#stella fanfic

[frost-queen]

Shimmering light (Fem!Reader x Stella)

Requested by: anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Sky puffed loud when you had kicked him in the chest. He doubled, reaching for his chest with a pained expression. – “You are out of shape Sky.” – you said teasingly, lowering your foot. Sky looked up, wanting to speak, but couldn’t yet. It made you laugh loud. – “Riven would be delighted to hear this.” – you told him as Sky straightened his posture. Having moved his hands to his hip, pointing at you. – “Don’t!” – he replied with a scowl.

It made you hum thoughtfully just to tease him more. Sky groaned grabbing a stick. He let it hit down on you. As a response, you had set your hands high as the stick came in contact with your wrists. – “Nice try darling.” – you moved your head for him to see your silly smirk. – “Sky, Y/n enough training!” – both of you heard. Sky lowered his stick.

Turning around, you straightened your posture at Saul coming your way. – “Good foot work Y/n.” – he whispered to you, patting you on the back. You threw Sky a mockingly smile just to rub it more in his face. Sky rolled his eyes. The other specialists gathered around as Saul had whistled loud. Riven came jogging over, looking all smug.

“Y/n.” – he said throwing an arm around you. Pressing your face close to his chest. – “Riven.” – you mumbled out, feeling squashed in his grip. Punching him in the armpit, he released his grip on you. You took a breather, shooting him a glare. Riven laughed finding himself amusing. Saul cleared his throat to make him stop interrupting. – “It’s time for your assignment.” – Saul explained.

He stepped aside as a group of fairies approached the training grounds. – “You’ve got to be kidding me.” – Riven puffed out, turning annoyed around. – “Scared Riven.” – you teased, tickling him under his armpits. Riven’s body squirmed, making him jump away from you. He gave you an annoyed look. Sky chuckled beside you. Saul snapped his finger to stop your little distraction.

“I’ll assign you your fairy.” – he started. He started pairing up some fairies and specialists. Amongst them stood Stella with her friends. She made brief eye contact with you. Her hand subtle going up to greet you with the smallest of nods. You smiled briefly back at her as response.

“I hope I get paired up with Sky.” – you heard her say to Musa. Musa gave her little attention, throwing glances from afar to Riven. – “Stella.” – Saul called out, making Stella straighten her back. – “Y/n.” – he called out, gesturing to the middle. Stella’s eyes widened as you came to the centre. Bloom had to push her forwards or else she would’ve remained still. Stella and you joined before Saul. Saul nodded at you.

You took Stella by her sleeve, pulling her aside. There you waited for everyone to be paired up. After pairing up gave Saul the subject to start training with each other. You and Stella moved a bit away from the group. – “Sorry I’m not Sky.” – you told her. Stella glanced up to you with a bit of shock in her eyes. Tilting her chin a bit up, her attitude changed.

“It’s better than Riven.” – she answered. – “Ouch.” – you replied hurt by her comment. Stella swallowed nervously, looking down. You had lowered yourself to pick up a fighting stick from the ground. Turning around you handed one to her. Stella stared rather strange at it. – “I’m not touching that.” – she said moving the stick away with one finger.

It made you sigh loud. – “Take it.” – you insisted. Stella crossed her arms. – “In case you forgot Y/n, I have my powers to protect me. I don’t need no sweaty stick.” – she said back cocky. You exhaled deep lowering the fighting stick. – “What if for some reason you can’t rely on them?” – you asked, pulling your shoulders up. Stella scoffed at what you said. You had a bit enough of her attitude. – “I’m here to protect you so maybe cut the whole stuck up princess act!” – you called out.

“It’s not an act, I am a princess.” – Stella replied loud. It made you throw your hands up. Throwing the stick on the ground, you gave up. Walking off, you had quite enough of her. – “Where are you going?” – Stella shouted getting on her toes. You ignored her, continuing to walk away. Stella lowered herself, looking hurt down.

She noticed some other pairings looking at her. It made her feel shy and small. Biting her thumb a bit, she went her own way. At first Stella thought about skipping. But then the guilt came. She felt guilty for acting like that towards you. She decided to change coarse and search for you. She eventually found you at the lunch tables. Stella took a deep breath before walking over.

You quirked your eyebrow up when she came sitting in front of you. – “Does her royal princess require something?” – you said bitsy. – “Y/n.” – Stella replied trying to reason with you. You crossed your arms, leaning back in your chair. Stella took a deep breath. – “I’m sorry.” – she said making you stare curious at her. You noticed how uneasy and vulnerable she felt.

“I…I didn’t mean to be so…” – she started. – “Bitchy?” – you answered for her, making her chuckle. – “Yes that.” – she agreed. – “Great, we agree on one thing.” – you teased seeing her smile. – “We agree on more things Y/n.” – Stella spoke. – “Like what?” – you asked intrigued. – “Like how good looking I am.” – she said making you quirk your eyebrow at her. – “Kidding!” – she laughed out, touching your arm. It didn’t make you laugh, rather just gaze at her.

You took a deep breath, placing your hand on hers. – “Stella, I’m not the one you should be building your walls up to.” – you told her. – “Remember last year?” – you pointed out. Stella nodded, remembering. – “The time I blinded that girl.” – she said looking down. You joined your other hand to hold hers in yours. Your action made her look up to you. – “No, after that.” – you corrected.

Stella smiled saddened at you. – “You were there.” – she said. – “I was there.” – you repeated. – “I was there when you were at your lowest. I kept you going. I made you shine as bright as ever Stella. So… don’t go acting all cold towards me with our history.” – you talked. Stella smiled brighter.

“You are better than Sky.” – she answered. – “You are what I need.” – Stella finished staring at your eyes. You smiled back at her. – “Oh how much better I feel.” – you responded dramatically, making Stella stomp your arm. Laughing loud afterwards. Both of you got up, heading back to the training grounds.

*

You kicked the door open after having heard Stella scream. Her eyes turned to shock when you busted in the room. Your eye immediately fell on her mother. With your batons you went for her mother. Forcing her face down on the desk. Arm between your baton on her back as your other one pressed her back against the desk. – “Y/n!” – Stella called out with tears in her eyes.

“This is the last time that you hurt her!” – you grunted out, pressing her mother’s cheek harder on the desk. Her mother was furious. Squirming under your grip to get free. – “You wait till I am free!” – she threatened. – “Do your worst.” – you responded coldly. Stella stared in shock, hands to her mouth at the display. Her mother raised her hand as Stella caught the faintest of light.

“Y/n!” – she alarmed you. You saw the light as well, quickly pulling back before she could blind you. Your own reaction made you stumble back. Her mother rose, eyes reflecting fury. She pointed her hand at you, casting a blast of light towards you. You fell back against Farah’s bookcase.

Books dropped to the ground with you. Stella gasped loud with tears in her eyes. – “You specialists think you are equal to us!” – she spitted out. Raising her hand as light emerged from it. – “You have just signed your own death.” – she called out. – “No!” – Stella shouted coming to stand in between. Arms wide open. – “Step aside child!” – Her mother casted out.

“No! I won’t let you hurt her!” – Stella defied against her mother. Her mother scoffed amusingly, finding it humorous her daughter would stand up against her. – “I won’t let you touch her!” – Stella replied determined. You looked up amazed to her. Seeing how strong she appeared. Her mother rose her hand either way, ready to cast light at Stella for being in the way.

You got up, wrapping your arms around Stella. Calling it out, you pulled her down with you, before the light could hit her. The light hit the bookcase instead. Making more books drop down. Hitting you and Stella all over.

You had moved your arms around Stella, protecting her. Stella slowly lifted her head, coming close to yours. For a moment the two of you stared at each other. You smiled, brushing your thumb against her cheek. Stella breathed out a smile with tears in her eyes. Her mother scoffed disgusted ready to cast again. You pulled Stella in your embrace to protect her. – “I’m sorry.” – you whispered to her.

Stella hugged you back, tightly. – “Not a word.” – she whispered back. Both of you closed your eyes, waiting for the impact. The door swung open, Farah entering with Saul. Saul launched for Stella’s mother, grabbing her arm and twisting it behind her back. Farah turned to look at you. – “Are you alright girls?” – she asked as Saul escorted Stella’s mother out.

Stella and you stared a bit confused at each other. – “We are.” – Stella spoke with a smile. You helped each other up, embracing one another again.

---------------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[mxstellatayte]

pretty please: chapter one.

pretty please masterlist.

chapter one warnings: lewis lowkey being a sugar daddy, (sex spoilers after this,) legal use of alcohol, consensual sex!!!, lewis is really good at dirty talking lol, lewis has a big dick haha, oral sex (m and f receiving,) multiple orgasms (f receiving,) belly bulge, praise (m and f receiving,) lewis hamilton aftercare king

chapter one word count: 5.3k (3k words of porn tho don't worry)

taglist: @pear-1206 @vivi-81 @irishmanwhore

join my taglist here!

you made me an offer i can't refuse

thursday, 23 may, 2019

you push out a shaky breath, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles in your outfit one last time before stepping out of your hotel room. today is the day you've been both dreading and looking forward to for the past two weeks- the day you interview the one and only lewis hamilton at the monaco grand prix media day.

when you'd been offered the opportunity for a one-on-one interview with one of the most iconic faces in both the fashion and motorsports world, you thought you were dreaming. turns out that the journalist who had originally been assigned to the project had a family emergency and needed time off of work, so the chance to lead the project was yours and yours alone. of course, once you realized that you were not dreaming, you accepted. despite your preparation, you're still terrified. you have ten questions at the ready in your small notebook that you've read over and attempted to memorize approximately twelve times each hour for the past three days, but the practice does nothing to soothe your anxiety.

"fuck it," you say to yourself, inspecting your makeup one last time before slipping your feet into your signature shoes- platform high top converse. once on the streets of monaco, you hail a cab to take you to the circuit, your black and purple media badge secure in your purse. your stomach is twisting with anxiety the whole way there, and when you pay the driver and step out of the cab, it only increases tenfold.

you're about to interview lewis hamilton. no big deal.

yeah.

not a big deal at all.

the next hour and a half is a whirlwind of meeting with lewis' manager to getting your questions checked over to getting a tour of the media center to seeing the recording booth where you're going to be interviewing the driver. it's a nice room, but it's separate from the rest of the media areas, so you assume it's likely not normally for recording podcasts.

"how long do i have before the interview?" you ask, turning to lewis' pr manager.

"about twenty minutes, but lewis is going to be here in ten for soundcheck. make yourself comfortable for now, can i get you anything? water, tea, coffee?"

"a cup of tea would be lovely, thank you." you smile and nod, sitting down inside the booth on the plush couch. in a feeble attempt to quell your nerves, you take your mini notebook out of your bag and go over the questions for the umpteenth time today, but the words on the page blur together as you try to squish down the stirring in your stomach.

"here's the tea for you," someone says, and you're expecting it to be the manager you'd spoken to, but when you look up, you're met with an unfairly beautiful face. oh. okay. this is happening. you're casually accepting a cup of tea from five-time world champion lewis hamilton. the man you're about to interview.

no big deal.

the interview goes by without any hiccups, and, before you know it, your hour in the booth is up, and you say your on-camera goodbyes before they stop recording. as you're about to leave, though, lewis gently touches your upper arm and asks to speak to you for a moment-

only if you don't have something to rush to, of course- and your heart leaps into your throat. had you said something wrong or hit a sensitive nerve with one of your questions?

"i want to thank you. not a lot of reporters are able to ask questions beyond the simple 'how do you plan on winning this weekend' and 'what changes are you going to make based on mistakes made at the previous race,' so i applaud you. your questions were really different from what i was expecting, and your interview style is really unique. i enjoyed talking to you." he extends his hand and you shake it firmly, your chest feeling like it might just explode with pride.

"thank you, mr. hamilton. i'm incredibly grateful for the opportunity to speak with you, and i'm looking forward to any i may have in the future." the driver beams, and you can't help but notice the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. it's annoyingly pretty.

"i won't have any of this 'mr. hamilton' nonsense. call me lewis. after talking to you for an hour, i can tell that you're very knowledgeable when it comes to both motor sports and fashion, which is really impressive. and i look forward to speaking with you in the future, too." the two of you chat for a few more minutes before he's summoned once more, and you bid your goodbyes.

a few minutes later, as you're trying to calm down your heart rate so that you can maintain some small semblance of composure before returning to the outside world, one of your long-time friends from college approaches you from behind, and, in her standard fashion, scares the shit out of you.

"boo."

you shriek, your previous efforts to stabilize your heart rate now entirely in vain. "christ, amelia! do you have to sneak up on me everywhere?"

"absolutely. i also have something to tell you something." your eyebrows furrow as she almost instantly moves on from the fact that she nearly scared you half to death mere seconds ago, but you almost fully pass away by choking on your saliva two seconds later. "you've got it really down bad for him, and you're not subtle about it. at all."

after you're done recovering from yet another near-death experience, you punch her left arm. hard. "you are so lucky i don't have a weapon right now." amelia laughs, her head thrown back and her shoulders bouncing with delight.

"awe, come on." she smiles at you, her eyes glittering in their signature way, signaling that she's about to drag you into a potentially messy and new situation. "you know that the rules state very clearly that there's a zero-tolerance policy for physical or verbal harassment."

i got it bad for you, so baby

thursday, 28 november, 2019.

it's your third time interviewing lewis in the 2019 season, and since you first spoke to him at the monaco grand prix, things have changed for both of you. following the success of your interview with him at the monaco grand prix and the article you wrote to go along with it, you'd been promoted from your previous position as fashion field journalist to the lofty title of fashion and sports researcher and journalist. as soon as lewis hears the news, he's sure to congratulate you, this time at one of the biggest spectacles in motorsports: the abu dhabi grand prix. you can't help but beam with pride when he mentions your new title, thanking him again for his time, and remembering to call him by his first name despite how strange it feels.

"i should be congratulating you on something, as well, six-time world champion," you grin, happy as your friendly banter with lewis seems to fall into place. your first time meeting him, you were so terrified of saying something wrong that you didn't let yourself really let go and show your personality. the second time, in mexico, you were able to relax a little bit more and even crack a few jokes. today, you're all smiles and even got breakfast with him before the scheduled meeting time. one anxiety you'd voiced was that the same paparazzi that you've worked with in the past don't take photos of you with the driver and sell them to the media, which would undoubtedly start a pr disaster for both of you.

"if you'd rather have breakfast in the paddock, i can have that set up," he'd offered, and, once again, who would you be to decline such a kind offer?

so here you find yourself, enjoying an expertly brewed italian iced coffee and two perfectly crumbly strawberry scones, sitting across from the reigning world champion of motorsport.

you know, standard thursdays.

"one thing i don't think i've mentioned before," lewis begins, setting down his cup of tea, "is how much i admire that you try to find the human behind the driver."

your eyebrows furrow. "i don't think i follow."

"i now realize my wording is really weird. let me fix that." you laugh, taking another bite of your scone. "you don't exclusively ask questions about driving. you dig into our hobbies and interests outside of the paddock. in my experience, the way you balance questions for both motorsports and fashion is fascinating."

"it's all part of the job. i wouldn't be where i am without interesting questions, would i?" lewis smiles, shaking his head.

"i doubt it, but you are pretty damn smart. i bet you'd find a way to make it here one way or another."

"i'm flattered."

the conversation continues easily as the two of you finish your breakfast, then, as you begin to prepare yourself to stand and leave, he stops you. "actually, there's one last thing i wanted to do before we went on camera."

your head tilts in confusion as you set your signature lipstick back in your bag, a deep red balm that you've used since you started working at vogue. it's become your trademark product, and almost everyone in the office knows exactly which one you use. "do i need to be worried, lewis?"

"no, not at all! it's this," he says, and your eyebrows rise in complete and utter shock when he pulls out a small box wrapped in white paper and a crimson bow wrapped around it all. "i wanted to get you a gift as a way of saying thank you for all the curveball questions you've thrown at me this year." your hands shake as you take the box from him, and you already know exactly which brand it is. cartier. sure, you've written pieces about their timeless looks and elegant aesthetics, and owning a piece of their jewelry has always been a dream of yours, but it's always been just that: a dream.

"lewis, i can't accept this. i- i'm honestly at a loss for words. seriously, no." you can't help but flush at how he's looking at you, those annoyingly beautiful eyes of his and the stupidly perfect crow's feet that only show up when he really smiles- when he smiles the way he is now. gods, amelia was right. you really are down bad for the driver.

"please, just open it up. if you don't like it, i'll take it back and you can choose something you prefer." he nudges the box towards you once more, and the crisp wax seal that sits on top of the paper is incredibly enticing.

"are you serious?" a part of you wants to think that this is some sick joke, that there's cameras on you and it's all going up on one of those prank channels on youtube. a much, much bigger part of you believes lewis, though. that is the part of you that takes the box between your shaking hands, carefully pops open the wax seal, nimbly unties the beautiful ribbon, and gently unfolds the pure white paper. when you finally open the box, you gasp, tears threatening to well in your eyes. "lewis..."

