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kaynothanks · 2 months

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The Bargain Store

Pairing: Loki x goddess!reader

Summary: You, a goddess hiding on Earth, encounter Loki, who eons ago vowed to kill you. Loki never was one to keep his word.

Warnings: (18+ mdni) loki, what else? the smut just happened, i don’t even know how (yes, I do), oral (f receiving), loki has ulterior motives, mention of blood (lip), unprotected p in v, vaginal fingering

Word-Count: 6.5 k

Nobody suspected anything. Never had. For the past few decades, you had been the owner of your little shop, after spending many centuries on the run.

Throughout centuries, there had been wars and revolutions, plagues and remedies. You had stood witness to them all. Watched from the distance as civilizations went into ruin and new ones emerged. You had made sure not to get too involved. It wasn’t your place; not your planet and not your people. Still, you had been on earth for a big part of your lifespan. In your world, you weren’t anything special, a sheep in a broad herd. And you had had enough of it. So, you had left. Ran from your responsibilities, bid no goodbyes and settled for something less.

Centuries had woven themselves into the very fabric of your being, each era a thread in the intricate tapestry of your existence. You had been many things: a whisper in the wind, a shadow in the twilight, a force as ancient and unyielding as the stars themselves. Yet, for the last few decades, you had chosen a far simpler, more unassuming role—a shopkeeper, tending to a quaint little establishment nestled on a serene street, far removed from the cacophony of the bustling city that surrounded it.

Your shop was a sanctuary, not just for you, but for all who sought refuge within its walls. From the outside, it appeared no different from any other boutique that dealt in herbs, teas, and the occasional curious trinket. However, its essence was imbued with something far more ancient, a magic that hummed quietly beneath the surface, perceptible only to those who truly believed or those who, like you, were of another world entirely.

This little shop was your haven, a place where you could be both less and more than what you were. Here, you were not the goddess who had danced among the stars, who had witnessed the rise and fall of empires, who had fled from a war that threatened to consume her very soul. Here, you were simply the keeper of secrets, of remedies both mundane and magical, offering solace to the weary and the lost.

Your reasons for choosing this existence were manifold, but at their core lay a desire for peace, for a semblance of normalcy in a life that had been anything but. You had grown weary of the endless conflicts that had defined your existence, of the power struggles that had torn apart realms and ravaged worlds. Earth, with all its simplicity and complexity, offered a respite, a place where you could hide in plain sight among its inhabitants, who remained blissfully unaware of the greater cosmos that swirled around them.

The shop became a reflection of your desire for tranquility. Its walls were lined with shelves laden with jars and bottles, each containing herbs and potions that held whispers of your old world. You delighted in the mundane tasks of tending to your plants, mixing herbs, and brewing teas, finding a sense of purpose in the healing and comfort your creations provided. Your customers, none the wiser to the true nature of your being, were drawn to your shop by an inexplicable pull, leaving with remedies for their ailments and, sometimes, a lighter heart.

For years, this life had been enough. You had convinced yourself that you could forget, that you could move beyond the past and forge a new existence among the humans you had come to cherish. But the past, as it often does, refused to remain buried. It came for you on an unremarkable day, shattering the peace you had so carefully built with the ringing of the shop's bell and the entrance of a figure from a life you had tried to leave behind.

Loki's arrival was a storm on the horizon, a harbinger of chaos that threatened to upend the world you had created. The God of Mischief, with his piercing gaze and sly grin, embodied everything you had fled from: the power, the destruction, the endless machinations of gods and men. His presence in your shop, a place that had been untouched by the affairs of gods for so long, was a stark reminder that one could never truly escape their nature or their past.

The last time you had seen Loki, it was on the battlefield. You had been on opposing sides, and his last words to you were a vow of death. Yet, here he stood, looking around your shop with a curious gleam in his eyes, not having recognized you yet. Or had he? With Loki, one could never be too sure. You steadied yourself, the mask of the shopkeeper sliding effortlessly into place. "Can I help you find anything?" Your voice was calm, betraying none of the turmoil inside.

Loki turned his attention to you, his green eyes piercing. For a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of recognition, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "I'm looking for something unique," he declared, the silk of his voice wrapping around you like a familiar shroud. His steps were measured as he approached, the predator within barely leashed. "A gift for someone who values... rare items."

You couldn't help but wonder who Loki would consider worthy of a gift. Your curiosity, however, was a dangerous thing, especially around him. "I have a few rare herbs and special tea blends. If you're looking for something more unique, perhaps a potion or two? Depending on what you wish to achieve." You kept your tone neutral, professional.

It was a game of cat and mouse, and you both knew it. Loki's lips twitched into a smile, and he moved closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "And what would you recommend for someone seeking... forgiveness?"

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, the mask slipped. Loki was asking for forgiveness? From whom? The thought that it might be you crossed your mind, but you dismissed it just as quickly. "Forgiveness is not easily obtained by potions alone. It requires sincerity and action. But," you paused, turning to fetch a small, unassuming bottle from a shelf behind you, "this may aid in opening the heart to forgiveness, making it more receptive."

He took the bottle, examining it with a thoughtful expression. "And what do you seek, shopkeeper? What would you have me pay for this aid?"

"Peace," the word slipped out before you could stop it. It was the truth, however. Peace was all you had sought by coming to Earth, peace from your past, from the endless battles and politics of gods.

"A tall order," Loki mused, placing the bottle down and stepping closer, invading your personal space. "But perhaps not impossible."

The tension between you was palpable, a dance of curiosity, old grudges, and unspoken questions. "Why are you here, Loki?" you dared to ask, needing to know his purpose. Your heart raced, not just from surprise but from a resurgence of a darker thrill you thought you had buried deep within. The life you had led before, filled with power plays and destruction, beckoned with a seductive finger through Loki's emerald gaze. As Loki dared to step closer, crossing the invisible boundary you had mentally drawn around yourself, a surge of defiance ignited within you. Your heart raced, not solely with fear but with the resurgence of a power you had long kept dormant. With a thought as sharp as a whispered incantation, you summoned a dagger into existence. It materialized in your hand, its golden blade gleaming with a light that spoke of ancient magics and forgotten realms. This was no mere weapon but a relic of your divine heritage, a testament to the might you once wielded freely.

You didn't hesitate. The years had taught you caution, yes, but they had also honed your instincts, sharpened them into lethal points. As Loki advanced, a smile playing on his lips as if he were merely a predator toying with his prey, you struck. The movement was fluid, a dance you had performed countless times across the battlegrounds of the stars. The blade sliced through the air, aimed with deadly precision at the figure before you.

But the strike met no resistance. Instead, the dagger sliced through the illusion, the projection of Loki dissipating into nothingness, leaving behind only the faintest traces of his magic in the air. It was a trick, a mere sleight of hand from the God of Mischief, and you had fallen for it. A cold realization washed over you, a reminder of Loki's cunning, of the depths of his power which, it seemed, had only grown over the years.

Before you could recover, before you could even curse your own folly, arms enveloped you from behind. It was an embrace as familiar as it was unexpected, one that spoke of countless lifetimes and entwined destinies. His hand snaked around your waist, securing you against him with an intimacy that belied the years of separation and the shadow of past betrayals. The other hand, firm and unyielding, gripped hold of your wrist, effortlessly disarming you of the dagger you had conjured. Its golden light flickered and died, leaving you exposed, vulnerable in a way that went beyond the physical.

Loki's breath was warm against your neck, his presence a cloak of inevitability you found yourself powerless to resist. "How I have missed you, darling," he murmured, the words vibrating against your skin, a mix of threat and endearment. In that moment, with Loki's arms around you and his voice weaving spells of its own, you were transported back across the aeons, to a time when love and war were intermingled, and your fate was inseparably tied to the whims of gods.

The realization that the figure you had attacked was but a projection, a mere echo of Loki's true self, sank in with a weight that was almost suffocating. It was a reminder of his mastery over illusions, over the realities he could weave with a mere thought. Yet, the arms that held you, the breath that teased the hairs at the nape of your neck, they were undeniably real. This was no illusion but the god himself, in flesh and blood, as tangible as the tumultuous history you shared.

The conflict within you, a storm of emotions and memories, raged with renewed intensity. Loki's proximity, his touch, it reignited flames you thought had long since turned to ash. But this was not the time for reminiscences, for getting lost in what had been. The immediate truth was that Loki, the very being who had once vowed your destruction, now held you within his grasp, not as an enemy, but with a possessiveness that spoke of deeper, more complex intentions.

As his hand released your wrist, letting the vanished dagger be forgotten, you were left to grapple with the reality of his return. His words, laden with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher, echoed in the silence that followed. Was it a declaration, a manipulation, or something in between? With Loki, the lines were always blurred, the truth as shifting as the sands of time. The shop around you, once a sanctuary of peace, now felt like a stage set for a confrontation centuries in the making. The tranquility you had so carefully cultivated was shattered, replaced by the crackling energy of a storm about to break. Loki's presence, both familiar and foreboding, promised nothing and everything, a paradox that was his very essence.

Still ensnared in Loki's unexpected embrace, his words lingering in the air between you, a whirlwind of emotions battled within you. Anger, betrayal, and a flicker of something dangerously akin to longing. His presence, his closeness, was overwhelming, yet you found the clarity to make a choice. You would play his game, match his deceit with your own cunning, even as thoughts of vengeance danced just beneath the surface of your composed exterior.

Turning your head to face him, you allowed the moment to stretch, to teeter on the edge of something neither of you could fully grasp. Your lips hovered so close to his, the heat of his breath mingling with yours, a tantalizing promise of what could be. "Have you now, my love?" The words slipped from your lips, laced with a venom sweetened by the honeyed guise of affection. It was a challenge, a provocation, delivered with the precision of one who knew just how to stir the god of mischief.

Loki responded not with words, but with action. He hummed, a sound that vibrated with a multitude of unspoken thoughts and desires, before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. It was a bold move, one that sought to bridge centuries of separation and silence with the intimacy of a moment. The kiss was a fusion of past and present, a clash of wills and desires, as complex and enigmatic as Loki himself.

Yet, as his lips moved against yours, a part of you recoiled, a reminder of the chasm that lay between what was and what could never be. With a resolve as cold and sharp as a blade, your hand found its way into the silk of his dark locks. You allowed yourself a brief second, a heartbeat, to feel the warmth of him, to breathe in the scent that was undeniably Loki, before your fingers curled into a fist, gripping tightly.

With a swift, decisive motion, you pulled him away, breaking the kiss, severing the illusion of reconciliation and intimacy. "I don't believe you for a second," you hissed, the words dark and laden with all the unspoken truths and lies that had accumulated over the years. It was a declaration of war as much as it was a rejection, a line drawn in the sand that marked the boundary between past affections and present distrust.

Loki, taken aback by the suddenness of your rejection, the intensity of your grip, could only stare, the mask of charm and seduction slipping to reveal a glimpse of the genuine surprise and, perhaps, a flicker of a bruised ego beneath his mask. The god of mischief, so accustomed to being the orchestrator of deceit, found himself momentarily at a loss, caught in the web of his own making. The air between you crackled with tension, charged with the electricity of a storm on the horizon. In that moment, with the remnants of the kiss still lingering like a phantom touch upon your lips, the complexity of your relationship with Loki was laid bare. It was a tapestry woven with threads of love and hatred, betrayal and longing, each stitch a testament to the turbulent history you shared.

Your defiance, your refusal to succumb to the seduction of a momentary weakness, set the stage for what was to come. It was a declaration that you were no longer the deity who had fled, who had sought refuge in the shadows of anonymity. You were a force to be reckoned with, a player in the game of gods, and Loki would do well to remember that.

Loki's response to your defiance was as swift as it was unpredictable. His initial surprise at your resistance melted away into that all-too-familiar grin, a mischievous curve of his lips that had always heralded trouble. The atmosphere shifted palpably, charged with a tension that was as much about power as it was about the unresolved history simmering between you. He advanced, the godly aura that clung to him making the air around you thrum with energy. His approach was deliberate, each step calculated to intimidate and enthrall in equal measure. You found yourself retreating until the solid form of the front desk halted your escape, the mundane reality of your shop a stark contrast to the unfolding drama.

Loki's fingers, cool and assertive, found the hem of your clothes, tugging with a playful yet disapproving frown. "I must confess, I find myself at odds with your choice of attire," he remarked, his voice a low purr that vibrated with an undercurrent of something darker. "These... mundane garments do not suit you. I miss the dresses of old, the ones that whispered secrets against your skin, the ones I could remove with but a thought." His words were a deliberate provocation, designed to unnerve and reminisce a past intimacy that had once been.

Before you could muster a retort or push him away, he lifted you with an ease that spoke of his godly strength, sitting you atop the counter with a possessive certainty. The action was bold, an invasion of personal space that he seemed to relish, watching for your reaction, gauging how far he could push before you snapped. His behavior, this blend of familiarity and threat, placed you at a crossroads. Part of you, the part hardened by centuries of hiding and surviving, screamed for caution, for you to summon your powers and push him away, to reinforce the boundaries he so blatantly disregarded. Yet, another part, perhaps the part that had once known him more intimately, that remembered the complexity of his character, urged you to wait, to use this proximity to your advantage.

