#got my earrings all sorted and put away except the ones missing their twin

[theamazingannie]

Fun thing about cleaning my room is I’ll find something I was using like a week ago buried deep under my bed in a pile of old receipts and candy wrappers and then also find something I haven’t seen in MONTHS like right there sitting exposed on the floor

[goldenshoyo]

Cruel - Sakusa Kiyoomi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Semi-public sex, cunt slaps, face slaps (1), finger sucking, degradation, praise, car sex, size kink!, jealous Omi, edging, overstimulation (but in theory sorta, at the end), "daddy" and "bunny" used! As always, please let me know if I missed any!!

Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi is not a very jealous man, but sometimes his teammates can get under his skin.

Word count: 3k

Author note: This was a commission! Therefore, the reader has some body descriptions (being shorter and smaller than Kiyoomi). If you're interested in commissioning me, please dm me!

--

Nervous was the understatement of the year. While you had met a few of Kiyoomi’s teammates before, usually just saying a quick “hi” and “bye” before he drug you away from them, nothing to this degree. Atsumu had requested that his twin allow the team to have a party at his onigiri shop to celebrate a big tournament win for the team when they got back to Tokyo. Excitement was definitely there, but nothing would stop you from feeling the heavy rock in your gut or the anxious beating of your heart.

Well, nothing but Kiyoomi’s warm hand in yours. He smiled at you before slipping his black mask over his pretty face.

“It’ll be fun,” he assured, and you wondered if he actually felt that way.

He hated these gatherings, probably more than anyone should. Not for the fact he was antisocial or that he didn’t enjoy his teammates. He just didn’t want them flocking to you and making you nervous. However, it had been several months of him turning these things down and opting to spend his days off with you after games. The team was irritated with him for it, and he knew that this one party would make up for all the times missed.

Or at least he hoped.

“I think so too!” You say back cheerfully, adjusting your dress underneath you on the seat of his car. The leather was sticking to your thighs where your sundress rode up.

“You could have worn something more-“

“Think about what you’re about to say.” You warn, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “I like this dress.”

He does too, he wants to tell you. But so will the other members of MSBY. He chooses to not say anything, knowing you would only laugh at his comment or say something smart back. He loves that about you, even if he doesn’t tell you that often. He enjoys watching you get frustrated, furrowing your brows, and pouting your lip. It’s why he always teases you about what you wear. Not that he’d ever actually make you change, well, to an extent he thinks.

“Why are you so in your head?” You ask him as he pulls out of the parking garage.

“I didn’t realize I was,” he answers honestly.

You intertwine your fingers with his on your lap as he drives, listening to the soft sounds of the radio in the background while he takes you to the infamous Onigiri Miya you’d heard about a few dozen times. You knew Kiyoomi liked to pretend he hated Atsumu, but he was probably his closest friend, no matter how much he protested that fact.

It’s a shame this would be the first time you actually got to speak to him or anyone else on the team for that matter. You thought it was definitely cute that he was protective of you, but you were beginning to feel like he was keeping part of his life from you. When you brought it up to him, he apologized profusely, promising to take you to the next event.

--

“-----,” Atsumu’s shit-eating grin appeared for the hundredth time that night. “Tell me again, am I saying that right?” His hand caresses your shoulder and you still, shocked he’d carelessly do this despite you sitting on Omi’s lap.

“There’s not another way to say her name, Miya.” Kiyoomi glares at him from above you. It amazes you that even while sitting on his lap he seems so much larger than you. Thinking about it too much stirs something inside of you that you’d rather save for when you have him alone. So, you push it away. “Stop touching my girlfriend and go find yours.”

He throws his hands up, another laugh vibrating from his chest. “Fine, fine, I’ll stop teasing you Omi Omi.”

As he walks away, you smile down at your boyfriend, and he seems to relax. “Your friends are nice.”

“He’s not my friend.” He huffs looking away from you.

You know better. It’s honestly sort of adorable the way he always denies it.

“Yo!” Bokuto’s booming voice catches your attention as he runs towards you and Kiyoomi. “Osamu said something about a karaoke set, you have to come over here with us -----!”

“I-I don’t know about that,” your fingers dig into your palm as you look to Sakusua. “Would you want to?”

“I can come watch if you want to, bunny.” His fingers slowly stroke your thighs, and you flush; unable to think straight whenever he’s touching you and calling your favorite name.

“Okay,” you stand up going with Bokuto as he drags you towards the front of the Onigiri shop where the others have begun to set up the karaoke machine.

“I’ll sing with you since I know Kiyoomi would rather die than let loose with a song. Anything you like to sing?”

“Oh, uh,” you think. “I’ve never actually done this. So just pick something easy.”

“I guess,” he starts sifting through the catalog that’s on the machine, “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun it is!”

You laugh taking the mic he hands you. It’s so ridiculous he would choose it, but you know he’s doing his absolute best to help you feel comfortable around him and all the others. The entire event was bigger than you expected, everyone either bringing a partner or friend, sometimes both. However, even with all the people around Bokuto is making it easier to loosen up and realize no one actually cares about what you sound like; hell, most of them are too deep in conversation and laughing to even watch closely.

Kiyoomi is the exception, as always.

He’s removed his mask from one ear, letting it dangle from the other while he watches you. A small smile creeps on his lips when you make eye contact, and you can’t help but giggle through the lyrics. His smile quickly turns to a frown when Bokuto throws an arm around your shoulder as you finish the song and he laughs, smooshing his face up against yours to belt out the lyrics. You giggle, pulling away not sure you like the sudden closeness, and the song ending is a perfect excuse to put down the mic and heading over to Kiyoomi.

“That was quite the little show,” he says, his tone stern and unforgiving. “Especially the little bit at the end.”

“Omi,” you whine, placing your hand on his firm chest. “He was just being silly.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs before pulling his mask back on. “Let’s go. I’m ready to be home.”

“Omi!” You say more firmly. “I’m having fun!”

“Would you like to go home with one of them, then?” His eyes are intense, and you feel suddenly smaller than usual as he peers down at you.

He’s good at that, making you feel small. Even if you love it most of the time, it’s not just that. You want him, desperately, right here and now. You want to stay longer and spend more time with his friends, but he’s making it hard to focus with his deep voice and intense eyes that make you want to jump him here.

“No! Only you,” you tell him and lean up and place a soft kiss on his chest. “Let’s go, I guess,” you make sure to make your displeasure unknown even if you’re only thinking about getting him out of his clothes as soon as you are home.

You can’t exactly be sure, but you think he smiles under his mask. His eyes soften like they usually do when he smiles at you, so you assume you’ve made him happy. He says a few quick goodbyes, even making sure yours are faster than his while he pulls you away. To your surprise, he opens the back passenger door of his car.

“I am not riding in the back like a kid,” you tell him frowning. “You can’t be serio-“

“Get in the fucking car, -----.” He rolls his eyes again, and you slide in with a pout on your lips. Kiyoomi slides in beside you, pushing you down against the back seat. “I can’t wait another minute,” he growls in your ear while his fingers unhook his mask from his ear.

You bite your lip to keep from smiling too widely. “Daddy,” you whine as his fingers tease you through your thin dress.

It’s cruel, and you know that’s exactly what he intends.

He could easily hike the dress up just a few inches to have easy access to your core, but he won’t. He loves teasing you too much. The way your body reacts to even his slightest touch makes him dizzy, and he wants to feel drunk on you tonight. Even if you don’t know it, he thinks, Bokuto got to him in a way he can’t understand.

He thought Atsumu would be the one to bring out the ugly jealous side of him, but no, to his surprise it was the one man he never thought could do it. Honestly, he’s a little ashamed of himself as he’s sliding your dress up your thighs. It’s not your fault, anyone would want you. But you’re his.

Only his; and he intends to remind you of that.

“Omi, please!” You all but scream for him.

He’s relentlessly drawing small circles onto your clit and driving you mad. You’re soaking through your panties, and you need him. You’re not sure if it’s even been two minutes, but it feels like an eternity of teasing.

“Omi?” He chuckles. “Bunny, you know better than that.”

“Daddy, please,” you correct yourself. “I need you, daddy! Please!”

“That’s my girl,” he kisses you, his lips rough against yours.

He kisses you like he’s desperate he’ll lose you. Every touch and motion meant to remind you how much he loves and needs you. While his tongue enters your mouth, he slips his fingers down below your dress, moaning as he feels how wet you are for him.

“Fuck,” he groans against your lips. “You’re always so fucking good for me, bunny.”

He doesn’t curse often, or at least to this degree unless you’re fucking. Something about knowing he reserves even his swearing just for you. He pushes your panties to the side, just enough to give him access to your drooling cunt. He smiles as your back arches up off the leather of his back seat and your eyes roll back into your head.

“Tell me what you want, bunny.” He curls his fingers inside of you and you moan loudly.

“You! Daddy, want your big cock! Want it so bad,” you whine as he fucks his fingers into you.

His fingers leave you empty, and you start to whine, but before the sweet sound passes your lips, he smacks your cunt. Once and then twice and then finally a third time. You whine, trying to move away each time, but his strong hand holds your thigh still with ease. Fingertips digging into your thigh with each smack only makes you cry out louder.

It hurts too good. You want it to stop, but you want it to continue. You can’t decide which would be better. Your clit throbs, and your cunt clenches around nothing with the fourth and final smack. Your throat is starting to hurt from all your whining and straining to keep from screaming too loud.

“Remember to as politely,” he says against your lips. “Then Daddy won’t have to punish you, yeah?”

You nod, shaking your head up and down slowly while he smiles at you.

“Good girl,” he kisses you softly. “Now, I think it’s time I gave you a treat.”

You smile widely as he sits down, unbuckling his pants and sliding them down his hips and legs along with his underwear. It’s hard not to watch the way his cock slaps against his stomach, ready for you with a desperately swollen pink head. It’s unfair how pretty it is, really… who else would have a pretty cock?

“Come sit,” he strokes his cock once and you hurry over to him.

Straddling his legs, he helps you sink down on him. It always burns at first, stretching around him to adjust.

“So big,” you whine while hiding your face in the crook of his neck. “Too much!”

“Shhh,” he coos rubbing your back with one hand and your ass with another. “You always take it bunny; tonight is no different.”

“Daddy,” you cry as you finally take him all in.

He smirks, thrusting up once and making you bounce. “Feel so good, my precious bunny.” He holds your hips, guiding you into starting to ride him.

His hands are tight, supporting you and making you move at his pace. He’s slow, making sure you feel every drag of his cock in and out of you. Your dress falls down around his hands and your thighs, hiding everything from anyone who could possibly be passing outside the car.

“M-more,” you whine, wanting him to start thrusting up into you.

“Do you deserve more, bunny?” He holds your hips still, making you whine and look up at him. “I’m not sure you even deserve to cum. Dirty sluts don’t get to feel good.”

“But daddy please-“

His hand is fast, hitting your cheek with enough force to shut you up and turn your head. It stings but is replaced by that addicting warmth that takes over your cheeks and mind. You moan as his hand rests on your cheek, covering the redness that’s forming already.

“Open up,” his thumb drags across your bottom lip, and you part your lips.

He closes his eyes as you suck on his thumb, relaxing and letting you start riding him slowly again. He thrusts to meet you each time you come down on his cock, making you bite down on his thumb each time. He thrusts harder with each bite, which continues in an endless cycle until he pulls his thumb out to bring your face to his. He kisses you desperately, his tongue fighting your own. You moan against his lips, holding onto his shoulders tightly while he takes control of your body again.

“Don’t you dare cum.” He warns. “Not until I say, got it?”

You nod slowly while he fucks into you harder. His thrusts are rougher and more intense, signaling he’s close. It’s nearly impossible to not cum on him now, but you hold out. Fighting ever instinct telling you to cum is the hardest thing he’s ever asked of you.

“Daddy,” you whimper, feeling like you might explode. “Please!”

“Just a little more,” he pants, closing his eyes and laying his head against the backseat. “Fuck, I’m going to feel your cute little cunt up darling. I’ll have my cum dripping down your thighs and all over that little dress of yours.”

Oh, he’s definitely close. He wouldn’t talk this much if not.

“Want your cum daddy!”

“I know you do, slutty little bunny.” He leans up and kisses your neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin between your shoulder and neck.

“Daddy please, wanna cum!”

“I told you not until I say,” he slaps your ass once and you cry out.

Everything burns. Your stomach, thighs, and even your core. You’re desperate for some release but want Omi’s praise more than anything else. So, you keep fighting the urge to just let go.

“Fuck,” he moans once more, thrusting into you and holding your hips still while he cums. You feel the warm release start to dribble down his cock and out of you onto his thigh.

The bastard really didn’t let you cum… is he going to finish you off?

“Omi!” You try to ride his cock again, but he holds you still.

“Sorry bunny,” he chuckles breathlessly, his curly hair sticking to his forehead as he looks down at you. “You have to wait just a little longer.”

“Not fair!” You whine, tears stinging your eyes. “Wanna cum now! On your cock!”

“If you cheer up, I’ll tease you on the way home and keep you on the edge. I promise I’ll let you cum when we get home.” He kisses your cheeks, teasingly thrusting up into you once before pulling out. “Can you be good for daddy? If you make it until we get home, I promise I’ll reward you.”

Your eyes brighten and you perk up. “I can try,” you tell him.

--

The ride is torment. Even a bump in the road makes you moan. Kiyoomi brings you to the edge at least three times, and after that, you lose count. The only grounding part of the experience is his warm voice praising you for doing so well. It makes you weaker, every time he gives you just that little acknowledgment, and it helps you make it all the way home.

“We’re home, bunny,” he smiles at you and opens his door.

He jogs around the car and opens yours, helping you out and guiding you inside. You’re grateful for the covered garage and the short elevator ride up to his apartment. As soon as you pass the threshold of his apartment, your arms are around him and he lifts you up. He’s already hard, you giggle feeling it against your swollen cunt and watching Omi’s pants get damp from the mess you both made earlier.

“Daddy, make me cum! Please! I did what you asked.”

“You’ve been such a good girl, bunny.” He lays you down on the dining table, spreading you out for him to stand comfortably between your thighs. “Daddy is gonna make you cream around my cock.”

You thank whatever gods may be for Kiyoomi’s agile body and earnest attitude. He has his pants off quickly and his cock inside you before you can even whine again. Gasping, you reach up for him and he holds you against his body while fucking you on the table.

“Cum whenever you want, bunny, you earned it. Cum as many times as you want. I won’t stop until you’re begging me to.”

That’s all it takes. You cum, crying against his chest and clawing at him. He fucks you through it, your body limp against him and toes still curling.

“I know you have another in you, bunny. Give me another one.”

You love Sakusa Kiyoomi, you really do, but he can be cruel sometimes. Well, if you can define edging followed by overstimulation as cruel.

[stuckwith-harry]

Hide-and-seek

A/N: Oh, to be a chicken in times like these. (CW for discussion of death, nothing graphic.)

In the chicken shed it might as well still be the eighties, as though time had only gone on for the humans living in the house on the other side of the fence, but not in here, where the hens are quietly clucking and cooing and enjoying their naps, until Ginny shakes a handful of lettuce in the air like an invitation, a beckoning – then they come hurrying towards her, beaks tearing greedily at the green leaves.

When the hens have had their fill, Ginny looks over the gaggle of bickering ladies and finds her favourite amongst them, Genoveva with her warm brown feathers and clever eyes, who yells and shrieks when Ginny lifts her up by her impossibly soft belly, crouching down in the chicken shed, and pulls the disgruntled hen to her chest.

“Look, I’ll make it up to you”, Ginny tells her quietly. She fishes sweetcorn out of the front pocket of her dungarees and holds her open palm out to Genoveva, not flinching or grimacing when the sharp beak leaves little red marks on her skin as the hen gulps down her treat.

Ginny smiles.

The summer after her first year, she climbed into the chicken shed every day. She was soothed, then, by the arrhythmic clucking and the smell of fresh hay and the fact that the hens allowed her to share their company, that they did not recoil in horror at her sight.

It was her that named them, while she sat here for hours and hours with a chicken in her lap, more often than not Genoveva, who, for all her complaining, was easily the most patient of the bunch, and who nestles into her lap now, blinking slowly in the twilight while Ginny strokes her feathers, the burning inside her ribcage dull and pulsating like that of an infected wound.

Like it was her that took the damn Killing Curse to the chest.

“You’ve no idea how lucky you are”, she mutters, meeting Genoveva’s sharp eyes. “Nothing in those little heads of yours except earthworms and soft hay.”

She sits there for ages and ages like she did that summer, willing the comfort of the soft animal to sink into her like warmth. When she finally gets up to leave the chickens be, she tosses the rest of the sweetcorn into the hay (Genoveva looks utterly betrayed), fills up the grains in the feeder, and climbs out of the shed with the smell of warm feathers and wheat straw still in her nose.

“Chicken-feeding duty?”, calls a voice from near the house as she swings her bare legs over the wooden fence and strolls back towards the Burrow. When she looks for the voice’s owner, she discovers Ron, sitting on the weathered bench below the kitchen window.

“What’re you doing out here?”, she calls out as she comes closer.

“Hiding”, he says dully. “Mum’s crying again.”

Ginny feels something inside her chest take a tumble. “Is anyone with her?”

“Yeah, I’m not that much of a dickhead. Dad and Percy and Bill are all in there.”

“You’re not a dickhead”, Ginny says automatically, surprising them both. Then: “Mind if I stay?”

He shrugs. “Be my guest.”

So she sinks on the bench beside him, joining him in his grim silence. They gaze aimlessly over the soft green hills all around, the shape of the lake like a blue thumbprint in the landscape, where they whiled away so many happier, warmer days than this, and Ottery St. Catchpole’s mismatched roofs in the distance, smoke rising from the chimneys.

Ron finally looks over at her. “Were you with the chickens this whole time? I thought you’d grown out of your obsession with them.”

Ginny musters up a grin. “Never. I love those stupid hens. That was just an elaborate ruse so I could hide in the chicken coop when we used to play hide-and-seek. It never occurred to any of you to look.”

“Well, you stopped growing at about five feet, I figure you fit right in.”

Ginny whacks him in the knee. In a true testament to the severity of the situation, Ron does not retaliate.

She tells herself it’s that, not how much they aged him, the few short months that he was gone.

It’s less blatant now that Mum has shorn back the unkempt mop of hair that was falling into his eyes and growing down the back of his neck like wild weeds when he walked through the secret entrance of the Room of Requirements with Harry and Hermione; now that he’s shaved the patchy stubble on his cheeks and his face has regained a little fullness. But sometimes she still looks at him and wonders how ten years have not passed since she watched him slip away into thin air at Bill and Fleur’s wedding.

“Did anything happen?”, she asks. “With Mum?”

Ron shrugs, expression blank. “Some fool said his name again. I never noticed how rarely we actually said the twins’ individual names until we had to break the habit of saying Fred-and-George all in one go. It’s like he’s Voldemort.”

Ginny doesn’t laugh.

“I know”, she mutters. “Don’t think it’ll ever come naturally.”

He nods mechanically. “Anyway – I made a run for it. I just couldn’t do it right then, having to comfort her and everything.”

Ginny looks over at him. “Funny, you’re so good at it.”

“You just say that because I make the best tea.”

“Well, you do.”

The same way that children can recognise each of their family members by the sound of their footsteps as heard through a wall, or the rhythmic pattern with which they knocked on the door, the Weasley siblings have learned to read each other’s silences since they’ve come home. Often now, they appear at each other’s bedroom doors at all hours of the night, shaken from nightmares or too restless to sleep or, rarely, weeping.

Most nights, two or three or four of them eventually find themselves in the kitchen, where Ginny turns on the lights, and Ron puts on the kettle, and they sit there and while away the small hours in each other’s company, in silence, in quiet understanding, in murmured chatter about nothing at all.  It’s good comfort, the idea that even after everything, there’s nothing in this world that a hot cup of tea can’t fix.

Ginny shifts on the bench next to him, pulling her knees to her chest. “Remember when that fox got one of the hens? I was inconsolable, and you were so nice to me when we put her in a shoebox and buried her behind the house, you didn’t even make fun of me.”

“You lot are different, that’s easy. I just can’t take it when it’s our parents.”

Ginny hums in understanding. “I think seeing Dad cry was worse for me. At the memorial.”

“Cheers, thanks for bringing it up again.”

She snorts.

“You’re good with Harry”, she says softly. “D’you miss him at all?”

He rolls his eyes. “He just sleeps two floors below me, it’s not like he died.”

Ginny winces.

Ron does not miss the look on her face or the heaviness of her silence, as they have all learned to do, and asks in an unnaturally light tone: “How’re you coping with him waking up three times a night?”

He seems relieved, for a moment there, when she smirks.

“It’s not too bad, actually. At least he makes for a great pillow.”

Ron looks appalled. “What the hell happened to the camp bed?”

“Oh, we just keep that around for decoration now.” She grins, comforted by the opportunity to tease him. “And he doesn’t wake up as much anymore.”

His face lights up. “That’s good news, at least. Lead with that next time.”

“Oh, he’s just … stopped going to sleep altogether.”

“That really solves that problem”, he says darkly. “The idiot.”

“I don’t think it’s purposeful”, she says. “He’s always pretending to be asleep when I look at him, but I can always tell. And when he does doze off, I’ll just stir next to him, and that’s enough to wake him up again.”

“He’s a really light sleeper these days”, Ron says apologetically. “The worst camping trip in the world will do that to a person.”

Ginny grins faintly. “Yeah, he’s mentioned it.”

“He’s talking, then?”

“Hm-hm.” She wraps her arms a little tighter around her legs. “Which is good, I guess.”

He watches her for a minute, as though unsure what to make of her tone. “Anything on your mind?”

She laughs. “Anyone ever told you you’re turning into Mum?”

“Well, we’re here anyway!”, Ron says, ears flushing. “Spit it out, will you?”

“He, uhm –”

It has not occurred to her, until right now, how difficult it would be to pass the story on, even to someone who has heard it before. Harry handed it to her because she asked him to, and still it knocked into her like a wild animal, pouncing, the weight of it like a Hippogriff standing on her chest, pinning her to the earth.

“He told me about walking into the Forbidden Forest.”

“Ah”, Ron says hollowly. “No wonder you’re hiding in a chicken coop.”

She looks around at him. “It’s not Harry I’m hiding from.”

“But you are hiding”, Ron says wisely.

Ginny shrugs. “I dunno what I expected. Somehow I’d convinced myself I already knew the worst of it. Which, as it turns out, was a bit stupid of me.”

She draws in a shaky breath.

“I thought he was in on it. Ever since I watched him come back to life at Hagrid’s feet … I thought there was some sort of plan. But there wasn’t, or Dumbledore didn’t tell him, anyway. I thought he knew he was going to survive, and it turns out that, uhm – he didn’t know shit. He went there to die, for real.”

Ginny looks back at him, words coming faster now. “And I’m – I’m so angry, and I don’t know why. Or who I’m angry with. It can hardly be Harry.”

“In all fairness, I kind of felt like punching him when he told us”, Ron says quietly, and her mouth briefly twists into something like a smile. “If anything we should be angry with Voldemort, or Dumbledore, even – but they’re not within punching distance, so what are you gonna do?”

“If Dumbledore wasn’t already dead, I would kill him”, Ginny says. “I swear, I would kill him.”

“Yeah, that sounds reasonable”, Ron says good-naturedly, patting her arm.

“And Harry – Harry keeps apologising, and I don’t know what for.”

Ron’s expression is pained. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No.”

He sighs. She handed this to him, and now he is steeling himself to hand something back to her. She can tell.

“My best guess is … for not saying goodbye.”

Ginny does not look at him. Suddenly she is blinking rapidly in the fading light, sitting there as the blow rolls over her, something blunt and violent that should have broken her ribs like the impact of a Bludger; but there is no injury, only an ache that does not abate, that sits all around her, inside her. She doesn’t think it’s ever going to go away, all that hurting, writhing and straining inside her like a second skeleton.

“How could he have? We would’ve dragged him back to the castle by the damn hair.”

“Of course we would have”, Ron says robustly.

For a moment he looks like he’s going to reach out to her, hold her, maybe. He seems to think better of it in the end, and she’s almost relieved, dreading what she’d do if someone hugged her.

It’s another thing that won’t ever come easily: showing up on someone’s doorstep, weeping.

“If it’s any consolation”, he says after a while, “I think that’s the worst of it.”

“I’ve been wondering”, she mutters. “Can’t think of very much that beats walking to your own death. No fucking wonder he doesn’t sleep.”

“It’s funny”, Ron says, “I talked to him less than an hour ago, and he seems alright, almost.”

Ginny shrugs. “Isn’t he always? Remarkably functional, considering.”

Ron makes an attempt at a smile. “It’s such a Harry thing to do, though, isn’t it? Always dying for other people. Or trying to, anyway.”

“Hardly just a Harry thing, it turns out.”

It’s all shit, she thinks when he looks at her. Being the person knocking at the door, and the one listening on the other side, opening it.

“He told me about Malfoy Manor”, she says softly.

