#I'm still very fond of this fic in any case

[epersonae]

I'm picking Wage Wars Get Rich Die Handsome because I desperately want season 2 to answer the question of how long Izzy and Ed have known each other but I don't have high hopes. 2 & 5!

What scene did you first put down?

I had to go look at the google doc versions because I legit didn't remember (it has been over a year and I wrote it in less than a week), but it looks like I wrote the whole thing in order. I do kind of remember having that line in my head as the starting point -- and that didn't change from the first draft all the way to the published piece. Just that tiny bit of interiority of Ed getting his first ship was the spark of the thing.

What part was hardest to write?

I remember it being really easy to write, mostly, and the hard part was the feeling of looking back at my own history. Because what I was trying to do was think about what the beginning of a bad thing looks like, when you don't think it IS a bad thing. Things like remembering all the times my ex was critical of stuff and it felt helpful at first and how eventually that became a constant exhausting emotional weight 😅

So the writing flowed, but it did kick my ass a bit, emotionally speaking.

FWIW, I have a draft of a different version of the story where they meet up quite a bit later, which is closer to my current headcanon, so far I have little more than some vague ideas, but I do like the intro:

Two kinds of guys want to be first mate, in Ed's experience: guys on their way up, and guys on their way out. Trouble with the first is obvious. Looking to make their mark, either get their own ship or mutiny yours out from under you.  The second seems like it'd be easier, but those guys? They get lax, they get sloppy. End up with a mistake, or yeah, a mutiny, but the other way. Someone farther down the line thinking: I could do better than that old fart. And then get wondering why captain picked that old fart, and there you are.  Either way, a bit of a time limit on the position, yeah?  Given all that, he's been working on the puzzle of what a third thing might be.

Someday, maybe, I'll come back to the rest - who knows, maybe we'll get just enough in S2 that it'll trigger something :D

[fic asks]

[sollucets]

I kinda want to ask you to write all touch prompts for akk and aye but because that is unreasonable and way too greedy, how about 26, 27 and maybe 33? thank you so so much! And congratulations on your followers!!!!

you know, i'd write them all too if i had the fuckin Time [sobs] thank you very much nonny

26 (kissing the top of their head) + 27 (pulling them closer) + 33 (tasting their smile) from this list for my lil event; right around 1k of height difference & nickname shenanigans and talking around another bigger issue!!!! set in the summer after ourskyy, rated t for 'tall'

💜

“Hand me that plate, Shortstop.” 

Akk does, but not without making sure to splash Aye with the water running off of it. “We’ve been over this." They have, although it's been a while since Aye had first tried it in the tent. "That’s your name.” 

With a little yelp, Aye snatches the plate from his hand and sets to drying it with slightly more force than strictly necessary. The water drops stand out against the gray material of his t-shirt. “Why can’t we switch?” 

“Do you not have eyes?” Akk takes another bowl out of Aye’s mom’s sink and starts washing it with a little grin. “Grow a bit taller and we can talk.”

He expects Aye to fire back with a water attack of his own, or an insult, so when neither comes he turns to look at his boyfriend in faint surprise. Aye is giving the plate an undeservedly contemplative look, lips pursed. It’s very cute. Akk splashes him again. 

“Akk,” snaps Aye, his nose going all scrunched the way it does when he’s actually annoyed. 

“Aye,” Akk answers, grin reaching all the way up to his eyes. 

Aye stares for a long second, then softens all at once, mouth curving up in turn. He still elbows Akk in retribution before picking up his next dish, though. “So if I was taller than you, we could switch? I could be your Bigfoot.”

“If you were taller than me, I would’ve come up with a different nickname in the first place.”

“But I wouldn’t have,” Aye says decisively. “You’d have been Shortstop to me.”

Akk shoots him a sidelong look, dubious. “It's annoying, so yes, probably. In a hypothetical parallel universe where you’re taller. Why are you suddenly so obsessed with this? Don’t you call me enough things already?” 

“Do you not like it, darling?” asks Aye, all coy and playful, and it devolves from there. He doesn’t bring up the height thing again that day. 

But apparently he didn’t actually forget, because in the time following that initial conversation Aye starts taking every possible opportunity to be taller than Akk. 

It starts small, like Aye insisting Akk sit on the ground while he’s on the couch so he can reach his hair to dry it, calling him Shortstop in a tone of such overdone honeyed affection that all he can do is laugh. Or like Aye crawling into Akk’s lap so he has a height advantage when they kiss, and Akk making sure he doesn't get a chance to use any nickname at all.

Then it escalates, as things frequently do with them. Aye sits on top of the couch backrest at Akk’s house instead of on it, buys a pair of shoes with these ridiculous heel boosts, sits on Akk's desk while Akk writes his admission essays. At one point, very memorably, he gets on a table at a party they’d attended with Kan and refuses to come down until Akk has to drag him. 

Akk doesn’t mind as much as he’s pretending he does, which is something he’s found works for them with these things. It makes Aye happy to see him annoyed, so if he gets what he wants and the behavior isn’t actually that annoying, it’s a win for both of them. And it is funny, honestly, and frequently ends with Aye hanging off of him somehow. 

Still, though, after nearly two months of their summer together being intermittently marked by Aye’s new favorite running joke, something starts to nibble at the corner of Akk’s mind. It’s late summer now, and they’re running up closer to the thing they’ve barely managed to talk about: Aye’s impending departure, and his own entry into a northern university. And— well. He can’t manage that, but he might be able to manage this.

So the next time Aye makes a point of standing two stairs up in his own home to talk to Akk, he turns and looks up at him and asks, point-blank, “Does it bother you that I’m taller?” 

Aye blinks once, twice, then laughs a little. After a second, he seems to realize that Akk is honestly asking and tilts his head with an expression of mild bemusement. “No, baby. I like it, you give great hugs and have great legs. Why?”

Akk makes a sputtering noise and tries not to get derailed thinking about Aye’s feelings about his legs, which he did already know about for— various reasons. Instead, he pointedly jerks his chin at Aye, noticeably needing to tilt his head up to do so. 

“I'm just messing with you,” Aye says, reaching a hand out with a little smile. “I thought you knew.” 

“I do,” says Akk, and lets Aye take his hand and pull him one step up the stairs. It doesn’t equalize their heights; Aye’s still just a little taller like this. “But... it’s been going on a long time.”

“Yeah, I guess it has,” says Aye a little thoughtfully. “I just like seeing—” 

“—My angry face. I know.” 

Aye outright giggles at that, gently intertwining his fingers with Akk’s. “If you know, then why are you worrying about it?” 

Akk can feel his resolve failing already. He sighs. 

“I guess,” says Aye thoughtfully after a moment, “I do also like it when we… switch.” He wiggles his eyebrows and continues talking over Akk’s incoherent noise in response. “So it’s fun for me, to try and turn the little nickname thing on its head. Not that you’re cooperating.” 

“You wouldn’t like it if I cooperated,” Akk says, half-sure, and tries mostly unsuccessfully to glare up at Aye. 

“Oh, but I do,” Aye says, tugging him even closer by their twined hands and putting his other one on the back of Akk’s neck, pushing his head down enough to press a kiss to the top of it. “Just not right away. I like getting you to admit things."

There's an odd-- hesitation there, a long moment of silence. Akk looks back up, their faces close enough to kiss properly now, and sees Aye looking away from him, eyes big and preoccupied. 

“What?” Akk prompts, and when he doesn’t get an answer, adds, “Bigfoot?” 

Aye’s gaze snaps back to him, suddenly focused and intent and sparkling, and he grins. “Yeah,” he says, slowly like he’s savoring the confirmation, “That’s nice.” 

Akk leans up a little further and kisses that smile, gently and then less so when the fingers on the back of his neck tighten and pull him closer. He leans into it with a sigh and tries not to think about other things Aye might like him to admit, and instead thinks about how — it is nice, sometimes, to be the smaller one. 

[logaenhowlett]

THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD IN HER HANDS - L.H.

Summary: After months of watching you relentlessly try to gain control of your powers, Logan finally takes matters into his own hands.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff - so much damn fluff, Slight angst, Language

A/N: Suffering from writer's block on a plot-driven angsty Logan fic so I wrote this to focus on something else. Shout out to End by Frank Ocean. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

“You’ve been going at it for hours.”

His voice makes you pause, shifting your concentration to the man leaning against the door frame. Logan watches as you swing your head down, possibly frustrated by his interruption.

“Professor said I’d get better at this,” You swipe the sweat off your face, grabbing your drenched shirt as it clings to your skin, “It’s been months and I'm nowhere near strong enough.”

He huffs in amusement, he would often catch you in moments like these, tiring yourself hour after hour till you were exhausted enough to finally pass out. It reminds him of his early days at this place. Young and eager to prove himself to everyone here, that he was capable of being good once again.

“Old man doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about.” A measly attempt to shut down your self-deprecation, he knows nothing will convince you otherwise, that much he learned over the last few times he tried reasoning with you. When you shoot him a questioning glance, he relents, raising his hands up in defense. “Alright. But you’re not doing any good wearing yourself to the bone.”

“I just want to be like Storm and Scott and you.” 

“Well, if that’s the case, the bar ain’t that high.” A teasing grin shining as he approaches you, the annoyed expression on your face does little to stop him. “Come with me.”

“What?”

He chuckles at your confusion, wandering dangerously close into your personal space. “I wanna show you something,” He murmurs.

Flirting isn’t a new concept to him at all. Though you never get used to his attempts, always brushing it off with the assumption that it’s just a game.

“Logan - I need to keep practicing.” You take a few steps back, creating a little distance from his very distracting presence. “It’s the only way I’ll get better at controlling this.”

“Okay.” He drags out, “You can still keep doing this when we come back.”

As you contemplate his request, he knows he has you convinced, a grin tugging on his lips. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

When he leads you to the mansion's garage, you recall all the times he'd whisked you away from moments of misery and fatigue. He seemed to have this innate ability to know when you're in over your head, too absorbed into whatever you were doing to take a step back and relax. A tinge of embarrassment creeps into your thoughts, feeling bad for him to constantly keep checking in as if you were incapable of knowing your limits. Fuck, I'm a mess. You snap yourself from going down the negative route, shifting your focus to Logan, a chuckle escapes you.

“You know he hates it when you steal his bike, right?”

He swings a leg over, revving the engine. The sound seems to unintentionally comfort you, your mind having subconsciously associated it with him. Despite Scott being the owner of vehicle, he rarely saw it since it was Logan’s choice of transportation. Fucking dickhead, he used to curse up and down, unwillingly giving up after Charles reasoned with him one too many times. You remember the entire ordeal, having to intervene during one of their many childish fights when Scott attempted to blow up Logan’s ass.

“I’ll fill up the tank.”

“No, you won’t.” A short laugh leaves you as you wrap your arms around him.

He flashes a smile, tilting his head back to ensure you’re properly seated. “No, I won’t.”

You hardly pay attention to his driving, instead mindlessly watching the scenery zip past. It wasn't the first time Logan had taken you on a ride. In fact, after the initial fear, you had grown fond of this time you got share with him. A quiet and peaceful journey where you could turn your restless mind off and simply enjoy each other's company. An unspoken vow of trust had always lingered between you two, which was something he cherished more than he could ever express. He smiles softly at the weight of you resting on his back as the breeze encompasses around you.

“How’d you even find this place?” You ask, sliding off the seat as he kicks the stand.

“Used it for shelter during that snowstorm a while ago. The bike gave out on me.”

You hum in response, spinning on your feet to look around. It's an abandoned gas station that had definitely seen better days. Despite all the damage and vandalisation, it was an oddly interesting location, a lake nearby overlooking lush fields. Nothing in Logan's expression gives away his intention of bringing you here. He slowly steps backwards, a hint of a smirk tugging his lips and when he's a decent distance away, “Hit me.”

“What?”

“Use your power, sweetheart. Don’t be scared, you can do it.” It's rather encouraging and not at all akin to his usual cocky tone.

“Logan - what, no!” You exclaim, finding his proposal ridiculous. “I’m not - I can’t even fully control it. What if I hurt you?”

He scoffs, amused you could even suggest such a thing, “Well, you’re gonna have to control it, aren’t ya?” When you make no attempt to try, his gaze softens, “I can take it.”

You take a deep breath, channelling your focus to create a ball of energy between your hands. Despite being small, it hits him with enough force to push him back a few steps. A groan leaves him as he clutches his stomach, you shift to run towards him but he lifts his hand, making you stop.

“Again. Don’t hold back.”

This time you think of Charles, remembering all the lessons and training sessions you've had with him. Where you had always doubted yourself, he had constantly reassured you and your ability to control your gift. The ball of energy grows more between your hands, crackling with intensity. Using all your might, you aim at Logan once again, hitting him square in the chest, thrusting him back several feet, the impact denting the ground in the process. He stands up feeling a bit lightheaded, though that sensation disappears as he flexes his muscles, grateful for his healing factor.

“I did it!” You laugh in surprise, running to him.

His arms immediately wrap around you, slightly lifting you off the ground. “You did it,” He says with a faint smile, taking in your satisfaction.

Caught up in moment of finally making progress, you notice the lack of space between Logan and you. And suddenly, his hands on your waist, his tender expression, it all becomes too much, making you pull back. “You’re insane. That could’ve gone so wrong,” You spit out, trying to relieve some tension.

“I trust you.” He whispers, softly.

Your body seems to be on fire, everything about this begins to overwhelm your senses. With a shaky breath, you try stepping away from his gentle grip.

“Why do you always run from me?” His words still your movements. His eyes can't seem to find yours, instead settling on the charred ground beneath him, "I know… you feel this too.”

“I’m - I don’t…”

“Let me in, sweetheart. I won’t run away.” He approaches you, giving you the space to reject his advances. ”I promise.”

When you don't respond, he hangs his head low, accepting your decision. “Let’s go home,” He mumbles.

As you walk down the hallway to your room, you can't seem to shake the urge to run back to him. You take a moment, hand grasping your doorknob before you spin around. Within seconds of knocking on his door, he swings it open catching your distinct heartbeat on the other side.

“Logan - I just…” The words die on your tongue. Every little feeling you'd held for him comes rushing forward. As he stands there, growing concerned for your wellbeing, all you can think about is kissing him till the air leaves your lungs.

“You okay?”

That's enough for you to slam into him. You grab the collar of his white shirt, pulling him down. Your lips find his own, slowly moving against the soft flesh. It takes him less than a second to comprehend what's happening before he reciprocates your actions.

You tilt your head back, inhaling his comforting scent. He continues peppering kisses on your face, unable to stop once he finally got a taste. “I'm sorry, I was scared. I am scared,” You whisper.

“I know. But I’m here for you. I’m always gonna be here for you.” He murmurs against your lips, “If you let me.”

Your smile sends flutters to his heart. His low chuckle echoes within you as he leans down, capturing your lips with a hunger he'd suppressed for as long as he could remember. When your moan teases his senses, he lifts you with ease, one arm securing your waist and the other gently stroking the underside of your thigh. He lowers you down onto the bed, noting your exhaustion from earlier. Sliding right next to you, he presses a light kiss on your temple, pulling you into his warm embrace. A silent promise that he'll never let you go.

[lovegoodlane]

Pursuing the Prefect- 3

3.7k words

Warnings: mentions of sex, teasing, oral sex [female receiving], fingering

Summary: Fred and his prefect continue to grow closer, but their relationship grows tense when he suggests a public date (soft Fred, dom (ish) Fred)

Author's note: Here's another part! I'm trying to build up a storyline in case y'all want this short fic to continue. Enjoy <3

Link to part 1, part 2

----

Another week at Hogwarts had passed. You had spent a bit of time with Fred, sneaking kisses in empty classrooms and even spending Saturday night curled up on a blanket at the quidditch pitch. It was nothing official yet, but you were enjoying getting to know him.

It was already Thursday. The weeks were passing by in a blur. As a Sixth Year, you were focused on studying as much as you could before taking the entrance exams for an Upper School program in potions. It was difficult to get in, so you spent much of your free time cramming as much information into your brain as possible.

You walked to dinner with Cho and Beatrice, chatting about the Winter Ball coming up next month. Beatrice had been talking your ear off about Oliver Wood for the past week, and she was hoping that he would ask her to be his date.

"He's so dreamy," Beatrice swooned. "If he doesn't ask me to be his date, I might use a curse on him."

"Do you talk about anything other than Wood?" Cho snapped, clearly annoyed.

Cho's relationship with Cedric Diggory had been on the rocks. She had a bit of a jealous streak, and watching other girls fawn over Cedric got on her nerves. They'd been arguing about it nonstop for the past month.

"Cho, leave her alone," you said defensively. "She's allowed to be chuffed about Wood. You were the same with Diggory. I get that you're brassed off, but that's not Bea's fault."

Cho glared at you, huffing. She knew you were right. "Who are you going with? Seems like Adrian is your only option," she said, veering the conversation topic away from herself.

"I'm definitely not going with Adrian," you said empathically. "I don't need to have a date, I'm not worried about it."

"Maybe Fred will ask you," Beatrice teased, nudging you. "He seems pretty fond of you."

"I'd rather go to the ball with a toad than Fred Weasley," Cho asserted.

"Godric Cho, pull the stick out of your arse, will you?" you said, clearly irritated with her. 

You still hadn't filled Cho in about your situation with Fred. The only thing she would do is make snarky remarks and tell you that it's a bad idea. She was too worried about her squeaky clean reputation to see any value in associating with the Weasley twins. It pissed you off.

"I think I'm actually going to skip out on dinner, I'll grab something from the kitchen elves later. I want to get a start on my Potions assignment," you said as you had reached the Great Hall.

It was just an excuse to not have to sit through dinner with Cho. You could barely stand her recently, and taking some space felt like a good decision. 

Beatrice squeezed your hand in a goodbye, and Cho only shrugged and rolled her eyes. You turned to head for the library, wanting some peace and quiet after dealing with Cho's attitude.

You were only paces from the library when you ran in to the Weasley twins. 

"Hey birdie," Fred greeted you. "Heading back into your abyss?"

"My abyss?" you questioned.

"The library," he said matter-of-factly. "They should give you a cot so you can sleep there, would save you a trip to your dormitory."

"Have you two even seen the inside of the library? Or do your pranks occupy too much of your time?" you asked, crossing your arms and jutting out a hip. You raised your eyebrows at them expectantly.

George chuckled, enjoying the attitude that you were hurling at his brother. Very few people had the guts to stand up to Fred.

