#george weasley fanfiction

[lumosandnoxwriting]

you saw the truth in me || George Weasley

Title: you saw the truth in me Pairing: George x Reader Warnings: Mentions of fighting/violence, mentions of blood.  Summary: George never thought he’d be back here again, heartbroken over the only girl he’s ever loved. But once again, he only has himself and his stupidity to blame. Hockey has always been his safe place, but even that isn’t enough to heal his broken heart. A man once at the height of his life, is now on the cusp of losing it all. It’s time for the lies and fakeness to end, and George can only hope it isn’t too late. A/N: here it is, the final part of hockey!george! Thank you so much to everyone who has supported this series and left lovely comments/sent messages - it truly means so much to me that you all love hockey!George as much as I do! As always, comments/feedback are always welcome and appreciated <3 Tags: @rk-ceres

-

George is purely operating on auto-pilot at this point. When Y/N walked out of his life she took all of his motivation and will to do anything with her. If hockey wasn’t all he had left George surely would have been happy rotting away in bed for the foreseeable future. But without Y/N around he has to focus on something, so hockey it is. 

He only gets out of bed because he has practice and training and film sessions to attend. He only gets in the shower so that he doesn’t scare away the few people he hasn’t managed to run off. Eating is purely for fuel, and something he only remembers to do when his body is on the verge of collapsing. 

Before she came back into his life George thought hockey was the only love he’d ever have. Hell, he even went back home and convinced his ex-girlfriend to pretend to be engaged to him so that he could further his career. But having Y/N in his home and in his heart taught him many things, one of them being that there is more in life than just hockey. It really made George reevaluate his outlook, made him think about what happens when he retires and what he wants his life to look like. 

Before Y/N he had convinced himself that he’d spend the rest of his days alone, spending time with his family and doting on his nieces and nephews between lavish vacations and golf trips. Maybe he’d coach a peewee league or two. Whatever he would do George had it in his head that he would be doing it alone. 

But once Y/N reappeared in his life all of those future plans changed. He saw a house in a quiet suburb with a golden retriever in the yard. He saw Y/N in the kitchen, humming to herself as she made dinner. There were kids too, at least three, a perfect combination of the two of them that would fill their house with love and laughter. 

It was a future that George didn’t just imagine - he yearned for it. And with one mistake it’s gone. 

Now he’s not really sure what the point of it all is. What’s the point of being at the height of his career when there’s no one in the stands cheering him on? What’s the point of making all of this money when he has no college funds or family vacations to spend it on? 

He knows everyone is worried about him, but he’s gone into pure survival mode. Ignoring everyone and everything that might make him feel something. Just like he did the last time he fucked up and lost Y/N.

-

George grunts as Ross slams him into the boards, his shoulder seizing up as his head bounces off the glass. He doesn’t even have the energy to hit back, he just lets him skate off with the puck. 

He’s been playing like absolute shit ever since he came back from spring break, but George can’t find it in himself to care. There’s a Y/N shaped hole in his heart, and there isn’t room in his mind for anything except the pain he feels without her. Sure he’s the one who broke them up, but he was doing what he thought was best for her - not for him. 

Even knowing that the Rebels will be drafting him next week isn’t enough to make him feel anything other than pain, which is ironic considering the fact that he told Y/N some bullshit about needing to focus on hockey was the reason why he was ending things. At this point George doesn’t even care if he makes it to the NHL, hell Coach could cut him tomorrow and he’d walk away from hockey forever. 

Without Y/N nothing really makes sense anymore. 

George is so out of it that he doesn’t even realize the game is still going on around him until Coach blows his whistle. 

“All right, that's enough for today, hit the locker room boys. Weasley - my office, now!”

He takes his time leaving the ice, not wanting to face the worried looks his teammates have been sending his way for days. George is almost thankful that Coach is about to tear him a new asshole, since the locker room will probably be empty by the time he gets back there and he doesn’t have to ignore all the questions the boys are sure to have. 

“What the fuck has gotten into you, Weasley?” Coach asks before George’s ass is even in the seat across from his desk. 

“Just got a lot on my mind,” George mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. 

Coach huffs, clearly torn between berating the boy in front of him or offering him a sympathetic shoulder. “Look, I can’t imagine the shit you’re going through, kid. But you gotta leave it in the locker room. Out on that ice the only thing that should be in your head is the game, you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I mean it, George. Fucking up out there isn’t just going to fuck things up for the team but for you as well. The Rebel’s are only offering you a provisional contract, there’s no guarantee they’ll actually call you up once you graduate. Then you’ll be stuck entering the draft as a free agent, and with the way you’ve been playing you’ll be lucky to make it onto a farm team. This is everything you’ve been working towards, Weasley and you are so fucking close, kid. Don’t let all that hard work go to waste. Hockey is the only thing you’ve got room for in your life, understand?”

George nods, and after a few moments of silence Coach dismisses him and he doesn’t hesitate to get the fuck out of there. 

But Coach is right. If he can’t have Y/N at least he still has hockey, and that will have to be enough.

-

Which is why he’s ignored every single one of Fred’s phone calls, and has made up an excuse every time Adam or Thomas invites him out to do something. He told them Y/N had to go back home for some kind of family emergency to explain his shitty mood, and George knows the second they get him alone they’ll be able to tell something bigger is going on; and that is not a conversation George is ready to have. 

They’ve got one more preseason game before Morris announces him as Captain, and George is just holding on until then. Once the announcement is made he’ll be able to get his shit back together and be the man everyone seems to think he is. 

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself.

-

“Hey, you okay?”

Y/N flinches at the sound of Fred’s voice, and she slowly spins around to face him. He’s standing just where George did all of those weeks ago when he came to ask for her help and it makes the hole in her chest throb. Because even though George hurt her again, Y/N wishes it was him standing there checking on her, not his twin. 

“Just peachy,” she lies, giving Fred her best fake grin. 

Fred snorts in laughter. “I think you’ve always been so focused on George that you forget I’ve known you just as long as he has, Y/N. So cut the crap, we both know you’re not okay.”

Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders slump. Because Fred is right. She’s so far from being okay that word has lost all meaning. It’s been three days since she left Chicago, and even though she’d been desperate to get away Y/N finds herself wishing she was there, back at home with George. 

She’s not really sure when Chicago became home, but the second she touched down in Washington she knew this wasn’t where she was supposed to be. Everything just feels wrong. 

Her old apartment that she thought was so cozy feels like a prison cell, skating at the community center doesn’t bring her the same joy it used to - not when she knows what it’s like to skate at the arena with George by her side. Even seeing her friends leaves her with a longing to hang out with Olivia and Jenny. 

It’s like George finally showed her what it really means to live her life, and now she’s just floating along with no idea how to function anymore. So she plasters on her best fake smile and does what she does best: pretend.

“Look,” Fred starts, taking a few steps forward so he’s closer. “I have no idea what happened between you and George while you guys were in Chicago and I’m not going to pretend that I fully understand the relationship you two have. But there are a few things I do know for sure. For starters I know my brother is hurting, he’s refusing my calls and if the texts I’ve gotten from his teammates are true he’s shutting himself out from the world. And the only other time he did that was after he broke up with you and he was heartbroken.”

Y/N looks away from Fred, not wanting him to see how upset it makes her knowing George is hurting too. Even though she knows he brought that upon himself, she knows she played a role in that pain too. Instead of sticking around to hear what George had to say, she shut down and ran away, just like she did all those years ago. Just like she regrets doing all those years ago. 

Instead of staying and working things out together, she ran, and all that has accomplished is making them both feel like shit. 

“I also know that whatever the hell happened between you two was far from fake. Because you’re both hurt for real, and some stupid lie or argument between two people pretending to be in love wouldn’t cause this kind of heartbreak,” he continues when she doesn’t say anything. “Finally, I know whatever the hell happened was just a roadblock in your story, not the end. You still love George, and you’re holding out hope that he still loves you too.”

His voice is so strong and sure, and those feelings are reflected in Fred’s gaze once Y/N gets the courage to look at him. It almost takes her breath away, how confident Fred is that her and George will work things out. 

“How do you know?” she asks, unable to keep the question in. “How can you be so sure that everything is going to work out?”

The smile on Fred’s face could light the world as he gestures towards her left hand. “Because you’re still wearing the ring my brother gave you. If everything that happened was really fake, and you’re really done with him, why are you still wearing it?”

Y/N is at a loss for words, and with a final wink Fred turns on his heel and walks away. Once he’s disappeared she can’t help but look at the diamond sparkling on her finger, and even just the thought of taking it off makes her chest ache. Despite it being a painful reminder of what could have been, every time she’s tried to take it off Y/N was never quite able to go through with it. It’s the last claim George has over her, and taking it off means that they really are over. 

And if George is feeling just as heartbroken as she is, maybe there still is hope for a happily ever after. 

-

“Wow, Fred wasn’t lying. You really do look like shit.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at Angelina’s bluntness, but there’s a genuine smile on her face for the first time in days. 

“Please, come in and continue to insult me when I already feel like dog shit,” Y/N responds, opening her front door wider so she can come in. 

It’s been a few days since Fred confronted her at the rink, and Y/N isn’t totally surprised that Angelina is here to check up on her. She’d kind of been hoping that she would show up eventually, because Y/N has been dying to get a female perspective on the situation. If anyone is going to tell it to her straight with no regard for her feelings it’s going to be Angelina Johnson. 

Perhaps the best thing to come out of her relationship with George, besides all the love and whatever, is her relationship with Angelina. Dating one half of Fred and George is taxing, to say the least, and the two girls developed a kind of kinship over complaining about all the shit their boyfriends got into. 

Luckily Y/N got to keep Angelina in the breakup, because getting fake engaged to your ex boyfriend and then falling in love with him again is something only a girl who is dating a Weasley twin can understand. 

“You know I already nursed you through one George Weasley breakup,” Angelina teases as she plops down onto the couch. “I’m not really sure I have it in me to do it again.”

“You came over here on your own, you realize that, right?” Y/N sits down next to her, halfheartedly hitting the other girl with a throw pillow. “You’re the one who volunteered yourself for this position.”

“Semantics,” Angelina scoffs playfully. She bites her lip, suddenly feeling a bit nervous as she clutches the pillow Y/N hit her with to her chest. “I mean it kind of is my fault that you’re in this situation, so it only makes sense that I help you come up with a plan to get out of it.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Just because Fred got this hairbrained idea for George and I to get fake engaged because you read a bunch of romance novels does not make any of this your fault. I’m the one who went and fucked up the plan by actually getting real feelings. And you certainly didn’t make George lie to me. I’m the one who got myself into this mess.”

“Still, I feel bad and Fred has been fucking moping around the apartment since George refuses to pick up his calls and I needed a good reason to get the hell out of there.”

“So you’re here for purely selfish reasons,” Y/N laughs. “I see how it is.”

“So you really fell in love with George again, huh?” Angelina questions, nudging Y/N’s knee with her own. 

“Yeah, like a fucking idiot.”

Angelina huffs a laugh. “I don’t know how those boys ended up managing to get two of the hottest girls we went to school with. I swear it must be witchcraft.” That pulls another smile from Y/N, and she considers her next words carefully. “And you’re not an idiot, Y/N. If you fell back in love with George it’s because of who George is and the way he treated you. It’s not like you hated him and then woke up on a random morning madly in love again.”

Y/N shrugs, keeping her eyes focused on the rug to keep from looking at the other girl. “I don’t think I ever really hated George,” she admits quietly. “Was I pissed at him for breaking up with me? Of course, but I never hated him. I think deep down I’ve always loved him, but I refused to acknowledge those feelings to keep myself from getting hurt. That’s the only reason I agreed to this stupid thing in the first place, I told myself either this was George and I’s second chance at a future or it was the wake up call I needed to finally put that chapter of my life to rest and move on.”

“And which one was it?”

“Wake up call,” Y/N responds, her tone saying ‘duh, isn’t it obvious?’

Angelina gives her a grin that Y/N swears she’s seen on Fred’s face before. I guess it’s true that people in long term relationships start to mimic each other’s mannerisms.

“Then why haven’t you taken off the ring?”

Y/N groans, flopping back against the pillows. “You’re such a shithead, you know that? Fred asked me the same question at the rink the other day.”

“He did?” Angelina asks, even though the glint in her eyes tells Y/N that she already knew that. “You know I deserve an award for all the work I’ve put into that boy. He’s a different man than he was when we met, and it’s all thanks to me.”

“If anyone has changed during the course of your relationship it’s you,” Y/N teases. “You used to actually be tolerable and now you’re both insufferable idiots.”

Now Angelina is the one smacking Y/N with a pillow, hitting her softly a few times before they’re both dissolving into a fit of giggles. 

“So answer the question,” Angelina urges once they’ve calmed down. “If you and George really are over for good why are you still wearing your engagement ring?”

Y/N sighs, holding out her left hand to examine the piece of jewelry George slid onto her fourth finger. It’s everything she’s always wanted her engagement ring to be, a true reminder of how well George knows her and his dedication to do everything he can to make her happy. It’s a reminder of all the plans they’d made as teenagers, and even though it was supposed to be fake, she’d viewed it as a promise that George would make all of those other dreams come true too. 

“I guess because I don’t really want it to be over. Of course I’m pissed at George and I’m upset that he lied to me, but I want that second chance. Or maybe it’s our third chance, who the hell knows anymore. I just know that I’m not ready to say goodbye to George Weasley for good. I think he fell back in love with me too, I just don’t know how to fix this mess we’ve gotten ourselves in.”

That stupid Fred grin is back on Angelina’s face and Y/N already regrets the words that have just come out of her mouth. Fred really has rubbed off on Angelina too much, and while she doesn’t know what the plan is, the look on Angelina’s face tells Y/N that she already has one.

And she’s not really sure if that’s a good thing or not.

-

George had planned on ignoring it. 

The knocking started over twenty minutes ago, and he figured whichever of his teammates decided to try and talk some sense into him would eventually get tired and give up. But now it’s gone from simple knocking to pounding, and as much as George doesn’t want to see anyone he does have neighbors and the last thing he needs is a noise complaint to make him feel shittier than he already does. 

So he stomps to the front door, fully intent on opening it just long enough to tell whoever it is to fuck right off so he can go back to wallowing in peace. But all of that fades away, since the second he yanks the door open Olivia and Jenny are pushing their way through, forcing George to the side as they storm into his apartment. 

Adam and Thomas follow their girlfriends, but they at least have the decency to look a little ashamed of their ambush. Forcing himself to get his shit together, George takes a few deep breaths before he shuts the door and follows everyone into the living room. 

Olivia and Jenny have matching stern expressions on their faces, hands on their hips as they glare at George. 

“Sit,” Olivia commands, gesturing towards the couch. 

 It’s then that George notices no one else is sitting down, in fact the four of them have formed a half circle facing the couch where Olivia just demanded he sit. 

“What the fuck is this?” George questions as he does as he was told. “An intervention?”

“So you admit that you did something that requires intervention?”

George frowns and Jenny’s question, silently kicking himself for playing into their hand. He was ready to just spout out some bullshit to get them out of his apartment, but clearly they know something is going on and they don’t plan on leaving until they get it out of him. 

“Maybe,” he admits, the same feelings of shame and guilt creeping in when he thinks of Y/N and what happened between them. He knows he royally fucked everything up, but he’s at a loss for what to do to try and fix things between them. Y/N was clear that she regretted not fighting for their relationship last time, and George isn’t going to let himself make the same mistake. He just doesn’t know where to go from here.

All he knows is that his plan to keep his head down and focus on hockey has been a complete and utter failure. His skating has been sloppy, his puck control has gone out the window and every time he steps on the ice he’s counting down the minutes until he can go home and crawl into his sheets that still smell like Y/N. 

“Spill, now,” Olivia demands. 

And so he does. Because these people are his family, and he knows they’ve come to care about Y/N too, and if he has any shred of hope for getting Y/N back he’ll take all the help he can get. Even if it means letting everyone know what an utter idiot he’s been over the last few months. 

He starts all the way at the beginning, back when he let his insecurities get the better of him and he broke things off with Y/N. George tells them about the pain, and how he buried himself into hockey to ignore all of it, and his promise to never love another woman again. When he gets to the conversation he had Morris had in the off season and the scheme he cooked up with Fred George’s eyes drop to the floor, not wanting to see the things the others are feeling. 

George tells them about how somewhere along the way he fell in love with Y/N for real, and his sole focus became making sure she felt the same way too. He made sure to emphasize how little he cared about being named Captain, that he would have happily been benched for the rest of his career if it meant he had the girl of his dreams by his side. 

Leading them all the way up to now, how he had lied to Y/N about being named Captain so he had enough time to really be sure she’d want to make their arrangement something real. And how on the very day he planned on coming clean, his brother had accidentally spilled the beans and she discovered his lie and betrayal. He tells them all about how hurt Y/N looked that day, and how he just let her walk away. 

He keeps his eyes downcast as he finishes his story, and they all just stand there in silence. 

Until Adam laughing breaks through. 

“You’re something else, Weasel, holy shit.”

The grunt he makes when Jenny slaps his stomach makes George finally look up, and he’s surprised and relieved to see that no one looks mad at him. 

“You guys aren’t mad?”

“Oh I’m pissed that you lied to us,” Olivia starts, but there isn’t any malice in her voice. “And I’m pissed that you screwed things up with Y/N. But clearly you regret your actions and you’re hurting, so I can be pissed at you after.”

