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emeritusemeritus · 4 months ago

Note

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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mysticgalsworld · 5 months ago

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swept away pt. 3

a/n: wow, first thanks so much for the love on the first and second parts of this story !! im excited to see how this story progresses :) (im hoping to have 5 parts total for this story) and as always, i do take requests. anyways, enjoy lovelies 💕

pairing: hugh jackman x cleaning lady f! reader

summary: after getting a job at a cleaning company as a maid, you’re surprised to find out that the house you’re cleaning for belongs to the Hugh Jackman..

content warnings: fluff, angst, f! reader, maternal role, cursing, power imbalance, slow burn?, not spellchecked

parts: 1, 2, 3

The first puzzle was the start of so much more. When you finally left that night, your thoughts were filled with Hugh. The way he hunched like an old man over the complicated puzzle, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

The moment you slid that puzzle piece over, little did you know that the joy washing over his face would be burned into your brain forever.

Coming to clean the next week, your body jitters excitedly with nerves. Your nervous about Hugh. About seeing the kind smile he always seems to have on his face. About seeing his strong, capable arms fit into the casual clothes he’s always wearing.

Stepping into the open house once again, you carry your equipment to your normal pathway. Your arms burn as you lug the heavy equipment over to the kitchen.

You keep your faze burned onto the equipment, silently begging it not to fall embarrassingly on the floor.

Hugh is sitting at the counter, engrossed in whatever it is that he’s working on. He doesn’t look up when you enter the room, too focused on his task. It’s not until you speak that he lifts his gaze, a smile appearing on his face as he realizes it’s you.

“Hey, Hugh…” Your voice melodic and somewhat tired as you place the heavy equipment down on the floor.

"Hey," he responds, straightening up and turning behind to face you. "You’re here earlier than usual." In response, your cheeks blush and instead you go around the counter to stander across from him. “I hope that’s okay…. Wanted to get a quick start on today, Valerie has a doctor’s appointment.”

"Oh, of course it’s okay," he reassures you, his words coming out quickly and smoothly. When you mention Valerie’s upcoming doctor’s appointment, his brow creases slightly, a concerned look on his face. "Is it about the cast?"

With a small sigh, you rub your face tiredly then pick up a red bucket from your pile of equipment. You go over to the sink, absentmindedly responding to him over your shoulder. “Yeah, they’re supposedly giving us a date for when she can get it off.”

Hugh follows your movements with his eyes, watching you fill the red bucket up with hot water. He furrows his brow momentarily, concerned for the little girl and for you.

"That's good news, right? She must be itching to get that cast off," he says, leaning against the counter and watching you carefully. You hum in agreement, starting to clean the few dishes in the sink.

The quiet is peaceful. Hugh goes back to whatever he’s working on and your nosy eyes glance at him from over your shoulder. There’s glue, brushes, and what looks like a picture in front of him? Before you’re able to stop yourself, you voice blurts out curiously in the silence.

“What uh— are you working on?” You ask him, feigning absentmindedness. You are still unsure about what relationship has built between you. Almost crossing the line in the sand, but nerves causing you to second guess yourself.

Turning back to the sink full of the soapy water bucket, you squint your eyes in somewhat frustration, almost like the sink itself has caused your troubles.

Too worried about yourself, you barely notice Hugh’s hesitation behind you. He clears his throat a few times, thinking about the meaning behind his actions. Wanting to give him more attention so he doesn’t think you aren’t listening, you dry your hands on the towel beside you and turn towards him.

His hands pause their movements with the paintbrush and he looks up to you with a too-casual smile. “It’s—uh nothing. Just glueing something together.” You look at him with a confused smile and move towards him slowly.

Your smile falters as you see what it is. The same colorful edges from the puzzle you helped him complete last week stand in front of you. The frayed edges from mistakingly putting a wrong piece there taunt you. He’s gluing it together. Before you can stop your mouth from moving, you speak.

“Is that the puzzle I helped you with?” your voice calls out to him like a siren’s inquisition. He looks up with a unidentifiable nod before putting his head down to continue to work.

His silent conformation warms your heart, but before you can allow yourself to feel something other than stress for once, you abruptly turn with a stiff smile and go back to the sink.

Your mind reels silently, hoping to turn your brain against your heart. Maybe he just liked the picture—the perfect scape of a small cottage overtop a valley of large mountains. Maybe he liked the way the colors told the story of how perfectly that life would fit to anybody.

Your brain denied any connection that puzzle had to you. The comfortable silence and shy way you tried to help him. First by sliding a piece over to his side with your finger, your other hand on your coffee mug. Then working to handing him pieces, your fingers accidentally brushing against his.

You could never forget his bright smile, his happiness almost electric. You couldn’t forget it even if you tried. Thoughts lost in the sink full of soapy dishes, words are spoken into the silence.

Almost going completely missed by you, you blink and respond in an almost shaky tone. “I—I’m sorry?”

You hear the clearing of his throat behind you as you go back to scrubbing a dish in the sink. “I asked if you needed any help..” His voice sounds strained—embarrassment barely peeking through.

You turn to him over your shoulder and give him a shy smile. “I’m not supposed to accept…” Without a word, Hugh stands from his project and walks towards you. He grabs a dish towel from beside you and starts to dry the dishes as you wash them.

The silence between you two is comfortable and natural. After a while, he sets down the dish towel and walks back toward his project. Confused, you wonder where he wordlessly went, but you guess he just went back to his project.

Suddenly, you hear the grunge beat of Fiona Apple play softly behind you. Hugh places his phone between you both as he goes back to drying the dishes. From that moment on, you scrub the dishes with a wide smile.

“I’m sorry— I can’t. Not this week.” My voice comes out shaky as I run my fingers through my hair. The phone feels like 100 pounds as you continue to listen to the voice on the other side.

“Y/N, without a suitable reason I may have to give someone else your workload.” Ms. Wong’s voice comes out strong and solemn. Your fingers loosen around the phone as you listen to her words.

“Ms. Wong, please… I can’t clean this week at normal time because my sister has to get her cast off. If I could find anyone else to take her I would. But I need this job… Please.” You continue to plead, hearing the small sigh on the other side.

“I will inform the client about this week. Be there at 5:00. If you’re not, someone else will be.” Her voice is strangely cold, but maternal. Before she finishes, your voice sings out gratitude and appreciation, “Thank you so much, Ms. Wong. Thank you…”

A soft grunt of acknowledgment is heard on the other side before the click of the dial tone. You sigh, brushing the hair from your forehead as you lean back on the tattered couch.

Around you is—bleak to say the least. The crowded space of your shared living room entraps you as you watch your mother rock in her chair watching tv. Valerie sits on the floor next to her, playing with the pages of a colorful children’s book. Her giddy coos calm you as you toss your phone onto the other side of the couch and lean your exhausted head against the too-soft cushions.

The next time you enter his house, the sun is starting to set. The trees perfectly frame the house as the golden sun dims and makes the house look ethereal.

Using your company’s key, you enter the house for the what seems like the hundredth time. Lugging your equipment in, the soft sounds of music greet you as you enter. “Hugh?”

Your footsteps are light as you enter the kitchen and see him cutting something. He looks up as you enter, his sleeves rolled up. “Oh, hey Y/N. I’m sorry, I forgot you were coming..”

Your cheeks redden as rush to explain yourself. “I’m sorry, Hugh. I thought my boss told you. Ms. Anna Wong?” Before you can continue your ranting, Hugh cuts you off with a gentle chuckle and sarcastic glance.

“Oh yes, lovely woman. She mentioned you would be coming late, but I guess I meant I’m just not used to it.” His voice is lighthearted and casual as he continues to chop the vegetables.

“Once again, I’m sorry. Valerie finally got her cast off and my God it’s been crazy. We had to wait hours at the clinic and of course she cried at the saw even though it’s made not to hurt you and—well it doesn’t even matter.” You try to cut off your own ranting, but Hugh glances up with an understanding smile. “So she’s enjoying freedom?”

You smile and nod, adjusting your equipment in your hands and clearing your throat. “Well I can start upstairs so I don’t bother you…”

Hugh scoffs and smiles. “Your never a bother Y/N. Honestly, you can stay for dinner since it is 5:00.” He poses this request so casually, but internally your heart stops. Would this be crossing the line? Do you care? With a smile and a nod, you respond. “Well, if you’re offering Hugh…” He laughs softly at your antics and watches as you walk upstairs to start your cleaning.

Even though it would seem so awkward to share a meal with an A-list actor as a cleaning lady, for you it was the most natural thing in the world. He made something simple—chicken and roasted vegetables— and you both ate at the counter.

Conversation flowed naturally between you both as he asked more about Valerie and your parents. “And her birthday is in a couple weeks so I have to somehow accommodate her Hello Kitty obsession into a party…”

“—Hello Kitty? I didn’t know kids were still into that. I mean, my daughter was into that when she was younger and that was years ago…” He chuckles as he says it and you watch admirably as nostalgia shines in his eyes.

The night continues pleasantly as you eat and talk. After dinner, you clean up the kitchen—half doing your job and half repaying him for the work of cooking. While you scrub the dishes, he takes his normal place beside you, drying them and playing the soothing music of Fiona Apple.

As you shut the water off, Hugh is quick to get something out of a cupboard in the living room. He calls you over to come to him and hold the a small box in his hands. The front of the box has a picture of a colorful cat on it and he sets it on the coffee table. Seeing that it’s a puzzle, you sigh before agreeing to work on it with him.

You work in comfortable silence, music still softly playing in the background. As the night continues, your hands still. You are so close to him and he smells amazing. You breathe soothingly and try to hand a puzzle piece to him, but your hands brush together.

