#angelina gif pack

[stcrlites]

💌 𝐆𝐈𝐅 𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 * gif pack #10 : angelina jolie.

by clicking the source link, you’ll be redirected to a gif page of #141 gifs sized 268x151 of ANGELINA JOLIE IN GIRL INTERUPTED. ariana was born in 1975 and is caucasian and was around 24 at the time of filming; please cast her accordingly and DO NOT use these in celeb rp and/or smut rp.

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ ♡leave a like or reblog if you found these useful

[cherry-pop-elf]

Home Sweet Home

Ron Weasley x Reader

Ron had always been self conscious about his family, and felt like you would leave him if you saw his humble home. That you deserved better. Little did he know, you were about to live the cottage core dream. Just factor in a bunch of hot older brothers, and Ron’s relaxing it wasn’t the house he had to worry about

Set after The Battle Of Hogwarts, and uh No Dead Fred because FLUFF DAMMIT!

Warnings: jealous Ron, self conscious Ron, teasing, a very loaded house, hurt comfort, canon typical angst(?) and of course tooth rotting fluff

Writing Coms Open

“Well…..Here we are-“ Ron swallowed, as the two of you would step from the fire place. You had been begging to visit his family, but his original excuse was that it was too dangerous to travel. Valid, but the war had ended. Sure, just because the war was over didn’t mean things were all tied off. Still, he can’t just hide you forever. You out right threatened to write a letter to Molly, and ask to come over yourself. That made him cave.

“Woah-!” You just beamed, as you set your bag down. You were already utterly enchanted. It was so cozy, and busy! You could hear the many siblings all around the building. Ron had warned you the place would be packed. After the war, it was a need to be closer to family. So, a Summer at the burrow it was. Oh all the romantic partners, jammed in. You included.

“Who should I meet first?!” You asked, as Ron seemed flabbergasted. You were in love with the madness, and hardly were here a minute. Before he could speak, he was tackled by the twins. Ronniekins was quick to fill the living room, as they ruffled his hair. Pinching his cheeks, and just being a menace.

You knew the twins, and Ginny, well. It was Percy, and up, that were as forgien as their hair was orange. Percy was always so busy with his studies, you sometimes forgot it was a gaggles of seven, and not six. Made it more surprising to see him, but not a surprise that it was in a suit.

“It’s complicated-“ Ron was quick to whisper, to make sure you knew not to bring up the Ministry job. You just nodded your head, as you watched the up tight man hang up his suit jacket. Hardly gave the man time to register you were there, before your were suddenly engulfed by the sent of fire crackers. Along with long arms.

“OUR LITTLE RONNIE-KINS IS ALL GROWN UP-!” The twins would give a mock sob, as George would cradle Ron’s head. It was, painfully, easy to tell who was who. Poor George. Still handsome as ever, but that’s gotta mess with your head after all. From identical, to not.

“Alright, that’s four brothers down. Two to go-!” You tried to make sure the mood stayed chipper, while your poor boyfriend was being a knuckle to his scalp. You could hear Molly tsking, before she shouted. “BOYS-! DONT MAKE ME GRAB CHARLIE-!” She warned.

“As if I’m any better-!” That had you turn your head, and woof. He was, oh he was something. The thick muscles, sun kisses skin, freckles, the fire crisped mullet, currently being tied back by blistered hands. Oh he was hot, and literally as well. You could feel the heat on his exposed skin. Given it was a tank top and jeans, damn was there a burn.

“THEN WILLIAM-!” Molly groaned, as he was next to pop his head in. You tried not to wince, but it couldn’t be helped. Half his face was just….Not there anymore. The right side of his face was rough. Blinded eye, his cheek in a permeant split to always expose his teeth. How the scar went through his hair, so to leave a permeant part. Despite it all, there was beauty. Pale complexion from exhaustion with curses, tall frame, long hair. He was stunning.

“Looks like Ronnie-Kins has competition~!” The twins mocked Ron, which made his ears go red. He was always self conscious. Even before you knew he even had brothers. He was always the last out. Even Ginny seemed to have more superiority than him. Despite the fact she was outside, riding her broom, he still would be last to the table. That’s what he thought, anyway.

“Yeah, the married men are in a contest with their little brother.” Bill snorted, as he waved his hand. Showing off his band. “Yeah, sorry, I like my men like I like my dragons. Dragons-“ You had no idea what that meant, but you were certain you’ll learn eventually. You knew not everyone was here yet, after all.

“Can SOMEONE help me with the cooking already?!” Molly shouted, only for every man in the room to scatter. You found that so rude to do to Molly, but then it clicked. Bonding time for you and her. Ok, that was sweet. They get a pass, this time.

“I’m here, Mama Molly!” You chirped, as you hurried into the kitchen. That smile of hers just warmed your soul, as she patted your cheek. “Oh thank you, love.” And like that, you were busy in the kitchen. Happily listening to the endless stories she had to share. Your favorites were of Ron, of course. It was, however, nice to be caught up to speed about the other couples.

Fleur and Bill were married, of course. Ron wanted to invite you to the wedding, but your family wanted to stay out of England until things settled. Smart choice. Charlie finding someone was a surprise, but rumor has it the guy is literally part dragon. That explains that. Percy seemed to hit it off with Oliver, that caught you by surprised. The nerd, and the jock? No way. Fred and George seemed to be sharing Angelina. For some reason, you couldn’t imagine it any other way. Muggle twins weren’t the same as magical ones, that’s for sure. Ginny wasn’t a surprise. She and Luna became official a while ago. Everyone knew that poor Ginny felt like she had to like Harry. Seemed the same was for The Boy Who Lived. So it was mutual, and healthy. Good for them.

“Jeez, that’s a lot of food-“ You wheezed, as you had to use magic to float said food over. “Seven kids, six partners. Half of said kids eat like they are five kids at once-!” She huffed, but was happy. Ever since things finally settled down, a proper income was flying their way. Curse breaker, Dragonologist, WWW, Aurur, Quidditch Athelet. Good fortune smiled on them, finally.

“Sorry for being late-! You would not believe the-Oh-! Well if it isn’t Ron’s little honey bee. So happy to see you-!” Arthur didn’t even take the time to pull his robe off. Just so quick to hug you. That made you feel so adored. Didn’t even take the time to deformal. You had to be hugged.

“Seems like just about everyone is here for supper. Fleur and Luna are upstairs, Angelina, Ginny, and Oliver are outside, we just need-“ Before she could finish, you screamed. Why did you scream? Because something was grabbing your ankle. You gave a violent kick, and the thing went flying into the sink.

“THAT WAS NOT CHARLIE-!” A voice alerted you, and the parents, as someone was quick to hurry to said sink. Long salt and pepper hair was a curtain down his back, while he seemed to wear a robe of some kind. Yukata-? Hanfu-? You didn’t really know the names. You just knew it was no bath robe.

“Shouren, we talked about this-“ Molly gave a playful scold, as she wasn’t mad at all. The Weasley twins had to get that playful side from both families after all. “Apologies, I….We haven’t seen each other in months, and I-“ He defended, as you were able to process the scene.

What went flying was a mechanical arm of sorts. The silvery eyed man, full of scars, would soon lower the side of his robe. There was a scarred up shoulder, with plating on it. With a simple click, and pop, the arm was attached. Fingers were given a test movement, before Molly dried it off for him.

“Oh, hello-!” He waved, with his working arm. “Sorry about that, I’m Long Shouren-“ He offered his hand, and you took it. “Weasleys, am I right?” You joke, as to show no hard feelings. Least your screams of bloody murder was making everyone hurry to the kitchen. PTSD does that.

“Wonderful! William set the table, Charlie grab the drinks-“ Molly was quick to run down the list, and send out orders. Like a well oiled machine. Robes were hung up, people were set, and everything was in order. Just one issue. There was zero chance everyone will fit at the table. No worries, with Luna.

“Let’s sit where we feel ourselves feel most at peace, so we can take a moment to savor.” Luna said, ever in her whimsical way. So, everyone was kinda scattered around. As if that was an issue. Weasleys were loud. Voices could carry for miles.

As expected, couples found their ways to snuggle. Molly and Arthur remained at the table, with Bill and Fleur. Same goes for Percy and Oliver. The twins had Angelina squished between themselves on the couch, while Charlie was sitting cross legged with Shouren. Ginny and Luna? They stole the free counter space, and happily kicked their feet.

“This house-“ Ron huffed, as you snuggled into him at the dinner table. That seemed to relax him, a little. Still, he seemed to more so play with his food. Compared to actually eating it. His eyes catching glances at his siblings. Everyone seemed so in tuned with each other. Even Percy and Oliver. Oliver the one to lead the conversation, and Percy listened.

“Come on, eat. Someone’s gotta keep fit to kick some death eater behind.” You teased, with a poke to his nose. Made that freckled thing wiggle, and you were a giggle at it. Maybe he was over thinking it. Despite all the chaos around you all, your eyes were focused on him. All his brothers were so loud in their personalities. Ginny all the same. Loud, beautiful, chaotic, then there was him.

“So who wants to be the next test subject-?” Angelina called, while Luna was quick to raise her hand. “LUNA NO-!” Ginny wheezed, as everyone was laughing at her eager nature. “I lost enough limbs, thank you very much-“ Shouren called, waving his fake arm. “I mean-“ Oliver began. “Do NOT entertain them-“ Percy warned. Bill was just shaking his head at them, as the conversation flowed like water. The time going by.

When dinner had long since been finished, and Bill finished helping Molly with washing the dishes, everyone was sent to bed. Travel was exhausting after all. You couldn’t help but wonder how the hell Bill and Charlie were going to handle sharing a room with two extra people. Those thoughts were washed away, as you entered Ron’s room.

“I know it’s not much-“ He began, only for your gasp to hush him. “YOUR ROOM IS SO COOL-!” You beamed, as you spun around in it. You loved it. It was so him. It also had a semi tiny balcony, that you were quick to look over. Enjoying the warm summer night air. The smell of his home. The smell of him.

“It’s so cozy! I love cozy.” You beamed, as you hurried back in. Happily admiring his many posters, pictures and what have you. It was so perfect, because it was Ron. You couldn’t help it, as you flopped on his bed. Messy with quilts, and smelled of wood and rain.

“Yer not just saying that, right?” He asked, with his ears a soft red. He just always had such low self esteem. Everything felt like it was hidden behind other words. That nothing was honest, but you were. You would sit up, and smiled.

“Ron, you think I dated you for some kind of hero credit? Lame. Give me the cute red head helping teach the first years chess, thank you very much.” You smirked, as his face burned red. Course you remembered that. You wanted to learn chess as well, but you felt shy because you were the same age. So you often just watched, and the rest was history.

“Now come on. I’m exhausted. I love your family, but wow….” You yawned, as Ron agreed. He grew up with them, but the energy is hard to match. Before either of you could fall asleep, you bother were quick to change into your sleep wear. That more so being stealing his shirt before he could even get it on. He allowed it, because you looked good in it.

“Think you can handle a whole summer of this?” Ron asked, as you curled up into his arms. Just like a puzzle. It felt so perfect. His strong arms around you, as he gently played with your hair. Legs a tangle mess, as you both hid under a thin blanket. Able to enjoy the summer night air.

“If I have you, I’ll face anything.” You smiled, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. It was returned, as he held you a little tighter. As if you said a spell to lock him in place. He felt a little more confident in the relationship now, and that made you so happy.

Hardly a minute went by, and you two were knocked out cold. His snores just perfect for your white noise. The sounds of nature, Ron, an old house full of love, and the crickets outside. With the smells of love, and home, to soothe you. What more could you want? The whole world was in your arms, and no way will you part from it.

[rampldgifs]

COMMISSIONED !  click the source for 238 gifs of ANGELINA JOLIE in WANTED (2008).  please note that i do not approve of the 5+/- age rule, especially since this show is already fifteen years old from date of posting. these were made from scratch and more will be added at my leisure, so please don’t edit, repost or claim as your own or i will eat you. tag me if you’re posting edited gif icons for public use. give this post a like or reblog if useful. enjoy !

[sebegifs]

*    𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜.     (   💌   )     ·     100  gifs  of  angelina  jolie  in  pushing  tin  (1999)  can  be  found  in  the  source  link  below.  all  of  these  gifs  were  made  by  me  from  scratch,  so  i  ask  that  you  don’t  redistribute,  add  to  hunts  or  claim  as  your  own.  please  like  &  reblog  if  you  find  these  useful.

[soyka4]

jane smith - mr and mrs smith 2005

[stannyramirez]

check the source link or HERE for #300 gifs of swedish singer ängie as herself in a music video and 'inside ängie'. all gifs are 268px by 165px and made entirely from scratch by me for roleplaying purposes. please REBLOG this post if you found it useful and check my rules for more info.

[gwldcnz]

💌  ❪ + 𝔽𝐑𝔼𝐄 ℂ𝐎ℕ𝐓𝔼𝐍𝕋 ! ❫ by clicking the source link you’ll find #83 gifs in 260x154px of the talented actress angelina jolie as fox in wanted (2008), she’s around 33 years old in this movie. all of this gifs were made by me from scratch only for roleplay purposes. don’t: repost or claim as your own. please, like & reblog this post if you find this useful in any way! if you would like to support me, please, consider buying me a coffee ☕ it will be greatly appreciated! commissions are open! info on the pinned post.

𝐭𝐰: violence, guns, blood, food, eating, drinking, kissing.

[crystalclear100x100]

Angelina Jolie!

If you are looking for Angelina Jolie gifs in this link or the source bellow you will find 100x100 gifs!

RULES: this is a celebrity rp friendly blog, you can edit them however you want just don't claim them as your own, they are made for roleplay purpose but feel free to use them whoever you want, if you want to check other sizes you can find them here!

[fangisms]

summertime at the burrow

A/N: i want to be an honorary weasley please im literally begging. notice me molly weasley

Pairings: Best Friend!Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fred finally invites his best friend home over summer holiday. Neither of you expected it to go so well. 3.7k words.

Warnings: fluff, best friends to lovers, ungodly amount of shenanigans, friendly bullying/teasing, mud wrestling, kissing, (friendly) violence, pet names (trouble, snookums, sugarplum, sweetheart), cursing, borderline frog abuse

"Good morning, trouble."

