#probably for studying dark magic

[lobeliamaximoff]

Kalakai&Agatha + blood moon

[kncrowder88]

I mean, not only does he create spells he also creates counter spells. Like, yeah it's learning how to defend oneself from things (we don't know when the spells were made beyond 6th year nor what - sectumsempra just says enemies, yes Marauders were likely viewed that way but enemies could also mean dangerous magical creatures that magic doesn't usually work on). He created a healing spell for it, he also is brilliant at potions - used for healing - and he is brilliant at healing curses (as seen when Dumbledore's hand gets cursed).

This is a man who doesn't just pull a casual "let me walk around with a knife on me for defense" but also pulls a "let me ensure I know how to perform life saving skills in case I end up needing to utilize combative skills, so I can ensure someone doesn't die unless necessary" --- you know unlike the individuals we see sending him at a werewolf or banging his head into ceilings.

A map being made supposedly just to sneak around is bad but it also shows they were able to spy, stalk, and invade privacy (Harry demonstrates that uses himself).

But we actively see the disregard for others safety through other actions as well. Snape at least actively shows he cares about safety (even as a member of Hogwarts staff despite how much he loathes his job and isn't fond of kids he actively seeks for the safety of the students).

Blaming Snape for creating Sectumsempra is like blaming a woman for carrying pepper spray in her bag for self-defense after being repeatedly harassed by a specific group of men. Can you really blame a victim for creating a weapon to protect themselves against their tormentors, while at the same time praising the Marauders' ingenuity for creating tools to spy on, stalk, and invade others' privacy purely for fun and bullying?

What kind of ridiculous logic is that?!

[nightingale-prompts]

God Summoning 101- DCxDP Prompt

"Don't. Touch. Anything." Constantine said firmly looking at the alter.

Recently there had been activity of dark magic users had been reported in this cave system and as expected it was full of cultists. They had discovered the writings of an ancient god or demon and started worshipping it. They had intended to summon it when the Justice League got involved after people started going missing. Currently, the captives who are thankfully all alive are being evacuated from the underground.

Constantine was here to study the alter and find the true name of the creature that the cultists call the "Infinite God."

"Looks deceptively simple. You place an offering and the guy shows up to fulfill your wish." Constantine said reading the sigils "That is if they want to."

"Its can't be that simple. There has to be a catch." Batman said coming back inside after helping the captives into the hands of the officers.

"The only catch I can see is that the god cares a lot about what the offering is and the person giving it. They seem to not respond to just anyone. My concern are the epithets." Constantine said deep in thought.

"The what?" Superman asked glancing over Constantine's shoulder.

"The title. Every god has many. Its specifies what vertion of the god you are appealing to. Even Aphrodite had a warrior counterpart. You must specify whether you are asking Apollo for inspiration, light or health." Wonder Woman chided.

"Yes, same goes here. Getting the right version of this god seems to depend on the offering. But these stupid fucks had no idea what to put on the altar. That's why they tried kidnapping people." Constantine sighed looking around the room.

The cave was decked out in hundreds of different offerings to appeal to the god and but so far the deity hadn't responded. He listed the items and the versions they probably wanted to see.

Next to the altar was a vase of flowers and herbs. Each one was different with different meanings.

Amaranth- Immortality

Anemone- Sickness

Lily-Death

Cowslip- Mischief

Hydrangeas-Wealth

Narcissus-Beauty

Rose-Love

Red poppy- War

There were others but most of these flowers were stuff Constantine had learned from trivia or reading about them in passing.

He didn't get to study anymore because-

"Guys all the capti-" Flash ran in and the wind caused the vase to topple over and a single flower to land on the alter.

The room began to shake as a portal opened.

(You go from here. Chose whatever flower landed.)

[fanaroff]

Dp x DC Prompt: Space Like An Ocean

An alien had taken up residence outside of the Watchtower. Its first appearance immediately started a panic with most of the heroes that could survive in space converging on the station to see whether it was friend or foe. In the end, it did not seem either.

In fact, it seemed fine with just basking and napping wrapped around parts of the Watchtower that made up the outside. It wasn’t the size of the Watchtower, but off and on it was a very near thing.

Humanoid, yet distinctly inhuman. White whispy hair sat atop its head, pointed ears, and the only feature that could be made out of its face were two bright green glowing eyes. A color that sent Batman into a research frenzy. Its skin was void-dark. Almost looking as if a piece of space itself had separated from the cosmos and took and almost snake-like form. Or maybe an eel?

The most notable thing about the creature were its injuries. Multiple lacerations covered it, leaking a green that never touched the Watchtower and seemed to evaporate not long after leaving its body. Any silent attempts to collect it for study and to figure out what it was were met with emotionless green eyes and a bare hint of fang. They backed off quickly.

Flash liked to call it a mer-eel. “Cause it’s got an almost human torso, two arms, and the rest just kind of curls up!”

Wonder Woman was unimpressed with this. “That would suggest it is more like a naga.”

To which Green Lantern replied, “No, no, he’s right. There’s an almost white fin-like bit that goes down the tail like an eel’s does.”

Any more attempts to identify the creature led to nothing and soon the “eel” became a silent fixture of the Watchtower.

It was ages later when Zatanna entered the Watchtower to discuss a completely non-connected case when she stumbled immediately upon leaving the Zeta Tube and had to lean against a wall, breathing heavily.

“Something feels like Death.” Was all she could get out before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she dropped to the ground. She wouldn’t wake up, dead asleep. Immediate worry all around lead to Justice League Dark being contacted in full.

Constantine with Deadman in tow were ultimately the ones to solve the mystery. It took but a moment for Deadman to be seen thanks to Constantine’s “magic” and awe was the first thing apparent on his face. Deadman didn’t even need to leave the Watchtower to know what it was.

“Oh,” he whispered like a prayer. “So that’s where he goes when he takes a break.”

Queue questioning.

“He” turned out to be Phantom, the Ghost King who had apparently decided the Watchtower was a perfect basking spot. Confusion was abound at this.

“No, see,” Deadman tried to explain. “He has two Obsessions and the Watchtower feeds into both. Heroes who protect, as he is a protector spirit himself and probably feels a kinship, and space.”

Constantine and Deadman explained as best as they could, but when the questions finally settled, the last was “Why isn’t Constantine affected like Zatanna? Why aren’t the rest of them affected like Zatanna?”

“That’s easy!” Deadman piped. “None of you are attuned to death magic! I’m a ghost, he’s my King. Zatanna is a magician with experience in most magics. And Constantine doesn’t own enough of his soul to feel the death!”

In the end, a request from Deadman was all it took for things to change. With barely a rumble, Phantom pulled himself from the Watchtower and drifted far enough away for his aura to no longer affect Zatanna. The heroes could only watch in awe as the eel-like god returned to the open ocean of space.

Addition:

There were a giant green eyes observing the conference room. Every hero inside was frozen in place, staring back at the eyes and trying their best not to move a muscle. Phantom had moved from atop the station. Phantom had acknowledged them. Phantom was staring at them from a window of the Watchtower.

No one knew why he was there. Just that suddenly he was. The bright green lighting the entire room with its shine was the only warning they got. They stared. He stared.

Slowly, he moved. A hand-shape pointed with a claw. They were confused. The hand made a pointing motion again.

The table?

Ah. Several shards of kryptonite sat on the table. The topic of the discussion as someone had somehow gotten ahold of the shards and used them against Superman. They needed to know who supplied them.

The hand pointed again.

Why did Phantom want the shards?

Apparently, it wasn’t up to them to question as the pointing hand phased into the room, palm up. Waiting. No one moved for a moment until a white narrowed slit formed in Phantom’s eyes.

Green Lantern was quick to grab the shards (Batman made a token protest, those were his damn it) and placed them in the palm. He shivered as his finger brushed the skin, ice cold washing up and down his spine.

The hand closed, retracted and approached the face. The eyes stared as a large mouth opened (fangs, sharp sharp fangs laid in green) and a tongue popped out. The shards were placed on the tongue and the mouth closed with a sharp crunch.

Phantom grinned almost smugly before he drifted away from the window and back to the top of the Watchtower.

“Did- Did Phantom just ask for a snack?”

[kekewrites]

tw. Dark content, noncon, dubcon, creampie, size kink, magic onahole/toy/fleshlight, coercion, mind-break, corruption, obsession, gaslighting(?), objectification(?)

part 2 of the onahole troupe

***

"Sweetie~ Are you already out? Come on, you can still keep going."

Hot... It's so hot.

Whining, your body continue to bounce on him, hole swallowing his fat cock. Sweat and cum staining your thighs, sticky and wet as it mixes with your juices.

Such a hot sight. His hands gripping your hips, helping you bounce on him and sometimes meeting your hips with his own, making you whine and sob.

You were so sensitive, having no idea how much time have passed. How many orgasm he pulled out of you.

"I'm helping you, remember?" He sat up, wrapping his arms around as he pulls you close. "Ha... You're so cute. That bastard won't touch you anymore, ok? I'm here."

Barely hanging on, you nodded as your ears started to ring. If there was still a rational part of you awake, you would've find his words suspicious, but you were just too dumb for that. Blindly trusting your friend, believing him with your being.

He promised to help you.

So why does it feel like you made the wrong choice?

That tiny rational thought of yours was pushed as you felt his lips on your own.

***

It was odd how the phantom disappeared after his help.

Your complexion improved, the shadows under your eyes fading as if the weight of their presence had been slowly draining you all along. Sleep came easier now, uninterrupted by restless nights and unwanted pleasure, able to focus studying without it whisking your attention away.

Sitting in class, you were finally able to listen without dreading for the touches.t was freeing.

You were glad you told him.

Smiling a bit, you open your cellphone as you think of hanging out with them. You really missed them, thinking about how you three rarely hang out nowadays. It used to be so easy to hang out with your closest friends, without having to plan anything elaborate. Just a quick text, and before you knew it, you were all together. But lately, it was about you two without your more or less busy friend. You know how much he took his studies seriously, often holding back to invite him whenever you discover a film you'd both like to watch.

Determined, you found yourself texting him, sending him a little message of, "Are you busy? Let's meet at the library when it's lunch time!"

You nervously shifted on your sit as you await his reply, a minute after you feel your phone vibrate.

"Sure."

You couldn't wait for the class to be over.

***

"Hey, what's up?" You heard his voice as he sat down beside you. Your usual hangout spot, comfort place, and your solace before those events happened.

Beaming, you turned to him, grateful for the simple presence of someone you're comfortable with.

"Are you done with your studies? I was hoping we could hangout soon, all three of us..." You speak, your confidence dipping down as you let out the last part.

Resting his chin on his hand, "Hmm... We have a quiz for next week in my major," He observes as your smile fades, "But I suppose, I'll make time for you," He swears it's like watching a dog wag its tail as he see you regain your smile.

It couldn't hurt to relax a little, it's been a while since you two hangout. He did notice how you were with that stupid guy in the past few days

You softly clap your hands, "That's great! Oh, we should do a movie marathon!" As you babble your plans, he couldn't help but notice how more... alive you look compared to before. He was still wondering why you were so troubled back then, but he's glad you got it solved out.

Humming, you started typing on the notes in your phone, making plans and listing movies to watch, throwing in snacks to buy as well. It was safe to say that you're really excited to be able to be with your best friends.

It would be just a fun night with the guys, right?

***

"Come on, don't be upset. Something probably important came out that he won't be able to come."

It seems that the three of you wouldn't be able to hangout, as the two of you sit on the couch.

Grumbling, you hug the couch pillow close to your chest as you glance at the text message left by your friend. It was upsetting but you couldn't be that upset since he rarely wasn't able to come in your hangout session, and since he's the one who helped you after all.

"Yeah, you're right. It can't be helped, I guess…" you sigh, trying to hide your disappointment as you sink further into his couch. The soft fabric and cozy atmosphere of his apartment help ease your mood a bit.

"I'm sure the three of us will meet up soon. Plus, the two of us haven't hangout for a while."

Come on, it's not so bad to be alone with him, you know?

"Yeah, that's true," you say, trying to shake off the disappointment. You steal a glance at him as he queues up a movie. It's been a while since the two of you just hung out alone like this, and despite the change in plans, it feels nice.

As the movie starts, you realize he accidentally picked a horror film—complete with dark shadows, creepy music, and plenty of jump scares. You’re both laughing it off at first, but the sudden shocks get you clutching the couch pillow a bit tighter, scooting unconsciously closer to him.

The atmosphere shifts when an unexpected scene appears—a moment that’s more... explicit than either of you anticipated. You feel your face heat up as you quickly avert your eyes, feeling a mix of embarrassment and tension settle between you. You catch him glancing away too, clearing his throat nervously.

What is he, five? Getting flustered with such scene, not like he hasn't done any worse than it.

"I... think I need to use the bathroom," he mumbles, standing up hastily and heading out of the room, leaving you alone on the couch.

You’re left there, pulse racing slightly as you try to shake off the awkwardness.

This is bad, you suddenly remember all of your other friend's help. Clutching your legs close, you try to avert your attention somewhere while waiting for your friend to come back.

Though, you felt your stomach drop as that familiar and unwelcome touch came up.

***

What the hell is he even thinking?

He tries to find his reason as he stares at the onahole on his hand, that idiot's gift to him. It's been a week since he had last use this thing, yeah it felt good and feels like the real deal but after one use he never touched it again.

So why the hell is he using it while thinking of you? The same girl who's sitting on his couch right now, in his apartment?

His eyes glance at the lube on the counter, putting the wet lotion on his free hand. It's your fault he got hard, you were too squirmy and... cute. That shitty horror movie wasn't even that good with the corny soft porn scenes but you... were just having an effect on him. So damn shy and innocent reactions, he needed to get out before he'd lost his composure and pounce on you.

But he's not a brute, no he isn't like those rabid animals.

Imagining does not count, no, no, he's only letting his frustration out.

So with the touch of his fingers, rubbing the entrance of the onahole he let himself go.

***

Jumping from the couch, you looked around frantically as you felt that horrifying touch on your nether region. 

That's impossible! You though he already fixed it!

Silently crying on your hands, you tried to keep your noises.

You've experienced that ghostly touch countless times however this time, it felt a bit calculative yet desperate, as if another entity was touching you. It felt weird but you can feel how different this one was touching you.

Is there another ghost who's harassing you?

Will it ever go away?

You cried as you felt something big goes inside you.

***

Shit, he forgot how realistic this onahole was. When was the last time he used it? Weeks ago? He doesn't remember but he might use it again now. Since his darling is always inviting him to hangout, this little gift might save him from pouncing on you when you're just a little too cute for his liking. Not only that but because of the hectic projects and assignments coming in, he hasn't had the time to relieve himself.

His thrust is fast and uncaring, yet a bit desperate for release. He felt himself feeling more sensitive as he imagine if this was your cunt instead, squeezing and twitching around his cock. He loves how automated this thing was, his mind just running wild as he imagines you sitting alone in his couch unsuspected of his vulgar and filthy thought of you. It's wrong but it damn this onahole just feels so right.

Slamming himself on the tight hole, he pinch the little clit and felt the walls squeeze tight making him come undone. Hissing and twitching as his cock shoots down his massive load inside the toy. What a waste, it would've been better if he could shoot it down your womb. Exhaling, he slowly pulled out of the toy, savoring the way the wall clung on his shaft before his head pops off.

Fuck. He's really a goner now. 

He's no better than a scumbag for letting his mind wander to thoughts about his best friend, his childhood friend… his first crush, his first and only love. He remembers how he was when you two first met—a boy who struggled to connect with anyone. He didn’t see the point in making friends, preferring to stay on the sidelines, reserved and detached.

Though, him, was the exception as both of their parents were business partners and have good relationship with each other. It's only natural for them to build a connection, solely for maintaining good connections with their business partners. Over time, he realized how strangely alike the two of them were, as if they shared the same quirks and preferences.

Well, he shouldn't think of that while thrusting his dick on a toy but he can't help but reflect on the way they are alike. He certainly knows, that guy shares the same affection he has on you, and he hated how he can't feel jealous because... he's fine with sharing you if it's him. But he's a little pissed at how you two were hanging out lately, he only have himself to blame by taking his studies seriously unlike that guy.

That's not important now, he has you in his room alone with no one else to ruin your moment with him. Shit, he felt the toy tighten around him.

His mind goes blank as he felt himself getting closer.

***

"Hey, sorry I took a while, but I'm... back?" he said, sitting down on the couch. His voice trailed off, quieter and confused, as he noticed you hugging yourself with your head hung low.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, placing a hand on your back as he tried to see your face. His eyes narrowed as he waited for your response, only to widen when he saw your tear-streaked face.

"I-It... touched me again..."

"What do you mean?"

And you broke down, crying as you told him about the phantom.

Any sane person would be skeptical, hell they would probably put you in the asylum for the things you swore happened to you. He'd get you help if it weren't for that one specific detail, an oddly timed and complete coincidence. Where that phantom touched you the same time he had gotten the toy... and the way it touch you just minutes later he went to the bathroom.

No way...

Surely, it was just a coincidence...

He supposed testing that theory wouldn't hurt.

With a lousy excuse of getting you a glass of water from the kitchen, he went straight to the bathroom to take that toy, sure it was big enough to be seen by you, but the way you were staring down on the floor as you quietly sob made it easy to sneakily place the onahole behind the couch pillow. Close for his hand to touch but unnoticeable from your teary eyes.

His hand goes behind the pillow right where the toy is.

"Ah!"

It can't be... Such an impossible story.

"J-Just now... it touched me!"

His finger went in.

"No! It went inside...!"

This is crazy.

He knows it's wrong but watching you panic and look around with frantic and terrified eyes made his cock throb. Not knowing that the source of your trouble being right in front of you made it immoral, so bad, and it made his cock harden.

"Hey, I'll... chase out that bastard for you." His wandering finger pulls out of the toy, his other hand cupping your tear stained cheek, "You don't have to worry anymore. You said that guy made that phantom disappear, right?" He sweetly cooed, a rare tone in his voice, "Just trust me on this one like he'd done with you, yeah?"

Your back gently hits the couch as he straddles you, "Be a good girl and relax, I'm just going to help you."

Doubt and wariness swirls in that doe eyes of yours. He can see the uncertainty in that stupid head of yours, but he knew you'd agree with him. You always do.

"O-Ok... Please help me."

And he's right about that.

You're just too trusting, aren't you? Stupid girl.

It's your fault he's like this to you.

All your fault.

There’s a faint metallic click as his belt buckle comes undone, and the soft rasp of fabric follows as he frees himself from his pants. His cock springs free, the swollen head brushing against your inner thigh. He can't believe he's finally doing this. The girl he ever wanted right beneath him, all bare and for him to ruin.

It's fucked up how he doesn't feel guilty for doing this, doesn't feel guilty as he rubs his tip on your wet entrance. Everything about you is soft, the only thing he's afraid to do is to bruise your pretty skin. He can feel your breathe quicken, you heart thumping in anxiety and he smiles at that.

"I'll be... gentle." For now.

The blunt head nudges against your entrance, the slick heat of your hole enveloping him inch by inch as he presses into you slowly. Fuck. It's completely different from a toy. He wished he'd done it sooner, the walls of your inside and the wall of the toy was like night and day. His cock pulses within them, the heat and tightness driving him to the edge of his patience. Hissing in pleasure as your walls clenched around him.

"So cute..."

With that, he leaned down, his lips pressing against you. His tongue invaded your mouth, claiming you, owning you, just as his cock claimed your body. He knows he should let you adjust and wait for you to be ready but hell he'd wait for more than a second. Setting a fast pace, fucking into you with abandon, his hand gripping your hip hard enough to leave bruises-- the one he was dreaded on doing. He panted, his head thrown back in ecstasy. 

If it were that easy, he should've done this sooner. Manipulated that stupid head of yours, your naivety being the one who'd get you in trouble when you were younger.

It was different back then when he was alone. Socializing was unnecessary and draining, didn't have any purpose or value to him. He supposed having one friend is enough, he didn’t have patience for others, especially kids his age who, to him, seemed immature and exhausting.

Then you came along with your bright smile, bold laugh, and endearing quirks. You weren’t stunning or wealthy, and your background was humble—a stark contrast to his world. And yet, every time you called him by that silly nickname you made up, something in his chest stirred, an ache he couldn’t ignore. A foolish girl, treating him as if he were just another friend, another kid to play with.

So why can’t he push you away? You're just like any other kid who wants his attention. So why is it so hard to say no to you?

You're the one driving him crazy. So you only have yourself to blame, this is only happening because you're letting him. You're the one doing this to your self.

He could feel the pleasure building, the pressure in his balls as he neared his release.

"Be my onahole, ok?" He demanded, his voice rough with lust. He needed to hear you say it, needed to know that you understood.