"do you like it?" his voice sounds anxious and hopeful, and you can't help but realize how much thought he'd put into this gift. when you'd invited him into your office to review some photos that were to go into an article in the next vogue issue a few months prior, he'd seen the vision board on your wall and asked about it. bashfully, you had explained to him that it was a silly idea you had when you graduated from uni with your friends- each of you made one, cutting and pasting photos from pinterest, magazines, newspapers, and anything you could find, assembling your dreams in a mishmash of colors and ideas. one of your dreams on the board had been to own this exact necklace- the cartier juste un clou necklace in white gold. the fourteen diamonds set in the precious metal glitter back at you, and you can't help but smile.

"i love it, lewis. thank you so much." he visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening and the crease between his eyebrows disappearing.

"i'm glad. here, turn around. let me put it on you?" you happily oblige, lifting your hair out of the way after you stand so that he can fasten the delicate clasp over your spine.

it's safe to say that both his and your fans noticed the necklace hanging between your collarbones, sitting just below the star necklace you wear daily on top of your dark grey high-collared shirt. you try your best not to look at the comments on the videos of your interviews, but amelia had shown you one that day after the unedited interview went up online.

"are they dating or something? i can't get over how lewis looks at her."

sunday, 1 december, 2019

after the race, lewis crossing the line not only in p1, more than 16 seconds ahead of the rest of the grid, but with the fastest lap, as well, you're sure to congratulate him on your social media accounts and in person in the pit lane. "lewis!" his head turns at the sound of your voice, and he sees you moving as quickly as you can down the pit lane, neon green paddock pass hanging from your neck alongside the black and purple media pass. your signature converse and light wash jeans complete your outfit, and his heart swells with joy when he sees that you're still wearing the necklace he gave you.

"hey! i'm glad they let you down here after the race. i was a bit worried i'd have to wring a security guard's neck to get you down here."

"aw, you'd do that for little old me?"

"i'd do just about anything for the most interesting reporter in the paddock," he replies, ever so cocky and so annoyingly pretty. seriously, was he a saint or something in his past life? it feels painfully unfair that he was blessed with such perfect looks and charm. it makes your stomach twist with a flirty giddiness you haven't felt since you were a teenager. it's exciting. "are you coming to the after party?"

"i don't know if i'll be able to. i have a lot to do in the next few days and i honestly don't know if i'm going to be able to take a break on the plane back to london. i'll probably be sitting in my seat going over notes and writing up an article or answering an obscene amount of emails."

"please? just one night? i'll buy your drinks." he bats his eyes at you, and it really shouldn't make you fold as easily as it does, but here you are, sitting in his mercedes and driving to a probably very heinously overpriced club.

a girl needs to be a passenger princess every now and then, right?

when you arrive at the club, you have to force your lips to stay closed so that your jaw doesn't drop in shock and awe. paparazzi swarm you as soon as you step out of the car and lewis hands the keys to the valet, and for a moment, you're convinced this is some sort of sick and twisted fever dream as microphones are shoved in your direction and cameras flash quickly enough to make you glad you don't have photosensitive epilepsy. when lewis' hand rests on the small of your back and he smiles brightly at you, though, you're reassured that this is very much real.

"after you." you smile back at him, your own anxiety lessening just a tiny bit now that you know that he's right there by you.

pretty please, come on over and ruin my life

how did you end up here?

you'll blame it on the alcohol.

either way, lewis' lips feel amazing on yours, and you waddle slightly as he backs you up to the bed in his extravagant hotel room. "need this off," he mutters, hands searching under your shirt and gripping at your waist. your brain is a foggy mess of lust, alcohol, and a lot more lust, and as quickly as you can, you pull back from the kiss (much to lewis' dismay,) tug your shirt out of your waistband and yank it over your head, tossing it somewhere to your right. almost immediately, strong arms wrap back around your torso and you're caged in, and every single one of your senses is flooded with lewis, lewis, lewis. his skin is hot underneath where your hands lay, your right on his cheek and your left clutching the side of his neck as if letting go would result in falling off the face of the earth.

his kisses are messy, desperate, and wet. his tongue glides along your own and you moan wantonly, the noise only further spurring on his efforts. as you lay back against the bed, lewis kisses his way down your chest (when did your bra come off?), lavishing each of your breasts with his tongue and hands. one hand works over your flesh, kneading and pinching while his tongue licks over your right nipple, gently biting and sucking and smirking when you moan once again, switching to the other side. "lewis, oh my god-" you interrupt yourself with an embarrassingly loud whine, your back arching as deft fingers pop open the button on your jeans, unzip the fly, and slip into your panties.

"fuck, darling, so wet for me already," lewis groans, his head buried into your neck as he bites gently at the sensitive skin there. "i'm gonna have to get a taste before i fuck you."

"yes, oh my god, please," you whine, the mere thought of the driver between your thighs making another rush of butterflies flood your lower tummy. you almost laugh when you realize that you still have your converse on and he's struggling with the laces, so you lift yourself up off of the bed and shoo his hands away, instead expertly undoing the white laces in less than ten seconds and kicking them off your feet, leaning back onto your elbows as they hit the ground with a muffled thump. "you are way too overdressed."

sure, you've seen photos of lewis shirtless before, but it doesn't compare to seeing it in person and up close, and...

fuck.

he's beautiful.

"that's not fair."

"what?" lewis laughs, crawling back over you after you both pull your pants off and toss them to the side, and your breath briefly catches in your throat as the scent of his cologne overwhelms your senses.

"you aren't allowed to be nice and hot. it doesn't work like that." lewis laughs, leaning down to press another kiss to your lips that intoxicates you more than any of the high proof alcohols you've drank in the past few hours.

"well, i guess i'm a rule breaker, then." he shuffles you up the bed so that your head rests on the plush pillows, sighing in relief when you think he's finally going to fuck you, but you gasp when he slides his way back down to your thighs, pulls them apart with his hands, and settles between them. "fuck."

"lewis, please. need you."

"what do you need, baby?" he teases as his hands begin stroking up and down your thighs. you're about to respond, but you cut yourself off with a cry when his fingers gently stroke up your panty-covered slit, the sensitivity making your back arch and your hands grip the sheets tightly.

"fucking hell, i... i need you to eat me out."

"i thought you'd never ask." his fingers tug at the waistband of your panties and you lift your hips slightly, just enough for him to slide them off of your legs and add them to the growing pile of clothing on the floor. without wasting a second, he dives into your cunt, tongue dragging along your slit from your entrance all the way up to your clit, and you both moan in unison. his hands grab at the meat of your ass, pulling your hips closer to his face, and you yelp, but it's quickly cut off with another moan as lewis' tongue prods at your entrance, hot and insistent.

"mmgh, lewis, fuck, so good." you barely have any control over your own mouth as lewis eats you out, his tongue expertly lapping up every part of your cunt as if it's the best meal he's ever tasted. he quickly figures out what makes you twitch and moan and focuses on that, his nose bumping against your clit as his jaw hinges open and he swallows you whole. his hands tightly grip your ass, the pads of his fingers digging into the skin and definitely leaving some form of marks to appear later in the night, but that's the least of your concerns when you have the world champion of motorsport between your legs. the moans that tumble past your lips echo off of the bare walls of the lavish hotel room, but not a single noise you make is embellished in the slightest- he's just making you feel that good. the coil in your tummy builds and builds, but your brain has been reduced to mush from pleasure, so you have to resort to scrabbling your hands at whatever you can grab, your fingers ultimately tugging at his neat braids. lewis thankfully gets the hint and only increases his efforts, his left hand moving from your ass to gently push two fingers into your entrance, and, when he curls them upwards, perfectly hitting your g-spot, you nearly sob, your orgasm hitting you a lot sooner than you had anticipated. "oh, lewis, don't stop, please. feels so good, baby, fuck."

lewis helps you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm, pulling his fingers out of you and pressing a tender kiss to your hipbone before climbing back up to you and connecting your lips in yet another messy kiss, and you groan when you can taste your cum on his tongue. when lewis' boxer-covered erection grinds against your sensitive clit, your mouth falls open in a gasp, letting him take the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and run against yours. when you kiss him, it feels like you've stepped through the gates of heaven and you're kissing an angel. you suck greedily on lewis' tongue and he moans in response, making you smile into the kiss.

lewis pulls back momentarily and you pout, but the sight before you is absolutely beautiful. his skin glows with a thin sheen of sweat and his lips and chin are covered in a mix of your cum and spit. it's gorgeous. "are you okay with this?"

"more than okay," you grin, leaning up to peck his lips quickly. "it's fantastic."

"in that case, i'd love to fuck you properly..." at his words and the feeling of his lips ghosting down the side of your neck, pressing feather-light kisses along the sensitive skin, you shiver, your hands coming to rest on the sides of his torso. "if you'll have me, of course."

"please do." with another smile, lewis pushes himself up and off the bed, returning promptly with a condom in his hand. you bite your lip and watch eagerly as he pulls down his boxers, and...

fuck.

you're fucked.

"seriously, lewis? are you kidding?" your head falls back with an exasperated laugh, your shoulders shaking as you realize: of course he's big. if he's nice and attractive, then it's almost a guarantee that he's going to have a big dick. "you really just have it all, don't you?" the mattress dips, and you raise your head again, looking back at him as he crawls towards you, almost catlike in his motions.

"i could say the same for you. beautiful, kind, intelligent, an absolutely killer ass..." you scoff and roll your eyes, trying to come up with a cocky response, but your brain short circuits when you feel lewis begin to push the head of his cock into you. "oh, fuck."

"lewis, oh my god," you keen, your hands reaching up and finding purchase on his broad shoulders for stability. his left hand holds your waist while his right grips at your hip, the tightness of his hold almost painful... almost.

"baby, you're so tight. taking me so well. 's like you were made for me." you're pretty sure the words spilling from lewis' mouth are just mindless, sex-brain-induced babbles, but either way, it makes your pussy throb around him, and you both groan in pleasure when his hips finally meet yours. he looks down at you and almost chokes- you look absolutely stunning. your eyes are screwed shut, your lips parted as breathy moans sneak their way past them, and your hair is splayed around your head like a halo.

when you finally manage to pry your eyes open and steady your breathing, lewis is gazing down at you, and you can't help but pull him down for yet another kiss. how many times have you kissed him tonight?

not enough, you decide.

between soft and slow kisses, you breathe out the words that lewis has been praying you'll say: "you can move, lew." when he does, slowly pulling out most of the way before pushing back in, the drag of his cock against your walls makes you shudder, your nails digging into his shoulders and undoubtedly leaving crescent-moon shaped divots in the skin. "oh... oh, fuck, baby."

"you like that, baby? you like having my cock inside of you?"

all you can muster in response is a meek "mhmm," but that isn't enough for him. he grabs your face, forcing you to look at him, and halts his steady thrusts, making you whine.

"use your words. i know you can- you showed me this morning."

"yes!" you sob. "yes, i love feeling you fill me up. i love it, lewis. it feels so good. feels perfect."

"there you go. i knew you could do it." his words make you moan even louder as he resumes his thrusts, this time at a much faster pace. "fuck, look at that. taking me so well... i can even see it. gimme your hand, baby. feel it yourself." he places your left hand low on your stomach, just between your hipbones, and... oh.

oh.

you can feel his dick filling you up under your hand.

"lewis, oh my god!" your moans only increase in volume with his own when he presses down onto the bulge in your tummy with his hand, changing how deeply you feel him, and it sends you hurtling towards your second orgasm of the night embarrassingly fast. "fuck, fuck, lewis, don't stop. feels so good, baby, just like that, yes!" your own hand sneaks around his wrist and rubs circles around your clit, which makes you clench around him, which in turn throws you into your orgasm. "lewis, 'm cumming, 'm cumming, ah!"

"just like that, baby, cum for me. so perfect. so, so perfect." lewis talks and fucks you through your orgasm, his own fingers taking over when yours falter on your clit. when the end of your orgasm trails off, you try to catch your breath, but when your post-orgasmic clarity dawns on you, you realize that lewis didn't cum.

"oh, fuck, lewis... let me suck you off. you didn't cum."

"are you sure? i'm-" he cuts himself off with a grunt, his hips stuttering as he slows his thrusts so as to not hurt you in your oversensitive state, but when you nod, your bottom lip pinched seductively between your teeth, he gives in. "alright, yeah. yeah." he pulls out of you and you roll over, shuffling your way down the bed until you're settled between his legs, your arms resting on his upper thighs.

"you're so pretty, lewis. so, so pretty." if it was a bit brighter in the room, you would've seen the way lewis' mouth ticks open and his dick twitches at your praise, but the singular bedside lamp is barely enough to light the room. instead of noticing, you gently peel the condom off of his cock and toss it in the trash can underneath the bedside table, then settle back between lewis' legs and let a fat drop of saliva leak onto his cock.

"fuck, if you keep saying things like that i'm not gonna last long," lewis groans, his head thrown back into the pillows.

"oh, you don't want to hear me call you pretty? you don't want me to say that you're one of the most beautiful people i've ever laid eyes on, and that i've waited months to be here just to tell you that?" your hand begins lazily stroking his hard cock as you continue rambling shamelessly, your mind a sex-addled haze that you have nearly no control over. after watching in awe as a pearly bead of precum swells at the head of lewis' cock, you decide that enough is enough and that you have to taste him. your tongue falls out of your mouth, the flat of it brushing up the bottom of his dick until you reach the tip, and then you secure your lips around it, and fuck, if having the taste of lewis' cum on your tongue isn't enough to make your eyes flutter shut for a moment, you don't know what is.

lewis' hand finds itself in your hair, pulling gently as you begin to bob your head along the length of his dick, and you can't help but feel pride bloom in your chest when his hips begin bucking up to meet your mouth and hand, shoving the tip so far back you swear the back of your throat might be slightly bruised in the morning. you moan shamelessly as he does so, letting him fuck your mouth as he pleases until he cums, warm ropes of sticky fluid filling your mouth as he spills into you. pulling off, you swallow part of his load and clean what little remains off of his softening cock with gentle kitten licks, smiling faintly as he whimpers quietly at the oversensitivity. after crawling up to the head of the bed and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, lewis' eyes search yours before dipping down to your mouth. you're a bit confused as his left hand comes up to your face, thinking he's going to kiss you again, but instead, his thumb swipes against the corner of your mouth and pries past your lips, a silent order that you obey willingly. you'd missed one tiny drop of his cum on your cheek. his thumb pops out of your mouth momentarily and you collapse down next to him, the exhaustion of the jam-packed day finally catching up to you.

"i'm gonna go grab a towel to clean you up, yeah?" you nod sleepily, a quiet hum escaping your body. "you're staying here tonight. i won't stand for letting you out of my bed for the next twelve hours." this time, if a question mark could be a sound, that's the noise you make. lewis understands you, though. "we'll take my jet. don't worry about your fight." another content sound from you.

by the time lewis returns to the bed, warm damp washcloth in hand, you're asleep, and he can't help but tuck the strands of hair out of your face after he cleans up your swollen cunt and tucks you into the soft bedding, joining you shortly thereafter.

yeah.

he's fucked.

[sukunasbow]

sfw hcs, the specialists.

summary: the specialists and sfw hcs!

warnings: fairy!reader and not fully proof read yet!

notes: i know winx probably doesn’t have much of a fandom on here but honestly this show gives me so much nostalgia so enjoy!

sky ✿

sky spoils you so much, he treats you like a princess, which is ironic considering he’s a prince.

to him, you’re his world, he’d never do anything to hurt you and he loves you so much.

sometimes, when the two of you are relaxing together, he lets you style his slightly long hair.

speaking of relaxing together, that’s one of his favourite dates, when the two of you just spend time at a cafe, getting a break from the chaotic fairy and specialist duties you usually deal with.

brandon ✿

you were one of the few people to first know that sky and brandon switched names. brandon wanted to be completely honest about the switch and you understood due to sky’s feelings about wanting to try a normal lifestyle.

literally the sweetest boyfriend ever, he treats you so good. he’s so gentle and loving with you, your heart melts every time you’re with him.

he doesn’t get jealous that often and neither do you, the two of you trust each other and have a relationship that’s really built on honesty and loyalty.

riven ✿

no one would’ve thought the two of you would get together, as riven has a high temper and you pretty much have no temper, always calm and relaxed. in fact, the only people that suspected something was going on with the two of you were bloom and sky, they always took notice of the flirty comments and subtle touches between the two of you. however, ever since you’ve announced your relationship with the hotheaded specialist, you’ve been extremely happy with him, and your friends started relaxing exactly how much sense the two of you make.

you’re a balanced couple that occasionally has rough patches, as riven can get really jealous and insecure, but you guys always make it out and your love grows even more. riven loves you and never wants to make you feel less than appreciated.

his favourite date with you consists of literally anything that involves you two being near each other, but he especially loves when you and him help your friends defeat the newest villain. he also loves when you cuddle with him, as he’s really just a softie deep down, constantly wanting to be touching you. he’s a huge fan of pda, unless you’re uncomfortable with it.

helia ✿

you and helia go together so well, no one was surprised when the two of you made your relationship official. your both calm and loving people, quickly becoming one of the best couples out of your friend group.

you love his hair so much. he just lets you run your fingers through his hair and style it into stupid little ponytails and buns, the man not even complaining about it, actually secretly enjoying it.

he’s literally the best boyfriend. he is always at your side when you need comfort and he gives you all his love.

timmy ✿

it took a while for timmy to build up the courage to ask you out, but once he did, you happily said yes.

the two of you are the definition of ‘opposites attract.’ you’re outgoing and a social butterfly, compared to timmy, who’s shy and doesn’t talk to many people aside from his friends.

he isn’t a big fan of pda, but behind closed doors, he’s always wanting to be close to you.