“After?”

“After we help you fix things with Y/N,” Jenny responds as if the answer is obvious. “Making you get on your knees and beg for our forgiveness is only satisfying if you don’t look like an abused puppy while you do it.”

“Gee thanks,” George huffs, rolling his eyes. But for the first time since Y/N walked out on him George feels something other than despair. 

He feels hope.

-

The first step of her new plan involves watching the final Rebel’s preseason game, even though Y/N isn’t totally sure she’s ready to see George again. Even if it is through the TV. 

But if what Fred said is true and George has isolated himself from the people around him she needs to make sure that he’s okay. That his heart is still beating and he’s still breathing. Confirmation of life, if you will. 

Again, she’s got to quit watching so much Criminal Minds. 

From the moment George steps out onto the ice it’s clear he isn’t himself. The one place George has always been sure of himself is the rink, but the man wearing his jersey is far from the confident man Y/N expected to see. As she watches him warm up it’s clear there’s no passion behind his movements, like he’s out there playing because he has to be and not because he wants to be. 

It’s the last preseason game and they’re on their own turf, George should be flying high. But from the looks of it he’d rather be anywhere but the stadium. It makes her sick, knowing that even the sport he loves isn’t enough to bring him comfort, and Y/N wishes she could make all that pain go away. 

She’s tempted to turn the TV off, she got a glimpse of him to confirm he is still in fact alive, and now can go about her evening doing just about anything else. But she can’t find it in herself to grab the remote and change the station. Despite his clear lack of enthusiasm George looks beautiful out on the ice, and she can’t look away. Y/N decides to at least watch the first period, figuring George will shake off his funk and show up for his teammates. 

Unfortunately Y/N has never been more wrong in her life. 

George misses passes that he should be able to capture in his sleep, and the few attempts he makes on goal are sloppy and miss the mark by a mile. Clearly his mind is elsewhere, and Y/N feels consumed with guilt, knowing that she’s the reason why George is acting this way. This was supposed to be their season, but how are the Rebel’s supposed to take it all the way with a Captain who’s barely holding it together. 

Luckily the Rebels manage to keep it held together until they’re halfway through the second period. Despite George’s shitty playing they’ve scored two goals, keeping them tied with New York. And as Geore skates out for his next shift he almost looks like his old self. Each of his movements are sharp and sure, and even though the camera isn’t zoomed in on his face Y/N can tell there’s a look of determination painted on it. 

She’s actually feeling hopeful that he’s managed to pull it together as George faces off against the opposing center for the puck drop. From the angle of the camera it’s apparent that New York’s center is chirping at George for the hundredth time tonight, though Y/N can’t really tell what’s being said. Luckily George is used to it, and he’s always good about ignoring the bullshit and letting their defensemen take care of it. 

Except George clearly isn’t himself, because the second the Ref blows the whistle George is dropping his gloves and taking a swing at the player across from him. Y/N gasps as blood sprays from the other player’s nose, a weird mixture of shock and arousal thrumming through her veins. 

New York’s center drops his own gloves then, and their fight is in full swing. George grabs onto his opponent’s jersey, yanking him closer so he can land another hit to his face. The Ref’s let them exchange some blows, but as their teammates start to get involved whistles start to blow, and Y/N is on the edge of her seat as George disappears under a pile of fighting hockey players. 

It takes several moments for the Refs to pull everyone apart, but since George and New York’s center were the catalysts they are the only two who receive a penalty. He only receives five minutes, and her stomach turns as a Ref leads George to the sin bin. There’s blood dripping down the corner of his mouth, and she can’t help but notice how swollen and bloody his knuckles are as he wipes it away. 

Even once his penalty is up, George doesn’t get back on the ice until the game is almost over. Luckily he’s kept his hands to himself, and that same determined glare still graces his features as he nabs the puck at the face off. The game is tied up still, and Y/N doesn’t even breathe as the Rebel’s take the puck down the ice towards New York’s goal. The clock is swiftly ticking down, and they have the opportunity to go into the regular season undefeated. 

There were about a dozen different times that Y/N considered switching the game off as she watched, too nervous to keep watching the absolute shit show going on but still feeling the need to support George, even if it’s from her couch and not the stands. But as the clock ticks down and George slaps the puck into the back of the net, scoring both his first point and the game winning point, her heart swells and she’s thankful that she stuck it out.

Because instead of joining his team in celebrating, George raises his stick towards the camera pointed at him, mouthing the words she’s gotten used to seeing again. 

“That was for you.”

Y/N doesn’t even realize she’s crying until the tears drip off of her chin and land on her lap. Despite having no idea that she’s watching, and playing the worst game of his career, George dedicated his goal to her. 

If that wasn’t enough to prove to her that what she and George had was anything but fake, the post game interview he gives leaves no room for doubt.

“You certainly weren’t playing like yourself out there, George, care to comment on what was going on tonight?”

George grunts, and Y/N can tell that the question pisses him off. “My head just wasn’t in it, but I think New York’s center knocked it back into place,” he jokes, trying to make light of the situation.

“Does it have anything to do with the mystery woman you’ve been spotted with recently? Who is this woman who managed to capture your heart and has you dedicating all of your goals to her?” Another reporter asks once called on. 

Y/N figured George is going to deflect the question just like he always does, so she’s surprised when a genuine smile takes over his scowl. 

“That mystery woman would be, Y/N. She’s the woman who always pushes me to be the best version of myself, the only voice I hear in my head when I’m out on the ice. The woman that I love.” 

Y/N’s breath catches in her throat at his honest answer, and her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest as George looks dead into the camera and continues. 

“Baby if you’re watching, and God I really hope you are or I’m about to make a fool of myself on national television, I’m so sorry. I messed up, and I plan on spending every day of the rest of my life making it up to me if you’ll let me. I love you, please come home.”

Suddenly there isn’t a doubt in her mind: George Weasley is completely and irrevocably in love with her and Y/N isn’t going to stop until he knows that she feels the same. 

-

George feels like he might pass out. 

It’s been a little over a week since he confessed his love for Y/N on national television and he hasn’t heard a peep from her. He figures it’s because she wasn’t watching the game, because he can’t bear to think that her silence is because she doesn’t feel the same. That’s a depressive spiral he doesn’t have the time or the energy to deal with. 

Instead he’s focused on the plan he, Olivia and Jenny came up with. He plans on saying the exact same thing during his post game interview tonight, win or lose, and if that doesn’t work he’ll be on a flight to Washington next week in between games to make his love declaration in person. 

George may have joked last week that fighting with New York’s Center knocked his head back on right, but there was some actual truth to that statement. Because he had been playing like shit, and after the fight the only thing he could think of is how upset Y/N would be if she were watching the game. Not only was he playing like shit, but he was acting like an asshole and letting his whole team down, and that version of George he wants her to see. Olivia and Jenny had helped him get his priorities straight and figure out how he needed to start mending things with Y/N, but it was up to him to actually put that plan into place. And playing like shit and getting into fights was not the way to do that.

Y/N truly is constantly pushing George to be the best version of himself, because he wants to be the guy who deserves to be loved by someone as amazing as her. And it really is her voice in his head out there on the ice, because succeeding in his career is going to allow him to give Y/N the life she deserves. And he really does love her, more than he’s ever loved anything. 

He’s done feeling sorry for himself, he knows what he wants and he’s not going to stop until he gets it. 

The first part of that involved a huge apology to his team, and a promise that he’s done being a fuckhead and he’ll be on the top of his game when they skate out onto that ice tonight. It’s the first game of the season and it’s at home: a lethal combination and anything other than a crushing defeat of the other team is not an option. 

Especially when Coach comes into the locker room before warmups, getting ready to make the big announcement that they’ve all been waiting for. 

“Alright, settle down, settle down.” Morris’ voice booms out, causing everyone to instantly quiet. “Now after Crawford retired I know there’s been lots of whispers about who would take his place as Captain. And a lot of time and effort has gone into this decision, it’s not something anyone has taken lightly, especially the man who we’ve chosen for the job. I’ve watched this man work endlessly to be the best player out on the ice for years, and recently I’ve seen him work just as hard to be the best man off of the ice too. Which is why I’m honored to announce the next Captain of the Rebels, number thirteen, George Weasley.”

The team whoops and cheers as George makes his way over to where Morris is standing, a brand new jersey with a capital C in his hands. The guys slap his back and ruffle his hair as he goes, and he feels overwhelmed with how much the team cares and supports him. He shakes Morris’ hand before taking the jersey from him, holding it up for all of the guys to see. 

“Speech! Speech! Speech!” Thomas starts chanting, with Adam joining in. Pretty soon half the team is shouting, and George waves his hand to quiet them down. 

“Jesus, fuck you guys are annoying,” he teases as they start to settle down. “I just wanna start by thanking Coach and everyone who made this decision, it honestly was an honor just to even be considered. This team is my family, and I’m ready to fight alongside all of you this season to bring that Cup home. So let’s get out there on that ice and show them what it means to be a Rebel!”

The team gets rowdy again as George takes off his old jersey, slipping the new one over his gear. It’s gametime then, and as they all line up to exit the tunnel George feels more ready than he ever has. This is going to be their season, and he’ll have Y/N fighting right alongside him if he has anything to say about it. 

The announcer’s booming voice echoes through the tunnel as he announces Texas’ team, and the boys start to bounce around as it gets closer and closer to being their turn out onto the ice. One by one as their names are called the guys flood out onto the ice, ramped up by the loud cheers radiating throughout the stadium. 

Like usual George is last in line, and as he gets closer and closer to stepping out onto the ice he takes a deep breath, silently praying that Y/N is watching. 

“And you’re starting Center and new team Captain number thirteen George Weasley!”

The screams are deafening as George steps out onto the ice, joining the team in their starting lap around the ice. He lets his eyes scan out over the crowd, just taking a moment to let everything sink in. Everything he’s worked for has been leading up to this, and he wants to commit it all to memory. The only thing that would make this night better is knowing that Y/N is there in the crowd to cheer him on too. 

Which is why he has to do a double take as they make their way past home bench, because even though he’s sure about what he saw it may have just been a trick of the lights he needs to be sure. And sure enough when he looks again, three rows back sandwiched between Olivia and Jenny is Y/N, a huge grin on her face as their eyes lock. 

George stops in his tracks at the sight of her, barely able to comprehend how she’s here. 

“Hey Captain!” Y/N shouts, though George reads it from her lips. His mouth drops open as Y/N stands up and turns around, showing off the jersey she has on. Because embroidered above the large number thirteen on the center of her back are the words, Mrs. Weasley. 

He can barely believe his eyes, and just as he’s about to throw himself over the boards to get to her Thomas is grabbing the back of his jersey, pulling him towards center ice so they can line up for the national anthem. 

“Chill your shit, lover boy! You can make up with your woman later, we’ve got a game to win!”

George spares Y/N one last look before he follows behind Thomas, slipping into a state of complete and utter focus. Because with his girl in the stands, wearing their last name, winning is the only option. 

-

George has never hated all the bullshit that comes with being a professional athlete more than he does right now. Usually he doesn’t mind all the media and the post game discussions, but knowing that Y/N is somewhere in this arena waiting for him makes George want to crawl out of his skin to get to her. 

Luckily, after what feels like an eternity he’s storming out of the locker room, his dress shirt barely buttoned up and soaking wet from his hair that he didn’t take the time to dry. He doesn’t care that he probably looks like a crazed animal, all he cares about is getting to her. Which is why he doesn’t realize how familiar the voice that’s calling his name is, and he doesn’t notice the person running full speed at him is Y/N until she’s practically right there in front of him.

He barely has time to drop the hockey bag slung over his shoulder and open his arms before Y/N is barrelling into him so hard it takes all of his strength and balance to keep them upright. Her face presses into the juncture of his neck while her arms twine around it, and George immediately wraps his own around her middle. He grips her tightly as Y/N hooks her legs around his hips, letting her warmth seep into his chest. 

“Baby,” he murmurs, nose pressed to her hair as he takes a deep breath in. His knees start to quiver from how good she smells, and George squeezes her even tighter. “You’re here, I can’t believe it.”

Y/N pulls away so she can look at George, the huge smile on her face reflected back at her on his. “How could I not be? Not after you asked me to come back home on national television.”

George chuckles, his cheeks flushing. “So you did see that, huh? When I didn’t hear from you afterwards I thought maybe you missed it. Or you saw it and it didn’t change anything for you.”

“I did see it, and it didn’t change anything for me.” The look that takes over George’s face makes her stomach sink, and Y/N twists her fingers in the damp hair at the back of his head. “Because I was already planning on coming back home to you, George. George Weasley I have loved you since I was six years old and you let me drag you down to the ice every time I stumbled and fell down. Even the time we spent apart did nothing to squash how much I love you. The whole reason I agreed to be your fake fiancé is because I hoped this could be our second chance at a future together. And the second I walked out of that door I wanted to turn around and run right back to you. I let you get away from me once and I’ll be damned if I make the same mistake twice.”

“Baby,” George breathes, tipping his head down so their foreheads are pressed together. “I am “so fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you that night about what Coach and I talked about. I was scared that I was running out of time, and you’d be back on a plane to Washington before I could tell you the truth. I love you, Y/N, and I plan on loving you for the rest of my life.”

“I love you too.”

She squeals as George suddenly spins them in a circle, not stopping until her back is pressed against the wall and she’s pinned beneath him. George leans in, just barely letting their lips touch. 

“Say it again.”

Y/N grins. “I love you, George.”

Finally George leans in and kisses her, their mouths fitting together so perfectly it’s as if they were made to match. Some of his teammates have started to filter out, but neither of them cares about the whoops and hollers that start to surround them. George’s kiss is possessive and claiming, and Y/N finds herself whining as he breaks them apart. 

“We better head down to the courthouse tomorrow,” George murmurs, earning him a shocked giggle. 

“And why is that?”

“Well according to that jersey you’re wearing, you’re Mrs. Weasley,” George teases, nudging their noses together. “And I’m done with all of the faking and the lies, aren’t you?”

Y/N nods, sighing in relief when George kisses her again. “Yeah, I am.”

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fan fic #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter au #gw #golden

[alwaysthegeorges]

No Going Back - George Weasley x Reader

Summary - During the Yule Ball, you and George accidentally brew a sex pollen potion instead of amortentia.

Warnings - fluff, pining, and last but not least, smut (characters are aged up to be 18 in their last year of school). No use of Y/N. 

Word Count - 4.4k (edited) (i’m not sorry)

a/n - i <3 george weasley. i also mean no snape slander, just making comments more realistic for the pov :)

!gif not mine!

“Whatcha doin’?” you asked as you walked into the almost-empty classroom.

George lifted his head from the boiling cauldron he was watching over when you entered, eager to share what he had created. 

“Well, my dear, Fred has instructed me to try and brew Amortentia so he can try and woo Angelica. He didn’t know how to do it, so I thought I’d step up and give it a try. I was the one that took the notes during Snape’s lecture, anyway,” he explained, winking at you playfully after the last part.

The boys were notorious for not paying attention in class, but George had recently begun to share your preference for potions class. After the night in the common room you shared, filled with fun stories and passionate rants about how useful a knowledge of potions could be, he seemed to become more interested in Snape’s lectures. George even made note to ask you to get together to share notes between quizzes and tests. You were glad that he was becoming more interested in school, but couldn’t stop wondering why he seemed so excited about a topic only after you had went on about your own love for it. Of course, you weren’t complaining, especially because now he seems to want to spend more time with you alone, and you’ve had a crush on him since the two of you were seated next to each other in 5th year charms.

“Is that so? Does Fred not seem to think he can woo her on his own?”

“Apparently not. He’s been trying too hard and thinks he’s overdone it. He’s asked her to the Yule Ball like 3 times already,” George says, chuckling over his brother’s endeavors.

“Yikes. He clearly didn’t inherit the charms of the family then,” you joked, nudging George’s arm with your elbow. He leaned forward towards your stature, smirking with intrigue at your comment.

“And who do you rather think inherited those genes?” he asked you playfully, his prideful smirk remaining on his beautiful, freckled face.

“Ah, well, I’d have to say Harry, being as your mother counts him as part of the family, and he seems to have more charm with the ladies than any of you!” you declared, smiling widely.

George tilts his head back, clutching his chest in faux agony.

“Oh how you wound me, dearest.”

The two of you share a charged moment of giggling before the moment got cut short with a terrible sound coming from the cauldron.

“Merlin, I forgot to keep stirring it!” George exclaimed, rushing over to the side of the cauldron once again.

Just as he reached the bubbling, smoking mixture, a popping sound and a wall of purple smoke filled the room in less than a second. Once the dust settled, you looked over at George only to fall into a fit of laughter at his appearance. The tall, muscular ginger was covered head-to-toe in a purple dust, which left not a part of his body uncovered. The tall man wiped his eyes, if only to playfully scowl at you laughing at him. Of course, he found your giggles so contagious, he couldn’t help but fall into a fit of them himself.

Once the laughter died down, you and George began walking back to his common room to clean up.

“Guess I’m going to need some help with that potion, too,” he chuckled.

⏃⏂⏃

The time was getting late, or so it felt like. Everyone else had left your common room, but George remained determined to finish the unit the two of you were working on. Snape had made a paper due in two days from when it was assigned, like the evil bastard he is, and you knew George was stressing. He was never very good at writing papers. Like the good friend you are, you had offered to help him, especially with his wording. He had gladly accepted, appreciating your help. Then, not only would the two of you get to spend time together, but you could help him become a better student, which was always a nice goal.

