#embrace superstition

[rue-with-the-tarot]

I’m sick of having to censor my language and beliefs in order to save face in my community. I am polytheistic. I am pagan. I believe in many gods. I worship many gods. I speak to the gods and they speak back. I can hear them. I can see them. I have conversations with them. I believe in faeries. I have faeries that are my friends and live in my house. I give them offerings and they help with the chores. They also take my things and play other practical pranks, just like the old stories said. I know their names. I speak to them and they speak back. I believe in ghosts and spirits. I grew up in a haunted house. I’m psychic. I can speak to the dead. I have spoken to both living and dead animals. I’m superstitious. I find comfort in old wives tales. I am spiritually powerful. I will speak my truth, even if it makes me yet another witch on the outskirts. So be it. That is my destiny.

Khairete.

[rue-with-the-tarot]

This is already a great and profound message. But I want to chime in and add that it’s okay to be superstitious. The old superstitions went to the wayside and fell into the category of foolishness and ignorant primitivism. The old ways became burdened with the misogynistic label of being “silly old wives tales”. While not all of this knowledge is always accurate or reliable, many of recently been backed by even the patriarchal science structures as having merit, centuries after they were labeled as poppycock. The old practices of consulting spirits and faeries for guidance and out of respect is almost extinct in the world with very little regard given except in cases like Iceland and in areas further out from capitalistic civilization. For many, belief in a singular god is considered outdated and even intellectually flawed. For others, belief in the “wrong god” is an inexcusable practice. I don’t think I have to mention how polytheistic, animistic, etc. beliefs are treated. We are burdened with the image of the medieval fool who were backwards thinkers, despite that being the image of forceful Christianity. We are left with the imprint of a long dead ancient people, and I think that a lot of people have a Christian worldview that their polytheism was a reason for their extinction. With that in mind, we are seen as backwards, foolish, primitive, and not as intelligent as modern secular thinkers. I disagree. I embrace superstition. Not to an unhealthy degree, but in a way that I have respect for the more unseen, unexplainable aspects of the world. I’m proud to be labeled superstitious, because that doesn’t mean I reject science. It means I accept more into my heart and mind rather than be exclusionary based on the opinions of others. Embrace your worldview!

Listen. Abandoning the idea of what a proper pagan is was the most rewarding experience. Your intuition is stronger than you think.

This isn't a science. You don't have to treat it like one. Go with your heart, go with your intuition. It will help you grow more than you've ever dreamed of.

[leona-hawthorne]

KINKTOBER #2– THE HAUNTED MANOR / theodore nott

october 3rd toys , voyeurism , humiliation , bondage

theodore nott x fem reader

summary: you have some… interesting experiences with theo when you and your friends decide to spend the night in an old haunted manor

warnings: toys (use of dildo and vibrator), unprotected piv, bondage, humiliation, 18+ content

words: 5.1k

a/n: sorry this was posted so late :(

navigation kinktober masterlist

The crisp October night wrapped itself around you like a cold embrace, the wind whispering through the overgrown vines that clung to the rusted iron gates before you. The abandoned manor loomed in the distance, a decaying relic of the past, its towering silhouette dominating the sprawling grounds.

"Are we seriously spending the night here?" Pansy's voice wavered between excitement and fear as she glanced at the foreboding mansion.

"Of course," Mattheo grinned, his usual cocky demeanor unfazed. "Nothing wrong with a little ghost hunting with friends."

Blaise snorted, smirking. "Yeah, unless we end up as ghosts ourselves."

"Relax, you nitwits. It's just an old house," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes as he pushed open the creaking iron gates.

You shivered, instinctively pulling your cloak tighter around your shoulders. "Theo, are you sure about this?" you asked softly, your gaze flickering to your boyfriend standing beside you. His sharp features were illuminated by the pale moonlight, his hair falling lazily over his eyes. He glanced at you, smirking as his hand slipped into yours, sending a wave of warmth through the chill.

"Don't tell me you're scared," he teased. "It's just an old house."

"You said it was haunted," you reminded him, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of your voice.

Theo's smirk widened. "Rumors. Superstitions. Nothing you need to worry about."

With a playful tug, he pulled you forward, leading you through the rusted gates that groaned ominously in the stillness. The gravel crunched beneath your feet as the two of you made your way toward the manor, its black silhouette growing more oppressive with every step. The air felt heavy—almost alive—with the weight of forgotten magic, or perhaps something far more sinister.

When you reached the massive oak doors, Theo paused, glancing at you over his shoulder with that same teasing grin. "Still want to go inside?"

Your heart hammered in your chest, the oppressive energy of the place thickening the air, but you wouldn't let him see your hesitation. You swallowed hard and nodded, determined not to back down now. Not in front of him.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice laced with approval.

With a forceful push, the doors groaned open, revealing the dark, decaying entrance hall. The air inside was colder than outside, thick with dust and the scent of mildew. Torn tapestries lined the walls, forgotten remnants of a grandeur long faded.

You groaned, glancing around in disbelief. "Remind me again why I agreed to this?" you muttered, frustration mingling with your mounting anxiety.

Theo led you deeper into the manor, his steps confident as if he'd been here a thousand times. The others followed behind, their footsteps echoing through the grand, dilapidated space. Cobwebs hung from every corner like old lace, and the weight of the silence was almost suffocating. Theo turned to you, extending his hand once more.

"So," he said with a grin, "what do you think? Spooky enough for you? Let me know if you need someone to hold your hand."

You shot him a glare, though the knot in your stomach betrayed your bravado. Your fingers brushed lightly against his. "Shut up. I told you, I'm not scared," you grumbled, though the darkened hallways told a different story.

Your heart thudded in your chest, the mix of fear and his teasing making your pulse quicken. “But I won't lie, there is something about being here that makes my skin crawl," you admitted, barely above a whisper, as you unconsciously inched toward him.

His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you slightly closer. "I thought you weren't scared," he teased again, though his voice was softer now, almost amused. "Maybe you need a big, strong man to keep you safe after all."

Rolling your eyes, you elbowed him lightly. "I said shut up."

His lips curled into a gleeful smile, clearly enjoying your unease. "Lucky for you, love, I'm here to save the day." With your hand firmly in his, he led you further into the manor, the old floorboards creaking beneath your every step.

The shadows deepened as you ventured further inside, their long, jagged shapes seeming to reach for you. Theo's grip tightened on your hand, offering silent reassurance as the cold stone walls closed in. "We should stick together anyway," he mused, his tone lighter now. "Safety in numbers, right?"

Eventually, the two of you found yourselves in a grand sitting room, the large windows covered with tattered, moth-eaten curtains. Faded portraits lined the walls, their painted eyes tracking your every movement with unnerving accuracy. A cold, dead fireplace loomed at the far end, its once-mighty hearth now filled with lifeless ashes.

"Cozy," Theo smirked, wandering over to a dusty bookshelf. He trailed a finger along the spines of the old books, eyeing them curiously. "I bet there's some fascinating reading material in here."

You snorted, rolling your eyes as you playfully nudged him. "Only you would think about books in a place like this, nerd."

Before he could reply, a loud thump echoed from upstairs, causing both of you to jump. Theo's eyes widened momentarily before he composed himself with a chuckle.

"Probably just the others... or maybe the ghosts," he joked, his hand resting protectively on the small of your back.

With a shared look, the two of you headed back to the foyer, where your friends were gathered, lounging on worn furniture and discussing their next move.

"Well, well, looks like our little explorers found nothing but dust and cobwebs," Lorenzo called from his spot on an aged velvet sofa, a grin plastered on his face. "I say that’s enough sightseeing for now. We’ve got a whole night ahead of us. How about we liven things up with a game of Truth or Dare?"

Theo rolled his eyes. "Truth or Dare? Seriously, Enzo? What are you, fourteen?"

Mattheo chuckled, shrugging. "What else are we gonna do in a place like this?"

"Fine, fine," Theo said, throwing up his hands. "But I’m only playing if there’s alcohol involved." He turned to you with a wicked grin. "Since my lovely girlfriend is feeling so bold tonight, why don't you start us off? Truth or dare?"

You met his gaze, unwilling to back down from the challenge. "Dare," you replied, lifting your chin defiantly. "I'm not afraid of a little challenge.”

A slow grin spread across Theo's face. "Alright, I dare you..." He paused dramatically, letting the tension build. " ...to kiss me. Right here, in front of everyone.”

The collective groan from your friends was almost comical. "That's hardly a dare," you scoffed. "I mean, you are my boyfriend."

"Maybe I just wanted an excuse to kiss you," Theo shot back with a cheeky grin.

You rolled your eyes, but your annoyance couldn't hide the small smile tugging at your lips. "You're such a show-off.”

Without further hesitation, you stepped forward and kissed him deeply, your fingers threading through his hair as your lips moved together. You blocked out the catcalls and whistles from your friends, focused only on the warmth of Theo's body pressed against yours. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, and for a moment, the eerie manor and all its dangers faded away.

As you broke apart, breathless, Theo smirked, his forehead resting against yours. "Much better than I expected," he murmured, his tone filled with playful pride.

You blushed, looking away. "Shut up. You got what you wanted."

Theo's low chuckle vibrated against your skin as he nuzzled into your cheek. "Oh, I did indeed," he purred, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Now, who's next?"

Lorenzo's mischievous grin widened as he turned toward Mattheo, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Truth or Dare, Riddle. You're up."

Mattheo leaned back, stretching lazily before his dark eyes flickered toward Lorenzo. "Dare, of course. Give me something good."

The game spiraled from there, the room filling with laughter and mock indignation as truth after truth was spilled, and dare after dare was accepted with varying degrees of bravado. Lorenzo had Blaise sprinting across the room in his underwear, Pansy revealing a rather scandalous secret about her latest fling, and Mattheo howling in laughter after being dared to serenade one of the portraits on the wall.

It wasn't long, however, before the attention returned to you, and the smirk on Lorenzo's face sent a chill crawling down your spine. His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long before he spoke.

"Y/N," Lorenzo began, the edges of his grin sharp. "I dare you to go up and explore the attic."

The room fell into a heavy silence, all eyes suddenly on you. Your heart clenched, beating too fast as you turned to look at the darkened staircase leading up to the second floor. The attic? You had barely been able to stomach walking through the front doors, let alone venturing into the bowels of the ancient manor—alone.

"Go to the attic... alone?" you repeated, your voice sounding far smaller than you'd intended. The shadows seemed to press closer, thickening the air.

Theo's fingers tightened around your waist, his familiar warmth grounding you for just a moment. You could feel his smirk without needing to look. He loved this, loved teasing you, loved pushing you to your limits just to see how far you'd go. And you hated that it worked every single time.

"Too much for you, love?" he whispered, his breath hot against your neck. "Because I can always come with you." His voice dropped lower, becoming a rumbling hum that sent a shiver racing down your spine. "Just imagine—us, together, in the dark... how thrilling that could be."

Your mouth went dry as his words sent your imagination spinning. You could feel the others watching, waiting for your response, but all you could focus on was the heat of Theo's body against yours and the way his fingers trailed possessively down your arm.

Theo's grin widened as he nipped at your earlobe, voice dark with amusement. "What do you say, Y/N? Want me to hold your hand?"

You huffed, pushing away the growing tension. "Shut up," you muttered again, glaring at him in mock irritation, though the playful twinkle in your eyes betrayed the act.

His hand slid from your waist to your lower back, and he leaned closer, whispering, "If you're too scared to go, just say the word. No shame in admitting it."

Your breath caught as his words lingered between you, a challenge wrapped in seduction. You squared your shoulders, unwilling to let him win. You'd spent far too long playing this game with Theodore Nott, and you weren't about to back down now.

"Fine," you said, louder this time as you stepped away from him, brushing his hands off with a deliberate flourish. "But I'm not going alone." You shot him a pointed look. "You're coming with me."

Theo's smirk softened, the gleam of triumph in his eyes unmistakable. "Of course I am," he murmured.

Lorenzo groaned dramatically from his spot on the couch. "Oh, come on, that's cheating! She's supposed to go by herself."

Mattheo chuckled from the other side of the room, shaking his head. "Let them have their fun. At least one of us might get something out of this trip to hell."

Ignoring the banter, Theo wrapped an arm around your shoulders and steered you toward the staircase. The creaking of the old wood echoed through the hall as you ascended, each step a reminder of the isolation waiting above. The air grew colder, thicker, the musty scent of forgotten years clinging to every surface. The hallway stretched out before you, dimly lit by the moonlight filtering through the cracked windows.

Theo's grip on you tightened as you reached the attic door, its old wooden frame warped and splintered with age. He paused, his hand on the doorknob, glancing at you with a raised brow. "Ready for this, love?" His voice was soft, teasing, but there was something darker flickering in his gaze, something that made your stomach flip in anticipation.

You hesitated, the weight of the dare pressing down on you like the air in the old manor, thick and suffocating. But with Theo by your side, that familiar heat spreading through your veins, you nodded. "Yeah."

With a smirk, Theo twisted the knob and pushed the door open with a loud creak.

The attic yawned before you—dark, dust-choked, and thick with an eerie stillness that made your skin prickle. Cobwebs clung to the rafters, and the only sound was the faint rustle of wind outside, whispering through the cracks in the walls.

You took a tentative step inside, the floorboards groaning beneath your weight. Theo was right behind you, his presence a steadying force as you ventured further into the darkness. Your heartbeat thudded in your ears, each step sending a pulse of adrenaline through your veins.

There was a four-poster bed lying in the middle of the attic, as if the people who lived here all those years ago had used it as a bedroom.

Theo, ever the opportunist, moved closer, running a finger along the edge of the mattress.

"This place really does have a certain charm, doesn't it?" He turned to you, a wicked glint in his eye. "Almost romantic, don't you think?"

Before you could respond, he pulled you onto the bed beside him, the springs creaking under your combined weight. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you close as he nuzzled your neck.

“Romantic? That’s funny. You’re too horny for your own good, Theodore Nott.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he leaned in, lips grazing your ear. "Guilty as charged, love. But what can I say? You bring out the worst in me."

His hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your hips, slipping under your shirt to tease the sensitive skin of your lower back. His touch ignited sparks across your flesh, and you found yourself arching into him, craving more.

With a deft tug, he pulled your shirt off over your head, tossing it carelessly aside. His gaze raked over your exposed torso, lingering on the swell of your breasts tucked away beneath your bra before meeting your eyes with a smoldering intensity. "Beautiful," he breathed, voice husky with desire. "Absolutely stunning."

He pulled back for a moment, swiftly running a hand over his face. “I actually, um… found some pretty interesting things of yours the other day. In your dorm.”

Your eyes narrowed, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and indignation. “What are you talking about?" you demanded, trying to keep your tone steady despite the sudden rush of heat coursing through your veins at the thought of Theo rummaging through your belongings.

Theo's smile widened, an amused glint dancing in his eyes as he reached into his messenger bag. He pulled out a small pink vibrator, waving it tauntingly before setting it on the bedside table. "This little number, for instance," he purred, leaning in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "I must say, it looks quite impressive."

Next, he produced a purple silicone dildo, holding it aloft like a trophy. "And then there's this... rather large toy you've got stashed away. Quite the collection you've got going on here, love." His gaze flicked back to your face, drinking in your reaction with a knowing smirk.

"How do these magic tricks work, hmm? Do they come with instructions, or are you an expert in carnal delights already?"

You felt your face flush even hotter at the sight of your most intimate belongings being waved around so casually. A surge of anger mixed with humiliation threatened to overwhelm you, but you forced yourself to maintain a facade of nonchalance.

"When did you even find those?” you murmured embarrassedly.

Theo's smirk deepened as he watched the play of emotions across your face—the blush staining your cheeks, the tension in your jaw, the defiant spark in your eyes. It was a delicious combination, one that stirred his blood and set his nerve endings alight with anticipation.

"Last week, when I stayed over at your dorm," he replied casually, as if discussing the weather. "I was looking for some cigs in your nightstand drawer while you were in the shower and well..." He shrugged, a picture of feigned innocence. "They just sort of jumped out at me.”

He traced a finger along the length of the dildo, humming thoughtfully before he moved closer, his fingers trailing up your thigh as he sat on the edge of the bed beside you. "Quite the naughty girl, aren't you, love?" He leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth.

As he kissed you deeply, Theo's hand slid higher, fingers brushing the waistline of your jeans, unbuttoning them before dipping underneath to caress the smooth skin of your inner thigh. His touch was electric, sending shivers racing up your spine as he teased the sensitive flesh mere inches from your core.

"So, tell me, baby," he murmured against your lips, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth along your jawline, nipping at the tender skin beneath your ear. "You prefer this—" He held up the dildo, wiggling it suggestively, “—fake cock when you have the real thing right here, always ready and willing?"

His fingers continued their maddening exploration, inching closer to the heat of your center with each passing second. His thumb rubbed against your clit through the thin barrier of your underwear, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as he continued to tease you.

"I mean, they're cute and all, but nothing compares to the feel of my cock buried deep inside you, does it?" He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered. He gestured to himself, his meaning clear. One hand drifted down to palm the bulge straining against his trousers, a silent invitation, a promise of pleasure.

"Is my girl really that impatient, hm?" he mused, a teasing lilt to his voice. "That she can't just wait for her boyfriend to come and fuck her senseless whenever she needs it?"

His fingers slipped beneath the waistline of your pants once again, teasing along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Your breathing hitched as his touch grew bolder, fingertips brushing against your clothed sex with feather-light strokes. The ache between your legs intensified, your panties dampening with each passing second.

He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through you like a physical caress. "Using these cheap substitutes instead of demanding what she really wants. Why don’t you give me a little demonstration?"

His hand cupped your mound possessively, applying pressure that made you squirm.

You gasped sharply as Theo's fingers pressed against your aching sex, the contact sending shivers racing down your spine. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more friction, more relief from the throbbing need building within you.

“It’s not like that…” you mumbled. “Just… please…”

"Please what?" Theo arched a brow, a mocking tilt to his lips. "You think you deserve real dick right now after keeping secrets from me? After using toys behind my back like some desperate slut?"

He withdrew his hand abruptly, leaving you aching and empty. Rising from the bed, he stepped back, folding his arms across his chest as he leveled you with a stern look. "Strip. Now. Let's see how much of a show you can put on for me."

Theo's gaze raked over your body, his eyes lingering on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips. He licked his lips slowly, deliberately, a predatory gleam in his eye. "Come on, baby. Don’t get shy now. Show me what you've been hiding."

You kicked off your shoes, and as you unclasped your bra, he drank in the sight of your full breasts, nipples pebbling under his heated gaze. Lower still, past the dip of your waist and flare of your hips, until your jeans pooled at your feet, leaving you clad in only a scrap of lace.

“Fuck, look at you," he growled appreciatively, palming the growing hardness in his trousers. "Such a pretty little thing, aren't you? All mine to play with."

He relaxed back on a nearby armchair. "Now then, why don't you show me exactly what these toys of yours can do?"

Theo lounged back in the chair, his eyes never leaving you as you stood there trembling, exposed and vulnerable. A wicked grin spread across his face as he watched you with hooded eyes. “Go on then, sweetheart. Show me how you like to be fucked. Pretend I'm not even here."

As you grasped the dildo, he panted softly, drinking in the sight of your hand wrapped around the smooth plastic. He reached down to adjust his bulge, the fabric of his pants bunching obscenely as he watched you remove your panties.

You leaned back, spreading your legs wide in a lewd display, but you didn’t know what to do with the toy in your hand. Not when he was right in front of you.

A cruel smile played about his lips as he saw the hesitation in your eyes, the reluctance in your movements. "What's wrong, love? Suddenly shy? You weren't shy when you were fucking yourself silly with these, were you?"

With trembling hands, you brought the toy to your lips, flicking your tongue out, tracing the contours, coating it in saliva. Then, you trailed it lower, over your collarbone, between the valley of your breasts. You circled a nipple with the toy's tip, gasping at the sensation.

