#Gentle finger touches too amirite

[wxnheart]

After that mission with König and Horangi technically the three of you are not officially together but someone these two bastards have scared off any potential one night stands.

And Horangi has been subtle with his claim and affection towards a soft touch across your lower back, a gentle hand grab to pull you away from bumping into people.

König oh dear, he call king for a reason. Stares down anyone from a far when the speak to you, him casually press again you against the wall touches your face, and kissing you under his mask. Saying between kisses mine, pretty girl. Growls when you play at his neck.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐕𝐨𝐥. 𝟐, 𝐓𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

König whose anxiety goes right out the window when he sees someone getting a little too close to his Schatz.

Horangi who doesn't hesitate to make you flush in the presence of others because why not? They do know who you belong to, right? Right?

König who, if he had his way, would shadow you whenever and wherever he can. A king has to protect his valuables after all.

Horangi who does shadow you and keeps his distance. Simultaneously. For reasons. Reasons that involve keeping you on your toes and in a heightened state of pure fucking want.

You're no better, doing everything in your power to tempt these two men, to urge and make them claim what's rightfully theirs. And so you encourage the banter, you encourage this... thing that smolders between you.

You feel their eyes on you, even if you don't acknowledge them, even if you don't say anything. You just continue talking to... hell, it doesn't matter. All that matters is purposely ignoring König's steely gaze and Horangi's... everything.

Horangi who makes it his priority to press your buttons, find what makes you tick, and use it to his advantage. Ah, so you do like his hands, eh? Horangi who surprises you by running a finger lightly over your lips and it's all you can do to keep from sucking on it.

König who finds out just what his size does to you. And once again, anxiety be damned, he shamelessly shows a side of himself that leaves you wanting more. König who corners you one day and presses against you, hardened muscle taut with self-restraint. You press yourself against him with equal vigor and for the first time (of many), you shiver in response to the deep rumble of his growl. Oh, König...

Horangi and König are now tired of the fucking games and are ready to claim their prize. About damn time.

Horangi and König manage to get you alone. You're sandwiched tightly in between the two of them and fuck yes—

You're enveloped in arms and roving hands who can't get enough of you, and finally, fucking finally, you beat Horangi at his own game. He bites down on his lip to keep from groaning because if your mouth feels this fucking good around his finger, just imagine how good it would feel in other places. Goddamn.

Just TigerKing things, amirite?

[theunholybastard]

Kinktober: October 21st - Double Penetration (Papa Emeritus III x Omega x Female!Reader)

Tags: Double Penetration, Threesome, Monster-Fucking, Size Kink, Light Pain Kink, Praise, Creampies, 2nd Person POV

It's no secret that Terzo got around. And furthermore, it's no secret that he had his favorites. Everyone knew the third Papa had taken a particular liking to his most loyal Ghoul, Omega. He had certainly possessed a type for tall, beefy men, and Omega fit the criteria to a T.

Getting fucked by a Ghoul is far more different than it is with a human, the proportions drastically... larger. It was rougher, animalistic. The claws, the teeth, the inhuman strength, it was addicting. It's a wonder Terzo would still want to have sex with humans after taking a knot for the first time. But as much as he loves to be dominated and ruined by a Ghoul twice his height, hes also quite fond of doing the dominating. Not dominating Omega, no, that'd be like a chihuahua trying to hump a mastiff. But on the occasion, Terzo and his Ghoul enjoy taking in a willing sibling to share for the night, and destroy.

Tonight was one of those nights. You've been fawning over Papa Terzo for months now, and today must've been your lucky day, as he has finally returned your attention. He was up front about his intentions when he invited you to his chambers. He had told you this would most likely be a one night endeavor, and he had explained how rough the two of them were planning to be, sharing a safe word just in case it ever got too much for you, and finished by asking if you could take it. You were more enthusiastic than he expected, unbeknownst to him, you had a taste for Ghouls as well.

