#I’ve seen his name spelled a few different ways but I went with the one that’s on the papers he published
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notaplaceofhonour · 7 months ago
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It’s maddening to find out that the scholar who first developed the idea that “Zionism is Settler Colonialism”, Fayez Sayegh, was a member of the Syrian Nazi Party during and immediately after the Holocaust, was an active participant in the Red Scare, using it to demonize Israel as a manifestation of a Global Communist Threat™️ through the height of the Cold War (true to his Nazi roots, accusing Israel of Judeo-Bolshevism) before switching to a Colonialism narrative when Post-Colonialism came in vogue in the 60s. And yet, the people I hear parroting the talking points of this anti-Communist, Ultranationalist Fascist-turned-scholar are the people who are constantly talking about how Liberal Progressives aren’t Communist enough and actually enemies because “Liberals will always side with Fascists”. Maddening.
If you’ve ever noticed how the “Zionism = Settler Colonialism” narrative eerily shares the core components of the far right’s Replacement Theory (that there are 1. Jews 2. conspiring to invade a given place and 3. replace the population with Jews), this is why; it’s because the idea that Zionism is Settler Colonialism came from a literal Nazi.
It is very literally Nazi propaganda.
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yandere-writer-momo · 7 months ago
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Yandere Head Canons:
Hypnotic Affection
Yandere Merman x Mermaid Reader x Merman
TW: manipulation, hypnotism/ drugging, tentacles, kidnapping, yandere themes, delusional behavior, etc.
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Since you were young, you had been betrothed to a shark merman named Marin. Marin was a cantankerous individual and was quite rude to you since you weren’t a shark mermaid. The only reason the two of you were even betrothed was so your clans would stopped fighting… yet you knew you’d be miserable with Marin.
You often attempted to court him with various shells you’d find but he’d always rebuff you. “These shells are too small, you’ll need something better than some measly clams to have me look your way longer than a few minutes.”
His words were always as sharp as his teeth. His clawed hands would always chuck your clam shells away no matter how pretty they were, it broke your heart. You really wanted to make this marriage work… maybe he’d budge if you found a conch shell?
You bowed your head to your fiancè before you headed off back toward the sea. Marin had no idea this would be the last time he’d see you in awhile…
You swam farther and farther from home until you spotted a conch. You were on the edge of deep sea territory, so it was best to be careful or else you’d get swept up in the current… but it would be worth it if you’d gift the conch to Marin and he’d finally accept you, right?
Your eyes lit up as you slowly swam towards it but you were quickly snatched up in large tentacles, a screech left your lips when the tentacles tighter around you.
A different merman quirked their head at you as they shimmied out from their hiding spot in the coral. “A-a mermaid? I’m sorry.”
The coral colored tentacles quickly released you before ghostly pale hands began to examine your body in worry. “I just thought you were a fish… I hadn’t meant to lunge at you.”
You were surprised by how shy this merman was, his hands trembled as he shakily checked your arms to make sure there were no marks.
“I’m perfectly okay, I’m (your name). What’s your name?” The octopus merman’s cheeks went aflame when you asked him for his name.
“I-I’m Ren! I’m an octopus.” Ren’s tentacles folded into one another as if they were comforting his nerves. “I still apologize for scaring you… I’ve never seen another mermaid before.”
You smiled at Ren and offered him your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ren. I hadn’t meant to trespass your area… it seems I wandered a bit too far.”
“I-it’s no issue at all!” Ren beamed, his dark eyes filled with stars while his tentacles flailed in excitement. “If you want, you can stay in my burrow with me! It’s quite comfy in here.”
“That’s so sweet of you.” (Your name) beamed at Ren who ushered her inside. The merman began to become a bit jittery when she accepted so easily. He’s been wanting a mate for so long… and now she was finally here!
Ren sealed his den shut as soon as she swam in. His tentacles blocked the exit watch a large boulder. “It’s to keep predators out!” Ren reassured her as he lead her around his small home. She marveled at the various jars and vegetation he kept. “I’m a sea witch.”
“Wow! That’s really fascinating!” Ren blushed again when you didn’t mock him for being a sea witch. It made his heart flutter. You were so sweet and that made him even happier… the only issue was that you were a different species than him…
“How about I show you a few tricks?” Ren was so happy when you accepted. The octopus merman showed you a very simple spell that made his home brighter. He was thrilled when you clapped your hands and smiled. Ren was so happy to no longer be alone… and he would never let you go.
Ren offered you a meal and you happily ate with him. The vegetation made your brain a bit foggy, but the taste was delightful. Had Ren always been so attractive?
Ren smiled at your sleepy form as you yawned. “Here, how about you spend the night? It’ll be so much safer for you that way.”
You nodded and allowed him to lead you into his den. His tentacles pulled you into an embrace as he smiled. This was just too easy…
You didn’t know how much time had passed since you entered Ren’s burrow since Ren would often feed you every time you tried to leave. Ren made you such lovely meals that you slowly began to forget what even brought you to this end of the sea. You really liked Ren, so why did you have to leave again? You felt as if there was some strange phenomenon happening around you and yet you didn’t care anymore… you liked being with Ren!
Meanwhile, Marin was in shambles. You had been missing for a week now. You always showed up every other day with your stupid smile as you held up some shells you found to him… you were never away from him for long. Marin searched your home in the anemones and he searched all the reefs around yet you were nowhere to be found… were you okay? You didn’t try to go find a bigger shell for him, did you?
You didn’t know it, but Marin always gathered up all the shells he’d throw. He just wanted to look tough in front of you… but now he knew it was a mistake. You wouldn’t risk your life for a shell when you were already engaged to him, right? You were already enough… you were always enough.
A month had went by and you were still missing. Marin now took more desperate measures of swimming out farther and farther… until he spotted a conch. The shark merman rushed towards the shell and began to examine the ocean floor until he spotted a sealed off den. The merman quickly swam toward the rock and searched for a crack until he could peek in there. The sight before him horrified him.
Ren’s purple appendages slid up and down your delicate tail as his hands grasped at your hips. “Would you like to be my mate, (your name)?” Your head felt so dizzy and you could only nuzzle into him. Ren smiled down at your obedient form. What a perfect mate you’d be! It was just so easy to ensnare you and to hypnotize you with his potions… it was all so easy-
Ren was shocked when the boulder to the den was shoved open and a shark merman lunged at him. Ren screamed when one of his appendages were bitten off by the shark. Marin’s large gray form quickly scooped you up and made a swim for it. Ren tried to snatch you back, but Marin easily evaded the tentacles. Ren began to scream as he tried to give chase, but the blood gushing from his missing arm would attract more sharks… he’d have to come back for you another day…
Marin didn’t look back once until the two of you were an hour away. The shark set you down on a rock as he began to examine your body for any wounds. “You’re okay now… we’re going home.”
You tilt your head to the side in confusion at Marin’s words. Who was this merman and why did he seem so familiar? “But I was home? I live with Ren.”
Marin felt a sob rack through him before he bent down and pulled you into a hug. What had that octopus done to you? Marin would protect you this time, he’d help you get back to normal. “You’re safe now… you’re safe.”
You often sat in a trance in Marin’s den. It was as if you were in a whole other world despite being next to him, a world where Marin could no longer reach you.
“Look! I have all the shells you gave me on the walls.” Marin gestured to the various colorful clamshells with a smile. “I’m sorry I was mean before, but that didn’t mean I didn’t like you! I really do care for you, I swear.”
Marin was filled with hope each day when you’d glance at the shells but his hopes would always be dashed when you’d tilt your head off to the side. “Do I know you?”
“I’m Marin... I’m your fiance.” Marin was so frustrated that you couldn’t remember him. He had tried everything… from taking you to every spot you two grew up together to your old den, yet nothing clicked. You only ever wanted to ask about that damned octopus merman.
Marin often cuddled beside you when it was time to sleep. His muscular arms felt so strange around you compared to Ren’s slender ones. You really missed Ren…
“Psst, (your name).” You perked up when you heard Ren’s voice. You gave him a big smile before you slinked out of Marin’s arms. “Let’s go home.”
You quickly swam towards the octopus merman who scooped you into a tight hug. A big smile on his face when you accepted him. He almost felt bad for Marin if it wasn’t for the fact that the shark merman was the entire reason the two of you met! What a sucker…
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whatisthismandoinghere · 2 years ago
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So I’ve watched a good chunk of seasons 3 and 4 of Laramie as well as a few from season 1 and I am now gonna make it all yall’s problem and bless you with my commentary and clips from each episode, enjoy I guess 😂
Without further ado, S1.EP1 Stage Stop
Not the outlaw being upset they spelled his name wrong in the newspaper 😂
Jess’s introduction to Laramie was absolutely terrible, poor guy just got shot at. Absolutely love how he just ignored the lawman when he was told to stop though, a very Jess thing to do 🤣
Jess and Slim’s first meeting is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. Let’s take a look at it, shall we?
I mean the first shot alone where they show the sign “Sherman Ranch, No Trespassing” and then cut to Jess just lounging around like he owns the place 😂 
And the dialogue:
Slim: What’re you doing here?
Jess: Gettin’ a crick in my back!
Plus this gem:
Jess: I had 3 or 4 swallows out of your private stream. My horse helped himself too, so you just figure out what I owe you, and I’ll be on my way. Oh, and uh, I looked at a bird flying over. Will there be a charge for that?
Look Jess I love you so much but who gave you the right to be so freaking sassy 😂 (we adore him for it though) but Slim had valid concerns, I see both sides of the situation here. I mean Jess, you should’ve read the sign, and I can see why Slim is wary of strangers, but I too would be ticked off if someone just showed up and was holding me at gunpoint
Not Jess just sending Slim flying 😂 boy don’t mess around
Overall I think this first meeting went really well you guys
Andy is so flipping adorable and I would die for him, the way he just gets along so well with Jess right off the bat 😭 10x funnier that he’s Slim’s brother though 🤣
Look at the racoon! And the way Andy washed his food for him 🥺 it's so cute how this little gesture shows how much he knows about animals and how much he cares for them
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When Jess dozed off and Andy came in and startled him and he just whipped around with his gun and when he realized it was Andy and he was so apologetic 😭 but just gets me thinking about Jess being a loner and a drifter and being so used to looking out for himself yet still being so compassionate to this kid he just met. He’s so good with kids and I think it’s just darling seeing him interact with Andy and later on Mike.
Ugh I’m having so many Thoughts on Jess’s childhood, of course they are of the angsty variety, all prompted by these lines of dialogue (putting them in different colors so it's easier to differentiate between them):
Andy: Jess, how old were you when you first went out on your own?
Jess: Can’t hardly remember when I wasn’t on my own, like Jeremiah here and Sam. Only I didn’t find a soft touch like you. Maybe I didn’t want one. 
Andy: Do you like it better alone?
Jess: It just worked out that way.
Andy: Don’t you get lonely sometimes?
Jess: You get used to it.
As if these lines weren't heart breaking enough, Jess's tone of voice and facial expressions just really added to it. Yes there will be fics in the future no I do not need more wips
Jess had a fractured skull you say?? *adds to list of details to keep in mind for later*
Look at them playing cards together <3 yes I totally get that Andy's complete and total willingness to trust anyone who comes along is a bit concerning but it's also so sweet and I just love how he interacts with Jess
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The way Andy was just working up the courage to ask Jess to take him with him and Jess being so gentle and telling him maybe when he’s older their relationship is everything you guys 😭
I know at times Slim seems a little harsh on Andy but he really just wants the best for him and it’s sweet. 
Love how Jonesy just deescalates the situation so smoothly and just calmly drags Slim away 😂
I’ve noticed that Jess gets called saddle tramp an awful lot so I’m starting a running count, we are currently at 1
Jonesy saying Slim is just a kid is just… it’s kinda funny but at the same time - how do I want to explain this? - like Slim is out here saying Andy needs to get things figured out, needs to become a better judge of character, and then Jonesy is just like “you’re figuring things out too pally. you’re responsible for your kid brother now and you still got some things to learn” You can see that Jonesy knows Slim really well and I love their dynamic
Jess was so ready to end Slim right then and there 😂 what can I say, I like my men violent 🤣 seriously tho the fact that Jess and Slim were just constantly beating each other up throughout this entire episode before they decided to try running a ranch together is the funniest thing
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Everything about Bud Carlin irritates me, the way he speaks, the way he moves, his whole demeanor, I just hate it 😂
When Carlin’s asking about how long it takes the stage to get there once it’s in sight and Jonesy’s just out here throwing in a bunch of random circumstances to avoid answering 🤣 and then Carlin gets so irritated that he decides to ask Jess instead lol but Andy just immediately telling him what he wants to know so Jess doesn’t get hurt 😭 bless his little heart AND JONESY REACHING HIS ARM OUT TO GRAB THE GUY WHEN HE WENT TO PUNCH JESS Jonesy's a real one
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When Jess and Andy are out in the barn shoeing the horse and Andy tries to grab a rifle and Jess stops him cuz he didn’t want him to get hurt 😭
Oh when Carlin makes Jess punch Slim in the face… like we know they were about to go at it when he walked in but now Jess is like no way, the friendship is progressing you guys, and poor Slim was just like "do it", somebody get this poor man some ice and an ibuprofen
But as soon as Carlin makes Jess hit Slim that third time he turned on Carlin so fast
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Andy’s voice was almost breaking when he saw Slim laying on the ground and he was trying to wake him up and it almost broke me 😭
The way they all go to check on Slim as soon as the guy leaves the room 🥺
Andy was just begging Jess to go with Slim so that he’d have some help and Jess wouldn’t go and then Andy has tears in his eyes and says “No wonder you travel alone, who’d wanna team up with a saddle tramp like you?” nooooooo 😭 I really act like I’ve never seen this episode before also Jess saddle tramp count is now at 2
They really just threw that guy out of the stagecoach, that wasn’t very nice
JESS CAME BACK yes I already knew this would happen, hush your timing is impeccable pally
Look at these idiots (affectionate) 😂
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Alright I'm gonna write out this scene for you because Reasons (once again in color so it's easier to differentiate):
Pete: I’m hurt bad, Jess. Don’t shoot.
Jess: I was hurt bad too. And it wasn’t just the money Pete.
Pete: I didn’t take it Jess. I swear I didn’t
*Pete proceeds to grab for his gun and Jess shoots him again, sending him flying off the cliff*
So satisfying yall also that dialogue though, I sense another fic in the future
Not the fanning of the guns, ugh I hate when they do that and Jess does it all the time
I love how Jess just puts his gun away and lets Slim deal with Carlin on his own, the way he just saunters over while they’re fist fighting and the way they replay the bit Carlin pulled on them when he made Jess hit Slim, sheer perfection 🤣
Aw Andy was so excited to see Jess and Slim back safely 🥺
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Friendship has been established pallies, that is what we call ✨character development✨
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Also if you haven’t noticed I’m a tad bit obsessed with Jess ok maybe more than a tad so here’s some bonus gifs of him being sassy 😂❤️
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airadam · 10 months ago
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Episode 176 : It's Goin' Down...
"I AM"
- Chuck D
Hope you've had a good start to 2024! While it's been a bit bumpy over here, the selection on the first episode of the year is strong from start to finish. If you know every single one of these tracks already...we should probably have a chat as you clearly have an ear for the good stuff! 
Mastodon : @[email protected]
Twitch : @airadam13
Playlist/Notes
Organized Noize ft. Big Boi, Big Rube, Sleepy Brown, and Cee-Lo : We The Ones
A very fortunate find during a recent digging expedition, I didn't even know that the "Organized Noize EP" existed until I had it in my hands. Looking around on Discogs, it seems that it was a limited release in 2017 of 500 copies, on fiery orange vinyl and with a fantastic cover. Apparently twenty years in the making - probably because the production team behind OutKast, Goodie Mob, and more were kind of busy - it's a quality seven-song collection that you can now also get digitally! I heard a few seconds of this track at the listening post and it was the one that convinced me to buy the record, a musically-stirring and always-relevant and timely call to stand up and fight against oppression.
Orbital : Adnan's
This industrial-sounding track from the 1996 "In Sides" album was an extended version of a song they contributed to the 1995 "War Child" charity LP, and was named after a young boy who was killed by a missile during the war in the former Yugoslavia. Paul Hartnoll of Orbital broke this, and the rest of the album, down in a way only one of the creators could - so I'll link you to his own words.
Sepalot ft. Blu : Surrender
I've heard the instrumental of this many a time and had actually forgotten that there even was a vocal version! The beat went down well on the most recent #BeatsOnly show on my Twitch channel, so I thought I'd bring it out on this episode. The angular production from German producer Sepalot lurches, twitches, and squelches, with Blu fittingly being a bit more aggro lyrically than you might have expected from some of his better-known work. I have this on the B-side of a 12" headed up by "She Likes Me" with Frank Nitty, but you can also find it on the 2014 "Red Handed" LP.
Jigmastas ft. Shabaam Saadique : Too Ill
Does what it says on the tin! DJ Spinna on production on this track with the dramatic backing, courtesy of a well-known old TV show sample, while the processing on the vocals makes it sound like weak MCs are being admonished over the phone! By the way, the spelling of Shabaam's name is different than what I've seen on previous releases, but as it's written this way on this album ("Resurgence") I'm taking that as being correct unless/until I find out otherwise.
Public Enemy : Louder Than A Bomb
A classic from what is often said to be the greatest Hip-Hop album of all time, "It Takes A Nation Of Millions To Hold Us Back" (lot of text to write on a cassette label btw). Those who follow me know I'll sometimes refer to the more grimy records as "not calling for the building of a new nation or anything" but this track literally does! Chuck D will always be the first name that comes to mind when pro-Black, politically-driven Hip-Hop is mentioned, and this is just one of his outstanding vocal performances. Bomb Squad on production of course, with a hard-hitting track that would dominate most other MCs, even now. Sonically, you might notice that the sound is busy but not "thick" - if it was made nowadays, I suspect it'd be mixed with a lot more bass, not to mention built with more high-fidelity samplers. Would that have been "better"? Hard to say, but this is revolutionary in all senses regardless. 
Bumpy Knuckles & DJ Premier : B.A.P. (Bumpy and Premier)
For those of more gentle dispositions, you may as well skip to the next track! Otherwise, this is quintessential boom-bap rawness, courtesy of DJ Premier - one of the finest exponents of the style - and fellow Gang Starr Foundation MC Bumpy Knuckles. Wicked track from the "KoleXXXion" LP, where Bumpy starts each verse with the same four bars, before raining fire on snakes, suckers, and studio gangstas over the rugged beat. No sir, Bumpy did not fall off, not even a little.
Stro Elliot : Miles Funk
I may have been late getting on the Stro Elliot train, only hearing his stuff in the last three years or so, but now I'm firmly on board and settled with a book and some snacks. The drums are cracking and merciless on this track from his 2016 eponymous LP, and they lead the way for the bassline and funky guitar to do what they do. Definitely check the album - it's really excellent work.
Dubbul O & Jointhedots : Life:Mics
A great new Manchester release to open the year! You should already know that Dubbul O is one of my favourite MCs from any coast or territory, while the excellent Jointhedots have been holding it down in fine style since most of the members were part of the best-known lineup of The Mouse Outfit. The most special feature on this track is the guitar of the much-missed Phil Ratcliffe, who sadly passed away in 2022, and whose family will continue to benefit from any posthumous releases. Coming together over the peak of the COVID restrictions, this track started when bassist/bandleader/producer Defty sent beats around Manchester for musicians to add their own touches to. As well as Phil Ratcliffe, the flautist Dr Claire Press got busy on here - you may remember her memorable work alongside Dubbul O again on "Never Get Enough" all the way back in 2012! Flavourful and polished music as always from this collective, and worthy of your support.
New Sector Movements ft. Allysha Joy : These Times
Neither of these artists were on my radar previously, so it was a big bonus when First Word Records included this cut on the "Two Syllables Volume Twenty" compilation! As it turns out, New Sector Movements is actually an alias of IG Culture, a UK stalwart respected for his work as part of Dodge City Productions, and of course he shows the deft touch of a veteran on the music here. The vocals are carried by the powerful voice of Australian songstress Allysha Joy, who started singing as a youngster in the church and you can hear the influence very much still with her! This track in full is actually about six minutes long, so if you like what you're hearing, you know what to do...
Common : The Movement
I'll have you know that I did actually mix this in bang-on, but J Dilla decided to go all the way weird with the timing and drum placement at the start, to the point I almost re-ripped the tune from the "2K6 : The Tracks" CD to be sure! This one had somehow escaped me on first listen, but it's got that electronic sound that was increasingly a feature of Dilla's late work, with that edginess contrasting with Common's smooth and familiar voice.
Actual Proof ft. TP : Show You The Way
North Carolina in the house, with Actual Proof (Enigma and Sundown) linking with guest TP (who I don't know much about) for a 9th Wonder-produced track that sounds very different than the intro might lead you to expect. Lyrically, in places it almost comes off as a rougher, less civilised take on "Mind Sex" by dead prez, blended with some of that LL Cool J - in attitude, if not in flow! Track down the 2012 "Black Boy Radio" LP for this one.
Mecca:83, Buscrates, and J Vibes : Amber Hue
Such warm vibes emanate from this 2019 composition, with Macclesfield, Pittsburgh, and Aarhus (Denmark) in collaboration. I don't know who did what, but the final result is a thing of beauty!
Tall Black Guy, Craig Mack : Flavor In Ya Ear Remix
The original beat by Easy Mo Bee is one of the greatest in Hip-Hop history in my opinion, so it takes a brave man to put his production in its place - and right here, Tall Black Guy is that man! Tough drums and a relatively simple bassline provide the structure for some spaced-out touches and soul vocal sampling to undergird TBG's take on one of the all-time great posse cuts.
1773 & Strange Soul Music : Dialed In
Manchester's Strange Soul Music is a fearsome producer, the man no-one wanted to face in last year's WORKINONIT beat battle! He's been putting in that work for years and this is from one of his latest releases, "The Strange Soul Project" a seven-track collaboration with Chicago MCs Jay Nagoma and Wisdm Uno. Themed around a method of internet access that might be unfamiliar to the younger listeners, this is a brief, but strong, opener to the project.
Clear Soul Forces : Nine 5ive
It's a shame that the 2020 "ForcesWithYou" LP is ostensibly the last from this Detroit crew - their stuff has always been energetically high-quality. Ilajide on the beat of course, while on the mic, CSF reference everything/one from Busta Rhymes to Mortal Kombat via George Washington Carver in a track that lasts well under three minutes. May the force be with them, indeed.
Heather B : Steady Rockin'
Straight-ahead Hip-Hop, with the commanding voice and bars of Heather B over the boom-bap production of DJ Premier. Vocalist Twyla adds a little sugar to the hook, but the rest of this track from 2002's "Eternal Affairs" is pretty much as stripped-down as you can get.
Khrysis : The Devil Wears Designer (Instrumental)
North Carolina representing again here, with a groove borrowing clearly from a classic soul record on this instrumental from "The Hour Of Khrysis".
DJ 2-Tone Jones ft. Prince Po, Asheru, Joe.D and yU : Not Down
I've always thought that one of the most important inflection points in the culture was when our ability to self-police was countered by the epithet "playa hater", which nowadays is more likely to take the form of "but he getting the bag tho". This call to arms from the "Contraband From India" LP features real MCs with real commitment letting us know that the leeches, the culture vultures, exploitative corporate interests of various shapes, and everyone else taking away from the culture rather than adding on need to be ejected. The production is not minimal as such, but well-spaced, with the sparse drum pattern and Indian string samples avoiding a situation where the instrumental ends up fighting the MCs for the spotlight, which is critical when what they're saying is of actual importance.
Please remember to support the artists you like! The purpose of putting the podcast out and providing the full tracklist is to try and give some light, so do use the songs on each episode as a starting point to search out more material. If you have Spotify in your country it's a great way to explore, but otherwise there's always Youtube and the like. Seeing your favourite artists live is the best way to put money in their pockets, and buy the vinyl/CDs/downloads of the stuff you like the most!
Check out this episode!
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qqueenofhades · 3 years ago
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The Green Knight and Medieval Metatextuality: An Essay
Right, so. Finally watched it last night, and I’ve been thinking about it literally ever since, except for the part where I was asleep. As I said to fellow medievalist and admirer of Dev Patel @oldshrewsburyian, it’s possibly the most fascinating piece of medieval-inspired media that I’ve seen in ages, and how refreshing to have something in this genre that actually rewards critical thought and deep analysis, rather than me just fulminating fruitlessly about how popular media thinks that slapping blood, filth, and misogyny onto some swords and castles is “historically accurate.” I read a review of TGK somewhere that described it as the anti-Game of Thrones, and I’m inclined to think that’s accurate. I didn’t agree with all of the film’s tonal, thematic, or interpretative choices, but I found them consistently stylish, compelling, and subversive in ways both small and large, and I’m gonna have to write about it or I’ll go crazy. So. Brace yourselves.
(Note: My PhD is in medieval history, not medieval literature, and I haven’t worked on SGGK specifically, but I am familiar with it, its general cultural context, and the historical influences, images, and debates that both the poem and the film referenced and drew upon, so that’s where this meta is coming from.)
First, obviously, while the film is not a straight-up text-to-screen version of the poem (though it is by and large relatively faithful), it is a multi-layered meta-text that comments on the original Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, the archetypes of chivalric literature as a whole, modern expectations for medieval films, the hero’s journey, the requirements of being an “honorable knight,” and the nature of death, fate, magic, and religion, just to name a few. Given that the Arthurian legendarium, otherwise known as the Matter of Britain, was written and rewritten over several centuries by countless authors, drawing on and changing and hybridizing interpretations that sometimes challenged or outright contradicted earlier versions, it makes sense for the film to chart its own path and make its own adaptational decisions as part of this multivalent, multivocal literary canon. Sir Gawain himself is a canonically and textually inconsistent figure; in the movie, the characters merrily pronounce his name in several different ways, most notably as Sean Harris/King Arthur’s somewhat inexplicable “Garr-win.” He might be a man without a consistent identity, but that’s pointed out within the film itself. What has he done to define himself, aside from being the king’s nephew? Is his quixotic quest for the Green Knight actually going to resolve the question of his identity and his honor – and if so, is it even going to matter, given that successful completion of the “game” seemingly equates with death?
Likewise, as the anti-Game of Thrones, the film is deliberately and sometimes maddeningly non-commercial. For an adaptation coming from a studio known primarily for horror, it almost completely eschews the cliché that gory bloodshed equals authentic medievalism; the only graphic scene is the Green Knight’s original beheading. The violence is only hinted at, subtextual, suspenseful; it is kept out of sight, around the corner, never entirely played out or resolved. In other words, if anyone came in thinking that they were going to watch Dev Patel luridly swashbuckle his way through some CGI monsters like bad Beowulf adaptations of yore, they were swiftly disappointed. In fact, he seems to spend most of his time being wet, sad, and failing to meet the moment at hand (with a few important exceptions).
The film unhurriedly evokes a medieval setting that is both surreal and defiantly non-historical. We travel (in roughly chronological order) from Anglo-Saxon huts to Romanesque halls to high-Gothic cathedrals to Tudor villages and half-timbered houses, culminating in the eerie neo-Renaissance splendor of the Lord and Lady’s hall, before returning to the ancient trees of the Green Chapel and its immortal occupant: everything that has come before has now returned to dust. We have been removed even from imagined time and place and into a moment where it ceases to function altogether. We move forward, backward, and sideways, as Gawain experiences past, present, and future in unison. He is dislocated from his own sense of himself, just as we, the viewers, are dislocated from our sense of what is the “true” reality or filmic narrative; what we think is real turns out not to be the case at all. If, of course, such a thing even exists at all.
This visual evocation of the entire medieval era also creates a setting that, unlike GOT, takes pride in rejecting absolutely all political context or Machiavellian maneuvering. The film acknowledges its own cultural ubiquity and the question of whether we really need yet another King Arthur adaptation: none of the characters aside from Gawain himself are credited by name. We all know it’s Arthur, but he’s listed only as “king.” We know the spooky druid-like old man with the white beard is Merlin, but it’s never required to spell it out. The film gestures at our pre-existing understanding; it relies on us to fill in the gaps, cuing us to collaboratively produce the story with it, positioning us as listeners as if we were gathered to hear the original poem. Just like fanfiction, it knows that it doesn’t need to waste time introducing every single character or filling in ultimately unnecessary background knowledge, when the audience can be relied upon to bring their own.
As for that, the film explicitly frames itself as a “filmed adaptation of the chivalric romance” in its opening credits, and continues to play with textual referents and cues throughout: telling us where we are, what’s happening, or what’s coming next, rather like the rubrics or headings within a medieval manuscript. As noted, its historical/architectural references span the entire medieval European world, as does its costume design. I was particularly struck by the fact that Arthur and Guinevere’s crowns resemble those from illuminated monastic manuscripts or Eastern Orthodox iconography: they are both crown and halo, they confer an air of both secular kingship and religious sanctity. The question in the film’s imagined epilogue thus becomes one familiar to Shakespeare’s Henry V: heavy is the head that wears the crown. Does Gawain want to earn his uncle’s crown, take over his place as king, bear the fate of Camelot, become a great ruler, a husband and father in ways that even Arthur never did, only to see it all brought to dust by his cowardice, his reliance on unscrupulous sorcery, and his unfulfilled promise to the Green Knight? Is it better to have that entire life and then lose it, or to make the right choice now, even if it means death?
Likewise, Arthur’s kingly mantle is Byzantine in inspiration, as is the icon of the Virgin Mary-as-Theotokos painted on Gawain’s shield (which we see broken apart during the attack by the scavengers). The film only glances at its religious themes rather than harping on them explicitly; we do have the cliché scene of the male churchmen praying for Gawain’s safety, opposite Gawain’s mother and her female attendants working witchcraft to protect him. (When oh when will I get my film that treats medieval magic and medieval religion as the complementary and co-existing epistemological systems that they were, rather than portraying them as diametrically binary and disparagingly gendered opposites?) But despite the interim setbacks borne from the failure of Christian icons, the overall resolution of the film could serve as the culmination of a medieval Christian morality tale: Gawain can buy himself a great future in the short term if he relies on the protection of the enchanted green belt to avoid the Green Knight’s killing stroke, but then he will have to watch it all crumble until he is sitting alone in his own hall, his children dead and his kingdom destroyed, as a headless corpse who only now has been brave enough to accept his proper fate. By removing the belt from his person in the film’s Inception-like final scene, he relinquishes the taint of black magic and regains his religious honor, even at the likely cost of death. That, the medieval Christian morality tale would agree, is the correct course of action.
Gawain’s encounter with St. Winifred likewise presents a more subtle vision of medieval Christianity. Winifred was an eighth-century Welsh saint known for being beheaded, after which (by the power of another saint) her head was miraculously restored to her body and she went on to live a long and holy life. It doesn’t quite work that way in TGK. (St Winifred’s Well is mentioned in the original SGGK, but as far as I recall, Gawain doesn’t meet the saint in person.) In the film, Gawain encounters Winifred’s lifelike apparition, who begs him to dive into the mere and retrieve her head (despite appearances, she warns him, it is not attached to her body). This fits into the pattern of medieval ghost stories, where the dead often return to entreat the living to help them finish their business; they must be heeded, but when they are encountered in places they shouldn’t be, they must be put back into their proper physical space and reminded of their real fate. Gawain doesn’t follow William of Newburgh’s practical recommendation to just fetch some brawny young men with shovels to beat the wandering corpse back into its grave. Instead, in one of his few moments of unqualified heroism, he dives into the dark water and retrieves Winifred’s skull from the bottom of the lake. Then when he returns to the house, he finds the rest of her skeleton lying in the bed where he was earlier sleeping, and carefully reunites the skull with its body, finally allowing it to rest in peace.
