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redeemingvillains · 2 months ago

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veritaserum - mattheo riddle

summary: when mattheo drinks veritaserum on a bet, he's confident he doesn't have anything to hide... until you show up.

word count: 3.1k

a/n: gosh i love this messy boy. just a little something sweet + fun!

"I don't know... shouldn't we save it for something... important?"

"Like, what Blaise?" Malfoy responded, exasperated.

"Yeah, got any plans you want to share?" Theo asked.

"All ears, bud" Mattheo joined in.

Blaise threw his hands up. "Fine, fuck it, do what you want with it" he said, resigned, referring to the small vial in Malfoy's hand that had the group's rapt attention as they huddled in the corner of their dormitory like they were first years at a sleepover.

"We should put it in somebody's goblet at dinner."

"We should slip it into Dumbledore's cup, Merlin knows what the geezer would say."

Theo got a wicked look on his face, "I'll give any of you lot 100 galleons to drink it."

Eyes widened around their circle at that.

"You're joking."

"Piss off."

"No, listen to me, we think we know everything about each other, don't we?" Theo continued, letting the sentiment linger "Which means the things we don't know are deep."

He grabbed the vial from Malfoy and dangled it in front of them; Veritaserum, the most powerful truth serum in the wizarding world, even having it in their possession was breaking about 15 Ministry laws.

Members of the group stared shiftily at one another, but Theo found Mattheo's gaze staring boldly at him as he leaned casually against his four-poster, a smirk on his face.

"Make it 200 and you've got yourself a deal" Mattheo grinned.

Snickers of laughter took the group as they punched one another in amusement and excitement.

"Bottoms up" Theo said, tossing the vial at him.

"I've got nothing to hide" Mattheo replied with an air of emblazoned confidence as he deftly popped the cork and threw the liquid back like a shot of firewhiskey before anyone could stop him.

It didn't taste like anything other than water, and for a moment Mattheo thought this was the easiest 200 galleons he'd ever make, but then he felt a sort of bubbling in his chest, like every feeling, every sentence he'd ever held back wanted to burst forth.

"...Well?" asked Malfoy, cautiously, leaning in, "How do you feel?"

"Bloody weird" Mattheo said, looking down at the empty vial in his hand. "And apprehensive, like I definitely don't want you to ask me things." His eyes widened at the words that had come so truthfully and vulnerably out of his mouth before he could stop them, suddenly realizing that he'd made a horrible mistake.

Theo was howling with laughter, leaning in and rubbing his hands together as he got ready to obliterate his best friend for being so cocky; he was going to make every galleon worth it.

"Did you take Blaise's Chudley Cannons scarf last term?" he asked.

"Yup, sold it to a fifth year for a bag of weed— SHIT" Mattheo said quickly, eyes wide before slapping a hand over his mouth.

"Mate, what the fuck?—" Blaise started, but Theo was on a tear.

"—Did you cheat off of Lorenzo's potions exam this week?"

"Of course" Mattheo admitted, the words blasting by his hand, "I've been doing it since fourth year, his handwritings the size of my fist, thanks for that by the way" he said, looking at Enzo.

"Prego, amico" Lorenzo said smiling and shrugging, "happy to help."

"Alright then" Blaise said, the anger and frustration clear in his voice as he eyed Mattheo, "better own up, didn't you slip McLaggen a galleon to let Theo score on him last match?"

"Yeah, fuck, and I'm not sorry about it. I'm tired of hearing Theo piss and complain about losing when he barely shows up to practice and lets the rest of us down."

"OOHHH!" shouted several of the guys.

"Fucking harsh mate!!"

"What the fuck?!?" Theo shouted angrily as he lunged for Mattheo and the others tried to hold him back.

Amidst the shouting and commotion, they didn't hear you knock on the door.

"Guys?" you asked, raising your voice to be heard.

Five heads turned your way as they stopped mid-brawl and began to stand up and right themselves, adjusting their ties and smoothing their robes. For his part, Mattheo's heart nearly shot out of his chest. No, no no no not right now he thought as you pushed your way into their room. On any other occasion he'd be thrilled to see you, but now the bubbling in his chest was reaching its peak at the sight of his deepest, most tightly held secret: you, and every single thing he felt about you.

He took in your amused smile, the light laughter on your lips, the way it made your eyes sparkle and he felt his palms tingle with sweat as he grasped them into fists and swallowed deeply, like he could ingest his own thoughts. You were his best friend, had been since the moment he met you on his first train ride to Hogwarts and he had no illusions about ruining your friendship by trying for anything else; girls like you didn't end up with guys like him.

"Are you alright?" you asked, looking at him strangely before his friends chimed in for him.

"S'fine!"

"Yeah, yeah!"

"Never better!"

"What do you need, love?"

"I am NOT fine!" Mattheo said boldly and rather loudly before he could stop himself and your eyes shot to him with concern.

"Wait, what's wrong Matty?" you asked, using the nickname he only tolerated coming from you.

He pursed his lips tightly and shook his head, averting his eyes to the floor, physically warring with the words that were flooding his subconscious.

What's wrong? A lot of things are wrong, YN. For starters, I love you. I love you so much it physically pains me to spend as much time as we do together and not to grab your hand, to pull you onto my lap, to nuzzle into your neck, to kiss you; I have a list of things I want to do to you every time I see you. Especially in that godsdamn skirt you're wearing. It's my favorite. You should know that. And I wish you would stop wearing it, you have no idea the ways guys look at you. I wish you'd wear it only for me. I wish you'd want me the way I want you, because I want you so badly. I wish you were mine, but I'm scared, no, fucking terrified of the way I feel about you because love is vulnerability and vulnerability is weakness and I can't tell you any of this so please, please don't ask me anything and please, please stop looking at me like that.

"Matty?" you asked again, now thoroughly concerned as your best friend slammed his hands over his ears as you walked towards him.

Theo was burning hot with anger, stewing over what Mattheo had said about him, he wanted to take him down a notch, to embarrass him in return. "Admit it" he interrupted, staring at Mattheo "you have a thing for Pansy and you've tried to make a move on her even though she's with Draco."

You stopped short of approaching Mattheo and stared at Theo.

"What?" you whispered, feeling physically ill, jealous and hurt even though you had no such right.

Mattheo straightened up and glared at Theo.

"What the fuck did you just say?!" Draco said, brushing past you as he came for Mattheo.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Theo pushed further, so smug, so certain he was right.

"No you fucking prat" Mattheo spat at him.

Draco grabbed Mattheo by the front of his robes. "You swear it, you haven't made a move on her?"

"I swear it."

"Not even before we were dating?" Malfoy pressed.

"Not even before you were dating" Mattheo confirmed.

"What the fuck is going on?" you said, exasperated, almost to yourself as you tried to calm down.

"Veritaserum" Blaise said by way of explanation as he leaned in to be heard over the continued shouting of your friends. "Theo bet one of us to drink it and, well..." he said, gesturing his hand by way of explanation at the calamity in front of you.

Malfoy was shouting questions at Mattheo who looked genuinely surprised if not annoyed, and Enzo was looking back and forth at them like it was a tennis match. Theo had a deeply skeptical look on his face as he listened on, "No, you're always weird around Pansy and YN though, I thought..." then, like a lightbulb went off, Theo looked at you, to Mattheo and back again.

"Do you think Pansy's hot?" Malfoy continued.

"Bro, give it up" Blaise said finally, stepping to pull him back, "I think you're in the clear."

"I mean yeah she's hot, but she's not my type. FUCK!" Mattheo replied, rubbing a hand over his face at the admission.

"She's not, but YN is" Theo said finally.

Mattheo bit his bottom lip and stared at the floor, concentrating very hard on the tassels of the rug beneath his feet as he shook his head, a grimace on his face.

Your heart trilled in your chest, which was literally rising and falling in both panic and excitement. Mattheo was shaking his head no, but his whole body was fighting something, there was something he didn't want to say... about you.

"So, she's not your type? Not attractive to you at all?" Theo pushed.

Mattheo's face was turning a dark shade of red as pursed his lips closed and shook his head vehemently, refusing to meet anyone's eyes, his own nearly watering with the exertion of fighting the potion within him.

"Totally platonic? Didn't give a shit when Seamus Finnegan asked her out last term?"

Mattheo glanced at Theo, gathering himself, as he tried desperately to say the only truth he wanted to share. "He's a prick, no secret I didn't think it was a good idea—"

"—You never told me that" you said quietly, confused, and not a little bit angry. "But you avoided me for a few weeks after, I remember..." you said, trailing off as you stepped closer to him, and Mattheo's looked genuinely afraid, outstretching his hands to stop you from coming any closer.

"What don't you want to say?—"

"—I don't want you here right now!" he said loudly.

You physically reared back at the harshness of his words. You caught his eye, trying to communicate the way you often did with one another, to ask things that could only be said without words, but you got nothing in response.

"R-Right" you said, your voice wobbling as you turned to leave, thoroughly embarassed.

And the sound of it nearly broke Mattheo's heart.

