#george weasley x reader angst

[im-trying-my-best-yall]

Currently listening to Die With a Smile and making a mental edit of me and George during the battle of Hogwarts and i cant explain it but its soul crushing yall

[weasleys-wizard-writes]

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

Waiting on a Magpie

George Weasley x Reader

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

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

Genre: Fluff, Minor Angst

Content Warnings: 

Slight angst

Mentions of death

Mentions of depression

Mentions of grief

Word Count: 6,629

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“George?”

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

“Yes, Love?”

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

“Are you… Doing okay?”

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

“Better than I thought I would be.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You may rinse, Mr. Weasley.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That sounds great, Love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n! George!”

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

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

“The house has been rather quiet lately,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Again?!”

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

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

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

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

George rolled his eyes,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

George said sadly, his eyes locked with your own,

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

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

“George?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n L/n, will you marry m-”

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

“Hey buddy,”

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n L/n,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Mate,”

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

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

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

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

“What’s going on over here?”

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

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

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

“Isn’t your patronus a magpie, Dear?”

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

“It is, Mum.”

He answered softly,

“Was Freddie’s too.”

masterlist

Ko-fi

[noelan1]

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

[fredgeorgegredfeorge]

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

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

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s he done?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mastermindmiko]

The Ear that wasn't

pairing: George Weasley + reader

word count: 1,312

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

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

“Well.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[rose24207]

Roseee’s Masterlist

Roseee‘s Masterlist pt.2

Genre:

Mafia - 🖤

Angst - 💔

Fluff - 💗

Suggestive - ❤️‍🔥

Dark - 🩶

Humor - 💛

Squid game

The Salesman:

• How my dad does it 💔💗

-> Ji-Woo imitates her father’s Ddakji game at school, offering chocolate for wins and punches for losses, believing it’s what he would do, forcing her parents to reevaluate the lessons she’s learning from him.

• Just a Salesman 💔🩶

-> Your perfect world shatters when a furious stranger bursts into your home, accusing your loving, devoted husband of being a monster responsible for countless deaths.

-> pt.2

Player 333 / Myung-gi:

• The Triangle’s Mercy 💔🩶

-> You defy the rules of life and death, sparing Player 333 on the field and pulling your gun on another player in the dormitory, leaving him questioning why a guard would protect him.

Spiderverse

Miles Morales!42:

• I got this 💗

-> Miles never lets anyone touch his hair except his mom, but when she’s not around, he just might make an exception.

• Web of feelings 💗💛{💔}

-> When Spider-Girl is dosed with a love potion and falls for her enemy, the Prowler, he must fight to undo the chaos while questioning if this fake love could ever become real.

• Ma Meilleure Ennemie 💔💗

-> Two enemies, bound by hatred and an undeniable connection, navigate a love-hate relationship where each becomes the other's greatest blessing—and worst curse.

Harry Potter

Fred Weasley:

• that’s rich 💔{💗}

-> After a painful breakup, Fred finds you in the depths of your heartache and confesses his regret, leading to an emotional confrontation that leaves you both questioning whether love and healing are still possible between you.

• new year, new chapter 💗

-> Fred’s New Year transforms into a celebration of love, family, and new beginnings as he learns he’s about to become a father.

• spinning into love 💗

-> During a game of Spin the Bottle, Fred’s jealousy over a harmless kiss pushes him to confess his long-hidden feelings for his best friend, leading to a heartfelt and love-filled moment.

• a second chance at forever 💔💗

-> After surviving the explosion that everyone believed had killed him during the Battle of Hogwarts, Fred reunites with you, who, overwhelmed with relief and love, proposes to him on the spot.

• Get a room💗

-> A disciplined Slytherin is tasked with tutoring the Weasley twins, but between Fred’s chaotic charm, George’s relentless teasing, and their combined knack for trouble, resisting their antics—and Fred’s growing affection—proves impossible.

• I‘m okay 💔💗

-> During the chaotic Battle of the Seven Potters, Fred is consumed with worry when his girlfriend is the last to arrive at the Burrow, battered but alive, prompting him to stay by her side all night, vowing never to let her face such danger alone again.

• Potions and Obsessions 🩶

-> in which Fred‘s crush gets caught in the middle of a love potion and instead of giving her the antidote, Fred is keeping her all to himself.

George Weasley:

• What they’re like 💔💗

-> George confronts his friends after overhearing hurtful comments about his Slytherin girlfriend, defending her fiercely and making it clear that their behavior won’t be tolerated.

• Lucky git💔

-> George hides his heartbreak as he gives Y/N advice on pursuing Fred, knowing he’ll never be the one she chooses.

• Forever and always 💔💗

-> On their wedding day, George comforts his bride after finding her placing flowers on her parents' grave, reminding her that their love and future together will always honor the ones she’s lost.

• Love beyond house colors💔💗

-> After a secret relationship strained by house rivalry, George proves his love for his Slytherin girlfriend by standing by her side after a Quidditch injury and publicly declaring their relationship.

• Home for Christmas 💗

-> George invites his nervous girlfriend to the Burrow for Christmas, reassuring her with his warmth and humor, and she quickly realizes she’s already part of the Weasley family’s chaotic love.

• Long day, warm night 💗

-> After a grueling day as an Auror, you come home to George, who lifts your spirits with a cozy dinner, heartfelt affection, and the perfect night of love and laughter.

• a dance too late 💗

-> George hesitates too long to ask his crush to the Yule Ball, only to discover she's going with Harry as friends, but amidst the festivities, he finds the courage to confess his feelings, leading to a magical evening spent together.

Formula 1

Lando Norris:

- The Norris Family - Mafia - 🖤

• When mom looses her cool 💔💗

-> You finally snap after you catch your kids lying about a party and afterwards teach them a lesson about responsibility.

• Party pact 💗{💔}

-> Amelia and Jacob, the spirited teenage children of a strict but loving Lando, attend a party where their bond is tested as Jacob protects his bold sister while ensuring they stay out of trouble and honor their father's trust.

• Unseen tears 💔{💗}

-> A mother struggles with emotional isolation and her distant family until her husband finally steps in to confront their children and begin mending their fractured bonds.

• Amelies Innocence 💔 {💗}

-> Lando’s kind and patient wife loses it when she finds her six-year-old daughter with a gun in her hand.

• Family Business 💗

-> An evening where Lando and his wife recognise themselves in their children.

• Shadows and Sunlight💗

-> In the dangerous world of Lando Norris, a ruthless mafia boss, his kind-hearted wife and their contrasting children create a family full of warmth, love, and the delicate balance between light and dark.

• The balance of Us💗{💔}

-> As Lando navigates his dangerous world, his fiercely curious daughter and gentle son test the delicate balance of their family, while his kindhearted wife remains his unwavering anchor in a life of chaos.

• A lesson in Strength and Kindness💗

-> When Jacob stands up for a bullied classmate and gets in trouble, Lando and Y/N work together to ensure their son learns the value of both strength and kindness, teaching him that standing up for others can be just as important as following the rules.

• Switching Sides 💗

-> In a day filled with business and adventure, Lando and Y/N teach their children the balance of strength and kindness, reminding them that family is their true source of power and purpose.

- Imagines -

• You don’t deserve her 💔💗

-> Lando steps in to defend a waitress being cruelly humiliated and insulted by her boss, leading to her being fired, while Lando ensures she knows she deserves better.

• More than enough 💔💗

-> Lando, living a modest life, discovers that his girlfriend is a secret billionaire CEO and battles his feelings until she reassures him that he is her home and true happiness.

-> P2

• Right here 💗

-> Lando feels overlooked as you get carried away with friends at the club, but after expressing that he misses you, the two of you reconnect and focus on each other for the rest of the night.

• Tested 🖤💗💔

-> Lando, raised to see vulnerability as weakness, pushes through the flu to maintain his mafia image, but ultimately allows you to care for him when his facade cracks.

• Stress Shopping 🖤💔💗

-> After a heated argument, you storm off on a stress-shopping spree with Lando's card, prompting a call from his bank, but the fight ends in heartfelt apologies and a reminder of his love for you.

• No, you’re not 💔

-> You and Lando have been inseparable since childhood, both secretly in love with each other but too afraid to confess—he believes you deserve better than him, and you think his flings mean he could never see you that way, leaving your feelings tangled in unspoken fears of ruining your lifelong friendship.

• What she is to me🖤💔

-> In the ruthless world of power and betrayal, Lando’s desperate attempts to shield you from the darkness of his empire begin to unravel when a mysterious woman threatens to destroy the fragile trust between you both.

• why didn’t you tell me? 🖤💔💗

-> Lando discovers you’re hiding your illness to avoid worrying him, leading him to care for you tenderly through the night, reaffirming how deeply you mean to him.

• Prom dress 💔💗

-> You sit with Lando after a disappointing prom night, as he reassures you that you don't need perfection to be valued and offers comfort, reminding you that you're not alone.

• Mr. Overthinking 💗

-> Lando navigates the overwhelming mix of excitement and fear about becoming a dad, constantly panicking but finding reassurance in your steady support.

• Nothings new 💔💗

-> Lando, overwhelmed by relentless bullying and emotional strain, reaches a breaking point, leading to a heartbreaking breakdown where he finally allows himself to cry and lean on you for comfort.

• mistletoe and mayhem 💗💛

-> Lando comes home to find you tipsy on Christmas Eve, takes care of your chaotic but endearing antics, and tucks you in with a smile.

• Winter depression 💔💗

-> Lando helps his girlfriend navigate the numbness of her winter depression with patience, love, and small acts of care, reminding her she’s never alone even in her darkest moments.

• In sickness and in secrets 🖤💔💗

-> When you break up with Lando to protect him from your illness, he uncovers the truth, confronts you, and promises to stay by your side, ensuring you receive the best care and his unwavering love.

• though the scope 🖤💔💗

-> Lando, unaware that his wife is the mysterious sniper who has been secretly protecting him, becomes obsessed with uncovering their identity while she struggles to keep her double life hidden to ensure his safety.

->P2

• sounds fun 💗

-> Lando, the shy and self-doubting "nerd" at school, slowly gains confidence as he bonds with you over shared interests, despite his moments of insecurity.

• bribary🖤💗💛

-> Lando Norris, a notorious mafia figure, struggles to get along with his girlfriend's cat, Milo, who constantly hisses and scratches at him, until Lando decides to win him over with a little bribery, resulting in an unexpected truce.