However, Gawain’s involvement with Winifred doesn’t end there. The fox that he sees on the bank after emerging with her skull, who then accompanies him for the rest of the film, is strongly implied to be her spirit, or at least a companion that she has sent for him. Gawain has handled a saint’s holy bones; her relics, which were well known to grant protection in the medieval world. He has done the saint a service, and in return, she extends her favor to him. At the end of the film, the fox finally speaks in a human voice, warning him not to proceed to the fateful final encounter with the Green Knight; it will mean his death. The symbolism of having a beheaded saint serve as Gawain’s guide and protector is obvious, since it is the fate that may or may not lie in store for him. As I said, the ending is Inception-like in that it steadfastly refuses to tell you if the hero is alive (or will live) or dead (or will die). In the original SGGK, of course, the Green Knight and the Lord turn out to be the same person, Gawain survives, it was all just a test of chivalric will and honor, and a trap put together by Morgan Le Fay in an attempt to frighten Guinevere. It’s essentially able to be laughed off: a game, an adventure, not real. TGK takes this paradigm and flips it (to speak…) on its head.
Gawain’s rescue of Winifred’s head also rewards him in more immediate terms: his/the Green Knight’s axe, stolen by the scavengers, is miraculously restored to him in her cottage, immediately and concretely demonstrating the virtue of his actions. This is one of the points where the film most stubbornly resists modern storytelling conventions: it simply refuses to add in any kind of “rational” or “empirical” explanation of how else it got there, aside from the grace and intercession of the saint. This is indeed how it works in medieval hagiography: things simply reappear, are returned, reattached, repaired, made whole again, and Gawain’s lost weapon is thus restored, symbolizing that he has passed the test and is worthy to continue with the quest. The film’s narrative is not modernizing its underlying medieval logic here, and it doesn’t particularly care if a modern audience finds it “convincing” or not. As noted, the film never makes any attempt to temporalize or localize itself; it exists in a determinedly surrealist and ahistorical landscape, where naked female giants who look suspiciously like Tilda Swinton roam across the wild with no necessary explanation. While this might be frustrating for some people, I actually found it a huge relief that a clearly fantastic and fictional literary adaptation was not acting like it was qualified to teach “real history” to its audience. Nobody would come out of TGK thinking that they had seen the “actual” medieval world, and since we have enough of a problem with that sort of thing thanks to GOT, I for one welcome the creation of a medieval imaginative space that embraces its eccentric and unrealistic elements, rather than trying to fit them into the Real Life box.
This plays into the fact that the film, like a reused medieval manuscript containing more than one text, is a palimpsest: for one, it audaciously rewrites the entire Arthurian canon in the wordless vision of Gawain’s life after escaping the Green Knight (I could write another meta on that dream-epilogue alone). It moves fluidly through time and creates alternate universes in at least two major points: one, the scene where Gawain is tied up and abandoned by the scavengers and that long circling shot reveals his skeletal corpse rotting on the sward, only to return to our original universe as Gawain decides that he doesn’t want that fate, and two, Gawain as King. In this alternate ending, Arthur doesn’t die in battle with Mordred, but peaceably in bed, having anointed his worthy nephew as his heir. Gawain becomes king, has children, gets married, governs Camelot, becomes a ruler surpassing even Arthur, but then watches his son get killed in battle, his subjects turn on him, and his family vanish into the dust of his broken hall before he himself, in despair, pulls the enchanted scarf out of his clothing and succumbs to his fate.
In this version, Gawain takes on the responsibility for the fall of Camelot, not Arthur. This is the hero’s burden, but he’s obtained it dishonorably, by cheating. It is a vivid but mimetic future which Gawain (to all appearances) ultimately rejects, returning the film to the realm of traditional Arthurian canon – but not quite. After all, if Gawain does get beheaded after that final fade to black, it would represent a significant alteration from the poem and the character’s usual arc. Are we back in traditional canon or aren’t we? Did Gawain reject that future or didn’t he? Do all these alterities still exist within the visual medium of the meta-text, and have any of them been definitely foreclosed?
Furthermore, the film interrogates itself and its own tropes in explicit and overt ways. In Gawain’s conversation with the Lord, the Lord poses the question that many members of the audience might have: is Gawain going to carry out this potentially pointless and suicidal quest and then be an honorable hero, just like that? What is he actually getting by staggering through assorted Irish bogs and seeming to reject, rather than embrace, the paradigms of a proper quest and that of an honorable knight? He lies about being a knight to the scavengers, clearly out of fear, and ends up cravenly bound and robbed rather than fighting back. He denies knowing anything about love to the Lady (played by Alicia Vikander, who also plays his lover at the start of the film with a decidedly ropey Yorkshire accent, sorry to say). He seems to shrink from the responsibility thrust on him, rather than rise to meet it (his only honorable act, retrieving Winifred’s head, is discussed above) and yet here he still is, plugging away. Why is he doing this? What does he really stand to gain, other than accepting a choice and its consequences (somewhat?) The film raises these questions, but it has no plans to answer them. It’s going to leave you to think about them for yourself, and it isn’t going to spoon-feed you any ultimate moral or neat resolution. In this interchange, it’s easy to see both the echoes of a formal dialogue between two speakers (a favored medieval didactic tactic) and the broader purpose of chivalric literature: to interrogate what it actually means to be a knight, how personal honor is generated, acquired, and increased, and whether engaging in these pointless and bloody “war games” is actually any kind of real path to lasting glory.
The film’s treatment of race, gender, and queerness obviously also merits comment. By casting Dev Patel, an Indian-born actor, as an Arthurian hero, the film is… actually being quite accurate to the original legends, doubtless much to the disappointment of assorted internet racists. The thirteenth-century Arthurian romance Parzival (Percival) by the German poet Wolfram von Eschenbach notably features the character of Percival’s mixed-race half-brother, Feirefiz, son of their father by his first marriage to a Muslim princess. Feirefiz is just as heroic as Percival (Gawaine, for the record, also plays a major role in the story) and assists in the quest for the Holy Grail, though it takes his conversion to Christianity for him to properly behold it.
By introducing Patel (and Sarita Chowdhury as Morgause) to the visual representation of Arthuriana, the film quietly does away with the “white Middle Ages” cliché that I have complained about ad nauseam; we see background Asian and black members of Camelot, who just exist there without having to conjure up some complicated rationale to explain their presence. The Lady also uses a camera obscura to make Gawain’s portrait. Contrary to those who might howl about anachronism, this technique was known in China as early as the fourth century BCE and the tenth/eleventh century Islamic scholar Ibn al-Haytham was probably the best-known medieval authority to write on it extensively; Latin translations of his work inspired European scientists from Roger Bacon to Leonardo da Vinci. Aside from the symbolism of an upside-down Gawain (and when he sees the portrait again during the ‘fall of Camelot’, it is right-side-up, representing that Gawain himself is in an upside-down world), this presents a subtle challenge to the prevailing Eurocentric imagination of the medieval world, and draws on other global influences.
As for gender, we have briefly touched on it above; in the original SGGK, Gawain’s entire journey is revealed to be just a cruel trick of Morgan Le Fay, simply trying to destabilize Arthur’s court and upset his queen. (Morgan is the old blindfolded woman who appears in the Lord and Lady’s castle and briefly approaches Gawain, but her identity is never explicitly spelled out.) This is, obviously, an implicitly misogynistic setup: an evil woman plays a trick on honorable men for the purpose of upsetting another woman, the honorable men overcome it, the hero survives, and everyone presumably lives happily ever after (at least until Mordred arrives).
Instead, by plunging the outcome into doubt and the hero into a much darker and more fallible moral universe, TGK shifts the blame for Gawain’s adventure and ultimate fate from Morgan to Gawain himself. Likewise, Guinevere is not the passive recipient of an evil deception but in a way, the catalyst for the whole thing. She breaks the seal on the Green Knight’s message with a weighty snap; she becomes the oracle who reads it out, she is alarming rather than alarmed, she disrupts the complacency of the court and silently shows up all the other knights who refuse to step forward and answer the Green Knight’s challenge. Gawain is not given the ontological reassurance that it’s just a practical joke and he’s going to be fine (and thanks to the unresolved ending, neither are we). The film instead takes the concept at face value in order to push the envelope and ask the simple question: if a man was going to be actually-for-real beheaded in a year, why would he set out on a suicidal quest? Would you, in Gawain’s place, make the same decision to cast aside the enchanted belt and accept your fate? Has he made his name, will he be remembered well? What is his legacy?
Indeed, if there is any hint of feminine connivance and manipulation, it arrives in the form of the implication that Gawain’s mother has deliberately summoned the Green Knight to test her son, prove his worth, and position him as his childless uncle’s heir; she gives him the protective belt to make sure he won’t actually die, and her intention all along was for the future shown in the epilogue to truly play out (minus the collapse of Camelot). Only Gawain loses the belt thanks to his cowardice in the encounter with the scavengers, regains it in a somewhat underhanded and morally questionable way when the Lady is attempting to seduce him, and by ultimately rejecting it altogether and submitting to his uncertain fate, totally mucks up his mother’s painstaking dynastic plans for his future. In this reading, Gawain could be king, and his mother’s efforts are meant to achieve that goal, rather than thwart it. He is thus required to shoulder his own responsibility for this outcome, rather than conveniently pawning it off on an “evil woman,” and by extension, the film asks the question: What would the world be like if men, especially those who make war on others as a way of life, were actually forced to face the consequences of their reckless and violent actions? Is it actually a “game” in any sense of the word, especially when chivalric literature is constantly preoccupied with the question of how much glorious violence is too much glorious violence? If you structure social prestige for the king and the noble male elite entirely around winning battles and existing in a state of perpetual war, when does that begin to backfire and devour the knightly class – and the rest of society – instead?
This leads into the central theme of Gawain’s relationships with the Lord and Lady, and how they’re treated in the film. The poem has been repeatedly studied in terms of its latent (and sometimes… less than latent) queer subtext: when the Lord asks Gawain to pay back to him whatever he should receive from his wife, does he already know what this involves; i.e. a physical and romantic encounter? When the Lady gives kisses to Gawain, which he is then obliged to return to the Lord as a condition of the agreement, is this all part of a dastardly plot to seduce him into a kinky green-themed threesome with a probably-not-human married couple looking to spice up their sex life? Why do we read the Lady’s kisses to Gawain as romantic but Gawain’s kisses to the Lord as filial, fraternal, or the standard “kiss of peace” exchanged between a liege lord and his vassal? Is Gawain simply being a dutiful guest by honoring the bargain with his host, actually just kissing the Lady again via the proxy of her husband, or somewhat more into this whole thing with the Lord than he (or the poet) would like to admit? Is the homosocial turning homoerotic, and how is Gawain going to navigate this tension and temptation?
If the question is never resolved: well, welcome to one of the central medieval anxieties about chivalry, knighthood, and male bonds! As I have written about before, medieval society needed to simultaneously exalt this as the most honored and noble form of love, and make sure it didn’t accidentally turn sexual (once again: how much male love is too much male love?). Does the poem raise the possibility of serious disruption to the dominant heteronormative paradigm, only to solve the problem by interpreting the Gawain/Lady male/female kisses as romantic and sexual and the Gawain/Lord male/male kisses as chaste and formal? In other words, acknowledging the underlying anxiety of possible homoeroticism but ultimately reasserting the heterosexual norm? The answer: Probably?!?! Maybe?!?! Hell if we know??! To say the least, this has been argued over to no end, and if you locked a lot of medieval history/literature scholars into a room and told them that they couldn’t come out until they decided on one clear answer, they would be in there for a very long time. The poem seemingly invokes the possibility of a queer reading only to reject it – but once again, as in the question of which canon we end up in at the film’s end, does it?
In some lights, the film’s treatment of this potential queer reading comes off like a cop-out: there is only one kiss between Gawain and the Lord, and it is something that the Lord has to initiate after Gawain has already fled the hall. Gawain himself appears to reject it; he tells the Lord to let go of him and runs off into the wilderness, rather than deal with or accept whatever has been suggested to him. However, this fits with film!Gawain’s pattern of rejecting that which fundamentally makes him who he is; like Peter in the Bible, he has now denied the truth three times. With the scavengers he denies being a knight; with the Lady he denies knowing about courtly love; with the Lord he denies the central bond of brotherhood with his fellows, whether homosocial or homoerotic in nature. I would go so far as to argue that if Gawain does die at the end of the film, it is this rejected kiss which truly seals his fate. In the poem, the Lord and the Green Knight are revealed to be the same person; in the film, it’s not clear if that’s the case, or they are separate characters, even if thematically interrelated. If we assume, however, that the Lord is in fact still the human form of the Green Knight, then Gawain has rejected both his kiss of peace (the standard gesture of protection offered from lord to vassal) and any deeper emotional bond that it can be read to signify. The Green Knight could decide to spare Gawain in recognition of the courage he has shown in relinquishing the enchanted belt – or he could just as easily decide to kill him, which he is legally free to do since Gawain has symbolically rejected the offer of brotherhood, vassalage, or knight-bonding by his unwise denial of the Lord’s freely given kiss. Once again, the film raises the overall thematic and moral question and then doesn’t give one straight (ahem) answer. As with the medieval anxieties and chivalric texts that it is based on, it invokes the specter of queerness and then doesn’t neatly resolve it. As a modern audience, we find this unsatisfying, but once again, the film is refusing to conform to our expectations.
As has been said before, there is so much kissing between men in medieval contexts, both ceremonial and otherwise, that we’re left to wonder: “is it gay or is it feudalism?” Is there an overtly erotic element in Gawain and the Green Knight’s mutual “beheading” of each other (especially since in the original version, this frees the Lord from his curse, functioning like a true love’s kiss in a fairytale). While it is certainly possible to argue that the film has “straightwashed” its subject material by removing the entire sequence of kisses between Gawain and the Lord and the unresolved motives for their existence, it is a fairly accurate, if condensed, representation of the anxieties around medieval knightly bonds and whether, as Carolyn Dinshaw put it, a (male/male) “kiss is just a kiss.” After all, the kiss between Gawain and the Lady is uncomplicatedly read as sexual/romantic, and that context doesn’t go away when Gawain is kissing the Lord instead. Just as with its multiple futurities, the film leaves the question open-ended. Is it that third and final denial that seals Gawain’s fate, and if so, is it asking us to reflect on why, specifically, he does so?
The film could play with both this question and its overall tone quite a bit more: it sometimes comes off as a grim, wooden, over-directed Shakespearean tragedy, rather than incorporating the lively and irreverent tone that the poem often takes. It’s almost totally devoid of humor, which is unfortunate, and the Grim Middle Ages aesthetic is in definite evidence. Nonetheless, because of the comprehensive de-historicizing and the obvious lack of effort to claim the film as any sort of authentic representation of the medieval past, it works. We are not meant to understand this as a historical document, and so we have to treat it on its terms, by its own logic, and by its own frames of reference. In some ways, its consistent opacity and its refusal to abide by modern rules and common narrative conventions is deliberately meant to challenge us: as before, when we recognize Arthur, Merlin, the Round Table, and the other stock characters because we know them already and not because the film tells us so, we have to fill in the gaps ourselves. We are watching the film not because it tells us a simple adventure story – there is, as noted, shockingly little action overall – but because we have to piece together the metatext independently and ponder the philosophical questions that it leaves us with. What conclusion do we reach? What canon do we settle in? What future or resolution is ultimately made real? That, the film says, it can’t decide for us. As ever, it is up to future generations to carry on the story, and decide how, if at all, it is going to survive.
(And to close, I desperately want them to make my much-coveted Bisclavret adaptation now in more or less the same style, albeit with some tweaks. Please.)
Further Reading
Ailes, Marianne J. ‘The Medieval Male Couple and the Language of Homosociality’, in Masculinity in Medieval Europe, ed. by Dawn M. Hadley (Harlow: Longman, 1999), pp. 214–37.
Ashton, Gail. ‘The Perverse Dynamics of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Arthuriana 15 (2005), 51–74.
Boyd, David L. ‘Sodomy, Misogyny, and Displacement: Occluding Queer Desire in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Arthuriana 8 (1998), 77–113.
Busse, Peter. ‘The Poet as Spouse of his Patron: Homoerotic Love in Medieval Welsh and Irish Poetry?’, Studi Celtici 2 (2003), 175–92.
Dinshaw, Carolyn. ‘A Kiss Is Just a Kiss: Heterosexuality and Its Consolations in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’, Diacritics 24 (1994), 205–226.
Kocher, Suzanne. ‘Gay Knights in Medieval French Fiction: Constructs of Queerness and Non-Transgression’, Mediaevalia 29 (2008), 51–66.
Karras, Ruth Mazo. ‘Knighthood, Compulsory Heterosexuality, and Sodomy’ in The Boswell Thesis: Essays on Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality, ed. Matthew Kuefler (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006), pp. 273–86.
Kuefler, Matthew. ‘Male Friendship and the Suspicion of Sodomy in Twelfth-Century France’, in The Boswell Thesis: Essays on Christianity, Social Tolerance, and Homosexuality, ed. Matthew Kuefler (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2006), pp. 179–214.
McVitty, E. Amanda, ‘False Knights and True Men: Contesting Chivalric Masculinity in English Treason Trials, 1388–1415,’ Journal of Medieval History 40 (2014), 458–77.
Mieszkowski, Gretchen. ‘The Prose Lancelot's Galehot, Malory's Lavain, and the Queering of Late Medieval Literature’, Arthuriana 5 (1995), 21–51.
Moss, Rachel E. ‘ “And much more I am soryat for my good knyghts’ ”: Fainting, Homosociality, and Elite Male Culture in Middle English Romance’, Historical Reflections / Réflexions historiques 42 (2016), 101–13.
Zeikowitz, Richard E. ‘Befriending the Medieval Queer: A Pedagogy for Literature Classes’, College English 65 (2002), 67–80.
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oneshot-wxnderland · 3 years ago
Text
Lab Partners With Benefits Pt. 3 | Percy Jackson
Summary: Another week, another lab and Y/n and Percy are feeling a different kind of tension this time.
Category: fluff 
Part 1 | Part 2
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          Percy had been kicking himself all week. He had forgotten to ask you for your number before you left his place and now you probably thought he was just some asshole looking for a one-time hookup. And he didn’t want that. And he hoped you didn’t want that either. But he wasn’t really sure what he wanted. 
         It’d been a hot minute since Percy was in any kind of relationship and he wasn’t sure if he was even the relationship kind. Even if he did want to be, his life just didn’t lend itself to dating mortals. There was always some monster popping up that he’d have to fight, or quest he’d have to go on, or emergency at camp he’d have to run off to, and Percy was a shit liar. It’s what messed up the last time he’d tried to date somebody. He was constantly blowing off dates and rain-checking everything because the gods are needy attention seekers. 
          He’d seen superhero movies before and related a lot to when they had similar issues. Percy’s not saying he’s Spiderman or anything, but he does live in New York and save it from constant peril – so yeah, he’s Spiderman. 
          This time, however, he was really considering trying again. Trying with you. And Percy had a plan. 
          Sliding into his seat when there were only a few other people in the room yet, Percy felt pumped up. He woke up early, showered, had a FaceTime with the boys to discuss the game plan, and got to class ahead of you so that he was ready to give you his number the first chance he got before he lost his nerve. That was part of Jason’s advice: offer his number to you instead of asking for yours. He claimed it would make Percy come off more vulnerable and less pushy. Leo mostly just spouted different cheesy lines that Percy would never use. Frank didn’t say much but Hazel piped in every now and then when she took the phone from him. 
          “So, you’re lab partners,” Hazel started. “Do you talk outside of your lab?”
          “No, that’s why I need her number.”
          “But you said you did homework together at your place right? So how’d that go? Did she seem interested?”
          Percy paused. 
          “Yeah, it went... fine.”
          Hazel was blissfully unaware of the blush that was creeping up his neck but Jason didn’t miss it. Or the way he suddenly needed to roll up his sleeves and fiddle with them. 
          “Did you just do the homework?” Jason asked suspiciously. 
          “We uh... kissed...” 
          “Niiiiiicee, Percy!” Leo hollered. “That’s my boy!”
          Frank retook the phone from Hazel and hastily gave an excuse to go before leaving the call and cutting off Hazel’s confused protests.
          “I don’t know what to tell you, man,” Jason shook his head. “This is way beyond my level now. Piper and Annabeth are nearby I’ll go get them-.”
          “No!” Percy cut him off. That’s the last thing he wanted. The girl’s won’t know or care what to do so they’d ask Piper’s siblings and then the entirety of camp would know. “It doesn’t really change anything. I’m going to give her my number and then the ball’s in her court and I don’t have to worry about it.”
          “But your balls were in her court, weren’t they Percy.” 
          “Leo I am going to kill you when I get back to camp and that is a threat.”
          Leo left the call.
          “I’m sure it’ll be fine, just don’t do your game-time face because it’ll scare her off,” Jason tried to get the conversation back on track.
          “What face? I don’t have a scary face?” Percy added another item to the list of things to not do when he saw her.
          “Yes you do. It’s when you’re charging into battle but this isn’t battle is it Percy?” 
          “You’re lucky,” Percy lamented while he grabbed his backpack. “You just woke up and were already with Piper. All the hard work done for you.” 
          “You got this man, just be yourself.” 
          Percy decided to throw that particular bit of garbage advice away. 
          Now he was sitting in his seat, got there early, and he was even wearing his nice t-shirt, so what could go wrong.
          As soon as you walked in the door all of his carefully curated bravado deflated inside of him. You walked towards your shared table and he had to expel childish nerves he hadn’t felt in years. He’s in college now, for Hades’ sake. He was a man.
          “Hey,” you greeted as you sat down.
          “Hi.” That was stupid. Men don’t say ‘hi’. He should’ve said ‘hey’ back.
          “You’re here early,” you commented and Percy just nodded like an idiot. 
          The plan was to giver you his number as soon as he saw you, but he couldn’t just blurt that out of nowhere. 
          “How’ve you been?” 
          There. Establishing a conversation and definitely not stalling.
          “I’ve been good.” The small amused smile on your face calmed him down a little. He’s got this.
          Class started before he could slip his number in casually but Percy wasn’t deterred. He wasn’t going to let geology get in his way.
                    While you were reading the data you had to chart on the graph, you noticed Percy’s usual fidgeting get even worse. Glancing at him from the corner of your eye, you saw him concentrating intensely on the paper and trying to contain his frustration. You recognized the signs since one of your friends has dyslexia, but you knew he wouldn’t ask for help.
          “So we have to plot the points on the graph and then draw the elevation lines, right?” You asked casually, looking over to him for confirmation. He nodded his head, but still continued to squint at the numbers which all were very small print and close to each other.
         Muttering the numbers as if to yourself but loud enough for him to hear, you got to work. 
          Percy sat back and smiled a little, knowing what you were doing. He looked over at you, from your furrowed brow to your crossed legs bouncing with your tapping foot. With a contented sigh, he recalled what it felt like to be in between those legs. Having them wrapped around his hips while you moaned his name. 
          His eyes trailed up your body, memories that were attached to each part flooding through him like a highlight reel of his deepest fantasies. Then he got to your bare arms and the goosebumps on the skin shook him out of it.
          “Cold?” he asked, interrupting you trying to help him which he really should have been listening to. 
          “Yeah, a little.” 
          “Here.” Percy shrugged off his hoodie and held it out to you before pausing (and slightly panicking.)
          Hold up, is this weird? Am I being weird right now? Should giving her my hoodie come before or after we exchange numbers? I guess doing it before could be a good test of whether she would be interested in exchanging numbers. But this is couple stuff. Her wearing my hoodie. That usually comes after numbers. But she’s cold now and I can’t seem like an asshole withholding warmth unless she accepts or declines my number. 
           Luckily, you didn’t seem to notice his panic as you took the hoodie from him without hesitation and put it on. “Thanks.”
          He calmed down as he watched you roll up the sleeves so that your hands were free to work and he felt a different kind of warmth spread through him. He liked the way you looked in his hoodie. 
          You caught him watching you and it threw you off. This wasn’t the heated gaze that had made you melt before, this was... softer. But the moment was ruined when you glanced down and saw that he hadn’t drawn a single point yet.
          “Hey,” you tapped your pencil on his paper. “Focus.”
          “Sorry.”
          You worked well together for a while. The rhythm of plotting points distracted Percy from his nerves. That is until he felt your hand on his forearm.
          “What’s this?” You asked, finger tracing the SPQR of his tattoo and making him shiver.
          “Oh, it’s a band.” 
          “What band?”
          “The Super Popular... Cool Rockers.”
          “They spell Cool with a Q?”
          “That’s what makes it cool.”
          “Ah.”
          Percy went back to the worksheet, congratulating himself on his quick thinking when he saw you pull out your phone. 
          “What are you doing?” he asked, totally nonchalant. 
          “Looking up the Super Popular Qool Rockers.”
          Percy snatched your phone. 
          “Oh, you won’t find them.” He dodged your attempts to grab it. “They’re really underground.”
          “You’ll be really underground if you don’t give me my phone back.” Percy hastily returned your phone, as if the threat scared him. You tried to glare at him, but found it too hard to suppress your smile once his broke out. “Thank you. Now will you tell me what it really means?”
          “Maybe one day.” People started packing their things and leaving since class had flown by faster than Percy liked. Sensing his window of opportunity closing he decided to Hades with it. “Depends if you go on a date with me.”
          You took your time standing up and gathering your things while pretending to mull it over in your head. Which Percy really did not appreciate. 
          “Maybe one day,” you answered him with a coquettish smile and took a few steps towards the door. “Well, aren’t you coming?”
          Percy was too concentrated on restraining a fist pump to puzzle out your meaning. 
          “We didn’t get much work done today, so we better finish what we started at your place.” You winked at him and strided out the door.
          With a mischievous grin, Percy was quick to follow. 
677 notes · View notes
americancowgirl19 · 3 years ago
Text
Artic Hoarfrost
Summary: Bill sends a letter to his brother Charlie about a rare dragon that turns out to be more than just a creature.
Warnings: Fluff, angst
Reader: Gender Neutral Reader
Pairings: Charlie Weasley x Gender Neutral Reader
Word Count: 2,083
A/n: It didn’t turn out as romantic as I would have liked. It’s more of a platonic story but it’s still good! I hope, lol... and yes I created the Artic Hoarfrost, I think it’s a cool name.
Masterlist
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Charlie was only studying in Romania for half a year when his older brother, Bill, sent him a letter. It had been a long time since Charlie had heard from him. The two brothers had been close growing up but now they were both out of Hogwarts pursuing different careers.
He opened the letter curiously but also excited. He missed his family but knew the distance would become easier with time. 
The letter started out simple. There were some casual questions and small talk before Bill got to the reason why he sent the letter. 
Around the same time Charlie was able to get a job in Romania Bill found a job as a curse beaker in Egypt. While at work Bill stumbled upon something that he thought Charlie should know.
In one of the crypts in Egypt there’s a dragon. It isn’t uncommon for Goblins to have dragons in their work areas. Charlie knew there is one in the Gringotts bank and it didn’t surprise him that there’s on in Egypt.
What does surprise him is the description Bill gives him. This isn’t a normal dragon but an Artic Hoarfrost. Charlie had thought the breed went extinct back before the first world war. To hear that there’s one captive in Egypt instantly intrigued him.
It was hard to convince his superiors to let him go to Egypt by himself. The sanctuary had just welcomed a new dragon. All hands were on deck to help the dragon integrate in the new habitat.
It wouldn’t be until another month later that Charlie was able to get some time to go to Egypt. As good as it was to see Bill again all Charlie could think about was the Hoarfrost. He had seen rough sketches of one before but to be able to see one in person would be amazing.
If Bill was right and the dragon truly is a Hoarfrost then Charlie knew he would have to convince the sanctuary to liberate the dragon from the Goblins. A Hoarfrost would slowly wither in the hot environment. 
“Why are they keeping the dragon here?” Charlie asks, following his brother through the desert to find the beast.
“Because it breathes ice and it’s hot,” Bill explains simply. Charlie sends him a look.
“They’re enslaving a dragon to keep themselves cool?” Charlie asks, not bothering to hide his anger.
“Which is why I sent the letter,” Bill says, sending him a glance. Charlie presses his lips together and nods.
“Oh, wow,” Charlie whispers, when they reach the dragon. 
The dragon is large but malnourished. After getting over the initial shock and beauty of the creature, Charlie notices injuries from the chains and the abuse the Goblins have no doubt forced it to endure.
“So, is it what you thought it was?” Bill wonders. The both of them watch as the wizard guards force the dragon to breathe it’s ice into different tunnels. These tunnels go to various work sites and buildings. While Bill enjoyed the cool air the dragon produced he would rather suffer the heat and have the dragon free.
“Looks like it,” Charlie mutters, clenching his fists when the dragon roars painfully. The wizards tasked with forcing the dragon to work used cruel spells that pierced right through it’s hide. “I want to get a closer look,” Charlie says, making a move to go closer but Bill holds him back.
“Not right now,” He says. “Those guard won’t let you close. We’ll have to wait for night fall,”
Grumbling, Charlie leaves with his brother counting down the hours until he can return. Bill did his best to distract his brother but Charlie was far too determined to go back.
He paced in Bill’s flat. His mind is reeling, all his thoughts centering around the dragon. He recalled all he knew about Hoarfrost’s, which wasn’t that much. A few things did strike out as peculiar. The dragon seemed to be half the size it should have been, which could be because of the conditions it is living in but Bill says the dragon has only been there for a few years. Such little time shouldn’t have stunted it’s growth.
Another thing that struck out to Charlie were the curses the wizards used. Those curses, while harmful, shouldn’t have penetrated the dragon’s armored hide as easily as it did.
Charlie couldn’t wait to return to the beast. He wanted a closer look. Hopefully he’d find some answers to the growing number of questions circling his head.
When Bill deemed it late enough, Charlie all but ran to the dragon. Bill struggled to keep up and was out of breath when they arrived. While Bill too deep breaths, Charlie approached the dragon.
The great beast was asleep. It’s curled around itself using their wings to cover as much of their body as possible. It’s an attempt to keep the coolness it’s body radiates to itself. While the room is cool it’s not nearly cold enough to healthily habituate the dragon.
“Charlie, be careful,” Bill warns. Charlie ignores him and continues closer to the beast. He freezes when it shifts. His heart hammers in his chest when the head emerges from under the wing. “Charlie,” Bill says, wanting his brother to come back but Charlie stays still.
A moment later it’s eyes open. A beautiful y/e/c stares right at him. Charlie waits trepidatiously for the dragon to react, to attack him, but it stays still. It’s eyes just stare and observe Charlie.
Charlie releases a shaky breath. He knew he wasn’t completely safe but he felt more comfortable. The dragon seemed calm but that could change. Charlie knew he should be cautious but he was simply too curious.
He takes a step closer but ends up stumbling backwards when the dragon’s entire body shifts. Their wings fold exposing more of the body. The tail comes around almost curving around Charlie and it’s head lifts to better assess him.
“Charlie!” Bill hisses. The dragon turns it’s attention toward Bill but remains unthreatening. Despite it’s calm composure Bill still takes large steps back.
