#george x reader

[rainydayathogwarts]

Into the Woods - George Weasley

Summary: Waking George up to go out for a morning walk at the Burrow has him feeling quite frisky... This is basically straight up smut... 1.1k+ wc

The cool morning breeze had you snuggling deeper into George's side, chills running down your legs as the short sundress you wore did little to help warm you up. George, barely awake and holding back a yawn, welcomes your soft touch, a hand snaking around your waist to subtly pull you closer to him. "Maybe next time I won't wake us up quite so early." You admit, glancing up at your boyfriend, who chuckles at the comment. "I'd usually agree but I'm actually enjoying the privacy. You, me and the sounds of nature." A laugh bubbles in your chest and you jokingly push George away, who stumbles on the grass, gasping out a "You flirt!" despite both of you knowing how much you enjoy it.

When George finds his way back near you, both his hands make their way onto your hips, forcing you to face him. You cock your head to the side with a curious smile, accepting the kiss he leans down for. One of your hands rest on his cheek, though you begin to pull away when you feel his tongue swiping at your bottom lip. "George" You whisper when he chases your lips again, pressing individual pecks on them before trailing kisses on your cheek and down to your jaw. "George!" Lighting pushing his chest away from you, you attempt to separate the boy's lips from the area he begins sucking at on your neck.

His lips separate from your skin with a popping sound, though he doesn't fail to dig his face in the crook of your neck instead, hands on your hips moving to trap your body against his in a loving hug. "What's wrong sweetheart?" He asks, the wind making his ginger hair tickle your cheek slightly. "Georgie what are you doing?" "'M not doing anything." But his hands say otherwise, trailing down to your ass where he begins fondling you. You raise your eyebrows with a small smile on your face, one of your hands coming up to play with his short hair before asking him "Is this because of what happened yesterday?"

At your boyfriend's silence, you let out a small giggle. When you'd been called down for dinner in the middle of a quite intimate moment, you knew George would struggle to sit through the meal, however you hadn't been expecting long lasting effects. "I can give you a quick one if you want." You muttered, yelping when George immediately straightened up, one hand clasping around yours to drag you behind the trunk of a thick tree. George didn't hesitate to press his body against yours, a hand quickly making its way under your dress to pull your panties down to your ankles as he began kissing your jaw again.

"George! I meant like, like a handjob or something!" You whisper yelled, actions contradicting your words as you laced a hand in his hair, pulling him towards your lips to kiss you properly. He willingly obliged, this time gaining access to your mouth as he twined his tongue against yours in a messy kiss. Pulling away with a pant, George mumbled "Fuck, turn around for me sweetheart." You obeyed, spinning around and bending over just enough for your butt to stick out. Putting both hands on the tree trunk for support, you listened closely to the sound of George unzipping his trousers. He guided his cock between your thighs, wetting himself with your juices before spreading them down on his cock.

Clumsily, George probed two of his fingers near your entrance, whispering in your ear "Just want to prepare you for me baby." before sinking them into you. You whined at the intrusion, eyes widening at your own sound before remembering where you were. "George... Georgie, how close are we to the Burrow?" Your hips rocked back and forth with your boyfriend's fingers, looking over your shoulder to see him peering around the tree trunk. "Far enough."

You didn't even notice him taking his fingers out until he began pushing his dick into you instead, emitting a gasp from you as you gripped the wood in front of you. You heard George curse deeply, hands regaining position on your hips as he began to thrust into you at an increasing pace. Your chest hit the rough trunk in front of you with every powerful thrust, and you were squeezing your thighs together for more friction, the mix pain drowning you in pleasure. George leaned in closer to you, lips latching onto your neck to aggressively suck hickeys that would be impossible to hide in this dress. His hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you back onto his dick with every thrust of his pelvis to hit your core at an angle that brought you too close to your orgasm too quickly.

Warning George of your approaching orgasm with a moan, you let him grab the nape of your neck, using the momentum to pull your torso off the tree trunk and up against his chest. He trailed that same hand down the front of your body, sneaking under the skirt of your dress, he cupped your pussy, thumb delving between your folds to put pressure on your clit. "Fuck, George!" You moaned, shutting your eyes tightly and throwing your head back on his chest, hands latching onto the thick denim of his trousers as your orgasm overtook your body, thighs beginning to shake slightly. "Yeah, that's it baby." You heard George mutter, hitting you with harsher thrusts that only increased the duration of your orgasm as he reached his high too, abs flexing with effort as he quickly pulls out of your cunt, aiming his cum away from you.

A hand still rests on your hip as George continues pumping his cock, milking out his cum with loud pants to catch his breath. You mimic his breathing, both hands now resting on your waist as you wait for your legs to stop shaking. George recovers before you, tucking himself back in his trousers and leaning down to pull your underwear up your legs. When he finishes, he wraps his arms around your front, pulling you back against his chest to press loving kisses against your forehead. "We have to check that one off the list." He whispers against your forehead, prompting you to spin in his arms, tugging the bottom of his shirt and pressing yourself on your tippy toes to steal a couple of real kisses from him. "Oh so that's why you did this? A bucket list?"

George shakes his head, making direct eye contact with you, a wide smile on his face as he confessed "No, I was just really horny."

[hirayalore]

it was a no-brainer that GEORGE WEASLEY got it from his father.

you saw it in his eyes—the manner in which they sparkled with so much curiosity whenever muggles were the topic of conversation, hundreds of questions always falling out of his mouth before he could restrain himself. 

it was endearing to witness him be so interested in things that you considered ordinary (which truly, they were), the questions always stemming from his genuine wonder of how muggles were able to live without magic, how they managed to accomplish tasks without spells, how certain devices worked without being charmed, how people went from one place to another without the help of floo powder or knowing how to apparate…

and having lived in a muggle home yourself for as long as you remember, it was one of the many things that you and george have talked about throughout your relationship, with you being more than happy to indulge him with his fascination with the non-magic folk in every opportunity that presented itself.

hence, when winter break came and your parents invited him to spend the holidays at your place, you knew that you had to take this chance to formally introduce him to the world that he has been oh-so-interested about.

“how are they doing this?” george mumbled beside you in complete awe, gesturing at the huge screen they had in the cinema.

you grinned and leaned closer to his side, the scent of his cologne and butter popcorn filling your nose. “they film it with a camera, and then edit it until it becomes one long video. a movie, as it’s called.”

“a movie.” he repeated, not hiding how impressed he was based on his tone. “and this camera you say, it’s not magic?”

“nope.”

“then how can it make the pictures move?”

“well, they’re not exactly pictures, love. they’re videos. or clips. i don’t know. there wasn’t exactly a class about this that i could attend.” you joked.

he laughed and looked at you. “well, whatever it is, it’s bloody brilliant. it amazes me how muggles can make pictures move without magic—and even make them have sounds! it’s truly fascinating. even magic hasn’t done that. unless you count a howler, of course.”

you gave him a fond grin, pleased that your mission to enlighten him with another thing from your world seemed successful based on his eager expression and the manner in which he was now focusing back on the movie.

as he did that, you couldn’t help but focus on him instead, your gaze glued to his face like he was the one you paid for to see in this dimly lit cinema. you admired the freckles that littered his skin, the slight smile he was showcasing, and his red hair that was neatly trimmed yet still had this effortless tousled look that tempted you very much to run your fingers in.

“hey, love,” you whispered abruptly, leaning closer to him.

george barely spared you a glance. “hm?”

“do you know what muggles usually do in muggle cinemas?”

at that, his attention is reverted back to you. “no.”

“it’s a tradition at this point, really.”

“yeah?” the innocence in his expression made you smirk. “what is it?”

without missing a beat, you gently pulled him by the neck and kissed him.

it started out just a peck, your lips pressing on his, and for a moment, george was sitting still, perhaps trying to read what was on your mind to prompt you to kiss him all of the sudden. but then you felt the curve of his grin against your mouth, and before you could blink, he angled his head, deepening the kiss with ease that told you he now understood what your intentions were.

you sighed, planting a few more soft kisses on his mouth and then deciding to pull back, seeing george look at you with a mixture of amazement and doubt.

“you just made that up, didn’t you?” he teasingly accused you. “are you telling me muggles consider it a tradition to kiss in cinemas?”

you tried to make your laughter as quiet as possible. “i’m being honest. and for the record, it’s not kissing that’s tradition per say—it’s much bolder than that. i was just being considerate and going easy on you.” you joked.

at your statement, you could practically see the shift in his expression, the confusion melting into sudden realization, as if the pieces of a puzzle had finally clicked into place.

slowly, an all knowing mischievous smirk appeared on his mouth, and this time, he was the one who was scooting closer to you, the gap between your faces thinner.

“well, in that case,” his nose brushed against yours, his voice dropping an octave, “who am i to deny a perfectly good muggle tradition?”

you didn’t even have the chance to laugh again, for george was already back kissing you, abandoning the movie and turning his full attention to you—no longer interested in the film now that he had you trapped in his arms, his lips eager and demanding as if he had no intention of stopping anytime soon.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[urfavdreamcatcher]

hey cutie pie !! ive literally been obsessed with ur writing and re-reading ur george clarke fic 🤭. i was wondering if u could make a george clarke fic about reader being highschool sweethearts with him ( i dont know where id want it to go its completely up to you, ive just seen soso many photos of younger george in school and hes so cutesy and yum ) anyway bye bye xx

Sweetheart || George Clarke.

Part 1

Ur honestly so cute, I need to start re-reading my drafts and publishing them.. currently have inside ep 1,2 in my drafts rn😩 BUT THANK YOU CUTIE!! Hope you like this 😊

Summary: She’s the school’s star cheerleader, and he’s the cocky rugby player who drives her up the wall. They’ve been at each other’s throats for as long as they can remember petty arguments, competitive banter, stolen glances that last too long.

But when Charlie, one of George’s teammates, starts flirting a little too shamelessly, the rivalry between them shifts into something sharper, more personal. Because George hates it—hates the way Charlie talks about her, the way he looks at her.

And one day, he snaps.

George x reader, fem!reader , explicit language

There most definitely will be a part 2 to this!!

ENJOY!!

———————————————————————-

If there was one person in the entire school who could ruin my day in under five seconds, it was George Clarkey.

And unfortunately, he seemed to be everywhere.

“You’re glaring again,” my best friend, Liv, pointed out, nudging me with her elbow.

I tore my eyes away from the rugby pitch, where George was currently jogging back to his position, annoyingly smug even while covered in mud. His school rugby shirt was practically clinging to him, damp from the drizzle, and his curls were messy from where he kept ruffling them.

Not that I noticed. Obviously.

“I’m not glaring,” I said, flipping my ponytail over my shoulder. “I’m just… observing.”

Liv snorted. “Right. Observing how fit he looks?”

I turned to her, horrified. “Absolutely not. He’s—ugh insufferable. Cocky, irritating, never stops talking. Did I mention cocky?”

“Only about a hundred times.”

And, as if on cue, George spotted me from across the field. A slow smirk spread across his face, like he knew he was annoying me just by existing.

He jogged a bit closer and called out, loud enough for everyone to hear, “You here to support me, sweetheart?”

I clenched my jaw, ignoring the way my stomach flipped at that ridiculous nickname.

“Please,” I shot back, hands on my hips. “If I wanted to watch someone roll around in the mud, I’d get a dog.”

