#george weasley au

[lumosandnoxwriting]

flashback to my mistakes || George Weasley

Title: flashback to my mistakes Pairing: George x Reader Summary: George never planned on proposing marriage. Not after he broke the heart of the only woman he ever saw himself marrying. But when he’s up for Captain and the only thing standing in his way is a less than stellar reputation, he’s willing to do anything to overcome that. So when Fred suggests a fake dating scheme like all the romance books his girlfriend reads, George immediately agrees. What better way to show people he’s a serious role model than a lifelong commitment? Too bad the only woman he could even stomach pretending to be engaged to hates his guts. Or does she?

A/N:And here it is! The first part of my new hockey!george series! Hope you enjoy!

-

“Weasley,” Coach Morris greets as George steps into his office. George nods in response, settling into one of the chairs facing Coach’s desk when the other man motions for him to sit. “Thanks for coming to see me on such short notice.”

“Of course, Coach,” George responds, keeping it brief. He’s trying to exude a casual, confident aura to hide the fact that he’s freaking the fuck out on the inside. Getting called into the Coach's office during the season is one thing, but having him schedule a last minute meeting a week before pre-season is utterly terrifying. The fact that his Agent and a representative from Legal aren’t in attendance is the only thing keeping George from a full on panic attack. 

As long as his spot on the team is safe George doesn’t care what Coach might have to say.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you in today, and as much as I want to see you sweat a bit I’ll leave the torture for the ice,” Morris teases with a laugh. George doesn’t think he’s heard Coach laugh in the five years he’s been with the Rebels, so he manages to squeak out a chuckle. “As you know, Crawford retired at the end of the last season and the team is in need of a new captain.”

George clenches his fists, feeling like his stomach might fall out of his ass. As the center to Crawford’s right wing, George had been devastated when they lost in the second round of playoffs and Tyler announced his retirement in the locker room after. Losing a teammate is always hard, but Tyler had become like a big brother to George and he didn’t even think about the fact that he wasn’t just losing a good friend, but a captain as well. 

Until now. 

“I haven’t really thought about it,” George says honestly when Coach doesn’t continue. “I was more worried about who was going to replace Tyler on my line.”

Coach laughs again, shocking George just as much as the first time. “Well at any rate, the team is in need of a solid Captain. We lost a few other vets to trades and we’ve got a slew of rookies coming in who will need someone dependable to look up to as a role model. And to be honest with you George, your name has come up more than once.”

“Oh, wow,” George stutters out. “Just being considered for a position like that is an honor, Coach.”

George is not the most senior player on the team, so the fact that his name has been brought up in these discussions is truly a shock. He’s spent the last six years in the league working his ass off to try and make a name for himself playing the sport he loves. His rookie year he was placed on the third line, and every spare second of his time has been spent trying to improve in the hopes of moving up. 

It’s why he’s still around, even in the off season. Even when the team is on break George is training. Whether it’s in the weight room or on the ice, George is always working hard to stay fit and on top of his game. And clearly it’s paid off, since he was promoted to second line during his second season, and half way through his third Coach bumped him up to first. The feeling of being the first person on the ice is like nothing he’s ever felt, and George has worked his ass off to keep that privilege. 

And just the thought of having that capital C on his jersey as well has George feeling higher than any drug ever could.

“Final decisions haven’t been made yet, but I wanted to pull you in to let you know you were being considered because, well,” Coach pauses, and George thinks he might throw up. “Some of the administration thinks you’re still a little too fresh. You know I don’t like to listen to the shit some of those magazines publish, but not everyone who makes these decisions is the same way. And what you do or who you do off the ice is none of our business, but that doesn’t mean that the admin team likes hearing about the wild parties you go to and the girls you take home. Like I said they’re really looking for someone dependable and who can be a good role model to the younger guys on the team. We got so close to the Cup last year, and this year we’ve got the talent to get there, we just need the leadership to guide us.”

George nods in understanding. “Of course, Coach. I appreciate the heads up and the ability to show you and the rest of the admins that there’s no other man for the job but me. All that shit is in my past, I promise.”

“Good.” Coach starts to ruffle through the paperwork in front of him, and George takes that as a goodbye.

He shuffles out of the office and heads back down towards the parking lot, already trying to formulate a plan. 

Now that him being Captain is on the table, there’s no way he’s stopping until that capital C is his.

-

“So let me get this straight,” Fred starts, his familiar voice tinged with the tinny sound of a FaceTime call. “Coach said you’re on the short list for Captain, but some of the higher ups don’t think you’re a stable enough role model.”

George nods, taking a sip of his beer. “Precisely.”

“So now you’re trying to think up some kind of plan or scheme to convince everyone that your fuck boy days are in the past and you’re ready to be the team Daddy?”

“Yup, you got it.”

Even through the grainy call George can see the mischievous glint in his twin’s eyes. “Then you’ve come to the right place, little bro.”

George grins, but he knows it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. The only downside of his job and his dedication to it is that it keeps him from seeing his family regularly. When your job keeps you busy for eight months of the year and you spend the other four months training for that job there isn’t much time to fly across the country for a visit. His parents and siblings still live in the small town in Washington where they grew up, and not having them close by makes the big city feel even bigger. 

Under normal circumstances, Fred would be here on the couch with George. And they’d be sipping beers and scheming together. But a FaceTime call will have to suffice.

“So the partying has to stop, obviously,” Fred starts. “Or at least how publicly you do it. Same with the puck bunnies and trust me, I know, it wounds me to even say it. If I could get pussy that easily I would be fucking drowning in it, but if you want to project a new, focused and reliable persona you can’t be banging a new chick every night.”

“I came up with that on my own, genius,” George huffs. “But I don’t think that’s enough to really get through to everyone that I’m ready to be Captain.”

“And are you?” Fred asks. “Ready to be captain, that is.”

“Of course.” George is firm in his answer. “I know I can do it, and I’m just going along with some stupid scheme to show everyone else I can do it too.”

“Alright, bro, as long as you’re sure.” Fred pauses as they both think. An idea must hit him, because suddenly Fred’s eyes are lighting up. “Fake dating!”

George raises an eyebrow in question. “I’m sorry, what the hell did you just say?”

“Fake dating, it’s a book trope or whatever. Angelina is always talking my ear off about the newest book she’s reading, and it’s a pretty popular story line. You know, someone wants to make their ex jealous, or they need a fiance to get their inheritance. Bam, fake relationship.”

“Huh. That’s actually not the worst idea you’ve ever had,” George responds, his surprise evident in his tone. “A fake fiance would be the perfect cover. Shows my partying is behind me, and I’m ready to be serious and settle down. And then once I’m Captain and things have blown over, we’ll have an amicable break up and everything will be right with the world again.”

“And that little brother is how the master works,” Fred grins. “Now you just gotta find a girl. Maybe one of our past hookups.”

George frowns, shaking his head. “No, it’s gotta be someone I feel comfortable around and who I know won’t go blabbering to everyone about what’s happening. It has to be someone I might actually consider spending the rest of my life with. Some random puck bunny is not that.”

They both sit in silence, sipping on their beers as they try and figure out who that girl might be. And when they both suddenly make contact, there isn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind that they truly are identical twins. Because George can tell by the look on his brother’s face that they’ve both come to the same conclusion. 

“Y/N,” Fred is the only one brave enough to utter her name. 

And as much George wants to admit that his brother is wrong, deep down he knows that he’s right. Y/N is the only girl George has ever loved, and leaving her behind is the only regret he has in life. Fuck, even all these years later, just thinking about her makes his chest ache. Swearing off commitment and marriage isn’t something George ever even considered until he broke things off with Y/N. He only ever wanted those things with her, and just the thought of even pretending to feel those things for someone else makes him sick to his stomach.

“When’s the last time you talked to her?” Fred asks when George doesn’t say anything. 

“The day I left. I’ve tried to reach out a few times, but,” George shrugs, taking another long drag from his beer. “She never picked up or responded.”

“She still lives in town. If you just show up she’ll probably be so shocked she’ll have no option but to hear you out.”

George nods, reluctantly agreeing with his brother. “Looks like I’m coming home.”

-

“Everything looks the same,” George rumiates wistfully, his eyes roaming over the buildings they pass as Fred drives. 

He hasn’t been back home in nearly a decade, and yet his hometown looks as if it was frozen in time. The ice cream parlor on main street still has the same faded red and white awning, and George swears the chalkboard out front boasts the same specials it did when he used to take Y/N there after school. 

The memory of Y/N reminds him both of why it’s been so long since he came back, and why he finally did. Every inch of this town is covered in memories of Y/N, and every reminder of her cuts George down to the bone. Deep down he knows that letting go of her all those years ago was the best decision for both of them, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

“Well here we are,” Fred announces, pulling George out of his thoughts. But once he realizes where exactly they are his stomach drops. 

Parklane Community Center, is still plastered on the front of the familiar building and George thinks he may actually throw up. This is where he learned to skate, where he joined his first PeeWee league and where he led his high school team to the state championship four years in a row. 

This is also the place where he first met Y/N, when they were both six year olds teetering on brand new ice skates. They’d held onto each other, rather than the orange traffic cones all the kids had been given, and that was the start of a beautiful friendship. Y/N never did anything with those lessons like George did, but she was sitting in the stands cheering him on at every single game he played on that ice. 

When they were in middle school George took Y/N to the community center for open skating on their first ever date. They’d held hands as they glided across the ice and every time she so much as stumbled George was there to catch her. After they got done on the ice they drank hot chocolate at one of the tables, their free hands still intertwined. 

Their first kiss happened here too, right before George tried out for the local travel team and he was practically vibrating with nerves. But as soon as Y/N’s lips touched his all those nerves melted away, and George became the youngest member of the team.

Every moment that lead to George playing in the NHL took place here at this rink, and Y/N was there for every single one of them. 

“Here? You’re sure?” George asks once he’s able to speak. 

Fred nods, giving his brother a sympathetic look. “Yeah, she teaches lessons on the weekend.”

Taking a deep inhale George closes his eyes, needing to take a second to center himself. Not only is he about to see the love of his life for the first time since he broke her heart, but he’s about to ask her for the biggest favor known to man. He can do this, he knows he can. He’s just not sure if he’s ready.

Once his eyes pop back open Fred claps him on the shoulder. “You got this, man.”

Giving his brother a nod in thanks, George braces himself, throwing the car door open and stepping out into the parking lot.  

Here goes nothing.

-

It takes George several minutes to actually make his way to the rink. 

Greg, the same janitor who was in charge of the facility when George was a boy, spotted him the second he came in the door, and pulled him over into a conversation. Which ended up being a good thing, because the morning lesson was just finishing up and while they were chatting a flood of parents with their kids came rushing out of the double doors that lead into the rink. So what started as an annoying inconvenience actually turned into a blessing in disguise, because George definitely did not want to see Y/N for the first time in front of her students and their parents.

With a promise to come back soon, George parts from Greg. He stands just outside the doors to the rink for a few seconds, just taking a few more deep breaths. He’s hit with a wave of nostalgia as he approaches the rink, and it almost brings him to his knees. 

There’s a long figure out on the ice, and George doesn’t need to look for long to know it’s Y/N. He’d recognize the outline of her body anywhere, and she’s just as beautiful as he remembers. She’s just gliding along the ice, not really doing anything fancy and George creeps closer to the boards. He’s drawn to Y/N, and he’s far too weak to resist the pull.

Suddenly Y/N turns on her skates, and George is face to face with the woman he loves. 

Y/N stops, a strangled gasp leaving her lips as she takes in the man standing less than ten feet away. Anyone else in her position would assume that it’s Fred just stopping by to be annoying. But Y/N spent years studying the slight differences between the twins, and there’s no doubt in her mind that George Weasley is standing there. At the rink. Looking right at her. 

Holy fucking shit. 

He looks older, more mature and even in the faint light she can see the slight crook in his nose after it got broken in a game last season. All the times she imagined this moment, never did Y/N actually think it would ever occur. She’s spent years wishing George would come home, but now that it’s here she’s not really sure how to feel. 

Especially considering the way things ended between them. It almost feels like some weird twist of fate, that George should show back up in her life here at the rink, considering it was this very spot where he left her all those years ago.

-

“There you are,” Y/N greets as she steps up to the boards, a wide smile on her face. She’d been trying to get in touch with George for the last few hours, and when he wasn’t at home she knew there was only one other place he’d be.

The rink.

When George just keeps skating Y/N yells out. “Hey! I’m talking to you, George!”

Ice sprays out as George comes to a sharp stop, giving up on whatever drill he’d been running. He doesn’t even bother to mutter an apology, but he does slowly make his way over to where Y/N is standing. 

“What’s up?”

She frowns at him. “What crawled up your ass and died?”

“Nothing, I’m just in the middle of something.”

“Oh, excuse me,” Y/N bites. She hates getting short with George, but it seems almost necessary lately with how moody he’s been. In all the years they’ve been together George has never been this distant, and it’s starting to worry her. After they managed to survive freshman year of college apart, Y/N figured the next three years would be a breeze. But now George is about to leave after Spring Break and she can’t help but feel like she’s about to lose him for good. 

Softening her tone, Y/N reaches out to grab George’s hand. “I can’t help you deal with whatever’s going on in that head of yours if you don’t talk to me about it, Georgie. You and I against the world, remember?”

“Do you remember that guy Jameson? The Agent who signed me at the end of the last season?” George asks instead of responding to Y/N’s concern. He’s been torturing himself for days on how to have this conversation with her, and even still he’s not ready. 

Though George isn’t sure he’d ever be ready to break up with the only woman he will ever love. 

“Yeah,” Y/N answers skeptically. 

“He called me, the other day. Said some teams have been interested. Chicago’s going to draft me next week.”

“George, that’s amazing!” Y/N cheers, jumping up and down in excitement. But when she goes to hug George and he steps away from her embrace, all that joy drains from her body. “George?”

“It’s still not a guarantee, they’re offering me a contract for after graduation,” George explains. “It’s provisional, if I let myself slip they can still withdraw, and then I’ll have to reenter the draft as a free agent after graduation.”

“Okay,” Y/N drawls, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She has a feeling that she knows where this is going, but part of her is still hanging on. 

“I need to focus on hockey, Y/N. This is my only opportunity to prove to myself and everyone else that I’m good enough. That I can compete on a professional level.” George exhales sharply. “I don’t have time for distractions.”

“Distractions?” Y/N squeaks out, her voice already thick with emotion. “That's all I am to you, George? After everything we’ve been through together? I’m just some stupid distraction.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” George apologizes, but he can’t even look her in the eyes. “But this means everything to me, you know that.”

“Of course I knew that,” Y/N says defeatedly, her voice breaking. “I just thought I meant more.”

George keeps his head down as Y/N leaves him behind, both of their broken hearts spread out on the floor.

-

“Hi,” George greets, breaking the silence. 

“Really?” Y/N asks, voice firm. “Eight years and all you can say is ‘hi’?”

Her tone stings, but George knows he deserves it. He spent so much time thinking about what it would be like to see her again that he didn’t even consider what he might say to her once he did. Just add it to the list of fuck ups he’s been accruing since he walked away from Y/N all those years ago. 

“I’ve never been good with words,” George explains with a shrug. “And unfortunately there isn’t a book out there called ‘what to say to your ex-girlfriend when you come to ask her for a favor eight years after you broke her heart.’”

That intrigues Y/N and she skates closer to George. “You finally came home after all these years to ask me a favor? What are you, dying?” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N feels her stomach sinking. “Holy fuck, George are you dying?”

George is ashamed at how good it feels to hear the genuine worry in her tone. Having her worry that he’s dying is the actual bare minimum, but he’ll take anything he can get. 

“No, nothing like that,” he assures with a grin. “Just hear me out, please?”

Despite the million reasons why even entertaining George is a bad idea, Y/N finds herself nodding in agreement. Because she’s felt a lot of things for George Weasley since he broke her heart, and unfortunately for her love seems to be the strongest. She never stopped loving him, and even after all the years she has a hard time denying him anything.

Once she’s off the ice George helps her put her skate guards on, a simple action that has her cheeks flushing and butterflies threatening to erupt from her tummy. Y/N also takes the hand that George offers, letting him lead her over to the bleachers. Once they sit Y/N keeps her distance, sitting far enough away that they aren’t touching but so she can still feel the heat radiating off of him. 

“There’s a strong possibility that I’ll be the next Captain of the Rebels,” George starts slowly, trying to find the right words. “Morrison, my Coach, said I have a lot of support. But some of the other higher ups don’t know if I’m the best role model for the team.”

“Okay,” Y/N says, her tone questioning. Clearly she’s not as devious as George and Fred, since she has no idea why George is telling her all of this.

“So I’ve been trying to clean up my image, you know? All the partying and stuff.” A knot has lodged itself in his throat, and George swallows thickly. “But I don’t know if that’s enough. Captain is a serious job, and I want everyone to know that I’m serious about it.”