After the third question he answered was revealed to be wrong, George groaned and laid his head back on the common room couch seat, covering his face with his hands. You propped your arm up on the seat as well and turned your body to face George, trying not to let that beautiful groan go to places it shouldn’t. You were just friends, after all. 

“It’s alright George, I’m sure you know it. You just need a little break,” you comforted, laying a hand on his shoulder gently.

George released his hands from his face, allowing them to slide to his sides once more, and turned his head to face you. You could’ve sworn you saw a blush donning his cheeks as his eyes flicked ever so slightly towards your hand, but the moment passed just as quickly as it had appeared. His beautiful brown eyes glistened in the light coming from the fireplace, and a heat began to rush to your own cheeks. You wanted to blame that on the fireplace as well.

“Perhaps. Maybe we should put on some music. A little dance party never hurt anyone,” he suggested, a shit-eating grin beginning to take over his face.

With a nod of agreement from you, George popped up and put on a record. You groaned as you heard the first few notes of O’ Children by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds begin to play. Of course the man would put on a song he knew you couldn’t resist dancing to. He flounced over to where you were seated on the floor and reached out his hand, a glimmer of mischief lingering in his eyes. You grabbed his hand and he pulled you up to your feet so quickly it felt like you were flying for a second, so much so that you lost your balance and fell a bit forward into George’s arms. You were able to quickly gain your composure, giggling it off and turning your head away so he couldn’t see the redness that had climbed onto your cheeks. All George did was chuckle at you, and he began leading you with the hand he still held to the main area of the common room. The man used your hand to turn you around and begin the dancing he had suggested, and you couldn’t help but laugh. The two of you turned and swayed to the rhythm until you naturally fell into a close position, chests only inches apart, hands clasped together. It felt as if you were at last year’s Yule Ball, only this was much better, since you didn’t have a nervous Seamus stepping on your toes. You swayed to the music in perfect harmony, easily falling into an unspoken rhythm that always followed the two of you. George must’ve been thinking the same thing you were, because after a few more seconds of only the music filling the room, he spoke in a hushed tone.

“This is nice. I like dancing with you,” he smiled.

“I like dancing with you too, George. You’re surprisingly good at it.” George rolled his eyes playfully.

“Yeah, well, let’s just say I practiced to impress my date last year. Seems I was the only one out of the two of us,” he chucked, eyes gleaming with the memory. “She stepped on me so many times, I think I have permanent markings on my shoes.”

You giggled, sharing his pain.

“Poor little George,” you teased.

“Oh hush, you,” he fired, wrinkling his nose in the way that made your heart flutter.

After another quiet moment, he seemed to hesitate at saying something else. You piped up and bugged him to say what was on his mind, eager to hear what he had to say.

“I don’t know if it would be weird, but would you want to go to the Yule Ball with me this year? It would save us from having to scramble to find decent dates. And hey, if it’s anything like tonight, I think my shoes will be intact by the end of the night,” he chuckled, trying to make light of the question, but his arms had seemed to tense up a bit.

You smiled up at him, trying your best to not let him feel your nerves.

“Of course I’d like to go with you. I’m sure it’ll be amazing. I heard they were even trying to get Nick Cave come perform this year!”

George sighed and continued your conversation as the two of you continued to sway to the music, but you could’ve sworn his body relaxed with that breath of air. You tried to shake the thought off, because why would he be nervous about asking you to go to the dance? You were sure your crush was merely one-sided. Thinking he had any other feelings towards you would only lead to your own heartbreak, so you pushed the thoughts down and simply tried to enjoy this moment.

⏃⏂⏃

As the ball continued on, you and George couldn’t help but get restless. The music this year was terrible compared to last year, and somehow they managed to mess up the catering, so the pumpkin juice was watery at best. As the night droned on, you couldn’t help but want to get out of there. You knew it wasn’t proper, since it was the middle of the party, but you could tell most people were not having a good time by the amount of people secluding to their tables. 

George and you had danced a bit in the beginning, but the two of you agreed that it began to suck so bad it wasn’t even worth trying to jam to. Instead, you had found your way to your table with his brothers, and laughed the night away. The Weasleys never failed to make a boring event a good time. That is, until Fred began pestering George about the Amortentia. George tried to wave him off, but once Fred left, he seemed genuinely bothered by the fact he wasn’t able to brew it. As you thought more about what went wrong, it felt as if the idea just fell right into your lap.

“George, I know what went wrong. We can fix the potion for Fred!” you shared excitedly, placing your hand on his freckled arm. He turned to you, face lighting up.

“Really? We can do it right?” he asked excitedly.

“I think so! C’mon, then!” you exclaimed, standing from your chair.

“What? Now?”

“Yes, now! Would you rather stay here and watch Neville try to dance with your sister again? Because I assure you, they are the only ones having fun at the moment.”

George laughed, grabbing your hand.

“Let’s go, then,” he said, shit-eating grin returning to his beautiful features. 

⏃⏂⏃

George basically dragged you back to his dorm. Strangely, this was never how you pictured this happening. Yet, here you were. Honestly, his setup as a prefect was not too shabby at all. An entire room and bathroom to himself, a nice desk he could lay out papers and his cauldron on, a whole story above the main dorms? He was pretty much living the dream up there. 

The man eagerly began taking his notes from different books, all scattered along his desk. Though the man had his own space for once, you knew he still wouldn’t clean up after himself. Guys.

After about an hour that had only felt like mere minutes, the two of you had almost completely finished the potion. After decent care and proper mixing, there was only one step left to complete the most powerful love potion ever made.

“Alright then, the recipe says that you must add three drops of unicorn tears, exactly. No more, no less,” you explain.

“What happens if more is added? I don’t have the most reliable dropper,” George questions fretfully.

“Beats me. I’ve never seen it done in real life before. Just, be careful, I guess.”

George looks back at you, a worried look in his eyes as he turns to the cauldron.

“Now or never, I guess. Here we go... there’s one, two...”

Before George could finish his sentence, a cloud of dark red smoke erupts from the cauldron and fills the room. The two of you look to each other in horror, equally knowing that is not how the potion should act. 

“What did you do?” you questioned frantically.

“I don’t know! I guess the dropper malfunctioned and did two fast drops instead of only one! What’s it going to do?”

“I don’t know, don’t ask me! Do you think it’s going to explode again?”

The two of you look to the cauldron, which remained calm as ever. The smoke even began to settle. You sighed with a bit of relief.

“I don’t think so,” George answered. “Last time it did that because of the bubbles. It seems to be settling all by itself.”

Just as the you began to relax, thinking nothing was to come out of fucking up the potion, you noticed the smoke beginning to seep into George’s skin. You looked down at your legs to see it was doing the same to you. George didn’t seem to notice, and it didn’t feel like it was doing anything to your body, so the two of you decided to call it a night. 

You were in the process of going back to your dorm when all of a sudden, a burning desire settled into your lower abdomen. A sensation that you’ve never felt before began building and building, taking over your entire body by the second. Your body began feeling hot all over, and an all too familiar wetness began to pool in your panties. You rushed back to your dorm, and thankfully none of the other girls were back from the dance yet. You thought maybe satisfying yourself would make the world-burning desire subside, but even long after you finished and attempted to go to sleep, the feeling of needing more lingered in you. You tossed and turned, but no amount of sleepiness could satisfy your growing need. Giving in, you swiftly got out of bed and stormed over to George’s dorms, wondering if he was having the same affects as you.

Right as you were about to knock on his door, it swung open to the tall, flushed man glistening with sweat. George’s face was almost as red as his hair, but even in this condition, he was as beautiful as ever. The moment you saw him, the burning between your legs heightened. You tried to suppress your squirming.

“Hey,” George panted. “I was just coming to find you.”

He rushed you inside his room and locked the door quickly as you entered.

“What the fuck is going on?” you ask frantically, still trying to keep your movements under control, even when the itch to go up to George and kiss him was growing by the minute.

“I don’t know, one minute I’m fine, the next my skin feels like it’s on fire!”

“I know! What are we supposed to do?!”

“I don’t know that, either,” George gasped, throwing a hand into his sweaty but yet still perfectly curled hair. “We don’t know how long it takes to wear off. There’s no research in the school for this shit. I mean, I guess we can try doing it ourselves, but-”

“Doesn’t work,” you mutter, casting your eyes upon the ground. You desperately tried to hold yourself together as the dirty thoughts in your head became louder. “I tried.”

“You tri- oh. Okay, yeah. Wonderful,” he flushed more, if a such thing was even possible to do in his condition.

There was a nervousness to his voice, one that didn’t sound like it was stemming from the stress of the situation. The nerves felt like- like he was trying to hold desperately onto something he had been trying to keep for a while.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“I mean, I could be better. This isn’t the best situation to be in right now, especially with you.”

“Especially with me? What’s that got to mean?”

“Ugh, I just.. I don’t know, okay? I’m stressed out enough, I didn’t need this- predicament. I’m already dealing with enough feelings.”

Thanks George, how vague.

“I mean, you can always go fix it. I know you’ve got a crush on Angelina, but you don’t want Fred to find out. You were being weird around her all evening. I can tell she feels the same, if that’s what you’re worried about. If you so badly want this to be fixed, I’m sure she would be happy to help you out,” you explain, even though your heart feels like it’s tearing into two by telling him. 

You had seen the way Angelina had been looking at him all night. It made you sick, but you knew he was stressed about school, so if that push is what he needed to help him out, so be it. Who were you to keep him from his crush.

“Angelina? No! Even though Fred has a crush on her, I wouldn’t go for her anyway. I don’t like her like that. She’s not the one I would rather fix this with!” George exclaims, exasperated.

A pause. What? Who did he want to fix it with?

“Then who? Tell me whoever you’d like and I can try to track them down. I don’t want you stuck like this when you’ve got so much going on already.”

George shoves his hands in his hair again, letting out an exasperated and strained sigh. He plops on the side of his bed, that strong body of his looking weaker as he defeatedly sits there.

“You really don’t get it do you? Or do you enjoy seeing me in pain?”

Confused, your eyes flick to where they really shouldn’t have. There, sitting very uncomfortably in the leg of his loose basketball shorts, was a very large problem. The sight just about made your knees give out, and you stumbled back a bit to lean on the corner of George’s desk. Your mind flicked back to what he had said a moment ago. You really don’t get it.

“What do I not get?”

Another sigh.

“Have I not made it glaringly obvious? I try to study with you as much as I can, alone. I always make sure I play the songs that help your brain relax when you’re stressed. I make sure I sit on the right of you during classes so you can see the board. I asked you to the bloody Yule Ball. Can’t you see? I like you, okay? I always have,” George lets out like a wave of emotion. His hands fly up to cover his eyes, as if they were strained from stress or lack of sleep.

The fluttering in your chest begins again, but not the kind caused by the potion. George likes you? He likes you back? You heart begins beating so fast its sound fills your ears. A rush of emotions fill you. Happiness, clarity, regret of not seeing it sooner. You had pushed down the idea that he liked you for so long that you couldn’t see what was right in front of you! Now’s the time to make up for it, you guessed.

You walked slowly over to where George sat and faced him. Carefully, as if you were handling the most precious pottery, you moved your hands to remove his from his eyes. George looked up at you with his glimmering eyes full of questions, all of which you answered by leaning down and kissing him.

The moment your lips met, it’s as if time stopped. The most colorful fireworks seemed to flood your mind, because finally, you were kissing George, and he was kissing you back. He kissed you like he had been waiting for years, like you were his air and the two of you were underwater. His hands moved to cup your cheek and press along your back, pulling you closer to him until your bodies were flush against each other. The burning sensation along your entire body intensified, as if this is what the feeling was waiting for. George must’ve felt it too, because he let a groan seep into your kiss. Your legs almost gave out at the sound, and as quick as lightning, George flipped you so you were lying on the bed with him on top of you. Pausing to take a breath, George’s eyes flicked from your lips back to your eyes.

“You won’t believe how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” he admitted, eyes gleaming in the light from the fireplace.

“Me too,” you whispered, taking a moment to trace his features with the tip of your finger. His freckles, his strong nose, breathtaking smile. Your hand settled on his cheek, thumb rubbing up and down like he was the most precious thing you had ever held. Honestly, he was.

George leaned in to kiss you again, softer this time. You could feel all his emotion pouring into the kiss, almost gasping from the intensity you felt. You let him take his time with you, mapping out your every feature with his lips, planting loving kisses all over. It was more than pleasant to say the least, having someone you had loved in secret for years finally loving you right back. You could’ve stayed like that for hours, if it weren’t for the increasing pressure and sensation in your abdomen. You were sure George felt the heat rising as well, because with a glance, he began kissing down your neck, paying special attention to the spot that made you squirm underneath him. Before you knew it, he was kissing down your clothed chest. His eyes flicked to yours, as if asking a question, and you nodded, moving to remove your shirt.

Once it was across the room, George reached behind and unclasped your bra with such skill it seemed like he had practiced just for this moment. The rush made your heart pump fast with excitement and anticipation, but what it pumped with the most was love for this man. You could tell how much he cared from every glance up to your face, always with the question of consent. You happily gave it to him every time, knowing there was no one else in the world you’d rather share this moment with.

Once your top was fully unclothed, George’s mouth began trailing all over your body, taking special time to grasp each nipple between his teeth. With each flick of his tongue, you could feel the burning sensation growing, so you grasped onto George’s shoulder as if to warn him. The potion must’ve been giving him the treatment it had given to you, because he seemed to understand each of your movements perfectly. That, or he already knew you the meaning behind your movements because he had always paid such close attention to your body language. After gaining consent, George happily ripped the rest of your clothes off in seconds, and George’s fingers trailed down to the spot with the most intense burning. The spot you had been waiting for. After getting the okay from you and wetting his fingers, he slowly pushed two into you, curling them perfectly to hit the spot that made your body go haywire. George watched as your back rose off the mattress, as your beautiful eyes rolled back into your head with every curve of his fingertips. It was the most breathtaking sight he had ever seen. After using his other hand to press on your lower stomach gently in order to intensify the feeling, he dipped his head bow and his tongue went to work on your throbbing clit. The pleasure this man gave you was so intense and incredible he had you in tears in seconds, working you up to one of the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced. Every muscle in your body was on fire, the perfect man giving you pleasure combined with the power from the potion sending you over the edge in less than a minute. Your body seemed to set fire as the coil in your stomach snapped and the pleasure hit you like a wave all at once. George took a moment to take in your movements, in awe of everything you did. Without wasting any more time, George crawled back up to you and kissed you, wrapping the arm he used to prop himself up with around your arm to cradle you. You felt elated, wanting nothing more than to have more of this man. He brought his head back to look at you and slowly raised one of your legs to wrap around his torso, all without breaking eye contact. With a nod and a slow, sensual kiss, George slowly pushed into you, supporting your head with his arm as you threw it back in pleasure. The feeling of his rock hard length pushing in and out of you at an insanely slow pace was driving you insane, the burning sensation making it feel like your world had just set fire. 

“Faster,” you begged, grasping a hand on one of George’s large, muscular shoulders. 

He did as you commanded, speeding up his movements. He set an above average pace, both of you on the verge of snapping from the mix of heat and pleasure the potion was providing, and his freckled features turned into such a beautifully nasty expression that it should be either framed or illegal. George looked too good all riled up and sweaty, you admitted to yourself.

Before you knew it, the two of you were reaching your brink. George picked up the pace, pounding you into the mattress so hard you were surprised it hadn’t given out under you. He reached his free hand down to toy with your clit more, hoping to speed up and intensify the impending feeling about to wash over you. Together, the two of you released all the tension that had been building up since you began loving each other, and it all washed over you in such an intense and intimate wave. You couldn’t have asked for anything better, because you had it all. The beautiful man that laid on top of you, feeling completely worn out and boneless, was everything you knew he was, and even maybe a bit more. He was as perfect as a man could be, and the best part is that he adored you somehow even more than you adored him. The love and care you had for each other matched no other. You knew after this there was no going back, but you were okay with that, because you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #hp fanfiction #HP #Harry Potter #george weasley smut #george weasley fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #harry potter fluff #george weasley smu #g weasley #g. weasley #weasley twins #weasley #weasley smut #amortentia #love potion #sex pollen

[l0standn0tf0und]

damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes

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

words| +- 4400

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I thought she was Jade"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He fucked up. He knows it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So…?"

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

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

"George!…"

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

"George!…"

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

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

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

"George!…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bonus:

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

"But…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Galleons or Sickles?"

"What?"

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

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

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

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

masterpost

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[vilentia]

Physical Touch

George Weasley x reader

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

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

****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shook his head, confusion written across his face.

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

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

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

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

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley one shot #george weasley oneshot #george weasley angst #george weasley drabble #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fluff #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley x oc #george weasley x fem #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george weasley blurb

[hanasnx]

fell in love without you

MINORS DNI 18+ NOTES: everyone’s nineteen. WARNINGS: f!reader | you have a favorite twin | sexual content with said fave twin | dubcon kiss

FRED WEASLEY stands before you alongside his brother George. A seemingly world famous smug air about them, having charmed themselves by their own wit. Arms crossed, towering tall above the random passersby as they absentmindedly drone to their next class. Your hesitation spurs the twins on, exchanging a knowing and triumphant glance that says all as you tilt your head at them.

