#before their lost brothers wiggle their way back into the plots

[britneyshakespeare]

until google docs gave me a squiggly blue underline suggestion, i never in my life had considered how 'regnant' rhymes with 'pregnant'

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

Love, Eternal // [Part IV]

Pairing | Phantom x Sister!Reader

Word count | 1.3k

⚠️ Warnings | Reader uses she/her pronouns, (y/n) is used once. There is a ritual scene. TW for murder ghouls, blood, injuries, assault, violence, and death.

Plot Summary: Today was Phantom's summoning day, a special occasion akin to a birthday. Eager to surprise him with a homemade cake, you realize you're missing ingredients and head into town. On the way back, you encounter trouble with some members of the Catholic church that changes the course of your life in the Ministry - and with Phantom - forever.

A/N: I TOLD YOU IT HAS A HAPPY ENDING! This is the last part! Thank you so much for reading this far, I hope it was an enjoyable read. Much love 🖤 xo Emery

[Prev]

Phantom returned a short while later, Swiss and Dew silently trailing him. The poor ghoul was absolutely overcome with grief. Once he found you in the driveway, he could immediately smell the putrid odour of the men who did this to you, their scents still fresh on your beaten body.

When he left the Ministry he had no thoughts but revenge. It was easy for him to pick up on their scent once he was outside, his abilities and senses heightened in his manic state. 

Swiss and Dew knew better than to interrupt a ghoul on a warpath, so they kept their distance, allowing Phantom to do what needed to be done. Sometimes his packmates had wondered how he ever survived in the pit, his trademark traits of being approachable and kind didn’t fly down there.

However, as his fangs elongated and his claws unglamoured, Phantom was quickly proving to all that he was a ghoul from hell after all; mindlessly pulling the first unfortunate soul apart with ease, Swiss and Dew watched proudly as the young ghoul forced the vile human to choke on his internal organs.

Phantom had begun his hunt.

Walking slowly back to the Abbey, Phantom began to come back to earth. His mind was riddled with thoughts of what he could have done differently; maybe he shouldn’t have skipped so many lessons with Aether to spend time with you, maybe he should’ve asked Omega more questions about what his Quintessence could do before he was sent away.

Lost in his thoughts, he began to weep. The thought of losing you and ultimately failing his older brothers, the thought of realizing you were his mate and never getting the chance to tell you. It was almost too much for Phantom to endure.

The blood smearing across his face as he wiped away his tears only made him cry harder. He was covered in as much blood as you were, the only difference being none of it was his. What’s done was done. He was a murderer now. No better than the vermin he just effortlessly dispatched. Phantom knew they would get a special greeting in hell, and that fact brought him a fleeting sense of relief.

He needed to see you one last time. He made his way back up to the main ritual room where he knew Copia would still be with you, but he never could’ve imagined what would be waiting for him once he got there. Rain and Mountain were already inside, the arrangements long forgotten. Dew and Swiss made their appearances known as they stepped behind the young ghoul who had been stopped in the doorway.

“I need to see her, Papa. Please. Just once.”

Copia silently signalled Dew and Swiss closer. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Excuse me?” The fury in Phantom’s eyes quickly returned.

Copia knew better than to get in the way of an angry ghoul, learning his lesson as a child growing up with Alpha, but he stood fast. “Phantom, there’s something you need to know–“

However, the young Quint was hearing none of it as he pushed past Copia and wiggled out of his brothers' grasp.

What he found as he entered further into the room was exactly what he expected: you. What he didn’t expect to see was you… alive? This must have been a dream. He shut his blood stained eyes once, and then twice. You were right in front of him, now sitting between Rain and Mountain in the same place he watched you die - where he felt you die.

What he felt now was something familiar, yet completely new.

Rain had already washed the blood off your face and found you one of the ghoulette’s spare outfits while Mountain had tied up your hair in a ghoulish fashion. Phantom’s brain couldn't compute what he was seeing as he moved cautiously toward where you sat on the ground, still too weak to stand.

Your skin had turned to a violet grey, similar to Phantom’s. Your nails had grown into beautiful claws, and fangs extended where your canines used to be. Your hair turned to a dark blue that almost matched Rain’s, with lighter patches of skin decorating your hairline and cheeks like scales. Phantom noticed your ears were sharp and pointed like Dew's, with the skin at the tip a dark red.

Phantom fell to his knees in front of you, speechless and in awe.

“How–” 

It was like he was looking at an angel gifted from hell. You were one of them now. His beautiful ghuleh, with pieces of all the brothers who helped save you.

When you looked up at Phantom from your place between the two ghouls (who were now your brothers too), Phantom couldn’t contain his tears any longer. Though these were not the tears of sadness and grief from before, these were tears of bewilderment and relief. He didn’t notice at first, but you had the same lighter patch over your eye as he did. Your left eye was a gorgeous shade of ice blue, contrasting the darker grey of the other one. It reminded him of Papa.

“Phantom?”

You were taken aback slightly at the sight of the friendliest ghoul you knew, kneeling in front of you covered in blood from head to toe. He chuckled slightly at the lisp you had when you called his name, not used to your fangs yet. You had extra long ones too, thanks to Swiss. If he was in any other situation, Phantom would've found it incredibly hot.

“If I had known, I would’ve washed up.” He said, looking down at his bloodied attire. His brothers moved aside so Phantom could wrap you in a hug that he never wanted to leave, eager to have your new scent permanently etched onto his soul. “I’m here. I’m never leaving you again.”

The two of you sat like that for a while, your newly heightened senses almost becoming overwhelmed with 5 ghouls and Copia all in the same room. However, if you focused on Phantom, everything felt calm and quiet. You felt safe, wondering if this is how he felt every time he was with you.

You didn’t really know what happened. One minute you were struggling to breathe outside after getting ambushed, the next you had died. Rain and Mountain gave you the Coles notes version of what happened when you awoke. None of which you remembered. You don’t remember much of your time in the pit either. There were ghouls everywhere and it was warm, but not unbearable like you had come to fear it would be. There was one thing you did remember from your time down below though…

“Hey,” you said, as you pushed Phantom off you to look him in the eye. Normally that would’ve been impossible, but you’d worry about that weirdness later. “The devil says Happy Birthday.”

Phantom smiles wider than you have ever seen and places his forehead on yours before desperately, but lovingly, crashing his lips on yours.

“Let’s see Jesus do THAT.” Dew blurts out, completely ruining the tender moment, but not a soul in this room could care as everyone lets out a laugh.

“My dear ghuleh,” Copia says softly, approaching as Phantom helps you to your feet. “You don’t have to choose right now, but in light of your new situation, if there is perhaps a new name you feel is better suited? I can make arrangements on your behalf.”

“Eris.” You spoke as you leaned into Phantom’s touch. “Like the goddess of chaos, cause that’s exactly how this all feels.”

Copia smiled warmly, “Then welcome back to the Ministry, Eris.”

Standing behind you, Phantom cradled you protectively in his arms, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “It’s perfect.”

Copia and your new family left you to get reacquainted. You returned the affection as you twisted to hug your lover once again, relishing in the sweetest scent you had ever experienced as you began to involuntarily rub your cheek over his chest. You were starting to realize what the ghouls meant about the scent thing, Phantom’s was intoxicating and you never wanted to leave. It was like he was made just for you.

“So… I guess no cake then, huh?” Phantom snickers as he leaves soft kisses behind your ear before continuing down your neck.

You quickly pulled away from his embrace. “That was supposed to be a surprise!”

His hands interlocked and rested along the base of your spine. His amused gaze lovingly met the look of disappointment on your face before you let out a frustrated ‘ugh!’ and headbutted his chest.

“Ow!” He yelped. “Sweetheart you’ve got horns now, and apparently Dew gave you some flippin’ pointy ones too.”

“Oops.”

You looked up at Phantom sympathetically, your tail suddenly making an appearance and wrapping around his leg.

“You got my tail though,” he winked.

“My darling ghoul, you have all of me. My heart, my life, and my love, eternally.”

[Prev]

[deviousdevilx]

Like I understand why they made Terry and Kreese the ~same age~ in the Karate Kid/CK universe BUT like man, it would have been more toxic and tragic if Terry was like Kreese' FIRST student, like he comes back from Vietnam, spent time in Korea, learning martial arts and karate, comes back in like 1975, opens his first dojo, and in comes this scrawny 15 year old kid who may have a rich daddy, but the man is awful, and so this tall skinny kid immediately latches on to Kreese as a substitute father figure/older brother figure, and IDOLIZES Kreese. That kid being a young Terry Silver. (making him like 25/26 in KK3)

He becomes Kreese's top champion within a couple of years, and after Terry turns 18, decides he wants to invest in Cobra Kai, wants to support Kreese's dream of expanding his dojo, and they begin that until Terry's shitty estranged father dies, like in 1982/83, a couple years before KK1, so Terry decides to take on the business and supporting Cobra Kai, but more and more is pulled away into the business, leaving Kreese essentially alone to run Cobra Kai which is fine.

Also after Terry becomes an adult, he wants to be Kreese's equal, his business partner, co-sensei, and Kreese kinda strings him along knowing how to play to Terry's insecurities always just on the verge of giving him what he wants, but then aways pulls rank/seniority on Terry which causes some strife and forces some distance between the pair. This is why Terry isn't aware of the troubles (or knows but is hurt and kinda enjoys the fact Kreese finally LOST) Kreese has after KK1 BUT when Kreese shows up in KK3, he is still so excited and happy to see his mentor/friend/bro(more so happy to see Kreese come to HIM for help) and is willing to do whatever for Kreese (once again falling into the trap of wanting to gain Kreese's respect and affection, and Kreese knowing that and using it against Terry)

After KK3, Kreese pushes Terry away again, even going so far as calling Terry an unlovable loser, Terry feels betrayed and used, and they split. Queue to S4 of CK, and Kreese comes back, weaponizing Terry's former idolization of him to lure Terry back, oh and of course Daniel LaRusso as bait because maybe KK3 Terry isn't a full cartoon villain and we see him genuinely bond with Daniel (more scenes of them together) but he is so loyal to Kreese, and wants Kreese' admiration and love he goes along with Kreese's plot (and is still responsible for tormenting Daniel no excusing Terry's behavior) but just adds more depth to his feelings for Daniel which is why in CK he DOES genuinely apologize to Daniel and is hurt when it is rejected.

Having become way better at manipulation, Terry decides to remind Daniel of the fun they had (trying to seduce Daniel heehhehe), and wiggle his way back into Daniels' psyche more so than before. He also plays into what he knows Kreese thinks of him, playing his former role of obedient loyal student all while plotting Kreese's downfall for all the shit he put Terry through, all while hoping to have Daniel at his side where he rightfully belongs as his partner in his Cobra Kai empire!

[zmediaoutlet]

happy wincest wednesday!! thoughts on the amnesia trope?

happy wincest wednesday :)

I got excited enough about amnesia that, like an idiot, I tried to use the native tumblr search for something, and so obviously nothing remotely to do with amnesia came up and so we're left with:

Love the amnesia trope! I mean -- in theory, lol. Every trope can be good if it's written well and absolute trash if it's written in a trash way. Some tropes have more wiggle room than others, though, and amnesia in particular has a wiiiiide range from 'can be AWESOME' to 'ugh, god. why.' Admittedly, a lot of depictions of amnesia fall closer to the trash-why end, haha (then again, pretty much everything falls closer to the trash-why end, so no need to single it out too hard on that), in particular because of the way it tends to be used for silly melodrama and soaps. But you know what, spn's pretty much a melodrama and I think at this point if you can't accept that you've got a lot more work to do than just getting through a silly amnesia fic, so -- hell yeah, melodramatic tropes in melodramatic fic for our melodramatic canon, let's gooooo --

With that said.

I really really really VASTLY prefer single-amnesia to double-amnesia. Double-amnesia has the fun dramatic irony going on where the reader knows what's up and, oh ho, won't it be So Fun when they realize what they have done! And like, fine. It can be. But I'm immensely more interested in the single-amnesia variety, where Character A is cored out or wiped blank or made into some new entitity -- like a Regarding Dean situation where the memories are gone and just the personality remains -- or jamais vu, true newborn with only nature and no nurture -- or like I have written... twice or three times, lol, when some specific but very key information is lost -- and then Character B has to deal with the beloved shell left behind. Whether it's from the amnesiac's POV or from the carer's, you're left with this intensely fraught interpersonal situation where one person doesn't know what's wrong, or at least to what extent something's wrong, and the other person's caught in this maelstrom of alarm/worry/but also, maybe, a strange and cautious and terrible relief. Because -- wouldn't it be better, if they didn't remember trauma x or y? Wouldn't they be safer? This tends to go toward first time, which layers on an extra layer of guilt for the carer, but (being me) I actually prefer it as established relationship where the carer's not sure if it's morally right to make that reconnection -- because, after all, it was the person who was that they loved, and the person who's here now... are they the same?

Amnesia fic sits in this wonderful moral grey area, sharing a place with e.g. gender or body swap, de-aging, alternate universe selves, etc, and the grey area is embodied in a single question: what's owed to the person who's no longer here? Swiftly followed by a darker question: what's owed to the person standing in front of you, not sure why you want that other version back so badly? This was essentially the soulless!Sam plot -- he's right here and Dean wants to murder him to get back some soppy sweet version who might as well be dead. In a fic like 'What Remains,' which deservedly is one of the top recs for the trope, Sam's left with this so-much-happier Dean who, sure, was lost, but has a decent life, and is it even remotely okay for Sam to shove him back into memories of hell and pain just so that, when he smiles at Sam in the morning, it's the smile Sam actually remembers?

The only interesting lesson of Lebanon is, of course, that yes: whether it's right or not, they want their brother back -- not a facsimile or a happy shell or anything else. No matter how much it hurts, either coming or going. And we all knew that was true before Lebanon but I didn't mind it being underlined, and in every (good) amnesia fic I look forward to it being underlined again: there is no Sam or Dean Winchester that counts, except for the one that grew up entwined with his brother. Accept no substitutes. :)

[monstrousvoice]

The Bishop’s Different Talents - HCs

Shamura is able to write, draw, and play instruments. They're more inclined towards string instruments, and they can't for the life of them figure out how to write their own music. They normally draw and write in their free time as well! They've made a couple educational books about the flora and fauna in the different realms with incredibly accurate sketches. 

They never really got into the habit of writing fictional stuff however. The few times they've tried, they would end up with pages of facts about the world the characters lived in, but no actual plot or character interaction. Very much someone to go to for world building ideas.

Heket can draw, but not as well as Shamura. It's better than stick figures and she's proud of that, at least. Mostly she enjoys cooking and singing. In a Follower AU, she takes over the kitchen when Lamb isn't there, and even helps them cook when they are home. It's a good way for the two of them to let go of the past and start bonding.

She sings a lot during the day when she has her voice, either pre-canon or in a Follower AU. Cleaning, cooking, simply taking a relaxing walk…she tends to start humming to herself without even realizing it. Like Shamura, she can't write music, but if the melody is there she's somehow able to come up with lyrics. Only if the melody is already there, otherwise she feels lost without the beat.

Kallamar is the one Shamura and Heket go to for song writing. He plays multiple instruments of different types and is able to come up with melodies that are almost hypnotic. Heket adds the lyrics and the two of them tend to duet together while Shamura plays their own instruments with them.

Maybe it's not considered a skill by some, but he's incredibly good at decorating. You give him a theme and he's able to take colors and furniture that give you exactly what you want, but somehow better. In a Follower AU he tends to boss Lamb around when it comes to decorations, insisting that they're messing up the Feng Shui of the room and to just let him handle it.

Leshy is inclined towards dancing and gardening. Even without his god powers he's always had a way with plants and enjoys taking care of them. Even in a Follower AU this is true, it's like the plants prefer him? You can use the same exact techniques as him to grow crops, and still his will somehow be bigger and taste better.

He's very inclined to movement, and dancing is one of the easiest ways to help get that itch out of his body. If he overhears Heket humming, he will drop whatever he's doing to go dance by her. Every time. Its a habit that started when he was still a small wyrm god, tiny baby Leshy wiggling over towards his big sister to wiggle to the sound of her voice. It used to make Heket cry and whimper about how much she “wuvs him!”. It still makes her smile to see him wiggle at her voice.

Narinder is very charming and has a way with words, and that transfers over to paper as well. Unlike Shamura, he is good at fictional stories, and enjoys making short stories for the children in his and Lamb's cult to listen to and read. He's also very good a poetry, able to string flowery words together to make a beautiful mental image.

Just like his sister and brother, he can also sing. But you'll never know it. His voice is a wonderful baritone that compliments his sibling's voices, but he's too self conscious to ever join them. The only one who does hear his singing voice is Lamb, in quiet moments together when they are snuggled up. If Lamb wants to hear his voice, they have to initiate. Staring with soft humming before moving on to words, at which point he'll scoff but start singing back.

[lokiskitten]

Loki Laufeyson | wrong room

Loki Laufeyson x fem!reader

plot : after landing on Midgard, you, Thor and Loki are forced to book rooms at the closest hotel in order to spend the night. However, you accidentally end up joining a room which isn’t yours and gain someone else’s bed.

warnings : mention of drinking, basic smut and unprotected sex.

