#george weasley reader insert
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jiroufann · 2 years ago
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one of the best ones ive read yet
it takes two
desc: when you make a stupid mistake, you can feel a shift in your friendships with your two best mates. so what better way to take care of things than to not mention anything to either of them at all? that is, until you’re bursting at the seams and need to get the story out, one way or another.
word count: 5.6k
warning(s): mentions and consumption of alcoholic beverages
A/N: something a little different. i still hope you all enjoy :) took me freaking forever to write this oi veigh. notes: my requests are still currently closed, i am merely working through the ones in my inbox. i do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any platforms.
taglist: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darlingdetails @laneygthememequeen @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @feffffffy​@acciotwinz @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @shadowsinger11 @sleep-i-ness @shadychaoticcollection​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff​ @kageyama-i-want-tobiors​ @letsfightsomeorcs​ @theweasleysredhair​ @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs​ @wand3ringr0s3​ @finecole​ @angelinathebook​ @highly-acidic​ @purplefragile @90shermione​ @zreads​ @susceptible-but-siriusexual​ @hollands-weasley​ @andromedaa-tonks​ @bbystrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle​ @mytreec​ @imseeinggred​ @idont-knowrn​ @auroraboringalis57​ @godricsswords​ @jejegu​ @annasofiaearlobe​ @starlightweasley​ @alwaysasadaesthetic​ @thisismysketchbook​ @izzytheninja​ @imboredandneedalife​ @hemmoporro​ @valwritesx​ @heavenlymidnight​ @hannolannno​ @msmimimerton​ @oh-for-merlins-sake​ @hufflepuff5972​ @pigwidgexn​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breadqueen95​ | message me if you’d like to be added or removed!
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“Fred! Bloody hell, can’t you let me win just once?”
The common room was vibrating with chattering students. Across the table from you sat Fred with a rather smug look painted onto his face as if to say, Won again! You huffed dramatically; you’d been trying this entire term to beat him in a game of exploding snap and had yet to do so. You sulkily sank back into the couch and folded your arms across your chest, all while Fred just sat across from you and laughed. Just then, George plopped down next to you and thrust a goblet that was filled to the brim into your hands.
“Are you giving me this because I’ve lost to your git of a brother for the millionth time this year and need some reconciling?” You lowered your voice and your eyes to the goblet, the insides of it swirling with Gryffindor-deep crimson reds and oranges, the liquid that would course through your veins like a rapid fire.
“What’re you on about?” George asked, a sly smile creeping onto his face, “that’s butterbeer.”
You knew by the colour alone and the sheer burn in the back of your throat when you swallowed that it was definitely not butterbeer. Your eyes began to water at the sting. “Mhmm,”
“To answer your question, Y/N,” Fred dragged your name out a little bit longer than you would have liked, but he just adored teasing you, didn’t he? You narrowed your eyes at him as he relaxed back into the armchair, bringing the goblet of firewhisky to his lips, “no, I can’t let you win just once, I reckon. That wouldn’t be fair.” He then took a too-big-to-handle gulp, and began to cough from the burn of the alcohol.
“Fred, I swear to Merlin, could you be any less subtle, you idiot?” George sneered at his twin, grabbing for the goblet which Fred held above his head. George just sighed. “Can’t let the prefects see I’ve snuck this in.”
You giggled and shoved him. “Oh, you mean, your brother?”
The three of you peered across the common room to see Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny chatting away, Ron and Hermione’s shiny Prefects badges glistening on their robes. You shoved George playfully when he began to laugh.
“What? Ron wouldn’t tell. He’s too scared of us. It’s Hermione I’m worried about.”
You clinked your goblet with his and then with Fred’s and wiggled your eyebrows at the both of them. “Well then, boys, best make sure she doesn’t see, yeah?”
The three of you threw back more gulps and you reckoned it probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but the buzz of the party was making you abandon all logical thoughts.
Keep reading
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yovrnewromantic · 4 months ago
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THE MEANEST GIRL IN HUFFLEPUFF
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a small series inspired by my harry potter oc! and her interactions with her peers! enjoy :) please lmk if you have any requests!!
the masterlist! (written by a hufflepuff in denial so yk its accurate)
Harry Potter... Coming soon...
Draco Malfoy
Cedric Diggory
Hermione Granger
Theodore Nott
Ron Weasley
Mattheo Riddle
Lorenzo Berkshire
Fred Weasley
Blaise Zabini
Pansy Parkinson
Ginny Weasley
George Weasley
Luna Lovegood
Neville Longbottom
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sailtomarina · 7 months ago
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Buy None, Get Two
cw: smut, M/M/F
It was supposed to be a short stop, your intention being to pick up a few personal items then head on home. Today was the one and only day of the Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes Spring Sale, after all, and their lines of WonderWitch were second to none in creativity and efficacy.
In hindsight, it would have been smarter to enter like any other customer from the front door. The main entrance meant light, open space, and plenty of witnesses. You would have been able to shop in peace with little interruption but the knowing wink of the clerk.
Let’s just say that eagerness played a part in your absence of thought. You tossed on your favourite corduroy skirt, a heavy knit jumper, and your trainers before grabbing your purse.
You went through the Floo by habit, stepping directly from your cottage into the twins’ flat above the shop. Were this any other day, the lights would have been out, the space quiet, the telltale ginger hair bent over experiments or paperwork downstairs in their offices.
So when you walked directly into the well-lit sitting room where Fred and George lounged on the sofa directly facing the fireplace, you froze.
“Well, well, what do we have here, Forge?”
“I don’t know, Gred. It looks like our girl’s here to take advantage of some great savings.”
You could feel your lips curling into the familiar grin these two always prompted, but you angled your body towards the front door in an attempt to squeeze by safely. “Now boys, I only have a small window of time that I intend to use wisely–”
Your well-laid plans ended in a squeak as you were lifted off your feet and laid unceremoniously across two sets of legs. Fred’s arm cradled your head carefully while his other automatically wrapped around your waist. George immediately took to removing your trainers, strong fingers massaging circles against the tight muscles and turning you limp.
“Our little sale has been more successful than anticipated and we thought we’d get away for a breather–,” Fred said lightly, his hand now tracing down your cheek.
“–so your arrival comes at a perfect time, love,” George picked up where his brother left off. You couldn’t help the sigh that escaped you as he slipped off your socks. His hands were warm against your smooth skin, and you thanked yourself for the foresight of shaving the night before.
“What did you two have in mind?” While you knew exactly what it was you wanted, you decided to play coy. They’d disrupted your original ideas, after all. You couldn’t make things too easy for them.
“Well…” Fred’s fingers propped your chin up as he leaned down to hover just out of reach, “that depends.”
“On?”
Your eyes flickered away from Fred to watch as George shifted on the chaise, separating your legs so he could turn and kneel between them. 
George licked his lips as he eyed the two of you, and his hands moved up your thighs to continue his gentle rubbing. “On what it was you were planning on purchasing.”
Trapped between their warm bodies as you were, you couldn’t help the flush that worked its way up your chest to fill your cheeks. They smirked at the sight.
“I wanted to pick up some Daydream Charms,” you continued despite the way Fred clicked his tongue in disapproval, “Crush Blush, since I’m almost out, and a Tongue Twister–”
“I can understand the blush, but do you really need the others when you already have two wizards who are more than happy to fulfil any fantasies you might have?” George interrupted.
His hands slipped beneath the thick fabric of your skirt, long fingers sweeping up the expanse of your thighs and encouraging you to widen them as he bent forward.
“George, you really don’t need to–”
“He wants to, love, as do I,” Fred said, gripping your chin firmly and raising his eyebrows. “Or do you want us to stop? Just say the word.”
The mouth that had been kissing its way up your inner thigh paused now above your centre, the heat of his breath priming you for a very different sort of tongue. A gush pulsed through you at past memories of how skillful they were with their fingers and mouths. They were insatiable, their focus unwavering and discerning of how every single sensation affected you. They used that knowledge to their advantage and your demise, turning you into a helpless puddle at their beck and call.
Sometimes it mortified you, afterwards, thinking about all the ways you unravelled at their touch, how easily they could make you say and do things you never would have dared on your own. You weren’t a very open person, despite how your body and mind seemed to unfurl at the mere suggestion of their eyes on yours.
You knew without a shred of doubt that, were you to say so, Fred and George would remove their hands. You hadn’t put a label on what it was that went on between the three of you just yet. You hoped, yes. You craved and dreamt.
“Don’t stop.” Low and breathless, you sounded desperate because, well, you were.
“Your coins are no good to us, sweetheart,” Fred murmured. He maintained a steady commentary while George mouthed you through the thin cotton of your knickers. 
The barrier was a joke sodden as it was with the combination of his spit and your steady arousal. He sealed his mouth against you and hummed. The vibrations sent you into a backbreaking arch with a moan. It was only Fred’s hands against your shoulders that stopped you from lifting off of the chaise entirely. His chuckle was warm against your cheek, his kiss a reassuring pressure to your temple.
The moment the gusset of your knickers was swept to the side and George ran a flattened tongue the full length of your slit, you cried out, scrabbling for purchase on something, anything.
Fred met you, fingers threading through yours and lips crashing down to muffle your cries. Slowly, he brought your hand up with his own to wrap around your throat. He didn’t squeeze, but he didn’t have to. The mere presence was close enough of a claim to tip you over the edge as George plunged two fingers inside and curled them upward.
“Pretty girl, so sweet and good for us,” Fred cooed. “Can you be good for a bit longer?” His hips shifted beneath your head where it rested. You could feel the thick length of him straining against the constraints.
“Please!” This was why you’d come over, wasn’t it? You’d dreamt last night of a scenario much like this one where the twins moved over and around you, taking turns wringing pleasure from you like another one of their experiments. 
You only had to turn your head the barest amount before your jaw opened wide to take in his bared cock, while, at the same time, you felt a blunt pressure at your cunt. Like they shared one mind, they impaled you from both ends. Hands pressed against your hips and the back of your head, bringing you flush against them. You trembled, and you gagged, and still they held on tight.
“Nnnnn,” you couldn’t speak with your mouth and throat stuffed full; you weren’t sure how much longer you could last like this.
One of them, you weren’t sure who, shushed you. Fingers brushed against your clit, a fist tightened around your hair, spots danced across your vision through which you could only see the milky skin of Fred’s lower abs and a thatch of red hair slightly darker than the rest.
Just as you felt like you were about to pass out, they pulled back, and you gasped for air just in time to be filled once again. They repeated the process until you shouted around Fred’s cock and shook beneath George’s circling thumb.
