#nobody wants games shoved down their throats for an eternity

[decaffeinatedshades]

You know what I miss on Tumblr?

Being able to block certain adds. No, I don't want to play Hogwarts Mystery, and that won't change if you keep shoving videos of two kids kissing down my throat. I'm fucking ace, wanna get me to play your game, show me dragons.

[sxcret-garden-archive]

Part 6 - Keeho ✧ Playing with Fire

✧ P1Harmony - 7 Minutes in Heaven series ✧ P1Harmony Keeho x reader ✧ words: ~1.3k ✧ genre: fluff ✧ warning: suggestive

← Part 5 - Theo

The pleased smile on your lips only broadens when the last pair as well returns from the closet, and by the looks of it your last attempt at setting people up with each other went well too. 

“And with that, the game is over!” you announce and start clapping your hands, having put away your hat a few minutes ago. Keeho chimes in immediately, and so do some of your friends, but not all of them seem so happy about this ending.

“What about you two?” Intak questions as he points at you and your boyfriend.

“Right!” Jongseob says. “Aren’t you two going?”

“Hey, we’re already a couple, aren’t we?” you retort, but he doesn’t let you off the hook. Instead, he takes his partner’s hand and continues,

“Well, so were we.”

“Yeah, I think we should send them in there too,” Taeyang decides and shoots you and Keeho a glare. As if you didn’t just help him by setting him up with the person he’s been liking for an eternity. Feeling a bit backstabbed, you start to complain, but nobody will listen to you, nor Keeho, and so you end up being shoved into the closet, doors locked once you’re in there. You cross your arms sulking, while your boyfriend seems to find the situation a lot more amusing than you do.

“Hey, it’s just seven minutes,” he tries to appease you. “Is it so bad to be in a narrow room with your boyfriend for seven minutes?” When you do nothing but snort, he continues, “Well, fine, I guess you don’t love me anymore…”

“Oh shut up,” you eventually yell an answer. “You know I’m just pissed cause…”

“Cause they got back at us even though you technically did something good for them?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, not everyone wants to be forced into a super small room with their crush,” he argues. “I told you we shouldn’t cheat.” Keeho steps a little closer to you. Not like there is much of a need for him to move if he wants to be close to you in such a tiny room. “Babe, why not just use the time we have here?” He reaches out to run his fingers through your hair, then cups your face with that same hand. You expect him to kiss you right away, but instead he bites down on his bottom lip, releasing it only very slowly, all while his pupils wander from your eyes to your mouth, and back to your eyes.

“Just kiss me already,” you demand, keeping your voice low, and after shooting you a pleased grin, your boyfriend leans in. He brushes his lips against yours softly, your kiss is no more than a brief, feathery touch, and then he pulls back. You exhale in frustration, as you expected him to give you a proper kiss. However, since his plan seems to be messing with you, you decide to just take matters into your own hands. So you lean in to kiss him properly, but before you can connect your lips to his, you feel his fingertips being put over your mouth. With a teasing grin he pushes you backwards, and instead of a kiss on the lips he buries his face in your neck to nibble on your skin there.

“Keeho, what are you doing…” you ask sharply, while putting your hands on his shoulders and pulling him just a tiny bit closer. “They’re gonna let us out in a few minutes, what if someone-” He comes back up and smashes his lips against yours to shut you up mid-sentence. And that’s where you feel a switch flick inside of you. Using the given opportunity, one of your hands sneaks to the back of his head, keeping him in position, and you part his lips with your tongue, slipping it inside his mouth. Meanwhile you feel his hands sliding down the sides of your body, coming to a halt on your hips.

“You’re playing with fire, Yoon Keeho…” you whisper, all while not permitting him to get further away from you than an inch or two. You hear a deep chuckle escaping his throat.

“Why the full-name-bomb?” he asks, even though you’re convinced he knows the exact reason. Not wanting to play along with his mind-games, you simply kiss him again, and you feel him slipping his hands underneath the fabric of your shirt. The cool temperature of his fingertips sends shivers down your spine once he comes in contact with your stomach, and you find yourself moaning into the kiss you share. 

“That was kinda hot…” he remarks after you part, and you’re not sure if you should be happy about the comment or mad that you gave him some satisfaction you weren’t going to grant him after teasing you like that. Meeting his gaze and seeing how his pupils have darkened with desire, you decide that it really doesn’t matter, though. Instead you just pull him in again, kissing him breathless as your fingers are tugging at his hair and his shirt, and his own hands slowly make their way up your torso. You feel your temperature rising, and as you’re about to lose yourself in the fire he’s causing to spread in your veins, you hear a noise that tears you out of your trance - and consequently makes you break the kiss to look towards the closet door.

“Oh,” Jiung exclaims, peeking through the half open door, and he can barely tear his eyes away from the two of you in shock over discovering the position you’re in. Right behind him, you find another one of the guys pointing his finger at you.

“Ha!” Theo exclaims, “Now you know how it feels!” Staring back at them, unsure how to react, it begins to dawn on you why some of them were so pissed at your great masterplan. Maybe they just didn’t like getting interrupted after only seven minutes… 

“Hey! What are you guys staring at?!” Keeho yells at them, and he recovers one of his hands from underneath your shirt to reach for the closet door. “We’re busy!” With those words he slams the door shut, and without waiting to see if the others would open it again to keep complaining or not, he reconnects his lips to yours. 

“We can’t just-” You pull back for a second to try to convey to him that leaving your guests by themselves might not be such a good idea. However, Keeho’s opinion seems to differ, as he immediately presses another kiss against your lips, and then he starts slowly working his way to your jaw and down your neck, trailing kisses and little bites along your skin as he goes. 

“Keeho, I mean it-” you try to object one more time, while your body tells you to just shut up and enjoy his touches. Your boyfriend takes a step back to look you in the eyes.

“What do you mean?” he asks, waiting patiently for your answer, while you struggle to decide what to tell him, and the playful glint in his pupils isn’t exactly helping you with that.

“Oh, fuck this,” you eventually mutter. “You’ve been waiting for this too, haven’t you?” You grab his face with both your hands and pull him towards you for another needy kiss.

“I wonder,” he eventually answers once you release his lips for a short moment. The answer doesn’t satisfy you, but that’s none of your concerns right now. And so you lean in to keep making out with him, while even you forget about the situation you’re in, as well as the guests at least for a little while. 

[luvdsc]

too hot! hot damn!

what do you get when you mix red and blue together?

pairing :: lee taeyong x reader genre :: fluff / boyfriend au word count :: 2,121 words warnings :: a tiny paragraph about making out playlist :: cherry kisses (chungha) ⋆ daft pretty boys (bad suns) ⋆ hands on me (taeyeon) ⋆ crash my car (coin) ⋆ shy (hunny) author’s note :: to the insanely talented goddess who wrote the first nct fic i ever read nearly 3 years ago and still love to this day!!! i didn’t think i’d ever get to be friends with one of my favoritest writers on here, but here we are :’) ily els @taeyongtime​ ♡ 

“It’s hot.”

You’re draped across the old, yet still very plush couch, the kitschy pattern spread across it now fondly regarded as one of the things that transforms this dingy little place from a shoebox apartment into home. The thin spaghetti strap of your faded tie-dyed tank top from your old sorority days hangs limply off of your shoulder, threatening to fall even more when you slump over to the left. The simple drawstring shorts you have on barely cover your legs, but you contemplate tossing them off still because it’s just. So. Damn. Hot.

“It’s hot!” you whine even louder, throwing your arms up in the air before letting them flop down onto the cushions dramatically. The nearby open window only blows in a measly little breeze that does nothing except dry the sweat on your skin for a few glorious seconds before it reappears like a stubborn stain. Your boyfriend only raises an eyebrow at you from his spot on the floor, sprawled out in front of said window and using one of his Nylon magazines as a makeshift fan.

Taeyong agrees, flapping the glossy pages in front of his face desperately. “It’s too hot.”

Two days consisting of barely surviving the power outage creeps into a third, the prospect of having AC again anytime soon becoming extremely bleak. The transformer had completely blown out, and the electric company finally sent out a crew to fix it earlier this morning. The estimated restoration was initially set to noon, but it was pushed back until 3 p.m., then 6 p.m., then 10 p.m., then 5 a.m., and now the big black bolded letters spelling out “undetermined” mocks you from the screen of your phone that's already set to the lowest brightness setting to conserve battery.

To make it worse, your city was suffering a heat wave, temperatures spiking to 105 degrees Fahrenheit every single day and simmering down to 80 during the night before climbing the thermostat again. The raging thunderstorm that plagued last night only resulted in unexpected humidity, making your clothes stick to you like a second skin.

“Make it less hot,” you moan, blowing air upwards towards your forehead in an attempt to cool down in the slightest way possible.

“I can’t control the weather, babe, but I can get you a popsicle?” Taeyong sluggishly pushes himself into a sitting position to face you. The shiny magazine in his hand still flounders around until he gives up on it and tosses it aside.

You turn your head, cheek pressing into the couch cushion, as you squint at him. “We don’t have any left. We took all our food from the fridge to Doyoung’s place. I can’t believe that bastard has a gigantic generator and is flourishing in his stupid air conditioned apartment and making frozen sangrias, while his best friends are about to die from heatstroke.”

You had sent back a rather crass Snapchat back to Doyoung after he sent one earlier of his perfect, Instagram story worthy, iced alcoholic beverage. It’s honestly a miracle that he didn’t toss your beloved brown sugar boba ice cream bars out onto his pristine balcony with picture perfect potted plants to perish. That man can still hold onto a grudge even after he’s on his deathbed and descending into the fiery pits.

Taeyong stands up and slowly ambles towards the refrigerator. “I saved two popsicles in the freezer. I figured it’d stay cold enough and not melt if we ate them soon.”

“Oh my god, that’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.” You struggle to push yourself up into a sitting position before finally being able to, watching your boyfriend open the freezer and pull out the last two saving graces.

“Do you want blue raspberry or cherry?”

He holds out the two icy sweets in front of you, one in each hand. You already know that he secretly wants the red one; it’s been his favorite ever since he was five and tried his very first one from the ice cream truck that still comes around his parents’ neighborhood. But you also know that he always lets you choose first and wouldn’t complain if you take that one.

You reach out and pluck the blue one from his grasp, and he smiles happily, eyes crinkling in the corners as he eagerly unwraps the cherry flavored one and shoves it in his mouth, tossing the wrapper into the nearby wicker trash basket.

He drops down onto the empty space next to you, reclining back and slouching in his seat. The two of you sit there peacefully, side by side and enjoying the cold snacks, until he wordlessly slides over, pressing the side of his arm and leg against yours.

“Move back,” you complain, shoving him over to his original position. “It’s hot, and you’re making it worse.”

“So are you calling me hot?” Taeyong wriggles his eyebrows at you before taking a bite of his popsicle, much to your horror. He moves closer to you again for the sole sake of annoying you.

“First off, I’m calling you sweaty. Secondly, did you just bite your ice cream?” You throw him a dirty look before moving over and turning to sit with your back against the arm rest, throwing your legs over his lap.

Taeyong slightly pouts at you, munching on yet another chunk of his popsicle and ignoring the way you wrinkle your nose in disdain. “What’s wrong with that? It’s melting, and I don’t want it to drip and get my hand all sticky.”

You can’t believe that you just discovered your boyfriend is a psychopath. He’s going to the same circle of hell as people who pour milk in before cereal and those who hate mint chocolate chip ice cream once he leaves this earth (He can even say hi to Doyoung as he descends to eternal damnation).

“Why didn’t you say anything about this before we started dating?” You are absolutely appalled. Horrified. Disgusted. This is the biggest relationship deal breaker you have ever come across.

“Next, you’re gonna say you hate me because I don’t like pineapple on pizza,” he says as his free hand settles on the top of your thigh, gently tapping rhythmically against it absentmindedly.

“Oh my god, you absolute heathen.” You really thought Taeyong was the perfect man of your dreams, but you unfortunately realize belatedly that even he has flaws. Some inexcusable ones, in fact. 

In the midst of your lamenting, you fail to notice melting sugar slowly trickling down until it leaves a sticky mess all over your hand. Desperately, you toss the empty popsicle stick into the nearby waste basket before licking off the remnants of your icy blue treat from your fingers.

“See? It melted all over you. I told you so,” Taeyong childishly sticks out his tongue as he waves his clean hand and empty popsicle stick around as if to emphasize his point.

“Your tongue’s red,” you say, chuckling slightly, and his eyes widen at this newfound revelation.

“Wait, stick out your tongue,” he demands as he throws away the wooden stick, and you comply with his request. He grins, delighted. “Yours is blue!”

He sticks out his tongue again, almost going cross eyed as he tries to catch a glimpse of his own. At that, your eyes zero in on his cherry stained lips, and an ingenious idea pops up in your mind as the sudden urge to kiss your boyfriend silly makes itself very known.

“Hey, wanna play a game, Yongie?” you ask slyly, and his attention immediately turns to you at the word “game,” interest piqued and eyes fixated on you.

“What kind of game?” he inquires cautiously, taking note of the mischievous glimmer in your eyes. You look like you’re up to no good, and your boyfriend wouldn’t be surprised if you have something up your metaphorical sleeve (Because nobody sane enough would be wearing something with sleeves in this weather from hell. In fact, you’re 66.6% percent certain that those fiery pits are probably cooler compared to here).

“Too hot.”

“Yes, it is,” he acknowledges, shaking his head in agreement, and you laugh, fanning yourself with your hands. “No, silly, I meant the game.” 

“It’s called ‘too hot’?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and you confirm, nodding your head. The expression of skepticism on his face says it all, so you throw in your bargaining chip.

“I hid a chocolate bar in the freezer’s ice chest. The winner can have it.”

His doe eyes immediately light up at the mention of his favorite sweet, and he grabs your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Okay, how do I play?”

“We kiss,” you start, and he’s already pulling you towards him enthusiastically, causing soft laughter to bubble up from your throat, before you swat his hands away. “Hey, hey, hey, I wasn’t done explaining it yet! There’s no touching allowed.”

“That’s no fun,” Taeyong whines, lips jutting out into a tiny pout that you want to kiss away already. “You said this is a game. Games are supposed to be fun.”

“But you’re getting kisses, and it’s already hot so it’s better this way,” you coax, and he relents with a drawn out sigh, and you quietly cheer. “Okay, ready?”

Taeyong gives you a tiny nod, and you grin before leaning in, eyes fluttering close. You gently place your lips against his, and he holds still. But then, a few seconds later, you feel his fingers barely grazing your cheek, and you immediately pull away with a frown.

“Baby, I told you that you can’t touch!”

“That rule is dumb,” he complains, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. You frown at him, pouting until he gives in again because it’s you and he’d cross oceans and climb mountains for you.

“Okay, let’s try again,” he grumbles, glowering as he absentmindedly cards his hand through his hair, and you positively beam at him, and the sulking expression on his face softens almost instantly.

“What if we do baby steps first?” You pull your legs up onto the couch, sitting up on your knees and facing him. He fully turns to look at you, head cocked to one side.

“What do you mean?”

You lean forward and peck his cheek before moving back to your original position. “Like that. Now your turn.”

A lightbulb goes off in his head, and Taeyong leans forward and gingerly places a kiss on your forehead with an endearing smile. You inch forward and kiss his other cheek. He plants a tiny kiss to the tip of your nose, and you lean in to delicately leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth. He presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, and you do the same to the opposite side, much to his utter frustration.

This time, Taeyong chases after you when you pull away. You let out a noise of surprise as he gently tugs you forward, crashing his lips against yours and muffling your laughter, and you find yourself straddling your boyfriend. Your hands wind up tangled in his hair, while his arms lock around your waist and hold you close, game be damned.

You can taste a faint trace of cherry, causing the corners of your mouth to curl into the minutest hint of a smile before you press your mouth against his more firmly as he kisses you back eagerly until you both run out of air, pulling away breathlessly with identical smiles.

“You lost,” you tease, poking his cheek with your finger as your other hand curls around his shirt. He makes a face at you, his hands still resting on your waist, and you find that you don’t mind the warmth of them against your skin even in this ruthlessly blazing weather.

“But you’ll share the chocolate, right?” he mumbles, face still flushed and lips redder than before. He traces soft patterns against your hip as you tilt your head to the side, faking your hesitation.

“Hmm, I don’t know, should I? I won fair and square.”

He sticks his tongue out at you. “Meanie.” 

You laugh, sliding off his lap and onto the empty seat next to him (albeit a little unwillingly, but it’s still hot as hell unfortunately, and conserving body heat together isn’t helping at all). Your boyfriend frowns, mostly because you’re no longer sitting in his lap, but partly because he doesn’t understand why you’re laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

Your grin widens, eyes sparkling like you know something he doesn’t (because you do). “Baby, your tongue’s purple.”

Taeyong turns a shade brighter than his favorite popsicle flavor.

[cheese-ception]

The Gift

A very belated fluffy gift to my sweet friend Pandi! I hope you like it, my dear ♡ beta and all that good stuff by @masamune-archive sugar-free tags for @tsubaki3192​ and @spanish-aguacate​ - feel free to add them to your diet, bbys pairing: Leviathan (Obey Me!) x fem!MC warnings: none  word count: 1639 

The cafeteria was loud as always, laughter and shrill shrieks of the lesser demons cutting harshly through the air. The smell of grease hung amidst it all, causing Leviathan to scrunch his nose in disapproval. He stood in the line for what felt like eternity, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, reaching for his DDD frequently, only to be met by a complete lack of notifications. He shoved it back into his pocket, disgruntled but not surprised. After all, why would the normie text him when his brothers offered much better forms of entertainment than he ever could. He was just a lame nerd and aside of Henry nobody would want to be with him willingly.

The dark spiral of his insecurities came to a halt upon overhearing a nearby conversation. Why did they even have to be so loud, geeze... But he heard the human's name and curiosity overthrew any of his initial annoyance, his focus now fully on paying closer attention to the chat as it went on.

“And then she tried to ask if she could pay next time, because she spent all her grimm on some weeby collectible or some shit, haha! What a joke!'

Punctuating his speech by a slap across the ass of the succubus on his arm, the lesser demon laughed as his little story came to an end. The venom in his tone, aimed towards the human, set Levi off more than the any of the words themselves, causing his horns to sprout from his temples without him even realising.

Soon he was looming over the offender, the dangerous glint in his amber eyes leaving no doubt that he was indeed infuriated beyond what could be fixed by simple apologies. His clawed hand grabbed the demon's collar, lifting him into the air with unexpected ease, anger fuelling his actions with strength that surprised not only him, but all the nearby bystanders alike.

Levi was known to mostly keep to himself, but he was a high-ranking demon after all and despite his usual reclusive demeanour and calm visage, he was not to be trifled with. After a short interrogation for more details he tossed the lesser demon aside and strode out, tail swishing behind him in erratic sweeps, unable to calm down until he found out more.

He spent hours searching for the human, but to no avail. She was nowhere to be found and he was certain that he looked everywhere. His legs ached and his chest hurt, worn out by so much unexpected exercise. He wasn't used to being out of his room so much after all and it already took all of his resolve not to just go back in there to chase it all away by gaming or venting out on the forums. Sheer anger was still filling him to the brim, almost as if he wasn't the avatar of envy but of wrath instead.

He felt a faint stabbing sensation and he was almost certain it was fear, illogical as that would be. Why would he be afraid, really? Because something could have happened to her? Why did he even care so much, when surely it was one-sided? Giving up the search at last, he decided to head in, shoulders slumping down in defeat, his demon form finally dissipating as the rage inside him began to subside, replaced by the usual void and self-doubt.

As if he was even good enough to find her if she did not want to be found.

It was all pointless.

He did not bother turning on the lights, leaving the room lit only by Henry's tank, to help mask his shame. Levi headed towards his tub, shedding his coat and hoodie off, ready to submerge himself in the calming water.

He reached for the faucet, just about to turn it on, but decided to check the tub just in case he forgot anything inside, only to freeze immediately.

A tuft of auburn hair peeked from beneath his favourite blanket, the very human he spent all this time searching for wrapped in it, breathing lightly in her restless sleep. Leviathan yelped, clasping his hands over his mouth much too late to prevent the sound from escaping him and she jumped awake, bumping into his chin painfully, almost causing him to raise his voice again.

This time he managed to keep it in, blush tinting his cheeks at her sudden proximity, but trying to appear collected as he steadied her with his hands on each of her shoulders.

“Oh, Levi! You are home!” she exclaimed, still too dazed to realize how inappropriate this all was. She reached out to hug him, only then finally snapping out of it as she leaned away from him, her back against the side of the tub.

