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#fic: dear george
spectres-fulcrum · 3 months
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I did a thing today! I made the Isaac Potts House in the Sims 4. This was the house that was George Washington's headquarters at Valley Forge in winter of 1777-1778. I've been wanting to build it for ages and it's Gwash's birthday so I finally did. I like to think, sometimes about all the things the walls of this house saw. Hamilton and Laurens kissing, probably. Maybe more. A hundred mornings of the aides laughing. Lafayette coming to talk endlessly with Washington. The boys meeting Martha and everyone welcoming Von Steuben.
I'm actually SUPER proud of the recreation. From the front it looks really good. But pure honesty, things don't translate perfectly in the Sims. Some things you have to go "this doesn't look good in the Sims. Am I going for accuracy or prettiness or the vibes?" Or some things just don't work(More on that under the cut). (Oh and the small bedroom is the bedroom Lams shared in Duty and Inclination I know it's not official but like. Lams bedroom sharing)
This shell is CC free but does use a fair amount of packs cause I was going for accuracy. It's up on my gallery, ID Minimoon46, though. I can say Castle Estates is just for outdoor stair railings on the back and sides of the house so super easy to download without CE
Like the kitchen. If I wanted to attach it, I couldn't put it on the ground, it had to be on the same foundation level and tbh I LOVE the look of the stone archway tunnel so we had to deal with a raised kitchen and stairs. (or the entire house could've been on a platform but that would've been ASKING for bugs)
Also the windows of the Aide-de-camp's office are so off. But the other shuttered windows seem so small and I wanted to go larger windows so we lost the traditional panes and white shutters but the vibes fit better. The little hanging over the front door looked horrible so I was like nope you're not getting included. It would've needed to be an actual porch to get included.
Inside it's mostly a shell but what details are there I got from the virtual tours online. I took liberties with a wallpaper that I liked better that purely plain white walls but the floor should be decent. I gave each room a door and a fireplace of a semi accurate color(I wanted to make them uniform) in appearance. I cut the attic bedroom though.
I kinda want to furnish it but also not sure HOW. Do I furnish it like the current one? Do I just do it for fun? A regular home? A big shared study and a dining room? It would be a waste to furnish TWO studies. What about bathrooms? The kitchen would be more modern though ngl. (Would people be interested in a furnished version? Any ideas?)
There's something about this house that I just want to see in person and feel the air knowing that... they were there. Like in that tiny house, they lived and loved and were real people. And there's no place where that feeling fills me more than the IPH. Maybe one day.
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xiaoluclair · 11 months
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you are a sweetheart and you see good in almost all pairings i guess, but your soft spot is by whom? Sorry I can't contain my curiosity
asking me this after i giffed that oscar/alex interview... making me toe a line, nonsie!
that being said, you can pry lestappen from my cold dead hands. and even then good luck.
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queenofpurgatoryx · 1 year
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do you honestly want me to believe that neither charlotte nor george was aware of what was going on with reynolds and brimsley???
like it was not shown explicitly but i believe george trusts and loves reynolds. they seem pretty close. he would notice discreed looks and brief smiles. because reynolds is always very put together and the only time he is slightly not, brimsley is around.
and yeah charlotte might be too focused on her own dramas but brimsley is her right handman, and that woman loves a great love story. no one can tell me that she was not rooting for them.
like i'm 99% sure that;
*george and charlotte sometimes goes to bed early bc the yearning looks brimsley and reynolds are giving to each other is too much and they just wanna end their misery
*whenever charlotte and george is disagreeing on something, brimsley and reynolds are also having an argument and vice versa
*charlotte and george definietly orders bunch of wine and grapes to their room and then are like "we are going to sleep, take these wine and grapes yourselves they do not need to go to waste" and than they are very smug about it
*whenever george need relationship advice he goes to reynolds and reynolds will give these advices with such adoration in his eyes to the point george is also extremly fond of brimsley
*on the other hand while Charlotte actually likes reynolds, she is also a little jeloaus of brimsley's affection bc he is very dear to her
*when charlotte is angry at brimsley, she makes sure reynolds is too busy to spend time with him and that is the worst punishment
*ofc its very very unofficial and kept as a secret but charlotte and george trust brimsley and reynolds take care of their kids and they are like their godfathers and the kids love them
the list goes on. i am just very sure about these things, i just wish we got to actually see it. someone write some fics about Charlotte and george knowing and rooting for brimsley x reynolds pls
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emeritusemeritus · 3 months
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overstimulation and breeding with the twins? ive read both of your brat-taming fics and I’m just on the edge of my seat i swear to god. your writing hits me so differently. 🫣
My dear Anon, you clearly know the way to my heart. You ask, I provide the completely sinful smut, enjoy! 🖤
Warnings: where do I even start? Smut, graphic smut, piv, oral (m receiving). Fingering. Breeding link, pregnancy kink, possessiveness, overstimulation, cum play. Polyamory, two boyfriends, excessive mention of pregnancy.
Word count: 1.2k
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"Fuck!" You cry out, the only full word able to slip past your lips for at least the last hour, mind empty and unable to speak as you lie with your body and face pressed into the mattress, hips held up by two very strong hands as their cock thrusts deep inside you from behind. Their names had been lost long ago as had your ability to distinguish between them as they fuck into you one after the other, over and over.
It's been hours, your legs cramping, vision blurry with unshed tears and your pussy drenched in both your cum and theirs. There's so much, so many loads that your pussy can't possibly hold another drop, filled completely to the brim as it starts to freely drip down your legs, your own arousal mixing with their cum to create a pool between your hips where it's dripped and soaked the bedsheets.
"Fuck that's it princess, so fucking good for us," the voice behind you says as his fingers grip into your hips, undoubtedly leaving finger prints shaped bruises in their wake. He lazily fucks up into you, watching as his cock slips in and out of you, your drenched and abused hole still readily accepting him, pulling him in. He gives a few different thrusts, watching as your ass jiggles for him with each amount of force, a sharp gasp escaping you when he hits that one special spot inside you.
The noise is obscene, the squelch as he pulls out, your overfilled pussy dripping around his cock as he tries to fill you again. You've lost count of how many times they've cum inside you, how many times your cunt has clenched around them as they play you like an instrument, a fuck toy.
"That's it sweetheart, fuck you're doing so good," he says slightly breathless, thrusts increasing as he approached his climax again.
"You want another load princess? Think this will be the one? Going to look so fucking pretty all knocked up. Everyone will know exactly who you belong to, know you fucks you just right.”
The other brother steps in front of you then, semi-hard cock directly in line with your face as he renders reaches for your chin. You don't wait for instruction, already knowing what he wants as you open your mouth ready for him.
"That's it Angel, get me hard for you again."
You want to moan at his praise but you can't, your throat scratchy and voice weak after the screams they'd ripped out of you earlier in the night. His cock tastes of you, of your cum and his mixed together as you eagerly lap it up, sucking as good as you can as his twin pounds you from behind. His cock hardens against your tongue as you eagerly suck, taking him as deep as you can as he moans and groans above you.
"Fuck princess, gonna fill you up again, gonna knock you up, oh you'll look so fucking beautiful all round and swollen with us." His hips snap against yours with a newly renewed vigour as you fight not to choke on the cock gliding past your lips. George, you think it's George, pulls out of your mouth just in time for Fred to slam his hips into you one last time, holding you tightly to him as his cock twitches and spurts inside you. You cry out, completely overstimulated as your increasingly sore pussy accepts his load, his cock so deep and pressed against your cervix tightly that you can't keep still, the sensation too overwhelming, verging on painful. He's so big, you're so full.
When he pulls out you can't help but whine, feeling the loss of his cock and a flood of cum escaping your little hole as George quickly swaps places with his twin, immediately reaching up with two fingers to fuck the cum back into you, not letting any slip out.
"That's it Angel keep it all in for us, need you to keep this if you want us to give you a baby."
"Think you can take me one last time?" He asks, absently fucking you with his fingers. You can almost hear the smirk in his voice, the pleasure he's taking from watching you whine and moan, fucked out and rendered dumb.
"Can't," you manage to say, already overstimulated and unable to take anymore. When his hand slips over your bum cheek and underneath you, tentatively reaching out to glide his middle finger through your drenched folds until he makes contact with your swollen nub, you cry out desperately, hips falling onto the bed in exhaustion.
"One more sweet girl, give us one more," he says, circling your numb with perfect precision, the exact right amount of pressure and on the spot that makes your eyes roll back in your head. It's verging on painful, body overused and over fucked but it still feels so good, so fucking good.
"Gonna let me in Angel? Let your man give you what you need? Hmm?" He says, using his other hand to grab for your waist as he slips over you, knowing you can't hold yourself up anymore. You nod, face stuffed into the pillow to muffle your cries but he suddenly pulls his hand away, ghosting it over the red flesh of your bum cheek.
"Need to hear it Angel, you want your man to knock you up? Want me to breed you?"
"Please, please!" With the last bit of energy you had, you cry out desperately, trying everything to roll your hips back so that the thick head of his cock that is pressed dangerously close to your opening can slip in.
He pushes in finally and you bite down onto the pillow, pushing through the walls of exhaustion and overstimulation as he begins fucking you roughly. His hand slips underneath you to toy with your little swollen nub and in no time at all your soaring towards your orgasm, walls clenching around him. You need him to cum, to cum with you.
"Fuck that's it! Cum for me Angel, cum for me whilst I fill you up.”
You shatter the moment your orgasm crests, unable to cry out, unable to speak. You’re past the point or exhaustion and overstimulation but somewhere in the back of your mind you register George cumming one last time. You’ve been so thoroughly fucked that your mind is entirely blank, only visions of them cumming in you over and over again repeating in your mind.
“Think it’ll be twins?” George says, flopping onto the bed beside you as he slowly catches his breath, stroking your hair as his twin joins you on the, frankly destroyed, bed. You can’t even lift your head to look at them, nor mutter a reply.
“Reckon it will be a whole quidditch team with how much cum she’s got in her,” Fred says, reaching out to draw soothing lines up and down your spine as your eyes close, the exhaustion finally overtaking you.
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fangisms · 10 months
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all of the girls you loved
A/N: i am a SUCKER for a good song fic and obvi a sucker for some good Taylor content (gif creds: @merakiaes)
Pairings: George Weasley x Fem!Reader
Summary: Every woman that he knew brought him here. You want to teach him how forever feels. 2.6k words.
Warnings: so much crying why am i in a mood, fluff mostly!, song fic, song lyrics, pet names (poppet, dear), heartbreak, brief angst, ONE FUCKING CURSE WORD. jealousy, being stood up
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1984
"your mother brought you up loyal and kind"
You'd been chasing the little red haired boy through the train station for the better part of the last ten minutes. But only because he tugged at your hair and stuck his tongue out at you. He started it. He's got this worn grey sweater, and you can tell his jeans were hand-me-downs from the patchwork in the knees. Probably from the boy, his older brother, with the wavy red hair carrying far too many books and stumbling up the train's steps.
Your antagonist giggles and ducks behind the brick pillar in the center of the station. You roll your eyes and round the otherside, tapping on his shoulder with a grin. He yelps and skitters away behind his mother. She has a small baby tucked in her arm and another cooing from a pram decorated with ribbons, lace, and wicker.
"Georgie!" She scolds him for tugging on her skirt before looking down to see your little face staring back at her. "Hello, dear, what's your name?"
The boy peeks his head out from behind her leg, round cheeks flushed a soft pink from all the running. You fold your arms over your chest and scowl at him.
"Determined little thing, aren't you?" she says with a sweet smile and kind eyes, "Have you been terrorizing this young lady?"
"It's not my fault, mum! She looks funny!"
"George. That's not how we talk about other people, now, is it?" she warns.
"No, mum."
"No, of course it's not. Now, you apologize this instant. Your brothers give me enough grief as is."
His wicked gaze meets yours, and you scowl hard as you can back at him. He squints. You purse your lips.
"I'm sorry because my mum told me so!"
You pout, "apology not accepted! I hope I never see you again!"
And with that, he watched the little girl with the wild hair and the polka-dotted pinafore skip away. Never to be seen again. Until the next year. And each year following the last.
1994
"teenage love taught you there's good in goodbye"
George has got a mouth full of the loudest bubblegum in existence when he comes roaring up behind you in the hallway, laying his arm across your shoulders.
"Evening, poppet. I assume you've heard the news," he chirps, smacking his gum in your ear proudly.
"You're disgusting, George," you say, shrugging his arm away but still matching his pace, "and I don't care that you bribed Niamh Ward into being your date to the Yule Ball."
"I didn't bribe her! She asked me and I said 'yes'"—he blows a gummy bubble in your face, and it bursts with a ringing pop—"D'you reckon she'll kiss me if I dance well enough?"
He twirls off down the hallway, ending his mini routine with a flourish of jazz hands.
"I don't reckon any girl will ever want to kiss you with moves like that."
"Oh, you're just a cynic. I'm perfectly snoggable, whether I can dance or not." He takes your wrist and drapes your arm in the crook of his own, and you scoff when he leans in to pop another bubble in your face. "Who's taking you to the ball, anyway? That Durmstrang halfwit?"
You yank your arm away and stop dead in your tracks. It's a well-known fact that you'd been waiting for George to ask you to the Yule Ball since first year. You thought for sure he'd ask you. But the time came and went and you each found other dates, other outfits, other plans. And you hate that deep down, a small part of you is still waiting for him to ask you. But you'd never do that to Niamh. Not even for George.
"As a matter of fact, yes," you say, "and his name is Johan—"
"What kind of name is Johan?"
He's still smacking his gum like he knows exactly how to get on your nerves. And after all these years, it's no wonder.
"You're so immature. I'll see you later."
"Oh, come on—"
"No, George," you huff, not turning around until you clear the corner and wipe your wet cheek with the sleeve of your robes.
...
The Great Hall has never looked more decadent. Draped in glitz and the magic of the holidays. Everyone's absolutely buzzing with excitement, ever-present gossip, and the beauty of students dressed to the nines. And in the midst of it all, you still spot him from across the room.
Of course, Johan is the perfect gentleman. He even asked if you'd like to match your gown to his traditional red dress robes. It was a lovely idea, and it wasn't hard to pick out a lovely chiffon, maroon dress. He said you looked beautiful and danced with you most of the night, but there was still that sickly ache in your chest like flesh and tendon left split by two cold hands. George's hands.
After you told Johan you didn't feel well, he left you alone at one of the shimmering tables. You felt bad practically leading him on, but it's not like you'd been lying about your attraction to him. Just about your attraction to George.
You don't turn to face the person who plops onto the stool beside you. You're pretty dedicated to flicking the thin straw around the rim of your glass at this point.
"I left my date to come talk to you, so you better have a stellar reason for looking so glum."
George. You know he's trying to cheer you up. And he knows it's not exactly working how he'd hoped. "Come on, poppet. It's the Yule Ball. You've been looking forward to this for, what, six years?"
He hates that when you turn to face him, you've got tears dripping from your chin, jaw, nose, lashes. He hates that there's a small part of him that wishes he could have fixed it for you. 
"What's wrong?" he whispers, scooting closer and catching a slow tear slipping over your cheekbone. You flinch away and lean your head in your hand, closing your eyes.
"You have no idea."
George chortles and shrugs, "well, yeah. That's sort of why I'm asking." You land a hearty wallop on his arm, not even looking when you swing your fist at him. "Alright, that was deserved. Now, tell me. I don't like it when you shut me out."
"Why are you doing this, George? Why don't you just leave me alone? Go hang out with Niamh or something," you say. It's accusatory, sure, but that's the point. The inflection was aimed for the heart. Spear tipped with arsenic just to make it sting more.
He chews the inside of his cheek, rubbing the back of his neck when you dodge his gaze and sniffle.
"That might be a tad difficult seeing how she stood me up."
Shit.
"George, I didn't mean—"
"No, no, it's okay. She caught a... a stomach bug, or something. Spent all morning hunched over the girl’s toilet," he mumbles, loosening his tie. And you catch just the smallest smirk tugging the corner of his mouth. Like there's some kind of amusement in his own misery. "I feel bad for her, honestly."
"I'm so sorry, I had no idea." You grab his hand and lean closer. He looks tired up close. Like the light usually at home in his eyes as twinkled out and left him dimmed.
