You glanced over to your boyfriend over your shoulder, and stopped cleaning your dishes for a moment. “I’m already dressed, George.” Well– jeans and a shirt, though judging by his suit you suspected that those weren’t nice enough for wherever he was about to take you. You set your dishes back down and dried your hands. “How nice are we talking here?”
“You know that red dress you have?”
“The short one?”
“Yes.”
“The one you only like because it shows off my legs.”
There was a pause, as his face became a bit red, “You look pretty in it.” He rolled his eyes as you laughed, “Anything like that– just something that nice. I know you have a few others.”
As you continued to snicker you walked into your room and got changed. George had commented on that dress before and rather than searching for something else that fit that criteria, you simply slipped the red dress on. It was barely shorter than your fingertips, and surprisingly comfortable.
Soon enough you’d pulled your hair up into a bun that looked just nice enough to fit in with the rest of your clothes and some tan heels. You knew George would wait patiently for you to finish if it took longer, but something told you tonight would be fun and you wanted to get started now.
You strode out of your room and grabbed your purse, slipping your wand inside. “You ready to go, Darling?”
George grinned at you, always so breath takingly gorgeous. He was sure he’d think the same thing the rest of your lives. “Of course, m’ love.”
You grinned as you leant against the fencepost near the burrow, as your boyfriend nudged some pieces of wood from the pile. “This wouldn’t have happened if you and Fred hadn’t set off those dungbombs in Ron’s room.”
There was a weary sigh as George grabbed one of the pieces of firewood and the axe– usually their mother only separated them and gave them actual labor as a punishment when she was very upset. Too bad he couldn’t use his wand for this. “Are you going to help me or are you going to just watch me work?” He rubbed at his jaw– why hadn’t he shaved today?
Oh right. That prank on Ron.
Not worth it, honestly.
“I’m not the one that got your brother’s room to smell like shit.” George gave you something between a smirk and a scowl as he placed the firewood on the very old and weathered log. For a moment you glanced around, taking in your surroundings as everything seemed to become golden as fall descended on England. When you looked back you saw George with the axe raised above his head, and lowering it quickly and decisively.
It was much like when you saw him play quidditch– you got to see him in motion. How the muscles in his arms moved, the way his jaw clenched when he had to concentrate. Unconsciously, you shifted your position.
When you were quiet for a moment too long George glanced at you while he pushed up the cuffs of his plaid shirt– the damn thing was one of Bill’s old ones. Far too ill fitting on him. A bit too tight on the biceps and loose on the forearms. How the fuck did a shirt manage that?
He was about to comment on it when he noticed the look on your face, the red cheeks, the steady way you were forcing yourself to breathe. “Like what you see, my love?”
There was a very strangled noise from you in response, feeling quite embarrassed that he’d seen you out so quickly. “You’re very handsome.” you looked at the smirk on his perfect lips and gave the smallest roll of your eyes, “You know that already though.”
“It helps that you’re always reminding me. ‘ts great for the ego, that is.” George set down the axe and took you in, every inch of you. You looked quite wonderful to him– wrapped up in his sweater with one of his jackets on top. You were his.
It was probably a bit foolish– and he wasn’t one to vocalize or act on that often, but seeing you like that in his clothes always brought that thought to mind.
“I gotta keep chopping wood for Mum. Or else she’ll disown me.”
With a smirk you motioned at the wood before fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket, “Then by all means– keep chopping. I’ll be right here.”
nonnie: Can I request a fic where YN expects George to ask her to the Yule ball? :-)?
word count: 401
warnings: none fam
pairing: george x reader a/n: this was cute! thank you <3
“So Georgie– have you gotten your dress robes yet?”
He shook his head, “No, not yet. Mum’s still scrapping together the money for everything.” or he reckoned that was what was happening– He and Fred required two dress robes, obviously. Which presented a bit of a problem seeing as neither Bill, Charlie or Percy really fit their size anymore.
You rested your chin on your palm and stared at him, “I still have to chose my dress too. Or mum does, at least.”
“Did you tell her what you wanted yet? Ginny had to clip out a few different things from a catalogue to send back to Mum.”
“Not yet– I dunno what color I’d like to go for. ‘ve got half a mind to just tell her to pick itself. She said I ought to match my date.”
“That’s a good idea.”
You nodded, “It is– but I don’t really have a date to match.”
Fred began to pipe up from across the room that the obvious choice was to just come to the Yule ball in nothing but silence himself when he realized exactly what he was about to say and after George’s death glare.
“How do you have a date yet?” His smile was a bit teasing, and you crossed your legs as you drank in the sight of him from across the other side of the sofa.
“This prat of a boy I fancy hasn’t asked me out yet.”
“Really? He must be mad.”
“Completely mad. I’d argue bonkers, actually.”
George wondered if this was going where he thought it was going. “Then why do you like him so much?”
“He’s funny.”
“You cant hang your hat on funny.”
“He’s also rather sweet.” you reached out your hand and traced the skin of his palm. “And I’ve known him for a while.”
“Is he handsome?”
“Oh yes. But he always gets into spats about who’s better looking with his brother, it’s very annoying.”
George’s fingers tangled with yours and he grinned at you. “And he hasn’t asked you out yet?”