“Are you serious?”

One twin feigns offense. “Deadly serious.”

The other mimics him. “Gravely.”

“S’only fair, innit?”

“Game of guess the twin, guess wrong and you’ve got to give a kiss.” he repeats the game rules.

“For hurtin’ our feelin’s.” the other agrees.

You narrow your eyes with a huff through your nose. “You haven’t got any feelings. Now let me pass.” you demand, and attempt to cut through them but they’re connected at the shoulders to block your way from your corridor.

“Now that’s what you win if you guess right!” they say together. Did they rehearse this? You frown at them as you recoil, throwing your arm out to your side until your book pats the outside of your thigh.

“What? You scared? We both know you’ve got a little thing for me.” One shrugs.

“And me.” the other adds.

“We’re only helping you along.” they speak at the same time, in annoying twin-synchrony.

You give in. “Do you really think I can’t tell you apart?” Lazily, you point to the boy on the left. “Fred.” It transfers over to the boy on the right. “George.” They exchange another look amongst themselves, and adopt a crestfallen expression as their heads bow, stepping apart so you can enter. “See?” you taunt, passing them by. “Was that so hard? I’ll see you boys later—“

“Not so fast there, birdie.” You halt in your tracks at the sound of him speak. “I’m George.” You sigh hard and hang your head.

“I’m Fred. C’mon then, give us a kiss.” They’d faked you out, or they’re lying. Either way, you concede in order to satiate their egos, drawing back to the place where they wait for you. It’s only a kiss on the cheek anyway, and besides it wouldn’t reveal your true feelings towards your favored twin. You’re just friends, and that’s how it should stay. “Tha’s a good girl. Look at her comin’ back, George. She wants this just as much as we do.”

“A foolproof plan there, Fred, well done.”

“It’s practically your only pick-up line, boys. You could do far better.” you tease, and drop your satchel to the ground where it flops flat hopelessly, and toss your book to land onto the leather. “C’mon then, lean down.” They’re both much taller than you, sort of imposing if they weren’t so approachable when they wanted to be. George goes first, stooping to offer his cheek to you. Sweetly, you hook your arm around his neck for stability when you raise yourself to your toes, planting a chaste peck onto his cheek. His skin warms your nose, and he recedes as you do. When you meet Fred’s gaze, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you, and you feel yourself heat up in anticipation. He does as George did, stooping but it’s a little gentler, dragging it out. There’s a mischievous curl to his lips and you sense he plots something. So you idle while you figure him out, until he interrupts you.

“Oi, wha’s wrong with you? Go on, pay up.” and you snap out of it, doing as you did with George. Your arm hooks loose around his neck, hand splayed on the cuff of his shoulder. While you raise yourself to meet his cheek, the tips of your toes bearing your weight, and things seem to move in slow motion. An arm straps around your waist, arching you into him as he turns at the last second, drawing you into a kiss. A real one. You emit a noise of surprise as he deepens it, seizing the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips during your squeak. Out of shock, you take a fair bit of time to register, eyes flying open as you pat hard against his chest. You can’t push him off, but he pulls back after he’s made his point.

Hastily, you adjust your uniform with a gaping mouth. “Fred!” you scold while they snicker, you took notice of how George averted his eyes beforehand, so he’d known of Fred’s trick. Perhaps Fred put him up to it. Some innocent game that allows Fred an in to make a proper move on you. Or some sort of malicious advantage over your feelings. Out of embarrassment or fury, your hands pat hard on each of them, banging your fists against whatever is within reach as their laughs feather out when they flinch and try to catch your hands. When they escape, and you realize you’re desperately tardy, you have to let them go, calling out your vow of revenge after them.

“Where’s that vow of revenge now, ey?” breathless words spoken into your ear as Fred ruts into you. Hidden under the hot covers of your bed, he keeps you close with strong arms encasing you, pressing you to him as you lay on your sides. You claw the sheets for purchase, clutching onto the fabric to keep yourself grounded as he moves inside you. Careful, gentle, deliberate. Everyone’s sleeping. If anyone found out a boy snuck into your girls’ dormitory you’d be toast. His breath sends tingles up your spine, squeezing your eyes shut in the dark as you focus on where your bodies conjoin. Sticky and wet, Fred sheathes fully with a buck of his hips, and involuntarily you whimper. A large hand cups your mouth to silence you. “Keep quiet,” he whispers and you nod against him. “Didn’t take you for a bad girl, birdie, you’re a proper troublemaker.” he tells you, barely audible, his lips moving against your ear as his hips circle, welcomed by your sex, he can’t help but soak a second. “You wanna get caught, don’t you?”

You can’t answer, shaking your head against his hand and you feel his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Is that right?” he goads, unconvinced. He shifts, gradually picking up a steady pace. “Should we give ‘em a real show then?”

#1k #indy: drabbles #ch: fred #fred weasley drabble #weasley twins x reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x y/n #weasley twins imagines #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley imagine #george weasley x y/n #fred weasley x fem!reader #george weasley x fem!reader #golden trio era #fred weasley headcanons #george weasley headcanon #golden trio x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fic

[apparentlytheproblem]

𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙄 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩

pairing(s)- george weasley

a/n: Its been a while hoes :) , so im happy that i'm expanding the characters i write for, hope you're happy with how this turned out :) with so much love, teddy

requested- yes

warnings- none i hope

Georgie Weasley was the one with all the cards up his sleeve and plenty of quick retorts and answers. And today he managed to climb up her window and perch himself upon its sill, his favourite spot in the entire world. okay, maybe after being in your arms.

What she wouldn't have given to see Molly have a look at her son now, her son who promised his dear mother that he was going to retire a bit early since how absolutley exhausting his day was.But then again, this was the most George Weasley coded thing to do.

Wouldn't you look at him now? sneaking around and climbing fences to spends a few hours to see his girl.

It was past twelve, a perfect hour for a certain redhead to keep good company.

Just the sight of her would have been enough for Georgie dearest, even just letters, but georgie has always been marked as an overachiever. So why would he not take a few risks to see a sight as pretty as them? maybe stick around a little bit, I mean he'd just do about anything for a hug that would stop his heart.

That's all the Weasley needed, that and maybe a kiss to keep him warm on the way back?

"Hello gorgeous"

gorgeous?

"Hi handsome" she retorted now standing pressed up against the door.

as one hand snaked up her waist and the other arm leaned his weight on the door as he leaned in ever so carefully for a kiss. she melted. absolutley melted into him, entranced by the 'i miss you' s and 'i adore you' s between each one.

her palms squished his face as his knee made its retirement between her thighs.

"you missed me?" she cheekily whispered playfully.

another kiss landed on her forehead

"mhm so much" he whispered resting his forehead on hers, tucking strands of loose hair behind her ears, with his thumb caressing their cheek

#george weasley angst #george weaslsey x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley blurb #george weasley smut #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #harry potter fluff #harrypotterimagines #harry potter imagine #harrypotterimagine #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #george weasley x fem

[georgie-weasley]

Spontaneous G.W. x Reader

Warnings: one swear word

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Summary: You were rich, pretty, smart, and everything George wasn't. According to George, you were untouchable. He admires you from afar until he learns that you are human, just like him

Masterlist

“I think you’ve got enough strawberries George.” Fred laughed, waving his hand in front of George’s face. George blinked, coming out of a trance to finally tear his eyes away from the girl that had him captivated and look at his plate. He had about 15 strawberries dangerously stacked next to his toast and waffles. Ten minutes ago he had been starving, ready to eat Fred if he had to until you walked in, laughing with your friends. He didn’t even see you at first since he was so preoccupied picking out his breakfast but he heard you. Someone must have said something hilarious because your laugh seemed to echo around the Great Hall, bombarding George from all angles. He loved it. Your laugh sounded like the crescendo in a song, taking his breath away. He had been red in the face and sweaty before he even saw you. When he finally did look at you, it was all over. You moved so gracefully, you could have been floating. George watched you talk with your friends and when he saw your smile, he forgot all about his grumbling stomach.

Fred turned to look over his shoulder and when he caught sight of you, he rolled his eyes and turned back to his brother. “Here’s an idea Georgie,” Fred grumbled, “stop staring at her and go talk to her.”

“Yeah mate, it’s weird. I’m uncomfortable for her.” Lee Jordan chimed in, reaching across the table to grab some toast.

“I will have you know I have talked to her.” George huffed, carefully dismantling Strawberry Tower, moving the discarded ones onto Lee’s plate.

“Talking about the weather doesn’t count.” Lee snorted, happily eating the food now added to his plate. George opened his mouth to retort but Lee continued. “Neither does telling her good morning or asking her about the homework.”

“Or apologizing when you ‘accidentally’ bump into her in the halls.”

George glared and threw a strawberry, aiming for Fred’s nose. Much to his disappointment, Fred ducked and the strawberry rolled away. “I have talked to her. Small talk counts as talking if you didn’t know.”

Lee rolled his eyes. “Sure but you’ve been in love with her since third year. Small talk isn’t going to make her fall for you. Just go up to her and tell her you’re in love with her and hope she feels the same. If she doesn’t,” Lee shrugged, “at least you know.”

“That is the stupidest thing you have ever said Lee. And you once asked McGonagall if she licks herself clean when she’s a cat.” The three boys shuddered at the memory. “I’ll talk to her about something normal. Something that will make her want to keep talking to me.”

---

“Do you ever wonder if McGonagall licks herself clean when she’s a cat?” George stood in front of you, hands sweating and his eyes going wide as he realized what just came out of his mouth. Something normal indeed.

“Pardon?” You cocked your head to the side, watching George with those beautiful eyes he could spend forever staring into.

“I just mean that maybe she acts like a cat does and that’s how they bathe. So maybe she…” He trailed off, hearing the giggles coming from your friends behind you. “Sorry, that was… weird.”

You smiled and George could feel his heart stop. He was going into cardiac arrest, he just knew it. “A little but a very good question all the same.”

He died. There was no way he was alive. The real you would have never even entertained his question, let alone call it a good one. He stared at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open. He should say something, something smooth. If he could just lay on the charm like Fred does so well, you’d be putty in his hands. “Do you think that means she goes to the bathroom in a box?” Oh. My. God.

George spun on his heel and took off sprinting down the hall. He was the biggest idiot on the planet.

George lay in his bed, hands covering his face as Fred and Lee practically rolled on the floor with laughter. “So you– I mean you really asked her if McGonagall uses… a box?” Lee burst into another fit of giggles as Fred gasped for air. “George, I think you did it mate. I think she’s in love with you now.”

A scarf came flying from the bed, landing harmlessly on Lee. “I hate both of you!” George grabbed his pillow, burying his face in it. The laughter died down and once the other two felt they could talk without falling into another laughing fit, they climbed onto his bed.

“George, you’ve never had this much trouble talking to a girl before. You’ve always been pretty smooth. Not like me but you have never struggled to talk to anyone. Why is she so different?” Fred grabbed the pillow, making sure his twin was still breathing.

“Why is she different? Have you not seen her, Fred?” George sat up, looking at his hands. “First of all she’s gorgeous. Ethereal. Stunning. All that and more. She’s funny. I’ve heard her make a few jokes and they’re great; some of them are almost as good as ours. She’s smart and talented and nice and just perfect. That’s the problem.” He sighed and glanced at his brother and friend, glad to see they were now taking him seriously. “She’s from this really well off family. Her parents are both ministry workers but not like dad, they have important jobs. Her family has been full of powerful witches and wizards for centuries but they have never acted like others are less than. I heard she’s been ballroom dancing since she was seven. Her family is rich. She's a lady and I’m just…George Weasley. She would never want to talk to me. Or date me for that matter.”

This had not been the first time George or any of the other Weasley boys had felt less than because of what they didn’t have. George had never seen your house but he assumed it was big enough to fit the Burrow inside it at least three times. He knew your family had money. Meanwhile the Weasleys were just scraping by. You were the kind of girl that should have been a princess while George was nothing more than a stable boy. Not even the court jester because a jester would have to be able to speak to you.

“George, you aren’t giving her a chance to give you a chance. You’re making her seem untouchable. She’s human too.” Fred patted him on the back and smiled. “I say, tomorrow you talk to her, like a person. Talk to her like you talk to me.”

“So I should call her a stupid git?” George smirked before getting a pillow to the face.

---

Today was Saturday and just as he had promised, George was going to talk to Y/N. He just had to find her. He checked out the Great Hall and there was no sign of you. Then he checked out any open classrooms he could find and you weren’t there either. He went to the library and had no luck. In fact, he was kicked out for yelling your name while looking for you. By this time, George was exhausted and sure his legs would fall off any minute if he didn’t sit down soon. The lake was close enough that he could kill two birds with one stone; he could look for you and take a break before his lack of legs would make it very easy to tell the difference between him and Fred. As luck would have it, he spotted you sitting under a tree not too far from the edge of the lake. His heart willed him to move toward you but his brain kept his feet firmly planted. This was stupid. He should leave you alone and move on to find some girl that would make more sense. Someone that was not out of his league. At some point, his heart convinced his brain to start walking toward you. The first thing he noticed was the letter in your hand and the next thing he saw were the tears on your cheeks. Yikes. Just back away slowly Georgie, he thought to himself. Take small, quiet steps and you can sneak away before—

“George?”

Shit. He plastered on his best smile and tried to pretend like you weren’t crying right in front of him. “Hey there Y/N. How are you? Probably not great considering the… crying.” George closed his eyes, mentally slamming his head on the nearest tree. It was honestly amazing how great he was at screwing up. He should be given some kind of award. “I’m so sorry. I just walked over and saw you crying and I don’t know what to do with crying people and I’m really nervous to screw up here.” Neither spoke for a minute as you looked up at him. Seeing your usually sparking eyes filled with tears broke his heart, shattered it actually. All he wanted to do was take you in his arms and make it all better. Just talk to her like a person.

Slowly, George approached you, afraid you would take off running or yell at him. When you made no move to sprint away, he sat next to you. “I’m sorry. You make me really nervous but I’m a good listener. Do you want to talk about what’s wrong?”

You were silent for a long time but he didn’t dare move or talk. Honestly, he didn’t think you would tell him what was wrong because why would you? Fred and Lee were right. He had only ever had small talk with you.

“It’s my parents.” Your voice was so soft George almost didn’t hear you. Oh. George nodded in what he hoped was an encouraging way. “You know they’re in the ministry right?” Boy did he know. George had heard from his father about your parents. Your father was part of the Wizengamot, the part of the ministry that makes laws and holds trials. He was a big name in the ministry. Your mother was part of the Department of International Magic Co-Operation. Her whole job involved getting wizards and witches in other countries to work together. She played a big part in getting Durmstrang and Beauxbatons to come to Hogwarts this year for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. George’s father was also in the ministry but his job was practically the least important position there was. He spent his days finding Muggle items that had been tampered with and reporting them, even if he committed the same crime in his free time. He didn’t make much money at all and it left the family of nine struggling.

“Yeah, my dad has mentioned them a few times.” He tried not to sound bitter as he answered you but it was hard not to.

“They want me to join the ministry when I graduate. They made sure my grades were perfect and after taking my O.W.L.s, they hand picked my classes and set me on the path to join the ministry. My mother even signed me up for a summer program at the ministry just so I have a better chance at joining.” You took a deep breath and looked over at George. You had fresh tears in your eyes as you continued. “I don’t want to join the ministry. They have such high expectations of me and I don’t want to let them down but I don’t want to be in the ministry.”

“What do you want to do?” George understood where you were coming from. Him and Fred had plans and dreams to open a joke shop, something their mother did not support. She wanted them to finish school and get some boring job like the rest of the wizarding world. They didn’t want to disappoint her either but their happiness had to come first at least sometimes. George and Fred would never be happy sitting behind a desk all day or chasing down bewitched muggle items. They wanted to bring joy and raise up a new generation of delinquents. That was the dream.

“Well,” you started as you turned to look at the lake, “I think I want to be a healer. I’ve always been good at potions and herbology and basic spells used for healing.”

“And your parents don’t want you to do that?” As you shook your head, George scoffed. “Why? I think being a healer is a perfectly respectable job. You aren’t trying to run off and live in a cave for the rest of your life.”

You let out a small laugh and George felt like he was floating. He made you laugh after you had been crying. He could die happy. “I agree with you but they think that working for the ministry is the only job worth having. They just want me to be successful. They’ve spent my whole life preparing me for the future they want me to have. Dance lessons and internships and anything else that makes me into whatever it is they want me to be.”

“Happiness is more important than success. Who says that being happy doesn’t mean you’re successful?” George ran his fingers through the grass. “My mother sounds a lot like your parents. Fred and I want to open up a joke shop. She thinks that we’ll be throwing away our potential if we go ahead with it.”

You looked back at George and watched him closely as he kept his eyes on the ground. He was pretty. He had the warmest brown eyes you had ever had the pleasure of looking at. “I think a joke shop sounds like a wonderful idea. Personally I can’t imagine you or Fred working at the ministry or any normal job for that matter.” George laughed and nodded. “What will you do?”

He thought for a moment, continuing to look at the ground because he knew as soon as he looked at you, he would forget everything. “Fred and I are opening the joke shop when we have the money. I think our mother will be disappointed for a while but we aren’t made to work in an office. Besides, she’s our mother so our happiness should take priority over anything else.”