His teammates howled with laughter, clapping him on the back. But George? He just grinned, jogging backwards like he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“You’re obsessed with me, admit it!”

“In your dreams, Clarkey!”

The thing about George was that he thrived on winding me up. Which meant I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that, no matter how annoying he was..he also made my heart race in a way that I hated.

George and I had been at each other’s throats since Year 9. It started when he made a very loud, very wrong comment about how cheerleading wasn’t a real sport. I may have responded by stealing his boots before a big match. He retaliated by swapping my water bottle with vinegar during training.

From there, it spiralled. Pranks, insults, who can annoy the other the most. It was our thing.

So when we walked into history the next day and the teacher started reading out partner assignments for our coursework, I wasn’t worried. There was no way she’d put me with George. She knew we were a disaster waiting to happen.

But then—

“George Clarkey and [ ].”

The entire room went silent.

Someone actually gasped.

I blinked. “You’re joking.”

George, sitting two seats away, let out a low whistle. “Ooh. That’s unfortunate for you, sweetheart.”

The teacher ignored both of us. “You’ll be working together on this project for the next few weeks, so I suggest you figure out a way to get along.”

I turned to George, who was already watching me with that bloody smirk. “You better actually do work,” I muttered as I slid into the seat next to him.

He leaned in slightly, voice low enough that only I could hear. “What, scared to spend time with me?”

My breath hitched annoyingly but I masked it with an unimpressed look. “Scared you’ll get shown up by me, more like.”

His grin deepened, all challenge and amusement. “This is gonna be fun.”

I had a horrible feeling he was right.

———————————————————————

I hated being partnered with George. I really did.

But if there was one small silver lining to this absolute disaster of a situation, it was that his best mate, Charlie, was actually a decent person.

Charlie was in my maths class, and we’d always gotten along well enough. Unlike George, he wasn’t constantly winding me up or trying to make my life miserable. And, unlike George, he didn’t seem to think cheerleading was a joke.

“You’re well unlucky,” Charlie said with a sympathetic smile as we walked out of class together. “Being stuck with Clarkey, I mean. Absolute nightmare, that one.”

I snorted. “Tell me about it.”

He grinned. “If you need someone to rant to, I’m happy to volunteer.”

And then, before I could even respond, George appeared out of nowhere, stepping right between us like some sort of human barricade.

“Alright, mate?” George clapped Charlie on the back a bit too hard. “Didn’t know you were trying to steal my project partner.”

Charlie laughed, glancing at me. “She’s your problem now, not mine.”

George turned to me, eyebrows raised. “That true, sweetheart? You going round complaining about me already?”

I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t have to. Everyone already knows you’re unbearable.”

He smirked. “And yet, here you are, walking with my mate. What, trying to get closer to me through him?”

Charlie shot him a look. “Don’t be a nob, Clarkey.”

George laughed like he wasn’t being completely insufferable, but something flickered in his expression something I couldn’t quite place.

I ignored it. Instead, I turned to Charlie and smiled. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

His face lit up in a way that made something twist in my stomach.

I wasn’t oblivious I’d noticed the way Charlie looked at me lately. The way he found excuses to talk to me, to sit next to me in class. And, if I was honest, I liked the attention.

It wasn’t like that but it was nice. Unlike George, who lived to annoy me, Charlie was easy to talk to.

Apparently, George hated that.

Because as soon as Charlie walked off, he let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his damp curls. “Fucking hell. If I have to watch him flirt with you for the next few weeks, I might actually lose my mind.”

I crossed my arms, tilting my head. “What’s your problem?”

He scoffed. “Charlie never shuts up about you. It’s pathetic.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you can flirt with half the school, but the second someone likes me, it’s a problem?”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t flirt with everyone.”

I let out a humourless laugh. “Right. You just call everyone ‘sweetheart’ and wink at anything that moves.”

George’s smirk twitched slightly, but there was something else behind it now, something a little more serious.

“You jealous, love?” His voice was lower now, teasing, but not in his usual careless way.

I stared at him. “Of what?”

He stepped closer. Not enough to be obvious, not enough to draw attention, but enough. Enough that I caught the scent of his aftershave, enough that my pulse betrayed me completely.

“Of them,” he murmured. “The girls I flirt with.”

I refused to let him get to me. Refused to let him know that my brain was currently short circuiting from the way he was looking at me.

So I forced a smirk, tilting my head up defiantly. “Not even a little bit.”

Lie. Massive, massive lie.

But George just hummed, stepping back with a knowing glint in his eyes. “If you say so, sweetheart.”

And then he was walking off, leaving me standing there, heart hammering, absolutely furious that he could still get under my skin like that.

But come to think of it, I wasn’t encouraging Charlie. Not really.

But I also wasn’t stopping him.

Because, if nothing else, watching George Clarkey’s jaw clench every time Charlie spoke to me was quickly becoming one of my new favourite things.

“Here, let me carry that for you,” Charlie offered, reaching for my books as we walked out of the library.

I raised an eyebrow. “I can carry my own books, you know.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I’m trying to be chivalrous.”

I rolled my eyes but let him take them anyway. “What a gentleman.”

Charlie was easy to be around. He was funny, charming, and unlike George he didn’t actively make it his mission to wind me up constantly.

Which is exactly why I shouldn’t have been even remotely surprised when George appeared out of nowhere, stepping directly between us like a human roadblock.

“Oi, Charlie,” he said, completely ignoring me. “Didn’t know you’d started a new career as a personal assistant.”

Charlie let out a short laugh. “It’s called being nice, Clarkey. You should try it sometime.”

George’s gaze snapped to me, sharp and unreadable. “Think she can manage carrying her own books, though.”

Charlie shrugged. “Yeah, but I offered.”

George let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck like he was physically restraining himself from saying something stupid. Which was rare for him, considering he never shut up.

“Whatever,” he muttered, finally turning to me. “You ready for this project thing or what?”

I gave him a look. “You mean the thing you were ten minutes late for?”

He smirked. “Took my time. Knew you’d still be here flirting with Charlie, anyway.”

I scoffed, ignoring the way my face betrayed me completely by heating up. “I was not—”

“Anyway,” Charlie cut in, clearing his throat. He handed my books back, giving me a quick smile. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

I nodded. “Yeah, see you.”

The second he was gone, George let out a short, irritated breath.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath. “You really like entertaining him, don’t you?”

I turned to him, crossing my arms. “And what exactly is your problem with that?”

He scoffed. “No problem.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Right. That’s why you keep glaring at him like he’s personally offended you.”

George rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “He’s just—” He paused, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

But now I was curious. I stepped forward, tilting my head. “He’s just what?”

George exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath before meeting my gaze again. “He’s a mate, alright? And I know for a fact that if he actually asked you out, it wouldn’t just be some little flirt for him.”

I frowned. “And what if he did ask me out?”

George went completely still.

I almost laughed at the look on his face like the thought had genuinely never occurred to him before. Like he hadn’t actually considered the possibility that I might actually say yes.

Then his jaw tensed.

“You wouldn’t,” he said simply.

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And why’s that?”

George met my gaze, something unreadable flickering behind his usual cocky, irritating expression.

Then he smirked, leaning in slightly just enough to make my breath hitch.

“Because,” he murmured, “you’d get bored of him in about a week.”

My stomach flipped. Stupid. So stupid.

I straightened my shoulders, forcing a scoff. “And you think I wouldn’t get bored of you?”

George’s smirk deepened, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down my spine.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said smoothly. “You’d never get bored of me.”

My heart was pounding now, and I hated him for it. Hated the way he could do this push my buttons, wind me up, and still make my stomach do stupid, ridiculous flips all at once.

So I forced a smile. A sweet, fake, infuriatingly polite smile.

“Watch me.”

Then I turned and walked off, knowing full well that George Clarkey was still watching me the entire way.

And, if I wasn’t completely losing my mind, I think I just made things even worse.

——————————————————————

At first, it was just light teasing compliments here, cheeky comments there. And I didn’t mind it. In fact, I enjoyed it. Not because I fancied him, but because of the way George absolutely lost his mind every time Charlie so much as looked at me.

But lately, it had shifted.

Charlie had started getting… bolder. The lingering touches, the low murmurs when no one else was listening. And while I’d brushed it off at first, something about it felt off.

I just hadn’t realised how off until I overheard exactly what he was saying about me.

The changing room was loud with the usual post-training banter—laughter, the sound of boots being tossed aside, the occasional thud of someone slamming a locker shut. Charlie was in the middle of a story, half-dressed, stretching out his sore muscles.

Then her name came up.

A few heads turned, but no one stopped him. Charlie had been talking about her a lot lately—more than usual. Flirting with her in the corridors, finding excuses to be around her. But today, there was a different edge to his words.

A low chuckle. “Mate, I swear, the things I’d do to her…”

George stilled.

“Bet she’s a little tease in private, all attitude in public but proper desperate behind closed doors.”

Someone snorted. Someone else muttered, “Behave, mate.” But no one stopped him.

“I’d have her screaming my name by the end of the night.”

The sound of boots hitting the floor, a sharp inhale—then a sudden, violent slam.

Charlie’s back hit the lockers with a heavy thud.

The room went silent.

George stood in front of him, fists clenched, jaw tight, eyes burning with something dangerous.

“Shut your f**king mouth, Charlie.”

A stunned pause. Then, Charlie let out a short, breathless laugh. “The f**k, Clarkey?”

George didn’t move. Didn’t blink. “Say that again. I f**king dare you.”

Charlie’s smirk flickered, like he couldn’t decide whether to be pissed off or amused. “Oh, come on. It’s just banter.”

“Banter?” The word came out slow, sharp.

Charlie scoffed. “Don’t tell me you care. It’s not like she’s yours.”

The tension in the room snapped, thick enough to choke on.

Every muscle in George’s body was drawn tight, like he was barely holding himself back. A challenge hung in the air, unspoken but blistering.

Then, movement in the doorway.

Her voice.

“George?”

Everything stopped.

Heads turned. A few of the boys suddenly found something very interesting about their boots.

She stood in the entrance, eyes locked on George, gaze flicking between him and Charlie. Something shifted in her expression—realisation, understanding.

And then, without a word, she walked past Charlie like he wasn’t even there.

Straight to George.

Fingers wrapped around his wrist. A small but deliberate touch.

No one spoke.

Charlie let out a breath, muttering something under his breath, but no one laughed this time.

A moment passed.

Then she tugged George towards the door, and he let her.

The second they were gone, the silence broke.

“Mate, what the f**k was that?” someone muttered.

No one had an answer. But everyone knew. Something had just changed.

The walk from the changing room was silent.

She hadn’t let go of his wrist. Not until they were outside, away from the laughter, the echo of boots against the floor, the lingering weight of what just happened.

When she finally did, George exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp curls. His whole body was still wired with anger, every muscle tense.

She watched him carefully, arms crossed. “What the hell was that?”

George let out a sharp, humourless laugh, looking away. “You heard what that dickhead was saying.”

“Yeah, I did,” she shot back. “But why do you care so much?”

That question hit him like a punch to the gut.

His jaw clenched. “Are you fucking serious?”

She stepped closer, voice low. “Yes, George. I’m serious. You’ve been acting like a complete lunatic every time Charlie so much as looks at me. And now you’re starting fights in the changing room? What is your problem?”

George scoffed, shaking his head. “My problem? My problem is that he talks about you like you’re some fucking thing to win.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t look away.