“Nope. He’s a prat.”
“Well if you don’t have a date yet, will you go with me? Or will your man be angry?”
You snickered just a bit before squeezing his hand, “He’ll just have to deal with it. Of course I’ll go with you.”
@yourslytherinprincess : “I missed something, didn’t I?” And “you’re lucky you’re cute” with your ever so lovely George if you don’t mind. 😁😁
pairing: george x reader, college!au
genre: fluff
warnings: none
word count: 341
a/n: i love this prompt! i might be writing more college!au things since i love them a lot. sorry this is so short my love.
George was exceptionally scatter brained today.
You watched in amusement as he fluttered all around his apartment, searching for the textbook that he’d borrowed from you, fretting all the while. “George it’s alright. It’ll show up.”
“No– it’s your textbook and you need it for class. I need to find it.” did Fred borrow it? He had the same class too, just a different section. Maybe he ought to text Fred…
This really wasn’t good though– George had quite the large crush on you, and reckoned that losing your textbook, that he didn’t have the money to replace, would probably make you want to not date him.
When you moved to help him search immediately he began to fret about you, and somehow you wound up with a cup of coffee in your hands, on his couch, while he searched his room for the textbook.
Say what you want– George was quite the host.
You reckoned it probably had something to do with his upbringing, based on what they’d said about their family.
As you glanced around, you realized that the textbook was sitting on the coffee table, with the back cover up. You snickered a bit, especially as you could hear George tearing up his room. Setting the coffee down, you walked over and knocked on the door frame before looking at George, who appeared to be looking through his chest of drawers with quite a bit of frustration. “I missed something didn’t I?” he looked at you with a frown– wondering what he could do to fix this.
“You’re lucky you’re cute, you know.” you flashed the textbook at him, “It was on the coffee table.”
He blinked, once, twice and three times as you laughed before grinning just a bit. “You think I’m cute now, huh?”
“Of course I think you’re cute.” you gently put the textbook on his dresser. “I thought that was obvious, what with all the flirting I’ve been doing.”
nonnie:“You can share take my jacket with me, since you’re shivering.” “Why is your hand on my ass?” For George weasley? Love your writing!
pairing: george x reader
word count: 1.7K
warnings: swearing, sexual things. pg 13
genre: romance, tiny bits of angst
description:tired of his friends not dating, fred tells george and y/n that they’d make a horrible couple. to prove him wrong they go about as if they’re dating for a day
a/n: ilu for this one. i love prompts like this where i can be super creative!!! i’ve got a lot of these in my askbox rn and i’m so happy. quotes came from here
Fred hated you two. Well, actually he loved you two. George was his brother and his best friend and you had been so helpful when you’d graduated that you were the reason they’d bought a pull out couch.
So yes. He loved you both. Very much.
But also he hated you. He hated the fact that George got all moony whenever you were going to come over. He hated how you constantly tried to hide the fact that you wanted to shag his brother and marry him. More than anything though– he hated how uncomfortable the sexual tension between you two made him feel.
For once in his life, when he was out with you two, he wanted to listen to a conversation that didn’t seem like it had about thirty hidden layers of meaning.
So Fred had a plan.
“Hey y/n, be careful next time you come ‘round the burrow– Mum’s trying to set up you and Georgie.” Fred shrugged when George shot him a glare and you simply looked amused over your cup of tea, “’m just saying that’s what’s going on. I don’t see it but Mum won’t shut up about it.”
With that statement, both of you looked up, and Fred could see both of you try hard to hide the fact that you were in love with the other whilst also expressing your disdain for the statement he just made.
“I don’t–” you started, wondering how to finish that sentence without letting George know how you felt. “Why do you say that? George and I get on well. It’s not like we’re strangers or awkward or anything like that.”
“You guys just don’t have a spark, y’know?”
The look George was giving him probably meant that Fred was at risk for a good old fashioned muggle beating later, but dammit it’d be worth it.
“I wouldn’t say..” George let out a huff as he set down the paper he’d been reading. How the hell was he supposed to say this? He looked nervously at you, “Like she said, we wouldn’t be awful.”
Fred rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, “Alright– let’s do this then. If you two can make it a day acting like a couple without going at each other’s throats I’ll pay for all our drinks tonight.”
Your eyes immediately darted towards George, wondering what to really say until you both nodded at the same time. “Deal.”
George was not happy, at the moment. To say he was would be a complete and utter lie. You grinned at your husband sweetly, as if you hadn’t completely mucked up his workshed trying to find some scissors and had instead managed to make everything else unorganized. Not something that couldn’t be fixed with some time, but George was quite annoyed right now.
“Fatima I asked you not to touch my things.”
There was a reason for that– not that he was much of a control freak, but there were so many different ingredients in here and things that tended to explode if they weren’t taken care of carefully– he wanted to keep you away from it without him there.
“I needed to find some scissors.”
“You couldn’t just use a summoning charm?”
You blinked for a moment– why hadn’t you thought of that? He ran a hand through his hair and heaved out a sigh, wondering what he needed to do to put everything to rights. George bit his lip and you grinned mischievously, “You’re fucking hot when you’re mad, you know.”