You hop into the seat next to him that he’d been saving for you. In fact, he’d been saving it for you since the first time you plopped down beside him after the sorting hat declared your house first year. You laughed when he shook your hand. He thought you had the cutest smile. Then you teased him for his devilish charm and he called you catty, and you’ve been teasing each other ever since.

"Are you packed and ready?” He sounds more worried than that time he nearly shattered his collar bone during a vicious Quidditch scrimmage. “We're leaving bright and early tomorrow. Mum says she's preparing a hearty lunch for our guests." Fred scarfs down the rest of his breakfast and turns to look at you to find you're looking back at him in bewilderment.

"Somebody's excited," you tease, ruffling his fiery locks and glancing over at George with a grin.

"If you think this is bad, you should see him before winter holidays," George huffs.

“I have.”

Fred rolls his eyes at you and you jab him in the side.

"Where are the lot of you off to?" Lee perks up from across the table, setting his plate down and wiggling his way between Alicia and Angelina.

"I finally got my honorary invite to the Weasley burrow this summer," you chirp, wrapping your arm over Fred's shoulders and leaning him into your side.

Lee cocks a brow and smirks at a suddenly and uncharacteristically shy Fred. "Well, it's about time! You've only been dating for—"

You shake your head. "No, not dating, Lee. I swear we've been over this—"

"Oh, we've been over it plenty. I just choose to ignore wicked witches when they lie—!"

You practically leap across the table with your teeth gritted to grab for his robes when you're stopped by the laughing twins holding you back from tearing into him. "Lee Jordan, you take that back right now, or so help me your mother will wonder why your hair's gone purple!"

"I'm not going to apologize for being lied to!"

"Let me at him! I'm trying to defend my honor here!"

"Miss—young lady!”—McGonagall appears behind you, sending you into shock and barreling back onto the bench—“Settle down! You're frightening the first years, and we typically prefer they come back in the fall."

"Apologies, professor, I was simply trying to have a friendly discussion with my classmate," you say, gesturing to Lee who smiles begrudgingly.

"Right, well, from now on, let's have our discussions from across the furniture, not on top of it." She wanders away, and you turn to stick your tongue out at Lee who is doubled-over and cackling at your being caught.

“I hope you know, we’re going to receive the same third-degree from my dear mother,” Fred mumbles in your ear. His heart races when you turn to him, a playful glint in your eye. You blink sweetly and rest your hand on his knee when he tucks his arm around your lower back. “But don’t worry, sugarplum, it’s never too late to try.”

He winks. Your eyes go wide, and you shove at his shoulder with a chuckle disguised by a scoff.

“Scabbers not the only rat in the Weasley family, I see.”

“That is exactly what I’m talking about, there’s no way you two are just friends—”

A slice of ham sticks to Lee’s cheek with a cold, wet slap as you eye him from across the table.

“Don’t listen to him, snookums, he just doesn’t understand our complicated arrangement,” Fred says, nudging your cheek with his nose and holding back laughter.

“Gross,” George mutters, grinning before he’s met with the same lunchmeat backhand his friend so rudely received. “Suppose I could’ve predicted that one.”

…

You wipe the sweat from your brow, slinging your carry-on over your shoulder before bending down to pick up your trunk. You’re trailing behind most of the rest of the group, just a few steps behind the twins while their younger siblings charge ahead through the field with Harry and Hermione. Fred checks in with you every couple of meters, making sure you don’t need any serious medical attention.

Once the twins breach the front door, you take a seat outside on your trunk, fanning yourself with your hand and throwing your head back. Then you hear:

“Fred, you better get out there and help that poor girl with her things!”

“Sorry, mum!”

You chuckle when he appears in the doorway moments later, winded as ever, hair plastered to his forehead, and still grinning wildly as he jogs over.

“What’s a lovely young lady like yourself doing outside all alone on such an unbearably hot afternoon?”

“Sweating like swine.”

“Ravishing,” he teases, shooing you off the suitcase, “head inside, mum’s absolutely itching to meet you.”

So you do. You can see her welcoming her children and their friends alike, and it fills you with the warmth of fresh gingerbread and the nerves of a teenage boy during school dance season.

“My dear!” she coos, arms outstretched even though a thin year of sweat coats every inch of your body, even though you’ve been wearing these clothes for a day, and even though you’re breathing heavy like a dog. She’s got her arms outstretched like you’re family.

“I’ve heard so much about you from Fred, and, goodness, you’re even prettier than he said you’d be!” —She gasps when he walks through the door, hauling your trunk in tow—“Don’t tell him I told you.”

“It’s been five minutes and you two are already sharing secrets about me. Only seven more days, Freddie,” he mumbles, setting the trunk down with a thud.

“Oh, well! It’s wonderful to finally meet you, dear, Ginny will show you to your room and lunch will be ready once you’re all settled!”

“Thank you, Mrs Weasley—”

“Oh, none of that, call me Molly.”

Your brows knit when she smiles at you so gently before making her way back to the kitchen.

“Thank you, Molly!”

Fred hops up from where he’d been relaxing on an armchair, clapping you on the arm with a reassuring smile.

“Everything processing alright up there?”

You nod.

“Peachy. Now give me a smile, you’re scaring me.”

You squint at him and pinch his arm, simpering when he hisses and swats your dry-gulching fingers away.

“That’ll do!”

“We’re up this way,” Ginny chirps as she rushes by and tugs you by the hand up the stairs.

Fred watches after you, rubbing his arm with a mean look on his face just before his playful resentment fades and his affections settle into the apples of his cheeks. This is going to be a long seven days.

…

Fred had never invited anyone to stay at the burrow. He preferred the company of his close family and whoever his mother deemed Weasley-enough herself. But he’d been saving this invitation. It stewed in the back of his mind for years before he mustered up the courage to offer it to you.

Ridiculous. That’s how it sounded in his head: ridiculous. If he wanted to ask you, he should have done it at the first chance. That’s what Fred would do. But he could never bring himself to get the words out whenever he swore to himself today would be the day. Because you’d just look at him with those damned doe eyes—you’d test his boundaries and make him all gushy inside—and it was like he was suddenly turned to a tongue-tied and pathetic halfwit.

And now here you are. An unofficial part of his family. But nevertheless a part of it. You’d found the annual Weasley strawberry-picking trip to be wonderful despite Fred pulling cheap pranks on you and the fact that it was basically sweltering outside. When you returned, you all spread out in the family room with bowls of the dewy berries in each of your laps. Everyone claimed a seat while you and Fred were forced to share the hardwood floor. You ended up tossing the small fruits into each other’s mouths with your legs laid across his thighs.

At one point, he lands one of the berries down your blouse. Almost immediately, he starts to laugh, clutching his chest while you gawk at him.

“You better start running, trouble.”

He gulps and scampers to his feet before scurrying out the front door. You take off after him, shouting curses into the wind when he rounds a corner.

You follow his footsteps but he’s nowhere to be seen.

“I swear, if I ever get my hands on you—”

He grabs your waist from behind you, dipping down to whisper in your ear. “You can put your hands on me whenever you’d like, sugarplum—”

“Merlin’s Beard, Fred! You scared the shit out of me!”

You jolt away, and he thinks you look genuinely angry this time. But he smiles and your features soften. Then you’re after him again, bounding into the tall grass with an uproar of laughter.

…

You spend the next few days of your vacation trying to beat Ron at chess then deciding it may be better if you and Harry team up to try and beat Ron at chess. You also take Ginny and Hermione shopping while the gaggle of boys trail behind the three of you grumbling and whining about missing their beloved Quidditch game.

You offer to help Molly with every meal, and she only accepts once you convince her your desserts are a crowd favorite back home. She’s proud to say she’s impressed, and she grows even prouder when you admit you adore big families like hers and see at least two kids of your own in your future.

Arthur takes a liking to you after you listen to him rave about the kind of items muggles use day-to-day and how fascinating their modern technology has become in recent years. He’s thrilled to find you actually take interest in his tinkering and collections and whatnot.

But most of all, you spend your time at the burrow with Fred. He steals you away after meals and keeps you up late to teach you his favorite charms. One overcurious evening finds you two perched together on the bathroom floor whispering and giggling while you brush a bold smokey-eye onto his eyelids. Let’s just say dinner that night was nothing short of hilarious: a look that Fred will never live down.

On the fifth morning, you jostle him awake. He whines about the sun not even being up yet while you drag him down the steps and shove your socked feet into an extra pair of rubber boots.

“What’s the bucket for?” he whispers, traipsing down the path along the side of the house when you stop dead in your tracks.

“Shh!” You press your gloved finger to his lips. A chorus of croaks erupts from the marsh beside the house. Nothing out of the ordinary for Fred, in fact that sound had often soothed him to sleep. But there’s a dangerous glint in your eye that tells him you’re on a mission.

“Can’t we do this when the sun is up? It’s cold and I’m tired—”

“The faster we catch ‘em, the faster we can go back to bed,” you whisper as your boot sinks into the edge of the muddy body of water. He sighs and sinks in next to you with his hands on his hips.

“I can’t believe you’ve convinced me to do this. You’re lucky you’re so pretty or you’d never get away with anything.”

You purse your lips and wade a little further out, looking out at the cooly rippling water beneath the sliver of sunrise.

“Yes, I would,” you say, quietly but so matter-of-fact he’s inclined to believe you.

Just then you spring into action, shoveling a small frog into your bucket with a victorious grunt. A few minutes later, he shuffled over to you and lowers his cupped palms into your bucket: three more frogs settle down into the center with a wet plop. You beam up at him, and it’s worth the early morning trouble to see you so happy and have you so close.

“So what do you plan on doing with these poor creatures once we’re done?”

You sit on the bank of the waterbed, sighing and setting the bucket beside you. He watches you from the water while you examine the small blob of darkness in the center of your palm. The bottom of the bucket is lined with croaking frogs, and the sun is well above the horizon, dousing the sky in soft pink and warm rose.

“I’m going to let them go.”

He lets out a sharp breath, hands falling to his sides, leaving streaks of mud down his tee shirt.

“You’re joking.”

You look up at him. You’re not joking.

“No,” he huffs. “You did not drag me out of my nice, warm bed to catch a million slimy frogs in the freezing cold dark just to let them go again.”

“Oh, but I did.” You’re crazy, he thinks. You’re crazy and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. Doesn’t make you any less crazy, though it might make him much less sane.

You set the frog down in the grass and leave the bucket tipped over. The small creatures immediately flood out from the splotchy tin opening into the newborn daylight and the crisp morning air. You stand and wipe your hands against each other a few times, scrunching your nose and finally meeting his eyes again.

“What’s wrong, trouble? Cat got your tongue?”

You grin.

“You know, one of these days, I’m going to say ‘no’ to you, and it’ll be a rude awakening.”

Fred walks past you like he’s really mad. Like it was an uncrossable line and you treated it like the tape at the end of a marathon. He’s hulking back towards the house when you grab his wrist to get his attention.

“What?”

But you don’t look sad. You don’t look pitiful or hurt. You look like you’re scheming, and it drives him crazy. As if he could ever say ‘no’ to you.

“You think I’m pretty,” you coo, batting your lashes just to get on his nerves. His breath hitches, and he feels warm despite the nipping cold of the morning.

“Unrelated.”

You drop his hand and cross your arms over your chest with a pout. He continues leisurely toward the burrow, tossing his gloves to the ground with a huff of hot air.

“Fred?” you call. And you sound worried, so he’s compelled to whip around. But when he does, he’s met with a rude awakening.

It was a misstep. A silly mistake, the wrong footing. Easily avoidable, and yet he didn’t avoid it. So he’s ass-first into a mud puddle with you shrieking in laughter about a meter away.

“You’re awful,” he grumbles, both hands propping him up and seeping into the thick mud as seconds tick by.

“I’m sorry! Freddie, I’m so sorry,” you cackle, taking a few steps toward him with tears of joy in your eyes. “But you should have seen your face!”

“Help me up,” he says, shaking his head and wiping his hand down his pajama pants before holding it outstretched to you. You grab it and tug enough to leverage him out of the muck. But he doesn’t budge. And in that moment, your eyes are filled with fear. Then, with one jolt, you topple down into the mud right beside him.

“Fred!”

“An eye for an eye, sugarplum.”

You push yourself up onto your hands to find your entire front is caked in mud, the mess narrowly avoiding your chin and above.

“You’re going to pay for that.”

“Oh, bring it on,” Fred teases.

You smirk just before a handful of mud is smeared across his chest by your slippery glove.

“Your move, trouble.”

He shakes his head and chuckles, looking down at the abstract art work fondly. But not quite fondly enough to hold himself back. His fingers dig into the puddle determinedly just before patting the top of your head with it like a stray dog. You squint your eyes closed and groan before peeking one eye open and coating his cheek in mud.

You make it to your feet and Fred hurls a ball of mud at your ass but he misses and it lands in the grass in front of you. You bolt around the back of the house, but he hurls a hunk towards your shoulder blade. You yelp and shout at him:

“You’re supposed to be a gentleman!”

“I’ll show you a gentleman, sweetheart,” he hollers it just before he catches up to you. You squeal and nearly slip on a slick patch of grass, but before you can leap out of his reach, he grabs your upper arm and presses you against the tree just behind your back.

“That’s not playing fair, Freddie, I’ve got nowhere to run,” you say, breathlessly grasping at the edge of his shirt with a tired smile. He chuckles and plants one palm against the bark beside your head, bringing the other hand to cup the side of your neck.

“You don’t need to run anywhere,” he mumbles, “just stay here.” The dried mud on the pad of his thumb draws a swipe of dirt down your cheek. Your fingers curl around his wrist and your lips part sweetly when he leans in.

“Time to come inside, you two! Breakfast is ready!”

Your eyes go wide when he leans his forehead against the tree with a grumbled curse.

“I suppose I am quite peckish!” you chirp, dragging him along behind you all the way to the front door. You leave your boots and gloves outside and brush some of the dried dirt from your pajamas.

You sit across from him at breakfast and catch him stealing glances at you every so often. With a mouth full of food, you wink at him with a dirt-smeared face and almost make him spit out his juice when you kick him under the table. George teases the two of you about wrestling in the mud while Molly scolds Fred about tracking it into the house.