“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, I’m–” Fred groaned deep as he started to come, spilling down your throat as you worked to swallow all of him. “Look at you, drinking me up.” He didn’t care about the cum still coating your lips as he bent down to tangle his tongue with yours, thrusting deep and swirling around as if he meant to clean you up.
His mouth caught your cries as George pulled your knees up and spread them in a wide v, thrusting as deep as he could to finish. George nuzzled against your tits over the jumper you still wore as he pulsed inside of you. The slight tingle of magic across your abdomen let you know one of them had cast a contraception charm. It wasn’t until he slipped out of you and sat up that Fred pulled back from your kiss.
“Any chance we can convince you to join us downstairs?” George asked as he offered you your knickers. 
They both wore satisfied grins, eyes crinkled at the corners and lips swollen and red. Given the state of their faces and how their hair stood in disarray, there was no question about what they’d been doing in their free time. 
You tapped your chin as you pretended to think. “I do still have a few more fantasies I’d like to experience if there are any more Daydream charms left…”
Laughter bubbled out of you at the insulted looks they gave you, a joy that turned into dismay when George vanished your knickers with a casual wave of his hand.
“Cheeky witches don’t get to wear knickers,” he sniffed. The act was just that, his smirk giving away his amusement.
“We do still need to eat, if you’d like to join us for lunch.” The uncharacteristic seriousness in Fred’s voice prompted you to look more carefully at him.
“Are you asking me out on a date, Fred Weasley?”
“What if we are?” His chin came up in that stubborn way of his you sometimes saw around his family and rivals. George looked much the same, even with the hint of his smile remaining.
You could slap the invitation down with your usual playful air, and they’d likely go along with your decision. While none of you had strictly gone out of your way to hide the attraction you felt for one another, this would be the first such instance of publicly acknowledging it as such.
“I could be persuaded…”
You looked them both over, biting your lip as you imagined all the ways they could go about convincing you. The possibilities were endless, your mind a playground for three. They leaned forward, beckoned by the prize dangling before them.
Then you bolted, aiming for the door sans knickers and trainers knowing full well they’d never let you make your escape. Laughter rang out behind you, then the familiar weave of their magic wound around you and yanked you back into their arms.
Right where you belonged.
1825 WC
5.19.24 FB: Lauren’s Kitchen prompt: “sale”
Cross-posted on Tumblr, Facebook, and AO3.
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im-trying-my-best-yall · 2 months ago
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Every now and then ill be looking for a George fic to read and i'll stumble across something for Fred instead because theres a great deal more content for Fred than George and the description will sound like an interesting concept and im so starved for fics that i'll try reading it and I genuinely cant read it
I'm sorry to all the Fred girlies out there i know you love your man but it feels like im cheating on my boy and i just cant do it
like thats my husband and thats his brother and i physically cant
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magical-reid · 28 days ago
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Fighting For You
Pairing: George Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader
Warnings: Cormac McLaggen
Word Count 1.9K
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40: “Don’t go on that date.” “Why?” “You know why.” “Say it.”
38: “I will never stop fighting for you. I will never stop protecting you.”
______________________________________________________________
The golden light of the setting sun filtered through the Gryffindor Tower windows, casting a soft, warm glow over the common room. The usual chatter of students winding down from their classes filled the air, but in one quiet corner, two Gryffindors stood out from the crowd. You and George Weasley sat close together in a plush armchair by the fire, your fingers brushing every so often as you leaned into his side.
It had been a peaceful evening, the hum of conversation around you blending into the background, yet for some reason, your focus remained on George. He’d always been charming—his mischievous grin and infectious laugh had a way of pulling you in. But lately, there was something more. A depth to his gestures that made your heart race. 
He’d bring you little surprises—chocolate frogs, a wildflower bouquet he’d snuck from the greenhouse, or just a handwritten note that left you breathless. His presence had become the highlight of your days, and yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling that your growing feelings for him were something you couldn’t allow. You didn’t dare admit what you already knew.
Because the truth was, George Weasley was everything to you, and you knew it.
But every time someone teased you about being “a couple,” George would laugh it off with a grin, brushing it aside. “Nah, we’re just mates,” he’d say, and though you wanted to believe him, each smile, each touch felt as if it meant something more. But how could you be sure? He always shut down the idea of a relationship, and you lacked the courage to push further. So, you convinced yourself that being "just friends" was enough.
______________________________________________________________
One evening, as you sat in the common room, sharing popcorn with George while the fire crackled in the background, Fred approached with his signature mischievous grin.
“You two are practically inseparable,” he teased, glancing between you and George. “Just get together already.”
You exchanged a glance with George. “We’re just friends,” he quickly said, a casual tone hiding the tension beneath.
“But you act like a couple,” Fred pointed out, winking at you. “Holding hands, all the cuddles... It’s obvious.”
George laughed nervously. “Yeah, well, you know. We’re just really close friends.”
Your stomach twisted. “We are just friends, Fred,” you said with a forced smile.
Fred raised an eyebrow but dropped the subject. Still, it was hard to ignore how everyone else seemed to see what was happening.
One evening, after dinner, as you walked back to the common room, Ginny smirked at you both. “So, when’s the wedding, then?” she teased. “You two have been acting like a couple for months.”
Your cheeks flushed, but George quickly deflected. “We’re just friends, Ginny. Nothing more.”
But even as he said it, you couldn’t help but notice how his hand lingered on the small of your back, the warmth of his touch spreading through you like fire.
______________________________________________________________
The teasing from your friends never helped. Fred was the first to start it one afternoon in the Great Hall. As you and George entered, he nudged George with a sly grin. “Oi, George, looks like you’ve got something on your cheek,” Fred said, exaggerating the motion of wiping his face. “Oh wait, no. It’s just your girlfriend!”
You nearly choked on your pumpkin juice, but George only rolled his eyes. “Fred, don’t be ridiculous. We’re just friends,” he said, as if the word “friend” was the most natural thing in the world.
But everyone could see it—the way George walked you to class, his hand brushing yours as if he couldn’t bear to be apart from you. The way he would sneak glances across the room at meals, catching your eye with that secret smile. You’d caught him staring at you more than once when he thought you weren’t looking, and when you leaned in to whisper something to him, he lingered just a bit too long, as though savoring the moment.
And then, of course, there was the way he always touched you. A hand on your back as you passed him in the corridor, a gentle squeeze of your hand when you laughed at one of his jokes. It was never anything overt, but the affection was undeniable, and the whole school seemed to notice.
“Oi, George,” Lee Jordan piped up one day as he watched you and George on the steps leading to the courtyard, heads close together as you whispered. “When are you two going to admit you’re together? You’re always staring at each other like that… I’m not blind, mate.”
George, who had been laughing at something you said, froze for a moment, then smiled sheepishly. “Lee, we’re just friends. Nothing more.”
But even as he spoke, you noticed that he didn’t look at you. His gaze flicked away quickly. Your stomach tightened. It always stung. Why couldn’t he just admit it? Why wouldn’t he say it?
______________________________________________________________
The day you agreed to go on a date with Cormac McLaggen, you knew it was a mistake. It wasn’t that you liked him, but you needed a distraction. You needed to stop falling for George, to stop clinging to the hope that maybe���just maybe—he might feel the same way. You were trying to prove to yourself that you could move on, that you could forget.
When McLaggen had asked you out, you’d acted nonchalant, like it was no big deal. But inside, the voice kept whispering that this was just a way to distance yourself from George—to forget the way he constantly filled your thoughts.
As you rounded the corner near the portrait hole to head to bed, you nearly walked straight into George.
“George!” you exclaimed, startled. But there was something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. He wasn’t smiling. His face was set, his jaw tight.
“Don’t go on that date,” he said, his voice low and serious.
Your breath caught, but you managed to stay composed. “Why?” you asked, though you already knew.
George swallowed, his fists clenched at his sides. “You know why.”
You crossed your arms, refusing to back down. “Say it.”
His gaze was filled with something deep, something you couldn’t quite place. “Because I care about you. I don’t want him to hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking on the last words, as if the weight of them was too much.
Something inside you shifted, but you smiled to hide it. “It’s just a date, George. I’ll be fine.”
But he didn’t seem convinced. He took a step closer, his voice soft but intense. “I don’t care if it’s just a date. I don’t trust him. I don’t want you to be hurt.”
You met his eyes, feeling the tension in the air. For a moment, you wanted to confess everything—to tell him how you felt. But the words never came. Instead, you forced a smile. “I’ll be alright.”
And as you walked away that night, the weight of the unspoken words hung between you. What if George felt the same way? What if he didn’t? The uncertainty gnawed at you.
______________________________________________________________
The next day, George was back to his usual self, teasing you with a grin and slipping a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans into your hand as you made your way to the library.
The two of you were inseparable, always joking, always touching. Sometimes, his hand brushed your back as you walked together, or he’d drape an arm over your shoulder while telling a joke. Yet, whenever someone would tease him about being your boyfriend, George would laugh it off, saying, “We’re just friends, nothing more.”
Each time, it made your heart sink.
It didn’t help that your friends noticed.
______________________________________________________________
That evening, as you headed to the Great Hall to meet up for your date with Cormac, you spotted George standing near the stairs with Fred, talking animatedly. The moment his eyes met yours, something shifted. His expression faltered just for an instant, a flicker of emotion you couldn’t place, before he masked it with a grin.
You took a deep breath and stepped forward, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. As you approached Cormac, he greeted you with a roguish smile and offered his arm. You took it reluctantly, but your eyes lingered on George. He was watching you, his gaze unreadable.
You two made your way to the Three Broomsticks, where you found yourself sitting across from Cormac, nervously playing with your mug as he rambled on about his Quidditch skills. But it wasn’t Cormac that held your attention. It was George who had found himself sitting just 3 tables over from where you sat.
From across the room, George watched you intently. His face was tight with barely concealed worry, his gaze never straying far from you. When Cormac’s hand brushed your leg under the table, your stomach twisted. You didn’t like it.
But it was when McLaggen leaned in too close, his hand on your thigh, that you felt a pang of panic. Before you could react, a sharp voice cut through the noise.
“Oi, McLaggen! Hands off!” George’s voice was loud, and he was already striding toward you with purpose. He shoved McLaggen away with surprising strength.
“George, what are you—” you began, but George didn’t let you finish. He stepped between you and Cormac, glaring at him.
“Stay away from her,” George said, voice low and fierce. “I don’t care who you think you are. You hurt her, and you’ll answer to me.”
You felt your heart race as George turned to face you. “You shouldn’t be with someone like him,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours.
Your breath caught in your throat, and everything inside you seemed to still. “Why?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why do you care?”