There was a gleam in his eyes, as he looked towards you. “Careful now Love, I might ask you to make things up to me.”
warnings: tons. mentions of torture. ptsd. anxiety. depersonalization. blood, brief description of a broken finger (no bones showing). not proofread
wordcount: 2.4K
pairing/characters: george x reader, fred weasley
description: you are tortured for information about the weasley twins, after you decide to be their secret keeper. george, your boyfriend, becomes desperate to hear you speak once more.
a/n: so i’ve had this idea for a while, used it (sort of) for a fred oneshot but the very lovely @nosebleednougats asked me to write this once i told her about my idea. thanks wife <3
You were covered in bruises and burns. Though it felt like half of your brain was no longer working as you felt yourself becoming more and more numb, you reckoned you were coming away from this, at least with a dozen or so scars. You grit your teeth before you apparated and winced, it seemed you’d cracked a molar.
Suddenly, you found yourself at the place you’d sworn to protect. The little cottage with the perfect garden, owned by the less than kind aunt of Fred and George, Muriel. She wasn’t who you were trying to protect though.
“You can’t do this. I won’t let you do this.”
“I’ve already done the spell, George. I’m your secret keeper. Besides, I don’t need you to let me do anything.”
“You could die! You could get tortured! You know what happened to the Longbottoms!”
You stood tall, and for a moment George forgot that he was taller than you. For a moment George thought that there was no one in the world who would dare challenge you on this or that no Death Eater would ever go near you with the intent to torture.
Still, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t say–
“You don’t have to do this.”
And what kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn’t say–
“I really do.”
Your feet crunched on the frozen grass, and the cold only served to soothe your suffering for a few more moments as you walked to the door. Vaguely, you heard Fred asking if anyone heard that. Through your cotton clouded mind you knew that if you didn’t speak up, if you didn’t say you were there and that it was all still safe they might finish what the Death Eaters started.
The idea of that seemed to be too much, and before you knew it you felt your leg give out underneath you as you stepped forward, and the ground rushed up to meet you.
Your vision began to go dark, closing down until the pinpricks of light in the middle of your sight went away, and all sound became one long white noise until there was nothing left.
You could not think. You could not feel. It was not until a few moments later when someone with vaguely familiar feeling hands was kneeling next to you, pulling you up to sit and pressing a glass of water to your lips that you finally began to feel everything rushing back.
It hurt.
You hurt.
It was all too much– you could see the boys in front of you, poor George with just one ear and tears in his eyes saying things that you could hardly make yourself hear. You knew he was asking what happened, hoping you would say it was nothing while Fred seemed much less optimistic.
But you couldn’t make yourself talk.
It was too much.
Your shaking hands could hardly hold the water. One of your fingers appeared to be quite broken and looked to you like it ought to be hurting quite a bit.
You sucked in one long breath, and released it. There was a part of you saying to keep fighting! That you’d come this far! That talking wouldn’t be that hard! You’d gotten tortured for information and fought off a pair of Death Eaters for fucks sake! Talking to your boyfriend and his brother would be easy!
That saying it all was the right thing.
Would be so much kinder to George.
Would be the nice thing to do.
But you hurt.
You hurt. You were bloody. You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to think.
Everything felt muffled, far away.
You wondered if you ought to force yourself to snap out of it before you decided that it simply was going to hurt too much right now to do that. To talk. To relive it all. You looked up at George and the sounds you were hearing didn’t seem to match up with how his lips were moving. He seemed frantic. He looked so scared that it was just one more jab to your stomach.
description: george and his girlfriend have hit a rather large rough patch now that it’s time for him to leave hogwarts. both are afraid to admit that they’re quite certain him leaving will be the death knell to their relationship. regardless of their insecurities, they fight to make it work.
“Please don’t go.” it’d been the first thing you’d said when he told you, and immediately you knew that you’d cut him deeply and tried to fix your misstep– “I just… I love you.” your fingers trembled as you gently set your hands on his chest, and George noted that your nerves seemed rather frayed.
Things had been hard. Umbridge had been ruling the school with an iron fist and had also been strangling the life out of your relationship.
Somehow you knew deep down that if he left it could very easily destroy everything for you both.
“I have to go.” his voice was soft, he and Fred were about to leave any moment– their trunks were packed and everything was planned.
He pulled you close, so you were flush with his body. You pressed your ear to his chest and took in the sound of his heartbeat.
You couldn’t lose him.
Umbridge couldn’t take this away from you too.
“I could come with you.”
“Don’t do this, Y/N…” George smoothed down your hair and felt his heart break just a bit, “You’ve got to stay if you want to be a healer. You’ve got no chance at it without your N.E.W.T.S.” he began to press kisses to your face as you cried, and allowed you to cling to his shirt front like a lifeline.
This was one of the few times where you wished George would have encouraged you to do something against the rules.
You could hear Fred coming. You didn’t have long now.
“What’s going to happen now George?”
He inhaled the scent of your hair, and soaked in every inch of you that he could. Despite how much you’d been fighting, he loved you. How could he not love you? “Well– me and Freddie are going to leave soon, fuck up the O.W.L.S testing…”
“No– no I mean are we breaking up now that you’re leaving?”
George’s stomach dropped about fifty feet, it felt like someone had sucked the air out of his lungs as he gripped you so tight momentarily you wondered if there would be a bruise from his fingertips should they stay much longer, “Is that what you want?”