"You've nothing to be sorry for. Fate is fate, after all." He brushes his hair out of his face and takes a deep breath, squeezing your hand. "Dance with me?"
Yes, of course, you want to shriek. I'd love nothing more from the boy who used to yank on my hair and call me names and tell me he loved my sparkly shoes. An honor, you think, but the words don't reach. Just a smile.
"Sure," you say, letting him tug you in the direction of the crowd. The right direction, you think, the direction you've longed for. Then he spins you into his chest, and you feel the shallow rumble of his laugh in your fingertips.
"Was Johan a better dancer than me?" he says, swaying your bodies like tender obligation. You cock an eyebrow.
"Johan stepped on my toes every four steps and nearly tore my dress."
"...So?"
"Yes," you tease.
"Shut up. Let me make this dance a good one. For you."
You look up at him and he thinks he's never seen someone look so clueless and yet so completely beautiful. From the gloss on your lips to the gems on your shoes and even now, mascara smudged and hands shaky, he thinks he'd like to look at you for as long as you'll let him. And when you shuffle closer between songs, he has to catch his breath against your temple.
"Your hair's gotten so long, Georgie," you whisper, slipping your hand up and over his shoulder, to the back of his neck with a smile pressed to his warm cheek.
"Like it?"
"I’ll always like it."
He pleads to Merlin you can't feel the rattletrap pounding of his heart. His hand moves of its own volition, spread across the small of your back like he's seen in some romance films. The slow dance scene is always the most romantic. The pinnacle of their love thus far. The event to dissolve any prejudice leftover in their heads, and any pride hidden in the last cracks in their hearts.
"George, I have to tell you something important—"
"Shh, poppet, just dance with me a little longer."
And you suppose. It could wait that little while longer. Another dance. Another day. It'd come up again and break your heart, but it'd be too pressing to put off eventually.
So you let him hold your hand a little tighter, sway you in circles a little slower, and keep your heart beating a little louder.
1996
"every woman that you knew brought you here // i wanna teach you how forever feels"
The something important you had tried to tell George that night was that you'd be staying with your estranged aunt in Spain over the course of the next school year. Your final school year. You'd be leaving Hogwarts—leaving George—and spending the year homeschooling over in Spain.
You left that Spring to spend your days in the Spanish countryside, drinking in the sunshine and dancing to the music of the cicadas. It had devastated George. It had devastated all of the Weasleys. They were so used to housing you most summers, and the change was quite unwelcome. Less place settings, less baggage clunking up the stairs, less laughter. He could only hope you were happy. And that he'd be able to see you again one day in the future.
"Georgie?"
You caught him off guard. He nearly tripped and cracked a tooth on the steps when you called his name. He and his twin brother had made a spectacle of Ninety-three Diagon Alley in the time you'd been away. And you had just happened to wander in and find him hurrying up the technicolor stairs after his brother.
Nothing felt real when he met your eyes for the first time in a year and change. The sirens and bells and sparklers went fuzzy as he realized just how beautiful you'd gotten since he last saw you. Beautiful enough to make him wildly nervous. Enough to make him sweat.
"My Poppet." He says it gently, grinning when you bat your lashes and hold your arms out.
"Christ, I've missed you, George," you huff, burying your face in his shoulder when he wraps his arms around you.
"You have no idea."
You tease him with a laugh, "Well, yeah," pulling away to wrap your lithe fingers around his tie. "Look at your hair! It's so short!"
"Like it?" He runs his fingers through the scruff at the back of his head. You squint and pat the soft tufts at the top of his head.
"I love it. You know I do."
He sighs, ushering you to the back of the shop all while trying to conceal a giddy smile.
"I've had an entire year to reflect on all the reasons why you abandoned me, poppet. I made a list"—He takes your wrist and drapes your arm in the crook of his own—"Starting with that time I told you your unicorn shirt was quote, unquote, 'for babies'."
"You have to include my stunning defense, Weasley"—you clear your throat—"'I am a baby, and you're just a rotten little boy!'"
"How could I forget?" He pushes open a door to the very neglected office towards the back of the building. Papers stacked on the desk, a cobweb in the corner. Well-loved. "A little privacy, mademoiselle?"
"I'd be delighted."
He sweeps the dust off a brown leather chair by the desk, offering the seat to you with a shy smile.
"Oh, George," you whisper, fiddling with the clasp of your purse with watery eyes and a pout like the one you gave him the first time he saw you.
"Come here, sweetheart," he says, hurrying you into his embrace with the feeling of being gutted by your sad eyes weighing heavy on him.
"There's just so much"—you gasp and cover your mouth when you sob—"So much I've missed and so much I want to tell you and so much I wish I had seen and done with you..."
"I know. I know, I feel the same," he huffs, "I missed you more than words can describe. I didn't know what to do with myself."
"I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you, I thought—"
"No. No, poppet, of course not"—he holds you tighter, pressing you to the curves of his body, holding you like clay and hot glass—"You came back, that's all I could ever ask for."
You pull back and let him wipe the tears from your cheeks, leaving faint kisses on each temple. And when he finally tears himself away from your skin, he's only left desperate for the contact. His thumb brushes you cheek, and you hold his wrist, lashes fluttering to meet his soft gaze. Desperation. Exhaustion. Relief. It's all there in the palm of your hand, and just at his fingertips.
Twelve years is far too long to be loving anyone the way you love each other. Completely but without the parts of love we sometimes need most. The honesty and openness, the comfort, and more than ever, the kisses. He curses his wild eyes for sweeping the length of your parted lips. His wild eyes giving away his secrets and calling him a damned fool.
You catch his mouth with yours, innocent at first peck, but he kisses you back, unsure of where his hands should go, wanting perfection, especially when your nose bumps his and makes you smile into the wetness of the kisses.
"I want everything," you whisper, forced to choose between air and George, "I have loved you since the day we met."
"That's very cheesy, my dear." He rests his forehead against yours, cupping the side of your neck, thumb resting gingerly over the column of your throat. Just to hold something delicate. Fragile. His.
"Think you can do better?"
"Hmm," he clears his throat, "You stole my heart and... I don't think I want it back."
"Gross! You win."
"I meant it."
He winks and pecks your bottom lip sweetly, only to realize you're tearing up, head tilted back and hands fanning at your eyes. He holds your waist and you shake your head with a defeated laugh.
"I'm such a crybaby."
"My favorite."
"You're awful, Georgie."
"I know," he says, finally, "I know."
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blackbirdie1234 · 2 months
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The Best Admirer
Fred! Weasley x GN!Reader
(Friends to lovers <3)
This is a Gender nuetral fic. I have only ever written for Fem! but I tried my best to use language that was GN. Let me know if there is anything I can do to improve!
a/n: Sorry for taking so long with this fic. I wanted to try something different. You and Fred are in your sixth year, also scabbers isn't Petter Pettigrew in this he is just a rat lol. Thank you for all the likes and interactions! I'm glad you all like my content. Feel free to request more Harry Potter fics for any character! As always feel free to interact and comment :) Not proof read!
Summary: You have been receiving letters from a secret admirer for weeks. The only problem is you are in love with Fred Weasley, who acts like you are best buds and nothing more. What happens when the secret admirer decides they are done sending letters and wants to meet in person.
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This is the sixth letter you have received in the last two weeks. Not that you aren't flattered, you just wish that this "secret admirer" would reveal themselves already. You aren't the most patient person, you never have been and all these letters are pushing your curiosity.
The first letter was lovely. You had never had someone pay that much attention to you or at least tell you about it. It made you start questioning who this mystery person was.
"Dear Y/n, A few days ago I saw you sitting in the library, catching up on DADA homework. I have never seen anyone look so ethereal. How can someone look so unearthly, while doing something so mundane? The way you stick your tongue out ever so slightly when you are writing, or when you bite your lip when you are focused on something so intense makes me melt. I've never seen something so perfect. I hope I don't sound creepy, but I wanted to express how amazing you are to me.
Love, your secret admirer."
After the third one, your curiosity increased. You had no clue who it could be. Valentine's Day was coming up and you wondered if your admirer would reveal themselves soon. As selfish as it was you only had one person you hoped this could be.
Fred Weasley
You and Fred have been friends since the first year after he defended you against a seventh-year student who thought it was funny to make fun of your glasses.
Fred has always been a good friend to you. You're close to George as well, but it could never compare to the connection you have with his brother. You and Fred understand each other in a way no one else could. You didn't develop a crush on him until your third year, but ever since then, your feelings have only grown.
It's a cold and wet February day, not that you mind. You've always found comfort in the rain.
You are walking to class with a group of your friends, holding the latest letter in your hand, when you hear distinct laughter behind you.
"OI, BUNNY!" You hear footsteps bounding behind you as you turn around to see Fred and George sharing a wide smile and jogging to catch up to you.
"I'll catch up with you lot later." You wave to your friends as they continue walking to McGonagall's classroom.
"Bunny please tell George that I am your favorite Weasley. He seems to have it in his diluted mind that HE is the favorite and that just cannot be true, can it?" Fred smirks, knowing you would choose him over George any day of the week.
"Hmm, but you aren't." You hold back a smile as Fred's face falls in confusion and George's eyes perk up in interest.
"Yeah, yeah I thought you knew. Scabbers is definitely my favorite Weasley." You say with a smile as you start walking.
Fred's face turns from confusion into full disgust.
"You choose A RAT over ME?? A literal RAT." Fred says sounding appalled, only having to take a few steps until he's beside you, George following suit.
"I don't blame her, he is way less annoying than you" George remarks, a smirk appearing on his face before his brother pushes him into the corridor wall.
"Why do you hurt me so, love?" Fred feigns a frown, clutching his chest as if you've injured him.
"I am sorry darling, how will I ever repay you?" You respond, giggling softly at the boy's overdramatic ways.
"Hmmm, profess your undying love for me and maybe I will forgive you" He spoke with a mischievous grin, dodging your hand barrelling towards him with a laugh.
"In your dreams, Weasley" You retort, rolling your eyes but turning away to hide the blushing smile creeping upon your face.
You, Fred, and George walk to class, lowering your heads as you walk in the classroom trying to be discreet so you don't feel disappointment in Mcgonagals gaze when she sees that you are late as always.
You normally sit with Fred but decided to sit next to Hermione today, you wanted to read the note without Fred questioning what you were doing. You NEEDED to figure out who this mystery person was. It was eating you alive. Fred would just complicate things, he would probably try and read the letter and you did NOT want to explain what was happening. And yes maybe it was because you were secretly hoping it was him, and him seeing the letter and not knowing what it was would ruin that thought for you. So you were keeping it a secret. At least until you figure out who it is.
You kept reading the letters over and over again. You were obsessed at this point. Whoever this was obviously knew you well, they write as if they've known you for a long time. They would add details that you are sure you have only told a few people. They knew your favorite color, flower, and food, they even knew that you preferred to keep your hair long and over your ears because you felt insecure about it. If they weren't so poetic and sweet in their words you would be creeped out but you could tell this person was genuine, just by the way they wrote to you, as if you were someone worth writing for.
The next few days you became distant from everyone around you. You stayed to yourself in class, at the library, in your dorm. You wanted to figure out the letters so you decided the best way to investigate and you needed there to be no distractions. Even though you are an introvert you at least talk to your friends, especially Fred and George. All you could think about though was those stupid letters and who it could possibly be. You ruled out the majority of your friends, as you only have a small group of them.
You begin reading another letter.
"Dear Y/n, I must confess, I've admired you in secret for quite a while now. I've been enchanted by your beauty, intelligence, kindness, and your grace. I am scared you will not look at me the same after finding out who I am. I fear it will affect our connection. I just can't love you in secret anymore. So I have decided to explain how I feel in these letters in the hope you will understand exactly how I feel about you. I am not always great at expressing how I feel out loud so I hope this will make up for it. I admire you for many reasons but here are a few I can point out. I admire the way you carry yourself with such confidence and poise, yet remain humble and kind in your words and actions. Your inner beauty reflects the outer, captivating all who have the privlidge of seeing it. I will reveal myself soon my love. For now, I will continue to send these letters and poems as a reminder that I have loved you before, I will love you now, and I will love you after. With love, your secret admirer."
As you sit by the black lake re-reading the letter in your hands, you are pulled from your thoughts when you hear your name being called in the distance.
"Y/N" You hear, voice loud despite being almost a football field away from you. You know who it is obviously, you could recognize that voice anywhere. George. You slam your book shut, the letter hiding beneath the pages.
As the boy gets closer you wonder what he's doing alone. It's strange to see him without his brother by his side, both walking in sync, talking or laughing about the next prank/invention they are going to whip up. So seeing him walk up alone was very odd.
"Hey bunny, where have you been?" He questions sitting next to you, taking his shoes off making sure not to get dirt on the blanket scrawled out beneath you both. Bunny a nickname given to you by Fred in your first year on the ride to Hogwarts, he told you it's because your eyes and nose reminded him of a bunny and coincidently it is now your patronus.
"Oh you know, just been busy with potions work. Snape has really pilled it on this week, just trying to make sure I stay on track" You say trying not to show the nervousness buried beneath your smile.
"Fred and I could've helped you with that, Snape may be sick of us but we are damn good at potions" He replies with a cocky smirk, not noticing the lie. You're glad Fred isn't here because he would have seen right through you and questioned you until you spilled.
"Did you need something, not that I don't enjoy your company but you came down here with a sort of determination" You laughed softly while speaking, showing your amusement at the ginger's abrupt greeting.
George's face lit up as if he remembered something important and then reached for his pocket.
"Actually yes" He grins while pulling a pink-tinted letter. A letter that looked all too familiar.
Your eyes widened in surprise. What the HELL was George doing with that letter. Your mind raced as you tried to remember if you might've dropped or misplaced one of the letters, but that couldn't be possible since you kept them in your nightstand with an enchanted lock. You tried to hide your horrified expression as you thought just for a second that George was the one who was sending you these letters. Just as you were about to speak he cleared things up.
"I was told to give this to you, urgent matter" He wiggled his eyebrows while handing it to you, a boyish grin on his face the whole time.
You took the letter with hesitation staring at it, then looking back at George dumbfounded.
"Who gave this to you?" You questioned, shaking the letter with your hand.
"You'll just have to read it and find out I guess" He answered, not giving you much before standing up and placing his shoes back on his feet. Not before you see the small grin that he is obviously trying to hide.
You sit there watching him walk away, not knowing what to think you open the letter placed in your hand.
" Dear Y/n, Hello love, I hope you are well on this beautiful day. By the time you read this letter, I will be preparing. I have sent George to find you and give you this letter for a very special reason. If you want to meet me and know who I am, I will be at the astronomy tower tonight waiting for you. Meet me there at 9 o'clock tonight, bring your wand ;) Love, your secret admirer."
He wants to meet, tonight.
You look up to see the sun setting behind the water and realize it is time for dinner.
You immediately get up and flick your wand, effectively clearing your area of the lawn and packing up your things neatly into your bag. You snatch the bag and run to the castle.
You sit down next to Fred, he looks up at you with a smile. You realize you've been ignoring him for the past couple of weeks. You've been so busy with these letters you haven't even been sitting with him at dinner, as you normally always do.
"Oi Bunny, finally decided to sit next to me have you?" Fred says in a fake annoyed tone, not hiding the smile on his face when you look at him with guilt.
"Don't act as if you haven't missed me dearly darling" You speak, falling back into the playful banter you're used to.
"I'm not acting anything, love. I can't believe you left me with the kids, I've had to get a second job to pull the load" He fake sobs putting his face into his hands.
You rub his back laughing "Oh I am so sorry, honey. I'll buy you a new broom to make up for it."
His head shoots up with a smile "All is forgiven, buttercup"
You both laugh as George and Lee look between the two of you with confusion on their faces.
"You lot are so odd," George says laughing.
You enjoy the rest of dinner throwing banter with your friends, soaking in the time spent with them. You didn't realize how much you missed them until now. You wanted to enjoy this before you met your mystery person tonight.
You didn't realize you were staring at Fred the whole dinner until he looked at you and asked if there was something on his face. You responded by tucking your face away as it turned beet red.