You shudder as you feel your cheeks flush from the electricity between you. The music playing softly and his ragged breathing is the only thing you can hear. “Hugh…” You voice is soft and hesitant. In response, Hugh’s hand comes up slowly to softly cradle your face.

“Y/N…” Your name on his tongue causes something soft to stir within you. You never want to hear him stop. Leaning forward slightly, you can feel his mouth inches away from yours.

Hesitantly, you almost pull away, but Hugh makes the first move. A soft kiss between you both makes you melt. His lips are solid and warm as he moves against you. You have no time to think about any possible consequences as your thoughts are filled with him.

Pulling away, your mind reels. As if he could read your thoughts, he gently caresses your face. “Y/N…” His voice and his touch pulls you out of the dark hole of your brain. “I—I shouldn’t have done that.”

Hugh’s brows furrow as he listens to you intently. “Well, I’ve been wanting to do that since you first slid that puzzle piece to me.” In response, you feel your cheeks flush. You smile at him shyly.

“Is that why you glued the puzzle together?” It’s his turn to smile shyly as he nods. In this moment your heart feels incredibly full. To have a man like Hugh feel something for you, even it is not completely labeled, is exhilarating.

Worries still cloud your mind, but instead of focusing on the negative, for once you just relax. The rest of the night, before you go home to your family, is filled with peaceful puzzles and sneaky kisses.

a/n: hey lovelies !! i’m sorry this took so long please don’t hate me 😅 currently i’m so busy with college and life is kinda kicking my ass, but i’m glad to be back… as always let me know what you think and i take requests.. 💕

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman x f! reader #hugh jackman x reader #tumblr fyp #deadpool and wolverine #fypage #hugh jackman and ryan reynolds #hugh jackman angst #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman fic #hugh jackman fluff #hugh jackman x you

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mysticdreamdrafts · 28 days ago

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Leon Kennedy | Slow Dance

Alright lovelies it’s Leon time. This is an imagine I wanted to make for the hard working babes that have bad days and need a little bit of a break. So I wrote this.

This is TOOTH achingly sweet. But that’s because it’s Leon. Please know that lol also I’m sorry for the fluff, I just had the idea and I wanted to make y’all have the experience you deserved.

Being loved. ps i didn't spellcheck this lol ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.‧₊˚❀༉‧ Word Count: 953 Song for the dance

It was another day of chaos and upset, and quite frankly you had reached your limit today. The pounding in your chest and the tears that had welled up in your eyes were enough reminder that you had been more than done with the shitty Monday you had.

Since lunch you had daydreamed about a nice warm bath and a trash movie to watch just so you could reset. Sprinkle your boyfriend on top of that, it was an ideal way to wind down your day.

At the thought of Leon, you reached for your phone after parking the car in the driveway to your apartment. You hadn’t had to chance to get back to him with how busy the day was, and guilt settled in upon seeing the few missed messages you had. The last he had gotten from you was a text of “I’m so tired of this place” before disappearing on accident.

‘What happened?’

‘Do you need me to bring you something for lunch?’

‘Is it your manager again? You know that guy is a dick.’

‘Still think you should quit.’

‘Just checking in.’

So simple, but enough to remind you that he cared and cared deeply. Even a desk 9-5 job was enough for him to be ready to burn it all to the ground. The thought tugged a smile against your face as you clambered out of the car and made your way up the stairs to your apartment.

You brought your phone up to your ear, finally calling him back. You pinched it between your cheek and shoulder as it rang and dug through your bag to find the keys. You came to a brief stop hearing a jingle going off behind the door, bringing you to finally push the door open and blink in confusion.

Sure enough there he was, mid-step down the hall to get to the entryway only to stop as he saw you come through. His tentative smile was infectious. You immediately gave a puzzled one back to him, and shut the door behind you with a small laugh.

“Hello? What are you doing here?”

He shrugged and made his way to you, plucking the phone from you and hitting ‘end’ as he sighed.

“You never got back to me so I was afraid you had killed everyone at your job and came home early in hiding,” he lightly joked. Only lightly because at some point he was afraid maybe that would indeed happen with how often those people drove you crazy. That got another laugh at you, and you happily let him take your things before meeting him for a gentle kiss. As you wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands settled on your waist and held you close. The comfort was enough to bring another lump to your throat.

He left another peck on your lips, and pulled away enough to look your expression over with genuine concern.

“Bad day?”

“Ya think?” You chuckled. You sighed dramatically, and set your head on his chest, just enjoying the hold. “Thank you for coming. I was just a little…over it.”

“I can’t blame you,” he hummed. His hand rubbed lovingly up your back, binding his hold around you in a vine. “You know what would make you feel better?”

The question had a bit of inclination to it, bringing you to separate enough to see his face. You gave those suspicious eyes up to him, and he didn’t bother to hide the smirk that split his face and he moved, grabbing your hand to pull you further into the home.

You didn’t exactly know what to expect, but you didn’t expect the candlelight and flower petals on the ground to meet your eyes as you rounded the corner. Immediately a silent gasp left you seeing the state of what was once your living room. All of the furniture had been moved, leaving the floor open and the candles all around the ignite the dimly lit area. Pieces of your favorite flower had dotted the floor, making a perfect circle.

You had been so distracted, you hadn’t even noticed he left your side. Not until the soft music started playing throughout the room. You nearly broke your neck spinning behind you, seeing the bluetooth speaker set up as he pressed play on his phone. As quickly as he had moved to start the gentle melody, he was beside you again, and linking his fingers with yours.

“May I have this dance?”

A tearful smile met him as a response. You didn’t have the words to express your joy, so instead you simply nodded, and let him slowly lead you to the small circle.

Easily, his hand settled on your hip, bringing your own hand up to his shoulder as he kissed at your hand and you began to sway. Your head fell on his shoulder as he pulled you in, and you closed your eyes in bliss to simply be in the moment.

It was one thing to have someone try to make you feel better, but you had a boyfriend that wanted to acknowledge he could do a bit more. He wasn’t always there, and that much he knew, but he was here now. He had taken the time to go shopping and do what most people would think was too much. For a simple bad day? But for him it wasn’t enough. He wanted to always do more, and be there for you in ways a lot of other people couldn’t. He wanted to make sure you weren’t always in overdrive…and this was the best way to slow you down and make you realize the small things mattered. You mattered. Always.

#reader insert #leon kennedy #leon x reader #imagine #resident evil imagines #resident evil #leon x insert #leon imagine #fluff #softcore

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xoxonyxx · 1 year ago

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What Should've Been (Azriel x Reader)

A/N Apologies for any grammar mistakes. This hasn't been spellchecked. Also this isn't really a part 2 to What Once Was b/c it doesn't follow where WOW ended, it's more like a glimpse into the past when Azriel was falling for Y/N. Hope I break some hearts a little more. Enjoy.

It was during one of the times that Rhysand had brought both Cassian and Azriel back home to visit. He had been trying to tame the eagerness he felt at the thought of seeing you again which was no easy feat. Lately, Azriel had no control over his feelings when it came to you, his internal struggle wreaked havoc in his thoughts. You were Rhysand's little sister and a dear friend to him, one of the very few he had and he knew you deserved someone so much better than him. So he’d try to push down whatever inappropriate feelings he’d have and attempt to convince himself that the only reason his heart stumbled upon itself when he heard your voice was because he was overwhelmingly happy you were near as any friend would be. The list was endless of how many senseless and idiotic reasons he tried to convince himself of.

Obviously, it was an ongoing battle that he wouldn’t wager on being the victor of.

Unfortunately for him though, he hadn’t seen you last night when they had arrived due to it being so late already and this morning you had already been up and about before anyone in the house awoke.

You had been gone all day but that hadn’t been odd as you were often off with your own friends usually getting into trouble or entertaining yourself outside of the castle when your father was in a foul mood. However, once you had missed dinner he had been tasked with finding you by your worried mother as she saw how the sun began to disappear and you still had yet to return. That’s how he found himself searching all of your favorite hideouts only to find you sitting near the edge of the lake surrounded by books, illuminated by lanterns all around you and the moonlight above.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding all day.” He sighed as he approached you, watching as your concentration broke upon hearing him.

You turned to him with a small glimmer in your eyes and a hint of a smile on your full lips, so small that if he were anyone else, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“If I had known you were missing my company, I would’ve made sure to not leave you all day Az. We all know how needy you can get when you’re not given the proper attention.”

Gods, what he would do to see your smile but as of late you had seemed to carry around a bitter sadness in your eyes that he couldn’t figure out. And no matter how many times he or Rhysand and even Cassian asked, you shrugged it off and said nothing to shed light on the issue.

“Well how about we try not to disappear for a whole day next time, can’t have me starved of your attention, princess.” He responded as he took a seat next to you on the grass, close enough to feel your warmth. His shadows immediately made their chaotic way to you, gliding up your arm as you reached out to caress them. He blushed as he tried to restrain the shadows and call them back to him.

Giving up when he couldn’t gain control, he finally looked around at the mess of books surrounding you. “Looks like you took every book from the library. What are you up to?”

You glanced down at the book you were holding on your lap before closing it shut, fully turning to face him causing him to do the same. His eyes trailing your face, appreciating the glow the stars and the moon shone upon you, committing the image to memory and thanking every being in the universe for allowing him to exist in your presence.

“I’ll tell you as long as you promise to listen to everything I have to say first and ask questions once I’m done.” Curiosity filled him before he gave a nod allowing you to continue. “Ok well for the past month I’ve been collecting every scripture I could possibly find on anything written on Shadowsingers which was incredibly difficult might I add but I should’ve expected that considering how rare you are. Anyway, I tried to learn everything I could find on where your shadows come from and what they are, even on how they work which by the way they’re actually so incredible Az, you have no idea. I went down the rabbit hole and actually found out that although very difficult it’s possible to hide from them.”