Desperately, you shook your head. “No–! I’m just scared George aren’t you scared?”
“Terrified.” George spoke so earnestly that it shook you off your guard, “I’m bloody terrified. About the shop, about leaving Hogwarts too early, about losing you. I’m scared all around. But if you still want to be with me, and date me, then that’s what we’re going to do.”
You were struggling just a bit with this new train of thought– but you were nodding, quite hopeful. “But how are we going to–” wasn’t Umbridge going through the mail?
Fred stood at the end of the hallway, watching out of the corner of his eye for someone who might stop him and George from leaving. As much as it pained him to do this, there wasn’t time to have the long talk you two needed. “I’m sorry, but we’ve got to get going Georgie.”
Quickly, you felt George’s hands move to your cheeks as he pressed a firm kiss to your lips, grinning down at you hopefully with a bit of sadness, “Don’t you love me?”
“Of course!”
“Then we’ll make it work. It’s what– a little less than two months until you graduate? It’ll be bloody awful, but we’ll make it work. If Fred and I can run an underground business here I reckon I can sneak in some mail. We’ll be alright.”
For the first time in a while you looked rather hopeful about all of these things, “We’ll be alright.”
Still terrified– but it strangely helped to know he was scared too.
He pressed his lips against yours once more. “I love you.”
Anon: “Hey (I asked you about the pillow talk and I really loved it). Now, I wanted to ask you if you please could write an imagine where Umbridge uses, every time she can, y/n to get George (looks for excuses to punish him somehow)” I’m really glad that you’d write again😊. I read your rules and I hope this request is well written, so you could write it😁.
warnings: blood
wordcount: 595
a/n: thank you for being so patient! i hope you like this <3 i twisted it a little bit? but i think it still fits
George Weasley was a protective man. He would certianly stress the ‘man’ bit– he was almost 18, he and his brother had started their own business that was going to do quite well, and they were set to open up their own shop the moment they got out of Hogwarts. He was an adult. Which made all of this especially frustrating. Feeling like a small child who couldn’t protect the girl he fancied.
Except that this time, the girl he fancied was his girlfriend, who was being targeted by the devil herself, because Umbridge wanted to get a rise out of him.
It seemed that once he and Fred got better at hiding their business from Umbridge, she decided to hit him where it really hurt.
With no proper proof of him doing anything– there was one way to punish him.
Going after you.
To your credit, you were taking it all rather well.
“I’m fine, Georgie.”
“You’re not fine– look at your hand….” his voice trailed off as he dabbed a salve on your new scar that said ‘I will obey’, throat tightening with nerves and guilt. The fact that there didn’t seem to be anything he could do to fix this was the worst part. He hadn’t skipped any DADA classes in weeks, was behaving in that class– tried to lay low on the pranks but nothing seemed to be getting you out of this.
Hell, even Fred had begun to do the same– on the off chance that Umbridge thought that Fred was George when he acted out.
Nothing helped.
You always wound up here.
With a quick kiss to your cheek, George scooped you up into his arms. Nuzzling into your neck. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“George it’s not your fault. You haven’t done anything for a long time– I think she just likes to torture people at this point.” gently you played with his hair, and smiled at him. You knew Umbridge was trying to get to him through you but honestly, with so many other people in the D.A getting detention as well, it seemed less like her singling you out and more like something that all of your friends were going through as well.
You continued until the frown began to ease off of his face, and your began to grow. It was strange seeing George so somber lately– it was a far cry from the jolly boy you’d fallen in love with. “I just want to keep you safe.”
“I know. But I am safe. A hand won’t kill me, will it?”
His face fell the smallest bit, “You know what I mean, love.”
You gave him one last swift peck on the cheek, “I do. But I still know everything will be alright, George. We’ll be out of here before you know it– and you won’t ever have to see her again. The school year always passes by quicker than you think it will.”
George’s smile came back quick. “And I’ll have you with me.”
“Yes sir.”
His tone was mischievous, “Because we’ll be married.”
At that you quickly rolled your eyes– “I already told you I’m not getting engaged until we’ve graduated, George. Not any sooner.”
“Mmmm, but that’s still not a no, is it?”
Swiftly you pressed your lips to his, feeling him grinning against you. “No. It’s not a no– because you don’t get to ask yet, Numpty.”
Request: where y/n and George have been snogging every time they see eachother “in secret” (is a secret because they aren’t dating and are more of a “thing” btw they are best friends) they avoid the fact that they’re in love with eachother until George gets a little jealous because some guy in y/n’s class flirts with her. – @bailando-en-la-luna
Request: heyo can you do a george weasley imagine in which reader is the shy, quiet sort but one day in the library while she’s carrying books to her chair some idiot (e.g. mclaggen) starts harassing her and she slaps him in the face with a book (thick hardcover, injury 10/10) and george is flabbergasted? thank you! 💖 –anon
Warnings: none except for lots of making out? Not pg-13 though
Wordcount: 1.3K
Description: Y/N and George have an odd relationship—they aren’t actually together, but neither are dating anyone else. To everyone else however, aside from their closest friends, they’re simply best friends. However, when McLaggen flirts with Y/N—George wonders if this system is a good one, anymore.
a/n: I tweaked it a little bit? McLaggen won’t get injured, but I hope you still like it!
