Tumgik
#george weasley angst
desideriumwriter · 8 months
Text
Blindsided | G.W.
Tumblr media
Summary: As the Gryffindor Quidditch team celebrates their win on the field, Malfoy begins to openly throw insults in front of George and Fred towards them, their parents, Harry, and you. George isn’t able to ignore and shrug off his mockery. It only ends in a shocking altercation between the Redheaded Gryffindor and sneering Slytherin.
Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader
Category: hurt/comfort, fluff
WC: 2.9k
CWs: physical fighting, depictions of violence/fighting, blood, yelling, injuries
A/N: this fic is based off that one part in OOTP (chapter eleven), i’m still so upset they didn’t include it in the movie </3
Tumblr media
The Gryffindor section of the stadium roared with applause and hollered once Harry caught the Golden Snitch, getting the team 30 points ahead of Slytherin, causing Gryffindor to win and finally end the game.
Harry flew to the middle of the stadium, flying high up, smiling as he held up the snitch in his hand with two fingers wrapped tightly around it, presenting it to the entire stadium. He flew down and landed carefully on the field, Fred and George went down after him, then the rest of the Gryffindor team did as well.
Fred and George abandoned their brooms and ran over to Harry, Fred was giving him aggressive pats on the back while George ruffled his hair as they praised him. You grinned at their brotherly behavior towards Harry. The proud athletes began to grin and cheer loudly while punching their fists in the air in victory, hugging each other tightly, giving each other high-fives and handshakes all in celebration.
But of course, Draco landed by, ready to ruin this happy moment, and started to sneer about something towards the Gryffindor team, it seemed that Harry was the only one to notice, he turned around to look at Draco, then turned back towards his team when he stopped talking, he was trying his best to ignore him and not bark back at the Slytherin boy.
You smiled and applauded along with everyone else, you decided to leave your spot and excitedly walk down the stairs to go and congratulate Harry and the rest of the team on the field, also because you mostly wanted to see George. You were too impatient and too excited to wait an hour or so because George had to clean up.
You completely forgot that Draco was spitting something at the other team and constantly pointing at Harry, George, and Fred.
While Fred was squeezing Harry's shoulder and George was in the midst of a handshake with Harry, you watched the twins' heads snap up at Draco and their bodies stiffen, the big grins they previously had on their faces disappeared immediately. Yours did as well.
At this point you were running onto the field because you knew something was off, something was about to happen, and whatever it was going to be, it definitely won't be good.
You got there in time to hear most of what Draco was mocking about.
"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy called out towards them, “But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly and we wanted to sing about his mother, but we couldn't fit in useless loser either for his father!” He laughed, you looked at George, a scowl covered his face which was red with anger, there was practically steam coming out his ears. You grabbed onto his hand, squeezing it, to try and get his attention.
George looked down at you, his face softened slightly at the sight of you, but it was still covered with rage, you shook your head slowly at him, mouthing ‘no’, as an attempt to get him to calm down, knowing he was seconds away from doing something stupid, he sighed and looked back at Malfoy.
“Oh! I see your little girlfriend has come to your defense, hasn’t she Georgie?” Malfoy mocked, George’s fists balled up, hands shaking, his fingers were squeezed tightly around yours to the point where it was uncomfortable, yet you still kept your hand in his.
"You like the Weasley's, don't you, Harry? Especially you too, Y/L/N. You spend the holidays there and everything, I see you take any advantage you could get to be around George. You definitely have a liking for him, huh?” It seemed Malfoy had forgotten about Harry at this point, his attention drifted from Harry to you, you were now his target.
“In my opinion, I can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been raised in a dirty-blooded household even the Weasley's hovel smells okay." Malfoy smirked.
You turned around to figure out where Fred went, only to see a panicked Angelina trying to calm down him as well.
"Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just a sore loser.” Angelina stood in front of him, placing her hands flat gently on his chest. Alicia and Katie eventually joined in on trying to hold him back and calm him down too.
Harry stood on the other side of George, grabbing his upper arm, muttering to George that Malfoy was just trying to rile him up, attempting to get him to walk away as he looked around for Hooch, who was still lecturing Crabbe about his illegal Bludger attack. George didn’t budge.
"Or perhaps," Malfoy continued, leering as he slowly walked towards you, getting more in your face with every step, "it makes you think about your dirty muggle life, Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it, doesn’t it, you filthy mudblood?" He let out a small laugh and then walked away. Those last few words were all it took for George to snap. Fred and Harry as well. However, Fred was stuck, still being held back by the others.
It only was a few seconds before you felt George's hand slip from your grip, you saw him and Harry sprint towards Malfoy.
All of it, everything happened so quickly.
Harry shoved Malfoy back around, he held back his fist that was still holding the Snitch, then sunk his fist into Malfoys stomach, he nearly fell over from the force of the hit as he groaned and held his stomach in pain. But, they weren’t done there. Malfoy attempted to stand up straight and throw his fist at Harry, only to be headbutted and slammed on the ground by George.
Once they were both on the ground, Harry stood on one of his arms while George hovered over him, delivering strong blows to Malfoys face and bellowing out in rage. Repeatedly punching him left and right, letting out all his fury into Malfoy's face.
You gasped and covered your mouth with two hands in shock, you were frozen. You didn’t know what to do or how to stop him, if you could even be able to stop him. It was scary, George was scary. This was a whole new side of him you’ve never seen before.
“Fuck you, Malfoy! Don’t you ever talk about my family! Don’t you ever fucking call Y/N that! Stupid piece of shit!” George screamed at him as he continued to beat him. You couldn’t hear everything he said due to his screaming eventually blending in with the crowds, several voices pleading for him to stop, some were encouraging the altercation.
“Harry! Get him off!” “Stay back, Fred!” “I’ve been waiting for this to happen!” “Get a picture of this Colin!” “Why’s nobody helping him?” “Do something!” “Fight! Fight! Fight!” “Why isn’t she doing anything?” “He’s gonna kill him!” “Someone get Madam Hooch!”
Voices screamed and overlapped from all around the stadium.
Kids were leaning over the wooden rails, standing on their seats, some were even using the binoculars they brought to get a closer look at the altercation.
George only paused for a second to warn Malfoy. He grabbed him by the collar, partially lifting him up from the grass.
“If you ever, ever say anything like that about my family or my friends again. I will leave you with more than a broken nose. Do you understand?” George had the look of a madman covering his face, Malfoy only nodded and whined. Yet, George let go and let him fall back on the ground, and went back to delivering hits.
There was so much noise. The crowd screaming, Fred screaming to be let go of, the girls trying to quieten him down, the repeated sound of bone hitting bone, George continuing to swear, Malfoy crying out in pain, the impact of the punches.
A whistle blew, but George didn’t care, he ignored the strong, high pitched sound, his hearing was only focused on the sound of the impact from his fists swinging into Malfoy's face instead.
“Impedimenta!” A woman's voice hollered. George, along with Harry, was knocked over backward, the force of the spell flinging them away from Malfoy, who was curled up on the grass, clutching his stomach, groaning and whimpering with blood from his nose covering the bottom center half of his face and staining his Quidditch uniform.
George hit the ground right next to you, only sporting a small nosebleed with a swollen and split open lip, he attempted to leap back up on his feet, but you grabbed onto him to keep him down, you noticed that Fred was still being restrained by the others, eventually giving up on trying to launch at Malfoy, knowing the fight was over and there was no chance he’d be able to get to him without getting launched back too.
"What on Earth do you think you're doing?" screamed Madam Hooch as she walked closer, stopping once she was standing next to Malfoy.
"I have never seen behavior like this! Both of you, back up to the castle and straight to your Head of House's office! You too Frederick Weasley! Go! Now!” Hooch pointed and drifted her finger between each of the three boys. Harry began to storm out, George getting up exhaustedly, still taking heavy breaths while walking off. He didn’t say a word as he passed by you, only making eye contact for a second.
You weren’t able to read what the exact look on his face was, it was a mixture of anger, sadness, and maybe even some disappointment.
“The rest of you, return to your common rooms right this moment!” The crowd filled with groans and whispers as they began to exit out the stadium.
Tumblr media
You sat on the sofa in the common room, the book you were trying to read sitting open and abandoned next to you. You had one leg perched up, your chin sat on your knee, as you watched the flames dance in the fireplace. Fred, George, and Harry stormed in the room, they were all stripped from their Quidditch uniforms and had large scowls on their faces.
You weren’t even able to get a word out before they had all gone up to their dorm.
You sighed to yourself, laying down on the sofa, watching and listening to the fire crackle and glow. You couldn’t stop thinking of what happened earlier, it was taking over your mind.
You’ve never seen George so serious, so angry, so full of rage.
You felt guilty, maybe even a little gross, because a part of you liked watching it go down. Seeing that side of George was scary, but you liked it.
Of course you liked seeing Draco get what he finally deserves. But, you liked seeing George during it. You liked how concentrated he was, how he screamed and swore at him, you liked seeing his strength being put to use for something other than Quidditch, you liked how you got to see him let his anger out, you liked how he defended the people he cared about.
The weight of exhaustion had finally hit you, the events of today had worn you out completely. You soon fell asleep on the sofa after accepting the fact that you enjoyed watching George during the altercation, that you enjoyed it maybe a bit too much.
Tumblr media
Your eyes fluttered and slowly rose open, you inhaled while taking a look at your surroundings, you couldn’t have been asleep for too long, as it was still night, the common room was quiet, but one thing had changed. George was sitting on one of the chairs across from you.
“Hi.” He gave you a weak and forced smile, the cut on his lip was scabbed up now.
“Hey. Um, how are you doing?” You propped yourself up on your elbow.
“Um….” His leg repeatedly bounced up and down quickly, he bit his cheek, his eyes wandered around the room, he was planning on what he was about to say next.
He took a large breath in through his nose.
“Umbridge permanently banned us from the Quidditch team.” He ignored answering your question, going straight to the bad news. Maybe his response could be his answer though, it’s obvious with an aftermath like that, he wasn’t doing good.
“What?” You exclaimed, launching yourself up and completely out of your seat.
“We’re banned from the team, we’re banned from the game. We can’t play. At all.” George shook his head with a frown on his face.
“Are you serious? But- What about Malfoy?” You paced around, it was weird talking to him in such a serious and gloomy manner.
“Nothing happened to him. Except…you know?” George gave an awkwardly tight lipped smile as he brought his bruised hands up, flipping each side to you.
“Yeah, but…shit.” You sighed, flopping back on the sofa, disappointed about the outcome of what happened to all of them. George only let out a hum of agreement.
“Fred’s taking it worse than I am. I think he’s still upset he didn’t get to join in on the beating.” He attempted to joke, you let out a small laugh, then you bit your cheek and looked at his hands, his knuckles were covered in shades of red and purple, small scabs on the tip of some. George caught on and noticed your staring.
“Oh Godric, I didn’t mean to scare you. You’re not scared of me, right? Please don’t tell me you are.” His voice filled with panic, he must’ve thought you were scared he was going to be seen as an impulsive and violent person by you.
“I’m not scared, I’m…worried. I guess I'm just still thinking about everything.” You gave a forced smile as you reassured him.
“Oh, okay.” He breathed out as he looked down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers.
“Are your hands okay? Are they broken? Did you see Madam Pompfrey for it?”
“I didn’t want to bother her this late, she’s already taking care of Malfoy so. But, yeah they’re fine. They should be.” He shrugged.
“Alright. Well, are you okay?” You tried your best to get a look at his face.
“I think I should be the one asking you that.” He let out a weak laugh, you did the same. You soon noticed that you hadn’t thought one bit about what Malfoy said when he was ridiculing you. The intensity of the fight overtook your thoughts.
After that, it was silent. Neither of you knew what to say next, you were both going over all the things Draco had said to you before George had him on the ground in your heads.
“You didn’t deserve that, for him to say all those things about you.” He moved from his spot in the chair to next to you on the sofa, crouched over, his elbows on his knees with his fists stuck together clumsily.
“Your family didn’t deserve to be talked about like that either.” You added in, trying to push the focus on them and not you.
“Of course, I should’ve scrapped him once he mentioned my mum. At least she wasn’t there to hear him say all that rubbish.” He scoffed, “It’s not fair that you were however…I just don’t want you to be his next target because of me.” He whispered the last part, your heart broke at it. He thought those insults towards you were his fault?
You opened your mouth, trying to think of something to say in response. You couldn’t think of anything. A million thoughts were going through your head yet you were still speechless.
“‘Cause, I care for you. You know? I really do.” He added, his voice filled with sweetness and gloom.
“I do too, George. You mean a lot to me.” You unclenched his fists from each other, taking one of his hands and intertwining your fingers with his.
“Really? I do?” He sat up and looked at you, there was genuine surprise on his face.
“Of course, you absolutely do.” You smiled with your eyebrows raised. Was he really questioning how much he meant to you? Does he not know how much you care for him?
There was another silence, but this time it wasn’t sad or awkward or embarrassing or guilt ridden, it was something else. A much stronger feeling. A tension. A positive tension.
You only looked at each other, admiring each other's features, you took in every freckle scattered around his face, his dark umber colored eyes, his smooth skin, his long red eyelashes, his soft lips.
Then something inside you snapped, but not like how George snapped earlier on the field. You leaned in, pressing your lips to his, you felt him push into the kiss. His hands gently cupping around your face. It felt as if both of your lips were magnets, pulling into each other.
You pulled away to catch your breath. George stared at you, face covered in shock and passion. You weren’t able to form a sentence, he took all the words out of your mouth once he connected his to yours.
“I was hoping you would do that.” Was all he said as he grinned and you giggled, blushing and attempting to turn your head away only for it to be pulled back by George's hands holding your face and pulling you back in for more.
Tumblr media
tell me what you thought! <3
2K notes · View notes
vilentia · 3 months
Text
Physical Touch
George Weasley x reader
Tumblr media
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.
