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d0iezz · 1 year

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MOVING ON...

Michael Bluth x fem! Babysitter!reader

Summary: its been a year since she's been gone and Michael feels horrible about how fast he's moving on, but he just can't resist her

Warnings/rating: smut, kinda angst ig. Reader is in her 20s. Beta read we die like nana. I made George michael b younger cuz it wouldn't make sense if he had a baby sitter if he was like 12. Also Michael and geroge Michael don't both sleep in the attic.

This is my first fanfic lolz

He was overcome with grief, it had been over a year but he still wasn't able to lift this fog that was constantly weighing on him. He keeps on catching himself turning to her as a voice of reason, but she isn't there. He feels trapped, unable to tell anyone about his feelings, he didn't want to bring anyone down with his sulking, especially not George Michael, he didn't deserve it he’s just a kid.

His moping must have become visual because he sensed someone behind him, and due to this he was forced to turn around.

“Are you okay Mr. Bluth?” she said in a somewhat timid voice, as if she was afraid to speak to him. “Yes… yes i'm alright, just-” He stopped himself before he revealed too much “where’s George Michael?”

“I just tucked him in, after I read him a story he was completely knocked out” she giggled, as did Michael. But he didn't respond, he wasn't sure how, so you both stood there awkwardly waiting for the other to say something.

“Um.. well, I guess I should g-” but she was interrupted by a loud crack of thunder and the sound of heavy rain starting to fall. This shocked her, making her stumble backwards, tripping on the stair placed right behind her, causing her to fall on her back. She let out a small cry before she had realised Michael had rushed to her side. “Are you okay Y/N?” he asked frantically while lifting her head so it wouldn't be touching the hard floor it had just crashed into. Butterflies flew to her stomach, she was embarrassed to admit it but she found her employer very attractive, though she felt horrible about it because it was very clear that he was not in the right space mentally for anything that she desired.

“Ye-yeah im alright, just hit my head a little” she laughed awkwardly. “Maybe you should stay, that storm sounds heavy and I wouldn't want you to get in an accident” he said while helping you off the ground and helping you over to the couch. “Are you sure that's okay? I mean where would I sleep?” she couldn't keep eye contact, she was too nervous by the idea of waking up in the same house as Michael. “you would sleep in my bed” this made her even more nervous “and I would sleep on the couch”. She was hoping that he hadn't noticed how very red her face was. “Well I suppose it would be safer” she admitted.

He patted her on the shoulder and led her upstairs to where he slept and encouraged her shuffling inside. “ so I'll… be down stairs if you need anything”. And without another word he closed the door leaving her alone in his room. His hastiness worried her.

He shouldn't feel this way, he had only lost his wife a year ago and he couldn't move on so soon. But he was, I mean how could he not. She was kind and knew how to look after George Michael and that's not to mention how pretty she was. She was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, he couldn't deny it even if it felt so wrong to feel that way.

Michaels thoughts were cut short by the sound of socks thudding down the carpeted stairs. “Mr. Bluth?” she quietly questioned. “y/n, anything that you need? And you can call me Michael, in fact I insist on it”. He said while standing up and walking over to her. “Well… Michael” she pushed out, “I have nothing to sleep in, I would sleep in this but it's not very comfortable” she gestured to her clothing which, indeed, didn't look like something you could sleep in comfortably. She insisted on wearing professional clothes even though the job never required it, she thought it made her look older. “oh… yes, I'm sorry. You can probably wear some of my old clothes, I think I have some up there“

Michael quickly shuffled through his clothes in his closet, picking out clothes suitable for the girl to wear to bed. “Here, these should do'' he had handed her an old oversized button up shirt, one very similar to ones he wears on a daily basis, as well as a pair of shorts with very worn elastic around its waist. “Well, goodnight Mr- Michael” she clung the clothes Michael had given her tightly to her chest. Michael smiled “good night”

He left the room as quickly as he could, before he could convince himself to do anything he would regret. But she stopped him, grabbing his arm preventing him from leaving.

“Michael…”

“Y/N”

Her face flared with heat before she could even say what she was intending to say.

“I'm going to say something very inappropriate, something that may cause you to fire me” she paused, attempting to build up enough courage.

“Im… interested-” but he stopped her… with his mouth. His temptation had boiled over making him lose his sensibility.

But she pulled away almost as soon as it happened. “Mr. Bluth! Wh-what are you doing!?” she staggered. “I'm so sorry! I miss read this situation entirely, have a good night, i'll drive you home in the morning” he released his grip on her shoulders and rushed to the door.

“No, no! Quite the opposite, you just… didnt let me finish” she looked away.

“Oh” he said in a hushed voice.

“You may continue, I mean, if you'd like”

Michael walked towards her, and placed his hands either side of her face and slowly started to lean in to connect his lips with hers once again. y/n slowly started to reciprocate, etching her hands down from his shoulders onto his chest.

Michael walked her over to his bed, keeping their lips connected. He laid her down and slowly climbed on top of her, his right hand gliding down to her hip, his other placed above her head in order to prop him up. His right hand slowly started to lift up her shirt, bringing it over her head until he got to her shoulders, he disconnected their lips in order to take her shirt off all the way.

“Is this okay?” he asked as he reached for the back of her bra to confirm that she was enjoying this as much as he was.

“Yes” she quickly nodded as she saw her bra being thrown to some corner of the room.

“Is it okay if I try something” and again you nodded.

Michael grabbed her hips and brought her to the edge of the bed where he had knelt down, his face mere inches away from her crotch. This caused him to shut her legs out of instinct.

He quickly shot his head up “I don't have to”

“No, no it's ok, it's just, I guess I'm just a little nervy, ha…ha” she laughed nervously. He said no more, simply bringing his hands to her hips to unzip her skirt, tugging it down her legs alongside her underwear, leaving her naked.

“But before you do… that. Could you, take your shirt off or something, it feels slightly unfair that you're fully clothed and im… well, not” she said while holding his shoulders away from where her thighs meet. “oh yes, of course” he said as he began to unbutton his shirt and pull it off his shoulders.

“There, now, where was I?” it was a rhetorical question because he had already lent in and laid a long lick right along her slit. This caused y/n to release a loud whimper, that Michael loved to hear but, due to his child sleeping peacefully sleeping in the other room, would have to hear less of it.

“Shhh, baby, remember George Michael is in the other room, we can’t wake him” He whispered while holding his hand to her mouth. “Oh, oh, yeah” nodded once he had removed his hand.

Michael returned to your dripping pussy, but this time he added something. You could feel the heat of his palms sliding up your bare thigh, bringing his fingers directly to her hole. This made her whimper again, but not as loud, George Michael wouldn't have heard. He pushed his index and middle finger inside, moving them against her smooth walls.

His pace started to quicken and her thighs started to close in around his head as she started to get closer.

“Oh, oh! Michael!” she moaned, her walls squeezing in around his two fingers.

“Wow” she sighed as he removed his fingers from her.

“Yeah” he replied.

Michael then proceeded to stand up and begin to fiddle with his belt, loosening it and removing it as well as his pants, then his underwear followed.

He was big…

He climbs on top of her again. “Are you ready?” He pushed her hair out of her face. “Uh huh” she replied, cheeks still burning. “Okay”

He slowly pushed inside her, making sure not to go too fast, he was aware of his size, its hur other girls in the past.

He groaned as he bottomed out, and then slowly started to move his hips. “Does this feel good baby?”. He whispered into her ear. This admittedly turned her on even more. “mHM!!” her pitch was affected by an especially hard thrust that caused her voice to break a little, Michael thought it was cute.

Michael was getting close embarrassingly quick, he was out of practice. So to ensure that he didn't leave you in need, he reached his hand down to play with your clit. He seemed to enjoy this, it was given away by the embarrassing moan you let out.

“Michael… Im getting close” y/n whimpered while gripping onto his broad shoulders, nails making indents in his skin.

“So am I” he huffed, making his circles on her clit faster and the movement of his hips quicker. “Oh my god y/n”

And before either of them knew it, they were both cumming. His dick releasing warm liquid deep in her stomach and her walls squeezing him for dear life.

Michael rolled over onto his back, riddled with grief but somehow at the same time relief. He looked over at her, she was fast asleep, and at that moment, michael knew it was okay for him to move on. He pulled the blankets over himself and her, pulled her to his side and kissed her on the forehead.

“Goodnight y/n”.

#arrested development #michael bluth #smut #michael bluth x reader #arrested development x reader

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alaxamost · 3 months

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OK SO HEAR ME OUT ON THIS-

I need some of you to read my new idea of an au-

So-

It's a fanfic about Transformers Prime and Jojo's Bizzare Adventure in a somewhat modern world where our main characters would be Jonathan Joestar and Optimus Prime.

In the fanfic Jonathan lives with his father, all mighty CEO Geroge Joestar and the asshole of a stepbrother Dio Brando, who's a Law student. Jonathan himself is studying political science as well as archaeology, something hsi father totally doesn't aprove. The rest of the Joestars [aka Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo-Joestar, Jolyne Kujo-Joestar, Josuke Higashikata-Joestar, Johnny Joestar and Gappy Joestar] are their cousins but thanks to Dio's appearance on their childhood they started preferring him a bit more, leaving Jonathan behind.

So, Jonathan has a bad relationship with him and Geroge [his father] and it reached boiling point so George decides to disown him and leave him on the streets, leaving all his heritage to Dio.

So Jonathan is forced to leave but in the way he crossed paths with someone similar to him, this being the holographic form of Oprimus Prime, who's taking the shape of who would you think a older Jonathan, which, this encounter just sets off a new world for both of them. Optimus was actually on the active search of Geroge Joestar, because he had connections he had been helping the Decepticons, enemies of the Autobots, so basically he was waiting for him to be alone and eliminate him whilst disguising himself as a human.

@cerezzzita is the one who's currently reading everything I have so far but I need peeps to tell me what they think-

#alaxie writes #YES AGAIN #also like-#me goin crazy #transformers prime #jojo no kimyou na bouken

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mellohidisc · 3 years

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╰ ☆ ╮𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 - discord au ✰⋆

1.2k 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 | 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: "𝘉𝘢𝘣𝘦, 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘐 𝘢𝘮." // "𝘓𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘱𝘴 𝘣𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘳."

𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖘: 5/5 𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 || 𝘺/𝘯 & 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱

I plopped my bag on my unmade and definitely in need of a wash bedsheets. I looked down on it, scrunching my nose seeing blemish marks upon my white sheets. Don’t ask me what it is, maybe dirt? Marker? Maybe the last drops of a monster energy drink that I chucked across my room into the garbage can. I’m not too sure what exactly it is to be quite honest. I’ve been so busy and tired, and the state of my bedroom defiantly showed it. University is hard, especially when it isn’t your only responsibility. With all the homework, my job and trying to keep my long-distance relationship above water it is especially hard.

But for once, the world was on my side. It was the weekend, I didnt have work and nothing due soon for school. I could get a rest, fucking finally. I walked my self over to my desk, and sat down in the chair. Unlike George and his streamer friends with these super expensive duel monitor and pc set up bullshit, I just had my laptop, and fuck Dream for making fun of me for it. I unfolded it, pressing the power on button. I watched as it slowly booted up.

Okay, maybe Dream is right but still fuck him.

I refuse to give that man the satisfaction of saying "I told you so." After waiting for a few to let it boot up all the way, I clicked through onto discord.

sex havers and y/n.

fucking idiots, all five of them.

looking over to the voice channels i saw them all in vc 2. I pondered, and questioned if I was mentally stable enough to listen to karl and quackity scream into my ear. I knew the answer was no but...oh, my finger slipped.

"y/n!" karl yelped with excitement. I felt a second wind rip through my body. that was the effect these boys had on you, if you think you're tired you're actually not.

"hi george." i said brightly, knowing it would offend karl greatly.

"hi hun." he said shortly, taking me off guard. i could hear him slamming on his keyboard.

"what are you playing?" i asked, going to click on his discord profile to find out.

"phasmaphobia, come save me from karl. he's been screaming the whole time in the lobby."

"hell no babe, you're on your own im sorry."

"for once, i agree with them." dream chimed in, making me roll my eyes and make a fake gagging noise at him.

dream has one of the kindest hearts i know of. we just fucked around with each other, but we could never seriously hate each other. he was like a brother to me, and no not one of those weird fucked up "i have a crush on my boyfriends best friend" things, but just a genuine great friend.

my thoughts we're interrupted by a loud scream from sapnap, and quackity and karl yelling run. I winced, smashing the volume down button on my laptop.

"alright nope! no no im done! i am closing the game." george said frantically, you laughed as you watched his discord status change.