In order to go after and find Odin, the three of you had been forced to travel to earth and lead unsuccessful investigations. Having to listen to Thor and Loki argue every ten minutes had easily gotten under your skin and irritated your nerves, which led you to beg the two of them to find a place to stay for the night. All you could think about was to find a bed in order to spend a good night of rest, and that no matter if you had to sleep onto a foreign planet. Besides, Thor and Loki’s presence managed to reassure your anxiety and fears.

And this is how the three of you ended up in a nearby hotel, the cheapest you managed to find as you wished to get over the payment step as soon as you could. Loki was getting frustrated, visibly annoyed to be forced through such a humiliating thing that was having to sleep somewhere else than in his personal silk sheets. On another hand, Thor seemed to enjoy this adventurous trip, which was far from being any surprising. You’ve know him since forever, and you knew that traveling to new places was something he liked to do- especially when it came to mixing up with “friendly” misgardians.

“Thank you.” Thor’s deep voice spoke as he took ahold of the three separated keys, Loki fainting a sarcastic smile as the three of you now turned around in order to reach the elevator. “This is ridiculous. Why can’t we just go back to Asgard? It isn’t too late.” The black haired man affirmed whilst taking decisive steps. “Because a little someone lost our own father and I refuse to go back to Asgard before I know that he is safe. Now that we left, I refuse to come back home empty handed and disappoint our people.” Thor responded. You decided to stay out of this little family argument as you believed that it was none of your business in the first place, even though the two men had insisted for you to accompany them.

Loki chuckled darkly, as if he took his brother’s many blames as compliments. The demigod shook his head as the three of you stepped inside of the elevator, Thor’s fingertip pressing against the proper button which caused the doors to close. “I did not loose him.” Loki defended his acts, earning an unamused groan from his older brother. You smirked as your head tilted towards the floor. Once the doors of the elevator finally opened again, you were all able to walk out and make your way down the corridor in order to reach the rooms.

Though, being in desperate need of a distraction and some alone time away from the two arguing brothers, you suddenly stopped in your track. “I think I’m going to make a stop at the bar. I won’t be long.” You affirmed awkwardly, earning a simple nod from the blonde god which allowed you to turn back around and disappear from their sight within a short minute. Thor didn’t worry about your safety, being aware that you were fully able to defend yourself with the help of all of the amazing skills you had developed through your many asgardian educations.

[ ... ]

About two hours later, you found yourself stumbling through the empty corridor which was meant to lead you to your room. However, the beverage which flowed through your veins caused your brain to behave slightly dizzy. Your eyesight was blurry, yet a couple of blinks were enough to make it all clear again but only for a few seconds. Upon arriving in front of the bedroom door you expected to be yours, your hand took ahold of the handle which you twisted before pushing open the door and creating an opening for you to walk in.

There was no form of light but the one which came from outside of the building- yet which remained muffled by the half transparent closed curtains. The entire room was plunged into darkness, and you therefore weren’t able to distinguish Loki’s sleeping silhouette underneath the bedsheets. The first thing you felt like doing was to remove your clothes from your body, the alcohol in your organism causing you to sweat in an uncomfortable manner. Besides, you weren’t used to the fabric of those misgardian shirts and jeans- which only led you to want to remove them even more.

Throwing your shirt towards the bed, the piece of clothing landed onto Loki’s face which immediately caused him to frown out of confusion. He reacted slowly, hand reaching up for his head from underneath the bedsheets before he dragged the shirt off his face. Meanwhile you continued to undress, taking off every single piece of clothing which once hid your body as Loki attempted to sit up straighter in order to speak up about the situation. Unfortunately, his parting lips were forced to go silent as your panties landed against his face, his eyelids shutting close out of pure instinct.

A tired sigh escaped his lips as he dragged your underwear off his tired features. Though his now fully awake eyes admired your body, his head tilting as he started to wonder when you would finally notice his presence. Meanwhile, you were finally able to slip underneath the covers as a gentle hum escaped your lips. The sensation of the covers over your silhouette and the mattress underneath your body felt absolutely orgasmic; your tired brain looking forward for a good night of rest.

However, the unexpected sensation of someone else’s warmth against your arm caused your eyebrows to frown out of confusion. Looking up from the pillow as your eyelids moved open, a yelp escaped your lips as your orbs landed onto the sight of Loki mischievously grinning at you. Nearly falling off the bed, you managed to catch the bedsheets right in time whilst your other arm reached out for the bedside lamp. You turned on the light, distressed eyes scanning Loki’s now chuckling features.

“What are you doing in my room?!” You asked him in a defensive manner, using the bedsheets in order to hide your naked body. The demigod frowned. “This is my room.” He responded on an offended tone, the two of you entering a processus of pure confusion regarding this satiric situation. Your eyes diverted towards the corner of the room, spotting his infamous black suit which rested onto a chair and which was previously worn by the demigod himself. Awkwardly, you began to realize that the god of mischief might have been right : this was indeed his room which you had mistaken for yours.

“Oh..” you spoke, admitting that you were in the wrong which caused a smile to appear on Loki’s face. The presence of light in the room now allowed you to notice that he was naked himself, a blush spreading over your face which the black haired man didn’t fail to notice. You were suddenly pulled out of your daydream by the loud sound of someone banging against the nearby wall, Thor’s deep voice soon echoing through the thick material of the building. “Hey! Cut it off.” He ordered, seemingly not appreciating to be awoken at night by the two accomplices.

Loki simply rolled his eyes, remaining unbothered face to his brother’s futile threats. Instead, his mind decided to focus onto something way more interesting which was the opportunity of engaging something lustful with you. Biting down onto his bottom lip, he watched as you dragged the sheets a little further up onto your naked chest. To be frankly honest, your fake modesty only enhanced his secretive desires. “Oh come on.” He purred seductively, hand slowly moving up to yours before he started to lower the covers in order to expose your upper body to his sight.

Even if he had the worst reputation, you tended to trust Loki with your life as you’ve known him since forever. Therefore, you accepted to lower the sheets and expose your bare chest to him. His blue eyes watched with admiration, his fingers cautiously dipping into your soft mound and causing the squishy flesh to wiggle. Your breath itched due to this unexpected physical contact, yet you managed to appreciate every single second of it.

Being aware that he had your consent, Loki then wrapped his strong arms around you naked body and forcefully pulled your silhouette close to his- your respective legs interlocking as your own arms wrapped around his muscular back. You absolutely melted into this new source of warmth, appreciating how soothing his smooth skin felt against yours. You were now able to feel his hardening genitals brush against your entrance, tip colliding with your moist lips which instinctively parted for his hardness. Loki allowed a guttural groan to escape his lips, face tilted downwards towards yours as he observed the way your facial features grimaced out of pleasure.

Your forehead was soon to rest against the crook of his warm neck, his hips grinding against yours in order to engage intercourse in the smoothest way possible. His lips started to spray kisses against your neck, causing your genitals to throb out of envy as the two of you tried your best to remain as silent as possible even tho the natural lust which filled your respective organisms held you back from being completely discreet. Your knee now moved up to his hip, allowing your core to spread open for Loki to receive easier access to your entrance.

“Allow me, if you please, to take possession of your body.” He begged, large hands roaming your back in a loving manner. You shivered as you understood his request, body turning around so that your bum was now facing his crotch. Lifting your left knee to your chest, Loki’s hands took ahold of your hips as his member aligned with your drippy entrance. You moaned silently, bum lifting against his pelvis in an attempt to sit down onto his cock on your own. Thankfully, the demigod took the initiative to push things himself by sliding his hardness inside of your throbbing cunt.

Feeling his bare member penetrate you easily led you to moan, legs spreading in the air as your knees moved up to your chest. Loki began to move his hips back and forth, veins appearing onto his neck as he focused on properly moving in and out of you. This position required a lot of efforts from your partner, yet it felt absolutely nice to you- his tip brushing against every single one of your sensitive spots. Loki’s abdomen remained contracted, winces and hisses escaping his lips as his veiny hands remained locked against your hips.

“Ah- fuck..” you whimpered sensitively, eyelids shutting close due to the undeniable amount of pleasure which filled your body the more your sexual partner thrusted in and out of your tight and clenching hole. Those unwilling mannerisms caused Loki’s shaft to twitch, his tip repetitively hitting your cervix as warm precum dripped from his sensitive urethra- mixing up with your own natural lubricants. The man’s lips collided with your neck, biting and kissing your skin with the help of all the lust which lurked within his body.

Your hand moved back to grip onto his neck, cheek rubbing against Loki’s as his eyebrows raised in that one infamous way of his. Soft pants now exited his parted lips, thrusts getting sloppier as your friend now began to have a hard time keeping up the pace. The kisses he offered your skin weren’t so lustful anymore, but mainly filled of all the love he was never able to properly offer to anyone before. This boy lacked physical and mental attention, which you hadn’t failed to notice through the many years spent in his mischievous company.

And finally, his hips locked against yours as his balls twitched, shaft throbbing as warm and sticky cum was expelled from his urethra. Moaning sensitively, you accompanied his musical rythme by allowing your own whimpers to exit your lips. His hands moved away from your hips, strong arms now wrapping around your waist to make sure you wouldn’t unexpectedly decide to break the physical contact- something that absolutely never crossed your mind. In fact, all you could think about was how nice this moment felt. So why would you ever decide to put it to an end?

Unfortunately, every nice things had an end, the intercourses ending when Loki pulled out of your cunt and allowed his cum to drip out of your entrance. Falling onto his back, he panted tiredly whilst your own self laid down onto your back, hand reaching down for his and allowing your digits to interlock with his larger ones. Sensing this new physical contact, his head turned towards yours, sad eyes staring into your soul. For a moment, he was able to feel your pain as you felt his.

I hope you enjoyed. Don’t hesitate to leave a request! ❤️ have a good evening/day my loves. Requested tag : @delightfulheartdream

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

A Taste of Heaven Part 6

Series Masterlist

Part 5

Contains: Fluff, smut (oral sex F receiving, hand job) the plot thickening.

2,243 Words

Comment if you want to be tagged. However, the issues with my tag lists persists, the most reliable way to get updates is to follow #a taste of heaven sorry for the inconvenience.

After years of study and effort, you finally secure your dream job, as one of the head curators at the best museum in New York. After inheriting a huge brownstone you're looking for a roommate when your best friend Ubbe comes up with a suggestion, his younger brother Hvitserk. Better yet, you're a food historian and he's a three Michelin star chef.

There was something warm and fluffy against your face when you woke up, "hello kitty."

Meeeew

"Hvitserk, we need to feed them again." He chuckled and you looked over, the other kitten was fast asleep on his chest, "I can't get up, I'm a cat bed right now." You picked up Lady Soot and put her next to her brother, "now you're a cat bed for two cats."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." You shook your head with a laugh, "I mean it's not but when they're fully grown, you might not be able to breathe." Another chuckle, "well, we've all got to die someday."

"I'll get their bottles, cats know if someones a push over Vitty, you're going to be their servent for the rest of their fluffy lives." He lifted Sir Dusty to his nose, "you smell like cotton candy."

Mew

You returned with the warmed bottles and handed him one, "hand me one please." Hvitserk handed you Dusty, "hello my sweet boy, are you ready for breakfast."

Mew

"Oh, ok." You let the kitten suckle while his little ears wiggled and his tiny feet made biscuits on Hvitserk's chest, "you do make a good cat bed." You leaned over and kissed him, "the best. They let you back inside your department today, don't they?" You nodded, "yeah, the techs are done, I'll take the kitties in with me." Hivtserk made a funny face.

"What?" He pressed a quick placating kiss to your cheek, "Ubbe wanted to bond, he offered to do it today." You shook your head, "they're our cats, we should be the ones to look after them."

He kissed you again, "please, he really wants kitty cuddles." You threw your hands up in the air, "fine, but don't blame me when he starts asking us to have human children."

You could still smell the smoke when you walked inside, "hey Mary." She gave you a sad smile, "hey y/n. Bob's not doing so good." You nodded, "I know, they think he has nerve damage, he won't be able to work here if he doesn't get range of motion back in his fingers."

You shrugged, "the Lothbroks got him the best burn specialist in the country, it's a wait and see situation. Come on, we have to start cataloguing the damage."

You were only an hour in and there were millions of dollars lost, each broken piece had to be photographed and compared to the original photos and descriptions.

"We're going to be here forever." Carl huffed, "you think I'm happy about this? I had another month of leave before this shit started and now I'm back in it." You gave him a sympathetic shrug, "sorry, man. I'll approve you for the rest of it when we're done here." He huffed, "yeah, in twenty years."

Ubbe called you at lunchtime, "how are my children?" He chuckled, "great, they are very snuggly. Lady Soot is quite brave, she keeps trying to eat my fingers."

You laughed, "yeah, her brother's a bit of a fraidy cat." He cleared his throat, "how's it going there?" You took a deep breath, "slow but it's going, the cops will be here later today to collect the files, it looks like they're ready to make arrests but I heard that the radio host is going to pay their legal costs."

He grunted, "fucking pig, why can't they arrest him?" He heard you sigh, "he didn't tell them to do it, they can't prove much if the words didn't come out of his mouth. If someone flips and says that he did, then they can take him in."

You could hear the kittens crying in the background, "it sounds like they want more cuddles." He gigged, "yeah, I'll bring them by in the afternoon, love you y/n."

"Love you too Ubbe."

****

"Is that the last of it from this exhibit?" Carl was standing there holding the clipboard like he was going to span it in half, "yep, onto the next." By the time you were ready to go home, you and the other staff had gone through a third of the items, "I just gave the cops the files, they're filing more charges tomorrow."

"That won't matter, the guy responsible won't be held accountable." You shrugged, "a day at a time I guess."

***

Hvitserk was waiting for you when you got home, "I thought you were doing nights for the next week?" He shook his head, " there was a huge recall on a whole bunch of vegetables we got at the market, half the upper-end restaurants are giving people ecoli."

"When do you go back?" He sipped his coffee, pouring up a cup, "two days, it looks like it was intentional, the cops who came to talk to us seems to think it's sabotage from another farm."

"Shit. Look on the bright side, you didn't make anyone sick." He smiled and pulled you into his arms, kissing you softly, "I'll put dinner on, you go have a shower and relax."

You looked at him funny, "I'm starting to think you don't like my cooking." He shook his head, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "I've been at home most of the day and look like you're about to drop. You're my girlfriend, let me look after you."

You kissed him, your hands holding his face, as the kiss deepened, Hvitserk pulled back and smiled, "hold that thought, Ubbe will be here soon with the kittens and I don't want to be interrupted."

Sure enough, when you were in the shower, Ubbe showed up with the cats in tow. "I'm going to get some of my own when I'm done with this project, can I have them through the day tomorrow too?" Hvitserk smiled, "y/n can't say no to you, plus she's been working so hard she won't have to time to feed them."

You came down at the tail end of the conversation, "yes Ubbe you can have them tomorrow." He smiled like a schoolboy, "I love you so much." He kissed their little face before handing them off to you, "good bye sweet kitties, I'll be seeing you really soon."

Hvitserk pulled you into his arms as Ubbe left, "Come on, I'll pour you a glass of something and get you dinner."

Dinner was nice but simple, not only did he make dessert but he cleaned up too, "now you're making me feel bad, I've left all the work to you." He smiled and shook his head, "nonsense, you deserve it with all the hard work you've been doing."

You kissed him softly, his nose bumping yours. He kissed along your face towards your ear, "you know how you can thank me for all my hard work tonight?" You brought your hand to his face, "how?"

You felt him smile against your skin, "let me go down on you for as long as I want?" You were taken aback, "are you serious? That's how you want me to thank you?" He pulled back, his face becoming slightly firm, "yes, we've been over this, I really enjoy it."

You smiled, "ok, I'd like that."

Hvitserk was in the bedroom twenty minutes later, he had a gentle smile on his face and his eyes were hooded. He climbed into bed, resting some of his weight on his elbows while hovering over you.

"If at any time you want me to stop or change what I'm doing, let me know right away, ok?" You nodded, "I will, I promise." He rested more of himself on top of you, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss built slowly, his hands moving unhurriedly to pull off your shirt. You helped him take it off, laying back as you watched his eyes grow wide, "you have really nice tits." You giggled, and he bent his head to lick a nipple while a hand came up to kneed your other breast.

You brought one of your hands up to run your fingers over his scalp, and Hvitserk groaned around you. He moved down your body, stopping to suck your skin in different spots, he took in the different gasps, moving if he didn't think you liked it enough.

When he got to the elastic of your panties, he looked up at you and you lifted your hips, Hvitserk pulling them down. "You good?" You nodded, "yes, you can keep going." He smiled and went back to kissing you, when he reached your mound, his lips softened.

His hands came up to lift your legs off the bed and onto his shoulders, one hand stroking your thigh affectionately while the other spread you open for his tongue. He started with kitten licks like he was trying to get a rise out of you.

"Hvitserk, don't tease." He laughed, "hey, I'm not teasing, I'm savouring." You tapped his head with your knee, "I'm not a fine….." Your quip was cut off by a gasp as he sealed his lips around your clit.

It descended from there, Hvitserk listening and feeling carefully for each twitch and gasp. He never went fast or hard enough for you to reach the edge, it seemed he wanted you to beg. He was groaning too, devouring you like a starving man.