"Wait, wait, I didn't meant it like that, I don't want you to be upset, please don't be upset" he said, moving to reach for your hand urgently, the unmasked care and compassion in his voice making you turn and making Draco and Blaise bat at each other's arms in excitement like school girls at the scene unfolding in front of them.

"I don't want you to hear my truth" Mattheo said quietly, and just like that it was just the two of you, you who knew more than any of these idiots, you knew about Blaise's scarf (you had told him not to sell it), about him cheating in potions and paying off McLaggen, but even you didn't know his most deeply held secret and this isn't how he wanted it to come out.

"Please" he begged, in way none of his friends had ever heard him speak before.

"I just... I thought I knew all of your truths?" you said vulnerably, your chin wobbling, saddened at the idea that there was a part of him you didn't know.

"You don't. I'm sorry" he said simply.

"But they get to hear them?" you said, gesturing towards your friends.

"No, they don't know them either."

"What would be so bad that you wouldn't want anyone in your life to know, Matty?"

He bit his tongue as he tilted his head. "It isn't bad. I didn't say it was bad" he said.

You could tell he was playing with you, selectively choosing his words. Your curiosity piqued as you turned to face him fully with your arms crossed.

"What don't you want us to know?" you asked.

"How I — FUCK — feel — mmhmm" he tried to physically shove the words back into his mouth, clapping his hands over his mouth again as his body betrayed him.

Theo stepped forward, trying to pry his hands back. "Say it!" he said.

Mattheo tried to wiggle out of his grasp, the two of them thrashing back and forth.

"C'mon mate, time to earn those galleons! Cough it up! How you feel about what?" and Theo yanked Mattheo's hands away from his mouth just long enough for Mattheo to all but shout:

"HER!" he said, loudly, pointing to you. "About YN. I — FUCK — fucking love her."

You could have heard an owl feather hit the floor.

"Oh shit" Malfoy whispered.

Theo took a step back as he realized the enormity of what he'd just done. He'd thought Mattheo had a little crush on you, I mean, didn't they all? He thought it was just a bit of fun. But love? He'd know Mattheo for 7 years and he never so much as heard him say the word, let alone direct it at another person, in fact he knew just how much the concept had been beaten out of him as a child.

"Mate, I'm—" he started.

Mattheo glared at him in way that reminded you for a moment about the family he came from, and it was the first time you'd ever seen Theo genuinely afraid as the smile dropped from his lips and he took an unconscious step back.

"Fuck you" Mattheo said, stepping towards him, the measured control in his voice somehow more frightening than the alternative. "You always take shit too far, you know that? That's why—"

"—Matty?" you said, your quiet whisper and the questions that lingered behind it tugging at his heart and pulling his attention back to you.

He met your eyes and the fury he felt at Theo dissolved in an instant, like it had apparated from the room, because the way you were looking at him was an expression he'd only seen in his dreams. You didn't look angry or confused, you weren't laughing or embarrassed, the sparkle in your eye was back and a soft smile rested on your lips, your eyes were blown wide, hopeful even, with a hint of something else underneath that had a sensation like melted honey spreading throughout his entire body.

"Can we maybe talk... outside...?" you asked.

"Yes, for the love of the gods" he said, walking quickly to your side, letting his hand rest gently at your back, the intimate gesture not lost on anybody as your friends wolf-whistled and snickered and he flipped them the finger over his head.

Now that the truth was out, there was nothing stopping the words that flew out of Mattheo's mouth as you led him to a nearby secluded corridor.

"I really want to talk to you about this" he said, the moment you were outside of the dormitory, "I am so embarrassed that it came out that way, that's not at all how I wanted to tell you, well, I didn't want to tell you at all, I was terrified actually. I've liked you for a long time, really since the first day we met, do you remember? On the train? You were wearing that blue jumper, you smelled like cinnamon and vanilla... You always smell so fucking good—"

You laughed as you pulled him with greater urgency by the hand away from prying eyes as he continued to ramble on, the truth serum creating a veritable waterfall of words out of his mouth.

"—You're so fucking beautiful, I love your hair, your eyes, your smile, your nose... that sounds weird, but it's true, it's so fucking cute—"

"—Mattheo" you said, as you stopped, placing your hands on his chest and pressing him gently against the stone wall to get him to slow down. "Breathe."

He shook his head.

"No, it's out now, and I don't know how long this shit lasts and if I don't say this stuff now, I'm not sure I'll ever have the balls to say it to your face, I've held onto this for 7 years YN."

Your lips curled into a small pout at how sweet he was being, at the idea that your best friend had been pining for you since you were 11 years old.

"I love you" he continued breathlessly, "and not like a little bit. Like, a lot. I don't know..." he said, carding his hand through his brown curls, "I've never felt this way about anyone, anything. I'm all consumed with you. You're the only thing I think about, the only girl I want, I'd do anything for you. And I'm sorry if this is going to totally wreck our friendship, if you want things to stay the way they are, I will try my level best—"

But his words were cut short as you pressed your lips to his, capturing his truth, letting it wash over you, every word you had been desperate to hear, every thought you'd shared the same. It surprised him for only a second before his hands grasped your face and he pulled you further into him.

"You're fucking perfect" he whispered after a moment, his eyes dancing over your features.

"Remind me again why I didn't give you veritaserum like years ago?" you said, smiling against his lips.

"It's a felony?" he said, laughing.

"...Right" you said, laughing back.

You were only gone a few minutes, but as you scurried back to the dormitory you tried to fix your hair, and wipe the lipgloss off of Mattheo's face as he smiled down at you with puppy dog eyes.

"They're going to lose their mind" you said quietly just outside the door, "let's just play it cool, alright?"

And before he could respond that there was no way on earth he could possibly do that, you pushed the door open and all conversation stopped.

"...Alright?" Theo asked, turning to face you both, nervous at the potential mess he may have caused.

"Fine, we were just talking—"

"—She macked me!!" Mattheo shouted truthfully with a huge grin on his face as he wrapped his arm around you.

You gasped and swatted at him playfully, your cheeks blushing a rosy pink as your friends erupted into cheers, hoot and hollers, descending on you both as Mattheo looked down at you, glowing, happier than you could ever remember seeing him.

taglist: @girllblogging777, @iamdnb, @bookworm124, @zatannasrealgf, @r-a-c-h-e-l

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys

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steddieonbigboy · 6 months ago

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Stuff and Things

written for @steddiemicrofic june prompt 'stuff' wc: 483 | rated: G | cw: none | read on ao3

🦝🦝🦝

It's an enlightening phone call from Wayne that makes Steve drive over to the trailer park to see Eddie. It's not uncommon with their work schedules that they can go a few days without hearing from each other, so Steve didn't think anything of it until Wayne called.

It takes almost five minutes from his knock for Eddie to answer the door looking frazzled and breathing heavily.

“Stevie?”

“Hey, baby! I’ve not seen you in a couple of days, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, all good,” Eddie's eyes dart shiftily to his bedroom door and back, “Sorry, I've been kinda busy with stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“A-and things!”

“Oh yeah? What kind of stuff and things?”

“You know just, uh, the normal kind of, um, stuff.”

“And things?”

“Yup, that too!”

“Uh-huh.”

Steve just raises an eyebrow, hands on his hips, and watches as Eddie visibly wilts and sighs.

“Did Wayne rat me out?”

“He said you were acting the same kinda shifty as when you snuck a flea-ridden kitten into your closet as a kid, and now it's my turn.”

“Goddammit. Can't get anything past that old man.”

“Well, duh, you're the least subtle person I've ever met.”

“Hey!”

“You can't be mad if it's true, dude.”

“Fucking yes, I can!” Eddie huffs then waves Steve in, “Anyway, since you know now you might as well come meet, uh, stuff and things.”

Nothing stands out as weird to Steve when he glances around Eddie's room. He's about to think Wayne was wrong, when all of a sudden a tiny black snuffling nose pokes out of the pile of blankets on the bed, quickly followed by a second. Eddie hurries over to them as they start to chirp and gently strokes a thumb around each of their masked eyes.

“It's okay, my babies! I'm back, don't cry!”

“Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“Are they fucking raccoons?”

“Yeah!” Eddie grins, and scoops one of the little pups up, “Wanna hold him?”

“Uh...”

“So, this lil guy is called Stuff,” Eddie rocks the raccoon in his arms and nods to the other, still tangled up in blankets, “And that's his brother, Things.”

Things chirps and reaches grabby little hands out at Steve.

“See!” Eddie laughs, “He wants you to pick him up!”

Steve has never held a baby raccoon before but it turns out it's not too different from holding a human baby, if a little furrier.

“Hang on a minute,” Eddie frowns suddenly, “What did you mean before when you said it's your turn?”

“Oh, Wayne said he's had long enough to 'deal with your stupid' so he deserves a break, and this is what I get for dating someone who 'ain't got the sense God gave a goose.'”

“Fuckin' rude.”

“You're literally hiding baby raccoons in your bedroom, Eds.”

“But look how cute they are!”

“Yeah, they're cute but they better not have fucking rabies, Robin will kill you.”