George huffed out another breath, stepping back. “Forget it. You clearly don’t care.”

A beat of silence. Then..

“You think I don’t care?”

Her voice was quiet, but something in it made him pause.

He turned back, and—fuck

She wasn’t just angry. She was hurt.

Something twisted in his chest, hard and sudden.

She shook her head, looking at him like she was finally seeing it. “You don’t get to stand there and act like you’re the only one who’s pissed off, George. You think I liked hearing him say that? You think I liked knowing you were about to..” She stopped herself, inhaling sharply. “I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”

George let out a slow breath, dragging a hand over his face. “I wasn’t—” He stopped. Swallowed. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No shit,” she muttered.

For a second, neither of them spoke.

A gust of wind blew past, the only sound between them. The usual noise of the school a distant shout from the pitch, the sound of doors slamming felt muffled, like they were in their own space, locked in this moment neither of them knew how to get out of.

George exhaled. “Look.” His voice came out quieter than before, rough around the edges. “I just” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

She hated when he did that started a sentence, then shut it down like it didn’t matter.

So she stepped forward, forcing him to meet her eyes. “Say it.”

His jaw ticked. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Say it, George.”

And that was it. That was the breaking point.

Because before he could stop himself, the words spilled out, raw and reckless

“Of course it fucking matters!”

Her breath caught.

George shoved a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I hate it. I hate watching him flirt with you. I hate the way he talks about you. I hate” He stopped, shaking his head. “I hate that you don’t fucking see it.”

Silence.

Her voice was barely a whisper. “See what?”

George let out a harsh laugh, bitter and frustrated, because seriously?

He stepped closer. Not like before not teasing, not playful. This was something different. Something that made the air between them feel thick, heavy, electric.

“Jesus Christ.” His voice was lower now, rough. “You, sweetheart. You think I’ve been acting like this for fun? You think I don’t care?” His breath was uneven, and he hated it. Hated that she could do this to him. “I care too fucking much, and it’s ruining me.”

The words hung there, unshakable.

She didn’t move. Didn’t say a word.

Then slowly, carefully she reached for his wrist.

Soft, hesitant.

And George who was always so loud, so sure, so quick with a comeback went completely, utterly still.

Something in his chest tightened.

Her fingers curled slightly, just enough to keep him there. Not pulling, not pushing. Just holding on.

And George?

George let her.

Because he was done fighting it.

The weight of George’s words still hung in the air, thick and impossible to ignore.

“I care too fucking much, and it’s ruining me.”

She hadn’t moved. Hadn’t spoken. Just stood there, fingers still wrapped around his wrist soft, hesitant, deliberate.

George didn’t breathe. Didn’t dare.

Because if he did, if he let himself feel this properly, he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop.

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and it was too much the way her gaze softened, the way she was holding onto him like she finally understood.

“George,” she said, voice quieter now, like the fight had drained out of her.

And it wrecked him.

Because he’d spent so long pretending acting like none of this mattered, like she wasn’t under his skin in ways that no one else had ever been.

But now?

Now she was so close.

And he couldn’t pretend anymore.

His free hand lifted without thinking, fingers brushing against her jaw, tentative, testing giving her a chance to pull away.

She didn’t.

If anything, she leaned into it.

Something inside him snapped.

Before either of them could talk themselves out of it, he tilted his head and closed the space between them, pressing his lips against hers.

Soft at first hesitant, searching but then she made a small, breathless sound against his mouth, and it sent something crashing through him.

His hands moved, gripping her waist, pulling her closer, like he was making up for every second he’d wasted pushing her away.

She kissed him back like she’d been waiting for this just as long, fingers twisting in his hoodie, holding him there, like she needed this too.

And God, he was gone for her. Completely, helplessly gone.

When they finally pulled apart, their breathing was uneven, faces still close.

Her fingers were still curled into his hoodie. His hands were still on her waist.

And George who had always been so cocky, so sure of himself could barely get his voice to work.

“Sweetheart…” His forehead rested against hers, voice rough, breathless. “Tell me I haven’t just completely fucked this up.”

A small, mischievous smile tugged at her lips.

“You think I’d kiss you like that if you had?”

George huffed out a laugh, shaking his head, thumb tracing absent circles on her hip.

“You’re a tease,” he murmured.

She grinned. “And you love it.”

He did.

And for once, he wasn’t afraid to admit it.

[tammyjackson50-blog]

No so secret anymore || G.C

George x reader

<- 2/2

Summary: You and George have been dating for a few months, but you weren't as careful as you thought, and fans started to suspect, and your friends weren't helping either...

(There are a little steamy moments here and there. )

___________________________

George’s grin widened, clearly enjoying teasing you. He propped himself up on one elbow, glancing down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know” he started casually, as if it wasn’t the biggest bombshell he could drop, “I don’t really care if we share our relationship with the fans right now.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him in surprise. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, why not? It’s not like we’re doing anything crazy. I was thinking, maybe we should just post a photo dump of us, y’know, keep it chill. Like a little behind the scenes of us being a normal couple.

You sat up a little, your hesitation clear. “I don’t know, George... I mean, what if some of the fans hate me for it?” You laughed nervously.

He chuckled, his tone softening as he reached out to take your hand. “Trust me, love. If they’re real fans, they’re gonna be happy for us. Besides, there’s always gonna be a few people who don’t like something. But who cares?”

You hesitated for a moment, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "I guess you're right..."

He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “And if anyone does get weird about it, we’ll just delete their comments or just ignore it”

You thought about it for a second. You had to admit, the idea of just sharing your relationship felt... nice, even if it meant dealing with a few haters. You looked at him, “Alright. Maybe a little photo dump wouldn’t be so bad after all.”

George grinned widely, leaning in for a quick kiss. “That’s my girl.” He pulled back, clearly proud of himself.

You laughed, feeling a bit more at ease now. “Okay, okay. But if anyone comes for me, I’m blaming you.”

“Fair enough,” he said, already pulling his phone out of his pocket.

You both flopped back onto the bed, now lying on your elbows next to each other.

George unlocked his phone, and you leaned over, curious about what photos he’d picked.

“Alright, love,” he said with a cheeky grin, scrolling through his gallery. “Let’s see your reaction to this one.”

He swiped to a picture, holding it out for you to see. It was a candid shot of you, clearly half-asleep, your hair a mess, and your eyes barely open. But what made your cheeks instantly flush was the fact that the angle caught you in just the right way your shirt had shifted, and your cleavage was visible.

You let out a small laugh, swatting the phone away. “Hey, come on! Can you pick a much uglier picture of me?"

George’s grin only grew wider. “Mate, you look hot, don’t even try to deny it.”

You turned to face him, pretending to be offended. “If you’re showing that, I’m showing something back.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. “Oh? I’m all for it.”

With a smirk, you grabbed your phone quickly and scrolled through your photos.

You found one, just the right amount of steamy, and turned the screen towards him. It was a picture you’d taken of him during one of your late night hangouts, he looks like he just woke up, his hair is messy, his shirt slightly pulled up, the light catching his body in a way that made him look...well, ridiculously good.

You leaned back, watching his reaction as he took in the photo. His eyes flickered with something more intense than amusement, and for a brief moment, his smile faltered.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “You know what? I think I’m getting a little too into this game.”

You laughed, enjoying the playful teasing. “Yeah? Maybe I should just show you the one that I took when we were on a vacation last y-

“Oh, that’s a dangerous move, love.” George raised his eyebrows, clearly intrigued. “You’re trying to make me lose my mind now.”

You both chuckled, but there was an undeniable shift in the energy. Something about these pictures, these little moments of teasing, made everything feel... charged?

George leaned in just slightly, his eyes flickering between your face and the phone still in your hand. The corner of his lips tugged up, but there was something behind his usual cocky grin something darker, something knowing.

"Alright, if we’re playing that game,” he murmured, swiping on his phone again, “let’s see how bold you really are.”

He turned the screen toward you, and your stomach did a little flip. It was a picture one you didn’t even realize he’d taken.

You, sprawled across his bed, barely covered by the sheets, one strap of your top slipped off your shoulder. The angle made it look more suggestive than it actually was, but it was still enough to make your breath hitch.

Your eyes snapped to him. “George—”

He bit his lip to hold back a laugh, clearly loving your reaction. “What?” he said, feigning innocence. “It’s a great picture.”

You scoffed, grabbing his phone and flipping through his camera roll. “You’re actually insane. How many of these do you—”

And then you saw it. Another photo. This one? Much worse.

It wasn’t explicit, but it was borderline scandalous. You are on top of him, mid movement, your hand braced on his chest, his fingers gripping your waist. The lighting was dim, and it was slightly blurred like it was taken by accident, but the implication was there. Your mouth fell open.

“GEORGE!”

He was already laughing, head thrown back. "Nah, nah, that one’s art, babe"

You turned to him, half shocked, half amused. “You can not have this in your camera roll.”

He smirked, grabbing his phone before you could do any more damage. “Relax, it’s just for me.” His voice dropped just slightly at the end, a playful kind of teasing that sent a shiver up your spine.

You narrowed your eyes, deciding to push back. “Okay then” you said casually, grabbing your own phone. “If you get to play dirty, I have something for you too.”

George raised an eyebrow as you scrolled, finally stopping on a picture you knew would get to him. You turned the screen toward him, watching his face closely.

It was him,his head tilted back, eyes closed, mouth barely parting his lips against your neck.

His reaction was instant. His fingers twitched where they rested on your thigh, his playful smirk disappeared just a bit.

“Oh,” he said, his voice slightly lower than before. He blinked, looking from the picture to you. “Oh, you’re evil for that.”

You grinned. “What? It’s a great picture.”

He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, nah, you’re trying to kill me.”

You leaned in just slightly, voice dropping to a whisper. “You started it.”

For a second, he just looked at you. Then, without warning, he moved, rolling over you, pressing you into the mattress with a teasing grin. His arms caged you in, his weight just barely hovering above you.

“You really wanna test me, love?” he murmured.

You laughed, not backing down. “Maybe.”

His eyes looked down to your lips for a moment before he kissed you, slow and deep, like he had all the time in the world. His hand trailed down your side, fingers brushing against the hem of your shirt.

Before you could even process it, he grabbed your legs and pulled you down the bed with him, making you let out a surprised gasp. He just grinned, acting like it was nothing, like he didn’t just drag you into him so effortlessly.

Now, with you lying down, he shifted, resting his head against your stomach while lazily scrolling through his phone. His other hand stayed on your hip, fingers tracing random patterns against your skin.

You played with his hair absentmindedly, twirling the strands between your fingers. “You comfortable there?” he hummed, still scrolling. “Mhm. Feels nice.”

He was acting so casual, but the way his thumb occasionally brushed over your skin, the way his grip tightened ever so slightly when you moved..yeah, nothing about this was innocent.

Then, as if proving your point, his hand started drifting lower.

“George,” you warned, voice light but laced with amusement.

He finally glanced up at you, all innocent. “Hmm?”

You gave him a look, and he just grinned, like he wasn’t up to anything at all. But then, before you could react, your phone buzzed, breaking the moment.

You sighed, reaching for it, but George didn’t stop what he was doing. If anything, he took it as a challenge.

You answered, trying to keep your voice steady, but as you spoke, George’s hands wandered higher, slowly tracing up your stomach until his fingers ghosted over your chest.

“Mhm,” you said into the phone, barely processing what the person was saying.