[sushirrrry]

CELESTIAL | I. LAW OF UNIVERSAL GRAVITATION 6.1k words - on-going story story summary here ** please be nice, this is the first on-going story I'll be posting!!

Tuesday mornings were nothing to brag about, especially when my statistics class started at eight in the morning. I’d gotten in the simple routine—wake up around six, roll out of bed, take a shower, eat some breakfast, and get on my way.

It was weird what our bodies did normally. The idea of routine, the idea of being simple. Creating routine was one of the easier things that I had been able to teach myself. It was scientific; learned behavior became natural to humans. Practice made perfect.

I always got ready that early and found time to myself before the sun fully rose in the sky. I didn't have a problem waking up early, I never had—maybe that’s what made it easier for me, though. I never bothered my mum about school, or never once tried to sleep-in because I didn’t want to go to school. Something about being up early was always comforting to me.

Well, being up early and being in school were both comforting to me in different ways.

Seeing the moon circle around the earth again was kind of freaking cool, if I was honest. My mum never had to worry about me staying up late and hiding under my covers with a book—well, she did have to worry about that a little bit— but mostly, she had to worry about me taking the telescope to the window so early in the morning.

The moment when the sun and the moon pass because the darkness is fading– everyone always talks about the sunrise, but what about the moon falling? I always liked seeing the change. It was when the night met the daylight, and the world turned over.

This morning wasn’t really like that at all, considering it had been chucking it down with rain since the moment I opened my eyes. The sound of rain woke me up early. I sat with the window open next to my bed, listening to the sounds of it pour off the roof of our apartment.

When six rolled around, I was ready to get up. I rubbed over my eyes, yawning. The glasses that sat on my nightstand were thrown on my face as I trekked to my own bathroom—thankfully, I didn’t have to share with my roommate.

I turned on the shower, letting it run for a minute to warm up. I shivered at the thought of the water hitting me instead. The warm water soothed me this early, breathing in the steam to release anything that had built up in the night. I let it run over my neck and face, feeling the warmth of the water wake me up.

The shower routine turned into brushing my teeth, towel drying my hair a bit, and doing my morning skin routine.

Once the shower was done, I chose a plain black sweatshirt with a hood and a pair of jeans, threw on my old pair of black Vans, and made my way out into the kitchen with my backpack.

All the lights were off still; Chase didn’t have class until around ten, so he was never up this early. He strategically chose to make sure that all his classes were later in the morning because he knew he’d never make them. I smiled to myself at the thought.

I threw a Pop-Tart in my bag and started to head out of the apartment, knowing that I’d have a bit of time to just eat on my way to class instead. Campus was only a short walk, but the rain was chucking it this morning and didn’t seem to be letting us even as I had gotten ready. I decided that I’d just hop in my car and head over to the building instead of walking a mile in the rain.

Parking on the street was the only option for our apartment building, so I hopped into my car and headed towards the main mathematics building on campus. As soon as I turned on the radio, I let the sounds of 1979 by The Smashing Pumpkins in the speakers as I relax against the seat. I push my hand through my damp hair, annoyed that there were a few rain spots on my glasses.

There are a lot more cars on the road around the flats and campus when the weather was bad. Kids always decided to get rides or drive to class themselves, which meant that parking was like receiving a trophy. There were only a few spots here and there.

But, because I was prompt and on time, I got a spot close to the door that I had to go into. I put the car in park, sitting for a moment before I went to grab the Pop-Tart from my bag. I opened it, taking a bite of one of them as I relaxed in the seat and let the sound of the radio mix with the sound of the rain.

It didn’t bother me that I hadn’t spoken to anyone yet that morning. Life was usually quiet. There were people who I knew needed to have that connection of someone else around them. I never understood that.

Silence and the solace seemed to comfort me in a way that wasn’t too explainable. I knew that people worried about it—people saw it as a sign of something worse than it was—it was odd to people who didn’t know how it felt. But I truly felt more comfort in the way that my routine worked, rather than the fast-paced environment of always needing to be around others.

I didn’t let myself down, usually. I had comfort in knowing I was dependable; I would always be there for me.

I was at my own pace; I had my own comfort in satisfaction rather than needing distraction. I was able to work on my own life and not worry about having to work on anyone else’s. There was certainly a difference between being alone and being lonely.

My mum worried I didn’t interact enough, my sister worried that I wasn’t thriving in the space like anyone else was—she liked to project herself onto me at times.

“When I was college, I was at the bars practically every night. You can afford to go every once in a while, you know.” She’d tell me. In some respects, I understood what she meant. There was validity to her concerns for me. And I was glad that she was able to experience what she wanted, and she was able to look back and feel that it made her a better person.

But that didn’t interest me in the slightest, and I think I had to respect that for myself.

I wouldn’t be able to wake up early if I drank too much; it would throw my routine off, and I wasn’t interested in losing that, either. I didn’t want to not know where I was, or how to do something. I didn’t want to lose control like that. The people that I hung around with to study—none of us were interested in that.

I was interested in receiving my degree, I was interested in the mathematic world—I was interested in everything that was built up around the world. I was interested in learning why everything happened and figuring out scenarios that felt impossible and making them work. I was interested in logic and satellite launches that I had to live stream from the space stations.

In school, I was the captain of the academic team and won gold with the national robotics team two years in a row.

Now, I was finally in the part of life where I had always dreamed of having—studying astrophysics and mathematics at Oxford. I was following in the footsteps of only the greatest mathematicians and physicists of my generation, and eventually my name would be just as notable as his.

Stephen Hawking and Harry Styles. I thought they sounded nice next together if I was honest.

I check my phone, noticing I have about fifteen minutes until class begins. I throw my hood over my head before I grab my backpack from the passenger seat. The rain is coming down when I step out in the parking lot. I quickly make my way to the door, holding it open for another person coming in behind me. The hood hangs from my head as I take my glasses off to wipe the residual rain droplets off them.

The lecture hall that I make my way inside is old. It’s not been updated in so many years, but something about that makes it feel that much more incredible to be walking the same halls of some of the most extraordinary brains to ever exist.

Even if it’s for a general ed statistics course that I need to fill; it’s one of the easiest courses on my schedule this year. I didn’t fill it first year, as I wanted to give myself the most difficult courses I could my first year. I was excited to learn—and statistics wasn’t what I wanted to enjoy when I was in college.

So, I decided to add it in this semester. It’s almost October now—we’re a few weeks into my sophomore year. I’ve loved every minute of being here in this establishment, and I’ve loved everything that it has brought me.

My gravitational pull to this place feels right, and being in this class must have meaning other than the obvious need to graduate. Maybe something will strike—maybe a thought or something that the professor says will undoubtedly make me think about all the other unanswered questions.

I take a seat closer to the back; I think it helps me to be able to set all my papers out in front of me and be able to take notes where I need to. I’m not a huge note person, as I just try to listen. I feel it helps to just keep my mind open. Information goes in, and seemingly, just stays there.

I’m one of the first ones in the hall, but as the time starts to near, there’s around a hundred kids that take up the lecture hall—easily. It’s a gen-ed course, which means that it’s kids from all over the university. The row I’m in is seemingly empty; kids don’t always show up to class, a lot of kids like sitting closer to be able to see what the professor is drawing on the board to try to copy for themselves.

I basically teach myself as I sit with the textbook, trying to follow along with the professor’s words and everything seemingly makes sense.

I pull my water bottle out of my bag to take a sip. The sound of the room in seemingly quiet except for the professor’s words; my brain is focused on the ideas of categorical equations and numeric sequences before an overwhelming presence takes over to the right of me.

“Excuse me,” I hear the voice again, a bit closer to me, “Is this seat taken?” I hear as I stare at the front of the room. I turn my head to the side a bit in a little confusion.

She's standing there with absolutely dripping hair; her jacket is sand-colored but looks like it’s coated in water droplets. She has the most doe-eyed stare I'd ever laid my own on; her eyes are chocolate and amber at the same time and for some reason I don’t know why I can’t answer right away.

I’m not even recognizing that I’m staring until I can't let my eyes leave, and I watch her shift on her toes a bit impatiently before she looks at the students behind us.

“Oh– no, no it's open.” My voice is quiet, as the professor is talking only up ahead. I'm trying to pay attention to both, trying my best to be respectful to the professor and the girl next to me who’s trying to find a seat even though it’s almost halfway through the lecture.

I move my backpack from the seat that she goes to pull out, my hands place the backpack under the desk near my feet instead. My eyes try not to drift, but I can't help but watch as she starts to unpack her belongings. There's a notebook, which is undeniably wet, and a small textbook which we use for the class.

Also, soaking. Dripping, practically.

“Fuck,” She curses, her hands going to run through the dripping pages before she lets her backpack fall to the floor in a huff.

I can tell that her stress level is at a high, all her belongings are soaking wet from what looks to be walking to class in the rain. I’m watching as she fumbles her way around her bag, trying her best to wipe some of the water off, trying to salvage what’s left.

But it’s obvious that most of her belongings have been ruined from the rain.

“Do you need paper?” I ask her, my quiet voice possibly too quiet as she starts to search through her bag without acknowledging me.

She didn’t hear me. I adjust in my seat a little bit, maybe seeing if she would look over from just my movements. She was distracted from trying to piece herself back together, and I could tell that her brain wasn’t in the place to hear anything else.

I clear my throat, turning a bit towards her again so maybe my voice would be heard. “Sorry, do you need some paper?”

Her head jerks towards me, almost a bit in shock like she was surprised I was talking to her at all. I watch as her face goes from an anxious state to a more softened one when she sees that she's also startled me in the process.

“Oh,” She nods a few times. “Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”

I opened my folder up, pulling a few blank pages out to hand to her. I see that her nails are chipped lilac when she goes to grab them.

The paper was gifted to me every year from my grandfather who was the one providing me the opportunity to go to college in the first place. Well, providing the funding for this adventure, at least.

So, in true Styles fashion, the small H.S. imprinted on the top with a simple logo of Saturn sat next to it. It was an official letterhead, and it was the only loose paper I had with me.

For a moment, I thought about forgetting the whole thing because in honesty, this was a bit embarrassing– but my brain and my actions didn't catch up as I handed her a few sheets and watched her eyes trace over it.

I can tell a hint of a smile when she sees the writing up on it at the top, her pen clicking in the process. In our lecture hall, there are over a hundred kids sitting and listening about chi-squares tests and the uses of categorical variables.

And I seemed to miss a bit of the conversations due to lack of concentration, a bit of distraction. That never really happened to me before, but this overwhelming scent of orange blossoms must have been trailing from her. An obvious distraction, but not one that I thought I would be caught up in.

I push my glasses on my face as I go to write down a specific note that was mentioned by the professor about possibly being on the test for tomorrow. I had caught that bit, thankfully.

The girl next to me sighs; the audible noise of annoyance is obvious when I look over at her. Her eyebrows are knit together as she pulls out her agenda, making more noise that just seems to be audible to me as we’re a few of the only ones in our row of seats.

When she notices that the notes of her calendar are also damp, she settles back in her chair for a minute.

“God fucking damnit.” She huffs. She takes a ribbon around her wrist. Pulling her hair back frantically into a taut ponytail, she holds her head in her hands, staring at the dampened notebook. “Could this day get worse? We have an exam tomorrow?”

I hear her words, and I'm not sure that she's talking to me or if she’s just speaking out into the universe. So, I stay quiet for a moment before I look up and feel that her head has turned to me. She was addressing me again, so I turn to see the amber eyes pleading at me as if I was the one who set the test schedules.

“I’m– uh, we really have a exam tomorrow?” She asks again; this time, I see she's looking at me with a worried glare.

“Yeah, uh,” I flip through a few papers to grab the printed-out syllabus to show her. I clear my throat, trying to stay quiet. “It's just going to be on basic inferential and standard deviation, I think. Maybe a bit of categorical stuff, we just learned that on Tuesday, but I'm going to confirm with the professor after class. Not hard stuff, so we should be good.”

I watch as she looks away from me for a moment, “I just…yeah, I don't know. Statistics and I aren't really friends, I guess. I don't understand it at all, and I already feel like I’m behind. It's only the third week– fuck.”

She sounds stressed, and I feel bad. I don't know what to say to her, because I'm still not entirely sure if she's talking to me or if she's taking to herself. I just know that I'm listening and I'm struggling between involving myself and leaving it be.

“Thank you all. Let me know if you have questions, I will see you tomorrow for the exam.”

The professor’s words made everyone start to stand up, grabbing their materials to leave. Her eyes look around the room in the same amount of panic.

“Shit– lecture is already over?” She says, checking her phone time. The way that her shoulders shrug down is so dismissive as she looks around at the kids starting to move up the aisles and towards the door.

“It’s only a fifty-minute lecture,” I tell her softly, trying to not make her any more upset. “Do you—” I take in a breath, wondering if I’m starting to intrude on her life and what she’s needing, but I still feel like I have the obligation to ask, “I mean, do you have some questions about the test tomorrow?”

I see her looking over some of the notes—some of the papers that weren’t completely drenched by the rain that I can tell that she raced through to be here. Her eyes fall down the messiness of the handwriting. I can tell that there were many times she messed up, or times she didn’t completely understand something and wrote in the margins. There’s ink everywhere, I don’t know how she stays organized or knows what she’s looking at.

The scratches over things are plentiful, and I relax in my seat rather than starting to get up like everyone else.

Maybe she doesn’t even know where to begin. It’s our first exam in this class, but I’m not worried about it in the slightest bit. I’ve passed through Calculus and Algebra, and since this is just a required class for graduation, I know that I don’t have to worry.

She starts to shake her head as she looks flustered, throwing her papers back into a folder with finality.

“I’m not trying to hold you up, you probably need to get somewhere—I'll just, um, I’m sorry.” She shakes her head, zipping up her backpack quickly.

She’s trying her best to get away, and I can see that she’s possibly a bit embarrassed by how quickly she came in. How she wasn’t just late to class, but she also didn’t seem to have any idea about what was going on in the first place.

It seemed that maybe she had something else on her mind, and I don’t thinks he can be faulted for that.

“No,” I shake my head, standing up with my backpack to mimic her. It hangs from my shoulder on one side, pulling it up a bit as I watch the lecture hall clearing out quite quickly. “No, I’m not in a hurry. I mean—”

“Just—thanks for the paper. That was nice of you.” The girl gives a soft smile, the softest smile that her face can seem to manage as I notice that she seems to be a bit upset. Her back turns to me and I’m now left standing there with no one else now.

I look around for a moment, thinking about what I was doing before my life was interpreted in a way. My life is always so ruled by the way that I wanted to live it—I was not easily distracted, my mind never really went to places that felt fuzzy or uneven.

But something about that interaction left me a bit speechless. I don’t even know her name, but something about that made my brain feel a little bit blurry.

There’s another person down with Professor Turvel, asking questions about the exam for tomorrow, I was certain. I knew that I needed to go down there—to make myself known and question the best ways to solve the problems, to understand what needed to be studied the most. Most people didn’t take these kinds of classes seriously, but anything that had to do with my education was serious to me.

I always asked questions—every time there was a exam, I made sure I had all the notes to understand concepts and what would exactly be on the exam so I could stay up and ensure that I knew the concepts like the back of my hand. Sometimes, the professors even assured me that I would know all the material, and not to worry so much. That didn’t keep me from asking.

As I watched the girl moving to leave the lecture hall, opening the door herself because someone hadn’t held it open for her. An instinct rose in me that was so foreign that I hadn’t understood it before.

I didn’t know why I decided to follow her instead. But my feet drug me up the steps and towards the door that would lead out into the halls, where kids were now scattered. Her backpack was purple, a dark purple with small white polka-dots. It should have been a bit easier to find, but I just held my stance at the door, turning my head to see if I could find her.

I’d know her if I saw her, she was distinctive, striking, even. Her dark hair and eyes shone against the warm tones of her skin. When she came in, it was a curly mess—dark curls, practical ringlets.

I held onto the shoulder strap of my bag, watching as kids were moving out of the corridors to head out to their next classes and outside. It seemed that she must’ve slipped out, gotten away from me when I had been looking for her.

Letting out a sigh, I lick over my lips softly. My shoulders let go—I try to push the thoughts out of my mind. Instead, it was time for me to start to prepare for my next class of the day. I had a physics class just upstairs, but I would show up prematurely to prepare and write all my calculations on the board for the lab portion of it.

It was best to be early so I could collaborate with fellow students, and it was even encouraged to allow for that time. I pull my backpack fully onto my back, both straps on my shoulders as I start to head towards the stairs to the lecture halls that were situated upstairs. They were smaller, for the specified classes.