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddie fic #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficjune #bigboywrites #mine

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stellewriites · 10 days ago

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wip wednesday

have another snippet of ‘by the edge of the sun’, my butch simon fic :3

“don’t you dare unmatch them,” ash warned teasingly, pointing their finger at you with squinted eyes. “go on a few dates and be spoiled for once. if nothing else, you get a good meal and some fresh air.”

you laughed as you finally reached your flat and unlocked your door. you dropped your coat on the back of a dining chair before slumping on the sofa with ash joining a second after, sans their boots and coat.

“fine, fine. i’m on the app for a reason, right? i might as well give them a chance,” you agreed a little reluctantly.

“give who a chance?” simon asked as he came from the back of the flat, passing through to the kitchen.

“my lovely bestie is finally on tinder,” ash said with a sharp grin aimed at simon. “hoping to find someone to fuck out the last six months of—“

“yeah thanks, ash! feel free to shut the fuck up, i don’t think simon cares about the details of my sex life,” you interrupted, cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“no?” ash asked playing dumb. they pouted and turned back to simon. “my bad.”

you hadn’t noticed simon had grown reserved and quiet at ash’s outburst, too busy trying to save face and distract yourself with thinking of a decent opening message to your matches.

“and anyway, i’m just going a few dates first,” you corrected and looked at simon. “so don’t worry about me inviting anyone around to the flat or anything.”

simon nodded tersely before swallowing.

“s’fine.” he looked shiftily over to the kitchen before moving to lean over the back of your seat, arms resting behind your head as he peered over your shoulder. “show me,” he ordered softly.

you shivered at the feel of his breath on your neck as he spoke and immediately opened the app again.

working away at this atm, should be out by christmas!!

#wip wednesday #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #butch simon riley #fem simon riley

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loulou-land · 11 days ago

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A very tiny tidbit of the Christmas mistletoe bucktommy fic I’m currently working on. Might still change cuz I’ve been rewriting and editing it a lot and I still haven’t even finished the fic. It’s going to be a short one tho. I’m just really slow and the perfectionist in me is really coming out…😅

- 🎄

“They’re killing me,” Hen muttered from her spot by the fireplace.

“Excruciating,” Chimney agreed, reaching to steal a cookie off the dessert tray atop the coffee table. “Did you see that? Tommy glanced over at Buck four times in the last minute. And Buck’s looked back twice.”

Hen snorted, giving him an incredulous look. “You’re counting their glances?”

Chimney shrugged. “What? I’m a details guy. Also, it’s driving me crazy.”

Hen raised her eyebrow. “You’re the one who absolutely insisted Tommy needed to be invited. How’d you get Bobby to do it anyways?”

“I have my ways,” he said, looking around shiftily. “And, I thought it’d help!” Chimney said defensively. “You know, finally getting them together in one place, no emergencies or other duties as an excuse. I thought they'd finally get to talking.” He shrugs, “Maybe spark some reconciliation. Come on! They belong together.”

“Mhm. And how’s that working out for you?”

Chimney groaned, rubbing his face. “It’s like watching the world’s most bizarre mating dance, they keep fluffing their feathers at each other and then running in the opposite direction”

#my fic #wip #bucktommy #mistle-nope fic #tommy kinard #evan buckley #911 abc #christmas fic #matchmaker chimney #lol #wow #i like writing dialogue so much more than descriptions

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heavenlyraindrops · 1 month ago

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The Devil Made Me Do It | Arcane | Silco x Reader | Chapter Twelve

available on AO3 and Quotev | visit the first tag for other chapters | warnings: brief mention of alcohol, smoking, profanity

summary:

In the midst of an unfortunate run-in with the enforcers, you meet the young revolutionary Silco, and by extension, his friends Vander and Felicia. Growing close friends, you get through life in the undercity together, determined to make Zaun a better place. Until tragedy strikes, and betrayal and carelessness stabs hard enough to turn you bitter. Years later as time solidifies the scars, Silco proves to be a thorn in your side. You, in his. Hatred festers. And your world cracks further open.

Chapter Twelve:

You turned up the dark collar of your coat to shield you from the cold winds of the undercity as you and a gaggle of people briskly walked towards the Last Drop. The rain pattered onto the ground, small droplets rippling through the puddles, distorting your own reflection.

You reached the door of the bar, and for a moment you could almost see your younger self standing in that very spot.

You pulled your coat tighter around yourself, shivering lightly, and fumbled with the lighter- it wouldn’t work, despite your clicking. The door creaked but you paid it no mind.

“Struggling?”

You turned to see Silco looking at you, hand outstretched.

You pushed the thoughts away before the nausea could get the best of you and make you throw up all over your henchmen.

The windows were flashing with light and you could hear the bustle of the night crowd from inside the building. Water rolled off of the sign and down the pipes as you looked at your men, placing a firm hand on the doorknob- then pushed the door open, stepping into the heart of the beast.

You straightened your back, going straight to the counter like it was muscle memory. You flicked your head at the bartender. “Give me something not too strong,” you said. “To calm my nerves.”

At your cold expression he nodded hastily and scrambled to get your drink ready. A presence loomed over your shoulder; you didn’t even bother to turn your head.

“Sevika,” you said smoothly. The woman put a large hand on your shoulder.

“The back,” she said flatly.

You stood up, and caught your men’s eye from across the bar. They all sauntered towards you, eyeing up Sevika. You jammed your hands in the pockets of your coat and nodded at them.

She flicked her head at you, then turned, her cloak swishing about her. You planted your feet firmly on the ground, having to raise your voice over the din.

“Where exactly are we going?” You almost-yelled. She turned.

“There’s an office at the back.”

You froze. She raised a dark eyebrow. “Not Silco’s,” she clarified, and you relaxed, shoving past her.

“I don’t care if it’s his or not,” you sneered. She crossed her arms.

“You sure about that?”

“One hundred percent,” you said coldly. She laughed.

“We’ll see about that.”

Now it was her turn to shove past you. You stared after her.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

You turned and looked at your men, jerking your head in Sevika’s direction. And then you followed her through the door.

By the time the bartender set down your drink onto the counter you were already gone.

The office was gloomy, to say the least. And dark. A desk at the top, with a large window. A sofa on one side, a table on the other. Sevika flopped down on the sofa, and you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

The chair at the front desk was turned around, so you could only see the back of it. Sevika looked at you. There were about three other men in the corner- Silco’s, no doubt. You sniffed disdainfully. Your own employees- the three guilty ones- were exchanging uneasy looks, glancing around shiftily.

The office smelled of tobacco, and you noticed an ashtray on the desk. No sign of the man himself. You relaxed a little. Scowling, you went to stand in front of Sevika.

“I’ll sit there,” you said. “You drag a chair over here.” And to mark the spot you tapped your foot.

She stared at you disbelievingly but did as you said. You leaned back, slinging an arm around the back of the couch. You needed a cigarette, you thought, and pulled one out, putting it in between your teeth. You turned your head back to look expectantly at one of your men.

He fumbled with the light before holding it beneath your roll-up. As it snapped shut you pulled the cigarette from your lips, blowing out a slow curl of smoke. You then nodded at him.

He and his friend stepped forward, grabbing the three men by the shoulders. One list and they were forced to their knees. Cries of protest arose.

“Madam-“

“-what are you-“

Silco’s men stepped forward to help but you flashed them a glare so terrifying they stepped back. You moved your eyes back to Sevika and addressed your own men.

“Fight back, and you’ll regret it,” you said lazily, eyes fixed on the woman sat in front of you. You jerked your head at Silco’s men. “I want them out.”

“But the trade-“

“It won’t be necessary.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she didn’t say anything- simply turned to the men and nodded. They filed out obediently. She turned back to you.

“Now get on with it,” you said, lips twitching with distaste. Sevika scowled, intertwining her fingers.

“You said you take in innocent people who need a fresh start, [name],” she said steadily. Then tilted her head. “Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.”

“Stop speaking so eloquently.” You took a drag of your cigarette. “It doesn’t suit you. Hurry up and get to the point.”

Sevika sat back, scowling, and then jabbed a finger in the general direction where your three men stood. The other two stepped away from them, to stand at your left. You frowned, cigarette dangling from your lips as you twisted around to take the papers one of your men were offering you.

The men in the corner exchanged looks, panic slowly rising. You flicked through the papers, humming. Called out a name.

“You. You said you were running from a gang that was targeting you despite your innocence.” You scrutinised the sheet, then looked up to Sevika for conformation. She rolled her eyes.

“He blew up one of our cargo ships,” she said flatly. You moved onto the next guy.

“Needed a fresh start,” you said simply.

“Stole in bulk from a shimmer factory,” Sevika said. You sniffed distastefully, and she added: “While he was with you.”

You nodded silently, moving to the last paper. “And you… you said you were saving money to pay for your sister's illness treatment but couldn’t afford rent at the same time.”

Sevika shrugged. “Cargo. Explosion. He was involved.”

The first guy, a rather scrawny looking fellow, looked at you with panic. “Madam, you won’t- what are you-“ he looked at Sevika in panic. You raised a finger to your lips, eyes glittering dangerously, and he pressed his own together, eyes wide with fear.