“I wish I could be like you George. You sound like you have everything.”

He turned his head to look at you so quickly he thought he snapped his neck at first. You thought he had everything? You were jealous of him? “I thought you had everything. A big house, rich parents, grades, popularity. You have everything.”

You shook your head and smiled at him. “Really? I always wanted a big family that would spend time together. You have always seemed so sure of yourself and confident. You don’t let anyone tell you what to do or who to be. George, you’re spontaneous and perfectly you. I wish I could be like that.”

George smiled as your eyes found his and then time stopped. He was distantly aware of the wind rustling the trees and the sounds of other students talking but all he could see was you. Your eyes, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. “Then let’s do something spontaneous.” With great effort, George tore his gaze away from you and looked around. The lake caught his eye. “Come swimming with me.”

He grabbed your hand and stood, pulling you to the lake until you stood at the edge. Without waiting for you, George ran into the water, dressed in jeans and his t-shirt. Behind him, you stood at the bank. Should you be doing this? Probably not but it would make you happy. George made you happy. It was time to put your happiness first. You took off after him, squealing at the cold water. “You didn’t say it was this cold!”

“I didn’t want it to scare you away.” George laughed, cupping his hand to launch water at you. The water slammed into you and with a harmless glare, you retaliated, sending your own wave of water at him. The two of you continued to splash each other until George held up his hands in defeat.

As you both caught your breath, George moved to sit on the bank, the water lapping at his feet. You took a seat next to him and bumped your shoulder against his. “What do you plan to do now?” He asked, bumping you back.

“I’m going to tell my parents I don’t want to be in the ministry. I’ll talk to my head of house about switching some courses around to get on the right path to becoming a healer.”

George smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

He looked at you and you looked at him. George saw you like no one else. He heard you complain about your parents and instead of siding with them, as most people did, he agreed with you. He thought your happiness mattered more than what your parents wanted. “Thank you George.”

“For what?”

“For listening, making me laugh, making me feel… human.” You leaned over and kissed his cheek before standing. “I should go write that letter to my parents. I wouldn’t want to lose all the nerve you gave me.”

George watched you go, his hand coming up to the spot where your lips had touched his cheek. His face turned red as he replayed the kiss over and over again. Fred and Lee were not going to believe this. They were going to kill him if he just let you walk away after that. He clambered to his feet and sprinted after him. “Y/N! Wait!” He waved his arms, trying to get your attention. You stopped in your tracks and looked back at him, watching him chase after you.

“Yes George?”

“I was… Well I was wondering if you’d like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?” He held his breath, waiting for the rejection to come.

“I would love to. I’ll see you later Georgie.” With another kiss to his cheek, you walked off. Next Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #fred weasley #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic

[i314flix]

ONE MORE KISS !

— george weasley x fem!reader | the one where you wait for george, who volunteers to be one of the seven potters, at the burrow.

( 1.1k words ) pg-15; fluff, semi-angst, established relationship au; unedited.

This was nerve-wracking. You didn’t even know why you agreed to be on this side of the team despite being aware that you were perhaps better in the field (being an aspiring Auror and a good one at that), and was absolute rubbish when it came to waiting.

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 were 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 pushed you out of your trance and you stood up from your seat to run outside, quickly followed by Ginny who had been quiet and pacing around the house in anxiety before she heard the crash too.

It was Hagrid and Harry, the real Harry you presumed as Ginny launched towards him so that they could embrace. You let out a breath, relieved that he was here unharmed, but admittedly not relieved enough as there was still no sign of George.

Though as if on cue, two men suddenly appeared on the right side of the lawn via apparition and you recognized them to be Remus and George immediately, with the latter being supported by the former.

It dawned on you that George was injured. The side of his head was bleeding.

“I’m good, I’m all good,” were the first words he uttered to you once you were close, grabbing his other arm so you and Remus can carry him to the Burrow together.

You couldn’t reply. Your heart was thumping so hard inside your chest. You were just thankful that he at least still had the strength to stay conscious and talk to you as he was being led to the sofa.

Once he was laid there, Remus approached Harry while you rushed to get some medical supplies that could help his condition. Molly tended to George then, brushing his hair and whispering thanks that he didn’t arrive in a worse condition, before she went to you and said that you can be in charge of George as she waits for her other family members’ arrival.

“Sweetheart,” George murmured, staring at you kneeling beside him and taking out a bunch of bandages and some healing potion to help with his blown up ear, “I’m fine, I promise.”

Still, no sentence was spoken. You remained acting busy, just rummaging through the medical kit even though you’ve already got what you needed. You were annoyed by what he just said, but you didn’t want to show it, aware that it might be ridiculous to do so as it wasn’t like George wished to get himself hurt.

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

You didn’t oblige. You just zipped the bag close and placed it on the floor.

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

You finally looked at him, his eyes turning soft at the way yours started to water. You were a strong girl, he knew that, and you didn’t like showing your vulnerability to anyone or in any circumstances unless it greatly affected you—and judging by how you were forcing yourself not to cry or show too much emotion because of what happened to him, it was clear to him that you were so affected by this and that he indeed made you worry so much to the point of wanting to sob.

“I’m okay,” he said 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, love.”

You inhaled sharply, a lame attempt to stop yourself from fully crying, and nodded. “It is.”

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

“It’s still an ear, nonetheless.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got another one.”

You closed your eyes momentarily. There was no point in arguing. “Whatever. Let me start—” you were supposed to pull your hand away from his chest to start healing him but he stopped you. “What?” you asked.

“Give me a kiss.”

“A kiss?”

“A kiss, yes.”

“George, you’re still bleeding and—”

“Just one, please,” he cut you off once more. “I thought I almost didn’t make it, you know. 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 had a peculiar mind. You ought to think that there were better things to think of when you were perhaps on the brink of death, and yet what he was thinking of was that he never gave you a proper kiss on the lips.

“You’re a bloody idiot, love,” you said, leaning in to give him one peck on the lips, “and quite literally too, that is.” You gave him another kiss, this one fuller and with George placing a hand on your back to press you further towards him.

It was only when the both of you heard Fred cough that you pulled away, glancing behind you to see his twin brother looking at him with worry.

“Sorry to steal him away from you, ____,” Fred said as you stood up, granting him the permission to go to your previous spot. “Just had to check on this clumsy git.”

You chuckled, hugging Fred quickly too in gratefulness because he was fine as well, before going to the kitchen and preparing something for the whole lot to eat with Molly.

As you waited for the water to boil for some tea, you leaned on the counter and gazed towards George who was still conversing with Fred.

The moment your eyes met for a brief second, he had the nerve to wink.

You smiled.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagines #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #weasley imagines #weasley x reader #george x reader #george weasley fanfiction

[writing-wh0re]

“Read it to me, darling.”

♥ pairing: george weasley x fem!reader

♥ summary: Based on this ask “you're reading a book and its so good, you dont notice george back from pratice. So he wants to test how much you love the book. ”

♥ warnings: smut 18+, oral, male performing oral, smut book (?), fingering, pussy eating, smut with little to zero plot.

♥ wc: 1090

♥ masterlist & taglist

You were surprised how quickly you were getting through this book. Determined and excited to start the third instalment in the series. 

George had been out for hours, you had noticed the rain softly washing against the window, wondering when he would pop back in to see you again. Although it wouldn’t surprise you if he kept practising in the rain. 

You eyes skim over the words, a small smile on your face as Archer and Astrid, the two main characters finally shared their first kiss. You continue to read ahead, pulling the strawberry lollipop from your lips as you turn the page, excitement filling your body. You place the sweet back in your mouth, sinking down into the bed a little bit more, knowing your coming up to the juicy part of the novel. Small butterflies fill your stomach as Archer and Astrid pine over each other, both taking their relationship to the next level, solidifying their love. 

“Love?”

“Sweetheart?”

Your book falls into your lap, your face a slight tint of pink, eyes adjusting to the man in front of you. Slightly wet with rain and sweat, his shirt off and on the end of the bed. Your eyes rake over his body, your mind wandering back to your book as you rub your thighs together, which doesn’t go as unnoticed as you thought. 

“Sorry.” You shake your head, pulling the blanket up your body, feeling a slight shame for being caught with smut. 

George smirks, taking the lollipop from between your lips, slightly glossy with sticky strawberry residue and spit. He places the sweet in his mouth, his hand under your chin. Tilting your face to look up at him. 

“Love, don't tell me I’m losing you to your book boyfriend.” 

You pout slightly, before you can speak the lollipop is back against your lips. You frown, swirling your tongue around the sweet, watching George’s eyes lock onto your actions as the bed dips under his weight, him resting on his knees in front of you. 

“Please keep reading.” He insists, a swift wink sent your way. Moving the blanket off your legs. 

A gasp falls past your lips, your fingers gripping the stem of the lollipop to ensure its safety. 

“George, I don’t-”

He places his hand around your throat, his face inches from yours, the sweet smell of strawberry wafting between you. 

“Shh, darling, I simply can’t take you away from this book, I’ll occupy myself.” 

George grabs the book from your lap, his eyes quickly skimming the words, a small smirk on his lips. He tuts, shaking his head before, his fingers tracing down the top of your thighs, slipping between your legs, tracing the outside of your panties. 

“Ah, no wonder your panties are wet.” 

Blush creeps across your face, your eyes slightly wide as the embarrassment of him reading the smut washes over you. You bury your head in the book, wishing it would swallow you and help you escape this shame. 

George chuckles, laying down on his stomach, his lips kissing up your thighs, biting the soft skin with every second kiss. 

“I want to know who you prefer by the end.”

His fingers hook inside your panties, pulling them down your legs. 

“Me or your fictional man.” 

You roll your eyes, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“Don’t be like that.” You mumble, his warm breath fanning against your folds. 

“If you stop, I stop.” His tongue softly licks up and down your slit, an eruption of butterflies soars through your stomach. 

“George.” You whisper moan, heat filling your body. 

“Don’t stop love, I'm enjoying this.” 

You sigh, picking the book up and resuming where you left off. George kisses your folds, his tongue slipping back between them, circling your clit while you re-read the same sentence. 

Fuck, this is harder than it seems. 

“Yes.” You moan, your grip on the book tightening, your hips rocking slightly. 

“Read it to me, darling.” 

“Uh.” The sound falls from your lips as his wraps around your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud. Your eyes lock with his as he softly drags his tongue up your slit. 

“Enlighten me, I won’t ask again.” 

You nod, quickly picking the book back up and finding where you left off while George continues to play with your pussy. You clear your throat before reading aloud to him. 

“Archer gripped Astrid's hair, his hand pulling the strands around his palm. He liked the contrast between her red locks and his skin. He continued to thrust into her with heated passion- Fuck George uh.”

George chuckles against your clit, his fingers now slowly pulling in and out of you. 

“Astrid moaned something that caused Archer to slow his thrusts, wanting to hear- fuck just like that - wanting to hear more of what she could offer him. He knew if he kept it at this pace she would beg, a situation Archer only dreamt of. Astrid rocked her hips back, Archer's grip tightening on the strands of hair, pulling her back against his chest, his hands falling from her fiery red locks and groping - George Oh- her bo- Yes, Yes, uhh - her boobs.” 

Your head tilts back, George's pace picking up both his fingers and his tongue. The book falls on your chest, your finger tangling in his hair, chasing your hair. You rock your hips against his lips, his hands slipping under you and squeezing your ass, helping to support your slightly elevated angle. 

“I’m close.” 

George simply responds by humming against your clit, his fingers curling inside of you. Your back arches off the bed, your book falling off your chest and onto the floor with a small thud. 

“C-cumming” You moan, your vision blurry as you squeeze your eyes shut.Your teeth biting against the strawberry lollipop as it shatters in your mouth. George slows his actions, small aftershocks shooting through your body, your legs twitching. You release a deep sigh as George pulls his fingers out of your pussy, his lips glistening with a mix of your wetness and cum. 

He reaches for the lollipop stick between your teeth. You simply open your mouth showing him the shattered remnants as he smirks, leaning forward and capturing your tongue in his mouth. Intertwining his with yours and savouring the strawberry flavour before pulling away with a lick of his lips. 

“You should read to me more often.” 

You simply blush, hiding your face in your hands and pulling the blanket back up over your legs. 

Taglist: @horrorxweasley @maybesandohnos @skarlettmikaelson @mathletemadison @wahooyahoo17 @zagreusdaughter @alina02 @addymartinsstuff @rebeldotty88 @peterpan-neverfails @thehumanistsdiary @anonreaderas @i-love-scott-mccall @sunshinemunchkin @themoonis-beautiful-tonight @veryspookybatbabe @uwiuwi @anythingandeverything97 @fckve @darling2800

#writing-wh0re-requests #george weasley smut #smut #george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley headcanon #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x oc #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley imagine #george weasley one shot #george weasley oneshot #george weasley x fem #george weasley x fem reader #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x ravenclaw!reader #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley sex #george weasley x reader insert #george weasley fanfic #weasley twins smut #the weasley twins #weasley twins #fanfiction #hp requests #hp rec #hp recs #hp fandom

[iheartmysun]

George Pining For You During Valentines

(headcanons)

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

• you can bet that he'd be daydreaming about valentines day before february even started

• he can hardly believe that you've denied everyone that has asked you to be their valentine

• it makes him wonder if he has a chance

• would try to work up the nerve to ask you out

• but would back out when he actually had opportunities to do so

• he's just nervous about messing up

• george is also worried that you'd reject him like everyone else who has asked you

• he'd definitely write about you in a journal or something of the sorts

• there's just so much built-up emotion! he HAS to be able to put it somewhere, even if it's just on paper (for now)

• of course you'd drop hints here and there, so of course he'd somehow convince himself that you weren't actually trying to get his attention in that way

• george is possessive over you, but not in a way that comes off as toxic! it's so much softer than that

• it's just that you're you, and what else could possibly be better than you?

• he knows that rationally, you'd never leave him. even if you didn't reciprocate his feelings

• but he still stresses over it. even if he knows that thought is silly

• he's honestly just so endeared and enamoured by you

• in his eyes, you're the brightest star in the sky

• your entire being puts the most beautiful of skies to shame

• he sometimes wonders how a person like you could even exist

• you see straight through him and he loves it

• he couldn't be more appreciative of feeling so seen

• knowing him so well probably plays into why he acts so awkwardly during such a season

• maybe you aren't saying anything because you don't feel the same. or maybe you just haven't noticed

• it throws him for a loop, and he just can't seem to stop worrying about it

• you've caught his attention and he doesn't plan on looking away anytime soon

• it's hard not to give with just how remarkable you've been

• there's not a single thought in his mind that could possibly conjure up a concept of being with anyone else but you

• and yet here he finds himself, not saying a word

• stealing as many sly glances as he can

• not noticing the glances that you steal back

• sneaking a heart covered card and sweets to your dorm will have to do for the time being

• even if it kills him (just a bit)

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

Thank you to @george-weasleys-girl for the prompt! Make sure to go check out the Season of Love Event, everyone! ♡

#george weasley #george weasley fluff #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley oneshot #george weasley imagine #george weasley headcanon #season of love event

[dearharriet]

"you're really red right now." with george weasley? and congrats on 150! 🥳

thank you sm for the request! <3 (wc: 851)

Swinging under the restricted access rope, you climb the stairs to the twins’ annex two at a time. Behind you, the store is mostly quiet, except for Fred’s loud singing as he feeds the pygmy puffs.

The banister is creaky when you lean on it, so you’re sure George can hear you coming. His door is open, so you let yourself in, announcing yourself with a rap on the stained pine trim.

“Fred says you’re hiding, but I can’t imagine what from,” you say instead of hello. “Certainly not me, I hope?”

George glances away from his books, halfway through a bite of takeaway. His mouth stills its chewing as he blinks owlishly at you. His hair is all askew, likely from tugging at it in concentration, and he has a tiny speck of sauce on his chin. You’d probably find it embarrassing if you didn’t like him so much.

“Sorry, hello,” you amend, realizing you caught him unawares. He remains frozen, though his jaw starts working to rid itself of the food that’s keeping him silent.

“Hi,” he ekes out, “on your break, are you?”

You hum affirmatively, coming around his desk to converse more privately with him.

“Yeah, and I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this idea I have for a product we could release near Christmas,” you ramble, leaning a hip against his desk and crossing your arms. George is staring up at you like you’re a star he’s never seen before. “A red-hot cocoa. We could infuse dragon peppers into the mix—to make it really spicy, yknow?”

George doesn’t look too convinced. If anything, he looks like he hasn’t heard you at all.

“I know it’s sort of similar to flaming fudge, but I thought the effect of making it themselves might add intrigue for customers,” you continue, starting to feel a little bit embarrassed.

Silence stretches just long enough to be uncomfortable, emphasized by an especially loud zzzzzziiiiiip from downstairs.

Biting your lip, you wince. “George?”

He blinks, seeming to come alive again, somewhat.

“Did you do something to your hair?” he asks out of the blue.

You frown. “You didn’t hear what I said, did you?”

To his credit, George looks terribly guilty in the face of your accusation. He takes it in stride, too, despite being every color of wrong.

“Is that what you were telling me about?” he asks.

Sighing, you take his loosened tie and shake it around in teasing frustration. There was a time when doing something as familiar as that would make you feel unprofessional, but you know better now.

“No. I was telling you about my idea for a new product.”