Your mind was swirling, head foggy as the pleasure was starting to mix with the confusion. As your cries grew louder, body writhing beneath him, he felt his own orgasm approaching. He could feel the heat building, the tingling in his toes as his balls drew up tight.

O-Onahole? What's that? What is he talking about?

"Everyday, you'll be my onahole." he panted, his words punctuated by the sound of flesh meeting flesh, the obscene squelch of his cock pumping in and out of your pussy. "I'll save you from that phantom, ok?"

I don't know anything....

"Ok?!" he warns, hips losing their rhythm as his climax approaches, "Shit...!"

"Ah! I-I will! I'll become your onahole!"

With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside, his cock pulsing as he empties himself deep in your womb. He holds you tight against his chest, grinding into you to prolong the waves of pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so good for me," He praises breathlessly, peppering your sweat-dampened neck with kisses. "Taking my cock so well, milking me dry. That phantom is gone now that I'm with you."

All you could feel was the light kisses trailing on your neck to your cheek and finally on your lips.

"One more time? I mean you are my onahole now."

***

"Wow, you didn't hold one bit eh?"

His eyes narrowed as he saw him standing on the door with a smug grin.

"What are you doing here? I thought you wouldn't be able to make it?" His tone accessory as he cleans up the aftermath, gently tucking in your passed out figure on the bed.

"So defensive for what?" He chuckles, sauntering as he glance at your peaceful fresh-fucked face. Such a lovely sight. He  licks his lips at that but for now you'd need to get your beauty rest after a rough day. "So, did 'ya like your present?"

"..."

"I'd take your silence as a yes then." Giggling, he places his hand on his shoulder, "I knew you'd like it I mean, we are similar in taste after all."

His jaw tightens before sighing in defeat, "Where did you even get that toy?"

"Oh, some shady website~! I was planning to buy another one but the website mysteriously disappeared!" He exaggerate his movements which earned a grimace from him.

"Shut up, you'll wake her up."

"No, she won't. You made her pass out, how ungentlemanly of you."

"Says you."

"Whatever, I came to ask you a question," His hand drop to his side, his smug smile still on but something sinister behind it, "So, we're going to share, right?"

The answer should've been obvious but it was hard to let the word out of his mouth. Was it pride or possession?

"Yeah..."

"I knew you'd say that."

"But I want her on Mondays."

"Oh brother, why pick the worst day?" He grunts in disappointment.

"Because it's the worst day, I need her on that day."

[covenofagatha]

A Helping Hand

You're helping your Professor gather ingredients for a potion she's brewing when you accidentally knock over a jar of sex pollen and need help.

Word count: ~3100

Warnings: smut, mommy kink, fingering, Top Agatha, magic cock, blowjob, magic cum, pure filth, teacher x student, age gap (everyone's legal)

Your brow furrows as you stare at the open spell book in front of you. You have a Potions test tomorrow for Professor Harkness, and evident by your lack of understanding of any of the words on the page, you are not going to do well. 

“What’s wrong?” your roommate, Wanda, asks you. The two of you are the top witches at the Academy of Dark Arts, and yet, neither of you has a strong suit in potions. 

And of course, the Potions teacher, Agatha Harkness, is the hardest teacher you have. 

“This is impossible. How am I supposed to remember that, for the Wolfsbane Potion, you have to stir three times counterclockwise, say this incantation, and then stir four times clockwise, all while making sure I’m continuously pouring in Dragon’s Blood?” Your head hurts just from reading it from the book. 

Wanda snorts. “Agatha doesn’t expect it to be perfect.”

You give her a look. You both know that’s a lie. Agatha is the teacher that makes you redo written homework assignments if you leave too much space between the words. 

The Academy of Dark Arts was a home for witches like you and Wanda: witches that did not have a coven, or even a family. The Academy was supposed to teach girls to harness and understand their powers. 

You have been here the longest, ever since you were twelve. You are almost twenty now. You had always put off taking Potions until you could no longer avoid it, mainly just because of how hard everyone else said it was. You had briefly interacted with Professor Harkness before the class, passing her in the corridors or making eye contact at meals. 

And maybe, just maybe, you had developed a bit of a crush on her once you were in her class. 

Who could blame you, though? She was the definition of perfection, with the way power just exuded from her, and the way her long, dark hair tumbled down to her lower back, and her piercing blue eyes that you suspected could see right into your soul. 

But your little infatuation was not what you needed right now – no, right now, you need to study. 

“I just don’t know anything,” you groan, dropping your head into your hands. “I can’t even read my notes.” Agatha often went so fast in class that you had no other option than to just scribble down everything you thought she said as quickly as you could. 

And now you just had pages of illegible chicken scratch. 

“She’s probably still in the green house, why not just go ask her for help,” Wanda says noncommittally, too engrossed in sketching a picture. How she is so calm with this test hanging over the both of you, you have no idea. 

But you nod. That’s a good idea. You can go see Agatha, ask her to clarify a few things, and then stay up all night cramming ingredients and directions into your brain. 

“I’ll be right back,” you promise, and then scoop up your book and your notes. 

You pass by some younger witches in the hallway and you give them a tight-lipped smile. Wanda was really your only friend at the Academy, the other girls too boy-crazy or too self-absorbed for you to really connect with them. 

Other than those girls, though, the Academy is quiet. No sign of any of your other teachers, and you’re sure they’re either in their private quarters or still grading papers in their classrooms. 

You have to leave the main house of the Academy to get to the greenhouse, where Potions takes place. The cold November air stings your cheeks and makes your eyes water, but luckily, it’s a short walk. 

“Hello, Professor Harkness?” you say timidly, knocking on the door as you push it open. She’s sitting at a stool, cutting plants with a sharp knife. Her hair flowing down her back and she's wearing a tight white button-down shirt on that’s tucked into high-waisted purple pants, and a long, navy coat.

She glances up and smiles when she sees it’s you. “Y/n, what can I do for you?” 

“Oh, I just wanted to come see if you could help me clear some things up for the test tomorrow,” you say, a little flustered by how good she looks. 

“Sure thing, hon. First, I need your help. Hand me those powders from over there?” She points the knife over to the counter by the sink and you oblige, grabbing the four vials and putting them down next to her. She picks each one up and examines the label closely. “Ah, shoot. Sorry, dear, could you find the jar with the powdered root of asphodel? It should be in the pantry somewhere. I thought I took it out, but I guess I forgot.” 

“Yeah, of course.” You repeat the powder name in your head a few times so you don’t forget it and then go search for it. 

You finally spot it on the fourth shelf, sitting in the middle of some other jars, and you reach up on your tip-toes to grab it. As you’re pulling down the correct jar, you accidentally knock it into another and it falls to the floor next to you. 

“Shit!” you mutter, immediately crouching down to assess the damage. The jar of some unknown powder has broken and its contents are spilled everywhere. Without even thinking, you start to sweep the powder into your hands so you can try to put it back in the bottom half of the jar that’s still intact. 

You didn’t even notice Agatha coming over after she heard the noise. “Everything okay – don’t touch any of that!” she exclaims, seeing the bottle that broke on the floor.

You drop the mound of powder in your hands and whirl around, eyes wide open. 

“What is it?” you ask, afraid of the answer, but she doesn’t give you one, instead opting to pull you by the sleeve over to the sink. 

“Wash your hands now,” she demands and stands there watching you scrub your skin until it’s red. “How do you feel?” 

“I feel fine,” you say, but as you say that, you notice something. There’s an unmistakable heat growing in your stomach. And it only gets worse when Agatha places a hand against your forehead. You lean into the touch and have to forcibly bite your tongue so you don’t moan. 

She looks you up and down and you can feel yourself getting hotter. You’re sure your cheeks are flushed. 

You’ve never felt this way before. 

“Um, just out of curiosity, what was that powder?” you ask, wetness pooling between your thighs. The ache between your legs is becoming hard to ignore. 

Agatha meets your eyes. “It’s called sex pollen.” Your heart skips a beat. “I honestly forgot it was back there. I came across some a few decades ago and wanted to study it.”

You swallow hard. “So if someone gets some of it in their system, do they just need to touch…” You feel yourself blushing, not quite believing you’re asking Agatha Harkness if masturbation is the key to get this heat inside you to die down. 

She smirks. “You can’t get it out of your system by yourself.”

Well, fuck. “There’s no other way?” 

“Where would the fun in that be?” She winks playfully, and you wonder if she’s ever used it, or used it on someone else. “But you said you feel fine so you shouldn’t have to worry about it.”

“Right,” you reply shakily. Her fingers brush a strand of hair out of her face and you literally clench at the sight of them. You feel so empty, so needy, so desperate for her. 

“You said you had some questions for the test tomorrow?” She takes the root of asphodel that you had forgotten you were holding and beckons you back over to where she’s working. She pats the stool next to you and you sit, the pressure on your clit making you jump. 

You just have to make it through this, go back to your room, and then drag Wanda out with you to a club or something so you can get fucked. 

The only problem is, you’re not sure you can wait that long. Your hips have started squirming on the stool beneath you and you can’t control it. 

“Um, so,” you start, opening up the textbook to the Wolfsbane Potion you were studying earlier. “The directions for this potion are–”

You’re cut off by her putting her hand on top of yours and you literally whimper at the contact. You stiffen and see her turn her full body towards you, taking in the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead, your darkened eyes, the way your hips are moving on the seat. 

“Oh, you poor baby,” she taunts. 

You give up the pretense of being unaffected by the pollen. “Professor, I’m so…I need…please…I think the pollen...” 

She laughs. “Yes, dear, I think the pollen got into your system. Do you have anyone who can take care of you?” 

You blush at the implication of Agatha asking if you have a fuck buddy and then shake your head pathetically. “I was gonna go out with Wanda and try to find someone,” you mumble. “I’ve never…” You trail off, not wanting your incredibly hot professor to hear you say out loud that you’re a virgin. 

“Honey, you can’t have your first time with a random person from a bar,” she tuts. “Plus, sex pollen amplifies feelings you already have. Getting fucked by a random person won’t help as much as by a person you already want.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” you whine. “Can you…will you…please?” You can tell the pollen is affecting your ability to think straight because there is no way you just asked your centuries-old professor to fuck you. You’re about ready to run out of the room and die of embarrassment when she grins. 

“You want me to help you?” 

Your breath catches. “Professor, please, please, I need it. I need you. I just feel so…hot.” 

“I’ll say,” she says appreciatively, this time letting her eyes wander over you slowly. “Are you sure? I don’t want you regretting this when the pollen wears off.” 

You shake your head. “I won’t. I’m sure. I want you so bad. I have for a while. And you said it has to be someone you already want.” 

Her eyes darken. “Get on the table.” 

You’ve never moved so fast in your life. She takes your shirt off and throws it somewhere else in the room, and then her hands are cupping your breasts and her mouth is on yours. 

You moan hungrily into her hot mouth, feeling her tongue against yours. Your hands tangle in her hair, pulling it gently, and she groans into your mouth. Agatha quickly undoes the clasp of your bra and finds your nipples, tugging at them. She kisses down your neck and your fingers leave her hair to hike up your skirt. 

“So eager for me,” she whispers against your clavicle. You gasp when she bites down. 

“Please, professor, touch me.” 

“I am touching you,” she teases, fingertips lightly skimming down your stomach. You tense at the touch as she gets lower. 

Your moan is downright pornographic when she first slides her hand into your underwear, sliding through your folds. She makes a sound as well. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re soaked,” she says. 

“All for you,” you say weakly, hips grinding up and down against her fingers. She’s yet to touch your clit, but you fear the second she does, you’ll cum. 

“My dirty girl.” Agatha finally pushes her middle finger into you and you clench down immediately, needing more. She easily finds the spot that makes you squeal, and her thumb brushes against your clit. “Do you think you can take another finger?” 

“Oh my god, yes,” you enthusiastically agree and she slides in her ring finger as well. It’s a bit of a stretch but you’ve never felt better. 

“Your cunt feels so good around me,” Agatha says, grabbing your chin with her other hand so you meet her eyes. “So wet, so warm. I want to stay here forever. You can’t get enough of my fingers, can you?” 

“No, Professor, I love your fingers,” you babble, right on the edge. She knows it too. 

“Be a good girl and come for mommy,” she whispers right into your ear, her hot breath warm, and the name, coupled with the way she twists her fingers and roughly strokes your clit, sends you climaxing. 

“Fuckkkk,” you moan, your nails digging into her shoulders. She fucks you through the aftershocks of your orgasm and then slowly pulls her fingers, which are drenched, out of you. You can’t help but feel empty and the heat inside you isn’t completely gone. 

Before you can say anything, she slides her wet fingers into your mouth and you lazily lap at your juices. She bites her lip at the feeling. 

“How are you feeling now, baby girl?” 

Her fingers leave your mouth with a pop. “Better but I still think I need more.” 

Her eyebrow raises playfully. “My fingers weren’t enough to quell your thirst?” 

You shake your head, feeling a little embarrassed. 

“I think I know something that might help.” She waves her hand and a poof of purple smoke appears. You’re not quite sure what she did, but she gives you a wicked grin and unzips her pants, pulling out a purple strap-on. 

Your mouth falls open. 

She grabs a hold of the base and starts to stroke herself, groaning. 

“Wait, can you-” 

She looks up at you. “Feel it?” She nods. “I wanna feel you clench around my cock. Wanna fill you up.” 

You let out a small gasp. “Mommy, please, I need your cock.” 

She steps back over to you and runs a hand up your slit, collecting your wetness, which she then rubs on her cock. “You’re plenty wet already, but why don’t you get on your knees and show me how much of a good girl you can be.” 

She doesn’t have to tell you twice. You practically fall to the ground in front of her, ignoring the sharp pain in your knees. You look up at her, awaiting instruction, and she bites her lip softly at the sight of you. 

She puts a hand on your head and pushes you closer. “Put a hand around the base and then run your tongue up and down the length.” 

You do as you’re told and you delight in the loud moan that tears from her mouth. Her hand just rests on your head as you then experimentally suck the tip of her cock between your lips. 

“Good girl,” she says gruffly, and her praise drives you to test the waters and go down further. You bob your head on her dick, never breaking eye contact. “Fuck, baby, your mouth is so hot.” 

Meanwhile, the need inside you is growing so much you can barely fight the urge to slip a hand up your skirt. But you don’t. You figure Agatha won’t like that, and also, you want to focus all your attention on making her feel good. 

“Such a dirty slut on her knees for mommy. So desperate for this cock,” she says and you groan around the strap-on, making her hands tighten in your hair. She pulls you back and a string of saliva connects your lips to her. “Get up.” 

Once you’re standing in front of her, she flips you around and bends your front over the table so she’s standing behind you. She pushes your skirt up and traces your pussy with her cock, sliding it up your slit to your clit and then back. You’re grinding against her, trying to get some stimulation. 

“Are you ready?” Agatha asks. 

“Yes,” you answer, voice hoarse with anticipation. You feel her line the tip up with your hole and then slowly start to push in. 

Both of you moan. She is so big but the stretch is exactly what you need. Once she bottoms out, she holds still for a second, letting you adjust to her size. 

“You take my cock so well.” And then she’s pulling out and thrusting back in, picking up speed and intensity. You lift a leg up so she’s able to get deeper and you can feel her hips stutter. “You pretend to be so innocent but look at how desperate you are for me. Just a little slut, needing me to fill her up.” 

“Yes, just a slut for you, mommy.” 

Her nails dig into your hip and her other hand comes down to rub your clit. You clench around her. 

“You’re so tight, so hot, you feel so good squeezing my dick,” Agatha murmurs, saying the filthiest things right into your ear. You’re so close and it’s only been a few minutes of her pounding into you. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Her hand leaves your clit and you gasp. 

“Not yet, baby, wait for mommy. Do you want me to fill you up?” 

“Want you to fill me up, mommy, wanna feel you dripping out of me,” you babble. 

“Oh shit, baby, gonna cum in you. Cum for me,” she says, and you do. This orgasm is even more intense than the one before and you feel her give you one last hard thrust before warmth spreads through your cunt. She stills for just a second and then gingerly pulls out. You can feel her cum dripping out of your hole and down your leg and it almost makes you cum again. 

Agatha turns you around and spreads your legs so she can watch it better. She takes two fingers and lazily smears her cum mixed with yours all over your pussy lips. She raises her fingers to your lips and you eagerly taste both of your juices, moaning around them. 

“Do you feel better now?” she asks, a playful glint in her eyes. 

You sigh dramatically. “For now. But who’s to say I won’t get into more sex pollen some other time?”

She chuckles and matches your smirk with one of her own. “Well, I guess I better keep a careful eye on you then.” 

[deadghosy]

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

JELLYFISH! READER X HAZBIN HOTEL

Prompt: A sea creature wants to bring light in hell. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆｡˚

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚ you died while being an oceanographer. You studied the ocean for its plant and creatures. You drowned specifically while trying to push a jellyfish away from you. And honestly, you went to hell becoming a flowing beautiful jellyfish.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Charlie welcomed you with opened arms, she liked how beautiful you are. The way you flow in the air, you were eye catching and majestic

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚jellyfish! reader is a Mitski, grimes, and tv girl fan of music. I think it fits their vibe at how peaceful but dangerous they are with their stingers.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚imagine how your human form would look. Jellyfish hair cut with the colors of the blue from your og form with some pink and purple. Or like blue and light blue. You would be an actual main attraction to the hotel.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you probably did get mistaken to get sent to hell instead of Heaven. You were beautiful like a heaven angel, but you were in the depths of hell. Surprisingly the hotel was a safe haven for you.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚a beautiful creature like you gain the attention of many to the hotel. You could say that you are the main attraction. And Charlie doesn’t use you like that, but she does make you a resident to get into heaven.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚vaggie finds you calming. You have this type of aura around you that just makes people relax. So your hotel room is specially designed to your liking. Which is a dark blue wall with a glowing blue that has ocean waves. It’s basically jellyfish’s en ocean designed. It’s just so magical.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you love floating around as keekee would follow you around. Then you would have the egg boiz following you plus fat nuggets. You just collected your own little band of little people.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚husk doesn’t know much about you in the hotel other than you are practically the princess/prince of the water in hotel. You make sure the water is okay as it’s your duty.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you once had made water appear. You had guess you have water power based on you drowning. And using that power, you soaked husk who started to go crazy almost scratch angel dust in irritation. 

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Lucifer admires your colorful being. Like he may seem as if he doesn’t care about you. But he sorta does as he secretly makes you a jellyfish toy that lights up in the dark.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚alastor, he might as well try to see what you are. He still senses a human soul in which makes him want to get your soul. A human souls is rare than a disgusting sinner’s soul. But you sting him every time he tries to even get close.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you once accidentally stung Alastor with your stingers. He oddly didn’t lash out at you, but rather just walked away. He was trying to hold on the stinging pain you gave him.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚sir Pentious found you alluring even. Frank and the rest of the egg boiz agree. Frank once called you mom/dad since you were singing him a lullaby.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚imagine how crazy you can be. Like one day you are the calming person every one loves and knows in the hotel. And next thing people know is that you are stinging people just because they breathed the wrong way around you.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚luckily you are a passive aggressive person sometimes. Or else you would be frying people like bacon. EXTRA CRISY‼️

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚angel dust dead ass thinks you should have a cute blue ocean crown or necklace. Maybe even a cute blue with purple star car. Bro he’s thinking of so much ways to make you girly pop.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you could’ve had shocked angels, and I mean literally cause if it was the battle between hell and heaven. You would win lmao. Cause what if you shocked then hoes into an angel kebab

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚headcannon on how your stingers is as powerful like the jellyfishes in SpongeBob. You area full electric chair.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚vox had a whole board about who tf were you. Legit was giving crazy science man vibes cause how tf is a jellyfish in hell?! You don’t even look demon! You dead ass don’t fit the hell palette. As he is making theories, Valentino and Velvette just stare at each other like “wtf is this?”

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚now say you did went to heaven. Everything would probably be different, but you are something no one had seen before. A jelly fish angel? Yeah that seems unique.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Heaven would admire your original look. Your calming energy makes most of heaven better. Like say for example the angels complement each other with the light of your energy and how your energy flows. You basically have a pheromone, but it’s for positivity to be spread. #bethereasonsomeonesmiles LMAO

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Adam probably makes fun of how you are such a small sea thing creature. But then he switches up when you turn into your human form and start to sting his ass every time he tries to offend you. Fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚sera would possibly have you as a cherub cause of your small jellyfish form. It only makes sense for you to be one as you are so adorable.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Emily adores you. She knows you don’t mean any harm towards her with your stingers. She’s the type of person who makes you a flower crown cause she loves it be creative around people she likes. Honestly 10/10 friendship honestly.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚lute probably doesn’t care about you much. Other than your stingers are damn annoying. She just wants to rip them out, but you are is kind and sweet. So you have her vote to stay in heaven with her.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚headcannon on you just humming a soft lullaby as you swim in the air, your blue soft glow in the dark makes anyone go to sleep. The blue is pretty alluring.

