George Weasley X Reader - Blog Posts

HI, IM CLAIRE!

Hey, this is my first post and I'd like to introduce my account!

I want to start writing fanfics and stuff like that; these are some of the people/fandoms I'd write:

-mcyt

-chuckle sandwich

-CoD (mostly just ghost and könig)

-pen15

-harry potter

-TWD

-riverdale (probably not much tho)

I won't do any incest or dubcon.

Feel free to write requests or anything!

P.s. I'm on moble so idk if that maks any difference ❤️❤️❤️

THIS WAS SOOO BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN WOWW

The Weight of a Shadow | G.W.

George Weasley has spent his life as one half of a whole, his individuality often lost in the glow of his twin’s boundless charm. Beneath the laughter and mischief lies a quiet struggle, a longing to be seen as more than a shadow. But when you enter his world, something shifts, and for the first time, George finds himself seen, not as a twin, but as a whole. In this universe, you chose him.

Click here to read an alternate universe where you chose Fred instead of George.

𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘 𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚𓆚 𓆘

Fred always seemed to burn just a little brighter. His laugh, bold and wildfire-strong, lingered long after the echo of their pranks had faded. Applause always found him first, the crowd magnetized by his magnetic confidence. Even in quieter moments, it was Fred they gravitated toward—his charm effortless, his presence undeniable.

George would smile through it all, as though the comparisons didn’t sting, but deep within, an ache brewed. A quiet storm he kept to himself.

Maybe it was the way Fred's grin tilted, sharper and more self-assured, or the ease with which his voice commanded attention. Perhaps it was something intangible, something George couldn’t touch even if he tried. Whatever it was, it gnawed at the edges of his heart, a silent weight he carried alone.

And then, there was you.

You arrived one sunlit afternoon, a quiet force with a magic that had nothing to do with spells or wands. Unlike so many others, you didn’t lose yourself in Fred’s blaze. You didn’t mistake George’s laughter for an echo, or his presence for half of a whole. The way your gaze lingered on him felt like sunlight on frozen ground, a warmth he hadn’t realized he’d been yearning for. You saw him. Truly saw him.

At first, George doubted it. Surely, you’d mistaken him for Fred, like so many others had. But you disproved him at every turn. You caught the subtleties. The way George’s humor leaned toward sharp wit, while Fred’s was louder and bolder. The precision in George’s hands as he worked on their inventions, where Fred’s energy was a chaotic whirlwind. You noticed the faint scar above George’s brow, a remnant of a long-ago experiment gone wrong. And when you touched it one day, your fingers brushing the mark with such tenderness that it left him breathless.

For the first time, the ache began to fade. Slowly, it dissolved into something lighter, something warmer. When you laughed at his jokes, it felt like the world cracked open to let the light in. When you spoke his name—just his name—it was a melody that played only for him. And when you reached for his hand, your fingers tangling effortlessly with his, it felt as though the universe had quietly clicked into place.

Fred noticed, of course. He always did. He had been George’s mirror for as long as they had existed, and the change in his twin was impossible to miss. George’s laughter came easier now, his smiles unguarded and brighter. And Fred saw the way you looked at George, with a kind of quiet adoration that pierced straight through his own bravado.

But Fred never spoke of it. Not when George’s smiles grew wider, not when the light in his eyes burned brighter than it had in years. For the first time, George seemed to stand taller, as if the weight of comparisons had finally lifted. And Fred, who had always been the center of attention, found that he didn’t mind stepping back.

One evening, as the sun painted the sky in fiery hues, Fred watched from the doorway as George sat beside you, your head resting gently on his shoulder. There was something in his twin’s expression. A peace Fred hadn’t seen before, as if George had finally found his place in the world.

“You make him happy,” Fred said later, when it was just the two of you in the kitchen. His voice was quieter than usual, lacking its usual bravado. “And that’s all that matters.”

You turned to him with your brow furrowed, searching his face for some trace of resentment or longing. But all you found was warmth, tinged with something unspoken.