"What should I wear? What if this is a prank? What if it's a first year or something?? Oh god, was I too nice to that one Ravenclaw in the great hall last month when he spilled milk on himself and I helped him clean it up???" You rant, pacing back and forth in your dorm.
Your friend who was sitting on the bed in front of you stands up grabbing your shoulders.
"Calm down! Breath!" they say shaking you back and forth, making you look at them.
They push you onto the bed and walk to the closet while talking.
"It is not a prank, you are a catch! I'm surprised you aren't getting letters from every person at Hogwarts by now" They say winking at you cheekily. "It is not a first year, especially not that Ravenclaw bloke" They answer putting clothes on the bed next to you in stacks. "If you want me to be honest I think it's a certain redhead who is always ogling you from afar without you noticing." They look at you waving their eyebrows and smirking.
"Who? Ron???" You ask with a look of disgust.
"No, you can be so daft sometimes you know" They roll their eyes in disappointment. "Fred, of course. Who else looks at you like you hold the stars in your eyes"
"Fred? No way." You put your head down hiding the blush threatening to rise to your cheeks. "He most definitely does not look at me like that. Besides, I think he likes Angelina." You can't help the jealousy raging in your chest as you think about it.
"What? No way! She and George have been going out for weeks now, they follow each other around like lovesick puppies. You've been so busy focusing on these letters you just haven't noticed." They speak knowingly as they pick up an outfit and hold it up for you to try on, pushing it towards you.
You breathe out in relief at the new information, standing up and heading to the bathroom. More of your roommates come into the dorm and help you get ready, excited for you to finally meet the person who has occupied your thoughts for the past few weeks.
Every time you come out of the bathroom you get their opinions and then shoved back in with 20 more items. After an hour, you finally walk out of the bathroom and the room is completely silent. Everyone is in awe just staring at you, mouths open.
"What?? What's wrong?" You hurriedly speak, looking down at yourself and then back at everyone with concern on your face.
Everyones face lights up and they start speaking all at once.
"You look amazing!"
"You're so hot omg!"
"Who is this lucky git who gets to see you like this"
They flood you with compliments, all agreeing this is the outfit you NEED to wear tonight.
Girl outfit ideas 1,2,3.
Guy outfit ideas 1,2,3.
Gn outfit ideas 1,2,3.
(Feel free to imagine any outfit you want these are just some ones I like)
Your friend takes your hand and drags you to the full-length mirror in the middle of the room, a big smile on their face, placing you in front of it and showing you the outfit in all its glory.
"You have to wear this, you look amazing. Anyone would be lucky to see you in this on a date like wow." They say in awe, everyone else in the room sharing their looks and sounds of approval.
They give you some accessories and pull the outfit fully together. You do your hair put some makeup on, look in the mirror, and smile.
Getting ready helped ease your nerves but now that you are ready and you have to wait all of the anxiety is coming back full force. The overwhelming thoughts flood back into your brain.
What If I don't like the person?
Can someone really like me this much?
Should I even go?
Before you could get too lost in your thoughts you heard the clock.
Dingggg, dinggggg, dingggg
You look up and read the time.
Shit I'm going to be late
You take one last look in the mirror and grab your wand before leaving the dorm and sneaking down the stairs.
You sneak around the castle making sure to not run into any prefects or Filch. When you get to the tower door you take a deep breath before continuing up the stairs.
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When you walk into the tower the doorway is lined with candles leading to the middle of the room, as you continue walking you see a blanket with flower petals lying around the beautifully woven cloth. A wicker basket sits in the middle of the blanket, overflowing with bread, pastries, cheese, and jam.
As you are processing the sight before you, footsteps coming from behind you make you freeze.
"I almost thought you wouldn't come" A deep husky voice comes from behind you, giving you goosebumps across your skin.
Fred?
You turn around slowly, your face showing the shock you feel in your bones.
"Y-you?" You stutter releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding.
"Disappointed?" Fred questions, a shy smile on his face but you can hear the nervousness in his voice.
"Is this real? I mean are you being serious?" A mix of questioning and genuine shock bleeding into your words as you speak. You feel as if the room is spinning as you try to grasp the reality of this situation.
"Do you think I would joke about this? Come on Bunny, I know I make jokes and pranks but I'm not a foul git." Fred laughs trying to ease the tension that lingers in the space between you before he continues.
"I have felt this way for a very long time, I just haven't known how to tell you" He walks towards you slowly, and you finally sink back into the moment enough to see the flowers in his hands.
"(Your favorite flower)" You say softly, staring at the beautifully arranged bouquet in his hands. "How did you-"
"In the third year, you had a muggle book of flowers, you left it in the common room one day and when I returned it to you I noticed a particular page that looked more worn than the others. I just figured this was your favorite. Other than that it just suits you. If I were to imagine you as a flower I'd guess this one." Fred looks down and blushes as he realizes he just went on a rant about you as a flower but quickly tries to save his confidence by looking back up and stepping closer to you holding the bouquet out for you to take.
You look into his eyes and then at the flowers before taking them. You were completely and utterly dumbfounded. Never in a million years did you believe this moment would ever happen, but you couldn't be happier.
You smile brightly at Fred. "Thank you, Fred. Genuinely, this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me."
"For you anything" He replies, looking down at you with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes.
He offers his hand for you to take and you accept, putting your hand in his. You blush realizing how large his hands actually are. He leads you to the blanket and keeps your hand in his as he helps you sit. He moves to the other side of the blanket, taking two glasses and filling them with wine. He hands one to you and takes a deep breath before speaking again.
"Y/n, I love you. I have loved you since the first year when I saw you at the sorting ceremony. You had big dorky glasses and your face was bright as a tomato, I saw how nervous you were going up in front of everyone but I never understood why. When I saw you I thought you were the most beautiful person I had ever seen, I couldn't understand how someone could be nervous when they had absolutely nothing to hide from. It wasn't just me, I saw how other people looked at you as well. It isn't just your looks that drew me in though, it was that quiet giggle I heard behind me when I accidentally hit Marcus Flint with a dung bomb. It was the most amazing sound I had ever heard in my entire life. That sound is the single reason I continued to prank people. I wanted to hear you laugh any chance I got and eventually, I started enjoying pranking and making jokes because it was fun. I am telling you this because I want you to understand how much you have turned my life upside down Y/n L/n. I understand if you don't feel the same but I couldn't keep this from you any longer. I meant everything I wrote in those letters, I didn't know how to tell you how I felt without ruining our friendship. I wasn't even going to send the letters when I began writing them, I wrote letters for you for over a year before I sent the first one. I saved them in hopes that one day I could send them and finally express how I felt to you. I know this is a lot to process and I am sorry if this is too much for you and if you need time I fully understand." Fred expresses holding your hand and looking into your eyes taking in every expression on your face. At the end, he releases a long breath, and you can see his shoulders relax. You now understand how much this had affected him and how long he has been hiding.
He stares at you waiting for you to speak or even make a sound, when suddenly you smash your lips against his. His eyes widen in surprise and he sinks into the kiss. He grips the back of your head, not roughly but hard enough to keep you in the same position. You grip at his shirt, as your mouths continue to move perfectly in sync. When both of you finally pull away your chest heaves, trying to steady your breathing.
"I feel the same way Fred, you don't even understand how glad I am that it is you" You smile, face flushed at the realization of the bold move you just pulled.
"Well, I'd bloody hope so, or do you just like kissing your friends?" You both laugh, the sound airy and light.
You sit and talk for hours under the starlight. Both sharing smiles and laughs, enjoying each other's company. Fred gives you his jacket when he sees you shiver and you take in the warmth, noticing he put on a new cologne you've never smelt before. You sit, eat, talk, and cuddle until you realize how late it is.
"Oh shit" You shriek, sitting up quickly. "What time is it?" You look back at Fred, still lying on the blanket. His eyes go wide as he checks his watch.
You and Fred clean up the blanket and food and begin walking to the door.
You feel your wrist being tugged and you look behind you.
"Hold on, I know a different way." He grins widely and drags you to the other side of the tower, he pulls out his wand. He gestures his wand at you, telling you to bring yours out.
"Repeat after me, revelio" He asks
Fred holds up three fingers, pointing his wand at the floor and you follow suit. When the last finger goes down you speak in unison.
"Revelio"
Suddenly the floor opens up and a staircase unfolds before your eyes. You stand there shocked, wondering how Fred discovered this mystery passage.
"Lumos" Fred mumbles and light shoots out of his wand, allowing you to see down the stairs. He gestures for you to take his hand and you hesitantly accept.
"Trust me, it's just a passage. I would never put you in harm's way." Fred assures you, turning forward after you nod your head and he begins descending the steps.
You continue hand in hand down the stairs, and when you reach the bottom you realize you are right next to the Gryffindor common room.
"How in the world did you figure this out?" You question astonished. You think back to all of the pranks he has pulled without getting caught and into trouble, it makes you wonder how many of these secret passages he has figured out.
"A good magician never reveals his secrets" Fred smirks and whispers the password to the very tired and annoyed fat lady.
He walks you to your dorm stairs and you both blush and giggle staring at each other.
"I guess this is goodnight" Fred whispers, looking at you as if you hold the sun in your eyes.
"I guess it is" You reply, both of you slowly leaning in.
"Goodnight"
"Goodnight"
You close the space between you and share a sweet and loving kiss.
You pull away first but Fred chases your lips making you giggle into another peck.
"Okay, okay we really need to get to bed" You laugh lightly, trying to be quiet and not make yourselves known to any nosy students.
"You really want to go" He pouts, even though he is joking you can see the hesitation in his eyes. Not wanting this moment to end.
"I'll see you tomorrow" You smile, enjoying watching him yearn for your affection.
"Promise?"
"I promise"
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luvvyouforever · 5 months
Note
Heyy,
I really love fics when George is together with y/n and they are at The Burrow and all thr Weasleys love them so muchh
the healing process - george weasley x reader <3
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↳ george weasley is still healing, years after the wizarding war. his family just needs to give him the final push to begin his life.
↳ some angst but it is resolved, post hogwarts, wizarding war, fred is still dead i'm sorry, fluff.
↳ a/n: i'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you wanted but i had this idea and had to run with it!! it's got some happiness and some fluff but it deals with angsty things. i hope you enjoy!
harry potter's birthday was an entire event at the burrow. this time around, he was twenty-two and it had been four years since the wizarding war.
molly took it upon herself to throw a large party now that their lives had calmed down and rebuilding was coming to a close. she claimed that it would be nice to bring everyone together, to celebrate our hero, and catch up. harry reluctantly agreed and now, the burrow was filled with life, conversations, drinks, and dishes that the enchanted sink could barely keep up with.
outside, just off the lawn, a few people lingered. those that could barely take the loudness on the inside of the warm home. one such person was george weasley.
after the battle of hogwarts, george was incredibly sensitive to crowds and sounds. he didn't enjoy the unknown and the exciting anymore. he was cautious and planned every one of his moves. in his shop, he stayed to the top floor, eyeing everyone below him. he scanned their faces and committed them to memory.
he spent nights crying over fred, over the people he lost, over the memories he desperately clung on to. he was scared that all that was good from his life was gone. he had the store, sure, which was rapidly gaining popularity in a rebuilt wizarding world. but there was nobody to share it with.
"george!" molly's voice called from the open kitchen window. her head poked out comically and though tempted to hide himself, george looked to his mother with curiosity. "oh, there you are! hiding away, are we?"
"d'ya need something?" he asked.
"i could do without the attitude, you know?" she scolded george. her annoyed expression quickly turned to one of happiness at her next words. "someone is here and keeps asking about you! i think you should come and see!"
george felt his palms go clammy at the idea of going into that house with people he barely knew who were all too boisterous and rowdy.
molly recognized the look on his face and softened. "i'll tell everyone to quiet down. you can stay in the kitchen, dear."
george thought for a moment, wiped his hands on his pants, and nodded at his mother. he turned around to go to the front door and hesitantly, he turned the doorknob. immediately, the chaos inside diminished and george was thankful that everyone understood.
the crowd was gathered in the living room, forming a circle around someone who sat on the couch. he was all too curious about who this person may be. very suddenly, his questions were answered as a sweet voice rang out: "is that george?"
from the crowd rose george's best friend, second to fred, all throughout his time at hogwarts. y/n had met george and fred in their first year after she had helped them acquire ingredients for one of their very first potion experiments. it was a budding friendship at first which turned into an intense, unbreakable bond by their fourth year. fred and george were never without her. and she was never without one of them.
while fred easily made friends with other people in their house, george had more trouble. which is why he always gravitated to y/n's presence, electing to stay by her side, eat with her, or be partners in their class. sure, all three of them were friends, but there was something more about george and y/n that both of them were too scared to act on.
when they graduated, y/n wasted no time in joining the weasley wizard wheezes crew and made employee of the month multiple times (all thanks to george). however, the war began and when it ended, mcgonagall declared y/n an emissary and for the past four years, she traveled the world, visiting schools and wizarding communities as a representative.
y/n loved what she did, there was no doubt there, but it hurt her tremendously to leave her life, her family, and george. she couldn't say no to mcgonagall and george understood but on their final night together, y/n placed the most softest of kisses on george's lips which, if he thought hard enough, he could remember the feeling.
and there she was now, in front of him. his heart was beating so fast, he was sure she could hear it all the way across from him. "y/n?" he dared to speak. it came out in more of a squeak but she smiled anyway and walked toward him confidently.
her arms wrapped around his middle tightly and he accepted the tightness she offered. "i missed you so much," she mumbled into his chest. the entire burrow seemed to be happy with her presence. molly had always loved y/n like her own daughter. ginny confided in her. ron asked her for girl advice. charlie introduced her to his favorite dragon and she met up with bill while in africa. percy tolerated her which was enough.
gently, she pulled back from george's embrace and led him to the kitchen. there, they both sat down at the dining table, legs brushing up against each other. y/n had grown much more than the last time he had seen her. her skin had tanned and there were some added wrinkles on her forehead and around her lips. her eyes held something enchanting, like they were filled with the sights and knowledge she gained throughout her travels. george's world felt just a little lighter while staring at her.
"h-how was your trip?" george asked.
"trip isn't the word for it! i went to ilvermorny and met some of their professors and i got to meet some members of their magical congress. i spent a lot of time in france with the beauxbatons. bill introduced me to the other cursebreakers and showed me all the magical artifacts he's found," she rambled. "it was a lot of fun, george, but i really missed being here. being with you. i'm sorry i had to leave."
quickly, george jumped to assuage her worries. "no! no, don't apologize! you had to go and i wanted you to. i've been fine! the store's been great, really. but i did miss you. a lot."
y/n's eyes softened. "i've missed you too, georgie. so much. but i'm back now! i did my work and now i want to come back and help you with the store. if you'll have me."
in that moment, george would have surely said yes to anything she said. having someone to share the store with was all he had wanted for the past four years. his chest felt like a weight had been lifted off of it. there was still some pain in the back of his heart and flashes of fred came into his mind.
y/n must have recognized the flashes of pain that went across his eyes. "i know it's not the same but i want to help you heal as much as i can, george. i'm here now."
he looked up at her through his long eyelashes. her smile was genuine, wistful, and meant a lot to him.
"i would love for you to come back with me, y/n," he said. his hand wound around hers and she squeezed his comfortably. slowly, she rose up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek but at the last second, he turned his head and their lips met again.
she giggled and he reveled in the sound. "just as mischievous as you've always been, georgie."
up the stairs, looking through the bannister, was molly weasley admiring the scene before her. a strongly worded letter to mcgonagall asking to bring y/n home was all she needed.
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Text
No Matter What - F.Weasley
Summary: Y/N is finally meeting Fred’s parents and his eldest brothers for the holidays. She’s nervous but Fred assures her that he would love her no matter what.
Word Count: 1507
Pairings: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Use of Y/N, nervousness, Fem!Reader, non specific house, betting
Harry Potter Masterlist
my masterlist
25 days of fics masterlist
Author's Note: This is my first day of trying once again to post 25 fics leading up to Christmas! I have a few days done in advance already. I will be posting at least 2 fics per character on my masterlists. I hope you enjoy!
Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!