“And that requires a favor from me, how?”

George sighs. “Well Fred and I were talking,” he stops, unable to keep from chuckling when Y/N mutters a quiet "this can’t be good.” “And he suggested this uh, fake dating scheme. He said Angelina reads a lot of rom coms that include it. Basically, Fred said that the best way for me to showcase that I’m a serious guy and a good role model is to uh, ask someone to be my fake fiance.”

Y/N is silent as she lets George’s words soak in, and once they do her jaw nearly drops. “Are you seriously sitting here right now asking for me to pretend to be your fiance? After everything we’ve been through?”

“There’s no other woman in the world I’d ever imagine wearing my ring, Y/N. When I think about marriage, even fake marriage, you’re the only woman that comes to mind.”

The honesty in George’s voice punches her in the gut. This is such a bad idea, and yet Y/N finds herself considering it. Because despite the pain and the years apart, sitting here with George still feels like home. All of her efforts to push him from her mind, to date other people and move on have always failed. Everything has always come back to George Weasley. 

Realistically she knows that this is just going to end in heartbreak again. As soon as George gets what he wants their little charade will be over, and she’ll go back to having a George shaped hole in her life and in her heart. But the smallest part of her, the part that has read those same rom coms and knows the fake dating always turns into real dating, holds out hope that this may be their second chance. 

Either this is the way she rids George from her system for good, or this is the way she keeps him in her life forever. 

And Y/N will never forgive herself if she doesn’t find out which it is. 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N gives George a curt nod. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

The smile that takes over George’s face takes her breath away. “Really? You will?”

“Yes, George. I will.”

Immediately George drops down to one knee and Y/N lets out a sharp gasp when he produces a small velvet jewelry box from his pocket. This is not how she ever imagined a proposal from George, but if this is all she’s ever going to get Y/N will take it. 

“In that case,” George starts, opening up the box to reveal a gorgeous, simple diamond ring on a white gold band. “Y/N, will you pretend to be my future wife?”

#George Weasley #George weasley imagine #George weasley fic #George weasley fanfiction #George weasley fan fiction #George weasley AU #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter au #gw #golden

[myboipotterimagines]

Golden Pt. 2 - Weasley Twins x Reader

Thank you for all the love on part one. I genuinely love this AU and hope you all do too. <3

Other Parts: Part One, Part Three

Your eyes flickered between the two Weasley boys, refusing to accept that you could have two soulmates - even though they were looking you straight in the face. "This is a joke, right?" you finally ask. "I don't think anyone could pull off a joke like this," Fred spoke, gently placing his palm back to the matching spot on your cheekbone. "Even us," George laughed. "And why would we? No one dreams of half a soulmate." You don't know why, but your heart aches at his words. "I didn't dream of having you as my soulmate, either," you retort, pulling away from both Weasleys. "Is that so, sweetheart?" He takes a step closer, smirking. "Because the rouge of your cheeks says otherwise."

"Back off her, George," Fred commands, pulling the two of you apart. "We have to get out of here now or Umbridge will kill us. Like actually kill us." "Alright, soulmate. You coming with us or not?" George asks. "Like she's going to go anywhere with us now, George," Fred scoffs. "You're a total-" "I'm in," you say, cutting him off.

Fred pulled you out of the broom closet before you could change your mind. He held onto your hand as the three of you ran through the halls, avoiding the blasts of light above you. Suddenly, curses mixed into the light of the fireworks. You risked a quick look back and saw Umbridge and the rest of her cult following you. "Shit!" you yelled, ducking from a bright red ray of light.

"Accio!" both twins yelled, and after a moment a broom hit each of their hands. They mounted the brooms, Fred pulling you right behind him. You clutch him closely while shooting a string of spells behind you at Umbridge. With a final toss of fireworks, you're gone - Hogwarts far behind.

It was no time before you landed down in Diagon Alley. "What are we doing here?" you ask. The town was a graveyard - each shop having been closed for what seemed to be months.

"Alohamora," George whispered, cracking open a door to a building near the end of the lot. "You are looking at the start of our joke shop - name still pending." "And our home for the next month. If we told our mum we were leaving Hogwarts she would drag us straight back. So we have to wait her out here," Fred adds.

After spelling on the lights, George leads you in. The place was nowhere near finished, but you could see the bones of the operation. Half-finished products were strewn over the ground, haphazard notes that only they could read near each one. "This is really cool," you smile.

"I would advise you not to touch anything. There's a method to our madness and I really don't want you to accidentally blow yourself up," George says. You nod. "No touching. Got it." "Come on, bedroom's this way," Fred leads. You wish you could stop the heat from rising to your face, but George sees it immediately, smirking to himself. You ignore him, following Fred closely up the stairs.

"We didn't really prepare for guests," he admits, rubbing the nape of his neck. You enter the bedroom to find two beds on either side of the wall, an simple dresser by each one. And that was it. Not even a couch. The room was just sad. You laughed, "I can tell. If you can spare a pillow I'll sleep in the corner. It'll be cozy." "You are not sleeping on the floor," both twins immediately protested. "No way we're letting any guest sleep on the ground, let alone our soulmate," George scoffs.

"You'll have my bed tonight. We'll figure something else out by tomorrow," Fred adds.

You protested, of course, but the two fought back harder. You finally just gave in, heading towards the bed. You finally take off your cloak, aching to get out of your whole uniform, but knowing you would have to wait until tomorrow to get anything remotely comfortable to wear.

Fred immediately picks up on your discomfort. "You can wear these tonight," he says, pulling a sweater out of his dresser, then a pair of joggers. You retreat to the bathroom to pull on the clothes, and as you do you notice the golden F stitched into the sweater. You smile as the rub the end of the sleeve between your fingers.

The twins had changed out of their robes by the time you returned. George had already gone to bed, and Fred was waiting for you on his. You sat down beside him, finally taking a moment to rest after the insanity of the day. "Thank you for this," you said, nodding down to your sweater. "And for bringing me with you, and letting me sleep on your bed, and for not meeting me in the way I always feared you would."

Fred brings his hand to your face, holding you from your jaw to your ear, just as he had when you fell. "I don't think my hands could ever hurt you." He spoke the words quietly, but they filled your entire head. When you looked at him, you felt dizzy. It was all too much - his kindness, his brother's apprehension, the fact that they were both your soulmates. Was that even possible? In all your years you'd never heard of a person having two soulmates, let alone at the same time. But there they were. There he was, staring down at you with the kindest eyes you'd ever seen on a man.

"Can I kiss you?" Fred asked. His cheeks rouged as he asked, and yours followed. You couldn't speak, so you just nodded. And then the hand that had settled onto your skin, like it belonged there, pulled you into him. His lips were soft against yours, moving as slowly as a person possibly could. Still, his touch was electric and the shockwaves surged through you.

Your heart lurched in it's chest when he pulled away from you. "Goodnight," he smiled, pushing himself off of his bed. You quickly grabbed his hand, halting him. "Stay." Fortunately, he didn't require much convincing. He let you become comfortable before sliding into bed behind you, wrapping one hand around your waist.

"Merlin," George huffed, causing both of you to jump. "The two of you cannot fit comfortably on that bed. With a quick flick of his hand, his bed pushed against his brothers, the sheets melding together. You yelped as strong hands pulled you up from the outside of the bed and plopped you back down right in the middle. "I will not be cuddled by Fred in my sleep again. I trust you to keep your distance."

"With all due respect, Georgie. You are the last person I would want to cuddle in this room," Fred shot back, wrapping a protective arm around you. "I would sure hope so," he rolled his eyes, finally lowering himself into bed beside you. He didn't bother to face the other direction, instead studying your face. Against your will, you blushed once more - which only caused him to smirk. "Sweet dreams, princess," he teased.

"Sweet dreams, Georgie," you smiled back, finally causing his cheeks to burn.

***

Author's Note: I'm thinking about making this a series. Let me know what you all think. And if I do make it a series - would y'all want smut or no?

#fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins x reader #fred weasley x reader x george weasley #why choose #soulmates au #harrypotter imagine #george weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #fred weasley imagine

[slytherins-heir]

When I tell you guys to get onto Character.ai and search up anyone and to add the voice to the conversation; I mean it. here i am, lying on my bed kicking my legs like a school girl

#sebastian sallow x reader #draco malfoy x reader #tom riddle x reader #slytherin boys #gryffindor boys #hogwarts au #sebastian sallow fics #draco malfoy fics #tom riddle fics #regulus black x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #ron weasley x reader #fred weasly x reader #george weasley x reader #snape x reader #mattheo riddle #harry potter au #hogwarts legacy au #hogwarts legacy x mc #slytherin boys x reader #theodore nott x reader

[odinsonslut]

Young

⊹ genre: Fluff mostly, minimal angst

⊹ pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin female reader

⊹ themes: Friends to lovers

⊹ summary: Fred rejected your advances, claiming you’re too young. You set out to seduce him, which backfires. Unwarranted comments were made in your presence, and George attempted to comfort you, finally explaining his fears and feelings in the process.

⊹ warnings: Swearing, third-party slut-shaming of the reader, mentions of an emotionally toxic relationship, very brief mention of drugs.

⊹ word count: 1.7k

⊹ a/n:  I don’t know why I’ve chosen to base this whole fic off of rejection yet again, but It’s completely different to the last, trust. A cute Fred one today because I’ve had a recent fixation on the twins and can’t seem to write for anyone else atm. 

Confidence has come naturally to you since the first day you walked through the castle doors. Many would wager that’s why you ended up in Slytherin over Hufflepuff. You’d never had issues letting people know how you felt about them; rejection had never been a concern or a fear simply because your self-assurance wasn’t so easily deteriorated. 

This wasn’t ever in question until two weeks ago. You hadn’t thought twice about approaching Fred after months of mutual teasing, or so you thought it was. You went to his spot on Gryffindor’s table in the morning, greeting him with a single pumpkin pasty. You waited till he took a bite out of it before making some quip that you couldn’t seem to, or rather didn’t want to remember, about owing you a kiss and maybe something more in return for it, to which he painfully, tragically mustered a chuckle past his lips, probably the most awkward position I’ve seen him in, before finally finding the words to let you down easily.

“You know I love you endlessly, but we’re friends” He could’ve just as easily stopped there, but he continued. 

“You’re just a little too young for me.”

Young

He briefly dated Amelia Farrow last spring, and she’s four months younger than you, so obviously, it wasn’t an age issue. He saw you as immature, a kid. He couldn’t even begin to picture you as attractive in any form. Actually, feeling affected as a result of rejection was unfamiliar; it was scary. How had you allowed yourself to feel enough for a man that your own stability suffered? As a result, you didn’t just feel hurt, you felt inferior, and that was harrowing enough in itself. 

You were just beginning to fall into another rant directing every expressional detail from the twitch of his bottom lip to the scrunch in his left brow when you were interrupted by a loud sigh.

“Babe, I couldn’t live a day without you, but swooning over a blood-traitor Weasley is way more than I can handle for the 7th time this morning”, Pansy quipped after a supportive kiss on my cheek.

“Give me a solution then”, you pleaded, faux pouting while hugging her thighs desperately.

“Seduce him, love; you’ve got the best ass on anyone in this entire school. Malfoy tells me he’s got a preference for it, says he lets a lot slip when they’re off smoking muggle grass.”

“Teach me how. You’re probably the only girl in our year every Slytherin male wants to shag a second time.”

-

It was the first quidditch match of the year, so naturally, you put on your uniform from 3rd year to cheer the team on. Malfoy found your overreaction to rejection amusing, like a fish out of water, to use his words, so he didn’t mind playing the role of the pawn in your game. You spent all game cheering Draco on, making sure you were just enthusiastic enough to attract Fred’s attention. 

The game finally came to an end. Gryffindor just barely scraped by, with Harry catching the snitch. I could already see Oliver Wood pushing Fred about, demanding a valid reason for his poor performance during the game. He pushed Wood off of him and stormed off with an exasperated look on his face.

I caught up to him a few feet away, deciding to skip past the jokes, figuring he wasn’t quite in the mood.

“Hey, you okay?” I timidly asked, reaching out to stroke his hand

“You sure move on quick, don’t you?” He spoke harshly, ignoring my question completely

“Are you serious? You reject me, then get mad at my attempts to move past that?” I shoved his shoulder, feigning annoyance. I knew exactly what I was doing, trying to prompt a reaction out of him.

“And what the hell are you wearing? Damn near sent Adrian Pucey spiralling into the benches with your ass out like that.”

“So I had both team’s beaters distracted, huh?”

“I wasn’t distracted so much as horrified.” He immediately followed

You shoved him playfully. “Shut up, weasel. You’re literally still staring at my tits.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t put that outfit on for me to stare at?” He whispered as we came to a halt just outside the quidditch changing rooms 

To my dismay, I couldn’t think of anything to do or say but scoff at him, to which his grin grew even bigger.

He turned to leave, my brain regaining activity without the pressure of his eyes in contact with mine.

“I put it on so you’d have a clearer image to jack off to tonight.”

I headed back to my dorm before he could get another word in.

-

I approached the great hall hand in hand with Daphne Greengrass, completely satisfied with the way I left things with Fred yesterday, convinced I’d won. The smile on my face immediately dropped as I heard the conversation taking place at the Gryffindor table.

“- he’s even got a Slytherin girl in his pocket, dressing up like a little slut just for him.”

“Tell me, Weasley, does she like it rough?”

“Seems like the kind of girl that’d take it in the back.”

Your heart dropped as you heard comments from miscellaneous men in the house, jeering over each other, collectively patting an angry-looking Fred on his back and shoulders in a congratulatory manner.  

We made eye contact. Before the men at his table sensed my presence, too, I broke away from Daphne and sprinted out of the Hall. I sank by a tree in front of the lake as I took shallow breaths.

What hurts is that every assumption they made about my character felt deserving. When did I become the girl so desperate for one man’s attention that I so pathetically made myself more sexually desirable in his eyes? So that his lust would cloud his judgement and throw me lay at the very least? I hadn’t even realised how delirious I was acting and how painfully obvious it was to everyone but me just how much more I clung to the idea of him. It was like a montage of clarity was playing in my brain, of the way I continued running up to the Gryffindor common room every morning, taking every opportunity to make what I thought was subtle physical contact with him. God.

I let out a little yelp when I finally opened my eyes. Fred sat right next to me, leaning his head against the tree the same way I was.

“God, you scared me half to death! fucking cunt” I muttered the last part, allowing my anger to peak through 

“I had Malfoy help me make sure those guys’ mouths stay shut. I’m sorry you had to hear that, and I’m sorry they were able to say more than two words without me hexing them and their mothers, to begin with. None of what any of them said is worth your care. They heard us talking outside the changing rooms yesterday. They’re all jealous little virgins that have-

“They were things I needed to hear” I cut him off before he fell into a rant that honestly wouldn’t have made a difference to the way I felt.

He looked at me incredulously, struggling to find the words to respond. 

“I was seeking your attention so incredibly desperately. It embarrasses me to think about it. You said no; I should’ve respected that and left it as it was. I took your reasoning personally, and for the way I’ve acted since that day, I apologise, truly,” I continued.

He sighed. “I only said what I said out of fear. I’m sure you remember I briefly dated a Hufflepuff girl in your year, Amelia. I made a mistake getting involved with her. She didn’t know how to separate love from attachment, and it got to a point her dependence on me started affecting her mental well-being, along with mine. Nobody saw much of me during the time we were dating because I was just so caught up with making sure she was okay since she relied on me completely. I didn’t realise  I was even allowed to have boundaries at all in a relationship. She constantly made me feel selfish and uncaring for wanting space or even just time with my family. When you told me how you felt about me, I had recovered from the relationship, but I hadn’t yet allowed myself to consider a future relationship with another person. I said what I thought I needed to say to avoid our relationship turning into the one I had with Amelia. But ever since you told me how you felt about me, it made me realise nothing about us has ever been platonic to me. I have never thought of you that way, and even when I tried to, I didn’t know how to look at you in any other way than lovingly. I feel so much for you. I could see myself loving you so easily. I’m just really afraid. I don’t know if I’m ready to navigate that all over again.”

It took me a while to respond, taking in everything he said in a state of such vulnerability. I noticed a stray tear on my skirt; it was his. I immediately reached out to hold his hands in comfort. I opened my mouth to respond but was cut off yet again.

“I will never allow anyone to say a word against you ever again, love.” He added

“I care a lot about you, Fred. I reacted the way I did, with such force and conviction, because it’s unfamiliar to me too, feeling so deeply for someone. Whatever you want to come from this, we can do. I want to learn to keep my independence through my feelings for you. I don’t think declaring something more than friendship will change things between us overnight, and I think all we need to do is keep being us.” 

“Okay”, he responded timidly but surely.