You paused for a second, taking in a nervous breath before looking into his eyes and continuing.

“ And I don’t know… I just thought that getting to know them would make them a little less terrifying to see them as a part of you?” He silently stared for a moment, taking in everything you had said until he finally spoke.

“You did this for me?” He asked, softness lacing his voice as he felt warmth flood through him.

You gave a slight nod as you played with the rings on your fingers.

“Why?” He had to ask, he had to know why you would put in all this effort for someone as undeserving as him.

You shifted slightly, reaching out to grab his hand, stroking his scarred hand as light as a feather and with the softest voice he’s ever heard from you up until today, you respond with an answer that sets his heart off racing.

“You’re my friend Az, I’d do anything for you. And I just want you to see yourself as I see you. You think that no one notices but I do, I see how difficult it’s been for you to adapt to your shadows even after all these years and how desperate you are at hiding them at times and I want you to know that there’s no need. No need for the shame that fills your eyes whenever you catch a glimpse of your hands, no need for the embarrassment that you feel when you can’t control your shadows. There’s no need to hide, they’re a part of what makes you who you are and you as a whole are perfect Azriel.”

His breath caught in his throat as emotion consumed him and from that moment on he knew that there was no coming back from loving you. He had never met a person with your heart, the heart that loved so fiercely and with so much passion that it could bring him to his knees. You would hold his own tainted heart in your hands until you decided you no longer wanted it and even then he wasn’t sure he had it in him to take it back.

So for the rest of the night, you laid side by side underneath the stars explaining everything you had learned while he listened attentively, hoping you didn’t realize that you hadn’t let go of his hand yet.

And as he rested his eyes upon you, determination flooded his veins and realization struck him. He could no longer be just friends with you. He could no longer pretend that he didn't burn with need to have you at his side, could no longer bring himself to forget that you were his very last thought before he drifted off into slumber and that it was you who consumed his every waking thought.

#angst #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you

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thisapplepielife · 2 years ago

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5 Words Fic Challenge

Thanks for the tag, @hbyrde36!

The rules as follows:

1- generate 5 random words using this generator and then write something using those words! 2- tag 5 (or however many you want) mutuals to challenge!

(If you don’t like the five words you got, re-roll them. This is meant to be a fun little challenge, not something to stress over. Have fun!)

My words were:

Catechetical, incoordination, guitarfish, spilt, & acoustic.

Catechetical was the thorn in my side. Even spellcheck hates it, lol. Is that the first word I'd use? Or that thousandth? No. Does it make absolute sense? Questionable. Go with it. 😂

____

FIC: Steddie, fluff, flirting & innuendo, 2,108 words.

“Okay, Harrington, listen up. We’re gonna do this all catechetical-like,” Eddie bosses, putting Dragon Slayer, his acoustic guitar, in Steve’s hands.

“I don’t even know what that means,” Steve says, sitting on the floor, his long legs stretched out. Eddie notices that he's holding onto the guitar awkwardly, the picture of utter incoordination.

Eddie knows Steve Harrington isn’t uncoordinated. Not in the slightest, he’s just nervous.

“Questions and answers, keep up,” Eddie says, “now you ask, and I answer. Me teacher, you student.”

“Do you have a ruler to swat my hand with?” Steve asks playfully, reaching up for the beer in Eddie’s hand. Eddie hands it over, and Steve takes a swig before handing it back.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Eddie taunts, and then adds, “I'm not sure if I can rustle up a ruler. But I do have a set of handcuffs handy,” he says, nodding his head towards the pair hanging on the wall. “So be a good little student, or else."

Steve rolls his eyes.

“Okay…” Steve trails off, seemingly unsure about this, “first question though, how will I know what questions to ask?”

“Good point,” Eddie says, “well, first things first, if you’re gonna be a guitar god, you’re gonna need a cool name. Like Corroded Coffin. Or Eddie the Banished.”

“That’s really the first thing? You sure about that? Wouldn’t actually knowing how to play the guitar be a more important first step?” Steve asks, looking up at him, suspicious.

“No way, never underestimate what a good stage name can do for you,” Eddie assures, waving his hands around dramatically.

“Fine. I don’t care, you can name me,” Steve says, looking down at Dragon Slayer laying across his chest. Eddie thinks it looks good there. Really good.

“Guitarfish!” Eddie shouts loudly, slightly unhinged, but sure of his choice. Sometimes you have to go with your gut, and his gut is saying Guitarfish.

Steve rolls his eyes, “Why Guitarfish?”

“Because you used to, you know, swim. Like a fish.”

“That doesn't even make sense. I’m not being called Guitarfish. It sounds stupid, dickhead.”

“Sorry, you shoulda named yourself then. Send all complaints to the complaint department. I hear the guy running it is pretty cool though, he might listen to reason.”

“He’s you, isn’t he?” Steve banters dryly, looking down at the strings and giving them a little pluck. It doesn’t sound great, but Eddie’s definitely heard worse. He tried to teach Gareth to play the guitar once, and never again. No fucking way. This can’t go that bad. Nothing can go that bad.

Of course, Eddie wasn’t interested in being this close to Gareth, either. He’s definitely got ulterior motives today. And he’s about to make good use of those motives, right now.

Eddie gets down on the floor behind Steve, and scoots forward until he has bracketed Steve’s body with his own. Is it a requirement to teach him to play the guitar? Probably not, but he’s doing it anyway.

Eddie puts his beer down, steadying it, and then he hooks his chin over Steve’s shoulder, “Okay, we’re starting with an E minor chord. All the action is here on the second fret,” Eddie says, moving Steve’s fingers to the second fret, counting down from the top, “one, two. Okay, put your index finger on the fifth string, and your middle finger on the fourth string.” Eddie says, counting up from the bottom string, the thinnest one, and up to the top, the thickest. Then he adjusts Steve’s fingers to be in the right place on the guitar, “The fourth, the fifth.”

“The minor fall, the major lift,” Steve says absentmindedly, and now Eddie is the baffled king.

“You know Leonard Cohen?” Eddie asks, shocked at this development.

“Robin,” Steve says, by way of explanation.

“Robin. Robin, she of Madonna, Blondie, Bowie, and Beatles fame? That Robin?”

“That’s the one,” Steve laughs, “she is a complex woman, who won’t be judged for her varied and vast array of interests by a dingus like me.”

“And you’re a parrot,” Eddie teases, and Steve laughs, “because that sounded just like Robin was in the room with me.”

Steve grins.

“Okay, middle finger there,” Eddie says, getting back to the teaching.

“I know where I’d like to put my middle finger,” Steve grumbles, and Eddie grins behind his back, but otherwise ignores him.

It looks uncomfortable, with Steve’s large hands, so Eddie makes a slight adjustment, “Try this instead,” Eddie says, and he has him use his middle and ring fingers instead. He definitely has long enough fingers to make that work, Eddie knows from experience. But that’s neither here nor there, right this second.

Later, maybe.

“Does that feel more natural?” Eddie asks, looking at his finger placement.

“I thought I was supposed to be the one asking the questions?” Steve teases, and Eddie smiles.

“Smartass.”

“It does,” Steve finally answers, and Eddie nods.

“Okay then,” Eddie says, “now strum,” and he gets ahold of Steve’s right hand, and gets him to strum with the pick, and then lets go so Steve can do it on his own.

“This might be easier if you’d just tell me what I’m trying to play,” Steve grouches.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Eddie says, and he’s gonna keep torturing him a little longer. It’s too much fun. Annoying Steve is his favorite pastime these days. Well, second favorite, maybe.

Steve grouches, but strums the chord and it sounds good, it sounds right. Now he just needs to make the switch to the second chord, and they’ll be home free. Sort of.

“Okay, now move your top finger up to the sixth string, and your ring finger down to the third,” Eddie says, and moves Steve’s fingers to do exactly that.

Steve does it.

“Okay, strum,” and Steve does.

“Good, switch back,” Eddie instructs, and Steve fumbles a little, and Eddie knows that it’s awkward trying to get your fingers to do new things. “Go up with the top finger, and down with the bottom. Then back together, meet in the middle. And apart.”

“Feels like I’m stretching,” Steve says, lewdly.

And Eddie laughs, "You've got a dirty mind, Harrington."

“Excuse me? I'm positive that what I said was innocent. You're the one that made it about something else."

“Yes, you’re totally an innocent bystander here,” Eddie says, leaning his head against Steve’s.

Steve keeps up the switching, as Eddie talks him through it, right against his ear, “And switch, and strum. Switch, strum. Switch, strum,” Eddie says in time with what he has in mind, rhymically. “That’s it, good.”

“Good seems unlikely,” Steve grumbles, but he keeps switching and strumming.

“Keep doing that, right there, just like that, yes,” Eddie says.

“Now, that sounds dirty,” Steve sasses, and Eddie bites him on the neck. Steve jerks, yanking his elbow backwards, suddenly, making an ugly noise on the guitar strings.

In all the flailing, Steve hits their shared bottle of beer, sending it skittering off the overturned red milk crate Eddie was using as a table.

“Fuck, sorry!” Steve yells, and Eddie can tell he’s embarrassed.

“It’s fine. No reason to cry over spilt milk, er, beer in this case, I guess,” Eddie assures, hurrying and crawling over towards the foaming, shooting mess, trying to minimize the spray zone. He grabs a dirty shirt off the floor, and mops up what he can, before tossing the shirt in the vague direction of his dirty clothes hamper. “See? Fine.”

“Yeah, if you like the smell of beer in your bedroom,” Steve grumbles.