"You can show me if you'd like," Fred retorted, stepping closer to you. "Though I can't promise that I'll be much interested in doing homework, if you know what I mean."

You bit the inside of your cheek. These flirty showdowns were routine between you two, but somehow it was more embarrassing when someone was watching. Like George. But that didn't mean that you were going to let Fred win.

"I would be willing to tutor you again, Merlin knows that your grades need it," you said, closing the space between you and Fred. You reached for his tie, playing with the end. "It'll cost you, though."

George cleared his throat, an attempt at reminding you two that he was still there. It didn't matter though, both of you were locked in to this battle.

"Name a price, darling," Fred muttered, his hands ghosting underneath your robes and finding a place on your hips. 

You looked up at him, trying to soften your gaze to appear innocent. You were going to put the nail into his coffin.

You stood on your toes so you could whisper in his ear. "I keep having a dream where you bend me over a desk in Potions class. That sounds like a sufficient payment to me."

You nipped at his ear before pulling away, grinning at him sweetly as if you hadn't just whispered something filthy in his ear. Fred stared at you, a slight blush in his cheeks in response to your words. He still wasn't used to your boldness.

"Are you two going to shag in the hallway or what?" George piped up, causing his twin to turn around and give him a slap to the chest. 

"We were on our way to dinner. And I am still very hungry, in case you have forgotten," George said, directing his last sentence at Fred. It was a not so subtle reminder for him to keep things moving. 

"Did you have dinner already?" Fred asked after giving George a glare.

"No," you responded. "I was going to get something from the kitchen elves later."

"Then why don't we do that," Fred proposed. "George, you can go on to dinner. I'm sure you won't miss me."

George shrugged and offered you a wave before he headed off in the direction of the Great Hall. You hadn't been intending to spend your evening with Fred, but you could think of worse things you could be doing instead. Like sitting through dinner with Cho.

"The kitchen elves love me," Fred said sarcastically. "You'll have to do your prefect sweet talking to get them to hand over the goods."

——

After getting some sustenance from the kitchen elves, you and Fred ended up back in his dormitory. He wanted to show you the music player that Hermione had gotten him for his birthday last year. It was Muggle technology, and he found it incredibly fascinating.

"What is it called again?" you asked as you settled onto his bed. You propped yourself up with a pillow, waiting for him to work the music player.

"I think Hermione called it a record player," he replied, fiddling with the machine. "You have to put these records on it to make it play music."

He held up a few of the records in his collection. To you, they just looked like big black discs. 

Fred finally settled on a record and put it on the machine, adjusting the volume. It was something you had never heard before.

"This is from a band called Mother Mother," Fred explained. "Hermione says that they're pretty edgy."

He finally joined you on the bed, leaning up on the wall behind him. You both sat there listening to the music for a bit, content without conversation.

"I've been wondering..." Fred started, looking over at you.

"Oh no," you teased. You jokingly put your head in your hands.

"I haven't even said it yet, you git," Fred replied, pulling your hands from your face. You grinned at him, and he grinned back.

"I wanted to know how you started dating Pucey in the first place," he said.

You breathed out. You knew that Fred was curious about your relationship with Adrian. Everyone at Hogwarts knew that you were dating last year, and it took most people by surprise when they found out that you had broken up.

"Adrian's dad is my dad's boss," you answered. "We've gone on holiday together every year since we were kids. The summer before 5th year, he suddenly fancied me. That's pretty much it, I guess."

"That's it?" Fred questioned. "You didn't put him through trial after trial like you're doing to me?"

He flicked at your thigh, emphasizing his teasing. 

"Adrian was different. I was younger then, less experienced. And no one had been interested in me before," you said. 

"There's no way that can be true," Fred said, adjusting his position on the bed. "You've always been pretty. I'm sure lots of blokes have fancied you."

"If they did, none of them told me," you replied, letting out a dry chuckle. This topic was a bit of a sore spot for you. You had always felt like you weren't pretty enough, as you hadn't drawn the attention of the boys like some of the other girls at Hogwarts. But this insecurity subsided a bit as you got older. Who needed attention from a boy when you could have good grades?

You and Fred sat in silence for a moment. He seemed to be thinking about what to say next. 

"Of all of the blokes at Hogwarts, you chose a Slytherin?" Fred asked, half joking and half serious.

You slapped at him. "I don't care what House someone is in. I dated Adrian because he fancied me, and I was tired of all of my friends having boyfriends. Adrian is smart, and he's good looking. And whether you like to admit it or not, he's cracking at quidditch."

"Cracking is a bit of an overstatement," Fred replied. "Did you even fancy Pucey then?"

You shrugged. "I liked the companionship. We had always been friends. It wasn't difficult to turn it into something more. And I wanted to keep up with everyone else at Hogwarts who was snogging and shagging anyone they could get their hands on. Adrian felt like a safe option."

"So it sounds like you never really liked him," Fred said, leaning his head on your shoulder.

"I liked him, but I didn't love him," you answered. "He really loved me. And I still feel bad about that. But I just....my heart wasn't in it."

"Is that why you broke up?" he asked.

"Part of it. He wanted things to get more serious. Slytherin pureblood families are really intense about dating and marriage, and he wanted to consider next steps. I wasn't ready, and I wanted to focus on academics," you said. "I didn't want to break his heart. And I know that he still really cares about me, but I'm not cut out for a life like that."

"What, you mean that you don't want to be the next Narcissa Malfoy? I can't imagine why not," Fred teased, poking at your side. 

"Shut it," you replied, slapping at his hand. "I'm not made to be a pureblood trophy wife who pops out perfect pureblood babies. I want a career."

"That makes sense," Fred said. "You've got enough brains to do anything. So what would you want to do?"

"I want to go to Upper School for Potions," you said. Every time you talked about it, it sounded far away and impossible. "I don't know where I'll go from there. I could make potions for hospitals. Or maybe I'll teach, I'm not sure."

"You'll be cracking at teaching," Fred said, a smile stretching across his face. "My marks in Potions were way better when you tutored me."

A slower song started to play from the record player, and Fred popped up onto his feet. He extended a hand toward you.

"Dance with me?" he asked, giving you a wink.

You tried to fight the smile that started to spread across your lips, but it was too late. You accepted his hand, wiggling off the bed and joining him.

He guided you to the center of his dormitory, placing one of your hands on his shoulder and holding the other. His hand found its way down to your waist.

You began swaying together to the music. It was a bit awkward and clumsy at first, but after a bit, it felt romantic.

"Do you have a date to the Winter Ball yet?" Fred asked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," you teased him, squinting your eyes and scrunching your nose.

"I would actually, because I'd like you to be my date," he said.

"I'll have to think about it," you replied, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of an easy "yes".

"What, do you need a grand gesture?" he asked, squeezing your hip. A lopsided grin was on his lips. 

"The only thing I need is time to think about it," you replied, cocking your head slightly at him.

You leaned your head onto his chest, finally closing the small gap between the two of you. You stayed like this for at least one whole song.

"Birdie?" Fred said, a question clearly on the horizon.

"Yes, Fred?" you replied, your cheek still pressed against his chest.

"We don't have to talk about it if you're not ready, but it's something to consider," he started.

"You're making me nervous," you said, pulling back so you could look up at him.

"No, it's nothing to be nervous about," he soothed. "I wanted to talk about next steps. Y'know, what you're comfortable with and what you're not."

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"Well....we seem to have a comfort level. We snog, mess around a bit. But I wanted to see how you feel about anything more," he said. "And I don't want this to feel like I'm pressuring you, I want to know so I don't overstep."

You could feel your cheeks heating up. Talking about sex in any context made you feel a bit flustered. At least Fred was being polite about it.

"Uhm...well...I'm not sure," you answered. "It feels like a big step."

"I know, birdie," Fred said, his hand moving to your back to rub soothing circles. "There's no rush. I want us to be able to talk about these things if we're going to keep seeing each other."

"Right..." you said, still feeling a bit sheepish. "I just...Adrian and I had sex, but that was only after he said that he loved me. I'm not sure that I'm made for casual hookups like some other people are."

"And that's absolutely okay," Fred replied. "I don't need to shag to know how much I like you."

You looked up at Fred. He was staring at you with those soft eyes again. His patience and willingness to communicate only made him more attractive to you. 

You put your hands on either side of his face, standing on your toes to kiss him. His hands found your waist, pulling you in as close as possible.

Your kisses were sweet, and it felt like Fred was reassuring you that he didn't just see you as a shag. His feelings were genuine and his intentions were pure. Well....pure might not be the best word, but his intentions were good.

Your hands found their way down to his shirt collar, and you tugged at it. You pulled him back towards his bed, pushing him back onto it. You straddled him like you had the very first time you were in his dormitory. 

He kept kissing you, his hands wandering up your thighs. Everywhere he touched felt like an electric shock, and you were dying for more. 

"Freddie?" you said, interrupting your make out session.

"Yes?" he replied, a tad breathless. 

"I need you to eat me out," you commanded, looking him dead in the eye.

Fred smirked. "Your wish is my command, birdie."

He flipped you on your back, propping your head up on his pillows. He resumed kissing you, biting at your lower lip while his hands gripped at your thighs.

Fred worked his way down, undoing your tie and unbuttoning your shirt in what felt like seconds. Your cheeks flushed as he took in your light pink bra. You hadn't considered that Fred would see you bra when you put it on this morning, otherwise you would have chosen something different. 

"Pink? I love it," Fred commented with a smirk. He kissed along your collarbones and down to your chest, leaving a love bite between your boobs. 

He made his way down to the top of your skirt. "I think the skirt is going to stay on this time."

His words were enough to make you want to clench your thighs together. He could feel your body tensing in desperation, so he graciously positioned himself between your legs.

Fred kissed along your thighs all the way down to your knickers. His fingers played at the waistband.

"You still want this?" he asked.

"Please Freddie," you whined.

He pulled your panties down your legs, tossing them onto the floor next to the bed. He worked your skirt up just a bit so he could see what he was doing.

Fred's tongue darted out, teasing you. You almost yelped, gripping onto the sheets to try to keep it together. You were so desperate for him that it felt embarrassing. 

His tongue worked around your clit, purposefully avoiding where you wanted him most. He loved the whimpers that were coming out of your mouth. He knew exactly how desperate you were. 

Fred squeezed your thigh with one hand and brought the other to your clit, rubbing circles with his thumb. His tongue worked its way down to your entrance, and your back arched off of the bed in response.

"You like that, darling?" he asked, pausing for a moment.

You only nodded in response, unable to get any words to come out. Fred resumed, his thumb playing with your clit and his mouth teasing your entrance. 

He pulled his mouth off of you, dragging a long pointer finger down to your entrance. 

"Is this okay?" he asked before going any further.

"Yes. Please," you answered, burning for his touch.

Fred's finger teased along your entrance before finally pushing it into you, a whine escaping your mouth. He worked it in and out slowly, kissing your thighs and leaving love bites.

"More please," you begged, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach.

Fred obliged, plunging another long finger into you. He picked up the pace, and you were rocking back and forth to meet his fingers. 

A number of profanities fell from your lips as you chased your release. Fred was admiring the sight in front of him, relishing in finally having his fingers inside of you.

"Such a good girl for me," Fred murmured. "So gorgeous like this."

You moaned in response, so close to your release. Fred's fingers had found the trigger spot inside of you, and he pounded against it again and again. 

You finally finished, your back arching off of the bed. Fred slowed his fingers, working you down from your high. He kissed the inside of your thigh.

"Fuck, you're perfect," Fred commented, admiring your form as you tried to catch your breath. 

He kissed a trail down your thigh, nipping at your hip bones. He left another love bite just above your hip bone. He loved marking you up, and secretly, you loved it too. His marks were nothing that you couldn't conceal with a glamor charm when needed.

Fred returned to your center, licking a stripe from your entrance up to your clit. You groaned at the overstimulation.

"Think you have another one in you?" Fred asked, massaging your thighs with his hands.

"You're going to be the death of me," you replied, ruffling his hair with your hand.

"That sounds like a yes to me," he smirked, placing one more kiss on your thigh before returning his attention to your clit.

He alternated between sucking on it and playing with it with his tongue, driving you absolutely mad. Your nails dug into his scalp, urging him for more.

"Fuck Freddie," you whined. 

You pulled at his hair, causing him to groan into you. Your hips started to buck up to meet his mouth, trembling at how sensitive you were after your first orgasm.

Fred was determined to make you finish again. One of his hands wandered up to your chest, sneaking under your bra. He pinched and played with your nipple, forcing moans and whimpers out of your mouth. 

"Freddie...so close," you breathed out, struggling to form words. 

Ten more seconds was all you needed to find your second release, trembling and whimpering as you finished. You panted in disbelief at the boy who was able to get you to finish twice. You had a hard enough time finishing once.

Fred kissed along your stomach, working his way back up to your mouth. He finally kissed you on the lips, and you gripped at his hair to pull him even closer.

He pulled back, grinning at you. "Good?" he asked. 

"Don't even," you slapped at his shoulder, giggling at him. 

His head came down to rest on your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair, placing a kiss on the top of his head. 

"I want to take you out on a date," he stated, nuzzling further into the crook of your neck.

"Where?" you asked, still playing with his hair.

"There's a Hogsmeade trip this weekend, how about then?" he said, picking up his head to look at you.

"I'll have to think about it," you replied.

"You are going, right?" he asked, sounding almost confused.

"Yes," you answered. Not a single Hogwarts student would want to miss out on a trip to Hogsmeade. Not even you. 

"Then why not?" he asked, pushing the issue.

You readjusted so you could sit up. Fred sat up too, putting his back against the wall behind his bed. 

"I haven't told all of my friends about you yet," you admitted. "Spending time together at Hogsmeade would make us look like...well, a couple."

"And you have a problem with that?" he pressed on, sounding a bit hurt. 

"No, well....I just like how things are now. It's private. It's just you and I without other people getting into our business," you said with a shrug. 

"So you don't want people to know that you've been seeing me," he stated, turning his head so he wouldn't have to look at you.

"No, Fred," you replied, reaching for his hand. He pulled it away. "I'm just not sure that I'm ready for something so public after Adrian. I need a bit more time."

"You're willing to sneak around and hook up in my dormitory but you can't be seen with me at Hogsmeade?" he said, now very clearly upset. 

"Fred...." you trailed off, trying to find something to say. You agreed, it did sound that way. But you just weren't quite ready for a public commitment. The whole school would be buzzing, and you liked to remain out of the spotlight when it came to gossip. 

"Please, just go," Fred said, still refusing to look at you. You sat there frozen for a minute, absorbing his words. You quickly dressed yourself, pulling your robes on and grabbing your back pack.

You headed for the door, turning over your shoulder before you left. "I'm sorry, Fred," was all you could say before turning the knob and walking out.

----

Next part

[purplekiwis]

𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆

Summary: While they're on opposite ends of the social spectrum, Y/N and Harry have been the closest of friends for years. But could it be that an all-night working session for a science project helps them break out of the friendzone?

Genre: Friends to Lovers | Nerd!Harry x Badgirl!Y/N

Warnings: SMUT | Self-Deprication | This is coming-of-age story. There's no mention of their age but both characters are in their last year of high school (just a heads up in case someone doesn't want to read because of that)

Wordcount: 10k

A/N: ok y'all, so i have made a mistake.

i was like 99% sure there was a request in my inbox asking for a blurb where harry was nerdy? i found it interesting so i started working on it... only to realize halfway into things that that was not in fact what was written in the request 😅

i figured i might as well post it anyways since i wrote it but yeah... i'm sorry, anon! i (now) know you wanted subby!harry, but all i have to give you is nerd!harry (don't worry, i made him a lil subby just for you 🤫)

also, before y'all flood my inbox with asks about the non finished fics (rightfully so) i hear you and i'm very, very sorry for the lack of updates. i had to take a break because i kept feeling like the texts i could come up with weren't good enough for the stories i wanted to tell. i still partly feel that way, but i'm hoping the lack of real harry content will inspire me to write more in the near future. thank you for reading my dumb little stories, i love you 💖

****************************************************************

Harry was never too fond of grocery shopping.

He really didn’t like the whole “put things inside the cart, remove things from the cart at the cashier, bag them, put them back into the cart, get them in the car, take them out of the car, bring them inside and put them away” process.

It was extremely inconvenient to him.

It was also very time-consuming, though Harry believed this particular belief of his was directly influenced by having to grocery shop with his grandparents every other day.

Naturally, they were slower than he was, so he'd just drag his feet behind them, push the cart and wait for them to ask him to grab something from the shelves that their aging pains no longer allowed them to reach.

That part was fine, what bore him the most was how easily they got sidetracked by trinkets that weren’t on the shopping list. Oh! And how they always managed to locate a random old person they knew from God knows where who engaged them in talks that appeared to stretch for hours.

Harry would try and make up reasons not to go with them sometimes, but he always felt a little guilty about it afterwards. After all, it was a very small favor for him to help his grandparents with their groceries, considering they had been the ones to provide him with a loving home after his parents failed to do so.

People always seemed to feel sorry for him when they found out he'd grown up without his “real parents” around, but he'd never had reasons to complain, really. Unlike his parents, Joe and Martha had always treated him nicely and made him feel genuinely loved.

They were a little overprotective at times, but like Y/N always said, that was probably because they watched too much TV.

Speaking of Y/N, Harry didn't hate grocery shopping with her so much. He even kind of enjoyed it as long as the space wasn't too crowded. That day it wasn’t, which he was extremely thankful for because it reduced the chances of them bumping into any familiar faces who might ask about his grandparents, or if the girl he was with was his girlfriend.

That’s another thing he detested about running into people his grandparents were friends with - they loved to pester him with indiscreet questions about his love life that made him go red-faced. It was even worse when he happened to be with Y/N during those times; fortunately, she was always a bit clueless about it. Harry guessed that the reason for that was that she was so comfortable with their friendship that she wasn't even aware of what was going on… even if she thought it a little odd that he kept introducing her as his neighbor even though they weren't neighbors anymore.

Despite the fact that they no longer lived next door to each other, Y/N was still a frequent visitor at Harry’s house. Ever since his family relocated to a different area of the city, it had become custom for her to spend the night whenever the two had group projects to do.

Their journey was always the same. As they got off the bus from school, they would head to the supermarket to stock up on frozen pizzas and late-night goodies to help them through the long hours they’d be spending working on their computers.

That day was no different. They'd just grabbed their pizzas, and were now wandering around the drinks aisle looking at the options.

“Do you think your grandma would notice if we hid one of these in your backpack?” Asked the ex-neighbor, Y/N. The smile on her face got him figuring she was up to no good… even before he noticed the bottle of whatever alcoholic beverage she was holding.