“Ah.” Ron kicks at the dirt to his feet. “Well, then you know what keeps me up at night.”

“He said – he said you offered to swap places with Hermione. Let Bellatrix have you instead.”

“And? You would’ve done the exact same thing for him.”

Ginny almost smiles. He might as well still be the boy who stuck stubbornly by her side next to the chicken fence all night, when she couldn’t bear to head back to the house, in case the fox ever came back.

“Yeah. I would have.”

It settles on her shoulders as quickly and unnoticeably as night, rapidly falling all around them: everything she would’ve done, in a heartbeat, in an instant.

“I would’ve taken the forest, too”, she says, more to herself than to Ron. “I would’ve done it all for him.”

It seems significant, somehow, that Ron does not resist this. That maybe he knows what it felt like, to Ginny, when they walked out into the courtyard and saw Harry.

That, too, felt like a Bludger to the chest: the sight of him, a kid in Hagrid’s arms, his glasses askew. How she wished it was her lying there, dead in his place.

“Those two”, Ron says abruptly. “Some day they’re really gonna be the death of us.”

Ginny almost laughs.

“So you won’t strangle him for abandoning the camp bed?”

Ron eyes her for a moment, a sort of benevolent sternness in his expression – and Ginny was right, that’s all Mum. “Yeah, I’ll consider it.”

“I’m sorry, anyway”, she says, half-smiling. “For costing you your roommate.”

Ron sighs. “They grow up so fast.”

“And for all this, too. You were trying to hide, I didn’t mean to …”

“It’s all right. You had to find me eventually.”

[anonymousfiction211]

Camping

Summary: Loki and you have been dating for a while. He has planned a suprise camping trip.  Warnings: Smut Word count: 2.255 words A/N: Thanks so much for reading it. Decided to write Loki a little soft this time, since I was feeling romantic. If you have any ideas or suggestions, please let me know :) 

You heard a knock on the door. The clock showed that it was 12.00 p.m. right on time, as usual. Before opening the door, you looked in the mirror of your hallway. You weren’t wearing anything fancy, just a white summer dress with small straps, showing a bit of cleavage. Not too obvious, but in a classy way. You grabbed the doorknob and turned. Loki was standing in front of you with a bouquet of different flowers. When he saw you a big smile on his face appeared.  He handed you the bouquet “you look lovely, darling” he said.

You took the flowers and let him into your apartment. You went to the kitchen to cut the flowers and put them in a vase. Before you did that you smelled them. They smelled wonderful, you felt butterflies swarm through your stomach at the thought that he had remembered that lavender was your favourite flower. “Thanks, do you want something to drink of get going?” you asked him. “Get going, it is a bit of a walk. If you don’t mind” “No of course not, lead the way” You walked outside and you locked up your apartment. When you turned around you saw Loki offering his arm, which you gladly took. “Are you finally going to tell me where we’re going?” you asked. “Do I have to explain the definition of a surprise again to you?” he teased. Loki knew you didn’t like surprises, you were far too curious for that. When he told you, he had a surprise planned for your fourth date you asked so many questions, you were afraid he might leave. But he just laughed at every question you asked him, not giving any hint or sign what he had planned.

Loki laughed at your pouting face and pulled your arm a bit, to have you closed beside him. “Trust me, you’re going to like it” he whispered in your ear. The way his breath felt on your ear made your stomach jump from excitement. “Alright, fine” you fake pouted, giving you a perfect excuse to let your face rest against his upper arm. A thing Loki didn’t seem to mind at all. You walked in silence through the edge of town. That is when Loki led you to a barely visible trail in the woods. “You know the way, right?” you asked him. He gave you a smile “Of course but getting lost with you will be very enjoyable” You walked for about half an hour, making small talk on the way. You told Loki about your week and he told you what he had been up to in Asgard. You laughed hard when he told you that he let Thor think he was a snake for a whole week. And that he exchanged the flagon of beer to non-alcoholic, watching Thor and his friends act like idiots at the end of the night.

He stopped walking and pointed to the woods. “Five more minutes. I apologize, it’s not really a path but it’s manageable” You tried your best to get through it. “You know, my mother always told me not to go with strange men to the woods” “I think if they were as handsome as me, she would let you make an exception” he winked at you, making you blush. The trees started to thin out and you saw a giant lake. There was a blanket spread out with all sorts of food on it, grapes, cheese, jam, bread. Next to the blanket was a tent with the flap open. Inside stood a twin bed with a thick blanket and fluffy pillows. On the inside hung string lights, giving the whole tent a cosy look. Loki stood right behind you, wrapping you in his arms. “Surprise” he said. You were still in awe from the scenery. You turned around so you were face to face with each other. “Loki, this is absolutely amazing! But ehm.. I’m not really a camper and haven’t brought any other clothes” you said.

“I know. I have different clothes for you in the tent. As for insects, I took care of that with a spell. And instead of an air mattress there is a bed, which may or may not be that small on purpose” he grinned at you. You giggled and he pulled you closer towards him. You put your hands on his cheeks and kissed him. Wanting to break the kiss you leaned back, but Loki followed your movement and kept kissing you. You lightly slapped his chest, he broke the kiss “what?”  he asked with his most innocent voice. “I still need air!” you said while catching your breath. “Air is overrated!” he argued. “But I suppose we should eat, before the food goes bad”

The whole afternoon you spend with Loki eating, talking, and laughing. At the end of the day, you both decided to go for a swim. Loki even had a bikini for you, for which you were grateful. Until you put it on and saw it only covered the bare minimum. Sneaky guy. It didn’t take long for it to end in a water fight, which you lost of course. But since Loki had claimed a kiss as his prize, you didn’t mind that a bit. It was getting dark and start started to appear. You both dressed in your pyjamas and Loki made a fire. He spends the night talking about the stars and showing you different constellations. Giving you a perfect opportunity to get as close to him as you could and cuddle.

Loki stopped talking and you noticed he looked to be deep in thought. “Is something wrong?” you whispered. He sat up right and shuffled a little bit farther away from you. He looked into your eyes and his whole expression seemed serious, maybe even a little bit nervous. “Loki?” he flashed you a quick smile. “You know those little photo’s we took on our third date?” “Yeah those polaroids, what about them?” you wondered why he brought this up. “Well, last week I was training and apparently I had one of them in my pocket. It fell out and Thor saw, so I was forced to tell him about you. And since Odin and my mother are gone a few days next week, he keeps bothering me to meet you. So, I was wondering if you would go with me to Asgard next week?” You gasped “Asgard? Really?! Hell, yes I’ll go!” you exclaimed. Loki didn’t show any emotion at your over enthusiastic reaction. “Loki, what’s wrong?” you asked again. “Nothing, I just was wondering if I could introduce you as ehm… well we have a different word for it, but you call it girlfriend?”

You were a bit taken aback. Loki and you only recently started dating, but so far it has been amazing. It probably wasn’t a secret that you were madly in love with him, you never were a good secret keeper, or liar. But you were afraid to actually tell him that. The butterflies returned in your stomach and you didn’t have to think about your answer. “Yes you can” instead of the grin you expected you got a sceptic look. “Really?” you were surprised that he was showing his insecurity. He never had acted like this before. You leaned closer and gave him a light kiss on his lips “really” you said while looking in his eyes. That is when the expected grin showed, and Loki pulled you closer to kiss you. You slipped a hand under his shirt, stroking his abs higher to his chest. Loving the way his muscles tensed underneath your touch. Loki got hungrier with his kiss and his hand trailed from you neck down to your lower back. You knew where this was going and couldn’t wait for it.

You put your other hand on his thigh and started to trail upwards. Loki stopped kissing you and looked into your eyes. He was panting slightly and let his forehead lean against yours. “You sure?” he whispered. “Yes” you whispered back. The moment the word left your lips he picked you up, making you squeak in surprise. He laughed at your reaction and walked towards the tent. He gently laid you down on the small bed and crawled on top of you. You were kissing passionately, exploring each other’s bodies with your hands. It didn’t take long for you to take Loki’s shirt off. You moved around so you were on top of him, with your hands on his chest. You felt his heartbeat fast. You sat up right and took of your own shirt and bra. Loki let out a low growl and grabbed your shoulders to put your upper body down. In one smooth motion he flipped you around. Before you had processed what happened he had his tongue circling your nipple and his hand stroking and squeezing your other breast. When you moaned he stopped and start kissing your chest, upwards to your neck and ear. “That is my new favourite sound in the world. I think my new mission is to hear it as much as possible” he whispered to you. That promise gave you goosebumps, making Loki chuckle.

He slowly put your pants and panties down, his eyes never leaving you. There was a primal hunger in his eyes which was making you wetter by the second. Loki pushed your legs slightly apart and started the kiss the inside of our thighs. Your breath hitched and you felt yourself beginning to squirm underneath him. You felt him smile against your skin, guessing he like to make you squirm. He put your thighs against his shoulders and his hand around them, holding your hips. His tongue started to lick your clit. You couldn’t help but keep moaning at the pleasure he was giving you. He was alternating his pace, keeping you on edge. Every time you moaned a little less he would switch his pace. Your hands went to his hair, stroking and tugging while he kept going and going. When you were almost there he pushed two fingers deep inside of you. “That’s it, come for me” he said in a rough voice. You came undone moaning his name loudly. He kept drawing circles on your clit with his tongue, until you begged him to stop.

He stopped and stood up straight next to the bed. You saw a chance that you wouldn’t want to waste. You got up and kneeled before him. When Loki saw you kneeling before him he froze. You stroked the entire length of his cock. Seeing his mouth fell open a little bit. You took the tip of his cock in your mouth, slowly swirling your tongue around it. When you looked up you saw Loki with closed eyes facing towards the ceiling. You slowly took his whole cock in your mouth, setting a slow pace. You almost missed the inaudible moan that Loki made. Spurring you on you started to quicken your pace. Loki started to stroke your hair and moan a few times. He then grabbed your hair and pulled a little. You let his cock slide out of your mouth and looked at him. He offered you a hand and helped you up. He laid you back down on the bed. “That was amazing, but I really want to make you mine” he said. He lined his cock with your entrance and slowly pushed himself inside of you. He felt you up nicely. It didn’t hurt, but you knew that you would definitely feel it in the morning. Loki quickened up his pace, reaching the right spot inside of you. When you started to moan he began to kiss your neck, biting it to leave a light mark. “Loki, I- I-..” you panted. “Yes, oh yes” Loki almost screamed. When your walls clenched around him and you orgasmed he followed quickly. You felt his cum filing you up. He collapsed on top of you.

When he caught his breath, he rolled of off you. He pulled you close, laying with your head on his chest. You both enjoyed laying naked against each other for a while. You followed the way his abs were formed with your fingertips, while he was stroking your back and playing with your hair. “How exactly did the photo fall out?” you asked, finally breaking the pleasant silence. “Don’t know, accident” he replied. “But if you didn’t want him to know, couldn’t you just lie to him. Since you are the God of Lies?” you asked him. You heard his heart rate speed up and he didn’t answer you. You crawled slightly higher and leaned upwards, so you were close to his face. “You want me to meet your brother don’t you?” it didn’t last long, but you swear you could see a slight blush on his cheeks. “Are you going to keep asking questions all night, because I know a far more enjoyable way to spend it” he finally replied. You let the subject go and kissed him. He suddenly stopped and took a deep breath “I did want you to meet him and him to meet you but didn’t know how else to ask” he admitted. You smirked at him “Alright, now how about you show me the enjoyable way to spend the night?” He grinned widely at you “wrong question, darling” he said while going in for a kiss and squeezing your ass.

[tadashiwa]

it has to be you

denki kaminari x reader

word count: 3135

a/n: aaahhh this was fun and it’s my longest work to date!!! i hope u guys enjoy

warnings: sex pollen. mention of alcohol. dub-con (because of the sex pollen). daddy kink. slight size kink. unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE U TAP IT BESTIES). smut. fluff. mutual pining. confession of feelings. i think thats it? let me know if i missed any shordies

11:36pm

dont think about it. dont think about it.

the words helplessly rang through kaminari's head. yet, it was useless. no matter how hard he tried to will his brain away from what he had the absolute privilege of witnessing earlier that day, his brain could not stop. god, he felt like a perv thinking that.

it was supposed to be just another normal night patrol with you. you, his sidekick, his best friend, and the goddamn love of his life. yet, as much as he loved you, what you did today was so stupid. so fucking stupid. maybe it was because he loved you so much that he thought it was so stupid. he didn't really know.

8:42 pm

kaminari was supposed to only be gone five minutes at most. and yet, when you saw the new rising villain, desanctify, trying to break into a church, you didn't wait for him. you didn't call for backup. you went on and fought her on your own. and even when desanctify hit you with her poisonous, seductive, midnight's-evil-twin venom, you kept fighting. and somehow, through your haze of desperate arousal and aching need, you managed to get her in those hero handcuffs. and when kaminari finally caught up to you, my god were you a mess.

a mess that was so painfully attractive to kami.

that goddamn sex spell had absolutely wrecked you. after your agency gave you the rest of the night off, kami carried you back to your apartment. piggy back style proved to be easiest with your state. because, when he held you bridal style, much to his delight, or dismay, you were begging him to fuck you. you kept grabbing at his jacket and looking up at him with those doe eyes. you were distracting him so much he had to flip you around to his back.

you were both so close to your apartment, your whimpers echoing through kaminari's ears like a goddamn siren's song. your head was resting against his shoulder with your hips hovering so closely to his neck and you were still whimpering and kami could almost swear that he felt your core grinding against his back and—

finally. he reached your door.

11:53pm

of course he felt bad leaving you like that, alone in your apartment and so desperately horny you couldn't control yourself. he just figured you.... would figure it out on your own? he got off his shift in seven minutes, he was gonna call you to check in after. he was really hoping the spell had worn off by now. he's not sure he would survive a call with you if it hadn't.

it's not like you had ever shown interest in denki in the first place. sure, you were sometimes flirty and there was that one time you both drunkenly kissed on new years but he never for a second thought it was real. you could have anyone you wanted. surely your hazy desperation for him came out of a place of convenience. he couldn't afford to think otherwise.

finally, his shift ended. as he walked to the subway stop closest to him he pulled out his phone, prepared to call you and check i—

FIFTY SEVEN MISSED CALLS FROM YOU?!?!?!

kami was freaking out. were you okay? were you hurt? what was going on? what if you needed him and he was too late again?

his panic subsided when he saw the texts pouring in from you. well, he was still panicked. just for another reason.

texts of you begging for him were coming through in droves. he lost count of how many times he had to scroll. it was adorable and simultaneously terrifying. it made his blood thrum in his ears and his cheeks get hot.

and there were voicemails too.

voicemails of you whining his name. of you begging for him. telling him how badly you wanted him to make you cum. god.

surely this had to be a prank, right? you had to be messing with him. he called you, just like he said he would, expecting you to be laughing hysterically on the other end.

except you weren't.

you were still whining desperately for him. how your own fingers werent enough. how you needed his cock inside you or you think you might die.

kaminari genuinely felt as if he had died and gone to heaven. there's no way, right? he couldn't. you're not thinking straight. you didn't mean that. but you almost sounded like you were in pain. he was sure everyone on the subway could hear how hard his heart was beating.

"kami—they.. they said that... ngh—they said that it only—hah—only goes away if so-someone makes you c-cum—shit!"

all the color drained from his face.

"it—it has to be you."

12:31am

despite every nerve ending in his body absolutely reeling, kaminari found himself standing at your door. the same door he stood at all those times when he came to pick you up on your way to the agency. the same door he stood at when he made sure you got home safe when you were drunk. the same door he used as a shield from the unknown, the intimacy that made all of your flirting and side comments real.

he knocked once. twice. no answer. his fingers drifted down to the knob itself and gave it an experimental twist. unlocked.

he knocked once more. still no answer. then, with every ounce of courage he could muster, he let himself in. the shield was gone. the barrier was crossed. there he was, standing in his apartment, and you were deadset on fucking him.

"y/n? i'm here.... you uh... you didn't answer so i just let myse—" his call out to you is cut off by quite possibly the most pornographic moan he had ever heard.

it was almost as if his body was in a trance as he walked towards the source of the noise. the moans weren't stopping. denki was already hard at the sound of them. to make matters worse, your bedroom door was open and—

holy shit.

kaminari had seen his fair share of early morning sunrises. his fair share of cherry blossoms. he'd seen plenty of girls who he was convinced were the prettiest girls on earth. but you, you were breathtaking. genuinely ethereal. kaminari had never seen anything so gorgeous in his life. he didn't think he would ever again.

there you were, in one of his shirts he had let you borrow and nothing else. the pillow between your legs wet with your slick as you desperately dragged your clit against it, looking for any sort of release. one hand balanced you as the other played with your breast, pulling the shirt up to reveal your midsection in the process.

and when your eyes met his, kaminari was sure: this is heaven.

your pupils dilated so large at the sight of him that the y/e/c rings surrounding them disappeared. your bottom lip was pulled tight in between your teeth, your hair a mess. my god. just when kaminari thought it couldn't get any better, you spoke. without breaking eye contact, you whined,

"denki, please."

kami rushed towards you with such a sense of urgency you would've thought that he was a man starved.

"sh-shh-shhh, it's okay. it's okay, i'm here now."

in your sex-crazed daze, you pulled denki onto the bed next to you, his back leaning against your headboard. you were quick to straddle his thigh, almost collapsing at the contact you had craved for so fucking long.

denki didn't think he could possibly be any more turned on than he was in that moment. you held his shoulders in an attempt to balance yourself, dragging your clit over his thigh. you were making a mess out of his hero costume but he couldn't be bothered to care in the slightest. not when the pressure of you against him felt so right. not when he could feel your breath fanning against his ear. not when he was still processing the fact that you said you only wanted him on that phone call. nothing else mattered except the way you moved against him.

where should he put his hands? should he help you? should he take the shirt off of you? yeah, denki wasn't a virgin, but this was his first time with someone he cared about as much as you. he wanted to make you feel good.

you remedied his racing mind when you placed one of his hands on your hip and the other on one of your tits. he experimentally rolled your nipple over in between his fingers and was met by more of your delicious mewls.

you were so close to cumming. the entire situation was so overwhelming. denki smelled so good. his hands were so rough against your smooth skin. the way his eyes flickered between your face and your drooling cunt had your heart racing.

the rhythm in your movements was lost the more worked up you got. it took all the confidence denki could gather to take over for you. he flexed his thigh muscle as he pulled down on your hips to grind you against him harder. you had half the mind to be embarrassed at how loud the moan that was ripped from your throat was.

"'m close, denki i-i'm close—" you whimpered.

"cmon pretty girl—ngh—cum for me. cum all over me like a good girl." denki's raspy, arousal soaked voice was all it took for you to come undone all over him. you threw your head back, exposing your throat that was just begging to be marked. you were begging to be claimed.

little "so good"s and "thank you"s were tumbling from your lips as you came down from your high. god, were you a sight to behold. denki was so painfully hard he wasn't sure if he could take it any longer.

he was half expecting you to come to and ask him to leave.

but you didn't.

you started moving again.

"more, i need more. daddy, please, i need more—"

what did you say?

the title snapped any remaining resolve denki had left. he had to have you.

he gently lifted you off of his thigh and you groaned at the loss of contact. but, your complaints were silenced as he slid down the bed.

holy shit.

all those dreams you had of denki making you cum couldn't even begin to prepare you for when he pulled you forward to sit on his face. you almost came just at the way his eyes met yours. he wanted this just as much as you did.

the feeling of his tongue kitten licking your clit was heavenly. your senses were overloaded with him. the way his lips felt against your core. the way his hair framed his face like a halo. the way his hands dug into your thighs so tight you couldn't even consider moving. you absolutely lost your mind when he slid two fingers into your hole. they were so much bigger than yours. they reached that spot inside you that you couldn't on your own. and when you felt a little spark of electricity on your clit, you were sent tumbling over the edge and into a state of pure bliss.

"kami, kami, fuck, i-i'm cumming!"

he found your pathetic babbles in an attempt to warn him adorable.

surely after you had came all over his face you would snap out of your haze. feel disgusting. ask him to leave.

and yet, you didn't.

"need you. need you to fuck me." you quietly expressed between whimpers.

"y/n, a-are you sure? i don't wanna take advantage of you or anything-"

"yes i'm sure, please! i've wanted this for so long. i need you." your eyes met his as you begged and it, it sounded like you. not like the spell that overtook you. you were desperate, but you were genuine.

kami swore he had never seen someone look so fucking beautiful in his life.

and he couldn't tear his eyes off of you as he flipped you both over, his hips hovering over yours.

while the thought of denki being fully clothed as he wrecked you turned you on more than you cared to admit, you wanted to touch him. you wanted to feel his skin against yours.

denki laughed breathlessly at the way you grabbed at the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head. he slid his pants down enough to free his aching cock, the head red and leaking with proof of his arousal.

you don't think you would've torn your eyes away from the way he stroked himself for all the money in the world.

"what, you like what you see?" kami attempted to ease the tension, noticing your stare.

"kami."

"what?"

you pulled his head down to meet yours as your lips connected in a kiss. not a drunken new years eve kiss. not a kiss of desire and convenience through your sex crazed daze. a real kiss. a real fucking kiss. he whimpered into your mouth at the intimacy of it all.

god, he was in love with you.

he slid the head of his cock over your slit, gathering your juices. shy, his eyes met yours.

"are you sure?"

"yeah."

the feeling of him sinking into you drove both of you mad. he was so big. bigger than anyone you’ve ever taken. and you were so, so, so goddamn tight. the room was silent apart from the sound of your tangled whimpers and moans. 

he looked down to where your bodies met and, oh man, was it a beautiful sight. your hips looked so small compared to his one hand holding you in place. it felt as though your tight little cunt was made for him. 

“princess, look at it. look at how good you take me.” you opened your eyes through the pleasure mixed with pain and he was only halfway in. how the hell was he so big? you moaned at the sight of him sinking into you. “can i keep going, babydoll? you gonna take daddy一ngh一take daddy all the way like a good girl? cmon, princess, you’re doing so good.”

denki was always a talker. he was funny. he was flirty. he was kinda stupid. but you never expected that his words could get you impossibly hornier. in that moment, all you wanted to do was please him. “daddy, keep going, keep going please. i wanna cum all over your cock, please.”

with the way you begged for him to fill you up, denki didn’t think he could wait to feel himself bottom out. he buried his head in your neck, pushing in until he was fully sheathed inside of you. god, he sounded heavenly.

“fucking shit, doll. how are you so tight?” your pussy held his cock in a vice grip. his best girl, making him so proud. 

“denki, denki,”

“what’s that?” his hand on his hip drifted up to your jaw, gripping your chin and leading you to look into his eyes.

“mmh--daddy,”

good girl.

“daddy, ‘m gonna cum, wanna cum so bad,”

“pl-please don’t! i wanna cum with you, if that’s okay? please don’t cum yet.” it was almost cute how his attempt at dominance faded as he begged you. the idea itself sounded heavenly. 

“yeah, yeah, okay, just--please move. please.”

denki placed his hand holding your chin on the bed next to you as he pistoned his hips in and out of you. a moan was torn from your throat as denki’s eyes rolled back into his head.

his pace didn’t increase as he smiled at how your face contorted impossibly hotter.

“you like that? huh? you like when一shit一you like when daddy fucks you nice and slow?”

in all honesty, denki hated how slow he forced himself to fuck you. he just wanted to hear you beg.

“faster!”

“then beg for it.”

you rolled your eyes as you decided to ruin denki just as bad. “daddy, please, please, please fuck me, i’ve wanted your cock for so long i just need you to fuck me! please, i’ll be good, i swear! I need you to fuck me like i deserve. like your bad little girl. please!” 

the direct eye contact you held as you begged him drove kami feral. you smirked as you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

“haah一whatever you want, angel.” denki’s hips slammed in and out of you faster than your brain could process. the sounds of skin meeting skin mixed perfectly with the sound of his breathy little moans and you screaming his name.

kami wrapped one of your legs around his waist, the new angle making his cock stroke that spot inside you just right. kami knew he struck gold when he felt the way you gripped him impossibly tighter.

“yeah? ‘s that the spot? ‘m i making you feel good? tell me im making you feel good.” deep down, you both knew that his words came from a spot of needing to please you. he masked his insecurities with a false sense of dominance. for his sake, you pretended not to notice.

“yeah! god, yeah, right there. god you’re making me一hnngh一making me feel so good.”

“shit, doll, ‘m getting close.” denki’s forehead met yours as one of his hands wrapped gently around the column of your throat. 

you were a goddamn wreck. you needed his cum inside of you so bad. the decision to tell him so proved to be the straw to break the camel’s back.

“cum for me, daddy. cum inside me. please.”

with that, kami gave one, two, three, half hearted strokes before cumming deep inside you. the feeling of his cum filling you up snapped the coil building inside of you. you squirted all over his cock as his pelvis bone dragged against your clit. denki didn’t have any strength left in him left to do anything but whine at the sight. 

2:18 am

you’re not sure when either of you collapsed in sleep. yet, when you woke up an hour later, you felt like you had been hit by a car.

you stood up and tried to waddle to the bathroom, but you almost fell to the floor as you attempted to move. Denki heard the squeak of your mattress as you flopped back down. 