The realization dawned on you then, amid the tension and the charged air, that Loki's tactics had shifted because he needed something from you. His words, his actions, were part of a larger game, one that involved merely his goal, and by extension, you. It was a game of manipulation, of old affections twisted into new strategies, but it was also a game you could play.

"So, you miss the past," you found yourself saying, voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within you. Your eyes locked with his, a challenge laid bare. "But the past is a realm even you cannot return to, Loki. We are not who we once were, and desires... desires can be as fleeting as they are dangerous." It was a gamble, invoking both your shared history and the undeniable tension of the present. You sought to remind him that you were not the same deity he had once known, that you had grown and changed, just as he had. In this dance of words and wills, you were not just the prey he might have assumed you to be; you were a player in your own right, with your own cards yet to be revealed.

The next move was his, and the air between you crackled with the anticipation of it.

Loki's gaze, a maelstrom of green, held yours with an intensity that bordered on the palpable, each flicker of emotion a testament to the centuries that had shaped him. His response, when it came, was threaded with the weight of ages and the depth of a god's desires.

"My yearning for you," he began, his voice a low thrum that seemed to echo with the gravitas of eons passed, "has never been of the fleeting kind. It is as enduring as the stars that light our skies, as unyielding as the fabric of reality itself. To suggest otherwise is to misunderstand the very nature of my being."

With these words, he sank to his knees before you, an act so filled with symbolic surrender and yet charged with an undercurrent of strategy. In this position, Loki, the god of mischief, the architect of chaos, positioned himself in a posture of fealty—or so it seemed. Yet, you knew better than to take the gesture at face value. Loki was many things, but straightforward was not one of them. Every action, every word, was laced with layers of meaning, designed to manipulate and coax the desired response from those he engaged with.

His move was bold, a calculated risk meant to disarm and perhaps to remind you of the dynamics that had once defined your interactions. It was an acknowledgment of your power, your importance in this intricate game he was playing. Yet, it was also unmistakably a ploy, a way to close the distance between you, to weave a narrative of shared history and unresolved tension.

The air around you seemed charged, thick with the history and the palpable tension of the moment. Loki, on his knees, looking up at you with an intensity that spoke of genuine desire mixed with the ever-present calculation, presented a picture of vulnerability. Yet, you were not so easily swayed. You knew the depths of his cunning, the lengths he would go to achieve his ends. His admission, cloaked in the grandiosity of his age and station, left you with a choice. To engage, to allow yourself to be drawn back into the orbit of his world, his plans, or to hold firm, to remember the reasons for your distance, for the life you had chosen away from the machinations of gods and their games.

The moment stretched, a tableau of tension and possibility, as you weighed your response, acutely aware of the stakes, of the game that was afoot, and of Loki, who knelt before you, a god cloaked in the guise of a supplicant, yet undeniably dangerous, undeniably compelling.

As Loki knelt before you, the atmosphere thick with tension and unspoken words, you made a decision. Lifting your leg, the black of your heeled shoes catching the light and glinting ominously, you pushed against his shoulder. It was a gesture meant to distance, to assert your autonomy against his sudden show of vulnerability or manipulation—whichever it truly was. Your voice, when it came, was laced with a mixture of resolve and undeniable truth, a reflection of the complex dance that had always defined your interactions.

"Your desire for me," you began, your words deliberate, "could never hope to keep pace with your lust for your myriad schemes and machinations, my love." The term of endearment, spoken so, carried a weight of irony, a nod to the past entanglements and the understanding that, for Loki, the pursuit of his goals often overshadowed everything else.

Yet, instead of acquiescing to the push, of allowing himself to be dismissed so easily, Loki's reaction was to tighten his grasp on the situation—quite literally. His hands, those instruments of mischief and manipulation, found your leg, his touch bold as he held you in place. Then, with an audacity that was quintessentially Loki, he pressed his lips against your calf in a kiss that was as shocking as it was calculated. It was an act of defiance, a refusal to be pushed away, and a statement of his intent all at once.

This gesture, so intimate and yet so brazen, served multiple purposes. It was a challenge to your autonomy, a test of your boundaries, and an undeniable declaration of his continued interest. Yet, it was also unmistakably Loki—crossing lines, blurring boundaries, and always, always pushing for more than what was offered. The action left you momentarily stunned, grappling with the rush of emotions it elicited. Anger, irritation, an unwelcome surge of something more confusing, all mingled together. It was a reminder of the power he wielded, not just through his magic, but through his very presence, his ability to unnerve and to provoke.

In that moment, the complexity of your relationship with Loki was laid bare once more. It was a tangled web of attraction and repulsion, of history and the potential for future conflicts. His refusal to be dismissed, to be pushed aside, was both infuriating and intriguing. It was Loki in all his complexity, challenging you to respond, to engage, to once again become entangled in the endless cycle of push and pull that had always defined you.

The next move was yours to make, and the shop, once a place of mundane tranquility, had become a battleground of wills, a stage upon which the next act of your shared story would unfold. With a flick of your fingers, reality within the confines of your shop twisted and shifted, unfurling like the petals of a flower under the first light of dawn. The mundane guise that had cloaked the truth from prying eyes dissolved, revealing the hidden splendor that no ordinary human could perceive. The illusion you had meticulously maintained for years now peeled away, and the floor beneath your feet transformed, paths of gold unfurling like rivers through the space. Artifacts, their origins as ancient and varied as the stars themselves, now adorned the walls—each piece a testament to histories untold and powers unimaginable.

But the transformation did not stop with the shop. It enveloped you as well, the very essence of your being responding to the unspoken command. The simple, mundane dress that had draped your form vanished, replaced by attire that echoed Loki's wistful remembrance. What materialized was reminiscent of your homeland's attire, designed for the relentless heat and the unyielding brightness of your realm. It was barely more than a tunic, the silk woven in patterns that spoke of ancient craftsmanship and royal decree, clinging to your form in a way that left little to the imagination. The hem flirted with the very brink of decency, the rump of your body barely shielded by the delicate fabric, a bold declaration of your heritage and status.

In this transformation, you reclaimed a fragment of your past self, the visage you had donned before you sought refuge and anonymity amongst the mortals of Earth. The change was not merely physical but symbolic, a shedding of the facade you had adopted to navigate the complexities of a world not your own. Standing there, in the true appearance of your being, you confronted Loki not as the unassuming shopkeeper he had encountered moments before, but as the goddess you truly were—powerful, formidable, and undeniably yourself. You stood before him not as an adversary to be underestimated, but as an equal, a being of immense power and depth, whose true nature was as complex and as potent as his own.

The shop, now a reflection of truths long concealed, served as the perfect backdrop for the unfolding confrontation. The artifacts that lined the walls, each bearing witness to the ages and the stories they contained, stood as silent sentinels to the encounter between two beings who transcended the mundane, whose histories were intertwined with the very fabric of the cosmos.

In this moment, the illusion shattered, the truth laid bare, you awaited Loki's response, the air thick with anticipation and the weight of unspoken challenges. The game, it seemed, had shifted, and the rules were being rewritten with each passing second. As the golden light settled and the true form of your shop shimmered into existence around you, Loki's initial reaction was a momentary flicker of surprise that quickly morphed into an appreciative smirk. His gaze swept over the transformed space, taking in the ancient artifacts and the streams of gold that ran like rivers across the floor. But it was the change in you that held his attention captive. The way the silk of your tunic clung to your form, the bold declaration of your divine heritage—it was as if he was seeing you for the first time all over again.

Loki breathed, his voice a blend of admiration and something darker, more primal. "This," Loki's voice wove through the air with an echo of ancient power, "is the true essence of you that lingers in my memory.” His eyes, alight with a mischievous and predatory gleam, never left your form as he slowly circled you, taking in every detail. "Hiding in plain sight, were we?" he mused, his tone teasing yet laced with an edge that hinted at the complexity of your shared past.

Despite the tension crackling in the air between you, you stood your ground, your posture radiating confidence and power. "And what of it, Loki?" you countered, your voice steady and imbued with strength. "Did you expect to find me cowering? Diminished?"

Loki's circling came to a halt, and he faced you, the distance between you charged with an electric anticipation. "On the contrary," he replied, his voice soft yet carrying an undeniable weight, as his fingers went forward, pulling at one of the strings keeping your body hidden from his gaze. "I've always known your strength, your... resilience. It's what makes this game so exhilarating."

The word 'game' hung between you, a reminder of the countless layers and facades both of you had navigated over the eons. This moment, however, stripped away those layers, revealing the raw essence beneath. It was a confrontation, yes, but also a recognition of the profound connection that had always existed between you—a connection fraught with complexity and contradictions.

"Are you certain you wish to engage in another game, Loki?" Your voice, steady and imbued with a quiet power, cut through the charged silence, even as you felt him unbuckle your shoes, his fingers deftly and slowly slipping them from your feet. "I seem to recall your rather... unfortunate defeat last time." The words hung in the air, a challenge and a reminder of past encounters where the balance of power had shifted, leaving Loki on the losing end.

Loki's hands stilled momentarily as he lifted his gaze to yours, a cunning glint sparkling within those deep green eyes. "Ah, but my dear, to dwell on a solitary defeat is to overlook the endless expanse of the game," he mused with a sly, almost serpentine smile. "The allure for me lies not in the victory or the loss, but in the exquisite complexity of the play itself. The interplay of strategy, the artful dance of minds. And," his voice dropped, a velvet caress against the tension hanging in the air, "the delicious possibility of reversing fortunes, which, I assure you, is a prospect I find most... exhilarating."

As he spoke, his fingers slid underneath your heel, leading your leg to rest over his shoulder with a care and precision that contradicted the levity in his voice. Loki laid another feathery touch to your thighs, gripping them tighter as he wedged his face between them, while you held fast to the edge of the counter. You stifled a moan when his tongue traced over the seam of your core.

There was no need to harbor affection for the man to appreciate the artistry his mouth provided. His tongue grazed the surface of your clit and you felt a tremor coursing through your very bones. He delved deeper, his taste encompassing the entirety of your core. As he did, your legs seemed to tighten inadvertently around him, though it posed no barrier to his indulgence. Your cunt clenched and you were swept away as his fingers dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, pulling you closer onto his awaiting tongue. The surge of familiar emotions within you was overpowering, far too intense for your unprepared body. Your head fell back with a moan as you gave yourself to him in your entirety and Loki groaned, his tongue honing in on your bud as he chased your orgasm. He refused to relent until the heat had filled you whole, filled your soul. You writhed underneath him, hips helplessly buckling. Loki chuckled, a melodic blend of amusement and triumph, resonating with an undercurrent of sly cunning.

“That’s it, darling,” he coaxed as a surge of desire blossomed within you, enough to part your lips into a broken cry. His dark hair peeked between your fingers and his tongue snuck out to lick his lips while his gaze was set on you above him. His hand wandered to your tunic and yanked it away. His thumb grazed your nipple when he returned his mouth to your center, two of his fingers slowly dipping into your glistening heat.

“Loki,” you whimpered, tightening the hold on his hair—he matched your movements, arm securing you to him so forcefully no might on Earth and beyond could have parted you from his lips. He curled his fingers, rubbing that special spot inside of you and your stomach twitched. You felt him grin against your heat, teeth gracing over your sensitive bud, as a tremor ran through your body.

“My tempest darling,” he sighed when he finally pulled his fingers from you, leaving behind such an agonizing feeling of emptiness. You were about to retaliate, when he stood, bringing your body this his, hand running along the length of your thigh before he hoisted it against his hip. “Even if doubt shadows your heart, my dear, believe me, the absence of your taste on my tongue has been an ache most persistent,” Loki declared, his voice weaving together assurance and playful sincerity. One of his hands made quick work of undoing the dress pants of the black suit he was clad in, the other clutching your thigh close—so terribly tight you were certain even the skin of gods could be bruised by his hungry fingers. His lips found yours, softly at first, though through the looming desire burning within, Loki’s control appeared to stray when you bit into his lip, drawing blood. A groan tore from his throat, eyes darkening as he looked down at you, refusing to part from your gaze even as he entered you. Your mouth fell open against his, a silent moan slipping from your lips, his forehead dropping onto yours. He moved then, pulling out barely before he pushed back in so deeply it shook you. Loki had always been the embodiment of wickedness wrapped in the guise of charm; an enigma whose very presence stirred a vicious blend of temptation and sin, drawing all who encounter him into a dance with the devilishly divine.

“How I’ve missed you,” he whispered against the heated skin of your neck, traveling downward to softly kiss along your bared collarbones. His voice was a divinity, dark and rich and soaked with the sweetest of all sins. The emerald green within his eyes reflected the gold surrounding you. One of your hands cradled the back of his neck, fingers catching loose strands of raven hair that had grown so long in the centuries you hadn’t laid your sights on him. Loki held your thigh in a fierce grip, fingers digging further into your flesh with every stroke of his throbbing cock with your heat.

“You swore to kill me, my love,” you gasped as he delivered another harsh thrust, your head fell forward against his shoulder a searing pleasure built within you.

As his teeth grazed the delicate skin of your neck, savoring the salty essence of your being, Loki’s hand traveled from the curve of your thigh, securing you firmly against him at your waist, moving you against him in a refined rhythm. Against the warmth of your skin, he murmured, “To kill you, my little deity, would be akin to consigning a part of my own soul into the abyss.”