“Well, it has smelled of worse things before,” Eddie says, and he laughs when Steve wrinkles his nose.

Eddie scoots back behind him, and kisses him on the neck this time, and Steve leans into the touch instead of jumping out of his skin.

“Put your fingers back where they were,” Eddie instructs, and Steve gets the right strings, but the wrong fret. “Up one fret,” he says, and he helps slide Steve’s fingers back up where they should be.

“And a one and a two,” Eddie teases singsongingly, but Steve starts strumming and switching between the chords with more ease than before. “That’s really good, sweetheart. Now you’re cooking with gas,” Eddie says, and smiles to himself. Now he just sounds like Uncle Wayne always did while he was teaching Eddie all manner of things over the years. Guitar, cooking, how to change a flat tire.

Steve does it, his strumming hand eventually loosening up a little, and Eddie leans his face close to Steve’s.

“Okay, now for the actual strumming pattern,” Eddie says, “put your fingers on that first chord,” and Steve does it. “Great. It’s one, two, three and four. Do an up strum on the ands,” Eddie says, and he takes Steve’s hand to guide the pick across the strings, manipulating him into doing exactly what he wants him to. And then he whispers, “And switch,” and Steve does, so he says, “and switch,” again, and Steve does it, again. “And switch.”

“Stop that, you’re making me horny,” Steve says, laughing at him.

“Just now? I’ve been horny since we started,” Eddie says, pressing his whole body harder all along Steve’s back.

Steve laughs, and lulls back into Eddie, and Eddie kisses his cheek.

“Can you play that now? I’ll count.”

Steve nods, and sits up straighter again, and he fucking does. It’s stilted, and a little awkward, and fucking America, but it’s a song. The bare bones of one, but still music. This is music. He taught Steve Harrington how to play a song, and that’s still pretty wild to ponder.

“One…two…three, and…four, switch,” Eddie says softly, then repeats it when Steve switches from the E minor to the D6/9 chord, and back again. He seems to get it, so Eddie moves to the real strumming pattern.

“First chord: Down, down, up, down, up, down, up, switch,” Eddie instructs, and Steve does it, “Down, up, up, up, down, up,” and it’s a little clumsy.

“No, I think it’s up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, select, start,” Steve sasses, and Eddie laughs out loud.

Steve misses a few of the downs and ups, but he keeps repeating it, and Steve keeps strumming until he's doing it better, more reliably.

And then Eddie gets him up to full speed, increasing the pace of his instructions. Steve’s fingers aren’t totally on board, not yet, but he’s doing a pretty great fucking job for a total beginner.

“Really emphasize and feel that, up, up, up strumming on the D6/9,” Eddie suggests, and Steve does.

Then Steve stops abruptly, “Is this A Horse With No Name?” he asks, “Is that what the fuck I’m playing right now?”

Eddie cackles with delight, “It is! And you recognized it! So, you must have an excellent teacher.”

Steve laughs, and starts playing it again, better now that his ear is involved and he knows what it's supposed to sound like.

So, this time, Eddie sings in his ear instead of counting. He’s not sure he knows all the lyrics, but he makes up what he doesn’t know, and just adds a lot of la la las to fill in the blanks. It’s not exact, and there are more than a few missteps. Steve’s fingers don’t quite have this mastered yet, but he’s playing a fucking song, that’s for damn sure. So, it’s not perfect. Not at all. Not from either of them.

But it's absolutely recognizable.

It sounds fucking great to Eddie, but he knows he might be just a little bit biased.

When the song is over, Steve turns his head to look at Eddie, and Eddie leans forward to kiss him. Steve kisses him back.

He kisses him like he hasn't done it in weeks, months, and Eddie loves him for it. He loves him.

When they finally break apart, Eddie hugs him around his waist, tight.

“Look at that, my boyfriend plays the guitar now.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but says, “Okay, enough guitar lessons, time for bed.”

And Eddie’s not gonna argue with that suggestion, no way, no how.

After, when they are tangled together in Eddie’s sheets, in his room that now smells faintly of beer, Steve mutters, “That fucking song is stuck in my head, now. So, thanks a lot.”

And Eddie rolls into him, laughing uncontrollably, brushing his hand through Steve's mussed hair, pushing it back off his forehead, just like Steve likes.

The damn song is stuck in his head, too, but that’s a small price to pay. For this. For this laughter.

For this love.

I'm sure the Eddie teaches Steve to play guitar trope has been done to death, but when you're given acoustic, guitarfish and incoordination, that seems like an obvious leap to make, lol. (And a shout out to the several YouTube guitar tutorials I mashed this together from!)

Absolutely no pressure tags: @dreamwatch, @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe, @designatedgrape, @wynnyfryd & @penny00dreadful and anyone else that wants to do it! It was pretty dang fun.

And if you now want the same earworm Eddie saddled them both with, enjoy! It's good thing nobody can see what I'm listening to on Spotify, I'm sure this on repeat only alternating with Hallelujah, makes me look slightly unhinged. 🤣

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loganlermanstanaccount · 2 years ago

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EDIT: I've found one not even 5 minutes after posting lmfao! thank you guys <333

Hi! I am looking for another beta reader, specifically for my fic, Rigor Mortis! It's a Miguel O'Hara x reader, college au, and gearing up to be around 50k words! Look under the cut for more info, if you're interested xx

Things I am looking for, and why:

- Must be over 18! Due to the nature of the fic (smut and adult themes) , I'd need some sort of proof that you are not a minor (not shared with anyone, just a pic of ID with all information except birthday blacked out, and proof it's from your account).

- preferably fluent in Spanish, preferably mexican as I am looking for cultural sensitivity!

- able to read ~5k words of the fic every week or so (i am releasing chapter by chapter), and give feedback.

- Must be available over discord and have access to Google docs, as this will be the main form of communication.

the role:

~ I am not looking for an editor. You will not need to spellcheck or fix grammar; more so give feedback on the way it reads and flows. Pacing, character, story - things of that nature.

~ Similarly, I am not looking for a co-writer. There will be no expectation / obligation to write or change parts of my fic.

~ I will be asking for some spanish translations! if you are unable to read the whole thing at once, and just want to help with translations, that's completely fine! I'd just need someone to edit the Spanish already in the fic, and I'll give some direction as to its context. I am fairly clueless when it comes to translations so even just this would be a big help!

- Available to bounce ideas off of! Again, I've planned out most of the fic and I don't want to put pressure on a beta reader to come up with ideas, but I'd love to be able to communicate with someone so I know when to reel it in, and when to pump it up, y'know.

If you're up for helping me with other fics, generally, let me know as well.

any beta readers will be properly credited, but unfortunately I can't offer any money cuz I am flat broke. Just drop me a message if you're interested. Thank you!

#beta reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara #kat_thoughts🍃#I need someone to: just read my fanfic #lmfaoo #I am also unironically really annoying #so must be able to put up with my shit xx

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 2 years ago

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Hi Muffin, I have read your fanfics and think you are a great writer. I was wondering if you had any tips for improving your prose?

Well thank you, I'm glad you like my stuff.

I suppose here's what I've got for you off the top of my head.

Read Great Literature

To learn great prose, the first and easiest thing you can do is look to the best.

Young Adult is not allowed. No, seriously, it's verboten. I can list two, maybe, young adult books that have what I'd consider to be good prose and it's none of the ones people gravitate to on tumblr.

You're going to have to read the classics.

Now, who you pick is up to you, lots of great authors have very different styles and none of them are wrong. Steinbeck, for example, very purposefully writes the way he does and it works brilliantly.

I'm going to suggest two: Kafka and Nabokov. If you can stomach the material, Nabokov has the best prose, hands down, I've ever seen from an author. There are other great authors out there, but what Nabokov does with imagery, with wittiness and puns, with everything is unparalleled. Read any book by Nabokov. Kafka too, has great, surreal, imagery and particularly does extremely well things that shouldn't be natural to describe. He expertly writes scenes where he has to explain what's happening because it would not be intuitive otherwise.

Do a first pass if you're unfamiliar with the work to get the reading the story part out of the way and then go back and try to see what you thought worked, didn't work, and most importantly why it worked.

Why was X section good at a) conveying to you the reader what was happening b) sticking in your brain. Read enough and you'll start to get an idea of what you really like in prose.

Read Shitty Literature

On the other end, once you've read really good things, go and read really really bad things. Yes, I'm serious, because this is where you're going to see people who thought they knew what they were doing fall flat on their face.

Everyone makes fun of My Immortal for going above and beyond describing Ebony's outfits. What they don't mention is that half these people making fun of My Immortal make the same mistake and describe, in excruciating detail, every article of clothing their beautiful character is wearing.

Here you will see what you do not like and, again, ask yourself why it's so bad. What is it about it that just doesn't work.

This will inform you what not to do and, most importantly, that there's no hard and fast rules. I see people claim that there are "never do X", "only do X if you do Y", but I have also seen all of these rules broken masterfully in real literature and clutching to them too tightly results in prose that obviously came from this kind of draconian logic.

Find a Beta Whose Style You Like

Sit down and write something, it may not be good, but that's not important right now. Right something you really want to write, feel passionate about it, then go out and find a beta.

Specifically, find someone whose writing you want to emulate. Not just because they're popular, but because you specifically like the way they write.

Often, I see people with betas who either a) have never written themselves b) have not written much or c) they have betas whose style they don't actually like much. Betas here are great, but their limit is really spellchecking and grammar as well as general sounding board for ideas, they won't be able to help you sound the way you wish to.

With the right beta, they can help walk you through which paragraphs should be rewritten and why, and eventually you'll get an instinctive feel for where more imagery should go, less, what should be expanded on, what shouldn't, etc.