“Fred,” you began, but he waved his hand with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“It’s alright,” he said quickly. “Really. George deserves this. He deserves you.”

And he meant it. Even if there was a small, quiet part of him that ached for something he couldn’t name, Fred would never let it show. For all his charm and bravado, his heart had always been his most closely guarded secret. And in that heart, George’s happiness mattered more than anything else.Still, as he watched you and George from the shadows, a quiet thought took root in his mind — a thought he would never voice aloud. If your opinion mattered so much to George, it mattered just as much to Fred. Perhaps even more.

Smut headcanons: George Weasley.

[Notes: Well, a little love to my man, bless his hands.

Also, I'm sorry if there's any mistakes, english isn't my first language. And I'm sorry for taking so long]

WARNINGS: NSFW! CONTENT, thigh riding, slightly Dom/sub, hand kink (?), sexual innuendo in public (but not so clear), a little vainilla.

Honestly, having sex for George Weasley had never been a priority.

Sure he enjoyed it, but he never found it to be something to get addicted to.

He remembered fifth year, how his friend Lee would throw his head back talking about the wonderful blow job that a girl had given him. It was never like that for him.

Sure he had his tastes and Lee his, but even when he was pulling a girl's hair in sixth year, something he had been dreaming about a few months ago, it didn't feel so great. It was weird, he even thought his friends were pretending how much they liked sex.

But he also knew that he had never loved any girl he had sex with.

So when Fred and George hired you to serve customers in their store, he hung around you for about a year, unable to touch you.

It was unbearable, you stayed away because you didn't want to get involved with someone from work and less a boss as direct as George.

But not being able to touch you drove him crazy. He had to watch you flit all over the place every day, unable to do anything, just look at you and have little talks.

It was no surprise that after a few more in-depth talks in the backstore, you finally said yes to a date and it ended up with the two of you in bed.

That time it was definitely something, the two of them came fast and hard, looking into each other's eyes and forgetting about everything.

It was devastating for George, who soon dragged you into his arms and fell asleep in your bed.

You both didn't get their hands off each other in the morning either, not at breakfast either, and at the end you had a quickie before George rushed to lunch at The Burrow.

Of course when he showed up to his parents' house in yesterday's clothes, wet hair and sparkling eyes Fred couldn't help but laugh out loud and annoy him for the rest of the afternoon.

But he didn't care, he was so caught up in that feeling that there wasn't anything but your walls enveloping him that he hardly noticed.

Almost without hesitation, after lunch and spending a few hours in the company of his family, he returned home and took his time with you.

Well you took your time with him, you rode him looking into his eyes, his hands clenching your thighs and your fingers digging into his hair and pulling every time it was too much.

George wouldn't believe there was a whole world outside of the bed he shared with you.

You looked like the owner of the world while you rode it, with your skin shining and your breast bouncing.

He became a little addicted the first months.

So of course you two had a lot of quickies.

And with that he became a little too touchy.

Kissing your neck and lips while he's passing next to you at work.

Grabbing your hips from behind when you couldn't reach the cabinets to help you get something.

Gently pull the strands of your hair when they tease each other.

Rubbing his crotch with your butt when he had to pass and the hallway was small for both of us (this happened more times than expected).

And holding your hand all the time, if there wasn't a good reason to let you hand go, he wouldn't release your fingers.

The bad and good thing we're that all of this things were things that he did during sex. So you would be at least a little turned on after these.

He also loves teasing you about how wet you are after that.

"How is it that my baby is wet after a little neck kiss? You must be thinking about me all the time."

You would act as if you were really mad, but you would let him drag you into a closet and fingering you to a wonderful release.

You would also love give him a hand job, it just felt the right way with him in your hand, going up and down as you pleased.

Everytime that you would give him a hand job, his own hands wouldn't be still.

He will let his hands grab your hips, then when you got him all nervous, his hands would go up and grab your tits.