George, still acting like nothing was going on, tapped his fingers lightly against the fabric of your shirt before slipping his hand underneath, his touch warm against your skin. He pressed his lips against your shoulder, completely ignoring the fact that you were in the middle of a call.

You shot him a glare, mouthing " stop it "

He smirked, but his hands didn’t move away. If anything, he gave a slow, teasing squeeze, his eyes flicking up to yours like he was enjoying this way too much.

You ended the call as quickly as possible, dropping your phone onto the bed. “You’re so annoying,” you muttered.

George just grinned. “Yeah, but you love it.”

Before you could fire back, there was a knock on the door.

"Oi, George, you in there?”

It was Chris.

George immediately tried to sound normal, but it did not work. “Uh...yeah?”

There was a pause. Then, a knowing laugh from the other side of the door. “We’re heading out, mate. just letting you guys know.”

George exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah, cool, have fun.”

You could hear the smirk in Chris’s voice. “Don’t do anything too stupid.”

“Bye, Chris.”

Footsteps faded down the hall.

He flopped onto his back with a groan. “I swear, it’s like they have a radar for ruining my fun.”

You laughed, rolling over to grab his phone. “C’mon,you love them. let’s continue with the phone dump "

George sighed dramatically but sat up, resting his chin on your shoulder as you scrolled. “Fine. But you have to pick at least one questionable photo of yourself.”

-

You ended up picking a mix of cute, funny, and actually decent pictures, nothing too questionable despite George’s protests. He still slipped in a few cheeky ones, but you let it slide.

As you hit "post" George wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer against his chest. He glanced at the screen, then at you, a smug smile on his lips. “There, now the world knows I’m completely obsessed with you.”