The idea startled him a little more than he'd like to admit. “Don’t start! And put it back before anyone sees you.”

The way his body jumped made Y/N laugh as she set the bottle back on its shelf. “Relax, okay? I was only messing with you... I knew you'd be too chicken to do it. But just so you know, they don't even ask for an ID most times.”

He replied to her with a headshake. “You're not as cool as you think just because you get drunk with your friends every once in a while.” She didn’t seem too pleased by his remark, but Harry figured that by now she ought to know he didn't mean most of what he said when he was annoyed. “You can get an iced tea… or a pepsi… or that weird-flavored soda you like.”

“Fine.”

Harry noticed that even after he allowed her to pick her favorite drink, Y/N still didn't seem particularly happy with him. She trailed behind him in silence while he pushed the cart around and didn't even appear to care when they walked past the shelf where her usual go-to snack was.

“Did you know that statistically, people who start drinking in their teens have a 5 times higher likelihood of becoming alcoholics than those who only start later?” Harry knew it probably wasn't the best conversation topic to get her to talk to him, but it was the only thing that came to his mind in the moment.

“Did you know that stating facts like that makes you look 1000 times more of a nerd than you already are?”

Harry snorted at her retort. “You didn't seem to mind me being a nerd when you asked me to work on the paper with you.”

“I do every paper with you, why should this be any different?”

He smirked at that. It was true. He and Y/N had attended every academic year together since they first met in elementary school, and they had managed to enroll in almost all of the same classes each time. They were currently in their senior year of high school, and their friendship was still pretty solid despite their different personalities and social interests.

Y/N was in the midst of a rebellious phase. In the beginning it all had been quite harmless, with her obsession with dyeing the ends of her hair crazy colors and pairing fishnets with knee socks. That somehow led her into starting to hang out with people Harry considered to be a little unnerving.

He wasn't sure what exactly made him annoyed about them... Maybe it was because he was a little resentful over having to “compete” for Y/N's attention and feared he would one day completely lose her to them, given that they were undoubtedly the cooler part of the equation. Perhaps part of it was also because those people reminded him of the kind who used to bully him for being a dork when he was younger. Thankfully, he wasn't being bullied as much anymore, but he still didn't have many friends.

He also barely interacted with girls, as one might expect. There were times he had crushes, but he was always afraid to talk to them, so things never really went anywhere. Thus, Y/N was really Harry's only female friend.

He confesses sometimes he was surprised she still wanted to hang out with him as much as she did. When she became popular, Harry naturally assumed she would ditch him for social status reasons, but that never happened, which was a big relief to him since he liked having her around.

They were both geeky, so they watched a lot of movies and played video games together... but when it came to other things, they were a little different. Y/N had a much better sense of style, was much more social, and enjoyed doing dumb things like smoking weed and getting drunk behind her parents’ backs.

Harry had never really understood the appeal of it. In fact, his lack of interest in participating in that stuff sometimes worried him a bit, but again... it wasn’t like he wasn’t curious.

There were a few times when he thought it would be cool if he could hang out with Y/N and her friends, go out drinking, dance, and maybe, just maybe, if he was very very lucky, even get to kiss someone on the mouth.

But then he always ended up reasoning that people like him weren't welcome at parties and that if he ever dared to step foot into one he'd probably end up being the butt of everyone’s jokes.

Even knowing so, he couldn't help fantasizing about it… especially the last part. Yes, Harry definitely thought about intimacy a lot more than he'd ever be willing to admit… and he also pondered a lot about how being practically invisible to girls sucked… and about how much he wished one would give him a chance.

He was aware of his issues, however. He knew he wasn’t exactly the hottest guy around. His haircut and clothing were out of style, mostly because he lacked the confidence to mess with his looks and follow the trends the way other people did. He’d buy new t-shirts sometimes; the only thing was that they almost always had gaming-related designs which obviously didn't do his style much good.

But it wasn’t all bad. Harry knew he had nice eyes… he just couldn't get the girls to come close enough to notice them. He figured the way he stared at the floor when he walked, along with the thick glasses he had been wearing since childhood had also taken part in preventing people from noticing how green his eyes were.

He thought Y/N had nice eyes as well, and he liked the way she accentuated them with make-up… even when her eyeliner turned out a little uneven or got smudgy because she forgot she had it on and rubbed her eyes with her fingers.

She'd been doing that a lot in the last hour they'd been working on their paper, which was making Harry feel a little bad.

Normally, by that time in the evening Y/N would already be working on her part, but as they'd started later than usual, she wasn't. Also, being the control freak he was, Harry always wanted to be the one in charge of the research portion of any papers they worked on. Leaving the final task of writing and flourishing to Y/N.

So the poor girl had been sitting next to him for hours, watching him go through articles on his laptop.

Harry could tell by the increased frequency of her yawns that her battery was running low, so he wasn't the least bit surprised when he heard her hesitantly ask, “Are you planning on staying up much longer? Aren’t you getting tired?”

“Um… not really. I found this really cool essay and want to make sure we gather all of their data.” He was so preoccupied with copying and pasting that he didn't even look away from the screen as he replied to the question. “It's a shame we don’t have any hot springs nearby... wouldn't it be cool if we could collect samples of these microbes and study them in the school lab?”

“Are you for real?” She looked at him like he was crazy as she let her back slide halfway down the bedframe. “Do you really find these stupid water microbes that interesting?”

“Not all of them, it’s just that I’d never considered that there could be some growing and thriving in actual boiling water… since, you know, that’s what’s supposed to kill them.” Due to the silence that followed, Harry realized that despite Y/N's efforts to keep him company, she was moments away from falling asleep. “Should I go get the air mattress to make your bed?”

“I can't sleep. I haven't done my part yet.”

“It's fine; we still have the entire day tomorrow to finish.”

“Don't bother with me if you’re focused on the paper. I just need to close my eyes for a bit, but I won’t fall asleep.” She promised, but Harry knew better than to believe her. “Do you mind if use your covers? Your room’s a bit chilly.”

“No, not at all.” He didn't mind it, in fact, he even found it a little exciting. Not in a pervy way, but it felt good to know that a good looking girl would be using his bed and leaving her girly scent on it. Harry tried not to dwell on those kinds of thoughts over Y/N too much, but of course he thought she was hot. He wasn’t that blind.

He hadn't always felt that way. For a long while Harry just thought of her as his best friend, but she'd grown into her curves in the last couple of years and he would be lying if he said his eyes and mind didn't occasionally wander. He felt a little bad about it, but it wasn't like he was ever going to do anything other than fantasize, so he supposed it was alright… as long as she didn’t catch on.

Truth be told, he’d always liked Y/N’s personality, but as of recently her looks and the way she dressed had also made her the type of girl he was attracted to on the outside. Yes, it was always the girls who wore alternative clothing and scowled a lot that caught his eye.

He was aware that his preference sounded extremely stereotypical coming from a shy loser like him, but it wasn’t like he could help what he was keen on.

“Is the entire chapter on Volcanic Islands really necessary?” She asked, leaning further into him so she could see the laptop screen despite being laid down.

“I'm not sure if it's necessary, but I thought we should at least mention these two islands since they keep coming up.” He could feel her sigh of defeat on his arm. “It’s already halfway done. I've already gotten all the info about Iceland… now all that's left is this tiny archipelago in Portugal.” With that, he rushed to type the final location on the Google search bar but was taken aback by Y/N's chuckling. “What are you laughing at?”

“Do you not know how to delete your browsing history?” She asked him, still laughing.

Harry's brows furrowed slightly, but he smiled along. “Huh, why? Seriously random that.”

“Random, really? I may only be half awake, but I can still see.”

“See what?”

“See Pornhub come up on your suggestions when you started typing Portugal.” Harry's face dropped instantly. Then, with a harsh slam, he shut his laptop lid. He could feel his entire body tensing up as a burning wave swept across his face, hotter than he'd ever felt before. “Harry, relax!” Y/N remarked when she saw him like that. She seemed rather worried about it as she clung to his arm and shook it. “Hey, look at me, this isn’t a bad thing. You don't have to-”

Before she could say anything else, Harry covered his face with his sheets and muttered, “Yes it is. It’s embarrassing.” Honestly, even that felt like a tame word to describe how he was feeling. This was, hands down, one of the most awkward circumstances he’d ever been in. He wasn't prepared to deal with it, so he chose to remain hidden and avoid further conversation.

He knew he'd have to come out at some point, but he couldn’t bear the thought of facing Y/N knowing that she knew he watched porn and wanked. It was making him feel all kinds of yucky, which was why he was a bit shocked by what happened right after.

Y/N ventured under the sheets after him, and eventually nestled into his side. The warmth felt nice, but being so close to her was weird. He liked it, but it also made him feel worse at the same time, given that she'd been the catalyst for his breakdown in the first place and all that. Plus, he still couldn't wrap his head around why she wanted to touch him when he felt so icky.

Despite the fact that they were right next to each other, it took a while for one of them to venture breaking the silence. By the time Harry tried, he had a dry mouth, so he had to swallow first. “I know it’s not your fault, but I'd honestly rather you hadn't said anything because knowing you saw is making me feel like shit.”

His faltering whispers seemed to stun Y/N a little, as if she'd already accepted that they wouldn't be talking for the rest of the night. “There's no need for you to feel that way… especially with me.” She returned his hushed words. “I wouldn't have said anything if I knew you'd get like this. I was just joking.”

“I know, but it still bothers me.” Harry was a little surprised by how at ease he felt speaking in quiet whispers while hiding under his covers. For some reason, talking to Y/N in this setting wasn’t as mortifying as he'd anticipated. “And just to be clear, I have no idea how that ended up in my suggestions. I always use incognito mode for that stuff.”

He couldn't see her, but he could feel her shrug. “You must have forgotten to open a new tab. It has happened to me before.”

“Oh. So. You watch it too?”

“Doesn't everybody, at least once in a while?”

“I don’t know… I suppose they must, yeah.” They both fell quiet for a bit, but not for longer than a few breaths as Harry felt the urge to clarify something. “I don't want you to think I'm a perv, though. I don't watch it all that often… not the kind of stuff that you’re probably thinking I watch, anyway.”

“What do you think I think you watch?”

“I don’t know, like… cringy, scripted porn… you know, the usual “oh no, I’m stuck!” stuff that shows up on the main page.”

“Um… I’ll be honest, you’ve always came across as more of a Hentai guy to me. And before you say anything, this isn't just me calling you a weeaboo. I've watched my share too and overall, I think it's much better than that other stuff you were talking about.”

“Yeah, fine... I'll admit that I like Hentai, but it’s not all I watch.” Harry wasn't sure why he felt so keen on sharing all of a sudden, but weirdly, he was kind of enjoying their conversation. He found the topic interesting, and he'd never had the chance to discuss it with anybody in person before so… it was fun. And, on top of that, Y/N was disclosing a bit too and he liked that he was getting to know this part of her as well. “Do you know what audio porn is?” She hummed and nodded yes. “Cool, so, there’s this category called ‘guided masturbation’ that’s basically just girls talking and like... telling you what to do. There’s no visual content really, but it has a very real feel to it that I like... almost as if you're on the phone with someone.”

“That's interesting, actually. I always thought that audio porn mostly for women, since, you know... everyone says men are visual creatures.” She shifted her weight slightly, turning towards him. “But you still find naked girls hot, right? the sight of them?”

“Well, of course. I’d be worried if that wasn’t the case.” Her question struck Harry a little, but he liked that she was acting curious and asking him things. “Honestly, I think the reason why I don't watch more regular porn is because I can't picture myself living out the fantasies. I don’t know, it’s weird to explain.”

“You can’t picture yourself in a sexy plumber costume ready to unclog a hot milf’s pipes?”

Harry snorted. “You're joking, but that's pretty much what it is.”

She hummed as she drew closer to him on the bed. This time her, placing her head into the crook of his arm. Her mouth was closer to Harry's ear in this position, although he wasn't aware of this until he heard, and felt, her whisper again. “Is that why you like to hear girls telling you what to do? because you're a bit unexperienced?”

Harry wasn't usually one to cuss, but shit. Hearing her whisper that somewhat snarky question so close to his ear struck a chord with him. It was freaking hot and kind of reminded him a bit of the audios he liked. Obviously, it wasn't as explicit, but it was better in many ways. A huge downside to the experience, however, was that it was extremely difficult to concentrate afterward. In fact, in the midst of his thoughts, Harry almost forgot to reply. “Um… I guess? I’m sorry, I kind of forgot what the question was.”

“No, it’s all good. I’m sure you must be getting tired.” With that, Y/N crawled out from under the covers. As she did so, her hand stumbled onto Harry’s toppled over laptop. “Oh, I didn’t even notice this was here. We should probably turn it off, right? Assuming you don't want to keep working after this.”

Harry also came out from hiding and sat up in a position similar to hers, with his legs partially covered by the covers. As his eyes re-acclimated to the brightness of the room, he massaged them a little. “Sure. I’ll just need a moment to, uh… make sure the file got saved properly, if that’s okay.”

Taking advantage of his temporary blindness, Y/N snatched his pillow from his side of the bed. She tucked it under herself and slid back under the sheets. “I've got a comfy bed right here so… feel free to take as much time as you need.”

He smiled at her antics as he readjusted the laptop over his legs and opened it. Turns out the file had been autosaved, but Harry still saved it once more before switching off his computer and setting it over his desk. “Yeah, that's fine. I don’t mind giving you my bed for the night and sleeping on the air mattress for a change.”

“Or you could spare yourself and sleep right there instead of worrying about which one of us will be sleeping on the floor.”

Her offer caused his eyebrows to rise, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing to do. He liked the idea of it but was a little concerned about accidentally doing something embarrassing in the middle of the night. What if he made a toot? Or worse, had a wet dream? He hadn't had any recently, but one never knew when it might start happening again. In any case, he'd probably wake up with a stupid morning wood as usual, which was something that he could typically make go away before he got up when Y/N was around… but if she was going to sleep next to him, wasn’t there a chance she could tell? That prospect made him terrified. “Um… I'm not sure that I'm a good sleep partner; grandma says I used to move a lot in my sleep when I was small.”

“Oh. I don’t mind. I just don't feel like sleeping by myself tonight for some reason.” Y/N shrugged, leaving him unsure of what to say next. It was already difficult to say no when it wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it became nearly impossible when he looked at her and met her begging eyes.

Well then, if she was being so casual about it, he figured it must not be that common for people to do humiliating things in their sleep, contrary to what he had previously been led to believe by his insecurities. The other factor that was pushing him to say yes was that having to get up to grab the air mattress from the attic and make Y/N a bed sounded a little too demanding for how lazy he was feeling. His bed wasn't even tiny either, so they'd have plenty of room to spread out without troubling one another throughout the night. “Ok, alright. But don't grumble tomorrow about having trouble falling asleep because of me. This was entirely your idea.”  

“I don’t grumble.” He made sure to let her see his eyeroll before turning off the lights and getting into bed with a second pillow for himself. No one said anything for a bit, they were just adjusting their positions in search for the most comfortable one. Harry was still wide-awake, but he believed it wouldn't be long until Y/N fell asleep. She was already close to when they were working on the paper, so it shouldn't take long at all.

She proved him wrong, though, when she blurted out something after minutes of being quiet. “I have another question for you...”

“Oh. What’s that?”

Harry saw a shadow that he believed to be her head poking up from the pillow, propped on what should be her arm. Her voice sounded quite chirpy too, which meant he’d probably underestimated how awake and willing to chat his friend actually was. “Have you ever… like, kissed anyone?”

“That’s so random.” It was during times like these that Harry wished he could travel back in time. If he could go back and pretend to be asleep two seconds ago when Y/N asked if she could ask him a question, he wouldn’t even hesitate. Heck, he'd even pretend to snore if it meant not having to respond but alas, since Harry didn’t have any time travel abilities, that wasn’t an option. She knew he was awake and was anxiously awaiting his response. “You're quite random sometimes, Y/N...”

Her voice was hushed, yet a little taunting. “That’s not an answer.”

Harry sighed, realizing she wasn't going to let him off the hook until he participated in the discussion she wanted to have. “Alright, then… define kissing... does something like a peck qualify?”

“No, Harry. I'm talking about actual kissing. Tongue and all.”

“Oh um. I knew that, obviously.”

“And did you do it or not?”

“Yeah I, uh. I've kissed...” His words stumbled slightly. They didn't come out as cool or confident as he’d hoped, but he did try to make his statement sound plausible. “But it wasn’t with a lot of tongue... just like, a little bit.”

Y/N let out a snort at his unconvincing answer. “You’re a shit liar, but fine. I used to lie about it too when people asked me.” Rather than defending himself, Harry didn't say anything, which told his friend all she needed to know. “Is it something you think about, though? would you like to do it?”

“Well, yeah… of course I’d like to. Even some of the guys I hang out with have done it... and you’ve seen them.” Harry felt a bit mean making that remark about his friends' looks. Obviously, he wanted them to have someone who liked them, but that didn’t change the fact that none of them had much going in terms of physical appeal. “I'm not saying this to make you feel sorry for me. I know I’m the problem and that the reason why I haven’t kissed yet is because I’m not a kissable person. My only hope is that things will change once we start college. I don't know if I ever told you before, but I've been thinking about switching to contacts. I was also thinking it could be nice to exercise a bit just so clothes would fit me better. What do you think? It should help, right?”

Even in total darkness, Harry could tell that Y/N's eyebrows were deeply furrowed by her tone of voice. “Who was it that told you you weren't kissable?”

“Nobody needed to tell me. I see myself every time I look in the mirror. I dress like my grandpa and have a bit of a hunch like him too.”

“I think you're mistaking being unattractive for wearing clothes that aren’t particularly flattering. It's very different.” Harry knew she couldn't see it, but he was kissing his teeth at what she’d said. “If the reason why you want to make those changes is to feel better about yourself, then you have my full support… I do, however, have a feeling that’s not all it is, so I hope you realize that you don’t have to bend over backwards to be likable or kissable, or anything else. You already are all of those things exactly as you are.”

“I appreciate you sugarcoating things to make me feel better but if what you are saying were true, and I was fine the way I am, I wouldn't have this much trouble finding someone who saw that in me.” He sighed, a little annoyed by her efforts. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s hard for me to believe you’ll ever understand what it feels like to be me. You’re like... the coolest, most kissable girl ever.”