You were like gravity—George found himself constantly pulled towards you, even when his friends said that this probably wasn’t a good idea. He couldn’t help himself, not really, even when deep down he knew it was a good reason. All it took was a little twist of a smile from you, and he ached for you.
Which was probably how you two had ended up in this situation. It seemed so sudden when it started—you’d made a joke when you two were talking in an alcove about people thinking the wrong thing about you two. He’d cupped your cheek to mime being in a relationship, but before he knew it you were staring at him with flushed cheeks and parted lips, pupils blown wide.
Tentatively your hand reached up and went to the back of his neck, playing with the soft hair there.
After that he was gone. Completely entranced. You two had crashed together, and you’d let out the smallest whimper that made his knees nearly buckle beneath him. Your lips were so soft against his and when he’d pressed you against the wall you’d fit so well against him that he felt light headed.
There’d been silence after you’d broken apart, and you’d stared at him flushed, with red swollen lips. You’d stared at him for what seemed like forever—heart beating out of your chest.
Oddly, the first thing you thought was that you liked his hair that way—knowing you’d been the one to mess it up. It felt strangely cold without him against you, and you knew that things weren’t going to be the same from now on. You’d loved him for almost a year at that point, and you weren’t sure what this meant.
Honestly, you were afraid to ask.
Perhaps that was why you’d asked, a bit cowardly, “Kiss me again.”
Anything to put off having to ask that question.
Thankfully, George had been all too happy to comply.
Thus started your new relationship. Something between best friends and dating. You’d felt too strange to accept a date from someone else, and George hadn’t either.
Fred had told him this wasn’t a good idea. That he ought to just ask you out. That obviously you were going to say yes, and if he didn’t soon someone else was going to make their move on either one of you and it was going to get hurtful and awkward very quickly.
George had ignored his brother’s advice, something he now regretted. Especially as you two sat across from each other, studying at the library.
Well, if studying stood for chatting softly and not opening your books.
Then McLaggen had come up, leaned down next to you, and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Morning beautiful.”
There was a quirk in your eyebrow—you and Cormac were decent friends. Toeing the line between acquaintances. Was he flirting with you?
Well, he did that quite often, so you really shouldn’t have been surprised. Ignoring the arm on your shoulders and not noticing George’s expression, you continued, “Morning Cormac. How’s your day been?”
“It’ll be better if you agree to go out with me.”
Well you probably shouldn’t be too surprised by that one. “No, Cormac. We aren’t going to go out.”
He frowned a bit, as a couple of second years listening in from down the table giggled. “Why not?”
“I don’t have feelings for you.”
“Is there someone else?”
You fought the instinct to look towards George—knowing your secret would immediately become known. Without hesitation you shook your head. “No. I just don’t want to date you. George and I have to study—go head off. I know you’ve got class soon.”
He frowned at you and you rolled your eyes, shrugging off his arm. When he tried to talk you shook your head again, “It’s not happening. Move along.”
Staring pointedly at your book until he moved along, you sighed and looked up towards George, who was staring at you with an expression you couldn’t read. Though it certainly didn’t look happy. “I didn’t know he fancied you.”
“Honestly I just thought he was a flirt, you know how he is George. He’s in your house after all.”
That didn’t seem to help. George couldn’t quell the jealous feeling in his stomach. Certainly not when he was stuck on the fact that you’d said there wasn’t anyone else.
“So there’s no one else, huh?”
There it was—the thing that was going to bring this all toppling down. “What’d you want me to say? That you and I have been snogging in broom closets for the past four months? Only Fred knows about that—do you really think Cormac’s the best guy to add to the next line on the list?”
“I just thought I was someone.”
“This isn’t—“
George seemed to be working through something in his head, before starting to pack up his things. Why did Fred have to be right? Part of him wanted to be angry or upset but if he was honest he couldn’t manage the energy for it. Besides, what was he supposed to do? Shout at you for denying a secret relationship?
He wasn’t that guy.
He’d never been that guy.
Your voice was soft, “George please…”
“I gotta get to class. Fred needs my notes.” His throat felt tight, especially when he saw how scared you looked right now. ‘I’ll see you later.”
That was it—you didn’t manage to see George until the next night, and that had required quite a bit of legwork that had failed. Honestly you considered fighting someone if it turned out he and Fred had snuck out to Hogsmeade after classes.
Which was true—you’d seen them coming out of the entryway past the curfew. “George!” your voice carried quite loud in the silent hallway and you heard a far off meow.
“Dammit—“ Fred frowned between you and George, “I’m not getting detention because of you two. C’mon. Follow me.”
You mouthed a silent apology to both twins, scurrying behind both until you’d found your way behind a tapestry to hide until Mrs. Norris passed. When she did, you flushed as Fred looked between you and George, “Thank you for not snogging while I’m here. I appreciate it.”
“Fred.” George’s tone was rather terse, and he was rewarded with Fred taking the bag of candy away from him.
“I’ll just nip up to the dormitory and put these away, right? You two have fun.”
Just like that, Fred was gone, leaving you and George alone behind the tapestry. Very close together.