• Christmas shopping 💗

-> Lando carefully shops for thoughtful Christmas gifts for his girlfriend in Monaco, gracefully handling paparazzi attention as he envisions her joy on Christmas morning.

• racing hearts 💔💗

-> Lando panics over the fear of losing his F1 career if he marries his princess girlfriend, says hurtful things, loses her, and later learns from her father that his fears were unfounded, prompting him to win her back and reconcile.

• the weigh of words 💔💗

-> After a heated argument fueled by his frustrations on and off the track, Lando's harsh words pushes you away, forcing him to confront his guilt and fight to mend your relationship through heartfelt apologies and unwavering effort.

• unspoken doubts 💔💗

-> After a misunderstanding fueled by media rumors about Lando’s connection with Magui, you start to doubt their relationship, pulling away from him. But Lando’s commitment to you is unwavering, and he fights to clear the air, proving that his love for you is real and strong.

• stream interrupted ❤️‍🔥💗

-> While Lando is streaming, his focus shifts completely when he sees you dressed in a revealing Halloween outfit, leading to a steamy distraction that leaves both of you cutting the stream for a more private celebration.

• the way to her heart 🖤💗

-> Lando tries to impress you with his lavish lifestyle, but when he puts in the real effort to show you his true self—cooking dinner and building a blanket fort for a cozy night in—he finally wins your heart in a way money never could.

• native language 💗

-> Lando’s playful attempts at learning his partner’s native language bring them closer together, with each small phrase exchanged deepening their connection without the need for grand gestures or complicated words.

• background cuddles 💗

-> While Max Fewtrell tries to focus on his stream, chat becomes obsessed with Lando and you cuddling in the background, turning his gaming session into a hilariously chaotic third-wheel adventure.

• make them pay🖤💔💗

-> When your favorite café is shattered by violence and your friend needs help, you turns to your mafia husband, Lando Norris, to bring justice and restore peace to those you hold dear.

• an unlikely pair 💗

-> Lando has always had a crush on you , but you never really noticed him. When a teacher forces you to study together, you begin to get closer, but doubts arise when your ex teases Lando, making him feel like he’s just a tool for you to pass exams.

• if he gets too close…🖤💔💗

-> Lando breaks up with you to keep you safe from his dangerous world, but when you unknowingly agree to a date with one of his enemies, his protective instincts override his restraint, forcing him to confront both his feelings and the secrets he’s kept from you.

• soft for you 🖤💔💗

-> Lando Norris, a dangerous mafia leader, shows nothing but love and gentleness to his darling, but when she hears whispers of his darker side, he reassures her before taking ruthless action against the man who planted doubt in her mind.

• second chances 💔💗

-> After overhearing his son reveal how hard his mother works to make ends meet, Lando confronts his ex about her struggles and offers them both the stability and love they deserve

• Nerd in love 💗

-> A kind-hearted cheerleader befriends the school’s shy, bullied nerd, standing up for him and forming a heartfelt bond that defies expectations and whispers.

• Off-camera temptations 💗❤️‍🔥💛

-> Lando gets caught off guard when you flash him off-camera during a TikTok prank, but his playful confusion quickly turns into suggestive teasing

• you matter more 🖤💔💗

-> After a misunderstanding involving an unwanted kiss, Lando proves his loyalty to the you by confronting you, clearing up the truth, and eliminating any threat to their relationship

• more than enough 🖤💔💗

-> After overhearing gossip that shakes your confidence in your relationship, you begin to pull away from Lando, only for him to confront your fears head-on and prove his unwavering love and commitment.

• Dinner with a little fame 💗💛

-> Lando meets your family at a chaotic dinner where your parents are clueless about his fame, but your teenage brother’s over-the-top reaction exposes his celebrity status, leading to hilarious misunderstandings and eventual acceptance.

• Tangled hearts 💔💗

-> After a one-night affair leads to an unexpected pregnancy, Lando falls for you, but when you overhear gossip about him dating someone else, you pull away, only for him to reveal he was planning to ask you on a date all along.

• By my side 🖤💔💗

-> Mafia boss Lando Norris fights to prove his love to his maid after cruel gossip causes her to doubt their relationship, ultimately winning her trust and heart.

• Until someone shinier comes along 🖤💔💗

-> Y/N wants to break up with Lando after a cruel guest claims he’ll leave her for someone better. Learning the truth, Lando confronts the guest and reassures Y/N of his unwavering love.

• Yours to protect 🖤💔💗

-> After your toxic ex shakes your confidence, Lando reassures you of his love—but secretly plans to ensure your ex never hurts you again.

• Fake or real? 💗💛

-> A fake proposal for free dessert turns real when Lando confesses his love, changing their prank into something genuine.

• Rivals or lovers? 💔💗

-> Lando and his teammate, initially fierce rivals, slowly begin to realize their unspoken attraction for each other, transforming from enemies to lovers as they confront their fears and vulnerabilities.

• Not now. Not ever 🖤💔💗

-> Lando, consumed by anger during a fight, unknowingly frightens you, causing you to flinch and pull away, leaving him devastated by the realization that he made you fear him and determined to earn back your trust.

• Little secret 🖤💔💗

-> Lando Norris, a mafia boss, falls for a woman hiding her past with an abusive ex and a child she’s trying to protect.

• Brothers bestfriend 💔💗

-> Lando and Carlos younger sister secretly fall in love, risking their relationship with Carlos when the truth comes out.

• Hidden in plain sight 💗💛

-> Lando secretly dates Zak Brown’s daughter, but everyone already knows.

• You belong to me 🖤🩶💗

-> Lando becomes possessive and jealous when he finds you dancing with one of his men at his club, and demands your attention for himself.

• He‘s mine 🖤💔💗

-> Lando tracks you down after two years and discovers your son, vowing to protect you both and rebuild your trust.

• That‘s my girl 🖤💗

-> The girlfriends of illegal street racers compete in a high-stakes race, with you driving Lando’s car to victory and surprising everyone, including Lando, with your skills.

• Prove it 🖤💔💗

-> In a tense and emotional confrontation, you try to leave Lando out of fear, but he proves his unwavering love and devotion, vowing to change and earn your trust.

• Tiny💗

-> Lando overcomes his fear of holding his tiny newborn daughter, discovering an overwhelming love and sense of responsibility that changes him forever.

• Fine line💔💗

-> After a painful breakup with Oscar, you find unexpected love and healing with his teammate Lando, navigating the complexities of loyalty, heartbreak, and new beginnings.

• Hidden past🖤💔💗

-> Lando discovers his girlfriend’s secret criminal past, born from her desperation to protect her family, and vows to stand by her side despite her insistence on handling it alone.

• Misunderstanding 🖤💔💗

-> A misunderstanding over cryptic texts from Lando’s sister leads to heartbreak and confrontation, but ultimately strengthens the trust and love between him and his girlfriend.

• Copacabana 💗💛

-> A stunning performance on Let’s Dance sees you and Lando sharing an undeniable chemistry as you dance to Copacabana, captivating the audience with your graceful moves, bold connection, and breathtaking energy, leaving everyone in awe of your magical partnership.

• bound by blood and fate🖤💔💗

-> After a devastating breakup, Lando is pulled back into your life when an accident reveals not only your fragile state but also the existence of the baby he never knew you carried, forcing him to confront his love for you and his vow to protect his growing family

• Right time🖤💔💗

-> When an intruder threatens your life, Lando's protective instincts take over as he saves you and vows to eliminate any danger, all while you help him find solace in the aftermath.

• Is there someone else?🖤💔💗

-> When Lando grows distant and secretive, leading you to suspect infidelity, you uncover his dangerous efforts to protect you from a rival threatening his place in the criminal underworld.

• shattered trust💔{💗}

-> Lando dumps you for another woman, but soon regrets it and tries to win you back.

• Fourth time‘s the Charm💗💛

-> In which Lando tries to confess to you but gets interrupted every single time.

• The Rookie’s Mistake🖤🩶💗

-> In which a Rookie makes a mistake by unknowingly flirting with someone that belongs to Lando.

• Shadows🖤💔💗

-> Lando’s ruthless mafia life is shaken when his vulnerability, Y/N, becomes a target, forcing him to protect her at all costs.

• The heirs weakness 🖤💗

-> there is only one person who can crack Lando's shell infront of his men.

• Simp sessions and sliding into DM‘s💗💛

-> Y/N openly simps for Lando Norris during a Beta Squad video, and he surprises her by sliding into her DMs.

-> P2

• Interrupted Stream 💗💛

-> Lando is streaming and the chat seems to like his girlfriend more than him.

• Safe Place 💗💛

-> feeling exhausted, Lando calls his girlfriend for a night to allow himself to relax.

• Worth it? 💔

-> after a regretful night, Lando realises how much he really messed up and if it was even worth it?

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hxxi3, @same1995, @amatswimming

[raven-dor]

Hi, could you write something with Charlie Weasley x reader, where reader is friends with the twins and they invite her to the burrow where she meets Charlie, and she's really smart and knows a lot about dragons and that's how her and Charlie start to bond.

Also could reader maybe be a Slytherin, I'm a Slytherin so I just think reader would be too, but the house can be unspecified or something else if you want.

lost without you

in which charlie weasley meets the love of his life

PAIRING: charlie weasley x slytherin!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, sneaking around, falling out, love confessions, molly weasley (sorry...)

AN: i love this request so much... thank you for asking!!

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

She was exhausted, that was for sure. Spending all night- she blushed. She shouldn’t have done that, but he was so kind and strong. Mysterious but gentle. He was brilliant; she could tell by the look in his eyes. 

She giggled as he kissed down her neck, squirming from his touch. He scoffed, no malice behind it. “Love, stop moving…” 

She blushed wildly, hiding her face behind her hands. “I never do this…” 

He pulled himself back to her level, prying her hands away. “There you are.” He whispered. “Don’t hide from me, please.” 

“I’m embarrassed.” She whispered back. “I never-” 

“Never do this.” He smirked, laying beside her and staring at her intensely. “You’ve said.” 

She moved herself closer, tracing shapes on his chest. “What do you do for work?”

He laughed, and she thought to herself he had a rather jolly laugh. “Do you really want to know?” 