I pulled my backpack around my middle for a moment to grab the headphones that I had placed in the small pocket in the front for my short walk. When I go to insert the headphones into my ears, I do a double take because I’m not sure that I believe my eyes as they seem to possibly trick me.

Over by the large doors. Purple with white polka-dots. The phone against her ear is being held up unwillingly; she doesn’t look like she’s invested in the conversation, but mostly upset by it.

I watch as she shakes her head, her mouth stern as she speaks into the receiver. Instantly, she takes the phone away and shakes her head before placing her thumb to end the call.

I couldn’t make out what she’s saying because we’re still too far apart. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m staring, or that I’m listening in at all. My feet guide me towards the general area, as the door to the stairs is just around the corner from where she’s standing.

She’s standing there with her arms crossed, looking out of the door as if she’s waiting for someone. It looks a bit impatient; she’s just as upset as she was back in the lecture hall, and maybe now even more so.

I don’t know what it means, but it seems that she’s a bit off and I just can’t let it go. I don’t know what’s gotten into me this morning, but my feet seem to only… pull me closer. I’d have to debate Newton’s laws of gravitational pull, because the Earth’s axis seemed to be tilting just a bit.

Wherever she seemed to be is where gravity was pulling. And nothing about that made sense in the logical world, so my brain was a bit scattered about how that could have even been a possibility.

In an anxious turn of my shoe, I head towards her. I pivot from walking towards the steps and decide that a soft approach towards her is an option that I’m willing to take.

“Um, I’m sorry—I’m not trying to interrupt,” I approached her, softly. As one would a wounded animal, like she might get scared if I spoke loud enough. Her head turns towards me, her fingers move up against her cheek as she tries to look more pulled together, like she was unraveling quickly.

I notice that there’s a tear stain on her cheek, but she did her best to clear it away. Something about that doesn’t sit right with me and I clear my throat as I try to not embarrass her by noticing.

When she doesn’t speak, I just shake my head a little, trying to make sense of what’s come over me.

“I—I mean, are you okay? You,” I push my glasses up on my nose, “Are you waiting for someone?"

Crossing her arms over her chest, she takes in a deep breath. I watch the sleekness of her hair back in the ponytail cross over her shoulder when she stares at the ground.

I’ve always been partial to understanding when people were upset. I didn’t know what it was. My mum always told me I was just sensitive, my sister telling me that I probably watched too much Bambi as a kid.

Something about watching someone suffer endlessly, without another word, hit home. I didn’t want her to feel like she was alone, if she didn’t want to be. That was the difference—I wanted to be alone most of the time, so I didn’t mind. But that didn’t mean that she did. Maybe she wasn’t—maybe I was overstepping. As I overthought it, I shifted on my feet as she stood in a solitude of silence from the corridors of the university filtering out for the next sessions.

But it just felt like my heart was understanding right now.

“I’ve just had a... difficult morning, really,” She starts, shrugging. The problems are brushing off her shoulders when she looks up at me once again. I see that the sadness reigns in her eyes, but it’s being shielded by the layers of needing to show that everything was fine. “I’m okay. Seriously. I know this probably looks insane but trust me. I’m fine.”

There wasn’t anything I could do but trust that she was. I didn’t know her—I didn’t even know her name. I didn’t know anything else about her, and while I could notice that there were still tears welled up in her eyes, the smile had been the greatest mask of it all.

I nod at her, taking the moment to try to understand if that’s the cue to leave. When she starts to turn around just a bit, I settle with the idea that the conversation has ended. It’s ended, and it’s time for me to move back towards the stairs.

My brain recomputes that I have physics in about twenty minutes, and I’m going to go upstairs to dispute Hawking’s radiation theory of black holes. That’s where the gravitational pull is taking me next—it has to be.

As I go to place the earbud back into my ear, making a few steps towards the door that held the stairs, I hear the voice again.

“Hey,” Her voice rings out just a bit, as we’re now the only two in the corridor of the hallways. I turn my head back, our eyes reconnecting. Her eyes blink a few times as she lets out a sigh, which almost makes her look like she could break down at any moment, but I hold my breath. It looks like she had been holding in that breath for a while, so her shoulders drop to meet mine. “Do you—what if I did have questions about the exam tomorrow?”

I don’t know if words come out of my mouth in an answer, so I’m trying to compute what she said. Unfortunately, I think that she notices so she presses on.

“Like, could you help me study?” She asks, pressing on. “You said it was easy—I just, I need some extra help because I—I just have a lot going on.”

I pause in my tracks, not anticipating her questions or flat-out asking for my help.

“Oh.” I swallow dryly, as she stares at me with the slightest bit of eagerness for my answer I hadn’t noticed that in her eyes before, and I’m not sure that I’m used to it. I’m not sure that I’m prepared for how… she looks with hope coating her eyes. “Oh—yeah, I mean, I’ll be in the library tonight around six if you want to, like if you want to come study or something.” I shrug, “I can help you.”

I watch as a hint of a smile starts to turn at the edges of her lips. She holds the crossing on her arms over her chest tightly, as if to feel an odd sense of comfort from it.

“Can I meet you there tonight, then? You won’t mind?” She asks, her voice a bit unsure. It’s like I’d say no, even though I was the one who offered in the first place.

I’m still taken aback by the response of her wanting to meet me there at all. Thursday nights usually meant that the library was the quietest day in the week. Most people went out on Thursday’s around here to start their weekend—it was apparently the best bar deals, but I hadn’t taken advantage of that.

It was the best day to be in the library, just because of that.

“Yes. Yeah, of course, you can—” I pause for a moment, blinking a few times as I stick my hand out to her recognizing how I hadn’t even introduced myself to her yet, “Sorry—I’m Harry.”

Her eyes widen just a bit at my words before she starts to giggle a bit, her hand fitting into mine. My molars bite the inside of my cheek just at the grip, the softness of her hand in my palm has me distracted for a moment.

“Stella.”

Stella.

Stella. Stella. Stella. Stella.

“Star.” I say, a bit under my breath. She tilts her head a little bit at my whisper before I shake my head with a little bit of a laugh. I feel embarrassed that I spoke out loud and she heard, so I just try to explain the thought process with a simple shrug.

“It’s, your name, it’s ‘star’ in Latin,” I pull on the strap of my bag before I’m biting on my lip a little bit, “It’s a nice name.”

I watch as Stella’s face has started to turn into more of an arraigned softness; her features not as harsh, her brow isn’t knit.

“Sorry, I don’t know the origin of Harry.” Her chuckle is playful as she shakes her head.

“It, uh,” I rub the back of my neck as I feel an odd hint of embarrassment play on my cheeks, “Means ‘home’. Or something like that.”

As I watch her face, I study it as best as I can without seemingly staring, I watch her eyes move between mine.

I look away when I notice that she hasn’t—she’s still looking for a moment longer. I clear my throat to try to break up the instant staring game that we’ve started. I check my phone in an awkward angle to get out of the moment that has seemingly turned quiet, when I recognize how long I’ve been standing here.

9:26.

“Shoot,” I say quickly, “I have class in a few minutes. I’ll—”

She cuts me off as I adjust my bag on my shoulder, hoisting it up.

“Oh, fuck—I’m going to be late.” She checks her own phone to confirm the time for herself before the smile catches on her face, “I’ll see you tonight, Harry.” Stella confirms, nodding a few times.

Before I know it, I watch as she walks behind me and towards the other door on the other side of the hallway. I didn’t even get a chance to ask for her phone number—knowing I’d stumble my way through that sentence.

Not really a sentence I’ve ever really asked casually before.

It was odd—that feeling in my brain. The feeling of blurriness, almost like nothing had been in there at all. It was like every thought I’d had was placed into a certain box now, unable to think of anything else except for the way that Stella’s eyes were merely amber and bronze all at the same time.

I shook my head, thinking that the physical movement may take my attention back to what I was supposed to keep my eye on. I put my headphones back in, moving towards the stairs as I climb them quickly.

I wouldn’t have enough time to write all my worked equations on the board. But, for the first time in my entire life, there was a feeling of ease that happened to replace the anxious voices that mirrored in my head. There was confusion; one unexplained.

Having to be smart enough.

Having to be good enough.

Having to be enough.

Logically, this didn’t make sense—this feeling of satisfaction that rested in my chest and head. It was like an overcome sense of relief.

Maybe Hawking had a theory to explain this feeling that had completely dismissed my thoughts and worries— it had complete trampled it, made me unaware of the worry that I may be late to class, or that I may not be prepared. Maybe it had already been explained and logic had nothing to do with it.

I shook my head at the thought, entering the familiarity of the physics lab. The third table to the right was where I placed all my belongings in the same routine that I had made for weeks.

This time, just another atom of a thought processes through my brain and into my cerebrum—allowing the thoughts to muster and to sit as I thought about what I would be doing for the next eight hours.

The library never made me feel lonely, and for once, I wouldn’t be alone.

And today, I was okay with that.

________________

THANK YOU FOR READING THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THIS <3 please please please let me know what you think!!! I'm excited to share this with a new audience, so please be nice!!

[potatounicoorn]

The thing is, Callum was not alone in Finnegrin's room. Bait, Stella and Zym were there with him. Which also means:

They saw him do dark magic.

And Ezran can speak to animals.

[rivensdefenseattorney]

The Girls' Hair (Part 2)

Stella

As a royal, Stella isn't allowed to have any distracting accessories in her hair, and always has to an elegant and neat appearance. She's constantly trying to push the limits of the rules by styling her hair in a way that suits whatever outfit she's wearing. She takes a lot of pride in maintaining the health and appearance of her hair.

Flora

Flora naturally incorporates ribbons and flowers that reminds her of the time she used to spend playing with her sister in the forests of Linphea. She often braids her hair due to how much time she spends hiking in the wilderness, or working within a lab, so she enjoys be have a little fun while doing it.

Musa

After losing her mother, Musa has grown a resentment towards her long hair. She finds comfort in keeping it short, and always makes sure to cut it before it grows out too long.

Later on, after confronting and healing some of her trauma, she discovers a new appreciation for her long hair. Trying different styles as she grows it out again.

__________________________

Winx Rewrite Master Post

Part 1

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

Itty-bitty ficlet based on the new clip, featuring Callum pining and Stella being annoyed.

Stella wasn't stupid.

Her adorableness was a distractor, but even though she was young and fluffy, fluff did not make up the space between her eyes.

She observed. She deduced. And she wanted to kill herself over how utterly oblivious and stupid people were.

Especially her people. She'd decided that Callum was her human now, too, in addition to Rayla. Her papa, even though he wasn't quite aware of it yet.

He was not, in fact, sitting here on an uncomfortable, freezing hunk of ice talking endlessly at her about the stupid shipwreck in front of them.

"So sad" hung in the dry, frozen air, Stella watching him carefully as his hand moved across the page of paper in front of him.

He was talking about his relationship with Rayla (even if he didn't realize it), which had made painstakingly slow progress since she'd returned to him. They both acted as if the other weren't completely obsessed with them, as if they were treading on a frozen lake and one misstep would sink them for good. Stella didn't have to be older or even wise to understand that relationships and boats weren't the same in that aspect.

Relationships could be salvaged. Rayla had repeated it to herself like a maniac as she picked her way across the continent, almost manifesting it. Stella had come to realize it, even if Callum and Rayla hadn't. She almost wished she didn't, either, simply because it was so aggravating.

Stella only wished Ezran were here. It was their right to take things at their own pace, but by the gods, she wanted to rip her own fur out. She'd have made the young, kind king relay the message consisting mostly of profanities, the gist of which would be "Get your shit together and make out, already."

That would be the entire message, actually.

She moved to sit on the human's hand, so big compared to Rayla's, when he set it down to look at the drawing sitting on his lap. A few rough outlines of the boat, but just as she'd known, a pretty bust drawing of Rayla, head tilted slightly and a smile splitting her face framed by her wispy bangs, heart-eyeing at some invisible thing not depicted. Likely Callum, at least she was sure he was hoping.

Stella muttered to herself as she reached for the pencil in his other hand. The mage smiled softly when he realized what she wanted, gently handing it to her.

Stella made sure he was looking at her as she furiously pointed to Rayla.

Good. He'd racked up plenty of points in his favor, but his endless cooperation--at least with her and her elf--was always nice.

"Okay. Rayla," Callum began, leaning forward in curiosity as he began interpreting her message.

Holding the pencil in her top two sets of arms, Stella drew a crude, lumpy heart and looked back to him.

"Heart? Love?"

She nodded.

"Rayla love- loves," Callum murmured to himself, and Stella pointed to him, jabbing a paw into his chest.

"Me?"

She nodded furiously.

Callum held her, allowing her to sit on his huge palm, and offered a scratch under the chin. "I know, Stella," he confessed. "I feel the same. It's just... scary."

Who cared? These two punched banthers for breakfast, and Callum was scared of talking to the girl who'd gone through hell and back to return to him? He was smart, but unbelievably stupid.

Stella shrugged, hoping it conveyed a million words of "who cares?" and "so what?" and "don't let it stop you." But, most importantly, "you can change things."

That had been what roped Rayla in, she'd confessed once in the darkness of a treetop, sitting back against the trunk and the sadness in her eyes reflecting off a sword she stared at. Breaking the cycle of violence and doing better, and now he was continuing it because giving up was just so impossibly, unfairly easy. He had to at least give it a shot again the way he'd convinced her to.

It worked, apparently.

Callum fisted his free hand in his lap, gazing back to the ship Rayla was still scoping out.

"I guess you're right," he said thoughtfully, eyes brightening the way Rayla's always did when she'd talked about Callum as if he'd still been hers before the high came crashing back down to reality. "Leave us alone tonight? Give us space?"

She grinned and nodded, only hoping she wouldn't have to plug her ears, too. It was about time.

[sainzinnorris]

nico rosberg is obsessed with lewis 😍😍😍

of course he is. they met at the age of 12/13 ish and have been friends for two decades. they've been friends for almost as long as they've been in the sport. they were friends in their very formative years. although the sport brought them together, it doesn't mean it was just the sport alone that held them together.

they were kids too. they were competitive in everything. from racing to see who finishes pizzas first to making promises under the grecian skies of being in formula one together. lewis went from watching nico's debut monaco gp in 2006, to actually getting their shared podium in 2008, the famous cool down room hug and the sheer content in their eyes.

nico rosberg fundamentally shaped lewis hamilton and vice versa. it's undeniable no matter how many times lewis refuses to say his name but leaves presents for nico's daughter. no matter how many times lewis physically dodges out nico and sneaks away , he'll always know about nico's retirement because nico had texted him about it upon which they had a little chat about.

so of course nico knows lewis. how lewis is as a person, as a driver and a world champion. so he knows the exact corners where he loses time, his racing style, what he's comfortable with, and how he's literally the ❛ greatest of all time . . . ❜

so he's entitled to criticize and praise lewis however he wishes because he knows him. he knows lewis both objectively and subjectively. the reason why nico's opinion weighs in heavier is because of their shared history that was beyond the sport. he will always be his best friend irrespective of the potentially irreparable damage, their history runs deep and is etched into their hearts forever.

so if he wants to run a fucking show about everything lewis, he's entitled to do so, without any criticism from anyone..😐

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter 21 (Loki x Fem Reader Crossover Series, Court of Thorns and Roses AU)

Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters- Especially the events in the second book, A Court of Mist and Fury and onwards. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him.

Chapter Summary: You are reunited with your husband. And a new key to defeating Grendel is revealed. Prompting the beginning of several journeys across time in Midgard. Starting in Buffalo, NY, 1901.

Word Count: 6K (make some tea)

Series Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ SMUT! SMUT at the beginning!(Masturbation, penis in vagina sex). Curse Words. Bullying. Mentions of violence. Grammar and spelling mistakes that slipped my radar. A plot hole that I will figure out how to fill later. Proceed with caution, but I take full responsibility for how I portray dark subject matter and if it is not done tastefully or well. If I miss anything that could be triggering, it is your responsibility to tell me as soon as possible so I can tag it here. Otherwise, enjoy!

DICK-tionary: Smut starts at "Loki....Loki, please, I need you," and ends at “Hold me, just hold me now- please,” you pleaded."

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract@eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@fandxmslxt69@skittslackoffilter@mischief2sarawr @asgards-princess-of-mischief

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Loki carried you to his bed.

 No, it wasn’t just his bed anymore, you reminded yourself. It was your bed. 

Laying you down on top of it, not caring for the stains of dirt and blood on your nightgown, he hovered gently over you. He pressed his lips to yours. His body pressing on top of you. You cupped his face and kept him close. Already your hips touching. You pulled in for another kiss. You wrapped your arms around him. 

No more fire. No more blood. You needed tenderness. Intimacy. Wanting to forget your name, forget everything except him. To not feel the hilt of a blade. Instead, you felt his hand bunching up your skirt, exploring your leg again as if it was the first time he saw your care skin.