“Because I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you this for months,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “But I’m an idiot. I was lying to myself. And to you. I’ve been afraid to tell you how I feel because I didn’t want to ruin everything. But I can’t keep pretending anymore. I love you”
And then, without another word, George closed the space between you and kissed you. “Please believe me.”
It was everything you’d dreamed of. It was slow, soft, and full of all the unspoken things you’d both been holding back.
______________________________________________________________
The next day, George went all out. Fireworks lit up the sky, the colors dazzling as they danced above the Hogwarts castle. In the center of the courtyard, surrounded by their friends, George stood with a bouquet of roses and a nervous grin.
“I know this is a bit much,” he began, his voice shaking slightly, but his eyes full of confidence, “but I’ve spent too long hiding how I feel. So, here it is: I love you. Will you be my girlfriend?”
You gasped, heart racing. For a moment, you could hardly breathe, overcome by the enormity of his gesture. And then, without hesitation, you whispered, “Yes.”
George smiled, a wide, brilliant grin that matched the fireworks in the sky. And as you kissed him, the entire courtyard erupted into cheers, but nothing could drown out the sound of your heart, finally at peace.
And in that moment, all the teasing, all the uncertainty, melted away. You started to believe that this was where you belonged—with him.
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enweasley · 9 months ago
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would it be a good idea to write a fanfiction about my own character in hogwarts legacy? He's a weasley (duh doi) - Finn Weasley. i think it would be cool to write a reader insert about him (cuz holy smokes im falling for him) and base imagines off the hogwarts legacy plot but i dont wanna do it if people arent gonna be interested
lmk :)
ps - i have a bunch of gif ideas for him omg
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moon-lit-petal · 2 months ago
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From Chaos to Comfort Pt 4
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George Weasley x Fem!Hufflepuff!Reader
Summery: George becomes acutely awear that sometimes, people aren't the biggest fans of his and Freds pranks.
Warnings: Enemies to lovers(?), angst, george fell hard and fast, I tried to do a slow burn but you can tell I gave up lol, also Y/N is a little mean to George ngl
Word Count: 3.9k
Notes: This is the last part I'm gonna do for this mini series lol, I said I didn't wanna make it too long and I got impatient sorry 😅 feel free to submit an ask if you wanna see me write about your favorite character!^-^
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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Days passed since the kiss, each one stretching into an eternity for Y/N. She found herself slipping into the familiar routines of her life—studying in the library, tending to her plants in the greenhouse, and spending time with her fellow Hufflepuffs—but the world felt different. Each time she entered a room, her heart raced at the thought of encountering George.
Avoiding him became a full-time job. She deliberately chose the far side of the Great Hall at meals, strategically positioned herself at the edge of the library, and spent countless evenings wandering the grounds, always making sure to steer clear of the Quidditch pitch where George and Fred often practiced.
Y/N’s feelings were a tangled mess, and she didn’t know how to sort through them. She was still angry at George for his part in the pranks, yet there was something undeniably magnetic about him. The memory of his warm lips against hers haunted her thoughts, a constant reminder of the connection they had shared. She felt both drawn to him and terrified of what that meant.
Meanwhile, George respected her need for space, though it pained him deeply. He watched her from a distance, his heart aching every time he caught a glimpse of her laughter with her friends or the way her brow furrowed in concentration as she read. Each day without her felt like a missed opportunity, and he longed for a chance to explain himself fully—to show her the depth of his feelings and how he was willing to change.
As the days turned into a week, their friends began to notice the tension in the air. Whispers started circulating among the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, with speculation running rampant about what had transpired in the library. “Did you see Y/N? She hasn’t spoken to George in days!” one student remarked. “I heard they had some sort of argument,” another added, eyes wide with intrigue.
Y/N could feel the pressure mounting, the weight of their scrutiny bearing down on her. It was hard to focus on her studies or enjoy time with her friends when every conversation seemed to pivot toward George and the kiss.
“You okay, Y/N?” one of her housemates asked during lunch, concern etched on their face. “You’ve seemed a bit off lately.”
Y/N forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine, just… busy with classes,” she replied, hoping to deflect further questioning. But deep down, she felt far from fine. The uncertainty of her feelings and the pressure of the rumors left her feeling more isolated than ever.
As she sat there, pushing her food around on her plate, she caught a glimpse of George across the hall. He was talking with Fred, laughter in his eyes, but the moment their gazes met, everything fell silent. George’s smile faltered, and for a brief moment, the world around them faded away.
Y/N’s heart raced, her pulse pounding in her ears. She quickly looked away, panic rising in her chest. She wasn’t ready to face him—not yet. The thought of addressing what happened between them felt insurmountable.
“I just need more time,” she whispered to herself, feeling overwhelmed.
But deep down, Y/N knew she couldn’t avoid him forever. The connection they had forged—though fraught with confusion and anger—was real, and it demanded acknowledgment. As the days wore on, the conflict inside her grew louder, urging her to confront her feelings head-on.
Back at the Gryffindor table, George felt the weight of the silence that enveloped them whenever Y/N was near. He wanted nothing more than to bridge the gap between them, to reach out and tell her that he was still there, still waiting. But he didn’t want to pressure her; he wanted her to come to him when she was ready.
With each passing day, George resolved to find the right moment to speak to her again. He just hoped that when that moment came, Y/N would be ready to listen. The thought of her staying in turmoil was unbearable, and he silently vowed to do whatever it took to show her that he was sincere in his feelings.
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The library was quiet, the only sounds being the rustle of pages and the occasional creak of the wooden shelves. Y/N found herself wandering through the aisles, drawn to the familiar haven of books and solitude. But tonight, her mind was elsewhere—she was here for George.
After days of avoidance, she had finally mustered the courage to seek him out. It felt like a leap into the unknown, but she needed to confront the turmoil inside her. With each step toward the back of the library, her heart raced, anticipation and anxiety twisting together in her chest.
As she rounded the corner, she spotted him at a table, hunched over a stack of books, his usual grin replaced by a look of deep concentration. He seemed lost in thought, and for a moment, Y/N hesitated, unsure if she should interrupt. But the weight of her unresolved feelings urged her forward.
“George?” she called softly, her voice breaking the serene atmosphere.
He looked up, surprise flashing across his face. “Y/N,” he said, quickly sitting up straighter. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Taking a deep breath, Y/N stepped closer, her hands nervously twisting together. “I… I wanted to talk.”
George nodded, his expression serious as he gestured to the empty chair across from him. “Of course. Please, sit.”
As she settled into the chair, Y/N felt the tension crackle between them. She knew what she needed to say, but the words felt heavy on her tongue. “I’m sorry for how I reacted the other day,” she began, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “I was angry and confused, and I took it out on you.”
George’s eyes softened, and he leaned forward slightly. “It’s okay. I understand. I never meant to hurt you.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “I should have stopped the pranks a long time ago. Fred can be relentless, but I should have done more to protect you. I’m really sorry.”
The sincerity in his voice touched her, and Y/N felt some of the tension begin to ease. “I know it’s not all your fault, but I guess I just… I didn’t want to feel vulnerable. I’ve spent so much time hiding from everyone, and your pranks made me feel exposed.”
“I get that,” George replied, his tone earnest. “I didn’t realize how deeply it affected you until it was too late. I promise, I’m done with the pranks for good. I just want to be someone you can trust.”
Y/N took a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief and lingering uncertainty. “I want to believe you, George. I really do.” She hesitated, her heart pounding as she continued. “I’ve started to feel something for you too, but it scares me. I don’t want to be hurt again.”
George’s expression shifted, hope flickering in his eyes. “I’d never want to hurt you, Y/N. I care about you, more than I can put into words. I’ve fallen for you, and I’m willing to be patient, to show you that I’m not like that.”
She felt a warmth spreading through her, a cautious hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find a way forward. “I appreciate that,” she said, her voice softening. “I just need time to process everything. To learn to trust you.”
“I can wait,” George assured her, his sincerity washing over her like a soothing balm. “I’m here whenever you’re ready.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, the weight of their conversation settling around them. Y/N felt the walls she had built start to crumble, a flicker of connection igniting between them. The tension that had once felt suffocating began to transform into something hopeful, something worth exploring.
“I’ve always admired your strength, you know,” George said quietly, breaking the silence. “You have this quiet way of standing your ground, even when it feels like the whole world is against you. It’s something I really respect.”
Y/N felt her cheeks heat at his words, a shy smile creeping onto her lips. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”
With that, they shared a moment of understanding, two hearts gradually opening up to the possibility of something new. The fear still lingered in the corners of Y/N’s mind, but George’s presence felt grounding, like a promise of support amid the chaos.
As the night wore on, they talked about everything and nothing, laughter gradually returning to their conversation. The bond between them began to shift, transforming the tension of the past into a tentative but hopeful future. And while Y/N knew she still had a long way to go in learning to trust, she felt ready to take the first steps alongside George, together navigating the path toward something more.
---------
With each passing day, Y/N and George began to carve out a new rhythm together. Their interactions were a delicate dance of tentative steps and unspoken emotions, as they gradually rebuilt the trust that had been shattered. It felt both exhilarating and terrifying, but each moment brought them closer to something that felt real.
The soft evening light filtered through the library windows, casting golden hues across the tables and shelves. George sat beside Y/N, his gaze flickering from his notes to her profile as she read, oblivious to his attention. He didn’t even know how they’d ended up studying together—somehow, after their kiss by the lake, their paths seemed to cross more naturally, as if the universe itself wanted them to be near each other.
The silence between them was comfortable, with only the occasional sound of a page turning or a quill scratching across parchment. Still, George couldn’t shake the flutter in his stomach, a quiet thrill every time their shoulders brushed as they leaned closer to share notes.
He watched her tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, her brow furrowing as she scribbled a correction on her page. Without thinking, he whispered, “You look adorable when you’re concentrating, you know.”
Y/N glanced up, a hint of a blush rising in her cheeks. She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “And you look ridiculous when you pretend to know anything about Potions.”
George chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guilty as charged. Maybe I just wanted an excuse to sit here with you.”
Her cheeks reddened even more, and for a moment, they just looked at each other, the laughter fading into something softer. It was like they were both testing the waters of this new closeness, careful not to push too far but unable to ignore the magnetism between them.
Finally, she broke the gaze, focusing on her parchment again. “You know, I didn’t think you’d be interested in spending so much time in the library.”
“Neither did I,” George admitted, leaning closer. “But maybe it’s growing on me.” He glanced down at her notes, nodding as if he understood. “Or maybe it’s just the company.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re terrible at studying, you know.”
“Ah, well, maybe you can teach me a thing or two,” he replied, his voice light but his expression earnest.