There was a slight click, and suddenly the room got soaked in an orange light that caused Harry to squint despite his familiarity with it. His bedside table lamp was on, and Y/N was staring at him in awe. “You think I’m kissable?”

Crap. Had he really blurted it out that way? He couldn't recall the precise words he had used, but it seemed unlikely that Y/N was asking him that for no reason. She looked very taken aback by what she’d heard, and Harry, who still hadn't a clue how he’d managed to put his foot in it yet again, felt his face turn red and his tongue stutter once more. “Not in a weird way! Maybe I phrased it in a way that made it seem like I was being weird, but it was just a form of expression. Not that what I said isn’t true, but I would never say it like that. Even if I wanted to kiss you, which has never crossed my mind, really.”

“Hm.” Y/N’s gaze was drawn to her hands as he finished. Harry observed that she was picking at her nail polish, which was rather unusual for her unless she was nervous. “Is it really that ridiculous? I mean, if you wanted to, I wouldn't mind...”

His forehead wrinkled. “Why? Because you feel sorry for me?”

“No Harry, because I'd like to.”

“Me? You’d like to kiss me? Why?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.” Her tone was a little hesitant, but she carried on. “Aff, okay… screw it. I might as well tell you since we’re talking about it. So, I, uh. I have a bit of a thing for you. I’ve had it for a while, but it was never serious… since well, I never really felt like there was a real possibility that it could be reciprocated. That’s why I didn’t tell you sooner, that and because I wasn't sure how things would turn out if you rejected me so… I figured it would be best not to say anything.” She shrugged once more, as a small smile formed on her lips. “You’ve also never mentioned having any crushes or being into anyone, so I thought maybe you weren't interested in that type of stuff much.”

“Yeah, right.” Harry rolled over in bed, facing away from her. It wasn’t unusual of Y/N to play practical jokes on him from time to time, but this one did not go over well with him. It seriously screwed with his self-esteem and since it was her, he could have easily been tricked into admitting something he'd end up regretting. “I know you’re taking the piss and I don't think it's funny, like, at all.”

“Why would I be taking the piss? Do you really think I'd joke about something like this? And look at me when I'm speaking to you!” She pulled on his shoulder, compelling him to lie onto his back so she could at least see his face.

Harry complied with her, but not without a groan. “I'm serious Y/N. If you’re trolling, this is your one chance to say so ‘cause If I find out later that you were doing this to see me make a fool of myself or to get me flustered, I'm going to get really, really angry at you.”

“I may play a lot of dumb jokes, but I don't play with people's feelings like that… let alone my friends' feelings. I'm dead serious, Harry. It's really not that hard to see it if you think a little.” She huffed, upset that he wasn’t taking her seriously. She'd guessed he’d act a little wary at first but hadn't expected him to think she was pulling a prank on him. How could he have missed that she had a thing for him anyway, with how touchy she was when they were alone together? With her acting so eager to be his first kiss? She'd been shit at hiding it for years. It was so clear. “Do you remember when we were kids... my parents took us to a fancy playground by a lake and... there was a girl there who had a Nintendo but wouldn't let me play with it, she would only let you, so I snatched it away?”

"Yeah, I remember.” As he replied, Harry was unable to stop himself from letting out small laugh at the memory. “And then you threw it in the water because you'd heard from someone that Nintendo’s were waterproof. Your parents got so mad, and she wouldn't stop crying. It was awful.”

“Yeah, that. Except, I never really thought that they were waterproof. I did it because she was nasty... and it made me upset that you’d left me to play on the slide alone.” Y/N admitted, also laughing and shaking her head a bit at her childish antics. “I didn't know back then what being jealous was, but I think about that day sometimes... it makes me feel embarrassed obviously, but it also makes me realize that I've always been really possessive of you. I think if you'd turn out to have many girlfriends I would have realized much sooner that my feelings for you weren't just friendly ones.”

“Wow. Was that really what that was?” Harry was stupefied and Y/N couldn't not giggle at his open mouthed reaction. “I’m sorry, it’s just… this whole thing is really confusing. My head is spinning a bit and... being completely honest, part of me still thinks that you’re joking but at the same time, you seem serious enough so I’m gonna choose to believe you. Even if I have no idea why you'd like me that way, other than maybe ‘cause I'm tall.

“The hair too. Don't forget your fluffy hair.” She added playfully. “No but, even though I like those things, they aren’t the reason why I like you. I just do. There’s no logical explanation for it.”

“Yeah, um. That makes sense. I mean, not really but I think I understand that feeling you were describing and… I can kind of relate to it too since I've kind of had a small crush too since last year… or well, I've realized last year... back when you were dating that Joshua guy. It made me jealous. I’ve always thought it was silly though, so I tried not to think about it too much.” Harry acknowledged, albeit doing it with more trepidation and delay than Y/N had. “I've had other crushes too, but they were on girls I never talked to so... they didn’t last too long.”

“Wait so… you’ve had a crush too? since that long?”

“I- uh.. I have. Yeah.”

“You must be really good at hiding your feelings then, because I never noticed anything that suggested that, much less that you were jealous. Trust me, if I had any inkling I would’ve had this conversation with you last year instead of doing what I did. I didn’t even like Joshua much… I just wanted to have someone.” She pursed her lips in a mournful smile before reaching out for Harry's hand. It wasn’t the first time that their hands had brushed, but this time something in Harry's chest was sparked by her touch, making him feel both ecstatic and stiff at the same time. “It's nice that you've had other crushes, though. I think I'd be more upset if I found out you'd been caught up on me all this time and I'd just been completely unaware of it. With that said, I don't want you thinking about other girls now. Only me.”

“Yeah, okay. Just you. I like how that sounds a lot.” Harry had no idea what had possessed him, but he felt compelled to bring her hand to his mouth and kiss it. His gesture made her giggle, but he got somewhat self-conscious afterwards. “Was that lame? Probably, right?”

“No, it was cute. I liked it.” She reciprocated by lifting his hand to her mouth and placing a kiss over his knuckles. “Is there anywhere else you’d like me to kiss?”

With a tentative smile, he gave her a direct glance before nodding. Y/N scooted a bit closer to him but as they got closer, Harry's body tightened a little. He couldn't take his eyes off her lips, yet the sight of the rosy, fluffy cushions was giving him pause. “I’m sorry if I’m not… uh… if I don’t know how to...”

She gave his cheek a comforting caress. “That’s fine, but are you okay? You’re shaking a bit.”

Harry laughed, feeling rather frustrated with himself. “Yeah, um… sorry about that. I'm just really nervous.”

“It can wait if you're not ready.” Y/N made a point of assuring him, even though she had a feeling that waiting wasn't what Harry wanted. He was just nervous, which was totally normal for someone who was about to get their first kiss. The most she could do was try to make him a bit calmer. “Is there anything specific that you're worried about?”

“No, I’m ready. It's just a bit overwhelming. This is all so alien to me… it’s a lot for my nervous system to handle.” Y/N couldn’t not frown a bit at how adorable he was as she listened. “I- I'm also a little in over my head, thinking I probably won’t be as good as the boys you've kissed before.”

“You don't have to worry about that, really. Trying stuff until you figure out what makes the other person melt is the most fun part.” She assured, before giving his hand another kiss. “We’ll learn that from one another, okay?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

Upon his approval, Y/N pulled herself closer and higher, until her face was barely above his. They both smiled as she rubbed her nose against his... once, twice, and then it happened. She dropped her head just enough for their lips to touch.

Her tenderness and Harry's stomach-bursting butterflies were in stark contrast, making for a bizarre, yet fascinating combination of sensations.

They weren't quite in time with one another's lips but their kiss was free flowing. And it felt flawless, akin to a Vivaldi concerto or a Michelangelo masterpiece. There was something alarming about it too, however. Suddenly, Harry could feel the relatively insignificant seed of love that Y/N had planted in his heart blossom into a giant sequoia tree. And he couldn't, for the life of him, fathom the possibility of having shared a moment as nice with anyone else.

He was truly loving whatever love spell she was casting on his body with her kissing, which is why he couldn't help but let out a low whimper when he felt their lips unglue from her pulling away. “Why did you- why did you stop?”

“Your glasses are getting in the way.” She explained as she carefully started pulling them off his face. “Here, much better.” As soon as she was done placing his glasses over the nightstand, she raised her leg and straddled him. Well, sort of. It was more of an embrace; except she was laying on top of him. “This is okay, right? Not too much pressure?”

“Mh-mm. Better. Thank you.” Harry's face was flushed, and he couldn't stop smiling as he stared at her. She was so pretty, and her body over his felt so cozy. It was still hard to believe he had kissed her, but the tingle on his lips confirmed it was real, despite how uncanny it all felt. “I like this a lot, being this close to you.”

“Me too.” She ran her fingertips across his blushing skin. “You're so cute like this. I should’ve kissed you way sooner. You seem to like it too, don't you?”

“Mh-mm. I really do.” Harry desperately wanted more kisses from her, but he was still a little too unsure of himself to initiate. Besides, he’d really liked when she took initiative earlier and led the way so that’s what he wanted to happen again. “I’d like to do it some more, if that’s okay...”

Y/N smiled at his request, but wasted no time before she leaned in to taste his lips again.

It was mostly just smooches that they were trading, but that didn’t keep her from taking a nibble here and there. Harry was very responsive to her nibbles, which she appreciated. She’d never been with a boy who got whimpery and breathy just from making out before, but she found it to be incredibly encouraging and arousing.

What made it extra hot was knowing he wasn't doing it on purpose because he knew girls liked stuff like that. It was just how his body was reacting to her. She was also well aware that her kisses had gotten him bricked up instantaneously. His warm stiffness was palpable between her thighs, despite being covered by his pajama bottoms.

If it had been any of the boys she’d kissed before, the erection would have freaked her out a bit, but as it was Harry she thought it was cute that he was so excited. He wasn't the only one feeling this way though. The damp panties she had on served as a casual reminder that she was getting quite excited as well.

Despite her wants, Y/N had been doing a great job of controlling herself… only that task became much more challenging when Harry started getting more comfortable, more intuitive, and by default, touchier. At some point in the course of their kissing, he’d started sliding his hands up her back and, on occasion, giving her hips a squeeze. He'd noticed she was pleased by this, so he worked up the nerve to lower his hands to her bum and squeeze her there too.

“Not feeling so shy anymore, are you?” Y/N playfully teased, to which Harry responded by smiling and hiding his face by pulling her in for a hug. It hadn't been her intention to rub up on him, but he’d drew her in so close that their bellies were flush together, so when she shifted next he felt it on his crotch… and moaned, all deep and throaty. They stared at each other, until Y/N turned her mouth to Harry's ear and asked, “Do you want this? want me to do it again?”

His nodding was quick. “Just don't go too fast, ‘cause uh... might feel too good.”

“Okay, got it.” She said, then held onto the pillow under Harry’s head, nails digging into fabric as she began to move slowly on top of him. Rolling her hips to press down on the bulge in his pants. The pressure on her clit was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it was a relief to finally have a way to sooth some of the built-up tension, but on the other, it made her yearn for more friction.

She could feel his heavy, strained breathing against her skin. “Mm, it's too much, feels… too good. Ah-” He moaned again, once her fingers gripped at the roots of his hair.

“Shh, quiet.” Y/N covered his mouth and smiled. “I love your moans, but we have to keep it quiet.” She said, before removing her hand from his mouth and putting her lips in its place.

“I know, sorry.” Harry replied once she broke their kiss. “If I get loud again, you can repeat that hand thing if you want… it was hot.”

“Hmm, was it?” She returned her hand to his lips, but this time she allowed two fingers to go inside and prod into his mouth, that he was keeping slightly ajar for her. “That’s good, Harry. You're a natural at this, I think.” She had been straddling him with her body leaning over his, but she sat upright for a moment to appreciate how adorable he looked with her fingers in his mouth from farther away. As soon as he saw her eyes fixed on him, his lips encircled her fingers, and his tongue began to softly wriggle between them. “Mh-m... that's it. Just like that.”

As she started moving her hips again, Harry's hands shot to her waist, to hold her as she rutted against him. This gave her more balance, so she ramped up the pace, rubbing harder and faster to create the desired friction for her. The change caught up with Harry quickly, who began groan restlessly into her fingers in response. She pulled them off to let him speak. “S-slow... please go slower. If you don't, I'll-”

“Make a mess. I know. Give me your hands.” As per Y/N’s request, Harry slid his hands away from her waist and held them up between their bodies. Y/N took them, entwined their fingers together and then without warning, allowed her weight to fall forward, successfully pinning him to the bed. “I know you want to, but you're ashamed about doing it in your underwear. So, I was thinking… if I keep you like this and force it out of you, maybe you won't feel so bad about wanting it anymore. What do you say?”

“I just don't want to get you dirty, that's all. I thought I could keep it under control a little better, but I can't. It feels so much better than my hand.” Harry acknowledged, smiling shyly. “That sounds hot, though… the idea of you forcing it.”

“I know but don't worry about getting me dirty. I brought extra pjs.” She gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hands. “So…you want to do it, then? Since you think it’s hot…”

A delaying groan rumbled in his throat before his lips parted into a broad smile, the kind of smile you make when you’re on the verge of breaking into laugher. “I’m going be so embarrassed about this tomorrow, but yeah. I want to.”

Y/N shook her head at him, grinning. “Don't. I've always wanted to do this. It's a bit of a fantasy of mine, I guess.” She didn’t give him a chance to react to her confession, as she started rutting against his cock again. This time she wasn’t being gentle or avoiding any harsh friction. Her movements were quicker and jerkier than they had been before, and she tightened her hold on his hands as well. She had a hunch Harry liked the feeling of being held down and used, so that's what she was doing.

He was shivering beneath her, taking fast breaths through his mouth as he looked her in the eyes. The poor baby couldn’t stay quiet for the life of him, either. His whimpers and groans were unrelenting, so she was bound to muffle him once more.

His now-free hand joined hers over his mouth, but it didn’t linger there for long since he took hold of her wrist and started guiding it downward. “My neck,” He pleaded lowly, his voice trembling. “…want your hand on my neck.”

She gave him a devilish smirk before grabbing his throat. She only needed to hold him still; there was no need to squeeze or do anything else. “And I want your cum,” she told him, hoping that slipping in a few dirty words in combination with her movements would make him snap. “…want to get all wet from it.”

Harry’s legs jerked beneath her. “Close,” He warned, a little startled. “So, so close…” The fact that she could not only hear him but also feel his words on his throat as he spoke was incredibly arousing. “Please…” He pled sweetly, what triggered a sudden desire in Y/N's chest to be closer. She released her hold on his throat and hugged him tight as she drove her hips into his, rutting violently to make him orgasm.

It worked.

Between her thighs, Y/N could feel his warm juices seeping through the material of their pajamas. So she kept rutting, wanting to make sure she had extracted every last drop of them.

Harry returned her tight hug all the way through his climax, and he didn’t let go after either. They remained in that position for a while, holding each other close regardless of the slightly unpleasant wetness that was binding them together. “We should probably change right?” Y/N asked after a beat, despite her lack of want to wrest away from him.

“M-hm. I’m all gross and sticky.” Harry laughed. “I’m gonna need another shower in the morning, but for now, I think I'll just wipe it off and put on new boxers. I mean if you don't mind that I don't wear pants to bed…”

“No, I don't mind. I'm gonna take mine off too.”

“Oh. That's a great idea. Sounds perfect to me.” Harry playfully quipped, before he got out of bed and started opening drawers. “Also, um… I don't know how to ask without being weird, but could you close your eyes for a moment? so I can take care of myself real quick?” Y/N said yes and turned away to give him privacy while he cleaned himself and changed. She was a tiny bit surprised that he hadn't wanted to use the restroom for that, but she figured that since it was closer to his grandparents' bedroom at the end of the corridor, he probably didn't want to risk going and waking them up. “Okay… you can look now.”

When Y/N looked at him next, the first thing she noticed was that he had on a pair of tight, black boxers. The next thing she noticed was that Harry was looking at her legs, since, as he’d probably seen when he turned, she had also stripped off her pants in the interim, leaving just her grey panties on. “What?” He smiled in response to her curious gaze.

She wouldn’t bring it up, but she could see he had grown a little hard in his boxers just from seeing her sprawled in bed with no pants on. “Nothing, you’re cute.”

Harry snorted at that. “Thanks, but you're much cuter.” He wandered across the room to where the supermarket bags were. “Are you thirsty? Do you want water or a snack? ”

“Hmm, just water if that’s okay.”

Harry handed her the water bottle and sat down on the bed next to her while she drank from it. “You didn’t cum…” he pointed out after a moment of pause.

“Oh um… yeah. I didn’t. It’s okay though.” Y/N laughed, shrugged, and took another sip of her water.

“Hmm.” Harry hummed, before scooting a little closer to her. “It must be a bit of an unpleasant feeling, no? and hard to sleep like that.”

“It is a little until it goes away but nothing that I can't handle.”

“Hm.” He hummed again, before Y/N cocked her head to kiss his lips. She’d only meant to give him a peck, but Harry changed her plans when he leaned in to kiss her deeper. He seemed really eager to continue kissing and well, she wasn't about to say no to him. Especially when he went so far as to nibble on her lip, which he hadn’t done before. He was also getting handsy with her, and she loved it. He was touching her more and focusing on the spots he'd learned she liked.

“That,” She blurted, as she paused to catch her breath. “That feels really nice.”

“M-hm.” He murmured against her lips as he kissed her again. His hand continued to grab at her as they kissed, to the point where Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She hadn’t meant to but ended up moving her knees apart out of desperation. Being so blatant almost made her feel ashamed, but she didn't because she felt Harry's palm wrap over her crotch. In response to his touch, she moaned into his mouth, and he moaned back, surprised at how her moisture had soaked through her panties. “Teach me.” He asked, softly. “I want to learn. I- um, want to make you go to sleep happy.”

“That’s so nice, Harry, really. I, um-” She smiled while wiping the tears forming in her eyes. “I’m already happy.” She didn’t know what was making her so overwhelmed with joy all of sudden. She’d always known Harry was boyfriend material, but it was still nice to see how much he gave thought to her needs and happiness. And she was happy. So, so happy to finally have him like this, all to herself. “Do you want me to show you how to touch?”

“Yes please. To make you feel good.”

“Okay.” She placed her hand on top of his. “Here,” she explained once she’d guided his fingers to the spot of her panties right above her clit. “Circular motions with your fingers feel really nice, so does pressure. You don't have to focus on just that spot though… the nicest feeling is when you rub there but also all over.” She glanced at him, then bit her lip and asked, “Wanna try?”