“Will you calm down?” Charlie hisses back. “I know what I’m doing,”
“You’ve been around dragons for six months and now you’re an expert?” Bill snaps, keeping his eye on the beast.
“More so than you,” Charlie sasses.
“What exactly are you going to do?” Bill asks. “You got your closer look. Now let’s go,”
Bill had a point. Charlie got his closer look but he didn’t want to leave. This dragon was far too interesting to leave so soon.
Charlie ignores his brother and moves closer to the dragon. Bill releases a frustrated sigh. He was half tempted to go yank his brother away if he wasn’t so intimidated by the large dragon. He’s seen the beast encase more than one Goblin in ice before. He didn’t want that to be his fate but didn’t want it to be Charlie’s either.
The longer Charlie spent around the dragon the more unusual the beast seemed to be. It’s true that Charlie’s only spent roughly six months with real live dragons but he’s learned a great deal about their behavior in that time.
He remembers reading about Artic Hoarfrost’s at Hogwarts. It was well documented that their breed is territorial, aggressive and prefer their isolation. How did Goblins manage to capture and keep a dragon that’s well known for their aggression and untamableness?
Every moment spent with this dragon only raises more questions.
“Bill, what’s this collar around their neck?” Charlie asks, risking a few steps closer.
“I don’t know, probably something to keep the dragon in place,” Bill says, keeping his distance. Charlie didn’t believe that answer. Nothing is attached to the collar, it’s simply there around it’s neck.
Charlie turns his head and looks back into the dragon’s eye. There was something almost human to them.
Something human.
“Bloody hell,” Charlie whispers, his eyes widening. His heart drops to his stomach as a new theory races through his mind. “Bill, I don’t think this is a dragon,”
“What are you talking about, Charlie? That’s obviously a bloody dragon,” Bill snaps. Charlie shakes his head. “Charlie,” Bill scolds as his brother extends a hand toward the dragon.
“I’m telling you, Bill. This isn’t a dragon,” Charlie smiles sadly, as the dragon presses their snout against his head. “It’s an animagus,”
“What?” Bill asks. “You’re telling me that that’s a human?” Charlie nods his head, beckoning his brother forward.
“It’s far too small to be a hatched dragon. The hide is weaker and their eyes are human,” Charlie explains.
“How did they manage to do this?” Bill asks.
“I’m not sure,” Charlie mutters, his eyes going back to the collar. “But I think that’s how they’re keeping them,” Bill cautiously moves forward. He inspects the object.
“It’s definitely cursed,” Bill mutters.
“Can you break it?” Charlie asks.
“It’s going to take time,” Bill warns him. Charlie clenches his jaw but nods knowing there was no way around it. 
“Don’t worry, we’ll get you out,” Charlie promises the dragon. It huffs and curls back into itself again.
“Charlie, they’ve been a dragon for at least five years,” Bill tells him. “I’ve seen how they treat them. The transition back to human life isn’t going to be easy,”
“I know,” Charlie mutters, following him back to his flat. “Let’s just worry about getting them free first,”
“The ministry’s going to want to hear about this,” Bill mentions.
“They’ll be too worried about punishing those involved. They won’t be worried about their best interest. Let’s help the them and then go to the Ministry,” Bill nods in agreement.
Every night for nearly a month, Bill and Charlie go to break the curse on the collar. Well, Bill goes to break the curse while Charlie keeps the dragon company.
“Don’t worry, Bill will be done before you know it,” Charlie whispers, gently massaging some sensitive spots on on their head. He smiles when he hears a purr like sounds. Even Bill smiles, a bit happy to see that they’re enjoying themselves.
Charlie continues to talk softly and continues his massaging. Halfway through the night is when the collar falls to the floor. All three of them tense before Bill steps back.
The dragon slowly stands up. The sound of the chains clinking together gain Bill and Charlie’s attention. Together, the brothers use their wands to break the chains which further frees the animagus. 
Charlie and Bill both smile as the dragon stretches and tries to shake the soreness from their muscles. They both take a step back as it releases a mighty roar.
“We have to get them out of here,” Bill says. Before Charlie could agree, the guards come rushing in. The dragon glares at them and growls. They’re forced to take cover as the beast breathes a stream of ice crystals in their direction.
“We have to leave!” Charlie shouts. The dragon ignores him and continues to extract revenge. “Please! We have to go! The Ministry will deal with them, I promise! But you deserve to be free,”
The dragon turns to him. Charlie looks at them pleadingly. The dragon huffs and lowers their neck.
“I am not getting on,” Bill says. Charlie grins widely.
“Come on! Live a little!” Charlie runs toward it. Bill groans and follows his brother. Charlie holds on tightly with extreme excitement while Bill is extremely uneasy.
The dragon flies them out of the crypt. Bills screams in terror while Charlie hollers. They fly far away before the dragon drops back to the ground. Bill falls off and groans on the ground.
Charlie slides off gracefully and comes around to their face. The dragon bumps its snout against his chest causing Charlie to chuckle.
“You’re free now,” Charlie tells it. “You can do whatever you want,” The dragon looks genuinely confused breaking Charlie’s heart.
Before Charlie could say anything else, the dragon steps back. Charlie watches the beast begin to shrink before taking a human form. He looks at you for the first time.
You’re wearing a ratty shirt and torn shorts. Your legs support you for a few seconds before you collapse on the grass. Charlie rushes to you.
“Are you alright?” He asks quickly. You manage to smile at him.
“Th-thank you,” You stutter. He smiles at you. “Thank you so much,” You fall into his arms. His eyes widen a bit but he hugs you back.
“You’re safe now,” He promises. “You’re safe,”
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xx-thedarklord-xx · 3 years ago
Text
Is This On?
Also on Ao3
Muggle things weren’t that complicated. If Potter could master them, then so could Draco. Refrigerators were a godsend and whoever invented the telly was a genius. He had figured out the function of a light bulb instantly, it was the electricity itself that he still hadn’t fully grasped. Where did it come from? How did it know when to work? Some things, however, didn’t make any sense no matter how many times it was explained to him.
The internet.
Draco didn’t understand where it began, where it was located or how it worked. All he knew was that he could ask questions to the phone Harry gave him and it would answer back. Sometimes the lady trapped in the phone would send him to the internet to provide information or other times to a little telly inside the phone too.
Which led him to his current predicament.
Harry sometimes used the internet to talk to Granger. There was a little camera on the computer. At least that’s what Harry said but hadn’t really ever showed him much more than that. Could he use it to talk to Harry?
Draco poked the little camera several times, trying to get it to work. He typed in the password that Harry wrote down hoping that would help. When he was met with a photo of the two of them, he tried not to be endeared. Potter would be such a sentimental sap.
“How does this work?” Draco muttered to himself as he stared at the little icons. He couldn’t remember the steps Harry had taken to talk to Granger. Would it even work if he had remembered? He didn’t want to talk to Granger, he wanted to talk to Harry.
“Internet show me Harry.”
Nothing happened.
Draco huffed. It had been a long shot anyway. Reluctantly, Draco pulled out his phone and hit the button that brought out the lady inside. “How do I call on the internet?”
She repeated his question to him as if that was going to help somehow before he was brought to a list of options.
“Skype.” Draco wrinkled his nose. That didn’t sound familiar. He set his phone down and opened the same icon on the computer that his phone had brought him to and typed in Skype.
The first thing that popped up was a little telly. Harry called them videos, but Draco liked that they were little tellies and didn’t care what Harry said. The little telly was boring and showed him too many steps to follow. What drew his attention were more little tellies that he could select from. Some were about Skype too, but others were about all kinds of things.
Make-up. Music. Food. Books. Sports.
There were too many to choose from. So he watched several different little tellies. A lot of them were boring and he ended up either leaving for another one or skipping to the good stuff. Some people weren’t the actors that they thought they were. Honestly, where was the charisma? The charm? He could do it much better.
Draco paused, thumb over the mouse as he thought about it.
He could do it better than most of the people in the little tellies. He had the charisma that they didn’t, he had the charm, the looks, the better smile. And his life was much more interesting than these people. Those with boring lives shouldn’t talk for an hour unless their aim was to put people to sleep. Oh, that was another thought. Were there little tellies to fall asleep? There were little tellies for everything. He rather liked the internet, even if it made no sense.
Draco watched a few more little tellies before he figured he knew enough to do it too. It wouldn’t let him make a little telly until he created an account, which he thought was kind of rude, but it was their rules. A lot of people didn’t use their real name, so he chose not to either. It took him longer than he wanted to find something that suited him.
Slytherin’s Heir.
Finding out that Harry and his idiot friends thought that he had been Slytherin’s Heir had been flattering. Oh, they hadn’t thought that, but they didn’t realize the kind of compliment it had been. What he wouldn’t have given to be Slytherin’s Heir. That kind of power and social status would have made him untouchable.
With his name chosen, it wanted a photo, but Draco didn’t have any photos of him on Harry’s computer. So he didn’t do anything, let the internet do a blank one. Draco’s foot tapped a few times as he realized his account was complete. Now all he had to do was make a little telly.
It took a few times to find the right succession of buttons to find the live option. He didn’t really understand what being live meant, but he did know that meant that he didn’t have to have a little telly already made, that he could create one right there.
“Is this on?” Draco asked, lips pursed as he poked the camera. “I’m not really sure if this is working. Honestly, I was trying to talk to Harry when I decided to make a little telly. Harry’s my boyfriend. Hi Harry.”
Draco waved at the camera with a small smile. He wished he could see Harry’s face.
“Harry’s actually mad at me right now. He’s an annoying prat who likes to think he’s right all the time.” Draco paused; one side of his face scrunched as the thought about what Harry’s reaction would be to his little telly.
“Maybe mad is an exaggeration,” Draco sighed, one hand pushing through his hair. He hadn’t slicked it back in a few days, too out of sorts to feel up to it. His hair fell into his eyes which was an annoying reminder of why he liked his hair slicked in the first place. “He’s more disappointed.”
Draco grimaced as he remembered the last time he had seen Harry.
“He loves me,” Draco whispered, hating that his cheeks were warm. “He says it all the time. At least he used to.”
A long-suffering sigh escaped as he slumped in the chair with wheels that Harry insisted on using even though Draco thought it was a safety concern.
“When I say all the time, I do mean all the time,” Draco grinned. “He didn’t hear that growing up at all and I think he says it so much because he’s trying to make up for lost time. I don’t mind. I like hearing it. Makes me melt a little bit to know that he loves me so much.”
Draco frowned, sitting up straighter.
“You better not tell him that though. That’s embarrassing.” He waved a finger at the camera in what he hoped was a threatening manner.
“I didn’t hear I love you growing up either. It was rare to hear my parents say anything even hinting at love. But the thing is, I’ve always known they loved me. I could see it in the things they did. When my father would show me a new spell or help me with my hand movements. My mother would bring home my favourite sweets whenever she went out. They would stay up later than was presentable with me and listen to the radio.”
The smile on his face was bittersweet. As much as he knew that his parents loved him, it would have been nice to hear it more than they did.
“I guess I picked up their habit,” Draco winced. “I tell Harry I love him… sometimes. I try to tell him more, but the words don’t come easy to me. My parents knew I loved them, and they certainly didn’t need me to say it. But I try to show Harry too!”
Draco’s hands had begun to move in the beginning but were now thrown in the air.
“I make sure whenever he’s on a case to keep his plants watered, even if the one Neville gave him has it out for me and tries to kill me. When he’s having a bad day I make sure his duvet smells like mint because I know he’s going to collapse on our bed and not move for longer than is healthy and for some reason mint is his favourite smell. I don’t really know how to cook that well but the lady in my phone helps me order from Harry’s favourite restaurant and I do that when he’s feeling sad and sometimes when he’s really happy too.”
Draco’s lips turned downward the longer he talked. It bothered him that Harry couldn’t see that he was loved.
“I’m not a people person but I willingly go with him on what he calls adventures around London. Adventure is accurate because wherever Harry goes, trouble follows. Last month we had to run from people with sticks on horses. Harry said they were the law, but I feel like if you were lawmen then you should dress better but that’s beside the point. Then there was this one time we got kicked out of a library. That was more my fault, but Harry was the one who didn’t tell me that the books didn’t talk or yell. Who wants to go to a library with silent books? That’s like going to a gallery where the paintings don’t talk. What’s the point?”
Muggles were weird, honestly. There were a lot of things they did that were smart, and he wished that Wizards would adopt too. But a large amount of what Muggles did was boring. They lived boring lives and he felt bad that they didn’t have Magic to spice it up.
“I try to show with actions how much he means to me, and I thought I was doing a good job at it, but I guess not.” His eyes closed as he remembered the hurt expression on Harrys’ face.
“He told me he wished I would tell him I loved him more. I told him there was no point. Which in hindsight, I’ll admit was a mistake. I don’t take it back, mind you. But I wish I had explained better before he left. I meant there was no point in saying it more if I could tell him through actions. Which I have been doing since I realized I loved him. I thought he knew. I thought he could see how much I love him.”
Draco swallowed around a lump in his throat. He wasn’t worried about their relationship, not really. Harry sometimes needed a few days to cool down when they argued. Only usually, it was anger that was the parting goodbye and not a heartbreaking sadness.
He looked back to the camera, hating that his eyes were wet.
“I love him, so much. I could talk about all the things he does for me that I love. Like the way he looks at me, the way he makes me feel loved and whole. The way he holds my hand too tight, like he thinks I’ll pull away. As if I ever would. Or the way I feel like I’m high on liquid luck whenever we’re together. But those are selfish to point out. I don’t want to talk about me when I bring up what I love about him. That’s conceited.
“I love the way he throws a fist in the air when he gets an answer on the telly right. I love his stupid hair that has to be sentient at this point, never lying flat. I love the softness in his eyes when he’s happy, the way they shine so brightly. Almost as bright as his smile. I love how kind he is. I know I give him shit for that, which I should, but there’s a goodness to him that isn’t common anymore, and I love that. I love how much he cares about other people.
“I love how hard he works—puts every ounce of himself into whatever he’s working on no matter how big or small. I love how smart he is, even if he doesn’t see it himself. He thinks of the world in ways that others don’t—a genius to him that fascinates me. I love how much he loves. He loves with everything that he has. He loves people in general. Wants to see the best in them, has a faith that never wavers. His friends are his family, his family is his world and the love he has for all of them is another extension of himself that is everlasting.”
Draco blinked through the wetness as he sniffled.
“I’m honoured to be part of that love. To know that he could care about me a fraction of what he feels for others is overwhelming. I know he loves me; Merlin knows that I do. How could I not? He doesn’t just say it, he shows it. And I just wish that he knew how much I loved him too. I know I don’t say it enough, and I try, I do, but I had hoped that he could see it. Maybe that’s my fault. Maybe I didn’t show it enough, maybe I didn’t try harder. Maybe I should have done more.”
Draco wiped at his cheeks hating that he let his emotions get the best of him. Especially on his first little telly!
“What hurts the most is that I don’t know how else I could have showed him,” Draco laughed bitterly. “I really don’t. I give so much of myself to Harry, perhaps that’s not healthy, but it’s true. I love him so bloody much and I hate that he doesn’t see that, that he doesn’t know. How could I not love him? Harry, how could you not know that I love you?
“I love you…”
Draco took a deep breath, wishing it wasn’t as shaky as it was as he twirled in the chair. That had to be the reason Muggles had such dangerous chairs, so they could twirl.
“My first little telly wasn’t supposed to go like this,” Draco smiled wryly as he placed his chin on his palm. “I was supposed to charm you all with my good looks and witty personality. And what did I do? Cry over my relationship issues. Like anyone wants to see that. Maybe I’ll tell you the story of how Harry and I fell in love next time. Or maybe the first time we met. Something happier than my tears. Pansy always said I’m an ugly crier—the jealous bitch—so no sad topics next time, I promise.”
Draco leaned forward; lips pursed as he tried to figure out how to turn it off.
“I’m not sure anyone is going to see this. Maybe that’s for the best. I just know I look like a cross between Doxy droppings and Weasley on a good day. I hope you all are having a better day than I am. I’m going to go as soon as I shut this off.”
Draco frowned, clicking a few buttons before he gave up and shut down the whole computer. The simplest solutions were for the best. He spun in the chair one more time facing the rest of their flat, wishing not for the first time that Harry hadn’t taken his happiness when he left.
——
Watching his little telly back was a painful experience. His charm and charisma were there, but it didn’t look as polished as some of the other little tellies he had seen. He’d just have to keep trying.
Draco was about to start a new one when he noticed that there were a lot more numbers than there should have been at the bottom. It had been two days since he had made it, and he expected there to only be his replay.
Not the 819,543 that stared at him. And every passing minute the number grew by the tens of thousands.
Draco double checked that he was on his little telly and not someone else’s before he covered his mouth. Did that many people see him cry? Merlin, what did he do? While the thought was horrifying, what truly scared him was that there were comments.
There were comments.
Oh no.
Draco groaned, already blaming all of this on Harry. And the internet, the internet could take the blame too. With one eye closed, he scrolled down.
NamelessHope 1 day ago Anyone else find this endearing? He’s like an old grandma that doesn’t know how the internet works.
Sorrymum 5 hours ago He’s so cute. Why can’t you be single?
Michael the Sexual Taco 2 minutes ago His partner is trash. It’s so obvious he’s in love. How could Harry not see it?
Bleach 2 days ago First!!!
CubesAreTriangles 13 hours ago Go bottom go!
Potatoes for Life 7 hours ago Nooooo don’t cry! If you cry I’m going to cry
Draco squinted at the comments. Why were Muggles so fucking weird? And what did they mean bottom? Did people just assume things like that? He liked to fuck and be fucked, thank you very much.
Meaty Meat 10 minutes ago Y r u gay
Draco snorted. Okay, maybe Muggles were entertaining.
Casey J 1 day ago I can’t tell if you’re just ranting or want advise. If it’s the former, then ignore me. But maybe Harry does know you love him. I think it’s obvious that you do, so he must know that. Maybe he needs it said too.
Randy Rants 8 hours ago You need couples therapy not the internet
ParsleySnips 2 days ago I totally cried
Pearl’s Pearly Pearls 2 days ago I want to be loved like you love Harry.
SwiperNoSwiping 1 hour ago If you two don’t break up you should do another video with him.
Draco scowled. They weren’t going to break up. A touch of hesitancy filled him at the thought. It had been 6 days since he last saw Harry. Not their worst fight, and he would’ve tried to find Harry and talk to him if it had been completely silent. But Harry sent a Patronus every morning that nuzzled him awake. The Patronus didn’t speak a message but the love he could feel was a message all on its own.
Karla S 1 day ago Am I the only one who caught that he said spell? Is your father a devil worshiper?
Gigi’s my Daddy 2 days ago Little tellies. That’s so cute. That should be our fandom name when you blow up.
Gay4You 20 hours ago I’ve never been invested in someone else’s love life this much. If you and Harry don’t make up I’m going to riot.
Draco looked through several more comments before he pushed away from the computer. There were a few rude ones and a lot more supportive ones, but all of it made him nervous. He didn’t like that so many people knew about his feelings. It was his own fault for making the little telly, but he didn’t think anyone was going to see it!
Part of him was panicking. He could delete it, probably, if he asked the lady in his phone how. But did he want to? Draco bit his lip, unsure what to do. If he deleted it, all those people who saw it would still remember it, so he’d only be stopping new people from viewing it.
Before he could go over the pros and cons of either option, the front door slammed open, causing him to yelp and jump out of the chair.
Hands raised, Draco glared at Harry, who was staring at him intently, chest moving rapidly.
“What is wrong with you?” Draco sneered. “I nearly came out of my skin. If you’re trying to kill me, you almost succeeded. Merlin don’t do that a—”
Draco cut off when Harry marched toward him, eyes still intense. His mouth was still open, ready so say something, but nothing came out when warm hands cupped his cheeks.
“Draco, I’ve always known you loved me.”
Oh no.
He closed his eyes tightly. Harry watched his little telly. How? Why?
“Hey,” Harry whispered, thumbs moving in a gentle caress. “Look at me.”
Draco shook his head. He didn’t want to.
“I’m sorry.”
That had his eyes opening before they widened. “What?”
“We’re so different,” Harry began with a wry chuckle. “Everything about us is different. And for some reason I forgot that. I assumed that our love language was the same. But the beautiful thing about languages is how different they are. I expected yours to be the same as mine and I was wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Draco hated that his voice wavered.
“You’re right, I do say I love you a lot.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” Draco hurried to explain. “I didn’t mean it to sound—”
“I know,” Harry shushed him, a thumb placed over his bottom lip. “I say it because I don’t want you to forget that I love you.”
Draco shook his head, wanting to tell Harry that he could never forget. How could he? But he didn’t want to interrupt.
“When I was little, I didn’t just want to be loved by my relatives, I wanted to love them too. But they hated me, and the feeling was mutual. I wanted to love someone just as much as I wanted to be loved. And I guess I say it so much as a reminder to never forget that. I love you, Draco and I can’t help but say it over and over again.”
“I know,” Draco parroted as he pressed a kiss to the thumb still over his lip. “I love that you say it so much. I don’t want you to stop. Lately, you’ve been saying it less.”
Harry’s eyes closed briefly. “I’m sorry. You don’t always say it back and that hurts. I thought you didn’t want me to say it. I thought—”
“No,” Draco shook his head again, this time more violently. “Please no. I’m sorry. I want to say it more, and I promise I’ll try but please don’t stop saying it if I can’t.”
Harry shushed him again and if he wasn’t so close to crying, he’d probably have hexed Harry for treating him like a scared child.
“You do show me that you love me,” Harry said, eyes soft and full of the love that Draco wasn’t sure he could live without. “All the time and that’s your love language. You show me through actions, and I needed the reminder.”
“I want to give you the love you deserve,” Draco whispered, blinking rapidly, willing himself not to cry. “You deserve to hear it just as much as you give it. And I’m sorry I don’t do that.”
“I don’t need it,” Harry argued, eyes narrowed. “And don’t you dare presume to know what I deserve. I get to decide that, and I’ve already given you my heart. So it’s up to you to keep it safe.”
Draco inhaled sharply. Harry’s love was special. “I want to love you vocally too. I want to love you the way you love me.”
“The way you love me is exactly what I need.”
Draco’s nose wrinkled. “I feel like you’re settling.”
“Not your decision.”
“Harry—”
“Draco,” Harry began, flicking him in the forehead. “If you want to say it more, I won’t object. I’m just telling you that I don’t need it like I thought I did. We’re in love and it doesn’t matter how different we show it. The love is still there.”
“Okay,” Draco sniffled, wiping his nose on Harry’s shoulder when he was pulled into a strong embrace. After days of no contact, he basked in their combined warmth. A feeling he had missed more than he thought possible.
Draco turned his head, mouth near Harry’s ear as he whispered,
“I love you.”
If Harry held on tighter, and Draco felt a wetness on his neck, well that was no one else’s business.
~Fin
———
Short Extra
“Hi little tellies!” Draco waved at their new camera, one that Harry now manned, taking in Draco’s new hobby in stride.
“I had planned an intro like all the rest of them do but that’s so boring. Over here we’re better than everyone else. So I said fuck it and tossed it away. Let’s just get to the good stuff. You’ll never guess what Harry did yesterday. It was so embarrassing.”
“Do you have to embarrass me to so many people?”
Draco grinned, nose scrunching at Harry’s glare. He knew his followers wanted to see Harry, but Harry didn’t want to be in the little tellies like that. Plus, Draco kind of liked that it was just him.
“What do you mean?” Draco blinked, adopting an innocent expression that had stopped working on Dobby when he was three. “I’m just telling my friends.”
“Yeah,” Harry snorted, eyes on the subscriber count that was rapidly increasing. “All 3 million of them.”
It still blew his mind that so many people wanted to hear him talk about his life. He had known from the beginning that he could pull it off. Had always known he had more charm than everyone else on the internet. His little tellies were clearly superior.
And to think it all stemmed from his love of Harry.
-----
This is a story for @rieraclaelin who I know has been having issues reading fic lately so please don't feel like you have to read this at all. I just wanted there to be a gift for you whenever you do feel like readings stories. I adore you!
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adorerdraco · 4 years ago
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Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 1
Summary: Draco meets and accidentally falls in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP). Part 1 of a upcoming series.
Warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of blood, crying, panic attacks
Words: 6.4K words (I made this so longgg)
A/N: my first Draco writing !!! i am sorry ahead of time if there are any misspellings, typing with long acrylics is hard omg. ALSO PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND ME REQUESTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also i do not own this gif.
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It was almost satirical how Draco managed to fall in love with someone at what might be, is, the lowest point in his life. It was his sixth year at Hogwarts, the dark mark burned into his left forearm, the restless mending of the vanishing cabinet, the impossible task of killing his Headmaster, the Dark Lord looming over him and his family with promises of torture and death if he didn’t follow through with the orders he was given.
Draco was an empty shell of what he used to be. The playful and mean remarks that would leave his mouth to anyone that stood in his path were gone. The devious twinkle in his eye and the smug smirk that used to grace his face almost 24/7 was reduced to a permanent scowl and red-rimmed eyes. He looked as if he had aged a rough 10 years since the last year he was at school. Everyone noticed it.
Everyone noticed the skipped meals, the lack of sleep, the empty look in his eyes, the falling behind in class. But no one dared say a thing to him. It almost seems as though people were afraid of him now more than ever. The sneer on his face and the reckless and impulsive attitude he held now was like a repellent for anyone that tried to come near. He was completely alone, whether he liked it or not and he decided to keep it that way.
That all changed a few months into the year, however, when you were rushing to DADA, your long house colored scarf getting tangled underneath your feet causing you to trip and lurch forward, dropping all your books, your wand, and crashing into, you guessed it, Draco Malfoy himself. There was a loud cracking sound as you both tumbled onto the ground, a yelp slipping past Draco’s lips as he held his hand in pain.
"Oh, Merlin,” you gasped, Draco shooting you the dirtiest glare. “Draco, I’m so sorry.”
Before he could open his mouth to tell you off and incessantly insult you into oblivion, you reached forward and took his wounded hand in yours, the softness of your hands and tender touch throwing him off guard. He watched you as you examined the damage on one of his fingers.
“It’s just a sprain,” you finalized after inspecting it for a couple seconds. Draco recoiled his hand from yours as if he had touched a hot surface. He moved to get up and you huffed out a “wait, hold on,” as you scrambled around the ground for your wand. When you felt the wood underneath your fingertips, you clutched it and jumped to your feet, gently grabbing onto the sleeve of Draco’s robe who was already trying to retreat.
“Get away,” he snarled, snatching his arm out of your grasp.
“Let me help,” you pleaded softly, “it’ll be quick, I promise.”
Draco looked down at you with annoyance. He was about to leave again until he felt that same tender touch from just a few moments ago. The feeling stunning him again as he looked down at his hand that was now lying palm up in yours.
“Episkey,” you drawled the wand over his injured finger, the both of you watching the swollen and purple bruise beginning to form suddenly fade away.
Draco gave you one last scowl before he snatched his hand out of yours and turned around to leave the corridor, leaving you standing there dumbfounded as he quickly walked away, his cloak floating behind him like the professor, who’s class you now realized you were very late for.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* 
That night, Draco lied awake staring at his ceiling he had charmed to resemble a starry night sky. His mind wandered off to think about spells he could try to help fix the vanishing cabinet and different ways he could kill Dumbledore without actually having to face him. He thought of his parents, mostly his mom, and how much he wishes he could save her and himself from this life. He thought of this school and how much he missed being an unknowing child who just did his schoolwork, played quidditch and bully the Golden Trio. He missed the two-dimensional life he used to live. Even if he used to be a complete ignorant and snobby arse, he was a happy one at that. Only now he knows that life isn’t what mummy or daddy say it is, in fact, it is so much worse.
He found his mind wandering to his uneventful day of dragging himself through his classes and failed attempts on the cabinet in the room of requirement. He then all of a sudden remembered the klutzy y/h/c girl that tripped into him and sprained his finger. He remembered how soft her touch was and how gentle she was in fixing said finger. That feeling was hard to forget. He hasn’t felt such tenderness since he doesn’t know how long. He recalled his mother’s hug before he boarded the train to Hogwarts, but that was ages ago.
In his ever growing turmoil, there wasn’t an ounce of warmth in Draco’s life since he’s returned to school. The coldness he was feeling on the inside was just as apparent as it was in his surroundings. He catches himself wishing he could feel that touch again, something about you radiated warmth, and just as quick as that thought appeared, he pushed it away. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
The next day, as Draco was leaving the room of requirement and into the empty corridor, he felt the familiar ache in his chest that began to flow through his body. He had made little to no progress today on the cabinet. He felt a panic attack on the horizon, his breathing becoming staggered and tears pricking his eyes. He hated it. He hated feeling so weak.
He began rushing towards Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, his tears blurring his vision and just like the day before, he crashed right into someone. Instinctively, he held the other person in place by their biceps so neither of them would fall. But that still didn’t stop how upon impact, the other person’s head had collided with his bottom lip. He squeezed his eyes in pain as he felt the skin break and blood quickly escaping it. When he pulled back, he focused on the figure in front of him and realized it was you. The same klutzy girl he bumped into yesterday. 
“Oh no, not again,” you frown, placing your hand on the part of your head that met Draco’s lip.
“You ought to watch where you’re going, you twit,” he snarls, stepping away from you in anger.
“It was an accident,” you responded just as harshly. You take a deep breath and throw the attitude aside. He was bleeding for Merlin’s sake and you felt bad that it was because of you. “I’m sorry, please let me heal you again,” you offer, taking a step towards him, closing up the space he had made.
“I think you’ve done enough,” he backs up, eyeing you down.
“Draco, please, just let me heal your lip and i’ll be out of your way,” you ask again, your soft and guilt ridden e/c eyes peering up at him through your lashes. Draco’s heart flutters, his anger subsiding for a second and he nods.
You step towards him once more and unexpectedly place a warm hand on his face while the other brings your wand up to his lip where it hovers. It was a non-verbal spell you used this time and he felt the pulsating pain in his lip subside to nothing. 
Even though he was healed, you both stayed in that position, your hand still on his cheek and his eyes gazing into yours. He didn’t realize it at that moment, but the pain in chest had also subsided, just a little. The tears had gone. His breathing was drastically slower.
“What’s your name?” the question tumbled from his lips before he could stop it. You gave him a small smile, your hand falling from his face and he frowns when he feels the cold on his skin from the loss of contact.
“It’s Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N” you answer. “We have potions together this year, actually.”
Draco thought back to that class, now that Slughorn was teaching it he hardly paid attention, especially since he felt he was skilled in it anyways so he would let himself slip into his thoughts and let the whole period pass by in a haze. He feels as though he might have heard your name here and there, but he wasn’t so sure.
“Hm, funny, I’ve never noticed you,” he says, not intending it to sound rude but it did. He watches your face fall and he feels a slight guilt poke at him.
“Well, like I said, I’ll be out of your way now,” you mumble to him, brushing past him softly as you continued your path out of the corridor and out of his sight.
He didn’t know why, but he felt a little sad to see you go. He shook his head, shaking the thought from his mind and instead of the bathroom, he decided to go to his room, no longer feeling like he did before your little encounter.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
As days went on, Draco ended up paying more attention in Slughorn’s class. Not to the chubby old professor, but to you, who he shared subtle glances with throughout classes and half-hearted smiles.
You wanted nothing more than to continue talking to him. To be in his presence. He was like a magnet to you, while everyone else thought the opposite of him. Even Pansy, who usually was up his ass, distanced herself from the ghost of the boy she once obsessed over. You couldn’t lie, the small crush you harbored on Draco had only grown more and more each day. It started about three years ago, during your third year when you had seen him in the hospital wing after his run-in with Buckbeak.