A comfortable quiet settled over them again, but this time, George felt a warm satisfaction. There was a new ease between them, a budding friendship colored by the thrill of something more. And though neither of them said it out loud, they both felt it—the steady pull drawing them closer, bit by bit.
In the corridors of Hogwarts, small encounters became charged with electricity. There were days when Y/N would walk past George, their shoulders brushing just enough to send a thrill through her. She’d glance over her shoulder, catching his eye for a split second before her heart raced and she looked away, a smile tugging at her lips. George would return the gaze, his expression softening, a silent understanding passing between them.
In Charms class one afternoon, Y/N found herself seated beside George once again. It had become a familiar arrangement, as if some invisible force always pulled them into each other’s orbit. Today, Professor Flitwick was lecturing on wand techniques, and although Y/N tried to focus on his instructions, the warmth of George beside her was impossible to ignore.
As Professor Flitwick turned to demonstrate on the blackboard, George leaned in close, his voice a soft murmur. “Reckon he’s going to make us try that spell next?” he asked, his breath tickling her ear.
Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, her heart beating a little faster. “Probably,” she replied, forcing herself to sound steady. “Though I don’t think you’re paying attention enough to pull it off.” She smirked, her own quiet bravery surprising her.
George’s eyes sparkled, his grin widening. “Cheeky,” he whispered back, pretending to take exaggerated notes in response. His arm brushed hers, and though it was barely a touch, it sent a jolt through her.
A moment later, both of them reached for the Charms textbook between them. Their fingers collided, lingering for just a second too long before she pulled back with a shy, “Sorry.”
But George didn’t flinch, his hand remaining steady on the book, his gaze warm and reassuring. “No need to apologize,” he replied softly, his voice carrying a gentle sincerity that made her heart flutter. “I don’t mind.”
The words lingered between them, heavy with an unspoken promise. Y/N dared a glance up at him, finding that his eyes held something deeper, something that made her wonder if he felt the same invisible pull she did. For the rest of the class, their hands would brush occasionally, and with each touch, the world around them seemed to fade just a little bit more.
In the library, their shared study sessions turned into something more. They’d sit close together, their heads bent over the same book, and George would occasionally let his arm rest against hers, a silent invitation. Y/N felt a mix of excitement and caution, her heart fluttering at the proximity. Each time she caught George looking at her, a warmth spread through her, though she quickly brushed it off as mere friendship.
“Are you always this distracted during study sessions?” he teased one day, his voice low, playful, yet filled with a sincerity that made her stomach flutter.
“I’m just trying to focus,” Y/N replied, trying to sound serious but failing as a smile broke through. “It’s hard when you keep talking.”
George leaned a little closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I could help you with that. Less talking, more studying?”
Y/N laughed, the sound light and free. “Maybe you should try it, then.”
Their shared moments were interspersed with lingering touches—George would hand her a book, their fingers brushing, and Y/N would feel a spark. Or he’d help her adjust her bag as they left class, his hand resting on her shoulder a beat longer than necessary. Each small interaction was filled with a weighty significance, and with every shared laugh or stolen glance, the connection between them deepened.
Yet, amid these moments of growing intimacy, Y/N remained guarded. She often found herself wrestling with the fear that she might be setting herself up for heartbreak again. There were flashes of doubt that crossed her mind, reminders of the pranks and the humiliation that had come before. Would George be able to prove he was more than just a prankster? Would he stay once the novelty wore off?
But George, ever patient, didn’t push her. He understood that trust couldn’t be rushed and was willing to wait for as long as it took. He knew he had to prove himself to her—not just with words but through actions that demonstrated his genuine care and respect for her.
One afternoon, they found themselves taking a leisurely stroll around the lake, the sun dipping low in the sky, painting everything in warm hues of orange and pink. The air was filled with the scent of autumn leaves and the distant sound of laughter from students playing Quidditch.
“Do you ever miss being just a regular student?” George asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.
“Sometimes,” Y/N admitted, glancing at him. “But I think I’m learning to appreciate the chaos.”
George chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s not all chaos, you know. Some of it’s… fun.”
“Fun for you, maybe,” she shot back, but there was no bite in her words, only a hint of teasing.
They reached the edge of the lake, and George picked up a small pebble, skipping it across the water. “What about this?” he asked. “Just you and me, no pranks, no chaos.”
Y/N smiled, feeling the warmth of the moment wash over her. “I like that idea.”
As the sun began to set, painting the sky in a breathtaking display of colors, they stood side by side, their shoulders almost touching, hearts racing in sync with the rhythm of the world around them.
In that tranquil moment, Y/N realized she was slowly starting to trust him, bit by bit. And though she still held reservations, the promise of something deeper began to bloom within her—a tentative but undeniable hope for what could be.
“George,” she began softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah?” he replied, glancing at her, his expression attentive.
Y/N took a breath, feeling the weight of her words. “I think I’m ready to see where this goes.”
A smile broke across George’s face, lighting up his features with genuine joy. “Really?” he asked, the hope in his voice unmistakable.
“Yeah,” she said, her heart racing. “But just take it slow, okay? I don’t want to rush into anything.”
“Absolutely,” he assured her, his voice steady and sincere. “We’ll take it at your pace.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over them, Y/N felt a new sense of clarity. She was ready to embrace this slow-burning romance, to explore the depths of their connection, and to finally allow herself to be vulnerable. And as they stood there, side by side, Y/N realized that she was no longer afraid of what lay ahead. With George by her side, she felt ready to step into the unknown, together.
As the days turned into weeks, Y/N and George settled into a rhythm that felt comfortable and genuine. Their relationship flourished in the quiet spaces they carved out for themselves—away from the prying eyes of Hogwarts, where they could truly be themselves without the weight of expectations or the shadow of past pranks.
The two of them often found solace in the nooks of the library or under the sprawling branches of the ancient trees around the Black Lake, where they would share laughter and secrets. George had traded in his mischievous pranks for thoughtful gestures that spoke volumes of his affection. He’d surprise Y/N with her favorite sweets from Honeydukes or bring her a rare book he thought she’d enjoy, his eyes lighting up with joy whenever she smiled.
On this particular evening, as the sun dipped low out of the sky, painting the horizon with shades of purple and blue, they found themselves sitting on the edge of the lake again. The air was crisp, the gentle lapping of the water creating a soothing backdrop to their conversation. The lake had become a safe space for the two, especially after dark. It was quiet, private, no one to disrupt them.
Y/N leaned back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the shimmering surface of the water. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m actually starting to enjoy being around you,” she teased, glancing sideways at George.
He chuckled, his face breaking into a warm smile. “You know, I take that as a huge compliment coming from you.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, a grin tugging at her lips. “Just don’t get used to it. I’m still cautious about all of this.”
George’s expression softened, and he turned to face her more fully. “I get it. Trust takes time, and I’m not going anywhere. I want to be the kind of guy you can count on.”
She nodded, her heart swelling with warmth at his sincerity. “I really appreciate that. You’ve been so patient with me, and it means a lot.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sounds being the rustling leaves and the distant chirping of birds settling in for the night. The sun’s last rays cast a golden glow around them, creating an intimate cocoon of warmth that made Y/N feel safe and cherished.
“Can I ask you something?” George said, breaking the quiet.
“Sure,” she replied, curiosity piquing.
“What’s been the biggest surprise for you in all of this?” He gestured between them, his expression serious.
Y/N took a moment to ponder. “Honestly? I think it’s how easy it is to be around you now. I was so caught up in the past—your pranks, my frustration—that I didn’t see the kind person behind it all. You’ve changed.”
George looked pleased, but he also seemed to be searching for something. “I’m glad to hear that, but I also want you to know that I’m still a bit of a prankster at heart. It’s just… I’ve learned when to tone it down.”
Y/N laughed softly. “You can be playful, just not at my expense, okay?”
“Deal,” he replied, grinning. Then he grew serious again, leaning closer. “But seriously, I want to show you that I’m not just some prank-loving fool. You’re important to me, and I want to be someone who makes you feel valued.”
“George…” she started, unsure of where her thoughts were leading.
But he interrupted her gently. “I know I’ve messed up in the past, but I want to make it right. I want to be a part of your world, Y/N.”
And just like that, all the walls she had built around her heart began to crumble. It was still a cautious step forward, but Y/N felt a wave of trust wash over her. The ache of past hurt didn’t disappear completely, but with George’s unwavering support, it became easier to envision a future without that burden.
“Okay,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s take this one day at a time.”
With that, George’s face broke into a wide grin, his joy contagious. “I can do that.”
They spent the rest of the evening basking in the warmth of their connection, sharing stories and dreams for the future. Each laugh and shared glance brought them closer, a sweet reminder that they were building something beautiful together—a foundation of trust, respect, and undeniable chemistry.
As the stars twinkle overhead, Y/N leaned against George’s shoulder, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. The weight of her past began to fade, replaced by a sense of hope for what lay ahead.
In that moment, with George by her side, she finally felt at ease, ready to embrace the unfolding journey of their relationship. Together, they were no longer just a quiet Hufflepuff and a mischievous Gryffindor; they were two souls discovering a deeper understanding of love, trust, and companionship—a new beginning filled with endless possibilities.
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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gigicreates562 · 1 year ago
Text
The Bet- Fred Weasley x Reader
Y/n bets Fred that she can get him to admit his jealousy before the end of the week. It does not go how either of them planned. 
TW: none
Word Count: 2,900
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“You’re an idiot” George stated plainly.
“Hang on- what have I done already? It’s only 9 in the morning” Fred retorted.
“The bet”
“Godric, she works quickly. How does everyone know already?”
“Because you’ve gone absolutely mental thinking you can win!” Lee piped in as he sat down at the table, “Everyone’s talking about how badly you’re going to lose”
Fred’s mind drifted back to last night.
“What did he kill your grandma or something? Why are you looking at him like that?” Y/n teased.
“Like what?” Fred replied, with his eyes still locked on Draco.
“Hang on are you jealous?”
“No,” He argued, still eyeing the Slytherin boy, “How did he get ahold of your gloves in the first place?”
“I left them there after our one-night stand last week.”
“What?” Fred’s focus whipped to her.
“You are jealous!”
“I’m not! Just …concerned for your well-being. Did you actually?”
“Of course not you twat. I left them at quidditch practice and he picked them up for me,” She answered, watching as Fred went back to eyeing Draco, “Why won’t you admit you’re jealous?”
“Because I’m not”
“Right… Interesting”
“What is?” Fred finally relaxed as Draco went out of the room.
“That you are jealous, but you just won’t admit it,” Y/N replied as she shoved his shoulder playfully.