A/N: I tried a different writing style with the “bullet points” I hope you guys like this lol and sorry if it seems lazy.✨ inspired by: @selvyyr <3

[originalwinnerfanfish]

Well, I did it

Megatron - I love his tfp design. Probably one of the best iteration of Megs. He is huge, heavy armoured, his face covered with scars… He doesn’t looks like an ordinary military leader who is only capable of giving orders, but like real warrior who can destroy any enemy with his bare hands.

So, in the WOF version, he definitely shares some features with Princess Burn, not only because of his might, but also because of his horns shape and dirty-dark scales (that absorbed blood of his enemies)

Starscream - Boy, I hate him so much 🤣… but in the good way, trust me! In my opinion, when the show's creators make you feel such strong negative emotions towards a villain, it means they've done a great job. Also, I think that his animation in the show was absolutely incredible, because even though he's a 3D model, he still manages to move like a 2D character, which is amazing!

I feel that in my design he still looks more like a skywing, than an icewing (which is kinda logical)

Soundwave - This one was tricky. I couldn't figure out what his mask would look like, so I just made his face a really dark color. I think Soundwave has both gifts of the nightwings, and he’s equally great at telepathy and a future vision. So he doesn't really need equipment to predict enemy movements, which makes him an ideal communicator in the WOF setting. His Laserbeak is part of the armor enchanted by Shockwave, and it might also allow him to open portals (but I'm not sure with this one)

Shockwave - My favourite evil genius. He would definitely have animus magic and mind reading. I think Shockwave is the only one who has advanced the study of magic so far, precisely because he combined it with scientific knowledge and created safer methods of using it, that don't damage the mind. It's like if a Mastermind got animus magic in books.

I also like to think that he didn't heal the damaged part of his face just so that his enemies would fear him more)

Dreadwing - This man deserved better! It's really a shame that he was removed from the show so quickly due to financial problems. It would be great if his arc got a proper conclusion in season 3.

Considering that I didn't want to make him a hybrid, it was difficult to choose a suitable color palette. So let’s just say, that I tried my best😅

I don’t think that he would have any nightwing powers, but honestly it doesn’t even matter - this guy can make a bombs, what else does he need to be cool

Arachnid - Did anyone even doubt that she would be a hivewing? Damn, she even got her own “Othermind” virus. Her design was the easiest to work with - just a little poisonous ass (suspiciously similar to Maleficent).

Just like Starscream, I hate her, but in a good way. She's one of the creepiest characters in the entire series, who’s acting like a fucking heartless monster, especially with Arcee, but even so, there's always was something mesmerizing about her. I just really like strong female villains

Knockout - Wery bright and charismatic guy, definitely one of my fav cons!

I tried to draw him as handsome as possible. Worked a lot on the face shape and coloring, and as for me it turned out pretty nice (finally).

Most decepticons think Knockout is as stupid and lazy as all the other rainwings. And it's not like he completely disagrees with that. Of course he’s not stupid and lazy, but if it’s means less dirty work on the battlefield, well, he’ll continue act like a tipical rainwing

(I also believe that Megatron keeps him as an “art”)

Breakdown - Fun fact: "Operation Breakdown" was the very first thing I saw in this series. And it was an interesting experience for 8 year old me. Maybe that's why I'm so scared of eye gouging scenes in movies now…

I think that he didn't have any siblings initially due to his parents nature, and even after meeting Bulkhead, he felt uncomfortable among the other mudwings. And this is why he later chose the side of the decepticons. And maaaaybe because of one cute rainwing influence)

P.s.

I think that, being mostly nightwings and icewings, the decepticons are much more concerned about purity of their blood and rarely accept half-breeds into their ranks.

During the war, there were many animus dragons among decepticons, which is why they have so many artifacts that allowed teleportation and communication at a distance. But, honestly, I still can't imagine what Nemesis would look like in this AU

[lilystyles]

you are in love.

written by @lilystyles

my masterlist xx & style masterlist

authors note PART FOUR!!! sorry it took so long to update, i think i'll have to do a fifth chapter to wrap up how i want!! please forgive me by enjoying all this filthy smut and hopefully more from me soon. i'd love some feedback or suggestions for part five so drop them in the asks angels. XX

brief description y/n is living her teenage dream, and despite the snow harry has never felt so warm.

warnings! slight age gap, smut (f! receiving, sex, daddy kink, slight choking, m! receiving, all the usual! romantic asf thoooo) kissing, mentions of drugs and alcohol abuse. (wordcount: 13k!!)

fratboy!older!bffsbrother!harry x younger!innocent!reader

* * * * *

It was late on a Thursday night, and the evening sky was a dark blanket over the world. Everyone was asleep, including the sun.

Y/n’s street was silent. The suburban area was normally loud due to the streets of houses full of loud University students, but tonight, they had left it like a ghost town, and the evening air was eerily silent. Outside the large brick home, the stars twinkled above the streets and clean-cut yards. Tonight’s half-crescent moon shone down through Y/n’s big window as she slept peacefully in bed.

Her face was soft like a cherub, lips tugged in a pout, long lashes kissing at her cheeks. She looked beautiful, even now in the middle of a deep slumber as soft snores escaped her. Tonight, she had fallen asleep early at eight PM like a little kid, so worn out from the past few weeks, she’d had exam after exam, assignments due, and so many lectures to attend. She had one class tomorrow, her Psych class, and was mentally preparing to deal with the lunatic lecturer by having an early night. He was seriously unhinged, and a really harsh-grader.

Y/n had been dreaming of hazy roses and swirls of flannelette shirts, and oddly the smell of vanilla, mint, and tobacco overtook her senses despite being fast asleep, just moments before she woke up with a gasp. 

A chill ran up her spine, god it was freezing in here. Startled and still confused as to whether or not she was dreaming she opened her eyes. A loud bang on her window had been what woke her. 

Oh god! Is this like horror movies where the hot young university student gets murdered by a masked man? 

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest at the possibility. She sat up knuckling her eyes messily, and peering down from her window. On her knees, she was just tall enough to see what had made the noise, which was probably stupid of her to do. Because if it really was some axe murderer with a thing for sleeping girls they’d see her.

With a confused, tired smile, she realised it wasn’t a murderer. No, it was her boyfriend, Harry.

Looking over at her alarm clock it read 1:47 AM. She scratched her head looking down at him. He was standing down by the front yard, a red flannel shirt over his form, under a big football jacket from the Uni team, and considering it was freezing Y/n wondered how he wasn’t shivering in just those few layers. 

She thought for a moment that this would be a fond memory of him, one she might tell her children about her first proper boyfriend, her first love. The boy next door. She opened the window, leaning out, and instantly felt cold howling wind pelt her skin. 

“Styles! What are doing?!” She whisper-shouted. Not wanting to wake her roommates who were all probably awake studying for final exams anyway. 

She must be dreaming, because when he saw her this smile overtook his face, dimples popping and pink landing on his cheeks as he lifted his hand to show a bundle of red roses. A big pink bow wrapped around them and his tattooed hand gripped them tightly.

He looked like something of her dreams, she’d wished for a romance like this, spending nights cooped up reading about boys like Harry who made romantic gestures in the middle of the night. Wishing for a life all as magical as those fairytales. One full of excitement and passion, but also one that was real. She always felt real around Harry.

“Trouble, get some shoes on!” He whispered back lifting his arms dramatically, the jacket straining against his muscles.

She furrowed her brows. “Do you realise what time it is, Crazy?”

Harry smiled up at her, god he’d be the death of her, that smile. It made her stomach curl dangerously, butterflies rippling inside her. “Just get some shoes on, and something warm. C’mon, Baby, thought y’were a bad girl now.” He teased, thinking back to that night in the kitchen.

She rolled her eyes at him shutting the window, as she tried to quietly potter around her room. Finding her pale pink tracksuit pants on her floor, and a thick matching crewneck, she left her thin white singlet on underneath, putting on a random long-sleeve from the floor over it, and the knickers she’d gone to sleep in. Before digging around to find the Ugg boot that paired with the one in her hand.

When she was ready she snuck downstairs and outside. Harry perked up at the sound of gravel crunching. 

Y/n, god she was pretty. His heart thumped heart, heat creeping up his neck at the sight of her.

Hair in a long plait at the back of her head, skin all soft from her skincare, and a puddle of pink covering her, and despite the faux-frown on her face he knew she was excited to see him as he was to see her. He rushed over pulling her into a hug close to his chest. She smelled good, like the lavender spray she used on her bed for a good night’s sleep, and he planted a kiss on her head.

Picking her up in the hug and spinning her around. “Hi, Trouble.”

Feet off the ground she squealed quietly in surprise. He was so warm, and he smelt so good.

She looked up at him as he slowly placed her back onto her feet, arms still around his neck. Grabbing the flowers he offered to her as a pink rushed up her neck, “You are crazy, Styles, what are you even doing here?”

“I missed you, what was I supposed to do?” He said leaning down close, and Y/n brushed their noses together, before standing on the tips of her toes as she connected their lips. His firm grip on her waist fell to the curve of her plump ass. Squeezing her closer into his firm chest and warmth.

It was a chaste, gentle kiss, she hadn’t seen him since the weekend of that party. They’d called every day since though. 

When she pulled away, a big grin overtook her face, one of his hands fell into hers as he pulled her down to where his car was. Opening the door for her, he made sure she was tucked inside before gently shutting it and walking around the other door. Y/n noticed in his little cup holder her pink scrunchie was there and a strawberry lip mask she’d lost was sitting beside it.

She placed her flowers on the backseat. They looked like he’d stolen them from someone’s garden, in true Harry fashion, he had from their snooty neighbour.

Harry slid inside the driver’s seat and started the engine. It was freezing, the middle of winter, and if not for him she would never have stepped foot out into the bleak winter night. The car was warm already from him driving over.

“Are you some sort of pervert creep stalker or summat? What you got all this for, Styles? A shrine for me.” She said pointing to her little spot of things in the cupholder.

He rolled his eyes looking at her with a sassy expression. “Just returning them to my girlfriend, thanks,”

She was still getting used to those words slipping from his filthy rotten mouth. Harry noticed her flustered face and laughed. 

“What? Since I can’t tell everyone yet, I’m gonna boast as much as I can even if it’s just with you.”

She slid her hand into his as he drove down the street heading to, well, Y/n didn’t know where. With this boy? She’d never know what he had planned. “I can’t believe I have a boyfriend now,”

He giggled and stared ahead, but his hand squeezed hers. “Can’t believe I’m the lucky bastard. Was certain I’d never have a chance with you.”

Y/n let out a scoff. “You’re joking, you knew how much I fancied you growing up, Styles.”

He looked over at her. “Well, everyone fancied me.”

She slapped his arm, and he laughed. “Sorry, Trouble, but it’s true…anyway Em made it very clear I wasn’t allowed to engage with you. No matter how much I wanted to.”

She looked over him, in disbelief at what these past few weeks held for them. Harry Styles, her boyfriend was sharing his feelings with her, and it wasn’t even that weird to be with him. Actually, it felt pretty fucking perfect.

“So you chose to act like a foul-mouthed, prick?” She fired back raising her brows argumentatively.

He nodded, biting his lip and smirking, before looking at her for a second to see her face. “At least I got t’talk to you, and admit it Baby, y’pretty fucking sexy when you’re pissed with me.”

She scoffed at him. “And you’re dumb.”

He looked over for a second longer than he should’ve considering he was behind the wheel. “Don’t they say loves make you dumb, Trouble?”

Y/n felt her tummy curl. Love? Surely he hadn’t meant it like that. The car fell silent a soft eighties love song playing on the car speakers as Y/n melted into the leather passenger seat. She was tired, but the excitement of whatever Harry had planned had her too restless to nap. Anyway, it only took around 30 or so minutes of Harry cruising through windy back roads before the surprise was revealed.

She looked over at him, to find him already peering over at her. As she gasped out breathily. 

“...The beach?”

She looked out at the dark scene. The waves were deep, crashing, and wild. The reflection of the moon was a sombre scene across the almost black-looking ocean, and the chilly air made it seem all the more beautiful of a landscape. She’d been here before, many times. During most Summer holidays she would be invited to stay with the Styles at their beach house that was not far from here, maybe another two-minute drive or so. This beach held memories of countless afternoons sunbaking and reading, sunrises with Em, and a handful of beach bonfires mostly ending with Harry and Y/n taking care of Emma together.

She’d never been here during winter before, having never been here without the Styles to accompany her. It felt different now, and exciting to be here with just Harry. It was one of her fantasies. She’d had many nights where she laid awake in the twin bed of the beach house next to a snoring Emma dreaming of a romantic moment with Harry. Clinging to the crumbs of affection he gave her…a hand graze hers, a tug on her hair, a pat on the shoulder. She spun her own story of them being something but never imagined it would actually happen.

She turned to Harry, and once again she had to fight off the urge to pinch herself out of this unbelievably magical dream.

“What are we doing here?”

Harry smiled his hand landing on her knee, a welcome warmth during the cold of the night. “I was looking through m’camera roll and I found this photo of you and Em sunbaking right before I dumped a bucket of water all over y’both. Remember?”

She placed her hand on his admiring how large, veiny, and muscular it was. She’d always loved his hands. Tonight he had only his signet ring which was a family heirloom, on his pinky. She stroked it with her finger.

“Of course I do. Remember when we got our revenge?”

He rolled his eyes. “Was you’re idea wasn’t it, Trouble?

She grinned thinking back to the memory. It was a hazy blur of vibrant colours and laughs. That summer they were fourteen and Harry was sixteen, they’d all gotten up to lots of mischief that summer.

The whole time he had been obsessing over this girl who worked at the local cinema. When he’d finally managed to land a date, the girls had wreaked absolute havoc as revenge. He’d spent all afternoon picking out his outfit, fixing his hair to be perfect, and even shaved his slight stubble. The whole family teased him about how excited he was.

They’d been swimming in the pool when he came out to ask Emma if he could borrow her bike to ride to meet Cinema Girl at the ice cream shop. They’d been taking a break to sunbathe on the concrete in the sun when he came over to them.

Emma stood up and so did Y/n, they’d already devised their plan and were ready to take action. Y/n likes to pretend her interest in the ruining of his date had been all revenge-orientated but she knew deep down she was jealous of the curvy blonde surfer girl who was older than her who Harry had been drooling over. When Emma was the first to dive at him pushing him dangerously close to the pool, Y/n knew she needed to join her to knock his suddenly strong body into the water.

She remembers the way his hands clawed at her bare back, in hopes of pulling himself back up, but it was too late. He fell in with a big splash and an angry shout at the pair of them. Laughing so hard they clutched their stomachs when he resubmerged and the way the water fell over his head pathetically. The perfect curls on his head had been ruined, his white shirt soaked, shoes and all.

It was when he lifted himself out of the water absolute murder in his eyes that they finally fled the crime scene. Sprinting through the house and when his loud running was close by, they screamed heading through the front door. Y/n remembers running down the street in just a bikini, all wet, feet bare and as she squealed forgetting how fast Harry was when he wanted to be. Emma who was all legs and spindly back then was off miles ahead and was far from the pair of them. He’d caught Y/n with ease, arms coming around her waist and yanking her back.

“You are so dead, Trouble,”

It ended with him carrying her over his shoulder, hands dangerously close to her bum, and chucking her into the deep end of the pool. But she didn’t care, because after all that he cancelled the date and stayed in to watch Dirty Dancing with all of the girls. Anne, Gem, Em, and her. She noticed the way he smiled at the ending, and she dreamily contemplated if they’d ever have a movie-like dance scene.

She just smirked at him coming back to the present. “I was always the brains behind the operation.”

He eyed her, eyes hooded, “Y’think I didn’t know that?”

She felt herself blush. God, she had such a crush on her boyfriend.

“...Wanna go for a walk?” He asked, turning the engine off, and pulling her back to reality.

She nodded. “Of course. Do you have any other clothes to rug up?”

He looked in his backseat and grabbed a woollen blanket. “I came prepared for you.”

She smiled unbuckling her seatbelt as they stepped outside, the wind was freezing. Harry locked the car and walked around to her it was deserted here. Middle of the night, in the middle of English winter, so that wasn’t surprising.

He handed her the blanket and she wrapped it over her shoulders grabbing his arm and gripping his bicep. He leaned close to her as they walked down the beach. Sand slowed them down, as they walked slowly, listening to the waves crash.

Then she felt a cold speckle hit her face, and she looked up. “Styles, it’s snowing,”

“Oh, wow, it is.” He replied looking up at the snow, then down at her. Flecks caught in her lashes, and he leaned down to wipe them away. Cupping her face in his warm hands.

“You look so beautiful right now, Y/n.”

Y/n blushed, lifting her hand to cover her face. “No, I don’t I look all…sleepy,”

“You always look perfect, Trouble.” He replied, softly, his voice all gravelly. “Don’t hide from me.”

She moved her hands and he leaned down to kiss her. Hugging her close to him, and pulling her up to his lips, they kissed.

Snow fell softly onto them, as they cuddled closely to keep warm. Y/n wrapped them up in the blanket, and they fell into a deeper, more loving kiss. His tongue played with hers, and one of his hands moved to her hair and they melted together until all the air left their lungs. Forcing them to pull back and softly peck each other’s lips a few more times before Y/n rested her cheek near his beating heart.

They walked down to the rocks and back running and chasing each other through the sand, and snow, and god it was freezing, but being with Harry warmed her up more than any other mittens or jackets or fires could.

Jumping on his back and messing around dancing on the snowy beach for an hour, it felt like time slipped by in a wink. When it was around two thirty Harry decided to take them to the beach house for the night. He drove steadily only a street down the road and stopped out the front of this grand big old Victorian-style house painted a soft periwinkle colour, and Y/n felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her as she grabbed Harry’s hand and they stepped out of the car.

The street was silent, she could hear crickets and howling wind, as the snow speckled down onto them.

When they got inside the house it was cold — freezing, and the clothes hanging off their bodies were damp from the snow which made it even worse. As they stepped inside the cosy home it was dark, almost pitch-black but Y/n wasn’t scared because she could feel the heat of Harry’s body behind her following her inside, whispering softly in her ear. 

He grabbed her hand, and without turning on any lights he guided her upstairs to the upstairs lounge room. Even in the dark Y/n knew where they were going. It was like a library full of books floor to ceiling, and old antique possessions of Styles family, but it still had these comfy couches and a window seat to stare out at the ocean view. There was a golden-plated fireplace. Y/n remembers hiding away in here a few times when she couldn’t sleep, and sometimes Anne would bring her tea and blanket and kiss her head if she saw her inside. 

She had fond memories here, in this house, in this room. Some even with Harry, before he’d turned into a proper brooding teenage boy, they’d read Harry Potter and other fantasy novels stowed away in this room for hours during the summers. Emma wasn’t too fond of reading until she was older and could read erotica, which Y/n felt matched Emma’s taste quite well.

Y/n’s hand reached for the doorframe and Harry stepped inside first. It felt incredibly weird being here during the winter. But Harry’s warmth left it feeling like it was a romantic summer night.

He leaned down and began starting up a fire. Y/n admired the way he stacked the logs, his strong arms flexing as he did so, and he turned her. “Trouble, can y’get me some firelighters, please?” His tone was low like they had company asleep down the hall, even though they didn’t. 

The firelighters were downstairs, she nodded at him walked downstairs with his phone for a flashlight and hunted around for a few matches and firelighters. She found them easily, the layout of this home memorised in her mind, like every inch of the boy to whom it belonged. 

Pottering around, she made them each a warm tea to warm up. The kettled only took a moment to boil and she filled the mugs up to the bring. Some herbal thing Anne liked. The smell reminded Y/n of those late nights in the library room.

She carefully walked back upstairs her sock-covered feet so quiet on the hardwood floors. She found Harry scrunching up some newspaper and lighting it with a golden zippo from his pocket. She handed him the firelighters silently, and he smiled in thanks, noticing the two mugs of steam in her hands and motioned for her to sit down. She listened and sat down on the plush brown cushioned couch, and she watched him get the fire going and stood, grabbing some candlesticks from the mantle and lighting them. 

It would be a while until it warmed up the room, Y/n shivered placing the mugs down on a little coffee table, before grabbing the folded woollen blanket from behind her head and wrapped herself up in it. 

Harry joined her side and pulled her under his arm gently. He was so warm, and she melted into his side idly. Trying to shake the feeling this whole night was a dream and she’d wake up, fourteen in her twin bed, and none of this would have ever happened. But it was real.