A gasp caught in your throat as he thrust into you deeper than before and you collapsed against him, coming with a cry of relief. He continued thrusting into you, arm keeping you secured against him as though you were about to vanish as you had done all those years ago. He lifted your chin, his mouth capturing yours when you felt him jerk inside of you. You felt his warmth spilling into you, his shameless groans filling your ears as he emptied himself within you. Breath mixing with his, you stayed there for a moment—in which the world seemed to narrow down to the space between the two of you, to the silent conversation spoken through glances and the slight tremors in your lungs.

Loki stole another kiss, then, as if breaking from a spell, his expression shifted, his early devotion to you giving way to a more serious, contemplative mien. “Business with you, my tempest darling, had always been a delight most exquisite,” Loki said, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that bordered on violence. “I trust you’re familiar with the tales of the Celestial Compass, aren’t you?” he continued, referring to an artifact of immense power and ancient origin, rumored to guide its holder to whatever they sought most in the universe. It was an object that you had kept hidden away, its location known only to you.

The mention of the compass sliced through the tension, a stark reminder of the stakes at play. Loki's presence in your shop, the transformation of your surroundings, the exchange of words—all were mere preludes to this moment.

"Why, Loki?" you asked, your voice a mix of curiosity and defiance as you fixed the tunic he had so carelessly pulled aside. "Why seek the compass now? What is it you desire so fervently to find?"

Loki's smile then was enigmatic, a mask that offered no clear answers. "Ah, but revealing one's desires so openly is a dangerous game, my dear. Let's just say... I seek something that has long eluded me." The ambiguity of his response left you wary, aware that Loki's desires were seldom straightforward and often entwined with greater schemes and hidden agendas. Yet, the acknowledgment of this quest, of his need for the compass, revealed a vulnerability in Loki—a crack in the armor he so carefully maintained.

As Loki awaited your response, the weight of centuries and the anticipation of what was to come hung heavily in the air. The next move was yours to make, in a game that was as much about uncovering truths as it was about concealing them. In response to his inquiry, your reply came not in words, but in the form of a serene smile, a silent echo of your shared past. With a casual flick of your fingers, you vanished into the ether, just as you had done countless centuries before, leaving Loki alone in the confines of what now appeared to be a decrepit shop. Its once vibrant essence faded, reflecting the sudden void your departure had created.

Loki, momentarily taken aback, quickly regained his composure. A laugh, rich with both amusement and a tinge of admiration, escaped him as he reached out to snatch a golden letter materializing out of thin air. The letter, simple yet profound in its message. The words, though brief, carried the weight of eons, a testament to the enduring dance between you two. Loki's gaze lingered on the golden script, a smirk playing on his lips, already plotting his next move in the timeless game between you.

“Farewell, my love.”

#loki series #loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki #loki laufeyson #loki smut #loki x y/n #loki x you

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domnamewoman · 7 months

Note

what would shang tsung, syzoth, smoke and rain be like with a gn!witch? who do spell with more natural things, like crystal, herbs, etc... imagine them being like "I found this little rock, maybe you'd like it" and their s/o picks it up like it's a goblin lol. I love your work, u are amazing 🌟

Characters: Rain, Shang Tsung, Reptile, Smoke

Warnings: Witch!GN!Reader

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

“Can you hand me the duck feathers?” You ask, reaching out your hand to Syzoth.

Syzoth picks up the feathers from the table and walks over to you, placing them in your hand.

“Thank you.” You grab the feathers and stir them into the brewing elixir.

“It amazes me that all these random ingredients can be mixed together to create magic,” Syzoth says in wonderment.

“It’s not so much the ingredients than it is the intention of the person mixing them.”

“Hmm, so the real power comes from you,” Syzoth contemplates as he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Yes, I guess in a way.” You nod, “But I can’t enchant someone without them being exposed to the potion in some way.”

“You seemed to do a pretty good job of enchanting me,” Syzoth mumbles into your cheek as he places a kiss there, “Making me fall for you.”

“You are so cheesy,” You grumble, loving every part of it.

“I think I might pass out…” Zeffeero pants as he hovers over the toilet.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” You apologize as you rub comforting circles on his back.

“Why”–heave–”Why would you even need a p-potion that induces vomiting?”

“It can be useful to demobilize an enemy during a fight,” You reason sympathetically.

“Except I’m not an enemy who's trying to fig-” Zeffeero gets cut off by more contents getting expelled from his stomach.

“I mean it is kind of your fault. Why would you drink a random liquid you haven’t seen before?”

Zeffeero turns his head to you and glares, “M-My fault? I was thirsty. Why was your potion in the refrigerator?”

“The ingredients had to be cold in order to fuse together properly,” You sigh as Zeffeero is hit with another bought of vomiting, “Okay, I should have labeled it. I’m sorry.”

“H-How long is it s-supposed to last?” Zeffeero pants out.

You cringe, “Two hours…”

“Two hours!?”

Shang Tsung stares at the potion you were brewing with repulsion. He leans over and takes a sniff before quickly covering his nose and holding back a gag.

“You know, I would be most delighted to teach you my sorcery. It is more sophisticated than creating vile concoctions like this.”

“Oh shush, there is more than one way to do magic, Shang. This is mine,” You say as you add five drops of toad’s blood to the cauldron.

“It’s tedious and ineffective in an emergency. You have to spend time brewing potions and then have someone consume it for it to work,” Shang Tsung argues.

“They don’t have to consume it, I can also put it in a bottle and throw it at them like a Molotov. Also, making potions isn’t tedious, I actually find it rather relaxing.”

“What could be relaxing about this horrid smell?”

You roll your eyes before turning to Shang Tsung and raising an eyebrow, “Well if your sorcery is so sophisticated, why don’t you zap away the smell?”

You and Shang Tsung stare at each other, your smile growing by the second. Shang Tsung pompously waves his hand before turning around and walking away.

“I thought so,” you chuckle as you turn back to your potion.

You’re standing in your spell room, organizing your crystals and taking stock of potion supplies when Tomas excitedly bursts through the door.

“Baby, I got you something,” Tomas sings as he walks up to you with his hands behind his back.

“What is it?” You excitedly inquire as you try to peek around him.

“Something almost as beautiful as you.”

“Show me already,” You impatiently demand.

“Ta-da!” Says Tomas as he brings his hands in front of him and extends his fingers to reveal a rainbow-colored crystal sitting in his palms.

“Oh my gosh, Tomas-”

“It’s pretty isn’t it? I knew you would lov-”

“No, it’s dangerous.” You snatch it out of his hand and jog to the front door, throwing it as far as you can away from the house. “That is a lifeforce-draining crystal.”

“I-I just thought it was a pretty rock… I’m sorry.”

You shake your head lovingly at Tomas as you comfortingly rub his arm, “I appreciate the thought, anyway. Just leave the crystal scavenging to me.”

#domnamewoman #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #shang tsung x reader #shang tsung #reptile x reader #syzoth x reader #syzoth #rain x reader #zeffeero x reader #zeffeero #smoke x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada #mk1 #mk #reaction #mortal kombat reaction #witch!reader

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devildomwriter · 1 year

Text

Demon Types

Here’s my extensive guide to demon types and their psychology and physiology

What type is your OC

Avian

Avian demons are categorized based on feather or other bird like attributes.

A common avian demon will have one or more pairs of feathered wings, in rarer cases they will have a feathered tail, feathered ears, a bird’s beak, or bird’s feet.

Avian demons tend to be on the prideful and showy side and normally share one or more personality characteristics with the bird they most resemble, the most common being a raven or crow.

They tend to have a lighter body weight and their wings are more fragile since the bones inside are hollow allowing a lighter body for flight.

Another contributor to a light body weight is they have stomachs smaller than most demons which leads to them becoming full easily and not being weighed down by food

More common magic abilities in avian types include voice mimicking, flexible necks, heightened navigation skills, and a good amount of speed thanks to light bodies and feathered wings

Avians have a difficult time maintaining their wings or feathers on their own and will usually require help.

Every so often they keep their wings out to allow old feathers to fall and if they have no patience for this will do it themselves or ask for assistance

Similarly to angels, avian demons mix a special brew that must be applied to their wings to keep them clean, healthy, and shiny as they don’t produce it naturally like wild birds would.

Avians tend to have a habit of surrounding themselves with jewelry or nicknacks and collecting things they find like shiny pebbles. They usually can’t ignore fallen change on the street or purchasing any jewelry they deem appealing to the eye.

For this reason many avians are either wild thieves or high class citizens for the sole purpose of obtaining what they desire as demons lack sufficient control of their impulses.

Typically avians have jobs in offices, fashion, design, high profile positions, and the STEM field.

Given that many avians were once angels or are renowned in the same way Lucifer is, they are stereotyped as a high class type of demon though the majority live in the wilds acting more like vultures than peacocks

Known Avians: Lucifer

Commonality: 1/10

Reptilian

Reptilians demons are categorized based on scales and other reptilian features.

A common reptilian demon will present a long scaled tail, forked tongue, and slit pupils but not always all three. They will always have hard armor-like scales, and very rarely have wings.

Reptilian demons tend to be more hostile to others until they trust you and come out of their shells, which could take a long time.

Reptilians are easy to distinguish medically, because of their cold-blood combined with scales. For the rare winters and freezes in the Devildom, this is a real issue and they need to prepare their homes to maximum heat, as they don’t do well in the cold and could fall into a coma-like hibernation until they’ve become warm again.

The myth of demons being creatures of the night has a lot to do with reptilian demons. The reptilian demons are usually sent as spies warriors to the human realm due to their thick armor-like scales. However in the human world where the sun shines they become more lethargic and relaxed as they absorb the sun’s energy in the day and are more active and awake at night, using the energy they stored.

Reptilian magic tends to be geared more towards offensive spells since they are common soldiers and the original demon species, aside from the draconian devil. They can use defensive magic but their thick scales are usually protection enough from major wounds.

Every so often reptiles will shed their scales and regrow more durable ones, even if the specific demon does not need them for battle. Demons who are used to combat and battle will shed theirs more often, the bodies natural response to any inflictions.

Reptilians usually gravitate towards more militant jobs or ones that don’t appear in public eye like working from home, or in a quiet office room.

Reptilians don’t tend to have a social class stereotype because of their commonality but many are proud to be reptilian types and see themselves as the originals.

Known Reptilians: Barbatos

Commonality: 10/10

Aquatic

Aquatic demons are categorized based on their adaptability to water and the usual appearance of gills and webbed finger or toes.

A common aquatic demon will have a long tail, usually with fins or slick scales that help them adapt to the water and move more gracefully through it. Very rarely do they have wings but sometimes with will have large fins that appear to be wings.

Like reptilians they are cold blooded and in times of rare cold on the surface, they prefer to retreat to the warmer oceans and lakes or a heated indoor pool.

Similarly to fish the aquatic demons have a air-bladder that allows them to control their buoyancy and maintain the depth they are in the water without expending too much of their energy swimming upwards and downwards.

Not all aquatic demons will have gills but most have lungs adaptable to air and to water. If they don’t have gills they will need to exercise often to maintain their naturally powerful lungs allowing them to hold their breath for extended amounts of time. Most aquatic types can hold their breath for hours on end, untrained lungs should still be able to hold their breath for close to an hour before it becomes painful.

A downside to living on the land includes increased chances of dry skin and dry eyes. They usually compensate by taking more baths and showers, living somewhere more humid, and using eye drops.

All aquatic babies are born with gills and do better a water-crib—a bath-like crib full of water specifically for aquatic type demons—these cribs allow them to breathe more easily after birth and slowly adapt to the air.

More common magic and non-magic abilities in aquatic demons are water adaptability, water manipulation, communication with sea animals, great speed and grace in water, smell great distances underwater, excellent marksmanship, clearer vision, and some even have the ability to change their sex.

Their jobs typically involve water in some way for example working at an aquarium, being a life guard, being part of the navy or cost guard, teaching swimming are aqua aerobics, etc.

Aquatic demons tend to be more easy going, happy-go-lucky, bubbly people but there are exceptions and some can be very stealthy, shy, and introverted. They enjoy surrounding themselves with reminders of the ocean, lost treasures, and things like beautiful petals and shells

Known Aquatics: Leviathan

Commonality: 5/10

Mammalian

Mammalian are warm-blooded demons that bare clear animalistic traits in their demon forms. These can include bovine markings, felines eyes, more natural body hair, cloven feet, barbed tongues and many more common distinguishing features. Mammalian are very rarely winged, and usually have tails related to their animal. Most mammalians have cow, bull, sheep, goat, or lion features. The animal they are related to usually has a lot to do with personality, for examples the lions tend to be more proud and aggressive, the bovine are easily angered and slothful, the goats like to but heads with others and will eat just about anything, the felines tend to be loners and the canines tend to have large friend groups, etc.

Mammalians are usually heavier and physically stronger than they appear but their magic is usually weaker than the average demon as compensation.

Common magical abilities will also vary depending on the animal they relate to but usually include night-vision, increased senses, increased strength, heightened awareness of their surroundings, energy absorption, high adaptability and stealth, and silver tongues.

Mammalian demons have a tendency to shed and must brush their hair and tails often. They grow body hair more quickly and need to shave more often too, while some don’t mind this others are annoyed enough to seek out medication it magical alternatives to laser hair removal. Some however take great pride in their body hair and female/non-binary mammalian demons tend to be more attracted to those with beards or more hair.