“W..what is going on with you? I looked for you everywhere! You didn't even eat lunch and it's so already so late we missed dinner too-”

A loud growl interrupted his chastising speech and he gripped at his stomach in a somewhat comical attempt to stop it from making even more noise.

She giggled, a sound so sweet to him that it made him freeze again, his gaze dropping away from her as shyness overtook his previous attempts at reprimanding her for her foolish actions.

“How did you know?”

“How did I know what?” he retorted, titling his head sideways and stealing a quick glance at her dishevelled form.

“That I did not have lunch. You just said it, but I do not remember telling you about it and it is not like you ever go to the cafeteria yourself. It's much too loud there for you, is it not?”

She wasn’t mocking him. She actually sounded like she cared enough to remember that about him, that he really did not like it there because of all the ruckus. But that was not important now, surely... Or was it? “Well, I went today, because they had the rainbow pizza special, and some idiots there were talking about you not being able to afford the meal-”

Leviathan's pupils widened and he nearly bit his tongue, interrupted by her hand pressed against his lips, making him unable to carry on talking.

She kept it there, reaching over the side of the tub with the other, flustered enough that the tips of her ears were dusted in a light shade of red.

He stared at her in a mix of shock and awe, quiet even after she removed her hand from him, placing it on the top of a neatly wrapped package with a blue ribbon on it, pushing it against his chest hastily.

“Don't say anything else, just open it!” she uttered, gazing at him expectantly while he held the box in his arms, puzzled and taken aback by the intensity of her stare.

He obeyed her request, carefully unwrapping the ribbon and the wrapping paper to reveal the case underneath, fingers shaking slightly as he went.

It was a gilded display package adorned by intricate engravings, beautifully sculpted golden-plated leaves of ivy coiling around the long-sold out extra rare limited edition Ruri-chan figurine that he was after for as long as he could remember, yet never able to get it.

Now it was right there, in his very hands and he had to look twice to make sure he was not just imagining it, his throat tight and heart threatening to jump right out his rib-cage.

He blinked several times, pushing away the tears in the corners of his eyes, unable to speak for a solid few moments, simply staring at the gift in front of him.

“Y..you got this, for me?” he stammered out, his voice coming out so high-pitched he immediately regretted trusting himself to talk while still in shock, a fierce blush burning on his face like fire.

Cupping his cheeks, she gazed at him lovingly and nodded, the sight of it alone making him gasp softly and he was unable to hold his tears back any further.

Setting the box aside carefully, he climbed into the tub, pulling her into a hug, hesitant fingers brushing though her hair as she snuggled up against him, warm and delicate and...

His. Leviathan exhaled, adjusting his position slightly, allowing his digits to brush against her jawline, a touch so fleeting yet so filled with all the repressed emotions he has been harbouring for her for longer than he cared to admit.

“That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, but could you maybe promise me something?” His brows furrowed slightly as he asked, anxiety seeping into his thoughts once more before he even dared to follow up with the actual question.

“I am not one to make promises without even knowing what they're about, Levi. What would you have me do?” she chirped merrily, pleased with his reaction to the gift.

He swallowed, taking a few calming breaths before mustering up the courage to reply, biting into his lower lip a few times for the good measure.

“You'll have your lunch with me from now on, I can't very well have you skipping meals with a good conscience, even if it is for something this cool...” he trailed off, unsure if this would be something she would be willing to say yes to, clinging onto the faint hope that she might.

Crystalline laughter filled the room and she hugged him tighter, sliding her fingers between his as if it was the most natural thing ever.

“Sounds good! It's a date then!”

He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the sweet scent of her shampoo, pleasantly overwhelmed by a powerful wave of happiness, a joy so absolute he could barely believe it. Her last sentence an even better gift than Ruri-chan herself.

It's a date then!

________ Masterlist

[magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics]

Summer Loving - Request

Requested by @amberautumn: I wondered if you could write a Ron Weasley smut where the reader visits him at the Burrow during the summer, and they stay up late after most everyone in the house has gone to bed

Word Count: 2.509

Pairing: Ron x Reader

Warnings: Smut (unprotected, consensual, semi-public), Virgin!Ron x Experienced!Reader

A/N: I made Ron a Virgin, fight me. 

The Burrow during the summer was a whole show of beauty and magic - literally.

Molly Weasley wouldn’t spend a single day without yelling to one of her children in utter desperation, either because Fred and George charmed the family clock to mark them in prison, or Ron getting in trouble along Harry, and Ginny being living-sass every time every day… Or any other shenanigans either of them managed to do right under her nose.

“I need some holiday…” She said one morning, “I deserve some holiday, Arthur.”

Arthur Weasley, who was absolutely in love with his wife, didn’t even hesitate. He knew that, if he refused, she’d explode in a million pieces and return as a ghost solely to haunt him for the rest of his days, and after she’d spend their eternity in a state of anger that would haunt his death as well.

“We’re only leaving for the weekend,” Arthur explained to his kids and Harry, “just to let her breathe.”

“When we return, I better find this house in perfect state,” Molly threatened. “I love you all, don’t take this personal, but you’re just… so many kids.”

“We know, don’t worry,” the twins replied with honest smiles. “We’ll behave better than ever.”

“I’m scared already…” Molly whispered but shook the thought out of her head. If her kids made a mistake, she’d find a way to fix it back after her return. “I love you, you know where to find us.”

Arthur said goodbye to them as well and they both disappeared in the middle of the front yard, with bags and all.

“Where are they going?” Harry asked.

“Charlie managed to get a room for them in Romania, it’s a quirky place but she’ll like it because the whole staff is mute,” Ron explained as he walked to the kitchen, shoving three cookies in his mouth right after finishing his sentence.

“Someone’s nervous,” the twins observed with a mocking smile on each of their faces.

“What did mum say about (Y/N) coming over?” Ginny inquired.

“Oh, she’s happy, she planned on receiving her with pumpkin pie and a scarf,” Ron mumbled, with his mouth full.

“How is she doing that if (Y/N) arrives…” Ginny stopped suddenly, and her mouth fell into an elongated O. “She doesn’t know (Y/N) arrives today, does she?” Ron didn’t answer, “YOU SNEAKY BASTARD!”

“What? Harry’s here during the whole summer and we don’t mind!” Ron exclaimed.

“It’s not about that and you know it!” Ginny grinned.

“Unless of course you also like to smooch Harry before going to bed,” Fred mocked him and started doing kissing noises.

“Not that we’d judge you, Ronnie,” George added, “Harry is quite a catch, but honestly…”

“That would actually explain why Ron offered me to stay at Charlie’s room this time,” Harry realised.

“Get lost!” Ron fumed and left to his room.

(Y/N)’s arrival was as awkward for Ron as one would imagine. The twins had offered to make dinner - which resulted in them only serving sweets - and the whole time they searched for Ron’s face to glance and offer him naughty giggles. (Y/N) remained unaware the whole evening.

At night, they decided to play a Quidditch match before going to bed. Fred, George and Ginny were going against Harry, Ron and (Y/N).

The game started. Ginny and (Y/N) were rather brilliant players who were both playing as Chasers, while Harry and Fred were the Seekers, and Ron along George were the Keepers. The rings were replaced with a pair of magical hoops that Charlie had left for them during his last visit, the hoops glowed and floated. 

There were no Beaters for two reasons: 1. There weren’t enough players. 2. Nobody had the energy to deal with the Bludger.

In the end, Fred, George and Ginny won. Harry had caught the Snitch (which had been hard considering it was the middle of the night and there was a New Moon) but Ginny had scored 150 points just by herself - the last ten points were scored at the same time Harry caught the Snitch.

After their irrefutable Victory, the twins and Ginny punished the Losers by making them pick up the balls, brooms and hoops, while they went to bed. 

Since Harry had caught the Snitch, he was able to put it in its box right away. The Quaffle, however, was lost somewhere in the great backyard.

“You go look for the Quaffle,” Harry commanded Ron, “we would’ve won if you hadn’t been distracted by your girlfriend.”

“I wasn’t distracted by her,” Ron refuted, “I got distracted by the looks you were all giving me.”

Harry chuckled. “Look, mate, I’ll go put these their place, and I’ll try to cover you for as long as I can.”

“Thanks, mate.”

“Got the rings!” (Y/N) exclaimed, as she approached the pair of friends with the hoops in hand. “What’s with the smug faces?”

“We’re… Planning a joke on Fred and George to get back at them for being annoying dickheads.” Ron lied.

“I’ll have these, thank you.” Harry took the hoops from (Y/N)’s hands and juggled them among the brooms.

“Let me help you,” she said.

“NO!” Harry and Ron replied in unison.

“It’s part of the joke,” Harry said. “I need to… um… keep these myself so they won’t suspect anything while you two go get the Quaffle… and then we can proceed with the joke.”

“Right…”

“Yeah, only one person can go in the house or else they will wake up… Harry is an expert in sneaking in so…” Ron started to explain and Harry noticed how his friend ran out of words.

“Alright, bye!” Harry hurried and ran back to the house, cursing every time something fell off his hands.

(Y/N) and Ron lit their wands and went on looking for the missing Quaffle. Truth was, Ron had spotted it near the house, but he didn’t tell as an attempt to get (Y/N) as far from his siblings as possible.

“It’s a shame Hermione couldn’t come,” (Y/N) murmured, “We always have a great time together.”

“Yeah, but I guess Austria is more interesting than this place,” Ron replied. “She is coming though, she’ll arrive the last week of summer and we’ll all go together back to school.”

“That’s lovely.” They continued to walk until they reached upon a moon dark moor. “You’re not pulling a joke on your brothers, are you?”

“No,” Ron confessed.

“And you do know the Quaffle is under the lemon tree your mother has in the yard?” (Y/N) asked with a grin.

“Yes…” Ron answered, “Wait a second, you know too!”

“I’m not dumb, Ron,” she stated. “I know we talked about… that.”

“Yeah, that,” Ron cleared his throat.

“I do want that, Ron. It’s just…”

“What?”

“You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

“Oh, yeah, that…” Ron blushed. “I haven’t because my brothers would mock me and you and that is something I do not want.” He explained in a robotic manner.

“Your brothers aren’t here,” She whispered.

Ron looked down shyly, although he had a nice smile on his face. The girl took a step forward and kissed him gently.

It wasn’t the first time they kissed. No, they had kissed quite often in the hallways after class, under the biggest tree from Hogsmead, at the upper floor in the Three Brooms, on the train back home… That was only their first kiss from that day, but it felt like they hadn’t kissed in ages.

“Are we really going to do that here?” Ron asked in a whisper.

“Nobody said anything about doing that,” she replied and Ron’s face fell into a dumbfounded expression that made (Y/N) burst in laughter.

“I’m just joking,” she said, “I’m up for it if you are.”

“I am.”

Now that was their first time. They were both scared to death but also incredibly excited about what would happen.

They laid on the grass just the way they had done many times before in the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. It was wet with summer dew but warm nonetheless due to the weather. They could hear crickets, frogs, toads, and even owls somewhere not far from there.

Ron was shaking. His kisses became shy around the corners of her mouth. She was patient, and soft, with him. It wasn’t her first time with a boy, just her first time with Ron, and though it was always scary to make love to someone new, she decided to play her part as the experienced one.

She didn’t force him to touch her, or to kiss her, or anything. No, she allowed him to go as he felt comfortable and, though Ron didn’t openly say it, he was grateful for that.

His kisses became deeper and slower as he balanced his weight between his knees and his elbows until he found a comfortable position, carrying his weight with one arm and his two knees. Then, with his free hand, he started touching her breasts over her shirt. He barely knew how they worked or what made them feel good, but they felt amazing under his touch and so he spent a good time squeezing them until he felt her hips move under his.

Ron pressed his hips to hers and lifted her shirt just enough to reveal her uncovered breasts. Gravity made them look and feel slightly different than when she was standing up, yet Ron thought of them as two pieces of the finest art.

“May I?” He asked timidly.

“Be my guest,” She replied with a smirk.

Ron leaned closer to her chest. He licked one of her nipples as he pinched the other with the free hand. She let out a breathy hum, which made Ron understand she was liking that, so he continued until he couldn’t contain himself anymore.

He unzipped his trousers while she unzipped hers. He pulled his own down to his thighs, and she simply took them off completely. 

Ron grabbed her hips with his free hand and carried her to align her core to his. But it was dark and, when he tried to thrust in, he found himself pressing against her groin. 

“Not there,” she giggled.

Ron blushed and tried again, failing once more. “I can’t find… it” he huffed.

(Y/N) decided to help him. She used one of her hands to guide him to her entrance. That was all he needed.

He thrusted her slowly, taking his time to allow her to adjust to him. It was a painless process, she was as wet as she could be and he was hard as a rock.

They made love at a slow pace. 

“Wait, there are branches poking at my arse.”

They moved clumsily trying to get rid of any branch or rock or anything that could poke her at any given moment. 

“Why don’t we try standing up?” Ron asked, feeling daring.

(Y/N) gave her a knowing look but agreed just to let him experiment. They stood up, and she managed to use a tree as a support to carry some of her weight. He stood up behind her, holding her hip with one hand and guiding his length with the other.

He thrusted in slowly, finally holding her with both hands. Her back was arched, and her hair was falling over one side of her face, leaving the other side free for Ron to kiss. He wrapped one hand around her waist and another one around her chest, to help her carry her weight as he sped up. (Y/N) was no longer holding back her moans.

She arched her back a bit more so her head could rest on Ron’s shoulder. “Touch me,” she whispered, and held the hand closest to her core and guided it towards her clit, teaching Ron how to touch her.

Ron obeyed, pressing her clit in a circular motion as he continued to thrust as deeply as he could. He was moaning as well, panting over her neck, sweating and feeling every inch of his half naked body covered in sweat. 

“More,” she managed to say. Ron obliged and she scratched the tree while she came all over his throbbing cock.

“You’re dripping,” Ron whispered, amused. 

“That’s how you got me…” She replied before turning her head back to kiss him. 

“D’you want more?”  Ron inquired, innocently.

“Yes,” she answered. 

In a newly achieved confidence, Ron pulled out and turned her around. He took off all of her clothes as well as his own, almost ripping them apart, and pinned her back to the tree. Both of her hands above her head, being held by one of Ron’s hands, and his other lifting one of her legs just enough to give him access to her entrance.

He pushed in and exhaled a groaned. “You feel tighter this way,” he commented and slowed down his pace, rolling his hips slightly every time he thrusted it. She couldn’t say a word, Ron’s pelvis hit her clit every time he thrusted in, and the idea of being pinned to a tree by no other than Ron Weasley in the middle of the night somewhere inside the woods next to his house was thrilling.

Ron kept thrusting in, making sure to not over extend her legs so she wouldn’t get hurt. He had maintained a careful pace - not too fast nor too slow - and also kept the eye contact in such a way that (Y/N) felt like she could die of pleasure.

Ron pushed deeper, hitting her cervix with his tip. (Y/N) shuddered, which worked for Ron as a sign that she had liked it and, therefore, continued to hit it until she reached her high once more, trembling in his arms as she dripped. 

Ron didn’t stop moving, not even when she was having her orgasm. No, he continued moving, searching for his own high but also enjoying every second inside her wet cunt. 

Out of a sudden, his whole body was controlled by a wave of heat. His legs trembled and his head went blank for a second. He managed to pull out right on time, spurting his cum away from (Y/N), into the ground. He was breathing heavily, and (Y/N) was just looking at him, aroused by the picture of him cumming.

“Did you cum?” Ron asked, once his feet were back on the ground.

“Yeah,” She said.

“I can finish you off in any other way…” He suggested before they started hearing voices nearby.

“RON! (Y/N)! WHERE ARE YOU?” Ginny, Fred, George, and even Harry, were looking for them.

“You can finish me off any other time, we’ve got to get dressed now, though.” She winked at him and started to get dressed as fast as she can, Ron did the same. 

Finally, they drifted back home; holding hands, with a big smile on their face and no excuse to cover what they had just done.

-------

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Forever Tags:  @dekahg @myfriendmagislit​ @thecrazyhatwoman @pureawesomeness001​ @bingewatchingmylifegoby​ @cutie1365​ @one-left-foot Smutters: @maybecutemuses  Harry Potter Universe Tags: @shadyladyperfection​

[nommy-thoughts]

A Tale of Two Noms Chapter 2:  Jelly as Far as the Eye Can See

Chapter 1: Tea Bath Interrupted

Vore Masterpost

Summary: Logan has a bad habit of derailing Remus's pranks without even noticing.