“where--where are you going?” denki asked you, sitting up. his raspy voice was so hot. god, was it everything this man did? did he just live to make you horny?

“i need to pee.”

“then go pee.”

“i--i can’t walk.”

denki stared clueless through the dark. why couldn’t you walk?

oh. 

his face turned bright red.

“do you, uh, need… help?” he sensed more than saw you nod. he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and walked around the bed. he collected you in his arms as he supported your weight and walked you to the bathroom door. in the bathroom light, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the hickeys littering your neck.

he waited outside the bathroom until he heard the faucet turn off. you slid back into his arms as you opened the door.

it was like you belonged there.

denki wanted to say something. he wanted to ask. he had to know. did you really want what happened? was it a one time thing? were you mad at him? he was terrified of you asking him to leave. 

“denki, what?” you asked quietly as you both walked back.

“huh?” 

“i know you’re thinking about something.” you both sat back on the bed.

“no i’m not! i’m all good.” he smiled and scratched the back of his neck. 

“denki, i know you. talk to me.” you put your hand over his in the dark. god, you were not making this easy.

“it’s, i just, what was that? did you want that? did i take advantage of you? are you okay?”

“denki.” 

“was i okay? are we ever gonna do that again? i mean, i’d like to but not if you don’t want--”

“denki.”

“do you even know how i feel about you?”

“denki.”

the raise of your voice was gentle. you weren’t mad. it sounded like you were smiling. you turned your head to face him. he could see your eyes sparkle through the dark.

“i don’t regret anything about what we just did. you didn’t take advantage of me. i’m okay.  that was the best sex i’ve ever had, and honestly, i’ve wanted to do that for a really long time.”

denki let out a breath he didn’t know that he was holding. “wait, what was that last part?” you could hear the tease and smile in his voice through the dark.

“i’ve wanted to do that for a really long time.” your voice was small.

“oh. me too.” his voice was smaller.

you were quiet for a few moments before you both gathered everything left inside of you as you turned to face each other.

“i’m in love with you.” you said in tandem.

you both were too shy to do anything except stare at each other and smile.

“you mean that?” he asks.

“yeah. do you?”

“yeah.”

he leaned forward to capture your lips in a sleepy kiss. he missed the first time, and his lips landed on the space between your lips and your nose. you both giggled.

not to sound cliche, but the kiss was magical. you felt like you did back in UA, staring at the ceiling and thinking about how kami called you gorgeous that day. you felt like you did when you kissed him that new years eve, those feelings bubbling up inside of you. if denki knew that was how you felt, he would’ve said he felt the same way, just times ten. times a thousand.

“hey y/n?”

“yeah?”

“can i uh, take you out tomorrow night?”

“kaminari, I just begged you to cum inside me and you’re asking to take me out on a date?”

he giggled. “yeah.”

“of course you can take me out tomorrow night.” kaminari licked his lips and smiled.

“good. WAIT-” 

“yes, denki, i’m on the pill!”

he flopped back against the mattress. “thank god!”

[ickle-ronniekins]

embrasse moi

request: from nonnie! “please can you do a super competitive fred and reader story and idk do with that what u will I trust your judgement”

pairing: fred x french!slytherin!reader

word count: 1.7k

A/N: i am ~feelin~ this request rn. i know quidditch wasn’t a thing during the triwizard tournament when faux moody was teaching just humor me. didn’t realize how much i need a french speaking fred until i wrote this 😩 also i definitely do not speak french and i've used google translate so i apologize in advance if any phrases are wrong LOL. i'll put the what the translations are supposed to be underneath the paragraphs they appear in and @ the bottom with an asterisk *

warning(s): a curse word (oops sry); ~steam~

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @dreamer821 @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbystrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu @annasofiaearlobe @starlightweasley @alwaysasadaesthetic @thisismysketchbook | message me to be added, loves!

“Slytherin wins!”

Fred watched as you threw your beater’s bat into the air while you did backflips on your broomstick in front of all of your teammates. He huffed dramatically; he normally didn’t fancy losing a match to Slytherin, but you showing off was just rubbing salt into the wound.

“Don’t think on it, mate,” George told his twin. He looked absolutely bloody exhausted. Ever since Slytherin had replaced their beaters who had graduated the year before, their team was unstoppable. You sort of stunned the entire school when you arrived at tryouts and crushed it, making the students question why in the bloody hell you hadn’t ever tried out for Quidditch in the first place.

As the Gryffindor team walked sluggishly back toward the changing rooms, the vile Slytherin team captain did not hold back from overly-complimenting his team, therefore firing shots in the Gryffindors’ direction.

“Never seen a more brilliant beater before,”

Fred rolled his eyes noticeably. As your teammates patted you on the back, Fred just scoffed loudly, hoping to grab your attention. When he saw that he had, he turned to George and Harry and said, “She wasn’t that brilliant.” George just shut his eyes and shook his head, sick of Fred’s constant complaining.

“Aw -- vous vous sentez mal, Fred? Ne sois pas si mauvais perdant.”

          ↳ “Are you feeling bad, Fred? Don’t be such a sore loser.”

You earned yourself another eye roll for that one.

“Speak bloody English, would you woman?” he said angrily.

You pursed your lips dramatically in his direction. If he hadn’t been so pissed off, he would’ve noticed how his heart rate had seemed to increase at the fluttering of your eyelashes as you winked at him. Except he’d always been too focused trying to one-up you to notice such things. “Better luck next time, Weasley.”

It wasn’t just Quidditch. It was everything. Charms, incantations, exploding snap games, hexes -- even things Fred absolutely loathed doing, like stupid readings in Divination. It had all started back in your first year, when you were able to kick off the ground first in your flying lesson; you were a Muggleborn and had no idea how to fly. This annoyed Fred to no end, because he’d been flying since he could walk! And ever since, you two fell into this intense competitive streak, not giving into one another. George sure was over it though. Had been for a long time.

He gently tugged on Fred’s robes to lead him back toward the Gryffindor changing rooms, but it was a lost cause. Fred was already ripping off his uniforms due to pure anguish. George sucked in a deep breath before leaving his brother on the pitch. “Bloody hell, here we go again.”

-- -

The next day, Fred was struggling to get through classes due to his lack of sleep from the night prior, and it didn’t help when he was partnered up with you in Defense Against the Dark Arts in Moody’s attempt to separate him and George. Begrudgingly, his feet carried him over toward your desk where you stood, arms crossed and smirk bright. George on the other hand looked particularly jovial to be very far away from the two of you.

“Professor?”

Moody growled. “Not now, Weasley. Time to practice nonverbal hexes with your partner. No complaints.”

Fred huffed a bit and turned toward you. You cocked your head to the side, “What’s the matter? Scared you won’t be able to out hex me?” You narrowed your eyes at him and deepened your grin.

Fred scoffed. “I can out hex you in my sleep.”

You rolled your eyes and muttered under your breath, “Pauvre, gentil garçon. Tellement naïf.”

          ↳ “Poor, sweet boy. So naive.”

He didn’t even bloody care what you’d said, he was just so ready for this lesson to be over. He positioned himself a few feet away from you and stood in a rather dramatic, annoyed stance, waiting for you to just do your worst, already.

Your eyes seemed to darken with concentration. Fred was hoping that the slight smirk he painted on his face would be enough to distract you, but he was unfortunately proven wrong. Suddenly his knees were reversed and he began to falter on his own two feet. You and a few others surrounding you both, including his own twin, fell into laughter.

“Walk much, Weasley?”

His eyes turned to slits as he reversed the hex back, ignoring the crimson colour flooding his cheeks and the laughs still bouncing around the room. You still wiggled your eyebrows at him as he took his own position, pointing his wand toward you. He really needed to bloody concentrate, but the sing-song sound of your voice as you rattled off phrases in your native tongue sent him spiraling. He focused his thoughts solely on the one word: Titillando. He might’ve been distracted, but still managed to hex you.

Your laughter grew due to the tickling that took you over. You fell to your knees and giggled like a little school girl, grabbing at your arms and legs and back as the tickling sensation only heightened. Fred waltzed over to you, confidence exuding him, and lifted his eyebrows at you. He grinned evilly. “Got you.”

Somehow he found himself centimeters from you. He slowly lifted his wand and reversed the hex, and you were now completely out of breath, staring up at him with beady eyes. He took your hand in a tight grip and pulled you to your feet. He could feel your breath on his neck. “Sanglant brillant,” you managed to say in a breathless whisper.

          ↳ “Bloody brilliant.”

He certainly didn’t need you to translate that one. He wiggled his eyebrows at you and breathed, “Glad you think so.”

Shit. You didn’t realize you’d said it aloud, and you hadn’t managed to realize how close he was to you. You pushed on his chest and walked out of his way, fixing your tie and cardigan before sighing deeply to rid yourself of your flustered feelings. You cleared your throat and said, “Again.”

Cheekiness overtook his expression. “Looking for me to out jinx you again, are we?”

“Just do it, Fred.”

“Why can’t you just finally admit that I’m better than you? Put this whole thing to rest --?”

You cut him off. “Tu n'es pas! You stupid boy --” you wandered toward the entrance of the classroom; you needed some air, he was driving you up a wall. You stepped into the empty corridor. “Don’t let this foolishness go to your head. I’ve always been better, I always will be better.”

          ↳ “You are not!”

Fred laughed. “You’re out of your mind, what on earth --”

“It’s obvious!” you cried, throwing your arms up into the air. You inched forward toward him, and you were able to see the veins in his neck protruding just a bit; you were clearly getting to him. The tips of his ears were bright underneath that red hair of his. “Just admit it to me, Weasley. You can’t handle a girl being better at you -- better at hexes, better at lessons, better at Quidditch. Better at everything.” You stood on the tips of your toes in an attempt copy his stance. “And it’s driving you bloody mad, isn’t it?”

Fred sucked in a very deep breath and clenched his jaw tightly to suppress his anger.

Still, you prodded. “Isn’t it?”

Fred just wanted you to shut up already. So in a moment of fury, he growled and immediately pushed you against the wall and pressed his lips to yours in an attempt to silence you. He felt your shock against him as he parted your lips with his tongue, willing himself to not be distracted by the faint taste of your cherry lip balm. When he was sure you’d be silent, he slowly pulled away from you and let the shock roam through him too.

There was fire in your eyes. You blinked slowly a few times and eyed him up and down, as if trying to make sense of your own thoughts. Fred was sure you were about to deck him for being a right git until you lifted your hand and yanked on his tie and whispered, “Encore. Embrasse moi encore.”

          ↳ “Again. Kiss me again.”

He didn’t need a translator for that, either. He watched you lick your lips before he pressed himself into you again. You both met one another’s hunger with an intensity you couldn’t quite understand, but Fred reckoned this was probably the underlying reason for all of the competition between you two. How could he have possibly missed it all these years?

The idea of heading back inside the classroom for the lesson completely slipped from his mind when you grabbed two fistfuls of his hair in your hands and pressed your chest hard into his. By the muffled sigh you emitted against his mouth, he was sure he was driving you mad, and he was hellbent on getting you to be the first one to break with a moan.

But a low, unamused grunt ripped you apart from one another -- Fred was shocked that something had managed to break the ferocity between you both. You bit down on your bottom lip as you both turned to be face to face with a very disturbed and annoyed looking Mad-Eye, and George cracking up right behind him. You quickly swatted Fred’s hand away from your exposed hipbones, but he was pretty sure Moody had noticed anyway.

“Back inside,” your professor growled simply to both of you. In a lower voice, Mad-Eye continued, “I’ve got to be barking mad -- I did not sign up for this..” George winked at his brother and mouthed something that slightly resembled a Knew it, I bloody knew it, before making his way back into the classroom.

Fred turned back toward you and glanced down at your red and swollen lips. “Ready for me to out hex you again?” he asked with a glint of cheekiness in his voice.

“In your dreams, Fred,” you replied, narrowing your eyes and swatting him across the chest in your usual irritated tone. He was about to drag you back into the classroom but you yanked on his tie once more. The sultriness in your voice that dripped from your mouth made him not want to focus on the lesson at all; he’d rather think about many, many other things instead. “First -- embrasse moi, you prat.”

          ↳ “Kiss me,”

“Mmm,” he replied hungrily, licking his own lips in anticipation of getting you alone later. But he could get you riled once more, right? In more ways than one? He absolutely adored the completely startled and impressed look in your eye when he replied to you in French, “Bien sûr mon amour.”

          ↳ “Of course, my love.”

* vous vous sentez mal, Fred? Ne sois pas si mauvais perdant. - Are you feeling bad, Fred? Don’t be such a sore loser.

* Pauvre, gentil garçon. Tellement naïf - Poor, sweet boy. So naive.

* Sanglant brillant. - Bloody brilliant.

* Tu n'es pas! - You are not!

* Encore. Embrasse moi encore. - Again. Kiss me again.

* Bien sûr mon amour. - Of course, my love.

[writingxfootballl]

know that it’s you (g.w.)

(ginny weasley x reader)

it only took seven years for you to get your happy ending. 

warnings: mentions of death, light cursing, men, sarcasm, and no capitalization

word count: ~2.5k

a/n: first hp fic! hope i did okay- i tried my best to capture ginny’s character but it’s not perfect <3

format inspired by @ravenclawwriting ‘s masterpiece- “turning time”

title- hold on, flor

——

first year 

the aura of confidence she gives off smacks you straight in the face when she passes by you on the platform. 

not that you needed any help noticing her. 

her flowing red hair caught your eye almost immediately. 

oh how you wished to be her friend. 

~~

“gryffindor!” 

you let out a sigh of relief. 

slowly you pick yourself up and walk to the table, where the pretty red headed girl is sitting. 

she looks up and smiles at you, gesturing for you to take a seat next to her.

when you do, she sticks out her hand and introduces herself. 

“ginny weasley.”

taking her hand, you do the same. 

“y/n y/ln.”

~~

when ginny goes missing later that year, you blame yourself. 

you should’ve noticed that she was getting quieter and quieter.

you should’ve noticed that she would be gone for hours. 

you should’ve noticed. 

when she disappears for a few days, she takes your heart with her.

so when harry fucking potter swoops in and saves her, you let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, and it feels like your heart can finally beat normally again. 

second year

now that you got her back, you were inseparable. 

screw fred and george, you were the new duo at hogwarts.

just kidding, no one could beat the iconic mischief seeking twins, but you sure gave professors a run for their money. 

the red headed girl always seemed to have something up her sleeve, and no matter good or bad, you followed her. 

~~

that summer, you’re invited to the burrow for the first time. 

the two of you share a room, and what started out as separate beds and shy company slowly turned into fleeting glances and lingering touches.

hand holding, cheek kisses and cuddling, all the “platonic” displays of affection. 

and then, ginny invites you to the quidditch world cup. 

you’ve never been a quidditch fan, but you’d go a thousand times over if she asked you. 

really, you’d do a lot of things if she asked you. 

third year

you can see her concern for harry when he gets drawn for the triwizard tournament.

it makes you want to rip his head off. 

and then, slowly, you begin to notice it all. 

how when you were constantly staring at ginny, her eyes followed a certain boy’s every move. 

how she’s a flushed, nervous, bumbling wreck around him, so different from the confident and assured girl you knew.

it makes you want to rip his head off even more.

but you don’t know why. 

harry’s always been a nice guy. 

arrogant, sure, but a nice guy, certainly someone you shouldn’t hate.

so you ask hermione. 

~~

the golden girl just laughs when you tell her. 

“oh, my dear y/n, you’re just jealous.”

now you’re even more confused. 

“jealous? why would i be jealous?”

hermione chuckles a little bit and looks up from her book. 

“you fancy her y/n.”

you scoff a little at that. 

“me? fancying ginny? no way!”

hermione rolls her eyes and motions for you to leave her to her studying, before mumbling quietly:

“no wonder you were sorted into gryffindor and not ravenclaw.”

~~

you’re determined to somehow prove hermione wrong.

so when seamus asks you to the ball, you consider accepting. 

but then you think about ginny.

your sweet, beautiful ginny.

you tell him you’ll get back to him, before running across the school to the courtyard, where you know she’s at. 

your question somehow makes it through the panted breaths and heaves. 

“would you like to go to the yule ball with me?”

ginny’s face splits into a grin. 

“i would love to.”

~~

when you see ginny at the ball, you have to remember how to breathe. 

“you look stunning.”

ginny blushes a little at your compliment. 

“so do you.”

your heart races in your chest at her words. 

you clear your throat at the silence that follows and- 

“so, shall we dance?”

you smile and nod graciously, taking her hand and following.

with one of her hands on your waist and the other tightly clasped in yours, hermione’s words flash in your mind.

“you fancy her y/n.”

your eyes meet and you can’t believe you’ve never taken the time to admire how much of a golden honey color they are. 

but then. 

of course. 

“hey um- could i speak to you ginny?”

dean fucking thomas.

ginny lets go of you almost immediately. 

she glances at you apologetically, and despite the nagging ache in your chest, you nod and let her go.

after she leaves with him, the rest of the ball passes in a blur, where you can’t focus on anything else except the tenuous strain of your heart. 

maybe hermione was right after all.

fourth year

turns out hermione was right. 

so very very right. 

ginny had you wrapped around her finger. 

and for the most part, this year wasn’t bad. 

with the exception of dean of course. 

when he comes into the picture, it shatters you. 

but she couldn’t know that. 

so you listened to her talk about him, biting back the i could treat you better from the tip of your tongue. 

~~

despite the fact that ginny has a boyfriend, the two of you grow closer. 

you’re both members of the DA, helping each other with spells and practicing in your free time.

“ugh gin it’s not working-“

ginny rolls her eyes at you. 

“it’s not that hard y/nn, do you want to watch me do it again?”

you nod enthusiastically and ginny giggles a little. 

“alright move aside then.”

you move and watch from the side, somehow ending up eyeing along her side profile rather than watching her hex. 

eyebrows furrowed, lip bitten in concentration-

dear godric she’s so pretty-

“y/n are you even watching?!”

you shake your head and blush before stuttering out: 

“u-uh, s-sorry could you d-do it again?”

ginny watches you with an amused smirk and takes a step in, closer to you. 

“you’re kind of cute you know that?” 

her finger tracing your jaw, she emphasizes the end of her sentence with a pop and a nose tap.

your mouth drops open, and all the blood in your body rushes to your cheeks.

ginny steps away and seeing that you were still frozen there, turns back and teases: 

“aw come on y/n, the bat bogey hex isn’t going to learn itself now is it?”

merlin, this girl was going to be the death of you. 

~~

when ginny tells you she broke up with dean, you want to go out and scream in happiness.

but instead, you stay put and say, “aw gin im so sorry, i’ll be here if you need me.”

you’re woken up later that night when ginny crawls into bed with you. 

with her face buried in your neck and her hands wrapped loosely around your waist, you can’t help the smile teasing the corners of your lips.

it’s everything you’ve ever asked for.

fifth year

then, fifth year happens.

you could see harry and ginny growing closer and closer, and it felt like she was leaving you behind. 

your weekly hogsmeade trips slowly became less and less intimate, as the golden trio began joining the two of you.

a butterbeer was poked at mindlessly with a straw by you at the three broomsticks, all while listening to ginny chat with harry, and ron chat with hermione. 

it doesn’t surprise you when ginny and harry disappear together after a little while. 

it doesn’t surprise you when ginny starts spending less time in your room, and more time in his. 

it doesn’t surprise you when you spot ginny with her head on his shoulder one day.

it doesn’t surprise you, but it still stings. 

it stings a lot.

sixth year

the golden trio is gone for almost the entirety of this year. 

before they leave, harry breaks up with ginny, and she doesn’t react really. 

she accepts it. 

but you’re there for her even if she says she’s fine and she doesn’t need it. 

then one day, she needs it. 

~~ 

you walk into your room to see her sitting on her bed. 

it takes you a second to realize she’s crying. 

you’re by her side immediately.

“oh gin- what’s wrong?”

she doesn’t say anything, just turning to you and without a word, you wrap your arms around her. 

and you stay like that for a while. 

when she goes quiet, you whisper out:

“gin?” 

and then you realize she’s fallen asleep. 

you try to bite back your poorly contained smile, gently guiding the girl off your shoulder and onto your lap. 

you softly tuck a loose, fiery red strand behind her ear, a blush lightly tinting your cheeks when she exhales softly in her sleep.

merlin, i love you.

your cheeks flush even more when she grasps the front of your robes, pulling herself even closer to you. 

with your heart hammering in your chest, it’s a wonder ginny hasn’t woken up yet.

you pull out your transfiguration textbook quietly, and try your best to focus on the page, rather than the girl laying there on your lap. 

it doesn’t work. 

but for once, all is well. 

~~

eventually, you get absorbed into your studies, distracted enough to miss the girl on your lap beginning to stir.

your brows are furrowed as you scribble down the last words of your essay, and you bring your quill up to your lips before ginny’s hand gently pushes them away, startling you. 

“don’t do that, you’ll stain your teeth.”

you blush sheepishly and drop your hand.

“you’re awake.”

ginny smiles. 

“well i’m talking to you aren’t i?”

you grin softly.

“i suppose you are.”

ginny rolls her eyes and sighs, her brown eyes locking with yours immediately after.

her hand comes up to tuck a loosed strand of hair behind your ear and suddenly, the air seems to thicken. 

for a moment, neither of you move, too caught up in each other’s eyes. 

when ginny’s eyes drop down to your lips you can hear your breath catch in your throat. 

you feel yourself being pulled in by some invisible force, your eyes dropping down- 

then neville knocks on the door, and just like that, the spell is broken. 

“y/n- oh hey ginny.”

ginny sits up and darts away from you so quickly you would’ve missed it if you blinked.

“what’s up nev?”

neville shuffles nervously. 

“sorry for catching you at a bad time- um it’s just that professor mcgonagall wanted to see-.”

“all right i’ll be there in a minute.”

neville nods and then, it’s back to the two of you. 

it’s quiet for a moment before you both speak. 

“you should-“

“i really-“

both of you stop and flush a little before you continue. 

“i really should go see what that was about.”

ginny nods and gestures for you to leave. 

and you do, not before taking her hand and pulling her up into a tight hug.

“i’ll see you later?” 

ginny nods. 

“yeah. later.”

~~

when the golden trio returns to hogwarts and all hell breaks loose, the two of you are separated. 

in fact, you haven’t seen most of the weasleys since the war began. 

you’re left alone with neville for the majority of the fight, and you spend most of it worrying about ginny. 

one day when you’re just walking along the edge of the forbidden forest, you catch a glimpse of red hair on the opposite side of the field. 

your breath catches in your throat.

as you get closer, you can tell who it is. 

and then you start running. 

~~

your body almost collides with hers as you wrap your arms around her. 

at first, there’s relief.

“you’re here you’re here you’re-“

ginny shushes you and pulls you in tighter, drawing out the sob you tried to hard to keep down. 

then the relief turns to anger. 

and frustration. 

you pull away from the hug abruptly and ginny sends a confused look your way. 

“ginevra molly weasley! if you ever, ever do that again i’ll-“

“aw, seems like someone missed me.”

you scoff.

“don’t joke! i thought you were killed- gin you have no idea i was so worried- worried about where you were, what you did-“

the rest of your confession is cut off when ginny grabs your tattered tie, pulls you in, and kisses you. 

it’s quick.

lips unmoving, it’s really more of a peck than a kiss. 

but it still hit you the same way. 

ginny pulls back abruptly when you don’t react, but taking the smile that graced your lips as a good sign, leans back in. 

this time, you’re ready for her.

your arms wrap around her neck, her’s falling to your waist, and finally, you’re content. 

it’s soft and sweet and then there’s tongue and lips and teeth and you really can’t believe this is happening-

“hey y/n! quit snogging my sister!”

ron’s exclamation startles you. 

you flush red, and break the kiss, trying to pull away from ginny out of embarrassment, but she keeps an arm firmly attached to your waist. 

hermione grins next to ron.

“about time you two. about time.”

~~

harry defeats he who must not voldemort in probably what is the most anticlimactic final battle ever.

but just like that, 

the war’s over.

seventh year

propped against a tree, ginny runs a hand through your hair, the other tangled with yours in front of your chest. 

“hey.”

ginny smiles softly down at you. 

“hey to you too.”

“i love you.”

the red headed girl smiles and leans down to give you a soft kiss before replying.

“i love you too y/n.”

your smile is almost blinding, and out of pure happiness, you confess:

“i’ve loved you since third year gin, did you know that?”

the red headed girl almost looks surprised.

“i was gross third year.”

you scoff and mutter: 

“you could never be gross.”

ginny just laughs and leans down again. 

“i love you y/n. i really do. i’m sorry it took so long for me to realize.”

you look up at your girlfriend with pure adoration in your eyes.

with her lips on yours and fingers tangled together, it felt like the world was finally at peace again. 

ginevra weasley was your happily ever after. 

cheesy ending, but i loved writing this one.. i hope you guys like it too <3

[rodeoxqueen]

DEVIL MAY GRIND

(I)- Can You Touch This? 