…

Before long, you’re facing the final night of your stay. You’d been dreading the end since the beginning, and now that it’s here, you’re heartbroken. It’s been nothing but fun and you’ve never felt so wonderfully vulnerable with so many people around.

But the thing you’ll miss most is Fred. He could sense you pulling away the last couple of days. Trying to shield yourself from the impact of reality. No matter how hard he tried to cheer you up, he knew nothing could stop you thinking about how much packing up and leaving would hurt.

With your things splayed out across the floor of your temporary room, you had started packing hours ago but kept finding ways to distract yourself and avoid the idea of leaving altogether.

“Need any help?” Fred knocks on the doorframe, leaned against it and wearing the blue jumper you once told him he looked best in. You smile up at him from the floor.

“No,” you huff, “but some company would be nice.”

He perks up and shuffles around your belongings to plant himself on the edge of the bed. You had made the bed up nicely, tucked the duvet and set the pillows out nicely. He told you you didn’t have to, but you did it anyways.

After a few minutes of folding and refolding the same shirt, you stand from the floor and join him on the bed. He’s leaned back onto his elbows when he nudges your foot with his. You nudge him back but don’t turn to look at him. So he sits up and bumps you with his shoulder.

“I’m going to miss you,” he says, fussing with the edge of your shorts to distract himself, “Being here, I mean. As a part of our family.”

You smile down at his fiddling fingertips and inch closer, looking at him with this half-sad, half-happy look that has him confused and hopeless and head over heels and confused.

“I had a really, really nice time,” you whisper, leaning your head onto his shoulder and letting your eyes drift closed.

“So…”

You chuckle and smile to yourself, “So…?”

You sit up when the floor rattles a little, a thudding coming from the room below you. Then George shouts.

“Get it over with already!”

You both look at each other and giggle. Fred leans back again and you watch him tilt his head back and let out a sigh. His chest rises and falls beneath that damned blue sweater, and you trace your fingertips over his knuckles. He lifts his head and smiles cheekily at you, like he knows what’s going on inside your head. Like he has any idea. And for once, you think he might be pretty close.

You practically tackle him to the bed, smiling against his mouth when he cradles your face in one hand and rests the other on your waist where your shirt had ridden up from the ruckus.

You pepper soft kisses over his blushing face, leaving faintly glossy lip prints on his cheeks and nose and forehead and a stray one on the column of his neck. He goes slack against the bed, satisfied and content and happy all because of you. But still, he lazily opens his eyes and grins mischievously and says:

“Took you long enough.”

You smack your hand against his chest just hard enough to warn him.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Weasley.”

He cups your hand against his warm chest and his smile ebbs from mischief to something not as easily recognized. Something that makes him shy and pink thanks to the girl who likes the freckles across the bridge of his nose in the summer and his hands even when they’re covered in mud. Love that makes him much less sane for the girl who might just be crazy for loving him back.

And all of it makes him hold your hand and lean up to kiss you one more time.

masterlist

[kjupchurch-xx]

Conflicting Feelings Part Four

I smirked, "Toxic in a sexy way, huh?" I teased.

He bit his lip, "You don't think so, love?" He asked, trying to keep his face as serious as possible. 

I looked at him, in the bed beside me, only wearing his Calvin Klein boxer briefs, my hand still resting on his chest. "I happen to think you're sexy in other ways." 

He tilted his head at me, "Oh?" He asked curiously, raising his brow in my direction. 

I nodded enthusiastically, "I think you're really sexy when you make me food." I said sarcastically.

He giggled, "That's not where I thought this was going." 

I propped myself up on my elbows beside him, "Where exactly did you think this was going?" 

He chuckled, "You really want to play innocent, don't you?" He asking jokingly.

I smirked, "Would it really be that fun if I didn't?" I said while tapping my chin causing him to laugh. 

He glanced at my cleavage before glancing back up to face me, "You're going to act like you didn't purposely wear that top?" 

I shook my head, "This wasn't for you. I packed light." I said matter of factly causing him to snicker. 

He glanced over to the side of the dresser noticing that I did in fact not pack light, nor had I ever for literally anything and laughed, "You're something else." He said, bringing my hand up and kissing my knuckles lightly. 

His phone began buzzing again, he grabbed it, answering it on speaker phone. Ryan's voice immediately filled the room, "YOU DIRTY DOG!" He shouted trying to contain his laughter causing Hugh and I to look at each other and begin dying laughing. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, mate." Hugh said bluntly. 

"You don't know what I'm talking about mate, my fucking ass, Jackman!" Ryan yelled, in an awful attempt at an Australian accent. 

"Blake said she was busy." Hugh snickered back.

Ryan failed at containing his laughter, "I'm not mad at you. Get your dick sucked and call me later. Tell her I said g'day." 

"Bye, Ryan." I said giggling, cutting Hugh off as he went to speak before ending the call. 

I grabbed my own phone, noticing my followers tripling as I noticed he tagged me in his post on his Instagram. He pushed at my hand that was holding my phone, putting on his best pouty face, "Put your phone down and kiss me." 

I giggled, "Will you stop making that god awful face if I do?" I said while sitting my phone on the bedside table. 

He shrugged, "It depends on how good of a kisser you are." He joked, making the pouty face more dramatic. 

I playfully rolled my eyes, "I hate you. Come here." I said as I pulled him over towards me, locking my lips on his as I grabbed both sides of his face, holding it in place. 

His hands found their way to my hips as he pulled me on top of him, continuing to kiss me as I sat on his hips. He slowly removed his lips from mine, "You're an incredible kisser." He said before locking his lips back on mine as I deepened the kiss. I could feel his excitement beneath me growing, but everything suddenly came to an end as my phone began ringing. 

I moaned annoyingly, reaching over to grab it. My mouth dropped as I saw the name "Debbora-Lee" pop up on my phone. This was about to get interesting... "Who is it? What's wrong, love?" Hugh asked. 

I turned my phone around for him to see, "Oh, fuck. Just don't answer it." He said sternly.

Why should I not answer it? Is she mad about the Instagram post? Was she not just sitting with another man on her own Instagram? I decided to ignore Hugh's wishes and answer, bracing myself for impact. Deb never had an issue with me. She had her suspicions, but she could be a jealous person from time to time. For example - He was never allowed to make a movie with Angelina Jolie. 

"Hello?" I answered, trying to sound as nice and normal as possible. I knew she'd seen the picture. It was making waves online. 

She wasn't having it. "What do you think you're doing?" She asked with a hint of attitude in her voice.

I sighed, "What are you referring to, Debbora-Lee? I'm sitting in bed, at my hotel room." 

Hugh looked at me, clearly annoyed I didn't listen and answered the phone. She began raising her voice at me, "Yeah? In bed with my husband?!" 

I chuckled, "So we're just going to act like you're not also with someone?" I asked, amusement dripping from my voice. 

"That is my friend! Nothing more! You've been in love with my husband for years! Don't play stupid!" She yelled. 

I rolled my eyes, "First off, why in the fuck are you calling me? Maybe if you actually acted like you gave a shit about your husband, he wouldn't have confided in me so much. But where were you? You obviously were too busy when his dad died, which ended in me having to go to England to deal with shit you should've been dealing with! But where the fuck were you?!" 

She sat silenced.  "I mean fuck, you told Hugh it was the dogs. You told me it was the kids. Whose dick were you too busy riding? I mean seriously. Don't act so fucking innocent, Debbora. I should've ripped your ass in half in England, but your husband saved your ass." I spat back. 

She chuckled, "You don't know what you're talking about, you dumb bitch!"

Hugh finally spoke up, cutting us both off, "Okay, let's stop. Deb, she did nothing wrong. If you're out living your life, I'm going to live mine. What do you want from me? Do you expect me to sit and beg for you to come back home?" He asked, a bit annoyed and feeling somewhat defeated. 

She no longer wanted him, but she didn't want him to want others. She expected him to bend over backwards for her like he'd had for 27 years. 

Deb's voice softened, "No Hugh, I don't. I'm just pissed you're with her. She's spent years around our family and now she's your little girlfriend. Do you not realize she isn't but two years older than our son?"

"She's not my little girlfriend, Deb." He said nonchalantly. 

So all of the last 24 hours have been what exactly? A hot young rebound? His words shook me to my core. He noticed and told Deb they would speak later and to not call me anymore. As he hung up my phone, he looked over at me, "Listen-"

I cut him off, putting my hand over is mouth. "I'm good. We're friends, right? Friends don't sleep in other friend's beds, so feel free to find your way to the sofa or get your own room. Either way, I'm going to sleep." I said coldly. 

"Babe-" He tried to interject, grabbing my arm. 

I jerked it away, "I'm done talking about this. Look, I'm tired. I want to go to sleep. I don't want to hear anything else." I said, raising my voice. 

"Will you please just fucking listen to me?" He said, becoming annoyed. 

I shook my head, "There's nothing to listen to. Get the fuck out of my bed and let me go to sleep. I'm literally begging you at this point."  I got up, grabbing the blanket, "Fuck it. I'll go to sleep on the sofa." 

He grabbed my arm again, getting up from the bed, blocking me. "Why are you acting like this?" He asked. 

I shrugged, "I don't know, Hugh. But I'm getting really fucking tired of cleaning up your and her bullshit. I'm tired of always running to fucking fix you after she's hurt your feelings for the millionth fucking time all to watch you fall right back into her and her magical vagina or whatever the fuck she has that keeps you running back." 

He rolled his eyes, "I never said I was going back to her. I told her we'd talk later to end the conversation." 

I chuckled dryly, "Why? So you could spend more time with me? I'm not your girlfriend, remember? I'm just some sleazy ass rebound so you can get your dick wet for the first time in a year. Do not play me like I'm fucking stupid!" I screamed as I tried to get past him. 

He grabbed my hands tightly, "I'm not trying to play you like you're stupid, love. You're not a rebound. If you were a rebound, I would've had a go at you last night or I would've tried to make a move when we were alone in England in bed together." 

I stood, looking everywhere but him as he continued, "You are my best friend. I mean motherfucker, you've watched me cry like a bloody baby. I would never do anything to hurt you, love. This is why I told you to ignore her when she rang you. You get so in your head and you let others get into your head. Had she not rang, would you be acting like this?" 

I slowly shook my head, still refusing to look at him, "No, I'm just tired of this shit."

He sighed, "Can I hug you?" 

I nodded, "I told you, I'm yours. The only reason I didn't tell her that was because I was tired of hearing her bullshit. I wanted off the phone, I wanted you off the phone. You said we should lay low for a bit, so no, I was not going to tell her about this." 

I sighed, "You're not wrong. I mean, I understand why. I guess I'm just scared of getting hurt." I said, looking up to face him as he pulled me into a hug. 

He stroked my hair, "Love, I wouldn't ever hurt you. You know I wouldn't. Stop letting her get into your head. She's bitter and probably hurt. I don't think she ever truly thought I'd move on. And you know how she is, you know she's going to say whatever it takes to get under your skin." 

He wasn't wrong. I've known them for years. If she's mad, everyone knows it and she makes sure of it. Even if he has to completely pull something out of her ass just to upset someone, she doesn't hesitate. 

He looked at me as I looked up to him, "Please come back to bed with me." He asked, almost pleading with me. 

I gave him a half-smile, "Fine..." I walked back towards the bed, pulling his arm to come with me as we collapsed beside one another. I climbed back on top of him, "Now, where were we?" I asked, smirking. 

He giggled, "Were you not just accusing me of using you as a rebound and now you're on top of me?" 

I shrugged, "I don't know. Wasn't me. Must've been Patricia." I said channeling my inner Split. If you've never seen Split, it's the dude with multiple personalities. Patricia being one. 

He laughed, "Yeah? Let's bring the regular version out please. Patricia's depressing." He joked. 

"Really? Damn, I guess I know who to not call when I'm having a bad day." I said sarcastically. 

He smirked, "Oh, stop it." He said as he leaned upwards kissing me. "I thought you were going to bed." He said.

I leaned down to whisper in his ear, "I was, but I'm just going to be honest, I felt your boner earlier and I'm kinda curious." 

He erupted in laughter, blushing, "Really?" 

I nodded, "Hugh, Huge, whatever your name is. I can see why. 100%." I tried to keep my face straight but was failing. 

He chuckled, "You know, I started that rumor. So do with that information what you will." 

I snickered, "Can I at least see it?" 

He looked at me wide eyed, "Are you-are you seriously asking me this right now?" He tried to stop chuckling as he began turning red. 

I shrugged, "One little peak."

He laughed, "Can you go to bed?" 

I smirked, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." 

He playfully pushed me off of him, "What are you? 5?" 

I bit my bottom lip, "6 actually, now can I please see your penis?" 

He threw a pillow at me, "Not when you say it like that, you absolutely cannot." 

I fake pouted, "I offered to show you mine." 

He shook his head, "I don't think I want to see your penis." 

"Goodnight Hugh, I do not have a penis, thank you very much. Except the one in my suitcase. But I would've shown you something you would've really liked and now that's not happening." I said, while laughing, losing whatever composure I was holding onto. 

I rolled over with my back facing him. I felt him snake his arms around me, trailing light kisses down my exposed neck to my shoulder. 

"Are you sure you want to do this? Just 15 minutes ago you thought you were my rebound. I don't want you to get that idea." His voice now serious while stopping the kisses. 

I sighed, "I know I'm not a rebound for you. I was just hurt and she pissed me off."

 He softly kissed my shoulder, "Okay, but if at any point, you want to stop or if you start feeling that way, I want you to tell me..." He said reassuringly. 

I nodded, "I will. Promise." 

[emeritusemeritus]

omg! saw your requests opening, glad to see you writing and I’ve read nearly all of your works! your writing style and fics inspired me to write more and motivate me so I thank thee for that!

i didn’t know if I would be able to request something like this, but you be willing to write something for both of the Weasley twins? you come home from a bad day, it was absolutely horrendous and overwhelming and you just want to forget about it. would you be able to write both of the Weasley twins willing to blow their mind away in bed to try to make them forget about their day? 🙌

Hi lovely Anon! Thank you so much for your kind words, I’m so glad I could inspire you to write more, I’d love to read your work! I hope it’s okay that I added a little Christmas twist. Hope you enjoy! P.s. my own personal headcanon is that Angelina would become a healer after hogwarts, so I made the reader a healer too🖤

Warnings: where do I start… smut, pinv sex, graphic smut, oral (both), fingering, masturbation, slight sub/dom elements, rough sex, overstimulation. Threesomes (no twincest) Readers feeling a bit of a grinch. Healer reader. Christmas stress. Can you tell I’ve worked retail with how much I hate Christmas crowds. Not spellchecker nor beta read.