She nodded, her eyes begging to shut. His hold was comforting despite the fact that she had known him for approximately two hours. “You look like you have a…” She yawned. “An interesting job.” 

He smiled, leaning his head on hers. “I work in…” 

She had fallen asleep before she had heard where.

Y/N blushed thinking about it. There she was, sleeping in a stranger's arms. 

Then again, it hadn’t felt like that. It felt like she had known him for years. She shook her head, trying to stop herself from daydreaming. George laughed, nudging her ever so softly. “Wake up, Dolly Daydream.” 

She rolled her eyes, shoving him away from her. “I am awake, thank you very much.” 

Fred smirked. “You have that look on your face.” 

“What look?” She glared. “I don’t have a look.” 

He nodded. “Yes, you do.” He laughed. “It's that look when you can't stop thinking about someone.” 

George wiggled his eyebrows. "A secret admirer, perhaps?"

She turned beat red, walking ahead of them to escape the interrogation. 

The twins had a tradition, one they had kept up since they’d gotten into Hogwarts. Every Sunday during the summer, their best friend would come to the Burrow for dinner. There had never been a Sunday she had missed (besides the brief time she was on the run from Voldemort with Ron, Hermione, and Harry). 

And in all that time, Y/N could proudly say she had met every one of their siblings. Except Charlie. According to Mrs. Weasley (who Y/N knew was prone to dramatics) he absolutely hated his family and chose the furthest possible job to worry her. 

Y/N was sure it was because he actually wanted to go to Romania. All her children were good people, and she doubted Charlie stressed his mother out on purpose. 

They had been walking into the Burrow when a shriek rang out from inside the home. Gripping their wands, they ran in ready to fight, when they saw that the shriek had come from Mrs. Weasley, who was sobbing rather dramatically. 

They lowered their wands, peering further into the house to see a young man, not much younger than Bill, being hugged tightly by Ginny. Fred and George left their best friend's side instantly, hugging the man tightly.

“Charlie!” 

Y/N tilted her head, her eyes widening instantly when he turned around. 

What was he- This was the infamous Charlie Weasley. Seeker, Head Boy, and expert Dragonoligist. His grin was bright, and she loved the way his freckles accentuated his cheeks. He locked eyes with her, a twinkle appearing in them. He extended his hand, his voice light and full of humor. “You must be Y/N.” 

She nodded, ignoring the fact that her cheeks felt like they were on fire. She could never tell George and Fred. “That’s me.” 

He smiled, shaking her hand lightly. “I’m Charlie.” 

“I know.” Her eyes widened, and she stumbled over her words, backtracking. “I meant that- Fred and George- I’ve met all of your siblings, so I just thought-” 

He laughed, interrupting her. “It’s alright.” 

Fred raised an eyebrow, clearing his throat. “Shall we eat? I’m famished.” 

Y/N nodded, walking away from Charlie abruptly. George linked arms with his friend, pulling a face when she looked up at him. She rolled her eyes, shoving him away and sitting down. 

Molly smiled at her second eldest son, loading food onto his plate. “You look as if you’ve been starved, Charlie.” 

He glared, taking the food without complaint. “I’ve gained weight since you last saw me, Mum.” 

“What have they been feeding you in Romania?” 

“The same thing you’re giving me now, Mum.” He looked over at Y/N, winking. “I’m all muscle now.” 

Fred shoved him, hissing. “What are you doing?” 

Y/N’s cheeks were still red, and she looked away. Was he trying to fluster her; because he was succeeding. Charlie kept pestering her with small talk, much to her and her blushing nature’s dismay.

“What house were you then?” 

“Slytherin.” She spoke through her food. Placing a hand over her mouth, she said it once more. “I was in Slytherin.” 

His eyebrows rose, but he made no movement to disparage her house. “Makes sense that the twins were drawn to you.” He smirked. “They’ve always been rather cunning.” 

Molly sighed. “You are one of the only Slytherins I’ve been able to stand talking to.” She smiled. “Which is quite the feat.” 

Y/N smiled shyly, not liking all the attention that was currently on her. Normally, she faded into the background, only providing (what she thought) were witty remarks when necessary. And now, here he was, pulling her out of her shell. It was some kind of cruel joke, she decided, that they had met the way they had.

Loud knocks rang through her apartment, and she groaned, shoving her face into her pillow. “One moment!” 

The knocks persisted, and she threw the covers off of her body, racing towards the door, wand in hand. “I said one-” She tilted her head, looking through the peephole to see Charlie. Now suddenly highly self-conscious about her appearance, she cast a beauty spell, smoothing out her hair before opening the door. “Hiya.” 

He nodded. “May I come in?” 

She crossed her arms. “Why?” 

He smirked, stepping closer. “Is it so shocking that I wanted to see you?” 

She blushed, stepping aside so he could enter. Watching suspiciously as he looked around at her flat, she shut the door. “You wanted to see me? That’s it?” 

He nodded, picking up a photo album. “What’s in here I wonder?” 

Y/N laughed, reaching out to steal it from his hold. “Charlie-” 

“Indulge me.” He sat down, patting the cushion beside him. “Tell me about them.” 

She sat beside him, peering over her shoulder and explaining each photo he asked about. “That’s me and the twins in fifth year. I think that was two days after they’d left the hospital wing.” 

Charlie laughed. “When they tried to enter the Triwizard Tournament?” 

She nodded, laughing with him. “Exactly. And that-” She pointed to the next photo. “Is me and George at the Yule Ball.” 

He tensed. “You and George-” 

She shook her head quickly, placing a hand on his arm. “We’re just friends, trust me. Ange would have my head.” 

He smiled. “Ah. Well…” He looked back at the book, smirking at the baby photo. “What’s this-” 

She snatched the book from his hands, clutching it to her chest. “Absolutely not.” 

Charlie had been coming over practically every day since his first impromptu visit. During those visits, they’d discovered that they both had a mutual love of dragons and that her knowledge of dragons rivaled his, a professional dragonkeeper. 

(She never let him forget it.) 

She sat at her bar as Charlie cooked them a Romanian dish he had made ‘one hundred times before.’ Y/N trusted his cooking, after all his mother was Molly Weasley. She then reasoned with herself that his brothers were also Fred and George, who couldn’t cook to save their lives. He moved around her kitchen like he’d lived there for ages, and she tried not to drool as she watched his muscular frame. 

He cleared his throat, laughing. “Williams? You alright?” 

She sat up, realizing she had started daydreaming. Nodding quickly, she smiled. “Great.” 

He sat his spoon down, walking over to her until they were right by each other. “Are you sure? You seemed…” He whispered, staring at her lips. “Distracted.” 

She laughed, walking away. Salazar, if he looked at her like that again, she didn’t know if she could resist- “No, I-” A hand grabbed her wrist, and she gasped. Her skin felt like it was on fire. “Charlie.”

He stood behind her, his breath fanning over her neck. “Tell me you haven’t thought about that night, and I’ll stop. I swear to you.” 

“Charlie, we can’t…” 

“Don’t.” He pulled her close. “Have you thought about that night, yes or no?” 

“Yes.” She nodded, turning around to face him. “Every night.”

He smirked, leaning down. “Every night huh?” 

She nodded once more. “Charlie, stop teasing. It’s-” 

He slammed his lips against hers, grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his waist. “Godric, you’re going to be the ruin of me.” 

That had been months ago. She had felt horrible, keeping it a secret from the twins, Ron, and Salazar, Ginny too. She hadn’t told anyone, which could have been why she felt so wracked with guilt. It was odd, she told herself, to be sleeping with her best friend’s older brother. 

But when Charlie held her in his arms, she forgot all about her guilt. Her heart felt full, and she reasoned with herself that Fred and George would be happy for her if she told them. Happy that she finally found someone that cared about her as much as she-

“Love?” Charlie's voice rang through the door. “Can I come in?” 

She yelled back, casting a beauty spell over herself. “It’s open!” Walking out of her bedroom, she smiled shyly at the ginger man, holding hoards of groceries in his arms. He sat them down on the counter, taking each item out and putting them away.

“How was work?” 

She shrugged. “Same as always I suppose. Kingsley told me if I keep it up, I could be one of the youngest team leads in history.” She laughed, helping him put the last of it away. “Except Harry, of course.” 

Charlie nodded. “He’s quite the talented wizard.” Grabbing the vegetables for their salad, he began rinsing them off in the sink. She walked over, wrapping her arms around his torso. He hummed, smiling to himself. “Do you think we should-” She closed her eyes, taking in his rich scent of teakwood and tobacco. “Do you think we should tell my family about us?” 

Her eyes shot open, and she pulled away from him like he was scolding hot. “What?” 

His back tensed, but he didn’t turn around. “Mum’s been asking to meet the girl who’s been taking up all my time.” 

“Well, what did you say?” She walked toward her fridge, grabbing a butterbeer. 

“I said I’d have to ask her.” He turned around, watching anxiously as she refused to make eye contact. “So, what do you say?” 

“Charlie…” 

His voice was small. “Are you- are you embarrassed?” 

“No it’s not…” She sighed. “It’s not that, Charlie. I just-” 

“I’m sorry I brought it up.” He interrupted. “Let’s just go back to making dinner.” 

She nodded, not wanting to break their peace. But as the night went on, she realized their peace had been broken as soon as she said she hadn’t wanted to tell everyone. The air was tense as they ate, the once warm air turned freezing from the distance between them. She cleared her throat, setting down her fork. “I’ve been meaning to bring this up to you.” 

His face looked sullen, but he sat his fork down as well, staring into her eyes. Her heart fluttered, Salazar, he was beautiful. “Yes?” 

“I-” She gulped. “I think we should stop seeing each other.” 

He nodded calmly. “Is there someone else?” 

She shook her head adamantly. “Merlin, no! I just… I think it’s odd. Don’t you?” 

He tilted his head. “What do you think is odd about this?”

“That you and I-” She stuttered. “I’m their best friend.” 

He nodded. “You are.” 

“It feels wrong, lying to them.” 

“Well,” His voice held a frustration she had never heard before. “That is why we'd tell them.” 

“Charlie…” She was getting tired. “It’s not fair to you; me not wanting to tell them. I’m just-” 

“What?” He laughed hurmourlessly. “What are you?”

“You could be out there, finding someone who you could end up…” She blushed. “You know.” 