"There we go. Now, move it down and start rubbing it against your clit. Nice and slow. I want to see you squirm."

He reclined further into the chair, making no move to join you, simply observing your every move with an air of dark amusement.

You whimpered, feeling exposed and humiliated as you followed Theo's instructions. Your cheeks burned with shame as you brought the dildo to your aching sex, rubbing the slick head against your swollen clit.

You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood, fighting back tears of mortification. But beneath the embarrassment, a spark of arousal ignited, fueled by the knowledge that he was watching you so intently.

Your hips began to rock instinctively, the toy gliding through your wet folds, stroking places that made you shudder and moan quietly. You couldn't meet his gaze, too ashamed to see the smug satisfaction in his eyes.

"That’s my girl… Now, put it inside you where it belongs. Fill up that greedy little cunt.”

With a shaky breath, you aligned the dildo with your entrance, pushing it in gradually. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, and you cried out at the feeling. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you forced yourself to relax, letting the toy sink deeper.

"Fuck, look at you taking it like a good little slut," Theo drawled, leaning forward in his chair to get a better view. He reached down to stroke himself lazily, his thumb rubbing circles over the straining bulge in his trousers.

Reaching for the smaller vibrator on the bed beside you, he tossed it onto the sheets. "Pick it up. I want to hear you scream as you cum all over both of them. Show me how well you can multitask."

Your hands shook as you fumbled for the small device, turning it on with a buzzing whine. You positioned it against your clit, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your core. Your hips rolled faster, the dildo thrusting in and out of your stretched hole in rhythm with the toy's relentless stimulation.

“Come on. Make yourself cum while I watch you rut on that toy like a bitch in heat. I want to hear you moaning like the desperate whore you are.”

Theo's eyes gleamed with sadistic glee as he watched you writhe in ecstasy, your moans echoing off the walls. The obscene sounds of your self-pleasure filled the room, mingling with the creaks of the bed and the soft buzzing of the vibrator.

"That's it, baby. Fuck yourself senseless. Show me just how depraved you can be when you're alone with your filthy toys," he sneered, stroking himself harder through his trousers.

As the pleasure built to a fever pitch, your inner muscles clamped down on the dildo, milking it for all it was worth. With a keening wail, you came undone, your whole body shaking as wave after wave of intense orgasm crashed over you.

"You're so beautiful when you lose control like that," Theo purred.

He sat up straighter in his chair, his eyes burning with a dark hunger as he watched you collapse back onto the bed, spent and panting. "Look at you, covered in sweat and cum... Such a lovely mess."

He rose slowly, unbuckling his belt and freeing his aching cock. It sprang forth, thick and pulsing, already leaking precum. With a wicked grin, he climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your splayed thighs.

Theo grabbed your wrists roughly, pulling them above your head and securing them to the headboard with silky ropes. He repeated the process with your ankles, spreading your legs obscenely wide and tying them to the footposts.

"Just relax, love. This won't hurt a bit," he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he bound your wrists above your head to the headboard.

Once you were completely immobilized, he stepped back to admire his work, licking his lips as he drank in the sight of your helpless, exposed body.

"I think it's time I took my turn playing with you," he rasped, trailing a finger along your slick slit. "Open up for me, sweetheart. Let me fill this greedy cunt with something real."

Theo's fingers probed your dripping entrance, circling the rim before pushing inside. He groaned low in his throat at the feel of your velvety walls clenching around him. "Fuck, you're still so tight... Even after all that."

He worked two fingers deep, pumping them slowly as he watched your face contort with pleasure. His thumb found your sensitive clit, rubbing firm circles over the bud. "I bet you'd love to have my cock instead, wouldn't you? To feel me splitting you open, filling you up until you can't take anymore?"

His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Tell me you need it. Beg me to fuck you raw."

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body trembling from the aftershocks of your intense climax. As Theo's fingers delved into your sensitive flesh, you bit your lip hard, trying to stifle the moans that threatened to spill free.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, the image of him replacing those fingers with his thick, throbbing cock making your pussy clench hungrily. You wanted it, craved the sensation of being stretched and filled beyond capacity.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "Please, I need it. I need you inside me."

Theo smirked as he heard your breathy pleas, his ego swelling at the power he held over you. “Such a dirty, needy girl for me, aren’t you?”

With a growl of triumph, he lined himself up, the blunt head of his member nudging insistently at your entrance. In one swift motion, he hilted himself inside you, stretching you deliciously around his thick girth.

"Fuck!" he snarled, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in. The bed frame rattled with each powerful thrust, the obscene sound of flesh smacking against flesh filling the room. Theo set a brutal pace, pounding into you with single-minded focus, determined to make you scream.

Theo's hand shot down beside your body, grasping the vibrator. He turned it up to its highest setting, the intense vibrations making your entire pelvis quiver.

"This should really get you going, doesn't it?" he sneered, grinding the toy against your clit with each punishing thrust. "Feeling my cock splitting you open while this thing eats at your poor little pussy..."

His words were punctuated by the lewd slap of skin on skin as he continued to rail into you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each brutal stroke. The dual sensations of the vibrator and his cock driving into you relentlessly pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

Your body jerked violently as the vibrator hit full force, the intense vibrations making your clit throb in time with Theo's merciless thrusts. The restraints held you in place, forcing you to submit to every punishing stroke, every deep, grinding push against your cervix.

Pleasure and pain blurred together, the overwhelming sensations threatening to short-circuit your mind. Tears streamed down your face, your vision blurring at the edges as you teetered on the brink of another explosive orgasm.

Your toes curled, your back arching as much as the bonds would allow, trying to take him even deeper.

You cried out, writhing around, the restraints holding you back as he used you mercilessly, tears pricking your eyes. His free hand grabbed at your tits, roughly squeezing them as his thumb flicked over your nipple.

"Don't hold back now, cum for me, pretty girl," Theo commanded, his own climax rapidly approaching.

Theo felt your walls spasming wildly around him, signaling your impending orgasm. He redoubled his efforts, pistoning into you with ruthless intensity as the vibrator buzzed against your clit.

"That's it, baby, make a mess for me,” he muttered, his own release coiling tightly in his abdomen.

Your cry of ecstasy echoed through the room as you shattered, convulsing beneath him in the throes of an intense climax. Theo rode out your waves of pleasure, prolonging your orgasm with deliberate thrusts.

Just as he was about to crest the peak himself, he abruptly pulled out, leaving you empty and aching. With a few quick strokes, he spilled his seed across your stomach and chest, painting you in his essence.

Theo collapsed beside you on the bed, chest heaving as he caught his breath. After a moment, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side.

"I love you, baby.” He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch soothing as he wiped a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your face. “Let’s clean you up.” And with a flick of his wand, the white fluids covering you were gone.

“Our friends probably think we’re dead by now, you know. We’ve been up here for so long,” you murmured.

“Darling, I’m pretty sure they’re smart enough to know that the screaming coming from up here wasn’t because of ghosts.”

kinktober taglist: @mattheoriddles-slutt @theeslutintheroom @esmerai-artemis @gigival @cloudyyydayzzz @sn000py @abeoavita @yesiamthatwierd @shaquilles-0atmeal @roseofsharron438 @iouinotes @romantasyreader28 @c3liaaaaa @daenerystorgaryen @emma-grace0 @tori-303 @ilovehpb0ys

[babyleostuff]

― FIRST SNOW

there is a superstition that if you witness the first snowfall with the person you like, true love will blossom between both and it will be long-lasting.

𝜗𝜚 THEME: fluff, cuddly and in love love gyu 𝜗𝜚 PAIRING: idol!mingyu x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT: 518

💌 natalia’s note: ik it may be a bit early for winter fics but recently we had first snow in poland and i just had this urge to write something about it [edit: and now korea also had its first snow so yippie]

“look!” 

you hummed and nodded weakly, though instead of opening your eyes you snuggled further into mingyu's warm chest, basking in the softness of his sweater and the steady beat of his heart underneath your ear. 

days off were the best. 

“baby,” your boyfriend murmured excitedly against your temple and ran his cold finger along your cheek. “it’s snowing!” 

with mingyu’s arm holding your waist in a tight grip; not that you complained, the afternoon teddy bear cuddles, especially in the colder weather were the best, it was a bit difficult for you to actually move to see the supposed snow. 

“it’s so pretty,” he said in awe, as if it was his first time seeing it. “look, look!” he said and pointed at the window that was behind you.

“gyu?” you mumbled and propped yourself on his chest as much as you could. “i’d really love to see it, but you’re holding me hostage and my neck is too sore to turn it all the way around”. 

mingyu’s eyes widened, and a small pout appeared on his face. “oh shit, right. sorry.”

you cupped his chin and placed a kiss at the tip of his nose. "'s okay," you said, before sitting all the way up and turning around towards the window.

and your boyfriend was right. even though your view of the city below was very blurry due to mingyu's apartment being on a high floor, you could still imagine how pretty the streets must look now, covered in the white fluff. 

“i can’t wait to beat your ass in a snowball fight,” you said and turned back to your boyfriend. 

you weren’t sure if it was due to the bad lightning, since mingyu insisted on turning all the lights off and lightning some candles, but you could’ve sworn he was blushing, but before you could ask him about that he took a hold of your hand and pulled you back to his chest. 

“you know what the first snow means, right?” he asked after a beat of silence. 

nodding, you couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on your face. 

“we’ve been together for five years, gyu. i don’t think that superstition counts for us anymore.” 

he hummed and nuzzled his cheek against the top of your head. “maybe,” he said. “but i like to believe that every first snowfall we witness in this life will allow us to meet our next ones,” you felt his hand brush the hair from your neck in a gentle manner, “and i hope to witness as many of them as we can.” 

not really knowing what to say, because who the hell says things like that, you lifted your head from the crook of mingyu’s neck and looked at his ruffled dark hair and shiny brown eyes that were looking at you with more love than it should be legal. 

“you’re impossible, kim mingyu,” you shook your head with a laugh. 

all you got in response was an irresistibly devastating grin, before he leaned in and sealed your lips in a kiss that could melt any amount of snow.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot  @iamawkwardandshy  @icyminghao @heeseungthel0ml @goyangiiwonu @bath1lda @ruurooozz @ny0sang @luuxian @onerubii  @hurrican3-insert-nam3 @mekuiikore @luvseungcheol @thenotoriousegg @yuuyeonie @soffiyuhh @svtficsarchive @hyperdramas @huen1ngk41 @lesuneczka @oc3anfloor @gyuguys @fr-freak @bewoyewo

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Biology

JK Rowling: hello children Rowling: i am born again! hallelujah! Rowling: tell me Rowling: have you heard Rowling: the good word about biology? Poe: what Poe: what is this now?

Rowling: on the Scottish census, i answered that my religion is "biology" Poe: King: Koontz: Lovecraft: Barker: damnnnn Barker: that's real edgy

Mary Shelley: sup fuckers? Poe: joanne says her religion is biology Shelley: haha yes... YES!!! Poe: yes? Shelley: Yes! that's right, fuckers! Shelley: throw out the false morality of religion!! embrace soulless science!

Shelley: finally! The pure, terrifying light of science burns away the shadows of superstition! Shelley: unencumbered by the false morality of so-called religion, mankind can tamper, unimpeded, in God's domain! Shelley: we can make SO many abominations! Shelley: i fuckin' love it!

Rowling: no that iss the oppossite of what i'm trying to ssay Shelley: that's cuz you're weak Shelley: we're attack and dethrone God, fuckers!!

Rowling: that iss not what i meant! Rowling: i meant i hate transs people Shelley: yeah i know what you meant Shelley: i don't give a shit Shelley: my idea is way cooler Barker: yeah she's right that is way cooler

Rowling: no! my religion of biology is actually ANTI-abomination Rowling: i think abominationss are bad Rowling: i'm against them! all of them! Barker: and what abominations are these? Rowling: you know Rowling: transs, fat people, and toiletsss Barker: ya know what, you've lost me

Shelley: abominations are so hot right now Shelley: i'm really into them Barker: not gonna lie i'm actually pretty excited about these abominations now

Koontz: gosh i don't know about all this Shelley: dean what if you made a dog that was SO big Koontz: so big? Shelley: yeah like SO big uh Shelley: so big you needed 2 hands to pet it Koontz: wow! Koontz: that's a big dog! Koontz: that's so big you'd better lead, follow, or get out of the way!

Rowling: thatss the problem with you lot Rowling: alwaysss sso busssy thinking about how to make a big dog, you don't ssstop to think whether you SHOULD make a big dog

[multicohn]

summary: the only thought lando had once the race was ended finding his partner ( and his family )

warnings: mentions of throwing up and the word d**k. one swear word. just wrote and posted

pairing: gn! reader x lando norris

genre: established relationship, fluff

author note: congrats to mclaren on winning! wish oscar had finished a bit higher, but guess we’ll see what happens next year

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

y/n can’t decide if they’re going to throw up, faint, or have a heart attack.

even though he stayed first, they still worried about what could possibly happen. what if lando crashed? what if a safety car was brought out? so many thoughts clouded their mind, but they wouldn’t get any answers unless it happened.

in times like these is when they wish they could see into the future.

lando had been quiet upset once he knew that first place in the drivers championship was over, but he was able to get over it by focussing on finishing second and aiming to win the constructors.

“this is like the worst two hours of my life” they mumbled while standing next to lando’s dad

“tell me about it” he was currently on his third bottle of water and y/n knew he would soon needed a fourth

lap after lap after lap.

the gap between lando and carlos was slowly getting further as they got closer to the end, but y/n couldn’t push their nerves away just yet.

they learned that nothing is certain until that checkered flag is waved.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

that might have been the worst two hours of y/n’s life.

they clutched as their chest as lando made his way towards the finish line. most of those in the garage ran out to the fence while everyone else shared hugs with teary eyes. y/n leaned against the wall before slowly following lando’s father out of the garage.

y/n patiently waited for lando who made sure he shook his hands or hugged everyone that was dressed in papaya orange. they adjusted their cap as he finally made spotted his dad who had a huge grin on his face.

he was flung into a bone crushing hug with whispers of supportive words. lando smiled with teary eyes before moving towards his partner who had looked away in respect for their privacy.

"y/n!" he called out, ignoring all the cameras that were around

"hi, honey" he embraced them tightly, feeling their hands rub and pat his back

"you did it! you fucking did it!" lando leaned away and stared into their eyes with such love and softness that no one has ever seen from him before

maybe it was a superstition, but lando always did better when y/n was around. he named them his lucky charm since he always received top results because of their presence. even when y/n wasn't with in person, he always carried something that reminded him of them.

lando had fallen in love, and it was obvious to everyone how much he adored y/n.

"i need to ask you something" his words were rushed since he knew they might not be together until later

"what's up?"

lando's dad raised an eyebrow as he watched his son take a deep breath.

"will you marry me?"

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

y/n had a lot to think about.

lando had been rushed away once he asked them to marry him, but quickly comforted them that they didn't have to answer him right away.

if y/n was shocked, his family was even more shocked.

they adored y/n and knew how much lando loved them, but they never would've thought he would pull something like this out of the blue.

hours passed since they last saw each other.

parties were thrown to not only congratulate him and the team, but also for everyone else. there were ones for ferrari, red bull, alpine, and all the drivers that will not be on the grid next year. y/n wasn't feeling up to partying so they went back to the hotel room they shared with lando.

he had texted them to ask what they wanted to do before sending a long paragraph that explained he had wanted to ask for their hand in marriage for awhile, but the timing was never right. he swore he would have asked even they didn't win today.

y/n had imagined how they would be proposed to and what their wedding would be like long before they started dating lando, but now being in a situation where it will come true left them breathless.

of course y/n would marry lando, but they were so in shock that they couldn't say or type anything.

"n/n?" y/n turned around to see lando in the clothes he had worn into the paddock along with an almost empty champagne bottle and his trophy

"i didn't hear you come in" he placed his things down and walked over to them while searching his pockets

a ring was soon in gasp and y/n only stared as he got on one knee before taking their hand.

"you know, i had a huge speech planned, but now i can't remember any of it, give me a sec" he cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and finally looked into their eyes

"y/n. words can't even begin to describe the love i feel for you. ever since we met, i feel like my world had gotten brighter. i know i can be a dick sometimes, and i'm so sorry for letting my emotions get the best of me sometimes. i honestly don't know how you've stuck with me through all of this. but i can never be more thankful and i can nor do i want to imagine what my life could be without you. through sickness and in health, though death will never make us part. will you do me in the honour of being called your fiancé and future husband?"

y/n sniffled with tears in their eyes, they knew they wouldn't be able to get any words out so they just nodded. lando slipped the ring onto their finger, grateful that it fit before reaching up to hug them tightly.

"i love you" he whispered

"i love you too" y/n managed to say through their sobs

not only did lando win first and helped his team take the constructors championship, but he also won the heart of his partner forever.

[priceyprice]

Simon is not a believer.

He doesn't believe in things like the earth is flat, aliens are green with antlers, superstitions, and other things. He doesn't believe in angels, demons, myths like greek mythology or spirits —instead of ghosts, he believes that spirits are a form of energy and not just a white silhouette of a person—, he's not of a much believer of anything. He hardly has emotions, years of shutting down everything he felt since all his trajectory and his dark past, so there's no way he believes in something.

Oh, that's until he saw her.

The moment he saw her, the thought of not believing in angels was vanished like the thin smoke of a cigarette.

She was standing in front of him, introducing herself like the new member of the team with her sweet voice that sounded like honey dripping from her soft lips. Her face was soft and delicate, something he had never seen before. When she extended her hand for a handshake, the soft texture of her almost melted him on the spot. How can she be a sergeant with that delicate face? How can she kill on the battlefield with those soft hands?

She was a true angel.

A few weeks later, when they were on a mission, Simon realized how much he underestimated her.

She could kill like a demon.

She could kill anyone in matter of seconds. There was no remorse or sympathy behind those pretty eyes the second she stepped into battleground.

Now, Simon believes in angels and demons.

Almost a year later, when Simon finally was in a relationship with her, he discovered other beliefs.

His room was filled with soft moans, whimpers, and the sound of the bed creaking. His hands were on her waist as hers were on his broad shoulders. He was sitting on the edge of the bed while she was on top of him riding him like her life depended on it.

Their kisses were messy and sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, not caring of anyone who would pass in front of the room, abusing of his power as they know no one will snitch on the lieutenant.

Her hands roamed down to his chest, taking him by surprise when she pushed him down so he was lying completely on his bed. His eyes found hers, confused about why she used all that force on him, thinking maybe she didn't wanna do it anymore.

Before he could process what was happening again, she started to ride him again faster. A low growl formed on her throat.

Simon hissed and closed his eyes for a second. "Fuck... you're too fast."

"I don't care." She answered, almost sounding like a whimper.

His hands flew to her hips, and he opened his eyes, only to found the most perfect view he could ever had.

Her hair was disheveled, his impatient hands taking the blame for all her strands in different directions. Her expression was contorted to one of pure ecstasy and a few rebel strands of hair and droplets of sweat adorning her forehead. Her skin was glowing like the morning sun rising up behind the mountains. Her hips moved like the waves on a night with a full moon. Her soft skin against his was like the clouds adorning the very blue sky.

That's when Simon came to the realization that he believed in something more.

In goddesses.

She looked like a total goddess trying to search for her release, panting and sweating, up and down, using him for reaching that state of pure bliss.

When they finished, they lay down on his bed, hugging each other without saying anything. Skin red and sweaty, covers dirty and wrinkled, room smelling like sex and their scents. They didn't care as long as they were embracing each other and forgetting about the world after his room door.

At that moment, Simon started to believe in something else.

Heaven.

As much as he wanted to avoid the bitter events, he couldn't simply do it. One day, on a mission trying to find a gang leader and a human trafficker, they kidnapped his lover. Leaving no trace behind to have a clue and save her.

