Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.
Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Marriage of Convenience. Forced proximity, domestic moments, unrequited love. Friends to lovers. Grief and mentions of death (Fred). Reader had a situationship with Fred. Drinking, swearing. SMUT. Oral (both), PinV sex. Angst. Mentions of cheating and infidelity.
Warning: Sexual Content, please dni if you’re a minor ⚠️ SMUT, f and m oral recieving mention. p in v mentions. slight bdsm (???) mentions. Dom!george sub!reader.
Authors Note: George is so fine 🥲
Hair. Pulling.
Whether it’s you pulling his, him pulling yours, he loves it.
Public sex is George’s favorite.
You’ll be both in the common room, cock warming him, with a blanket covering both of you.
“Be patient, darling. And I’ll destroy you; you have my word.” George praises you.
He will sneak you into the burrow during breaks from Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley of course knows you’re there, but is under the impression you’re sleeping with Ginny in her room.
He will tease the fuck outta you and then make fun of you for the mess HE has made.
“You’re a mess, so wet. Thinking about me? These panties are filthy. I guess we will have to take them off.” He says as he takes off your panties and stuffs them in his pocket.
But in reality, George casted a muffliato spell on his room, pounding you into his mattress.
As he’s literally pounding you; he will tell you;
“Fuck baby girl. You’re so tight.”
“You’re so good for me, your moans are so pretty.”
Hickeys??? His fucking favorite. He doesn’t give a fuck if somebody sees them, he will put them wherever he pleases.
Loves hearing you moan. Pleasuring you just by eating you out and hearing you moan will get him off.
“Please let me cum,” You’d beg. “You’d have to say my name for me to grant your wishes, darling,” He’d respond. You’ll moan his name. A sick smirk will appear on his freckled face, as he says “Good girl.”
He loves looking at you with his cock filling your throat. Fucking into your face. Uh, hello? Hair pulling.
“Fuck baby, your mouth was made for me. Fuck. I’m going to cum down your pretty throat.” George groans, pulling your hair into an even tighter ponytail. So much so your scalp feels numb. Tears form in your eyes from the pain that feels so so good.
He of course; rewards you afterwards. “You did so good baby, thank you.” He will coo to you, as he runs his fingers through your hair while you’re still in your knees in front of him.
He enjoys tying you up, blindfolding you, unaware of your surroundings or where he is. Never knowing when he’ll strike.
Loves and i mean LOVES your ass. Looks at it 24/7. Slaps it during sex, obliviously. especially while you guys are making out, and during sex.
Loves pounding you so deep, your legs over his shoulders, his eyes on yours the entire time. Tears forming in your eyes. Screaming his name.
“You’re so ducking tight y/n. You’re falling apart on my cock. All for me?”
His hands. HIS HANDS??? Are HUGE. perfect for wrapping one around your throat.
As much as he likes it rough; he knows when soft sex is needed.
He will take it slow, plant longing kisses on your neck, trailing up your ear whispering sweet words.
“You’re so beautiful. Never think differently.”
“You’re my one and only. I love you so much, Angel.”
He provides THE BEST aftercare; no arguments.
Runs you a bath. (Before making sure you pee afterwards because YOU ALL SHOULD PEE AFTER SEX)
Will apply lotion on you; (everywhere) after the bath.
Brushes your hair, puts it in a braid, etc. Literally *puts you back together* after he’s *destroyed you*
George will only do this in front of you because he doesn’t think he’s as talented enough to do this anywhere else around anyone else, but he will sing to you, as you both cuddle in bed with you on top of him.
“You know baby, I really love you,” he will murmur. “I love you too, George.”
This takes place on the Battle of the Seven Potters. Mundungus Fletcher doesn’t exist here!
Warning: angst, fluff, I think maybe one or two curse words?
1.1k words
You were getting ready to transform yourself into Harry Potter, trying to get the boy to safety with the Order of the Phoenix, your boyfriend stood by you “You don’t have to go, y/n” he said cupping your face in his hands “You either” you said placing your hands on his waist giving him a small smile “What if something happens you?” “I’ll be with Moody, don’t worry nothing will happen” you reassured him hugging him “For those of you who haven’t taken Polyjuice before, fair warning it tastes like goblin piss” you giggled holding Georges hand “Have lots of experience with that, Mad eye?” he said looking at Moody “George” you hit his arm lightly “Just trying to defuse the tension” he said as he took a sip, passing it onto you and you passing it onto Fred “It tastes horrid” you said gagging then suddenly becoming a bit taller looking over at George who was now the same height as you “Now look who’s a shorty” you said giggling “We’re identical” he and Fred said looking at each other “Not Yet” Moody said placing a pile of clothes on the floor, after changing Moody started to discuss the plan “Alright then, we’re pairing off, each Potter will have a protector, Y/N you’re with me, Harry you’re with Hagrid” he continued discussing the plan and George squeezed you hand tightly “I’ll be fine, Georgie” you said “I’d Kiss you but I feel like I would be cheating on you with harry so I’ll kiss you when I get back, Okay?” “Okay, I Love you” “I love you too, George” you said hugging him and heading out with Moody. You headed out with moody, Fleur and Bill close by “Stay safe!” you screamed at them as you saw death eaters getting closer. Suddenly you were ambushed by death eaters and Voldemort “Moody” you said holding tight to the broom as he shifted trying to avoid being attacked “Avada Kedavra” suddenly you heard someone scream, Moody turning around and getting the blow you screamed as you saw Moody falling off the broom causing it to go downward you screamed holding tight trying to get it to go up again as death eaters still attacked you, you heard Bill and Fleur scream your name as you fell, “Crucio” you screamed against one of the Death eaters close to you “Expelliarmus” you screamed again tears streamed down your face as you still tried to get away from them “I’m sorry, Georgie” you said while you tried to defend yourself, you couldn’t see the others, you were already low, then you felt something hit your arm you screamed in pain as