“I won't admit it because I’m not jealous,” Fred said pushing her shoulder right back, “Why do you care? I think you want me to be jealous,”
“Wanna bet?”
“On what?”
Fred was slightly anxious. Deep down he knew he was a little jealous. Protective even. But he knew if he admitted it, it would mean admitting his feelings for her, which he was NOT ready to do just yet.
“I bet that I can make you admit you’re jealous by the end of this week,” Y/n challenged.
“You’re on.”
“Good,” Y/n stuck out her hand for him to shake.
“Hang on,” Fred took a confident step closer, instantly making y/n hyper-aware of their proximity, “What do I get if I win?” Fred brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, clearly testing her.
“If you win,” Y/n whispered while taking another step impossibly closer, “I’ll do your potions homework for a week.”
She could feel his chest against hers now but she was not backing down now.
“But if I win,” she continued, “You have to ask me to the Yule Ball- In front of everyone.”
“Deal,” Fred scoffed and shook her hand.
“Drag it out as long as you can mate, I’ve started a betting pool” George held up a pouch full of sickles, ever so annoyingly.
“WHY is everyone so convinced I’ll lose?” Fred hissed.
“Because you’re head over heels for her! And because of that,” Lee pointed behind him. All the boys directed their attention to the front of the Great Hall.
“Bloody Hell” George laughed out.
There she was. Standing at the front of the great hall in all her glory was y/n. But instead of her usual sweater and jeans, she sported a tight black turtle neck with a leather skirt resting just below her mid-thigh cleverly directing everyone’s eyes down her toned legs covered by sheer black pantyhose wrapped up neatly by a pair of stunning black heels. She looked absolutely drop-dead gorgeous and much to Fred’s dismay everyone recognized it.
She was currently surrounded by a gaggle of third years, shamelessly trying to catch the older girl’s attention. But there was one specific person who made Fred’s blood boil. To Y/n’s right- stood Cormac, ever the overconfident flirt, making Y/n laugh. Fred couldn’t believe it. He almost, almost, stood up, but at the last second Y/N caught his eyes, so Fred sat back down and directed his attention back to his food.
“Oi! Fred!” Dean Thomas called, approaching Fred, “Are you and Y/N still seeing each other?”
“We were never seeing each other Dean,” Fred hissed through clenched teeth.
“Oh. So you wouldn’t mind if I asked her out?” Lee asked bluntly. George had the nerve to laugh at the 4th year’s audacity, earning a glare from his twin across the table.
“Go right ahead,” Fred approved.
“Wicked.” Dean hurried away towards y/n fixing his robes as he went.
“Have I mentioned you’re entirely, utterly, and completely stupid?” George reminded once more.
“Shut up.”
That afternoon Fred sat at the desk in y/n’s room patiently awaiting her arrival. She was supposed to meet him 10 minutes ago, but still no sign of her.
Five more minutes passed and Y/N finally rolled in. Amongst her hair sat a small red flower tucked behind her ear delicately.
“What is that?” Fred pointed to the improvised hairpiece.
“A flower. Dean gave it to me. Red for love or Gryffindor or some rubbish. I don’t know.”
“So now you’re flirting with Dean Thomas? He’s two years below us!”
“Not flirting Fred, simply accepting a gift. Why? Are you jealous?” She challenged crossing to lean on the desk near him.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Right,” She relented rolling her eyes, “Well then, ready to study?”
“If we must”
Some days came and went and pretty soon it was Wednesday.
How on Earth is it only Wednesday? Fred thought. He was miserable.
For the past three days, he watched boys trip over themselves just to get near Y/N. He didn’t think she’d carried her own books to class the entire week, not to mention the sweets on her desk had now grown to be a small mountain. It seemed everyone in Hogwarts was determined to make him forfeit. But Fred, just as stubborn as y/n, would not give in that easily.
Today was the Slytherin vs Hufflepuff game. Fred and George routinely made their way up to the stands to support their best friend and third favorite beater: Y/n.
“Bloody hell I’ve never seen the Slytherin stand so packed,” Fred commented as he pushed through the crowd.
“Not to put salt on your wound mate, but I think you know why they’re here” George replied making his own way to the front.
“Unfortunately I’m painfully aware.”
“You have to admit. She does look pretty bloody hot when she’s playing” George poked,
Receiving a sharp smack on his chest from his twin.
“Hey hey! I am not the enemy… Simply pointing out the obvious,” He added.
Smack
“Alright!!”
~~~
“That was mad!” Lee exclaimed.
“I’ve never seen Hufflepuff eat shit that badly” George added.
“Come on. Let’s go find her” Fred said. He may have been in a bad mood, but even he couldn’t deny that it was an amazing game for Slytherin. The boys journeyed down the stairs to wait for the team outside the showers. As they got closer Fred rolled his eyes at the sight before him.
“Sorry gents!” Fred loudly announced to the small village waiting outside the showers for Y/n, “Y/N has already left! Snuck out through the back. Looks like you’ll have to obnoxiously fight for her affections some other time,” he ended, clapping a few of them on their backs.
Fred’s call seemed to clear out most of the crowd including a very disappointed Dean Thomas.
“Right then, that’s better,” Fred sighed.
“You’re encouragable” George muttered.
“Are those my favorite twins I hear?” Y/N exclaimed as she exited the locker room. Her hair was damp and beginning to curl up from the shower and lack of a proper comb.
“That was bloody brilliant,” George congratulated as he hugged her tightly.
“That was a pretty gruesome game,” Fred said, abandoning his usual cocky persona for a more timid one.
“And here I thought you wouldn’t come,” Y/N cood as she crossed over to Fred.
“I’m not jealous.”
“Didn’t say you were”
George cut in, “Right, as entertaining as you two are, I’ve got a date with my pillow. Great game Y/n.” George clapped her on the back and made a quick exit.
“He’s right you know” Fred turned toward the girl.
“About what?”
“You were pretty ‘bloody brilliant’,” he mocked his twin’s tone.
“Thanks, It helped to have my good luck charm in the stands as usual,” she beamed at him.
“Yeah… Well, I’m off then,” Fred said beginning to leave.
“Fred!” She halted the boy, “Um- Well I just… Thanks for coming.”
“Yeah of course.”
~~~
The party was a rager. Gryffindor had just won the Friday match and it seemed like all of Hogwarts was celebrating. The common room was packed with people from all different houses dancing, chatting, and of course drinking.
There was only one rule to get in: you’ve got to wear red and gold.
Fred, however, made sure to deliberately leave that detail a mystery to Y/N. As usual, he had a plan. He figured that this being the last night of their little bet, she would be plotting a scheme of her own, so he would have to beat her before she beat him. His plan was simple: she would show up at the door, not wearing the required colors, and he would graciously offer him his jersey. With no other option, she would be forced to wear a shirt with a big fat “WEASLEY” on the back, easily warding off potential suitors. Now all he had to do was wait for her to show up.
And show up she did. His plan was right on track. She approached the portrait hole confidently; strutting up in an emerald green Slytherin sweater. Perfect.
“Ope, sorry love, gonna have to stop you there.” Fred said blocking her path, “Red or gold required to get in.”
“What?”
“Yup. No entry for green. Sorry darling,” Fred smiled at her oh so sweetly. Y/N tried to ignore the little flutter of her heart when he used that pet name for her.
“But you are in luck!” He continued, “I just so happen to have this!” Fred proudly pulled out and presented his jersey to her, thinking he had won.
“Mhm. Let me get this straight,” Y/n exaggerated, “You ‘just so happen’ to have forgotten to tell me the dress code, and you ‘just so happen’ to have a shirt for me, but it ‘just so happens’ that it has the word ‘WEASLEY’ plastered all over the back?” She saw right through him.
“Yup,” Fred popped the p of the word as he held out the shirt to her.
But Fred had made one fatal mistake, he had forgotten the very reason he fancied this particular woman oh so much: her boldness.
“Right,” She began to speak loudly, as to attract the attention of everyone in the room, “SO I CAN'T COME IN WITH THIS SHIRT, BUT IF I CHANGE TO RED OR GOLD I CAN ENTER?”
“Yes?” Fred hesitated. What was she up to?
“WELL FINE!” She exclaimed, and Fred watched in shock and might he say admiration as the next few actions unfolded in front of him.
Y/n reached down and proudly pulled off her shirt over her head, revealing a bright red bra underneath.
Fred gaped at her. He definitely had not seen this coming, but by god was that attractive. He didn’t know if it was her confidence or just the proximity to her shirtless chest, but Fred Weasley was truly at a loss for words.
“Let the woman in!” Someone shouted from the crowd, and Fred stepped aside to watch as she walked past smirking. How did his plan manage to go that badly?
“It’s alright mate you made a valiant effort,” George appeared patting his shoulder, “But if you do lose I’ve got five galleons on it. I suppose I could share some of the profit.”
“I need a drink,” Fred uttered.
“That’s the spirit.”
~~~
The party raged on, and it was getting dangerously close to midnight. Y/n knew she had to finish this and fast. Luckily, she had the advantage. Fred had been hitting the fire whisky pretty hard, and best of all Cormac had entered the ring once more.
“Hey,” Y/n said approaching Cormac, “You played pretty well, I couldn’t help but watch.”
Actually, she could. She hadn’t even noticed him. In fact, she was pretty sure she was transfixed with a certain Gryffindor beater for most of the game, but she put that aside for now. She was winning this bet.
“Hello beautiful,” He smiled. She internally cringed at his words but persisted.
“Can I sit?”
“Of course” Cormac shoved over to make room for her. Y/n glanced at the clock, getting slightly nervous. 11:30. 30 more minutes- time to be bold. She stole a glance in Fred’s direction, who unfortunately seemed distracted talking to Lee, and with a deep inhalation, sat directly on Cormac’s lap.
“Well hello,” he praised as he placed a hand on her thigh. She fought the urge to move it away and pushed onward once more.
“Hello,” she flirted, glancing back at Fred again. Still not watching. Fuck. Why won’t he look at her? Why won’t Cormac STOP looking at her? Abruptly Y/n became startlingly aware of her shirtlessness.
“You look quite fit tonight. Really a killer outfit,” he joked.
She laughed, LOUDLY, Too loudly to seem natural but it seemed to have caught George’s eye. She hoped he would deliver the news to Fred. The clock was ticking.
Carefully, she placed a hand on Cormac’s chest.
“So do you, but maybe that’s just the fire whiskey talking,” Y/n flirted.
Now it was Cormac’s turn to laugh. Smoothly, he moved his hand from her thigh to her waist, pulling her closer to him. Her chest felt so exposed up against his Jersey, but she had to keep pressing forward. The conversation was going slow, too slow. 11:45. Where was Fred?