The way his heart fell from his chest was worse than any other things he had experienced in life. Those gang members took away his reason to live, his reason to breathe, his reason to love.

Simon discovered another belief that day.

Hell.

And he will bring hell to every person who touched even a single strand of hair from his lover.

He will bring the devil himself just to save her.

[Part 1 here]

[Part 3 here]

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

[thisismeracing]

Heartdresser | LH44

― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x braider!reader ― Warning: mentions of a brother, social media au mixed with regular writing, tooth-rotting fluff, fem!reader (she/her); - 2.8k words + social media setting. ― Summary: When Lewis finds himself just a couple days away from a racing weekend and without his usual braids he desperately searches for suggestions of available hairdressers in the area. As the saying goes, love can come from the most unexpected places, and Lewis is about to discover that this is, in fact, true. (based on this request)

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Being a Formula One Driver had its perks, from obvious and big things such as traveling everywhere to not-so-obvious and small things like having your hair stylist travel to you when you needed them. After becoming an adult and famous, it took Lewis a couple of years to come to terms with his hair, how to style it, how to take care of it, and how to embrace the texture and volume. He felt finally whole when he reached that point, one where meaningless comments on the internet wouldn’t make him rethink his path, goals, and achievements. Of course, comments hurt, but being comfortable with yourself helped, and that was something Lewis learned. 

Now, his braids were part of him. The hairstyle being associated with his image in the blink of an eye. Something that made him feel handsome, and connected with his roots. Something that seemed to help other young black boys around, who started to see themselves as stylish and handsome too.

That’s the main reason why he was so frustrated when his braider called him to tell them they couldn’t make it to Las Vegas. And the thing with braids is that it's not only a style that connects you to your roots, and makes you feel comfortable, it is also a hair protection style. Though Lewis doesn’t tell people he has superstitions and somehow it is true, part of him feels like he races better when he’s feeling himself in all senses of the word. This means having his hair in the braids he’s been looking forward to for over two weeks is something important to him.

So in the heat of the moment, he decides to look for help on Twitter.

“Hi, you must be Lewis,” you smile, extending your hands, and the man in front of you takes it in with a grin. 

“Hey, good afternoon,” his grip is still thigh yet soft on your hand. “Yeah, it’s me. Thank you for having me on such short notice.” He’s handsome and polite in all the ways one should be to be considered perfect, and you start to understand why your baby brother was drawn to admire his persona outside the tracks. 

You shake your head with a chuckle, “It was actually my day off, but I had no problem fitting you in since it meant Dee would get to meet you.”

“Oh- honesty is something I find hot,” he chuckles and adds a grin for good measure, all while looking straight into your eyes and you can’t help but laugh.

Add funny to the list of things Lewis Hamilton seems to be. 

“Who’s Dee, by the way?” 

“It’s Aiyden, my little brother. I call him Dee,” you explain before adding, “He’s finishing a Chemistry project with a few friends at school. He was tempted to skip but gave up after a pep talk on how school is important, and I would take forever doing your hair just so he could see you.” 

Lewis nods while you explain, and then he’s chuckling just like minutes ago. 

“I don’t mind waiting for him with you,” he winks.

You’re not sure if he’s being friendly, funny, or flirty, but any of these F words coming from the black guy in front of you are surely making your heart skip a beat. 

“You can sit here while I grab everything,” you point to a chair in front of a big mirror and Lewis does as said. 

“Your hair looks fire,” he comments, watching from the mirror while you go through the small saloon gathering the packs of hair and combs you would need. “Did you do it yourself?” 

“Thanks,” you stop just for a second, smiling when your eyes meet. “And yeah, I did it just last weekend.”

“You look even more stunning with this style,” and just like that he has you giggling again. “I mean it. I saw your profile picture and I was convinced you couldn’t get more beautiful, and then you opened that door with a smile and these amazing braids and I was like wow.” “You’re a funny one.”

“I’ve heard some women like their man funny, is that your case? If so, I’m ready to get into stand-up comedy.” 

You double with laughter, shaking your head and biting your lips to keep the funny noises inside.

“Same style you’ve sent me the picture?” Lewis nods. “Any addition or preference?” you ask, starting to section his hair, and he answers no while making himself comfortable on the chair.

And even though you joked about taking forever just so your brother would catch Lewis, you ended up really taking forever because the driver in front of you would joke around and give you flirty comments and you couldn’t help but stop to laugh. The style he wanted was fairly fast, and his curls weren’t that thick, but still, you two did a small snack break when he ordered from a vegan bakery downtown. He was a fun guy to talk to, you came to learn that pretty quickly, which only added to his face card, which certainly was never denied. 

It was one of the best sessions you’ve had in a long time.

You were just finishing the final touches, adding water to boil, and cutting the small strands coming off the braids, when the bell over the door rang, announcing your little brother’s arrival. He has an incredulous expression on his face watching his idol sitting on the chair of his sister’s salon. 

“Hey man, how was the chem’s project?” Lewis asks and Aiyden turns around to the door, doing a small victory dance and, probably, the most hideous expressions to conceal his eagerness and happiness. 

You and Lewis laugh.

“Omg, hi, Lewis!” He finally walks to you, shaking hands with Lewis. His eyes – big orbs gleaming with excitement. 

“Aren’t you gonna say hi to your sister, young man?” with your hands on your waist you furrow your brows in the direction of the curly-haired boy who smiles, engulfing your body in a big hug. You hug him back before tapping his back and fake complaining about how he was crushing you. 

Aiyden had just turned fifteen, but his love for sports seemed to help him defy your DNA and grow more than your family’s average size. He was almost reaching your height, and he sure was stronger than you, but he was still just your baby boy. 

“These new braids are lit, man! Told ya my sister would make it happen,” Ayiden, who still has one of his arms around your shoulders, tells Lewis with a proud smile.

The driver moves his head confidently checking his hair in the mirror, “She was a great braider, and even better company, to be honest.” 

Yn rolls her eyes playfully before going back to the water and mentioning for Ayiden to take a step back. She dips the ends of the braids into the water, waiting for a bit before taking them off and draping a towel around Lewis’ broad shoulders. 

“So, your sister mentioned a chem school project. How was it?” 

And just like that Ayiden and Lewis are talking non-stop while you tidy the salon, watching their interaction with a fond smile. The Brit was attentive to your brother, always ready to listen rather than speak, always engaging, and making Ayiden feel comfortable to share whatever he wanted to. 

He probably had no idea, but that was an easy way to get to your heart. Ayiden was your treasure, and the fact that Lewis was treating the boy as if he was his little treasure too only added to the list of things you found amazing about him.

“...right, Yn?” Dee asked and you snapped out of your daydream.

“What?”

“Lewis just invited us to the Vegas GP, I said we were going, right? Please, please, please,” he pleaded in front of you with his two hands together as if in prayer, and you bit the inside of your mouth.

“Sunday?” 

“No, the whole package, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday!” he explained excitedly.

“It will be fun, c’mon,” Lewis tried.

“You have school on Friday.” You reasoned, but Ayiden was quick to explain that Friday wouldn’t be until 6 pm. “You’re the one asking Kali to get my appointments from Saturday,” pointing a finger to your brother you accepted, knowing that your friend and coworker, had a space on Saturday for a hair or two and wouldn’t mind covering so your clients wouldn’t be hanging out to dry. Still, she would probably huff and yapp before accepting. That was something that Ayiden would now deal with though, so you were all good. 

Ayiden jumped up and down the same way he did when he was ten years old asking you to get him a new pair of soccer jerseys, and you accepted. It was endearing.

You talked for a few more minutes, Ayiden got his picture, and just like that Lewis was saying his farewells. This time he didn’t shake your hands, rather hugged you and you couldn’t help but breathe in his scent and relish his warmth.

“See you on Friday, guys,” he waved, showing off his perfect set of teeth. 

“See you, man!” 

yourinstagram

liked by lewishamilton, youngdee, and others

yourinstagram had to drive the kiddo to school today or else he would stay home choosing his weekend outfits lol (traffic is a bitch btw, so if you can avoid downtown, pls do!)

view all comments

youngdee why would you expose me like that

⤷ yourinstagram I'm your older sister, ofc I'm gonna act like a mom ❤️😘

lewishamilton nice fit, ayideen!

⤷ youngdee thank you, man! 😎

⤷ fan4490 OMG KJSDKGJSKG

charleslechair she looks so cute

⤷ charleslechair scratch that I just went through her pics

⤷ charleslechair she's hot

⤷ charleslechair and super talented

wolffmickey so its confirmed, she's the braider?

schumachinho *on my knees begging* pls, do my hair too, yn, pls pls 🧎🏾‍♀️🧎🏾‍♀️

yourfriend I spent an hour on traffic today in a road that usually takes me about ten minutes 🫠

yourfriend2 bruh, ayideen is getting bigger and bigger, I feel OLD 😭

Friday rolled around quickly and you got to watch the total amount of fifteen minutes of practice 1 before all hell broke. Ayiden explained everything to you along with the whole controversy going on with the LA Gran Prix, which you were just a tad aware of. Lewis wasn’t able to spend much time with you guys that much was expected, but whenever he found a few seconds he would pass by, ask if you guys were ok, if Dee was having fun if there was something he could do, and just overall being the goofy Lewis he was during the appointment. Ayiden seemed to find the flirtatious glances and lines funny, and so did you, except this time it felt a little more real because you were sure a few people around overheard some. 

It was an amazing night, you made friends with a couple of people from the crew, and Ayiden had the time of his life meeting a few other idols, and almost started hyperventilating when Hamilton told him he would take him to meet Charles Leclerc on Sunday. 

Saturday was even more of a rush, you almost didn’t see Lewis, but he texted before and after quali. So when Sunday came you were still trying to navigate the whole paddock thing, but a bit more comfortable about it. Aiyden was still acting as if it was his own version of Disney land and it was his first day discovering the adventure world. You were loving it for him, of course. 

“Nice outfit,” Lewis whispers right beside you, catching you off guard and making you jump in surprise. You were in a corner, just texting a friend, and checking your next few appointments while Ayiden went to meet Charles and you thought Lewis would be there until he came back, but it wasn’t the case.

“You’re sneaky,” you chuckled, straightening your instance and looking into his face only to notice he was already staring at you. 

“You look cute when you’re focused,” he winks, before adding, “and when you’re scared too.” 

“You look cute when you joke like this,” throwing back at him you didn’t expect for his brows to furrow in confusion. 

“You think I’m joking?” 

“Aren’t you?” 

Lewis giggles. He giggles and you can’t help but smile with the sound and the way his lips part while his eyes squint. “I’m not.”

“You’re not?!” 

“I think you’re pretty and smart, and talented. I was genuinely flirting with you,” his explanation makes your insides turn in giddiness, and as if it wasn’t enough Lewis smiles, eyes glued on yours before he asks: “Wanna go on a date with me?” 

“A date?” You repeat trying to let the idea sink. 

“A date?” This time it’s Ayiden’s voice and you turn alarmed, expecting to see a confused and jealous brother, only to find him with the biggest grin ever.

“Yeah, a date,” Lewis smiles briefly to Ayiden, before staring back at you, waiting for your answer.

You blink still unsure. Fair enough, he was hot, educated, smart, and he checked all the boxes, but that wasn’t any guarantee of a successful relationship, or fling, or whatever he had in mind. And also, his lifestyle wasn’t something you were used to. How would dating him work when he’s often traveling around to drive?

“C’mon, don’t overthink it, Yn.” Ayiden comes to help, standing beside Lewis and the Brit chuckles. “It’s THE SIR Lewis Hamilton,” he points, and this time Lewis laughs. 

You bit your lips, not helping but letting a smile escape. 

Lewis is in front of you, hands in his pockets, big brown eyes watching you, and the smallest smile gracing the corner of his plump lips. He looked great. And as much as you wanted to deny, there was a vibe going on. 

You take a deep breath, smirking at him, “Get yourself a podium and we’ll talk about a date later.”  

Ayiden’s eyes widened. 

“Did you forget how quali went?! It’s gonna be hell to get a podium, almost impossible,” your brother tries to reason, but Lewis shakes his head, extending his hand to which you clasp in yours.

“Deal,” the driver smiles. “I’ll get you a podium.”

Lewis squeezes Ayiden’s shoulder and winks at you before disappearing into the garage to get ready for the race.

“One more reason why he’s the goat, see? If I were you I would go on a date with him even if he didn’t get a podium.” 

You laugh, “For the few things I saw, he likes the challenge. Let me indulge him.” 

“You’re crazy.”

“And he’ll get a podium.” 

“It’s very unlikely, but I won’t deny the possibility. It’s Lewis after all.” Your brother leans on the wall beside you. “And it looks like he wants this date bad.” 

“What makes you think this?” 

“C’mon, he’s been flirting with you nonstop since the hair appointment.” 

“I genuinely thought he was joking.” 

“You can be so clueless sometimes,” your brother rolls his eyes playfully and you slap the back of his head. 

“Watch it, young man, I’m still the oldest.” 

And you were still right too, because hours later Lewis impressed everyone by getting third place. He kept everyone on the edge of their seats along with Charles who did a brilliant race, and just like that your brother was grinning devilishly your way because now you had a date with no one other than Lewis Hamilton who happened to walk into the garage just as you were handling a water bottle to Dee after he ran to watch the ceremony as if his life depended on it.

Lewis was smiling brightly at you, sweat mixed with champagne, but you couldn’t help but grin right back and lace your arms around him, taking him by surprise. 

“I’m all sweaty, sorry,” he whispers, his tattooed hand flatting on your bag and bringing your body closer. 

“It’s fine. Congrats on the race.” 

“Congrats on the race, man!” Ayiden hugs him too and Lewis smiles, eyes still trapped on you. When your brother lets him go and stays rooted in place looking from you to Lewis you trap the laugh inside, and roll your eyes fakely, pointing for the young boy to give you both some privacy.

“So, looks like I scored myself a date, huh?” 

You nod, taking a small step in his direction and trying to keep your hands from tracing all the small details on his face from this up close, “You sure did.” Your eyes were now on his lips, and Lewis grinned. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“You already have a date, what else do you wanna ask me?” You’re teasing and he knows it because this time he’s the one to take a step in your direction. The tips of your shoes are touching, and you can hear the rustling outside, but it’s just you two in the corridor, and you hope it stays like this for just a little longer even though you knew he had an interview in a few minutes. His company and attention are something you enjoyed having.

“With how many dates do you find it ok to kiss someone?” His playful tone is there, but his expression makes your knees almost buck. “Can we count practice, quali, and the race as dates?” 

And just like that he has you laughing and grabbing his neck to close the distance and smash your lips in a very much-awaited kiss. 

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, lewishamilton, and others

yoursername best date night ever 🤍

comments on this post have been disabled

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this piece! <3 I wanted to add a huge shout-out to C (my coffee emoji anon on Tumblr) for proofreading this (Ily, C!)

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!��

▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @v1naco @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @scorpiobleue @bbreezybitch @graciewrote @soph1644 @leclercsluv @alessioayla @littlesatanicassholebitch @barcelonaloverf1life @noncannonships @fanboyluvr @is-just-a

©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

[fastestmanalive333]

A List of Every Teen Titan Ever (Pre 52 Only)

The Teen Titans [1965-1979]: When the adult heroes were possessed by the evil Antithesis entity, it was up to the teen sidekicks - Robin, Kid Flash, Aqualad, Wonder Girl and Speedy - to band together to save them. Inspired by their success, the adolescent adventurers decided to remain a team - and the Teen Titans were born! Some members left and new ones emerged - even forming a Titans West sub-group. But as the members approached college, the team began to dissolve and eventually disbanded.

1. Dick Grayson [Robin/Nightwing] Joined: Brave and the Bold #60 [1965] When Dick Grayson's trapeze-artist parents were murdered, he was taken in by the Batman and became his junior partner: Robin, the Boy Wonder. As leader of the Teen Titans, Dick emerged from the shadow of his mentor and adopted the costumed identity of Nightwing.

2. Wally West [Kid Flash/Flash] Joined: Brave and the Bold #60 [1965] A bolt of lightning endowed young Wally West with super-speed, enabling him to become Kid Flash, protege to the Flash! When the Flash was slain during a great crisis, Wally became the Flash in honor of his fallen mentor.

3. Garth [Aqualad/Tempest] Joined: Brave and the Bold #60 [1965] Young Garth was abandoned by his own people because of a superstition concerning his unique purple eyes. Befriended by Aquaman, the underwater orphan became his sidekick as Aqualad! Years later, Garth discovered his secret mystic birthright and emerged as the powerful aquatic hero known as Tempest.

4. Donna Troy [Wonder Girl/Troia/Darkstar] Joined: Brave and the Bold #60 [1965] Infant Donna Troy was rescued from a fire and raised by the Titans of Myth, who gifted her with great powers. At age 13, Donna was adopted by the Amazons and became Wonder Girl in honor of her sister, Wonder Woman. Donna later embraced her true Titanic heritage and became the heroine known as Troia.

5. Roy Harper [Speedy/Arsenal/Red Arrow] Joined: Teen Titans #19 [1968], Revealed as founding member in Teen Titans #53 [1978] When Roy Harper's forest ranger father perished in a fire, Green Arrow adopted the young orphan and trained the natural-born archer as his sidekick, Speedy. Roy's time as a government agent exposed him to all manner of weaponry - leading the boy bowman to become an expert marksman as Arsenal. In honor of his mentor, Harper now fights crime as Red Arrow.

6. Lilith Clay Jupiter [Omen] Joined: Teen Titans #25 [1970] Lilith Clay - a mysterious precognitive telepath - long sought the truth behind her own parentage. Lilith later discovered her father was none other than Titans mentor, Loren Jupiter. Upon meeting her mysterious mother, Lilith's powers intensified and she adopted the persona of Omen. Lilith was later tragically killed in battle.

7. Hank Hall [Hawk] Joined: Teen Titans #25 [1970] The Lords of Chaos and Order mysteriously granted powers to teen brothers Hank and Don Hall. Pacifist Don became Dove while aggresive Hank became Hawk - both balancing the scales between might and right. Tragedy later claimed both brothers as Dove was killed in battle while Hawk became the villainous Monarch and later perished.

8. Don Hall [Dove] Joined: Teen Titans #25 [1970] The Lords of Chaos and Order mysteriously granted powers to teen brothers Hank and Don Hall. Pacifist Don became Dove while aggresive Hank became Hawk - both balancing the scales between might and right. Tragedy later claimed both brothers as Dove was killed in battle while Hawk became the villainous Monarch and later perished.

9. Mal Duncan [Vox/Guardian/Hornblower/Herald] Joined: Teen Titans #26 [1970] Streetwise Mal Duncan was invited to join the Titans by Loren Jupiter. Mal later adopted the identity of the Herald when his girlfriend Karen Beecher helped fashion a dimension-opening Gabriel's Horn for him. When a horrible accident fused Mal's sub-sonic weapons to his body, he adopted the name Vox and joined the Doom Patrol.

10. Gnarrk [Pre-Crisis] Joined: Teen Titans #33 [1971] A gentle caveman out of his own time, Gnarrk bonded with Lilith Clay before his tragic death.

11. Duela Dent [Joker's Daughter/Harlequin] [Pre-Crisis] Joined: Teen Titans #46 [1976] Duela Dent - the daughter of Earth-3's heroes, Jokester and Three-Face - developed a maddening identity crisis as she found herself constantly phasing between earths. Initially vexing Robin as The Joker's Daughter, Duela later joined the Teen Titans as Harlequin. A true wild card, demented Duela shuffled between good and evil before being slain by a rogue Monitor agent.

12. Karen Beecher Duncan [Bumblebee] Joined: Teen Titans #48 [1977] Super-smart Karen Beecher created a high-tech Bumblebee suit as part of a ruse to bolster her boyfriend Mal's reputation on the team. As a result, Bumblebee eventually joined the Teen Titans, and later married Mal as well. When exposure to a strange energy shrank her to insect height, Bumblebee joined other freakish heroes as a member of the Doom Patrol.