Dante/ AMAB! Reader

Series Summary:  From a surprise rendezvous to a male strip club on your birthday to a private dance, you end up seeing eye-to-eye rather than eye-to-groin with a cowboy stripper named Dante Sparda.

Work Summary: A shy and short homebody celebrating your birthday with friends, you end up somewhere you’d never expect: a male strip club. And what you’d also never expect is a certain red-devil/cowboy stripper to lay his special treatment on you.

Tags/Warnings:18+, AMAB! Reader, Stripper!AU, Minors Do Not Try It, Wholesome Filth

Rodeo’s Two-Pieces: And after months, Rodeo presents the male version of this soon-to-be filth. *tilts cowboy hat over eyes and leans in seat*

You were never one for large crowds, alcohol, loud music, and nudity. So what a mess you were in, your friends dragging you into a strip club.

It wasn’t your fault, they promised you were all going for a quiet dinner at your favorite restaurant. No loud noises, no crowds, and especially, you didn’t even know why you had to specify, no naked guys! That’s what happened at first. You went and blew out your candles on your cake at a nice place, but then things got weird. Your friends had got you thoughtful gifts, except one of them who promised to give it to you after another “surprise.”

They practically herded you to their car, blindfolding and ear-muffing you while giggling. After driving in some unfamiliar directions, you were pulled into a strange building.

So when you couldn’t hear your thoughts due to the overbearing bass in the room you were in, you realized you should’ve known better. The blindfold and earmuffs were taken off and you opened your eyes to a neon-lit room with the most hard-cut abs right in your face.

“A strip club?! W-why would you think I’d want to go to a strip club?”

“Okay, first of all (Y/N). It’s a male strip club. Second, come on! I know you want to touch some diamond abs!” One of your friends exclaimed as they threw bills at one very tan and very oiled-up man named Diego. The box from before landed on your lap, and you unwrapped it to find a giant stack of dollar bills.

“Now stuff them bills down some hottie’s pants!”

The orange thong-wearing male with the most defined quads you had ever glanced at winked at your friend and opted to dance on someone else. Clutching your drink, you swallowed thickly as other males who went to the gym every other hour thrust their hips proactively at you.

Your friends had called ahead and bought the lot of you a table to the stage, much to your chagrin.

Luckily, your ability to disappear in a room, with your meek personality and small stature, came in handy in these situations. The tall and buff guys your friends screamed over seemed to prefer the company of the more extroverted and thirsty. While other tables farther from the stage had easy contact with the not-themed strippers, you were all confronted with the stage floor dancers.

“My god, how many themes do these guys dress in?” You squeaked as an entertainer dressed like James Bond (minus the clothes except for the bowtie and gun holster) ground on the stage floor.

“Not enough! Now make it rain, (Y/N).” Another friend demanded as she took another shot.

You made a noise as your hand was forcibly placed onto an eight-pack. You quickly threw a wad of bills at the man and ran off to the bar.

“I gotta go!” You panicked, speed-walking to the bar in your favorite pair of dressy sneakers. Stomach quivering, you put a few bills down and asked for a stronger drink. Maybe you could pass out on the table and your friends would feel bad and take you home.

You sighed as you watched your friends have the time of their lives, although they noted your absence.

“First time?” The bartender asked, sliding your fruity drink to you. You fiddled with the napkin. A woman posed in the corner with the logo “Devil May Cry” to the side of her, all lined in neon pink.

“Oh!... Yeah, it is.” You mumbled shyly. You blushed at his blue-eyed stare. Luckily, he wore a collared white shirt so you could look at him without bleeding out of your nose. He was very handsome, with rugged features and slight facial hair. His stark white hair shined even in the dim lighting.

“Ah, could tell. Watched you get dragged in here.” He chuckled.

“I-I was tricked, first of all!” You exclaimed, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“It’s alright. Your next rounds on me if you stay a lil longer.” He winked, wiping a glass. A few other people came and went, requesting all sorts of raunchy-titled drinks. Despite that, he leaned on the table where you sat, making idle conversation.

“I’m Dante.”

“Nice to meet you, Dante. I’m (Y/N).” You impulsively stuck your hand out to shake and stilled at his strong and warm grip.

He whistled.

“Nice name for a nice man. It’s your birthday right?” You nodded.

“What did you wish for?”

“Peace and quiet.” He laughed at that, gesturing to your friends who screamed and clapped at a dark-skinned stripper who ripped off his pants.

“With those friends?” He chuckled.

“They’re a lot more restrained. This is an exception.” You whined.

The conversation grew longer. You learned that Dante worked here with his twin brother Vergil. He loved pizza and strawberry ice cream, along with nice motorcycles. A total manly man, if you asked yourself.

You found a safe space talking to him since you didn’t have to look at nude guys with your back turned.

You were hoping to talk the night away until a similarly white-haired male with a serious glare rounded the corner.

Swiping back a few stray hairs, the esteemed brother Vergil knocked the smile off his twin’s face.

“You fool! Your shift has been over for some time now.” He snapped. Dante rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, this is old douchebag.” You giggled at his comment, quickly stopping when meeting eyes with the frigid twin.

“Have you been speaking ill of me? I will-” Dante threw a towel at his brother’s face before leaving the bartending station. By leaving, he jumped over the counter.

“Hey, (Y/N), nice talking to you. I’ll see you later.” The white-haired man left to the employee’s room.

“Alright-” You muttered. You’d sit, but Vergil’s cold glare prompted you to leave and rejoin your friends.

“Where were you? Chatting up the bartender?”

“Look at you. Being social in a strip club.” They teased.

After a few more dancers, you couldn’t help but miss the blue-eyed bartender with his quips and casual flirtiness.

Suddenly, the music and lights went off. The crowd stirred. Your friend grabbed your arm.

“Oh boy, they’re gonna need a mop after this.”

“Ew!” You cried out. Your friends sang that one horribly sexual song from the radio. Something about parking a truck in a garage and about wet-

A shirtless DJ grabbed the mic.

“And now, for our next entertainer, we have the Legendary Lady Killer. Hold onto your panties and your wedding rings, you’re all in for the ride of your life.”

The lights were turned back on from back to front. On stage, stood a muscular man with a cowboy hat and shawl. His legs were perfectly framed by black leather chaps and boots. You turned as red as his shawl as you could see his formidable bulge from yards across.

His spurs clinked on the floor as people began to cheer at his physique. Your jaw dropped in shock.

White hair.

“Ladies and gents, I got some questions for y’all.” He drawled, lowering his hat.

“Yes! I’m single!” Someone yelled from the back. He chuckled as others screamed with agreement.

“That’s nice ma’am. But really, I got three questions.” He made his way down the stage, his shadow covering your table.

He palmed his chest and abs, showing white chest hairs and slicked-down muscles.

“Can you touch this?” Everyone screamed for yes. He tutted.

“No, no, no.” He waggled his finger. He spun and exposed his lush tush. He was packing it front and back and you blushed while putting your face in your hands.

His hands groped his butt. Even with his giant hands, he still had more ass to spare.

“Can you touch this?” The screams grew louder. He waggled his finger again, wiggling his butt.

“No, no, no.” The crowd awed. He turned back around, a cocky grin on his face.

“Now,” He pointed to the crowd.

His palms groped the leather that concealed his huge package.

“Can you touch this?” Your friend threw a wad of cash at him, hitting him in the nipple. He stood unflinching.

“No, no, no.” He drew out each word.

“These are my laws.” Putting his hands on his hips, he rocked left to right, clicking his spurs.

“But I see a hell of a lot of lawbreakers here tonight.”

He shifted to walk around the chair placed behind him. He sat on it backward, legs spread to place his groin in the spotlight.

“And I don’t see a cop in sight.” He pointed at the DJ.

“Hit it!” Music blaring, he did his number. And boy, was the DJ right to warn you. Dante practically made sweet love to the chair, flipping his head back.

Hips circling and then pistoning the air, sweat trailed down his pecs.

You ended up throwing a few bills, hoping to avoid eye contact. It failed as he slid to his knees to the edge of the stage and crawled off the ledge onto your table. Like a preying tiger, he made his way over to you.

Thank god you had health insurance, your blood pressure was going off the charts.

Your friends lost their heads, throwing bills and screaming like banshees. But he wasn’t interested in them. His eyes preyed after your own, baby blues on an absolute beast.

“Wanna save a horse and ride a cowboy, handsome?” He purred as he traced your jaw. Your skin jumped as you internally imploded. This was was too sensual and people were watching, for goodness sake!

“(Y/N), if you don’t agree I will cancel your Barnes and Noble membership.” Your friend threatened.

“Come on, spare this outlaw some sugar?” You didn’t have a moment to think. Dante threw his hat on your head and carried you onto the table and to the stage.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” You shrieked.

He ran hot. So hot. Your skin burned at contact with him, pressed up against his chest as he stood you in front of the chair he practically humped.

“Take a seat, sir.” You blushed at his sensual persona, not sure where the kind bartender and the suave cowboy started and ended.

Obediently, you turned the chair around and sat with your ankles crossed. Dante tutted in disapproval.

His hands lingered by your legs.

“May I?” He asked. You shook your head slowly, feeling his callused hands on your thighs. He firmly spread your legs and stood over you on the chair.

As if that wasn’t enough, his arm muscles bulged and twitched as he ripped off his leather chaps. He ripped the chaps. There were no zippers or velcro straps. That was all him!

Your face a hair’s width from his abs, he gently took your hands and traced his pecs with them. He growled and winked at you.

Despite the one-in-a-million situation you were in, you shrank at the many peering eyes of the other women and bar patrons. Your anxiety was seen by Dante, who tilted your head up.

“Hey, it’s alright. Just focus on me. If you’re nervous, just give me a purple nurple or something, alright?” You laughed at his idea of a safe word and nodded.

“Okay, Dante.”

And like that, it was like you pulled a trigger. Dante grinded on your form and explored his peak-conditioned skin with your own hands.

You gasped as he led your hands down his front to his leather shorts. You couldn’t stop looking with widened eyes at his crotch. You had read erotica before, describing the male member in the throes of passion, yet this was the first time you had been this close to anything like those erotic novels.

It was obscene! Why did it seem to get larger? How was he allowed to carry that thing around without a license?!

“Hey, eyes up here.” He teased as you snapped your head up.

“O-oh! Sorry.” You whispered. Your blood had rushed to your head and you had grown deaf to your friends’ yells of validation.

“Grab him by the buns!” One of your friends yelled. Dante turned around to make eye contact with her.

With a grin, he slid your hands to the back. What he didn’t expect was you to squeeze.

“Whoa now, kitty.” He purred. You gave a watery smile.

Suddenly, a water bottle was thrown at his head. With lightning reflexes, he caught it after it bounced off of him.

“Hey! Stage times’ over, you fucking show pony.” A short-haired woman with mismatching eyes called out. Dante scoffed.

“Just givin’ a nice gentleman some lovin’.” He argued.

“No, get off the stage, Dante.”

“Five more minutes?”

“NOW.” He sighed. Getting off of your lap, he kissed your hand that was resting on his thigh. Lord, if you died right now, that’d be fine.

“Glad to have this dance.” He flirted.

“Y-you too.” Taking your hand, he took you for another surprise and swept you off your feet. You squeaked as he handed you to another dancer on the ground. The club-goers cheered as dancers arrived, dressed like businessmen with briefcases.

You were promptly seated, head dizzy from everything that just happened. You watched as he took his leave as if he didn’t just cause you to get feverish from how hot he was. Your friend hugged you.

“Nice work! You were so lucky!” Another friend plucked the hat off your head.

“Ah! He left his hat!” You exclaimed as you took it from her hands.

“A souvenir.”

For the rest of the night, you held onto the hat and traced the red stitching. You never saw Dante for the rest of the night, his brother in charge of the bar service.

Finally, before the last round of dancers, you were tapped on the shoulder. You found yourself staring into much harsher blue eyes.

One of your friends threw money at him, which he growled at.

“I am not an entertainer. Well, not right now.” He explained. He handed you a drink with a napkin on the bottom.

“My buffoon of a brother said to keep the hat. Although, I’m not sure why you would.”

“I-”

“The drink is on the house. Good evening with you all.”

He walked off, and you took your drink. You realized it was the same one you ordered when you got to the bar.

“Hey dude, take a look.” A well-manicured nail pointed to the napkin. You saw in red pen an arrow pointed to the folded corner.

You shakily opened it to reveal a series of numbers and words, along with a card that flitted onto the table.

Tonight was fun, wanna do it again? The card’s for a private dance, just call and ask for Dante Sparda. No crowds, only you and me. No Lady barking up my tree for appreciating beauty either - DS

A little heart with an arrow through its center was scrawled in a corner. You picked up the laminated card and saw it was for a free private dance. Your heart beat out of your chest.

Your friends laughed as you immediately stuck it in your pocket, along with the note. The club closed and you were all ushered out. The night was pitch black when you emerged from the debauchery that was the Devil May Cry strip club.

As your other wasted companions were stuffed into the car, you sat shotgun to the sober and designated driver.

You were silent the car ride home, laying your head against the window. You thought about that white-haired flirt’s remarks and how gentle he was to you.

Waving and embracing your wonderful friends, you left for your apartment with all your gifts. However, the little slips of paper in your pocket weighed the heaviest on your mind.

With your keys in your hand, you climbed up the stairs home.

After closing the door, you slid down the wall and let out a pleased sigh.

“Best birthday ever!” You said to no one in particular. 

[damn-stark]

The Dark Lord

Chapter 11 of Different Light

A/N- Hope you guys like this chapter :) let me know what you thought?

Warning- Mention of violence and torture, angst, SLOWBURN.

Pairing- Harry Potter x Malfoy!reader, Fred Weasley x Malfoy!reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“It’s okay if you don’t get him on the first time,” George tries to assure you as he whispers in one ear and Fred whispers in the other.

“You’ll probably nail it on the second, again this is just practice.”

You side-eye them both and step away to spin around and face them with a fake appreciative smile on your lips. “I love your words of encouragement, I promise to try my best.”

“We’ll still be your friends after, okay?”

You touch your chest and pretend to be touched by George’s words whilst you walk back to stand on the mat, seeing said boy only grin at you before you turn to face Harry a couple feet across from you on the same mat.

Once you’re in a ready stance, you hold your wand with one hand and ignore the stares from the students watching to the side to focus on Harry across from you. Said boy also gets on a ready stance and his blue eyes meet yours before he loudly says, “wands on the ready.”

You lift your wand and watch Harry lift his own, resulting in the both of you to be in a standoff as you both waited to see if either one or the other would wave their wand to do the stun first. It took a few seconds of just waiting, of just keeping each other’s eyes on one another, but that’s when you took your opportunity to strike; you shot him a small and sweet smile and you caught as his fingers faltered on his wand, causing you to swiftly wave your wand and shout, “stupify.” Sending a small blue energy ball that hits him in the chest and sends him flying back.

You grin with excitement and pride after what you did and hear Harry groan, whilst there's murmurs from some students and giggles from others. Harry is quick to recover nonetheless and doesn’t hesitate to give you a compliment.

“Nice job, y/n. That was perfect.”

You offer him a smile before turning to the twins and pridefully offering them a small bow before you walk off to join Hermione and Clementine on the sidelines as others walk on the mat.

“ALL STUDENTS WILL SUBMIT TO QUESTIONING ABOUT suspected ILLICIT Activities.”

Isn’t that bloody amazing, the pink lady is just asking to be badly pranked.

Not like she’ll dare and pull you into her office for any sort of questioning—not because of what your house was, but because of who your father was, she knew if that one word would be sent to him from you, there would be hell to pay. The pink lady knew how to push your buttons, but this was one she couldn’t dare and press.

“A little higher,” you hear Harry instruct Cho, as he stood closely behind her and pressed his hand on hers to tilt it the right way. At the gentle action, and the way she turned to look at him, your grip around your wand tightened and anger began to boil in the pit of your stomach—you knew that you shouldn’t be angry, but you couldn’t help it, especially when he met her gaze and she got distracted and let the boy fall, it made you burn within and use a little too magic, resulting in the girl you were levitating to fly to the ceiling.

“Ahh.”

Your eyes fly to her and the anger painted on your face drops and twists into one filled with remorse. “Sorry!”

You gently bring the girl down and repeat your comment once more before you catch Clementine staring at you and giving you a disapproving head shake. Albeit it wasn’t for what had just happened, but about what she saw had just angered you—nonetheless you responded by not responding, just looking away and going the rest of the session trying not to look at Harry, making sure that once the end came you made a swift exit with the twins, following them to participate in one of their pranks against Mr. Filch.

“Now to wait,” Fred whispers from above you as he pokes his head out of the halls corner and waits like George and you do for Mr. Filch to come to his little set up in front of where the secret room door usually opens. It doesn’t take long for him to come to his post and once he does he doesn’t hesitate to open the heart shaped chocolate filled box. Making the twins and you grin proudly before sneaking off and sharing a fist bump.

“THOSE WISHING TO JOIN THE INQUISITORIAL SQUAD for EXTRA CREDIT May sign up in high inquisitors OFFICE.”

“We should join it,” Clementine suggests making you twist your head to shoot her a weird look. “I mean think about it, she can’t say anything about it, if she does just simply throw the daddy card and she’ll have nothing to do but let you in the bloody group.”

“Except the reason she’s forming this group is because of our,” you lean closer to her to continue in a whisper, “illicit activities.”

Clementine leans closer to you and finally takes her eyes off the post on the wall, smirking widely before copying your whisper. “That’s exactly why we’re joining, to have a foot on each side, trick them and guide them the wrong way.”

A smirk finally tugs on your lips and before long you’re both in her office along with other Slytherin (including your brother) joining the inquisitorial squad and getting funny medals—and once the pink lady reaches you, she hesitates to give you the medal, shooting you a discreet and well covered up glare that you simply respond with a melious smile.

You knew she didn’t want to give it to you, she didn’t want to let you join, you knew she suspected you of being in the secret group, but you didn’t let her intimidate you. You raised an eyebrow and kept your gaze on her, smiling wider as she ended up placing the medal on you and moving along. Once the object is on your cardigan you scrunch your nose at how irrelevant this really was, you didn’t express it but you knew Clementine knew it too.

Draco on the other hand thought this was the best thing ever, he hit your shoulder to gain your attention and showed off the same medal you had. The excitement on his face was hard to put down so you mirrored his grin and joined him in his excitement.

For now.

“Okay, now, Malfoy, this dummy is enhanced,” Clementine explains to you from the wooden dummy’s side as she has her hands on each side of it.

Herimone steps on the other side of the dummy and adds her own explanation, “Clementine and I made it so that as you’re ready in the middle, the dummy will move around as if it were a real enemy, okay? Your job is to not get hit and quickly disarm it before it hits you.”

“O...okay,” you sigh out as you step to the middle of the mat and hold your wand with one hand. “Sounds easy.”

“Should be.” Hermione assures you with a matching smile. Clementine and her step back and start up the dummy, leaving you to quickly react by swerving away from the stun it shot.

“Damn,” you hiss, spinning to the other side to face it after it spun around. Quickly you wave your wand and shout out, “expelliarmus!” But the dummy avoids your move and spins again, this time standing behind you and not waiting for you to turn to shoot a disarming spell; something you barely manage to avoid by ducking and turning on your heels to face its different position.

“I’m done with you,” you grumble while you grip onto your wand and swiftly have to turn to face it, shooting a spell, but missing it, causing it to rush behind you once more in attempts to catch you off guard. Albeit this time you were quick to think on your feet. You jumped to your side and threw your unoccupied hand out and in an annoyed and heated anger you shouted out, “stupify!” And in a blink of an eye the fast stunning ball shot out of your hand and sent the dummy flying back to the mirror, shattering it completely and earning the immediate attention from the two girls that had been watching.

“What?” Hermione gasped in disbelief, “how did you do that so perfectly? I mean I know that wandless magic could be performed, but it’s difficult for us here since we’re all accustomed to wands.”

You scratch the back of your neck and simply shrug. “I practice. I’ve been practicing for years.”

“That was impressive, y/n.” You hear Harry compliment you as he comes to stand by Clemtentine. “I can’t even do that.”

A heat instantly grows on your face and you smile shyly. “Thank you Harry.”

Said boy and you share a lingering gaze, but before long you have to look away as Clementine's comment caught your attention. Harry’s on the other hand remained stuck on you as he looked at you in disbelief and awe, a smile remained on his face and he had thought no one caught the admiration behind it; the hidden, unspoken feelings behind the gesture, but he was wrong. Herimone had been watching and caught on to the look and the smile.

——

“So that's it for this lesson.” Harry shared with the gathered group. “Now we won’t be meeting again until after the holidays, so just keep practicing on your own as best as you can. And well done everyone. Great, great work.”

The group alongside you clap after Harry’s little speech, not hesitating for too long for them all to disperse and walk out of the room and giving Harry a final goodbye before the holidays. While you on the other hand lagged behind, waving off Clementine and meeting Harry at the end of the room.

“You’re good at this you know,” you smile, “teaching. Plus all the students really like you as their mentor.”

Harry shrugs and a faint blush grows on his cheeks. “It’s...it’s not only me.”

You scoff, “it’s all you. You’re a great teacher. I mean I like to think I’m good, but after getting taught by you I come to realize that I can be better. So thank you for also teaching me.”

Harry slowly smiles and you see him swallow thickly, letting his eyes slowly drift down to your lips for a split second before he was forced to pull them away as Fred and George came up behind you—“we were thinking Harry, we could always slip Umbridge some puking pastilles into her tea.”

“Or fever foot, they give you these massive puss—filled balls—”

“Sounds great guys, would you excuse me.”

Without anything left to say, Harry walks off past you and you’re forced to follow the twins out of the room. Before you can leave completely you look back to what has suddenly been so urgent to Harry Potter, and see that it was only one thing, one girl more like; Cho Chang. At the sight of them two close again, you clench your jaw and scoff before fuming out of the room with the twins at your side.

They don’t notice your anger and how bothered you were at the knowledge of Harry and Cho alone together, (not like it should really be a real issue), but you just couldn’t help it, it boiled at the pit of your stomach and it only mixed with your anger on why you got mad. It was...stupid.

“Y/N?”

“Huh?”

Fred chuckles, “I said we could do it before we leave for the holidays.”

You blink and look up at him, narrowing your gaze and parting your lips in confusion. “Do what?”

“Prank...Umbridge...where are you?”

You giggle nervously and shake your head to dismiss the worry in his tone. “I’m sorry, it’s—”

“It’s that letter isn’t it? The one from your stepmum?”

The faint smile slowly begins to disappear and a frown doesn’t fail to replace in its place. “No. It’s not.” You turn your eyes away from him and sigh, lifting your lips into a feigned smile and walking ahead of them to turn to head to your common room with only a quick goodbye. “Well this is the last I’ll be seeing of you two until after the holidays, I’ll be busy so please don’t send letters.” You quicken your pace and talk quickly over your shoulder. “Okay?”

Fred blinks in disbelief and tries to catch up, but you only quicken your pace and turn to your given hall. “Wait, y/n, is that it? Aren’t we talking tomorrow?”

You finally come to a halt and fully turn around to face him, walking to him at the end of the hall and offering him a small smile before you kissed his cheek. “On the train?”

He nods and a smile slowly returns on his face. “Of course. I guess we’ll have to postpone our prank until after then?”

You grin and wink. “Until after.”

——

Just as Fred and you had agreed to meet on the train before you got to the station and you would be without contact for a few weeks, he never showed, just like George nor the rest of his family didn’t; in fact Harry, nor Hermione were on the train either, it was strange. Yet you didn’t have time to question it, or people to ask for information. You were left clueless. For a while. Until you got home and found out the reason why the Weasley family, Harry and Hermione weren’t on the train home.

Apparently Mr. Weasley had suffered an attack; the details weren’t all there since Narcissa made sure it wasn’t spoken on your first day back home, or at all in fact. Not like she was really protecting you from anything considering the burden you knew was going to be put on your shoulders.

“Are you ready?”

You stand up from your chair and turn to face Narcissa entering the room. “Yes, I think I am.” You take a look at her and realize something. “Are you not going?”

Narcissa drops her gaze and shakes her head. “No, just your father and you.” Narcissa lifts her eyes and walks to stand closer before you. “Draco is not going either. I managed to convince your father not to take him, to not get him involved...I’m sorry I couldn’t do the same for you, my love.”

Carefully you begin to rub your wrists and whisper. “Good, I don’t want Draco involved.” Slowly you return your gaze back to her and smile softly, “thank you for trying.”

Narcissa cups your cheeks and smiles warmly before pressing a kiss on your forehead and pulling away to fix the collar of your jacket. “I’ll see you on Christmas, okay? I’ve got presents to give your brother and you.”

A knock sounds on your open door and pulls your attention towards it to see your father and an upset Draco behind him. “It’s time to go.”

You nod and just before you could walk towards your father, Narcissa stops you and gives you a tight hug that she took a moment to part away from; it felt like she just didn’t want to let you go, when she did it was only because your father called again. Even then she followed the both of you until you had disapparated away.