Word count: 6.7k (some of it is plot I swear)

Fairytale of Diagon Alley

You were turning into the Grinch.

It appeared that when you had kissed your boyfriend's goodbye this morning upon leaving your shared flat above the shop, you had also kissed goodbye to your good mood and any semblance of patience you had left.

There were people everywhere, the whole street of Diagon Alley was packed with frantic christmas shoppers wanting those last minute bargains, forgetting all of their manners and regular etiquette as their heads filled with 'what to get little Timmy' and how Flourish and Botts hadn't even started their sales yet, Godric forbid.

You pushed through the brainless crowds, cringing at the attention you were receiving having walked out of the closed store, protests of unfairness echoing through the street as if you were some VIP patron with early access before the store had opened.   The line of people waiting for Wheezes to open was eye watering and you felt a complex mixture of happiness and sadness for your boyfriends knowing that they would have such a busy day once again, though business would be booming and they'd inevitably make a killing. They'd been exhausted these last few weeks, working extra hours to accommodate the expanse of people whilst importing more stock than ever to see them through peak trade. They'd started the sale two days ago, an offer of buy 3 get 1 free that had skyrocketed sales and had plunged through their stock even quicker than expended, leading to more light nights spent dealing with manufacturers and suppliers to rush through more orders. They did it all with a smile, so warm and welcoming to each customer that it filled you with awe seeing them, knowing that they were running on very little sleep.

You simply huddled down, pulling your coat tighter against your collar to ward off the biting cold and pushed through the crowds with facetious attempts of politeness as you muttered excuse me repeatedly , trying to make your way out of the crowded street. Christmas music was blaring out from the cafe at the top of the street and you cringed as you walked past, the volume almost deafening.

It didn't cheer you, not today. You were just overwhelmed by the amount of people, overstimulated by the ridiculous noise of the music and the constant chatter around you as you were just trying to make your way to work for what you knew would almost certainly be another dreadful day.

You paused outside the entrance to the abandoned looking department store Purge and Dowse Ltd, heaving a heavy sigh to prepare you for the day, having successfully made it through the crowds... eventually. You loved your job usually, but something about Christmas time just seemed to make people more stupid, less careful and much more irate.

The welcome witch was unpleasant as ever as you stepped into the entrance of the building, seeing a bustling waiting room of people with various maladies and injuries that were certain to keep you on your toes today.

"St Mungo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries," the receptionist Barbara welcomed the next person waiting to be booked in, her usual overly-cheery voice ringing out along the corridor, pausing her speech to wave at you warmly as you walked past. Her hair was transfigured into a Christmas tree shape though it was leaning at the top with tinsel wrapped around for good measure and a couple of illuminated lights in her hair that were flickering on and off in an uneven pattern, which you noticed she kept trying to fix with her wand though she was largely unsuccessful.

"Ready for another fun day?" Angelina asks sarcastically as you change into your uniform, casting the usual enchantments upon the regulated clothes to protect them from all manner of horrors. Knowing that you don't have to hide your real emotions from Angelina, you sigh and let out a long whinge, resting your head dramatically on her shoulder. She laughs whilst stroking your hair, the two of you sharing a moment together as you prepare for the day, enormously thankful that at least your best friend would be on the same shift as you today, both of you successful in following your calling to become a healer.

"Just think, 12 hours to go and you'll be back fighting your way back to the flat through the Christmas crowds!"

The whinge that fell from your lips was louder and longer than the first and held nothing back of how you truly felt.

Angelina didn't need to be part seer to foresee the future but she sure got it right in predicting with almost perfect accuracy the horror of Diagon Alley upon your return. If anything, she had downplayed the horror of your return as it seemed even busier than this morning, with people covering almost every square inch of the cobbled street. You briefly wondered if everyone stood on a singular cobble, if there'd be any room at all for more people.

Children were squealing with excitement, some crying at the top of their lungs about being denied early gifts. Three boys in the corner near Fortescue's had found a small patch of untouched snow and were crafting snowballs to throw at each other though their sense of aim was way off and had instead found it much more enjoyable to cast the snowballs into the crowd to hit unsuspecting shoppers who most appeared indifferent to the attacks, probably not even noticing.

It was sheer mayhem and all you could think of was getting home, taking a bath and soaking away the stresses of your very long day. It had been none stop from the second you arrived on the ward, with new challenges and issues that often rendered you speechless. You were beyond stressed and weary, the long days and the disregulation of routine completely throwing you off. You'd barely spent any time with your boyfriends these past weeks, even after they'd employed temporary staff over the busy period. The flat was increasing in mess and clutter everyday and you found yourself caring less everyday, completely void of motivation. Presents needed to be wrapped, some still left to be bought, Christmas cards to be written, food to be ordered and collected. You needed to confirm with Molly what time you'd be arriving on Christmas Eve, the plan on everyone staying at the Burrow in their old bedrooms ready for a big family Christmas seeming more and more welcoming with each passing day as you craved simpler times, away from the stresses of an adult Christmas. You lamented the days at Hogwarts when everything was easy, when it was just you, the twins and your friends around a perfectly elf-prepared Christmas dinner with gifts that were more gestures of love before money and being an adult ruined everything.

Your feet were hurting, you were exhausted, you were sick of fighting through crowds morning and night each time you left the flat. You needed to sort the Floo network but each and every time you resolved yourself to asking Fred to have a look, you'd see him walk in exhausted and the request would fall from your lips upon seeing the deepening purple bags under his eyes. You didn't know the first thing about floo networks or where to even start on fixing it or asking someone to look so you left it alone, the entire thought process dropping from your mind the second you were home every time without fail until you were faced with the unpleasant crowd once again.

The sights and sounds of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes flooded out into the dark street like a lighthouse at sea, the bacon of light that guided you home. As overwhelmingly pleased as you were to see it in all its glory, knowing you were so close to being home you were also a little downtrodden at the sight of so many people still out shopping. The closer you got, you could see George on the third floor near the explosives section, helping yet another customer with their purchases as he pointed out various whizzbangs on the wall between Fred's blaze box and George's compendium box of pyrotechtrix. You couldn't see Fred anywhere but you could spot Verity through the window looking frazzled at the till. You snook around the back and let yourself in with the appropriate charms, begrudgingly taking each painful step up the back staircase near the storeroom to make your way to the flat, the noise and the bustle from the shop falling silent as soon as the door was closed.

You sighed in relief as you toed off your shoes and hung up your bag and coat, suddenly overwhelmed by the sheer number of layers that you were wearing as you frantically unwrapped your scarf and tugged off your hat with very little care of what your hair looked like underneath. You wanted to make a cup of tea but couldn't even muster the energy even with magic and so you walked straight to the bathroom and began running a bath, ignoring any messes you could see along the way.

You pulled off your clothes with determination, desperate to rid yourself of the day and soak in the bath full of bubbles. The bath was huge, one of the many benefits of being in love with two very tall men who had both insisted on a bathtub that could accommodate their whole bodies without question.

You lit a candle and placed it on the windowsill to illuminate the room, praying that the outline of your naked figure couldn't be seen by all of Diagon Alley.

Slipping into the hot bath felt like heaven. Your skin was pleasantly tingling from the warmth and you felt your eyes closing instinctively as you head tilted back to rest on the edge of the tub. You felt soothed, both in body and soul as you sank deeper into the water, finally finding peace in your day.

You don't know how long you are lay there floating somewhere between relaxed and dozing until you heard a gentle knock on the bathroom door.

"Well this is a welcomed sight," you hear George say as he steps into the bathroom after you'd told him to enter. He looks tired but happy, his eyes roaming over you in the bath, no doubt trying to see exactly how much of your body was covered by the bubbles. You smile, holding your hand out for him to take as you look up to him with heavy eyes.

"You should have joined me," you smile, knowing that it wouldn't have even been an option, but it was nice to think of.

"I'd have burned down the shop to have jumped in there with you," he says with a deep chuckle, perching on the side of the tub with you, his hand still holding yours.

"You're going to get wet," you say as a soft warning, eyes roaming over his work suit.

"Don't care," he replies quickly, his other hand scooping up some of the extra bubbles, eyes lighting up with mischief as he suddenly blows the bubbles back towards you. You squeal seeing the bubbles flying towards your face and flail slightly to get your face away from the incoming bubbles as George laughs.

"Hello ladies," George smirks, staring at your breasts as they become exposed by your flailing, the bubbles no longer concealing you. Your eyes widen and you scramble to cover your chest with your arms instinctively.

"Angel," he says, one brow slightly raising as he reaches to stroke your concealing arm, gently beginning to pull it away from you, though his touch is gentle enough for you to keep it there if you're uncomfortable. "I've been looking at these pretty tits for years, don't go shy on me now."

With the look in his eye and his smooth voice, you're helpless to resist and pull your arm away from your body with a slight bite of your lip. Seeing his eyes feast upon your exposed chest is instantly arousing, your naked form so vulnerable to his fully clothed self. The mood in the small room has shifted almost instantly, the calm and peaceful atmosphere now filled with a need, the tension between you both so overwhelming. His eyes are half lidded but it's no longer from tiredness as he looks up to your eyes again, pausing as if he's considering his next move before he leans forward, capturing your lips in a dangerously loaded kiss. You want to reach out for him, to run your fingers through his hair and pull him closer to you by his tie but you're wet through and you'd inevitably soak his favourite suit.

"George! Where are you, you're needed out here!" You hear Fred calling up the stairs and pull apart, a quiet sigh of disappointment falling from your lips as your shoulders sink like a deflated balloons. George growls as he pulls away, his head resting on yours with his eyes still closed, evidently we wound up and frustrated as you by the sudden interruption.

"Hold that thought baby okay? 30 minutes and we're all yours, I want you right here when I'm done."

With one last smirk and a delicate kiss placed upon your forehead, George steps out of the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

You throw your head back onto the side of the tub in frustration, arousal swirling through your body with no outlet now to relieve that need. The thought of having to wait for at least another half an hour was killing you but there was nothing you could do about it.

You tried to stay in the bath just as George had requested but you found yourself growing cold even after enchanting the water back up to the warmth of before once again but you were no longer relaxed, unable to find that sense of peace. You were too wound up, too aware of your naked body, the hardening of your nipples and the ache between your thighs that seemed to be calling out to you for relief.

You heaved yourself out of the bath with a frustrated groan, not even sure what you were annoyed at. Before George had walked in you'd been perfectly content to just lie there and put your day behind you. If Fred hadn't had called out for him, if the shop wasn't open so bloody late, if the customers would just go home. You were spiralling but didn't care, for once you just wanted the night to go how you wanted it to go, for your needs to be met and to come first for a change. Groping for the towel, you quickly dried yourself off and walked into the bedroom, cursing Merlin under your breath at the state of the room. Wardrobe doors left open with various ties scattered around as if someone had been looking for a specific one this morning and simply discarded all the rest. Your pyjamas from last night were thrown in a pile in the corner of the room, the bed wasn't made and various pieces of clutter decorated the vanity that had become a dumping ground for all three of you. You cursed again when you stepped on the corner of a pin badge, one of the many iconic 'W' badges that your husbands wore in the shop discarded on the floor. You reached for your wand and cast numerous cleaning charms, not even caring on how they would clash, just praying that they would sort out the room.

You threw on your comfiest, baggiest clothes and threw the towel towards the rough direction of the bathroom, watching briefly as it got caught up in the crossfire of the charms you'd used.

Gone were the thoughts of a quiet night or any hope of some stress relief fucking that you'd so desperately needed. Apparently your lack of sexual relief had caused you to become increasingly frustrated and short, your lip fixed into a near permanent pout as you sulked about your day. You wouldn't entertain ideas of making dinner, despite your stomachs grumbling protest and opted instead to flip down onto the sofa, pull out your book and ignore the rest of the world- especially the 'Christmas to do list' that lay infront of you almost mockingly on the coffee table.

"You were meant to be in the bath sweet girl," George says as both he and Fred entered the flat after close. Your eyes flicker up to the clock on the wall and saw that it had not been thirty minutes as promised but instead it had taken nearly double that for George to get back to you. You don't reply, only offering a noncommittal shrug as you fix your eyes back to your book, rereading the same sentence for the third time.

"Hey princess, good day?" Fred asks as he throws himself down onto the sofa beside you, arm immediately reaching across the back to where his fingers reach out to run your shoulder.

"Busy."

"Tell me about it," Fred answers, reaching up with his spare hand to undo his top button and loosen his tie, missing the true meaning of your words completely. "So what's for tea?"

You slam your book down onto the coffee table and march off towards the bedroom without a single word, barely holding in your groan of annoyance at his lack of sensitivity. It wasn't just down to you to think about meals all the time, to do the bloody shopping and start preparing a meal when you'd already worked twelve hours, having to fight through the stupid crowds morning noon and night just to go about your day. You knew they'd had a long day too but it didn't trump yours, didn't mean that they automatically got a pass from adulting because they'd been working hard because you had too.

"Angel?"

You rolled your eyes, knowing what was coming. You didn't answer, hoping that George would just go away. You didn't want sensitivity or broken promises right now, you didn't really know what you wanted but you knew that if George came in here to try and reason with you, you'd go mad.

The second he slips through the door, you know that you'd gotten it very wrong. He wasn't coming to reconcile or to ask you what was wrong to fix the issue, instead his eyes told a completely other story.

"Where did my sweet girl go?" He says, eyes fixed hard as he looks at you, suddenly seeming to be even taller than you pictured. "I kept you waiting too long."

You don't reply, knowing that you'd only say something that you'd later regret.

"I agree it was mean of me, getting you all worked up and leaving you like that, so beautiful and needy."

He knew exactly what he was doing, and unfortunately for your pride, it was working.

He moves closer to you now, his firm towering over you as you sit on the edge of the bed where you'd slumped down, neck craned to stare up at him with a look that is softening more with every passing second.