Enjoy!
not my gif
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not my gif
Y/N and Fred had been together for nearly a year. They had started dating right after New Years. For this Christmas, instead of spending the holiday at Hogwarts, Fred had invited her to the Burrow for Christmas, which she agreed to happily. However this would be the first time she had met his parents, Bill and Charlie, the two eldest Wealsley boys coming home for the holidays. She already knew George, Ginny, Ron and Percy through school but meeting the parents of the Weasley clan was something that made her nervous.
It was officially the first day of break, she was packed and ready to go, waiting by the Fat Lady’s painting for Fred and the rest of the Weasley’s, the first one to exit the portrait was George and right behind him was Fred. “You ready to go love?” Fred asked her with a bright smile on his face.
“I’m ready, let’s go boys,” She replied, matching her boyfriend’s smile. Fred was blissfully unaware of how nervous she was, he was just excited to go home to see the rest of his family, sure he had a majority of them at Hogwarts but he missed his parents dearly. He linked arms with his girlfriend who had linked arms with his twin as the three of them pranced their way to the exit of Hogwarts. 
Once they were on the train, then Fred finally took notice of how nervous his girlfriend actually was. “Why are you so nervous? I told you everyone is going to love you!”
“I know but I can’t help it. What if your mum doesn’t like me? Or your dad?” She asked, concern lacing her voice. Fred grabbed her hand and squeezed it, looking right in her eye.
“They will love you, I promise. Have I ever lied to you? Like ever?” Fred asked, she shook her head no, “So why would I lie about this? Mum and dad will love you. No question about it. George, a little backup here?” George perked up and looked right at his brother’s girlfriend, a mischievous smirk on his face.
“Oh no, I entirely disagree. I think mum will claim her as her own child, another daughter. You know how much she loves having a single girl in the house, now imagine her with another girl in the house that loves her son just as much as she does,” George said, Y/N giggling slightly, the twins doing fantastic at their job to make her feel better.
“Thank you Freddie and Georgie. I appreciate it a lot.”
She was calm for the rest of the ride, the nervous feeling only returning once they flooed into the Burrow. She was right after George to get to the Burrow, Fred and the other’s right behind her. 
“My children are home! Hello my darlings! I’ve missed you!” Molly exclaimed from the kitchen, her voice getting louder until she had reached the fireplace. “You must be Y/N! Oh you are gorgeous, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” Molly pulled the girl in for a hug which surprised her, she was stunned for a moment until she finally remembered to hug the woman back.
“It’s nice to finally meet you too Mrs. Weasley. Freddie wouldn’t shut up about coming home to your cooking. He always says the house elves have nothing on you,” Y/N replied.
“Oh dear, call me Molly. Mrs. Weasley makes me feel old.”
“Can I steal my girlfriend back to introduce her to dad? You’re going to suffocate her woman,” Fred joked to his mother. Molly let go of the girl before quickly apologizing.
“I’m sorry dear, Fred just hasn’t stopped talking about you, I’ve been so excited to finally meet you!”
“I’ve been so excited to meet you too!”
“Okay, love, let’s go meet my father before my mum steals you for the rest of the holiday,” Fred grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and led her to the back yard where Arthur was tinkering with some muggle objects. “Dad, this is my girlfriend Y/N, love, this is my father.”
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Weasley, Freddie has told me loads about you,” She said with a smile.
“He’s said loads about you too! He told me you’re a half-blood, can you tell me what it’s like to have a muggle parent?” Arthur replied.
“Dad-”
“No, it’s fine Fred, I enjoy talking about my life as a half-blood, I got the best of both worlds really. I got to experience things as a witch but also as a muggle,” She explained to the man. Arthur continued to ask the girl questions, Fred eventually leaving the two of them to talk about the muggle world so he can go catch up with his mother.
“Where’s Y/N, dear?” Molly asked her son.
“Lost her to dad. They’re talking about muggles.” Fred replied.
“I had a feeling that would happen. You’ve got a good one Fred. That’s a keeper she is.”
Fred and Molly took the time to catch up, Fred telling her about school and Molly telling him about new things that she had done while her children had been away. They took their sweet time catching up until dinner was ready, Molly tasking Fred to call in Arthur and Y/N, so he went outside where he saw the two who had just met hugging, his father treating his girlfriend as one of his own. It made Fred’s heart warm to see it.
“Mum said dinner is ready,” Fred was apprehensive to interrupt but was glad he did deep down because he could finally steal his girlfriend back. Arthur was the first to let go of the girl and happily went into the house, Y/N meeting Fred halfway so they could walk into the house together. “I see that you and dad get on well.”
“Yeah, he’s a delight Freddie! He reminds me of you a little bit. You both get very passionate when you talk about things you love or have an interest in. Your eyes light up and you can talk for days about whatever it is. You two have that in common,” She smiled as they walked towards the house.
“See, I told you, there was no reason to be nervous. I do owe George a galleon now though.”
“What? Why? What did you two bet on this time?”
“I said mum would be the one to steal you but Georgie said dad would. George was right.” The two of them laughed about the bet as they entered the house and sat at the dinner table. 
Dinner went well, the Weasley’s that didn’t know Y/N got to know her and what she had liked. She had learned some new embarrassing stories about the twins as the conversation went on. And then, Molly pulled out the photo albums much to all of the Weasley children’s dismay. Y/N, Herminone and Harry, however, thoroughly enjoyed seeing pictures of their significant others as children, it gave them perfect ammunition to use against them if needed. 
Molly stayed up with the girl for a while finally getting the time to talk to her one on one to get to know her and her intentions with dating one of her sons. Y/N assured Molly that Fred was the love of her life; that there was nothing to be worried about when they were at Hogwarts because she would be there for Fred, no matter what. Molly felt lighter hearing this but she felt even better as she went on about her other children that were attending Hogwarts as well.
“Mrs. Weasley, I promise you that I will look after and care for Ginny, George and Fred when they’re away from you. They’re my family too and I care about them a lot. They mean the world to me,” Y/N assured the woman next to her. The woman pulled the girl into a tight hug as a thank you before sending her off to bed once she realized the time. She went up to the twins’ room and climbed right into Fred’s bed where he was already half asleep.
“Have a good talk with mum?” Fred asked her sleepily.
“A really good talk. I’ll tell you about it in the morning,” She replied as she was getting under the covers with him. As soon as she was under the covers, he pulled her into his side and dropped a lazy kiss to the top of her head. 
“Night, I love you.”
“I love you too Freddie. Good night.”
She had never felt so welcomed by another family before, she already felt like she was a part of the Weasley family. She knew that the family would always hold a special place in her heart no matter what happened. Fred was happy that she was quick to become part of the family, that she was quick to care for his family. He knew that he would never let her go, no matter what.
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justanamesstuff · 1 year
Text
Unrequited love (birthday party) - Matty Healy
Part 3 of Unrequited love at the studio.
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A/N: Guys, there's no way I can thank you enough for all the support the fic/concept/miniseries is receving...THANK YOU SO SO SOOO MUCH ♥ I hope you enjoy this part as well!
Warnings: maybe a little swearing, FLUFF, typos.
Word count: 1.8K
Blog masterlist
Part 2
Y/n opened the front door of her flat. Her sight fell on George and Charli, smiling happy and all dressed up for the occasion. 
“Happy birthday!” Charli wished her, going to engulf the girl in a bear hug.
Y/n took a step backwards when Charli’s body coiled with hers. “Oh, thank you, Char!” Y/n thanked her, full of excitement. “Come in, come in!” she instructed.
Once G’s girlfriend was inside, standing just behind Y/n waiting for her to lead the way, George went to hug Y/n.
“Happy birthday, love!” George shouted on her ear. 
She laughed at his actions. “Thank you, big guy!”
“Here.” he said, detaching himself from her, extending a bottle of expensive Champagne.
“No, George!” Y/n took it despite being against receiving it. She inspected the complex drawing on the label. “You shouldn’t…” she mumbled, feeling thankful for the gesture. 
George brushed her off, “Shut it!” G placed his big hands on her shoulders, comfortably. “It’s the least I could do, since you didn’t want presents.” he expressed in a reprimand tone, even though she knew he was joking. 
“The real present is having you guys here.” Y/n said, looking at both of them. 
“Yeah, right!” Charli scoffed. 
Y/n laughed out loud, feeling happy about how her birthday party was starting.“Come in, Matty is already here…” 
“‘Course he is!” George teased her, getting inside. 
Y/n glanced at him, “Don’t start!” she warned her friend, closing the front door. 
“Right, right.” George raised his hands in surrender. 
Charli stared at them. Feeling left out, she asked, “Did I miss something?” Y/n looked at her eyes, feeling how her body temperature was rising. 
“George is delusional.” Y/n said, trying to get out of it. 
“I’m not!” George protested. “It’s what I told you, babe.” he continued, speaking as if Y/n wasn’t there. 
Charli was confused. “About?”
“Matty and birthday girl.” G grinned wide, enjoying teasing his friend. 
Even though, before the conversation developed, Matty interrupted the little gathering at the entrance of Y/n’s flat. 
“Are you coming in or what?” Matty whined. 
Charli’s face turned after looking at Matty. Her head whipped to look at George. “Ah, yeah, I remember!” she shouted. 
“What?” Y/n asked, looking from one to the other. Matty just stood a few meters away, taking sips from his drink. 
George said nothing, going to greet his mate. The boys indulged in a conversation, leaving Charli and Y/n behind them. George’s girlfriend took the opportunity to whisper in Y/n’s ear.
“We’ll talk about this, bitch” she let Y/n know. 
Y/n wanted to disappear. “Oh my god!” 
She tried not to freak out about the fact that George told Charli, which included the possibility of the rest of the boys and girlfriends –and who knows whom else– knew about her feelings for Matty. Y/n tried to collect herself and enjoy her birthday party, ignoring the rest. 
*******************************************
The lights were off, Y/n's face was illuminated by candles on her birthday cake that Carly baked for her. All of them started clapping, while Y/n stood before the cake on the table. She never knew how to stand during those moments. Y/n was happy to be around closest friends, either way she would melt on her place from embarrassment. 
“Happy birthday to you…” the group started singing. 
Matty noticed her body was stiff, without stopping singing, he approached her. His right arm rounding her shoulders, moving their bodies from side to side. Y/n laughed, hitting him slightly on his chest. Matty noticed her body relax.
“Happy birthday, dear Y/n/n! Happy birthday to you!” they finally sang. 
The room erupted into cheers and whistles. Matty brought her for a side hug, kissing the crown of her head. 
He took advantaged the boys were bickering about who whistled better, to wish Y/n, “Happy birthday, my darlin’” Y/n eyes filled with happy tears.
“Thank you, Matty.” she replied, kissing his cheek quickly.
“Quick, Y/n!” Ross called her. “Think about your three wishes!” he rushed her. 
Y/n moved far from Matty’s side, coming closer with the chocolate cake waiting for her. The candles burning while she thought about what to ask. Y/n moved her hair to a side, looking around to her friends and finally Matty. She smiled wide, and leaned down. 
The birthday girl closed her eyes and blew the candles. 
*******************************************
Matty left a few used glasses in the sink. He took a glanced around, the mess all over the kitchen was terrifying. He turned to look at Y/n, who was throwing leftovers in the trash.
“You should’ve let me host…” he reproached her. 
Y/n chuckled, looking around. “No, it’s fine.”
“I’ll help you tidy tomorrow.” He promised.
Y/n stopped her movements, “Are you staying?” she asked, surprised. It had been a hot minute since Matty stayed at her flat for the night. And usually when he did, they slept on the same bed. Y/n felt her stomach flip. 
“‘Course.” Matty replied without hesitation.
“Okay.”
Y/n continued tidying here and there. She knew they would have to do the hard work in the morning, but tried to do the small bits. 
Matty approached her when she whipped her hands with a towel after cleaning her hands. “Did you have a nice time?” he trapped her with his arms. 
Y/n threw the cloth on the closest surface, being called by Matty’s warmth to lean in. She rested her head on his shoulder, which allowed Matty to increase his grip. 
“Yes, a great time.” she mumbled. 
Matty’s voice made his body vibrate when he said, “Happy to hear, darlin’.” Y/n let herself enjoy his closeness. 
Y/n was beyond exhausted that the solo body heath of Matty’s body rocked her to sleep. Her lids heavy, ready to drift off completely. Matty noticed. 
“Okay, it’s bedtime for the birthday girl.” He stirred her awake a little. 
Y/n admitted, rubbing her eyes. “Please, I’m exhausted.”
“But before that,” Matty started saying. “I have something to give you.” he admitted, detaching his arms from her body. 
Matty disappeared from the kitchen, leaving a confused Y/n behind. She had a presumption about the truth behind the mystery. 
When he returned with a squared item, Y/n knew her bets were correct.
“What did I tell you, Healy?” Y/n folded her arms, looking at his eyes when he was close again. 
Matty faked to think about it. He shrugged his shoulders, “Don’t remember.”
Although she knew he remembered, Y/n remind him, “No presents.”
“Ring no bell. Sorry!” Matty teased. 
“Matty, you really shouldn’t-”
“Shhh…” Matty made her shut up tenderly, touching the apple of her left cheek. “Here” he extended the package. “It’s something I wanted to give you for a long time. I’ve managed to grab a hold of it not so long ago.” he took her hand to place it on the gift. “Happy birthday, Y/n.” Matty concluded. 
Y/n stared at their hands on top of the item, until Matty hid his hands on his back. With his actions, Matty forced Y/n to hold the gift. It didn’t weight too much. After one more look at his face, Y/n started to rip the wrapping paper. 
The old book looked directly at her, the emerald tone cover with the gold letters brought Y/n’s attention. She let her fingers’ tip ran through the letters stating her favourite author's name. It was a book she owned, one she read several times. The difference relied on the edition, it was a vintage one. 
Y/n opened the book, looking at the first pages, no one looks at. It was first edition. Y/n gasped, “Matty!”  she dare to look at him. “You didn’t-” the girl hid her mouth behind her hand. 
“Do you like it?” Matty smiled wide at her. The excitement was all over Y/n’s factions. 
She ignored him, saying, “It’s really…” and proceed to take a second look. Finding something else behind the first page. “Oh my god!” Y/n exclaimed, without believing it. “This is?”
“Yeah, it’s her signature there…” Matty touched the place of the page the signature was in. “I was going to leave a dedication for you, but I didn’t want to ruin it.” He let her know.
Y/n looked at him in awe. “Matty, I don’t know what to say.” She couldn’t maintain the eye contact, way too emotional about his gesture. “This is- This is my most prized possession now…thanks to you!” Y/n hugged the book, without fully understand it. 
“So you do like it?” Matty tried again.
Y/n snapped out of her shocked state, screaming, “Handsome, I love this! Thank you so much!” she didn’t contain herself and went to hug him. Her free arm –the one no holding the book– round him over the shoulders, bringing Matty’s body close again.  “I don’t know how to thank you for this…” Y/n breath out. 
Still dizzy by her perfume around him, Matty leaned back a few centimetres. “You don’t have.” he stated, slowly. 
Y/n gripped the gift, feeling suddenly nervous about his proximity. Their faces were inches away. She sensed him swallow.  
She looked at his hazel eyes, “I want to…”
Matty couldn’t help the urge to lean forward, touching her nose with his. Neither of them was sure what was happening, although neither of them wanted to move away. Y/n let her hand touch the curls at the nape of his neck. Matty breathed deeply, looking down at her lips. 
Y/n titled her head, an action that Matty copied. That was it, it was going to happen.
The sound of a glass shattering into pieces came from behind Matty’s body. Y/n and the singer rapidly moved to different points of the kitchen. 
“Shit…” George said from the door. “Sorry, Y/n!” he apologized for the glass he broke.
Y/n cleaned her throat, “It’s okay.” she told G.
George glanced at them. Faces all red, sights on the floor. He chuckled uncontrollably due to his drunkenness still lingering. 
Matty started to scratch his head, uncomfortably. “We should all go to sleep…” he proposed.
“Yes!” Y/n exclaimed way too excited about that way out of the situation. 
The frontman went to grab the pieces adoring the floor, “Okay, I’m going-”
“Thanks- Yeah, I’ll go to sleep.” Y/n rushed out of the kitchen. 
George saluted her, waving his hand. “Bye, Y/n!” 