"awe did the ghostie boy scare you?" i tease gently, testing the waters. with george sometimes, i could never tell when the teasing would be too much.

before he could anwser, i saw karls face appear on my computer screen making me giggle. he had the camera zoomed all the way into his face, staring dead into the camera.

"george..." he growled lowly, making you laugh.

"yes karl?" george asked innocently.

"SCREW YOU!"

the whole call bursted into laughter, i watched my screen go from only karl to karl and quackity.

oh dear god...

anytime alex has his camera on we knew we were in for it.

i watched quackity as he grabbed a stuffed pillow from behind him, and a pair of scissors off his desk.

"george listen- listen to me. this pillow-" he waved it in front of the camera.

"this is you. now this is a pair of scissors." he proceeded to wave them in front of the camera also.

"now george, i want you to turn your camera on for me."

george groaned in protest.

"why-"

"SHUT UP AND DO IT!" quackity yelled, i whined at him to shut the hell up.

I watched the screen grow again into three cameras on, butterflies filling my stomach as I saw george's smile. sometimes it just feels so surreal to me, how he gave me the time of the day really. when I first meet him he didn't seem like the type to date anyone, and if he did he would have been the type to forget he was dating someone and not answer for days.

yet he proved me wrong.

being with george has been one of the best relationships i've been in. he was kind and caring, and yeah he had a hard times being comforting but he showed his compassion in other ways. whether it be a meme he made himself to make me laugh, or a something as small as sending me a cat video link.

"y/n! turn on your camera." sapnap demanded, making you frown your brows.

"what! why? since when did you have yours on sap?"

"well if you weren't day dreaming ab mr gog mister over here you would have saw me put it on."

I rolled your eyes. I scanned my bedroom and made a face. It is a fucking mess in here.

"okay but dream doesn't have his on." i point out, knowing that wasn't going to help me.

"yeah thats because its dream." karl retorted.

"turn it on."

The four of them stared to chant, as dream laughed in the background.

"I fucking hate you guys." I groaned, hitting the camera button on discord.

Quackity placed the bear and scissors down, standing up out of his seat to lean closer to the computer screen.

"holy shit y/n! did a hurricane come through your room or something?" he laughed, half jokingly.

the boys knew they couldn't genuinely say shit, after all they are boys.

"oh fuck off. i would love to see your bedroom."

"i guess this makes me the organized one in the relationship." george says proudly, gleaming with joy.

the boys and i laughed at him, watching his mouth slowly open wide and a look of disbelief spreading across his face.

"what! why are you laughing?"

"george, you and i both know you are the least organized person in the world." dream told him.

i giggled watching georges reactions to their comments. his mannerisms were apart of his humor, the hand gestures and the facial expressions.

"no okay no guys please. listen-"

"guys pleaseeee" sapnap whinned mockingly, sending us all into laughter.

"screw off! babe tell them how organized i am!" he yelled through a laugh.

my eyes widened, fuck. you tried quickly to think of a lie to make him look stupid but good at the same time.

"last night he ate his fruit loops by color." i said, nodding trying to sell it.

"HES FUCKING COLOR BLIND YOU LIAR!" dream yelled loudly.

i covered my mouth from laughing so hard. holy shit. thank god i dont have anything to do tomorrow its going to be a long night.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt fic #george x reader #georgenotfound x reader #geroge fanfic #george fluff #george imagines #george x y/n #mcyt fluff #mcyt imagine #feral boys fanfic

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prsfphone · 3 years

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languid | g.w. x reader

word count: 283

warnings: smut, nsfw, oral sex (female-receiving), hair pulling

a/n: just a little blurb bc i’m stuck on another piece😩

george’s hair was longer than he normally left it—and you could say it was because there was more of it there to grip onto that you were holding so tight, pulling so hard, but you knew, really, that it was because he had his head between your legs, on his knees, your legs over his shoulders. he was giving you absolutely no mercy tonight, and despite what you might protest to the contrary, you loved it this way. when he got all up in your space; that when you gasped for a breath, he was the one giving it to you.

he gave a long swipe upwards, to your clit, with his tongue. he knew exactly which buttons to push, exactly the way to touch you, to make you fall apart in his hands. but he was playing with you—tasting you. there seemed to be no other intention behind the broad strokes of his tongue, and it was driving you absolutely up the wall all the same.

you were just growing accustomed to his indolent taste-testing when suddenly he scraped his teeth lightly, lightly, across your clit. you let out a surprised sort of shriek and yanked at his hair so hard you would be surprised, later, that he wasn’t missing a chunk.

“sorry,” you gasped, and then, as he did it again, so did you: “sorry, sorry!”

george chuckled deeply against you, the hot air blowing across you making you squirm in his hold. “it’s okay, honey, you can pull my hair as hard as you want while i’m between your legs.”

and then he dove back into you and refused to let you get another word in inch wise.

#Harry Potter Smut #harry potter fanfic #geroge weasley smut #george weasley blurb #george weasley oneshot #george weasley fanfic #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n

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primitivejunketer · 2 years

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I Want to Tell You- A George Harrison FanFiction

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5

Chapter 6- A Tear Fell

Fic Summary: George and Rosemarie have been next door neighbors their entire lives. As they grow older, feelings grow stronger. Will they fall in love or fall apart? angst/fluff/slow burn

Chapter Summary: We gain some background on Rosemarie’s new school, and introduce a few new characters.

Word Count: 4165

Rating: T

Warnings: Language/Minor affection

Note from the author: So I honestly thought I was going to abandon this fic, but I got a random wave of motivation and cranked out the longest chapter yet. I’m sorry it’s so long, but it’s a pretty easy read so I hope it isn’t too boring. As always, thank you so much for reading. Enjoy!

Listen while you read! xx

July 16, 1955

Finally the last day of school. Rose couldn’t wait. The end of year activities had been so time consuming, Rose and George hadn’t seen one another since Rose’s birthday a month ago.

Over the few months that Rose had been going to Trinity Catholic Girls’ School, she had only made two friends. Eloise and Marina were all that got her through school. Being that she had started in the middle of the year, it was hard for her to fit in. Not to mention, Rose nor her family were actually Catholic. Since Rose started at Trinity, Nancy Canes was the worst thing to happen to her.

Nancy started a rumor that Rose was an orphan. Since Rose and her parents weren’t technically members of the church and because Rose always had George and Paul pick her up after school, Nancy made up some elaborate rumor that they were her adopted brothers and the church was doing charity by allowing Rose to attend the school.

In reality, Rose’s father took up a second job so that her family could afford to send her to private school. Trinity just happened to be the school within walking distance and her parents were married in a Catholic Church. Really, they had all the proof they needed.

After about two weeks of Rose attending Trinity is when it started. One day George and Paul’s bus was late.

“Waiting for your brothers, Marie?” Nancy spat.

“My name is Rosemarie. You may call me Rose.” Rose deadpanned, hoping Nancy would become bored with this cheap entertainment.

“If they’re not your brothers then they must be your boyfriends. How scandalous you are little RoseMARY.” Nancy sneered.

“They are just my friends, Nancy.” Rose huffed, resting her chin in her hand and leaning forward on her knees.

Nancy pressed on with her rumors. Telling the school that Rose was poor, couldn’t afford a new uniform and needed hand me down donations from the church.

It was only a matter of days before Nancy had told virtually the entire school.

Rose met Marina shortly after the rumor began.

“Psst.”

Rose was focused on writing her Language Arts essay quickly so she could get home and see George.

“PSST!”

The sound was coming from behind her. She couldn’t hear exactly where it was coming from, but figured it was Nancy, attempting to torment her.

“Hey!” A harsh whisper-yell came from directly behind her.

“What?!” She whisper-yelled back through her teeth, turning around.

“You’re Rose, right?” The girl behind her asked.

Rose sighed, she already knew what question was coming.

“Yes, I’m Rose. No, I’m not an orphan.” She deadpanned.

“What? Oh, no. I know.” The girl responded quickly. “I’m Marina. Sorry about Nancy.”

“Oh, it’s alright.” Rose brushed Marina off, not knowing what she wanted.

“Anyway, just wanted you to know there’s good people at this school too,” she motioned to herself and the girl sitting next to her.

The girl beside her waved and smiled. Rose waved and smiled back.

Since that day, the three girls have been inseparable. At least at school anyway.

Rose was terrified to let any of her girl friends meet George or Paul. She wanted to avoid the drama on both sides. As selfish as it was, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she didn’t want anyone taking George from her.

The two had avoided any talk of feelings or any talk of the kiss since it happened. They basically went on as normal as if it never happened. But that didn’t take the feelings away. They still wanted to be around one another all the time and they were still each other’s favorite person.

Being that it was finally the last day of school, Rose figured it was time that she introduced the boys and girls after all.

She wanted to be able to spend time with everyone over the summer and this seemed to be the only right way to do it.

“Alright, Rose, so I know George is your boyfriend, but what about Paul? You said he’s tall right?” Eloise went on and on about how excited she was and how dreamy she thought Paul would be.

“El, George is not my boyfriend! Don’t say that in front of him. You’ll freak him out.” Rose groaned.

“Well, are you kissing anyone else?” Marina laughed.

“Stop!” Rose shushed Marina, tugging on her shirt sleeve.

As if on cue, Paul and George approached.

Rose hopped up from the curb swiftly, embracing George first. She soon realized that her hug may have lingered for too long. To recover, she grabbed Paul in a half hug.

“Alright, let’s get it over with.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“Marina and Eloise, George and Paul. George and Paul, Marina and Eloise.” She motioned back and forth to them.

“Very lovely to meet you, ladies.” Paul immediately switched over to his cheeky self and shook their hands, giving them both a small peck.

Marina and Eloise blushed and shared glances of excitement with one another and with Rose. Rose returned the look with a scoff and a smile.

George put out his hand to shake and quickly introduced himself to the girls.

The five of them walked together through the sunny town.

“I am so glad school is over!” Paul exclaimed.

“What’re your plans for the summer?” Marina asked him.

“George and I are gunna start a band.” He grinned widely and wiggled his eyebrows at George.

“Really?” Rose piped up.

“Mhm,” George started, he had a mouth full of a candy bar and couldn’t speak, “gunna be the best skiffle band in Liverpool!”

“Best in the country!” Paul replied excitedly.

“In the world!!” George giggled.

Rose watched Marina and Eloise practically swoon over George and Paul and she laughed.

Being a musician was something George always wanted. He grew up with music and it’s been his life from day one. The moment he first picked up a guitar, it just felt right.

Rose knew this. She knew that music was his entire heart and soul. George wouldn’t be George without a guitar in his hands and a grin on his face.

Although it was a joke to George, the idea of him actually becoming a famous musician was not a distant thought in Rose’s mind. She thought about it often. She feared George would leave and forget about her. That he’d be too famous for little Liverpool. Too famous for her.

Rose didn’t spend much time thinking about what she wanted to be when she grew up. She knew for sure that she definitely didn’t want to be a nurse like her mother. Her mother was a strong woman for what she did- especially during the war, but Rose saw how exhausted, how hurt her mother was. She knew that her mother carried the weight of a thousand burdens and still stayed strong enough.

Rose didn’t see herself as strong. She was afraid of everything. She made up ridiculous scenarios in her head that could never come true, yet she was still afraid of them. She feared that something would happen to her parents, or that George would leave, or die, or that the world would end, or she would come down with an illness, or her father would get laid off, or—

“Rose!” George nearly shouted at her.

“Huh?” Rose was quickly snapped back to reality, “oh sorry, I was just- uh-… thinking.”

Marina and Eloise laughed at her.

“Thinking about George in a skiffle band?” Eloise quietly singsong teased at Rose.

Rose elbowed Eloise, “what did I tell you?! Cut it out!” She playfully hissed.

The group had finally arrived at Rose and George’s favorite record store. The one they’d been kicked out of on multiple occasions for either knocking things over or playing music too loud. The shopkeep, Simon, knew the two well by now so when they caused a ruckus they had to pay up by working for a few hours. They never minded because that meant they could go through all of the brand new records and before anyone else. They’d save up whatever allowance and lunch money they could to save up for sparkly new albums.

“What ruffians have you two brought into my shop this time?” Simon jokingly greeted.

“Only the WORST of little Catholic schoolgirls!” Rose said dramatically.

The five of them spent the first day of summer walking around town, listening for any sign of good music or fun. Rose took every moment in as if it was the last time she would ever experience this. She wanted to remember things this way forever.

October 23, 1955

The summer came and went and Rose wished so terribly that it never ended. Another year older means more time at school and less time for fun. She hadn’t seen George since the last day of summer. Every day he was either staying late at school or going to Paul’s to practice. Rose was busy herself, she started a Journalism Club at Trinity and she, Marina, and Eloise were rather consumed with reporting all of the news in Trinity Catholic School for Girls- and there was a lot.