He could’ve just stopped there, but I’d come to learn that’s never something to expect from him.

“I absolutely did jack off to you last night, though.”

I kicked him in the shin as we walked back to the castle, hand in hand. 

End

✩ I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE ANY OF MY WRITING POSTED ON ANY EXTERNAL WEBSITES ✩

#fred weasly x reader #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley #harry potter x reader #harry potter smut #harry potter series #harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george weasely smut #fred weasley smut #sirius black #remus lupin #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy smut #hogwarts au #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts game #ron weasly x reader #hermione x reader #dramione #harry x draco #draco x hermione #wolfstar #sirius x remus #james potter

[kaciebello]

Love accusations

Masterlist

George Weasley x Gryffindor! reader (fem)

Summary: 3 instances where you deny dating George, and the one where you don’t. Much to Fred's dismay.

warnings: Mention of sex, swearing, no use of y/n

Authors note: one-shot. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

Word count: 3k

A pair of Gryffindor sat on a sofa in a secluded part of the common room.  The two had previously worked on their charms homework together, however, one had seemingly finished and moved on to a book, while the other one took avoiding it as his main mission in life. However, any attempt to get a reaction from the girl goes unnoticed by her. Disappointed he returned to doing his homework. They both fail to notice his twin approaching with their friend.

“You two ARE having sex!” Fred yells making some heads in the common room turn in their direction with curiosity.  George jumps a bit in shock and looks at his brother. eyes widening.

“Really? George, why didn't you tell me? I would have put my book down.” Says the girl lazily not even attempting to put her book down. She was not even bothered enough to pick up her gaze from it or bothered by her friend's antics.

“ We are not!” George argues back as Fred and Lee sit down opposite the couple. That however goes flat to their ears. Because if there is something Fred loves more than testing his brothers, it's teasing his twin brother.

“Fred, the only people having sex here, are the characters in my book.” She says, turning to another page. George leans over and tries to peek whether that is true or not. The girl shuts the book with a loud bang and places it gently on the table. Now finally giving all the attention to the overly loud Gryffindor duo. Lee's hand reaches for the book but she just swats it away.

“What do you want.” She asks.

“I want, you two to admit you're dating.” He says pointing a finger between her and George.

“Not gonna happen Fred.” 

“Why not?”

“ Because we are not dating, easy as that.”

“Bullshit!” Fred yells and slams his fist onto the coffee table. She leans back into the sofa and just shakes her head dissapointly. Kicking her feet up on the coffee table and crosses her hands over her chest.

“You have no valid argument, Fred. I will not debate this with you if you have no evidence.” She says looking into Fred's eyes, knowing damn well it will fire the boy up. He narrows his eyes at her and nods as if telling her he will play her little game. Quickly he turns to Lee and they start whispering sometimes glancing at the pair. The two of them made it look like they just thought of a groundbreaking strategy in quidditch.

“ You know what you're doing, right?” George leans back and looks at the girl. Giving up on the homework at this point. She just smirks and nods. Lee and Fred turn back and simultaneously clear their throats.

“We have proof.” He says seriously and pokes Lee in his side with his elbow. The girl just raises her eyebrow before motioning them to continue. Lee sits up straight.

“ I have seen you two almost kiss in the corridor before.” He says very proud of himself. Fred started franticly nod and a smile spread across his face. Gorges's eyes widen a little at this information. The girl, however, remained unphased.

“ You can't prove that it was us. I could have been anyone.” She argues back, looking at her nails, seemingly bored. Fred's smile flatters a bit before he jumps up.

“I CAN RECOGNISE MY FACE ANYWHERE!” He yells and points at the girl. She just lifts her gaze and him.

“You didn't see us tho. Lee did. Hence, could have been anyone.” Fred's and George's faces snap to Lee who gulps very loudly. Looking nervous between the two brothers and the girl. Lee felt like in the front line of a war.

“ We walked together to the library after tho.” He says.

“ You walked together to the library after!” Fred repeats seeing this as his victory. Placing his hands on his hips and making a superhero pose. The girl just sighs and takes her legs off of the coffee table.

“ Are you jealous about me almost kissing George? Fine. I can almost kiss Lee if you want. Even you if you desire so much.”  Whine leaves Geroge as Fred and Lee watch the girl in confusion.

“What.”

“You heard me, Weasley.” She says before getting up from her comfortable spot. Both Lee and Fred move a few inches back. She just chuckles and goes to pack her things. George sees this and goes to do the same.

“Plus it couldn't be me kissing George, as I fancy someone else.” She says after picking her book from the table and placing it in her bag.

“You do?” Say all 3 boys at the same time. She just rolls her eyes at their antics and turns to leave. George hurriedly followed her.

“ Where are you going?” Fred asks as both of them get up and move toward the exit. She just flashes him a smile.

“ To almost kiss your brother in the corridor.”

—

The four of them were on their way to Hogsmeade. The snow as fallen in a thick  layer and all there was to do was some shopping. The twins wanted to buy some trinkets from Zonks, while Lee and the girl had only butter beer on their minds. Walking swiftly to get from the cold and hoping their younger siblings don't catch up on them and they would be forced to take them with. Fred and Lee led the group, while the other two were falling behind. Fred and Lee could be heard from miles away. George opted for a much quieter conversation with his partner.

“ When are we going to tell him?” asks George the girl next to him. “Don't get me wrong, it's hilarious, but I miss holding your hand.” He continues and his hand brushes over hers. Although he dubs she could feel it over her gloves. To be fair, George finds it as much fun as she does. He just sometimes misses her despite being right next to her.

“You can hold my hand whenever you want to, but, It's too much fun, it's like he's obsessed.” A smile spreads across her lips as she stops her movements and looks at the boy. He also stops and looks at the girl. Her hand extends to him as a gentle offering. He takes it as fast as he can. Walking closer to her, he places his other hand on her cheek.  Smile adored both of them, as George leaned in, Smack.

Crumbs of snowball have fallen on her face, a giggle escaped her. George wipes his head around to see his brother and friend both with loaded-up snowballs. Before he can react, two more hit him. Effectively stunning him.

“OI! Hurry up you lovebirds!” yells Lee before he and Fred run in the direction of Three Broomsticks. George just curses and runs behind them. Leaving the girl to leisurely walk and meet them there.

When she got here, all of them had already shed their outdoor layers and had butterbeers sitting in front of them. One was in a space next to George waiting for her. She took her scarf and coat off. Something perked up Fred's attention.

“Is this your way of telling us?” He says pointing between her and George. 

“Telling you what?” She asks, sitting down. Not even being able to take a sip of her drink before Fred spits other nonces.

“That you two are together.” Lee is however faster and suppresses his friend in the explanation. The girl just rolls her eyes before taking a sip. A foam mustache forms on her upper lip that she quickly wipes with the sleeve of her sweater. Momentarily stopping to progress something.

“ Guys, we have been over this.” Defends George this time. Fred just narrowed his eyes at him before pointing at the girl, who was still frozen.

“Explain this then!” He says and grabs the sleeve of the sweater she was wearing. “ This is your sweater!!” Sudden touch wakes the girl up and she retracts her hand.

“Again Fred, you can't prove that.” He looks at her in disbelief, lost for words from the sheer audacity of this girl. Groan leaves George and Lee is just laughing at his friends' antics.

“Oh? So the giant G on the front doesn't mean anything?” Recovers Fred rather quickly. George chokes on his butter beer and Lee goes to pat him on the back. The girl looks down and stretches the sweater. There is indeed a giant G on it. No dubbed Mrs. Weasly work as always. She wondered if she did it to help herself to keep track of whose laundry she was doing.

“It's just a G, could mean anything.” leaves her.

“G for George.”

“ Or G for Ginny, ya know? Your sister.” She says, raising her eyebrow at him.

“Why would you have my sister's sweater?” he asks accusingly. She just shrugs and takes another sip from her drink. 

“ Why would I have George's one? I don't like him like that.” When she says it like that it makes sense for her to have Ginnys' sweater more than Georges.

“So you do like him!” Lee jumps on the accusation train. Another groan leaves George and he finishes his drink.

“Just how I like you, and Fred, and Padma, and Harry, And-”

“ Okay, okay, I get it.” Freds gives up and takes a sip. A smirk spreads on his face. “ So tell us, who do you fancy?”

“Hmmm, well, truth to be told, he's a Gryffindor, tall, and very cheeky and his name is- WELL would you look at that! I will get us another round.” She says and gets up from her spot. Knowing better than to take Fred's bait, she walked away to the bar. She can hear Fred turning to Lee and George.

“I'm telling you it's George, You can't fight me on this one!” Georges's giggles are heard throughout the tavern. “ Motherfucker, you ain't telling us shit!”

—

A scream is heard throughout the burrow, together with fast steps going down the stairs.

Harry, Hermione, and Lee turn to the sound startled. The 3 Weasleys, however, not even looking up from their card game. Fred places one card down making Ginny frown and carefully study her own. Ron just curses under his breath.

The girl appeared first with the other twin on her toes. She stops in front of the group, eyes gleaming with victory. George stops once he notices the other people, opting to just stand behind her.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asks, Placing her own card down without even looking. Ron curses again and tries to peak at Harry's cards. He just presses them to his chest, preventing him.

“Yeah, why?” The girl asks, clearly out of breath from running from the much faster boy behind her.

“ The scream?” Harry says, not really sure he wants to join the conversation. She just waves her arms at them.

“Oh no, don't worry. It's something George did.” The boy behind her straightens at his name. Looking at his sister who seemed to be winning the game with almost no effort.

“ Oh Merlin, he finally did it. He showed her the birthday suit.” Fred says.

“and it was SMALL.” Followed Lee, Fred's head snapped to his friend, he took full offense to that. Hemione's face twists in disgust. A small ‘ew’ can be heard from Ginny before she places another card on the table. Ron makes a fake gaging sound and George had nothing better than ‘dude’. The girl laughs at this.

“Oh Lee, I love you so much,” she says and goes to hug him. George whines and stops her by grabbing her upper arm.

“I can confirm that is not true mate.” Says Fred with full confidence. George just shakes his head. Hermione decided to force her cards on Harry, who was not very happy about it, and got up.

“I'm going to make some tea, you want some?” She says to the girl, she just nods and follower her to the kitchen. 

“ Count me in!” Says Ginny as she places her last card on the table, successfully winning the game. Her brothers and friends just groan. Ron looks like he might cry at this point.

The girls moved to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was looking out the window, watching her older sons and husband work in the yard. She notices them walking into the kitchen and smiles at them. Ginny mentions something about tea and the girls sit down. After some time and bickering over what does and does not belong in tea, steaming cups were sat before them. Hermione breaks the silence.

“So, when are you gonna announce it?” Confused look from the girl, Mrs. Weasly just glances at them, seemingly paying them no mind. While she may be facing the window, her years are very much facing the three girls sitting at her dining table. Because be assured if something is going on with her children, under her roof, she is bound to know. The girls didn't even have time to answer before Ginny jumped in.

“Wait, are not just pretending to not know in front of Fred?” She asked, confused as well. Hermione stops putting sugar in her tea and fully turns to the girl. She grabs her hands into hers and looks her in the eyes.

“Are you?” The girl grows nervous. Curse Ginny and her watching people skills.

“I have no idea what you're on about Hermione.” she says with a full chest, then leans in and whispers.” Let's not talk about it in front of his mum!”

“Stop whispering, we all know something is going on between you and George. I know my brothers, and I know when they have that lovesick look.” Ginny blows on her tea before taking a sip. Somehow she manages to give both of them a pointed look. 

“I know what you look like with that look too, don't start Ginny.” says the horrified girl, still not comfortable that Mrs. Weasly is there. Ginny goes red and just looks away. Speaking of the older woman, she turns to them.

“ Who has a lovesick look?” She asks with a smile that feels a little bit too threatening to all of them, although others may see it as the sweetest one.

“You when you look at dad. What is he doing anyway.” Ginny says hoping to change the subject. The older woman just huffs, turns around, and looks out the window again. Ginny leans forward to the other two before she whispers.

“I'm just saying, let it really be my sweater you borrow next time.” A smirk on her lips when she retries. With the corner of her eye, she sees her brother trying to catch a glimpse of the embarrassed girl.

—

“Source?” Lee asks.

“ Dude, trust me,” Fred answers.

“ You know I am physically unable to do that.” The two boys were hiding behind a bush. Good view of the pair sitting on the bench.

“ I too was advised, not to trust you.” Pipes in Collin, who was dragged into this mess by an accident. The poor boy wanted a picture of that tiny firework Fred had, instead, he dragged him to this when he refused to let him borrow his camera.

“Collin, this is the talk. This is the news! I need you to take a picture of them when they kiss.” Says Fred, a creepy grin on his face. Collin scared a bit just nods his head and gets in position. After a few good minutes of spying, Fred gets impatient and turns to Lee.

“Should we find a better spot? My feet kinda hurt from squatting.” He says but then a shutter goes off. A little photo comes from the camera and Fred grabs it.

“AHA, GOT YOU!” he jumps out waving it in the air and running to the startled couple. Scaring the couple that jumps away from each other a little. Lee and Collin follow behind him.

“What are you on about Fred?” Asks him, George. Still holding the girl that had her legs on his lap. 

“ YOU TWO! KISSING! I GOT PROOF!” HE yells and shows them the picture. The girl just grabs it and looks at it. Fred is jumping up and down, hugging Collin and then Lee. Victory celebration. The girl gets up and walks to the poor younger Gryffindor. George is pulled up by Fred and forced to join a jumping hug.

“Hey Collin, can I keep this?” She asks the boy gently. He just nods, seemingly scared of the situation. The girl turns back to the three overgrown babies smile on her face. She can no longer argue about proof, as she was holding one in her hand. She turns to Collin again and tells him he can go. The boy just nods and runs away as fast as he can, very much terrified of his upperclassmen. 

 George wiggles out of the hug and makes his way to her. Cheers can be heard from his brother and friend. When they meet again, George stops right in front of her. One of his hands finds her waist and the other on her neck. They stay like this for a few seconds seemingly in their word, not noticing the cheers dying down. He leans in, their lips brush, when...

“Not in front of me Forge!” Yells Fred with the girl in his arms, running away with laughter, followed by Lee. George was frozen in his position, the girl missing from his arms. George shakes his head at his brothers' antics. Now that he looks at it, maybe living in denial wasn't the worst thing. Because if there is anything his twin loves more than teasing other people, is teasing him.

#george weasley #george weasley fic #george weasley x fem #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #george wealsey x reader #weasley twins #weasly twins #fred and goerge weasley #harry potter fandom #fem reader #x reader #hogwarts au #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #harry potter #harry potter au #fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #fred weasely x y/n #george wealsey imagine #ginny weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley #lee jordan

[gods-graveyard]

"No one can tell the Weasley Twins apart" may be true, but with a few key exceptions.

_____________________________________________________________

McGonagall- She's iconic, and also how dare you imply she cannot tell two of her students apart, thats just blasphemy.

Lee Jordan- His best mates (and they told him)

Elisen Nott- Her best mates (and they didn't tell her, she learned out of spite)

Percy Weasley- They're his brothers, he really can't understand why no one else can tell

Oliver Wood- Quidditch, no elaboration.

Marcus Flint- Oliver & Percy told him how, and Quidditch.

Harry Potter- The vibes (Their freckles)

Theo Nott- The vibes (Magical signature)

Luna Lovegood- The vibes (but actually)

This is all based on my fic @yellow_sprouts on ao3 called "Navigating the den of snakes" and with the twins being introduced next chapter I thought I would go ahead and give a lil fun snip (although Theos is a minor spoiler)

#weasley twins #george weasley #fred weasley #i do out of order on purpose #ao3 harry potter #harry potter #weasley family #hp angst #hp au #hp fic rec #hp fanfic #ao3 fanfic #slytherin harry potter #minerva mcgonagall #lee jordan #elisen nott #oc #percy weasley #oliver wood #quidditch #marcus flint #harry potter fanfiction #theodore nott #luna lovegood

[that-one-raccoon]

"Hell’s Hounds"

“Hell Hounds,” Dazai said. “We’ll be the Hell Hounds."

He wrote it in bold, chalk letters across the top of the blackboard.

Hell Hounds

Then, he paused. "Well, you’re the Hell Hounds. I’m just...”

“Hell,” Ron supplied unhelpfully.

Instead of pulling a face, like Ron probably expected, Dazai beamed. “You’re right! It’s more like ‘Hell’s Hounds’ then, isn’t it? With an apostrophe.”

In the small space between the word Hell and Hounds, Dazai drew in a tiny 's. He had to write it crooked to make it fit.

Hell's Hounds, it read proudly.

“Hell’s Hounds gang...” Hermione tasted the name on her tongue. “It’s a bit dark, though?”

