#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

[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.

[noelan1]

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

[rainydayathogwarts]

reasonless hatred - george weasley x snape!reader

summary: severus snape's daughter causes him nothing but chaos, hatred where love should be in their relationship. but she is finally given a real reason to hate her father, and she decides to give him one to hate her too. wc: 2.6k+

Severus Snape’s daughter was nothing like her father.

For one, she was beautiful. For two, she sucked at potions. But the thing that made people at Hogwarts realise she wasn’t like her father from the very start? She fought with him nearly every potions lesson they’d had since first year.

It wasn’t too bad at the beginning, with little snippy comments here and there. But as the years went on, it was clear you tolerated your father invading your personal space less and less, so your attitude only worsened by the day. It wasn’t as though you were just being a rebellious, moody teenager though. No, it was the fact that Severus Snape was a terrible father. He strolled into the Slytherin common room whenever he pleased, making sure you had completed your homework and had studied for tests. He stared at you relentlessly at meal times, watching as you enjoyed your time with your friends. He kept tabs on your friends in other houses, sneering whenever he saw you around a hufflepuff student, or worse, a Weasley. He was observant, and listened for rumours through the grapevine, aware of any romantic encounters you had.

But what annoyed you the most? He picked on you during lessons.

“Who can tell me the use of a valerian root in the draught of living death?” Snape inhaled deeply, scanning the room. He frowned. You weren’t raising your hand. In fact, you seemed to busy scribbling down notes he had read out five minutes ago. “Ms. Snape.”

Your head shot up from your paper, and some students smiled at the irritated look on your face. They already knew what this would mean; they were about to have front row seats to a Snape v. Snape brawl.

“You couldn’t pick on anyone else!?”

Your father raises his eyebrows, stating monotonously “You didn’t raise your hand.”

“Exactly! Did you not see how many people did!?”

“I want to know if you know the answer.”

You dropped your quill on your desk, sending ink splatters across the page of your notebook. Slowly, you reached over to close the bottle of ink. Taking a deep breath in, you glanced back up at your vexing father. “I don’t.”

“You should. I taught you.”

“Well sorry I fucking forgot!” Laughter rippled across the room, and people looked eagerly to see what Professor Snape would do next, particularly at the sight of you packing your things up. A call of your name caused you to stiffen, eyes widening as you glared at your father. Your desk mate spluttered next to you, surprised that he had dared to use your first name in front of your peers.

“Sit down and make sure to meet me in detention at 4.”

You laughed whole-heartedly, mockingly, your hands folded over your stomach as you doubled over momentarily. “What, to spend more time with you? No thank you.” And with that you strutted out of class, ignoring the near desperate calls of your name. Snape wasn’t able to wrap up the chaos in his classroom after that, so he let his students go, sighing deeply as he wondered how his relationship with you had gone so wrong.

You didn’t speak to your father one on one until the summer holidays rolled around. You met him at the entrance hall of hogwarts, speaking with the weasley twins when he entered the room, summoning you with a single call of your name. You had rolled your eyes and hugged the twins goodbye, making them promise to keep in touch with you over the holidays. They did.

But apparently, you shouldn’t have asked them to make that promise, because after a quick drop off home, Snape was telling you to pack anything from home you might need over the summer, because you were going to be staying somewhere else.

Nº12 Grimmauld Place.

Angry with your father’s lack of notice, you entered the grim mansion with low expectations, but you immediately perked up at the sound of your favourite twins, lost deep within the house's endless rooms. Ditching your luggage at the entrance, your feet immediately took you towards the sound of their voices, stopping at the door of the kitchen, when you finally laid your eyes on them.

“Well it’s about time.” “We thought you’d never make it.”

Your eyes lit up at the sight of the tall twins, and you ignored just about everyone else in the kitchen as you squealed, arms wide open, running straight into the closest one’s arms. George laughed joyously, tightly wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up, just enough to spin you around in a quick circle. You were already dizzy when your feet touched the ground again, but Fred was already slamming into you with a rib-crushing hug.

When you were finally released, you had a stupid grin on your face, and you kindly greeted their mother with that same smile. “Sirius, Tonks, this is y/n, she’s Snape’s daughter. Remus, you’re already familiar.”

“Hiya Professor Lupin.”

Both jaws dropped animatedly as you greeted your old professor. They couldn’t believe it. They had just seen a normal teenage girl run in with the widest of smiles to greet her best friends, only for them to find out her father was the man they had never seen drop the frown from his face?

Snape appeared in the kitchen’s doorway with your luggage by his side, and his usual frown. “Leaving your things lying around is disrespectful.”

“Bloody hell, a girl can’t say hello to someone without being scolded.”

He sighed, turning his attention to Sirius, whose scowl had returned to his face. “Where is she staying?” But before Sirius could speak, you were talking again. “She? Like me alone? Without you?” Though you tried to maintain neutral, there was hope in your tone that couldn’t be denied.

“Alone. I’m going to be working for majority of the time, into the nights as well. Dumbledore insisted it’s not safe for you to be alone.” There was a pang in your chest at his words. Dumbledore cared more about your safety than he did. You nodded. Sirius stood up, having seen the sudden change of look on your face. “I’ll show her up.”

Your father nodded, spinning on his heels and disappearing down the hallway. The front door opened then slammed shut, without so much as a goodbye. Clearing your throat uncomfortably, you looked back at the twins, a smile tugging at your lips again.

It was going to be a good summer.

“We’ll come up with you.” They said in sync, following you and Sirius down the hallway. As you reached the bottom of the staircase, George snatched your luggage from you, instantly lifting it and beginning his trek up the stairs. You hummed, failing to notice the smile on Sirius’s face. “You’ll be in here.” Sirius mumbled, knocking on the door twice. You furrowed your eyebrows, but a familiar voice called out “Come in!” and you weren’t so worried anymore.

Hermione was sat on a large queen bed, her back leaning on the headboard. Ron was sat at the foot of the bed, his head rolled back on the wall. They seemed to be having a hushed conversation. Hermione smiled widely at the sight of you, jumping up from her place on the bed.

“You’re here!”

“I’m sorry, am I the only one who wasn’t aware I was going to be coming?” You asked as you pulled the younger girl into a hug. “It seems that way. Mrs. Weasley told us when we got here.” You hummed, making space for George to roll your luggage into the room. When he did, he swung a lazy arm over your shoulder, tugging you closer to him. “You two can have your privacy, this one’s going to be in our room until the late night hours.” You crinkled your nose at the suggestive but joking way he said it, letting him dragging you out of the room and down the hall.