You remember the sheer shock you felt when you had seen him for the first time that year. The slicked back hair was gone, he had grown several inches taller, maybe even a foot taller now that you thought about it. His voice had deepened into that haughty tone you somehow couldn’t get enough of. But just like you, many other girls noticed these changes too and began pursuing him. Something you’d never had the guts to do.
Until now.
The feelings you had been suppressing for the past 3 years had come back in overflow the second you bumped into him the other day. Even worse this time since you’ve actually had a conversation with him now and the fact that he won’t stop looking at you.
Slughorn pulled you out of your thoughts when he announced to everyone to partner up to brew the potion he had been lecturing us on all week. Draught of Peace.
“This is your chance,” your friend besides you sings to you as you looked longingly in Draco’s direction who hasn’t moved from his spot.
“No, he usually works by himself, I don’t want to bother him anymore than I have,” you sigh, slumping down in your seat.
“Y/N, you’ve been in love with him since third year,” she huffs, “besides, maybe he only works alone because no one can stand being near him.”
“Shhh, someone might hear you,” you hiss, slumping even lower into your seat. “I am not in love with him, it’s just a stupid crush,” you whisper angrily to her while she only rolls her eyes.
“Okay, well, have fun working alone,” she smirks, getting up from her seat and scurrying across the room to join another classmate. You gape at her in distress, she returns the same gesture, mocking you. She then points over to Draco and smiles, giving you an encouraging thumbs up.
You rest your head in your hand for a second, feeling the hot blush that had made its way onto your face and focused your gaze onto the table in front of you. You mentally hexed your friend, who thought it’d be a good idea if she were ditch you so you would be forced to look for another partner. Jokes on her, you’re not getting up from this seat.
‘I can’t go up to him,” you thought, ‘he probably thinks I’m some annoying creep who won’t leave him alone. I’ll just work by myself.”
Draco looks over at you, noticing the empty space beside you and the frown on your face as you pushed your Potions book to the side and sat up to get your cauldron ready. You were alone, and so was he. He fought himself on whether or not he should join you. It was a bold move, especially for him. He was used to working alone, but the longer he looked at you, the more he found himself missing the sound of your honey sweet voice and soft eyes. Before he had any more time to argue with himself about it, he gathered up all his things and walked over to the empty spot next to you.
“Do you want help?” Draco asked awkwardly, immediately regretting his decision to move. Your eyes shot up from the potion book, not expecting to see the blond next to you with a faint blush on his cheeks.
“Um, yes, actually, that’d be nice,” you mutter out to him, moving some stuff around on the table so that he would have space for his. You could hardly contain the deep red blush that was already on your face from intensifying at his presence. You swallowed thickly as the realization set in that your longtime crush was right beside you and even offering a helping hand. Which in Draco’s case was extremely rare, almost unheard of. Matter of fact, this is something the Slytherin Prince has never done.
He sets his bag down and his supplies and takes a seat, rolling up his sleeves so that he could get started on crushing the porcupine quills into the moonstone powder. The amount of times he has made this potion by now for himself was sad, but good in this case since he would be able to impress you with his skill.
He worked diligently and quietly and you watched as his long slender fingers worked everything with attention and precision. You were looking up at him every now and then which you now realized was a terrible idea considering you were in the middle of cutting ginger root and you weren’t exactly coordinated to begin with. You felt the sharp blade slide across your finger and a small gasp left your mouth when the pain instantly began once the first drop of blood fell.
Draco looked at you in confusion, his eyes widening slightly when he saw the blood dripping from your hand and your face contorted in pain. You ignored the looks Draco was giving you, afraid that he might be looking at you with contempt for being sloppy.
“Y/L/N, perhaps you should go to Madam Pomfrey,” Draco suggests, now seeing that the cut was very deep as you inspected it. In fact, it was so deep he swore he could’ve seen bone.
“No, it’s fine, I can heal it,” you ignored the sharp pain and placed your hand on the table and pointed your wand at the cut with your uninjured hand. You focused on the cut and closed your eyes, letting your wand do its magic with your unspoken spell. When you opened your eyes, the cut was gone, just a small scar in its place and drying blood around it. “You see,” you smile, turning towards Draco and waving your finger, “brand new.”
“You don’t want dittany for the scarring?” Draco asked with an eyebrow raised.
“No, I don’t mind them and this one is small anyways. They’re like memories to me. Some come from good experiences, some bad. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a little clumsy,” you explain, a small smile on your lips.
“Trust me, I’ve noticed,” he sighs, “so you’ve managed to become your own healer because of that?”
“Exactly that,” you hummed. “That’s actually what I’m studying to be. I plan on being at St. Mungo’s once we graduate. I’ve been studying for it my whole life.”
Draco was silent for a moment. He watched as you carefully threw ingredients into the cauldron and stirred them with caution. He noticed that despite your clumsiness, you handled everything you touched with a care and gentleness. It was a calming sight to him for some reason and he faintly smiled.
“I think you’d be a great healer,” he complimented quietly. You looked at him with one of the brightest smiles he’s ever seen and his heart swells at the thought of it being because of him. He feels a smile mirroring yours that tries to break through, but he fights it.
“You know, you’re a lot nicer than you let on,” you say quietly, waiting for his reaction from the corner of his eye. Draco wants to give you a snarky remark, just to uphold his cold reputation he’s given himself since his first day back at Hogwarts, but he doesn’t.
Instead of saying anything, he just shrugged and gave you a small smile, turning his attention back to the task at hand. You do the same, choosing to enjoy the comfortable silence that had settled.
When Slughorn came by to check when you finished, he eyed you and Draco and smiled.
"Ahh, Mr. Malfoy, I’m glad you’ve finally decided to partner up with someone,” he gleamed. “Miss Y/L/N here is an excellent potions student such as yourself.”
“Yes, she is,” Draco responded, keeping his eyes trained on the professor. He didn’t want to look at you, feeling embarrassed that he has now complimented you twice in the last 20 minutes. You smiled to yourself, something you’ve been doing a lot of since the slytherin boy sat next to you.
“Well, I suppose you’ll be pleased to know the two of you have brewed an outstanding potion,” Slughorn grins, “both of you will receive perfect marks on this. You can be excused from today’s class now.”
“Thank you, Professor,” you begin gathering your things and turn towards Draco. “I’ll see you next class? Or maybe somewhere around the castle when I accidentally bump into you.”
Draco chuckles and shakes his head, “perhaps. I’ll see you soon, Y/L/N.”
With that, he strides out of the class, you staring at the back of his platinum blond head with a stupid smile on your face.
“You’re welcome,” your friend suddenly appeared next to you, playfully slapping your arm. “I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen Draco look so... calm.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Weeks had gone by, and several Potions classes. The seat beside you now belonged to Draco and the two of you had in a sense, become friends. Or acquaintances. You couldn’t quite say. 
He was still brooding and mostly kept to himself, but he would converse with you here and there about things, almost always school. The two of you continuously getting outstanding marks on everything you produced much to Slughorn’s delight.
Sometimes he would come to class looking disheveled or angry and those were the days where no matter how much you tried to talk to him to at least maybe get his mind off things, he would ignore you. Wouldn’t even look at you. You couldn’t deny how it had hurt your feelings, but you would brush off the hurt and remind yourself that it wasn’t personal. He was obviously going through something, you didn’t know what, but you had to respect that sometimes he just didn’t want to talk. That was hard. Especially because you just wanted to hear his voice or see him give you that rare smile when you would say something he found amusing or you would accidentally drop something off the table with your elbows or knocked over with your hands. 
You were rounding a corridor when you saw the flash of blond zoom past you. He didn’t see you, but you saw the pointed look in his eyes and the tears that were pooling in the stormy gray eyes that you adored. You mentally fought yourself on whether or not you should follow him, he looked so upset and all you wanted to do was give him a peace of mind. So you followed him, all through two corridors until he disappeared into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.
Your heart broke at the sobs that filled the bathroom. They were full of pain and despair. The sound of his rapid breathing mixed in with his cries was more than enough to let you know that he was having a panic attack. You pushed open the door slightly to see him hunched over a sink, his robe discarded on the ground along with his vest and tie leaving him in only a white long sleeved dress shirt. 
You wanted to run in and help, but stayed back, realizing that this was something that was extremely personal. You knew he would be livid if you or anyone saw him like this, so broken and emotional. You were about to leave, all of a sudden feeling very ashamed for even following him in here. You watched as he looked up into the mirror, an anger flashing in his eyes as he stared at the reflection looking back at him. Not yours, but his. All he could see was a monster staring back at him. A failure. A weak man. He was disgusted and angry with what he saw and before he knew what he was doing, he had pulled his fist back and you watched it collide with the middle of the mirror where he had been. The glass shattered upon impact, the shards now flying in all different directions and embedding into his knuckles. He fell to the ground on his knees, in pain and clutching his fist as his cries only got louder. 
That was when you threw open the door, rushing in to help him, not caring that you were going to have to put up a fight in order to even get near him. Draco’s eyes shot up to meet yours, and just like you thought, he was beyond pissed to see you. 
Draco has never felt such humiliation in his life. The beautiful and kind y/h girl he had acquainted himself with, was now looking at him with pity. He grabbed his wand from his pocket, pointing it at you with such quickness that you faltered in your steps.
“Get. Out!” He yelled, his wand shaking violently in his uninjured hand. He would never hex you, but he figured you would fall for his bluff and leave. But you didn’t. You only sat yourself down a few feet away from him and felt your own tears begin to fall. “Y/L/N, I swear to Merlin, if you don’t leave, I’ll-”
“You’ll what?” you challenged. “I just want to help.”
“I don’t need your help,” he sneered, his wand still pointed at you.
“You’re bleeding, a lot, Draco,” you point to his bloodied hand that curled to his chest. “You know I can save you a trip to the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey’s interrogation.”
After a few moments of silence and a wand still pointed at you, you slowly scoot towards him. Your hand encloses around the one holding his wand and you lower it for him while he watches you. He was still crying and breathing heavily. His panic attack somehow getting worse now and no longer having the energy to fight you. You finally reach him, now knee to knee with him and you place a hand on his shoulder.
“Draco, just breath with me,” you say calmly. “In,” you took a long exaggerated inhale, and after a few seconds, “out,” and let out an equally exaggerated exhale. You did that with him for a while, his pained gray eyes focused on yours the whole time, never breaking eye contact. Once he was calmed down enough and was just left with the post crying hiccoughs, you took his injured hand in yours. There was shards and particles of glass stuck in his reddened and bloody skin.
You reached into your robe pocket and pulled out a set of tweezers you kept with you. You often found yourself getting splinters or tiny rocks stuck in your skin when your hands hit the pavement when you’d fall you try and catch yourself.
“This might hurt,” you warn, starting to remove one of the biggest pieces. He sharply inhales as you try your best to do take it out carefully.
It was quiet the rest of the process, just sniffles and gasps from Draco when you had removed a piece that especially hurt. When you were done, you waved your wand over the gashes and watched as they faded into faint pink scars. You got up, pulling him with you and took him to the sink where you rinsed off the blood from both your hands and his. 
He couldn’t say anything. He didn’t know what. He just stared at you, dumbfounded and confused. You turned your body to face his and he did the same, eyeing you carefully and still very cautious to any move you made.
“I can leave now, if you’d like me to,” you offer quietly. He stayed silent, wondering if he should just send you off. But he didn’t want to. You had already seen him at his worst, and he was terribly alone, so he just shook his head ‘no.’ You looked up at him and decided to risk it all. “Can I give you a hug?”
Draco was stunned at the question, his heart pounding against his chest. “I suppose,” he managed to let out in a strained voice.
You slowly stepped closer to him and slid your arms up his biceps until your hands met behind his neck. You stood on your tippy toes and pulled him into you, his chin now resting on your shoulder as your hand smoothed the back of his head. You felt him stiff under your touch and as he got comfortable in your embrace, his arms raised from his sides and snaked around your waist, pushing you flush against him. You stayed like that for what felt like forever, and he held you tightly, not wanting to let go.
This was the first time in a long time that he had felt any type of relief. It had been such a constant uphill battle for him, day after day. He took a deep inhale accidentally, but the smell of your perfume and shampoo filling his nose and his mind made him feel at ease. The warmth of your body from underneath his fingertips brought him peace and succor.
“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair so quietly that if you weren’t so focused on him, you would’ve missed it.
“Anytime.”
That was the day Draco Malfoy became your friend.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Potions class was no longer the only place you would see Draco. Now that the two of you were comfortable with one another and he trusted you more than anyone else, he found himself hanging out with you every day during his free time when he would be done messing with the cabinet.
It would be taking walks around the castle. Sneaking out at night and meeting behind statues to talk. Sitting together at a bench in the courtyard. Skipping stones along the Black Lake. It’s been months of this. Months of friendship he so desperately needed. You had helped him through several more panic attacks and meltdowns, each time coming closer together. He never told you about what caused them. The worst ones were when he found he had almost killed Katie Bell and Ron Weasley, and as much as you begged him to tell you, he kept his mouth shut. 
He had spent so much time with you that it was affecting him. But for the better. He found himself eating again at the Slytherin table and his friends were more than excited to have him back. He still wasn’t too buddy-buddy with everyone as he once was, but he joined conversations and shared a couple jokes. He was even sleeping a little more. He was still beyond stressed, but it wasn’t as gut-wrenching. He enjoyed Potions again and even started paying a little more attention in his other classes. His new found energy even helped him greatly progress in mending the vanishing cabinet, finally making a breakthrough in fixing it.
He would lie awake at night sometimes and thank Merlin you crashed into his life, literally. You were like an angel to him, healing his heart with every word and smile and touch you sent his way. It was easy with you. He tried his best to keep his emotions at bay, reminding himself that when he would have to follow through with his task, he would lose you and that thought pained him to no end. But he was selfish, and he adored you with every fiber of his being so he couldn’t leave you alone. And especially not when he needed you most.
Today, you lied in the grass, shoulder to shoulder and staring up at the sky and watching the clouds. You were a little ways from the castle, away from all your other classmates and teachers and it was nice. Finally being able to enjoy time with the Slytherin Prince without people gawking at the two of you.
“My mother used to do this with me when I was a small,” Draco trailed off, his eyes following a particular funny shaped cloud. “She would take me out to the garden behind the Manor, usually when father was doing some work at the ministry. But we would sit against this tall oak tree and I’d be on her lap and she’d have her arms wrapped around me and she would point out the funniest shaped clouds and try to pinpoint what they resemble. Sometimes she’d even joke around and say the weirdest shaped cloud looked like father.”
You giggled at that last part, your heart swelling at the story. He rarely talked about his family, but when he did, it would always be of his mother and a happy memory he had with her, never his father.
“Draco, can I ask you something?” you turn onto your side, your elbow holding you up as you gazed down at him.
“What do you wanna know, darling?” you blushed at the nickname but brushed it aside, knowing he only meant it in a friendly way.
“Forgive me if it’s rude, you don’t have to answer,” you begin, “but do you miss your father? I know it’s none of my business and I’m so sorry the Daily Prophet put your family business on blast like that. I can’t imagine how that must have felt.”
Draco frowned and followed you in turning onto his side and propping himself up with his elbow to face you. You remembered the image of Draco and his mother on the newspaper, bright lights flashing across their faces as all the press tried to get picture of them after the sentencing of Lucius Malfoy to Azkaban. You remembered seeing Draco look so sad, yet strong beside his mother as he looked from her and then into the camera with disdain. 
“Sometimes, I do,” he answers, eyebrows furrowed as he thought of his father. “My whole life, he’s expected nothing short of perfection from me. There were no room for mistakes, and if I made any, I would be punished for them. I remember coming to Hogwarts was like an escape, a place where I could finally sort of relax and be a child. I don’t miss his scolding or his coldness. But I miss having a father, I miss going home on that first day of summer and seeing both my parents even if he was going to reprimand me for something later on in the day. He’s been with me my whole life, and now he’s gone, stuck in a cell in Azkaban. He’s never going to be the same. Home is never going to be the same.”
You felt tears prick your eyes as you listened to the boy beside you, a distant look in his eyes as he turned back over on his back to look at the sky in the middle of his explanation. You sat up and he did the same, looking at you with a frown when he noticed you were about to cry. You took your hand in his and held it tightly.
“I’m sorry, Draco,” you mumble. “You don’t deserve any of the bad things you’ve been through.”
“I do,” he shrugs. “I’ve been a real git since I’ve been at Hogwarts, you know.”
“You’re different now,” you say. “Sure, you still haven’t lost a little bit of the Malfoy snobbishness and you’re still a bit of a git, but you’re kinder and more gentle. You’re a lot more empathetic and perceptive. I mean, I’ve never spoken to you prior to this year, but your reputation follows and the Draco in front of me doesn’t seem anything like the Draco you were.”
“How you’ve managed to insult me while complimenting me is something I’ve never seen anyone be able to do successfully is astonishing,” he laughs, a smile growing on his face as you laughed with him.
“I’m serious, Dray,” you giggle, “I think you’re a good person.”
“I’m not good,” he thinks to himself. The compliment leaving your lips made him feel foul. He didn’t deserve to have such a kind soul complimenting him to be something he’d never amount to. He frowned and harshly stood up, and you quickly followed. Suddenly afraid that you might have overstepped your boundaries.
“Where are you going?” You ask, fear trembling in your voice. He begins to hurriedly walk off and you chase after him, stopping in front of him so you could place your hands on his chest to stop him. 
“Y/N, let me go,” he pleads. “I’m not who you think I am.”
“I think I’ve been around you long enough to know who you are.”
“Not long enough.”
You stare up at him, but he refuses to look at you. His body feels rigid under your touch and it pains you to see him beginning to shut down again.
“I know something has been bothering you this year, and I know it’s not just because of what happened with your father,” you start. “I don’t know what is hurting you so deeply enough to make you hate yourself, but I’m here to tell you that whatever that thing is, it doesn’t define you.”
Draco swallows thickly, the tears already falling down his cheeks. “It does, it does.”
“No, it doesn’t,” you cry with him. “Even if you don’t see your goodness, I do.”
Both you and Draco are crying, the tree you were now standing under was swaying violently in the wind, as if it was picking up on your guys’ emotions. You placed a hand on his cheek, and he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours.
“I’m not good,” he whispers to you, “and once you see that, you’re going to hate me.”
“I could never hate you, Draco Malfoy,” you promise, a complete sincerity in your voice that it makes his heart jump.
Draco lifts his head up and sniffles, he watched you do the same, peering up at him through your wet lashes. He brought his thumb up to smooth the crease in between your eyebrows, letting it fall down to your cheeks where he wiped away the stray tears that had stilled. His hand then landed on your mouth that was pulled down in a grimace that matched his own. His thumb grazed over your lips, the softness of them nearly driving him mad. He wanted nothing more than to feel them against his own, but he couldn’t bring himself to kiss you. He didn’t want to drag you into the darkness of his life more than he already has.
“Kiss me,” you said to him, so softly but it rang loud in his ears. You had seen the way he looked at you and how he seemed so focused on your lips. You knew what he was thinking because it was exactly what you were thinking. You wanted this just as badly as he did. “Kiss me.”
Every argument he had in his head vanished and suddenly he closed the small space between the two of you and gently placed his lips onto yours. It was a fluid movement, like two puzzle pieces fitting together.
Your hands found their way in his hair, holding him closer to you and he did the same by gripping onto your hips. His lips were soft against yours, filled with fervor and desire. He was gentle with you, but you could still feel the deepness of his kiss and how it intensified with each second. He had put all his emotions into it, his care, his appreciation, his want, his sadness, his grief, his love.
When he pulled away and the two of you stood there staring at each other with love stricken eyes, he realized he had made a grave mistake.
He realized he was in love with you. He realized that he would never be able to let you go, and you would never let him go. And he knew that with the direction his life was going in, one way or another, you would get hurt and he would lose you, maybe even to death itself.
So in that moment he knew. As much as he loved you and wanted more than anything to be with you, he couldn’t put you in that position where you would be staring evil and death in the face. He wouldn’t tarnish your beautiful soul like that.
“I have to go,” he breathed out. “Please, leave me alone. For good.”
And with that he turned away, leaving you standing under the tree with tears falling down your face, a sob escaping your throat and the sound of your knees hitting the grass below you. He held back his own cries and walked faster away from you, knowing you had finally done damage to yourself that you couldn’t heal, and it was all his fault.
PART 2
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randomshyperson · 4 years ago
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The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The First Year
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Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3
Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.
Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.
Chapters will have additional warning when necessary.
Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia
//////////////////////////////////
Part I - The First Year
Hogwarts will be fun was the first thought you had when you opened the letter in your hands.
Tony, your older brother, ruffled your hair slightly as he came down into the kitchen and watched you open the mail.
"Your letter finally arrived, huh, little witch?" He joked with a smile as he sat down at the table. 
"I can't wait to go!" You commented excitedly rereading the acceptance letter for the third time.
"Miss, after coffee, can we go to diagonal alley if you like?" Jarvis, your butler, asked you politely as he poured Tony's coffee making you hesitate slightly. Tony, who had his eye on you, forced a smile as he patted you on the arm.
"I'll go with you, don't worry." He assured and you nodded.
"I wish dad would come." You grumble as you sit down and Tony sighs.
" Yeah, me too." He says. "But you know he's busy, and we can't leave it to the last minute."
You mumble in agreement as you serve some sweetbreads on your plate.
Eating in silence for a few moments, you are startled slightly when Tony lets out an exclamation.
"Damn, I forgot to write back to Steve." He announces getting up and walking over to the next shelf where there were some stationery and pen.
"Your boyfriend will be upset." You tease lightly, and Tony mumbles softly without responding.
When he finishes writing the letter, he goes to the kitchen window and opens the metal, whistling loudly in a familiar rhythm. A few seconds later, Iron, his barn owl lands in front of him. Tony stroked the animal gently before dangling the letter in his paws.
" Please take this to Steve, Iron." He ordered and the animal made a noise before flying away again.
"Jarvis, I'll get ready to go." You tell the man as soon as you finish eating and head off toward the stairs.
//-//
Diagonal Alley is a noisy place.
Tony asked you to walk beside him, but you stopped walking at the first Quidditch shop you spotted, and he had to turn back halfway when he noticed you were no longer beside him.
"Don't do that." He warned, mildly annoyed, but you glazed over at the exposed broom in front of you, and he let out a chuckle when he noticed. "Come on, Y/N, you already have a broom."
"But that's no ordinary broom." You retorted with an impressed look. "It's a Nimbus 2000, it's the fastest broom there is."
"You have the 99, I don't understand the difference." He retorted with his hands in his pockets and you shrugged.
"Tony, can we buy it?" You asked pleadingly, making your brother laugh slightly.
"Let's buy your stuff first please" He retorted with a smile and you grumbled but accepted the arm he offered for you to hang on. Jarvis walked behind you with a keen eye on your surroundings.
After you had bought the vast majority of your supplies and replenished your stocks of potions items for Tony, Jarvis took you to Blossoms and Blurbs to buy this year's books.
"Good morning! Hogwarts, third and first year books, please." You heard Jarvis tell the clerk who approached you three. Tony nodded his head signaling you to feel free to walk around the bookstore in the meantime, and that is exactly what you did.
You found many interesting books in the place as you walked among the shelves. One in particular caught your attention, as there seemed to be little miniature magical creatures trying to jump out of the cover, and you grabbed it on a table, watching the item carefully.
You smiled when an ink dragon jumped into your hand, moving your head as if you were looking around. Distracted by the book, you let out a low exclamation when someone bumped into you.
"Sorry, kid." You heard a female voice speak in a humorous tone. It is a girl taller than you, short red hair. "I ended up tripping over some of those runner books."
"It's okay." You said with a smile. The girl looked at the one book in your hands for a moment.
"Do you enjoy creature tracts?" She asks casually as she reaches for a book on the bookshelf beside her.
"I don't know yet." You say and she looks at you slightly confused, "I never studied."
"Ah, first-year." She understands and you nod in agreement. "Hogwarts too or some other?"
"Hogwarts." 
"Cool, I guess I'll see you there then." She says. "I'm from Slytherin, third year."
You let out a surprised exclamation.
"Maybe you know my brother." You say and the girl takes her gaze from the books in her hand she was checking to look at you with her eyebrow raised in curiosity. "His name is Tony Stark, he's also from your house."
The girl lets out a short laugh.
"I can't believe you are Stark's sister." She says. "We're not exactly friends, but I've seen him around the dorm several times. And your brother is a pain in the ass, by the way."
You laugh lightly, agreeing.
"I am Natasha Romanoff." She introduces herself next, balancing her books in one hand to greet you. You introduce yourself with a gentle smile. "Good luck with your books." She says before turning away.
You think it's cool that you already know someone besides your brother before you start at Hogwarts.
//-//
Buying your wand is a rather strange experience.
Mr. Ollivander has a glint in his eye as if he knows everyone's secrets, and seems to disappear and reappear in his store very easily.
Tony sat on one of the stools while he waited for you, and Jarvis went to buy something for you two to eat.
After trying almost five wands, and exploding a glass vase when he tried the last one, Mr. Ollivander sighed.
"Sorry, I don't know why it's not working." You asked feeling nervous, but he smiled.
"Don't worry, dear." He said. "Difficult customers are so much fun." 
He walked back in between the shelves after that, and then reappeared with three new packages.
"I remember when Howard Stark bought his wand." He told smiling nostalgically as you opened one of the packages, a black wand in front of you. "Phoenix, Cedar, slightly flexible."
"Dad has changed wands thousands of times." Added Tony wryly, but Mr. Ollivander didn't seem to mind.
The wand you tested let out a faint spark when you tried to cast a simple conjuration spell, and the man in front of you was quick to take it from your hand the next second.
"I think I have a better idea." He announced turning around, and then climbed the ladder supported by the wall, picking up a package at the top.
"Try this one dear." He asked handing you a dark wand, the wood was shiny, a color you didn't know exactly what it was, but it was beautiful. 
When you grabbed the item, you felt a tingling sensation spread throughout your hand, and the wand vibrated slightly for a few seconds, causing Ollivander to let out a noise of excitement.
"You see, I knew I would find an owner for you dear." He spoke and you realized that he was speaking with the item in your hands. Soon he turned his gaze back to you. "Take good care of this one, will you, it was quite difficult to get dark elf blood for the core."
"R-right." You said with a slight frown, not quite sure what to make of that information.
Tony laughed lightly at the interaction, he should be used to Mr. Ollivander's eccentric manner by now, since he kept breaking his wands just like your father and often returned to the store to get a new one.
After paying, you and Tony met Jarvis outside, he was carrying some sweet rolls.
//-//
July ended too quickly for your happiness. You were very eager to go to school.
You spent most of August at home, playing quidditch with Tony in the backyard, curiously reading the magic books you bought, and trying to peek into the basement where your father worked, but he always caught you looking and smiled, asking you to go back to your room.
You would like your father to take you to the station, but he said he had a magic conference in September, and would be traveling for the next few weeks. Tony was upset, but he put his arm around your shoulders and asked you to hurry to get your bags.
When you finally got to the station, you were slightly nervous about going through a wall, but Tony laughed, and showed you how to go first.
You hugged Jarvis good-bye before following your brother along the way.
Tony dragged you across the train cars to the first empty cabin he could find. He commented that it would be nice if you made your own friends, but that he would like you to sit with him.
So here you were, sitting with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, Tony's best friends since the first year. The boys smiled encouragingly at you. You already knew them, because Tony kept inviting them to spend holidays with him all the time.
"Hey, Y/N, how was your vacation?" Steve asked as soon as you sat down next to him. You shrugged, saying that it was nice, but that you were looking forward to attending Hogwarts.
Soon the boys started talking about what they were excited about next year, and you did your best to keep up, not knowing exactly who the people they mentioned were, or knowing the classes they talked about.
Many minutes after the train was moving, a girl opened the cabin door.
"Hey, strangers." She greeted with a smile. 
"Hi Peggy." Steve said with a smile, you frowned at the slight scowl on your brother's face.
"They're calling for us in the prefects compartment, Steve." She warned and Steve nodded, getting up. He and the girl then left, and Tony crossed his arms.
"What's wrong?" You asked noticing his posture and the way Bucky had a little smile on his face.
"It's nothing." Grumbled your brother, and as he turned his face to the window, Bucky who was standing in front of you, whispered to you.
"Tony thinks Peggy likes Steve." He recounted. "So he doesn't like Peggy very much."
"Oh." You said, pretending to understand the whole plot. It didn't make much sense to you because everyone couldn't be friends, but you figured that when you were your brother's age you would understand better.
//-//
The Hogwarts Express only stopped at night.
Properly uniformed, you smiled when your brother patted you on the shoulder, telling you that he would meet you at the castle, since the first-year students had to go by boat.
Your hands were sweating a little as you walked up to the extraordinarily tall man who introduced himself as Drax.
"First-year students, please, six in each boat." He shouted to the crowd, and the students moved closer together.
You sat in one of the first little boats, five other children you didn't know surrounding you.
"I'm so excited." A blonde girl commented cheerfully, waving her hands. She smiled at everyone as she introduced herself as "Harley Quinn". 
"I bet you''ll blow something up once we get there, Harley" Added a redheaded girl sitting next to you, you could tell by her tone that they were probably friends. The blonde, Harley, laughed.
"Shut up, Ivy." She said, and then Drax was back, climbing into one of the boats beside her. He checked the boats one last time, then waved his hand, and the transports began to move.
Everyone, including you, let out a chorus of excitement.
When you noticed the castle, you smiled. It was huge, and just as amazing as Tony used to tell you. 
"Wow, it must be amazing to fly over all that." You quietly observed, and the girl next to you turned her head in your direction, smiling.
"Do you like flying?" She asked, and you nodded. She looked at you for a moment and then held out her hand to greet you. "I am Diana. Diana Prince."
"Hi, Diana." You said introducing yourself next. "Do you also like to fly?"
"I love it." She says. "I hope i can make it onto the team."
"I don't know if the first-years have any chance, but I'll be rooting for you." You assure, and Diana smiles.
When the boats stop in the harbor, the students are all excited to get out and see the castle, but Drax's almost intimidating posture makes everyone properly behaved.
He leads the crowd to the staircase, and then there is a lobby. There is a woman waiting for everyone, her strict posture makes you think she is someone you wouldn't want to upset.
"Welcome to Hogwarts." She announces. "I am Professor Okoye, head of Gryffindor house."
The students exchange burbles next, but the teacher's gaze shuts them up almost immediately.
"As long as you are here, your houses will be like your families." She continues. "Your triumphs will earn you points, and if you break any rules, those points will be taken away." 
She says, casting a disapproving glance at one of the students in the corner, who giggled. "In a few moments we will begin the sorting hat ceremony."
The teacher then turns around, heading toward a large bronze door, and talking to someone on the other side. You hear someone laughing near you, and you turn your head to the side in curiosity.
It was a blond boy, and he seemed to be enjoying himself as he balanced one of the gold cups he picked up from the surrounding shelves. You thought he would be in trouble if he knocked it over, and this seemed to be exactly the same opinion as the girl next to him, who was looking at him disapprovingly.
"Stop being an idiot, Peter, put that back." She complained and he laughed, shrugging.
"Gamora, you're a spoilsport you know." He retorted and when he put the cup back, it spun and fell to the floor, breaking into several pieces. The boy turned pale as Teacher Okoye turned her head in his direction.