"Hvitserk, please." You felt him chuckle on your skin, his thumb coming to run you as he lifted his head, "your wish is my command." As his lips returned to work, one then two on his long fingers slid inside you, bending to press your G-spot.

"Can you press softer please, it's a bit much." He did so before the words were fully out of your mouth and he lifted his head again, "thank you for telling me, I think you deserve a reward for that." He dropped his head again, this time he had a clear goal in mind.

Your hands pulled his hair tighter and Hvitserk only moaned, "oh my god." You arched off the bed and his forearm came to push your hips down, his display of raw strength only helping to heighten the pleasure.

He didn't stop as you came down, intent on bringing you over the edge again and again. By the time he was done, you were pushing him away with quickly weakening arms.

"You did so good for me." You look down to see the bulge in his grey sweats, "what about you?" He looked you over, "I'd rather you wide awake for that, I can see your eyes closing." You went to protest but he cut you off, "compromise? I'll hold your hand and show you what I like, no pressure." You nodded, "I'd like that."

He pushed his pants off and laid down on his side next to you, grabbing your hand in his and wrapping it over his hard cock. He watched as he moved your hand up and down the shaft. "Just like that, you're doing so well." He lasted longer than you thought, whether it was from ego or something else, you didn't care.

Groaning your name, he came over your hand and kissed you softly, "I'll clean us up, you lay there and relax." He got up and was back soon after with a warm cloth, "how are you feeling." Your smile made his heart swell, "great, I could sleep for a year but I feel great."

He laughed and tucked you in, "go ahead, I'll be right behind you." He waited until he could click his fingers right by your ear without rousing you to get up and call his brothers.

"When are you going in?" There was a strange sound over the line before Ubbe replied, "in ten, his body guards just left for the night, we're waiting for Ivar to get into the alarm system."

"Call me when it's done."

*****

You awoke to pounding on your front door. You and Hvitserk got up, blearily eyed and confused, "it's Carl." You opened the door in nothing but an old ratty shirt and a pair of underpants, "what do you want at this hour?" It was just past six in the morning.

He shoved a newspaper in front of your face, "I couldn't sleep and went for a walk, I caught the paper guy just as he was putting them out."

The headline was in bold, the photo the radio presenter in cuffs.

"Right-wing shock jock admits to funding attack on historic New York museum."

You looked over at Hvitserk who didn't seem surprised, "look who grew a spine. This is good right?" You nodded, "it's great, we can take him whole fortune now, he might even go to prison."

Carl didn't stay, heading to the bar to get a drink after you gave him the day off. "Shit Vitty, I can't believe this has happened. I wonder what made him talk." He shrugged "no idea love, I'll make you breakfast, I'm sure everyone wants you in the office so you can celebrate."

While you were getting dressed, he called his brothers again, "what's next?" Ivar's answer was to the point, "we make sure the people who did the burning do the right thing and admit the truth. We all know this won't hold up at trial, the only way to bring these assholes to justice is if they have no other options. At least they'll still be alive after their stint inside, if they don't plead, not so much."

Part 7

Thoughts?

[spideymarvelws]

can you do some technoblade x teen platonic reader headcanons about techno sorta being the reader’s mentor and being one of the only people on the smp who could actually defeat technoblade in a sword fight?

behold... another main character

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To Your Taglist

Warnings : Violence, Death, Some cursing

Word Count : 4.0k

The Blade and The Survivor (1/?)

Technoblade x GN!Platonic!Teen!Reader

You’ve only ever heard the story’s of the famous blood god growing up

Your brother was the first to introduce you to the legend, the legend of a man who never died

Who’s fought battles that no person could ever dream of and walked out victorious every time

The well known anarchist who’s taken down government after government

You were hooked from the very beginning and after every tail he would tell, you would beg your brother to teach you how to fight like him

While your brother wasn’t the best, he knew his way around basic weapons from your grandfather and agreed 

He would bring you out to a nearby plains biome anytime you were free and teach you all he knew

And while it wasn't much, you were grateful for every piece of information and put your all into everything he taught you

He even reenacting some fights from the stories to make it interesting for you

You would always play along, acting as the infamous blade and running around with your brother

Sometimes you would shout “blood for the blood god” while killing cows or chickens

But you refused to kill pigs.

In fact you got a pet one and named it Bladey

For your birthday your brother got you a saddle and you made a carrot on a stick using the crops he stole from the farm so you could ride it across the village

He also gifted you a wooden sword and axe while he wielded stone

for safety of course, he wasn't about to give a child stone tools

Along with a shield that had the banner of your village

But out of every weapon, you were the best with a bow

You had a natural talent for it, every arrow you ever shot always hit its target

Your brother would always ruffle your hair and compare your aim to that of the blade’s, making you beam even brighter

“Who knew we have an archer on our hands, the blade could never compare,”

But all of this was done in secret

The village you lived in was safe, small and homey

Everyone knew one another, so the possibly of someone committing crimes or turning against someone was unlikely

The villagers were peaceful with one another

And with the iron golems patrolling every corner 

you loved to give them poppies from your mother’s garden as a thank you

There was no need to learn to fight when you lived in a place that never needed it

The village ran on balance, equality amongst each person so that everyone could be amongst one another in peace

Plus, at the time you were the youngest in the village, considered a baby by everyone

And while you had the kindness and curiosity to match it, there was always something missing

Training was the only thing that fulfilled it

Your brother thought that your practises would disrupt that balance so he never told anyone about your activities

And that stayed true until your last night in the village 

You, your brother and bladey were making your way back to the village after a long day of training when you noticed thick, black smoke rising from where it stood

You both started walking carefully to the area, you walking behind your brother with the pig in your arms for comfort

In the distance, you noted the shadow of pillagers and iron ore scattered across the grounds

You went to scream as you got close and run to your house, but your brother slapped his hand over your mouth and pulled you with him behind a nearby tree

But one of the pillagers heard the noise of leaves rustling and began to approach the both of you.

Your brother was quick to take out his sword, pushing you behind him 

“Listen to me Y/n, I want you to run okay? Run and never stop until you know you’re safe okay?”

You shook your head, “What about you? What about our parents?”

He smiled sadly, shakily ruffling your hair, “I’ll be right behind you... Now go!”

The sound of swords clashing and the screams of your brother were the last things you heard  as you ran, tears falling from your face 

Bladey squealed in your arms, wiggling and turning to get out of them, sensing the danger but you kept your grip tight, following your brother’s orders and running as far as pos sible

Needless to say he didn’t follow, neither did the rest of the village that was left in ashes and ruins after the attack

You couldn't find the heart to turn back, to fight along side your brother

You fled like a coward. Guilt, pain and hatred riding on your back 

But you didn't give up hope, plotting revenge against the mobs who destroyed your home

Who killed your family

You walked for days, stopping at villages, trading with them and improving your supplies

And getting a lot of carrots

Your wooden swords turned into iron, along with the rest of your tools

Your leather helmet turned into a full set of iron armor 

But you kept your old shield, repairing it every time it lost durability

You even crafted a crossbow that you learned was the main weapon pillagers used

You dreamed of pointing it at there neck, watching the sharp arrowhead puncture their skin and bleed out on the floor

You tended to sleep through the day and fight threw the night, taking out your anger on the mobs that spawned around the wood houses you made to keep yourself warm and isolated

Times when you weren't fighting and training, you spent in the library of any village you found, learning about anything you could

It was there you learnt about the rare ore diamonds, hidden deep in caves 

You also learned about enchantments, that made your armor and weapons even stronger

Soon enough you were geared up with full diamond armor and a set of diamond tools 

But it was never enough, you always needed more 

So you went to nether after repairing a ruined portal you came across

And began exploring

Gathered potions

All the materials you could find

Along with netherite

And fighting every mob you happened to pass by except piglins

For such a young age, you were stacked, maxed out to the point of boredom that you couldn't go further

Even Bladey had his own turtle shell, adjusted slightly to fit his head and allow him sight

You often wondered if this was what it was like to feel like technoblade

And throughout your journeys, you kept the stories your brother told you by heart, learning as much as you could about The Blade

You followed in his footsteps, using his successes as even more motivation to continue on your quest

And ready to finally get your revenge

It was easy to take down the pillage post, taking the banner and making your own shield that you kept as a trophy in your inventory as a reminder of what you lost

But it wasn’t enough, the loss of your family laid heavy and your heart

So you started protecting the villages you visited in exchange for lower prices in trades

You believed that was your purpose now, you had nothing else to do but fight for the people who couldn't fight for themselves

You wanted to help in ways that you couldn't all those years ago

You would wear a black cloak over your armor, the hood covering your head and a mask concealing your face

You couldn't imagine wearing a skull mask, even if it was for the aesthetic

You looked like death itself

Death with a cute pig side kick

Soon enough, word got around of a teenage warrior roaming the lands labelled ‘The Survivor’, catching the attention of Wilbur and Tommy who had just been exiled from L’manburg

“Why would we need them if we already have techno on our side?”

“Because we need all the allies we could get Tommy, plus we don’t want Shlatt to get to them first.”

You would be passing by Pogtopia on your horse with Bladey tucked into you lap sleeping, following a map to another village that needed help when a tall man stepped in front of your path, making you halt

“Why hello there, Survivor, care for a little chat?” he said ominously, leaning against your horse

You payed no mind to him, hitting his hand of your horse, rolling your eyes and moving around him

You’ve meet people like him on your travels before, people who only needed you for your skills and selfish reasons

At least, that how he came off and you didn’t care to stay and find out if your assumptions were true

“Hey, hey, hey, look, I’m sorry if I came off so forward but- I need your help,”

That made you stop.

“Need help with what exactly?”

He went on to explain his situation about a place called L’Manburg, an evil dictator named Jshlatt and his exile along with someone named TommyInnit

At first you said no.

You were only interest in keeping your own kind safe, protected people who needed it

And from the looks of it, it seemed that the two men put themselves in there position so they should be the one to take themselves out

That and you had more pressing matters to attend to than government

“What do you need? What would you want in return?” he started to beg, walking along side your horse as you started to ride away

“I already have all I need,” you croaked

“Well that seems boring. Don’t you want a bit of adventure in your life Survivor? A little bit of flavour to spice up it up? It must be so boring just fighting the same thing over and over again, why not work for a group? A collective?”

You grew tired of his voice, letting out a deep breath you began to consider his words

As much as you didn’t want to admit, he was right

You had been travelling around the lands, going insane, doing the same thing over and over

And while it helped people, it was growing tiring

Maybe one war wouldn’t be so bad, and perhaps you would learn some new stuff along the way

And the alliance with this so called L’manburg would be good for the long run

“If I agree... would you shut up?” you finally cut off his rambling and stopping your horse

He blinked in surprise, “Wow! If i had known talking would make you cave in, I would've brought up Tommy instead.”

You sighed, “I’ll help you okay? As long as I get free access to L’manburg afterwards along with all the supplies i need,”

“Done, done and done.”

The first day wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be

Wilbur was actually pretty chill, letting you make a new home out of the ravine they stayed in

Niki was also really kind, bringing sweet treats from Manburg every time she visited

It was nice to settle for a while, you couldn't remember the last time you slept under the same roof for more that a day

Your horse, Jewel along with Bladey seemed to settle well along with you

You also met Tubbo and Tommy, a lively duo that overwhelmed you at first but there energy was nice to see in such a grey environment

What you didn’t expect was to meet him

You would be mining a small space in the ravine for yourself and your pets when you heard a monotone voice sound from behind you

“Heh?! Who’s the kid?” 

You spun around, raising your sword to the intruder but froze when you noticed the familiar skull mask, along with pointy piglin ears hidden behind bright pink hair 

He didn’t seem fazed by your weapon, leaning against the stone door frame with his arms crossed

“You’re- you’re him.” you muttered in awe

Before he could respond, Wilbur popped out from behind him, “Oh, yeah. That’s Y/n, Y/n, Techno. Techno, Y/n,” he nudged his side, “They’ll be helping us take back L’manburg,”

Techno only nodded, “Nice.” he tilted his head, “Aren’t you that Survivor dude? That’s pretty pog.”

Cut to you standing frozen in place, jaw dropped to the floor, eyes wide in amazement

“You- you know who I am?” you squeaked, quickly sticking your sword in the ground and leaning against the handle, stumbling slightly

An attempt to seem cool in front of your idol

An attempt that didn't really work out

He let out a hum, “Heard the name from around yeah,” he pointed to your sword, “Might not want to stab your sword in stone, It’s not that affective.”

And with that he left

Leaving you in shock

If only your brother could see you now

After that interaction, you started to follow him around like a lost puppy, watching in awe at every little thing he did

You felt like a kid again, the warmth in your chest that you lost so long ago restored because the person who tied you and your brother together was here

Because you were training and fighting along side your childhood hero

He would act annoyed at first, always shrugging you off or moving to other rooms to avoid you

You were like a parasite 

He could never shake you off

He didn’t want to grow close to anyone, he was here to take down yet another corrupt government not to look after some orphan

That was Phil’s thing.

But after time he grew a liking to you, enjoying your presence while he was farming potatoes or visiting his cow farm

You acted different around him, the hard and emotionless exterior you showed to Tommy and Wilbur completely vanished and left an innocent, happy child

He always wondered why 

People never did that with him

He was a feared name across the lands of the smp, everyone usually kept there distance and became extremely cautious in his presence

But you didn’t seem to get scared, in fact, you were a talker, constantly asking question after question even if he gave no response

It was nice not to be alone after so long even though he would never admit it 

Even the voices started to take a liking to your bubbly and curious personality

Why is she asking the same question

Maybe you should answer her blood god

She seems nice

You really do take after your father

He saw a part of himself in you

Unlike Tommy and Wilbur, you weren’t fighting for government, you were fighting because you had nothing else to do

Because you were bored with your everyday life being, essentially, an assassin 

The thought always made him chuckle

He left like he could trust you over them because your weren't driven under a government

At least that’s what he told himself

He also wanted to see why they valued your alliance so much to give up half there riches to you from L’manburg

“Duel with me.” he said to you one day, out of the blue as you both made your way across a plain biome looking to animals to kill for food

“Heh?” you said under your breath, clearing your throat while heat rose your your face at his suggestion and the noise of surprise that escaped your mouth

Techno couldn't deny that his heart warmed just a little at the small things you began to pick up from him

“Fight with me,” he drew out his sword, turning around and facing you with the weapon raised in the air, “I wanna see what you’re made of ‘Survivor’. So come on, lets fight,”

This was the first time techno actually talked to you directly, uttered words other that demands, silly excuses or grunts of acknowledgement

“I-” you let out a deep breath, shakily taking out your own sword, “Okay, okay,”

After establishing some rules, the duel began.

He let you take the first hit, barely dealing him damage but you got the second hit as well, knocking him down two hearts

He was quick to regain himself, taking three hearts with his sword and a free hit with his bow

That gave you the idea to take out your own, running a good distance away and getting three shots in

It was a close fight, you didn’t mind if you lost. Fighting Technoblade was already an honour as it was

Then you jumped of a piece of stone, landing a crit and watched his items fall to the floor

Technoblade was slain by Y/n 

You let out a short breath, eyes widening in shock that you had just won

You just killed Technoblade

“I was only going easy on you- I- What enchantment do you have on your sword? You have creative mode don’t you? Yeah, you have creative mode... there’s just no way-”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your laughs as the blood god ran over to pick up his items with a red face

“Hey! Hey don’t laugh! This isn’t a laughing matter!”

“It- it kind of is.” you said shyly, putting away your sword and eating some steak to regain the health you lost, “If it makes you feel better, I had one heart...”

“oNe hEaRt! She had one heart chat! What is this-”

His words had you rolling on the floor, wiping your eyes of the tears falling from your at how hard you were laughing

“What- What do I have to do for you to keep this between us-” he whispered after you calmed, looking around the the space, making sure it was just you and him

You shrugged, “Nothing really- I- uh, i didn’t mean to kill you... I’m sorry-”

Sorry? Who the fuck says sorry for killing someone

Who says sorry for killing him?

If anything you should be gloating, getting a billbourd and displaying the chat message for everyone to see

He’s never been gladder that nobody else was connected to the chat at the time

“I was going easy on you.”

“I- sure, sure okay...” you thought about it for a second, “If so... then why don’t you teach me the things you didn’t try? Like techniques and stuff...”

He froze at your suggestion, “You want- you want to learn from me?”

“Yeah!” you beamed, “You were... a big inspiration for me growing up and, I would love to learn from the source and not just through tails and stories.”

He thought about it for a bit, usually he would rely on his voices but they were all just insulting him

He didn’t see the harm in it, out of all the children on the SMP, he tolerated you the most

That and you had potential, it was rare to find someone with such skills and who acted humble with them

He sighed, patting the top of your head with a huff, “Sure... Sure why not.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah sure, I mean what’s the harm in it right?” he ruffled your hair

The action made your eyebrows rise and when you looked back up at the piglin hybrid, all you saw was the smile of your brother looking down at you

“Hey, everything alright?” he questioned, noticing your sudden glossy eyes

You quickly rubbed them with your knuckles, “Yeah, yeah I- I just forgot something at Pogtopia,” you said, backing away with an embarrassed smile, “I’ll meet you back there,”

“Sure, sure... I’ll just continue hunting,”

As you ran away he let out a deep breath, taking out swords and looking down at it with a scoff

“Chat... we never speak of this... again.”