you looked at it, blood spilling out of the cuts “A little more” you said as you saw that you were getting closer to the destination, getting attacked again causing you to fall to the ground. Back at the Burrow almost everyone had arrived, George arrived with Remus, blood covering half of his face “I’m okay” he said as they laid him down on the couch “Where’s y/n, is she here yet” “Not yet, Hun” Molly said running her fingers through his hair, suddenly Hermione and Kingsley arrived followed by Arthur and Fred “How you feeling Georgie” he said “Saint like” “Come again” “Saint like, I’m holy, I’m holey, Fred, you get it?” George said pointing at his ear “The whole wide world ear related humor, and you go for I’m Holy, that’s pathetic” Fred said chuckling “Reckon I’m still better looking than you” then Ron and Tonks, and then Fleur and Bill “Where’s Moody and Y/n” George said looking around “George” Bill interrupted kneeling Infront of him “We saw them go down” “What, no” he said sitting up looking at his brother “We saw Moody get killed, and Y/n went down, we don’t know if she survived, Death eaters followed her down” everyone in the room gasped, Ginny hugging Harry and Hermione hugging Ron, George stood up “I’m going to look for her” “You can’t, its chaos out there” said Tonks trying to stop him “I don’t bloody care, the love of my life might still be alive and need help” he said pushing through “She might be dead, George, you’re going to get yourself killed too” Arthur said trying to hold him back “She can’t be dead” he said as a lump formed on his throat “She promised she would get back safe” he said going outside Fred standing beside him “George-” his words were interrupted as a sudden flash appeared and you falling out a couple of feet from them “Y/n!” George screamed running towards you alerting everyone, he picked you up, you were crying in pain and bloody “Bloody hell” you heard Fred scream as George passed by him, bringing you inside laying you on the couch “Let me help her” you heard Molly say as she got closer to you, she casted a spell helping you ease the pain, your breath becoming steadier and the wounds on your arms closing, you opened your eyes looking around “George, your ear” you said softly “Forget about my bloody ear, y/n, I told you not to go, look what happened” he said kneeling Infront of you crying, you place a hand on his cheek “I love you”, he took your hand kissing it “I love you too” “I’m okay, Georgie” “You need to rest dear” you heard Molly say as she signalized Ron and Fred to take you upstairs “I can take her myself” George said standing up taking you in his arms bridal style walking up the stairs to his room, laying you on his bed “George, stay” you said as was about to leave, he turned back and gave you a small smile, lying beside you looking at you, “I was so scared, y/n” “Me too” you said looking at him, tears forming as you remembered what happened, “I was flying the broom George, I gained control but they attacked me again” you said choking “shh it’s okay” “All I could think about was you, George” “I didn’t want you to risk your life, y/n” “I know but I just thought that if something happened to you I could help you” “But nothing happened, you almost died because you wanted to protect me!” he said a little louder, you knew he was getting mad “George, you can say what you want, you see, I would’ve died for you to survive” you said tears streaming down your face “I managed to get to the safe house, George, I’m okay now, I’m with you” you said wiping a tear off his face as you leaned in to kiss him softly “I thought you died” “I’m not ready to die, Georgie, not yet”.
George Weasley
I’ve seen the way you look at me; Jealous that I’ve lost my mind.
Remus Lupin
Chocolate Books
Sirius Black
You fainted… Straight into my arms.
Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?
Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.
You heard me; I wish I could hate you so make me take if off.
“I thought I loved you but I’m going to kill you.”
Old Friends and New Friends
Ends lead to beginnings
Come over here and make me.
Ginny Weasley
“This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”
ok ok hear me OUT! imagine george secretly dating a slytherin reader and in his dorm she asks him for his “G” sweater (you know the ones they get for Christmas) and he’s like yea ok, he literally doesn’t think about it at all, like he’s thinking she wants to wear it to bed in her dorm BUT THEN the next morning when she comes down to the great hall for breakfast SHE’S WEARING THE SWEATER AND HIS LITTLE HEART GETS SO EXCITED!!! 🥺🥺🥺
ps i love you and your writing so much ❤️
Hi love!! Thank you for your lovely words, I’m so sorry this has taken so long! I hope you enjoy! 🖤
Warnings: none really? Mainly pure fluff. One minor sexual innuendo. Slytherin!Reader. Fred being surprisingly sweet. Background Fred x Angelina implied.
Word count: 1.1k
A Ruby amongst Emeralds.
It's freezing in the dorms this time of year, the warmth radiating from the fireplace never quite heating up the large rooms in the ancient building. It's January, Mid-winter and undoubtedly below freezing, the cold air nipping at every inch of exposed skin even inside the castle.
You'd caught a chill on the way up to the Gryffindor common room, nevermore thankful to be away from the draughty Slytherin dorms, notorious for their cold and frosty atmosphere- and that was just the people.
You'd slipped past the portrait of the fat lady, blending in with a group of Gryffindors with perfect precision, as practiced many times before, slipped along the corridor and into the end dorm where your boyfriend waited for you. It wasn't easy to keep a relationship hidden at Hogwarts, especially when it was two people of opposing houses. But you'd managed it for over a year without a single suspicion from anyone, excluding Fred of course who apparently didn't count.
"Georgie, can I borrow this? I'm freezing," you ask with chattering teeth, reaching for the discarded jumper on his dresser. Handmade and looking somewhat new, you realised it was the jumper that he'd gotten for Christmas two weeks ago from his parents.
"Of course," he says gently, without ever really looking up. You supposed it was a natural consequence of growing up with so many siblings, or more specifically growing up with a twin that shared everything but George was always extremely generous with his things. He'd give you anything you needed without question, knowing that you'd take care of whatever it was.