He stood up, grabbing his things. “I thought that was you.” His eyes looked heartbroken, and she honestly didn’t know why she was doing this to them. Everything was fine, why- “Because you are.” He smiled lightly. “You are that for me.” 

Her eyes started tearing up. “I’m sorry.” 

He shook his head. “It’s alright.” Opening the door, he whispered over his shoulder. “I’ll see you around then.” 

She’d been a mess for weeks. She’d practically shunned everyone from her life, only going to work because she needed money to live. Peeling off her dress robes, a knock echoed through her flat. Odd, she hadn’t had any planned visitors. “One moment.” 

The knocks were never ending, and she rolled her eyes, stalking towards the door. “I said-” The twins stood in front of her. “Oh.” She stiffened. “Hi.” 

They scoffed, George breaking the tension. “You look like a right mess, Williams.” 

Fred nudged him, murmuring. “George…” He smiled at the girl standing in front of them. “You alright love?” 

Her eyes widened. The last time she’d been called love… It was like she couldn’t forget him. She nodded, ushering them in. “Sit, sit.” 

They came in, taking in their surroundings. Fred cleared his throat. “What have you been up to?” 

“Nothing much.” She forced herself to smile. “How’s the shop?” 

George squinted. “We haven’t seen you for three weeks, and you’re asking how the shop is?” He stood closer to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “What happened, love?” 

“I-” Her throat felt as if it was closing. “Nothing. I swear.” 

He shook his head. “Fine, you don’t need to tell us.” He sat down on the couch, Fred following after him. “Mum’s been asking why you haven’t come to dinner lately.” 

She winced. How would she get out of this?

Answer: she wouldn’t. 

Because moments after, they were flooing to the Burrow, Mrs.Weasley wrapping her arms around her. “Where have you been?” 

She blushed, hugging the older witch back. “Work was busy.” She winced as Mrs.Weasley’s unconvinced stare pierced her soul. “I’m sorry.” 

Mrs. Weasley laughed, ushering her inside. “No apologies necessary. Have you been eating? You look frail, dear.” 

“I-” Charlie was in the kitchen, and upon hearing his mother’s voice, turned around. She felt like she could melt. “Weasley.” 

He nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. “Williams.” 

Mrs. Weasley interrupted. “Why don’t you take a seat in the living room dear. I’ll add an extra plate to the table.” 

She nodded. “Thank you Mrs.Weasley.” Scurrying past Charlie, she plopped down on the couch, staring at the ceiling. 

“You’re alive.” A woman’s voice broke through the silence. She turned her head over, smiling at the new presence.

“Hey Gin.” She stood up, hugging her tightly. “I missed you.” 

Ginny hummed. “I missed you too.” Pulling out of the hug, she grabbed her friend's hands in hers. “Tell me what happened between you and Charlie.” 

Her eyes practically fell out of her sockets. “What are you-” 

Ginny glared. “Don’t play dumb with me. He’s been a whiny mess lately, that can’t be coincidence.” 

“There could be a million reasons for why he's whining. You don’t-” Ginny sat down on the couch, pulling her along.

“What did he do?” Ginny whispered. “I’m very skilled at the Bat Bogey Hex.” 

She laughed. “I know you are. Trust me, it wasn’t his fault. I-” She sighed, leaning against the back of the couch. “I thought you’d be upset at me, if you knew I was seeing your brother. Besides, Charlie is sweet, I’m not the right fit for him.” 

A deep voice echoed through the room. “Don’t you think that’s for me to decide?” Ginny’s eyes widened, and Y/N stared back, begging her not to leave. “Could you give us a moment, Gin?” 

She held on to Ginny’s hands as tightly as she could, but Ginny pulled away, murmuring sorry as she raced out of the room, no doubt telling her boyfriend and entire family. So much for secrecy. Taking a deep breath, she stood up, waving casually. “Charlie.” 

“You’re not the right fit?” He scoffed, walking close enough so that he could whisper and only she would hear. “You’re not the right fit, really?” 

“You know what I meant.” 

“I don’t really.” He grabbed her hands in his. “You are what I’ve-” He took a deep breath, most likely gathering the courage to tell her. “You are what I’ve always wanted. What I’ve always dreamt of.” 

She blushed. “Don’t patronize me…” 

“Love…” He tilted his head. “You are everything to me, and it kills me to be apart from you. Really.” 

“I don’t know how the twins would react-” 

“Who cares!” He yelled, quickly remembering he was inside and lowering his voice. “Who cares? I love you and I-” Charlie’s golden eyes widened, and he stuttered. “I mean-” His smile was sure, brighter even. “I love you, and if you love me, then we can make it. Through anything, including my brother’s disapproval.” Pulling her as close as he physically could, he whispered. “I don’t think I can be that separated from you ever again. It was torture, Williams.” He leaned down, their foreheads leaning against each other. “Utter torture.” 

“I love you too-” He pulled her lips to his, kissing her as deep as his body would allow him. She squeaked, melting in his touch. “Charlie, wait just a moment.” He groaned, leaning his head on her shoulder. “I know you could do perfectly fine with your brother’s disapproval, but they’re my best friends. I can’t just… I can’t lose them.” 

He whispered into the crook of her neck, chills running down her spine. “Even if that meant losing me?” 

She kissed his temple, humming. “I’m sorry.” Forcing herself to pull away, she ignored the chills that fell down her spine when Charlie grabbed her wrist, halting her in her tracks.

"I admire it, how fiercly loyal you are to my brothers." He laughed. "Very Gryffindor of you, I must say."

She scoffed, her eyes tearing up ever so slightly. "What can I say? Weasleys are worth protecting."  

The table was tense, Y/N avoiding every attempt Charlie made at eye contact. The twins were suspiciously watching the pair, wondering what exactly was going on. Ginny had surprisingly not told everyone, contrary to Y/N’s belief. Mrs. Weasley tried to make conversation, but she only made the situation worse. “So Charlie, whatever happened to that girl of yours? The one you were sneaking off to see.” 

Y/N looked up from her plate, staring at Charlie. He sighed, taking a sip of water. “She’s busy Mum.” 

Mrs.Weasley nodded, turning her attention to Y/N. “And you dear? How has work been? I hope Kinglsey isn’t giving you too hard of a time.” 

“Work’s been fantastic, thank you Mrs.Weasley. I actually…” She took a deep breath, grinning from ear to ear. “I just got promoted to team lead.” 

The table erupted into well wishes and congratulations. Mrs.Weasley smiled. “That is wonderful dear. You must be the youngest yet.” 

She nodded, giving a pointed look to Harry. “Besides this one, yes.” 

Charlie cleared his throat. “Congratulations, Williams.” 

The table quieted, and Y/N smiled gratefully, daring to make eye contact with him. “Thank you.” 

Ginny coughed, obviously trying to get her attention, but Y/N couldn’t be bothered to break eye contact with him. His eyes were dangerous, she’d determined, and there was a spark in them that was not there earlier. Butterflies erupted in her stomach, and she shook her head slightly. 

He was about to do something neither of them could take back, she knew it. 

She also couldn’t find it in her to care.

Charlie stood, his seat scrapping against the floor. His parents’s eyebrows furrowed. Mr.Weasley spoke first. “Are you alright son?” 

Charlie nodded, still looking at Y/N. “I’m perfect. I-” He smiled. “I have something to say.” 

Mrs. Weasley smiled knowingly. “Spit it out dear.” 

Y/N held her breath, nodding encouragingly. A second wind overtook him, and he stood strong. “I’m in love-” 

Mrs. Weasley grinned. “That’s wonderful dear!” 

Fred and George teased. “Lucky girl, that one.” 

Y/N tried to control her blush. Charlie smiled. “I’m in love with Williams.” 

She looked around the table, trying to gage reactions based off their expressions. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked positively shocked, and Fred and George… Her eyes widened. They didn’t look shocked in the slightest. Charlie continued. “I don’t want to upset you two, but we-” 

George laughed. “Why would we be upset?” 

Fred nodded. “We’ve known for months.” 

Mrs. Weasley scoffed. “Months? Charlie Weasley, you kept this sweet girl a secret-” 

“That’s actually my fault Mrs.Weasley.” Y/N interjected. “I- I didn’t want to upset the twins.” They pulled faces, rolling their eyes. “Why would we be upset? If anything, we’d be upset at Charlie for corrupting sweet little Y/N/N.” 

Y/N shoved them. “Shut it, both of you.” 

Charlie smiled, sitting back down. “Well I guess that’s settled then.” Y/N smiled back, mouthing the words he so longed to hear. ‘I love you.’ 

Mrs. Weasley sighed, picking at food. “Shall I be expecting more grandchildren anytime soon?” 

Y/N choked on her drink, clutching her chest. Charlie’s eyes widened, cheeks bright red. “Mum!” 

“I’m only asking.” Mrs. Weasley held her hands up in surrender. “Victorie has been so lonely.” 

Charlie tilted his head. “We’re not even married yet, Mum.” He looked over at Y/N, winking. “But that can be arranged.” 

It was Y/N’s turn to scoff. “Charlie Weasley, absolutely not.” 

He stuck his lower lip out, pouting. “What-” 

“Ask me in a year, not before then or after.” She nodded resolutely, taking a sip of her pumpkin juice, ignoring the looks from her friends. 

Charlie nodded, looking much too happy. “Yes ma’am.”

taglist: @beebeechaos

[l0standn0tf0und]

damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes

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

words| +- 4400

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I thought she was Jade"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He fucked up. He knows it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So…?"

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

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

"George!…"

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

"George!…"

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

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

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

"George!…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bonus:

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

"But…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Galleons or Sickles?"

"What?"

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

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

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

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

masterpost

[kisses-for-you]

jealous - g. weasley

george weasley x fem!reader

summary: when george sees you together with cedric, he quickly starts to feel jealous. w/c: 1.8k

The library was fairly quiet, which was nothing out of the ordinary. You always loved the library for this reason; it was a great place to just sit down and focus. You were sat across from Cedric, looking at the Charms textbook in front of the two of you. Nonverbal spells were something you had recently been introduced to as sixth year students and they certainly were not easy. However, Cedric had been a surprisingly good partner - calm, patient, and able to lighten the mood when you needed it.