13. Bette Kane [Bat-Girl/Flamebird] Joined: Teen Titans #50 [1977] as founding member, Titans West An eager Robin fan, tennis pro first Batgirl and founding member of Titans West, it took some time for Bette to finally earn the respect of her Titans teammates

14. Charley Parker [Golden Eagle] Joined: Teen Titans #50 [1977] as founding member, Titans West When teen slacker Charley Parker was mysteriously gifted with Thanagarian battle armor, he thought it would be a good way to earn easy cash as Golden Eagle. Until his death at the hands of the evil Wildebeest Society

15. Garfield Logan [Beast Boy/Changeling] Joined: Teen Titans #50 [1977] as founding member, Titans West Forced to undergo an experimental procedure to save his life, Garfield Logan gained the ability to transform into any sort of animal he could imagine. Green-skinned Garfield found a new family as Beast Boy, a junior member of the Doom Patrol. Beast Boy changed his name to Changeling and later joined the Teen Titans. Known once again as Beast Boy, Gar uses his trademark humor to diffuse the most dire of situations.

Honorary: Tula [Aquagirl] Honorary Member The young orphan Tula was adopted by one the royal families of Atlantis and raised as a princess of Poseidonis. Tula later became Aquagirl when she became romantically involved with Aqualad. Their romance ended tragically when Aquagirl perished during the Crisis of Infinite Earths.

The New Teen Titans [1980-1989]: As the other-wordly demon Trigon threatened to ravage the earth, his mystical daughter Raven gathered a New Teen Titans team to thwart his plans. Former Titans were joined by all-new members and were able to repel Trigon's incursion. The Titans remained a team and grew into adulthood, as many of the teen heroes adopted more adult personas.

16. Raven Joined: DC Comics Presents #26 [1980] Daughter of an earth woman and the demonic Trigon, Raven constantly fights to keep her evil side in check. The empathic mystic sometimes fell to the dark side, but valiantly found her own inner light - oftimes at the expense of her own happiness. Raven later received a second chance at life when she was reborn in a new body.

17. Koriand'r [Starfire] Joined: DC Comics Presents #26 [1980] Young Princess Koriand'r was forced into slavery to save her home planet of Tamaran. Given to the alien Psions for experimentation, Koriand'r acquired solar-channeling abilities that allowed her to blast powerful starfbolts. Once rescued by the Titans, the passionate alien powerhouse - now dubbed Starfire - made earth her second home.

18. Vic Stone [Cyborg/Cyberion] Joined: DC Comics Presents #26 [1980] Once a promising athlete, Vic Stone was severely injured in an explosion, leading his father to save his life through cybernetic implants. A living man-machine, the once-bitter Cyborg learned to accept his new appearance and became a capable hero in his own right.

19. Tara Markov [Terra] Joined: New Teen Titans #30 [1983] Bold and brassy Tara Markov gained earth-manipulating abilities through Markovian scientist Dr. Jace. Adopting the name Terra, the bitter malcontent infiltrated the Titans as a member - while secretly acting as a spy for Deathstroke, the Terminator. After utterly betraying the Titans, Terra's own rage consumed her as she buried herself in a ton of debris.

20. Joseph Wilson [Jericho] Joined: Tales of the Teen Titans #58 [1985] As son of Slade Wilson, Joe Wilson was born with the mutant ability to possess people once he made eye contact. The gentle mute hero known as Jericho joined the Titans despite his familial ties. Long believed slain during an encounter with the Wildebeest Society, Jericho's fractured spirit survived and his body was mystically reborn. The new Vigilante later neutralized the now-insane Jericho by cutting out both his eyes.

Honorary: Kole Weathers [Kole] Honorary Member The gentle crystal spinner Kole Weathers gained powers as a product of her father's bizarre experiments. Kole was rescued by the Titans and grew close to Jericho before her untimely demise in the Crisis on Infinite Earths.

21. Danny Chase Joined: New Teen Titans [2nd] Annual #3 [1987] Telekenetic Danny Chase initially joined with the Titans to rescue his parents, who were government operatives. Danny was dismissed from the Titans because of his immaturity but secretly aided the team as Phantasm, before being slain during the final encounter with the Wildebeest Society.

The New Titans [1990-1996]: As the Titans began to enter their twenties, they dropped the "Teen" and became the New Titans. The team was then thrown into turmoil when the Titans were viciously hunted by the Wildebeest Society. Titans were lost as new allies were found - such as Pantha, Phantasm and Baby Wildebeest. Events became even more complicated when the time-tossed Team Titans from an alternate future emerged. The team remained in flux until Arsenal assembled his own team of Titans after the Zero Hour time crisis. That team soon disbanded.

22. Pantha [X-24, Real Name Unknown] Joined: New Titans #74 [1991] A result of the Wildebeest Society's macabre experiments, shy vet student Rosabelle Mendez was transformed into the were-cat known as Pantha. Suffering amnesia, Pantha long sought the truths behind her origins. Pantha's razor sharp personality was softened when Baby Wildebeest bonded with the ferocious feline as his 'mama.' Pantha and Wildebeest were later tragically killed during the Infinite Crisis.

23. Phantasm [Danny Chase, Souls of Azarath] Joined: New Titans #74 [1991] During the final battle with the Wildebeests, the Souls of Azarath bonded with Arella and Danny Chase to become a true Phantasm. Cold and aloof, the formless telekenetic entity has aided the Titans when needed.

24. Leonid Kovar [Red Star] Joined: New Titans #77 [1991] Leonid Kovar's exposure to a space ship gave him powers - enabling him to become Russia's first young hero as Starfire. Leonid later joined the Titans as Red Star and developed fiery new abilities.

25. Baby Wildebeest Joined: New Titans #85 [1992] The Wildebeest Society's strange experiments led to the creation of an actual Baby Wildebeest. In moments of extreme stress, Baby could transform into a fierce adult Wildebeest creature! Baby quickly bonded with Pantha, who he regarded as his 'mama.' Pantha and Wildebeest were later tragically killed during the Infinite Crisis.

26. Miriam Delgado [Mirage] Joined: first appeared as Team Titan in New Titans #79 [1991] Brazilian Miriam Delgado became the illusion-casting Mirage to repel Lord Chaos' brutal armies. Believing she was from an alternate future, Miri later learned she was implanted with false memories. Mirage left the Titans when she gave birth to her daughter, Julienne.

27. Tara Markov [Terra II ] Joined: first appeared as Team Titan in New Titans #79 [1991] Originating from the underground world of Strata, a young girl was injected with the first Terra's DNA in a mission to protect the earth. But "Tara Markov's" memories became tampered when she became a time-tossed member of the Team Titans. The second Terra feared she was the original Titans' traitor - but ultimately proved her heroism when she sacrificed her life trying to stop Black Adam's worldwide rampage.

28. Dagon [Nightrider] Joined: first appeared as Team Titan in New Titans #79 [1991] Once human, David was transformed into a vampire during one of Lord Chaos' macabre experiments. Adopting the vampiric name of Dagon - and the heroic name of Nightrider - David joined the Team Titans, who helped control his bloodlust. Dagon was erased from time during the Zero Hour time crisis.

29. Charlie Watkins [Killowat] Joined: first appeared as Team Titan in New Titans #79 [1991] Originally a soldier for Lord Chaos, Charlie Watkins realized the error of his ways during an accident with a bank of energy converters. Crackling with electricity, Charlie joined the Team Titans as Killowat! Killowat was erased from time during the Zero Hour time crisis.

30. Carrie Levine [Redwing] Joined: first appeared as Team Titan in New Titans #79 [1991] A mutant born with red wings, Carrie Levine joined the resistance after her parents were slain by Lord Chaos. The avian avenger even became sidekick to the future Nightwing. Redwing was erased from time during the Zero Hour time crisis.

31. Jon Levine [Prestor Jon] Joined: first appeared as Team Titan in New Titans #79 [1991] Brother to Carrie [Redwing] Levine, Jon Levine had the mutant ability to interface with computers. Joining the Teamers after his parents' death, Prestor Jon lost his corporeal form and became a living computer. Prestor Jon was erased from time during the Zero Hour time crisis.

32. Battalion [Real Name Unknown] Joined: first appeared as Team Titan in Team Titans #2 [1992] Battalion became leader to the Team Titans after his own family was brutally slain by Lord Chaos. A self-described "drill sergeant from Hell", battle-worn Battalion trained the Teamers in battle. Battalion was erased from time during the Zero Hour time crisis.

33. Bart Allen [Impulse/Kid Flash] Joined: New Titans #0 [1994] Bart Allen - grandson of the Flash - was born with hyper-velocity and was raised in a virtual reality environment in the far future. Traveling to the past, Bart became the act-before-thinking speedster who was quickly dubbed Impulse. Bart later tried to live down his impulsive ways as Kid Flash when he joined the Teen Titans.

34. Grant Emerson [Damage] Joined: New Titans #0 [1994] The biological son of the original Atom, Grant Emerson was imbued with the DNA of various Golden Age heroes by Vandal Savage. As a teen, Grant's massive energy bursts quickly earned him the name, Damage. After his face was horribly scarred in battle, the troubled teen hero developed a more explosive personality.

35. Kyle Rayner [Green Lantern] Joined: New Titans #116 [1994] Young artist Kyle Rayner was given the last known power ring in the universe and became the newest Green Lantern. As Kyle learned to become a hero, he served as a Titan for a short time.

36. Supergirl [Matrix] Joined: New Titans #121 [1995] A protoplasmic shape-shifter from a pocket universe, Matrix felt most comfortable when she adopted the form of Supergirl. Arsenal invited Supergirl into the ranks of the Titans, where she became a member for a short time.

37. Rose Wilson [Ravager] Joined: New Titans #122 [1995] As daughter to Deathstroke the Terminator, Rose Wilson's ninja-like reflexes were enhanced by flashes of precognition. After mourning her mother's death, Rose was befriended by the Titans. Seeking to reclaim his daughter, Deathstroke brainwashed Rose to become a lethal killer as the new Ravager. After losing her left eye, Ravager broke free from her father and now dispenses her own brand of hard justice.

38. Minion [Jarras Minion] Joined: New Titans #123 [1995] When Jarras Minion's planet of Talyn was destroyed, he escaped using the morphing Omegadrome battlesuit. Raised as a pacifist, Minion was at odds with his desire for revenge. His brief tenure with the Titans taught him a better way to resolve conflicts. After Minion gave the Omegadrome to Cyborg, he returned to the stars.

Teen Titans II [1996-1998]: The second group of Teen Titans were united by a common origin. The sinister H'San Natall alien race produced alien/human half-breeds to act as warrior sleeper agents on Earth. The seedlings - Argent, Risk, Joto and Prysm - were activated on their 16th birthdays. Led by the teenaged Atom, the youths joined under the auspices of former Titans mentor, Loren Jupiter. The team was later joined by Fringe and Captain Marvel Jr. After an outer-space adventure which ended the H'San Natall conflict, the team disbanded.

39. Ray Palmer [Atom] Joined: Teen Titans (second series) #1 [1996] Discovering a fragment of a white dwarf star, scientist Ray Palmer developed technology to grow and shrink as the Atom. When the adult hero was temporarily de-aged to 17 years old by the time villain Extant, he reluctantly joined - and became the leader of - the newest group of Teen Titans.

40. Toni Monetti [Argent] Joined: Teen Titans (second series) #1 [1996] The H'San Natall race produced alien/human hybrids that would be activated with super-human powers on their 16th birthdays. On that day, silver-skinned Toni Monetti learned she had the ability to control bursts of silver plasma energy. Joining the Teen Titans as Argent, Toni evolved from spoiled rich girl to capable heroine.

41. Cody Driscoll [Risk] Joined: Teen Titans (second series) #1 [1996] The H'San Natall race produced alien/human hybrids that would be activated with super-human powers on their 16th birthdays. On that day, Cody 'Risky' Driscoll learned he had fives times the speed, strength and stamina of an average 16 year old. Now dubbed Risk, daredevil Cody joined the Teen Titans. Risk became furious at the world after losing both arms in battle - prompting the teen thrill-seeker to embark on a life of crime.

42. Isaiah Crockett [Joto/Hotspot] Joined: Teen Titans (second series) #1 [1996] The H'San Natall race produced alien/human hybrids that would be activated with super-human powers on their 16th birthdays. On that day, Isaiah Crockett's average middle-class life was shattered when he learned he of his heat-manipulating powers. Taking the name Joto - which is Swahili for 'heat' - Isaiah joined the Teen Titans. Joto later adopted a new codename: Hotspot.

43. Audrey Spears [Prysm] Joined: Teen Titans (second series) #1 [1996] An alien/human hybrid, Prysm grew up as "Audrey Spears" in a virtual reality picture-perfect world based on earth's television shows. The Teen Titans pulled her out and welcomed her into their ranks. Able to absorb and reflect light, Prysm is a force to be reckoned with; But the shy and naïve heroine just wants to fit in.

44. Fringe Joined: Teen Titans (second series) #17 [1998] Abandoned as a child because of his appearance, the man-monster Fringe was raised by an alien H'San Natall entity that became his protector. The monstrous powerhouse was befriended by Prysm and joined the Teen Titans.

45. Freddie Freeman [Captain Marvel, Jr./CM3] Joined: Teen Titans (second series) #17 [1998] Crippled Freddy Freeman can harness a portion of the Shazam power by saying "Captain Marvel." The powerful teen joined the Teen Titans and developed a crush on Argent. Since then, Captain Marvel Jr. has aided the Titans when called.

The Titans [1998-2003]: After rescuing Cyborg from alien programming, the original five Titans decided to reform as a team and welcomed five other members into their ranks. The team confronted the anti-Titans group Tartarus, a new H.I.V.E, Dark Angel and a mysterious group of D.E.O. Orphans. But when Troia and Omen were seemingly slain by a rogue Superman Android, the Titans and Young Justice were so distraught that both teams died that day. Meanwhile, on the West Coast, Beast Boy and Flamebird tried to jump-start a new Titans team known as Titans L.A. - but lack of dedication put an end to the team before it truly began.

46. Jesse Chambers [Jesse Quick] Joined: Titans Secret Files #1 [1999] Jesse Chambers - daughter of Liberty Belle and Jonny Quick - inherited super-powers from her meta-human parents. Able to access super-speed powers with a phrase, Jesse became the heroine known as Jesse Quick. After losing her super-speed powers, Jesse adopted her mother's persona as the new Liberty Belle.

47. 'Hero' Cruz ['Hero'] Joined: Titans Secret Files #2 [2000] as a member of Titans L.A. On an adventure with Superboy and the Ravers, teenager 'Hero' Cruz stole the mystical H-dial from the villainous Scavanger. By dialing H-E-R-O, Hero becomes a different super-powered guise on each mission. The openly gay teenage hero joined the short-lived Titans L.A. Branch before its rapid dissolution.

48. Ryuko Orsono [Bushido] Joined: Titans Secret Files #2 [2000] as a member of Titans L.A. Japanese teenager Ryuko Orsono became the proud Bushido warrior upon his mother's death - fulfilling a long family line of honorable heroes. Bushido briefly joined the short-lived Titans L.A. Branch before his death during the Infinite Crisis.

Teen Titans III [2003-present]: Deciding the next generation of super-heroes needed a place to go, Cyborg, Starfire and Beast Boy created a new Titans Tower headquarters in San Francisco. Joined by Robin III, Superboy, Wonder Girl II and Kid Flash II, they became the latest version of Teen Titans! After Superboy's death during the Infinite Crisis, the team was thrown in turmoil and faced a year of turbulent membership changes. The team remained in constant upheaval until Robin returned and reorganized the Titans into a team, welcoming new members Ravager, Kid Devil, Miss Martian, and Blue Beetle.

49. Tim Drake [Robin III] Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #1 [2003] Tim Drake learned the secret identity of Batman and petitioned to become the new Robin. At first reluctant, Batman eventually conceded and trained Tim to become the newest Boy Wonder.

50. Conner Kent [Superboy] Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #1 [2003] In an attempt to clone Superman, Cadmus Labs combined the Kryptonian DNA of Superman with the human DNA of Lex Luthor. The impetuous clone escaped the lab and later became known as the hero, Superboy. The Teen of Steel later was welcomed to live in Smallville as "Conner Kent" and joined the Teen Titans while he came to grips with his true lineage.

51. Cassie Sandsmark [Wondergirl II] Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #1 [2003] Upon meeting Wonder Woman, teenaged Cassie Sandsmark petitioned Zeus for powers of her own. Little did Cassie know that her true father was Zeus himself! Blessed with powers from the gods, Cassie became Wonder Girl, despite her mother's objections. As Wonder Girl, Cassie has matured from gawky adventurer to self-assured heroine.

52. Mia Dearden [Speedy II] Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #21 [2005] Tough-as-nails Mia Dearden was rescued from a life on the streets by Green Arrow. But Mia's past came back to haunt her when she was diagnosed as H.I.V. Positive. Resolved to make a difference, Mia became the newest arrow-slinging heroine as Speedy, sidekick to Green Arrow.

53. Eddie "Gopher" Bloomberg [Kid Devil/Red Devil] Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #34 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" ; Edward "Gopher" Bloomberg grew to idolize stuntman Dan Cassidy while working for his aunt's film company. When Dan was magically transformed into Blue Devil, Gopher fashioned his own high-tech super-suit to become Kid Devil, Blue Devil's (unwanted) kid sidekick. Eddie later made a dangerous deal with the devilish trickster, Neron, who transformed him into a honest-to-gosh red-skinned Kid Devil. After proving his mettle with the Teen Titans, Eddie beagn calling himself Red Devil.

54. M'gann M'orzz [Miss Martian ] Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #34 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" M'gann M'orzz is an anomoly among her conquering White Martian race; The shape-shifting teen alien rejected her people and found her way to earth. Once there, she modeled herself after the the Justice League's Martian Manhunter as Miss Martian. Adopting the earth name "Megan Morse," the sensitive heroine strives to use her powers for good.

55. Dawn Granger [Dove II] Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #34 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" The Lords of Chaos and Order originally granted powers to teen brothers Hank and Don Hall. When the first Dove was killed, his powers transferred to the pragmatic Dawn Granger. As Dove II, Dawn sought out Hawk to became an effective crime-fighting duo until Hawk became corrupted by chaos. Dove II returned from near-death to find a new Hawk in her sister, Holly.

56. Holly Granger [Hawk III] Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #34 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" The Lords of Chaos and Order originally granted powers to teen brothers Hank and Don Hall - who were both lost in battle. Now, two sisters wield those same mystical powers - pragmatic Dawn Granger as Dove and her rebellious sister, Holly, as Hawk.

57. Lorena Marquez [Aquagirl II] Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #34 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" ; After a genetic anomaly was introduced to the San Diego water supply, the California city sunk into the ocean. Teenager Lorena Marquez soon discovered that her body had been altered to survive the ocean depths. It wasn't long before out-spoken Lorena allied with Aquaman as the newest Aquagirl.

58. Zachary Zatara Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #34 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" As cousin to Zatanna and nephew to the late Zatara, Zachary Zatara had magic in his blood. The teen magician learned that to be true when his latent magic powers sparked as a new age of magic dawned. Now, the spoiled teen magician can get whatever he wants with a simple backwards-speaking incantation.

59. Ernie O'Brian [Offspring] Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #34 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" As son of Plastic Man, Luke O'Brian inherited super-stretching powers of his own. Taking the name Offspring, Luke's exploits mix humor and heroism, much like his father. Despite his infectious sense of humor, Offspring wants to prove to the world that he's not just a walking punchline.

60. Amon Tomaz [Osiris] Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #38 [2006]: Revealed as member during "missing year" When Amon Tomaz was severely beaten and crippled by the criminal cartel known as Intergang, Black Adam gifted the Egyptian teen with a portion of his magical abilities. Taking the name Osiris, Amon summoned the power of the gods by speaking "Black Adam." Tragically, Osiris was later devoured by his "friend", the lizard-creature known as Sobek.