“It has a nice ring to it,” the twins cheered, “Hell’s Hounds!”

Hell’s Hounds... Dazai could agree it had a certain charm to it. A little threatening, a little rebellious. Just the right name for a mafioso’s gang of schoolchildren.

-- Coil, Chapter 7: Hell's Hounds by Allegory_for_Hatred

ref pic:

#hell’s hounds #m&m hell’s hounds #magic and mystery #coil #m&m dazai #m&m draco malfoy #m&m blaise zabini #m&m hermione granger #m&m ron weasley #m&m fred weasley #m&m george weasley #and Featherbrain #i love her #my art #that-one-raccoon’s art #fanfic au #ao3

[naurimastaur]

A prank to die for

1980s slasher au featuring the Weasley twins//

Summary: With camp’s annual house competition coming to a close, the twins take the fate of their team into their own hands, employing Fred’s nemesis Y/N along the way. Things go awry however, when someone tries to axe their plans. Literally.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!reader

This is a bit of a long one so strap in! Ps. Requests are open

———————————————————————

Squashed between the most frustrating person alive and the wall of the abandoned outhouse toilet, was not the ideal midnight rendezvous anyone would have in mind.

“Why hasn’t George signalled to you yet? It’s been half an hour.” Y/n huffed, her head pressed against the damp wood of the wall in exasperation before she thought better of herself.

“Could’ve ran into a lovely lady on the way,” Fred replied equally agitated. “None of your sort I’d hope, wouldn’t be very enjoyable.”

“You are a freak why am I doing this with you?” She spat, venom dripping from her every word.

“Cant resist the charm, I reckon”

“Then you’re as delusional as you are ginger.”

“And yet you don’t seem to be backing out of the idea. Could it be that you wanted this alone time with me?”

“I think I’d rather be chased by a serial killer.”

“If only a serial killer hated themself enough to waste time running after you.” He smiled to himself, her irritation fuelling his triumph.

She bit her tongue, thinking back to the moment she made herself a professional clown.

———————————————————————-

“Y/n!” George called out, jogging to meet her walking pace, Fred tailing him. “We have a proposition for you. A real win-win deal.”

“We? As in him too?” She signalled toward Fred, who’s head was bowed in deep shame like a disobedient dog.

“Yes we,” George elbowed Fred before continuing. “It was his idea actually to include you.” Now that was interesting.

“The house competition ends tomorrow and it seems the trophy is missing.” Fred rubbed his previous attacked arm before continuing. “We know that Tom from your house has it hidden somewhere, and you know exactly where it is.”

“And? Why would I help you betray my own team?.”

“Because we all know Tom is a massive prick who needs humiliating, and he’d deserve it too with everything he said about you.” George looked at her meaningfully.

“At midnight tonight you will help us get it from his cabin, and George will set up the distractions.”

She was horrified at that. “Why cant you do the distracting? If I’m doing this, I’m doing it with George.”

“He can’t do much distracting when he’s the less handsome twin,” George winked. “Besides, I’m the fireworks expert.”

“This is all for the sake of a prank isn’t it? The two of you are ridiculous.”

“Pranking is within our nature,” Fred shrugged. “It would be cruel to suppress it.”

“Are you two used to people listening to the utter shite you speak, or am I the only one with the misfortune?” They both grinned at this.

“Fine. Yes. Okay, I’ll do it.”

———————————————————————

The silence was eating away at her faith. This didn’t feel right, everything was quiet. Too quiet. She couldn’t hear the chirping of the crickets, or the rustling of leaves stuck in the wind’s embrace.

“Fred we should really go and check on him. This isn’t right.”

Fred wasn’t a stranger to the feeling; in fact he felt like that every time he was parted from George. Half of his soul, half of him. It was never right, but he wasn’t ignorant to what she was feeling either.

They took off towards George’s hideout, before Fred came to an abrupt stop.

“What? What’s wrong? What is it?” She questioned with haste, before noticing a flashlight flickering on the forest ground. It was blinking in urgency; on and off and on and off. It was aggressively bright, flooding the area surrounding with artificial light. That was supposed to be George’s signal. Where is he?

“Well that’s creepy as shit,” Fred commented, taking a casual notice of a distant figure lingering just beyond the light’s touch.

George must’ve leaked our plan. He thought to himself. Useless git.

The figure began approaching however, with heavy rushing footsteps. Fred placed a protective arm in front of y/n on instinct, he felt nauseated that his natural instinct was to do anything of the sort. To her.

He stepped ahead, placing himself only a few feet away from the new person. He was close enough now to see them fully.

They had the build of a man with broad shoulders and a muscular frame. There were no eyes on their face, just sunken regions of skin where some might have been, adorned with scarred tissue. Notably there was no mouth either, just a gaping hole were one was supposed to be; A mask.

“Alright mate from one prankster to another, the costume is overkill but I applaud the dedication.”

“Fred…”y/n began to urge. Her eyes beginning to adjust to the thing adjacent. How hadn’t she noticed before?

Fred threw a dismissive wave at her.

“Look, I do honour my pride but we could collaborate on this house prank. Double the effect of the humiliation, bigger win. I’m sure Tom would shit himself at the sight of you.”

“Fred!”

“Cant you see I’m networking here?” Fred scolded, oblivious.

“Fred look at it! I mean actually look!”

Fred saw it now; the skin loose and peeling from the sides of its face, that his brain had originally convinced itself was a mask. This wasn’t a costume and that wasn’t its face. This was a creature that was figuring out what a human face was supposed to look like, but it didn’t have all the materials and it wasn’t finished learning.

He took notice of the silver point peeking from beyond its coat. An axe. A thick crimson red coating it’s blade like a second skin.

“Y/n RUN!”

“No shit!”

———————————————————————

Racing after Fred’s physical and vocal lead, the thought of her imminent death became all too plausible. Their voices were intwined in a harmonious plead for help; to warn, to scare, to do something.

They reached the first cabin, their hearts beating in a rhythmic dance. Her focus on their escape delaying the urge to search her surroundings. Or rather, lack of.

“Fred?”

“Yes?”

“Where is everyone?”

“What do you mean? They’re in their bunks surely. We’ll need to get everyone out immediately.”

“Right, and where are we?”

“The bunks.”

“And who’s here?”

Fred’s head snapped up in disbelief, noticing the empty beds around him. Before logic could grace his one remaining braincell’s lonely existence, he raced outside.

Y/n sank to her knees, reality hitting. The thump of Fred’s urgent knocks at each cabin matching the pounding in her head. Everyone was gone.

She got up, raw determination pumping in her veins like adrenaline. They needed to get to the kitchens. There would be knives there, a heavy bolted door. There they stood a chance.

———————————————————————

“Oh look you weren’t that far off with the serial killer joke earlier, you just forgot to mention the massive bloody axe he’s carrying!” Fred snarled at her, his voice hoarse from the terror clawing at his throat. The earlier fear was well gone now, the two of them already returning back to their usual bickering.

“Why the fuck is he chasing us for?” She whisper yelled at him, accusation laced in her tone, choosing to ignore his previous sarcastic remark.

“How the fuck should I know?” He shouted back, glaring at her in the process.

“I don’t know because you’re… you!” She argued, turning away from him and evaluating the cabin.

“My apologies then, it seems I left my psychic powers at home today!” He spat out, blocking the kitchen door with any object in his path.

“If he doesn’t kill you I’ll do it myself,” she huffed out, just for the sake of getting the last word in the argument.

Fred ran a hand through his shaggy hair in frustration, before taking notice of her still frame. She stood perfectly straight, like a puppet held up by its strings. Her hands clasped in a tight fist, the skin turning red from the tension.

“What?” He interrogated, purely annoyed by her presence but intrigued in her reaction all the same. “What is it?”

“If the campers aren’t here,” She turned to look at him, her eyes wide with fear. “Then who’s blood is that?”

He took notice of her face, once illuminated by the silver glow of the moonlight,now was masked by a deep maroon.

He followed her gaze, transfixed on the window in an involuntary daze. The glass was tainted red, blood gathering under it in a thick pool of bubbling heat. If it wasn’t coming from the inside, that could only mean one thing.

“We’re fucked.”

———————————————————————

A/n: I took an educational trip to a bench in the cemetery for inspo for this, just for my IBS to kick in and I had to run fifteen minutes home so I didn’t shit myself in front of the resting souls❤️ I will never try to be aesthetic again lesson learnt.

@thescrunkler @stock0hoim

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #80s movies #80s aesthetic #80s horror #scream #fear street #stranger things #slashers #horror #hp au #hp fandom #new writers on tumblr #slasher summer #halloween #spooky season #autumn #scream 6

[gimme-gimme-georgie-weasley]

The Weasley and his Cafe [G.W. x Reader]

Summary: George runs a little cafe in Diagon Alley

wc: 2.1k

a/n: i've actually had this idea in my drafts from April but never really bothered to finish it :') inspired by the time I went to a cosy little cafe and found the worker there really cuteehrjrhadsdjkasdkashdkhewastoooldforme. i love the idea of george starting up a cafe soo much

-

You hated Mondays. 

They seemed to suck the life out of you, one hour at a time. Long, winding hours that dragged on for centuries, doing hocus pocus groggily: like walking through thick sludge with weights tied to your ankles and eyelashes. So, to fix that, you found yourself strolling down Diagon Alley, looking for your fix of morning coffee. Just your luck, a new cafe had opened down the street. 

With the ring of a bell, a voice boomed from the far end of the little wizard-owned cafe.

“Welcome to Weasley’s Wonderful Waffles; we offer more than just waffles, though. Had to keep up the alliteration! But I assure you, our waffles are wicked.”

A tall, young man emerged from the back with an ivory espresso cup in one hand, and a cloth in the other. His freckled face stretched widely into a friendly smile. A cream-striped brown apron with a large “W” embroidered in green wrapped around his waist, his long red hair had been tied up into a topknot while long stray hairs framed his face. You could’ve sworn you saw a few piercings on his right ear.

The man then unsheathed his wand from his waistband, and, with the flick of a wrist, a chair slid out for you to sit on.

“Table for one, I presume?”

“Um! Yes, please.” 

You fiddled with the fleece of your coat, unsure of what to make of the lively interaction this early in the morning. The last time you checked your watch, which wasn't long ago, it had only been a quarter past seven. Where on Earth did this man's energy come from? “Lovely! The menu will talk to you shortly. I’ll be by the counter once you’re ready to order, love.” He said with a wink, and strode off.

Not long after, a shrill voice directed your attention to below you. The menu had grown a mouth and started listing out various pastries and drinks, though rather slowly. Do Monday Blues apply to talking menus? You thought to yourself.

The drag and sibilance had almost lulled you back to sleep before a “Weasley Latte” and “Wicked Waffle” jerked you awake. The dish names were certainly riveting. Just what exactly makes this latte a Weasley, and this waffle Wicked?

“I’ll have a Weasley Latte and a Wicked Waffle, please.” You said to the red-haired man at the counter not long after making your choice.

“Alright, that’ll be…” He fiddled with the cash-register that either barked or hissed each time he pressed a button, “1 Galleon, 12 Sickles, and 5 Knuts, dear.” He said with a delightful hum and looked up from the cash register to you with that same lovely smile.

For a brief moment, your eyes met. His were a lovely shade of hazel that glimmered in the morning sunlight that leaked through the blinds, revealing a deep chocolate shade underneath them, and before either of you could say a thing, a wave of customers dressed in Ministry robes swarmed the cafe engrossed in light chatter. You quickly pulled out the gold and silver from your purse with a flustered smile and scurried back off to your table by the window, muttering a quiet thank you.

He watched as you resigned yourself back to your table, amused at the interaction. His wide smile did not once falter.

It didn’t take long for you to be enamoured by the man’s cafe. 

Little trinkets that laid around on display occasionally burst out into life, flying around the cafe all the while putting a smile on the faces of customers. Magical portraits that hung around were either crocheting, enjoying a nice cuppa, or taking a catnap. You could’ve sworn there was a portrait of a man who looked exactly like him in deep sleep.

The counter housed a glass dish with coffee beans that smelled magical: a mix of chocolate and deep roasted notes. Fairy lights adorned the walls, adding to the warm and cosy atmosphere. Flowers came to life, engaging in conversation with people who seemed like they could use some company, and you were one of them.

Said flowers would occasionally mourn the dried flowers on display, “She was my best friend, she was. If only she hadn’t been so stubborn about that diet! Every flower knows they need to be watered every day, and not every three days!”

A vase of asphodels bubbled animatedly, each bud asked you about your day and asked if the waffles were really nice. You nodded politely and tried to offer a bud a bite of your waffles, but then remembered flowers probably couldn’t stomach waffles even if they tried.

“George is lovely, isn’t he?” One of the buds started as its leaves flailed around excitedly

“Terribly lovely!” A tiny sprout beside it giggled, “He always waters us with that lovely concoction! Makes my roots smoother.”

Ah, so his name’s George.

Then, before you knew it, you were back at the cafe the next week.

And the following.

Soon enough, you dropped by every day ordering the same Weasley Latte and the occasional waffle, and perhaps a glance or two at George. By then, you figured out what made a Weasley Latte a Weasley Latte was the extra spice it had to it. It tasted like nutmeg with hints of cinnamon and a spicy kick of ginger at the end. It really does the trick, waking you up and all.

George would drop by your table every now and then with a platter of different pastries in hand each time, saying it was “on the house” or "we had extra". You began to wonder who "we" was, because by the looks of it, he was the only one running the cafe, unless there was an elf with a Disillusionment charm running around. How he does it, you didn’t know; but he did a magnificent job running the cafe even during peak hours. You couldn’t help but admire that about him. He didn’t seem to crack under pressure and always wore that smile as if handling a hundred over customers was child’s play.

One particular day, the caffeine coursing through your veins had emblazoned you to do the unthinkable. Before George could walk off after the usual platter offering of enchanted eclairs this time, you spoke up.

“Um! Whatimed’youend?” You blurted out, face flushed.

Bloody brilliant. You ought to Scourgify your mouth and Obliviate yourself when you get home. Maybe invest in a Pensieve too, just to relive this memory every time you need to ground yourself.

“Sorry, dear? I didn’t quite catch that.” George cocked his head to the side.

You quickly composed yourself, “What time do you end?”

Was it even possible for the man’s smile to widen even further? Surely it couldn’t be. Nevertheless, he managed to grin twice as wide. He shoved his tea towel into the front pocket of his apron.

“Eleven. You can tell me all about yourself when I close up shop, love.” He said, winked, and walked off, leaving you in a stupor as he tended to a customer in need of a refill of water.

“Oh, goodness, Y/N’s in love.” The vase of asphodels cooed in a sing-song fashion.

“Am not!” You argued, but the wild grin on your face said otherwise as you tried to help yourself to the eclairs and now-tepid coffee. You should’ve casted a Stasis charm on it.

“Are too!” A pot of lilies giggled.

* * *

Eleven o'clock surprisingly came faster than you were actually ready for. Bloody hell, did someone speed up your watch? Nevertheless, you flattened out the creases in your clothes, checked yourself out in the mirror, and combed through your hair for the umpteenth time before finally heading out. 

Curse you, caffeine high.

You apparated with a crack in front of the cafe, and found him closing up. His back was turned to the window while he enchanted the mops and brooms to clean the floor. Chairs levitated and rested upside down on the tables. A couple of “Scourgify'' charms got rid of coffee stains and crumbs left behind by crumbly pastries.

His head then craned upwards to the vase of asphodels that whispered to him. Then, he quickly twirled around. You stood there, smiling awkwardly at him through the window as his mouth was left agape. He looked down at his watch, then back at you, then his hands flew up to his head in exasperation as though he had forgotten he left a fire-breathing dragon unattended in a wooden home.

“Oh, Merlin! I lost track of time! I’ll be with you shortly, dear!”

It was only five minutes past eleven, what was the rush?

Five minutes later, he came running out of the cafe with a few paper bags in hand and apron neatly shrunk and tucked away into his back pocket. The sleeves of his sweater were rolled up to his elbows, revealing his forearms. His hair was now out of the top-knot. It rested nicely on his broad shoulders, and framed his face even more delicately. He brushed a strand behind his ear, now revealing the piercings you had suspected were there. 

You quickly swallowed the lump in your throat and looked elsewhere before he caught you staring.

“Did you wait long?” He asked as he cast charms on the shop.

“Not really, it’s alright.” You said as he muttered the last few charms, completely thief-proofing it.

After sheathing his wand in his waistband, he stuck out his arm in an offer for you to take it as the two of you began your trip down the alley and to nowhere in particular.

Then, silence befell the two of you as you walked down the streets of Diagon Alley. The moon was in full view as stars glimmered in the night sky. The sound of your heels clicking down the cobbled pathway of the street echoed throughout the now-quiet town. In the corner of your eye, you saw Madam Malkin closing up shop.Ollivander’s was already closed. Eeylops Owl Emporium was still open, surprisingly.