Normally, you’d be pulling him into you right now but that probably wasn’t wise. Nor did it seem like a healthy way to solve things.
It was time to be brave. Though it was not your strong suit it seems.
“Look—you’re someone. I’ve loved you for a long time. It’s just we started,” you frowned, unable to define what you two had, “Had. When we did I didn’t know what to do. And I’m sorry for that. If you don’t want to date I totally get—“
You were cut off by George wrapping his arms around you and pressing you against the wall. Instinctively you threaded your hands through his hair, another whine leaving your lips. It was hard to hear what he was saying when you pulled apart, his lips pressing against every inch of your neck. Finally though you managed to figure out what he was saying.
“I love you.”
The grin on your face was almost painful, but you couldn’t make yourself care. This was too wonderful.
“Yeah?”
He chuckled and looked up at you, “Of course—are you honestly surprised at this point?” he punctuated the sentence with a kiss, before grinning wide, “So you know what this means right?”
“We’re dating now?”
“Exactly. I’m also going to prank the hell out of McLaggen tomorrow.”
The sound of his girlfriend’s voice breaking through the silence immediately caught his attention, making him look up from the project he was tinkering with. There was a smile on his face, but that quickly disappeared when he saw the state Y/N was in.
Hair uncombed and clothes in disarray, Y/N looked liked a mess. There were slick bags underneath her eyes, and she kept nervously playing with the hem of her sleeve.
“Love, what’s wrong?” he asked, jumping up from his desk and quickly crossing over to her.
“I, um-” she paused, like she was trying to find the right words. “You love me right?”
George stared at his girlfriend, dumbfounded. He couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of her question. “Of course I love you! Now what’s gotten into you?”
Gently guiding her over to the nearby bed, George sat down on the edge, pulling her down onto his lap. He smoothed her hair down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
“I’m sorry, George,” she whispered, quickly grabbing hold of the hand that wasn’t petting her, “I just get anxious sometimes, I guess, like I need validation.”
Smiling, he pulled her closer to him, pressing another kiss to her cheek, “I’ll validate the bloody hell out of you, love. You never need to worry about a thing. I’ll make you a little membership card, just for being my girl. Stamp, stamp.”
Y/N laughed at this, blushing slightly and turning her face into his chest. “Merlin’s beard, you don’t have to do that, George.”
Chuckling with her, George removed his wand from his pocket, pointing it at a nearby sheet of paper and flicking his wrist. The paper floated a few inches into the air, quickly folding itself down to the size of a business card as writing appeared on its surface. When it was finished, it floated over to Y/N, dropping into her lap.
“See? Anytime you need some validation, love, you just bring that card right on over to me, and I’ll give you exactly what you need,” George whispered in her ear, his voice dropping an octave as he finished his sentence.
He watched the shiver travel down her spine, her legs briefly pressing together. Y/N looked between him and the card in her lap.
“Hey, George?”
“Yes, my love?” he said, nuzzling his face into the side of her neck and leaving a feather light kiss there.
You were going to kill him. Absolutely murder him without your wand or any assistance from your hands. You were wearing a little white dress with a wide skirt and longer sleeves. The back was shaped like a V and the button detailing reminded him just of a bridal gown.
“Are you alright George?” there was a smile on your soft lips, and George felt himself choke on his whisky. It was Ginny’s seventeenth birthday and you’d all gone out to celebrate. A nicer place than normal but who could blame them? She was the youngest Weasley and the last to reach adulthood.
He just wanted to pull you in close, though that didn’t seem terribly appropriate at the moment. Instead he reached out and gently ran his hand up your arm, taking in the soft fabric of your dress and the warmth of your skin. “You look so pretty tonight.”
You snickered a bit, flushing at the praise. “Aren’t you affectionate tonight? What’s gotten into you.”
“You’d be acting the same way if your girlfriend was dressed like a bride.”
That comment made you turn full on red. You fiddled nervously at your satin bow around your waist, you hadn’t really thought about that. The war had been hard on your clothes– or rather you’d had to leave a lot behind so you could move around and go into hiding. So when you’d needed a new one you’d simply gone to Malkins and bought the one that struck your fancy.
Well that, and a few lacy things that you thought George might appreciate, but that was neither here nor there.
“A bride?”
“Or an angel, if you believe in that sort of thing.”
Your throat felt tight, you’d always pictured yourself marrying George after the war– you’d spoken about it before you’d been separated, but there’d been no talk since then. Honestly you’d been a little concerned that he no longer wanted that.
Gently, as if he might break you, he reached forward and pressed such a light kiss to your lips that you wound up shuddering into it. “What’s wrong Lovey?”
“I didn’t know you were thinking about that stuff anymore Georgie.”
He stared at you in a bit of confusion, head tilting to the side, “Why would you think that?”
“Well we haven’t– I mean not since the last time we saw eachother before the war…”
“You thought I might not be serious?”
His tone was a little hard to read, though you didn’t see him upset with you. “No I just didn’t know if it was something you were still thinking about now that there’s not a time crunch?”
Molly called out for the cake to be cut and you very slowly removed your arm from George, aware that this might be a sensitive subject. “It’s not a bad thing– just a little misunderstanding. Those happen, don’t they?” He nodded a bit blankly at you, before resting his hand on your waist and guiding you to the kitchen.