Once she was out of sight, G started laughing, resting his back on the wall. Matty shook his head at his best friend. 
“Come on…up to bed.” Matty instructed, helping George to walk out of the kitchen. 
The drummer couldn’t stop laughing during the short way towards the living room. Once secured on the comfy couch, Matty let his body rest on the opposite one. He stared at G giggling like a child making kissing sounds. Matty groaned, feeling frustrated about how close Y/n and him were to kissing. 
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People that wanted to be tagged: @deamus-liv @jagz72
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george-weasleys-girl · 9 months
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HI. You can choose whichever of the two (Fred or George, George or Fred, Gred and Forge) or you can do for both of them. I read your prompt list and two of them caught my eye. “First one who makes a noise loses” and “Let’s make a baby.” I anticipate as what you have in mind, you can choose one or both if needed..!
Thank you for your request, lovely! This is my first smut fic.😬I hope you enjoy it!
Oh, So Quiet
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18+ only
George Weasley x fem!reader
Warnings: smut, George tries to be a teasing jerk, fails miserably.
~•~
Y/N grinned. She knew that look, and the fact that, seconds later, George grabbed her hand and pulled her upstairs and into the back of the warehouse proved it.
"You know exactly what you're doing, don't you?" He growled, pressing her against the little corner table.
"Whatever do you mean?" She titled her head, eyes widened.
"You know I can't resist you in that skirt," he moved his hands down her hips and began pushing it up.
Y/N licked her lips, admiring the growing bulge inside his pants. "Oh my, is this that skirt?"
George cocked an eyebrow as he slid his hand between her legs and damn near came then and there when he realized she had a little surprise waiting for him. "No panties?"
"Dear me," she gasped in mock surprise. "I knew there was something I was forgetting this morning."
He pressed her tightly to him grinding his still clothed erection against her exposed pussy. A soft moan fell from her lips, and she reached down to unbutton his pants. But he stopped her mid-movement, trapping both of her hands in one of his. Two can play at this game.
"First one who makes a noise, loses," he mummered in her ear, grinning and absolutely confident that he'd win this little wager.
Y/N smiled and hopped onto the table, spreading herself wide. "You're on."
~•~
It took every ounce of willpower George had to keep himself quiet. He'd never realized how much noise he actually made during sex until he could no longer make a sound. And yet, even as he angled himself to hit the spot that turned his wife into a quivering, moaning mess, he couldn't pull even the tiniest whimper from her open mouth.
George bit down hard on his lip, watching as his cock disappeared over and over inside Y/N's pulsing heat. He sped up his pace, knowing they only had a few minutes before Verity or one of the other employees came looking for them. He instinctively turned to look behind them, just as Y/N clenched around him, snapping his attention back to her.
Her head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and lips drawn tightly together as her orgasm crashed over her. It was more than he could take, and he exploded inside her, unable to stop the guttural moan that escaped his lips.
"Fuck," he chuckled, letting his head fall forward to rest on her shoulder, his hips pumping lazily, riding out the last of their highs.
"I win," she panted, her cheekiness evident even through her breathlessness.
"Indeed you did," he grinned, shifting a little so he could look at her. But much to their disappointment, they didn't have time to bask in the afterglow.
"Mr. Weasley? Mrs. Weasley?" Simon's squeeky voice drifted through the warehouse.
George sighed and pulled out with a soft groan, then quickly got himself in order. "I'll take care of this while you get presentable again," he said, giving her a quick kiss before sprinting around the corner.
~•~
*if you don't want to be tagged in future smut, please let me know!
@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @xmjthewitchx @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @samberriejams @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @mrsgweasley @hufflepuffie @morally-grey-obsessed @fredweasleyyyyy @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @hmisa11 @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @kaysau2510 @qmylovexoxo @planetkt @costheticbabe @drama-queen-fromthevault @thatonepersonwhocantwrite @smallsweetvanillabean @themaraudersslut @hanne-montana @greenapplegrass @el-de-phi @lizzytrees @scooby-doo1995 @phant0mkitsune @spididerman @yoursarahg @marvelgirlstories @theimpossible-girl-whowaited @ceehance @Havenater1920
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rae-pottah · 8 months
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omgomgomg ok we all know that fred teases and stuff all the time and it’s in every fic ever and a lot of the time he’s like mean (or.. in some cases.. well you know) but i’ve literally never seen him like that.. anyway all that to say can you please do a fic (no smut) where he’s just an absolute sweetie and absolutely so whipped for reader (but like not in a cringe way LMAO)
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Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader
Warnings: She/her pronouns, fluff, golden retriever!fred, established relationship
Summary: You have Fred trained well
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*Y/n's POV*
Soon it will be Christmas, and I will be going home with my boyfriend to meet his family for the first time. It's exciting and scary at the same time, but for now, we live like normal. I had just gotten to breakfast when I realized I was missing my potions text book, we had potions first. I let out a frustrated groan.
"What's wrong m'dear?" Fred asked worriedly
"Nothing, just left my text book in the common room, I'll have to eat quickly then go grab it" I breath out
"Ah, no love, I'll go get it! You eat, I've been down here for a while"
"Oh will you Fred?! Thank you m'love!" I kiss him on his cheek before sitting down tiredly. If I had turned around I would have seen his blush and the way he touched his cheek with a soft smile before he went to go get the book
"Whipped" I hear Ginny say under her breath, I look toward the girl with a smile
--meeting the family--
I had been anxious to meet his family, I don't know what they're like. That's why I brought a deck of muggle cards to maybe teach Mr. Weasley a couple games.
I obviously had already met, Percy, George, Ron and Ginny. But the others I had never met. The door gets thrown open
"OH! HOW WONDERFUL! Y/n, we've heard so much about you!" I get pulled into a hug from Mrs. Weasley.
"And I, you! It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Weasley" I suddenly felt calm in her embrace
"Oh please, please darling call me Molly" she starts "We've already started dinner, I hope you don't mind"
"Of course not! please lead the way" I follow her right in through the living room to the kitchen and table area "lovely home you have" I say as I looked around with wide eyes, adoring the wood, adoring the homeliness
"Oh thank you dear, such a sweetheart" she mumbles the last part, hand on her heart
"Oh! Dar-mling! Hw ar ya-" Fred says, while chewing his food, I simply tap my finger to my lips and he lets out a sound of recognition, he chews his food quickly (with his mouth shut), swallows and stands up
"Sorry about that love, How are you?" he asked kindly
"I'm great, darling" I look over to his family who, other than Percy, George, Ron and Ginny, looked shocked
"Bloody hell, that's a brilliant witch!" a tall, muscled, red head, with scars all over any area showing, approached me "I'm Charlie, Charlie Weasley, whatever you're doing, keep doing it."
"Haha, He's trained well" Molly approached with a huge hug
"You are my new daughter in-law, I will accept no one else"
"Oh-Pfft" I let out a giggle as I turn back to Fred, he looks toward the floor with a shy smile and light blush, I grab his hand and sit at the table with my new in-laws
As the night continued I had played 4 or 5 hands of poker with Mr. Weasley and Fred, who was sulking because we were going to play without him
--The common room--
"Darling, hand me that" I pointed at the book to the left of the chair I was on, that was on a stand nearly connected to the couch
"of course Love" he said quickly while playing with a fire cracker he found in one of their old trunks
"Thank you love"
Ginny looks at Ron who looks at George, they all then break into laughter
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That's all I got folks
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cherry-pop-elf · 20 days
Text
Detox Day
George Weasley x Reader
Summary: It had been a long day of work, and your poor Hubby needed to detox a little. So, what better way than to have his loving partner help him out? First to put your son to bed, and remind him he deserves some self care
Warnings: 18+, So much fluff, gentle sex, domestic fluff, oral (male reviving) foot massages, kinda foot fetishy? This fic is very fluffy and playful, technical fem doming? ((George is EXTRA submissive in this one. Love me a man that whimpers. Mm))
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“Dad’s home-!” Little Freddy shouted, the moment he heard the door open. Poor George hardly got a foot through said door, before Junior jumped onto his leg. Holding on for dear life, as if George would fade into a mist. Just never wanting to let go.
Despite being so bone dry tried, he just couldn’t resist his baby boy. He would take his dress suit jacket off, and hang it, before yanking his son into the air. Holding him high, and making him laugh. Squeals of pure delight filled the air, before he was attacked in kisses. Being held back just as tightly, as you watched.
“How was the shop-?” You asked, as you finished up dinner. Normally you helped out, of course. But George wanted to make sure Freddy had a stable life. Even as a baby, George made sure to have him in a sling around him. With ear protection, of course, while working in the shop. Not wanting to have a strained relationship. Much like what happened with his own parents. Seven kids isn’t as stable as people think. He wanted to make sure little junior always had a parent to love him deeply. When Freddy starts Hogwarts, that’s when you’ll return. That’s a promise.
<OH THE STORIES I HAVE TO SHARE WITH YOU> He would sign, so that Freddy didn’t notice, as he was busy hugging his father. Sounded, ironically, like he had himself a very bad day. One for little ears to not bear. As much as he didn’t want Junior to be naive to the world, he still needed a childhood just as much.
“Now come on over to dinner, you two. Still warm.” You gently encouraged, as Freddy was soon climbing onto his father’s shoulders. Quick to sit on them, and rest his head on the older man’s. Oh how identical they were. The same wild hair, same little smile. You loved them so much. Couldn’t stop yourself from joining in with the grins, as you rounded them up for a much needed meal.
For once, George had actually stayed rather quiet. That concerned you, as you ate. The meal wasn’t silent, however. Junior was more than happy to fill the quiet. Talking about the day he had with you. George was smiling at each word, but you could read him like a book. He was tired. So very tired. Not a need for sleep tired. That defeated tired. Suppose the weight of Fred no longer being in the shop was weighing on him again. His other half, if you will, no longer there for support. He felt alone, and tried to drown himself in work again. Guess you’ll need to fix that, won’t you?
“And then and then-“ But a yawn was quick to cut the little boy off. Poor thing talked himself tired again. A habit he’s developed. Just so full of energy. “Georgie, can you clean up while I put Freddy to beddy?” Was asked, as you hoisted the tot in the air. He whined, with the normal complaints of not being sleepy.
“Sure thing, love. Big boys need lots of rest.” George was quick to sooth. A gentle kiss to the little boys temple, and a squeeze to his little hand. “Love you, Junior.” He added, as your little boy smooshed his cheek against George’s. Reminded you so much of when Fred and George often did that. As a mock facade of ‘cute innocent little boys that could do no wrong.’ You don’t know how he picked up the habit, but a sneaking suspicion that there was a ghost at WWW wasn’t out of your mind.
“Love you to, Daddy.” He yawned, as you would bring the little boy to your chest. Humming away, as you escorted him to his bedroom. Rich in all that he loved. Tucked into bed he went, with his favorite little toy. A dragon plush from his uncle Charlie. Still smelled like soot, and that’s what soothed your tike. Snuggled in his grandmas quilts, and listening to you read him a bedtime story.
George would happily watch, as Junior gave him a sleepy wave. Along with a waving paw from the little dragon. George returned it, and gave a little finger wave to the dragon as well. Making sure they were both greeted. Seemed seeing him at the door way was what helped sooth Freddy to sleep. Out like a light, with his father quick to kiss his head. Doing his best to still be as involved in his life as he could. Even when so horribly tired. So much as just being physically there does wonders.
The door would be closed, with his night lights set, before George finally let himself drop his facade. The age in his face there in a blink. The sag, the exhaustion, the pale cheeks, everything seemed to just scream defeat. He learned to hide his emotions very well, after the war. Broke your heart to know it. He was just so damn drained.
“Go and sit down. I’ll grab you a drink, and you can tell me about your day.” You offered, with a kiss to his cheek. Earned you a crooked smile, as that sounded delightful to him. To just take a minute to let it all soak in. Get his muscles undone.
Into the comfortable arm chair he went. Just leaning back into it, and letting himself melt for a moment. Get off his exhausted feet, and breathe. Your poor hubby. Some Fire Whiskey is needed, and many other little TLC’s.
You would return with the glass, and bottle, to be placed on the table next to him. Along came a kiss to his cheek, before you were sitting at his feet. Your head in his lap, as you hugged his legs. Showing all your attention was on him. Making sure he knew you were there.
“Where do I even start-?” He groaned, as he would take the drink in one swift swallow. The way he rubbed his temples told you it all. A rough day at the shop. Your poor hubby. Not a day where he could just be playful and himself. A bullshit day of bullshit and more bullshit.
He would soon ramble about the day, as he poured another glass. Talking on about the parents, as you would work on untying his shoes. Placing them aside, and smiling to yourself. One sock being orange with purple stripes, and the other purple with orange polka dots. Never change, George. Never change.
“Then she asked for a refund. She asked for a refund, on a love potion, because the person she gave it to didn’t fall in love with her. It made sense, until she explained that he used it as perfume. That’s not how it works, and for the love of Merlin-“ He rambled on, as you would soon massage at his aching feet.
“Damn that feels good-“ He groaned, as he leaned back. Whatever else he was trying to say was forgotten. Just the comfort of being pampered. Not something he was used to. He’s normally the one drowning you in affection. So, you pulled a sneaky. You pampered him because it made you feel better. Get rekt.
“Poor baby. I can feel the blisters already. Such a hard working man. Even with magic, you just have to keep busy.” You tsked, playfully, as you gave his foot a hug. Making him playfully push at your cheek with the socked appendage.
“Got a thing for feet or something, you freak?” He teases on, as you gave a playful bite at his foot. “Freak of nature-“ He scoffed, but you both laughed. Hypocrite he was. Have to be a weirdo to think you could become one of the richest men in the Gaelic isles from a joke shop. Then prove yourself right.
“You are to be blamed for it all.” You egged on, before you would snuggled between his legs. Your chin on his chair, and looking up at him. So much love and devotion, returned in your own gesture. Those big brown eyes. You could stare into them forever. So full of spark, even after so many years. They were still so full. Despite it all, he was alive. Both physically, and mentally.
“Gonna just stare at me all night? Not complaining-“ He would smirk, as he would sway his cup of whiskey. A satisfying buzz on his tongue, as you were happy he was relaxing. He needed it, and you were going to make sure he would get some good sleep tonight.
With a grab of your wand, you gave it a flick. Casted a silencing charm, and an alert charm as well. In case Freddy needed either of you, but also warn you so you don’t traumatize him with what you were about to do.
“I have other things in mind.” You winked, as he rose a brow. With the wand set aside, as you would kissed his thigh. Taunting him, as you would rub at his calves. Getting him to give a blissful hum, as he closed his eyes. Just enjoying being touched.
Just something slow, and gentle. That’s what he needed. He deserved it. To relax, and for you to pamper him. You both loved it. To flip the script, and enjoy each other’s company. To hear each others whispers, and blissful sighs.
“Let’s get you more comfortable.” You whispered, before starting to unzip his dress pants. The sigh of relief he gave, when you pulled them down, was just heaven to your ears. To admire the hard on forming in the orange fabric. You couldn’t help but kiss it, and appreciate it. The simple act of being aroused by someone he loved so much.
“Such a tease.” He muttered, as he enjoyed another lazy sip. Wasn’t something he normally did. Made him feel like some Head Of The House bullshit he hated. As being in a family of seven siblings, everyone played a roll. There was no real ‘boss’ of the family. Molly more so was the leader, than any boss. He hated the idea of hierarchy, but he knew you genuinely enjoyed these moments. Communication is sexy.
“Learned it from the best.” You winked, as he rolled his eyes. <SARCASTIC BITCH> He signed. Well, more so said Female Dog. Even with sign language, he was cheeky. You retaliated with a flip off. “Ah, how educated of you. I would think you were a pure blooded noble~” He fanned himself, making you snort into his thigh.
“Let me be sexy, for like two seconds-!” You begged, between your snorts. That had him laugh even more. It was hard to take things to serious, and that was wonderful. Most of the time. Just to be at a point that it’s just laughter, instead of awkward noises and averting eyes.
“Ok ok, be sexy. Go-“ He finger gunned, with a wink. That had you slap his thigh. “Gregory, please-!” Was just more laughter, as you tried to get back in the mood. Even if you couldn’t, the love of laughter was all that mattered. You loved how he found a way to make you laugh, no matter what. It was wonderful.