Sevika rolled one of her shoulders back, eyes closing as her muscles stretched deliciously. “One would think you’d keep better tabs on your employees.” She looked down at you, a clear disdain in her eyes.

You raised an eyebrow as she continued. “You just take in anyone these days? What if they take advantage of you?” She jerked her head at the men. “Like these idiots?”

“Most of the people coming to me are women and children,” you said, struggling to keep your voice at a reasonable level. “And you think I just take them in for free? They pay rent and they work.”

“You need to look into people before you take them in,” she stressed. “And you definitely need to watch what they’re doing while under your employ.”

You took a long drag of your cigarette, watching her unflinchingly. She shifted uncomfortably under your scrutiny.

“What they do outside of work is none of my business,” you said boredly.

“It comes back around to you.”

“I’ll make sure it stays their problem.” You looked at the three men and smiled sweetly. They gulped.

“Some people won’t let it be just their problem,” Sevika protested. You raised a hand, stopping her mid-lecture, and tilted your head.

“Why do you care?” Your face was perpetually unimpressed as you watched her lean back and cross her arms. “What happens to me isn’t any of your problem.”

Sevika sighed slowly. “Right, well… I suggest looking into the credibility of your employees’ stories regardless.”

“Like I said. Big words don’t suit you.” You smirked, inhaling the smoke of your fag and blowing it out slowly. “Go back to talking like an idiot.” Sevika bristled.

“[name].”

Suddenly, you scoffed. Stubbing the cigarette out on the armrest, the fabric sizzling, you tossed the papers to the floor. A good number of people flinched.

“What makes you think I don’t look into them?” You hissed, voice dripping with venom. “What makes you think I didn’t know? You’re stupid if you think I wouldn’t take the chance to take in your adversaries. The fact that a couple of scrawny, chicken-legged boys could blow up one of your shipments is already sad enough.” You took a shaky drag of your cigarette, your leg bouncing up and down agitatedly. “And now you’re scrabbling at my feet for me to hand them over? Pathetic.” The last word was like a bullet.

With the storm brewing in her expression you expected her to stand up and lunge at you. But then she seemed to catch something in her vision, and froze. The entire room fell silent.

Clapping.

“Bravo.” The voice was smooth, steady. Cold. A shiver ran down your spine. “That was quite the speech.”

You turned to look at the desk. The high-backed chair turned slowly.

The first thing that met your gaze was the sea-blue you’d grown so accustomed to staring at in your past. And then the chair turned fully.

You stared straight into Silco’s mismatched eyes, horrified.

Furious.

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applecherryandpears · 3 months ago

Text

Noel on Sara in 2003:

'I have got a girlfriend at the moment.' Will he say who? 'Nope. Nope. It's one of those things... It's just when it's in the papers for other people to see, it demeans it. She's fantastic, she's gorgeous, she's the funniest person I know, but it's not for public consumption. She's mine, she belongs to me.'

Idk but to me he seems to have done some major transfer from his relationship with Liam to Sara around the time they fell apart in early 00. It's literally how he used to talk about Liam, he wanted to hurt him (back I know) so bad. Or maybe « teach him a lesson » as he puts it.

In the same interview the journalist view on Noel btw :

"Poor Noel. There he is, joined at the hip in sibling rivalry-cum-dependence-cum-love, struggling with demons he'd rather not confront, and unable to write words to the 20-odd melodies and arrangements he's got ready. He can't write because he won't write for himself - he wants to write for Oasis, and Oasis, for him, means writing for Liam. He wants to write as he did when he was young and 'desperate' and the only way out of Manchester was rock 'n' roll stardom. But he's got that now, and a daughter he adores, and a house in the country, and he is, in truth, in early middle-age."

And Noel who implied he stopped writing from the heart during this period :

A song written by Liam - 'Songbird', a simple, affecting, nursery-rhyme-like love song. It is, you sense, from the heart - a part of the body Noel doesn't, in his song-writing, much visit these days. 'I don't', he says, a little shiftily, 'like to write achingly personal songs.'

As if!

And they were good songs - like "Live Forever", "Slide Away", "Rock 'n' Roll Star". And at that point I was really livin' it - you know, we were in the back of a transit van, goin' up and down motorways, and we were being a proper, working band. And I think that's probably why people hold that album up as the one - and probably why I do - because I meant every word I was writing. I did want to live forever, and I did want to be a rock 'n' roll star. All those lyrics are fantastic because they're honest. Whereas now it's like private jets, good hotels, nice restaurants, da da da. You become more insulated so you make stuff up, and it becomes more abstract. Less personal.'

Like, he conveniently completely eclipses he meant every word of Slide Away.

And Liam stopped singing Wonderwall it seems:

There have, notoriously, been numerous Oasis implosions since, and Noel has walked out while on tour more than once. 'Yes, well, technically we've broken up quite a lot, but it's never felt like that. Because the band's too important to me - it's what I do. At 35, now, to leave Oasis would be like getting a new girlfriend - it's like I couldn't be arsed, dating. Another band - rehearsals would be like going out for dinner, getting to know people. I can't be bothered to do that. Because the best gig in the world is being me, in Oasis. Because you get to do backing vocals and you get to give a bit of lip between the songs [in Brighton, for instance, in December, wishing that some of the audience die of hypothermia], and I get to sing the two biggest songs of the night, 'Don't Look Back in Anger' and 'Wonderwall'. So I think I'll stick with what I know, thank you very much.'

Liam on Noel a month later: "We're not mates. We just don't feel like it. We get on better when we don't see each other and don't speak to each other so let's not be mates!"

#2003 #the Noel beard year #apparently the he’s my b year #the I’ll sing songbird for 100e year #boy was angry

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leviathans-watching · 2 years ago

Note

could u pls write the brothers x a reader who dropped out of school/college? having a rly hard time rn and i could use the comfort, tysm <3

having a hard time in the human realm

includes: brothers x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .7k | rated t | m.list

warnings: crying, breakdowns, implied depression

a/n: i'm sorry you're having a hard time :(( i wish you all the best and lots of love and comfort. hope this helps! my inbox is open to chat, request, or leave feedback!

mammon exchanges worried looks with asmo when there’s no response when he knocks on the door to your apartment. it had been nearly three months since you’d returned to the human realm and since you’d first separated, you hadn’t missed a single weekly call. until tonight, that is.

and combine that with the fact that you weren’t responding to anyone, weren’t active on any social media, and now weren’t answering your door… mammon’s getting seriously concerned.

“let’s break in,” belphie says, and it’s a testament to how worried lucifer is that he agrees.

“i can pick locks, hold on,” asmo says, dropping to his knees and pulling a bobby pin out of his pocket. man, lucifer must be really worried if he’s not even remarking on this!

a moment passes, and then asmo pushes the door open, rising back to his feet. he leads the way into your apartment, and mammon takes in the dark interior. it’s messy and cluttered, a far cry from the neat and tidy room you’d kept at the house of lamentation, and it’s also silent.

lucifer takes the helm then, moving through your living room. mammon can see a dim kitchen with piled-up dishes, and then gets distracted by another door. presumably the door to your room.

mammon knocks on that one, then opens it. like the rest of the apartment, the room is dark, with thick curtains pulled over the window. mammon steps over the clothes all over the floor, towards your bed, which is messy with sheets and blankets piled up.

but thankfully, there’s a person there too. mammon puts a hand on your shoulder, grateful he can see the rise and fall of your chest. so, at least you’re still alive?

shaking you gently, mammon waits for you to wake. his brothers crowd the bed around him, but stay quiet.

with a gasp, you sit up, looking around wildly. “w-what?”

“it’s just us, mc,” beel says soothingly, and you calm slightly, then squint, confused.

“what are you doing here?”

“we were worried,” levi volunteers. “you weren’t answering your ddd and missed dour call.”

“oh,” you say slowly, probably still waking up. “that was today? i’m sorry, i’ve just been really…busy. and wait, you guys decided to break into my apartment?”

“busy?” says lucifer, dodging the accusation question. “with school?”

you look to the side shiftily, and mammon’s glad his eyes can see well enough in the dark where a human would struggle. “something like that.”

“cut the crap,” asmo says suddenly. “what’s going on, mc?”

without warning, tears well up in your eyes. “i’m sorry,” you say miserably, scrubbing at your eyes with your sleeve. “i’m sorry. i’m just so tired.”

mammon wraps an arm around your shoulders (were they always this fragile feeling?), and pulls you to his chest. “what’s wrong?”

“it’s just so hard!” you say after a breath. “i miss you guys so much. every day. it feels like a piece of me is missing. and as hard as it was to adjust to the devildom it’s even harder re-adjusting now. i miss the house of lamentation and being at rad and all of you. i can’t do this.”

“i had no idea you were feeling this way,” lucifer says quietly, guiltily. mammon feels the same way. how had he not noticed you were hurting?

“i stopped going to my classes,” you continue, a sob ripping free. “there’s no way i can get any credits for this semester. i want to go home.”

mammon locks eyes with his brothers. there’s no way they’re leaving you here tonight.

“let’s take you home, then,” he says, and you blink up at him.

“wait, really?”