450 notes · View notes
l0standn0tf0und · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
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))
Tumblr media
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
406 notes · View notes
apparentlytheproblem · 3 months
Text
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
Tumblr media Tumblr media
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
253 notes · View notes
writersblockedx · 1 year
Text
Potions for Pranks
Tumblr media
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."
2K notes · View notes
emeritusemeritus · 2 months
Text
No Good Deed [George Weasley x Reader]
Tumblr media
Part 9 (final)
Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.
Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.
Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.
Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. SMUT. The smut has arrived! P in V, oral (both). Angst, sadness, grief. Mentions of cheating, infidelity. Tags will be updated with each chapter. Not Beta-read or spell checked.
The final chapter of this whirlwind story 🖤
Tumblr media
In complete contrast to the bustling crowd and noisy room of chattering people, Diagon Alley was practically deserted at this late hour, the shops king since closed with only the hospitality locations open. Looking up at the familiar orange building, you pulled out your wand and cast the series of spells to unlock the protective enchantments before stepping inside and locking back up. You slipped out of your heels by clinging onto the stair rail before scooping them up in your hands and carrying them with you as you ascended the stairs, for once knowing exactly what you needed.
You knew if you returned to the flat George would immediately find you before you could have the chance to clear your head, to work out what you wanted and what you needed to say. There was only one thing that would bring you comfort now and as if you were completely on autopilot, you climbed the stairs and entered the flat above the shop.
It was different to how you remembered it, much emptier now then how it had been so many years ago, of course due to most of George's practical things being at your flat. You paused, standing outside the first door on the left after the little closer and hovered your hand across the doorknob, taking a deep breath to stabilise yourself before you slowly opened the door. Fred's room.
It was almost exactly as you remembered it though it was lifeless and the air was a little stale, a natural consequence of it being shut up for so long. Paperwork, scattered notes still littered the desk, along with a myriad of bits and bobs that he used whilst working on his new projects. The bed was made, the mismatch of random sheets and covers making you smile as they looked so perfectly Fred, so much so that you couldn't help but walk over and run your hand over the soft fabric, remembering how it had felt against your skin so long ago. Just like George, he had a large dresser against the back wall, almost like a complete mirror of George's room layout in reverse and you found yourself drawn to it almost immediately.
You opened a drawer and reached inside, feeling tears welling up in your eyes at the sight. His green 'F' jumper, knitted so many years ago by Molly, folded neatly into the drawer, right on top. You pulled it out and held it up to your face, desperately searching for the smell you remembered. It still smelt like him, though it was faint. The sugary sweet smell mixed with a natural musk and a side note of smoke, like a marshmallow that had been toasted a little too long. It mixed deliciously with the scent of Molly's washing powder concoction and blended all together to create the exact smell of Fred. Sweet and smoky, warm and comforting, just like him.
Tears streamed silently down your face as you held the jumper up to your face, never wanting to stop smelling the scent that filled your nose and your mind, so desperately wanting to feel him surround you. You took a seat on the creaky chair at his desk, still clutching the jumper tightly as you allowed yourself a little cry, though you weren't quite sure what you were crying for. Was it Freddie? A longing for simpler times when it was just the three of you without any complications. Was it George, and the events that had happened? Seeing him with someone else or his declaration of love that had felt so vividly real? Either way, your mind was a complete mush of emotion and memories, everything seeming to haunt you in that moment.
"I'm so sorry Freddie," you said out loud, tears still streaming down your face. "I just wanted to help. I couldn't let them take this away from George, not when he'd already lost so much. We both have."
You knew it was pointless to have a conversation with him, to speak to him as if he was there, as if he'd reply to you but in that moment, it helped. There was so much you needed to say to him that it seemed like the perfect time to unload your feelings.
"It's ridiculous isn't it, I'm completely pathetic. You'd tell me wouldn't you? Tell me I was being a prat, to just talk to him, 'it's not like he's going to petrify you'," you laughed through your tears, imagining the words coming out of Fred's mouth. "I miss you so much." More tears flowed as you spoke the words out loud, the silence of the room only highlighting your loss.
You were about to speak again when a picture on the desk caught your eye, one you'd never seen before. It was taken on Christmas Day at Grimmauld Place, just after Arthur had gotten home from St Mungo's. It was you, Fred and George, all dressed in your Christmas gifts from Molly and Arthur, the matching scarves for the twins and your own though yours was slightly darker in colour with your initial stitched into the flowing bit at the bottom. You were all smiling and laughing together, though you couldn't remember what about, huddled together around the fire in the lounge. You were looking at Fred and belly laughing, hunched over a little and resting your head against his shoulder. Fred looked completely elated, eyes almost closed in laughter, from the looks of it he was the instigator, as per usual. George was looking at you, openly cracking up with laughter but his eyes were focused in on you, his hand on your shoulder.
That one photo alone had seemed to give you complete clarity. It had cleared your head of all complications and all the events of the night, the good and the bad, and had transported you back to the time you were happiest, forcing you to realise what was truly important.
"How the bloody hell do you always know how to get me?" You mumbled with a smirk, speaking to Fred again as you tore yourself away from the photo. You knew what had to be done now, the time spent amongst Fred's things giving you the adjustment you needed to realise what your priorities should be. You stood up and walked over to the drawer, folding up the jumper and pressing a kiss to the embroidered F on the front before you placed it back into the drawer.
Closing the door behind you felt like closing another chapter in your life, a parting of ways of your old self as you prepared for what needed to be done. You walked out of the shop, stopping to place your heels on and locked up before apparating away back to your flat.
"Angel?" You heard almost as soon as your feet touched the ground. He sounded a mixture of relieved and panicked as he stepped into view, calling out for you. "Angel, I was so worried."
He reaches out as if he's going to pull you in to his arms but stops himself, knowing that you might not want him anywhere near you after the events earlier. He sees the messed up makeup on your face, no doubt fat tear marks littering your cheeks and his face immediately drops.
"I'm so sorry, I know you saw everything and I can't tell you how sorry I am. I never should have been up there with her, I realise it was stupid now but I really believed her little tale about the thestral thrashers- not that that's important now." He cuts himself off, realising he was waffling but you could hardly listen to him, too occupied by the genuinely remorseful look in his eyes. He looked more devastated than you did, and that was saying something. "I know our marriage is... complicated... but I would never do anything like that to you, I just couldn't."
His words hang in the air for a few moments as you'd process them, believing his every word.
"I know," you say quietly, the first time you'd spoken since arriving home.
"I know you might not believe me and- wait," he says, realising what you said. "You really believe me?"
"Yes George," you say stepping forward to reach out for him. Like an involuntary response, he pulls you in to his arms, never once taking his eyes off your face. There's a few moments that pass as you hold on to each other in comfortable silence and it's like the tension, the hurt and the distance between you had disappeared instantly in that moment. Water under the bridge, you thought.
"I'm sorry I haven't been around much, I've barely had time to sleep in between running the shop, sorting the new lines and getting the investors off my back," he admits with a bashful smile, stroking your hair as you hold on to each other.
"I could have helped you," you say, enjoying the soft material of his suit against your bare arms.
"I already ask too much of you," he says with a dismissive shrug, though his tone is light.
"I'm your wife," you say with your own shrug, and a smile, as if it was the most natural excuse in the word.
"Yeah, you are," he replies with a wide smile, still stroking your hair, as if the information had slowly sunk in, making him realise that you'd do anything for him.
"I have to ask," you say softly, gently pulling away and walking him over to the sofa by your joined hands until you're seated with your legs grazing one another.
"Anything," he says honestly.
"What happened?" You ask quietly, trying to keep the emotions out of your voice but some slipped through. "The honeymoon was, well it was perfect but then everything stopped. You didn't touch me anymore, hardly looked at me, what did I do?"
He looks up at you with a look of complete heartbreak at your final question and he scoots across the sofa to grab your legs, making sure you were focused on him as his right hand comes up to cup your face and jaw.
"You didn't do anything Angel, it was perfect but I was being selfish," he explains, his eyes imploring yours as if he needs you to know that it wasn't your fault. "When I accidentally called you, that, well I realised how insensitive I was being, how I'd let myself get carried away with the whole thing. You agreed to marry me for the sake of the business, it was never meant to be more but I couldn't help myself. I'd gone too far and I'd not considered your feelings, so I pulled away to make things less complicated."
"Which complicated things," you retort, a slight smirk tugging at your mouth. He snorts and nods as he takes in your words.
"I realise now that it was a stupid idea," he answers truthfully, still gently nodding. "I just didn't want you to feel any pressure to you know... with me. The last thing I'd ever want was to feel like an obligation, especially if you weren't into me."
You can't help but let out a little snort through your nose at his words, realising how completely wrong he'd got it.
"Yeah because I don't want to have sex with the boy I've fancied since fourth year," you sarcastically retort with a slight roll of your eyes and a smirk.
You wished you could have recorded George's reaction to your words so that you could replay it over and over again for the rest of your life. He chokes on nothing, eyes bulging as he stares at you in complete shock.
"You.. what?"
"What?" You ask, not sure what part he was questioning.
"We've been married for nearly six months, friends for well over a decade and this is the first time I'm hearing about this?" He looks utterly bewildered and it's all you can do not to chuckle, though that would probably not be the right reaction for this moment. "That would have been very helpful to know six months ago," he says, slowly becoming less shocked and more smiley. You smile back at him and nod, realising that you should have just told him, even if you ran the risk of losing him like you'd always feared.
"I was terrified of losing you, or making things awkward," you admit, "the last thing I ever wanted was to make things uncomfortable between us."
"Wait, what about Fred?" He asks, suddenly remembering your past situation-ship with his twin.
This time, you reach out for George's leg, trying to force the words out that you knew needed to be said after taking a big breath.
"Fred knew I liked you, he used to tease me about it incessantly, he figured it out just before fifth year," you say with a smile, memories of his teasing flashing in your mind as he realised not long after their trip to Egypt just how hung up on his twin you were. "But you never seemed to notice me, at least not like that. But then you asked Angelina to the ball and I was so upset, I knew then that you'd never look at me like that. Fred came to comfort me and we ended up drinking this huge bottle of fire whiskey and he asked me to the ball, though I always knew it was more of a pity date he always insisted that it wasn't." You paused, thinking of the picture in your memory box of you all at the Yule Ball. "Watching you dance with Angelina, you just looked so happy and it killed me."
You paused to take a breath, trying not to cry as you thought back to that night and how painful it had been to see him look so happy with someone else.
"Fred kissed me that night, told me I was beautiful. He knew he wasn't a replacement for you but he was the 'next best thing'," you air quoted him, hearing his voice so clearly, a chuckle falling from your lips. "It was never really supposed to go anywhere past that one night together but I guess we became friends with benefits and though I did have feelings for him, it was always you. He knew that, it's why we were never truly together. But then you found out about us and we realised that it had pushed you further away, I'd never get a chance with you after that so we tried to make the most of it but we could never really be together. I always wanted you."
He was silent as he listened to you, which only made you want to fill the somewhat awkward gaps in the conversation but you don't, knowing nothing more needed to be said.
George surprises you by pulling you in for a steaming hot kiss, without a single ounce of hesitation as you'd laid yourself bare before him, finally admitting everything you should have said at the beginning.
He pulls away suddenly with a look of pure mischief in his eyes.
"If you wanted to date me you could have just asked, didn't need to trick me into marrying you," he snarks and you instantly gasp and hit him in the chest as he laughs at you.
"I didn't trick you! You needed me to marry you for the business!"
"Hmmmm sure," he says, still smiling as he kisses you again, his hand cupping your jaw as the kiss heats up once again, though this time it's much more playful and teasing. "I'll let you tell our grandkids that."
"Pppft tell them yourself," you snark as he pulls you closer to him, identical grins on both of your faces.
"Oh I will," he smirks once he's got you pretty much in his lap, an impressive feat considering your rather restrictive dress. "Wait."
He shifts you slightly until you're beside him on the sofa again and he moves to stand up from the couch before kneeling down in front of you, on one knee.
"I realise we've done this completely out of sync here but I have loved you for so long, never thinking I'd ever get to be with you in my wildest dreams. Would you do me the honour of being my wife, wholly and completely?"
You surge forward even before he'd finished talking and sweep him into a breathtaking kiss, your hands reaching up into his hair and across his shoulders as he clutches at your waist. When you pull away, you're both in complete bliss, smiling at each other like fools as you catch your breath.
"I'm so glad, because I couldn't keep my hands off you for one more minute, look at you baby, so beautiful," he says, voice dropping lower as his eyes wash over you and your slightly dishevelled dress. His hands sneak back around your waist and around your jaw after pulling your hair away from your shoulder, lips crashing down onto yours, ready to claim you anew as his wife.
Tumblr media
Taglist requests
@ferntv
@aigowen
@that-lame-ghoul9000
@jules-with-stars
@sleepiemocha
@seppys-return-to-madness
@wtvbabes
@the-mrs-malik-styles
@cedslover
@nisapoosworld
@dashhhhkaaa
@ghostlytv
@nerdymesss
@costheticbabe
@cliffburtonscig
@lildrunkjkk
@levylovegood
@jewelsrules
@jphxnix
@asuperconfusedgirl
@staceys-moms-thighs
@nighttimewrites
@egghasnoleg
@mel119g
@angelrioter
@minatozsana
@quinny921
@blahhh819
@comicgollum20
@moonieseyelash
@marisimps
@xslashers
@70s-chic
@shadyunknowncreation
@rockabieesstuff
@moon-2424
@chx-la
@malenk
@jimmywoosimp
@soulessfictionaddict
@twistedlaces1909
@brookiecookiez0
@nightowlgirl
@fiathefirst
@football1921
@in-the-middle-of-the-sadness
@rk-ceres
@kisses4fred
@apolloleprince
@slashersimpshadow
@slytherinambitious
@screamingoverfiction
@rhunew
@tomhockstetter7-111
@hagridshaircare
@ellouisa17
@fonderaura
@clemlament
@jennapancake
@murderisfunlol
@ohantonia
@storytime-20
@guavacookie23
@satansdarlin
@smartoneamia
@littlelillysjs
@victorylr
@nanamisfootrest
@nulixity
@03michi01
@hjpbiggestdrider
@wzardweasley
@katarinealbers
161 notes · View notes
george-weasleys-girl · 9 months
Note
Heyy, could you write something where the reader is jealous? You can choose if you want to write about Fred or George
Thank you for your request! This is a long one. It really took on a life of its own. I hope you like it.