Hope this all helps.

#ask #anon #writing #writing advice #praise

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noenvyy · 1 year ago

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WIP 2023 Submission

Story Title: "Bring Me Tomorrow/Stay With Me" @wipbigbang

Fandom: MDZS/ The Untamed

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34668886/chapters/86313907

Art: Poster is made by the amazing @kingstoken

Summary: "It hadn’t taken long for the word to make its way around the cultivation world. Wei Wuxian, the Yiling patriarch, the dark individual who had cast a shadow over the collective peace of mind of all the clans had been defeated.

It was true.

Captured, beaten, stripped of his legendary weapon, Chenqing, and currently held in the dungeons of Lotus pier, the very place that he used to call his home, it seemed his reign of terror was finally coming to a close."

An AU where Wei Wuxian is captured shortly after Jin Zixuan's death. Hearing his beloved sentenced to death Lan Wangji finally has the impetus to bear his heart and confess his true feelings to Wei Ying. But what happens when new love has no time? When everything you've held precious is shattered and scattered to the winds, how do you find the will to keep going? How do you even begin to conceive of tomorrow?

Warnings: Major Character Death, Non-Con, Rape--alluded to but not explicit, Torture, Grief, Panic Attack,

Characters: Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, Jin Guangyao, Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng, Nie Huisang, Jin Guangshan, Nie Mingjue, Lan Sizhui

Pairings: Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji, Jin Guangyao/Lan Xichen, Jin Guangyao/Nie Mingjue, Implied Xicheng

When I Started: Back in the middle of the pandemic during a manic depressive episode.

How I Lost My Shit: It was just taking super long man.

How I Finished My Shit: When this year’s @wipbigbang came up, I thought, it's now or never baybeee! Gotta get this done! It's finally done, can't believe it happened. This is my first ever original fic. I started it about four years ago in the peak of the pandemic. Things were rough and dark, those days and the years ahead would see a lot of depressive lows and horrible manic highs. But through that time my sister introduced me to The Untamed and MDZS became kind of a small beacon of light. Because of that story I suddenly found the will to create art, to write again after not having done so for years.

I'm still not sure exactly how or why this fic was written only that I enjoyed the journey of it and am glad to have finally been able to finish.

To those of you who were with me from the very beginning you have absolutely NO IDEA how much your kudos and kind words and spellchecks and feedback gave me hope and light through some ridiculously tough time. In the four years of working on this fic I've struggled with mental health, gotten a diagnosis for cyclothymia, been evicted twice, had to move back with my parents who are hoarders and live in a shack, move again, get married twice once in a different country. You guys stuck with me through it all and I thank each of you from the bottom of my heart for your readership and your eternal kindness. Once again thank you to everyone who was kind enough to kudos and comment. May the grass be ever green beneath you feet, may your lifetime be full of good and wonderful stories, those you hear, those you tell and those who you experience first hand.

All my love to you all.

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sasuhinasno1fan · 2 years ago

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Wish come true - Adrien AUGreste Day 14+15

A bit late, but I was smart in asking EtherealGenie for help betaing, so there shouldn't be any spelling errors, at least not before the social media part, that I just added, so that was up to my spellcheck so fingers crossed. Also, it would actually take 6 hours for them to get to Saint Vincent Beach from Paris but for the sake of the story, we’re gonna say it takes less time. Anyway, enjoy! Passion

“No! Let me go, you can’t do this! I’m your daughter! I’m Lila Agreste!”

“Honestly Gabriel, you should have nipped this in the bud earlier. It’ll be difficult, but she’ll be disciplined and a different child by the time she comes home for break.” Tomoe said as they watched Gorilla carry the squirming girl to the red car. “My family will keep you updated. It’s laughable, how she doesn’t seem to realize how a name can’t get you far. You have to work for the respect you want.”

The designer could feel the judgment from the famed fencer. He still couldn’t understand how his daughter turned out like this. He thought back and realized times where she was caught, usually by her mother. Eventually she just got better at not getting caught and because he was so preoccupied with work or Emile’s health, he didn’t notice. Then she wanted to go to school and try her luck out there. She was quickly found out but it didn’t stop her. She kept trying to gain some attention, like something was supposed to change and nothing. And now it left her as this, a known bully who attacked a student with no motive. It took all his skills to keep the Rossi’s from suing, from having Lila removed to paying the hospital bills, and sending a check that was near 1 million euro. If he wanted any chance at saving his business, getting a new face for the company was critical. There were only so much his apologies could do. Honestly, after he got the Miraculous and got Emilie back, the business wouldn’t matter but until then, he had to focus on this, even if it meant turning his back on his daughter.

“I’ll fly with her to Japan and make sure she’s dropped off. Our security is going to meet us at the airport so your guard can stay here.” Good, Gorilla was not made for flying. “I should hope when I return that our business dealings won’t be putting my family at risk anymore.”

“Of course. Thank you again for doing this.”

Tomoe hummed before heading to the car, climbing into the passenger seat. Lila was still protesting as the car drove off.

“Master?” Nooroo asked once Gorilla had gone back inside leaving him and Nathalie on the front steps.

“Would I really not have been able to control her as an akuma? She would have been perfect.”

“But she wouldn’t want to give the wish over, even if she did know. She would be selfish. Even if she would have been your most useful or most powerful, she would have been the one you could never control.”

“Not to mention she still wouldn’t admit she stole the Peacock Miraculous.” Nathalie said.

“She didn’t have it. I couldn’t find it in any of her stuff. She might have given it away to keep it from you.” Nooroo said.

“To who? No one liked her.”

“Maybe she slipped it into a classmate’s bag. Unless Duusu came out, they wouldn’t know what it is.”

Gabriel thought of where Lila could have slipped it. one seemed the most obvious. “She must have slipped it into Rossi’s bag.”

“A-Adrien? M-Master, you can’t actually think…?”

“It makes the most sense.” Nathalie said. “She hated him and was constantly trying to get him into trouble. She left the book in the garden, no doubt because it was too big to hide away, the Peacock wasn’t. And it’s the one you want back the most. To hide it with someone who would be in bigger trouble than she’d been in would be the perfect place.”

“Um, uh, Master, I don’t think…you can’t go near him now.” Nooroo stuttered out. “Lila hurt him and his parents, they don’t want you around him. Even if he does have it, I’m sure he would have mentioned it.”

“He’s popular on Instagram, isn’t he?”

“His personal account is private, but he has a cosplay and food blog one.”

“Keep an eye on them. It might turn up.”

“But he might not even have it.” Nooroo said.

“Where else could it be? Do you know?” he ordered.

Nooroo stiffened as his ability to follow orders was triggered. “I don’t know.”

“Then we keep an eye on him. Now, what about Juleka’s contract?” he asked, heading back inside.

“Her mother has been going over it. Sir, she’s been checking everything from pay, to breaks, making sure it doesn’t interfere with her schooling and also making sure she isn’t working over a certain number of hours. You have to admit, the original contract violated a few child labour laws and she’s been spotting them like it’s nothing. In fact, she’s figured out how to get her daughter paid more.”

“Her mother? I suppose getting in trouble with the police makes it their job to drop by.”

“Actually sir…she graduated from law school.” At Gabriel’s stunned look, she continued, “Top of her class, was given the most offers after graduating but she didn’t accept any of them. Students in her class knew she had a deal with her parents to go to law school and she was allowed to do whatever she wanted after. Became a guitar player for Jagged Stone early in his career, got certified to be a ship captain, worked as a captain on a yacht for a while before becoming a freelance captain and had two kids. She knows how to get away with things because she knows the law. She’s making sure Juleka gets whatever she wants and that we legally have to give her.”

Gabriel sighed, looking to the ceiling. “The messes never end. Take care of it. If I want to fix this company, I need her.”

_____________

Adrien watched his boyfriend and Rose go over lyrics. The two were focused, Luka coming up with a melody that fit the words Rose came up with. He felt like he was watching Marc and Nath work on the newest issue. The couple had a rough start as comic partners, even after the effort of stopping Marinette from going with her idea and acting as a middle man until Marc felt confident enough, but now they were a well-oiled machine, with Nath talking Marc through his drawings and then listening intently to the script Marc came up with from that. He looked over at Marinette who was using Juleka as a model for new outfits for Kitty Section. She worked tirelessly with ease, attaching the pieces until they became a cohesive look. She was the same when sketching designs, rarely able to be disturbed. Even Ivan has his private passion with poetry. He wasn’t attempting to sing it anymore, but Mylene swore that his words had a deep meaning. He seemed calmer working on it, even when Mylene wasn’t there to read his work after. Watching everyone work on something they were passionate about made Adrien realise something. He hadn’t been doing that. Food blogging was easy but getting lost and exploring and even cosplaying had taken a back seat. He hadn’t actually worked on anything since his Queen Serenity cosplay and the feather disaster. He had a few that he wanted to work on but another thing he realized was he was bored of doing it on his own. Sometimes he was able to get his mom involved and his dad loved doing it but he had to rush off after staying in Paris while he recovered from his concussion. Very few times had he gotten friends involved. For the most part now, Nino took his photos and Marinette helped him with the more difficult outfit builds, and of course Max helped with any tech stuff like the wings. He even brightened at the challenge of making a bow and arrow for his BOTW Link, lights and all.

He wanted to do a simple cosplay and just get lost to find a place for pictures. But with his mom busy with her own job, it wasn’t like they could take a train and be back before her next meeting. He could do it by himself, but it was so much more fun getting lost with someone.

“You ok?” noticing Luka was standing in front of him, he looked and realized the others were setting up to start practicing, though Marinette was taking the time to fit everyone into their costumes in case of issues.