“When we get in there, don’t leave my side, talk only if he talks to you and don’t hold back.” Your father stops in the gravel and turns to face you, his blue eyes burning into your own eyes. “Do you understand me?”

You look to the door of the dark eery hotel and nod slowly, drifting your gaze to your fathers once you feel his hand on your shoulder. “I understand,” you swallow thickly and just as you hook your arm around your fathers and continue towards the hotel, you ask one last thing in a shaky voice. “Will I become a death eater?”

Your father sighs and even if he tried to hide it there was a falter in his confidence, he showed a fear that was so rare for you to see in him. His answer was so different and made fear finally strike within you. “I don’t know.”

You clench your free hand tightly and remain silent for the rest of the way up to the hotel, feeling your nerves heighten as you reach the final door that would lead to the inevitable.

So far nothing was out of order, the hotel was empty and dark but nothing beside that was off. Not until the door opened and it revealed a small, skittish man with a goldenhand that welcomed your father and you with a creepy smile that made your nose scrunch. Yet that wasn’t the weird part of walking into the dark, dirty room, what surprised you most was seeing professor Snape inside the room, standing by the fireplace.

Once he recognized you, he straightened out his shoulders and looked at you with a widened gaze that he was quick to disguise by returning to his usual, deep nonchalant expression; that or the one where he seemed to be disappointed at the world.

“Snape, I’m surprised you’re here, I was told you wouldn’t be attending.” Your father tells Snape.

“I was told this meeting was important,” his dark eyes glance at you for a few seconds before he continues. “I can see why now.”

Professor Snape was never someone you hated like the other students did, his classes were fun until Umbridge changed everything, and he was never a professor you disliked. Yes the previous year you might have messed around in his class, but he never treated you poorly like he did the other students, he almost appeared to tolerate you more than he did others. So you didn’t dislike his presence here; it was just very surprising even if it shouldn’t be.

Regardless your father and Professor snape talked, and since you had nothing else to do but wait as the other death eaters slowly filtered in, you listened, only truly paying attention to one conversation.

“Snape, I wanted to ask you a favor. I predict the Dark Lords intentions with my daughter and with that I know that school won’t be a safe place for her to roam with what she’ll learn here,” your father explained in a more hushed tone, making sure no rats heard what they weren’t supposed to. “I want you to give my daughter private occlumency lessons. I only trust you.”

Snape glances at you and his eyes stay on you for a few seconds before they dig into your father, he sighs deeply and answers bluntly. “I’ll do it, but only if she wants me to teach her.”

Once again, the attention drifts to you and you don’t hesitate to answer with an eager nod. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Fine, every Friday after NEWTS.”

A small appreciative smile grows on your lips and even if you meant it for the professor, he was quick to ignore you. Not like he had much of a choice because not minutes after, everyone went eerily silent and you were pulled off your seat to watch as the door opened, letting in a beautiful snake with a long smooth body; it was dark and captivating, yet intimidating.

Nothing like it’s master, who walked in shortly after. No it—he was frightening and ugly; he had pale white skin, and his nose was like a snakes. His eyes were the only thing normal about him, because the rest was disfigured. His appearance made you grip onto your father tighter, like if your life depended on it.

You didn’t let him frighten you, or dismilsh your confidence, or bravery, you sat tall and confident. Only faltering slightly at the sound of his voice. “Welcome back my friends, and welcome to the new faces around the table. Today we have united to discuss the plans for some of our captured family, and the topic of our new potential member.” His eyes landed on you and then slid to your father sat beside you.

“My Lord,” your father added in a proud voice while he stood up. “May I present you to my oldest child, my daughter, Y/N Malfoy.”

After the introduction you stood up and tugged your lips into a feigned tight lipped smile, you bowed your head and spoke up in a loud voice that hid how you really felt. “It’s an honor.”

“Ah, I do remember her, she was only a baby then; the bastard child.”

The feigned smile on your lips falters while you and your father sit back down. You of course don’t add anything and felt a slight flicker of anger at the cruel name he called you.

“It’s good to see that you, my child, will follow in your fathers footsteps.” The Dark Lord continues with a wicked smile growing on his pale thin face. “Of course if it weren’t for your fathers...mistakes, you wouldn’t be here.”

“I assure you, being here,” you interject after you dug your nails into your chair, “following my fathers footsteps is an honor. I wouldn’t want nothing more.”

“So well spoken,” Lord Voldemort answers in a more calm voice. “I see why you praise her so much, Lucius. Now prove to us that she is as skilled as you claim.” Voldemort sits back in his chair and begins to stroke the snake's head, following your fathers movements with his cold eyes.

“Wormtail, bring it here.”

Said tiny man scurrys off instantly after your fathers command and doesn’t take long to return with a small cage in his hand, walking to your side and placing it in front of you before returning to where he was sitting—now you don't need anyone to tell you what to do next, they were testing you, trying to embarrass your family if you got this wrong; that was clear to see, it was painted all over the faces of Voldemort and his followers.

“Now child you do know the three unforgivable curses right?” Lord Voldemort asked in a chilling voice that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Nonetheless you stand up and nod, drifting your gaze away from him to look down at the cage that you had yet to see what it contained. “I want you to perform them on that creature inside the cage.”

“But my Lord,” your father dared to protest, “she’s simply a child, she hasn’t completed school yet, she hasn’t mastered—”

“Anyone could do it, if you put your mind to it, you claim she’s strong, so this will be nothing. Don’t worry no one outside this room will know she did it”

“I can do it,” you interject confidently, sparing your father one last look before turning your attention to the cage and opening it to see a rat run out. You put your wand on the table and slowly extend your hand out, taking in a deep breath and slowly releasing it before having to do as you were told. “Imperio.”

Your hand began to tremble a bit at the energy and strength you were using to cast the spell and have the rat do your bidding, but you were managing it; you made the rat run to the pit fireplace where before it could burn, you brought it back to the center of the table.

Now you had to perform the cruciatus curse, but that unlike the other was more difficult, you kept the rat in the middle, but before you could utter the next spell, you had to clear your mind, convince yourself that you wanted to hurt this innocent animal, that you hated it. It was a difficult task because you didn’t want to do it, but you remembered what was on the line; your family’s life, they were the only thing that mattered, and even if they hadn’t mentioned it, you knew that if you didn’t do well they would have to pay for your failure. So there was no point in hesitating.

You sigh and once again speak out a spell, “crucio.”

In an instant the rat begin to squirm and screech loudly; as you made up these fake emotions in your head, the rat only screeched out in pain louder and you only began to turn your head away so you wouldn’t see how it twisted its body, how it looked under the pain you casted. You wanted to stop, but you knew doing so early on would bring consequence, so you only increased the pain and made Lord Voldemort’s interest peak until he finally stopped you.

“Good, good, that’s enough of that, now,” he scoffs out of amusement and stands up from his chair, “do the last spell.”

You nod stiffly and return your gaze back to the animal in front of you, this time you hesitate, glancing at your father who was already looking at you. He saw the hesitance in your eyes and just offered you a simple nod that he used to gesture to you to continue. It wasn’t really comforting, but it worked.

So with one hand you grip onto the table and the other you flex before you, you look at the rat and release a deep breath, you ignore the curious stares from the silent watchers and you finally muster enough courage to cast the final spell. “Avada Kedavra.”

A bright, blinding green bolt of light shoots out of your hand and hits the rat on the table, swiftly stopping its struggle and ending its life.

After the spell, after the light disappeared and brought back the dim light that was lit from above, you stumbled back after the effect of how much power it was and your father was quick to grab your shoulders to keep you in balance, not having time to check on you as Lord Voldemort interrupted him with a slow clap.

“I’m impressed, what should have been so hard to do without the use of a wand, was so easy to accomplish from someone so young.” He sat back down and you finally looked back at his pale and thin face, but not after noticing the shock stricken expressions on the death eaters faces. “It seems your father didn’t waste his time in teaching you. You’ll make a perfect death eater, you’ll fit nicely right next to your brother.”

Your eyes widen and you clench your fists tightly. Now you should have stayed quiet, but you couldn’t. “No.”

“Hmm?” Lord Voldemort stood up and slowly made his way behind you, pressing his hands tightly on your shoulders and whispered by your ear. “What did you say?”

“No,” you breathed out shakily, “I’ll become a death eater, but not my brother.”

“Y/N.” Your father hissed.Not like you listened.

“I don’t want Draco to live through this, I want him to have a normal life until he can, he’s just a kid.”

Voldemort chuckles and pulls away, patting your fathers back before walking back and creating a tension in the room. “You’ve raised them right, Lucius. Her loyalty is admirable. She’ll do anything for her family, just like we all would, she’s fit to be a death eater. Not like she had much of a choice right?”

“Right.” Your father repeats with a small forced smile.

“She’ll become a death eater when she comes of age which is….”

“In the summer.”

“Until then.”

You sit back down and finally breathe out a heavy and shaky breath, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders—even if a heavy burden had just fallen upon you. There was no way to avoid what you would become, you couldn’t have a say in it even if you tried. As much as you tried to be the good person, prove that you weren’t like your family, now you would be just like them. The one thing you could try and do now is try to keep Draco from the same fate.

Wherever becoming a death eater would take you anyway….now your future was unclear.

One thing was for certain though, your standing with your secret defensive group is stronger. At least you had control of that, at least that brought a small glimmer of hope that you would avoid your dark fate, that Draco would avoid it.

Then again how could you continue in Dumbledore's army? Now that you would be Harry Potter's literal enemy, as much you knew you liked him, you were one of the people he hated.

If it came down to it, if—when you do become a death eater and it came down to it, you would have to fight Harry. Even if you didn’t want to, you would. Would he forgive you? Understand you?

What about Fred?

“This is hard,” you groan loudly as you slide off the couch.

“What is?” Draco quieres curiously.

“Stuff.” You simply throw at him.

“What stuff? If you would tell me what happened in that meeting I’d understand.” Draco kept nagging.

Again you groan whilst you sit up straight, “I told you—”

“Are you going to be a death eater, like father?”

“Uh,” you blink and rub the inner corner of your eyes, “yes.”

“What? How come I’m not!”

“Because Draco you can’t. You’re just...a kid.” You mutter.

“A kid?! No I’m not! I’m for more mature than any other student in my year, I’m smart and skilled, I—”

“Because Draco I won’t let you!” You cut him off before you jumped to your given height and stormed to your room, where you just flopped on your bed and blankly stared at the ceiling and whispered, “what am I going to do?”

You were of course without answers. You badly wanted someone to talk to, but no one would truly understand...maybe Harry would, but you couldn’t tell him everything...it wouldn’t be safe. Just like it wouldn’t be safe for anyone else to know what troubled you.

Once again you were starting to drift into a lonely secluded corner. What were you going to do?

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Tagged- @peter-laufeyson , @swiftlymoniquesblog , @spideyyypeter , @gsvshsjsbs, @accio-prozac , @cherriesanwine , @kokomaesadie , @april-14-blog , @prettypinkpeachh , @pest-ill-ence , @ilovespideyyy , @m3ssytrash @hogwarts-babe-blog @yodaboo

[bestillmyslashyheart]

“So wait,” Maria laughed, “you broke up with your fiance by packing up your car and driving away?”

Liz nodded, half cringing as she did so. “I couldn’t face him!” She shook her head and took the shot Maria offered. “There was nothing wrong with him or with us, it just wasn’t right? And I didn’t know how to explain that to him?”

“So you just left,” Alex concluded.

Liz nodded. “Relationships suck,” she pronounced before tossing back the shot. Maria laughed and handed out another round. Technically she was working but she’d overstaffed the schedule that night so she wasn’t needed. 

“That they do,” Alex murmured in agreement before downing his own. Maria and Liz both turned to stare at him in unison, twin looks of intrigue and glee on their faces.

“Oh?” Maria teased.

“Do tell,” Liz added.

Alex laughed and shook his head. “I’m not drunk enough yet.”

“I can fix that,” Maria told him earnestly. She quickly filled his glass and pushed it back over to him. “Talk to us, Manes,” she ordered.

“You’ve been a man of mystery ever since you got back,” Liz chided gently. 

Alex winced. It was true that he hadn’t exactly shared much since returning to Roswell and reuniting with Liz and Maria but he hadn’t had a lot of practice in recent years talking about himself. Everyone who needed to know something usually found out on their own. It worked for him.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Maria muttered suddenly. Alex looked up at her in surprise, Maria wasn’t one to cuss often, only to find her staring over his shoulder. He started to turn but didn’t make it very far before a tall blonde form was pressing up against him.

“Where is he?” Isobel Evans-Bracken demanded sharply. 

“Hey!” Liz cried. She reached out to shove Isobel away from Alex but Isobel brushed her off without looking away.

“Back off, Evans,” Maria ordered. But Alex waved her off.

“Hello to you, too,” he greeted idly. Ignoring her eye roll, he tossed back his newly filled glass. 

“Where is he?” She asked again.

Alex turned his head slightly to look at her. “Do they not have courtesy where your from?” Isobel stifled her flinch but Alex caught it. “Most people say hello first.”

Isobel clenched her jaw. “Hello, Captain.” Alex thought the stress on his rank was entirely unnecessary. “You’ve been home for about a month now so again I ask, where is he?”

“You have a phone, yes?” Alex asked instead of answering.

Isobel scoffed. “As if it does me any good. Now stop avoiding the question.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“I really don’t.” He really didn’t. 

Isobel stared at him like she was trying to get inside his head but Alex ignored her again. “Fine,” she said finally, holding out her hand. “Give me your phone.”

Alex saw Maria and Liz tense at the order, both of them already on edge from Isobel’s sudden appearance and her behavior thus far but he ignored them and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He even unlocked it before handing it over.

Isobel snatched it from him and stomped over to a corner, the phone already pressed against her ear. Alex watched curiously, honestly unsure if she would get a response. It’s not like Alex always did. 

He didn’t have to wait long. “So your phone does work!” Isobel said loudly before continuing in a quieter tone. If Alex strained, he could maybe make out what she was saying but he wasn’t sure he cared enough right now to try.

“Max?!” Liz sat up straight next to him. It was the only warning Alex got before the other Evans twin pressed up next to him.

“Hi, Liz,” Max greeted her warmly before turning to Alex. “Where is he?”

That gave Alex pause. He’d expected Isobel to badger him for information, had been expecting it ever since he crossed the city limit a month ago truthfully, but Max had always kept his distance from Alex. He glanced up at him. “I don’t know.” He gestured over to where Isobel still stood. “She took my phone and seems to have gotten through so go ask her.”

Max went to his sister’s side without another word.

“Okaaaay,” Maria dragged out. “What the fuck?”

---

Alex was more than a little tipsy when he finally got home. He was drunk enough that he probably shouldn’t have been driving but he really hadn’t wanted to spend the night on Maria’s couch so he let her sober him up a little bit before he left. Max and Isobel hadn’t stayed long after her phone call ended and neither one of them had bothered to tell him what the emergency was but Alex did get his phone back so he pushed the encounter out of his mind. Getting Liz and Maria to drop the inquiry had been a bit harder but eventually they realized he wasn’t going to answer their questions and dropped it. For now, at least.

When Alex pulled up to his house, the headlights reflected briefly off the shiny metal of an Airstream. It was parked behind the house, almost hidden from the road. The beat up old Chevy was in the extra parking spot next to Alex’s.

Alex turned off his car and carefully got out. He ignored the truck and the Airstream and the implications of them being there when Alex hadn’t seen either for close to six months.

It was late, he was tired, he was drunk, and he just wanted to go to sleep.

So of course, he opens the door to the sound of a saw.

“Michael!” He yelled helplessly, the noise making his head hurt already. Alex dropped his keys on the table next to the door, made sure the lock was turned, and ventured closer to the noise.

It was coming from his bedroom. No, he realized as he got closer, it was coming from his bathroom. Alex peeked in the doorway and groaned loudly, the sound covered up by the machinery. This morning he’d had a shower tub, now he had a hole in his bathroom. Michael was crouched on the ground, cutting pieces of something Alex couldn’t identify. He had his protective gear on and Alex knew he was oblivious to everything but what was right in front of his eyes.

With a loud sigh, Alex flicked the light switch. Almost instantly, the saw cut off and Michael turned to face the doorway. His hair was a mess, his clothes dirty from his work, and he looked exhausted.

He was still the best thing Alex had seen in months.

“Hey,” he greeted quietly, turning away almost immediately. He started cleaning up his work.

“I need a shower,” Alex complained. His leg was killing him and he felt gross after spending all night at the Pony. Coming home to yet another one of Michael’s projects was not what he’d had in mind for the night. Especially since he hadn’t heard from him in weeks.

“You’ve got another bathroom,” Michael replied. 

Alex thudded his head against the door frame and instantly regretted it. “It doesn’t have handrails.”

“I put the ones from here in there,” Michael told him. 

“Why?” Michael didn’t offer a response other than to cut a glance at Alex’s leg. Alex rolled his eyes. Sure, Michael had promised after his injury to make sure his house was accessible but that was three houses ago. He let it go. “How long are you staying?” He asked instead.

Michael’s shoulders slumped just a little. “Don’t know yet.” He never knew. “You?”

“Don’t know yet,” Alex replied. Michael nodded like he’d been expecting it, though Alex had always had an answer before.

If anyone asked, Michael would deny he’d done it until his dying breath, but a week after Alex left for basic training, Michael packed up his stuff and followed him. He played it off like he wanted a road trip, like he’d ended up in the same town as Alex by pure happenstance, but they both knew he’d followed him. It set a pattern after that: Michael never stayed forever, taking off every now and then with his Airstream and going who knows where, but he always came back to Alex. Even when Alex received new postings, Michael would show up within a month. 

It was unconventional. But it worked for them. Sort of. Mostly.

They weren’t monogamous but they were committed. Mostly. Alex might define it as an open relationship if they’d ever actually had a conversation on the subject. 

When Max and Isobel needed to get a hold of Michael and couldn’t, they called Alex. Or besieged him at the bar. Alex sometimes knew where Michael was. But not always. 

Michael went to school except when he didn’t. He picked up odd jobs and trade skills when he needed to. He never tried for more and it drove Alex crazy. He had so much potential and Alex couldn’t help but think he was squandering it chasing after Alex like he did.

Alex was in the Air Force. That hadn’t changed. Not yet. Neither had Michael’s aversion to it. Michael correlated the Air Force with Alex’s father and most of the time he could look past it for Alex’s sake but sometimes he couldn’t. Those times were times when he would pack and up and leave and Alex wouldn’t see him for months at a time.

Alex’s injury and his refusal to accept an honorable discharge had sent Michael running as soon as he’d made sure Alex was okay. 

It was the first time Alex hadn’t been sure Michael would come back.

“I’ll have a new shower in by tomorrow,” Michael told him, yanking Alex from his thoughts. “It’s got a bench and some other stuff to make it accessible.” Alex held in his sigh of relief. He’d been making his shower tub work for the last month but it was exhausting. 

“Thank you,” he told Michael sincerely.

Michael nodded in response and stood up, his work tidied enough not to trip Alex up in case he needed to get by for any reason. “Come on,” he shooed. “Shower.” It was a wordless offer to help and Alex appreciated it.

Alex didn’t move. He waited right where he was until Michael was right in front of him. “Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi,” Michael huffed in fond amusement. “You gave my sister your phone.”

“You didn’t have to answer.”

He shrugged. “I thought it was you.”

Alex twisted his fingers in the front of Michael’s shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. “I missed you.”

Michael kissed him again, longer this time. “Missed you too. Now shower. You smell like the floor of the Pony.”

[the-haven-of-fiction]

Not A Christmas Movie

Genre/Rating: Fluff and Sweetness of the holiday variety, T

Summary:  Tom and Astrid find themselves in a unique situation on Christmas Eve. 

Author’s Notes:  My first sappy romantic Christmas one shot, y’all!  Move over, Hallmark!  I tried to cover some of the best cheesy themes, I hope you enjoy it.  Thank you to Pillow Talk and Lolo for proofing.  

The sound of the wind and snow raced through the trees and whipped against the walls of the cabin, the remote mountainous location devoid of any welcoming lights from neighbors.  The two travelers dropped their luggage upon crossing the threshold and rushed to push the heavy door shut behind them.   

“When we get through this, neither you nor my sisters are ever allowed to make fun of my emergency preparedness again!  We’d be in major trouble without it!” Astrid declared, brushing snow off her jacket and holding up the lantern from the referenced emergency preparedness with her other hand as Tom attempted to lock the door.

“I think I can safely and assuredly,” he paused to run his tongue over his perpetually chapped lips in concentration, “give you my word as an Englishman that I shall never,” a grunt of effort, “allow either myself or your sisters to utter a syllable of criticism on that score.”  

She couldn’t help but giggle at his struggle with the lock.  

“Remember when you had the brilliant idea to build a set for one of our backyard holiday productions?  Was that when you played Scrooge?  Your word as an Englishman may be good as gold, but your complete lack of skill with anything slightly mechanical is something I wouldn’t swear by.”

Even in the dim light of the lantern, the slight twitch of a smile was visible on his face, the vision of the pathetic attempt so vivid in his memory.  

“No one is going to believe this,” she sighed, shivering and looking around for a light switch.

“Truth is stranger than fiction,” Tom quipped. “The best intentions of a Christmas surprise, a series of unfortunate events, a comedy of errors…”

“I blame my soon to be ex-mechanic, the weatherman, Anya and Arlyss and their crazy idea about trying to organize our families into coming out here to the wilderness to have some kind of storybook Christmas,” she huffed, fumbling along the wall, but finding the switch and flipping it to On in relief.

They both groaned when nothing happened.  No electricity, no heat.

“They must have disconnected the electricity during renovations, fantastic.”  He followed close behind her as they made their way around the cabin.  Although the snowstorm was in full force and there weren’t any outside lights on the driveway, they could see evidence of construction as they had pulled up a few minutes earlier.  

“Well, at least there’s a fireplace and I think there is actually a pile of wood next to it,” Astrid pointed as she spoke.  “How about that.  Must have been stocked by the same person who left the door unlocked. Remind me never to hire this company, whoever they are.”

“I could go outside and check for the…uhm…the…” Tom stuttered and gestured, making what she assumed was meant to be a square shape of some kind.

“The breaker box?” she asked dryly.  

“Exactly, yes,” he answered in a tone of false bravado, clearing his throat. “I was merely waiting to see if you knew the name.”

“Santa doesn’t bring presents to little boys who lie, ya know.”  She set the lantern on the mantle next to a small glass dish of matches.  “Especially little boys who grew up in a centuries-old estate and have servants who take care of locking the doors and fixing the electrical problems.”

“They are not servants, they are staff, Miss Sassy, and I doubt Father Christmas knows we are here, no one does,” he replied.  “Add the one forgotten mobile and the other with no service to the list of things that won’t be believed.”

“Well, anyways, Professor,” she went on in an exaggerated manner, “I may have a First Aid kit in my emergency supplies, but I am not equipped to perform any surgery on wounds you would most certainly incur from trying to play Electrician.”

He knew she was correct and they both smiled, cheeks rosy with cold.

“I suppose it was fortuitous that I ended up teaching Classics rather than embarking upon a career in carpentry.”

Astrid got a fire going and they were able to scope out their surroundings more thoroughly. A last-minute change of plans had allowed the visiting Tom and originally scheduled-to-work Astrid to join their families in the mountains for Christmas, but a quick succession of unforeseen events had brought them here, stranded close to midnight in a semi-livable cabin during a snowstorm on Christmas Eve.

The owners must have been undergoing some kind of renovations.  The cabin obviously had been inhabited previously, but half the interior wasn’t complete, including the kitchen.

“The toilet flushes!” she shouted from the bathroom.  “And there’s running water in the sink!”

“Unfortunately there is no sofa or chairs of any sort and only one bedroom,” he reported when she came back into the main room, “No fireplace, but it does have a bed with linens.”

“Well, my kit has extra batteries so we should be okay with the lantern in there,” she assured him, completely missing his point about the issue of a single bed.

He noticed that her shivering wasn’t decreasing as much as it should, looking her up and down in concern.  She was wearing an ankle-length corduroy skirt in a shade that matched her eyes, with a long-sleeved but thin sweater.  

“I think we should go through our luggage and put on a couple of more layers.  That centuries-old estate was a bit drafty, so I am accustomed to an indoor chill,” he informed her with a tinge of that irritating blend of both humility and privilege.

She rolled her eyes, but went over to her suitcase and started sifting through her clothes.  

“You and the twins have always been bossy. It’s a wonder how I have managed to get through life as an adult without the three of you hovering over me like you did when I was a kid.”

He pulled on another shirt and grinned at her.

“I still remember the day you were born.  I was visiting Dad and Roberta that year for Christmas,” referring to the alternating schedule their families had of who went to which country for the holidays. “And your sisters and I were old enough to be excited rather than jealous of a new child coming.”