~•~
George x Fem Reader
~•~
George’s laughter carried across the store, bringing a smile to your face. You turned to see what had delighted him so much and immediately regretted it. Your heart plummeted, and sullen glower replaced your smile as you watched him chat with the bouncy, vapid woman who'd started coming into the shop at least once a week, making a beeline straight to George every time. She obviously had a thing for him, and from the looks of it, he was developing a thing for her.
You just couldn't understand why George would be even remotely attracted to her. Sure, she was pretty, but she was also dumb as a stump. You'd talked to her a few times and were convinced she had a maximum of two brain cells bouncing around in her skull, one of which was solely responsible for keeping her alive.
You looked back up to see George, smiling wide, enraptured by whatever nonsense she was babbling as she twirled her precious little curls around her index finger.
Wiping away the tears from your eyes, you went back to stocking the Canary Creams, slamming them down on the display, startling the elderly lady perusing the shelf next to you.
"Sorry, ma'am," you apologized. "Rough day." The woman huffed and shook her head before scurrying off to the other side of the store.
You sighed, your shoulders sagging in defeat. You knew you had no right to be jealous. George was your boss, not your boyfriend. He could flirt with whoever the hell he wants. If your heart got broken in the process, it was your own damn fault for falling for him.
~•~
George watched as you tidied up a display of Fainting Fancies. When he hired you two years ago, he was exhausted and frazzled and was looking for people who could learn the ropes quickly and help out in the newly reopened shop until Fred recovered from the spinal injury he'd gotten during the Battle of Hogwarts.
In no time, you were all but running the store, allowing him to spend more time with his twin. He was eternally grateful, but it wasn't until around six months later that he saw you as anything more than a valued employee.
At that point, Fred had started working for a couple of hours a day. But he was still fragile, and one afternoon, he lost his balance and fell. You did two things that day that endeared you to George forever. While he ran to help Fred, you somehow managed to keep both the customers and other employees away from the area, saving Fred from the embarrassment of being seen sprawled out on the floor.
Then, after spending several hours at the hospital, followed by the difficult task of getting a very stubborn and very grumpy Fred settled into bed, George wanted nothing more than to just fall flat on his face in bed, or on the couch or even the floor. All three sounded equally appealing. But he couldn't. Fred needed to eat, and he probably should, too.
He'd just decided to use magic to whip up some chicken fingers and french fries when someone knocked on the door, causing a confused look to cross his face. It couldn't be one of the employees. The shop had long since closed, and everybody had gone home. And he knew it wouldn't be his mum. Fred had made him promise not to tell the family he'd fallen. He didn't want them "worrying over nothing."
George opened up the door to find you standing there with a huge bowl of spaghetti and some freshly baked garlic bread. "Hey," you said a little shyly. "I figured you'd probably be exhausted when you got home, so I thought I'd make dinner for you and Fred. I hope you don't mind."
"Mind?" A massive smile replaced the confusion on George's face. "No, I don't mind at all, come in!" He opened the door wider. "You are an absolute angel for doing this. How did you know we were home?"
"I didn't," you replied. "But I still have the flat key you gave me, so I could check in on Fred when you got wrapped up with customers. I thought I'd just leave it on the counter with a spell cast to keep it nice and hot."
For a moment, George looked like he might cry, but then he smiled again. "Would you like to join us for dinner? Well, really me. Fred will take his dinner in bed."
"Well, I've already eaten," you said, watching his face fall. "But I can never turn down a slice of garlic bread."
"Ok, great!" He replied. "Just let me get Fred set up."
You smiled. "Shall I get him a plate together?"
"Thank you! That would be wonderful," George said as he hurried into Fred's bedroom.
That was the night George Weasley fell in love with you.
~•~
You managed to make it through the rest of the morning without breaking down. By the time your lunch break rolled around, you had reigned your emotions back under control.
You sat outside on the little patio behind the shop, nibbling on your sandwich and mulling over the situation. You'd never intended to fall in love with George. In fact, you'd never intended to work at the joke shop at all. You'd taken the job out of sheer desperation.
While at Hogwarts, you discovered you had a knack for healing, and since you didn't have a clue what you wanted to do after graduation, training as a healer seemed just as good as anything else. As it turned out, you grew to love the work, and for a while, you couldn't imagine doing anything else.
And then the war happened.
You didn't know if it was because you weren't cut out for the raw intensity of being a healer or if it was watching helplessly as people you knew and loved died all around you. Either way, the war broke you.
The very thought of continuing on as healer sent you into paralyzing panic attacks. So, you packed up and moved in with your muggle sister. For the first few months, you carried your weight by doing all the cleaning and cooking and taking on any other chores that needed doing.
It worked well for a while, but your sister didn't have a great paying job, and it soon became evident that you'd need to pitch in financially. You'd hoped to find something in the magical world, but the prospects weren't promising. Most of the business owners had taken to the hills after the return of Voldemort. And, though they were now returning, many of them barely had the means left to restart their business, never mind hiring on help.
The outlook was so bleak that you were beginning to think that working in the muggle world was your only option. Then, one morning, you spied a Help Wanted ad in the Daily Prophet. Within a week, you were working at the infamous Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Then, within a couple of months, you'd become George's right-hand woman, taking on the lion's share of running the shop so he could take care of Fred.
Soon after, George found out you had healing experience and started asking you for advice. Eventually, you were going upstairs to help. More often than not, it was to convince Fred to do something. Or not do something.
"He won't listen to me," George would say. "Maybe he'll listen to you."
That's when your feelings for George began to develop. During those early days, watching him care for his brother with such patience and gentleness, even when Fred was at his worst, won you over.
"I don't need your fucking help!" Fred would yell.
"I know," George would calmly say, "but the healers said you could reverse some of your progress if you try to stand on your own right now. You don't want to end up back in the hospital, do you?"
"No," Fred would huff.
"Good. Now, put your arm around my shoulders so we can get you in your wheelchair."
And now, here you were. Madly in love with a man who'd never feel the same. Who was now falling in love with someone you were certain didn't deserve him or could make him happy. You rolled your eyes. So much for keeping your emotions in check. You balled up what was left of your sandwich and hurled it into the nearby waste bin and then preceded to stomp from one end of the patio to the other, your hands balled into tight fists, until your break was over.
~•~
"Mate, I know you like her," Fred spoke as he and George finished up some paperwork in the office.
"I more than like her, Freddie, but I'm her boss for Godric's sake. I can't just start dating an employee."
"Why not?"
"What do you mean, why not?" George stared at his twin. "For one, it's unprofessional, and two, what if it doesn't work out? It would make everything weird."
Fred sighed. "You have a limited time to ask her out. She might quit or meet someone else, and then where will you be?"
George remained silent for a long while, chewing on his thumbnail. "Maybe you're right," he said finally.
"Of course I'm right," Fred smirked. "So, are you going to do it?"
"Yeah," George half-grinned. "I'm gonna ask her out."
~•~
You'd finished up with your closing duties and headed upstairs to see if George or Fred needed you to do anything else before you left.
Their office door was open, just a crack. You lifted your hand to knock when you heard Fred's cheeky voice. "Of course I'm right. So are you gonna do it?"
"Yeah," George answered. "I'm gonna ask her out."
It was if someone had punched you in the gut. George was going to ask Miss Vapid out. You clamped your mouth over your hand to cover the sob that fell from your lips unbidden and backed away from the door as quietly as possible. As soon as you were out of earshot, you turned and fled the shop.
~•~
"Did she just leave?" George made one more turn around the store. "Without saying anything?"
"That's not like her," Fred said.
"No. It isn't," George raked his fingers through his hair. "I hope everything's alright."
~•~
You barely slept that night, and when you did, your dreams were plagued with images of George laughing with his soon to be girlfriend, holding her hand, kissing her. You'd wake up in tears, followed by another hour of tossing and turning, before dozing back off and starting the whole vicious cycle over again.
When the sun finally crested the horizon, you drug yourself out of bed and headed to the kitchen. Luckily, today was your day off, and you fully intended to start it off right. With a glass of wine or two or maybe ten. You were exhausted, sore, and heartsick, and you just didn't want to feel anymore.
You'd just finished off your second glass when someone knocked on the door. You rolled your eyes. Who the hell is here, ruining my perfectly good pity party at... you looked down at your watch, the fucking ass-crack of dawn?
~•~
George spent the night pacing from one end of the apartment to the other.
Why would you just leave like that?
Were you feeling ill?
Or did something happen yesterday?
Did he or Fred say something stupid and hurt your feelings?
Why didn't you just come and talk to him if that was the case?
He'd almost sent you an owl at least 782 times last night, but chickened out every time. And of course, today was your day off. So that meant he'd spend the next twenty-four hours worrying himself sick over you.
"George, have you slept at all?" Fred shuffled out of his bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"No."
Fred sighed and went to put on a pot of coffee. "Why don't you just go and talk to her?"
"Don't you think that'd be a bit weird. Me, her boss, showing up on her doorstep at 7am, wondering why she left work without saying goodbye."
"At this point, Georgie, who the fuck cares? You're going to make yourself physically ill if you don't find out what's going on."
George rubbed a hand over his face. "Ok. Yeah. You're right. But I need about a gallon of coffee first."
Fred opened up one of the kitchen cabinets and pulled out a thermos. "Take it with you, mate."
~•~
You swung the door open, ready to give whoever it was a piece of your mind, and froze when you saw George standing there. He looked exactly like you felt. Good thing he's not flying anywhere, your tipsy self thought briefly. He'd have to check in the bags under his eyes before they'd let him on the plane.
"Why are you here?" The words came out sharper than you intended it, causing George to take a step back.
"I, um, I was worried about you," he fumbled. "You left without saying goodbye yesterday."
"You're here at seven in the morning because I didn't say goodbye?"
"Well, yeah... that's not like you. At all. I was worried something had happened yesterday."
Worried something had happened yesterday? You almost laughed in his face. "Come on in," you said. "I'm gonna need another glass of wine for this one. Want one?"
George followed you into the living room. "Love...why are you drinking? How much have you had?"
You shrugged and upended your glass and then wiped your mouth on your sleeve. "Why do you care? I can do what I want in my free time. You're just my boss. It's not like you're my boyfriend or anything."
He visibly flinched at the last comment, but at this point, you didn't care.
"I really am worried. Something happened yesterday. Please tell me what it was. I want to help."
This time, you did laugh. "You really wanna know what happened yesterday? I realized that I'm a fucking idiot. That's what happened yesterday."
"I - I don't understand," George searched her eyes for any clues.
"No, of course you wouldn't. And it's not your fault. Not really. And I shouldn't be angry with you, but I am," you rambled. "It's my own fault for being stupid. And I'm gonna keep being stupid as long as I'm working there. So, yeah, I'm giving you my two week notice."
"What?! How we go from you saying you're stupid to you quitting?"
"It doesn't matter." You reached for the wine bottle, but George grabbed it first and moved it out of your reach.
"Hey!" You tried to grab it back, but he stood, took it to the kitchen, and emptied the rest of it into the sink.
"Why the fuck did you do that?"
"Because you're done with it," George tossed the empty bottle in the trash. "And we're going to work through whatever the fuck this is."
You sighed. "There's nothing to work through. I'm quitting, and that's that."
"No." George said simply.
"No? What do you mean, no?"
"I'm not letting you quit."
"As if you have a choice in the matter," you said. "Why do you care anyway? You'll find someone to replace me easily enough. Probably someone who's better than me."
"No," George repeated. "No one can replace you. There's no one better than you."
You shook your head and stood, turning away from him. "Not even your new girlfriend," you muttered under your breath.
"My new girl - what are you talking about?"
Shit. You didn't mean for him to hear that.
"What new girlfriend?" He asked again.
Something about the way he said it, with such shock and indignation, as if he had no idea what you were talking about, set you off, and you rounded on him. "Mindy or Wendy or whatever the fuck her name is!"
He looked genuinely confused for a moment, and then realization hit. "You mean Cindy? Cindy Fletcher? Why in Godric's name would I want to date her?"
"I don't know," you threw your hands in the air. "You tell me. You were all up in her face yesterday, hanging on to her every word."
"She was telling me about her muggle cousins new invention, and it sounded really cool and - " George paused. "Wait, why do you care so much who I talk to?"
"I - I don't," you stammered. "Just forget it. Just forget I said anything at all."
"Are you - jealous?"
You turned your back to him again. "Don't be ridiculous."
"You are, aren't you?" There was surprise in his voice and something else you couldn't quite place.
He moved to stand before you. "Do you," he hesitated for a moment. "Like me? Like as more than just your boss or your friend?"
The tears you'd been fighting to hold back poured down your cheeks. There was no denying it now. "Yes, I like you! Ok? I more than like you. But you're my boss - "
George pulled you into his arms, silencing you with a kiss. Your first instinct to anyone kissing you unexpectedly was to push them away. But then it dawned on you what was happening. Did George like you back? Apparently so, otherwise he wouldn't be kissing you right now. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.
~•~
"I've been wanting to do that for ages," George confessed. You were cuddled on the sofa, refusing to let go of one another.
"Me too," you smiled. "Why did you never say anything?"
