George confessing his feelings towards you by accident
This is an early birthday gift to my best friend @snapesdaughsjm, happy birthday bestie<3
It was just another regular evening for George and you. You would cuddle in his bed whilst you read a chosen book of the week, until he falls asleep to the sound of your voice.
This week's chosen book was (imagine any book you wish) getting comfortable on his bed, ready to pick up from where you left off last night
Whilst you wouldn't say it was easy to cuddle with your best friend and watching him fall asleep, you won't deny it's your favourite part of the day. He always look so warm and cuddly, just makes you want to kiss him all over his freckly face. But of course you couldn't, so you stick to reading him a book every night.
Without your knowledge, George had the same thoughts as you. How much he loves the fact that your voice is the last thing he hears before falling asleep close to you.
'' You comfy Georgie? Can I start? '' you asked him. With a small nod of his head, you began reading. The funny thing is, this book was about best friends falling for each other. And another funny thing is, he chose this week's book. If you weren't in such a denial, you would think he's sending you subtle signs about how he feels.
He was on the verge of falling asleep when you heard him mumur something. Gently you asked him to repeat what he just said. '' I love your voice y/n. I love you. '' and with that he fell asleep leaving you completely baffled and shocked. Quietly you got up from his bed, returning to your own dorm. That night you got no sleep, head full of thoughts about did he really mean those words or was he just sleep talking
The next day you barely saw him. Fred and him were always somewhere busy with planning pranks or just making plans about their joke shop they want to open in the future.
Before you even realised, it was time for you to go to George's dorm for your nightly reading. There is no other option for you but to directly ask him if he meant what he said last night or you'd go crazy thinking about it.
Knocking on his door before getting inside, he was already in half sitting position with his back resting on the headboard of the bed. '' Hi love '' he greeted her with a smile. '' Hi Georgie. '' sitting down next to him, you were visibly nervous and George was picking up on that. '' What's wrong? '' his eyebrows furrowed and lines formed in between them. '' I need to talk to you. About something you said last night. '' he looked at you confused. '' What did I say last night? '' '' Well first time I didn't understand you because you mumured it, on the edge of falling asleep. So I asked you to repeat what you just said and you said you love my voice and...that you love me...'' George let out a sigh from his mouth and you knew that those words did not mean anything. '' I guess the cat's out of bag now, huh? It's true. Both of those things. I love your voice and I am in love with you. '' gently taking your hands in his, he looked at you directly in your eyes. '' I've been in love with you for quite some time now. Just never felt like I could tell you and not ruin our friendship. But if you feel the same way, I will truly be the happiest man you've ever seen. '' a big smile was playing on your face as you pulled George in a hug. '' I'm in love with you too. I never thought I'd hear you say those words. '' you stayed like that for a minute or so before he pulled away and pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, whispering in your lips. '' Can we cuddle now properly? I wanna be the small spoon. '' You giggled and nodded your head. '' You can be any spoon you want. '' laid down, George cuddled up with you, his face nuzzled in your neck and arm across your torso holding you tight. Pressing a gentle kiss on his head, you continue reading the book from where you left off. And coincidentally, the characters in the book confessed their feelings as well. How ironic, you thought with a smile on your face.
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What do you mean jkr didn’t tell us Dumbledore was gay in the books? He’s literally a head master
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October 15th. Kinky Halloween Special Masterlist
Kink: Face Sitting
George x Reader.
Warnings: Smut18+, Oral Sex, Fingering.
“So no guy has made you cum?”
My face fills with blush as my eyes land on George.
I shake my head as the room suddenly feels small.
“Huh.” George smirks, his eyes wandering over my body. “Would you like to?”
“What?” The words escape my lips before I have time to comprehend.
George stands from his position on the floor, walking over to me and crouching down in front of my knees.
“Y/n, would you like me to make you cum?”
My breath hitches, a tingle washing over me as his fingertips trail up and down the tops of my thighs, arousal pooling against my panties.
I simply nod my head causing a deep chuckle to rumble through George’s chest.
“I need to hear your words darling.”
George licks his lips, sitting up on his knees as our noses brush together. George smiles before closing the gap between us. Butterflies erupt inside of me at the excitement of kissing my best friend.
His hands massage my thighs, softly tugging on the bottom of my shirt as I pull it from my body. His lips lock onto my cleavage, kissing my breasts and trailing up my neck before locking our lips together.
I gasp into the kiss as his fingers trace small circles on the outside of my underwear. My parted lips allow for George’s tongue to slip into my mouth, rolling against mine, fighting for dominance.
My fingers tug on George’s hair, earning a groan from his lips.
“Do you trust me?”
George quickly shuffles us around, his skillful hands ridding me of my skirt and panties before helping me straddle his waist.
“Uh uh.” His hands hold my hips, pulling me up his body as he wiggles down the bed. His face between my thighs, my hands holding the head board for balance.
“Just relax baby.”
I feel my heart hammering against my chest mainly with a mix of nerves and excitement. When George came into my dorm tonight, I didn’t expect for him to end up inches from my soaking core.
A shiver runs up my spine, my fingers grip the head board tightly as George’s tongue slips past my folds.
He chuckles against my clit before dragging his tongue in circles. I moan at the new feeling, looking down at George, his eyes locked on me, his hands holding my ass as he slowly rocks me back and forth on his tongue. I keep one of my hands on the headboard, the other getting lost in his hair, pulling and tugging as his moans vibrate agaisnt my clit.
“George.” I gasp his name, surprised as he slides a finger inside of me, my walls tight around him as he slips in and out of me. I rock my hips against his tongue, every nudge sending a shock through my body.
George curls his finger inside of me, rubbing against my spongy spot perfectly causing my legs to tense. He grunts at the feeling of my walls tightening, before adding another finger inside of me, I bite my lip to muffling my moans. The amounts of pleasure running through me cause my heart to speed up, my body to fall hot and tingles to run up my spine.
“Just like that.”
George picks up his pace, his tongue lapping up my wetness, his fingers pumping in and out of me with skillful rhythm.
“George, yes, fuck, fuck.” My eyes squeeze shut, my hips falter and my toes curl. George’s hands grip my ass hard, spanking the skin as I cum around his tongue and fingers. He gently swipes his tongue over my clit causing my body to shake as a whimper passes my lips when he pulls his fingers from my pussy.
I move off George, my chest rising and falling as he smiles at me.
“That was incredible.”
He licks his lips, moving closer to me, quickly kissing me as his body cages mine against the bed.
“Now, I want you to see what it feels like to cum in my cock.”
Tags: Add yourself here!
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quote: ‘people are not medicine’ + any character
word count: 0.2k
His tears burnt your skin.
They sunk through the fabric of your shirt as he cried on your shoulder, each pitiful whimper, settling into your bones.
Each whisper of her name, the one that caused this, had you holding back a flinch.
Your hands were on him, his hair, the nape of his neck, his back. They were pulling him closer, but yearning to push him away.
His shoulders shook, you ran your fingers through his hair. He gasped, you consoled. A tear fell down your neck, traveling down your chest and you faintly wondered who it belonged to.
There was a numbness taking over you, your throat clogged with everything you wanted to say. Everything you yearned to say on these particular nights.
Ones where you listened to the boy you loved the most; cry over the girl who kept breaking his heart.
Where his jagged heartbeat was in sync with yours.
And when his eyes ran dry, tears staining his cheeks, he looked up at you.
He looked curious, a wonderment and his own yearning taking over him.
It was probably your kindness, your fingers that assuaged any aches and the way your arms were always available for him.
It had him pressing his chapped lips against yours.
He kissed you like you were the answer to his failed love. Like the taste of your tongue would make him enough. Enough for her.
He kissed you and pulled you closer like you could heal him. Like the press of your lips were the salve to the hurt she caused.
You weren’t though.
You could not fill in the cracks she had left in his heart.
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fifth times the charm (g.w.)
george weasley x reader
summary: the five times you almost kissed george, and the one time you finally did
contains: fluff!!!, mentions of that pen in hbp, lots of pining
notes: this one’s a long one!!! not proofread much whoops. also im reentering my hp phase so maybeeeee more hp content coming 👀 would love to do a hp-related writing challenge for nov/dec!!!