You double checked that it was definitely George's jumper, confirming there was a large 'G' on the front and not an 'F', Godric forbid.
You smiled as you pulled the jumper into your arms, bringing it up to your nose to give it a good smell. It smelled of him and his home, a scent that radiated warmth and safety. It was almost addictive.
When you were leaving his dorms, the curfew just minutes away, you hesitated taking the jumper off. You were finally warm and so cozy that the very thought of taking off the jumper made you want to cry.
"Keep it," George says, pulling you in for a kiss by the hips, his large hands covering your sides.
"Really?" You ask hopefully. He nods and kisses you again, his nose bumping clumsily into your cheek, your warm hands clinging to him in anyway you can.
"Imagine it's me in bed with you tonight," he says with a smirk, knowing that you wouldn't part with the jumper anytime soon.
"I always do," you reply in a sultry fashion, mentally planning your new route back to the dungeons, knowing full well that you'll have to sneak back after curfew.
"Alright break it up lovebirds, ahh my eyes, my eyes!" Fred bursts into the room in the most dramatic way possible, falling to his knees and rolling onto the floor.
"Idiot."
"Git," George mumbles under his breath at the same time whilst he pulls away from you, his hands leaving your body and landing at his sides.
"See you at breakfast."
You kiss George one last time as you leave still bundled up in your new favourite item of clothing. You give Fred a playful shove on the way out as he puckers up for a kiss too and laugh whilst closing the door, no longer dreading the walk back to the Slytherin common room.
"I just think it would be easier now," George whispers to Fred over breakfast as he scoffs down his fifth slice of toast. "Don't get me wrong I know why we had to keep it quiet but I just wish we could be open about it."
"I know mate," Fred says in an uncharacteristically empathetic tone, knowing how much the topic bothered George, even if he was secretly fed up of having the same conversation again.
Truthfully, George really had been fine with keeping their relationship secret for the first half of the year but as their relationship grew and got stronger, he no longer knew why they were bothering. He loved her, she loved him, and what did it matter what anyone else thought? Perhaps now it had been over a year together he could broach the subject with her again, see if she'd be open to it.
"Doesn't hurt to ask," Fred suggests, catching a single glance of his twin and knowing exactly where his mind was at. George sits and ponders on the thought for a moment whilst Fred looks around the room, no doubt looking for Angelina.
"Do you think she would, be open to telling everyone I mean?" George asks, reaching for another slice of toast but suddenly thinking better of it. He senses Fred is distracted, inevitably trying to get Angelina's attention but George still waits for Fred's reply, even if it does take a few seconds.
He hears Fred snort and feels a sinking feeling in his gut, knowing that it was probably a stupid idea all along, his gaze never leaving his crumb covered plate.
"Never mind," George mumbles, reaching for the toast once again with a sigh.
"Look up you idiot."'
George lifts his head up without question and looks towards his brother, following fred's line of vision to see what he was missing.
When his eyes land on what Fred is looking at he freezes, brain temporarily short circuiting. He blinks twice to make sure he wasn't seeing things, his heart seeming to flutter at the sight before him.
It's his girl. She looks beautiful, just as she always does but this morning she’s glowing. He watches as she takes a seat at the Slytherin table across the room, smiling widely at her friends as she climbs onto the bench, proudly wearing his jumper.
It’s burgundy with a giant ‘G’ stitched in gold thread, the biggest contrast there could be amongst the other Slytherins, a ruby in the middle of emeralds.
They make eye contact across the Great Hall and it’s electric, each of them feeling the sparks and butterflies anew. He’s never been more certain than in that exact moment that he loves her, that he would spend the rest of his life chasing the high he felt right now. He’d remember the way his little Slytherin proudly wore his jumper in front of the whole school, the way she would cheer the loudest at Quidditch games whilst wearing the same jumper, and the way that he would never get the chance to wear it even once in his life because it officially belonged to his girl.
Summary: The battle of the seven Potters throws your world into chaos when one of your boyfriends is cursed. As Snape’s ex-potions assistant and previous protégée, you recognise the inflicted curse immediately and demand answers from your mentor.
Word count 71k.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of war and Voldy, descriptions of injury and blood, descriptive smut, p in v sex, shower sex, tension. Outside sex. Semi public sex. None sexual nudity. Crying. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Arguments. Probably some cursing. Mentions of nightmares. Reader is part of the Order of the Phoenix. Mentions of death (Dumbledore, Snape). Mentions of Tonks’ pregnancy. Possession, Horcrux possession, snakes. Fred lives. Canon compliant mostly.
hi!! i came across ur acc bcus im in my hp phase again HAHA & i LOVEEE your fics on the weasley twins!!
i was hoping if i cld req a fic on the scene in the OOTP book where george & harry were beating up draco while fred was held back? i think draco was insulting them & maybe cld include him insulting the reader (maybe hufflepuff, doesnt matter tbh) as well & that gets george to get angry and fight (theyre besties) & in the end they confess 😊 if its okay, no smut please! 🫶🏽 wld love if its all fluff
Hi Anon! This was so fun to write, I’ve always loved this scene and think it’s criminal we never got to see it in the film! 3 people to hold back Fred?! George beating on Malfoy?! A girl can dream… hope you enjoy! 🖤
The Lion, the Badger and the Serpent.
Warnings: blood, violence, fighting. Malfoy being an arse as usual. Mentions of pranks, boils and medical injuries. Derogatory names called. Minor swearing. Kissing.
Word count: 3.5k
November 2nd 1995. The day that everything changed.
Slytherin vs Gryffindor.