They have a harder time resisting temptation than most, this reason isn’t fully known, and they are typically outgoing and well known people, even the quiet ones have a large presence or air of mystery surrounding them.

Mammalians find fluffy pillows, clothes, and blankets to be very comforting. They prefer meaty foods and milk-based drinks although some stick to a more herbivore diet (based on their animal) however this is exceedingly rare as veganism/vegetarianism is almost unheard of for demons.

Mammalians tend to have more athletic, therapeutic, salesmanship or nature-based jobs including professional athletes, physical trainers, job recruiters, hosts, therapists, gardeners, farmers, etc.

Known Mammalians: Belphegor

Commonality: 4/10

Insectoid

Insectoid demons are distinguishable by their insect or arachnid features. Most will have more than one pair of eyes, bug-related wings, a scorpion tail, or piercers in their demon form.

Insectoid females tend to be larger than regular females and are more brazen and domineering. The males tend to be more quiet, aloof, and isolated.

Insectoids have larger appetites than most, can carry things much heavier than themselves, work best in groups, and tend to copy each other (almost like a hive-mind)

They are much sturdier than most demons but have a very fast metabolism as a means to help them fly more easily, so they can often be seen eating and you’d be hard pressed to find a youthful overweight insectoid.

Insectoids can also shed their exoskeletons and scales, which appears rather frightening but doesn’t cause them any harm and helps them in many ways. They become more durable, lose any trace of scars, and become more appealing too.

Insectoid demons usually have poison that can cause pain, immobility, or attraction. They use it as they see fit, but there are rules governing the usage and legality of some things their poison allows them to do.

Insectoids may have other amazing natural abilities like detecting a change in air current, incredibly high jumps, superior strength, hypermobility, superior durability and agility, silk-production, poison production, mobile heads, may have extra stomachs.

Magical abilities that insectoids may possess are mind-control, hormonal manipulation, invisibility, chemical manipulation, telepathy, magic tunneling (creation of tunnels using magic), and other earth-related abilities.

Insectoid males tend to gravitate towards laborious work, athletic careers, and somewhere they can be part of a large team, while females tend to seek jobs of power and strive to make their way up the ranks in the political and working world.

Insectoids tend to be clingier than most, like to observe others closely, are easily manipulated by trends, are very trusting, and a little aloof. For females almost the opposite can be said. These personalities also depend on the insect they represent but generally gender plays the largest roll and changes the way they think, however therapy can work for those who do like being naturally aloof or domineering. It should be noted that this is not always the case.

Insectoids are usually generalized as hard working and/or manipulative people and do very well in Devildom society.

Known Insectoids: Beelzebub

Commonality: 7/10

Draconian

Draconian demons will either have scaled dragon-like wings, or a dragon-tail. Those without these features may be categorized based on natural fire magic combined with cold-blood.

Draconian types have a very high tolerance to heat and fire, more so than the average demon. They have very strong wings and are highly capable fliers.

Unlike reptiles who absorb energy from sunlight to preserve, Draconians are completely photosynthetic and not only absorb energy for immoderate use and preservation, but heal faster, have their fire abilities fueled, and become more powerful in all aspects.

Like reptilian demons they usually just preserve this power for later, but are the most dependable fighters anywhere the sun shines as they don’t become relaxed and lethargic in the sunlight but much more aware.

Every year or after substantial damage is done to the body, Draconians will shed their scales and regrow nicer and sturdier scales to replace them.

Draconians tend to be very prideful since they are the same type as the royal bloodline—the original Draconians.

Like the beasts they’re named after, Draconian expect respect and adoration. They enjoy surrounding themselves with Golden and shiny things, gems, jewelry, expensive things and anything that enhances their charm and sense of authority.

Draconian’s are naturally more proficient in fire magic and typically do poorest with water magic though they’re able to become skilled in it too. Other magic they excel in are dark magic, curses, hexes, and voodoo, detection magic, summoning magic, mental manipulation, and seduction.

While their fire magic is exceedingly powerful, it will dull in colder temperatures.

Their natural abilities include heightened senses, accelerated healing, limb regrowth, powerful jumps, and fire resistance.

Unlike other cold blooded demons, the fire magic inside them keeps them warm enough to endure blizzards and freezes although they still feel the affects.

Draconian demons have a few quirky habits like slowly blinking, tilting their heads, flicking their tongues, hissing and lots of fidgeting.

Draconian types are generalized as upper class demons and haughty. They usually aim for high ranking jobs and political positions although due to their commonality, they can be found in every career although they prefer to avoid work they feel is demeaning or too demanding of them.

Known Draconians: Diavolo, Asmodeus, Mammon

Commonality: 9/10

Elemental

Elemental demons are very rare and possesses elemental features like rocky skin, twig horns, thorny tails, vine hair, etc.

Elemental demons are methodical and very in tune with their surroundings, allowing them to naturally adapt to social situations and blend in to a crowd.

Elemental demons’ personalities are reflected in their demon forms. A demon with a hostile personality may possesses rock like features or thorny tails, those with more wooden or nature related features are usually free spirited and down to earth, someone with fiery features are usually bold and outgoing, someone with ice features may be more introverted, etc.

Elementals are very rare and no two are exactly alike so not much can be determined about their physiology though it’s been shown they are proficient in the element reflected in their features.

Demons with earthen features will be proficient in earth magic, gravitational magic, strength enhancement, durability, defensive magic etc.

Demons with nature features will be more proficient in nature magic, growth and healing magic, energy magic, etc.

Demons with fire features will be proficient in fire magic, light magic, energy magic, offensive magic, etc.

Demons with water/ice features will be proficient in ice and water magic, blood magic, voodoo, positions, and empath magic.

Demons with shadow features will will be more proficient in dark magic, shadow magic, stealth magic, invisibility, etc.

Depending on their body they may shed leaves, replace and regrow bark and rocks, their fire may dim in cold months, their water may freeze in the cold, etc.

Elemental demons tend to gravitate towards more social and service related jobs. Although often seen as a powerful position, political positions are also a frequent option since they are meant to serve the public. Medical jobs are also a common choice.

Known Elementals: Satan

Commonality: .5/10

Deviant

A deviant demon has a form that does not fit into any specific category. Deviant types are extremely rare and named after such. These demons may have more or less than two horns, unusually physical abnormalities, and an undetermined representative animal. They are usually very powerful magic users and often appear as hybrids of known types.

Due to their rarity not much can be said about them other than they usually cause a stir when spotted and become famous more quickly due to their unique appearances and abilities.

Known Deviants: none

Commonality: (.02/10)

Lucifer

Lucifer is of the avian body type. He has four large black wings that are powerful enough to create gusts of wind and make him a very capable flier though he does not often use them to fly great distances.

Mammon

Mammon is of the draconian body type. Like other draconian demons he is resistant to fire and privy to fire magic. He is very energetic and due to lack of sunlight and crashes after using his energy instead of constantly being able to absorb more.

Leviathan

Leviathan may seem reptilian but he is of the aquatic type. Possessing defining gills and slick scales and a long tail that help him swim swiftly in the water he is the ultimate aquatic demon with extremely powerful water magic and command over sea life. His horns resemble coral that enable more stealth in the oceans.

Satan

Satan is of the elemental type. His tail relates to minerals and thorns as it is spiked and rock-hard. He is more capable of wielding fire rather than his body element of earth. This makes him somewhat of a deviant type.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus may have a scorpion as his representative but he bares stronger resemblance and characteristics of a draconian demon though this can be debated. Asmodeus has plentiful energy and four scaly wings which place him into this category. As someone who absorbs sunlight he does not easily tan or relax in it.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub is a fine example of an insectoid demon. His wings resemble of fly's wings but despite appearances they are not delicate and make him an incredibly fast flier, possibly the fastest of them. His wing scales sometimes shed and are replaced by stronger ones.

Belphegor

Belphegor is of the mammalian body type. He has a prickly cow tail which is very strong and fast, making it a powerful weapon to him. As a mammalian his magic is a little weaker but he is the strongest of the mammalian demons.

Barbatos

Barbatos is of the reptilian species. His bony horns represent the lost species of serpents like the one who tempted Eve. Despite being shaped like wings they by no means allow flight capabilities. His tail is forked and scaly and allows him to hang by it or easily tear things down with it. The scales are much smoother than the average reptilian which is useful for swimming. Barbatos was once considered a deviant type which is fitting for his magic and distinct characteristics but he was later evaluated as reptilian.

Diavolo

Diavolo is of the draconian body type just as all the proceeding kings were. The draconian type is held in high regard due to being a signature trait of the royal family. Diavolo has four large wings connected at the back and sharp talons which he covers with golden sheaths to prevent accidental harm and damage to his surroundings. He is very energetic and Fire is his strongest elemental magic type. Due to his status he can freely visit the human world and make use of his absorption abilities

#obey me headcanons #obey me barbatos #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demons #obey me shall we date

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rainbowbarnacle · 1 month

Note

Please make a tea post so I can save it especially the pineapple ice cubes I need more info

Oh, like, different teas I like to make? Okay! :D

🍍Pineapple Tea🍍

The way I do it is really simple:

Buy a giant jug of already-made tea (I like gold peak!)

Buy a carton of pineapple juice

Freeze the juice into cubes, pour a little of it in the tea for extra flavor

And that's it. That's aaaall you gotta do.

There's all kindsa ways you can dress it up, but nine times out of ten I just do this and drink it by the gallon when it's hot out.

If you wanna get fancy with it, feel free to cold brew your own black (or green) tea, add actual hunks of pineapple fruit in there, add some orange juice, add some honey, add some coconut milk or sweetened condensed milk, whatever sounds good! (Also, pairing pineapple tea with coconut cookies? SO GOOD.) Put mint in the pineapple cubes if you like mint! Add a bit of boiled ginger root or some brown sugar and cinnamon for a little kick! Heck, last summer I used blue peaflower star-shaped ice cubes just because they were pretty.

(Peaflower petals don't taste like much, but they make a GORGEOUS blue, and if you put something acidic in there like lemon juice IT TURNS PINK. :D)

🍓Strawberry Tea🍓

I find this stuff sort of difficult to find where I live, so often I go the same route as the pineapple tea: grab a jug of black tea, grab a jug of strawberry juice, (ocean spray has a really nice cran-strawberry one I like) freeze the juice, mix, and enjoy. Super simple.

If I can't find strawberry juice, I dice some strawberries up and put it in a jar with some water and a bit of sugar for a few hours, then add *that* to the tea. (heck, it's really nice all by itself!)

What goes with strawberry? ANY DANG THING YOU WANT. I am particularly fond of lychee. Jasmine tea and rose petals pair really well with it too. Again, if you like mint, it's *really* nice with strawberry. And you know how if you put black pepper on strawberries they taste even strawberrier? (If you haven't tried this, go do it, it's magic.) Same goes with the tea, add some peppercorns or a teeny bit of chili powder or some ginger.

If you wanna drink it hot or cold brew a batch of your own, here are some brands that are also nice:

1. Strawberry Sensation

2. Adagio Strawberry Tea (this is also where I got the peaflower petals)

3. Any of Lupicia's Strawberry Teas they are HEAVENLY

🍏Apple Tea🍏

As with the pineapple and strawberry teas, it's totally fine to just go find some ready-made tea and mix it with some apple cider or apple juice for tasty low spoons fun. If you drink it iced, a bit of sugar and lemon juice brings out the apple flavor nicely!

I prefer drinking this stuff hot though. You know that Fall Drink post that was floating around? IF YOU HAVEN'T YET, TRY IT, IT'S AWESOME.

☕Chai Tea☕

So here's the thing about chai for me personally: I don't tend to drink it iced or sugary, but if you do like it iced and sugary, there are a couple of really nice chai tea concentrates:

Oregon Chai Latte

Tazo's Chai Latte (Forget the "skinny" nonsense, I just wanted to include an option with no milk so you can add whatever you want to it)

Pacific Chai isn't concentrated, but you can use it to make hot or iced chai and it's really lovely, not too sweet and super easy to work with. As for dressing up chai, I don't tend to! There's already so much going on with all the flavors, I just drink it as-is most days. Play with milk-to-tea ratios or sugar amounts all you like, figure out what's your jam.

I do know that mixing chai and coffee together (or chai and chocolate together) is guaranteed to make a feeling groovy kind of morning, at least if you have two thumbs and you're me. Iiii think that's all the tea blather I can think of for right now. Thank you for asking, anon, it was fun! Anybody reading this, feel free to add your own favorite things to do with tea. :D

#domestic blifs #this has been tea blather with rainbowbarnacle #thank you for attending my TEA-d talk

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hollowdeath · 2 months

Note

Okay I was thinking of writing this myself but like Harry and his crush (who's a talented Potions witch) brews up an aphrodisiac potion into the form of a vapor (inhaled through like an atomizer) and she wants to test it with her best friend (crush lmao) Harry. Idea is a WIP but if you could use it for a smut piece I wouldn't complain 🫣🫣 LOVE YOUR WORK OMFG

Thank you loveee! ❤️

AAAAA thank you for requesting this!!! ive been wanting to write something like this for a while so you gave me the perfect excuse to try it out :D you're the best!