George shrugged. "I'm your boss. It would've been inappropriate. And what if things didn't work out? Talk about awkward. Us trying to work together."
"Hm," you nodded. "So does that mean I should still quit?"
"If it means I can keep kissing you like that, I'll fire you right now."
You giggled. "I don't think that will be necessary."
"Good," he said. "The place would fall apart without you."
"Pfft, don't be silly," you scoffed.
George pulled back a little so he could look at your face. "I'm not. I'm being dead serious. The shop would fall apart without you. And so would I."
You opened your mouth to respond, but the only thing that came out were the words you'd been holding back for so long. "I love you, George Weasley."
His smile melted your heart. "I love you, too," he said and pulled you in for another kiss.
~•~
@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @lastwandastan @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe @drama-queen-fromthevault @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @smallsweetvanillabean @themaraudersslut @hanne-montana
336 notes · View notes
shadowbriar · 1 year
Text
George Weasley - Delicate
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing : (F/M) || George Weasley x Reader Word Count : 4.1k Warning : Heavy angst as requested. Notes : I got a little bit carried away with this one.
Their laughter echoes within the walls of the Common Room. Her face was burning, both from fluster and the fatigued muscles of her face from the non stop smile. She was sitting the furthest from the fireplace yet she could’ve sworn that her skin was flaming in fire. Her eyes are glued on him, watching every gesture, every breathy laughter and every cheers he made. He was the centre of her life, the very source of her drive.
But she supposed, so is the whole castle.
She’s reminded every other time they have a conversation that she’s merely one from his long list of admirers. Being the calmer twin only meant that it was easier for girls to approach him. Girls would come at him, giving him love letters and other trinkets in hope to catch just a glimpse of his attention. And every single time, she has to pretend that the gesture didn’t bother her because what exactly could she do? It isn’t like she has a chance with him in the first place.
George Fabian Weasley was the definition of perfection. At least, in her dictionary. He was smart, within and outside of academic achievements. He knew exactly how to brighten the room, which jokes to crack and what prank to do to lift the mood. He was kind and affectionate. Everything a girl could dream of their knight in shining armour would be.
“Have you heard?” Some girl from her left whispered to another yet loud enough for her to hear “Fred Weasley has asked someone to be his date, meaning only George’s still up on the market.”
“Really? Who’s he going with?”
“Angelina!” The other girl answers “It’s no surprise really, seeing how close they are from quidditch practices.”
“I suppose so. Do you think George would ask someone from the quidditch team too, then? Alicia perhaps?”
“Wouldn’t be a surprise if he does. They’re like honey and bees, especially lately. I think they might’ve been an item already.”
She chews on her lower lip, trying to maintain the calm composure she’s losing through her fingertips. She too has noticed the not so subtle closeness George and Alicia have these days. He’s spent more time taking care of the quidditch equipment with her, coming to the Great Hall together for meals, and doing his paperworks together. All the mentioned activities, aside from quidditch practice, were normally done with her, not Alicia. To say that she felt replaced would be an understatement.
But she knew deep down that she has no right to ever feel disappointed and hurt. George was never hers to begin with. The sense of belonging was only felt one sided, never reciprocated by the other end. She was the only one holding onto every little mundane thing they shared as if they were her life milestones.
“Neville asked me to be his date.” Ginny says, whispering excitedly as she squeezes in to sit next to her.
She flashes a smile, squeezing Ginny’s arm in a warm response, “That’s brilliant, Ginny!”
“Mhm,” Ginny nods eagerly “Have you found a decent date yet?”
“Yeah, I’m not so sure that I’ll be going.” She says with a soft laughter “Balls and dances are not my thing.”
“What are you talking about, balls and dances are every girls’ thing!”
She smiles, averting her eyes back to the pranksters who are still cracking their jokes.
Ginny’s right, balls and dances are every girls’ thing. A huge part of her was screaming and hoping that she could go to the ball with her charming prince, spending the night as they waltzed to some romantic song, being completely intoxicated with each other’s presence. But the thought feels like nothing but a mere dream now that she uses her head more than her heart. Exactly how long would she entertain herself with the blissful fake scenarios where her love was reciprocated? 
“It would be a fun night, don’t you think?” Ginny asks, still persuading her “Imagine how beautiful the Great Hall would be, the music, the food, everything! And we get to dress up! Out of these insipid robes for once.”
“I suppose.”
“What is making you so uninterested?” Ginny asks with raised brows “If you can’t find a bloke worthy enough, I can ask one of my brothers to escort you. I’m sure one of them would be delighted to be your date.”
“No, please don’t.” She says fast, afraid the younger Weasley would pursue her wild idea. With Fred escorting Angelina and Ron who seems to be so determined to ask one of the Beauxbatons, George would be the only brother left for Ginny to ask the favour and although it would’ve been nice to have George asked her for the ball, being asked merely out of pity would be the one embarrassment she could not live with.
“You’re right. None of my brothers are deserving enough to escort you.” Ginny says as she watches the twins fuse a firecracker “You know what, the ball is still weeks away. I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”
She remains quiet, only replying to the redhead girl with a small smile.
She knew that the possibility of her being escorted by George to the ball was slim to none. The distance that’s slowly growing between them is becoming a hurtful thorn that’s piercing deeper into her heart each day. From day one she knew that there would be no chance of him ever returning her feelings. Why should he when he could choose literally any other girl?
—-
Her mind was loud. The ball is approaching close and there’s still no news of George having a date just yet. It was as if she was stuck in a labyrinth, every step she took led to another door that just further fuelled her insecurity. Perhaps George has asked someone in private, unlike his twin brother who asked Angelina in public. George has always been the more reserved twin after all.
But wouldn’t he want to share the happy news if he indeed does have a date? She knew that their friendship had been strained for the past few months, but something as special as a Yule Ball date would surely be something he’d want to share with her. She’s been his best secret keeper after all.
Understanding that slumber wouldn’t be her friend tonight, she peels herself off of her blanket and walks outside of the room. Perhaps she could ask the house elves a tiny favour of hot milk and biscuits to help. Or maybe a late night stroll would make her tired enough to fall asleep. Either of which seems like a better idea than to ponder herself with these unanswered questions.
Walking down the staircase, she could hear faint noise of music from the Common Room. Laughter was heard louder as she descended closer. There were two people, a boy and a girl’s voice echoing through the walls. One’s voice she would recognise anywhere anytime.
“Alright, I think that’s enough practice for the night.” The boy says with slight pants “I think tomorrow I’ll ask- Hey, you.”
She was frozen on her spot. The sight she’s just witnessed would be the bane of her nightmares to follow. There they were, her hands resting casually on his shoulders, big happy grins plastered on their faces. The very position she wishes she could be with him. Close and intimate.
“George, Alicia,” She says softly, forcing a smile and fighting the tears welling up her eyes “I didn’t mean to interrupt, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not interrupting anything. We’re about to get to bed, too.” Alicia answers with a warm smile “Where are you heading?”
“Kitchen.” She says short “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh, can I join you?” George asks, a warm smile evident on his face “I could use a glass of milk too.”
She stares at George’s innocent eyes with defeat, thankful of the limited light showering them both so he wouldn’t see the disappointment and sadness she’s feeling. How could he stand there and still look as beautiful and charming as he always had when he’s just broken her heart into pieces?
“No, actually I’d rather you not, George.” She says softly, not being able to look at his face a second longer “I need some space and time alone with my thoughts.”
Without waiting for his response, she walks out of the Common Room in a haste. Her tears were flowing just when she reached the staircase, unable to hold them any longer. Her nightmare has happened. Every bad scenario she tried so hard to push out of her head has finally come true. 
George Weasley has a date for the Yule Ball.
—-
The following days have been hell. Hours spent detached to reality while nights would be filled with her silent cries. She has emptied her bottle of non-puffy potion to help ease her swollen eyes, but it was to no avail. Her sadness is bleeding out of her.
She’s tried her best to avoid George. Exchanging her seat in every class they shared and would leave before George could reach her. She doesn’t even take her meals on her usual spot at their table anymore. She reckons that her spot has been long occupied by another now that he’s got a new bird to entertain.
She knew that from the beginning she stood no chance to be with him. She knew that she was just another background girl in his bright and daring life, praying that with whatever miracle there is he would spare just a glance and wave her a smile. Yet with all this knowledge and understanding, why does it still hurt? Why does it still torment her everytime the memory of him and Alicia plays in her mind?
“Love, wait!” George calls, running and barely able to catch her as he pulls her hand “Blimey, do I have a stench or something? You’ve been avoiding me like I was the plague!”
“I’m busy, George.” She says, prying her hand off of him “Now if you’ll excuse me-”
“Not so fast.” He says, stopping her by placing a hand in front of her “I just need a minute of your time, please. It won’t be long. There’s something rather urgent I need to speak to you about.”
She wanted to flee from him. Run as fast as her legs could carry her and go back to her room, hide under her blanket and wait until the weeks passed. She’s demented enough, couldn’t he tell? What could he possibly want to talk to her now that he’s got Alicia? Couldn’t he just leave her be?
“Please,” George begs once more “I’m only asking for a minute of your time.”
Looking at his pleading eyes, she finally gave in and gave a slight nod.
He grins in victory, clapping his hand, “Right, so uh- Godric, I don’t know where to start.”
She stares at his eyes. A sense of nervousness was evident from his face. George rubs his palms to his trousers, trying to maintain his cool composure though it’s clear that he’s losing it. She wonders if these jolts were caused by his excitement for sharing the big news with her. A little bit overdue, sure, but it’s not like she’s given him the chance to tell her that he’s seeing Alicia.
“I have something to ask you.” He starts, a nervous smile decorating his face “It’s, uh, it’s about girls.”
She takes a sharp breath, “Right.”
“I, uh, I have a bit of trouble on said topic.” He continues, beating around the bushes to find the right words to say “You know how the Yule Ball is coming, right? And I, uh, there’s this girl that I wanted to ask to be my date. I know that time’s wearing thin and I should’ve asked her the first time the ball was announced but I just couldn’t muster the courage to ask her, you know? I don’t want to come as too strong or anything, she’s a rather special girl.”
She grips her robe tighter, trying to keep her emotions packed. She couldn’t break down in front of him, not when he looks like he’s flustered and in need of a friend to talk to.
“She’s a close friend of mine.” George says, smiling as he begins to describe her “She’s brilliant, to say the least. I just- I can’t find the words to describe her but take it from me, she’s the most brilliant girl there is.”
She says softly, forcing a smile, “You seem to be so fond of her.”
Fighting her tears, she wasn’t sure why George hadn't mentioned Alicia’s name once when she had already caught them red handed the other night. It wasn't exactly a secret for her anymore, so why not just say her name instead of describing how wonderful she is? Doesn’t he know that it’s hurting her?
“I am.” He nods, looking completely intoxicated with admiration “I’m head over heels for her.”
“What exactly is your problem with her then?” She says, sounding a little bit more rude than she expected to but she clearly couldn’t stand another second hearing him swooning over Alicia “You said you two are close.”
“I- Well,” George stutters, completely caught off guard from her irritated tone “I suppose, I wanted to ask for your opinion. If you were in her shoes, how would you like me to ask you for the ball?”
She lets out a scoff. Is this boy for real now? Asking how she would like him to ask her for the ball? Isn’t that just plain cruel?
“What do you want, George?” She asks with more annoyance in her tone “Why are you asking me this? I mean haven’t you been occupied with Alicia lately? Shouldn’t you ask for her opinion or approval instead?”
“I- Well, I have asked Alicia actually but she said I should ask you.”
“Oh, so you’re here because your plan with Alicia didn’t go well? Is that what this is?” She argues, anger and hurt clouding her mind “Is that really all that I am to you? A back up plan? Someone you go to when things aren’t going well with your bird?”
George raises an eyebrow, looking bewildered, “Love, what- I just- What are you talking about?”
“Look, George, I really don’t have time for this.” She says fast before letting herself get even more angry “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out with Alicia, but frankly speaking you have tons of other girls you can ask with so just pick one and be done with it.”
Before George could utter another word, she left him in a hurry. She takes big angry steps away from the redhead boy, praying that her leg could carry her as furthest as it could. The puppy pleading eyes of his would haunt her. She knew that she’s being an arse for spitting him right on the face where he clearly needs someone to talk to, but she couldn't let herself drown even deeper. She couldn’t let him drag her further to the pit of despair. He’s hurt her just enough.
—-
The dreadful night finally comes. In contrast to the happy and excited looks of her friends, she drank the glass of non-alcoholic drink with a frown. If it wasn’t for Ginny dragging her by the neck, she wouldn’t have stepped a foot to the Great Hall tonight.
Taking the empty seat beside her, Ron let out a huff of annoyance. His shoulders were dropped, hair dishevelled and face red in embarrassment. His date was nowhere to be seen, that is if he’s got one in the first place. The dress robe he’s wearing and the long face he’s showing is making it hard for her to tell.
“You having fun?”
Ron rolled his eyes, “The best night of my life.”
“Mine too.” She sighs “I just want to hex myself to death, you know?”
Taking a look at the room, her eyes stopped at the sight of George, talking casually with his date in the corner of the room. Things worked out in the end, she reckons. They’ve finally sorted their problem and he finally got Alicia as his date. She wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved that he’s finally got to go with her, the girl he so much praised about, or should she hate him even more for rubbing his happiness on her face.
“Where’s your date?”
She shrugs, “I don’t have one.”
“Bullshit.” Ron chuckles yet stops right away as he notices her seriousness “You haven’t got a date?”
Once again, she shrugs.
“But why don’t you? I thought you already had someone, that's why you rejected my brother.”
“Your brother?” She asks, raising an eyebrow “What are you talking about?”