“Thank you Mr. Sirius!” You called out. Sirius was flabbergasted, and he looked back into the room to the two teenagers he trusted the most in this house. “Do we like her?” Sirius asked in a stage whisper, and both Hermione and Ron nodded in sync.

“We love her. We hate her father. She does too.”

Sirius trusted the words that had come out of Hermione’s mouth, yet he couldn’t bring himself to believe you truly hated your father until he saw it for himself. Luckily for him, it was only the next night when signs of your torn relationship began showing.

You were sat in the kitchen with Fred, George and Sirius, giggling at one of their silly stories whilst you sipped at a cup of tea before bed. You really enjoyed spending time in the kitchen. It seemed to be the most lived in, and Mrs. Weasley had clearly made an impression on it, bringing her homeyness into the otherwise cold mansion. You didn’t mind it though. It had people, which was more than you could say about your own house.

Busy admiring George as he recalled bits of the story, you barely caught the pointed look Fred shot your look of appreciation. You glared at him quickly and Sirius laughed — not because of George’s story. The doorway to the kitchen was suddenly occupied, and you barely caught sight of your father brooding. You stiffened up, looking at him with a blank stare.

“Have you eaten?” You nodded wordlessly to answer his question, noticing how all chatter in the kitchen came to a pause. “Have you started your homework?”

“Homework?” You scoffed in amusement, furrowing your eyebrows at him to say ‘you can’t be serious’.

“You have N.E.W.Ts this year.”

“It’s the first day of summer holiday.”

“Don’t waste your time doing nothing.”

“I’m not planning on it. We’ve decided to go swimming tomorrow.” Sirius nearly chuckled at your sassy tone.

“That’s not what I meant. Focus on your studies.”

“None of my bloody teachers have set me any homework!”

“I have.” You rolled your eyes, mumbling a response under your breath as you turned your gaze to the wooden table. “What was that?” Snape snapped, and your head shot back in his direction.

“I said of course you did! That’s why none of your students like you!”

“Excuse me for wanting my students to pass.”

“Then how come so many of them are failing?” Snape huffed in the doorway, and Sirius saw the way his fingers twitched in annoyance.

“You won’t see me for a couple of days.” It was only when he apparated away that you mumbled “Good”, shoving your chin to rest on your closed fist.

“Is everything okay in here? I heard arguing?” Mrs. Weasley suddenly appeared in the exact spot your father had just disappeared from, a concerned look on your face. “Snape.” You replied in unison with the twins, and Molly wiped her hands down on the skirt of her dress, walking into the kitchen to place her caring hands on your shoulders. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” You nodded, busying yourself by tracing shapes on the dark wood.

Molly hesitated, glancing at her two sons who just shook their heads. She sighed, leaving the room. George swayed to the side, gently pushing you with the force of his body. “Oh, lighten up. Two days without him is great!”

“We will go swimming though, right?” George grinned, hand gripping the bottom of your chair to drag it closer to his. You squealed, throwing your arms up in surprise, but relaxed as his arm settled around your shoulders.

“This behaviour keeps up with his track record.” Sirius muttered, mostly to himself. “What, you mean, just the fact that he’s been a grump all his life?” Sirius shrugged at your question, adding “Well yeah, and there’s the fact that… You know.”

You exchanged looks with the twins, shaking your head. “Nope.” “The war…” Sirius hinted, squinted his eyes. At the blank stares he received, his eyes widened. You didn’t know. About your father being a death-eater. “Never mind.”

“Well, now you’ve got to tell us.”

“I shouldn’t”

“Well you brought it up, so you should.”

Sirius chuckled, your teenage girl stubbornness and logic reminding him of his old school friends. But his amusement didn’t last long. How was he supposed to tell a girl her father worked for Voldemort once upon a time?

“It’s not my place to say.”

“If it’s about my father, I deserve to know.”

He didn’t want to risk Mrs. Weasley being disappointed in him. Oh well. “He used to work for He Who Must Not Be Named. He has the mark.” The sharp intake of breath that came from you was loud, and your eyes widened in shock. “You promise?”

“I prom- I, yeah, I’ve seen it.” You pushed your chair back with a loud scrape, and looked at the ground to avoid having them see the tears gradually filling in your eyes as you put your mug in the sink. Silently, you fled the room, holding in the tears until you slammed the door to your room shut. Sitting on your bed, you sniffled loudly, only accepting the fact that tears were falling down your cheeks when you realised that Hermione wasn’t in the room.

You jumped when the door creaked open, wiping at your eyes frantically, but you softened up when you saw it was only George, an apologetic look on his face. “I’m coming in, you know.” You managed to laugh between sobs, patting the empty space next to you on the bed. George climbed up, opening his arms so you could fall into his chest, trying to ease your breathing. “I can’t believe it.” You admitted to him, not daring to look him in the eyes.

“I know. I’m sorry. Sirius is too. He didn’t mean to upset you.” “I’m glad he told me.” You hiccuped, pulling away to look at George. He was so sweet to you, and he looked so worried about you, concerned for your wellbeing. “I’ll get over it in like five minutes, don’t worry.” George chuckled, watching as you reached for your bed side table to grab a couple of tissues, blowing your nose wetly.

“At least I really have a reason to hate him now.”

“Should probably give him a real reason for him to hate you too.” You giggled at George’s words and moved to sit facing him, criss crossing your legs. “You know,” You started, an idea suddenly forming in your head. “There’s not a single student in our year group he hates to teach more than you and your brother.” “Apart from you.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t exactly kiss myself to spite him.” George straightened up at your words, his face falling into a serious expression. “Just to spite him?”

“Well, there’s other reasons I’d like to kiss you, but I’m using this one as an excuse.” You gasped as George lunged towards you to slam his lips onto yours, but the sound quickly turned into a moan of satisfaction as you gripped the soft cotton of his jumper. George’s lips moulded against yours, moving in a perfect rhythm before they were suddenly pulling away from you to take a panting breath of air.

You swallowed thickly, suddenly standing up. “Give me two minutes, I need to go thank Sirius.” And George sat in amazement as you skipped down the stairs and trudged into the kitchen. Sirius spun around from where he was washing the dishes, going completely still as you threw your arms around him and mumbled a grateful “Thank you.” Before you retraced your steps out of the kitchen and back up to stairs to take as many kisses from George as he would let you.

“What?” Sirius asked, mostly to himself, eyes glued to the doorway you had just walked out from. “Oh, I bet they kissed.”

And kissed you did. At least, until Hermione returned to the room and you had to push the boy off you.

taglist: @ravisinghs-wife, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl, @juliet-017, @fl0weryannie, @tiaajosephin

[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.” 