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry have been working on a project involving amortentia, the most powerful love potion to exist, and when harry tests your device the night before it's due, he has some rather intense side effects.

cw: smut!!! dom!harry, fingering, penetration, breeding

word count: 6k

you and harry had spent the entire semester working together on a project that challenged you to create a new form of an old potion. rather than settling for the obvious ideas like turning felix felicis into gummy candies, you and harry had decided to try something a bit more complex.

you knew right away you wanted to work with amortentia more closely, as you had always been fascinated by the potion and its powerful properties, and harry was more than willing to let you take the reins of the project. he gave insight when he could, and spent a fair amount of time helping you figure out the more complicated steps of the process, but he honestly just loved sitting back and watching you work your magic. literally.

you were by far the most knowledgeable student when it came to potions, and undoubtedly one of the smartest witches harry had ever met. he considered himself lucky that you two had already formed a friendship prior to taking potions together, allowing him to pair up with the most sought after partner in the entire class. more than just your knowledge and skill, harry was just excited to be your partner so he could know you better and see how your mind works.

you were excited to work with harry as well, but not to collaborate on potions and fiddle with mechanics you could never understand. you had looked forward to sitting close to him, reading from the same books, talking for hours, and watching his eyes intently focus as he prepared the ingredients for you. of course you two were friends more than anything, and you never considered yourself one of those girls who would fawn over harry for doing absolutely nothing, but working with him so intimately for the entire semester really made you see him differently. he was funny, he was smart, he remembered every little thing about you, and he always brought you snacks when you were working together. it didn't help that you found him absolutely adorable in big sweaters with messy hair, or felt your heart race when he looked at you from over his glasses, or couldn't keep your eyes off his hands when he was helping you put together your atomizer.

speaking of, your project had actually turned out extremely well for the little experience either of you had in engineering such a device. it was a small, handheld diffuser that transformed liquid amortentia, as well as a mix of other potent aphrodisiacs, into a vapor that could be inhaled for the full effect. harry had actually been the one to suggest the idea, trying to figure out a better way to ingest the mixture while still altering its state. you thought it was brilliant, and were surprised at how smooth the process turned out to be.

however, the presentation for the project was tomorrow morning, and you were still fiddling with a few of the mechanics to get it to work just right. it was hard to know when it was fully finished since testing the product wasn't exactly practical, as the effects would have anyone distracted and unable to focus within seconds of inhaling it. you were a bit frustrated sitting alone at your table in the potions lab, a single light above you as the sun had long since set and night took over. your head was in your hands, staring at the atomizer in front of you, wondering if you should just take the chance and test it since you were alone in the classroom.

just as you were convincing yourself, you heard the door creak open to your right, causing you to jump in your seat. you couldn't make out who was there ar first as your eyes were still adjusting to the dark room around you. you hadn't expected anyone to come in anyway, mostly because it was past curfew and, frankly, who would want to spend their time in the potions lab on a sunday evening?

but, as the figure walked closer to you, you noticed it was harry dressed in pajama pants and a sweatshirt with his slippers scraping across the wooden floors. "harry," you breathed a sigh of relief, your hand resting on your chest. "you scared the piss out of me." you say with a laugh.

harry chuckles, and you notice he's carrying his invisibility robe in one hand, half of his arm disappearing beneath it. "sorry, figured there'd be no one in here," he says with a sleepy voice, setting the robe over his own chair, making it disappear as well.

you sigh, setting your head back in your hands and leaning your elbows on the table. "it's okay, i probably shouldn't be here anyways. this thing has me seeing red, and not in a good way." you complain. harry laughs again, making his way next to you and under the light. your stomach drops at how soft he looks, his hair messy, cheeks flushed, deep voice quietly chuckling as he leans on the table beside you.

"yeah, well, i couldn't sleep knowing it wasn't perfect as well," harry tells you, his eyes fixated on the device. "not that slughorn would notice either way, but…" he trails off, making you crack a smile and chuckle as well.

harry looks down at you, his glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose. "i just know how much it means to you." he says.

you feel yourself blushing and quickly begin changing the subject. "w-well, i think i've got it most of the way there, it's just, um…" you say nervously, picking up the cylindrical vaporizer and examining it in your hands once again.

"just…?" harry provokes.

you let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head as you pass the device back and forth between your hands. "just…that, um, it still needs to be tested, i guess, to see the full effects, y'know?" you try to explain without stumbling over your thoughts.

harry understands what you mean and nods his head slowly. "oh, right…" he says a bit nervously as well, pushing himself off the table to stand up straight and clear his throat.

an awkward silence hangs in the air for a moment as you continue to roll the vaporizer between your fingers. "yeah…" you trail off once again.

harry nervously chuckles, breaking the silence and making you laugh at the sudden tension. "well, then, hand it over i guess." harry casually requests, holding his hand out to you.

you look up at harry in confusion, your eyebrows pinched together as you examine his lighthearted expression. "harry," you try to find your words, feeling yourself still blushing under his gaze. "are you mad? you can't just test this out randomly." you try to explain to him.

harry shakes his head, his own eyebrows pinching together as he lets out an amused laugh. "why not? it can't be that strong," he shrugs.

you give harry another incredulous look, utterly confused at his nonchalant attitude. "are you kidding? this potion is composed of some of the most potent aphrodisiacs in the world, and inhaling them should only intensify the effects…theoretically," you add the last part in a hopeful tone, turning your attention back to the device in your hands.

harry just extends his hand out further, nearly touching yours. "well, we'll never know if we don't test it, now will we?" he asks with a smirk. you hesitate for another moment, still looking down at your hands. of course you were insanely curious about the effects of the project you spent weeks sweating over, and certainly would feel better knowing it actually works as intended before having to present it to the class tomorrow. but you were worried it could affect harry negatively, or that he could have a bad reaction to it, and you weren't sure if you could take that risk.

"just trust me, [y/n]. i can handle it." harry reassures you once more, his voice warm and familiar.

you sigh, carefully handing over the device to harry and leaning back in your chair. he smiles at you, taking one more look at the design of the vaporizer in his hands before bringing the mouthpiece up to his lips and inhaling the mixture. harry holds his breath for a moment before blowing out the vapor slowly, the clouds surrounding him under the dim lighting in a way that makes your heart stop. he looks ethereal with the billowing vapor coming from his lips and nostrils, a soft smile pinching his cheeks.

"tastes amazing," harry observes, taking another look at the design as the vapor fades into the air.

you wait for a few seconds, looking for any sign of behavioral changes in harry as he continues to rotate the device in his fingers. "well?" you ask in a hopeful tone.

harry looks down at you, and for a split second, you swear his pupils expand to the size of his iris before shrinking back to their normal size, blinking rapidly as they do. harry sets the device down and looks away from you, his neck jerking to the side and his knuckles clenching.

"harry?" you ask, concerned, standing from your seat and reaching for harry's shoulder. before you can touch him he jerks away, making a frustrated groaning sound as he did. you're still concerned, but mostly confused as harry's hands reach for the edge of the table and grip it so hard his veins are pulsing. his breathing is ragged and heavy, nearly growling as he tries to steady it. you're momentarily distracted before harry attempts to speak to you.

"it works," he barks out, his voice strained and impatient. you're taken aback at his aggressive change in tone. "what?" you ask again, trying again to reach for his shoulder. "harry, are you okay?"

just as you make contact with his sweatshirt, harry's legs go limp beneath him as he sinks to his knees. his breathing gets heavier as he lets out a pained groan, trying his best to stand up and let go of the table for support. "just," he says between panting breaths. "i have to go," he abruptly turns and tries to leave, his hands grabbing at his hair and face as he stumbles away.

"harry," you call after him. "what's happening? are you okay? is it hurting you?" you try to get some insight on what harry's experiencing, but he keeps shaking his head as he tries to make his way to the door.

"harry!" you finally snap, stepping away from the table. harry stops in his tracks. "our presentation is in 6 hours and you said you could handle the effects. now, i need to know what they are or else i'm testing it out myself." you demand angrily, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

harry turns to you but doesn't dare look at you, his body hunched over as if he's in pain. his hands are still rubbing at his eyes and he seems to be wiping away sweat on his forehead every other second.

"look, [y/n]," harry snaps back. you're again taken aback by his tone; you've never heard his voice so dark and foreboding before, and the sound of him practically growling your name has your mind racing. "i told you it works, okay? isn't that what you wanted?" his words are rushed, as if he's still trying to leave when you have so many questions that need answered.

"i need to know specifics, harry. what does it feel like? was there any physical response? how strong is it? i mean, you really can't let me ask a few questions about something we've been working on for weeks?" you ask.

harry frustratedly walks towards you, his wide strides making you step back towards the table in anticipation. his fists are balled at his sides, his eyes still pointed at the ground. "you wanna know what it feels like?" his voice bellows in the empty classroom, causing you to jump and gasp. you didn't want any prefects to hear you two in the lab and then have to explain why harry was in such a state.

harry comes closer to you, backing you against the table as his eyes stay fixed downward. "you wanna know how i feel, [y/n]?" he asks again, his voice less angry and more impatient, feeling his hot breath fall across your skin. again, hearing him spit your name at you so aggressively only made your mind race faster. you could hardly speak, so you just nodded your head anxiously, still attempting to put more space between you and harry.

for a while only harry's heavy breathing fills the room. you can see his hands still clenched at his sides, nearly shaking from the amount of pressure they're under. just as you're about to turn your head away from the tense moment, harry's eyes meet yours. you gasp again, this time at just how dark they had become since first looking away from you.

harry smirks evilly at your shock, his hands quickly grasping the edge of the table behind you, bringing his body even closer to yours. you were feeling such a rush of every emotion possible it was hard to tell what exactly you were feeling; all you knew is you could feel the wetness pooling between your legs despite fear making your heart race.

"i feel like i could tear you apart." harry's words drip with venom, his body leaning further into yours. you let out a shaky breath, your feet still trying to back up despite the table stopping you. "and i feel like you would let me." harry teases, his smirk growing.

you let out an involuntary squeal as harry's face comes closer to yours, turning away to avoid his eyes. "h-harry–" you try to protest, but he turns your chin back to him before you can finish.

"wouldn't you?" harry asks with a knowing tone.

you try to turn away again but harry doesn't let you, instead only bringing your lips closer to his as his hand fixes itself around your jaw tightly. you struggle a bit in his grasp but he isn't letting you go.

"i see the way you watch me, pretty girl. you may be smart but you're not very clever." harry's lips barely graze yours as he talks, his breath overwhelming your senses as he continues to stare into your eyes. "you'd love for me to tell you all the filthy thoughts running through my head about you right now, wouldn't you, darling? want me to describe every scenario, every position, every sound that comes from these pretty lips?" harry's thumb raises from your chin to your bottom lip as he swipes it across the soft skin.

you're speechless at his blunt attitude, your legs shaking beneath you as you try your best to continue standing. your mind is a mess trying to understand his response. you knew the vapor would be powerful, but you had no idea harry would react like this. you weren't exactly complaining, it was just so out of character for him to be so suggestive and upfront with his desires, let alone his apparent desire for you.

you clear your throat, trying to gain the confidence to formulate an answer to his question. "h-harry, it's the vapor, y-you're not yourself," you try to explain, your voice getting caught. "just…just sit down a-and we can talk about the side effects."

harry's grip on your jaw tightens more, making you wince slightly.

harry pulls away from your face, his eyes still boring into yours hungrily. his glasses are slightly fogged from how close he was to you, but his blown pupils were still clearly visible. he's looking down at you, smirking, chuckling at your pained expression. "you never answered my questions, if i remember correctly."

you can hardly continue keeping eye contact with harry as you felt your cheeks completely flushed and heart racing beneath his grasp. you were trying to keep it together knowing he was under the effects of a powerful potion, but part of you has wanted this for so long it only feels right to let harry have what he seems to want as well. i mean, that's what friends are for, right?

still squirming under the weight of his body against yours, harry grows impatient as he lets his clothed erection just barely rub against your thigh, enough to get your attention. your eyes widen, and harry smiles in satisfaction, humming at your response. you let your body relax despite your thumping heartbeat and rapid breathing, feeling yourself lean into harry as well.

harry hums again with his eyes tracing over every part of your face like he's trying to memorize it. "hmm, that's what i thought. now, tell me, pretty girl," harry starts, his hand tilting your head up to face him more. "what do you want?"

his question left you speechless once again. you didn't expect harry to consider your feelings in the matter; not that it made any difference anyway, you've wanted him just as bad for a long time now. but you were conflicted, was harry actually attracted to you, or would the potion make him act this way towards anybody? would it be wrong of you to encourage his behavior knowing he was under the influence of a potion? did any of that even matter with harry's throbbing erection pressed against you?

rather than answering harry's question, you took a chance and reached for his shoulders to help steady yourself before pressing your lips against his. harry moans into your mouth at the feeling, his grip on your jaw loosening but still holding you in place. his other hand snakes around from the edge of the table to your ass, hungrily grabbing for it and making you gasp.

harry takes this chance to shove his tongue past your lips, pushing you back against the table once more. in one swift motion he lifts your ass onto the tabletop, sitting you down in front of him. both of his hands go to the hem of your shirt, which you help him take off quickly. his lips attached to your neck, his hands already wrapped around your waist, and you nervously watched the door behind harry to make sure no one catches you two.