You'd hardly seen your best friends this week thanks to Angelina's tyrannical ruling over their time. Between multiple quidditch practices, when Snape hadn't completely booked out the field, homework, their inventions and detentions you'd hardly seen George and Fred at all. The most you could do today was to support them, proudly sat in the stands cheering them on and praying that the rain would hold off long enough until the match was over.
You were sat in the Gryffindor stand today with Hermione and your friends, proudly wearing George's burgundy jumper under your coat, both in support of the Gryffindor beater and to keep out the November chill. Luna was seated behind you wearing her homemade headpiece, a mighty and outrageously bizarre life-like lion's head complete with mane which emitted a deafening roar when prompted, which she had thankfully stopped after multiple requests.
There was something in the air, an uncomfortable feeling that was growing by the minute as the Slytherins poured into their stand in jovial spirits, their faces emitting smug smirks as the inter-house relations seemed tense at best. Perhaps in was Umbridge and all the changes and restrictions that were happening of late or maybe something more so sister was afoot, regardless of what it was you were certain it wouldn't be good.
You'd spotted one of the badges upon leaving the great hall after breakfast on Pansy Parkinson's robes, but thought nothing much of it at the time. Only when you say a collection of them on a group of slytherins walking to the pitch did you try and get a closer look at the crown shaped badges they all seemed to be wearing. Your stomach dropped upon seeing 'Weasley is our king' etched across them, immediately feeling an ominous foreboding at what was to come during the match.
You cheered loudly as the Gryffindor team stepped out behind Angelina, all decked out in their uniforms with their brooms in hand. George was third in lines with Fred behind him, all decked out in their gear with their goggles around their necks. The roar of the crowd was deafening though there was something not quite right in the cheers, a second sound much different to regular cheering appearing at the same time, though it seemed to fade once the Slytherin team came out. You noticed that even the Quidditch team were wearing the badges and once again your stomach sank with unease.
George looked around once they were mounted on their brooms, the captains forced by Madame Hooch to shake hands. Your eyes met his as he searched the stand and you beamed down at him, your eyes gleaming as you waved, preparing yourself to be the loudest in the crowd. You saw his face soften into a wide smile as he looked at you, placing his goggles over his eyes as the match was about to begin.
Madame Hooch blew the whistle and you watched as George immediately zoomed off, each member of the team immediately dispersing to their places, with Ron making a beeline for the goal hoops as Fred lingered towards the left.
"And it's Johnson- Johnson with the quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me," Lee comments from the box, his entire speech heard throughout the pitch. You laugh at his words and even more so when he's immediately yelled at by Professor McGonagall before he continues commentating.
You cheer loudly, standing from your seat as George hits a bludger with perfect precision, sending it spinning as fast as a whizzbang right into Montague's head and consequently making him drop the Quaffle. It's an incredible shot and you can hardly contain yourself at just how amazing his aim was. Your eyes are whipping all around the pitch as you follow the Quaffle, cheering once more when Fred manages to lurch forward and protect Alicia from an incoming bludger that was hurtling towards her from behind.
Your joy is immediately stolen when you hear the Slytherins singing together, their words much louder and clearer now, the sound of their song carrying in the wind.
Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King.
Weasley was born in a bin,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley will make sure we win,
Weasley is our King.
The great swell of their song could be heard all around the stadium and you tried to avoid looking at Ron, knowing it was all directed at him. It was clear to anyone that he was nervous and even more so now, their words cutting him deep in such a humiliating way that you wanted to stand up and protect him in anyway you could but there was nothing you could do, forced to sit their and listen to their disgusting song. It was clearly getting to him as he let in two goals that should have easily been blocked, his mind taking over and clouding his abilities.
Fred hit another bludger in retaliation of Goyle trying to take out Angelina and though you naturally cheered, you felt immediately less inclined to, your joy having been swept away by their awful song.
Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in,
Weasley is our King.
It was forty-ten to Slytherin and you were starting to get nervous, with only one goal from Angelina who had outsmarted Warrington at the last minute whilst he was showing off to the stand of Slytherins. You watched as Harry and Malfoy zipped off in a fierce battle, your eyes squinting to seek out any sign of gold against the clouds which were starting to allow fat raindrops to fall from.
Against the wind and rain, you held your breath as Harry tilted back with his broom, his gloved hand outstretched as he balanced, trying to gain on Malfoy. Loud joyful cheers erupted all around you as Harry grasped the golden snitch, merely a speck of gold to you from the distance and holding it up proudly to signify the end of the game and the triumph of the Gryffindor team. You looked around to find George, beaming with pride as you saw him zipping around with Fred, both of them shaking their arms up in victory at the win.
A collective horrified gasp erupted around you and you looked away from Fred and George in a flash to see Harry on the ground.
"What happened?" You asked Hermione beside you as she covers her mouth with a gloved hand.
"Crabbe knocked a bludger towards Harry just as he caught the snitch! That's against the rules!"
You heard Madame Hooch's shrill whistle and watched as Harry leapt up from the ground with help from Angelina, the entire team joining them on the ground to gather around Harry. Ron however dismounted his broom near the goalposts and began walking back to the changing rooms alone without so much as a glance back at the team. Your eyes instinctively flicked to Hermione beside you, seeing her look a mixture of stricken and furious, her own eyes fixated on Ron's figure as he slipped away.
When Malfoy began strutting up towards the team, specifically Harry, you felt another wave of uneasiness wash over you and with a single look towards Hermione, you both began quickly making your way out of the stands and down towards the side of the pitch, sensing your need to be with your best friends.
When you reached the side of the pitch, you could see Malfoy was now flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, with the Gryffindor team infront of them, Draco's mouth still inevitably reeling off a long whine. You moved closer with Hermione, your feet carrying you forward and as you neared them, you finally heard Malfoy's disgusting words clearly.