“Tell me Y/n- was this bra for me? Or was this just a happy accident,” her brain was screaming at her to bail. To call the whole thing off. But she was so close, Fred would be here soon. She was sure of it.
“Well I-“
“Y/n.” Fred FINALLY cut in. “Can I have a word?”
~~~
Fred ushered her quickly into his room. 11:50.
“The hell was that?” Fred was seething, “Cormac? I knew you were stubborn but I didn’t think you were that cruel.”
“Why? Jealous?” She teased, not quite grasping just how angry he was.
“Why is this a game to you? Why am I a game to you?” Fred sat down facing away from her, raking his fingers through his copper hair.
Y/n was dumbstruck. What just happened?
“What?” She was thoroughly confused.
Fred continued from his seat, “This whole thing. Do you think I wanted to be jealous? Do you think that I like how unreasonably irritated I get when someone else wants to carry your books? Why did you have to go and embarrass me for it? I’m sorry I ever even cared for you like that.”
“Fred- like what? What are you saying?”
“You know well what I mean. It’s already painful enough knowing I’m just a friend.”
“Fred, I guess I’m confused I-”
“I’m in love with you alright? I was perfectly fine loving you in secret! Why did you have to go and mess it all up?” He confessed, his temper getting the better of him. “Just forget it. Clearly, my feelings aren’t that important to you” He stood quickly and headed for the door.
“Fred wait!” He barreled out the door and down to the common room attempting to weave through all the people. Y/n was hot on his tail. “Fred- wait- please- just slow down a minute!”
He continued to push through and out of the portrait.
“Fred!” She followed just behind him, but he didn’t stop. Barreling all the way down through passageways and tunnels until finally reaching the boat house. He stopped on the edge of the dock, and she followed.
“You twat!” She accused.
“Oh, I’m the twat? You’re ridiculous,” He scoffed, turning to face her to argue further, but before he could she cried out.
“Oh for fucks sake!” Roughly, she grabbed the collar of his robes and yanked him closer to her, planting his lips directly on hers before removing them again.
He stared at her shocked, and for the second time tonight, Fred was at a loss for words.
“Did you seriously think I did all of this to embarrass you? Fred, I’m in love with you! I just was tired of dropping hints all the time, so I was hoping this might push you to admit your feelings. I had no idea it would go this far.”
“You- you love me too?”
“Of course I do! Fred, you and I both saw this week, that if I wanted to date someone else I could. But I don’t, okay? Can you get that through your thick skull?”
He stared at her. She stared at him. Gingerly, he approached her raising a hand up to hold her cheek in his palm.
“Y/n?” He whispered.
“Fred?”
The boy slowly moved his hand to grab her chin and pulled her lips closer, but just before they touched he stopped. Smirking he uttered, “It’s 12:05. You owe me some potions homework.”
“You’re insufferable,” she muttered as she finally closed the gap between them.
The kiss was slow and deliberate. The new couple was savoring their first real taste of each other. He tastes just like caramel she noted as he lightly nipped at her bottom lip. Y/n reached up to his neck to pull him closer, but Fred broke the kiss.
“Would you like to take this upstairs?” He asked, “Although the dress code for my room is no red so you’ll probably have to take that off.”
“Prick,” She said with a smile as she brought her lips back down to his. 
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ssolnyshka · 4 months ago
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Im a loser and can't help that my exact romantic taste is that of tall ginger dorks 😞😮‍💨 so take this scrappy self-indulgent insert piece, lol 🧡
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delusionalwritingsofagay · 2 months ago
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[Authors note : I do not support jk bitch Rowling and her ugly ass attitude and beliefs. She can go kick rocks. Ugly Terf ass. On this blog we support trans woman and other identity]
Draco malfoy
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One shots
Fics
Charlie weasely
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{Not my art found on Pinterest}
One shots
Fics
Fred and George weasely
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One shots
Fics
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cleake · 1 year ago
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Harry Potter characters: Top or bottom?
Personal opinion!!1!1 (this is just for the funnies)
Harry:
— Switch
Harry can be both, he can be both dominant and reserved. Harry has a lot of repressed emotions so he does have to let them out once in a while and it can get rough. He does make sure that everything is okay and that he doesn’t hurt you but he can get too into it and sometimes he doesn’t catch himself on being too much. But he can also be very gentle and delicate when he isn’t overwhelmed by emotion. He wants to appreciate the moment and let himself feel all the love and affection between you two, it makes him feel so happy and special. He likes being treated and treat you, he doesn’t really have a preference it depends on his mood. He likes to take control of things but he doesn’t need to to feel good, he likes it when you are more dominant too.
Ron:
— Bottom/Switch
Ronald Weasley, the boy who doesn’t know what he wants. He thinks that he can be the dominant one, he pictures himself as one and he has the knowledge, but when it comes to acting on those things he is a bit reserved. When you take control, he feels a bit too giddy inside to stop you and is very enthusiastic to see what you’ll do. He’s happy that you’re willing to control him more, he wants to see it and it excites him, afterwards he can be a bit grumpy that he didn’t take the opportunity but that won’t last for long. He’s a sucker for love and affection, he can’t resist it when it happens. He can be more dominant, he does take control when he wants to but he’s much more happy to see you treat him. Not that he’ll leave everything to you, no no, he’ll absolutely do anything you’d ask.
Hermione:
— Switch
Hermione likes to have control, she likes the entitlement and power it gives her but she isn’t very greedy for it. She doesn’t have to be the dominant one but if you ask nicely she’ll do it with pleasure. Although she likes it more when you two work together equally, she feels more loved that way and it’s more pleasant for her. She does like it when you get more controlling, she observes you intently and will call you out when you do something that she doesn’t or does appreciate. She sometimes will literally correct you, after you do something she’ll shake her head and say “No no, that wasn’t right, let me show you” and then proceed to do the same thing to you with more ability to prove your mistake. She can be a bit competitive but not too often.
Fred:
— Switch/Top
Now, Fred is cocky and thinks he’s the stuff so he’ll most likely take control. That doesn’t mean he’s necessarily good at it, it can get a bit messy. He is skilled and it can be nice but he takes a lot of pride in the fact that he was the dominant one. He’ll tease you about it and provoke you, a bit cruelly but he’ll stop when your feelings get hurt. But when you take control, he freezes. He doesn’t know what to do, he’s clueless and looks like a deer in headlights. He does get used to you being the demanding one and starts to like it, a lot. He would be more willing to let you take control, not even trying to fight it after some time, he absolutely wants it. He will still tease you, even with you on top but his reactions are good enough to tell that he’s enjoying it.
George:
— Bottom/Switch
George is more mature about this than Fred, he takes it more seriously but that doesn’t mean he won’t tease you. He still considers this fun but it can be also more personal to him. Sometimes he’s focused on controlling you, sometimes he just melts when you treat him. He doesn’t mind being on the bottom, it doesn’t hurt his ego, he enjoys it and is in awe of your treatment. If you want him to be more dominant he’ll gladly do it, without a question, but if you’d like to take control he doesn’t talk back. He’s just happy that he’s sharing this experience with you and that means to him the most, he wants you to enjoy it so whatever you want is on your command.
Ginny:
— Top
She’s not messing around, she will pin you against the wall and control you like her puppet. She likes having control, she likes proving her strength, and it makes her feel good. She won’t be rough on you if you don’t want it but she’s not giving up that top spot, she is in charge. She does give you opportunities to be more dominant but not enough to overpower her. She can get more gentle if you want it, she doesn’t want to hurt you but she’s having more fun if she’s on top.
Neville:
— Switch/Bottom
Neville is nervous at the beginning, he doesn’t have a lot of experience, but when he gets it he’s more and more willing to engage in being more dominant. He’s not controlling, he always makes sure that you’re comfortable and that nothing is against you but when he makes sure that it’s okay, he goes for it. He can appreciate both being on top and the bottom, he likes it when you treat him, it makes him feel loved and cared for but he also wants you to feel the same way. He can get excited and get rougher if you like it, he may be a bit embarrassed afterward but he does enjoy being more dominant when he feels like it and you want it.
Draco:
— Bottom
Do you think this boy will take you? Do you think that this wet cat is going to control you? Nuh-uh, he’s going to crumble when you do anything to him, he’s touch starved. The smallest touches make him fold and whimper for you like a fool. He doesn’t like it of course, he doesn’t like that he folds and shows his vulnerability but it’s too good when you take control of him and he can’t stop you. He can try to take control but touch him anywhere while he’s doing it, tease him, or provoke him a little and he can’t take it.
Tom:
— Switch
You think that Tom Riddle is intimidated or threatened by being on the bottom? Of course not. His power doesn’t come from his position. His ego is big and he is determined to show you that he still has control even with you on top of him. He won’t even do much, he’ll let you have the power, giving into him like a fool you are, and he knows that he still is in charge. He won’t even provoke or tease you much, he’ll just watch you and give you small touches that will make you melt. And he does enjoy someone treating him, it makes him feel even more powerful. Whatever you do, he’s not impressed.
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stanathanxoox · 9 months ago
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Piggy Back
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During family events or gatherings with friends the other can be found with the baby, enjoying themselves immensely. - George Weasley x reader
You entered the Burrow with your fiance who immediately raced off to find his niece Victorie, and Harry’s God son Teddy. They were in the living room and you found Fleur, Bill and Harry sitting on the chairs watching the two youngsters interact with the tall red head you adored so much. You smile as you watch him happily interacting with the two little ones, Teddy calling out to George 
“Georgie piggy back” and he happily obliges, carrying the two and a half year old on his back whilst telling a story which has the two little ones giggling away.
“He’ll be a great dad one day” Fleur says, Bill agreeing with his wife and you smile
“It may be sooner than he thinks” you whisper to the three, placing your hand on your tummy
“No way” Harry whisper shrieks, making sure not to catch the attention of the others in the room
“Way” you say.
“Does my brother know yet?” Bill asks
“He found out about an hour before we left home” you reply and they smile.
“We’re going to tell everyone at dinner tonight” you say, and the three nod their heads, as you all turn your attention back to your fiance and the two small children.