you start pulling at harry's sweatshirt and he rips it off before you even have the chance to help him. his skin is hot to the touch, and his hair's becoming damp with sweat. "harry," you say shakily as he's leaving a bruise on the side of your neck with his teeth. "you're so warm,"

pulling away and admiring the fresh red mark he's left on you, harry has a slight smirk on his swollen lips, "you should feel my heart," he says with a chuckle, guiding one of your hands to his warm chest. you can immediately feel his racing heart just beneath your fingertips, beating at a pace that couldn't be healthy for him.

you try to protest, but harry just gives you another hungry but short kiss. "i'm fine, [y/n]. i'm better than fine. it's like every inhibition i've ever had is gone, and it feels amazing. i'm sorry if i've been a bit strong, but, if you could see what i'm thinking, you'd actually be a bit impressed with my restraint…" harry voice is softer this time, his hands finding their way to your back, fiddling with the clasps on your bra. his lips wander from your ear down to your shoulder, sending a chill down your spine.

once harry has your bra undone, he looks back at you for confirmation. you eagerly help him remove it from you, throwing it to the side as harry's eyes become fixated on your chest. "fucking hell, [y/n]." harry curses under his breath before his hands cup your boobs aggressively, making you whimper in response.

it doesn't take long before harry has to press his lips against the soft skin of your tits, with his teeth following not far behind. you instinctively bring a hand to your mouth to muffle the sounds you can't hold back, but harry isn't having any of it. he gives you a stern look before grabbing your wrist and placing your hand in his messy hair. "let me hear you." he states, his voice dark and commanding once again.

once harry's lips and tongue find their way to your nipples, you can't help but start to melt in his hands. whiny moans, gasps, and occasional curses fall from your lips watching harry's eyes flutter close as he enjoys pleasing you. your fingers become entangled in his hair, holding him closer to your chest.

however, harry soon grows impatient again, and your filthy noises certainly didn't help him.

he pulls you down from the table, making sure you're able to stand before quickly turning you around and pressing his erection against your ass. you moan at the feeling and grind against him, making harry's grip on your waist tighten as he lets out his own strangled moan.

you help harry remove your pants as his come off as well. only left in your underwear, harry's arms wrap around you from behind, his fingers softly running across the wet fabric covering your pussy. "fuck," he breathes against your ear, his other arm wrapping across your chest and bringing you further into him. "i need you."

harry's desperate tone sends another shiver across your skin, your mind practically short circuiting at the thought of him wanting you so badly.

harry bends you over the table, his chest against your back as he leaves rushed kisses along the nape of your neck. the cold surface of the lab table makes you gasp, your nipples hardening at the sensation.

"now," harry says, leaving one more kiss just under your ear. "what i want you to do," he continues, reaching for your open notebook across the table as well as your pen. "is be a good potions student, and write down my symptoms." he tells you as he sets the notebook in front of you and hands you the pen. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

you're a bit confused and nearly about to protest when you feel harry's fingers hook under your panties and pull them down hastily. you try to look back at him, but a hand quickly grabs your hair from behind and forces you to look back at your notes. "follow the rules, darling." harry's deep voice instructs you with a hint of a threat behind his words.

harry's grip on your hair only makes your pussy throb more. you can feel his other hand resting on the back of your thigh, his fingers running along the wet folds of your pussy, humming to himself at the warm feeling. just as you're about to start writing, you can feel harry slowly pushing a finger inside of you. your moan is strained at the unfamiliar feeling, but harry's tight grip in your hair loosens as he begins to comfort you. "just relax and let me take care of it, baby."

if you weren't wet before you certainly were now. your knees were weakening beneath you, forcing you to lean into the table for more support. you relaxed your body and breathed evenly, trying to shift your focus to the notes in front of you instead. your handwriting is shaky and uneven, biting your lip in an attempt to distract yourself from the desperate feeling growing inside you.

"go on, tell me what you wrote." harry teases. you groan in protest but attempt to speak anyway. "r-rapid, heartbeat," you manage to say before you start writing the next symptom. "d–" you try to speak, but you gasp as harry introduces another finger into your aching pussy.

harry chuckles, tightening his grip in your hair. "hm?" he asks, waiting for you to continue. you try to hold back your moans as you look back down at your notes, your eyes attempting to focus on your writing. "d-dilated…pupils…" you trail off, your eyes rolling back as harry's fingers thrust deeper into you. you can hardly keep your moaning under control and harry's loving every second of it.

"lack of…inhibitions," you breathe out, your handwriting barely legible the more you write. harry deep chuckle from behind you only distracts you further. your stomach is tight and your legs can barely hold you up anymore as you feel your high begin to build. just as it does, harry removes his fingers and leaves you feeling empty.

before you can whine, harry lets go of his grip on your hair and instead grabs your shoulders, pulling you up from the table a bit. holding yourself up with your arms, harry separates your feet with his. you can feel the head of his cock grinding against your wetness from behind.

harry's fingers end up in your mouth, making you taste yourself as he forces your head back to look at him. his eyes are entirely dark, no longer the inviting shades of blue you're so accustomed to. his smirk is evil, and his hair is sticking to his forehead from the excessive sweating. "i want to watch you take me." harry's voice is darker than his eyes, a cold, demanding force that takes what it needs.

with his fingers still holding your mouth open, you let out a pained moan at the overwhelming feeling of harry's cock pushing inside of you. despite his aggressive demeanor, harry remains gentle with you, giving you time to adjust to the feeling and carefully watching your expression. his eyes are practically sparkling with lust watching you lose yourself in the feeling of being filled by his cock.

"fuck," harry curses under his breath again. his other hand grabs for your hips, his fingers digging into your skin like you're the only thing keeping him standing. "feel so good, darling." harry places a messy kiss on your forehead before he begins thrusting into you again, slowly, enjoying every second he's inside of you.

you're nearly crying out in pleasure and desperation with the pathetic sounds coming from you. you can hardly move against harry's grasp, not that you were complaining, but you just needed more or else you would go insane.

you attempt to push your hips back to make harry get the message, and the smirk on his face tells you he got it right away. once he starts thrusting into you quicker, your mind goes blank. you can feel the drool start to drip out of your mouth and over harry's fingers, even down to your chest and the table top. harry is groaning at the sight of you becoming such a mess for him.

"looks like you needed this more than i did, hm?" harry teases, his lips so close to your ear you can feel them. you nod eagerly, your hands reaching for his arm holding your mouth open. you grip onto his forearm for stability, your eyes rolling back into your head at the overwhelming pleasure. he takes his fingers out of your mouth and instead holds your throat tightly. you gasp for air and wipe the drool from your lips.

soon both of your moans fill the room, the air sweaty and the table creaking beneath you. the fear of someone hearing you or getting caught no longer concerns you, if anything it just thrills you even more.

harry then reaches for your notes and pen again. you try hold the pen as well as you could. "i have one more symptom i want you to add," harry says between heavy breaths, becoming worn out and even more sweaty. you whine, but nod your head as you attempt to line your writing up with the rest.

you feel harry bend you further over the table, his chest hot against your back as he continues pounding into you. it's challenging trying to keep your eyes open and focused when you're completely blissed out with harry groaning in your ear.

"obsession," he hisses, his grip on your throat tightening as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.

you try to write out the word, but you can hardly keep your hands steady. your stomach feels tight, your heart starts beating even faster, and you can feel yourself on the brink of your orgasm.

harry chuckles at your pathetic attempt at writing, but moves the notebook away anyway. "good girl." he commends you.

it's enough to bring you over the edge, your mouth dropping open with nasty sounds and eyes rolling back once more. harry groans into your ear as your pussy tightens around him, his thrusting becoming sloppy and tired.

"please," he breathes out just as you start coming down. "please, baby, can i cum inside you, please, please, i need it," harry's practically begging you, as if he even needed to ask.

"cum inside me, harry, please,"

"fuck," he moans again, his voice broken and needy. he's still desperately chasing his high, his hands sliding around to your stomach to feel himself pounding into you. "you're all mine, [y/n], all fucking mine." he growls into your ear. you could nearly cum again hearing harry fall apart behind you.

with a few more stuttering thrusts, harry cums inside you with another broken moan, bending you over the table again as his hands try to catch himself. his cock still fully inside you, you can feel his chest rising and falling on your back as he tries to catch his breath.

harry quickly gets off of you, almost in a rush. you turn to him and see his eyes are wide, his pupils shrinking back to their normal size, his hair nearly soaked in sweat. he tries his best to cover himself up, eventually grabbing for his pajama pants to put them back on. you're a bit lost at his reaction, hoping he didn't regret his actions so quickly.

"u-uhm, [y/n], i'm…i'm, so sorry," harry apologizes, his voice genuine and scared. he's wiping the sweat from his face, barely able to look at you. "i-i didn't mean for it to, f-for me to, um…" he's stumbling over his words, the same nervous harry you were so used to.

you smirked, crossing your arms in front of your chest to cover yourself a bit as well. "what, you didn't mean to fuck me over our lab table?" you ask smugly. harry's cheeks are completely flushed but he's trying his best to hide that from you, his hands covering his face.

"stop." he simply says, his voice meek and quiet. you giggle to yourself and step closer to him, admiring how pretty his sweaty skin looks in the dim lighting.

"hey," you say to him, stopping only about a foot away, completely naked and still shaking a bit. you reach for harry's arm and tug at it, making him uncover his face. he still doesn't dare look at you. "look, it's okay. that potion was extremely powerful, and we didn't know what would happen. as long as you feel alright that's all that matters, yeah? and, y'know, we can still be friends, even if you regret it..." you add the last part quietly, your voice breaking a bit.

harry looks up at you with guilty eyes. he's a bit distracted by your bare skin, but he can't stop looking back into your eyes. "please, don't take this as regret," he says, his eyebrows raised sympathetically. "i-i just, that's not…" he sighs, frustrated, looking away from you again. "it wasn't supposed to happen that way, our first time. n-not that i've thought about it that much," harry nervously interrupts himself, making you giggle once more.

harry looks back at you, his eyes wandering down to your chest. "u-uhm, just, you…if we ever did, y'know…you'd just deserve so much better than that," he tries to explain himself while clearly flustered.

you laugh again. "harry, i clearly enjoyed myself just then, didn't i? i mean, i don't know how it could've been much better." you admit, still in a teasing tone.

harry reaches for your shirt on the floor and offers to help you put it on. as he does you notice his eyes lingering on your chest again. "yes, but, i would've at least liked for you to have a bed to be comfortable on…" he says, knocking his knuckles against the hard surface of the table.

you roll your eyes at harry and reach for your pants as well. "well, maybe we can plan better for next time." you say with a smirk as you slip them on. harry straightens up from grabbing his shirt and looks at you with wide eyes again. "next time?" he asks innocently. you swear you could take him again right then and there, but you hold yourself back. "yeah, next time. if you'd like that." you offer him.

harry gives you that same shy smile he always has, and can barely hold himself back as he steps towards you and gives you a soft kiss on your lips. it's different, not hungry or full of lust, but rather warm and comforting. he pulls away after a moment to look at you, admiring your face in the light. "i'd love to." he whispers to you.

after helping you pack your stuff and clean up the table, harry offers to walk you back to your room with the invisibility cloak. you accept his offer and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, covering you both and walking you out of the lab and down the hallway.

before he leaves you for the night, harry can't help but snag another kiss, still as soft and loving as before with his hand resting on your cheek. you giggle into his lips, laying your forehead on his. "goodnight, harry." you say to him, readjusting your bag with your notebooks. "goodnight, my love." he tells you, unwrapping you from the cloak and leaving you with a swish.

the next morning you two had barely slept, sitting in potions class with matching eye bags and flushed cheeks. you could hardly look at the side of the table you were just bent over last night, and noticed harry smirking anytime he turned his head that way as well. his hands were subtly bumping into yours, as well as his knees, trying anything to get your attention during the other presentations. you just gave him a look, but couldn't help smiling at his gestures.

when it was your turn to present, harry let you do most of the talking and admired how passionately you spoke about the process to create the device. slughorn was more than impressed with your skill and knowledge, and awarded you and harry with top marks for your vaporizer.

"would there be any way to test the device?" he had asked curiously, holding it between his hands and examining it. "no!" you nearly exclaimed, taking it from his hands before he could even try. slughorn gives you a surprised look, but harry pipes up from behind you. "it's entirely too powerful to just try it out casually, sir." he says.

slughorn's eyebrows pinch together. "how so?" he asks. you and harry exchange awkward looks, both blushing and chuckling to yourselves. harry takes the device from you and puts it in his own pocket.

"just trust me, sir."

tag list: @gorlsinmultifandoms @mymoonmeow @treacletartlett @lucasinclairsgf @stvrlavs @dinomdubs

(if you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, leave a comment or send me a message! if you like this please let me know, your comments make my day <3)

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olliethescribe · 9 months

Note

Hi question but

Do you ever wonder how/why Hypno and warren had the Kraang key in the Tmnt movie?

What are your headcanons on that? 👉👈

It goes by pretty fast in the movie, but we see them steal the key from a museum as they drive out of there (there’s also a sign in the museum window with a picture of the key on it that says “super cursed item on display” or something similar. In a cut alternate opening, Warren and Hypno steal the key from a government facility. I’ll link to it here :]

#hope this is helpful :]#asked and answered #mixing-a-magic-brew #rottmnt movie #it’s a shame they cut most of the scene with them stealing the key - but I also love what we ended up getting in the final cut too

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icycoldninja · 1 month

Note

the DMC boys (Dante, Vergil, Nero, V) finding out reader is pregnant???