“Alright, I yield. Go on ahead. Be sexy.” He would fight his giggles, with another sip from his whiskey. Savoring the flavor, as to try and calm himself down. Along with not he sloshed, because he damn well wanted to enjoy the moment.
With your breathe caught, and tears wiped away, you were finally able to return to the prize. Had you biting your lip, as you admired it. After so many times, you still couldn’t help but get excited to. No matter the years.
You would tug down his underwear, and watched it spring to life. The groan of relief was sending a thrill down your spine, as he was able to get the relief of the air on his exposed cock. Chilling, but needed from the heat of the whiskey in his system.
“Now time for my drink.” You grinned, as you kissed the tip of his cock. A few gentle kisses down it, as it throbbed against your lips. Excited to be given attention. You were more than happy to give him such. Little kisses, up and down his dick. Just taking it easy, as he enjoyed the view.
“Wonder if I’ll be able to taste that whiskey….” You absentmindedly muttered, before you run your tongue up the side. That got him to shiver, as he would hold onto the chair. Just letting you take full control, as he enjoyed the buzz in his chest and groin.
He was just so cute. How his freckles looked like stars, on those roses cheeks. The way his eyelids fluttered, when you licked over his tip. How he bit his lip, when you gave attention to his balls. He had so many beautiful expressions. Who could resist a submissive man?
“Please…..” He almost whimpered, as he stayed a good boy. Keeping his hands firm on the arm rests, and letting you remain in charge. Good boys deserved rewards, and rewards were given to those good boys.
The head of his cock would slip past your lips, and he moaned in relief. The heat of his cock in your mouth was exciting, as his need for you was impossible to hide. How his heart was racing in your mouth, as you took more down.
“Fuck….Fuck that feels good-“ He moaned for you, as you looked up to him. How his face was even more flushed, and how his nose did its cute little scrunch. Oh how you loved when his nose would speak for him. Was just an adorable thing. Had you smile, as you would bob your head. Pulling out more moans of pleasure.
It was simple, like that. It didn’t always have to be complex. Nor hot and steamy. Sometimes, you just wanted to pamper your partner. Make love. Remind them how much you love them. Course, it’s also quite the bonus to hear all the sounds they made. Not distracted by the heat of the moment. All for you to enjoy.
After a while, you could feel his cock throbbing in your mouth. Had your eyes look up, and you could see the way he was trying to hold back. The way he was panting, with his pretty lips parted. His hair slightly a mess, and his eyes closed. Such beautiful lashes he had. Ever fluttering, when your rubbed your tongue over a vain.
He was close, and you wanted him to spill. Spill into your mouth, and watch him whimper your name. To breathe heavy, and drool ever so slightly. To just let all that tension leave his body, as you would take good care of him. Make sure he was cozy, and relaxed.
“Fuck fuck fuck-“ His whimpers answered your prayers, as you would take him deep down your throat. Savoring the feeling, as his cock was spurting down it. Oh his moans were just the trumpets of heaven. How his chest heaved, and his stomach clenched. The way his head rolled back, and his mouth opened wider. You didn’t need to get off. That was your reward. A whimpering man.
With his high coming down, you would pull off from his cock. Happy to have swallowed it all, and even gave the tip a little peck. As a thanks. Thanks for giving you such a beautiful sight.
“That hit the spot.” He sighed, as you stood up. A gentle hand to brush his hair aside, as he kissed his cheek. Right on the scar, from when he lost his ear. A reminder you loved all of him. Every, last, inch.
“I better return the favor-“ He said, but you poked his nose. “In the morning, hm? Time for you to get some needed sleep.” You would hush, with another kiss to his cheek. That got a whine of protest, but he knew he was a bit tipsy. Best to enjoy the buzz, instead of risking a hang over.
With his pants and underwear taken off, he would strip off the rest of his exhausted clothes. Nothing a Accio for his sleep wear couldn’t fix. Into those comfy pajamas bottoms, and old shirts that once belonged to his older siblings.
The two of you would quickly give one last check to Freddy, seeing him peacefully asleep, before returning to your own bedroom. To go through your own sleep routine, before snuggling close. Yourself in one of his stolen shirts. Nothing more comfortable than that.
“What did I do to deserve you?” He asked, as he would play with your hair. “Exist.” You smirked, before he rolled his eyes. Regardless, those words meant a lot. It’s been such a burden to be a lonely twin, but you’ve made it easier. You made him alive.
“Love you, so much, jellybean.” He would give you a gentle kiss, and you returned it. Tucked under his chin you went, as he hugged you tighter. A squeeze of reassurance, as the sounds of late night Diagon soothed you both to sleep.
A simple night, but those were cherished all the same.
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71 notes · View notes
f1crecs · 3 months
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Fic Rec List - Sex Worker AUs
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Lando/Oscar
nsfw: dancing on quicksand by @tearstrung | E | 3.3k Lando is outrageous, and Oscar struggles to understand what's a joke and what isn't - until he sees a link on Twitter. This fic is red hot, very funny, and perfectly characterised! Oscar's special brand of bamboozlement is especially wonderful here, as he comes to terms with Lando's job on the side. The ending is like a beautiful punch to the gut. Love it!
'Though, the guy’s skin is similar in color to Lando’s—olivey, the natural tan Lando wears year-round, even if he’s barely been in the sun with his shirt off. The same big hands, which don’t really match up with his small stature, rippled with lithe muscle; followed by a wide ribcage that slips down into a tiny, tapered waist. Nipples, shades darker and always hard from what Oscar can see from a long scroll. At the tips of the guy’s fingers, Oscar notices leftover chew marks, the skin pulled back, nails bitten short into nubs.'
Carlos/Lando
nsfw: when the time comes by @venerat | E | 7.6k Lando asks his friend Carlos, an escort, to arrange an appointment with another male escort for him. Lando has never been with a man and wants to have the experience. When Pierre falls ill and has to cancel, Carlos decides to go in his stead. Only one problem, though - Carlos is in love with Lando. Will he be able to keep his emotions in check? This situation could have been awkward but Lando is nothing but sweet and kind with Carlos. The encounter results in a lot of revelations for them both, and although they seem to start the next phase of their relationship a bit backwards, they clearly have a future together.
Time doesn’t seem to be very real. Carlos thinks. He thought it would be different than this, that’s all. Different from the way it’s—happening. Because the way it’s happening feels like sex. Real sex. It doesn’t feel like work. It doesn’t feel like a transaction. It feels like—trite; cliche, of course, but—it feels like passion.
Charles/Pierre
nsfw: pièce de résistance by @capsize (copenhagenborn) | E | 14.5k Pierre, a sex worker, is approached one night by the assistant of someone calling himself Marc. Marc, it turns out, is really Prince Charles of Monaco and is looking for an arrangement. This is quite low-angst for a royalty AU (don't get me wrong, I love my angst) but this fic just has them slot together so easily. Pierre is rather happy as a sex worker, which is actually a nice change when it comes to sex work fic. The relationship side of things is slow burn and even the inevitable miscommunication part of the story is done so well I enjoyed it.
'Pierre does spend the night. He sends Charles a picture of his gateau marcel and soaks in the tub as he finishes the bottle of wine they were supposed to share. The house is predictably a mess when he gets home: George is crying on the couch with his eyes glued to the television, a small Union Jack pulled from somewhere and now proudly displayed in front of him. Alex is sitting by his feet, badly hiding his laughter as he scrolls through what Pierre can only imagine being memes. Lando is passed out in the corner, a bottle of vodka close to his hand, while Oscar stares at him with an oddly closed-off look in his eyes. Pierre isn’t quite up to date on the current geopolitical relationship between Australia and the rest of the commonwealth. Pierre sits down next to Max at the dining table, sips his water and goes, “What does it mean if someone has to be summoned after the death of dear old Lizzy?”'
nsfw: cause baby, I'd be satisfied forever by @wolfiemcwolferson | E | 88.5k Pierre, retired from racing after a career-ending injury, is closer to 40 than 30 now and has reinvented himself as a designer. He's also venturing out of the closet. He is put in touch with Charles, who gets by as a sugar baby, and decides this is a perfect way to get some experience dating another man. Pierre finds himself developing feelings for Charles. I'm at a point now with @wolfiemcwolferson fic where I just gesture wildly at whatever they've written and make vague noises but in the interests of trying to sound like the sane person I pretend to be, this fic is a perfect distillation of the Pierre/Charles relationship. What if they didn't meet until later in life? What if Charles never went beyond karting? What if the age gap was larger? All of these, and yet, it's still them. There is a "soulmates in ever universe" theme in the Piarles fandom and this story absolutely embodies it.
'He’s beautiful and he smells like cologne and something fresh and he’s still not let go of Pierre’s hand - the cool leather underneath Pierre’s hand seems so…foreign. So flipped. Pierre considers all the time he touched other people’s hands while wearing leather gloves. “I hope I am not late,” Charles smiles at him still. “I missed my train and I -” “Charles,” Pierre says, realizing that Charles seems a bit nervous - a bit ruffled. “I only just arrived. “Come and let’s go inside. We can get warm.” His smile makes his perfect face less so - a mere mortal instead of the god he is and Pierre gets it immediately.'
Charles/Sebastian
nsfw: Be Snoozing That Lust In The Morning by @sebchalex & @meova101 | E | 14.5k When Formula 1 decides to clean up their sponsors, teams are left scrambling to find money. Ferrari finds an unconventional way to get more budget – Charles starts an OnlyFans. The initial premise of Charles having to get an OnlyFans to help Ferrari is just unhinged enough that it could be real – but this fic has a lot more to offer than just comedy. The way it follows Charles personal growth from not believing he could actually make money of OF, being embarrassed when Seb subscribes, to them working together to produce record breaking content and falling for eachother in between – its like a modern day fairytale, if Cinderella had to sell nudes to help the evil stepmom with money.
"This was the only way," Charles says. "I know this could tarnish the Ferrari legacy and everything, but I want to help my team. I will do anything to make them stay on top." Once he finishes his sentence, he looks straight at Sebastian. It's already disgraceful enough that he had to do this in the first place, but this type of rejection coming from Sebastian is making him feel worse. Finally, Sebastian raises his hands in a yielding gesture. "Fine," he says, sending a breath of relief through Charles. "I still have a problem with it." "Seb, I know. I wish there was another way as well, but—" "It's not about that," Sebastian says, looking even more pissed. "Have you realised that your pictures are terrible?" Well. Charles certainly hadn’t expected that. "What?" "Charles, if you are charging that much in the first place, then you should at least put in a little bit more effort," Sebastian explains, extending his hands out. "Your lighting was horrible, and it was blurry. Why did no one offer help?"
nsfw: With you I'm in real danger by @jean----ralphio | E | 55.5k Charles, a well-known porn actor, shelters from a mob of fans by hiding in a rare books shop. The bookseller recognises him but is too considerate to say anything about it. Charles notices and they strike up a friendship, and more. Charles and Seb are from such very different worlds. Charles is accustomed to sometimes being judged for his line of work but Seb treats him with utmost respect at all times, which should be a low bar but isn't. Things get a bit rocky for them in true romance story fashion, but all is well by the end.
Sebastian feels himself go bright red, as Charles’ mischievous smile turns gleeful. “I can tell the instant I meet someone whether they know who I am or not,” he explains. “So I knew right away that you know of me.” “Ah. Sorry.” Sebastian feels foolish, guilt settling over him for not having been honest about it from the beginning.
Pierre/Yuki
nsfw: your mouth makes me reconsider where my heart lies by @yukierres | E | 10.4k Pierre, still an F1 driver, discovers a streamer who plays video games while using sex toys and is immediately fascinated (and hugely turned on). He lavishes gifts and money on the man on his screen, and finds himself falling in love with someone he hasn't even met. The guys are so well characterised. Yuki is unashamed, he loves what he does, is brilliant at it and gets well paid for it too. You can see why Pierre couldn't resist. Pierre is confused and ashamed as hell to begin with (that darned Catholic guilt again) but can't stay away. The author grows the relationship to a point where it seems inevitable that Yuki will one day feel comfortable enough meeting Pierre in real life.
"That was -" Pierre says around breaths, a laugh in his voice, disbelief in what has just happened. Yuki himself has flopped back on the bed, laptop now beside him as he lies against the pillows. His eyes are wet and pink looking, a content sheen in them. "That was something else." A pleased cat-like expression forms on his mouth. "You enjoyed that Pierre?" He says with a blissed-out face, attempting to bat his eyes temptingly at the camera before yawning tiredly, the whole face scrunching up. It is more cute than seductive in the end, but it doesn’t matter because Pierre is head over heels either way.
Daniel/Max
nsfw: chemical highs and clear blue skies by @yekoc | E | 43.5k Daniel is a porn actor, which is where he meets newbie Max. Max, along with his cats, crash on Daniel’s couch whilst they continue to shoot various scenes together. They get to know each other and get to miscommunicate on the way to comfort. The pacing of the plot was really pleasant to read, as was the dialogue. Max is flippant but also careful and cautious at the same time. Daniel is self assured and kind and perhaps a little too trusting. Both of them keep their cards close and all of it makes for a very gratifying read.
'Max laughs, just a little bit, something that in someone else you might call a giggle. Daniel hasn’t seen him laugh before. He’s seen him come—in person, and then over and over again on video that one night, which he should probably forget about really quickly. Max laughing is oddly similar; it breaks something hard about him all to pieces.'
nsfw: Fly Fast (With Broken Wings) by @mysticalbreadcollective | E | 44.2k (ongoing) Max is an escort who turned to sex work due to lack of options. Daniel is an F1 driver, and Max's first ever customer. Daniel quickly becomes obsessed with Max - but the Max that Daniel first knows is a construct - the real Max guards his feelings out of necessity and can't afford to go all in with Daniel. Daniel doesn't understand the precariousness of Max's situation, or why Max would choose to keep working and earning his own money - keeping his independence - rather than agree to become Daniel's kept man. This fic digs deeply into the power imbalance and dubious consent issues of sex work, the necessary artifice of it and the need for emotional armour and distance on the part of the worker. Daniel, sadly, proves Max right with some of his behaviour - he can be selfish and spoiled, and sometimes outright cruel. There is love on both sides, but this relationship is a minefield they each misstep in more than once.
'“You think you are saving me, but it will be someone else. And maybe they will not be so nice.” Emilian says, and oh fuck, his voice is cracking a little at the end and Daniel can’t stand it. Because Daniel knows. He knows the types of clients, can imagine them, the ones that would pay extortionate amounts of money for Emilian. He feels sick hearing Emilian’s voice shake a little, wonders how nervous Emilian has been for this. What he was expecting, who he was expecting. When the agency told him that he was meeting someone who’d pay extra for him. If Emilian had built it all up in his head what he’d be asked to do. And then to say he’d been hopeful that it had been Daniel. Shit.'
Daniel/Lando
nsfw: asunder, asunder by @ladyeggplant | E | 53.3k Lando is very socially awkward, highly intelligent and cashed up. He decides the best way to lose his virginity is to hire an escort. The progression of the relationship here from transactional to something more is not smooth. Lando really doesn’t have much of an understanding about how a relationship should work and makes a few big missteps, especially later in the story as the emotional stakes get higher. Daniel is professional and gentle as he gradually figures out exactly what Lando needs. Lando is physically inexperienced and emotionally awkward and nothing about it is easy.
Silence settles over steeping tea and half-eaten fruit, and he wishes he’d left the music on, because at least it would make this awkwardness bearable. He’s had super wealthy clients before, but none of them this young, and none of them this achingly insecure where it was practically bleeding out of them. Everyone who has ever booked him as wanted him there, obviously—it feels like Lando would rather eat glass than sit in the same room as him. Daniel clears his throat. “So, first time, huh?” Lando chokes mid sip.
Carlos/Charles
In for a penny, in for a pound by @f1-stuff | M | 7k (ongoing) Charles, smarting after being unceremoniously dumped by his girlfriend, hires an escort to take as his plus one to Arthur's wedding. A dashingly handsome man turns up to the rendezvous, and they figure out Charles checked the wrong box when he was making the appointment. He's spent the money, Carlos is easy company, so he decides to roll with it. This fic is amusing and sweet. Carlos is wonderful at his job - perceptive and empathetic and kind, and is probably way ahead in understanding of Charles's sexuality than Charles is himself.