He leaned down to capture her lips in his, his tender plush lips tasted of mint chewing gum and her lip mask, were real. The warmth spreading up her spine, the nervous race of her heart, and his chilled hands sliding up her back, were so real.Her feelings were the most real they’d ever been.

She kissed him back, with a rawness that was beginning to become familiar between them. The empty house filled with the noises of their soft gasps and sighs, and the gentle crackle of the logs burning away. Harry pressed closer to her, arms encircling her waist tightly. Holding her so close to him, as if he worried this was all a dream too and she’d slip away if he let go of her.

His chest was flush against hers, and Y/n’s hands tangled up in his messy hair to ensure he stayed right where she wanted him. Right here, forever if he’d let her. He was a welcomed warmth and the blanket slipped off their shoulders as the kiss grew more intense.

Their tongues clashed messily, and mouths parted like they were a source of oxygen for each other, soaking each other in. One of Harry’s hands moved to her hip tracing a familiar scar she’d got falling off a trampoline in his backyard. He remembers being the one to wait with her in the hospital while they stitched it.

His knee moved between both of hers, bumping them apart and pushing up closer as she began to fall back onto the couch arms still around his neck and hands in his hair. Moving down to lay on top of her she wrapped her legs around him. Hugging every inch of him closer to her. Her head was tucked up against one of the pillows on the couch, hips rocking against his as he hugged her tighter his hands sliding under peachy bum, squeezing the plump flesh there and sighing contently. 

“You are perfect,” Harry uttered, pulling back, kissing cheek and then her jaw. Pulling back again to admire her flushed face. His eyes burned into hers, as a tender look washed over him. “So fucking perfect, god, I could die happy knowing you’re all mine.”

And maybe it wasn’t I love you, but they both knew that’s what he meant. She smiled up at him, a grin, dazzling and toothy. The orange glow of the fire was just enough for him to see that beautiful smile and he melted at the sight. Was it too soon to marry this bloody girl?

He knew that whatever this girl wanted, needed, or asked, he’d do for her in a heartbeat. He was done for. That smile made him want to fall to his knees and kiss the floor she walked on. Her name was carved into his heart, in her soft handwriting, this was it. This was what he’d been waiting for. For her.

“Stay, Styles.” Was all she could muster, flustered and drunk on the taste of him. Her soft voice ran up his spine and he shivered, squeezing her tight.

“I’m not going anywhere, Baby,” He replied leaning down to nose at her neck shyly. Her hands slid under his shirt feeling his soft firm back to hold him here. Anchoring herself to him, she left her mark all over him and he felt his cock twitch. This girl had him wrapped around her little finger, and he didn’t even mind.

“Better not.” She replied breathily, as he kissed along her neck down to her breast nosing at his initial on her neck before moving to kiss along her collar bones.

“Take it off,” She muttered. His hands in no rush lifted off her first layer. Throwing the jumper down as he gazed at the dark long sleeve, tugging that off quickly too, and laughing when there was still another layer. It was the final one, a gauzy flimsy white singlet she was wearing. He could see her nipples pebbling at the cold air and the outline of her perfect body. “This too,” She said nodding.

His hands softly tugged it up off her and threw it along with the rest. Her hands tugged the hem of his many layers and he sat back on his bum to pull them off in one go, revealing his rippling muscles and perfect tattoos. The glow of the flames flickering against his body had a heat creeping between her thighs.

He was a total fucking sex god. She couldn’t get enough of him.

“Harry, you really are beautiful.” She said, all besotten, and the rotten-mouthed Harry Styles actually blushed red at her words. Blushed! A red rosy flush crept up his neck and cheeks, and he smiled shyly, mouth slightly parted.

He tried to find a teasing quip and for once fell flat because Y/n was already telling him to kiss her again, and that was enough to make him come back down, pressing their skin together. The feeling brought them both a comfort they hadn’t expected. Skin to skin, it felt like the closest thing to magic.

Both of them were still dressed in pants Y/n reached for his belt undoing it eagerly, as she never took her lips off his. Eventually, his pants were loose and Harry pulled back for a moment to tug them off messily. Y/n decided to do the same, leaving her in just a pair of silly knickers with cartoon fish on them.

Harry giggled thumbing at the pattern with his big hands. “You are so adorable, sweet girl.”

She smiled shyly blushing. “Shut up and kiss me again, Styles.”

So he did, and things began to heat up as Y/n rucked up against his hips more desperately. A throbbing heat, aching for some form of relief, seeking out his stiffening cock. She rubbed herself softly on his thigh whimpering into his mouth. Positioning herself to rub against him, and what was poking hard into her leg.

And he laughed softly at her neediness, moving his lips to kiss her neck again, resting his face in the crook there pressing even firmer against her. Not realising until now how much he craved to fill her sweet little pussy up. His cock stiffened at the feel of warm wet slick dripping from her cute goofy knickers onto him, and began to push against her. Moaning into her skin, smelling her, and letting himself be completely captivated by her.

She whined at the feel of him. “Harry,” She sighed, all breathy. God, he loved when she said his name, but he did like when she said pretty much anything in that breathy sort of way she got when she was being taken care of underneath him.

He moved back to place a peck on her lips, before travelling down her body, first capturing a nipple in his mouth. Sucking, biting, and teasing her. Loving the sounds that she made from his supple mouth. Whiny gasps of pleasure and wet kisses filled the air.

He kissed further down to her navel and along her hips, a teasing bite against her flesh that made her squeal and laugh, jolting up slightly. “Styles!”

He peppered kissings over the bite in apology, licking a long stripe across it. “Mmm.”

He travelled further down, near the hem of her knickers, at eye level with the gorgeous slick stain begging to be lapped up by him. He looked up to find her already staring down at him, and his hands moved to hips as he nosed at her warmth, watching her squirm from the soft touch. The heady and delicious scent of her perfect pussy filled his senses as he gripped the hem of her knickers desperately.

“G’na be a good girl and let m’take care of you?” He asked her, one of his hands moving up to stroke her cheek gently. Dragging back down her body slowly waiting for her answer, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing against his palm.

She nodded eagerly grabbing his hand and squeezing it. “Please, please, need you, Daddy,” She whispered sultrily.

“Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna take care of you, Angel.” He replied, moving his hand back down and tugging them down languidly, throwing them to the floor. Welcoming her with the sight of her pretty, wet, pussy. Lips splayed out like a flower in bloom. A pearly sheen coated all over her legs and Harry licked his lips at the sight of her. 

He was so hungry to taste her and lick into that pretty hole of hers. The low light of the fire cast a gentle light over her beautiful soft flesh and silky skin. Slowly inching his face closer and he guided her legs over his shoulders, heels landing on his back and thighs pressing to his cheeks, as his hot breath hit her pussy causing her to squeeze her eyes tight and her hands to clench the couch cushion, shivering. His nose bumped into her puffy clit, as he pressed a gentle kiss into her lips. 

She breathed out softly, hands moving to his messy hair to hold him there. He began to suck on her clit, causing her hips to jolt up in surprise. His big strong hands came up to push her thighs back toward her, folding her in half, and keep her still while he ate her like she was his last meal.

“Fuck,” She uttered, bringing one of her hands up to her mouth. Harry started by licking up all the mess she’d made between her pretty little thighs getting worked up from their kissing. Normally one to tease her a lot more, but in this moment, he just wanted her to feel the best she ever had.

He noticed the noises she was making were muffled, and not as loud as he wanted, and pulled back to find her hand over her mouth.

“Y/n, Baby, don’t keep me from hearing those filthy little sounds, please.” He said one of his hands grabbing at her wrist, and the begging tone had her dropping them to her sides and squeezing the plush couch.

She blushed bashfully, “Sorry, used to needing t’be quiet, H,”

He smiled at her. “Don’t worry. It’s just us…you and me.” Before moving back down, and tonguing her fluttering hole, his thumb came up to toy with her clit. When she moaned for him, back arching up, and heels pressing further into his muscled back he smirked against her. Pulling back for a moment to praise her gently. “Much better, sucha’ good girl f’ me, love hearing your lil’ noises.”

She whined when his mouth moved up to suck on her clit, and one of his long fingers made its way to stretch her out. It slid in easily, until he was knuckle deep, “Fuck, Daddy,”

He started to curl inside her and move, fucking her, and the noises that escaped her pussy and swollen lips had him fucking his hips against the couch, cock painfully hard. When he added another finger, he could feel the tightness as she squeezed around him. He had started to hit that spot inside her, and the way he was licking at her clit, and suckling on it, her toes were curling and her hands had fallen into his already messy hair. Nails scratching at his scalp and tugging on his hair when he did something made her body twitch involuntarily.

“Oh, yes, there,” She whined when his fingers curled and grazed that spot. “G’na make me cum, Daddy? Can I?” She begged.

He pulled back, fingers still going. “Cum for Daddy, Princess.” Before going back to lick into her again.

She did, one that snuck up her. Causing a surprised gasp to escape her lips. 

A white-hot wave flooded over her whole body, causing her to shake, pussy pulsating against him, and toes curling. Sparks snapping down her spine, as a mewl left her throat. Her hips stuttered, and one of her hands moved to claw at his shoulder. He hissed against her but he didn’t stop, and Y/n felt her legs tremble, and she was going to tell him to stop but he felt so good. Despite her feeling sensitive from her previous orgasm, his tongue had her closing her eyes, a heat growing once again, as she rocked her hips chasing that familiar feeling.

He was an expert at it, and it had taken him barely any time to become a master of her body, and knew exactly how to make her finish over and over.

He licked into her cunt, lapping up the tangy sweet flavour of her. Moaning loudly as he tongued her clit, he couldn’t get enough. If he could sustain from just eating Y/n’s sweet little cunt, he’d eat her for all his meals.

Only a few minutes later she was falling apart again, a mess, but this time she squirted all over him. Unexpectedly, she felt a different feeling crash through her, and she screamed out clenching her eyes shut and her legs came to clamp around his head uncontrollably. Harry’s eyes peered up at her one of his hands playing with her nipple and squeezing her soft fleshy breast. A wetness coating his chin and throat, god, she thought for a moment there she stopped seeing and hearing for a second, when she came back to Harry pulled off her with a popping sound and her legs fell limp on either side of him. 

His fingers slide out leaving her empty, he lifted them to his mouth and sucked off the last of her. Sitting back on his knees and watching her, hands still wrapped around her legs caressing them as they trembled.

She felt herself clench around nothing, thinking about empty she felt now, and how badly she wanted his perfect dick inside her. He leaned forward again, nose brushing her tummy, as he thumbed over swollen wet petals. Her cross necklace and chain with her initial tickled her skin as he got closer to her neck. “Fuck, it’s so easy to ruin this little pussy, Baby,”

He smirked at her shiver. “Haven’t even fucked you with m’cock yet, and you’re already a mess f’me, my sweet girl.” One of his hands came up to brush some of her stray hairs away from her face. “Hmm, so beautiful.”

She melted into his touch and took a few shaky breaths as he continued to play with her sensitive pussy and hair. “Daddy…” She shut her eyes. “Need you, please,”

He looked down at her tauntingly, hand stroking her cheek. As he hovered over her naked body. He looked edible. His lips were red and probably tasted of her, a devilish smirk crept over his face. And his body, ugh, she wanted to swallow him whole. 

“Need me, huh? What d’ya mean?” He teased her, and she pouted up at him. Using her foot to kick his bum in faux annoyance.

“Harryyyy!” She really had missed him, and she really did love this boy. Messy hair, rotten mouth, tattoos, long past of other girls, his habit of teasing her for everything. She loved all of him, and shes certain she always will.

“Babyyyy.” He said back, leaning down to kiss her neck some more, leaving a mark on her collarbone. Laying on her, boxer-covered cock pressing against her warm pussy.

She pouted some more. “Pleaseee.” Her long nails came up to her arms and scratched his biceps, they were so fleshy and strong, she felt so safe wrapped up in them. He smelt delicious, and she nosed at his neck. He smelt like normal — tobacco and vanilla but had a hint of something just Harry, a heady smell that coated his skin. She wished she could stay in this moment forever. Her thighs and legs came up to wrap around him and squeeze him closer if that was even possible.

He stopped his kisses and pressed his nose to hers, brushing them together. “Please what? Can’t help if you won’t be a good girl and tell Daddy what you want…” His thumb came up to rub along her bottom lip. “Hmm? Princess?”

She blushed, staring right into his green eyes, and melted into his palm. “Can you please, please, put that pretty cock inside me, Daddy? I need it. Haven’t seen you in a week. I missed you.” Pouting her lips, she lifted her nails to his sides, scratching along his muscles and tattoos. “Please. Wanna feel you. All of you.”

He shivered at her touch, he couldn’t believe his bloody luck, pretty little Y/n from next door was begging for his cock and she was all his. His pretty girl.

He kissed her, a long one, tongues dancing together playfully, “Such a good girl f’me, Trouble.” He said against her lips and kissed her some more. His hips rutted against hers, and she rubbed against him moaning and kissing him back lazily. He could feel his boxers getting damp from her slick.

He kissed her like that until she was squeezing him so tightly, and whining loud enough that he knew it was evil to make her wait any longer. He pulled back pecking her nose and then forehead, “Y’want me inside, Baby?” His veiny tattooed hand came up to rub her tummy absentmindedly thinking of how full she’d be of him, how he’d be in her tummy hitting all those spots.

She nodded biting her lip. “God yes. You want that too, right, Styles?” She said breathlessly canting her hips against his throbbing cock.

“Yeah, I really fucking missed you, Trouble.” He said, and he sat back on his knees again tugging his boxers off. His cock sprung up, bobbing against his belly, all swollen and hard for her. As big as always, she would never get used to the sight of him. Dripping in pearls of precum, and probably a bit of her slick. His prick was all veiny, big, and hers. Her mouth watered, and she was tempted to slip him inside her throat for a taste.

She hadn’t realised her mouth was hanging open, but when Harry laughed she came back to, “What?”

“You’d think I’d never fucked you before,” He teased, licking his lips.

She sat up, eyes still trained on his stiff prick, unable to look away. “Not my fault you’re abnormally large, Styles, it’s what gives you the right to walk around like you’re gods gift,” She paused hand coming out to give him a few lazy strokes, he hissed when her thumb ran over his leaking slit. “This perfectly crafted fucking dick. Made just f’me. Right?”

His head fell back, and his eyes squeezed shut, how could feel so close to coming just from her hand tugging him a few times? Christ. His hips started fucking into her hand desperately against his mind’s better judgement, this woman had him under a spell. “Yes, Princess, all of me is made for you.” 

She pressed their foreheads together and guided the tip to touch her. Gently pressing into her wetness.

He whined. “Y/n, mm fuck, Angel,” And slowly entered her, feeling her squirm at the size of him. Stopping when he was all the way inside her. He nosed at her throat and felt her arms and legs wrap around him tightly. “You okay?”

She nodded and kissed his cheek, “Yeah, Styles, I’m good. Move f’me.”

As he started to pump inside her at a slow pace, he could feel how wet, tight, and hot she was inside. He had to fight not to finish quickly. Moaning loudly, as her hands scratched into his skin.

“Mm, shit,” She whispered squeezing hers shut, despite the fact he was moving slowly his thrusts were still deep and hitting her g-spot hard, her body was relaxed from two orgasms, and she didn’t know if she’d last long.

“Feel good, Petal?” He asked.

She nodded bumping their noses together. “Kiss me, please.”

So he did, a deep kiss, and his thrusts unconsciously went faster. Hitting that spot rapidly, and she was moaning loudly against his lips, she pulled apart to let her fall down as she panted.

“I think you’re gonna make me cum, fuck,” She mewled, and the way her pussy clenched on his cock he knew she was telling the truth, one of his hands snuck between them and while still keeping the same pace he rubbed her puffy little clit and felt it throb at his touch.

“Cum, Baby.” He ordered.

Her legs tightened around his hips and she hugged him, shaking fiercely, and cried out soft calls of his name. And he felt a dampness shoot over his thighs and cock. She’d squirted again, and he kissed her at that.

“Good girl, so good,” He cooed, pumping her through it, as he felt his own orgasm not far off.

She kissed his neck. “Will you cum in my pussy, Daddy, please? Wanna be full of you.”

And the unexpected words that spilled from his mouth made his cock twitch, and heat pool in his stomach. “Yes, Princess, m’ close.”

His head fell into the crook of her neck and shoulder and he grunted, hips speeding up and becoming more sloppy all at once.

“Yes, Daddy, cum f’me. Mmm.” She moaned, and her pussy clenched on him. And he whined, hips stuttering at her words.

“Fuck, Baby,”

It was only a few more seconds of him pounding into her and he came, hard, a guttural groan left his lips and he fucked her until all of his cum was stuffed inside her. She whimpered at the feeling, and he fell on top of her tiredly, and she hugged him close.

He lifted his head up to kiss her, cock still buried deep in her. “I- you are so perfect, I wish we could stay like this forever, Trouble.” He almost said it — those three words, but he didn’t want her to get the wrong impression. He wanted to say I love you without her thinking it had anything to do with sex.

“Me too, Styles.” She replied smiling.

They kissed a long, unhurried kiss.

When they pulled back Harry shifted them into a different position leaving his softened prick inside her for a few more minutes. Not quite ready to pull out of her.

Her back pressed into his chest, and he wrapped his big arms around her waist, squeezing her nice and close to him. Stroking her head and peppering kisses all over her, she sighed softly into his touch and in a few minutes she was asleep.

Deep heavy breaths rose and fell in his arms, letting her rest like that for a few more minutes. When he felt his eyes start to droop too, he kissed her head and woke her up to make sure they wouldn’t be all sticky. She moved over and Harry walked to the bathroom. He came back with a warm flannelette and wiped her bits and legs, kissing the tender areas as he did. She whimpered at the feeling, and Harry made sure to peck her lips and whisper sweet nothings to her.

They got back onto the couch, deciding to sleep nice and close to the fire, Harry threw the blanket over them tucking Y/n into his chest, his back against the sofa, and hers against him. Hugging her so tight she wouldn’t be able to escape, even when he lulled off he held her like the most precious thing in the world.

The fire raged for a good few hours, and when they woke up a bit later to the alarm they set to make sure Y/n got back for her class in time. Harry helped her get dressed and fixed her hair, guiding her sleepy form to the car and letting her sleep during the drive back home. Making sure to take care of her, one of his hands resting on his thigh for most of the drive.

As they drove home the sun was rising and Y/n’s soft sleepy snores filled the car, Harry watched her sleeping with the utmost admiration.

“I love you.” He whispered to himself looking at her through tired eyes. 

It was around seven thirty when they pulled up to Y/n’s house. She sleepily knuckled her eyes, and they both looked ruined, having got only four or so hours of rest.

Harry woke her gently rubbing her shoulder. “Home, Baby,”

She groaned wiping her eyes and stirring. Before leaning over to him, “I don’t wanna goooo…”

He smiled at her and moved his hand to caress her head. “Want me to pick you up after your lecture? I’ll make you some food, and we can nap. Hmm?”

She nodded. “Sounds good, Baby,”

He leaned over to peck her lips and then unbuckled his belt to open her door for her and walk her inside. 

Hand in hers he walked her to the door, Y/n threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed him deeply as Harry’s hands travelled down to her peachy bum and squeezed it. Harry placed one final peck on her puffy lips and tucked his head into her neck spinning her around in a tight hug before plopping her back on her feet and kissing her hand that was joined to his before waving goodbye and heading back to his car.

What the two hadn’t seemed to notice was Emma’s peering gaze from behind one of the many big oaks. For once she’d gotten up early, made it to her six o’clock pilates class, and was actually on her way to walk with Y/n to their Pysch class, two large seasonal coffee cups in her hands and a cute little teal workout set on ready to triumph the day. This was probably the second time in the semester Emma hadn’t been hungover or slept in and was actually here to attend the lecture with Y/n. 

So of course Y/n hadn’t expected to see her best friend, and Emma of course had not expected to see any of that.

She had been whistling happily, chirpily walking two warm delicious smelling coffees and a hop in her step. The sun was shining despite the winter air, and she only had one more exam and she was done for the Uni semester! What was there to be annoyed about? And even though this Pysch lecturer was insane, at least she’d be with lovely Y/n who would definitely tell her all the answers to the quiz that was going to take place.

She’d been so excited to surprise Y/n with a coffee and a muffin and plan the many many many parties over their coming winter break on the walk to campus. But she’d immediately stopped in her tracks when she saw her brother’s car. What the fuck was Harry doing there? Maybe shagging one of Y/n’s roomies?

But when she saw Y/n step out of the car in her pyjamas, and all close to him, Emma knew. 