You laughed, “Oh yeah? Think they’ll survive the heartbreak?”

~~~~~~

Hope that you enjoyed it even though it turned out a bit longer than i expected, I didn't know how to end it🙃

Feel free to leave any requests:)

[livvymd]

Inside Trouble (Part 2)

The kiss should have ended there.

It should have been a moment of clarity—one where you pulled away, looked at each other, and agreed it was a bad idea.

But when you started to lean back, breathless, George’s hands tightened on your waist.

"Not yet," he murmured.

And then he pulled you back in.

This time, the kiss was hungrier, like he had spent too long pretending he didn’t want this. His fingers gripped your waist like he was scared you’d slip away again, and you had to brace yourself against his chest as he kissed you deeper.

You felt dizzy—not just from the way his lips moved against yours, but from the fact that this was George.

And now you weren’t just thinking about him as your best friend.

He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in it—in him.

Until—

Footsteps.

Your heart stopped.

You jerked away, eyes wide, breathing hard.

George groaned under his breath, tilting his head back in frustration, but he let you go just as another contestant walked into the kitchen.

They blinked at you both. "Uh… am I interrupting something?"

You scrambled for words, but George recovered quickly. "Nope. Just talking."

"Yep," you agreed too fast, forcing a smile. "Just talking."

The contestant raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it. They just grabbed a water bottle and left.

The second the door shut, you let out a breath, pressing a hand to your racing heart.

George, however, just grinned.

"That was close," he muttered.

You shot him a glare. "You pulled me back in!"

He didn’t even look sorry. "Yeah. And?"

You stared at him. "And?! George, we’re literally on a reality show where people get eliminated based on social connections—"

"You say that like I wouldn’t take a nomination just to kiss you again."

Your breath hitched.

Because the way he said it? Like it wasn’t even a question? Like he meant it?

You shook your head, trying to ignore the warmth in your chest. "This is bad. Really bad."

George stepped closer. "You sure about that?"

You swallowed. "Yes."

His eyes flickered down to your lips, and suddenly, you weren’t so sure anymore.

But before you could figure it out, another contestant walked in.

This time, you didn’t wait for questions. You turned on your heel and left—before you did something stupid again.

Like let George Clarke kiss you a third time.

Day 16 – The Avoidance Game

You avoided him.

It wasn’t easy—George was everywhere. At breakfast, during group challenges, even when you were just sitting in the lounge. Every time you looked up, he was watching you with this annoying smirk, like he knew exactly why you were keeping your distance.

And okay, yeah. Maybe he did know.

But you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.

At least, that’s what you thought—until he cornered you in the hallway.

"Are we seriously pretending that didn’t happen?" he muttered.

You stepped back, but your back hit the wall. Trapped.

"George—"

"Y/N." He stepped closer. "Talk to me."

You crossed your arms, trying to look unbothered. "It was just a moment."

He scoffed. "Oh yeah? Just a moment?"

You refused to look at him. "Yes."

George tilted his head, like he was deciding whether to believe you. "Then why haven’t you been able to look at me all day?"

Your breath caught. "I have—"

"Nope." His voice was low, teasing. "You’ve been avoiding me. And not very well, by the way."

You clenched your jaw. "Because I’m trying to be smart about this. The others are already suspicious."

George just shrugged. "Let them be."

You stared at him. "George, someone’s gonna notice."

He grinned. "Let them."

Your pulse spiked. "You don’t care if people find out?"

He exhaled sharply. "I care about you."

Your heart stuttered.

George took another step, so close now. His fingers brushed against your hip, and you felt your whole body heat up.

"You really want to pretend like that kiss meant nothing?" he asked softly.

You didn’t answer.

Because the truth?

You weren’t sure you could anymore.

George smirked. "Then stop me."

And then he kissed you again.

Slower this time. Less desperate, more intentional. Like he was proving a point.

And the worst part?

You let him.

Because George Clarke?

He had already won.

[adhdduckie]

candy grams. g.w. x reader pt 2

my masterlist

music choice; dandelions by ruth b

word count: 2.4 k

pt 1

synopsis;

you've been in love with george for almost as long as you've known him.

that makes 6 years. and for the last 5, you've been in love with him.

valentines' day is around the corner. and you think it's a great idea to send him a candy gram anonymously.

a/n gang im so sorry this took so long i have so many IAs.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ you’re whispering as you run up the stairs, back to the common room. you barge into hermione’s room, glad to see that she’s already lying on her bed.

she rises to see who it is, and immediately drops her book as you stumble towards her.

“what- what’s wrong?” she asks you, worry etched into her face.

it’s only then you’re vaguely aware of the tears on your face, and you can taste the salt on your lips.

you flop down face first on her bed, and scream into it.

you aren’t too sure what you’re going to do now, especially after this moment.

once you’re able to control yourself, and after hermione manages to roll you over so that you’re staring up at the ceiling, do you sigh and begin to tell her everything.

hermione sits there and listens, giving you the support that you weren’t aware that you needed so badly. she listens attentively, nodding every so often as to let you know that she’s still listening, despite her silence.

once you’ve finished recounting, you hang your head, hodling your hands to your face.

“why didn’t you just tell him?” you hear her ask you, and when you look at her, she’s staring back at you intensely, and you can’t tell why you feel slightly embarrassed.

“i can’t. I can’t face that rejection. I’ve been friends with him so long, i don’t know how i would deal with that.” you respond, voice hoarse.

she hums.

“you don’t know his answer.” she finally says, after a moment of silence, before she scoots closer to you, your shoulders touching, before you lay your head on her shoulder.

“i do. if it was going to work out in my favour he wouldn’t have waited so long to bring it up to me. or do everything that he did.” you try to explain lamely.

“you don’t know that. George isn’t a very confrontational person by nature. the only times he ever gets back at someone for something they did is when they’ve done it to other people, not him. he’s a prankster by nature, but he’s not all that outgoing.” she points out.

you don’t really notice that you’ve shaken your head until you hear her sigh.

“look, y/n.” she begins, and you know you’re not going to enjoy this, “i think you should have told him. i’ve said this from the beginning. your feelings are probably reciprocated. you haven’t seen the way he looks at you like everyone else has.”

you don’t realise you even huffed when she cuts you off before you even speak; adding on that, “no seriously, remember when harry was needing your help during their end of year exams? and how he kept sticking to your side? George was in a huff for the entire exam period, constantly glaring daggers at harry.”

you sigh, shaking your head again. “he was probably just annoyed of seeing harry all the time, and plus, wasn’t that when harry and ron were arguing again?” you try to explain.

you let out a little laugh, before saying; “i mean, i’d love to think that he cared for me the same way i care for him, but realistically, i don’t think that’s possible. plus, isn’t he super into angelina bell?”

“what’s the worst that would happen if he found out that you liked him?” she tries.

“uhhh, he hates me and never talks to mee again because he feels disgusted??” you respond, trying to seem lighthearted, but the mere thought of it is painful.

hermione stares at you, a frown on her face before she shakes her head. (there’s a lot of head shaking going on.) she realises that she won’t win against your self delusion and negativity, so she just tries to make you feel better instead.

the next few days are hard to get through.

you try your darned best to avoid the crap out of george, and it’s effective enough that even oblivious little harry is able to tell.

it starts off with you darting into a different hall, or empty classroom you see george in the halls.

you switched seats, so you were sitting with katie instead, as soon as classes that you had with george ended, you ducked out, running to your next one, often forgetting your friends behind as well.

avoiding him in the dining hall was a bit harder. you had to wake up a bit earlier in the mornings so you could get food, and everytime you saw him coming in, you’d have to shove what was left on your plate into your mouth, and then get running.

finally, on a sunday morning, fred corners you in the common room, when you’ve just come up from breakfast. luckily, (or unluckily, as you still feel a pang of sadness when you realise you haven’t seen george in forever) george isn’t with him, so you have a peace of mind. (YOU ARE LYING TO YOURSELF YOU LOOK LIKE A SAD LITTLE PUPPY)

“what’s wrong with you.” fred merely states, rather than asking you a question.

“i don’t know what you mean.” you respond, monotonous, and avoiding eye contact, as he looks so much like george you still hurt inside, but he and fred are still so different.

“you’ve been moping like a kicked puppy, and you’ve been avoiding george, so you’re both just moping, and he looks like he wants to end himself.” fred responds, eyes narrowing.

you sigh, before simply stating, “i can’t deal with my feelings, and he confronted me and i can’t deal with it.”

freds eyes somehow manage to narrow further, looking at you suspiciously. “everyone knows you’re in love with each other.”

“we aren’t. at least i am and he isn’t.” you respond simply, sighing as you close your eyes and rub them with your hand.

fred pulls your hand away from your face, and peers into your eyes, not letting go of your hand, he takes it and uses it to lightly slap yourself.

“are. you . dumb.?” he enunciates with each slap. it’s not painful, but its enough for you to fight back against him.

“what, fred.” you manage to snap out.

“he wants you so bad.” fred tells you.

“no he doesn’t”

“yes he does.”

“no he doesn’t”

“yes he does”

“no-”

“oh my gosh i am not doing this with you. he wants you, he’s in love with you, and he’s totally going to kill me for telling you this but i cannot stand this anymore.”

“what?” you ask, a little worried, which is kind of an understatement, as your heart is literally pounding in your chest.

“he is sooooo down bad for you.” fred says, shaking you by your shoulders.

“no.” you respond simply. you want to believe it, you do, but it doesn’t really make any sense.

“what-? …yes he is. i would not be telling you this if i was not the one who had listened to him complain for the entire two months every summer about how much he missed your ass.” fred asserts, continuing to shake you. you’re getting dizzy, so you have to step out of his grip.

“he what?” is your oh so genius response, as you struggle to maintain your composure, dizzy from being shaken and this revelation.

“he wants to kiss you and date you and profess his stupid undying love for his best friend who likes him back but you are dumb and keep trying to run away from him?” fred’s peering at you intensely, before he sighs. “i think it’s better if you hear this from him, so would you please do all of us a favour and just stop running? he’ll probably be on the quidditch pitch now so please please please go talk to him. he’s been working to the bone on the pitch because of you.”

you can’t even give fred a response, your brain is running a mile a minute.

you don’t process that your feet are even moving until you’re out of the castle until the cold hits you. you keep going anyway, until you see a little red blob in the distance, above the quidditch pitch.

as you make your way to the quidditch pitch you’re able to see that the little blob that was just a speck of red in the distance is slowly descending, until you realise its just george.

you break into a run, and as you’re getting close you can see the confusion on his face just before you collide into him, hugging him tight.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, the worried is etched onto his face. he processes that you’re not wearing a jumper, and you’re just in a thin top and jeans. “aren’t you cold? why aren’t you wearing a jumper?” he demands of you as he tries to warm you up, his warm hands rubbing up and down your arms.

“i’m sorry,” comes tumbling out your mouth, as you pull back from the hug. there’s a loss of warmth, and only then you shiver.

the lines of worry on his face smooth out, and he lets out a little sigh. “it’s alright, but please please don’t do that again, it was really horrible.”

you shake your head, your apology seems insignificant. it doesn’t seem like enough.

“i’m really sorry.” you repeat.

“it’s okay.” he asserts, and he picks his broom off the floor as he pulls you close.

“let’s go back in. you must be freezing.” he just says, and the walk back to the castle is mainly quiet. but it’s a good quiet, because you’re happy enough just to spend time with him. you realise you should probably bring up the candy gram incident, but you just don’t know what to do.

it’s as he leaves your side for a moment to set his broom back in the broom cupboard, when you finally muster up the courage. you’re watching him as he sets his broom down gently before you blurt it out.

“about the candy gram-” you start, before he interrupts.

“it’s okay. it was a joke i get it.” he says, as you watch him from the door frame of the cupboard. he’s deliberately avoiding making eye contact, but you need to get over this now or else you never will and fred will also probably commit murder if he was being honest.

“it wasn’t.” you manage to squeak out.

he spins around, and he’s completely silent, as if he wants you to keep on talking, or to explain yourself, or to burst out laughing that you’re just joking again.

“it wasn’t a joke.” there. you said it.

“it was never a joke. I couldn’t say it outright, so i was looking for a way that was less obvious, and when professor Mcgonagall came up with the idea, it seemed like a good idea to get my feelings out and finally get a break. i just didn’t think you’d realise who it was.” you finish, before you finally look up from where you were staring at the ground.

you didn’t hear him come closer to you as you were too stressed out, but now he’s standing close, too close. close enough that if you just leaned forward by a bit, you could touch him.

you look up at him, and the way he’s looking at you has you breathless.

“of course i realised it was you. I know what your handwriting looks like. i’ve sat next to you for years, and we’ve traded so many notes that i’ve saved over the years that i could copy your handwriting without even looking at it. i notice everything you do, even the things you don’t notice you do. you mean the world to me, far beyond what a best friend would be. i want to be more, and it’s something i’ve craved for so long.”

if you thought you were breathless before, you are definitely breathless now. you look at him, searching, searching his face for something that could just show how much he actually means it, or something that’d give it away that he’s not being serious. but you can’t find anything because he’s so earnest.

you know you need to say something, but you’re just searching for something perfect to say in response to the absolute poetry that he’s just sprouted, but the only thing that falls from your parted lips is a squeaked “really?”. it’s embarrassing, so you flush.

he laughs at that, and pulls you in by the loops of your jeans, so that you’re pressed up against him. he leans in close to you, his lips a fraction from yours. you can feel his hot breath fan over your cheek and you shiver, because its a stark contrast to the cold dreich weather outside.

he’s emanating warmth, and everything you’ve ever wanted. he finally leans in and… kisses your forehead, before he’s stepping away.