“We can talk when we get home.”
That had you a little nervous for a fight, though George was simply thinking whether or not the last time he’d actually outright talked bout that was almost a year before.
A misunderstanding.
Something he could fix.
You’d gotten home later that night, and he watched as you took off your nude heels and flexed your feet to bring back some blood flow. When your hands reached up to take down your hair, he reached out and did it for you silently, “Would you like help with the buttons on your back as well?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Things felt… a little tense but not overly so. Nothing terrible. Delicately he helped you out of your dress and made no move to further things though he found that your slip underneath was white and trimmed with lace as well.
A bride?
His bride one day?
“About what I said, George– I would love to marry you. I’m ready to whenever you’d like, honestly. But I get that we promised a lot of things because we were scared. That’s no one’s fault, and I could have brought it up. That is on me. Honestly I’m really happy with how things are right now, even if they aren’t entirely as I thought they’d be! I mean– I never thought I’d be this happy.”
He wrapped his arms around you, smiling into your hair, “We went through a lot during the war.”
“We did.”
“Been trying to show you how I wanted things to be with us from now on. Show I wasn’t just talk and treat you how I would if you were my wife. Should have made that more clear though–”
“I should have said the same thing, George don’t be hard on yourself.”
He shrugged against you, “So we both had a little problem saying what we meant. There’s no shame in that. Just gotta learn better.”
You leant back against his warmth, tilting your head to allow kisses that he might give. “I’m alright with learning better.” There was the smallest smirk on your lips, “So if you let me take you out of those dress robes, can I show you how I’d like to treat my future husband?”
There was a nip behind your ear, “An absolute angel, you are.”
George , angst/ fluff list “i love you.” “why do you keep bringing it up?” “don’t say that.” –anon
Warnings: angst, implied smut (ish)
Wordcount: 924
Pairing: George x Reader
Description: You want to go into hiding with George during the war. He doesn’t think that’s safe, seeing as the reputation his family has and reckons there will be plenty of people going after him. Pain ensues.
A/N: thanks needs to go to @nosebleednougats (aka wife) for discussing this with me a few days ago—though I didn’t realize it’d become a request reply at the time hahaha.
“I want to come with you Georgie.” Your voice was firm, and in most cases George would have gone with whatever you were saying since it obviously meant a lot to you. This was not one of those times.
“Why do you keep bringing it up?”
His voice cut through the empty room, and you felt a large rush of anger at his tone. Like he was tired of this. Like you were bringing up something silly. Like you’d discussed it enough at this point. “Because it’s important George! Don’t you think this is important!?”
He dropped the book he’d been holding on the kitchen table and scowled at you, “I do think it’s important! Do you think I don’t care? I just don’t get why you keep bringing up something that I’ve already answered!”
“Because your answer’s reason is shit, George Weasley!”
“Oh so it’s shit now!?” his voice rose to match yours, “You know my family! We’re the biggest batch of blood traitors in all of England! You staying with me is like painting a giant target on your back and shouting out ‘Please murder me, Mr. Death Eaters!’ I’m not going to do that—fuck, even you dating me is dangerous—“
“Don’t say that!” Your tone was laced with warning, you doubted George would do anything stupid like breaking up with you just to ‘protect’ you but then again a week ago you would have sworn up and down that he’d want you by his side throughout the entire war and you were quite wrong about that weren’t you?
“I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. It’s why you can’t come! That’s it. That’s final—“ George didn’t like to be that person who ‘set his foot down’ on things. He was the guy that usually pranked that person but he would be damned if he put you in danger.
“George you can’t just decide everything without me there’s gotta be a discussion—“
“There was a discussion, you just didn’t like how the discussion went!”
Feeling something snap within you, you snatched up your coat from the chair next to you and flinched when the furniture knocked over. “Fine! Fine—have it your way. We’ll be separated for ages and won’t be able to protect eachother. That sounds loads better doesn’t it Georgie. We can do it exactly the way you want.”
“You think I want this?”
You grit your jaw, looking him square in the eye. You knew he wanted you to say no, but honestly you weren’t sure about anything at the moment.
“I think you do, yes.”
There was a look of very sincere hurt and anger that flooded George’s expression and rather than drag out this fight that you’d been having for the past five days any longer you apparated back to your apartment, and tossed your coat on the floor.
George was miserable. Half of his family agreed with him, that this would be for the best. That you shouldn’t put all your eggs in one basket. The other half told him he was being silly—that you’d both feel safer knowing where the other was at all time. That there wouldn’t be any worrying about you if he could see you there with him.
Fred had told him that he’d love to have you hide out with them, but he could also understand why it might be more dangerous.
A surprisingly diplomatic answer from his twin, George mused.
But here he was now—two days since he’d seen you last, sorting through inventory late into the night because going to sleep without you next to him again just hurt to think about.
His foot tapped on the floor quickly, and when he heard the loud pop of someone apparating into the apartment, he jumped out of his skin so quickly that briefly he wondered if he was about to stop existing. Seeing you he felt a surge of relief and a bit of annoyance, “Bloody hell you scared me shitless—“
“I’m sorry.” Your voice was soft and as George ran a hand through his hair he thought that you simply meant for scaring him, taking in your tone and your haggard appearance. You looked like he did—like there’d been hardly any sleep for you. “I got scared and I took it out on you. Shouldn’t have done that.”