[browneyedluvr]

GEORGE WEASLEY!

one shots

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an exhibition of muggle dueling by theweasleysredhair

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accidental collateral damage by writesowhatnext

moving staircases by wondernimbus

something gained by panda-noosh

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heart on your sleeve by ickle-ronniekins

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dangerous by ickle-ronniekins

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show and tell by harrysweasleys

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series

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chemistry 2 by ickle-ronniekins

[rose24207]

Roseee’s Masterlist

ℕ𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

𝖦𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾

Mafia - ✪ Angst - ♤ Fluff - ♡ Suggestive - ✰ Dark - 𖣔

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 ♤𖣔

-> 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 ♤𖣔

-> 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 𖣔

-> 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 -

• 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 ✪𖣔♡

-> 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 ✪𖣔♡

-> 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, @hmma3 , @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris, @dr3wstarkey, @hurtblossom, @ernegren, @esposamultifandom, @darleneslane

[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.

[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.

[jijournal]

MY VERY OWN CUPID | G.W

Summary: Valerie Valentine, known as “Hogwarts’ Cupid” for her matchmaking prowess, finds herself heartbroken upon finding out George Weasley, her crush since 4th year, likes Angelina Johnson. This leads her to abandon her romantic endeavors, only to later discover something unexpected.

Word Count: 2.5k+

Warnings: None

A/N: This is my first ever story on tumblr, I really hope you guys enjoy! 🫰

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

Valerie Valentine lived for Valentine's Day. It was in her name, after all.

Ever since she was little, Valentine’s Day had been her favorite holiday—the chocolates, the roses, the handwritten love letters. She adored how, just for a day, everything seemed sweeter, softer, filled with endless possibilities. When she arrived at Hogwarts, she quickly made it her mission to bring that magic to the castle.

It started in her second year when her best friend, Hannah Abbott, had fallen hopelessly in love with Roger Davies.

“I can’t tell him,” Hannah had groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I’ll probably trip over my own feet and embarrass myself for life.”

Valerie, ever the romantic, had taken that as a challenge. With a carefully written anonymous love letter, a bit of strategic maneuvering, and the right nudge at the right time, Roger had ended up asking Hannah to Hogsmeade. By Valentine’s Day, they were sitting at the Hufflepuff table, sharing a box of Honeydukes chocolates.

“You’re amazing at this, Val,” Hannah had gushed. “You should be Hogwarts’ Cupid!”

And just like that, Valerie Valentine became a legend.

⸻

Valerie took on the title of Hogwarts’ Cupid with pride, dedicating herself to helping students find love. Over the years, she orchestrated dozens of successful love stories, each one becoming a fond memory.

One of her most ambitious plans involved a nervous third-year Hufflepuff, Andrew Macmillan, who had a crush on a Ravenclaw named Helena Clearwater. Andrew was a wreck whenever Helena was around, stammering through his words and turning bright red.

“She’s so smart, Val,” he had sighed. “She probably thinks I’m a complete idiot.”

Valerie had an idea.

“Girls love grand gestures,” she told him, handing him a crumpled parchment. “And you know what’s grand? A love song performed by the Hogwarts suits of armor.”

Andrew had stared at her in horror. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am serious.” She smirked. “I also may or may not have bribed the suits of armor to serenade her during lunch.”

Sure enough, the next day, as Helena was walking to the Great Hall, one of the enchanted suits of armor clanked forward, raised its sword like a conductor’s baton, and began to sing.

“O fair Helena, with eyes so bright,

You make my heart take glorious flight!

Oh, would you fancy a date with me?

For Butterbeer and cakes of treacle sweet?”

Andrew looked like he was about to pass out from sheer embarrassment.

But then—Helena laughed. A real, delighted laugh. “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen,” she said, turning to Andrew. “Did you do this?”

He stammered for a moment before nodding.

She smiled. “It’s cute. I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you.”

Valerie cheered from the sidelines. Another successful match.

⸻

By her third year, Valerie had students seeking her out for help. One of them was a shy Gryffindor named Ethan Wood, who had a major crush on Katie Bell.

“She’s so cool,” he groaned. “She’s an amazing Chaser, and she’s funny, and—and she probably doesn’t even know I exist.”

“Well, let’s change that,” Valerie had said.

Knowing Katie loved Chocolate Frogs, Valerie devised a plan. Ethan would send her a Chocolate Frog every morning for a week, each one accompanied by a tiny, anonymous note with a compliment.

The first note: You play Quidditch like a star.

The second: Your laugh is the best sound in the world.

By the time the seventh note arrived, Katie was determined to find out who her secret admirer was. She cornered Valerie at the common room, eyes shining with curiosity.

“You know, don’t you?” she asked.

Valerie grinned. “What would you do if I did?”

“I’d probably want to talk to him.”

So, later that evening, Valerie orchestrated the grand reveal. Ethan, nervous as ever, stood by the fireplace, hands fidgeting at his sides. When Katie walked up to him, Chocolate Frog in hand, she smirked.

“So,” she said, tossing the frog at him playfully. “You’ve been feeding me an unhealthy amount of sugar.”

Ethan stammered. “Uh—uh—sorry?”

Katie laughed. “Don’t be. Want to go to Hogsmeade with me?”

Ethan nearly fainted. Valerie patted herself on the back. Another victory.

⸻

For three years, Valerie had been Hogwarts’ Cupid. She loved it. She lived for it.

"Hogwarts' Cupid" had always been surrounded by love—not just romantic love, but the kind of warmth that came from friendships, from laughter, from the little things that made life feel magical. And yet, nothing had prepared her for the moment she realized she was in love with George Weasley.

She never meant to. It just happened—the way his laughter echoed through the common room, the way he always had a joke up his sleeve, the way his mischievous grin made her stomach flip.

⸻

It happened one evening in her fourth year, during the first snowfall of the winter. The Gryffindor common room was cozy, the fire crackling in the hearth, but Valerie had always been drawn to the magic of fresh snow. So when she saw the first flakes drifting past the castle windows, she slipped outside.

She didn’t expect anyone else to be out there, but of course—George Weasley never did the expected.

“Oi, Valentine,” he called from behind her as she stood in the courtyard, snowflakes catching in her hair. “Fancy meeting you out here. What’s a Cupid like you doing standing alone in the cold?”

She turned to find him grinning, his red hair dusted with snow, his cheeks pink from the chill.

“I could ask you the same thing,” she shot back. “Shouldn’t you be inside, plotting your next great prank?”