Reaching out your hand onto his, you led it up your body. Your skirt was left as you led him to touch you. You stopped the path on one of your breasts. You could hear the breath in him tighten as he felt it, bunching it up to see how the bodice of your gown was lowering. Wanting to show him more.

“Loki…please…please, I need you…” you begged.

He paused and released his hand. 

“Shhh,” he hushed you.

One of his long fingers traced your cheek, going down from your neck to the collar of your nightgown. A tiny gasp came out of you as he dragged it down.

“No need to remind me, my dear. The way you react when I touch you- I know you need me…”

. You shivered as that one long finger went between your breastbone. His eyes greedily searching for your nipples, perked beneath the whiteness.

“My poor little wife, all alone out there without me…”

He lowered his finger’s trail to your stomach. He then went to beneath your skirt, feeling your leg again. 

“How badly did she miss me, I wonder?”

Going up, just barely before your entrance. You felt your hips buck to him. A smile of deviousness graced your husband’s lips. You were getting wet between your legs, you felt your breath hitch and part of you tremble. Then he removed it.

“What a pitiful little gown you have on. Now that you’ll be in here every night, I’ll have you wearing ones of silk that cover even less. And only for me. Yet this…”

He undid the bodice of your nightgown and pulled it down over your shoulders, revealing your breasts.

“You may as well be naked in this! I may as well…”

He tugged it down and you helped him.  Flicking it off to the floor. With a simple flick, your nightgown vanished and you were naked.

“Well, well- what do we have here?” he teased.

This time his hand caught your bare breast and squeezed it, a thumb over the nipple. You let out a moan.

“Tell me, my pet- did you miss me?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed out.

“Did you get wet at the thought of me? Of our little trysts?”

“I…I did…”

He went to your ear, barely kissing it as he whispered.

“Did you touch yourself then?” he whispered.

“Yes…”

He went to your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.

“I would do it…alone…in my room…it would be night…I’d be lonely, I couldn’t sleep…and I would think of you….I’d think of the cabin. When you deflowered me. Then when you took me on the table. Or our wedding night..and I…I…I needed you and…and I remembered where you would touch me, so I…”

He took your wrist gently and moved it to your sex.

“Show me how…how would you touch yourself at night, alone in your bed…” he whispered.

With a breath, you slid one finger in, rubbing it against your swollen clit. You began to strum it at a steady rhythm, your hips moving to it. A moan escaped you. He watched greedily, smiling wide.

Your breath hitched. You felt something rise. You made the strumming faster, opening your legs wider.

“L-Loki- I’d-I’d think of you…think of you and…”

He grabbed your wrist and pinned it above you.

“Wait- wait,” he ordered.

The lungs in your air nearly halted. You were frustrated- so close to release. And here he was, as clothed as you were naked.

“There’s a certain sight you’ve been missing, my dear…and your poor little fingers could never quite recreate what we have here…let me fix both…”

With a tilt of his head, his clothes vanished as well. You took in his strong abdominals, the little dark hairs on his chest, his wide pectorals for his slim frame. His cock- large and so hard it touched his stomach.

Loki leaned closer. He pinned you down onto the bed. You felt his erection near you, grazing your skin, your body. He grabbed your legs and hoisted them up.

“I want you loud…your parents will know who gives their good little girl pleasure every night…I want you loud…I want every person in this castle to hear, and when you cum it’s my name you’ll be crying out- they’ll know who you married to…and no man in that muddy town and no man in that castle can lay hands on what is mine, hm? Because none can make her cum like I can…”

He stopped your hand, raising it back up. He teased your entrance and you felt yourself shiver.

“Loki…Loki please…just…just take me, fuck me- fuck me into this bed…”

He lowered himself. You eagerly pulled yourself and kissed his neck. That was where he was weak. He let out a groan as you did. Your hips met his. Your entrance grazed him.

“Please….just love me…fuck me…” you begged in whispers between kisses.

He hovered right where he would be inside you. 

“Wait…” he rasped. You were shaking, desperate for him.

“Tell me you’re mine…and I’ll give you what you want…”

Part of you froze beneath him.

“Say it!” he ordered sharply.

“I-I-I’m yours!” you whispered.

He smiled.

“Good….good little wife…”

With one thrust he was inside you. Deep, a right angle, hitting past your clit. You moaned out.

“Yes-yes like that- Norns-I’ve missed this-I’ve missed you-Filling you-Feeling you around me, trying to have all of me- and doing it-” he groaned out.

He held up your legs and then slammed his hips in. You let out a cry. His pace increased.

“You-you wanted-wanted to be fucked?! Here-” he said.

With a gasp, he got fast.  He was harsher than when he took your maidenhead in the cabin on a winter’s night. He began to pound into you. Your breasts bouncing. 

“Oh! Oh god-god-fuck-fuck yes-” You cried out.

“Yes, I’m your god- and-and you want to cum, don’t you?” he panted as he pounded into you. “God, you beneath, begging for me-I’m-I’m not gonig to last either-I-”

One hand lowered to your clit, edging you on. The spinning rose. The bed was already hitting the wall.

“Yes-I’m yours- Loki-Loki I’m-I’m going to-to-”

The pleasure burst. A moany, desperate “F-fuck!” flew out of you.

 A sound came from Loki as he too reached his climax and groaned in gradual spurts. As if it grew out of him. His hot seed shooting inside you.

He was panting, his mouth open. His blue eyes opened to look down at you and a smile was on him, despite himself.

“Hold me, just hold me now- please,” you pleaded.

Loki released how he held himself and gently lowered on top of you. Not for lust, but for tenderness.  He held onto you and nuzzled into your skin. Hugging him back, you rubbed your fingers in circles against his back. The silence was filled with your souls returning to your body. 

Catching your breath, you released a little of the embrace to look into his eyes. 

“I love you,” you whispered. 

He smiled. No ironic smirk, but a genuine, sweet smile. He leaned into your touch.

“I love you so much I cannot even say a thing right now…” he replied.

“Then don’t,” you said.

Moving your arms back around his body, you pulled him close. Embracing each other in silence, feeling each other’s pulse, and the movement of breath in the other. And not saying one word but basking in the warmth of each other. If there was a Heaven or Valhalla, you knew you had tasted it now.

Minutes passed blissfully. Until you felt your stomach’s emptiness like a knife inside of you. Then you whispered a request into his ear. Loki nodded and conjured soft robes of silk for both of you. 

He opened the door, gesturing for a servant in the hallway to approach him.

“Please bring my wife something to eat,” he asked.

The servant nodded and left. Soon they returned with a meal on a golden platter..

As Loki accepted it, you heard the Servant begin to speak boldly.

“Your parents say there is a crucial meeting in an hour. It’s concerning Grendel. They hope you and the Princess shall be present. It is in the usual room,” he reported.

“Very well. Tell them we shall be ready, then,” he said.

The Servant nodded. Then Loki closed the door and walked over to the bed as you sat on it. He set the platter on top of the covers. With the roasting chicken smelling fresh, as well as noticing butter on the vegetables and bread, you found yourself salivating.

 As you tucked in, you didn’t want to think of how now realms were in danger. How Odin knew Loki’s secret and how he would only have shared glory as a hero. That you had to recover to have your powers returned.

You wanted to enjoy what pleasures you had in your life while you still had them before they could be taken away from you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The servants delivered a change of clothes. You put on a golden dress. Its silky material is soft as skin, making you run your hands on it to feel how it slides cleanly. Loki donned his traditional dark green and black leather. Looking in the mirror, you hardly recognized a face without petticoats. 

“Do I look like an Asgardian?” you asked.

“You’re missing an eye patch like Father,” he teased.

An exhale of laughter shot from you and you smiled at him.  

“Don’t fret- you are royalty now. They should be concerned about looking like you instead,” he assured you.

Loki offered his elbow and you placed an arm around his as you left the room to head to the meeting. Your footsteps echoed down columned hallways.

When you arrived, your husband knocked. Voices hushed from inside and a servant opened. 

How different that little meeting looked with so many more faces inside.

 There was the usual circle of the variants. Thomas talked to Jonathan as they looked over a book between them. Hal and Robert already seated. But now The royal family was added- Odin, Frigga, and Thor. Even Stella sat on a table with her sewing on her lap as Sif stood behind her, one hand on the hilt of the sheathed sword on her hip.

Odin cleared his throat.

“Now, then- let us commence,” The AllFather intoned.

He gestured and everyone standing sat into a chair. They creaked against the floor as people moved theirs. For a second, eyes looked uneasily on him. Beneath the table, your hand reached for Loki’s and he held it.

“It is no longer wise for your little club to face Grendel alone. Especially if he is a threat to our people and our realm, you will need our army, our warriors,” Odin began.

You hated that you agreed with every word he said.

“But the true reason I have called this is because it appears that one of you has made a crucial discovery…” Odin continued. A glimmer in his eye.

He swept an arm to Thomas, then curled his fingers to signal him to stand.

The Baronet smiled. He brought the book out from his lap and placed it on the table.

“My good friends, I have been doing a great deal of research for some time. I wish to assure you, that although my skills in a battle are not quite as refined as others, I wish to be useful in other matters.”

Thomas opened the book and turned the yellowed pages as he continued to speak.

“It took hours of sourcing every book in the archives for information on Grendel. His history, especially any possible weaknesses. Most of them needed to be translated from the ancient tongue word by word. But just this morning, I discovered this.”

He pointed at one specific page.

Everyone craned their neck to look. There was ancient Asgardian text in faded black ink, the lines curving and leaning to the left. You noticed small, detailed illustrations around it of a sword, a crown, a ring, and a mask. 

Thomas looked at Jonathan. The Night Manager pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket and handed it to Thomas, who read the translation aloud.

“Lo, to great praise of the gods,

Did Wise Grendel, go forth,

Long days did he spend,

WENT he forth across many,

Until the cauldron was found.

His death he shreds into it,

And forth did it birth its trove four.

The black ring, a bloodied sword,

An unkinged crown, and a mask of death.

For dreaded death did he ween away,

And death shadow dark did he peel off,

Placing them forth and upon,

Like weeds upon a ship,

The troves, which he then scatter.

Woe for the man, 

Who in hell and hatred keeps his soul?

For the trove for that great foe.

THUS was Grendel reared immortal,

Reborn, that is, made freshly new.”

Silence followed. Then Thomas continued.

“In layman’s terms, there are four items called Troves that emerged out of the cauldron when Grendel was granted his immortality from it. A ring, a sword, a mask, and a crown. I confess I had to visit Jotunheim for our Prophet friend again and make him an offering. And it is rather convenient he is fond of a good roast chicken!”

The Prophet- how had it been so long since you had seen him? Since he told you Loki was your True Love? You glanced at your husband and smiled at him and he back. Then you turned to Thomas again.

“He confirmed what I suspected. He said the troves were scattered throughout time and in two countries in Midgard, mostly England. Oddest of all…They are located in our timelines.”

Thomas gestured to himself and then to each variant.

 America in mine, A small village in Jonathans, Eastcheap in Hal’s, and, Robert….well, you can guess where the one in yours had been placed.”

Robert turned pale.

Loki placed an elbow on the table and cocked an eyebrow.

“How incredibly thoughtful of him to make it easy on us! It’s so coincidental, we may as well have our names written in that book!”

Jonathan folded his arms.

“If he had access to a prophet of his own, it could be another trap for us,” he said.

“But what options do we have?” Robert asked.

“If it’s a trap, I’ll take Grendel and slaughter him myself!” Thor boasted, pumping his fist in the air.

“It’s easier said than done,” Frigga advised him, placing a hand on his arm to get him to stop.

“So, we must go to each of these places in those times. We must retrieve and destroy these items. And then, we have a key to defeating Grendel,” you recalled.

Thomas nodded his head.

“Is there a city where the ring was found in? You didn’t list one,” Jonathan asked.

“Oh, forgive me, I’m not familiar with the city the ring is in,” Thomas explained.

“What is its name?” Frigga asked.

“It’s a city called Buffalo in the year of 1901. The Prophet said it could be found among the upper class of the city. So I believe that is where we must go- and we all must behave. We all know royalty is one thing, high society is another.” Thomas advised.

Frigga nodded her head.

“If it is the least familiar, then finding the troves in the others shall be easier. You must go there first. And we must find a way to alert the army should there be trouble,” she advised.

“Why, good fellows, let us use that little bracelet! Should it not work when the army of our King can be brought forth? Especially through the gifts of our gracious queen?” Hal asked.

Frigga smiled.

“Yes, if those watches can send the signal, I can summon a portal for the army to go through. We can’t just send all of them over there. Grendel would get suspicious,” she added.

Stella leaned forward, her needlework placed on her lap. She then spoke for the first time since the meeting began.

“I think I’d like to go,” she replied shyly.

“It could be dangerous,” Sif warned.

“Ah, but American Society is dangerous in itself. And not all of you know how to behave among them. Miss Harris, I agree- you would be a natural among them,” Thomas said.

Stella gave Thomas a small smile. Jonathan turned stiff seeing the exchange, a quiet ferocity in his eyes toward the Baronet.

 “Stella knows her way around people. How to talk to them and befriend them. She couldn’t be impolite if you begged her to be. And Aldwinter loved her for that,” you recalled.

“I could help in some ways. Search for it, talk to others to distract them, have them trust us,” Stella suggested.

All of you looked at each other. Thor was drumming his fingernails on the table.’’

“But if there should be a battle!” the god cried.

“Not all battles are with swords, brother,” Loki replied.

“Of course that would help. Sif can guard her. We could use Stella. Any bit of help we can get.” Robert advised. His hands reached to his shirt pocket for a cigarette and finding none, rested on the table. 

“And…I would like another thing, please…” Stella continued.

The eyes were on her. Your friend then relaxed, though eyes were on her. Her voice was brighter with her growing confidence.

“I….I’m tired of always being taken, being hurt. I don’t want it to happen anymore. Could I…could I learn to fight just a little, please? Just enough to protect myself. I don’t wish for any glory on the battlefield, I don’t want to hurt anyone, I just…I want to feel safe. Please,” she requested.

Loki smiled.

“Well then, you are quite welcome,” Loki began.

Sif turned to her.

“I’ll show you. I know how a woman can fight off a man. You’ll have lessons before you go- where to strike where it hurts. And you better pay attention,” she offered.

“She is worth every sore muscle!” you assured your friend.

Stella’s pink lips curved into a smile.

“Thank you, all of you,” she said.

Odin crossed his arms.

“Well, one sorceress in Asgard and another-” his eye went to you. “Sent off to Midgard. With the Princess’s gifts and your proper training, I have a little hope in me.”

You raised your hand to speak.

“Your highness-AllFather-I, I was tricked into eating Kunniger. The poison drained me of my gifts. I’ll need the tea from the Brunhilde flowers in Jotunheim. And enough to drink for at least two days,” you insisted.

Thor perked up.

“Oh! Brunhilde flowers then? Why, sister, then we must fetch them for you! And you shall be back to your magical glory in no time! Why, I should get them myself!” he replied eagerly, beating his fist on the table. It seemed that the table and everyone jumped in response.

Odin nodded his head.

“Then, it is settled. We will have two days- during which I expect everyone who is able to train vigorously. Then, you set forth in Midgard starting with the kingdom known as Buffalo. You all know what you must do- find the troves. Destroy them. Consider this a command from your king.” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

While unleashing Thor among the upper crust of New York was like unleashing a bull into a china shop, he was useful in other ways.

Thor ran to Jotunheim like a dog released in a field. He grabbed as many Brunhilde flowers as he could and ran back, the tiny purple blooms bunched in his large fist. He brought you forth his prize at your feet. 

For two days, you drank the tea as you watched Sif train Stella. And how odd that this time you were the one watching and Stella was the one training! And Stella in a light brown exercise dress of your time.Different than her typical blue.  dodging Sif’s punches was a sight to see.

Sif led Stella to one dummy and handed her a dagger. She pointed at its neck.

“Strike there and he’ll be weakened.”

She moved her finger to the heart.

“Strike there and he’ll be dead.”

Stella gripped the handle of the dagger with both hands.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” she responded.

“Lady Harris, there are men worth killing. Men who will kill you first. Men who’ll do worse if alive- stab it!” she ordered.

Stella hurried forth and shakily plunged the dagger through the neck. Like pricking a needle into a sewing cushion.

“No! With force, girl!” Sif barked.

On the second afternoon, you could summon bits of flame. By that evening, you could hear the gossip of the kitchen maids (which Loki adored hearing you recount for entertainment). On the third day, you could move the items on your vanity around easily. You went to the training grounds and fetched a sword a mile away without moving a muscle. Targets of your own were set aflame easily.

Now it was time, and you could no longer delay. One minute wasted was one more advance Grendel would make behind your backs.

Everyone gathered in the meeting hall. Loki conjured clothes for everyone, for the ring was in Buffalo in the year 1901. The men had their waistcoats and cravats.  Loki in his typical look. A black waistcoat with a green tie, with a black overcoat, a golden watch with its chain around his stomach, and a bowler hat. Thomas donned himself in black. He brought his top hat and placed it on his head. The men all had waistcoats in colors they favored. grey for Robert, a dark blue for Jonathan, and red for Hal. 