He probably needed the support anyway, you loved to mess with him.

And then your wrist, his bin hand around your wrist to stop you when it would be too much.

"That's it, make me cum now or I won't let it feel nice for you."

He never fullfil that warning, he loved too much seeing you orgasm that the opportunity wouldn't be lost, even if you are the one who receives the pleasure.

You two tried a lot of things in bed, not all of them went good, but nothing felt glorious in a way that you couldn't live without it.

One of the things that went good was thigh riding, from both of you.

He loved seeing you riding him, it didn't matter that it wasn't his dick, he loved you riding him in anyway.

And when he was riding your thigh it would be a great view.

He would have to adjust to your position, sometimes crouching down and other times almost standing on his tiptoes.

And the he would be moving his hips, rubbing with his pants still on, on your leg. Sometimes you would unzip them and give him a manual job, other times you would make him cum on his pants.

He was definitely a switch, for the little dom/sub that you both tried.

It was good, but mostly of the time you two wouldn't want to think about an scene, you guys would just want to fuck while getting lost on eachother's eyes.

It was healing for you two having that kind of connection during sex.

You both love it.

⋆⭒˚.⋆💍Paper Rings 💍 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

George Weasley x fem!Reader

You and George have been dating since your 4th year at Hogwarts. Now, both of you are adults, and an inside joke turns into an unforgettable proposal.

The grey clouds covered the sun’s rays, casting subtle shadows on the ground beneath. The smell of rain lingered in the air, mixing with the numerous floral scents from the flower bushes. It was a perfect day. A tall red headed man lay in front of you on a gingham blanket. George Weasley, your boyfriend of eight years, had planned a surprise picnic for you. Sweets from honey dukes, bottles of butter beer and freshly prepared food was spread out on the blanket.

“Life doesn’t get any better than this” You said, running your fingers through George’s hair.

“Oh yea? You think so?” George asked, a small grin forming on his face.

“George Weasley, knock that grin off your face right now. “ That grin meant he was upto something, which was never good news.

George sat up straight and pulled out something from his pocket. It was a paper ring. A small smile spread across your face.

“What is the meaning of this?” You laughed as you took the ring in your hand.

“Don’t you remember?”

Of course you remembered.

It was your 5th year at Hogwarts, as the 1 year anniversary of George’s and yours relationship was coming nearer , you couldn’t help rave about a necklace you wanted. You thought if you spoke about it enough George would buy it for you as an anniversary present.

“It has these beautiful stones imbedded into the chain. It’s all the craze right now. I think Malfoy got one for his girlfriend last week.” You told George, as you both were walking to potions class.

“Oh- erm. Yea that sounds nice. You know… I’ll catch you later y/n.” George said, not even making eye contact with you, as he walked away.

“Hey! Wait! Where are you going we have potions together-“ you called after him.

It was the day of your anniversary, but there was no sight of George anywhere. As sad as you were , you couldn’t help worry. Where was he? This was extremely out of character for him. You thought to yourself.

The day had passed and it was almost dinner time , still no sign of George.

You were waking down the corridors when you heard someone crying. It was coming from the empty Defence Against the Dark Arts class room. Curious, you peaked your head through the slightly ajar door.

It was George. His ginger hair was a ruffled mess. His eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he had been crying all day.

“George! Where have you been! Whats wrong? Why are you crying?” You questioned as you rushed to his side, plopping down on the floor next to him.

“I’m so sorry y/n. I’m so so sorry. You deserve better than me. You deserve someone who can buy you that necklace, someone who can afford to give you all the nice things in the world. I’m so bloody sorry. You deserve so much better.” He said between sobs.

A wave of guilt came crashing onto you. How could you be so stupid? You should have known better. Such a beautiful necklace could not have been cheap. You felt terrible for making George feel this way.

“You fool… is this why you’ve been avoiding me all day?” You asked.

George nodded , not daring to look you in the eyes.

