you befriended during your first year at Hogwarts. But now, after years of friendship, she had finally let herself go too far. Slapping you in the face hard was something you never expected from her.

“Angie!” Alicia gasped horrified.

“It’s alright,” you interjected, taking a long breath. You weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of seeing you altered. “Do you feel better now?” You looked at your friend, but you didn’t wait for her reply nor did you expect her to reply. You picked up your uniform from your trunk and made your way to the bathroom.

It'd been a week since your altercation with Angelina. She couldn't get the rage out of her head since then. Every time she saw you, she would experience an illogical outburst of anger. You haven’t tried to talk with her either. You were stubborn, but you weren't in the wrong this time, and she had no right to tell you the awful things she did, let alone hit you.

As if on cue, Angelina and Alicia entered the room. The smile on Angelina’s face caused by whatever Alicia said evaporated as her gaze was drawn to the table in front of her—you were sitting on one of the Gryffindor common room sofas. Fred's head rested on your lap, his legs sprawled out along the length of the couch while you ran your fingers through his ginger locks, braiding them.

Anger simmered inside her as she glared at you. She stomped her foot and mumbled a string of curses, her hands into fists as she marched towards the stairs that led to the dorms. Alicia smiled apologetically and followed her friend's lead.

“What’s wrong with her?” Fred gazed up at you, perplexed by the Quidditch Captain's actions.

“She’s upset that you don’t wanna go to the Yule Ball with her.”

“Still? Godric, you girls need to let things go.”

“You tell her that,” you grumbled, “She thinks we are dating.”

Fred didn’t seem fazed by your words. “Yeah. Lee and George think so too.”

“You have really soft hair,” you muttered, trying to change the topic of the conversation, as you didn’t like where it was heading.

“It’s the Weasley gene,” he joked, making you laugh.

“See, you can’t do shit like that and not want us to think you’re a couple.”

George and Lee dashed down the stairwell. They strolled over, leaning over the back of the couch, looking with amused eyes at the display of affection between you and Fred.

“I’m just braiding his hair,” you said more defensively than intended.

“You’re just jealous that you don’t have a best friend who braids your hair.”

The younger twin cracked a sly smirk. “Would you braid my hair, Y/N?”

“No, she won’t,” Fred answered almost in an instant, lacking amusement.

“Why not? She’s my friend too.”

“Exactly, you said it yourself— friend. Not best friends. You are just her friend. I’m her best friend and she can only have one best friend.”

“You’re so childish.”

“He’s like a possessive boyfriend who doesn’t like his girl hanging around with other guys,” Lee whispered in George’s ear.

“Watch this,” George mouthed at Lee, who was looking at him expectantly.

“Hey, Y/N,” you shifted your gaze away from Fred’s ginger locks to look at the other ginger. “Do you happen to have a date for the Yule Ball?”

Fred’s body stiffened at his brother’s words.

You squint your eyes at George’s question. You knew him well enough to know he wasn’t asking just for the sake of asking. “I don’t.”

“Wanna go together?” He wriggled his eyebrows, “I’m the family's best dancer.”

“I doubt it,” you replied to him. “I bet Ginny’s got that talent, along with the brains.”

Lee roared a chuckle, and George placed a hand on his chest, a mock offended expression on his face.

“You hurt me, Y/N/N.”

You rolled your eyes at his antics.

“Who are you going to go with, then? I doubt you'll find a more suitable suitor than me.”

“She’s going with me,” Fred replied casually.

You lowered your gaze at your friend. “I am?” You inquired, “When did you ask me?”

“Now,” he said, smiling broadly, “Would you do me the honor to accompany me to the Yule Ball, dear Y/N?

Yule Ball night.

You stood in front of the full-length mirror, your reflection stared back at you. You had never felt so beautiful before. You admired your dress, feeling happy with how it looked on you.

You were wearing a beautiful gown in spring garden hues. It had delicate blossom details and it was made of beautifully draped plisse tulle that pleats over a nude corset bodice. Whispery yet regal, plisse tulle at skirt had underlayers with subtle sparkle that made it truly magical.

You spent hours debating what to do with your hair, and in the end, following Alicia’s suggestion of a low bun with a French braid. You wrapped the bun with a lock of hair already plaited in a French braid and pinned it in place. And as a final touch, you added a cute hair clip for some extra glitz.

“Wow,” your friend gasped behind you. You turned around to meet her already in her gown. “Fred’s gonna lose his mind when he sees you.”

“I can say the same about Lee,” you smiled, “Have you seen yourself? You’re stunning!”

You took one last look at your reflection in the mirror before leaving the dorm. You couldn’t help but smile at yourself; this is going to be a night to remember.

Fred couldn’t take his eyes off you as you descended the stairs. You had always been beautiful to him, but tonight you were especially stunning. Watching you now, he couldn't believe that he was about to have the chance to dance with you. He had a warm feeling inside of him, and he couldn't help but smile at you. As you came closer, he could see the happiness in your eyes, which made him even more excited.

“Hi,” you greeted him when you reached the bottom of the stairs and walked over to him.

“Hey,” Fred smiled at you, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Shall we?” Fred inquired, extending his arm to you. You nodded and walked over to the Great Hall, linking your arm with his.

Soon enough, you were in the middle of the crowd, swirling around to the music. As you danced together, Fred felt like nothing could tear you apart. You laughed and smiled as you moved around the ballroom, and it was honestly one of the happiest moments of Fred's life.

As the night progressed and the music got slower and more sentimental, you knew that this would be one of the most memorable nights of your life.

“Are you having a good time?” Fred asked. You had your arms around his neck and his hands were respectfully on your waist as you swayed to the rhythm of the music.

You hummed in response and gazed up at him. “Thank you for taking me. Even if you only did it to piss your brother.”

“What?” he frowned, “I didn’t take you to piss George off. He asked you to piss me off.” Fred grumbled.

“Why would it piss you off me coming with him?”  

Fred tensed briefly at your question, but he quickly brushed it off. “I didn’t say it would piss me off; I meant that he believed it would piss me off,” he quickly explained, “Y’know, since he thinks we’re dating.”

You took in his explanation, still not convinced enough. “And then you asked me just to prove to him that it did, in fact, piss you off?”

“I asked because I wanted to spend the night with you.”

“Then why did you wait ‘till the last minute?”  

You weren’t truly bothered, but you liked how he squirmed with each question you threw at him. It was hilarious to watch him so uneasy. It wasn’t something you were used to, so you were savoring the moment.

He was going to defend himself again when he saw the smile breaking out on your face. “You’re so mean,” he pouted.

“Sorry. You’re fun to mess with.”