“there’s no rule saying you can’t come back,” lucifer says. “i thought that’s what you wanted. after all, you were only supposed to be an exchange student after all. but if we had had any idea of how much this would have hurt you, diavolo and i would have never let you leave. so yes, let’s go home.”

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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tickletastic · 1 month ago

Text

Drink or Dare

Fandom: The Inheritance Games

Ship: N/A

Summary: Takes place during the game of Drink or Dare played in the treehouse in The Brothers Hawthorne. My take on how they managed to get a smiley face on Grayson's tummy during the game.

“No,” Grayson grits through clenched teeth, but his brothers can see the glint in his eyes, he's nervous. “Absolutely not.”

Drink or Dare had always been a bit embarrassing, a bit vulnerable and silly. It’s an even playing ground for the Hawthorne boys, a way for them to get some semblance of real vulnerability from each other. So far, the dares hadn’t been too bad, at least not on Grayson’s end, but he figured his brothers were working their way up, there’s no way they’d go easy on him the entire time.

After Xander was made to create a Rube Goldberg machine just to slap his own ass, and Nash chose to eat a piece of his cowboy hat instead of drinking the toxic slurry the brothers had made as the alternative option, Grayson figured the embarrassment and silliness would soon target him. His brothers were here to take his mind off of things after all, and Hawthornes have always been partial to believing that embarrassment could be a great distractor.

“You know the game, little brother,” Nash says in his smooth, Texan timbre. How he’s the only Hawthorne brother with the signature Southern drawl is beyond Grayson, but the authority in his voice still sends a shiver down his spine, and the way his laid back demeanor lends itself to teasing his brothers.

“This is juvenile,” Grayson shirks, avoiding eye contact with all of his brothers, glancing shiftily around the treehouse.

“I’d expect nothing more from a Hawthorne Drink or Dare,” Jameson remarks, signature lazy smirk on his face. He keeps capping and uncapping the Sharpie, the click-click-click working up Grayson’s nerves.

“Okay Mr. Broody McBrooderson, we’ve known that you’re crazy ticklish since, like, birth, basically. So why don’t you just let us draw you a new face? That, or my newest Hawthorne patented concoction is all yours to savour.” Xander buzzes, reaching out to poke Grayson in the side, to which he recoils so violently that he practically ends up in Nash’s lap. Nash offers Grayson no favours, and he digs into his younger brother’s ribs with two clawed hands.

“Nash! No! Nahahash, stop it!” Grayson yells, trying to keep his normal edge of authority in his voice, his cool demeanor cracks with every knowing wiggle to his sensitive ribs. He starts to squirm away, nearly a mess already from Nash’s short row, and Xander, adding his teasing fingers to the mix, gets him begging embarrassingly quick. “Fuhuck! Okay! Ohohokay!”

“Begging for mercy already, little brother?” Nash teases, withdrawing his fingers from Grayson’s ribs and ruffling his brother's hair. Grayson huffs out of his nose and shakes his head out of Nash’s grip, batting away Xander’s lingering fingers.

“What will it be, Gray?” Jameson asks, grinning from across their makeshift circle.

Grayson glares in Jameson’s direction, and sneaks a look at the grotesque mixture he can choose to drink as an alternative to his brothers’ silly dare. The “liquid” is a strange, mildewy colour, a terrible concoction of ketchup, A1 sauce, hot sauce, milk, and lemonade. It bubbles and curdles at the top, unendingly since Xander added the final ingredients to it more than an hour prior, and it’s enough to convince Grayson that maybe, just maybe, the dare would be more bearable.

“Fine, but this is still a childish dare,” Grayson gripes while he begins unbuttoning his silky white dress shirt, revealing the white tank top beneath it. He grimaces at the feeling of cold air over his torso as he strips the tank top too.

“Lay down,” Jameson demands, smirking at his brother, reaching out to grab the Sharpie he had placed on the floor. He’s on his knees quick, approaching the other side of the circle to kneel above Grayson.

“Am I gonna have to hold ya down, Gray?” Nash asks, looming over Grayson with a far too pleased look on his face.

“I’m not five, Nash, I can stay still for a stupid dare.”

“Something tells me that you’re going to regret that attitude,” Nash teases, kneeling at his brother’s side in case Jameson needs some help finishing the job.

“Alright, Gray,” Xander starts with a smile, a face of pure glee at the possibility of seeing his brother laugh for once, “this might tickle.”

Jameson uncaps the Sharpie, and brings it down slowly to Grayson’s skin, the anticipation making his older brother squirm. When the tip finally touches down on Grayson’s belly, he gasps, and curls completely into a ball, pushing the Sharpie away.

“Grayson, bud, I know you can do better than that sorry excuse for staying still.”

Grayson blushes bright red, and he hates that the embarrassment of it makes him blush even more. Its mortifying. He brings his hands up to cover his face, groaning in a rare display of vocal frustration.

Jameson takes this as the opportunity that it is and brings the marker down again to work on the eye of the smiley face he’s drawing.

Grayson screeches, hands thrown down to protect him from the tickly, wet ink of the permanent marker, and Jameson levels him with a bored look. The reversed roles, Grayson acting out and Jameson responding with a bored indignation, flusters Grayson even more. He’s trying to get ahold of his expressions again when Nash grabs both of Grayson’s wrists in one of his hands, hauling them above his head.

“I warned ya, Gray,” Nash teases, nodding at Jameson to continue.

Jameson tries to finish the first straight line he had started for the smiley face’s eye, dragging the Sharpie from under Grayson’s pec to the bottom of his ribs, but his older brother’s squirming, and the huffy, aborted giggles he’s letting out, distract from the attempted masterpiece. Grayson even starts bringing his legs up in an attempt to block his brother from continuing.

“Xan, some help, please?” Jameson asks with a mischievous wink. Xander nods like an excited puppy before climbing on top of their brother’s legs, effectively pinning him so Jameson can have unrestricted access.

“Wait! I’ll drink,” Grayson tries to reason, while Xander makes finger wiggling motions in his direction, making him dizzy with restrained laughter and anticipation.

“No can do, Gray,” Jameson snorts, “you already chose your fate.”

“Them’s the rules!” Xander exclaims.

This time, when Jameson’s marker makes its inevitable descent, there’s nothing Grayson can do but accept the giggles that are pouring out of him, the thought of the tickly feeling making him giddy even before the marker can touch down. When it finally does, Grayson snorts, throwing his head back into Nash’s knees, a smile creeping up that threatens to split his face.

Jameson is able to finish the first eye this time, despite Grayson’s wigglyness, and he gets halfway through the second when Grayson squeals, the Sharpie hitting a sensitive spot on his ribs. Jameson, always the troublemaker, presses down with the marker, wiggling it around in the same spot, going over the first half of the second eye again and again.

“Ja-Jahahamie! Mercy, plehehease!” Grayson screeches, pulling desperately at his arms in hopes that Nash will show him some mercy. He’s been tickled absolutely silly by his brothers many times before, but something about this time is so flustering. Maybe it’s because it isn’t really supposed to tickle, or because he’s trained himself to be completely serious all of the time, or maybe even the stress with Gigi and Savannah. Whatever it is, it makes the Sharpie tickle a hundred times more.

“It’s a wonder you’re this ticklish and alive, Gray,” Nash teases, but he can’t help his own smile at his normally serious brother giggling himself silly.

Grayson’s blush sits high on his cheeks, creeping up his ears, but there’s nothing he can do but take the silly torture. His giggles are high-pitched and bubbly, forcing out a playfulness he hasn’t experienced in ages.

“JAMEHESON!” Grayson shouts, snorting through his laughter when Jameson begins to use the canvas of Grayson’s tummy as the location of the smiley face’s mouth. The repeated back and forth motion sends Grayson into a flurry of snorts and squeals, only egged on by Jameson deciding that the face should have a tongue exactly where Grayson’s belly button is.

While Jameson fills in the tongue he drew with the marker, Grayson screams so shrill and panicked that it shocks him into stopping. When Grayson keeps squealing and shrieking, tears of mirth in the corners of his eyes, Jameson grins down at him, lopsided. “Gray, I’m not even doing anything.”

“Oh,” Xander says, and Nash and Jameson both look his way, “that might be my bad.” Xander’s fingers are going to town on Grayson’s socked feet, and Grayson is laughing so hard that it’s coming out in wheezes, hiccuping for breath.

“Pl-p-puhuhlehehease! Cahahan’t! Gohohonna die!” Grayson begs, too weak to wiggle or pull for escape.

Just before Jameson can bring the marker back down to Grayson’s tummy, Nash’s voice, in his designated Big Brother Tone, cuts through the air, “alright, alright, kid’s had enough.”

Jameson snickers, and Xander makes a vaguely disappointed noise before backing off of Grayson. Once he’s free, he curls up into a ball, stray giggles and wheezes leaving him breathless still. Nash can’t help but reach out to ruffle his little brother’s hair again.

“Thahat was hehell,” Grayson sputters, but the smile on his face has yet to go away.

“Could’ve been worse,” Xander says, “it could’ve been a Rube Goldberg machine to slap your own ass.”