George’s mouth opens and closes silently, searching for words. He looks hot around the collar, from embarrassment or flustering or both. You like to tease him like this, because upon meeting him, he didn’t seem the type to be fazed by flirting at all.

Feeling maniacal, you take the opportunity to wipe away the food still on his chin, letting your touch linger a hair longer than necessary. The color in George’s neck shoots up to his pale cheeks, giving him the hue of a ripe strawberry.

“Merlin, George,” you muster through a grin, “you’re really red right now.”

He ducks his head then, ardently avoiding any inch of you he can. Cursing, he presses the backs of his hands to his cheeks to cool them.

“Sorry.” He steals a glance at you, his brows furrowed in what might be confusion. “Remind me what your idea was?”

You accommodate him, running the idea past him again, with more confidence this time. You don’t mind wasting your break away talking, at least not with George.

“Hot cocoa,” he repeats, rubbing his chin. You weren’t expecting a promotion or anything, but his mild response worries you. “We could workshop it together, yeah?”

“Sure,” you say, nerves winding tight in your chest. “If you’re not too busy.”

“Honestly, I haven’t done any work since an hour ago,” he admits. “Is it busy downstairs?”

You strain to listen past George’s office, down the stairs in the popular shop. It’s easy to make out the fizzing lightning effects and the siren-like sounds that engulf the love potion display, but any real crowd bustle is absent.

“Hardly,” you say.

George pushes up from his chair, making for his door. “Good,” he says, “we can start now.”

He closes the heavy door, and then retrieves a cauldron and hauls it over to his desk. Before he sets it down, though, he holds it up in front of your face.

“In case you were wondering why I thought you did something to your hair,” he explains, “it’s because someone did something to your hair.”

In the warped reflection on the brass cauldron you can see yourself—and your flaming pink hair.

“Merlin, I look like Tonks.”

George laughs at that, dropping the heavy basin onto the rich mahogany table. He doubles back to his shelves again to collect some ingredients.

“Any idea who did it?” he prompts.

You roll your eyes.

“Yeah. He looks a lot like you.”

+

thank you for reading! xx

masterlist

join the celebration!

#harriet’s 150 celebration #george weasley #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x fem #george weasley drabble #george weasley imagine #george weasley fluff #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfiction #request #the weasleys

[writersblockedx]

Potions for Pranks

Pairing - George Weasley x Fem!Reader Summary - Fred and George are practising one of their latest potions on Y/n. They suddenly realise their wrong doings when Y/n begins to forget her memories. Warnings - None I don't think Words - 1.8K

Masterlist

Y/n's memory was beginning to blur. Just specks, small pieces that she couldn't help as they slowly started to slip away.

To begin with, the girl had been blissfully unaware. She, along with Angelina, Lee and the twins, were seated at the great hall for breakfast. Something which had seemed as usual as normal. Until George had slipped some concoction into Y/n's drink without her noticing. The Wealsey boy had been under the belief it was his and Fred's newest potions: kissing concoction. Alas, he had gotten the bottles mixed up.

"So, Y/n?" Hummed George mischievously as he leaned closer to his girlfriend. "Feel anything...I don't know...strong?"

Her brows knotted and she slid away from the boy slightly, "I've got no idea what you're talking about." She answered, confused already, yet unaware as to how her memory was beginning to crack.

Fred, the only other one in on the prank, had started giggling, leading to the other's starting to catch on. "Maybe you've got an urge to do something." George wiggled his eyebrows, but at that point, as Y/n stared back at him, she noted such memory was started to fade away.

Panic settled in and she addressed the rest of the group: "What have you done?" Her tone was blunt and pierced through the air.

Everyone caught on. Something wasn't right. This wasn't some mindless prank the twins had pulled, but something that had become daunting to her. Angelina leaned forward slightly over the table and reached out her hand. "Y/n? What is it?" She queried.

The girl could only shake her head, soon finding herself lost in the place she felt safest. "I don't-" She glanced to George as his pupils filled with worry. "I don't know." Her head snapped back to Angelina. "I can't remember."

They each shared looks. All of which were troublesome. Fred finally piped up, sheepishly asking his brother, "George, which bottle did you pick up?"

George hadn't torn his eyes from Y/n until that moment. "There was more than one?" That's when they all realised they were well and truly fucked.

"Yeah. There was the kissing potion and the- erm- the forgetfulness potions."

His words thudded against the air. There was no need for George to answer the question. They all knew. And, in the sum of three words, Angelina conveyed all their emotions, "You absolute morons."

Fred raised his hands in surrender, "Don't blame me!" Then he pointed this finger to his brother, "George was the one who picked the wrong bottle up."

The other twin rolled his eyes, commenting, "Very mature." Before turning to face Y/n who was still sat at complete loss, trying to grasp onto the memories which were slowly fading away. His eyes softened as his palms reached up to cup the sides of her face. "Hey, you're alright." Though, that he couldn't be sure of yet.

"Why do you even have a forgetfulness postion?" Questioned Lee, his curious tone gliding through the unsettling atmosphere.

"Testing some things out." Fred shrugged as his gaze snapped back to Y/n who hadn't dared to look away from George. "We're trying to make a short-term forgetfulness. You know, get away with a bit more stuff." He rambled on as he came to realise how bad this may turn out for them.

"And that," Angelina pointed to Y/n's cup, "Isn't the one for short-term memory?"

Fred shook his head.

"How do you feel?" George asked through a whisper, but in the group's silence, they all heard it. And they were all eagerly awaiting her answer, eagerly awaiting to find out how much memory their friend had lost.

Her pupils shot between the different people in front of her. The people she was closest to. The people who probably took up the majority of her memories. But, as she looked around, she just saw faces. Faces of which she was struggling to identify. "I don't- I can't-" She stuttered. The only thing which felt known was the red-head's hands on her cheeks. They were gentle and comforting as her body found them familiar, while her brain found them foreign. "I can't remember."

The pure panic in her pupils pushed a silence. Their friend now staring at them like they were ghosts. "It's like I know myself, but I can't, I can't place names to faces." She explained through a trembling tone.

"It's okay." Eased George as he took his hand in hers, hoping to soothe her concern. Then he turned his head and addressed the rest of the group, "Right? We can figure something out?" There was still panic woven throughout George's tone and it was louder than his words.

Lee scoffed, "Pretty sure this is above anything we can fix." At least he were being realistic. Though, his realism had only bought him a kick in the shin from the boy across from him. "Ouch!" He winced but was silenced none the less.

Angelina looked down the table in the Great Hall before leaning in as if her words were about to be dangerous. "You know, if we can't fix this, then that means..." She glanced between the boys who weren't seeming to catch on.

"That means? It means what?" Inquired Fred with knitted brows.

The girl huffed and let on, "We're going to have to go to Snape."

They seemed to dread that more than having a friend who didn't quite remember them. "Snape?" Y/n reiterated in curiosity. "That is?" They found it surprising how easily it had been to forget such a distinguished man. Then again, they supposed it showed the intensity of the potion they had accidentally slipped into Y/n's drink.

"Someone you'll wish you could forget." Replied Lee with the raise of his brows; wishing now that he had been the one to take the burden of the potion.

"Surely there's someone else." George thought. "I mean, anyone else. You know how many points he'll deduct?"

Angelina scowled, "And that's more important than getting your girlfriend's memories back, is it?"

"I'm just saying maybe there's a professor a bit nicer, who may be able to fix this just as well."

"He's potions master, George, there's no one better than him." No one liked the idea, but Angelina was right and there was no point in arguing. "Come on," She urged as she slipped from her seat and everyone else followed.

Y/n stuck close to George, their hands still perfectly interlocked. "Where are we going?" She asked him as they followed behind the others.

He glanced to her as they continued out of the Great Hall, "To someone who can get your memories back." He informed her.

She nodded her head but still seemed uncertain of the idea. "Right." She muttered before looking to him through confused eyes, "And, remind me again, your name is?"

A slight smile hooked at his lips, "George." He told her.

The group wandered around the hallways. For once, they were dismissive. For once, they were aiming to combat any attention as they hid their most recent prank: Y/n. Luckily, most students still lingered in the Great Hall and they were able to get to potions class without many glances their way.

But their real troubles would only begin when they knocked against the door. Angelina looked back at George, who seemed sewed too the forgetful girl. "You ready?" She questioned and the red-head nodded.

Angelina raised her hand and let her knuckles knock gently against the wood. They waited a moment or two before the door swung open and Snape ducked his head out. He glared at each of them, stopping on Angelina. "Sorry to bother you, sir, but erm-" She looked to Y/n and then back to the professor. "We need some help."

The man narrowed his eyes and, for a moment, George could have sworn he was about to decline his help. But, alas, he opened the door fully, "Come in." He instructed as the group fumbled into potions class. "What is it this time?"

And so, Angelina started to explain. She explained everything. Snape listened all the way through and didn't make any comment until the girl stopped. He then huffed and through the trembling silence, looked to the twins and said, "I'm half inclined to leave her as is for a few hours, hopefully teach you a lesson you're both obviously lacking." The two bit their tongues. "Instead, I'm sure a deduction of ten house points will be sufficient."

George sent Angelina a stare which could only read: I told you so. "Do you have the potion?" Snaped queried.

"Yeah." Answered George before rummaging through his robe pockets and pulling out the small bottle and handing it over.

Snape's gaze dragged over to the girl who resembled a deer caught in the headlights. "Take a seat please, Miss Y/l/n." He told her, but she didn't seem to make any move. Well, that was until George prompted her. Snape kept quiet and unscrewed the potion, sniffing it to search for it's ingredients. "And I wonder, what were you doing with such a potion?"

The twins looked to one another, shared in their expression, before addressing Snape. "Revision, sir." Fred answered.

Snape chose not to comment before taking the potion and beginning to gather what he needed for a remedy. He put it all together, mixed it and then returned and passed the concoction to Y/n. She looked up with doe-eyes, curiously holding the potion she wasn't sure of. "Drink it, Y/n." George encouraged with the nod of his head.

She glanced between him and the drink. She wasn't sure, but for some reason, she found that the boy in front of her was one to be trusted. So she followed his instruction and swallowed it all.

They all nervously anticipated if it were to work or not. They probably should have had trust in their professor, but Snape wasn't the most trustworthy. A moment passed and Y/n showed no sign of returning to her usual self. So George offered his hand to her, "Y/n? How do you feel?" He questioned.

She looked up slowly. She wore an expression that the boy struggled to depict. It seemed relieved, yet there were speckles of irritation written into her pupils. Slowly, she stood from the stool and fully faced George. Before he could even realise what was going on, he was getting gently hit in the chest by the girl, followed by her mutterings, "You idiot, George Weasley! You stupidity amazes me sometimes!" She went on before he caught her fists and a grin spread across his lips.

He quipped his head, "How I've missed you."

#george weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley fanfic #george weasley imagine #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley oneshot #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst #harry potter #harry potter x reader #hogwarts #hogwarts imagines #fred weasley #draco malfoy #hermione granger #x reader #fanfiction

[maiiiwrites]

★ | WARM HUGS AND PJS . JPEG

PAIRING ! george weasley x f!reader

IN WHICH you spend xmas morning with your beloved or in ron’s words accidentally traumatizing him forever

how odd. the common room felt unusually cold despite the warmth flickering from the fireplace. it made you feel alone, a sentiment you've always felt during the holidays. but something about this year felt different.

maybe it's because of the comfort that tightly clung onto you.

"georgie.. baby.." you murmured.

a small hum escaped the giant redhead. despite that, he remained still. with no intention of letting you go. if possible, it seemed that he snuggled even closer to you.

you giggle at his clingy antics. "baby you have to let me go."

"mhmph no," george dismissed.

you knew you have to find a way to make him let you go before the students start rushing down.

"georgie we can't be found like this."

"and why is that love? you ashamed of me?" he frowned.

godric did he look absolutely adorable with his tiny pout. you gently ran your fingers through his bright red locks. noticing how george unconsciously leans into your touch.

"it's not that baby. you know that i love you, but do you really want to be teased this early? on christmas day?"

his brows furrowed as if he's contemplating his options. "i don’t mind if–"

aaaack!

a shriek from behind pulled your attention away from your lover. you couldn't help but laugh at ron’s disgusted face. "seriously?! this early in the morning?!" he groaned, shielding his eyes as if he walked in on an inappropriate scene.

"my apologies ron," you utter.

you eventually see harry and hermione come down the stairs and stand behind ron. hermione asks why ron is standing there looking like an idiot, something which he grumbles about. they were quick to check the tree and go through their presents.

"yn! look mom got you something!" ron cheered.

"and nothing for you george," he taunted, sticking his tongue out at him.

much to george's dismay, you untangle your limbs and walk towards his younger brother. "how sweet of mrs. weasley!" happily receiving the gift. it's been a while since you've received a gift given out of love. you carefully unwrap the gift, anticipating what lies beneath all the wrapping.

you soften spotting a matching set of pajamas. it's the perfect size for you and george. tears well up in your eyes as you gaze at the pjs in your hands. george, who has been watching you with pure adoration, notices how silent you've become.

"love?" he calls out.

slowly, you stood up and made your way towards george. burying your face at the crook of his neck, feeling safe enough to let out quiet sobs. george instinctively wraps his arms around you. he holds you close, muttering 'i love you's and assurance.

after a few minutes of simply basking in his embrace, you pull back to admire his features. you bring your hand up to brush along his freckled dusted cheeks. leaning in for a quick kiss that left him chasing after your lips.

"let's change into these, stay in, and cuddle all day. how's that sound?" you offer.

a lopsided grin made its way onto his face. he pulls you up and catches you off guard when he carries you bridal style. you were both a giggling fit as you made your way up to his dorm.

one thing was for certain, this year was definitely the best holidays you've had so far.

bonus:

harry speaks up once you've left, "it's like they're in their own little world."

"it's disgusting really," ron gagged.

hermione was quick to hit him. "they're adorable! you just won’t know a thing about romance. i bet you can’t even woo a girl."

ron frowns and quickly defends himself, saying how he did manage to go on a date once! which hermione ignores, her attention on the wonderful quill mrs. weasley gifted her.

© maiiiwrites — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

#www.iloveharrypotter.com #. * ᕀ my blurbs ° . #harry potter #harry potter x reader #hogwarts #hogwarts imagine #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fluff #m's xmas collection !

[l0standn0tf0und]

more of my fav works with George Weasley

first part

third part

fourth part

fifth part

♡ = smut, 18+ only

her rhinestones, they shine endlessly

i think he’d look worse in pink

wish it on your worst enemy

goofy summer morning

dear george, love (y/n)

the rest will be history (I'm not afraid of these words: THIS IS LITERALLY THE BEST THING I'VE EVER READ! I mean, I cried, and I laughed, and it's just the best 4,9k words in my life)

what once was mine

don't make her wait

freckles and smiles

pretty good idea

little white lies

pay attention

in disguise

only angel

blindsided

space girl

alright

flying

♡www

♡alone at last

♡one more night

♡decorated for me

♡delightfully devilish

♡each other's first time

♡george weasley during sex

♡george weasley headcanons

♡nsfw alphabet for george & y/n

♡kinktober 2023 - george weasley

♡george overstimulating you, and you cry

all the love to the authors of all these masterpieces: @dracoxsworld @george-weasleys-girl @siriusblackloml @acciojaeyun @gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley @desideriumwriter @pinkandblueblurbs @thebadgerclan @horrorxweasley @elfenbensord @honeymoonblues @lightininglydia @hpimaginesandblurbs @weelittleweasley

masterlist

#george weasley fic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley smut #george weasley headcanon #george weasley #george weasley x fem #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst #fred and george #the weasly twins #weasley twins #weasley twins x reader #oliver phelps #fic rec #fic recommendation #harry potter #hogwarts

[shadowbriar]

George Weasley - What Matters

Pairing : George Weasley x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 0.8k Warning : Takes place on the night after the Seven Potters event. Not proofread I'm too tired. Synopsis : Soothing conversation after what seems to be the greatest nightmare the couple had to live through. Notes : Part of Shadowbriar's 2024 Valentines Project. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

"Have you ever imagined a world where we’re not together?”

George frowns, lifting from the bed to lay on his side, his arm supporting his head. He watches her closely, seeing the glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes. Supposed the nightmare of him arriving at the Burrow with blood soaking his shirt earlier was still etched in her mind. 

The plan was a success, should one argue. Their objective was met. Harry is now safe and sound, sleeping in Ron’s room like a baby. Though some sacrifices needed to be made, loss to mourn and cry for, at least knowing that what they fought for was achieved would be the softer side of the bed they’ll sleep on tonight.

“No, never.” He says firmly, trying to provide some comfort for her “Why would I ever think that?”

She shrugs, “Reasons.”

Gently, George reaches for her hand and places it to his chest. He hopes that it could ease her wary mind a little. He wanted her to feel his heart beat, to feel his heat, to feel him. He knows that it would take more than sweet words and tender embraces tonight to get them through the night, to get them just a blink of sleep no matter how sore and aching their bodies are, but he has no idea how else he could comfort her when he too was still a little shaken from the event that occurred.

“I’m sorry,” She whispers, her voice shaky as she tries her best not to let the tears fall “I should be the one comforting you, but I just—”

“Shh, it’s alright, Darling,” George says as he pulls her close “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

“I could have lost you.”

“But you didn’t,” He reassures, patting her head gently “You’ll never lose me.”