“Yeah, just…seeing everyone so focused on working on their favourite thing I realized I haven't been able to cosplay in a while. I just want to get lost and take pictures and fall in love with it all over again.”

“Who would you be?”

“I don’t know. I have a few thoughts but I kinda want to do a pair cosplay. Getting lost with someone is so much more fun than going by yourself.”

“Guys!”

“Let me know a few of your choices after practise, ok?” Luka asked, leaving Adrien slightly confused. Why did he want to know that?

Practice ended with them going to Marinette’s to get the last pick of the day – and get extras – before Luka walked him home. They did stop by Andre’s ice cream cart to people watch.

“So, couples cosplays. What were your choices?”

“Couple?” Adrien looked at Luka. “Where did this come from?”

“I don’t actually think I’ve seen you in cosplay, I always see the pictures after. With everything you dealt with, with Lila, you kinda deserve to get lost. Maman has so many offers to borrow a vacation house out near the Rivera. So why not take a train and get lost?”

“I don’t think our mothers will be ok with us staying the night by ourselves.” Adrien felt like pointing out, if only to distract himself. He wasn’t upset with the suggestion, not at all. He just wasn’t expecting it.

“So, we go there to change into costume and back before we head home. Look, I’ve had those times where I feel like life is pulling me away from the thing, I’m passionate the most and having the time to do those things make your life so much better and less stressful. You’ve been through a lot recently and I want to do something to help you feel better. So, what couples cosplay do you want to do?”

“You’d really do that for me?” Adrien asked. He couldn’t remember any relationship where his partner wanted to participate.

“Yes, so come on.”

“Well, it’s a tossup between Ikuto and Amu and any of the main Mermaid Melody girls and their boyfriends. You know, with your hair, you’d do a pretty good Hanon, even though your personality is a bit more like Lina’s boyfriend.”

“Think we could do two outfits?”

How did he end up with this guy? Seriously, how was he real.

“If it’s closet cosplay, sure. I really wanna dress you up as an idol though. How do you feel about ruffles? And hair pins? Can I please put hair pins in your hair? Oh wait, I need to get you to listen to all the songs, even the openings and closings, I think you might like them. Is this, ok?”

Luka couldn’t help but laugh at him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this excited in a while. You’re cute. I’m up for whatever, promise.”

Adrien couldn’t help but bounce a little. “You’re going to be the best mermaid prince idol ever. We need to stop at the cosmetic store. Hanon’s boyfriend has blue hair. I need to get temporary spray.”

“I think you’d rock blue hair.”

“In case I forget to in my excitement, thank you. really, you could have just come with me, but I’m glad you're interested in trying. I promise, I’ll make the experience awesome.”

“I can’t wait.”

_________________

@lukarockstar

A story with a selfie of Adrien and Luka, sitting in train seats. A typewriter font in the corner with ‘Heading out for shoot day!’

Another story, a video focused on Adrien sewing the last of the light blue ruffles to the cuff of a sky-blue tailcoat. ‘Look at him go’ is cantered at the bottom of the video in the same font.

@adrigatto

A post with a picture of Luka, headphones on, focused on his phone propped up by a pop socket on the table. ‘@rosieheart, I think I got @lukarockstar hooked! He’s halfway through and calling Kaito stupid for not realizing.’

Another post with several pictures and a video. The video is from Adrien’s point of view as he follows Luka off the train, panning to take in the people exiting with them and heading for the station's exit. The next is a picture of the ocean and the one after that is a selfie of Adrien and Luka, Luka’s arms wrapped around Adrien who’s holding the phone. ‘@lukarockstar and I have arrived for our Hanon and Nagisa shoot!’

@lukarockstar

A reel with Luka filming himself. With his other hand he’s holding a piece of bread. “Just a piece of advice if you ever go to a new restaurant with Adrien. If they offer to bring chips or anything like that to the table, tell them to bring it with your orders, or else you have to watch this and starve.” Luka flips the camera to focus on Adrien, who’s standing and taking overhead shots of their food. Seeing his boyfriend filming, he refocuses with a smile on his face. “Leave me alone.” the camera flips back to Luka. “You’ll be happier, trust me.”

A post with pictures of Adrien opening the door to their temporary accommodation, a small Disney princess trunk themed carry on standing next to him, the cosplays hanging up on the door and a mirror selfie of Luka as Adrien does his makeup.

A story of a reposted TikTok with Luka and Adrien, Adrien leaning on Luka with his hands on his shoulder while Luka films. He shakes his phone and when the picture settles, they’re in costume, still in the same pose. Luka has star hairpins clipped into his bangs and the sky-blue tailcoat with ruffled cuffs match the pale blue shirt and white cravat which has a Shell Locket pinned to it. Adrien’s hair is now a pale blue, not true to Nagisa’s near black hair, but in a long sleeved white striped shirt and black short sleeved shirt over it and grey eyes.

@scarcatblog

A blurry picture of the Parisan skyline with a spot of red and black in the distance. ‘Spotted today was a new spotted hero with Catseye. Caught name was Ladybird, blonde hair and spandex suit. Witnesses claim this isn’t her first time out on the streets but second, but where has Scarlet Bug gone?’

@gattocosplay

A post with pictures, first with Luka on a dock. You could see his whole outfit now, including the dark blue bow attached to the tailcoat and the white slacks tucked into pale blue Doc Martens. An E-Pitch microphone is in hand as well. The first 3 photos are of Luka on the dock, either looking at the camera or of a profile of him. The next two are of him and Adrien by a rock wall. First is Luka sitting on it, looking down at Adrien who stood staring up at him between his legs. The next is Adrien dipping Luka as the two stare at each other. The one after that is on the sand, both holding ice creams, which are pressed against each other as the two share a kiss. The last two are close ups, one with Luka pressing a kiss to Adrien’s cheek and the last of them sharing the microphone, as if singing together. There’s a video at the end of Adrien and Luka by the rock wall. Adrien is trying to dip Luka, but Luka leans back too far and both go falling to the sandy ground, laughing when their attempts to stop fail. ‘Our Mermaid Melody shoot was a success! This was @lukarockstar ‘s first time cosplaying and I think we can agree he did amazing. Close up shots of the finished cosplay and more pictures and BTS coming soon!’

@hungrygatto

Pictures of their food from La Treille Tapas and a perfect shot of the ice cream used in the shoot, and a selfie of Luka and Adrien eating their ice cream. ‘A trip to Saint Vincent Beach means food fit for the seaside. Shared a traditional plate with jamon, cheeses and pain con tomate and 2 drinks. Altogether, no more than 25 euro. The ice cream was from a nearby passing cart, 3 euro each. I got passion fruit and @lukarockstar got mint chocolate chip. Very good, but melts very quickly. Already want to come back for a deeper dive.’

@lukarockstar

Story with a picture of Adrien, back on the train, asleep on Luka’s lap. The added gif of a cat sleeping tells all it needs. The next picture of the story is of Adrien as Nagisa sitting on the stairs, looking off camera. ‘He’s amazing’ is written in the corner in the same typewriter font.

#adrien august #Adrien AUGreste 2023

6 notes · View notes

samuelroukin · 3 months ago

Note

hi dear! it is me once again. in the second chapter of fægge, it is written "He does not not need to think about slipping under the desk and between Ghost’s thighs."

the doubled nots change the meaning significantly

anyway. enjoying this chapter very very very much. don't feel bad about this one slip or I'll take a plane to minecraft realm and knock some sense into you!! >:c

OOF a bad one and showing how much i rely on spellcheck to catch me because i repeat words (words) so many times lmao thank u for catching that and letting me know 🙏🙏🙏 also minecraft realm dkfjjkshghs

#fr my word count would be double what it is if i didn't have languagetool going 'u repeated a word. again. dumbass' 💀#now if it'd help me when i Forget a word too... i'd be set #anon #asks

0 notes

emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago

Text

Vulnera Sanentur [Weasley twins x Reader]

Part 2

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Title: Vulnera Sanentur

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley {established relationship}

Timeline: DH1- set during the battle of the seven potters. Canon and certain plot points have been altered for the needs of the story.

Summary: The battle of the seven Potters throws your world into chaos when one of your boyfriend’s is cursed. As Snape’s ex-potions assistant and previous protégée, you recognise the inflicted curse immediately and demand answers from your mentor.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of war and Voldy, descriptions of injury and blood, descriptive smut, p in v sex, shower sex, tension. None sexual nudity. Crying. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Arguments. Probably some cursing. Mentions of nightmares. Reader is part of the Order of the Phoenix. Mentions of death (Dumbledore). Mentions of Tonks’ pregnancy. Not spellchecked nor beta read, we die like Madeye.

"Harry! Hagrid!" Molly calls out as you all run outside to inspect the noise, wand already extended in your hand as you sense a disquiet, seeing just Harry and Hagrid stumbling towards the house, both looking defeated, drenched and downcast. You felt sick to your stomach at seeing only them return, with no sign of anyone else and no sign of your two boyfriends you were certain that something had gone wrong. "What happened? Where are the others?"

A tense silence falls between you all that seems to linger for hours, though in reality it was mere seconds. Harry's face tells you everything you need to know, his eyes wide and pained as he looks at Ginny in horror.

"Is no one else back?"

"They we're on us right from the start Molly," Hagrid says, clutching his driving goggles in his hand, wringing them instinctively out of nervous habit, "we didn't stand a chance."

You feel a sob rise up in your chest but you push it down, needing to keep yourself strong, not only for yourself but for Molly and Ginny too. Your eyes close on their own accord and you try your hardest to ground yourself, breathing deeply, knowing that Fred and George were strong and capable, though you were terrified regardless.