You rolled your eyes, walking over to them.
"Reparo" You said drawing your wand as you pointed at the broken object. Some children let out impressed exclamations when they saw the bowl form again, but you just put your wand away in shame. It was no big deal. Okoye caught up with the three of you next, looking reproachfully at the boy.
"I expect better behavior during the ceremony, sir..."
"Quill"
"Mister Quill." She completed and took one last look at the boy that had with his head down before turning back to the front of the crowd again, waving for the students to follow her.
"Hey, that was pretty cool." Peter commented beside you as you walked. You shrugged, focusing on the path.
//-//
The sorting hat was something exceptional.
Tony never told you how the choice was made, and you knew it was only to annoy you. He had sometimes joked that the students faced each other in a duel, and even though you told him to shut up, you had a look at his spell book before you came.
The actual ceremony was much simpler, however.
When it was your turn to climb onto the small stool, you bit your lips, hoping that everything would go smoothly. Just as the old cloth of the hat fell over your eyes, blocking your view of the rest of the hall, you heard a voice in your head.
" Hello, dear, no need to be so nervous." Announced the hat gently. "You are a curious little thing, I see."
"Is that a good thing?" You thought, and the hat chuckled lightly.
"It might be." He said mysteriously. "Interesting what I see here. Very interesting."
"What are you seeing?"
"Your memories, dear."
"Oh." You thought, feeling slightly embarrassed. That seemed like an intrusion of your privacy. The hat laughed again, and you remembered that he was on your head.
"You're hard to sort out." He says, and you squeeze the stool. "Don't worry, I'm not going to send you home, that's not how it works."
"Oh, right."
Hat was silent a few moments. 
"I see courage in your heart." He says and you try to remember the characteristics of the houses. "But that courage is well forged with your loyalty."
You swallow dryly, feeling your anxiety rising. This was definitely taking much longer than the people who went before you.
"You are as smart as your father and brother, both members of the Slytherin house." He says.  "There's a willingness not to let them down."
"That's personal." You grumble feeling your cheeks flush, but the hat doesn't care to apologize for bringing up your insecurities.
"Ah, this is interesting here. A pure kindness, yet pruned in your origins of shallow paternal affection”.
You frown, not understanding what he is saying.
"You are quite adaptable child, it has always been one of your best virtues." The hat remarks, and you get the impression that the next part is only said for you. "Tell me, where would you like to stay?"
"Isn't that your job?" You retort in thought, and hear him laugh again. You rush to correct yourself, not wanting to be rude. "Sorry, hat. I don't really know. I'd like to stay where I fit in best."
"You would do well anywhere." He retorts, and you frown. "And that's pretty impressive, you know. I haven't met another hatstall since the last century."
You swallow dryly, not knowing if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
"I'll work hard, sir." You tell him. "I don't want people to think I'm a special witch just because of my family. That's something I'm sure, I don't know if it helps you choose."
Hat lets out a sigh of relief.
"Actually, that's exactly what I needed."
It takes a moment for him to speak again, and when he does, you feel your whole body shake.
"Hufflepuff"
//-//
Steve Rogers is the head boy of Hufflepuff and he celebrates excitedly when you sit down at the table next to him.
"That's so cool" He comments. "I'll be able to tease Tony all year about it."
After that, director Agatha Harkness, made the announcement of the beginning of the year. If her goal was to scare the students, she succeeded when she talked about the deadly dangers surrounding the forbidden forest and the punishments for the disobedient. Professor Strange interrupted her speech as he cleared his throat, awkwardly waving for Agatha to stop saying such things, and the woman giggled. 
Dinner is delicious, and then you are following the crowd of students into the communal rooms. 
"Butterbeer" Steve said to the portrait on the wall, and you blinked in surprise when the painting moved to the side, a door behind.
You sighed when you realized how cozy the Hufflepuff's common room was.
"Everyone please come in." Asked Steve in the center of the room, waving to the students who stayed behind. When everyone was around him, he smiled. "The dorms are divided by gender, but you can sleep wherever you feel most comfortable. I will only suggest that none of you try to sleep with the seventh graders, because they are scary." Steve joked making the crowd laugh lightly. "We have a supply of food in those lockers, just in case you feel like having a snack in the early morning, outside of the permitted hours for walking around the castle." He continues and stands thoughtfully for a few moments. "Most of the things you need to know are on the bulletin board on that wall, and you can also ask me anything you want. Your belongings have already been taken to the free beds, but if you want any help, you can organize among yourselves or just come talk to me."
Steve smiled as the crowd moved. You headed in the direction where he said the rooms were.
//-//
You let out a surprised exclamation as something landed on your head.
"Damn, sorry!" Asked an asian girl approaching you, and pulling the small being out of your hair as you entered the room. "Groot, I told you to behave yourself."
"I am groot." Grumbled the little creature. You looked at it wide-eyed, impressed.
"Wow, is that a tree?"
The girl laughed, putting the small creature sitting on her shoulder, sitting on the bed next to the one you identified as having your things.
"Yes and no." She said. "I found Groot in my garden over the vacations, and well, I don't know what he is exactly. But I think he was trying to make my mother's plants grow."
"He's really cute." You commented approaching with your finger extended. Groot smiled, accepting your touch.
"I am Mantis." Says the girl next and you smile at her as you introduce yourself. "We're going to be roommates."
"Yes, and so is Groot." You add as you take off your cape to throw on the bed that would be yours.
After eating so well at dinner, it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep. 
You dream of glowing green eyes and a red light, but you don't recognize them or understand what it means, and when you wake up, you no longer remember.
//-//
Two weeks since you started at Hogwarts, you are used to how eccentric everything can be.
The classes weren't as difficult as you imagined, but that's probably because you've had contact with magic all your life and always had an easy time learning things. All the teachers were unique in their own way. 
Professor Rocket, for example, taught Transfiguration and spent almost the entire period transfigured into a raccoon, even outside of class hours. He was temperamental and got irritated very easily when students talked too much in his class, so it was not recommended to do so.
There was also Professor Fury, who had an eye patch as a mandatory piece in his daily costume, and all the students spent more time trying to guess how this happened, than listening to his explanations of defense spells against the dark art.
Your astronomy class on Wednesdays was taught by Professor Odin, who like to claim that he was a descendant of the Olympian gods, but no one believed him. He was also the father of two of your classmates, Thor and Loki Odinson, who were the exact opposite of each other. While Thor was warm and friendly, Loki was cold and reclusive, plus the former was from Gryffindor and the other from Slytherin. Surprisingly, you liked them both. 
You ended up meeting the head of your house only on the second day.  
Professor Heimdall taught Divination, so you wouldn't have any classes with him until the third year.You bumped into him when you were late for fifth period and had to run to the common room for your Potions books, and almost fell on the floor when you turned the corner without looking and the professor was there.  He prevented you from falling with a wave of his wand, smiling gently. 
" Forgive me." You said clumsily, feeling slightly intimidated by the yellow irises as the magic set you on your feet properly, as well as catching your books in the air and placing them in your hands again. 
"Be careful with the castle corridors, Miss Stark." Said the man, and for some reason, you thought he wasn't just talking about this little incident.
"Professor Heimdall, let's talk in a private place, please."  Asked Professor Okoye, who was standing at his side, she looked at you with a certain disapproval, and you couldn't tell whether it was because of your intrusion, or the fact that your tie was hanging loosely around your neck, in addition to the open buttons on your shirt.
After this little incident, you asked Steve who Professor Heimdall was, and he explained that he was the head of Hufflepuff, and might seem intimidating at first glance, but that he was very kind.
But so far, the professor who has intrigued you the most was Professor Erik Lehnsherr, who taught Potions. He didn't say anything that wasn't related to the subject, didn't make any comments about behavior or events at school. And he had such a stern and mysterious look in his eyes that no student had the courage to ask him anything. You heard Peter Quill make a bet with Thor Odinson that Professor Erik was unable to smile because of some particular sorcery, but you thought it best not to laugh, especially since Mr. Lehnsherr was looking at your direction.
When you had your first Potions period with Slytherin, after herbology professor T'Challa needed to reschedule classes for an appointment, you were surprised to discover that professor Lehnsherr had children.
Gamora ended up on the same bench as you, and she was talking to her sister, Nebula, about an incident that occurred in their dormitory.
"Clearly, the professors' children have an easy time getting away with punishment." Nebula bitterly remarked, and you frowned in confusion. 
"I don't think it was the girl's fault." Gamora retorted as she put the ingredients into her cauldron. She looked at you quickly, realizing that you were listening to the conversation, but she didn't scold you, she just kept stirring the mixture.
"What happened?" you asked next, and Nebula looked at you with mild irritation. She seemed about to tell you to mind your own business, but Gamora smiled, moving closer to whisper to you.
"A girl lost her temper in the Slytherin dorm bathrooms last night." She told. "She's a second year, her name is Wanda Maximoff. She and her brother are Professor Lehnsherr's kids, and everyone is saying that she didn't go to detention because of it."
Your jaw dropped, impressed. 
"I can't believe Magneto has children." You said making Gamora and Nebula laugh at the nickname. Last week you found out that the school had been calling Erik that since he stopped the hall chandelier from falling on the teachers' desk two years ago when he used non-verbal magic to attract the metal, and everyone started calling him that behind his back. Tony told you and you liked the story.
"I know right, he seems so self-contained." Gamora remarked looking back briefly. Professor Erik was focused on his own potions book.
"That noisy kid from Gryffindor said he's married." Nebula added next and Gamora laughed lightly.
"Peter Quill?"
"Yes."
"Wow, that's surprising." Says the girl. You both return to stirring your cauldrons in silence after that little conversation.
When you have finished your mixing, Professor Erik gives Hufflepuff five points for your good work, and you smile with red cheeks.
"You're nice." Nebula suddenly said beside you as you were leaving the room. Gamora stood next to her. "Do you want to walk around with us?"
"We're already walking." You joked and Gamora laughed unlike her sister who grimaced.
"Yep, definitely cool." She added. "Do you want to have lunch with us?"
"At your table or mine?"
Gamora and Nebula exchanged glances.
"I'm not sitting with Hufflepuff." Nebula declared and you sighed, rolling your eyes.
"You know I'm from Hufflepuff, right?"
"I'm reconsidering the invitation." She retorted and you frowned, but Gamora smiled at you.
"Will you sit with us, please?"
You sighed, nodding in agreement. You could talk to Tony after all.
//-//
Lunch at the Slytherin table became an everyday thing after that day. It took two weeks for Mantis to start joining you, and then you realized that you had a small group of friends now.
At Christmas, neither you nor Tony came home, because your father was working and you didn't want to be alone in the Stark mansion. You ended up turning down Tony's invitation to spend Christmas with Steve Rogers and his family, because you weren't really friends with Steve. Tony insisted, not wanting you to be alone, but you assured him that you would be fine in the company of your friends, and that he needn't worry.
On Christmas morning, Groot woke you up by jumping on your face. You laughed lightly because he was so small that he was like a tickle, and stood up as you returned the little creature to Mantis' bedside table.
A few hours later, as you were opening your presents at the Slytherin table along with Gamora, Nebula, Mantis, and Peter Quill, who had also stayed at Hogwarts for the end of the year, you let out an excited exclamation.
"I can' believe it." You spoke, opening the package in front of you. It was a large box, it was bewitched and only revealed the actual wrapping once you tore the paper off. It was actually a broom.
"Wow, that's cool." Peter remarked as he looked at your present. 
That's how you ended up in the middle of the snow, testing your new broom while your friends cheered and celebrated below you.
"Are you sure you can fly?" You asked Peter as soon as he asked you if he could ride. He shrugged, smiling.
You and the girls watched as he controlled the broom for a few feet above the ground, and then he overspeeded it and sped away.
You all ran into his direction, while the broom seemed almost annoyed at his lack of control, and knocked him into a tree. Peter fell between the branches, onto someone who was resting under it.
When you all reached him, you frowned when there was a boy pushing Quill.
"Watch it, dude!" Warned the boy, but before you could say anything, Gamora was already stepping forward, wand in hand.
"It was just an accident." She said and the boy looked at her surprised with her wand outstretched. He crossed his arms however, not looking scared.
"Oh, you're going to spell me now, are you?" He teased.
"Piss off, Maximoff." Warned Nebula next, taking a step beside her sister. So this was Pietro Maximoff. You figured that confidence should come from being the son of one of the professors.
"I suggest you leave my brother alone." Warned a voice behind you. You turned next, only to catch sight of a girl with brown hair, green eyes that glittered with anger. 
Gamora clenched her jaw, and Nebula drew her own wand toward the girl, who also had her wand in her hands.
You sighed, raising your hands as you stood in the line of fire.
"Would everyone please calm down?" You asked. "It was just a misunderstanding, and the broom is mine anyway, no need to fight about it."
It takes a moment, but Gamora puts down her wand, and everyone follows her after that. She has an insinuating smile on her face.
"You really are a Hufflepuff, aren't you Stark?" She teases, and you laugh sheepishly, putting your hands in your pockets.  "Come on Quill." 
Gamora warns and the boy shoots Pietro an ugly look as he leaves. You accept your broom that he hands to you, and turn around, your gaze meeting that of the girl who is supposed to be Wanda Maximoff for a moment. You feel your face heat up at the intensity of the angry look, and you look away, following your friends.
//-//
The months went by quickly as the rest of the school year passed. You managed to do very well on the exams, and didn't get involved in any near-fights again.
When the year ended and the Hufflepuff didn't win the House Cup, you thought you should have been more upset, but you didn't mind having Gamora and Nebula celebrating beside you, laughing and hugging you excitedly.
You also didn't understand why you felt your stomach turn when you caught Wanda Maximoff smiling amidst the Slytherin celebration when you looked around.
515 notes · View notes
healersadjust · 2 years ago
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THIS ONE. YEA.
i’ve been wanting to write how this all went down for a few weeks now, and somehow i made it sadder than what i planned initially. thank you so so much for getting the train rolling with your prompt @blucifermain !!!! it went longer than i meant for it to, it’s about 600 words and i had a stronger ending in mind, but i cut it short so we didn’t get any higher than that ;;
spoilers for 5.0
"Anything that comes out of your mouth is stupid!" Aki shouted, glaring the Exarch down. “Why summon me to this god forsaken world and then keep all these secrets from me? I had a glimmer of hope, seeing the Crystal tower…” She clenched her fist, slamming it into the wall. “And the only person who truly knew me should have been here! and in his place, some stupid mage who dosent have the decency to tell the truth!”
Was she… talking about him?
“I won’t ask again,” she spoke, her voice barley above a whisper. She glared at him accusingly. “Where is Raha?”
The urge to crumble, to take his hood off and beg for her forgiveness, to finally feel her body next to his after so, so long… it was almost irresistible.
And it was all too late for it. With only a couple light wardens to go, she would be doomed if his plan failed, as well as the entire shard.
His silence was a clear enough answer for her. She scoffed. “I should have known better than getting my hopes up. I will take my next orders from you through a messenger, Exarch.” She turned around and slammed the door behind her.
He walked to the door and locked it. He turned to examine the mess of the Ocular. Books, priceless artifacts strewn across the floor, many of their pages having been ripped out of place. It was a disaster- and one of his own doing, nonetheless.
He sat on the ground, his back to the door. Truly, he was deserving of her rage. He simply hadn’t expected her to still be so attached.
Just as attached to him as he was to her.
And for her to call him his given name was beyond shocking. He hadn’t heard that name in over 100 years, and longer since it had been spoken like that.
What would she say when he took the light from her? Should he reveal himself then, if just for a selfish moment of letting his eyes unglamored meet hers? Even if just for a moment, he could pretend things were okay again. That they were back sharing a tent in Mor Dhona. That they were young, restless adventurers with all too much pent up energy once more. That they were hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, on a cot only made for one.
He didn’t deserve it, not anymore. He didn’t deserve it after leaving her like that.
His attention was caught by his mirror. He stood up and made his way through the mess on the floor to stand in front of it. That was his fate, until his death. He would watch the world from his tower, never knowing true joy again.
And so, he found himself casting a familiar spell on it before he could stop himself.
“I don’t know why I thought his answer would be any different,” Aki sobbed into Thancred’s chest. The gunbreaker held her tightly, whispering reassurances G’raha couldn’t quite hear through the Mirror.
“He just sounds so like him- And i’m certain he’s a Miqo’te as well! But he didn’t even react when i said his name- Is he truly gone?” she asked through hiccups.
Thancred shook his head. “There’s no way to know,” he said softly. “But let's get you some water and some rest. Doubtless you will need it.”
G’raha cut the connection, having already seen more than he deserved. He was relieved someone was there for her, but that couldn’t lift his heavy heart.
If only he was deserving of being by her side. If only he could be there for her like he once was…
But that ship sailed the moment he stepped on the First.
22 notes · View notes
streetlight11 · 3 years ago
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Love Notes
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Summary: People usually mistake Slytherins as the mean and nasty ones. Nobody told you that you would be stuck with the loud and obnoxious boy from Gryffindor. One day during your fifth year, you started receiving anonymous notes in your books, pockets, table, etc. The question is, who gave them to you?
Theme: Hogwarts au, enemies to lovers
Genre: fluff, angst [not really]
Warnings: none
WC: 4.9k
Pairing: Gryffindor!Haknyeon x Slytherin!FemReader
a/n: Hi again :) I've been binge watching Harry Potter movies for the past few days and I love it so much. So here's a little Hogwarts fic with Hakkie! Do send me requests if you have any! I'm open to writing them :)
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Going to Hogwarts was probably the best thing to happen to you. And getting yourself sorted into Slytherin house was also the best thing to ever happen to you. Except, nobody told you that you would have a horrendous time being in the same classes as the loud and obnoxious boy from Gryffindor.
His name?
Was Ju Haknyeon.
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“Did you lose your way to class again today?” Haknyeon teased when you arrived at your seat that just so happens to be right in front of him. You were in your fifth year and yet he has never once gone a day without getting on a single nerve on your body.
“Did you lose your pacifier on your way here cause you can’t seem to keep your mouth shut.” You scowled at him only to earn a soft chuckle from him.
“Look who’s talking now…” Haknyeon smirks, earning a kick to his desk from you. Your seat partner and also one of your close friends, Wooyoung couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the said boy.
Professor Snape finally dismissed the class as everyone quickly scrambled out of the room. You were walking with Wooyoung and Yeosang as the former began rambling about his terrible date yesterday when you suddenly felt an arm over your shoulder. The last person you hoped for it to be, ends up proving you wrong the minute he spoke.
“Hey hey, have you practiced for the Quidditch game this season? Wouldn’t wanna lose your Quidditch title to other houses.” Haknyeon whispered into your ear, making you push his face away.
“Do you ever shut up?” You said as he smirked, casually pursing his lips into a kissy face.
You rolled your eyes at him, elbowing his stomach to make him leave your side. Haknyeon left your side for a brief moment before coming back to you to stop in front of you while leaning down a little to match your height. Once he was right in front of you, he smirked cheekily at you.
“I won’t shut up when I’m with you, darling.” He whispered.
You cupped his face with both hands, only to lean in to let your lips hover over his as you whispered under your breath, “Don’t make me do it for you, sweetheart.” The moment you pulled away from him and began to walk away, Haknyeon could’ve sworn he felt his heart skip a few beats.
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“Now, class, please open to page 367.” Professor McGonagall announced as you heard the sounds of pages being turned. You did the same, flipping the pages a few at a time until a slip of note drops out from your book. It was a pretty blue colour that has been folded into the shape of a flower.
“Did you put this in my book?” You asked Wooyoung who was seated beside you, only for him to shake his head. Just then, a voice came from behind you.
“Oh look, the Slytherin’s princess got herself a love note.” Haknyeon said. It annoyed you to the point where you had to cast a spell on him from under your desk to shut him up for 2 hours. A few weeks have gone by and you have been getting anonymous notes slipped into your textbooks, locker, and sometimes even in your coat pockets.
However, all the notes always end up in your bag, never touched or read before.
It was a Thursday afternoon and you were just walking into your Transfiguration class when a female student from Hufflepuff came up to you giddily excited as she informed you what she saw.
“Omg Y/N! Someone gave you a rose and a letter! It’s on your desk!” She squeaked, allowing a couple of eyes to land on you, who was standing at the back of the class with Wooyoung and Yeosang. With that being said, you glanced over to your desk to find that she was right.
However, you noticed that Haknyeon’s table was empty. Maybe he finally got sick and couldn’t come to class today.
“The Slytherin’s princess got a gift today huh? That’s new.”
Maybe not.
Haknyeon said casually as he strolls past you with his hands tucked into his pant’s pockets while he makes his way over to his desk. You rolled your eyes at the back of his head before walking up to your desk and soon took the rose and note only to stuff it in your bag.
“Why don’t you read it outloud for all of us to hear, darling? I’m sure your admirer would love to see the way your eyes turn into heart shapes for them.” Haknyeon smirked.
You couldn’t lie, Haknyeon has in fact gotten slightly more manlier in built and also a bit more nicer looking in terms of his face features.
Which is why you’d be damned if you admitted out loud that your heart did a little flip when he smirked at you.
“The last person I’d wanna read it aloud to is you so no, that won’t happen.” You grumbled before sitting down at your desk. Wooyoung couldn’t help but chuckle as he told you about Haknyeon's offended face he made after you said that.
A few hours later, everyone was making their way back to their common rooms after dinner. You were just walking towards the Slytherin’s common room when Felix spoke up to you, “Hey, is it true you’ve been getting love notes from someone in class?”
“I don’t know what they are, I’ve never opened them.” You confessed, earning a few gasps from your friends.
“Aren’t you even a slight bit curious?” Minho asked.
“Look, I doubt it’s even real. It might just be a prank from someone. I don’t know…” You said almost confidently.
“Oh come on, just open one and see what it says. It doesn’t hurt to read one.” Wooyoung encouraged you as you rolled your eyes at him. It was already after hours. Everyone was asleep except you. So you quietly tip-toed your way to the living area, only to sit near the green fireplace with your bag filled with the notes you kept for the past 5 weeks. You took one of the notes out and soon unfolded it one after another.
“You look pretty today.”
“Your eyes sparkle like the green flames of your house.”
“You make me forget why I’m in this class.”
“Your smile could cure my sadness.”
“If only the clouds would make way for a sunshine like you”
“Don’t lose that smile, it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen”
“Are you a love potion? Cause I feel like I’ve fallen in love with you”
You then happened to take out the note that was attached to the rose you got earlier in which it said;
“A pretty flower for a pretty girl like you.”
And the list goes on and on as you read them. However, one thing you noticed was the lack of initials, leaving these notes anonymous.
“Who are you?”
This question swirls in your head as you keep these notes in a little treasure chest your mom gave you for your 15th birthday.
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You were on your way to the Quidditch field to play for the Quidditch Tournament with your team members. Upon making it to the courtyard, you just so happen to bump into Haknyeon. You noticed the Red and Gold striped sweater, along with his pants and a cloak in contrast to your full Quidditch attire together with the arms and leg gears.
“Hey guys, mind if I steal ‘yours truly’ for a moment? I promise I’ll bring her back to you guys in one whole.” Haknyeon smiles innocently to your friends, earning a few snickers from them but they nonetheless left you alone with him.
Once they were out of sight, you turned to him with a frown.
“What do you want now, Ju? And make it quick. I have a game to win.” You snapped, earning a chuckle from him.
“Relax beasty, I won’t hold you back for long.”
“So what do you want?”
“You know this is a seasonal championship right?”
“And?”
“And this year’s winner will be titled the Season’s Champion, yes?”
“O...kay?” You raised an eyebrow at him in question, not sure where this conversation was heading to.
“So let’s make a bet.”
You started to laugh as you clutched your stomach, afraid of growing six packs while you did that. Unfortunately, you didn’t get the same response from him which made you confused and eventually stopped.
“A bet? You wanna make a bet? Sure. You’ll only be crying at the end of it cause Slytherin’s gonna take the prize home.”
“Hmm, I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. So let’s make a bet.” Haknyeon urges you again, to which you couldn’t help but agree just so you could prove him wrong.
“Fine. If Slytherin wins, you’re gonna leave me alone for the rest of the year.” You said.
“And if Gryffindor wins, you have to go on 3 dates with me.” He announced. You weren’t gonna lie, you were a little shocked by his proposal but you didn’t want to back out now so you shook hands on it.
“Deal.”
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“Choi Jongho has gotten the snitch! Gryffindor wins!” Lee Jordan, the commentator from Gryffindor announced as you slammed your fist onto your broomstick. You’ve lost a few times before throughout your 5 years in Hogwarts but today was a little different as you had your bet with Haknyeon hanging by a thread.
You were floating about 10 feet away from Gryffindor’s stand, your gaze naturally fleeting to the left only to lock eyes with the blonde haired devil from Gryffindor who had a smirk on his face before he mouthed something so clear to you.
“I win.”
You couldn’t even respond to him so you simply flew down and back into your pitch tent along with the rest of your teammates. After you were done with post-game preps, you all began to make your way back to your common rooms.
It wasn’t until you were at the grand staircase that you bumped into Haknyeon and his friends. He gave you a cheeky little wink before snapping his fingers and soon, you felt a slip of paper magically appear in your hands.
You kept it in your hands until you went back, only opening it when you were in your bed.
“Nice game. I hope you don’t forget about our bet. See you at Three Broomsticks Inn, this Saturday. 12pm. Don’t be late. Oh, and, wear prettily ;) - JHN”
You were definitely in for a treat.
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The day finally came as you made an excuse to your friends saying you couldn’t go with them to Hogsmeade because you promised to help Ginny with her Muggle studies. The minute they left, you got upstairs to change out of your pyjamas and into some comfortable jeans, a sweater, a denim jacket and a pair of worn out sneakers.
You teleported to Hogsmeade using the Floo Powder your mom gave you just in case you needed to rush home due to an emergency.
You arrived at a dark alley in Hogsmeade, making sure your friends weren’t around before you left the safety of that alley. Carefully walking past some villagers, you found your way to the Inn without getting caught. With one gentle push of the wooden door, you were immediately greeted by the bustling customers.
You looked around the room to find for the devil who shall not be named and Lord Behold, he waves over to you from one of the tables across the room. You almost lost your footing when you saw what he wore.
It was almost as if he knew what you were going to wear. He was wearing black pants with a denim jacket. Simple yet so good looking.
You went over to him only to sit on his left where it was nearer to the edge of the semi circle couch.
“You’re late, you know?” Haknyeon laughs.
“Yeah but I’m here aren’t I?” You scoffed softly under your breath, earning a little giggle from him.
“On our first date too? You’re a terrible one.” He joked.
“Fine then. Go find someone who’s on time for your date, maybe they’ll actually arrive earlier than you.” Right before you could slide out of the seat, Haknyeon gently grabs your wrist to stop you.
“Relax, I’m just kidding… Come on, butterbeer on me. Deal?” He asked, shaking his wallet in between his fingers as though telling you he really meant it when he said he’ll pay for it.
Of course you couldn’t let this moment up, which is why you agreed to it. Unfortunately, right before he could slide out the opposite end of the table, your eyes flew over to the front doors where the bell chimed indicating a customer. That’s when you saw your friends walking in and you could’ve sworn they would see you in a matter of seconds if they just turned to the left slightly.
“Oh shit!” You cursed as you grabbed hold of Haknyeon’s collar only to drag him out of the table and soon towards the back. Haknyeon was a little taken aback by your sudden aggression as he began to ask you a series of questions.
You quickly pulled him behind one of the pillars, shoving him against the concrete wall as you peeked past the pillar.
“Okay, if you want to kill me, at least do it when we’re in private.” He teased you.
“Shut up. My friends are here. I lied to them saying I can’t join them.” You whispered, trying to see if your friends wouldn’t make it to the back. What you didn’t realize was the way Haknyeon was discreetly checking you out.
“You know, for a Slytherin, you’re not as sly as you think you are. What makes you think they can’t figure out it’s you from a dist-”
“Kiss me.”
You suddenly spoke as he stared at you with wide eyes. He almost couldn’t believe his ears when you said that.
“What?”
“I said kiss me!” You loudly whispered but your eyes were frantically flickering back and forth to something behind him.
However, right before you could yell at him, you felt him snaking his right arm around your waist while the other hand reached up to cup your cheek, pulling you into a soft and gentle kiss. You fluttered your eyelids close as he turned you so that his back would be facing the open area while your smaller form gets shielded from the public eye.
You could hear your friend’s voices getting closer and closer and eventually made their way past Haknyeon’s back. You could’ve sworn you heard some of them snicker and scoff at your unknown presence.
Once they are gone, Haknyeon pulls back from you with the softest sound as he caresses your cheek for a moment.
Suddenly your heart was picking up speed against your chest. You locked eyes with him for a second or two, feeling him tilt his head slightly to make his lips brush over yours again purposely before pulling away completely.
“I reckon we should leave?” He chuckled, making you nod.
“Yes please.”
With that being said, he let you leave the hiding spot first, making sure he used his body to block you from unwanted view.
A few hours passed where he took you to a few of his favourite shops in Hogsmeade, including some personal spots around town where he usually goes when he needs space to be by himself. You were now making your way back to the castle as you both managed to not quarrel for more than a minute of being with each other.
You must admit, it was nice getting to know Haknyeon better instead of fighting with him like usual.
It has been four days since your first date with Haknyeon and again, you still received the notes. This time, it said;
“You’re cute. Can I keep you?”
With that, you couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle.
“What? Did the person who gave you those letters finally revealed himself?” Wooyoung asked from beside you, only for you to show him the note.
“No, but isn’t it tiring to keep thinking of cheesy love notes to write almost everyday?” You whispered to him upon hearing Professor McGonagall enter the class.
“Well, I would say this person is totally head over heels for you to even write these from day 1.” Wooyoung speaks utter nonsense most of the time, but maybe he made some sense today.
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You were on your second date with Haknyeon, as he promised to take you on a ride. What ride might I ask? Not just any ride. He was taking you on a ride on a Hippogriff.
“Are you sure we won’t get in trouble for this? I really don’t want to be expelled.” You warned him as he laughed at you.
“Aren’t you being a little too goody two shoes for a Slytherin?” Haknyeon teased, only to get a good slap to his arm from you.
“Say anything stupid again and I swear you’ll be the one swimming in the lake with the damn Lochness.” You threatened as he raised his arms in a surrender but there was a wide grin on his face. Something you’ve grown to adore these days.
With that, he soon hops on the magical creature easily, leaving you nervous. Haknyeon had his hand extended out for you to take but you were afraid.
“Y/N come on, we don’t have forever!” He said.
“What if I fall?” You panicked but you ended up unconsciously whining, making him giggle.
“I won’t let you fall. I promise. Now come on, darling.” Haknyeon jerks his hand to you again, only for you to stare at it for a bit before you finally take his hand into yours. He easily pulled you up and onto the animal’s back. You sat in front of him while you gently grabbed onto the creature’s neck, being careful that you don’t accidentally harm it.
“Okay Buckbeak, show us whatchu got.” Haknyeon said as he gave the creature a few pats to its belly and soon, the creature took off flying into the sky. You let out a scream, hugging the neck tightly while Haknyeon holds onto nothing.
He clearly had more experience than you in terms of flying on this creature’s back.
You had your eyes closed the entire time even when you felt the smooth glide across the air. Still being stubborn to open your eyes, you felt him tap your shoulders.