After that, the both of you were inseparable 

Going on adventures with each other, looting and exploring together

Where ever he went, you followed in his footsteps as he taught you about whatever he could

He even took you to his secret base and allowed you to help him in gathering supplies to help the fight

“What’s with the pig by the way?”

“It’s my emotional support pig.”

“And his name is bladey?”

“...”

“It’s a short for bladder...now what were you saying about poisoned arrows?”

And while you appreciated the action, your favourite times where the calm ones

When he would take you up to a hight tower or hill so the both of your could relax, maybe eat some mushroom stew as he told you stories of his own adventures 

You opened up to him as well, telling him about your family and your village, how you were travelling around with so sense of direction

It was strange how easily he trusted you, maybe it was because you had similar experiences as him

You understood him and he understood you

You also began to make good friends with the rest of Pogtopia along with everyone else who started to betray shlatt and join there side, becoming more open with the reassurance from Techno that they weren’t bad people

You fit in well, a lot more that he did

You had potential for a bloodless life, he saw that

He didn’t want you to make the same mistakes as him, he didn’t want you to live the same isolated life

And while you agreed with his thoughts on anarchy, he didn’t want to you to have any part in what he was doing.

So when L’Manburg was taken back and Tubbo was but in power, he felt a sense of dread opening his enderchest and taking out his six wither skulls

Don’t let the wither’s hurt them

You’re going to hurt them more that they are

You won’t be able to protect

Protect them at all costs

It wasn’t just the voices that felt the urge to keep you safe

Over the months he’s grown a liking to you, treating you like his own student and teaching you the things he wish he knew at your age

But he could also be the one to corrupt you.

And he didn’t have the heart to find out which way it would go

You caught sight of the skulls in his hands before he switched to his sword, a hard look on his face as everyone began fighting each other

“Techno?” you walked up to him, “Are you-”

“Yeah... yeah I am.” he puffed out his chest, pulling you the side, “Look, things are about to get messy and when they do I want you to run-”

You knew where this was going, flashbacks of your brother fighting one of the pillagers to save you as you ran away to safe yourself, sacrificing himself for you

“No.” you cut him off before he could continue.

While you knew Techno was going to come out of this alive, you had the power to help him now, to help everyone, you didn’t need to run anymore

You considered Techno family now, well the closest thing you had to it and you weren't about to loose that

Not again.

“I’m staying with you Tech,”

He shook his head, “If you do, L’manburg would never look at you the same, you’ll be an outcast once again-”

“Then do what you have to do, but I’m not running away. What happens here is because of everyone’s belief and I believe in safety and protection so that is what I’ll provide.” you took out your sword smirking, “Plus, we all know what happened last time when you tried to fight me,”

“I thought you promised to never speak of this again!”

“I’m sorry I had to-”

“Okay kid, okay...” he took a deep breath, “Just stay clear of dream and his crew... and the withers... Actually? here take some golden apples-”

“Just go be an anarchist Techno,” you pushed him forwards, rolling your eyes, “I’ll be fine.”

“Actually, take this God apple and a few more potions-”

“I already have some-”

“Well take more. And some extra armor... just in case-” he threw the items at you before running away and setting up the soul sand, not wanting anyone to catch on to what he was doing

And with one final look around following the conclusion of his speech, he placed the skulls, unleashing ultimate chaos on the land once called L’manburg

...

Sorry this took so long! I always get ahead of myself with requests and end up writing a lot more that planned but i hope you enjoyed! I was making this so long that I had to spit this into part two, maybe part three to cover the rest of the lore and to be able to develop more on their relationship besides backstory

That and i really want to write the execution scene but this was already 4k words... 

Feedback always appreciated🥰

[groovyzombiellama]

Fight

Title: Fight

Requested? Yes.

Plot: You are Liam’s girlfriend and Scott’s younger sister, and you get attacked when you’re home alone and you barely make it.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, rape, death (flatline, but revived), violence, home invasion, funerals (imagined in y/n’s mind)

Word count: 2581

—***—

Being Scott’s sister meant you always had a target on your back in some way, but in no worst case scenario did you think you would end up in the situation you’re in right now. Bruised, bloodied, feeling completely disgusting with yourself. And you kept blaming yourself for not fighting back harder and allowing him to do all of those things to you, even though you were overpowered and tied up, unable to fight back. Your mind began to wonder as you were progressively losing blood from your multiple stab wounds, if this was how you die. If this was the end of the road for you, and you would never get to experience anything ever again. That you would be forced to watch your family cry at your funeral, because you were too weak to fight back your attacker. It all started when you had decided on what movie to watch tonight, as you were home alone. Scott was over at Stiles’ house, the two of them had their own business you never really ventured into, not wanting to look like the annoying clingy sibling. If it was something you could help with, he would have surely told you. And your mom had a overnight shift at the hospital, so you were all alone, with no boundries on your schedule, since you wouldn’t see the rest of your family until tomorrow.

You had felt a bit weird throughtout the day, as if someone was watching you, and you even found it so unbearable that you pulled down the blinds on every window in the house, even in Scott’s and your mothers rooms. You felt really on edge, which was part of the reason why you were blaming yourself, since you thought you could have called Scott and maybe went over to Stiles’ house yourself, and maybe then you wouldn’t be in this situation. But you didn’t call Scott and instead tried to put the thought in the back of your mind, focusing on enjoying your evening, as you figured nothing could happen to you if your door is locked and your windows were shut with the blinds pulled down. But then again, the town you live in is full of supernatural creatures, one of them being your own brother, so you keep telling yourself that you should have known better. That you never should have ignored the weird feeling that persisted as you waited for your popcorn to be ready and even as you pressed play on the movie.

But as the movie started and you immersed yourself in watching it, you didn’t hear the lock on your backdoor getting picked, and the door opening, allowing your attacker to get in and sneak up on you. It wasn’t until you felt a blow to your head that sent you off your couch to the floor of your living room that you realised someone else was in your home. You didn’t even have time to check your head, as you quickly turned towards your attacker, scrambling to get on your feet and away from the large figure dressed in black who was rushing towards you. You wanted to just turn and run, the feeling of adrenaline would have helped you gain the speed that you need, but for some reason you were terrified of turning your back towards your attacker. The skin of your neck errupted in goosebumps as you felt the blood oozing down your neck from the wound on your head, and you knew that if you don’t make a run for it now, it might be too late to do anything if somehow this person ends up cornering you. So you took a chance as you had your back towards the back door, your dining room table separating you and your attacker, and you quickly turned and made a break for it.

You ran as far as your legs would carry you. The adrenaline numbing the pain of your head wound and giving you more stamina than you actually had, but you could hear the echo of feet running behind you and you quickly thought of running into the forest, where you had more of a chance of hiding than in the open. Still the person was hot on your trail, the leaves under your feet rustling, giving away both your location to your attacker and his location to you. You tried your best to lose him, taking multiple turns, having the advantage of knowing the wooded area close to your home better than the attacker. Or so you thought. After about half an hour of running, you suddenly couldn’t hear the rustle of your attacker running behind you, and so you took the chance to turn your head around and inspect the area behind you, which left you vulnerable to him appearing behind one fo the trees in front of you, having taken a shortcut, and it all ended with you crashing into him.

His strong hands grabbed your arms as you let out a surprised scream and tried your best to kick and punch the person who held onto you so violently that you felt as if his hands were burning into your skin. You tried your best to yell out for help, but the adrenaline was wearing off and you felt the full force of your tiredness from all the running and suddenly you didn’t have as much strenght to fight back against his hold, ending up tied and gagged on the ground, as the attacker had his way with you. All you could do was cry and hope you end up wiggling around enough to losen the cloth that was tied around your mouth to scream out to someone to help you, to save you from this disgusting person, who was taking away your innosence and your will to continue living. You even thought of giving up, letting him do what he wanted, and then just beg him to kill you. To just finish the job and end your misery. What was the point of him raping you and beating you, followed by him even stabbing you if his final end goal wasn’t for you to die.

His final action after raping you, beating you and stabbing you multiple times was to leave. To just leave you there, on the ground, tied up and half naked, to bleed out. He didn’t even have it in him to finish what he started, he wanted you to die slowly, and you couldn’t understand what you had done that would prompt someone to do this to you. You have always tried your best to be friends with everyone and you never had any ill intent towards anyone. Even if you had a guy confess to you and you didn’t feel the same, you would be nice to him, telling him he would find the right one for him, even if right now it doesn’t seem that way. You never had bad blood with anyone and even if this was motivated by something Scott did, you doubted he, or anyone of the pack, did something so severe that it would prompt this amount of violence on someone not involved in response.

You saw yourself in a coffin, your family members, your firends, and all of the people who knew you standing next to it, in tears, as you were being lowered to the ground. You saw your mother’s heartbroken figure, her eyes red and puffy from crying, clutching onto Scott’s arm, her legs unable to hold her up anymore, as she lost her baby girl. You saw Scott being the one to find you in the forest, dropping to his knees at the sight of his little sister dead and violated, covered in blood, her clothes torn. You saw your boyfriend Liam crying with his forehead rested against your tombstone, asking you why you let go, why you left him. And then you saw flashes of your life in rapid succession before your eyes, from the good to the bad, and all the people who make your life worth living, and that made you realise that you can’t give up. You can’t let this moment be your last. Somehow you managed to find enough strength to pull yourself towards the highway, leaving a trail of blood in your wake, and even though your vision was becoming blurry, you persisted.

The moment you passed out was when you were at the highway and you could slightly make out that a car had stopped near you and the faint sound of someone yelling out towards you and rushing to reach you. It ended up being Nolan Holloway and his father coming back from running some erands out of town. Nolad had a slight crush on you for a while now, but knowing you were in a relationship with Liam, he didn’t act on his feelings, only watched you from a far and protected you when needed. As he noticed your body next to the highway, he yelled at his dad to stop the car, his heart crashing into millions of pieces seeing you like that. They drove you to the hospital, Nolan using his jacket to cover you up as much as possible and tearing his shirt to press on your stab wounds. Melissa noticed the commotion in the hospital and recognised Nolan’s voice as the one yelling for help, but she had no idea what she was gonna see when she ran towards the sound of the commotion. She was a strong woman, but seeing her only daughter in that state crushed her, and she ended up passing out, a few nurses rushing to her aid, while other’s helped another doctor get you to an operating room, hoping to save your life.

You had lost so much blood that the doctors didn’t know if you’d make it, but that didn’t stop them from giving it their best to save your life. Scott, Stiles and Liam were quick to come to the hospital after Scott had called your phone to check up on you and you didn’t answer, after which he had called Melissa, having one of the nurses answer and tell him about the situation. He was on his way in a flash, informing Liam on his way there. All of them were out of thir mind with worry and their hearts felt like they were gonna beat out of their chest. Just as they stepped foot into the hospital main hall, Liam and Scott halted, frozen in place, as their hightened werewolf senses picked up on the sound of a flatline. Stiles was trying to rush them, doing his best to convince them that the flatline was probably not you, not being sure of his words himself, but it was. They could feel that it was, and that crushed them.

Melissa quickly embraced her son when she saw him, crying histerically, praying that you were gonna be okay. The flatline sound becoming clearer as they were closer to the operating room you were in confirmed Scott’s and Liam’s worst fears. They couldn’t lose you, not at any cost. They even thought about biting you, giving you a new chance hopefully as a werewolf, hearing the doctors scramble to bring you back from that annoying and deadly beeping sound that just wouldn’t stop. Suddenly, just as Liam was about to burst into the operating room to bite you, the beeping sound went from continuous to spaced out, meaning the doctors have managed to bring you back, and everyone let out a sigh of relief. Their worlds wouldn’t be the same without you and they knew that no matter what they were not gonna lose you, ever. Each person present in that waiting room was willing to give up their own life just so you could live. Melissa told Scott that it was Nolan who brought you in and through a bit of digging, with Nolan being their inside man (oh how greatful they were that he had a soft spot for you and would never consider hurting you, but instead would do his best to save you and find out who truly hurt you) they found out it was Tamora Monroe’s army member who did this to you.

Scott and Liam were already planning their revenge, but had to make sure you were gonna be okay. After hours of waiting, pacing back and forth, listening in on what the doctors were saying, and just silently praying, everyone jumped in surprise when one of the doctors came out of the operating room and walked towards them. Another sigh of relief washed over the group as they heard that even though it was difficult and you almost lost your battle with life, you were able to pull through, and after a long period of recovery, your were hopefully gonna be fine, as long as your condition doesn’t change during the next few days. After a few weeks of you not waking up, but being in a stable condition, here and there having low moments, where it looked like you were gonna go back to a flatline, you woke up, to see Liam sleeping sitting in a chair next to your bed, his head on the bed, his hand in yours. Scott and Stiles slept sitting up on the couch on the other side.

They visited you every single day, only skipping two when the pack planned their revenge plot and when it was executed. Feeling your hand squeeze his, Liam’s head shot up and he called out your name, met with your beautiful smile and your eyes he missed seeing so much. “I thought I was gonna lose you! Thank you for fighting baby, thank you!“ He said as he peppered kisses all over your face, careful not to hurt you, but extatic that you were recovering. All that commotion woke up your brother and his friend, and they shared Liam’s excitement, thankful to the skies above that they didn’t take you away from them too early. You were thankful for all of them, for caring about you enough to give you the drive to want to continue living, for yourself and for them. Nolan also came to visit and apologised to you, swearing he had nothing to do with it and that he would have stopped the person who attacked you in a heartbeat.

You were thankful to him that he helped you, and you knew he was not the one who attacked you, as the person was much larger than Nolan, even if you couldn’t see their face. He promised to protect you better from now on as did the pack. Liam never left your side, even when you told him and your brother to go home and rest, even when Scott agreed to take at least an hour of rest, knowing your mother was gonna keep an eye on you, Liam stayed, no matter how much you pleaded and it solidified the love you had for him and your belief that he was the one for you. The help of the people who cared about you was crucial during your recovery, and you have never felt more loved, despite it taking a long time for the memories of that horrible even to even begin to become less vivid in your every waking and sleeping moment. But you knew you had people who were gonna be there for you.

---***---

Hey Anon, I know it took me too long to write this and you maybe even won’t see it, but I hope you actually do and you like the fic. It was a pretty dark request and I don’t know if I made it as dark and as emotional as you maybe hoped, but I still hope you like it, let me know if you want me to change some things :)

I don’t even know if anyone ever got emotional reading my work, I’m not that good of a writer so I’m so so sorry for that :) <3

---***---

That’s all for tonight folks, see ya soon :D

[meenah-chan]

A Smear of Blood

A Mammon x F! MC fanfiction

Genre: Angst

1.38k words

Trigger Warning: Lots of blood, mention of death & violence. Read at your own discretion.

You two were just sleeping together in your room. It's the same old night. Yet for some reason, when he woke up that day, the one beside him is not you, but a smear of blood.

Everytime he wokes up he will usually see you still asleep in his arms. Or sometimes you staring at his sleeping face, which never fails to send his visage into flaring.

But that morning is different. The space beside him is empty.

He shouldn't be thinking of it as you may only be doing your business in the bathroom.

But no...

That morning is different. When he lifted the blanket covering him and the space beside him, an ample amount of blood, as large as his two stretched palms, spreads across the sheet.

His mind went blank for a second. He froze, sitting on his spot as if time went on a total halt. His own blood drains from his face. And in an instant, everything came back, rushing through his veins. Thousands of thoughts he never wished to have invaded his senses.

Did something happened last night? Did someone attacked her? Is it a grudge towards his human? No, there's no way that's possible. She's way too kind for anyone to held any ill intent towards herself. Is it because she is a rare, appetizing human? Or maybe the monster want to settle past misdeed he committed and chose to attack the most important person in his life?

No, he should have felt any danger if that's the case... Or... Could he?

Mammon is one of the strongest in the Devildom. He also have been alive for who knows how long. He barely experienced some lesser demons attack him in his sleep, much less in the House of Lamentation.

No. No one aimed for his head in his own abode. Entering the den of the most monstrous beasts in the Devildom is a suicide for any assassins to test their luck.

It doesn't make sense! It doesn't...

Yet... That blood... That metallic scent invading his sense smell right now... He'd be dumb if he could ever forget such scent. He knew it so well. Why does he knew it so well? Of course he...

The image of that day flashed through his mind and he never knew his heart would sink deeper than it already has. The image of her lifeless body in his arms, soaked with her own blood and bruises. Limp. Breathless. Cold. Too cold. With her lifelessly gentle eyes staring at his useless self, who couldn't do anything to protect her. It's too late. His tears and screams won't bring what she have lost.

His loss. He lost her once already and swears he'll protect her this time around. He'll protect her with his life. He'll... Protect her?

A lightning strucks his system as he force his stiff limbs to motion. He wants to scream but a lump in his throat blocks all the sound he want to gouge out.

He flails out of the bed. He reach for the knob only for it to move a few feet away from him and his hand.