As much as Rose loved her time with George, she’d grown rather close to her two best gals.

She hadn’t had any more romantic encounters with George since the kiss 8 months ago. They may have exchanged a long glance every so often, but nothing more. After all, they hadn’t spent time alone together in a while.

For what seemed like the first time in weeks, Rose went straight home after school with no companionship. Normally she’d linger at the school, do journalism club, or have the girls over. Today was different. She needed space.

Rose entered an empty home. Both of her parents were away at work. The house seemed eerily quiet. She rarely came home before them.

She took off her shoes and sat on the sofa but something just didn’t feel right.

“I can’t be here like this.” She mumbled to herself, slipping her shoes back on.

She decided to go for a walk. As she stepped onto the pavement, she looked left and right. Right was the way to George’s house. She decided to go left.

As she walked, she stared at her feet, counting her steps as she went, thinking about nothing… and everything.

She continued making left turns around the block, not looking up much. Before she knew it, she was standing in front of George’s house.

She slowed to a stop and her eyes gently gazed up at the familiar building. She sat and stared for a moment. She considered knocking. Hell, she considered going to George’s every day. He just didn’t seem as eager anymore. Rose felt that he’d grow bored of her. That he was growing bored of her.

The sound of a lock clicked and before she could react, the front door opened.

“Rosie?” George chimed.

The nickname and sweet tone in his voice nearly made Rose’s heart melt.

“Hi, George.” Rose replied, awkwardly.

“What’re you doing here?” He laughed.

“I was in the neighborhood.” Rose beamed, trying not to smile.

“Good one,” George laughed, “would you like to come in?”

“Alright,” She wanted more than nothing but to come in, but didn’t want to seem too eager.

Rose slowly followed George inside.

“I’m not interrupting anything, right?” Rose timidly questioned.

“No not at all, Mum’s just making supper.” He motioned to his mother in the kitchen.

“Rosemarie!” She exclaimed happily, embracing the girl.

“Hi, Mrs. Harrison.” She greeted back.

“Our little Rosie, it seems like we haven’t had you over in ages.” Mrs. Harrison cooed.

“Yeah, it’s been busy… y’know, school and stuff.” Rose couldn’t place it, but something felt awkward.

“Well, if you’re not busy today, we’d love to have you for dinner. I know George surely does miss you.”

“Mum!” George interrupted, his cheeks turning rosy.

Mrs. Harrison smiled as the two retreated upstairs, George practically dragging Rose away before his mother could say anything more.

Rosemarie laid on George’s floor, staring at his ceiling. She imagined stars and planets swirling above her.

George sat on his bed, playing guitar and humming. They could faintly hear Mrs. Harrison’s Indian music and the subtle tapping together of pots and pans coming from downstairs.

“So,” George started awkwardly, his words stuck in the back of his throat, “there’s going to be this Halloween party at Paul’s church.”

By now, Rose had sat up and was looking at George.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go?” He grew nervous as he gazed into Rose’s eyes, “I mean- only if you want to… And you could bring Marina and Eloise too… if you wanted.”

Rose tried to ignore the little flutter in her chest. George inviting her to the party almost felt like a date. But he invited Marina and Eloise, too. So how much of a date could it really be?

Rose hated how many thoughts flooded her mind. Of course she wanted to see George and spend time with him, he was her best friend. But ever since they kissed she couldn’t shake her feelings. Being alone with George felt different, it was exciting. She felt like she had to repress herself around him now- like if she didn’t try her hardest she might accidentally kiss him again.

Rose swallowed her thoughts and feelings so she could respond, “we’ll be there.” She half smiled at George.

He could tell there was something off about Rose. He knew it was from the kiss but he wouldn’t dare bring it up. So instead he pretended he didn’t see it. He distanced himself from her and tried to act normal.

Neither of the two knew what normal was anymore. That kiss changed them forever.

“George please,” Rose finally blurted. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“What?” George decided to keep up with the clueless act.

“Why did you kiss me?” Rose didn’t mean to be so straight to the point, but she couldn’t think of any better way to put it.

“What do you mean?” The boy was caught off guard and didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know why he kissed Rose. He just did, he just wanted to.

Rose was obviously annoyed with his response, “You can’t just expect me to forget it happened. I want us to go back to normal but it just feels strange.”

George finally understood the impact it had on Rose. He saw it eating at her. The more she talked about it, the more he realized it was eating at him, too.

“I just felt like I had to.” George didn’t know what else to say, “I want to go back to normal, too. We can act like it didn’t happen. We’ll be good old G and Rosie again.” He smiled, hoping his words would make her feel better.

“I would like that,” Rose smiled and her eyes met George’s, “fresh start,” she said, putting out her hand for him to shake. He shook and the two grinned. Things sort of felt okay again.

The day of the Halloween party had arrived and Rose still hadn’t decided on a costume.

Marina was dressed as a cute clown, she wore a pale face with rosy cheeks and a red nose and fluffy hair.

Eloise went with a more classic look, cutting holes in her bed sheets for a ghost costume.

Rose was dressed in a dress that her Aunt Dominique had made for her in Paris. It was black with a deep purple trim and had a matching purple ascot. As she was getting dressed, a knock came from the door.

Rose’s mother entered with a smile.

“Darling, I thought this might help.” She pulled a cute felt witch’s hat from behind her back. She had customized it with a ribbon the same color as Rose’s ascot.

“Mum it’s perfect!” She exclaimed.

The witch, the ghost, and the clown walked down the pavement to the party.

“Do you think George will ask you to dance?” Eloise asked Rose.

“No, El. It’s not like that. We’re just friends. We’ll always just be friends.” Rose wouldn’t admit she liked the idea of having a dance with him, but she didn’t want to indulge in her feelings.

“Do you want to always be friends? Only friends?...Forever?” Marina asked.

Rose bit her lip and thought about it for a moment. She knew the risks of accepting feelings. She knew that even if George did feel the same way, and they someday started a relationship, it would just end up complicating things. Plus, it was too easy to get hurt, or worse- lose him.

The trio eventually arrived at the church and it was a lively scene. They had no idea where George and Paul would be, so they enjoyed their girl time.

The church was set up like a carnival, with games and treats. The three girls were playing a game when Rose looked up and saw them.

Twin cowboys strutted through the church grounds, one slightly taller than the other.

“Oh. My. God.” Rose gasped, trying not to shriek with laughter.

Marina and Eloise quickly looked up and joined in with Rose’s laughter.

“Howdy, little darlin’s.” Paul greeted, with a strong southern American accent, tipping his hat.

“Ladies,” George did the same.

“You two look amazing!” Marina laughed, touching Paul’s leather jacket.

“Where did you get these costumes?!” Eloise gawked.

“My mum made ‘em.” Paul beamed, proud of his mother’s work.

“Tell her to open a shop, these are magnificent!” Rose complimented.

The five of them had a blast at the party, Rose and George released the feelings of awkwardness and enjoyed their time together.

While the group snacked on popcorn, a man walked up onto a stage to get everyone’s attention.

“That’s the pastor,” Paul informed.

“Thank you all for coming this evening. In just a moment, our church band will begin the entertainment for tonight.” The Pastor announced. He retreated from the stage and a few men took his place, preparing instruments.

“George!” A voice shouted.

George and all four of his friends turned to see what it was.

“Oh, no. Not her.” Paul muttered.

Before anyone could ask what he meant, she was in front of them.

“Hello, Daphne.” George monotonically greeted.

“Georgie! It’s so good to see you!” She squealed, grasping him in a tight embrace, her blonde curls bouncing and pink tutu surrounding him.

Rose’s mouth grew sour. Who the absolute hell is this? Surely George would have mentioned Daphne before, especially with how friendly she was.

“Paulie! Great to see you too!” She shouted, squeezing Paul as well.

“Who are your…” she looked the girls up and down, “friends?” She flashed a fake smile.

“This is Rose, Eloise, and Marina.” Paul said motioning at the girls, “Ladies, this is… Daphne.” He introduced her embarrassingly aniticlamatic.

Before any of the girls could respond, Daphne started up again.

“Anyway, boys, some of the church band is running late tonight and my father said you could fill in until they get here. We really need you.” She whined.

George and Paul would never pass up an opportunity to play, especially for an audience. The two vibrated with excitement. George shot Rose a look, almost as if he were asking her permission. Rose swallowed any ounce of jealousy and smiled at George. As long as he’s happy, she thought.

“Meet us behind the stage after?” Paul suggested to the group. The girls nodded back in agreement.

Paul and George made their way to the stage, Daphne dragging them along.

Rose, Marina, and Eloise approached the stage, front and center so they could cheer on their pals.

The church band began to ascend onto the stage, Paul and George following timidly behind. The excitement and confidence they had mere moments ago vanished as reality set in for the two boys.

George found his place on stage and gulped. Suddenly, he felt so silly in his cowboy costume. With all of the eyes in the room on him, he grew hot. His clothes felt too tight. Then, his eyes met Rose’s.

She was grinning widely at him, her face glowing with pride.

“You’ve got this!” She mouthed at George.

Not long after they started playing, George loosened up. He was in the music- he was apart of it. It didn’t matter to him that they were playing gospel music, they were playing music.

After about three songs, the pastor informed the group that the actual band members had arrived. The crowd applauded Paul and George for their talents as well and good sportsmanship.

Paul and George retreated to the back of the stage. Rose, Marina and Eloise followed, expecting to meet them. By the time the girls had discovered where the stage entrance was, the boys were nowhere to be found.

“I thought they were supposed to meet us here.” Marina groaned, rubbing her feet. She had borrowed her mother’s high heels for the costume, but quickly regretted it.

“It’s alright,” Rose started, “they’re probably in the loo or something. I’ll go find them. You can rest here.” Rose had no idea where the loo even was, but she figured there were only so many places the boys could be.

Rose wandered around the hallways of the church community center. She eyed the plaques beside the doors. Some had numbers, some had names, but most of them were locked. Finally, she approached a door that was cracked open. The plaque beside the door read “Practice Room”.

She pulled the door open and was immediately faced with a horror. Dead in the center of the dim room were George and Daphne- lips locked.

“Oh my God- I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what to do. She felt hot and her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. The agonizing pang in her chest was a feeling she had never experienced before. Her body moved as if in autopilot, kicking into fight or flight. She quickly turned around and retreated down the hallway, running.

“Rose! Wait!” She could faintly hear the shout as she turned the corner, exiting the building.

She approached Marina and Eloise, not stopping as she walked past.

“Rose? Where are you going? Where are George and Paul?” Eloise questioned as her friend ignored her existence. She shot Marina a concerned look and the girls made haste to catch up with Rose.

Rose was angry. She was sad. She was jealous. She was mad at herself. She could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks in the chill October night.

“Rose, what happened?!” Eloise, grabbed Rose’s arm, halting her stomping.

She turned to face the girls, a mess of mascara and eyeliner running down her face.

“George was kissing Daphne.” She nearly sobbed. She thought she sounded so pathetic when she said it, like it was the end of the world. She didn’t even know why she was jealous. She and George were only friends and he could kiss whomever he saw fit.

Despite how pathetic Rose thought she was being, her two best gals were always there for her.

“Aww, love, I’m so sorry.” Marina cooed, embracing Rose.

“He’ll come around, Rosie. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Eloise reassured, joining in the embrace.

Rose sniffled, “I shouldn’t even care. We just had a chat about how things are normal again. I don’t even know why I’m so upset.”

Marina pat her back, “You love him. Nothing to be ashamed of.” She smiled at Rose.

The three girls returned to Rose’s house and bundled into their pajamas. Rose’s mother made them cozy cups of tea to comfort them to bed.

Rose felt better, surrounded by the love of her best friends and her parents. She hoped she would soon forget what she had seen. But of course things didn’t work like that. The image felt as if it had been carved into her brain- frozen in time there forever.

She observed her friends- Eloise lying sprawled out on the floor, mouth hanging open, Marina crumpled into light blue velvet chair in the corner of the room, her head resting in her hand. They looked so peaceful. Rose decided that for now, she would sleep, too. She could deal with her feelings in the morning.

Her breathing slowed and her shoulders sank as she finally relaxed, drifting off to sleep.

*TAP*

…

*TAP*

Rose’s eyes sprung open. As her vision adjusted, she focused on the room around her. She saw her two friends, Eloise now lying on her side, snoring lightly, Marina now slumped down in the chair, her head resting on the arm rest.

*TAP*

Rose soon realized the sound came from her window. She moved slowly and quietly, careful not to wake her friends. She pulled back the curtain and opened the window with a ghostly stillness, poking her head out of the open space.

“George?”