"We wanted to write another couple of verses, but we could t find rhymes for fat and ugly, we wanted to sing about his mother see."
Your eyes instinctively shot to Fred and George who were moving closer to Harry through the group to shake his hand, knowing they were already on thin ice with Umbridge. They didn't seem to hear Malfoy in the same way that you could, covering the filth with their own words to Harry, who desperately seemed to be ignoring Malfoy's devious attempts to get a rise out of him.
"We couldn't fit in useless loser either, for his father."
You were so close to them now and silently prayed that they hadn't heard Malfoy's latest snipe but you looked on as they froze mid handshake and immediately knew that they had heard him loud and clear. Angelina attempted to block them, trying to force them not to act, knowing that the Gryffindor team had only just been aloud to return to games and that it could all be ruined by one single misdemeanour. George shot Malfoy the darkest look he could, one that you had never seen him give before, it was pure rage and hatred. Fred moved forward quickly and Angelina jumped to grab him by the arm, pleading with him not to do anything. Of course Malfoy saw this and continued spitting venom with a look of pure delight that he'd managed to get a rise out of so many of them.
"But you like the Weasleys don't you Potter?" He smirks, "spend holidays there and everything don't you? Can't see how you can stand the stink but I suppose when you've been dragged up by muggles, even the Weasley's hovel smells ok."
He watched with sadistic delight as Alicia, Angelina and Katie fight to hold back Fred whilst Harry keeps a firm grip on George to stop him, though he's struggling against George's surprising strength. He looks around for Madame Hooch desperately seeking her out as he knows he can't hold George back much longer, his strength much outweighing Harry's.
"Know who else likes Weasleys? Y/n. Which one of you is she shagging again? Or is it all of you? The Weasley whore, but then again you share dirty hand me down jumpers, why would a pathetic slut be any different?"
It happens so quickly that you can't even comprehend Malfoy's vicious words as they turn on you, knowing that it would set off at least three or four of the team instantly, your best friends. Within seconds, George is jolting forward and pinning Malfoy to the ground, his gloved fists pummelling into Malfoy's face. You're frozen in shock at seeing George so completely out of it, usually being the restrained one of the pair. Malfoy is whimpering beneath him, trying to roll away from George's precise swings but it's impossible with George's knees pressed on his chest as he pins him into the perfectly manicured ground. His lip is bleeding from where Malfoy managed to land a singular defensive punch and you see the crimson droplets falling down his face onto Malfoy's collar below as George pulls back once again for another punch. Harry is mingled in with George but you can't tell if he's aiding him or trying to pull him off from this angle, though knowing Harry it's certainly the former.
"George!" You suddenly cry out, leaping forward to try and stop the attack, hoping your voice will make him pause. It's chaos around you with people yelling and screaming, whistles blowing and Slytherins still singing.
"George stop! You'll kill him!"
"Good!" He says viciously, getting one last hit in before he's flung back by Madame Hooch, her 'impedimenta' jinx being heard all around just as loud as he whistle.
"What do you think you're doing?" Madame Hooch screams as she approaches the scene, cutting through the crowd of gathered people around you, her figure walking straight over to where George lays on his back and Draco is lay curled up in himself.
"I've never seen behaviour like it! Back to the castle and straight to your head of house's office! Go! Now!"
George doesn't even look at you as he marches up to the castle with Harry in tow, leaving Fred disgruntled and furious, the three team members still holding him back even with Madame Hooch there. She helps Malfoy to his feet and you send him a thunderous gaze for his words, already planning the ways in which you can get him back for what he'd done, thinking of the nastiest inventions Fred and George had come up with. Give him a handful of 'sweets' but only provide the orange half of the puking pastilles? Nosebleed nougat seemed too light for him, perhaps something else from the skiving snack boxes? Whatever the method, you had sworn to get your own back.
You'd been pacing in the common room for what seemed like hours, annoying both yourself and your friends as you waited for George and Harry's return. You prayed that their punishment wouldn't be too harsh but Umbridge in the school you never could tell.
The portrait door opened and your eyes shot to a furious looking George who didn't even pause upon returning to the common room and instead thundered up the stairs still adorned with all his quidditch gear. You and Fred shot each other a look that voiced your concern and within moments you were both on your feet and climbing the stairs to their dorm, concerned about what had happened.
"A lifetime ban, can you believe it!" George says with an uncharacteristically aggressive tone, kicking his trunk beneath the bed. He had reason to of course but it still made you jump from the sudden impact. Fred had marched off with an ugly grimace as George shared the news that he too had been banned along with George and Harry, though he'd not even touched Malfoy, much to his displeasure.
"He gets to carry on after everything he did to Ron! Smug little shit I should have punched the cocky grin right off of his face."
"You did," you say quietly, internally cringing at the blood and the injury to Draco's face, not that you felt an ounce of sympathy. George ignores your words and continues pulling off his quidditch gear in frustration, his usually delicate and precise fingers too overwhelmed with range that he can practically rips away the arm protectors.
"Thinking he can say that about you, about mum and dad. He wants to look at his own bloody family! A lifetime ban from quidditch! For what? Fighting back, finally giving that slimy git what he deserves?" He sighs at the end of his long rant and for the first time you see the sheer anguish in his face and not just rage.
"What he said about you," he begins, throwing his weight into the edge of his bed, opposite where you had sat on Fred's.
"He just said it to wind you up George, no one actually believes it," you say gently, trying to reassure him.
"But it's not right," he says with a shake of his head.
"Let's just forget it, we can get him back another day."
"No! You don't understand," he says with irritation clear in his voice, rendering you silent almost instantly.
"The very last thing I want is for anyone in this school to think that you're with anyone in my family, not Fred not Bill not anyone! You're mine, it should be me!"