2.6 K

contains: safe, soft vore (with some biting but no injury); willing prey, unaware pred, foodplay, and extreme micro. Implied fulltour at the end, but there's only one sentence about it.

~~~

Remus had a Plan. It was very sneaky. He was going to shrink himself to a fraction of an inch and hide in Logan's favorite jelly until the nerd ate him alive.

Foolproof.

He didn't account for the waiting period. Remus sat in the jelly jar, waiting, for what felt like five lifetimes. It was dark in the fridge, and cold, and most importantly, boring. Remus sighed dramatically, poking at the jelly surrounding him. He burrowed down, burying himself just under the surface, and tried to be patient.

Remus wasn't good at being patient.

This jelly was red, so Remus should have been able to pretend that he was buried in bloody gorey carnage, but the color link really only worked if there was actually light to see by, and the texture really didn't match. Even Remus's overactive imagination had trouble keeping up the game for long. He had to fall back on thinking about butts to keep himself even marginally entertained for the millions and billions of years it took for Logan to come eat him. 

Finally, finally, the refrigerator opened and Remus's jar was lifted. He poked his head just barely out to see, but the jar was only set down again without the lid being removed. Remus squinted, peering through the curved and smudged glass wall. He caught a glimpse of black fabric, and- yes! A blue tie. That was Logan, for sure.

Remus, pouting, had to wait even longer, but after three more eternities, Logan picked the jar up again, finally removing the lid. Remus wiggled in excitement, then stilled, reminding himself that he didn't want to be seen. A knife appeared at the opening, diving down toward him.

It missed.

It missed. Remus could only stare in horror as the knife retreated with a truckload of jelly on it, leaving him behind.

The jar went down again, dropping a skyscraper's height before it stopped with a thud that shook Remus's every scant inch and should have shattered the jar into a million razor-sharp pieces.

Remus lay on his back, staring dejectedly up at the kitchen ceiling miles away. The knife had missed. All his planning, all that waiting, and it had gone to waste.

The jar tilted, and Remus sighed mournfully, knowing that Logan would just be putting the lid back on. To his surprise, the knife returned. The knife returned, and it scooped up some more jelly, and it retreated again, leaving Remus behind once more.

Remus scowled. He'd gone to all this effort to be in the right place at the right time, the least Logan could do was actually eat him!

When the knife returned a third time, it went better. Remus got scooped up with the jelly, and he went soaring up, up, up. Then down, down, down. He landed flat on his face on a hard brown surface, and didn't have time to register what it was before the knife was at his back, sliding him along at an impressive pace and burying him under an avalanche of jam. If he wasn't imaginary, he'd have quite the road rash. Maybe he should let himself get a road rash anyway. That might be fun.

Without warning, the pitted ground dropped out from under him. Remus fell, landing hard. Jelly squished down around him, filling every bit of open space. Remus felt around with his fingers. The ground beneath him was firm, more or less smooth, and curved vaguely up. Remus pushed against it to lift his head out of the jelly and look around. He pushed, and he lifted, and he found nothing but more jelly. Remus squirmed, sitting up further. The layer of jelly above him was thicker than he'd expected, but finally, Remus rose enough that he could see.

And what he could see was more jelly, stretching away in every direction nearly as far as he could see. At the very edge of his vision, Remus saw a massive flesh-toned pillar, stretching into the sky. Logan's finger, pressed against the side of Remus's entire world to hold it up.

Remus was too busy staring that he didn't see the knife's return. It swept into him from the side, burying him in jelly once more and shoving him back down on his face.

Before he could push himself back up, the world dropped out from underneath him. It went down, down, practically at a freefall, and Remus went down with it. It stopped, briefly, then dropped again, somehow even faster, with a landing that knocked Remus's breath from his lungs. He lay, face down in jelly, until he was sure no more earthquakes were coming. Slowly, he pushed himself up again, looking around.

Logan wasn't holding him anymore. Remus hadn't been dropped on the floor, though. He was at about Logan's waist level, actually. Logan towered over him, the biggest living thing Remus had ever seen. It took his breath away.

At this distance, he could actually see Logan as one cohesive being, though blurred with distance, rather than just as disjointed parts. And he could see what Logan was doing: spreading jelly on a slice of toast. So that was what Remus was on, another toast. Remus smiled. Toast was good. He could work with toast.

The ground rumbled under him, and moments later, the air vibrated with sound Remus could not understand. He sharpened his ears just in time to see Logan look up from his toast and say, "Hi, Princey."

Remus looked, peering through the distance. Yes, there, like a moving mountain, was his brother.

"Snack break?" Logan continued, and Roman echoed it.

Roman continued to move around the kitchen, his footfalls shaking the counter and Remus's slice of toast like an earthquake. Remus ignored him, simply watching Logan as he began to eat the slice of toast in his hand. At this scale, Remus could see every minute motion, every twitch of every muscle in Logan's face and throat as he chewed and swallowed. And in just a few minutes, that would be Remus in there. He could scarcely wait.

After a while, Logan spoke again. "Want some toast?" Almost as if in slow motion, he reached down, toward Remus.

"No!" Remus cried, but nobody could hear him.

Logan's fingers slid under one edge of the toast, tipping it up. Remus fell over on his back and could only stare up at the ceiling as his world rushed upward. It stopped, and for a moment, there was silence. Remus hoped his brother would turn the offer down, but he knew it was not to be. Roman's gigantic voice rumbled through the air.

"Is that Crofter's?"

Logan replied, but Remus was too busy pouting to care what he said. He folded his arms, scowling up at the sky. Well, up at the ceiling. But it was far enough away that it was basically the sky. A tiled, grey sky.

The ground beneath him moved again, and Remus didn't have to look to know that he'd been handed over. There was a crunch, somewhere to his right, and when Remus turned his head to look, he saw that an entire corner of the slice of toast he lay on was missing, bitten off by his enormous brother.

"I wanted Logan to eat me," Remus muttered crossly. First the bellybutton thing, now this. Would Logan please stop accidentally backfiring Remus's vore pranks?

Roman took another gigantic bite, and Remus flipped him the bird. Next moment, everything shook, and if Remus wasn't already lying on his back, he would have fallen over again. After a few seconds, it stilled again. Remus sat up, looking around. Not much had changed. Roman was still holding him. Off in the far distance, Remus could see Logan, eating the other slice of toast. Remus made a rude gesture at him as well for good measure.

Not that either of them even noticed. Remus, covered from head to toe in Logan's Crofter's and smaller than a grain of rice, was indistinguishable from any other tiny bump in the jelly spread neatly across the slice of toast. If he got to his feet and jumped around and waved his arms and yelled, while they looked at his exact position, then maybe they'd see him, but as it was, he was as good as invisible.

Their conversation rumbled on overhead, but Remus didn't care enough to listen to what they were saying, allowing their words to become nothing more than meaningless thunderous noises, as though he was out in a storm.

Gradually, Roman ate the slice of toast Remus sat upon, his enormous perfect teeth tearing through it like it was nothing. For a while, Remus scowled at nothing, grumpily crossing his arms again, but eventually he decided that he may as well eke out what enjoyment he could, even if the plan had gone sideways.

That in mind, Remus turned and made himself comfortable, lying on his back so that he could easily look up at his brother. This was a splendid low angle; in addition to being able to see up his nose, Remus had a good view of the underside of Roman's princely jaw, which moved up and down as he chewed, and the whole of Roman's throat was on display before him. Roman swallowed his mouthful, and Remus watched as his adam's apple bobbed with the motion.

Roman lifted him again, cavernous mouth opening wide. Just the motion was enough to give Remus that delightful sensation of his stomach being left behind, but then he realized that Roman was about to eat the part of the toast on which Remus lay, and his heart jumped excitedly into his throat.

Roman’s teeth soared past overhead, and then they started to come down again, cutting out the light. Remus sat up, twisting to see as they came down in front of him, separating the bite of toast, with Remus on it, from the rest of the bread. Remus grinned. Now the really fun part could start! With a flick of his fingers, he made a light. Small enough that Roman and Logan wouldn’t notice it, even if Roman talked with his mouth full, but big enough that Remus could see what was happening.

Roman pulled the piece of toast further into his mouth with his tongue, moving it almost immediately to the side, between his molars. They crunched together right in front of Remus, crushing the middle of the toast between them. When they separated again, all that was left was crumbs. A moment later, Roman’s lower jaw lifted again, pulverizing the crumbs even smaller between his teeth, from the size of boulders to about the size of Remus himself. The crumbs were getting soggy, too, and they stuck together.

Roman’s jaw dropped away, but the ground under Remus rose, carrying him away from the gigantic molars. Remus twisted just in time to see the other side of his little toast island get crushed between Roman’s teeth on the other side of his mouth. Another bite, and his island grew even smaller. Then it was Remus’s turn. He looked up, seeing the bumpy ceiling of a single molar above him, and had just enough time to feel his heart skip a beat in pure, beautiful terror, before he swept up toward it.

The force of Roman’s bite forced him flat on his back. It crushed him into the jelly, and it squeezed every last breath of air from his lungs. His light appeared to wink out for a second. Then he dropped again, falling away on a bed of broken crumbs. They shifted under him, so that he rolled onto his front. Then, up once more, pinned between Roman’s molars with a force that would have killed anyone who wasn’t imaginarily indestructible.

This time, when Roman’s teeth separated, Remus saw the lower one drop away beneath him. He blinked in confusion. That wasn’t right…

One more chew, crushing Remus between his teeth again, and then Roman swallowed. He swallowed his entire mouthful, all of the pulverized crumbs tumbling down his throat… except for Remus. Remus remained, stuck, wedged inside a crevice in Roman’s tooth.

And there he remained, as Roman ate the entire rest of his slice of toast. After a few bites, Remus grew bored. It had been far more interesting before, watching the untamable force of Roman’s jaw at work all around him. Now all he could see was the piston-like motion below him, teeth moving up and down in a predictable motion. He wriggled, trying to free himself, but he was stuck fast.

Remus pouted. He’d have crossed his arms, but one was pinned to his side.

Finally, Roman stopped. He appeared to be done eating, because his lower teeth stilled, almost close enough for Remus to reach out and touch them. He could not tell how long they stayed like that, beyond that it was long enough for him to get even more bored.

Eventually, though, they dropped away again, and Roman's mouth was illuminated with light from the outside. Instead of more food, however, Remus’s vision was filled with something pink. He realized what it was a second before it squished against him: Roman’s tongue. The huge muscle slid across Remus’s body, then returned to prod at him again. Roman must have noticed he was there! Though he probably thought Remus was just a seed or something, stuck in his teeth. The tongue poked and prodded at Remus for several moments before finally managing to pry him out of the crevice. 

Free at last! Remus felt like cheering.

The tongue dropped, Remus along with it. It continued to move him around Roman’s mouth at a dizzying pace, and Remus slid uncontrollably around on it. Then, suddenly, he was rushing down the center of Roman’s tongue, falling down his throat, and he was swallowed.

At Remus's current size, his brother's throat seemed to be a mile long. Remus had always thought that being swallowed was the best waterslide in existence, and being swallowed at this size was even better. He zipped down Roman's throat, sliding down the slick muscled side, nearly at a freefall. He whooped in delight.

Remus landed with a splash in Roman’s stomach. His light had followed him down, so Remus was well able to see. Treading stomach acid, he looked around. The toast that had preceded him was soggy and half digested. Some still floated on the surface, but most had become waterlogged and sunk. “Aww!” Remus complained. “I wanted to watch!”

Almost as if in answer, the space around him trembled. Remus looked up just in time to see the clenched opening at the top of Roman’s stomach stretch open. A bunch of chewed up brown and red… stuff… squeezed through. Remus grinned in satisfaction. Roman must have gotten another slice of toast. Remus was in for a good show.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d stick around. It was far easier to stave off boredom in an active stomach than in a jar, or sitting on a slice of toast, or stuck to a tooth. He’d probably watch everything dissolve around him, and after that… well, Remus had never been this small inside a stomach before, but he thought he might be able to fit through the opening into the intestines. It might be fun to follow Roman’s meal further, see what happened to it as it went along.

[richukisbb]

Okay so meeting them this time was an unreal experience and I’m shaking. We got to the venue around 5:30 and wasn’t inside until 8:30. Latin men are late, which they were about an hour behind tbh. 

It was pouring rain but I made friends with other cncowners and that’s what I love about the fandom. One girl guessed I was a Richard and I’m like, “Damn how’d you know”

I’m gonna skip the nitty gritty like how I was fucking freezing, hungry (I hadn’t eaten much because I felt like I would vomit), and my feet sore because I was in heeled boots. 

Also yes, they bought pizza for us but I wasn’t going to eat it in fear of pizza breath and being bloated. 

When we got inside the venue, I took my mom, it was an intimate space. There were a bunch of rumors that we had to wear our jackets to take the pictures. But y���all I picked this outfit with the help of @yatusabess so I wasn’t gonna let it go to waste. Luckily, you could’ve left your things on the floor near the exit. 

Also no phones. So if they saw you with your phone, you’d be kicked out of the line. 

After setting all my stuff down, I had my photo of the basketball game on the ready. 

Tóxica was playing on the loud speaker. Like okay, it’s not the best choice of hype song but it’s our boys so we stan. 

Then we got closer to the front and Ya Tú Sabes starts playing, which slaps if you don’t listen to the lyrics.  

Thankfully I actually know the lyrics. 

Then I’m about two people behind from meeting them and the chorus hits so I’m dancing and singing. Ya Tú Sabes has that beat that’s so sensual?? I was just having fun to loosen the nerves. 

Their videographer saw me dancing to the chorus and took video. 

Then, Chris sees me and we’re kinda dancing together, pointing at each other and swaying our hips to the beat as though we were dancing with each other.  

I swear it was like a Y/N moment we write about. 

Here’s THE Christopher Velez just five feet away from me and we are matching the beat and not caring who’s watching us. Literally Ya Tú Sabes sounds like a bad bitch song so I’m feeling it and because I’m having fun with it, so is Chris. 

Like I said before, thankful that Tóxica just finished playing because I can’t get down to that. 

In fact, Chris got so distracted by our small dance party, he forgot he was supposed to be taking a picture with another fan and instead kept his eyes on me as we danced to Ya Tú Sabes. 

In my head I’m thinking damn ok can we hit the clubs after this?? I don’t even wanna hook ups with you, I just want to have a good time. 

One of the store managers is like “hug the first three, picture, then hug the last two.”

I’m just agreeing with her but highkey no one listens to that. 

So now it’s my turn and I go to CHRIS and show him my picture. CHRIS takes the photo and is genuinely trying to recall the memory so I said, “I don’t know if you remember but we took this photo. My ex broke up with me because he saw it and turns out he was cheating on me.” 

I was trying to be fast and coherent. When you’re at a M&G you have to utilize every second you have. 

Now Chris and Erick are both staring at the photo then at me. Chris’ mouth is hung open trying to process what I said. 

Erick takes hold of my right bicep and says, “Wait really?”

I remember this because in order to reply I had to look into those STUNNING JADE eyes!!

So I nodded, “Yes. Really. He BROKE up with me. But he was the one cheating all along.” 

I’m so proud of Erick and how far he’s come to be a buy linguini king ✊🏼

Wbk but Erick is really fucking beautiful lol. 

But then Alex, their security, is rushing us like “picture, picture” so I go to hug Zabdiel and Richard. 

Richard cheek kisses me and hugs me like we’re best friends and he’s like “Hi baby.” Pretty sure the hug was longer than the other boys but that’s because I’m most comfortable with Rich.

Tbh what I remember about Richard was how firm his embrace was and feeling his lips against my cheeks. He was super chill. 

I’m not. 

I’ll rob a bank for that man. 

The boys originally stood in a 5 line formation but none of them were paying attention to their managers or Alex and instead they broke formation to huddle around me and are talking to me. 

CHRIS cuts in front of Erick and Zabdiel to ask, “Wait so you found out about him cheating because of us?”

I was prepping for the photo said, “Yeah and I’m so so thankful. You have no idea.” 

Richard was all proud and piped up “Oh yeah! I remember that day and about your ex.”

He would remember because I met him in August and spilled everything back then. Rich was so cute when he said that like he was closer to me than the others. 

Like we had a secret the others didn’t have. 

It was funny to see how they all kinda competed over who remembered me and that game. When really it was probably Richard that recalled me most since I actually sat next to him and talked with him. 

Honestly there were too many hands holding my own and lips on my cheeks to remember who did what and where. 

But the first picture is taken. I remember a hand being outreached and I placed my own in it and whoever it was, gripped onto me tight. I got the photo and didn’t know I was holding Chris’ hand but damn, I felt loved.

FACTS THE BOYS SMELL WONDERFUL!!! 

During the first picture, I really felt like I was on a cloud or something. They were all so soft and I was being surrounded by cozy hoodies and warm bodies. 

I was hugging Richard again, he kisses my cheek. Richard consumes me like nobody’s business. 

I know Joel said “Wait! I remember that day.” 

I feel like Joel really wanted to be a part of the commotion and that was sweet.

Their videographer actually took photo or video of the basketball picture I brought them. 

Now it was my mom’s turn for her picture. Her first language is Spanish so she’s talking to the boys in Spanish like it’s no big deal. 

I’m standing between Joel and Richard. Richard turns to me like “Honestly, forget that N-word, I told you before.” 

And I said “Yeah, I know.” 

I appreciate Richard for the fact he’s ALWAYS taken the time to talk to me privately. 

Even if it’s just for a moment, a second, Richuki has always made me feel seen and heard. 

Back in August, even when they rushed him into the bus, he turned around to me to say “Move onto the next one.”

Then yesterday, as I was standing by him, he turns to me to reaffirm that I’ll be okay. 

That I can move on. 

My mom is talking in Spanish to Zabdiel and Erick, whom btw were mystified that my mom was speaking Spanish. I was watching Zabdiel’s face and he was tilting his head and nodding at my mom like she’s some sea creature at an aquarium. 

My mom says she felt the boys wanted to ask how she knew Spanish but didn’t know how to approach the question.  

As my mom is lining up for her picture, I asked Richard, “Can we do a proposal picture because that’s my mom?” 

So he’s like “Sure what do you want me to do?” 

Richard looked behind him and made sure there was enough room between him and Zab to actually do this photo. 

Quickly, he grabs my hand and gets down on one knee. 

I love how down he was for it. He didn’t hesitate or question anything, he just got to his knee and took my hands. 

If you look at the progression of the photos, it’s my smiling mom totally unaware that her daughter is aboutta get proposed to. Richard is a little blurry because he’s getting on his knee and I look genuinely surprised that it’s happening. 

Then my mom sees Richard, the second photo, and maybe it’s finally clicking.

The third photo, of course Richard is sticking his tongue out and my mom is hella shocked she just got a new son-in-law. 

Richard said: Her last ex fucked up but it’s okay because she upgraded 😛

It was everything I wanted. I was surrounded by all the men we love, my mom was there, and it was professionally taken!! 

Oh and as Richard was getting to his knee, the rest of the band, was making cooing noises. 

I remember Joel because he was right next to us, going like “oh woah. Woah. Woah.” Hence why he’s making those 😱 face.

I think he’s the one that gets asked to “propose” most or so I’ve seen from the pictures. That’s why I think for Richuki to do it, the boys support. 

Anyways, the boys are doing their typical hoot and holler. 

And I’m fucking giddy af. Like pretty sure I blacked out. Just seeing Richuki and feeling his hands hold mine was so unreal. 

They snap that photo and I’m absolutely so happy. 

My mom says “I was getting ready for the picture and suddenly I see him get on his knees so I’m shocked. I had no idea he was gonna do that.” 

Richard and Joel hug and kiss my cheeks again. We say, “bye” again. My mom goes to hug Richard and BYPASSES JOEL but Joel thought she was gonna hug him so I had to nudge her. Then she turns to Joel and they hug, it was actually cute.

Then security cuts off our bracelets and they say, “you should leave the photo for them.” 

So I wrote a little note and left it with them. 

If any of y’all get to meet them, my biggest advice is to have fun. You get back what you give into the M&G. It’s okay to be nervous but don’t let nerves run your experience. Be honest with them, talk about music, and just remember they’re people too. 

Also etiquette, don’t shove your hands down their pants or tongue in their throats. There are some poses that are obviously more comfortable for the boys than others. I know we all want that picture perfect shot but I saw some pictures and the boys weren’t totally themselves.  

That kind of discomfort translates into the final shot. 

Finally, I wanna always thank the boys for everything they’ve done. 

They helped me out of a bad relationship, they’ve given me a whole genre of music that’s extended my music library, and above all they gave me this CNCOwner family, that I couldn’t go a day without being a part of. 

I’m eternally grateful for everyone here 😘💕💕

[lasthalt-arch]