#The Beatles #George Harrison #Paul McCartney #John Lennon #Ringo Starr #the beatles fanfic #the beatles fanfiction #geroge harrison fanfic #George Harrison fan fiction #iwtty

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smoooothoperator · 2 years

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Hii!! I'm having a lot of struggle with my inspiration and I'm a bit busy with work... so if any of you want to help me giving me ideas I would appreciate it a lot.

I write for George, Mick, Charles, Pierre and Lando

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lunaslethifold · 3 years

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The Hardest Decision (George Weasley x Muggle!Reader)

Pairing: George Weasley x Female!Muggle!Reader

Synopsis: George made up his mind. Sure, it was the toughest thing he ever decided to do, but he had to do it for Y/N. The only problem was breaking the news to her.

Warnings: ANGST, one swear word I think

Word Count: ~1.5k

A/N: Hey guys, I got this idea while watching Deathly Hallows Part 1. It’s like the Hermione situation with her parents. I’m sure I’ve seen this done before with many different characters, so I’d thought I’d give it a shot. Unfortunately I had to rush a little at the end and I’m sorry :( Maybe I’ll rewrite this one day. And just to be clear this has nothing to do with my George series! Anyways, I hope you enjoy and sorry for any grammatical errors!

This was the hardest decision that George had ever had to make. Other life changing things he decided to do always gave him a good feeling. Leaving Hogwarts. Opening the joke shop. But this one just left a pit in his stomach. He felt extremely guilty, really.

A part of him wished that he hadn’t introduced his muggle girlfriend, Y/N, to the magical world. He’d met her one day when he and Fred were out and about in a muggle city. The main reason why he showed her his abilities was because he knew that she was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. They’d met the summer before his sixth year and he had been smitten ever since. George intended to marry her. Not to mention that he felt like he could trust her with anything. But even association with him put her in danger, he supposed.

He’d gotten the idea from Hermione, actually. Since they both had muggle loved ones, he’d often talk about his worries with her. There was really only one option George felt he had. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to keep her safe. And with the ministry and death eaters targeting muggles and muggleborns, he had to do this. He would have to obliviate Y/N.

George felt like he had to tell Y/N what he was going to do before he did it. Hermione hadn’t told her parents, but it was like an obligation to him. It felt wrong to just go up to her, point his wand, and erase himself from her life. He had to explain himself, even if she forgot after. It was the more painful option, but he had to get it out there. As if maybe, somehow, Y/N would understand. As if it would change what he was about to do.

Maybe his decision to tell her was more for himself. It’d give him a cleaner conscience.

And so he found himself on his way to Y/N’s flat. It wasn’t far from the Leaky Cauldron, so he decided to walk. It’d give him some time to get ready and hype himself up. But all it seemed to do was psych him out more. The closer he got, the more he fiddled with his clothes and ran his hands through his hair.

Once George made it there, he took a deep breath and brought his hand up to knock on the door. It floated in the air a second, hesitating, before he finally knocked 5 times in their pattern.

Their pattern was originally Y/N’s idea. Whenever George came to visit her, he would simply knock the pattern and Y/N would let him in without having to check who it was. She could just look through the peephole, sure, but where was the fun in that? Every time she heard it her heart leaped with joy and this time was no different. She shut off the show she had been watching and walked over to the door. She wasn’t expecting him today, so it was a pleasant surprise.

“Georgie!” Y/N said with a wide smile on her face after she opened the door. She automatically stepped out of the way to let him in. He stepped inside and the door was closed behind him.

“Hi lovely,” he said, planting a light kiss on her forehead. He did a good job masking the emotion in his voice, but Y/N could tell something was off right away.

They moved into the living room. “Everything okay?” Y/N said, moving closer to him and placing a gentle hand on his arm. George’s heart fluttered at her concern but it felt like it was being smashed to pieces right after.

“As okay as it can be,” he answered. Y/N knew all about what was going on in the wizarding world and what was at stake. Oftentimes George would vent to her and tell her things that he didn’t tell anyone else, because he felt that it would just burden them more and they didn’t need extra stress. He told her about his worries and his hopes as she held him on late nights. As she looked at him, he just felt more and more conflicted about what he decided to do.

He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. He wanted to kiss her goodnight and know that he could run back into her arms the next day. But no. He had to keep her safe, no matter what. Staying with her would be selfish.

George tore his gaze away from her kind eyes and moved to sit on the couch. She joined him and instinctively snuggled up next to him. If it was possible, his heart ached more at that. He enjoyed the warmth for a second before pulling away to face her.

She sent him a questioning look. “Erm… I have to tell you something, love,” George said, eyes darting around guiltily. Y/N sensed his uneasiness and her worry increased tenfold. She nodded, encouraging him to go on and scooted closer to him. He almost put more distance between them, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. She just looked so concerned for him.

As George was having an internal battle about what to say, doubt began to cloud in Y/N’s mind. What was going on? Was he going to break up with her? Tell her that he’s in love with a witch and couldn’t see her anymore? She tried to push the thoughts out of her head. Focus on George, she thought. He needs you right now.

Yes, he does need her right now. He needs her to understand. Understand why he would do this to her. He loved her with his entire being and if this is what it took to ensure nothing would happen to her, so be it.

“Well…” he started, letting out a huff.

“Take your time,” she said kindly.

George took a deep breath and started over. “Well… you know about everything that’s been going on… the war and all…” She nodded in understanding, dreading the news that was about to come. She could tell by the way he was approaching the situation that she wouldn’t like it.

“Er… they’ve been targeting muggleborns and- and muggles too…” Y/N was confused. Where was he going with this? “And you know that I would do anything to keep you safe. I am doing everything to keep you safe.”

Y/N bit her lip in thought. “Nothing’s happened to me, George-”

“Nothing yet, Y/N, yet. But the ministry’s been monitoring my family. It’s only a matter of time before they find out about you,” George suddenly exclaimed, frustration leaking into his tone.

“What are you trying to say, Georgie?” she said softly, a knot forming in her stomach. His chest hurt at the use of his nickname.

“Y/N, I have to-” he started, swallowing harshly. He looked her in the eyes determinedly. “I have to obliviate you.”

Her eyes widen in hurt and confusion. “Obliviate me? As in, erase my memory?”

“Yes.”

Y/N’s head was spinning, “What?! Why? I don’t understand,” she said, her voice shaking.

“It’s the only way I’ll know you’ll be safe.” Tears sprung into both of their eyes, but George’s voice kept steady.

“You can’t just- just-” she said, raising her voice. “Erase our entire relationship! You can’t do that!”

He let out a shaky breath. “Don’t you see, Y/N, I have to do this.”

“No, George! I don’t see! Please explain it to me! You want to throw away, what, four years?”

“Please, just try to understand. Like I said, I’m already being targeted. They’ll come after you straight away. Muggles and muggleborns have-”

She cut him off, “I don’t give a damn, George! I’d risk it all for you. Please, listen. We can find a way through this. If we just-”

“I’m not willing to let you die for me,” George said, voice cracking slightly. “I hope you know I’m doing this because I love you.” He pulled his wand out from the place it was tucked in his clothes. She felt her heart split in her chest.

Y/N tried to choke down her sobs. “No! If you really loved me-” she paused for a second as he began to raise his arm. “You’d-”

“I’m sorry,” he said as tears poured down both of their faces. Y/N shook her head and tried reaching out to him one last time. “Obliviate.”

And the last memory, the last interaction between Y/N and George was pure, unadulterated pain for both of them.

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mentally-in-northern-italy · 4 years

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Raising the Stakes — Oliver Wood x reader

***not my GIF***

Summary: you are the newly appointed Slytherin captain, ambitious to win at least one match after your two previous losses. But when the stakes are raised, you seem to be playing for more than just to clear your name as a “failed” captain.

Word Count: ~3.4K

A/N: OH MY GOSH! I’m so sorry, I know I “announced” that I would be writing my first fic a while ago, but to be honest, I was so overwhelmed with everything else that I had to keep putting it off. Anyway, this fic is super duper long, because I totally got carried away while writing, I’m so sorry! It’s a lengthy one, but if you give this a read, I’d be so grateful! Feedback is more than welcome, as I’ve never really done this before. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy!! :)

____________________________________________________________________

The day before a Quidditch game was always tough for you. And, rightfully so, seeing as the pressure that was put on you every single time was incredibly overwhelming. See, this year was not a good year for Slytherins when it came to Quidditch. When Marcus Flint was temporarily suspended from his position as Quidditch Captain due to very distasteful, (what many would refer to as... foul) play, they needed someone who could fill his shoes, and fast.

You just had to be the one who got the short end of the stick.

Being Quidditch Captain came with many benefits, of course -- anyone could see that. You were able to order around everyone on the team, especially the people who you didn’t get along with too well, decide the times for practices to fit your schedule best and if the match resulted in a victory, get all the credit for the marvellous match.

Except every seemingly perfect thing has its flaws, after all. Flint’s shoes as Captain were hard to fill. Many people at Hogwarts may tell you that he is the most disgusting, obnoxious, and arrogant person around… and they wouldn’t be wrong. But what many people cleverly omit is that he is a brilliant Quidditch player -- when he doesn’t resort to cheating. The Slytherin Quidditch team, under his strong guidance, was practically unbeatable. They were doing better than they’ve done in years. Needless to say, when they won match after match, the team’s thrilling victories were all attributed to the fact that they had someone as masterful and godly as Flint as their Captain.

You, however, had a different approach as Captain. While you weren’t an angel, you certainly weren’t Flint. Your approach to leadership may be considered too laid-back for some, but you never wanted to be as overbearing as Flint.

Unfortunately, this approach wasn’t exactly successful. The Slytherin team had now broken their winning streak, and lost two games ever since you were appointed Captain. Naturally, they blamed these losses on your failed leadership.

The first game that was played with you appointed as the new Slytherin Captain was against Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff had a strong team, their plays were tactful and their brilliant seeker, Cedric, almost always managed to pull through and catch the snitch. However, and one can blame it on the fact that this was because you were simply a Slytherin, you and the rest of your team had severely underestimated the sunshine-coloured team. Call it overconfidence or just sheer misfortune, you and your team had not trained nearly hard enough and the match was over extremely quickly, and all the plays that you had devised, hunched over in the common room, all went to waste.

This was a devastating loss for Slytherin, as it had broken their streak. People whispered about you whenever you walked by them in the halls, spreading gossip and judgement because of your failed leadership.

But true to the verdant-coloured house’s core values, they stayed loyal to you. Many excused your failure by simply taking into account the fact that it was your first match as Captain, after all. The second one will be better… right?

Wrong.

For your second match, you took the opposite approach. You trained hard, and made sure that everyone else trained hard as well.

Oliver, the Gryffindor team’s beloved Captain, took notice of how often the Quidditch team was booked under your name. And he would never give up on an opportunity to tease you.

Oliver and yourself, had a complicated relationship. You were never exactly friends… no, that was definitely not the right word. You two had a few classes together, but barely ever talked off the Quidditch pitch. You thought he was incredibly infuriating with his smug smile plastered on his face 24/7 and his thick Scottish accent. But even you, couldn’t deny that he was attractive. He thought you were… well, this bit was a bit more complicated.

He didn’t like you, but he couldn’t possibly hate you. He had always thought you were incredibly pretty and the way you always raised your hand in class was adorable. He loved how out-spoken you were… that is, until you picked up a Quidditch broom.

You could still remember your first match like it was yesterday. You had done a spectacular job as a chaser, scoring not five but six goals against Oliver. And when the Slytherin seeker finally caught the snitch, your team had consequently won that match. You were ecstatic, meanwhile Oliver had decided that it was his new-found goal to beat you. After the match, he had come up to you and told you that you had played horribly. Taken aback a bit, you gave him no response, but only smiled at him coolly. Your smile perfectly disguised your new-found resentment of the Gryffindor, who instead of congratulating you, had just insulted you.

“Training hard, I see,” he said as he jogged over now, to you one evening after a particularly lengthy training session. You were bent over, trying to properly place all the balls in their rightful places in the box.

You looked up to glance at him before turning your head back downwards, paying no attention to him.

“You know, Ravenclaws aren’t particularly skilled when it comes to Quidditch,” he said casually as he took in how attractive you still looked, even when you were drenched in sweat.

“Thank you for your input, Wood,” you said sarcastically, not even bothering to look up.

“No problem,” he smiled at you smugly as you began to stand up, “I think you can beat them. Good luck.”

“Why would you want me to win?” You questioned with narrowed eyes. This was not like Oliver.

“Because no matter what happens in the match tomorrow,” he drawled as he leaned in slightly, “Gryffindor will still beat you.”

There it was.

You groaned and shoved him lightly and started to walk off. You could hear him chuckling under his breath as he watched your receding figure.