“Well, George’s been saying that he’s going to ask you to be his date since the ball was announced, but a couple days ago he said he’s going with Alicia instead, so I figured you must’ve had a date already.” Ron confesses, face full of confusion “He even asked her to teach him the dance so he won’t make a fool of himself in front of you, you know.”
She closes her eyes as her brain tries to digest the new information. She facepalms herself, realising the grave mistake she’s made for giving in to the bad scenarios she over-thinks about. She should’ve let George finish his words that day. She should’ve waited for him a little longer. She should’ve given him the benefit of the doubt and let him explain himself. All these disastrous nights could’ve been avoided if she had been a little bit more patient with him.
“Merlin, I screwed up everything.” She whispers, turning to Ron “Do you think he’d forgive me? Do you think George would ever forgive me for being such an arse?”
Ron chuckles, “Are you kidding? My brother’s mental about you. You can rip his heart out and stomp it to the ground and he’d still kiss the dirt you stepped on.”
She smiles, cheek tainted in light blush.
“But please don’t tell him I told you that.” Ron said fast, realising the secret he’s spilled “He’ll have my head if he knew I told you about his crush.”
She chuckles and nods.
The night felt lighter with Ron to accompany her. That or the fact that she knew more of George’s feelings about her. Perhaps she’s placed too much attention to his surroundings to ever realise where his eyes are actually at. The girls fighting over his affection had blinded her from the fact that she was the only one he ever wanted to impress. She was the only one he wanted to be with.
“Evening, you two.” A voice greets, an unsure smile plastered on his face “Lovely ball, isn’t it?”
“Right, that’s my cue.” Ron says in a low volume, loud enough for her to hear him before standing up and leaving “She’s all yours, George.”
George squinted his eyes, eyeing his younger brother with a suspicious look but chose to say nothing. He turned to see her, smiling and taking the spot Ron left, “You look lovely tonight.”
“As do you.” She says with a smile “Much more handsome than usual.”
A hint of blush appears on his face. 
George chews on his lower lip, looking as if there’s something fighting its way out of his lips. The palm of his hands were getting clammier, his heart was beating at an alarmingly fast rate. He’s been trying to find the words to apologise to her from their misunderstanding yet now he seems to have lost every word he’s ever known. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t sure what he should be apologising for, but remembering her reaction the other day, he knew that he made a mistake and whatever it was he’s desperate to fix it.
“Do you want to dance?” She asks, breaking his internal argument to stop “I mean, if Alicia’s fine with that of course.”
He blinks, stuttering, “Of course, yeah, sure! She’s fine with it, she couldn’t care less.”
With a satisfied grin, George stood up and held his hand out. She gladly accepts it, letting him lead the way to the dance floor. The music has come to the calmer side now that people begin to leave the Great Hall. It’s beginning to be late after all.
She places her hands on his shoulders as he rests his on her waist. Both were looking visibly nervous, afraid that they would make the wrong move and step on the other’s foot. Neither would mind if such a thing happened, to be truthfully honest. The world could burn and crumble right on this very second and they wouldn’t even notice as they drown themselves in each other’s gazes.
“I, uh,” George stammers, shoulders slightly shaking from the nerve wrecking havoc inside him “I want to apologise for the other day. I don’t know what happened but I figured you’re right, I’ve kind of been too occupied with Alicia lately. I’m sorry for that.”
She shakes her head, “No, don’t be. I was being unreasonable and dumped you my frustration when you were innocent all along. I should be the one apologising, George. I’m really sorry.”
“What were you stressing about?” He asks softly “Mind sharing them with me?”
“It’s silly, really.”
“Nothing’s ever silly about you.” He cuts in, eyes still glued on her “If it’s bothering you that much then it must be something serious.”
She shows a small smile, contemplating if she should be blunt and speak her mind, “I’ve been feeling more insecure lately. I feel like I’m not good enough for someone, like I’m just someone easily disposed of and replaced with.”
“Someone?” He asks, eyes softening and looking guilty “Please don’t say that I’m the culprit.”
She remains quiet.
“Oh, Love.” George sighs, understanding her silence “I’m really sorry. I never meant for you to think that I’ve replaced you, I never intended to. You’re someone I could never replace, believe me. Nothing’s happening with Alicia and me, she was just being a friend, I promise.”
George continues with his long apologise yet she couldn’t process any of his words. Her eyes were locked on his lips, wondering how blissful it would be to kiss them. Her heart was beating fast, she could only pray that he wouldn’t hear its loud thumps. Her skin was hot, an unfamiliar tension building inside her.
“I like you.”
George was stunned. He looked at her with widened eyes. The confession caught him off guard, causing his brain to completely shut down.
“I like you, George Weasley.” She confesses once more, this time with a tone more firm and assured than before “And I’m really sorry that my feelings only caused us to fight. I just- I’ve seen the girls who've tried to approach you. I’ve seen how much prettier, smarter, and better they are than me and I just- I couldn’t help but to feel inferior than them.”
He remains quiet, listening to each of her words with full attention.
“You could pick any girl in this castle, George. You have a long list of admirers and I just-” She paused, smiling pitifully to herself “The thought of you ever reciprocating my feelings is just too good to be true.”
George’s hands moved to cupped her cheeks. He caresses her cheek gently, staring at her with a smile, “Can I kiss you?”
She nods lightly, showing a faint smile.
With a warm smile, George leans in. The kiss was gentle, as if he feared she would pull away anytime. His hands never left her cheeks, gently rubbing her skin as if she was the most precious thing he’s ever held. He’s holding her ever so tenderly, making her feel like she was the most delicate thing he’s ever laid fingers on.
“I’m sorry that you ever feel that way, Love.” George whispers as they pull away, his eyes never leaving hers “For what it’s worth, there’s never been anyone more important to me than you. You’re the only one I have eyes for and I’m sorry for not making it clear before, but if you’ll have me, I promise I’ll spend each day proving that you’re the one best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“You’re going to lose your admirers.” She says, smiling from his lovely confession.
“Fred can have them.” He says, rolling his eyes “I’m sure he’ll be more than delighted.”
She chuckles.
“So, is that a yes?”
She makes a thinking face, teasing the boy, “Maybe I could use one more kiss. To make myself sure and all, you know.”
“Just one?” George questions, chuckling “Here I am willing to kiss you all night.”
“Shut up and just kiss me already.”
1K notes · View notes
patyog · 8 months
Text
Congratulations.
Ex!George Weasley x She/Her Fem!Reader x Tom Riddle
Tumblr media
Part one where George breaks up with Reader and she, after taking the break very badly, embarks on a dangerous relationship with Tom
Hurt/Angst - Happyish ending
Masterlist Part 2 Part 3
TRIGGER WARNING: Strong themes are described, relationship break up, sadness, guilt, confrontation, heartbreak, insecurity, low self esteem, self hate, self injury, eating disorders, distancing, loneliness
Tumblr media
You were the definition of happiness, when he asked you, you did everything together, you've been friends since you were kids, always very close to the twins and being like a big sister to Ron and Ginny
You got used to spending the holidays on the borrow, so when your parents had to move across the country for their work, Molly adopted you as one of the Weasley children
That summer you and George spent most of your time together, and you became closer to him, you talked about all kinds of topics, and he even opened up to you that he's never had a girlfriend before, you've never had a boyfriend either, so by the time winter came no one was surprised when you two finally got together
And just like that, you spent the next 3 years of your life, now you were in your 6th year at Hogwarts, and you had a very comfortable routine, you helped George and Fred with their exams, they found ways to earn detention, You and George would go to Hogsmeade on weekends and then spend the rest of the day in one of your bedrooms, you and Ginny would go shopping once or twice a month to catch up on all the gossip going on and give her advice, every time there were school holidays you went to the Burrow, helped Molly cook, talked for hours with Arthur about Muggle things, helped Fred and George to make jokes, and played quidich with Ron and Harry, you could say that your life was extraordinary.
You and George had talked before about your future, how the twins wanted to open the store, how you would help them and live in the flat above the store, but he never mentioned anything about getting married or having children, anyway, you were young and you weren't thinking about that topic.
But everything collapsed at your feet that night, you had been waiting for him on the quiddish field for hours, until you finally understood that he was not going, you were furious, how could he have forgotten? No, it must be something else, like, he could be in detention, yes, that must be it, so you ran as fast as you could to the classroom, but he wasn't there, had he really stood you up?
You walked to your common room, and then you went up the stairs to your bedroom, you crawled to your bed and tried to sleep, but just as you were about to fall asleep, someone knocked on the door.
"Come in!" you said annoyed, the door opened and George came in
"George? I waited for you hours in the field, where were you? We were supposed to meet there, did you forget?"
He didn't say anything, he just stood in front of your bed with his hands in his pockets and looking at the ground
"we have to talk" he said
"what's going on, are you okay?"
"this is not working"
"what do you mean?"
"Us. This. It just doesn't work anymore." he says suddenly, looking at you for the first time since he walked into your room.
"You're breaking up with me?" He didn't answer, he just lowered his head again.
"What did I do? Are you mad at me? Are you kidding me, George?"
"it was a bet"
"What?"
"IT WAS A BET, OK, FRED BET ME THAT I WOULDN'T DARE ASK YOU OUT"
you didn't say anything
"I never thought you'd say yes, and I didn't want to tell you when things got real"
Again you didn't say anything, you didn't even move, you couldn't, a long minute passed until he spoke again
"sorry"
and with that he was gone, you couldn't believe what he just said, were you a joke all along? Did he really mean nothing of what he said? Were the last 3 years just a cruel joke of the twins? Did anyone else know? Did Ginny know?
That night you didn't sleep at all, in fact you stay in that same position without moving, waiting, wishing, praying, that he would come back but he didn't come to you, no one did, when the first rays of sun came out, and the other students left to their classes you finally broke down, crying like you've never done before, you fell to the floor feeling the pain invade you, you crawled to your wardrobe and took the dress you wore to the dance with George, and you started pulling it until it ripped, tearing it apart , you couldn't stop screaming and crying, almost without realizing you stood up and began to destroy everything that reminded you of him.
You were about to snap the photo in your mirror when you stopped at your reflection and suddenly everything clicked.
"You are so pathetic"
"Look at you, did you really think someone like him could love someone like you?"
"Why are you surprised?"
"you're disgusting"
"look at you, fat, ugly, badly dressed"
"you're like a homeless"
"you look terrible"
"I hate you"
"you don't deserve anything"
"you are a terrible person"
"You're going to die alone"
"And no one will ever love you"
After those last words you fell to the ground and fainted.
"Sometimes I find myself longing for the comfort I can only imagine"
From that day on you decided to move on with your life, you didn't feel you had the right to be angry, or even upset, it was as if he had done you a favor and you had no way to pay him back.
Your routine became quite predictable, you woke up early in the day, you went to your classes, and spent every free minute in your bedroom or in the library, you didn't even go to the great hall to eat, you only ate the snacks that the elves would brought to the common room, and you would skip all the meals you could.
Maybe if you had gone to the great hall, you would have seen the reason George dumped you, you would have seen him hang out with Angelina, you would have seen him trying to get her attention, and you would have seen him get rejected.
You didn't want to see him, you didn't want to remember the way he left you, and this became a race to avoid him, not only him, but all his family and friends, the only problem is that you had no one left.
Tumblr media
263 notes · View notes
Text
earlessly bloody. [g.w. x reader]
Tumblr media
Summary: The war took away loved ones, but he was resolute.
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: BRIEF brief BRIEF mentions of suicidal thoughts.
* * *
[GIF not by me]
Tumblr media
11:23 pm.
Nights were sleepless, cold, and threatening.
The town outside Ottery St. Catchpole had fallen right into the hands of the Dark Lord; burning it down to mere cinders– reduced to nothing but a whisper of what was once bustling with magical life.
Your nightmares had progressively gotten worse– the voices of those who had fallen were wisping around your head, crying out to you to spare them. You could feel their dead touch slowly creeping its way up your leg as if they were trying to drag you down with them to the abyss. 
Muggles, Wizards, Squibs, young, and old. They all fell to the hands of Lord Voldemort.
The face of a noseless man whose withered hand beckoned you, lulling you into his grasp, “Y/N, won’t you join me?”
Slowly, he was getting closer.
And closer.
And closer.
Then,
A ghoulish, hoarse voice, “Kill the spare.”
“Avada Kedavra!” 
A bright bile green.
Then, you jolted awake violently. Tears were trickling down. Your breathing hastened shallowly, fighting for air as your heart pounded, threatening to jump out. Everything was a blurry mess, though. Your vision seemed as though you were looking through a shattered muggle camera lens. Everything seemed disfigured as if the world was rotating at a hundred kilometres per second. 
Before you realised it, furniture was being thrashed around the room. Mirrors had shattered into smithereens. Tables were upturned. Windows were wide open. The wind howled into your ear, sending shivers down the sweaty, sticky skin of your spine; but something else was trying to call out to you. It seemed as though it were trying to pull you back into conscience. Trying to snap out of your magical nightmares.
“Y/N?” the muffled voice was getting progressively louder and louder.
“Y/N!”
Your eyes had finally focused. You were in the present, safe and sound. 
There was no Dark Lord grabbing you, no voices trying to drag you down with them. 
A large, warm, yet rough hand had combed through your hair, “You’re safe now, my love. It’s okay, you’re okay. Everything is okay.”
George.
Your strands fluttered back into place, though some had stuck to the sides of your sweaty temples. Your rugged breathing had slowly stabilised. George’s hand lifted your chin, beckoning your eyes to meet. A warm kiss was placed on the top of your head.
His hazel eyes were dark and fatigued with eyebags laying low underneath. They were stained by the loom of war, but still, they looked lovingly at you, searching your eyes for any sign of distress.  How you’d kill to rid him of all his worries, and he the same.
Molly had rushed into the room with Arthur filing behind. They both had their wands in hand, ready to cast protegos and stupefies, but what they found was the same scene for the last Merlin knows how many nights.