@saintswept​    said    :  T.hanatos was, by all means, not a nervous deity. Somewhere during his second & third century of watching over the deceased he had stopped being overly concerned for any of them. Which had quickly found its way into how he faced life in general. Then Z.agreus had come around & managed to quick every carefully crafted wall to dust. T.hanatos would like to hate him for that, but he did not, & that was the root of the issue he now faced.  So if he paced just a little up & down the hallway in front of the prince’s chambers, thanking whatever higher power was listening for his mother’s absence, then nobody should blame him for that. (& who would dare to, anyway?) & yet he knew the way he acted was childish at best, cowardish & ridiculous. Not that calling himself any of those adjectives motivated him to actually step over the threshold.  He did, in the end. Because he was certain the Shades had begun to whisper behind his back & while there was no concept of time in the House, he had been standing there for an uncomfortably long time. If this was what mortals experienced then T.hanatos had an inkling why men died for it. (T.hanatos was now also convinced he had lost his mind.) & when he did cross the border eventually, the sense of familiarity, of belonging that had nothing to do with the room itself, was overwhelming. The room was empty of course, which was a very likely possibility that only occurred to him now. Love evidently turned him stupid on top of insane. T.hanatos was patient, though, & eventually Z.agreus always returned. So he would wait, sitting cross-legged on Z.agreus mostly unused bed like he belonged there. Let his brother ship the prince back to the House when he died again. He deserved the uncomfortable silence of C.haron’s company, too. Served him right for trying to run away YET AGAIN.

      𝐿𝐼𝐾𝐸    𝐴    𝐷𝑂𝐺    𝐿𝐼𝐶𝐾𝐼𝑁𝐺    𝐼𝑇𝑆    𝑊𝑂𝑈𝑁𝐷𝑆    ,    𝑍𝐴𝐺𝑅𝐸𝑈𝑆    𝑆𝐼𝑇𝑆    𝑂𝑁    𝑇𝐻𝐸    𝐸𝐷𝐺𝐸    𝑂𝐹    𝑇𝐻𝐸    𝐵𝑂𝐴𝑇    𝐼𝑁    𝐷𝐸𝐹𝐸𝐴𝑇    .    head    hung    low    ,    arms    across    his    knees    .    the    rattle    of    c.haron’s    breath    not    much    of    a    pleasant    sound    .    he    watches    the    ferryman    lift    and    lower    the    oar    out    of    and    into    the    stygian    water    .    it’s    mesmerizing    .    well    ,    it    would    be    if    not    for    the    sting    of    death    still    lingering    in    his    spine    .    by    now    ,    dying    is    part    of    his    daily    life    .    at    least    he’s    got    the    luxury    of    being    able    to    sit    here    and    ride    home    in    silence    ,    or    be    ushered    back    to    the    house    by    t.hanatos    .    another    upside    :    c.haron    ,    in    his    endless    generosity    ,    does    not    demand    a    fee    for    internal    rides    .    or    maybe    the    fee    just    doesn’t    apply    to    him    .    after    all    -    defected    or    not    -    z.agreus    still    holds    the    title    of    prince    .    crownprince    ,    even    ,    if    there    was    ever    the    possibility    of    his    father    being    vanquished    for    good

    with    an    abrupt    wobble    ,    the    boat    comes    to    a    halt    .    now    ,    everything’s    silent    (    if    you    ignore    the    moaning    coming    from    the    ferryman    ,    not    much    unlike    the    deathrattle    of    mortals    )    .    a    gilded    hand    points    towards    the    surface    .    right    .    the    house    doesn’t    have    a    pier    .    with    a    thankful    nod    and    a    deep    breath    ,    z.agreus    simply    lets    himself    fall    over    the    edge    of    the    boat    and    into    the    river    styx    .    the    water    is    thick    and    heavy    .    were    he    not    so    certain    it’s    simply    stygian    water    ,    z.agreus    would    be    certain    it’s    blood    .    yet    ,    it    doesn’t    stain    his    clothes    .    the    dive    back    into    the    pool    feels    longer    with    every    new    attempt    .    when    he    eventually    does    emerge    from    the    pool    of    styx    ,    on    the    inside    of    the    house    ,    z.agreus    is    exhausted    .    tired    beyond    sleep    (    which    he    cannot    achieve    without    h.ypnos    anyway    )    .    speaking    of    -    after    wiping    the    last    of    the    red    water    off    his    skin    -    he    sees    exactly    the    same    as    always    .    h.ypnos    sleeping    on    the    job    .    mindlessly    ,    like    a    well    oiled    machine    ,    z.agreus    simply    passes    sleep    incarnate    with    a    tap    to    his    shoulder    .    he’s    checking    in    .    another    death    for    the    list 

    he    halts    before    the    throne    .    empty    .    just    like    the    padded    rug    next    to    it    .    they    must    be    waiting    for    him    in   the    temple    ,    still    .    a    gaze    is    cast    back    to    the    pool    .    the    shades    are    in    a    neat    line    ,    waiting    for    judgement    he    cannot    give    .    again    ,    z.agreus    looks    around    .    to    the    right    ,    n.yx    is    nowhere    to    be    seen    .    the    blue    flowers    seem    so    lifeless    without    her    presence    ,    to    grace    them    .    to    the    left    ,    he    spots    his    mentor    ,    floating    as    all    shades    do    .    he    raises    a    hand    in    greeting    and    in    return    earns    a    nod    .    they    got    nothing    to    discuss    .    still    ,    his    scorching    feet    move    towards    the    archway    of    the    west    hall    .    somewhere    off    to    the    side    ,    he    sees    shades    standing    around    one    of    the    statues    .    at    least    they’re    enjoying    the    decorations    .    that’s    not    his    reason    for    coming    here    .    the    actual    reason    ,    stuffs    another    defeat    down    his    throat    .    his    eyes    spot    an    empty    balcony    .    a    long    ,    but    silent    ,    sigh    leaves    him    .    he    keeps    moving    toward    the    balcony    .    it’s    only    then    ,    when    he    realizes    just    how    much    he’d    have    wanted    to    find    t.hanatos    standing    there    ,    as    he    has    done    so    rarely    these    past    few    attempts    .    with    his    arms    crossed    and    back    turned    towards    z.agreus    .    it’s    as    if    he    only    now    reflects    on    what    he    said    to    death    incarnate    ,    last    time    they    met    .    arriving    at    the    balcony    ,    z.agreus    puts    his    hands    on    the    banister    ,    lets    the    conversation    run    through    his    mind    again    and    eventually    rests    his    forehead    against    the    back    of    his    hands    .    (    you    fool    !    you    lovesick    fool    !    )    another    moment    passes    ,    another    sigh    leaves    .    none    the    matter    .    t.hanatos    isn’t    here    now    .    when    was    the    last    time    ,    they’ve    actually    met    ?    without    any    way    to    keep    track    of    time    ,    it    feels    like    an    eternity    .    a    horribly    draining    eternity    .    a    horribly    hollow    eternity    .    had    he    just    kept    quiet    ,    for    once    !    but    no    .    like    always    ,    his    emotions    got    the    better    of    him    ,    last    time    they    spoke    .    suddenly    ,    he’s    nervous    again    .    the    nag    in    the    back    of    his    head    returns    .    (    you    fool    !    absolute    fool    !    )    .    now    he’s    by    himself    on    the    balcony    ,    as    if    simply    standing    there    could    will    t.hanatos    into    existence    on    his    usual    spot

    what    is    he    actually    waiting    for    ,    though    ?    nothing    .    he’s    waiting    for    an    answer    that    won’t    arrive    .    what    must    a.chilles    think    of    him    ?    having    to    watch    him    mull    at    the    other    end    of    the    hall    .    were    the    ground    not    stone    ,    he    would    have    burned    a    foot    deep    mark    into    it    by    now    .    with    a    shove    ,    he    moves    away    from    the    banister    .    onto    another    round    of    his    highly    deadly    game    .    his    desperate    fight    for    freedom    and    the    immortality    he    once    lost    .    that    once    was    taken    from    him    .    not    with    slow    ,    but    thoughtful    steps    ,    he    moves    out    of    the    hall    and    towards    the    archway    of    his    chambers    .    he    has    to    cross    them    to    get    to    tartarus    .    (    one    more    round    we    go    )    .    however    ,    his    chamber    is    not    as    empty    as    he    imagined    it    to    be    .    as    empty    as    it    usually    is

        ❛       than    !      ❜        it    leaves    him    ,    almost    like    a    surprised    yelp    .    with    all    that    former    turmoil    .    did    he    actually    will    t.hanatos    into    existence    ?    no    .    unlikely    .    still    ,    it’s    a    weight    off    his    chest    .    at    least    before    the    one    on    his    shoulders    sets    in    .    threatening    to    crack    his    collarbones        ❛       come    in    .    make    yourself    comfortable      ❜        he    jests    to    cover    the    relieve    in    his    voice    .    t.hanatos    has    already    made    himself    comfortable    .    more    comfortable    than    z.agreus    will    ever    be    in    his    own    chambers    .    yet    ,    he    does    not    move    far    from    the    doorway    and    into    the    room        ❛       what    . . .    uh    . . .    what    brings    you    here    ?      ❜        he’s    preparing    for    heartbreak    .    mentally    preparing    for    the    shatter    of    a    nonexistent    heart

[inkedmyths]

The Final Battle

Because someone wanted me to write this in fic form. Your welcome.

Based on a certain conversation I had with @draconiswinters

"How much longer do you think they'll be at it?"

"Hylia only knows."

Sky and Hyrule were sitting on the edge of a clearing, watching the argument continue. Sky had the Master Sword laying across his lap, a precaution since the Darks were sitting across on the other side of the glade. No fighting had happened yet. Well, not as in sword fighting. Noble and Warriors, on the other hand, had been yelling at each other for the better part of an hour.

"This is the bitch-off to end all bitch-offs," Legend could be heard muttering on the other end of the group of heroes. Several murmurs of agreement echoed from the others.

-

Meanwhile, the Darks sat on the other edge of the large clearing. Eternal was pinching the bridge of his nose, likely contemplating exactly what life choices he had made that had brought him to this point. Why was he putting up with this whole situation again? Probably because he was frankly too tired to do anything about it. Everything was grating on his nerves. Maybe they should just leave Noble here.

Tempest was lying on his back, his feet propped up on a tree. "I'm bored," he whined, stamping a foot against the wooden trunk. "I want to do something!"

"How about shutting up?" Snapped Conqueror. The taller Dark was rather miffed at not being able to punch his Light counterpart due to the ongoing fight.

"If anyone should shut up, it's Noble," Tempest grumbled back. Eternal sighed internally. They'd been sitting around for a while. Everyone was growing restless.

-

Back on the other side of the clearing with the Lights, things weren't going much better. Wild was fidgeting a lot, and it was clear his was practically vibrating with pent-up energy. The others were similarly looking bored and uncomfortable. The whole situation was a bit awkward.

"So... anyone up for a game of Go Fish?" Hyrule offered. "I have a deck of cards."

"I am!" Wind hopped up from his formerly seated position and bounced over, plopping down beside the brunet hero.

"Sure." Four slid over.

Legend shrugged, joining them. "Why not?"

Sky moved down off the rock he was sitting on to join them. He glanced up at the three who had yet to join. "You guys want in?"

Time shook his head. "You kids have fun. I'm going to keep an eye on the situation."

Twilight also shook his head. "Wild needs something to do to let off some energy. I need to keep an eye on him." At that, Wild jumped up and scrambled up a nearby tree. He jumped down, then climbed up it again. Sky watched for a moment, then nodded and turned to the others gathered for the game.

Hyrule started dealing out cards. "Do you all know how to play?" The others nodded. "Good. That means we can start once I have everyone's cards passed out.

-

"What are they doing over there?" muttered Savage, eyeing the group of Lights gathered around each other.

"Cards, it looks like." Callous seemed disinterested, fiddling with a knife in his hands.

"Fools."

Tempest, meanwhile, was kicking the tree angrily. No one had done anything to satisfy his boredom. He hated them. And he hated being bored. He groaned, flipping over onto his stomach and burying his face into the ground. He continued to groan loudly.

"Would you stop that?" Conqueror snapped.

"But I'm boooooored!"

"If you're that bored why don't you go bother the Lights or something!"

Tempest made a face, but actually considered this. Looking over, he examined the heroes. He frowned when he saw the group gathered. They were actually doing something. He stuck his tongue out at Conqueror, then stood up and stomped over to the group.

-

"What are you all doing?"

Startled, the heroes looked up to see Wind's shadow standing behind them, arms crossed. "Uh... playing Go Fish?" Hyrule answered, too confused to bother being suspicious.

"Why do you care?" Legend questioned.

Tempest groaned in response. "I'm bored and nobody over there is actually doing anything."

The heroes exchanged looks. "Uh..."

"I bet I can beat you at Go Fish."

Everyone's heads whipped aroumd to face Wind, who was staring his shadow down. Tempest narrowed his eyes.

And sat down to join them.

"Deal me in," he said, glaring at Wind. Hyrule nervously glanced at Sky, who shrugged. So Tempest was dealt in. From there on out, the game got a good deal more heated.

"Gimme all your fives, alter-Ornament."

"Dammit," Legend grumbled, handing over two cards.

-

"Is he actually over there playing cards with them?" Eternal looked both incredulous and mildly infuriated.

Callous shrugged. "I suppose he really was bored, if he went seeking entertainment over there."

Conqueror rollled his eyes. "Brat. Hey Tempest! Having fun with the babies?" His yell echoed over that of Noble's and Warriors's. The small Dark turned around, glaring. "I hope they're going easy on you!"

"Why don't you shove your precious scarf down your throat, huh? I could kick your ass at this game!"

Conqueror laughed. "Like I would stoop so low. I won't get involved in some child's game."

Tempest's eyes narrowed. Then he smirked. "Wow, not even going to try? Scared?"

Conqueror froze. "What? No! Why would I be?"

"Because you're a coward."

He whirled around, eyes flashing. "Excuse me? I am not."

"The get over here and prove it, Barbie."

That was the last straw. Conqueror stormed over, and Four had to scramble out of the way to make room for the angry Dark. He sat down with a grunt. Eyes blazing, he held out a hand. "Deal me in."

"Here," said Four, handing him his cards. "I think I'm going to go join Wild with whatever he's doing." No one was really sure what Wild was doing, other than it involved a boomerang and an apple.

And thus began the most heated game of Go Fish in the history of just about ever.

-

After that, somehow or another the other Darks migrated to where the Lights were sitting. Legend, Acidic, Hyrule, Callous, Wind, Tempest and Conqueror were the ones playing cards at this point, though they had switched over to a game called Uno (which was even worse than Go Fish in this case). Shadow watched as Sky carved a figurine of a horse. Four was balancing three apples on his head while Wild took careful aim with a boomerang. Stygian watched the scene with disinterest, and Twilight looked on with concern and Savage in interested entertainment. Time and Eternal were leaning back against a rock, surveying the entire group along with the still arguing Noble and Warriors.

Time sighed as Warriors launched another rant at the same time Tempest yelled at someone for using a draw four. "I'm honestly not sure how much of this I can take."

Eternal was silent for a moment, then reached into his bag. He pulled out a tall bottle of vodka. "I think I'm too sober to put up with these idiots."

Time stared as he pulled out two shot glasses, filling both. This was a bad idea. He wasn't going to drink any of that. For one thing it was his shadow serving it, which meant there was a decent chance he was in danger. For another, it was completely irresponsible.

Then he heard Wind yell something about skips and the sound of something getting hit and Four's yelps, and decided that maybe a couple shots wouldn't hurt.

"Maybe we should have a drinking game." Eternal said, fingering his glads in his hand. "Something with those two over there."

Time considered this. "Take a shot every time Noble calls him a heathen."

"A specific word? That won't get us drunk nearly fast enough."

It was at that moment that Noble chose to screech "You absolute filthy heathen!"

Time smiled. "You sure about that?"

"Fair enough." Eternal downed his shot.

-

It was about three shots in when Twilight wandered over. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as he glanced between Time and his shadow. "So...uh, what are you guys doing?"

Eternal glanced up at him. "Drinking game."

Savage, who had followed Twilight over out of boredom, perked up curiously. "What kind?"

"Of alcohol or game?"

"Both."

Eternal held up the bottle. "We're taking a shot of vodka every time Noble says the word 'heathen'."

Savage sat down near Eternal's feet. "Mind if I join in? I could use a drink."

The older Dark reached into his bag for more shot glasses, glancing up at Twilight. "You in as well?"

Twilight knew this wasn't a good idea. He opened his mouth to say no, but stopped. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Wild readying some new hell-game up to play. He was too tired to deal with this. With a sigh, he nodded and held out his hand. Time handed him a shot glass, smiling sympathetically. He sat down next to Savage. "So... what's the game again?"

"Simple: each time Noble yells some variation of the word 'heathen', you take a shot."

"He can't say it that much," Savage said, raising an eyebrow as he settled back to watch the fight.

-

Wind stretched, then began wandering away from the group to stretch his legs. Tempest, who was similarly restless, followed. Those who were still playing cards were discussing what jungle rules to use in the next round.

Wind glanced over at Noble and Warriors, who were somehow still going. "How long until they get done do you think?"

"Only the gods know," Tempest said, shrugging. "Noble won't shut up for hours, so they could still be a while."

"You'd think by now they'd be- what in the name of Hylia is going on over there?"

"What? What are you talking about?" Wind gestured, and Tempest looked up to see where he was pointing to four certain people off to the side.

Twilight and Savage were leaning against each other's backs laughing loudly. Eternal was saying something over them, smirking. Time was reclining slightly, an easy smile playing across his lips.

"Is that what I think it is? In Eternal's hand?" Wind asked.

"Oh my goddesses they're drunk," Tempest murmured in wonderment.

"Holy shit."

"We have to go see this."

"Absolutely."

They quickly jogged over. Time was the first to notice their approach, and smiled at them. "Hello boys. Everything going alright?" Despite the fact that he had clearly been consuming a good amount of alcohol, he seemed to have retained most of his mental faculties.

"Fine," Wind said, doing his best to keep a straight face. "We just wanted to know what you guys were doing."

"Making poor life decisions!" Twilight grinned and raised his glass into the air. Savage laughed, raising his own as well. It was clear that they were both more than a little tipsy at this point.

Eternal chuckled, raising his own glass. "As it turns out, Noble days heathen quite a bit. Perfect drinking game."

Wind nodded. "Okay, cool. Have fun." He started walking away, but Tempest grabbed his wrist, forcing him to stop.

"Hey, wait a minute. I'm super bored and this seems like fun. I say we grab my bottle of rum and join in."

Wind considered this, then shrugged, grinning. "Sure, why not? It's not like we have anything better to do."

Undet normal circumstances, Time and Twilight would most definitely not allow the fourteen year-olds to drink alcohol, especially Wind (despite his having encountered it plenty of times before on his pirate adventures). However, even Time was a little too tipsy to notice that issue. If Eternal noticed the problem, he didn't care.

-

"Oh my Farore, who let the fourteen year-olds have alcohol?"

All heads in the group of card players turned at Hyrule's exclamation. Their eyes were met with the sight of Wind and Tempest laughing with a bottle of what was almost certainly rum.

"Oh my goddesses," Sky murmured, hand hovering over his mouth in horror.

Legend took the scene in. The two weren't the only ones consuming alcohol; there was a party going on over there. He stood up. Hyrule glanced at him, surprised.

"Legend?"

"If they get to do it, so can I." There was no way he was missing out on this opportunity.

"Oh hell yeah." Acidic stood up as well. "Fuck the rules, let's take some shots."

"Wait you guys I really don't think that's a good idea-"

"Nonsense." Callous cut Hyrule off. "It's a fantastic idea. I'm on board with this. Way better than a card game."

"Shit dude, there's booze? Sign me the fuck up." Conqueror too abandoned his cards to stand up.

Sky frowned up at them. "I really don't think this is a good idea..."

However, his opinion went ignored in favor of joining the shots party.

-

Noble and Warriors finally stopped arguing sometime later. They both were gasping for air, vocal chords dry from their yelling match. After a moment, Warriors looked up and realized everyone had moved. He turned around, and his eyebrows shot up. "What the actual fuck happened?"

Noble looked up, glaring, but his eyes widened in surprise when he saw what Warriors was talking about. "I... what all manner of hells?"

They walked up to the group that had gathered, looking over the scene before them. It looked like several people were passed out, most of the others varying states of half-conscious.

"Is that... alcohol?" Noble looked disgusted.

"What the hell did we miss?"

Off to the side, Stygian rolled his eyes. "They all got bored waiting for you morons to finish bitching at each other." The others who were sober, Wild, Shadow, Four, Sky and Hyrule, nodded.

Warriors looked at him incredulously. "So they went and got drunk?"

"Pretty much," Hyrule said.

Noble made a face. "Absolute heathens."

Groans and drunken laughter met this statement. "Take a shot!" Legend cackled.

[areyouactuallystupid]

10 Words/Phrases Game

Rules: list 10 words/phrases that have something to do with your work(s) in progress and then tag 10 people to do the same.

Both @missroserose and @imneithernor tagged me on this one, and it’s long past due I gave some updates, anyway. I don’t care about rules, so I’m gonna share some excerpts that I like a lot, rather than just words or phrases. And it may not quite be ten. 

Buckle in, kids!

1.)  Steve thinks they kiss in the dark for an eternity before he pulls back. “What do you think this is?” 

“Hell if I know, Harrington.”

Steve doesn’t say, I’ve got a plan for us. Steve doesn’t say, you’re my ticket outta here. He doesn’t say, I’ve been watching you. 

No. That last part, Billy says for him, a smoky baritone: “But I know you’ve been watching me. Coming to all these parties like you weren’t too good for them two months ago. Licking your lips every time a girl rubs her pussy on my thigh.” 

----

2.) She pins Steve with her eyes, nails him right to his own cross. He’s been here so many times, but there’s never been such obvious evidence against him. Billy wears Steve’s handiwork like a walking billboard for delinquency. He opens his mouth to do the thing he never does: confess.

“It was my fault, ma’am,” Billy blurts, no trace of that demon’s smirk on his face now. No, now he’s all blue eyes and soft curls, all deference and regret. “We were just horsing around and it got out of hand. I’m really sorry. But,” and he brightens here, posture straightening, leaning in. He nudges Steve’s knee, a silent ‘play along.’ “Stevie and I worked it out. Didn’t we, Stevie?” 