"But there question is," he says as he squats down in front of you, your eyes lining up once again as you threaten to cower under his blazing eyes and dangerous smirk. "How needy are you?"

You can't help it, your chest heaves at the very same time you have to swallow down your nervous energy, altering George to how well his words were affecting you.

"That bad huh?" You don't know if you want to slap or kiss that smirk off his smug face but all you know is that the fire from earlier had been reignited in the most sinful way possible.

"You think Freddie could help with that too?"

At the very mention of your other boyfriend, you feel your eyes widen slightly with the sudden influx of sinful possibilities crossing your mind, your need and arousal doubling as you fight the need to squirm under his forceful gaze. You nod gently, hardly daring to look away from his mesmerising eyes, your breathing rapidly increasing though it's shallow breaths only.

"You need us to fuck away your day sweetheart?" A second voice says from the side, alerting you to the presence of your other love, his eyes just as fiery as his words. You nod again, biting your lip under the scrutiny of them both.

"Words princess," Fred warns, eyes dark as he prowls over to you.

"Please," you say as if on command, submitting to them so willingly that it's almost alarming.

Their smirks are completely identical as they briefly share a look before turning back to you, stalking closer and capturing you in their arms. George attacks your lips again, his tongue snaking around your lips before mingling with yours in a sinful battle of dominance that he inevitably wins. Fred's lips attack your neck as he joins you on the bed, hands snaking around your waist and up to your breasts where he cups and squeezes with just enough pressure that you gasp onto George's lips. Your hips begin to cant on their own accord, too aroused for you to remain stationary as their hands begin to wander. George's hands replace Fred's on your breasts, his favourite place to play on the wonderland of your body whilst Fred's begin to stroke across your legs, caressing your thighs through your baggy clothes that you deeply regretted wearing.

George pulls away from your lips and tits for only a second as he rips your oversized shirt over your head, leaving your tits exposed to him once again. His eyes glaze over as he looks at your bountiful flesh, his eyes tracing the curves of your body and fixating upon your rosy nipples, so hard and aching for his mouth. You cry out when you feel Fred's big hands snaking around your waist and reaching to cup your breasts, squeezing them together and raising them up for George to take into his mouth, his full lips wrapping around your bud as his tongue pokes out to circle it seductively.

"I want you naked beautiful girl," Fred whispers in your ear, his right hand beginning to toy with the waistband of your sweatpants, long fingers edging closer to your heated core with every stroke.

"Please."

George pulls away from your breasts once again and gives you a devilish smirk as his fingers reach into the top of your waist band whilst Fred pulls you back to recline on him as he slips behind you on the bed. They share a brief look of utter mischief before George rips your sweatpants away from your body leaving you completely exposed to their eyes.

Your legs squeeze together as you look between the three of you, seeing them both still fully dressed in their suits with you wearing nothing but a smile between them, like the prey and the predators together.

Fred's lips trace the lines of your ear down to your neck and your chest rises, back arching in pleasure which seems to welcome George back to caressing your tits, his mouth latching back onto the hardened buds. He breaks away from sucking on your nipples to press a line of kisses up the column of your throat until he captured your lips in a blazing kiss once again, his hands caressing your breasts now instead of his mouth.

"Don't know about you mate, I reckon she's soaking wet for us," Fred says to George almost mockingly, as if you're not lay between them.

"Oh I know she is mate," George says as he pulls away, casting a cursory glance over at you before replying to his twin, "I can see that little pussy glistening from here."

"Ah ah ah," Fred warns with a firm grip of your thigh as your legs squeeze together to offer any relief you can find as their words catapult you towards dangerous levels of arousal.

"That was naughty," George chastises, one single finger on his right hand now trailing down the length of your body towards your core, teasing you.

"Will you be our good girl tonight?" Fred asks in your ear, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through you.

"I'll be your good girl," you say breathlessly, needing more than what you were getting.

"Then prove it," George says, standing up in front of you and undoing his belt. You watch with rapt attention as he undoes the belt, looping it out of his trousers and throwing it off to the side, nimble fingers undoing the buttons on his tweed trousers and dragging down the zip.

Your mouth waters when you watch him reach into his underwear and pull out his hard cock, already so swollen and throbbing. You force yourself to look away from the delicious sight, up into his eyes to look for his consent, seeing his eyes dark and predatory.

He holds out his cock towards you, gripping it hard in his big hands by the base, offering it for you to take. You waste no time, slipping out of Fred's grasp to crawl forwards on the bed so that your face as near perfectly aligned with your reward. You kick a tentative stripe up from the bottom of his cock towards the tip, circling the bulbous tip and moaning when you taste the faint salty liquid already leaking from his little hole. You lap it up greedily, allowing his cock to rest on your flat tongue as your lips wrap around the entire head before giving him a long and deliberate suck. The growl that you pull from his lips only makes you want to do better, to suck his harder and take him deeper. You allow your mouth to fill with saliva, knowing how sloppy he likes it, how he likes you messy. You push him deeper into your mouth, tongue working over the sensitive veins and ridges until you open your eyes, looking up at him with big, wide eyes that you know he can't resist. His mouth is open, face contorted into pure pleasure as he pants, nose scrunched up as he watches you pleasure him. He pulls away his hand now, knowing that you can take more of his length and his now free hand reaches out to stroke your hair in a way that shows his love for you even in his dominant state.

You take him deeper still, fighting off the urge to choke as you slip him into his throat, immediately rewarded by the most delicious moans and gasps from above, his hand slipping into your hair to gather it. He doesn't force you nor guide your movements but simply holds back your hair in a way that forces you to know that he holds the power here.

Fred, who had been stroking your body as you gag on his twins cock suddenly sits up, unbuckling his own belt as he moves towards you, no longer content just to sit there and watch.

You're acutely aware of your nakedness between the two men who are still fully dressed and suddenly have a desperate urge for them to be just as naked as you, to see their perfect bodies taking yours. Defying their usual expectations, you take it upon yourself to reach out for Fred's trousers, giving a slightly pull trying to silently communicate your needs whilst still pleasuring George.

"Think our girl wants something," Fred says, the smugness in his voice allowing you to almost hear the smirk upon his face.

George's fingers tap gently on your chin and you look up at him as you pull off of his cock with a resounding 'pop', his whole body fighting off a shiver of arousal.

"What does our princess want?" George says, the dominant edge to his voice almost mocking you.

You don't answer verbally, your hands reaching up to fumble with the buttons on his waist coat, wanting his naked. He's still wearing his full suit, jacket and all except for the long cock hanging free from his unbuckled trousers. Fred's equally as clothed only without his suit jacket, sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

"You want us just as naked as you sweetheart?" Fred murmurs in your ear, hands wandering again.

"Please," you say sounding desperate, "want to see your bodies as you fuck me."

"Merlin," Fred curses behind you. George's fingers instantly hook under your chin to force you to look at him and he leans down to place a blazing kiss upon your lips with so much force that it knocks you backwards, your words clearly affecting him too.

You can hardly believe your luck when as you get to watch them undress, having a moment of confused sentimentality that this was your life, that only you were in this position. They were so similar and yet so different, even as they undressed. You watched transfixed as their braces were pulled off their bodies, shirts quickly unbuttoned by long fingers and trousers pulled down their long legs until they were bare.

"Is that better sweet girl?" George mocks, moving to stand in front of you. Fred slips back behind you on the bed, maneuvering you so that he can slide in. You can feel the prominent bulge of his erection as his rests on your hip and you fight to control the urge to squeeze your legs again, feeling largely untouched. "Now because you've been so good."

"Lean back on me darling," Fred coos in your ear, handling you backwards until you're resting against his chest, head thrown back onto his shoulder.

"Let me make you feel good."

His hands slip down over your breasts, his fingers reigniting the hardness in your nipples as his gorgoeus, veiny hands cup and squeeze your supple flesh. His fingers trail down your chest and across your tummy making you squirm, hips raising on their own accord as his fingers trail down towards your dripping core.

You gasp when you feel his fingers dip lower, legs spreading wide as you allow him access. He strokes over your outer lips, barely ghosting your pussy as he teases, touching your thighs, your outerlips- simply anywhere except where you need him.

When his finger suddenly dips within your folds, collecting the juices that are freely flowing from you and beginning to draw a line right up to your throbbing clit. You cry out as he makes contact with your clip, back arching at the pleasure as he begins to circle it slowly, knowing just how you like it.

Your eyes open and you gasp seeing George sitting directly infront of you, his hand wrapped around his cock as he slowly strokes himself, eyes fixed upon your spread pussy as Fred works his magic.

You're close to the edge already, aching for it, the teasing already too drawn out. Fred senses it right away as your breath catches in your throat, hips canting as you fight back the urge and stops his ministrations. You whine at the sudden loss of contact but stop when you feel his hands on your hip.

"You need my cock darling? I'm aching for you."

"Please Freddie," you gasp, rubbing your ass against his throbbing cock, desperate to have him inside of you.

"Up baby," he instructs, tapping your hip as he kisses your cheek. You lift your hips and Fred scoots down a little, lying flat but propped up on the pillow. He reaches down and holds up his cock for you. You stay facing away from him, lying on top whilst holding your weight on your hands as you align yourself with his gorgeous length.

You can hardly contain the moans as his tip begins to penetrate you, the tip slipping in easily with the wetness between your legs. You're breathless as you push his cock further into you, slipping down until you were taking almost every inch of his cock. He's moaning and breathing heavily underneath you as he keeps a firm hold of your hips to guide you, picking you up slightly only to bring you down a second time, his entire length inside of you. You cry out in perfect synchronisation with Fred as you begin riding his cock hard, bouncing up and down in his lap.

You feel sexy, empowered and yet submissive being so spread out and naked, completely open for George's view as he sits with his cock in his hand almost drooling as he watches you get fucked.

Fred's grip is almost bruising but it only serves as a reminder of his control over you, even if you are the one on top as he stops your hips bouncing, choosing instead to pound you from below as he keeps you still, the feel of his cock overwhelming. He bares the brunt of your weight as he forced you to lean on his chest instead of your hands. His thrusts are forceful and powerful with perfect aim as your head falls back from the overwhelming pleasure, your moans and cries unable to be contained.

You whine as you feel George join you on the bed, his hands grabbing hold of your thighs as he attempts to hold some of your weight whilst keeping you spread open for them. His lips find your clit from above, tongue running over that swollen little nub, latching on giving sharp, quick sucks. You're completely done for, the pleasure taking over your entire body.

Your walls are squeezing Fred who's moaning out your name and growling from below, long fingers still brushing your hips as his thrusts get harder as he approaches his end. George's lips suckle your clit with perfect precision, doubling your pleasure and propelling you towards your orgasm in no time at all.

"I'm, I'm," you try to warn but it's pointless, your climax ripping through your body in a fit of blinding light as you scream out Fred's name, hardly able to hold your head up any longer.

You're lost in pleasure, barely registering fred's orgasm that follows yours within seconds until you feel his cum filling you to the brim, cock lodged in you so deep that you feel he's in your tummy.

He waits for you to get your breath back before slowly pulling out of you, shifting you gently so that you're almost lay beside him, his lips pressing a cool-down kiss onto your own as you feel a stream of cum slowly leaking out.

You're breathless and panting but you still need more, turning to George with expectant eyes, seeing that he's waiting impatiently for you to come back to him.

"On your knees," he commands. You sit up onto your knees and turn away from him now, looking back towards Fred who offers you a loving smile as he leans against the headboard, giving you room.

You gasp when George's hands wrap around your hips, his fingers digging into the marks that Fred had left as he pulls your ass right up to the edge of the bed and presses a hand to the skin between your shoulder blades to push your body down. Your upper half falls forward, ass high up in the air as he grips you with force, his cock already pressed up against your core.

"George," you breathe out in desperation, too worked up for teasing.

The cry that falls from your lips sounds almost non-human as he suddenly pushes forward, his entire length slipping inside your already overworked pussy. The curve of his cock drags purposely against your inner walls and your head drops down onto your arms with the force. He shows no mercy as he pounds into you from behind, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing around the room, his balls hitting your clit with every deep thrust. It's agonising pleasure and you scramble with your fingers to reach out for the duvet beneath you to ground yourself. You look up into Fred's eyes when you feel his hand entwine with yours, offering you that support you so desperately needed.

It's a delicious contrast of personality as the usual menace tenderly holds your hand tenderly in support whilst the normally more sensitive twin takes you roughly from behind. He's growling and groaning as your walls stretch and constrict with the pleasure, your body becoming quickly overstimulated as you feel tears well up in your eyes at the sheer sensory overload.

"George!" You cry out, earning a swift spank to your right bum cheek that seems to echo around the room multiple times. The force of the smack, the jarring of your nervous system and the deep growl that emits from George as your pussy clenched on him is enough to renew your arousal to heightened levels. You can feel that telltale feeling in your lower stomach rising, as if it's slowly taking over your entire body, your skin erupting in goosebumps and your hips suddenly trying to squirm against George's hold. It rises within you quickly until you're squeezing Fred's hand, clawing at the sheets and fucking yourself back onto George's cock, your orgasm erupting. You're silent this time, the slow build of the white hot heat rendering you silent.

"Fucking Merlin!" George cries out, pulling out of you and quickly pulling you down into the bed, turning you over with one slight shove to your shoulder. His fist works quickly on his cock as he looks upon your squirming body, breasts heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, legs wide open and a slight line of drool coming from your mouth. You scramble forwards, your mouth wide open for him as you look up into his eyes with a look that you know will finish him off. You watch closely as his face crumbles, eyes squeezing tightly shut as his fist moves quickly along the long column of his cock, catching against the bulbous tip that looks bright pink.

He cries out as he cums, the viscous liquid spraying your face and shooting into your waiting mouth. You taste him on your tongue, leaning forward to engulf his throbbing tip in your mouth to lick up every drop of the salty liquid that addicts you as you watch him shudder.

You fall back onto the bed in an exhausted heap, flanked by two satisfied men mere moment later who instinctively reach out to touch you, their lips pressing against your slightly sweaty hair and any skin they can reach. Fred offers you his handkerchief to wipe off your face which you gratefully accept, wiping off the quickly drying cum from your cheek.

"You did so well sweetheart," Fred murmurs into your ear, his voice soft and quiet as if speaking louder would shatter the bubble you found yourselves in.