As the songs continued to play and you kept swaying, you slowly –and probably unconsciously– brought each other in close until your bodies were pressed tightly against each other and you could feel each other's pulses racing under their skin.

“A little too close for a friend’s dance,” Angelina's crabby voice resonated among her friends at the table as they watched you and Fred dance a few feet away.

Alicia sighed at her friend’s snarky comment. She was tired of the situation and being in the middle of her two best friends’ feud, trying not to take sides.

“Still upset by Fred’s rejection?” Lee teased, “Or is it the fact that he’s in love with your best friend that bothers you?”

Angelina rolled her eyes. “I don’t bloody care who he likes. They could just say they're together once and for all, and not make us look stupid.”

“I don’t think they are together,” George chimed in, after a lengthy gulp of firewhiskey. “But there’s definitely something there.”

Lee frowned at the younger twin, “What made you change your mind?”

He was perplexed by his friend's quick change of heart. George was the first to suspect you and his twin were secretly dating and denying it to annoy them.

The ginger simply shrugged and sipped his drink again.

“I wish the school did more things like this,” you reflected. You were sitting on the couch in the Gryffindor’s Common Room, the ball had ended hours before, but the night hadn't ended for you and Fred. He was seated next to you, with your head resting on his shoulder. You sat there watching the fireplace flames dance and shimmer. You've always enjoyed the sound of a crackling fire and the warmth it provided during the winter months. However, Fred was completely focused on you. He admired the flickering light from the fireplace as it played off your features, making them shine. He couldn't take his eyes off of you.

He loved everything about you, from your laugh to your dimples.

Fred had never felt this way about someone. 'Should I say something? What if she thinks it's weird?' Maybe it was just because he'd never had that type of connection with anybody else before, but he didn't want to ruin it by intruding on your night.

“You didn’t have enough of my dance moves, did you?” He laughed, attempting to put any other thoughts to the back of his mind.

“You were pretty good. Surprisingly.”

A faux offended expression played on your best friend’s face. “Excuse me?” Fred placed a hand on his chest in mockery. “What do you mean by surprisingly?”

Before you could even get a clue of what was happening, you were pinned down on the couch, Fred's body hovering over you while his large fingers tickled your sides. You laughed hard, doubling over in pain and joy.

“Stop,” you said between giggles, trying to get away from him as he tickled you further.

"Okay, okay," you finally said when you knew you'd never be able to break free from Fred's grip, “I give up.”

When he was done, you lay there, gasping for air and laughing uncontrollably.

Fred reached for your face with his palm, tucking away a few strands of your hair, clearing the way so your gazes could meet.

You've always thought Fred’s eyes were beautiful and bright, always holding something special inside. It was difficult to put into words how much you loved looking into them, but it was definitely something special. Maybe it was just the way they made you feel small and vulnerable in a way that nobody else ever had, but there was just something about them that made you complete.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered ever so softly, and something turned in your stomach.

“You live to flatter.”

“That’s why you love me.”

“I never said I loved you.”

He smirked at your words. “Then, tell me,” he challenged, “Tell me you love me.”

You grew a sneaky grin on your face, moved in closer — if that was possible — and whispered in his ear, “Make me.”

His eyes darkened, and his smile became wider. His fingers sank into your waist again before you could react. “Tell me you love me!” he exclaimed.

“Never!” You shouted, giggling.

His fingers continued to tickle your sides, making you laugh, squirm, and beg him to stop.

“Say you love me, Y/N.”

“What in Merlin’s beard are you doing?” A reprimanding voice from the staircase made its way into the Common Room. “Do you know what time is it? You are gonna wake everyone up.”

George gave you a disapproving look, and he was too exhausted to see that he had wrecked the moment between his brother and you that Fred had been looking forward to for so long.

Fred sighed and got off of you, you followed his actions and went to pick up your heels from the floor.

“Sorry, Georgie,” you apologized to your friend, “You’re right, it’s late. I’m gonna head off to bed. Goodnight, guys.”

You didn’t spare a glance at the twins. You couldn’t look at Fred after what had happened,  and all you could think about was what might have happened if George hadn't walked in.

'Would you have confessed?

Would he have told you he loved you?

Would you have kissed?

What would it have felt to kiss his lips?'

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind of any stray thoughts concerning you and Fred.

You were only friends.

Best friends.

And that’s all you’d ever be.

But would let the rest of the world keep thinking that you were something more.

[moutainrusing]

missing scene

332 words, @wolfstarmicrofic

Putting the Weasley twins and two Marauders in the same place was something the Order should have expected to erupt into chaos.

The twins had put glue in Remus and Sirius’s shampoo, Remus and Sirius had dyed the twins’ hair green. George had charmed buckets to follow Sirius around and empty gooey slime over his head at random intervals, Remus had charmed Fred’s dinner plate to dance over the table, looking away innocently while Molly yelled at the twins for it.

“We’ll get you for that,” Fred hissed at the Marauders, after vehemently defending himself from his mother’s accusations.

“Oh, yeah,” George smirked. “I already have so many ideas.”

“Ooh, Georgie, I see you,” Fred tapped the side of his brain. “Twin telepathy.”

“True…” George nodded, turning to Remus and Sirius. “Do you two also have some telepathy going on? Your pranks are so coordinated.”

Remus shrugged, while Sirius threw an arm around his shoulder, grinning, “Remus and I are in sync.”

“Oh,” Fred realised, “That’s why you’re almost as good as us. This is a brothers versus brothers war.”

Sirius mimed throwing up, and Remus only pulled Sirius closer into his side. “We’re not brothers,” Remus stated.

George eyed them sceptically. “But you’re in sync? Freddie and I are in sync, and that’s ‘cause we’re twins.”

“Oh!” Fred raised a knowledgeable finger in the air. “This is a twins versus twins war!”

Sirius made the most disgusted expression ever, and Remus laughed, “We’re not related in any way.”

“You’re not actually related,” George explained.

“You just think of each other that way,” Fred insisted.

Sirius shook his head severely. “If I were to ever think of Remus in that way, I’d add myself back onto the Black family tree.”

Remus clarified, “It’s never happening.”

George narrowed his eyes. “But then… what are you?”

“Werewolf,” Remus replied easily.

“Fugitive,” Sirius casually glanced at his nails.

“No,” Fred shook his head. “What are you to each other?”

“Fugitive,” Remus smiled.

“Werewolf,” Sirius grinned.

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Space for two (NSFW)

Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

A continuation of the weekend with the Weasley twins. Things can get pretty heated when you’re in bed with your kinky boyfriend and his, equally kinky, twin.