Astrid turned away from him, hoping he wouldn’t see her reaction.  Why did it please her so much to hear him speak of her birth with such affection?  It must be this ridiculous situation.  And the holiday.  And her birthday.  And this sparkling blue-eyed man whose place in her life she had never been quite able to define.  Not a blood relation, but as close as a family member, certainly more than a friend.  But more than a friend, in that sense?  College and adulthood had made the unanswered question less important, as the shared summers and holidays of their childhood had grown fewer and fewer.  She didn’t let herself ponder why he hadn’t married and had a dozen children to help him keep up that manor. Any woman would be elated at the prospect of sharing her life with him; she knew he had a string of casual relationships, just as she had, but their age difference had made her sure years ago that he would be a distant memory by this time.  

“Born on Christmas Day to parents named Joseph and Mary, merely the beginning of my life’s trajectory of ‘You won’t believe this!’ events, continuing to this bizarre night that has practically every plot point needed for a cheesy holiday movie except that we aren’t secretly pining for each other.”  She zipped up the windbreaker over the thicker sweater before reaching for her parka, not seeing the brief flicker in his eyes.

“Did you know that Arliss wanted to call you Snowflake and Anya’s choice was Mistletoe?” Tom picked up her scarf and hat that he had placed on the hearth so they would be toasty and walked back to her.

“I hear that story every year, along with all the suggestions from everyone to aunts and uncles to the postman.  Thank God my parents went with something on theme, but not silly.”  She pulled on her boots after a second pair of socks and looked up at him.

His expression changed and he drew in a short breath.

“Do you like your name?”

The inquiry was brimming with something that sounded like hope to her.

“Oh, yes, I’ve always loved it.  In fact, I love it as much as I’ve disliked having a birthday on Christmas because it is beautiful and unique and it made me feel beautiful and unique.”

A wave of pure delight lit up his face and something clicked in her mind.  Her parents’ version of where her name came from was always that someone had mentioned it to them and they couldn’t remember who it had been.

“It was you, wasn’t it,” Astrid said.  And it wasn’t a question. “It was your suggestion.”

He worried at his lower lip, a tic she’d come to know years ago that was a sure indication of him being both pleased and embarrassed.

“Yes,” the soft affirmation punctuated by the crackles and pops from the fire. “And your description is precisely how I thought of it then, thanks to having just started Latin in school, and,” a heartbeat of silence, “it is how I think of you now.”

He was standing directly in front of her and paused to survey her face for a few seconds before tapping lightly under her chin.  

Without even thinking about it, it seemed, she looked up at the ceiling so he could wrap the heated scarf around her neck.  The warmth felt wonderful, although the feeling caused by this stunning revelation about her name and the look on his face was already warming her up in a way she tried to herself wasn’t happening.

He tucked her hair behind her ears and pulled the hat down while she argued with herself that he was simply being affectionate in the manner of a friend.

“Well,” she said, a little too loudly, stepping back from him, “That down comforter is calling to me, I guess we should be getting to bed.”

Good heavens, the bed, she thought.  As in one bed.  

As in here, as in they were stuck with a snowstorm swirling around them.  

In a cabin that was being renovated.  With no power or heat.  

On Christmas Eve.  

This couldn’t be real, it was not a Christmas movie.

“I suppose we should,” still in that soft voice.  

A distraction.  She needed a distraction.

“Oh!  I just remembered!  I have my favorite Christmas movie downloaded on my phone, we can watch it before we go to sleep.”

Less than two hours later, David Niven was giving his sermon and Loretta Young was gazing up at him while Cary Grant walked away in the snow.  Tom was propped up a bit against the headboard and had insisted on holding the phone so she could stay under the blankets.  Somehow she had ended up almost pasted to his side as the story progressed and his arm was around her.  About halfway through, they’d had a little tussle about whether or not he should leave the warm cocoon of the bed and get them another candy cane from her Snack Pack.  He argued that they had already brushed their teeth, but a sincere plea from her with an affectionate “Be naughty with me, Professor!” addition was something he simply couldn’t resist.  

She sighed and closed her eyes, contented and drowsy and finally no longer cold, too tired and confused to attempt to figure out what was happening, how years of ignoring what was just below the surface had nearly bubbled over.  It was impossible.  He wasn’t interested.  He was just being Tom.  Typical Tom.  Caring, attentive, making you feel like you were the only person in the room.  She wouldn’t think about this anymore right now.  Maybe tomorrow.  Or not.  

Tom closed the app on her phone and noticed the time.

“Hey there, it’s 12:01.”

“Mmhhmm,” she murmured, feeling herself about to drift off.  He was so familiar, so comforting, so exactly like Christmas itself should be.  She wanted to enjoy this moment before she went back to being the little kid and he the older…the older what?

“Happy Birthday,” he said and dipped his head to kiss her forehead, his breath sweet from the earlier candy cane.

She turned upwards toward him without opening her eyes to give him a peck on the cheek, almost without knowing what she was doing in her sleepy state, but she miscalculated and missed his cheek, her mouth landing on his.

He didn’t jerk back in shock.  Or horror.

It’s now or never, she thought, suddenly wide awake and ready to throw caution out the window that was probably frozen shut by now.

Ten seconds later, ten minutes later, she wasn’t sure which, he pulled back breathlessly and she opened her eyes. 

“What are you doing?” he asked in bewilderment, in surprise, but not in accusation.

“I’m kissing you, do you mind?” she responded, quickly pulling off her mittens and his beanie so she could sink her fingers into his curls.

“I, uhm…”

“Have no fear for your virtue, Thomas,” she teased in a low voice, tugging on a fistful of those ginger locks and causing a sharp gasp from him that thrilled her and gave her courage. “We are wrapped up like a couple of stuffed sausages in this icebox and there is a foot of clothing between us.”  

His gaze narrowed and focused on her lips.

Another kiss, sweet and shy, but sure.

“I thought we weren’t secretly pining for each other,” he quoted her words back to her.

“I lied,” Astrid admitted while placing a string of kisses down his nose and nipping the tip. 

The gasp changed to a growl, his grip on her upper arms tightening.

“Santa doesn’t bring presents to little girls who lie,” using her words against her, again.

She kissed him, again.  Longer, lingering.

They were side by side now, the blankets becoming tangled.

“Did you lie?” she whispered, not knowing what to do next if he denied it, but also feeling like she couldn’t let another minute pass without settling the matter.

He propped himself up on an elbow and raised an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t recall either confirming or denying your assertion at the time,” wanting to tease her in return.

“But,” he rushed to continue upon seeing her immediately crestfallen, “I will make it absolutely clear now,” each word followed by a brush of his lips across her jaw and down her neck, “that you,” lifting his head to smile at her, “are the one I desire.”

Tears of happiness welled up and slipped down her cheeks.  

“Happy Christmas, my starshine,” he whispered against her lips.

[thekitteninlove]

I had some free time this week, so i wrote another fanfic. Now i won't be surprised if you said that i'm annoying you with my love for the twins, but i can't help it. I rarely fall in love, but when i do it tends to last a long time and be quite intense. I made this blog to express myself, so i don't give a damn if you don't care about what i have to say. I'm going to express myself whether you like it or not.

Anyway, on to the fanfic

Title: A lesson in martial arts

Characters: Dean Tweedle

Warnings: smut, fingering, light bondage

The polished wood floor of the large gym room creaked under me as I was practicing the self-defense techniques Dean had been teaching me over the past few days. Since I wasn’t used to exercising so much I was quickly getting tired, while he looked like he could keep at it for a few more hours without breaking a sweat. I wanted to take a break, but at the same time I also wanted to impress my boyfriend, so I didn’t give up and continued training.

After a few minutes Dean sighed and said in a slightly amused voice “You don’t have much stamina, do you? We can take a break if you want to”

Dammit. Is it that obvious? I was a bit embarrassed that he found out how weak I was so soon. A part of me wanted to act tough and keep going, but I realized that I wouldn’t be able to fool him, so I accepted his offer and sat with him on one of the benches that were lined up against the wall. Since all the students were on vacation now the school gym was all ours to use.

While I was trying to figure out what the use of a piece of equipment in the far left corner of the gym was, I felt Dean shift on the bench and heard him say “As much as I enjoy teaching you this, there’s no need for you to learn this kind of stuff. You can just let me protect you”

This made me turn my head towards him, letting out a small gasp of surprise as I realized how close he was to me. He was leaning towards me and when I looked up at his face I saw that he was gazing at me fondly while giving me a sweet smile. My heartbeat finally returned to its normal rhythm after all that training, but now it began to beat faster again upon seeing his charming face so close to mine. I returned his smile and said “There’s no way you can protect me 24/7. We can’t always be together, which is why I need to learn this even though I don’t like it. I don’t want to be a burden to the people around me either. Also, I want to be someone who can be proud of themselves and being able to do most of the things alone would make me feel just like that”

“Alright then, if you’re so determined to do this then I won’t stop you. Just bear in mind that I won’t be lenient with you just because we’re dating.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, I’m pretty much aware that I’m dating the strictest teacher in the country” I doubt the word ‘lenient’ is even in his dictionary.

“If you knew that then why did you ask me, of all people, to teach you this?” Dean sounded a bit confused

“The truth is…” Since I felt a bit embarrassed to express my true feelings I hesitated a bit before continuing “I missed you, so I used this as an excuse to spend more time with you” I turned my head to the other side so that he wouldn’t see me blush, but he placed his hand on my cheek and turned my head back towards him. When I looked up at him I noticed that he had a mischievous grin on his face. Then I saw him leaning even closer to me before his lips met mine in a sweet kiss that filled me with warmth and left me wanting for more.

After he pulled away from the kiss, Dean told me “I also enjoy teaching you all sorts of things.” Then added in a slightly playful tone that told me he might be up to something “In fact, how about I teach you how to pin down your attacker?”

I wasn’t very confident in my strength so I thought of refusing his offer at first, but since Dean was the one suggesting it… well, I thought that I may as well give it a shot, so we went back to where we were before we took this break.

“There are many techniques in martial arts that can make your opponent submit. Now I’m going to teach you one that I think is easy to learn and I’m going to do that by first showing it to you.” Dean came over to me and continued his explanation. “This move can only be done if your opponent has his back to you, so turn around”

So I’ll first have to make my opponent turn his back to me or take him by surprise, hm? I thought as I did as he said.

“First you need to put your forearm in front of their neck like this. Then clasp your hands above their shoulder so that you can use the strength of both of your arms to strangle them” At that he tightened his hold on me, but not too much. “You’ll have to put more strength into it if you want to choke them, obviously.” He said in a lower voice since he was right behind me and the only thing that stood between us was our clothes. Just being so close to him made my heart race madly in my chest and my body buzz with excitement, making it hard to concentrate on what he was saying. “At this point your opponent should be slowly losing strength and sliding to the ground” Even though I was so flustered he sounded like he was quite calm as he continued with his instructions, seemingly unaware of how he was making me feel. “You must keep your guard up because there’s a chance that he might just be pretending to be weak to make you drop your guard. This is why…” He pressed my shoulders down to make me crouch down on the floor. “you shouldn’t release them from your grip. Instead, go down with them and if you have something with which you can bind them at you then use that to restrain them until help arrives” He grasped my arms and held them behind my back to illustrate his point, which I didn’t mind at all. He then unfastened the belt that I was wearing around my martial arts uniform and used it to bind my wrists. Once he did that, he suddenly pulled me even closer to him by the arms and murmured close to my ear “and make sure they won’t be able to escape. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master” I said trying to make my voice sound as calm as his despite the desire that was growing within me as fast as fire in a forest.

“That’s good” he whispered just a few inches away from my ear. “However, your lack of stamina is a problem”

Since the belt wasn’t holding my uniform top anymore, it was open and Dean took advantage of this to slide his fingers first under and then over the curves of my breasts. This made me sigh with pleasure and lean against his chest, wanting to feel him even closer. Then I felt his mouth on my ear as he grazed it before he said in a low voice “But don’t worry, my pet, I’ll help you increase your stamina”.

Judging by his actions, he was going to do that the naughty way and my heart began to beat faster in anticipation. Once he pulled off my trousers he began sliding one of his hands over my thighs and stroking them. It felt like a nice massage, which was exactly what my sore muscles needed at the moment. Meanwhile, his other hand was still on one of my breasts, teasing it by moving his fingers around my nipple. His massage was making me feel quite relaxed, but his teasing was making me want more. I would’ve used my hand to move his hand where I wanted it to be, but it was tied up behind my back, so I couldn’t do that. Then I decided to squirm a bit and since my movements weren’t completely restricted I managed to achieve what I wanted. I let out another sigh as I felt his fingers touch that sensitive spot.

“You naughty pet” I heard him whisper right next to my ear before he began to caress that spot.

“Mmh, Dean~” His touches were always making me feel at ease and content, but this time they were also fueling the fire of desire within me.

His other hand, which was stroking my thighs began to slowly make its way towards my core until he reached my panty lines, where he slid one finger under them and used it to caress that area. One thing I noticed about him after dating him for so many months is that he really enjoys making me squirm and doesn’t miss a chance to tease me. Now was no exception and as I began to squirm I heard him chuckle behind me, clearly amused by the predicament I was in. He moved his fingers along my panty line before he decided to take them off. However, his teasing didn’t stop there since he kept caressing me between my legs without going inside. Although it was a bit frustrating, I was enjoying the naughty things he was doing to me, so I further relaxed against his chest and let him do whatever he wanted with me. His fingers were doing wanders to me and I moaned in delight as they moved in circles on my sweet spot. After a few minutes though, I was at my limits so I said in a thin voice “I want them… mmh… inside me please”

“Hmm, you’re too vague. What do you want where?”

Dammit, how do I make him stop teasing me? I wondered to myself as I tried to bring myself to say those naughty words he wanted me to say “I want your fingers to, uh… slid in… um, right there where you have your hand”

As soon as I said that I felt his fingers steadily come into me and I relished in the delightful sensations their movement made me feel. Meanwhile, his other hand was still fondling my breast, which was intensifying the pleasure I was feeling. He then pressed his lips against my neck before he moved them further down and kissed me there too. While he was leaving a trail of kisses down my neck the dirty things he was doing to me with his hands were making my body gradually get hotter and the desire within me grow even stronger. Since my back was pressed against him I could tell that he was feeling the same way too. After a while he said in a low voice close to my ear “Now that I’ve got you so warmed up, it’s time for you to do some exercises”, then he pulled back his hands and told me to turn around. Once I did that he took off his trousers and beckoned me closer with his hand while smirking and saying “Ride me”. He was so alluring at that moment that I felt as attracted to him as if we were two magnets that were drawn together by an invisible force. I placed my legs on either side of him and took him inside me, moaning due to the pleasure given by the friction within me. I wanted to put my hands on his shoulders to lean on him, but they were tied behind my back. “Mmh, Dean… could you, ooh… untie my hands?”. However, he only smiled at me and said “If I do that you won’t get the exercise you need, so I won’t do that”

Ugh, fine then, I should be able to do it like this too. I kept moving my hips to and fro, while his hands roamed my body. He first placed them on my hips, then he moved them upwards with one of them going behind my back and the other over my waist. I could see that he was panting as hard as me and I thought that he looked so sexy like that, disheveled and with a flushed face.

“Don’t stop until I tell you to” he ordered me, to which I replied “Yes, Master”. I knew he likes to be called that, so I use that word whenever we’re alone like this, doing naughty things.

His face then drew even closer to my chest and kissed one of my nipples before taking it in his mouth. The sensation of his hot tongue over that sensitive area made a pleasant feeling spread throughout my body, which added to the waves of pleasure I felt within me that were steadily growing stronger the more I moved. Dean eventually lost his composure and pushed me down to the floor, moving faster than I had before. He pressed his lips hard against mine and began to kiss me passionately, while holding me tightly by the hips. I lost all train of thought as an intense and delightful sensation spread through me like lava during a major eruption.

It took a while for me to recover and when I did I said “I love you, Dean. I love everything about you, even your flaws”

He seemed surprised for a moment, but then he brought his hand to my cheek, gently caressing it, and said “I wish you would’ve seen me as the perfect gentleman, but…” a dazzling smile spread over his face as he continued “hearing you say this also makes me very happy”

“I also have my flaws and unlike you, I want you to acknowledge them. I want you to accept me for who I am. I know it’s a big favor to ask of you, but can you do that for me?”

“That’s not a big favor at all. I also do love you for who you are.” He looked fondly at me as he drew closer and gave me a quick, but tender kiss. After he drew back he untied the belt around my wrists and helped me to my feet. While I was putting my clothes back on an idea came to my mind, so I asked him “Will you teach me more things? I want to learn more”

“Sure. As I said before, I do enjoy teaching you. But do you have anything specific in mind?”

He seemed pleased by my request, so I replied “Well… anything that would prevent people from deceiving or manipulating me” My ex taught me a lot, but I still feel like I don’t know enough. I don’t want to be an idiot. They are the ones who are easy prey for those kind of persons. I want to learn more so that no one will be able to deceive me anymore.

“Hmm, alright then. Don’t tell me you’ve been deceived” Dean sounded a bit concerned

“Uh… no” Not recently at least

“If anyone ever tries to do that to you I’m going to make them sorely regret that”

“Thank you, Dean” My boyfriend was so protective and it made me feel really happy and loved. I hoped that our relationship would keep lasting for years to come so that we’d be able to continue making sweet memories together.

[wwitbeyondmeasure]

Summer at the Burrow : r.w. fan fiction

Previous Chapters

Introduction / Author’s Note / Chapter 1: The Journey to the Burrow / Chapter 2: Hidden Letters / Chapter 3: Ron’s Return / Chapter 4: Nighttime Conversations / Chapter 5: A Morning Surprise / Chapter 6: The Quidditch Match / Chapter 7: Girl Talk / Chapter 8: Aphrodite’s Push  

Chapter 9: Mistakes and Love Potions

You barely got a wink of sleep that night. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see Ron's eyes filled with regret. What had been the hottest moment in your entire life was punctuated by Ron wishing it hadn't had happened. Maybe it shouldn't have. Maybe you got carried away and he didn't actually feel any attraction to you. His mind was probably cloudy from it being so late and you just throwing yourself at him in the middle of the night.

A bright light switched on which jostled you out of your thoughts. 

"Rise and shine," Hermione sang, seeming very excited for so early in the morning.

"What time is it?" Ginny asked, her voice groggy and her hair a bird's nest.

"About 8am," Hermione replied, already folding her blankets and putting them away neatly. She always liked to wake up early. Maybe that's why she always did so well in school. 

Ginny angrily threw a pillow at her as you buried your head back into your blankets with a groan. You didn't want it to be morning. You didn't want to have to walk downstairs and face Ron in the light of day. Again, his face flashed in your mind. Regret. 

Hermione threw the pillow back at Ginny, hitting her in the back of the head with surprising accuracy. "Get up, lazybones!"

After 20 minutes of bickering, Hermione had finally coaxed Ginny out of bed. Ginny's room was a whirl of clothes as all three of you got dressed for the day. Your movements were delibertly slow, the thought of having to see Ron making you dread the journey downstairs. But soon enough, you couldn't delay your inevitable fate anymore and the three of you headed downstairs for breakfast.

Usually the smell of Mrs Weasley's famous bacon and eggs was a wonderful greeting in the morning, but this time your joy was dampened when you saw the back of Ron's head sitting at the breakfast table. Pretty much everyone was awake and sitting around the long wooden table, except for Percy and Mr Weasley who were both working. 

"Good morning dears!" Mrs Weasley said, plopping a large egg with hash browns onto a plate before handing it to you. Thanking her, you took the plate and turned towards the table. Without making eye contact with anyone, you took the furthest seat from Ron, which happened to be right next to Bill.

"Morning y/n," he said, giving you a closed lip smile as he chewed his breakfast.

Looking up at him, you smiled back politely. He was wearing a black button up shirt with the top three buttons undone. His pale chest contrasted greatly with the dark material, but he made it look good. His dark clothes, long hair, and dragon tooth earring made him look like a sexy vampire. No wonder you had such a big crush on him when you were younger.

"Morning," you replied.

"I heard about your fall during Quidditch yesterday," he said, trying to make casual breakfast conversation. Although you were usually chatty with the Weasleys, your heart was hurting too much to put much effort into talking today.

"Yeah, I did" was all you said.

"Reckon it was Fred or George's fault, huh?" Bill asked with a wink. You laughed lightly but kept your eyes glued to your breakfast. Looking up at the others would only make you want to look at Ron. And if you looked at Ron, and if he looked back with the same eyes from last night....your heart sank at the very thought.

A breakfast roll sailed overhead but Bill caught it in one hand before taking a large bite out of it.

"Good throw," he said to the twins, before turning his attention back to you. "Your cut looks like it's healed up nicely," he commented.

You nodded, "Yeah, Ron helped patch me up."

Just saying his name sent an ache throughout you but you still avoided looking towards his end of the table.

But then you felt someone leaning closer to you, the smell of pine needles filling your nose. It was a pleasant smell, but not as nice as apples and cinnamon.

From under your lashes you looked up to see Bill closing the distant between you rather quickly. Your heart skipped a beat as he raised a hand to brush your hair away from your face.

"Yeah, looks like he did an alright job," Bill said, lifting your hair to observe the healed bump on your forehead.

Second year y/n would have fainted in this moment. Bill Weasley, your first real crush, was leaning across a table to touch you? He was looking at you intently while brushing your hair away from your face? You should have been ecstatic. You should have been sweating from head to toe. But you weren't. Instead, all you could think about is how you wished you were smelling apples and cinnamon instead of pine needles.

"Oi, mate, stop flirting with her or I'll throw up my breakfast," George replied. Laughs erupted from the table and your face burned red.

You couldn't help yourself, your eyes glanced up and you immediately made eye contact with Ron. He was looking between you and Bill, an angry sort of look on his face. You knew he had problems with jealousy, being The Chosen One's best friend came with those kinds of setbacks, but why was he jealous about this? He was the one who regretted everything from last night, not you. An anger boiled up in your stomach, the image of Ron's regretful eyes playing on a loop in your head. Suddenly, you wanted to make him just as hurt as he had made you.

Turning back towards Bill, you put on your most charming smile. "I mean, you can flirt with me if you want to. Not that I'd mind," you said, batting your eyelashes. You were half joking, but half wanting to piss off Ron.

Ginny chuckled as Bill's cheeks took on a slightly warmer color. Fred and George faked puking into their cereal bowls. You looked at Ron and were pleased to see he looked absolutely furious. His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping his fork.

"Maybe y/n took our missing Amortentia from last night," Fred joked.

Your heart stopped as you turned to face the twins.

"Huh?" You asked.

Fred smiled before he launched into explanation.

"We had a couple boxes of chocolates with Amortentia drops in them in our room. We were planning on putting a few in Percy's morning tea, but when we tried to find them they were gone. Based on your flirting this morning, maybe you had eaten a couple," he said.

You shook your head, a feeling of dread starting to fill you stomach.

"I didn't take them," you responded. But you think you knew who did.

Ron cleared his throat uncomfortably before asking, "Were they in a blue box? With a little pink ribbon around it?"

Fred and George nodded their heads, every head at the table swerving to look at Ron.

Ron swallowed nervously. "Uh, I might've eaten them. Not on purpose though!" He promised, his face looking guiltier by the minute. "I was hungry when I was in your room the other night, so I took a couple of boxes. I didn't know they had Amortentia in them."

"Did you feel any different? Do anything different?" George asked, looking at Ron skeptically. Ron shook his head, and you knew he was trying his very best not to look at you.

Fred swore, which earned a disapproving glare from Mrs Weasley. "That means they're defective. We'll have to make a whole new batch before we can sell them at the shop."

"Or maybe," Hermione interjected, "You shouldn't be selling love potions at all! They are one of the most dangerous potions, and it is clearly wrong to be selling them in the first place. Honestly, didn't either of you pay attention in Potions class?" She looked distressed, obviously very upset that the twins didn't recall the negative side effects of Amortentia that Professor Snape had taught.

"Psh," Fred said, brushing her off with a wave of his hand as the conversation at the table changed. Everyone was talking about their plans for the day, full of ideas of playing Quidditch or Gobstones or maybe even taking a trip to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. Usually you would join the conversation, but your heart felt like it was cracking in half. The only reason Ron acted the way he did last night was because he was high off of love potion, he didn't actually feel anything for you. He didn't feel the same way you did, and you started to doubt if he ever will. Before tears could form in the corner of your eyes, Mrs Weasley made a statement that drew everyone's attention.

"You will be doing nothing of the sort today. Today you're all going to finish your summer Hogwarts homework," she held her hand up sternly to stop Harry and Ron from protesting, "no if's, and's, or's, or but's!" Her tone let everyone know that her word was final.

Everyone around the table groaned, except for those who had already graduated and Hermione who clapped happily at the mention of school work.

For the rest of the day, you and Hermione sat at the dining table working hard while everyone else half-assed their homework. Ginny and Harry sat on the couch, distracting each other and joking, while occasionally picking up a quill to write. Ron sat alone leaning against a tree outside with his books open but a blank expression on his face. You sighed unhappily as your gaze wandered over to him for the millionth time that hour.

"Okay, what's up," Hermione said, surprising you by setting down her quill and closing her Transfiguration book.