But when it came down to it, in the middle of the match, most of your team had begun to realize that there was no way they were going to come out of this victorious if they followed your plays. Malfoy, ever so resourceful, pulled the rest of the team aside and advised them to completely abandon the plays that you once again had worked hard for and try offensive.

This lack of unity within your team inevitably led to another loss.

And your house was not happy.

___________________

So, here you were, eating your breakfast in the Great Hall with extremely shaky hands. You could not afford to lose the match tomorrow. There was no way you could let that happen. That would surely end your Quidditch career before it even started, and the whispering in the halls would not come to a stop. You tried to run through the Quidditch plays once again in your head, to ensure you had them down for the practice tonight when Malfoy swaggered in and took a seat beside you.

“We better not lose again, [Y/L/N],” he grunted as he reached over to grab the jam, “you’ve failed us enough.”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” you snapped at him after rolling your eyes so far back into your head that it hurt a little, “maybe if you played well and followed my plays that I spend HOURS creating, we would do better.”

“Whatever,” he muttered under his breath as he took a bite, “Flint was better.”

With a groan you decided that you had had enough food to eat. You felt as though if you ate anymore, you would surely have to rush to the girls’ lavatory and throw up. You stood up and started to head towards the exit of the Great Hall, not having any particular idea what exactly it was that you were heading towards.

All you knew is that you had to win.

____________________

“[Y/L/N],” called two familiar voices from somewhere behind you.

You had been walking, on your way to the common room, to try to have a final look at the Quidditch plays when you heard the seemingly identical voices.

You turned around to see the Weasley twins, with Oliver, standing in the hallway, discussing something hurriedly. Oliver’s back had been turned to you, but it wasn’t hard to recognize his very distinct broad shoulders that Quidditch had blessed him with.

Oliver turned around and met your gaze, before looking back at the twins confusedly.

“Um, yes?” you said, reluctantly as you walked closer to them.

The twins had a toothy grin stuck on their face which, you decided, was not a good sign. This meant that they were up to something. Oliver continued to look between the two twins and, occasionally you, with a dumb-founded look.

“Ready for the match tomorrow?” one of the red-headed twins asked in a teasing matter.

“Yes, actually, I am,” you said rather defensively. You crossed your arms to try to look more intimidating but this clearly failed as the other twin started to snicker.

“You know, Oli here thinks so too,” the other one started to say as he clapped Oliver’s shoulder, “he’s a little scared about tomorrow. Doesn’t think we can beat you.”

You raised your eyebrows at this. Well, this was a new development. You looked at Oliver for confirmation.

“What? N--” he exclaimed at the twins before the twin to his right shushed him and cut him off.

“Georgie and I think it would be rather fun to raise the stakes, don’t you think?” Fred said quickly before Oliver could interrupt him again, “Motivate him a little, perhaps?”

Oliver had gone back to looking lost.

You didn’t say anything to this but George must have picked up some sort interest in your gaze.

“Tell you what, [Y/N], you win tomorrow and Oli boy here,” he says as he claps Oliver’s shoulders again, making him slightly wince in pain, “owes you a favour.”

Oliver opens his mouth to say something but is once again, cut off.

“Anything you want.” Fred said.

“Whenever you want.” George finished.

You opened your mouth to reply but you were unable to find the right words. Of course, you wanted this. You could make Oliver give over all his booked quidditch pitch hours, you could make him carry your books, do your homework---

“Hello?” George said as he jokingly waved a hand in front of your face.

“Uh, yes! I mean, yes. Yes, that sounds good, I guess.” You said as you tuned back into the conversation.

“I--” Oliver started.

“But what if you win?” you ask suddenly as the realization dawns on you. You were not about to add onto your humiliation of losing three consecutive Quidditch matches by becoming Oliver’s personal servant as well.

“Glad you asked, dearest [Y/N],” Fred smirked as if this is exactly what he was waiting for.

“If we win, you and Wood go on a date,” George said with a big smile, “that’s it.”

“A pretty great deal if you ask me,” Fred added in quickly.

Oliver’s expression contorted into absolute shock as his cheeks started to redden the faintest shade of pink. He opened his mouth to yell at the twins but was unable to. Something compelled him to shut up and turn to you, desperate to see what you thought of this. A small part of him hoped that you would agree.

This clever plea presented by the twins had taken you back by surprise, to say the least. On a date? With Oliver? Didn’t he hate you, and you him? You almost wanted to laugh at what a ridiculous idea this was, and you almost did, before you saw that Oliver was watching you with his eyebrows furrowed. Did he want this? Did he not? It seemed pretty harmless, right? Plus, if you declined, wouldn’t that show that you were nervous and unsure about the match?

“Fine. You have a deal.” you said assertively and reached out your hand to shake Oliver’s.

Now, Oliver wasn’t a bright student, but he wasn’t dull either. But at this moment, his brain had completely stopped working as he stared at you, taking in your eyes that twinkled and your perfect lips that looked so soft---

His thoughts were rudely interrupted by Fred’s aggressive approach to bringing his attention back to this conversation; he shoved Oliver, almost causing him to fall over.

“Wha--? Oh, yes. Yes. Date,” he stammered, trying to find the right words, “I mean--, no, not a date. Dea--Deal. Yes.”

He extended out his incredibly sweaty hand to take your noticeably smaller hand in his and gave a firm shake. He smiled at you and you returned it hesitantly before you turned back around to walk away.

What a weird night this has been.

______________________

The match had started nearly ten minutes ago and Oliver had not taken his eyes off you once. It did work in his favour a bit, as you were a chaser, so it didn’t look out of the ordinary at all. But Fred and George caught on quickly and exchanged knowing looks, smirking slightly.

The match, dare you say it, was going extremely well. The other chasers had already scored multiple goals and this offensive-style play was proving to be very effective.

But your head was not in the game. Not at all.

The way that Oliver was flying on his broom, strategically blocking goals and giving a victorious smile each time to the crowd was proving to be particularly distracting. And it may just be your brain playing tricks, but you could’ve sworn you saw him watching you a few times, too.

It was somewhat of a revelation last night. This morning, you saw Oliver in a completely different light. Your mind even tried to convince you that maybe it wouldn’t be that bad if your team lost again. You quickly mentally slapped yourself to get rid of this thought. You had to win.

______________

The match went on for a while after, and it came incredibly close to being a victory for Gryffindor.

But it wasn’t.

Many people blamed it on Oliver’s lazy and distracted gameplay, and many on your brilliant one.

You exclaimed loudly and smiled broadly as Malfoy caught the snitch, and the stands erupted into applause and cheer.

You hopped off your broom and went to congratulate Malfoy and your other teammates, all the while the stands clapped and screamed. It sounded like music to your ears. You were so incredibly happy that your hard work had paid off and you had broken the losing streak.

Your smile faltered, however, as you saw how defeated Oliver looked. This was a major bruise to his ego. He was not used to losing. But you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he looked that disappointed because he would be unable to go on that date. If you were being honest, part of you was also disappointed for the same reason.

_________________

You were sat in the library, trying to focus on your Charms homework but that was proving to be quite… impossible.

Oliver was sat two tables ahead of you, and while his back was turned, you still felt yourself feeling a little flustered.

You had been gazing shyly at the back of Oliver’s head when a sudden tap to your shoulder scared you half to death.

“Hellooo [Y/L/N],” said the slightly taller twin, which you now were able to tell was Fred.

“For Merlin’s sake,” you exclaimed with hand to your chest, “you can’t scare me like that, Fred!” You whirled around to see Fred standing behind you with his infectious smile on his face and George, standing beside him in an identical manner.

“Sorry.”

“What do you want?” You questioned dryly, picking your quill back up again, pretending to get invested in work.

“Congratulations on your win, [Y/L/N],” George said pleasantly as he patted your shoulder, “you played well. It's a shame though, isn’t it, Freddie?”

“Yes, it really is, Georgie.” Fred said, crossing his arms, faking sadness.

You turned around to face them, your eyebrows furrowed, “What? What is?”

“Oh, just Oliver,” George sighed.

“What about him?”

“You know, after the match…” Fred added.

“What?” you said again, curiously. You desperately wanted to know. What were they talking about? Was Oliver alright? Was he mad at you?

“Oh, you know…” George sighed, again, faking disappointment.

“Fred, George, will you please just get on with it?”

“Well, y’know,” Fred said but stopped again.

“Merlin’s beard, you two are infuriating!” you whisper-shouted, “what is it?!”

“Hmm, you seem to care about Oli boy a lot,” George said thoughtfully, with a hand to his chin, “I wonder why that is, eh?”

“Please just get to the point,” you huffed, annoyed at yourself for feeling butterflies at the mention of this ridiculous idea. You were glad your hair was covering your cheeks or else they would surely be able to see you blushing.

“He’s quite disappointed he wasn’t able to go on that date with you,” Fred said smugly, “He was crying about it.”

“Oh, shut up,” you said, turning back to your work. They were only pulling your leg, you could tell.

“Ok, ok, maybe he wasn’t crying,” Fred rushed to tell you, “but he might as well have been.”

“Yeah, right,” you rolled your eyes.

“We aren’t lying, you know,” George rushed to Fred’s aid, “why would we ever do that?”

You snorted quietly under your breath.

“Alright, alright, all jokes aside, we saw you staring at him,” Fred told you, as he sat down beside you, “it’s obvious you like him.”

“And, it must be your lucky day, because he likes you too,” George added, taking a seat on your other side.

“So just ask him out.”

“It’s as simple as that.”

“We’re bloody geniuses, Georgie.”

“We bloody are, aren’t we?”

You were watching this scene unfold in absolute horror. Your cheeks were as red as a tomato and your stomach had dropped. People knew? They knew you liked him? Did you even like him? Did he even like you?

“I don’t know what you two are talking about,” you started, trying to compose the storm raging within you, “I don’t like him, you two are mad.”

“You have a favour, lying around in case you forgot,” George said, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “use it.”

The truth was, you had forgotten. You did have a favour overdue. The excitement of the win had made you forget that you could make Oliver do whatever you wanted.

“I will not do that! Are you two insane?” you exclaimed again. This idea was mad.

“Come on,” Fred whined, “it’s not like he can reject you. Which, if you ask me, he wouldn’t do anyway because he’s so bloody in love with you.”

“No! Absolutely not. There is a reason I’m not a Gryffindor, you know.” you protested.

“Hey! Oliver! Wood!” George shouted, much to Madame Pince’s dismay. She gave him a mean look and carried on reading. You looked at him in shock and harshly whacked him in the shoulder, to which he responded by snickering. What was he doing?

Oliver turned around and looked at you three before furrowing his eyebrows again. He got up from his spot and walked over to your table, while you gave George a murderous look.

“Hi.” he said, quietly, looking only at you.

“Hi,” you muttered back, a little breathless. Merlin, why were you behaving like this? You hated it.

“[Y/N] here, has something to say,” Fred said suggestively, as he stood up from his seat.

“Have fun, you two,” George said as he, too, stood up and walked away with Fred, leaving you and Oliver feeling incredibly awkward.

“So…” he tried to say casually but he was much too nervous to be in your presence.

“Uhh, I--, I wanted to call in that favour you owe me,” you said, thinking quickly before this becomes even more weird.

“Right,” he said gloomily, once again reminded of his loss.

“I…” unable to think of anything, you uttered the first things that came into your head as you glanced down at your incomplete homework, “I need you to tutor me.”

“Tutor you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“At the Three Broomsticks.” you added, not really sure why.

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” he nodded, looking a little surprised at your odd request.

Before you knew it, you were uttering the three words of confirmation that made both of your hearts leap simultaneously, “It’s a date.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows, unsure of what to say. A date? You cringed at yourself for even thinking of saying that.

“A date?” he asked, still surprised, but his tone suggested it was pleasant surprise more than anything.

“Uh, yes.”

“Alright.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll pick you up at 11? Next Saturday?” his heart was beating a hundred times per second but it was evident that the Gryffindor courage had kicked in.

“Yes. I’d like that,” you managed to get out.

“Alright, it’s a date.”

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ilguna · 4 years

Text

☼ keeper (Fred & George Weasley) ☼

summary; fred and george are indirectly the reason why you get hurt during the next quidditch game. they can’t help but to feel guilty anyway.

warnings; swearing, a little bit of angst.

wc; 1.6k

Notes; READER IS GRYFFINDOR

–

“I think it’s going to be an easy game today!” Oliver says, he’s standing in front of the doorway, broom in hand as he looks over the team.

With two hands, you tighten the buckle that’s on your right boot, barely glancing at Oliver. He gives encouragement like this before each game as a way to get your spirits up. However, with him saying something like that--it’s so vague that you can’t tell if he means it’ll be easy for you, or for the other team.