T/W: nsfw (under 16’s dni), dom Fred, dom George, Degradation, spanking, bondage, fingering, male masturbation, nipple play, sir kink, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, stomach bulge?, oral (male receiving)

A/N: this isnt be a series, just me writing a little part 2 for this idea. Thank you all for the likes and support with Room for Two, i'm writing this as a mini celebration for 500 likes.

1.4K words

“My Turn, Kitten”

George pulled out of your puffy cunt, swapping places with his brother and sitting in the chair opposite the bed that Fred had occupied before. Fred knelt behind you and saw his brothers cum slowly leak from deep inside you, making him smirk.

“Bet you loved that, you little slut. Being used by my brother felt good, didn’t it?”

When you meekly nodded, Fred harshly slapped your ass, making you jolt and yelp. George smirked from his place in the chair, enjoying how fucked out he could make you.

“Good little sluts use their words, don't they Kitten? Don't you want to be a good girl for Freddie and me?” George cooed mockingly, his smirk turning sadistic as he saw you nod eagerly before muttering a small “Yes Sir, wanna be a good girl for you both”. Fred chuckled before pulling you to lay on your back, taking off his orange tie. He pulled you by your wrists to the bed frame before tying them tightly, leaving you without the use of your arms. Fred and George both admired the sight of you, naked, vulnerable, and extremely horny. Fred sat back down by your side, running his hand up along your stomach to grope your breasts.

“Tell me Kitten, you liked when Georgie fucked you, didnt you?” Fred spoke calmly, his hand still toying with your nipples, pulling small breathy moans and whimpers from you.

When you didn't answer fast enough, Fred pinched and tugged on your sensitive nipples, making you yelp and whimper.

“Felt so good sir”

Freds grin widened and he trailed his hand down to your aching clit. He plunged two fingers inside of your pussy, causing you to let out a pornographic moan. His fingers pumped in and out without stopping, curling to press that spot inside of you that had your legs trembling. Fred’s other hand trailed up to your throat, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing gently, not enough to hurt, but enough to have you clench around his fingers.

From the end of the bed, you could hear George's grunts and heavy breathing. You take a chance to look down, only to find George stroking his cock. Precum gathered at his tip, making your mouth water. Fred had fucked your throat many times, but would his twin brother taste the same?

Both twins watched you intently, not missing a single thing you did. They both saw how desperate you were. Fred had once mentioned to George about your ‘oral fixation’, but that look in your eye just proved it. You were like a dog with a treat.

George only snickered at that look on your face and stood up from the chair, favouring to kneel on the other side of the bed next to you. He smirked at how your eyes remained glued to his cock. He moved closer, revelling in the way you tried to move forward to taste him, but whining once your tied wrists pulled you back. Fred pulled his fingers out of you and spanked your already sore and throbbing clit, making you cry out and close your legs.

“What's the matter, kitten? Thought you wanted Georgie in your slutty mouth? Or do you want him to finish on those perfect tits like a dirty whore? Fred stroked your cheek in mock affection. All you could do was whine and try to lean closer with your mouth open, hoping that George would comply and give you what you want.

But if pranksters are good at one thing, it's teasing.

“Go on then, slut, if you want it that badly. Suck his cock”. Freds teasing in your ear made you whimper, desperately fighting against the binds on your wrists to just get a taste. George leaned forward, letting your tongue swipe against his tip before leaning back again, taking your desire for more with him. Before you could whine and beg for more, Fred got between your legs and slid his cock along your dripping folds. Fred leaned closer, his breath fanning your already red cheeks. “Bet you’d love nothing more than to have Georgie between your legs again, letting him fuck you until you’re sore. Who do you prefer, Kitten, your boyfriend or his brother? Who do you want to fuck you? Who do you want to cum deep inside of you until you’re swollen?”

“Want you, sir. Want you to fuck me and make me full. Want you deep ins-” Your pleas were cut off by your loud moan, caused by Fred ramming into you, not stopping until he was balls deep. His smirk grew when he saw your expression slowly turn to nothing but bliss, your need for begging forgotten as his cock felt too good to remember what you were begging for. He noticed the bulge in your belly from his tip pressing deep into your cervix. He pressed down on it, making you whimper and squirm beneath him. George stayed on the bed beside you, holding your head in place by taking a grip of your hair. He angled your head just right, giving you a view of Fred's cock as he slowly started to pull out, giving you an empty feeling that was only temporary.

Fred’s slow and deep thrusts, along with George's grip on your hair, had your eyes rolling back and your toes curling. You wish your hands weren't tied above your head so that you could hold onto either twin. Fred slowly increased his pace. Slow, deep thrusts turning quick and merciless as his cock pounded away at your insides. You were getting closer and closer with every thrust, still pent up from Fred's fingers teasing you earlier.

“Please Sir, need to cum. Please let me cum, Freddie, Georgie, please”. Your begging slowly became unintelligible babbling that made both boys chuckle. Fred kept his brutal pace while George held your hair with one hand, his other teasing and pinching your nipples. George decided to put you out of your misery with one little word.

“Cum”

Pornographic moans fell from your lips as your body trembled, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. Your walls convulsed and gushed around Freds cock, causing him to groan and cum deep inside of you with one final thrust. His cum soothed your raw insides as he slowly pulled out, rubbing his hand on your thigh comfortingly. But George wasn't done.

George untied your hands and pulled your head into his crotch, immediately slipping his cock between your wet and open lips. You didn't have enough time to prepare and gagged softly as his tip nestled itself snugly into your throat. You flattened your tongue to lick the underside of his shaft as best you could with his rough thrusts. His precum had already stained the back of your throat, leaving you with the permanent taste of him. Although he and his brother were twins, they did taste uniquely different. But both tastes were tastes that you wouldn't mind having again, as embarrassing as that is to admit when talking about the taste of cum from your boyfriend and his twin. George's thrusts got sloppier and his cum forced its way down your throat, giving you no choice but to swallow it down, not like you wouldn't have anyway.

Something the Weasley twins had in common (apart from appearance and cheekiness) was that they were both cuddlebugs after sex. Fred pulled you by your waist into his embrace, whilst George spooned you from behind. The smell of sex mixed in with the comforting scent of both twins. The room that was once filled with squelches and moans was now filled with heavy breathing and praises from either twin about how good their little Kitten was.

If this was just one weekend, you'd definitely ask about moving in.