“Oh, Y/N!” Molly cried out with a shuddered breath. 
She rushed over to you, pulled you away, and enveloped you in her warm, motherly embrace.
You couldn’t help but fall right into it.
“When will it end?” You cried as your breathing hitched.
How you wish it could all come to an end. Every now and then, you wondered if by just pointing your wand at yourself– no. You mustn’t. Never. 
Never, ever, ever.
Molly gingerly patted your back as your face deepened into the crook of her neck, staining her sweater with tears, “I know, dear, I know.”
George absentmindedly filled his father in on the details whilst Arthur restored the damaged furniture. He kept his eyes on you, pondering when to drop the bomb. He knew, however, that now was not the time, with you having just recovered from a panic attack and all. He hated seeing you like this, knowing the war had affected you so much even in your sleep. If only…
If only he could keep you safe, forever. And ever.
And ever, and ever.
And ever.
And oh, how he wished he could just take you by the hand, and with a crack, apparate the two of you where the Dark Lord was the least of your worries. A place where he could take you on the back of his broom, chasing sunsets, sunrises, and many more to come.
However, he knew, deep down, for as long as the Dark Lord was alive, your days together were numbered.
Your sunsets and sunrises were indefinite.
* * *
2:57 am.
George had cast a quick Muffliato in the living room. His eyebrows were knit together, face reddening by the second as he pulled at his scalp, ripping out a few ginger strands in the process.
“No! I’m not leaving her! You know how vulnerable she is!” He roared out, pacing the living room back and forth.
Ron, who had arrived half an hour prior, turned to Hermione with a ‘Please help’ look on his face.
Getting the memo, Hermione turned back and tried to place a reassuring hand on George’s shoulder but was quickly shoved back rudely.
With a huff, she straightened her woollen coat, “George," she started, "I understand that Y/N isn’t stable at the moment, but we have to escort Harry to Grimmauld Place! It’s not safe for him at the Dursleys anymore!” her voice laced desperately with reason. Surely he would understand?
Then, for a brief moment, he saw an image of him and Fred carrying Harry in the Gryffindor common room proudly with the golden egg in hand. Harry was one of his closest friends, if not his younger brother. He had helped fund Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, after all. He owed that debt to him. For the rest of his life.
...
But what about you?
The world, or you? You, or the world?
Nevertheless, he knew if he helped save the world, you’d be finally safe again. You were his world. 
No more dreams plagued by Vile Voldie, no more nightmares; just you and him. 
Safe and sound.
Resolute, he finally grabbed his wand that had been flung frustratedly to the corner of the room, and with a swoop of robes, he was in the Floo.
“Well? What are you two waiting for? We have the world to save!”
* * *
3:46 am.
A Patronus had been sent out to you, and before you knew it, you were up, dressed and Floo’d to Grimmauld Place.
The sight in front of you.
Oh, Merlin.
Please, no.
Why?
Why him?
Merlin, why?
Why? Why?
Why?
WHY?
Then, your tears became an ocean.
Terrible. It was all terrible.
If only he hadn’t. If only he were a little more selfish. Oh, Merlin’s beard, it all came crashing down on him. He was an ear lighter. There was a deep, deep, gash in the side of his face.
His clothes were covered in cold, dark, dried crimson. Sparks of black seemed to crackle where his ear would have been.
You howled out, “George!” 
Arthur, Bill, Fleur, and everyone else who had helped in escorting Harry, stood around the couch that nestled the maimed George, almost like a protective barrier.
Your legs barely managed to pick themselves up as you bolted over to him, dropping your wand and satchel. Fred was right beside him, head resting on his abdomen as he grasped his cold hand. Molly’s wand illuminated a warm sort of yellow, trying to ease him of the pain that writhed in the side of his face, as if a bunch of maggots were crawling around, nestling away into the deepest depths of his cheek.
“Dark Magic.” Harry, who had been unscathed save for a few scratches, muttered.
Of all the sacrifices in the world to protect the Boy Who Lived, it just had to be him. You couldn't blame Harry, though. Without him, the Wizarding world would've been burned to ashes by now.
You could barely make out your words in between ugly, mournful sobs, “Oh, my love…”
Hands wrapped gently around his head, you stared at him wondering where you went wrong. What did you do in your past life to deserve such karma? It should’ve been you instead who took that stupid sectumsempra. It should’ve been you, but you had only found out about George joining to escort Harry moments ago after being woken up by a brilliant stag. 
Then, his eyes slowly fluttered open. They were drained of life, hazel and oh so dismally dull. But still, they widened like glass marbles, glistening with tears and red-rimmed from fatigue.
“Y/N? Why’re you–?”
You placed a hand over his mouth, relief lacing your voice as you could only speak a few broken sentences before you were a mess again, “Shh… Rest, my little spark.” 
Then, his chapped, cold lips kissed your palm and you were back in fifth year again.
Waltzing 'round the empty corridors to a slow Muggle tune with his arms around your waist, kissing the palm of the hand that he had lifted up. Then, he'd lift you up, giggling like little children.
What a time to be alive, you reminisced, but was brought back to the present by his silky sweet voice.
“It’s alright, love. I feel saint-like– holey.” You snorted, and so did Fred, whose head had shot up the moment he knew his brother was back, “Holey?”
Fred added, “Out of all the ear-related jokes in this world and you choose ‘holey’?”
The room erupted into raucous, heart-warming laughter; and for a moment– there was no Dark Lord hot on Harry’s trail, or a pack of Death Eaters wreaking havoc. It was just friends and family.
And George, albeit earless and bloody.
* * *
a/n: did anyone else get the wee hamilton reference?
140 notes · View notes
georgie-weasley · 10 months
Text
Birthdays G.W. x GN!Reader
Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of blood, George losing his ear, it's super sad
Word Count: 3.2k
Pairing: George Weasley x GN!Reader
Summary: After Fred's death, George never wanted to celebrate his birthday. This year he's turning 25 and despite his request, you want to do something special so you track down all the pictures you took from your Hogwarts years
A/N: I know it's been a little bit since I wrote anything and I just want to say I really appreciate all the love and support from everyone
Masterlist Taglist
Tumblr media
Birthdays were supposed to be a fun and special day. They were supposed to be a day all about you and spending the day how you wanted. Usually it was spent with friends and family who loved you as they celebrated you getting older. There was typically cake and presents and singing that stupid song. Ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, birthdays have taken a sadder turn for George Weasley.
April 1st used to be the best day of the year in George’s eyes. Not only was it a day dedicated to jokes and pranks, but it was also the day he and his best friend got to celebrate another year of growing up but never maturing. In their younger years, they spent their birthday doing what they loved, causing mischief. One year they spent the whole day squawking like a bird at every hour; it was one of the more harmless years. On their first birthday after owning the joke shop, everything was a disaster. Well, it was for any poor soul that entered the shop with their guard down. Patrons left with bubblegum pink hair, duck bills for noses, temporarily in love with obscure objects, and even some believed they were invisible when they were in fact very visible.
George’s first birthday after Fred died was one of the worst days of his life, second to only the day he lost his brother. The family walked on eggshells and made the mistake of trying to celebrate. When his mother brought out the cake after dinner, he stormed out of the room before she could even set the homemade dessert on the table. You followed him all the way up to the roof, the place he always went to be alone or away from everyone but you. He sat there crying and you held him, rubbing his back but saying nothing; there was nothing you could say to ease his pain.
“I never want to celebrate my birthday ever again Y/N. I don’t want any cakes or presents or stupid songs. I don’t want anyone to even mention it.” He choked out as he sobbed into his hands.
“Your mom was just trying to do something nice. I don’t think she knew it would hurt this much.” 
“I know but I don’t want anything. Promise me the end of the birthdays starts here.”
You didn’t want to promise but you could see how much he needed this. “I promise.” 
You had been dating George since your Hogwarts years and you saw the pain everyone went through in the past year. You also saw how differently everyone reacted to the grief. Molly was liable to burst into tears every few minutes while Arthur threw himself into his tinkering with muggle items. Bill and Charlie spent a lot more time at home, doing things for their parents just to try and give them a break. Ron started helping George at the joke shop and he threw himself into the work there; he was a lot like his father much to his horror. Ginny spent a lot of time with George. She wasn’t supposed to have favorite brothers but Fred and George easily were her favorites. As for Percy, he still blamed himself for the death of his brother and spent most of his time hating himself. George didn’t know what to do. Everything he ever did, Fred was right there with him and he didn’t know how to function without his other half.
George no longer lived above the joke shop and instead he lived in a small apartment with you. The mirrors were covered with paper and all reflective surfaces were hidden as best as you could. He couldn’t stand to see himself because all he could see was Fred.
---
Since then, George had gotten his way and he hadn’t had a birthday celebration for the past few years. The only time it was even mentioned was when someone asked how old he was. Other than that, no one spoke about April 1st. This year George was turning 25 and after discussing with Molly many times, you decided not to ignore his birthday this time.
You were terrified that he would be upset that you went against his wishes but 25 was quite a big deal. He was officially going to be in his mid 20s and that deserved a celebration. George deserved a day where the people that loved him showed him how much he meant to them. Ginny, who had also been in on your plans, suggested for this first year of breaking the no birthday promise it was just you who celebrated. If the whole family suddenly ignored George’s wishes, he would probably feel betrayed. Not to mention out of everyone, he was more likely to be alright with his partner doing something special for him.
You spent all of February trying to think of something small enough to make sure he wouldn’t be upset but something big and special enough to warrant breaking this promise. Unlike the first few birthdays you celebrated with him as a couple, candy wouldn’t cut it this time. Soon February passed and before you knew it, it was the middle of March and you only had a couple weeks to go. You had to think of something fast
The answer came to you late at night one day in March. While George had been working late at the shop, you spent a lot of time stress cleaning the apartment and going through boxes. Wrapped up in old sweaters that didn’t fit anymore was your camera. It had been a gift to your parents your first year of Hogwarts and while you were no professional photographer, you spent all of your years in school taking pictures.
Ginny once mentioned to you a gift Hagrid had given Harry his first year. Hagrid spent months contacting anyone that knew James and Lily to try and get photos to make a photo album for Harry. Ginny said he still had it and has been adding to it; he added pictures of the people that meant a lot to him and especially pictures of things he wished his parents had been around to see. Almost all of the pictures you had taken since you were 11 included Fred and George. That was what you would give George.
When George came home that night, it was horrible trying not to tell him but you knew if he knew, he would tell you not to bother. Despite your efforts, he knew right away something was up. As he climbed into bed he took one look at your face and frowned. “What are you so worried about?” Curse him for being so observant.
“Nothing. I just hope you're not overworking yourself.” Before he could question you further, you kissed his cheek and rolled over, shutting off the light.
---
That morning as soon as he left for work, you began searching through more and more boxes of your things. Some pictures were hung up when you lived above the store but since moving, George didn’t want many pictures hung up at all. Tucked away in the closet was a small box with ‘pictures’ written on the side. “Bingo.”
As soon as you opened the box you had tears in your eyes. Right on top was a picture you had taken of the boys the day they bought the building. It was pretty worn down and needed quite a bit of work but Fred and George stood in front of the door, arms thrown around each other with wide smiles. As the picture moved, Fred and George turned to look over their shoulder at the building and gave each other a high five.
The next photo was much older and if you had to guess, Fred and George were only 12 or 13 in this picture. They were on the Quidditch Pitch, soaking wet and covered in mud but they couldn’t be happier. The boys had just tried out for the beater positions on the Gryffindor team and despite slipping and falling many times, they made the team. In the picture after only a second of smiling, Fred hip checked George and sent him flying into a mud puddle, landing right on his butt. Fred laughed until George kicked him on the back of the knee and made him fall face first into the mud next to him. The picture didn’t catch it but you remember after Fred got to his knees, the twins started wrestling and it took three people to separate them. Neither was mad at the other but more so they couldn’t stand to be outdone by their twin.
Many pictures were similar to those. One was taken of the twins while in detention with you. How you snuck the camera into the dungeons you couldn’t remember but the picture of Fred pretending to be Snape while George laughed and the real Snape rounded the corner was priceless. Another was taken when poor Ron had first started Hogwarts. You told the first year you simply wanted a photo of him and George to send home to his mother when in reality, Fred was behind him holding a fake spider. The picture captured the terror on Ron’s face as the toy came into his field of view while Fred and George rolled on the floor laughing.
Perhaps one of your favorites was taken during the Yule Ball. Katie Bell managed to take a picture of you and George slow dancing while Fred and Lee Jordan tried to do the worm in the background. Neither of them were very good and Fred wormed his way under Malfoy’s legs and sent the blonde crashing to the floor.
You had even a few pictures of the whole family. At Bill and Fleur’s wedding before the Death Eaters came, you gathered the whole Weasley clan and shoved everyone together to take a picture. Harry, disguised as a random Weasley cousin, and Hermione were included. The picture captured George coaxing you into frame with him as Remus took the camera from you. You squeezed in between Fred and George as your boys wrapped their arms around you.
There were many others, some far more normal than others but most of them George had never seen. After taking them, the pictures made their way into your trunk and never came out until after you had gone home. Besides, George always claimed he would never need to see them as he and Fred would continue to make more memories as they aged.
The last picture in the box was of them was the night George lost his ear. Fred had never been the serious type but seeing his twin brother lying on the couch drenched in his own blood changed something. All of you, but mostly Fred, realized no one was invincible. Fred pulled you aside and asked you to take a picture of them as soon as George was able to sit up and didn’t look too beat up. It was a moment you would never forget.
“I just need a picture of us Y/N. Seeing George there on the couch like that… I need something of us. This is a war and there’s no guarantee that both of us will make it. If that happens and he dies,” Fred rubbed his eyes with his sleeve and took a deep breath, “I need some reminder of him and I together in case.”
You grabbed his hand and gave it a small squeeze. “Of course Freddie.”