“Y/N come on! Open your eyes! You’re missing out on the view!” His voice sounded so excited behind you, it almost made you believe it wasn’t the same boy who has been a living nuisance to you all these while.
“No way! I’m just gonna panic even more if I see how high we are!” You yelled over the loud gush of wind that might be rendering your hearing.
“I promise we’ll be fine, just open your eyes! Trust me!” Haknyeon reassured you as you felt him gently slide his hands down your arms and onto your wrist to pull them away from the creature’s neck. You shook your head desperately, hoping he’d leave you alone. Unfortunately for you, he didn’t.
Instead, he thought it would be a good idea to scare you. Maybe that way you’ll finally open your eyes.
And you did.
Because the minute you heard him yell for help, you immediately opened your eyes and turned around only to find him seated firmly on Buckbeak’s back with his arms crossed over his chest.
“You bloody piece of shit!” You huffed in annoyance as you turned back around only for Buckbeak to playfully tilt his body up to make you fall back slightly. That’s when a string of curses left your lips while you desperately grabbed onto its neck.
“Don’t do that Buckbeak!” You scolded the animal, only to get a little sound from him. Just then, Haknyeon decides to challenge you.
“Wanna know what it feels to fly?”
“Uhh, no?”
“It’ll be fun. Here.” Haknyeon said as he slowly reached over to grab your wrists while his firm chest softly pressed against your back but for some reason, it made you feel some sort of safety.
“W-What are you doing?” You stuttered, only for him to smile and soon spoke into your ears leaving a soft tingling feel to your skin.
“Just trust me.”
With that being said, he gently spreads your arms out on either side of you, making them act like wings for you. As Buckbeak glided through the air, you imagined you were flying until you heard him whisper into your ear, “Close your eyes.”
You did as he said, only for it to enhance the imagination. A smile naturally appears on your lips as you completely didn’t see the way he was staring at you from beside you. Ignoring the way his hands found your waist and left it there for the rest of the ride.
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It was your third and final date for the bet you made with him. For some odd reason, you didn’t want it to end but of course you couldn’t tell him that. So when you met him at the lake, you looked slightly down and he noticed. Haknyeon wouldn’t let this slide easily which is why he decided to tease you about it.
“What’s with the long face, darling? Already attached to me?”
You scoffed as you approached him by the swing only for you to take a seat at the wooden plank beside his seated figure on the grass patch.
“So what? This was just for the bet anyway.” You mumbled under your breath, not realizing that he heard you.
The next few minutes went by like how your previous dates went. Constant teasing, playful jokes and banter, friendly chats and even random fights that involve you throwing a handful of dead leaves at him while he scoops water from the lake and proceeds to toss it at you.
At the end of this short date, you had just arrived at the end of the wooden bridge when he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from walking any further.
“I just remembered I promised my friends I’d meet them at the Three Broomsticks Inn in like 5 minutes so I have to leave you from here on.” He said.
“Right…” You said, your voice sounded a little sad.
“I guess the bet’s over. Thanks… for... well, going on the dates with me.” Haknyeon said, eyes flickering back and forth between your eyes and the wooden panels behind you.
“A bet’s a bet right? I’d be a wimp if I didn’t do it.” You smiled.
There was a beat of awkward silence as you got ready to leave when he said something that made your stomach flip.
“That’s it? No goodbye kiss? I thought this was a date?” Haknyeon pouted, keeping his gaze on you as stable as possible. You almost couldn’t believe your ears.
Did he just ask you for a kiss?
“I… Umm… Okay?” You stuttered in confusion, earning a soft little giggle from him.
However, the nerves soon disappear the minute he takes a step closer and soon wraps one hand around your waist while the other cups your face before he leans down to let his lips seal yours. You instantly fluttered your eyes shut, letting your hands rest on his chest.
The kiss felt so genuine, you almost forgot how you used to fight with this same boy 24/7. Haknyeon smiled against your lips as he pulled back for air shortly before kissing you again.
His lips were intoxicating, you almost forgot how to breathe. Haknyeon gives you a cheeky little lick to your bottom lip as he soon pulls away from you, leaving you breathless. You pressed your forehead softly against his as you kept your eyes shut, too embarrassed to look at him at this point.
His chuckle fills your ears as he cups your face with both hands and whispers against your lips.
“Go. Be safe. Avoid the common grounds, that’s where Filch always lurks around.” Soon after, he gave your lips another peck before you felt wind whooshing around you. Immediately, his touch left you and it almost made you crumble to the ground.
What did he do to you?
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A few days later, you were just having lunch with everyone else at their respective house tables and your friends surrounded you when you saw a note slipping past from under your plate. A pretty baby blue one that is. You carefully unfolded it, only to see it read;
“I realized I was thinking of you, and I began to wonder how long you’ve been on my mind. Then it occurred to me: Since the day I met you, you’ve never left.”
For some reason, those words meant something to you.
It was as though you knew this person and have created some sort of a bond with them. And yet, you still don’t know who. However, you do now have a little suspicion on who it was and who these notes belonged to. So to test your theory, you looked up from your table, almost immediately catching the eyes of the same pair of brown ones you’ve grown accustomed to.
Haknyeon was already staring like he knew you were going to find him. What surprised you the most is the fact that he didn’t even flinch when you caught him.
You held eye contact for a second before you got cut off by Wooyoung putting a scoopful of mashed potatoes onto your plate. You gave the boy a little smack to his head, earning a choke from him. When you looked back over to Haknyeon, he was already talking to his friend with the back of his head facing you.
A few hours later, you were having your Potions class when a note popped out of nowhere from under your book. To avoid getting minus points from Snape, you quickly shoved the note into your cloak pocket and yet you still got called by the Head of Slytherin for not paying attention.
Therefore, having to serve detention.
You could only curse him in your head while you cleaned every single flask and cauldron pots till they were spick and span.
Once you were done, you left the room only to find Haknyeon leaning against the wall with one leg bent to rest his foot on the wall. He was busy playing with his Patronus charm when his eyes flicked up upon hearing the door open.
“Haknyeon? What are you doing here? Don’t we have Transfiguration right now?” You loudly whispered as you approached him only to drag him towards the end where you were hidden from Snape’s office door. Once you were hiding behind the pillar, you turned to peek past the wall with Haknyeon right in front of you.
The hallway was empty thanks to the classes going on currently but that doesn’t mean you were free from not being caught out of class.
“I told Professor McGonagall I’m having stomach aches so she excused me to go to the hospital wing.” Haknyeon explained, only for you to frown.
“And why were you waiting outside Snape’s office, might I ask?”
“To see you.”
“You couldn’t wait till I come to class?” You asked with a slight tease in your voice.
“Needed to see you right after detention, so that I could do this.”
With that being said, he easily captures you into a kiss. You sighed through your nose as you cupped his neck to pull him closer to you. Haknyeon wraps his arms around your waist, letting himself trap you against the wall and his body. You changed your head positions to be at a slightly more comfortable state, feeling him squeeze your sides.
Just then, he pulled away for a breath, making it easy for you to slip in the question.
“All those notes were from you, weren’t they?”
Haknyeon grew quiet for a moment but then decided to just come clean with you. After all, that’s what he has been wanting to do anyway.
“Are you disappointed?”
“I would be if you told me this 4 weeks ago… But now? Not so much.” You smiled.
“Really?” He asked.
“Would I do this if I was disappointed?” You asked only to kiss him again. Haknyeon smirks against your lips as you feel him lift you up and spin you around. When he placed you back down, he gave you a peck on the lips and soon spoke up.
“Should I stop giving you notes then?”
“Go ahead. Cause I’ve already won the prize.”
“You sure have.”
~~~
156 notes · View notes
dilucsrevenge · 3 years ago
Note
Hey! I wanted to ask for a fanfic with Childe. Literally anything with this teasing ginger would be great! I would love some fingering or face fucking if that’s okay!
i will say i have gone EXTREMELY overboard with this one. more than i normally would
warnings: a little bit of degradation? just roughness in general. fem reader!
wc: 2,485 (im sorry...)
nsfw warning under the cut
Nothing could have prepared you for the night you were going to have after you accepted Childe’s offer of taking you out for lunch. You were certain it would be just an innocent and fun thing between the two of you, but you were extremely mistaken. Things had been flirtatious between the two of you for some time now; the occasional suggestive content had been thrown back and forth between the two of you. Many people made comments on the lingering tension between you and Childe, but you’d always nervously laugh it off. You hadn’t expected that this had been his plan the whole time. His long-term and extremely devious plan to get you wrapped around his fingers.
It all started when you met up with Childe outside of Wanmin Restaurant, you found him leaning against a wall as if he had been waiting for hours for you. Which you knew wasn’t true when you checked the time, you had arrived fifteen minutes early when you found yourself having some extra free time. Childe looked up when you stepped close to him, his arms crossed over his shoulders with a teasing smirk on his face.
“You’ve kept me waiting, how disappointing.” His voice was filled with the same amount of smugness that you could see on his face, earning a groan and a disapproving roll of your eyes.
“I’m fifteen minutes early, you would think someone in the Fatui would have important things to do instead of standing around idly looking pretty.” You immediately regretted your compliment to him, shaking your head slightly when you saw his smirk growing even wider on his face.
Before he could even speak, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him towards the counter of the restaurant, ordering the food you knew the two of you regularly got here. You continued to pull him to the closest table outside of the restaurant, but you were taken by surprise when you noticed Childe took the seat beside you instead of directly across from you. The thought didn’t linger long in your head when you felt his hand ghosting over the top of your thigh.
“Am I not supposed to comment on the fact that you called me pretty?” Childe whispered out his words, making sure that only the two of you were the ones that would be able to hear them.
You heard him laugh as soon as you shied away from his gaze, your cheeks instantly feeling like they were on fire. Sure, it was the truth that you found him attractive to look at but you had sworn that you would never say it to him. He already had high enough of an ego, you didn’t want to add to his reasoning behind it. Luckily for you, before you had to respond to him the food you had ordered was placed down on the table in front of you.
Childe’s hand was still placed on your thigh as you tried to focus on the food in front of you, instead, your mind was completely focused on the fact that his fingertips were tracing circles against the fabric of your pants, inching further your leg the longer you pretended to ignore his touch.
You heard Childe let out a loud huff as he moved in his chair, immediately missing his touch to your thigh when his hand was removed. It almost looked like you were getting under his skin in some way, which you didn’t mind. He was an extremely fun person to mess with, especially when he didn’t get his way and got easily aggravated. You would never admit that seeing him this frustrated just brought thoughts to your mind of other ways you could purposely get him annoyed.
The lunch with Childe went on as expected, your casual conversion flowing like normal between the two of you but there was something slightly different this time. You kept catching him staring at your lips as you ate, a few times you caught him looking and he’d quickly clear his throat and focus his attention on anything else. As you were about to leave the restaurant, you felt his hand on your thigh again, his breath against your neck that sent shivers down your spine.
“I have a surprise for you that I think you’ll like. You just need to trust me.” His breath fanned out against your skin, a small laugh coming from him after he gently nipped a spot along your jawline.
You didn’t trust Childe too much, but you figured you would entirely trust him this time. You were interested in whatever he had to show you, anyways. After the tension of the lunch you had with him there was no way this wasn’t something you wouldn’t be interested in. You were interested in Childe alone, anyways.
After you arrived at your place, you were confused. Childe had something to you but he took you to your place in the end. But as soon as the two of you stepped inside your place, you were filled with shock as Childe gripped your hips and pinned you against the wall not far from the door.
“I’ve spent so much time with you on my mind. It’s driving me crazy,” his voice was harsh, his lips instantly attacking your neck as they had at the restaurant, “there’s nothing I’ve wanted more than you, and yet you have been the hardest thing for me to grasp.”
There was no time for you to reply to him when you felt his hand toying with the waistband of your pants, your gaze focused on his hands instead of the way he was looking at you like a predator looking at their prey before they pounced. His hand was still gripping onto your waist which made you even more surprised when you felt another hand cradling your chin to lift your gaze to match his.
“I want you to look at me. It’s about time I get to see you unravel at my touch.” While he was speaking, his fingers had finally slipped under the waistband of your pants, a soft groan passing by your lips as his fingers just barely grazed where you apparently needed his touch the most.
By now, Childe definitely had you wrapped around his fingers more than he ever had previously. And in an almost literal sense when you felt his finger brushing against your clothed clit, the sensation getting a soft moan to leave your lips. You groaned when he got this noise out of you, eyeing him with malice in your look when you noticed the smug smirk on his lips. You didn’t want to give into Childe that easily, but it was hard to not submit to him when he had you weak.
“I can feel how wet you are just from how little I’ve done to you,” he was smug again, his ego dripping from every edge of his words, “I can only imagine how weak you will be for me when my fingers are finally inside of you.”
“Ah… c’mon,” you whispered out between soft moans, hanging your head forward to rest against his shoulder, “don’t tease me, Childe.”
His knee nudged your thighs apart, giving his fingers more room to work on you as he slipped his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, goosebumps rising on your skin from his touch. You were putty under his touch when he started gliding his fingers against your clit without any barrier, moans instantly falling from your lips before he even had time to really get to work with his fingers. You could just tell that he was smug from how quickly he could get you weak and under his spell from the smirk on his face once again, his ego came into play when he started to playfully dip his fingers into your entrance, humming softly when he felt how wet and welcoming you were to his touch.
“I knew you’d be so good for me, but I never expected this out of you.” Childe’s fingers finally pressed their way inside of you, moans of his name spilling past your lips this time.
You couldn’t help but grind down into his touch. He was going too slow for what you needed out of him at the moment, and you wanted to do anything to encourage him to pick up the pace. But he wasn’t having it; he hated that you were showing how impatient you were and he wanted to play with that. After just a few thrusts of his fingers into you, he pulled them out and went back to gently grazing his fingers against your clit. You were eager for his touch, your hips still grinding down against him to get more out of his light touch than he wanted to give you.
“If you’re so eager to be pleased, who don’t you show me that you deserve it?” His tone was much more serious than it had been all evening, a much more dominating tone to match the submissiveness of your actions.
You just nodded your head and he removed his hand, his fingers going to your mouth to encourage you to wrap your lips around his digits to clean them off. He let out a satisfied hum as you eagerly welcome his fingers into your mouth to clean them off. Before you could finish cleaning his fingers off, he pulled them away and gripped onto your shoulders to push you down and guide you down onto your knees.
You gazed up at him, pleading with your eyes for him to do anything. Instead of him touching you or giving you anything you wanted, his fingers stumbled over unbuckle the belt of his pants. He cursed under his breath at the time it took, exhaling a heavy breath when he was finally able to unbutton his pants and push them off his hips along with his boxers underneath them. You were immediately how surprised at how hard he was since he had been teasing you at your arousal from him doing nothing to you but he was even worse than you were at this point.
“C’mon, don’t be shy. I know you’ve wanted this for a while,” he whispered out, his head tipping down to point you towards his cock that was now in front of your face, “I’ve seen how you look at me when things get intense between us.”
Childe wasn’t wrong about any of this, so without any hesitation you reached up to wrap your hand around his length loosely, pumping your hand slowly to get a moan out of him you were quickly satisfied with. Since you had him in your hands now, you figured you’d take your time to finally tease him as he had over time. You twirled your tongue around the tip of his length as well, getting another moan out of him and a thrust of his hips towards you. There was nothing more than you wanted to please him, but you figured he deserved payback for everything he had done to you.
‘You are so… aggravating…” he groaned out his words while his fingers tangled into your hair, pushing your head forward in hopes that he’d encourage you to get to work faster.
He was sick of waiting for you to pick up the pace, he leaned over to grip onto your jaw when you opened up your mouth to tease him again, pushing his hips forward to fully thrust into your mouth without any remorse. At first, you gagged and you could watch the smirk still on his face at this and you knew that he was the one still in charge here. He didn’t let go of his thrusting into your mouth, in fact, he kept up the pace and used his grip on your hair as leverage to keep the pace of his thrusts.
The quick pace of Childe’s thrusts caused saliva to drip down your chin, tears swelling up in the corners of your eyes after a few drips of saliva had fallen from your chin to your legs below from his thrusts. He almost reveled in the sounds of your gags as he ruthlessly thrust into your mouth, smiling each time he saw tears falling down your cheeks.
“Look at you, doing so good for me,” his voice came out softly, mumbled out between moans of his own, “you’ve been reduced to nothing but a slut for my cock. I love it so much.”
The words from him encouraged you to keep pleasing him, tucking your thumb into the palm of your hand with your nail digging into your skin to take your mind off of the feeling of Childe’s length relentlessly hitting the back of your throat. You’d do anything to make sure he didn’t see any weakness in you, but you knew that he couldn’t see past the tears down your cheeks and saliva dripping from your mouth.
“Jesus… fuck... “ he muttered out, his eyes closing in an attempt to completely focus, “your mouth is fucking perfect. You were fit to take my cock.” He punctuated his words with the thrusts of his hips, getting more loud gags from you to for his pleasure.
Within minutes, the momentum of his thrusts quickly started to get messy and irrational, almost like he was just chasing out his high instead of doing something that was calm and calculated. There wasn’t much you could do as you desperately watched him, thrusting into your mouth relentlessly. You were at his disposal at this point, submitting to every thought he had as you were wrapped around his fingers.
“I’m… fuck… fuck, I’m gonna cum. Your mouth is fucking precious.” He whispered out softly, grunting loudly after a few more rough thrusts towards your mouth.
Your senses were quickly overwhelmed with the salty taste of Childe’s cum after a few rough thrusts from him, your gag reflex hitting you first before you got used to the feeling of his load dripping down your throat. The warm feeling in your mouth and throat had you more than pleased even though you hadn’t been the one who had gotten off for the night.
As he pulled out of your mouth, you watched a string of saliva mixed with his cum follow the trail, smiling when the string finally snapped and resorted to landing on your chin.
“God, I don’t think I’ll get over this image You messy for me after I’ve come into your mouth.” He shook his head, using his thumb to clean off the mess on your chin, pushing his thumb into your mouth for you to eventually clean off the digit.
221 notes · View notes
kusagrasskusa · 4 years ago
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Gaara X Innocent! Reader - "Hellfire"
Gaara's age is bumped up to 16 in this btw, and the reader is 16 as well. This takes place the night Gaara kills that one Sound Ninja on the rooftop, during the chunin exams. Also, Gaara might be considered a Yandere, but I don't know (you'll see why lol) Lastly, when I talk about Gaara burning, I mean it metaphorically. Yes, this is 100% based off The Hunchback of Notre Dame
FYI! This story isn't very romantic so if you're a fan of slightly darker stories, go ahead snd read this I suppose. Plus Y/N is kinda a coward in this
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There he sat, on top of the rooftop late at night. Tomorrow would be the full moon, when Gaara's power would increase in perfect timing for another battle in the chunin exams. Competition is getting tough and examtakers are either extra aggressive with everyone or forming alliances. Not only that, but so many people are winning each challenge that too few people are being eliminated. That's all that's important and all that will be important until the Sand Village finally finishes off Konoha with the help of the Sound Village. But how, even with these much more important factors, is the only thing Gaara could think about is some normal pediatrician girl?
The moment he met her in the streets, a flame was set in his heart. He had been walking through Konoha after register for the exams and noticed a pretty young girl running through the streets, shouting for help. All she received was weird glances and eye rolls, however Gaara and his siblings caught on. Much to his sister and brother's surprise, Gaara had no problems hearing her pleas and then defending her. Someone had been following her; someone who her family had bad history with and from the looks of it, that person planned to hurt her.
He had no problems escorting her home and listening to her talk along the way. Her voice was so soft, her colorful kimono and flowers in her hair fitting for someone with an innocent and sweet personality. She seemed to be oblivious to the mysterious looks of Gaara and his siblings, or the way Gaara was so cold and silent. She payed no mind and spoke to him as id he was normal; like he was human. And it was that fact, her ignoring his dangerous aura, that lit that flame.
After since that day, that flame grew so strong. Every set of bright shades of the colors she wore on her clothes, every flower that she decorated herself with, every word or item that she mentioned in the little time she spoke to him, and everyone with E/C eyes would make him think of her. That sweet, kind, oblivious girl. It's like she cast a spell on him to make him slowly burn alive; that little flame she set it him would quickly grow into hellfire. His burning desires to see her again, to hold her, to love, traveled through his skin and veins. It didn't take long for Gaara to convince himself she did something cruel to him to use his demon, just like his father is using his demon to destroy Konoha in a few days.
Gaara was began to assume the girl was mocking him when she spoke to him so lightly; that he was no one to be afraid of. It was so insulting, but she was able to hide her cruel and disgraceful jeers under a sweet and loving facade and cute clothing. That has to be it, he thought. No one could ever like me, no one can love me, other than me. More and more of Gaara's thoughts were consumed, then all at once, by thoughts of her. She was like a demon dragging him to hell to torture forever. That beautiful girl with those lovely E/C eyes and pretty clothing was using him, he convinced himself. And someone like that deserved death.
That sweet, young girl had a name; Y/N. She was incapable of sleeping, as a terrible feeling in her stomach was keeping her awake. She pouted her lip and huffed, poking her stomach and whispering to herself, "I want that bad feeling to go away!" That feeling was pure anxiety and a hint of fear. These emotions were very uncommon for Y/N as she had always. Even a positive thinker with lots of love in her heart for even villains to an extent. She sighed, turning over in her bed on her back for sitting up, flipping her legs over her bedside. She stood up and put on a soft kimono over her pajamas and walked to the front door of her home, put on her sandels, and walked out. "Maybe a nice walk around the village will tire me out!"
"It's almost the full moon," Gaara said aloud. "My power will only grow stronger." He stood up, staring intensly at the moon as if it's the only thing keeping him from being devored by his hellish thoughts. His thoughts of how lovely it would be to destroy that girl who made his chest feel warm and his face heat up when she talked to him. That girl who made him feel the way he feels about himself, only a bit different. He had never felt romantic love to anyone, and for him to suddenly feel so strongly about someone instantly convinced him that she did something to him. Someone who would ever control him like would burn in hell before the hellfire consumes him first.
A rough, quiet and threatening voice erupted from behind the redhead. He paid no mind to anything that came out of the mouth of the Sound Village ninja rather just acknowledged that he wanted a fight. Without even realizing it, all that bloodlust built up through thinking of Y/N was released, ending in that Sound Village ninjas blood being spilled all over the roof top. It felt like a weight was taken off his back when he killed the ninja, but in the back of his head he knew it wasn't enough. Gaara didn't want that petty ninja, only that witch known as Y/N. Every passing second, that hellfire coursing through his veins were blazing out of control, weren't they?
"Maybe a nice walk around the village will tire me out!" Gaara's ears perked at that voice. That voice. Y/N's voice. Just like that, Gaara's need for blood grew strong again but this time, it felt different. He killed the Sound Village Ninja with aggression, but knowing he could kill Y/N now that he heard her close by made him feel an exciting kind of bloodlust. Those flames coursing through his body grew hotter every second, growing ever more desperate to get his hands on her.
"It's been a while since I've seen the garden at night come to think about. The moon is bright tonight so it's bound to be pretty sight!" That sweet, soft voice called out from the ground, below Gaara's feet. She walked the pathway it takes to find a nearby lake, where a nice little garden lays. A smile rose on Gaara's face; one of pure hate and excitement. His chest pained to greatly at the thought of her death, but that hellfire coursing through his body was telling him to hurt her. The front of his mind was screaming for him to kill her and use her blood as a piece of his deadly sand, but the back of his kind was whispering for him to comprehend how he feels about her first.
So he began to follow her. Gaara quietly walked from the rooftops, not daring to make a single sound. He continued to smile as he followed her, his smile growing the more he heard her talk to herself. Such a sweet girl with such a pure heart. It's a shame someone with Gaara's problems sees her as a witch because he loves her. As another 10 minutes go by, Y/N began walking into the woods and towards the lake. Gaara jumped to the ground without making a sound and followed her discreetly by hiding behind trees. He stopped when Y/N did. Y/N's eyes widened and sparkled at the amazing sight before her; the moon reflecting on the lake as beautiful flowers and trees accompanied toads on lilipads in the water. Pure bliss.
"Wow...It's incredible!" She laughed in awe. "My arms feel so weak at the sight," she spoke again as her smile widened. "I wish mom was here to see this!" Gaara hummed, looking over the scenery as well. It wasn't very interesting, but it was something he supposed. After all, Y/N loved it. Gaara looked around and saw no one nearby, meaning now would be a great time to react. He silently tip toed over to Y/N, using trees to cover himself. However, Y/N spotted him when she looked around the area in case there was anyone nearby (after all, she was being loud and who knows who lived in the area).
"Hmm? Hi, you there!" She said, waving her hand towards that silhouette behind that tree. Gaara'a face turned into one of the confusion, his "eyebrows" furrowing. Why isn't she scared of someone creeping up behind her in the woods? "Sorry if I'm bothering you! I just wanted to see what's it's like here at night. I can leave if you want," she said, swaying her body back and forth.
"...No, it's quite alright," Gaara replied as he stepped from behind the trees. He walked up the her, and instantly Y/N recognized him. She gasped, surprised.
"I remember you! You're the one that saved me! Thank you so much!" She giggled, clasping her hands together and bowing deeply. "My deepest thanks." Gaara paused, feeling his cheeks heat up a bit.
"My heart is pounding," he mumbled allowed, pressing his hand against his chest. "What have you done to me?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. Y/N stood up straight, giving him a questioning hum in return. Her face looked so innocent and sweet; it's all apart of that facade, isn't it? Gaara growled, roughly grabbing Y/N's shoulders and pulling her close. She jumped, gasping a little at the sudden action. "I said, what did you do to me? Where did this hellfire come from, you witch!" His voice went from his normal calm tone to a scream instantly.
Y/N's eyes widened and her body started to shiver a little. She furrowed her eyebrows together, stuttering out a reply. "I-I don't understand..." That answer wasn't good enough for Gaara as he had no problem throwing her to the ground and looming over her with a look of anger across his facial features. His fist was clenched so tight that his veins were showing. "I don't know what you're talking about!" Y/N yelled out fearfully, covering her face. Tears began to swell in her eyes and her voice became shakey.
Sand began to pour out from behind him and his heart ate picked up again. That flame in his heart was so strong and terrifying to Gaara that he was okay with killing the girl he fell in love with right then and now. His body was so scared that it wanted to kill her, but his heart was too scared to rid such a wonderful girl from the world forever. "Tell me, witch. What did... you do?" He asked again, staring at her so intensely that she could feel his eyes burning into her skin. She sniffed, now too scared to reply upon seeing that sand loom over her.
After a few moments, he screamed, "tell me!" Y/N chocked up on tears, taking a deep breath before replying.
"I don't know any magic or special jutsus, sir! I didn't do anything to you!" She cried out, slowly sitting up. "I'm sorry!" Gaara hissed, silent for a couple minutes. In that time, Gaara remained still as Y/N slowly began to stand up. In her mind, she was recalling words her mom once spoke to her about dangerous people. People are born innocent and harmless and only bad environments or situations can taint their purity. With that in mind, Y/N assumed that Gaara had problems that she couldn't understand. And with a heart as pure as her's, she had already forgave Gaara for scaring her and already felt sympathy for him. She slowly walked closer to him, the hairs on her neck standing up with anxiety, and put an arm on his shoulder.
That touch made him snatch back to reality. He slowly put his hand on top of her's; he was so confused and overwhelmed with opposing emotion and thought. "Then why? Why do you make me feel this way?" He asked in a low rough voice. Y/N began to wrap her arms around him and then hug him softly, shutting her eyes tightly. She managed to push her worried back as she found giving this sad, sad man affection was more important. Gaara felt his chest grow warm again and suddenly, she chuckled.
"I think your hellfire consumed me. I can't even find it in myself to kill you anymore, witch. I think I'm in love with you," he said, blinking away tears. He was so scared and his body pained to kill her, but he just couldn't. He was so overwhelmed with the pleasant feeling of Y/N arms being around him to ever lay a finger on her in anger. Instead he just hugged her back tightly, stuffing his face into the crook of her neck and sniffing. He was obviously holding back tears, which didn't work very well. Afterall, for the first time in forever, he felt like he could show a little bit of a soft side.
"You're gonna control me, aren't you? Use my feelings against me and bend me to your will? You're so cruel, even with the face of an angel." Y/N hummed, not understanding his comments. She just sighed, hugging him tighter and opening her eyes.
"Hey, Gaara, isn't it? Why don't we spend time out here tomorrow? I'd like to get to know you better."
Gaara grunted in response, closing his eyes and wiping his tears with on arm, keeping his other arm tightly around her smaller form. Yeah, whatever hellfire he feels has completely consumed him before he could stop it.
Lol sorry this written to bad!
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westcoastrry · 3 years ago
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Can’t Help If This Is Us
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Hello friends. I’ve worked super hard on this fic. I’m not a fast writer so this took my while and I’m super happy with the way it turned out! Special thank to my bestie @harryforvogue​ . I wouldn’t know how to spell or about even write if it wasn’t for her so thanks you ugly fart face.
Also I wrote this entirely for free so all I ask is for feedback. I would really appreciate it and would love to hear your thoughts!
literally mate please let me know your thoughts. PLEASE. I beg.
WARNING: there is smut in this and mentions of the mafia.
I hope you enjoy reading Kiara and Harry’s story as much an I enjoyed writing it. 11.5k words
A fic about Kiara, a normal girl who works at a coffee shop in the upper east side of New York, where she meets Harry. A man who is caught up in a job he doesn’t want but is working hard to craft a better life for himself.
Fuck me like you wanna make love
Call me when you wanna stay in touch
Lie together just to gain trust
Say what you wanna say, can't help if this is us
Moving to New York was a fresh start for Kiara.
It’s only been a couple of months, but she has grown accustomed to the city.
She has an apartment in a not-so-great part of town, but it is close to her University, and the view from her balcony isn’t too bad. She is a coffee connoisseur, so when her pregnant friend and neighbor, Trina, helped her get a job at a cafe on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, how could Kiara truly not make the best of her newfound city life?
“An Americano please?” a deep British voice asserts.
Kiara’s cleaning off the steamer about an hour into her morning shift when the man with long chocolate curls speaks to her. Kiara has been working here for a month, and some very high profile people have come to the shop, but Kiara has never seen this man, but he sure looks important. He is in a suit, all black, and the only accessories are the multitude of rings he has on his fingers. The rose one catches her eye first, then the big gold H.S letter rings. Those are his initials? What is the point of that? Is this man obsessed with himself?
“Americano?” he says more lightly, snapping Kiara out of her thoughts.
“Sorry, I- Americano,” Kiara stutters.
Kiara isn’t one to get easily flustered, but how can she not be when this six-foot sexy man was towering over her in a suit, asking for black coffee.
Only real men drink black coffee.
She works around the machine expertly until the man’s voice interrupts her. “You’re new here?”
“Yeah,” she responds, swiping a curl off her forehead. Managing her naturally curly type four hair in the bipolar New York weather has been a challenge. Most days, she wears her thick hair in a bun, or when she can afford to get it done, box braids. “Started working here a month ago.” Kiara hands him the coffee in a brown to-go cup.
“Hmmm. I’m here all the time. I’m sure I would have noticed a new pretty employee.”
“Guess I’m not all that pretty then,” Kiara fires back, handing him a receipt with a pen to sign.
Harry doesn’t really know what to say to that because he actually does find Kiara pretty. He likes that her face is an even brown color with a few beauty marks. He likes the color of her light brown hair, and he really likes the sound of her voice. It’s sort of angelic, even when she is snapping at him.