“But I almost did, George. I almost lost you.”

“Love,” George pulls away a little, staring deep into her eyes with that boyish smile “It would take much more than Voldy’s gothic underling to keep us apart, trust me.”

She forces a smile, one that didn’t truly reach her eyes. Her stare was still vacant, like she’s trying to comprehend her surroundings and finding firm stepping after the rug beneath her feet was pulled. There has been no greater horror, no bigger fear and terror than the one she felt a couple hours ago.

“I can’t lose you,” She says to him “I just can’t.”

“I know. I can’t lose you, either.” He says gently, caressing her cheek “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

“What’s left of you, you mean.”

George raised an eyebrow, “Meaning?”

“You lack an ear,” She tries to jest, smiling slightly bigger though her eyes still welled of tears “Can’t decide if it makes you lose a couple points in the appearance department or if it enhances it.”

“The latter, of course. You have one hell of an unkillable boyfriend,” He says proudly, grinning “Reckon muggles write it on their papers? A bloody ear fell from the sky. Imagine the horror!”

Her laughter finally breaks. Though it didn’t last as long as George wished it would, the lingering smile on her lips was enough to tell him that the storm is slowly passing. Gently, he leans in and kisses her. How the night went by was certainly unideal but now that she’s here, laying on his bed, everything feels alright. Like the pain on his ear was reduced into a slight itch and the soreness of his body was caused by nothing but a typical quidditch practice.

The sigh she let go as they parted lifted tons of her burden. The corners of her lips were still curled, satisfied with the solace they could both find in each other though chaos still unravels around them. It was modest and unadorned, but much more than enough to soothe both of their scarred minds.

“I love you,” She says softly “I don’t want to ever imagine a world without you.”

“Then don’t,” George answers “Don’t imagine it, don’t think about it, don’t worry about it because it would never happen. It’s us or nothing, remember? That’s all that matters.”

She chuckles, “That’s a bit extreme now, init? Us or nothing?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have anyone other than you,” He argues, raising an eyebrow “Do you have anyone you’d have other than me?”

“There’s a short list of possible names.” She jokes once again “You’re in my top three at the moment, honestly.”

“I hate you.”

“Okay, top five now from that comment.”

George let out a satisfied laughter, pulling her head close to his chest that she could feel the echo of his chuckle and the steady beating of his heart. Her arms now encircle his waist. There seems to be too much space between them tonight though their bodies were cramped together on such a tiny bed. No close is close enough for the two right now.

“I hope you know I didn’t mean that.” She whispers to his shirt “There could be no one but you.”

“I know,” George says, planting a kiss to the crown of her head “I know, Sweetheart, I know.”

#george weasley #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley fluff #george weasley oneshot #george weasley drabble #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x oc #george weasley x yn

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When Three Became Two 🪽| Platonic!Weasley Twins Imagine

Set during the Battle of Hogwarts

Harry Potter masterlist

Characters & Pairings: George & Fred Weasley x Sister!Weasley Triplet (platonic), the Golden Trio x weasley!sister (platonic)

Content Warnings: Character Death, sadness, angst, mentions of blood and major injury, profanity | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 7k

Premise: The dynamic redheaded duo Fred & George were never particularly close with their older triplet sister Y/N, especially after she was sorted into Slytherin during their first year at Hogwarts. It is not till the Battle of Hogwarts do the twins realize just how important family is, but by then it was too late to make amends.

(Y/E/C)- Your eye color

Note: I’m going to put red hair because you know Weasley but if you want to envision your own hair color that is totally fine too. Also, just so y'all know....I started this piece back in 2018 and recently picked it back up. So....the last 400 words are pretty much the most recent material I added + i did A LOT of editing. So I apologize if the beginning is trash because like I said, 6k of the nearly 7k words are from 6 years ago. I've been hyperfixating on the Weasley twins again which is why I was like 'maybe I should finish that imagine I started...'

Italics are flashbacks

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Y/n Weasley felt the sweat and blood drip off her forehead as she ran through the halls of the school she had spent several years in which became a second home to her. She was out of breath, dodging and reflecting spells that were casted her way from the surrounding death eaters. Screams and shouts echoed from every corner, flashes of red and green light nearly blinding her (Y/E/C) eyes while her flaming red hair swished when she ran. Her breath was wavering, she could see several of her fellow Order members dueling around her. Passing the Great Hall, her pace nearly faltering when her eyes locked on the doors, the memory of walking through the first time when she was just a nervous little eleven year old began to play in the redheads mind….

Y/n sighed, stepping off the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Her twin brothers had already raced to the boats leaving the smaller, although older, of the three behind. Picking up her robes that were slightly dragging due to her small stature, Y/n followed her fellow classmates to the boating docks, casting a smile to Hagrid as she walked past him, who in return smiled back. She found a boat that already had two other first years seated, and quickly took the spot adjacent to a girl about her age.

“Hi,” the girl smiled to the redhead, “I’m Angelina Johnson. What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/n Weasley, it’s nice to meet you,” the two shook hands with smiles.

“What house are you hoping to be in?”

“Honestly,” Y/n sighed, “I’m not sure. My whole family has been in Gryffindor, including my two older brothers who are currently here. It would be nice to be sorted there so I have my family, but I’ve always felt different.”

“Are those other two ginger boys your brothers?” Angelina pointed to the boat where Fred and George were laughing loudly while talking with a dark-skinned boy. Y/n nodded after looking where Angelina was pointing, turning back with a grim expression.

“Yeah, that’s Fred and George. We’re triplets, I’m the oldest of the bunch yet I never seem to be included in anything.”

“Aw, that’s not right,” Angelina said with a frown. The two continued to talk the entire boat ride to the castle, learning about their backgrounds and finding out  they had several similar interests. One could tell that the two instantly connected and were on the road to becoming best friends. The two girls got off the boat once it got to the docks, Y/n helping Angelina when she nearly tripped as she got out, to which the young girl was grateful for. 

“Oh my gosh thank you!” Angelina exclaimed, “That would have been so embarrassing.” Y/n laughed slightly, fixing the girl’s robes.

“No problem, I wouldn't want you tripping on the first night and being made fun of before classes even started.” The two girls followed everyone to the entrance of the castle, beaming in awe of everything they passed. Climbing the steps that lead to the great hall seemed like forever, but soon they were faced with an older woman who wore a pointed hat on top of her head and green robes. 

“Good evening,” she greeted, “I am Professor McGonagall. In a few moments, the doors behind me will open and you will enter the Great Hall where you will then be sorted into one of the four houses named after the four founding members of Hogwarts; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin--.” She continued to explain the four houses to the children before the doors opened. When they did, Professor McGonagall escorted the group into the Great Hall. Many looked at the ceiling, gasping at the candles floating in midair. Some caught the eyes of soon to be fellow classmates, the students sending smiles to the young ones. 

The group halted in front of the steps leading to the podium. The members of the head table gazed down on the children, Headmaster Dumbledore giving them a warm smile to welcome them making many feel more at ease. Professor McGonagall stood beside a stool, on top of it was a brown pointed hat. 

“When I call your name,” she said, capturing everyone's attention, “You will step up, take a seat on the stool and I will place the sorting hat on your head where you will be sorted into your houses.” Y/n felt her hands become clammy, nerves racking through here with each name being called getting closer to hers. When Angelina was called and sorted into Gryffindor, Y/n clapped for her with a smile, happy for her new friend. She immediately hoped she would also be sorted into the house to be with not only her older brothers, but also with Angelina. 

“Weasley, Fred.” The ginger boy raced up the stairs, careful not to trip over his robes and took a seat on the stool with a grin. The hat was placed onto his head and it took only moments before the hat exclaimed, “GRYFFINDOR!!” Cheers erupted from the lion house, the older Weasley boys, Charlie and Percy, clapping loudly for their brother and greeting him with open arms when he ran to the table. George was called next, the boy also running to the stool and the Gryffindor house applauded with joy once more hearing the sorting hat call out the name again. Fred and George embraced in a big hug, happy they were going to be in the same house and sat next to each other beside their brothers. 

The room went quiet and Professor McGonagall read out the name many had already guessed was next, “Weasley, Y/n.” The small eleven-year-old let out a shaky breath, ascending the steps before taking a seat on the stool. She flinched when the hat was placed on her head and heard a gasp emitted from it.

“Ahh another Weasley,” the hat began, “only you are much different than your many siblings huh? Loyal to your family, a trait you value, but Hufflepuff is not for you. There is no doubt you are brave like a Gryffindor, there will be a time your bravery will be put to the test, but there is a strong ambition that lies within you. You are a very determined young one, and will do anything to accomplish your goals.” Y/N felt her heart begin to beat faster as the hat continued talking, “So, there is only one house in which you will find what you are looking for and that is SLYTHERIN!!”

That day, while no one wanted to admit it, changed everything. The twins hardly ever talked to Y/N, even less than what they already had. Many of the Slytherins ignored her, not enjoying the fact that a member of the blood-traitor family was sorted into the notorious pure-blood house. Even though Y/N was of pure blood, it did not matter to them, she was still relatively shunned from her housemates. Professor Snape was displeased at first until she proved she had a talent for potion making, becoming more advanced than any student he had ever taught. It was then he treated the Weasley girl with some actual respect and even allowed her to practice in the classroom whenever she pleased as long as she promised to never let her brothers get their hands on any of the ingredients he stored in the room. 

Charlie, Angelina, and Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff seemed to be the only people besides her parents and professors that looked beyond the fact she was in Slytherin. Others included her older brother Bill, her younger sister Ginny and eventually Hermione Granger. The bushy haired Gryffindor met the older Weasley in her first year at Hogwarts. After being told of the talented potion maker from Ron, Hermione sought to meet her. Y/N was shocked when the girl first introduced herself, but it was the start of a treasured friendship Y/N held dear to her. 

“Hi!” a cheerful voice sounded, causing Y/N to look up from her textbook. Her eyes met the warm brown ones of a petite girl bushy haired girl sporting a Gryffindor tie and robes. The Slytherin girl gazed at her confused, looking around  the library in case she was addressing someone else other than her. By the warm smile the first-year gave her, Y/N realized she was in fact talking to her. 

“Uh hi?” she said with a questionable tone, brows furrowed. The girl stuck her hand out which made Y/N slightly flinch by how fast the movement was.

“I’m Hermione Granger,” she introduced. Y/N hesitantly extended her own hand, clasping it with the girl's small one and shook it lightly.

“Y/N Weasley.”

“I know,” Hermione smiled, “Ron told me about you. Well he did not tell me much except your name and that you were in Slytherin. He also mentioned you were really good with potions and Snape likes you.” Y/N could not help but slightly chuckle at the last sentence.

“I wouldn’t say Snape ‘likes’ me, but he certainly tolerates me more than my siblings. You’ve probably already seen that the twins are pranksters, they tend to cause him immense distress.” This made Hermione laugh and Y/N felt her lips curl up. She then noticed the girl holding several textbooks, one of which was a first-year potions book, “Is there anything I can help you with Hermione?” 

“I just wanted to get to know you,” the girl said warmly, which made Y/N slightly shocked. “Ron and the twins did not speak much about you and when they did they made it seem like you were horrible just because you were sorted into Slytherin. I know that a house does not define who a person really is, so I wanted to talk to you myself and it appears you are not a mean or evil person that your house makes people think you are.” Y/N could not believe what she was hearing and she could not detect any hint of a lie in the girl's words. 

“Wow,” She breathed, “Sorry, I’m just a little taken back. It’s been a while since I’ve really heard anyone say that. Only my older siblings, minus Percy, my parents, my sister, and a few people who I happen to be friends with think the same way you do. Ron and the twins just really ignore me.”

“But aren’t you and the twins actually triplets?” The question caused Y/N to frown and look down at her book.

“Yeah,” she muttered softly, “We are. Many people forget that we are because we never act like it, but it’s okay, I’m used to the two leaving me out. It happened before we were sorted into our houses so it does not bother me much anymore. I’ve learned to live with it.” Hermione frowned at that, feeling sad for the older Weasley.

“That’s not right. You guys are siblings, family. They should not treat you like that.” 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. One day they will realize how they act wrong, until then I can only be patient.” Hermione nodded though she still possessed a frown  and Y/N pushed away the many books laid on the table, gesturing for the girl to take a seat. “Here, sit down. You said you want to get to know me, so let's just talk while we do our homework and you can see how I really am compared to what Ron tells you. I’ll even help you with potions if you need.” Hermione beamed, placing her books on the table and sitting down across from the redhead. The two talked for hours until it was time for curfew, getting to know one another and Y/N offering help when Hermione had a question on a certain subject and Y/N felt it was the start of a blossoming friendship.

The years continued, and Y/N only had few friends, hardly ever seeing her siblings due to them all being sorted into Gryffindor leaving her alone. Her friendship with Hermione grew and she even looked at the girl as a sister, the Gryffindor looking at her the same way. Y/N and Angelina remained close even after being sorted in different houses. Despite having few friends, she could not wait to graduate and finally go off on her own, already planning to continue her work in potions and become a potioneer after spending countless summers devoted to perfecting different elixirs. Several events happened during her time at Hogwarts, including her sister Ginny unlocking the Chamber of Secrets and the tragedy of the TriWizard Tournament. 

When the Order of the Phoenix was back in business to stop Voldemort following the death of her dear friend Cedric, Y/n immediately joined despite objections from her parents. The death of her friend caused immense grief. She became depressed in the following months, hardly sleeping due to nightmares of his corpse and she rarely ate, resulting in her facial features becoming more hollow. It was not until she joined the Order that she was back to her normal self and that was because of her determination to bring justice to Cedric’s death. The Order faced great loss. The deaths of Sirius, Dumbledore, Moody and with her brother George losing his ear proved how real the war was and the fight to make the world a safer place. 

Now it was the second of May, and the fight of everyone’s life was in place. Death Eaters swarmed every inch of Hogwarts, attacking students whether they were armed or not. Y/N ran down the corridors, deflecting spells and sending jinxes back and forth. Her adrenaline was soaring, not knowing where exactly she was headed, but the only thing she knew was to survive and protect the students around her. Y/n never thought she would ever cast the killing curse in her life, but when a second-year Hufflepuff was about to be killed, the spell left her mouth before she could stop herself. The Death Eater fell back unmoving, Y/n took the hand of the small boy she saved and hurried him to the nearest dormitory or classroom. 

“Here, go!” she ushered him into the room, “Stay here and do not leave! Hide somewhere and be alert, you understand?” The boy nodded furishouly, his small body shaking and clutching his wand tightly in his hand. The redhead raced out of the room, closing the door shut before darting down the hallway. A flash of familiar hair caught her eye and her feet carried her to the source. “Ginny!” She shouted upon seeing her sister. The younger Weasley halted her movement at the sound, turning around only to collide in the older one’s embrace. “Oh my God,” Y/n breathed, “Are you okay? Why are you out here? I thought you were to stay in the Room of Requirement until this was over?”

“Harry needed me to leave,” she told her sister, the two moving to a corner where they were slightly hidden from the battle, “He needed to search the room for a possible horcrux. Once he went in, I left and came here. I couldn’t just let my friends and family fight with the chances of them getting killed and just sit and wait!” Y/n sighed, bringing a hand to wipe the sweat on her face which resulted in more dirt being rubbed. 

“While I don’t like you being involved, I understand where you’re coming from.” She pauses to rub her nose bridge, placing her hands on Ginny’s shoulders to look at her sternly, “Mum and dad might kill me for letting you fight, but there’s really no time to negotiate and stop you. At least find Neville or someone who can stay close to you and keep you covered, okay?” Ginny nodded, embracing her sister once more in a tight hug. 

“Stay safe, sis.”

“I will,” Y/n told her, “You stay safe too, I’ll see you soon.” The two pulled away and Y/n bolted away down the hall while Ginny rushed to Tonks after seeing her battle a Death Eater and rushing to her aid. Y/n turned the corner, something in her stomach dropping and her intuition telling her something bad was about to happen. She heard the sound of a duel taking place and followed it. Familiar voices echoed in her ears and her pace picked up. The redhead rounded the corridor, jets of light flashing in her eyes and she spotted Fred and Percy battling Death Eaters while Harry, Ron, and Hermione helped while dodging incoming jinxes. 

“Hello, Minister!” Percy bellowed, sending a jinx at the man, “Did I mention I’m resigning?” 

“You’re joking, Perce!” Fred shouted and looked at his brother. Y/n watched the two and in the corner of eyes she could see a Death Eater with their wand raised. Her brothers could not see the man, and she noticed he was pointing at the wall directly behind them. Before she could think, Y/n sprinted as fast as her feet carried her, eyes widening when the flash of light emitted from the want of the assailant. At that moment, nothing mattered other than making sure her brothers were safe. All the years of being ignored and looked down upon by them due to being sorted in Slytherin seemed to vanish, and Y/n felt water line her eyes as she got closer. 

“You actually are joking, Perce… I don’t think I’ve heard you joke since you were--.”

“Fred! Percy!” Her scream ignited and the two snapped their heads toward her just in time for the redhead to push them both out of the way at the exact moment the air exploded around them. The two brothers along with the Golden Trio were flown back from the impact, all landing onto the stone ground with a groan. Pain erupted to several areas of their bodies which would surely bruise. Dust covered them, their vision blurred from how much was in the air. 