“You know, I never really caught your name,” George started, breaking the silence, “Oh, and before I forget, these are for you.”

He reached out, offering you a white paper bag with the same green “W” that was on his apron.

“Eclairs, dear. I saw you eating them with a lot of gusto.” He chuckled.

“I– Oh my goodness–,” You flushed, “I’m Y/N, by the way. You’re George, right? The flowers talk about you a lot.” you managed out as you accepted the paper bag.

George’s face brightened.

“Indeed, I am! And you’re from Hogwarts, too, aren’t you? I think I remember you getting your cauldron stuck to the table in fifth year potions, was it? Cost your house a fortune for that from Snape, didn’t you?” He said, eyes twinkling with each word that came out.

You stayed quiet for a few seconds in awe. How on earth did he remember that? That was, what? Aeons ago? 

And soon, the night was spent walking aimlessly as you both recounted your years at Hogwarts. He rambled about his family, the shop, and quidditch. (“The Irish team remain undefeated, I dare say!”) You rambled on and on about your freelance writing career and a novel you were itching to publish. Neither of you really seemed to touch on the war. It was best that way. 

You both shared a particular distaste for the Daily Prophet, and had shared horrible experiences with Rita Skeeter.

“Honestly, I can’t stand her! Did you know? My sister-in-law found out she was an unlicensed Animagus in her fourth year and held her captive in a glass jar? Brilliant, she is.”

“By sister-in-law, you mean Hermione Granger? Minister for Magic? That’s wonderful, George.” 

Your head craned down over to your watch, then over to your front door. You must have subconsciously walked the path home while in deep conversation with him.

“Well, George. Thanks for the night. It’s been lovely– you’ve been lovely. Well, here’s my house.” You said sheepishly as the two of you stood outside your door facing each other.

He chuckled, “You’ve been quite lovely yourself.”

Silence. 

Then,

“No, you’ve been really, really, lovely. The free pastries, the wonderful lattes– I mean what on earth is it that you put inside it? It’s magical, that’s what it is– and your cafe’s interior design is just brilliant–” You found yourself rambling like a hormonal teenage girl confessing her love to her crush. Then, a hand found its way to your cheek, cupping it as his face leaned into your ear, with barely a whisper.

“Don’t worry, I fancy you too.”

A quick peck was placed. He winked that same signature wink that left you weak in the knees. Then, he Disapparated, smiling at you with that stupidly beautiful smile.

The sound of the crack echoed and lingered for a while, ringing in your ears as did those six words that left you speechless.

Then, the ringing faded out and clarity came crashing in like a tsunami. It hit like a stunning spell.

“He fancies me, too.”

--

#george weasley #george weasley fluff #george weasley imagine #george weasley oneshot #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter imagine #george weasley x reader #george runs a cafe #flirty george weasley #talking flowers #cafe au #george weasley/you #george weasley headcanon

[lumosandnoxwriting]

say my name and everything just stops || George Weasley

Title: say my name and everything just stops Pairing: George x Reader Summary: George didn’t expect being fake engaged to the love of his life whose heart he broke would be this easy. But as they put their plan into action, he’s surprised at how seamlessly she fits into his life. It feels as if no time has passed as they settle into a routine, and it feels like she was always meant to be there by his side. It’s hard to keep a grasp on the original goal, when all he can think about is how much he’s already dreading having to say goodbye. But as a new scheme starts to come together in his head, there may be a way for George to get everything that he wants.  Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, a scene takes place at a bar and one mention of a hangover!  A/N: part 2 of hockey!george is here! I did a bit of restructuring to this part and the next, but I’m very happy with the way the story is coming together! As always feedback is welcome! <3

-

“Thank you again for doing this,” George says for what feels like the millionth time today. But it still doesn’t feel like enough. Y/N has upended her entire life for him, and he still has no idea why she agreed to this whole charade. 

After spending a few days in Washington to figure out some of the logistics of Y/N moving, which included George getting on his knees to beg Fred to take over her lessons at the rink, they’re finally back in Chicago. Thankfully Y/N’s actual job in marketing is remote, and George already arranged to have a desk and whatever else she may need delivered sometime this week. 

He had his assistant stock the apartment with all of the things Y/N used to love, including her favorite snacks and several fuzzy blankets, and he signed the contract for Y/N’s car service this morning before they got on the plane. George has even already added her to his Amex account, and the black card with her name on it should be here any day now.

George has money to spend, and there’s no one else he’d rather spoil than Y/N.

”You really can stop saying that,” Y/N reminds him as she follows him through the front door. “It was cute at first, but now it’s just kind of annoying.”

”Sorry, I know. You’ve had to sacrifice way more than me for this stupid arrangement and I feel bad that I’ve basically uprooted your life. I don’t deserve any of the shit you’re doing for me and I just wanna make sure you know how much I appreciate it.”

”George, it’s really okay. I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t want to be here.” 

In all honesty, Y/N feels a little guilty over how accommodating George has been. She’s not really here to help him out, but to figure out whether her life has become the plot of a book and she’s about to get her second chance at love or if she’s about to break her own heart. Either way, she’s not here out of the goodness of her heart, and George’s kindness is undeserved. 

“Right, okay,” George gives Y/N a grin, before motioning for her to follow him. “I had my assistant clear some of my stuff out of the dresser and closet so there should be plenty of room for your things,” he explains as he leads Y/N down the hall towards his bedroom. “This space is ours now, and I want you to feel like it is too.”

As soon as they step through the door Y/N is hit with the scent of him and it nearly knocks her on her ass. Because George still uses the same cologne he did in high school, and it reminds her of home. She used to steal the bottle when he went away for games, covering her bed in it so it would feel like he was there with her at night. Now she’ll be surrounded by that scent 24/7 and she’s not sure her heart is ready for that. 

George drags the suitcase he’d been rolling into his closet disappearing for a second before he pops back out. “I only have a one bedroom, I uh, never really thought about having to share my space with someone,” he admits sheepishly. “But you can take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Y/N shakes her head. “No, George, I’m not taking your bed. The season’s about to start, you need to be well rested and there’s no way sleeping on a couch for weeks will be sufficient.” She gives him an appraising look, taking in his broad frame. George has always been big, but time has done him well and his build has really filled out. 

“Besides, I don’t think there’s a couch in this world big enough to fit all of you,” she continues, and Y/N can feel the blush creeping up on her cheeks. “You stay in your bed, I can sleep on the couch.”

”Absolutely not,” George insists, taking a step closer to her. “You’re my guest, and I’m not going to have you sleeping on the couch.”

Y/N bites her lip, already regretting what she’s about to suggest. “Well then if you’re not going to let me sleep on the couch and I’m not going to let you sleep on the couch, we’ll just have to share the bed.”

Her suggestion takes George by surprise, and his jaw clenches to keep it from dropping. He was already questioning whether he’d be able to survive sharing space with Y/N, but sharing a bed? His cock is rock hard at just the thought of smelling her shampoo on his pillow. 

“Are you sure?” He manages to stutter out, running a hand through his hair. 

“I mean it’s big enough,” she responds, gesturing towards the bed. It’s got to be King sized, with a thick black comforter that’s sure to reek of George that Y/N wants to wrap herself up in. “We’ll probably barely even touch.”

“As long as you’re fine with it, I am too,” George agrees. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

”It’ll be fine George,” Y/N lies, giving him a grin that she hopes is genuine. 

Fake engaged to and sharing a bed with the man she loves that broke her heart? Yeah everything is definitely not fine. 

-

After a torturous first night together, Y/N thanks the heavens that George is up and out early for the first day of training camp the next morning. Because despite all of her reassurances yesterday, sharing a bed with George Weasley is the worst idea she ever had. 

Despite the size of the bed, George is massive, and as soon as he laid down next to her she could feel the heat radiating off of his body. It doesn’t help that she was completely enveloped in his scent, and her pussy was throbbing with need from the moment she crawled under the blanket. It took her hours to fall asleep, her body rigid as George tossed and turned as well. It wasn’t until his breathing evened out that Y/N finally managed to close her eyes and relax. 

Only for her to wake up a few hours later to George’s arm wrapping around her waist before he pulled her into his chest. Turns out all these years later he’s still a cuddler. Being back in his embrace was too intoxicating to deny, and Y/N laid awake for over an hour, just letting George hold her as his breath ghosted across her neck. It felt achingly familiar, and she didn’t want to give it up. 

But she knew things would be awkward if George woke up to find her in his arms, so after getting her fill Y/N wiggled her way out of his hold. She stuffed a pillow into his chest for good measure, needing to keep his arms occupied so she didn’t find herself caught in his embrace again. Y/N doubts she would have had the willpower to pull away a second time. 

Y/N is up and out of bed the second her alarm goes off, electing not to stay buried under the covers while she scrolls social media like she usually does. Just the smell of George has her wet and if she lays there for another moment Y/N knows she’ll have her hand down her pants, touching herself as she buries her nose in George’s pillow like a weirdo. 

She wanders out to the kitchen, taking advantage of being alone so she can snoop around. Last night George had assured her that this is her space now too and she’s welcome to anything, but it felt weird going through his things with him around. Apart from finding where he keeps his dishes and a cursory look in the fridge for a drink Y/N didn’t do too much exploring. 

So when she opens George’s pantry, she’s surprised to find it filled with all of the things she loves. A brand new box of her favorite cereal sits right next to the granola George puts in his yogurt in the morning, and her favorite chips and cookies are mixed in with the kinds that George prefers. It all feels so natural, and Y/N slams the door shut as she struggles to catch her breath. 

Because fuck, this is the life she always imagined having with George, and none of it is real. This is the life Y/N has always wanted, and yet it’s still not really hers - something she has to remember. There’s a very real possibility that once George makes Captain they will go their separate ways for the last time, and she has to be prepared for that. 

Deciding to avoid the pantry for now, Y/N wanders to the fridge and pulls out the things to make an omelet. She’s just starting to whisk the eggs and deciding whether she should work from the kitchen island or the couch when the doorbell rings. George hadn’t mentioned anyone stopping by, and Y/N remains cautious as she goes to open the door. Some part of her fears that some crazed fan or ex-lover of George’s will be waiting on the other side, but a sigh of relief leaves her body when she checks the peephole and it’s just a few delivery people. 

No more Criminal Minds for her. 

“Hi Mrs. Weasley,” one of the men greets when Y/N opens the door, and she’s too shocked to correct him. Her knees shake as she steps aside to let them in, her mind still focused on how good it felt to be called by George’s last name. “We’ve got the things your husband ordered, it shouldn’t take too long for us to set it all up.”

“Okay,” Y/N says hesitantly as the men start to bring a few boxes into the apartment. She’s a little unsure about letting these people in since George didn’t say anything about a delivery, but Y/N knows the security here is intense and they wouldn’t have been let into the building if there was something weird going on. “You know where everything is going?”

The first man nods, giving her a smile. “Yes, your husband was very clear when he placed the order a few days ago. We’ll be in and out so quickly you’ll barely even know we were here.”

Y/N nods, gesturing towards the kitchen as the men head towards the dining room. “Alright, well, if you need anything I’ll be in there.”

She shoots off a quick text to George as she walks, knowing she’s unlikely to get a response. But it makes her feel better that at least someone will know other people came into the apartment in the event that this really is an elaborate ruse to kidnap her. 

Y/N: hey! Hope hockey stuff is good - just wanna let you know the delivery people are here setting up whatever you ordered

When a response doesn’t come through Y/N tucks her phone back into her pocket and refocuses her attention on breakfast. She’s just plating up her omelet and toast when the man from before appears in the kitchen. 

“We’re all done here if you just want to take a look to make sure everything looks good before you confirm delivery.”

“Uh, sure,” Y/N agrees, following him into the other room. 

When George gave her a tour last night the dining room had virtually nothing in it. There was some artwork on the walls, a small table with a few chairs with a fake plant tucked in the corner and a lamp in the other. Which made total sense to Y/N, since George lives alone and has an island with barstools for him to eat at, he hasn’t really needed a fully functioning dining space. 

Which is why her jaw practically drops when the man leads her into the dining room. The small table is gone, and in its place is a gorgeous wooden desk with the softest looking chair Y/N has ever seen behind it. There’s two large bookcases against the back wall, and there’s a plush carpet covering the floor. Tears prick the corner of her eyes, and Y/N runs a hand along the glossy desk just to make sure it’s real. 

“Does everything look okay?”

Y/N spins around to face the man who she forgot was even there. Swallowing the emotion crawling up her throat, she gives a curt nod. “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

The man gives her a smile and thrusts out a clipboard. “I just need a signature and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

She signs without even looking, her attention back on the office George created for her. After their breakup Y/N couldn’t fathom when her sweet, loving boyfriend turned into the heartless person that dumped her so carelessly. It’s just starting to hit her that maybe the George she knew wasn’t really gone after all, just hidden behind a facade. 

Once the door shuts behind the delivery crew Y/N makes her way behind the desk, sinking back into the plush chair. Her apartment back home isn’t big enough for her to have a dedicated office space and she often works from her kitchen table or couch, and Y/N had been totally fine with doing the same at George’s. So the fact that he’s gone and made Y/N her own space in his apartment has her heart pounding in her chest. 

She fires off another text to George. 

Y/N: the delivery people just left and holy shit, George. You really didn’t need to do this for me. I love it, thank you.

They must be on a break, because a few minutes later as Y/N is opening her laptop to start working George responds. 

George: ah shit, sorry, i totally forgot to mention the delivery last night.

George: we can go out and get different artwork or decorations or whatever. I meant what i said last night, this is our space now and i want you to feel at home

George: and i know i didnt need to, i wanted to :)

She’s already starting to fall back in love with George Weasley, and Y/N is not sure she’ll be able to stop.

-

Things get easier to navigate as the week goes on. 

That first night when George got home from training camp it had been awkward, neither of them really sure how to navigate this interesting relationship. On one hand, they’re technically engaged and it should be expected for them to act somewhat like a couple while at home. But on the other hand, they haven’t been around each other in years and it kind of felt like two strangers living under the same roof. 

But they slowly started to get into a routine. George is always up first, and before he leaves for camp he puts on a fresh pot of coffee so it’s still warm and fresh by the time Y/N gets up too. They usually text throughout the day whenever George has the chance, discussing what to do for dinner or to just share something about their day. George gets home at 4 everyday, and Y/N has a protein shake waiting for him on the counter while she finishes up with work. Then they cook dinner together, moving around the kitchen effortlessly while they talk about their days. 

Dinner is always eaten in the living room while they watch something on TV. George cleans up the kitchen while Y/N empties his hockey bag, throwing his sweaty gear into the washing machine before repacking his bag with fresh athletic gear and a clean practice jersey. They get ready for bed together, standing at the his and hers sinks in the bathroom as they brush their teeth. George is usually the first to fall asleep, and Y/N will read or scroll on her phone until she too goes to bed, and then they wake up in the morning to do it all over again. 

George didn’t think they’d fall into a routine so easily, but he’s been pleasantly surprised so far. He finds that every night after a long day of camp he’s looking forward to seeing Y/N at home, and the little texts they exchange during his breaks have become his favorite part of the day. Even falling asleep next to her has become second nature, and George will never get tired of the fact that his bed has started to smell like the both of them. 

He figured it would be an adjustment, having someone else and their stuff in a space that has always been just his. But George loves seeing the touches of herself that Y/N has started to leave around the apartment. It’s always a thrill when he enters the closet and her clothes are hanging up next to his. He loves the rumpled blanket she always leaves on the couch, and the sight of her coffee mug in the sink next to his in the afternoon always makes him happy. 

They’re living the life George always wanted, and he’s already dreading the day it comes to an end. But the inevitable heartbreak is worth it to see the way Y/N lights up when he gets home in the afternoon. 

“What’s got you in such a good mood, Weasel,” Thomas, the Rebel’s goalie, states as he slides into the seat across from George. 

They’re on break for lunch, and George was taking advantage of the opportunity to text Y/N back. 

“Yeah, you’ve been a lot more smiley, Weasel,” Adam, a defenseman, adds as he sits next to George. 

“What? Is it a fucking crime to be happy?” George asks with an eyeroll. 

Before he has a chance to even react Thomas is reaching over and snatching George’s phone out of his hand. “No it’s not a crime,” he starts, scrolling through the texts on George’s phone. “But I’m sure it has something to do with Y/N and why she’s asking you what you want for dinner tonight.”

“Fuck you,” George grumbles as he grabs his phone back, and he can feel the flush on his cheeks. He knows that the whole point of Y/N being his fake fiance is so he can show everyone how responsible he is, and in order to do that people have to know about her. But a part of George was hoping to keep Y/N to himself for just a little bit longer. 