"Okay, try this one," he said, his voice light as he leaned forward, pointing at a spell in the textbook. His eyes sparked with amusement and you could tell he was trying to hide a smile.

With a sharp breath, you thought of a spell in your mind, your wand flicking in the air, but yet, nothing happened. A frustrated sigh escaped you, and Cedric let out a laugh that filled the silence of the library.

"Honestly, I think it works better when you don't try so hard," Cedric teased, leaning back in his chair with an easy grin. "You're tense. Relax, like this." He demonstrated a subtle flick of his wrist, his expression serious for a moment, then the faintest shimmer of light twinkled from his wand's tip. "See?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "You're just showing off, Ced."

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. "And you're just jealous," he teased. You responded with a playful eye roll as he poked fun at you, both of you laughing as your conversation started to flow in a different direction.

It was then that George walked in, his familiar presence filling the space before you even saw him. His footsteps slowed when he saw you and Cedric, both of you too caught up in your little world to notice his arrival at first. He stood there for a moment, watching as you both chuckled at something Cedric had just said.

George's usual smirk was nowhere to be found. His gaze shifted between you and Cedric, an unfamiliar tightness in his chest that he couldn't quite ignore. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against a nearby bookshelf, trying his best to keep his tone casual. "Well, you two definitely look cozy," George said, his voice more clipped than usual.

You glanced up, surprised at his sudden interruption. You tried to ignore what he said as you didn't want to cause a scene in front of Cedric and anyone else in the library. A small wave of guilt hit you, but you brushed it off, offering him a warm smile. "Babe! What's up?" you asked.

George's eyes flickered with a mixture of frustration and something you couldn't quite place, but his voice was calm, almost too calm. "Nothing. Just wanted to see if you were ready to head out," he replied, his gaze still fixed on you, though it kept darting back to Cedric. The way his jaw clenched told you everything you needed to know - he wasn't happy.

You stood up, pushing your chair back with a small scrape of wood against the floor. "Yeah, I'll be done in a minute," you said, glancing at Cedric. "Thanks for helping me with the spell work," you added, offering him a smile, but George's stiff posture didn't escape your attention.

Without another word, George turned and started walking toward the door, his steps heavier than usual, the sharp click of his shoes echoing in the otherwise quiet library. A twinge of guilt pinched at you as you watched him, his back now to you, and you felt your stomach twist.

"George!" you called after him, voice a little too loud for the library. His shoulders stiffened, but he didn't turn around.

You glanced back at Cedric, who seemed to be trying his best to look neutral, but you could see the understanding in his eyes. He gave you a small nod, telling you to go ahead and deal with whatever was going on with George. So you quickly grabbed your things, tossing your books into your bag and hurrying after George. He was already halfway down the corridor when you caught up, walking briskly with his head down, clearly trying to make a point.

"George, wait," you said, catching up to him and placing a hand on his arm. He stopped, but only briefly, his muscles tense under your touch. His eyes flickered over to you, and for a split second, you could see the storm brewing in them.

"Are you really gonna do this now?" he asked, his voice laced with a biting edge.

"Do what?" you asked, your heart pounding. "George, What's going on? Why are you acting like this?"

He turned to face you fully, his expression tight with something you couldn't quite read. "I don't know, maybe I'm just tired of seeing you always acting so lovey dovey with Cedric. That's all," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You blinked, taken aback by his words. "What? George, it's nothing like that. We're just studying," you said, trying to reassure him, but the way his lips pressed together made you feel like he wasn't buying it.

"Yeah, sure, studying," he repeated, his voice low and heavy with jealousy. "Doesn't seem like just studying to me."

A wave of frustration hit you. "You're being ridiculous," you said, exasperated, but there was no anger in your voice, just concern. "We're friends, George. Why does it bother you so much?"

For a long moment, he didn't speak, and you couldn't quite tell if he was holding back or just trying to figure out what to say. When he finally met your eyes, it was with a look you hadn't really seen from him before - vulnerable, unsure, and maybe even a little hurt.

"Because," he began quietly, his voice softer now, "I don't like seeing you acting like that with someone else. I care about you so much more than you know."

Your heart skipped at his words, and the realization hit you like a wave. Before you could respond, George turned on his heel again, starting to walk away.

"George, wait!" you called once again, your voice more urgent this time, and you jogged after him. When you finally caught up to him, you grabbed his arm again, a little more firmly this time. "Stop walking away from me," you said, your voice wavering slightly but firm enough to make him pause.

He turned to you, his expression a mix of frustration and pain. "What do you want me to say, huh?" George snapped, though his voice cracked at the end. "That I'm jealous? Fine. I am. Happy now?"

The confession hung in the air between you, his words echoing in your mind. Your breath hitched as you looked at him, his vulnerability written all over his face. This wasn't the playful, confident George you were used to. This was someone raw, someone real, someone afraid.

"I- George..." You stumbled over your words, unsure of what to say. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that. Cedric and I; there's nothing going on. I promise."

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. "It's not just about Cedric. It's about me feeling like I don't even compare. Like I'm not enough for you."

Your heart ached at his words, and you stepped closer, reaching up to cup his face. He flinched slightly at the touch but didn't pull away. "You're wrong," you said softly, your voice trembling. "You are more than enough. You always have been."

His gaze searched yours, looking for the truth in your words. For a moment, he didn't say anything and you worried he still didn't believe you. But then, he sighed deeply, his shoulders relaxing as the tension began to ebb away. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I shouldn't have acted like that. I just- seeing you with him, like that, it messed with my head."

You smiled faintly, your thumb brushing over his cheek. "It's okay. But you have to trust me, George. I love you, not Cedric. You're the only one I want to be with."

His eyes softened at your words, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You really mean that?"

"Of course I do, you idiot," you said with a laugh, the tension between you finally breaking. "Now, can go get something to eat? I'm starving after today."

He chuckled, the sound lighter this time. "Yeah, okay. But only if I get to carry your bag."

You rolled your eyes but handed it over, watching as he slung it over his shoulder with a triumphant grin. The two of you walked side by side down the corridor, the earlier tension now almost nowhere to be seen.

Later that evening, as you sat with George in the cozy warmth of the Gryffindor common room, you couldn't help but notice how he seemed to be trying just a little harder than usual. His jokes were coming faster, his signature grin wider and brighter than ever. He was pulling out all the stops to make you laugh - and it was working.

"You know," you said between giggles as he mimicked one of Fred's particularly awful impressions, "we're going to wake the whole school at this rate."

George smirked, leaning back dramatically on the sofa. "If they wake up, it'll be worth it. Everyone can hear me cracking you up," he teased, nudging your knee with his. His playful expression softened as he added, "But really, I just like seeing you happy. That laugh of yours? It's mine to hear."

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache, and you reached over to take his hand in yours. "It is," you agreed softly, your fingers intertwining with his. "And for the record, no one can make me laugh like you can, George Weasley."

A smug grin spread across his face, and he puffed out his chest exaggeratedly. "Obviously," he said, with mock arrogance. "Cedric might be good at spells, but he's got nothing on my comedic genius."

You snorted, swatting at his arm playfully. "You're impossible," you said, but your voice was full of affection.

"Impossible to resist," he countered, leaning in and brushing a soft kiss against your forehead.

As the fire crackled beside you, you nestled closer into his side. George's arm wrapped around your shoulders, and you felt the earlier tension melt away completely. There might be other people in your life, but at the end of the day, George was the one who truly knew how to make you feel at home.

H.P. masterlist

[vilentia]

Physical Touch

George Weasley x reader

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shook his head, confusion written across his face.

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

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

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

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

[xoxoch3rry]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝔹𝕖𝕥𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕌𝕤 | 𝔽𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕎𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕝𝕖𝕪

@ xoxoch3rry do not steal or translate my work.

ᴳᴵᶠ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ~

Word count: 1,453

────

Fred Weasley x fem!Malfoy reader

Warnings: Unrequited love, Angst.

Summary: Fred refuses to give up, determined to prove that love can transcend their families' hatred—even if it means facing heartbreak along the way.

────⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆˖ ࣪⊹────

The Hogwarts corridors were quieter than usual. Most students were at dinner, the Great Hall alive with chatter and clinking cutlery. You, however, found solace in the emptiness of the castle. You didn’t feel like sitting through another evening surrounded by the icy stares and cutting remarks of your housemates in Slytherin. The weight of your last name—Malfoy—was one you carried silently, its expectations heavy on your shoulders.

You turned a corner, your robes brushing against the stone walls, only to come face-to-face with Fred Weasley. His fiery red hair was unmistakable, even in the dim light of the torches lining the hall. His face lit up when he saw you, a grin spreading across his freckled face.

“Fancy meeting you here, Malfoy,” he said, leaning casually against the wall as if he hadn’t deliberately waited for you.

You sighed, your grip tightening on the book in your hands. “What do you want, Weasley?”

Fred’s grin faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly, his brown eyes sparkling with something between mischief and longing. “Just wanted to see you. Is that so bad?”

“Yes,” you said curtly, though your voice lacked the venom you wished it carried. You stepped around him, your pace quickening, but you weren’t surprised when he fell into step beside you.

“You can’t keep avoiding me forever, you know,” he said, his tone lighter than the conversation warranted.

“I’m not avoiding you,” you muttered, keeping your gaze fixed ahead.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Fred shot back, his voice softening. “You’ve been avoiding me since last week. Since—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted, coming to an abrupt stop. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. “Don’t bring that up.”

He frowned, his usual confidence faltering. “Y/N, I meant what I said.”

You clenched your jaw, the memory of his confession playing in your mind. Fred Weasley, the Gryffindor prankster, the boy with an infectious laugh and a heart far too kind for someone like you, had told you he loved you. And you had turned him away.

────

Later that night, you sat by the fire in the Slytherin common room, absently stroking Draco’s white owl as it perched on the arm of your chair. Across from you, Draco slouched on the couch, one leg draped over the other, his silver eyes watching you intently.

“You’re brooding again,” Draco said, his voice cutting through the silence.

“I’m not brooding,” you snapped, though you both knew it was a lie.

Draco smirked, his trademark arrogance shining through. “You only sit in that chair when you’re thinking about him.”

You glared at him, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Fred Weasley,” Draco said, his tone dripping with disdain. “That one twin who seems to think following you around like a lovesick puppy is charming.”