The first time you almost kiss George Weasley, you’re admiring the scenery.
Because Christ, it’s beautiful.
It’s a strange thing to marvel over, you’re aware, but you can’t help it. With the way the sky is lit up with a thousand brilliant lights, the roaring enthusiasm pulsing through the crowd and through your own veins, the myriad of colours that dot the stadium - The 422nd Quidditch World Cup Final is utterly magical.
“Get the buggers!” George roars from beside you, practically leaping out of his seat as he wrings his hands. You chuckle quietly, watching his face contort into an expression of anguish as Bulgaria, to his immense dismay, scores another point.
Your soft sound of amusement does not go unnoticed, because despite the raucous noise all around you, the taller Weasley’s eyes flit over to yours, before a cheeky grin takes over his face. Without warning, he’s pulling you to your feet, eliciting a laugh of pleasant surprise from you.
“Enjoying the game, eh?” He yells, straining to be heard over the cacophony of noise. He grins, positively glowing under the floodlights that illuminate every inch of the large stadium.
You laugh, cupping your hands to shout back, “Moreso enjoying watching you! You’re a sight!”
The tone of your voice is joking, but as you say it, your heart beats a little quicker. Because you do mean it. You would never tell George, or anyone for that matter, but over the 4 years you’ve known the Weasleys, you’ve developed a sort of… little crush on a particular troublemaker. That being him. George Weasley.
So it’s to your surprise that your words have what looks like a soft blush settling on George’s cheeks. He coughs, abruptly turning away from you. He seems to hesitate for a moment, a look of uncertainty and perhaps even nervousness flickering across his face before he musters a brazen smirk, saying proudly, “I know I’m good looking, but really, the most exciting game of the century is happening right in front of you! And you’re staring at me!”
As you break out into laughter, George’s heart swells. The brilliant look of joy on your face is enough to have him smiling as well, unable to stop his heart rate from accelerating tenfold. As if you can hear how fast his heart is beating, you turn to look at him, a small smile on your lips.
His breath hitches, and against his own will, his eyes drop to your lips - And when he looks back up, you’re still smiling, eyes locked on his face, watching him. And it’s then that George notices how you’re close, ever so close, so close that he could almost lean over and just-
An arm jerks him away from you, and George stumbles, eyes wide as Fred shakes him firmly by the shoulders. The grin on his twin’s face is unmistakable, and he can hardly hear him over the explosion of noise from the crowd.
He casts a look to the scoreboard, staring numbly at the green confetti that rains down. The game is over.
Before he can move or even attempt to get back to you, he’s being pulled into an engulfing group hug with Harry, Fred and his father, the three of them jumping up and down, almost drunk on the high of Ireland’s win, while all George can think about is the soft smile on your lips.
He casts a desperate glance over his shoulder, eyes searching the crowd for you, but when you meet his gaze, you duck away.
His heart sinks.
The second time you almost kiss George Weasley is… tense, to say the least.
George Weasley has never been one to fawn over someone. He’s always hidden his feelings behind joking and teasing, choosing to show his affection through harmless pranks rather than passionate gestures.
But you. You make it so difficult for him not to burst out into song and dance like in one of those cheesy Muggle romantic comedies.
“Never reckoned you much for a history person.”
The sudden voice has you jumping, your History of Magic textbook slipping from your hand as you try to catch your breath, glaring at the tall redhead that you somehow hadn’t noticed. He merely sends you a dopey grin, reaching down and handing you your book, bowing as if he had just done you a great service.
“You’d be surprised at how much you don’t know about me, Weasley,” you tease, walking away from him. His footsteps echo through the empty corridors as he rushes to catch up with you (“Rush” being a bit of a stretch - It merely takes him three long strides to reach you).
Deftly placing himself in your path, you sigh in mock exasperation as he takes the books from your arms and sets them aside. With a charming smile on his face, one you cannot help but mirror, George takes your arm and bows, again.
“Well, would you perhaps afford me the great opportunity to learn more? About you?”
If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he almost appeared nervous. But you do know George Weasley, and you know him well enough that the only people he gets even a semblance of anxious around are his mother and Katie Bell, whom you know for a fact that George has a thing for.
Which is why you’d brushed off that little… incident at the World Cup as nothing more than a blip. A one-time moment that meant nothing. At least, to him, no doubt. To you, that moment where your eyes met his and he leant in is one you’ll never forget. The nights you’ve spent imagining what could have happened had the game interrupted are proof of that.
“What do you say?” George grins, stretching out his hand. “Will you allow me a chance to get to know you better?”
You open your mouth to answer, a smile beginning to form on your lips, but before you can even get a word out, a shout of your name cuts through the silence.
Surprised, you turn, only to find yourself face to face with an unknown student from Durmstrang, who has in his hands a box of chocolates and a small bouquet of flowers.
You cast a wild look of askance to George, thinking, that this is just another one of the Weasley’s absurd little pranks. But to your immense surprise, and secret glee, he merely shakes his head, a sour look of what you might indulge in imagining is jealousy passing across his face.
The Durmstrang boy smiles, a large boyish grin as he kneels and offers you the bouquet and chocolates, asking in a thick accent for your company to the Yule Ball.
The show of brazen pursuing has you sending a shocked look of excitement to George, who merely gives you a thin-lipped smile. Mind still reeling, you choose to ignore the burning gaze of the Weasley standing beside you, and graciously accept the Durmstrang boy’s proposal.
His name is Nikola, he tells you, a pleased smile and a soft blush crossing his face as you repeat it slowly back to him. He bids you goodbye with a gentlemanly bow, one much deeper and much more sincere than the mocking one George had given you just moments earlier. You watch him retreat, giggling softly as you watch him silently pump a fist in the air.
“Quite the catch, aren’t you?”
You can’t muster the strength to jab back at him, only able to mutter a quick goodbye as you scamper off to tell Hermione of the news, unaware of George’s wistful gaze on you.
Godric, you look stunning.
As if his feet have a mind of his own, George is moving towards you, noting how you’re quietly watching the couples whirl about on the dancefloor, your own date gone from your side. He’s grateful for that, really, he is - Otherwise he wouldn’t have the courage to face you. Not when you look so beautiful tonight.
Recognising the voice in an instant, you don’t move to look at him, merely nodding and humming in confirmation.
Frankly, you don’t know what you’ll do if you meet his eyes. You can only hope that he hasn’t noticed how your eyes have been searching for him the whole night, regardless of your constant efforts to recentre your attention to your extremely charming date. Thankfully, he’s off getting more punch.
“Where’s your little Durmstrang friend?” George asks, fiddling with the lapel on his coat, trying to get his corsage back in place.
You click your tongue, frustrated by his fidgeting. “He’s at the drink table. Getting more punch,” you mutter, brow furrowed in concentration as you fix his misplaced corsage, then reaching up to straighten his collar. “Merlin, who helped you with your robes? It’s all skewed to one side.”
Satisfied, you proclaim proudly, “All done!” only to have the words die in your throat as you tilt your head up.
The few centimetres between you have you suddenly feeling dizzy, becoming increasingly aware of the compromising position you’ve found yourself in - You, practically pressed up against his chest as his hand brushes against your hip. The scent of his cologne is overpowering, and you feel your heart flutter desperately.
“Are you… Are we…” you trail off, looking up uncertainly at him.
His expression is unreadable as he replies, sounding equally conflicted. “I don’t know. Are we…?”
You jerk back and away from George, reeling back so fast that your back nearly slams into Nikola in the process. He places a steady hand on the small of your back, handing you your cup of punch as you murmur quiet thanks, hurriedly downing the drink to conceal the warmth blooming on your face.
George stands there, his arms now hanging limply at his side. He sends you a tentative smile, nodding to Nikola is polite acknowledgement. “I’ll be going now, then,” he says plainly, his face contorting into a grimaced smile. “I’ll see you around.”
You wave goodbye, as does Nikola, who, upon George’s departure, raises an eyebrow with a sly smile.
“Oh, don’t tease,” you groan, as he laughs.
“You don’t have to pretend,” he responds, “I know you like him. And I am sorry for interrupting.”