Tag List: @tiva-jenry-caskett-rizzles-densi​, @jimmybpride​, @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy​, @nikkiwierden​, @samchelforever007​, @kirkspockbones​, @xoncisxncislaxncisnolaox​, @lasalle-pride-sebastian-love​, @haliannej​, @brooklyn-99-amyxjake​​, @mizzezm​, @genius2050​, @twilight-twihard​, @cullencoven2019​, @wxlfgirlx​, @luciferxchloeislove​, @drethanramsey-ismybabe​, @sawyer-oakley-is-mighty-fine​, @loverofoneshots​, @aelin-thefirebreathingbitchqueen​​
Tag List for Harry Potter/Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them: @harryxhermioneisharmony, @myslytherinboiis, @xneville4lunax
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distantdarlings · 1 year ago
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The Space In Which We Breathe // g. weasley
RATING: PG-13 / 1.3k words
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George Weasley x Reader Insert (No gender-specific details)
✴ Summary - After a long study session, you decide to act on some long-lived feelings you've had for George Weasley since Year One. *George's POV* (Implied Smut)
✴ Warnings - Language, tension, sensuality, heavy kissing, and light petting. Smutty but no actual smut.
✴ Music (listened to while writing):
Want You So Bad - The Vaccines
"George," you spoke his name, your voice barely above a whisper. For a moment, it seemed that he maybe hadn't heard you. His eyes flickered over to you and when he saw yours staring directly at him, he took pause. His lips parted as if to say something
With a short breath, you ran a trembling hand through your hair. You let the Astronomy textbook slide off of your lap and get to your feet.
George watched as you slowly walked over to him, wringing your fingers nervously the whole way. The knuckles on your hands turned white like vanilla ice cream, like how George thought you might taste. Though he’d never tell you that.
You stopped in front of him, staring down, chewing your lips to pieces. George wanted to know what you were so nervous about but, for some reason, seeing your shaking lips made his trousers tighten a bit. He shook that thought away, breaking eye contact with you.
You ignored the slight deflation in your heart and placed your hands on either side of George’s head, pressing down on the back of the couch. Your knees went on either side of George’s thighs as his face came dangerously close to your own.
You hovered over him, a strand of your hair hanging daintily between the two of you, slightly tickling George’s forehead.
The boy exhaled shakily, his lower lip trembling with every hesitant breath. He smelled like mint and smoke, the scent was intoxicating. It filled your head, dragging your eyes closed. You could see the tops of the trees outside and the silhouette of the castle against a gentle white sky, despite the blackness on the other side of the windows.
The strong fire in the corner flickered against George’s glass skin, making him seem all the more desirable. The ginger boy fought to keep his hands down by his sides, despite wanting so badly to touch your hips, your chest, your neck...
You conjured up a bit of courage and found his eyes once more. "Well, do something," you whispered breathlessly, the tip of your nose coming down to brush the older’s.
George could feel the burn in his throat as he swallowed thickly. His heart sped up in his chest and an odd pain claimed his shoulders, making him all of a sudden very restless. Six years of pining after you and this how your awkward, tension-filled relationship came to a head? You two were just going to…do it? George didn’t know if he’d make it. Shouldn’t he take you on a date first?
You took in a breath, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and gently entangling your fingers in his hair with the other. Your hips rose up a bit so you could press your chest closer to the boy's. George’s neck was craned to see the beauty that was clinging so tightly and innocently to him.
"Please . . . ," you gasped, your grip tightening in George’s hair. Even if this wasn't how he'd wanted to touch your soft body for the first time and how he'd wanted to confess, he'd take it. He pressed his lips harshly against yours, pulling his hands up between the two of you to softly grip your face.
You let a light moan slip out, like a breath of relief as your hold tightened on George. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing the tips of his fingers to the small of your back. He reveled in the feeling of your soft body pressed to his. He never wanted to leave this sofa, in this common room, in this castle, at this moment. He wanted to stay here forever, feeling his lips and yours relieve years of tension.
George’s lungs melted within his chest into a mushy mess of blood and flesh. He had imagined feeling you against him for so long; had imagined his tongue painting a landscape within your mouth. George loved your slightly chapped lips scratching against his own, feeling the rough skin crack against his teeth and bleed onto his tongue.
You inhaled deeply, struggling to obtain a breath with his mouth pressed so violently to yours. Your fingers tightened even more in George’s hair, attempting to pull yourself even closer to the boy you’d desired for so long.
George separated your lips and placed his to your neck. His tongue arched longingly over your throat and collarbones. You exhaled shakily at the feeling. George could listen to that sound for the rest of eternity. A breeze of confidence injected itself into his mind at your reactions.
"So fucking gorgeous," George breathed against your skin. He’d planned telling you how beautiful you were for longer than he could remember and the ease with which he got it out just now was shocking. Your breath hitched as he pulled your hips even closer.
George struggled to contain himself as he gripped your beautiful body and pressed his lips more and more against you. He had wanted for so long to touch you, to feel your flesh beneath his fingers, to taste you on his tongue, to hear you breathe out his name…
George propped his hands beneath your thighs, feeling your grip tighten around his shoulders. He gently brought you to the rug in front of the fire. A flash of sense popped across his mind. You two were in the common room and anyone could walk in at any point, but it didn’t seem like you cared, and with the amount of desperation racing through his veins right now…he didn’t really care, either. He brought his lips back up to yours, tracing his tongue along your teeth.
You tugged at his shirt, attempting to pull it up over his head. He obliged and felt the fabric slide against the length of his back. In the absence of the material, he felt the soft caress of the flames in the corner and your nails digging sharply into his flesh.
George quickly got to work on the buttons down the middle of your uniform shirt. His fingers fumbled over the first four, opening the material just enough for easier access. He dragged his lips and tongue down your chest, tasting his salty-sweet flesh. Your scent overwhelmed his senses making the heat in his stomach increase tenfold.
He wondered what he could have ever done to deserve you. The gorgeous specimen with the soft, luscious hair and the sharp, crystalline features. The same beautiful hair that you tied up in a small knot at the back of your head when studying, and the same features that peaked out over shirt collars and waistbands, teasing George with every flash.
His fingers touched everywhere, savoring the feeling of his weight over your body. He glanced up at you and admired the view. Your eyebrows were screwed together in frustration and your lips were parted in a silent moan. His hand reached up to touch your sweaty hair and felt the way it stuck to your forehead as you keened for more of the boy’s touch.
"Merlin, George, do something," you groaned, the words barely slipping from your lips. George covered your gorgeous mouth with his own, wanting you to shut up. He loved to hear the sounds that came from you, but he didn't want to rush this. He had been imagining this moment for fucking years. He’d dreamed of being able to touch you in this way—he was fed up with the awkward, platonic hand touches and congratulatory hugs, he wanted to kiss your neck as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.
"Patience," he whispered against your lips.
"Merlin, are you a fucking fortune cookie?" You spat, bucking your hips up into George’s. The boy groaned lowly at the contact, chuckling at your desperation and your silly muggle references. Not even Merlin--or fortune cookies--were going to screw this up for him. George smirked and pressed your hips back down.
He leaned down and slowly slid your skirt down your hips, letting the fabric pool around your ankles. You kicked them off as George climbed back onto you, ever so slightly touching his hips to yours. You let a moan slip from your mouth followed by a string of muffled curse words.
"Fuck you, George Weasley.”
“With pleasure, darling.”
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sailtomarina · 7 months ago
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Colourful, but Controlled, Chaos
Fred Weasley/George Weasley/Reader | fluff, humor
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There wasn’t a day that went by where the Weasley twins weren’t up to something. Whether it was the Slytherins walking into the Great Hall for breakfast with mutinous expressions and lime green hair, the piercing outcry that followed Madam Pince’s discovery of stacks of Playwiz scattered across the library, or how miniature swamps appeared seemingly at random around the castle, there was never a moment of peace.
You would have laughed if you weren’t furious.
Because these pranks didn’t just occur to the deserved or only during downtime, but at all times of day to anyone and everyone. There were no exceptions to the terrors they wrought, not even towards each other.
That fairness would be admirable, you supposed, if you hadn’t witnessed painfully shy firsties sobbing from embarrassment, or been a victim yourself to a well-hidden shower charm that turned your hair a brilliant shade of lilac. You’d thought of all people you might be the special one, being as you were one of their closest friends.
Finals loomed and you knew the entire castle was on the verge of implosion. It would only take a slight nudge from Fred and George to send teachers and students alike into a war that would leave nothing but rubble in its wake.
“This has to stop. Now.” You stood before them, hands propped on your hips and wearing your fiercest scowl. 
It was the look that never failed to send Malfoy and his followers scurrying to their dungeon. The look could even silence students like Marcus Flint and Cormac McLaggen, transforming their swaggers into straight backs and shoulders.
Fred and George, however, were not so easily cowed.
The matching pairs of eyes bluer than the clearest summer sky took you in for a grand total of five seconds before they burst into laughter, louder than before.
“I mean it!” you insisted. “We only have these last weeks until break and we, I, need peace to study.”
The seriousness of your plea fell on deaf ears as they paused to peer up at you, only to dissolve into giggles once more. Even more galling to you was the fact that no matter how much mischief the two of them created, they still somehow scored high marks in nearly every one of their classes.
“Gred, I think Y/N is on the verge of hexing us.”
“I believe you’re right, Forge. It’s a good thing we’re so fast on our feet, isn’t it?”
Before you could whip out your wand and do just that, they hauled you forward into their laps. You were as helpless as a mermaid on land as they manoeuvred you across them, fingers delving towards all your ticklish spots until you screamed for mercy.
“Please, no more! Fred! George!”
Their hands let up, and you panted at the reprieve. The grins they wore were wider than ever on their stupidly handsome faces. You wanted to smack them and snog them all at the same time. The two emotions battled for control, with you the helpless party. If you weren’t so head-over-heels for them, you would have killed them by now.
When you finally had your breath under control, you fixed them with another stern glare. “I know you might find this difficult to comprehend, but there is a limit to my patience.”
“Ooooooh, that sounds terrifying.” Fred’s distinctly non-terrified smirk preceded his twin’s.
“What’s in it for us if we behave, love?” George asked. There was a dangerous glint to his eye to pair with the twist of his lips.
You could feel the heat of their hands on you even through your uniform. Your throat felt dry, and you licked your lips on reflex. There were words you wanted to say, had wanted to say for weeks now. You weren’t sure if saying them now, here, was a mistake. Maybe this was the push you’d needed.
“If…” you cleared your throat, then continued, “If you hold off on any further pranks until after tests are over, I will go on a date with you. Both of you.”
You’d heard the rumours. Knew them to be true. Fred and George Weasley didn’t do anything by halves. When they loved, they loved together. That meant that anyone who chose to be with one also chose to be with both. There was no taking one without the other.
The hands that rested across your legs and waist tightened, drawing you closer into them. There were no smiles now on their faces; only the full force of their attention on you and nothing else.
“Do you mean it, Y/N?”
“You’ll be ours?”
You bit your lip at the heat in their questions. You needed to clarify things, even if all you wanted to do was say ‘yes’. Keep them focused. “I’ll go on one date. What happens after that depends on how that date goes.”