Taglist

@chlo8e-blog @rk-ceres

[artbymaranne]

Ginny Weasley 

We’re not talking about how long this took me to make ;-; 

[prismolovesfanfiction]

So "jail" is on the Weasley Family clock but who do yall think got jailed to make that happen

My bet is Bill

[movfie]

James and Oliver Phelps doing some cake arts n crafts 🧁

12/27/2024

[that-weird-skeleton-bastard]

I noticed somethin about the Weasley kids

I made a helpful little chart:

there's a useless fun fact for ya :3

[cherry-pop-elf]

Weasley Siblings Reacting To You Saying You Are Pregnant

Writing Comission’s Are Open

William ‘Bill’

“Excuse me-?” He was left practically speechless, when he picked up the onesie on his bedside table. A little blue thing, with the words To The Moon And Back. He was so full of emotions. Panic, excitement, horror, joy. Would the baby inherit his wolf tendencies? Would something go wrong, because of his bad blood? He was so scared. Would you be in danger, because of him? With his eyes turning to you, and seeing that excited smile, he couldn’t help but calm down. Teddy existed after all, didn’t he? He was as fine as he could be. The idea of holding his own little ball of joy. To see that orange hair, and watch you nurse. “I’m going to be a dad….” He trailed, with a smile. “I’m going to be a dad-“ He repeated, as he would hold the little sleep wear to his chest. Tears ran down his broken cheeks, as he kept reacting it. So full of pride. He’s going to be a dad, with you.

Charlie

“IM GONNA BE A DAD-!” He was screaming, bloody damn murder, as he was running around at the sanctuary. Screaming it with pride, as you chased after him. Just laughing, as the dragons would lift up their heads. “IM A DAD IM A DAD IM A DAD-!” He keeps roaring, as the dragons would tilt their heads. Watching their motherly figure jump for joy. Literally. “Charlie-!” You laughed, as he was just to full of excitement. Laughing, cheering, and crying. That’s when one of the older mothers would grab him by the collar. Yanking him into the air, before plopping him right next to you. As if to convey that he better step up now. That had you laugh, as he pouted at her. “I am I am-!” He said, before he was on his knees. Holding your belly. “I’m gonna be your daddy-!” He squealed, as he kissed it over. All the excitement getting the new borns curious, but those mothers made sure they didn’t get to close. Letting him have his moment. A new baby, to join the herd.

Percy

“You cannot be serious-“ Percy was blinking, as he had hardly taken two steps through the fire place. Just gotten off work, early for once, only to be surprised by you making a baby box. It was meant to be a surprise, and something you would give to him after dinner. Seems like he was still surprised, regardless. “Who had the baby this time-?” He asked, as he would set his belongings where they were designated. That had you snort, as it didn’t quite dawn on him yet. With the fact you didn’t say anything, he turned around. “Honey?” He asked again, as you keep smiling. Slowly, the gears turned, before he was left with his cloak dropped from his hands. It was him. He didn’t expect that. Was like the last one to join the family gang. He couldn’t help his worry. He didn’t exactly grow up to well. He wasn’t to well connected with his family, and only came around when it was almost to late. He didn’t want that to happen to his kid. To have such a divide. You could tell he was worried, and patted the seat next to you. He joined, and you would kiss his head. “Who do you wanna tell first?” You asked, as he held your hand. The name he said, reassured himself that this kid won’t have that tension. Not like what he made. “George is perfect.” Another kiss to his head, as the plans were made. A big and happy family.

Fred

The words barley left your lips, before you were tossed over his shoulder. As quickly as you were tossed, you were soon hearing the noise of the busy shop. "HEY EVERYONE!" He shouted, causing everyone to look up at one of the railings. George as well, with curious eyes all the same. "IM GONNA BE A DAD, AND GEORGE IS GONNA BE A UNCLE!" He cheered, and everyone was a roar of cheers as well. George was quick to drop what he was doing, and soon aparate next to him. "Put your damn mother to be down!" He laughed, as Fred finally set you down. All three of you in a warm, and tight, hug. "i'm gonna be a uncle!" George cheered, as you laughed. You had to wonder who was more excited for the baby. Your husband, or his twin? It did not matter to you. They were both so happy for this wonderful news. They just could not let you go, as they were just laughing in joy. Children. More children. What could make them hate that?

George

"Pregnant?" He whispered, as he almost looked like he would burst into tears. "I heard that right, didn't I?" He asked, as he felt over the scarred skin that was once his ear. You nodded, before you held up your hands. You could not grasp sign as fast as George did, but you knew the alphabet. P.R.E.G.N.A.N.T. Pregnant. He was soon tackling you, as he was sobbing into your shoulder. "I'm going to be a dad-" He sobbed, as you rubbed his back. Some joy, in his world of darkness. You had fallen pregnant, not long after the death of Voldemort. Made senes, since the stress was gone. For you, anyway. "Jellybean....If its a boy...." You would peck his cheek, and nod. "A boy, Fred. If a girl, Fredrick works as a beautiful middle name." You comforted, getting another hiccup in return. The world was moving on, but the world will not be forgotten. Fred lived on, and hes going to be your tiny terror. How excited you two were, for it.

Ron

“No-“ He gasped. “Really-? No-! Are you-? No-“ Was like he was trapped in a loop, as he now paced around your living room. Looking at you, before looking at his feet, then repeating. As if every time he made a full pace, he turned. You had to admit, was pretty adorable. Figured news like this would make your Auror husband short circuit a bit. You let him pace, with a smile. Just grinning, as he was trying to register it all. Suppose work fatigue makes anyone’s brain mush. Especially a job like his. You would watch him pace, until his brain was finally registering that YEP you are indeed pregnant. “Bloody hell….IM GONNA BE A DAD-!” His face was beaming, before he was stealing you into his arms. He was exhausted, but not tired enough to not huggle and cuddle. “We need to tells ‘Mione and Harry-! Oh those two will be so excited-!” He beams. Uncle Harry and Auntie Hermione. He was going to crush you, you swore, if he kept being so happy. “Blimey, guess that over time is finally coming in handy.” You hated his over time, but he had a point. Now you two had a secure start. That had you relax a little more. “Hope Harry doesn’t mine if I slow down on my career a little.” You would stroke his hair, and pecked his cheek. “He’s Harry. I’m doubtful he will be made you want to not be dead on a side walk, and leave me a single parent.” You snorted. “Yeah, probably doesn’t want history repeating.” Morbid, but point proven. “Gonna be a dad-“ He kept smiling, as he pulled you into his lap. Unable to stop holding you close. He was so happy, and you were all the same. Your family.