She watched them kiss and giggle and had to fight the urge not to throw up, scream, or cry. Instead of doing any of those things she froze and ducked down behind the tree hiding from Harry’s car as it drove off. 

Devising silently what to do with this situation, she sat down on the grass and waited for a couple of minutes. Catching her breath and calming down from the shock.

Before soon heading to knock on the door and pretend she hadn’t seen a thing, she decided it would be best to mull things over, despite the rage thrumming through her, she plastered the biggest smile she could and waited for Y/n.

Y/n answered, now changed into a fresh set of warm comfy clothes for the lecture. A cosy big knit and a skirt with thick tights under, and these tall boots. She had a brush in her hand and was raking it through her messy hair. 

“Oh! Em! What’re you doing here?” Y/n said, peering up owlishly, and smiling. Not having expected to see Emma of all people, especially so early. She only joined the class because Y/n was taking it and then never came to a single lesson this semester.

Emma raised the two coffee cups. “We still have Psych this morning right? I bought those new cinnamon roll syrup coffees, Babe. You said you wanted to try them.”

Y/n smiled, pulling her in for a hug, “Oh you’re the best come up, I still need to do my makeup and then we can start walking, yeah?”

Emma nodded a tight-lipped smile and followed Y/n up to her room. 

Now that Emma thought about it, Y/n had been happier than normal, and Harry had been more relaxed. Less of a grumpy old oaf, and much calmer. She hadn’t seen a string of people leaving in the morning and Harry coming down hungover. She hadn’t heard drunken stumbling inside, she hadn’t smelt the familiar potent smell of Harry smoking upstairs, and she hadn’t noticed his lack of appearance at most events where Y/n wasn’t. Not until right now.

God, how could she be so stupid!!! Was she blind? She didn’t know how she hadn’t realised. She knew Y/n had fancied him when they were younger, and Harry had their whole friendship, but she’d made it clear to both of them that she didn’t approve.

How had this whole thing slipped past her? Why were they keeping it from her? Obviously, she didn’t approve! How could she? Her brother fucked anything that moved since he was fourteen, a party boy, drugs and sex a part of his daily ritual. Parties every night, and a thirst for people that could not be quenched. 

Though she loved him he had many great qualities, he was and always would be the boy who came in wrecking all her friendships by shagging the girls and ditching them.

And Y/n was hers, her best friend, and she had warned him many times that he could not go there with Y/n. Y/n was untouchable, off-limits, and innocent. Y/n wasn’t a party girl, she stayed home reading or studying, watching cheesy old shows and calling her grandma every Tuesday during her break between lectures. Y/n was perfect and sweet. She had such little experience with boys and life.

The handful of interactions Y/n had with boys had been due to Emma’s involvement, having only been with two boys her whole life. Jeremiah from sixth form who she’d lost her virginity to, Keiran an Irish lad they’d met on their holiday to Greece during a Uni summer who Y/n had spent a few weeks with. They’d met up in a few different countries that summer and shared a short romance that ended when he went back to Dublin and Y/n to London. They’d mainly just kissed, but Emma managed to find out from Y/n that Keiran was particularly good with his mouth and had a thing for eating girls out, he preferred it to sex.

Emma had also hooked up with both of them. She had given Jeremiah a blowie a year before he took an interest in Y/n at a house party. In Greece, Emma had been the one to kiss Keiran on the dancefloor before moving on to his friend Jordon who was a rugby player for the Cork team when she realised Keiran was not a famous rugby player, only a builder. 

Emma never liked the idea of anyone taking advantage of Y/n, she was sweet, and she knew her brother had to be using her for a shag. Y/n would be of no use to him otherwise. Just another notch in his belt.

Harry would never be a boyfriend guy, and Emma knew Y/n wasn’t fuck buddy material she would get attached to a pigeon in the park if it ate enough of her crumbs.

Emma refused to believe Y/n could be as naive as to fall for it. Harry was masterful with his charm, and so was she. The two siblings chewed people and spat them back out. Y/n had always noticed the restlessness about them. So, Emma could recognise what they were, and accept that settling down just wasn’t in their nature.

As Emma watched Y/n place some blush on her cheeks in the ensuite, she walked over to where Y/n’s phone was charging. A few messages popped up on the screen.

Harry Styles🍒

You are so cute, show me your outfit for today.

Call me when you are done, Baby. Em should be at Zayns we can just chill. XX

Emma gritted her teeth and placed the phone down. 

She had to think of a way to stop this and prove what Harry’s true intentions were. He couldn’t possibly love her or care, there was no way.

The walk to campus was nice, the cold had turned to a crisp clear day, and as they walked through the main bustling part of campus they saw Niall and a bunch of his frat friends chatting by Lily’s Cafe, which was the best spot on campus. It had cheap coffee that tasted good and food that didn’t look like it’s gonna run away from you.

Y/n worked there in her first year, Zayn was a barista there so they had been heading there for free donuts before their lecture. Niall spotted them, he was in a backward cap and a cosy-looking oversized crewneck and sweats, he jogged over.

“Sexy ladies, what are we up to?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “What does it look like, we are here to get a jet to Dubai, we are obviously getting coffee.”

Y/n giggled. “Don’t worry, Ni, Em is not a morning person.”

Niall rolled his eyes. “What’s got you moody Em, Zayn ain’t as good in the sack as rumours say?”

“Shut up, Niall.”

Emma and Niall never really got along, they butted heads a lot, and Niall was one of the only people to stand up to her. He thinks the reason Emma hates him is because back in first year they’d come to a frat party and of course, he’d spotted them instantly.

Y/n had been in his pink flowy dress, her hair styled up in a sleek look, big gold hoops on her ears and she looked beautiful. Niall remembers working his way over to flirt with her and being rudely interrupted by Emma. She was fit too, with a black dress and an attitude, but she wasn’t Y/n.

He hadn’t known Emma was Harry’s sister, he should’ve known from the attitude and brooding good looks, but he hadn’t put two and two together until Harry walked over to tell the girls off for coming when he’d told them not to. 

Emma walked into Lily’s as Y/n stood next to Niall. 

“How are you, mate?”

Niall lifted his arm to wrap around her shoulder and pull her into his side. “I’ll be better tonight. Please tell me you are coming?”

Y/n sighed. “Oh god, what’s tonight?”

“Cops, robbers, and sluts party at Sigma Pi Gamma.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Peter’s frat. I fucking hate that prick.”

Niall laughed. “No one likes him, Babe,”

“I don’t know if I’ll go…” Y/n said absently, thinking about curling up with Harry watching Murder She Wrote and eating Chinese takeaway.

“You have to come, if you don’t I’ll have to deal with Paddy and his mates alone. I need you..bring Styles, I need my emotional support friends.”

Y/n smiled at him. Now that she thinks about it Niall was probably one of her closest friends other than Emma. Even though Emma always tried to talk down on him. “I’ll talk to him, Em probably already planned on dragging me there tonight. What are you going as a cop or a robber?”

Niall smirked cheekily. “I’m going as a slut obviously.”

“We’ll see if I can find a costume in time. I don’t think I have anything.”

Niall shrugged and they both watched Emma through the glass window as she curled up in Zayn’s arms. “I’m sure Emma will. She’s pretty much been to every party on campus since you two arrived. Even when she was sick last month I still saw her at Seth’s place, she’s sure to have a costume for you.”

“Why don’t you two get along?” Y/n asked after a moment of silence as they soaked in the rays of the sun that today provided, the snow had stopped.

Niall laughed. “Other than the fact she’s creepily obsessed with you? She’s never liked me. I think it’s ‘cause of that one time.”

Y/n frowned. Since when was Emma obsessed with her? Emma only really cared about herself, and Y/n felt guilty as the thought crossed her mind, but Emma really did only ever focus on herself. Her outfit, her hair, her looks, her current boy of the week. Her frown deepened, what one time?

“What time? Did you two hook up or summat?” Y/n asked curiously.

Niall burst out in a cackle. “Her? And me? Puh-lease kid. She’s so not my type.”

It was true, Niall liked softness…everyone he’d dated had been like gentle teddy bears.

“What then? Flirt with a guy she fancied?” Y/n questioned. Emma got pretty territorial.

“My flirting seems to be rather forgettable, Babe.”

“Huh?”

“Do you remember your first freshers party?” Niall asked.

Y/n thought back to her first party. She wore a flowy pink dress that Harry said made her look like fairy floss, and he’d been pissed that she even came out he didn’t like them drinking. 

“Sure, summer theme right?”

He nodded. “I flirted with you all night.”

Y/n laughed in disbelief. “You did?!”

Niall smirked. “Yeah, then both your guard dogs barked at me for it. You didn’t seem to notice though.”

Y/n giggled. As if Harry cared.

“Y/n that boy has been obsessed with you since forever.”

She rolled her eyes. “No way.”

Niall then in an instant pulled up a photo of the four of them on his phone. Niall, Emma, Harry, and Y/n at a party in the girls first year, they were all dressed up for Pride in rainbows and celebrating. Harry was mooning down at her staring as Y/n grinned under Niall’s shoulder.

“Look at the way he looks at you.”

Y/n smiled, blushing. “God, he’s so annoying.”

“He’s in love,” Niall replied, certain, and Y/n leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“You are a romantic aren't you, Horan?”

To that, the boy ruffled her hair. “Maybe I actually believe in it now. Are you gonna help me with Paddy?”

She nodded, “Of course, mate,” 

This warm fuzzy feeling stayed with Y/n all the way to the Styles place. The day had turned beautiful so she’d decided to walk there. 

Emma had left to be with Zayn but they promised to see each other at that party that night. Apparently, it was impreative that Y/n come, and now that Niall had begged her she had no choice. 

When Y/n arrived at the flat she found Harry half asleep in his boxers on the couch doing a Uni assignment. Laptop on his lap and a blanket wrapped around him. He looked up at the sound of someone using the key in the door.

She stepped inside smiling at him. God, wasn’t her boyfriend yummy?

“Hey Baby, you walked?” He said happily and was going to get up to greet her but Y/n practically flew on the couch, dumping her bag on the floor and landing in his arms.

She nuzzled into his side and kissed his neck in a warm greeting. 

“Stylessss,” She mewed out, the weight of their practically sleepless night hitting her now as she melted into his side.

“Baby,” He sighed back, a hint of arousal melted down his spine at the way her lips kissed his neck ready to give her anything she asked. Jesus, this girl. His girl. She’d be the death of him. He’d spent half the night making love to her, and now she was doing this, and he was almost ready to go again and she’d hardly touched him.

Harry had to admit to himself that having a girlfriend, especially when it was Y/n was actually rather lovely. If you asked him a few months ago about his thoughts of relationships he’d say he dreaded the idea of being stuck with one person. The idea of being tied to only one, and feeling stuck, but now that he had his Y/n he didn’t feel that at all. He’d gladly stick to her for the rest of his life.

He was completely and utterly besotted with her, so when she looked up at him in her cute little way he knew he’d soon be agreeing to whatever she asked of him.

“Can you do me a favour?” She practically purred, fluttering her lashes and looking up at him. She knew he’d give in, he was a sucker for her eyes. He always talked about how much he loved them, her pretty bedroom eyes.

“What is it, Trouble?” He asked, his pupils already dilating at the way she pressed her hand into his thigh rubbing him with her soft hand. She really was trouble.

She fluttered her eyes at him once more. “I’ll give you anything you want if…” She paused licking her lips and leaning in closer.

“If I what, Trouble?” He asked, biting his lip and lifting his hand to push the hair that had fallen in front of her face away. “Hmm? What is it, Baby?”

She dropped the act, bringing her hands together in a begging motion, “If you pretty please come to this ridiculous party tonight to help Niall with Paddy’s mates? Plus Em was gonna drag me anyway, I need you with me. Pleaseeee!”

Harry groaned throwing his head back against the top of the couch, showing off his neck that was covered in marks from last night. He really had not wanted to anything but sleep and hopefully hangout with his girlfriend in peace.

“Babyyy, we were gonna have a nice night innnn, I’m so tireddd.” Harry whined out his hands covering his face, he’dalready planned a night of binging that silly show Y/n liked and kissing her, a lot.

She nods, pouting, and putting her hands on his shoulders rubbing them softly with her palms. “I know, Baby, I know, but if you do I promise you won’t regret it.”

He looks up, a devilish smirk crossing onto his face. “What will you give me if I do, hmm?”

She smirks back at him and leans forward to plant a kiss on his lips, they taste like toothpaste and strawberries. He must have been eating them before she got here. She lets out a soft little moan against his lips as his hands creep up under her shirt. God, she really can’t get enough of this boy. He’s just..ugh. Her need for him is insatiable.

His hands grip her tighter and he pulls onto his lap urgently. She giggles against his kiss and lets her hands mess with his gorgeous hair, her nails scratching the nape of his neck causing him to sigh out. She pulls back and begins to pepper kisses down his neck and shoulders, over his swallows tattoos and further down. 

“Please?” She asks, pouting her lips and fluttering her beautiful eyes at him. 

He looks at her, “Y/n, don’t do the face.” He’s almost begging because he wants to give this girl the whole world and more, for nothing in return.

She moves off his lap sinking to her knees onto the floor of the plush shag carpet, and she places her hands on his thighs, sitting between his muscular legs. She begins to caress his legs gently, her small delicate hands slowly travelling further and further up his bare legs. “What face?”

He throws his head back for what feels like the thousandth time. “God, Baby,”

She sits up a bit, tucking her feet under her bum, kneeling right before him as her hands travel to his waistband playing with it teasingly. He shivers under her touch arching into it subconsciously. “Should I stop, Styles?”

He shakes his head looking back down at her and biting his lip. “No.” Harry slowly moves one of his down to her face, he rubs warm skin, a big hand cupping her cheek like he’s done many times before. “Such a good girl, aren’t you?”

She kisses the palm of his hand in response and then moves forward to kiss his tiger tattoo on his muscular thigh. He lets go of her face moving his hand into her hair and pushing it back from her eyes. “So pretty, Baby,”

She blushes and then moves her kisses up along his other thigh and nipping at the milky flesh of the inner part of his muscle, leaving a little pink love bite that causes his breath to hitch and dick to rise in his boxers even more. Fuck. She was fucking made for him. No one had ever understood him and his body so well. Not like his Y/n.

He lets go of her face grabs her small hand in his brings it up to his waistband and puts it inside his boxers and she feels him. She slowly pulls his hard throbbing dick out with the help of his hand guiding her. As she lets go it springs up against his tummy and she shuffles closer and looks up at him.

“What do you want, Daddy?” She whispers. “My mouth or my hands?”

Harry smirks bringing his hand yet again to her face dragging a thumb across her glossy lips. 

“Mouth baby.” He drawls, as his hand slides down her throat gently stroking the side of her neck before drifting to her shoulder and pulling her even closer to him.

She leans down, her warm breath fanning against him, as her glossy lips graze his pretty pink tip. Then, one little kitten licks teasing against his glistening cock, and his hands instantly come flying down to her hair. Without much thought, he tugs it back out of her face so she can get to work on him just how he likes.

She purses her lips a trail of spit landing on his hard cock, dripping down all the way to his balls. She opens her mouth and then slowly takes the head of him in her mouth, sucking gently, causing Harry to moan. His thighs flex as he fights not to push up into the back of her tight hot throat.

As Y/n expertly starts to move up and down on him, he clenches his jaw letting out a deep grunt. The part of him Y/n can’t fit in her mouth she grabs with her hand that is already covered in slick from his messy tip. This causes Harry’s thighs to shake a little bit as his hips stutter into her mouth. She makes a choked noise bringing him out of the haze of pure bliss she’d given him. He doesn’t want to be too rough with her, but she’s making it hard.

“Sorry, Petal,” He says, a pinched expression covering his features as he looks down at her. “You just make me feel s’good.”

She has tears in her eyes as she takes him ever deeper, the sight in front of him is downright filthy. His pretty girl takinghis big cock in her little lips, choking and crying over it, all desperate to make him. He watches her, as her throat chokes around him. Y/n fights the urge to stop — her lungs begging for her to take a breath. Harry’s eyes practically roll back in his skull and he moans. 

“Oh, fuck, Trouble.”

She pulls up for a gasp of air, her hand still stroking him at the pace he likes, the trail of spit a mess on him and her hand. His tip is leaking pearls of precum, and his prick twitches in her grasp. Despite her only just starting he feels close, so close. Dangerously, so.

“You can be rougher if you want, Daddy,” She says breathily. “I won’t mind.”

He brings his hand to her face, “C’mere.”

She pouts. “But I promised to take care of you.” She says not moving from her kneeling position.

“I know Baby, and I’m so close to cumming. Pretty fucking mouth. All mine.” He praises gently caressing her head. “But I want you. Need to fuck you.” He asks pleadingly. “Will you let me, Angel?”

Y/n agrees at that and climbs messily onto his lap. He kisses her, with a deep passion that makes her tummy curl deliciously with want. Harry tugs the layers of her clothes off in a mess with rough hands. He’s wild, untamable, not stopping until she’s just in her cute icy blue bra and that skirt with the little tights that drive him wild. He’d always been a sucker for Y/n’s short skirts.

“Are you particularly attached to these tights, Trouble?” He says softly as he peppers kisses down her neck It is making it awfully hard for her to think straight let alone form a coherent sentence.

“Hmm, no, why?” She says breathily, eyes fluttering shut in his firm gentle hold.

His answer is one of his strong hands travelling over the curve of her body to her rounded ass, and clawing at the flimsy fabric until he has access to the pale-coloured knickers she was wearing and better access to her silky supple skin. She tugs his hair and kisses his lips hastily, too horny to care about her tights as he begins to toy with her already-dampened knickers.

She whines into his mouth pulling back as she drags her hips along his exposed, sensitive length. “Mm, fuck, Daddy.”

This causes Harry to falter letting out a deep groan. “You’re s’fucking beautiful. You know tha’?”

Y/n giggles in reply.  Slowly moving her hand from his chest down to in between them, she grabs her knickers pulling them to the side. She knows what she wants, and she’s going to get it. With her slick-covered fingers, she grasps his aching cock. It throbs with want against her palm, and she guides the leaking head to her entrance. She winces at the sting of him, and Harry watches her with hooded eyes as his hands massage her bum. He watches as Y/n slowly takes him inside of her.

The head of him nudging past her folds, her sweet pussy slowly enveloping the rest of him. When Y/n finally sinks all the way down she lets out a straggled cry, Harry groans into her ear trying to keep his pleasure at bay. “Oh fuck, right there.” She whispers into his neck, giving herself a second before she moves.

“You okay, Trouble?” He asks quietly brushing some hair from her face and kissing her hairline.

She looks up into his eyes and nods at him. “I’m good Styles. You?” She whispers back as the burning sensation melts into something of toe-curling pleasure.

He nods as a heart-stopping grin splits across his face and he leans close to place a few kisses on her lips. “I wish I could be inside this pussy, all day, every day. You know that?”

She whines and starts to move a little, grinding forward causing him to graze that spot that makes her eyes roll back, she gasps a little and Harry didn’t know he could be this fucking turned on. She repeats that motion a few times before finally getting her knees in the right position to start bouncing up and down on him. He watches her with those green eyes as Y/n starts to move up and down.

Her hands fly to his hair tugging it, as her lips clash against his messily. Feeling his lips on hers grounds her, her body shakes in pleasure as he grunts from her rough tugs on his hair which only sends shots of pleasure to her tummy. Why hadn’t she tried this position with him sooner? It felt so fucking good she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to last long. He’s so deep like this.

Harry’s hands move from her ass, travelling up her spine, ring-covered fingers gently dragging up her soft skin causing her to shiver, as they eventually fall back to her plush hips and help guide her.

As if he could read her mind, one of his big hands comes between them, right where they connect and he grazes her puffy clit. Pulling back from the kiss to tell her sweet nothings. 

“Keep going, Baby,” He encourages as she keeps up the pace. Making sure each bounce she gets him inside her deeper and deeper. His fingers are still persistent on her causing shockwaves of pleasure to wash over her.

Her hands move to his muscular shoulders and she wraps herself up in his embrace, her face right in his neck as she listens to the moans and sounds he makes. She squeezes her eyes shut and focuses on the rhythm until eventually she feels him pounding against that spongy spot inside her and she cries out involuntarily.

“Fuck, Daddy,” She says breathlessly as he brings her face up to meet his in a kiss. His big hand pawing at her warm cheek. His lips captured all the filthy noises from her mouth but did little to prevent the sounds that filled the room from quietening. Her wet pussy swallowed up his prick greedily, all wet tight and hot on him, as his balls slap against her ass, and their lips smack in a messy kiss.