They remained sombre as they scooched apart to help you sit up. The handshake you shared sealed the deal for peace.
One month and a single date later, they had you exactly where they wanted you–in their arms and completely theirs. You even chipped in those last few days of the school year, your guilt just as apparent as theirs as Hogwarts erupted into colourful, but controlled, chaos.
6.11.24 prompt, “I know you might find this difficult to comprehend…”
883 wc
Cross-posted on Facebook and Tumblr.
I’ve fallen off the treadmill lately with short prompts like this one due to all the fest writing I’ve been doing these past couple of months. I really want to get back into them because they make for great exercises to get the words flowing. Hopefully, you can look forward to more of these soon!
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fluffthecloud · 1 year ago
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Their Soulmates
Weasley Twins x Reader
pt. 1 pt. 2
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Summary: TBH I forgot the summary
Genre: Fluff
Request:❌
Warning: N/A
Notes: Sorry for the long wait, but I'm back now, so enjoy, again this is male reader, not female reader people label your damn stories not everyone assumes it's a female reader, there aren't just females who enjoy x reader fics, also as a little self indulgence reader loves herbology class.
Tag list: @jasperthechaosgremlin @flynnr2d2 @glitchyaiko @smol-book-nerd @iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface @peachesgaeass
"Oh yeah we share Herbology and Charms class!" Fred said with a big smile looking over at Y/N with a big smile.
"Yeah I loved learning about herbs when I was younger, and I know I'm just going to love that class!" Y/N commented super excited about the class.
"I can tell, you sound excited about it." Percy let's out a soft laugh at Y/N's excitement, "I'll let you find the rest of your classes now, bye." Percy waves bye and walks away from the three to let them find their classes together.
For the rest of the day the three have been walking around, getting lost at some points. After they find all their classes it was late and around dinner time so they all made their way to the great hall where they finally parted ways to sit at their respected tables. The twins were talking to each other about Y/N and how cute he had been all day, especially when they kept getting lost.
"He is so precious, I hope we can keep him around." Fred whispers to his twin, while keeping his eyes on the laughing Y/N.
George hums in agreement, taking his eyes off of Y/n to look at his brother, "you think mom and dad will like him?" He asked a bit worried, though why wouldn't they like Y/N Percy already did.
"I hope, you know how picky they can be about our friends." Even though all their friends had been quite like them, prankster, and chaotic neutral.
"They have a good reason to...." Fred said remembering the last time they brought a friend over, they had to scrub out red paint out of the carpet for hours on end after the friend left(was kicked out).
At the Hufflepuff table Y/N was laughing and getting to know his new housemates, his E/C eyes were watering with how much he's been laughing with the others. "I'm sorry he did what?" He asked trying to not laugh so much.
"He jumped out the car window, on to his teacher, and broke both of their noses." The house mate said laughing, as this happened years ago, "he had detention the next day when he went back to school." At this point Y/N was dying of laughter struggling to eat his food thanks to how much he was laughing.
The twins smile at Y/N, before going to socialize with their house mates, hoping to make some more friends.
Notes: Sorry if I put Nico instead of Y/N please let me know if I did, I always automatically read Y/N as Nico, also E/C is eye colour!
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magical-reid · 22 days ago
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In the Silence of the Night
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Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Abusive Relationship (not with George), Signs of depression
Word Count 1.7K
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Y/N didn’t know who else to call. At three in the morning, the darkness pressed in on her like a weight, amplifying the ache in her chest. The room felt smaller than usual, suffocating in its stillness. Her thoughts were loud, swirling around her mind like a storm, and yet she couldn’t find the words to express it. The loneliness was suffocating, and the sharp ache in her heart was something she couldn’t outrun.
Her friends always said they cared, but who could she wake up at this hour without feeling like a burden? Ginny? Hermione? No, they had exams tomorrow. Harry would never be able to keep the concern out of his voice, and she didn't want to add to his worries. No, she needed someone who understood the silent weight she carried. Someone who wouldn’t ask too many questions but would simply be there.
She sat on the edge of her bed, scrolling through her phone contacts. Her finger glided over names, but a quiet no slipped from her lips each time she passed one. There was only one name left. Her thumb hovered over it, and her heart clenched.
George Weasley.
She had never been particularly close to George. They weren’t best friends or even close confidants. But Y/N had always found a strange comfort in him. They had worked together at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes for over a year, and in that time, she had come to appreciate George’s subtle, almost intuitive, kindness. While most people saw him as the cheeky twin, always cracking jokes and making others laugh, there was a side to George that Y/N had noticed—a depth to him, an understanding of things that others didn’t catch.
It wasn’t just his jokes that made him stand out to her, but he would always pause when he noticed someone struggling. He’d noticed it first when she’d accidentally cut herself at work while setting up a display—he’d caught the sight of the blood before she had, and rather than making her feel foolish, he’d just handed her a tissue with a quiet, knowing smile. It wasn’t just the physical injuries, though; it was the emotional ones, too.
There had been several moments at work when Y/N had been running on empty, her mind too clouded with stress and pain to focus, and George had quietly noticed. He never asked about her troubles, but his eyes always lingered a moment too long when he saw her hiding a tremble or faking a smile.
But it wasn’t until one particularly rough day a few months ago, after a particularly harsh encounter with her manipulative (now) ex-boyfriend, that Y/N found herself turning to George.
She hadn’t planned to, but she found herself at the Weasley shop late that night, standing just outside, too overwhelmed to go anywhere else. George had been working late, trying to fix a malfunctioning prank product, and when he saw her standing in the shadows near the door, he didn’t ask why she was there. He just stepped outside, his face etched with concern.
“Y/N?” His voice was gentle, full of something deeper than the usual teasing tone. “What’s going on? You all right?”
She couldn’t answer, not at first. She had just collapsed into his arms, the dam she had carefully built around her emotions breaking apart. And George had just held her, wordlessly, until she could regain her composure. That night, she found herself opening up to him more than she had anyone else in years. She didn’t tell him everything, of course—not about the emotional manipulation, the control that still lurked behind every interaction with her ex. But she told him about how alone she had been feeling, how helpless she felt at times.
“Thank you,” she whispered that night, as George had walked her back to her flat. “I didn’t mean to… I don’t know why I came to you.”
“You don’t have to explain,” George had said, offering her one of his signature grins, though there was a softness to it. “You’re always welcome here.”
And from then on, Y/N found herself calling him when the world felt too heavy. Their conversations were often simple—she never spoke of the depths of her pain, but they would talk for hours about silly things, about work, about the pranks George and Fred had concocted. She knew George was someone she could count on, even if he didn’t fully understand everything she was going through. His kindness was enough.
But tonight felt different. This time, she couldn’t keep it inside. The weight of the world was pressing on her chest, suffocating her, and she knew she needed someone to break through the silence. She couldn’t turn to anyone else.
Taking a shaky breath, she pressed George’s name on her phone.
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.
Her heart was thudding in her chest now, panicking as the seconds ticked by. She had been so sure that calling George was the right thing to do. He had always been there for her, after all. But now, doubt crept in. What if he was annoyed with her? What if he didn’t want to be woken up at three in the morning for something that wasn’t a real emergency?
She was about to hang up, her finger hovering over the end call button, when the voice on the other end broke through the tension.
“Hello?” George’s voice was thick with sleep, but there was an immediate shift when he recognized her voice.
“George?” she whispered, trying to steady her breathing, but it came out shaky, fragile.
“Y/N? You all right?” he asked, his voice now more alert. The sleepiness was gone, replaced by an urgency that made her heart swell.
“I… I need help.” The words felt foreign like they shouldn’t have come out, like she wasn’t supposed to need help. But there it was her vulnerability out in the open. And George didn’t hesitate.
“I’m coming over,” he said firmly, his tone resolute. “Wait for me.”
She didn’t need to say anything more. She didn’t even have to explain herself. George understood. Always.
Within minutes, George was at her door, his figure framed by the light from the hallway. Y/N opened it to find him standing there in a worn-out hoodie, looking every bit the exhausted, kind-hearted man she had come to rely on. His face was soft with concern, though he didn’t say anything at first. He simply moved past her, letting himself into the small flat she had kept mostly to herself.
She didn’t say anything, just stepped back to let him in. George didn’t ask any questions, didn’t prod for details, but his gaze never left her as he moved around her living room. He wrapped a soft, knitted blanket around her shoulders and handed her a mug of tea before she could even sit down. There was a warmth to his actions, as though he had done this before, and yet, she couldn’t recall ever needing him so much.
He settled beside her on the couch, not crowding her, but close enough to offer the comfort she so desperately needed. Y/N curled up, clutching the mug in her hands, trying to focus on the warmth radiating from the tea instead of the storm in her chest.
“You know,” George said, breaking the silence after a few moments, “you don’t have to carry all this on your own.” His voice was gentle, but firm. “Whatever it is, you’re not alone anymore.”
His words cut through her thoughts, and Y/N turned to him, her eyes stinging. She hadn’t realized how much she had been holding in, how tightly she had clutched the burden of everything that had happened. She couldn’t keep doing it. She couldn’t keep pretending.
“I don’t know how to fix it,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Everything feels… broken. I feel so… lost.”
George didn’t answer immediately. He simply leaned closer, his arm wrapping around her shoulders in an embrace that felt so natural, so safe, that she didn’t pull away. His presence felt like a balm to her wounds, even if it didn’t fix everything.
Y/N pressed her head against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent—the faint trace of his cologne and something warm, comforting, like home. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. She just needed to be held, to have someone who cared enough to sit through the silence and not try to force her to say things she wasn’t ready to speak aloud.
A long while passed like that, Y/N leaning against George, her breath evening out as she allowed herself to rest in the quiet. And in that silence, she noticed something—something that she hadn’t been able to put into words. Despite the pain, despite the chaos, she felt… safe. Not because her problems had gone away, but because George had made it clear that she didn’t have to face them alone.
She shifted slightly, and George’s hand tightened around her as if reassuring her without words. But then, as she shifted again, George noticed it. The faint outline of a bruise on her cheek. His heart sank, and anger bubbled just beneath the surface. How could anyone do this to her? He fought to control his emotions, to not let the anger slip into his voice. He couldn’t push her. Not now.
But as her head rested in the crook of his neck, and her breath evened out, George made a silent promise to himself. He would protect her. He would be the shoulder she leaned on when the world felt too heavy. And when she was ready, he would help her find the strength to break free of whatever was holding her back.
For now, though, he would stay by her side, her silent protector in the dark, until she was ready to speak, ready to share the things she hadn’t yet found the courage to say. But George didn’t mind. He would be here. Always.
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