Fred pulled his body up, groaning from the pain in his side and coughing from how much dust filled his throat. He scanned the area and saw how the wall he was in front of was blasted apart with stone and wood now covering every inch of the ground with a large pile in the middle. It took two seconds for the ginger to realize what had happened, the last thing he saw was his sister running at him before he was flown back. He immediately got up and rushed to the pile of debris, staggering over the stones while shouting his sister's name.

“Y/n!!” He screamed, moving at a fast pace. “Y/n, can you hear me!” The boy began throwing the many pieces of stone and wood away from the pile, searching for any sign of movement and listening for sound. Percy and the trio joined in, the group shouting Y/n name and digging through the debris. “C’mon Y/n I need you to tell me where you are!” Fred grew more and more worried, feeling his heart sink by the second. It was not until he heard a pained groan and rushed to the source. He spotted a hand peeking through the rubble and Fred shouted for the others saying he found her. They all rushed to him, removing the stone covering Y/n's body, allowing Fred to pull her out of the wreckage when they were able to get her upper half revealed. She let out a scream, pain erupting all through her and Fred tried his best to get her out as gently as he could. 

“I got you, sis.” He said with a shaky voice, “I got you.” With one quick but harsh tug, Y/n was removed from the rubble and was laid onto the floor. Everyone surrounded her, becoming frozen by how much blood covered her body. Cuts and gashes painted her skin, her clothing ripped and chunks of stone were embedded into the many wounds. Her breath wavered, gasping for air and they all felt their heart race at the sight. Hermione, with shaky hands, pressed a palm on to a deep cut in Y/n’s neck. The Weasley girl hissed, blood filling her mouth and dripping down her lips. 

“You’re going to be okay, Y/n,” Hermoine’s voice cracked, trying not to look at the many wounds which the girl could tell will be fatal if not treated immediately. Ron could see a large gash right above his sister’s temple and gently laid his hand on top of it, while biting his lip to stop a sob from escaping. He knew it was bad, and his sister was dying in front of him. They needed a healer, but the Great Hall was several corridors away and Ron feared she would not make it in time. Percy began calling for help, applying pressure onto her stomach which had been cut open when a large piece of wood had impaled her. Harry stayed on his feet with his wand ready for any threats while also keeping his eye on Y/n, his heart dropping at the sight of her battered body. 

“I can’t--,” Y/n gasped with a tired breath as Fred held her hand, “I can’t feel my legs.” She could hear them gasp, Fred’s hand becoming tense in her hold. 

“We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey!” Fred shouted and went to pick her up, the others keeping their hands on her wounds to hold the bleeding but when they tried Y/n erupted in wails from the pain filling her by the slightest movement. It was like a volcano, fire filling her blood. The thick liquid poured out of her wounds, her skin becoming pale. Hermione’s hands were painted red, as were Ron and Percy’s. The sound of her screams were so loud it echoed through the nearby hallway and caused tears to stream down Hermione’s face.

“Stop!” she shouted, “Fred stop! It’s too late, she won’t make it!” 

“You don’t know that!” He yelled back trying to get his sister into his arms, his clothes now coated in red. Y/n began to shake from the pain, becoming numb by the intensity and Fred started to panic. 

“Fred, she’s losing too much blood,” Hermione cried, “She’ll bleed out before we can even get her to the Great Hall.”

“Are you serious, Hermione?!” Fred shouted in disbelief over the chaos around them, “Do you even hear yourself?! She’s your friend and you’re gonna let her die!? ”

“Fred stop,” Y/n's hoarse voice whispered. The ginger boy looked down at his sister, her upper body being held up in his arms while the others continued to put pressure on her wounds but blood continued to seep through their fingers. 

“What--?”

“She’s r-right,” Y/n interrupted, “I-I won’t make it. The pain is too much--I-I can’t move and I'm losing too much blood.” She was shaking, fighting against what was pulling her to the other side to have a few precious moments with her family. “You need to get out of here, go find mum and dad.” Fred could not believe what he was hearing, neither Ron nor Percy. All three boys felt their eyes water and Fred tightened his hold on her. Percy grabbed her other hand, and Ron kept his on her head, covering her wound while tears flooded his face. 

“Y/n,” Fred stuttered her name, “We can get you to a healer. Madam Pomfrey will help and she will heal you, you’ll be fine.” The words were more to convince himself. He watched as her lips curled up, tired and broken eyes looking into his. 

“Fred,” she sighed, “You and I both know that I am not going to make it.” A sob escaped his throat.

“No! You’re not dying! You’re going to be okay!” He cried, dropping his head so his cheek rested on her hair. “You’re going to get out of here. You’re going to go home and learn how to walk again and become a potioneer like you’ve always dreamed of. You’ll get married and have kids…” He trailed off when sobs overtook him and he began to cry into her hair. Fred never believed he would ever have to watch his sister die in his arms. He had never felt more pain in his life than in that moment watching her gasp for air as her life started to fade away. What made it even more painful was knowing she saved him in the process, “I was supposed to die, not you! Not you!” 

Fred started to think back to all the times he and George would ignore Y/n, never including her in pranks or just ordinary things. The moment she was sorted into Slytherin they acted like they were not even related at times and Fred felt more tears fall knowing he could never make up for it. He won’t ever get the chance to show her how sorry he was. 

“Y/N go get your brothers and tell them supper is ready.”

“Yes mum.” Y/N raced up the many flights of stairs in the burrow in search of her twin brothers. When she got to the room, she knocked gently and waited for a reply but did not hear one so she pushed it open to see the two boys sitting on the ground in between their beds with several items in front of them. 

“Hey, hey!” Fred shouted in surprise and George started to gather their many inventions away from her sight. “You can’t just come in here without saying anything!” Y/N frowned at him.

“I knocked,” she told him, “neither of you responded.”

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, “Still does not mean you can just walk in our room unannounced. We are doing something very exclusive and can’t risk you snitching it to mum or dad or your pal Snape.” Y/n’s eyes narrowed at her brother.

“Snape is not my ‘pal.’ He just stands me more than you lot because you are always causing him trouble.” George mumbled something under his breath, but the girl could not hear it. “And besides, I haven’t told anyone about your previous antics so why would I do so now?”

“Oh please,” Fred said in an annoyed tone, “we know you told Filch that we were the ones who put fireworks in his office second-year.” Y/N’s jaw dropped at the accusation, her cheeks becoming inflamed as anger rose.

“I did no such thing!” she shouted, “whoever told you that was a lie! I never ratted you out to Filch and why would he believe me? He thinks I’m just as bad as you two because I’m a Weasley.”

“Sometimes I don’t understand how you are one?”

“Excuse me?” she said appalled, “What in the bloody hell do you mean by that?” The twins just looked at her with blank expressions while she felt her eyes begin to water. 

“Well first,” Fred started, “the most obvious is that you are the only one of us who got sorted into Slytherin. A house you know is full of pure-blooded pricks and bullies who hate everyone but themselves. You don’t like quidditch like the rest of us and prefer to be by yourself working on potions. Snape likes you, but hates the rest of us and you just have always been the outkast in the family. Who knows, you may even become a Death Eater like the rest of your housemates. Maybe you already are one and just haven’t said anything, wouldn’t be surprised you never tell anyone in this house what you are up to.” Y/n stayed silent when Fred finished, she felt a small tear fall down her cheek but neither of her brothers looked like they were unapologetic. She bit her lip giving a small nod and wiped away the drop.

“Mum wants you to know that supper is ready.” Turning on her heel, Y/n paced out of the room with the door slamming shut behind her. She shoved past Percy who simply glared at her for her attitude and bumping into him, obviously not knowing what the twins had said to her to cause such emotion. The redhead burst into her room, collapsing onto her bed and pushing her face into her pillow as cries erupted from her, being muffled by the pillow. She felt her heart break, her brother's words replaying in her head causing torment like a radio playing a horrible song over and over again. 

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he wept into her hair, “I’m sorry I treated you so badly. For everything. Ignoring you, pranking you in ways that had humiliated you and made you cry. Accusing you of snitching on us when you never did.” He held her close to his body, breaking inside each time she made a sound of agony. “I’m sorry for what I said to you during fourth year. I’m such a horrible brother,” he sobbed, “Please sis, don’t go. Don’t leave us.” 

“It’s okay, Fred,” she hushed him, stroking his arm with the hand Percy wasn’t holding. The two other Weasley boys were sobbing next to her. They two often treated her unfairly and were now going to live in tremendous guilt and despair, begging God to not take her. “It’s okay,” she said again, this time quieter.

“Y-Y/N,” Percy stuttered, but she simply hushed him.

Her voice grew weaker, and the group knew it was only moments before she would be gone forever. “It’s gonna be okay. I love--,” it was getting harder to speak, but she was fighting. “I love you all.”

“We love you too. We always will,” Ron said and Hermione started to cry harder, leaning onto Ron for support. Harry no longer looked around for Death Eaters, his own face drenched in tears at the sight in front of him. He felt anguish in him, seeing another friend die at the hands of those who wanted him dead. 

“You think I’ll see Cedric up there?” She questioned, eyelids falling shut and the image of her best friend filled her mind. Happy at the thought of possibly seeing him again. Fred let out a small cry before she felt him nod. 

“Y-yeah,” he croaked, “He’ll be waiting for you. You’ll be together again just like before.” 

“Freddie?”

“Yeah, sis?”

“Take care of George,” she managed to breathe out, “Tell him I love him.” 

“I will,” He sniffed, feeling her take one last breath.

“Promise me you will live.” The air left her body one last time, the pain no longer present and Y/n felt at peace, unable to hear Fred’s last words to her. 

 “I promise. I love you, sis.” But Y/N did not respond, causing him to gently shake her.  Her lack of reaction caused Fred to collapse into a heap of cries when her body finally went limp in his arms. “Y-y/n?” 

Percy felt her hand become unmoved and he too, cried in heartbreak. Ron held onto Hermione, turning his body away so he did not see his now dead sister in his brother’s arms. His heart was heavy with agony and he could not help console Hermione for he was in the same state. Harry dropped his head, sadness all within him at the loss of someone he looked at as family. He would never forgive himself, and he wished nothing more for Y/n to be brought back.

“Y/n,” Fred tried again, but to no avail. “W-wake up. Please w-wake u-up.”

The Golden Trio had to force themselves to leave, to continue their search before more people died. Harry and Hermoine having to drag poor Ron away from his siblings. None wanted to go, but time was limited and it took all their strength to get up and leave Percy and Fred with Y/n’s body. Promising Ron they’d get her to their family once it was safe to do so. 

The two Weasley brothers lost track of time. They stayed put, mourning the loss of their sister until the battle ceased and they were drained of tears. It soon became quiet in the castle, Death Eaters had retreated upon Voldermorts order and bodies laid all through the halls. 

“We should take her to the Great Hall,” Percy spoke with a dry voice, hoarse from all the cries. “Take her to mum and dad.” Fred was still, looking in front of him at the dusted hallway full of debris from the explosion that killed his sister. She was still held close in his arms, eyes closed and the blood stopped flowing but coated every inch of her skin along with Fred’s clothes. It took all his might to look down, eyes landing on her face. She looked peaceful, her lips slightly curled as though she had died smiling and that gave Fred some sort of comfort despite her damaged body. 

That she left the world at peace. 

“You think she’ll watch over us? Even though we treated her like shit?” His voice cracked. The older Weasley gazed down at his little sister, a small yet heartbroken smile on his lips and he cleared his throat. His hand came over her forehead to move some of her red hair, flinching at how cold her skin was.

“Yeah,” he said, “I think she will.” Fred carefully stood, cradleling Y/n in his arms. Percy rose beside him, grabbing their discarded wands and leading them out of the hallway, careful to avoid the debris around them. They reached the Great Hall, hearing the sound of others. Many were painful groans, others were cries of despair. The two emerged in the doorway, paying no mind to those around them and instead continued to walk forward until they saw their parents, Ginny and older brothers Bill and Charlie. Ginny was the first to see them, and rushed to them relieved they were okay and searched for her sister, but when her eyes landed on what was in Fred’s arms she halted. She could see the flaming red hair similar to hers and the blood stained clothing on the unmoving body. Her mouth went agape, hand flying to cover it as her eyes filled with water threatening to escape.

“Please tell me it’s not--.” But Percy simply shook his head, looking at his baby sister with sorrow and Ginny let out a small scream, falling to the ground but was caught by Bill. He stared at the Y/n’s lifeless body, his heart breaking into pieces and he tried desperately to console Ginny, but found it hard to battle his own grief emerging. Molly and Arthur ran upon hearing their daughter’s scream and froze when they saw their son.

“Fred,” Arthur said in a hesitant voice. His son looked at him with tear filled eyes, lips quivering and for Fred, he could feel his body start to shake.

“I-I-I,” he could not find the words, “S-she saved us. She saved us…..” His knees nearly gave out and his brothers Percy and Charlie helped him lower their deceased sister onto the ground. After gently placing the fallen Weasley onto the stone floor, Fred once more collapsed over her body as his grief overpowered him once more. Molly fell back into her husband’s arms, wailing in agony, he too had trouble holding her up as his body racked with sobs. Ginny was still on the floor, being cradled by Bill while Charlie and Percy stood over Fred, rubbing his back with tears of their own falling. 

Onlookers watched with solemn expressions. The sight was gut wrenching but unfortunately resembled many throughout the Great Hall as friends mourned friends and teachers draped blankets over their deceased students.

“No! Not my girl!” Molly screamed, “Please not m-my girl.” She fell to her knees, crawling over to the opposite side of her daughter's body and caressed her cold cheek. Blood was all over her precious face, adorned with cuts and gashes, the most horrific on her head and neck. Molly did not even want to look down at Y/n’s body, for she was afraid of what else had happened to cause her daughter such a horrific death. Arthur could see the gaping wound in Y/n’s torso, his stomach lurching at the sight and he had to turn away as he felt nauseous. 

George burst through the entrance of the Great Hall. He had separated from his family and Fred at some point during the battle which resulted in his anxiety to soar at not knowing where they were. He heard the wounded were being treated in the Great Hall along with the bodies of those who perished being moved until further notice, so the ginger bolted to the location as fast as he could. His eyes scanned every inch of the large dining hall, and soon he could see a group of people with the same colored hair as him, instantly relieved. 

George walked with a rushed pace, slowing with confusion when he heard the wretched cries of his parents and siblings. They were all huddled, blocking his view of the ground. He immediately looked for Fred, becoming relaxed when he saw his brother alive. But George’s stomach dropped at the broken look painted on his twin’s face.

“F-Fred,” he stuttered out as he approached him, “what’s wron----.” Something behind Fred’s shoulder caught his eye, George’s gaze falling to the still figure on the ground. That’s when he realized the fact Fred was kneeling on the ground, hovered over the figure, and his mother was sobbing into their neck. 

His twin lifted his head, turning to meet George’s eyes, which revealed the horrific reality waiting for him. There, lying on the stretcher covered in a dark red--almost black--substance and nearly unrecongnizable, was his sister Y/n. Unmoving. Dead. 

All the air left George’s body, face consorting to match his family as he took in sight. The clothes she wore were tattered. Dirt and grime painted the visible parts of her skin not coated in her blood. Gashes upon gashes. A nasty intrusion on her temple and torso. George felt the bile form in his throat and before he could stop it the redhead was hunched over, spilling the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Arthur instantly went to him, rubbing his back. Once it appeared George had got it all out, Arthur produced a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his son's mouth as he had seemed to freeze.

“Y-Y/n,” he dropped to his knees. Crawling to Fred and their mother. His twin slightly moved aside to give space. George instantly reached for her hand, devastated when the cold touch hit his skin. “No.” Tears dropped from his eyes, George looking to his family for them to say it was all a nightmare. “N-no. No!” 

“George,” Molly whispered, reaching over to comfort him. 

He shook his head, not wanting to believe the truth. “What happened?!” Fred winced, returning to a heap of sobs. 

“She saved us,” Percy whispered, making George look up. “There was an explosion. A-and she pushed us out of the way. A wall came crashing down,” the older Weasley boy flinched, head dropping as he relieved the most horrifying moment of his life. “It crushed her.”

Molly wheeped into her daughter's chest. Picturing the scene. Unable to save her baby girl who she had spent so long wishing for. 

For the twins, it was like a piece of them was now missing. Creating a hole deep in their hearts. They all came into the world together. Y/n first, then Fred, lastly George. How were they supposed to go forward without the third piece of their puzzle? 

This question only surfaced the ocean-sized guilt swimming in their veins. Like Fred had done in the precious moments he held their dying sister, George was replaying all the times he had tormented Y/n. The constant pranking. Humiliating her in front of her friends and schoolmates. Getting her in trouble with their antics when she took the fall. Accusing her of snitching on them. 

George crumbled, clutching onto Y/n’s hand as he lowered his head to her torso. Praying to whoever above to take care of her in the afterlife and begging her spirit to forgive him. Wishing he could turn back time to tell her how much he loved her. He wanted his sister back. 

A cold breeze brushed his ear, almost like a whisper. George thought he felt a hand on his shoulder, but when he turned the closest person to him was Percy, and he was at least five steps away. 

Whatever it was Fred had felt it two. The redheads glancing to one another, anguish filling their gaze. For they had their suspicions of what--or who--was responsible for the touch. 

Turning back to Y/n’s body, Fred and George pictured what life was in store for them without their sister. Reality sunk in. No longer a bright light, but instead dimly lit. 

For what was once three became two. 

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