60. Power Boy Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #38 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" Raised on the hellish world of Apokolips, a power-enhanced boy learned his superhuman abilities were fueled by the emotions of others. Originally an agent of Darkseid, the teen abandoned the demonic despot when he fell in love with Supergirl. Assuming the name “Power Boy,” he became a Teen Titan only to be slain in battle.

61. Little Barda Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #38 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" Hailing from the brutal world of Apokolips, Little Barda made her way to earth and joined the Teen Titans for a brief time.

62. Amy Allen [Bombshell] Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #38 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" Facing jail, small-time criminal Amy Allen was recruited into a rogue military black ops unit. Grafted with extra-terrestrial metal and given military training, Amy was transformed into the quantum-wielding powerhouse known as Bombshell. Reckless as her namesake, Bombshell is learning to keep explosive personality in check.

63. Mas Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #38 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" Mas Y Menos are a pair of hyper-active high-speed twins. When connected by holding hands, the Spanish-speaking heroes can reach super-sonic speeds! But knock them apart, and they are just normal teenage boys.

64. Menos Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #38 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" Mas Y Menos are a pair of hyper-active high-speed twins. When connected by holding hands, the Spanish-speaking heroes can reach super-sonic speeds! But knock them apart, and they are just normal teenage boys.

65. Riddler's Daughter/Enimga Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #38 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" Fancying herself the "Riddler's Daughter," the inquisitive teen briefly joined the Teen Titans. After changing her name to Enigma, she defected to join Deathstroke's nefarious Titans East. Her true parentage and history are as puzzling as her namesakes.

66. Talon Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #38 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" On the parallel world known as Earth-3, evil versions of the Justice League use their human abilities to terrorize the planet. As an evil analogue to Batman, Owlman likewise adopted a young Robin-like sidekick named Talon. After Talon betrayed his mentor by falling in love with Joker's Daughter, he fled Earth-3 for another earth.

67. Molecule Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #38 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" The super-shrinking adventurer known as Molecule joined the Teen Titans for a short time after the events of Infinite Crisis. Molecule was later murdered by the Terror Titans.

68. Young Frankenstein Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #38 [2006]; Revealed as member during "missing year" The teenaged man-monster known as Young Frankenstein joined the Teen Titans for a short time after the events of Infinite Crisis. The creature's heroism later led to his death at the hands of Black Adam. But a bolt of lightning revived the behemoth - and Young Frankenstein was free to walk the earth once more.

69. Anima Joined: Teen Titans East Special #1 [2007] A bite from an alien parasite utterly transformed runaway teenager Courtney Mason - allowing her to channel the Animus, a living embodiment of mankind's rage. Courtney then became the wandering heroine known as Anima, helping those in need by calling upon the fearsome force inside her. Anima was later slain while battling Prometheus.

70. Son of Vulcan Joined: Teen Titans East Special #1 [2007] Shortly after Vulcan recruited orphan Miguel "Mikey" Devante as his sidekick, the flame-wielding hero was slain by an evil White Martian. Before he died, Vulcan gifted his fire-based powers to Mikey and equipped the inexperienced hero with an arsenal of weaponry. In honor of his fallen mentor, Mikey has sworn to continue the legacy of the Son of Vulcan!

71. Lagoon Boy Joined: Teen Titans East Special #1 [2007] Though young and slight of build, the aquatic young mutant known as Lagoon Boy can inflate his body like a puffer fish to intimidate predators and foes. His love for the surface world united him in friendship with the mutated whale, Bludder, and the Trironian mermaid, Sheeva. Eventually, Lagoon Boy's travels led him to meet other teen heroes and become part of their community.

72. Kara Zor-El [Supergirl] Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #50 [2007] Kara Zor-El was sent to Earth in a rocket ship at roughly the same time as her cousin, Kal-El, but aged at a slower rate in suspended animation. Years after Kal-El became Superman, Kara crashed to Earth and soon adopted the name Supergirl. Despite her stong-willed bravado, the Kryptonian teen is still trying to discover what she wants to be.

73. Jaime Reyes [Blue Beetle] Joined: Teen Titans (third series) #61 [2008] When the mystic scarab of the Blue Beetle fused to the spine of Jaime Reyes, a new Blue Beetle was born! The Texas teen learned the alien artifact could expand to create a super-powered carapace around his body, enabling him to become El Paso's super-powered protector from threats both criminal and magical.

Titans Allies: Over the years, the Titans have amassed a set of friends and allies in their never-ending battle against evil. Some have been lost in battle and others still aid the Titans when called.

Loren Jupiter First Allied: Teen Titans #25 [1970] Wealthy philanthropist Loren Jupiter funded the original Titans team for a time - as well as Atom's Teen Titans much later. Jupiter later was revealed as the father of Titans' psychic Lilith Clay and Titans' foe, the illusion-casting Haze.

The Doom Patrol First Allied: The Doom Patrol #104 [1966] Victims of cruel fate, three individuals were given strange powers that made them outcasts from society. United by their wheelchair-bound leader known as "The Chief," the oddball adventurers - Robotman, Elasti-Girl and Negative Man - became underground heroes as the Doom Patrol! Although the membership has changed through the years, the Doom Patrol has always offered freakish pariahs the chance to become heroes.

Steve Dayton [Mento/Crimelord] First Allied: New Teen Titans #13-15 [1981-1982] Smitten with Elasti-Girl of the Doom Patrol, millionaire inventor Steve Dayton fashioned a psionic helmet and became the self-styled super-hero, Mento. Elasti-Girl and Mento wed - and adopted Beast Boy as their son. Although the Mento helmet has pushed him to the brink of insanity, Dayton has learned to tame his inner demons.

Arella [Angela Roth] First Allied: New Teen Titans #5 [1980] Impregnated by the demon Trigon, Angela Roth found refuge in the peaceful city of Azarath, where she adopted the name, Arella. There, she gave birth to Raven and protected her from Trigon's evil. Arella's devotion to her daughter led to her death during an encounter with the Wildebbest Society.

Frances Kane [Magenta] First Allied: New Teen Titans #17 [1982] When Frances Kane's magnetic powers manifested, the insecure teen believed she was possessed by demons. Her childhood sweetheart, Wally West, pulled her back from the brink of insanity. Frances later adopted a meta-human persona as Magenta, but found her powers fractured her mind - violently shifting her personality from positive to negative.

Adrian Chase [Vigilante] First Allied: New Teen Titans Annual #2 [1983] When his family was brutally killed by mobsters, District Attorney Adrian Chase took the law into his own hands as the gun-toting Vigilante. As Vigilante's methods became more extreme, Chase entered into a state of self-loathing and took his own life.

Jason Hart [The Protector] First Allied: The New Teen Titans #1 (Drug Awareness Giveaway) [1983] High school student Jason Hart became alarmed at the nation's growing drug problem. Allied with the Teen Titans, resourceful Jason became the crime-fighter known as The Protector and took to the streets to wage a war on illegal narcotics.

Gan and Tavis Williams [Thunder & Lightning] First Allied: New Teen Titans #32 [1983] The offspring of a Vietnamese woman and an alien entity, Gan and Tavis Williams manifested uncontrollable elemental powers. Dubbed Thunder & Lightning, the Teen Titans and S.T.A.R. Labs contained the duo and uncovered the truths behind their origins. Since then, the elemental twins have become trusted allies to the Titans as well as protectors of S.T.A.R. Labs.

Adeline Kane Wilson First Allied: Tales of the Teen Titans #42-44, Annual #3 [1984] The ex-wife of the mercenary, Deathstroke, Adeline Kane formed her own detective agency, Searchers, Inc. Adeline was mother to the Titan, Jericho as well as Titans' foe, The Ravager. After a blood transfusion from Deathtroke, Adeline gained immortal powers and was driven insane. Addie later became Mistress of the criminal organization, H.I.V.E., and was destroyed in battle.

Azrael [Real Name Unknown] First Allied: Tales of the Teen Titans #52 [1985] When a mysterious winged alien was unthawed from a block of ice, he immediately fell in love with Lilith Clay. When Lilith left, the distraught alien became duped into Brother Blood's cult - where he was given the name, Azrael. Eventually freed from Blood's thrall, Azrael once again flies free.

Jason Todd [Robin II] First Allied: New Teen Titans (second series) #19-21 [1986]

After attempting to steal the wheels off the Batmobile, brash street urchin Jason Todd met the Batman. Becoming the second Robin, Jason's fiery temperament led to his apparent death at the hands of the Joker. But Jason has returned from death to wage a violent war on crime on his own terms.

Chris King [Dial "H" for HERO] First Allied: New Teen Titans (second series) #45-46 [1988] When Chris King and Vicki Grant stumbled upon two mystical dials, they discovered they could transform into a different super-powered persona each time they dialed H-E-R-O! When Vicki went rogue, Chris sought the Titans for help. Since then, King has learned to internalize his transformations and aids the Titans when called.

Slade Wilson [Deathstroke, The Terminator] First Allied: New Titans #71 [1990] A hard-edged mercenary, Slade Wilson, a.k.a. Deathstroke the Terminator, fulfilled any contract he undertook. The chemically-enhanced assassin accepted the contract to kill the Titans on his dead son's behalf. But when Slade's attempts to kill the Titans led to ruin, he abandoned the contract and even became their ally on occasion. After losing those close to him, Slade returned to his violent ways.

William Randolph Wintergreen First Allied: Tales of the Teen Titans #42-44, Annual #3 [1984] Slade Wilson disobeyed orders to save the life of British soldier, William Randolph Wintergreen - earning a debt Wintergreen intended to repay in kind. Wintergreen catalogued Slade's exploits as the mercenary, Deathstroke the Terminator, often serving as his moral conscience. Wintergreen's devotion to Slade ultimately led to his death.

Pat Trayce [Vigilante II] First Allied: Deathstroke #6-9 [1991-1992] Tough Gotham Detective Pat Trayce - frustrated with the revolving-door justice system - became the Vigilante in an effort to punish the man who killed her partner. Trained by Deathstroke, Vigilante found herself in a tumultuous on-again/off-again affair with the famed mercenary. Trayce also runs a search & rescue operation known as Vigilance.

Sarge Steel First Allied: New Titans #100 [1993] Sarge Steel earned his nickname when the tough soldier's hand was replaced with a steel alloy appendage after a rigged hand grenade cost him his left hand. Steel later became a high ranking government operative in both the Central Bureau of Intelligence and Checkmate. When the government assumed control of the New Titans, Sarge Steel often clashed with then-leader, Arsenal.

Neil Richards [Mad Mod] First Allied: Teen Titans (second series) #2 [1996] The madcap Mad Mod clashed with the original Teen Titans when the outrageous villain attempted to use his clothing design label as a smuggling operation. The criminal of Carnaby Street eventually reformed and befriended Titans' mentor, Loren Jupiter.

Sasha Martens and Wiley Wolverman [Hawk & Dove III] First Allied: JLA/Titans #1-3 [1998] Army brat Sasha Martens and laidback musician Wiley Wolverman had only one thing in common: Both were part of a secret government experiment designed to genetically engineer meta-humans. Now sprouting wings at will and powered with sonic shrieks, the mismatched duo became the newest Hawk & Dove.

Epsilon [Real Name Unknown] First Allied: Titans #21-22 [2000] The Department of Extranormal Operations [D.E.O.] established an orphanage full of super-powered young charges. The psychotic orphan known as Epsilon was possessed by fellow orphan, Kevin Tanaka, who secured safe haven for his friends at Titans Tower. After the real Epsilon burst free, he destroyed the tower in a battle that seemingly claimed his own life as well.

The D.E.O. Orphans [Grace, Zeke, Eli, Scrap, Nikki and Kevin] First Allied: Titans #27-29 [2001] Six meta-human orphans - Grace, Zeke, Eli, Scrap, Nikki and Kevin - fled the Department of Extranormal Operations [D.E.O.] to secure safe haven at Titans Tower headquarters. The plan backfired when Epsilon emerged and destroyed Titans Tower, resulting in the death of D.E.O. orphan, Kevin Tanaka. After that tragedy, Nightwing intervened on their behalf, and the kids returned to a restructured D.E.O. Orphanage.

Krypto First Allied: Teen Titans #7 [2004] Rescued from an alternate universe, the Kryptonian canine known as Krypto was brought back to earth by Superman. After a disasterous stay in Metropolis, Superboy was charged to care for the super-pup.

Wendy & Marvin First Allied: Teen Titans #34 [2006] The clever criminal known as The Calculator fathered twin children, Wendy and Marvin, both of whom shared his advanced intellect. The super-smart siblings acted as caretakers to the Titans Tower after they graduated M.I.T. on their sixteenth birthday - until Marvin was slain by King Lycus' vicious hellhound.

Atlee [Terra III ] First Allied: Terror Titans #1 [2008] Born in the underground world of Strata, young Atlee possessed earth-manipulating abilities unique to her people. Destined to protect Strata's future, optimistic Atlee journeyed to the surface to defend the earth as Terra.

[mixingandmelting]

hey so how do you think Dick grayson and Tim drake would deal with having nightmares and their s/o eases them awake quietly. And s/o doesn’t poke them for answers. Has an attitude of if their boyfriend wants to spill they can do. Their man’s in a cold sweat. Once their boyfriends back down to earth, s/o’s like “I’m gonna make us both tea” also mentions that “I get nightmares too”. And stays up with their boyfriend and then suddenly sunrise hits and they’ve both not slept at all. Meanwhile, how do they also deal with s/o sometimes having nightmares themselves? Like they’ll just cry in their sleep? The really bad nightmares s/o gets happens before they even met their boyfriend, meaning the danger the boys introduced into s/o life isn’t the cause for them sometimes having nightmares? S/o had a dramatic life before they met each other?

Dick:

Always the listener, giving comfort to others but never allowing himself to be given the same. He’s used to internalizing his issues and solving them on his own, never realizing that it makes him resemble someone he’s very much close to and criticize about. That was until you entered his life. Words can’t describe the relief you give him, your very presence enough to get him ground back to reality. When it first happened, he had interpreted your silence as uncertainty. The debate on trying to figure out what to say without triggering him. Not like he could blame you considering his tendency of having a mean temper when his mind is consumed by darkness. He was expecting you to stay simply silent and give him space for alone time just as he always pushes for. Or, like how everyone always does it, probe him to tell you what’s wrong, giving him the classic lecture of how unhealthy it is to pent things up. But like then and now, he’s embraced, back softly rubbed as he rests his head on your shoulder and regains his breath. Sometimes hugging you back when it was particularly a bad one. 

Sure he has stayed in bed when he’s able to silence the white noise quicker but often he gets out of bed and follows you to the kitchen, not wanting his one comfort to leave him all alone as you go to make tea. You always manage to get him to crack a tiny smile from squeezing his hand and reminding him things will be okay. That even you get nightmares as he leans his head on yours, his cheek nuzzling into your hair while his eyes stay trained on you steeping his favorite Earl Grey. He heads to the sofa with you and curls into your side to further savor your warmth. Once the caffeine rush hits, it pushes him to talk in circles of what he saw. He doesn’t address what exactly happens directly, fearing the superstition of saying it would make it come true. Soon the sun would rise and he’s either being the smaller or bigger spoon, listening to the words you give that brings him the solace he needed. 

When you’re the one going through a traumatic nightmare, he’s internally in great distress. A frown always settles on his face, a part of him feeling stabbed, as it registers in his blurry mind you’re crying. Nothing does he despise anymore than how he can’t do anything to make whatever you’ve gone through go away or your nightmare to stop. He knows waking you up will only make things worse from you having to remember your trauma in your consciousness when you’re reliving it subconsciously and that’s the last thing he needed to do. So he quietly scooches closer to you and carefully you towards him. One arm acts as a pillow while the other holds you as he busies himself in patting your head, whispering words of promises that you’re not alone, you’re safe, and he’ll always be there for you. It gives him reassurance when it works, your breathing evening it out as you go back to a peaceful slumber. When it doesn’t he stays awake in silence, almost cradling you in the bed as he does his best to soothe you with a broken heart of seeing how much agony you must’ve gone through.

Tim:

He’s the one who has gotten better with voicing his current state especially with how he nearly destroyed himself in the search for the then-proclaimed-dead Batman and the death of Superboy. However, you make everything a hundred times better and easier to handle. As cheesy as it sounds, you’re the light that always pulls him out of his own darkness. During the first time, he didn’t understand why you weren’t asking and, instead, simply staying still. It brought out the uncertainty and doubt he held toward himself, all the thoughts that constantly haunted him. Until he was engulfed by a comforting warmness. Back then he was hesitant, however currently, he ends up clinging to you as he’s finally able to register your heartbeat in his ears, signalling he’s awake. It strengthens him to overcome the anxiety as you never get impatient and continue holding him as long as he needs to go back to somewhat being okay. 

He doesn’t let go of your hand though, in a way forcing you to drag him into the kitchen so you could steep tea. Yes, it’s embarrassing that he looks like a kid with the blanket still wrapped around him as he does this but he takes mind to it as you pull him closer to maximize your mobility while still being able to have his hand held. Not that he complains, his automatic response being his arms wrapping around your waist and having both hands being in one of yours. At the sofa with fresh tea steaming in cups, the two of you cuddle while sharing the blanket as he pours everything out as a response to your question of him being okay. His head burrows into the crook of your neck to hide the expression he makes, his mind settling and reminding nothing compared to being with you when you being with him allows all the knots and worries to come undone. 

Every time you cry in your sleep, he sends another proposal to not Batman or his adopted dad but Bruce Wayne the CEO of Wayne Enterprises on why more funding should be put in their medical branch to research psychological relief for trauma. He has the saddest look when he wakes up and watches your pained expressions, ears sharp and silently listening to your mumbles and noting them in the back of his head to further help him figure out ways he could make things better without overstepping your boundaries. Having read how forcefully waking up a person from a nightmare may potentially add more scars, he has to suppress himself from doing exactly that. Doesn’t make the whole thing suck any less from how resentful and spiteful it makes him for being powerless and incapable making your scars go away. Scared of unintentionally giving you more scars, he either places an arm protectively over you or holds your hand with a firm yet tender grip, patting you softly as he doesn’t stop until you’re fine no matter how long it takes.

[aeralux]

"Spellbound" - Daemon Targaryen

Daemon Targaryen x Witch!Reader

Summary: A witch doesn't cower to anyone... except maybe a dragon. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. Harrenhal seems to be riddled with darkness and mysteries, after all.

Warnings: SMUT (18+); rough sex; oral (f!receiving); fingering; foul language; talks of magick and its use; technically infidelity on Daemon's part; loss of virginity; mention of blood

Words: 8.3k

Notes: No description of the reader, except for dark hair. Takes place in Harrenhal when Daemon is staying there. I tried to be as accurate to Westeros lore as I could, I literally spent hours on their wiki, so I hope it shows through :)

𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

Harrenhal was a ghastly place. It had the biggest castle of all of Westeros. The castle had five dizzying towers, with equally monstrous curtain walls. The walls were incredibly thick, and its rooms were built on a scale that would be more comfortable for giants than humans—said to be haunted and eerie.

Perfect for sorceresses and sorcerers alike, the city had a coven of Witches who collectively went by the name "Wives of the Gods Eye." The name was an ode to Gods Eye, the largest lake of the Seven Kingdoms, located south of Harrenhal.

In the embrace of warm sunlight, the water of the Gods Eye shimmers in vibrant shades of blue and green, casting a magical glow. Yet, as winter blankets the land, its surface transforms into a steely grey, reminiscent of the coldest metal. Majestic black swans glide gracefully across the water. Just a short distance away, a winding lake road meanders near the storied Harrenhal, leading through a patchwork of rolling hills, sparkling streams, and golden sunlit fields. As one journeys further south, the landscape gives way to dense, shadowy forests, creating a clear contrast.