The ladies had to have small gloves and dresses as well. Stella’s was sky blue and Sif was in black (though she complained the skirts were tight beneath her breath). Your dress was deep green along with your husband’s waistcoat. 

But what amazed you were the puffed sleeves on the dresses. So within two decades, every lady would have them?! How astounding! You kept eyeing them on your shoulders with curiosity- you may as well attach hydrangea bushes to your person!

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, are we all ready? Not quaking in our little boots?” Loki asked.

There was no time to reply. Not that there was time for hesitation.

 Loki conjured a golden portal and everyone stepped through. Bright colors swirled around you, hurting your eyes so much you had to close them.

Then, as you opened, you saw you were in Buffalo. 

You were amidst the markets of the area, as carts moved about. You craned your neck to see tall white buildings. But the day was sunny with the crisp coolness of morning in the air. You could hear a distant train whistle and the chatter of people, happy for a new day and a fresh start. The city was twenty times larger than your village. The crowds were so thick, that you reached for your husband’s hand to not get lost. He held your own back. And indeed, everyone was dressed similarly to your group, right down to women with puffy sleeves.

All of you walked forward. Sticking close together as people hurried about. You stopped around one building, your feet staying on dry dirt roads far from any possible mud. 

“Well, now, I have one little question. The one plaguing all of our minds right now. I may as well be the one to say it-  how are we going to find one measly little ring in all of this?” asked Loki, gesturing his arms out to the city.

Jonathan put a hand out to him.

“Be patient,” he assured. “We’ll find a way.”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.

“Are all of you forgetting that I can sense things?” you replied. “Let me do a quick scan,” you offered.

The group held their breath. You closed your eyes and had your gifts reach out.

At first, it was overwhelming. Every smell, sound, and sight attacked you at once. Your shoulders tensed and you winced, but you had that word in your head like a mantra.

“Ring, ring- the cauldron’s ring…where is the cauldron’s ring?”

Taking a deep breath, you let each sensation pass you by. You let the words be your anchor.

Something nudged at you. As soft as a child asking for a glass of water at night.

The ring…there was someone…someone connected to the ring…it was…was…in a building, a few blocks away. 

You opened your eyes, a smile growing on your face.

“Someone has it. They’re in an office building a few streets down,” you reported.

Loki took your hand, leaning to you with a look of triumph.

“My wife, a sorceress and ingenious,” he praised.

All of you hurried forth. You held your skirts over possible mud puddles, glad they’d cover your shoes. Your senses still out like a compass. Finally, a tall, bland-looking building loomed over your party and your senses quivered intensely within you. 

“There! It’s there!” you confirmed with a point of your gloved hand. 

Hurrying Inside, all of you paused. There were numerous rooms and a grand, wooden staircase. People walked to and fro in and out of doors. Ladies adjusted their hats in mirrors and you could smell cigar smoke.

“I can tell there is a hint here. There’s someone… but it’s…it’s hard to say….” you recalled. You were fresh from the poison, and maybe your senses were slightly dulled. You tried to reach out and could sense a presence, but you couldn’t tell what.

“Then rest your gifts, my dear,” Loki advised.

With a deep exhale, you released it, coming back to your neutral self.

“It will do. We have to start somewhere- we can search the building. Ask people, if desperate. Check for a ring.” Jonathan agreed.

Everyone had a scrap of paper in their pockets. An Asgardian artists made sketches from the illustration of this ring. A silver band with a black jewel in the center. You noticed Robert get it out to see it one more time before folding it back in.

“May as well start somewhere, sally forth, my friends,” Hal began, nodding his head.

“I’ll be back to you in an hour,” Loki said. He took your hand and kissed it as a promise. 

The men began to scatter like children playing hide and seek. You saw Robert crudely looking at everyone’s hands and comparing the paper. They went across and vanished into doors all over the ground floor of the building.

You, Stella, and Sif looked at each other.

“Well, there they go,” Sif quipped.

“But who are we to sit about as they do the work? We can check the next floor up,” you asked.

The three of you lifted your skirts and walked upstairs. 

As you climbed the steps, voices were chatting on the second floor. Emerging onto it, you all saw the source right in your path.

There was a small group of women with high chins and flowers in their hats. Society ladies. Their smiles were small and their eyes cold as they looked at one woman standing in front of them. As if not included. Not enough. Not one enough.  

Their victim in question had blonde hair and a little tan coat and dress and hat. You noticed she had a manuscript in her hand that she hugged with both arms close to her chest like a shield. 

One woman in front, who appeared to be the oldest among them, tilted her head and spoke with syrupy venom.

“Oh, we’re having a ball soon, by the way. Not that it should concern you, Edith. With those ink-stained hands, I doubt any gentleman would wish to dance with you. But isn’t that what you wanted, our own Jane Austen?” she said with a smile.

The ladies next to her snickered among themselves.

The young woman- Edith- turned pale and you found her posture tight.

Perhaps it was your unbridled emotions. Perhaps it was the confidence you gained from being turned from lady to warrior and princess and surviving Grendel. Perhaps it was the rage leftover from that marshy town where you made fire burst.

But you could not let them torment this lady- who seemed so small, so timid, so alone.

She wouldn’t be alone now.

Your feet approached them, crashing into their circle.

“And what makes you think you have the right to speak to her like that?” you asked.

Stella hurried forth and went to Edith.

“Why, is it true? Are you a writer?” she asked.

Edith blinked in surprise. 

“Why, uh, yes, I am,” she replied meekly.

Stella made sure she was close. Diverting her attention, not causing any harm. The defense to your offense.

“Oh, how exciting! I must wonder at that- how hard you must work for your craft! How fascinating! I am Miss Stella Harris-forgive the intrusion- and you are-”

“Edith Cushing,” she confirmed.

You took a step closer to them.

“What are their names?” you asked Edith.

“Mrs. McMichael, her daughter Eunice, and their friends,” Edith introduced.

You looked down into the oldest woman’s eyes and she rose to yours without a hint of fear.

“Mrs. McMichael, I do not know what Miss Cushing has done to you- to any of you to deserve this. She is harming no one. She has an ambition and is set forth on it- that is a noble thing. And it is none of your business if she becomes a spinster! Haven’t you considered how hurt she must be when you say things to her?” you spat back.

Mrs. McMichael cocked her eyebrow.

“I must be blunt. Edith is unnatural, as one might say. She must know her place. She always has been. With a mind like hers, of course, no one will want her. We knew it from the beginning. We are simply educating her. She must know her place- how else can a pig know she is a pig?”

You had had enough.

“And going about bullying other people to make your own miserable life feel any better is a place you’re satisfied to be in?” you asked.

You got close, holding yourself restrained. Your hands itching to slap her, which you kept folded. But you looked directly into her eyes and spoke before you could be interrupted.

“Then I must be blunt, too- You wish to find a pig, Mrs. McMichael? Look in the mirror,” you replied.

There were gasps among the ladies. Even a “mother!” whispered from Eunice.

Before any of them could interject, you turned to join Stella and Edith and began to walk away. Sif only took a step closer. 

“Don’t push it. And stay away from the girl- and us,” She warned gravely.

There were gasps. You turned around, hurrying your steps. Your momentum of triumph and anger pushing your little party of four forward. Edith only looked around with as much astonishment as the abandoned snobs. Three new faces looking at her. A lightness on her features for her surprise defense.

“Where are you going?” Sif asked.

“I am headed to the library- it’s up here. I’m meeting Mr. Ogilvie in an hour,” she pointed.

“Let us escort you,” you offered.

Edith grinned and you noticed how warm it was, how beautiful. With her blonde hair and sweet features, she was a pretty lady. Her shoulders dipped and her eyes glanced down at the manuscript in her hands as if it was her infant. She looked back up, beaming.

“I cannot thank all of you enough! Please- what is your name?” 

Matching her grin, you reached out a hand in an introduction. 

“I am Mrs. Laufeyson,” you introduced. It was the last name you and Loki agreed to have when traveling in Midgard.

“Miss Edith Cushing, and?” she turned to look at the dark-haired woman in dark clothes.

“Lady Sif-”

“Er, Miss Sif,” you corrected.

“What brings you here?” Edith asked.

“Buisness with my husband. Miss Harris and Miss Sif are my companions.  Why do you need to meet this gentleman in the library?” you asked.

As you walked closer, you passed a window where sunlight draped down. Warming all of you for a brief minute. Glancing back, you saw the clique of society ladies titled their heads to watch and then went down the stairs with a huff.

‘He’s going to look at my manuscript and consider publishing it!” Edith boasted.

“Oh, how exciting!” Stella replied. 

“! You must have us read it too!” you agreed. Even Sif raised an eyebrow.

Edith guided you all to the door with the library.

“Oh- after the meeting, we’ll enjoy some coffee- my treat! Really! It’s the least I can do- and there’s a cafe next door!” she offered.

Coffee, not tea. Now you knew you truly were in America. 

“Splendid- we will wait outside right for you,” Stella promised.

“My husband wishes to meet me in an hour. Do you not mind him?”

“Oh, not at all. I’d like to get in early- there are a few revisions I need to make before he reads it,” Edith said, looking down at the manuscript again.

“There’s no need for shame. Do whatever you need to do!” Stella replied with a smile. 

Sif did not smile. Though she was quiet, observant of everything gonig on, but her eyes were soft.

“We’ll wait right here!” you assured. 

Edith gave you another smile.

Something in the back of your mind was itching. A bell was ringing loud. You had rested your senses but here they suddenly grabbed you by full force. You stood still, your heart picking up against your ribs as you felt them overwhelm you.

But they didn’t go to the chatter or footsteps or the sunlight shining through.

You felt Edith….her hair feeling pinned to her face, her sweat of excitement beneath her nice dress, her determination to not appear like a frump yet also present of an intellect worthy of respect, equal to a man even…

She didn’t wear gloves. Her fingers were bare, but there was the mark of a tight ring she wore yesterday around her second finger on her right.

She was trying on jewelry that morning. And considered one ring she had. She had put it on. Then decided against it and discarded it away.

A silver ring. A silver ring with a black jewel.

Before you said a word, she slipped through the door and closed it shut. All of you sat on some chairs outside the hall. Your stomach had dropped and you were shaking.

Sif crossed her arms in a huff.

“I don’t see how any of this will get us any closer to the trove!” she complained.

You turned to her, feeling your blood turn cold.

“No, Sif…” you began.

“Why, YN! What’s the matter? There’s a look on your face- something is troubling you, what is it?” Stella asked. 

You gestured for them to lean closer, your voice soft.

‘We haven’t actually dallied…we might as well have found the ring…” you replied.

“What do you mean?” asked Sif.

“Edith has it.”

[dragonfly0808]

Sky: The Thesis

This has been the most difficult thesis for me to write, I just don’t always know how to explain just what I wanted to do with Sky and I really hope I did manage to properly convey this here

So, here goes nothing, also, MAYOR SPOILERS FOR A WHOLE LOT OF PLOT POINTS, DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN’T READ AT UP TILL S4 CH 22 IF YOU DON’T WANT SPOILERS FOR SKY’S CHARACTER

First Things First

From the very start I knew I wanted Sky to suffer. Just joking (kinda).

 I know that in the OG he could ocasionaly come across as insufferable and I really did not want that.

I chose to give Sky somewhat of a ‘sins of the father’ kinda narration. Sky bears the burden of his father’s crime. His main objective in life is to fix what his dad broke.

From a young age Sky realized that it would be up to him to save Eraklyon from his family line, a duty that he takes very seriously.

Sky has an absent mother and a father that never truly saw him, he saw the way his dad’s betrayl destroyed him and he is determined to never suffer the same fate.

Sky blames himself for pretty much everything in existence, a situation that is not helped either by the duty of acting as King since 15 and actually becoming King at 18 + all the stuff that has happened in the rewrite.

Sky’s main trait and his main objective revolve around redemption, at first, the redemption of his bloodline and of Eraklyon and, later on, his own redemption.

Tried to Bargain with the Stars for More Than Half Your Heart

Sky is stuck from a very young age in this in between place of being the son of destruction and the hope for redemption.

He is partially desperate to be seen as something more, as who he could have been if he’d been the son of anyone else, which is why, when he makes his first true friend (or more accurately his first friend with no royal ties), Brandon, he finds some solace

This is also part of the reason why the switcharoo happens. Yes, it happens mostly for safety reasons, but Sky does take the opportunity to know what it is like to be treated like anyone else

In S1 we see him with a lot of built up frustration over not being able to help his planet and being dismissed by his father, which eventually results in his falling out with Riven

Sky’s frustration is born from a helplessness, he’s not allowed to do anything for his planet nor for himself. The only way he’s told he can help his planet early on in the rewrite is by marrying Diaspro and giving up the chance to marry for love, which obviously causes a bit on anger and resentment which can explain (but not fully justify) some of his attitude in season 1

Sky wishes to be seen and loved for who he is and not ‘in spite’ of his family’s past crimes.

I Can Run But I Can’t Hide From my Family Line

Sky’s greatest fear is turning out like his father, being unable to escape the generational curse of cowardice and betrayl.

We see him at his lowest when Valtor curses him, causing him to undergo his greatest fear, being like his father.

Right before the curse, we see him prioritize Eraklyon and his friends, asking Diaspro to kill both him and his father to prevent any harm from being done if they are cursed, which Diaspro can’t go through with it

Sky has a love/hate relationship with his father, between everything that he did that Sky feels responsible for repairing and also the fact that, after betraying Domino, Erendor was never the same and simply not that great a father to Sky, he tried, but never enough

Sky desperately wants to see the man his father was before, the man who seemed so happy next to Orion and Radius in portraits and pictures, the man his generals have told stories about. But he never gets even a glimpse of who his dad was before, which just causes a bigger rift between the two

Erendor thinks there is nothing left for him, no redemption and no real hope for the future, he gives up, this in part, impacts Sky in the sense that, he is someone who will always cling on to the hope of redemption and who will never back down nor give up

Sky is absolutely determined to keep going, he’s not always sure how he’ll do it, but he knows what giving up does to a person and he doesn’t want that for himself.

Castles Crumbling (You Don’t Wanna Know me Now)

Season 4 Sky is in shambles but he will not let anyone see it.

As I’ve said before, Sky carries the weight of both things that he was responsible for and things that weren’t his fault with equal guilt

In S4, Sky struggles with the sense that he doesn’t deserve forgivness nor does he deserve help in his struggles or pain, his thought is ‘I caused them enough pain and troubles, I shouldn’t burden them with my pain’

Sky is low-key having a months long breakdown, no longer sure of who he is or who he will become, feeling partially isolated in the squad. Valtor took something from him, took his confidence that he would never be like his father, that he would never forget the mistakes of the past

Even if he was cursed and not fully in control, Sky doesn’t see it that way, he still sees everything he did while under the curse as his own failure and as a betrayl to both his friends and to himself since he’d always been adamant about promising himself to never be like his father

Everything that Sky truly has is himself. Eraklyon, the crown, all of that is an inheritance stained by his father’s past. The only thing to truly belong to himself is the determination to right past wrongs, and, by being forced into making choices more aligned with his father than with himself, it truly breaks a part of Sky

We’ll see in his arc in S4 that he is very haunted by the idea of his father and wondering what could have been if Erendor had been just a little bit different

I’m really excited to explore a bit more of his mentality and see how his view of himself slowly changes through the healing of a few of his relationships, specifically with Flora and Bloom

Sky embraces the weight of the crown and is, at his core a very selfless and guilt-ridden person. If he could have it his way, he’d study architecture and lead a quiet life, but he will never try to pursue that life until he feels he has achieved giving Eraklyon peace, and even then he’d probably still feel a sense of responsibility to stay on the throne to ensure peace remains

Thoughts Behind His Main Relationships

Brandon

Brandon is Sky’s very first non-royal friend, they meet at 13 and Sky feels like he can just breath around him, Brandon was the first person from Eraklyon Sky felt safe enough to let his guard down around and he really helped him in becoming a socially functioning person since up until then he really only knew how to interact at balls and formal events or with Stella

But Brandon doesn’t just give Sky a friend, but a whole family. Brandon has a huge heart and a big family, the second he realized that Sky’s family was not like his own, he made sure to integrate Sky into his family.

They see each other as siblings, Sky absolutely sees Brandon’s sisters as his own (especially Alexa) and Brandon’s parents are Sky’s parents. They give him a safe space and the kind of unconditional love Sky had never known

Brandon and Sky are both very dedicated and strong-willed, they push each other to be better and, one of Sky’s favorite things about Brandon is that he doesn’t care about Sky’s royal status, if Sky does something stupid, Brandon will let him know and will tease him

Their friendship is one of absolute trust and brotherhood. They see each other at their lowest and never think for even a second to leave each other

Sky is one of Brandon’s biggest supporter once he’s back in regaining movement in his hand and there is no one else he could even think of to be his right-hand man and be right there with him as he becomes King

And, while Brandon is partially impacted and saddened when he learns of Sky’s choices when cursed, he never doubts that it wasn’t technically Sky truly and knows he will forgive him, because that’s his brother.