"Nothing," you lied, pretending to write an answer to your Divination homework. But your brain was too scrambled and your heart too heavy to get any real work done at the moment.

Hermione yanked your parchment out from under you to read your work.

"Hey!" You protested, but she started reading your answer aloud anyway.

"What does the moons transit into Venus this month mean for your love life?"  Hermione scoffed. "What a load of crap."

You nodded. Usually your grades were pretty good, not as good as Hermione's, but you were better at Divination. For some reason Professor Trelawney liked you and said you had an "inherently observant third eye." But today, your third eye must have been squinting because most of your homework answers were a little ridiculous.

"You answered with, 'Venus is just a big ball in the sky, therefore it knows nothing of love,' " Hermione gave you a wary look. "I hate Divination and even I know that's not the correct answer."

Shrugging, you grabbed the paper back from her and continued writing bullshit answers. The moon's transit into Venus was supposed to bring abundant love and joy, but right now that felt like the worst prediction in the world. The only boy you cared about couldn't even kiss you, even when he had taken love potion. What does that say about his feelings towards you?

"Y/n, tell me what's wrong," Hermione said, her voice almost as stern as Mrs Weasley's. Something happened with Ron, didn't it?,"

You had been holding in how you felt all day, and it was going to drive you mad. But just at the mention of his name, your emotional dam broke open. Before you could stop yourself, you gushed out everything that had happened last night to Hermione, your voice hitching towards the end when you recalled Ron looking at you with such regret in his eyes.

"Oh, honey," Hermione said, wrapping her hands around yours. "That's hard, but I think the best thing you could do is just talk to him about it." At the moment, you didn't really want to hear Hermione's advice. She was always right, and right now you just wanted to wallow in your self-pity.

She patted your hand, and inclined her chin towards the window, where you could see Ron sitting outside with a puzzled expression on his face.

"He hasn't written anything for the past 20 minutes, he's probably just as confused and upset as you are. Either that or he just started his Potions homework. Either way, just go tell him how you feel, you'll feel better," she promised.

You nodded, thanking her for always giving you the most wise advice. Before you could lose your nerve to do so, you packed up your books and parchment and walked outside. Ron heard you approaching and set his quill in his book before shutting it and setting it beside him. The trunk of the large oak tree he leaned against was thick enough that he didn't even have to move over as you plopped down next to him. The hard bark of the tree pressed into your back but it was comforting to feel something to keep you grounded as you started this tricky conversation.

"Hi," you said, refusing to look at him. His face was turned towards you but you couldn't bring yourself to turn towards him. If you did, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from kissing him.

"Hi," he replied.

A long silence stretched out into the summer air before you both started talking at the same time.

"I wanted to talk to y-"

"We should probably t-"

Blushing, both of you stopped.

"You go first," you said.

Ron nodded, his hands fiddling with the grass in front of him. He kept pulling at the roots, rolling the grass between his fingertips, and then pulling at the roots again. It was like he couldn't keep his hands still, like he had to be doing something with them. You desperately wanted to reach over and grab his hands in yours, but before you could muster up the courage to do so, he began to speak.

"I wanted to apologize for last night," he said. Your heart dropped. You came out here to tell him you had an amazing time and the only bad part was that you hadn't had the courage to go further, to kiss him. Yet here he was, apologizing. Apologizing as if last night had been a mistake.

"I didn't know I ate Fred and George's Amortentia, so that's probably why I was acting so...funny," he said, trying to find the right word. His voice was low and he was talking fast, like he always did when he was nervous. "So, anyway, I just wanted to say I'm sorry, and it won't happen again."

Your breath caught in your throat.

"It won't happen again?" You asked, desperately hoping that wasn't true. You turned to look Ron in the eyes, and as soon as you did he looked away.

"It was a mistake," he said, his adams apple bobbing up and down as he spoke.

"Oh," was all you managed to say.

And then Ron was standing up. He was standing up, gathering his school things, and walking away. Before you could even register what had happened, he was gone. You watched his retreating figure enter the house as you felt a hot tear slip down your cheek.

A mistake.

The word repeated in your brain and you choked on a sob. All you wanted, all you ever wanted from him was full honesty. And he had given it to you. He didn't want you, not in the same way you wanted him. You had to accept that. You had to.

So you gave yourself 15 minutes. 15 minutes to sit outside, cry, and let yourself be sad about how the boy you loved didn't love you back. After those 15 minutes, you promised yourself, you would walk back into the Burrow and pretend nothing happened. You would pretend Ron hadn't almost kissed you in the bathroom upstairs. You would pretend he hadn't cuddled with you the night he first came back to the Burrow, and you would pretend he hadn't touched you with such passion the night before. You would pretend you weren't deeply, madly in love with him.

You would go back to being best friends, just best friends. And you had to be okay with that, or else you would lose him.

[mordoriscalling]

The Shrike and the Lark (pt. 5)

Jaskier and Renfri are disaster twins ruling Creyden. When the Warlord of the North knocks at their door, Queen Renfri and King Julian are at an advantage - they know him. As in, they know him. (Inspired by the Warlord AU and “the heart is a winged beast”).

(Pt. 1) (Pt. 2) (Pt. 3) (Pt. 4)

Creyden, 1237

On the tenth day of the Warlord’s stay in Creyden, a famous travelling troupe of musicians performs after dinner, for the enjoyment of the King, the Queen, their court, as well as the White Wolf and his entourage. The group came on King Julian’s invitation, for he is a great patron of arts. Ever since he ascended the throne, he’s actively encouraged artists to visit and create under his sponsorship. As a result, the royal court of Creyden has become one of the cultural centres of the North, which silenced at least those who condemned the Black Sun monarchs as barbarians with no care for the finer elements of life.

The evening’s music is splendid and people take to the dancefloor eagerly. King Julian and Queen Renfri dance first four dances together – with the Queen as the lead and the King as the led, for the twin monarchs have been criticised for their non-traditionality so many times that, out of spite, they have made it their mission to shove it in everyone’s faces – but then King Julian leaves his sister’s side to ask Eskel to join him.

As King Julian and Eskel dance, their gazes do not stray from each other for a second, and smiles do not leave their faces. Too taken with each other, they do not take not of the scrutiny of the whole room falls upon them. After all, the Lark has never taken a lover so peculiar. The bulky, scarred monster hunter is a far cry from the noblewomen and occasional noblemen not rejecting the King’s advances in fear of consequences. Eskel is at ease, appearing somehow dismissive of their difference in station, which does not endear him to many in the royal court.

Their affair has not been received with the same disapproval by other witchers, with the glaring exception of the Warlord himself. It has been noticed, of course, that the White Wolf seems to bear a grudge towards the King. The witcher’s attitude towards the Lark has been frosty, especially during the negotiation talks. Yet, even then, the Warlord does not show his dislike as openly as he does now – his glower directed at King Julian could bring death to a lesser man.

The King, however, is no ordinary man in this regard. He is known to love proudly, no matter who holds his affections at a given time. And so, he answers the White Wolf’s glares with challenging stares of his own as he dances with his witcher lover.

The situation eventually reaches its climax. After their third dance together, Eskel and King Julian leave the dance floor and make their way towards the high table, chattering happily. The White Wolf raises from his seat and strides towards them, meeting them halfway.

The King’s good humour vanishes as the Warlord, who scowls formidably, stands before him. The room seems to hold a breath.

“May I request a moment in private, Your Majesty?” the White Wolf grinds out.

“You may,” the King permits coldly.

Julian leaves Eskel with a kiss on the cheek and a murmured promise of swift return, then heads out of the hall with the Warlord silently following in his footsteps. The two renew their conversation only when the door of the nearby war room closes behind them. As soon as no ears can hear them, the White Wolf lays the problem on the line.

“Put a stop to your dalliance with Eskel,” he demands. King Julian sputters but the White Wolf does not give him the chance to answer. “Either this,” he goes on, “Or court him properly and marry him. Do right by him. He doesn’t deserve any less.”

“That is true,” King Julian agrees, then falls silent. Eventually, he speaks again, his response measured, “You charged me with not being the same irresponsible man I once had been, but you weren’t entirely right. There remains one responsibility that I will dodge until my dying breath or else it will take away the rest of the air I breathe. My duties stifle me enough already.”

“Jaskier,” the Warlord sighs, exasperated. “Put it bluntly.”    

“I will not marry, Geralt.”

Anger sparks in Geralt’s gaze at the statement. “So what are you even doing with Eskel?” he growls, “Toying with him to your amusement? Does the prospect of the ruin you’ll bring to his heart entertain you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jaskier asks, his eyes narrowed.  

“You are the same with all your lovers, aren’t you?” Geralt asks. “You look into their core so that not a single vulnerability remains hidden from you. Then, you embrace them as completely as only you can – ” Soul-deep hurt unfurls in Geralt’s tone as he says this, seeping from in between the syllables until his voice is hoarse. “ – and then, you love them like they’ve never been loved before, just to walk away, leaving them forever aching for the fullness of your love.”

The accusations – so lashed out and yet so carefully structured – leave ringing silence in their wake. The White Wolf, vulnerable after having bared his heart, shifts away. Jaskier may now only look upon the witcher’s back. He attempts to form a reply but fails to make a sound. When he finally succeeds, he manages just one word.  

“Geralt,” he rasps, shocked, pained and pleading all at once.

Geralt does not answer the call; he clenches his fists but stands still.

Jaskier swallows thickly. “There hasn’t been a day since that I don’t regret leaving you,” he confesses, sorrow making his own voice waver, “I’m so sorry, but I had to. I had to find – ”

Geralt turns to Jaskier with a huff, baring his teeth in a derisive smile. “Don’t bother,” he says, then moves to leave the room.

“But I promised,” Jaskier insists, standing in his way.

“Fuck your promise,” the witcher snaps. “Fuck that, and the rest of your lies.”

“I did not lie,” Jaskier counters, now furious too, “The Jaskier you got to know is all real. Julian was concealed underneath, yes, I did not lie when I befriended you because you’re a good man, nor when loved you with every breath I drew – ”

“Shut up,” the White Wolf snarls, “Don’t you fucking dare say such things to me, not after you avoided all my questions –”

“I was too afraid! I was never sure if Stregobor was still after me or not, I was too afraid to be discovered. I never revealed my lineage to anyone!”

“You didn’t trust me, then.”

“I trust you with my life!” Jaskier cries.

The statement and the emotion behind it dance on the verge of saying too much. Geralt’s answer dies on his tongue and he stares at his former lover, stunned.

Jaskier goes to sit down at the table, covering his face with his hands. When he stops hiding his face, he does not look at Geralt. “The way you can’t speak of the Trails,” he says quietly, “just the same, I couldn’t utter a word of what Stregobor has done to my sister – my twin, the very half of my soul – or of how he made me submit to his tortures. Or of how I lived on the run, whoring myself, lying and stealing, until I finally turned the corner. I couldn’t face how that fucking mage shaped me into a wreck that I am.”

Geralt sighs, his anger faltering. “You saw me for the wreck that I was, that I am,” he replies. “All of it, and you didn’t flinch away. Why didn’t you allow me a single glimpse in return? You must’ve known that you had no rejection to fear from me.”

“And yet, I was a coward,” Jaskier admits. “I’m so sorry –”

“I don’t wish to speak of it anymore,” the witcher dismisses, measuring Jaskier with a hard stare. “Just be warned, Your Majesty: if you break my brother’s heart, there will be consequences.”

“Understood,” King Julian grinds out and raises from his seat. Then, he looks deep into the White Wolf’s eyes, bows his head and murmurs, “My lord.”

The Warlord clenches his jaw and storms out of the room.

The King returns to the feast alone, which is a fact not overlooked by anyone in the hall, including those seated at the high table.

“I wonder,” Lady Yennefer says to the Queen, “What’s happened between them?”

The chair separating the sorceress and Queen Renfri has been vacated. Without the Warlord in the way, the two women are now able to converse freely.

Queen Renfri looks at Lady Yennefer sharply. “Why is that of interest to you?” she demands.

“Your Majesty doesn’t have to distrust me so,” the sorceress reassures, “I have no ill-willed intentions. It’s just curiosity.”

Renfri accepts the answer, inclining her head just a touch. Her watchful gaze does not stray from White Wolf’s left hand for a moment. “You must excuse my distrust of mages, Lady Yennefer” she says, “It’s a result of what one of your kind put me through.”

“I understand,” Lady Yennefer replies smoothly, “Stregobor did take it way too far, but he was very fond of the influence which instigating fear of the Curse granted him.” She snorts. “I can’t say I miss his bullshit.”

“Damn right,” Renfri agrees, “The world’s better without him. His life is the only one I pride myself in taking.”

“It is an achievement of a sort,” the sorceress affirms. “Though, I must admit that I’m... cautious, facing a person who managed to kill one of my own kind.”

Queen Renfri smirks smugly but then schools her face into a neutral expression. “Mutual wariness suits fine with me,” she answers, reaching for her goblet of wine.

Lady Yennefer takes a sip from her drink as well. The two ladies are silent for some time, listening to the music and surveying the surroundings. They both chuckle upon witnessing King Julian quite literally dragging Eskel out of the hall.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t settle for mutual wariness,” Lady Yennefer suggests then. At the Queen’s questioning gaze, she explains, “One grows the most powerful by conquering their own fears.”

Queen Renfri regards the sorceress intently but the purple-eyed mage does not seem bothered by the intense scrutiny - she stares right back with a similar interest.

“I shall consider this thought,” the Queen says at last.  

Lady Yennefer’s smile is sharp and satisfied as she replies, “Then I am awaiting your answer.”

Renfri lifts her goblet up and drinks to that.

Read the rest on AO3

[rodeoxqueen]

Ever since I got this idea I haven't been able to stop thinking about Dante being a stripper cowboy 😳😳 Maybe smol shy S/O was dragged by her friends into a strip club when she caught the attention the attention of a certain red devil? 👀🌹 I have a mighty need for some Dante erotica, I'm sorry 😅

Howdy Howdy,

Partner, there’s no need to apologize. If anything, I’m sorry this request was sitting in my inbox for more than a week. I was watching as many male stripper movies as I could find to make this accurate. Here’s a fully written work to make up for the wait. 

Part II is in the making, I couldn’t fit all that raunchiness into one chapter. For my male and gender-neutral readers, I’ll do my best to write inclusive installments that make you feel sexy and well-loved by this stripper cowboy. All readers deserve a lap dance.

Yours,

Rodeo 

Can You Touch This?-Cowboy!Stripper! Dante/Reader-(PART I)(AFAB! READER)

Tags/Warnings: 18+, AFAB! Reader, Stripper!AU, Magic Mike!Au, Erotica, Minors Do Not Try It.

Read It On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28256070/chapters/69242487

You were never one for large crowds, alcohol, loud music, and nudity. So what a mess you were in, your friends dragging you into a strip club. 

It wasn’t your fault, they promised you were all going for a quiet dinner at your favorite restaurant. No loud noises, no crowds, and especially, you didn’t even know why you had to specify, no naked guys!  That’s what happened at first. You went and blew out your candles on your cake at a nice place, but then things got weird. Your friends had got you thoughtful gifts, except one of them who promised to give it to you after another “surprise.”

They practically herded you to their car, blindfolding and ear-muffing you while giggling. After driving in some unfamiliar directions, you were pulled into a strange building. 

So when you couldn’t hear your own thoughts due to the overbearing bass in the room you were in, you realized you should’ve known better. The blindfold and earmuffs were taken off and you opened your eyes to a neon-lit room with the most hard-cut abs right in your face. 

“A strip club?! W-why would you think I’d want to go to a strip club?” 

“Okay, first of all (Y/N). It’s a male strip club. Second, come on! I know you want to touch some diamond abs!” One of your friends exclaimed as they threw bills at one very tan and very oiled up man named Diego. The box from before landed on your lap, and you unwrapped it to find a giant stack of dollar bills. 

“Now stuff them bills down some hottie’s pants!” 

The orange thong-wearing male with the most defined quads you had ever glanced at winked at your friend and opted to dance on someone else. Clutching your drink, you swallowed thickly as other males who clearly went to the gym every other hour thrust their hips proactively at you. 

Your friends had called ahead and bought the lot of you a table to the stage, much to your chagrin. 

Luckily, your ability to disappear in a room, with your meek personality and small stature, came in handy in these situations. The tall and buff guys your friends screamed over seemed to prefer the company of the more extroverted and thirsty. While other tables farther from the stage had easy contact with the not-themed strippers, you were all confronted with the stage floor dancers. 

“My god, how many themes do these guys dress in?” You squeaked as an entertainer dressed like James Bond (minus the clothes except for the bowtie and gun holster) ground on the stage floor. 

“Not enough! Now make it rain, (Y/N).” Another friend demanded as she took another shot. 

You made a noise as your hand was forcibly placed onto an eight-pack. You quickly threw a wad of bills at the man and ran off to the bar. 

“I gotta go!” You panicked, speed-walking to the bar in your heels. Stomach quivering, you put a few bills down and asked for a stronger drink. Maybe you could pass out on the table and your friends would feel bad and take you home. 

You sighed as you watched your friends have the time of their lives, although they noted your absence. 

“First time?” The bartender asked, sliding your fruity drink to you. You fiddled with the napkin. A woman posed in the corner with the logo “Devil May Cry” to the side of her, all lined in neon pink. 

“Oh!... Yeah, it is.” You mumbled shyly. You blushed at his blue-eyed stare. Luckily, he wore a collared white shirt so you could look at him without bleeding out of your nose. He was very handsome, with rugged features and slight facial hair. His stark white hair shined even in the dim lighting. 

“Ah, could tell. Watched you get dragged in here.” He chuckled. 

“I-I was tricked, first of all!” You exclaimed, tucking some hair behind your ear. 

“It’s alright. Your next rounds on me if you stay a lil longer.” He winked, wiping a glass. A few other people came and went, requesting all sorts of raunchy-titled drinks. Despite that, he leaned on the table where you sat, making idle conversation. 

“I’m Dante.” 

“Nice to meet you, Dante. I’m (Y/N).” You impulsively stuck your hand out to shake and stilled at his strong and warm grip.

He whistled. 

“Nice name for a nice lady. It’s your birthday right?” You nodded. 

“What did you wish for?” 

“Peace and quiet.” He laughed at that, gesturing to your friends who screamed and clapped at a dark-skinned stripper who ripped off his pants. 

“With those friends?” He chuckled. 

“They’re a lot more restrained. This is an exception.” You whined. 

The conversation grew longer. You learned that Dante worked here with his twin brother Vergil. He loved pizza and strawberry ice cream, along with nice motorcycles. A total manly man, if you asked yourself. 

You found a safe space talking to him since you didn’t have to look at nude guys with your back turned. 

You were hoping to talk the night away until a similarly white-haired male with a serious glare rounded the corner. 

Swiping back a few stray hairs, the esteemed brother Vergil knocked the smile off his twin’s face. 

“You fool! Your shift has been over for some time now.” He snapped. Dante rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, this is old douchebag.” You giggled at his comment, quickly stopping when meeting eyes with the frigid twin. 

“Have you been speaking ill of me? I will-”  Dante threw a towel at his brother’s face before leaving the bartending station. By leaving, he jumped over the counter. 

“Hey, (Y/N), nice talking to you. I’ll see you later.” The white-haired man left to the employee’s room. 

“Alright-” You muttered. You’d sit, but Vergil’s cold glare prompted you to leave and rejoin your friends. 

“Where were you? Chatting up the bartender?” 

“Look at you. Being social in a strip club.” They teased. 

After a few more dancers, you couldn’t help but miss the blue-eyed bartender with his quips and casual flirtiness. 

Suddenly, the music and lights went off. The crowd stirred. Your friend grabbed your arm. 

“Oh girl they’re gonna need a mop after this.” 

“Ew!” You cried out. Your friends sang that one horribly sexual song from the radio. Something about parking a truck in a garage and about wet-

A shirtless DJ grabbed the mic. 

“And now, for our next entertainer, we have the Legendary Lady Killer. Hold onto your panties and your wedding rings, you’re all in for the ride of your life.” 

 The lights were turned back on from back to front. On stage, stood a muscular man with a cowboy hat and shawl. His legs were perfectly framed by black leather chaps and boots. You turned as red as his shawl as you could see his formidable bulge from yards across. 

His spurs clinked on the floor as people began to cheer at his physique. Your jaw dropped in shock. 

White hair. 

“Ladies, I got some questions for y’all.” He drawled, lowering his hat. 

“Yes! I’m single!” Someone yelled from the back. He chuckled as others screamed with agreement. 

“That’s nice ma’am. But really, I got three questions.” He made his way down the stage, his shadow covering your table. 

He palmed his chest and abs, showing white chest hairs and slicked down muscles. 

“Can you touch this?” Everyone screamed for yes. He tutted. 

“No, no, no.” He waggled his finger. He spun and exposed his lush tush. He was packing it front and back and you blushed while putting your face in your hands. 

His hands groped his own butt. Even with his giant hands, he still had more ass to spare. 

“Can you touch this?” The screams grew louder. He waggled his finger again, wiggling his butt. 

“No, no, no.” The crowd awed. He turned back around, a cocky grin on his face. 

“Now, ladies.” He pointed to the crowd. 

His palms groped the leather that concealed his huge package. 

“Can you touch this?” Your friend threw a wad of cash at him, hitting him in the nipple. He stood unflinching. 

“No, no, no.” He drew out each word. 

“These are my laws.” Putting his hands on his hips, he rocked left to right, clicking his spurs. 

“But I see a hell of a lot of lawbreakers here tonight.” 

He shifted to walk around the chair placed behind him. He sat on it backward, legs spread to place his groin in the spotlight. 

“And I don’t see a cop in sight.”  He pointed at the DJ. 

“Hit it!” Music blaring, he did his number. And boy, was the DJ right to warn you. Dante practically made sweet love to the chair, flipping his head back. 

Hips circling and then pistoning the air, sweat trailed down his pecs. 

You ended up throwing a few bills, hoping to avoid eye contact. It failed as he slid to his knees to the edge of the stage and crawled off the ledge onto your table. Like a preying tiger, he made his way over to you. 

Thank god you had health insurance, your blood pressure was going off the charts. 

Your friends lost their heads, throwing bills and screaming like banshees. But he wasn’t interested in them. His eyes preyed after your own, baby blues on an absolute beast. 

“Wanna save a horse and ride a cowboy, pretty girl?” He purred as he traced your jaw. Your skin jumped as you internally imploded. This was was too sensual and people were watching, for goodness sake! 

“(Y/N), if you don’t agree I will cancel your Barnes and Noble membership.” Your friend threatened. 

“Come on, spare this outlaw some sugar?” You didn’t have a moment to think. Dante threw his hat on your head and carried you onto the table and to the stage. 

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” You shrieked. 

He ran hot. So hot. Your skin burned at contact with him, pressed up against his chest as he stood you in front of the chair he practically humped. 

“Take a seat, lil lady.” You blushed at his sensual persona, not sure where the kind bartender and the suave cowboy started and ended. 

Obediently, you turned the chair around and sat with your ankles crossed. Dante tutted in disapproval. 

His hands lingered by your legs.

“May I?” He asked. You shook your head slowly, feeling his callused hands on your thighs. He firmly spread your legs and stood over you on the chair. 

As if that wasn’t enough, his arm muscles bulged and twitched as he ripped off his leather chaps. He ripped the chaps. There were no zippers or velcro straps. That was all him! 

Your face a hair’s width from his abs, he gently took your hands and traced his pecs with them. He growled and winked at you. 

Despite the one in a million situation you were in, you shrank at the many peering eyes of the other women and bar patrons. Your anxiety was seen by Dante, who tilted your head up. 

“Hey, it’s alright. Just focus on me. If you’re nervous, just give me a purple nurple or something, alright?” You laughed at his idea of a safe word and nodded. 

“Okay, Dante.” 

And like that, it was like you pulled a trigger. Dante grinded on your form and explored his own peak-conditioned skin with your own hands. 

You gasped as he led your hands down his front to his leather shorts. You couldn’t stop looking with widened eyes at his crotch. You had read erotica before, describing the male member in the throes of passion, yet this was the first time you had really been this close to anything like those erotic novels. 

It was obscene! Why did it seem to get larger? How was he allowed to carry that thing around without a license?! 

“Hey, eyes up here.” He teased as you snapped your head up. 

“O-oh! Sorry.” You whispered. Your blood had rushed to your head and you had grown deaf to your friends’ yells of validation. 

“Grab him by the buns!” One of your friends yelled. Dante turned around to make eye contact with her. 

With a grin, he slid your hands to the back. What he didn’t expect was you to squeeze. 

“Whoa now, kitty.” He purred. You gave a watery smile. 

Suddenly, a water bottle was thrown at his head. With lightning reflexes, he caught it after it bounced off of him. 

“Hey! Stage times’ over, you fucking show pony.” A short-haired woman with mismatching eyes called out. Dante scoffed. 

“Just givin’ a nice lady some lovin’.” He argued. 

“No, get off the stage, Dante.” 

“Five more minutes?” 

“NOW.” He sighed. Getting off of your lap, he kissed your hand that was resting on his thigh. Lord, if you died right now, that’d be fine. 