“Charles...listen,” he says, shifting slightly in his chair. He looks self-assured and confident with one leg crossed over the other, hands loosely clasped over his knee. Charles is annoyed and jealous of him all at once. “I probably shouldn’t say this, considering why you hired me. But you are trying to prove to your ex that you aren’t sad and lonely by hiring someone to pretend to be in love with you...” The man raises his brows at him. “You do see the irony, no?” Charles scoffs, shaking his head down at his lap. But he can’t deny that this guy sort of, possibly, has a point. Great, even the escort he’s paying to not make him feel so pitiful is calling him out.
Mark/Seb
nsfw: pleaser by @alltimecharlo | E | 34.6k Seb is a student struggling to make rent, and Mark is a very successful lawyer. They enter a mutually beneficial agreement. This story is fantastic - the author characterises them both beautifully, and they are the perfect balance of sweet and hot and funny. I particularly loved Sebastian's first trip to Mark's house... A gorgeous story, with lots to love.
Mark’s sitting right there. Like, directly in front of the changing room in one of the extremely comfy-looking armchairs, his eyes latching directly onto his form once it’s revealed and lingering there so heavily that Sebastian almost feels the need to hide his entirely clothed body. The older’s green eyes flick up and down his lithe frame so intensely that Seb can feel his stomach doing flips and a burning heat instilling under his skin. It only worsens when he watches Mark’s tongue dart outwards to wet at his lips.
In order to keep this list organised we have chosen to categorise it as 'Sex Worker AUs'– note that we understand that some tropes here are not always sexual in nature nor are they always categorised as sex work. We respect any and all sex workers and non sex workers alike!
106 notes · View notes
vettelsdarling · 1 year
Note
Heyyy I’m the one who req the Instagram ff and I loved it so muchhhhhh and I want to ask for another but where it’s like a mix of an actual ff but also an Instagram ff? So here’s my prompt: Mick and Reader are both going through tough times regarding their dads because Michael isn’t doing well and readers dad passed away when she was in her mid teens. She and him are best friends because of her dads connection to his dad and they grew up in close proximity. She comes to all his races (can u do it so that mick is racing for Mercedes instead of George??????) and she is his biggest supporter. After a lot of time, Mick confesses to reader because he’s liked her for a long time and reader agrees to date and they make like a soft reveal on Instagram! Thank youuuu Elllll
𝑫𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚 𝑰𝒔𝒔𝒖𝒆𝒔
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➪Interesting plot, I like it!
➪Again, I'm pretty new to instagram fics, so I hope I succeeded in bringing your vision to life.
➪Wasn’t completely sure what you meant by “mix”, but I hope this is what you meant!
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Things to note:
❥I took some inspo from “Daddy Issues“ by TNBHD
❥You’re a famous ballerina, daughter of a famous lawyer and business man, Erik Klum (name is made up btw.)
❥You and Mick are 2 years apart
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Pairing: Mick Schumacher x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, a lot of angst, a lot of daddy issues
Word Count: 4.1k+
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“𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚 𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒖𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒐𝒐.”
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Euripides once said, “To a father growing old, nothing is dearer than a daughter.” The saying might've been true, but you never got to experience it for yourself. You never saw him grow old. Your dear father never got to see his sweet little girl grow old either. You missed him every single day.
Backstory
Your father, Erik Klum, was a famous lawyer, who handled Michael Schumacher’s monetary belongings. That's how you got to meet Mick Schumacher. The famous Formula One driver's son. The two of you practically grew up together. His mother, Corinna, was like a mother to you. Your own died when she gave birth to you. Mick and Gina were like your siblings. They were near your age, so the three of you had no problem getting along.
Your father did his best to provide for you. He funded your dream. Ballet. Your mother was a ballerina who travelled the world to perform. That was how she met your father. He also funded any extracurriculars you had time for along with whatever pampering he believed you needed. He wasn't a mother, so he never really had a clue about what a daughter would want, but he always tried his best. Corinna was there to help him out at times, which you also appreciated more than anything.
When you were coming into your pre-teens, you were sent to a ballet boarding school. Your father had set aside enough cash to get you there, as it was a part of your dream to be just like your mother.
At the airport, everyone came to say goodbye to you. You were moving all the way to France to pursue your ballet. Mick and Gina both cried, but Michael assured them it’d be alright. Your father only cried tears of joy. The way he saw your mother in you made his heart give out. You didn’t think the last thing you’d ever hear him say was,
“You look just like her. I’m so proud of you, my little girl.”
You spent the first couple of years training hard and working your way up the ranks at the academy. The process was halted, however, when you’d gotten a phone call from your father followed by a message.
You couldn’t believe what you were reading. Michael was in a coma. Your father explained it’d happened due to a ski accident. He’d booked you a ticket home so that you could go visit. After all, Michael was like a second father to you.
When you got there, you saw the immense grief etched on everyone’s faces. It happened so suddenly. Nobody had seen it coming. Your heart ached, but you knew it was nothing compared to what Mick and Gina were feeling. The three of you hugged and cried for the most part of that day. You stayed for two more days, grieving with everyone before you inevitably had to go back to France.
You managed to keep your composure whilst at the academy. With the updates you’d get from Mick and Gina, you were reassured. Some time passed, and you’d heard that Michael was out of his coma. It sent a huge wave of relief and helped ease your mind when you were alone. You’d been prone to panic and anxiety attacks.
A couple of more years flew by, and you suddenly got a phone call from Mick. He never really called without texting you first, because he knew you had a strict schedule. Luckily, you had your phone when he called.
“Hello?” You heard from the other end of the line.
“Hey, Mickie, what’s with the sudden call?” You asked.
“You have to get home right now. I’ll explain when you get here. We bought you a ticket, your flight leaves early tomorrow.” You felt anxious. Fear started eating away at your feet, making its way up your legs to your stomach and to your throat.
“Okay,” you croaked. The line disconnected and you immediately ran off to administration to tell them you had a family emergency and had to go home for a while. They gave you two weeks, which in retrospect, wouldn’t be enough for what was to come.
When you came to the airport, you realized your father wasn’t in sight. It was just Corinna, Mick, and Gina. Your heart sank. Had something happened to your father? Your head started pounding.
“Hi darling,” said Corinna and tried to keep her composure.
“My dad… where is he?” You asked with a shaky voice, scared of what her response would be. Much to your dread, your suspicions were confirmed,
“I’m sorry, my sweet girl. I’m so sorry.” She didn’t even have the heart to tell you the words. He was gone. You broke down. Mick and Gina looked absolutely devastated for you. Your only driving force was gone. You were all alone. You couldn’t think straight. All you did on the car ride home was cry out to your father. You couldn’t believe that he was gone. It didn’t seem real to you.
When Corinna pulled into the lot of their place, soon to be yours as well, you got out with the help of Mick. Your head was too cloudy to walk by yourself. You could barely form a coherent sentence.
The funeral was the worst part. You watched as they sank your father’s mahogany coffin into the ground.
“Papa! No! Please don’t leave me, papa!” You screamed as you fell to your knees. You couldn’t take it. You never got to say goodbye to him. You never had the chance to say a few final words to him. He’d been taken from you without warning.
Mick and Gina helped you through the first two weeks, as you had to go back. Since you weren’t an adult yet, your aunt had gained custody of you, and you had to move from Switzerland to Germany. Moving away from all you’d ever known was tough on top of the death of your beloved father.
Years passed by at the academy, and you were a full-fledged Ballerina. You performed in various theatres and at famous events. You’d become somewhat of a household name in ballet. Many called you a prodigy, which you were. Your upbringing was based around ballet.
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Present
You'd still kept in contact with the two Schumacher siblings during all the years you spent in France and Germany. You visited them sometimes for minor holidays, which always lifted your spirits.
Mick had started a career in racing, just like his father. He told you that he'd earned a seat at Mercedes. You had come to his races before. Several times, in fact, when he was with Haas. You were beyond ecstatic when you heard he'd earned a place in a dominant car for the new season. Next to Lewis Hamilton, no less.
You wore one of Mick’s shirts when he came out of the shower. His hair was dripping onto his chest, and he had a towel wrapped around his waist.
“Hey, you should wear one of my new Mercedes shirts to the race today,” suggested Mick. For a while, you’d had growing feelings for Mick, and coming to all his races only made him admire you that much more. He’d come to your performances as well, and it always made you happy to see him amongst the huge audience you normally had.
“Hmm, maybe. Won’t people be suspicious though? I mean, I’d look like your…” you trailed off, hoping he’d finish off.
“No, don’t worry about it! Everyone already knows you’re like a sister to me,” He chuckled and threw you one of his shirts. It had 47 on the back of it. Your heart stung briefly when he said that you were like a sister to him.
The Australian Grand Prix was a strike of luck for you, as your performance was in the same city. You were performing in Her Majesty’s Theatre later that day. You’d practiced ever since you heard about the gig.
“You should wear one of my leotards for my performance tonight. It’s only fair!” You joked, watching as he laughed along with you. Domestic moments like this were what had made you fall in love in the first place. You travelled with him constantly. It was hard to not catch any feelings. You could only wish for him to one day feel the same.
“You’re coming to my dad’s 50th birthday luncheon next week, right? Gina said she’d come. Corinna too,” you asked. There was no race the following weekend, so he agreed to come with no hesitation. You always baked a cake on your father’s birthdays to celebrate for yourself. Sometimes Mick was there to join you. This time was different. It wasn’t just baking a cake and singing a gentle birthday song for your father. You wanted to go all in. He deserved it.
“Klum… I don’t want you to overwork yourself with the luncheon, okay? Let me help you.” Mick was always really considerate of you, which was enough to make your heart melt into a bowl of soup. You wanted nothing more than to spend every single birthday of your dad’s with him.
“Mickie… you know how much it means to me. 50 is a special number. That’s you know… halfway.” You mumbled the last part, but it was loud enough for Mick to hear it.
“I know, I know. If you really think you can do it on your own, of course, I’ll let you. I’m just saying, if you need help; I’m here for you.” You nodded and smiled at him. He gave you a warm smile back. It felt like it hugged you.
“We should probably hurry up, though. We have to be there in time.” Mick quickly found some boxers and other articles of clothes to wear for the day. The two of you were used to seeing each other without any clothes on. It felt natural. Yet, your cheeks were still dusted pink. Whilst he got into his clothes, you found a skirt to go with his shirt. It was barely visible due to the oversized shirt, but you wore it anyway. With the outfit, you wore a pair of white satin high heels you’d been gifted by Jimmy Choo. Because you were wearing his shirt, Mick had coordinated his outfit to match yours. You knew the media would try to gossip about it, but in all honesty— you wanted them to.
When the two of you arrived at the paddock, cameras were already everywhere and ready to snap photos of you and Mick in matching outfits. The paparazzi were ruthless. Anything to get the latest inside scoop. Even though you were used to the attention, you hated having your private life revealed. It was the main reason you never told a soul where you lived. Only the Schumachers, your aunt, and some of the drivers knew. You had a long-time friend from the academy who also knew because she often came over to your place to take care of it whilst you were gone.
Luckily, behind you was Lewis. He got all of the attention with his fashion statement. You adored his sense of fashion, and so did the media.
“Viel Glück, Mickie,” you said when Mick got into the car. You gave him a hug and stepped aside for the engineers and strategists. You were incredibly proud of Mick for landing a place with the silver arrows.
It was lights out and you saw all the cars race almost as if they were synchronized. It reminded you of some of the dances you’d done in the past. Before you mostly did solos, anyway.
You watched as Mick went from P13 and worked his way up to P1. You couldn’t even believe your eyes. It was incredible. With only a few laps left, he was able to fend off the driver behind him and go on to finish on pole. Everyone went to the celebration and when Mick came over to hug all his coworkers, he saw you in the midst and pulled you in for a big hug.
“This is for Erik and my dad. I did it!” Out of excitement, he kissed your forehead harshly and went on to hug the rest of the crew. Though the kiss didn’t have any meaning other than that of Mick’s elated state, it meant the world to you.
The interviewer was none other than Nico Rosberg. He came up to Mick and asked a couple of questions about the competition and whatnot, before moving on to ask about you. Mick was a bit surprised, but he answered with what media training he’d been through.
“I think Klum and I both have a lot in common and we grew up together, so I see her as a little sister. She’s very supportive of me.” It was a perfect response in his mind.
“This is your first win, you must be very excited!” Said Rosberg.
“Naturally. I’m dedicating it to Erik Klum and my father. They are both such important people to me and have shaped me into becoming the man I am today. Well, the man who just won this race.” It was sentimental and all the tabloids would be sure to latch onto that.
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A week later, you were out shopping for ingredients with Mick. You'd spent the night before decorating your house. Apparently, you hadn't been discreet enough.
Sportsgossipc
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47,221 likes
sportsgossipc Ballerina Y/n Klum spotted grocery shopping with Formula One driver Mick for Erik Klum’s death anniversary. Are they cosying up together with a celebration?
user1 Is it just me or is this sort of disrespectful to “gossip about”
user2I was about to say the same thing…
user3 This is wrong… Erik died in January. It's for his birthday probably
user4 Leave them alone lol they already got so much shit to handle
user5 First of all: it’s Erik’s birthday. Second of all: If it were his death anniversary, why would you make it into a gossip story??? Third of all: “cosying up together with a celebration”? What is that supposed to mean?
When you came home and went to post a happy birthday post for your dad, you saw a dm from your friend. It showed you and Mick shopping. The photo itself wasn't upsetting in particular. No, the caption is what got you. Mick walked up behind you to see what you were doing. When his eyes locked with the screen, he was shocked.
“They have no right,” said Mick and hugged your waist. You tried to not let it bother you too much and instead posted a story about it, followed by a birthday post for your father.
y/nklum posted a new story, mickschumacher posted a new story
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y/nklum✔︎
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Liked by mickschumacher and 233,754 others
y/nklum You would be 50 today. I miss you every day. I know it’s been a while, but I will always mark my calendar on this day. Thank you for everything you’ve sacrificed and done for me, happy birthday papa❤️
mickschumacher Happy birthday, Erik❤️
ginaschumacher ❤️❤️❤️
You put your phone aside and started cooking. Gina and Corinna were going to arrive precisely at noon, so you had a good 3 hours to finish everything. You ended up letting Mick help you, as you realized there were way too many things to do.
As time passed, you got the food ready and the guests arrived. Everyone sat down by the table you had in your dining room. Next to you, you’d placed a nice portrait of your father. Before eating, a birthday song was sung in his honour.
“This is amazing, kids. You know what you’re doing!” Corinna complimented your cooking. Your usual meal was hotel food or restaurant food, but if there was one thing you could do well; it was cook. Your father had taught you from a young age, and the academy also required you to start cooking your own meals as you grew older.
“Thank you so much, Corinna, I’m glad you like it.” You smiled. Corinna was more of a mother to you than your aunt. You barely ever saw her even though you had to move all of your stuff over to her place. You spent most holidays with the Schumachers when you weren’t in France. After France, you got a house close to your second family.
“That reminds me! I found your father’s old wedding band in our storage. I figured you’d want it.” Corinna gave you a small box which contained the ring. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your cheeks. It was a beautiful gold ring with a tiny diamond in it. You hugged it and thanked her for it.
After everyone went home, you were left with Mick. He offered to clean everything so that you could take a breather outside on your patio.
After he’d finished cleaning, he met you outside. You sat on a wooden porch swing. Before taking a seat next to you, he admired how the sunset hit your face perfectly. You were beautiful. Your legs were crossed over each other and the way your face lit up when you saw him… he could barely contain his feelings for you.
“He was a great man.” Mick finally took that seat next to you.
“I miss him.”
“It’s only natural. I miss him too,” he replied calmly.
“I want him to know how I’m doing,” you whispered, trying not to cry any more than you’d already done.
“He knows. Trust me, he does.”
“Do you think he’s disappointed? Because I can’t sleep alone? Because I can’t sleep without having nightmares of him?” You leaned into Mick’s chest, hearing his heartbeat.
“Not at all. I think he’s proud of the incredible woman you’ve grown up to be.” He rubbed your back and pulled you closer to him.