“He’s not following me,” you muttered, though you knew it wasn’t entirely true. “And he’s not… he’s not a bad person, Draco.”

“He’s a Weasley,” Draco said sharply. “That’s bad enough.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Try me.”

For all his faults—and there were many—Draco was still your brother, the one person you could confide in without fear of judgment. You hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“He… he told me he loved me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Draco’s eyes widened in surprise before narrowing in irritation. “And you didn’t hex him?”

“Draco,” you said warningly.

“What?” he said, throwing his hands up. “You can’t seriously be considering—”

“I’m not,” you interrupted, your voice firm. “It doesn’t matter how I feel. We can’t be together.”

Draco studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Good,” he said finally. “Because if Father found out—”

“I know,” you said, cutting him off. “I know, Draco.”

He nodded, leaning back into the couch with a satisfied smirk. “Just make sure it stays that way.”

────

But it didn’t stay that way. Fred didn’t give up.

The next day, you found a note tucked into your Potions textbook. The handwriting was unmistakably Fred’s, the letters slightly slanted and playful.

Meet me by the Astronomy Tower after class. Please.

You crumpled the note in your fist, your stomach twisting. You told yourself you wouldn’t go, that it was better to stay away. But as the day wore on, your resolve faltered. By the time night fell, you found yourself climbing the stairs to the Astronomy Tower.

Fred was waiting for you, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the railing. When he saw you, his face lit up with that familiar grin, though it quickly faded into something softer.

“You came,” he said, his voice tinged with surprise.

“Don’t make me regret it,” you replied, though there was no real bite to your words.

Fred stepped closer, his brown eyes searching yours. “Y/N, I meant what I said. I love you. And I know you feel something too.”

You turned away, your hands gripping the cold stone railing. “It doesn’t matter how I feel, Fred. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” he asked, his voice cracking. “Because of our families? Because of some stupid rivalry that’s been going on for centuries?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice trembling. “Because of that. Because my family would never accept this. Because your family would never accept me.”

Fred stepped closer, his hand brushing yours. “My family would love you, Y/N. If they knew you the way I do, they’d love you.”

You pulled your hand away, tears stinging your eyes. “You don’t understand, Fred. You don’t understand what it’s like to be a Malfoy. The expectations, the pressure… I can’t just walk away from that.”

“You don’t have to,” he said, his voice soft but desperate. “I’m not asking you to give up your family. I’m just asking you to give us a chance.”

You turned to face him, your heartbreaking at the look in his eyes. “Fred, I can’t.”

“Won’t,” he corrected, his voice bitter. “You won’t.”

“Call it whatever you want,” you said, stepping back. “But this… this has to stop.”

Fred stared at you, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You’re wrong,” he said finally, his voice trembling with emotion. “This doesn’t have to stop. I won’t give up on you, Y/N. I can’t.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. Instead, you turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone in the cold night air.

────

The following weeks were torture. Fred didn’t give up, no matter how much distance you tried to put between you. He left notes in your books, charmed enchanted paper planes to find you in the library, and even sent you a bouquet of enchanted flowers that bloomed in Slytherin green and silver.

Your housemates teased you mercilessly, though none of them knew the truth. Only Draco knew, and he made sure to remind you of the consequences every chance he got.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said one evening, his voice low and sharp. “If Father finds out…”

“He won’t,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

Draco scoffed, shaking his head. “You can’t keep this up, Y/N. He’s not going to stop.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know how to.

────

It all came to a head one evening in the library. You were sitting alone, trying to focus on your Potions essay, when Fred appeared, soaked from the rain. His hair stuck to his forehead, and his usually mischievous grin was replaced with a look of pure determination.

“Fred,” you hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. “What are you doing here?”

“Talking to you,” he said, sitting across from you. “You’ve been avoiding me again.”

“For good reason,” you said, your voice tight. “You’re making this harder than it has to be.”

“Because it’s worth it,” he said firmly. “Because you’re worth it.”

Your resolve cracked, tears welling in your eyes. “Fred, please…”

“No,” he said, his voice breaking. “I love you, Y/N. And I think you love me too, even if you won’t admit it. So tell me—tell me right now that you don’t feel anything for me, and I’ll leave you alone. Forever.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Because you couldn’t. Because it wasn’t true.

Fred leaned forward, his brown eyes locked onto yours. “Say it, Y/N. Say you don’t love me.”

At that moment, you realized that no matter how hard you tried to fight it, Fred Weasley had already claimed a piece of your heart.

“I love you.”

[raekensluver]

echoes of loss and love

description: you are haunted by memories of your relationship with fred weasley before his death. you feel like you're stuck in a loop, unable to move on when one day, george tells you fred was going to propose.

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader, platonic!george weasley x fem!reader

contains: angst, mentions of the hogwarts war, fred's canon death, survivors guilt.

song rec: all i want by kodaline- "but if you loved me, why did you leave me?"

w.c: 1.8k

an: to whoever wrote that one fic where george dyes his hair blue because he hates that whenever he looks in the mirror he sees fred- count. your. days. thx !!

the morning air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of fresh dew from the burrow. you sat on the edge of the bed, your feet touching the cold wooden floorboards, feeling the weight of the world press down on your shoulders. your eyes scanned the room, lingering on the frayed curtains and the chipped paint on the walls. the familiarity of it all brought a pang of nostalgia and a deep, unshakeable sadness. you had not slept well, as was the norm these days, plagued by dreams that felt more like echoes of a past life than mere nocturnal imaginings.

george lay sprawled across on his own bed on the other side of the room, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. his face was a portrait of peace, untouched by the burdens that you knew he bore in his waking hours. the sight of him there, so much like fred, yet so painfully different, brought a lump to your throat. you remembered the countless nights you had spent in this very room, sharing laughter and secrets with the two of them until the early hours of the morning. the twins had always been inseparable, a unit, a force of nature that could not be divided. but now, fred's side of the room remained cold and untouched aside from your movement, a stark reminder of the gaping hole left in both your heart and the fabric of the weasley family.

you stood up slowly, the floorboards creaking beneath you, and padded over to the window. outside, the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, casting a soft, warm light on the dew-kissed garden. the leaves on the trees were tinged with gold and red, whispering of the approaching autumn. it was a beautiful scene, but the beauty felt hollow, as if the vibrancy of color was only a cruel mockery of the emptiness you felt within. you leaned against the windowsill, your eyes tracing the patterns the light made on the floor.

the guilt was a heavy, constant presence, like a shadow that never left your side. you had been there when the wall exploded, when fred's life had been so brutally extinguished. the sound of the blast still reverberated in your ears, a never-ending echo of the moment that had torn your world apart. his laughter, his warmth, his very essence had been wrenched away from you, leaving nothing but cold, empty space. you could still see the look in his eyes, the flash of surprise and pain, the way his hand had reached out for you as if he could somehow pull you into safety.

for a while, george had been cold towards you, his grief a tangible barrier that you couldn't breach. every time you looked at him, you saw the accusation in his gaze, the unspoken question of why it had been fred and not you. you understood his anger, his pain, but it didn't make the silent treatment any easier to bear. the burden of guilt grew heavier with each passing day, each missed opportunity to apologize or explain, to somehow make it right. but what could you say? there were no words to justify the cruel hand of fate that had taken fred from you both.

you decided to make some tea, hoping the warmth would soothe your soul. the kitchen was quiet, the embers of the fireplace glowing dimly. as you filled the kettle with water, the rusty pipes groaned, reminding you of the burrow's age. the weasley's had lived here for generations, and it was a place filled with love and laughter. now, it felt like a museum dedicated to a happiness that no longer existed. you placed the kettle on the stove and watched as the flame grew, the heat slowly spreading through the metal.

staring at the teapot, you waited for the water to boil. it was a simple task, one that had been done countless times before in this very kitchen. but today, it felt like a monumental effort. every second that ticked by was a reminder of the moments you had lost with fred. the teapot began to whistle, a shrill sound that pierced the silence. you jumped, startled, and hastily turned off the stove. the whistle died down, leaving only the soft hiss of the cooling water. you paused, your hand hovering over the teapot, your eyes welling up with unshed tears. fred had always liked his tea with three lumps of sugar and a dash of milk, just like his mother made it. the thought brought a bittersweet smile to your face.

the door to the kitchen creaked open, and you looked up to see george standing there, his hair a wild mess from sleep. his eyes searched yours, a silent question hanging in the air. for a moment, you felt like you were seeing fred in his place, the same look of curiosity and concern mirrored in his twin's gaze. your heart clenched, and you had to look away, focusing instead on the steaming kettle. "can't sleep?" he asked, his voice thick with the grogginess of early morning.

you nodded, your voice a whisper. "same dreams."

george's eyes softened with understanding. he padded over to the table and pulled out a chair, the legs scraping against the floor. "i know," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "it's like he's still here, but every time i turn around, he's gone again."

you filled two cups with tea, the warmth of the porcelain comforting against your cold palms. you slid one across the table to him, and he took it with a nod of thanks. "it's just… i can't shake the feeling that i should have done more," you confessed, the words spilling out like a dam breaking. "i should have been able to save him."

george was silent for a long moment, the only sound the clinking of spoons against the sides of the cups as you both added sugar and stirred. "you can't blame yourself," he said finally, his voice gentle. "none of us could have seen that coming. it was war, and fred knew the risks."

you took a sip of your tea, the warmth spreading through you like a comforting embrace. "i know that," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "but it doesn't make it any easier."

george reached across the table and took your hand in his, his grip firm and reassuring. his thumb traced circles on the back of your hand, a silent gesture of comfort. his eyes met yours, and for the first time since the battle, you saw something other than pain and anger in them. there was a glimmer of understanding, a bridge built from shared grief. "you know," he began, his voice low and tentative, "after it happened, i kept thinking about all the times we argued, all the little things that didn't seem to matter. i wish i could take them all back, tell him how much he meant to me."

you nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks. "i do too. i wish i could tell him how much i loved him."

george took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "you know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "fred had plans for after the war."

your heart skipped a beat. plans? what could fred have planned that you didn't know about? "what do you mean?"

george's gaze fell to the table, his thumb still moving in soothing circles on your hand. "he had a ring," he said, his voice barely audible. "he was going to ask you to marry him, after the war. said he couldn't wait any longer to make it official."