you’re left standing there confused and annoyed, before he sees the disappointment on your face before he laughs, pulling you in again, and giving you what he knows you both want.

it’s a kiss that’s hard and soft, and he lulls you into some sort of rhythm that’s just addicting, and you sigh happily into his mouth, and you can feel the way he smiles against you.

“you’re not funny.” you mutter, when he finally pulls away.

“i’m hilarious.” he laughs and you can’t stop fight against the smile that’s breaking out across your face, before he kisses it again.

“you wish.” you manage to get out, when he’s done.

“you love me.” he teases, and you don’t respond to it, which makes him smile even harder. you’re walking off without him, trying so hard to not start laughing out of giddiness. he stands there with a smile so big that he knows you can’t see, before he runs up to catch up with you.

he pulls you in close as he walks you back to the castle together, his hands clasped with yours naturally, and you think to yourself that you have a lot of lost time to catch up on.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

later on, you’re tucked into george’s side in the common room as you warm up near the fire. his arm’s around your shoulder, and when fred comes in through the portrait, and his eyes land on the two of you together, you’re able to hear a sigh of relief coming from him.

“it’s about time. i was going to go insane from all the negative tension. why did it take so long?” fred complains, falling into the couch across from you. you both look at each other, and without a response, you both look at him with a smile.

he shudders, “oh god you’re already gross.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------tags

@aceofspades190 @mirkwoodshewolf @blackqueengold @serenablamelessheart. @hooneeyydroops (sorry wasn't sure if u wanted to be tagged so if not im sorry)

[im-trying-my-best-yall]

I will die on the hill of George Weasley loving a partner with a bit of a temper

Like yes he will 100% protect you with his life but also if you can fight?? he will step aside and cheer you on and heckle the poor fool youre beating the ass of

Youre yelling up at some asshole upperclassman who had the audacity to tell you to watch where youre going in the hallway?? standing behind you as backup but mentally kicking his lil feet

You come to him fuming with clenched fists and asking for help on a revenge prank?? hes falling 10x more in love IMMEDIATELY

and he knows he can take care of himself just fine! him and Fred are perfectly capable at defending themselves! but if you stand up for him or his family in any capacity?? if you punch some blood-purist in the nose after they tried shit talking his "blood traitor" family in front of you?? you might as well just get married right then and there

[jijournal]

CONFESSION CANDY | G.W

Summary: When Fred convinces George to test their latest prototype, George has no idea the candy will shout out a confession he’s secretly been holding in for years. To his horror—and your shock—it blurts out that he's in love with you.

Word Count: 400+

A/N: A cute lil drabble for my favorite Weasley. Hope everyone loves this! 🫰

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

“We need a better name,” George muttered, frowning at the swirling, glittering sweet in his palm. “This sounds like a rejected Weird Sisters single.”

Fred snorted from where he lounged in a battered armchair, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Alright then, Mister Marketing Genius, why don’t you test the prototype?”

George raised an eyebrow. “You serious?”

Fred leaned forward, his grin widening. “Deadly.”

It was a lazy Friday night at Hogwarts, the common room buzzing with quiet chatter and late-night laughter. Students lounged on couches, sprawled over homework, and huddled around games. You sat across the room from the twins, half-focused on your Charms textbook, though your eyes kept drifting toward their ridiculous candy experiment.

George hesitated, then shrugged like a man walking into battle. “Here lies George Weasley. Death by experimental confection.”

You smiled behind your book.

And then he popped the glittery sweet into his mouth.

For a second, nothing happened.

Then George turned his head, locked eyes with you across the room, and yelled—

“I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!”

The room went dead silent.

You blinked. “...What?”

George froze, horrified, his eyes wide as if someone else had hijacked his mouth. “Oh no.” He slapped a hand over his lips. “Oh no no no—”

Fred was wheezing with laughter. “It works! Merlin’s pants, it actually works! This is brilliant!”

George groaned and collapsed backward onto the couch, burying his face in a throw pillow. “I’m going to die. Bury me in Zonko’s. Tell Mum I went out with honor.”

You just stared, your brain lagging behind your racing heart.

He said he loved you.

Was it the candy talking?

Or was it—?

Before you could think twice, you stood, walked over to the coffee table, and picked up one of the shimmering sweets still left in George’s hand. His eyes peeked out from behind the pillow, alarmed.

“Wait—don’t—!”

Too late. You popped it in your mouth. It melted like spun sugar, and warmth bloomed in your chest like sunlight after winter.

Your fingers trembled slightly.

Then you looked straight at George, heart thudding, and said, clear and certain—

“I’ve been in love with you since fifth year.”

The words hung in the air, shimmering like the candy itself.

Fred stopped laughing.

George sat up so fast the pillow flew off his lap. His mouth parted, stunned.

Your eyes met.

And suddenly, neither of you were laughing anymore.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

comment for taglist!

masterlist!

[deadqueerboys]

gn reader thats why i put partner 😭

My bad, I'm sleepy.

Hot partner x Nerdy Dtkq

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

Dream

He wasn't sure how he pulled you, he just started talking about minecraft and then BOOM, you were on his bed naked. Dream was a little simp for you, he couldn't belive in how hot you were, he couldn't believe he was this lucky to have someone like you. During that, he has a lot of insecurities, always wondering if you wouldn't leave him for someone hotter and with more free time, but you would never. And he remembers this every night when they have sex. He's always so nervous and shaking until you finally make the first move.

Everything was new to him. He had a partner some years ago, but it was nothing compared to you. You thought him everything he needed to know. You showed him how to please himself in a way he would never imagine. At first, he was a stuttering mess. He didn't know what to do or how to do it until you made him relax and enjoy. He's always talking about his next ideas for video, sometimes while you're sucking his dick. He has to focus on something else so he doesn't cum so fast, so he learned he could talk with you while you're deep throating him.

"So, I was thinking about the new manhunt, I wanted to include Badboyhalo as a titan. George and I could run away from him. I like bringing my friends to it. It's a project that gets a lot of views." Dream yaps as you suck his cock. Sometimes, he stops and moans, grabbing your hair and forcing you down on him even more. He's so warm and big, you love spending time between his legs.

Dream also likes when you sit on his lap while he's editing a video, he's such a needy bitch and he needs you there so he can focus a little bit more. He puts you exactly where you can feel his erection, but he doesn't want you to take his clothes off, no. He wants you to ride his thigh while he's clothes are on. He personally thinks you're the hottest person ever, so anything from you is accepted. Even if it's just some grinding with clothes on.

George

George is really attractive himself, so he doesn't mind being with someone hotter than him. In fact, he loves to see people talking about how they would do both of you. He finds this idea tempting, even knowing he would never share you. He's not insecure or worried. He knows you promised him loyalty, and you will keep this promise. He likes it when you get above him, riding his dick while he only grabs your hips and pulls you down.

He can't stop but stare at you, his eyes always seem lost between your eyes and your lips, he could never choose one to look at, he has to be focused on both. He's a cute boyfriend, always bringing you gifts. He loves morning kisses, sometimes you wake up, and he's not in bed. He spends the night working on a video or a plan for a new stream. He spent his whole night awake, so when you wake up, you have to go after him. He was in his office, sitting on his chair with some bags on his eyes.

"Hey, love. I.. um.." He yawns, you could see on his face how tired he was. You go downstairs and bring him a coffee. He doesn't enjoy much, but it would help him to stay a little more awake. George gives you a soft morning kiss, but when he starts, he can't stop anymore. He sees himself kissing your neck, cheeks, and mouth. He's lost on your touch, so he makes you sit on his leg. No sexual tension, just both of you enjoying a good moment together. You finish editing for him with his tips.

He eats you out by the morning in the days he had a good night of sleep (which is almost always), he loves sucking you and losing himself on your crotch. George is good with his mouth, his tongue being very useful too. He wraps your legs around his neck as he goes deeper on you. He's very quiet during sex, so don't expect him to say much, he just whimpers and that's it.

Sapnap

Sapnap was a nerd since high school, where you met him. His dad always wanted him to be the best, so he's always been smarter than you and more quick in tests or anything else. He's pretty quick, and he enjoys being the best for you. He's such a cute boyfriend, a little bit competitive, but nothing too much. He's a total jerk during sex, he loves calling you pet names and forcing you to be his slut. It's one of the moments where he can prove himself stronger than you. He loves to talk during sex, not about his plans, no. He's just pretty vocal.

"Do you like that? Do you like how daddy fucks you until your legs are shaking?" Sapnap moans and cries, he practically drools over you. He can't believe that he's actually doing you. Even after years of dating, he still gets the same reaction as the first time. He grabs your hips as he fucks you, all of his dick getting inside you now that you're already used to his length. He fucks you hard and with no hesitation, he wants to see you moaning his name and calling him daddy.

He loves to yap with you, both sitting on his bed as you caress his hair. The soft moments are the best for him. He enjoys your company, and he can talk about his new ideas for videos and talk about how bad he wants you to be in one of his projects. He also adores talking about you. He's obsessed with you. He talks about you to his friends every day, about how he likes your eyes and your fucking pretty smile.

Sapnap is a simple man. He doesn't need much to live with. He loves the days when you cook together, he's not good at cooking but he loves to help you. Making food for Dream and George, just you and Sapnap in the kitchen hugging each other and stealing kisses between reading the recipes.

Karl

He's a quiet person. He only talks to you, especially the days he isn't feeling okay. At this moment, he should be working and traveling together with Nolan, but he wasn't feeling healthy, so he stayed at home with you. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't exactly true. He just wanted a day to stay in bed with you, your arms around him, sometimes griding your hips and making some soft noises. He doesn't mind having a hot partner, even tho he's pretty jealous when you get around his friends.

"Babe, are you still awake?" Karl looks up from your chest. He was with a morning voice, so cute and hot. He giggles and nuzzles against your neck, kissing and biting there. He loves to tease you. Even being such a soft guy, he enjoys being at the top. He faces you with a smile before peaking kisses on your lips. He can feel himself getting hard, but he wound never admit it.

Karl puts his pants down when you order, getting only on his boxers. It makes him blush, but he quickly puts his hand inside your pants. He touches you, and it feels like the paradise. He looks at you. You're so hot he can barely believe this is true and not a dream. He puts your clothes down, getting between your legs and going inside you slowly and nicely.

He's nice with his hands, pleasuring you while he gets inside you. He feels his dick getting inside your tight hole, he rolls his eyes and holds himself not to cum right now. He thrust inside you with kindness, slowly going faster with each second that passed by. He moans and bites his lips, suddenly, he starts to yap to you.

"God, I was supposed to be working.. Jimmy is going to be so mad." He giggles again, slapping his cock inside you. He's fast now, going inside you without any doubt. Karl slaps your ass, putting his hand around your neck, softly suffocating you. "You like that? Can I actually do it?" You nod, and he grabs it harder, going stronger inside you. He feels his dick get even hard, now he was really about to cum.

Quackity

He's such a jealous person, nobody can touch or look at you too much. He's very pretty himself, but he hardly knows it. Quackity is so kind. He truly deserves all your love and attention, and he loves how you help on his projects, too. He already added you to the qspm and some events before and after it. He shows you as an example, somebody who can be hot and smart at the same time.

He's a great speaker, but sometimes he loses himself and starts to change between Spanish and English, and you do your best to understand. He loves talking to you. You're the person he trusts the most. He always shares everything with you. He is a little bit scared of losing you, but after being the only one single between his friends, now he shows you every time he can. He posts pictures of you, telling everyone how glad he is to find someone who likes him for who he is.

"Cariño, did you miss me?" Quackity smiles, coming over to you and hugging you from behind. He loves this position, so he peaks some kisses on your neck, his warm breath tickling on your skin. He was hard for a while now. He only came back from his office to see you, and he wanted you badly. Alex puts his hand under his underwear, stroking himself against you as he feels your hips move.

He holds you there until you turn around, then he takes his pants off and quickly forces himself inside your mouth. It took you some seconds before you accepted it and closed your eyes. You go up and down on his dick, almost choking on him, but you know how to keep it to yourself. He bites his lips and smiles, lust on his eyes as he watches you do your job, and one more time, he reminds himself that you're his.

[ador3him]

OKAYY HEAR ME OUT

dtk & reader hcs! but they are all friends, how do you think they would be if they hooked up with reader and got insanely pussy whipped by them 😭 LMAOOO , like they just get completely obsessed after the hookup

- 👻😁

pairing: dtk x reader

requested? yes by 👻 my beloved

warnings: public stuff, smut!

authors note: I didn't know if you meant like smut involved but I kinda incorporated it in, if you want something else just lmk, this is just how I interpreted it!!

---------------------------------------------------

DREAM

Dream gasped for air as he moved away from yn lips. His cock pulsed again even after two rounds. Dreams cock pressed against yn slick pussy. He began to grow again and moaned into her neck. "Dream I can't do anymore," she moaned out at the feeling of his growing cock. "That's okay," he mumbled. He reached down to just feel her pussy. He covered his hand over it feeling it's warmth.

-

"yn, what are you doing tonight?" Dream asked as all their friends sat around in the dream team living room. "nothing, why?" She smiled at him. "I was wondering if you wanted to?" He looked her up and down trying to hint. "I thought what you guys did was just a hookup?" Sapnap butted in. "It was, I just, I really liked it," Dream blushed. "Dude you're so fucked," Sapnap laughed and pointed down at Dreams obvious bulge.

SAPNAP