Steve looks at him, at the steady fire behind Billy’s eyes, and thinks Billy knows. He knows why Steve left the party so quickly and he knows what Steve confessed all those months ago and he knows what Steve did. He knows. The heat that flashes in Steve’s gut has to be fear. But even if Billy isn’t giving Steve an olive branch, he’s giving him an out, and Steve isn’t stupid enough to turn it down. So he licks his lips, dredges up a smile, and aims it at Miss Peters.

----

3) Steve is the one with bites oozing blood down his forearm, but somehow Billy is the one who looks pained, squinting into the fluorescent lighting of his own clinic like he’s wondering who allowed it to be installed in the first place. “You’re bleeding all over my floor,” Billy says, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him even though they’re the only two people in the entire building. He shoves Steve - like, actually shoves him - onto the examination table, paper cover crinkling as Steve falls onto it.

With a grin, Steve says, “Someone interrupt your nap, Sleeping Beauty?”

“Nap?” Billy says, slamming a cupboard door open hard enough to make some of the tools on the little counter rattle in their trays. “It’s three in the goddamned morning.” He doesn’t even look at Steve, just starts pulling things out and practically hurling them into place.

----

4) “You know,” Tommy says, waving the joint in front of his own face, creating his own smokescreen. On the tv across from them, the hero in the movie is kissing the girl he just saved. Something explodes in the background. Tommy doesn’t look at him. “You know, I fucked Billy Hargrove.”

----

5) It’s Wheeler, of all goddamned people, who tries to convince Billy to go. 

“You’re smart, Billy,” she says, waving the essay she had to peer review for English in his face like it’s proof. 

Billy shrugs, tipping his chair back onto two legs even though the teacher politely asks him not to every single day. He’s waiting for the day she snaps. “Not interested.”

“Why not?” Wheeler plows on. And Billy doesn’t know when she started giving a shit. She knows he’s with Harrington now, knows that he actually has something to stick around for, and now she’s suddenly gung-ho for Billy to fuck off to college. She slaps the paper down on his desk, only one suggestion tucked into the margin in neat cursive. Actually, if he squints, Billy thinks it reads: What the fuck, Hargrove? 

Billy slams the chair back onto all four legs, startling everyone in the class except Wheeler. Girl’s got a spine of iron, he’ll grant that. “Not your business, sweetpea.” 

But even in the face of his most unnerving grin, Wheeler doesn’t falter. “Let me guess. You’re going to become a mechanic or something, be decent at it but never really great, work for fifty years in a hot and filthy garage until you get lung cancer and can’t afford treatment, then die a slow, painful death with nobody remembering a single thing about you. Sound about right?”

“Jesus, Wheeler.” At some point Billy had started tapping his pencil. Now he stops. Chews on what she’s said. It’s not far off what he’d been intending for after school, really. What he’s most shocked at is the sheer volume of words, though; she barely speaks to Billy on a good day. Not that they hate each other with the fervor they used to, but Steve is their sole mutual interest and also the one thing neither of them wants to open up about to each other. Therefore, no hablan mucho.

----

6) The “Welcome to Hawkins” sign flashes in Billy’s headlights. Merry fucking Christmas, Billy thinks, ignoring the churning in his gut, the chill up his spine. There’s always been something wrong with this town, something in the air or the dirt or the water, he’s sure, but he hasn’t had to think about for years. He’d left this hellhole before the ink had dried on his diploma, walked across that stage and right out the fucking door, keys in hand. Threw the cap and gown in the trashcan on his way, hung the tassel on his rearview mirror, tossed the diploma on top of the Chicago University acceptance letter, and peeled out of the parking lot with a squeal so sharp he hopes it interrupted the principal still droning alphabetically through the “H”s. 

He hadn’t necessarily wanted to become a lawyer, but he’d wanted to prove something, and he couldn’t think of anything more prestigious than law. He’d considered medical school, but even doctors need lawyers, right?

So he’d gone to school, scraped and clawed his way to the top, pushed until he saw “Hargrove Law” in gleaming, gold letters on a brick background. “Brick,” Neil used to say, “is classic. Never goes out of style. Lasts forever if you take care of it.” There was something funny about Neil talking about taking care of anything, and maybe the irony made it stick. 

Billy cranks the window down, lets the cool humidity of a summer night flood the cab, the taste of cow shit and dirt along with it. Fucking Indiana. Cornfield after cornfield, hour after hour, made Billy impatient to get here, but now he fights not to turn the car around and drive all the way back to his exposed-brick and glass apartment. 

----

7) His hand grips Billy’s chin, forces him to look in Steve’s eyes. Smiling, Steve leans forward, lips brushing Billy’s ear. “I wanna fucking tear you apart.”

 The shudder rips through Billy so hard it rattles Steve’s teeth, the goosebumps spreading down his chest like a cascade. When Steve leans back, he sees the moment that Billy realizes it’s not a euphemism, not an exaggeration: eyes widening, throat working on a swallow, chest stuttering with breath.  And then Billy fights. He fought, before Steve got him here, but not like this. That was business, surprise and hesitation and clean hits. One unclean hit to take him down. This is different. Desperation. Nails and teeth and thrashing and, “Get off, get off, fuck you, get off!” A crescendo that breaks at the end. 

Steve feels the hits, the gouges, but they don’t hurt him. He waits, holds Billy by his hair until he either wears himself out or realizes it’s not working. It’s not going to work, no matter how stained his nailbeds, black with the poison under Steve’s skin. 

“Please, Harrington. Steve, please,” he says, one hand clenched over Steve’s. 

 “It’s good, when you say his name,” Steve’s mouth says. “He feels it, that way.”

----

8) Silence. But Billy can hear them all looking at each other, so he continues: “Do you know how much blood you have to lose to pass out? Thirty percent. You know how much you can lose before you go into a coma and die? Like forty percent. And he passed out ten minutes ago. So which one of you dipshits know how to do a blood transfusion?” He’s maybe fudging the numbers a little bit, but he’s not making it up entirely. He knows passing out, in terms of injuries, is no bueno, and not taking Steve to the hospital is probably the same as killing him at this point.

More silence. Billy bears down on the gas pedal. 

Solemnly, Mike says, “He knew the risks,” and then makes to lunge for the wheel again. With a hand on his face, Billy shoves him back, hard. He also just happens to glance into the rearview mirror in time to catch Dustin’s expression: horror, betrayal, sickness. Everyone knows that he’s Steve’s little duckling, but Billy didn’t know it ran so deep, that he and Steve were --what?-- actually friends? Billy’s not about to ask, but he doesn’t need to because Little Byers pipes up: “Steve wouldn’t’ve had to risk anything if we hadn’t gone to the lab in the first place.”

He might not have the full story, but Billy knows enough --knows Maxine well enough-- to know that the kids had gone somewhere they shouldn’t have and caused a whole lot of trouble for everyone. That’s their modus operandi, it seems, and Billy’s just happy that he’s not the only one having a real shitty time because of it.

----

9) Steve learns three things about Billy in about five seconds, or the time it takes for them to exchange the ball twice: 1. Billy has a hell of an arm. His throws come in with bruising force, even when Steve can tell Billy’s not trying to be an asshole by taking his hand off. He has the aptitude of an outfielder, capable of getting the ball from the fence to the cutoff or farther. It’s ridiculous, but maybe not that surprising. Steve knows how hard Billy can pass a basketball, after all. 2. Billy’s reflexes are nuts. He’s maybe shorter than most of the guys their age Steve knows in Hawkins, but he’s quick, blue eyes tracking and alert and body in perfect tune with what Billy tells it to do. Honestly, Billy drops the ball a lot, but he’s always there, squared up to it perfectly, glove in the right spot. 3. Billy is capable of shutting his damn mouth for several minutes at a time. With his concentration on the ball, he hardly says anything, and Steve feels like he’s made some kind of major scientific breakthrough, like he should write it down, put it in a book called “So You’ve Met Billy Hargrove: Ten Tips and Tricks for Survival.”

That’s all, folks! Sorry for the long post!

I tag: @desert-dino @eternalgoldfish @junipertreehouse @thehowlingalpha and anyone else who wants to participate! (It’s lots of fun to go through older wips and reread, honestly)

[fogboundsurvivor]

No Mither

No Mither

NSFW Fanfic by D. Johansson

David worked at the generator tirelessly, fumbling with the wires inside. He was so dead tired of running. His friends had already fallen and for whatever reason the escape shoot had not appeared for him. It was as if the Entity wanted to be an extra bitch on this cold night in Haddonfield. He tapped the wires together, hoping to make a spark, which he did, but only made the generator jump and let out a loud noise. It sputters and dies. He curses inwardly.

Ghostface stalked David from the shadows, crouched down and in Night Shroud. He could tell this particular iteration of David was different from the last. This one had a beard and he definitely didn't seem to know his way around the generator. He had already had his way taking down all of the other 3 survivors in the trial but was surprised to see that this David didn't even seem to know that. This sent an excited chill down Ghostface's spine, he was going to enjoy this. He would go about scrapping a knife against the wall, making a noise loud enough for David to hear but not know the source of.

David gulps...and moves toward an open window, but the window’s paneling comes undone and he falls backwards with a grunt. He looks up at the window and sees that it’s been blocked off by the entity. He was confused, but he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise when he heard the sound of a knife dragging against a wall. He made a move for another window, only for the entity to block it off to. He turns to the doorway..

To find that there was nothing there.

There was a moment of pure silence before suddenly David was grabbed from behind, a knife's point immediately being pressed against his neck.

"Gotta be quicker than that, Davey boy! The Entity doesn't like any slow poke survivors."

The Ghostface's voice was giddy, like he had caught a mouse in a trap that wasn't dead quite yet. Oh he couldn't wait to do all the things he wanted to do to this David

“Wait...Wait...please don’t.” David pleads, eyes darting for anything he could use. His own heart was in his throat. He could just faintly smell the vaguely minty breath of his captor. And also some rather fragrant cologne. Guess the killer wanted David to know he was there. David tried to get out of his grip.

“Oh I'm not going to kill you just yet. I've been a good little boy so the Entity said you're free for me to do what I want before I send you back to another campfire."

When he noticed the struggling, he would go forward with making a slight cut on the neck that wasn't fatal but also sent the point across that if he struggled it would only make things worse.

“Maybe if you're a good sport, I'll let you escape. Just got to play along and don't be a brat."

David grits his teeth and slowly puts his hands up* “What do you want with me...?” *David asks quietly, he was afraid to make another move, he could feel blood trickling down his neck, staining his black undershirt.

“You Davids have been running me rabid all damn day. With your altruism, getting in the way of hits and always being there to help your survivor friends on the hook."

The hand that was previously twisting one of David's arms in an uncomfortable position moved away to grab the man's ass.

“You help me vent my frustration and the hatch is all yours."

David’s eyes widened at the grab..and he shuddered. Partly due to fear...and partly due to the first stirrings of arousal. He shook the later thought away. Nobody’s touched him in god knows how long.....

”No.” He told himself. This was a killer. Who just murdered his friends. That took away the arousal and he heard Ghostface click his tongue

“I’m...sorry.” David said...trying to keep him talking.

"Oh, David. You have no idea how excited that makes me. An unwilling participant this late into the game is so much fun."

Ghostface sounded disappointed in the beginning of that but it turned into excitement very late into it.

“Thank you for this opportunity."

With that, Ghostface would move the hand off of his ass and onto his shoulder. With his far superior strength granted by the Entity, Ghostface basically sprinted forward with David coming along for the ride. It would go on for a moment before Ghostface came to a stop, only he let David go. He let David go right into a freefall down the staircase to the basement, Ghostface finding a sick thrill out of watching David ragdoll down to the landing in the stairs.

David groans and yelps when he hits the bottom. He could tell that his ankle was definitely broken. He turns and crawls for the front door, before being blocked by the body of Dwight. His shirt and pants had been sliced open and his face had a used condom thrown ontop of it. Along with a Polaroid photo of...Ghost face facefucking him. David, grabbing the wall, pushed himself to his feet and he stepped over the violated body of Dwight and limped into the street. He made it to the cop car and went around it, sliding to the floor and looking over the hood. He could see Ghostface walking out of the house. A predator in its element. He was definitely doubting his chances of the hatch at this point. He looked to his already bruising ankle and let out a quiet moan of pain. Trying to stifle the sound by breathing through his nose.

“Bastard...” David whispers to himself. He looks back at his ankle then back towards the Myer’s House. Ghostface was gone and David felt himself turn pale. Panicked now, he limped into a side yard.. a hedge park by the looks of it. several rows of park benches lied within. He sat himself down slowly by a hedge and took off his jacket and shredded it. Trying to make some bindings for his ankle. What he didn’t hear was the click of a camera just out of the way..

There was Ghostface, looking at the slowly developing polaroid in his hand. He seemed to be enjoying himself, chasing after the injured David.

“Wow, David. Getting too excited and ruining all the fun for me? I wanted to tear up the jacket myself."

He would walk over and kick the man over, getting him down onto his back before he would go to step down firmly on David's crotch, hard enough to cause some mild pain but not too hard just yet.

"You like what happened to Dwight? Little nerd did better than I thought. Better than Jeff and Jake, that's for sure."

David groaned as his head hit the grass, he felt Ghostface pressing a boot into his crotch and let out a whimper. He looked up at him, trying not to let his fear express onto his face.

“You..did that to all of them?” David asks.

"Well, why not look for yourself?"

He tossed down two polaroids for David to look at.

One was of Jake, he had been caught just as he finished sabotaging a hook and Ghostface had kicked him down right as the hook fell down, right on Jake' poor leg. The picture had Jake with his eyes rolled back as he was taking Ghostface from behind.

Next was two for Jeff who was currently suffering a similar fate. He was mid chase when he accidentally leaped a window right as Ghostface did. Thanks to Ghostface running Bamboozle, Jeff was effectively stuck in the window. The first polaroid was of Jeff's backside, flooding after a few uses and the other polaroid was his front side, his hair being the only visible identifier as his face was completely coated.

“They're nice photos. I took them myself."

David’s eyes widened and his chest heaved. He tried to move backwards, pushing with his good leg, but Ghostface’s boot on his crotch kept him in place. The pictures of his friend’s stretched open holes and the subsequent demises fresh in his head. He turned to look away, before laying flat on the ground.

“When they entity took me in, they told me I could have anything I desire as long as I killed you fools for it."

There was an unzip before Ghostface would move his foot away, leaning over to grab a handful of David's hair before sitting him up. He would sit him up so David could be meet face to face with Ghostface's massive cock.

“I told it I wanted this. I get to have my fun and the entity gets it's sacrifices. Quite the equivalent exchange."

David felt it against his face and he blushed a little. The man’s cock was massive...much, much bigger than he’s ever seen. He felt a little emasculated by the size of it. He looked up pitifully at Ghostface.

“You’re huge..” David said quietly...feeding Ghostface’s ego.

“How about we strike up that deal now? You take this to the hilt from both ends, and the hatch is all yours. If you reject it now, I'll do it anyways before I shove you on that hook."

He would cock slap David. Seeing the normally confidant David suddenly made into a whimpering bitch felt amazing. He loved it so much and couldn't wait to feel this again with other Davids later on.

David always thought he was straight...until he was pulled into the realm of the entity that drunken night. He spends what felt like eternity of lonely escapes before he ended up surviving with Jeff one trial. The two met back at the camp fire and Jeff asked David if he wanted to talk about the trial..David reluctantly agreed. It ended with Jeff going for the first kiss... then introducing David to the first pierced cock he’d ever seen, licked, sucked and taken.

David closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, before nodding. He looked up at him and opened his mouth wide, licking the tip of his captor’s cock.

A flash would appear in David's face, Ghostface taking a picture for memories sake. He had to show the other killers he never messed around after all.

“Got it for publicities sake, anyways go faster." Ghostface demanded, and its all David would get before Ghostface would move forward and part of his cock was shoved into David's mouth.

David took it a step further, taking as much of the cock he could down his throat. Tears running down his face and he bobbed his head onto it, one hand going up to fondle the large set of balls underneath the monster cock as well. He gagged and saliva ran down his chin and as worked the cock as aggressively as he could. Trying to get the ordeal over with. Hoping if he came...maybe he wouldn’t violate him further.

Ghostface would grab his head to make him stop, in order make him look up at him.

“Remember our deal, the whole thing has to go in that mouth David."

He would let go in order to let him proceed.

David tries his best, struggling to get down to the hilt of his cock. He gets onto his knees and feels a mix of salvia and pre cum fall out of his mouth. He gets frustrated and grunts, trying to take it further. He ends up choking and letting the cock slide out of his throat as he gags on air and sputters. His vision swimming from the coughing fit.

“Got 10 seconds. Start now! 1..2...3.."

Ghostface gave David 10 seconds to get a nice breath before he gets back to work on his cock. He had plans later, like gloating to Joe's smug mask about how much better of a killer Ghostface was.

David goes in for it again, only gagging immediately. He whines in defeat before looking up at Ghostface pleadingly.

“Please..I can’t do it...” David admits..face red from both embarrassment and effort. He lays on his back and spreads his big thighs apart “Please...just fuck me...use me...just don’t kill me like the others..” He whined.

“I’ll be good...so good...please.” David begs, tears running down his face.

Ghostface would go around back to his mouth.

“Oh don't be a fucking bitch David! You're going do it whether you like it or not!"

He would grab his head and in one quick motion, shove his cock in and jam the entire thing down his throat. He knew the Entity would make it to where David would only dry heave and he knew the Entity was above allowing asphyxiation being a cause of death here. He would hold him for a few seconds before letting go of David.

David sputters and chokes on air...feeling his throat get throughly resized. After realizing he couldn’t choke to death, he grabs Ghostface’s cock and shoved it down his throat pushing Ghostface’s hips towards his face as if to say “Use my mouth.”

As sick as it was David was kind of turned on by being used like a slut by someone stronger than him...perhaps that’s why he enjoyed fighting and violence. The pain always was his drive...

He felt drool slides down the sides of his mouth as the spit and throat slicked cock pumped in and out his mouth. His lips were bruised and cracking at the strain.

"I was planning on sending you back to the campfire with a souvenir. My cum all over and inside your pathetic body."

It was rare that Ghostface broke someone and it was extremely rare that it was a David. This was getting far more interesting. He was going to make sure everyone at that camp fire knew exactly what happened here.

David could feel Ghostface’s balls rest on his face. He pulled off the monster cock and sucked and licked on them, stroking the massive cock above him...he even got bolder and went to give Ghostface’s hole a sloppy lick. He was lost...hopeless and wanting to please the man that held his current fate in his hands... He tongued his hole and then went back to furiously and sloppily sucking on his monster cock. His ankle throbbed and he was getting covered in various viscous layers of saliva. David’s rebellious attitude was lost..only a cock hungry slut remained. He wanted to please his captor so bad...he felt the tears still running down his face but he didn’t care anymore. He just wanted to live and pleasing this monster was his only way out. That did not fly so well with Ghostface. He would force David off his cock and would pick him up and slam him down bent over a picnic table.

“That wasn't in our little deal, Davey.... I guess you can't teach a dog to listen. The hatch never opened, Davey. Your chance of escape was done the moment you fell down those stairs. Might as well enjoy what happens next before you go back to the campfire." Ghostface taunted.

He would line up with David's hole and without even giving him a moment to brace himself before just shoving inside of David. He had some mercy before but this was nothing held back. If only David had listened.

He could feel Ghostface trying to penetrate him through his sweatpants and he let out a startled chuckle. “Think I may need to lose the pants before ya do that..” David taunts. Since his fate was sealed, he felt adrenaline pump through his veins.

There a moment before a knife came down directly down on David's back, narrowly missing his spine or anythint vital, before it would go back to cut open his pants and boxers.

“You want to be a little shit huh? I'll show you want little shits like you deserve."

With that, the hilt of the blade would go up David's ass without any sort of grace or theateric Ghostface was known for.

David howled at the sudden penetration. He could feel it go about four inches inside before being stopped by the guard of the blade. He let out a groan, leaning into the table. He could feel the cold air around his as his muscular ass, balls and limp cock were exposed to the air.

“Motherfucker...ahh...shit...” David spat out.

“I was going to make it quick but bitch decided he wanted to do slowly."

He was not happy, he'd reach in his coat to pull out another knife. He'd pin David's head down before he would very roughly cut away at his beard, with sense of caution or percision when it came to it.

David watched his facial hair hit the table sadly. He was really enjoying his beard...he felt humiliated as he could feel his hole tighten around the hilt of the blade. He shifted his position slightly and moaned quietly as the hilt rubbed against that spot inside him. His face and ass both felt raw now. “Fuck....I’ve...been bad.” David groans into the table.

He would grab his hair and pull his head up, getting semi close face to face.

“You're damn right." Ghostface whispered huskily into his ear.

The knife would come down to pin David's right hand to the table before Ghostface went to the back, removing the knife before lining up with his cock instead. With the same amount of mercilessness, he would shove his cock inside of David.