He wants to stay in this moment forever. The perfect rhythm, like their bodies were always meant to be connected like. Asone. She pulls back with a gasp, her legs beginning to shake from pleasure and strain. “Atta girl,” He says. “Doing so good for Daddy, Baby.”

His hand slides to her throat gently caressing her neck, and she claws at his arm desperately. “I’m close,” 

And just like that all the control and slight dominance she’d had is gone out the window as she begs him to help her through it. Her hips stutter and her bouncing lessens.  “Please, Daddy, can I?”

He nods kissing her nose. “Need some help, Trouble?”

She nods desperately and his hand moves from her throat to around her waist and he holds her still hovering over him, he plunges inside her again but this time he’s the one in control. With no warning he begins to pound into her hitting the sweet spot inside her over and over, but harder than ever. She feels an overwhelming feeling in her tummy as her hole flutters around him.

“Daddy,” She whispers. “M’ guna’ cum. Please, don’t stop.”

Harry has the nerve to chuckle, despite how close he is too, that devilish grin covering his face as he watches her falling apart for him. “Come on Angel, cum for me. Be Daddy’s good girl and cum.”

As his words melt down her spine she cums, just like that. Her eyes squeeze shut and she sees a golden haze of warmth behind her eyelids, the feel of her release is like a crack of thunder as his merciless thrusts inside her do not cease when the peak of her orgasms snaps. She throws her head back and shivers uncontrollably, thighs shaking as she takes him.

Harry continues, and when she finally manages to pry her eyes open and meet his gaze she feels his thrusts go sloppy. She leans in to kiss him, an overwhelming sense of safety and comfort in this bubble fills her mind, and when she pulls back she smiles. 

“Cum, Daddy,” She says. “Wanna feel full of you.”

He moans, his eyes pinching shut, and that's when she feels him shoot inside her. She sighs contently letting him ride the high of his orgasm before they slowly melt into the couch. She didn't dare move yet, even though he’d gone soft. When he opens his eyes she brushes some of his mused hair back. “Kiss me, Styles,”

He leans in, a smirk cast over his face, before pecking her lips.

She smiles at him. “So…what are we wearing at the party tonight?”

He sighs throwing his head back in defeat. He knows he’ll be going, those damn puppy dogs and her little pouty face. He begins leaning in and nudging his nose along her neck. She giggles at the feeling.

“What's the theme?” He drawls.

“Umm..cops robbers and sluts?” Y/n says softly.

Harry looks up at her. “You should go as a robber, Trouble.”

Y/n smiles, puzzled at that comment. “Why?”

He smirks placing one of his hands on his chest. “You’ve stolen my heart,”

She leans in and kisses him. “Good luck getting that one back, sap.”

THANKS FOR READING!!!! XXX

[pollyanna-nana]

One of the most tragic and compelling aspects of Dunmeshi, to me, is that we’ll probably never know (unless Kui tells us lol) how Delgal actually felt about Thistle. I’ve seen people say that he genuinely cared for him as a brother and his journey to the surface was to save him from his madness as much as it was his people. I’ve seen people say that he saw Thistle as nothing more than a fancy accessory or tool that ended up going astray. Others I’ve seen (and personally agree with) say that the truth lies somewhere in the middle. But honestly, I think any one of these interpretations has the potential to be correct… and that’s just heartbreaking.

After all, Delgal is dead. Like, dead-dead. The very first chapter of the manga starts with his spirit leaving this mortal coil, taking that answer with him. And…

How he talks about Thistle here… it’s interesting. He does not ask for him to be talked down, or captured or imprisoned, but instead “defeated”. Which Mithrun interprets as asking for his death… which is reasonable, because that’s likely how the vast majority of adventurers interpreted his words, too. Obviously as he was crumbling to dust he probably didn’t have the capacity to be particularly verbose or explain the complex backstory to how the kingdom ended up this way, but the effect is the same no matter how he may have felt with it. He asked for Thistle to be killed.

But… even in situations where he wasn’t under any such time limit to explain what was going on, he still seemed not to. Most glaringly:

Yaad seemingly has no idea that it was Delgal’s fault that Thistle sought the demon’s power. Obviously he couldn’t talk to him about it because Thistle was, uh, a little out there by that point, but why didn’t Delgal explain? Was he embarrassed? Mournful? Couldn’t find the words?

Delgal was scared of dying. He wanted prosperity at any cost, and how could Thistle possibly refuse? Did he even realize that what he was the one who pushed his own brother— One who basically helped raise him despite being a child himself, and in many ways is still a child— down this path? Or was it like watching an overzealous employee misinterpret directions?

The way Yaad describes things here makes it sound like Thistle simply dug too deep in his studies and fell into madness, but we know that’s not true. Delgal didn’t “suggest” he learn magic, he wanted a mage who could help himself and his people defy death, which he admits to Thistle openly:

So, why? Why not tell his grandson, at least, the truth of the matter? Did he worry it might make the remaining residents more likely to upset Thistle, and therefore suffer the consequences? Did he just not care? For what it’s worth though, Yaad does suspect the truth from Delgal’s behavior.

He “always blamed himself” for his descent into the dark arts. This is just Yaad’s observation, and that’s without knowing that it was quite literally Delgal’s fault Thistle went down this path. So, why? Why was it all kept a secret?

Of course, this made things ripe for the winged lion to manipulate to its advantage. Clearly despite knowing he’d pushed him into using it, Delgal still thought the lion was a force of good that was misused by Thistle as a result of his madness. His face in that last panel is particularly haunting. He looks terrible, gaunt and pale with overgrown hair and missing teeth. Had he gone mad, with grief and sorrow, as well?

Could he no longer see Thistle the way he did when they were younger? No one can ask him, because he died long before the story even began.

To go back to the original question, well, how did Delgal see Thistle? None of the previous points make a definitive answer any clearer, and I think that’s just brilliant. And so, so tragic.

[evajzcks]

shattering control ── tom riddle x reader

summary: tom gets in a fight for you for the first time and you help him clean his wounds

warnings: none? grumpy tom x sunshine reader

word count: idk but it is short

everything happened so fast. one moment, he was standing in the hallway, and the next, he was throwing punches at the guy who was trying to get your attention.

tom wasn’t an impulsive man. he never acted on impulse. everything he did was calculated, controlled, and with the intention of achieving something. but the moment he saw the discomfort on your face and the way the ravenclaw was grabbing your arm, he lost it.

“hey, I’m trying to talk to you,” you said when you noticed tom wasn’t listening to you.

“i’m listening,” tom muttered, still lost in his thoughts.

his hands were still shaking from adrenaline. when he closed his eyes, he could still see the red that blinded him the moment he lost control.

“you’re clearly not. otherwise, you would’ve sat on the bed already,” you said, rolling your eyes. “you’re just standing there like a creep.”

after tom finally came back to his senses, you brought him to your room and tried to clean his knuckles. but he just stood there, staring at his bloodied hands.

your relationship with tom wasn’t a secret to anyone. most of the time, the two of you were together after being paired up in defense against the dark arts class. it all started with silent study sessions in the library, both of you enjoying the other’s presence. then came lingering looks, followed by little touches here and there.

while you were energetic, bright, and talkative, tom was calm, controlled, and dark. yet somehow, your contrasting personalities seemed to complement each other perfectly.

“i was just thinking,” tom finally said after a moment, sitting on your bed and watching as you grabbed what looked like a first-aid kit.

“care to share your thoughts?” you asked, softly taking his hands and beginning to clean his wounds with care.

“i don’t know what happened to me,” he admitted quietly. the way you were tending to his hands, the fight, the blur in his head—it all felt too overwhelming.

tom hadn’t been raised with a family, nor had he ever cared about anyone but himself. that was, until you came into his life. now, the rage that consumed him when he saw the guy with you felt like it was tearing down the control he’d spent years mastering, along with the walls he’d built around his emotions.

“why don’t you use magic?” tom asked, watching you with a soft but puzzled expression. “it’s more efficient.”

“but it’s less caring,” you replied, kissing his hands gently. “and clearly, you feel something very strong for me, considering you just got into your first fight over a girl and almost killed a classmate.”

“if i acted with control, i probably would’ve done worse,” he muttered, rolling his eyes as he noticed the smile tugging at your lips.

“oh yes, you would’ve hexed him!”

“worse…” he murmured, disgusted with his actions. if he’d waited, he might have ended up tossing a body into the black lake by now.

“he was bothering me, but you know you can’t just kill everyone, right?” you teased, starting to clean the small bruise on his lip. “i’ll kiss it better.”

“you’re mine, and people should know that,” tom said, pretending to be annoyed by the care you were giving him. “you’ve grown too soft.”

“and you’re grumpy,” you replied, placing a soft kiss on his lips and smiling slightly. “also, you can’t say I’m yours when you won’t even let me call you boyfriend.”

“don’t play with that, Y/N,” he said, gripping your hips firmly as he pulled you into his lap, his earlier worries long forgotten. “that term is too mundane. you know we’re past that.”

a/n: this is my first fanfic here on tumblr so let me know if you liked!!!!!!!! i might do a part two but this time longer 😞

[verstappen-cult]

CHASING HEARTS | MV1 & CL16

summary: you’ve been friends with max and charles for quite a while now, but as much as you’ve tried you just can’t keep denying your true feelings anymore. so, what happens when they came knocking on your door demanding an explanation?

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader x charles leclerc. content warnings: hurt/comfort, poly relationship.

“she said she was busy studying,” charles says as he gets out of max’s car parked right in front of your building. “i don’t think we should be here.”

max gives him an exasperated look. “and you really believe that?” when charles shrugs, max can’t help but roll his eyes. “she’s been ignoring us and giving poor excuses to not hang out with us for weeks, don’t you think it’s a little strange?”

charles, in fact, finds it strange. at first he thought nothing of it, but then max came to him ranting about how he saw you hanging out with oscar and lando, laughing about something the younger boy had said, but when he got closer, that beautiful and melodic laugh died in your throat, and you didn't look at him once.

charles just looked at max and waited patiently until the boy stopped his ranting. what came next was a conversation that was bound to happen. but when they tried to approach you they were met with a cold text saying you were too busy, while you tried very hard not to cross paths with them around university.

they just can't take it anymore. ambushing you at your own house it's probably a bad idea, but hey, they need answers.

the elevator ride to your apartment can't be fast enough, max thinks that if he has to spend another minute without knowing what happens he will most definitely go crazy.

the blonde-haired boy slams his fist against your door, anxiety and anger building inside of him. charles has to put his hand on his shoulder to try and ground him.

you open the door wrapped in a very cosy blanket, surprised to find them there. "hi?" you say, at a loss for words. you've missed them, you'd be lying if you say that having them in front of you, even if max looks angry and charles a little sad, it's not what you've been dreaming about.

"hi, sweetheart." charles gives you his signature smile, with dimples on display and everything. "can we come inside?" he asks, but max is already pushing the door open and making his way into your home.

"i can't to his anymore," it's the first thing max says, hands on hips and a frustrated expression on his face. "what is happening? i need an answer now. we need answers. you've kept us in the dark long enough."

charles knows max is hurting and trying very hard not to take it out on you, even if you're the who caused this, so, he takes a step forward.

"we've missed you, right?" the monégasque raises his eyebrows, throwing daggers at him. max sighs, shoulders dropping slightly. "we just need to know why are you ignoring us. and if after that you don't want to see us again, then... we will not force you."

that's exactly what you don't want to do and why you distanced yourself in the first place. you promise yourself you were not going to tell them the reason.

you close the door while wrapping the blanket tighter around your shoulders, as if that is going to magically make you disappear.

"i—um, it's not..." you avoid making eye contact, fearing that if you do your walls will crumb and you'll let your true feelings rise to the surface. you're in great danger already.

max makes a noncommittal grunt and mutters something under his breath.

you sigh, putting on a brave face. "i just been busy. finals are around the corner and i've been distracted," you raise your eyes to, finally, look at them and charles heart skips a beat, even if he catches your gaze for just a second.

"bullshit," max hisses through his teeth, seeing right through you. why did you thought you'd succeed in lying to them? "did we do something to upset you?"

"no! no, you didn't to anything wrong." you rub your hands over your face, exasperated.

"then why are you doing this?" charles really doesn't understand because you aren't making any sense. "we thought everything was fine.”

max inhales softly, counting to ten in his head. "i even asked lando if he knew something and he said it was not his secret to tell, so, we know something is happening."

"i can't be your friend anymore!" you feel tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"what?" both say at the same time, but you don't have the heart to look at their faces.

max runs his hands through his hair, it's a little too long again and you'd volunteer to cut it if it weren't for what's happening right now.

charles paces around the living room, alternating between looking at you and then at his feet.

"it's not that big of a deal," you shrug, walking past them into the kitchen to make some tea just to have something to do. "it's not like i'm an important part of your life."

they follow you into the kitchen because of course they can't leave it at that.

"what are you talking about?" charles sounds broken, he can't believe you'd think so little of you. and what you actually mean to him and max. "if you really think we can forget about you that easily, then you don't know me. or max." he says, tugging at max's wrist.

"you're very, very important to us. we care about you, we've been so worried—"

"i just can't, okay!?" you turn around, forgetting all about the tea. "i can't get in the way. i won't."

"in the way of what?" max sounds so confused, and when you look at charles, his expression is the same one as the boy standing next to him.

"i know you're together." you whisper, glancing fearfully between them.

"well, obviously." charles chuckles, amusement tilting his voice, but his expression still shows how confused he is. "i mean, we're not exactly subtle about it. and we spend a lot of time together, so, you would've noticed, eventually."

"that's exactly the problem!" you throw your hands in the hair, finally giving up. you can't do it anymore. "i like you." your eyes widen in fear once you hear yourself saying the words you swore to yourself you would not to say out loud.

max looks at charles, but charles keeps looking at you like you've grown a third head or something. and when neither of them says anything, you know you've fucked everything up.

"i like you, too." charles finally says, letting go of max wrist to get closer to you, but he doesn't get too far because you are moving out of the way, away from him as much as you can.

"you don't understand," you look at them with cheeks burning with embarrassment. "i like you. both of you. and not like friends should like other friends, okay? so i can't be friends with you."

max laughs, like actually laughs, throwing his head backwards and all. it makes you feel stupid and tiny in that big, stupid kitchen.

you should not have said it. you should have made something up, you should have acted like a grown ass adult and shove those feelings deep inside of you, forgetting all about wanting to be held by them, and kissed, and comforted.

stupid girl with stupid feelings—

"hey," max says, in a voice too small to be his own. "can i come a little closer?" your shoulders tighten, you really want to say no but you are nodding before your mind can catch up with it.

max walks slowly, being followed closely by charles. they don't want to scare you and have you walking away from them again.

"sometimes," max says carefully as you bite your lip trying to regulate your breathing. "these things happen. we're not actually seeking them but, as most things in life, things happen... i know how that feels, schatje." charles lifts his right hand so, so slowly, until is resting on your hip, fingers pressing into your skin ever so slightly.

"i'm so sorry, max —"

"don't apologize. you don't need to apologize for having feelings." he says and you bite your lower lip harder, tasting blood. you don't deserve his gentleness, you don't deserve charles’ caring touch, you don't deserve anything. "you didn't do anything wrong, okay?”

you open your mouth to say something, but close it again quickly when charles shakes his head.

"you still don't get it, do you?" the brown-haired boy asks, and coos at you when you tilt your head to the side. "max, she doesn't get it."

they share a knowing look, smiling playfully when his eyes are back on you again. you feel lightheaded, aware that something is happening right in front of your eyes but not understanding a single thing.

"we planned on having this conversation a little bit different," charles beings to say as max's hand finds comfort on your lower back. "max would cook something for us and we would eat, then watch and movie and, at the end of the night, we would have this conversation."

max hums, nodding along. "but you ghosted us and fucked all of our plans." the monégasque slaps his chest playfully with his free hand while you feel like you're gonna be sick.

"wha—what are you talking about?" your heart is about to be spilled out onto the floor.

"we like you, too." charles confirms, his voice rumbling through your ears.

"we didn't noticed what was happening at first," max has a small, shy smile on his face as he remembers the exact moment he had the conversation with charles, where both of them ended up crying while trying to understand what it all meant to them. "it was thanks to you ignoring us that we realized our true feelings."

"at least something good happened because of it." charles' voice is small like a child's and, for the first time in forever, you cup his cheek, his skin feeling soft and so warm. you do the same with max, getting goosebumps all over your body.

"you're not playing with me?" you need to be sure before getting your hopes up.

max's grips tightens on you. "we aren't that cruel, baby."

you want to cry. and scream, and laugh, and cry some more.

you look at each other for what feel like ages, you've missed each other so much that now that you are finally reunited, you don't want to be apart anymore.

then, the three of you start giggling like children.

"can i kiss you?" charles shyly ask, earning a snort from max beside him.

your tiny nod it's all he needs to lean in and brush his lips against yours. it's a timid kiss, tasting each other slowly. it's delicate and gentle, you feel like floating up in the air which leaves you feeling dizzy when he eventually pulls away.

max doesn't asks, he just leans and waits for you to make the first move. which you definitely do. there are butterflies in you belly and you feel so nervous that you bump your nose with his, making them both laugh. max grins into the kiss and lets you take all the control, following your lead.

their kisses leave you feeling warm all over and with a buzzing in your ears that even after an hour of making out still won’t go away.

it's stupid and it's not gonna be easy. there are so many preconceptions about poly relationships that you know people will talk. but for now you don't care about anything but the two boys glued to your sides as you cuddle together on the couch.

[girllblogging777]

𝑀𝐼𝐷𝑁𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇 𝑅𝐸𝑉𝐸𝐿𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁𝑆

↳ frenemies mattheo riddle x fem!reader (drabble)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 0,7k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : mattheo enjoys teasing the overachiever girl, until she lets him see her wild side (anon request)

✩✩✩✩

the sound of your footsteps echoed through the dark, empty hallways of hogwarts. you were making your way back from a late-night study session in the library, with your arms full of books, and eyelids heavy with exhaustion. your overachiever nature had kept you there for hours, to the point where the words on the pages started to blur. tired as you were, you didn’t notice the tall figure approaching.

“and what are you doing, wandering the hallways after curfew?” a familiar voice called out, a hint of amusement in it. you couldn’t see his face clearly, but the dark energy and broad shoulders told you exactly who it was. mattheo riddle. you two had been partnered in potions a few months back, and now he seemed to think it was his job to bother you whenever he pleased.

you tried to sound confident, but your exhaustion made your voice come out weaker than you intended. “none of your business, riddle,” you said, pausing for a moment before adding, “i was studying for the history of magic exam. now, can you leave me alone?” but mattheo didn’t move, instead, his eyes shamelessly scanned you from head to toe, his expression unreadable.

“studying this late at night?” he asked, though it wasn’t a question. he knew well enough how serious you were about your studies, always at the top of the class, not just in your house, but probably in all of them. “yeah,” you shrugged, trying to act like it was no big deal.

he looked you over again for a few seconds, then smirked, muttering, “good girl.” his words, paired with that devilish grin, sent a strange thrill through you, making your knees feel weak. it wasn’t just the exhaustion this time. your mind went blank, and all you could do was nod before turning and walking away. but as you did, you couldn’t ignore the warmth spreading through your cheeks and lower stomach : you liked being praised.

✩✩✩✩

that same feeling hit you again a couple of weeks later when you got an a+ on the history of magic essay you’d studied so hard for. you were sitting in potions next to your infamous curly-haired partner, still buzzing from your grade, when mattheo’s voice cut through your thoughts.

“so, what’d you get in history of magic?” he asked, his eyes genuinely interested as they met yours.

you tried to play it cool, shrugging as you whispered back, “oh, i got an A.” he nodded, like he expected that answer. of course, he did. everyone knew you always got good grades—the only person who ever doubted it was you.

“there’s a party friday night in the slytherin common room,” he said casually, “you coming? after all that studying, you deserve a reward.” the bell rang before you could answer, and as you packed up your things, you finally replied, “i’ll think about it.” with that, you turned and left the classroom, not without hearing the words “atta girl” leaving his mouth in a whisper.

✩✩✩✩

that friday night, the slytherin common room was alive with music and laughter. people were either dancing wildly or getting drunk by the bar, the atmosphere electric. you were stretched out confidently on a sofa with your friends, head back as you laughed at their jokes. at one point, one of them handed you a cigarette, and you took it, inhaling slowly and leaving a lipstick mark on the filter. what you didn’t notice was mattheo, watching you from across the room, his jaw practically on the floor. he’d expected you to show up, but he hadn’t expected to see you enjoying yourself this much. when he saw you exhale a cloud of smoke, he was practically drooling.

a couple of hours later, feeling a buzz from the alcohol, you decided to get up and dance. the stress of exam week was long gone as you began to sway your hips to the music with your friends. mattheo barely had time to react before he saw you climb onto a table, flipping your hair and grinding against one of your friends. “what. the actual. fuck,” he muttered, his words slurred from the drinks. his friends overheard and chuckled, “yeah, man, looks like your good girl is the life of the party tonight.”

the night in the slytherin common room was wild, and you were the center of it all, dancing without a care. the music and drinks had you feeling more free than you had in weeks.

you could feel mattheo’s eyes on you the whole time. his usual smirk was gone, replaced with something like fascination. after a while, you made your way over to him, heart pounding.

“what’s wrong, riddle?” you teased, leaning close. “cat got your tongue?” he stared at you, voice low when he finally spoke. “didn’t know you had this side to you.”

“there’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you replied with a smile. he just watched you, clearly intrigued, as you turned and walked away, knowing this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see this side of you. “merlin, this girl is gonna be the death of me…”

✩✩✩✩

a/n : this is my first time writing based of a request, but they’re now open so send me some ideas !!! please like/comment/reblog (and i promise part 4 of “untouchable” will be here soon)

tell me if you wanna be in the tag list xx

@elsie-bells @reys-letters @tateshifts @redeemingvillains @myunperfektstorys @enyway @icantkeepmyplantsalive @shiftingwithmars @mattheosdior @deadghosy @larmesdevanille @moonlightreader649 @fbvreadingblog @iris-qt @fluffycookies22 @yikesitslush @bellatrix-lestrange5 @jolly4holly

[writhyv]

⋆｡°✩ the eyes, they never lie

he was only supposed to be gathering ashwinder eggs with you, but why does he keep catching feelings for you instead?

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ pairing — sim jaeyun x reader

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ tags — fluff, hogwarts legacy au, any hogwarts house reader, jake x reader, jake has been developing this silent crush with you for a long while now since you've been in school, sorta loser!jake

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ warning + notes — anybody deathly afraid of spiders dni! not too much but it does say acromantulas so be warned asfjhfja, also if this goes well, should i start a series? def game for hogwarts enha typa beat

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ word count — 1.8k

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ looking for my main masterlist? — here's the legacy one!

GET THOSE ASHWINDER EGGS BEFORE SHARP FINDS OUT!!

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚　

The fire in the Gryffindor common room crackled with a warm tune to your ears as Jake flopped onto the sofa beside you, his parchment unfurling with a dramatic fwip. His notes were less understandable handwriting and more chaotic hieroglyphics.

A quote underlined three times, accompanied by a doodle of a serpent breathing fire onto what might’ve been Professor Sharp’s face.

You smirked. “You know, if Sharp sees that, he’ll assign you to scrub the entire owlery. With a toothbrush.”

Jake groaned, flopping his head and relaxing his back onto your side. “He’ll kill me if I don’t fix this potion. You saw the Draught of Living Death. It tried to strangle Garreth!”

“It was just being affectionate,” you said, plucking a Chocolate Frog from the table. “Like a ... say a very aggressive kneazle.”

He snorted, but his grin faded as he stared at the map of the Forbidden Forest. “I've changed my mind! I can just … I dunno, transfigure a chicken egg and hope Sharp doesn’t notice.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I thought you aced all Magical Studies? Drenching an egg in orange paint isn't such a smart idea.”

“But ... Acromantulas!”

“Ah, so that’s why you invited me,” you said, tossing the Frog wrapper into the air and igniting it into oblivion in a whip of your wand. “Bait.”

Jake’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “No! I just—you’re good at… y’know. The thinking part. And the not-dying part.”

“Flatterer.”

He nudged your knee with his, his smile returning. “C’mon. It’ll be like that time we stole the pumpkin pastries from the kitchens. Except with more… legs.”

You sighed, but the warmth in your chest betrayed you. Jake had always been like this—reckless, bright, and so alive it hurt to look at him sometimes.

The forest was a cathedral of shadows, its canopy blotting out the stars. Jake’s Lumos charm trembled in his hand, casting shaky light over the gnarled roots and moss-stained stones. You walked shoulder-to-shoulder, close enough to feel the heat of his arm through his robes.

“Damp spots, right?” you muttered, stepping over a creek swollen with rainwater. “Ashwinders nest near—”

A twig snapped.

Both of you froze. Jake’s wand jerked toward the sound, his breath shallow. “P-probably just a bowtruckle,” he whispered.

“Bowtruckles don’t weigh 200 pounds,” you said, slowly reaching for your wand.

The clicking started first—a wet, rhythmic sound that made your skin crawl. Then the eyes appeared: eight glowing orbs in the dark, followed by the hulking silhouette of an Acromantula.

“W-what do we do?” Jake huffed, looking at you as if waiting for your cue.

You could see the flicker of fear in his eyes, a vulnerability that Jake rarely showed. He often tried to act tough and casual, but in moments like this, it was clear how much he relied on your presence. And you were determined to protect him, no matter what.

The spiders herded you into a clearing, their legs weaving through the underbrush with predatory precision. The largest one lunged first, fangs glistening with dangerous venom.

“We’ll face them together,” you assured him, trying to instill some confidence.

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚　

In a whim, Jake reacted on instinct.

“Incendio!”

The fireball hit its face, and the creature recoiled with a shriek. With a bit of your help, you shouted a Stunning Spell, but the spider dodged, its leg slicing the air where his head had been.

“Jake, duck!”

He dropped. With a quick flick, you casted a Cutting Curse that severed the spider’s leg, black blood splattering the area. The Acromantula collapsed, thrashing, but two more surged forward.

“Circle!” you barked, grabbing Jake’s arm and pulling him back-to-back with you.

“W-what?”

“They’re ambush predators—they’ll come at us from all sides. Watch the flanks!”

Jake nodded, his jaw set. You felt him tremble, but his voice steadied. “Stupefy!”

The spell hit a spider mid-leap, knocking it into a tree. Another skittered toward you, mandibles snapping. You pivoted, slashing your wand. “Diffindo!”

The spider’s leg flew off, but a third slammed into you from behind. Your wand skidded into the shadows.

“No—!”

“Hey!” Jake roared, hurling a rock at the Acromantula. “Argghhh ... Eat this, you big ugly balls of lint!!!”

The spider hissed, charging him. Jake scrambled backward, tripping over a stumped root.

You dove for your wand, taking charge with a quick aim. “Arresto Momentum!”

The freezing charm hit the Acromantula mid-pounce. It hung in the air, frozen, venom dripping from its fangs.

“Depulso!”

The Banishing Charm sent it crashing into its kin. You hauled Jake to his feet, his hand clammy in yours.

“You okay?”

He nodded, breathless. “Y-you just… you’re insane.”

“You striked first, dummy.” You said, grinning. "I had to cover your ass."

"Touche.." He said, panting heavily as his tongue slipped out from his mouth.

Suddenly, spider silk was whipping past your ears. The ground sloped sharply, and your leather shoe caught on a rock. As he saw you, Jake lent you his strong arm, but the unstoppable momentum dragged you both down the embankment.

With a cushioned thump, you landed hard. On top of him.

His breath hitched. Your knee was wedged between his thighs, your hands braced on either side of his head. His face was inches from yours, flushed pink and speckled with dirt. For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to the hitch in his breath, the way his eyes flicked to your lips.

“I uhh… I-... Uh…” he stammered. He fucking did. Of course he did. Jake sighed in his own head.

You quickly rolled off him, ignoring the racing warmth that pooled in your chest. “They’re still coming. We need to—”

In a flash, a shining hue of blue cut through the gloom. Butterflies—dozens of them—danced in the air, their wings shimmering like fractured stained glass.

"Look!" You smiled, reaching candidly as you saw more of the flying critters. "Butterflies!"

Jake stared. “Are they safe?”

“Safer than the eight-legged dinner party behind us.”

Propping up gently from the ground, you stuck out your hand to help Jake. With your touch brushing upon his otherwise dirty palm, Jake's cheek glowed with a warm flush.

“Thanks.” he acknowledged you softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

As you followed the butterflies, a comfortable silence settled between you. The darkness of the forest faded, and the gentle glow of the butterflies illuminated your path. You felt a sense of calm as you walked side by side, the tension from the encounter with the Acromantulas slowly dissipating.

“You know,” Jake said, breaking the silence, “I’ve always thought the forest was kind of magical, even with all the creepy crawlies.”

You chuckled softly. “Well, it has its charm—especially when you’re not being chased by giant spiders.”

Jake’s expression shifted, and he looked at you with a hint of seriousness. “I mean it, though. I don’t think I’d want to be here with anyone else. You always know what to do. It’s like… you've always got everything under control.”

“Keeping you alive is my life motto.” you replied, a teasing smile on your lips. But deep down, his words warmed your heart. You appreciated the way he recognized your strengths, and it made you wonder if he saw you in a different light than just a friend.

The butterflies led you uphill, away from the clicking horde and the gloomy forest that had kept you entertained.

And for sure, he did. He really did. Awkwardly so but he does.

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚　

When you finally stumbled into open air, the view stole your breath.

Hogwarts Castle rose in the distance, its windows glittering like scattered stars. The Black Lake mirrored the sky, smooth and endless, and the valley below bloomed with wildflowers even in the dark. It was like standing inside a painting.

“It's already nighttime...” You stretched your limbs as you stood up, watching over all the marvels you could find with your naked eye. “The stars are really out tonight.”

Jake slumped against a boulder, clutching his side. “Merlin’s pants… I think I swallowed a spider.”

“Only one?” You sat beside him, close enough that your shoulders grazed at that moment.

He laughed weakly. The sound faded as he turned to you, his gaze lingering.

When was it that he was truly enamored by the sight of you? When you entered Hogwarts so late in your years that you had caught almost everyone's attention? When you won the Quidditch match and had him cheering for you no matter what? Or when you successfully defended the castle from the invasion of Goblins not long ago?

When was it that he started looking fondly at you, dreaming of seeing your face without ever feeling weird about it?

Seeing your lashes and how they flowed and complimented the shape of your eyes, Jake could never get used to how ethereal you looked when he saw you first thing in the morning.

The bridge and tip of your nose, inches finer and sharper every time he took an almost sinful gaze upon your natural beauty. It was always breathtaking, as you could imagine.

And even glancing down at your lips, and how red they were, Jake could never refuse to imagine his own lips caressing yours in an intimate way. It was just as if he wanted to melt on top of you right then and there.

He wanted to feel your warmth so badly, but who was he for you, for him to have the luxury of having those thoughts of you?

And who's to say you didn't notice it too? He surely wasn't slick with it, as much as he wanted to be.

You’d caught him staring before—in the library, during Quidditch matches, that time you’d rolled up your sleeves in Potions, and even how he stopped breathing at the sight of you being so close to him earlier in the Forbidden Forest—but never like this. Never so quiet.

The silence stretched. Jake’s eyes never really strayed away from your lips.

“What?” you said.

He jerked back. “Nothing! I—I wasn’t—I mean, your face is just… really…” He flailed, gesturing vaguely. “Symmetrical?”

You raised an eyebrow, looking straight into his eyes. Jake could feel your judgment, but also your inquisitiveness.

Sometimes, you were just too good at guessing what he thought. It was as if his body was made of glass, see-through and transparent in front of you.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, covering his face. “I’m… concussed.”

“You’re not concussed, Jake."

“I could be.”

You smirked, leaning back on your hands.

As you grew quiet, you continued to admire the place that surrounded you. The valley sprawled beneath you, beautiful and strange. Hogwarts felt like a dream you couldn't ever imagine living in.

Jake’s voice softened. “Thanks. For saving my arse back there.”

“Anytime.”

“Even if I’m… y’know.” He gestured to himself. “A mess.”

You glanced at him. His hair was full of leaves, his robes torn, but his smile—small and hopeful—made your chest tighten.

With the smallest step between you and Jake, you took care of the leaves stuck on his hair and ruffled it then. With yet more warmth than ever, Jake felt a rush of dopamine crawling up his spine.

“Especially then,” you said with a simple smile.

˚　　✦　　.　. 　 ˚　.　 . ★⋆.　　✦　.　　.　 ˚　.　　✦　˚ 　　 ˚　.˚　

When you finally crept back into the castle, Filch’s shouts echoing somewhere distant, Jake nudged you with his elbow.

“Same time next week?”

“Only if you bring better snacks.”

He grinned, bright as the sunrise. “Deal.”

A smile crept across your face as you thought of going out again.

Maybe, you'll let this play a bit longer. After all, it is pure fun to see Jake unravel minute by minute.

EN—D

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — aahhhh!! i really wanted to write enha in hogwarts for so long and now iget to actually write them! hopefully yall like ittttt~

my masterlist! | made by writhyv 💘

[gliphyartfan]

Diversity among hylians seems to be very low, so I ask you to please headcanons of the chain with a human reader who has vitiligo and maybee heterochromia. Please, please, that's all I need!

Ah, that’s true! Hylians, for all their magic and divine connections, lack a lot of the diversity that humans have. (Even if they have the funkiest hairstyles at times)

I guess at first, they don’t get it.

They’ve certainly never seen anything like it before.

The patches of lighter skin standing out against their natural tone? The two different colored eyes? It’s so far outside of normal Hylian traits that they’re just staring the first time they meet Reader.

Not in a bad way! They’re just so confused but the differences. (They adjust as they always do.)

Wind is the first to ask. (Zero filter after all)

Blunt as always he goes “Did you get cursed?”

(Cue Warriors smacking him upside the head.)

And Reader would laugh, though and reapond. “Nope. It’s just how I was born.”

Sky would be tilting his heads and say “Wait, it’s natural?”

Hyrule is quietly intrigued. (Half fae boy is kinda obsessed.)

He’d be like “So you were just… blessed with two different eye colors? And patterns on your skin?”

And Reader would be like “Blessed?” They’d snort. “I wouldn’t call it that.”

But Hyrule would.

(He probably ends up fully convinced that Readwr is some sort of celestial being that’s just pretending to be human.)

Twilight (when everyone is way more comfortable with each other) actually reaches out to touch your skin. (With permission, of course.)

The difference in texture is interesting to him. It’s not really different from the rest of Reader’s skin, but the contrast is so mesmerizing.

“Does it… change?”

“Sometimes,” They’d shrug. “Spreads a little, but nothing crazy.”

Twilight wouod be so fascinated. His own markings only appeared when he used the Shadow Crystal, so seeing someone with permanent ones they were born with is something else.

Sky thinks they’re literally kissed by the heavens.

No, really.

He genuinely believes that their skin is like clouds drifting across the sky.

He gets so poetic about it, too. “It’s like the sky at dawn… patches of light breaking through the darkness.”

Legend: “You’re making it weird.”

Sky: “I’m appreciating the beauty of nature, shut up.” (Which I personally wouod find funny)

As for heterochromia I thiiiink, Warriors and Legend notice it first.

Warriors, because he’s trained to pick up details.

Legend, because he’s just perceptive as hell. (Not that the others arent but I think everyone is heavily distracted by the vitiligo.)

Legend would go “Wait, were your eyes always different colors?”

“Uh. Yeah?”

Cue them both narrowing their eyes like they’re trying to figure out if Reader’s messing with them.

Wind and Wild immediately love it.

“Whoa! That’s so cool!”

“Can you see differently out of each eye?”

“Do things look different?”

(Reader has to physically stop them from shining a lantern in your face to ‘check.’)

Time kinda thinks it’s an omen.

…Not in a bad way, necessarily, but in the way that his gut tells him you’re important.

Like… by that point Reader was already significant to them, but this just adds to it.

He’s seen plenty of strange things in his time, but a mortal with two different eyes? That’s has to mean something ya know?

Four is intrigued from a more analytical standpoint.

Four: “So, you were born with this?”

Reader: “Yep.”

Four: “It doesn’t affect your vision?”

Reader: “Nope.”

Four: “Fascinating.”

(He will absolutely study their eyes in different lighting, making notes to compare them.)

All in all, they adore it. (And it is inevitable that creeps and weirdos will try to nab such a unique beauty when they go era hopping so it ends up with them being a biiit over protective with Reader. But hey! Stories to tell friends over drinks eh?)

[covenofagatha]

A dance with death (and her wife) (Part 7)

Answers to your past are revealed

Word count: 5500

Warnings: oral, fingering, and of course, more murder

You’re nine, almost ten, when your family moves to Salem, Massachusetts for your dad’s job. You don't quite know exactly what he does, but it doesn’t matter. 

What does matter is that you get to pick your own room in the four-bedroom colonial on the cul-de-sac three blocks from your new school. You choose the bigger of the two bedrooms upstairs and the long windows overlook the woods in your backyard. Your younger brother complains since he only gets the smaller room with a view of the neighbor’s house, but your mom laughs and tells him that since you’re older, you get first pick. 

Everything is perfect there. You like your new school, and like the new friends you made. You come home everyday and sing karaoke after dinner, putting on a show for your family, and they clap and cheer and tell you that they can’t wait to see you on Broadway someday. 

One day in fourth grade, you learn about witches in Social Studies. Women were burned at the stake right there in Salem because men feared them and what they were capable of. Your best friend leans over and whispers, “You know there’s still witches here, right? They live in the woods.” 

This piqued your interest more than you thought it would; there is something fascinating about a woman with power. While you don’t believe in witches or magic, you want to know what that is like, to be capable of doing something great, something more than just your boring life as a fourth grader. And while there obviously aren't witches in the woods, your curiosity gets the better of you.

So you pack a bag of snacks and capri-suns and set out into the woods behind your house. You know your parents would be mad if you told them, so you don’t. You’d be back before it was even dark out, and you had turned ten a few months ago at that point. Plenty grown up enough to go alone. 

It’s only about five minutes in when you start panicking. Snow is starting to fall, a light cover on the forest floor, and you are possibly a little lost. The trees seem to be getting thicker and a branch scratches your leg through your pants. It tears the fabric and there is a bloody gash. 

Your mom is going to be so mad that you ripped them.

You should probably get home now. 

The only problem is that you don’t know which way home is, having been disoriented by the scratch to your shin. And there isn’t enough snow to see your footprints yet. So you pick a random direction, hopefully the one you just came from, and start walking. 

It is not the right way, as you only seem to be going more into the thicket. 

You’re scared, starting to freak out, when you come across a frozen creek. You bend down and stare into your reflection, meeting your eyes while you take deep breaths to slow your racing heart. 

And then you hear a sound and you lurch back, falling onto the mud on the bank. It gets on your clothes and you know your mom is going to be even more mad now. Not only did you tear your pants, you now have wet dirt all over them and your jacket.

The sound comes back, only this time, you’re able to figure out what it is. 

Laughter. 

Someone is laughing in the woods. Who is it? 

Terror grips your heart. Are there really witches here? You know you should turn back around, go anywhere other than toward the sound, but you’ve come this far. 

You stand up and brush your messy hands on your jacket and you follow the noise through more trees, and you’re convinced you must be going the wrong way until you come into a clearing. It’s in the shape of a large circle and you wonder if there used to be more nature here. 

Stepping forward, you feel incredibly vulnerable without the protection of all the trees around you and snow crunches underneath your boots. The laughter has stopped, and you scan the tree line to look for where it may have been coming from. 

More snow starts to fall and you wrap your jacket tighter around you, shivering. You’re about to leave when you see what looks like the outline of a person tucked away between a few trees on the other side of the clearing. 

It’s like you’re being pulled towards them by an invisible line. As if in a trance, you start walking in their direction and a stick cracks under your foot, sending red birds fluttering from the branches. 

The person hears it too, and they turn around. It’s a woman with long dark hair and blue eyes that seem to glow, and she smiles at you, reaching a hand out to beckon you closer. 

Your mom’s warning of Don’t talk to strangers! echoes in your mind, but you push it away and keep moving forward. 

She’s with two other women, one with dark hair to her shoulders and brown eyes, and the other with gray hair and greenish-bluish eyes. The gray-haired lady looks mad and her face reminds you of a crow. She’s standing against a tree, her feet in the middle of a big pile of wood. 

“What’s a young girl like you doing out here in the forest?” The brunette with blue eyes asks, but you’re too busy peering at the older lady. Her hands are behind her back and seemingly wrapped around the tree. 

“Little girl, you need to run and get help,” the gray-haired lady barks and you flinch at the roughness in her voice. “They’re going to kill me!” 

Is she tied to the tree?

Your brows crinkle and the other woman, the one who hasn’t spoken yet, chuckles and waves her off. “Don’t listen to Evanora, doll. Why don’t you come walk with Agatha and I and we can help you figure out where you need to be right now.” 

The blue-eyed woman – Agatha – smiles in agreement and puts an arm around you to lead you away, deeper into the woods. You can still hear Evanora shouting faintly but you try to ignore it. 

“Why don’t you tell us your name, sweetheart?” Agatha asks and you tell them. They both nod. “Well I’m Agatha, and this is Rio.” 

“Are you guys witches?” You ask and they both give you amused looks. 

Rio kneels down so she’s eye-level with you. “Why would you think that, doll?” She’s studying your face curiously. 

You shrug. “My friend told me there were witches in the woods. And then I found you.” 

“Sorry to disappoint, honey, but we’re not witches,” Agatha laughs. “We were just camping.” 

It makes you frown. “Then who’s that woman?” 

Rio glances up at Agatha and then back to you. “Evanora is…not a very nice person. But you don’t have to worry about that at all. Do you live around here?” 

“Yeah, at the edge of the woods. I got a little lost, though,” you say sadly and they look very sympathetic. 

“Well, why don’t we help you get back? We know these woods very well, we can have you back before supper,” Agatha offers. 

But you’re not ready to go back just yet. “Why can’t I stay here a little longer with you guys? Can you show me the woods?” You look at them hopefully, sticking out your bottom lip and giving them the best puppy-dog eyes you can, and Rio chuckles before standing up and holding out a hand to you. 

“Why don’t I show you my favorite spot?” She says and you nod eagerly. You notice Agatha giving her a strange look but she follows the two of you. 

“So, Y/N, why don’t you tell us a little about yourself?” Agatha asks. 

You beam up at her, happy she’s coming along. “I’m in fourth grade. I have a younger brother who’s in first. We don’t have any pets, even though I’ve been begging my dad for a dog. And I’m going to be famous when I grow up!” 

They both gasp. “Famous!” Agatha exclaims. “I didn’t realize we were in the presence of a future celebrity. Rio, remind me to get our little superstar’s autograph before taking her back home.”  

You giggle at the name and they both smile fondly down at you before leading you on. It’s only a bit more before Rio stops and points. “See right there, doll?” 

A gasp leaves your throat. It’s absolutely beautiful. In the middle of the trees, there’s a field of the prettiest purple flowers you’ve ever seen. You drop Rio’s hand and go wander into it, breathing in the honeysuckle scent. 

“What kind of flowers are they?” You ask absentmindedly, brushing your hand over the stop of them. Even in the winter, they are still growing strong. 

“Azaleas,” Rio tells you and you repeat it. 

You pick two and walk back over to them, offering them each a flower. Then you ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind. “Are you going to kill Evanora?” 

Agatha does a double-take and Rio’s hand tightens around the flower stem. “Of course not, superstar,” Agatha assures you, but you’re not convinced. 

“She said you were going to,” you insist. “It looked like she was tied to the tree and she’s standing in a lot of wood. Are you going to burn her? That’s what they did to witches, you know. Is she a witch?” 

Rio snorts. “More like a bitch,” she mutters under her breath and Agatha shoots her a glare. 

“That’s a bad word,” you state matter-of-factly and she smirks. 

Agatha gets down so she can hold onto your shoulders. “Evanora is a very evil lady. She’s tried to hurt me many times.” 

You hold onto her gaze. “Maybe she deserves it then.” Agatha sharply inhales and Rio cackles like it’s the funniest thing ever. 

“What?” Agatha asks, regarding you cautiously, scanning your face like she’s looking for something. 

You shrug. It makes sense to you. “Have you ever killed someone before?” 

“I like you, doll,” Rio says, reaching over to pat you on the head. Agatha gives her a weary look. 

 “She’s a kid, Rio,” Agatha reminds her. “We should really be getting you back home. Come on.” 

You walk behind them as they follow your footsteps, winding you back through the woods until you’re back to where Evanora is. You can see her hands struggling with the rope around her wrist, struggling to get it off. 

Why can you not stop thinking about it? About what it would feel like to watch her die? 

You don’t know why, but you know you’re not ready to leave just yet. So you dig your heels into the snow and stop moving. Evanora starts wailing, trying to get your attention, but you fix your stare on the other women. 

Agatha and Rio keep walking a few more paces until they finally realize you’re not behind them. 

“Y/N, let’s go,” Agatha says sternly but you stay rooted. Rio whispers something to her and they begin a heated discussion about what they should do with you. 

But you drone them out, looking around their campsite. You can feel something calling to you almost, something in Agatha’s backpack. You bend down and pull out a matchbook. 

Your breath stutters in your lungs and you’re in a daze when you turn back around to see Evanora. 

“Little girl, put those down and help untie me,” she hisses. “We need to get away from my abomination of a daughter and her friend.” You don’t know why she says it like that, not sure if there’s an underlying meaning to her words, but nothing feels real when you take out a match. 

A hush falls over the woods and you glance back to find Agatha and Rio watching you with wide eyes, waiting for your next move. 

Time slows down when you strike it against the box and the heat from the flame, while small, warms your face. 

It's a morbid curiosity, you tell yourself, that’s filling your head right now. You just want to see what happens. 

Evanora isn’t making sense now, babbling on and pleading and blubbering, but there’s a vibration in your ears that drowns her out. 

Is this what it feels like, to have power? To be capable of something greater, for people to know it? 

Except you’re not the one about to be burned. 

Your arm reaches out and your fingers open and the match drops out, falling to the wood as if in slow motion, and a brilliant blaze of fire erupts. 

You gasp – what have you done? Why would you do that? 

She’s going to die. Panic fills your lungs – or is that smoke? – and you rush forward and try to help her but someone yanks you back by the shoulders. 

“You’ll get burned!” Agatha yells in your ear over Evanora’s horrific screams. You struggle against her, needing to break free, needing to do something. 

“Agatha, we need to go!” Rio shouts and you tear out of Agatha’s arms and start running in the other direction. Maybe if you go fast enough, you can run back in time and undo it. 

Why would you do that? 

You round a tree too fast and slip on the ice, tumbling down to the ground. Your head smashes against a rock with a loud crack and you instantly black out.

When you wake up, you’re in a hospital room with your mom and dad asleep in chairs next to your bed. You stir and attempt to sit up, but your entire body aches and machines start beeping as your heart starts to race. 

Your parents jump up and your mom breaks into a sob, your dad embracing her tightly. 

“What’s–” You try to ask what’s going on, what’s happening, where are you, but your throat is dry. 

Your dad calls for a doctor and two men in white lab coats rush in. 

“Y/N, do you remember what happened?” One of them asks and you strain your brain but a sharp pain bolts through your head and you clap your hand to it. 

All you can do is shake your head no. 

The doctors look grimly at your parents. “We knew this was a possibility. A traumatic brain injury like this can cause amnesia, especially regarding the events right before the accident. She might never remember, and it might take a few days for her memory to get back to normal. There’s a chance she might not even know she was in the hospital. Don’t be surprised if there’s a bit of a personality change too.” 

A fresh wave of tears fall from your mom’s eyes but she clasps your cheeks and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Our baby is okay, though. That’s all that matters.” 

 And there were no indistinguishable differences in your personality from before the accident to after, except for one thing. 

You now want, more than anything, to understand how murderers’ minds work.

~~~

Agatha and Rio had thought you were dead up until three years ago. 

They had followed you after you had lit the match and watched as you fell and hit your head, quickly rushing over to you. 

Your breaths were faint and they had grunted as they carried you almost all the way out of the woods, positioning you on the ground next to the bloody rock on the edge. Surely it wouldn’t be too long before someone saw you, even if you had already died. 

And then they booked it out of Salem, into Westview, New Jersey, where they set up their new life, getting married a year later. 

The topic of you killing Agatha’s mother quickly became something the two of them stopped talking about, and it was like it had never happened. 

Agatha became a detective and Rio became a therapist, and all was well. 

Until one morning, about twelve years later, when Agatha is reading the newspaper in the kitchen and sees an article about a serial killer getting caught down in Miami, Florida. 

She hums and Rio looks up from her coffee. “What?” 

Agatha flips the paper and points. “Have you heard of the Scarlet Killer?” 

“A little bit,” Rio shrugs, leaning forward. “Apparently she was kidnapping kids and killing the parents or something. One of my patients with triplets was so paranoid that she was the next victim, despite living a thousand miles away. Convinced the killer was going to come all the way up here just for her.” 

Agatha snorts. “She was just caught. But look at the part about the profiler who caught her. And the picture.” 

Rio’s eyes drop and scan the part toward the bottom. Her brows furrow and she looks up and meets Agatha’s gaze. “This can’t be her, can it?” 

But the name is the same, the face, albeit older, is the same. 

Agatha uses her resources at the police station to look you up and they find the story of your life, everything that’s happened since that fateful day in the clearing. Her and Rio pour over it and Agatha can’t help but feel proud of everything you’ve done. 

The medical record from the hospital they get a hold of from Salem is hard to get, it takes Agatha calling in many favors, but it’s worth it because now they know that you don’t remember. 

A year and a half passes and they follow all your cases. Rio is fascinated by the way your brain works, putting things together and figuring things out. You have a knack for the female serial killers it seems, and a question lingers in both their minds. 

It isn’t until they’re laying in bed one right that Rio dares to ask it. “Do you think it’s because of us?” 

Agatha shrugs. “Maybe there was something else.” 

“You think she came across two other people planning on killing a woman in the woods and then she stole their thunder?” Rio says and Agatha laughs. 

“She stole our thunder?” Agatha teases and Rio lightly jabs her in the stomach. 

Rio softly strokes the skin on Agatha’s hand. “Yeah, I kind of wanted to be the one to do it after everything she put you through.” 

Agatha softens. Death had been a part of her life ever since she was a girl and her mom had found out that she liked girls. Evanora was the town’s pastor, and that simply would not do. The girls Agatha had a fling with always turned up missing or dead, and there were far too many times Agatha had almost been accidentally killed for it to be a coincidence. 

Everyone stayed away from her except for Rio. Rio wasn’t afraid, Rio was willing to kill for her. 

Had the two of them killed people before? Yes. They can still remember you asking them that. They liked the thrill, got off on it even, but they hadn’t done it since they’d met you. 

“Well, I’m very sorry I don’t have another mother for you to kill,” Agatha jokes and Rio leans in to kiss her. 

“I would, you know,” Rio says seriously and Agatha laughs at the ridiculousness of the conversation. 

And then she thinks back to the photos of you in your FBI jacket and how much you’ve matured. Your mind is brilliant, but you’ve become ever the attractive thing. “She’s grown into quite the young woman,” Agatha muses and Rio pulls back, a glint in her eyes. 

“She certainly has,” Rio agrees, going in for another kiss, a deeper kiss. Agatha moans when her wife bites her lip. “What if we…“ 

Agatha raises an eyebrow when Rio trails off. “What?” Her voice is barely above a whisper, already knowing what she’s going to suggest. 

It’s crazy. 

It’s a spur of the moment, impulsive thing to say. 

“Female serial killers are her thing,” Rio begins, her fingers trailing down Agatha’s stomach. She skates under the oversized tee she’s wearing and Agatha shivers. “One of the best in the FBI. If there were to be, say, two female serial killers here in Westview, don’t you think they’d send her?” 

Agatha gasps when Rio cups her over her underwear. Her wife moves her fingers roughly, rubbing her clit through the fabric, and Agatha can feel herself growing wet. 

“You want her to catch us?” Agatha asks, voice breaking off into a groan. Rio snickers as she pushes her panties to the side and draws lazy circles over her pussy. 

She shakes her head. “Not catch us. We know her, know what she’s capable of. We can bring that out in her again.” 

Agatha moans when Rio pushes a finger inside her. Her hips roll slowly, matching Rio’s thrusts. “You want to make her into a murderer?” 

“Like you don’t want to corrupt her? Look at her, how delicious she is. She’s our own case study. We’ve never met anyone like her,” Rio says, entranced and speech unburdened, like she didn’t just slip a second finger into her wife. 

“You’re such a therapist. And so horny,” Agatha huffs out, her own hand reaching down to rub her clit while Rio speeds up her thrusts. Her walls are clenching and she feels a building low in her gut, tingles spreading through her body. 

Rio ducks down to suck on Agatha’s neck and the older woman keens underneath her. “Think about it, Aggs. We draw her here. We get a little taste of our superstar, both mentally and physically. She’s fucking brilliant, and so fucking hot.” 

Agatha’s mind betrays her and she pictures you on your knees for her, holding your hair back in a ponytail so she can get a clearer look at you. You’re twenty-two years old now, half Rio’s age and over half Agatha’s age, too young, but there’s something about the darkness that she knows is inside you that calls to her, entices her. 

“She’d be such a good pet for us,” Agatha gasps, giving into the fantasy. Rio curls her fingers and scissors them and twists them and Agatha is reduced to a panting mess on the bed, hips furiously grinding up. She’s so close. “Rio.” 

And her wife always knows what she needs. “Just picture her, Aggie. Picture the three of us in bed, her fucking you and me fucking her and then vice versa. Her tongue inside your pussy and then your fingers inside hers. God, I bet she tastes so good.” 

Agatha’s back arches off the bed at the image and she cums all over Rio’s fingers, frantically rubbing her own clit to draw out the pleasure. 

When she comes down from an intense high, the two of them start planning. 

It becomes apparent quickly that they’re rusty in the whole murder game. But they just need some practice. 

Agatha and Rio can’t do it in Westview though, can’t bring you here too soon before they’re ready. 

So they drive to different states. Staying in New Jersey is still a bit of a risk. But it doesn’t take them that long to find their groove. 

It can’t just be a regular, basic crime scene with a gunshot or a knife or something. It needs to be art, a performance, something that gets you here. 

So they figure out their M.O.. Rio was always excellent with a knife, and Agatha, whose father was a chemist, is able to whip up some mixtures that create exactly the look they’re going for. 

It’s gruesome and unnecessary and perhaps over the top, but they’re going to desperate measures to make sure they get what they want. 

And oh god, do they want you now. You’ve become an obsession to them, sinking your claws into their minds and leaving them to think of little else. 

They won’t make it easy for you, no. They’ll confuse the witnesses and Rio will wear a mask and there will be no trace left behind, but they’re confident that you will crack it. 

Plus, they’re more than willing to give you a guiding hand. 

The first time they strike, it goes almost too perfectly. They choose a random person, a woman who lives alone. The poison achieves exactly the desired effect and the bleach and hydrogen peroxide completely gets rid of all the blood after Rio cuts out her heart. 

The purple azalea was Rio’s idea, a small thing meant to jog your memory. They both didn’t have a clue if it would work, but they wanted to see. 

“What should I do with this?” Rio asks, holding up the organ, and there is something about her disheveled hair, rolled up sleeves, and bloody hands that just really gets to Agatha. 

She has her wife pushed against the wall and Agatha sinks down to her knees, quickly unbuttoning her pants and shoving them down before Rio can say anything else. She mouths at her through her underwear and moans at the musky scent and how she can suck the wetness out of the fabric because of how soaked Rio is. Agatha can already feel her throbbing. 

Their plan is going to do wonders for their sex life. 

Agatha nips at Rio’s pale skin, bites her hip, and drags her panties off with her teeth and Rio’s head falls back at the sight. 

“Agatha, fuck,” Rio breathes, the hand not holding the heart coming down to tangle into her hair. She wildly looks around for somewhere to put it and decides to place it gently on the bookshelf. 

The older woman’s tongue delves through her folds and Rio makes a strangled sound, widening her stance so Agatha can get better access. Her nose bumps against Rio’s clit and continues to move against her as Agatha shoves her tongue inside her entrance and devours her, licking up and curling it only the way she can. Her nails dig into Rio’s thighs, knowing the younger woman likes a little bit of pain, and Rio’s fingers tighten in Agatha’s long hair, holding her there. 

It’s a bit hard for Rio to ride her face, so she settles for rutting her hips against Agatha, each bump from her nose and each stroke from her tongue only making her closer. 

Rio moans her wife’s name again and Agatha rubs her glistening face against her inner thighs, spreading Rio’s wetness all over her skin before sucking her clit into her mouth and scraping her teeth against it. 

That’s all it takes and Rio cums faster than she ever has, all over Agatha’s face. 

The sex becomes part of the process. Who knew murder would be such an aphrodisiac? But it’s more than the killing, it’s the thought that they’re one step closer to getting you. 

Their prize. 

Chief Jones brings in profilers from around the area but the bodies keep piling up and there’s no other choice but to call the FBI and Agatha gets wind that they’re sending in a profiler from the Miami branch, one who specializes in female serial killers. 

Their plan works perfectly. 

And you killing people in your sleep is just a pleasant surprise. 

~~~

“What happens now?” You ask when Rio and Agatha finally break the hug that you’ve been standing in for what seems like hours. You immediately miss their warmth. 

The two of them look at each other. “We leave,” Rio says. “We pack up all our stuff and hit the road and never look back.” 

The plan makes you pause. “I can’t do that though, I’m in the FBI, I can’t just disappear off the grid.” 

“Why not?” Agatha asks seriously. She raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re perfect for us, superstar.” 

You’ve fucked up. You’ve fucked up big time. While you have the answers you’ve been searching for, you now wish you didn’t. 

It was you. Somewhere, subconsciously, in your brain, you had wanted to understand why you had dropped the match that day and killed Evanora. A random woman, for no reason other than because you wanted to. 

Is the answer because you’re just a killer? 

No. That can’t be it. You refuse to accept it, because you’ve helped people, you’ve solved cases, you’ve caught the bad guys. You’re good. You can be good. 

But Agatha and Rio are standing here like you’re everything you’ve ever wanted, murder and all. 

It’s tempting. 

You can’t. But you want to. But you can’t. 

And then you remember that Tony should be getting into Westview right about now. Fuck. What are you supposed to do about him? 

You can’t go back to Miami right now, so what other choice do you have? You nod your head slowly. “Okay. I just need to pack up my stuff.” 

“You mean the stuff that we gave you?” Rio asks wolfishly. “Let’s go. We’ll drive.” 

“I stole your car and it’s parked out front next to Agatha’s,” you remember and they chuckle. 

Rio invades your space and reaches into your pockets, fishing around in them, and her proximity makes heat flood through you again. She winks at you when she grabs her keys and you blush. 

“Let’s go then,” Agatha says, pulling you out the door and leading you to her car while Rio gets into hers. 

The drive is quiet and you play with the lock until Agatha swats your elbow. It’s an uncomfortable silence to say the least, but you’re not sure exactly what to say. 

She apparently doesn’t either. 

Thankfully, it’s a short drive. 

They follow you into your room and you kick aside the azaleas so you can walk back and forth easier between the bedroom and the living room to throw all your stuff into your suitcase. They go through the room like they haven’t already been in here multiple times. 

“Thanks for her, by the way,” you say sarcastically, pointing to the dead body that’s still on your bed. 

Rio snorts. “Agatha has a wicked jealous streak,” she says and Agatha throws a flower at her. 

You’re almost completely packed and ready to go, feeling confident about your decision for the first time, when there’s a knock on the door. You freeze and Agatha and Rio look at you. 

“Y/N, open up! It’s Tony,” he calls from outside and you think your heart is going to explode. The air in the room has changed and you can feel their suspicions. 

You look around for anywhere to hide them and then hiss at them to get in the bedroom. You had hoped you’d have more time before he got here. They squint at you, trying to figure out your game, but go in anyway.

The second the bedroom door closes, you let him in and his jaw drops. 

“What happened in here?” He asks, taking in your suitcase and the flowers. What are you supposed to say? I’m skipping town with the serial killers and I just had sex with them and also I killed someone when I was ten years old and I’ve been murdering people in my sleep? 

You don’t think that would go over well. So you decide to tell him a version of the truth. “The killers were here,” you say, your mouth suddenly so dry. “They’ve been taunting me, messing with my head.” All not a lie. 

“I don’t care. We’re leaving. Get your stuff,” he orders and it’s clear you don’t have a choice. 

You wonder if they’re listening to you. “Tony, please,” you say. “I can’t leave yet.” 

He throws his hands up in the air. “And why the fuck not?” 

“Because I know who they are,” you tell him, your voice dropping to a whisper in hopes that Agatha and Rio won’t be able to hear you. “I can get them. Please, just give me more time.” 

He paces around, hands over his forehead like he can’t even stand to look at you. “You’re certain you can get them?” 

“Yes!” You insist, leaving out the part about them being in the room next to you. You chant It’s not real in your head over and over again, like they’ll be able to read your mind. You just need him out of here and then you’ll go with them. 

But then you hear a crash, the sound of glass breaking, coming from your bedroom and your heart drops. Tony rushes past you and throws open the door and –

“What the fuck!” He shouts and you dart after to explain why you have two women, two serial killers, in your bedroom, but they’re not there. Tony is talking about the dead woman on your bed. 

Your head starts to spin as you take in the window that has been smashed with the chair and you look out it, desperate for a sign of them. 

But there’s nothing. 

Agatha and Rio are gone.