They are brothers, they could destroy each other and they’d still love one another, they could end each other, they’d forgive one another. What other word could possibly describe their relationship?

Bloom

They are a friends to lovers situation. From the moment they meet they are quite soft with each other and I think it took them a second to develop a crush but it happened quite organically, nothing dramatic just being like ‘huh, everytime I see you I like you more and more and I’d like to get to know you even better’.

However, after Darkar and Valtor, their relationship is at a standstill. They both have too much on their minds and find themselves tortured by their own thoughts and weights far too heavy for their ages resting on their shoulders

I feel like Sky and Bloom’s relationship is a tragedy, but like, a tragedy because of the narration ya know? Like there are these two kids who for all intents and purposes would’ve known each other their whole lives if Domino hadn’t fallen. Who care about each other so much and just want to be there for each other but have also hurt each other (for Sky, it’s his bloodline that hurt Bloom, for Bloom, it’s the very loyalty that Sky loves that winds up hurting him when Bloom choses a side).

Their tragedy is one of; I love you so much but the universe keeps fucking us over and revealing things that make me wonder if we truly can love each other and be together without another wave of hurt falling upon us.

Their tragedy in s4 converts into one of; I love you but I don’t know if there is room in my mind for that love anymore. I love you but I’m not sure if I even know you anymore. I’ll always love you but I don’t know what to do with that love anymore.

Can two people grow apart and them grow closer once more? Can you forgive that it wasn’t you I hurt? Can you forgive the side I chose wasn’t yours? Can we be friends again? Can we try? Would you like to try?

Their love of each other is pure, it’s just a question of whether or not it can survive all the bullshit the universe keeps throwing at them.

Stella

Sky and Stella have known each other since birth. They’ve been best friends since they were less than two years old and have always had each other’s back.

One of the major changes I made to season 1 was having Stella know about the switcharoo between Sky and Brandon, mostly because, since she’s known Sky her whole life, they couldn’t really keep it a secret from her.

This formed a dynamic for the trio and made them the closest subunit in season 1 since they’ve known each other the longest.

Stella and Sky are two kids who bonded as kids but continued to deepen their bond as they both realized the weight on their shoulders due to being the future rulers of their respective planets.

These two are definetely siblings. They both had somewhat strict mothers so when together, they love to get to just be goofy teenagers. Their friendship is one of ‘We both have so much to do and a lot of weight on our shoulders but when we’re together we can let go and try to trip each other into a fountain for the fun of it and stick out our tongues just because we can and I know you’d never get mad at me over something like that. But you know that if you even need anything I will be right here and nothing will stop me from helping you.’

Stella utterly and fully believes in Sky, she sees right through him and is perhaps the only one who truly knows just how deeply Sky’s eternal guilt runs

Sky can see through Stella just the same, and for a long time, was the only one that was even aware of just how insecure Stella once was deep down

Who is Sky in this Rewrite?

Sky is a good man but a bad son.

Sky is a boy king bearing the weight of past crimes and sins and of his home planet on his shoulders.

He is a boy whose greatest fears came true and he cannot forgive himself for not being strong enough to prevent that from happening. To keep from betraying himself and everything he stands for.

Sky is someone who is ultimately selfless and with a well of guilt deep in his gut that sometimes won’t allow him to breath

Sky is someone who, in a short 3 years has kind of lost himself. He knows what he wishes his life were, he knows what his life must be, but he no longer knows quite who he is, if perhaps he was partially playing a role in fear of what would collapse if he were to stop

Sky is someone who is trying to not only be forgiven but also to forgive himself

Sky is someone determined to not repeat the mistakes of the past and someone determined to redeem his planet and himself

Sky is someone terrified of himself. Of who he could become if he were unable to run from his bloodline, if he is unable to keep himself from turning into his father

He is someone who feels like an outsider and an imposter within his own friend group. He was made into an outsider by circumstances out of his control but somehow, he is the one who keeps himself at the border, even when everyone else has begun to move on and forgive him

—————————

Masterlist

Sky Moodboard

Sky’s Instagram

Sky and Brandon Moodboard

Sky and Bloom Moodboard

Sky and Stella Moodboard

[yiling-laozu-is-loml]

Alright, another idea for you! For the danmei club prompt ask thing:

NingXian, Burial Mounds settlement days, Wen Ning lovingly bullying WWX to take care of himself. Sad eyes/ puppy eyes are fair use, regardless of what wwx says.

Gimme bittersweet. Maybe alpha!Ning? Do sentient corpses still have scents?

Yes they do, cuz I say so. But I am limiting Wen Ning's alpha-ness to just scents, being able to mate/bond and using the bond to feel what his mate feels. No sex for poor dead guy oop. Zilia, this isnt just for Jaq, this is for you too because you're the first person in my orbit who started chanting "NingXian. NingXian. NingXian".

Instead of 500 words, have 4.1k (what a horrible number) words instead!

“Are you alright?” He couldn’t hide the concern in his tone. Wei Wuxian had just come out after his self-imposed heat confinement and he looked terrible. He was gorgeous as always of course, but the Burial Mounds were hard on the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation too. Although the way he looked now was way worse than he usually did which seemed impossible yet here they were.

“I am fine, all good, see?” He assured or tried to. The hoarseness of his voice gave away how long he had been screaming for an alpha who would never come. Wen Ning was seeing alright.

“Sit here, I’ll bring some broth. Heats are already hard on omegas and they get worse if you intentionally starve yourself.” He pushed him to sit on a fallen log and Wei Wuxian startled, a guilty expression contorting his face. Wen Ning had a good idea of the self-sacrificial bullshit going on in the omega’s head that made him so reckless with himself.

When he handed the bowl to him, Wei Wuxian immediately began employing his puppy eyes. Now, Wen Ning wasn’t a strong man, wasn’t one even in life and as an alpha, he really couldn’t remain unaffected by an omega he cared for but this was ridiculous. “Eat,” he said and the omega pouted harder.

“This is too much A-Ning! We could give half of it to A-Yuan, or Popo or-“

“Eat,” he simply said but then decided he much rather keep vigil unless Wei Wuxian tried sneaking away to give his food over. “Want me to feed you?” He asked and Wei Wuxian grinned and nodded.

The smile left his face when Wen Ning took the bowl from him and his cheeks darkened to a rare rosy hue that would have Wen Ning swooning if he wasn’t busy trying to coddle him. He’ll revisit that sight and fixate on it later. Right now, he was going to enjoy Wei Wuxian sputtering about not being an invalid. The omega wasn’t the only one who could turn the tables and fluster others. 

“This is ridiculous, I could’ve shared this much food with someone. It's being wasted on-”

“Xian-ge!” He turned and widened his eyes, pouting slightly and Wei Wuxian gulped and clamped his mouth shut. Wen Ning wasn’t above playing dirty and he knew exactly how susceptible Wei Wuxian was to his own puppy eyes. Hell even Jiejie wasn’t above falling for them so who was Wei Wuxian in the grand scheme of disguised manipulation?

“You don’t fight fair,” he whined and focused his attention back on the bowl, as if glaring would make it vanish into thin air A beat of silence passed as Wei Wuxian scowled and then downed the entire bowl in one go, sputtering about radishes and the lack of spice.

There's more ofc, but please go read it on AO3 :D

Please give a round of applause and listen to the song that inspired the vibes and how I went about this fic! aka REFRAIN by Miyano Mamoru!

[mxstellatayte]

hiiii ! could you write a part 2 for the charles and the vibe fic?

YIPPEE!!

i was gonna write it anyways but now i have an excuse to do it!

warnings: this is pure filth, threesome (mmf,) p in v sex, unprotected sex (DONT DO THAT,) mirror sex, carlos is an ass guy, charles is a boobs guy tho, kinda exhibitionism?, creampie, sex under the influence kinda?, it's all consensual though!

all you wanted to do was tease charles. all you wanted to do was see how much you could tempt his resolve before it would crumble. you had no idea it would result in getting eaten out in the bathroom and then promptly realizing that carlos had heard the whole thing and had covered for you and charles.

in exchange, carlos wanted to make even on a bet that he and charles had made at the start of the 2023 season.

monaco. february 10th, 2023.

"what do you think the odds are that one of us wins a race this year?"

charles looked up from the chessboard, his eyebrows furrowing. "what do you mean?"

"i was looking at the red bull and mclaren numbers and our car splits them. we have a fighting chance this year, so do you think one of us will get a win this year?" charles moves a rook, taking one of carlos' pawns.

"it depends. if my entire radio just sounds like 'we are checking, we are checking' and i have to make my own strategy and tyre calls, maybe. if xavi learns basic engineering and communicative skills or gets replaced altogether, i'd say yeah, there's a chance."

"you wanna bet?"

"what are we betting?"

carlos hesitates, then looks up when he hears the door opening. something clatters in the closet before you can be heard cursing quietly, then rearranging the fallen shoes onto the rack. eventually, you come through the doorway to the living room, and, when you see carlos, your face lights up.

"carlos! cómo estás?" (how are you?) you walk over and lean down, kissing his cheek in greeting.

"bien. un poco nervioso para bahrain, pero el carro maneja fantástico este año. y vos?" (good. a bit nervous for bahrain, but the car drives amazing this year. what about you?) you walk over to the kitchen while he's talking and pull out ingredients to make yourself a bowl of yogurt and berries- your favorite snack to have after work before you take your pit bull out for a walk.

"i'm alright. the marketing team made a stupid mistake so i had to do some damage control that took way longer than it should have, but i know martin is going to give them absolute hell tomorrow for it, so at least it doesn't reflect badly on me." your bowl clinks on the countertop as you sit down at the island and take out your computer, your headphones that were previously resting around your neck being slipped over your ears. "i've got some emails to write for an upcoming content creator collab we're doing, so i'll be in my zone. you guys know the drill?"

charles nods. "hermit mode?"

you smile, slipping the second speaker over your ear. "hermit mode."

a few moments pass before carlos speaks again. "are you okay with betting her?"

charles' eyebrows raise. "what do you mean?"

carlos makes his move on the chessboard. "if i win more races than you this year, i get her for a night. if you win more races than me, you can use me for a night. however you want."

the thought of his teammate and closest friend getting to fuck you lights a fire inside of charles, and while he wants nothing more than to agree to the bet purely for the stakes of it, he needs to check in with you first. "can i run it by her and get back to you on that?"

carlos nods. "just get me an answer by bahrain so we can figure something else out if she doesn't want to do that."

italy. february 3rd, 2024.

you had forgotten about the bet. charles and carlos had not.

now, just minutes later, you find yourself with your back once again against the wall, but this time you're staring into carlos' eyes while he fingers you gently, your legs wrapped around his waist and charles leaning against the vanity facing both of you. your eyes unintentionally flick over carlos' shoulder to your boyfriend who is an absolute mess. he's palming himself over his slacks, and you can tell just from the flush in his face that creeps down to his neck and the way his eyebrows are pinched together that he likes what he sees. before you can eye-fuck him the way you know he likes, carlos pulls his fingers out of you and you whine, but he carries you over to the vanity and taps your ass to get you to let go. "spin around, amor. let me see that beautiful ass of yours."

this is a side of carlos that you've never seen before, and it would be a lie to say that it's not hot. without a second thought, you spin yourself around so that your back is resting against his chest and your ass rests against his crotch. "come on, hermosa. bend over." as slowly as you can, you lean forward, resting your hands on the vanity and grinding yourself against him and you swear you can feel his dick twitch inside of his own black slacks. as soon as your forearms are fully resting on the granite vanity, carlos runs his hands down your back and to the front of your legs where he pulls the scarlet fabric of your dress to gather on your left side, the slit opening so that your entire ass is exposed. "no panties?" oh. you forgot about that.

"i kept them for good measure," charles says, pulling them out of his pocket. "you want 'em? you might have to shut her up. she never stops moaning."

"i know. i heard everything. you two are lucky i was the one outside and not anyone else. now," carlos says, taking your panties from your boyfriend and shoving them in his pocket, "do you feel like returning the favor?"

the whiskey you'd downed earlier is taking its effect, and you can't help but bite your lip and nod. normally, you wouldn't be nearly as confident as you are now with someone other than your boyfriend having you in the position you're in right now, but you trust carlos and frankly, you're too turned on to care. charles is in the same room and you're both comfortable enough in your relationship that it's okay. "yes, carlos. i'll return the favor. whatever you want." as you're talking, you can hear carlos unbuckle his belt and unzip his slacks, and when there's finally one layer of fabric between the two of you, carlos reaches into his jacket packet and pulls out a condom. before he opens it, though, you pipe up, your voice embarrassingly breathy and high. "i'm clean and on the pill. don't waste it if getting me pregnant is your only concern."

"are you sure?" carlos says, glancing over at charles. your boyfriend only responds with a shrug and points his thumb at you.

"whatever she says. you're the one fucking her."

carlos doesn't waste a second setting the condom on the vanity, pulling his slacks and underwear down his thighs just enough so that it's comfortable, and pushing into you. you have to bite your lip and cover your own mouth to prevent yourself from moaning too loudly, the stretch from carlos being so different to the one you're accustomed to with charles.

when you look up, carlos' head is thrown back and his hands grip your hips so tight his knuckles are white. it might be the hottest sight you've ever seen. "carlos." your voice is whiny, and you're shocked you can even get his name out.

"hm?"

"fuck me, please."

"are you sure?" his voice lilts in the way you're used to hearing, but this time, there's something slightly different about it. maybe it's the fact that he's currently buried inside of you, his hips flush with your own, or maybe it's the fact that every time you move your head to look up at him, your cunt squeezes around him so perfectly he fears he might cum within three thrusts, but either way, you feel so, so perfect.

"positive. now please. fuck. me." slowly, carlos pulls his hips back before pushing into you, slowly increasing his pace until every time his body meets your ass, you're shoved forward slightly on the counter and your breasts bounce forward, almost falling out of the low neckline of your dress.

"mierda, amor, tienes un coño hecho para mi," (shit, love, you have a cunt made for me,) carlos groans out, pulling your arms back and holding them with one hand while the other goes to hold you up by your neck. the restriction to your windpipe makes your head spin and the new angle has carlos' entire cock running against your g-spot with every thrust. you're able to wiggle your hands free, your left hand reaching back to tug at carlos' hair and your right goes down to rub circles around your clit, making you tighten around carlos' dick, and the combination of the pain from his hair being pulled and your cunt spasming around him makes him tip over the edge.

the feeling of carlos filling you up in turn sends you into your own orgasm, and as you cum, you look to your left, where charles jerks himself off watching you. when you make eye contact with him, though, it's the last straw and he spills into his hand with a quiet groan and his head thrown back.

the three of you catch your breaths and carlos pulls out of you gently, then shoves his cum back inside of you. the forgotten egg vibrator in charles' coat pocket is reinserted into your cunt and you whine at the overstimulation, slightly anxious that charles might tease you again, but he whispers a quiet promise in your ear that you've been good tonight, he won't turn it on anymore.

eventually, carlos slips out of the bathroom and you follow shortly after, walking back down the large hallway to return to the event. later that night, after speeches have been made, hollow promises have been spoken, and many, many bottles of expensive champagne have been toasted with, you make your way back outside, your arm linked with charles' as he calls his car to be pulled with the valet service. carlos walks up and stands next to the two of you, his car already on its way up, and turns to you.

"i'd say the bet is settled, no?"

there you have it folks :D

[aloysiavirgata]

Think maybe Mulder knew Stella from his time in England? 👀

“Hello, Mulder,” she says, in her silk and sandpaper voice. “Fancy meeting you here.”

As though he hasn’t met her here before, as though his subconscious hadn’t sent him this way for her Hitchcock hair and her Hepburn timbre. He hasn’t worn the Stonehenge Rocks hat, thank goodness.

“How long has it been?” he asks, over Phoebe and Diana and Scully - Scully, like a bruise whose tenderness he keeps testing with a finger. He knows, nearly to the month, how long it’s been.

But he asks.

“Back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day,” Stella murmurs. She sips at the rock glass with her mouth like a damask rose. Blouse the color of old blood.

“‘Til he came to the place where the wild things are,” Mulder finishes, dreamy and wistful for the past and the future.

Stella makes a liquid sound. “You look good, Fox. Phoebe still misses you. Phoebe will always miss you.”

“I’m sure her aim’s getting better,” Mulder says.

Stella laughs into the sweet blackberry dark, the fiery gold of her drink. “I heard about your partner,” she says. “She desperately in love with you yet, Fox? Phoebe said she was quite devoted already a few years back, but you know how Phoebe is. A bit histrionic.”

He coughs a little. “We parted badly last time, Phoebe and I.”

“I heard,” Stella says. “Even I know better than to fuck victims, for heaven’s sake.”

She raises her brows for punctuation. Her eyes cooler than Scully’s, more calculating, however big and blue.

Mulder shakes his head. Good old Stella. He knows perfectly well she’d never get away with being so outspoken if she didn’t look like she does. The fact that Stella is perfectly aware of this pleases him. He knows his own Halo Effect as well, has exploited it shamelessly. Stella, like him, is a survivor.