When he raised his unfocused eyes to the person who opened the door, he gasps for air he didn't knew he's been holding.

"Ahh. You're... Awake." His human peeked inside the room for a second. "And you saw that..." She sighed.

But the demon stood there motionless. He scans her with his eyes for any visible wound and blood stains. Any trace of blood on her. Yet he saw nothing but her sweaty self gasping for air, holding what seems to be a comforter.

"...mon... Mammon? You don't look so good." A touch of her warm fingertips is enough to push his last button to tears, which he did. "M–Mammon?! W–Wha, H–Hey!" Tears streams down like falls on his cheeks to the back of her hands as she held his face.

"What... the hell..." They both melted to their knees as Mammon start sobbing. "Hey, Mammo—" her palms slid past his slippery wet cheeks as he pulls her to tight embrace.

"'Ya idiot... human... Ye're killin' me." He whimpered in a muffled voice, face buried on the crook of her neck.

His words snapped all the dots connected in her head of what is actually happening. It probably is because of that incident. The day she died... or atleast her other self. It was a sight, to see herself bathing in a pool of blood, as if it was a different person. It was a sight, really. But it was not the one that sparked her emotion. It was the demon that held her so tight as if she'll slipped away from his grasp. It was Mammon.

She couldn't really comprehend what happened when she was attacked by the youngest brother. She was stranggled, passed out and woke up under the staircase.

It never left a mark on her. She held no ill will towards him. But as the demon with the strongest bond with her, Mammon, was so devastated that time. He cling onto her. He wail with his futile pleads for her to hang on. To not die.

Seeing him like that made her regret the event she have no way of ever predicting. The event she have no control of.

The only thing she could do is to protect him from the ghost of the past. She have to give reassurance to the second oldest— her first demon.

So she hugged him back as firm as he did, caressing his hair lovingly. "There, there... I'm here. Everything's going to be alright."

He squeeze her tighter she could hardly breathe. But even if it's hard, she let him because right now, she could finally feel the grip her other self felt that time. She's be lying if she said she didn't felt a hint of jealousy oozing out within her that time. "Don't you dare leave me like that ever again."

"I won't. I'll be with you as long as it takes. This won't happen again."

She gave him featherlight kisses that soothes his pain. A gentle yet firm embrace to gave him assurance and warmth. And within a few moments, Mammon pulled himself back, his eyes and cheeks dusted with shades of red.

"But wait... Are you really not hurt or something?" The white-haired demon close his eyes as she wipes his tears with her thumb.

"You wanna check with your own eyes?" She smirks and wiggle her brows at him, earning a darker flush on his tan face.

"Then what the hell's with the sheet? That isn't your blood, right?" Now it's her turn to blush.

"Uh... Can we just forget that..." Azure orbs glare through her soul. "... or maybe not." She nervously laugh while evading the piercing looks towards her.

"Ugh... This is embarrassing. How should I put this..." She scratch her nape as she search for the right words. "Well, it is mine." Mammon's eyes widen and without hesitation, he lift her shirt and frantically check her torso.

"H–Hey! Sto– Wait! I'm not hurt! That time of the month just came a bit too early is all!" She hastily pulled the hem of her shirt off his grip and down.

"W–What time?" He stares at her, confusion and worry evident on his expression.

"I'm on my period, okay. I woke up with it staining the covers. I panicked and run out after changing to search for a replacement. And yeah, I was late." She pat the sheet on her side. "You saw it before I arrive." She look down to hide her flustered face.

"... Seriously..." Mammon's forehead drops to her shoulder.

After a few seconds, he cups her face and face her to him. "Why'd'ya have ta hide it? And from the Great Mammon? Really?"

"Well, it's embarrassing you know..." She pouts.

"Like hell it's embarrassing. It's normal. It's a part of being a woman. If somethin' like this happen, don't hesitate to ask for the Great Mammon's help... Well it's not like I'm worried or anything. I just wanna help ya. Ye're my human after all." He squishes her face as he grin from ear to ear tinted with pink.

"Yes, my tsundere demon." She also smiled like he did as she held the hands on her cheeks.

"Huh?! Who're ya callin–" he protested, only to be silenced with a peck on the tip of his nose.

"I love you, my Great Mammon."

I was too hyped yesterday I just finished 2 fanfics. That OM! anime announcement left me on edge.

And to anyone waiting for my series Quintessence, I'm on it hahaha 😅😂 I'm torn between two twist and still can't decide but I'll surely post it as soon as I finished it. Please bear with me for the last 2 chapters.

P. S. To anyone who watch BL Romance and haven't seen Given yet, I highly recommend it! A real tear-jerker with amazing plot and masterpiece songs 😭💖💖 I won't go with details but there's something really unique with it and you wont regret watching it sksksk 😚😚

Masterlist

[weasleyswizardpleases]

And the Living is Easy (Fred x reader)

Summary: You spend the first night of summer vacation getting into trouble with the Weasleys + Harry and Hermione. Fred x reader. Fluffy mischief mostly, but sex is discussed and implied. 

Warnings/Notes: Light sexual content but not all out smut, alcohol, heights, language. I wrote this to be a stand alone, but I enjoyed it so much that it might become part of a loose series of slice of life-y reader x twins fics set at the burrow over the summer! ps i did not edit this at all after writing it at 2am so. uh

Summer at the Weasley’s is my favorite time of year. After my mother passed, you were tossed around from boarding school to boarding school, relative to relative, never really having a say in where you went, or with whom. But ever since becoming fast friends with Fred and George while repairing brooms for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, you’ve pretty much been considered an honorary Weasley.

You stow your suitcases in the overhead and squeeze into a seat next to Fred and George. Across from you, Ron, Lee, and Harry are packed in. 

“Do you reckon you’ll ever make it out to the burrow, Lee?” asks George pointedly. 

“Yeah, you don’t know what you’re missing out on. Mrs. Weasley’s hotcakes are out of this world.” Harry says.

“And there’s loads of space to play quidditch.” you say.

“And loads of secret spots not even Mum knows about where we can basically do whatever we like.” adds Fred.

“You know my mum will hardly let me out of her sight for a day. Merlin’s sake, she’s practically ass to elbow on me all summer.” Lee says, faking a pout. “Quit ribbing at me, would you? Or I’ll spend the summer in my room coming up with derogatory names to call you on the Quidditch pitch.”

Murmurs of “Come on, we’re only joking.” and “Fine, fine.” fill the packed compartment. You lift your rat Pansy up to the window to show him the scenery.

“Bet you’ve never seen the fine English countryside like this, eh Pansy?” you baby-talk at him, scratching his little noggin.

“You know that thing is never gonna talk back at you, right Y/N?” says Fred, rolling his eyes. 

“You never know. Look what happened to Scabbers.” you say, wiggling you eyebrows. “This rat could also secretly be a creepy little pervert who watches me undress at night.”

“I suppose it isn’t unprecedented in the rat community,” agrees George. Ron scowls in disdain.

“That’s my pet we’re talking about!” he says, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

“Yeah, fine pet he was.” says Harry, grinning.

“I will say, Ron-” Fred begins, clearing his throat. “You’ll never find another like him.” He claps his little brother on the back and stands up, peering down the hallway. “Oi, it’s the trolley, look alive Georgie.” George rises and straightens his coat. The boys have been planning for ages to charm the trolley witch into selling their skiving snackboxes. They run off down the car towards her. You tuck Pansy back into his cage and watch the scenery go by yourself. Before you know it, you’re being shaken awake by Fred and George. 

“C’mon, Dad is waiting!” says George. 

“Got you some chocolate frogs, but that means you owe us one.” says Fred, shoving a wriggling paper bag into your hands. Delighted, you expertly open the bag, catch a frog, and slurp it up before it manages to escape. 

“Tank -ou” you mumble, your mouth still full. Lugging your trunks over to meet Mr. Weasley, you smile with excitement. Every summer with the Weasleys is a blast, but you know this one will start off with a bang because last week Fred absconded with a jug of top shelf mead from Filch’s office. You’d all agreed that you needed it more, since you want to have fun and have no money, while Filch obviously dislikes fun and ostensibly has some amount of money squirreled away from all his groundskeeping or lurking or whatever his job is. 

After greeting Molly, you and the twins bound up to their room- and, when you’re here, your room- pushing and shoving your way up the narrow stairwell. You toss your things down and throw yourself onto a bed, spreading your arms as if making a snow angel. 

“Oh, boys, it is good to be home!” you say, laughing. Fred and George always joke that their mother likes you, Harry, and Hermione better than any of her own actual children, and you love teasing them about it. 

“Speak for yourself, she’s already got that sending-us-to-de-gnome-the-

garden-while-hungover gleam in her eyes,” retorts George good-naturedly.

“And get your shoes off my bed! Mum will have all three of us beating out the rugs if she sees that.” says Fred. You close your eyes and pretend to be asleep, baiting the boys into attempting to push you off the bed. You wind up making such a ruckus roughhousing that Hermione comes in looking concerned, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You all three pause from your compromised position to look at her, you releasing a vise grip on Fred, George dropping your left leg, which he had been twisting violently.

“When did you get here?” you ask, running to hug her. 

“Just apparated over, my parents would never forgive me if I didn’t at least drop by for dinner before practically moving here for the summer!” she replies, turning to greet the twins. 

“Are you going to be participating in our little soiree tonight, ‘Mione?” asks George, raising an eyebrow. 

“What are you three planning?” she asks sternly, stifling an excited smile.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” you say. 

“But don’t wear white shoes.” warns Fred. Hermione gives you all a funny look before running off to finish her greetings. 

“Where are we going tonight, Freddie?” you ask, looking up at your tall friend. He gives you a cheeky glance.

“Oh, out by the bog. There’s a huge hill between there and the house, so we can make a fire and nobody will see.”

“And there’s a huge stand of trees and a pond between that spot and the neighbors’,” says George. 

“You two have got it all figured out. And you’ve got the firewhiskey! What a night, what a night it shall be.” you say, your voice singsonging as you dance exaggeratedly. 

“Too bad nobody invited any girls.” says Ron from the doorway. He’s been standing in the hallway looking in the mirror for some time now, fussing with his hair.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Ginny shouts from her open door down the hall.

“YOU don’t count!” Ron replies.

“We know you’ve got someone else in mind, little brother.” George says, flicking Ron in the ear. 

“It’s pretty obvious,” Fred agrees.

“You get all flustered when she corrects your grammar,” you say.

“And you let her braid your hair.” says Fred.

“And you-” begins George, but Ron interrupts, his face beet red.

“Shhhh! Buzz off you two, or I’ll start blabbing on about who you’re interested in as well.”

The twins exchange a somewhat threatened glance, but say nothing.

“That’s right, I’m not as dull as you lot like to think, thank you very much. I notice things. So let me alone or I’ll sing like a canary!” Ron finishes, turning back to the mirror for a final glance at his hair before trotting downstairs. 

“You two have crushes?” you demand, turning to stare down the twins. Fred shrugs with his usual attitude but you notice a light blush spreading across each of their cheeks. You swat him across the chest. “Why didn’t you tell me? Who is it? You motherfuckers.” You grab George by the collar. “George, tell me who it is! A crush, my god.” You throw your hands up in the air. They’re being super weird, so you decide to drop the subject. “When you snog every girl and half the boys in the school, between the two of you, you practically hold us all down to tell us the details but now you’ve got a crush and suddenly you’re like a couple of mimes.” You look each of them in the eyes, and both avoid your stare. “Fine! Don’t tell me.” You throw your hands up in mock anger and lead the charge downstairs to begin setting the table for dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~After dinner, you pass the evening playing cards and chatting until Mr. and Mrs. Weasley retire for the night. Then, you’re left with all your friends and Percy, who it has been agreed simply cannot know you’re sneaking out to drink in the woods, because he is a killjoy. Using a previously discussed maneuver, Hermione attempts to trick him into believing that she and Ginny are going to bed, hoping that he will get nervous about being bullied if left alone with you and the twins, and elect to follow them to bed soon after. However, Percy is in an unusually jovial mood, and so Ron and Harry are forced to retreat as well. As a last line of defense, you pretend to fall asleep on George’s shoulder, nuzzling into his sweater. When Percy gets up to go to the bathroom, you dash outside into the moonlit yard, covering your mouth so your giggles don’t give you away. You run to crouch behind the garden shed, doubled over with laughter. 

“I thought he would never stop yapping.”

“God, how are you two related to that bore?”

“We can’t help it.” Fred says, bending to gather rocks from the ground. 

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Watch!” he raises his hand to throw a pebble at Ginny’s window, but you grab his wrist.

“Have you lost the plot? Percy will hear! And probably your mum too, with your aim. I’ve got a better idea,” you say, peeking around the garden shed while gesturing for the boys to stay put. You pop out of the shed with a dusty, rickety broom. 

“Does this thing still work?” you ask.

“Well enough,” says Fred, getting a running start and jumping on the broom. Wobbling a bit, he sails up to Ginny’s window and confers with the girls, then moves on to Ron’s window, where he perches on the sill, one foot dangling out the window.

Beside you, you’re aware of George’s presence beside you in the cool, sticky night.

“Bloody brilliant,” he murmurs, elbowing you gently. “How’d you even know that thing was in there?”

“Lucky guess. I mean, with a family full of Quidditch players, there’s bound to be a broom lying about someplace.” 

Fred jumps down onto the broom and turns a few experimental loop de loops overhead before nearly falling and coming to a shaky landing near your feet. 

“That one belongs on the rubbish heap, honestly,” he says, laughing as he tosses the old thing aside.

“Oh, sure, blame it on the broom,” you tease.

He’s soon followed by Ginny and Hermione on Ginny’s broom. They glide down and come to a halt next to you, stepping down gracefully.

“How are Harry and Ron going to get out? They’d have to go right by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s room, unless Harry has his broom up there with him, but I think I saw it in the foyer.” says Hermione, looking at Fred worriedly.

“Well, err, I told them to climb down,” says Fred earnestly.

“What?!” says Hermione. “They’ll be loud as bison, besides probably breaking their necks.”

“It’s not my fault they’re too dumb to pass their apparation O.W.L.S! They’ll be fine.”

As he finishes his sentence, Ron’s window slides open and Harry’s head pops out. He lowers what appears to be a rope made of sheets and blankets tied together. Hermione’s brow furrows as she watches, helpless, while Ron artlessly slips one leg out the window, before even checking to see that the “rope” is nowhere near long enough to reach the ground. Ginny giggles, biting her lip when she sees Hermione’s distress.

“Do something!” Hermione hisses, nudging her. Ginny groans and soars over to boost Ron onto the back of her broom, going back to do the same for Harry.

“Shite! The firewhiskey,” you whisper, smacking your forehead. Everyone lets out a collective groan, but before you can send someone back up to hunt down the alcohol, Ginny opens her backpack, revealing the gleaming jug. Everyone cheers, but then quickly realizes that loudly cheering may have blown your cover. Fred and George scurry off into the brush and you all follow them down a lightly trod path through the countryside, eventually reaching the open bank of a large, murky pond. This is a spot you’ve never been to before, probably because it’s a fair stretch away from the house, and apparently from any civilization at all. 

Hermione quickly conjures a large fire, creating a pocket of warmth in the chilly night air. You lean against a large rock and shiver when the cool stone brushes the back of your neck. Ginny pulls out the firewhiskey and hands it to Fred, who pops the cork, shouting with glee before knocking back a sip and passing it to George, who passes it to you. The familiar sickly sweet liquid burns your throat and warms your stomach, and you feel your (already barely existent) inhibitions begin melting away.

Before long, Ron suggests that you all play a game, and you run through your options: truth or dare, spin the bottle, a wizarding game you’ve never heard of, and hide and go seek. Hermione refutes hide and go seek on the basis of safety, and Fred refutes spin the bottle on the basis of the fact that four out of six of you are siblings. Not everyone brought their wands, so you can’t play the magic game, and you’re left with truth or dare as the apparent winner, which you were rooting for anyway, because you want to see what you can get the twins to do. It almost makes you wish Percy was here so you could put him in a compromising position, but knowing him, he’d find a way to make walking on hot coals boring. 

“I’ll start, I’ll start!” you volunteer, looking around the circle. “My first victim will beeeee…” you look at Hermione, who cringes nervously, then spin around to point at Harry. “Harry Potter. What will it be, Mr. Potter, truth or dare?” you ask.

Harry shrugs. “Hmm.. I’ll do.. Dare, why not?” he replies. 

“Alright Harry, I dare you tooooo.... Oh, easy. I dare you to smack Ron every time he says something you think is stupid tonight. And be honest, or we’ll smack you,” you say. The twins nod in agreement. 

“That’s not fair! That’s barely a real dare!” protests Ron. You raise an eyebrow at Harry, who turns and gives his friend a good wallop. 

“Alright Harry, your turn.” 

You play for nearly an hour, all the while passing the bottle lazily between you, until everyone’s good and tipsy on the strong liquor. Several good dares are exchanged: Fred is dared to give you a lap dance, which he does with gusto and an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. You dare Ginny to race you across the pond and back, and you both strip down to your skivvies and plunge into the chilly water. Ginny wins, of course, but you just wanted an excuse for a swim. Fred lends you his cloak, patting it onto your shoulders to dry them before you pull your pants back on. George dares Ron to walk back to the house and get food, which he reluctantly agrees to after everyone bullies him into it. By the time he gets back with a basket of pastries and jam, you’ve transitioned to mainly truths, because the well of dares has run dry. 