“Glad to have this dance.” He flirted. 

“Y-you too.” Taking your hand, he took you for another surprise and swept you off your feet. You squeaked as he handed you to another dancer on the ground. The club-goers cheered as dancers arrived, dressed like businessmen with briefcases. 

You were promptly seated, head dizzy from everything that just happened. You watched as he took his leave as if he didn’t just cause you to get feverish from how hot he was. Your friend hugged you. 

“Nice work! You were so lucky!” Another friend plucked the hat off your head. 

“Ah! He left his hat!”  You exclaimed as you took it from her hands. 

“A souvenir.” 

For the rest of the night, you held onto the hat and traced the red stitching. You never saw Dante for the rest of the night, his brother in charge of the bar service. 

Finally, before the last round of dancers, you were tapped on the shoulder. You found yourself staring into much harsher blue eyes. 

One of your friends threw money at him, which he growled at. 

“I am not an entertainer. Well, not right now.” He explained. He handed you a drink with a napkin on the bottom. 

“My buffoon of a brother said to keep the hat. Although, I’m not sure why you would.”

“I-”

“The drink is on the house. Good evening with you all.” 

 He walked off, and you took your drink. You realized it was the same one you ordered when you got to the bar. 

“Hey girlie, take a look.” A well-manicured nail pointed to the napkin. You saw in red pen an arrow pointed to the folded corner. 

You shakily opened it to reveal a series of numbers and words, along with a card that flitted onto the table. 

Tonight was fun, wanna do it again? The card’s for a private dance, just call and ask for Dante Sparda. No crowds, only you and me. No Lady barking up my tree for appreciating beauty either-DS 

A little heart with an arrow through its center was scrawled in a corner. You picked up the laminated card and saw it was for a free private dance. Your heart beat out of your chest. 

Your friends laughed as you immediately stuck it in your purse, along with the note. The club closed and you were all ushered out. The night was pitch black when you emerged from the debauchery that was the Devil May Cry strip club. 

As your other wasted companions were stuffed into the car, you sat shotgun to the sober and designated driver. 

You were silent the car ride home, laying your head against the window. You thought about that white-haired flirt’s remarks and how gentle he was to you.

Waving and embracing your wonderful friends, you left for your apartment with all your gifts. However, the little slips of paper in your purse weighed the heaviest on your mind. 

High heels in your hand, you climbed up the stairs home. 

After closing the door, you slid down the wall and let out a pleased sigh. 

“Best birthday ever!” You said to no one in particular. 

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Chapter Four: Intro

A week after Peru, we find our characters together again. Time to play this game one last time.

tws: choking, threats, mentions of torture

-

Intro

Cold light drifts in through the window of Trickshot’s nest.

He sits with one hand wrapped around Dok’s gun and the other wrapped around Dok’s hand. Clear blue eyes stare out at the cold grey pavement and the sheen of the bulky cars arranged like guardians around the motel with an intensity that has been his as long as you have known him.

And only growing, these days - the steel in his face.

At his side you can make out the familiar shape of his twin, pressed close to his body. Dok is holding him like he’s a rock-climber and Trick is the last thing keeping him pressed to the side of this steep and shifting mountain. You can hear him breathing. Exhausted. Trick plays quietly with his gun.

Maybe, once Anti comes back, he will sleep, but for now he watches, he watches, he watches. Nothing, he promises himself, will take Dok from his side again.

No matter what is coming.

cest-mellow asked: hey trick. you doing okay tonight?

Trick jumps at the beeping and whirls with Dok’s gun gripped, but it’s only Anti’s bag making noises and he rolls his eyes, calming again. You’re watching them through a camera high up on the wall of the hotel, but none of them look up at you.

“Mhh?” comes a confused noise from the other side of the room.

“It’s just the cameras, Blue,” Dok murmurs. “Go back to sleep.”

Blankets shuffle and go quiet again.

“Are you going to get the camera?” asks Dok, who’s mostly squished under his twin’s weight.

Trick purses his mouth and shrugs, turning back to the window. Dok doesn’t protest. He extricates himself from his brother’s limbs and pads over to take you gently from Anti’s bag.

“Hi,” he says, carrying the camera back to the window. “We’re okay, right, Trick?”

“Better when the others come back and we can get out of this shithole,” grumbles Trick.

But for someone who’s putting on a grumpy front, the way he reaches out to push a curl of Dok’s hair from his face sure is fond.

pine-storm-season asked: Hello! Are you guys relatively okay? How are you doing?

Henrik shifts uneasily, gripping his stomach for a second, but his smile comes back quick. “Trick and I are good, yes?”

“We’re fine,” says Trick. “Jet-lagged, tired. Bored. But things are looking up. Anti is finding us a real place to stay. Which is, like, weird, but I think maybe great news?”

“Usually he just finds the first empty house or warehouse or something and we stay there,” explains Dok.

“But this time he says we’re going to stay somewhere nice cause he’s got to help the others to - I mean, to help Dap to readjust. But he’s already doing better than he was a few days ago.”

“I wish Anti wouldn’t take him out for dirty work, though,” grumbles Henrik, turning back to the window. “Not good for him.”

“Oh, come on. There’s nowhere he could be safer than with Anti.”

“Emotionally, though.”

“Emotionally? Anti loves that little shit.”

There’s a slight tension between them. They stare at each other for a second, and then turn away awkwardly, looking back out the window.

“Blue’s not doing so hot, though,” adds Dok after a second, and Trick turns uncertainly back towards the bed behind them, his eyes dark.

Anonymous asked: Blue? Are you okay?

“Blue. Blue!” calls Henrik gently, turning back towards his brother. With both of the twins angled towards you, you can see them better. They’re wearing the same outfit, green jackets over white t-shirts and dark jeans on their legs, but Anti has yet to cut their hair identically again. While Trick’s is vivid green and long and curly in the front, Dok’s is trimmed short, short, short, leaving just a little on the top to stick up. Just the way he likes it. “The cameras have missed you.”

The blankets shift. You hear Blue breathing sleepily.

“You’ve been sleeping all day,” Dok prompts him gently. “Let’s get up and walk around a little.”

Blue groans and tumbles over in bed. Dok smiles and gets up, padding towards him, taking you with and leaving Trick watching uncertainly from the window.

bupine asked: what's wrong with blue?

“What’s wrong with you?” teases Dok, putting you on the bedside table and leaning in over Blue’s blanket-wrapped body, shaking his brother’s shoulder. “Lazy? Sleepy? Just love bed?”

“Siiiiick,” groans out Blue, pushing irritably at his brother’s prodding hands.

“Yeah, he’s been very tired,” says Dok, petting his short white hair. “He - he struggles in the world.”

“They were with me in Singapore,” mumbles Blue. “They know. Just more of the same.”

“I don’t know,” answers Dok, his amusement fading. “I worry you’re only getting more tired.”

The blankets don’t shift. Blue is trying to go back to sleep.

“You are resting too much, love,” Henrik prompts him softly. “Come on, up we get.”

“Too tired.”

“You can do it. Come on. Doktor is in. Give me a hand.”

Reluctantly, Blue allows himself to be pulled up to sit on the bed, his grey face listing wearily.

pine-storm-season asked: Hey, Blue, how are you doing? There was some chaos happening when we last saw you guys.

“Lots of chaos,” murmurs Blue, and he manages to wince and smile at the same time, clutching Dok’s shoulder as he helps him to his feet, pressing his cane into his hands. “What a miserable day.”

“Dap’s okay and we’re okay and it’s going to be alright,” Henrik answers softly, squeezing his palm.

“Mmhhh,” sighs Blue, resting on his shoulder as he rises.

“Walk around with me.”

“There’s nowhere to walk in here.”

“Just around the beds. And then tomorrow we’ll be somewhere new, with a little more space.”

“Or chained up in a basement somewhere.”

“We’ll deal with that if it happens. For now, we hold to hope.”

Henrik gives him his arm and they walk back and forth between the bathroom and the door of the motel room, heads pressed close together. Trick is staring at them with a sort of silence on his face, his eyebrows bunched together and his mouth uncertain. He glances at you and seems to remember you’re there, scowling and turning away from his brothers, curling up in his nest, waiting for Anti to come home.

pine-storm-season asked: Are you okay, Trick?

“Great,” says Trick flatly. “Can we just - why did Anti turn them on again? Now?”

“Stop being a little loser,” chides Blue, stepping over to ruffle his hair.

“Hey!”

“Look at this mess,” giggles Blue, leaning his weight on his back.

“Blue! Get off! Dork, haha!”

He’s smiling when he pushes Blue away, touching his brother’s cheek fondly. “Dumb-ass pretty boy.”

“Aww! You think I’m pretty?”

Despite the teasing, Blue looks genuinely buoyed.

“Yeah, Blue, course you’re pretty. We have the same face, after all. Except Dok, he’s pug-ugly.”

Dok jabs Trick in the side hard enough to make him yelp and Blue is left steadying himself on his cane as Trick lunges for his twin, trying to get him by the ear while Dok yells his protest and tries to dig his fingers back into Trick’s side.

“Hey,” warns Blue suddenly, tearing his eyes away from his brothers’ play-fighting. “Someone’s coming.”

cest-mellow asked: still got those necklaces, henrik?

Henrik turns to you as Trick pulls away from him, his blue eyes flashing. “You bet your ass,” he tells you with gritted, smiling teeth, bared the way a dog bares his fangs. “He keeps burning his fingers trying to take them off me. They’re not going anywhere.”

He wraps his fingers around the three little bumps underneath his shirt.

spicydanhowell asked: blue, dok, i'm so sorry about what happened to you. this isn't forever.

“It is Anti, finally!” cheers Trick, leaping up onto the windowsill and watching for him to reach the door, waving at the trio of brothers coming up the way. “Look, Red’s doing his dreamy thing again.”

Blue and Dok exchange looks, Dok moving to support him again. Blue hides against his hair for a second, breathing in the smell of him again.

“This isn’t forever,” Dok repeats quietly.

“One month, right?” Blue grips his hand.

“One month. I’m with you.”

“I’m with you. I’m here.”

Anonymous asked: How’s noodle doing trick?

“Oh, my gosh! The only question that matters! I’ll get him real quick before Anti comes back!”

Instantly perked up, he races to the middle of the room, where an extra door connects the motel room to the one beside it. He pulls it open - “oh, Dok, give me the camera!” - and carries you inside, where a slinky golden cat races up to greet him, purring and butting his head against his ankles.

Anonymous asked: Cat? Cat? You have cat, noodle cat?

“Who’s my good kitty? Who’s my good baby? Noodle cat, mwah, mwah.”

He scoops his cat up and smothers his head in kisses, devolving into cooing baby talk and rocking his cat against his body while Noodle meows. As reluctant as he is to see you, he loves showing off his cat.

“Okay, baby, stay in here, papa will be back. Yes, you have to, muffin, you know Anti doesn’t want to see you. Who’s my baby? Yes, there’s my Noodle.”

Anonymous asked: How is everyone Trick? Are you doing okay?

“I’m okay! Everyone looks okay, I think.”

Leaving Pot Noodle behind, Trick closes the door gently and returns to Blue’s room, where his siblings have relegated themselves to the bed, watching the door cautiously. Trick steps forward to open it before the others have even reached it, grinning out at the world.

“Hi, Anti,” he says cheerfully.

Anti moves into his space and kisses the side of his head, his eyes boring into Blue and Dok’s as he presses his mouth to Trick’s fervently green hair. Blue turns his eyes away and Dok shrinks in on himself, clutching Blue’s hand.

“Hi-ya,” answers Anti pertly, his eyes flickering from black to blue. His hair grows out fluffy and green to match Trick’s and he draws back to smile at him. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, Anti. Everything okay with you guys?”

“No hitches at all. Not a scratch on anybody. When was the last time you had a kill that easy, Dap?”

Deep blue eyes stare back at Anti from the doorway. Dapper’s hand rests on the wall outside the motel like he can’t quite make himself step in.

But he does.

“Can’t remember,” he signs back in slow movements, removing the jacket from his shoulders. You see Blue stiffen as though injured. Dapper’s dress shirt is soaked in blood. He pulls it off, his expression mildly unhappy, and takes another shirt out of Henrik’s backpack.

“You’ll need a shower first, Dap,” Blue tells him. “It’s on your skin.”

“So it is.” He stares down at his hands.

“Go clean yourself up,” Anti orders. “Go, go. There’s a good boy. You check in with Dok before you fall asleep tonight. Where’s his medicine, Dok?”

“Here, Anti,” replies Dok, patting the bedside table.

“Good, good. So yes! Everyone is okay. Everything is okay. And now that we’ve got that done, we can move in to a new place tomorrow.”

Trick straightens up. “Really? Like a real house?”

“Oh, you’re going to like it, Rikki-Tricki-Tavi,” answers Anti smugly, glitching the blood off his hands. “You’re all just going to love it.”

Anonymous asked: Why does anti not want to see noodle trick? D:

“Anti doesn’t like animals,” Blue reminds you in a whisper, curled up at Dok’s side.

cest-mellow asked: what do you mean by “dreamy thing” trickster?

Red’s behind the others, moving slow and steady, kicking peacefully at a rock. Trick laughs to himself and points you at him, sitting down on the bed with Blue and Dok while Anti moves over towards his computer on the second bed. Everyone watches Red come into the room, his eyes unfocused and faraway, a faint smile on his face.

“Red?” calls Blue.

Red doesn’t answer, shutting the door gently behind him and moving forward - promptly smacking his hip into the minifridge. “Ow!” he yelps, stumbling back and looking up in alarm, confused to see everyone staring back at him.

Trick bursts into laughter, mimicking the way Red’s head was bobbing, as though he were listening to music.

“You spaced out again,” Blue tells him.

“Fuck,” hisses Red, rubbing his hip. “Shut up, Trick!”

“Fucking idiot,” laughs Anti. “Pay attention. Still dreaming of your boyfriend?”

Red flushes, humiliated, and moves towards the door to the other room.

“Camera,” Anti reminds him pointedly, and Red rushes back to grab one from his bag before darting back into the room and shutting the door beside him, leaving Blue staring worriedly after him.

bupine asked: red, are you ok? if you're worried about max, he's ok as far as we know.

“Oh, great,” says Red, still the color of his name, not quite meeting the gaze of you. He’s irritated and fast-moving, shaking his hands out again and again. “Well, that makes everything just peachy, then.”

He forces himself to sit down, staring out the window.

“Sorry. Things have just been weird lately.”

cest-mellow asked: jaki3 are you alright? has anti hurt you, do you have to stay in a separate room?

“No, no, I’m okay,” sighs Red, running his hands through his hair. “I mean, I just watched my baby brother tear this helpless fat guy to shreds, but hey, that’s just my life. Nah, Anti hasn’t hurt me, he just keeps making fun of me. And I can handle that. I think he’s pissed I was with Max at all when he found us. That I let Dap near Max.”

He puts his chin in his hands, his eyes drifting a little again. “Doesn’t like for me to talk about it, so I don’t…”

A smile floats across his mouth. He stares dreamily out the window, his legs swinging over the side of the bed when he sits down.

“Oh! Why am I in a separate room? Anti just got two, that’s all. And we gotta keep the doors closed cause of this little guy.” He pats Noodle’s head and the cat purrs, crawling into his lap. “Blue will come in and sleep with me tonight, though, so I’m not alone.”

pine-storm-season asked: Yeah, they probably have been. Is this a common occurrence, Red?

“I’ve been spacing out a lot, yeah,” grumbles Red, cheeks dark. “Stupid. I keep getting in trouble cause of it. Anti doesn’t think I’m listening to him. So now Trick’s been telling me what to do.”

He rolls his eyes. “Blue and me got in too much trouble lately. Not really top dogs anymore, I guess. But it’s almost a relief. I don’t think I want to have to push anybody around anymore. Anti says I’m going soft on him.”

pine-storm-season asked: Are you and your brothers more equal now, then?

“No, uh, well.” Red laughs. “When I say we’re not on top anymore? Trick’s in charge now. And he’s wrapped around Anti’s fucking pinkie these days. He’ll snap at Dok himself if he thinks he’s getting short with Anti.”

Red’s eyes fall for a moment. He picks at the raggedy sheets on his bed.

“I’m worried about him. Not acting like himself.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Red! What's got you distracted?

He shrugs and gives a small smile, though it’s equal parts sad and happy.

“Don’t know,” he says. “I space out sometimes when I’m overwhelmed and stuff. But this isn’t that. I used to be able to focus pretty clearly on right now. But now it’s like… I don’t know. I just keep thinking about different things. I guess I’m thinking more about the future. And not just about making sure everybody’s going to have enough to eat. I can just… imagine things, now, I guess. That I didn’t before. I imagine a different future than I did before.”

He scratches Noodle’s tummy, letting out a low sigh. “But it’s just dreaming.”

The door to his room swings open and he turns to smile at Blue, but it isn’t Blue there.

Trick holds his backpack to his stomach nervously, staring at Red.

“What?”

“Um. Anti told me to stay in here tonight.”

Red straightens up, blinking. “What? In here?”

“Yeah.”

“What, like, share the bed with me? Where’s Blue? And Dok?”

“I don’t know, staying in that bed, I guess,” says Trick, looking stressed.

“Anti wants you and me to stay together?”

“That’s what I said!”

They stare at each other, seeing each other’s discomfort mirrored.

“Anti’s not… taking us away from Blue and Dok, right?”

Trick shrugs, chewing on his lip. “I just got him back,” he mumbles.

cest-mellow asked: anti, why are you separating the boys from their twins..?

“Trick, tell the cameras I don’t answer to them.”

“Cameras, Anti doesn’t answer to you.”

Anti laughs. “You little kiss-ass. I was kidding.”

“Okay, but actually I would… not mind knowing the answer either,” offers Red weakly. “If that’s okay, master.”

“I’m still figuring it out. You’re still twins with your twins. Don’t ask questions, just do what I say.”

Trick stares at Dok, their eyes meeting. Dok tries to reassure him, but his smile is small and afraid, his hands stretched out towards him. Trick tries to smile back.

“It’s late,” says Anti. “We’ll move early tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

Trick swallows and signs good night at Dok before slipping into the second room. Red stares back at him, looking tense.

“Well, this is going to be fun,” says Trick.

In the other room, Anti’s smile has not changed. He stalks towards Blue and Dok. Before they have a chance to say anything, he has a hand on both their throats, pushing them down onto the bed. Blue closes his eyes, trying to breathe slow and calm. Doktor stares back at Anti, his eyes furious and scared.

“You two,” breathes Anti, his eyes drizzling to black, teeth sharpening in his mouth. “Are still trying to be my little trouble-makers, aren’t you? You think I’m going to give you free reign with your twins knowing what you know? Knowing how you feel?”

“Hurt me now and I’ll shout so Red hears me,” threatens Blue, panting.

Anti shoves against his throat, making him choke. “Right. Good luck with that. No, Blue. I still need your body at nights to get me through the sickness I get otherwise. And you, Dok…”

He moves his hand to Dok’s stomach and squeezes. Tears well up in Dok’s eyes, but he does not make a noise.

“Good,” growls Anti. “You know what will happen if you tell him?”

Dok nods swiftly, closing his eyes.

“Then keep your fucking mouth shut. Sooner you break back into shape, the sooner I’ll let you sleep next to Trick again. For now, you stay with me at nights, and you’ll look after Dapper and Blue. Understand?”

Dok nods again, tears washing down his cheeks.

Anti shoves him off the bed. Dok crashes to the ground and scurries into the corner, hiding his face in his thighs.

Blue chokes again, beginning to get desperate for air. Anti crawls over his body and leans down on him, gripping his head to turn his eyes towards him, and there is nothing Dok can do to stop him from possessing his brother once again.

“We’re playing this game just one more time.” Anti licks Blue’s lips, throwing his head and adjusting his clothes, sitting up in the fragile body no matter the strain he causes it. “Just one more time, like Red said. And I intend to fucking win.”

Dapper steps out of the bathroom, toweling off his hair. Doktor will not look at him. Anti looks back at him with Blue’s eyes.

Something hot and painful twists inside his gut, but when Anti reaches out for him, he goes quietly, and he lays down at his brother’s side like he always does.

Playing this game just one more time.

Henrik wraps his fingers around the ravens on his chest and he grits his fierce teeth in his mouth.

Well, then. Let’s play.

.

Dapper waits until Anti is asleep.

He does not like to be touched by him, these days. He does not want to be held. He does not want to share a bed. Especially when it is Blue beside him, trapped beneath Anti’s power. He does not want to see his sibling in pain.

Anyway, he can see Dok trembling in the bed beside his own.

He slips out from beneath Anti’s arms wrapped around his throat, pausing to make sure his breathing stays heavy and thick. When Anti does not wake, Dapper slinks to his feet and touches Dok’s shoulder.

Dok jumps so hard he nearly slams their heads together. Dapper holds him gently down and rubs his shoulder, waiting for him to calm.

“What?” whispers Dok, astonished. “Dap, are you - ”

He holds a finger to his mouth and takes Dok’s hands, pulling him out of bed and leading him to the bathroom.

“Are you okay, Dap?”

“Sit on the counter.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats, pushing him. “Sit, sit.”

Dok has been crying. His face is still red. He turns his head away and hoists himself onto the counter, staring at Dapper like he might be the one possessed.

“What, I never given you an order before?”

“I don’t believe you have,” replies Dok. “Or woken me up for anything.”

“Usually you have Trick to look after you,” answers Dapper, and he reaches for Dok’s shirt.

Dok’s hands grab his own, his eyes wide.

Dapper looks back at him, not letting go.

“Don’t look,” breathes Dok, his voice shaking. “Don’t, there’s… I’m self-conscious, I…”

Dapper laughs again, his random, wild laugh without any noise but a humorless huffing.

“Did Anti tell you?” asks Dok, feeling his cheeks heat.

Dapper snorts and shakes his head. He helps Doktor pull the shirt over his head.

“Anti doesn’t have to tell me anything,” he replies shortly, taking the med kit from beneath the sink. “I know everything he does. You shouldn’t have tried to stitch this up yourself.”

Dok closes his eyes as Dapper’s hands run over the deep cut in his stomach, coated in struggling stitches.

“They’ll hold.”

“Since when do you know anything about stitches?” whispers Dok.

“Since I’ve bandaged myself and Red up a hundred times before, that’s since when.” He gets antiseptic from the bag and begins cleaning the wound. “I don’t like to be under-estimated, my darling.”

“I thought that was how you survived,” Dok pants back, staring at him.

Dapper doesn’t answer.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you these days,” says Dok, coughing at the pain as Dapper cleans the wound Anti gave him. “I’m scared you’re still suicidal and you won’t tell anyone. Your expressions are always wrong and I don’t know if it’s the schizophrenia or something else going on with you. I want to say you’re not acting right, but the truth is, I don’t remember how you used to act. Or who you used to be… I think a different person than this.”

Dapper looks up at him for a second, and then away.

“Are you angry, Dapper?”

He gets a bandage out of the bag and begins pressing it onto the wound, tearing away the sticky sides of the big white band-aid.

“Are you still suicidal?”

“No one here knows me,” Dapper tells him suddenly, his hands nearly in his face. “Let’s not pretend that you do.”

Henrik stares back at him, his face still hot from crying.

Dapper softens again, brushing water from his cheeks.

“I love you,” he says. “I know how to take care of myself. You should do the same. Tell Anti what he wants to hear, take the necklaces off, and go back to your twin. Be grateful you have the chance to earn one.”

“Don’t say that to me,” whispers Henrik. “I know that’s not what you want. I know. We all saw how badly you wanted things to change on the side of that cliff, Dapper. Don’t lie to me.”

Dapper watches the floor.

“I love you,” Dok adds, touching his cheek. “Even if I don’t know who you are… whoever that person is, I love him.”

Dapper closes his eyes for a second. He looks up again a moment later, his eyes tired, and he leans in to kiss Dok’s cheek, holding the back of his head.

“I love you too. But Anti is going to keep doing things like this to you. And I know you won’t tell Trick.”

“I can’t watch him get hurt because of me.”

“I know.”

“You looked after me just now. I want to look after you too. And Anti says I can. Promise me you’ll be honest with me, Dapper. I can’t watch you go back to the place you were in last week.”

Dapper stares at him for a long time.

“And I can’t watch you go back to being Anti’s favorite thing to hurt.”

Henrik’s mouth parts. He isn’t sure what to say.

“None of you know how hellish Anti could make your life, really,” whisper Dapper’s hands. “You, and all of our siblings, and anyone on the cameras - none of you know. I am the only one who remembers. I am the only one who still has the nightmares. I am the only one who still carries that. Doktor. Don’t make Anti angry again. If you think that what you remember is bad… you don’t want to remember the rest.”

Dapper kisses him again, on the heel of his palm, and for a second, the emotion on his face is real and right and true, and he does not laugh.

“Go back to sleep, H-healing,” he signs. “And don’t risk your life and your sanity on the promises of ravens.”

He draws away from him, his blue eyes dark. Henrik sits on the counter for a long time, in silence, his hand over the bandaged wound in his side.