George put a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “I do have other interests, you know.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Like this,” he said, before suddenly scooping up a handful of snow and launching it at her.

Valerie shrieked as the snow hit her shoulder. “George!”

“What? Cupid needs to learn how to dodge!” he teased, already gathering more snow.

She didn’t hesitate. She bent down, packed a snowball, and threw it at him with all her might—only for him to duck at the last second. It sailed past him and hit none other than Professor McGonagall’s window.

Both of them froze.

George turned to her, his eyes wide, and then—he grinned. “Run.”

Valerie didn’t need to be told twice. She bolted, George right beside her, the two of them slipping and sliding across the snowy courtyard as laughter bubbled out of them. They only stopped when they reached the covered bridge, breathless and shivering but giddy.

“That was all your fault,” Valerie panted, leaning against the railing.

George smirked. “Oh, definitely yours. I was just an innocent bystander.”

She rolled her eyes, but before she could retort, he reached out, brushing a bit of snow from her hair. It was such a small gesture, but it sent a shiver down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

Their eyes met. And for the first time, standing there in the soft glow of moonlight reflecting off the snow, Valerie saw him differently.

Not just as the prankster. Not just as her friend.

But as someone who made her heart race.

Someone she wanted.

The realization hit her so suddenly that she barely managed to breathe.

George tilted his head, a slow, teasing smile forming on his lips. “You alright there, Val?”

She swallowed, forcing herself to laugh. “Y-Yeah. Just cold.”

“Then we’d better get inside before you freeze,” he said, throwing an arm around her shoulders and steering her back toward the castle.

She barely heard him over the sound of her own heartbeat.

Because that was the moment she knew—

She had fallen for George Weasley.

⸻

By her sixth year, Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts was practically synonymous with Valerie Valentine.

The weeks leading up to the holiday were always the busiest. Students whispered in hallways, love letters passed hands, and Valerie’s name floated through conversations like a spell. As usual, she was in high demand—helping a lovestruck Ravenclaw compose a heartfelt poem, advising a nervous Hufflepuff on how to casually bump into his crush, and sneaking sweets into the Gryffindor common room for a surprise confession plan.

She should have been thrilled.

And yet, for the first time, Valerie felt tired. Something about it felt off this year. Maybe it was because, despite all the magic she created for others, she had never been on the receiving end of it.

Then, just a few days before Valentine’s Day, George Weasley walked up to her.

“Hey, Val,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, looking almost shy. “Got a minute?”

Her heart gave a traitorous little flutter—an automatic reaction at this point.

“Of course,” she said, forcing herself to act normal. “Need help with a prank?"

“Not exactly.” He hesitated, then asked, “Do you know if Angelina’s dating anyone?”

The world seemed to tilt.

The words were a Bludger to the stomach, knocking the breath right out of her.

Angelina. Of course.

She was smart, confident, talented—his best friend. They were already close, always sitting together at meals, always joking and laughing in that effortless way that made Valerie’s heart ache.

And why wouldn’t he like her?

Valerie swallowed the lump in her throat and forced herself to smile. “I—I don’t think so. Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” George said with a shrug, a slight smile plastered on his face. “Just wondering.”

That was all the confirmation she needed.

She barely remembered the rest of the conversation. Somehow, she managed to act normal—laughing at all the right moments, nodding along as if her heart wasn’t shattering into pieces. The moment George walked away, she turned on her heel and fled to her dormitory.

She barely noticed the way her hands trembled as she grabbed the stack of love letters from her desk—the ones she had spent years helping craft, the delicate parchment filled with confessions she had helped others deliver.

With a shaking breath, she threw them into the fireplace.

The flames swallowed them up, turning love into ashes.

Hogwarts’ Cupid was officially retired.

⸻

For the first time in three years, Valerie refused to help anyone with their Valentine’s Day plans.

When a nervous fourth-year approached her in the library with a love letter, she shoved it back at them without a word. When Hannah Abbott asked for advice on which chocolates to get Roger, Valerie snapped, “Does it really matter?”

Hannah folded her arms. “Okay, what is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Valerie muttered, burying herself deeper into her Potions textbook.

Hannah wasn’t convinced. “You love this holiday. It’s your thing.”

“Not anymore.”

Hannah stared at her, then realization dawned on her face. “This is about him, isn’t it?”

Valerie stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hannah sighed. “Val, if you’re upset about something, talk to him. You never just give up.”

But Valerie shook her head. What was the point? George had already made his choice.

So, on Valentine’s Day, while the Great Hall buzzed with excitement, while couples exchanged gifts and friends laughed over ridiculous love notes, Valerie sat in the Gryffindor common room, alone.

She refused to look at the door. She would not let herself wonder if George had asked Angelina out.

Then, just as she was debating whether to go hide in her dormitory for the rest of the night, George plopped down beside her.

“Alright, Valentine,” he said, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. “What’s going on?”

Valerie scowled. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re usually running around playing matchmaker, making sure everyone has a perfect day,” George said, eyeing her closely. “And yet, here you are, sulking like someone just told you Chocolate Frogs were being discontinued.”

She crossed her arms. “Maybe I’m just sick of love stories.”

George blinked, clearly taken aback. “Alright, who are you and what have you done with Valerie Valentine?”

She huffed. “Why do you even care? Shouldn’t you be off with Angelina?”

George frowned. “Angelina?”

Valerie glared at him. “You asked about her.”

George tilted his head. “Yeah…? So?”

“So,” she snapped, “if you’re going to ask her out, just do it already.”

For a moment, George just stared at her. Then, suddenly—

He laughed.

A real, full-bodied laugh.

Valerie gaped. “What’s so funny?!”

George grinned at her like she was the biggest idiot in the world. “Oh, Merlin, you’re thick.”

She scowled. “Excuse me?!”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Val, I asked about Angelina because Fred fancies her. I was helping him.”

The world came to a screeching halt.

Her mouth opened. Closed. Then opened again. “Wait—you don’t like her?”

George smirked. “Of course not. She’s great, but she’s not the one I wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with.”

Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest. “Then… who do you want to spend it with?”

George raised an eyebrow. “Who do you think?”

She froze.

Everything—the endless matchmaking, the stolen glances, the little moments between them—it all suddenly clicked into place.

“You,” he said simply.

Her breath hitched.

For the first time in her life, Valerie Valentine was speechless.

George smirked, tilting his head. “Now, if our former Hogwarts’ Cupid is done sulking, can I take her on a proper date?”

Valerie stared at him, her heart pounding, before a slow, hesitant smile tugged at her lips. “I suppose…” She tapped a finger against her chin, pretending to consider it. “I could make an exception.”