When it’s Hermione’s turn to ask Fred, she blushingly asks if he’s lost his virginity. 

“What, do you all think I’ve snogged every girl we know without scaring? Have a little faith, please.”

“Clever, but that’s not an answer!” slurs Hermione, pointing at him and grinning. “Have you actually had sex before, or do you just talk a big game?” 

“Well, have you?” you ask, laughing as he tries to bluster out an answer.

“”Course I have. Ask anybody. Everybody must think George and I are the male sluts of the century, the way you people talk.” 

“Still not an answer!” you say, looking at him mischievously. 

“How’s this for an answer, then?” he retorts, pulling you to his waist and kissing you on the lips melodramatically, throwing you up against the rock, practically fucking but for the clothes. What’s probably thirty seconds of kissing at most feels like an hour. Everyone goes “Oooooh!” and when he finally lets you go you’re flabbergasted, but you recover your senses.

“Point taken, then. Alright Freddie, your turn,” you say, straightening your clothes and trying not to look like you enjoyed that. 

“I dare Hermione to let us play hide and seek, for fuck’s sake,” he says, lazily.

“Ugh! I might be drunk but I’m not letting anyone stumble around alone in the pitch black plastered out of your mind. Ask me a real question!” 

“What if we weren’t alone?” Harry asks, looking around. “I mean, we could go in pairs or little groups. Like team hide and seek, basically.”

“I call Fred and George!” you cry, throwing your arms around their sweaty necks. 

“Fine, but please be careful. And everyone should be on a team with at least one person with a wand,” says Hermione, who teams up with Ron. That leaves Harry and Ginny on the last team.

George produces his wand and casts an illumination spell.

“Not it!” You shout, immediately echoed by Ginny. 

“Alright, we’ll count to 50” says Hermione, but Harry and George protest until they finally agree to 3 minutes.

Fred tears off into the woods and you and George follow, bushes thwacking you in the face, vines snagging at your ankles. You break through the brush into a field, panting, and stop for a break. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, looking around. “And where are we?” 

“No idea!” Fred says gleefully. 

“What about over there?” George nods towards a patch of grass and trees down in a glenn. You lope down hill through high grass and crash to a halt in the stand of trees, crouching low. Fred huddles next to you and George clambers clumsily into one of the trees, flattening himself into one of its crooks.

You can feel your stomach churning after your run, but you manage to successfully push down the acrid taste rising in your throat. Above you, you hear George belch, and just manage to slip out of the way as he spits a pitiful glob of vomit to the ground.

“Oi, we’re down here, you lout,” hisses Fred, ducking.

“Look at the state of you,” you drawl, bumping into Fred as you readjust around George’s vomit. He groans from his spot up in the tree and lies back down sleepily. To your surprise, you feel the urge to pull Fred closer rather than pushing him away. The earthy smell of the forest floor calms your stomach, and you find your mind wandering to his lips, his hands on your waist and neck. Buzzing with drunken impulsivity, you wrap your arms around his slender waist and pull him to sit beside you. He looks surprised, but readily slouches against the tree trunk next to you. You can feel his chest rising and falling with each breath. The air is still and cool in that settled way characteristic of the night.

Overhead, you think you can hear George beginning to snore. 

“Freddie-” you begin, but before you can say a word, his lips are on yours, his hands tangled in your hair. You push him down and roll over so that you’re straddling him, gripping his jaw in one hand as you kiss him, hard, then gently. His lips are softer and more relaxed than they were when he kissed you earlier, and his body less certain. There’s no false bravado in him now, and you bite his lip gently, your tongues barely batting together. You reach down to unzip his pants but he pulls back.

“Y/N- I- Look, I may have lied earlier,” he says, his face flush with desire and embarrassment. You look at him quizzically, your drunken mind not connecting all the dots. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I haven’t… done this before. I’ve only ever kissed. Although I’ve done quite a lot of that.” he says quietly. You blink.

“Oh. Oh! You total freak. Why go to all that trouble to convince everyone you have?”

“Have you considered that maybe I just wanted to kiss you?”

This shuts you up. He pulls you back down to kiss you again, this time on the cheek, on the forehead, the neck. 

“Don’t do anything you don’t want to do,” you say carefully, brushing a bead of sweat from his forehead. 

“No… no, I’m ready. I want this now,” he says, tugging at your shirt. You pull it off over your head and toss it into the grass, the game of hide and seek forgotten. Let the shirt be a warning flag to any nosy passerby. Fred kisses across your chest. 

“Freddie, we’re drunk,” you remind him, your breathing growing heavier as his tongue flicks across your nipple.

“I want you,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck in between kisses. “I want you, I want you, I want you,” he says. You kiss him in reply, and move again to unzip his pants. You feel his hard member ready to burst out of his jeans, and it sends a thrill through you.

You had considered that you might one day wind up with Fred or George, and honestly, you had figured it would be on some less-than-sober whim like this, but you never really pictured it. You certainly never imagined Fred like this, innocent and tame, hoping for someone else to take the lead.

“Will you show me how?”

“Yes,” you breathe your reply into his mouth.

“Will you go slow?” he asks sweetly, his coy submissiveness sending tremors through your body. 

“Yes. Come closer.”

In the morning, you groggily open your eyes at the sound of birds chirping. You sit up, your head throbbing, and look around. Above you and a few feet to your right, George is sleeping soundly on his belly in the flat convergence of an oak tree’s branches. To your left, shirtless and smeared with dirt, is Fred curled on top of his cloak, also fast asleep. 

“Guess they gave up on finding us,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair to smooth it into place. You remember what happened last night well enough, although some parts are cloudier than others, and you don’t remember deciding to fall asleep at all. You suppose it just happened at some point. Your heart beats faster, wondering if you and Fred will be an item after this, or if he’ll want to keep it quiet, or if you just won’t talk about it. You’re not sure what you want, yet. It’s still purple pre-dawn in the countryside, the sun not quite peeking over the horizon yet.

You know you enjoyed yourself, and you adore Fred- as a friend, certainly. As something more? Maybe. You brush away your anxieties and trust that you’ll settle things when you’re less groggy. Suddenly, it dawns on you that you’ve got to get back to the house before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley wake up and notice your absence. You stand up as though the ground caught fire, kicking at Fred and shouting at George to get down.

You fetch your shirt from a nearby bush, and pluck a twig from Fred’s hair as he looks up, dazed.

“God, my head,” he says, squinting up at you. “What the hell time is it?”

“Never mind that, you’ll have worse than a headache if we don’t get back to the house by like, yesterday.”

“Merlin!” George exclaims, perking up and basically falling from his perch to the ground. Recovering he stands up, taking his surroundings in. “Hold on, what the hell happened to you, Fred? Where’s your shirt?”

“No time for all that, go!” you say, shoving George in the direction you suppose the house is in. You muster as fast a pace as you can and follow him, Fred scrambling to gather his cloak and tee shirt before catching up with you. With George’s back to both of you, you exchange a goofy grin and a wave of relief runs through you. He obviously doesn’t consider last night a mistake, either. You slip your hand into his and make your way into the breaking dawn.

[apollosrambling]

Bite Me

This one is for Ronny who is the reason I can’t stop thinking about the weasleys and how I would like to be railed by them

Paining: male reader x Fred Weasley

Words: idk over 2k

Warnings: it’s VERY nsfw, like ,, this is plot, what plot shit. Also it’s kinda rough

“Bite me, Weasley.”

“You wish, l/n”

You glared at each other, only a foot apart as the rest of the herbology class watched in anticipation. You could hear Lee snickering behind you, likely from something George said. The broken flower pot at your feet, a plant wrapping around Fred’s feet. He had knocked the plant you’d been studying over while fucking around with his brother, and now you were covered in dirt.

“Mr. Weasley, Mr. L/N, please return to your seats and we can settle this after class.” Professor Sprout was beginning to sound desperate, and you had no doubt that you’d be in far more trouble if she didn’t have a soft spot for you.

“No need, Professor. I think I need to go change my uniform.” Sending a seething look Fred’s way, you snatched your bag from behind him and turned tail, trying not to stomp as you left the greenhouse and headed to the castle. You didn’t hear Sprout calling for Weasley to come back.

-

“Fuck, Weasley-”

“Hush.” He growled into your ear, hands ripping your shirt apart rather than taking the time to unbutton it. As much you wanted to be angry, you were distracted when a set of teeth clamped down on your neck, drawing another moan out of you. Between more arguing and trying to get changed, you’d somehow gotten closer, until his face was inches from yours and neither of you wanted to stop.

“What if someone comes back?”

“Then they’ll see you laid out on the bed, begging me to fuck you.” You were shoved against the wall next to Fred’s bed, arms pinned over your head and a knee between your legs. Chest heaving, unable to catch a break as his lips hit yours again. You’d lost hand privileges after yanking his head back with his hair, and although it’s torn a whimper out of him, it was clear who was in charge.

Fred pulled back, eyes dark and lips bruised, releasing his grip enough for you to wiggle your wrists from his hands.

“Get on the bed. Now.”

Merlin, how could you argue with that? You shrugged off the -now ripped- dirty button down from your shoulders as you went, tossing it in the general direction of your own bed. Fred climbed over you, long legs straddling your waist as his hands made quick work of his tie.

You watched with fascination, alternating between running your hands over his thighs and slipping your fingers into his waistband.

“Now you’re going to be a good boy for me, and you’re going to shut your mouth so no one hears us, and let me take my time.” His words startled you, more so than the soft silky material of the tie covering your eyes.

Instantly the world was dark, and your senses heightened. The rustle of Fred’s shirt hitting the floor, his buckle being undone. The feeling of his fingers brushing your skin, leaving you wondering what he would do next. It was almost too much.

A whimper made its way from your throat as his nails grazed your chest, pressure growing when he passed your nipples and softening when he hit the leather of your belt. He undid it with expert efficiency, pulling it off, your pants quickly following.

It was weird not being able to see, but you were also great full for it. It meant you felt his touches at a much more intense degree.

You blindly reach up, hands brushing his shoulders before finding a place in his hair, curling the ginger hair through your fingers. He doesn’t push you away this time, just inhaling sharply as his head moves down to kiss your chest, leaving marks and bites as he moves down towards the band of your boxers. You’re holding your breath, unsure of what his next move will be but craving his touches. If you’d known getting him to touch you like this only required a spat in herbology, you would have started one long ago.

“Fred-”

You’re cut off with an involuntary gasp, feeling hands cupping you through the thin fabric of your underwear and teeth on your pelvis.

“This is okay?” He sounds less sure, and you want to sob with want, but you’re also touched by his asking.

“Yes, yes, of course. If you don’t get your hands on me right now I’m going to- shit.”

“No, go on.” Fred is nearly purring, hands having slipped under the fabric and slowly dragging it down.

You can’t reply, your brain too busy repeating swears and mentally begging him to get on with it. He seems to read your mind, because suddenly there’s a whole lot more bare skin touching yours, and hot breath on your dick. It feels like an eternity before he’s finally wrapping his lips around you, tongue teasing another whine from your chest.

He’s moving so god damn slow that you want to scream, hands tightening in his hair and relishing in the groan it pulls from him. You make a note to be rough with him later, when you’re not at his mercy. A spare hand starts to slide up your chest, two fingers shoving their way into your mouth and giving you no choice but to suck. The anticipation of what would be happening next with those long fingers had you near drooling, but at least it was in your favor.

Just as your whines and pants get louder, he pulls off of your dick with a pop, trailing kisses down your thighs and back up, pulling his fingers from your mouth, much to your chagrin. You’d have to get your mouth on other parts of him, soon. He’s gentle during this part, whispering a spell, and fuck he can do wandless magic goes through your head, before his finger slips in you and you’re not sure what to do with your hands. You whimper, feeling his smirk on your hip bone.

“You’re awfully loose, y/n, do you do this often?”

“Every night.” You try to sound cocky, but it comes out breathy and desperate as he adds another finger to the mix. You’re so needy, but you know he’ll stop if you reach down to touch yourself. Instead, your fingers clench at the bed sheets. The blindfold is starting to slip, and you wonder if he’ll fix it, or if he’ll let you look at him.

Before your mind can wander, Fred’s fingers are pulling out of you and he’s moving away.

“Where are you going?” You feel a moment of fear, afraid he’s going to leave you there, before he’s back.

“Just pulling the curtains around us, sweetheart.”

His lips meet just under the tie, before his nimble fingers were untying the knot and pulling the blindfold away. Blinking your eyes open against the light, Fred Weasley looked absolutely ravaged. His lips were swollen, there were bright red scratch marks covering his chest, his hair looked like he’d walked through a wind tunnel, and there’s hickies you didn’t remember leaving.

“I want to see your eyes while I fuck you.”

Fuck

While you nod and suppress a loud moan, he moves to in between your legs. They seem to open naturally for him, and he runs his fingers down your thighs before effortlessly picking them up, swinging one over his shoulder and merlins beard, you know you’re in for it. Within a few moments he’s slowly sinking into you, studying the faces you make.

There’s a bit of a burn, but not enough so that it’s hindering the absolute pleasure you’re feeling at being full of the one man who never ceases to drive you insane. Those philosophers are right, opposites most certainly do attract.

“Fuck, Weasley.”

“Can’t even bother me to call you Fred when I’m deep inside and ready to rearrange your guts?”

“Merlin. Do you ever stop being an asshole?”

Rather than answer, he slams into you hard enough that you cry out loud enough that you’re sure the fourth years below can hear. Hopefully they haven’t skipped class like the two of you. Your hands fly to his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin and you hope they leave bruises.

He’s leaning down, mouthing at your neck, and his pace is ceaseless. You don’t have time to catch your breath in between moans and whimpers, particularly loud when he bites down and you’re going to have a hard time explaining that later.

“Come on, y/n, I know you can be louder.”

“Fuck!” It’s not that he changes his pace, it’s that he rakes his own nails down your chest, leaving a path of stinging skin. You can feel your belly heating.

“Freddie, please. I’m so close.”

“I like the sound of Freddie.”

You almost start crying when he slows down. In fact, you glare up at his smug face and yank his hair. He continues his tortuous pace, wrapping a hand around you and matching his movements.

“I told you I’d make you beg.”

You’d generally consider yourself a stubborn person. Usually, you don’t back down from fights. You’ve given a fair share of people a run for their money. However, your legs are shaking with need and your eyes are filling with tears because you’re so close but you know he won’t let you cum until you beg.

“Weasley, please-”

“Say my name.” His fingers brush against the base of your throat.

“Fred,” you sob out, “please, please fuck me. I need you to fuck me so hard my brain turns into mush.”

“Better.” His pace quickens, brushing your hair from your face and watching you as you close your eyes in pleasure, back arching off of the bed.

“Please, I need you.” You sound so broken, and your heart is beating too fast to keep up.

Fred seems to feel pity, because his hand quickens as well. You can tell he’s enjoying listening to your cries grow louder, your moans less spaced out. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach.

He seems to be getting close too, his hip movements more erratic.

You try to say please again, but it comes out as a jumbled mess and your brain is too caught up on how hot this is to fix it.

“Cum for me.”

His voice gives away how wrecked he feels. He’s breathing harder than he would after a particularly rough quidditch practice. At his demand, you can feel your body give in, all of the tension leaving as you finish with an almost scream that sounds like a mix of ‘Fred’ and ‘fuck’. His fingers find yours, pressing your hands into his pillow as he cums, teeth biting on your collarbone to avoid being too loud.

Both of your chests are heaving, you’re hot and sweaty and sticky, but you don’t want to move. Fred is still inside of you, but his body is pressed to yours as he tries to catch his breath.

“Reckon we should do that again?”

“Only if I get to tie you up next time.”

“We’ll see.”

You roll your eyes, but stroke his hair. It’s so soft, and you hate to admit it, but you’ve thought about running your fingers through it before now.

“We need to get dressed before the others come back from class.”

“I don’t know, I’d love for them to see you under me, covered in cum and clearly my bitch.”

“Suddenly I remember why I hate you.”

“You don’t.”

No, you don’t. Not really. But you won’t say that. Instead, you make a lazy motion for him to move so you can get up and grab your wand. He rolls over, watching in amusement as you stand on shaky legs. Damn. Are those bruises on your thighs? You find your discarded robes, reaching in to pull out your wand so you can at least somewhat clean yourself.

“Don’t heal yourself.”

“Why not?”

“So people know what we got up to.”

You eye the marks on Weasleys neck, and shrug. It’s clear you did a number on him as well. With a swish you’re both clean, but the bite marks, hickeys, and scratches are sure to give you away.

Despite his words, when you hear George’s laugh in the stairwell, you both look up in panic. Fred tosses your clothes to you, getting himself under the covers as you jump into your own bed and pull out a book, hoping it at least somewhat looks like you didn’t just leave the red heads bed.

Fred doesn’t seem to have anything to pretend to be doing, so he just watches you. George and Lee Jordan open the door to your dormitory and immediately lock eyes with you.

“Bloody hell.” Jordan’s eyes assess your bare chest, and you wish you’d thought to throw on a sweater.