Ginny

“SHUT UP-!” She gasped, as she was looking towards the Quidditch stands. No way was she seeing what she was seeing. Your wife just won the first game of the season, and she was looking straight at you. In the VIP seats, and holding up a sign. I’m Pregnant. In bold and colorful letters, so she couldn’t miss it. “NO WAY-!” Ginny kept screaming, as her team mates looked over, as they were shaking hands with the enemy team. “What’s up?!” One of them asked. “IM GONNA BE A MUM-!” Ginny cheered, as that had all the broomstick flyers stare towards where her eyes looked. “CONGRATS-!” The enemy seeker said, with a clap. Good sportsmanship. “IM GONNA BE A MUM-!” What a way to start her quidditch season. The first win, and the fact she’s going to be a mom. “Well, go and fly over-!” A team mate smacked her back, and she wasn’t needed to told twice. The fans went nuts, with famous Quidditch Star Ginny Weasley was flying towards the stands. Right to you, and nearly tackling you down in the box. The fellow VIP seaters clapped for you two, as she planted a big kiss on you. Tears in the corner of her eyes, as she hugged you tightly. “You knew I would win, didn’t you?” She asked. “No, but I mean what better way to recover from a loss?” That had her smack your shoulder, but she was soon was wiping her eyes on her gloves. “Oh fuck, look at me. Crying like a girl-“ She joked, as she sniffled. She was so happy, and you were as well. She just couldn’t contain her joy. Her, you, and your own little precious snitch. What more could a girl want?

[mpaoshelle]

and he wasn't wrong

[the-colourful-witch]

🥇🏆The Gryffindor Quidditch team🏆🥇

It took me a while to figure out how to fit seven people in a lineup and make it fun to look at🫡 The ✨ struggles of arting ✨ But! I’m happy with how this turned out! I love the blue and red contrast :)

It was also a lot of fun to draw Harry and the twins again, it’s been a while. I hope you like this one! Until the next one peeps!✏️🏳️‍🌈💪🏻

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

sweet nothing // george weasley

Summary: You’ve had a crush on George for a while, but he doesn’t seem to notice you… until he does. He can’t take his eyes off of you, and Fred can’t help but tease his brother.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: lots of fluff

A/N: As always remember English is not my first language. Thanks to @the-toad-in-your-piano​ for proofreading this!

This was requested by @little-sparklesstuff hope you like it!

main masterlist

You met Hermione last year. Even though you were in the same year, the same house, and shared some classes together, you never really had a proper conversation with the bushy-haired girl.

You both reached for the same book at the library one day, which struck up a conversation about your favorite authors. You quickly discovered you had a lot in common.

Hermione soon introduced you to Ron and Harry and the four of you became inseparable.

If asked what they liked best about you, the three of them would unanimously say your upbeat personality. You always saw the bright side of everything, which is something not everyone can say. You were generous, funny, and had a charming laugh that drew accolades.

Your friends loved having you around.

As you were sitting on one of the benches in the courtyard, you let out a loud laugh at something Ron said. Your laughter drew the attention of George, who was passing by with Fred at his side. He came to a halt and looked at you, watching as you flung back your head and laughed heartily. He felt his heart skip a beat. He’d seen you around the castle before, hanging out with his little brother and his friends, but never really paid much attention to you until now.

“Who's that?” George inquired, nodding towards you.

Fred followed his brother's gaze to the group of Gryffindors. “That's Y/N,” Fred replied. “She's been friends with Harry, Ron, and Hermione for ages.”

George couldn't take his eyes off you as you continued laughing with your friends.

“I know that look,” Fred teased, a sly grin etched on his face. “You're smitten with her.”

“Shut up, Fred.”

“You're staring so hard at her I'm worried she might catch on fire!" Fred said with a chuckle.

On the other side of the courtyard, once your laughter had died down, Hermione nudged your arm. “Looks like you've got an admirer,” she teased.

You frowned, but she gave you a subtle signal to look to your right. You turned around to see George Weasley standing in the middle of the courtyard, his gaze riveted on you. Fred, who was next to him, whispered something in his ear and he blushed furiously. George shook his head, diverting his gaze away from you and walking with his twin to his next class.

You rolled your eyes at Hermione’s remark, but you couldn't help but be flattered by George's attention. You had harbored a crush on the younger twin for months now, but you were wise enough to realize he'd never be interested in you, so you didn't get your hopes up. But now that you'd caught him looking at you, something inside of you had shifted.

George couldn't take his eyes off of you. He had been silently admiring you from across the Common Room for the past half hour. He was so absorbed in his admiration that he didn't notice when Fred approached him.

“If you keep staring at her like that, she's going to think you're a creepy stalker,” Fred teased.

George snapped out of his daydream and blushed with embarrassment. “Sorry, I got lost in thought,” he admitted.

Fred grinned mischievously. “Lost in thoughts about Y/N, huh? Don't worry, mate, I won't tell anyone.”

George rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Fred.”

Fred nudged him with his elbow. “Come on, man, just go talk to her already. You've been staring for what feels like an eternity.”

George took a deep breath and summoned up all his courage. He walked over to you, his heart racing faster than it ever had before.

“Hey,” he said softly. “What are you reading?”

You raised your head from your book and smiled at him. “Oh, hi, George! It's a romance novel.”

“Romance? Interesting,” he teased. “Well, if I may ask, what's it about?”

You giggled and held up the cover of the book so George could read it himself.

“Pride and Prejudice. It doesn’t ring a bell.”

You chuckled. “It’s a Muggle book. Hermione recommended it to me.”

“Is it any good?” George inquired.

“It’s really good. You should read it sometime,” you suggested, closing the book and placing it on the table next to you. You knew he wouldn't; George Weasley had no interest in reading. He preferred Quidditch and the pranks he and Fred played on Filch.

George smiled at you and took a seat next to you. “Maybe I will.”

You laughed. “I highly doubt that. You're not exactly a bookworm, George.”

George rolled his eyes with a playful smile. “I can be if I want to be.”

“Sure, George. You keep telling yourself that,” you said jokingly.

George's heart skipped a beat at the sound of your laugh. He couldn't help but admire you even more.

“How come this is the first time we are talking?” He dared to ask.

You shrugged. “Well, you tell me. I’ve been friends with your little brother for over a year now, you just never paid attention to me.” Even if your words pricked your heart, they were not malicious. You couldn’t blame the boy for not noticing you, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't intrigued by his sudden interest in you.

“Not very smart on my part. It’s not like me to not notice a pretty girl.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Of course it is,” George said, flashing you a grin. “I mean, look at you.”

Your cheeks burned, feeling a bit flustered. “Thanks, I guess.”

“So, what do you say we get to know each other a bit better?” George asked, feeling a surge of confidence. Even if he was acting his regular lively, flirtatious self, he was still a nervous wreck around you.

You smiled. “I'd like that.”

The Great Hall buzzed with excitement as students bustled about, filling their plates with steaming hot food and chatting with their friends. Amidst the chaos, George wormed his way through the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of you. Since that day in the Common Room, the younger twin had been trying to find any moment of the day and any excuse to spend time with you. After a few seconds, he finally spotted you at the Gryffindor table sitting with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Fred nudged him playfully. “There she is, go talk to her.”