“Weasel’s got a girlfriend!” Adam exclaims, ruffling George’s hair. “You’ve been holding out on us George, when the fuck did that happen? Who is she? Where’d you meet?”

“Yeah, give us all the details George, you owe it to us,” Thomas adds. 

“You two are worse than a couple of school girls for christ sake.” George takes a sip of his water, needing a second to compose himself. “It happened during the off season. I went back home for a bit, you know, to see the family and everything. Y/N and I dated before I was in the league and we reconnected. We didn’t want to be apart when I had to come back for the season so she moved in with me.”

“Holy fuck, look how red his cheeks are,” Thomas teases. “Our little Weasel’s in love.”

“Little lover boy,” Adam joins in, ruffling George’s hair again. “Fucking finally, Jenny has been dying for you to get a girlfriend, she said her and Olivia need a new drinking buddy.”

“Hell yeah, bring Y/N to team drinks tonight,” Thomas suggests with a grin. “You can’t keep her from us forever, and Olivia will castrate me if she finds out you have a girlfriend and I didn’t try to get you to bring her out.”

George huffs, thinking it over. They have a day off tomorrow, and he was kind of looking forward to doing nothing but hanging out on the couch with Y/N. But introducing her to the team and their partners is probably the most natural way for him being in a relationship to get back to Coach, and that’s the whole reason Y/N is here in the first place. 

“Alright fine,” he relents, causing the other men to cheer. “But you fuckers are on a short leash, you hear me? Say any weird shit and we’re gone.”

“We’ll be on our best behavior,” Adam promises, placing a hand on his heart. “Scout’s honor.”

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

-

“Are you sure I look okay?” Y/N asks again, pausing just outside the entrance to the bar. 

It physically pains George to look her over, because the pair of jeans clinging to Y/N are so tight they look like they’ve been painted on and it’s taking all of his willpower and thoughts of his grandmother naked to keep him from popping a boner. The fabric showcases every single curve on her, and all he wants to do is plant one hand on her ass while the other grips the back of her neck as he kisses her senseless. 

But he can’t do that, so he settles for grabbing her hands to stop the way she tugs at the hem of her shirt. It’s just barely too short, letting a sliver of skin peek between the top of her jeans and the bottom of the shirt, and Y/N has been tugging on it constantly. As if another few inches of fabric will suddenly unravel and cover her completely. 

“For the millionth time, you look incredible, baby,” George reassures her, taking too much pride in the way her cheeks flush. “You have nothing to be nervous about, Y/N. This is just a casual hang out with my friends.”

“I know, I know. You’re right,” Y/N agrees. George intertwines their fingers, squeezing her hands and it sends butterflies fluttering through her tummy. “I just want your friends to like me, and I don’t want to fuck up this whole fake fiancé thing.”

George can feel the cool band of Y/N’s engagement ring pressing into his skin, and he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t send a thrill through his body. He thought it would be strange, seeing the ring on her finger knowing that he’s the one who put it there. But every time he gets a glimpse of the diamond it feels like it has always been there, a feeling which George has carefully boxed up and stuffed to the back of his mind. 

“You have nothing to worry about,” George soothes, releasing one of Y/N’s hands so he can pull her behind as he pushes through the door to the bar. “All I told the guy’s is that you and I dated when we were younger and reconnected when I went home during the off season. Technically none of that is a lie.”

Y/N nods in agreement as George drags her into Maynards. Except for the rowdy crowd in the corner that is very clearly George’s teammates, it’s practically empty and she feels some of her nerves drift away. Pretending in front of people George knows is one thing, but having to put that facade up in front of fans with phones is a whole nother story. On the drive over George had explained that Maynards was the team’s go to spot because it’s close to the arena, but is so dingy and outdated that not too many people come in. The boy’s like the anonymity that Maynards provides, and it’s often the place they go when they just want to hang out for the night and spend some time together. 

Y/N feels honored to be let into that special club. 

It’s one of the guy’s girlfriends that notices them first, and the rest of Y/N’s nerves float away at the look of pure joy that crosses the stranger’s face. 

“Holy fuck, Thomas wasn’t lying!” The girl shouts excitedly, causing the few people standing with them to turn and look their way. She abandons her boyfriend, bounding over with her arms stretched out for a hug.

Except much to Y/N’s surprise she walks right past George, wrapping her arms around Y/N instead. “I’m Olivia, it’s so nice to meet you.”

Y/N returns Olivia’s hug with the arm that isn’t attached to the hand George is still holding on to, returning the tight squeeze. “It’s nice to finally meet you, George has told me so much about you.”

Which isn’t a total lie, from the time George got home until they reached the bar he’d given her a brief run down on everyone she’d be meeting tonight. He’d spent the most time talking about Thomas, Adam and their girlfriends, since they are who he’s closest with on the team and who he spends the most time with off the ice. 

“Well he’s told us absolutely nothing about you, so we’ve got a ton of catching up to do.” Olivia releases Y/N from her embrace, grabbing her hand instead. Except as she starts to drag her away, George keeps his own grip on Y/N tight, catching her in the middle. 

“Y/N is my date, Olivia, you just can’t steal her,” George huffs, pouting at them. 

Olivia rolls her eyes, clearly used to George’s antics. “Sharing is caring, Georgie,” she mocks, tugging on Y/N so George has no choice but to release her hand. “You’ll get her back, I promise.”

Before she disappears into the crowd with Olivia, Y/N shoots George a reassuring smile over her shoulder, a silent signal not to worry about her. 

If only she knew that George’s reluctance to let her go has nothing to do with worry, but his overwhelming need to feel her hand in his. 

-

“So what was Weasel like back in high school? Was he always such a little shit?” Thomas asks with a grin. 

They’ve been at the bar for a few hours, and despite her initial nerves, Y/N is actually having fun. Olivia had dragged her over to where Jenny, Adam’s girlfriend, and some of the other player’s partners were huddled together and it was as if they were old friends. After a few margaritas and getting to know each other the guys had wandered over. George had immediately wrapped his arm around her waist, bringing Y/N in close so her back was pressed to his front. That’s where she stayed as his friends asked her what felt like a million questions about George. 

“Weasel?” she responds, wrinkling her nose. Y/N tilts her head back so she can look up at George. “That’s what they call you? I’m ashamed, it’s not very creative. Woody was way better.”

George’s cheeks immediately flush at the reminder of his old nickname, causing Thomas and Adam to whoop in laughter. “You’re a little menace, you know that?” he murmurs in her ear, squeezing her waist. 

“Woody? Now that’s a story I want to hear,” Adam says, his eyes lit with excitement. 

Y/N goes to tell the story, but before she can even utter a word George claps his free hand over her mouth, muffling her words. “No, nope. I will not let you hooligans rope my fiancé into your shenanigans.”

 Everyone around them goes silent. When Olivia had referred to Y/N as George’s girlfriend earlier she didn’t correct her, figuring there was a reason why he hadn’t told his friends about the engagement. So she went right along with it, keeping her left hand tucked into her pocket as much as possible. 

“I’m sorry, did you say fiancé?” Jenny asks, her voice loud enough to draw looks from those around them.

“Um. Surprise?” George responds sheepishly, dropping the hand he has over Y/N’s mouth to grab her left hand instead. He lifts it up to show everyone the ring, and even in the dim light of the bar the diamond shines. 

“Oh my god! Congratulations!” Olivia shouts as Jenny giggles, and the girls take Y/N’s hand from George so they can examine the ring more closely. 

“Damn, Weasel. You’ve broken the hearts of female hockey fans all over the country,” Adam teases, clapping George on the shoulder. “No wonder you’ve been in such a fantastic mood lately. Congrats.”

Thomas winks at George. “Yeah, congratulations or whatever, but let’s get back to the conversation.” His eyes sheen with mischief and George lets out a groan. “Why the fuck did they call you Woody?”

The girls dissolve into a fit of giggles as Y/N looks up at George for approval. But when he gives her a pleading look all Y/N does is wink before she refocuses her attention back on the group and launches into the story.

“Well you see, it all started back when we were in high school, and George was away with the junior team for the first time.”

George tunes out the rest of the story, not needing to listen as Y/N recounts the story of how he got caught jerking off in his hotel room the night before his first game in the junior league. Instead he focuses on the bright smile on her face, and how the people he cares about most react to her. He can already tell that Jenny and Olivia have accepted Y/N as one of their own, and he knows she has Adam and Thomas’ stamp of approval too. 

Y/N fits into their group flawlessly and it makes his chest feel warm. George tightens his grip on her waist, and he never wants to let her go. 

-

They spend a large part of the next day on the couch. Y/N is too hungover to move and George wants to be wherever she is. With each of their heads at one end of the couch their legs are intertwined in the middle, both of them content to just watch movies and eat snacks all day. It isn’t until the sun is starting to get lower in the sky that George finally speaks. 

“We should go out somewhere for dinner tonight.”

Y/N raises an eyebrow as she raises her eyes to meet his. “You suddenly get bit by the going out bug?” she teases.

George chuckles. “No, I’d much rather lay around all day with you. But if we want people to believe we’re engaged we should probably be seen out and about together.”

At least that’s the excuse he’s come up with. In reality last night he started to come to the realization that he doesn’t want this engagement to be fake. Y/N had fallen asleep as soon as they crawled in bed but George had laid awake watching her closely as he reflected on the night and the last several years. 

Because being at that bar with Y/N is the happiest he’d been in a long time, and when he really thought about it, the last time he remembers being truly happy was before he ended things with Y/N. Even the day he was drafted and his first game in the NHL didn’t come close to being his happiest memory, because she wasn’t there with him. 

So George made a decision last night. Fuck being named Captain, his one and only goal is to make Y/N fall in love with him again. That way he can marry her for real, and he never has to think about what life will be like without her by his side. He’d stayed awake for hours formulating a plan, and this is just step one. 

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Y/N agrees. “But nowhere fancy, okay? I still feel like shit. You weren’t kidding, Olivia and Jenny go hard.”

George agrees to her stipulation, and he finds himself returning the grin on Y/N’s face. Operation Get Y/N to fall in love is officially a go. 

-

“Remember that time at Rosie’s when Fred made you laugh so hard milkshake came out of your nose?”

George attempts to laugh at the memory, choking on the sip of milkshake he’s just taken. “Oh god, don’t remind me,” he spits out once his coughing calms down. “I smelled vanilla for weeks after that.”

Y/N giggles at the grimace on George’s face as she settles back into the booth. To comply with her request not to go anywhere fancy, they’re at a dingy dinner a few blocks from the apartment that George swore has the best milkshakes in all of Chicago. And as Y/N takes a sip of hers, she can’t help but agree. 

“That was also the first time we held hands,” Y/N reminds him, blush coating her cheeks. They were twelve and George had been so embarrassed that Y/N had reached out to squeeze his hand and he never let go. Two weeks later they went on their first date, and a week after that they were boyfriend and girlfriend. 

“I was so nervous that I threw up when I got home,” George admits with a grin. “I told Fred it was because I could still feel milkshake dripping out of my nose, but really it was because the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen had held my hand.”

He lays his arm across the table, palm up in invitation. Without a moment of hesitation Y/N places her hand in George’s and a shiver runs up her spine when he grasps her fingers. George brushes his fingers over her knuckles, and they sit in silence as George looks at their intertwined hands and she looks at him.

“What happened, George?” Y/N asks suddenly, her voice shaky. “I thought things were going so well and then suddenly they weren’t.” 

“I was scared,” he admits after a few moments of silence, still refusing to meet her gaze. “I always knew the NHL was my future, but getting that call, that Chicago was going to offer me a rookie contract, scared the shit out of me. I still had two years until they were going to call me up, and so much could have happened. They could have decided to drop me, or I could have had a career ending injury. And I had no Plan B. Hockey came first, my grades were barely passable and I had no passion for anything else. Without the NHL I would be nothing, and I couldn’t burden you like that. I figured letting you go so you could find someone worthy of your love was better than dragging you down with me.”

“George,” Y/N whispers, at a loss for what to say. Her heart aches in her chest, because George may have been the one to break them, but Y/N didn’t fight hard enough to save them. She knew something was wrong with George, and that he hadn’t suddenly become a heartless asshole after nearly ten years together. Y/N wishes she had stayed that day, refused to leave until George talked to her about what was really going on. 

Maybe if she had the engagement ring on her finger would be real, and it would have saved them both years of pain and longing. 

Before she can say anything else the waitress is back with their food, and they pull apart as she places the plates down in front of them. She’s gone in another instant, and even though everything smells and looks amazing, Y/N has suddenly lost her appetite. 

-

The next morning there are pictures of them all over social media, with several different sports sites publishing articles about how hockey’s hottest bachelor is officially off the market. Y/N hadn’t even noticed people taking their photo, but she’s glad that they all seem to have been taken before things got awkward. In each photo they’re both smiling, and there’s even a few where you can clearly see a blush outlined on George’s cheeks. 

They actually look in love, and it makes Y/N feel sick. 

Things were weird between them the rest of the night and George was up and out of the house to head to camp before Y/N was awake. Her only shred of hope has been the fact that George had still left a fresh pot of coffee for her. Maybe this whole thing isn’t over before it really even got started. 

Because Y/N has decided it’s time to stop playing the long game and merely hoping that this whole thing ends with her and George together for real. Y/N is going to get George Weasley to fall in love with her again even if it kills her. After his confession yesterday, Y/N knows now more than ever that George is the man she is supposed to end up with, and she is not going to give him up again without a fight. 

Will she ever forget how he had hurt her that day? Of course not. 

But what matters is that she’s forgiven him, and she’s ready to show George that what they have now can be real. 

She barely focuses on work all day, formulating a plan and figuring out her next steps. By the time George gets home that afternoon, his usual protein shake is waiting and Y/N is ready. Operation get George Weasley to fall in love with her is a go.

-

Y/N decides to make her move that night when they’re in bed. The awkwardness between them had started to fade as they fell into their evening routine, and by the time they were eating dinner on the couch together they were laughing and joking around again. While they hadn’t talked about what George said at the diner, it seemed they had come to a silent agreement to leave the past in the past and to keep moving forward. 

With only one week of training camp left before preseason starts, the focus of camp has shifted from running drills to starting to run plays, so when Y/N crawls into bed that night George is still awake, sitting up against the headboard as he reviews his book of plays. 

She mirrors his position, keeping only a few inches of space between them as she starts to read her romance novel. Y/N keeps glancing at George out of the corner of her eye, not really paying attention to the words on the page. After a few minutes she gives up, huffing as she shuts her book before angling her body to face George. 

“I’ve been thinking,” she trails off, waiting for George to give her his full attention. 

“That can’t be good,” he jests, placing his playbook on the nightstand before he turns to face her as well. “What’s been going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile on her face. “Well I saw all the pictures of us people were posting this morning, and I was thinking about that family skate thing and the team dinner you were talking about and how if we’re going to be out and around people, there’s probably certain things they are going to expect from us.”

“Like?” George asks, urging her to continue. 

“Like PDA things,” she explains, swallowing the nerves threatening to creep up her throat. “Holding hands, touching, cuddling. Kissing.”

“Oh,” George murmurs, his cheeks turning pink. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“So I was thinking maybe we should practice. Doing all of that stuff. That way when we’re in front of people it doesn’t look weird or awkward. It looks like something we do all the time.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N feels her stomach drop, and embarrassment flushes her cheeks. “Nevermind, forget I said anything,” she dismisses, kicking herself for even bringing it up. 

But before she can turn her back to George and pretend to sleep he grabs her wrist, using his grip to pull Y/N even closer. “Sorry, I was just processing. You’re right. No one will believe we’re engaged if we look like two chickens pecking at each other when we try to kiss or if you flinch every time I touch your ass.”

Without giving her a chance to respond George grips the back of Y/N’s neck, pulling her into a kiss as his other arm wraps around her waist. There’s no hesitation as they kiss for the first time in years, and Y/N feels fireworks as George’s mouth melds against hers. 

George breaks their kiss for a moment, muttering a quiet fuck before he’s kissing her again with more force. Angling her head back, George deepens the kiss and Y/N moans as he nips at her bottom lip. She shivers as his tongue soothes the sharp pain before letting him lick into her mouth. 

Next thing she knows George is pulling her closer, dragging her so she’s straddling his lap. Her own hands grip his shoulders as George massages the back of her neck, his other hand wandering down to cup her ass. He drags her even closer, and they both let out a gasp as his hard cock presses between her thighs, nestled just where she needs him most. 

As Y/N rocks against him, moaning as his cock nudges her throbbing clit, the reality that they are about to cross a line that they will never be able to come back from hits them both. In the blink of an eye Y/N is back on her side of the bed, hair tousled from George’s grip and her breathing heavy. She spares a glance at George, happy to find that he looks just as affected. 