“I think so too.” Fred says, he’s fixing the gloves on his hands, seated on the bench.

George on the other hand, is stretching, cracking his knuckles and turning his head both ways. After you’re sure your shoes are secure--because the one time they weren’t has haunted you all this time--you go ahead and stretch too. Being a keeper means you have to be flexible.

“What’d you two do?” you ask, looking between the boys.

“I didn’t even say anything.” George says, trying to defend his honor. But there’s a sneaky smile on his face, and he shares a look with Fred, confirming what you thought.

“You don’t have to say anything. You two always look guilty of something.”

Freds’ smile is widening into a grin, “Let’s just say that the slytherin’s should be more tired than usual.”

And that sentence alone isn’t giving you much comfort. You definitely shouldn’t have pried, you would have much rather preferred to figure it out later down the line. If what you’re thinking is right, then it wouldn’t have taken long to realize, anyway.

You don’t say anything else after that. Once you’re all stretched out and your muscles aren’t stiff, you’re all walking out and onto the field. You fix your gripping onto the broom, your eyes scanning the stands.

Hermione is definitely out there with Ron. Even if Hermione would prefer to be inside the library or the gryffindor common room studying, she’ll come out to keep Ron company. Plus, you know she doesn’t mind watching you, the twins and Harry play all together.

“Gotta be quick today.�� Fred says, you look at him, and then the slytherin team.

“They don’t look happy.” George sounds delighted.

“Damn you two.” you hiss.

Whatever they did, it’s got slytherin riled up. They’re standing taller than usual, shoulders squared with meaner-than-usual faces. They’re glaring at you all accusingly, which means they definitely know that it was one of you guys that had done it. If they’re not morons, then their eyes will be on the twins.

But instead, they’re looking over the lot of you, as if you all banded together to make a plan to sabotage their… sleep? They’ve got lines beneath their eyes. Today must have been a rough day with classes and all. It doesn’t really matter anymore, all you know is that they’ll be taking it out on all of you, and not just the twins.

Madam Hooch stands next to the box full of the dangerous--and sometimes murderous--balls that will be hurled at you the entire game. On the other side of her, is of course the slytherins. You’re sure that if she weren’t in the middle, acting as an accidental buffer, there would have already been a fight on the field.

“Rough night?” Oliver asks, the question is innocent in his mind, but for them it’s provocative.

“You could say that.” Marcus says, he’s gritting his crooked teeth.

“If we get obliterated this game, I’m telling the entire team it’s your fault.” you tell the twins.

“As if the entire team doesn’t know already.” Fred says.

“Mount your brooms.” Madam Hooch commands.

You fix yourself onto the broom, trying to find a comfortable position. You’d rather be comfy at the start just so you don’t have to be worried about adjusting while you’re in the air. That’s one way to be distracted the entire game.

Hooch releases the balls. You lean over to Fred, and then George to give them a high-five to start the game off. Right after, Madam Hooch is blowing her loud, silver whistle, and you’re off towards the hoops.

There, you keep an eye on the air. Fred and George are spectacular at making sure the bludgers don’t come anywhere near you, so you never have to worry about that. Even if it slips past them, they’ll yell a warning to you if you need to get out of the way.

As you reach down to tuck your pants back into your boot, your eyes catch the chasers coming your way. You jerk back up, watching the way they move, anticipating the direction they’re heading. With every foot gained, they only go faster.

Bloody hell.

You wait until the last second to head to the hoop on the far left. It’s too late for Warrington to head in the other direction, and you think he’s realizing that now. Nevertheless, he brings his arm as far back as he can stretch and launches it your way.

There’s definitely momentum on that ball.

You swing your foot at an angle so you don’t accidentally end up breaking toes. The ball collides with your boot, and you kick it so it gets sent straight to your team's chasers. They get the ball easily, and with one final glare from Warrington and Montague--they’re both gone.

You rub the spot where the quaffle had hit. Normally, you can’t feel anything. But then again, the balls are never coming that fast. The only times the other teams play aggressively is when you’re all so frustrated. Which means people get desperate and sooner or later, something bad is going to happen, and then it’s just a domino effect from there.

The quaffle goes right through the right hoop on slytherin’s side. It gets thrown back into play, and not even a couple seconds later, your teams’ chasers are scoring again. You watch as slytherin slowly gets more aggressive.

After one more score, a happy look on Oliver and two mischievous grins from the twins, the chasers are finally coming back your way. Warrington is leading the front, eyes switching from one hoop to another. Left, right, then middle. It’s almost like he can’t decide. Or he’s purposely waiting last second to throw so you don’t have time to go over.

You lean forward, prepared to throw yourself in the direction. His arm will twitch to the right, and you’re already tilting that way.

He genuinely looks like he’s throwing right, and since he’s out of time, it has to be his only choice. Only, the second you get over there, he’s throwing left and your name is being called.

“Bludger!” someone yells, you can’t tell who.

And right when your eyes have found it, it’s too late, clipping the top of your head.

“Madam Pomfrey said she should be awake by now.”

“She took a bludger to the head, she should be dead.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then a yelp.

“She’ll wake up.”

“Or she already is. Look.”

You involuntarily push your eyebrows together, expecting nothing. Instead, you get the worst pain you’ve ever experienced in your life.

You have to relax your face immediately, opening your eyes as you reach up to touch the throbbing spot. It’s another bad idea, and Hermione catches your hand before you get the chance.

“Welcome back.” she says.

You look over who all is here; Ron and Harry are standing at the end of the bed. But the twins are sitting on stools off to the left, smiles on their faces.

“Did we lose?” you ask.

Hermione lets out a laugh, as do the others. She rolls her eyes, and lets go of your wrist, going back to sitting on her own chair, arms crossed over her chest.

“We won.” Fred says, his smile turning to a grin.

“Harry was quick to get the snitch after you got hit.” George explains, and you look over to Harry to see he’s got a sweet smile.

You snort, your head hurts but you pretend like it doesn’t, “So let me get this straight--if I get hurt every game, you’ll catch the snitch faster?”

“We were only worried because it was your head. Any other body part and we probably wouldn’t have cared.” Fred says.

You go to sit up in the bed, popping your knuckles. Fred laughs, thinking you won’t be able to do anything. However, George slaps the back of his twin’s head without a second thought. It’s a good betrayal, makes you trust George more.

“When do I get to leave? I wanna rub our win in Marcus’ face.”

“I’ll get Madam Pomfrey.” Hermione says, Harry and Ron trail her, allowing you a moment with the twins.

When you look over, expecting some witty remarks from either of them, you’re met with frowns, and Fred’s head is turned away. This can’t be good.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” you ask, sitting up further.

“‘M sorry.” Fred says, looking down to his hands, and then to you.

“About the joke?” you ask, “‘Cause you’ll have to do a lot more than that to hurt my feelings.”

“No, the bludger and the… prank.” George is pulling on his fingers, “I didn’t know that it would lead to that.”

“It’s not your fault.” you tell them, “I mean, if anything, it’s Warrington’s fault, and I fully plan on kicking his ass as soon as I’m out of this bed. You two saw him, right? That bludger was totally planned, it can’t be a coincidence.”

This has got Fred straightening up and George leaning forward, “That’s what we tried to tell Hooch, but the entire slytherin team denied it.”

“As if! They called a time out, and right when we got back to playing, they were so mechanical--”

#ilguna #george weasley #fred weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfic #geroge weasley oneshot #george weasley x reader #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfic #hp #not requested

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hxneymalfxy · 4 years

Text

a first for everything. [two]

summary: when you get accepted into hogwarts for a transfer year, you are beyond ecstatic. however, you soon find out a change in enviornment won’t be your only problem. draco malfoy, the most dramatic boy in your year, has been chosen to keep an eye on you throughout your entire year. what on earth could go wrong?

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 3k

pairing: prefect!draco malfoy x ilvermorny!reader

part/s: intro // one // two // to be continued

tag-list: @drawlfoy (comment below if you’d like to be added!)

»»————-　➴　————-««

You sat in solitude, all alone in the Gryffindor common room. It was barely sunrise before you had unwillingly gotten up out of your bed. Breakfast wasn’t served until seven-thirty, so you had about two more hours before anyone else decided to get up. Even after a month, the time difference still hadn’t set in. So here you were, wide awake with your headphones wrapped around your neck as they hummed the familiar sound of Hanson.

You sipped at the warm canister of coffee, enjoying the taste of the brewed beverage. Yes, coffee. Tea just never seemed to satisfy you enough. Pulling the wool blanket further up, you shift yourself to a more comfortable spot on the worn down couch.

Since there was no hope for you trying to fall back asleep, the only other option for you to do was your schoolwork. Which in itself was already very limited since you and Hermione had worked together last night in the library.

Grabbing your book bag, you shuffle through all of your books and decided on Potions. This was one of your only subjects that Malfoy couldn’t top you at. You recalled the first Potions class you and him attended. Surprisingly enough, you already knew most of the basics since Ilvermorny had taught them the year before.

This, for some reason, enraged the tall boy. It was as if he always wanted to be above you- everyone- for that matter. So it was quite a confidence boost when Professor Snape had given you a perfect mark on your first potion, while Draco was left standing next to you mumbling and muttering how pathetic the class was.

You had now completely abandoned the thought of reading the book in your hand, as you were so entranced by the memories of the past month. Then realization kicked in. You’d been in Hogwarts for an entire month now! All alone in a new school, and you had managed to survive without much help.

Except for the fact that Dumbledore still wasn’t giving up on the idea of Malfoy being your ‘guide’. He was quite the opposite actually. There was never a day where Malfoy hadn’t taken the time to comment about your abilities. Merlin’s Beard, there was even a day where he had made fun of the way you held your quill.

With that being said, you tried nearly every week to get Dumbledore to change his mind. Hell, you even brought him chocolates once! But it- sadly- always ended with him declining your offer. He didn’t give you a reason, just always calmly said “You’ll find out on your own why I’ve chosen the Malfoy boy as your guide.”

You certainly hoped that it would be soon, because it wasn’t just Malfoy messing with you. In fact his entire friend group had made it their top priority to constantly tease you. It was honestly tiring, always feeling like you were dealing with a bunch of petty middle schoolers.

But despite everything, you and Malfoy still kept the promise you made to each other at the start of the year. He’d ‘help’ you get your way around the corridors and classes, and you wouldn’t tell anyone about his association with you. Looking back at it, you should’ve at least added something a bit more beneficial to your side. But it was too late now, seeing as Draco quite enjoyed his end of the bargain.

You still couldn’t believe the fact that he was a Prefect. Sometimes you wanted to snatch the shiny green badge that he wore so proudly and throw it out into the vastness of the forbidden forest. That would definitely show him.

You scoffed, realizing a few moments later that the idea was irrational. Sighing, you focus your attention back to the Potions book you had dropped to the floor, deciding that it would be better reading it rather than litter your memory with thoughts of revenge against Draco Malfoy.

You were a good six pages in when you suddenly heard the entrance of the tower opening. Your head snapped to the direction of the painting creaking open, waiting for whatever it was to come into the common room. The Potions book was yet again disregarded as you now stood behind the couch, your wand held tightly in your hand.

The sound footsteps got closer, and your wand stayed raised in the air. When the figure finally revealed itself- or themselves rather- you let out a sigh of relief. The Weasley twins stood in front of you, boxes of what you assumed was jokes piled in their hands.

“And what are you doing up this early?” George whispered, as he quietly stepped around you to set the boxes down on the floor. Fred followed behind him, doing the same.

“I should be asking you that, Weasley.” You smiled. Fred and George exchanged looks and let out a quiet laugh, trying not to wake anyone up.

“Nothing important. Just.... business.” Fred said in a quite voice as his eye lit up with mischief and excitement. You rolled your eyes and stifled a small giggle, leaving them to tend to whatever jokes were inside their boxes. You sat back down on the couch, adjusting yourself to the same spot you were in moments ago.

You took another sip from your canister, and continued on where you left off. Potions had always seemed to intrigue you, even at Ilvermorny. You got almost perfect scores everytime you completed a potion, even the complicated ones. However, as you skimmed through the rest of the pages, you noticed one that you weren’t quite familiar with.

The bold letters on the page spelled out it’s name; Felix Felicis. Not only did it take 6 months to make, but it was way more complicated and harder to brew than any other potion you’ve tried to do. You’ve never even heard of some of the ingredients required to make it! You quickly grabbed a highlighter from your bag and highlighted the page title, wanting to remember it. It was nothing special really, you did this with all the potions you believed you could brew.

After a reading through more of the books pages, the sun had started to shine through the glass stained window that overlooked the entire common room. It wasn’t a very bright light, since the rather gloomy season had already started to take place. Taking this as a sign to get ready, you grabbed your belongings and headed back up to the dormitories.