"So good for us," George echoes, his hand reaching out to yours to entwine your fingers as you all fight to regain your usual heart rates.

You're exhausted. Unable to reply back to them no matter how many ways you want to compliment them but can't bring yourself to muster the energy to talk and so you sink down into their comforting hold in complete contentment.

"Not that I mind how it's turned out since I asked the first time," Fred suddenly says, his softness disappearing from his voice as he sounds just as mischievous as usual now. "But what's for tea?"

You smack him on the chest playfully, not wanting to answer his question.

"We could go out," George suggests. You instantly groan thinking of the crowds of people that were inevitably still shopping somewhere, all the craziness of London in general and the number of layers you'd have to put back on. You needed a bath again, cum leaking from you and onto the sheets below, your skin covered in a thin sheet of sweat and most of all you just didn't want to leave the flat again.

"We can order in," George offers, hearing your groan. "Order in and work on getting that Christmas joblist sorted, plenty we can get done before bed."

You don't answer, you simply reach down and pull the covers above your head to hide yourself, wishing it was Harry's invisibility cloak, thinking to yourself  that you'd never heard a worse idea in your life.

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[vampirebloodie]

Jealous jealous jealous boy | Mark Hoffman x Reader (Part 1)

Summary: Where you were Mark's ex-wife and even after so long he was still jealous of you, especially with Strahm.

Warning: angst/sad history, mentions of trap and blood.

You've reached your limit, he's reached his limit. You didn't know what a hole you were in until you discovered who Hoffman really was, his second "job" was simply the most disgusting thing you had ever been aware of in your life. As much as you loved him, you knew that after that you couldn't trust him anymore and that's why you decided to leave the apartment where you two lived.

Mark was at the police station while you packed your bags with some clothes and personal objects, your tears wet the clothes you were folding, it had been three days since your personal investigation made you discover that he was Jigsaw's apprentice, three days you held back so as not to explode and tell someone everything.

You had been suspicious of Hoffman for some time but you refused to believe in anything like that, after all, he was your husband, someone you swore to trust forever, but the evidence was very clear, all the police officers at the station were dying being tested in the worst traps, but not him, as if he were invincible, and that was why the investigation never moved forward, with Hoffman's hands probably sabotaging the evidence.

You wanted to tell and end it all, but if you did that you could easily end up dead, rules are rules, and as much as Hoffman liked you, you didn't want to test how far his loyalty to Jigsaw would go. An image of Angelina flashed through your mind, she had been killed by her boyfriend because she discovered he was a criminal and drug user, what if Hoffman did the same to you if he discovered what you know?

You had already bought a ticket to your hometown, far away from him and all these cases, everything would go well, you would disappear and start your new life somewhere else, without Mark, without murders. When you closed the suitcase and placed it at the bedroom door, you heard the sound of the main door lock opening. You had completely forgotten that Hoffman was leaving work early today, your heart fluttered and you hid the suitcase under the bed before he entered the room, trying to act as normal as possible.

“Hey, babe. What are you doing? You look so pretty, is this all for me?”

Hoffman came in and gave you a quick kiss, you felt a little disgusted.

“Hi... I was cleaning our room, why are you home so early?”

“I just came to have dinner with my beautiful wife.”

He smiled and left the room heading to the kitchen, you sighed. You even thought about putting poison in his food, but Mark wasn't stupid. Maybe if it was a situation before that, you would have been happy hearing him call you that. You put your bus tickets inside your makeup drawer and left the room to eat with him, even though your appetite wasn't present. Hoffman was already sitting at the table eating when you picked up your plate and sat down too, starting to play with your food instead of eating.

"Babe, what happened?"

He asked wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Hm? It's nothing."

You shrugged. You was so scared. You was afraid of him.

"Don't lie. You've been acting strange for days."

He tried to touch your face and you immediately pulled away, getting up from the table, panicking and starting to cry. Mark was scared by your reaction, you had never treated him like this in all these years of your relationship.

"Do not touch me!"

You shouted pointing the knife from your meal at him. The images of the bodies of all those victims of the cases flashed through your mind, your husband was one of those responsible for all that happening and you could no longer bear the pressure of knowing that. You felt disgusted to think that you shared a bed every night with someone who always got their hands dirty with other people's blood, who did an extremely dirty and cruel job, torturing people by making them disemboweled, mutilated, who killed people even though he knew what happened about his own sister had been murdered in a brutal way.

“Y/n! Put that knife down, what happened?”

He asked with a worried expression trying to get closer to you again, making you move further away.

“I can't do it anymore... I need to go, i need to get out of here...”

You said, throwing the knife on the floor and going to the bedroom, Hoffman followed you immediately, you pulled the tickets out of the drawer and took the suitcase from under the bed.

“A suitcase... Where are you going?”

He asked confused.

“It's over, Hoffman. I can't anymore, I can't be together with you anymore. I need to go."

You grabbed your suitcase and tried to leave the room but he pulled you back.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you leaving me? I love you, you can't do this to me. Please....”

He asked looking into your eyes, his eyes were watering. Flashes of your wedding day hit your mind, those same blue eyes looking at you in a passionate way as he held your hand at the altar and said the most romantic words in the world to you, promising to always protect and love you.

“I love you too, but i can't stay with a.... with.... with you... If you really love me.... Let me go..”

You almost said "killer"

"But why? Please don’t leave me, i only have you...”

“Some things don't last forever, Hoffman. The same goes for our marriage.”

You touched his face leaving a kiss on his lips, one last kiss, only to turn around and leave the apartment with your bags in hand. Tears covered your face and you tried to avoid them, but it hurt so much to have to leave him. Everything both of you experienced in three years of marriage was something surreal, even with all the fights because he was an extremely complicated person to deal with, it had never reached such an extreme point, only at the most with you telling him to sleep in the living room, which don't lats two hours because soon you would miss him in bed and call him again. You left the building starting to call the only person who could help you at this moment, an old high school friend.

“Special agent Lindsay Perez, how can i help you?”

“Perez, i need help. My relationship is over and i need to get out of town, can i stay at your place for a few days until i settle down again? I already found a job interview and i just need to go to the bus station .”

“Oh Y/n... I'm so sorry, yes of course, my house will always be open for you. You don't need bus, my car is being repaired, but i can ask my work partner to pick you up, he's in your city for an interview. His name is Peter Strahm. I think you gonna like him.”

[redheadspark]

Off You Go

Summary - You and Oliver send Poppy off to Hogwarts, ready to let her go on her own

A/N - This is part of my Oliver Wood x reader with their daughter Poppy Wood storyline that I might be starting up officially pretty soon!

Warnings - mostly fluff!

“Alright, darlin’.  Here we are,”

“Woah….Is this it, Da?”

“You bet, Pops,”

You were watching with a grin as your husband and daughter, who was sporting her school robes, peered at the Hogwarts Express together whilst holding hands between them.  This day was a day neither you nor Oliver were ready for, and yet it finally came at last.  The weather was perfect, you left your home earlier than you thought you would in case you were going to hit traffic, and now you had mere minutes before sending off your child to Hogwarts.

This day was huge in the Wood household.

Ever since Poppy Angelina Wood got her Acceptance Letter from Hogwarts, she was over the moon excited.  There was no slowing down her mind when it came to what she imagined it would be like at Hogwarts, who she was going to meet, and what she’d learn.  The possibilities were endless with your daughter, and she asked you and Oliver plenty of questions about what it was like for you two when you were students.

“Was Gryffindor the best house?”

“When can I play quidditch like you did, da?”

“Was Herbology hard to learn, mum?”

Both yourself and Oliver indulged her and answered every question she brought you two, never holding back as she was letting her mind expand with imaginations and dreams.  Her older cousins told her plenty of tips and tricks too, promising you that they’d look out for her as she navigated her first year.  Although that made you both feel a bit better, you were still a bit nervous about sending your only child off to school.  

This time it was different for Poppy, she had no real threats against her compared to how it was for you and Oliver.  Ever since the end of the Second Wizarding War, new protections and protocols were placed on the newly renovated Hogwarts, and there hasn’t been any accident or occurrences since then.  

Hogwarts was safe again, insanely safe thanks to the new Aurors at the Ministry of Magic which included both Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.  Another old Schoolmate and fellow Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom, wrote to you and Oliver with reassurance and comfort in telling you both he’ll look out for Poppy while he wasn’t teaching Herbology.  

Still, no matter how many people were telling you Poppy was going to be fine and in good hands, you and Oliver still had some fears and some worries.  Worries that she would hate it, worry that she wouldn’t get the proper footing on her own. 

In the end, she had to go out on her own.

“The Hogwarts Express!” Poppy said in glee as she tugged on her father’s hand, looking at the massive red train that was ready to take off in a few minute's time.  You were remembering back when you were a first year, the same height and size as your daughter, and looking at the massive train in wonder and excitement.  You grinned, shifting in front of the trolley you were pushing with her trunk and a few parcels that she was taking with her from home to make the homesickness more tolerable.  

Lastly, there was a small cage on the top of the trunk with an orange tabby cat inside, sleeping away and not caring what was going on around her.  The cat, affectionally named Clover, was the house cat that was going to be Poppy’s cat at school, which was perfect since Poppy and Clover had been attached at the hip since Poppy was a toddler.  

Other students and parents were bustling around the three of you, loading their possessions and saying their last goodbyes as the Hogwarts Express workers were busy packing the train with ease.  

“Now, remember, when you get to the Hogsmeade Station, you’re goin’ to meet—“ Oliver started with Poppy, but she looked at him and spoke.

“Hagrid, I know Da,” she replied, you eyeing her and then Oliver, seeing the nervousness in his eyes as he knelt down in front of her.  You walked over too, listening in on the conversation with your husband and daughter.

“And then you’ll be Sorted,” Oliver reminded her, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder to give him some ease, “Do ya remember what me and your mum told ya about the Houses?”

“It doesn’t matter what house I’m in, as long as I do my best wherever I go,” Poppy recited clearly, the train then whistling as the first warning that it was time to hop on the train.  She looked a bit nervous then, her confidence was still a bit evident but the small sense of fear was now on her freckled face and in her bright eyes, “Da….Mum…I’m scared,”

That made your heart tender for a moment as you knelt down to be next to Oliver, giving your daughter a warm smile as you spoke, “And remember what we talked about?  Being scared is normal.  Poppy, this is the first step of a big adventure you’re going on, and you’re not alone, right? There are others who are scared too, because you don’t know what will happen, right?”

She nodded rapidly, her fingers were fidgeting in front of the school robes she was wearing.  You and Oliver spoke to her the night before, hearing her worries and fears as if she wasn’t going to make friends if she was going to be lonely.  You had those fears too as a child, and now that you were the parent, it was your turn to be the comforter and the one bringing peace.  

“But that’s the best part, my little Pops,” Oliver explained to her, Poppy watching him with the same eyes she inherited from you and the freckles she got from him dancing on her nose and cheeks, “All ya can do is take it day by day, moment by moment, and know that you’re going to have the best time, at the best school.”

“Really?” She asked with hope in her tone.

“Absolutely!  Your mum and I had the time of our lives all those seven years, both in the good times and bad.  You’re strong, Poppy.  Strong and as tough as they come, You’re a Wood after all,” he explained, Poppy giggling as Oliver held out his arms to her. Poppy hopped into his embrace, Oliver holding her close and almost breathing her in one last time as you petted her brown braid with your fingers.  As hard as it was for you to be parted from your daughter, it was going to be harder for Oliver.  

Oliver and Poppy were a tag team from the moment Poppy was born.  Oliver loved being a father, it was one of the best roles he ever had in his life and he would take being a father over being a quidditch player anytime in his life.  You knew it was a sacrifice for him when you told him you were pregnant, not to mention being pregnant during one of the harshest and scariest times in Magical history with Voldemort taking over the Magical World.  

Poppy was a gift, the purest gift that Oliver never took for granted.  He called off practices and matches to tend to Poppy when she was sick or when you needed help with her.  He took her to professional matches when she was a toddler, rode with her while she was a baby in a harness, and even showed her off to his teammates and old schoolmates.  He treasured her more than anything, and now he was letting his own treasure go on her own for the first time.

“I love ya to the moon and back, Poppy,” he said into her hair, his hold on her tightened slightly, "I’ll miss ya terribly without my partner in crime,”

“I love you too, Da!” She mumbled into his shirt, then pulled away and grinned at him, “I’ll miss you a lot.”

Oliver grinned, you nothing some tears in his eyes as Poppy moved over to hug you tightly.  You hummed in happiness, keeping your daughter close as workers on the Hogwarts Express took her trolley away with her possessions, another single that it was almost time to board.  

“I’m so proud of you my little Pops,” You said to her as you peppered her face with kisses to make her laugh.  She giggled, Oliver was then chuckling wetly as you pulled away and framed her face in your fingers and palms, “We’ll see you again when you come back for the Christmas Holidays, okay?  Remember to study hard, and to play just as hard.  Also, make sure you write home at least once a month and tell us everything you’re up to,”

“Twice a month!” Oliver interjected, both you and Poppy looked at him in shock as he grinned with some tears on his cheek and a shrug on his shoulders.

“Da!” Poppy whined as you rolled your eyes and had Poppy face you again.

“At least once a month…for your Da’s sake,” You joked with him as Poppy giggled, “But most of all, you stay true to yourself and not lose sight of who you are.  You’re smart, kind, and brave, Poppy Angelina Wood, and I am already proud of you, okay?”

“Okay,” Poppy replied with a softer smile, hugging you one more time as you kissed her forehead,” I love you, Mum.”

“Love you too, my darling girl,” You replied.  The Hogwarts Express’s whistle sounded off a second time, which was the last warning before the train was off.  You immediately moved up, letting Poppy go as one of the Head Boys from Hufflepuff saw Poppy, gesturing her to hop on the train.  With one final wave to you and Oliver, Poppy walked a bit faster now with her hesitance gone, going to one of the doors that was open and looking back at you both.  Other parents were waving goodbye, some were already stepping back through the brick wall with ease, and the rest were saying their final farewells as students were waving from the window of the train.  

Though you and Oliver were focusing on Poppy, seeing her wave one more time and then going in through the door.  Oliver hummed, taking your hand in his own and watching with his wide eyes as Poppy’s head poked out from an open window.