“So I think that was enough practice, yeah?” George doesn’t even wait for Y/N’s response before he’s up and out of bed, one hand trying to cover the tent in his sweatpants as he rushes into the bathroom. A second after the door closes Y/N hears the shower turn on, and she can’t help but slip a hand under her sleep shorts. 

Phase one complete. 

-

They haven’t kissed again since that first night early in the week, but much to both of their delight, physical touch starts to become a regular part of their relationship. When they’re out in public George doesn’t hesitate to grab Y/N’s hand, and he often keeps a hand on her lower back to guide her. Now when George gets home he seeks her out, sometimes content to rub her shoulders as she works, sometimes so desperate to feel her close that he hauls her from the chair into a hug. While they cook dinner together they’re constantly brushing against one another, and Y/N is practically in George’s lap while they eat. 

The space they try to keep in bed at night has been completely erased, with George refusing to fall asleep until Y/N is wrapped in his arms. Her plan is working even better than she could have imagined and she can’t wait to show off their new found closeness tonight at the Rebel’s family skate. 

Training camp is officially over, and every year to celebrate the team hosts a family skate night. The guys get to bring their wives or girlfriends and their kids, and everyone just gets to have fun together on the ice before the craziness of the season starts to take over. Preseason starts next week, and after the first game at home on Tuesday, the team will be gone for the better part of the next three weeks. Which makes tonight at open skate and tomorrow’s team dinner Y/N’s last chances to really get close to George before they are apart again. 

“When do you think is the last time we skated together?” George asks as he steps out onto the ice, holding his hands out so he can help Y/N enter the rink. 

In years past George never really cared for family skates considering the fact that he never really had anyone to bring with him, but he’s been looking forward to this all week. Not only did he and Y/N meet on the ice, but ice skating was their first date, making this the perfect next step in his plan to get her to fall in love with him again. 

Y/N thinks about it as she grabs George’s hands and joins him. “Probably a family skate back when you were in the juniors. You used to have to bribe me with kisses to get on the ice.”

George keeps Y/N’s hands in his, starting to slowly skate backwards, pulling her along. “Mmm, that reminds me.” He pulls her in closer, leaning down and kissing her briefly. “Thank you for skating with me.”

She knows it’s for show, but it makes her heart rate pick up anyway. “You’re welcome. But I think I deserve one more kiss for being so brave.”

“Y/N, you can have as many kisses as you want,” George murmurs as he leans down before pressing their lips together again. 

Their kiss is much longer this time, and Y/N is just about to open her mouth for George’s tongue when someone skates by, stopping sharply to spray them with ice. 

“Adam, fuck you,” George growls as they pull apart, glaring at the other man as he skates away. 

Y/N laughs, pushing George away to put some distance between them. There are children present after all. “You look so cute when you’re mad.”

“Only when I’m mad?” George pouts playfully, bringing his attention back to her. 

“Nah, you’re cute all the time,” she reassures him, momentarily releasing one of his hands so she can boop him on the nose. The smile that graces his lips takes her breath away, and Y/N tilts her chin, silently requesting another kiss. 

George immediately obliges, pressing their lips together in a sweet kiss. It’s over far too quickly for Y/N’s liking, but George keeps her close as they continue to skate around the rink. It’s nice, just being there with him, and Y/N lets her gaze wander around as they move. 

It’s funny, watching these guys who are so big and broad glide around with their kids. The ones who are too young to skate are just being held in their dad’s arms, bundled up in little snowsuits. There’s a few toddlers too, wearing little skates and a tiny version of their dad’s jersey as they’re guided along the ice. Some of the kids are even old enough to hold sticks, and they’re skating around passing pucks with their fathers before taking turns shooting on the goal. 

It hits Y/N then, that if this all works out that could be her and George next year. A tiny baby in his big broad arms, wearing a jersey that says Daddy across the back with George’s number underneath it. A few of the wives have custom jerseys as well, with Mrs. Last name embroidered on the back and their husband’s number underneath. She’s sure that George would insist on her having one too. 

Y/N’s attention refocuses on George as they slow and they come to a stop in front of the home bench, where George’s coach is tightening up his daughter’s skates. George wraps his arms around Y/N’s waist, pulling her back into his chest. 

“Coach,” he greets when the other man turns and acknowledges them. “I just wanted to introduce you to my fiancé, Y/N.”

“Daniel Morris.” His voice is gruff, and Y/N takes the hand he offers, giving it a brief shake. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the woman who’s lit a fire under this ogre’s ass,” he teases with a grin. “Weasley has been playing his best these past few weeks, and we have you to thank.”

“Oh well, I don’t know about that,” Y/N brushes off, hoping the pink tint on her cheeks can be blamed on the cold. “But thank you. It’s nice to meet the guy George is always bitching about.”

Morris lets out a loud laugh, grabbing the attention of almost every single player out on the ice. “I like her George, you better keep this one around.”

“Oh trust me, Coach,” George starts with a grin, flicking his gaze down to Y/N. “I intend to.”

And that’s the truth.

-

“God I’m so sore,” Y/N moans as she crawls into bed that night, flopping down onto the pillows. “I don’t know how you do that every day. I barely did anything and my body aches like I just climbed Mount Everest.”

George shakes his head as he chuckles and he rubs a comforting hand down Y/N’s back. “Years and years of conditioning, baby. Where did you think all these muscles came from?” He flexes, causing Y/N to laugh. 

“I do love your hockey butt,” she teases, giving George a wink. 

“And I love your regular butt,” he responds, playfully giving it a slap. “C’mere, let me make you feel better.”

George maneuvers her so they’re cuddled close, one of Y/N’s legs slung over his hips with her chest pressed against his own. She presses her face into the crook of his neck, and a shiver wracks through his body when she kisses the sensitive skin there. George starts to rub circles into the tight muscles of her back, his fingers applying just enough pressure to work the kinks out without hurting her. 

“Feel good?” he asks after a few moments, and Y/N lets out a moan of appreciation. “Good,” he murmurs as his hand starts to trail down her back. He pauses for a moment on the curve of her ass, digging his fingers in for a moment before continuing down to the thigh he has slung over his hips. George repeats the same motions as he did on her back, working out the muscles of her thighs. 

George threads his free hand through the hair on the back of Y/N’s head and he slowly starts to scratch at her scalp. The gentleness of George’s simple intimacy brings tears to her eyes, and Y/N shuts her eyes to keep them from escaping. It’s easy to pretend when they’re like this, that this is just a normal night and they’re just a normal couple taking care of each other before they fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

As Y/N starts to slowly fall asleep she sends out every piece of good karma she has out into the universe, wishing that her plan to make George fall in love with her works. Because she’s already head over heels in love with this man, and if he breaks her heart again she’ll never be the same.  

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fan fiction #george weasley au #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter au #gw #golden

[calmlyerratic]

James: Look, I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re on about. Have we met?

Fred and George: *confused*

George: *points left* Fred—

Fred: *points right* —and George. Blimey Harry, did Umbridge confound you?

James: Why does everyone keep calling me that? My name is James. As in James Potter.

Fred and George: *exchange a glance*

Fred: Lift up your fringe, James.

James: What? Why?

George: Look, either you’re actually Harry and you’ve just gone bonkers—

Fred: —or you’re not Harry—

George: —and the only way to be sure—

Fred: —is for you to lift up your fringe.

────────────────⋆────

a silly chat from my fic,

Encounters of the Future Sort by @calmlyerratic

Read it here on tumblr or here on Ao3 :)

──────⋆──────────────

#james potter #fred weasley #george weasley #harry potter #hp marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders era #marauders #the marauders #harry potter au #hp au #hp fanfic #hp fandom #prongs #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #moony #padfoot #wormtaiil

[cherry-pop-elf]

Cuddle Party

George figured a new couch was in order, given the last one kinda uh. Exploded. Might as well help him break it in!

I blame @george-weasleys-girl for this. It literally all stemmed for this pic

Warnings: Heavy petting. ((Yeah it seems like a vanilla warning, but hey sometimes you aren’t in the right headspace for sexual content. Even if there isn’t sex. You valid sweetie!)) lots of fluff, and some wholesome “teaching your kid about deafness”

Writing coms open

“See? As if nothing had ever happened!” That nothing being your son, Fred the second, inherited someone’s pyrotechnic passion. Wasn’t Freddy’s fault. He wasn’t even old enough for a wand yet, but he was showing brilliant magic. Even so young. You two made sure he understood it was an accident, but also used it as a good learning lesson that when accidents happen you do your best to fix them. Gentle parenting was what helped Freddy best, and like hell you would ever yell at him for such an accident.

“You wanted an excuse for this, didn’t you?” You would tease, as you leaned over the massive thing. Was pretty much a alaskan king, with many purple cushions to accent the orange material. It was loud, and that was how you liked it. It was also perfect for when family was over. Just move the furniture around, and the couch was suddenly much longer with many seats. You did like that. This would make having company over far easier. You really did like it.

"MAYBE~" He cackled, before he jumped onto the thing. A graceful flop he went, with so much space to move around. That had you rolling your eyes, but you were smiling. Your husband. Such a adorable man, and that made you so happy. Kept you feeling young, even with so much happening. With that being said, it also meant you had a streak of mischeif all the same. Before your husband knew it, you jump right on him. Making him wheeze, before laughing.

"NO FAIR! IM DEAF I COULDNT HEAR YOU COMING!" He, playfully, argued. Along with took advantage of your laughter to pin you down. Made you laugh more, as you would fight back. Your wrists pinned, and sock feet flailing, as your were attacked with kisses. Left you squealing, as he made sure to attack your sweet spots. Leaving no mercy, as the two of you broke in the new furniture.

“You are a menace to society, just my type~” He growled, as he gave you a kiss. Then another, and another, and before either of knew it. It was more than just kissing. You two were just engulfed by each other. Utterly addicted to each other’s flavors and scents. The fresh ash, and sweet pastries.

Suppose you two were breaking in the new couch, that’s for sure. As if either of you could complain. That is, until your passionate moment was interrupted by someone jumping onto George’s back. Made him wheeze, before tumbling across the furniture. Leaving you to have someone fall on your stomach.

“ITS LIKE A BIG BED-!” Junior shouted, before he crawled off of you. Quick to stand up, and jump on it. Meanwhile, you two needed a moment to breathe again. You caught your breath far quicker than George did. Since he was full on WWE-ed.

“Dad! DAD-!” Junior shouted, but George was busy with a bruised back. Not to mention his good ear was forced into the cushion, so he didn’t hear Freddy at all. You used that to your advantage, and soon scooped Freddy up.

“Remember, Daddy doesn’t hear to well. Right?” A nice learning moment. With Freddy in your lap, as you sat crossed legged. “Yeah yeah-! He hears only half the stuff we do-!” Junior would agree, and made the sign for ‘silent’ on his left ear. Just like where George’s was missing.

“That’s a good job-! Oh you did so well, you remembered!” You praised, making your son beam. Learning languages sure comes naturally, when half your family’s speaks more than one language. Romanian, Mandarían, French, Arabic, Latin, and throw in some British Sign Language.

“And you remember what we said about yelling?” You asked, as he nodded. “Not everyone likes it! So you gotta ask em first. Cause yelling is scary sometimes. Like when grandma Molly yells. She yells loud!” Junior said, making an explosion motion with his hands.

“Oh she got lungs alright-“ George huffed, as he caught himself again. Once he was steady, Junior was quick to camper over to George. Yanked into the older man’s arms, and held high in the air. Then, he collapsed on the couch. With Junior plopping on his chest. You were quick to snuggle your husbands side, as Junior sat on his chest. Having to much energy.

“Your kid-“ You tease, before kissing your husbands cheek. That made Junior stick his tongue out, and George mimicked him. Having a silly face off. That made you laugh, as you enjoyed the cuddle session with your family.

Eh, that old couch had been here since you three had got the permit for the place. Some things needed to be replaced. But memories like this? Never. You wanted to simply keep creating, and keeping, more and more. Forever, and ever.

#harry potter #harry potter magic awakened #hpma #magic awakened #George Weasley #george weasley x reader #fluff #so much fluff #i blame my friend #yes this is a very old draft #college keeps you busy #leave me alone #I’m already writing essays man sob #this is a pass time #semi side hussle #speaking of which don’t forget I take coms #please #er visits are pricey #thanks #hp #hp magic awakened #deaf George Weasley #disabled George Weasley #George Weasley is deaf #George Weasley is disabled #stop earasing it to fit your narrative when there is geuienly zero reason for it #I’m not talking about au’s #you know who you are #I see you #ok maybe my muscle relaxers kicked in by now

[rewritingcanon]

#in my AU molly is a medium so im trying to see which child would actually bite at learning from her #harry potter #hp #molly weasley #ginny weasley #percy weasley #george weasley #fred weasley #bill weasley #charlie weasley #ron weasley #hpcc #hp nextgen #hp next gen #golden trio era #rewriting

[odinsonslut]

4 am

⊹ genre: angst, fluff ending

⊹ pairing: george weasley x reader (implied female)

⊹ themes: slight enemies to lovers, slight friends to lovers???

⊹ summary: following the abrupt ending of your friendship, George, the instigator of the breakup, continues to treat you with carelessness and disregard. You’re pushed to the point of retaliation, leading to a cruel confrontation. George attempts to redeem his character and finally express his feelings.

⊹ warnings: swearing, kind of a heated suggestive make-out, a mean george.

⊹ word count: 2.1k

⊹ a/n: I haven’t written since, like, 2018. PLEASE, please treat me gently. I know I tend to overuse the same phrases within a story. I also suck at writing summaries. I promise there’s more to it than described 🫶🏽🫶🏽

It was 4 am when I jolted awake, still wading off the reminiscent agitation from a dream involving a sinking ship and a niffler from what I could remember. Hermione’s lamp was on its dimmest setting right next to where she had fallen asleep, book in hand, a muggle book I had gifted her since I rarely saw her reading for pleasure since we entered our fifth year. 

I turned her bedside lamp off on my way out, hoping the elves were up preparing breakfast. I’d befriended Winky and often spent time with her over butter cookies in the kitchens when I had trouble sleeping. Her addiction was steadily improving without the burden of her previous master.

I made my way to the common room, contemplating walking all the way down to the kitchens, when I heard a thudding pair of footsteps down the stairs. It was George. It was too late to act like id never looked up; we had already made eye contact. Our usual routine was to avoid an acknowledgement of any form. Things hadn’t been the same since he’d rejected my invite to the yule ball last year, though that wasn’t why our friendship had fallen through.

“He’s got you sneaking out at night now too?” 

I was taken aback. The last time we’d ever spoken was the reluctant exchange of Merry Christmas’ due to Molly’s prodding at the burrow. The ‘he’ George was referring to was the date you ended up with at the ball, Draco, the reason George had cut you off completely that night.

“Tell Angelina she’s welcome to join us when she grows tired of faking it with you.” 

I was furious. Why does he get to decide your friendship is over? Why does he get to be mad about your relationship after rejecting you? Why is the standing of our relationship always dictated by how he feels and what he wants? And why should I continue acting civilly towards him?

I picked a book off the shelf and bumped his shoulder as I passed him, deciding to return to bed. I had lost my appetite.

-

I’d practically sprinted to the great hall for dinner after a two-hour-long class of potions. Since your breakup, being partnered up with Draco for the next year was a little awkward. Keeping the DA a secret and him being on the inquisitorial squad just caused too many issues that couldn’t be resolved on top of the Gryffindor-Slytherin debacle. He was the sweetest boy, and being apart still hadn’t affected how he treated you at all: softly, politely. It was comforting knowing he’d always have a soft spot for you, but getting to the point of friendship would take a little longer.

I sat between Hermione and George, across from Harry, getting subtle looks from my friends. I was tired of walking on eggshells around George, waiting for him to dictate how our interactions go or tailoring my behaviour for his comfort. This was his problem, not mine. 

“Get yourself somewhere else to sit. This seat is spoken for”, he spoke immediately. 

I refused to react defensively. Instead, I picked an eclair off his plate and took a bite. 

Harry avoided looking at us at all, shovelling meat pie into his mouth. Hermione didn’t employ the same faux indifference, staring directly at us. George shifted a bit farther away from me and continued eating, similarly refusing to give me a reaction. 

“Where is Angelina? Last I saw, she was off ‘practising’ with Marcus Finch”, I prodded, refusing to concede

“Your desperation for me is becoming pitiful to witness; it’s pathetic. Keep her name out of your mouth; you’d think it’d be exhausted with what all you spend your time doing with it.” 

You finally got the rise out of him you were looking for, you pushed him to a breaking point, but it wasn’t the satisfying victory you imagined. It hurt.

I kept my gaze downcast, lightly placed the remainder of the unfinished eclair back onto George’s plate and left the hall. I spent the night on a couch in the room of requirement, unwilling to accept Hermione’s comfort quite yet.