You freeze. George freezes. Silence falls between you both as you simply look at each other with matching wide eyes, shocked by the words that had fallen from his mouth.
"I," George tries to say but nothing comes out, his mouth closing seconds later.
"You, you, me?" You ask, flabbergasted.
He takes a deep breath and nods, his eyes averting from yours after a few intense moments.
"I can't stand the thought of a single person thinking that you're anyone but mine."
"But," you try to say, realising that there's no question beyond your initial word, the words just not sinking in.
"You never told me," you finally say, though it sounds quiet and unsure even to your own ears. You watch his eyes close, pausing for a moment as his lashes kiss his cheeks, before he opens up his eyes once more and looks into your own.
"In all fairness, I didn't mean to tell you this time either."
You huff a breath of laughter at the absurdity, your mind fighting to spit something, anything out in reply, other than the very obvious sentence that was threatening you from inside your head.
"I'm glad you did."
"What?" He says, eyes squinting briefly, his hands in his lap wringing from the tension.
"I'm glad you told me," you reiterate gently, "I'm, I understand how you feel. I'd hate to think that people don't already see that I'm yours, and have been for a very long time."
There's a beat of tense silence, both souls and secrets bared before each other.
"You're just saying that," he says in disbelief, shaking his head ever so slightly.
"George Weasley you know me better than anyone on this earth and if you think that I would lie to you even for a second to spare your feelings, then you've severely misjudged me."
Another moment of silence and stillness follows before George practically lunges at you, his body hovering above you as he glanced briefly at your lips in non-verbal questioning. You don't hesitate and reach out for him, pulling him down so that your lips are on his in seconds. Soft and perfect, his lips meeting with yours for the first time, the weight of that securely guarded secret no longer dragging you down. You feel free and completely elated in the moment, revelling in the knowledge that the boy you'd loved for years finally admitted that he also had feelings for you. That didn't happen even in your wildest of dreams and though you wish it was due to much happier circumstances, you can't help but feel completely content.
Malfoy had hardly been seen throughout the next week, though rumours of his injuries had traveled around the school. In common fashion, his wounds had been exaggerated to the point of being outlandish fibs with talk of George tearing off his nose and him now being almost blind in one eye. The rumours had soon fizzled out however when new ones took their place, merely a day after the now infamous quidditch match. It was rumoured that Draco Malfoy had a crush on you, an obsessive infatuation that had caused him to lash out, bitter about you rejecting him. What he didn't know was that you were already seeing George Weasley and he had not taken kindly to Draco hitting on his girl.
The real truth was naturally kept amongst the chosen few who were around to hear his actual words. The rumours were initially fuelled at the start of the week when you and George were spotted canoodling in the corridors, kissing and cuddling for anyone to see, both happier than ever that you could finally show off your relationship and be rid of Malfoy.
Those rumours were certainly replaced when Draco Malfoy returned to classes the following week, still supporting the last lingering effects of two black eyes and a rather extraordinary walk. He winced as he walked, readjusting his trousers every few steps as he glared at the people around him, walking slowly past them with an interesting gait. His friends had tried to keep their distance from his strange behaviour and obvious affliction.
"Still can't get the fever fudge right then Fred?" You asked with a smirk one morning over breakfast, your eyes fixated on Malfoy who was shuffling awkwardly over to the Slytherin table. He smirks back at you whilst George chuckles beside you, his hand gripping yours slightly tighter as he squeezes, his hand hardly parting with yours since you made it official, his lips either for that matter.
"No 'fraid not," fred says with a defeated sigh that was entirely fake. "Strange how they make you erupt in puss-filled boils."
"Even stranger how it's just the arse," George adds.
"Eh, maybe one day we'll get them right. All I know is that judging by that they've not burst yet."
You look up when you hear a pathetic wail coming from across the room. Your eyes eventually find Malfoy on the floor, having misjudged the bench and apparently tumbled onto the floor, his white face looking flushed.
The way that I ran here as soon as I saw that your requests are open...!
Could I ask for a fic of reader and George cuddled up in bed (with reader sitting in between his legs leaning on him - so readers back is against his chest) drinking hot chocolate, watching a movie and enjoying the start of their little Christmas break? And while reader is leaning back on George, readers' soft legs under the blanket distract him from what they're watching 🤭. Gentle kisses on her neck and sweet praises in her ear as he reaches between her legs, just wanting his sweet girl to feel nice and relaxed 😚
Merry (early) Christmas x
Hi lovely Anon! This has been such a pleasure to write, I love cozy George! I hope you enjoy and MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄🖤
Warnings: smut, PinV sex, graphic sex, mirror sex, fingering, George is a bit of a simp, Christmas traditions. Bit of swearing, major fluff. Almost no plot lol. The POV is a little all over the place as I wanted to show both internalised thoughts and the scene.
Word count: 2.8k
George’s Christmas Angel
"Okay we have hot chocolates with those big marshmallows you like, snacks, some homemade cookies I nicked from your mums aaandd Christmas lights!" You say with glee as you step into yours and George's bedroom levitating a tray full of goodies, pausing to turn on the lights to the tree you'd tirelessly toiled over all day to make it look perfect for tonight.
George is already laid on the bed, his plaid pyjamas hung low on his hips and shirtless, fresh from the shower. He grabs the tray as is floats towards him and puts it on his beside table, careful not to spill the drinks before he turns to you again.
"Oh before I forget," you say absently, talking to yourself. You reach up and with one well practiced manoeuvre, you reach into your shirt and unclasp your bra, pulling out from under your top and throwing it into a pile near your chair.