“BYE MUM!  BYE DA!  LOVE YOU!” She bellowed, you laughing as you waved.  With Oliver waving too, the Train was blowing steam and bellowed one last time, the last of the doors were closing and the rest of the students were already inside.  With one long lurch, the train was moving, and the massive wheels turned with ease as the train was now on its way out of the station.  Your eyes were still on Poppy, seeing her keep her head out for a longer moment before she reluctantly went back inside the train. 

She was off, and the train soon departed the station and was out of sight within moments.  

Poppy was gone.

As the rest of the parents and patrons started to shuffle away and back through the wall, you looked over at Oliver and sighed, seeing him wipe away his tears and take in a long breath of almost exhaustion and sadness.

“The Great Oliver Wood,” you teased, Oliver wetly chuckled as you cupped his jaw in your fingers,” Your daughter will be fine at Hogwarts, remember?”

“I know,” He hummed in a hiccup,” I didn’t think this day would come but….she’ll be fine, right?”

“Of course she will,” You reassured him, “She’s a Wood, she’ll know how to handle herself.  She’s learned from her Da,”

Oliver grinned, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you two were almost the last two parents still on the platform.  The small comfortable silence between the pair was calming, therapeutic in a way since you two were now alone again in your household, at least for a few months when she came back for the Christmas Holiday.  Oliver then perked up a bit, a small smile on his face as he spoke.

“We can always owl McGonagall and—“ he stared, but you smacked his chest and gave him a scowling look.

“Oliver Wood, you will do no such thing!  Poppy is going to be fine, and I highly doubt our old Head of House and Professor will give us kudos point for our daughter,” You scolded him as you both walked over to the Brick wall, Oliver huffing and rolling his eyes.

“But now she’s the new Headmistress!” Oliver tried to argue with you.

“And as such our child will get no special treatment from McGonagall!  Neville’s already looking out for her, and if Poppy finds out about the Headmistress, she’ll never forgive you, are we clear?”  You warned him, seeing him sigh in defeat as he gave you a soft smile, laving your fingers together.

“Fine.” He replied, you kissing his cheek as you both walked through the brick wall.

The End.

Tagging - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

[non-vampiric-deer]

2014 Girly ID pack

/ names + neopronouns + xenogenders /

part #2 of a series of aesthetic-based ID packs. reminder that most of my info comes from the aesthetics wiki and that's where im getting these aesthetics from. im sorry if these ID packs feel like they misrepresent the aesthetics, as im not particularly deep into any of them. feel free to correct me or add into them!

Names ๋࣭ ⭑ 💗

Dove . Mint . Blossom . Sophia . Lucy . Angelina . Daphne . Madeline . Tiffany . Kat . Barbie . Rosy . Princess . Bow . Lace . Victoria . Star . Flora . Fae . Glory . Pastel . Floral . Daisy . Lily . Evelyn . Pixie . Belle . Claire . Clara . Pearl . Charm . Doll .

Neopronouns ๋࣭ ⭑💗

pink/pinks/pinkself . prin/princess/princesself . barbie/barbies/barbieself . cute/cutes/cuteself . blush/blushs/blushself . soft/softs/softself . bow/bows/bowself . fae/faes/faeself . doll/dolls/dollself . fem/fems/femself . shey/shem/shemself . comfy/comfys/comfyself . cake/cakes/cakeself . star/starbucks/starbuckself . blog/blogs/blogself . apple/apples/appleself . makeup/makeups/makeupself . pajama/pajamas/pajamaself . skirt/skirts/skirtself . celeb/celebs/celebself . chill/chills/chillself . dress/dresses/dresself . frill/frills/frillself . cupcake/cupcakes cake/cupcakeself . flower/flowers/flowerself . fluffy/fluffys/fluffyself . heel/heels/heelself . heart/hearts/heartself

Xenogenders ๋࣭ ⭑💗

everything is clickable.

cutegirlgender . tumblrgender . lacefem . polishgender . pinkgender . marshmallowgender . bowgender . femwebbic . pastelpinkgender . cupcakegender . pinkribbon . sweetcloudic . dulcigender . prettypastelic . cakegender . softgender . caramellattic . fancyperfumic . dessertic

[multiversxwhore]

Wolf

Main character: a black!oc

Warnings: blood/gore, explicit sex scenes, dark suicidal thoughts. Back stabbing bff (pun intended) lust murder–hybristtophilla: deriving from the Greek hybridzein, meaning to perpetuate an outrage against another, has been defined as the phenomenon of an individual being sexually aroused by a criminal offender. Sadistic behavior. MINORS DO NOT READ!

The night Micheal Meyers was finally put to rest, we all thought that'd be the end all be all. That the town could be free to celebrate Halloween night in peace, but that’s the thing about evil, it’s never just one specific person…it’s a spirit. It becomes addictive, the powerful feeling you get from being possessed by such a thing, once you’ve had a taste of blood, the thirst becomes stronger. 

October 31st, 2023— Halloween. 11:15 am

“So what you’re saying is…you’re not coming to my party because you’re scared.” Maddison put her hands on her hips, she emptied a bag of candy into a large bowl, and turned to her distraught friend. 

“Not if we’re watching Hellraiser, that shit’s creepy.” Angelina argued, she walked into the kitchen, and started on the batch of cupcakes she promised she’d make for the party. Carefully she cracked eggs into a seperate bowl from the dry ingredients. 

“Pussy.” Maddison mumbled, then a thought occurred to her, she walked into the kitchen, and leaned her hip against the counter. 

“Sigh…I guess Carter won’t see you in that sexy Little Red Riding Hood outfit I picked out for you.” She teased melodically, Angelina had slowed her cooking, slowly she turned to Maddison. 

“You…invited Carter?” Angelina lifted an eyebrow as she squinted at Maddison suspiciously, this whole time Maddison was saying how she didn’t think Carter was right for her. Now that he’s suddenly being invited to the Halloween party confused Angelina all together. 

“Maybe I did…maybe I didn’t. Fuck around, and find out mija.” Maddison grined mischievously, she twirled around on her heels, and left Angelina with her thoughts. The last time she saw Carter he was sitting by himself in the library, she saw the way people gave him strange stares. In the eyes of the townspeople, he was some freak of a babysitter killer that got let off easy. Angelina didn’t see that in him at all, she refused to believe all the wild accusations that everyone put out about him. 

People lie all the time, they even made up lies about her, and how she managed to get away that night. Angelina had wished that her family's killer hadn’t spared her, she was no longer Angelina Mills, but “The Girl Who Survived Michael Meyers” instead. Carter, and Angelina would exchange conversation here and there, nothing more than commonalities. 

“I’m just saying, it’s been ages since you’ve had some good dick friend. You deserve it for being such a good girl.” Maddison placed the glass punch bowls on a table near the back of the room, then she filled another two bowls with chips, and a smaller one with gummy finger shaped candy. Angelina deeply rolled her eyes as she bent at the waist to carefully place the cupcakes in the oven. 

“If I say I’ll show up, will you stop harassing me?” She walked into the living room, and plopped down onto the couch. She looked around the house, some of the decorations were up already, that would be the easy part. Cleaning up the next day was a different issue. 

“You’re gonna show up, because Carter is going to be there, and you’re gonna give him the gawk gawk 3000. It’ll be great.” Maddison sighed contently, they spent the rest of the morning chatting, and setting up for her party. Around 7:30pm  Angelina finally packed up her things, “see ya later Maddie”, she waved her hand as she left out the front door. 

After a long hot shower, Angelina walked into her room with her towel tightly wrapped around her body. 

“You're going to that Halloween party aren’t you?” Amber, Angelina’s older cousin asked over the phone. The music in her background faded in, and out. 

She let out a deep sigh as she spritzed herself with perfume, “yeah…Carter is gonna be there.” She mumbled, Amber’s end went silent for a moment before she spoke up. “Carter Mason? As in Killer Carter?” Angelina frowned at herself in the mirror at the mention of that awful nickname the town branded him with. 

“Don’t call him that, didn’t your nana teach you not to believe everything people tell you?” She argued as she pulled her clothes on, her skirt was shorter than she anticipated. Half her booty hung out the bottom half of the bright red skirt, the top wasn’t any better. Her breasts are nearly falling out, Angelina bit her lip as she tried to re-adjust her outfit, but failed. 

“My nana also told me, if it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck it must be a murderer.” Amber joked halfheartedly, the frown on Angelina’s face deepened. 

“That’s not funny Amber.” She sighed again, she struggled with her heels a bit as her nails made it difficult to strap the buckle around her ankle. 

“Didn’t you say you liked them half dead? You like crazy niggas Angel. Please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel. Head ass.” Amber mocked, she let out a cackle, Angelina couldn’t hold back her chuckle at the ridiculousness that is her cousin. 

“You’re so annoying, and I hate you. I’ll talk to you later.” She hung up the phone, threw her bag over her shoulder, and checked her self in the mirror one last time. Her phone chimed, a text from Maddison showed up on her screen. 

Maddie❤️: need more  liquor, can you make a run por favor? 

Angelina🩰: sure, omw 

Angelina stared through the refrigerator’s glass door, her eyes scanned over all the beer, and wine coolers. An overwhelming feeling washed over her, as her hand gripped the cool aluminum handle. 

“Coronas are popular.” A voice from behind made Angelina’s heart jump, she turned to look over her shoulder to see that Carter Mason stood a few inches behind her. She hadn’t seen him this upclose in a while, his hair had grown well past his ears, and almost touched his shoulder. He had a five o’clock shadow growing around his face, Carter looked rugged, but still handsome. His eyes softened upon looking at her, Angelina felt exposed under the scrutiny of his gaze, she looked gorgeous wrapped up in her scarlet red hooded cloak. He’s never seen her in anything other than black for the past few years. Though now seeing her like this, he preferred her in black, he’d watch her walk around town looking like a ghost. Unseen by the majority of the town's citizens. At first they would always stare, ask rude questions, and pretend to care. After a long period of silence, Angelina faded into the background. 

“Oh…I guess I’ll take your word for it, I don’t drink beer.” She barely spoke above a whisper, his energy seemed to have swallowed hers. 

“S–so I hear you’re attending the Halloween party?” She wanted to kick herself for sounding so formal, Carter let out a chuckle, his blue eyes flickered away momentarily. ‘Right…the party.’ He reminded himself, all of a sudden remembering what he had set out to do tonight, his fingers twitched at his side. His eyes  trailed the distance between her jaw, and collar bone. Scenarios he’s played over, and over of his hands wrapped around her neck flashed by his mind. 

“Actually I am, I assume by the outfit you are too?” He forced a smile, it was enough to warm Angelina, and cause butterflies to swarm the pit of her stomach. She really wanted to ditch the party all together, but Halloween only came once a year. 

“Yea, just doing a last minute favor, I’ll see you there?” The corner of her lips turned upward into a small smile, the dimple in her cheek becoming more prominent. 

“Yeah, see ya.” He waited patiently as she grabbed two 4pks of beer, Carter deeply inhaled the air that followed behind her.

“It’s too bad…she’s so beautiful.” He mumbled to himself, he stood there a moment longer and watched her reflection through the concave mirror in the upper corner of the store. He let out a deep breath, grabbed his own items, and left. 

By the time Angelina made it to Maddison’s house, cars filled the driveway, and lined the block. She had no choice but to park in front of her neighbors house across the street. “Great, big scary house, with no lighting whatsoever, this isn’t scary at all.” She muttered to herself as she tried to gather all her things so she could just get out the car, and book it to the house. She made it out with all the drinks in her arms, her purse hanging over her shoulder with her phone inside. Briskly she made her walk across the wide street, it felt like she had been walking forever, a feeling of impending death seemed to be breathing down her neck. Little did she know, the danger wasn’t outside waiting on the dark street. But rather inside the very house she was rushing to seek refuge in. 

“So much for Hellraiser I guess.” Angelina looked around at all the people dancing, and grinding on each other. The music, and chatter seemed to have blended togther somehow. Someone had grabbed onto her shoulder, and turned her around. 

“You need some help with that?” Carter shouted over the music, instead of trying to answer back, she nodded her head, ‘yes.’ He took the two packs of beer from her hands, and let her hold onto the two bottles of Casamigos in her arms. She followed him over to  the counter, where the large crowd seemed to have spilled into the kitchen. 

“Where’s your costume?” She asked, as she leaned against the the counter, her body started to feel warm. She guessed all the people in the house made it feel  hotter than usual, she wanted to take her cloak off, and she would have. Carter's intense gaze made her shy away from doing so, at least not while he was looking at her. 

“Oh uh…I’m a wolf, see?” He then put on a wolf’s mask over his head, it was sort of terrifying for Angelina to look at. Without thinking she reached out at pulled his mask off, at first he looked confused, but then she grabbed his hand. 

“I prefer to just see your face.” For a moment Carter snapped out of whatever trance he’d been in for the past month and a half. He saw what he could have, the life, and love he could have with Angelina. 

“Why aren’t y’all dancing and getting drunk? It’s a party!” Maddison had appeared out of nowhere, she reached around the front of Angelina from the back, and yanked the tie that held her read cloak together. Just like that, whatever little dream he had, was gone. 

‘If you can’t finish her…I will.’ Maddison’s threat rang clear in his head, he sighed heavily, but then he got an eyeful of Angelina’s costume. Who knew she was hiding a bust that big under all those baggy shirts? Carter thought, his eyes started at her cleavage, and worked his way up to her face. Her facial expression twisted into one of disgust the way her mouth set into a deep grimace. 

“Damn it Maddison.” Angelina cursed, she felt exposed as Carter’s gaze went down her body. Her arms came down around her midsection as she tried to hide herself. 

“You look great…we could take a shot or two togther if it makes you feel better?” Carter was already pouring, though he poured more than two, Angelina bravely downed three of them. 

“Let’s dance?” 

“Let’s.” 

The music was playing so loud she could feel the bass bumping through her chest, she threw her hips, and ass to the rhythm of the music. She giggled, as she threw herself about, forgetting whatever little fear she had before now. As the music shifted to a slower song so did her movements, Carter grabbed her hips from behind. His lips kissed the shell of her ear, the smell of her perfume excited him. She grinded slowly against the hardened erection in his pants, letting out a soft moan he turned her around. 