Harry smugly hands Kiara his hefty card (the first indicator that this man has money) and signs the receipt. He drops some cash on the bill.
“That’s your tip. By the way, I do think you’re pretty.” His eyes flick down to her name tag. “Kiara.”
Kiara rolls her eyes at the man. He probably walks around life getting everything handed to him because he’s rich, white, and hot.
Screw him and his stupid cute dimple, Kiara thinks to herself. She goes to grab the receipt he signed and see’s two fifty-dollar bills stacked on each other.
Her mouth forms into an “o” shape. A hundred dollars on a three-dollar coffee? What sense does that even make? This had to be a mistake.
“Hey Kiara, are you okay?” Trina, who’s waiting tables today, asks. She has her brown apron tied over her baby bump with a few crumpled receipts and pens tucked in the pockets.
“I just got tipped a hundred dollars,” Kiara says, still shocked.
“You go, girl!” Trina enthusiastically shouts. “Who was it? A regular?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him before. Brown curly hair, dressed in a nice black suit-”
“Oh, that’s Harry,” Trina smiles. “Everyone loves Harry. He is a cutie. Been getting coffee here for a long time. He owns the strip club down the street.”
“I’m sorry. The dude owns a what?”
“A strip club bar type thing,” Trina shrugs. “Very fancy. It’s pretty much only for the elite. He is super nice. Everyone loves him here! He bought me a crib and this fancy high-tech stroller when he found out I was pregnant.”
“Yeah, well, he is kinda a dick if you ask me,” Kiara mutters under her breath.
“He tipped you a hundred dollars, and you’re calling him a dick?” Trina curiously questions.
“He called me pretty! And he had this arrogant ambiance to his voice. And what is with all the rings? It’s tacky.”
Trina places her hands on her hips.“Oh, just say you find the man hot! It’s okay to admit you find Manhattan’s most eligible and rich bachelor hot. I don’t blame you. I would get on it if I wasn’t thirty and pregnant.”
“I’m not admitting anything. Besides, I don’t have time for men. Men just cause problems.”
“Oh, you're telling me?” Trina points to her bulging belly. Kiara snorts at her friend and starts to walk away to grab more coffee beans from the storage, and Trina follows closely behind her. “You need to have some fun! Loosen up. Get your head out of that textbook. You have been living next to me for three months, and I haven’t seen you invite not one boy over! I know that vibrator you use is tired.”
Kiara grabs the box of coffee beans and turns back around to face Trina. “My vibrator is doing me just fine.”
Kiara’s whole life has been centered around academics. She was a really smart kid growing up. She had a good start to life too. However, Kiara’s wholesome childhood took a turn at twelve when her Dad died in a car accident. The accident was horrific for her entire family, but it hit her mom the worst. Her mom went from being a well respected physician's assistant, to being a drug addict, and Kiara had to grow up at the tender age of twelve just to take care of her mother. Around the age of fourteen Kiara’s mom got shipped off to rehab, and she ended up weaving in and out of foster homes until she was eighteen. Kiara realized that she never wants that to happen to her future family. She has been working hard on her academics because she hopes to have a stable income, so she can give her future kid the life that she never had.
It’s not like Kiara didn’t want to go and mingle around. Meet a new guy, have a one-nightstand, maybe even possibly fall in love. However, the dating scene as a brown skin woman in a whitewashed part of the city isn’t as easy as it sounds. Kiara doesn’t teeter the line of looking ethnically ambiguous. She is clearly a Black girl. Caramel skin, tight curls, full lips, and wide hips. Kiara likes these traits that she carries. In fact, she loves them, but men don’t. Specifically, men that aren’t her race. Not to mention that Black men are hard to come by in this particular part of city.
The simple fact is most white men don’t like Black women.
It’s even arguable that Black men don't even like Black women.
And Kiara is okay with that. She doesn’t need to be approved by a bunch of white people, nonetheless ones with penises. She just wishes she had more options to date within her race, or at least find someone who genuinely liked her.
Maybe that’s the reason why Kiara doesn’t want to go out and find a man to have some fun with. She knows he’s going to be white, and she will have to endure hundreds of questions about her race and her hair or meet racist parents, and she has done that all before.
So, for now, instead of explaining this to Trina, her very white friend, she will just blow off her questions about why she isn’t sleeping around or why she doesn’t entertain the idea of going to bars to find cute boys.
+++
The next day Kiara is off work. She spends her day sitting in her bed, in red pajama shorts and her university sweater, studying for her midterm. She got through quite a bit but is still a little worried about not getting an A. About an hour into her studying, she hears bickering from Trina’s apartment.
“I don’t know what you are being so shy about. Just ask her! You are great with girls.”
“No, I’m great at fucking girls. Trying to establish a genuine connection, I haven’t done that in a while.”
“I believe in you! Now go!”
Knock
Knock
It’s another guy that Trina has been trying to set Kiara up with. Trina does this about every other month. Very rarely does Kiara entertain the idea and sleeps with them, because she is bored, but it usually doesn’t go further than that.
Kiara opens the door to her apartment and there stands Harry. He is holding a boutique of red roses in one hand, and his other is behind his back. The suit he is wearing today is slightly different. Same silhouette, but this time the suit is brown. Kiara finally gets a good look at this man, and fuck.
Green eyes, full bright pink lips. Wide shoulders and defined biceps that show he does work out but isn’t a gym rat.
Gucci loafers. Now, this is an interesting man.
“What are you doing here?”
Harry nervously gestures to the flowers in his hand. “I brought you this.”
“You just came here to bring me flowers?”
“I also brought you this,” Harry pulls his hand from behind his back and shows a bottle of wine he got when he went on a business trip in Napa. He was saving the wine for a special occasion, like the next time he would go visit his mom, but this is more than a special occasion in Harry’s eyes. He is trying to swoon this girl.
Kiara smiles at him and grabs the wine bottle. If it’s one thing Kiara has learned in her adult life is that she loves wine. She usually only gets the cheap stuff from the liquor store down the street, but Kiara has never seen this bottle before.
She walked to her kitchen, leaving Harry staring at her dumbfoundedly. She pulled out two wine glasses from her kitchen cabinet.
Normally Kiara wouldn’t entertain this. Especially since she has a test to study for. However, she can’t lie and say she hasn’t been worked up...sexually.
“Alright, you brought me wine. You are welcomed in.”
Harry follows her inside the apartment, feeling a bit awkward. Usually, Harry never found himself at a girl’s place. He always took his one-night stands back to his house and had his assistant, Trevor escort them out in the morning.
Harry was nervous because this wasn’t a one-night stand. This was him bringing wine and flowers to a girls’ apartment, which he barely knows.
Just like Kiara, Harry also hasn’t been in the dating scene in a while. He has been busy with work, and it’s not easy what he does.
“So why did you come all this way to bring me wine?” Kiara asks Harry, pouring some wine into a glass and handing it to him. “I know you don’t live in this part of the city.”
“I don’t.” Harry sits on the barstool by the kitchen countertop. “I told you I thought you were pretty. Nice place, by the way.”
Kiara looks for the sarcasm on Harry’s face when he compliments her one-bedroom apartment but doesn’t find any. Kiara’s apartment isn’t ugly. But it probably is nothing compared to what Harry lives in.
Kiara takes a gulp of her wine. “It’s kinda trash actually. This is the ghetto.”
“You go to Columbia?” Harry asked, noticing her university sweater.
Kiara takes one more gulp of her wine, finishing off what is left in her glass. She was going to answer Harry’s question. She really was. But she got a good look at his bone structure. The way his jaw is a perfectly angled line. The way his Adam apple moves when he takes a sip of his wine. Even the way his fingers glide against the glass.
She begins to wonder how his fingers would feel against her.
“Kiara?”
That was it for Kiara because she doesn’t think she can keep herself composed in front of this beautiful rich man.
Instead of pouring her wine, Kiara grabs the bottle and starts to chug the wine like she is a trucker drinking a Samuel Adams.
Her lips remove from the bottle with a pop sound. Harry is now staring at Kiara completely taken aback by her actions. “What are you really here for, Harry? Sex? Because we can cut the small talk part.”
“Maybe I actually like you, Kiara.”
“You don’t like me.”
“Who told you that,” Harry counters.
Harry watches closely as Kiara struts towards him.
“I thought you were into blonde models?”
“Where are you finding this information from?” he questions.
“Google.”
Harry smirks. “So you’re googling me?”
“You know, if you wanted to know more about me, you could have just asked.”
Kiara cut him off with her lips attached to his. She wanted him to shut up, but she also wanted to kiss him.
Killing two birds with one stone.
Harry’s lips move in sync with hers, and he places his ringed hands on her back, pulling her closer to him.
If Kiara is being honest with herself, Harry’s lips feel like magic. It’s been a while since Kiara has kissed a guy, and she feels butterflies in the pit of her stomach.
“Kiara, what are we doing?” Harry mumbles into her mouth.
“We are gonna go back to my bedroom, and you are going to fuck me. Hard.”
“A-are are you sure about that?” Harry stutters on his words.
“We both know you didn’t come here to take me out on some date. So let’s just do this.”
Harry should have confidently responded and said, “No, Kiara, that is not why I’m here. I’m here because I actually find you attractive, and I know you have been working at the shop for about two weeks now but I have been very nervous to ask you on a date.”
However, his mouth went dry because Kiara threw off her sweater and her perky boobs sat fully on her chest.
“Kiara-”
“You know,” Kiara rests the palm of her hands on his muscular chest. Kiara has the upper hand and she sees it in the way Harry was staring at her, gaping at her actions. She loves being this bold. Upper chest bare for a man who is practically drooling over her boobs. Kiara likes to be in charge, but only for a little bit. After a while she wants to be taken care of. In bed that is. “For a man of such little words, you are talking so much right now.”
Harry grabs both of her wrist, but keeps her hands placed upon his chest. He knows his heart is racing a mile per minute. Kiara feels it and for a second she thinks to herself that there is no way she is causing this man's heart to skip beats.
Kiara stands up on her tippy toes and lets her tongue dart out to touch right below Harry’s ear suckling on the spot until it turns a nice red shade. She detaches her lips with a pop.
“You want this,” Harry whispers.
“I need this,” Kiara responds back.
“Tell me what you need Kiara.”
Harry’s right hand brushes over her bare breast, causing her to buckle a bit and stumble onto Harry’s chest.
“Hold yourself up, love, and tell me what you need.”
“I need you to fuck me,” Kiara whines.
With that, Harry holds Kiara's hips and roughly turns her away from him. Her hands went out and to grab at the granite countertop, holding herself up as much as she possibly could.
“How do you want it, hmm?” Harry whispers, quickly shrugging off his blazer and undoing a few buttons from his shirt. He begins to place wet kisses along the back of her shoulder. “I can fuck you right here, bent over the counter top. Or I can take you to the bed.”
“Here,” Kiara choked out through a moan.
“Can you handle it?” Harry teasingly asked her.
“I can handle it.”
“Can I take off your shorts?” Harry asks in a more serious tone.
“Mhmm, yes please.”
Harry shimmies down Kiara’s shorts. He takes the time to run his hands over her ass. The contact of her hot skin and Harry’s ice cold rings feels good to Kiara. She wants him to spank her, but she isn’t exactly sure what Harry is into and now she wishes she was sober enough to vocalize what she likes in bed so her needs can be met.
“Let's get a good orgasam out of you. Can I eat you?”
“Yes. God Harry, you're teasing me.”
“Not teasing,” he reassures her. “Just wanna know what you like.”
Harry gets down on his knees and opts for pushing her gray panties to the side instead of taking them off. Her core is glistening in her arousal and the smell alone makes Harry’s dick twitch in his boxers.
“Stop staring at it and-” Kiara cuts her sentence off with a yelp because Harry has attached his plump lips to her clit, giving her small kitten licks.
Kiara doesn’t really prefer to be eaten out. Most men's mouths don’t really do it for her. However, Harry is doing a very good job at keeping her legs shaking. She wants to turn around and look at him, but everytime she tries he delves deeper and deeper in her core, until she can barely hold herself up.
“M’mmm. A little higher please?”
Harry smirks against Kiara’s core because the little please she added to the end of her request tells him that she is slowly letting go of the tough exterior she puts up.
“Here? Is this good?”
“Yeah. Fuck right there please.” Kiara grips at the counter harder until her fingertips turned white.
“Been eating your veggies, huh?” Harry talks against Kiara’s core, the vibrations making her shudder. “You taste good love.”
Kiara is unable to respond because Harry is really going at it. His hands tightly grip Kiara's hips. His face is completely buried in her cunt, and he feels a slight ache in his jaw from the motions he makes with his mouth.
He continues to lick over her swollen folds, and then wraps his lips around her clit, which makes Kiara arch her back and push onto him. She is a panting mess, mouth wide open, eyes pinched together. She begins to thrash around but Harry grips even tighter at her hips.
“Stay still love.”
“I can’t,” she whined. “I’m gonna cum.”
“Why don’t you ask to cum?”
Kiara chokes on her spit slightly when Harry pulls his mouth from her pussy, and dips a finger inside of her. “Am I not entitled to an orgasm?”
“You are if you wanna be good for me.”
“Well if you're looking for a good girl I think you have come to the wrong place-”
Harry adds a second finger to her, which shuts Kiara up. “Ask nicely and you can cum.”
“I didn’t know you were gonna be so-”
“So what?” Harry asks her.
“Dominant.”
“You're lucky I’m not spanking you.”
“What's holding you back?” Kiara challenged.
Harry gets up from off his knees, and his free hand reigns down a heavy smack on her ass.
“Ask me nicely,” Harry demands, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her.
“No.”
Smack.
“Ask nicely Kiara. I can do this all night.”
Kiara snaps her head back to look at Harry. “No.”
Smack.
Smack.
Smack.
The three spanks that Harry had given to Kiara were much harder than the first. So hard that Harry started to see an outline of his hand print.  
It's when Harry gives her one more smack and pushes his fingers deeper into her, hitting a sensitive spot that Kiara gives in.
“Fuck, Harry please just let me come,” Kiara struggles to say with a couple tears falling from her eyes from being so wrapped up in pleasure.
“Say sorry.”
“I’m sorry. So damn sorry. Please, I'm so close.”
Harry laughed at how her personality has done a complete one eighty. She went from being a complete brat to now begging him for an orgasm. “You are?”
“Yes please.”
Once Harry feels her pussy tighten around his fingers he pulls them from inside of her. “I don’t think you are that sorry.”
Kiara let out a whimper at the loss of connection. Her legs are still shaking and she almost slipped off the counter but Harry was quick to catch her.
Harry's strong arms snaked around to the front of Kiara’s stomach, letting her stumble back into her arms. She felt Harry’s hard cock press up against her raw ass.“Easy now.”
Usually, Kiara would give Harry some witty comments, but right now she is too worked up from being so close to her orgamsm. She feels a bit fuzzy, not sure what to do next. Her core aches and all she can think about is getting off.
Her hands go down to rub at her clit, but Harry quickly smacks it away.
“That's my job tonight alright? You gonna let me fuck you? You're gonna be good so I can get you off properly.”
Kiara nods her head.
“Verbal consent Kiara.”
“Yes please.”
“Good girl.”
Harry’s smug voice echoes in her ear as he places wet open mouth kisses along her neck. Harry is really enjoying himself. She felt him smile against his neck when he started to coax soft moans out of her.
Kiara weakly pushes Harry's head away from her neck.
“Doll, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“No, I'm good. Can we just take this to my bedroom?” Kiara politely asks. “I think I will be more comfortable there.”
When Harry gets a good look at Kiara, he can tell he has pushed past the first layer of her tough exterior. He knows there is probably much more fight and sass in her, but right now she looks vulnerable.
“Yes of course we can,” Harry held his hand out and Kiara willingly took it as he led both of them to the bedroom.
When they arrive, Kiara sits at the edge of her queen sized bed, and Harry lets go of her hand. She whines a little at the feeling of Harry’s hands slipping away from her.
Harry chuckles at the girl. “Let me just take my shirt off darling.”
Kiara watches closely as Harry’s fingers undo the buttons one by one. His silk shirt gilded easily off his toned shoulders. He made his way to sit at the top of Kiara’s bed leaning against the headboard, and Kiara crawled on her hands and knees toward him.
“Christ,” Harry mumbled under his breath.
Harry spreads his legs wider, which allows Kiara to sit comfortably in his lap. She let her hands roam up and down his tattoos starting with the birds on his collar bone. She then notices the butterfly right above his tummy. When she places her left hand on it, tracing the wings, Harry sighs contently at her touch. It’s a comforting touch, one that he has never experienced with his one-night stands.
Harry breaks a sweat on his forehead when Kiara continues to trace his tattoos. His broad chest stops moving up and down because he begins to hold his breath. He isn’t really sure what she is doing, but it feels good. Good enough for Harry to exhale and relax into the bed.
For Harry, sex with girls usually got directly to the point. Of course, there was foreplay, but not to any extent like this.
Having someone else’s hands on your body is a part of sex. However, this feels much more intimate than that. He’s got that feeling of butterflies in his stomach when Kiara begins to run her hands all over his body. It felt like he was in high school again, having sex for the first time and being so nervous because you don’t know what to do. But in this case, the nerves and butterflies don’t come from a lack of knowledge of the female anatomy. It comes from being completely enamored by the beauty this one girl holds.
And for just a second, Harry questions if he deserves this to feel the way he feels right now. Warm and a little drunk on the feeling of love. He doesn’t love Kiara, at least not yet anyway. But he feels like at this moment, Kiara cares for him. And even if she doesn’t care for him, he wouldn’t mind existing in this false reality he has created in his head for a really long time.
Something about having his body touched in such a vulnerable way is making him feel things he has never felt in his life.
“You have a lot of tattoos,” Kiara points out, fingers still tracing his butterfly tattoo.
“Yeah, I have been collecting them over the years.”
“Which one was your first one?” Kiara asks curiously.
Harry brought Kiara’s delicate hands up to the swallows on his chest.
“These ones,” Harry’s voice shakily said. Kiara takes her index finger and begins to trace the birds.
“How old were you?” Kiara asks, keeping her eyes looking at the birds.
“Sixteen,” is all Harry says, trying to keep his past where it belongs. In the past.
“That’s young. You don’t regret any of them?”
“No, actually. I think they all tell a story. Sure, some of them are stupid, but they all got some meaning behind them.
Kiara innocently brings her hand up to his cheek, cradling his face. “You gotta tell me about them one day. You have so many.”
“Mhmm,” Harry hummed in response.
“Let’s kiss some more,” Kiara suggested, wiggling her hips in Harry’s lap to find a comfortable position.
Harry nodded his head in response letting his lips touch Kiara’s, but not yet giving in to her request. His hands find their way to her lower back, and Kiara’s hands now have made their way up to his shoulders.
“You look good. You know that?” Harry says against her lips.
Kiara now has a grin on her face and blushes at Harry as if she has never received a compliment in her life.
Kiara brushes a brown curl off of Harry’s face with her index finger, “You can’t give me compliments while I’m buzzed off of wine because you might make me fall in love with you.”
Harry smiles. “Why don’t I just fuck you like I love you?”
Harry realizes what he said and awkwardly takes his hands off of Kiara’s body, nervously running his hands through his hair.
Kiara see’s the worried look on Harry’s face, but she is just a tad bit too intoxicated to process the weight of Harry’s words.
“Or you could let me fuck you,” Kiara bodly suggests. “I just haven’t done it in a while, so you might need to take over when my legs get sore.”
Harry nods, his forehead pushed upon Kiara’s. He kisses her again, and is taken by surprise when she lightly bites on his lip. She then gives a quick kiss to the corner of the month, and then his throat. She leans over to kiss his collar bones, and Harry takes the opportunity to grab a handful of her ass.
He then slowly peels her underwear off of her. He drags it slowly past her thighs looking down at her soaking wet core.
“You’re wet,” Harry mummers into her ear.
Kiara cups Harry’s dick through his boxers, and slides them off of his hips.
Harry groans in pleasure when he feels her hand touch his hard dick that is leaking pre cum.
“Don’t get too cocky now,” her hand lazily pumps at Harry's length, which she finds to be quite impressive in size.
“Kiara, don’t forget who is in charge here,” Harry grits through his teeth.
Kiara dips her head down to lick at Harry's heavy balls, she then continues her way up to his shaft until she makes her way to his tip and suctions her lips around the pink swollen flesh.
Harry looks down at the Kiara, who is giving him those innocent eyes, as if she doesn’t have his entire dick in her mouth
“Oh fuck me,” Harrys rolls his eyes, and lets his head fall onto the headboard.
“I will. But let me suck you off first.”
Kiara passes her thumb over his dick, and kisses all around the tip. She licks him up and down before taking him into her mouth entirely, making sure to make eye contact with him.
Harry places his hand gently over Kiara’s head, asking permission to touch her. She blinks at him signaling to him that it's okay.
He took a rough grip to Kiara’s brown curls, moving her head up and down in a steady rhythm.
“That's it,” he encourages as Kiara suckles on his tip. “Fucking hell.”
She pulls her mouth from Harry's length and gives him a few sharp tugs.
“Slow down,” Harry pants. “Want to be inside of you when I come. Can you handle it?”
Kiara swings one leg around Harry’s lap, her core just inches away from Harry’s throbbing dick.
“Yeah I can.”
“Well what are you waiting for?”
Kiara slowly slides down on Harry’s dick, and his hands cling to the sides of hips, coaxing her on her way down. Harry groans at how tight and snug she feels around him.
Kiara is about halfway down when the blissful feeling starts to hit her. She tightens her grip on Harry’s shoulders biting her bottom lip.
“What's wrong? Thought you said you could handle it.”
Bravely, in one push Kiara glides right down Harry’s dick.
Harry groans with pleasure as soon as she makes it all the way down. His hands go out to grip her ass, and help her bounce up and down.
“That's it. Good girl. You like it when I call you that?”
“Yes,” Kiara responds, picking up her speed so that her tits move up and down with her.
“What do you want me to call you? I can call you my good girl, a slut, or whore. Which one do you prefer?”
“A whore,” Kiara is slightly embarrassed at what this man is doing to her, but she is so wrapped up in the lust of the moment that she really couldn’t care less.
“You're my dirty little whore, hmmm?”
Harry cranes his neck down to place a kiss on her tongue, lapping his tongue over her soft skin that smells like a floral scented perfume. He moans softly into her neck and squeezes at her fleshy hips.
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“I’m your dirty little whore,” Out of nowhere Harry thrust his hips up to meet hers. “Fuck, Harry!”
Harry placed a wet kiss behind her hair before speaking, “How about you get on your hands and knees for me. I can fuck you like that.”
“Okay,” Kiara withdraws herself from him with ease due to how wet she was. She props herself on her hands and knees and arches her back for Harry.
Harry places a hand on her lower back. He rubs the tip of his dick over her wet folds before pushing in.
Harry moves slowly at first, testing out the waters to make sure he isn’t hurting her. Her sweet moans are only egging Harry on, and he is sure he isn’t gonna last another five minutes inside of her.
“Please Harry. Fuck me faster please.”
Harry hands grips on Kiara's fleshy love handles. It is a little tight for her liking however the pain is quickly drowned out by the intense pleasure she begins to feel.
This is a dirty shag. Harry is pounding into her at such an extreme pace that Kiara can’t even get a full moan out. Her little “uhhhh’s” and “nggggs” only encourage Harry on.
Kiara’s orgasm hits her first and it's just as blissful as she thought it would be. Legs trembling, her arms are no longer propping herself up, instead her right cheek is pushed up on the bed, and a bit of salvia is foaming out of her mouth.
“I’m gonna, oh god Kiara. Just give me a sec- fuck!”
Harry’s orgasm shortly follows and it's just as euphoric for him as it was for Kiara. This was one of the most satisfying sexual encounters Harry has had in a while and he wants to enjoy every second of being buried in Kiara’s warmth.
Harry was about to pull out from her but when he looked down at where they were connecting he realized how fucked he was.
Not only did he not wear a condom, but he most definitely came inside of her.
“Fuck,” Harry mumbles under his breath.
How could he be so careless? This has never happened to him. Harry has had quite the extent of sexual partners and he makes sure to always use a condom.
He wants to blame it on the wine but he didn’t even finish his glass.
“I need a second,” Kiara tiredly whispers, panting.
“I didn’t use a condom.”
“I’m sorry?” Kiara says still coming down from her high.
Harry runs his hand through his tangled hair nervously, “I didn’t use a condom. I haven’t had sex in almost a year though. I get tested regularly too. I’m sorry it just slipped my mind. I can run out and get you some plan B.”
“It's okay,” Kiara responds. She turns her head around to look at Harry. “Do you mind pulling out now though?”
Harry looks down at his dick, and then looks up at Kiara. “Oh yeah shit uhh.” He grabs on to Kiara’s hips and slowly pulls out of her.
“I haven’t had sex in like six months by the way,” Kiara slowly turns herself around to face Harry who has now tucked himself back in his boxers. “It could be longer honestly… it's been pretty dry here until now.”
“Yeah, same. Busy with work and what not.”
There is a moment of uncomfortable silence. Kiara has the sheets up to her bare breast, and Harry is not only taking in the raw beauty of the girl in front of him, and still beyond shocked he forgot to put on a damn condom.
“Well, I can get you some plan B. I think there is like a Target down the block from your apartment.”
“No, it's fine!” Kiara responds way too quickly. “I mean like, Trina has a stash in her car. I can steal from her in the morning. You don't have to rush out if you don’t want to. It’s not safe to drive at night, and you probably have such a long way to go.”
“You want me to stay?”
“Is that a bad thing?”
Harry shakes his head. “No...errr it's not. I would really like to stay.”
“Okay well I’m gonna pee. And clean myself up. I can bring you some water?”
“Water would be great.”
Kiara nods at him, standing up so that her white sheet is wrapped tightly around her body. She knows that there is no reason to hide from Harry. He just took her from behind and called her a whore, but Harry isn’t just any man. He is a man who looks like a greek god, and fucks like one too. So Kiara couldn’t help but be a little self conscious.
Kiara quickly comes back with two glasses of water. She has even changed into an old ratty T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear.
Kiara hands Harry a glass and he takes a sip, “You know,” she starts, crawling into bed next to him. “If you told me you fuck like that maybe I wouldn’t have put up a fight at the cafe.”
Harry blushes, setting the glass on the nightstand next to him. “Didn’t plan this, you know. Not that I mind. Trust me, I like this.”
“I would be lying if I didn’t say I thought you were cute.”
“Oh,” Harry playfulls wiggles his eyebrows, scooting himself closer to Kiara on the bed. “Please do tell me more.”
Kiara pouts at Harry until he places a kiss on her bottom lip, another sloppy wet one on her cheek. He grabs at her sides, tickling her.
“Har- Harry! Stop, please!” Kiara begins to laugh uncontrollably. She even attempts to pull Harry’s enormous hands from her body but has no luck.
“Okay, okay,” she gives up, Harry pulling his hands off of her. “It was the whole curly hair, suit thing. I love a man in a suit, and you know you got an Americano. You have good taste in coffee.”
Harry smiles. “You make good coffee.”
Kiara hums awkwardly, not making eye contact with Harry, instead opting to stare at his mermaid tattoo with abnormally large tits.
“I like your hair too,” Harry speaks up. “It frames your face nicely. It was the first thing I noticed about you.” Harry’s ringed hands make their way to the top of Kiara’s thigh, rubbing her soft skin. “Then it was all the pins you had on your apron. You have a lot.”
“Oh. Yeah I’ve been collecting them over the years.”
“You had one that said, ‘Don’t be a damn.’ What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure,” Kiara shrugs, breathing out a relaxed sigh. “It was like my third year of undergrad. I studied abroad at the University Of Edinburgh, in Scotland and this guy who had a jewelry shop said it to me. The next day I came back he just gave me the pin and told me to always keep it with me.”
Harry smiles at Kiara with adornment, “I have family in Scotland. I’m from London though. Grew up there with my mum most of my life.”
“What brought you to New York then?”
“School then work. I went to Columbia,” Harry says, giving her the shortest answer possible. “I noticed you had it on your sweater earlier…. You know before you tore it off.”
“Shut up!” Kiara groans, striking Harry’s chest. “But yes I do go to Colombia. Just for my teaching credentials. I want to teach history.”
There is a beast of silence. “Are you sure if I stay the night? I don't want to intrude-”
“I want you to stay the night.”
Harry’s heart warms because no girl has ever said that to him. The feeling of butterflies swarming around in his tummy has come back, and he knows his cheeks are heating up in embarrassment.
“Alright.” Harry pulls Kiara’s body closer to him which makes her squeal in surprise. “Only if you keep me warm for the night.
+++
Harry is awake before Kiara.
Harry is used to waking up early for his job, and usually, he would be on his way to get his morning coffee and then head on down to the club.
However, he just can't leave the girl he just fucked last night.
Her breaths are short, and he can feel her heart thumping against his chest. She was properly attached to him, and Harry really liked it. Having her this close to him.
He takes the time while Kiara was asleep to not only watch her sleep peacefully but look at all the artwork she has displayed on her walls. There are no family pictures that Harry can spot, just a picture of her and Trina on her desk. It looks like they are at some club. Trina has a drink in her hand that looks like she is about to spill and Kiara is downing a shot.
Kiara stirs a bit in her sleep and Harry watches as she slowly blinks her eyes open.
“You're warm.” She blinks. “Do you want breakfast?” Kiara offers, nuzzling herself in the crook of Harry’s neck. “I make a really good omelet.”
Harry laughs. “Kiara I really can’t keep up with you.”
Kiara begins to innocently pepper kisses all over Harry’s neck. “What do you mean?” she pouts.
Harry groans once Kiara sucks on a sensitive right beneath his jawline. “For starters, you didn’t like me at all when we first met. Then we fucked because you claimed I was here just for sex. And now you are offering to make me an omelet.”
“What are you here for then?” Kiara presses.
Harry sighs, looking down at the pretty girl all tangled up in his arms. Harry knows exactly what he wants. He is twenty-seven and he is really looking for love. A life-long partner who he can come home to after a hard day at work. A partner who makes getting up in the morning all worth it. Someone who he can take out on dates, maybe even take to meet his brother.
He wants to take a leap of faith with Kiara. He wants to ask her on a date, however, he can’t bring himself to do that. He doesn’t want to put this girl in harm’s way because he likes her.
And it's not even about Kiara getting hurt. He would never let anything physically happen to the people he cares about in his life. It’s honestly about the hurt she would experience if something happened to him.
“I-”
Harry is interrupted by Trina barging into the bedroom.
“We will be late for the train if you don't get your ass up! You always sleep in--” Trina pauses once she realizes her best friend is wrapped up in her other best friend’s arms. “Oh fuck.” Trina points back to the door. “I’ll wait outside for you.”
“Shit,” Kiara grumbles to herself. “I forgot I had work.”
Harry watches as Kiara frantically pulls her underwear up her body. When she realizes Harry is staring at her, she turns around to slide on her black lace bra.
Harry isn’t trying to be that much of a dick, staring at Kiara while she is getting changed. It's just that her ass is littered with marks from his heavy handy, and a light bruise on her loved handles from holding her securely on his lap, while he pounded into her.
The bruises were tainted with the memory of last night, and Harry notices how every little mark told the story of their rough and passionate sex. Looking back on it Harry doesn’t know if he was too rough with the young girl. He doesn’t like that it was possible that he may have hurt her.
“You need to go,” Kiara demands, pulling her jeans on, and then her white shirt.