David lets out a bloodcurdling scream as he feels his hand get pinned to the table. Before he has time to process that, he feels all 13 inches of Ghostface’s thick cock tear open his abused hole. He lets out a painful yelp and groan before feeling his legs turn to jelly. Ghostface would thrust with wreckless abandon as he mostly did it for the sake of punishing David at this point. Even though every wound on David was going to disappear after the trial was over, he wanted to make sure David was going to remember the pain for a very long time. David looked down and he could swear he could see Ghostface’s cock rearrange his guts through his stomach. He swore he could see it poke the flesh of his belly from within. He felt sick...but he felt the thick member continue to hit places inside David he didn’t know he had. He cried out again...his eyes wet and swollen as he felt his own cock swell with arousal...all this pain was beginning to feel way too good to him. “You’re going into shock.” He tried to remind himself to no avail.

“Fuckme....fuck...me....please...god hurt me...” He moans out.

"I'm going to ruin you, David. I want to make sure that nobody is going to make your ass feel as stretched as I make it tonight. Everytime your whore ass tries to take someone smaller, you'll remember me."

He had no doubt in his mind that nobody else the Entity had in their grasp came close to his size. This was going to be David's torture, the constanty longing for Ghostface's cock that he'll never feel again. It was going to be so sweet. “God...I can...feel you so deep...!” David says, and pushes back into Ghostface’s cock and arches his back. Taking the punishment with vigor now. He could feel his hard cock rubbing against the rough wood of the bench now. He was lost in lust now. He knew Ghostface was ruining his hole, and he loved every second of it...maybe after this he would get the guys to run a train on his so he could try to feel this kind of deep, unrelenting pain again.

Ghostface would go for what felt like forever, using whatever ungodly stamina the Entity had given him. Ghostface has already had a plan for after the trial. It took thousands of perfect trials, gritting his teeth through Mettle of Man, Borrowed Time, and Adrenaline on survivors or purple rarity flashlights to get 4 Kills for it.

He begged the Entity and he got it. The survivors of this trial were being sent to a different campfire, one where Ghostface or any killer he allows can enter, and use the four broken mindless slut survivors.

David was half collapsed onto the table, broken and a groaning mess. He had already cum twice onto the bench seat and his balls were swollen beyond belief. He was just waiting for the sweet release of death and Ghostface at this point. He could barely feel his hole anymore, only the massive sex organ rearranging his guts inside. He wondered how much energy Ghostface had left at this point..

Ghostface would slam to hilt inside of David before he came deep into the quote unquote survivor. It was massive and it felt so nice to get another load off for the end of the trial for Ghostface. He'd pull out and let it flood out, similar to the backside of Jeff polaroid.

“Well thanks for playing this game, David."

Finally, Ghostface would pull out his knife from David's hand.

David whimpered at the knife being pulled out and sunk into the table, he could feel the cum pushing its way out of his abused hole.

“Do it....finish me off...” David says quietly, pressing his forehead into the table.

“Gladly." The Killer says,

With a flash of his blade, he would raise it up and then....

David would open his eyes to find himself back at the campfire.

“Holy shit...” David says, feeling his face to find his beard miraculously still there. He looked around to see Jake, Jeff and Dwight all sitting there quietly staring at him.

“What?” He asks, before he feels a gallon of cum slide down his leg. “Oh fuck...that was..”

“Real?” Jeff finishes.

David lets out a soft whimper as he strips out of the pants and cleans himself off. He throws the remains in the fire and watches it burn. He pulls on some track pants and shudders.

He silently wonders what the hell did it mean.

[justanotherdumbfanfictionbl-blog]

Sadness

It was just supposed to be another shitty day at Riverdale High but your world is turned upside down when the schools bad boy and the captain of the football team both take an interest in you. What will you do? Go after the loner you’ve liked your whole life or will the captain steal your attention?

Sadness - Chapter 3 // C1 // C2

After Party

I really need to learn how to say no, you think to yourself, scanning the living room full of sweaty teenagers, beer spilling out of red plastic cups as music blares throughout the house, Kevin nowhere to be seen. Within seconds of you turning up to the already roaring party he vanished into the crowd, clocking one of the football players, leaving you to lean against the wall alone, cheap beer in hand. Occasionally glancing at the door, you consider making a break for freedom, nobody would notice and Kevin’s gone anyway so there isn’t really any point in you being there. 

Right as you’re about to head for the exit you hear a voice calling your name, you sigh, letting out a quiet “shit” as you close your eyes for a second before turning in the direction of the voice, it’s Archie, smiling as he weaves through the crowd to get to you. Taking a step forward you give him a small smile back, “you’re here!” he declares whilst approaching you, matching red cup in hand, you nod “that I am, as are you” Archie lets out a nervous laugh before sipping some of his beer, looking around with eyebrows raised, scanning his brain for a conversation starter. “That final score was pretty good and very close” you spoke after a moment of silence, putting enthesis on very, “Yeah, I was terrified I was gonna fuck up” he chuckles and nods as you do the same “it was a good game though, even if I didn’t exactly know what was going on” you admit, looking to the ground as embarrassment settled in, “most people don’t, they just follow the crowd” he shrugs, attempting to make you feel better and it works. 

The two of you continue to talk, smiling and laughing as you occasionally take sips of beer, the stale bitter taste stinging the back of your throat. “Hey I was wondering” the red-head pipes up but before he could finish the front door swings open, a tall slim figure stands in the doorway, covered by the darkness. Everyone stops and stares, wondering who it was making such an entrance, they take a step forward, letting the light of the hallway reveal there soft fair skin. It was Jughead Jones. You couldn’t help but crack a smile, he finally came, you thought as you bit your lip in an attempt to hold back the enthusiasm, both he and Archie noticed the smile. Jug smirked, sending a wink your way as Archie scowled, pissed off that another guy has your attention. You quickly look to the floor, your face heating up again as eyes began to burn holes in your head, after a few seconds you look back up at Archie, as his eyes follow Jug towards the kitchen, a pissed off expression spread across his face. 

“Excuse me, everyone. SHUT UP!” Cheryl screeched as she stood on the coffee table, demanding everyone’s attention, the music went quiet as she smiled, happy to have all eyes on her. “Welcome to my home and as always iconic after party, now that we’re all here and have had time to get to know each other” she sneers, blatantly staring at you and Archie, causing others to look, “let's play a game of truth or dare” she smirks as the crowd of tipsy teens cheer around her. You roll your eyes, wanting no part in this, as if you had a choice. “Let's start with...” she trails off looking around the room before making direct eye contact with you, don’t you fucking dare you think as she grins, raising a perfectly plucked brow, “Y/N, truth or dare?” You let out a sigh, mumbling a small “fuck” as everyone around you eagerly awaits your response, you hesitate for a moment, “dare” immediate regret floods your body as your classmates stare, stunned at your bold choice. “I dare you...” she thinks for a moment, the plump red lips flattening as her eyes wander off to the corner of the room, anxiety filling your body as seconds feel like hours, “I dare you to spend 7 minutes in heaven with the hobo” she declares, the grin re-appearing on her face as everyone around you, Archie included, stare at you, wide-eyed and mouths agape. You scowl, brows scrunched together this fucking bitch you think as Jughead slowly re-emerges for the kitchen, a shit-eating grin smeared across his smug little face as he waits for your response, just like the rest of them. 

With a sigh you admit defeat, knowing you don’t have much of a choice, you make your way towards the coat closet, Jug not far behind. The crowd of teens chanting, you roll your eyes and wish the world would swallow you hole, sure you’ve had a crush on him for as long as you remember but this isn’t exactly what you had planned for the first time you were ever alone with the bad boy. Stepping into the small room you turn to find Jug inches away, smiling down at you, “I’m starting the timer, don’t get too dirty will you” Cheryl coo’s, closing the door as the crowd behind her cheers again and you’re left alone with the raven-haired boy. 

Time slowly ticks by as you both stand there silently, avoiding eye contact, unsure of what to do for the next eternity. “I knew Cheryl was a bitch but this is next level” Jug speaks, in an attempt to break the tension, you nod, not sure what to say, you’ve never actually spoken to him before and now that you’ve got the chance, you’re tongue-tied. “She does love a bit of chaos” you manage to say, glancing around the room at old board games on the shelves and expensive coats hanging from hooks, he chuckles, the sound fills your stomach with butterflies. 

“I see you around the school and I see you looking at me but we’ve never properly met, I’m Jughead” he introduces himself, you stand there, stunned for a moment. “Yeah, I know, you’re the schools designated bad boy” you tease, taken back by your sudden burst of confidence, “oh really?” he asks with a grin, taking a step forward as you take one back, you nod sheepishly before taking another step back, he follows, pressing you up again the wall. Fur coats begin to cover your body as you take a quick glance at his shiny lips, he notices, the grin growing, you swallow the lump in your throat, not sure what the fuck you’re supposed to do. He can see you’re nervous, licking his lips as you hold your breath, unable to move, think or even speak. “Do I make you nervous?” he teased knowing damn well he does, “no, fuck no!” you bite back, taking a step forward, forcing him to take one back. Raising an eyebrow, he tilts his head to the left, leaning in close “oh, really?” he asks, his hot breath brushing your face as your knee’s turn to jelly, “er, well, er” you mumble, panic riddled in your voice, confirming his suspicions. 

Before you have time to react his soft sweet lips come crashing into yours, his hand wraps around your waist, pulling you closer as your tounges dance in each other's mouths, the soft sound of moans erupting from both your lips as you wrap your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. This is was heaven feels like you think to yourself as you wish this moment could last forever, but, all good things must come to an end. “That’s enough love birds, I’ll give you 10 seconds to put your clothes back on” Cheryl yells through the door, sending fear through your body, you quickly push Jug away, wiping your mouth and straightening your clothes, ready to face the party once again. He looked hurt by your sudden disinterest in him. “Jug-” before you could finish the door swings open, Cheryl stood in the doorway, smirk smeared across her face, Jugs eyes never left you. The sound of howling filled the air as your face began to burn, you quickly look down and make a b-line for the door, not even noticing Archie had left, you didn’t care at that moment, you just wanted to leave. Thankfully nobody tried to stop you. 

As you make your way to the front door you notice a figure standing in the corner, you glance over out of instinct but freeze with fear as you recognise them, it was the stranger from earlier on that night, the one that tried to kidnap you. It didn’t take him long to realise you knew it was him, turning around he tries to escape, attempting to lose you through the see of teens all cheering you on for getting with Jug. You brush them off, focused on your kidnapper, pushing and shoving your way through the crowd you both make it outside, alone. “Who are you and why the fuck did you try to kidnap me?” you yell across the garden, attempting to keep some distance as they do the same, silence, you ask again, they look around trying to find a way out but before you could ask a third time Jughead comes out, an angry look spread across his face, “WHAT THE FUCK SWEET PEA?” he raws at the boy, scaring you both for a moment. You stand there looking up at the bad boy confused, how does he know him? You question “you told us to get her!” he shouts back, both boys starting to get angry, only confusing you more, “NO!” he yells, was he trying to have me kidnapped? “I told you to keep an eye on her, not try to fucking take her you dumbass!” Jug quietened down, frustrated, he pinched the bridge of his nose as you consider to stand there, bewildered by the idea of Jughead’s friends trying to stalk and kidnap you. Before anything else can be said you turn around, heading back into the house and to the front door, ignoring Jug’s attempts to calls your name, begging for you to hear him out, you’ve had enough. 

Stepping out into the front garden you begin to stomp home, Jug not far behind, “please Y/N, hear me out, it’s not, it's not what you think” he pleaded, taking large steps in an attempt to catch up with you, you shake your head and continue walking, refusing to look back or listen. He manages to lightly take your hand, you stop and turn, yanking it back immediately, an apologetic look on his face. “Just leave me alone and stop stalking me” you mutter, refusing to make eye contact “your friends too” you add, glancing over to Sweetpea standing in the front yard, Jugs eyes stay on you. Before he can say anything else you turn and walk away, heading straight home, done with this bullshit as Jug continues to stand there, watching you leave, knowing he fucked up royally and you may have too. 

[eternityunicorn]

Elijah’s Eternity: Smutty Oneshots - Tonight We Become Lovers (Challenge Fic) +18

Author: eternityunicorn 

Genre: Romance/AU

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x OC

Warnings: Smut, pure unadulterated smut!

Summary: The villainous Elijah Mikaelson meets his worst enemy, the heroic Eternity, one night in a club. Having had many duels that have ended badly for him, Elijah discovers a way to claim retribution for the embarrassments of those defeats, when Eternity issues an invitation of the sexual kind to him. A challenge unfolds as the two warring sides fight for dominance that leads Elijah to question; are they truly enemies after all? *Dark/Dom Elijah 

NOTE: OC is from my up and coming novel series!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is a fic for @kdcollinsauthor‘s 1500 challenge. It was a pleasure to write. Thank you for letting me participate! I hope you like my contribution!

———————————————————————————————————

Elijah Mikaelson was standing at the bar of a local club called Mirage, dressed in his usual dark suit and tie, looking a little out of place in the casual atmosphere around him without care. There were people everywhere, talking, drinking, and dancing to the obnoxiously loud music that was enough to make one’s ears bleed. He watched them all with a predator’s gaze, looking for a victim to prey upon. He was feeling rather hungry and was in need of the warm metallic sustenance that was human blood. 

Slowly, he sipped upon the bourbon he had ordered from the bartender while leaning on the bar with one hand shoved casually into his pants pocket, watching the people go about their lives completely unaware of the danger observing them; the vampire waiting patiently to prey upon them. 

It was during this observation of his victims-to-be that he saw the familiar flash of white across the way in the darkness of the club. Elijah growled in irritation - Eternity! So, she was there too. How annoying unsurprising. She never seemed to be far from him, always near to torment him.

For months the warrior queen had been a thorn in his side, always intervening in his hunts for fresh prey. It had forced him to seek sustenance by other means, namely blood bags he compelled out of a nurse from the local hospital. It wasn’t the same as the hunt and he hated Eternity all the more for forcing such a subpar source of blood upon him.

Elijah wanted to rip her throat out for daring to interfere, just thinking about it. Yet, he refrained as every time he attempted to retaliate, she defeated him with ease. Every damned time! It was incredibly aggravating!

Though curiously, Eternity never killed him outright, unlike other opposition she faced. In fact, h he would dare to say that their fighting was her way of flirting with him. She was always grinning at him in a flirtatious way, taunting him to attack her, and one time when he had managed to pin her to the wall of an old abandoned building, Elijah swore he saw lust there in her sapphire eyes as she stared challengingly back at him. 

If he were honest with himself, he had wanted to devour her mouth when he saw that reflected in her eyes. Yet, he was not one to give into his impulses easily. Because of that, he had held back at that time and ended up laid out all over again as a result.

From there, back and fourth they went, fighting and almost fucking on more than one occasion since that first time he saw lust in her. His hatred of Eternity had begun to mix with a lust all his own for the immortal woman. 

She was an exquisite beauty, unlike anything he had ever seen before. She had a pale, almost white complexion, and long white hair that rippled down her back like ocean waves. Her rounded face featured plush pink lips that were so damned kissable, it was hard for anyone to resist. Her form was soft and graceful, yet strong and durable. 

Elijah knew that bedding her would be phenomenal, as he wouldn’t need to be careful. He could take her as roughly and mercilessly as he desired. The very thought made him hard. The filthy visions that danced through his mind drove him to distraction, much in the way that her constant interference made him want to murder her.

Yes, Eternity was perfection.

“So, we meet again, Mr. Mikaelson,” came her soft-spoken voice, snapping him out of his lusty thoughts immediately.

There she was leaning against the bar just as casually as he was, smirking at him with a hooded gaze. Eternity had managed to sneak up upon him without his notice, another thing to add to the list of her maddening qualities that he detested. It was an ever growing list that he didn’t think would ever end.

“Yes, it would seem so,” Elijah replied smoothly with a bit of irritation in his voice, making it drop a couple of octaves. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

Eternity laughed lightly, “Your acting as if you don’t secretly enjoy our little rendezvouses is adorable, Mr. Mikaelson. As to your question, I saw you staring at me all the way over here and decided to put you out of your misery by coming over. You looked so desperately in love, I just couldn’t resist.”

He felt indignant then at her implication. “I was not looking miserable nor desperate in love,” he retorted in a quiet anger that barely seemed like anger at all. “No, I was...deciding on how I wanted to best tear your lovely head from your...exquisite body.” His eyes raked over her form in blatant lust he hadn’t meant to display so openly to his enemy, before he licked his lips with a small smile of approval at what he saw. Again, he hadn’t meant to show her his lust so easily. Yet, he couldn’t resist it. 

Eternity didn’t believe him for a second and it showed in her knowing expression. “You’re such a liar,” she responded with irritating amusement. “I know the truth. It’s written there all over your face. You want me, Mr. Mikaelson. Now, the question is: do you have the balls to come and get it?” 

Just like that, before he could respond, Eternity disappeared into the crowd. All he had time to do was stare in disbelief into the club after her. It seemed she wanted him too, he realized. Enemies they may have been, but there was definitely something else that had grown between them. Maybe it was only lust. Perhaps not, he didn’t know. Either way, Elijah couldn’t resist the pull of her invitation. It was like a magnetic force that he had no choice but to surrender to.

Now he hunted for a different kind of prey, his hunger for blood taking a back seat to his lust for the warrior queen currently evading him. He swore he would be having the white-haired beauty that night and nothing would stop him from his goal. He’d kill anyone who dared to be foolish enough to try. Not that anyone would. The humans around instinctually knew to avoid him, even if they didn’t consciously know why. Nobody there has the gall to get in his way.

Elijah moved through the people, his eyes scanning for the white-haired beauty he sought. At first, he couldn’t see her anywhere, only humans he could care less about. It was as if she had vanished. But he knew she was there somewhere. He could sense her, knew she was near by. He caught the scent of her sweet arousal that waffled through the air, beneath the human and alcoholic stench. 

Like a bloodhound, the well-dressed vampire moved toward it until he finally saw her standing in the darkest corner of the club, leaning against the wall by a set of stairs. Eternity’s eyes were zeroed in on him with her hands folded casually behind her back as she watched him watch her. Then she moved again. This time doing so in his view, heading up the stairs while swinging him a seductive look as she went.

Immediately, he followed. Though he did briefly wondered at his own weakness to resist her, it didn’t stop him from climbing those rickety old wood stairs to the upper level where he knew there was an attic with a bed. He knew this because he had seduced a woman or two into heading up there with him in the past. It was a bit ironic that he was the one being lead up there by a female’s seduction this time around. A fact that wasn’t lost on him.

Once up there, Elijah came to stand in the open doorway of the small unused bedroom with his mouth hanging open at the sight before him. His need only climbed to new levels from what he found there. He licked his lips in anticipation as he watched the beauty before him with barely existent cool collectiveness. 

Eternity stood in the middle of the room facing him in the doorway, as she slowly stripped off the little black dress she was wearing. He couldn’t stop himself from groaning as he realized she wore nothing underneath. She was bared to him instantaneously as the dress fell into a heap around her feet. She stood there perfectly still, waiting for him to make his move toward her, knowing he would.

Elijah wanted to cross the room and throw her down to have his wicked way with her in a most unseemly animalistic fashion, but pride wasn’t about to let him lose his self-control to instinctive impulse. No, he wasn’t about to be so weak in front of his enemy. She wouldn’t beat him in this game of seduction. He’d have her his way only or not at all.

Unhurriedly, he moved into the room with one hand casually in his pants pocket and the fingertips of the other rubbing against his lower lip as he took her bare beauty in. He approached and made a slow circle around her, hearing her heart racing and seeing her body tremble with her want of him already. He hadn’t even touched her yet, but the anticipation of it was enough to leave her a wanting mess. 

It was beautiful.

Elijah smirked to himself, as he plotted his next move. Deciding quickly, he came to stand behind her a small distance away, reaching with the hand that had been rubbing his low lip to brush her long hair to one side, so that it collected over her shoulder. He made sure that his fingertips lightly caressed the skin of her neck as he did.

He heard her moan slightly at the contact, which only made him smirk more. His hand came around to grip her throat firmly, pulling her roughly back against his still clothed body. Elijah attached his mouth to the column, laying open mouthed kisses there, before running his tongue up it’s length to taste her sweet flesh. 

Upon feeling Eternity’s pulse, Elijah’s hunger for blood drove his vampire visage to the surface and unable to resist, he bit into the side of her throat at the place where her neck met her shoulder. She gasped in surprise, but didn’t fight him as he began to drink from her. She let him, both of them knowing perfectly well he couldn’t kill her this way. Eternity was an immortal of a higher caliper than even him, an otherworldly creature that was far more durable than any creature on Earth. A fact he usually found irritating, but was now thankful for.