An hour later it was just the three of you awake and George was feeling well enough to sit up and drink some water. Fred sat next to him on the couch and glanced over at you. “George, I want to take a picture.”
“Now? I’m still a little crusty and my bandage needs to be changed.” George sat the glass of water on the ground and carefully turned his head to look at his twin. “Maybe we can wait until tomorrow so I can clean up a bit?”
Fred shook his head and beckoned you over. “No way. I don’t want to wait for this one. Please?”
With a confused glance at you, George shrugged and wrapped his arm around Fred’s shoulders. “Make sure you get my good side.” He said with a small laugh as he turned to show off his one remaining ear.
The boys smiled for the photo but Fred looked like he was holding back tears. You took a second one and held back your own tears as Fred pulled George in for a hug. “Love ya Georgie.”
“Love you too Freddie.”
Over the next couple of weeks you spent any time George was in the shop working on his present. You spent countless hours arranging the pictures into the photo album and adding little notes next to each one. You tried your best to remember the year it was taken so the book was in some sort of order.
Along with the photos, you went through your old notebooks and various other scraps of paper that you had saved. On so many of them the twins had written notes in the margins. On one note page, the boys were having a written conversation about their plans for a store. They had no reason to write it on your paper except for the fact that they felt like it. While in school, it used to bother you when they would mess around and write notes or doodle on your papers but now, you were beyond grateful for these dumb little messages.
You took the notebook page and added it to the book next to the picture of the boys in front of their shop. On the next you stuck in the page with the rather horrible self portrait Fred had drawn.
There were more than a few times you had to catch your falling tears so they wouldn’t ruin the pictures but finally after weeks, it was done.
---
On the morning of his birthday, George laid in bed well past the normal time he usually woke up. Ron had been the only one working at the store on George’s birthday for the past few years. At first George refused but as more and more people talked about April Fool’s Day, he relented and let Ron take over. When George finally emerged from the bedroom, he went straight to the couch and sat next to you. He didn’t say anything for a while until he finally turned to look at you. “What’s for breakfast?”
“I can make some eggs.” You gave him a quick peck on the lips before you went to the kitchen, preparing to make his breakfast.
On the coffee table you left the photo album which you had wrapped and added a small tag with his name on it. “Y/N? What is this?” He stared at the box as if he was expecting it to come alive and bite him.
“It’s just a little something for you. Why don’t you open it?”
George sighed and grabbed the box, moving into the kitchen with you. “I thought I said I didn’t want birthdays anymore. What happened to that promise?” At first you thought maybe he was hurt by your action but he just looked drained.
You set the uncracked eggs on the counter and put your hand over his. “I know you did but you’re 25 and I think you’ll like this one.” When he didn’t move to open the gift, you crossed your arms over your chest. “George, humor me just this time. If you hate it and still want nothing to do with birthdays then this will be the last mention of it, I swear.”
Satisfied with your terms, George carefully tore off the paper and opened the box. “You broke my promise to get me a book?” The cover of the album was just a simple brown leather with nothing to indicate what was on the inside.
“Open the book.”
Following your instructions, George flipped open to the first page and froze. He stared at the picture while 11-year-old Fred and George smiled up at him. George didn’t move for a long time and just when you were starting to get worried, he flipped to the next page. He watched that one for a while too before he moved on to the next. He did this until he got to the last picture. He watched as Fred in the picture hugged him and he read the words written below the picture as Fred mouthed them. ‘Love ya Georgie.’
Without a word George moved next to you and wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest, burying his head in your shoulder. George held you tight as sobs tore through him. “I miss him so much. I wish he was here.”
“I do too.” You rubbed his back as he continued to cry. Once his sobs finally turned into sniffles, you slowly moved his head off of your shoulder so you could look him in the eyes. “George, why don’t you want to celebrate your birthdays?”
He sighed and used his sleeve to wipe his eyes, just like Fred always did. “It feels wrong to do anything without him, especially this.” George wasn’t sure how to articulate what he was feeling for years until this moment. “We used to do everything together and I don’t know how to do anything without him.”
“Oh George.” You pulled him in for another hug, running your fingers through his hair. “Fred wouldn’t want this. He would want you to be happy and love your life and cause enough mischief for the both of you. He would want you to celebrate your birthday, not pretend it doesn’t happen.”
“I know but why does it all feel so wrong?”
“Because he’s not where you can see him. He’s here and he’s with you every day in everything you do but you can’t see him. You can’t hear his laugh and it’s horrible but George, he is here. I see him in your smile and I hear him in your jokes and not just because you’re identical. I know it’s hard but I promise you, he would want you to be happy. It’s ok to try the things you did together without him.” This time George pulled his own head away so he could look at you as you brushed the hair out of his eyes and kissed his cheek.
“I’ll try.” That was all you could ever ask of him. “Thank you for the book and for caring enough to break your promise. I love you.”
“I love you too George.” He kissed you softly and as you pulled away, you smiled. “Is it too early to invite the whole family over to celebrate?”
George smiled and nodded. “A bit. Let’s just get through this year and then we can talk about bringing everyone else.”
It would be a few years until George was ready to celebrate his birthday with everyone else again but when his mom brought out the cake and everyone sang that stupid song, he could have sworn Fred was right there with him.
Taglist
@100gaysnails @george-weasleys-girl @weasleybuns @s1aaaaayyyyyyyt @asuperconfusedgirl @jsjcue
278 notes · View notes
easterbonnet · 6 months
Text
A Necessary Confession - G.W / F.W
CW: grief, talking about Fred's death, sad, mourning etc
◤━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◥
George,
I've been sat at my desk for what must've been hours trying to start this letter, the sun has set now so I've lit a candle...
I'm sorry George, for a few things, I'm sorry for leaving so quickly after the battle, I'm sorry for not visiting, I'm sorry for what happened, I'm sorry for leaving you alone to deal with the shop. I just couldn't do it, I still can't and I don't want to imagine the pain you must feel. It's unbearable for me and, well, it must be 10 times of that for you.
I can still see his smile. Every night. Every time I close my eyes. All day. Everyday. I can hear his laugh too, but at this point I don't know if it was really how he sounded or just something I've made up. You know, last week I was taking a walk in the village at night and I walked past the old pub, I heard this man with a jug of beer in his hand, he was telling this joke. The first thought I had was 'I need to tell Fred this, he's gonna love it!' but midway I realised... I sat down on a bench nearby and I said the joke out loud, so if he was listening he could hear. Just as I'd finished, a little robin came flying down and sat on the backrest of the bench, it hopped over to me, I said hello and told the joke again... he had a red little tummy. I think it was him. I know how it sounds but it can't have been a coincidence.
The truth is George, I'd love to come and see you, to talk to you properly, but I can't, as different as you are were, you remind me of him too much. You know... after it happened, after I left, after I ran away, I glanced back over my shoulder and I saw you, I saw you stood there, and a small but momentarily convincing part of me thought that it was him, that he was just messing about. I won't do it again. Seeing you is like seeing him again. I can't escape it.
I just want to hear his laugh again, see his smile, feel his warmth, any of it. Gosh. I'm sorry for the smudged ink and crinkled parchment but I can't hold back the tears. I try to distract myself usually, but I couldn't just continue that way. I didn't want you or your family to think I didn't care, because I really do. And as much as I may have been avoiding you in some way, a selfish part of me wants to see you right now, because your smile, your laugh, your eyes, your voice... whilst not the same, it's too similar to his to ignore.
I always thought I was the lonely one, before I met you both of course, but now, now he's by himself isn't he? Who has he got now? I need him, George. I can't bring myself to look at the pictures or even touch the clothes he left at mine, they're exactly as they were.
I don't even know what the point of this letter is, I just need to get it down, I'm not sure I'll even send it... How is everyone? Silly question I know. I can't imagine how Molly is taking it, you know my heart is with your family, it always will be. It all feels unreal, doesn't it? And in someway, me writing this letter... it kind of seals his fate, like before I couldn't ignore it exactly but now it's definite, I'll never see him again.
Look, I understand if you don't want to reply, but if it's okay with you, let me know, I think, I think I'll drop by the burrow, give me a few weeks, I uh need to get used to the idea again, but it would be nice to see everyone, well you know what I mean. I suppose I've been holding out on all of this as well, because I wanted the last memory I have of it all to be with him in it... Us sat scrunched up on the settee, a blanket Molly knitted for his birthday over us, the smell of her cooking, Mr Weasley chatting with Ron in the background, and Fred teasing his mother between our conversation. He really was the light in my life, and I dare say it's a lot duller and bleak without him.
Take care of yourself George, please
Y/n
◣━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◢
75 notes · View notes
vilentia · 1 year
Text
Electric Love
George Weasley x reader
Tumblr media
George Weasley was someone who could light up a room with his infectious energy and sense of humor. From the moment you met him at Hogwarts, you were captivated by his vibrant personality and carefree spirit. He was always up for a good time, and his natural charisma drew people to him like a magnet.
Despite his outgoing nature, George had a kind heart and a genuine concern for those around him. He was quick to make friends and even quicker to make them laugh. As you got to know him better, you found yourself drawn to his lively personality and the way he made you feel.
At first, your relationship with George was purely platonic. You enjoyed spending time with him, and the two of you had a lot in common. But as you spent more time together, you began to see him in a new light. You noticed the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the way his smile lit up his face, and the way he made you feel like the most important person in the room.
As your feelings for him deepened, you began to wonder if he felt the same way. You started to look for signs that he might feel the same way, but nothing was ever clear. It wasn't until a chance encounter one day that George finally revealed his true feelings, and you were overjoyed to find out that he felt the same way.
The moment George confessed his feelings for you, everything changed. The dynamic between the two of you shifted from friendly to romantic, and it was like a spark had been ignited. You began dating, and it felt like a whirlwind romance that you never wanted to end.
Being with George was an experience like no other. His presence filled you with a sense of excitement and energy that you had never felt before. Every time he walked into the room, it was like the air was charged with electricity. You were constantly on the edge of your seat, waiting to see what he would do or say next.
You loved the way George made you feel alive, and he was always pushing you to try new things and take risks. With him by your side, you felt like you could conquer the world. His humor and light-heartedness were infectious, and you found yourself laughing more than ever before.
As your relationship progressed, you began to discover new layers to George's personality. You found out that he was incredibly caring and compassionate, always willing to lend a helping hand to those in need. He had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the world, and you cherished every moment you spent with him.
For you, being with George was like being caught in a whirlwind of passion and excitement. You never knew what each day would bring, but you were eager to find out. Every moment you spent together felt like pure magic, and you knew that you had found something special in each other. Your love for George was electric, and you felt like the luckiest person in the world to have him by your side.
One night, you and George collapsed into bed, exhausted but content. As you lay there, wrapped up in each other's arms, you felt a sense of peace and happiness wash over you.
Just as you were starting to drift off to sleep, George looked deep into your eyes, and the intensity of his gaze made your heart skip a beat. He whispered those three little words that you had been dying to hear: "I love you."
It was like the whole world stopped for a moment as you realized just how much you loved him too. You looked into his eyes, and you could see the depth of his feelings for you reflected back. You knew in that moment that he was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you whispered back, "I love you too, George." You wrapped your arms around him tighter, feeling like you never wanted to let go. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated love, and you knew that it was something you would never forget.
From that moment on, your love only grew stronger. You spent all your time together, exploring the world around you and creating memories that would last a lifetime. And no matter where life took you, you knew that your love would always be there, shining bright like an electric spark.
514 notes · View notes
l0standn0tf0und · 4 months
Text
more of my fav works with George Weasley
first part
third part
fourth part
fifth part
♡ = smut, 18+ only
Tumblr media
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
612 notes · View notes
apparentlytheproblem · 11 months
Note
A enemies to Friends to lovers with george weasley 😭💖?
s a f e a r m s
fandom- Harry Potter
pairing(s)- george weasley
a/n: tysmm for requesting agaainn, im sorry this took some time, i wasnt sure how to lead with this but i hope you're happy with how this turned out :)
p.s i love you and this literally has me giggling and smiling
requested- yes
warnings- none i hope
Tumblr media
george weasley, the king with all his pride which no one could strip from him, all the cockiness no one could touch, the one so high from all, that no one would play against his will.
then why oh why was everything he had built for himself, his charm, his walls, his cool, all fumbling and crumbling beneath him when you arrived?
why did his heart flutter? or why did heat rise to his cheeks and why did he feel so weak to a pretty smile? you had every power over him and he despised you for it. he despised himself on how easily you could walk all over him and he'd say thank you. he could'nt fathom why he was so desperate for your attention even if it was for a mere second.
walking around the hallways in all his glory he'd immediatley caught you making her way. it was peak rush hour, everyone was squirming their way from one class to another and his girl had seemed to lost her footing
George sweeped in catching her from having a meet with the floor. her arms were hugging him. georgie took a second for him to teach himslef how to breathe again.
"the words are you're welcome" supplied george when your mouth lied open. george weasley had his arms swung around your waist having you pressed to his chest.
georgie didnt want to let go. he wanted to keep you pressed to him, his hands were everyone could see. he wanted to hold on forever and not let go.
"are you planning on letting go georgie?"
fuck. george was officially pudding after he heard georgie roll out of your mouth, he was fullfilled.
"so you can go and fall all over again? let them finish scavengering the halls or you'll become squash." how he managed to sound so confident and steady he didnt know?
maybe it had something to do with rodger holmes on the other side of the corridor, his face filled with jealousy. it gave georgie a kick. the girl he's been pinning for in georgie's arms, pressed against him whispering into eachother's ears. Holmes did not need to know what as long as he could see she was in her weasley's arms. it helped him establish his dominance. you were to be his even if you didnt know it yet, even if you'd thought him to be the cold hearted prankster, and rodger better sit the hell down.