“Fred doesn’t seem to much better.” George is giving his brother a look, seemingly trying not to laugh when he sees the scratches on his neck.

“Fuck off.” You say it at the same time, and then turn to glare at each other. Godrick, he does look ravished. You’re sure you’re not much better though.

“Well Weasley, you owe me ten galleons.”

“You two couldn’t have waited another three days?” George grumbles, moving to his chest so he can pull the coins out for Lee.

“You made bets on us?” You feel a little offended.

“‘Course we did l/n,” Lee says, “You two radiated so much unsolved sexual tension everyone in the greenhouse could feel it.”

“I didn’t think you’d make a move yet, though.”

“I made the move, George.”

“Sure, Fred.”

You grin at the younger Weasley, widening when he winks at you.

“Well I just came up here for a sweater, you two have fun.” Lee grabs said sweater before scurrying out of the room, George following with a cheeky wave.

The two of you are left alone and staring at each other.

“There’s time for a second round before dinner.” Fred looks too bloody satisfied with himself.

“Get your arse over here, then.”

[midearthwritings]

The reason we get along

No matter how serious the task is, there is always someone to joke around.

Words Count : 1,026

Pairing : Kíli & Reader

Warning : None

Author's Note : Requested by @dark-angel-is-back . I changed the plot a teeny tiny bit, hope you still like it!

It was a dream common to all beings to travel and see the world, in your opinion. It had been a great honor to be asked along on a quest that would help fulfill this dream. And greater honor to explore this unknown lands alongside the King Under the Mountain, in order to help him regain his long lost Kingdom. The path to the end of your journey was still long, it was no doubt. You had still many things left to see and many people yet to meet. You knew that when you would go back home—if— you would be a different person. Stronger and wiser, awakened.

But on a quest as serious and important as the one of reclaiming The Lonely Mountain, there was only so much time left for fun. And, far from you the idea of complaining, really, your mother hadn't raised you to be ungrateful. You just wished to see a smile on your companions' faces from time to time. Or, at least, not have them looking so serious and moody at all times.

And this was how, one day, you decided to make it a personal mission of bringing a little bit of joy in this adventure.

For days, you kept thinking of a way to give everyone a good laugh. Oh you had had many ideas, such as starting a food fight or pouring some water on someone's head when they didn't expect it. But you quickly chased them away when you realized the only outcome would be Thorin's wrath. And being lectured about how precious food was or how someone was going to get sick wasn't something you particularly wanted. Much less if it was by the King.

You had pretty much given up your wicked plan when one day, an opportunity presented itself to you.

As the company was setting camp for a well earned rest day, and you were ruminating alone in a corner about not being able to pull a smile out of them, you saw it. Him. The dwarf was coming back from fetching wood for the fire with his brother, and he was happily chatting. Kíli always looked so happy. And he was a good friend, really. The chances of offending him were weak. So, as the prince turned his back to your and bent down to get rid of the stack of branches his arms were busy with, you didn't think twice. Like a predator attacking its prey, you bolted towards him. In a swift movement, your fingers hooked in the hem of his breeches and pulled them all the way down to his ankles.

When you pulled back, everybody was quiet. The heaviness of the atmosphere made you doubt it all. And the way Kíli stood there, not saying anything, was terrifying. Perhaps you had been wrong and you just had disrespected the dwarf. After all, he was of royal blood.

The thought of running away from this situation crossed your mind when a loud snicker reached your ears.

"Well, it looks like you have lost something, brother."

Fíli's comment was soon followed by Dwalin's roaring laughter and you finally breathed—a breathe you didn't know you were holding. And one by one, every member of the company started to laugh, or at least let out an amused huff. Even Thorin.

The cacophony only grew louder when Kíli quickly pulled his garment back up, almost tripping.

It was refreshing, really, to see their faces so relaxed and hear the music of their joy. Happiness looked good on them.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice as your friend came closer to you. Dangerously closer, a grin painted on his face. Before you knew what was happening, you felt your back hitting the ground beneath you, Kíli's body holding your legs down firmly. Your eyes locked with his and you saw it, the glint of mischief the others always talked about.

"You better apologize, or I will make you regret your actions."

You raised your eyebrow at his playful threat and crossed your arms on your chest.

"And how so?" You asked defiantly. "By investing in a belt? I believe it would serve you well."

That's when it came. The sweet cramps in your middle. The pleasant torture of your friend tickling you. Instinctively, you tried to kick him away with your legs, but his weight kept them in place. Instead, you slapped his chest, in an attempt to make him retreat.

"Brother," he adressed Fíli, his eyes still on you. "Will you please give me your help?"

"As you asked so nicely."

All too soon, strong hands grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, and the predator became the prey. You were at Kíli's mercy. You looked up to the blonde dwarf and mouthed the word traitor, with some trouble due to his brother's ministrations on your body.

"Do you yield?"

The archer's question was simple, and it required a very simple answer. But the wiggling fingers between your ribs made it impossible to utter a single word. The only thing you could do was shake your head as you desperately gasped for air.

"Very well." He declared.

You barely had time to see the smile on his face growing bigger before his digits dug deeper into your sides. It was painful, deliciously painful. Your head was thrown back, your neck exposed as you laughed loud enough to make your lungs explode. Your nails were biting into Fíli's clothes, your feet kicking at the ground behind Kíli.

"Alright! I surrender!"

As you desperately cried out the words, the dwarves' hands left your body and you were left lying down, trying to catch your breathe.

Kíli offered you his hand and you happily grabbed it. He helped you back up on your feet, as you still giggled from the sensations.

"Next time," Kíli spoke up. "I'm not stopping until you are begging me to."

He winked at you, and once again, the three of you barked in laughter.

And if you found yourself, a few days later, with your own breeches down your legs, well, it was only fair. Wasn't it?

[niphredil-14]

Shaw Bai/MC Smut -- Show Off

Just so y’all know, I stopped actually playing MLQC a while ago due to money reasons, so I asked the lovely @lucienism for some plot information, so thank you to them, and I hope y’all enjoy reading

Pairing: Shaw Bai/Female!MC (Reader) Rating: NSFW Warnings: Exhibitionism, vaginal penetration, bondage, blindfolding, biting, angst if you’re a Gavin stan,  Tag List: @silvercrownsworld @stehkotori Word Count: 1.037k

She should have known that play fighting with Shaw wouldn’t have ended innocently, him holding her phone above his head as they hung out in her room wouldn’t have ended with one of them triumphing when MC tackled him to the ground trying to get it back. She should have been expecting that after she grabbed it, that she would realize the position they were in, and that Shaw would have tugged her lips to his by her scalp. Though she didn’t realize any of that, which led to her current predicament. 

The lavender haired man below her groaned into her mouth as he rolled them over, pinning MC’s hands to the ground with only one of his, as his other made its way to the back of one of her thighs as he began to slowly grind against her core. With a gasp, she rolled her hips upward, silently begging for more friction, for him to touch her more. A tangle of limbs, they continued to fight for dominance, lolling their heads to the side every now and again or jerking their bodies’ against the carpeted floor once more. The man could only stay at that stage for so long, and before she was aware of it, MC had been lifted into the air, and abruptly thrown to the bed. Shaw wasted no time in climbing atop her and ripping her blouse open, sending sky blue buttons flying. Her bra didn’t last much longer, nor did his jacket or shirt with her hands pawing just as much as his. With both their torsos bare, Shaw didn’t hesitate to litter kisses and bite marks all over her chest and neck. The pink satin of her bedsheets didn’t do much to ground her, only serving to wrap around her half naked body like an ocean of softness accenting her curves perfectly. Shaw pulled back for a moment to catch his breath and appreciate his work,  “God, you’re so fucking pretty.” He groaned, palming her breasts roughly, and pinching and pulling at her hard nipples.  “Mmmh, Shaw, please.” She moaned, earning a cruel chuckle from her lover. “Hm? What is it, Baby?” Shaw teased. “What do you want from me?” He knew all too well what she wanted, that was obvious from how more rough his grinding got after her request, but he still wasn’t going to give her anything without hearing her beg. “Your cock! I want your cock in me, Shaw, please!” “Good girl.” Almost instantly, Shaw’s belt was ripped off, and MC wad flipped onto her front with her hands behind her back, now secured in the leather. “On your knees.” Shaw ordered. MC slowly moved to balance herself on her knees, struggling to position herself without the use of her arms to stabilize herself, but once she got there,  she was immediately pushed onto her chest, ass in the air. And with one tug, her underwear and skirt were torn off, and Shaw was quick to slide his index and middle fingers into her wet cunt. He was met with an immediate response, MC mewling at the entrance of Shaw’s digits, and began to wiggle her hips. Her control over her movements was lost when electricity went shooting up her body, leaving an earthquake of convulsions in its wake. When the sparks finally stopped, she received a sharp slap to her left ass cheek, and a simple, short phrase growled into her ear, “Be a good little whore for me and don’t. Move.” MC’s body stilled, and the man over her showed his appreciation by re-inserting his fingers, and beginning to thrust them at a slow but hard pace, after feeling her accept him, adding his ring finger to the mix. Shaw worked his fingers, every now and again sending a small shock up her body, until he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned to look out MC’s window, only to find Gavin hovering, shock written all over his face. Shaw smirked, pulled his fingers out, and used the sash of MC’s skirt to blindfold her all while holding Gavin’s gaze.  “Shaw?” The woman questioned, only to be tugged backwards to the edge of the bed, where Shaw was sitting, pants and boxers already removed.  “C’mere, baby,” Shaw said, positioning MC over his hardened dick, holding her waist. “Ride.” Shaw let go of her waist to let MC fall onto his cock, but was quick to grab her hips again as MC rolled her hips against his. She lifted her hips, only to drop them back down once more, and followed that with circling herself on Shaw’s pelvis, her hands tugging against the restraints as her head fell back against the lavender-haired man’s shoulder, squeals and mewls escaping her puckered lips. The hurt and jealousy in Gavin’s eyes grew every second, here was the love of his life, in a position he had dreamed of since his teenage years, and yet she was with his brother, the forever-favorite child, who had just so happened to be staring him in the eyes with the smuggest expression. Shaw knew he had stolen Gavin’s girl, and it gave him a huge ego boost. He untied MC’s hands, and they shot straight to his hair, tugging harshly at the lavender locks, dragging a few hushed groans from the man. Shaw began thrusting upwards, pulling MC down onto him, falling into a rhythm. He pushed his head against hers, angling her so she was facing the brunette man, “Who’s doing this to you?” Her lover growled in her ear.  “Shaw!” MC moaned.  “I didn’t catch that, who’s making you feel so good?” “Shaw!”  “Scream it or I’m not gonna let you come, whore.” “Shaw! Shaw, Shaw, Shaw, Shaw!” With each chant of his name, Shaw’s smirk grew, and Gavin’s heart shattered a bit more.  “Good girl” Shaw said, as he moved his hand to her clit, circling the nub and sending shocks into it, forcing her orgasm to come crashing down over her. Shaw came only a moment later, and the couple slumped down onto the bed.

Neither one of them saw the older brother fly away, or the single tear falling from his eye.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Opening Night

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When Loki scores the lead in a production of West Side Story, the two of you become fast friends. You help convince him to face his fears and invite the Avengers to see the show. Warnings: a bit of innuendo, fluffy, and extremely self-indulgent A/N: It isn’t necessary to know the plot of West Side Story to read this, but I still recommend you guys check it out. They made it into a movie that’s pretty much the same as the stage version. And if you’re interested in the songs I used in this, they’re here and here. Also, idk if this is common knowledge, but a stage manager is the person in charge of tech, set changes, and all that jazz. Theater has always been a huge part of my life, so I definitely wrote this with myself in mind but I hope you can all enjoy too!

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02​​ @frostedgiant​​ @lunarmoon8​​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​​ @lokistan​​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​​ @gaitwae​​ @whatafuckingdumbass​​ @castiels-majestic-wings​​ @kozkaboi​​ @cozy-the-overlord​​ @birdgirl90​​ @myraiswack​​​ @mythicalgarlicknot​​ @what-a-flammable-heart​ @mlqcikemenmc​

Disclaimer: Picture not mine.

He looked so beautiful up there on that stage, you thought. He almost didn’t get the part either; Auggie, the director, had been worried that putting the God of Mischief in the lead role would be bad for business. You’d fought for him, though, and you’d been right; tickets were nearly sold out once people found out an Avenger was performing. Besides that, Loki was extremely talented, and you were certain no one else could have carried the role quite so well as he had been. It was a definite plus that he had become a very close friend, too. And you maybe, just maybe, had a tiny crush on him.

“It’s getting late,” you said once he finished singing, applauding as you walked out of the wings. Everyone else had already gone home, so it was just you and Loki. He’d wanted to stay and practice a bit more, and as stage manager, you had to stay to lock the place up. “Are you ready to head out?”

He looked out at the empty seats in the audience of the community theater. You wondered why he hadn’t tried out for off-Broadway, or even Broadway itself; he was certainly talented enough. Somehow, he didn’t see it. You could still remember the look of excitement on his face when you officially met him for the first time. How he’d told you he hadn’t been expecting the lead role. It hadn’t been what he’d tried out for, after all. You assured him that in this production of West Side Story, it was a clear choice who should play Tony. Him. Your friendship moved rapidly after that.

“I do not know, darling,” he replied. “Opening night is this week, and I want to make sure I am as good as I can be. If you would like to lock up and leave, I can just teleport home.”

“No. If you’re staying, I’m staying.” He smiled as you put your bag down and sat on one of the wooden blocks you’d painted weeks before. “Don’t you think you should give your voice a break, though?”

“Ah you forget darling, I have the stamina of a god,” he replied with a wink. You averted your eyes, hating where your mind went after that statement. “Besides, I have been resting it at home.”  

“Fine, but I swear if you lose your voice, I’m not helping you break the news to Auggie,” you giggled.

He chuckled, “Fair enough, darling.”

Convinced that he could handle it, you let him play the track and start singing. As he practiced his part from the Quintet, he walked over and knelt before you. You were certain the expression of complete adoration on his face was just good acting, but it still made your heart flutter. As the music crescendoed, he stood up and offered you his hand, taking you to center stage. He kept singing to you the whole time, his hand coming to caress your cheek as was dictated by his choreography. Again, you knew that’s all it was, but the butterflies in your stomach didn’t care.

As the song ended, he didn’t immediately move to turn off the music like he usually did. Instead, he stood where he was a minute more, one hand cupping your cheek, the other on your waist. A kiss most certainly wasn’t supposed to happen here, but you swore he started to lean in towards you. Afraid to break the spell, you didn’t say anything. When the next song started playing, he came out of whatever trance he was in and moved back, clearing his throat.

“Sorry,” he apologized, the faintest of blushes coloring his cheeks. “I just got lost in the song, I suppose.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you replied, rocking back and forth on your heels, disappointed. “It’s fine, I totally get it.”

After turning off all the lights, the two of you finally left, stopping for a coffee on the way home, as had become tradition. You laughed as he told you a story of his childhood on Asgard, animatedly waving his hand about. Waiting for a light at a crosswalk, your phone chimed, and you checked it.

“Shoot. I got to go, Loki,” you informed him. “The copy place finished with the playbills, and I should run to pick them up before it closes. I don’t wan’t to hold you up, though.”

“Nonsense,” he said, changing direction to walk back the way you’d came. “It would be my honor to accompany you.”

You made it just in time to pick up the box, which was heavy enough that you swallowed your pride and let Loki carry it. Since it was cheaper to just fold and staple the pages yourself, you had quite a bit of work ahead of you. Sure, you’d get the rest of the crew to help you tomorrow, but you wanted to get a jump start tonight. You told Loki as much when you’d started the trek back in the direction of your apartment, and his answer surprised you.

“Why not come to the Tower? I can help you put them together,” he offered.

“Oh,” you replied, the butterflies in your stomach returning. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“It would be no trouble to have you, darling. Really.” It was already dark out, making it hard to see, but you were pretty sure he was blushing again. “It is much closer than your home. Of course, there is no pressure to say yes.”

You shyly smiled at him. “Thank you, Loki. That’s very generous. I would love to come.”

The smile he gave you could have lit up the whole city, it was so bright. It was probably silly to be so happy that you could make his face light up like that, but you couldn’t help it. That was when you realized that your little crush had turned into something much, much more. You were falling in love with him. You were convinced it was unrequited though, so you wouldn’t say anything. You just hoped that you’d stay in touch once the show was done and rehearsals stopped.

Everyone knew of Avenger Tower, of course, but few had ever been inside. You marveled at the massive lobby as he led you to a private elevator that said “Avengers Only”. It made sense, you thought, that they should have their own if they lived here. And of course it was so high tech that it had to scan his eye to start working. He chuckled a little at the amazement on your face, thinking you looked absolutely adorable.

“Ok,” he whispered as you stepped out of the lift. “I am sure most of the team is asleep by now, so if we just slip past and-”

“Brother!” Thor boomed, cutting off Loki. “There you are! You’ve been gone all day- Oh. And who is this?” he asked, noticing you.