#the inheritance games #the brothers hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #ticklish!grayson #lee!grayson

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cuffmeinblack · 1 year ago

Text

Guilty pleasure

Garreth Weasley x f!reader

Tags: explicit | anal sex | pegging | cunnilingus

3k words

Summary: Garreth would never admit his obsession with anal play to anyone; especially not receiving. Behind closed doors, he has no qualms about indulging in his guilty pleasure.

A/n: For Weasley Wednesday's prompt: Kink! Garreth is an arse man through and through and you can't change my mind.

🔞 Bonus audio 👇 🔞

Garreth was a man obsessed. It was bordering on worship the way he dropped to the floor behind you, kneading your behind as if it were the most beautiful sight to behold. He told you as much over and over again. Not that you were complaining—to have a boyfriend so enamoured with your body that he would literally kneel for you was quite the ego boost. Not only did he admire your curves, he certainly knew how to pleasure you in all the right ways whilst he was back there.

Imagine your surprise when he’d positively squirmed away from your touch when you’d tried to return the favour—you’d told him in no uncertain terms that he was a hypocrite, and he'd relented, allowing you to experiment with all the ways he’d touched you. Any sort of indignation he’d shown soon melted away once you’d convinced him just how good it felt, and the thrill of being able to dominate Garreth was addictive. He was surprisingly prone to begging to get exactly what he craved, and you had no intention of giving it to him easily.

A few weeks after you’d started your experimentation, Garreth was practically giddy with excitement about what you'd planned that evening. He called it his guilty pleasure and had sworn you to secrecy, insisting that gaining any pleasure from penetration made him some sort of sexual deviant. A smile formed on your mouth as you thought about what you'd be doing later, paying absolutely no attention to the History of Magic class you were currently occupying.

Garreth sat next to you, apparently having the same problem as he tapped his wand on the table and stared lazily off into the distance, only emerging from his stupor with a sharp inhale when you placed a hand on his thigh. The bulge in his trousers was hard to miss as your fingers glided over the fabric, and you smirked at him knowingly as he blushed furiously under your gaze.

This would be fun. Garreth enjoyed teasing you and getting you wound up; now it was your turn to play.

"Looking forward to later, are we?" you whispered next to his ear.

The usually chatty Gryffindor appeared to be speechless, likely because of your continued pawing at his stiffening length. Thank Merlin you were nestled safely at the back of the classroom, away from prying eyes—most of the class were asleep, anyway. Garreth just nodded, his green eyes drifting lazily over your face and landing on your lips with a subconscious flick of his tongue over his.

“What do you want me to do later?” you asked.

“I…I can’t say that here,” he hissed.

“I suppose you won’t be getting anything from me, then,” you replied under your breath, removing your hand from his lap and trying to hide the smirk pulling at your lips.

Garreth let out a tiny whine as his eyebrows peaked in a plea, shiftily looking around the classroom. Binns was still droning on, and your classmates were still otherwise occupied, so he leaned in closely to your ear before he replied.

“I want you to, you know…play with my arse,” he said barely audibly, cringing at the admission.

You stifled a giggle, sliding your hand back onto his thigh and turned your head, your lips grazing his cheek as you went to whisper in his ear. You let your warm breath slide down his neck, watching the visible shivers it elicited as you squeezed his erection through the cloth.

“I’ll do more than that, Gar. I’m going to fuck you so hard you can barely walk.”

If you could have captured his face in that moment, you would have framed the image and kept it by your bedside. Never had you seen him so wide-eyed and desperate—not all the times you teasingly played with his cock with your tongue before you took him in your mouth, nor when you sat in his lap and refused to move, until he ended up flipping you over and taking you hard for your disobedience.

No, you were in control this time; he was at your mercy whether or not you’d give him what he wanted.

"Are you going to be a good boy for me and do as I tell you later?" you asked, slowly squeezing his head with your thumb and forefinger.

"Fucking hell…"

"That wasn't an answer."

"Yes…yes, I'll be good…"

You smiled sweetly and bit your lip and he squirmed under your touch, only pulling your hand away at the abrupt end to the lesson. Garreth looked stunned next to you, face now flushing crimson and breathing stilted. Without a word, you threw your book into your bag and gave him a kiss on the cheek, winking as you walked out of the classroom and leaving him to deal with his problem alone.

You went about your day, attending your final lesson and Quidditch practice straight afterwards—you didn’t see Garreth until dinner, where he sat down next to you looking ever so slightly miffed. He looked terribly cute when he pouted, the way his eyebrows knitted together and his freckled nose wrinkled. With a kiss and a promise to make it up to him after your meal, he was appeased and dug into his food, finishing at record pace even for him. You took your time by comparison, making sure to have second helpings and making a show of slowly licking your dessert spoon as he watched you with increasing agitation.

Finally, when you were full, Garreth almost fell backwards at the speed in which he shot up off the bench before taking your hand to drag you out of the hall. Apparently he didn’t much care about the curious glances shot your way, likely incorrectly guessing what you were about to get up to. You were expecting him to head up to the Room of Requirement, but instead he pulled you towards Gryffindor tower.

“We’re doing this in your dormitory?”

“I want to be in my own bed,” he mumbled, coming to a stop at the portrait hole and speaking the password.

The common room was empty, with everyone still at dinner—Garreth bounded up the stairs two at a time as you ran to keep up with him, his enthusiasm catching as a wide grin spread across your face. His dormitory was cosy, and the bed so plush and quite big…encased in the heavy red fabric with the addition of a silencing charm, you could be ensured complete privacy.

Garreth wasted no time in shedding his clothes, pulling you by the waist to meet you lips in a feverish kiss as his fingers tangled in your hair. You hummed happily, slipping your tongue into his mouth in gentle exploration as you tore off your tie, your shirt and everything else whilst you stumbled onto the bed. You peeled off the final layers of Garreth’s uniform as he lay back on the sheets, watching intently whilst you worked. Merlin, he was gorgeous. You ran a hand down the thick, red hair that trailed down his chest and below his navel, brushing his stiffening cock on the way down, down, down…

“Lie back, legs up.”

Your voice had shifted, to one of easy compliance to inarguable authority. Garreth noticed the change in tone, his eyes widening slightly as he did as you’d asked—or told—him, leaning back with his head on his hands whilst he peered down at you. He was more shy about exposing himself, until you gave his ankles a nudge and he spread his legs, pushing his ankles back as far as they’d go.

“Going straight in, are you?” he asked with a nervous chuckle.

You gave him a smirk as you rummaged in the clothes pile for your wand, muttering the charm to coat your fingers in a warm lubricating liquid. His mossy eyes never left you as you slid your fingers between his cheeks, gently circling his entrance.

“Relax.”

Garreth hummed and let his head fall back, closing his eyes to enjoy the gentle caress. Sliding a finger inside, you focused on relaxing him with kisses and slow, gentle movements of your hand. The way he writhed, completely vulnerable, with just the teasing pressure of a finger pointed to a desperation you’d never seen before. The musky scent of his arousal filled your nostrils as you licked up his thigh, gently sucking the skin just the way he liked to mark you. You bit back the urge to bite him, those deliciously muscular thighs so tempting, but ultimately decided to focus on the gentle preparation—there was plenty of time, after all.

As you pushed another finger inside him, Garreth started to get handsy. His hand reached down and his fingers found your hair, so you glared up at him from between his legs.

“Hands to yourself,” you ordered, stilling your hand.

Garreth frowned down at you, his grip on your hair slackening but not relinquishing. He wasn't used to taking orders in the bedroom, and clearly needed a little reminder about who was in charge.

“Do you want me to carry on?” you asked, curling your fingers to give that sweet spot a teasing stroke.

His head fell back, breaking your eye contact. Oh yes, he liked that.

“Yes!” he gasped. “I’m sorry…please, don’t stop.”

That softly sighed please ignited a fire in your chest, spreading straight through your torso to your core; twisting and pulling with urgent need to make Garreth beg you for more. He already looked so vulnerable spread out before you, losing any inhibitions he’d held as soon as you’d started your fondling—this might be a guilty pleasure, but it was one he clearly had no issue indulging in.

Garreth's melodic moans filled the canopy bed as you teased and circled the soft pad inside him, slowly pumping your fingers and stretching him gradually. He was almost ready; slick and relaxed, but you weren't about to give him anything without asking.

His cock lay neglected on his abdomen, hard and thick and deliciously tempting. Keeping your rhythm, your other hand grasped his stiff length, your tongue running along the thick vein on the underside of his shaft until you reached his head, licking clean his salty precum with a soft moan intended for his pleasure.

"Fucking hell, I need you…"

With a smirk, you withdrew your mouth and your fingers with a wet squelch as Garreth groaned with displeasure, already missing your touch.

“On your front, darling."

Garreth whined at the term of endearment usually reserved for yourself, his glazed eyes watching you as he rolled onto his stomach and shoved a pillow under his hips ready. Kneading the flesh of his freckled arse, you delivered a hard smack before pulling your strap from the bedside table.

“Shit…," Garreth muttered, an octave higher than it should have been.

You pulled on the black leather contraption that strapped around your waist, kneeling over him as you buckled yourself in, working slowly and deliberately as you held his gaze. His eyes were focused on the lengthy glass protrusion prodding eagerly at his entrance that received a final lubrication charm before you started to push.