Taking a deep breath, he walked towards you. “Hey, Y/N, mind if I sit here?” he asked, gesturing to the empty space next to you. He hoped his voice didn't betray his nervousness.

“Of course not, George. It's nice to have some company,” you replied, smiling warmly at him.

George settled into his seat next to you, joining in on the conversation. But his eyes kept stealing glances at you and Hermione couldn't help but notice. She nudged Ron. “Look at George. He's clearly smitten with her.”

Ron shrugged as he looked across at George and you. “I don't see it.”

In contrast, Fred, who was well aware of his twin's crush on you, decided to speak up. “Come on, Georgie, stop staring at Y/N like that. It's making everyone uncomfortable.”

George's face turned bright red with embarrassment and he quickly looked down at his food, muttering an apology.

“Don't worry about it, George,” you said, placing a hand on his arm and giving him a reassuring smile. “It's not a big deal.”

Harry and Ron exchanged confused glances, still clueless about what was going on.

Fred grinned mischievously and resolved to further embarrass his brother. “You know, Y/N, George here has been talking about you non-stop.”

You raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Is that so?”

George stammered and tried to deny it but Fred wouldn't let him off the hook. “Oh yes, he's got it bad for you.”

To George's surprise, you didn't seem put off by this at all. In fact, you smiled even wider and turned your attention solely on him.

“Really, now?” you asked, raising your eyebrows at George.

George cleared his throat, “I mean... you're just... interesting to look at.”

You chuckled. “Well, I'm glad I can provide some entertainment.”

You and Hermione were sitting on your bed in your shared dormitory. Hermione had a serious look on her face while you fidgeted nervously with the edge of your blanket.

“You have to listen to me, Y/N,” Hermione said firmly. “George likes you. I've seen the way he looks at you.”

You shrugged. “I haven’t noticed.”

“Don't be silly, Y/N. It's so obvious. He smiles whenever you're around, and he always finds a way to be close to you.”

“You think so?” you asked, your heart racing.

“Yes, I do. And I think you should do something about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, don't just sit around and wait for him to make a move. You should talk to him.”

You wanted to believe Hermione’s words. You really wanted to. But you had been harboring a crush on George for a while now. He barely had acknowledged your existence until two months ago and you were still unsure what provoked the sudden attention.

So many things were happening at the same time. You had a fragile heart, and you didn’t want it to be broken by making up things in your head. Yes, you had noticed George’s lingering stares, and you were pretty aware of the compliments he gave you, but that was just George being George. He was just flirty. You didn’t think any of it.

“He's never given me any indication that he likes me in a romantic way,” you argued, still unsure of what to believe.

“You don't need him to come outright and confess his feelings to you. Sometimes actions speak louder than words,” Hermione replied, crossing her arms.

You sighed deeply, thinking about what Hermione had just said. “I guess you have a point,” you said finally, looking up at your friend, “But what if I'm wrong and it turns out he doesn't like me? I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

“That's a risk worth taking, don't you think?” Hermione said with a warm smile. “You’d never know unless you try.”

George had been rehearsing his words in his head for the past few days, trying to find the perfect way to ask you to go to the Yule Ball with him. But every time he tried to work up the courage, his nerves got the best of him. When he saw you walking down the hall, your books clutched to your chest, his palms began to sweat and his heart raced. He knew it was now or never.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, trying to sound calm but feeling a lump forming in his throat.

“Oh, hey, George!” You smiled at him and he felt his knees buckle.

George fidgeted with his hands. “I was wondering... um... you know the Yule Ball is coming up and I was wondering if... if you would like to go with me?” he stuttered, feeling like he was going to pass out any minute.

Your face lit up, and you could feel your heart beating so fast in your chest.

Was Hermione right? Did George like you?

You were hoping he would ask. The conversation with Hermione had given you hope— hope that you may have a chance with him. You had even turned down two Hufflepuff boys who had asked you a few days before because you wanted George to ask you.

If the dance had taken place last year, you would not have considered the possibility of George asking you. Never in a million years. But you had caught his attention, and now it was happening, George Weasley was right in front of you, asking you to be his date to the Christmas Ball, and you were so overjoyed that you felt as if you were touching the sky with your bare hands.

“I’d love to go with you, George!”

George let out a sigh of relief and smiled, feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders. “Great!” he exclaimed. “I was so nervous to ask you," he admitted, feeling embarrassed.

“Don't be silly, George. You're a great guy. There's no one else I'd rather go with than you.” You grinned at him, and he felt his heart swell with happiness.

George had never considered himself to be a lucky person. But that moment, as you strolled down the corridor together, he felt he was the luckiest bloke in the whole Wizarding World. He couldn't keep his eyes off from you, admiring every line of your features. You were beyond gorgeous. He chastised himself for failing to notice earlier. His thoughts turned to the Yule Ball; he has never been a big dancer, but he would be lying if he claimed he wasn't looking forward to it.

He knew it was going to be a memorable night. And, if he played his cards correctly, that night could be the start of much more.

George stood by the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room, tapping his foot anxiously on the rug. The Yule Ball's night had finally arrived. He had been patiently waiting for you to come down from your dormitory. He still couldn't believe how lucky he was to be going to the ball with you.

He finally turned around when he heard footsteps on the stairs and saw you descending. You looked stunning in your silver gown that glistened in the light. George’s heart skipped a beat and couldn't help but gape at you.

“What?” you asked.

“You look… incredible,” George stammered.

You flushed, feeling your heart race at the compliment. “Thank you, George,” you said, smiling shyly. “You look pretty handsome yourself.”

“So, are you ready for tonight?” George asked, clearing his throat, trying to push his anxieties away.

“I think so,” you said. “I'm a little nervous, though.”

“Why?”

“I just don't want to embarrass myself on the dance floor.”

"You won't,” George assured you. "And if you do, we can always blame it on me.”

The Great Hall had been transformed into a winter wonderland for the Yule Ball. The enchanted ceiling twinkled like a starry sky, casting an ethereal glow on the dance floor.

“May I have this dance?” George asked, holding out his hand.

You just smiled and clasped his hand in yours. You laid your head on George's shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You swayed softly to the beat of the music.

As you danced, George felt an overwhelming sense of joy and contentment. This was where he belonged: with you by his side.

Suddenly, Fred appeared out of nowhere, wearing a mischievous grin on his face. “I just wanted to say hello to my favorite couple,” he said slyly, winking at you.

You giggled nervously, feeling your cheeks grow even hotter. As Fred disappeared back into the crowd, George drew you closer to him.

“You know he's just teasing you right?” he said reassuringly.

You smiled up at him. “I know.”