"I couldn't take my lips off her clit. It was so sweet and the sight. Oh my god," sapnap moaned at the memory of yn squirting all over Sapnap's face as he ate her out. "You've been talking about her pussy for like an hour it's really weird," George cringed. "It was so good though," Sapnap thought back. "She's our friend shut up," George threw a pillow at his crotch.

Yn walked by towards the kitchen. "Yn, Sapnap won't stop talking about you guys having sex," George laughed. "Seriously? If you liked it that much you could've just said and we could've done it again." Yn shrugged her shoulders and continued to walk to the kitchen. "What, really?" Sapnap eyes widened. Yn nodded and Sapnap jumped up grabbing yn around the waist and pulling her towards his bedroom. "I have to make your pretty pussy squirt again,"

GEORGE

"that felt so good," George whispered and pressed a kiss on yn forehead as they laid entangled in each other and the sheets. "It was, thanks Georgie," yn smiled and began to get up. "Wait, where are you going?" George asked pulling her back down. "To my bedroom?" "No, stay!" George pleaded holding his arm around his waist snaking it into her panties. "I'll convince you," he mumbled pushing her down onto the bed.

George looked up to yn eyes from in front of her pussy. "Can I?" He asks politely, pressing a kiss over her panties. "Yeah," she moaned out. "Good," he almost ripped her panties and dove into her wetness.

-

Multiple orgasms later George stayed latched onto yn clit. Yn moaned loudly and tugged at his hair begging for him to stop. "can't, I love your pussy too much," he mumbled into her heat. "We get it, yn pussy is great but some of us are tryna sleep." Karl knocked on George's bedroom door as the guest bedroom is next to George's.

KARL

Karl and yn sat next to each other on the couch along with all their other friends. Karl's hand made its way under the blanket that they were sharing and onto her thigh. "Can I do this?" Karl whispered into her ear. Yn nodded absently not thinking much of it until he squeezed her thigh higher then usual. "What exactly are you doing?" She asked softly. "I can't stop thinking about you, ever since we, you know. I need it. Please." He mumbled into her ear kissing it slightly.

Yn opened her legs slightly trying to be discrete. All their friends knew they hooked up as Karl was completely enamored by yn afterwards. Completely smitten by the feeling. But that didn't mean they wanted everyone to know that innocent Karl was currently finger fucking yns tight, soaking pussy he was obsessed with. Without thinking Karl took his fingers out and placed them into his mouth licking his fingers clean. "Are you guys joking?" Dream groaned looking at the two.

[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.”

[hirayalore]

this is absolutely nerve-wracking. you don’t even know why you agreed to be on this side of the team in the first place, knowing that you would be better in the field (being an aspiring auror and a good one at that), and is quite perhaps the human personification of the word ‘impatience’ when it came to situations like these.

though yet again, it was GEORGE WEASLEY who made you promise that you weren’t going to volunteer to be a potter duplicate for the said chosen one’s safe travel to the burrow—the place you’re already in at the moment as he reckoned that it was enough that he had to worry about his father and brothers being with him for the task; he didn’t want to be preoccupied thinking about whether his girlfriend was managing herself well too.

“i’ll be careful,” george promised you before the both of you parted earlier, a kiss planted on your forehead, “i’ll meet you at the burrow, safe and sound, alright?”

you only nodded, not knowing what to do or say. you wanted to stop him from leaving, to convince him that it was too dangerous. however, you also knew that it was selfish of you to do so, considering that what he was going to do was not only for the betterment of harry potter himself, but possibly the whole wizarding world.

a loud sound of crashing coming from the front yard pushes you out of your trance and you stand up from your seat to run outside, quickly followed by ginny who has been quiet and pacing around the house in anxiety before she heard the crash too.

it’s hagrid and harry—the real harry you presume as ginny launches towards him so that they could embrace. you let out a breath, relieved that he’s here unharmed, but admittedly not relieved enough as there is  still no sign of george.

though as if on cue, two men suddenly appear on the right side of the lawn via apparition and you recognize them to be remus and george immediately, with the latter being supported by the former.

it dawns on you that george is injured, your eyes focusing on the side of his head that is bleeding.

“i’m good, i’m all good,” are the first words he utters to you once you’re close, grabbing his other arm so you and remus can carry him to the burrow together.

you can’t bring yourself to reply. your heart is thumping so hard inside your chest that you feel like you’re going to shut down any second now. the only thing that’s keeping you from going into full panic mode is how he at least has the strength to stay conscious and talk to you still as he’s being led to the sofa, a fact that convinces your brain that he’s nowhere near danger now.

once he’s laid there, remus approaches harry to check on him while you take the liberty to rush to get some medical supplies that could help george’s condition.

molly then tends to him, brushing his hair and whispering thanks that he didn’t arrive in a worse condition, before she goes to you and says that you can be in charge of george as she waits for her other family members’ arrival.

“sweetheart,” george murmurs, staring at you as you kneel beside him and take out a bunch of bandages and some healing potion to help with his blown up ear, “i’m fine, i promise.”

still, no sentence escapes from your lips. you remain busy, just rummaging through the medical kit even though you’ve already got what you needed. annoyance is bubbling inside of you because of what he just said, but you don’t show it, aware that it might be ridiculous to do so as it isn’t like george wished to get himself hurt. 

“sweetie,” he repeats, voice hoarse and tone more pleading, “look at me, will you?”

you don’t oblige. you just zip the bag close and place it on the floor.

“____.” he calls your name, stern and demanding now with a hand holding your wrist to stop you from moving too much.

you finally look at him, his eyes turning soft at the way yours started to water.

you’re a strong girl, he knows that, and you don’t like showing vulnerability to anyone or in any circumstances unless it greatly affected you—and judging by how you’re forcing yourself not to cry or show too much emotion because of what happened to him, it’s clear that you’re so affected by this and that he made you worry so much to the point of wanting to sob.

“i’m okay,” he says again, bringing your wrist over his chest, just so your palm can rest on where you can feel his heart the most, “it’s still beating for you, darling. can’t you feel it?”

you inhale sharply, a lame attempt to stop yourself from fully crying, and nod. “i feel it.”

“it’s just my ear that was messed up. nothing to be alarmed about.”

“don’t be ridiculous. this is still worth being alarmed about.”

“but it’s just an ear.”

“it’s still an ear, george.”

“yeah—but i’ve got another one.”

you close your eyes momentarily.

there really is no point in arguing with this man.

“whatever,” you exhale, shaking off the annoyance away once more, “let’s see what i can do for your—”

you’re supposed to pull your hand away from his chest to start examining him thoroughly but he stops you, keeping your palm in place.

“what?” you ask.

he looks extremely serious as he says his next sentence. “give me a kiss.”

“a kiss?” you repeat.

“a kiss, yes.”

you scoff. “george, you’re still bleeding and—”

“just one, please,” he cuts you off once more, the one impatient now. “look, i… i thought i almost didn’t make it, okay? then i kept thinking what if it really was the end of it all, and then i remembered i only kissed you on the forehead before i left, and that would’ve been the last kiss you had from me.”

he truly has a peculiar mind. out of all the possible things to think of when one is perhaps on the brink of death, all he thinks about is that he never gave you a proper kiss on the lips.

“you’re a bloody idiot, darling,” you say, leaning in to give him a peck on the lips like requested, a gesture that he receives with a contented sigh, “and quite literally too, that is.”

you give him another kiss, this one fuller and with george placing a hand on your back to press you further towards him.

it’s only when the both of you hear fred cough that you pull away, glancing behind you to see his twin brother looking at him with worry.

“sorry to steal him away from you, ____,” fred says as you stand up, getting the hint and giving him permission to go to your previous spot. “just have to check on this clumsy git and then he’s all yours again.”

you chuckle, hugging fred quickly too in gratefulness because he arrived fine as well, before going to the kitchen and preparing something for the whole lot to eat with molly.

as you wait for the water to boil for some tea, you lean on the counter and gaze towards george who’s still conversing with fred.

the moment your eyes meet for a brief second, he has the nerve to wink.

you smile.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ reposted from my other account !

[tammyjackson50-blog]

No so secret anymore || G.C

George x reader

1/2

Summary: You and George have been dating for a few months, but you weren't as careful as you thought, and fans started to suspect, and your friends weren't helping either...

(Pictures are not mine)

You'd think that keeping a relationship secertly among a group of friends who are also YouTubers would be pretty easy because they will understand how things are going right?

Think again.

Today, you were all set to film a reaction video, each from your own setups.

The plan was simple: watch some TikToks, have a laugh, and entertain the fans.

But with the recent surge of fan edits shipping you and George in the last few weeks, you had a feeling this session would be anything but simple.

As you joined the call, George's familiar grin filled your screen. "Alright, lads and lasses, ready to dive into the abyss of TikTok cringe?"

Arthur (Hill) chuckled. "Always, mate. But before we start, have you seen this?" He shared his screen, showing a TikTok compilation titled "George and Y/N: A Love Story."

You closed your eyes. "Oh, for the love of-"

Chris smirked. "The fans have been busy. Look at this one." He played another edit, this time highlighting every time you and George had shared a look or laughed together in past videos.

George laughed, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "They're really reaching, aren't they?"

Max raised an eyebrow. "Reaching? Mate, even Stevie Wonder could see there's something going on."

George laughed. " Oh man, are we that obvious?"

You felt your cheeks heat up. "Guys, we're supposed to be filming."

Chris leaned back, feigning innocence. "Oh, we're just getting started. The fans ship it, Y/N. Who are we to deny them?"

You groaned, rubbing your temples. "Look, if you keep this up while we're recording, half of this is gonna have to be cut,either because I'll be laughing and getting red too much or because you idiots are gonna make it too obvious."

Despite your best efforts, the teasing continued.

Every shared laugh, every accidental overlap in speech, every mirrored reaction was met with exaggerated "oohs" and "aahs" from the boys.

As you prepared to sign off, Arthur grinned mischievously. "So, when's the official announcement? You know that there is no way that the fans would stop this shipping thing anytime soon."

George smirked, "Guess they'll just have to keep watching and find out."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. Keeping this secret was proving harder by the day, especially with friends like these.

As soon as the recording ended and the others kept chatting, you and George signed off.

"Alright, lads, enjoy talking shit. I’m out," George said, stretching.

"Yeah, same," you added. "Try not to plan our wedding while we’re gone."

Arthur snickered. "No promises, Mrs. Clarkey."

You laugh and shut off Discord, flopping onto your bed with a deep sigh.

The teasing had been nonstop, and while it was funny, it was also a bit exhausting in some way.

You knew the boys weren’t gonna let up anytime soon.

You barely had a second to collect yourself when your bedroom door creaked open.

And there he was.

"Mrs. Clarkey, " George grinned, stepping inside like it's his room.

You groaned, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. "No, give me a break."

He caught it with ease, laughing.

"What? I thought you liked me."

"Not when you've spent the last hour making me look red like a freaking tomato."

"Oi, don’t blame me! They started it."

He closed the door behind him and climbed onto the bed, lying on his side to face you. "Besides, you gotta admit,it was funny."

You rolled onto your back and turned your head to look at him. "They’re getting worse, you know."

"They’re just having fun," he said, nudging your side. "We did throw this on them outta nowhere."

"Yeah, and now they think it’s their life's mission to make me feel embarrassed like a little girl every time we’re on camera together."

George laughed, draping an arm over your stomach. "Would it be so bad if they did? You look cute when you’re flustered."

You pushed him not seriously "You love pissing me off, don’t you?"

"Absolutely." He leaned in, "But you love me anyway."

You sighed dramatically. "Unfortunately."

He grinned and kissed you, "Lucky me, then."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have another part for this, tell me it you like it:)

[themdera]

Wait for me

In every life. I’ll find you. 1540 Words.

The stage lights were blinding, as they always were. You stood at the back of the crowd, heart pounding in sync with the bass reverberating through the venue. George was on stage, mic in hand, his voice making the audience laugh. There was something transcendent about watching him perform—he commanded the room with ease, his charisma radiating across every laugh and cheer.

This wasn’t his usual setup of gaming videos or commentary. This was his podcast tour—live, raw, and intimate. Watching him like this was like seeing a different version of him, one that the rest of the world adored but you knew better than anyone.

At one point, his eyes swept the crowd and landed on you. His lips quirked into a small, private smile before he looked away, continuing his bit with Max and Andrew . That tiny moment was yours, a tether in the whirlwind of flashing lights and screaming fans.

As the show wrapped up, the crowd erupted in applause. George and the boys waved goodbye, bowing theatrically before disappearing backstage. You lingered by the side door, the crisp November air biting at your cheeks. The venue lights glowed dimly behind you as you waited, the hum of post-show chatter fading into the distance.

The door creaked open, and George appeared. His hair was damp from the heat of the stage, his cheeks flushed and his smile tired but genuine.

“There you are,” he said, pulling you into his arms.

“You did amazing,” you murmured, your face pressed against his chest.

“You always say that.”

“And I always mean it.”

He chuckled softly, his voice low and warm. “Let’s mcget out of here.”

The tour was grueling. The pace of travel, rehearsals, and endless fan interactions was wearing on George. You could see it in the way his shoulders slumped when he thought no one was looking, or how he fell asleep mid-sentence during quiet moments.

“You need a break,” you told him one evening as he sat at the hotel desk, his laptop glowing faintly in the dark room.

“I can’t,” he replied, not even looking up. “The next show’s sold out, and I have edits due for the channel for a few brand deals too, It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, and you know that. You’re running yourself into the ground.”

“I’m okay,” he insisted, but the cracks were showing.

You watched helplessly as he pushed himself harder, your protests bouncing off the wall of his determination.

The collapse happened during a recording session in his makeshift studio. You heard the sound of a chair scraping and a heavy thud, and when you rushed in, George was on the floor, pale and unresponsive.

The ambulance ride was a blur. His friends arrived at the hospital shortly after you, their faces pale and tense. The waiting room was suffocatingly silent, the only sounds the faint buzz of fluorescent lights and your own uneven breathing.

Hours passed before a doctor finally emerged. “He’s stable,” they said. “But his body’s been under immense stress. He needs complete rest.”

Relief flooded through you, but it was short-lived. When you saw him lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to monitors, his usual energy replaced with exhaustion, your heart broke.

“You scared me,” you whispered, gripping his hand tightly.

He cracked a faint smile, his voice barely above a whisper. “Sorry, love.”

“This isn’t funny, George. You have to stop.”

“I know.”

But you weren’t sure he truly did.

Recovery was slow and frustrating for him. George hated being idle, hated feeling like he was letting people down. But you were firm, forcing him to rest even when he protested.

One evening, as you curled up on the sofa, his head in your lap, he sighed deeply.

“I don’t know who I am without this,” he admitted, his voice soft.

“You’re still George, you’re still you” you said, running your fingers through his hair. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Not to me, not to them.”

He looked up at you, his eyes glassy. “What if I’m not enough?”

“You are,” you said firmly. “You always have been.”

But just as things seemed to be getting better, he began to withdraw again.

One night, he told you about a dream.

“We were together,” he said, his voice low, “but then you were gone. I kept calling for you, but I couldn’t find you.”

“You’ll always find me,” you promised, cupping his face.

“Promise me something,” he said, his eyes searching yours.

“Anything.”

“No matter what happens, don’t stop fighting for me.”

“I promise.”

One day, as you were tidying up his studio, you found a note tucked between the pages of his planner. It was scribbled in his messy handwriting, and your heart clenched as you read it:

“What if I can’t do it anymore? What if I’m not good enough anymore ?”

Tears blurred your vision as you clutched the note to your chest.

You tried to talk to him that night.

“I found your note,” you said, your voice tentative as you sat beside him on the sofa.

He tensed, his eyes darting to the floor. “I didn’t mean for you to see that.”

“George,” you said, placing a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to carry this alone.”

He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” you pleaded, your voice breaking.

For a moment, he looked at you, his eyes filled with so much pain it made your chest ache.

“I’m scared,” he admitted finally. “What if I let everyone down? What if I let you down?”

“You could never let me down,” you said firmly, cupping his face in your hands. “I love you, George. That’s all that matters.”

But love wasn’t enough to stop what came next.

It happened one quiet afternoon, a rare day off where you were both home. George had been in his studio all morning, working on something he wouldn’t let you hear yet.

“I’ll come out in a bit,” he’d said when you brought him a cup of tea. “Just need to finish this.”

But when you checked on him hours later, he was slumped over his desk, unresponsive.

The ambulance arrived within minutes, but it felt like an eternity as you sat by his side, clutching his hand and begging him to wake up.

He didn’t.

The doctors said it was his heart, weakened from years of stress and neglect. You couldn’t process their words.

George was gone.

The man who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, who held you close when you were scared, who promised he’d always find you—he was gone. The world moved on, but you couldn’t. His absence was a void you didn’t know how to fill. His friends tried to help—Chris and Chip checked in constantly, Arthur sent you food, Freezy offered to cover your work responsibilities—but nothing could replace George.

The emptiness that followed was unbearable. The funeral, the condolences, the quiet that settled in the wake of his absence—it all felt like a cruel joke. His studio became a shrine, untouched except for the nights when you’d sit in his chair, headphones on, playing his last recordings.

One night, as you sat in his studio, the familiar scent of him surrounding you, you pressed play on his laptop. The screen lit up with a video file, the title simply reading: For Her.

George’s face appeared, his smile bittersweet as he looked into the camera.

“Hey, love,” he said softly. “If you’re watching this… I guess I’m not there anymore.”

Tears streamed down your face as his voice filled the room.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to leave you like this. But I need you to know that you were my everything. You still are. And I’ll always find you… somehow.”

As the video ended, you clutched the screen to your chest, his words echoing in your mind. That night, as you drifted into yet another restless sleep, you heard it:

“I’ll always find you.”

Your heart raced. “George?”

The air felt charged, as if he was there, just out of reach.

Desperation gripped you. You turned to myths, legends, anything that might give you a way to bring him back.

It was impossible, but so was hearing his voice.

“George!” you cried, running to him.

He turned, his face lighting up with a mix of shock and relief. “You found me.”

“I promised,” you said, throwing your arms around him.

But the reunion was fleeting. A voice boomed: “To take him back, you must follow the path and never look back. If you do, he will be lost forever.”

You nodded, your grip on George’s hand tightening.

The journey back was agonizing. The whispers grew louder, taunting you, but you kept your gaze forward. As you neared the threshold, the urge to look back became unbearable. You could feel George’s presence, but doubt crept in.

“Don’t stop,” his voice urged.

Finally, you stepped into the light. But the moment you turned, George’s face lit with love—and then dissolved into the shadows.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed.

But his voice lingered, soft and unyielding: “I’ll always find you. In every life.”

[andy-15-07]

The One Between the Twins

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

Word count:1102

Harry Potter Masterlist | request (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Y/N stepped into Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, the familiar bell tinkling overhead. The walls were lined with rows of joke itemsSkiving Snackboxes, Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, extendable earsand somewhere in the back, the soft hum of the twins’ latest invention pulsed like a heartbeat.

“Morning, love!” called one of them, sweeping forward with an armful of fireworks that sizzled in his hand.

Y/N smiled. “Good morning, George,” she said, leaning in for a quick kiss on his cheek.

George blinked. “Uh… morning,” he replied, voice oddly high-pitched. “What can I do for you today?”

Y/N frowned. George sounded an awful lot like Fred. She suppressed a grin: it must be his first swap of the day. “I need four dozen Fanged Flyer fireworkscheap dragon’s-breath varietyand a box of Extendable Ear Wax. Mum says I’m missing a little extra… wax.”

“Coming right up!” ‘George’really Fredturned and disappeared through the back door.

Y/N glanced at the real George, who was leaning against the counter, arms crossed. He wore the same mischievous grin she always recognized. “You’re the first one to show up, Georgie,” she teased.

He shrugged. “Quality control.” He winked, then turned toward Fredstill out of sightand shouted, “Maybe you should’ve said hi instead of running off like a panting Niffler!”

Footsteps. The actual Fred appeared, still clutching the fireworks. “Good morning, sweetheart,” he said in his own lower-toned voice, handing her the items. “Four dozen and wax. All yours.”

Y/N smiled and surveyed both twins. “Thanks, Fred. And thanks, George.”

George tipped an imaginary hat. “Happy to serve.”

Fred rolled his eyes. “Honestly, you’re practically dating a two-for-one deal.”

“Because I’m special,” Y/N winked, taking her purchases. “See you tonight for dinner?”

Fred blinked. “Dinner… yes. Tonight.”

George shook his head. “No, tonight’s my shift cover. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Y/N smiled at them both. “Of course.” She turned to leave, then paused and looked back. “By the way: nice face-switching this morning, but I’m still not confused.” She winked again and vanished out the door.

Behind the counter, Fred and George exchanged triumphant grins.

That evening, Y/N arrived at The Leaky Cauldron. A corner table was reserved, and beside it stood one of the twinsthough which one, she wasn’t saying yet. He waved her over.

“Evening, love,” he said, voice smooth as velvet. He offered her his arm and led her in.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. He said “Fred” words. But the hand felt like George’s cooler, more slender grip.

“George?” she asked.

He laughed. “Nope. George is... otherwise engaged.” He winked. “Fred.”

She smiled and slid into the booth. “All right, Fred, what’s new in joke-land?”

He laughed. “Same old, same old. I’ve been working on a new Sneezing Powder.”

“Yeah? If it’s anything like the last one”

“Which turned explodingly toxic?”

“Exactly.”

Fred rolled his eyes. “No, this one’s harmless. Just makes you sneeze gold sparkles.”

She snorted. “You do know dragons sneeze actual fire, right?”

Fred flopped back against the booth. “Fine, maybe fire-sparkles. Either way, it’s fabulous.”

They chatted, sipping butterbeers and trading stories. Later, Y/N excused herself to go to the loo.

When she returned, a figure was at the booth. It was the other twin, who patted the seat beside him.

“Hey, love,” he said, his voice bouncy.

Y/N slid in. “George?”

He grinned. “Fred’s called a last-minute meetingurgent fireworks business. So I’m filling in.”

Y/N laughed. “Well, I swear you two are in cahoots.”

“Only on days ending in ‘y.’” He stretched, almost knocking over her butterbeer. “Want another?”

“Please.” She watched him speak, all lanky limbs and playful smirk. The voice was higher, the tone more teasingclassic Georgie.

“More butterbeer for the lady,” he said, sliding toward the bar as a barkeep appeared.

When he returned, Y/N set the drink down. “You know,” she said, leaning forward, “I’m flattered you both want to be me date.”

Georgereally Fredblinked. “You know… date, right? You and”

“Me and one of you,” Y/N finished, folding her arms. “But here’s the thing: I know which one.”

Both twins froze.

“Care to explain?” Fred asked, voice clipped.

Y/N smiled. “Three clues.”

They exchanged looks.

“Clue one,” she continued. “Today, at the shop, when I asked for wax, someone said ‘Coming right up!’ in that lower, gravelly voiceand the quote marks around coming were… dramatic. Fred, you do drama. George is more… chill.”

Fred’s jaw twitched. George smirked.

“Clue two: at dinner, when you said George had a meeting, it was in that bouncy, joking way you do when you’re utterly baffled by sudden adult responsibilitiesGeorge always underplays important things, and Fred overplays them.”

Both looked guilty.

“Clue three: when I was in the loo, the ‘George’ who got my butterbeer was too… careful. George is clumsy. He would’ve knocked it over onto my lap.”

George paled. Fred raised an eyebrow.

Y/N picked up her glass and took a sip. “And besides, the pull of your voiceFred, it’s like gravity. I could listen to you read shopping lists for the rest of my life.”

Fred chuckled. George pouted adorably.

Fred reached across the table and took Y/N’s hand. “Well,” he said, voice soft, “if you’re not a fan of impromptu twin swaps… how about we make tonight exclusively Fred’s?”

Y/N grinned. “I’d like that.”

George leaned forward. “But I’d really like tomorrow… mind if I crash dinner next time?”

Fred shook his head. “Only if you want group dates like a proper Weasley.”

Y/N looked from Fred to George. “You guys… are hopeless.”

Fred winked. “Hopelessly devoted.”

George saluted. “To you.”

Y/N laughed, squeezing Fred’s hand. “Fine. But just tonight, Fred. Tomorrow, Georgie, you’re on your own.”

George mock-saluted again. “Yes, ma’am.”

Later, outside the pub, Fred walked her home under a starry sky. Y/N nestled into his side.

“You were right,” Fred said softly. “No swapping after dinner.”

She looked up at him. “I know exactly who I love, Fred Weasley.”

He smiled and pulled her close. “And I know exactly who I am.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

George waved from across the street, balancing a trolley of fireworks. He shouted, “Call me if you want a midnight prank partner!”

Y/N laughed. “Maybe tomorrow night, Georgie!”

Fred sighed. “Honestly, George… pick another customer.”

Y/N snuggled closer. “Not happening,” she murmuredthen added with a grin, “but thanks for the offer.”

And as they walked off into the warm glow of Diagon Alley lamps, Fred held her hand a little tighter, while somewhere behind them, George plotted his next comical interventioncontent that for once, at least one Weasley heart was firmly decided.

[girlyidek]

When he looks at you

Pairing - George Weasley x Reader

When George looks at you, he’s a very happy man.

After the war George Weasley found himself doing something he had never tried before. Reflecting. He looked at things now. Really looked at them. Almost dissecting everything that had led to that moment. He questioned everything or almost everything. Not you, never you. You were something he had never once doubted; he merely felt he never needed to. You were a solid, something so real, so perfect, always there for him when he needed it or even when he didn’t.

When he looked at you, he saw so many things. To him you were a goddess, a work of art, an angel, you were everything that was good. He looked at you and saw someone who had never doubted him. Even when he had no faith in himself, which recently he found was far too often, you had always been there to sew him back together, to patch him up any way you could. Sometimes it hurt him to think about all the time you had wasted looking after him, until you looked at him with your soft, doe eyes and everything wrong just seems to melt away.

George knows that you’ve always struggled with the idea that someone could want you with such desperation like he does. Even now, when you’ve been together for more than a decade and have two perfect kids, you can’t understand how you’ve ‘lucked out’. It’s better than it was, of course, years of dedicated loving from your husband had softened your perhaps cruel ideas of yourself. He knows you hadn’t created them by yourself, you’d had all the help when you’d been growing up. Your mother had always had this superficial plan for you. Some unachievable dream of hers, that had led to far too much pressure and far too little support. A suffocating insistence, he was sure, one that would make many go insane. You had carried it well, always wearing the same mask, one that held on tight to all your insecurities, all the small voices telling you that you weren’t enough, that you could never be enough, all hidden beneath a shield.

It was only when you started to get used to George's outspoken displays of love, that your mask started to slip. It was almost as if you had grown bored of trying to perfect. Whenever he had tried to question you on your hiding, he had always been met with lying promises that you were fine.

When George looks at you now, he rarely ever sees that girl anymore. Many say that as they grow older their youthful innocence disappears, but with you, you seem to have grown into your childlike nature, for once letting yourself shed some of the weight. He sees a woman now, who focuses on the good things in life, instead of letting the little inconveniences ruin a day. He knows you still have bad days, he helps pull you through them. Sits with you when you're sad or centers you when you're stressed.

When he looks at your children he sees everything he’s ever needed. He sees you, the perfect mother, everything you had wanted your own to be. You were patient and kind and firm and you had two angels to show for it. He finds that nowadays he doesn't care about the odd tantrum, in fact he quite enjoys the scrunched up frown of your toddler. He can see how they’re thinking, how they’re developing and he loves it. Because when George looks at them he sees you, and when he sees you, well, he’s a very happy man.