"Well, thank goodness you two are alright," Molly says in a way that only a mother could. You daren't cast a glance in her direction, already foreseeing the worry and pain that would no doubt be etched upon her face at the news.

"The Death Eaters were waiting for us, it was an ambush," he says trailing off as Molly guides him into the house. You understood that he needed to inform her of what happened but you couldn't help but frown at his uncharacteristic insensitivity. From your peripheral vision, you see Ginny and Harry make their way over to each other and you have to look away, suddenly feeling very out of place. You wrap your arms around yourself, the chill of the night air nipping at your bare arms as you were dressed in only a sundress as you walk back towards the house, needing to find something to keep you occupied to stop your mind from spiralling.

"Ron and Tonks should already be back now, dad and Fred too," she says quietly. You can feel her gaze linger on you for a moment as she says Fred's name and once again you feel something rising up into your chest as you pass the threshold of the house, though you were unsure if it was a sob or bile that threatened to escape.

You walk into the lounge and feel out of place once again, suddenly feeling like you were outside your own body with the worry that gnawed at you, consuming you entirely.

Just then you heard shouts from outside and barely had time to move when you saw a sight that would be ingrained into your mind for the rest of your life.

"Oh my boy," you hear Molly say, though it's distorted and grainy as you are frozen to the spot, dissociated from your own mind and body. You watch in utter horror as Lupin and Harry drag a blood covered, limp George through the door and carry him over to the sofa. Blood is pouring from the side of his head, his clothes already soaked in crimson liquid that makes your stomach lurch. He looks pale and tired, his eyes closed as they place him down onto the sofa. Molly immediately rushes over to him, stroking his hair out of his face as you stand there in complete horror, unable to move or react as you look at your injured boyfriend.

"Y/n," he says in a raspy, groggy voice that tugs at your heartstrings fiercely.

Suddenly, like you'd been snapped back to reality, you rush over to your boyfriends side and kneel down in front of him, delicately reaching out for his blood covered hand as you whisper his name. A sob escapes you as you feel him weakly squeeze your hand three times, acknowledging your words and presence. It was your way of secretly communicating, had been for years, the secret and silent way of saying 'I love you, I'm here for you', that only you and George would know. Tears build in your eyes as you look at him though you fight through them, knowing now is not the time. George needed you and you'd be there for him in anyway he needed.

You hear the shouts and arguing from the group beside you but you hardly even blink, not taking your focus off of George as you gently stroke your thumb over his hand. You immediately cast a summoning charm for the muggle first aid kit you'd packed and it rushes into your hands as you unlatch it and begin sifting through the contents with shaking hands. Finding a suitable gauze, you remove the wrapper and place it in your hand, keeping it ready.

"Georgie," you say quietly with a squeeze of his hand to get him to listen to you, "I'm going to try and numb the pain okay, I'll try everything I can but I need to stop the bleeding."

He squeezes your hand weakly just once, as if showing you that he was listening and giving you consent to try and help. Lifting your wand, you cast a strong numbing spell to the area and hold your breath for a tense moment, hoping that it had worked.

His ear was almost completely missing on that side, only a tiny bit of cartilage remained, framing a large hole that was pouring with blood. There was a large gash that looked to split the skin that looked familiar but you couldn't place how or what would have caused this.

"Georgie, can you feel that? Has it eased?" You ask nervously and finally exhale when he nods just once, the corners of his mouth raising a little as he clearly feels the relief.

"I'm going to hold this compress to the side okay, you'll feel the pressure but it shouldn't hurt anymore okay? I need to stop the bleeding."

"Okay nurse," he says groggily and you can't help but huff a laugh, tears welling once again in your eyes as he starts to become himself once again. You lean forward and press a kiss to his knuckles before reaching over and begin pressing the gauze to the side of his head with as much pressure as is needed, never breaking your gaze between the wound and his face, watching carefully for any sign of pain. He doesn't wince nor cry out which is a good sign that the strong numbing spell has worked and you keep yourself pressed to him, trying desperately to stop the blood flow, not caring that your own hands and clothes were already covered in blood. Molly never moves from the spot and continues stroking George's hair as you set to work.

You pull the gauze away a few minutes later, seeing in completely flooded with blood, though as you look at the affected area where George's ear used to be, you can see that the blood has stopped pouring out but had not fully stopped, falling to a slow trickle that you knew needed to be dealt with soon. You pull the gauze away and prepare another just incase but for now you let the wound breathe, trying to think of your next move.

You hear Remus calm down and pull away from Harry, only to rush off outside as soon as he hears the telltale sign of someone apparating.

You pray it's Fred and Arthur, feeling like half of your heart was still gone and very much in danger but right now George had to be the focus.

In the back of your mind you hear a few more apparitions and only when a familiar sight enters your peripheral vision do you look up.

Fred.

You couldn't bring yourself to fully smile at him, not with George in such a way but the relief you felt was all consuming, a single tear escaping your eyes as he looks at you and then turns his focus to George. He moves like he's being pulled by an invisible string as he makes his way to the couch, absently placing his wand onto the coffee table before kneeling down beside you, between yourself and Molly. His hand instinctively reaches out for you as he pulls you into his embrace, tucking your head into the spot between his chin and his chest that you so perfectly fit into. You don't have any words, but somehow you can wordlessly communicate everything you were both feeling through your eyes, the slight tremble in both of your hands are enough of a clue to work out exactly how the other was feeling. He never truly lets go of you even as you pull away, reaching out to hold onto your hip as he turns and looks at his pale, injured twin.

"How you feeling Georgie?" Fred says quietly, his emotions evident in his trembling voice.

"Saint-like," you hear George mumble and you can't help but look at him with a small smirk, seeing exactly where it was going.

"Come again?" Fred asks, completely bewildered.

"Saint-like. I'm holy. I'm holey Fred," he says, gingerly lifting his hand to point at the wound on the side of his head. "Get it?"

You and Molly share a look, a small but meaningful smile, both of you relieved that he was already making jokes.

Not missing a beat, Fred licks his lips and shakes his head slightly in disbelief. "The whole wide world of ear related humour and you go for 'I'm holy', that's pathetic," he smiles.

"Reckon I'm still better looking than you," George replies, opening his eyes just a little as they flick between Fred and yourself, "what'd'ya think Angel?" He smirks, looking at you. You laugh and reach out for his hand once again.

"I don't pick favourites," you say with a smile, calling back to your usual reply, "you're both perfect to me."

Fred drops his head onto your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck subtly at the very same time that George squeezes your hand three times once more, his eyes staying open just long enough for you to see a glimmer of happiness. It wasn't the outcome you were hoping for, not by a long shot, but you were so relieved that they were both alive, here with you.

"What gave you away?" Kingsley says to Harry.

"Hedwig, I think. She was trying to protect me," he says with a sigh.

"You know who joined the chase halfway but vanished pretty quickly. Remus he can-" Kingsley says, turning to Lupin.

"Fly," Harry says, filling in the blanks. An unease settled around you all as you listen to the conversation.

"Seems there's been another mass breakout the ministry are keeping hushed. Travers' hood fell when I cursed him, he's supposed to be inside."

"Not the only one that lost his hood then," Remus says sounding venomous, "wish I'd paid him back in kind for that nasty curse but it was all I could do to keep George on the broom, he was losing so much blood."

"Him?" You asked, finally speaking to the larger group at the conversation peaked your interest. If you knew what curse had befallen George, you'd have a greater ability to heal the wound. The words that fell from Remus' mouth were the very last words you expected, a paralysing anger overcoming you at the reveal.

"Snape."

Suddenly, the gash of George's head all made sense. It had looked familiar right away but you couldn't place the unique mark. Only when Remus had explained who has cast such a curse did it all add up in your mind. Snape. Sectumsempra. The very same curse you'd seen Malfoy slashed apart with.

Channelling your overwhelming anger into something temporarily productive, you immediately sprang into action, standing up with such force that you nearly knocked Fred to the ground. You leapt over to your bag and began rifling through it only to become frustrated after not finding what you wanted immediately, knowing that time was of the essence.

"Accio Dittany!" You said, pointing your wand at the bag as the vial shot straight to the top.

Knowing what curse had been used was crucial to the treatment needed, especially if the curse was particularly nasty or uncommon and thankfully you had witnessed an effective incantation that would counter the worst of the injury. The incantation itself was very old and powerful magic, which made you momentarily doubt your capabilities, but this had to work so there was no room for doubt nor time for hesitation.

You bounded over to George who was watching you with confused eyes, as no doubt everyone else was in the room as you knelt down beside him once again. You thrust the essence of dittany into Molly's hands, wordlessly explaining what she should do and with a feverish nod, she understood. You closed your eyes briefly, took a deep breath to steady yourself and began pointing your wand at George's wound, following the lines of the gash carefully, never breaking your concentration as you spoke clearly and evenly, the required song like incantation.

"Vulnera Sanentur, vulnera sanentur, vulnera Sanentur."

You'd observed Snape recite the incantation three times and had read later as you researched what had happened that it was most effective when recited thrice. The first incantation immediately stopped the blood flow before your eyes, the second cleaned and drew away a lot of the blood that littered his skin. Like a magical eraser, the lines you drew with your wand were extinguishing the blood exactly where you pointed, cleaning George of nearly all the blood, leaving only the indirect bloodstains on his clothes. You nodded once towards Molly, never breaking your deep concentration on George and she immediately began placing droplets of dittany over the lines you drew as you spoke out one last incantation.

The third time you had spoken the words in the song like incantation, the wound knitted before your eyes, sealing up the gashes and leaving George with only a singular hole where his ear had been, though it was clean and mostly healed. The dittany would help prevent scarring but there was nothing you could do to replace his ear, knowing that cursed limbs cannot be restored no matter how hard you tried.