As you continued dancing together, George leaned in close and said, “You know, I've been thinking a lot about us lately.”

Your heart raced with anticipation, wondering where this conversation was headed. “What have you been thinking about?” you softly inquired.

George nodded and took a deep breath before continuing. “I know we've only really known each other for a few months, and that you’re my brother’s friend, but I can't help how I feel whenever I'm around you.”

“And how do you feel?” you asked, your voice gentle.

George's heart was pounding in his chest as he spoke. “I feel like I can't breathe when I'm not with you. You make me laugh, you make me happy, and I just feel this overwhelming sense of... something. Something that I haven't felt with anyone else before.”

Your heart swelled with warmth and happiness as you listened to George pour his heart out. Hearing him utter things you never thought you'd hear him say, at least not directed at you.

“I like you too, George. I've been trying to hide it, but I can't help the way I feel around you either.”

George's heart leapt with joy at your words. “Really?”

You nodded and he smiled wider.

You continued dancing, holding onto each other closely as you enjoyed the night together. It was a moment you would always cherish.

You and George walked through the winding corridors of Hogwarts, your hands tightly intertwined. As you approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she swung open upon seeing you.

“Welcome back, lovebirds,” she sang out.

The Gryffindor Common Room was quiet. Most of the students had already retired to their dormitories. The only sound was the crackling of the fireplace.

“Thanks for such an amazing night, George,” you said, beaming at him.

“It was my pleasure,” George replied, his face splitting into a goofy grin.

There was a moment of silence as you stared at each other, unsure of what to say next. Feeling bold, you leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his warm lips before turning away towards the stairs leading to your dormitory. As you headed up the stairs, you turned back and winked at him playfully.

“Sweet dreams, Georgie.”

George stood there rooted to the spot with beet-red cheeks and an ear-to-ear grin on his face, still trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. He felt like he was walking on air as he made his way up to his dormitory.

As he lay down on his bed with a goofy grin still plastered across his face, Fred turned over from his own bed to face him.

“So?” Fred asked with a mischievous glint in his eye. “How'd it go?”

George chuckled softly to himself before winking at Fred and replied, “I'm pretty sure I'm officially whipped.”

Fred laughed out loud before falling back onto his pillow as George smiled dreamily into the darkness around them, feeling like he had finally found magic beyond measure: love.

[wzrd-wheezes]

Angry make up sex w George because why not

Take Control - George Weasley x Reader

AN - this request literally made me go feral so this turned out way longer than I expected lmfao

1.5k

Contains: arguing, swearing,dom!George, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), light bondage, and just general smuttiness. As always minors dni.

It was rare for Y/N and George to argue. Having lived together for a while, they were used to having little spats that would normally be resolved in a matter of minutes. However, this time things had seemed to escalate rather quickly, and the pair hadn’t spoken for most of the day. They lived in the flat above the twins joke shop, and unfortunately for Y/N and George, Fred was away on business so there was no middle man around to keep the peace.

The argument was over something stupid to do with the twins joke shop, an issue that they were having with one of the their suppliers.

“All I’m saying is, if they’re not going to bother sending us stuff out on time, then we may as well drop them and go to a different supplier,” Y/N said, leaning against their table, her coffee cup clasped between her hands.

“I can’t just drop the supplier without taking it up with Fred though can I?” George retorted

“Fred’s away for a few weeks, George! We can’t just stand around and wait for him to get back.” She argued, “Merlin forbid that you might actually have to make a decision for once!” She stood up quickly from the table, her chair pushing out behind her, the legs of it scraping against the floor with a harsh squeak.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” George asked hotly, standing up to join her.

“I’m saying that you let Fred make all the decisions! You can do this without him you know? You need to take control for once!” she crossed the kitchen to drop her mug in the sink, “I’m going downstairs, we need to open the shop up.”

The atmosphere on the shop floor that morning was frosty, the pair barely uttering two words to eachother. Y/N tried to busy herself tidying things around the shop, refilling the shelves and helping customers. For the most part, the shop was fairly quiet compared to usual. The first time that the pair had spoken since their spat in the morning was when Y/N called George over to assist her with a customer.

“Would you do me a favour and grab another one of these from the stockroom?” she showed him the box that she was holding. George nodded, barely making eye contact with her and walked off. He returned a short while later, handed her the box and walked off again. Y/N finished off with the customer and helped them check out, bidding them farewell as they left. There was a jingle of keys as George walked towards the door, not even looking at Y/N as he passed. He reached into his pocket, retrieving the keys and locked the door.

“Upstairs. Now.” he commanded, making eye contact with Y/N for the first time in hours.

“What are you doing? It’s the middle of the day-”

“Y/N, I swear to Merlin if you don’t go upstairs now…” he trailed off.

“So you’re not going to speak to me all day and then start ordering me around? I don’t think so,” She replied, giving him a look.

Within seconds, he’d moved as fast as lightening and had her pressed against the wall. He looked down at her with fire in his eyes, his hands either side of her head, bracing himself against the wall. Y/N smirked, twigging on to what was happening.

“I’d wipe that fucking smirk off your face if I were you.” He whispered, kicking her feet apart and pressing his knee between her legs. His eyes stared into hers intensely, his lips pressed together. Y/N stayed silent.

"What was it that you said earlier? I need to take control for once?" he questioned her.

"I didn't mean it like-"

George cut her off by smashing his lips against hers. Y/N groaned into his mouth and George used the opportunity of her parted lips to slip his tongue in. The kiss was rough, their teeth clashing together, sinking into each other's lips as if their lives depended on it. Y/N reached up to tangle her hands in his hair, but before her fingertips even brushed against it, George had her wrists pinned against the wall using one large hand. He looked down at her, eyes dark with passion and his lips bruised with the force of their kiss. He dropped her wrists and jerked his head in the direction of the stairs that led up to their flat.

Before they had even reached the bedroom, George had Y/N pinned against the wall once again. This time, using it as leverage so he could lift her up so her legs were wrapped around his waist. He kissed her fiercely as he carried her, throwing her down onto the bed. As soon as he put her down, Y/N scrambled to remove her clothes, hastily throwing them into a pile on the floor.

"Can't wait any longer, huh?" he smirked, his slender fingers reaching down to unbuckle his belt. He slid it out from the belt loops torturously slow, the leather gliding against his fingers smoothly. He kneeled on the bed in front of her, once again using one of his hands to hold her wrists in place. Carefully, he wrapped his belt around her wrists, fastening it to the headboard. He leaned down to kiss her neck.

"If I take it too far just tell me and I'll stop, okay?" he whispered.

"George, if you stop now I might just have to kill you."

Smiling, he stood back up, taking a second to admire his handiwork before removing his shirt and trousers, his dick straining against his boxers.