968 notes · View notes
writersblockedx · 1 year
Text
To Share This Grief
Tumblr media
Pairing - George Weasley x Fem!Reader Summary - After Fred's death leaves his girlfriend and his twin mourning, they seek comfort in one another. Warnings - Sad. Mentions of death and violence, drinking, very small implication of sex Words - 3.2K
Masterlist 
The war had taken several witches and wizards. It had taken mothers, fathers, children, teachers, siblings. It had taken partners. Y/n was just one of many who was left behind, left trying to stitch the black hole which Fred had once filled. Of course, she couldn't be so picky about it. She was one in many who had lost their lovers and were collectively trying to figure out how they were going to go on without them.
Everyone had lost someone. It just so happened Y/n and George had lost their person. And their person happened to be the same.
Many celebrated the death of Voldemort, choosing to drink and dance their way through the grievance which burdened the magic community.  Others found the music and the laughter only tormented their grief. Y/n was one of them. George, however, he wasn't so sure how he was meant to deal with the death of his twin. To him, there was just a shadow. No amount of drink or music was going to change that; he'd always feel the looming empty space next to him.
The funeral had brought many of them together. The whole family of Weasleys under one roof. Past school mates joined too, family friends, wizards who saw it best to pay their respects. They huddled around the grave and, one by one, they said their goodbyes. Y/n was the last to leave. She'd waited until everyone had their time first, Molly getting gently tugged away by Ron as they were ushered inside where food was being served.
Y/n was the last one - and she was alone for it. She had attempted to hold in her tears, but then she sniffled and they escaped from her waterline. She would have let go completely had it not been for the palm which pressed against her back. The girl jumped and looked to find George had come to join her. "You shouldn't be alone for this." He had said as his gaze tracked the gravestone.
"I can't-" Her words choked her throat. They were on the tip of her tongue but they were tightening it, suffocating her. "It's stupid, but there's times, very small moments, when I just forget. I forget he's really gone and then I remember all over again and it's like I've just been punched in the gut."
George nodded as his arm came around her, pulling her closer, "I know the feeling." He replied.
She sniffled once more and tried to hold it in, but she soon failed. Her head fell to George's shoulder and her tears soon followed.
The two stood there for an unknown about of time. There was no telling with grief. There were times when everything moved too quickly, times when everything was a drag and things moved in slow motion. Y/n wasn't sure which one it was, only that by the time they had returned to the main building, Molly had been questioning George about where he had been all that time.
It was after the funeral when things got more difficult. It was the way she felt as if she had been spat back into society and forced to live in it again as if she hadn't just lost a part of herself. Y/n went on day to day, slowly feeling as if she was falling into that hole Fred had left her with. It drew her in close and encompassed her until she felt stuck again. There came a point where her thoughts had collectively decided that there was no end; there was no end to grief, just that black hole which would never fail to leave her.
It was around this point in time when George knocked at her door with a proposition. He came and sat down in her small home and she made a pot of tea for them to both share. A part of her had been relieved that someone had come to see her, possibly check in on her, and that it was someone she hoped to share her grief with.
"I was thinking," George started as he placed the china cup back down to the circular kitchen table. "If you were up to it of course, that maybe you'd like to help out. At the shop." He watched her expression carefully, watched in thought as if the idea may comfort her, or whether it disgusted her. "It's an idea. I need the help and I thought maybe it'd help you..."
He trailed off, feeling as if his next words may cross a line they had drawn.  Alas, Y/n finished them for him: "Feel closer to Fred." His name felt foreign on her lips. She hadn't spoken it for a great time. Maybe not even since the funeral.
Y/n recalled a time when the name had been yelled down the halls in glee, or conventionally when she was in need of his attention or the times when it was whispered against the touch of his lips. Now the name seemed to carry only heartache and memories which no longer glowed.
"I thought it might work." George suggested.
Y/n's gaze fell to her tea and the swirls it was creating. She sniffled at a thought and looked back up to face the boy. "George, I would love to help you, truly, but I can barely open my wardrobe and stare at his jumper still hanging there without breaking down. If I can't even do that, how would I deal in the shop? It's like there's glimpses of him at every turn." She told him. She realised then that this was the most honest he had been since Fred's passing. "I would like to, truly, but I don't think I'd be of much help."
George nodded, trying not to let on his disappointment in the decision. He stared at his tea; Y/n did too. A silence suffocated the air. The boy glanced up and spoke softly, "Forgive me, Y/n, if I'm overstepping, but do you ever wonder that maybe things need to change? I understand the grief and the sadness, trust me, I do, but if you don't face it enough, then it'll consume you." He went on as her gaze drew to him, glossy and nostalgic. "I don't mean this as a way to persuade you to come work at the shop, I mean this as a way of telling you that everything will remind you of him one way or the other. You can't let that control you."
A tear slipped from her eyes. Her hand swatted it away before it could fall any further down her cheek. She wasn't wanting to cry. She wasn't wanting any pity. She just wanted some common ground. George seemed to be that common ground. But, in that moment, as she faced his words she knew to be truth, it freighted her core. The silence returned.
George chugged the rest of his tea and abruptly stood from his chair, gathering his things with him. Without a word, he headed for the door.
"What if I can't?" Y/n's tone seeped through the air. She turned to face him, still sat the table, worried that if she tried to stand, her knees may buckle. "What if I'm not ready to move on?"
If only George knew such answer. Instead, he looked at her warmly and said, "No one ever is."
She gave no reply and the boy left, leaving Y/n's head with filling thoughts she would attend to.
His words echoed for weeks. And for them weeks she changed nothing. Maybe her glare on that jumper in the wardrobe lingered more. Maybe her thoughts at night were beginning to question George's suggestion. Maybe she was slowly coming around to this idea. No matter how hard she had tried, it never left her head and it came to the point where she had to act on it.
One weekend came by. Another weekend in which her plans were minimal. In fact, she had no plans. She never really had plans anymore.
Alas, she picked up her coat and made her way to Diagon Ally and then, the shop. Luckily with it still being in the school term, it was quiet. A few families with young children and babies wandered around, giggling at the silly noises the toys would make. Y/n found her gaze lingering for a moment, finding herself remembering a time when that was what she wanted between her and Fred: a family. Another great big Weasley family.
George was right; she couldn't look at anything now without the thought of Fred daunting her mind.
"Y/n," The girl turned to find George standing behind her. "I didn't expect you here."
She took a few steps closer to him, making their conversation less out in the open. "Sorry, I should have called-"
"No, no, it's fine." He assured. "I'm glad you're here." A whisker of a smile glazed his lips which Y/n struggled to match.
She nodded and waited a moment before continuing, "I couldn't stop thinking about what you said. All of it." He was listening ever so intently, hanging onto every word that fell from her lips. "I think that maybe you were right. I think it could help. I think it could help us both if I came a worked here for a bit."
His smile tugged slightly. "You're certain?"
"Yes."
"Well, whenever you're ready to start then-"
She cut through his words without even thinking, "Now."
George's brows raised, unsure if he had heard her correctly, "Now? You wanted to start now?" He reiterated.
"May as well." Truth was, the idea of going home terrified her. Going home would mean going back to being alone. At least here, with George, she had someone. And maybe someone wasn't much, but Y/n was certain he was better than standing in a crowd of people who didn't care to understand her.
"I'll show you around then."
He took her around the levels once again. She'd been in the shop before, many times. Though, she hadn't stepped foot in it since they left for the battle of Hogwarts. And she was right in finding them many glimpses of Fred when she glanced around, but then she would turn and find George and suddenly that hole wasn't so daunting.
Y/n's jobs weren't exhausting, maybe tedious, but she was able to get through them. Mainly they consisted of her stocking shelves and sweeping. But it had calmed her mind and kept her from returning to that lonely place in her mind where that black hole was sucking her in. So she agreed with George to come again the week after. And then the week after that too. Before either of them could realise it, they had seamlessly slipped into a pattern.
Y/n started coming more often, showing up at least three times a week at one point.
There came one night, when she was closing up the shop, that George caught her. "Thanks again for today." He said as they walked side by side towards the back of the shop where Y/n kept her things.
She glanced up and forced a smile to crack at her lips, "Of course."
He slowed as she took hold of her bag and her coat, slowly slipping them on. She was curious when she looked back up to find the boy still standing there, deep in some thought Y/n was unable to pin-point. "You alright?" She questioned the boy.
His gaze snapped back to her. And while he nodded, there seemed a distant speck in his eyes which led Y/n believe he wasn't. "No, fine, fine." He mumbled away. "I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to get a beer at the Leaky Cauldron? It is Friday after all. But, of course, there's no pressure for you to-"
"I'd love to, George." Suppose if it meant longer from that lonely place. Or maybe, after these weeks and these months, maybe it was less about Y/n keeping away from the black hole, and more about keeping close to what was filling that space.
He struggled to conceal his smile which he feared was too much in the moment. "Great." He replied. Then he grabbed his coat and joined the girl's side as the wandered out into the street and towards the pub.
The pub was bustling at this time. Many witches and wizard calling their orders, chucking and talking about what a future without you-know-who would hold. It was sense which felt foreign to Y/n after all this time. She stuck close to George as they got two drinks and snuck into a quiet corner towards the back.
"Thanks for coming. I've always been alone past few weeks." He uttered as they took their seats, not daring to mention Fred's name yet.
"Well I suppose you're welcome." She replied. "I'm trying to get out more - if you hadn't already noticed."
He grinned and carefully went into his next topic of conversation. "I've thinking about the work you've been doing at the shop. I'd like to offer you a propper job. One where you get paid and you get time tabled shifts." He explained, watching as she followed along curiously. "There's no rush to make your decision yet, but just know that the offer is there."
There was a few moments of silence before Y/n piped up again. "You're meaning to tell me that all this free labour I've doing these past months for you, I could have gotten paid for?" A smile rose to her lips. A real smile. One of which wasn't forced, wasn't plastered on there as she was assuring someone that she was alright. One of which was genuine and came with ease. She hadn't even realise she had done it until the moment passed.
"Is that a yes then?" George quirked a brow.
"Of course it is."
They both took long swigs from their cups, drinking to a new future. "There's a spare room as well. It's above the shop. Might make things easier for you." He added as he placed the cup back down.
"Fred's room?" She questioned as something in her pupils faded.
George took a second before nodding lightly, "Yeah."
"I'll think about it."
With that, George went to get another round of drinks. Then Y/n went after they finished them. A few hours had passed, and before they realised it, their vision was hazy and their words were slurring. Several empty cups were laid out in front of them as the pub fell quiet. By now, groups of people had left and the remaining had simmered down until their voices became background noise.
George was in the middle of a ramble. Something about a new item idea he had. Though, Y/n could barely follow his words, "And of course, the construction of such would be tricky. Though, I know a guy." He went on.
"Oh, you know a guy?" The girl repeated with a small giggle. "Sounds not at all conspicuous."
"It's not, I promise. He's an upstanding citizen!" George defended.
She shook her head and raised her cup towards her lips, "You're digging yourself a hole." She told him before taking a swig.
Y/n found her gaze wandering towards a window. White speckles had started to pat against the glass. At first, she wasn't sure what it had been. Then common sense hit and she matched the bitter air and the declining tempture to such icy specks; it was snowing.
Almost instantly, she stood from her chair. "Y/n?" George inquired, concern woven throughout his tone. "Everything okay?"
She said nothing. Rather, the girl just started walking. A brisk walk towards the exit, leaving George no choice but to follow behind. She lept out from the comforts of the building, finding the cobblestone path glazed in a white drizzle as the darkening sky fell with the snow. She swirled around slightly, her head titled upwards, her doe-eyes seeming full for the first time since Fred's passing.
"This is what made you run out?" George had questioned as he shivered, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "Snow?"
"Yes, snow." She answered as she came towards him, gently taking a hand and dragging him towards the middle of the street.
He looked down at her in awe, "It's cold." His voice came out as a whisper, battling against the crisp air.
"It usually is when it snows." Her voice too only a whisper.
George felt like he was in a trance and Y/n was his hypnotist. He was ever so captivated and seemed to fall just at her touch. His gaze flickered to her lips. He didn't make a move. He wouldn't. Not when considering the fact that she was still his brother's-
She leaned in. She made a move. She kissed him.
It was sweet and enticing like they could - for a second - forget that black hole which plagued them both.
As years passed, and more kisses were shared, their lives seemed to mould into one. They had the shop, they had the starts of that great Weasley family and their black holes had shrunk to the point where it was only noticeable during such small moments.
There was one Summer when Y/n was seated on their living room floor, their young daughter sat with her. She was at that age when she was beginning to question the things around her. In the midst of her inspecting one of the new toys George was wanting to put on the shelf, all out of the blue, there came a question Y/n had never known how she was going to answer: "Mummy, who's that?"
Y/n glanced up, finding her daughter pointing over at something on the mantlepiece. It was a photograph, one of which her and George had framed and placed there when they first moved in. A picture of her, him and Fred. It had been taken after they finished school, the last time they ever had wear uniform again and Molly had demanded a photo of the three of them.
"That?" Y/n said as her gaze lingered over the memory of Fred. "That's your uncle. You know what an uncle is don't you? Like uncle Chalie and uncle Ron?" She nodded along. "Well that's your uncle Fred."
She looked confused and Y/n wasn't sure if she understood. "Where- Where is he now?" She questioned with bright, curious pupils.
"He's erm-" She paused and thought for a long moment. "He's not around anymore. He passed away, do you understand?" It took a second but the young girl nodded. "He died during that battle. You know the one that me and your dad fought in? He dying fighting for what he believed in." She nodded and like that, like it was only casual conversation, she returned to her toys.
Y/n found her gaze pulled towards the doorway where George had been standing silently. He'd wandered in and stopped when he caught the conversation about Fred. As the two stared at one another, Y/n could only think one thing: At least she and George had found something beautiful hidden within the grief.
494 notes · View notes