“Yeah, alright.” Harry responded, adjusting his position slightly so that Y/N could get more comfortable. They decided to have her sit between his legs, facing away from him since that would make it easier for her to lead him. Once they’d both settled, Harry began to touch her in the way she had showed him, moving his hand broadly enough to reach a little bit everywhere in between her legs. “Am I doing it right?”

“Mm-hmm, you're doing really good.” Y/N was still holding his hand while he touched her, and she was fascinated by the size difference between their hands. “Your hands are really big, which... makes it feel extra good.”

“Really? That’s nice. I'm definitely grateful for that.” He said while looking down as well. “Should I put more pressure, or is it okay as it is?”

“It’s fine but I wouldn’t mind a little more...” She could tell he was afraid of hurting her, and that’s why he was being so careful and gentle in his touching. She wasn’t planning on rushing him or constantly give him directions though, so instead she simply relaxed against his chest and let him probe at his own pace. Because, after all, even though he was playing safe, she was still thoroughly enjoying herself.

It took Harry a few minutes to figure out how much pressure and speed he should be using, but eventually he pressed and swirled his fingers around her sensitive nub in a way that felt just right. When Y/N’s breath faltered he glanced at her worriedly, what made her chuckle. “No, don't worry. You didn't hurt me. Keep going like that.”

Harry smiled at that. He’d had a feeling he was starting to get the hang of it due to the way Y/N’s breathing had become more erratic and she'd begun to quiver against him on occasion but hearing it from her mouth that he was doing a good job was much, much better. He was really looking forward to making her cum. She looked so good like this, flushed and a little out of breath. She'd been staring at his face a lot from over her shoulder in the last couple of minutes, biting her lip and letting out little gasps of pleasure to let him know he was making her feel good.

“Like that. Don’t stop.” Those quiet, whispered words snapped him out of his reverie. He knew what they meant, even before she told him, “I’m really, really close.”

He'd learnt from a meme he saw once that when girls said that, boys weren't meant to speed up or change what they were doing in the slightest. So he merely focused on adding a bit more pressure, since that was something he knew she liked, and trying to keep his hand's tempo.

Despite how hot he found it, Harry wasn't very comfortable with dirty talk, but seeing her like this and recalling the perfect, filthy words she'd said to him just before making him cum, he felt compelled to give it a shot. “I can feel how wet your panties are, it’s so hot.” He whispered into her hair. “I can smell it too and it makes me want to eat you so bad. I've never done it before, but I can't stop thinking about doing it to you.” Rather than trying to sound hot, he was simply stating facts about how she was making him feel, and somehow it was working. “I wanna make you cum like this first though. From rubbing it this way, like you taught me to.”

Harry's words, paired with the precise movements of his fingertips around her pussy got Y/N right at the edge. She trembled, clutched his wrist, and strained to keep her legs open.

“Please, please, please...” She started begging out loud right before the warm pleasure bubble on her belly popped, so Harry did the same thing she’d done to him and muffled her by putting his free hand over her mouth.

He hadn't anticipated being able to feel when a girl orgasmed, but he was. He could feel the strong pulse under his fingers as soon as Y/N started to cum, and it was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced. He could also feel the damp spot on her panties becoming even wetter as he rubbed her through it and God, the smell… it was making his mouth water.

If she didn’t look so exhausted, Harry would have begged her to let him take off her panties and lick her clean, but those puffy, glossy eyes didn't permit his mind to stray any further. If there was one thing Harry understood about Y/N, it was how she looked just before falling asleep, and that was exactly how she was getting.

So he helped her into bed and laid down beside her, but his heart wouldn't let him fall asleep before he asked, “You’re staying for the entire weekend, right?” and his ears picked up a faint “M-hm” in return.

This was going to be the best weekend ever.

**

[matchavellichor]

Hi, I hope your day is going well when you read this!! I know you said you were currently taking a slight break from writing due to school, and first of all, I'm wishing you the very best of your studies! But I thought I would send a request just in case you do resume writing fics in the future, but feel free to ignore this! This seems a bit plain, but I was wondering if you could write an ominis x fmc where mc is terribly shy and avoidant to no one but ominis due to her feelings for him? Over time, though, Ominis observes her personality when interacting with other people, becoming fond of her but is left conflicted seeing how nervous she is around him, leaving him to wonder if she hates him or not. Since Ominis can’t see MC staring at him or how her cheeks go red around him, we could perhaps have Sebastian take note of this and act like the typical tease-playing wingman to set Ominis and MC up? It’s a pretty fluffy request, but you can lead it down any road you want, whether it turns out suggestively or not.

A/N: hi!!! tysm for the kindness <3 uni is still kind of hectic at the moment unfort, but i LOVED this idea sm so i decided to write a lil something anyway. ty for the request, hope you enjoy!

Great Expectations

Ominis x f!MC - Fluff - 3k words

Summary: Urged on by Sebastian's insistence that the reason for MC's evasiveness is that she harbors a secret crush, Ominis decides to take Sebastian's advice and find this out for himself.

Tags: Miscommunication, Wingman Sebastian, Clueless Ominis, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Banter, First Kiss

"Some light reading?"

Ominis can sense the way she startles, nearly dropping the tall stack of books balanced carefully in her arms.

“Oh, uh…hello, Ominis,” she greets as she rights herself, voice oddly tight. “I hadn’t realized you were here.”

“Always am. The library’s practically my second home at this point,” he smiles warmly, making some attempt at small talk.

There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat to break the silence. “I uh, I hadn’t realized you were such an avid reader yourself,” he tilts his head, waving his wand over the topmost title in her pile. “Ah, and you have taste! Dickens is brilliant. I’d love to pick your brain sometime about—”

“I apologize, if—you’ll um, if you’ll excuse me,” she suddenly interrupts, eyes trained at her feet, before she’s brushing past him in the tight corridor of shelves and exiting towards one of the more populated corners of the library.

Ominis frowns, brows knitting together in confusion and what’s beginning to morph into genuine offense at this point.

“Was it something I said?” he mutters under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ever since they had become acquaintances, any attempts at amicability on his part had been met with brisk dismissals, curt replies, and her avoiding him like the plague. At first he thought her simply timid, but after observing her behavior with the likes of Sebastian or Garreth or any of her other friends, Ominis had been seriously considering some innate character flaw of his own.

He had thought he had made some progress in their relationship at the last gathering they had frequented, a weekend get-together in the Slytherin common room, but it was quickly becoming apparent that he’d been sorely mistaken.

Was he really so unapproachable? Dreadfully unlikeable? Did she simply have no interest in befriending him?

Ominis tries to pretend his ego isn't bruised by this notion, but fails miserably when his brain wanders to more woeful reasons as to why she would want nothing to do with him. His family’s notoriety and the rumors surrounding his person that are frequently pedaled around the castle undoubtedly have already reached her ears.

Filled with a strange sense of defeat, Ominis abandons any of his original plans of reading in favor of sulking in the common room alone. Less than two steps towards the library exit, however, and he’s bombarded by Sebastian.

“Ominis, you sly dog, don’t think I didn’t see you two warming up in the back shelves,” he grins, poking his friend in the ribs and waggling his brows.

Ominis frowns, swatting at the brunette’s hand. “Warming up is certainly not the term I would use. She despises me.”

“Despises you? Are you blind?”

“...Yes?”

“I refuse to believe you’re that blind,” Sebastian amends, scoffing. “Don’t tell me you really haven’t noticed.”

“Noticed what? The way she can’t bear to spend longer than a minute around me?” Ominis grumbles. “Trust me, I’m well aware.”

“Oh Gods, you’re just as hopeless as she is,” Sebastian groans, deeply pained. “She doesn’t despise you, she’s head over heels, Ominis,” he leans in with an all-too smug tone. “Take it from a man who knows the ladies.”

Ominis turns his head over his shoulder as if in search. “And, pray tell, where is this man?”

He receives an indignant smack on the arm. “I’m serious! Trust me, it’s obvious to anyone with eyes. I mean, why do you think she’s always so nervous around you?”

“She probably thinks I’m going to curse her or something,” Ominis mutters. “My reputation isn’t exactly the nicest, Sebastian. Are you forgetting who my family is?”

Sebastian barks out a laugh. “I’m sorry, Ominis, but anyone who takes even a second out of their day to speak to you will know you’re incapable of harming a lacewing fly. Trust me on this, she likes you.”

Ominis pauses for a moment, considering the possibility that had never before crossed his mind before. An involuntary warmth spreads over his skin, surfacing all kinds of unbidden feelings he doesn’t have much experience in handling. Noticing his contemplative silence, Sebastian peeks at the blonde.

“Oh, Salazar, you’re blushing,” he gasps, no small amount of delight seeping through his tone. “You know, for a while I was half-convinced you were incapable of it. Me and Garreth actually had a bet that were half-vamp—”

Ominis scowls, pushing Sebastian’s fingers away from where they were currently trying to prod at his flushed cheeks. “I am not blushing. Look, this whole notion is ridiculous, even for you, Sebastian. She can barely tolerate me, much less harbor some crush on me.”

“Fine,” Sebastian shrugs, feigning acquiescence. “Then flirt with her. See what happens, and if she truly despises you as you say, then no harm, no foul.”

Ominis sputters. “I will not flirt with her, don’t be absurd.”

“Why not? If you already believe she hates you, what do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? My already maimed ego? You’ve seen her in Defence against the Dark Arts, if we’re being realistic I’m probably in risk of breaking a couple bones as well—”

“Ominis, just try,” Sebastian groans, looking ready to rip his hair out. “If you don’t, I’m marching right back into that library and flirting with her for you.”

Immediately, memories of Sebastian’s past trysts with women and the sheer amount of crudeness in even his most tame chat-up lines come to mind. Ominis panics. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, we both know I would,” Sebastian grins, stopping in his tracks and turning back towards the library doors. “Remember that one boiling cauldron line Garreth taught me? I’ll go up and tell her you begged me to use it for you—”

“Stop, stop, alright,” Ominis grits, fisting a hand in the back of Sebastian’s robes to pull him back. He sighs. “I’ll….I’ll speak to her, alright?”

Sebastian claps a hand over his shoulder, pleased. “That’s the spirit.”

//

As much as Ominis would have liked to postpone the inevitable as much as possible, fate was not on his side. He had the misfortune of running into her while on his way to the Great Hall for dinner, and with Sebastian by his side, he would have no chance of escape.

After urging his friend on with not so friendly threats, Sebastian made himself scarce, though undoubtedly somewhere within earshot so he could listen to disaster unfold.

“Just the person I was looking for,” he greets with as much warmth as he can manage, though his nerves are broiling a storm in his gut. “Have you gotten in any good reading today?”

Once again, she seems startled by his presence. “You were…looking for me?”

“Well, yes. I was wondering if I might accompany you to dinner?” he smiles. “Would give me a chance to bore you with my fascination with muggle literature.”

“Oh,” her eyes widen, looking almost excited before it’s washed over with anxiety. “I’m sorry, I uh, I wasn’t…going to dinner.”

“Oh,” Ominis frowns, noting how close they were to the Great Hall. “Where were you heading then?”

“The library,” she blurts out and Ominis tilts his head in confusion.

“But the library’s in the opposite direction,” he nods over his shoulder. “And haven’t you just come back from there?”

“I–I have to go,” she says, suddenly swiveling in the other direction and brushing past him. “Apologies.”

Once again, Ominis is left perplexed, and increasingly hurt. The only thing the interaction has done is given him a bigger headache, her behavior irrational in the face of Sebastian’s theory. Ominis finds himself even more convinced she hates his guts.

As if on cue, Sebastian ducks out from behind a tapestry shielding an alcove, an almost pained sort of grimace on his face.

“That was…bad.”

“Understatement of the year,” Ominis groans. “Do you see what I mean? She clearly doesn’t like me, Sebastian. All I’ve done is made a bigger fool of myself.”

“She’s nervous, Ominis. She was blushing the entire interaction. Look, maybe try being more direct? Girls like confidence! Tell her you will spend time with her and that you won’t take no for an answer.”

Ominis blinks at him. “Are you trying to get my bollocks hexed off?”

“While that would be deeply amusing, no,” Sebastian assures. “Look, she’s clearly just too shy to let herself spend time with you, that’s why she runs away. You can’t give her a way out, hell, incarcerous her if you have to.”

Ominis looks genuinely concerned for any women that have had the terrible misfortune of being the objects of Sebastian’s romantic interest. “How you’ve not found yourself in Azkaban yet amazes me.”

“Oh, shush,” he scowls before suddenly snapping his fingers, metaphorical lightbulb lighting up his face. “I’ve got it! Remember how Sharp gave her detention this weekend for sneaking ingredients for Garreth? Just muck something up tomorrow in Potions, and done! She’ll be forced to spend a whole evening with you.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

“It’s brilliant,” Sebastian grins, far too proud of himself. “Everyone knows detention is the best place to snog.”

Ominis chokes. “There will be no snogging—”

“Oh, got bigger plans in mind, have you? Ominis, you dirty little devil—”

The tips of his ears burning bright-red, Ominis pushes through the entrance doors to the Great Hall before Sebastian can get another word in, thanking Merlin she’d foregone dinner tonight.

//

While sprinkling some erumpent horn powder in Sharp’s cauldron during a practical demonstration was easier than he’d thought, actually having to go to detention the upcoming Saturday evening was not.

Pacing his dorm room anxiously while he counts down the hours until he has to make his way down to the Potions classroom, Ominis can’t help but be besmirched by his own stupidity at how he inevitably let Sebastian talk him into this.

Like the devil, Sebastian pokes his head through the door, not even bothering to knock. He plops himself down on one of the beds, eyeing the blonde with poorly-concealed bewilderment. “What are you so strung up for?”

“Not helping,” he glowers. “What if she runs away again?”

“Relax, would you?” Sebastian rolls his eyes, standing to walk over and muss the blonde’s hair. Ominis scowls and swats at his friend, but Sebastian is nothing if not stubborn, pulling at Ominis’ neatly folded uniform tie until it drapes messily around his neck.

“Perfect,” he grins, standing back to examine his work.

Ominis frowns, attempting with great futility to smooth his hair back into place. “I look like a delinquent.”

“How would you know?” Sebastian raises a brow. “You look great. Girls like a bit of a bad boy, you know. And after your stunt in Sharp’s class you’re certainly starting to build a reputation.”

“You were the one who told me to do it!”

“I told you to get yourself detention, not cause a minor explosion.”

Waving a wand over his wristwatch to check the time, Ominis’ pulse doubles when he realizes he has to be in Sharp’s classroom in a few minutes.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Sebastian is dragging him out the door, blabbering terrible advice as if he’s sending his friend off to a first date and not detention with a grouchy Potions master.

“—And most importantly of all, compliment her, Ominis. I know you’re not very expressive, but for the love of Merlin, tell her she looks nice,” he practically shoves the blonde through the common room door, adding a final, “have fun! Use the contraceptive charm!”

Ominis is promptly left alone in the dimly-lit corridor, a heat involuntarily rising to his cheeks, praying some greater force will strike him down before he has to humiliate himself any further.

//

The classroom is empty when he finally arrives a few minutes behind schedule, except for where he inevitably finds her scrubbing cauldrons in the back of the room. She tenses when he approaches, but doesn’t startle when he greets her this time. Ominis wonders if he can put it down as progress.

“Sharp asked me to tell you we’re not allowed to use magic,” she nods towards the stack of cauldrons perched on the workspace. “And, um that we’re only to bother him if someone’s bleeding, dying, or dead.”

Ominis nods, pointedly taking the space beside her and dragging one of the soot-covered cauldrons towards him to begin working.

There’s a tension between them that Ominis can’t ignore for the life of him, only the sound of scrubbing to cut through the painstaking silence. After a few unbearable moments, he clears his throat, remembering Sebastian’s advice.

“You look nice tonight,” he attempts, though his voice sounds oddly thick with nerves.

The sound of scrubbing stops. “Sorry?”

“I said you uh, you look very nice,” he attempts with more firmness, though his hands are white-knuckled around the edge of the table to stop himself from bolting from the mortification.

“Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“What?” he asks perplexed, forgetting momentarily a crucial reason as to why the compliment would seem absurd coming from him. “Oh dear Merlin, no, no that’s not how I meant it all.”

“Very funny, Ominis,” she takes in a sharp breath, dropping the brush with a dull clatter into the cauldron before she crosses her arms and faces him, all timidness suddenly replaced by a glaring frustration in her tone. Ominis isn't sure if it's an improvement, but at least she’s talking to him. “Did Sebastian put you up to this?”

“Sebastian? What? Of course not,” he sputters, desperately trying to amend. “I— Look, I’m—I’m sorry. Can I start over? Please?”

She raises an expectant eyebrow.

“You don’t look nice,” he tries, trying to suppress the wince that washes over his features. His only consolance is that Sebastian isn’t here to witness any of it. “I’m sorry, no—that’s not—I meant, I’m sure you do look nice, not that I would…know, but,” he runs a hand over his face, certain that if she didn't hate him before, she certainly does now. “I meant, you smell very nice. That I can tell, you…you smell very lovely, actually.”

There’s a long pause where she simply stares at him before her frustration inevitably only seems to double. “Is this what you find entertaining?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re taunting me,” she seethes. “You obviously know what I feel for you and now you’re making fun of me for it, aren’t you? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“What? Salazar, no, that’s not it at all—”

“Truly hilarious,” she scoffs, shaking her head. “Very mature. Maybe try being more subtle—”

“That’s not what I’m—”

“You can stop pretending you want to hang out with me all the time now—”

“Will you listen? I’m not—”

“Next time, if you don’t feel the same way, then simply—hmpph!”

Despite the blaring alarm bells that should be going off in Ominis’ head for doing something so painfully impulsive to someone who could hex his entire bloodline in the time it takes her to take out her wand, his mind blanks out into a puddle of warmth as he crashes his lips to hers.

She freezes, mouth unmoving against his in the time it takes awareness to seep into her brain and for her to realize he’s kissing her.

To his relief, when the realization does set in, she kisses him back.

She seems to melt just as much as Ominis, her body instinctively leaning into his, hands going slack at her sides before they instinctively come to hold at his forearms where he’s cradling her face so she can’t pull away.

Ominis pulls him towards her, and then, urged on by some coiling heat inside of him he’s admittedly not too familiar with, he crowds her against the workspace. He nearly topples over several cauldrons in his franticness to deepen the kiss, muttering sheepish apologies through heavy breaths, but he’s far too consumed to feel embarrassed.