Bemused, you shake your head in laughter. “No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, I don’t… like him. Besides, he… He fancies someone else.” At that, you nod towards Katie Bell, who has her arm interlinked with George, laughing happily away. Your heart aches at the sight.
Nikola only snorts. “Please. The way you two look at each other… I assure you, the one he loves is not her.”
It’s shameful, really, how your heart stutters at the word “love”.
The third time you almost kiss George Weasley is perhaps one of the most exhilarating “almost”s in your life.
“Nice one, George, real gentlemanly of you!”
The lake rocks with the force of George’s cannonball, and you shriek as he begins to swim towards you, like a hungry shark on the hunt for his prey.
It’s the summer break, and you’ve managed to find escape from the panic-stricken world outside in these moments at the Burrow with the Weasleys. The lake that sits a mere five-minute walk away from the Burrow proved especially useful on a sweltering day - And so the Weasley’s - Fred, George, Ron, Ginny - and you made the quick trip down for a swim.
“George, George, don’t you dare…!”
A pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, lifting you up a fraction above the water’s surface before letting you slip underwater again. You sputter as you resurface, nevertheless laughing as you chase him around the lake.
“Oi! You two lovebirds! Keep it down, some of us are working on some excellent craftsmanship here!” Fred yells from the shore, currently in the process of building an unnecessarily complicated sandcastle.
George only snorts derisively, shouting back, “Excellent craftsmanship my arse! That looks like shit!”
At that, Fred leaps up, causing you and George to both yelp in laughter, creating a ruckus in the water as you attempt to splash away from the approaching redhead.
As you attempt to run away, giddy with laughter, George wraps his wrist around yours, tugging you forward by the arm. Your breath hitches, and for a split second, you freeze, causing you to slip underwater with a surprised shriek of laughter, pulling George down with you.
There are bubbles all around you, and in the frenzy of moving water, you feel a hand slip around your waist, pulling you towards the boy in front of you. Even in the water, he’s a sight - You can’t help but admire the way his orange locks dance in the water. The way his eyes blink rapidly, squinting to focus on you.
Then he’s moving towards you, and you are him, and it all feels so right, and your foreheads meet, and you move to just kiss him for Christ’s sake-!
All of a sudden your world is spinning, and you’re being forcefully yanked upwards from the water. You sputter, your head pounding as Fred hunches over you, worriedly asking you question after question. You only catch bits of it - something about accidentally kicking you in the head?
You aren’t sure, too focused on George leaping out of the water and rushing over to you - like your own knight in shining armour.
The fourth time you almost kiss George Weasley, you do so in earnest impulse.
You’ve been trying, desperately, to produce your Patronus for the past ten minutes. Nearly everyone else has done it, and despite Hermione’s attempts to comfort you at your struggle, you’re getting increasingly frustrated with yourself.
Which is why when George sidles up to you, eyebrow raised and mouth poised open to no doubt tease you, you merely hold up a hand, causing him to stop in his tracks.
“Don’t start, Weasley,” you warn, recentring your attention to the task at hand. “I have to get it right. I have to.”
“You don’t have to do anything, okay?” He tilts your head up, and you can’t fight the smile that slips onto your face. “Just... C’mon, I’ll help you.”
He places his hands on your hips, guiding you into a firm stance as you raise your wand. His breath, warm and so close a shiver runs up your spine, fans against your neck as you close your eyes.
“Okay, think of your happiest memory.”
“I did,” you groan, “That time at the lake.”
From behind you, he snorts. “That’s your favouirte memory?”
“I don’t know, I just…” you open your eyes, turning to him with a look of exasperation on your face. “I don’t have one specific memory… It’s more of… a collection of them, I suppose.”
He raises an eyebrow, nodding understandingly, suddenly serious. “Okay. Why don’t you focus on that feeling, alright? Think about what makes that collection of memories so treasured, alright? Now, go on. I believe in you.”
The praise has your heart swelling, and you squeeze your eyes shut once more. Slowly, the feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist still there and firm, you inhale and imagine all the times you spent laughing with him. The euphoria that floods your system each time he cracks up at your jokes, each time you are the cause for his happiness.
And you whisper those two words, and open your eyes.
“Merlin’s beard, you did it!” George exclaims.
And you did.
A stunningly majestic eagle soars through the room, swooping and doing tricks as people laugh and watch. All the while, you’re distracted, being twirled around in George’s arms as he lauds you in praises and gushes of admiration.
“Knew you could do it, I knew you could!” He says with a dazzling grin, placing you down as you laugh, giddy with excitement and pure glee.
Tentatively, almost hesitantly, he reaches an arm up and brushes your cheek gingerly with his thumb. You force back a shudder, instead looking up into his eyes, a familiar feeling of deja vu rushing back to you.
A smile tugs at his lips, and you swear to yourself that this is the one, this is the moment where you kiss George Weasley, but just as your lips are about to meet, a body collides with yours, sending you tumbling to the ground.
“Blimey, Neville!” George practically groans in frustration, helping you to your feet. Your face burns in humiliation, and you quickly murmur a quiet apology to Neville, who is apologising profusely to both you and George, before slipping quietly and hastily out of the room.
Leaving George, once again.
You haven’t spoken a word to George since then.
After that… incident, you did your best to avoid him - Which should have proved to be considerably difficult given that you share a House and a bloody common room with him. And that you’re best friends with his brother.
But strangely enough, you’ve hardly caught sight of the lanky Weasley this past week. Though, you have been busy. The arrival of Umbridge, that cursed pink nightmare, has brought with it seemingly twice the amount of workloads per class and almost triple the amount of stress.
Evidently, this new shift in school atmosphere has affected the twins as well - the number and frequency of their “attacks” around the school have only increased since Umbridge’s crackdown on the place. Each time she introduces yet another variably unreasonable “rule” of hers, a prank of heightened explosivity erupts and shakes the school.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the look of horror on Umbridge’s face each time she discovers yet another one of their mischievous acts of rebellion.
“C’mon, just talk to him, will you?” Ron complains. “He’s been talking my ear off about how much he misses you and whatnot, and I can’t stand another minute of it!”
To your surprise, Hermione turns to you, a knowing glint in her eye. “You know, and I hate to say this, but I agree with Ron.”
You balk, mouth ajar. “Hermione! I thought you were on my side!”
“I don’t take sides, you know that,” she says, nudging you with a growing smile on her face as she sings teasingly, “Besides, I think someone’s watching you!”
You whip around, following her gaze to none other than George Weasley.
As your eyes meet his, he straightens up almost immediately. You quirk an eyebrow as he fumbles to place his cutlery down, before sending you a beaming smile and an eager wave. The clumsiness has you foolishly giggling, despite yourself. That only serves to make the grin on his face wider.
And so, for the first time in months, you smile back at him.
The look of surprise and glee on his face is priceless.
When you turn back to your friends, they’re all staring at you expectantly, causing you to gasp in mock affrontment. “Alright, now all three of you are ganging up against me! I have done nothing wrong!”
“Sure, but it is driving all of us crazy,” Harry says, raising an eyebrow. “You have no idea how long George can go on and on about you. He’s mad for you!”
“Alright, well, what do you expect me to do about it?” You splutter. While you try not to show it, the knowledge that George talks about you, and does so incessantly at that, makes your heart race to no end.
Ron looks up, waving his fork about. “For one, you could talk to him.”
“Goodness, Ron, please do not ever speak whilst chewing again,” Hermione makes a face, reaching up to dab at his face with a napkin, fussing over him. You send a look to Harry, who merely chuckles into his pumpkin juice.
“You should talk to him, you know,” Hermione says, pulling away from Ron, who stares after her in askance. “Goodness knows it’d help clear all that tension between you two.”
You cross your arms, frowning. “There isn’t any tension. And you know what? I will. I will talk to him.”
“Thank Godric for that,” Ron mumbles, already continuing to shovel food into his mouth, much to Hermione’s exasperation.
You slyly cast a look at the redhead in question, watching with your heart in your throat as he throws his head back and roars with laughter.
When you said you’d talk to George, this was not at all what you’d meant.