When George notices what you're wearing, he suddenly falls silent, eyes widening at the sight before him. It's not sexy exactly, at least it wouldn't be if it was hung up somewhere, George wouldn't have even noticed it usually; but on your body, the way it clung to your curves, highlighting the places on your body that George loved the most (not that there were any that he didn't). George felt like he was drooling at the sight and had to discreetly wipe his chin to check when you weren't looking, feigning a nose scratch as he watched you bend down slightly to mess with the muggle tv ahead of the movie you were showing him for the first time. He can't look away, transfixed upon the curve of your bum, deliciously round and illuminated by the colourful pattern of your pyjamas, his eyes naturally drawn to the print. He clears his throat, forcing himself to look away, trying to focus on anything else in the room in the hopes it would hold his attention.
"George?
Your voice calls out to him and he turns his head to look back at you, throat forcing down a swallow as he looks upon your body, this time from the front. Your nipples are hard, now more noticeable than ever since the removal of your bra, breasts swishing at you move. George is completely transfixed, hardly able to string two words together in reply to you.
"I said do you need anything before I sit down?"
"No Angel, got everything I need right here," he says with a grin, arms reaching out to you with little grabby hands that insist on you coming to him right away. You laugh and let out a little squeal as he hoists you up onto the bed, positioning you between his thighs and gently urging you back to lay your head in his chest as he pulls the duvet over both of you. His chin tucks neatly on top of your head, always the perfect fit, as his arms snake around your waist so that he's holding you securely. The heat from his body radiates through your back, soothing you and relaxing you all in one. You realise with a great sense of contentment that there's nowhere you'd rather be than right here.
The film begins to play and you can't help but babble excitedly about how this was your favourite muggle Christmas film, the one that officially started your Christmas viewing every year and how you were so excited to show him all of your favourites in the years to come, if you didn't manage to squeeze them all into this particular festive season.
George is half listening, never one to drown out someone speaking so passionately about their interests, especially not his girl, but he's finding himself at increasingly distracted by your body laying between his legs. It's a wonder that you haven't noticed the prominent bulge rubbing against your lower back, especially with the way that it keeps twitching as if trying to seek out more contact, the blood in George's body racing to that one spot so quickly that he's almost dizzy.
Your legs are smooth and soft against his, just as silky as the lingerie you'd worn on your anniversary, the thought of those little panties never far from George's mind. Your chest rises and falls with every steady breath and he's helpless to look away from your breasts having the perfect view from his vantage point above you as he can stare right down into the delicious slope of your cleavage.
It's instinctual, primal almost as his arms unfurl from around you to stroke the smooth skin of your thighs. You shift a little on the spot, eyes still focused upon the television though George sees the way you lean into his touch, silently asking for more. His left hand slips along the exposed skin of your stomach before reaching up to cup your breasts. Your nipples are already pebbled and George's lips upturn into a smirk, his teeth dragging the skin of his bottom lip into his mouth just slightly as he watches the way your breasts fill his palms. His right hand slips towards the edge of your little shorts, toying with the fabric that lays dangerously close to your outer lips of your pussy, his fingers sliding down to your bikini line. Your hips rise slightly, silently beckoning him as your head raises slightly, allowing him unobstructed access to your neck. His lips ghost against the skin of your neck and he smirks incessantly again when he feels you shiver slightly in his hold, goosebumps rising on your skin.
It's more erotic than it's ever felt, the sensuality of his touch so innocently arousing, like the days when you had to be quiet sneaking around in George's bedroom at the Burrow.
"Can I touch this perfect pussy Angel?" George coos into your ear, his fingers slipping just underneath the material of your shorts but still staying respectful as he awaits your answer.
"Please Georgie," you say breathlessly, opening your legs further for him, your arousal undeniable.
Instead of his fingers slipping out and down into the waistband of your shorts as you'd predicted, his fingers slip underneath the sides of your shorts, the thin material barely concealing your pussy.
You gasp as his fingers brush the smooth outer lips of your pussy, his touch featherlight and teasing as he traces the outline of you. Your hips move on their own accord, trying to prompt him to touch you more intimately, to stop teasing. His fingers suddenly pull open your outer lips and slip towards your little hole, long and deft fingers now tracing your inner lips and smearing the juices he finds there. One long digit draws up your wetness, tracing the seam of your cunt until he finds the sensitive nub at the core of your pleasure. Your head falls back onto his shoulder as his left hand squeezes your breast through the thin top in perfect timing with his ministrations, finger circling both your nipple and your clit in sync. He presses long and delicate kisses to your neck as his fingers play with you perfectly like a musician that had perfected their craft. You're writhing in delight, gasping out his name like it's the only thing you can remember.
Your chest heaves against the material confines of your top and he's quick to rectify that, lifting the flimsy material over the curve of your breasts, leaving you exposed to both his eyes and the chill of the room around you.
"You're so beautiful my Angel," he coos in your ear, the very tip of his index finger gently flicking the top of your clit, making you cry out at the sensation. He's soft and gentle but always with the tense of teasing, always wanting to hold back from the most obvious route to extend your pleasure. You can feel his erection pressed into your back, the wordless need conveyed so effortlessly that it makes you run up against it, wanting him to feel even a hint of the pleasure he was giving you.
"This is for you sweetheart, don't think of me right now, just enjoy it."
It's unbelievable that he could even conceive that you could think of anything else other than him in that moment, his fingers working over your most sensitive part so beautifully with the expertise of a man just like him that had been fucking your good for years. He knows exactly where you need him, your favourite spots, the ones that draw those long and bliss filled moans from your lips, the ones that make you cry out his name like a prayer and most notably the ones that catapult you to your edge in mere seconds.
"I love you so much," he whispers, fingers now circling the top of your clit in perfect rhythms, just beneath the hood in a steady rhythm that he knows you enjoy the most. You can't sit still, writhing under his touch, legs opening and closing as if simultaneously denying and accepting the pleasure bestowed upon you. His hands feel like pure magic on your body and you find yourself holding off your orgasm just for the chance of more.