Harry picked up his white button-up shirt off the floor and threw it over his shoulder. “Kiara, was I too rough? Maybe you should put something on the bruises--”
“I’m going to be late for work Harry,” she snaps.
“Are you mad?”
Tears well up in Kiara’s eyes and this is very unusual for her. She never cries. She is not even sure why she is crying. She pauses for a moment not answering his questions.
“I’m fine,” Kiara answers with her back still facing away from Harry.
“You’re crying, Kiara.”
“I’m not!” Kiara yelled, throwing her hands up in the air turning around. “I- I’m just a little overwhelmed.” Kiara’s breath gets caught in the back of her throat. “I have school, and I work full time, and I’m interning at this elementary school...and that…” Kiara points to the bed. “That was the best sex I have ever had, and now I look like a complete freak.” She wipes a tear with the back of her hand. “I look like a complete freak because all we did was have sex and now I’m crying. It doesn’t have much to do with you I think. I’m just a little stressed.”
That was a complete lie and Kiara knows it. At this moment, she could care less about school or the stress of work. Its that empty feeling you have after sex knowing that this isn’t a forever thing. Harry will go back to being Harry, and she will go back to being Kiara. It is simply just sex...nothing more.
Harry gets off the bed in just his unbuttoned shirt and boxers. He tests the waters by placing a comforting hand on her back. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Just show yourself out please.” Kiara walks away from Harry’s hold, grabbing a scrunchie off her desk, and her purse. “I have to go.”
Harry doesn’t stop her. He knows that if he stops her he is gonna want to kiss her. Then he is gonna convince her to come back to bed with him, and he can’t do that. For her sake.
+++
“Are we not gonna talk about it?” Trina asks while she is driving her SUV.
Trina and Kiara usually take the subway together. It works out much cheaper for the both of them, but they can’t be late for work. Not during the Monday rush. Kiara is in the passenger seat pulling up her hair and frantically covering up a few hickies on her neck from last night. Trina is driving just a little bit above the speed limit, trying to make sure they both get there on time, and also worrying about her best friend who isn’t her usual bubbly self.
“There is nothing to talk about, other than I need some plan B,” Kiara replies dryly.
“You're joking.”
“Nope. Pass me your purse.”
Trina keeps one hand on the wheel and hands Kiara her purple purse from the back seat.
“Kiara you had sex with my best friend. Unprotected sex.”
“Exactly just sex,” Kiara shruged, digging up the pill from the bottom of Trina’s bag. “And I’m your best friend!”
“You are both my best friends!” Trina argued. “You know the poor boy actually likes you right?”
Kiara rolls her eyes. “Did he tell you that?”
“Yes! Actually, he did! More than once!”
“He is lying. I’m just a normal broke student. And him? He is a fucking rich man but he looks like a literal greek god! Trina you know I googled him. His past girlfriends are models! White, skinny blonde models. I’m not white, skinny, or blonde!”
“He was a party boy in the past!” Trina retorts. “He likes you, okay? He just has trouble communicating his feelings. I know you like him too. You just have this strange idea in your head that you are not good enough for him! Which is ridiculous.”
“It's whatever,” Kiara huffs, pooping the pill in her mouth and swallowing it, “It was a hook-up. A simple one night stand.”
“It’s okay to want something more Kiara.”
“He doesn’t want something more! It's so painfully obvious,” Kiara throws her hands up in the air.
Trina knows how stubborn her best friend is. It's why they get along so well. They both have this hot headed temperament. However, Kiara never really likes to give herself time to relax. She likes to be busy but it is clearly taking a toll on her mental health.
“Let me take you out drinking after work.”
Kiara turned her head towards her friend and smiled. “Thank you. Now we are speaking my language.”
+++
While Kiara’s working, a part of her secretly wishes that Harry would show up for his americano. She is trying her hardest to convince herself that he is not worth her energy or time, but the sex is still fresh in her mind and it doesn’t help that her body is showing evidence of what took place last night.
There is still that dull satisfying ache between her legs, the sound of Harry calling her a dirty whore plays on rewind all day. She is practically daydreaming about having sex with Harry again while making coffee.
Harry was the first man to meet her needs in that manner. Sure she has cum during sex a couple times, but it wasn’t anything mindblowing. In fact her orgasms were usually underwhelming, but with Harry he knew what he was doing. His dominance was a complete turn on.
And sure Kiara could be fuck buddies with Harry. But she thinks she deserves a little more than just casual hookups. She wants a relationship because at the end of the day, she wants to build a family. A family that makes up for her broken one.
Kiara has sat down and contemplated this before. Is it inherently selfish to want to fix her childhood trauma with a family of her own, but fuck. Can you really blame her?
+++
When Kiara gets home she quickly changes into a simple black dress. It hugs her curves nicely and it's the dress she usually pulls out when she used to go clubbing with Trina (which has come to a halt because of her pregnancy).
The subway ride to the club is filled with laughter and Trina having to help Kiara actually get on and off the train (because she pregamed at the apartment).
Once they got to the club, Trina walks up to the front of the line with Kiara.
The bouncer's eyes lit up as soon as he saw Trina, “Hi Trina. Umm, should I tell Harry you are here? James is also here too. I can let him know as well.”
“Harry is here?” Kiara questions.
Trina whispers in her ear, “Yes, this is his club.”
“I’m gonna need more drinks if I have to look at his stupid face again.”
Trina playfully rolls her eyes, “Yes, you can let James and Harry know we are both here.”
The bouncer pulls out his walkie talkie and opens the door for Trina and Kiara.
Kiara supports herself on Trina’s arm as they walk into the club, “You didn’t tell me we were going to Harry’s club?”
“I know, I thought you might put up a fight about it.”
She probably would have put up a fight about it, however she wouldn’t actually mind seeing Harry's stupid, beautiful looking face again.
The club itself is beautiful. The ceilings are covered with mirrors, and hanging down from them were stunning crystal chandeliers. The chairs are red, and glass tables are placed strategically in each booth. There is also a bar with some red stools, and a huge red door near it.
“What’s back there?” Kiara asks.
“The strip club. But we don't need to go over there. C’mon you wanted some wine, didn’t you?”
Trina and Kiara made their way to the bar and a heavily tattooed girl with a name tag that says Drew is working on the opposite side of the counter mixing drinks.
“Hey, Trina! What are you doing here? You can’t drink.”
“It’s for my friend, Kiara.” Trina gestures to her Kiara, who drunkenly waves back at Drew “She will take some wine, something sweet. I’ll just have some sprite”
Drew grabs a wine glass and puts it on the table before walking away. “Coming right up”
“James is that new guy you are seeing, right?”
“Yes. He works for Harry.”
Kiara has heard Trina mention James on multiple occasions. She even thinks he has come to the cafe a couple of times for lunch, but Kiara can’t put a name to the face. She is unsure if Trina and James are dating, but she is not sure how far she should pry. She does briefly remember Trina telling her that James does not care about Trina being pregnant. In fact Trina told her one day during their thirty minute break at work that James is just happy to be a part of Trina’s family.
“Mhmm. So Harry owns this club?” Kiara asks, taking a sip from her wine that Drew provided for her.
“Yeah. He owns a few more too. I believe it's a family business or something?”
Kiara sighs before downing the rest of her wine. “Just eat the fucking rich already.”
“Kiara? Trina?”
Kiara spins around on her chair, holding up her second glass of wine that Drew had given her and made eye contact with Harry.
He looks breathtaking. Hair neatly combed out of his face, tailored suit, ring decorated fingers that Kiara thought was repulsive, but now she can't stop thinking about how they feel against her heat.
“Trina, it's Wednesday,” Harry sternly told her, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose, slowly breathing in and out, trying not to lose his temper at his best friend.
“Are you not happy to see me?” Kiara says, standing up. She almost trips on her heels but Harry grabs her arm.
Kiara places her hand on Harry’s cheek. “I know you have to be happy to see me. You don’t fuck someone like that unless you hate them or love them. And who could hate me?”
“Okay!” Trina chippers up, grabbing her friend and bringing her back to the barstool. “Maybe we should get some water in you, okay?”
Harry is flustered because way too much is happening at once. Harry has told Trina multiple times that Wednesdays are not a good time to show up at the club. He has his meetings on Wednesday, and dangerous people are always floating in and out of the club talking business with Harry. He just wants to keep Trina and Kiara safe.
“Drew put all their drinks on my tab,” he tells the dark-haired bartender. “Trina, did you drive here?”
“No, we took the subway,” Trina answered.
Harry sighed frustratingly. “Okay. I'll take you two home. Just don’t leave here until I come get you.”
“Harry,” Trina starts. “I'm sure we will be fine. It’s not that big of a deal. James is here anyways--”
“Trina please.”
It's the crack in Harry's voice that caused Kiara to stop drinking her wine and look up at him.
Trina shoots Harry a look of sympathy. “Okay fine. We will stay here until you're done.”
Harry exhales the air he was holding in, a nervous habit he is still trying to break. “Okay. I will be done soon.”
“What's got his panties in a twist?” Kiara snorts as Harry walks away.
“I’m not sure actually,” Trina responds. “He is always stressed at work. I’ve been trying to get him to take a break for ages, but pulling that man away from his job is an impossible task.”
“He always seems so tense.”
Trina laughs, “Yeah maybe you can help him with that.”
“Well I see you have been helping his fellow associate...James.” Kiara wiggles her eyebrows at Trina.
Trina dramatically sighs. “Don’t even get me started on him.”
“What? I thought things were going great!”
“They are!” Trina assures Kiara. “But I’m still not sure what he wants. I’m pregnant and thirty. I really don’t want to fool around anymore. I want to settle down. The baby is coming soon and I won't have time for hookups and flings. He says he doesn’t mind that I’m pregnant, but he hasn’t said he wants a relationship with me.”
“Why don’t you just be upfront with him and ask?”
“Because I don’t want to scare him off!”
“You deserve someone who is upfront with their feelings, Trina. You are never gonna know until you ask.”
Trina sticks her index finger in Kiara’s face. “I’m not doing shit until you figure out what's going on with you and Harry.”
“Fine I’ll admit. The dick is good.”
Trina squealed. “I knew it, you filthy whore!”
“I'm just a little nervous. What if he is just hooking up with me for some weird black girl fetish? What if he is a racist?”
“I can tell you that's not Harry.”
“Am I ready for this?”
Trina takes a sip of her sprite. “I dunno. You know the answer to that question, not me.”
“Well I don’t know, and you don’t know. So that's my cue to keep drinking.”
Trina rolls her eyes and is about to tell Drew that this will be Kiara’s last glass of red wine until she makes eye contact with a man walking towards them.
“Fuck,” Trina grabs her purse then grabbed Kiara’s wrist. “Don’t talk to him okay? Just don’t look at him and maybe he will go away--”
“Trina... Haven’t seen you in a while.” The man's voice is heavy and dark. When Kiara looked up at him the first thing she noticed is that he is extremely well dressed, with a bling out watch on his wrist. “Who is the lovely lady you brought with you?”
“Leave her alone Dorian.” Trina says.
“What's your name?” The man reaches out to touch Kiara’s lower back but she flinches away.
“Don't touch me! Who do you think you are?”
He raises an eyebrow at her. “Feisty. Pretty too. You are one of Harry’s girls?”
“Excuse me? One of whose girls?”
“Are you not a dancer for the club?” the man asks in a condescending town that sets Kiara off.
“Oh hell no. You know damn well I’m clearly not stripping so what is it that you want from me?”
Trina leans into Kiara’s ear. “Kiara please leave it alone,” She grabs her wrist but Kiara quickly pulls it out of her grasp. “Let's just go.”
“No, let the girl talk Trina. She has quite a mouth on her anyway. Maybe she can put it to a much better use.”
Slap
Kiara’s hand connects with Dorian’s face before Trina could stop her. Trina knows her friend has a temper but so does Dorian. The slap slightly echoes over the music and gains a few people's attention including Drew, who stops mixing her drink and keeps her eyes on Dorian, who clenches his jaw and fixes his suit on his shoulders, trying to regain his composure.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters quietly.
“And what the fuck are you gonna… Ow!” Dorian roughly grabs Kiara wrist and drags her towards him.
He holds her hand above her head. “You don’t know who you are messing with. Do I need to show you?”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Kiara begins to squirm. “Let go of me before I kick you in the crotch--”
“Hmmmm. Maybe I should teach you a lesson. Don’t think Harry would mind if I borrowed one of his girls.”
“Refer to me as one of Harry’s girls one more time and I will do more than just slap you.”
“Dorian. Let her go.” Kiara’s eyes float from the man holding her wrist to Harry who is stalking up to her with a man right next to him. His voice was deep and assertive. Something Kiara never thought Harry to be other than when he was in bed.
Dorian lets Kiara’s wrist go and she stumbles back a bit towards Trina.
“Harry!” Dorian loudly greets. “I was just telling one of your whores she needs to watch that mouth of hers.”
“She is not a dancer, Dorian.”
“Oh, is she not? Such a shame,” Dorians eyes shamelessly rake Kiara up and down. “With a body like that I’m sure she could attract some clients for you.”
Kiara launches at Dornian but Harry is quick to grab her this time pulling her into his chest.
“Behave. Please,” he whispers in her ear.
“Dorian, you need to go.”
“Harry, you know better than that. Came here for my money. Come here every Wednesday to get my payment.”
“Well, you're not getting it today. Come by tomorrow.”
“Funny you say that since you know the history between me and your father--”
“I don't give a fuck about the history between you and my father!” Harry seethes stepping closer to Dorian. “You don’t see him here do you? I made you a deal. You will get your money, just not tonight. You don’t get to threaten my friends and then just demand money.”
“You don’t want to test me boy--”
“No, you don't want to test me. Not tonight. Leave.”
Dorian smirks at Harry before raising his hands up in defeat. “I’ll be here tomorrow. If you don’t have my money there will be problems.”
Harry watches Dorian walk fully out the door before turning to Trina and Kiara. “Both of you. My car now.”
“What just happened?” Kiara questions.
“Trina just take her to the car.”
+++
The car ride back to Kiara’s apartment is silent. Kiara sits in the back confused as to why Trina and Harry kept whispering to each other. A whole conversation is happening and Kiara’s trying to keep up, but she can only get bits and pieces of what the two are saying.
“I might be still drunk but I can hear you know.” That is a lie.
Harry’s eyes glance up to the rear view mirror. “Are you okay Kiara? He didn’t hurt you right?”
“No but I did hurt him. Slapped him. And if you didn’t come and interrupt I was about to kick him in the balls.” Kiara hiccups at the end of her sentence.
“She is right,” Trina agrees. “She is more of a fighter than she leads on to be.”
“Exactly!” Kiara yells. “So if you would have given me the chance I would have fucked him up.”
Harry, who was clenching his hand at the wheel during the whole drive, lets go and smiles. “I believe you Kiara.”
+++
Harry makes sure to walk Trina into her apartment safely, before helping Kiara to hers which was a challenge in itself because she can’t even walk in a straight line.
“Woah,” Harry says, wrapping his strong arms around Kiara’s waist trying to keep her balance. “How about you sit down on the bed?”
Harry helps Kiara walk into her bedroom and he slowly sits her down on her bed. Her hair is completely ruined, her dress slightly bunched up at her hips and her lips gloss slightly smudged. Harry thinks she looks beautiful. He is staring a little too long before he realizes he should help her take off her heels.
He gets down on one knee and his fingers begin to work on the claps of Kiara’s heels until she wraps her leg around Harry’s neck and pulls him closer to her thigh.
“Wine makes me horny.”
“I know,” Harry pushes himself away from her, no matter how tempting she looks, and goes back to undoing her heels. “But I think it would be smart if I get you to bed.”
“Why was that guy asking you for money?”
“Asking me anything but that.”
“Okay. Did you mean it?”
Harry slides one heel off her foot and looks up at her. “Mean what?”
“When we met.” He grabs Kiara’s other foot. “You said I was pretty. You meant it?”
Harry is silent for a couple seconds, his voice low. “Of course. Why would I be lying about that?”
Kiara shrugs as Harry glides her shoe off. “Guys are assholes. Well most guys are.”
“Mhmm. Where can I find some clothes for you?”
“Top drawer.” Kiara points at her dresser right in front of her bed. Harry walks over to get some clothes and places them on the side of her bed. “When I moved here I hooked up with this one guy from my class. I thought there was something going on between us ya know? He was nice at first. So I was gonna ask him if he wanted to go on a date because well, at that point we were hooking up. Turns out he had a girlfriend.”
“Sounds like a dick. Can I unzip your dress?”
Kiara nods her head and stands up hastily, turning around so her back is facing Harry. “I feel like I’m never good enough to be the girlfriend.” Harry listens closely as he zips Kiara’s dress slowly. Her delicate skin has goosebumps on it. When he gets all the way down to the top of her butt he pushes the dress off her shoulders, and allows her to step out of it.
“I’m good enough to hook up with. But never good enough to meet the parents or keep around longer than a couple weeks.” She turns around to face Harry, and grabs the shirt he picked out for her, throwing it over her head, and ignoring the pair of sweats he brought her, opting to stay in her underwear.
“So do you find me pretty in a fuckable way? Or do you find me pretty enough to keep me around longer than a few weeks?”
“Do you want me to answer that? Because you are really drunk, and my goal isn’t to scare you off.”
“Yes please,” she hiccups. “If you want to fuck around lets just be up front about it. Think I’ve gotten my hopes up about too many guys and I just wanna know.”
“Well I always think it's time for me to settle down,” Harry explains to her. “I’m twenty seven and my mum will not stop bugging me about it.” He laughs but Kiara stays silent. “I guess dating is just a bit confusing for me.”
“Confusing?” Kiara questions, tugging at the bottom of her shirt to make sure it is covering her butt.
“I really didn’t expect to be around this long. I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff Kiara, stuff that I really shouldn’t have done because it put my life at jeopardy. I think I never settled down because I didn’t think I was able to.”
“And what about now? Do you think you can settle down.”
Harry inhales and exhales quickly. “I’m not sure.”
“Okay.” Kiara turns her back to Harry and walks to her bed. She is definitely disappointed in his answer, but she knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep seeing you Kiara,” Harry quickly responds, breathlessly. “I want to take you to dinner.”
“You don’t have to pity me Harry-”
“I’m not pitying you,” Harry cuts her off. “I like you Kiara. You're a nice girl, beautiful too, and I mean that. My life can be… menacing to say the least. I like you enough not to drag you into my bullshit.”
Kiara tiredly rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. “What exactly is the bullshit?”
“It's my family business and my family… Well, they are interesting people.” That is all Harry could tell her without explicitly saying, “Instead of going into finance with my business degree from Columbia, I had to join my dad’s mafia and fix all his mistakes while he lives in a mansion, even though all I have ever wanted was to have absolutely nothing to do with the “‘family business.’”
“You seem like you don’t want to talk about it.” Kiara is now sitting with her knees up to her chest on her bed and Harry is towering over her small frame.
“No. I’m not a big fan of my past. But I want to get to know you, and you can get to know me. I’m busy with work, and sometimes it's hard for me to open up, but I’d really appreciate it if we took this slow.”
Kiara pouts. “So that means I can’t convince you to stay the night? Even if I suck you off?”
Harry smiles at her. “No.” He places a kiss on her forehead. “But I will come get you tomorrow at seven for dinner. Does that work?”
“Yes it does. Thanks for bringing me home tonight.”
“Anytime. I mean that.”
Kiara flips over to her side, hands resting underneath her head. “Drive safe.”
Harry is unsure about his life. In fact he is unsure about leaping into this with Kiara. He knows they aren’t dating, and that's good for him. He needs time to figure out his life. He knows if he wants to be in Kiara’s life, he has to pay off his fathers debt’s and get out of the mafia, or else he will never truly have the life he wants.
Right now, he can see a future with Kiara. He can see himself waking up next to her, making breakfast. He can see himself enjoying a domestic life with her.
He knows he can’t have that right now. But he sure is gonna work like hell for it. For her.
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asmo-ds · 4 years ago
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I've seen alot of headcanons about Simeon turning into a demon, but how would everyone react if Luke managed to turn himself into a demon 🤔 Like maybe he didn't amount up to Celestial Standards (I headcanon the Celestial realm is kinda weird due to the events of the anelic event) and then he made some type of minor violation and they kicked him out of heaven to avoid the possibility of him growing up to be undesirable in the Celestial Realm
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When a Child Falls
Luke-centric ANGST & FLUFF
Warnings: Pain, falling from heaven, Luke hurting :(
Summary: After failing to live up to the standards of his superiors Luke is kicked out of the Celestial Realm and becomes a demon. Luckily for him the exchange program had given him so many new and old friends who wanted nothing but to help the poor child despite any bitter past they may have had with him
a/n: i was gonna do headcanons but then i was like what if i make a whole one shot about him falling and everyone helping him adjust to his new life and uh yea <3
Also this didn’t come out as angsty as I wanted it to but demon brothers comforting a fallen Luke >>>>>>>
He tugged on his own arm, begging for the elder angel to release him and give him a second chance, his once hopeful blue eyes filled with tears and terror. 
“Stop, I swear I just need more time, PLEASE!” Luke cried, punching the elder’s arm and attempting to pry his wrinkly hands from Luke’s small forearm. The elder yanked Luke’s arm harder, resulting in a distressed cry from the short blond.
Luke tried to steady his breathing as they approached the boundaries of the Celestial realm, where he was to be pushed off for his failure to earn his wings in a timely manner. The Celestial realm saw him as useless and decided they would be better off discarding a weak angel like himself.
“LET HIM GO, PLEASE! DON’T DO THIS!” Luke could hear Simeon’s breaking voice screaming at the elders who held him back from Luke to prevent any interference, “JUST LET ME SAY GOODBYE PLEASE,” he begged to which the elder finally agreed and the two embraced tightly. “Luke you listen to me, you get to the Devildom you go STRAIGHT to Lucifer, he helped his brothers and himself through his fall he can help you, please, trust him with at least getting you through the transition then you can hate them again or whatever you want, pl-”
“I get it, Simeon, I promise I won’t let you down,” Luke interrupted, tears falling from his eyes onto Simeon’s broad shoulders. 
“Times up. Luke come to the edge, stand here,” an elder guides him into position. 
Luke’s hearing starts ringing as his adrenaline kicks in, the fear of death and disappearing from existing overwhelming him. His breathing grew fast, and before he knew it, he felt a push and wind pounding against his skin as he fell, and fell, and fell, until he saw the Devildom soil and he tensed, preparing for the worst.
Instead of hitting the ground he hears a fwoosh and finds himself caught in strong arms.
“Luke! What happened, where is Simeon? A young angel like you shouldn’t be down here all al-” Lucifer starts questioning the angel, concerned to see the small boy falling from so high. He was interrupted by a cry of agony, Luke pushed away from Lucifer, doubling over and screaming as the pain began to set in.
Lucifer recognized the transition immediately and how badly it hurt his brothers, so he gently approached the young boy, who glared at him with teary pained eyes, and he murmured a spell, before darkness washed over Luke.
His innocent blue eyes fluttered open, not recognizing his surroundings, he sat up quickly, wincing and hissing as his back was suddenly filled with unbearable pain. 
Oh that’s right, I fell. They pushed me and now…His eyes snap open, remembering the feeling of falling, but nothing that happened afterward.
“I have… to find… Lucifer..” Luke spoke to himself, taking short breaks between every few words to take a painful breath, feeling his ribcage expand and contract as his wheezing continued.
“I’ve already found you, Luke, you’re in one of the bedrooms of the Demon Lord’s Castle. Please lay back and take off your shirt, your back is bound to be in a lot of pain, this serum will help.” The blond flinches as Lucifer rises from a chair next to the bed where he laid. 
Luke raises his arms and let Lucifer take off the shirt before laying on his stomach.
He hears Lucifer’s breath catch in his throat as he stares in horror at Luke’s back, where wings were starting to form, dark and mangled with feathers tangled and in need of a cleaning.
So like that, Lucifer kept Luke safe and took care of him whilst the other brothers prepared a room at the House of Lamentation for him to stay.
-
“Luke, I’ve brought you some tea and cake,” Barbatos walks into the bedroom carrying some snacks and drinks for the injured boy.
“Thank you Barbatos, I missed your cooking,” Luke smiles slightly before taking a big bite of cake and groaning. “Like, I really missed it-”
“Yes, Barbatos makes splendid food, which is why I keep him around!” Diavolo winks, nudging Barbatos with his elbow a bit.
“Actually sir, you only keep me around because no other demon has been able to keep up with your antics-”
“ANYWAY, Luke your wings look like they’re growing in nicely, and so do your horns,” Diavolo walks over to examine Luke’s new form. “You’ll probably be in a lot of pain for at least a few more days, but if you want to get situated into your new home we can let you go and just check in on you everyday.”
“Uh… I don’t want to intrude at the House of Lamentation, if it’s going to be any sort of burden to them-”
“Nonsense, my brothers and I are glad to take care of you and take you in, you experienced the same fate as us, albeit for different reasons, but still, we know your pain and we want to guide you so please, Luke, let us help you,” Lucifer places a reassuring hand on Luke’s shoulder as he says this.
“...Okay, BUT no calling me a chihuahua- GOT IT?!” Luke pokes Lucifer’s chest aggressively and earns a hearty chuckle from him.
“I agree not to call you a dog anymore,” Lucifer laughs out, “though I cannot speak for my brothers.”
-
“I can’t believe the chihuahua of all people got kicked out…” Mammon says, still in shock that the angel who had been so determined to make people smile just a year before during the exchange program had somehow managed to get himself thrown out of heaven.
“I remember when I almost didn’t earn my wings in time,” Asmodeus shudders at the memories of being threatened with exile and constantly pushing himself way too hard, “I got so many wrinkles from the stress.”
“Luke makes good food, I’m glad he’s staying with us.” Beel’s mouth was watering as he and Mammon moved a dresser, finally finishing getting Luke’s new room in order.
“Oi, try to be sympathetic when he gets here Beel. He may be a little annoying kid but he’s going through what we went through,” Mammon scolded his younger brother, an uncomfortable silence taking over the room as each and every one of them remembers the pain they were in as their bodies morphed into those of demons.
“God is such an asshole…” Belphegor mutters, getting extremely angry the more he thinks about it.
Luke had done nothing wrong, Lilith had done nothing wrong, so why? Why would he keep getting rid of the most determined of his angels over such insignificant things?
Suddenly all their phones go off with a text from Lucifer saying he and the boy would be arriving soon. They all gathered in the entrance hall, waiting for Luke to arrive. The front door creaked open, all of the brothers standing up straighter and nervous as Lucifer stepped through the entrance with Luke just behind him. 
The brothers all gasped quietly in shock at the state of Luke. He was pale and thin and the look of complete and utter despair in his formerly innocent eyes filling the room with a depressing atmosphere.
“H-hey there Fido- I mean- Luke, how’re you feeling?” Mammon tries to start up a welcoming conversation, getting a nasty look from Lucifer, who Luke was clinging to for dear life.
“Luke! As soon as you’re feeling able to, what do you say we bake something together?” Beel smiles sweetly, most of them getting nothing but nervous looks from Luke in response to their questions.
“I’m just going to help him get settled in. Satan you’re in charge of everything else around the house while I take care of Luke and my own paperwork.” Lucifer guides Luke up the stairs.
Satan rolls his eyes but mutters a small “fine,” before the two head upstairs to the attic, where they’d set up the room to look just like the dorm he stayed in at Purgatory Hall.
“Oh wow, it feels like I’m back in the exchange program,” Luke chuckles a little, clearly faking any sort of joy.
“Luke,” Lucifer kneels down, “you are one of my brothers now, you have nothing to fear, and Simeon will be able to visit at some point-” His attempt to ease Luke’s worries is interrupted by a loud sob.
“Don’t you get it?! Michael and Simeon will never look at me the same, ever again!” Luke wails, using his sleeves to wipe the tears that streamed down his face. “All I ever wanted was to impress them! To impress God and make humans happy and protect them! But now my natural instinct to hurt humans ruins any chance of me becoming the person I’d always thought I’d be!” Luke falls to his knees, sobbing and wheezing, his vision becoming blurry as a panic attack hits him like a truck. He can barely hear anything except for Lucifer calling out a name, and all he could make out was that it wasn’t his own name. A dark figure walks into the room and Luke hears muffled voices for a minute before he is suddenly extremely calm, his eyelids growing a bit heavy and he feels exhausted.
He then realizes someone was holding him and murmuring some sort of spell, causing him to panic once more, but this time he was perfectly aware and just jumped up ready to fight.
“Hey you dirty demon! Don’t use your dark magic on me or else I’ll-”
“Pfft hahaha,” Belphegor laughs hard, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, “you still look like a chihuahua when you get annoyed!” Belphie teases and Luke blushes, before running at Belphie and tackling him, leading to a wrestling match on the floor as Lucifer stands by and watches the two of them closely, to ensure nobody got hurt under his watch. 
-
Dinner was the worst, to be honest. Luke had asked Lucifer if he could cook to say thanks for taking him in, but now he sat awkwardly and all of the brothers remained quiet, watching his every move and watching him like he was an injured little puppy.
“I-is the food not good?” Luke questions looking around nervously.
“AH- no its great Fido- LUKE, ah jeez I’m getting a headache this is so hard to adjust to,” Mammon slams his head on the table, earning a glare from Asmo and Satan who he sat between.
“Anyways, I know you’ve been to the Devildom before and don’t really need a tour BUT you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg, there are so many more places to go!” Asmo smiles widely at Luke, “So let’s go together soon, okay?”
“Okay!”
“Ooooh Luke, you have to tell me what Celestial Realm video games are like, GAH I wish we had waited to start a war until after the invention of video games. Anyway I got a new one so I can show you a Devildom game and-”
“Shut yer trap Levi,” Mammon leans over the table to attempt to cover Levi’s mouth.
“But let the GREAT Mammon show ya all the best spots in town~”
“NO-no do not take the child Gambling, Mammon,” Asmo smacks him.
“Asmo for all we know you’re gonna scar him and take him to a strip club,” Belphegor smirks, knowing he just started a war.
“I WOULD NEVER, COME HERE YOU BRAT,” both of them in demon forms chasing each other around the house and screaming.
Suddenly everyone hears a child’s laughter and looks at the blond who had barely even smiled since arriving.
“We can try to do everything you guys want to show me,” Luke smiles. Everyone lets out a sigh of relief seeing that Luke was feeling more comfortable around them. “Um, question though… how do I go in and out of my… demon form?” 
“HAH that’s easy, just relax and let the GREAT Mammon teach ya!”
“Mammon, not yet. Luke, I will teach you, but we need to wait a bit longer or else the pain of transforming will be unbearable for you,” Lucifer looked down at the disappointed boy.
“Oh, ok.”
“Don’t look so gloomy Fid-LUKE JEEZ LOUISE- there's a lot the GREAT Mammon can teach ya in the mean time!” Mammon stands up with a cocky smile, hands on his hips. “Think of me as ya new master and you are my apprentice!”
“NO do not think of him like that he will make you do his dirty work,” Satan says, hitting Mammon in the stomach.
“Thank you,” Luke looks at Lucifer, “thank you for taking me in, I-I know we don’t have the best past and I was super rude towards demons during the exchange program but-but I’m trying to change for you guys! Thank you!” Luke bows his head, tears falling down his cheeks. The knowledge that he can never go back to the way he was bringing on more tears, but they didn’t mind. They’d been through the same process. So silently they all comforted him and welcomed him into their home with  open arms.
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