a cold shock washed over you. a ring? fred had wanted to marry you? you felt your breath catch in your throat, the reality of what you had lost sinking in even deeper. "what happened to it?" you managed to ask, your voice shaking.

george's eyes searched yours, and then he got up from his chair, leaving his hand on the table. "he hid it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "he didn't want to carry it with him in case…" his voice trailed off, and you could see the pain etched on his face. he disappeared from the room, leaving you sitting there, the cup of tea cooling in your hand, the words echoing in the silence.

a few moments later, he returned, a small, worn box in his hand. he placed it on the table between you, and you could see his hand tremble as he pushed it towards you. you picked it up, your heart racing. the box was old, the leather cracked and faded, the clasp stiff with disuse. you opened it, and there, nestled in the velvet, was the ring. it was a simple band of gold, with an intricate knot design, the kind that fred had always loved. a small diamond glinted in the early morning light, winking at you like a teardrop frozen in time.

you slid the ring onto your finger, and it fit perfectly, as if it had been made just for you. it was a strange sensation, a warmth that seemed to seep into your very soul, a final gift from fred that you hadn't expected. the weight of it felt right, like a piece of him that you could hold onto forever. you looked up at george, his eyes filled with a mix of pain and hope. "he picked it out himself, " he said, his voice thick with emotion. "he wanted you to know that you were it for him."

you didn't know what to say, so you just sat there, staring at the ring, feeling the warmth of fred's love through the metal. the silence stretched between you, filled with a thousand unspoken words. the sun was now fully up, casting a soft glow through the kitchen window, painting the room in shades of gold and amber. it was a moment that felt both surreal and achingly real, a moment that you knew would be etched into your memory forever.

finally, you found your voice. "thank you," you whispered, your eyes still fixed on the ring. "for telling me. for giving me this."

george nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "you were the best thing that ever happened to him," he said, his voice cracking. "i know he'd want you to have it."

you felt a lump form in your throat, unable to find the words to express your gratitude. instead, you leaned across the table and hugged him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the comfort of his familiar scent, so much like fred's. it was a bittersweet moment, one that brought both solace and pain.

for a while, you sat there in silence, sipping your tea, the ring feeling like a lifeline to a past you could never quite touch again. but it was a lifeline you were grateful for, a tangible piece of fred that you could hold onto. as you sat with george, you realized that while you would never be able to fill the void left by fred's absence, you had each other. two broken halves of a whole, trying to find a new way to live in a world that had changed irrevocably.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Birthday Boys

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[mastermindmiko]

Healing

Pairing: George Weasley + Reader Word count: 1k Summary: You comfort George after a big fight (The fight in the fifth book with Draco Malfoy) Warnings: Injuries? I think that is all, but lmk if you notice anything Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist

I take in a deep breath and then knock slowly at the boys’ door. No response. I knock again, and instead I hear a grumble. I take it as a sign to slowly open the door, I take a peek from behind it, and George is sitting on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, and head in his hands. Fred, on the other hand, is lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling. 

“Hey.” I murmur, and George tilts his head to see me from in between his fingers. He doesn’t smile at me like he usually does, and it makes me believe that this time is worse than the rest. Fred, sits himself up on his elbows, and he looks as though he’s in much better shape than George is. 

I purse my lips and look back at George again. I take a few shy steps towards his bed, and then sit down beside him. He shifts a bit to the side allowing more room for me. I look back at Fred again, but it turns out he’d already read my mind and left the room after giving me two thumbs up. 

I place a tentative hand on George’s thigh, and it makes him lift his head up from his hands. I could see the way his face was contorted, frowning, scrunched up brows, and his jaw clenched. I note the obvious, “You’re pissed.” 

I almost feel stupid saying it because of course he would be. Malfoy was out of line, more than usual, but instead of a few insults this time it resulted in a fight, and George got expelled from playing Quidditch for the rest of the year, and to make matters worse this is his last year. He replies, “I’m not pissed, I’m hurt.” 

It’s my turn to frown because the words that that git Malfoy said couldn’t actually be getting to him, could they? I voice, “George, you couldn’t actually care about what he said. He was just saying it to get a reaction out of you. His best insult was calling you a weasel, he’s an idiot for Merlin’s sake!” 

“Doesn’t make any of them less true.” He protests. I’m baffled by his response, I say, “No, they aren’t-” 

“Yes, they are.” He snaps, and he scrunches his face up, eyes shut in regret at raising his voice. He cups my hand as an apology, brushing his lips over the back of my hand before explaining, “He’s right. We are poor, and the clothes we wear are hand-me-downs-” 

I interrupt him, “I will not go a second longer listening to you talk about yourself, or your family that way. Money doesn’t matter as much as you’re making it seem. And surely, you’re not going to let comments from an idiot who cares more about blood status and money than what a person is actually like get to your head.” 

“But, wouldn’t you like to have more than what the money that I have can get you?” He implores, and I give him a weak smile. Raising my hands to cup his face, my thumb grazing the scratch that he has across his eyebrow. I say, “And we’ll have that, George.” 

I teased him a little more, “You still are planning to open the shop, aren’t you?” A small smile breaks on his face, and he even lets out a small chuckle. The air feels lighter around us, and George leans closer to me to press a kiss to my lips. I sigh, the feeling of it never gets old. 

I look down at his hands, and frown at the sight of the blood. George was the one who gave out most of the blows and punches. He was too angry after the fight, and left stomping to his room. I wanted to insist that he go to Madame Pomfrey for his injuries, but I could tell he needed some time to blow off some steam, that’s the reason why I waited before talking to him. 

“Do you want to go to the Hospital wing to heal those?” I ask, and he shakes his head, looking down at his knuckles, presumably, remembering that they were bleeding. He rests his head on my shoulder, and my shoulder is weighed down. He hums, “I’d rather not face anyone for a while.” 

“Don’t worry, I can heal them for you. Not as good as Madame Pomfrey, but it’ll do for now.” I decide, bringing out my want from my robes. I start to wave my wand at the cracks in the skin, and mutter small enchantments. The small ones fade away, but the larger ones leave small scars on the skin. I rub my thumb over his hand to signal that I’m done, and George twists his head to leave a small kiss to the base of my neck. 

I raise my hand to lift his head from off of my shoulder, and hold his chin, raising my wand to cast a spell over the scar that slashed across his eyebrow. I bite my lip at the sight of it. George questions, “What is it?” 

“You look so good with that scar.” I admit, feelings my cheeks heat up at the confession. He smirks at me, and I can already hear the teasing coming from a mile away. He grins and says, “Such a shame for you that it’ll go away in a few days…of course, I can get into more fights, so you’ll never have to do without it.” 

I hid my face in his chest in embarrassment and he wrapped his arms around me, laughing at my reaction. I mumble, patting his back gently, “Stay out of fights till we see what we can do about this Quidditch suspension, alright?” 

He pushes me away from his chest to look into my eyes. He leans down and kisses me once, and twice and another one after that. He says, “Thank you.” 

[rose24207]

May I request a George Weasley x Slytherin reader where after being dating in secret for a while they decide to stop hiding but George's friends are mean to her when he's not around and she doesn't want to say anything because she knows how important they are for him but George eventually finds out and defends his girlfriend? a bit angsty with a fluff ending please

What they’re like

Summary: George confronts his friends after overhearing hurtful comments about his Slytherin girlfriend, defending her fiercely and making it clear that their behavior won’t be tolerated.

Genre: angst, fluff

TW: bullying

A/N: love the idea! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

You’d always known dating George Weasley wouldn’t be easy, especially not when the two of you came from different houses. A Slytherin dating a Gryffindor was bound to raise eyebrows, but you thought the worst of it would come from your own housemates. You hadn’t expected his friends—people George trusted and cared about—to be the ones who made it so hard.

It started small. A muttered joke in the common room when George wasn’t there. A pointed glance or a scoff when you passed by. At first, you told yourself it didn’t matter. They didn’t know you, not really. George did. That should’ve been enough.

But then the comments grew sharper, more direct.

“Wonder how long this one’s going to last,” one of them said after you’d walked by.

“She’s probably using him,” another replied. “That’s what Slytherins do, right?”

It stung, but you kept your head high, pretending not to hear. You didn’t want to burden George with it. You knew how much his friends meant to him. If you said something, it might make things awkward for him, and that was the last thing you wanted.

Still, you couldn’t hide how it was affecting you—not entirely. You started avoiding Gryffindor Tower unless George was with you. You lingered at the edge of conversations when his friends were around, smiling tightly and letting their barbs roll off your back. Or at least, trying to.

Fred noticed first.

It was during a free period when Fred overheard it. He’d been on his way to the courtyard when he spotted you in the library. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but a familiar voice caught his attention.

“Poor George,” one of the Gryffindor girls said, her voice dripping with mock pity. “He has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.”

“Do you think she’s told him yet? That she’s just using him to make her parents angry?”

Fred frowned, stepping closer.

You were sitting just a few tables away, your back straight, your shoulders tense. It was clear you’d heard them, but you didn’t turn around. You didn’t say a word. Instead, you buried your nose in your book and pretended they didn’t exist.

Fred’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t one to get involved in George’s personal life—it wasn’t his style—but seeing you sit there, clearly hurt and refusing to show it, struck a nerve.

Fred cornered George that evening after dinner.

“Oi,” he said, grabbing his twin by the arm. “We need to talk.”

George raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

Fred didn’t answer right away, pulling him into an empty classroom instead. He shut the door behind them, crossing his arms as he turned to face his brother.

“It’s about Y/n,” Fred said.

George frowned. “What about her?”

“She’s dealing with a load of crap from our so-called friends, and I don’t think you’ve noticed.”

“What?” George asked, his confusion quickly shifting to concern.

“I heard some of them in the library earlier,” Fred said, his tone sharp. “They were saying awful things about her—calling her a user, a manipulator. And she just sat there, George. She didn’t say anything, didn’t react. She just took it.”

George’s face darkened, his fists clenching at his sides. “Why the hell didn’t she tell me?”

Fred sighed, his anger softening into something more understanding. “Because she doesn’t want to cause trouble for you. She probably thinks you’ll feel torn between her and them.”

“That’s not—” George started, then stopped, running a hand through his hair. “That’s not fair to her.”

“No, it’s not,” Fred agreed. “So what are you going to do about it?”