When his fingers pull away from your skin you let out a low whine as you reach out for him in desperation for him to continue. You feel his chuckle, the vibrations passing between your bodies where you rest on him.
"Do you want my cock sweetheart? You've been so good."
"Please Georgie," you say breathlessly, trying to turn your head towards him but failing, the height difference not allowing you to see his face.
"I have an early Christmas present for you Angel. Take off your shorts," he gently commands before adding, "and that little top, I want to see every beautiful inch of your body on me."
You do as he asks in seconds. Even using magic couldn't have made your clothes disappear faster as you eagerly await the gift of George's cock, knowing that it had been the best gift you'd ever received years prior.
"Face away from me, I want you to see something," George instructs, giving you a warm but teasing smirk as he reaches out for you one again. He's completely naked before you, sat in much thrice same position that he was before but now the taught and freckled skin of his body is on display for you. The lines of his wide and strong shoulders, taught stomach and incredibly long legs, as well as the sight of his swollen cock all add to your arousal and you don't wait any longer to join him on the bed. You do as he asks and guide yourself to face away from him, looking down at where your cores rest just above each other, a delicious tease to what comes next.
He reaches down and grabs his swollen length, giving it a single stroke before his left hand rests in your hip to guide you, offering his cock for you to slip down onto.
You almost shudder in complete arousal as his bulbous tip slips between your folds, resting for only seconds at the very core of your pussy as you slowly sink down until he's penetrating you, filling you right to the brim. You're rendered both speechless and breathless by the sheer size of him, still the most glorious surprise even years later.
The groan that falls from his lips makes your walls clench around him, your eyes closing at the feel of your walls twitching and stretching to accommodate him. You delicately sit up, pulling off his hips for a moment as you slowly rise before sinking back down cautiously, testing the waters. You slowly increase the rhythm of your hips and in no time at all, your hips are canting on him faster and faster. You're both equally as loud in your affections, unable to hold back your cries of pleasure at the sensations. It wasn't often that you ever made love like this, at least not in this position, so unhurried.
He suddenly wraps a long arm around your middle and manoeuvres you so that he's now almost sitting, your bum nestled perfectly in his groin as he begins to move his hips quicker and harder against you, his right hand slips across your front and down to your clit, increasing your pleasure exponentially. Even in this position he's an artist with his fingers as he begins that perfect rhythms once again, finding that spot that makes you howl like a banshee, his name falling out of your mouth like a mantra.
"Look up Angel, look straight forward."
You do as he says, opening your eyes and fighting the urge to close them once again when his cock shifts just that little bit deeper from his change of angle, his hips flush to your bum.
You gasp when your eyes focus in front of you, seeing your reflection mirrored back, though you hardly recognise yourself. In this position, you're directly facing the mirror that you'd moved to accommodate the Christmas tree, not having noticed it's rather risqué new home. Your face is relaxed and yet also contorted into sheer ecstasy, eyes half lidded and pouting lips wide open. Your body is on display in the most exposing way, your legs separated by George's long legs, your breast cupped by his large hands and your clit being so meticulously toyed with. You're exposed and vulnerable but looking at you now, you don't see that, nor do you shy away from the view that you'd usually avoid under any circumstances. You look empowered and sexy with the smile of a woman that was satisfied in every sense. George looks incredible over your shoulder, his face scrunched up with the effort of his thrusts and the pleasure it brought as his slightly freckled hands occupy every inch of your body.
"Watch how I'm fucking you, how fucking beautiful you look."
It brings you closer to the edge quicker than you'd care to admit, seeing your reflection bounce on the cock of her boyfriend, your eyes fixed upon your spread open pussy that George was mercilessly teasing with his fingers. Your hips move faster now, almost bouncing on his cock as he groans and growls, his grip tightening on your breast as if to signal his own closeness.
"George, George!" You cry out, reaching your peak in an alarmingly short amount of time as you writhe on him. You want to keep your gaze upon your bodies in the mirror but your eyes close upon their own accord, the pleasure too much that it feels like it's consuming you. In the periphery of your mind, you can hear and feel George climaxing only seconds later but you're too lost in yourself to actively notice, still swimming through the brilliant haze of your orgasm, mind foggy from the sheer force of your climax.
When you come down from the high, you're panting and covered in a thin sheet of sweat, clinging to George as you feel him in much the same predicament below you. You glance back at the mirror, seeing your reflection wearing a contented smile, looking as cock drunk as you felt.
"So beautiful," he muses, your eyes meeting in the mirror whilst his hand slipping up and down your legs soothingly, slowly bringing your body back to normal. He slips out of you slowly, knowing how overstimulated you'd be and collapses back onto the bed. You turn to look at him, breaking your fixation upon the mirror and slide in beside him, his arms opening up for you instinctively as he wraps the duvet around your naked bodies once again. Your eyes divert briefly to the screen seeing that the movie is close to ending and there's a small pang of sadness that you'd missed most of the film, though you were far from sad at the distraction.
With a slight groan, George reaches across to his bedside table, grabbing his wand as it lay there and casts an enchantment upon the hot chocolates that lay long forgotten on the side, magically making them warm again. He hands you your mug as you sit up straighter in bed, pulling the duvet up with you to fight off the chill and graciously accept the warm mug, watching as a few extra marshmallows appear on top. You turn to George in confusion, watching as he winks at you and places down his wand again, sipping the hot chocolate with a moan of pleasure.
“Let’s start the film again baby,” George suggests, his eyes focusing on the television that was currently playing the credits to the film. “Start it from the beginning… we’ll see how like I can make it through before you distract me again.”