His lips on hers are clumsy and impatient, and maybe far too hungry for a first kiss, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her hands come up to thread through his hair, to drag down his scalp, and Ominis couldn’t stop the groan that leaves him if he had all the composure in the world.

He’s so far gone he doesn’t even care about all the soot they’re getting on each other, too preoccupied with trying to keep his knees from buckling, to press his body even more against hers as if it’s the greatest offense known to history that they’re not physically molded to one another. When he slots a thigh between her legs and she lets out a little noise against his mouth, he thinks he might just collapse.

Ominis skin feels hot to the touch, nerves prickling with want, with the urge to touch and taste and grind until he goes numb. She finally breaks the kiss, panting heavily against his mouth, eyes glazed over with just as much raw need. Though the loss is almost physically painful, Ominis is grateful for small mercies, because he was a few seconds away from tearing through her uniform top.

“You’re…” she swallows, trying to clear the breathlessness from her voice. “Uh, very committed to the bit, I suppose.”

Ominis can’t help the laugh that escapes him.

His shoulders shake, forehead dropping to meet hers, and when he glances back up he smiles, lips still raw and undoubtedly kiss-bruised. She returns his grin, until he can feel her smile against his mouth when he leans down to press his lips to hers again, because he simply can’t help himself.

They barely register the sound of the door to the professor’s office swinging open. Only when he clears his throat do they finally tear apart, and Ominis wonders if it’s possible to drop dead from sheer mortification.

Sharp lets out a long-suffering sigh, as if he’s accustomed to walking in on much, much worse by now and his hardly fazed.

“Just get the cauldrons clean,” he grumbles, grabbing a few texts on one of the adjacent tables. He hobbles back to the door, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. “Bloody teenagers and hormones, don’t get paid enough for this shit…”

He ducks his head out before closing the door, pointing a stern finger in their direction. “And not on my tables.”

[inkblot22]

What's Worse?

I finally finished this. This unpostable thing. It's done and even if it's bad, I do not care. In the end, it ended up being 4k words and I'm okay with this. Header by @/cafekitsune

Who is this fic for? I tried to keep this one very neutral despite the many references to body parts, so anyone who can handle it is free to read! Keep in mind that pronouns such as you and they are used to refer to the reader. The reader is human and does have hair.

TW for coercion, noncon, dubcon, allusions to a physically and emotionally abusive dynamic, captivity, everyone is at least a little bit untrustworthy in this, mentions of the smell of blood, beastman-specific oddities and anatomy, violent and morbid similes. Just in case, I'd like to say that this is DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT. A lot of the stuff is more so implied than explicitly stated, but it's still there.

The day he moved up a grade and began his “internship” is the same day he took you with him. Sure, Grim came along, but you’re often so busy, or he’s often so busy, either way. So you haven’t seen your familiar in months, and your life is filled with Leona.

You don’t know why he did this, but the first night you were there, he tapped your uvula with his fingers as he orally serviced you so feverishly that you left teeth indent bruises on his knuckles from biting down so hard as you tried not to be loud. He wore them like jewelry, and you know his brother saw them. Everyone at the table knew what happened, because, according to Leona, no matter how often you shower, the way you smell will always give you away.

That was a little over six months ago. As far as captivity goes, it’s rather cushy. You stay within the confines of the Afterglow Savannah’s palace. Sometimes Leona gets a bit aggressive and you take it, but you’re fed, clothed, and possibly pampered. It could be worse. It could be far worse. You could be in the dungeons. 

You actually don’t know if this place has a dungeon, come to think of it. The last time you asked Leona, he asked you if there was an issue with the room you shared with him. When you tried to explain why you asked, he called you a “dumb herbivore” in a very fond tone of voice, then fell asleep. You didn’t try asking again.

It didn’t stop you from wandering. As it turns out, the Afterglow is mostly populated by beastmen… beastpeople? Aren’t all people beasts? Whatever, the point is, you’re basically the only person in the palace with muted senses. You often think back to Rook, wondering how he trained himself to use his senses so well. You tried to practice once, but Leona caught you hiding a  ball and chucked the thing out the window, telling you to find something better to do with your “skills.” You sure used one of your senses, at least.

Unfortunately, these “muted” senses, despite them being completely sensible for your human state of being, have led to some issues. For instance, when someone approaches you, you don’t notice until they’re within your field of awareness. Beyond that, according to Leona, Farena, Cheka, and Farena’s wife, you also tend to just reek of blood.

You have no idea why, and you’ve never noticed this before. You get out of the shower, having scrubbed hard enough to rid yourself of any dirt but not enough to create micro-abrasions on your skin, and Leona still complains about it. You play fight with Cheka, gentle enough that neither of you gets harmed and he’s giggly, and he pauses his mirth and wrinkles his little nose before asking if you got hurt. Zuri, Farena’s wife, regularly would stop you whenever she saw you, her eyes wide as she asked you if everything was okay. The palace staff didn’t say anything, but they’d constantly be re-filling your first-aid kit, one that was “gifted” to you and one that the staff and Kifaji (despite him being human like you, or maybe just not obviously a beastman) insisted that you carry at all times.

But out of all of them, Farena was the worst. If you were in Cheka’s nursery, even just seconds after the kid fell asleep, Farena would pop out of nowhere. If you lingered a bit too long in the kitchen or hallways, anywhere too far from Leona’s wing, he’d approach with a smile, his arms spread wide. If you came to the dining hall without Leona’ his glowing brown eyes would find you, the intensity akin to a sudden knife wound. His persistence in being around you was all blanketed by his uncomfortable implications when he spoke to you.

Even so, you happened to somehow get lost. The hallways are sort of color-coded, but you’ve passed this same hallway several times, enough for you to be okay with admitting that you’ve been walking in a circle for the past twenty minutes. And, much like the devil, as soon as you thought that if you were there any longer, a certain lion-man would appear, Farena popped up and scooped you into a hearty hug as greeting, your feet coming off the floor.

“Leona’s partner!” He never calls you by name. It’s always just that. You are Leona’s partner, not your own person, you guess, “I knew I’d find you eventually.”

“Yes. Hello, your highness.” You wheezed as he placed you back on the floor.

“Oh, you’re so prickly, just like my baby brother. You two are a perfect match- he does like a bit of bite.”

You rarely knew how to respond to him, so you often didn’t. You just stared at him, like a total moron, but he continued talking like you aren’t giving him the most anserine of looks- a word he has used to describe you before, basically to your face.

“I’ve heard that you forgot your first aid kit. We don’t need you tripping and scratching yourself on Leona’s dresser again, and not with an inability to heal yourself.” He never gave you time to answer, “Of course, I know you aren’t magic, but those of you without it have made some wonderful inventions to make up for that.”

“Oh. Yeah, I just left for, like, two seconds so I could return something to the kitchen.”

He nodded, thoughtful, still smiling, “Well, did you hit your head? You’ve been walking in a circle, and you didn’t even stop to say hi to me.”

“No. I, uh.” You cast your gaze down the hallway closest to you, then looked back at Farena, “I am a bit lost. I guess someone else is usually with me when I’m wandering around.”

Leona is not the only person in his family with a cunning streak. You are marginally aware of this, and when Farena’s eyes narrowed, you sucked in a breath.

“Hmm. You’re right, Leona’s partner. It is rather strange not to see you by my baby brother’s side.”

It struck you multiple times in the past that the amount of times you bumped into Farena couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. He’s a king, so why was he never ruling or whatever kings did all day? It was incredibly strange, and you made the same subtle discomforted motions like clockwork. He usually pretended not to notice whatsoever.

His grin was always too bright. You did prefer Leona’s smirk, “Very well. It looks like I’ll need to escort you back to Leona’s quarters, won’t I?”

“Uh. I mean, if you’re not busy.”

“You’re such a mousy thing. Come,” He offered you his arm.

You took it, and true to his word, he led you back to Leona’s wing, then straight up to the door. He knocked, and you ducked out of his arm to cautiously open the door. Leona strolled out of the bathroom, hair and skin wet, his eyes not even skimming over you before they flashed to his brother, who strolled in as though he owned the place. Maybe he did. Who owns a palace if not the king?

“Ah, Leona! I found your partner, wandering the halls like a lost lamb.”

As soon as the words process in Leona’s mind, his green eyes are sliding to pin you down. Your limbs feel like lead, and you don’t move or emote, lest he strike. He’s like a snake when he’s like this, which is ironic. Perhaps it’s not ironic, and just comedic. Who knows?

Regardless, Farena keeps talking, “And I missed you at lunch! What a shame. They had your favorite, you know. Meat! And lots of it. Don’t you ever get hungry, being in here all the time?”

If not for everyone talking about the way your skin smells, that comment could have been written off entirely. It didn’t feel great, being indirectly told that you smell like fresh meat, and Leona wasn’t helping much.

“Mmm. No. I don’t like my meat that rare.” Leona grumbles, taking a seat on his bed and waving you over. “Hey, c’mere and braid my hair.”

What was worse? Being told you smell delicious or being told you didn’t smell delicious enough? It was one of those things. You cautiously tied off his braids, capping both of them in beads that Cheka had gifted you. His hair was wet, clinging to his skin as desperately as the water did. You caught yourself watching a drop sliding over Leona’s tattoo and hummed softly. 

Farena was still talking. You didn’t hear the beginning, and you didn’t care about the end, so you completely tuned him out so you could finger detangle the rest of Leona’s wet hair. While you were ignoring Farena, you were pointedly all too aware of Leona’s sounds of pleasure. It took you a while to get used to it. You were a primate, and he was a lion. More lion than ape. He snorted and rumbled, huffed and chuffed, his face twisted in a scowl. 

“Ah, what a shame. I’ll have to speak to you later, Leona. Perhaps you could talk about those plans with Zuri. I’m sure she’d love to listen.” You tuned back in as Farena turned to the door, opening it before remembering himself and waving at you, “Bye bye, Leona’s partner!”

When he was gone, almost as soon as the door was closed, Leona twisted his torso to grab you around the waist and pull you into one of his kisses. You read somewhere that the reason men kiss so… wetly is so they can mark their partner. It makes more sense if they just didn’t want to kiss with dry lips, but you’re no kissing expert. Leona is not an exception to this, you supposed. He always licked his lips before pressing them against yours, slicked with his saliva and often accompanied by a quiet, barely perceptible growl. 

His kisses were dizzying. Possibly because it was difficult to breathe while kissing someone, and possibly because you were usually held in a crushing vice whenever he kissed you. Your poor ribcage had been squeezed many times. 

And just as soon as it started, he dropped you unceremoniously and stood up, walking past your sprawled body on his floor, “We’ve got some big dinner to get to. Get dressed.”

You scrambled to your feet, “Big dinner?”

“Mhm. It’s some official’s birthday. I can’t be bothered to remember who.”

That made enough sense. In the time you’d been here, you’d learned pretty quickly that it wasn’t exactly worth it to go out of your way to be remembered positively by everyone, especially not since you were… with Leona. In all the time you’d been here, you’d never been sure about what the nature of your relationship with him was, either. Asking would get you some kind of snarky or irritated answer, and not asking but thinking about it made it hard to focus on anything else, so you didn’t think about it.

“Oh. You see Grim today?” You asked while getting dressed in your own green and black dashiki, like a couple’s outfit in the matching pattern of Leona’s.

Like he always did, he stared for a moment before making a few small adjustments. It was funny, he couldn’t be bothered to care about his own appearance, and yet, when it came to you…

“Yeah, He’s good. Still working on the mage stuff.”

“Mmm. Okay. Thanks.” You mumbled, lifting your arms so Leona could look you over again, “What?”

“You stink like my brother. If we had time, I’d fix that, but…”

“What does he smell like?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking what I smell like?” He snapped, and you flinched. Sometimes his irritation came with physical indications, but heavier than the physical indications was the energy around him, “Forget it. Stay close to me tonight.”

You usually did. You hated parties here, but more than the parties themselves, you hated the strangers who came up to you and just said whatever. Last time, someone approached you and asked how big Leona’s wallet was for you to stick around. You’re learning to like nobility less, not that you particularly liked them before..

You’re tucked against Leona’s back for the entirety of the evening. He’s like a ward. People see him and walk the opposite direction unless they’re drunk or stupid, and those types are in short supply at the beginning of the night. Unfortunately, by the middle of the night, amongst sips of his drinks and nibbles of various finger foods, you felt exhausted and Leona was straight up pissed.

You wondered why for a bit too long. You barely even realized when you ended up back in his room, outside on his balcony. He was stewing, pouting like a toddler. You unstuck yourself from his side and sat in one of the chairs.

“Mmm.” He grumbled. He often did this, putting a noise to his emotion, but no words to explain himself. You’d wised up and figured out early on that it was best not to approach him for this type of thing, “Hey, runt.”

Uh oh. He tended to use that nickname before he did something foul to you. You squirmed in your chair and flinched as he turned around and yanked his shirt over his head. His pants went next. Leona didn’t bother with underwear.

“C’mere. What are you hidin’ in the corner for?” He mumbles, “We’ve got time now.”

Your uh oh gets multiplied. It’s not that you aren’t attracted to Leona, or that you’re not in the mood. It’s not that you’re terrified of him, not that you’re confused by his awkward libido. It’s that you honestly don’t know what he sees in you, sprinkled with a bit of relationship insecurity. You’re here because of him, you and Grim have a home because of him, but what’s going to happen when he gets bored with you? 

He looks over his shoulder at you sharply, “What the hell are you doin’? I said c’mere.”

You swallowed and took a few steps forward, stripping as you walked. The night air makes your skin tingle with goosebumps, your nipples hardening and a shiver rattling through you. It’s a very strong possibility that these feelings have beset you based only on the fact that someone could look up from Zuri’s garden and see you and Leona, both naked on his balcony.

 When you’re standing in front of him, he just stares, one of his hands ever so gently stroking himself. You think it’s funny, the phrase “playing with yourself,” because that is what it is. His fingers softly paw at his heavy balls, gliding up the base of his shaft to tweak the head of his cock under his foreskin. He doesn’t break his gaze on you to look at himself. The hand that is not busy with himself reaches out to grab your waist, just above the start of your hip, and yank you closer.

He’s not gentle. Not really. You know he has the capacity to be gentle, but he doesn’t really seem to care. In the past, when you’ve pleaded with him to be gentle, he’s told you that he would treat you like glass if he thought you were made of it, but since he’s seen you suffer worse (what is worse?) he doesn’t see the point in bothering. That doesn’t change the fact that his touch often hurts. Now is not an exception, and you make your displeasure clear with a soft noise of discomfort.

“Shhh. You wanna tell me what happened earlier?” Leona mumbles, pressing his face against the skin on your stomach, taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh.

You absolutely hate it when he smells you like this, but that’s not important right now, “Wh-what?”

“With Farena. You looked freaked out.” Leona ever so lightly kisses the pit of your bellybutton, “He do anything to you?”

You’re not a fan of Leona acting like this. While it seems like he cares, you know from past experience that he’s typically, if not always, on the brink of a jealous meltdown. His jealous meltdowns almost always end with you sitting alone in the bathroom, tending to your own wounds as he sleeps like a kid who just threw a tantrum. So you decide to give a simple answer before distracting him, at least for a moment.

You scratch the nape of his neck, since he doesn’t like you touching his ears, “He was just his usual off-putting self. Nothing else.”

Leona grunts and looks up at you, so you take your chance. You lean down, sitting on your knees, and press a mock-reverent kiss to Leona’s thigh. He’s surprisingly hairless, for someone who is more lion than ape. You suppose the same could be said for yourself, as someone who is more ape than lion. 

Leona’s unimpressed face slants into a smirk, and his hand that was previously fondling his genitals slides to cup your cheek, fingertips rubbing behind your ear.

Now that it’s right in front of your face, you wish that you hadn’t decided that this was the best option for distraction. You think maybe anything would be better than catching those barbs in the back of your throat. The little softly-curved nubs circling the base of the head of Leona’s cock flare out a bit, resembling one of those Elizabethan ruffs, tattered by the passage of time and reduced to the skeleton. They aren’t sharp, not truly, but they’re uncomfortable, especially when you forget that the more worked up Leona gets, the further they poke out and the harsher they feel. It’s similar to someone’s very carefully blunted fingernail and fingertip rubbing against your cheeks.

You try to suck up your carefully hidden disgust and press a soft kiss to the very tip of Leona’s dick, wetting your lips with his salty pre. Surprisingly, he doesn’t taste bad. You would think that his skin, his cum, would taste bitter and harsh, but it’s not the worst thing you’ve ever tasted. Perhaps that’s a silver lining in this wicked situation.

Regardless, a quiet grumble from him makes you snap back into the reality of where you are, and you figure you may as well get to work. You slide your lips down to his base, wincing as the spongy head of his member punches the back of your throat and his hand slides back to grip your nape.

“You trying to bore me to death, runt? You know I hate this teasing shit.”

That’s right. He absolutely loathes it. You bob your head a little more expeditiously, trying to ignore the slick mixture of drool and pre that is escaping from the corners of your lips and the ever-increasing strength of Leona’s thrusts against your face.

Despite your senses being the most dull in the palace, you can sort of hear the festivities downstairs, and Leona chuckles, standing with your head still cradled in his hand so he can actually start thrusting. It always begins with you trying to set a gentle pace and it always quickly dissolves into chaos. He’s lazy, but if he’s anything more than lazy, it’s a shameless pleasure chaser. You would think that you would have learned by now.

“You can’t hear them. They’re not at all concerned with me, they’re wondering where you went off to. But everyone knows that you belong to me, so they should know that you’re with me.” Leona mumbles. 

You gag, his dickhead wetly popping against the back of your throat as the fluids in your mouth froth with the speed of his motions, gooey trails roping down to cling to your cheeks and collarbones, connecting to Leona’s shifting hips. At least he doesn’t stink today.

A bug lands on your shoulder and flits away as you choke on Leona as he shoves his cock down your throat. Maybe you should feel a bit more grateful that this is happening partially outside, and that way you can have constant reminders that you’re still alive and not in some form of purgatory, serving time for your very minor moments of humanity when you were alive. 

Leona snarls, “You’re just so cute, with those lips wrapped around me. I wonder if my brother would keep flirting with you if he knew that you were like this in private.”

The implications of that statement are absolutely lost on you. You’re aware that Leona knows how you feel about your current life to a degree, but he doesn’t give a damn about your emotions. Whatever he’s talking about is absolutely just him babbling out some sex-addled nonsense. As the barbs scrape against your uvula, you gag and try to push his hips away so you can catch your breath for a second.