Sparda boys + V x Pregnant!Fem!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Freaks the hell out--not out of disappointment or anger or anything like that, but out of excitement.

-Immediately starts researching dad jokes so he and Vergil can have a "dad-off" to see who can be cornier.

-Also helps you decorate and stuff, giggling and laughing the entire time.

-Talks a lot about his plans for the baby; how he wants to be a better dad than his was, how he wants to prepare it for demon hunting, and how he wants to train it to insult Vergil on sight.

-He's also got a whole-ass list of pranks to pull with the baby prepared, from chucking water balloons at your unsuspecting neighbors to TP-ing the neighborhood houses.

-Other than that clearly childish mischief, Dante's already rocking the "middle aged dad" vibes so he'll do fine.

■ Vergil ■

-His first thought was: "Oh no, not again."

-Vergil was legitimately afraid of having another child after what happened with Nero and his unknown mother, however, you managed to convince him that this would be different and that you wouldn't be going anywhere.

-Vergil had a lot of nightmares and troubled dreams the next few weeks. Though his heart wanted to believe you, his damaged mind had other plans, which it revealed to him in the form of horrible visions.

-With your help, and a lot of time, he got over these dark thoughts and began to see the light in having another child.

-Though he wouldn't dare speak it aloud, Vergil was convinced that the baby would reunite the Sparda family once and for all: Nero would finally have a sibling whom he'd want to visit, allowing Vergil to spend more time with his son, and since he, Nero, and the new baby would all be together, Dante would naturally join in and the boys could be bros again.

-After having that revelation, Vergil became noticeably more excited for the baby's birth.

□ Nero □

-Nero is excited but terrified.

-He's more than happy to learn you're expecting, but since he's so young, he's worried he won't make a good dad. You'd think he'd ask his parents for help, but no...he never knew his mom and his dad is less than pleasant.

-So, what does he do? Nothing. He puts his hood up and sits on the couch, doing nothing in tense silence.

-After an hour or so of brooding, he decides, fuck it, he's gonna wing it and be the best dad the Sparda bloodline will ever see.

-He proudly announces this fact over dinner at Devil May Cry, eliciting mixed responses, particularly from the soon-to-be-grandpa.

-You and Nero will be excellent parents who raise a happy, healthy child, he'll see to that.

● V ●

-Doesn't even know what being pregnant means, and can you really blame him? The only piece of literature he's ever read is William Blake's poetry, it's a miracle he can tie his shoes. Oh wait, he wears sandals.

-Griffon knows, somehow, and explains what it is. The minute the realization dawns upon him is the minute his eyes widen, his mouth drops open, and he nearly passes out.

-A baby, a real life baby is brewing gestating in your tummy and it's his?! He helped make life!? What?!

-V is ecstatic! He can't wait to read this baby bedtime stories, sing it lullabies, and rock it to sleep.

-Even his familiars are preparing; Griffon is ready to give it a light show with his magic and Shadow keeps bringing dead birds as gifts.

-V might be a complete noob when it comes to living life, but hey, so is your baby, so they can figure things out together.

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tavyliasin · 2 months

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In Sickness, And An Elf - Halsin Comfort Short

Written for a dear darling who is feeling unwell, a short and sweet SFW piece of Halsin x Reader to comfort someone suffering from flu (or a similar ailment)

Short below the cut~ (Yes, the title is a pun, and yes I am proud of it~) --- ---

“My heart?” Halsin’s voice was soft, quiet, his hand already pressing to your forehead. “Too warm…” He muttered, already channeling a little magic to cool his hand. He was right, too. You could feel the fever burning in your cheeks, your head spinning every time you tried to move, your throat raw from the cough that woke you every hour. “Hal-”

“Shhh. There is no need for you to try so hard, my love. I have no intention of going far.” His hand smoothed back the stray hair that had fallen forwards, pushing it behind your ear before cupping your cheek. The kiss on your forehead felt achingly tender. “Close your eyes, wait here.” You nodded silently, earning another brief and chaste kiss to your heated skin before his presence withdrew. The sickness was dreadful, taking its toll on your whole body with the fever, the ache, the shivers that seemed to go from your skin and deep into your bones. Still…there was some comfort to know that the druid was near. Halsin’s footsteps roused you from an uneasy sleep you hadn’t even realised had crept back in, his face a blur as you blinked away to find him kneeling beside your bedroll. “Here, let me help you.” His arm slipped behind your shoulders, his other wrapping around your chest to brace your shoulders and help you sit up. More pillows had appeared behind you than were there when you lay down, providing a place to lean back a little. Your vision cleared more with a few blinks, the worry lines in his brow far clearer now. Golden eyes traced a path across your flush skin, assessing your symptoms quickly.

“Drink this first, my heart, it will help. Even if it does taste terrible.” The mug had a smell of fresh lemon, spiced ginger, and a few bitter herbs mixed into the brew. He chuckled softly. “I am not fond of it either, but it will work.”

Your nose wrinkled after the first sip. “I’m not sure how torture is a cure. Or is this poison to put me out of my misery faster?” “If you are good and finish it quickly, I may consider giving you a reward.” Halsin winked, a wry smile playing across his lips. “But that means no more complaining. Come, now, all of it.” The flavour did not improve, so you decided it would be better to just hold your nose and drain the lot in a few quick gulps. You fought the urge to gag, but true to his word your chest felt eased, your throat stinging yet strangely soothed by the spiced burn of the ginger. “There, that was not so bad, was it?”

“No, it was worse.” You managed a lopsided smile as you handed the mug back to him. “See? Empty. All gone.”

“Very good, my love.” He kissed your cheek, a distraction as he reached behind him. “Just my cheek?” You huffed with mock disappointment. “I thought you promised a reward.” “I do not think raising your temperature further is wise.” Halsin dabbed the sweat from your forehead with a cool and refreshing cloth, the slight scent of mint infused in the water it had soaked in. “We can save anything like that for when you are fully recovered.” “I hope your medicine works fast.” “You’re not the only one…” His reply was so quiet you might not have heard it, especially with your ears feeling as blocked as your nose, but you could have guessed how he felt from the way he shifted his position. “Now, your reward. Open wide.” You closed your eyes, trusting him not to feed you more poison, or medicine if that’s what it was. You were pleasantly surprised by the sweetness that hit your tongue, the slick treat melting down across your tastebuds. There was a slight sting as you swallowed, but it was warm and soothing. You should have guessed this was what he meant. “Honey?” “Yes, my love?” Halsin laughed, already pouring another trickle onto the spoon for you. “A little more, it’s good for you. Then we will see if Gale is done with the soup he has been preparing for you. Karlach has been helping with the bread to go with it, though luckily Wyll is there to ensure it does not burn. Shadowheart and Lae’zel were very insistent on gathering and hunting the fresh ingredients, too. Even Astarion offered to supervise the pot so it doesn’t boil over, though truth be told he may be picking the job that allows him to put in the least effort.”

“You’re all going to these lengths for me? Why?” You felt a few tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You hadn’t known them for long, and often you worried that you were bothering them with your questions or talking to them at camp. “Does it matter?” His thumb gently dried your eyes. “Let yourself be cared for this time. You have given enough of yourself to solve all of their problems, and no doubt you will continue to leap straight into the hells for any one of them.”

You tried to find the words to respond, to tell him that it was only the shared burden that kept them with you, but even in your mind that felt sour. They were putting in an effort, they were showing their care in their own ways.

“As for me,” Halsin continued, pulling the blanket up to wrap closer around you before the chill of the night air could make you feel any worse, the energy slowly leaving you again as your eyes grew heavy. “Well, my heart, that is simple.” The whisper of his affection in your ear was barely audible, the depth of his feelings reaching you at the edge of your dreams as sleep won out once more. The druid pressed one last soft kiss to your head before standing to leave. “Rest well, my love. I hope you feel better soon.”

#halsin #halsin x reader #baldurs gate 3 #comfort fanfic #short fanfic #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #fanfic #bg3 halsin #halsin is just made of care #get well soon

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beachylupin · 7 months

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Werewolves of London || Remus Lupin x American!Fem!Reader

i've crawled out of writing slump hell to publish this. i really hope you all enjoy. feedback is always appreciated :-) let me know if you'd like to see more! <3 pt. 2 here word count: 3.6k warnings: talking about children being turned, mentions of a weapon, maybe a few swear words, i literally can't think of anything else

“You’re looking for the Leaky Cauldron in London,” the gruff-sounding man said over the phone. “Where are you calling from?”

“Heathrow?” You said, sounding confused. Where else would you be calling from? “Am I supposed to be somewhere else?”

“Right…” he muttered into the phone, shushing the person who was talking behind him. “You didn’t apparate to King’s Cross from there?”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to,” you mumbled as he said, “Could’ve just apparated instead of just taking a plane.”

“Have you apparated across an ocean?” You quipped, and he stopped grumbling. “Listen, I’ll figure it out, okay? Should I catch the tram to King’s Cross and call you when I get there? Or would you like me to apparate to somewhere I’ve never been?”

“Just take the bloody tram. We’ll send someone to meet you,” he grumbled, half-talking to the person behind him before hanging up abruptly.

You stood confused for a beat before hanging up the phone, quietly apologizing to the person behind you for taking so long.

Following the signs, you made it to the tram, boarding just before the doors closed.

You sat, keeping your luggage on your lap and you looked around at the other passengers. You were sure they could tell you weren’t from here.

You had on a long, leather duster jacket, hiding a dark green top and a pair of black bell bottoms. Tapping your heels to the song playing on your walkman, you ignored them, staring out the window at the underground darkness.

It wasn’t strange being called somewhere else. As someone who worked as an herbalist and potioneer who specialized in harvesting monkshood and brewing the difficult potion invented a few years prior, this was your job.

You were a board member of the Lycanthropy Regulation and Control Committee at the Magical Congress of the United States of America. It was your duty to try and prevent them from coming into towns and completely ravaging them by giving them wolfsbane when they were caught.

Wolfsbane, monkshood, or aconite was deadly. If it was harvested by someone inexperienced, they could simply die. For a lycanthrope, this was their saving grace. This miracle plant is what kept them human.

You were here to help develop a type of werewolf resolution, Project Blue, for what a leader of sorts, Mr. Moody, had called “The Order.” You thought of this group as the resistance to whatever race war had been started here.

This resolution would be developed in secret by both you and the maker of the wolfsbane potion, Damocles Belby, and it had to remain a secret. You had received a list of names that could know exactly what you were doing attached to a different letter from Mr. Dumbledore, and you assumed the rest were to be left in the dark.

Mr. Dumbledore also gave you a protector, who was called Moony. You were given specific instructions to board with this Mr. Moony and tell nobody only if they told you the code word: blue. To anyone unsuspecting, blue is just a color, but to someone who knew about the project, it meant the color of the solution: wolfsbane.

The war really must have been in full swing, and considering that you were an American half-blood, you were stepping into dangerous territory.

Sure, the United States had its fair share of war, but it was the mixing pot of the world. Pure blood, half blood, or no-maj born: a wizard was a wizard. You had always been treated just the same.

Werewolves, however? They were something else completely. The United States werewolf was one of the most dangerous creatures in the world. Having endless room to roam, they often lived outside of civilization, only coming in when they needed someone new to join their tribe.

This meant taking the children in quiet towns and turning them into werewolves so that by the time that they were fully grown and strong, they had no memories of being a human.

These were the werewolves that you typically saw: mangy, feral, and insisting that they didn’t need wolfsbane. Nearly all of them had never taken it before, spending their whole werewolf existence in the wild, losing themselves completely, even when they weren’t in their wolf form.

It was devastating, not only for the families of these children, but for the werewolves that were doing their part to prevent anyone else from getting this terrible disease.

The werewolves of London and the surrounding area were almost always docile. Having taken wolfsbane from the moment they turned, they’d given up the desire to live a feral life.

However, there was a pack that was a danger to The Order. A pack that led the American lifestyle and stayed away unless they needed a new member. One led by Fenrir Greyback. A name that put shivers down anyone’s spine.

The tram screeched to a stop at King’s Cross, and you got off, immediately finding a phone. You dialed the number again.

“Who am I looking for?” You asked as a now different louder man coughed.

“Uhhh-” He cupped the receiver, his shouting muffled. “Aye! Who’d we send again?” Someone answered him and he loudly removed his hand. “A blonde girl! My age! Pretty.”

“How am I supposed to know your age?” You asked, looking around for a blonde girl. “I can’t see you.”

“Oh… Um, right,” he mumbled, covering the receiver again. “Hey! How would you describe Marlene?!” His shouting was muffled again, but this time, the phone was forcibly taken from him, a girlish huff breathing into the receiver.

“Right, you’re looking for a girl named Marlene McKinnon.” This girl sounded exasperated, shushing the laughter behind her. “She left here wearing leather trousers and a feather duster coat. ‘M sure she’s wearing a beret,” she said as you looked around King’s Cross.

You found who fit the bill immediately, dressed in exactly what the girl described.

“I found her! Thank you!” You breathed. “I’ll probably see you in a little bit.”

“Most likely!” She sounded like she was smiling. “Goodbye, and safe travels!”

Hanging up the phone, you picked your luggage up again, weaving through the small crowd to where the pretty blonde was standing.