-

“What on earth is going on with you two?”  Hermione was lying on my bed beside me, our hands loosely intertwined. She’d spent all Saturday morning with me, avoiding the topic of George completely till now. 

I sighed

I knew it would be an inevitable discussion, but a part of me wished I could avoid it into in-existence. “It was embarrassing, Mione. I think we’re truly done with each other, and I honestly feel okay with the thought of that. I know I pushed him, but hearing those words was jarring. It felt like a completely different person than who I thought was still in there. It’s the lighthearted and slightly sarcastic tone in which he said it that made it hurt. I feel foolish.”

“Nothing you put him through warranted that response, honestly? It sounded more like a projection to me. You were dignified in accepting his rejection, and he cut you off for going with someone else?”

“There is absolutely no sense in trying to decipher why the Weasley boys act the way they do. I’ve still never gotten a sound explanation as to what exactly Ron was on that night, either. I mean, it’s obvious he was jealous but-

“Yeah, jealous he wasn’t Victor’s date for the night”, She cut me off.

“oh my god, whatever happened to the Krum-themed anal plug Fred had custom-made Ron for Christmas third year?”

-

Opening my eyes felt like such an effort; my head felt like pounding out of its skull in an unfamiliar bed in the boys’ dormitory. I recognised the burgundy hand-knitted sweater with a large W embroidered on it. My heart leapt into my throat for a split second. I had worried I’d somehow managed to break into George’s room for a confrontation. 

He had been on my mind a lot lately. It had been about two months since the incident, and since we last spoke, and lately, he and Fred have been all everyone can talk about with the success of their prototypes and antics that seemed to have tightened in frequency the more decrees imposed by Umbridge.

I was rushing to get my things together when he walked in. I paused in place, petrified.

“You were careless last night. I don’t know when you became this person, but you’ve got to stop letting Malfoy ruin you. Muggle narcotics are dangerous.”

Just hearing his voice chastising me yet again pulled at me internally. 

“I’m begging you to stop saying anything to me at all if they’re going to come out like that; I will genuinely beg because I just can’t take this from you anymore, George.”

He looked unamused 

“When did you become so weak? Malfoy broken you down so badly that all you know how to do is make yourself small and beg?”

I’d had just about enough. I threw George against the wall yelling at him to shut the fuck up, haphazardly punching him wherever I could land any, the frustration that had built up for months finally meeting its outlet. Save from shielding his face, George stood there and took it till I was done.

“Draco and I broke up over two months ago. He’s a good friend, he does help me get what I use, but he makes sure I’m safe and alive whenever I’m using” I finally broke the silence, and we sank to sit on the floor across from each other.

“I know, he told me last night. He was carrying you outside the common room, yelling at the fat lady to let him in to put you to bed. He told me you’d broken up and that you remained friends. He also said you were developing a problem and needed me back.”

“I don’t need Malfoy speaking for me, and having you around would actualise my supposed ‘problem’. Why am I in your clothes in your bed?”

“When I opened the door for Malfoy, you asked me to stay with you. You told me you just wanted one night of being us again, so I gave you clothes to change into, put you to bed in my room, and slept on the couch in the common room.”

I stood up to leave without acknowledging his response, relieved nothing else had happened. 

“I don’t know that it’ll change anything for you, but I’ve felt sorry for treating you the way I did for a really long time. I figured you’d finally found peace with the situation and avoided trying to resolve things for that reason. At least, that was the excuse I forced myself to believe. I didn’t realise I was really just afraid of confrontation and rejection. Not generally, just with you. You were right about Angelina, too, apparently, she’s been shacking up with Finch since Christmas,” He continued 

“None of that means anything to me. For as long as you got to decide to do whatever you wanted with my feelings, all I wanted was to get past this. This doesn’t mean anything to me after what you’ve done with the importance I trusted you enough to hold to you. I’m well within my right to decline your apology. And it isn’t even to spite you for your selfish decisions. You were right. I am truly happy without you. You don’t mean anything to me anymore.” I spoke with my back towards him and walked out and back to my dorm immediately after.

-

George had spent the last three weeks trying to earn back a spot in your life as the friend he once was to you. He’d done everything you hoped he would for the longest time, and it felt empowering to ignore his advances and put your pride first. But the more time you reluctantly spent with the old George, the harder it was to stop your previous feelings from resurfacing.

This particular morning, if you could even classify 4 am as the morning, George had snuck into your dorm with Harry’s cloak in hand. You only agreed to leave with him because he promised you a visit to Winky. After devouring an entire gooseberry pie between you, George suggested a walk by the lake. It was tempting, especially after seeing how he interacted with Winky, as normally as he does everyone else, without judgement. But you pushed yourself to decline and returned to the common room together.

You spotted professor Snape on your way up, seemingly aggravated by Peeves, omitting a chuckle from George as he watched Snape flail around, attempting to curse the ghost.

“Who’s there?” He sneered

I immediately lifted my hand to cover George’s mouth as we scooted closer together under the cloak. We kept our eyes locked as we tried to remain still. His eyes dipped to my lips at the same time he lifted my palm off of his. Tangling his left hand into my hair, he used his right to guide my waist back till we hit the wall and kept me in his hold, his lips moving closer to mine with every breath he took

“What’re you doing?” I asked softly enough for just the two of us to hear

He looked into my eyes as he finally connected his lips with mine, our eyes fluttering shut after the initial kiss as we melted into it. He teased my tongue with him as he hoisted me up to his level, wrapping my legs around his waist. The build-up of tension escaped us with every rough feverish kiss. His kisses moved to my neck as he began guiding my hips against his, perfectly lining me up against him. I could barely keep myself composed.

“It’s unfortunate, the 50-point deduction limit per student” My blood ran cold at the sound of Snape’s voice. George immediately dropped me to the ground, where I landed on Harry’s discarded cloak. George squeezed my hand in comfort, signalling he’d take care of things.

He took a breath and stepped toward Snape. “I drugged her, Sir; she’s completely innocent.”

“God, you’re an idiot”, I thumped him on the back of his head.

We sniggered, trailing a few steps behind Snape as we were escorted back to our dormitories, not too fussed about detention every week till the end of the term.

End

✩ I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE ANY OF MY WRITING POSTED ON ANY EXTERNAL WEBSITES ✩

#george wealsey x reader #george weasley #harry potter #fred weasly x reader #george weasley x fem #george weasely smut #harry potter smut #harry potter x reader #harry potter series #harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts game #hp fandom #hogwarts au #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts mystery #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #ron wealsey x y/n #ron weasley #ron weasley smut #fred weasley #harry potter x draco malfoy #draco x hermione #moodboard #harry potter moodboard #sirius x reader #wolfstar

[gracesmusings4adults]

Two Devils and an Angel

Dark!George Weasley x Reader x Dark!Fred Weasley

18+ dark themes, dub con, yadere themes, no incest, no Y/N, female mc

This is an AU. I am building a new world.

He is a perfect gentleman.

He is handsome, has a kind heart, and has a voice that could make angels cry.

My heart races when I am around him.

Yet I can’t help but desire the darkness.

I wish to be consumed by it.

I need to be devoured by them.

“Fred!” I scream his name as my fingers work circles around my sensitive nub.

My back arches as my legs wrap around my fingers. I squeeze them tight as I feel my juices leak out and soak on to my sheets.

I am completely and utterly soaked.

I pull my fingers out and guilt blooms in my stomach. I had said it. I had said my desire outloud. There was no taking it back now.

I can never forgive myself if he heard.

I am a monster.

I am a vile creature that must be punished.

The next morning, my boyfriend greets me with a kiss. “Good morning, my precious angel. Sleep well?” He asks. His gaze concealed a mischievous plan. “Think of me?” My eyes flash to the man behind him. Fred smirks at me. My body melts into George’s and shame creeps up my throat as my panties grow wet with need. “Always, George.” It’s only a partial lie. I had thought of George last night, but I had also thought of the man standing next to him.

“Oh my angel,” his voice sends flutters to my stomach. “Why don’t we skip class? Fred will collect our work for us.” His lips press into my neck, never once looking towards his brother. My eyes sinfully connect with Fred’s and in my haze, I mistake his annoyance for lust. “Of course dear brother,” Fred sighs. His gaze holds mine for a second too long and then he leaves.

“Fuck angel,” His fingers dance under my robe. “Tell me what you did last night,” I whisper my confession in his ear as he pushes me back to his and Fred’s room. We stumble into the dark room as he rips my robe off, the Gryffindor crest shining bright against the black backdrop. He drops to his knees in front of me and pulls my panties to the side.

I scream out as his tongue dances on my clit. “Keep talking angel. Tell me how you touched yourself.” His fingers dig into my thighs as my legs shake from the orgasm that has yet to stop. “Tell me how many times you finished.” My back presses into the cold wall as my body shakes with the power of another climax. My voice shakes as I confess.

His tongue swirls around my clit as I continue to spasm with pleasure. My juices cover his face as I try to keep talking. He continues to eat me out until I beg him to stop. He stands up and lifts me off the ground. He gives me a false sense of hope when he strips down. My mouth waters at the sight of him. “What else, my angel?” His eyes darken as he advances on me. My knees hit the back of the bed and my legs continue to tremble from the pleasurable assault. “That’s it, George.” His tongue tisks at the top of his mouth. I feel tears well up in my eyes. He presses a hand into my stomach, forcing me onto the bed. He takes a step back as I watch his cock grow and harden. He looks at me like I am the most delectable meal he has ever seen.

“I don’t think you are being honest me, angel.” He grabs his wand and whispers a binding spell. My hands are stuck to the sides of the small bed. Roughly he grabs my ankles and yanks the towards his broad shoulders. I am completely open to him. His gaze never leaves my exposed cunt. His finger slowly circles my clit. A scream rips through me. His fingers thrust into me. “Whose name did you scream last night?” I gasp and try to pull away from his fingers. He pulls my hair back and forces my gaze on him.

His fingers thrust into me again, hitting my g-spot. My back arches off the bed. “Yours!” I scream as I feel the high coming. He continues to thrust his fingers in me, pulling them out, and thrusting them back in. My body continues to shake and jerk with the intensity of the pleasure. “Who else?” My eyes roll back into my head and then… and then it’s gone. I pull my hands, the invisible rope digging into my sensitive skin. My body is burning with desire for what was so crully taken away from me. “George, please. Baby I love you. Please.” Tears are running down my face.

George is an angel. He is light. But he laughs. “George!” I scream at him. He leans down on top of me. His fingers trailing up my body. I reach up to press against him as his fingers brush my inner thighs, up my stomach, and past my sensitive buds. His length presses against my abused clit. “Angel?” My chin is held roughly between his fingers. He presses against me, holding me in place.

I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to cum. But I can do none of these things. I am trapped under George and his sadistic game. Who knew my light angel could be so dark? Oh, how I love it. In that moment I decide to be brave and accept the darkness that was all too welcoming. “Fred! I said, Fred. I love you, George, I promise. I don’t know why I did it. I just did.” The moment the words leave my lips his cock slides into me. I scream his name.

He pulls out and thrusts back in. I am being used by George and I don't care. He is a good man and an amazing lover. He will be the end of me, but I can't help but want him to be. "Good girl." He whispers into my ear as he starts to move. “My angel,” he grunts. His hips are moving faster. His thrusts are becoming harder. His grip on me is tight. I feel the high coming. His lips crush on mine as I feel my body release. I scream into his mouth.

My body is convulsing with pleasure. My heart is beating so fast I think I will pass out. He continues to pound into me. His movements are becoming sloppy. His cock is throbbing inside me. He pulls out and I feel his cum coat my stomach.

"I love you, Angel," he whispers into my ear as we lay there panting. The binds that hold my hands disappear. “You’re not mad?” I ask. I need him to say he isn't mad. I need to hear it. He pulls away from me and stares at me. "He loves you too. We both love you and want you more than anything.” His eyes glaze over. “We understand that it is a lot, so we didn’t want to push you. We wanted you to choose both of us.” My mind spins with his confession.

"But how? How could you both love me?" I ask. George chuckles and runs his fingers through my hair. "Because you are our angel.” I snuggle into him as he kisses my forehead.

"I love you, George."

When her breathing evens out the voice in the dark speaks. “I have been patient enough, brother.” Fred’s shadow stands and moves toward the large bed. The crest of Godric Gryffindor the only color on his all-black suit. He walks to the edge of the bed and sits down. He brushes her hair from her face and takes her hand. "We have done it your way and she has chosen us," he says as he runs his finger along her palm.

The darling angel shifts in the bed, pressing her body closer to George and opening herself up to Fred. George grunts in agreement. “Tomorrow I shall make her mine and then she can be ours.”

He slips his hand from hers and runs his fingers along her chest. She shivers and moans. Fred pulls back his hand and watches the darling angel. George's arm tightens around her.

Fred chuckles and stands. "Tomorrow, brother, is my day. I shall take my leave and let you get some rest." George pulls the angel closer to him. Fred walks to the door and opens it. "Fred." He looks back at George. "We shall all take our turn with her soon." George nods and Fred leaves the room.

George kisses the angel's neck and she moans. He smirks and takes her into his arms.

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[fluffthecloud]

Their Soulmate

Weasley Twins x Male Reader

Summary: Reader has one big soulmate mark on his back instead of a small one on his arm like most people in Hogwarts. He didn't know why but didn't really took mind to it. Now he got put in Hufflepuff, but somehow became friends with the mischievous twin gingers, mainly because they rode on the train together.

Genre:Fluff

Request: ❌

Warnings: N/A

Notes: This is based off a story on AO3 that had the reader as trans post top surgery. This is a Soulmate AU and at this time people didn't really know what polyamory was so everyone thought you had one soulmate.

Tags: @jasperthechaosgremlin pt. 2 pt.3

Y/N got his letter at any normal age Wizards gets theirs. Though his parents weren't too happy, they were envious. Y/N's parents always wanted to go to Hogwarts but they never gotten a letter, so like any other person that never gotten a letter, they went to another magic school that thought the same things just at a lower level.

Y/N had everything he needed nothing more nothing less, so with a few clothes for weekends and things to do in his free time he didn't have much, plus some money for snacks on the train and if he were to buy anything while at Hogwarts.

He was left at the train station by his parents after they told him where to go, he was a bit confused by this and their behavior after he got the letter. Y/N follows their directions to platform 9¾, and he was a bit confused as he was met with a pillar, a brick pillar. "Oh hello there young man!" A sweet voice said behind him, making him turn around, that's when he saw the gingers.

"Hi." He replied back smiling "am I in your way?" He asked moving slightly just in case he was.

"Oh no you are fine, but are you lost?" The lady asked, "oh where are my manners, I'm Molly Weasley, and these are my children, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny." She pointed at each one. (It took me too long to do simple math to see if Ron and Ginny would be kids or babies around this time)

"I'm Y/N L/N, by any chance do you know how to get to platform 9¾?" He asked hoping to not look like a dumbass and that he kids also got a letter.

"Yeah! You just run through the pillar, and then poff your there at the platform!" One of the twins said, Y/N being unsure which one.

"We got our letter a few weeks ago this is our first year!" The other one said, they really need name tags it would be so helpful.

"It's also my first year." Y/N said cheerfully, "so you just run into the pillar?" He asked looking back at Molly.

"Oh right, you'll miss the train, hurry hurry." One by one the red heads ran through, with you following right behind after saying thanks to Molly.

After getting on the train, you find a cabinet to sit in it was completely empty, so you put you bags in the over hang before taking a seat to silently stare out the window. Not long after you hear some commotion just before the cabinet door slides open to reveal none other than Percy, Fred and George. "L/N so nice to see you again!" Percy chimes, "hope you don't mind us joining you."

"Not at all, come sit." You say with a small smile before looking out the window again. But you soon look back to see the twins fighting for the spot next to you, only for Percy to take it, "if you can't share then neither of you can get it." He said as the two sat across from you.

The train ride was very chatty, mainly the twins trying to strike up conversation with you which worked, you really enjoyed their company. Time seemed to fly by fast because before you knew it you were at you stop, so you got your things and followed the Weasley's off the train.

After the boat ride everyone was now in the dinning hall. Everyone was called up one by one, then it was finally your turn "L/N Y/N!" McGonagall called, which in return you walked right up. You took your seat in the chair that was everyone's attention at that point, which made you feel a bit nervous, which made you forget that you were getting sorted into a house, "HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat yelled, and thanks to being out of it for a minute you jumped and the Hufflepuff table cheered.

As the last of the people got sorted into their houses you made some small talk with the other people at your table. That was over very quickly though because after dinner you were told to follow some person called prefect, apparently they are in charge of us getting to the dorm by lights out. Everyone was lead to their dorms and then it was lights out.

#harry potter #george weasley #fred weasley #weasley twins #hogwarts #soulmate au #soulmate marks #male reader #fred weasly x reader #george wealsey x reader #weasley twins x reader #weasley twins x male reader