He doesn’t let up. Sweat is sliding over his skin, beading into crystal pearls and sliding down to flavor the skin in your mouth with their salt. If you don’t puke from his roughness, you’re going to puke from ingesting so much sodium. His smirk grows and his fingers massage the base of your head as if he isn’t pounding into your throat.

“Aw… too much? Maybe if you were a bit more active, I’d be done a bit sooner.” He coos.

You don’t fully hate Leona. He has given you somewhere to stay, food to eat, clothes to wear, for both you and Grim, but whenever he gets like this, taunting you even though he’s using you like a cheap sleeve, you feel an indescribable, hopeless anger. Regardless, you bring one of your hands up to the copious amounts of drool and pre and sweat that are covering your skin, collecting the goop on your fingers. You cup his ass with your non-gooey hand and spread that cheek, plunging a finger into his asshole and aimlessly crooking your finger.

His hips spasm, his hand fists into your hair and he lets out a low grumble, “Rrr.”

You slowly ease your other gooey finger into his ass and hope that he will cum soon so you can catch your breath. You need a shower, and he’s probably going to just go to bed after this. You’re more tired than he is, and you’re actually beginning to think that you both might be a bit tipsy. You need this to end, and you need it to end soon.

Your prayers are answered. You feel his cock bob in the back of your throat, the glans tapping that soft spot that makes you feel it in the back of your nose, and he yanks your head back, your lips releasing him with a somewhat loud pop.

His cum is hotter than it has any right being. You suppose since he runs hot, it’s not that shocking, but you’re also aware that the whole reason that the balls are not an internal thing is because the human body is way too hot for sperm to live for long periods of time inside of the body. This information is irrelevant, however, because Leona has just made the mess on your skin that much worse. You sigh as he lets go of you, flopping back into his chair and gesturing to his cock again.

“Can you clean me up before you go running off?”

You’d love to tell him no, to ask him to shove it, but you grunt your acquiescence and tongue-clean his messy skin, as if you aren’t covered in more slime than he is. Once done, you stand up and gather your clothes, placing them in the laundry bin in the bathroom and getting in the shower.

You scrub a little harder than usual, but not hard enough to break skin, not even enough to create micro-abrasions. Once out, you throw on one of Leona’s gaudy yellow tees and take a seat on the bed. He’s already curled up under the covers, but the soft tapping of his tail lets you know that he isn’t sleeping. You slide under the covers yourself and Leona rolls over, pulling your back into his chest.

“Hey.” He mumbles into your hair, “You stink like a fresh kill.”

What’s worse? Smelling like blood in a den of predators or being in the den of predators to begin with?

[dootznbootz]

I'm not very fond of Epic AUs where Odysseus adopts Astyanax.

It's fine for a one-off joke or comic and ofc this is just my opinion but... if Astyanax lives (like in Racine's play), he should always stay with Andromache. His actual mother, yk. Not with one of the men who sacked Troy. Zeus' prophecy is bound to happen and Odysseus knew keeping the infant around was a bad idea.

If Astyanax dies, I want to see him in Elysium with his father, finally in a peaceful place and having all of eternity to catch up. Then Andromache joins them (sending her to Asphodel would be too cruel) and they finally reunite.

Would anyone picture Neoptolemus adopting Astyanax ? The son of Achilles, who dragged Hector's body in a chariot. No ? So Achilles' associate doing the same would be weird.

And Odysseus ? I want him CRAVING for a son, waiting for so long until he can express his paternal affection (and always cursing Palamedes even after his revenge 😂).

Him meeting Telemachus all grown up should be his first real shot at fatherhood. It'd be underwhelming if he already had a little boy with him. If Telemachus has a little brother, Penelope should be the mother. Or they adopt another baby together afterwards. No Astyanax and ESPECIALLY NO TELEGONUS !

So yeah, imo Astyanax and Odysseus don't belong with each other. Any thought ?

Headsup: This is just an opinion. My opinion does not matter. If you like this AU, PLEASE don't let that stop you from creating! Just because it's not for me, doesn't mean it's not for you or for someone else :D

I absolutely agree and you absolutely put into words WHY.

There's the term "woobifying" and in some cases...I think that's what people just often do with Epic/The Odyssey. (especially from Epic) I'm saying as someone who is a very soft and fluffy person. I love soft and sweet fics and ideas. I love stuff that makes me smile. But I almost feel as though with certain soft things, you're taking away what makes characters who they are. which DOESN'T make me smile lol

like I think there's more fun in simply a "no-war AU" than the "Astyanax lives AU" xD like, that way, Odysseus is with his family, gets to be a dad, Astyanax gets to live (let's not think too hard about how "no war may have meant no Astayanax")

As that way, they still get to be in character as well.

Penelope and Odysseus for example, are scallywags lol. They scheme and swindle. They giggle and kick their feet when they get extra cattle. They hold grudges. They can be snooty and prideful. They're as full of love as they are full of hate. Odysseus, during the Sack of Troy, in both the Odyssey AND Epic, will do whatever it takes to get home. Like yes, in Epic, Jay has it where Odysseus has to "become ruthless" but I can understand what he's doing with the narrative. Odyssey Odysseus? Um...Iphigenia is proof that Odysseus is already ruthless.

Btw, why is Astyanax the only one Odysseus would want to save with these AUs? What about Iphigenia? Is it because of Epic?

Yes, I DO think Odysseus (and Penelope for that matter) have a lot of parental instinct. I plan to write Odysseus carving lil wooden toys for random kids just as something to do. He does tricks. (ngl, while it seems they weren't around in the Mycenaean era, Yo-yos were a thing in ancient Greece. I just KNOW Odysseus would be the type to do so many tricks. (also string and wood🥹)) He has a soft spot for Greater Ajax's boy. My goober was friends with Menelaus and Agamemnon even before he met Penelope (he saw two exiled guys take back their kingdom and thought "hm??? vulnerable state??? They're very rich?? hehe >:3" but then became fond of them. The reason why he went to Sparta was to help Menelaus with Helen but fell in love himself.) and he's carved lil toys for Agamemnon's kids

He's carved lil Iphigenia toys. She likes Dolphins. He still helps sabotage the letter in some myths and even hypes up the crowd.

Even if it IS just based on Epic, "The Horse and The Infant" and "Just a Man" are HUGE turning points for Odysseus. Or even just a show of character. Like yes, "Odysseus is learning ruthlessness" but he already is ruthless. He literally says "I would trade the world to see my son and wife". AND HE STILL DOES THE DEED! HE WAS RUTHLESS SINCE THE BEGINNING! The Second song in the Musical and it already tells you about Odysseus and what he is willing to do. Is he sad and haunted? Yeah. Still did it.

And I really love that as that's Odyssey Odysseus as well! Odysseus isn't an unfeeling violent villain. He's just a man.

Also...What happens in the Odyssey is no fucking place for a child. ;~; The cyclops, the Goddesses, the monsters? Why should a lil boy be anywhere near that? How did he survive while drifting to Ogygia? Does Poseidon try to keep them together? As no one would be in the state to take care of each other together for that many days.

And in general, in the Odyssey, to me, it's such a huge thing that he literally lost EVERYONE. THAT HE IS ALL ALONE. All of the people who were with him are now dead, and there was nothing he could do. It was already fated.

It's horrible but there's something so poetic in him being the "Sole Survivor", especially after all the hell he went through.

Also yeah, I DO really hate the thought of Telemachus knowing "You took care of this baby when I needed you?". Like my OdyPen have a daughter after he returns as the whole "only one son" and that's already really hard for Telemachus to watch Odysseus be a father for her, regardless of how often and how adamantly Odysseus reassures him that Odysseus desperately wished to do the same with him.

[itsjustwincest]

I'm gonna need some fic recs from you. I just know you'll know the kinda wincest I need 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Hi, anon! Sorry it took so long for me to respond to this, I was filtering through all of my stuff to decide what I was going to recommend first. A lot of these are kind of classic ones to read. They've all gotten a lot of hits, and for a really good reason.

I'll post more recs in the future, especially hidden gems, and maybe a list of Dead Dove (like, the dove died, was resurrected, and died again) kind of content, because I have a lot of those to reccommend, too.

All of these are rated E. Most of the things I've bookmarked are, ngl, but if you want some T or below fics, I'd be happy to do a list of those, too!

First up is The Little Spoon by leonidaslion. This is an established relationship fic. It's 2k words and is the perfect mix of adorable and slightly smutty. To his horror, Sam discovers that he's a stealth!snuggler.

Next is, in my opinion, a Must Read. It's Couples Counseling by MsImpala67. It's a getting together fic, which I have a particular fondness for, especially those involving a fake relationship, like this one. What better way to investigate a marriage counselor (who may or may not be responsible for the death of six of her clients) than to go to marriage counseling? It's just pretend right? No different than putting on the FBI suits. Of course, nothing ever goes according to plan, and Sam and Dean quickly get more than they bargained for. It's 18k words over 10 chapters, and very worth the read.

Fragments by arclucifer666 is a one shot. The smell of sex is still in the air, and all these memories are making his cock swell up. And he hopes there will be one more round before his guest leaves. Don't open this one in public, there is a porny gif at the end. Little bt of fluff, luttle bit of soft sex. CW for somnophilia.

I don't often do AUs, but A Fire Ever Burning by BewareTheIdes15 is a fun read. It's based on the world of Pern, which you don't need to be familiar with to read. It is a dragon riding AU that kept me absolutely invested from beginning to end. It's 16 k words of charming for anyone with a love for the fantastical. Sam and Dean have always been oddities among the dragonriders; the youngest man to Impress a Bronze dragon in a hundred years and a boy who turned his back on the riders to become a dragon healer instead. But when fate steps in a chooses a far different path for Sam, the brothers and all the Weyrs of Pern will have to come to terms with much greater changes in their traditions.

I want to add a bajillion more, but I am going to limit myself to two. I'm realizing I have a lot of Sam/Dean/other, but I will do those on another list.

I have to throw an ABO and a case fic in, so I'll give you a twofer. Opus Amore by Skylee is all of my favorite tropes wrapped up in one. Sam and Dean go undercover at a couples retreat for Alphas and their Omegas to root out a monster. Dean hates being an Omega so the fact that he'll have to openly be one and stop taking his suppressants pisses him off. Still, the more they pretend to be a happy Omega and Alpha couple, the more he starts to think that maybe being an Omega isn't so bad, not if Sam is his Alpha. It's all of my favorite tropes. Hesitant Omega Dean, fake relationship, getting together, clever monster hunt. 31k words over 17 chapters and I'm ngl, I read this in one sitting.

Finally, last but certainly not least, The Truth In The Lie by flawedamythyst. It's another fake relationship case fic. The side characters are fun, the hunt is fun, it's just another all around awesome read. Sam and Dean pretend to be gay lovers while they hunt a monster on a bus tour of Nova Scotia.

There you have it. My first ever wincest fic recommendations. As I said before, all of these are well-loved on AO3, with good reason. I want to do more of these lists, especially if any of you have something specific you want to read.

[empressofthewind]

Hey there, Meronia fan! Do you mind if I ask for Meronia fics recs? And, do you have any fav ships (from any fandom) that the dynamics remind you of Mello/Near?

You can't imagine, how excited I am to find your blog. Let's just say in my older anime/manga group who love Death Note mostly ship Lawlight & Matt/Mello, anti Meronia and are Near haters. So when I said I love Meronia, some blocked me and said I was the weird one. So, I never said it again. But now, after I got out from that group I feel better. Then finding your blog with amazing Mello and Near's metas, I'm so happy! Thanks for your blog...

Thank you very much!!! I'm so happy to hear this :-) in my experience most people on Tumblr are pretty normal about Meronia, and it's SO easy to block/filter users who aren't.

Unfortunately re: ships with similar dynamics, I can't think of any off the top of my head, but I'll put this post in the ship tag; I'm sure someone else will have an answer!! In terms of fic recs, I've actually set up my bookmarks page on AO3 to function like a rec list. I have 36 fics there each with a little blurb and I'm constantly updating it, so hopefully a decent amount that you haven't read! I'll pick 10 of them to link here for easy access (ordered by rating in case you can't/don't want to read the mature ones):

the roof by @lightningblade | 3692 words | Rated T

This is a college AU focused on the development of Mello and Near's relationship through a series of encounters on a rooftop. The writing is GORGEOUS, the progression is masterfully done, and it removes the element of the rivalry without removing the core of what makes Meronia such a great ship! There's also a companion piece up as of yesterday which I'm still recovering from (very very positive).

Dear Mello by @tzviaariella | 4158 words | Rated T

This fic is written during the canon timeline through a series of emails. It's an AU where Mello survives, originally written for the 2023 Meronia Zine but also posted on AO3 (which is what I've linked here). The format is really creative and I'm OBSESSED with the way Mello and Near's dynamic is written. The petty back-and-forth is very entertaining and in-character, and there's a certain familiarity and fondness underlying it that I adore. There are also a few artworks throughout which is a nice treat!!

How to Get Any Guy to Fall in Love with You by Sick_head_Sweet_heart | 7025 words | Rated T

This one has such a late-2000s fandom classic feel to it that I'm surprised it's only a few years old??? It's set at Wammy's House, in which Matt gives Near advice on how to make Mello fall in love with him. The dynamic is insanely cute and I'm obsessed with the way Matt and Near's friendship is characterised here. Them scheming together is something I need more of in fics!!

The Mihael Factor by spiritcrimson | 16 chapters | Rated T

One of the longest completed works I've ever read for Meronia and I have been DYING to find something like this ever since. It's a talent agent x singer AU, and it's literally everything I could have asked for in a longfic. A unique idea, compelling progression and a fun antagonistic dynamic that blossoms into a really sweet romance. It's a slowburn but it doesn't drag on at all, and the ending is SO well worth the wait.

3 + 1 by @squidish | 2423 words | Rated T

x + 1 fics are a favourite trope of mine, as is the general concept of Mello and Near behaving inappropriately in the workplace, and this one combines both of those perfectly. The premise is 3 times Mello and Near got walked in on by one of the SPK members, and 1 time they were caught by the whole group. The writing is SO delightful and there are several lines in this that are permanently lodged in my brain. I find humour in writing immensely difficult to pull off so I'm always in awe of authors who can integrate it naturally, and squidish's writing is a great example of that! (Worth noting that this one is slightly more mature than the other T-rated fics here, so I've put it closer to the M & E section; however the smut scenes are not explicit)

it's friday, i'm in love by @neallo | 2676 words | Rated M

You could read literally anything by neallo and it's guaranteed to be good, but to keep this list short, I've included one angsty fic and one lighthearted fic so you can pick the vibe. This one is more lighthearted, and it depicts a very tender moment in which Mello shows up at Near's door drunk and dances with him in the kitchen. This is a prequel to a bigger AU focusing on a casual relationship between them, but it also holds up as a standalone fic! It's unbearably sweet and there are many lines in there that made me audibly laugh.

Speculation on Demisexual Sex Drive by SayHiDestery | 4069 words | Rated M

The smut scene in this fic is so intimate and perfect, I'm melting just thinking about it. It's an established relationship fic in which Near has PTSD and has certain struggles with intimacy, and Mello guides him through it. It's quite slow-paced and takes its time to linger on the small details, which I absolutely adore, and the writing itself is vivid and beautiful. It also features demisexual Near!!

Winning the Game by clearmain | 4134 words | Rated E

This one is a PWP set mid-canon, immediately after the raid on the SPK. I'm a huge sucker for bold & bratty Near and that's EXACTLY what this fic serves. The way this introduces elements of rivalry and competition into their relationship is excellent and makes this fic feel faithful to their canon dynamic. It's a compelling push-pull with an open but hopeful ending that very succinctly captures the complexities of their relationship.

A Certain Hush by BlueberryAsh | 5434 words | Rated E

One of the first fanfics I read for Meronia and I'm not exaggerating when I say it changed my life. This fic has had SUCH a massive influence on the way I view and write the ship. It's a little glimpse into Mello and Near's relationship immediately after getting together. It's really cute and sweet in a way that feels authentic to the characters, and I'm incredibly impressed by the way it manages to give just enough backstory for their relationship to make sense without getting caught up in the details. Genuinely a masterpiece!

i want to hold you (hostage) by @neallo | 4 chapters | Rated E

The aforementioned angsty neallo fic! This one is an exes AU set during the canon timeline, and it is, as you can imagine, a very fraught dynamic done SO incredibly well. The tension is absolutely delicious and there are earnest moments littered throughout that are guaranteed to have you tearing up. Brilliant setup, brilliant writing, brilliant dynamic; just an absolutely stellar fic on all counts!!

[crepesuzette2023]

Hey! I'd love to hear your thoughts (and your readers' too!) or, if you'd like, your headcanon for what John and Paul's friendship/relationship/situationship might have looked like in the 80s if John hadn’t been murdered.

The more I listen to Paul's 70s discography, the more I feel just how much he seemed to miss John, and things didn’t seem to be getting easier as the decade came to a close. We know that songs like Now and Then and Real Love offer a glimpse into John's feelings, and there was clearly a sense of him missing Paul back.

So, do you have any headcanon about what could have been between them in that decade?

This is such a fascinating ask. Thank you.

I recently listened to McCartney II again, and also to Double Fantasy and Milk and Honey. And it struck me how alive and creative both of them were—and it made me think of their planned studio/writing date in January '81, which didn't happen.

What could their relationship have looked like, if John had lived? On the creative/musical level, I'm torn. Yes, they were Lennon and McCartney, and each of them was at a peak individually—surely they would have done great things together? But then I think of John describing the "Toot & A Snore" session, and how everyone was staring at him and Paul in the studio. Yes, they could have met in secret to write—but at some point, they would have had to share their new songs with the public. And I can totally imagine a situation where the public would have said, 'no thanks,' with only us, now, realizing how good their first album together actually was…(a la Ram)...and maybe they would have stopped after that...or wait: Paul would not have let them stop. :-)

In my mind, I'm fond of the idea of them collaborating and writing together, with space for each of them to do their own thing, provided they still enjoyed it and were happy with the results. It's impossible to say if that would have been the case. But in some weird way, I can't imagine them becoming friends (and more?) again without also enjoying writing together. Given the drama that played out via the press in the 70’s, neither of them cared about endless questions about the past, or the burden of being Lennon/McCartney. So perhaps...they would have written together under a pseudonym?! All their lives? Until this very day? Love that thought. (Didn't John have a tour planned with Double Fantasy? For some reason, I'm not really thinking about them forming a band again, or touring together in a systematic way.)