You'd prepared Garreth well, your artificial cock sliding into his slick hole with ease as you held his hips still. You eased in slowly, watching his reaction, which appeared to be one of pure bliss; his eyes unfocused and mouth hanging open. You started a steady pace, pulling out almost the entire way before plunging back in, massaging that sweet spot that had him making the sweetest noises.

"Can you take it harder?" you leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"Yes…harder…"

"Such a little slut," you chided.

He whined as you bestowed another hard smack to his arse before slamming into him harder.

"What are you?"

"A…slut," Garreth whimpered.

The sounds he made were utterly obscene; all muttered expletives, desperate pleas and gasping moans as you pounded him just as he did you.

"Y-yes…that's it…"

He’d lost the battle to keep his head up, collapsing onto the bed with his cheek pressed onto the mattress as you shunted him forward with every thrust into him. His eyes were unfocused, lips parted and pink; you even swore you saw a little drool pooling on the sheet below him. He was absolutely delirious with pleasure, every inch of skin flushed as your bodies burned in tandem.

The leather of the strap rubbed against your clit with every roll of your hips, giving you enough pleasure to take the edge off of your intense arousal, but nowhere near enough to satisfy you. Still, being on this end of Garreth was well worth the agonising throb between your legs. You scratched down his flushed back, leaving white rake marks that welted as he shuddered under your touch. The shake of his body wasn't just from the pain you inflicted—Garreth was already getting close to his release.

Gripping his hair, you yanked back hard to a gasping moan as you leaned forward to get his attention.

“Do you want me to let you come?” you purred.

Garreth appeared to have lost all ability to speak coherently as he let out a strangled ‘yeah’, whining with every thrust that sent shivers up your spine and intensified the throbbing ache of your neglected heat.

"Up on your knees."

He obeyed slowly, shakily, pushing back onto the cock with a groan as you shuffled to get comfortable before resuming your previous fierce pace. You fucked him hard and fast, nearly breathless as he sobbed into the bed sheets. You reached around to hold his weeping cock at the tip, gently without pressure as you focused on the rhythm of your hips, slowing ever so slightly…

"Ask nicely, darling."

"Please…please, don't stop…let me come."

Your walls fluttered around nothing with uncontained lust as he begged for his release. Your breath hitched and a tiny moan clawed its way out of your throat; the swell of love amongst the heady desire.

"Come on Gar, come for me..."

The cry of utter relief that spilled from his mouth was followed by a shudder—he came hard, gripping the sheets with white knuckles as he gasped for breath. His moans filled the canopied bed and you sighed with satisfaction as you felt his cum dribbling onto your fingers.

“Good boy,” you sighed, muttering more praises as you slowed your thrusts.

The trickle of cum into your hand ceased with the last of the pulsing waves of ecstasy and Garreth lay limp with his face down on the bed. You admired the obscenity of it all for a few moments until you pulled out of him, running your thumb over his gaping hole as he squirmed away and fell onto his stomach.

You let out a small chuckle and cast a quick cleaning charm on your hands, falling back onto the bed with a sigh. Shifting your hips against the strap, you searched for the friction you desperately needed as you regained your breath—the bed was stifling, with stale air and the scent of sweat and sex permeating the plush fabrics.

You’d barely regained your composure before a blur of copper swept across your vision; having been near comatose a few seconds earlier, he moved with surprising speed to straddle your thighs. His face was still beetroot red, glistening with sweat and beautiful, but instead of the fucked-out expression you’d witnessed as you’d railed him, a huge mischievous grin spread across his face.

“You didn’t think you’d get to tease me like that and get away with it, did you? It’s my turn now,” he said, already working to unfasten the buckles around your waist.

“I…I didn’t say you could…”

“Lie back and relax, darling.”

Garreth plunged two fingers into your sopping wet entrance with a devilish grin, his green eyes glittering at your shock. You had neither the strength or the inclination to stop what was about to unfold as he pumped his hand to the sounds of your breathless gasps. He was rough and quick, and it was just what you needed.

His head had dipped out of view, using his knees to pry your legs further apart so he could settle on the bed between them. He got to work marking up your thighs, returning the favour tenfold as the mottled red marks bloomed instantaneously on your arousal-coated skin. Still his fingers worked their magic, the blood rushing away from your head so fast your head pounded painfully.

Garreth’s warm mouth left your skin and a moment later his tongue was teasing your entrance, lapping up your juices as he moaned in delight. You returned the sounds, muttering his name over and over again as he travelled up to your swollen nub—the first swipe of his tongue was pure ecstasy, and the gentle suck he followed up with had you squirming and clamping your thighs around his head.

He didn’t mind in the slightest, burying his face against you so firmly you could scarcely believe he could breathe. You tugged his luscious copper hair, glad he wasn’t telling you off as you’d done to him; he was too focused on his mission, to have you falling apart and screaming his name at the earliest opportunity. It wouldn't be long until he succeeded—the ferocity in which he feasted on your cunt was impressive to say the least.

You locked onto his eyes as you approached your climax, giving him a pleading look to keep going as his tongue swirled and flicked and fingers curled inside you. You were so close, so close…until you were there, and you fell off the precipice into blissful oblivion.

“Garreth!”

It was a feral scream, your legs clamping tighter around his head as you came, whimpering as Garreth’s tongue continued to lap at your overly sensitive clit. The waves of pleasure kept coming, reducing your body to a writhing mess. As your orgasm ebbed away, you yanked his hair hard to remove his mouth with a pop, a satisfied smirk crossing his swollen, glistening lips.

“Fucking hell, Gar…”

“Simply returning the favour,” he chuckled, wiping your juices from his chin with the back of his forearm.

He flopped down next to you, pulling you into a kiss; the taste of yourself wasn’t distracting in the slightest, and you melted into his embrace. You thought the experiment had been a great success, and the permanent smile on Garreth’s face indicated he felt the same as he pawed greedily at your behind. He truly was a man obsessed.

#weasley wednesday #garreth weasley #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley smut #garreth weasley fanfiction

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akoyaxs · 1 year ago

Note

Can you do a fic abt Aonung and human reader? I was thinking that they start off rlly rocky cause you know how he acted around lo'ak and kiri because of their humanish features, and she thinks hes a skxawng and he thinks shes a freak?

and then 😏

I love jealous Aonung and protective Aonung so maybe he's spent all his time being cold to her and she's just gotten used to it but then something happens and he's suddenly always there?

thank you<3

Yes ofc! I'm so excited, this is my first request!!!!

Ask and you shall receive my darling- just give me a few days and I will publish it ♡, for now: enjoy the little synopsis and teaser of 『Tunutu』 ᵕ̈

A shout of laughter from outside brings you back to attention, and you set down the paste you had been mixing on a small table before quietly moving over to peek out. Just as you stick your small head out, you find yourself suddenly bumped backwards as several figures walk into the healing marui.

Folding your arms and frowning at the rowdy boys, you watch them as they comfortably space out around the marui. You recognise them instantly- the three skxawngs that Aonung always seemed to hang out with.

"Can I help you?" you ask, trying not to raise your brows when Koro laughs and shoves Nashvi forward to speak to you.

"Yeah," Nashvi grins stupidly. "Us and Aonung were out by the reef when an akula attacked, and we got a few injuries."

You can't help raising your brows at this. There are only several small scratches across the boys bodies, the worst only looking five inches long on Ongu's leg. But you have a job, and you aren't about to refuse to help Aonung's friends.

"Alright, sit down," you say tiredly, reaching up to lightly lead Nashvi to the woven mat you heal on.

As you turn to gather some more ointment, you can hear the three boys chuckling stupidly behind you, but when you turn, their smiles are quickly hidden and they don't make eye contact with each other.

Shrugging off your discomfort and annoyance, you lift up Nashvi's hair to apply the ointment to the scratches on his back.

They are not easy patients. They're whiny when you touch their miniscule, pointless little scratches, and they chuckle and grin shiftily at each other every time you move. It's an awkward interaction with each, and finally you can't take the silence anymore.

"What were you doing out by the reef?" you ask, in a desperate attempt to make conversation.

"Aonung wanted to hunt," Koro shrugs.

"Where is Aonung?"

They all grin again at your question, and you straighten up and frown.

"Missing your boyfriend are you?" Ongu leers.

You straighten up instantly, a frown fixed on your small face and your fist clenched slightly around the bowl.

"What are you talking about?" you say coolly, turning away from the boys under the pretence of collecting more herbs to add to the ointment.

"You're pining after him," Koro grins. "It's so obvious, all the little looks you shoot him, batting your eyelashes whenever he's around. You're so cool and all with other guys, but as soon as Aonung's around you're acting like a little lovestruck prolemuris."

"I do not," you say hotly, forgetting to act cool and hide the deep flush across your cheeks.

"Please," Nashvi scoffs. "You couldn't be more obvious if you tried."

Your face is growing hotter and hotter, and when you turn around, you find that the three boys have crept slightly closer, so now you're stuck between them.