When you showed, they were already warming themselves up. You walked in on Terzos mouth impaled on Omegas cock, taking in a surprising amount like he was a professional. You could see the outline of the Ghouls large length moving in his throat. Terzo pulled off when he noticed you, a string of spit connecting his puffy lips and the tip of Omegas dick. "There she is!" Terzo cheered, a goofy smile plastered on his face. His paints were already heavily smeared. They were clearly having quite the time already without you, and in the grand scheme of things, they didn't really need you there. But they wanted you, that's all that matters.

"Make yourself comfortable." Omega suggested, patting the empty space on the bed. You did as you were told, already expressing obedience. The men clambered off of each other, focusing their attention unto you now, beginning to strip you of your clothes. Their hands grope at every inch of skin that is made bare to them, whispering sweet praises into your ear, though it's Terzo who's doing most of the talking.

Their touches feel drastically different from each other, but both feel incredible. Terzos hands are soft, warm, his grip gentle but confidently assertive. Meanwhile Omegas were noticeably bigger, calloused and rough, his grasp tight and possessive. You could feel his claws scrape at your hips when he pulled down your panties, accidentally, but the sensation sent a jolt of arousal straight down to your core.

Terzos fingers prodded your hole the instant it was exposed to him, your slick allowing him to slip two inside with ease and curling upwards. You cry out, head thrown back as the two have you sandwiched in between them, rendering you unable to escape even if you wanted to. "Does that feel good, tesoro?" Terzo cooed. Your moans of appreciation were all he needed to hear in response.

"We have to get you nice and stretched for this. You'll need it for this guys cock, amirite?!" He swatted Omegas shoulder playfully, causing Omega to roll his eyes and stifle a bashful smile. "We don't wanna hurt our pretty girl now, do we?" Once Terzo is satisfied with his fingering, he pulls out his fingers, licking up the excess wetness with a shit-eating grin.

They get you into position, on your elbows and knees, holes exposed and glistening. Terzo is behind you first, lining himself up with your cunt, pushing in. Your mouth hung agape from the stretch, and Omega took that as an invitation to stuff the tip of his cock in your mouth. He was absolutely fucking massive, you couldn't even take it a quarter way in without gagging. No way it's going to fit in your cunt when his turn comes. Still, he strokes your hair and encourages you, never taking his eyes off of yours.

"Your mouth feels so good, pretty girl. J-just like that. You're doing great." Omega hums, biting his lip to conceal his pleasured grunts. Terzos thrusts are set at a medium pace, calculated to slam against your cervix with every buck. "Her mouth feels good?" Terzo questioned, talking to Omegas as if you weren't even there. Omega nodded. "Fuck yeah."

"Not as good as mine though, right?" He teased with a grin, a hint of jealousy embered in his voice. Omega groaned in annoyance, paired with one particular gag from you that had your throat tightening around his shaft that pulled that throaty noise from him. "Don't put me in this position." Omega tutted, Terzo throwing his head back in laughter. "How's her cunt?"

"So tight." Terzo huffed, his pace speeding up. "Such a perfect, wet pussy. You're going to love it." You clench at his words, Terzo chuckling at the reaction. "She gets tighter the more we talk about her. She loves the attention, isn't that right?" You hum contently around Omegas dick. Terzo licks a stripe on his finger, lubing it up, before sticking it in your ass, no warning. You didn't need one. You knew what would happen before you arrived. Still, the penetration startled you initially, yelping and tensing around both the cocks that were splitting you. Omega smiles at the feeling. "You're fun." He comments.

Terzos fingers work your ass open, prepping you for something bigger. He revels in the fact he can feel his cock fucking your pussy through the walls of your ass, but he doesn't comment, for the first time in his life rendered speechless. "Do you want a turn with her cunt, Omega? Looks like her asshole is ready for me." Omega shakes his head enthusiastically, popping your mouth off his dick gently. Terzo pulls out as well, sitting you up to where both of your holes able to be accessed to the men now. Terzo, still behind you, now lines up with your asshole, and Omega, with his ridiculously big manhood, aligns with your pussy. You brace yourself.

They both push in in-sync, your body clenching and instantly subconsciously rejecting the feeling of both of them at once. They keep going, Omega already setting a cruelly fast pace, unfair on your poor cunt. Terzo, as gentle as he could be with your ass, is still stretching it out so incredibly wide, you feel like you're about to explode. Arguably two of the biggest cocks in the ministry were splitting you in half, and you were completely helpless.