Eternity’s otherworldly blood was unlike anything he had tasted before. Not only was it sweet like candy, but Elijah felt stronger, more powerful from it. He was sustained much faster and far more completely than a human’s. It was so intoxicating a high that he had to force himself to let her go. Once he had torn his mouth away and Elijah’s vampire visage receded, he lapped at the stray bits of blood from the already healing puncture wounds.

They moaned pleasurably in unison. Eternity reached up behind her to grip his hair in her little hand to hold his head there at her neck. When he tried to pull away, she yanked him back into place as an attempt to control him.

The dominant came out in Elijah when she did this. She could dominate him on the battlefield all she wanted as he unfortunately couldn’t stop her there, much to the displeasure of his wounded pride admitting such. However here, like this, he wouldn’t be allowing her control over him. He would have her submission. 

Gripping her hand in his hair, Elijah pulled her hand away with a growl. He removed his mouth from her skin to whisper hotly against her ear, “If we’re going to do this, it’s going to be at my will. You will submit to me or else I will walk away and leave you unfulfilled. Do you understand, Sweetheart?”

Eternity didn’t immediately answer him, choosing to be defiant instead. 

Stubborn little thing, thought Elijah, as he took the hand still casually in his pants pocket and swiftly fisted the hair at the back or her head, making her cry out in pain as he forced her head back harshly. She practically growled at him in turn, clawing at him unsuccessfully, as she squirmed against the rough treatment. Her struggles only made his grin cruelly and keep a tighter hold on her.

“Say we have an understanding, Sweetheart, or else I’m leaving,” he threatened in a low, menacing voice.

Eternity stilled for a brief moment and Elijah thought that meant she was going to agree to his terms, but alas he overestimated her ability to submit. Ever the valiant warrior, strong and proud, was she. Submission wasn’t in her nature - a trait they shared in common, he discovered. 

She moved in an unbelievably fast way that left him unprepared for it. Eternity managed to break his hold upon her with relative easy; though Elijah was sure she had felt some pain to do so. She turned on him, grabbing ahold of the lapels of his suit jacket and pushing him with quick steps until his back slammed harshly into the wall. She bared her teeth at him and then kissed him with bruising force, shoving her tongue into his mouth, which had been left open in his surprise. 

Taking advantage of his unpreparedness, Eternity used her great strength to lift herself up his body, wrapping her legs firmly around his waist and tangling her hands in his hair in the same painful way he had fisted hers a moment before. Though she could support herself, Elijah’s hands immediately went to support her anyway, with one arm curling around her waist and the other supporting under her backside. He groaned as he felt her rocking against him, moving her hips in time with her tongue that danced about inside his mouth.

Suddenly, she tore her mouth from his to smirk wickedly down at him, “You want my submission? You’re going to have to make it happen.”

Elijah stared up at her in wonder for a brief second, before he came back to himself and realized that she had just issued a challenge. “Are you challenging me?” He asked her in a low, intimidating tone. 

“You better believe it,” she whispered, before kissing his lips rather sweetly. 

Without hesitation, he moved, turning so that she was the one slammed into the wall. She grunted against the force, but then grinned at him defiantly. He growled animalistically at her as he attached his mouth to her throat, biting down hard with his human teeth. She gasped and then moaned loudly in response, her hands flying into his hair to scrap against his scalp again. Her legs, still wrapped around him, tightened, as she arched against him needfully. 

One of Elijah’s hands moved over her body, caressing tenderly over her breast, kneading it in his palm briefly, before moving on downward across her stomach to the hot slickness between her legs. He touched her there, slipping his fingers inside her tightness, while he groaned against her neck wantonly in response to the feeling, “Goddamn, you’re already so wet for me, Sweetheart, and I haven’t even begun to touch you properly.”

Eternity grinned at him, as she flexed her hips against his hand, riding his fingers of her own volition. It was another act of willfulness, just another part of her challenge. 

Not one to lose a challenge of this nature, Elijah knew he had to gain her submission, if it was the last thing he did. He couldn’t take another hit to his pride, as he had in their battles. So he acted, removing his fingers from her warmth and disentangling himself from her person completely, much to her disappointment.

He took a couple steps away from her, his chocolate eyes locked her sapphire ones the whole time. He proceeded to remove his suit jacket, tossing it on a nearby chair, and then he undid the buttons on his cuffs to roll up his sleeves past his elbows. Once he had done these things, Elijah reached for the tie around his neck, undoing it and the first couple buttons of his dress shirt. Taking the silky piece fabric and wrapping it around his hand, he beckoned Eternity to him.

She went to him as he commanded, but it wasn’t out of obedience. Oh no. Once she was within reach of him, Eternity was attempting to distract him with kisses to his lips and jaw while trying to move him back toward the bed. 

Elijah, of course, caught on immediately, halting her movements by fisting her hair again and harshly tugging her head back until she hissed in pain. She stared fierily back at him, a silent promise to return the favor someway, somehow.

“Nice try, Sweetheart,” he grinned cruelly at her. “You’re going to have to accept I’m in control here. You’ll get your pleasure at my will, not your own.”

Eternity shivered pleasurably visibly at the deep sternness of his voice, groaning quietly as she briefly closed her eyes. She licked her lips and then reopened her eyes. They were now pleading with him - a complete switch. 

Elijah swore that it meant she was wanting him in control of her, that she wanted to be submissive to him, despite her attempts for dominance. Was all that defiance just for show? Was it just to call for the dominate in him to take action? It would seem so, but he had his reservations.

And for good reason.

Just as he was letting his guard down, questioning her, Eternity moved in. She was once more wrestling her hair out of his grip and attacking him with a fiery kiss that left him trembling. All the while, the warrior queen shifted him, pushing him backwards until he found himself shoved into the lone chair in the room.

Eternity stood over Elijah, as he stared back up at her with a open mouth. She was willful indeed. He couldn’t decide if he was irritated or impressed. Perhaps both. 

Elijah didn’t have a lot of time to think on it since she was climbing into his lap, grinding against him wantonly once she was straddled there. Her mouth latched itself back onto his, her tongue once more moving in his own in time with her hips. He couldn’t help the deep groan that rumbled through him in response. His need for her climbing so high by that point that took all his will not to throw her to the floor and have her right there, giving in to every instinct and impulse.

Needing to take back control again, Elijah used Eternity’s distraction to his advantage. He took the tie in his hand and wrapped the silky material around one of her wrists, pulling it behind her back. Then he took her other wrist in a tender hold, before doing the same, so that her arms were firmly tied behind her before she could realize what he had done.

Eternity tore her mouth from his with a look of surprise marring her flawless face. She stared down at him with that same open mouthed expression as he had several times since this sexual encounter started, making Elijah feel victorious.

“Mine to do with as I wish,” he growled to her lowly with a smirk.

Immediately he was pushing her off of him and rising from the chair, guiding her by her bound wrists to the bed like a prisoner - his prisoner. He pushed her back against the bed with her legs dangling over the edge. He leaned over her to kiss her throughly in a punishing way, before standing to his full height and staring down at his prize. 

Yes, she was exquisite and Elijah was going to enjoy her immensely.

He was wound up pretty tightly, but he still had enough control to take his time in claiming her. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way and shrugged it off his muscled body,  carelessly tossing it away. Then he went for his pants and undid them; taking them, his boxers, and his dress boots off almost at once. Every article was thrown away without care. 

Eternity stared up at him appreciatively of his naked form that came to stand between her parted thighs. Her eyes fell to his hardened cock that stood at attention between his legs. She licked her lips and whined needfully at him.

“Do you want my cock, Sweetheart?” Elijah grinned down at her, taking himself in hand. 

She mewled at him in response.

“I didn’t get that. What did you say?” He asked then.

Still she stubbornly didn’t speak. However that didn’t last long. He simply stood over her, unmoving so long as she refused to answer him that Eternity finally broke. Her need for him having built up as greatly as his for her, driving her mad and causing her to shout desperately, “Yes! I want your cock! Please, Elijah!”

Elijah laughed at her outright as he calmly told her, “I win.”

Before she could retort, he grabbed her hips and shoved himself inside her with one harsh thrust, jointing their bodies at last. Both of them cried out at the feeling. Elijah shut his eyes against the wonderful sensation of her warmth wrapped snuggling around him, having known it would be fantastic - and it truly was. He held himself still over her, simply enjoying being buried to the hilt inside Eternity.

“Please,” she groaned at him, trying to thrust upward against his hold on her that kept her from succeeding in riding him. “Elijah, please! Fuck me!”

The rare explicit fell from her lips and he found it to be the hottest thing he had ever heard. Reaching a hand down, he grabbed her throat firmly as he replied with a growl, “Do not command me, Sweetheart. As I said, you’ll get yours at my will.”

Eternity went silent and her hips stilled immediately. 

At last, Elijah had her submission. That realization allowed him a feeling of generosity and so he began to move as she wanted, taking her hard and fast with an unforgivingly brutal pace. She practically screamed in response, enjoying the rough treatment just as he knew she would, making his male pride soar. 

He didn’t let up at all, keeping the pace as harsh as either of them could take. Over and over again, he thrusted into her body this way, watching her face as the pleasure he brought upon her took her higher and higher and higher still. His hand on her throat held her down, in a show of dominance, his dark eyes staring intensely down into her sapphire ones all the while as he fins claimed her. She didn’t fight or show defiance in any other fashion, only took what he gave her. 

Elijah bent over Eternity, wanting to her admit her submission to him. He demanded in a growl, “Tell me who you belong to? Tell me who has control of you?”

Eternity didn’t hesitate in responding now. The pleasure had her resolve completely broken, as she cried out,“I’m yours! Elijah, I’m all yours! You have control of me, only you!”

“Good girl,” he grinned as he kissed her throughly, his tongue invading her mouth and moving in the warm cavern in time with his hips.

Higher did they continue to climb until they had reached their respective peaks and fell over the edge together. It was a delightful sight, watching Eternity fall apart beneath him, because of him. She arched almost completely in half as her climax took her with a loud scream. Her walls squeezed him so tightly that it triggered his own end, leading him to come hard inside her with a roar of his own. 

So powerful was his orgasm that Elijah couldn’t help it as he collapsed upon her body from the weakened state it left him in. That was alright by him, if only because Eternity wrapped her arms around him tenderly, stroking his lightly sweaty hair as they came down together. Her gentleness left him feeling contented warmth, in a way he didn’t think was possible feeling in response to the affections of his enemy, if he could still call her that now. 

Lifting himself up a little to look down at her, Elijah studied her rosy face. He was moved profoundly by what he saw. Her eyes were looking at him with a mix of orgasm inducing bliss and a deep affection for him. He swore he could call it love, but that was impossible right? That couldn’t be possible, yes?

What he saw spoke to him and Elijah couldn’t help but to kiss her lips gently with his own emotion akin to the ones that he saw in those sapphire depths awakening. When had it happened? He wondered silently. When had he fallen in love with Eternity? Or her with him? He couldn’t answer, as he didn’t know. It had simply happened.

He rested his forehead against hers affectionately, before disentangling himself from her completely and getting to his feet. Eternity stared after him disappointedly, sitting up as she watched him as he moved to find his clothes.

“So that’s it?” She said softly with hurt coloring her voice. “One and done, huh? Just like that?”

“Not even a little bit,” Elijah replied honestly, turning back to her. “I don’t know how it happened or when, but it would seem that I’m in love with you, Sweetheart. It makes sense with how obsessive I’ve been about defeating you, my wanting to see you, even if it’s in battle.” He smiled slightly at her. “Yet, if I’m to be a man worthy of you, then I have some work to do. I can’t be the man you need me to be - a good man - until I change my life.”

Eternity smiled at him in return and suggested cautiously, “We could do that together, you know. You don’t have to leave. I can show you the way.” She reached a hand out to him, “Just stay here with me. We’ll work it out as lovers do.”

He stared at her in amazement of her willingness to stand by him, to help him change his life around, after all those times he stood against her as her enemy. Her compassion, her forgiveness, and her love had him softening toward her completely. Instantly, he was back over her, pushing her back into the mattress and kissing her soundly. She squealed in delight beneath him, making him chuckle happily back at her.

“Together,” Elijah murmured against her mouth.

Eternity beamed, “Together.”

The End

[pumpkins-s]

Waiting For You (To Become Something To Come Back To)

Read On AO3 Here

Pidge doesn’t consider communication about her feelings her strong suit, and Lance isn’t good at talking about his own problems to the people that matter, especially when he can solve someone else’s instead—but together, they might just have to learn to try.

(Or, five times Lance and Pidge try to voice the hard things that need to be said, with varying levels of success, and one time they don’t need to.)

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Relationships: Lance/Pidge

Characters: Pidge, Lance

Written for the @plance-zine​

1.

Somewhere in the aftermath of Sendak’s attack on the castle—long after Lance has been seen out of his cryopod, and she has coughed up her secret from her chest—Pidge lies in bed, thinking. The unfamiliar hum of the castle grates on her ears, and she realizes, properly realizes, that she nearly died.

  Realizes that if she closes her eyes, she doesn’t fully trust that the castle won’t light up the purple of betrayal again in her absence. It sits heavy on her, and eventually, it drives her from her room altogether.

  She finds herself drawn to the flight deck, where the glow of the new crystal lights up the scorch marks and scars marking their earlier battle. She sits there, staring at it for what feels like an eternity, trying not to think of Shiro’s scream of pain over the monitor, Haxus’s cries as he fell into the abyss of the castle’s inner depths. Just trying , at least until there’s the shuffle of noise behind her, and a startled yelp from a familiar voice as he hurriedly scooches back around the doorway.

  Pidge rolls her eyes. “I don’t own the flight deck, Lance.”

  “…Right,” she hears him say, and slowly he inches into view, sitting down next to her gingerly, as if expecting her to explode at any moment. There’s a flash of momentary annoyance at his caution, but as she watches his fiddling thumbs in his lap, something inside her softens. She isn’t the only one who nearly died today.

  “Can’t sleep?” she tries. It’s not quite an are you okay? because she doesn’t know even remotely how to approach this, but God help her if she doesn’t at least try . Lance deserves that much, right now.

  He shrugs. “Tried, but—just couldn’t settle down, I guess.”

  She nods, keeping her eyes trained on the crystal rather than him. “…It was scary,” she admits quietly, reluctantly. “Finding you here. I thought you’d…”

  “Sorry,” Lance whispers, and she doesn’t quite know why—he saved Coran’s life, that’s not anything to be sorry for—but he plows on. “I wasn’t—I don’t remember much, afterwards. I was pretty out of it. But when I heard your voice over the monitor, cursing out Sendak like that, I knew we’d be okay.” He looks over at her, grin brilliant, and something in her throat hurts, wants to demand how he can be so damn trusting. Instead, the words coming unbidden, she chokes out—

  “I killed him. Haxus.” He probably already knows, but she still has to say it—has to confess .

  Lance’s smile drops. “…It wasn’t your fault.”

  She snorts. “Do you really believe that?”

  He shrugs, mouth a thin, grim line. “I have to. I doubt they were the only people on that ship. They—war has casualties, and it was us or them. You didn’t have a choice. None of us did.”

  Something about his words scare her, and she shakes her head, desperately changes the topic. “Did you really not know I was a girl?” Lance’s answering squawk of outrage comes as a relief, safe territory.

  She doesn’t want to have to dwell on the finality of the word war any more than she has to.

   2.

Really, Pidge can’t even find it in her to be surprised that Lance is the one who bursts into her room following their return to the castle, after the collapsed wormhole fiasco.

  Of course, he takes one look at the trash reconstructions of her friends she’d smuggled back, and announces, with no grace whatsoever: “What the fuck.”

 Flushing red, Pidge promptly drops trash Shiro, whom she’d been carefully trying to lean up against one of the piles of her collected tech repair parts, and snaps, “Get out.”

  “Oh my god,” Lance says, completely ignoring her and utterly delighted. “Are these supposed to be us? ”

  Dropping her face into her hands, Pidge sighs. “Lance. Please.”

  “These are adorable,” he coos, poking at trash Hunk speculatively, before casting an unsure look at his own replica. “…Does my hair actually look like that?” Pidge just glares at him, and he holds his hands up defensively. “I’m just saying, I’ve looked better.”

  “Your bangs look like you hacked them with a chainsaw,” she grumbles, and Lance shrugs.

  “I cut them myself, I’ll admit. There’re no good salons in space.”

  She wants to ask him what his excuse was at the Garrison, feeling acerbic and slightly mean in her embarrassment, but he’s already moved on. “That one’s Shiro, right? The broad, manly shoulders give him away.” He rests his elbow on her head, which she shoves off with distaste. “Aww…Pidge! You made these while we were gone? You missed us?” Lance flutters his eyelashes. “Were you lonely?”

  Pidge growls, and Lance blinks, seeming to rewind his words in his head. “Oh shi—you were lonely?”

  “Okay!” she announces loudly, trying to shove him towards the door. “ Thank you , Lance, I think it’s time for you to go—“

  He plants his feet into the ground, the picture of stubbornness.

  “…You were, weren’t you?”

  Ceding defeat, Pidge drops her arms, crossing them defensively. Lance fidgets awkwardly in front of her, before he says, “I don’t uh—I’ll be real I have no idea what to do here.”

  “You could leave.”

  “No, no, hold on. I’m going to come up with something really sensitive and tactful to say, just give me a minute.” He trails off, eyebrows furrowed and a hand pressed to his chin in what is obviously meant to be a thinking gesture. “…You knew we were coming back to get you, right? No matter how long it took, we were gonna find you?”

  Pidge huffs. “I know.”

  Lance frowns, casting a critical eye at his trash double. “…Do you?”

 “I—“ She hesitates, and then scowls. “Oh, fuck you Lance! No, I didn’t know. Nobody came for me; I had to get myself out of there. I had to build my own satellite to contact Allura and Coran, and I had to get Shiro and Keith while you were off playing Atlantis with Hunk.” Lance winces, and Pidge cuts herself off, instantly feeling regret. She knows that’s not how it went for Lance and Hunk at all. “…Sorry. I didn’t—sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Lance says. After a moment, he takes a deep breath, crouching down in a move that would normally get him kicked at, and knocks his forehead against hers gently. “Look, I’m not as smart as you, okay? I can’t build crazy stuff to fix everyone’s problems, but if there’s one thing I am, it’s stubborn, so believe me when I say that so long as I get any vote in the matter, we’re always going to come find you, alright? Always. We’re a team, we stick together.”

  When she says nothing, Lance straightens awkwardly. “Right. Well I’m just gonna…go.”

  He makes it to the door before she manages to force herself to speak.

  “Wait.” Lance freezes, and she scratches unsurely at her arm. “Do you…want to see trash Keith? You could take apart his mullet to fix your hair.”

  Lance turns around, eyes wide and smile somehow wider again. “I’d like that.”

   3.

The first time they play video games is only a few days after the Beta Traz breakout. Group exhaustion at Slav’s…Slav-ness, and Shiro’s perpetual frustration with him, gives them plenty of motivation to spend their limited free time out of the way and focused on puzzling out a power source for the game system they’d bought. Eventually, with Hunk’s help, the three of them cobble the necessary parts together.

  Lance, in a show of surprising charity, offers to let her be player one, though he all but begs for first selection from the character menu.

  “You should choose the archer,” Pidge tells him, scooching up from behind on her knees and putting aside her bowl of food-goo flavored chips to rest her chin on his shoulder. “Ranged support. You’re good at it in real life, figures you’d have it down in video games too.”

  Lance frowns. “I don’t know.”

  “What?” Pidge snorts. “You’re telling me you’ve never played a sniper in a game before? You? ”

  “Of course I have,” Lance grumbles. “I just meant—I thought I’d play one of the fighters.” He shifts his fingers on the controller, and hovers over one of the swordsmen.

  Pidge wrinkles her nose. “Why?”

  “…Aren’t they the ones everyone wants to play? They’re the heroes .”

  “And that guy—“ Pidge points at the archer’s icon, “isn’t? Please. I always had to play support for Matt. Without me his ass wouldn’t have made it past level two.”

  “Oh. I guess I just—never mind.”

  Lance looks away, and Pidge thinks, not for the first time, of Beta Traz, of things spoken into the comms she was never supposed to hear. The things Lance thinks of all of them, and the things he thinks about himself. Really thinks about himself.

  “Hey—“ She hesitates, tongue darting out to touch her bottom lip in a quick, nervous gesture she got from her Dad’s side of the family, and never could quite seem to lose. “Support characters—support fighters are important, okay? They protect their teammates, clear the way ahead when everyone’s too focused on what’s right in front of them. They’re not—“ Lance’s words echo in her head. “They’re not some…seventh wheel.”

  Pidge feels Lance freeze, eyes trained ahead on the screen as his body tenses, and she continues.“…I’m pretty sure they’re one of the most necessary cogs in the machine, if anything.”

  Lance says nothing, but after a long moment, fingers twitching over the controller in aborted movements, he selects the archer from the character menu, and Pidge breathes a sigh of relief.

  He leans in closer to her weight, the side of his head bumping up against hers, and Pidge chooses to take that as unspoken forgiveness for her accidental listening in. She selects her character in turn, and the silence, for once, doesn’t stifle her.