“Will you stay with me forever?” You asked.
“Of course, Schatz.” Your heart started beating fast. It was the first time he’d ever called you a pet name. Usually, he resorted to your name, a nickname, or your last name. You acted as if you hadn’t heard it so that it wouldn’t create any embarrassing tension between you.
“I’m sorry. I’m being clingy and needy, aren’t I?” You sighed and looked up at the setting sun.
“Never, Liebling. I know that you’ve got daddy issues because I do too.” Hearing him say the actual term out loud made you want to bury your face in his chest and cry until you no longer had any tears left.
“My dad is still… well, you know.”
“Yeah… it must be horrible. I don’t know how it feels, but I’m always here for you.” You snuggled into him.
“I don’t know what I’d do if I had lost him that day. You’re really strong. You should know that. I will always be by your side,” Mick spoke softly.
“If you were mine, I would run away and hide from all of this fame and attention with you. We could enjoy our lives to the fullest extent.” You felt like your heart had stopped. You pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes,
“If I was yours?”
“I tried to keep it to myself… I know you probably don’t feel the same way. I’m an older brother to you, right?” He said with a hint of regret in his voice. You immediately cupped his face with both of your hands,
“You have no idea how happy I am right now.”
“You feel the same way?”
“Of course, I do! I’ve been in love with you for a while now.” You smiled.
“I’ve loved you since you first took off to the academy. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you.” He pulled you over his lap and hugged you tightly as if you were a fragile little thing.
“I love you, Schatz.”
“I love you too, Mickie.”
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A few months had passed before the two of you agreed to go public with your relationship. The timing was perfect because you attended the last race of the season. The two of you still had your reservations about going public, so you played a little game with your fans to see if they could figure it out from subtle pictures. Of course, many of the drivers knew a few weeks after it’d happened, but you’d asked them not to tell.
y/nklum✔︎
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Liked by mickschumacherand 355,860 others
y/nklum Came to the show with flowers and carried my heels home for me after❤️
lewishamilton Show was great, keep it up!
landonorris I fell asleep but the parts I saw were amazing👍
y/nklum Why am I not surprised😒
charlesleclerc I know, I'm such a gentleman
y/nklum Hmmm🤔
user1 NOOOOO WE LOST HER😭😭😭 MOTHER NOOOO🙏🙏🙏
user2 crying rn
user3 my parasocial relationship is quaking💔
user4 It's Charles😭👍
user5 How do you know?
user4 Didn't you see the comment he made? It's definitely him💀
user5 Oh💀😭
user6 what in the soft launch-
user7 LMAO I CAN’T WITH CHARLES BEING SO OBVIOUS
user8 What abt Mick😭💔
user9 He said several times he sees her as a sister💀
user8 Could be lying🤷
mickschumacher✔︎
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Liked by y/nklum and 538,924 others
mickschumacher Watched another amazing performance❤️ Had to leave early to prepare for a date though…
charlesleclerc Cool, wish I was that flexible😅
y/nklum Thanks💖
user1 Mick???? Soft launching???? Under a y/n post???? This makes no sense
user2 Wait is he referring to y/n or someone else wtf
user3 I thought y/n was dating Charles💀
user4 Bro everyone thought that
user3 Isn’t she though?
user4 Personally I think she is but idk
user5 Why is Mick soft launching at the same time as y/n😭
user6 Lmao he went to a friend’s performance and ditched it for a date💀
user7 rip y/n
user8 Charles is there for her though🥹❤️
y/nklum✔︎
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y/nklum Thank you to the random stranger who offered to take a picture of me and him together❤️
landonorris That random stranger was me🙄
y/nklum No, you were the third wheel
user1 Nah that definitely doesn’t look like Charles
user2 Nvm that ain’t Charles unless he dyed his hair💀
user3 isn’t that Mick😭
user4 It looks a lot like Mick. I think it is him…
user5 But didn’t Mick say that he left her performance to go on a date?
user4 No, he said he left early to go PREPARE for a date. It could’ve been a date with her.
user6 I love the subtle Lando slander for no reason😭🙏
user7 If Mick posts something like this, we’ll know what’s going on and who’s dating who💀
mickschumacher and y/nklum
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y/nvettel Spending our 6-month anniversary skiing ⛷️ Happy 6 months, Mickie❤️❤️❤️
mickschumacher Happy 6 months, Liebling, I love you❤️
y/nklum I love you more❤️
landonorris Should’ve invited me when I actually wanted to third wheel smh
y/nklum Go skiing with Carlos
charlesleclerc Finally I don’t have to keep quiet about it anymore
y/nklum You came close to revealing it one too many times
lewishamilton Enjoy your vacation guys, congrats🙌
user1 I KNEW IT. FROM THE FIRST SOFT LAUNCH POST I KNEW IT.
user2 Jeez okay we get it💀
user3 I really thought it was Charles lmao
user4 I always thought they looked good together🙏
user5 childhood friends and now dating? This is the sweetest🥹❤️
user6 I can’t wait for the wedding pics
user7 They better get married
user8 Lando in the comments again😭😭😭
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You thought back to when it all started, as you sat in the ski resort’s outdoor hot tub. It was just you and Mick in a hotel room, both hoping the other felt the same way.
You knew that your father would be proud. You’d fallen in love with a respectable man. A man that he got to meet and know before he passed. A man that you could call home because you could be in any hotel and still feel at home as long as you were with him. With Mick.
You also knew that if you ever were to have children, you and Mick would be sure to tell them all about their grandfathers. How one was a former world champion, and how the other was an unbeatable lawyer. They were both heroes. You’d convinced yourself. You could convince a couple of toddlers.
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𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...
𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!
𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
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©vettelsdarling
𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.
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givemea-dam-break · 1 year
Note
hello my love <3 can i request fluff with lockwood where y/n is sick and she also has injury on her hand (something like lucy's maybe?) and when lockwood wants to clean it she's not happyy about that 'cause she only wants to sleep and he's like "i'm your fully qualified doctor, remember? you have to listen to me, love", btw i absolutely adore your stories, keep writing cause you're amazingg, mwah <3
a/n: of course!!! domestic lockwood is the best in my humble opinion. and im so glad you like my stuff so much, love you my dear <3 also taking this as an opportunity to apologise for the terrible titles for most of my fics i spend ages thinking but can never think of something good lmao
warnings: minor injury detail gn reader
Perfect - Anthony Lockwood
The library is the warmest room in the house, and by far your favourite, so it's no surprise when Lockwood finds you there, curled up on your designated armchair close to dozing. He smiles at you as he steps in, carrying a tray of something or other that he places down on the little coffee table before sitting in his armchair.
There's something about him today that makes you want to laugh. Maybe it's the way he's been mothering you all day because you're ill. Maybe it's the lack of Anthony Lockwood professionalism he has today, what with his crinkled hoodie and pink fluffy socks - aren't those the ones George has been looking for? He's so unlike his usual self today, but also inadvertently just like himself. A walking anomaly.
"How are you feeling now?" he asks quietly, as if your ears may explode if he speaks too loud. "Any better?"
"No better than I did seven minutes ago," you say with a laugh. "Lockwood, you don't have to keep a constant eye on me. You've got things to do."
"One of which being to take care of you," he says. "Which reminds me, are you finally going to let me take a look at that cut on your arm? It needs cleaning."
"I trust you with my life, but I do not trust you with the first aid kit. You'll shove half a tube of Germaline on it. Besides, I want to go to sleep, and here is cosier than my room."
He gives you a look, but it's halfhearted. "You can sleep once I've cleaned it. I've brought you some of your favourite biscuits and a brew in return."
You lift your head from where it had laid on your arms. "Doesn't sound like a very fair trade for you."
"Ah, I'll cope."
"Well, it doesn't hurt anymore. I'm sure it's healed amazingly and then I'll be back to my wonderful self in no time."
"I'm not leaving until I've at least taken a look at it. Then after that, you can have your tea and go to sleep." His grin is dazzling then. It's the kind he always uses when he's trying to get his way. "I'm your fully qualified doctor, remember? You've got to listen to me."
If you could be bothered, you could push for him to leave you in peace, but your head feels like it's full of water and you want to go to sleep. So, begrudgingly, you shift so that your arm hangs over the armrest of your chair.
The gentleness of Lockwood's hands as he takes your arm and slowly, carefully peels off the plaster you haphazardly placed on shocks you. His fingers are soft, holding your arm as if it's a delicate thing that could break at any moment.
He takes a minute to just look at the gash on your forearm. It's no longer than your index finger, cutting diagonally across halfway up, and it's still oozing some blood. The plaster is covered in it, and he deftly throws it into the bin before taking his little first aid kit from the tray he brought in. Its original purpose was for you to use it on him whenever he got banged up on cases, which was more often than not, but there's something strangely special about him using it on you now. It makes you feel a little giddy.
"You got this from a glass door, right?"
You're acutely aware of his touch as he shifts his grip so as to clean the cut. "Yeah. George knocked me into it by accident. I'm surprised this is all I got out of it."
His reply comes in the form of a quiet hum. As he cautiously cleans the wound, you watch as his brows furrow a little with concentration, creasing a little line between them, and his top lip twitches a little bit. A little quirk, you've noticed, when he's particularly invested in something. Usually, it's the latest gossip rag, in which he always loses sight of the real world, but now it's you. A small flutter arises in your chest.
He wipes over a small part of the gash, and you suck in a sharp breath. The sound makes him falter, the wipe hovering an inch above your skin as he looks up at you.
For a moment, then, you forget about the pain. Through his thick lashes, his eyes are brimmed with worry and apologies, but after insistence that you're fine, he continues to clean the fresh blood away.
"Let me put the cream on the plaster," you murmur. "You'll put way too much on."
He smiles. "Who's the qualified doctor here?"
"In all honesty, Skull is probably better at this kind of thing than you are."
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."
"Do."
But, even still, he passes you the tube of Germaline and a long plaster. A moment later, you pass it back, and with delicate hands, he places it over the gash. It stings a little, and you hiss at the sudden cold, but the feelings are gone before the minute is even over.
"Perfect," he says with a soft, private smile. "All sorted."
His hand lingers, still holding your arm, and you suddenly feel more awake than ever. It's as if the tiredness has just melted away into the cushions of the armchair and down into the floor with only his touch, and you yearn for him to not let go. To stay exactly where he is.
And, as if having read your mind, he does.
If someone were to walk in, the scene would be strange. You, curled up in your seat with your arm hanging over the armrest, head resting on your own shoulder, and Lockwood, holding your arm as if it's some valuable thing, and simply looking at you with those expressive eyes of his.
"How do you feel?" he asks. His voice is a little breathy.
You're trying not to focus on the feeling of his fingers slipping down your arm until they almost - almost - slot in between yours. You shift slightly so that your head is in a position that isn't causing a crick in your neck, and it only grants a better view of him. His dark hair glowing bronze in the firelight, the ever so faint freckles on his nose, the dip in the left corner of his lip that insinuates another smile.
"A little better." The words almost catch in your throat when his fingers curl around yours just so. They don't hold yours, but they're so, so close. You can feel his pulse - or is that yours beating wildly out of control? "Do you have any paracetamol?"
He takes a second to realise what you've just said, and his hand leaves yours as he rakes about in the first aid kit for the painkillers. Out of pure mothering ability, he pops two out of the packet and hands them to you along with your mug of tea. Not the nicest thing to swallow them down with, but it'll do.
"You need to be more careful on cases," Lockwood says.
"Tell that to George. He's the one who bumped into me." Then, you shrug. "I suppose I shouldn't have gone when I've got the worst head cold I've had in yonks."
A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and you notice how he's looking down at your hand.
It's a bold move, completely unlike you, but you reach for his hand, looping your fingers through his. His hand is warm and, yes, that's definitely your erratic pulse.
It takes a lot to catch Lockwood off guard, but that does the trick. For a moment, it's like he can't decide whether or not to look at your linked hands or at you, and you laugh at the sight of it.
"This is wholly inappropriate," he jokes. "Doctors and patients shouldn't do anything remotely like this."
You must be out of your mind entirely because you lean over and press a kiss to his knuckles. "What about that?"
The expression on his face reminds you of when the TV signal has gotten busted, and the four-person-army of Lockwood and Co, plus a glowing and crude Skull, are sitting around it angrily waiting for it to stop buffering. When the picture freezes, glitches a little bit, and buffers for even longer. You can almost see the buttons and wires in his mind, struggling to compute what you just did.
That's not to say you aren't the complete same. Truthfully, you shocked yourself with the kiss, and you sit here now, staring at the spot where your lips touched his skin.
You're ill, you remind yourself. Maybe he'll pass it off as delusion.
"Would you mind if I weren't your doctor for a little?"
Frowning a little, confused, you say, "No...?"
You've never seen a person move as fast as Lockwood does then. Before you know it, he's leaning over your entwined hands and his lips are brushing yours so softly, giving you room to move if it's something you don't want. But you do. You want it more than anything.
Everything seems to melt away at the moment you press your lips firmly onto his. The library, the fireplace filled with dancing orange flames, your horrible cold, the sting of anti-septic cream on your fresh cut. You're aware only of his lips on yours, his fingers twisted in yours, the warmth of his hand. Every nerve in your body feels as though it's about to combust. Your heart is practically beating through your chest. God, your hands are awfully sweaty.
Only a moment later, he pulls away, but his face stays so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your cheek.
You want to say something romantic, maybe something smart or snarky like you usually would, but all you can think of is, "You're going to get a cold now."
"It's just as well we have Skull, then, huh?" His laugh is soft and airy, and you could catch it between your lips if you so wished. "I'm sure I'll be fine."
His gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, and you're positive that if he weren't holding your hand right now, you'd implode in a burst of sparks and fireworks.
"Well, if you're so sure -"
Knowing where the sentence is going, he presses his lips to yours once more, and it's perfect.
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wildpeachfarm · 2 months
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I feel like as a fandom we don't talk about snf enough. Like ppl always talk about how pretty George is and they're right but he's also like insanely smart?? like he's the only member of the dteam with a degree(not that that's necessarily indictive of anything but u get my point) and it's in fucking computer science??? he's also insanely well spoken when he needs to be . I also appreciate how timely he is when faced with serious accusations (the gituation but also the racism accusations from I think last yr) and they're really well written. he's also has proven himself to be incredibly empathetic and caring. Listening to him talk about reaching out to technodad after that stream because he's the one who's opinion really mattered to him had me just ☹️☹️☹️.
And sapnap!!! I love sapnap sm. he's so fucking funny it's insane. and he's so so so very loyal. Dream has said before that Sapnap is a ride or die type friend and it shows. he loves his friends so much. Like him hearing that George was depressed and lonely and IMMEDIATELY renewing his passport and going to see him??? I also feel like we just don't appreciate his beauty enough. Like he's insanely attractive and I refuse to be told differently. He is just so lovely and sweet and funny and just skdktk
And when they're together?? They're so funny that they've literally almost made me piss my pants. The two of them love each other sm even if it is different than the way they both love dream. imo them making a conscious effort to change the way they treat each other and their friendship as a whole proves that more than anything.
The dteam as a whole love each other so much its honestly disgusting and it's probably really parasocial but it bothers me sm when ppl try to say otherwise. Especially when it comes to George. Like saying otherwise about Dream or sapnap is gen fucking stupid. (Dream has literally gone on and on about how much he loved them both and said that they're a package deal. And sapnap has repeatedly refered to them as his brothers) but ppl love to say George doesn't love them because he doesn't say it publicly. But like??? He literally moved continents to be with them??? He put his whole life on pause and uprooted himself because he wanted to live with them that fucking badly. Personally I wouldn't do that for anyone I didn't at least care very deeply for. And dream made it a point to bring up George's soft and loving and serious side when everyone else was just talking about him being funny and goofy. Also the Dteam is just so Boy™. idek how to explain it. they're all goofy and love dick jokes and ur mom jokes but are also so loving and well spoken and sweet.
sorry for the parasocial rant I'm just feeling very loving and mushy and I love them sm. ima channel this into the fic
-baby fever anon
YES MORE LOVEPOSTING ABOUT SAPNAP AND GEORGE!!!
They are both so special and dear and I love george's brain and I love sapnaps loyalty and aaa 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
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