With one last precise drag of your wand, you closed up the last inch, with Molly dripping one last droplet of dittany onto the newly knitted skin. As the last syllable fell from your mouth and the last invisible stitch ended, you broke your fixed gaze and fell back onto your haunches, exhausted and panting. You eyes closed instinctively, burning slightly as you’d not blinked the entire time, as you fought to regain the energy you'd emitted as you worked on the wound, having pulled something from inside you that you hadn't even realised was there.

"That, that was incredible," Remus says in amazement after a moments silence, clearly having observed the entire thing. You huffed out a tired laugh, eyes still closed as you took a moment longer to catch your breath.

"I've never seen," Kingsley says, though he doesn't finish his sentence, or perhaps he does and you no longer listen as the redhead beside you begins speaking.

"Princess, y/n, that was spectacular, you, I," Fred stammers, leaning into you as if to comfort you in your exhausted state. "You're a wonder."

You open your eyes and immediately see George looking at you with such a face of adoration that it makes a silent sob build up in your chest. His ear may be gone but the wound already looks as if it was weeks old, knitted and healed in all the right places with only a hint of redness that you were sure would fade.

"Madeye's dead," you hear Bill say behind you and you all turn to look at him with sorrowful eyes, the tone immediately dropping as you realise that you hadn't all made it back. "Mundungus took one look at Voldemort and disapparated."

You rested your head tiredly against George's thigh and never moved from your exact spot on the floor for what seemed to be hours, not even when everyone else was raising a glass of fire whiskey for Moody and then tucking into the feast that Molly had prepared, you stayed right by George's side as he rested.

Remus and Bill had helped move him into his and Fred's old bedroom and had set him up in bed so that he could rest properly. His equilibrium had been severely messed with from his injury and he was suffering with the effects of that. You'd given him a mild sleeping potion that would allow his body to rest as it continued to heal and you'd stayed with him the entire time, not once leaving his side.

"Princess, come get some food," Fred says, leaning against the doorframe, trying to get you to eat but you couldn't, you were sick to your stomach over the events that had transpired, not able to get the sight and smell of George's blood out of your mind. You shook your head and stroked your thumb gently against George's hand that was still entwined with your own as he slept. You feel the bed move as Fred joins you, placing his arm around you as you lean into him, both of you looking at a peaceful George.

"What you did back there," Fred says quietly, "I've never seen anything like that, that was insanely powerful magic, even Lupin said so, you saved him. But now you need to let me take care of you sweetheart, please."

His tone was enough for you to look at him, seeing his hazel green eyes imploring you. You eventually nodded, realising that he was right.

"I'll get mum to come sit with him, if it makes you feel better."

"No need, I'm already here," Molly says from the doorway and you huff out a small laugh as she shuffles into the room with a smile, waving both you and Fred away as she takes your place on the bed.

"Y/n," she says quietly as you begin to exit through the door, casting one last look at George. You pause and Fred instinctively drops your hand from his so that's you can have a minute with his mum as he sets off ahead of you.

"What you've done for my boy, for both of the them, there are no words that I can use to express my gratitude," she says with a sniff.

"Molly," you say, turning back towards her but she just gives you a smile and a little shake of her head.

"I love your sons, more than anything in the world and I'd give my life for them without a moments hesitation. I'd do the same for all of you."

You turn and walk away, preparing to descend the stairs but a hand reaches out for you before you can and you see Fred standing there, pulling you up the flight of stairs with only a wink.

He ushers you into the bathroom and closes the door behind you, swiftly locking it with a flick of his wand as you look at him confused.

"Sweetheart, I mean this with all the love I can muster: you're a mess," he says, eyes looking over at your blood soaked skin and clothes. "Let's get you cleaned up okay? Then we'll get something to eat and we can go and sit with Georgie again yeah?"

You nod, feeling too tired and weak to argue and you see Fred smile at you as he makes his way over to you before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into his chest. "I've wanted this all night."

Guilt suddenly washes over you as you realise how much you'd prioritised George all night and had never truly greeted Fred.

"Don't do that," he says, no doubt picking up on your slight tensing and overall silence. "I more than understand, right? But now it's just you and me and I want to hold my future wife, shower together and wash away the day. That sound good to you princess?"

You nod into his chest and feel him press a kiss to your hair before pulling away to start the shower.

A little wiggle of shame fills you as you think about your shower with George just this morning and how uncomplicated everything was only a few hours ago.

"Can I?" Fred says, tugging at the little straps of your sundress and you nod in reply, allowing him to strip you out of the ruined fabric. This was unusual for Fred, usually he would tease and joke and wouldn't think twice about stripping you down as quickly as he could but not right now, he knew exactly what you both needed and he was being incredibly thoughtful and delicate. You stepped out of the dress as it pooled at your feet and Fred reached around delicately to undo the clasp on your bra, fingers lingering on your skin as he pulled your bra away from your body. There's nothing sexual to it, it's completely and utterly an act of compassion and solitude for you to be undressed together, metaphorically washing away the day.

You finally caught the sight of your reflection in the little mirror above the sink and we're shocked at what you saw. You were naked from the waist up and dried blood seemed to cover your hands, arms and your chest with splatter marks even creeping up onto your face. You looked like something from an awful budget slasher film and the very thought that this was George's blood only seemed to sicken you further.

Fred had gotten undressed as you zoned out looking at your reflection and led you by the hand into the shower, guiding you under the stream of warm water, both of you watching at the scarlet tint washed off your skin and culminated in the drain, spiralling with the waters flow as it washed away.

Your head drops as the emotions of the day overwhelm you, feeling no need nor desire to pretend any longer that you were okay, hidden away with Fred knowing that George was safe and looked after.

Tears brimmed in your eyes making your vision go blurry as the emotional weight of the day overcame you, from having to leave your loved ones this morning, the excruciating weight, the worry and then the pain at seeing George so injured. The tears fell and you were powerless to stop them. Fred immediately pulled you into him, taking the brunt of the shower stream as he cradled you, allowing you to cry in his arms. In the back of your mind you could feel his chest heaving as he let out his own emotions as both of you stood taking in everything that had happened and getting relief from your torment.

"I was so scared," he says a few minutes later as you both finally stop crying, the height of your emotions passing as you still cling to each other. You turn slightly in his arms to look up at his face, his eyes sad and a little red, hair stuck to his face as the water cascades around him. "All I could think of was you. They were all over us, they knew we were coming and all I could think of was that I'd never gotten the chance to propose or marry you like I've always wanted, that I might never get to spend my life with you. I thought of George and how we'd never been apart, and then he was hurt and I was scared again."

You placed your hand on his chest, trying to soothe him in any way you could as he opened up to you.

"We said earlier, spoke about what would happen if one of us didn't make it back, that we'd give you everything that you could ever want, for both of us. Stupid me didn't even realise how close we came to that. I must be the worst twin in the world, didn't even know he'd gotten hurt."

His tone was so sad and stricken that it made you pause for a moment as you looked up at him with sad eyes. Fred was very rarely serious and even in serious times he always tried to make a joke or tease, just to lighten the mood and diffuse the tension. Seeing him so broken and morose without a hint of laughter was almost physically painful for you and you cuddled into him stronger than before, wordlessly letting him know you were there and you were listening.

"You had every right to be scared, I'd have been terrified. Seeing George being carried in, covered in blood... I don't think I'll ever stop seeing it."

He strokes your back slowly as you both vent to one another and you cast your gaze downwards to see that the water is running clear again, no sign of blood left over.

"When you didn't come back," you began to say but trailed off quickly, not wanting to relive it. "I'm just so thankful you're both here with me."

"Can't get rid of me, remember?"

For the first time, you hear the smirk in his voice and it soothes something inside you to hear it once again, knowing that the worst was over and your jokester boyfriends would be back with you soon enough.

"I love you Freddie," you say, pulling out of his arms and looking up into his eyes, needing to feel the force of the connection. He smiles down at you and reaches up to stroke your cheek.

"Not as much as I love you princess," he says, tucking a wet strand of hair behind your ear. "Right, don't know about you sweetheart but I'm half starved, shall we get something to eat and go sit with Georgie?"

Later that night, the house was in total darkness as each family member and guest turned in early for the night, exhausted from the day. Snores bounced off the walls and blended like a symphony from the various people that littered the Burrow. You were wide awake, lay tightly beside Fred in his childhood single bed as George slept on the other, needing the space for his injury. After your shower with Fred you did feel noticeably better, the conversation had been incredibly cathartic and freeing, though you couldn't deny that something bitter and resentful lingered in your gut, swirling like a obscurus inside of you.

Betrayal and anger had been simmering under the surface for hours, ever since you learnt of the person who had cursed your boyfriend.

You knew what you needed to do.

Climbing deftly out of bed as not to rouse the two men occupying the room, you slipped out of the bed and into the hall, dropping down a staircase to avoid the creaky floorboards on Fred and George’s level, feigning a trip to the loo if anyone would be there to question you. Luckily for you, no one was and so you quickly dressed on the landing, preparing for your journey. You wrote a quick note to your boyfriends and with a flick of your wand, it transformed into a small origami bird that flew up the stairs and would enter their bedroom through the little crack in the door, ready for them to see if they should wake before you returned.

Slipping out of the house was not an easy feat as Hagrid lay sleeping on the floor of the lounge, too large to fit on the sofas and so you quietly uttered a silencing charm in a bubble around yourself and crept through the back door, walking carefully until you were well past the threshold of the house and then falling into a full blown sprint until you reached the tall grass where you could apparate from.

With a loud clack you were gone.

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