   4.

After their first battle with Lotor, Lance doesn’t talk.

  Well, no, he talks—and talks, and talks . About how out-of-control fast Red is, about how great Allura was, about how much of a jerk Lotor must be—but he doesn’t… talk . Not about Blue, not about the anxious twitch in his hand every time someone mentions him and Red in the same sentence, not about the flicker of despair that flits over his face when Coran pats Allura on the back and says something about blue paladins .

  He’s not jealous of Keith, or resentful of Allura, even. No, this is something else Pidge can’t quite puzzle out. An unspoken hurt.

  She considers talking to him about it for all of several minutes, but by the time she’s made up her mind to even try, she turns around and he’s gone. When he’s not in his room, Pidge selects the next most obvious option, and hacks the security cameras to the lion hangars.

  Allura was there, so it technically wasn’t a private moment, she tries to tell herself. She definitely feels guilty, but her—she can’t even call it curiosity, this is just plain old worry— overwhelms it.

  Both feelings vanish the minute she sees the footage, replaced with cold, steel fury . Pidge isn’t someone to let her emotions get the better of her if she can help it, but this time rage unsettles even her usually rational affect.

  Without thinking, she storms down to Blue’s hangar, near kicks open the door, and announces to the lion, without preamble. “You’re an asshole .”

  Avenging wrath beats in her chest, and Pidge trembles, trying to imagine what it would feel like if Green ever did that to her. Ever shut her out and wouldn’t even tell her why .

  Inconceivable. Her brain refuses to even compute the option, coming up all in error codes and pangs of foreboding and pain .

  “Why the fuck’d you have to do that to him?” she shouts, and she understands objectively she’s yelling at a giant metal lion, that this is possibly one of the most ridiculous things she’s ever done, but she finds it hard to care. “I get he needed to pilot Red, I get that was necessary, but you could have just told him. Shutting him out like that—you know what he’s like, you know what that’d do to him!”

  Blue doesn’t stir, not that Pidge expects her— it to, and she hisses. “That was cruel, and you know it. You’re cruel. A cruel, heartless—“ her first instinct is to say bitch, but she’s not sure Blue deserves even that acknowledgement of her sentience right now. God knows she hasn’t put it to good use. “… thing .”

  With one last spiteful glare at the lion, she turns to leave, and startles to a stop when she sees Lance behind her, wide-eyed and awkward. “Lance—“ she says, and she’s not sure if it’s to defend herself or apologize, but he suddenly surges forward, hugging her tightly even as his shoulders shake.

  “…Thank you,” he murmurs, and Pidge closes her eyes. She can feel Blue stir just slightly, through the bond between all of them, but Pidge ignores it. The lion has not earned her forgiveness, and it won’t for a long time.

  5.

Pidge understands, objectively, even before Allura puts out the call to the coalition, that Matt is going to have to leave the ship eventually. He’s a rebel officer. He has duties and obligations in this…war, just like her. He can’t spend forever joking around, playing video games, and working on mindless projects with her. It’s just not a part of their reality.

  Still, that doesn’t make it any easier when she has to watch him go. To know that if something, anything, goes wrong, she may never see him again. May lose him to a battle they were never supposed to belong to, when she only just got him back to begin with.

  She doesn’t hear Lance come up behind her, stuck in her own head amidst the noises of the departing ships, until he’s already there, tucked up by her side and peering up at Matt’s ship inscrutably. He looks to it, and back to her, and back to the ship again, before he speaks, with the kind of blunt, relentless optimism she’s slowly come to appreciate. “He’ll be alright.”

  “You don’t know that,” Pidge says with a sigh, and Lance shrugs.

  “Course I do.”

  “You can’t ,” she mumbles tiredly. “You said it yourself. War has casualties. Us or them, and it can’t always be us.”

  “Yeah, but—“ Lance makes a face, nose scrunched in thought. “I just know, okay?”

  “… How? ” Pidge says hoarsely, and for once, in the face of what she cannot understand about Lance, she is not frustrated so much as just…defeated. “How can you possibly know?”

  “Well,” Lance looks down at her, and his awkward, lopsided smile is like the sun. “He’s related to you, isn’t he? And you’re the toughest person I know.”

  Pidge blinks, surprise stealing her words, and Lance nods decisively, eyes on Matt’s ship. “…He’ll come back. And hey,” he looks back down to her, “if he doesn’t, we’ll just go get him, right? He’s part of the team now. I promised, didn’t I? No one gets left behind.” Lance points an awkward finger at himself. “Not even seventh wheels, apparently. Which means you’ve got to trust me on this one. If I can somehow keep my ass alive, anyone can.”

 “You’re not a seventh wheel,” Pidge says automatically, determined to repeat it until he gets it into his thick head, no matter how long it takes. Lance brightens visibly at her words, and Pidge swallows, a lump in her throat as she turns back to Matt’s departing ship. Wind blows fiercely as it takes off, throwing her hair in front of her eyes, and she is reminded almost inevitably of another landing platform a lifetime ago, promising her brother if he didn’t come back from Kerberos she’d damn well come and get him. She’d already done it once, and she wasn’t afraid to do it again, if it came down to it.

  “Let’s give him something to come back to, then,” she says, and Lance whoops, throwing an arm over her shoulders as the rebellion takes off.

 “Hell yeah.”

   +1

After Naxzela—after the panic of entrapment and waiting for the end and somehow, somehow still escaping to live another day—she finds him in the Balmera crystal’s glow.

  Lance looks to her as she enters the flight deck, his dark skin awash in the pale blue light, and she feels truly at ease for the first time since the fight.

  There is still so much to do, so much to say. Discussions of where to go next, how to compensate for and honor their casualties, their dead, the question of just what to do with Lotor—God, Lotor , Zarkon’s heir and their questionably former enemy, asleep in the prison hold of their castle.

  But Pidge looks at Lance, and suddenly all that feels like it can wait, for now. The castle can guard its slumbering load without her, this more important.

  “Should I go?” she asks, already knowing what he’ll say in response, and Lance shakes his head.

  “Stay?”

  She does.

[moonysfrexckles]

Her Boys

It was a stormy night. Ravaging winds and eviscerating rain had swept in from the West, following a summer of nothing but eternal sunshine and hot spells. The skies were dark and swirling, and the road shone slick with water.

The old manor house stood largely unaffected, solid and unwavering in the face of such an onslaught. The trees groaned, shifting with the weight of the wind ploughing into their trunks, and there was a little broom shed that’s foundations looked as though they would be pulled from the earth and the wooden panels of the walls would go splintering. Other than that, there was nothing.

Until a figure appeared out of nowhere.

It was largely unremarkable, for the wind made one’s eyes hard to trust, but one minute there was solitude and silence, and with the next bout of storm, a boy stood in its place.

He was relatively tall, though his body was racked, and he was shivering violently. He ran with fear lacing his strides, clutching tightly at the thick cloak wrapped around him and lugging after his heels an old leather trunk.

The boy stopped only when he got to the house, collapsing against the doorway, gasping sharply for air. He knocked desperately.

There was no answer. Nobody even stirred.

But then, a light flickered on above him. And another. It was like a game of dominos, each light lit quicker than the last, until the door was flung open and a yellow warmth devoured him.

“Sirius?”

James Potter stood in the house, glasses shoved onto his nose, tired eyes slowly widening. His hair was stuck up in all possible directions.

Sirius tried to smile, but he could taste blood and knew it was more of a grimace.

“Dear Merlin,” James whispered.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” Sirius offered quietly.

It was only then that James noticed the trunk behind him. He didn’t waste another second, throwing the door wider and ushering his friend inside, taking the trunk from his cold and clammy hands and hauling it into the entryway. The door slammed shut behind them.

James had seen many things in the five years he’d spent being friends with Sirius Black. He had seen him thrash around in the dead of night, pleading to an invisible man to stop, flinching and crying out when they didn’t. He had seen him determined and loving ferociously, stopping at nothing to make sure that Remus Lupin was not alone when the rest of society seemed to believe he should be. He had seen him cold, when the hatred burned through him, black as his namesake and eyes. He had seen him euphoric and free, laughing like nothing in the world could touch him and at one time, James had believed that to be true.

He had never seen him like this.

Sirius’ eye was swollen, purple and bulging, protruding from his ashen face like a stone from water. His lip was bust, still oozing blood, and there was a bruise blossoming on his cheekbone, ugly and grey and pink. James knew that if he lifted Sirius’ shirt, even a fraction, he’d see identical bruises, like a meadow spreading up his skin.

He was shaking, trembling so vigorously, James was sure he would burst. He was convinced that Sirius would explode and everything he’d ever felt, everything he’d held inside of him, would come ricocheting out, all the red and gold and black traversing through his veins.

“Sirius,” whispered James, and he felt his throat close up. Without saying another word (he wasn’t sure he could), he pulled the smaller boy into his arms, hugging him so closely, so tightly, as if this embrace would make all of Sirius’ broken parts fit back together. But then James wondered if he wasn’t whole to begin with.

The two boys stood there, clutching onto one another so firmly they left marks. Sirius sobbed into James’ shoulder, fingers clenched around the material of his pyjamas and James didn’t mind that he was now as drenched and cold as the storm outside. His brother was safe in here, in his arms, and if it meant he had to hold him for an eternity, James would do so in a heartbeat.

“James, darling, what-?”

Euphemia Potter stopped at the foot of the stairs. She breathed in sharply, and her words were lost.

“Sirius, love, is that you? What’s happened? What’s-? Oh my.”

She didn’t wait any longer, rushing over and she bundled both boys into her arms, hugging them to her body as though they were till children in need of a mother’s embrace, and she felt Sirius cling to her, melt into her warmth.

Euphemia realised he had probably never felt the love of a mother’s embrace before. She made sure to hug him tighter.

She patted his back to let her go, pulling away and wiping at her eyes, sniffing resolutely. She cast a drying and warming charm on him, smiling softly, holding his face tenderly in her hands. “Love, we need to get you out of these clothes. You’ll freeze to death if not. James, run and get him some of your pyjamas.”

James seemed hesitant to leave his friend, but his mother’s eyes urged him and he set off at a sprint, returning mere seconds later with a pair of clean Quidditch nightclothes, emblazoned with snitches and Puddlemere United. Sirius hardly had the effort to jab at James’ shocking allegiances.

“Can you walk, dear?” Euphemia asked him, brushing away some hair by his eyes. Though her face didn’t show it, she wanted to flinch at the sight of him. A child. And yet, here he was, beaten and bloody, almost a pulp. She tried to lead him upstairs, but he collapsed in her arms. “No, it’s okay. We’ll get you on the settee for tonight and move you upstairs to your room tomorrow.”

With James’ help, they gently led Sirius over to the settee, and Euphemia procured blankets and pillows to wrap him up with. She flicked her wand and a fire leapt in the hearth, bathing the room immediately in heat.

“I’ll just go and get some balm for his eye, and see if we have any potions for his bruises. I-”

“Mum,” James cut her off.

She fell quiet and the two looked at the broken boy on their settee. He had settled into the cushions, burrowing into their warmth, with the blanket tucked right up to his chin. In the firelight, the purple of his face made him look haunted, nearly dead. James’ throat clenched up at the thought and he cast it away instantly, focusing instead on the steady rise and fall of his brother’s chest.

Euphemia felt her heart melt. A sad smile formed at her lips. “I’ll be right back.”

Luckily, because they had a son as danger prone as James, their medical cupboard was well-stocked, and she was returning in no time with the necessary balms and potions and a warm cloth to wipe away any blood, but as she stepped back into their living room, she stopped in her tracks.

James had climbed under the covers beside Sirius, and was snoring peacefully, the smaller boy tucked against his chest. He had his arm draped over her son’s waist, and every now and then, his hand would seize into a fist and he’d clutch the material of James’ shirt. James absently stroked Sirius’ hair.

Euphemia faltered.

She and Fleamont had always had trouble having children. They had thought, as old as they were, that they might be condemned to live in a big, empty house, happy and in love, though missing something, missing the echoing of laughter and the high-pitched glee that followed it, spiralling out of control, and yelling after ghosts that sprinted down the hallways and slammed doors and made messes in the kitchen, and trailed mud into the house after a day spent dancing in the rain-

The day she found out she was pregnant with James was the happiest of her life, and though he was her blessing and her joy, it had come at a cost, and she was warned that another childbirth would kill her. And so, the dreams of a big family with several children had bubbled down to one child, whom she loved with all her heart.

Now, however, she thought that wasn’t true.

She laid the tray of medicines down on the coffee table, before quietly moving over to her boys. She pressed a lingering kiss to each of their foreheads, and pulled the blanket further up, making sure it covered their feet.

Euphemia stopped in the doorway, looking back once more at her sons.

No, she didn’t have one child. She had two.

[tin-can-iron-man]

A prompt for you: Tony gets separated from the team and injured on a mission and his suit gets damaged, so he starts to wonder if and when the team might find him since he can't get out on his own. (Sorry, I love reading angst with my favorite characters >.> I'm a masochist like that)

Anthony stark was cold. 

It wasn’t a normal kind of cold however, it was a cold he only felt occasionally, a kind of cold that made him want to scream and fight, but made him also want to close his eyes and accept it with open arms.

He knew what this was. It was how he felt when he woke up on that operating table in Afghanistan, with another mans very steady hands stuck in his chest. It was how he felt when he had carried the nuke into space, fully aware that it’s vast darkness could very well be where his body was to be lost for eternity. It was how he felt when he hit the ground afterwards and as much as he tried to will himself to move, couldn’t get back up until something, a scream of pure rage, jump-started his heart. It was how he felt falling under the waves of his home, his home that had just been obliterated by terrorists.

This was the cold Anthony Stark always felt when he knew he was going to die. 

The cold he had felt too many damn times for it to be “a miracle” anymore. 

He guessed that’s why they started calling him invincible.

The Invincible Iron Man.

But he knew how truly vulnerable he was. And apparently so did his foe this time around. 

He had no idea that there was such a weak spot in his armor. He thought he would have been fine getting shot at while shoving a much more not-bulletproof Clint out of the way. But he wasn’t, they had somehow managed to hit a weak spot in his armor, penetrating the defenses and harming tony dearly. While also cutting off the power and connection for him to move, and he fell. He fell into the rocks and rubble of the street down below. Even the armor audio had cut out.

Nobody could even hear him scream.

he could feel the bullet jostling around in his body, the only other part of him that wasn’t entrapped in the frigid cold. The burning hot sensation of his blood gushing out, and staining the inside of his suit and clothes dark red. 

He thought for a moment of just accepting it, like he had been tempted all those other times as well. He could die, and his friends would mourn, but they would get over it, and find someone else, someone stronger and better, and maybe even smarter to replace him. probably. 

He thought of accepting to to finally be released from his pain. The bullets pain of course. But also the pain of carrying all of his emotions on the inside, it’s not like he wanted to. He just…didn’t know how. How to open up, embrace people into his life in a clear and honest level. The only time he had ever managed was with Rhodey, and he didn’t know how it did it. 

The pain of finally realizing what he had been born to do, what had been breed and carved into his blood, and beaten over and over again and forged like a lump of metal into a shining sword. Only to discover that the sword was double edged. And killing those he had hoped to protect.

The pain of carrying the arc reactor inside his chest, reminding him of the months he spend in the caves of Afghanistan. The pain of watching the man who saved his life die for him, Tony promising him to be a better man. 

He hoped he had kept his promise. 

He could feel the world slow around him, every action and movement took a great deal of effort, even breathing. He was sure the bullet had punctured a lung. 

Tony Stark felt the numbness and disconnection of death.

He wondered if anyone would miss him. 

Probably not.

He heard the faint yelling. Shouting, harsh words he couldn’t understand. 

He felt himself start to move. He struggled to do anything, even breathing had become an intense effort. And he could hear the faint and pathetic noises he was making. And someone whispering sharply into his ears. 

“…with me, Stark” 

Stay with me Stark.

Obie.

NO no, not Stane, anyone but Stane, no please god–it had to be Stane.

It was this moment, for the first time in his life, Tony Stark had ever accepted the idea of an afterlife. Of Heaven and Hell.

And he knew where he was going. It’s not like he expected anything else anyway. 

Hell was probably too good for him.

A jolting pain shot through him, shocking him, it was Tony last line of defense against death, he had added a defibrillator into a part of the arc reactors design, he had forgotten all about that. He could feel just the slightest bit of energy come back into his body. 

With great effort, he slit open his eyes. 

He could see the Iron Man suit ripped to shreds not too far away. Blood pooling around the suit.

He watched as he was dragged away from the armor.

Dragged away from his body.

He felt himself being taken in by the darkness. 

He couldn’t fight it anymore.

He died.

…………………..

Tony Stark opened his eyes in a bright white room.

Someone next to him jolted up and started shouting immediately. 

The voice sounded like….Bruce? 

For the next few hours, people with blurry faces kept coming and going. But one stayed. He wasn’t sure who it was, he couldn’t see them very well. But it couldn’t have been Bruce. No way in Hell did the Hulk manage to die. 

This was a trick, to let down Tony’s guard. 

This was Hell.

 Tony wished he could scream.

But instead he fell back into an uncomfortable sleep.

………………….

Tony Stark opened his eyes once again in the bright room. It was darker this time however. He looked out at a window in the room. The sky was dark.

Does Hell have a day-night cycle? 

He could see everything clearly, there was no blur, no buzzing in his head, no other noise besides his slightly unsteady breathing.

He looked around the room. 

There was a man in a fuzzy over-sized purple sweater with glasses slipping down his face. His eyes were closed. He was asleep.

For a minute he considered the possibility he wasn’t in Hell, maybe he survived. Doubtful, but a possibility. 

He tried to speak. 

The small and pathetic attempt at his name “Bruce.” barely made any noise in the room. 

It was enough. Thank god for all our forced light sleeping habits.

“Tony!” Bruce shouted as he practically dove for the bedside. Falling onto his knees to be eye level with him. 

Bruce was babbling, asking if he was okay, if he needed to call the doctor. At least get him some water?

At that moment, Tony realized just how dry and scratchy his throat was. He would have loved water.

But he could barely speak, with intense and forceful effort, Tony managed to get a “Wa…” sound out of his mouth. But Bruce and Tony had worked together on scientific breakthroughs with only a few groans and incoherent muttering. Familiarity broke through and Bruce hurriedly stood up to get him what he wanted.

“So,” Tony had finally regained a decent amount of his voice after 5 glasses. It was still rash and horse, but it worked. “Are you the one who drew the short stick and are waiting on my beck and call until I’m out of here?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Aaaaannd there he is, Tony Stark.” Bruce threw his hands up into the air. “Making jokes 3 hours after he woke up from being in a coma for 7 days.”

“Seven!?” Tony almost chocked.

Bruce looked at him funny. “Did you forget you almost died?”

“Almost dying is like my signature move.” Tony muttered.

“Well you certainly stepped your game up. Clint told me as thanks he was going to wear nothing but Iron Man themed clothes for a whole month as thanks.”

Tony imagined that and laughed. “He wouldn’t get through one hour.” 

Bruce smiled for a moment, then his eyes grew concerned. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call a doctor?”

“We’re both doctors right here.”

“I meant an M.D, Smartass.” 

“Why do you keep asking that anyway? If I look like garbage just tell me.”

“You look like garbage anyway.”

“Walked right into that one.”

“Tony…” Bruce bit his lip and looked away for a moment, then refocused on the man in front of him. “You didn’t just almost die.”

Tony knew it was a trap. He waited for Bruce to continue, to welcome him into eternal pain and suffering. (It’s not like he wasn’t used to it.)

“Your heart stopped beating four times before we even made it to the hospital. Thor had to keep frying you just so you would stay anywhere in the zone of savable.” Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “We all watched you die Tony, over and over again. I had to be tranquilized so the other guy wouldn’t run out and wreck the whole state of New York looking for that son of a bitch. He’s really attached to all of you. I am too.” 

“Bruce.”

“Yeah Tony?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Jesus!” Bruce shot up from Tony’s side. Looking completely horrified. “Jesus Tony! Nobody is mad at you for almost—for actually fucking dying over and over again!” 

“Please try not to Hulk out Bruce, I’ve literally died several times recently.”

Bruce froze and looked somberly down at Tony.

“Believe me, I know.” He replied. Then there was a mostly comfortable silence.

“I uh, I was suppose to call Cap “The exact very second Tony wakes up”. So I’ve got to make a call, and you,” Bruce pointed a finger at him. “Better get ready for being fussed over by everyone until you’re discharged.” With that statement, Bruce stood up, grabbed his phone, and closed the door with a quiet click. 

Tony Stark finally figured out in that moment, lying alone in a clean hospital bed, that if he were to die, there were people who would miss him. People who would be so desperate to keep him alive that they would chose to suffer and watch their friend die over and over again just to get the chance to save him. 

Tony wanted to say he could feel his heart swell, and while he did feel a great deal of affection for his team. his team. But there was also an underlying fear, a fear of them being willing to put themselves on the line for him. Which is something he never wanted to happen. Something he could never experience. Not again.

So Tony Stark didn’t know how to feel staring up and the dark sky, with the brightest of stars shining brilliantly in the night.