Hunched over and sobbing quietly into his shoulder as he cradles your arm, silently patching your freshly-carved wound up, is not what you intended to happen.
You were on your way back from a DADA meeting, having felt rather ill suddenly. Admittedly, it was foolish of you to be wandering around the castle, alone, when Umbridge was practically hunting down DADA members. But that had totally slipped your mind, consumed by the rising wave of nausea that had overcome you.
So when none other than Pansy Parkinson found you roaming the corridors, almost keening in pain, Umbridge had no problem pinning you as a DADA member. She was right, of course, but you weren’t about to let her have the satisfaction.
Ultimately, she had no real proof that you were apart of the Association, so she had no choice but to let you go - though not unharmed.
The horrible raw inking on your right arm, spelling out in your jagged, hesitant scrawl the words “I will behave”, still burns, an hour later.
Thankfully, George had caught you as you were stumbling, vision blurred with tears and arm rendered practically useless thanks to the pain, through the corridors. And he had done his best - he was doing his best - to heal the wound with magic, but either the damage was too extensive or that blasted Umbridge had placed some sort of magic-resistant charm on it.
Either way, you refused to visit Madam Pomfrey, so George resorted to his limited but sufficient knowledge of non-magical first aid skills to help.
“I’d kill her if I could” he growls, moving to kneel before you. His is voice low and gruff as he angrily rips off a strip of fabric from his shirt, much to your protest. “Don’t worry about my shirt, just worry about yourself and what I’m going to do to that detestable pink monstrosity.”
Unable to do anything but sit there, your eyes roam the expanse of George’s face with a soft smile. At your silence, his gaze returns to you, and his lips quirk up, a soft pink hue dusting across his cheeks once he finds that you’ve been staring.
“What’re you doin’?”
“Just admiring, that’s all,” you murmur back.
An equally tender look slips over his face, and his calloused palm, worn from years of Quidditch and endless scraps with his brother, cups your cheek. Your face heats up as his thumb brushes away stray tears forming, and you laugh breathlessly.
He tilts his head, a curious smile on his face. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, just… this happens to us a lot, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose it does,” he chuckles, “Maybe this’ll be it, hmm?”
You smile, pressing your forehead to his. “Maybe.”
But alas, fate has other plans.
A distant meow has George leaping up and away, hurriedly helping you to your feet. “C’mon, it’s Filch. We gotta get out of here,” he curses, wrapping an arm around you protectively as the two of you run down the corridor back to the Gryffindor common room, both your hearts beating a thrilling rhythm.
And so the fifth time you almost kiss George Weasley comes and goes.
The castle is exploding.
No, really, it is. Inside the classrooms, within its century-old walls, fireworks are going off in a dazzling display of colours. Students and teachers alike are streaming out of their classes and into the halls, flooding the courtyard as above you, Fred and George Weasley soar.
They’ve done it. The grinning bastards, they’ve done it.
In perhaps the greatest feat they’ve ever managed in the course of their time at Hogwarts, they’ve managed to not only put on the most amazing and breathtaking prank of all time, really, but they’ve also sparked a certain emotion that has been quelled at Hogwarts for so long - Excitement.
You laugh in pure, unbridled delight at the dumbfounded look on Umbridge’s face, heart tugging at the radiant grin on George’s face. From beside you, Ron whoops, pumping his fist in the air.
That gets George’s attention.
In an instant, the crowd is parting and he’s swooping down on his broomstick, stopping right in front of you. The beaming grin on his face is a sight to behold, and he takes your hand in his.
“Here we are again,” he says softly, a faint smile on his face. “Not going to run away from me now, are you?”
You chuckle, shaking your head. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Faintly from behind you, you can hear Umbridge shrilly screaming something along the lines of, “Come back here!”
But who cares. You’re a girl in love with a boy. And it’s the best thing that could ever happen to you.
“Shall we?” He asks, a gallant grin on his face.
You take his hand, and he helps you onto the broom, just as Umbridge catches up to you. She shrieks in frustration, but you’re long gone, the explosion of colour behind you painting the sky and George in a breathtaking myriad of colours.
“George,” you whisper, and he turns, looking at you with so much love and admiration in his eyes that you can’t help but tear up.
And you don’t even have to say anything for his lips to be on yours.
And that is how you finally kissed George Weasley.
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for what it's worth | george weasley smut
pairing: george weasley x fem!reader
warnings: it’s smut. it’s nsfw. it has voyeurism, innocence kink, and george weasley.
prompts: "do i look like i'm messing around?" "no. but soon we'll be,"
a/n: all characters here are 18+ for me. in this fic, hogwarts education started at 14.
summary: george fabian weasley was the epitome of annoyance. true to its connotation, it was one of the things that y/n despised when it came to the [in]famous ginger twin.
"Weasley, I don't understand what you think of an assigned pair project is, but for the love of Merlin, please just help me on this!" Y/N whisper-yelled, pleading at the Gryffindor who was pushing her on the edge just by simply ignoring her at dinner in the Great Hall.
Fred looked at Y/N then at George, clearly amused at the never ending spite and tension between his twin and the [Y/H] lady. He never knew how it exactly started. Or maybe Fred did. He would never hear the end of how George thought Y/N was a stuck-up brat in Charms, and Fred guesses it was that bad considering how George said that Hermione couldn't even compare.
"Bloody mad that lass is, I'm telling you," George muttered as he played with a box in his hand, subconsciously thinking of a possible prank that he could muster with the box.
Fred chuckled, waving his hand in revision for Charms one Saturday afternoon since he was amused at George and Y/N's excessive bickering in the class last Thursday. "Do remind me why you hold such prejudice against Y/N?"
"Ah," George tutted, moving his legs out of its position on the couch to face Fred who was perpendicular to him. "No, no, you've got it wrong, dear brother." He started
His twin hummed, urging him to continue. "I don't hold 'such prejudice'," he air-quoted, "I actually despise her, everything she does is basically a disdain to my set of virtues and principles."
"Why do you have a set of virtues and principles?"
"I don't exactly have them," George retorted. "I just exaggerated for the sake of putting how much I hate her in wordings."
All George received was a side-eye and an amused chuckle, it was as if George knew what Fred was thinking as his eyes widened in response, and immediately went defensive over the possibility.
"Piss off, Fred."
"Oi! I wasn't even saying anything!"
"No, no, your body language says everything."
"Well, yours do too whenever Y/N is near. I say, shag it out. See a possible romance, now you could talk Y/N's ear off about Y/N herself."
Y/N turned to look at Fred with her eyes squinted and brows furrowed. Fred made a mocking face of defence while raising both of his hands up, leaving the matter to Y/N who was sure she could rip George's hair out of his head.
"Bloody hell, George Weasley!" Y/N slammed her hands on the table, infuriated. At this point, her action may have been successful since George had already spared her a glance, and of course, a grin.
Y/N groaned, moving slightly at George's line of focus. "George Weasley, I know you care less about Charms because you'll do amazing at it with little to no effort, but will you please just help me on the assigned work?!"
"You flatter me too much, Y/L/N," he smirked, leaning his head on the palm of his hand, eyeing the frustrated [Y/H] right in front of him. "Whatever way I could help you, madame?" he taunted, his playful persona never leaving him.
Best believe Y/N had to contain her anger in a way she knows how to – taking a deep breath. "Just show up in the library for once and I might reconsider giving you points for collaboration. If you don't show up tonight, I'll tell Professor Flitwick and I'll be making sure you'll receive the bid of my sympathy since you won't be able to do O.W.Ls."
"Oh, but I don't need O.W.Ls for my future profession, Y/N. Thank you for the concern, though. Well appreciated."
"Weasley," Y/N warned, making George laugh in response. "Alright, fine. I'm going after eating these mushy peas, is that alright with you? Or am I not allowed to eat these mushy peas with my remaining fish and chips?"
Y/N groaned and rolled her eyes. "No, take your bloody time," she sent him a tight-lipped smile, but faltering in her annoyance as she may or may not have received a wink from George, who now turned to his plate of mushy peas and returned to his conversation with Fred and Lee.
