#bea writes

At first - she feels awkward when he asks her not to wear a shirt when it's only just them, but feels bad saying no because he paid good money for them. With time she stops caring and parades around the house shirtless, and it becomes their norm.

But then their parents leave for a couple of weeks, and her bras start to mysteriously going missing. And yet - she still goes shirtless out of habit.

He pushes that boundary slowly, he doesn't want to spook her and lose his favourite free porn. He makes a comment here and there, compliments how perky they are, how her girlfriend must be obsessed with them, how hypnotising her puffy nipples look when she's going down the stairs...

She doesn't say anything back, but her rosy cheeks and quickened breath tell him everything.

So he finally tells her what her parading around is doing to him and begs her to just this once let him get off to them with her in the room. She very reluctantly says yes, but only if she won't have to look at it.

Except when he pulls his shorts down and his thick, meaty cock bounces up, she can't look away. He doesn't say anything, he just starts to move his fist up and down, milking drop, after drop of precum. Moaning louder and louder, loosing himself in the view in front of him, painting a degrading picture with his words... A picture that doesn't reach his precious little sister's ears, because she's too focused on his cock, and he just knows... His little sister might claim she's a dyke, but she's also cock obsessed.

She doesn't say anything when he pulls her closer, when he spreads her legs and pushes her panties to the side, when he slaps his dick on her clit a few times...

Only when he's balls deep in her leaking goldstar cunt - she starts to hear his obscene words, but now it's too late. She knows she lost...

A glimpse into how reader spends their classtime t̶o̶r̶t̶u̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ teasing Percy Weasley.

A/N: shoutout the people still reading for Percy! first original fic post so it's short and sweet, happy reading :p

tags: fluff, secret crush, boredom antics

wc: 502

crossposted on AO3

dividers by @strangergraphics

As Professor Binns droned on, you couldn't remember feeling more alert. Though most of the school considered History of Magic to be a Ministry-sanctioned snoozefest, it fascinated you. A goblin rebellion? Sure, why not! Magical catastrophe? Sign me up! Perhaps if the witches and wizards in your class had to sit through a muggle-styled lesson, they'd feel a lot more appreciative for two-hours on the giant uprisings.

Some quietly, others snoring, the entire class slept. The entire class except for two: you and the prefect of your year, Percy Weasley. He sat upright as if called to attention. His body still, except for his quill which was frantically scratching at his parchment. You were rows above him but you couldn't help but crane your neck to look at his notes. Contrary to your classmate, you preferred to sit in rapt attention, quill idle on your desk.

Though the stories were fascinating, they weren't your favorite part of class. No, your favorite part was the ten minutes before class' end. The ten minutes where you'd fold your sheet of parchment into a little bird, enchant it, and send it flapping away to Percy's desk. The paper-bird would flap around his head (him swatting with one hand, writing with the other) before landing gracefully on the desk before him. 

You'd barely manage to suppress a laugh when his head would whip around, horn-rimmed glasses hanging on by a thread as he scanned the classroom. You'd never spoken to him much. Nothing more than an, "Excuse me." and, "Has the train left yet?" But as the only other lucid person in the room, he was the perfect target.

Today you decided to modify your routine. Before folding the parchment you jotted down a quick message. Just one sentence. It wasn’t a big deal, really. There was certainly no change to your heartbeat as you pondered the various ways he’d react. Would he crumple the paper and throw it on the ground? Perhaps he’d stand on his chair and shout a stern warning. Maybe he’d slowly turn around and find your eyes, the last few months of grievances adding up to a blushworthy conclusion.

You folded the paper along invisible lines before giving a quick look around the classroom. The coast was clear. Wand in hand, you whispered a few words punctuated with an imperceptible flick of the wrist. 

The paper bird charted a different course, instead landing at the head of Percy’s parchment, prim and waiting. You feigned boredom as he craned his neck to skim the classroom. Nothing to see here. You watched him readjust his posture as he ignored the little creature. Impatient, you drummed your fingers on the desk.

The boom of the bell jolted the room awake and groggy students packed their bags. You got to the door when you chanced a look around. Head whipping around the room, face a loud crimson with the note splayed out in front of him:

Your glasses are crooked- but they’re cuter that way :p

frfri | percy weasley fic recs

a strange thing about force sensitive twins.

Luke and Leia have the Twin Thing.

No, not the I feel your pain Twin Thing, but the small things that happen to one, happen to the other thing.

Like the flu, the chickenpox, and the soft teeth at the same time.

And the unintentional outfit matches.