You introduced yourself, and Thor shook your hand with a firm grip. Even though you’d already known Loki for months now, you were still freaking out a little at meeting another Avenger. Really, how many civilians could say they knew not one, but two superheroes? You nearly lost it when Iron Man and Black Widow rounded the corner.

“Hey, Reindeer Games. You made a friend,” Mr. Stark said. Then he wiggled his eyebrows and added, “Or maybe something more.”

“Oh, shove off, Tony,” Nat said, flicking the side of his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

You introduced yourself to the newcomers, and they asked you to call them by their first names. The only other time you’d been this star struck was, unsurprisingly, when Loki had shown up at the audition. You looked over at Loki, who seemed rather uncomfortable. Though you wanted to chalk it up to him just being nervous his two worlds were colliding, you could tell there was something more to it. You worried for a second that he was embarrassed of you, but you didn’t really think it was that either, certain that notion was just your insecurity getting the better of you.

“Well, we should be going then,” Loki said, ready to retreat to his room.

“Oh, come on,” Tony replied. “That’s no fun. Why don’t you guys join us for a drink in the kitchen?”

You were tempted to say yes, but Loki shifted the box in his hands, reminding you of why you were there in the first place. Besides, if Loki wasn’t feeling up to it, you didn’t want to subject him to socializing. Not to mention an evening alone with him sounded absolutely magical.

“No, it’s fine,” you answered, and Loki sent you an appreciative smile. “We’ve got work to do, anyway.”

“Oh?” Thor questioned. “Does it happen to have something to do with the mystery box my brother is carrying?”

“Actually, yes,” you told him with a smile. “See, they’re playbills for-”

“For the show that they are a stage manager for,” Loki interjected, looking absolutely panicked. “That is all. No more questions needed.”

“Oh, that’s so exciting!” Nat smiled. “Are the tickets available yet? Can we come see it?”

“No, sorry, it is sold out,” Loki replied before you could, an expression of utter befuddlement on your face. “Maybe next time. Now, as we said, we have work to do. Alone.”

“Hey, it’s alright, Reindeer Games,” Tony said, winking, and ushered the others away. “I get what you’re saying. You two kids have fun now.”

Loki’s face was burning from embarrassment as he led you to his quarters. Your mouth dropped open at the sheer size of it. You guessed that after the lobby it shouldn’t have surprised you. Besides how vast it was, it somehow screamed Loki. The green furniture with black and gold accents. The numerous floor to ceiling bookshelves that didn’t have a single inch unoccupied. The carefully crafted decor, often featuring snakes subtly carved into it. And you were completely surrounded by his scent that you could never exactly figure out, but was very distinctly his.

You were brought back to reality by the light thud of the box on a table. As you walked toward him, Loki kept his eyes averted, focusing on taking the stacks of paper out. Standing beside him, you worked in silence for a few minutes until you couldn’t take it anymore, and finally had to ask what was on your mind.

“So, uh, what exactly was all that about?” you inquired.

“Oh, they are just very animated people,” he replied with a shrug. “And Stark is, well, Stark, so he has basically no filter. I am very sorry if they bothered you, darling.”

“That’s very sweet, Loki, but I didn’t mind it at all, actually,” you replied, folding the first playbill together. He snapped his fingers and a couple of staplers appeared on the table. “That’s not really what I was talking about, though.”

“Oh? Whatever did you mean then?”

“Please don’t play dumb,” you begged. The light clicks from the stapler filled the silence of the room as you waited for him to reply. When he didn’t say anything, you sighed. “I mean, why didn’t you say you had the lead in the show that these are for? In fact, why haven’t you told them about it already?”

He shrugged and made a noncommittal mumble, focusing on the repetitive task in hopes of distracting himself. You stopped working in favor of resting your hand atop his. It made Loki stop, too, and he finally looked you in the eye.

“Look,” you began. “You obviously don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to; I understand, and I’d never want to pressure you into something that would make you uncomfortable. But I know you bottle a lot of things up, and that’s not really healthy. So if you do want or need to talk... I don’t know, I guess I just want you to know that I’m here for you.”

Then you hugged him. The simple action seemed to startle him so much that you feared it was unwanted and you’d been too forward. But when he hugged you back, you could feel the gratitude in his embrace, easing your worries. It was like he was holding onto you for dear life. As if you you were a lifesaver, and he was adrift at sea. It was a tense sort of desperation leaving his body, you realized, as he sank against your touch. You gently rubbed his back as his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You’d always thought he might be touch starved, but now you could feel it in the way he practically molded his body against yours, obviously trying to make the most of the contact. You wondered if that may have something to do with why he kept West Side Story a secret. Maybe he’d been neglected too many times in his life, now thinking the things he does don’t matter to anyone.

“I suppose I am just scared, darling. Scared that they would not want to come, that they would make fun of me, that I would fail in front of them,” he sighed. “Perhaps it is silly. I am sorry.”

“Oh, Loki, there’s no need to apologize. I meant what I said, I’m here for you.” You didn’t think it was possible, but he held you even closer. “Everyone gets stage fright from time to time. And you’ve never even performed before. Whatever the reason, it’s still perfectly valid and understandable.”

“Thank you, darling,” he sniffled, and you realized he was crying.

Leading him over to the couch, you sat and continued to hold him. You whispered and cooed calming things in his ear. He tried to apologize for the tear stains marking your shirt, but you were having none of that. Everyone deserved a good crying session every once in a while, and you told him as much, encouraging him to let it out.

“Better?” you asked, wiping away the last few tears from his cheeks when he did finally calm down. There were some stray locks of hair sticking to his wet face, and you brushed them away, too.

“Mhm,” he nodded. He looked so fragile in this moment that you wished there was something more you could do to help him. “Thank you so much, darling. I think I needed that.”

You were worried that kissing the tip of his nose would be too intimate an action, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were very happy when he preened under the attention. “You’re very welcome, Loki.”

“I must ask, you are not going to tell them, are you? That I have the lead, I mean.”

“Well, no.” You ran your fingers through his hair as he sighed in relief. “But you should.”

“Do I have to?” he asked, giving you puppy dog eyes that made you chuckle a bit.

“I mean, it’s not required. I think you’d feel better if you did, though.”

“I suppose.”

“From what I can see, they love you, Loki,” you comforted him. “They’re your family, don’t you think?”

“How is it that you always know what to say?” he smiled up at you.

“I guess I’m just magic,” you laughed. He made to get up, but it seemed like it was a chore to tear himself away from you. You gently pulled him back down to you. “You don’t have to get up. You know, if you don’t want to.”

“I do not, but we hardly put any of the playbills together.” Even as he said that, he cuddled into your side. “I feel guilty taking up all our time.”

“Believe it or not, I’m perfectly happy to spend our time like this,” you reassured him, reaching for a blanket and covering your bodies with it. You’d been so concerned about Loki’s well-being that you hadn’t really contemplated the situation you were in. Now you couldn’t help but wonder if this snuggling was a normal thing for friends to do, or if it were a sign of something more. “I’d much rather help you through whatever’s on your mind than put together some playbills. There’s still plenty of time for that.”

“Thank you again, darling,” he hummed as both of you began to doze off, tired from a long day of run-throughs. As sleep claimed you, though you felt it must have been a dream, you swore you heard him whisper, “I love you.”

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

The rest of the week leading up to opening night was so hectic, you barely even had a second to dwell on that night with Loki. It was probably better that way, for if you had thought too hard about that morning, waking up in each other's arms, you were certain your heart would burst from happiness. So, no, it was better that you were focusing on the show.

“Guess who, darling,” Loki whispered in your ear as you reviewed the script in the wings, making sure everything was set for top of show.

“Loki,” you smiled, spinning to face him and throwing your arm around his shoulders. One of his arms encircled your waste. When you stepped back, his other came around from behind his back to present you with a bouquet of flowers. “Thank you so much! I actually have something for you, too.”

You grabbed the arrangement that you’d bought and gave it to him. You nearly melted under his soft gaze as he expressed his thanks. His makeup was already done, accentuating his already striking beauty. A large part of you wanted to lean forward and kiss his plump, pink lips.

“I have some news,” he declared. “I have told my fellow Avengers about the show. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” you asked, cocking your head.

“Well, I left tickets and a note for them to come tonight.” He nervously shifted his weight. “They do not yet know that they will be watching me perform, though. It was too hard to tell them, so I figured why not show them?”

You beamed at him. “That’s wonderful! I’m so proud of you. You’re going to do amazing.”

There was a slight hesitation behind his eyes, as if he was contemplating something very carefully. “Darling, there is something I have to tell you.”

“Yes?”

Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, the director burst into the wings. “There you are, Loki. I’ve been looking all over for you. Mic checks in five,” he said.

“My apologies, Auggie,” he replied before turning to you and resting a hand on your arm. “We’ll talk later, ok? Have a good show.”

“Thanks. Break a leg,” you nodded as he left, agonized by not knowing what he was going to tell you. You noticed Auggie giving you a look. “What?”

“I swear, you two better kiss before this week is over,” he muttered, leaving the wings shaking his head.

The remainder of the day passed in a blur, and you could hardly believe that it was already time for the show. You’d peeked out before it started and noticed the Avengers sitting in the front row. Those tickets had been sold out for weeks, and you smiled, realizing that Loki had wanted to invite them all along. He just needed a little push to actually do it.

Before Loki walked out onto the stage, you gave his hand a little squeeze. Despite how nervous you knew he was, he gave his best performance yet. After his first song was done, you glanced out at the audience to see the Avengers already giving him a standing ovation. You could see in his eyes how taken aback he was. He waited around in the wings until your set change was done so you could share in his joy. He gave you a quick, tight hug, absolutely radiant.

The rest of the show went perfectly, and Loki stunned the audience every time he stepped on stage. You were beyond happy for him, especially when he received thundering applause during bows. He came and hugged you again as soon as you finished closing the curtain.

“Loki, you were amazing,” you told him.

“Thank you, darling. And your set changes were flawless,” he complimented you in return. “I cannot believe the first show is done already.”

The two of you talked for a minute more before he had to go change out of his costume. You looked out from the stage a little bit later to see the Avengers hugging him and giving him more flowers than you could count. Even from a distance, you could see happy tears welling in his eyes. It made you grin uncontrollably to see him happy like that.

Later that night, you’d told the rest of the cast and crew to go ahead to the diner to celebrate without you, that you’d catch up later. You wanted to stay behind and touch-up a set piece that some paint had slightly chipped off of. Suffice it to say, you were a little startled when a voice cut through what you had presumed to be an empty theater.

“Always you. Every thought I’ll ever know,” Loki began singing his part from Tonight, walking down the aisle towards the stage. “Everywhere I go, you’ll be. All the world is only you and me.”

You chuckled as he ascended the stairs and took your paintbrush from your hand, setting it down on the tarp. He skipped to his next part in the song and began twirling you around the stage. After hearing so many rehearsals, you knew the words by heart and joined in, singing the duet with him. When you reached the dialogue breaking up the song, you stopped dancing, both panting a little.

“Loki,” you laughed. “What are you still doing here? I thought you went to the diner with everyone else.”

“Yes, well, you were not going to be there yet, and I have not had the chance to tell you what I have wanted to all day.”

“Oh my goodness,” you gasped. “I nearly forgot about that in all the excitement of the day. But you have my full attention now. What’s up?”

“I love you,” he said plainly.

You weren’t convinced that this wasn’t a dream or a hallucination of some sorts. But no, he’d said it, clear as day. He loves you. Loki loves you. It was shocking, to say the least. Of course, it was completely welcome, though. In your surprise, you took long enough to formulate a response that his smile faltered a little. His worries were erased when you kissed him, however. The god responded immediately, kissing you back with just as much passion as you did him.

“I love you, too,” you told him just as simply as when he’d said it to you.

After finishing up in the theater, you exited the building. Once outside, Loki couldn’t resist kissing you again before meeting up with the rest of the company. And, being the fluffy sap he was, he absolutely had to tell you he loved you again, this time referencing the show.

“Te adoro,” he said.

You beamed at him again. “Te adoro, Loki.”

[fusrodie]

request: Karl teaching Moreau how to work a TV, please?

this incorporates some of my headcanons for both of them, and I apologize in advance, anon, the hand slipped and went places I didn't expect. still, I hope you like it! thank you very much for the request! <3

SFW, angsty with some brotherly love. mentions traumatic past. around 1.1K words.

There was much about Salvatore Moreau that reminded him of the sea. The smell was a dead giveaway, sure, webbed hands and feet too outlandish to ignore. His skin had faded into a grayish blue long ago, tattoos eclipsed amidst boils and scales. He sure looked the part, even before the bald spot and crooked teeth, before the weight of his brain pushed him down and his knees bent to support it.

There was something about the melancholy in his eyes, the way he would spend hours staring out into the water, feet paddling absentmindedly as he sat at the edge of the pier. He searched the horizon for something, a monster not unlike himself lurking in the waters, a siren singing from atop a rock. Heisenberg had asked him once, before his mind slowly began to descend into numbness and devotion, about the things he had seen and the creatures he had met.

Salvatore was much different then, head full of hair the color of night, mismatched eyes that spoke of a soul deep with dreams. One for the sea and another to keep him grounded, he would say, water to never lose his sea legs, earth to remind him of what he had left behind. He was quite the storyteller, as were most fishermen; gigantic fish and mirages of riches and solid land in the vastness of the ocean. Treasures buried never to be found again, temples swallowed whole by the waves, tales and peoples lost forever. Most of all he spoke of his love, of golden mane and fiery eyes, of freckles spread over their shoulders like a delicate necklace. The voice of an angel and wits of a demon, elegant fingers that used to run through his hair as they eased him into sleep, a lullaby he had long forgotten filling the room where they once declared their love forevermore.

And then he had forgotten, because he had lost it all. Ship, sea, riches. Crew mates, friends, family. Lover, love, self. He had drowned in the deepest, darkest of waters, only to be brought back to life a shell of man. He had lost it all and he had grabbed onto what he could find, a family that didn’t love him, a love that didn’t suit him, a ship that was bound to sink. Hopelessness, devotion, mother. Lab, experiment, parasite. Sickness, blood, monstrosity.

His notions twisted, his stories silenced. Whiling away the hours in search of nothing, perhaps the yearning for the smell of the shore, the freedom of the seas. Fashioning his golden riches out of the only things he had left. Death, bones, loneliness.

Heisenberg would never admit it, would never allow himself to say that he missed young, bright Moreau, the sailor of tantalizing smiles and dazzling stories. He was no longer that person, he would never again be that person. Moronic freak, that was all he was now, and it was better this way. Hating him made it easier, hating them all made it easier. Try as he might, hurt as it would, he could not pull Salvatore out from the depths of Charybdis’ mouth. Mourning the loss of his brother would mean letting himself sink alongside him. Moronic freak, his brother had died long ago.

His flashes of consciousness always tugged at his heartstrings. He would begin his spiels about being a good son to Miranda, only to hang onto a word for a little longer than necessary, dwell in it as if it had brought back memories that were taken from him. Heisenberg would hope then, hope that he would break out of the shell and into the world, finally raise his head above the water and take a deep breath. But he never would, because she had changed them, had changed him, turned him into a fraction of the man he once was. He missed the brother who was his counterweight and foil, the heart to contrast his rationality, the romantic against his cynicism.

He could never bring him back, though he wished to try and bring him some solace, a nostalgic piece of his old self. Moreau hadn’t been expecting his visit, much less the old box that he had brought along. His life as a fisherman had never afforded him any luxuries, his shack always lit by candlelight, his clothes always second-hand. He stared confused at the television as Heisenberg put it down, completely silent as Karl pulled cables and wiggled the antenna into place. A box that tells stories, he explained at last, that lets you peek out into the world even though they were confined to that miserable little village.

A screen, dials, buttons, Heisenberg pointed, encouraging Moreau to experiment of his own accord. The static had startled him, hands quickly covering his ears as the ungodly noise echoed through the room. Turn this to make it quieter, and that to find a new story to see. Like turning the pages of a book? Like turning the pages of a book, one that never ended, that changed its plot from one day to the other. Through it all he was attentive, devoting his full attention to learning all there was to learn, hoping to dive head first into that well of wonders.

Salvatore’s eyes widened at the sight of people behind the screen, fingers reaching to touch and rescue the characters trapped behind the glass. Not trapped, Heisenberg explained. Not real, but real enough to make us believe. They sat together through the first film, some old comedy that had long lost its luster, cartoonish characters hitting each other on the head and slipping on banana peels. He had never heard Moreau laugh so openly, so gleefully, hands slapping against his knees and tears coming out of his eyes. Heisenberg watched his brother lose himself in the film, for once forgetting all about the pain he had been through, their monster of an adopted mother, the atrocities she had them commit. For once he saw his young friend again, a moment he wished to keep forever in his heart.

He had made to rise and leave when a lone tear threatened to spill out unbidden, a sign that he had already let himself wallow too much. Salvatore awkwardly looped his arms around him before he could make it past the door, damp face against his trench coat as he giggled and thanked him. Heisenberg said nothing, refusing to acknowledge such affection; not unlike he did in the olden days, knuckles rubbing against the top of Moreau’s head in mock annoyance like they were children again.

The film was over when he left the reservoir, Salvatore’s laughter giving way to dramatic silence, grief and rage like a rock at the bottom of Heisenberg’s stomach.