"I don't have a crush on Aonung," you lie, knowing full well that you aren't convincing anyone. "I don't even like him."

"These little outfits say otherwise," Koro grins, reaching out to pinch your hip.

You jerk away from the contact, the bare skin of your hip between your top and low skirt burning slightly from his touch and the accusation of his words.

"Fuck off," you grumble, pushing at his hands as he reaches towards you again.

"What happened to the sweet little girl whenever he's around?"

"She's about to do worse than those little scratches if you don't stop touching me," you growl, hoping you sound braver than you feel.

Hot mortification is spreading through your body. Had you really been that obvious?

Koro, Ongu and Nashvi are just laughing stupidly, watching you grow more and more flustered as you try to figure out what to say, or at least how to get away.

"You are rude skxawngs," you snap. "I helped you out, now leave me alone."

"Why?" Nashvi grins. "We're just having a little fun with you, tawtute."

"Why do you wear such big clothes anyway?" Ongu leers. "I know they're getting smaller for Aonung, but if you want his attention you should just take it all off."

You growl as they reach for your clothes again.

"Tell Aonung that-"

"Tell me what?" a deep voice says from the entrance.

Immediately, all four of your gazes flick to see Aonung leaning against the entrance, a small frown pinching between his brows as he stares at his friends.

"That you need to find better friends," you huff, reaching to flatten your hair and pull your skirt down.

"She's just being grumpy," Koro laughs. "We were having a fun conversation with her."

"Yeah, it was real fun," you snap, flushing crimson as Aonung's gaze flicks back to you. "Especially when you kept touching me."

Aonung's frown deepens when you feel his gaze pass over the redness their pinches left over your hip, and you brush your hair out of your face.

"Okay, I fixed up your little scratches," you scowl to Koro, Ongu and Nashvi, as Aonung just stares dully at you. "You can fuck off now."

"Careful with your mouth," Nashvi grins. "You aren't as attractive when you aren't smiling, tawtute."

"Get out," you growl, straightening to your full height, but still shorter than their crouched figures.

They just laugh stupidly, and you're growing more and more flustered and annoyed. You are torn between wanting to shout and curl up in a ball and cry until they get uncomfortable and leave, when Koro pulls the last straw.

"It's a shame that such a pretty little thing has no humour," he grins to his friends. "You know I'd-"

"Out," you shout.

They don't look at all as though they're going to leave, but then Aonung shoots them a certain sort of look you miss, because your heart is pounding fast and angry tears are stinging your eyes.

You're mortified, that they knew about your crush, that they managed to get so far under your skin, that everyone had so little respect for you that they only listen when Aonung tells them to do something.

As they file out, you can hear them snickering to each other, and their gazes blazing on your bowed head as they walk away.

"You can leave too," you say off-handedly, turning away so your back is to Aonung.

"Oh?" Aonung asks, his voice deep and amused. "You're going to kick me out of my own mum's marui?"

"Yes," you grumble, sitting down and glaring at him. "Fuck off."

Aonung just laughs, his massive body still leaning against the entrance as he stares down at you, blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Are you alright?" he asks, once he stops laughing. You frown at the slight concern in his voice before glaring up at him.

"Yes I'm fine," you snap. "Now are you done?"

Aonung just stares for a few more seconds before he pushes off the wall and walks over to you.

Oh Eywa's just playing a fucking game with you right now. Aonung reaches out, lightly taking your small head in his hand and gently tilting your face up towards him with a soft hand.

"Is what they said true?" he asks quietly.

"Aren't you the one that finds my crush obvious as fuck?" you snap.

But you don't pull away, and you both know it. Instead, you just stay put little a stupid good girl and stare up at him, waiting for what he's about to do.

"I'm fucking pathetic, I know," you whisper. "I have to work my ass off just to get the tiniest bit of recognition, and this is the longest we've ever spoken. All you do is glare at me from other sides of the village, and I still liked you."

"You're not," Aonung says. "Pathetic, I mean. They're just skxawngs."

"They're your friends," you point out. "They're the ones that knew I liked you, that just come and fucking taunt me and touch me and-"

"Let me see," Aonung cuts you off.

You scowl at him and try to push him away, but he just easily grabs your wrist and peers around you to see your hips, where the mark is still red against your skin.

"It's not a big deal," you growl. "I just don't need shit for having a stupid crush. No one ever needed to know and it wasn't hurting anyone. If I knew what skxawngs you and your friends are, I'd never like you."

"This skirt is thin," is all Aonung says. "And short. Tawtute clothing is strange, but this one is small compared-"

"It was for you!" you snap. "All the stupid dressing up and acting nice and being sweet and trying to be pretty just so you would stop glaring and look at me for ONCE!"

Aonung's frown deepens slightly, like he's confused, like you aren't making any sense. Stupid alien boys, so oblivious to everything around them.

"I am looking at you," he says quietly.

"No," you hiss. "You're looking down on me like always, just because I'm a human-"

Your voice dies in your throat when Aonung instantly sits beside you, his hands picking you up as though you weigh nothing and placing you gently in his massive lap.

Your faces are a foot apart, your hands immediately falling to his shoulder to steady yourself, an unnecessary action given that he's easily holding you by your waist.

"Better?" he asks sincerely, as though he genuinely thought this would help.

You can hardly breathe over the pounding of your heart. You are nervous and pissed and terrified and also fucking horny.

Oh Eywa, how is he doing this- just instantly making you forget everything that happened by placing you on his lap and staring at you with those large blue eyes.

"What are you doing here Aonung?" you say tiredly.

His ears prick up at the sound of his name, the first time he's heard you speak it. You can hardly miss the sway of his tail behind you.

"Injury," he shrugs.

You scoff, and he turns to frown at you.

"I am injured," he frowns. "I went to my mother and she told me to come to you."

"She did?" you ask, confused. "If you're hurt, why would she tell you to come to me?"

"So I could hear your great love confession?" Aonung shrugs, eyes sparkling with amusement.

You growl and make to stand up, but his hands keep you firmly planted in his lap.

"Trying to leave now?" he asks. "Don't you want to help me paksalin?"

"Don't call me that," you hiss.

"You don't like it?" Aonung asks, looking confused.

"You're being mean," you say finally. "Everyone was right about you- you're a skxawng playboy."

"Playboy?" Aonung asks, sounding out the human word with confusion.

"Yeah," you say. "Like a slut."

Aonung laughs in surprise, brows raising at your annoyance with him.

"I thought you were all meek and sweet," he says finally.

"Not anymore," you grumble. "Cat's out of the bag sweetie, so I can go back to being a bitch again. Now let me go so I can help you out."

To your surprise, he instantly obeys, letting his arms drop to his sides so you can clamber out of his lap and collect your paste again. When you turn back, you notice the injury.

"You're hurt."

It's a blunt statement, and you're pointing out the obvious. Aonung has a no shit look on his face, before he notices your concern.

"It's alright," he says gently. "I just got a little scraped by the akula."

"Aonung, there's an akula tooth stuck in your arm," you say, instantly kneeling beside him.

"There is?" he says, sounding interested. "Huh."

"Huh?" you hiss incredulously. "There is a three inch tooth stuck in your arm and you say HUH?"

Aonung just shrugs, and you crouch down to study it, before gently cleaning it up. He hisses a little when you first wipe over the wound, but he just grits his teeth and sits still with patience his skxawng friends could never possess.

"I should probably take this out," you say, once you've wiped all the blood that you can manage to, and placing a comforting, steady hand on the strong muscles of his shoulder.

"Fine," he grumbles.

"I'll be gentle," you promise. "It'll come nice and easy."

"That's what I want to hear," he says, smirking.

Your mouth parts in amused incredulity, and you lightly smack his shoulder as he turns his head to grin cheekily at you.

"Stay still," you instruct. "Straighten up like this, and try not to move too much. Now, just breathe."

Trying to ignore the very persistent flow of blood as you gently grab the top of the tooth, you start to very slowly pull it out.

"Ow," he hisses, his hand instantly jumping to take yours.

"Sorry," you say, giving his own hand a reassuring squeeze, and he quickly shakes his head and swallows.

"I'm all good, just pull it out fast."

"Is that also what you like to hear?" you ask teasingly, and he laughs a little.

His laugh quickly turns into a groan of pain as you use his amusement as a distraction and yank the tooth out.

"Fuck," he hisses under his breath.

"Good job," you say, as though you're treating a child and patting his head like a good boy. "Here, you can keep the tooth as a souvenir."

"Tawtute," he says gently, before you can leave.

"Yeah?"

"You aren't pathetic, liking me-"

"Yeah, you're very handsome and cool and hot, I get it," you say, rolling your eyes. "Listen Aonung."

And he does, looking up at you like a little puppy sitting on the woven floor, waiting patiently for you to speak.

━━━━༺❀༻━━━━

Anyway, that's a start to what I've written just to stir some attention (hopefully 🙏), and I hope you like what I'll publish in a few days 💗

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist as well 😁

#aonung #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar fandom #avatar fanfiction #aonung fanfiction #avatar smut #aonung fic #aonung x female reader #aonung x reader #aonung x human reader #aonung x human #hope you enjoy

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