"You look so fucking pretty like that," he said, before kissing her again. He trailed his kisses down her neck, over her chest and stomach, hovering over the area where she wanted him most.

"George, please." Y/N groaned, tugging against her restraints.

"Hm?" he hummed, glancing up at her, "desperate already are we?"

Y/N bucked her hips up in response, and George quickly had them pinned back against the bed with his arm. He kissed her thighs sweetly, working his way up to her aching core. Y/N moaned out as he nipped the flesh of her inner thighs. Growing impatient himself, George licked a stripe up her pussy, earning a moan from Y/N. He buried his face between her thighs, his skillful tongue working her up easily. He slipped a finger inside her and began pumping quickly before adding another one. George knew exactly how to make Y/N tick, he knew exactly how to move his fingers inside of her in order to make her fall apart for him. It was mere minutes before Y/N was moaning out loudly.

"I'm c-close, George," she gasped. George halted his movements, withdrawing his fingers from inside her, "No, don't stop, please."

He shuffled up the bed so that he was leaning over her.

"If you're gonna cum, then you're gonna do it on my cock, yeah?" he whispered gruffly, shoving his fingers into her mouth, "taste good?"

Leaving two fingers in her mouth, he used his other hand to undo the belt that was restraining her. He threw it on the floor and it landed with a clink. Slipping out of his boxers, he took his cock in his hand and pumped it a few times before lining it up with her entrance. He slipped in slowly, giving her time to adjust before quickening his pace.

"Fucking love having you under me like this," he groaned. With each stroke Y/N brought her hips up to meet his.

They didn't stay in that position long before George flipped her over. Y/N quickly got on all fours, arching her back towards him. He slipped inside her again and quickly got back into the rhythm of fucking her. His hands roamed greedily over her arse, grabbing handfuls of the flesh, occasionally his palm cracking down on it roughly.

"Fuck, George," Y/N moaned out.

"Getting close, baby?" he asked, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her up so her back was pushed against his chest. Y/N nodded frantically. George wrapped a hand around her throat, adjusting her head so that she was looking at him.

"Want to see that pretty face when you cum," he grunted, "Want you to look at me." His hips snapped quickly, chasing his own orgasm as well as hers. Y/N moaned loudly, leaning back into George.

"George I'm-"

"I know, baby." he cut her off, "cum for me."

That was all it took to tip her over the edge as she came undone for him, moaning out his name and a string of curse words. George followed quickly behind, his thrusts becoming more sporadic as he finished inside of her.

They both collapsed on the bed, absolutely spent.

"C'mere," George whispers, holding out his arm so the she could snuggle into him, "M' sorry for arguing earlier."

"We can argue all the time if that's how it ends," Y/N grinned, kissing him on the cheek.

[wifelivvyx]

Hey! Can you write something with Slytherin!reader x Fred Weasley? She and the twins used to be besties, but everything changed when she was sorted in Slytherin. Her family, the twins, etc. She always feels unwanted even in her house bc they see her as a bloody traitor. It's okay if you don't want to write it. Thank you so much for your attention 🩷

of course!! tysm for writing this suggestion babes

The Sorting Hat barely grazed your head before it bellowed, “Slytherin!”

The cheers from the Slytherin table were loud, but your heart sank. You’d never considered it might sort you anywhere but Gryffindor, alongside Fred and George. The Weasley twins had been your best friends for as long as you could remember, practically an extension of your family. But as you caught their wide-eyed, disbelieving expressions across the Great Hall, it hit you: everything was about to change.

It did change—more than you could have imagined. Your family, who had been expecting a brave and bold Gryffindor, grew distant. Your mother stopped sending her usual encouraging letters, and your older brother, a Gryffindor alumnus, looked at you like you were a stranger during holidays. Even the Slytherins—who had been quick to accept you into their fold at first—soon began whispering behind your back, calling you a “Gryffindor spy” or “traitor” when you refused to join in their cruel antics.

But the worst part was Fred and George. They didn’t bully you or outright ignore you; they just stopped trying. The twins who used to save you a seat on the Hogwarts Express, who filled your summers with laughter and mischief, suddenly acted like you didn’t exist.

You tried to act like it didn’t hurt—tried to throw yourself into your studies, into proving you weren’t some “loyal-to-no-one” anomaly. But no matter what you did, that hollow ache in your chest lingered.

It wasn’t until your fifth year that everything came to a head.

You were trudging back to the Slytherin common room after an exhausting day. Potions had been a disaster, thanks to Malfoy’s “hilarious” decision to sabotage your brew, and you’d had to endure yet another round of whispered accusations from your housemates. You just wanted to collapse into bed.

But as you rounded the corner near the library, you nearly collided with Fred Weasley.

“Watch it,” you muttered automatically, trying to sidestep him, but he didn’t move.

“You’re avoiding me,” he said bluntly, crossing his arms.

You blinked, caught off guard. “I’m… what?”

“You heard me. Every time we’re in the same room, you bolt like a niffler after gold. Why?”

The laugh that escaped you was bitter. “Oh, I don’t know, Fred. Maybe because you and George haven’t said more than five words to me since first year?”

Fred’s expression darkened. “That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” you snapped, taking a step closer. “You two were my best friends. I… I thought you cared about me. But the second I got sorted into Slytherin, you dropped me like I was nothing. Do you have any idea what that’s been like?”

Fred’s jaw tightened. “You think this has been easy for us? Watching you swan around with a bunch of snakes who hate our family? Who hate everything we stand for?”

“Oh, so this is about your family now?” you retorted, anger rising. “What about me, Fred? What about how I felt? You abandoned me! You and George just… left. Like I didn’t matter.”

Fred’s face flushed, and for a moment, he looked like he might yell back. Instead, he said, “You made your choice.”

His words hit you like a slap. “My choice?” you repeated, incredulous. “You think I chose this? To lose my family, my friends, my… my everything? I didn’t ask for the Sorting Hat to put me in Slytherin, Fred. But you… you could’ve stayed. You didn’t have to turn your back on me.”

Fred’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “Maybe we didn’t know how to stay,” he said quietly, the fire in his voice dimming. “Maybe we didn’t know if we could trust you.”

The words cut deep, and you felt your throat tighten. “Trust me?” you whispered. “After everything we’ve been through, you don’t trust me?”

Fred looked away, guilt flickering across his face. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he muttered.

“Yes, you did,” you said, voice breaking. “And you know what? Maybe it’s better this way. Because I don’t think I can keep pretending that any of this matters to you anymore.”

You pushed past him, your heart pounding in your chest as you fought to keep the tears at bay. Fred didn’t call after you, and as you walked away, the ache inside you grew heavier than ever.