She was sure she was winked at. But of course, Y/N couldn't dwell on the thought. Instead of thinking of it, she shook her head and made her way to the library with doubts whether George'll be coming and help her. Nonetheless, Y/N had already been rehearsing her line to Professor Flitwick. That was, until, after moments of stalling and deciding not to bail on her already and just this once, George had already found her in the farthest table at the library with her head tucked behind her behind her folded arms. He rolled his eyes and made his way to her, poking her arm with the tip of his wand.
Y/N grumbled in response and hoisted her head, eyes squinting from a quick snooze. She was met with the towering figure of George Weasley. And while most of the times she didn’t care how she looked like, she became self-conscious on how she may be having drooling in her sleep.
“And here I was thinking you’d be ninety-nine percent finished.”
George took the seat opposite her. His eyes glued to the parchment after parchment which was partially filled with her handwriting. The ginger Gryffindor might have felt tad bit guilty, but he wouldn’t dare apologise to her, no, not to Y/N.
It may have been completely done, if it weren’t for George’s intermittent attention span that always seemed to stall work since he always had to rise up from the table to find a book that just popped randomly in his thoughts.
Also, he may have been doing this on purpose. From time to time, he would take a glance at Y/N and take note on how her aura expresses stress and frustration over the assigned work. George can’t help but feel sorry, now more then ever, to the [Y/H] that he had left alone for the majority of the project.
Though, in his defence, he could just fail Charms just because of this than be paired with her; he wouldn’t like the thought of also bringing her down just because of his pride that never seem to falter whenever it was Y/N he was being dealt with.
So, when Y/N had pushed the parchment to him in a sheepish manner, somehow telling him to answer the sections she had left blank because she was unable to answer it, George have not hesitated in grabbing the sheet, his train of thought regarding Y/N halting to focus on each question Y/N knew he deemed easy. George was skilled at Charms, anyway.
Now, it was Y/N’s turn to look at George while he was preoccupied. Y/N couldn’t help herself but admit that while George annoys her to an infinite extent, he was an attractive lad - a hot one, at that. Specifically, her type.
If only George had been nicer to her like his twin brother, Fred, she would’ve made a move on him. Not that she would do, though. However, she couldn’t even tell of the probability.
“You got a question wrong,” George said, snapping her out of her thoughts that, with only a few more seconds of staring, would have been tainted with impurity.
“What?” she whispered, she furrowed her eyebrows and leaned forward to George, making him swoon almost instantly to the faint scent of oak and bergamot, a scent that confirmed to George that it was indeed Y/N whom he smelt of in his Amortentia.
She leaned back, meeting George at eye level, and she couldn’t help but notice how his eyes had increasingly darkened the longer they stared at each other’s eyes.
“There’s nothing wrong in what I’ve wrote!”
“Yeah, there is. You’ve wronged the arm motion description for Entrancing Enchantment. It should be should be clockwise, not counterclockwise.”
“Well, you’re already on it, aren’t you?”
“I’m just pointing it out so that you’ll never get it wrong next time.”
“Yeah, I won’t be needing it anyway. Besides, this isn’t even in the O.W.Ls.”
“You might be needing it in case you like someone and they don’t like you back. However, we might be brewing love potions.”
“Love potions? From you, Weasleys? I’d rather die alone.”
George chuckled, “Your hand isn’t enough to suffice everything you need, you know.”
Y/N met his gaze and shuffled slightly on her seat. Heart beating loudly at the sudden suffocating tension in the rather spacious section in the library.
“Do I look like messing around with you?”
“No,” he smirked, head ducking down to turn his gaze on the parchment, writing over Y/N’s handwriting to correct the mistake. “But soon, we’ll be.” He looked up at Y/N to wink, quickly looking back at the parchment yet again as quickly as he could.
Y/N muttered a cuss word towards George. Trying to alleviate any change of atmosphere that she couldn’t decide whether she likes it or - well, she likes it. She just got caught herself in a situation she knew she wasn’t well-experienced. Considering how she had never been in a relationship before, though she had her first kiss already, she doesn’t even know if that counts considering it was just a peck.
Nonetheless, all Y/N could think of was the augmenting dampness between her thighs. As much as she wants to just not mind it, her constant fidgeting was one key teller and she prays to each existing deity for George to be unable to notice her sudden silence and stiff stature.
As if her prayers were answered given the continued silence, and as George answered the last question in such drawl, it had given Y/N the opportunity to daydream of obscene scenarios with George inside her head.
And it nearly kills Y/N on the spot as George placed his quill down to look at Y/N with his chin on his hand, finger drumming on it. “Am I wrong for assuming that I am consuming your thoughts at the moment?”
“I - uh, what?”
“You’ve been staring at me for quite a long time now, Y/N. If I had been quite the smug one, I would’ve said you’ve been thinking of me fucking you.”
Y/N blushed as she timidly shifted in her seat, and even though she wants to strip away her gaze from the intense scare she’s receiving from George, she couldn’t do it no matter how much every fibre in her body’s been dying to do so.
They’ve stayed like that, really. George testing the waters and Y/N holding herself back from jumping on George. That, or maybe Y/N just wants George to take the lead since she was new to all these things.
"Oh, darling," George drawled. "Tell me to stop and I will."
That was all she got from George, to which she nodded to. And when she met the stern look from George, she had muttered a soft 'yes.' George, on the other hand, had already ducked under the table [rather swiftly] after purposefully dropping his quill on the floor.
He shrugged and made his way to Y/N's tightly clamped legs to which George had eased in loosening from tension by rubbing his hands on it in such a delicate manner. He peeked up to see Y/N already staring down at him.
George swears his cock had already started growing in size as he looked up at Y/N's lustful and anticipating look. "Tell me, love," he said as he kissed her knee, smirking at the slight jerk of her right leg. "How do you want it? Slow?" he asked, pushing her legs slowly apart, kissing the inside of her thighs as he enjoys each squirm.
"Rough?" he continued, biting then on the skin, Y/N lightly squealing which made him squeeze her thighs. "Hush, now, love." he winked at her. "We wouldn't want anyone to know your enemy is going down on you right?"
"Though," George smirked. "I do like me some audience."
Y/N let out a shaky breath. Frustrated over the idea that George has only done very little and yet she was already very putty in his caress. "George, I –" she started as George switched from biting to sucking, kissing to licking the inside of her thighs, as if he was anticipating for an answer to her previous question.
At this point Y/N was already pooling in her underlinen, and even though she just wants to shove her throbbing pussy towards George's face, she had to answer his question truthfully.
"George," she whispered, meeting his eyes. "I - I haven't done this before."
"You mean, you haven't -"
"Not even touch yourself?"
"I don't know what pleases me."
George groaned at the thought of him having to teach Y/N about the world of intimacy - if she'll have him, of course. His thoughts were running wild at the thought of just being between her thighs which he may have imagined coming on every once so often.
"Do you want to know how?"
"For what it's worth, Georgie, please just -" she managed to cut herself off as she leaned down a bit to cup his left cheek in such frustration and anticipation, "Just do whatever you like, just touch me."
Y/N was desperate. And George was, too. That's why when he heard the words of approval from her, he had tried not to take her in the table right there at the moment.
Instead, with new information in such intimate manner, George decides not to push things farther from what he thinks Y/N should know of the moment. He continued with kissing the insides of her thighs, with his hands creeping at her arse to take a hold of it as his mouth neared her core.
George took his time, much to Y/N's dismay at some point. But she knew less than George, so she let him be.
His fingers played with her underwear as he kissed her clothed cunt, lapping as though the piece of fabric was the appetiser to the main meal. Y/N gasped, unfamiliar to the sensation that was happening on her dripping pussy.
"Oh, fuck," she managed to choke out, bringing her hand to clasp over her mouth. Extremely lost in the bliss, George had managed to slip down her underwear down to her ankles without Y/N knowing much.
Sensually, George placed a light kiss on her clit [as Y/N assumes], making her audibly gasp and close her eyes. George smirked, knowing he had found in such instant where to pleasure her.
He pushed her legs farther, licking ever so intimately the slit of her dripping core. Tongue flat and warm, Y/N was sure that with such tension and such sinful, minimal act from George, she could be coming within seconds.