She looked to be about in her late teens. Her makeup was sparkly and dark, and she had on about a million necklaces. The feather duster coat was gaudy. Nearly everything about her was gaudy.

“Marlene?” You asked as soon as you approached her. You introduced yourself, taking her ringed hand into your gloved one.

“You must be our gal!” She said, pulling you into a tight hug. “How was your flight?”

You shrugged. “Long.”

“Bloody hell, I can only imagine,” she said, her hand still in yours as she pulled you through the station. “Leaky is just a few blocks down!”

Marlene finally let go of your hand as soon as you were out of the busy station and in the rainy September air. “Have you been to London before?”

You shook your head. “I’ve never been over the ocean.”

“Ooh, first time?” She asked, her eyebrows raised. “We’ll have to show you a good one then.”

“Well, I’m here on business,” you said, desperately trying to keep up with her. “I’m not sure if I’ll have enough time to have fun.”

“How long are you here for?” She asked.

You shrugged, genuinely not knowing. “However long it takes for it to get developed.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “What’s it?”

“I’m not supposed to disclose that information,” you said quietly, looking at your feet. At least to you.

Marlene glanced at you, her expression unreadable. “Well, I’m sure you’ll still have time.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly, but not wanting to argue, you continued on after her, your luggage clattering on behind you.

The Leaky Cauldron was a hole-in-the-wall type of pub. It was no wonder they were allowed to be in downtown London without worrying about no-majs coming in.

It was fairly busy, and Marlene quickly bee-lined to the back where there was a secluded table full of people. She mumbled something before sitting down, and they all turned to look at you as you excused yourself past a group of open-mouthed witches.

“Hi everyone,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ears once you set your luggage down. You scanned their surprisingly young faces. “Who was the first person I talked to on the phone? Um.. Mr. Alastor M-” Moony? Moody?

“Moody?” The raven-haired boy said. You nodded, eyebrows raised hopefully. “He left.”

“He left?” You asked, scoffing when everyone at the table nodded. “Why?”

“You took too long,” he replied as if it was an easy answer. “He’ll be ‘round tomorrow morning with everyone else.”

“I told you that you’d have time,” Marlene said, smiling tightly. “Things don’t get done around here unless you stick us to it. The rest of ‘em are old.”

“They’re busy,” another boy corrected her.

“Great,” you sighed. “Well, in that case-” You pinched off your leather gloves and stuck your hand out to the raven-haired boy, introducing yourself.

“Sirius Black,” he said, shaking your hand enthusiastically. “It’s nice to meet you!”

You nodded then looked at the bespeckled boy. “Tell me your name is something easy to remember,” you teased, smiling at the other boy.

“I’m James,” he said, and you sighed a breath of faux relief.

“I’ll remember that one,” you said, smiling at the rest of the group.

James then pointed to the blonde boy. “That’s Peter. Next to him is Lily, and this-”

You could tell immediately who he was. Mr. Dumbledore, who you still hadn’t met yet, had told you that there was indeed a werewolf in “The Order,” and up until this point, you couldn’t discern who.

But he looked the part, down to the claw-like scars that riddled his face. He didn’t look dangerous. He looked the least dangerous of them all, dressed like an old man in a funky blue and brown sweater and dingy jeans. You couldn’t tell if he was a teen or fifty from the way he held himself, but considering his friends, you decided he was on the younger side of the spectrum.

“Remus,” he said, smiling slightly.

“Remus,” you repeated. You held his gaze for a beat longer before clearing your throat. “Well, it’s nice to meet all of you.” You glanced at your luggage then back at the table.

He glanced at your luggage as well, meeting your eyes with a look that said, “Leave it.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

Sirius pulled out a chair for you, patting it so you’d sit.

You obliged, looking around the table.

“I was hoping Moo-” Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to remember his name. Not Moony. “Um, Alastor?”

“Moody,” Sirius finished for you, exchanging a look with James.

“Yeah, Moody was going to be here to set me up with the right person, but I see that might not happen tonight,” you said, settling into your seat.

“Well, who exactly are you looking for?” James asked, looking around the group. “We might be able to set you up with…” He baited you, waiting for the name.

“I’m not supposed to disclose that information with you,” you mumbled, looking down. “It’s… It’s all very secretive, I know, but I got very detailed instructions about what I’m supposed to do and who I’m supposed to discuss and do it with.” You threw a pained smile at the group. “Your names aren’t on that list…” You glanced at Remus, then sent your gaze at the table. “Only a few can know right now.”

“So we can know nothing?” Sirius asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sure you’ll know eventually,” you suggested and sighed when he rolled his eyes. “I’m really sorry. I wish I could tell you.”

“What can we know?” Marlene asked, causing you to shrug.

“What do you want to know?” You countered, glancing at the small group.

Lily stared at you with narrowed eyes. “What do you do in America?”

“I work for the Magical Congress of the United States,” you answered simply. “I’m a herbalist and potioneer.”

The girls cocked their heads.

“How old are you?” Peter asked, resting his cheeks on his hands.

“Nineteen.”

“And you work for them at nineteen?” Peter acted shocked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah?”

Peter humphed, sitting back in his chair. “Carry on.”

“Have you always lived in America?” James asked, and you nodded.

“Where do you live in America?” Sirius asked.

“I kind of move from place to place depending upon the need for me,” you replied. A few of them furrowed their eyebrows. “Home base is New York City, though.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Marlene asked. “They needed you for something?”

You paused, shrugging slightly. “Yes?”

“For herbalism and potions,” Lily clarified, and you sighed, shrugging.

“I suppose,” you said. “I’m not going to tell you why I’m here.”

Lily pursed her lips. “I’ll figure it out. Just give me a moment.”

“I really don’t think you will,” you said, your eyebrows pinched together. “I haven’t given you anything to work off of.”

But Lily ignored you, her eyes closed as she thought. Marlene was next to her, trying to piece it together.

“Remus,” Sirius said, leaning to look at him. “You’re awfully quiet over there. Do you have any dying questions for the girl at the stand?”

Remus, who had been all but paying attention, hummed, looking at you.

“What’s your favorite color?” He asked.

Sirius and James let out a laugh.

“Really?” Peter asked, hands hitting the table. “We’re in a Sherlock type mystery and you ask what her favorite color is?”

“It’s an important question,” Remus replied, shrugging. He looked back at you, hopeful.

“Blue,” you said, and he narrowed his eyes.

“Blue?” He repeated, and you nodded. A knowing smile grew on Remus’ face. “Interesting.”

“How is that bloody interesting?” Sirius asked. “It’s blue. Everything is bloody blue.”

Remus simply shrugged, glancing at you again. “Just… fitting.”

You narrowed your eyes. He must’ve been the one that Mr. Dumbledore called Moony.

“What’s yours?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Green,” he said, smiling. Sirius looked between the two of you.

You nodded, looking around. “Any other questions?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “What does he know?”

You glanced at Remus. “Probably as much as you.”

Remus confirmed your suspicion with a nod.

“Well, we’ll figure you out,” Lily said, leaning her head on Sirius’ arm. “Before you tell us.”

“Where are you staying?” James asked, glancing at Lily and Sirius. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you stayed with us.”

“I actually have a room booked here,” you lied, pushing yourself up from the chair. “I should probably see if it’s ready for me.”

“Right,” James said, smiling slightly as he stood. “We should be off, shouldn’t we?” He asked, reaching for Lily’s hand. She took it, allowing herself to be pulled up, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“We have an early morning,” Sirius said, glancing at Marlene. “You ready?”

Marlene nodded, getting up. “It was nice meeting you,” she said curtly.

“Yeah, it was nice meeting all of you,” you replied, watching Remus stand, nose crinkled as his knee popped.

“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Sirius said, looking at Lily. “We’ll have you figured out by then.”

You sighed. “Please don’t try to figure me out.”

“Too late,” Lily said sweetly, her hand in James’ as she started pulling him out of the pub.

James waved a goodbye to you and Marlene tailed the two of them out with Sirius following slightly behind. He turned around.

“You coming, Moony?” He asked, and Remus shook his head.

“I need a night cap,” he said, waving Sirius away. “Don’t worry about me.”

Sirius took this dismissal with a raised eyebrow, slightly shrugging before walking away.

“Moony?” You said quietly, crossing your arms over your chest. “That isn’t a very clever nickname.”

“Neither is Bane, but I didn’t say anything,” he quipped, reaching to take your luggage but you beat him to it.

“Bane?” You said, your nose crinkled. “That’s what your leader is calling me?”

“Better than Monk like he originally wanted,” he said, offering you his arm. You looked at it, sighing. “We’re going to have to apparate.”

“I know,” you grumbled, taking his arm. “I just hate doing it.”

“It’s not my favorite thing either,” he said, leading you outside the pub.

The wet sidewalk was clear, allowing Remus to quickly lead you into the alleyway, looking around again.

“Take a breath,” he said, and you did so, the breath leaving you as soon as there was a familiar tug on your navel.

The Eldritch Manor lay before you, half destroyed. It was supposed to be your place to sleep and work. A place to be safe. This didn’t look like a place where you could do any of those things.

Half of the manor was missing, rubble and stones lying in a place where a wing might’ve been. A house fire was possible, but it looked as though something hit the house.

“‘S not much,” Remus said quietly, allowing you to drop his arm. He immediately reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

He could tell you weren’t impressed by the way you straightened, your owlish eyes staring at the half of the house that was still standing.

It was also made of stone, but it was covered in dying ivy, a plant that would’ve flourished in the summer. A gnarled branch weaved its way up the front of the house.

“I wasn’t impressed either,” he said through a puff of his cigarette. “But it’s what we’ve got.”

He stamped out the other half of his cigarette and headed inside, leaving you to follow behind him.

You looked around Remus’ house. It wasn’t huge but it wasn’t tiny. Books and blankets lay on almost every surface, and there was a chill running through the house that you couldn’t quite place. You set your luggage down and toed off your shoes, watching as Remus knelt down in front of the fireplace, busying himself with stacking logs.

“This isn’t where I normally live,” he said, his knees cracking as he stood up from the fireplace. “This is temporary.” He took his wand out, lighting the fire wordlessly.

“Like a safe-house?” You asked, sitting down in a leathery chair, covering yourself with the throw blanket.

“Exactly like that,” he said, sitting down across from you. “Got here a few days ago to make it homey.”

You looked around the small living room. There was an endless supply of books around, as if that’s all he did in his spare time. You leaned, peeking at the kitchenette, where a stove and a fridge sat, looking as if they’d never been used.

“It’s nice,” you said quietly, looking into the fire.

A lull fell over the two of you. Maybe Remus figured that you were tired from your journey, or maybe he didn’t know what to say.

You didn’t have much to say either. This was the first time that you were meeting him, and you only knew a few things about him. First, his name was Remus, and he went by Moony. Second, his favorite color was actually most likely green considering all of the blankets in this house were either green or brown, and third, he was a werewolf who hated being a werewolf.

You didn’t have to ask him to know that. The way he tried to act normal was a telltale sign.

Remus cleared his throat, causing you to turn your attention to him. “So Moody said what you’re working on is… dangerous? And that you needed my help?”

“Sort of,” you sighed, and he continued staring, urging you to go on. “You haven’t been debriefed yet, have you?” you asked, sitting up straighter. He shook his head causing you to sigh again.

“You need to talk with me?” Remus asked.

“I’m actually here to consult with Damocles Belby, the inventor of-”

“Wolfsbane, yeah,” he interjected.

“Alastor was supposed to set that up tonight, but he left, as you know,” You said, your tone clipped. “Him and I… We’re trying to fashion a type of… explosive to use in case of-”

“A werewolf?” Remus asked, and you reluctantly nodded.

“A feral werewolf,” you corrected him, your mouth tight.

“Ah,” Remus tutted. “So you’re saying someone whose a monster-”

“That’s not at all what I’m saying,” you said quietly as his gaze dropped from yours. “I’m not saying they’re monsters. Werewolves aren’t monsters, but I don’t think you understand the real problem-“

“Moony is… I am the problem,” he quipped, getting up. “I think I understand it quite well. Now, if you’re thinking you’re going to use a bomb on me-”

“I never said it was going to be you-”

“-you’re daft, alright?” He finished over you, pulling the sleeves of his sweater down as he strode across the room.

You scrambled after him. “You’re not part of the problem, Remus!” You called, following him down the hall. “You do your part to prevent the spread! I can tell!”

He snorted, looking at you over his shoulder. “If that’s your way of telling me that you think I’m a virgin, you’re dead wrong.”

Your eyebrows instantly furrowed, taken aback. “Lycanthropy isn’t spread that way,” you muttered more to yourself than to him. You huffed, catching his hand as he rounded the kitchen doorway. He stopped, glaring at you. “You’re not understanding me. You haven’t turned anyone. You’re not biting anyone on full moons, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay, good,” you huffed, letting him pull his hand away from yours. “The explosive is for the ones who try their hardest to turn as many innocents as possible. The ones who flock into defenseless villages and towns to kill and turn anyone they see.” You swallowed, your tone quiet, “The ones who turn children.”

Remus’ face turned from sullen to serious as he blinked, eyebrows furrowing. “Why do you need my help?”

“I think you might know where they’re hiding.”

#remus lupin #part one #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x american!fem!reader #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic

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