The next day, George waited for you outside the library, leaning casually against the wall as if nothing was wrong. You smiled when you saw him, your heart lifting at the sight of him.

“Hey,” you said softly, stopping in front of him.

“Hey,” he replied, reaching out to take your hand. “Walk with me?”

You nodded, letting him lead you down the corridor. It wasn’t until he steered you toward an empty classroom that you started to feel uneasy.

“George?” you asked, your voice hesitant.

He closed the door behind you, his expression unusually serious. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” you asked, though you already knew what he meant.

“About my friends,” he said. “About the things they’ve been saying.”

You looked away, your throat tightening. “It’s not a big deal,” you said quietly.

“The hell it’s not,” George said, his voice rising slightly before he softened it. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because they’re your friends, George,” you said, finally meeting his eyes. “They’ve been there for you forever. I didn’t want to ruin that.”

“They’re not my friends if they’re treating you like this,” he said firmly. “And they don’t get to insult you and act like it’s okay. None of this is okay.”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. “I didn’t want to cause problems for you.”

George stepped closer, cupping your face in his hands. “You’re not causing problems,” he said softly. “They are. And I’m going to set them straight.”

“George, you don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do,” he interrupted. “Because I love you, and I’m not going to let anyone make you feel like you’re anything less than amazing.”

Your breath caught at his words. “You... what?”

“I love you,” he repeated, his voice steady. “And I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over, and you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. “I love you too,” you whispered, your voice muffled.

George held you tightly, his warmth and reassurance wrapping around you like a shield.

The Gryffindor common room buzzed with its usual energy, students chatting and laughing as they settled into the evening. George stood just inside the entrance, his eyes scanning the room for the familiar faces of the people he once considered his closest friends. His jaw tightened when he spotted them clustered near the fireplace, laughing over something one of them had said.

Fred had offered to back him up, but George insisted on handling it alone. This was personal.

He strode across the room, the crackling firelight casting long shadows as the group fell quiet at the sight of him. The easygoing George they were used to was gone, replaced by someone far more serious.

“Alright,” he said sharply, planting himself in front of them. “We need to talk.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances, but no one spoke.

“I know what you’ve been saying about her,” George continued, his voice low and dangerous. “About my girlfriend. Do you think I wouldn’t find out?”

One of them, a lanky boy named Callum, had the nerve to shrug. “We were just joking, mate. No harm meant.”

“No harm?” George repeated, his voice rising. “You’ve been insulting her behind her back—making her feel like she’s not good enough. How the bloody hell is that ‘no harm’?”

“She’s a Slytherin,” another boy muttered, avoiding George’s fiery gaze. “You know what they’re like.”

George’s fists clenched at his sides. “Don’t you dare generalize her like that,” he snapped. “You don’t know her. She’s smart, she’s kind, and she’s been nothing but patient with you lot while you treat her like dirt.”

“George, calm down,” Callum said nervously.

“No,” George said firmly. “I won’t calm down. She’s my girlfriend, and I love her. If you can’t accept that—if you can’t respect her—you’re not my friends.”

The group fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Some looked ashamed, while others refused to meet his gaze.

“She didn’t even tell me,” George continued, his voice thick with frustration. “She didn’t want to make things harder for me. She sat there and took your crap because she knew how much you all mean to me. And you used that to make her feel unwelcome.”

“George, we didn’t mean—” one of the girls began, but he cut her off with a glare.

“You did,” he said coldly. “And you can take your half-arsed apologies somewhere else because I’m done. If you can’t show her the respect she deserves, then you’ve lost me too.”

He turned on his heel, leaving them in stunned silence as he made his way back to the portrait hole.

Fred was waiting for him just outside, leaning casually against the wall.

“How’d it go?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“They won’t be bothering her again,” George replied, his voice still simmering with anger.

Fred smirked. “Good. About time they got knocked down a peg.”

George shook his head, his expression softening as he thought of you. “I just hate that she felt like she couldn’t tell me.”

“She loves you,” Fred said simply. “She didn’t want to hurt you.”

George nodded, determination settling in his chest. “Well, she doesn’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Thank you for reading!

[jiroufann]

a/n: hey guys it's been a while [plus the parasites in me have started to voice their opinions], so heres another fanfiction! feel free to drop fanfic requests in my asks! I'll do some when i find the time!!

@marypaol here was the george fanfic i was talking about back in may!

george weasley x reader

About You

I know a place it's somewhere I go when I need to remember your face

"No, No, I can't risk losing you again, I won't let you. Just quit it," you sobbed.

"[y/n], look at me."

You looked up from his chest and into his warm brown eyes. Any other witch or wizard unblinded with love would have stared at the gaping hole where his ear would have been.

But, oh, since when were his eyes ever so beautiful? No amount of ghastly scars would distract you from those eyes. Even though the color brown was common to find, they seemed to fit him in such a distinct way. Now, those same eyes were looking at you with a sense of love and regret.

"I have to. We need to protect Harry."

You felt conflicted, as you were anguished with the thought of Harry getting hurt, but more so at the fact you could lose the love of your life in two minutes.

You looked down at the wooden rickety floor. Soon enough, the familiar tinge in your nose indicated that your eyes would quickly fill up with the tears you fought so hard to contain.

Then a rough hand gently touched your cheek and lifted your face up. The tears lost their battle and slipped down your cheek.

George looked at you with that same slightly crooked smile you grew up with.

He wiped your tears with his thumb. "You know that I love you, right?"

You could only nod. You knew, but you felt as though you could never know enough. After all, what were you supposed to do with those words when they turned into nothing but memories of the past?

Some sentences were unforgettable, but the way he gently touched your face, the way he would chuckle slightly as you fixed his tie for him, would these only become a fleeting dream you once saw?

He only patted the back of your head with his other hand. "And you know that I know that you love me, right?"

You tried to fight the same fight against your tears you lost a minute ago, but you lost it again. The tears fell harder and grew into sobs.

"I'll always love you, you know that? I'll always love you, [y/n]."

You looked up at those familiar brown eyes. The question that was at the tip of your tongue already had an answer, but you decided to say it anyway.

"Do you really have to go?" you mumbled.

He only stroked your cheek with his thumb. "You already know the answer to that, [y/n]. Me and Fred need to defend the castle's secret passages from the Death Eaters. It was asked by Kingsley Shacklebolt himself."

"Then why can't I go with you?"

"You're needed, but not at the battlefield, [y/n]. You know that we could save hundreds with your potion-making abilities. Snape said so himself."

You chuckled and ducked your head into his chest again. "You're marching straight into death and you still have the nerve to talk about my awful professor? Cheeky bloke."

He stroked your hair gently. "I can talk smack about any professor I want, it's not like I'll be graduating. Unlike little miss prefect over here."

Your heart throbbed at the nickname. Would there even be a Hogwarts left behind to hold your graduation?

---

You knew that you weren't supposed to.

But sometimes, to love someone was to disregard the danger. To love was to look back, to love was to run to the very place you ran away from, as long as it meant you could see your love for the last time.

So you ran.

Spells and counter-spells were fired from all different directions, illuminating off of the broken lunch tables you used to sit with George at. Pieces of wooden table legs were strewed across the grass. A piece of wood with your initials and George's initials intertwined within a heart fell near your feet. You blinked at it and your nose felt that familiar tinge.

So you ran.

There were dead bodies that rested next to the fountain with mouths that lay gaping. You wrenched your eyes away after catching a glimpse of one of your roommates getting shot by a flash of familiar green light. Memories of pillow fights and late night murmuring about the guys you and her thought were cute flitted across your senses as your eyes started to well up.

So you ran.

You ran until you saw a couple familiar figures in the near distance.

Then air exploded. Dust filled your vision and you saw a glimpse of red hair.

"George?" you whispered.

You sprinted over to him, ignoring the splinters of wood cutting into your arms and face. You held out your wand and continued to run as you murmured spell after spell.

The air exploded again, this time much more violently. The side of the castle blew apart and you screamed out the very first spell you learned in the walls of Hogwarts, now crumbling, as you fell to the ground.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

For a second, all was silent. The only sound that kept your senses intact was heavy breathing and the shots fired in the distance.

On the ground you struggled to keep your arm up, which was aimed at the several pieces of rubble in the air. Right below the rubble was a blurry sight of fiery-red hair. You could barely make out another figure dragging him out of harm's way. You squinted. That was when you realized. It wasn't George you had saved, it was Fred. Where was George? Was he safe? Was he hurt?

Your mind continued to race with questions, but when you saw the figure moved to safety, your arm gave in. Your vision started to dim as your head fell to the ground.

It was black for a while.

".../n]."

"[y/n]"

You stirred. Your vision started to come back to you, along with a throbbing migrane in the back of your skull.

You turned to the side to reach for your wand, and that was when you felt a slight weight on your right hand.

George stirred in his chair, blinking once, then twice.

Your eyes traveled up from the freckled hand that rested on yours. Those same beautiful warm brown eyes were holding yours in worry. The same eyes you fought so hard to look for.

The same eyes you fought so hard to see alive.

"Oh my gosh, you're awake. You're okay. Oh my goodness." He whispered.

You saw a flash of fiery red hair as he lunged forward to catch you in a warm embrace. Your head took its place in the crook of his neck as his hand stroked your hair. A familiar feeling that you could never get enough of.

"How is Fred doing?" You asked.

His gaze softened and he pulled away from the embrace to brush his fingers across your cheek. He took his free hand to clasp one of your hands, interlocking fingers together in a woven embrace.

"He's doing fine. [y/n], if you hadn't stopped the rubble from falling on him, I don't think—I don't think he would have made it out alive," he said, the last part said so quietly that you could barely hear it.

You gazed at him and moved your hand to gently brush his hair behind his ear.

George gave you the same familiar crooked smile when you moved to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"And you? How are you feeling George?"

He smiled. "I've never been better," he murmured. Then he looked up to think for a moment.

"Im absolutely knackered though, yeah."

You giggled. "Me too, c'mere."

He embraced you again, and you felt as though you recovered your missing piece all over again.

"You know that I love you, right?" You murmured under your breath.

"I know."

"And you know that I know that you love me, right?" You whispered softly.

"I know."

"I'll always love you, you know that? I'll always love you, George."

"I'll always love you, [y/n]."

You both fell into a warm peaceful slumber, one without war and rubble.