“I’ve missed you too.” She winks for the fun of it. Mulder wonders how many poor bastards are desperately in love with Stella. He thinks Phoebe might have been, at a time.

“No you haven’t,” he says warmly. She is playful, but always honest.

“No, I haven’t.” she admits. “But I do now that I remember…aspects of you.” She makes a lazy circle with her tongue against the inside of her sculpted cheek.

Jesus, Stella! He blushes.

“I heard your partner is a doctor though,” Stella muses, swirling her ice. “I suppose she knows all the fun bits.”

“We haven’t…Phoebe doesn’t…” Mulder shakes his head again.

“Oh. Well. You around tonight?” she asks, direct as ever.

He is, he technically is, and he doesn’t have what it takes to say no to Stella or yes to his longing for his partner.

“Stella…” he says, low, hardening, remembering the sinuous machinery of her body, the way she left him both deeply satisfied and profoundly alone.

She gets to her feet, Detective Gibson, nudges his thighs apart with hers.

Mulder puts his hands at her hips, their roundness always surprising in such a small woman. She is pressed between his knees like a plucked flower. He touches her, draws her close. She smells like good breeding and warm silk and forgetting.

“What is it, Stella?” he murmurs. Remembers the constellation of freckles along her sternum, the taut vellum of her belly.

A whiff of her skin when she leans forward, a kiss of her platinum hair on his cheek. She presses her mouth to his, darts her tongue against his lips. Stella, Stella, this is what he needs to avoid the hard choices at home. Stella like an Akhal-Teke, lean and golden and rare. Riding her for miles.

“Go home,” she murmurs, her sweet, peaty breath in his mouth. “You’re absolutely useless, darling.”

He is stung. “Stella, I-“

“Let’s not spoil the memories, hmm?” she says. “Go tell her.”

“I don’t -“

Stella’s immaculate finger at his mouth.

She leaves cash at the bar, saunters out from between his legs without ever looking back.

[hearts4tatemcrae]

picking strawberries

a chris sturniolo fic 

summary : chris surprises y/n by taking her to a strawberry farm

notes : bf!chris x reader, fluff, cuties, super short story

“chris! where are we going!” y/n exclaimed as her boyfriend’s hands covered her vision. chris smiled as he helped her out of the car, guiding her toward the entrance of the strawberry farm.

“just trust me, you’ll love it” he giggled. the boy knew that strawberry’s were her favourite fruit, so when he saw the sign of a new strawberry farm just outside of town, he immediately thought of his girl.

at the moment, chris and y/n were the iconic couple of the internet, nearly everyone loved them.

of course, with chris being a youtuber, their lives were almost completely exposed to the internet. fans would often come up with theories of their relationship, ones of which didn’t involve them.

this is why when the two finally got some alone time together — like in a small strawberry farm not many people knew about — they enjoyed it.

“okayy .. open your eyes!”

y/n’s eyes briefly adjusted to the light before she turned to her boyfriend and hugged him with joy, she practically jumped on him. “chris oh my word i love you, you’re the best ever”

he wrapped his arms around his favourite girl, placing a soft kiss to her neck. “i love you more sweetheart” he whispered into her ear, quickly placing another kiss on her neck before they broke apart.

she shifted her eyes at the field then back at chris. “cmon c, let’s go”

c. chris loved that nickname, sure it was basic, many people used to call him that. but when it came out of y/n’s mouth? he found a whole new perspective on it and he has never let anyone else call him that name since she has.

y/n dragged his hand out to the strawberry fields, grabbing a basket off the pile set next to the gate.

the duo wandered down one of the many aisles, picking any strawberries their hearts desired.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

by now, the strawberry basket had little room left. it was filled with bright colored red strawberries, both chris and y/n couldn’t wait to eat them.

suddenly, chris ran to the near end of the aisle. “y/n! come here!” he yelled back at her. y/n, with the basket of strawberries, ran after him, trying her best not to spill them out.

once she reached him, the girl realised what he was looking at, “no way!” she cheered. chris had found a giant strawberry. “i know right, it’s massive” he said excitedly as he picked it, placing it in the now full basket.

“okay i think we have enough, wanna go home c?”

“yeah let’s go”

╭────── · · ☆ · · ──────╮

this is my first fic sorry if it’s bad, i know it’s super short 😭

-stella 💫💫

╰────── · · ★ · · ──────╯

[deanstead]

she's alright, i guess

Pairing: Stellaride x SeverideDaughter!Reader

Requested: yes, by anon

Summary: Y/N hasn’t been very welcoming towards having Stella in their lives, but when she’s faced with a situation, Stella proves to Y/N that she’s in her corner.

Word Count: 2.2K+

Tags/Warnings: Dad!Kelly, mentions of attempted assault, single parent, victim shaming

A/N: This is a different kind of request/fic from what I've written for OC so far but I was pretty intrigued by it so I decided to give it a go. Not opening requests for daughter fics at the moment still because I’m not sure how this turned out yet so let me know what you guys think!

STELLARIDE MASTERLIST

You looked up from where you’d been playing with the food on your plate, only to catch Stella smile at your father who was sitting next to you.

Resisting the urge to make a face, you turned to look at him. “Can I be excused?”

Kelly gave a small sigh and turned to look at you, looking like he wanted to say something and then deciding against it, merely nodding. “Yeah, go on.”

You gave his girlfriend a last withering look before you took your plate back into the kitchen.

Kelly suppressed an audible sigh before he looked back at Stella. “Sorry.”

Stella smiled and shook her head. “She just needs some time.”

You rolled your eyes and headed back to your room, plopping yourself down on your bed and staring up at your ceiling.

It wasn’t really that you didn’t like Stella. Hell, you’d been okay with her before you found out she was dating your father.

As far as daughters went, you were sure that you were at least three times more protective over your father than your classmates were about their own parents.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you only ever had Kelly growing up. You’d overheard countless discussions about people telling him that it was hard being a single parent especially with his job but whatever anyone said, and however Kelly had felt from the first time he’d found out he’d had a daughter and come to get you, Kelly had stuck it out with you.

Over the years, especially once you were older, you’d seen many girlfriends come and go - some didn’t want commitment, some ran the moment they found out about you, some just… didn’t make it. It didn’t matter that Kelly had seemed fine with everything. You were not, so all that had done was make you even more protective over him.

So when you’d found out about Stella, you’d felt your hackles raise.

Logically, you knew Stella had done nothing to deserve this but your 15 year old brain couldn’t seem to override the emotion with logic.

You lay there for a while more until there was a knock on your door and Kelly poked his head in.

“Hey kiddo. Can we talk?”

You sat up but didn’t give him an answer because you knew very well what he wanted to talk about and you weren’t sure you wanted to hear it.

Kelly came in anyway, pulling out the chair at your desk and sitting across from you.

“Will you give Stella a break?”

You looked up with a look of protest and Kelly held up a hand.

“I know.” Kelly said in a low voice, giving you a small smile to show you he wasn’t mad. “Just lighten up a little and give her a chance. That’s all I’m asking.”

You didn’t say anything but Kelly let out a chuckle as you pursed your lips. “Go easy.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before patting your hair affectionately and leaving the room.

You pulled your jacket tighter around you, glancing behind you.

You hadn’t meant to let it get so late but you’d gotten a little too immersed in your notes and lost track of time. Other than the wind blowing against your back and making you shiver, you hadn’t realized how quiet the road from your friend’s house was.

You kind of regretted not calling Kelly to come and get you, but you also didn’t relish the idea of waiting here so you’d forged on, telling yourself you’d walked this street thousands of times.

But now, you were pretty sure someone was following you, hearing the echoing footsteps behind you.

Damn it.

Your hands that were jammed into your pockets closed around your phone but you were also worried things would escalate so you picked up your pace instead.

You heard the footsteps behind you match the increase in your speed and just as you thought you should break into a run, you were yanked backwards and unable to maintain your balance, you tumbled onto the concrete pavement, feeling the concrete scrape against your skin.

Your head snapped upwards, feeling your heart fall straight into your gut when you looked back into the face of the man that now towered over you.

It was a stranger, not a face you remembered seeing, but his lips ticked upwards in a smile that flipped your stomach over and your gut feeling as well as every nerve in your body was screaming at you to get up and run.

Flight.

You scrambled to your feet, slowly moving backwards as he now stepped towards you. His movements had slowed, like a predator that had just cornered his prey.

He took another step towards you and with well chosen timing, you brought your knee up swiftly, just like how Kelly had taught you.

Winded, the man bent over but not before letting out a growl.

You didn’t stick around long enough to find out what he had to say, your legs already moving before your brain realized you were running.

The wind blowing against you was painful but you didn’t dare stop because you weren’t sure if he was on your heels.

You turned the corner, sparing a glance back and collided straight into someone.

“Sorry.” You panted, glancing up.

“Y/N?” Stella looked surprised to see you before her expression switched to one of concern. “What’s wrong?”

Stella glanced up at the empty street behind you and then looked back at you. “You okay?”

You really didn’t have the energy for anything else. You just really needed an adult. You glanced up at her without talking and Stella reached for your hand.

When you didn’t pull away, Stella squeezed. “Do you want me to take you home?”

You shook your head quickly. “No. Wait. I just… I don’t want Dad to see me like this.”

Stella studied you for just a second more before she nodded. “My apartment’s just around the corner. Why don’t you come and have something at my place and we can talk? If you want to.”

You hesitated for just a second but you were still kind of spooked so you nodded, letting her lead you back down from where she came from, not even realizing your hand was still in hers.

Stella wasn’t exaggerating when she said her apartment was around the corner.

Within five minutes, you were seated on Stella’s couch, a cup of hot tea in your hands while you found yourself telling her what happened.

It was weird - you’d expected Stella to maybe pat your shoulders a little to reassure you that things would be fine before trying to convince you to call Kelly so he could come and get you. She wouldn't be the first girlfriend to hand you back over to your father as soon as she could.

But the emotions on Stella’s face as you told her were new to you - looks of concern, before outrage and then… if you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was upset.

You fell quiet after a while and Stella scooted a little closer to you.

“Alright, Y/N, listen.” Stella said and you looked up at her. “We have to report this.”

You looked back down again, your index fingers twirling together even though you were still holding the mug.

“I’ll come with you.” Stella paused. “If you’ll let me.”

You looked up again and nodded quietly. "You… You’d do that?”

You registered a look of surprise on Stella’s face before she next spoke. “Of course, Y/N.”

“Can we not call my dad yet?”

There was a small silence and you held back a sigh. You knew what would happen if your father found out about this. Other than the fact that you hated making him worry and that you knew things might get blown up out of proportion with practically everyone getting involved, it was kind of awkward talking to him about some stuff.

Stella glanced at you. “How about we take things one step at a time?”

You bit your lip and Stella nodded encouragingly at you. “Let’s go to the district and then when you’re ready, we can call Kelly alright?”

You nodded quietly, taking another sip of tea before Stella smiled. “Ready?”

You got up and Stella grabbed an extra coat off her coat hanger, draping it around your shoulders.

Stella had been told to wait outside while you gave your statement to the uniformed police officer sitting across from you but you were regretting this with each question the officer asked you.

“What were you doing out so late?”

“Is this what you normally wear to school?

You were done with the insinuations in his voice and tone. You were 15, not an idiot. You knew exactly where this was going and you’d been around your father’s friends long enough to pick some stuff up.

You stood all of a sudden, the nails digging into your palms in an effort not to let the angry tears out. “I’m not answering any more questions.”

“What do you…”

You didn’t let him finish his sentence, opening the door and stalking out.

As promised, Stella was right outside, glancing up as you walked out, reading the expression on your face instantly.

“You okay?”

You pulled Stella’s jacket tighter around yourself. “I just want to go home.”

Stella frowned, glancing up at the officer that was now outside the room as well. “You still have to answer a few questions. You can’t just…”

You didn’t move and Stella looked back down at you. “Y/N?”

“He hasn’t asked me a single question about what happened.” You said in a low voice, focusing only on Stella now. “No questions about how the man looked, what street this took place on, how he sounded.”

Stella frowned. Those were enough for her to put together a few pieces of the puzzle.

“Those are necessary questions. We need to know if…”

“Kidd. Y/N.”

You glanced up at a familiar face and Stella patted your back. “Told you I got you.” She whispered in a low voice so only you could hear.

Stella nodded with a smile at Hailey.

Telling the officer she’d take over, Hailey led you back into the room and smiled encouragingly at you.

“Stella called me. Will you tell me what happened?”

It was easier than you’d expected to talk to Hailey but even as you told her what happen, you found yourself internally steeling yourself for a lecture of some sort and you suddenly just really wished Kelly was here.

But Hailey offered no lecture or talking-to. Instead, she treated you like an adult, taking down the information you offered, her questions only revolving around important information she obviously needed, before she closed the book.

“Thank you, Y/N. Here.” Hailey handed you a small bottle and a small device. “Pepper spray and a small panic button.”

You looked up a little surprised and Hailey smiled. “If nothing, maybe it’ll help you feel safer.”

You nodded, keeping the things she handed you and Hailey came around and squeezed your shoulder before taking you out of the room again where Stella was waiting.

“Dad must be worried, I…”

Stella shook her head with a smile. “I told him you’re with me so he wouldn’t. I can call him if you’re ready.”

You felt involuntary tears well up in your eyes before you nodded. "Can you? I... I think I really need him."

Kelly was here in record time, running up the steps of the district as if he’d been waiting nearby in the first place but you didn’t care. The rush of relief and safety when you saw him made you wonder why you hadn’t gone to him immediately anyway.

“Y/N!”

You didn’t say anything, merely shooting off your seat to dive into your father’s arms like you were a child once again.

“You okay? Let me see.” Kelly pulled away just a little to look at you but other than remnants of the startled look in your eyes and new tears ready to spill over, you weren’t really hurt.

Kelly gently pulled you back into his arms and exhaled. “Thank god.”

He was never one for long verbal communications of how much he loved you but you didn’t really need him to tell you. This was even more apparent now as you were huddled in your father’s arms in the middle of a police district.

“You must be starving.” Kelly said after a while, looking down at you to wipe a stray tear off your face. “Why don’t we go get something to eat, hmm?”

You gave a small crooked smile and Kelly looked up, meeting Stella’s eyes.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” Kelly said with a small apologetic smile at Stella. “Thank you.”

Stella nodded, but you interrupted them. “You’re not coming to eat with us?”

Kelly raised his eyebrows.

“Thought I’d give you two some private time.” Stella said, although she seemed to be weighing the look in your eyes now.

You shrugged. “You can come eat with us, too.”

Kelly glanced between his girlfriend and daughter. “Did something happen?”

You shrugged, lowering your voice. “She’s alright I guess.”

Kelly chuckled, swinging an arm around your shoulders as he led you out of the district. Stella fell into step on your other side and you smiled up at her. “Thank you.” You whispered, fully aware your father could hear you.

Stella smiled. “Thank you, too.”

Kelly just smiled at both his girls as the three of you walked down the empty streets. Together.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

[rivensdefenseattorney]

Alfea Dormitory

Decided to post the mood boards I made of the girls' rooms way back when. It pretty much hasn't changed at all for me since then.

Bloom's Room

Bloom's room is basically controlled chaos. Even when nothing ever seems to be in place, she still knows exactly where everything is. She's an avid reader, so she basically brought as many books as she could with her, but she's also looking forward to adding to her collection in Magix. She has pictures everywhere that remind her of her family and earth. It helps her deal with the homesickness.

Stella's Room

Stella's room is very, extra. She only expects the best, so every blanket, pillow, mirror, rug, etc. you see is basically worth more than what most people can afford. She prioritizes making her room as comfortable and cute as possible. Bloom is always worried about even touching anything when she sleeps in her room, but Stella always reassures her that she has people who can take care of any messes.

Flora's Room

Flora's room makes you feel like you're in a garden. It's very cozy and relaxing. The most notable thing is the pleasant aroma that naturally fills the air. Flora didn't realize how big her collection has gotten, but she couldn't give away any of her plants. They are all her close confidants.

Musa's Room

Musa's room acts as her sanctuary. She's made it a space where she can come back to relax after a long day. She often spends time writing music in her little mini studio. She in her element the most when she can just tune out the world.

Tecna's Room

Tecna doesn't see the need nor does she like any excess clutter. She enjoys having open free space, so she doesn't need to spend any extra time cleaning than necessary. She's quite proud of the setup she managed to create. It allows her to stream and work on her algorithms as seamlessly as possible.

Aisha's Room

Aisha's heart will always be with the sea, so she's brought a bit of it with her. There's various knickknacks from Andros that can be found scattered around her room. She also set up a wall to place all of her extra workout gear. There's a cleared space that allows her to stretch in the morning.

Bonus

How tidy is everyone? (From Messy to Neat)

Messy

Bloom

Stella

Flora

Aisha

Musa

Tecna

Neat

What type of bird is everyone? (From Night Owl to Early Bird)

Night Owl

Tecna

Musa

Bloom

Flora

Aisha

Stella

Early Bird

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Winx Rewrite Master Post

Alfea Interdimensional College of Fae

Red Fountain Dormitory