It was the start of your second month, and you said a silent prayer to whoever was up there, hoping and praying they’d make it a smooth one.

»»————-　➴　————-««

The Gryffindor table was loud as always, students chatting and eating away their sleepiness. You sat at your usual spot, surronded by the trio and your other friends. In front of you was an array of food; ranging from cereals to whole breakfast platters.

You noticed that the scenery had changed as well, with the ceilings being covered in an assortment of orange and red leaves and the windows being tinted to give off a homey feel. Hogwarts never ceases to amaze you.

You slurped at your bowl of cereal, enjoying the cocoa flavor. Ron sat infront of you as always, Harry by his side and Hermione on yours. He chomped away at the breakfast sausage, too preoccupied reading whatever he was holding to notice his loud chewing.

It didn’t bother you that much, seeing as everyone was doing the same thing. It did however annoy Hermione, since she had started reading another one of the books from the library. It surprised you that so much knowledge could fit into that brain of hers. She was something else.

“Hermione why don’t you eat something first? You’ve always got your head stuck in a book, I’m scared you’ll forget to even breathe at times.” You told the very determined girl next to you.

You could hear Ron let out a laugh, and you yourself couldn’t stop a smile from forming on your lips. Hermione finally looked up at you, eyes clearly tired from working so much.

“But there’s a quiz in DADA later today, and I most definitely do not want to fa-“

“Uh-uh, no. You won’t be able to focus if you don’t eat the most important meal of the day.” You said, sliding the book away from her reach.

She pouted, upset that you took her valued book away. You gave her another look, and she sighed finally giving in, piling a good amount of food on her plate.

“Wow, so you’ll listen to [Y/N]’s advice but not mine? I’m hurt.” Ron said playfully, grabbing his heart as if to mimic the pain of betrayal.

You laughed at this, enjoying the small bicker between him and Hermione. It wasn’t hard to see the signs of a faint attraction between them, even if they themselves couldn’t see it.

“It’s a shame you’re not in many of our classes [Y/N].” Ron said. “You should see Hermione fuss about every little thing-“

Ron never got to finish his sentence though, before Hermione had whacked him on the head with a parchment roll. At this you laughed harder than before, enjoying the face of regret Ron had on now.

“It is a shame isn’t it? [Y/N] won’t be able to see how much of a complete nonce you are.” Hermione remarked, crossing her arms. Despite her annoyed tone, her lips had still managed to form into a slight smile.

Ron scoffed and rolled his eyes, averting his attention back to the food in front of him. The four of you continued to converse, Harry complaining about the next Quidditch game, Hermione worrying about school, and Ron just living in the moment.

You smiled to yourself. You were definitely going to miss them once you left for good.

»»————-　➴　————-««

Once breakfast had ended, you and trio had disbanded in the corridor. You were all alone now, walking by yourself among the sea of students surrounding you. You were more than familiar with the halls and corridors- courtesy of Malfoy, sadly- so it wasn’t that difficult heading to classes anymore.

You silently made your way to the Dungeons, your headphones on your head blasting all of your favorite tracks. Potions was- thankfully- your first class of the day. The other classes weren’t necessarily that bad, it was just Draco that ruined them.

Shaking your head, you cleared your thoughts of the rude boy. You were going to be stuck with him for the rest of the day, the least you could do was get some alone time before then.

When you finally made it to the Potions classroom you made your way to your usual spot. He hadn’t arrived yet, and you let out a sigh of relief. You hid your Walkman back in your bag, getting the necessary things needed for Snape’s class.

Professor Snape was scary, but so were others. In fact, your teacher at Ilvermorny could’ve easily scared Snape away with just a glance. You were honestly still shocked that other students in your year were still terrified of him, seeing as you were almost two years away from graduating.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw that Malfoy had arrived, throwing his bag onto the table. He didn’t acknowledge you, and you didn’t acknowledge him. He left his post, making his way back to his goons.

So there you were, all alone once again. You sat on the tall stool, arms supporting you on the table as you read through more of the different potions. You remembered the one you highlited earlier that day; Felix Felicis- also known as Liquid Luck.

You didn’t know why it fascinated you so much. Perhaps it was the effects of the Potion that made you even more determined to brew it one day. Draco quickly made his way back, indicating that Professor Snape had arrived.

You took another step to your left, not wanting to invade his personal space. Contrary to popular belief, Malfoy wasn’t exactly the bravest person everybody put him to be. The only reason why you noticed this in the first place is because he was clearly intimidated by Snape himself. It was quite funny actually, a teenage boy feeling the need to be superior to a Professor.

“Turn to page 297.” Snape announced in his usual voice, his eyes scanning the room for any misbehaving students. “Can anyone... tell me what the use and effects of an Amortentia potion are?”

You knew this one. Even had some personal experience with it. They were nasty Love Potions, used to make other people feel a great attraction towards you. Your bestfriend had tried to use it on one of the Lacrosse players at Ilvermorny- and it was safe to say that it had definitely backfired.

You raised your hand to answer, but you were beat by none other than your seatmate. Snape had moved aside from his place and revealed the small black couldron- presumably holding Amortentia. Draco had gladly gotten up out of his seat, not forgetting to throw a nasty glance at you before he did.

He stood behind the pot and began to explain. “Amortentia- or Love Potions- are used to create an illusion of being in ‘love’. Once used, the person affected by this potion is blinded by obsession and infatuation.”

“And the effects?” Snape snapped coldly, clearly annoyed at how Draco was turning this into something he could show off. You stifled a laugh when Draco’s smirk faltered, clearly not having been able to impress Snape.

“It’s aroma is different to each person who consumes it.” Draco paused, pulling another one of his show-off acts. He smirked and walked next to the couldron.

“For example, I smell” He took a small whif, inhaling the sweet smell of the Potion. “new linen, chocolate and-“ He paused once more, his smirk ultimately leaving his lips. “freshly brewed coffee.” His last words would’ve been impossible for you to hear if you weren’t seated so close to the front.

“10 points to Slytherin.” Snape announced, and motioned sharply for the blonde boy to go back to his place. A confused look still plastered Draco’s face, as if he had found out something he didn’t want to.

You ignored it, and paid attention to whatever experiment you had to conjure up today. It was another one of the simple potions, nothing too hard. Snape gave the entire class 40 minutes to brew it to perfection.

You flipped to the assigned page and started immediately. Draco hadn’t moved an inch, still lost in his thoughts. You snapped your fingers to get his attention.

“Are you just gonna sit there?” His eyes met yours, and he quickly shook out of his shocked demeanor. You eyed him weirdly, since he had started acting differently. There was no sudden comeback, no outburst.

You shrugged and let out a deep sigh, eyes averting back to the potion at hand. Jars of ingredients floated off of the shelf and onto your table, opening themselves. Draco was unusually quiet, just sitting there and following whatever the book told him to.

When it eventually came to adding both of your mixtures together, Draco had completely disregarded whatever came next. You almost let it slip until you realized that the potion would completely backfire if Draco didn’t follow the step before your current one.

“Draco are you even paying attention?” You asked impatiently, watching him as he just hummed and kept mixing his pot.

Taking matters into your own hands you add whatever else needed to be added, and end moving a full two steps closer to him. Not thinking anything of it, you grabbed his hand and started stirring with him. His eyes widened quickly and shook himself out of your grasp.

“Don’t touch me.” He said firmly, the familiarity of his rude voice coming back. You rolled your eyes and stepped back to your area.

“Just keep stirring.” You replied blankly. What had gotten into him?

When Snape had come to check on your potion, you and Draco had been given a near perfect-score, leaving you satisfied and less worried. Snape dismissed the class, and you hurriedly made your way out of the room.

You felt someone nudge your shoulder forcefully, and you snapped your head forward only to find out Malfoy had done it. He was back to his usual self, rude and arrogant.

Adjusting your bag, you made your way to your next class, following the crowd of students to the stairs.

»»————-　➴　————-««

“Another cup? Are you sure you’ll even be able to sleep tonight [Y/N]?” Hermione asked worriedly, seeing as you’ve previously consumed about two other cups of your caffeinated beverage.

Classes had ended, and you were once again sat in the Gryffindor common room. It wasn’t empty this time, most of your housemates just lounging around and waiting until it was curfew.

“I’ll be fine Granger. I’m just maxed out for today, that’s all.” It was the truth, though. You were very tired, these classes getting the best of you at times. Add the pile of homework you’d have to do and you were completely wasted.

It had become a routine for you and Hermione to work together every night, so she was nice enough to help you with most of your work. Thank Merlin.

As for everything going smoothly? Total bull. You had really hoped your second month would go a lot easier, but you were of course wrong about that. Did you regret accepting the letter of exchange? Absolutely not.

It was just that damned boy keeping you from living up your best time here at Hogwarts. Besides that, you genuinely appreciated all of the new friendships you were able to form in the past month.

About thirty minutes before curfew, you informed Hermione that you were gonna head up to the dormitories and get ready to pass out, even if your had about 300mg of caffeine pulsing through your veins.

The softness of your bed engulfed you immediately, giving you the comfort you craved so dearly. The room was dim, some girls already sound asleep. Your uniform reeked of various Niffler foods, but you couldn’t care less.

You recalled your day, trying to remember if you had anymore things you needed to catch up on. Your schoolwork had all been turned in, and your homework was done and stacked neatly on your dresser.

Your moment of comfort was ruined when memories of your morning classes emerged. The whole Amortentia situation replayed over and over in your head, remembering the stuck up explanation of Draco. His answers- for some odd reason- lingered in your mind.

Trying to recall what in the hell kept making you think of him, and you suddenly remembered his answers after smelling the potion itself. New linen, chocolate and-

Your eyes shot open, completely washing away any sign of your sleepiness.

Freshly brewed coffee.

»»————-　➴　————-««

author’s note: hi loves! hehe i hope you enjoyed this chapter, because i really enjoyed re-writing it. i did more research into the wizarding world in North America, and they mostly focused on potions and windless magic. so if you were wondering why [Y/N] is so into potions, that is exactly why! i don’t really have a posting schedule, but i try to be consistent with uploads. but anyways, thank you for supporting! i didn’t proof-read, so if there are any typos/mistakes- i apologize!

p.s. yes, i make my own gifs :))

#draco malfoy #harry potter #hermione granger #angst #ron weasley #draco malfoy fanfic #enemies to lovers #fanfiction #fluff #fred weasley #geroge weasley #snape #fanfictions #draco x reader #affe #comment if you’d like to be tagged!

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the-hyperfixationstation · 4 years

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Night Owls

Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry finds himself on a 7:00 am- 11:00 am sleep schedule.

TW: mentions of grief, and non-graphic references to self harm.

Harry really struggled with sleeping after the battle of Hogwarts, but especially sleeping at night. While staying at the Burrow that summer he just can’t get used to the idea of everyone sleeping at the same time???? And no one watching the house??? So it’s not unusual to find him up roaming the Burrow or the grounds in the middle of the night. (And it’s not totally for those reasons and not at all because of the nightmares. It’s just a safety thing and not because when he wakes up from a nightmare he feels like his lungs are full of blood and he’s drowning and screaming at the same time)

Mostly he’d just sit in the living room and read or take short walks around the property, wand clutched in his fist (the countryside was peaceful at night but he wasn’t interested in taking any chances). On really bad nights he’d make his way into an old shed and come back out in a little more pain, but with his head feeling much clearer.

On sometimes he’d run into one of the house’s other occupants.

When Ginny couldn’t sleep she’d come down to the kitchen and fix herself a cup of tea. She didn’t always want to talk, and neither did Harry, so mostly they’d just sit together. Sometimes they’d talk about mutual friends, but it left them both feeling very aware of what they’d lost and what they missed. Eventually she’d head back upstairs, but based on the constant creaking of the floorboards coming from her room, Harry’s wasn’t sure she was going back to sleep.

According to the daytime version of events, George hadn’t left his room in weeks, but Harry saw him sneaking in and out most nights. He didn’t know where he was going, and they’d never talked about it, but when they did cross paths George looked about as awful as Harry felt. But he’d still musters a small smirk for Harry before he popped outta sight. (Once Harry’d helped Lee Jordan maneuver a very drunk George back to bed at about 4:30 am. He tried not to think about the heartbreaking alcohol-fueled ramblings, and he’s grateful that he doesn’t think George will remember any of it).

Occasionally Ron would come down with him, and Harry learned to recognize the different kinds of night they’d have. If Ron was coming downstairs because he didn’t want Harry to be alone, they’d play a few rounds of chess to kill the time before Ron’s eyes started to droop and Harry assured him that he will be fine if Ron goes to bed, before saying a sleepy goodnight. If Ron was coming down because he too was struggling with nightmares or insomnia, they’d find themselves outside on brooms. They’d fly a bit too fast and take turns a bit too sharp and Ron would let the adrenaline from the a hard night bleed out of him into the sky.