The lake, with its murky depths, bore a name of divine beings, yet here, amidst the towering pines and shivering mists, there existed no gods. Only monsters lurked in the shadows, and witches wove their secrets beneath the pale moonlight. As for you, you were a bastard of Pinkmaiden, an unwelcome child of a place that should have offered a home. At the young age of six, you were sent to Harrenhal, a castle steeped in blood and betrayal, to serve the lords and ladies of House Strong as one of the laundresses. The ancient stones watched over you with cold indifference, whispering the secrets of many who had come before.

Your raven-black hair flowed like a dark river down your back, framing your face and matching nicely with your unsettling eyes, which shimmered like a stormy sea. These features marked you as different, a reminder of your uncertain heritage. It was not long before the Lady of Harrenhal, with her porcelain skin and sharp gaze, grew wary of your presence. On the eve of your sixteenth birthday, she cast you out, her disdain cutting deeper than any blade.

Alone and bereft, you wandered the wilderness, uncertainty gnawing at your heart. But fortune smiled upon you when the coven of witches found you, their cloaks billowing like dark wings against the whispering wind. They took you in, offering a refuge far removed from the stone walls of Harrenhal. In their hidden glen, where wildflowers crowded beneath the trees, they made you feel cherished for the first time. 

Nowadays, for most, magic is a little-understood force in the world. It has been so long since magic was truly potent that most understanding now exists only in superstition and rituals of questionable validity. But with them, you understood, the doubts of others have no claim.

"You are special," they insisted, words dripping with ancient wisdom. "You possess something otherworldly." Their voices wrapped around you like a warm embrace. For the first time, you believed there was a purpose to your existence—a spark that set you apart from common folk, a thread woven from the fabric of something otherworldly.

Under their solemn guidance, you began to practice the mysterious arts. You learned to mix herbs and roots, crafting potions that glinted with promise and danger. Each incantation you whispered held power, resonating with the essence of the world around you. The witching nights became your solace, and as you delved deeper into their teachings, the women of the coven began to call you their newest daughter—their black swan. In that embrace, you found your wings, soaring above the harsh reality that had sought to bind you.

There, in the shadows of Harrenhal, you discovered your true calling and uncovered your hidden talent: Glamour magic. The few ladies of the coven from Asshai welcomed you into their fold. Asshai, a mysterious and ancient port city nestled in the far southeast of Essos, was unlike any place in Westeros, you gathered from their stories. There, the Ash River wound its way through the land, flowing into the vast expanse of the Jade Sea, where the waters sparkled under the sun like jewels.

As you sat among the flickering candles in their dimly lit chamber, they taught you ancient spells in their native tongue. Words danced on your lips like whispers in the wind, each incantation holding power and mystique. They guided you in prayer, teaching you how to bow your head before the Red God, channelling your intentions through sacred rituals. The air was thick with incense, and the flickering shadows brought to life the stories of ages past, filling your heart with a sense of wonder and purpose.

When the wise ladies of the coven, cloaked in shadows and steeped in ancient lore, deemed you ready to embrace your destiny, they presented you with a striking necklace carved from deep black obsidian. Its surface shimmered like a starless night sky, reflecting the flickering flames of the hearth where your journey began. Though the obsidian was traditionally used to forge weapons of war, the coven believed it resonated with your spirit, a perfect talisman for what lay ahead.  

As you clasped the necklace around your neck, it transformed into your glamor, an enchanting charm that bestowed upon you the power to weave illusions. With it, the magic could shift the perceptions of those around you, allowing you to appear as someone—or something—entirely different. While the shape of the necklace remained unchanged, the world could see whatever you wished it to see, bending reality to your will.  

The true strength of glamors lies in their connection to the wearer. Each illusion from the obsidian was ingrained with a piece of you, making them far more potent than mere tricks of light. As you wore the necklace, you felt it pulse gently against your skin, a current of magic entwining your fate with ancient spells. The coven’s trust in you burned bright like the embers of a dying fire.  

In the realm where shadows danced and whispers echoed, the obsidian necklace became more than just an accessory; it was an extension of your very being, a bridge between the world you knew and the numerous possibilities.

Through the fogs surrounding Harrenhal and its haunting towers, a figure emerged one day that would change the course of history. Daemon Targaryen, the rogue prince, found himself in the ancient fortress where magic lingered in the air, where witches snarled their secrets beneath the pale moonlight, and where even the strongest of men lost their minds to visions that tormented them.

The arrival of the Targaryen prince foreshadowed the beginning of the violent conflict known as the Dance of the Dragons, igniting the flames of war. The first target being Harrenhal. Daemon Targaryen, fierce and determined, led the charge to seize this shadowy castle for his wife, Rhaenyra. In his mind, it would become a stronghold for loyal supporters rising in the Riverlands.

Chaos erupted in the region, the air thick with tension and fear hanging heavily over the lords and common folk. Yet amidst this turmoil, you stood resolute, encouraged by the words of an elder from your coven, whose foresight promised their safety in these troubled times.

With unwavering determination, you journeyed to the godswood of Harrenhal, walking along the clear, winding stream that wandered gently through the emerald shrubberies. The ancient weirwood, with its deformed roots and an angry face carved into its bark, awaited you at the heart of the woods. Its pale leaves trembled softly in the breeze, whispering secrets of generations past.

Above you, birds flitted through the branches, their songs mingling with the rustling leaves, while bats emerged as shadows against the dusky sky, patrolling for their evening meal. A sly cat sneaked near the godswood's stone wall, its eyes glinting like lanterns in the twilight. In this serene moment, you felt a peculiar kinship with the creatures of the wood, convinced that you were not alone.

With reverence, you placed your offering between the twisted roots of the ancient tree, murmuring a quick prayer. You believed in many deities, each an important part of your life, hoping that at least one would consider your call. After all, in these dark times, hope was a precious thing.

Before your journey back, you felt a tug in your heart to pay a quick visit to Alys. The kind healer lady was one of the rare souls who did not cast disdainful glances at you during your time in the castle. Known by others as the “witch queen,” Alys saw past the uncanny aura that surrounded you. She had grown fond of you, despite the brooding darkness that seemed to dance in your eyes, and she understood that your best path was far from these stone walls. You stood out too much among the lords and ladies, a vision amidst the living.

Like a creeping shadow, you slipped through the secret passage, the cool air brushing against your skin as you navigated the hidden corridors. The echoes of your footsteps were muffled by the cold, damp stones, as you moved with practised ease to avoid the lurking guards. You knew better than to provoke their watchful eyes.

Upon entering Alys's chamber, you were greeted by a familiar sight—her collection of potions and drying herbs adorned the shelves, a simple yet charming chaos that spoke of her craft. The room held a soft scent of lavender and something earthy, an aroma that always brought you comfort. You wandered over to the table, intrigued by the array of glass bottles filled with vivid liquids.

But the serenity shattered in an instant, as a cold steel blade pressed against your throat, sending a chill cascading down your spine. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, mingling with the tension in the air. Your heart raced, pounding against your ribcage as panic surged. Who could it be, a figure lurking in the shadows, ready to end your life? The world around you faded into silence, but your senses heightened, honed by years of uncertainty. At that moment, you wondered if your last moments would be in the castle that had been both shelter and prison.

You couldn't see the face of your attacker, but you could feel the presence looming over you, the weight of their body pressing you forward. The blade dug into your skin, drawing a thin line of blood that trickled down your neck. You swallowed hard, fighting back the fear that threatened to overwhelm you.

"Who are you?" a low and menacing voice demanded. And what are you doing here?"

The voice was unfamiliar to you, but there was a certain authority in it that sent a chill down your spine. You knew that whoever this person was, they meant business.

You tried to turn your head, to catch a glimpse of your attacker, but the blade pressed harder against your throat, making you wince in pain. "Please," you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. "I mean no harm."

The figure behind you let out a harsh laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "No harm? You sneak into the healer's chambers like a thief in the night, and you claim to mean no harm?"

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, mingling with the blood on your skin. "I'm not a thief," you said, your voice trembling. "I'm a friend of Alys. I came to see her, to...to say hello."

The blade pressed harder against your throat, making you gasp in pain. "Hello?" the voice repeated, a note of suspicion in it. "Somehow I doubt you, little witch."

You knew then that your attacker was well aware of your true nature, of the magic that coursed through your veins. You thought of the obsidian necklace around your neck, the glamor that disguised you as a simple servant girl. But you knew that even that powerful magic would be no match for the Valyrian steel pressed against your throat.

Your heart pounded against your ribs as you struggled to steady your breathing. The cold steel pressed harder against your throat, sending a jolt of pain through your body. You tried to swallow, but your mouth was dry, and your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

"I swear, it's true," you managed to choke out, your voice trembling with fear. "I didn't know anyone would be here. I thought...I thought Alys would be alone."

You could feel your attacker's warm breath on the back of your neck, their presence looming over you like a dark shadow. You wanted to turn and face them, to see the face of the one who held your life in their hands, but the blade kept you still.

"Please," you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. "Don't hurt me. I'm not here to cause any trouble. I just...I just wanted to see her"

Your hands shook at your sides, the obsidian necklace hidden beneath your simple servant's gown a cold weight against your skin. You knew that your glamor was useless now, that your true nature had been discovered. But you couldn't let them know about the coven, about the power that you possessed.

You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain that was sure to come. You had survived so much in your short life and had endured so much hardship and betrayal. But in that moment, faced with the cold steel of a stranger's blade, you felt more vulnerable than ever.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I didn't mean any harm."

You waited for the blade to slice through your skin, for the blood to pour from the wound. But it never came. Instead, you felt the pressure of the blade lessen, the cold steel sliding away from your throat.

Slowly, you turned your head, your eyes widening as you saw the face of the one who had held your life in their hands. It was a man, tall and broad-shouldered, with hair the colour of spun silver and eyes as violet as an iris. He looked like he had stepped straight out of a legend, a true son of Valyria.

Daemon's violet eyes narrowed as he studied the young woman before him, his gaze sharp and piercing. He could see the fear in your eyes, the way your body trembled beneath his touch, but he also sensed something else—a flicker of something dark and dangerous lurking just beneath the surface. He knew a witch when he saw one, and you were no ordinary servant.

"A friend of Alys's, you say?" he growled, his voice low and menacing. "And yet you seem to know your way around this castle better than most. Tell me, little witch, what exactly are you doing here?"

He kept the blade pressed against your throat, not enough to draw blood, but enough to keep you still. He could feel the heat of your skin beneath the cold steel and could see the way your pulse fluttered. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear.

"I've dealt with your kind before," he whispered, his voice a low rumble. "I know the tricks you play, the illusions you weave. But trust me, little one, you'll find no mercy here."

Daemon's eyes flicked down to the necklace hidden beneath your gown, a flicker of recognition sparking in their depths. He had seen such trinkets before. But this one was different—there was a power to it that even he could sense, a dark and ancient magic that thrummed through the air like a heartbeat.

"What's this?" he demanded, his fingers brushing against the hidden amulet. "Some kind of charm, is it? A trinket to hide your true face from the world?"

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "I can smell the magic on you, little witch. It clings to your skin like perfume. The same foul odour that clings to the healer."

Daemon's hand slid down from your throat to your collarbone, his fingers tracing the curve of your flesh beneath the thin fabric of your gown. He could feel the heat of your skin beneath his touch, could see the way your body trembled at his proximity.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady the trembling of your hands as you met Daemon's piercing violet gaze. With a steady motion, you reached behind your neck and unclasped the necklace, letting the heavy amulet drop into your palm. There was no point in trying to hide your identity any longer. Your true face coming to light.

Daemon's lips curled into a wicked grin as you revealed the truth of your identity, his eyes glinting with a predatory hunger. He could see the fear in your eyes, but also the aggressiveness, the spark of something wild and untamed that called to him like a siren's song.

"I am a witch, yes," you admitted in a hushed whisper, your heart pounding so hard you feared he could hear it. "But I speak the truth, your grace. I did not know anyone would be here."

You couldn't help but notice his rugged handsomeness as you spoke, the strong lines of his jaw and the way his muscles rippled beneath the thin linen of his tunic. You quickly averted your gaze, not wanting him to see the effect he was having on you.

"I'm from the coven called the Wives of the Gods Eye," you continued, voice barely above a whisper. "We practice the old ways, the magic that was once forbidden. I simply came here seeking some herbs."

You met his eyes once more, defiance mingling with the apprehension. "I meant you no harm, my lord. I swear it on my life."

"A witch of the old ways, are you?" he purred, his hand sliding up from your collarbone to cup your chin, tilting your face towards his. "How very interesting. And here I thought Alys was the only one in this godforsaken castle who dabbled in the dark arts."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "You say you seek herbs, little witch, but what say you to a bargain? Your secrets for my protection."

Daemon's hand slid down to your neck, his fingers wrapping around your throat in a loose grip. He could feel your pulse fluttering beneath his touch, could see the way your body trembled at his proximity.

"I could use a witch of your talents in my service," he murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You stepped back, your hand brushing against the dagger beneath your skirts. "I am not some whore," you hissed, your voice low and dangerous. "I do not offer my services to any man, least of all one who would threaten me with a blade."

You met his gaze, your own eyes blazing with defiance. "You would be wise to let me leave at once, your grace. I have no quarrel with you, but I will not be cowed by threats or promises of power."

Turning on your heel, you strode to the shelves, your movements quick and precise. You grabbed a bottle of dried hemlock, the bitter scent filling your nostrils. You turned back to face him, the vial clutched in your hand like a weapon.

"I a daughter of the Gods Eye. I bow to no man, not even a prince of the realm."

You lifted your chin, your dark hair falling in waves around your face. "Now, I will ask you once more. Let me pass, or face the consequences of crossing a witch."

Your hand tightened on the hemlock, the glass cold against your skin. You could feel the rage thrumming through your veins.

"Choose wisely, your grace."

He had dealt with witches before and had watched as they danced and writhed beneath his touch. In pain and pleasure.

But this one was different. This one had a fire in her eyes that couldn't be tamed, a defiance that only fuelled his dark desires.

"A daughter of the Gods Eye, are you?" he growled, his hand tightening around the hilt of his dagger. "How very bold of you, little witch. To stand before a prince of the realm and threaten him with your petty magic."

He took a step forward, his eyes locked on the vial of hemlock clutched in your hand. "You think that trinket will save you? That your gods will protect you from the wrath of a dragon?"

Your breath hitched as Daemon closed the distance between you, his presence overwhelming your senses. The threats rolling off his tongue made your head spin, a dizzying combination of fear and thrill coursing through your veins. You had never met a man who could match the fire in your blood, his very existence seems to challenge you at every turn.

Daemon's lips curled into a cruel smile, his voice dropping to a low, seductive purr. "I have seen the faces of men and women as they begged for mercy, only to be denied. And I have drunk the blood of my enemies, their cries of agony echoing in my ears like a symphony."

"I could hurt you," he growled, his voice a low rumble. "I could crack you like this vial in my hand, leaving you a broken shell of the proud sorceress you once were."

"What do you want?" You gritted out through clenched teeth, hating the way your body reacted to his proximity. Your legs felt weak, your knees threatening to buckle as he loomed over you, his eyes burning into yours.

Daemon's lips curled into a wicked grin at the challenge in your voice, his eyes glinting with a predatory hunger that made your blood run cold. He could see the way your body trembled beneath his gaze, could feel the heat of your skin even from a distance.

Stop it, you scolded yourself. He's just a man. Don't let him get under your skin.

But even as you tried to regain your composure, you could feel the power emanating from him like a physical force. It was intoxicating and dangerous, and you knew that if you weren't careful, you could easily lose yourself in the reckless temptation.

"What do I want?" he purred, his voice low and seductive. "Why, I want what all men want, little witch. Power. Control. To bend others to my will."

He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. His fingers lingered on your cheek, his touch searing your skin like a brand.

"But with you, I want something more," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to break you. To shatter that defiant spirit of yours and make you mine."

You could feel the heat of his skin against yours, could smell the musk of his scent, and for a moment, you were tempted to give in to the desire coursing through your veins.

But you were not some simpering maiden to be seduced by a pretty face and a silver tongue.

Daemon's hand slid down to your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck in a loose grip.

"I could take you now," he growled, his lips brushing against your jawline. "I could pin you to the floor and claim you, make you scream my name until your voice is hoarse."

His other hand slid down your side, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip through the thin fabric of your gown. "But where's the fun in that? No, I'll take my time with you, little witch. I'll make you beg for my touch, for the sweet release only I can give you."

Daemon's eyes locked with yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. "So what will it be, my sweet? Will you submit to me willingly, or will I have to break you first?"

"You think you can break me?" You said, my voice steady and clear. "That you can tame my soul with your pretty words and your empty promises?"

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear. "I have faced far worse than you, Daemon Targaryen. I have stared into the abyss and emerged unscathed. Your threats mean nothing to me."

Your hand slid up his chest, your fingers curling around the chain of the dragon necklace that hung from his neck. You could feel the heat of the metal against your skin, looking at him with a scowl on your face.

"But if you truly want to test yourself against me, my lord," you teased, your voice low and enchanting. "If you think you have what it takes to claim me as your own... by all means, try."

Daemon's eyes flashed with a dangerous light at your challenge, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He could feel the heat of your body against his, could smell the scent of your skin, sweet and intoxicating.

"You play a dangerous game, little witch," he purred, his hand tightening around your throat. "To challenge a dragon is to invite its wrath."

His other hand slid down your back, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. He could feel the heat of your body, could sense the power that coursed through your veins.

"But I like a woman with spirit," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "It makes the eventual submission all the sweeter."

Daemon's hand slid up your side, his fingers tracing the curve of your breast through the thin fabric of your gown. He could feel your nipple harden beneath his touch, could see the way your body responded to his ministrations.

"I will have you, little witch," he growled, his voice low and seductive. "I will claim you as my own, body and soul. And when I am done with you, you will beg for more."

You roll your eyes at Daemon's sweet words, his attempts at seduction falling flat. He thinks he can have you with just a few pretty lies? How naive.

"You tempt me, my prince," you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "But I'm no easy conquest. Besides, Alys will be back soon. I bet she won't be happy to see an old man taking advantage of her friend." You smirk cruelly, enjoying the way his eyes narrow at your words.

You try to pull away from him, but his grip on your throat tightens, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I could seriously hurt you, you know," you snarl, your eyes flashing with a dangerous light. "Don't underestimate me."

Daemon's eyes flashed with a dangerous light at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. In one swift motion, he slammed you against the wall, his body pinning you in place.

"Enough of your games, little witch," he snarled, his hand tightening around your throat. "You think you can toy with me, challenge me, and walk away unscathed?"

His free hand slid down your body, his fingers tearing at the fabric of your gown with a sharp, ripping sound. Buttons scattered across the floor as he bared your skin to his hungry gaze.

Shock and fury flash through you as Daemon rips open your dress, baring your breasts to his hungry gaze. You stare at him, completely still as a statue from utter disbelief, your breath coming in heavy gasps that make your breasts heave with each inhale.

"I will have you," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "I will claim you as my own, body and soul."

Daemon's hand slid down your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your breast, teasing your nipple into a hardened peak. He could feel the heat of your skin, the way your body trembled beneath his touch.

"I can feel your desire, little witch," he purred, his lips brushing against your ear. "Your body betrays you, even as you try to resist. I will make you mine, in every way possible."

"W-wait," you try to say, but your voice comes out breathy and weak as his fingers roll your nipple, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. Your eyes roll back and a soft moan escapes your parted lips.

What is happening? How did this get so out of control? You think to yourself, your mind spinning from the onslaught of sensation. You can't believe this is happening, that you are letting a man you barely know take such liberties with your body.

Daemon's lips curled into a wicked grin as he saw the effect his touch was having on you, your body arching into his hand like a cat in heat. He could feel the heat of your skin, the way your body trembled beneath his ministrations.