George laughed, reaching out to ruffle her hair. “That’s my girl.”

And just like that, Hogwarts’ Cupid finally found herself caught in the love story she never saw coming.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

masterlist!

[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

🎶 : lost without you - freya ridings

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

[httpvomitello]

Hiii could you do a George x Reader?

Where she's Sirius 's daughter and his family doesn't trust her and stuff because she's still related to people like Bellatrix and Narcissa and George gets into a heated argument with them over it? Something like that please!

Hello, helloooooo! Hope you like it ~ ♡

Blood and Loyalty *⁠.⁠✧

Summary: Being Sirius Black’s daughter meant being judged for the blood that ran through your veins. Despite fighting alongside the Order, the Weasleys still struggled to trust you, haunted by your ties to the Black family name.

george weasley x f!slytherin reader

The Burrow had never felt less like home.

You sat at the long wooden table, feeling the heat of the fire against your back, but it did nothing to thaw the ice settling in your chest.

“She’s still a Black.”

Bill’s words cut through the air like a blade, sharp and cold, and you felt your breath hitch.

The weight of the room pressed down on you as every Weasley in attendance either looked away or studied you with quiet suspicion. The judgment was suffocating, their silence worse than any spell.

It didn’t matter that you had fought alongside them.

It didn’t matter that your father had died for the same cause they claimed to fight for.

To them, you would always be the niece of Bellatrix Lestrange, the cousin of Draco Malfoy, and a member of a bloodline they had been raised to despise.

George sat beside you, his arm stretched protectively along the back of your chair, his grip on the wood tight enough to turn his knuckles white. You could feel the tension radiating off him like a storm ready to break.

“She is not like them,” George said, his voice dangerously calm, the kind of calm that only came before an explosion.

Bill sighed, rubbing his temples. “George, we’re not saying she is,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “But she was raised by—”

“I was raised by Sirius,” you interrupted sharply, your voice shaking with anger. “And he was murdered fighting against Death Eaters. He gave up everything for this war, and you’re sitting here acting like his daughter can’t be trusted?”

Charlie crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “It’s not that simple.”

“Isn’t it?” you shot back, your nails digging into your palms. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks very simple.”

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Look, it’s not like we think you’d—y’know—do anything. It’s just… you’re related to people who would.”

George let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, bloody brilliant, Ron. She’s related to Death Eaters, so she must secretly be one too? That’s your logic?”

Ron scowled. “That’s not what I—”

“Well, it sure as hell sounds like what you’re saying.”

Molly put her hands on her hips. “George, don’t take that tone with your brother.”

George turned to her so fast it was a miracle his neck didn’t snap. “Oh, don’t take that tone?” he repeated mockingly. “Right, because I’m the problem here. Not the fact that you all are sitting around this table accusing my girlfriend—someone I love—of being a bloody traitor just because of her last name!”

Arthur cleared his throat, trying to keep the peace. “No one is accusing her of anything, George, but you have to understand how it looks—”

“How it looks?” George scoffed, his ears burning red with anger. “You lot are the ones who go on and on about how family doesn’t define you, but the second it’s her, suddenly, it’s different?”

Fred, who had been quiet up until now, raised an eyebrow. “I mean… he’s got a point.”

Percy, of course, was unmoved. “We’re in a war, George. We have to be cautious.”

George slammed his fist against the table, making everyone jump. “Oh, bullshit.” His voice was shaking now, barely contained fury spilling over. “You want to talk about family? Fine. Let’s talk about family. Let’s talk about Sirius, who risked his life for years just so you lot could sit here and act holier than thou. Let’s talk about Andromeda, who got disowned for marrying a Muggle-born. Let’s talk about Regulus, who died trying to bring Voldemort down. But no, let’s not talk about that, because that doesn’t fit your little narrative, does it?”

Percy’s jaw tightened. “You’re being emotional—”

“OF COURSE I’M BEING EMOTIONAL, PERCY!” George shouted, pushing back his chair so forcefully it nearly toppled over. “THIS IS HER LIFE YOU’RE SITTING HERE PICKING APART LIKE SHE’S A BLOODY SUSPECT!”

You swallowed hard, throat tight as you looked around the table. The Weasleys—the family you had desperately wanted to be a part of—were staring at you like you were a problem to be solved.

It stung. Merlin, it burned.

George turned to look at you, and the fire in his eyes softened for just a moment. Then, his grip on your hand tightened, and he turned back to his family with the same unwavering conviction.

“I trust her,” he said, his voice quieter but no less powerful. “I love her. And if you actually knew her—if you actually cared to know her—you would too.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Fred was the first to speak. “You do have a bad habit of thinking everyone in Slytherin is evil,” he pointed out to Percy. “Remember when you thought Malfoy was the Heir of Slytherin? Good times.”

Ginny let out a reluctant snort. “Oh yeah. And wasn’t there that time you swore our History of Magic professor was hiding Dark artifacts?”

Percy scowled. “That was a logical suspicion.”

George rolled his eyes. “Right. But my girlfriend is the issue.”

Arthur sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. “No one is saying she’s the issue, George.”

George scoffed. “Sure as hell feels like you are.”

Molly, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke. “We were wrong,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “And I’m sorry, dear,” she added, looking at you. “You’ve been nothing but kind to us, and we should’ve seen that instead of… everything else.”

Arthur nodded in agreement. “George is right. Family doesn’t define who we are. We should’ve given you more credit.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t everything.

But it was a start.

George, however, wasn’t done. “Yeah, well, next time, maybe don’t make my girlfriend feel like a bloody criminal before you get around to realizing that.”

Charlie sighed again. “Duly noted.”

Ron cleared his throat. “So… we’re all good then?”

George huffed. “Not even remotely, but I’ll take what I can get.”

Fred smirked. “Damn, mate, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this whipped.”

George turned to you then, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch so deliberate that it made your heart ache. “Yeah, well,” he said, grinning despite himself, “she’s worth it.”

The tension lingered long after dinner had ended. Though Arthur and Molly had offered their apologies, you could still feel the weight hanging in the air. You weren’t sure if it was all in your head, but every glance in your direction felt like it carried the ghost of doubt.

George had barely left your side since the argument. His hand was either on your back, your shoulder, or intertwined with yours, as if he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go.

You sat curled up in one of the worn armchairs in the Burrow’s living room, staring into the crackling fire. The warm glow danced over the walls, casting shadows that flickered like ghosts. George sat on the floor beside you, his back against the chair, absently playing with your fingers as he watched the flames.

“They’ll come around,” he murmured, breaking the silence.

You sighed. “Will they?”

George turned slightly, looking up at you. “They bloody well better,” he said, a little fire still left in his voice. “I’m not going to spend every holiday listening to them question you when they should be questioning why Percy is still allowed at the table after the Ministry stunt he pulled.”

That made you huff out a laugh. “That’s different.”

“Oh, sure,” he said, nodding sarcastically. “He outright betrays the family, but yeah, let’s grill my girlfriend because her aunt happens to be a psychopath.”

You rested your chin on your knees, your fingers tightening slightly around his. “I just… I get it, George. Even if it hurts. The Black name is cursed in their eyes.”

George shook his head firmly. “Not to me,” he said. “Not to Sirius.”

At the mention of your father, your throat tightened. You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly at the fire. “He’d be so pissed if he saw how they treated me tonight.”

“Oh, furious,” George agreed. “He’d hex Percy’s eyebrows off just for fun.”

That actually made you snort. “And then he’d hex yours, just to be fair.”

George grinned. “Yeah, well, I’d take it as an honor.”

Silence settled between you again, but this time it was warmer, more comfortable. George kept playing with your fingers, tracing patterns on your palm.

Finally, he spoke, voice quieter now. “You are family, you know.”

You looked down at him, his profile bathed in the fire’s glow. “To you?”

He turned fully this time, twisting so he was kneeling in front of you, resting his arms on the armrest of the chair. His eyes were soft but steady, filled with something deep and unwavering. “To me,” he confirmed. “And to Fred. And Ginny. And, well, half of them already admitted they were being stupid, so give it time. They’ll see what I see.”

You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “And what do you see?”

A slow smile crept across his lips, but it wasn’t playful—it was serious. And that was what made your breath catch.

“I see the girl who’s stronger than any of them,” he said. “Who’s spent her whole life proving she’s more than a name. Who fights harder, loves deeper, and makes me feel like the luckiest idiot in the world just for being in the same room as her.”

Your heart hammered against your ribs. “George—”

“I love you,” he said, the words slipping out like they had always been there, like they had always belonged to you.

You sucked in a breath, barely realizing your hands had moved to his face, your thumbs brushing over the freckles on his cheeks.

And then you whispered, “I love you too.”

Before he could say another word, you closed the space between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that left no room for doubt.

George didn’t hesitate. His hands found your waist, pulling you down from the chair and into his lap, arms wrapping around you like he was never letting go.

And maybe, just maybe, he never would.

[tacobacoyeet]

Could I request a fic about George x Muggle!reader? Like she stays and works in the little village near the Burrow. Could either be snippets of them throughout the years having little flirty talks and slowly turns into a George feeling protective/scared for her safety kinda thing. Fluff/smut/angst/maybe happyending? That I'll leave up to you if this isn't too much of a ask!

Absolutely love your work!

flour and flowers | george weasley x reader

a/n: writing a bunch today to distract myself from the day's events. thank you for the request and your kindness! hope you like it :)

warnings: a cross between implied smut and actual smut, mentions of grief, not proofread

The first time George Weasley saw you, you were balancing a tray of teacups in one hand and flicking a disobedient curl out of your eyes with the other. Your fingers moved with the practiced grace of someone who knew how to carry comfort in porcelain. The sunlight caught the edges of your hair and made your smile look warmer than the tea you were serving. You stood outside the village café—chipped pastel paint, a hand-drawn chalkboard sign still smudged with yesterday’s specials, and the smell of something sweet curling through the air like it was trying to lure people inside.

He’d just popped down from the Burrow to run an errand for Molly, not expecting anything more exciting than a loaf of bread and a scolding for forgetting the milk last time. But then he saw you—sunlight on your shoulders, shoes scuffed from too much walking, your laugh spilling out like it belonged in the air.

You didn’t notice him at first. Just another stranger with freckled hands and storm-worn eyes. But when your gazes met—something in your chest fluttered. Like the world paused to see what you’d say first.

He slowed down, just slightly. Told himself it was curiosity.

Told himself a lot of things that day.

You noticed him, of course. Tall, red-haired, freckled all over with that vaguely chaotic glint in his eyes—the kind of man who didn’t exactly blend in. You offered him a smile out of politeness. He blinked like he hadn’t expected it.

“Tea?” you asked, voice light. “Or are you more of a coffee and chaos type?”

He huffed a laugh. “What gave me away?”

You shrugged. “The hair. The grin. The air of impending mischief.”

He took a step closer, nodding toward the tray. “Those for customers or is one of them a peace offering?”

“Depends,” you said. “You planning to stay a while or just here for the bread and doom?”

George smiled. Fully. The kind that showed teeth and softened him around the edges.

“Maybe both,” he said. “But if I’m going to be doomed, might as well be with a cup of something sweet.”

From that moment on, George only ever stopped at one place to pick up bread.

Didn’t matter if the other shop was closer. Or cheaper. Or didn’t make him feel like his chest might cave in every time you smiled at him from behind the counter. He came back anyway.

Sometimes he bought things he didn’t need—an extra croissant, a jar of local jam, a scone you said turned out too flat but still tasted fine. But mostly, he came for the way your voice smoothed out the sharp edges in his head. The way your laughter cut through the fog he still lived in, even years later. Sometimes he didn’t buy anything at all. Just sat out front with a cup of tea and let you talk to him about things that had nothing to do with magic or war or anything that had broken him before. He listened closely. Memorized the shape of your sentences, the way you tapped your fingers when you were excited, the soft hum you made when you stirred your drink. And with every word, every passing moment, something unnamed began to stitch itself back together inside him.

You didn’t know who he was. Not really. And he liked it that way.

Still, there were things you noticed.

He always stood with one shoulder tilted just slightly forward, like he was shielding something—or had once been forced to. There was a soft scar tucked behind the mess of curls on the right side of his head, where one ear should’ve been. You never asked about it.

The air around him always felt... different. Like it held a memory you couldn’t name. Like the warmth of his smile came from somewhere far away, carried on something heavier than it looked.

He laughed with you. Teased you. Rolled his eyes dramatically when you forgot his favorite muffin. But behind every grin, there was a flicker of something else. Grief, maybe. Or guilt. Or the echo of a name he hadn’t spoken out loud in a long time.

He came in more often as the weeks went by. Never said why. Just appeared like the wind—one minute the café was quiet, the next, the bell above the door chimed and there he was with a smirk and a sarcastic comment about your apron.

Sometimes you’d catch him staring out the window with a far-off look, like the village wasn’t quite real to him yet. Like he was still waiting for something—or someone—to tug him back into the storm.

Once, when it rained and no one else came in, you let him linger long after closing. You talked about stupid things: the worst thing you’d ever baked, his distaste for mint in desserts, a goat from the next village over who kept escaping. He laughed, really laughed, and then went quiet, like it surprised him.

Another time, he brought you a flower he swore he didn’t pick on purpose. It was crushed, a little muddy, and stuffed inside a napkin.

“Don’t get used to it,” he said.

But you kept it anyway. Pressed it between the pages of your recipe book. Every time you caught a glimpse of the browned, brittle petals, you smiled. Your fingers would sometimes linger on the page longer than necessary, tracing the soft edges as if they still held the warmth of his hand. It made your stomach twist, in that way beginnings always do—nervous and hopeful and quietly sweet.

The more he came around, the more he softened. Not all at once. Not loudly. But in small, steady ways.

He started fixing things—your sticky back door hinge, the café’s squeaky chalkboard sign, the wobbly stool by the window he always claimed as his. He never asked. Just noticed. Just did. And when you caught him at it, sleeves rolled to the elbows, wand tucked out of sight but clearly used, he’d shrug like it didn’t matter—like it hadn’t taken him an hour and a half to charm the latch back into place just right. Once, you found a small stack of napkins folded to level the back table leg. On one, he’d doodled a tiny magpie.

He started asking things, too. Quietly, like it cost him something. If you’d always lived here. If you ever wanted to leave. If you were scared to be alone at night. What your favorite song was. What your worst day looked like.

You caught him humming once. Under his breath, half-conscious of it. A melody that didn’t belong to the radio or the street—just something he was keeping close. You didn’t say anything. Didn’t want to scare it away. But something about the sound of it—gentle, aimless, half-happy—stayed with you. It echoed in your chest long after he left that evening, like the warmth of it had threaded into your ribs and settled there. You wondered what memory it belonged to. Or if maybe… it had something to do with you.

And slowly, you became part of the way he healed. Not by doing anything big, not by demanding he be different—but just by being there. Being warm. Being constant.

He stopped bracing when you touched his arm. He started remembering how you took your tea. He stayed longer. Looked lighter.

You weren’t magic. Not like him. But you felt like a kind of spell anyway.

---

He realized it on a Tuesday.

He’d been walking down the main lane into town, already half-smiling at the thought of seeing you, maybe teasing you for your questionable muffin-of-the-day choice—when he saw it.

The café was dark.

The lights were off. The chairs inside still up on tables. The chalkboard sign outside had been knocked over, lying face-down in the dirt.

Something in his chest snapped to attention.

He picked up his pace without thinking, scanning the windows, checking for movement. Nothing. No soft music, no scent of baking, no warm hum in the air that usually buzzed with your presence.

Then he heard it—from a passerby at the grocer’s doorstep.

“Shame about the café. Robbed last night, I heard. Poor girl must’ve been scared out of her mind.”

He didn’t hear the rest. Not really.

His hands were already shaking.

Because he didn’t know where you were.

Didn’t know if you’d been hurt. If you’d cried. If you were alone when it happened. If you were still alone now.

And that helpless, breathless ache clawed its way back through him.

Because the last time he’d loved someone enough to fear losing them, he had.

He didn’t think. Didn’t stop. Just moved.

Through the square. Past the post. His boots hit the pavement too hard, his breath shallow, heart thudding loud enough it might as well have been shouting your name.

The baker saw him and called something out—he didn’t hear it.

He rounded the corner toward your flat above the café, his hand already on the railing of the steps before his brain caught up. One breath. Two. Then he knocked.

And when you opened the door, eyes puffy, sweater too big, hair undone from what must’ve been a long and sleepless night—he couldn’t speak.

You blinked at him, then tried to smile. “Hi.”

He swallowed hard. “You’re okay.”

You nodded. “I’m okay.”

And then he was pulling you in, arms wrapped tight around your shoulders, his face buried in your neck like the world had stopped spinning and he needed to feel gravity again.

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t need to.

Not yet.

Inside, the flat is dim—curtains drawn, a half-finished cup of tea gone cold on the table. You close the door behind him, the latch clicking into place like a sigh. Neither of you speaks at first.

He doesn’t let go.

Not until your hands come up to rest on his back, and even then, only enough to pull away and look at you—really look.

“Did they hurt you?” he asks, low. Rough.

You shake your head. “No. Just broke a window. Took the till. Some stock. I wasn’t here.”

Relief floods him so fast it feels like weakness. He sinks onto the edge of your couch, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

You watch him for a moment. Then sit beside him. “George?”

He looks up. His eyes are too bright.

“I—I didn’t know where you were,” he says, and it’s like the words rip something open.

“I thought—God, I thought I was going to lose you, and I didn’t even—”

He stops himself. But his hands find yours. Threaded. Tight.

“I don’t think I can do that again,” he admits. “Lose someone I—”

You squeeze his fingers.

“I'm here,” you whisper.

And this time, when he leans in, it’s not with panic. It’s with promise.

His lips brush yours like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he moves too fast. Gentle. Testing. But once you respond, his restraint slips, just a little—your mouths part, meet again, deeper this time. His fingers knot themselves in your hair, and your hands find the edge of his shirt, anchoring him to you.

The kiss turns hungry in a heartbeat, built from everything unspoken and aching. Your bodies shift closer, knees bumping, breath warm and shared, and when he moans softly into your mouth, it sends a bolt of heat down your spine. You gasp against him, fingers curling at the hem of his shirt, dragging it up, needing more—needing him.

His thumb grazes the underside of your jaw as he pulls back for only a second, eyes searching yours, glazed with want. “Is this going to be okay?” he murmurs.

You’ve wanted him for so long it feels like it’s woven into your blood. Like every soft glance and crooked grin and half-step closer was a stitch, and now you’re coming apart to make room for him. Your body aches for him, not just with need—but with something fuller. Something that feels dangerously close to love.

You don’t hesitate. “Yes.”

And you kiss him like it’s the answer to every question he never dared to ask.

You’re not sure who exhales first, but the sigh between you is shared, warm, heavy with everything you haven’t said aloud.

When he pulls back, it’s barely an inch. His forehead rests against yours. His thumb still moves in slow circles at your side.

“Tell me this isn’t nothing,” he murmurs.

You shake your head, barely breathing. “It’s everything.”

He kisses you again.

Not tentative this time—there’s a hunger to it now, an ache that’s been building under every laugh, every shared cup of tea, every moment you made him feel like someone whole. His fingers slide under the hem of your sweater, slow and reverent, like he’s asking permission. Like he’s afraid if he rushes, it’ll all disappear.

You nod before he even says a word.

That night is soft. You take your time, like the two of you are learning a new language written in breath and bare skin. He kisses the slope of your shoulder, the bend of your knee, murmurs something indecipherable against your stomach that sounds like worship. You drag your fingers through his hair, pull him back to your mouth, feel his weight press into you like he’s trying to be rewritten by your body alone. The rhythm you find together is slow, reverent—like memory, like healing. He touches you like he doesn’t believe he’s allowed.

You let him.

You tell him he is.

And in the morning, the sun paints gold across your floorboards, catching on the curls at the base of his neck where he sleeps, half-tangled in your sheets.

You wake before him. Watch his chest rise and fall, slow and steady, one hand curled loosely beneath his chin. He looks younger in the light—unguarded, almost boyish, like the weight he carries has finally been set down for a while.

Something in your chest swells. You press a kiss to his shoulder, light as air, and whisper his name just to be sure it’s real.

He stirs. Wakes slowly. Stretches. Blinks at you like he’s still dreaming.

“I want to try something,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow. “Try what?”

He doesn’t answer. Just slips out of bed, bare feet padding over wood, and reaches for his wand from where it rests on the windowsill. You sit up, blanket clutched to your chest, watching as he steps into the patch of sunlight by your window.

He closes his eyes. Breathes.

He thinks about the way you looked at him last night. About your hands in his hair. The sound you made when he whispered that you mattered. The way it felt to finally, finally be held without fear.

When he opens his eyes, he lifts the wand and speaks—clear, quiet, certain.

“Expecto Patronum.”

And for the first time since Fred, something silver and stunning bursts from the tip—light and wild and alive.

It takes the shape of a magpie.

He turns to you, eyes glassy, smile trembling.

You don’t say anything. Just reach for him.

And he comes home to you all over again.

-----

tagging: @hanneh69 @jamespotteraliveversion @glennussy

[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

[rainydayathogwarts]

hi, could I ask for a George Weasley x reader fluff with the phrase "god I missed you do much"?

I was thinking that she's in the same year has Ron and it's her sixth year so they don't see each other until se goes to the burrow for Christmast

God I missed you so much - George Weasley

ʀᴀɪɴʏᴅᴀʏᴀᴛʜᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ' 3ᴋ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ!

summary: when you and george have spent the last few months doing long-distance, the reunion is bound to be good. wc: 0.9k+

The chatter all around you was drowned by the sound of your own heartbeat thudding aggressively against your chest. In the midst of your overthinking, your worry had overtaken the excitement you felt. As the train slowed down and the platform came into view, you gulped harshly, keeping an eye out for a tall-haired ginger on the other side of the window. Despite its fogged up state and the falling snow on the other side of the window, you were adamant on finding him. It had been so long since you’d seen George, and you missed his soft touch, joyous smile and comforting words. He was home to you, and being away from him for so long had you fearing things would change between you. 

The train finally skidded to a stop, and your torso jolted forward before your back connected with the seat again. You couldn’t see George anywhere on the platform and despite the windows all being closed, you felt your hands grow cold. Tugging the sleeves of George’s jumper down your hands, you crossed your arms over your chest, leaning closer to the window, eagerly looking for your boyfriend’s awaiting form. Suddenly, reality hit you. Maybe he didn’t come. Maybe the shop was too busy and he couldn’t leave for the afternoon just to meet you. 

A call of your name had you snapping your head back to see your friends looking back at you. Harry, Hermione and Ron had already taken their luggage and were halfway out of the compartment, looking at you expectantly. It was Ron who had called your name, and he was holding your luggage in one of his hands, a soft smile on his face. You stood, taking it from him with a smile and thanking him, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder in a brotherly manner, guiding you out of the compartment. Hey, at least if George ditched you, you could cry about it to Ron later.

You tried not the let the disappointment show on your features when you stepped out onto the snowy platform only to see Mrs. Weasley stood there alone with Ginny by her side. He didn’t come. You trudged closer to the pair of redheads, putting on a happy face as Mrs. Weasley brought you into a tight hug, cold wind harshly hitting your face. You heard Ron huff from next to you, and you shot him an apologetic look, shrugging your shoulders at him, but the truth was you were glad she hugged you when she did. Otherwise, you would have probably burst into tears, and honestly the wind didn’t help with drying your eyes. In fact, it did quite the opposite.

When Mrs. Weasley finally let you go and hugged the other three with just as much passion, she announced your departure to the Burrow, and you nodded, completely missing the knowing smile Ginny couldn’t hide. The apparition was quick and uncomfortable, but you knew you arrived when you were engulfed by warmth. Your eyes snapped open, and you bit your bottom lip, shoving your hands in your pockets as you took in the homey sight of the Burrow.

You swallowed harshly, looking down at your feet when someone hooked their arm through yours. You looked up to see Ginny’s wide smile, and she muttered “Put on a coat or something.” You furrowed your eyebrows, mumbling “What?” “Come on, you’re gonna freeze otherwise.” “Which brings us back to ‘What?’ Why would I go outside?” But Ginny was already ruffling through the bag on your shoulder and pulling out your thick winter jacket. After Ginny helped you put it on, her hand was quickly wrapping around your wrist and tugging you closer to the back door. You huffed at her insistent nature, following up with her fast pace until she finally stopped, making you bump into her broad figure.

Ginny stepped out of the way with a proud smile. One that almost distracted you from the surprise she had left you towards, leaving you with your jaw dropped. George was stood a few meters from the back door, a table for two set up in front of him, lit candles floating around it. George didn’t come, no, but he did something better. Fred was stood on the other side of the table, and he gestured for George to come closer. His brother obeyed, and the pair was silent as Fred straightened George’s collar before patting his chest supportively. Ginny giggled at your silence and rushed to open the door, giving you an encouraging push outside. Two heads snapped in your direction, and Fred was immediately taking the long way around George’s romantic set up to sneak back into the house.

Wordlessly, you approached your boyfriend, who observed your face carefully, watching for any tells of how you felt. You sped up your pace towards George, and a smile finally broke out on his face, making his way towards you with his arms wide open. Throwing yourself into George’s arms, you snaked your hands around his waist, letting him dig his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. 

“God, I missed you so much.” His voice came out muffled, but you laughed joyously nonetheless at the sound of his voice. You pushed George away by the chest until you could finally see his face and your hands were instantly cupping his face and bringing him in for a kiss. George moaned in satisfaction the second your lips connected, pulling you closer to him by his arms around your body. “God,” he repeated “I missed you so much.”

[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.