George stayed quiet and looked you over in a way you weren’t sure how to interpret, so you simply trudged on, “I love you so much—and I just get scared about the war. I know you’re scared too so I shouldn’t have… you’re right I can’t just get mad because the talk didn’t go the way I want it that’s not fair to you I love you and you don’t deserve that and I’m just really sorry Georgie. I’m scared of losing you but that doesn’t excuse it—“
You felt yourself being cut off by a soft pair of lips, and being pushed backwards until you were practically sitting atop the table. George’s hands were roaming over you rather desperately as he pressed kisses all over your face, “You are never, never going to lose me. Not in a million years.”
“Georgie—“ your voice hitched in your throat as tears burned your eyes, trying to smile as feather light kisses wiped them away. Your hands gripped his shirt to bring him closer. “I love you so much—“
“I love you too. We’ll be okay. You’ll see. We’ll be okay.”
@thephelpstwins george weasley spoiling his s/o???;;;; idk i think he would be so excited once www gets going because he’s always wished he could give them everything beforehand and would make little things and save to buy a special gift and now he has expendable income he’s like ’!!!!! u deserve the world’ bc he is a precious bean but like they already have the world bc they have him obviously so yeah just;;;; i know u got this leeann i would entrust no other pls just write whatever you want bc ur the best!!!!
“Love, let’s go out tonight, yeah?” he grinned at you as he leaned against your doorframe, taking in the wonderful sight of you.
You shot him a slightly dubious look. Now that you two were out of Hogwarts you were finding that George was getting more and more eager to go out and do things and buy you trinkets or gifts. The other day when you’d mentioned that you didn’t have anything nice enough for the fancy restaurant he’d wanted to take you to, he’d gone out and bought you dress robes.
This was all coming from the man who’d celebrated your first anniversary by sneaking some food up with you to the Astronomy Tower to go star gazing. It’d been lovely, honestly, and you’d been perfectly happy without a gift though some of your friends had been surprised.
So all this sudden influx of gifts was strange, to say the least. “Are you sure? We went out a few nights ago. We can stay in if you’d like—I like that just as much you know.”
He beamed at you—so happy that he could finally give you the sort of treatment that you deserved. Sure, you’d said that you were happy when you two were in Hogwarts where he hadn’t been able to spoil you rotten, and he did believe you but dammit he was making good money now and he was going to treat you like the royalty you were. “I’m sure. You’re fine as is—“ he motioned to your sweater and jeans, “I was thinking of the Leaky Cauldron? Though I’ve got a surprise for you after.”
“Georgie you really don’t have to give me a surprise—“
“I want to. I want to do this stuff. Never got to when we first started dating, and even when I made a little money in Seventh year I had to save up and could hardly buy you butterbeer. I want to spoil you.”
You could feel your cheeks heat up, and you looked away for a moment—quite embarrassed by his little speech. The sentiment was rather sweet, though it did leave you with a small concern.
One of the biggest reasons you had been fine with George being unable to buy you gifts when you were in school was because you hadn’t had any money either. Now that you were out, you were making some, you had a job you loved at a small apothecary. You were able to afford a small apartment that was nice enough. You had enough left over to save up in case of emergencies or for the future. You even had a little to ensure that you could get George nice gifts from time to time.
Not this often though.
It felt rather odd being unable to reciprocate everything he was giving you.
“Are you alright Y/N?”
You looked back at George, and smiled, “I’m great. The Leaky Cauldron sounds wonderful.”
By the end of the night you were feeling quite happy and to be honest, a tad drunk. Your legs were laid over George’s as you two cuddled close in the booth, giggling at some joke he’d said. You pressed a kiss to his cheek and laughed again as his face flushed. “You’re wonderful Georgie, you know that right?”
“Mmmmm, well it’s always nice to hear.” He nuzzled into your hair, “You want your surprise now?”
You took George’s hand in yours and played with his fingers, smiling softly at them, “I love you very much.”
His brows furrowed in confusion, as he trailed his hand up and down your back, fingertips tracing your spine, “I know. I love you too.”
“I don’t need all this stuff you know.” When he tried to speak you shook your head, “No, I gotta say it. You’ve always been the best boyfriend I could ever imagine, you’re really thoughtful and you always make sure that you talk to me about things. It’s wonderful. I just don’t want you to think that I need all this stuff, you know? If you want to do it that’s one thing but I don’t want you to think that I’ve gotta have all this time out or all these gifts. ‘m in here for you. Just you alright?”
The smile on George’s face was rather wide, as he looked down at you in adoration. He pressed a kiss to your earlobe, “You’re the most amazing person in the world, you know?”
You winked at him, “It’s always nice to hear.”
His arms snaked around you, and he gave you a rather large squeeze. “I do like spoiling you though. You look awful cute when you get surprised.”
At that you giggled once more and finished off your glass of wine, “As long as you let me spoil you back, okay?” there were things you could do that you liked doing—grabbing him coffee or bringing dinner on a long work night. That was something you’d be perfectly happy to do.