“George. Listen to me. No amount of necklaces , jewellery or riches means more to me than you. I’ll admit, I do like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings.

You’re the one I want.” You said as you caressed his cheeks with your fingers.

Since that day, it had become an inside joke between the two of you. Every time you fought or had a disagreement, one of you would ‘call paper rings’. That was enough to end whatever quarrel you were in. And sometimes during classes, George would make rings out of spare parchment and pass them to you, making you blush uncontrollably. You knew since then, that George Weasley was the man you were going to marry.

“Y/n? You remember, don’t you?” George said, snapping you out of your reverie.

“Yes, obviously.“ you smiled. You inspected the ring in your hand a little closer. It felt oddly heavy for something made out of paper. You shook it against your ear, there was something inside.

“Open it.” He smiled.

Without hesitation, You tore the ring open, revealing a shiny gold ring with a large diamond on it.

“George…” Your head was spinning, was this real? Unable to form words , you just stared at the man in front of you.

“Y/n… will you marry me?” George asked, pulling you up to your feet.

“I- I like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings…” you replied, beaming with joy.

“You’re the one I want.” George said, finishing your sentence.

He placed the very-expensive-looking-ring on your finger, and pulled you in for a kiss.

As if it were magic, flowers started pouring down from the tree you both stood underneath. It was magic, from the day you laid eyes on George Weasley, you knew it was magic.

(All rights reserved, ©)

𝔹𝕖𝕕 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥🤭💌

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Fred weasly

Warnings: Fluff, Suggestive and Use of y/n

Summary: Y/n falls off her broom after a quidditch match and sustains a serious spine injury. She is supposed to be in bed rest at madam pomfery’s , but her bf ,Fred misses her a little to much.

Black clouded your peripheral vision, the world seemed to be spinning and you couldn’t make sense of the figures before you. Soon everything came into focus, a group of people circled around the bed you were lying on; the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Where were you? What happened? Why was everyone looking down at you?

“I think she is waking up,” a girl’s voice announced.

Then it all came crashing back to you... You fell off your broom during the Quidditch match! You were trying to hit the Bludger away from Harry just as he was about to catch the Golden Snitch, but it hit you in the head and you fell, toppling down 20 feet.

“Did we win?” You managed to croak, your voice barely a whisper.

“A determined lad she is, even on her death bed,” George said.

“And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. How are you feeling, Y/N?” Hermione asked, smiling at you.

“Never been better,” you joked.

“Yes. I caught the Snitch. All thanks to you. But please be more careful next time, Y/N. Nearly gave me a stroke when you fell,” Harry said, answering your question.

You smiled wearily.

Everyone was here, but the one person you wanted was nowhere to be seen.

“Uh- Where’s Fred?” you questioned.

“Right here, love.” A red-eyed Fred appeared.

“Aww baby, have you been crying?” you asked, teasing him.

Fred walked up to the bed and pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“We’ll take that as a cue to leave then. Take care, mate,” Ron announced.

After everyone left, tears escaped from Fred’s eyes.

“Freddie… I’m fine. Don’t cry, love,” you said as you brushed his cheek with your fingers.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, okay?”

“Okay.” You gave him a weak smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“THREE WEEKS!” Fred shouted at George.

“Three bloody weeks Y/N’s been on bedrest! I can’t take it anymore, good god help me!” he cried.

“What’s with all the yelling?” you asked as the Weasley twins approached you.

“This big guy here is having a hard time keeping his little guy under control, since you’ve been on bedrest.” George smirked.

You couldn’t help but turn red after George’s comment.

“Oh bugger off, George,” Fred scolded.

After George left, Fred cozied up on the hospital bed with you.

“I miss you so much, Y/N.”

“I miss you more.”

“You know… there are things we can do that don’t require much… action. I won’t even need to get out of bed,” you suggested.

“Don’t tempt me, love. What if someone walks in on us?” he asked.

“So let them…” you smirked.

(All rights reserved, ©)