His hand slid down to your thigh, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your ripped gown to caress the soft skin of your leg. He could feel the heat of your body.

"But first, I think I'll taste you," he growled, his hand sliding higher, higher until his fingers brushed against the slick, heated flesh of your core.

Even as you try to formulate a protest, your body betrays you, arching into his touch, craving more of the delicious pleasure he's igniting within you. No, I can't let this happen. I have to stop him.

But the words never leave your lips, lost in a moan as Daemon's hand slides lower, teasing you in places you have only touched in secret, in the dark of night. You are lost in a haze of sensation, your body responding to his touch despite your mind's protests.

"That's it, little witch," he purred, his fingers pinching and tugging at your nipple. "Give in to the pleasure. Let yourself feel the ecstasy only I can give you."

He could feel the wetness of your arousal, could smell the musky scent of your desire.

"You're already so wet for me," he growled, his fingers brushing against your slick folds. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind tries to deny it."

Daemon's fingers slid higher, teasing your entrance with a feather-light touch. Your walls clenched around his fingers, begging for more.

You couldn't think straight, your mind a whirl of conflicting emotions. It was wrong to crave a man you had just met, especially one who had threatened your life moments ago. But the way his fingers teased your most intimate places sent waves of pleasure through your body.

You had heard the other women of your coven speak of lovemaking, their descriptions painting it as a powerful form of magic. Perhaps you could harness this power, and use it to your advantage as Daemon desired to use you for his own pleasure.

Your hips rolled against his hand, seeking more friction. You bit your lip to stifle the moans that threatened to spill from your lips, determined to maintain some facade of control. But deep down, you knew you were in danger of losing yourself to the sensations he was eliciting.

Daemon's eyes glinted with triumph as he felt your hips roll against his hand, your body betraying your true desires. He could see the conflict in your eyes, the way you bit your lip to stifle your moans, and it only served to fuel his own dark lust.

"You can't hide from me, little witch," he growled, his fingers teasing your slick folds. "I can feel how much you want this, how much you crave my touch."

He pressed two fingers inside you, his thumb circling your clit with a maddening rhythm.

You let out a loud, uncontrollable moan as Daemon's fingers delved deep into your untouched walls, his touch igniting a fire within you. Your juices flowed freely, coating his hand as ecstasy consumed your entire being.

Your body writhed against the cold stone wall, your hips bucking shamelessly against his skilled fingers as he finger-fucked you with reckless abandon. Waves of pleasure crashed over you with each thrust, your breasts heaving as he groped and kneaded them roughly.

"Your body is mine now," Daemon snarled, plunging his fingers deeper into your slick heat. He curled them just right, stroking that sensitive spot within you that made your vision go white. "You'll scream my name until your throat is raw. You'll beg for my cock like a bitch in heat."

His other hand gripped your hip, holding you in place as he finger-fucked you with ruthless intensity. Your cries of pleasure echoed off the stone walls, mingling with the lewd squelching sounds of his fingers pounding into your drenched cunt.

"That's it, take it," Daemon growled, his lips latching onto a pert nipple. He sucked hard, grazing the bud with his teeth as his fingers ruthlessly stroked your g-spot. "Come for me, little witch. Let me feel you spasm on my fingers."

He could feel your walls fluttering around his digits, your body teetering on the brink of climax. With a final, brutal thrust, he sent you careening over the edge. Your scream of ecstasy filled the room as your pussy clenched down on his fingers, your release dripping down his fingers.

Daemon lapped at your neck, tasting the salt of your sweat. He continued pumping his fingers through your climax, prolonging your pleasure until you were boneless and mewling.

"Good girl," he purred, finally withdrawing his soaked fingers. He brought them to your lips, smearing your essence across them. "Clean them."

Your eyes fluttered open, glazed with post-orgasmic bliss. You hesitated only a moment before parting your lips, allowing him to push his fingers into your mouth. The musky taste of your arousal coated your tongue, and you couldn't help but moan around his digits.

He grins wickedly as you lap at his fingers provocatively, cleaning your essence from them. As his fingers are clean, he lowers himself to the floor, kneeling before you, as to worship you.

You gasp as Daemon sinks to his knees before you, his dark eyes fuming with raw desire. Your heart races, your pulse pounding in your ears as he settles between your trembling thighs. The heat of his breath on your most sensitive flesh sends electric shocks of pleasure straight to your core.

Dazed and off-balance, you instinctively reach out, fisting your hands in his hair for support. Your legs still feel like jelly from your earth-shattering climax moments before.

A bewildered expression crosses your face as he grins up at you, his tongue snaking out to drag along your dripping slit. You cry out, your head slamming back against the cold stone wall as ecstasy crashes over you in relentless waves.

"Mmmm, you taste divine," Daemon purrs, his hot breath fanning over your slick folds. He laps at your essence like a man starved, his tongue delving deep to drink from your most intimate well.

You can only moan brokenly, your head thrashing from side to side as he feasts upon your quivering flesh. His tongue is pure sin, licking and suckling at your clit with unholy skill.

"Good girl," he growls, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. "Ride my face. Grind that pretty cunt against my tongue."

Lost to the all-consuming pleasure, you do as he commands, rolling your hips shamelessly against his mouth. Your thighs clench around his head, trapping him in place as you fuck his face with feral ease.

His lips close around your clit, suckling the sensitive bud as he thrusts two fingers into your dripping channel. They curl just right, stroking that secret spot within you that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Daemon groans, pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering walls.

You can only whimper in response, your body tensing as another climax builds at the base of your spine. It coils tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

Daemon's tongue delved deep, lapping at your dripping essence with a hunger that bordered on feral. He groaned against your slick flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure racing through your body.

He focused his attention on your clit, the tip of his tongue flicking the sensitive bud with rapid, teasing strokes. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he devoured you like a man starved.

Your fingers tightened in his hair. The public nature of your coupling only served to heighten the forbidden thrill, the rush of being taken in a place where anyone could stumble upon you.

His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. He could feel your body tensing, your walls fluttering around his probing tongue as he brought you to the brink of climax once more.

With one final, hard suck, he sent you spiralling over the edge. Your scream of ecstasy echoed off the stone walls as your pussy clenched around his tongue, your release gushing into his eager mouth.

Daemon lapped at your spasming cunt, prolonging your pleasure as he drank down every last drop of your sweet nectar. He continued his ministrations until your body went limp, your cries turning to whimpers as the waves of pleasure subsided.

Finally, he pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your juices. He stood, a wicked grin on his face as he towered over your prone form.

"You taste divine, little witch," he purred, his hand sliding up your body to cup your breast. He pinched your nipple, rolling the hardened peak between his fingers. "I could feast on your cunt for hours and never grow tired."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "But I'm not nearly done with you yet..."

Lifting you up with ease, Daemon tosses you onto the creaky bed, your body bouncing on the worn mattress. You cry out in surprise, your heart pounding as you take in his towering form looming over you. His eyes burn with a hunger that gives you chills.

"Daemon, please," you plead, your voice trembling. Your core aches, still throbbing from the intense climaxes he's wrought from your untouched body. You are no experienced harlot, but an untouched maiden, and you fear you are not ready for the sheer size of him.

Daemon's large hands grip your ankles, spreading your legs wide as he settles between your thighs.

Daemon's eyes raked over your trembling form, taking in the sight of you spread out before him like a feast. His cock throbbed with need, straining against the confines of his breeches as he drank in the sight of your swollen, glistening folds.

His hands moved with urgent purpose, his fingers making quick work of the laces of his breeches. He shoved the garment down his legs, kicking it aside with a careless motion. His cock sprang free, the thick shaft jutting out proudly from a nest of dark curls.

He rubbed his cock against your slick entrance, teasing you with the promise of his hard length. You could feel it throbbing against your sensitive flesh, hot and hard and ready to claim you utterly.

"Please," you whimpered, your body trembling with need. "I... I've never... I don't know if I can take you."

A cruel smile twisted Daemon's lips as he heard your plea.

"Please be gentle," you whisper, looking up at him with wide, vulnerable eyes.

Daemon's expression softens for a moment, a flicker of something akin to tenderness crossing his features. His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your trembling bottom lip.

"Shh, little witch," he murmurs, his voice surprisingly mild. "I'll make it good for you. I promise."

With that, he leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you, staking his claim over you.

As he kisses you deeply, you feel the head of his cock nudging against your entrance. Slowly, incredibly slowly, he begins to push forward, stretching you open around his thick girth.

A sharp gasp escapes you, breaking the kiss as he breaches your barrier. Pain and pleasure mingle together, your untouched walls struggling to accommodate his size.

"Fuck, you're tight," he groans, his hips grinding against yours. He gives you a moment to adjust, his hands roaming your body possessively. "Such a perfect little cunt, made just for me."

He starts to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back in. The rhythm is brutal, each thrust hitting that spot deep inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids.

You cried out, your back arching off the bed as pain and pleasure crashed over you in equal measure. He stretched you wide, his thick length filling you in a way you never thought possible. Your walls stretched and clenched around him, your slick arousal easing the way as he claimed you over and over again.

"Fuck!" Daemon snarls, his eyes rolling back at the tight, wet heat of your virgin walls. 

Daemon sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with animalistic hunger. His hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you in place as he ruts into your willing body.

"Take it," he growls, his voice strained with pleasure, his hips snapping against yours with ruthless force.

The bed creaked beneath you, the sound mingling with your moans and his grunts as he took you, his cock sawing in and out of your dripping cunt. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your nails raking down his back, leaving red marks and bloody imprints.

Daemon's brutal thrusts tore through you, each one sending shockwaves of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. You screamed, your voice hoarse and ragged as he pounded into your virgin cunt. Tears streamed down your face, your nails raking down his back as you clung to him desperately.

He had taken something sacred from you, your maidenhead, and you knew your souls were now tied. The ritual of first blood, unplanned as it was, had sealed your fates together. And with a dragon as your first, the power you could now wield...

You threw your head back, your moans echoing off the stone walls as he fucked you with complete disregard. Your hips bucked to meet his thrusts, the pain giving way to a pleasure you had never known before. You were lost to the sensation, your body consumed by the feel of him inside you.

Daemon's eyes darkened at the sight of your tears, a predatory grin spreading across his face. He could feel your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock like a vice as he claimed you over and over again.

He angled his hips, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you with each brutal thrust. His hands roamed your body, groping and squeezing, leaving bruises in their wake.

"That's it," he growled, his voice rough with pleasure. "Take my cock like the little slut you are. Fucking mine now, aren't you? Your cunt belongs to me."

You met his thrusts with your own, your hips rising to meet him as he drove into you over and over again. The bed groaned beneath you, the frame creaking threateningly as he took you with unrestrained lust.

You felt your peak nearing, your entire body on fire as Daemon pounded into you with unrestrained fury. You brought his neck to your teeth, biting down hard enough to draw a few drops of blood. The copper taste flooded your mouth, bitter and metallic as you licked the crimson liquid from your lips.

"Now you have bled for me too," you whispered ominously, your voice thick with lust and dark magic.

But before you could reach your peak, you quickly reached for your enchanted necklace, clutching it in your hand. The ancient magics within pulsed to life, amplifying the power of this ritual tenfold.

Power surged through you, your cunt squeezing tight around Daemon's cock as you came. Your eyes rolled back, your body convulsing as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. Dark energy swirled around you, the air crackling with stifled energy.

"Mine," you whispered, your voice echoing with unexpected dominance. "You are mine now, Daemon Targaryen. Entwined by blood and pleasure."

Daemon's eyes flew open in surprise, his mouth falling open as he felt the surge of dark witchcraft. But it was too late - the ritual was complete.

Daemon froze, his cock buried deep inside your still-spasming cunt. He stared down at you, his eyes wide with shock and a hint of fear.

He groaned, his hips stuttering as your cunt clenched around him like a vice. The dark magic amplified every sensation, every touch, every thrust. It was overwhelming and intoxicating, and he never wanted it to end.

"Fuck," he gasped, his voice strained with anger and pleasure. "What did you do?"

But even as he asked, he knew. You had bound him to you, claimed him in a way that went beyond the physical.

He thrust into you one last time, his cock erupting deep inside you as he came.

He tried to pull out, to break the connection, but your walls clenched around him, refusing to let him go. Panic flashed across his face as he realized the implications of what you'd done.

"You... you she-devil," he snarled, his hands tightening on your hips. "Did you plan this? To trick me, to bind me to you?"

You just grinned, a vicious, seductive curve of your lips. You could feel his fear, his anger, but beneath it all was a flicker of arousal. The power you now held over him was intoxicating.

"Shh," you cooed, your fingers trailing down his chest. "Don't fight it. We are one now."

You roll your hips, your walls clenching around his softening cock. He groans, his hips bucking unconsciously into yours.

You gasped as the obsidian stone of your necklace pulsed warmly against your throat. The maleficent force surged through your veins, your eyes rolling back in ecstasy. "Yes!" You cried out, the power exhilarating in your veins.

Your eyes, nearly black now, held his gaze as you sneered cruelly.

Daemon collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His softening cock slipped from your abused cunt, a trickle of his seed leaking out to pool on the tattered sheets beneath you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your bodies still intertwined as you both tried to process what had just happened. The energy that had swirled around you during your climax still lingered in the air, making the hairs on Daemon's arms stand on end.

Slowly, he lifted his head, his dark eyes searching your face. He looked confused as he took in your triumphant grin and the blackness of your eyes.

"What... what did you do to me?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

You smiled at him, your eyes gleaming with malice. "I didn't do anything to you. I had no desire to harm you, as I stated before," you answered truthfully. "Did you know that the moment when one reaches orgasm is the most intense and the most powerful experience a human can have in life? For in that moment, the soul suddenly opens to the divine realm and the breath of God is infused. I needed another to reach divinity."

You rose from the bed, slipping your ripped dress back on and throwing a cloak over yourself. "I simply used you... as you have done to many women in your life, I'm sure. Do not fret, my prince," you smirked.

Daemon stared up at you, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and a hint of grudging admiration. He pushed himself up to sit, his naked body on full display as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

"Used me?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. "I've never been used like this before."

He stood, his cock already starting to harden again at the sight of you, despite his anger. He took a step towards you, his hand reaching out as if to grab you, but he stopped himself.

"What are you?" he demanded, his eyes raking over your form. "What kind of witch are you?"

He snatched up his discarded breeches, roughly pulling them on, his mind reeling from the events of the past hour.

"I should kill you for this," he growled, but there was no real heat behind his words. He knew he couldn't, not now. Not with the bond between you, however unexpected it may be.

"What do you want from me now?" He asked, rage clearly visible in his eyes.

You sauntered over to Daemon, your hips swaying seductively. The rip in your dress left little to the imagination, your full breasts on display for his hungry gaze. You could see the desire warring with the anger in his eyes as you approached.

"Nothing anymore, my prince," you purred, your voice like honey. "My powers have been amplified. I owe you a debt of gratitude for that."

You traced a finger along his jawline, feeling the prickle of his stubble. "Though I wouldn't mind having you take me again. I doubt I'll find another man as virile as you in all of Westeros."

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "You've awakened something in me, Daemon Targaryen. A hunger I never knew I could satisfy."

Your hand slid down his chest, your nails raking lightly over his skin. "I am yours. And I suspect you are mine as well."

You pulled back, your eyes locking with his. "What say you, my dragon?"

Daemon's breath hitched as you touched him, his body responding instantly to your proximity despite his anger. He grabbed your wrist, his grip tight enough to bruise as he glared down at you.

He pulled you closer, his other hand gripping your hip. "You want to be taken again?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll fucking ruin you."

[theoccultmoon]

Friday the 13th: A Witch’s Guide to Magic and Mystery ๋࣭ ⭑ 

Friday the 13th is almost here, and while many people associate this day with superstition or bad luck, in witchcraft, it’s a time of power and transformation. This day is deeply tied to sacred feminine energy, creativity, and rebirth, making it an ideal moment to honor your intuition and engage in meaningful rituals. 

The Magic of Friday the 13th 

Historically, Friday the 13th was far from unlucky, it was a day of celebration! 

☆ Friday: Ruled by Venus, the planet of love, beauty, and creativity. 

☆ The Number 13: Sacred to the Goddess, it symbolizes cycles, transformation, and spiritual awakening. There are 13 lunar cycles in a year, further connecting this number to divine feminine energy. 

This day invites us to reclaim its magical energy, focusing on self-love, manifestation, and intuitive growth. 

How to Work with Friday the 13th Energy 

☆ Cleanse and Ground 

Start your day with a cleansing ritual to clear away negative energy. 

⟡ Tools: Use sage, rosemary, or a cleansing spray. 

⟡ Intention: “I release all fears and superstitions, and welcome abundance, clarity, and love into my life.” 

☆ Ritual for Manifestation and Creativity 

With Venus’s influence, this is the perfect time to focus on love, beauty, and prosperity. 

⟡ Tools: Green or pink candles, rose quartz, cinnamon, or basil. 

⟡ Practice: Write down your desires, focusing on creativity or relationships, and burn the paper in a fire-safe dish to release them into the universe. 

☆ Journaling and Reflection 

Friday the 13th is a great time to honor cycles in your life. 

⟡ Journal prompts:  

What transformations have I undergone this year? 

What do I need to release to step into my power? 

Astrological Insights 

This year’s Friday the 13th falls during Mars retrograde in Leo and Mercury retrograde, adding layers of introspection and reflection. 

⟡ Mars Retrograde: Reflect on how you assert yourself and revisit creative projects. 

⟡ Mercury Retrograde: Focus on revisiting old ideas, reconnecting with loved ones, and practicing patience in communication. 

A Day of Empowerment 

Friday the 13th reminds us that what’s seen as “unlucky” can be reclaimed as sacred and magical. It’s a day to break free from limiting beliefs, honor your inner power, and connect with the cycles of life. 

✨ How do you celebrate Friday the 13th? Share your rituals and practices! I’d love to hear how you embrace its magic! 🌙 

[awritesthings1]

Things That Go Bump in the Night

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Wife Reader

Summary: You ask your husband Tommy if he believes in ghosts. The answer might surprise you.

Warnings: dark, angst, spooky.

ao3 link

-

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

It was near the end of winter, and another autumn of earl grey teas and tireless raking of crunchy leaves was fast approaching Arrow House. Tommy’s peaky cap lived on the coat hanger by the front door, dusted in the faint smell of smog. Gone was the silver razor; the Shelby’s were much too respectable for that anymore. In came the monogram initials, all of which had been carefully handstitched onto cuffs and collars to match golden cufflinks, and out came the fine woolen overcoats.

The weather lay thickly that year over the English countryside, enough to invoke a ghostly mist around the trimmed hedges and shorn grass. A stillness crept in as sly as a cat when the fog came down, covering all life with a sheer dew. The garden retired into a dull combination of cool greens and toe-curling crystal air.

It was at this time of year that the monsters came out to play in their ominously shaped shadows and faint howls. Where there was a tick of movement, an airy silence and childhood fear followed. Tommy would have teased you endlessly for your paranoia if he hadn’t suffered through the same fate after the war. You supposed he had more of a right than you because his fears came from a very real place, and yours were out of superstition.

“Spirits,” Tommy clarified. “Yes, it’s in my blood.”

“But have you ever seen one?”

Tommy turns his head to look at you, squeezing you closer to his chest from where you both lay under the covers.

“Why’d you ask?” His accent was thicker in the morning.

If anyone knew anything about spirits, it would be your husband. He was more superstitious than you due to his gypsy blood. The things he told you about the community were nothing short of witchcraft—charming dogs, telling fortunes, and cursing wrong'uns. It puzzled you at first that your seemingly pragmatic, calculating husband believed nothing short of Madame Boswell’s words as nothing but gospel.

You stared out the window, attempting to conjure up the right words, but shivered instead when his fingers ghosted across your back.

“Well… I don’t know. I don’t think I would believe in something until I saw it for sure with my own two eyes.”

He hummed and smiled lazily. “Why do people believe in God, hm?”