"Taste so fucking good, flower," he winked, using his left hand to spread his cunt widely and his right wrangling over her right thigh to keep her still. "Be a good girl for Georgie and keep quiet, yeah?"
Y/N hadn't even got the chance to answer before George had decided to lap on her pussy in an instant. With the lips being spread open by his left hand, George had been hitting the spots Y/N have never dared to let herself travel to.
Kissing, sucking, and licking, Y/N was trying her very hard not to make a noise, resorting to tightly-closed eyes and hardly-bitten fist. She had been giving out slight squeals, making her squeal higher and slightly louder when George warned her about her volume through sucking or biting her labia.
"Oh, my - fuck, George!" she whispered. Her hands moving faster than her mind, as she took a hold of George's ginger hair and pulled him to her pussy closer, to which George groaned in response.
George's right hand reached for Y/N's left hand that was holding on to the edge of her seat for dear life. He intertwined their hands while staring at the beauty that was Y/N, subconsciously not believing how he was the one making her feel good - the first, at that.
His left hand which was opening Y/N had left from its stagnant position, only to push the first two fingers inside of her, with Y/N drawling out a moan and almost sliding off her chair from pleasure.
From two fingers to three, Y/N was positive that she had been feeling rather tingly at the pit of her stomach. And George, having felt her walls clench around his fingers, went to full feral mode.
He instantly quickened his fingering while simultaneously lapping over her clit, as he locked his half-lidded eyes with that of her's who resembled such lust and pleasure.
"That's right, love, come for me." He managed to groan out, spitting on her cunt only to eat out with much more determination than before. "George, ah! What the fuck!" Y/N cried out, hips rolling to George's mouth out of instinct.
"Don't think too much, let your body take control, darling."
"George, please, let me -" she cut herself as she opened her mouth without any moans coming out, eyes closing in the process. Her vocabulary and usually formal composure at the intense euphoria George had been giving her.
"Keep your eyes open and look at me when you cum, baby."
And that was it really, it was if something had snapped in her and she could hear George's string of cuss words as he gawked at the cum dripping on hands.
After Y/N had relieved from her high, George had already lunged himself forward to lick her cum off from her, as Y/N winced from overstimulation.
"Just cleaning you out, love."
George wiped his mouth using the back of his hand, and when he brought his fingers for him to suck on, he met Y/N's curious eyes and he moans at the thought of corrupting her innocence.
"You taste so good, Y/N," he whispered. "So," he started kissing her thighs as he bit her underwear playfully as he pulled it upwards using his teeth.
"Fucking," he said as he intertwined his right hand yet again with Y/N's, left hand reaching over to her chest to squeeze one breast. "Good." he winked as he retracted from his position, taking a hold of his quill to sit back where he first sat before the situation.
"Y - you," Y/N started, panting heavily still, "We still have another task to work on." she blushed at her statement, harder when George laughed at what she said.
George ruffled his hair a bit. "Oh, darling," he smiled, fixing his uniform and getting a hold of the parchment. "We still haven't answered the next part, though it's more on practicals." He smirked.
He went over to Y/N and leaned over just beside her ear. "I'll be in my dorm." Winking afterwards.
It was definitely worth it.
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Can you expand more the Slytherin niece/nephew ask? How would George react? Ginny? Molly and Arthur? Bill and Fleur?
Anon is referring to this post. The ask being what would happen if one of the golden trio's kids was sorted into Slytherin and how Harry, Hermione, and Ron deal with that. The answer is not well.
With that, let's get the extended family.
Well, I imagine George is still a mess over Fred's death. True, he's married now, he owns the shop but that was the business he started with his brother, his brother was his best friend, and his entire identity revolved around being Fred's twin George.
This is a George, who as an adult outside of the school environment, has to find out who he is and how to navigate this world without Fred at his side.
I imagine that's a hugely daunting task for him. He didn't just lose a brother and a friend, he lost himself.
Ron's kid got sorted into Slytherin? That blows, but George has a business to run and memories to not think about. He probably pats the kid on the shoulder, says something like "You're a good kid" and continues to be the dazed, somewhat sad, and kind of stand-offish Uncle George he's always known.
George isn't all that bad about it but he's not much of a pillar of support either.
Ginny's a lot like Ron. Everyone in the family's always been Gryffindor and she takes the sorting hat very seriously. Slytherin's the place for the likes of Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Tom Riddle. Good kids don't prize cunning and ambition above everything else.
I imagine she tries to do an intervention on the kid. Too late to get them sent to a different house, but Ron, we need to talk about your kid here. I imagine she rallies the family to do an intervention for the poor eleven-year-old where they try to get the kid to admit he has severe psychological issues and he's very sorry and won't do it again.
That's not really good enough though and Ginny side-eyes the kid for the rest of their lives. Ron doesn't blame her, he really wishes it wasn't his kid.
Molly and Arthur Weasley
They wonder where they went wrong.
Everyone in the family's always been a Gryffindor on both sides. Their family values are strongly in support of Gryffindor and always have been. Gryffindor traits are what they, as a family, prize above all others. Even Percy, bless his heart, while ambitious is not a Slytherin.
They're all Gryffindors to their core.
What went wrong with this one?
It's the subject of many late night discussions between the pair, wondering why they didn't see the signs, if it's already too late or if they can't intervene on the poor kid.
I imagine Molly calls up Harry/Ginny and or Ron/Hermione to lecture them on their parenting skills. Clearly, they're instilling the wrong values in their children and they need to know how to do it right.
Bill and Fleur Weasley
Fleur doesn't get the point of this. This all seems very dramatic and silly over a hat. At Beauxbatons, their houses are picked at random, like sane people. And they certainly don't have this obsession years after the fact, for the rest of their lives, over whether they're a mole or a wombat or whatever the hell it even is.
Fleur goes out of her way to be extra nice to the kid to a) piss off Molly b) because this family's insane and what they're doing is terrible.
Bill is aghast and tries to correct Fleur's understanding of why this is a big deal. He can't articulate it, but trust him, Fleur, this is a very big deal!
Bill though, is trapped between a rock and a hard place of his family and his wife (as usual). On the one hand, Fleur is judging him very harshly for not being the nicest man on the planet to his nephew/niece who was sorted into Slytherin. On the other hand, his family judges him if he even smiles at the kid. Bill ends up deciding on a lukewarm acceptance, which is more than everyone else gives the kid.
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Percy: Now that I am done with homework I can reward myself with hallucinations induced by ink on dead trees.
Oliver: Reading. He’s just- Look, he just read through a book as thick as a bludger for an essay and he rewards himself with even more reading!
Percy: But that was for school! Now is time for mystery crime!
Oliver: Rhyming won’t make this better either.
Fred: Bro, that’s the other side of crazy.
George: Far far off.
Percy: Well, that’s my extreme sport, alright!? You do quidditch and I read.
Fred: It’s not like you could get hurt doing it…
George: Paper cuts don’t count.
Percy: Excuse me, didn’t you see my need for glasses? That’s how extreme I am.
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Kinktober Day 17 - George Weasley
Pairing: George x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Minors, DNI! This contains vaginal sex and choking!
Tags: @feltondarling @pandaxnienke @raerae27 @hufflrpuffforfred @theweasleysredhair @dracoswhore007 @amourtentiaa @lexymoniqu @p0tat0nug @levylovegood@mischiefisbeingmanaged @littleweaslette @inglourious-imagines @darthwheezely @rosaliepostsstuff @hufflepuff-babe @frecklesandfirecrackers @prismarts @thisismysketchbook @freds-slut @izzyyy-1 @gwhogwartslover @rqmanoff @amarabln @omghufflepuff @jorduhnn @edithreads @hey-kenna @weasleyhargreeves11 @haroldpotterson @fancy-pantaloons @fand0mskullfa1ry @rainmaybank @nevilles-top @somwhereonlyweknow@hpslutt (If your name is crossed out I couldn’t tag you!)
“George, please,” Y/N begs breathily as George fucks her, her hips lifting off of the bed to meet each of his movements. She can feel the familiar pressure building up in her core as her orgasm approaches, her cunt throbbing from how good George’s cock feels as he fucks her - but she’s just so close to cumming and there’s just one more thing she needs to push her over the edge into an earth shattering orgasm.
George’s hand around her neck.
It’s something she’s been thinking about for weeks. Fantasizing about what it would feel like to have his large, strong hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing until her breath was cut off and she cums around his cock. She hasn’t told George about her fantasies, or about how just the thought of his hand squeezing her neck has her panties damp, afraid that he may think of her differently if she voices her darkest desires.
But she’s so close and has been craving it for so long that Y/N no longer has the willpower to keep it to herself.
“Please what, baby?” George responds, slamming his hips into Y/N’s to make her moan louder. “I’ll give you whatever you want, just gotta be a good girl and ask for it.”
“Choke me,” she rasps, wanting to get it out before she decides against it. To her surprise George’s rhythm does not falter, and he presses her down into the mattress harder as he fucks her roughly.
“Yeah? You want me to wrap my hand around that pretty little neck and squeeze until you’re cumming around my cock?” George pants, using the tips of his fingers to lightly brush down her windpipe.
“Please,” she begs, cunt clenching around his cock as her body shivers from his light touch. Y/N gasps as George wraps his hand around her neck, moaning at how good the weight of him feels around such a sensitive area. He hasn’t even started squeezing yet and her body is already alight with pleasure. “Please, George.”
Not wanting to make her wait any longer, George squeezes the sides of Y/N;s throat lightly, waiting for her reaction before going any further. His cock twitches at the delighted moan that leaves her mouth, and he immediately applies more pressure, watching how glassy her eyes become as she struggles to take a full breath.
Y/N can feel herself go lightheaded from all of the pleasure coursing through her body, her throat feeling as if it’s on fire from the heat of George’s hand. All it takes is one more hard squeeze around her neck to push Y/N over the edge. Her whole body trembles as she cums, her cunt pulsing around George’s cock.
He keeps his hand around her throat as he cums, just barely applying any pressure to help her through her own climax. The rhythm of his hips stutters as he cums, his cock twitching his release and his back muscles rigid from the shocks of pleasure zipping up and down his spine.
They both breathe heavily as they come down from their highs, and as soon as George releases Y/N’s neck he leans down to press kisses against the imprints his hand left behind.
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Made for You // George Weasley
Request: Could you do the prompt “they stand next to each other without even thinking about it” with George Weasley please?! :) - anon
A/N: I love this request so much, I think this is so cute. Thank you so much for requesting!! I won’t be very active over the next three/four days due to a trip I’m taking so forgive my absence! Please like/comment and reblog - feedback is always appreciated!
Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: fluff, weddings, battle of Hogwarts, time skips, humour, light angst, mentions of food and drink, triwizard tournament.
Word count: 1.6k
The Black Lake, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scottish Highlands
The murky waters of the Black Lake had offered nothing since the Triwizard Champions sank below its depths close to fifteen minutes ago. Dumbledore had said the word ‘go’ and all four teenagers leapt into the water; focused solely on being the first to surface with whatever treasure was promised by their golden eggs.
Your stomach churns in time with the dank water; mind running a thousand miles a minute as you think of what Harry must be experiencing. His announcement as Triwizard Champion had come as a shock to those closest to him; he maintained his innocence, he was not the one to pout his name into the cup, and you believed him wholeheartedly.
Gripping the wooden railing of the audience stand, you lean further over, desperate to try and catch a glimpse of the teenager who had become close to a little brother for you.
“Any news?” A familiar voice sounds to your right.
Silently, you shake your head. “Nothing for fifteen minutes. 45 left to go.”
“He’ll be fine,” George reassures, his arm settling over your shoulders, squeezing you close.
“He’s fourteen years old,” You lament, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth as you think of the added stress piled on top of Harry’s shoulders.
“You’ll see,” George promises. “He’ll be fine.”
“You have to say that,” You argue, throwing George an exasperated look. “You were taking bets earlier.”
George has the decency to look sheepish. “For Harry to win,” He protests.
You shake your head, turning your attention back to the dark waters of the lake, doing your best not to think of the horrors Harry must be facing this very minute.
The remaining minutes of the hour pass with reassurances muttered by George; his arm fixed around your shoulder anchoring you to reality, not letting you slip into anxious fantasies conjured by your mind when you think of the depths of the lake.
Applause rises from the gathered students; starting slowly but rising to its crescendo as the champions make their way back to dry land one by one. Fleur surfaces first; the stress of the challenge too much. Viktor then Cedric follow – each one with their treasure, someone who means something to them. Viktor directs Hermione back to the stand; Cedric does the same with Cho.
The large clock continues to tick away, each movement of the hand a reminder that Harry hasn’t made it back. “Where is he, George?” You ask, knowing that the redhead would still be by your side. You had always gravitated towards each other.
“It won’t be long,” George promises, but even he is finding it hard to keep the worry out of his voice.
As the words leave his mouth, a roar sounds from the audience. Gryffindors begin to yell, cheering the name of the young teenager. Something in your chest loosens at the sight of the black-haired boy being wrapped in towels by his best friends. Your first free breath passes your lips as your shoulders sag in relief.
“See?” George whispers, his lips close to your ear. “What did I say? He’s fine.”
Leaning into the redhead’s side, you smile up at him. “Yeah,” You smile. “He’s fine.”
The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon
Despite the crowd gathered in the tent, you barely felt the pressure of them all. Good wishes were shouted across the tent to the newly married couple; Bill and Fleur accepting them all graciously with a smile and a nod of their heads. Laughter runs through the crowd, just as much as the drinks flow did the laughter grow.
Bill and Fleur remain on the dance floor long after their first dance; they remain wrapped in each other as other couples are welcomed onto the floor. You stand at the side of the dancefloor, one arm draped across your stomach as you nurse a glass of champagne – your first and your last, the bubbles far too much.
Music fills the tent, swelling the walls with its upbeat tempo and crooned lyrics. For those on the floor, it is clearly a beloved song. Smiles light up faces as many a wizard sing the lyrics to their partner – words of love being the theme of the night.
Yearning begins to fill you, starting deep within your gut before filling your chest with such an urge that it knocks the breath out of you. you stand on the side of the dancefloor, breathless at the sheer want spreading through your body. As you continue to watch the couples on the floor, it surprises you how much you want to be a part of it – how much you want to be spun around, how much you want to share secret smiles and lingering kisses with someone who loves you just as much as you love them.
You feel his presence before you see him. Every inch of you stands to alert as you feel the redhead sidle up to your right, settling in his place next to you. “How did you find me?” You question, a smile curling your lips.
“I’ll always know how to find you,” comes the reply. The gravelly tone to his voice combined with the romantic air of the evening sends a shiver down your spine, eliciting goosebumps across your skin.
“She looks beautiful,” You murmur, eyes fixed on Fleur as she spins across the dancefloor, safely wrapped in Bill’s arms.
“Yes,” George answers, his eyes fixed on you. “She looks beautiful. Would you care to dance?”
“With me,” George clarifies, his all too familiar touch wrapping around your waist, pulling you into his left side as if it were your home.
“Okay,” You whisper, lifting your head to face him. “I’ll dance with you.”
The Battle of Hogwarts, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scottish Highlands.
Chaos. Little else could describe the scenes witnessed tonight.
The crowd gathered in the Great Hall made you nervous, it made your skin itch to the point where you simply left without saying a word, needing to leave the room and find somewhere quieter to collect your thoughts.
It doesn’t take you very long to find somewhere; an abandoned classroom for what subject you couldn’t tell. The air is cool against your heated skin as you settle onto one of the many desks.
The night had been long and full of horrors. Now, with Voldemort defeated, there was a chance of resurrecting a world with less prejudice, but such a thing would take time especially the healing after tonight. Too many had been lost; too many had been children.
Sighing shakily, your head falls into your hands, overcome with the stress and emotions of the night.
“Love?” George asks, voice bouncing against the stone walls of the classroom. His nickname for you falling from his lips as naturally as his kiss did on the night of Bill and Fleur’s wedding.
“How did you find me?” You ask, the words on your lips mirroring a much happier time experienced only weeks ago.
“I’ll always know how to find you,” George replies, settling into his place on your right.
Without thinking, without realising, you lean into the redhead and let the events of the night fall upon you. The injuries, the deaths, the sadness. It all washes over you at once. George holds you through it all; his arm at home on your waist as you hide your face in his shoulder. His other hand brushes down your hair as he shushes you, calming you.
When you find the strength to emerge from his shoulder, George greets you with a warm smile. His hands remain on your waist, squeezing you gently as he presses kiss after kiss to your face, grateful to find you alive after such a night.
By the time you both emerge from the classroom, the both of you are much more prepared to face a new wizarding world together.
Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, Diagon Alley, London
There were scars from the Battle of Hogwarts and the events leading up to it. Diagon Alley would struggle to replenish itself; business that had called the shopping street home for centuries would choose not to return out of fear of another uprising. However, Fred and George refused to shut down – they would not leave the wizarding world without some joyful escape in the shape of a prank or a joke.
The shop was always bright, always full, and always brimming with laughter. At the start of every academic year, the shop would overflow with excited students, ready to get their fill of fun before heading to school on the Hogwarts Express.
“Have a great day,” You smile at young boy and his family, watching them leave the shop with large smiles on their faces.
“Ready for lunch?” George’s voice chimes from your right; his all too familiar hand wrapping around your waist, tugging you into his left side where you felt at home.
“Are Fred and Ron ready to take over?”
George nods. “They are. Let’s go to lunch.”
“Alright,” You laugh, “You’ve twisted my arm.”
Falling into step beside George, you think of all the times you’ve found yourself in a similar position. From the very first moment of knowing him, it was as if his left side was made for you whilst your right was perfect for him. Your place would always be on George’s left; body angled so you could rest against him, close enough for his hand to sneak around your waist.
Countless times you had gravitated towards each other, as if needing the other to regulate moods or to simply bathe in their presence. It made far too much sense that you would fall for the one made for you.
Harry Potter taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @big-galaxy-chaos @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @awritingtree @haphazardhufflepuff @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @acaceta @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @lovinghufflepuffgirl @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @remmyswritings @superbturtlemakerathlete @mirclealignr @inglourious-imagines @ithilwen-lionheart @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @nuttytani @ilovejjmaybank @theweasleysredhair @phuvioqhile @moatsnow @storyisnotover @joyfullymulti @himooonlight @pandaxnienke @pinkcloxds
The Weasley Twins taglist: @seppys-return-to-madness @somekidinacoma @ickle-ronniekins
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Dumbledore: The Hogwarts Houses? Oh, I respect them all equally! There’s Gryffindor, Slytherin, uhhh…
Dumbledore: *looks at smudged writing on hand*
Dumbledore: Rasinpaw and…
Dumbledore: *squints hard*
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‼️SCOTTISH FOLLOWERS‼️ also TW drugs, spiking drinks, injection marks
Ok so THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT, i don’t know how many of you on here are Scottish but this also applies to girls/females/femme presenting people!!
Recently since clubs etc have opened on Scotland again there had been a rise in drink spiking through use of pills etc so first off please please please be careful and wary at all times of who your drink is exposed to, cover it or hand it to someone trusteorthy if you need the toilet.
But now since men have become aware that we know about their spiking they have resorted to NEEDLES AND INJECTION, it started off in clubs in EDINBURGH but it has now spread up to GLASGOW clubs also. So please stay safe if you are going out, stick in groups of people and if you suspect one of your pals have been spiked, stay with them, let bar/staff know, make sure they get home safe and not with any strangers, call NHS 24 or 999 if their condition deteriorates.
This is absolutly disgusting that this is happening, and even more disgusting that all that can and is being done is people telling us to ”be safe” i know its wrong and we’ll fight that but for now i’ll be posting screenshots of different tips etc on this matter to help you all feel safer when out and how to detect this disgusting thing.
I know the quality is shite so this is what it says in the small print
Thursday night Nice N Sleazy/Firewater, spiked by injection.
Hey guys, just wanted to put on here that we think my friend was spiked by injection on Thursday night. We don’t know where it happened but we were at Nice N Sleazy and outside Firewater. Luckily she was with people all night and got home safe but we noticed the mark on her back when we got home and thought it didn’t look too good (picture below). She was also acting more drunk than normal and can’t really remember anything from 12:30 am - 4am. The parts she can remember she couldn’t see anything, so we are 98% sure that she was spiked by injection! We called NHS 24 but they couldn’t really do anything at the time. Just be careful out there and look out for your friends xx
Below are some useful slides on how to detect a spiked drink!
I’ll reblog with more images etc but please please reblog this and spread awareness for everyone!
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hi i wanna say happy belated bday first cuz I just found ur blog <3!! second, idk if u do platonic requests but i kinda wanna request headcanons for the weasley twins with a reader who’s like maybe in 4th year and they’re just like 1-2 yrs older and they see her as a younger sister?? Idk if this is kinda weird or specific I just thought if would b cute <3
aw, thank you my looove! oh my gosh, this head cannon live rent free in my head! i love it so much, thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy!
being best friends with the weasley twins during the tri-wizard tournament
Fourth year was filled with excitement to say the least
With the tri-wizard tournament, along with all of the other chaos that Hogwarts has to offer, it’s safe to say your schedule was pretty full
But not full enough that you didn’t have enough time to squeeze in some fun with your best friends, Fred and George Weasley
You were in the same class as the Golden Trio and the twins just two years above you
They didn’t approach you until third year, but had always wondered how or why they didn’t approach you sooner
They immediately took a liking to you because of your fun personality and sense of humor
Fred and George felt like you got them perfectly and you three were absolutely meant to be
‘can’t believe you’re actually friends with Ronikins’ Fred teased
‘yeah. come and join the big boys, y/n’ George egged on
The devilish smirks on their faces were all the convincing you needed
It was a hellish trio to say the least, and definitely an exuberant one for sure
They took you under their wing, showing you all the ins and outs of being Hogwarts’s greatest pranksters
You clicked with them instantly
That year, you three flew practically under the radar
Undetected to say the least
While everyone was busy focusing on the tri wizard tournament and hating Harry for a short bit, you tricksters plotted
And plotted well
Coming up with some of the greatest pranks ever
And the twins would be lying if they said they didn’t love that beautiful brain of yours
Because you were so damn slick
Always finding your escape plan and a way out of trouble
Because why go to detention if you don’t have to
You were the savior to those boys and they really did owe you their life
You also helped grow their small business that year
Whether it was recruiting first years to try the products or selling candies to members of other houses, you did everything you could to help them
Because their success was your success, and nothing felt better than helping their dream flourish
They were so super protective of you
If anyone was mean to you especially guys they would prank them to no end
Freddie and George made sure that you were taken care of and that nobody would bother you in your safe space
Sometimes it would get a bit overbearing
Because, let's face it, those boys are the c.e.o.'s of being extra
But you knew it always came from a good, honest place so you could never be too mad
George definitely took you to the Yule ball
Seeing Fred go with Angelina, he figured he wanted his best friend to be at his side more than anyone
And it was probably the most fun you ever had
Because most of the time you two either sat on the sidelines making fun of the way Professor Snape danced or in the middle of the dance floor going absolutely nuts
You guys watched every tri wizard challenge together, always cheering the loudest for Hogwarts
Sat smack in the middle of them while they teased the champions and complained how they should be the ones up there
Which always got a chuckle out of you
Wearing matching sweaters while sitting in the stands and eating your favorite snacks
They were the brothers you never thought you needed, but so grateful you had
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The Rigel Black Chronicles Inktober Day 12: Sweater
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Ginny Potter’s best men
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“Fuck you my child is completely fine” Your child is staring at the ceiling for 5 hours straight imagining getting the barest hint of affection from their comfort character.
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He's not Fred, I am!
Honestly, woman. You call yourself our mother.
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Happy 41st birthday. Harry Potter.
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Imagine a buzzfeed unsolved and harry potter cross over where Shane is the chosen one and does not believe in magic.
"Hey there death eaters, it's me, ya boy"
"FUCK YOU VOLDEMORT"
"I'm dancing in your forest. It's my forest now! If you want me out you're gonna have to kill me"
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