As for their friendship/relationship/situationship—God Only Knows what the fic writer in me would have wanted for them! :-)

All I can say is that I can't imagine a sustained, fruitful musical/songwriting collaboration without imagining them being genuinely close again. I'm not trying to avoid the 'lovers' question; I think what I said would be true regardless of the degree of canoodling: I don't think they would have written together again without being fond of, and enjoying, each other. The fact that they apparently planned studio time together before John died, suggests that the curiosity (hope?) was there.

I don't think they would have written masterpieces on the level of the Beatles, had they started writing again. But I'm only saying that because my imagination is more limited than their talent.

I think their relationship in the late 70's is difficult to gauge, and I tend to avoid that time period, because, knowing what will happen to John, it makes me sad. Musically they were in a good place in ‘79/’80. But maybe, if they had met and tried to write again, they would have concluded that they were worlds apart, and that would have been that.

But maybe they would have started to co-headline certain festivals? And always been *aware* of each other?!

And you know what— there was a kinkmeme prompt once, or was it a prompt for the Summer of Love fic-a-thon? Where John Lennon lives, and is going to bat for Paul and Broad Street when it's panned by the critics. I know Paul wouldn't have made GMRTBS with John alive, but he would have been panned for something, and guess who would have come out in his defense? Regardless of shared credits and secret or spouse-endorsed canoodling? Jooooohhhhhnnnnn.

That's the kind of scenario that makes me happy.

I hope this is giving you something. I would love to hear your thoughts, too, @therealsaintscully!

[skylee-spider-lillis]

Unfortunately I will not be able to finish the payneland fic I wanted on time to publish it on my birthday, however I will publish a snippet for now!

It's a fencing fic, because I'm a fencer Edwin truther, and the boys 100% fence as a game between them so my fic is based about that. Edwin tries to suggest fencing to talk about things and resolve the awkwardness that started between them after the love confession. It's not very long after Port Townsend.

I'm going to try to continue working on it to finish it on time but I'm at a bar on the beach that has loud distracting music to celebrate my birthday, I can't make any promises. However I will publish it tomorrow. Here is the snippet for now!

Charles was sitting on the desk, his legs on the chair, staring vacantly out of a window for the past few hours.

Edwin, who was reading a book on the sofa, eventually had enough of this new awkward distance between them and snapped, deciding he was going to do something about it, shake Charles out of it in any way he could.

.......

He tossed Charles his foil- a golden one with a left handed handle. Edwin’s foil was silver, matching Charles’ set. “Pick it up, we are going to fence.” He declared.

“What?” Charles looks up, shaking off from his thoughts and turned to his best friend, blinking surprised.

“I said, pick it up, we are going to fence. Frankly, I've had enough of your distant behaviour recently and I cannot let it pass any second longer. You cannot fool me, Charles Rowland, I know you, and after Port Townsend you have never made the return quite to your senses yet. So we are going to fence, and we are going to talk, in the way we do things. Because clearly something has gone wrong with you recently you refuse to let me in about.”

“Mate, there is nothing wro-” Charles started making himself force out a laugh in defence, but Edwin cut him.

“I have simply confessed to being in love, Charles, I have not been turned into a fool in all that regards you. I have known you for over 30 years, Charles Rowland, and I can tell when things are wrong. Yet you don’t come to me, although you are clearly bothered by me. Sometimes, I have to wonder if you still consider us best friends after all-” his voice break, trailing off.

“What? Mate, of course you are-” Charles rushed to defend against Edwin's words.

“Then talk with me, Charles. Fence with me, like we used to. Because I miss having my best friend around, and I don’t know what to think of you recently. Talk to me, please.” Edwin moves Charles’ foil on the desk closer to him, offering it to him again.

Charles took a few moments of thinking in silence before he responded again. They could fence, he supposes, he did miss them too, but- “Look, Edwin, mate, I don’t want to fight you- You are still pretty banged up from Esther’s house.” Not a lie, they both still had some traces of their iron burns. Esther’s house was still relatively fresh- they tried to bury it but the events of Port Townsend only took place twelve days ago.

Unfortunately, iron burns take an annoying amount of time to heal. Although not as bad now, slight traces of their burns still left.

They have been taking cases slower because of it, working on easy ones to start. Both of them acting more out of concern for the other than actually to themselves.

“Oh, you assume you would be able to get close to me?” Edwin teased arching his brow and Charles bit his lips, cheeks flushing slightly. Bollocks. Okay, his self confidence was hot-

Seeing him announcing it cockily and sure of himself like that ignited a fond and playful spark in Charles- he liked his overconfidence.

“I assure you, even in my lesser state I can still, as I believe they say today, ‘kick your ass’. You, on the other hand, have been shutting off from me for weeks, and I simply will not sit here and allow our friendship to continue suffering any longer. So please, fence with me again. Challenge me, if you will.”

“Edwin-” Charles gruntle sighing pretending to be rolling his eyes in decline, then he quickly picks up his foil going out to a surprise attack, a spark of mischief igniting back in him.

Adrenaline was flooding his ghost veins, in a good way-

He loved this. This was them. It just felt right.

Edit: fic posted! It's the most recent post below the pinned one on my blog!

[wonallofme]

Hi guys, I know I'm fairly new here but I want to say thanks for the 600+ notes that let it out, loser! received. Honestly, I didn't expect it. I wrote it only because I deeply needed to write something after so much time of not doing anything, and it was just something I thought and immediately wrote in one go. I never thought it would get this kind of attention.

I'm glad there are people that enjoyed it enough to even start following me. Maybe for some it's not much, but to get more than 50 followers in 24 hours impressed me. So, for all the love it received, thank you guys.

I hope I get to write more in this little blog, and I would love to receive some ideas or interact with you. I wouldn't say my requests are open since I can promise anything, but I would love to read your ideas and maybe do some hard hours (these, of course, aren't full stories so they would be easier for me to answer).

In the case of full fics, although I'm pretty fond of long ones (4k to 15k words, that's my limit), they take a lot of my time and drain me. In my last blog I suffered a big slump because of the group situation, the energy it took me to write and because I got an attention I didn't feel I deserved if I couldn't create perfect fics. For many months I could barely write without tossing ideas, but I want to change this and continue writing because, even with all the time and energy it takes from me, I enjoy doing it.

I love writing because it helps me disconnect with reality, and I'm happy when I see people enjoying my fics and they get to be a little self indulgent. If you have any particular thing/characteristic you'd like to talk about, I'd love to read it. In my last blog, and until now, I'm very happy to write about chubby/plus size readers, but if it's about big breasts, sporty body type, or any unconventional characteristic you would like to self indulge into, I have no problem imagining/talking about it. (I want to highlight the word unconventional. I know not specifying helps to develop inclusion, but being seen definitely helps too. I think there are attributes that have already been seen here in the app/fandom, specially those related to the norm of femininity and beauty standards such as being small/petite/short, and like a girl that's out of that standard, I wish to make my peers feel seen too. Still, I'd never like to exclude anyone (fem!reader) in my blog, so, if not asked for, I also write fics without specifications, which you can identify by looking at the trigger warning/tag section at the start of every post.)

I think I made it clear that I just love interactions. I want to write long/short fics, hard hours or even to talk about things that aren't related to those two. I just ask for your patience if it takes me a little to answer because I work, participate as a TA in one of my old classes and I'm currently preparing an article for my grade.

To end this long message, I would like to thank you guys again. I hope I get to hear more from you, and that you all have a great day!

— credits for the edit to my friend, fairy.

[justheblueberry]

the process of binding a study in scarlette:

SO. i had a Vision for this fic, right from the start. so many new things i wanted to do and almost no idea how to do it. but let's start from the beginning, shall we?

i usually don't do anywhere NEAR this amount of brainstorming and designing but the fic has so many motifs and details that i knew i wanted to fit in, so i had to draw it all out and piece everything together.

here are a few of my behind-the-scenes brainstorming notes:

this was the very first brainstorm i did, it was basically me flinging a bunch of cool book stuff i saw other people doing at the wall and seeing what stuck in my brain.

this was an idea for a cover which incorporated symbols for each of the chapters inside the branches, but i just wasn't fond of the execution of the draft. so i scrapped it, eventually settling on the silhouette cover for the final.

i had big dreams! and not much experience to back it up with ! so after finishing the typeset, i put it aside for a bit and did a couple other binds first.

this was my second brainstorm, i started to figure out the direction i wanted the illustrations to go in, no longer aimlessly tossing vibes around!

i did a lot of waffling about different versions of the back cover design. here's a couple that i scrapped!

over the summer, i decided to finally stop procrastinating and printed out the typeset (after making a few revisions to it). it's a Chonk. i pressed it some, which helped, but it definitely still had a lot of swell.

sewing with red thread.

endpapers cut, glued, and a glow in the dark paint test.

built a press...up til this point i'd just been stacking a bunch of thick books on top of my binds, but for this one i needed a lying press to sand my edges, so i finally caved. who needs tools? my edge painted book needs tools :(

sanding edges with power sander

so. this was my first time doing anything with edges, so i did a little test on a book i already had; it was a bit of a process trying to work out how much i should dilute it, and it took a bit of trial and error. doing the bottom edge first was the right call ^^;; it's the flakiest out of all the edges on the final bind. i'm really happy with the fore edge though, i got a really even and nice coat on it.

rounding, gluing and (an attempt at) backing

so. it was the day before i was moving. i had run out of time to procrastinate any more. the rounding was quite rushed and i barely backed it at all. there was also the fact that i don't have backing boards and was winging it with absolute unfounded confidence. it still turned out okay though so i got away with it!

dug out a 5 yen coin from who knows where for the bookmark. didn't have pliers with me yet so i had to close the crimp with a metal water bottle and arm strength. who needs tools right

endbands. i love sewing endbands, but man, for chonk fics it gets Long. i think they each took like 2-4 hours to do. i briefly considered learning double core endbands for this bind but decided against it as i barely just got a handle on regular ones. discovery: my ambitions have limits!

this was my finalized cover design. i had planned to do it all with htv, but last minute decided to do the silhouette as a linocut instead. i'd never done one before but i had the materials and the fearlessness that only a beginner (who does not know the limits of fear) can have; i think it turned out good :>

the final stretch!!!! it was at this point, when i realized that the size i'd carved the linocut at would be too wide for the half binding case i had planned. improvisation time. i decided to switch from a regular case binding to a three piece bradel. i have only done case bindings and stab bindings at this point...and with only mild panic and stubborn hubris to fuel me, i went for it. i had already attached an oxford hollow and cut my boards, but it probably wouldn't make too much of a difference! fuck around and find out!

cutting the cloth and adhering the htv. the summary on the back was HELL to weed, and some of the letters ended up crooked. i should've just printed it letterpress, but i was running out of patience.

i followed DAS bookbinding's tutorial on youtube of his in-boards three piece bradel and the part where i had to tuck in the spine cloth in between the hollow was definitely the trickiest, but it went okay in the end!

after attaching the boards and gluing down the endpapers i was finally done!!!! after months and months of the unfinished textblock guilting me from the corner of my room, it's finally finished! fancy pics coming soon!

i learned SO MUCH from this bind, sanding edges, painting edges, linocuts, multiple colors of htv, oxford hollows, and a whole new style of binding....yeah. it was a ride! thanks for reading to the end!

[it-happened-one-fic]

Unspoken Wishes - Ayato

Author Notes: This fic was written while I listened to Ayato's theme, "Wishes Unspoken" by Hoyoverse which is a large reason for why this fic ended up the way it did. I actually wrote this in an attempt to better understand Ayato's character since he's intriguing to me. He's so important to Inazuma and is a 5 star, but he only appears a few times in he game. This fic ended up kind of short just as a result of it's intial purpose of exploring Ayato's character, but I'm rather pleased with it. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/ romantic/ pining/ sfw

Word Count: 841

Ayato was a man who had many wishes. 

He wished for a bright future for Inazuma. He wished for his sister’s happiness. He wished for times of peace and serenity. And, he wished for stability in life. 

These wishes were all well known, and he had given voice to them many times. You, at the very least, knew about his many, many, many wishes. 

He would tell you about these things during your interactions, and you would listen, a gentle smile on your face as you nodded along. 

Sometimes you would comment that these were things that everyone wished for and that there was no need for him to feel greedy for wishing such things because you, somehow, knew that he felt that he was greedy.

But you did not know how truly greedy Ayato was because you did not know all his wishes. For there were some that remained unspoken. 

Because while he could tell you most anything, he could not tell you the nature of these wishes. Not yet, at the very least.

Perhaps someday he would tell you of how he wished for days where he could simply exist by your side without having to worry about paperwork. Or how he yearned for your face to be the first thing he saw upon waking. Or even how he longed to hold you close to him with no concern of what the public would say or how it might affect you.

These unspoken wishes that pertained to experiencing the mundaneness of daily life by your side, hand in hand, and peacefully happy. These were where his greed reared its head.

Apparently just knowing you was not enough for him, nor was basking in your presence, which seemed far too blissful to be part of reality. And he wondered what it said about him—that he couldn’t just be satisfied with your presence. That he wanted more than just friendship.

Perhaps it was that he was uncertain about how fond of him you were and worried about a future where you would someday leave. It was certainly possible, and such thoughts had occurred to him before. But Ayato also suspected that it was more than just that. Because he honestly felt that you could swear to stay by his side as an eternal bosom friend and that it wouldn’t be enough to sate his greed.

Oh, he would accept it and not speak of the unspoken wishes that would doubtless linger in his heart. But he would still silently long for more. And that was the realization that truly made Ayato recognize his own greed. 

There were days that Ayato wondered if you would ever learn of his unspoken wishes. After all, he recognized that you may not want to live your life as part of the Kamisato Clan. 

Ever under the gaze of the public of Inazuma. Constantly being judged for how you carried yourself and being turned to as a source of guidance in any moment of turmoil. 

He couldn’t say that was something he wanted for you. Especially when what he yearned for was simple days by your side. Not days where the entire country turned to both you and him in moments of turmoil and confusion.

But then there was something in that smile that you wore while you chatted with him that made him wonder if perhaps you wouldn’t mind at all. Perhaps you would be just as happy to be by his side as he would be to be by yours? It was a fond hope of his that this was the truth of the matter. But whether he would ever learn if that was the case was yet to be decided.

And, to be fair, Ayato didn’t know what unspoken wishes you might have.

He knew of some of your wishes, and he would never forget the day that you’d smilingly told him that you also wished for the people dear to you to live their days in joy. You’d gone on to tell him that, yes, he was included in that list of people. You wished for his happiness just as he wished for yours, even if he had never been as brave as you were and was not yet able to tell you that.

It was a memory that always brought a smile to Ayato’s face. One that his sister or Thoma might question since it wasn’t a smugly amused smile or anything of that sort. Instead, it was an affectionate smile that was only worn when one thought of someone incredibly dear to them.

It was the same smile he wore whenever his eyes would find yours across a crowded street. Standing as you often were under a rain of pink cherry blossoms.

Sometimes you would be conversing with someone, and sometimes you were alone. But every time your eyes met his, you would smile in return before finding your way to him or watching as he approached you. With unspoken wishes in his heart and warm greetings on his lips.

[seriousbrat]

why I don't think the Blacks were actually that wealthy is this:

"A reasonable amount of gold."

So, Harry inherits ALL of Sirius's money, house, his house-elf. Since Grimmauld Place goes to Sirius after the death of his parents, it's fair to assume that he also got all their money. He also, as we know, inherited a good chunk of gold from his Uncle Alphard. Being in Azkaban for 12 years and later living in hiding/at Grimmauld place, he probably did not spend much of that money. His one big expense is the Firebolt, which, yeah, is expensive but if the Blacks had been uber loaded like they're portrayed in fic, I don't think Dumbledore would have used the word "reasonable" to describe what was left to Harry.

Reasonable suggests to me that yeah, it's a decent amount. But it's not MORE than what Harry already had. It's not an EXTREME amount.

Another thing for me is the matter of Bellatrix's marriage. Narcissa and Lucius seem to genuinely be in love, but I don't think Bellatrix mentions Rodolphus, her literal husband, ONCE (correct me if I'm wrong but I'm fairly certain) in the ENTIRE series. She was in love with Voldemort. She probably didn't want to marry Rodolphus and clearly didn't care much about him. This suggests to me that the motivations behind this marriage were financial rather than romantic. Even Narcissa's marriage to Lucius was probably financially motivated, even though they were lucky enough to actually be a good match. Walburga married her own cousin- again, this was likely financially motivated.

The other clue is Grimmauld Place itself. Historically, wealthy/aristocratic families would have a london townhouse for the season, but reside most of the time in country estates or manor houses. There's no mention of any Black family estate at all, and if there was one Sirius being the eldest male heir would have inherited it, as would Harry later. The fact that the Blacks live only in their London house (which is not even that ostentatious, it's terraced and between Muggle houses. why would they choose this.) suggests to me that any country estate they might have had was sold. I guess you could argue that Cygnus and his daughters lived there, but he was the younger male so i find this unlikely. If anything, it would have gone to Alphard. It might have passed to Cygnus upon his death, but that still leaves Walburga without.

What I think happened was that the Blacks were a typical old money family with dwindling resources. Likely Orion and Walburga did not work, and yet still clung to a lavish, aristocratic lifestyle while burning the galleons they had. Grimmauld Place is in a state of disrepair, and yeah it's been abandoned for 12+ years but imo it probably started before that. Kreacher is OBSESSED with Black family heirlooms, which suggests that Walburga probably was too- likely she clung onto them as signs of her family's wealth and status, which was fading away before her eyes.

Personally I think Alphard probably inherited the bulk of what was left of the Black fortune, possibly an estate which he then either sold or gave to someone else- but presumably not Walburga, as she blasted him off the tapestry.

And the blasting of Alphard itself. Yeah Walburga hated Sirius and anyone who looked kindly on him, but imo if had she been rolling in it and money was of no concern, Alphard leaving Sirius some gold might not have been especially noteworthy to her. I believe that she was hoping that either she or Regulus would inherit the gold, and when he left it to Sirius she reacted VERY angrily. Because tbh, it might have just gone to him by default as the eldest male heir if Cygnus was dead by that time, which if this is the case seems likely because Alphard DID leave Sirius money. If it was just about him being fond of Sirius she likely would have blasted him off earlier. It seems to me like it was about the money, and to me explains why Walburga was so bitter and so possessive over her legacy.

edit: it is actually canon that inheritance in the Black family goes through the male line: