#this is only her first encounter with him she sees him again later

[piece-of-pierce]

Danny’s certain that, at this point, he’s tried using almost every abandoned building in the city as a base of operations. This is possibly the longest he’s ever been stuck in another dimension, except for the first time (and the Stone Age dimension), and he’s getting sick of it. If these costumed weirdos stop him one more time, he might have to start fighting back!

Two days later, he officially goes on the offensive. There’s just enough latent ecto in the city for him to maintain invisibility and intangibility, so he can avoid being spotted on any cameras or imaging tech (that he’s encountered so far.) So, he does the only thing he can think of.

He looks for a place the costume kids (and man) won’t be able to reach him. Literally. Are there any buildings with big enough gaps between the walls? No, nope, nada, nice try, didn’t mean to see that, no, no, no again, maybe?… also no, oooh. One of the issues was how loud his tinkering could be. If he was surrounded by moving gears and cogs like, say, in a clock tower, maybe that could work. It’s flashier than he likes, but he’s running out of options here!

Danny slipped through the clock face, purposefully flying further in to get past the gears that… weren’t there? Why didn’t he go through more stuff? Was this a whole-ass room? Danny let his feet touch down, staying invisible as he slowly took in the space. Did someone else beat him to it?

As soon as he saw something bright and electric, a computer screen?, a blur of and black and yellow filled his vision. Then, everything went dark.

-=o0o=-

Barbara turned her chair when Black Bat darted back, just in time to watch the younger woman throw a careful hit at… nothing?

No. The hit landed and, moments later, Barbara heard a thump and saw a young man lying on the ground where, apparently, he’d been invisible.

“Steps,” Black Bat answered the silent question. She’d heard him. “Assassin,” she said, pointing at his face.

Barbara wheeled closer to get a view and, just as Cass said, this was the LoA member who’d been giving them trouble for over a month. No wonder he’d been so annoying. They’d been operating on the assumption that the LoA didn’t allow Metas.

“Tie him up and make sure he’s out. I’ll call B.”

-=o0o=-

Danny’s head was killing him! Ancients! Did Skulker body-slam him or something? Danny opened his eyes and remembered that, no, Skulker couldn’t body slam him from another dimension. Damn. Those were a good few seconds where he though he was home.

Looking at the empty, concrete block he was in, this was definitely not home. Maybe it could look like his parents’ lab, if the concrete was replaced with metal and the room was full of shelves and tables and various experiments. Man, if only it was the lab. Then there’s be a portal he could use.

Or, well, he could use it if he wasn’t tied to this metal chair, which, man, there was like no give on these restraints. Was the chair welded to the ground, too? Okay, the ground was metal, at least, so that’s one thing that made this more like the lab.

Before Danny could weigh the pros and cons of slipping out of the ropes (the many, many ropes, holy shit), heavy footsteps approached him from behind. He twisted his head enough to watch a man nearly his dad’s size wearing a black costume with a cape and horned hood walk in and stop in front of where Danny sat.

It was the man. The leader of the weirdos.

“Doth thee und'rstand me?” His words may have been something Mr. Lancer probably had wet dreams about, but the guy had a Brooklyn(?) accent. Definitely east coast. It’s in that area. Either way, he sounded kinda stupid.

“Doth you have to be so formal? This isn’t exactly a black tie event. At least, I hope that’s not what you wear to funerals.”

“Thee shall answ'r mine own questions without query. Und'rstood?” Ohhh, was this an interrogation?

“Yeah, sure.” Danny could answer questions. At least the weirdo had finally gotten to the second half of ‘punch first, ask questions later.’

“Thee shall answ'r mine own questions truthfully. Any attempts at dishonesty 'r misdirection shall beest did recognize. Doth thee und'rstand?”

“Geez, yeah, I get it. You’ll punch me if I lie.”

“Do thee w'rk f'r the League of Assassins?”

“No?” The man growled, which, rude, living people didn’t usually do that. “No, I’ve never even heard of them.”

“Thee speak their tongue.”

“Do I?” Danny considered some of his other inter dimensional travels. “Ohhhh, shit. No, dude, I’m not a member of whoever that is. I learned the language somewhere else.”

“Their dialect is exclusive to their 'rganization. Doth not speak falsehoods to me again.”

“I’m not lying. I-“ Danny was promptly interrupted by a punch in the back of his head, immediately followed by someone grabbing his hair from behind and something sharp pressing against his throat.

“Traitor!”

“Woah! Ow! Hey! This has to be a misunderstanding! Is that a knife?!” Danny was very, very close to exposing his intangibility, chance to communicate be damned.

“Thee speak mine own mother’s tongue yet claimeth not to beest in league with h'r! Thee claimeth not to beest one of h'r owneth! One of mine owneth! Thee art a coystrill and a coward and thee shall beest punished as such!”

“I only understood, like, half of that. Please don’t slit my throat. I kinda like breathing.” Speaking of breathing, Danny was doing a lot more of it. Was he hyperventilating?

The man spoke to whoever was behind Danny in their language, gibberish with a Jersey(?) accent. The knife-holder responded in the same language, but his accent was notably different than the man’s. He must not have grown up around here. Danny couldn’t quite place it, though. It was maybe a bit southern? Or kinda pirate-ish?

The knife pulled away, the hand in his hair doing the same, and a young boy stepped out from behind Danny to stand next to the man.

“Seriously? I was being threatened by a middle schooler? He’s like, 12.”

“12?! I am good now 15 ages!”

“Seriously? You’re only two years younger then me? But you’re such a twerp.”

The man quickly grabbed the twerp by the back of his neck, scruffing him like a kitten before talking to Danny again. “What doth thee wisheth to accomplisheth h're?”

“Uh, I wanna leave? I’ve just been trying to go home, man.” Man scowled. Twerp clicked his tongue. “I’m serious! I- look, I don’t usually tell people this part but nobody’s actually managed to kidnap and interrogate me, so we’re just gonna stay on the crazy train! I’m from another dimension. I’ve been trying to build a portal home but you,” Danny pointed at the pair, “keep messing up all my hard work and getting in my way.”

Danny saw the man’s eyes squint a little, but was quickly distracted by the twerp snapping at his hand. Oh, shit, right, he’s supposed to be restrained.

“Uh… sorry? I’m not a big fan of the whole tangible thing.”

“Another… dimension?” The man was still holding back the twerp, sounding out the word ‘dimension’ like he didn’t understand it. Actually, considering this obviously isn’t his first language and they talk like long-dead people, he might not.

“Yeah, or a… another timeline? Universe? Reality?” Ooh, there’s some recognition! “Another reality! Another world! Another Earth! I’m not speaking assassin, I’m speaking my English. I only want to go home.”

The man and twerp muttered to each other in their own tongue for a minute, leaving Danny to rest his elbows on his knees. He’d already exposed this power, he might as well sit more comfortably.

“How didst thee locateth the Oracle?”

“You’re gonna have to give me more on that. I don’t know of any oracle. Is that a thing? Did I steal it?”

“Our inf'rmant.”

“Informant?” What on earth..? “Oh, the giant computer? In the clock tower!” The man grunted. It wasn’t a growl, so Danny was probably right. “That was a total accident. I was looking for a new place to build my portal. Nobody would notice me building if I’m in a clock that covers the sound, right?”

“So thy only goal is to buildeth a transporter and wend home?”

“Yes! See, we could’ve done this a month ago, but you wanted to punch first, ask questions later.” Danny leaned back with a grin.

The man and twerp looked at each other for a moment. “Couldst thee maketh a blueprint of thy machine?”

“Make one? Buddy, I’ve got one!” Danny reached into his chest and pulled out the water-proof bag he kept tucked under his left lung. What, he didn’t need to breathe as much anyway, he was fine losing a little air capacity! Danny opened the bag and pulled out the usb that said ‘c.o.d’ on it. “This bad boy has the full, detailed explanation of how to make the portal and what it’s supposed to do. It even has substitutions in case I end up somewhere that doesn’t have necessary components! I once managed to get home from the Stone Age.” He passed over the usb, happy to let the man take it. That was one of 10 copies, 3 more of which were stored in his body at that moment, so it wasn’t too much of a loss. It was also the easiest to get out. Usb number 3 would hopefully never be needed.

Danny stuffed the bag back in his chest, using two hands this time so he could lodge it in their properly. “If you’re willing to help me with that so I’ll finally be out of your hair, I’d be real grateful. You owe me, anyway, you destroyed like 20 attempts.”

The man and twerp studied the usb and Danny, respectively, before the twerp took the usb and left. The man stared at Danny, somehow less imposing on his own. “Thee stayeth h're. We shall returneth.” With that, he walked out the metal door that Danny could now turn his body to look at. There was also a mirror next to the door, so it had to be a classic interrogation room with a one-way mirror, right?

Danny wondered who was on the other side.

Whatever, he could hang out in the concrete box a little more. At least they stopped trying to punch him!

Step 1: Get stuck in another dimension. Step 2: build a portal back to the Ghost Zone. Step 3: Leave.

Danny's got it down to a science at this point. It barely takes him a week to get back home. (Except for the time the dimension he landed in was in the stone age, but we don't talk about that.)

Step 1 was easy enough, if involuntary. Now, step 2 is where it's all going wrong.

This dimension's language isn't one he speaks. That's fine, maybe adds a day or two to the search for parts, but the main problem is the people dressed in Halloween costumes, speaking like they're from a Shakespearean play who always find him and wreck his portal.

And it's not like he can just move to a different city, this one's soaked in ectoplasm. He'd have to spend a pretty fair amount of time searching for another place as saturated as this one.

Meanwhile, the Bats are not having a good time. Some League or League-adjacent member speaking a barely intelligible form of the League dialect keeps attempting to build some sort of weapon in Gotham, and refuses all communication in English.

(AKA: Danny is stuck in another dimension where his English is their League dialect. He just wants to go home now, please.)

[ficreadergirl]

*The week dragged on for Jason, the taste of the mysterious vigilante's kiss lingering on his lips, the feel of her body pressed against his a haunting memory that refused to fade. He patrolled the streets with a newfound vigour, his eyes peeled for any sign of the crimson figure that had left him breathless in the alleyway.*

Jason: Keep your eyes peeled, Hood. *he murmurs to himself, the cold winter air carrying his words away* You're not getting away from me that easily.

*As he rounds the corner, the sound of a struggle reaches his ears. He quickens his pace, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and anticipation.*

Jason: Looks like someone's been naughty again. *says, a smirk playing on his lips as he approaches the scene.*

Y/n: *She's got a thief pinned to the ground, her staff pressing into his back, a smirk on her lips as she glances up to see Jason approach.* And look who's here to play Santa's little helper.

Jason: You know I hate that outfit. *grumbles, though his eyes are glinting with amusement as he takes in her form, the way her costume clings to her curves, the swish of her crimson cape in the breeze.*

Y/n: Well, you can't blame me for getting into the spirit of things. *she winks at him, her grip on the thief tightening slightly.* Now, let's see what we've got here.

*The thief squirms beneath her, his eyes wide with fear as he sees the notorious Red Hood looming over him.*

Thief: Please, don't hurt me! *begs, his voice trembling.*

Y/n: Oh, don't worry. *she purrs* I've got a much more... festive way of dealing with naughty boys.

Jason: You're one twisted elf. *laughs, a sound that's half admiration, half bewilderment.*

Y/n: Why, thank you. *says, her smile sharp.* Now, let's get this over with so we can get to the good stuff. *With a swift move, she pulls out a set of handcuffs from her utility belt and secures the thief, then stands up, brushing off her knees.* All wrapped up and ready for the jolly ol' jail cell.

Jason: You've got a strange sense of humour.

Y/n: It keeps me warm on these cold patrol nights. *says, her eyes sparkling.* So, what's your Christmas wish?

Jason: To find out who you really are. *says, his voice low and intense, getting closer to her.* But I guess that's one present I can't unwrap until you're ready to tell me.

Y/n: Patience, Jason. *says, her voice a silky whisper.* Good things come to those who wait.

Jason: You're really pushing it, elf.

Y/n: Oh, I know. *laughs, her eyes lighting up.* But isn't that part of the fun?

*In a flash, he grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her into a kiss that was just as unexpected as the first one. This time, however, she doesn't pull away. Instead, she deepens it, her free hand sliding up to cup his cheek.*

Y/n: I guess I am feeling a bit generous tonight. *murmurs against his mouth.*

Jason: You're something else. *he says, his grip on her tightening as the kiss lingers.* But I'm not letting you go until I get answers.

Y/n: Well, you might just get more than you bargained for. *says, a mischievous glint in her eye as she leans in for another kiss, her body pressing against his. The tension between them is palpable, the air crackling with unspoken desires. The world around them fades away, leaving only the two of them, their breaths mingling in the cold night air. Breaking the kiss* But for now, we've got a city to protect. *says, a teasing lilt to her voice.*

Jason: Yea. *he agrees, his voice husky.* But later, we're finishing this.

Y/n: Looking forward to it. *she says, her voice a seductive purr.*

*And with that, they both leap into the night, the crimson and black figures disappearing into the shadows, leaving the thief to contemplate his unfortunate encounter with the unconventional heroes of the city.*

[angelfic]

— IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU BABY

pairing: mattheo riddle x nott!reader

summary: you weren't quite used to the attention of other boys, and it seems your brother's best friend isn't too fond of it either

warnings: brother's best friend trope!! swearing, kissing, not much else, very much unedited

author’s note: i don't tend to stray outside of the marauders era characters buuuut i've been a bit obsessed with mattheo and theo recently so this was for my own selfish needs lol as always let me know what you think!!

He had barely looked away from you all evening.

You knew the only reason Mattheo’s eyes had been fixed on you for the entirety of dinner was because of a certain type of attention you had unconsciously garnered on your first day back at school. Particularly male attention. It wasn’t any less disconcerting, however, knowing that your brother’s best friend was prepared to fist fight any potential romantic advances towards you because he was just as protective as your actual older sibling.

Your brother Theodore is no better, a displeased frown appearing every five minutes when he looks over to where you sit at the Gryffindor table.

“Merlin, boys are pathetic,” Ginny mutters, spearing a potato with her fork. “You go away for one summer and come back slightly prettier and they flock to you like bees to honey!” You’re about to weakly protest that she’s exaggerating, but at that exact moment you’re interrupted by a tap on your shoulder.

You slowly turn on the bench, reluctantly lowering your goblet of pumpkin juice to face Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw boy who you’d only ever spoken to when he was going out with Ginny.

“Hi, Michael,” you sigh, offering him a bland smile.

“Hello, Nott,” Michael replies, with what he probably thinks is a winning smile. “Had a good summer? I was just going to ask if you wanted to go on the first Hogsmeade visit of the term with me.”

You stare at him, unblinking. “Er- well, as… nice as that sounds,” you say slowly, not meaning a word. You glance at Ginny as pointedly as you can manage and raise an eyebrow. “I don’t quite relish the idea of going out with my best friend’s ex.”

“Oh! I, erm, I didn’t actually see you there, Ginny,” he stammers, laughing sheepishly. “My mistake.”

“Quite,” Ginny says drily, turning back to her plate of food.

“Well, er, see you later then,” Michael mumbles, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes back to the Ravenclaw table.

You bite your lip to stifle your giggles but it’s not long before you catch Ginny’s eye and the both of you erupt into fits of laughter.

“I can’t believe I ever went out with him,” Ginny groans, wiping her eyes.

“Was he always such a tosser or is that new?” you ask, snorting at the way Ginny scrunches up her face in embarrassment.

You’re still laughing when your eyes happen to pass over the Slytherin table just to focus on Mattheo.

You notice with a jolt that he’s looking at you again. This time, his eyes flick over to the Ravenclaw table for a second where Michael has settled back onto, then back to you and he quirks a brow quizzically.

Frowning, you mouth at him to stop in hopes that he ceases his scrutiny, just for him to roll his eyes and return to whatever one-sided conversation Blaise Zabini was attempting to engage him in. You hope you don’t look as flustered as you feel after realising Mattheo has just witnessed such an embarrassing encounter, but you’ve found over the years that you’re not the best at hiding the effects he has on you. Theo has never mentioned it in front of Mattheo as far as you’re aware, but he definitely hasn’t shied away from teasing you about the childhood crush you have on your brother’s closest friend. Not that you’ve ever admitted it to him anyway, and you’ve gotten a lot better at hiding it since nothing could ever come of it.

“Your brother and Riddle have been looking like they’re ready to halve the male population of Hogwarts since we got on the bloody train,” Ginny says, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Tell me about it,” you sigh, cutting into your carrot a little more viciously than needed. “They keep looking over at our table. I feel like I’m on one of those Muggle reality television programmes Hermione was telling your dad about the other week.”

Arthur Weasley was absolutely transfixed when he was learning about reality television from Hermione during breakfast the week you both stayed at The Burrow, and although you zoned out after his sixteenth question about a singular programme, you feel as though you caught the gist of it.

“Hm,” Ginny agrees, grimacing at the memory. She had nodded off at the table during that conversation and fallen asleep on her slice of toast. “In fairness, that’s not really a new thing.”

“What, being watched by my two guard dogs?” you ask in a mock-serious voice.

“Yeah, but…” Ginny chews thoughtfully for a second before answering. “I’m not just talking about today, or even recently. Your brother mostly minds his own business. I’m talking about Riddle. He’s always looking at you, I noticed it last year. Wherever we are, kind of like he’s checking up on you,” she says like it’s common knowledge, shrugging. “It’s sweet, I guess.”

You blink at her, a little speechless.

“What?” Ginny frowns after a few seconds of your silence. You look at her with raised eyebrows, not really taking her seriously. In your first few years at Hogwarts, you had confided in Ginny regarding your silly, little girl feelings for Mattheo and she would read into every action he took towards you in an attempt to prove he liked you too. Obviously, he saw you as nothing but a younger sister figure and once you grew up a bit, Ginny had let it go too.

Ginny reads your dubious expression now and sets down her knife and fork to cross her arms. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m serious! I’m not just saying it because you were helplessly in love with him until you were, like, fourteen.”

“Shush!” you hiss, thwacking her arm. “Why don’t you just get up on stage with Dumbledore and ask him to include that titbit of information for the entire school to hear in his speech!”

“Good idea,” she says, nodding seriously and starting to get up. You know she’s just teasing, but you start spluttering and frantically grab at her sleeve to sit her back down, causing her to topple onto you slightly. This sets you both off laughing again and you find it hard to stop for the rest of dinner and desert, thankfully staying far away from the topic of Mattheo. You also pointedly avoid looking at him again.

Once dinner is over, you head to the Gryffindor common room with the rest of your house and catch up with everyone for a while. After a couple hours of socialising and fifteen minutes of helping Neville Longbottom search for his pet toad, you head up to your dorm with Ginny and Lena, one of your other dormmates, to unpack.

As soon as you open your luggage, you search for your pyjamas and immediately change out of your robes and into a t-shirt and baggy shorts for comfort. You’re in the middle of unpacking some textbooks when you hear Lena whistle from behind you.

“I do not remember those pyjamas looking like that,” Lena comments, grinning at you. Rolling your eyes, you comply with her request to do a little spin and you can’t help feeling pleased when Lena and Ginny start whooping and hollering. “You’ve always been gorgeous, but you really grew up this summer, huh? Look at those legs!”

“Tell me about it,” Ginny pipes in, flopping down on her bed and abandoning her unpacked suitcase. “She came to stay for a week and Mum looked like she was going to cry every time she saw us. Something about ‘blossoming into young ladies’ or whatever bollocks.”

“You ‘blossomed’ last year,” you point out, and Lena hums in agreement. “I haven’t forgotten how Zacharias Smith fell off his broom trying to wave at you during Quidditch practice.”

Ginny groans and starts ranting about teenage boys again. Lena joins in and starts teasing her about how Harry Potter is the only boy she hasn’t complained about and you’re about to set down your belongings to help Lena dodge the pillows Ginny is throwing at her when a flash of green and silver in your suitcase catches your eye.

“Shite, I have Theo’s uniform,” you huff, grabbing the clothes out of your suitcase and sliding your slippers on. “That means he has mine and I am not dealing with this at seven in the morning. I’m gonna go drop this off, be back in a minute.”

Ginny says goodbye before resuming her pillow attack on Lena as you make your way out of the room and down into the common room. It’s nearly empty, with most people having gone to their rooms to pack and a quick glance at the clock tells you its past curfew. You decide to take the risk since you have a reasonable excuse, but you hope that if you do get caught, it isn’t by Filch or Snape.

By the time you’ve reached the dungeons, you thank Merlin that Theo had the sense to tell you the password for the Slytherin common room before dinner in case of emergency.

“Pureblood,” you mutter, fighting the urge to scoff when the door swings open. You enter the common room and brighten up when you see that the only students still hanging around are Theo and his friends. Your brother seems to have already started unpacking since he’s standing and holding your uniform, presumably about to come and find you. His friends all mumble polite ‘hello’s and he walks up to you with a smile.

“Oh, hey, I was just-” Theo cuts himself off when he properly looks at you and frowns. “Wha- Why are you wearing pyjamas out and about?”

“You’re wearing pyjamas too!” you exclaim, slightly embarrassed that your brother is doing this in front of your friends. They all turn to look at you again, hearing the indignation in Theo’s voice and you notice Mattheo suddenly sits up straighter. Suddenly aware of your bare legs, you tug down the material of your shorts, despite the fact they aren’t even very short to begin with.

“Oi. Stop looking at my sister!”” Theo snaps, glaring at Blaise, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. You know the only reason they glanced at you in the first place is out of curiosity regarding Theo’s question, but Theo and Mattheo scowl at them all the same and they all start sputtering, Draco in particular when Pansy narrows her eyes at him. Theo sighs at you, quickly exchanging your uniforms. “Just- at least take something to cover up back to your room.”

“I’ll walk her back,” Mattheo says, out of nowhere. He stands up and makes his way over to you, face carefully blank. Theo nods, agreeing quickly before he ruffles your hair goodbye to go and finish packing. You’re too surprised by Mattheo’s offer to protest until you’re already out of the Slytherin common room.

“I don’t need someone to walk me back, you know,” you mumble after a minute of charged silence.

“It was either me or Theo,” he shrugs, completely unapologetic when his mouth quirks up in a smug smile. “And I know you prefer me.”

“You’re both equally annoying,” you say, rolling your eyes, happy that he’s talking to you like normal again. You hated it whenever Mattheo was serious – it was rarely ever towards you and you much preferred when his whole face lit up with a smile. He begins to tease you about your bunny rabbit slippers and you’re in the middle of pretending to be irked when you both run into Ernie Macmillan, a Hufflepuff prefect doing patrol duties.

“Hey,” Ernie offers you a friendly smile and gives Mattheo a brief, slightly nervous glance. While you prefer not to get into trouble for breaking curfew, Mattheo clearly couldn’t care less and his relaxed, yet intimidating stance must be off-putting to Ernie. Thankfully, you’re on friendly terms with the Hufflepuff and you give him an even brighter smile to make up for it, to which he beams at. “How was your summer?”

“Good, yeah! Erm, listen Ernie. We didn’t mean to be out at this time, it’s just that I accidentally had my brother’s uniform and needed to-”

“Oh, forget it. Don’t worry, I won’t dock you any points,” Ernie reassures you, waving off your excuses and you instantly relax. Ernie gives Mattheo another unsure glance before leaning in the tiniest bit closer to you. You try not to pay attention to how Ernie has been glancing at your legs and how Mattheo tenses up when Ernie starts speaking again. “I was actually wondering if you were available next weekend…?”

Ernie trails off when you don’t show any indication of replying straight away and you snap out of your surprise to say something, but Mattheo beats you to it.

“She’s busy then,” he says coldly, working his jaw. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late. Kindly get lost.”

“Wha- Matt!” you hiss, smacking his chest to which he barely flinches, nor does he look at all apologetic. “Ernie, I-”

“Never mind,” he says quickly, seemingly eager to just leave. “I’ll, er, see you later.”

You stand frozen in shock while Ernie rushes down the corridor and turns the corner, leaving you and Mattheo alone. Turning slowly, you look at him with barely contained anger.

“Why the hell did you do that?” you demand, voice sharp as nails. If it weren’t past curfew and you weren’t in the middle of a school corridor, you would most definitely be yelling. Mattheo stands with his hands in his pockets, clenching his jaw and his silence makes you even angrier. You accepted long ago that you’d never have a chance with him, but now he was getting in the way of you having a chance with anyone. It was completely unfair. “What if I actually wanted to go out with him?!”

Mattheo scowls at this, but his impossibly dark brown eyes flash with a hint of uncertainty. “Did you?”

“What?” you ask, impatient.

“Did you want to go out with him?” he says, voice low and dangerous. He walks forward, towering over you and you refuse to be intimidated so you start walking backward until your back is against the wall. Despite having cornered you, he maintains a fair amount of distance between you, leaving plenty of space if you want to move away. You don’t.

“That’s none of your business,” you say stubbornly, raising your chin and trying your best to keep your voice steady. Mattheo narrows his eyes and reduces the distance between you ever so slightly with another small step. You nervously keep talking. “I can go out with whoever I want.” Another step. “And you can’t just-” One more step. “Matt.” His shoes are flush with your slippers.

“What?” he whispers, tilting his head and looking at you calmly, while you feeling anything but calm. “I can’t just… what?”

The previously respectable distance has gone out the window and instead you barely have space to breathe with the way Mattheo is leaning in, head dipped toward you but never touching, hands resting on the wall either side of you. He leans in, eyes dropping to your lips and your heart leaps in your chest with anticipation, but he ghosts his lips over your jaw instead and the barely-there contact has you breathing unevenly.

“You can’t…” you exhale, trying to finish your sentence with some dignity and failing miserably. “You can’t just scare people off like an overprotective older brother.”

Mattheo stills, lifting his head enough to meet your eyes, but making no move to distance himself any further. He scoffs quietly. “Brother,” he says the word with a mildly disgusted scowl. “Is that what you think I want to be?”

“I- I don’t…”

“You don’t know,” Mattheo finishes for you, the corners of his mouth turning up, yet his expression is devoid of humour. “No, you don’t know how badly I wanted to hex Macmillan just now. How badly I wanted to try out some new, experimental spells on that fucking Ravenclaw earlier. But none of that had anything to do with brotherly feelings.”

“They were just being nice,” you say stupidly, with not a clue in the world as to why you’re defending them right now. If anything, you’re just confused.

Mattheo quirks a brow, tongue pressing against his cheek as he considers your words. “That Ravenclaw from earlier was talking about you on the train. He said he was going to ask you out at dinner because you’d ‘gotten hot’ over summer,” Mattheo sneers, like he’s suddenly regretting not hexing Michael Corner in the Great Hall. “They weren’t being nice.”

All of a sudden, you feel irritated because you have no idea why Mattheo is telling you any of this. “What’s wrong with a boy finding me attractive? Is that such a crazy idea?” you demand, part of you not wanting him to answer.

“Merlin, do I seriously have to say it?” he groans, sighing when you glare at him. Mattheo takes a breath, meeting your eyes and you marvel at the sincerity you see when he speaks. “You didn’t ‘get hot’ over the summer. You’ve always been beautiful and they’re idiots for not paying attention then.”

Your breath catches in your throat, whether it’s from emotion or from the close proximity with Mattheo, you aren’t sure. “You think I’m beautiful?”

Mattheo nods, leaning back in to brush his nose against your own, his breath mingling with yours. “Always have.”

You take this as a cue to grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in and the next thing you know, his mouth is firm against yours, and his hands are finally touching you, grabbing you by the waist and sliding up your back to hold you closer. You’ve thought about kissing Mattheo before, but the thoughts feel utterly stupid compared to the real thing. Mattheo kisses you fiercely, mouth sliding hot and wet against your own making you come alive and weakening you at the same time. He nips at your bottom lip and you gasp, causing him to smile into the kiss. Your hands are sliding up his chest to snake around his neck when a thought suddenly occurs to you and you pull away abruptly.

“Oh my God, Theodore,” you hiss, covering your mouth with your hand. Mattheo furrows his brows, looking a little dazed and confused. “What are we going to tell him?”

 “He knows I’ve loved you since we were kids,” Mattheo says flippantly, waving you off and impatiently starting to lean in again, but you stop him with a hand on his chest. “What?”

“You’ve loved me since we were kids?” The words hardly register, but before you can feel any sort of elation, you mostly feel pissed off that your brother has clearly had his fun with the situation for years. “And Theo knows?”

“Yes,” Mattheo says slowly, as if he were talking to a child. He brushes the hair out of your face and his gaze turns a little uncertain when he speaks. “Er, this is hopefully the part where you say you feel the same way.”

“Well, of course I feel the same way,” you huff, still thoroughly annoyed at Theo. “He knew I was crazily in love with you too and the bastard was so irritating about it!”

You’re about three quarters of the way down a list of ways you want to get back at your brother when Mattheo gently turns your face by the chin to look at him. “As much as I’d love for you to plot against your brother right now, it’s kind of a mood killer thinking about him when I’m kissing you.”

“Sorry, sorry. Continue with the kissing.”

“How romantic,” he says drily. His smirk turns smug, however, when he processes your previous statement. “So… you were in love with me too. What was the word you used, again? Crazily? Crazily in love…”

“Don’t make me take it back, ‘cause I swear I will.”

© angelfic 2023.

[shizunitis]

Ghostfire Shen Yuan loyally following the lonely, undying, forgotten Luo Binghe from the original outline.

They never even met.

Shen Yuan had died long before Luo Binghe’s story was set to start. Abandoned by his System, he was left wandering the realms, searching for anything to latch onto, anything to stave off the darkness encroaching on his consciousness whenever he stopped. He keeps himself entertained with little jokes and references that will never reach anyone. At least back home, there were other people on the opposite side of his screen reacting, seeing. Paying attention.

He never would have thought he’d miss the times he was perceived by others. He’d give anything, though. Anything.

He stumbles upon the protagonist as he’s ascending the stairs of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect for the first time. Dressed in rags and heaving with the effort, Luo Binghe is exactly as Shen Yuan had pictured: a little bun, soft and kind and so very brave.

The excitement wears off soon enough. When the tea ceremony is held, Shen Yuan watches, hopelessly trying to stop the cup from hitting Binghe’s head. He lunges at Shen Jiu; let him be identified and exorcised, at least he would have done something with himself, however useless. It doesn’t work. Of course not—nothing can come between Luo Binghe and his fate.

Shen Yuan thinks about leaving. Many times. But every time he considers the possibility of going back to wandering the world, or just passing on… Well. There’s still a lot to see, isn’t there? It will get better. It will.

Only, it doesn’t. Not really.

There’s no harem; there’s no warm comfort offered to Luo Binghe by a sympathetic beauty, no wedding celebrations, no moments of gentle companionship, however brief, however superficial. There’s no camaraderie with his demon underlings, his generals, his allies; it’s all casual cruelty and dismissals, before it’s violence and subjugation.

There’s no joy. There’s no hope. There’s no ‘better’.

Something is wrong, that’s clear. Something is wrong, and Shen Yuan has no one to blame.

This is not the Proud Immortal Demon Way he knows.

Centuries later, when Luo Binghe begs for the heavens to allow him to die, Shen Yuan hears. When Luo Binghe rages against the passage of time, alone in the wreckage of his palace, left behind by everyone he’d ever known, Shen Yuan accompanies him. When Luo Binghe lies down in the Holy Mausoleum and refuses to get up, Shen Yuan waits, as he had for centuries, until Luo Binghe opens his eyes again and takes to the road.

They end up in a hidden realm so filled with Yin energy that Shen Yuan can channel it to manipulate his form into that of his former body. It’s not detectable by the living, but it’s there. He feels stronger, too. He can walk, float, fly, interact with what few other ghosts they encounter.

Still, Luo Binghe cannot see him.

Luo Binghe doesn’t talk much. Well, that makes sense, he was never in the habit of talking to himself, but still. It’s lonely.

They end up in a town where a diviner takes one look at Luo Binghe and offers him a free reading. Shen Yuan can’t enter her tent, well-warded against foreign entities as it is, so he waits outside.

She tells Luo Binghe of the little hanger-on he’s got. A powerful one, too, though he’s still getting used to his powers. He’s been here for a long time, she says. Since he was a child. He comes from far away—farther than even the most distant star.

Luo Binghe begins talking to him. Shen Yuan isn’t sure why, but he’s not complaining!

Luo Binghe also begins meditating again, trying to soothe the damage done by Xin Mo over the centuries. For every meal, he places a few fruits or snacks across from him on a plate he’d made himself, which he eats only after finishing his own dish. He makes space by his side whenever he walks on a narrow road. He stops at every landmark and tells stories about them, always starting the same way.

“Do you remember when…” becomes Shen Yuan’s favourite phrase.

One night, Luo Binghe sighs and looks across the table. Shen Yuan places himself so that he’s in Luo Binghe’s focus.

“What is it, Binghe?”

Luo Binghe doesn’t answer him, of course. Still, it feels like a conversation, when he says:

“I wish I knew your name.”

Shen Yuan frets. He’s been trying to manipulate the physical world, but he never got the hang of it. He’d tried drawing in sand, with water, just pushing things off shelves. And yet, nothing.

“I’m sorry, I wish—” he tries, but Luo Binghe is already talking again.

“I wonder if we ever crossed paths when you were alive.” He’s expressed this thought more than once. Shen Yuan never likes to think about how they’ve missed each other, how they’d been set up for failure from the start. “I wonder if we would have been friends.”

Shen Yuan scoffs. Of course not. Him and the protagonist? No way.

But—those cold star eyes, blindly searching for him, trying to land on him… They make him want to say, I would have liked that.

He reaches a hand out to touch Luo Binghe’s forehead. He’s taken to doing it whenever Luo Binghe broods, or makes a silly joke Shen Yuan wishes he didn’t find funny. It’s soothing.

He wishes Binghe could feel it.

When his finger touches the demon mark, it blazes. Luo Binghe gasps, that heavy gaze settling on Shen Yuan’s face.

Shen Yuan startles, and jumps away.

“No! Wait!”

Shen Yuan hesitates. Luo Binghe is looking around himself, eyes begging for even a wisp of Shen Yuan’s shadow.

He can’t deny Luo Binghe this.

He can’t deny himself this.

He reaches out again. This time, he cups Luo Binghe’s cheeks. When those eyes clear of panic and widen in awe, he whispers, softly, “Shen Yuan. My name is Shen Yuan.”

Luo Binghe looks like he’s been handed a treasure so precious he’s afraid to touch it. He hesitates, raising his hands in careful starts and stops, before taking Shen Yuan’s face in them, gently caressing the soft, cold skin of his face. His eyes dance with the haste he takes in memorising Shen Yuan’s features.

Then, he smiles. Helpless and weak and so, so precious. Shen Yuan has not seen hope so bright in Luo Binghe’s face since that fateful day on Cang Qiong Mountain.

“Hello, Shen Yuan.”

[slu7formen]

MDNI. luke x fem!reader

you and Luke end up stuck in the same motel room on a mission, but as he tries his best to stay as far away from you as possible, he ends up with you sitting on his lap and moaning his name.

warnings: enemies to lovers (?, reader’s godly parent is not mentioned, CLASSIC share-the-same-bed prompt, cussing, clothed s3x, pet names, teasing, kinda virgin!luke, dom!luke for a sec, luke sees reader in her underwear

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

₊˚⊹♡

The groan of the rusty –stolen– car door echoed in the woods like a death knell. You slammed it shut with a wince, the throbbing ache in your shoulder protesting the movement as you placed your bag on it. The vehicle now lay crumpled against a giant redwood, a testament to the gigantic beast you'd just barely managed to outrun before Percy took take of it with Anaklusmos.

And him, ever the optimist, managed a weak attempt at sarcasm. "Well, that went great, don´t you think?" he muttered to you, his voice laced with exhaustion. A fresh cut adorned his cheek, a reminder of his near-death experience, from their recent encounter.

Luke, face dirty and torso sweaty, slammed the trunk shut with a finality that mirrored the exhaustion etched on his face. Dirt smudged his usually perfect features, and sweat plastered his black hair to his forehead, a sight that would have sent shivers down the spine of any other girl at camp. On you, however, it just fueled the simmering fire inside you that made you want to punch his face.

He slung his worn backpack over one shoulder, the weight of responsibility and fatigue pulling him down.

"Remind me not to let you drive again. Ever." he said to you, his voice laced with a mocking lilt.

You rolled your eyes, the familiar irritation sparking within you. "Oh, give me a break" you spat back, hands on your hips. "I'm the only one with a license here, genius."

"Is your license useful when it comes to a stolen car, genius?" he replied, voice lowering to match his mockery and a punchable smirk playing on his lips. He really knew how to push your buttons, even when you were both staring down the barrel of another night on the run, another night without a decent meal or a good night's sleep.

"At least I can drive" you countered, ignoring the prickle of annoyance that ran down your spine. "Besides, who else would have gotten us this far? You?" You gestured towards the flickering neon sign of a ramshackle motel in the distance, a beacon of hope in the gathering darkness.

"Enough" Annabeth said, her voice firm despite the tiredness in her tone. "You two can fight later, but right now, we need to find somewhere to stay. I am not spending another night sleeping on a tree"

With a determined stomp, she marched towards the side of the road. You and Luke both took a step forward at the same time, then stopped, locked in a silent battle of who would yield. You mockingly straightened your arm towards Annabeth's path. "Ladies first" you said to him.

He squinted his eyes playfully as he walked past you. “Very mature” he muttered.

The flickering neon sign cut through the twilight like a neon lifeline as you walked. ‘The Sun n' Sands Motel’ proclaimed in faded glory, the letters crooked and the sun sporting a single, sad-looking ray. It wasn't the exactly luxury, but after days on the run, a crumpled car, and a near-death encounter with a creature straight out of your worst nightmares, this place looked like a five-star resort.

"Finally" you sighed, relief washing over you in waves. You could practically smell the promise of clean sheets and a bed that didn't groan ominously with every movement. And a shower. Gods, you craved that.

Pushing open the glass door, you were greeted with a musty scent that hung in the air like a forgotten memory. The lobby was small and poorly decorated, the faded floral wallpaper clashing horrendously with the worn brown carpeting. Behind a chipped counter sat a woman whose age defied easy categorization. Her hair, the color of tarnished silver, was pulled back in a tight bun, emphasizing the deep lines etched around her eyes. She sat engrossed in a beauty magazine, oblivious to the four weary demigods who had just entered.

With a sigh that condensed the exhaustion of your entire journey, you approached the counter. Slamming a wad of crumpled bills onto the counter, you declared, "Rooms for four, please."

Percy shuffled behind you, his eyes flitting around the room with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Annabeth scanned the lobby for any signs of potential danger, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her dagger.

The woman finally looked up, her gaze lingering on you for too long before flickering to the rest of your group. A slow smile played on her lips, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "One room, two beds?" she drawled, her voice thick with a southern twang that seemed to grate on your already frayed nerves.

"Two rooms" you corrected, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. Sharing a room with Luke Castellan, a roof, again, even in this desolate outpost, was an idea so abhorrent you couldn't entertain it for a second.

As if sensing your objection, the woman tapped away at a dusty computer terminal. A smirk played on her lips. "Couple's getaway, huh?" she asked, her eyes darting from Luke, back to you.

Percy and Annabeth exchanged a surprised and disgusted look. "What?" you demanded, your irritation bubbling over.

But before you could react, you felt Luke´s heavy arm slunging casually around your shoulder, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. "Looks like we're gonna have to get a little bit cozy, don't you think, baby?" he drawled playfully.

You gritted your teeth, biting down on the inside of your cheek to keep from exploding. You knew perfectly well he was just trying to get under your skin, and the worst part was, it was working. The thought of sharing a room with him was bad enough, but the idea of him calling you "baby" sent shivers down your spine – not of pleasure, but of pure, unadulterated annoyance.

Faking a sickly sweet smile, you leaned in and delivered a sharp elbow jab directly to his stomach. He doubled over with a groan, clutching his center for a moment. "Call me 'baby' again," you hissed, your voice low and dangerous, "and I'll punch way lower than that."

“Got it, muscles” he wheezed.

The receptionist, clearly enjoying the spectacle, leaned back in her chair and tapped away at the computer again. "Right now, we have one room with a double bed, and another one with two single beds" she explained.

You glanced back at Annabeth, a silent question hanging in the air. She nodded in understanding. Two single beds might not be ideal, but it was infinitely preferable to sharing a room with Luke.

"We'll take them" you declared.

The woman expertly counted the money, her lips pursed in concentration. "Rooms thirteen and fifteen." she announced, handing you two keys. "No smoking inside, and do not break anything, or you'll be charged double" the lady continued, her voice laced with a warning that was clearly aimed at you and Luke.

As you all four walked towards the stairs, you tossed the key to room fifteen at Luke. He snatched it reflexively in the air, a hint of confussion in his face. “Boys, you´ll share a room” you declare.

Luke scoffed behind your back. "What are we? Eleven?" he asked.

"It was a nightmare to drive a car with you in it" you retorted, "can't imagine what it would be like to share a room."

Later, after some questionable inspectioning around the room and re-organizing your bag for when you leave tomorrow morning, you finally had a little time to yourself.

The cool water splashed against your face, washing away the grime and exhaustion of the day. You glanced over at Annabeth, who was meticulously placing her most important things on the floor to clean and organize her bag; her dagger, her cap, a rope, a squished water bottle, and a few maps. Despite the cramped confines of the motel room, a sense of peace settled over you. Even with Luke's irritating presence hanging over your head, it was a welcome change from the constant fear and adrenaline that had fueled your journey.

A sharp rapping on the door snapped you out of your reverie. "Coming!" Annabeth called out. She opened the door just a crack as you peeked your head out of the tiny bathroom door. You were greeted by the sight of a very smug-looking Percy. His cheeks were puffed out, and he was clutching a brown paper bag that seemed precariously close to bursting.

"Uh, hey" he mumbled, his voice muffled through a mouthful of something chocolatey. "I raided the vending machine downstairs” he simply explained.

Annabeth turned towards you. “Dinner?” she asked.

The offer of a snack, however meager, was enough to send your stomach grumbling in protest. The idea of a proper meal sounded heavinly, the food from camp, the meat, the mashed potatoes. Gods, you really wanted to be back. But right now, even the greasiest bag of chips could be enough for you.

Percy shoved his way past Annabeth and into the room. He disgorged his loot onto the small bedside table that sat between your beds. Annabeth, with her usual organizational skills, started to create a semblance of order from the chaotic pile of snacks.

Across the room, you noticed Luke still leaning against the doorway. He had shed his usual polished exterior for a pair of worn sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, a sight that momentarily threw you off balance. He took you in with a lazy glance, his eyes lingering on your tired face and messy hair. "Looking good" he called, a smirk playing on his lips.

One of your eyes twitched in irritation. Grabbing the wet towel you'd been using, you flung it at him with a growl. He managed to snag it out of the air just before it connected with his face.

"Hilarious" he remarked.

Annabeth jumped in before the playful hostility could escalate further. "How about a movie?" she suggested, her voice laced with a hint of forced cheer.

The idea wasn't exactly appealing, but the prospect of some semblance of downtime outweighed the absurdity of watching television in a dingy motel room. You and Luke exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between you. You didn't know how much peace you could get in the middle of a mission, or for how long, but the idea of just sitting down and eating calmly while watching a movie was undeniably tempting. Even with the dubious snacks and the cramped quarters, it felt like a small oasis in the storm of your current situation.

The movie selection on the ancient TV was limited, to say the least. After a series of disgruntled grumbles and channel surfing, they settled on a cheesy romance movie with a plot that could have been predicted by a hyperactive squirrel. The acting was atrocious, the dialogue predictable, and the special effects looked like they were created by a bored teenager with basic editing software. Yet, despite the movie's inherent ridiculousness, a strange sense of camaraderie filled the room. Laughter, albeit tinged with exhaustion, erupted at the predictable plot twists and overly dramatic dialogue.

As the minutes ticked by, Percy and Annabeth succumbed to the fatigue of the day. Annabeth curled up by your side on her bed, but her eyelids eventually fluttered shut and her head lolled back against your shoulder. Percy managed to stay up for a little longer with Luke, but his snorting could easily be heard just ten minutes after.

Silence stretched between you and Luke, punctuated only by the rhythmic snores of Percy and the occasional sigh from Annabeth in her sleep. You glanced over at your friend, her head resting peacefully against your shoulder. Despite the discomfort of the shared bed and the dubious snacks, a sliver of normalcy felt oddly comforting.

Across from you, Luke mirrored your posture, leaning back against the headboard with his arms crossed. His gaze was fixed on the flickering television screen, but you knew his attention wasn't on the atrocious movie. He was lost in thought, a furrow etched between his brows.

There was tension in the air, a constant undercurrent simmering between you two. You didn't like each other, that much was certain. He was arrogant, self-serving, and his loyalty always seemed to have a price tag attached. Yet, a grudging respect had grown between you over the years. You both understood the weight of your responsibilities, the burden of protecting those younger, more innocent.

He cleared his throat, the sound sharp in the quiet room. "Hey, Per—" he began, his voice a low murmur.

“Hey” you called. Luke´s head snapped towards your direction. "He's been out for more than half an hour" you interjected softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't wake him up."

Luke's head tilted to the side. Confusion flickered across his brown eyes before settling on a scowl. "What?" he hissed, barely louder than a whisper.

"Think about it" you countered, your voice a low murmur that wouldn't disturb the sleeping teens. "Percy's been snoring like a miniature thunderstorm for at least ten minutes. Annabeth wouldn't wake up even if a centaur stepped next to her right now. Waking them up would just cause a monster of a different kind."

You knew Luke understood. You weren't just talking about Percy's physical exhaustion. You were both keenly aware of the burden these young demigods carried. They craved normalcy as much as anyone, and these stolen moments of peaceful sleep, however fleeting, were a precious commodity. Watching them, so vulnerable and carefree in their slumber, filled you with a fierce protectiveness. The last thing you wanted to do was disrupt that.

Luke didn't reply, but his gaze mirrored your sentiments. A flicker of something akin to respect softened the harsh lines of his face. You weren't friends, not by any stretch of the imagination. Yet, you shared a common enemy and a common purpose – to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

The silence stretched for a momento before he cleared his throat again, the sound sharp in the cramped room. "So," he drawled, his voice laced with a hint of resignation, "what do we do then?"

You sighed, frustration creeping into your voice. "Guess we're stuck sharing a room after all" you muttered, throwing your hands up in defeat. The idea was far from appealing.

Luke's face contorted in horror. He let out a theatrical whine that would rival any crying toddler. "Oh come on" he whined, stretching the word into several syllables. "Sharing a room with you? Talk about cruelty and punishment."

“Oh, just shut up” you whispered-yelled at him. “Trust me, I don´t wanna sleep next to you either. I´ll build up a wall of pillows before you can even start snoring”

There was a certain absurdity to the situation, being forced to share a room with your least favorite person. But beneath the surface, you both acknowledged the unspoken truth – the safety and well-being of Percy and Annabeth took precedence over any personal discomfort.

You both rose from your beds, a tense air crackling around you. Picking up your backpack, you hoisted it over your shoulder with a sigh. "Alright" you declared, marching towards the door. "Let's get this over with."

Luke followed, his movements mirroring yours. The walk down the cramped hallway was filled with an tension. Neither of you dared to speak. Reaching his door, Luke fumbled for the key, his irritation evident in his clumsiness. Finally, with a click, the door swung open, revealing a room identical to yours – basic, cramped, and thoroughly unappealing.

Stepping inside, you couldn't help but let out a groan. A single, double bed dominated the room, leaving absolutely no room for separate sleeping arrangements. God, why did Percy have to fall asleep? Why didn´t you and Annabeth pick this room earlier? Everything was going the wrong way for you. You exchanged a look with Luke, the message clear in your burning eyes.

"Snort or drool" Luke began, his voice a low growl as he pointed a finger at you "and I swear I'll throw you out the window"

"Hm, how charming" you replied sarcastically, stepping past him and into the room.

The bed loomed before you, a battleground for an uncomfortable night's sleep. With a sigh, you dropped your backpack onto the nearest chair. Luke began building a formidable fortress of pillows in the center of the bed. You rolled your eyes at the sight. This was so ridiculous.

A glance at your watch confirmed your suspicions. It was not too late to hop on quick shower. Percy and Luke walked down to the vending machine so quickly earlier that you didn´t even have time to wash yourself before they came to your room with the so called dinner. Your clothes clung to you uncomfortably, the grime of the day begging to be washed away. You looked for a clean shirt you were sure you packed before leaving camp days ago. The possibilites of a shower were low in missions like these, but you never knew.

Leaving your backpack open on the chair, you made your way to the bathroom door, silently pushing it open. Luke watched your movements for a fleeting moment, but quickly went back to his pillow fortification once your figure disappeared inside the small bathroom. He didn't think much of it at first. You were just getting ready for the night, whatever your methods.

Inside the bathroom, you began stripping off your clothes, the cool air a welcome sensation against your heated skin. In your state of exhaustion, you neglected to fully close the bathroom door. A foolish mistake, perhaps, but in your defense, the room was tiny and the it wouldn't be winning any awards for spaciousness. Right now, all you craved was a chance to scrub away the road dust and find a clean shirt for the —uncomfortable— night ahead.

A few seconds later, a muffled curse broke the silence on Luke´s side. Luke, realizing he'd left his toothbrush in the bathroom, stopped himself from the pillows task and approached the bathroom door. He was expecting it to be shut. A polite knock, a request for his forgotten toothbrush – that was the plan. But as he drew closer, his steps faltered. The door wasn't shut.

“Seriously!?”

There you stood, completely devoid of clothes except for your underwear, taking off your camp´s necklace and your earrings. The warm glow from the bathroom light accentuated the smooth lines of your shoulders and the curve of your back. Time seemed to freeze for a beat. Luke's breath hitched in his throat.

You whirled around, startled. A small laugh escaped your lips as you saw Luke's flustered expression. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and his brown eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route.

"Didn't think you'd be so shy, Luke" It was a playful jab, a way to lighten the sudden tension that had filled the small space.

Luke sputtered, his voice barely even a regular tone. "Shy? I'm not-, I mean-…” he kept cutting himself off. “This-, don´t you know what privacy is!?"

His indignation was adorable, you couldn't help but think to yourself. You'd never seen him so flustered, so utterly out of sorts. A mischievous glint sparked in your eyes.

"Oh, come on" you countered, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Don't tell me you've never seen a girl in this state before."

The question just didn´t have an asnwer. Luke's mouth clamped shut. His eyes widened for a moment, then darted back down to the floor, avoiding your gaze. There was a flicker of something in his eyes – a memory, perhaps, or a realization – but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

The silence stretched, thick and awkward. You realized you had hit a nerve, a part of Luke you hadn't expected to expose, not in front of you. A pang of unexpected curiosity pricked at your insides. Just what kind of experiences had this arrogant, self-assured perfect golden boy had?

You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe apologize for your teasing, but Luke beat you to it.

"Just shower and get dressed, okay?" he mumbled, his voice tight with suppressed frustration. "I want to sleep."

He didn't wait for a reply, simply turning on his heel and retreating back to his pillow fort. You watched him go, a smile playing on your lips. The encounter had been unexpected, to say the least, but it had definitely shaken things up.

A low chuckle escaped your lips. "You'll wait for me?" you called out playfully, knowing full well he wouldn't answer.

"Shut up!" came his muffled reply from behind the pillows.

The silence in the cramped room was thick enough to spread. You emerged from the bathroom, a clean shirt clinging to your damp form and a towel wrapped around your head like a makeshift turban. You caught sight of Luke burrowed deep beneath the barricade of pillows, a picture of forced nonchalance. His eyes were resolutely fixed on the ceiling, but you could practically feel the heat radiating off him.

A mischievous glint flickered in your eyes. He might have gotten away with a verbal escape route earlier, but you weren't done yet. "Well, aren't you going to say something?" you queried, amusement dancing in your voice. "Speechless, Castellan? That's a first."

Luke remained stubbornly silent, his jaw clenched tight. He could feel the blush creeping back up his neck, a burning reminder of his moment of weakness. How was he supposed to act normal after seeing...well, after seeing more of you than he ever bargained for? The image of your smooth skin and the graceful curve of your back was burned into his memory, a stark contrast to the sarcastic warrior he knew.

You flopped down onto the bed, the makeshift wall of pillows separating you from Luke. You turned off the bedside lamp in silence before removing the towel off your hair, gently brushing it. The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft rustle of your brush. Just as you thought Luke had successfully retreated into a silent sulk, his voice broke through the tension.

"Look" he muttered, whispering "it was an accident. Just forget it, alright?"

You couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, come on" you teased, leaning back against the pillows. "Didn’t expect that seeing a little skin was such a big deal for someone like you."

Luke shot you a glare, but it lacked its usual bite. Someone like him? What the hell did you mean by that? Maybe it was the unexpectedness of it all, or maybe it was the way the dim light had cast your figure in a different light, one he hadn't noticed before. Whatever it was, it had thrown him completely off balance.

A sudden, and quite unwelcome, thought struck him. Just what kind of experiences had you had? He knew you weren't naive, or dumb. But the thought of you with someone else… the possessiveness that flared up within him surprised him. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, but a strange sense he couldn't quite explain.

He pushed the thought aside, focusing on calming his racing heart. He needed sleep, not a philosophical debate about his feelings for his least favorite demigod. Just as he was about to drift off, your voice sliced through the silence, sharper than any blade.

"Are you a virgin, Luke?"

The question hung in the air, a verbal bombshell that shattered the fragile peace. Luke's eyes snapped open, wide with disbelief. Gods, you were bold. He stared at you in the dark, lifiting his head up just enough to peak from the pillows in between your boides, his mind struggling to process your words.

"What?" he finally managed, his voice husky with disbelief.

A faint blush crept up your cheeks, a stark contrast to the playful glint in your eyes. "You heard me" you countered.

Luke felt a surge of annoyance mixed with a strange vulnerability. He wasn't used to being caught off guard, especially not by you. He opened his mouth to retort, to deflect the question with his usual sarcastic wit, but the words wouldn't come.

His gaze drifted towards the wall, a silent battle raging within him. Should he answer your question honestly? The thought of revealing such a personal detail to you, his nemesis, was unappealing. But then again, a small part of him, the part he kept hidden away, craved a different kind of connection with you.

He took a deep breath, the decision made. "Does it matter?" he finally replied, his voice a low murmur.

You turned on your side, facing him across the wall of pillows, getting rid of some of them, dropping them to the carpeted floor. The moonlight filtering through the window cast an ethereal glow on your face, making your eyes seem to sparkle with mischief.

"Maybe it does" you said, your voice soft and laced with an undercurrent of something else - intrigue? Even in the darkness, you could see the way your words affected him, the way his dark eyes seemed to flicker with a mixture of emotions.

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get a word out, you cut him off with a laugh that seemed tinged with nervousness.

"Forget it" you said, shaking your head slightly. "Just... hormonal thoughts." The explanation felt flimsy, even to your own ears. This wasn't just idle curiosity; it was something deeper, something you couldn't quite explain yet.

Luke remained silent for a moment, your sudden change in direction throwing him off. Part of him was relieved you weren't pressing the issue, but another part, the part he usually kept suppressed, felt a flicker of disappointment. He wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't found your boldness, your honesty, even your sudden vulnerability, strangely appealing.

"Hormonal thoughts, huh?" he finally echoed, his voice husky. "Does that mean you wanna have sex with me?" He dared to voice the possibility that you might be attracted to him. He must´ve been out of his mind.

The thought was simply impossible. Yet, the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight, the way you'd turned towards him, discarding some of the pillows as if to bridge the gap…

"No!" you blurted out, as if reading his mind. The defensiveness in your voice surprised you both. "It's not that at all. It's just... I don't know." Frustration laced your words. This whole conversation was turning into a confusing mess. “Just… how far have you reached with a girl?”

Luke stared at you, dumbfounded. This night had taken a turn he hadn't anticipated. Why were you even talking about this? Why were you asking these questions? Why, despite the initial irritation, was he finding himself answering?

Heaving a sigh, he sat up against the headboard, exhaustion finally catching up to him. "Not too far, actually" he mumbled, the words laced with a weariness that surprised him. The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, a confession he wouldn't have made to anyone else. He hadn't meant to dwell on past experiences, especially not with you. He hadn't realized how much he'd carried on his shoulders, the weight of overlooked desires he never truly got to satisfy. Suddenly, the frustration in your voice clicked into place. Was that why you'd asked? Was it because you felt the same way, burdened by an unfulfilled yearning?

But as you shifted in your bed, suddenly sitting up on your knees, he couldn't help but notice the way your silhouette was illuminated by the moonlight. And then he saw it — the lack of shorts beneath your t-shirt, a detail he'd managed to conveniently overlook in the heat of the moment, which didn´t make sense at all.

"What are you—?" he began, the question dying on his lips as you moved closer. You began to dismantle the remaining wall of pillows, clearing the way between you.

His heart hammered against his ribs as you sat down on his lap, one leg on each side of him. You were close, closer than you'd ever been before. A mix of confusion and arousal that left him speechless. You stared at him, your eyes reflecting the soft moonlight, as your hands reached for his.

"Have you ever done this?" you asked, your voice gentle, devoid of the usual sarcasm you wielded like a weapon. You weren't mocking him, weren't trying to pry. This was a genuine question, a moment of surprising intimacy that neither of you could have predicted.

Luke stared at you, his mind reeling. His hands, usually quick and confident, felt heavy and clumsy under your touch. You guided them to hold steady of your thighs, even though you were not moving, not yet.

Luke had never been more confused in his life. His mind raced, searching for a coherent response, an appropriate action. Was this a trap? A test? 'What the hell?' his mind raced.

But as he looked into your eyes, searching for an explanation, all he saw was a reflection of his own thunderstorm. You were just as confused as he was, caught in a moment of unexpected intimacy.

Neither of you knew what to say, what to do next. This wasn't part of the plan. You were supposed to be enemies, rivals forced to share a cramped motel room.

You know, the classic shit.

But this wasn’t it. This was something strange that even though he hated to admit it, he didn’t want it to end yet.

So he trailed his hands higher. Higher, higher, higher. Then placed his hands on your hips. He was breathless, and a sudden feeling of dumbness filled his insides as he stared at you, reading you like a book; you were waiting. And he had no idea what to do.

But you surely did. A slight sway of your hips was all he needed to breath out the amount of air his chest was holding. Then another one, and another; each movement pressed deliciously against his cock, already hardened.

He let out a deep groan, teeth tightening and head falling back slightly.

You placed your hands around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, almost chest to chest. Your hips kept rolling over him. If this felt good to him, it must’ve feel like heaven to you, due to your lack of lower clothes.

“You’re big, Luke” you whispered, a tiny smirk smudged along your lips. There it was. You again.

He thanked the darkness for hiding his red cheeks, but his state was not going to make him vulnerable again. He gripped your hips tighter, pulling at the top of your ass towards him over and over. “Fuck, just shut up for five minutes” he breathed out.

You didn’t answer. Your mouth hang open over his own. Your lips were dangerously close to touching, to kissing. But it was not gonna happen. As your hips rolled at a fast pace his breath tangled with yours, his moans, his groans, everything was swallowed by your own sounds.

He should feel embarrassed of behaving like this, not only because it is you but because he’s supposed to be in the middle of a mission. But come on, he knew this would happen soon or later.

All those years in which he secretly saved his feeling for himself. He had to hide the fact that whenever he touched your skin, whenever he felt your warm body against his hands, even the slightest and most teasing touch, a bolt of lighting went from the tip of his toes to his head.

He felt drunk in you in just a second and what, because he accidentally saw you almost naked?

He had to thank the gods for his luck.

“Oh, Luke” you moaned, head tilting back as you squeezed your eyes shut. Oh, he liked that.

He audibly chucked, laughed at you. “Who would’ve known?” he asked. “Who would’ve known you’d be so dirty, baby?”

Your eyes sparkled with fire, piercing Luke’s insides as the scar on his face twitched like every time he smiled. Despite the look on your face, your hips kept rolling over his; you couldn’t stop. It felt too good, too hot, too wet, even under Luke’s sweatpants.

“Don’t call me baby” you managed to blurt out, but the sound coming out of your mouth just made the whole sentence something pornographic. Luke didn’t complain.

You removed your hands from his neck. He was convinced you were gonna climb off of him and he would have to apologize repeatedly so he could finally get to cum with you on top of him; but instead, your hands travelled down his torso, and hid under his white shirt, pressing your palms onto his abs, pushing your own body harder against his.

“What should I call you then?” he whispered against your mouth, hands gripping impossibly tighter, finally gripping to your asscheeks. He had to hide a groan from the very back of his throat. “Bunny? ‘Cause you can’t deny you wanna hop on my cock?”

Now that was new.

If you were shocked, your face wouldn’t show it, but your body surely did. Your movements became sloppy, tired, and your chest moved up and down faster than ever. Luke rolled his own hips into yours, moaning uncontrollably at the feeling of his cock being constantly rubbed under your clothes pussy, and at the sight of the small wet patch you had on your underwear.

“Luke. I wanna cum” you moaned out. He liked that you didn’t warn you were going to, but you wanted to. As if you were asking for his permission.

“You won’t get off me until I cum, get it?”

He was a possessed man all of a sudden. His groans, growing deeper with every movement, his hands holding onto you for dear life and his breath twirling with yours as if you were the oxygen he needed to stay alive.

The tight feeling on your belly snapped as fast as you started to feel it. Yet you were obedient, so you kept moving.

The overstimulation was too much already, but when was gonna be the last time you would get to almost fuck Luke Castellan? Probably this time, you wouldn’t want to screw it up.

In fact, you wanted to do so much more. To suck his dick, to gag on it. To let him play with your body as much as he pleased and craved for. To let him take you anywhere and anytime he liked.

It didn’t take Luke long enough to hit his climax too, thankfully. His hips twitched against yours repeatedly as he placed his forehead on your chest. His breath was heavy as if he had run a million miles, his forehead sweaty.

Your hand reached his curls, smoothly running them down the back of his neck as if you were comforting him from the worst experience he had ever had. Little did you know this was his best so far.

“Do we-,” he cut himself off to swallow thickly. He didn’t realize how dry his throat was until he tried to speak. “Do we get to share rooms again?”

“What do you think?”

part two <3

[avelera]

Going along. with my theory that, "Both Jayce AND Viktor think the other guy is out of their league, which is why they never officially dated." I think one of the misunderstandings that keep them from hooking up sooner stems from how we, the audience, and Jayce see his first encounter with Viktor.

We, the audience, and Jayce see a sequence of events where Jayce met Viktor at his absolute lowest moment. His life's work just literally blew up in his face. Then, when he tries to pitch it to Heimerdinger he's immediately shut down, his future hopes are dashed by his expulsion from the Academy AFTER Mel goads him into talking about magic which turns the rest of the Council against him, his patron (Cassandra Kiramman) abandons him, and his mother calls him mentally unwell in front of everyone in the Council chamber and disavows what she's seen with her own eyes about the magic that has inspired him ever since.

Jayce has lost everything and is ready to end his own life in response because he sees no hope for himself, no purpose in living.

From that perspective, Viktor extending a hand, saying he believes in Jayce's work enough to dedicate his life to working alongside him, is a literal godsend. This senior classmate who is smart enough to earn a spot as the Dean's assistant throws all of that away just to give Jayce at his lowest moment his vote of confidence?

I don't think it's an understatement to say that Viktor saved Jayce's life and from that moment, the moment Viktor gives Jayce back the gem bracelet which was a symbol of Jayce's life and life's work, he is literally giving Jayce back his life and Jayce is determined to dedicate that life to saving Viktor's and making him proud with Hextech. He starts with Viktor on such a high pedestal above him as a result.

Ok, so that's all pretty obvious from the show itself. But what about Viktor's perspective?

From Viktor's perspective, Jayce saved his life, or rather, his career and all his ambitions for this world. When we meet him, Viktor had traveled as high as he can as a poor kid from the undercity, with all his disadvantages, using his own ability. He's assistant to the most powerful man (yordle) in the city on just his smarts alone. But now his life is stagnant.

His ambition was to discover a scientific innovation that would change the world and, possibly, cure himself. And here he meets this scientist, who is younger than him who through an independent study, on his own, has created the miracle which will actually transform this age. And he did it without going through the system (yes he had the Kiramman patronage but he was not telling them what he was working on), without telling anyone what he was working on, without the blessing or assistance of Heimerdinger.

Not only that, but this man is willing to stand up to the most powerful people in the city and say his research was groundbreaking. Then, when everything is stripped away from him, he's prepared to die for his convictions rather than live in a world where he can't advance his research.

I can only imagine this was incredibly humbling for Viktor, to see someone else coming up with the world's most life-changing technology while he was fussing around being an assistant. He takes the leap immediately from, again, working for the most powerful man (yordle) in the city to throwing his entire lot, his career, everything he's earned up to that point, in an all-out gamble to support the invention of Jayce's mind.

And then Jayce is generous enough to let Viktor come on board with him. To call Viktor his partner, even though he wasn't the originator of the idea (and oh BOY is that gonna become a time paradox in and of itself later, did Viktor technically originate the idea when he inspired Jayce with that stone? Where does it actually begin??). Viktor might be an assistant again, but at least he's an assistant to the most important and revolutionary work of this age.

But he doesn't see Jayce's rejection by Heimerdinger in the prison cell, or know what the strategy to survive the trial was supposed to be without the fuck-up of falling for Mel's goading, or his subsequent rejection by Cassandra Kiramman outside the gates, or his mother's rejection of the magical event they saw with their own eyes. He doesn't see Jayce's lowest moments, only the two ideological stands he took both in defending his work to the Council and being willing to die when it's taken from him.

Basically, Viktor could very well see himself as second-fiddle to Jayce in accomplishment alone, then throw in everything Jayce has just naturally, like his looks and his background, and you begin to piece together why both of them might have thought the other was out of his league, and why Viktor fought so hard to create innovations to match Jayce's, or seen himself as flawed and a work in progress until he had such independent accomplishments, and why he would hesitate to confess his feelings to Jayce until he felt he had something to offer in return, not realizing he had already given Jayce the world and literally given Jayce back his life.

[flawseer]

Your thoughts on the wof characters have been really interesting and I'd love to hear your take on Starflight (your assignment of him being the 'designated sufferer' of arc one is both hilarious and tragically accurate). I've always liked him, cowardly though he is he still acts when he really needs to and the dynamic between him and Tsunami is super fun (the whole outwardly combative but inwardly just wishing to be as strong/as smart as the other).

I like Starflight and I relate to him a lot, as a fellow chronic worrier who annoys his friends with constant blathering about stuff only I find interesting, and often finding myself paralyzed in the face of decisions.

It’s funny how the story puts forward a black dragon, which in media are usually portrayed as mysterious, ambiguously malevolent harbingers of doom, and makes him into this adorable dork.

He’s also the plot’s chew toy, which I am at times less enthusiastic about. Especially when jokes are made at the expense of his misfortune.

Wings of Night and Sea

Starflight’s and Tsunami’s friendship is very engaging because, in a sense, both of them complete each other. For each, emulating the other serves as their last resort when faced with a personal crisis. Whenever Tsunami encounters a situation she cannot overcome with her usual blunt and direct approach, she asks herself how Starflight would resolve the situation. When Starflight becomes overwhelmed and too scared to move, his mind conjures an image of the strongest, bravest, most unstoppable thing he knows, which is Tsunami. Though either would be reluctant to openly admit it to each other, they both rely on each other’s strengths to cover their own weaknesses.

Through this you get the sense that, while their opposite personalities annoy each other to no end—if you locked both of them in a room for three hours, they’d be strangling each other when you open the door again—at their core they have only the deepest respect for each other. It becomes especially apparent when you realize that both of their stories in their respective books have them compare themselves to the other unfavorably.

If these two ever did a DBZ-style fusion dance, the result would likely be one of the most capable and balanced characters in their series.

Starflight's misfortune

CW: Discussion of blindness

One thing I have noticed (and have alluded to a lot in previous posts) is that the plot really likes to kick Starflight in the teeth. His own story arc puts him through the wringer, but he is not even safe in the two arcs past that, where he is largely out of focus. Most of the things that happen to him in arc 1 seem to occur for the sake of the story, but past that... it sometimes feels to me like the world has it in for this guy.

I started writing a list of every bad thing that happens to Starflight over all three arcs, but it got way too long, so now I’m just going to talk about a few select things instead.

One thing that stands out to me is that every other protagonist in arc 1 gets a specific moment. That kind of scene where they enter their tribe’s biome for the first time or connect with a particular part of their culture/physiology, and are overcome with a sudden burst of euphoria or deep resonance with their own nature. Clay gets it when he submerges himself in mud for the first time and then later again when he finds his siblings, Tsunami when she sees and smells the ocean, Glory when she’s in the rainforest and feels the sun, and Sunny when they go through the magic tunnel and end up in the desert. Starflight is the only arc 1 protagonist who doesn’t get a moment like this; when he enters his tribe’s home for the first time it’s a giant craphole that makes him feel upset. It only gets worse from there.

Then there is the big one; the misfortune that happens to him at the end of his book. I struggle to talk about this because... uh... How do I put this?

I opened this post by saying I relate to Starflight on a personal level. I wouldn’t consider myself as studious or well-read as him, so it’s not a direct comparison, but I do like to draw, write and dabble in visual artistry. This is a major part of my life; how I define myself as a person and what I think makes me “me”. The thing about this though is that all of this is tied up into one thing: my sense of sight.

It follows then that what ends up happening to Starflight is the realization of the one thing I fear the most. Thinking about the possibility of losing ones sight is deeply, personally horrifying to me. It messes me up internally just to consider it happening to me.

This, the subject of becoming blind, is a very difficult topic for any story to properly engage with. There are many pitfalls you can fall into and come off as insensitive, or ignorant. The way Wings of Fire deals with this subject is to... well... it doesn’t really. Starflight is blinded and then the story skips over most of his reaction to it because the next POV character gets separated from the group while they sort it out.

In a way, this is a good thing. I don’t know how this series—which often rushes through these really uncomfortable, harrowing events—would be able to show a realistic reaction to this development. Like, losing ones sight would be a horrifying prospect for anyone, but for Starflight especially this completely uproots not only his entire life, but his sense of identity. Everything he likes doing, everything he is and wants to be in life is rendered virtually impossible by this.

Consider who Starflight is. He is a thinker, and a worrier who is always inside his own head. He dreads and fears, he seeks out worst case scenarios, I daresay he is inclined towards pessimism. Whenever his neuroticism gets him too stressed, or emotional, or worried, he has one immediate response: bury his nose in a scroll. When he arrives in a new place, he usually asks where the scrolls are at. When he is under threat of being abducted or attacked, his first instinct is to go grab his scrolls to keep them safe. Like with me and drawing, reading is how he unwinds, how he balances himself. It is what keeps him sane and functional through dealing with adversity (and he's Starflight, so he deals with a lot of adversity).

Then this happens to him, and suddenly the one thing that makes this poor, battered boy happy, the one thing that never hurts him, is taken away forever. If I was in his place, if I learned I was suddenly blind, I would fall apart. I would cry, then scream, then cry AND scream and probably flail around in a panic. Clay would have to hold me down and restrain me so I don’t end up falling off the platform in a frenzied fit. Or worse.

So yeah, I get why the plot had to look away. Seeing this happen to Starflight—him going through this kind of anguish and then sinking into quiet despair as his world crumbles around him—would have been heartbreaking. In the end, we go on Sunny’s solo adventure and when she returns Starflight is already conveniently past the screaming fit phase and has adjusted to his new life circumstances—enough to talk and joke as if nothing happened. He then goes on to dedicate himself to bringing the wonders of literature to other blind dragons, which is a noble goal and good trajectory for his character—even if it’s a bit abrupt and I would have liked to SEE him do that instead of just being told.

Anyway.

This next one isn’t as notable because it doesn’t happen TO him, but I want to point it out to back up my claim that Starflight Ls can and will happen even in story arcs that have very little to do with him. In book 6 Moonwatcher and Darkstalker have a conversation where they discuss the concept of Nightwing powers and how they relate to the moons. The story very pointedly draws attention to the fact that Starflight nearly was born under three full moons and would have become the most powerful Nightwing of his generation if his inept caretakers had not decided to hatch him underground. While I don’t think getting these powers would have been good for Starflight in the long run, it is a bit sad considering he spent most of his childhood thinking he was born wrong because he didn’t have powers, and then Morrowseer further gaslit him about it throughout the arc.

And then we don't talk about what happens in arc 3. I am not the right person to discuss it.

My take on Starflight

I was asked to give my take on the character, so...

I already went into how I think he’s very introspective and prone to worrying. I see him as an introvert, which is something he has in common with Glory, and contrast him with Sunny, Clay, and especially Tsunami. He enjoys reading but also other activities where he gets to use his brain. He likes puzzles; I imagine he got very excited when they had to figure out the murder plot in book 2, or when he caught Blister in a lie. If he had a computer it would be full of adventure and puzzle games, and he’d hog the resident DS to play the Professor Layton series all the time.

When they found the academy, it is implied he teaches a literacy course and gives out writing assignments. That is right up his alley, but I’ve always felt he also has strong math/natural science teacher vibes. There should logically be a numbers class at that school and I can’t imagine any other character who would be more suited to teach it.

If I were asked where I would make changes to his story, I guess I would nix the part where he and Fatespeaker hook up in book 5. I have nothing against their relationship, it’s actually grown a lot on me over time. But I never liked how it started. Starflight gets rejected by Sunny and then immediately hooks up with Fatespeaker. This is really undignified for her because it takes their potentially intriguing romantic relationship and turns her into Starflight’s “rebound chick”. You really need to give yourself some time to move on from your previous attraction; rushing like this creates doomed relationships.

The original story implies that about half a year passes between the end of arc 1 and the start of arc 2. I like to pretend this gap is actually a bit longer, by like 2 or 3 years. It gives the old protagonists a bit more time to settle into the roles they’ll occupy during the next arc, and makes it more plausible to me that they could build and outfit an entire school, write the curriculum, designate roles, etc..

In that time, with things being more calm now, Starflight has opportunity to get lost in his own thoughts again. It turns out, now that the dangers of the war are no longer distracting him, he finds it difficult to cope with his blindness and sinks into a depression.

While this happens, Fatespeaker is there with him. She sees his condition worsening by the day, but refuses to give up on him. She reads to him; they talk, and they bond. Though serious self-searching and hard work, together they manage to pull out of the darkness eventually. This is how their relationship starts, and it’s also how Starflight gets the idea to invent the dragon-equivalent of braille.

Somewhere during that time, I also imagine Glory has Tamarin escorted to Jade Mountain so she can help Starflight adjust to his new situation and learn how to navigate his life without needing to rely on others. Perhaps this is what motivates Tamarin to attend the academy later.

What else is there to say? Hmm...

I think Starflight is really fond of hard candy. Jawbreakers are his favorite especially. Though given how prone to misfortune he is in the story, I’m hesitant to put him in proximity of anything with a name like that.

[missnightshade]

❝ MY LOVE? ❞

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Requested? Yes!

Summary: Jokes about the confusing status of your friendship with Agatha unveils a newfound dynamic between the two of you.

Warnings: Fluff with a very subtle mention of smutty times (wasn't in the mood for he whole thing, sorry :c). English not being my first language.

Word count: 1.5K.

The coven gathered around Agatha’s living room. The house, after many months, was finally back together and redecorated as she enjoyed. No more of Agnes in the bits and pieces, but rather a collection of small details that exuded everything that Agatha Harkness was; a witch surviving history itself, exuberant, full of dark colors and natural particularities that danced upon shelves with pots of herbs and dried flowers, firelights with a warm yellow glow making the walls breathe as if life was given to them.

Lilia was sat at the armchair side while Billy, Jen and Alice, the later being the only one at the floor, stood across from you and Agatha, the table full of snacks and whine glasses separating you. The night of games and chattering died down slowly as a soft hum of laughs and shared conversations made space to the swift of the midnight into the dawn. Agatha was there, almost thrown against the back of the sofa as her legs were over your tights. Your hand pressed pointedly against the soft skin lf her ankles as your fingertipes traveled mindlessly up her calf.

Looking back at Agatha, recounting something you’ve heard before on your own private covenless parties when the rest was unavailable, the gleam in her eyes was almost screaming at you. Seeing her there, smiling to those same people she swore to get rid of — including yourself — made you realize again that Agatha Harkness had found her people. She was carefree. Unapologetically truthful and open with the collection of woman (and a boy) like she’d never been before. Most of them, meeting her for the first time, had a figure of her in their minds that made them suspicious while walking the road and maybe even a bit afterward. They had grown to love her just as much as she’d grown to love them in her crocked way. But not you. As unfair as it was to your own well-being, you’d trusted the goodness inside of Agatha from the first encounter, hours before entering the road. Something in her eyes glared at you then... a desperation, a seek of help that was beyond her powers. You hoped for her. Yearned to be able to see that blissful shimmering dot in her own existence come to life under the right circumstances. Back then, the recently built Coven called you empathetic, soft, and innocent. And perhaps you were full of empathy but, even then, before getting to share the moments that came to build a friendship full of beautiful moments, you knew that your heart was on a path of loving Agatha more than any of those Witches could ever love her. But as silently as the feeling came, silently you stood, enjoying what this new life gave you. What you asked for the road, itself: not being alone anymore

Teen snickered at Jen’s comment of the stain of wine on Lilia’s shirt, and as your tipsy self chocked on your own glass trying not to laugh to hard, Agatha’s body searched for yours with a playfully pat on the back.

“Careful darling. Don’t want you dying on me.”

The comment made you laugh even harder, eyes forming small droplets of tears. Her fingers gently cared for them, whipping them away. The moment stood with lightness before William’s voice erupted in the room in tangled words.

“For fuck’s sake…you too really look like a married couple.”

It was a recurrent joke inside the Coven. Even with your age gap with teen being the smallest among you all, it was not occasionally that you and Agatha would play the part of parenting him into being a young man with principals, but also a great witch. While doing so, you would partner with each other like you belonged together for that task, but a lot of others too.

You had convinced yourself that Agatha was the thing the road gave you. Even with all the other girls, she had become the most beautiful constant of your life. Where she failed, you made her succeed. Where you fell, she would be there to catch.

“Oh please. You act like you don’t know we belong together. Right, dear? ” she flattered while playfully messing around, smiling while running her fingers through your hair. If felt nice, and you grinned, gently laying your head against her hands.

Agatha looked back at you, asking for a backup as she always did. You laughed lowly.

“They don’t get it, my love.”

The whole room lost its colors. Agatha’s eyes searched for yours as if you had just pronounced a wedding vow. There was something in her eyes that no one could see. But you did. Happiness but, also, shock. You would always call each other dear, darling. But not ever the word love was used. Let alone with how your voice claimed her in the most precious way. The older witch felt her insides burning, giddiness making her shoulders bounce as her whole face flushed. Agatha could listen to her heartbeat and feel it in her bones as she tried to control her breathing. The room was not silenced as the environment that resolved around the two of you was.

Agatha, blushing and a complete mess, broke the stare contest when your smile became too much for her. And by that time, Alice was already trying to guide a drunk Lilia to the front door and into her car, while Teen promised to drive Jen back home.

“See you on Monday for potions practice!” was all you both heard from Billy as the door closed, Agatha finally getting up from the couch.

She tried to engulf herself with the task of tidying up the space, but you knew she was trying to run from being confronted by you. So, instead, with a swift motion of your hand, the magic you possessed swayed around the room, fixing everything for her. Agatha eyed you, a soft, thankful, yet guilty smile at her lips.

“You know. You also have magic. Could’ve done the same.” You raised from your place on the couch, standing face ti face to her. Agatha knew what was coming when your usual bratty smile adorned your lips. “But you rather run from me, don’t you, my love?”

She breathed out shakily, blue eyes fixed on your smaller form as if there was something painful keeping her just millimeters away from breaking the fragile wall that separated friendship and relationship. Agatha felt she could bear another heartbreak if it was with you. And you felt that Agatha could never look at you the way she was looking right now. Yet, you saw it. The longing. The fire burning inside. The small tilt to her head as she heard those words again.

“Don’t. Don’t call me that.” She said fiercely like never before. Never to you. But all her attempts of pushing you away resulted in warm hands around her face.

“Why?” Your voice traced, hazel eyes pure and lovingly, like an open door. “What if you are, indeed, my love?”

“Pretty girl…” she called ten times softer now. There was a frown between her eyebrows that only ever appeared when there was an intrinsic self-doubt. Agatha felt you there. Felt the need. The bursting of her feeling, growing tired of being kept at bay. “This…you are too precious to love me.”

“That wasn’t my question, Agatha.” You stood, hand griping the hairs on her nape, pulling her to you. Harkness eyes darkened, and she knew, there and then, that whatever distance she dreamed to keep with you, it never really existed.

She wanted to scream and cry. Love, for her, was complicated. And painful. And you weren’t any of those things. She couldn’t break you. Yet, as you held her that close, bodies flushed, the fears and restraining flew off her own road. Funny thing how the heart is such and uncontrollable little bitch, she thought while hungrily catching you into her arms as her mouth pressed to yours.

Agatha was fervent in claiming your soul as hers. It was as if her kiss, sweet and bitter with the taste wine, outlined every nuance of your existence. Her hands touched the fragile but infinitely provocative body that you hid from her sight under a vintage dress. With her palms, the witch recognized the curves that even without knowing, she had dreamed of for months. The kiss wavered between one touch or another that Agatha spread across your thighs. Your dress was lifted along with her fingers in a rhythmic rhythm that seemed more like torture than the way her lips skillfully immersed themselves in yours.

Agatha expected you to push her away, but when it was your body that pushed her onto the same couch, she knew it was over. All her carefully constructed control was over. Your gaze looked down at her with a display of longing and desire that didn’t fit the same innocence of her precious girl. Always so sweet, so untouchable. There, Agatha saw you as a woman. A beautiful woman who claimed her as she would claim you.

Maybe she could break you. As long as you intended to break her too.

[feyascorner]

jealousy looks good on you

summary. Astarion realizes you're jealous after a night out at the tavern where he must gather information from another. And him being him, teasing ensues.

warnings. fluff, idk just two idiots doing idiotic things, Tav here is good oriented, sorry to evil tav players,,,

pairing. Astarion x GN!reader

a/n. I love morons in love,,

You were not jealous. Especially not of that damned elf practically hanging off from his arm.

You'd encountered devils, walking brains, even the greatest of beasts during your adventures, yet not once have you felt nothing but utter annoyance. Like an obnoxious fly circling your head insistently no matter how much you swatted at it.

You'd never considered yourself possessive of your dearest companion. Sure, you were protective of him at times, but so were you with the rest of your group, especially knowing what each person had gone through in their lives. And while being lovers might've given an extra kick to that boundary, by no means were you excessively watching him like a hawk.

But now here you were, not watching him, but her.

Information, you remind yourself. You'd nearly forgotten why he was even tolerating her behavior in the first place, because even if he was flirtacious by nature, his tendencies narrowed down towards only you after your conversation at Moonrise. You knew he dreaded this as much as you, but the information that woman had was a must—and Astarion had insisted he could help out.

You were sincerely regretting even entertaining the idea now.

She has her chest pressed flush to the toned muscles of his arm, making sure he’s aware of what qualities she has to offer. With a bat of her lashes, she lets out a shrill laughter when he mumbles something, playfully hitting his chest as if it's the funniest thing in the world.

You’ll show her something really fucking funny at this rate—

Patience, you remind yourself. Breathe. In and out. This is unlike the qualities of a hero trying to save the city. Shooting an arrow at the woman would do nothing but cause panic. Why did you even want to get so violent in the first place? A little minor bump in the road shouldn't make you this angry, should it?

You seriously don't want to watch anymore—especially when he leans toward her to whisper something in her ear and she lets out that rage-inducing giggle again—so you down the rest of your alcohol and run a hand down your face.

You don't notice his eyes glancing at you every few moments, too busy calming your nerves.

A few minutes later, you hear the scrape of his chair pushing back and a rush of relief floods you when you see him stand, face content in a way that tells you the mission was successful. You thank the Gods above because any more of this and you certainly would've committed some sort of crime-

The woman takes his hand, shaking her head before giving him a sly smile. The breaths you took earlier seem to have no effect the second she motions towards the door, her fingers still wrapped around his hand like a death sentence.

You should trust him, you think.

He's had more experience in this than anyone else.

You can't see his expression, but the second you see hers drop, you're suddenly moving across the entire tavern. He whips around when he hears your steps and the relief on his face almost calms you. Almost.

“Hello, dear,” you accentuate. And though your eyes are trained on his, you're more focused on the woman from your side view. “Ready to leave? Sorry I had to catch up with a friend earlier.”

He raises a brow for a moment, and you suspect it’s because you were never supposed to even be in the plan. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze and look away, embarrassed to have let your emotions alter the mission so much—but he seems more than pleased. In fact, the bastard grins.

“Yes, my love,” he snickers, snatching his arm away from the woman and looping the other around the waist. “Let us hurry. I cannot stand another moment being unable to ravage you under such—prying eyes.”

Somehow, your face gets hotter.

Before the woman can respond (though you doubt she even wanted to), he's leading you out the tavern into the cold air of the streets for a much needed breather on your part. You're almost certain you won't be going to that tavern for a while.

“‘My dear’?” he mimics, his lips stretching wider. “I’d believed I was the one with pet names in our relationship. You'd seemed quite adamant on calling me by my given name after all. Had a change of heart?”

Your voice is a mumble as you retort. “Must be the alcohol.”

“Really? Because if I didn't know any better, and I do,” he stops the two of you around the corner of the building in an isolated spot, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’d think you were jealous back there, darling.”

“I was just worried about you,” you blurt in a hurry. “Otherwise I wouldn't have butt in and—”

“Oh, my sweet sweet love,” he laughs. “I could feel you glaring from across the building. And I'm sure I could've sworn to see you slam your goblet a few times. No need to be ashamed. Jealousy is quite normal, and I'm more than flattered.”

“I’m not—” you begin, but her face flashes in your mind again. The way she'd touched his arms, his chest, and you knew she'd never know him the way you do. But it didn't quell the annoyance flickering in your chest. He raises a brow expectantly for your answer, and you quietly lift your hand to his arm, dusting it off.

Dusting her off.

And finally, you accept it. “I’m going to burn those clothes.”

He snorts. “I’m sure there's more romantic ways of getting me naked, but this’ll have to do for now.”

“I will. Then I’ll bury the ashes somewhere.”

“Charming.”

You look at him, disappointed—not in him, but yourself. Before you can drown in your own thoughts, he lifts his fingers to caress your face, smiling. “There really was no need to be jealous, darling.”

“I know,” you mutter. “I just—seeing her practically begging for your attention pissed me off.”

“And there's the difference between you and her. If it's worth even comparing at all,” he says, planting a peck to your forehead. “She begs a hopeless cause while I beg for you.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “You don't need to beg me for attention.”

“I’m aware. I know how much you're fond of me and my gorgeous eyelashes.” You sigh at this. “But I must admit that a selfish part of me is a bit pleased by your reaction to that vile woman.”

“Why? This feels horrible.”

“Well, now you get a taste of what I want to do when I see you with that damned cleric,” he groans at the thought. “Yes, I am aware you two are the giddiest of friends, but whenever she puts her hands all over you for the sake of healing—”

You burst into a fit of laughter. “How else is she supposed to help?”

“I’m sure she can heal you from a safe distance away. Preferably twelve feet. Maybe more.”

Wordlessly, you calm your smile and press your lips to his, your fingers running through white curls. He holds you like you’re made of glass, gently.

The kiss is soft, even as you finally pull away. “Stupid vampire.”

“Silly darling.”

You don't complain when he pulls you closer for one last kiss.

[vivwritesfics]

Frat Lando (and Max) request. Maybe after that first encounter between Lando and y/n, she gets pissed at him, because he starts ignoring her and acts like it didn't happen. She confronts him and tells him it was a mistake. He laughs at her and said she'd be right back on her knees the second he wanted. So then later, he somehow wins her over again, and this time he invites Max in the room. Max is sitting in the corner watching. First, Lando makes her kiss and feel his biceps, and he makes her tell Max how nice they are, and then the same with his abs, and then he has her suck him off again. This time, after the blowjob, Lando has her get on her hands and knees facing Max, and he fucks her from behind and tells her to tell Max how good he feels and how big his cock is, etc. etc. I'm not sure on Max's reaction, but maybe he's enjoying it all and pleasuring himself (if you want). Ahhhhhhh!! Also, thank you for all your writing!!

this one spoke to me as the second part of frat - ps i can't work in any of the muscle and ab licking into this

warnings: smut, p in v, oral (male!receiving, twice), creampie, lowkey toxic lando (if i've missed any let me know pls)

sitting around and bragging about the things they had done, the girls they had been with. it was normal, sitting around with pizza and beer while they did their bragging.

the second carlos had finished bragging about his threesome, max turned his attention to lando. "what about the little mouse you had over a few days ago?" he asked and all attention turned to lando.

lando smirked and pulled his beer bottle away from his lips. "she came to help me with my essay and i got her on her fucking knees," he said and someone whooped and hollered. "i can get her to do anything i want her to."

the look max wore matched lando's, but his eyes held challenge. a challenge lando was ready to accept, no matter what it was. "prove it," he said and lando leaned forward, holding out his hand.

max took it, shaking. "deal," lando said and pulled out his phone.

***

she shouldn't have been back there, back in this house. last time she'd ended up on her knees, literally worshipping lando's dick. it was humiliating, and it had heat pooling in her stomach, wetness in her underwear.

once again she stood with lando's housemate, max. she didn't know max all that well, and had only met him a few times before. "back again, little mouse?" he asked, looking at her in the way a wolf watches its prey.

she wasn't to know that max's grin had purpose. she was back, proving to him that lando could literally get her to do anything. fuck, he couldn't wait to see it in action.

she swallowed, opening her mouth to answer him. yes, she was back again. but she was back to put a stop to her tutoring. she wasn't going to get on her knees for him again. she wasn't going to get onto her knees for him again. she wasn't going to get on her knees for him again.

"oh good," came lando's voice from the top of the stairs. "you're here." he wore that same grin that had her charmed in the first place, but she wasn't going to let it get to her this time. "come on up."

originally, she wasn't going to go up to his bedroom again. that wouldn't lead anywhere good. she was going to stay by the door and insist that he talk to her down there.

but then max's hand was on her back, pushing her towards the stairs. she swallowed but climbed the stairs, max close behind her, as if he was going to follow her into lando's room. her knees were weak with trepidation, excitement.

when she got into lando's room, lando took her hand and led her into his room. when max didn't follow, she tried not to be disappointed. he kept going, walking into his own room.

"hi gorgeous," lando said once he shut the door.

she crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him, trying to keep her gaze firm. but the moment his fingers brushed over her cheek and pushed her hair back, she was ready to drop to her knees once again. it was pathetic but, you know what, she didn't care.

"i missed you," he said and she moved away from him. she had to remain strong, had to call this off before it happened again. "you looked so pretty on your knees for me the other day. 'wanna see it again, baby."

the noise that left her throat was pathetic. shit, she didn't mean to do that. her hand immediately came up to cover her mouth but, by the way lando was looking at her, he definitely heard.

he grabbed her hands and pulled them away from her mouth. "c'mere," he said and pulled her towards him.

his mouth was on hers and he turned them around, pushing her against the door. his leg immediately went between her legs, pressing against her. no, she wanted to say. she wanted to push him away, to tell him she's done, and storm off.

but she was putty in his hands.

lando kissed down her neck. he let go of her hands long enough to pop the first few buttons of her shirt. he kissed lower and lower until his lips were against the lace of her bra. "this is pretty," he mumbled. "did you put it on just for me?"

she whined against him, moving herself in just the right away. he'd pulled her skirt away from her body, leaving nothing but her underwear between her and lando's jeans.

his fingers pulled down the zip of her skirt. lando pulled away from her and she let out a whine, one that had him smirking into her mouth. he was loving every second of this.

once he had her in her in nothing but her lacy underwear, he pulled away to admire her. "c'mere, baby," he said, taking her hands and pulling her away from the door. "on your knees," he said and she did just that, getting onto the hard wood of the floor in the middle of his bedroom.

she waited patiently.

instead of paying her the attention she desperately wanted, lando pulled open the door and left the room. if she wasn't pathetic and desperate for his dick, she would have gotten up, gotten dressed and walked out of the frat house for good.

but she didn't. she stayed on the floor, waiting for him to come back.

"i'm telling you, man," she heard as the door opened again. "on her knees for me."

he walked in with max just behind him. max, who's eyes went wide when he looked at her. she couldn't meet either of their gaze. well, couldn't until lando grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. "she's pretty, isn't she?"

max crouched in front of her. his thumb touched her bottom lip, pulling it down. "so pretty, little mouse," he whispered and stood up. "but this doesn't prove shit, norris."

lando pushed him out of the way. "you know what to do," he said to her.

she unbuttoned his jeans and freed him from his boxers. she wrapped her lips around his tip. he gripped her hair and pushed himself in. "see?" he said, hips immediately moving, fucking into her mouth.

he ignored her completely, and that only made her wetter. "okay, point proven," said max, sitting back in lando's desk chair. it was sloppy and messy and the sight was enough to have max stirring in his trousers.

her eyes were shut and drool ran down her chin. lando pulled her off of him and gripped her chin, turning her to face max. "go on, mouse. tell him exactly how much you loved it."

sucking in gulps of breath, she focused on max. between breaths, she told him how much she loved it, told him how big lando was, how his tip touched the back of her throat.

"hands and knees, gorgeous," he said. she did just that, got onto her hands and knees with lando behind her. her eyes blinked up at max, arching her back as lando pulled off her underwear. "fuck, man. she's so fucking wet."

"i bet she is," max replied. he kept staring at her, reaching out to brush his hand through his hair, fixing it slightly.

a whine left her lips as lando touched her, fingers ghosting over her folds. he held her hips steady as he pushed through her folds, entering her.

immediately his pace was brutal, her body bouncing forward with every thrust. "you said that mouth was good?" max asked as he pulled himself from his jeans.

it took some coaxing to get her to open her mouth for him. with lando behind her, it was hard to concentrate on anything else. but she opened up and max pushed himself inside of her lips, fingers scratching comfortingly at her scalp.

the way lando moved her had her deepthroating max instantly. "shit, little mouse," he groaned, throwing his head back. unlike lando, he didn't thrust into her mouth. he kept himself still, allowed her to move against him.

she wasn't choking on him, because he was gentle.

when lando sped up, she pulled her mouth off of max and released a thigh against his thick thigh. a string of noises left her lips and she tried to wrap her fingers around him. but it was a struggle and max pulled his hands to her lips, kissing the back of it. "it's okay, little mouse," he said gently. "i've got it."

he worked himself as lando fucked her, wrapping his arms around her middle to pull her flush against him. his thrusts sped up just slightly until he stilled against her, holding her still as he came in her.

max let his hand move faster. she looked so pretty, all fucked out with her head on his thigh. "shit, little mouse," he whispered, "open wide for me."

she didn't know how she had the energy to obey him, but she did. she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. max spilled onto her tongue and she swallowed down everything she gave him. "shit," he gasped, and quickly stuffed himself back inside of his jeans.

he looked past her, looked at lando. "you use protection?" he asked and lando shook his head.

"you should see it." he grinned, holding her thighs apart to watch himself dribble out of her. "it's a fucking site."

but max was more concerned with pulling her close and kissing her head sweetly. "let's get you cleaned up, little mouse," he whispered and pulled her to her shaking legs.

a/n: you guys know i want all the frat!au stuff

[lovegoodlane]

Pursuing the Prefect - 2

3.6k words

18+ only

Warnings: sexual content, teasing, oral sex [male receiving]

Summary: Fred continues to try to woo his favorite prefect, but he doesn't expect her to reciprocate his teasing (shy Fred, sub (kind of) Fred)

I intended for the last part to be a one-shot, but it was more popular than I expected. Here is a part two -- there might be more!

Link to part 1

----

It was Monday morning, and you had realized over the weekend that you still had Fred's scarf. After your encounter with him on Saturday night, you were keen on keeping your distance. You weren't just going to run into his arms, you were too stubborn for that. He was going to have to work for it.

In typical Monday fashion, you got dressed and gathered your backpack before heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. This would be the first time that you had been in the same room as Fred since Saturday, and the thought made your stomach dance with nervous butterflies.

You had told Beatrice about your semi-hook up with Fred, but you had kept the information from Cho. You knew that she was only going to judge you and advise you not to associate with someone like Fred. You had no need for advice like that.

As you took your seat at breakfast, you noticed that a certain ginger was absent. His twin was at the Gryffindor table, talking animatedly about something with a group of younger students. They were almost always together, and this immediately struck you as strange.

You tried not to think about it, hurriedly eating your breakfast so you could get to Potions early. You had a question about the assignment that was given over the weekend, and you intended to ask Snape about it before class began.

"I'll see you later," you said to your group before departing. You looked around for Fred again, but he still wasn't in the Great Hall.

You stepped into the hallway, adjusting your leather backpack on your shoulders as you turned to head toward the Potions classroom. As you passed an empty classroom, someone grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside.

You let out a small shriek, obviously startled. Standing in front of you was Fred Weasley, red hair perfectly tousled and a bouquet of wildflowers in his hands. His black eye was still visible, but it was less prominent than before. 

"Sorry to startle you, birdie," he said, a grin finding its way to his lips. "I went out this morning to pick these for you."

He handed you the wildflowers, the same soft look in his eye that was present on Saturday night. You took the bouquet, unable to suppress your own smile. That's why he wasn't at breakfast.

"Thank you, Weasley," you said, inspecting the flowers. They were still wet with morning dew and a bit wilted, as the fall weather did not lend itself well to flourishing botanicals.

"I wanted to walk you to class this morning," he said, taking a step closer to you.

"Sure, but that doesn't make you my boyfriend," you replied, reminding him of your relationship. Or rather, your lack thereof. 

"I know, darling," he said, finally close enough to put his arms around your waist. "I know that you're stubborn. But you will be mine, I promise."

You set the flowers on a nearby desk, placing your own hands on his shoulders and running them upwards to lace into his hair. You stared at each other for a few moments, taking each other in.

You loved the way he looked in his uniform. His Gryffindor tie was always just a tad crooked, but you found it endearing. He looked rather preppy with his sweater on today underneath his robes. You pictured Fred in a pair of a nerdy glasses for a moment, causing a giggle to escape your lips.

"Is something funny, birdie?" he asked, pulling you closer so he could talk right into your ear.

"Just thinking about how devastatingly sexy you would look in a pair of wide-rimmed glasses," you teased, standing on your toes to place a kiss on his neck. You lingered just long enough to sink your teeth into his sensitive skin.

You pulled back for a moment, taking in his expression. His cheeks were red, his mouth parted just a tad. Fred Weasley....blushing? That was a sight you had never seen before.

This only encouraged you to continue the teasing. He had done the same to you, so why not return the favor?

"Does someone like dirty talk?" you asked, your voice velvety and seductive. You slipped your hand down to his neck, gripping his throat lightly. "Naughty boy."

You could feel Fred gulp, your hand still wrapped around his throat. You had him right where you wanted him.

"Actually, I think I can walk myself to class this morning," you said. You released your hand from its place on his neck, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips before grabbing the flowers from the desk where you had put them earlier. He was still standing there in shock as you headed for the door.

"Thanks for the flowers, Freddie," you said sweetly, tossing him one last glance over your shoulder before departing.

Fred was frozen where he stood. The two of you had a teasing relationship, but most of the teasing came from his end. You would simply resist, making it even more entertaining for him. But now you were the aggressor. And he loved it.

He was accustomed to taking the lead in his relationships. Fred had always been relatively dominant, but things with you were different. It felt like a power struggle. It was exciting and unpredictable.

Fred finally snapped back to reality, feeling momentarily embarrassed as he stood alone in the empty classroom. You had managed to slip through his fingers this time, but he was determined to get you back.

----

It was Wednesday evening. The week had gone by in a similar fashion to all of the others. You spent your evenings in the library with your friends, staying on top of the numerous assignments you had for the week. Your grades were something that really mattered to you, and you were determined to be at the top of your class.

It was your turn to make prefect rounds on Wednesday nights. It was only for an hour from 9-10pm, and you enjoyed the relatively peaceful time that you spent walking around the castle. Students were rarely misbehaving at this time, but you would have to write someone up every once in a while. 

Most of the hour had passed by without incident until you heard a bang come from down the hallway. It made you jump, but soon enough you were walking in the direction of the noise.

"Hey, who's there?" you called down the dim hallway, your feet carrying a quick pace as you went to investigate. 

You reached the set of stairs that led up to the astronomy tower. At the bottom of the stairs was a  neatly folded piece of paper. You picked it up, curious as to what it could be.

The stars are gorgeous tonight, but not as gorgeous as you.

You blushed as you read the note. You recognized the handwriting as Fred's instantly. You had tutored him for a year, so you had become familiar with his messy print. 

You began to ascend the stairs, knowing that Fred would be in the tower waiting for you. He loved surprising you, and he was unexpectedly thoughtful. You loved that about him.

You finally reached the top. Fred was stood by the edge of the tower, leaning against the stone ledge to look out at the sky. You stood there for a moment, watching him without his knowledge.

He looked peaceful. The moonlight lit his fiery hair with silver streaks. You noticed that his tie was missing, likely discarded once classes were over. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone, showing more of his collarbone than usual. 

Seeing him like this was enough to make your whole body tingle. You wished you didn't react this way, but you couldn't help it. He was gorgeous. 

You cleared your throat, signaling to him that he wasn't alone. He turned to look at you, his gaze gentle. He motioned for you to join him. 

You approached him, settling in next to him as you placed your hands on the tall ledge. You looked out at the sky, taking in the view from the tower. He was right, the stars were gorgeous. 

You both stood in silence for a few minutes, but it was comfortable. Neither of you felt the need to disrupt the moment. You were enjoying the view and being in each other's presence.

You saw Fred angle his body toward you out of the corner of your eye. 

"How's my favorite prefect this evening?" he asked, a cheeky grin crossing his face. 

You turned to him, leaning your hip against the ledge. "I don't know, seems like I need to write up a certain student for trespassing in the astronomy tower after hours."

You returned his grin, knowing how much he enjoyed your banter. He stepped closer to you, running a finger under your chin.

"Is there anything I can do to convince her not to?" he asked, using his finger to angle your chin upward so you had to look into his eyes.

"We'll see," you teased, narrowing your eyes at him. 

Fred let out a light chuckle, and his other hand wrapped around your waist and landed on the small of your back. He pulled you in, kissing you on the lips.

Your hands rested on his chest, eventually pulling at his collar as you continued kissing. It was slow and gentle, and he wasn't rushing you to go any further.

You finally pulled apart, looking at each other in the moonlight. Even with the limited light, you could make out his slightly rosy cheeks and pink lips. You brought your thumb up to trace his bottom lip, giggling at him.

"Has anyone told you how pretty you are?" you asked, admiring him openly.

Fred's cheeks darkened, making you giggle even more. 

"What, do you not like when I hit on you?" you teased, pulling your hand from his face to place it on his shoulder. 

Fred's response was to pull you in for another kiss. Sweet and slow, much like the ones you had shared moments before. 

"You're quite cheeky, aren't you?" he finally said, resting his chin on the top of your head. He still had his arms wrapped around you, and you leaned into his chest.

"I'm not as bad as I used to be," you admitted. "My mum couldn't stand my mouth when she still lived with us. She said that my thoughts came right out of my mouth instead of going to my brain."

"I think your mouth is smashing," Fred replied. He took a moment to think about what he had said, then pushed you back by your shoulders to look at you as he realized the innuendo.

"Not what I meant," he said, letting out an awkward chuckle. You giggled at his embarrassment.

"I know, Fred," you said, grinning at him. You pulled out of the semi-embrace, turning back to look out at the sky.

You felt him lingering next to you, seeming to hesitate on what to do next. He decided to turn to the stars as well.

"Are you close with your mum?" he asked, sounding shy.

"No," you huffed out almost too quickly. "She left my dad and I when I was ten. Something about  the 'wizarding life' not suiting her. I found out later that she was cheating on my dad and moved to America with her Muggle boyfriend. I haven't seen her since."

Fred took a moment to absorb the information, considering how to proceed since he knew the topic was likely sensitive. 

"Are you close with your dad then?" he followed up.

"Very," you answered. "He went to Hogwarts and was a Ravenclaw too. He works in a potions lab, he grows all of their ingredients. He was hoping that I would like Herbology, but it's not really my thing."

"Does it get boring with just the two of you?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious.

"Not really," you replied, turning your head to look at him. "I used to wish that I had siblings, but it would just make our situation harder. My dad has had to raise me mostly by himself, having another child would have had him too knackered to balance work with taking care of us."

Fred looked at you, admiring your openness. You had never talked like this before. Your conversations had always been rather surface-level, but this was deeper. It felt good to connect with him.

"I bet your house is pretty quiet," he said. "My house feels like a madhouse sometimes. My brothers are always wrestling and Ginny is usually complaining about something."

"Do you like it though? Having so many siblings?" you asked.

"I suppose it's alright. I don't know any different. And my parents are so in love that it's sickening," Fred jokingly scrunched his face in disgust.

You giggled. "It's cute that they're still keen on each other," you said, nudging his shoulder with your own.

"I guess," he shrugged. "They're always up my arse about my marks and what I'm going to do after Hogwarts. George too. They make it sound like we're daft. My mum expects all of us to be just like Percy. Perfect Percy."

"I don't think you're daft," you said, linking your arm around his and leaning your head against his shoulder. 

"Thanks," Fred replied, adjusting so his arm wrapped around you instead. "Seems like the whole school thinks I am."

"Fred, that's ridiculous. You're allowed to feel that way, but it's simply not true," you argued. It hurt to hear that he felt like he wasn't smart enough. You knew that Fred wasn't incredibly focused on his studies, but that didn't mean that he wasn't intelligent.

"People like me because of my pranks. I'm good for a laugh, but that seems to be about it," he said. He sounded so small and defeated.

You turned your head just enough so you could look him in the eye. He was averting your gaze, opting to look at the sky instead.

"Look at me, Freddie," you said, your voice firm but kind. He finally met your eyes reluctantly.

"You are incredibly clever. Coming up with your own pranks takes detailed planning, and I can't imagine that it's easy. Your friends adore you. First years are chuffed when you even look their way," you told him, meaning every word. "But you're also genuine. And you're kind, and patient, and considerate. You're so much more than I knew you were, and I'm gutted that it took this long for me to get to know you."

Fred held your gaze as you rambled on. You saw that familiar look in his eye, the softness that was mixed with something deeper. Adoration, maybe? You weren't quite sure.

He was once again left without words, simply staring at you once you were finished talking. You felt embarrassed for a moment, afraid that you revealed too much of how you felt. Your stomach felt like it was sinking to the floor as he just stood there.

Fred finally moved, grabbing both of your hands in his. He maintained eye contact.

"Birdie, you're...Merlin, I don't know how to put it into words," he said, shaking his head at himself. 

"Then don't," you said softly.

He pulled your hands so your arms wrapped around him, drawing you in to his chest. He kissed you, a delicate kiss at first. He bit at your bottom lip, causing a soft moan to escape your lips. 

That was all he needed to lift you up, earning a giggle of surprise from you. You wrapped your legs around him, and he supported you by holding your bottom. He kept kissing you, pressing your back against the closest wall.

The cold stone caused goosebumps to erupt across your back, but in this moment, you didn't mind. Fred's kisses became more fervent, your teeth almost clashing as you both fought for the upper hand. 

He had you pinned against the wall for at least five minutes. You pushed at his shoulders, causing him to pull out of the kiss. He looked at you, his eyebrows bent in confusion.

"Put me down, please," you requested, a nonchalance in your voice. Fred complied, carefully adjusting you so your feet finally touched the ground.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt, spinning around so you forced him up against the wall. Still gripping his collar, you pulled him down into another kiss. Your hands found his belt, and you paused.

"Is this alright?" you asked.

"Please," he answered, sounding breathless. A smug grin crept across your face. You were proud of the effect you were having on him. 

You resumed your kissing, working on his belt. Your kisses migrated down to his jaw, nipping at his jawline. You had always loved his jawline. You had heard other girls joke that it was sharp enough to cut something.

You finally got his belt free, tossing it to the side with a clank. Your hands ran up his chest, nails scratching along the material of his shirt. Fred let out a throaty sound, something between a groan and a whine. 

You kissed down to his neck, nipping at his ear.

"Fuck, birdie," he whispered in response. 

You started fiddling with the button of his trousers, struggling for a moment before getting it open. You pulled away from him, once again checking for his approval.

"Tell me when to stop," you said, echoing the very words he had said to you a few nights ago.

"Please don't," he replied, hands gripping at your hips desperately. 

"I've never heard so many 'please's come from you," you teased, biting at his neck again.

"Anything for you, darling," he said, his voice sultry. That was enough to send a tingle down your spine. 

You tugged at his trousers, pulling them down. You kept kissing his neck, finding a spot along his collarbone to leave a love bite. It was revenge for the marks he had left on you. 

Your hands danced down to his hips, unbuttoning his shirt from bottom to top. You looked at him for a moment, admiring your work. Fred was breathing hard, his pupils blown wide with arousal. He looked....hungry.

You dropped to your knees, earning a quiet "fuck" from Fred. You felt momentarily nervous, insecure about your "talents". You and Adrian had hooked up many times, and you were no stranger to blowjobs. But Adrian was your first and your only. This was someone new.

You snapped yourself out of it, dragging your nails along the waistband of Fred's boxers. There was already a prominent bulge from your efforts, and you silently commended yourself. 

You placed a kiss along his abs over the fabric of his undershirt. You worked your way down, kissing until you were at his waistband once again. You peered up at him, taking in his flushed cheeks and desperate expression. And what did you do? You grinned up at him and winked.

Fred groaned, covering his face with his hand. You laughed at him, running your nails along his thighs. You knew that this teasing was making him miserable. You had your fun, now it was time to put him out of his misery.

You grabbed for his waistband, pulling down his boxers in one smooth motion. You gulped as you took in the sight before you. You had assumed that Fred would be big; he was a tall person, after all. You had also heard rumblings from girls who had hooked up with Fred. But this...definitely more than you were expecting. 

You took a breath, gripping him with one hand and supporting yourself against his thigh with the other. You began to pump him, slowly working him up to a faster pace. 

After a minute, you had Fred groaning and gripping at your hair. You dared to tease him once more, darting your tongue out to tease his tip. 

"Fuck," he muttered, nails digging into your scalp.

Your tongue danced in circles around his tip, eventually making stripes down to his base. You still hadn't put him into your mouth, and you knew this was killing him.

"Are you going to say please?" you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"Birdie, you've got to be....oh fuck," he said breathily. You had continued teasing him with your tongue, interrupting his response.

"Please," he begged, sounding pathetic. That was what you had been waiting for. 

You finally took him into your mouth. You started with the tip at first, using one hand to work the rest of him while the other played with his balls. You worked your way down slowly, taking in more of him inch by inch.

Fred's groans were turning into whimpers, and if your mouth wasn't previously engaged, you would definitely be smirking. His nails continued to dig at your scalp, mussing your tidy hair. 

You worked your way down to his base at last, fighting against your instinct to gag. You picked up your pace, causing various profanities to fall from Fred's mouth.

"Fuck, I'm going to...you should stop," he breathed out, pulling hard at your hair. 

You peered up at him, determination in your eyes. There was no backing down now. He met your gaze, understanding what your intentions were. 

Fred finally released, a groan coming out of his mouth that he tried to suppress by biting his lip. You worked him down slowly, pulling him out of your mouth. You looked right into his eyes as you swallowed. 

His jaw dropped just slightly, his mouth just barely agape as he took in the sight before him. You were doing your own admiring, enjoying your view from your place on your knees. His chest was heaving, cheeks red. You could tell he had a lean build underneath his undershirt, and you were looking forward to taking that shirt off of him. Another time.

You helped him find his boxers and trousers, dressing himself as you got up from your knees. You brushed them off, feeling the indents from the stone floor in your knees. Worth it.

Fred had just finished slipping his belt through the loops of his trousers when you grabbed at his wrists. You puckered your lips at him playfully. He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your lips.

"Do you still think that my mouth is smashing?" you teased, grabbing at his sides to pull yourself into him. 

"Absolutely smashing, birdie," he replied, chuckling again before giving you another kiss. 

----

Link to next part

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hi! It's me again! 🤗

I was reading about the awful things that happened to Aegon in the brothel. Him so desperately trying to be taken care of and only finding more abuse broke my heart 🥺 and also got me thinking... What if he doesn't have a good, loving wife to make it all better? 😭 What if instead, one of the workers (Reader) finally takes pity on him and treats him the way he needs so much? Taking him away from the awful workers and under her wing? I imagine he would become instantly addicted. Never letting other worker touch him again. Only accepting her services. I bet he would get possessive as well. Paying an enormous amount of gold to be the only one that can touch her.

Do you think he would dare bring her to live in the castle? Or even more scandalous, actually MARRY her? Or he would be too scared of his pious mother's reaction (as well as the rest of the kingdoms') to a whore becoming queen? There is also the possibility of him just gifting her a big house with servants, close to the castle, so he can visit whenever he wants needs... Sooooo many possibilities! 😳

What do you think?

Oh my god. Are you sure you don't want to take over this blog because this is INCREDIBLE??? I am obsessed. I actually think I'm gonna tag this with 'subby Aegon!au' so that we can discuss this more and you guys can easily use the tag to find everything about this because I fear this may be my new obsession.

Anyway, NSFW sub!aegon that starts very angsty but has a happy ending under the cut!!

So for anyone who missed the post that inspired this, we were discussing how Aegon would know he was a submissive and go to a brothel to submit to the workers there. He desperately wants to just be loved and cared for and feel like a good boy but none of the workers will do that and he doesn't quite have the language to explain what he wants/needs. So instead he just ends up going through all this abuse and humiliation and degradation just to hear them say he did well at the end. He always goes into subdrop afterwards and he feels so terrible but he also can't stop going because it's the only time that he actually feels like he's good enough.

For this AU, I think it makes the most sense that you first encounter Aegon after he's had a scene with someone else? Cause Aegon always pays very VERY well and so the brothel workers who have dominated him always ensure that no one else can lay with him because they want all that money? Like maybe the madam of the brothel you work at has a very strict rule that no one other than her is allowed to lay with the king. Of course there's plenty of rumours going around the brothel about what he likes he and pretty much everyone knows that the madam dominates him.

You first encounter Aegon after he finished a particularly brutal scene with the madame. Half an hour later when the madam wants to use that room again he's still laying there? He hasn't even gotten dressed, is just laying there with a thin blanket wrapped around himself.

The madam does not want to deal with him because she knows from experience that he gets all clingy and weepy after a scene and so she sends you in to kick him out. Well, she tells you to kick him out.

But then you walk in and he just... he looks so small? You slowly walk over and gently place your hand on his shoulder. He jumps up and scrambles off the bed, mumbling apologies because he knows the madam told him to leave and he still hadnt.

You quickly tell him it's alright, that he's done nothing wrong and the look he gives you is just so heartbreaking? He's all wide eyed and shocked and there's a very very small smile on his face when he whispers, "Really? I... you're sure? I'm good?"

Which, yeah there's no way you're kicking him out now. You help him get back into his clothes and then take him to your private room. The rule is supposed to be no clients in the personal quarters, but this is quite literally the king so you don't see anyone complaining.

You keep an arm wrapped around his waist, guiding him like that and he just leans against you? You can't believe that the madam doesn't stay with him after she dominates him, especially because he's just so sweet? He's leaning against you, mumbling thanks and letting you lead him without complaint. He's so sweet and vulnerable and you can't believe the madam would leave him and not care for him.

He's so shocked when he finds himself in your private quarters, and he's even more surprised when you wet a rag and gently clean the tears off his face. He leans into every one of your touches, trying to soak up as much attention as he can.

You ask him if you can undress him again so you can clean him properly, and he just starts sobbing and throws himself in your arms because he can't believe how lucky he is. You just hold him and tell him that he's doing so good, that you just want to get him cleaned up a little more and then he can take a nice nap with you.

He closes his eyes and cries silently as you clean him. There are welts on his back from the madam's whip so you have to ensure you clean them properly or risk infection. You expect to have to clean dried cum from between his thighs but to your surprise there's nothing?

When you ask, he just wines and mumbles, "Wasnt good, couldnt cum" which just breaks your heart because you refuse to entertain any possibility that this sweet little thing wasnt absolutely perfect.

You finish cleaning him and you're about to help him get his clothes back on when he just kinda collapses onto the bed. You don't even bother with that then and instead you just get into bed with him.

"Come here," you tell him, opening your arms and he immediately dives right in. You hold him tight and when you press a kiss to the e top of his head he just melts into you.

When he wakes, he's hard. He tries to apologise for it but you won't hear it, and you ask if you can help him. He tries to shake his head and say that he can't go through that again, but then you interrupt him and promise him that you only mean helping him cum and do nothing else.

He's so sweet when you stroke him, mumbling how good it feels and begging to cum and after he does, he even takes your hand and licks it clean? He's just the bed boy and he's clearly trying so so hard to please you, so you make sure to praise him constantly because the poor thing deserves it.

The next time he comes to the brothel, he tells the madam to get lost and asks for you. He won't even consider another, not after you cared for him and praised him and made him feel safe. Of course the madam is not happy about this, but she cant stop him and so he goes to the room and waits for you.

When you walk in and ask why he's asked for you, he just says that he really liked you from before. And then he actually looks nervous? Like you might tell him that he has to go back to the madam.

You tell him that as much as you'd love to, you can't do what the madam does to him. You explain that you can't degrade him or slap him or anything like that. But then he just smiles even wider and tells you he doesn't want that, he just wants what you did last time.

He seems all blushy and nervous and there's a very obvious tent in his breeches. You smirk then and say, "Aw, do you want me to take care of you? Yeah? Let me do all the thinking and you can just be my pretty good boy?"

Instantly he's slipping from the bed and down onto his knees, kneeling and nodding comically quick because yes. That's everything he's ever wanted and more.

And he's just so good for you? He listens to every single order, and he begs so prettily and his sounds are just insane. When it's over, you pull him into your chest and kiss his head and tell him he did so so well for you. He's just on cloud nine, because this is absolutely everything he's ever wanted and more.

When he leaves, he pays you double what he pays the Madam and when you tell him that's too much, he says that there's no amount of gold in the world that could be enough to thank you for how you looked after him. He asks if he can come back, if you'll let him do that again and of course you agree to let him.

The madam isnt happy with you of course, but she can't exactly force the king to lay with her instead. For about three weeks things continue like that, with Aegon visiting every few days and paying you very very handsomely. He always stays for a few hours after this, just getting cuddles and kisses.

After a while, the madam comes to you and is unhappy that Aegon will not be with anyone else. Aegon pays very handsomely and he also lets them basically beat him up, so of course the madam is unhappy that she no longer get aegon's time. Aegon, meanwhile, will not even look at another.

The next time Aegon comes to the brothel, you're with another client? As much as you wish that you could just see Aegon, if you did that then the madam would kick you out. The madam is overjoyed when Aegon walks in and you're with another client, because it means she can swoop in and tell Aegon you're busy but that she'd be more than happy to do it instead.

And Aegon just... he knew that obviously you had other clients, but knowing and actually being there while you were with someone else are two different things. His smile falls instantly, and he says that he doesn't want anyone else. The madam tries again, maybe even touching him and telling him to think about all the good times they had, which prompts him to stumble backwards and very firmly say that he won't be seeking the services of anyone else.

He ends up leaving the brothel and then comes back the following night and is so so relieved to find that you are free. He's much more whiney and clingy than you're used to, to the point where he cries if you even let go of his hand. You end up having to pull away o ask what's going on, because he seems very distressed. You hadnt seen him like that since you took care of him that first night.

He gets quiet and then eventually asks how many other men you see every day. You sigh, because you knew this question was coming and you're not sure what to say to him. You end up just saying that this is your job, and that the madam is already upset with you for being the only one he goes to so you can't risk only seeing him because then you'd almost certainly be kicked out of the brothel entirely and have no wear to live.

Before you had even finished speaking Aegon had already made up his mind to give you enough gold that you never have to be with anyone else. You try to tell him that's not necessary, but for him it absolutely is. He will not allow the only person who makes him feel good in the entire seven kingdoms to struggle to earn a living when he is quite literally the king.

At first you turn him down, stating that you have to earn your own way and that you can't rely on him.

And then he goes quiet for a moment before he just softly says, "But, I rely on you? We can rely on each other?" Which is just the sweetest thing you've ever heard. You kiss his head and let him curl against your chest, giving him a little squeeze before telling him that you won't let him pay everything, but you will ket him pay enough to the madam that she will allow you to only take clients of your choice and also to set aside 4 nights every week that are just for him. It's not everything he wanted, but it's pretty damn close. And Aegon is so obsessed with you that he will absolutely take 4 days a week of your undivided attention.

It carries on like that for a while, with you and him being together 4 nights a week and he's just... he's so sweet and he's so perfect and he loves being with you so much. Maybe sometimes he doesn't even want anything sexual? Which yeah is wild cause Aegon is pretty much always horny, but when he's getting so thoroughly fucked every second day, sometimes he just wants to be with you.

Even when he doesn't want something sexual, that is not at all to say he doesn't still want to come be with you. Aegon would sleep in the same bed as you every single night if he could. He also just loves being able to talk to you about his day? You always listen to him and offer him advice. He's never really even able to feel like he can decompress at the end of the day, but now he's always able to with you. He knows that the moment he walks through the doors, you will know how to help him.

I think that eventually you'd accept his offer of him being your only client, and the day you tell him that he is smiling and giggling for the entire day. He definitely buys you a little cottage close to the keep, and as much as you try to say he doesn't need to, he won't hear it.

In fact he actually loves providing for you like that? You do so so much for him and he knows he'd never be able to function without you and so to know that he can do something to help you is just amazing and it makes him so so so happy.

I absolutely adore this concept!! This ask is already insanely long so I'm not gonna go any further here but if anyone else has thoughts about this let me know!!! I'd love to discuss it more :))

[screeching-bunny]

Part 2 on the Yandere supernatural heram please.

Yandere! Supernatural Harem pt.2

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

Pt.1

Your first ever viable memory was of a supernatural creature. At the young age of three, you encountered an extremely tall woman with long black hair dressed in a white dress. Looking back at the memory, she ended up turning out to be an urban legend called Hachishakusama. The eight feet tall women loomed down over you and followed you wherever you went. Everytime she was nearby you could hear her utter the sound “po” over and over again. Anytime you brought this up to your parents they would just brush it off as you being imaginative and thought that you made an imaginary friend. “Would your friend like to join us for dinner tonight?” Never, would they actually take your comments.

It wasn’t until you got tired of her appearance did you actually start to confront her. With your limited variety of vocabulary and baby voice, you spring out the sentence of “Why you follow me?” Only to be met with silence as you stomp your little feet on the ground. Geez how rude of her didn’t she hear that you asked a question?

Suddenly, the woman reaches her arms out to grab you. The grip of her hug was strong and firm. You were barely able to move around that much. Your tiny little brain panicked as you struggled to get free. It was the first time that you’ve ever experienced real fear. Soon, the woman opened her mouth and said, “Won’t you come home with me child. I’ll make sure to take care of you and treat you better than your biological parents.” You didn’t get a chance to respond before your mother burst into your room and screamed.

After that incident your parents took you to a Buddhist temple so that you could be dispelled from evil spirits or entities. This however, never really worked because some form of shape or another they just kept on crawling back. When your parents thought that you were safe you were finally able to leave the temple. Your parents wanted you to be extra safe so they decided to move out of the house and buy a new one. Thankfully, due to this incident they were more aware and took your concerns about others very seriously from then on.

Another vivid memory that you could recall was when you were at the age of eight. It was at the time when your new neighbors moved into the house next to yours. Your father wanted to greet your new neighbors and took you along with him. You remember waiting on their doorstep as your father knocks on the door. A few minutes pass and he knocks again. “Maybe they're not home, let’s come back later.” Just then the door swings open and out comes a tall blonde man. “Hi, we’re your new neighbors. We just came by to greet you and welcome you to our neighborhood.” The blonde man stared for a second before saying, “Thanks so much for that and your formalities. You have such a cute kid. I have two twin boys about their age, do you think they could play together?”

Just like that you were in the neighbor’s yard with his two twin sons. They were definitely an odd bunch with long bangs covering your eyes. Even though you couldn’t see them, you could feel their eyes following your form. As time went on hanging around them wasn’t that bad; they were very nice to be around and listen to basically everything you said. The only problem was that they were overly clingy, everywhere you were they just had to be as well. Another red flag was that they would never allow you to see their eyes no matter how much you pleaded and pestered, they would never allow you to see their eyes.

By the time that you were in the fifth grade, you three were inseparable best friends. During your time with them however, students at your elementary school started to go missing more frequently. An incident that you could remember was when you told the twins that you liked some kid and were planning to confess soon. A few weeks later your crush was missing and a community search was sent out. No matter how hard everyone looked no one could find them, it was almost as if they had disappeared out of thin air.

As the years went on more creatures showed up to you but they seemed to be intercepted by some weird force. You made sure to keep this a secret from everyone but your parents. It wasn’t until your senior year of high school that you found out the truth about your two best friends. One day, you just got so curious about what their eyes looked like that you peaked at one of the twin’s eyes when he was his face. His eyes were pitch black and darker than charcoal. Even though you didn’t know it at the time, they were called black eyed children.

Safe to say, you were extremely creeped out by this discovery but were even more creeped out that they were planning on kidnapping you to some faraway place. Yeah heck no, so on the day of graduation, you decided to run away from home to get away from them. You then wrote a letter to your family basically saying, “Yeah, so my childhood friends aren't actually human and it’s best I leave before anything happens to you or me peace out, xoxo your child.”

Leaving home was pretty rough for you. You’ve never felt so alone before in your entire life and to top it all off you were a newly fresh adult. Making it into an adult transition was difficult and confusing but you somehow managed with that.

Blasting into the future now, you were in quite a predicament. Waking up with your limbs tied to a bedpost was not your ideal way of starting your morning but hey at least your kidnapper didn’t you hard rope. Instead, it was a really thick ribbon and lace that bonded your arms. Your eyes start to adjust to the light as your vision starts to get clearer you notice that most of the furniture is Victorian styled. Soon you hear footsteps reach to the and it starts to open.

“My love, it seems that you're finally awake. Oh how I’ve dreamed of this moment, I can’t believe that this is real.” Wow this was totally not creepy whatsoever. Taking in his appearance you notice his sharp fangs and long glistening hair. Yeah he is definitely a vampire, this is so annoying you really did not feel like being a blood bag right now.

“Can you please untie me? I promise not to run away.” Before you could get a response from him, the ground suddenly started to shake, and you could feel your arms being freed. As you get up to run from your captor, you feel the arms of someone grabbing your waist. In a blink of an eye, you feel someone lift you up and fly you away from the vampire. “GOD DAMN IT, NOT THIS AGAIN.”

[demonpiratehuntress]

clowns

taglist - @kabloswrld

OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader

summary - clowns are terrifying, and your first encounter with one leaves you traumatised. lucky for you, you have a big strong swordsman as a boyfriend.

warnings - CLOWNS (yes they should ALWAYS be a warning and yes Buggy scares me), you and Zoro are/were both pirate hunters

a/n - i count myself lucky i don't have circuses where i live, because if i ever see a clown i will run the other way

Not only did you not expect to join a pirate crew, but you far from thought your first encounter as a "crew" would be facing your worst nightmare.

The minute you saw the bright red nose and funny make-up, you stiffened. Your eyes went wide and you became unresponsive, like you couldn't hear them talking or feel Zoro's subtle protective touches. You were too focused on the clown in front of you, terrified to your core.

"What's wrong with her?" Buggy noticed your stare, and waved his hand in front of your face. "Can she hear me?"

Zoro growled and put himself between you and the clown pirate, "Eyes on me, Binky." He knew that wasn't the clown's name, but Luffy's mistake would serve him well in getting Buggy's attention off you.

Sure enough, the clown scowled and looked at him, "Buggy! It's not that hard to remember!"

You were relieved that the clown was no longer focusing on you, but just the sight of him was rattling you to your core. While he was distracted, you took it as your opportunity to turn and run.

Now let it be said that you do not run easily from anything. You and Zoro were pirate hunters, or had been until you'd been roped into this, and you had faced some nasty, dangerous threats. You were hardened, and almost nothing shook you.

Except clowns.

Funny how the one thing you steered clear of found you first the moment you aligned yourself with others.

Before you could get far, some of his circus freaks grabbed you and brought you back. The clown was still talking about himself, but chuckled when his goons brought you back into the tent.

"What's wrong, pirate hunter?" He sneered. "Scared?"

"Hey!" Luffy beat Zoro this time, "Leave her alone."

And things went downhill from there.

You were, for some reason, separated from the group. So was Luffy, but that's because Buggy was interrogating him. Nami and Zoro had been escorted somewhere else, leaving you on your own in another side room, panicking and growing more and more nauseous. To make matters worse, Luffy started screaming from wherever he was.

A while later, the clown walked into your room.

Your eyes went wide, and you struggled against the rope holding you to the wooden beam.

"I'm surprised," he spoke, "You have a reputation that made even some of my men nervous. And yet...you can't even look me in the eye." He stopped right in front of you, "Why's that?"

You tried your best to look away, turning your head sideways and finding something else to focus on. You couldn't speak, and you were trembling. Nothing had ever shaken you like this, ever. But clowns for some reason...you couldn't handle them.

"Is it the nose?" He asked mockingly, although he sounded a bit annoyed at the mention of his large appendage again. He forced you to look at him, gripping your chin in his gloved hands. "Hmm?"

"Leave me alone," you managed to get out through gritted teeth.

"Your captain isn't being very cooperative," he ignored your request, "So I have a lot of time to spend here with you."

"Why me?" You tried to glare, but you knew you looked scared. Because you were.

"Fear is a good motivator for telling the truth," he finally let go of your chin, walking around you and sizing you up. "Your friends will be tough to convince, but you...you don't like clowns, right? I'll leave you alone if you tell me where the map is."

"Do your worst," you breathed out, a little shakily, but you were determined not to cave. Not for this idiot.

He growled, and in an instant he was in front of you again, holding a knife to your throat while putting his frightening face right up in yours, "Tell me where it is!"

The sound you let out was something between a squeak and a yelp, fear once again overcoming your body at the clown's proximity. It wasn't so much the knife pressed against your jugular, it was the fact that your worst fear was inches away from you. You clenched your fists, trying to control your shaking, but it didn't work. And he was amused by your terror.

"I'm going to check on your captain," he stepped back, "If he doesn't give me an answer, I'm coming right back here and I promise I'll leave a scar." Then he left, and you could breathe again.

But that's when the tears came.

You didn't really sob, you just stayed there crying silently. Your body trembled, mind numb with fear and shock. His face was burned into your mind, and shutting your eyes only made your panic worse.

That's how Zoro found you, tied up and shaking with glassy eyes.

"What did he do to you?" The swordsman asked when he cut you loose, grabbing and squeezing your arms gently. "(Name), what did he do?"

You just shook your head, unable to speak, and sought his comfort by burying your face in his neck and crying even more. The more you shook, the angrier he got. But he held you for as long as you needed, knowing Nami would be okay with finding Luffy on her own. You were Zoro's priority.

You finally let go a few minutes later, wiping your face, "Let's go help the others."

He nodded, guiding you out the room.

The trauma stuck with you for a few days after the three of you escaped him, evident one night when you woke up sweating and shaking. Zoro was a deep sleeper, but he had a sixth sense reserved just for you, so he was woken up by your outburst.

Zoro wasn't good with words, but he was definitely good at comforting you through actions. He never had to say anything, he just wrapped his strong arms around you and you were slowly soothed. You just had to lean against his chest, enveloped in his arms, and you would slowly calm down. His gentle kisses atop your head also helped, his affection never failing to get your mind off whatever was worrying you.

In Syrup Village, you spotted a poster of the clown pirate and started hyperventilating. Zoro immediately turned you away from it and cupped your cheeks in his hands, making you look at him.

"Hey, focus on me," he told you, "Just me. I'm here. You're fine." He used a gentle, soft tone, one reserved just for you.

You tried to breathe, eyes locked on his face, concentrating on his warm brown ones that held so much concern for you. The eyes that always comforted you with just a look. Slowly your breathing evened out, and Zoro embraced you, this time not caring that you were in public.

"You're okay."

You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath, "Thanks, Zoro."

He just nodded, giving you one last forehead kiss, "If we ever see him again, I'm going to cut him up and throw him in the ocean."

You managed a weak smile, grateful to have such a protective boyfriend. His actions always proved how devoted he was, even if they were a little violent. You wouldn't have it any other way.

"You do that."

[pbandnoj]

Sending the randomest shit to a pre-relationship Megumi would be the funniest thing. I mean this would before he even realized he had feelings or that you had feelings for him. The poor guy was clueless. And you thought it was hilarious.

Let’s start this off by saying you and Megumi were close, but so were all of you guys, it was a tight nit circle. But Megumi was just different than the rest. So you spent a lot of time together, and texting when you couldn’t be.

So one night you guys as well as Itadori and Nobara were sitting in Megumi’s dorm (the cleanest), just lounging have some random ass conversations. And a few minutes later Megumi was picking up his phone, seeing a message from you. With a raised brow he looked at the simple blue heart emoji you sent, with the most weirded out face you had ever seen him make. Which in turn caused you to burst out laughing getting a few looks from the other two.

Another encounter of this was when you were training. A lax a daisy school day, sparring with each other and some of the 2nd years. And Megumi looked stunning, sweaty and running his hands through his hair every few seconds had you salivating. This garnered another one of your unfiltered texts, and while you knew what you could and couldn’t get away with, you always teetered on that line.

So a “God Damn” text was sent his way. Course he didn’t see that until a few seconds later where he pulled up the bottom half of his uniform top up to wick away the sweat from his face. His eyes went wide as he gave you a look that you couldn’t quite read, a giggle fallin from your lips.

This had happened so many times Megumi decided to enlist Itadori’s help, confused as to what you were getting at. “Itadori,” his calm voice called out, maybe one of the only times he said his name without being irritated with his fellow classmate. The pink-haired teen’s ears perked up, “Yeah Fushiguro?” He called looking up only for a phone to be shoved in his face. Megumi wasn’t good at asking for help and this was the closest it was gonna get, “Read.”

As Itadori’s eyes filtered over the messages a smirk resonated on his face, “I don’t know man, seems like she’s into ya,” he said with a way too toothy grin. Megumi’s brows furrowed as he shook his head, “Not possible,” he huffed out causing Itadori to snicker, “I’m telling you dude that’s what it is.”

And from that day on Megumi was a little too aware of everything you did around him, the dots connecting in his head. But how did he feel about this? He had no clue, absolutely none.

That’s when he went to Nobara, once again someone he wouldn’t normally go to. “Nobara?” He called out the same way he did Itadori’s name, and her ears perking up the same way. “Oh?” She said with a soft snicker, causing Megumi to roll his eyes. Once the situation was explained Nobara’s brow never stopped being raised, “So?” She grumbled eliciting a groan from Megumi, “How am I supposed to feel?”

She shook her head, a tsk coming from her mouth, “Now cmon on Megumi, you’d be passing up a great chance with em.” His brows raised before shaking his head, “That’s not what I’m asking.” Nobara was now the one groaning, “Look, I can’t tell you how you feel, but I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

And let’s just say Megumi was even more confused when he left that conversation, and it didn’t help when he bumped into you. His face was beet red, one of the only time you had seen him like that. “Everything ok Gumi?” His heart fluttered as he nodded, words caught in his throat. “Wanna hang out?” You tilted your head, his heart fluttered once more as he nodded. You smiled, happy he was gonna hang out with you, and his heart fluttered once more.

Let’s just say Megumi never thought he’d be the guy to be in a relationship. He wouldn’t be the guy to want someone. And never did he ever think he’d be the first to confess. Yet here he was muttering the words out, the same calm and collected voice now just a little more shaky.

And while you were flabbergasted of course you accepted, cause you felt exactly the same.

[merrybloomwrites]

The Only Way of Knowing You (Chapter 3)

Story Summary: After a chance encounter, Y/N finds herself on a series of dates with Harry Styles. She shares with him her innocence regarding physical intimacy, and he takes his responsibility in teaching her all about that very seriously.

Chapter Summary: After a number of weeks dating Harry, Y/N is ready to take the next step physically. He guides her through her first couple of intimate experiences in a way that has her falling deeper and deeper for him.

Word Count: 5.5K

CW: thigh riding, handjob, fingering

AN: First bit of smut! I feel like I should warn that while the rest of the chapters (3-5) are smutty, they’re not exactly spicy. Since reader is very innocent the story is more Harry teaching her so its definitely more like, awkward and endearing than sexy haha

——————

After a few weeks, numerous dates, and plenty of innocent kisses, today might finally be the day you experience more.

Over the past few weeks you’ve gotten to spend plenty of quality time with Harry. It’s been wonderful just getting to know him and grow closer together. Your relationship is strong, you’ve both started to really trust and depend on each other.

And while all of the time spent talking and hanging out has been fantastic, you can’t help but think about the more physical side of a relationship. You’re more than ready to take it up a notch, whatever that may be.

Harry had driven you home from a few dates, and you hadn’t asked him to come in again. Not yet.

But today, as the two of you sat at a local park eating ice cream and enjoying the warm spring air, you made the decision to ask again. You hope he’ll understand that this means you’re ready.

As always, he walks you to your door. Before he can lean in for a goodbye peck, you say, “Would you like to come inside?”

“I would love to,” he answers, having noticed your hopeful expression. You unlock the door and he follows you inside. You stop briefly in the kitchen to grab water for each of you then lead him to the living room.

You sit on one end of the couch and he does the same on the opposite side. He’s as far from you as possible. And that’s just not going to work. But you’re nervous. Unsure of how to make the first move. You desperately wish he would take control, but you don’t know how to say that.

Instead, you ask, “Do you want to watch a movie?” It’s painfully obvious what you’re trying to do, but he doesn’t call you out on it, just replies, “Sounds like a great idea.”

Of course that means you now have to choose a movie. Luckily, the two of you quickly settle on a romcom, one you’ve both seen before. Which is perfect, because you hope you won’t actually be watching the whole thing. You’d love it if there was some sort of distraction in the form of Harry.

The movie starts and a few minutes later you get up to make popcorn. When you get back you sit down on the middle cushion, noticeably closer to Harry. His small smirk tells you he knows exactly what you’re doing.

There’s definite tension in the air, an electric charge that’s both exciting and nerve wracking. You’re hyper aware of Harry next to you, noticing every time he so much as shifts a finger.

And then he finally makes a move. Kind of. Maybe the start of a move. Harry raises his arm and rests it on the back of the couch behind you. He’s not technically touching you, but his fingertips graze lightly on your arm every now and then. It’s enough to drive you crazy, teasing you to no end.

Eventually you gain some confidence and slide closer so that your sides are touching. Finally, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you in close to him.

Turning to look at Harry, your breath catches in your throat as you see him already watching you. He smiles gently at you, and his eyes glance to your lips. You smile softly in return, and as though it’s slow motion, he begins to learn towards you.

Your tongue darts out quickly, licking your lips just before Harry’s mouth meets yours. As always, it’s soft, his mouth plush and gentle. But this time he doesn’t pull away after one kiss. He turns slightly, his lips moving against yours in a way that you know will quickly become addicting.

After a few minutes of sliding your mouths together, you feel his lips part. You follow his lead, opening your mouth slightly to deepen the kiss. Finally his tongue slides into your mouth, just a little bit, enough to tease and make you want more.

He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours. He notices your expression, how calm and serene you look.

“C’mere,” he says, voice low and gravelly. His hand gently grips your leg, his skin meeting yours, sliding just under the hem of your sundress. He helps you shift so that you’re seated in his lap straddling one of his thighs. You don’t quite settle, keeping some distance between your bodies. Harry’s hands slide back up to your face, holding your cheeks as he leans in for another passionate kiss.

When he deepens the kiss once more, you start to feel something in your belly. It feels warm, and tingly, and you become antsy, like you need to move or else you may explode. Your body moves, and you don’t even realize what’s happening. You lower your hips until your center is directly on Harry’s firm thigh.

A new feeling jolts through your body at the contact, and you pull back with a gasp. You look at Harry, confusion obviously written all over your face.

“It’s okay, love,” he says to reassure you.

Your brow furrows even more and you ask, “What was that?”

Now it’s his turn to be confused and he says, “What was what?”

“That feeling. When I uhm-”

“When you grinded on my leg?” He says, smirk back on his face. You flush, and without making you answer he continues, “Have you ever come before?”

“Come? Come where?”

He laughs, and you duck your head, embarrassed by how naive you are. He moves your hair out of your face and ducks as well to meet your eyes. “I don’t mean to laugh at you. You’re very endearing. What I meant to ask is have you ever had an orgasm before?”

“Oh. No, I haven’t,” you answer honestly.

“You haven’t even had one just from touching yourself?”

“Harry, masturbation is a sin,” you reply.

He’s taken aback by this response and you quickly laugh to show you’re not serious.

“It’s what I was taught when I was younger,” you continue. “And then when I got older and realized that was ridiculous I tried a couple times. But I never actually felt anything so I just gave up. Wait, was that an orgasm?”

“Not quite, love. That was pleasure which can build into an orgasm,”

“Oh,” you say.

He leans in for a sweet kiss. “Can I show you? Help you feel good? Will you let me do that?”

Your whole body grows hot at this question, and you simply nod.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes, Harry. Can you show me?”

“Of course. C’mere,” he says as his hands go to your hips. He gently presses down until your panty-covered pussy meets his jeans-clad thigh. There’s a spark again and Harry says, “Just do what feels natural. I’ll help, but you should follow your body's instincts. It might be a bit strange at first, and we’ll stop if you’re uncomfortable, but it will lead to pleasure if we do it right. Okay?”

“Okay,” you reply as you lean back in for another kiss. It quickly grows heated once again, Harry’s tongue sliding along yours. You quickly feel that heated, restless feeling and press down on Harry’s leg.

His strong hands grip your sides and he encourages you to move. You begin to slide on his leg, going back and forth the way Harry leads you. As the pressure builds in your tummy you break away from the kiss in order to take in a gasping breath.

“Doing so good, baby. Just take what you need,” Harry says to encourage you. He presses kisses to your head before moving down. His lips ghost against your neck and suddenly the feeling in your core grows.

You begin to lose the rhythm that Harry had helped you with, your hips not frantically moving of their own accord as you chase the feeling building in you. Harry kisses your neck, just under your ear and the feeling inside of you explodes.

Your breath comes out as harsh pants as waves of overwhelming pleasure wash over you. Harry soothes you through it, rubbing his hands over your skin as he murmurs sweet words.

When the intense feeling starts to subside you begin to grow self conscious of what just happened. You hide your face in Harry’s neck, and while he’d rather be able to see your face right now, he understands what you’re feeling.

“You did so good, baby,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

“Uhm, good? I think?”

“I understand. It’s a lot huh?”

“It felt like, hot all over? But not bad. I liked it,” you say shyly.

“I’m glad. I promise, this is nothing to be scared of. I know it’s all new, but it’s good. As I said before, we’ll go at your pace as we add in different things.”

“Thank you for being so understanding, Harry. It really means a lot. Makes me feel better about being so inexperienced.”

“Hey, never feel bad about that. It’s not a bad thing.”

The two of you share a smile as you become more aware of your body. You notice how damp your panties feel, and suddenly jump off of his lap, worried that some of the wetness might have leaked through. You stand in front of the couch and look down to see a small but undeniable wet spot on his jeans where you had been sitting.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you say, mortified by the sight.

“Hey what’s wrong, what happened?” He’s obviously concerned by your reaction, worried that he did something to make you uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” you say again. “Your pants. They’re wet. I got them wet.”

“This is what you’re worried about?” He asks, his finger touching the wet spot and you want to hide in shame. “Y/N, look at me.” You do as he says and he continues, “This is not a problem. It’s nothing to worry about. On the contrary, it’s actually quite hot. Truthfully it’s caused another problem down there.”

Your expression turns back to confusion until he points to what he’s talking about. And then it clicks. He means the bulge in his pants that definitely wasn’t there when he sat down earlier.

“Oh,” you say. “Should I uhm, do you want me to-”

“Not today sweetheart. Today is about you. I’m just going to splash some cool water on my face and I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply and he stands up, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he heads to the bathroom. You run into your bedroom to change into fresh panties and then grab more water from the kitchen.

The two of you meet back in the living room and Harry casually says, “Wanna watch a couple episodes of Parks and Rec?”

Just like that, Harry makes everything normal again. You spend another hour together, Harry holding you close. Eventually though, it’s time to say goodbye once again. One long kiss is shared at the door, and then he drives away, leaving you alone now with your thoughts.

And those thoughts are primarily about Harry. For the next couple weeks, your mind is constantly replaying how it felt to kiss him so deeply, to be held so closely. How it felt to have an orgasm for the first time.

You try to recreate the feeling yourself. Harry had mentioned that a lot of girls can get off by doing the same thing you did against a pillow, but it doesn’t have the same effect. Maybe you need the connection in order to feel pleasure. Maybe you just want Harry to be there. He made you feel so at ease, but doing it yourself just seems awkward, uncomfortable.

You and Harry see each other a few more times, but always out in public. Until one night the plans change at the last minute and you end up meeting at his house.

“I’m sorry again that we can’t go to the restaurant,” he says when you get there.

“Harry, it’s okay. I completely understand,” you reassure him. And you do understand. He’d explained the situation, how word had gotten out that Harry Styles would be dining at Le Petit Chateau and now the place was swarmed with fans and paparazzi. “I’m just glad we were given a heads up instead of walking into that craziness,” you continue.

“I completely agree. I did come up with a backup plan though, so I think we can still save this evening,” he replies.

“Harry, every evening with you is a good one. I don’t care what we do when we’re together,” you state. His face breaks out into a smile and he coyly looks down. You’re enamored by how shy he can sometimes be, this mega popstar who can own the stage but gets so bashful in his own home.

He’s flustered but manages to lead you to the kitchen, where two glasses of wine are waiting on the large island.

“I uh, thought I’d make dinner instead. But I had to do a grocery delivery and it just got here so nothing is ready,” he explains.

“So what you’re saying is we get to cook together? Sounds fun to me!”

He smiles, again, brightly this time, before clinking your glasses together and leaning in for a quick kiss.

“Let’s get to it then,” he says and turns towards the ingredients. He puts on some music and the two of you move around the kitchen making dinner together. When you sit at the dining table to eat you’re both impressed by how delicious it is, commenting that the night is going even better than it would have been if the original plans had been possible.

After cleaning the dishes you move to the living room, where the lights are dim and music is playing quietly in the background. You’re seated on the couch, tucked into Harry’s side, and without preamble, he leans down to connect his lips to yours.

It quickly becomes heated, and before you know it you’re once again straddling his leg with his hands on your waist. Just like last time, he gently presses down, encouraging you to grind against him, but you pull back.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Yea, I’m okay. I was just thinking, last time I was the only one to, you know, finish. I was hoping maybe this time we can do something else? Something to give each other pleasure,” you explain.

He listens and nods along before saying, “Why don’t we go to my bedroom to have some more space, get comfy?”

“Yea, that sounds good. But, I’m not ready for like, going all the way yet,” you say nervously.

“Don’t worry, I was thinking there are some fun things we can do with our hands,” he says smirking.

Your face heats up at the implication; truthfully, a warm flush runs through your entire body. He plants his feet on the floor and shifts you so that your legs are around his waist. “Hold on tight,” he says, the only warning he gives before standing from the couch with you wrapped around him. You gasp in surprise, another wave of arousal running through you at this show of his strength.

You can’t wait until you get to your destination, the need to kiss him is too strong. He’s surprised by the force with which your mouth meets his, but not bothered, and he matches your enthusiasm gladly. He makes his way to his bedroom, pulling away from the kiss a few times to make sure you get there safely.

When you arrive, he gently places you down on the bed, climbing up so that his body is pressed on top of yours. He’s holding himself up so as to not crush you, but you still feel him above you, every point of contact burning with electricity.

He kisses you again, slow this time, like he’s trying to learn everything he can about you through the kiss. He swallows your soft sighs, his plush lips brushing so softly against yours. Pulling away, Harry starts pressing kisses along the column of your neck. This alone has you whimpering, and Harry murmurs, “God, I love how sensitive you are.”

It’s such a strange compliment to you that you let out a small laugh, releasing some of your nervous energy. He continues to work at your neck, sucking lightly and creating a new sensation that has your eyes rolling back and wetness seeping from your core.

He continues to pepper kisses on your skin, but his hands go to the button on your jeans.

“Can I take these off, baby?”

You take a deep breath and say, “Okay, yea.”

Hearing the hesitation in your voice he asks, “You sure?”

“Yes, I’m just overthinking it. I mean, no one has seen me naked before, or like, not since I was a baby you know? It’s just, new,” you explain.

“We don’t have to, if you’re not comfortable.”

You think for a moment, trying to figure out what you want but Harry speaks again, suggesting, “What if we keep shirts on, would that help?”

“Yea, I think it would,” you say with a smile. “That wouldn’t be silly?”

“It’s not silly if it makes you feel at ease.”

“Alright. Let’s do that then.”

He leans back in for another sweet kiss, then gently removes your jeans. Before you can get too in your head, he stands off the bed to remove his own pants, effectively distracting you from your own self-consciousness. You sit up against the headboard to watch as his long legs are revealed to you. Your heart rate increases and your eyes travel up to his thick thighs, and then are magnetically pulled to the large bulge in his boxer briefs.

The nerves come back as you unintentionally stare at him. It seems bigger than you thought it could be. Not that you have anything to compare it to, but really, the size is still surprising.

Harry notices where your attention is, but rather than tease you which is his first instinct, he thinks about how intimidating this all is for you. He climbs back on the bed, kneeling next to your outstretched legs. His hand rubs calming circles on your shin and he asks, “What are you thinking right now?”

“Are you like, bigger than average? Or are all guys that big?”

Now he can’t help but laugh, though he quickly composes himself and says, “Yes, I would be considered bigger than average.”

His hand starts to move up your leg, getting closer to touching a place that has never been touched by anyone else, and you shift away slightly. He quickly pulls back, not wanting to cross any lines, and you're grateful for how attuned he seems to be to you.

“You said there’s something we can do with our hands to give each other pleasure, right?” you ask.

“I did,” he replies.

“How would I go about uhm, giving you pleasure?” Hearing how uncertain you sound, you say, “God, I’m sorry, this is supposed to be sexy and I’m just so clueless-”

“Hey, none of that,” he says as he moves to sit beside you, his legs stretched out next to yours. “You may be inexperienced, but I don’t care, okay? I don’t care that you need me to talk you through this. I am more than happy to teach you, got it?”

“Got it.”

Hesitantly, you place your hand on his thigh. You’re still for a moment before you start to slide higher up his leg, until it’s touching the waistband of his underwear. You look at him, asking a silent question to which he replies, “You can take them off.”

“Okay,” you say quietly. Harry senses your hesitation and puts his hands on top of yours, helping you remove the fabric until he’s completely bare from the waist down. He watches your reaction, notices how your eyes go wide with a mix of surprise and lust. He turns to grab a bottle of lube from the bedside table, giving himself a second to breathe. He didn’t expect just how much your big, doe eyes would turn him on, but seeing you discover all of this is somehow acting like an aphrodisiac to him.

You shift so that you’re kneeling next to him, resting both of your hands on his thigh, your eyes flickering between Harry’s face and his hard cock.

“You can touch,” he says. “Feel free to get familiar, explore a little bit.”

Following his direction, you gently run a finger along his length, too scared to do more just yet. You go from the base, all the way until you gently swirl around the tip, and he can’t keep in his gasp of pleasure at the feeling.

Scared that you’d done something wrong, you pull your hand back.

“That’s good, baby. Felt good,” Harry says. “Try wrapping your hand around it.” Again, you listen to the instruction and gently grip his length. “A little tighter, you won’t hurt me,” he says. He hisses in satisfaction when you do as he said. You glance up to his face just in time to see his eyes slip shut and his lips part.

You spend a moment just feeling him under you, surprised by how firm he is while somehow still being soft to the touch. He opens his eyes and watches as you practically study this new appendage. He’s again surprised by how incredibly hot he’s finding the whole situation. Never before has anyone been so focused, so curious.

After a little while he says, “Let me put a little of this on, it’ll help.”

You move your hand away and watch as he drizzles some lube onto his cock, stroking himself a few times to coat his whole length. You watch what he does, taking note of the way he moves his hand, how tightly he holds himself, how he seems to twist his wrist occasionally.

You reach out again, and he moves away so you can take over.

“Just tell me if I’m doing something wrong,” you say.

“You won’t. Do what feels natural, and I’ll give tips if you need them,” he replies.

You begin to stroke him, gripping tight and twisting just as you’d seen him do. Harry’s panting breaths and little moans encourage you, let you know you must be doing something right.

“You can uhm, change up the pace. Go faster for a bit, then go slow,” he says, and you try that as well, loving his reaction as you do so.

Growing more curious, and more bold, you use your other hand to gently touch his testicles that are laying against his leg. Harry sucks in a shaking breath, which you take as a good sign. “Try rolling them in your hand,” he says, “and you can squeeze them, gently though.”

You focus on doing that for a moment before realizing that you’d completely let go of his cock. You refocus and try to maintain stimulation everywhere, and the loud moan from Harry tells you that you must be succeeding.

“Just like that baby, feels perfect, just keep going.”

His breathing grows heavier, his moans more frequent, but his eyes stay fixed on you. He’s watching every move you make, and notices your furrowed brow when liquid starts to bubble out of his tip.

“Stop just a second,” he says, his voice breathless.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Not at all. I just wanted to give you a heads up on what’s about to happen. That liquid is precum,” he says.

“Oh! So you’re going to…”

“Come, yea. Soon,” he says with a chuckle. “I just wanted to give you a heads up that it’s going to get a little messy.”

“Well, thank you for the warning,” you say and both of you laugh. Something about the fact that you’re both able to joke even in the middle of an intimate moment makes you feel so comfortable, so secure in this relationship.

You lean in for a kiss and start moving your hands again, picking up where you left off. The kiss grows more intense as he nears his orgasm, and suddenly he pulls away, a loud groan leaving his mouth. His eyes roll shut and he tips his head back. You feel his cock start to twitch and you watch as ropes of cum shoot out and land on your hand.

While Harry catches his breath your eyes scan his body. You watch as his cock slowly softens, as his breaths return to normal. Finally, he opens his eyes and leans in for another sweet kiss.

“That was amazing, love,” he says.

“Thank you,” you reply bashfully. It feels so odd to be complimented on a handjob well done, but at the same time it does boost your confidence.

Harry leans in for a quick kiss and says, “I’ll be back in one second.” He gets off the bed and heads into the bathroom, coming back with a few wet washcloths. He uses one to clean up, and notices you looking at the others.

“Just wanted to be prepared,” he says.

“Prepared for what?”

“For after I make you come,” he states matter of factly.

“Oh. Good idea,” you reply and you both begin to laugh again. “Thank you for not taking this so seriously.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

“I like that we can joke and laugh even during these intimate moments. Makes it less awkward.”

“I agree. I’ve always thought that sex should be something fun, not so serious.”

He leans in, once again gently cupping your face and kissing you. You admit to yourself that making out with Harry is quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes.

His hand moves to your thigh, fingers tickling the inside and making you squirm. He slowly moves up, until he’s hovering over your underwear.

He pulls away from the kiss just far enough to ask, “Can I touch you?”

“Yes, you can touch,” you reply, your lips still brushing even as you speak to one another.

“Spread your legs a little bit, okay baby?”

“Okay,” you answer as you relax your legs, letting them separate enough for Harry to slide his hand in between. He rubs against your pussy, and when he touches a certain spot, you moan loudly and grip his arm.

“Feels good there, huh?” He asks and you only nod in reply. “This is the clitoris, a wonderful little bundle of nerves that will make you feel really good if you stimulate it just right,” he explains. “This alone can make you come, but it feels even better when you have something inside of you, something to clench around.”

You realize where he’s going with this, what the next step will be, and say, “I’ve never had anything inside me except tampons. Will it hurt?”

“If done properly it shouldn’t hurt. One finger’s roughly the same size as a tampon, and I’ll make sure you’re well lubricated. Would you like to try? You don’t have to, and we can stop at any time.”

“I want to try.” Even you’re surprised by how sure you sound. But even though you’re nervous, you need to try it someday. And here, with Harry, you feel so safe. Not only that, you want to be that close to him, feel him inside of you even if it is only a finger.

“Can I take these off?” He asks, touching the waistband of your panties. You nod and shift again so that he can slide them down your legs.

Instinctively, you clench your legs again in an effort to hide yourself, but noticing this, Harry says, “Please don’t hide yourself from me.”

Slowly, you relax once more and you hear Harry say, “You’re perfect, baby. Absolutely perfect.”

You’re overwhelmed by the sincerity and duck down. Sensing you need a moment, Harry simply rubs circles on your leg once more and then again asks, “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” you reply, voice breathy this time. His finger runs through your fold and up to your clit, and you gasp at the feeling. He starts rubbing circles just like earlier, but it’s more intense now that it’s direct contact.

After a few minutes of his working you up like this he moves away and you whine in complaint. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says with a light chuckle. “Just grabbing some lube. Technically you’re wet enough, but since it’s your first time I want to be extra safe. It might feel a little cold,” he adds in warning before drizzling some of the liquid on his fingers and touching you again.

“I’m gonna slide in now, nice and slow okay?”

“Okay.”

He kisses you as he lines his finger up with your entrance. Just like he promised, he moves slowly until his finger is fully inside of you, and you don’t feel any pain as he does it. It feels a little weird, but when he starts to move it in and out while his thumb circles your clit, you can see why people enjoy this.

“How’s that feel?”

“I like it,” you say, before you cut yourself off with a loud moan. You have no idea what happened, what Harry just did differently, but you absolutely need him to do it again.

“Right there huh?” He says and you feel that same spark of pleasure. He continues moving both the finger inside you and the thumb rubbing your clit, and soon enough everything peaks.

You ride out the waves of your orgasm, your walls clenching around Harry’s finger, and yea, that feels as good as he said it would. As you start to come down from the high you gently hold the back of Harry’s head and pull him down so you can tuck your face into his neck. You’re craving security and closeness, and Harry is happy to comply.

“I’m gonna pull out now,” he warns and you feel oddly empty when his hand is gone. You know it was only one finger, but you still had felt so full. You can’t imagine what it will feel like when his actual dick is inside of you.

Harry places soft kisses to your neck until your hold on him loosens. He picks up one of the cloths he’d set aside earlier and starts to clean between your legs. “I’ll be right back,” he says before heading to the bathroom to wash his hands.

When he gets back he finds you sitting cross legged in bed, and he can’t help but be enamored by you. You’re not doing anything special, but somehow you’re so adorable, so effortlessly attractive to him.

He grabs himself fresh boxers and then sits next to you on the bed.

“Would you like to stay here with me tonight?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment, and while you hadn’t planned on sleeping over, you’re realizing you really don’t want to leave his side right now. Having him inside you had you rather vulnerable, and you don’t want to be alone tonight. Spending the night in his bed sounds like the perfect plan.

“I’d like that,” you reply. He smiles and gets back up, grabbing some clean clothes for you to wear. As he hands them to you he says, “This is gonna sound weird, but you should probably go pee.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s doctor recommended that women pee after sex of any kind. Something about bacteria, I can’t quite remember.”

“Are you messing with me?”

He laughs and replies, “I swear I’m telling the truth.”

“Alright then, if you say so.”

You head into the bathroom to pee and get dressed, and you take in your appearance in the mirror. Your hair is just a little messed up, your cheeks flushed and your eyes bright. It’s weird to note this physical change, and how it reflects how you feel on the inside: bright and just a little more daring than before.

Harry’s not in the bedroom when you get back, but a second later he walks in with water, snacks, and both of your phones which had been left downstairs earlier.

“Movie night in bed?” He suggests, and you nod enthusiastically. The two of you spend the rest of the evening snuggled together, watching films and talking. You don’t feel yourself getting drowsy, but the next thing Harry knows, you’re asleep curled into his side.

He lowers the volume of the movie, remembering you once mentioned that you sleep with TV on, and he carefully shifts the two of you so that you’re comfortably laying in bed. He places a soft kiss to the top of your head, and is lulled to sleep by the sound of your deep breaths.

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Taglist: @lizsogolden @daphnesutton @kissitnhekitchen

AN: Thank you for reading, I hope you're enjoying the story so far!