Or the four times the twins had weird coincidences happen, and the one time, in a happier universe, their parents tried to stop the inevitable.

A space twins 4+1 short fic.

trigger warnings- angst, hurt no comfort, use of y/n like once, main character death, mentions of divorced parents

“Huuuuuuunterrrr~~~” you sung out. “Oh, there you are! Come on, we have a cake to bake.”

“Oh yeah I totally forgot you conned me into,helping you with that.”

“Conned? How you wound me.” You sighed with the dramatics of a homeschooled theater kid.

Hunter rolled his eyes affectionately. It sent waves of butterflies soaring through your stomach, though you ignored it. You were used to them by now. Crushing on Hunter for, what? seven months now? had had that effect on you. He was so pretty, so lovely. You couldn’t believe you had once hated him. And now you were so in love. But he would never know that. 

You turned around and started walking to the kitchen. After all, you had a red velvet white chocolate cream cheese dark chocolate ganache etc etc cake to create (happy birthday to Gus, who of course wanted the most over-the-top cake ever).

Hunter smiled. It was a soft, sweet smile, the kind of smile that didn’t banish the dark but was simply a quiet glow in the night. You were always so dramatic, but he loved it. He loved you, if he was being completely honest with himself. It hurt in the way only love could, to be best friends with you, to be so close and yet so far away. There was a degree of separation between the two of you. So close to lovers but too oblivious to see the signs.

But the two of you still baked. Despite the unrequited requited love, despite the obvious chemistry between you, despite the longing glances and lingering touches, you baked. Somehow you got through making the cake (thank the baking gods because Hunter couldn’t use a spatula for some reason) with only a few smudges of batter and flour on your apron. It was therapeutic, to say the least. You used to bake all the time in the Human Realm whenever your parents were fighting. It was a way to control something through the uncontrollable world of divorce. But you were in the Boiling Isles now. So much out of your control, so little time for anything, really, other than planning and plotting and fighting and crying.

So this was nice. Chaotic, maybe, but calm somehow. Sunlight filtered in through the large windows of the Owl House. And now came the fun part—assembly and frosting.

“Okay so here’s how we’re gonna do this. Have you ever decorated a cake?”

“Uhm… no.”

“Okay, so first we’re gonna do a crumb coat, then we do the actual frosting, then a ganache drip around the edges, and then something like ‘happy birthday Gus’ in the middle. Maybe add some, like, flowers?”

Hunter looked a tad overwhelmed.

“And you find this calming?” He questioned.

“Oh don’t be like that. This is the best part!”

Hunter sighed in the most affectionate way. If Willow or Luz were here, you knew exactly what they’d say. How he clearly liked you, how sweet you two were, how you should just ask him out already! And you would deny the allegations with a blush and tell them to shut up. Maybe deep down you knew he liked you. But the surface level anxiety pushed anything down, because you loved Hunter and you weren’t going to let some stupid feelings ruin your friendship. You wouldn’t tell him even though it killed you.

. . .

“No no no no no nonononono. Hunter. Hunter you’ll be okay. Well- we’ll get you help! Just stay awake, okay?” You held Hunter’s body in your arms, watching the life slowly drain from his face. He looked pale. So pale. Tears streamed from your eyes. 

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. Fine, and then not. Alive, and then on his deathbed. 

“Y/n, we both know I won’t make it out. I’m so sorry.” He sounded so weak.

“No, don’t-“ you choked out a sob, “don’t apologize.”

“Before I go… I have to tell you. I’ve had a crush on you since we met. You mean so much to me,” he took a rattling breath in before continuing on, “and I wish I had told you that before but I was so scared to hurt you,”

“Stop. Hunter I- I’ve had a crush on you for so long. I didn’t want to tell you because I couldn’t handle losing you— I mean, I am now— and I just, just,” you started crying and couldn’t finish your sentence.

2038 words

CW for knife violence, blood, a bit of space horror, and then just Among Us in general

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65356930

I can also see him being determined as hell and not fazed by any of readers off the wall antics. just summing it up to her being unique and honest. Not even knowing that she’s been working at his father’s company longer than he has.

"It’d been three months, long enough for them to pretend they’d both forgotten. Long enough to pretend they hadn’t spent the last two years hiding in supply closets with the door locked."

Jon and Tim are in a secret relationship until Jon suddenly gets promoted to Head Archivist after Gertrude goes missing.

notes: This has been in my WIPs for almost a year at this point, so excited to finally have it done! I had kind of lost my spark with it so it feels a little rushed. :( I also tried to do a quick proofread but if i missed anything let me know and i'll edit it!

ao3 link