Something her cousin said earlier did ring true, she was drawn to guys who had a twinge of darkness in them. Maybe it was because she automatically shut herself off to any man who was ‘normal’, Angelina already predetermined that men like that wouldn’t want a freak like her. They touched their foreheads together; looking into Carter’s eyes so closely felt hypnotic, his fingers caressed her arms gently with his index finger. 

“Come with me.” He commanded, his voice remained calm, and gentle. Angelina felt like he could make her melt if he asked her too, a sensation of butterflies fluttering around in her stomach caused her to be speechless as she followed him through the house. 

He led her up the staircase where people lined the steps with drinks in their hands. They gave them weird looks, both Carter and Angelina ignored them. The upstairs is surprisingly vacant, there’s a bathroom downstairs so there would be no need for anyone to be there. The only lighting in the house came from the full moon outside casting shadows in the hallway. 

The thrill of it all excited Angelina, she pressed her palm against his muscular chest, and pushed him into the bedroom. She walked him backwards until they hit the bed, she pushed him down, and he quickly kicked off his shoes. Pulling his shirt over his head, and unbuttoning his jeans. She crawled onto him grinding herself on his crotch. 

Carter sat up holding her in his arms, he watched as she unbuttoned her top revealing her large breast stuffed into her bra. He grinned wickedly before stuffing his face into into her chest, deeply he inhaled her scent. He flipped them over so that she laid on her back, and that he strattled her waist. Angelina pulled him down to meet her half way in a heated kiss, she shoved his tongue into her mouth tasting the alcohol she downed not to long ago. Her thighs wrapped around his hips, she reached into his jeans and grabbed onto his shaft. He moaned into her mouth as she stroked him slowly, with a firm grip. 

Carter didn’t waste any time, he pulled her panties to the side with one hand, with the other hand his replaced Angelina’s hand with his own. At first he teatsed her slick entrance with his tip, it pushed himself in an inch at a time till he filled her up all the way to the base of his dick. They both moaned at the same time, it’s been far too long for both of them, Carter had been specifically waiting for Angelina to fall into his lap, or rather he’s been waiting for Maddison to hand deliver her to him. She felt better than what he imagined, tasted better than he imagined. He felt a sense of euphoria wash over him, and he knew this would be the perfect time. Everything was perfcet, the moonlight shined brightly into the window, and casted a pale white light onto her skin. Her back arched, head thrown back, and the delicate skin of her neck exposed to him. It was all perfcet, the perfcet dainty victim, on the perfect day of the year, but then she said it. 

“Harder.” She cried, her eyes pleaded with him, and his hips hitched to a stop. He could feel her dripping pussy grip around him, he didn’t expect her to want to be manhandled, ‘I guess none of us are the innocent people we claim to be.’ Carter thought to himself, he didn’t question it though, instead he obliged her dark request. 

“It’s your funeral princess.” Carter murmured, he pulled back all the way to the tip, and slammed back into her. 

“Fuck.” She cried, she pulled her legs back to her head, her hand reached down between her thighs. She moved her fingers in circular motion over her clit, hit after hit brought her closer to a long overdue climax. 

“You’re such a fucking slut, look at you all spread open begging for it.” Carter chuckled darkly, he could feel his pulse rising, her soft moan of pleasure had turned into shouts, and cries of praise. His hands wrapped around her neck, he squeezed lightly at first, her body seemed to relax. Goosebumps spread across her skin, a dark desire unlocked from the depth of her soul. Something that has been dormant for so long, a desire she’s thought about multiple times a day, but was too scared to do herself. There is only one thing that would stop the paranoia, the nightmares…death. 

Carter tightened his grip, at this point his movements were all muscle memory. He could do this with his eyes closed, but he wanted to savor this moment. 

“Yes…tighter please.” She whimpered.

“Goddamn it Angel, no.” Carter began to pull his hands away, she grabbed onto his wrist to keep them in place. 

“Why not?” She cried, her mouth screwed up into a displeased frown, and tears brimming her eyes. 

“You’re fucking crazy.” Carter shook his head, he couldn’t believe this is turning out the way it is. ‘Maddison was so sure it was going to turn out smoothly, now I don’t even want to kill her.’ He thought to himself, regret visible in his eyes. 

“I know you’ve killed before, why is it so hard now?”  She whined, this took him by surprise, but he didn’t deny her accusations. 

“Most women don’t enjoy it when I choke the life out of them.” He stared incredulously, as if the simple notion was so bizarre to him. 

“I don’t enjoy it, well not the physical feeling of it…why can’t you do this for me?” Her tone became demanding, Carter yanked himself out of her hands, and pulled all the way out of her. He pulled his underwear up, and sat on the edge of the bed. Not once has an encounter made him recant his life choices, but now he wished he never said yes to Maddison’s plan. 

“If you want to die so badly, don’t be a coward.” He breathed out, his exasperated facial expression sent a shiver down her spine; she would take it all back if she could, but Angelina felt like she was already knees deep. 

She shoves him from behind, he whipped around only to be met by a hard slap to the face. She watched the dark look in eyes return, the same look he had a moment ago. 

“Pussy.” Angelina mocked. 

“Watch your fucking mouth.” He pointed a finger at her. 

She slapped him with her other hand, he froze for a minute before slowly turning to her. He roughly grabbed her up by the arm, he growled in her  face as if fighting himself. She yanked away from him, she fought, and fought until he let go of her at the last minute making her fall to the ground near the door. 

“Ugh, for the love of god, how hard is it to kill one person!” Maddison burst into the door, Angelina’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. Cater exhaled through his nose, he turned his back to them as he sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers slid into his hair. 

“Um…what is going on?” Angelina’s voice vibrated as reality set in, her body shook violently as she tried to pick herself up off the floor. It was Maddison’s caustic laugh that made Angelina’s heart thud heavily causing  her to feel lightheaded. They stood within inches from each other. 

“Ya know Angelina…I love you but, you’re just so pathetic. Moping around, crying when you think nobody is watching, walking around town all depreso mode. Here I was trying to give you mercy by letting Carter have you, but no, he couldn’t even finish.” Maddison let out a dark chuckle, her lips pulled back into her twisted version of a smile. 

“You’re such a bitch.” Carter spat bitterly, he stood up, and faced them both, his eyes darted over to Angelina who stood frozen by the night stand. Her mouth agape as she tried to breath steady enough to deliver the right amount of oxygen to her brain. 

“No you’re, the bitch Carter, you wined, and googly eyed her for months. Un-fucking-greatful. Sigh, must I do everything myself.” Maddison revealed a sharp knife from behind her back, it glistened in the moonlight. The party down stairs continued as the tension between the three suspended in the air. 

Maddison reached out to snatch Angelina up, out of panic she threw herself backwards, losing her footing, and falling on her ass. Carter launched forward, and onto Maddison. They fell to the ground with a thud, she had an ironclad grip on her weapon, her arm reached up, and stabbed him through the shoulder. Carter's cry of pain deepened into a groan. Angelina’s words stuck in her throat, she couldn’t believe what was happening right now, her eyes looked around for some kind of weapon to defend herself. While Carter, and Maddison were tussling she opened the top drawer; by the time she found the letter opener Maddison had already plunged her knife roughly into Carter's chest. Hot tears poured down Angelina’s face as she watched her best friend violently stab him repeatedly. Blood splashed everywhere, all over Carter, on Maddison’s face, and shirt.

“Goddamn it.” Maddison breathed heavily, her breath shaky from the intense rush of adrenaline. She relished in the feeling for a moment, she almost forgot Angelina was standing on the other side of the room until…a creek in the floor sounded louder than it should have under her feet. 

Slowly Maddison rose from the floor, she took her time turning to face Angelina, the corner of her mouth turning up into a playful grin. Her eyes shined with malice. “Please tell me you’ll at least put up a fight babe.” Maddison was already coming at her, the room wasn’t that big. She dogged to her left in an attempt to aim for the bed, but Maddison had caught a handful of Angelina’s box braids. She yanked her head backwards so aggressively she felt like her head was going to come off. 

“You sure are strong for a bitch that always ask me to open fucking pickle jars.” Angelina grunted as she held the back of her head, her vision blurred as she looked at her hand dripping with her own  blood. 

“What can I say? Murder energizes me.” She dropped on top of Angelina, Maddison broke out into hysterical laughter. She laughed until tears spring from her eyes, and her face turned red. Angelina stirred as she attempted to fight back although her head felt like it had been split in half. 

“That…that was funny. No no, don’t move, I’m gonna give you the death you so desperately desired. I need you to squeal a little bit. You ain’t dead yet.” Maddison raised her hand back, and slapped Angelina across the face. She shouted in pain, her mouth leaked blood. 

“That’s what I’m talking about.” The second Angelina got a second wind to fight back, Maddison drove the knife right into her side. Angelina froze from shock, yet again speechless. 

Maddison pulled the knife from the side of her, then lunged it into her chest where she stabbed her vigorously five more times. She reveled in the feeling of the warm blood covering her hands, she took a moment to calm down her breathing, got up from the floor, and walked out the guest room leaving them both lying on the floor. She made sure to lock the door behind her; calmly she made her way to her own room, weapon in hand. Maddison opened her wardrobe, she removed a loose panel from the bottom, and placed the knife inside. She then took a freshly dry cleaned costumed that was hanging over the bed, and laid it out on her bed. After a quick shower, she put her sexy cheerleader outfit back on, and went back down stairs to the party.

A/n: This one shot came to me from a dream I had a few nights after I had watched Halloween ends. Which I ended up watching the last 3-4 movies because I just never had until now. So yes, I love Micheal now, that’s may man, hope y’all enjoyed my sort of take on the last Halloween movie. Um, I hope the spooky girls think I’m cool now. 🥹

[triviareads]

I started the month strong by cracking, buying the last two books, and finishing Sierra Simone's Thornchapel series (here are my final thoughts), and then mostly spent the rest of the month on ARCs (see below) and a pretty diverse array of romances. All in all a great month!

Bed Me, Baron by Felicity Niven (releases September 7th)

I haven't had this much fun reading a historical romance in a long time. It's one of those romances that start off relatively light and frivolous (and there's an immediate "teach me" moment), but by the end, it really packs an emotional punch. For my full analysis on friends-to-lovers and the daddy of it all, here's my review.

Full Moon Over Freedom by Angelina M. Lopez (releases September 5th)

I'm not one to read romances with magic in them, but Angelina wrote wrote this deeply cultural and spiritual take on magic and superstition and intertwined it with the romance masterfully. Here's my full review.

The Duke Gets Desperate by Diana Quincy (releases September 26th)

This book felt particularly special to me because the heroine is a first-generation immigrant and retains both her family's Palestinian culture and that classic can-do American spirit. The cultural rep as well as the feminist legal themes are compelling reasons for why we should be reading and writing more historical romances set later in the Victorian era. Here's my review.

It Had to Be a Duke by Vivienne Lorret (releases November 28th)

Adorable, hysterical, full review coming in a couple months, but here are my reactions.

What Was Meant To Be by Heather Guerre

Small-town romance done right. This one really hit on an emotional level; Rain has been under her father's thumb her entire adult life and was never given the resources and support she needed as someone with autism. As a result, she finds herself coerced into marry Wes, a guy in rural Wisconsin she's never met, so Wes can get the property he needs for his resort (basically a dowry :/). What follows is heartbreaking and uplifting at once: Rain begins to exercise her independence and she and Wes slowly come around to an tentative understanding. This is a book where fucking leads to feelings and there are some great sex scenes in this one. Rain is the dominant one in their sexual relationship, and Wes is 100% here for it... a Good Boy, if you will. It's a soft domme vibe but effective and very natural in my opinion, and I would love to read more of this dynamic in romance novels.

Knockout by Sarah MacLean

I knocked this one out in a day (here are my final thoughts). Plotwise my favorite in the Hell's Belles series (a series of mysterious targeted explosions? come on), and the romance between Imogen and Tommy was a perfectly done Grumpy/Sunshine. Also, if you weren't imagining Detective Inspector William 'The Duke' Wellington while reading Tommy Peck, you were reading it wrong.

Rules of Engagement by Christina Dodd

If there's one thing Christina Dodd excels at, it's writing a bitchy hero in that early 2000s kind of way. Kerrich has a little St. Vincent in him; his biggest issue (apart from his trauma from accidentally mooning the King of England after he fell off a trellis because he saw a girl naked) is that alllll his servants find him so hot they can't help but proposition him, so he decides to find the ugliest governess, procure a child, and become "respectable" thanks to a blackmail threat. Also, he does unironically wear a monocle and I'm here for it. Pamela is the kind of pragmatic heroine I love: she's willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done, but when push comes to shove, she feels very little shame in seeking pleasure.

The Prize by Julie Garwood

If you find yourself missing the Lillian-Westcliff dynamic but perhaps want to see it play out in a medieval setting, then this is your book! Royce is a hypercompetent Norman lord, and Nicholaa (yes there's an extra 'a' there) is, as the blurb perfectly puts it, a "resourceful, rebellious and utterly naive" Saxon lady. In the grand theme of Westcliff, there was definitely some conversation about how it was "unlike" Royce to do some not-entirely-consensual stuff during the deflowering scene, to which I say no, it really was... in character. Man was on the brink.

But if that's your jam, then you'll probably enjoy this one.

Redhawk Reunion series by Robin Covington

I found a new favorite Harlequin Desire series this month! The Redhawk Reunion series is about three siblings of Native American descent who were removed from their parents' home by CPS without cause and separated (I strongly urge everyone to look into Indian Adoption Project, the Indian Child Welfare Act, and Haaland v. Brackeen to learn more because it used to be upsettingly common due to government policy). Adam, the hero of the first book, hires PI Tess to find his long-lost siblings and they fall into a FWB situation with a side of secret REVENGE. The second book involves Adam's sister Sarina, who accidentally marries his business partner Justin in Vegas, and they too end up in a FWB situation except, well, as a married (for convenience) couple. As far as Harlequin Desires go, both are top-notch and deliver exactly what you want from this imprint.

Also, I believe the next book is supposed to be about Adam and Sarina's brother Roan and the President of the United States' daughter, whose portrait he's supposed to be painting and I'm VERY excited for that.