On these nights Ron tried to convince Harry to come back upstairs with him and get some sleep. The first few times Harry had fought Ron on this, insisting that he was fine, just not tired, and that he’d see Ron in the morning. Ron, obviously, saw right through this. It always led to a whispered argument. So instead Harry agreed to go back to bed, but told Ron he needed to wash up first. Ron was usually asleep by the time Harry was done in the bathroom and Harry slid back downstairs to continue his silent watch over the house.

One constant about his new routine is Mrs. Weasley, who came downstairs to start her day at 6:05 each morning. The first few times she saw Harry awake she went into full mothering mode and tried to send him back to bed, but these days she’s used to it. They’d sit together for a while Molly has her breakfast and Harry had a cup of tea. Harry never talked much, but Mrs. Weasley would chat about ordinary things, like what tasks around the house needed done and neighborhood gossip. After a while Harry would find himself growing tired and the tension in his back and shoulders would start to leave. At this point Molly would shoo Harry out of the kitchen to start breakfast for the others.

Harry would drift over to the sitting room and settle himself into the big chair by the window. He’d tell himself he was just going to rest of a moment, but there, in the morning sun, he’d listen to the sounds of the house waking up, and finally feel able to drift off to sleeping knowing that his perfectly capable family were ready to take watch.

#Harry Potter #HP Fanfic #harry potter headcanon #weasley family #Ron Weasley #ginny weasley #molly weasley #arthur weasley #geroge weasley #Harry can't sleep #I did not proofread this

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patsdrabbles · 5 years

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Hug Attack

Fandom: The Traveling Wilburys Pairing: none; just platonic friendship fluff ^^ Rating: Gen Word Count: 1233 Summary: The Traveling Wilburys are getting ready to leave on tour and you have a hard time saying goodbye to two of your dearest friends. A/N: @savoy-brown-shoe and I talked about Wilbury hugs the other day and I ended up writing my first reader fic ♥ Feedback is, as always, super appreciated and bound to make my entire week! Enjoy <3 (And Happy Birthday, Jeff! <333 ^-^) (AO3)

“Noo-hooo!”

You were aware that your squealing sounded like that of a young girl, but you couldn’t help it. You were running out of breath but not keen on giving up this game to the boys just yet. You finally reached the staircase and began making your way upstairs- as fast as your feet would carry you, but still mindful not to slip on the stairs.

“We’ll get you, Y/N, don’t-“ George took a heavy breath as he continued chasing after you. “Don’t think you can outrun us forever.” You laughed loudly. Somewhere downstairs, laughter also came from one of the rooms- Tom and the others who weren’t intend on catching you were clearly having the time of their day, watching their bandmates struggle to catch up with you.

You kept running and suddenly realized that you could only hear George’s footsteps somewhere behind you and his silent huffs of breath, but not Jeff’s anymore. Odd. You reached the end of the staircase and took a harsh turn to the right, holding onto the railing as you kept speeding toward the end of the hallway, planning to take the stairs into one of both directions upon getting there.

Just that Jeff had apparently arrived there before you. He must have taken the other staircase up here, the one you had considered running down again. He stood there now, his arms crossed and a little smirk on his lips. You threw up your hands in mock-complaint and shouted toward him: “That’s cheating!”

“It isn’t and you know it!” Came George’s voice closer to your ear that you had anticipated it. So little, actually, that you stumbled to a halt, a few steps in front of Jeff. George had finally caught up with you, sneaking his arms around your waist so you couldn’t run away again. He leaned forward to lightly rest his head on your shoulder and chuckled. “Don’t think we’d just leave like that, without a proper goodbye hug.”

Jeff nodded, uncrossing his arms in front of him, and stepped closer. “Can’t just go on tour without saying goodbye to ya first.” He spread out his arms, raising an eyebrow at you. He was smiling now and you rolled your eyes affectionately. “And here I thought I could avoid this- hassle.” You let it come across as the joke it was meant to be- the whole chase just a way to keep the guys with you longer and the traditional goodbye hug too dear to you to skip it.

“C’m’ere.” Jeff warmly asked and you took a step forward to close the distance between the two of you, George keeping his arms wrapped around you and walking with you in sync. You let your head lean against Jeff’s shoulder, wrapping your arms around his middle and feeling him close his own around you and George. The hug was warm and comforting and you let your eyes fall shut as your breathing finally slowed down again.

George and Jeff had a thing with giving the best hugs. Long, warm hugs that managed to calm anyone, no matter the situation. Currently, the hug was their promise to you that they would be alright and back sooner than you’d notice, not leaving you behind for good. Still, the Wilburys were going on a two-month tour across the west coast of the United States this time and you’d miss them, you already knew and had told them so.

So you let yourself bask in their gentle hold some longer. George nuzzled his head a bit closer to yours, squeezing your waist lightly for a moment, as if to tell you that he was here right now and would be back. “We’ll miss you.” Jeff took one hand from George’s back and rested it on your cheek before running it through your hair for a silent minute, the only sound uttered a quiet “Hm-mm” of George’s in agreement to Jeff that you felt where his head rested against your throat.

After a while, you told them a quiet “Careful” and shifted in the embrace until you had both arms wrapped around them, one around each of them respectively. Jeff and George had their arms wrapped around each other, too, and you closed your eyes once more, enjoying the perfect cuddle pile the three of you could become. You could tell that the goodbye hug was nearing its end, so, after leaning forward into their hug once more and resting your head against the two of them, you pulled back and looked them into the eyes more intensely.

You looked at George’s warm brown eyes and for a moment, it was as though George was silently telling you once again that they would be back again very soon- then he nodded and you nodded back, looking one more moment at his smile and twinkling eyes. “Promise,” he said, and you wondered once again if he could really read people’s minds. He seemed to read yours easily enough. You took one of his hands in yours and squeezed it tightly, and he pulled you in another long hug, both of you mumbling your goodbyes.

When you finally managed to let go – which was hard, given that George’s hugs were so good everybody found it difficult to let go (should George actually be first to let go, which hadn’t happened yet to your knowledge) – you turned toward Jeff and raised your eyebrows. He didn’t seem to understand so you just said “Sunglasses” and reached up to carefully take them off. You put it in his chest pocket and met his eyes again. Jeff shook his head in amusement. “Y/N, you’re the strangest bird I’ve ever met- I mean that in the best way.”

You snorted. “I just like seeing your beautiful eyes for once, Jeffrey.” He blushed and protested against your absolutely valid assessment of his gorgeous, blue eyes. “She’s right, though, Jeff,” George agreed from next to him and you gave him a thankful glance and a nod. “Thank you! See, Jeff? George thinks they’re beautiful, too!” You smiled at him, hands on your waist, not taking a no as an answer. Jeff chuckled, a bit embarrassed at so much open appreciation all of a sudden.

“Alright.” He opened his arms again and you let him pull you in for the final goodbye hug. You’d already said goodbye to Tom, Bob and Roy earlier, knowing that George and Jeff would take the longest to say goodbye to. You rested your head against Jeff’s chest and he pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head before you both pulled away. “Take care of yourself, Y/N.” It was quiet and he consciously or unconsciously mimicked you and George, taking your hand in his and squeezing it. You smiled. “You, too, Jeff.”

You gave them both a peck on the cheek and then decided to do what you felt like in that moment, which was taking both of them by the hand to walk down the hall to the other staircase with them, prolonging their departure just another minute more. You looked at Jeff and then at George, both of them smiling as the three of you walked down the hallway in a lazy pace. You couldn’t help but smile in return, happy in the middle of two of your favourite people.

“So- what town’s gonna meet the Traveling Wilburys first?”

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iamburdened · 3 years

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Reader’s Masterlist #5

Not my stories. Just my favorites from other writers. All credits and support to the original artists.

IMPORTANT: like and REBLOG all the fanfics you read to support the writers, please.

If you liked the fanfic, tell the writer. They will be in cloud nine with your compliment! Show support!

* = NSFW

Link to all my masterlist (+ Draco Malfoy, Loki, Shawn Mendes, Tom Holland, Peter Parker, Angus McGyver, Newt Scamander)

GEORGE WEASLEY X READER

Love At first Sight @wondernimbus

Summary: Cheesy love at first sight we all need from time to time.

Be Happy Again @selfwriting-sugarquills

Summary: This is like a teaser for a series. Sadly it is Fred is dead canon, BUT this part has such a rhythm it's so good to read. I caught myself reading it out loud just to enjoy it fully.

Materlist @writesowhatnext

Summary: I recommend everything here. Period.

Fred Knows @acciotwinz

Summary: Fred and Angelina’s wedding is around the corner and Geroge still doesn’t have a date and that doesn’t sit well with the happy couple.

Masterlist @plant-flwrs

Summary: I recommend everything here.

Mischief @plant-flwrs

Summary: George falls for the mischievous pureblood Slytherin who couldn’t care less about blood status.

Wonderful Thing @pastanest

Summary: the amount of fluff in this will kill you. George and reader have an absurdly close friendship and of course they gotta a crush. Just read it.

Good girl * @lumosandnoxwriting

Summary: George has been the reader’s enemy since their first year at Hogwarts together and now, in their final year the universe keeps throwing them together in ways that make the reader question why she ever hated George in the first place. This is smut, babies, enjoy and be warned.

Under The Stars @feetoffthetable

Summary: best Yulle Ball I've read, cheesiest George EVER.

I solemnly swear i am up to no good @shysneeze

Summary: what if one night the golden trio is look at the marauders map that the twins gave Harry and they see the reader and George sneaking around hogwarts and they ask George about it the next day?

Finally home * @malfycs

Summary: george has always tried to prove to you that he wants what’s best for you. will he ever succeed in winning your heart, or will you break his instead? A.K.A long ass fic that ends in smut. Amazing. Read!

In Safe Hands * @theweasleysredhair

Summary: this is hand porn basically. And you want to read it, just go.

Dating Someone Shorter @writingwizardwheezes

Summary: for the shortie club

Here's To Luck @holyhead-hufflepuff

Summary: smooth George, reader and George's dynamic is amazing.

The Only Exception @chudleycanons

Summary: (Y/n) swears that she will never fall in love. George is determined to change that

Little Less To Love @durmstrange

Summary: I know the title seems angst as fuck but it's about George losing his ear, funnier than the 'I am holey' bulshit lol

Chocolate Milk @durmstranged

Summary: George finding out he is gonna be a daddy in the best way.

NSFW Alphabet * @gredandforge01

Summary: we are lacking some NSFW stuff so here is the good and old nsfw alphabet.

Sweet Like Honey @gcdric

Summary: It’s finally the day of the Yule Ball and you and George are both nervous as can be. Will he find the nerve to make a move or will you have to take drastic measures?

Masterlist @weasleydream

Summary: if you look in this master post, the less we have is angst because it's not my cup of tea, but this writer have some very good angst and I read it all without meaning to because it's just so good. Dive in and cry, you are going to suffer, but you will be grateful for it.

First Christmas @loony-loopy-lupinn

Summary: shortie one with baby Weasley first Christmas and cute daddy George.

Sweaters @fandoms-archive-blog

Summary: Molly having enough of you two pinning for years and giving a little help.

Kinktober Masterlist * @wand3ringr0s3

Summary: shameless smut in every piece. There are Fred fanfics here too.

Cherry, Lemon, Peach @harrysweasleys

Summary: george is obsessed with your chapstick and tries to guess what flavour you’re wearing.

DRACO MALFOY X READER

Veritaserum @wondernimbus

Summary: Draco is pranked into drinking veritaserum and for one day he speaks his mind freely. He loose some friends, get on bad terms with the teachers but worst of all: he can't shut the fuck up about how beautiful you are. This fanfic is perfect, seriously, the parallel between him being rude to you but not stopping telling you how he loves your eyes. It's * chef kiss*.

Two Sworn Enemies @wondernimbus

Summary: This is part 2 but still, Draco and reader hated each other since year 1, suddenly, the little shit starts to throw cheesy pick up lines at you every opportunity he gets. At first you hated it, but maybe, just maybe, there is more to it than you are willing to figure out. (ps: the way the writer builds the golden trio + reader friendship is AMAZING, also the twins are there so) (pps: go to her master list!)

Masterlist @adorerdraco

Summary I recommend everything here.

Masterlist @wondernimbus

Summary: there is Fred, George, Harry and a bunch of other characters here. Go all or it!

#readers masterlist #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley smut #george weasley x slytherin!reader #x you #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #Draco Malfoy x #fanfic #hp fanfic #george wealsey imagine #fic rec #recommendation

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