You pressed your lips together and shrugged as best you could in his embrace.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Eh?”

“Have you ever seen a spirit?"

Tommy’s eyes glazed over in thought. It was the answer you dreaded.

“Yes.”

“Were you scared?”

He blinked out of the daze.

“No.”

Your hand moved to rest on the cusp of his cheek.

“What happened?”

He cleared his throat and laced his hand with yours there on his face.

“I was nine. Madame Lovell’s nephew drowned in a lake the day before, and then on the day of the funeral, it rained. I was running back from over the hill when I saw him. He stood there staring at me through the spray of rain.”

Your thumb swiped over the tops of Tommy’s cheekbones.

“You’re certain? Maybe the rain got in your eye, and what you saw was a shadow or maybe even an eyelash in your eye. That happens to me sometimes.”

“I know what I saw.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, then tried to picture the scene for yourself. You stood atop some grassy hill, peering down into the valley. Dark plumes of smoke rose from a small coffin stationed at the bottom of the hill, slivering up through the wildflowers and tree branches to where you stood. Then there, through the smoke and rainfall that blinded your eyes, was the boy who drowned.

“Was he scared?”

A pause, then: “no.”

That night, you settled by your vanity, combing out knots and patting lotion onto your skin. The haunted look of that boy Tommy said he saw lingered in the back of your mind, and every vague shape or shadow shifted in the corner of your eye. Paranoia—that's all it was. You didn’t want to be caught staring at a dark corner like some half-mad crook. Tommy would be crossing the threshold into your room any moment now. Maybe if his last-minute business hadn’t held him up in his office, he would be here with you now, and you wouldn’t be glancing over at that suspicious coat hanging up by the wardrobe. The lamps that were lit didn’t stretch far enough to illuminate the monsters from their hiding spots.

It was a trick of the brain, that’s all.

And surely enough, Tommy’s footsteps were heard down the hall. Your shoulders slumped in relief. The autumn season was only one for the dramatics.

Your hand cream pot clattered onto the vanity, swirling in circles until it came to a stop just as you heard Tommy outside the door. But when you stood to greet him with a kiss, the door to your bedroom remained closed, and the doorhandle remained still.

“You can come in!" You laughed, but a sort of coldness seized your heart with terror when you wondered why Tommy was just standing there on the other side.

“Tommy?” You inquired after a painfully thin stretch of silence.

Again, nothing.

You reached for your comb, holding the long, sharp piece you used to part your hair out like a knife. You weren’t naïve. Tommy had enemies, opportunistic ones, too.

And so you stood there, straining to hear any noise beyond your heartbeat that thundered in your ears. You tried slowing your breathing to hear better, but your eyes then began to water from the strain and your refusal to blink. Then it happened, as abruptly as you imagined. The door burst open. Tommy rushed in, slammed the door shut behind him, and stormed over to the closet without so much a look in your direction.

“Tommy?” You squawked, still seized in terror.

He grunted, shrugging on his overcoat and snatching his leather gloves from the tallboy.

“What’s going on?”

Finally, he paused. His eyes were bloodshot and far away. You feared he looked through you rather than at you. He came closer then, pulling you into his arms and laying a warm kiss on your temple.

“Everything’s ok, darling.”

“Where are you going?” Your voice broke. “Did something happen?”

“No…” He hushed. “No.”

“Then where are you going? It’s still dark outside!”

He sighed into your disheveled hair, then pulled away.

“I need to check on one of the horses. Get into bed; I’ll be back soon.”

You clutched his lapels in protest. “No!”

He said your name sternly: “I really need to go. Frances is in her room if you need anything.”

“Tommy, I heard something!” Then, you lowered your voice so only he could hear, “I think someone’s in the house.”

He pulled you in by the scruff of your neck. “No one’s here, love. It’s just us and Frances.”

His boots thud severely against the wooden floor to the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

Begrudgingly, you let him leave and confined yourself to the bed, pulling the covers over your face like a small child afraid of the dark. You left all the lights on, determined to let any intruders know that yes, you were home, and yes, you would see them coming. Tommy would be back soon, and if Tommy didn’t suspect anything amiss, he was probably right.

But the grandfather clock in the other room kept ticking, tick tick tick, and little fairies scampered about in the garden below. The moon’s solemn gaze glared judgingly through the windows, past the squinting shutters, and onto your skin. Ink from family portraits bled into one horrifying mess of shadows. You threw back the hungry covers, which seemed to be swallowing you whole, and knocked your shoulder into the jaw of the door (you had mistaken it for being further than it really was). A teacup flew off a shelf, but you dodged it with one ugly turn of your ankle.

Then you ran down the winding stairs, through the narrowing hallway, and out the chattering front doors of Arrow House. A lustrous mist had fallen over the land, thick enough that your arms whipped around senselessly, blinded by the clouded night, in your attempt to trek to the stables.

The stable gates were banging back and forth by the time you reached them. They whack your behind when you pass them, and you would’ve cried if it weren’t for the airy atmosphere peeling the moisture from your eyes.

“Tommy!”

A clack of hooves answered you.

Your feet burned despite the bitter cold, swelling with each step. Still in your nightgown, the elements worked together, clawing, scratching, and biting at your bare skin. The swell of a draft caught the tip of your nose, and you whipped around just in time to see a coat disappearing around the back of the stable where the paddock was.

Fear acted like a glaze of sweltering iron, hissing the rhythm out of your heart.

“I can see you!” You tried to warn as if you were the hunter and not the hunted.

Leather hands wrapped around your shoulders from behind.

“Are you insane, eh?” Tommy’s gruff voice scolded in your ear.

You turned around to crumple into his embrace.

“Tommy, something’s not right about this house.”

“Is that why you’re out here? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

It could have been a ghost, a careful soulless thing—a soundless haunting memory with no cause for action, warping around the edges of reality. It was then a great whipping lash of winter lakes and violent snowflakes cut into the lines of your knuckles and sliced beneath your skin.

Your lips moved sometime after that, or maybe it was before; you couldn’t remember. Nothing seemed to make sense. The man in the moon wound away your surroundings one by one, like a fisherman with his catch on a hook.

“What?”

“You don’t remember, do you?”

“Remember what, Tommy?”

Silence held a knife to your neck.

“Out in the paddock..." His dark, long eyelashes brushed earnestly along his high-cut cheekbones, and you feared the thought that had seemingly paralyzed your husband from saying any more. If it weren’t already dark, a shadow might’ve passed over his features.

A fountain of words prepared to gush out, but you slipped on a puddle that appeared around your feet. You stepped back with a gasp. It wasn’t raining.

“I’m sorry, my love. I should’ve listened to you.”

The puddle kept growing. Words turned into water.

“What the fuck is happening, Tommy?"

His thumb brushed the apple of your cheek.

“I’ll avenge you. I will.”

You cried.

“Shhh, don’t be afraid, darling." Tommy kissed your ice-cold forehead.

You choked. Water: water pooled out of your mouth and suffocated your lungs. You couldn't breathe.

“Go back to bed for me, eh?”

All over your nightgown—water, water, water.

The horse trough out in the paddock, the goldfish swimming past your cheek, straw in your teeth, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, no response, no one, the weight of a hand tangling in your hair, air, air, air, no air.

Drip, drip, drip.

Water in your eyes, ears, nose, mouth—

You never saw them coming.

“I promise, love. I’ll get the bastards that…”

He choked as if he were also choking on water, water, water.

“I never saw them coming, Tommy,” you hiccupped, but it was all water, water, water—

“I know.”

Gurgling.

“I just wanted to find you.”

“I know, I know.”

They pinned your arms back.

“The fucking water trough, Tommy!”

He swallowed painfully.

You couldn’t see him anymore. His face had washed away in your straw, goldfish, blood, water, water, water, tears. Blindly, you traced under his eyes and felt his salty, grief, widowed, water tears.

There’s so much tears and sorrow there in that stable that it begins pouring from outside and through the roof. Most days it was in the paddock, but tonight it was here.

Frances, the housekeeper, watched from her window. On these types of nights, when Arrow House became entrapped in a spell and rain drizzled over the countryside, Thomas Shelby would squelch across the overgrown grass to the paddock behind the stable before disappearing. Where he went, she didn’t know. The hazy sheet of mist left much to the imagination. What he saw out there? She didn’t know either. The poor bastard probably just missed his wife.

Frances briefly left her room to peer into Mr. Shelby’s. Letting out a sigh of relief, the room appeared untouched, still frozen in the state Mrs. Shelby left it when she went out to find her husband that tragic night. The sheets were still tossed aside, the teacup still shattered on the ground, her comb still waiting on the bedside table.

Satisfied with her findings, she turned to leave when—

What’s that?

A puddle.

There must be a leak somewhere.

Oh well, she’ll see to it in the morning.

With that, she quietly crept away to her room and fell back asleep, undisturbed by the chattering shutters or creaking floorboards. Not even the ghostly cries down the hall woke her.

After all, there was no such thing as ghosts, only things that went bump in the night.

-

Taglist: @maliceofwonderland , @fairytale07 , @goblinjnr , @ilovepeoplesdads , @multidimensionalslut , @blogforficslol

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Life's Pleasures (S.R.)

Summary: Spencer struggles with some side effects of his medication after prison. Request: Spencer being insecure about his weight gain post prison. Couple: Spencer Reid/GN!Reader Category: Comfort Content Warning: Weight gain, body insecurity  Word Count: 800

MASTERLIST

Spencer was a creature of habit more than he was of comfort. Call it superstition or autistic tendencies, even the slightest alteration to his routine could have catastrophic results.

Unsurprisingly, three months in prison did little to help him with those feelings. In fact, they made them much worse.

Despite the best efforts of yourself and the entire BAU, there was no question that Spencer needed help. Thanks very much to each of you, however, he had finally felt okay adding a small capsule to his daily routine.

It was nothing he was ashamed of. Unfortunately, however, that magical little concoction of neurotransmitters had a few… unintended side effects. He hadn’t said anything about it yet, but you had watched his favorite clothing got tighter until he couldn’t bear to wear it anymore.

You were acutely aware of how sensitive he would be with such a dramatic change. So, that Sunday, when you see Spencer padding out in his favorite pair of Saturday-specific sweats, you try to be kind.

“Hey handsome!” you call.

He is caught off guard enough to smile.

“What did I do to deserve you in sweats on a Sunday?”

His smile falls just as quickly. His bashfulness turns into a sadness that feels all-encompassing.

“My pants don’t fit,” he mutters as he toys with the drawstring.

“Lucky me,” you joke.

Spencer doesn’t respond like you’d hoped. In fact, he doesn’t react at all. He just stays staring at the string that is shorter than normal. He doesn’t even notice that you’re approaching him until your palms are pressed against his cheeks.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you whisper.

He winces.

“I just…”

You give him a small reassuring smile and it stirs something in him. Some small shift out of his self-preservation instinct and back into the comfort of your embrace.

“I know I’m getting older, and stress does a lot of damage, and that can always manifest as weight gain,” he rambles.

He leaves out the medicated nature of it all, but you don’t bother to correct him. You just listen as he continues.

“But my body’s never been like this. It’s never changed like this, even during puberty,” he scoffs.

You chuckle at the sound and the image conjured up from faded scrapbook pictures.

Spencer smiles too—just for a second—before he remembers that he is sad.

“It’s just… it’s happening so… fast,” he says like a whimper.

After a moment, you shrug. He seems almost offended by the motion until you explain.

“That’s okay, Spencer,” you whisper, “It’s okay if you have a hard time adjusting to change.”

His shoulders fall as he releases a shaky breath. Relief starts to creep back into his body, despite his fingers still twiddling with the string.

You look down at it and laugh because it is so much like how he used to be. A little bit better, even.

“You just need to remind yourself that… They’re good changes,” you insist as your hands fall and glide around his waist. It’s soft and pliant and reminds you of the peace you find when you lay in bed together.  You remember the smile he wore the first day he woke up without fearing the sound of a buzzer. You think about how he doesn’t seem afraid of his phone anymore.

When you look back up at him, your eyes linger on the subtle curve of his lips before they settle on teary eyes.

“You’re finally taking care of yourself the way you deserve, so things are going to look different,” you whisper before pulling him closer. You sway with his body, still perfectly him despite not looking exactly the same.  “And for what it’s worth, I happen to think you look wonderful.”

Spencer drops the string to hold you, instead. He chuckles, a soft and bashful noise that reminds you of the first time you met.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he sighs in defeat.

To console him, you provide another simple offering.

“Sweatpants, donuts, coffee full of sugar and syrup,” you hum, “I don’t know about you, but… I can get used to a life like that.”

“They’re nice, but…” he trails off. His body pulls away so that he can see that loving look in your eyes. The last bit of tension releases from weary muscles. Spencer gently rests his palm against your cheek. It’s warm and soft and exactly like it used to be before the scars.

“Of all of life’s pleasures,” he wonders aloud, “I still think you’re my favorite.”

You quickly note the conditional word.

“You think?”

This time when he smiles, it is brilliant and not at all bashful.

“Donuts are pretty good,” he jokes.

It’s such a beautiful sound that you don’t even have to wonder.

“You’re better,” you mumble against still-sweet lips.

And it only gets better from there.

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for more to read? Check out my wonderful friend @spencer-reids-adventures's take on this request here!

Reid Taglist: @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @trippol-threat , @will-byers-needs-a-hug

Complete Taglist: @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme

Thanks for reading!

[follows-the-bees]

I wanna talk about Jim's journey. Their character arc is one of my favorites of the show.

In season one, Jim fits into two very well-trodded tropes and each one is subverted by the end.

First, we have the trope of a person (typically a woman) disguised as a man to go into hiding and also the old wives tale of no women on ships because they bring bad luck. We see some of this attitude through Frenchie's superstitions but the trope is subverted fairly quickly when Jim talks to them about wanting to be just Jim and the crew (and Nana) effortlessly use they pronouns.

OFMD has many, many ties to classic Western tropes and style of filmmaking. And Jim's whole character arc of season one fits the Revenge trope.

They have been trained to be a killer, hardened by life, only open to Olu but even that openness is just a sliver. When Jim is spurred on by Nana to complete that Revenge arc, they fall into it, leaving the safety of the ship, the community built there, from Olu.

But instead of more killing, Jim comes to an understanding with Spanish Jackie. They share a drink (which oftentimes in Westerns ends in a gunfight, unlike the show which starts with a knife fight and ends with communal drinking). Upon hearing that most of the men they are after are likely already dead, Jim decides to put down that knife and instead returns to the aptly named Revenge.

But in perfect subversions of tropes, Jim does choose Revenge, but not the type that eats at your soul and often ends in unhappiness or death. Rather, they are choosing community and softness.

Jim is one of Stede's loudest critics at the beginning of season one; Stede represents the opposite of how Jim was raised and once viewed the world.

But the beginning of season two shows how much Stede's way of piracy has influenced Jim. They no longer are following the Western Revenge storyline, but rather serving as the storyteller to the crew. (A direct parallel to the pilot.)

In fact Jim is reciting that same exact story that Stede told in the pilot. But it is different, darker. And that is because Jim is a different person, and in a different, darker environment at the moment. But invoking those good times that they remember. S1 Jim would have never told a story to try and make a crew member feel better.

We see Jim continue to choose kindness, mercy, grace with several characters. With Izzy, who is a dick but is their dick. And yes, also with Ed, until Ed's plan of suicide by crew now has affected and threatened their lives.

They also seem to be the first to realize what Ed is doing. And they refuse to kill Archie, who was drawn to them because of Jim's hope.

Jim's journey the rest of the season fills me with warmth. They get to be soft, they reunite with Olu, and form the cutest polycule with Olu and Archie. They also intervene and talk to the Pirate Queen about Olu, repairing their status.

The giant smiles on their moustached face during Calypso's Birthday, handing out drinks to the captain and Ed (showing the repaired relationship there), dancing with their lovers, and cheering on Izzy's singing shows how free Jim (and the whole crew) get to be now.

Jim is the embodiment of how Stede has tried to change piracy, of how Stede's effect has created a community.

Jim is the embodiment of the queer joy that this show unabashedly embraces.

[see-arcane]

I am almost fine with people saying he has one brain cell, because I have seen dozens of people make the worse claim that he is "an arrogant, smug, proud of his rationality Victorian who laughs at the locals for their superstitions."

It is such a prevalent assesment that it's now considered a core character trait of his. When today's entry indicates nothing of the sort.

UH OH, YOU’VE ACTIVATED MY TANGENT CARD

(Text Brick Incoming)

Jonathan’s fundamental flaw at this stage does involve looking down on or viewing the locals and their traditions as quaint/idolatrous/ridiculous et al. He uses poor terminology too, owing to the Doylist reason of his author’s knowledge and biases, while the Watsonian reason is easy enough to read as Jonathan 1) Having to rely solely on biased/incomplete knowledge from his homeland’s writings on the place and 2) What I think is him trying to overcompensate as a trained reflex

I’ve always pictured Jonathan and Mina as having not only a lower social and monetary standing, but possibly a hindrance of race. (Case in point, I suspect a certain unique prop Jonathan brandishes later on is something he inherited, not something picked up by happenstance.)

That said—they are poor, they are not the idealized picture of the fair English Citizen…but they are both polite, charming, hardworking, and masters of ~making friends~ as a defense mechanism. And I’d bet money that included relying on what few positive nods their peers allowed.

“You’re so nice! So industrious! Your physiognomy really counters your origins! And you are wise enough to look down on those silly foreigners, aren’t you? Of course you are! You’re one of the good ones.”

Now, regardless of what headcanon is landed on as far as race/ethnicity/other backgrounds go, those last points are key. Because they go towards Being a Good Englishman/woman. Being wiser than to buy into fretting non-English superstitions. Knowing to ogle the people of other lands like curiosities in a zoo. Judging people by their face or the shape of their skull. This is the Norm. This is Good of the Victorian Englishman Abroad.

And we see Jonathan hold to all these stereotypes…to a degree. But we see within these same early entries that his instincts and general good nature chafe against that social training. He’s too much himself to do entirely as a Proper Englishman should.

He went out of his way to study all the limited info he had access to, incomplete or half-informed as it was. He delighted in learning everything he could of the places and people as he traveled, wanting to embrace and be educated on the land. And even when a lifetime of advising against it, of insistence upon derision, tried to take over when the crucifix was offered? He still accepted it. He still wears it even when the old woman departs, whether or not he believes in its importance.

And, vitally, his instincts are very Very awake to the fact that Something is Off. A Proper Englishman (and many an oblivious or stubborn dad in a ghostly horror movie) would shrug this unease off at once. But Jonathan doesn’t. He remains on Dracula’s route only because he has no other choice. All he does is mention quietly that he hopes Mina gets his diary if he happens to die on this journey.

Imagine that. Bracing for and acknowledging the sense that You Might Die on This Little Business Trip and just…having to go along with it. Because what will you tell your boss otherwise? What will you tell your fiancée?

These aren’t the concerns of a well-off stuffy snob of a man. It’s the resignation of someone who understands they live on the lowest rung of the ladder and that they will risk losing what little progress they’ve made if they dare to turn back.

As for sneering at the locals’ superstitions, period, consider: How likely would anyone really be to suddenly believe in monsters after coming out of the background Jonathan has? What could possibly have convinced him of the reality of the situation OTHER THAN SEEING IT IN PERSON? (Note, a key plot point for certain other characters later!)

The point of his being unable to take the supernatural aspect at face value is that, well, Why Would Anyone Immediately Jump to a Supernatural Conclusion in His Place?

What possible context does he have here!? Maybe he should have read Dracula first, ha ha—

Oh wait. He can’t do that. Why?

Because this man has never read Dracula BECAUSE HE IS LIVING AND WRITING THE BOOK DRACULA!!

Anyway.

tl;dr: I am very tired of both the Stuffy Victorian Snobprick and Oblivious Idiotbaby takes on my good friend Jonathan Harker