The overwhelming sensitivity would cause you to cum quite soon, your legs convulsing and screaming so obnoxiously loud, you'd think someone was being murdered. Their paces were unrelenting and unreal, you could practically feel them in your stomachs. All you could do was babble incoherently, "it's too much, t-too much!" But you knew what to say if it actually was. And you knew they weren't going to let up unless you said it. No matter what.

"Oh, tesoro. You feel fucking exquisite. D-doesn't she feel fucking divine, amore mio?" He gestures to Omega, who looks out of it, pussy-drunk and mindless. "T-this is the t-tightest fucking c-cunt. Holy shit!" Terzo doesn't bother back with an annoying quip, 'tighter than my asshole?' because after having been inside two of your holes, he knows the answer.

Terzo is the first to cum, his warm liquids filling the gummy walls of your ass. The sensation felt foreign, but you welcomed it. Omega takes a little longer to do so, hips stuttering and breathing growing heavier. But he achieves the end goal soon enough, excessive, thick spurts flooding your womb. They still, filling you up to the brim, piercing you while they smushed your torso to rest their bodies on each other. Terzo leans over you to kiss Omega, their tongues dancing obscenely with each other's, saliva dripping down their chins. Their cocks twitched inside of you, your poor, abused holes just aching and throbbing.

You could fall asleep like this, sandwich between two sweaty hunks. But like all good things, it must come to an end. They both pull out, much to your dismay, and clean you up. They cuddle you, they shower you in reassurances and praises, and after the aftercare is finished, it's time for you to leave. You don't take it personally. You're sure there's plenty of private moments they'd want to be having right now. They were in love with each other, after all. And they were in love with your pussy.

-

[crowleymowley]

@bingokisses - Gentle Shoulder Bump

[yandere-sins]

Boss

Let’s be honest I am around booktok too much, but mmmmhm vampires, amirite?

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere!Vampire x GN!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Innuendos, Violence (Biting Mention, Death Mention off-screen, Whipping Mention, Blood Mention), Slavery in terms of vampires being superior over humans, Mention of selling blood for services, “Blood Virgins/Blood Mates”, Reader gets brought up under cult-like circumstances, Reader is supposed to get auctioned off

Prompt: @sintember Taboo - Polite, civilised people don’t do these sorts of things. But some choose not to care.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««    

The sound of laughter and glasses clinking together reached you.

A bustle of noise, hushed voices, and polite questions echoed through the room. You were all the more receptive to it, with your eyes blindfolded and your senses sharpening. The air was heavy with cigar smoke and flowery perfumes, and despite not being able to see, you felt a strong light shine down on you as you kneeled on the floor, two burly men standing next to you and keeping you sitting upright.

Even though you knew what was going to happen, you gulped, feeling nervous.

You had waited for this day for the better part of your—still young—life. Your coming of age had been ritualized and celebrated, and you were washed, clothed, and prepared for the occasion. Many nights you had wished the day would never come. The other girls and boys you grew up with and lived with until your early adulthood, liked to tell horror stories about your future as much as they liked to romanticize all of it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, revered guests!" The booming voice coming close to you made you flinch, tearing you out of your memories. You had been waiting for this moment all your life, but it still surprised you, perhaps a given without being able to see. The voices around you slowly died down, a few last laughs being exchanged before the room got quiet, and you heard your heartbeat quicken, resulting in a constant thrumming in your head.

"We've come together today to decide the fate of our lovely blood virgin!"

Fingers brushed beneath your jaw, urging you to let your head fall back and show your neck. The touch of who you assumed must have been the auctioneer was almost reverently gentle, which made sense for ware as precious as you were. Truth be told, you never thought of yourself as especially pretty or incredibly clever. Still, the delightful moans going through the crowd as you presented your perfectly unscathed neck went straight to your ego, tingling your core and sending heat to your head which seemed to rouse the people's passion even more.

People might have been a stretch. In a world ruled by vampires, someone like you—a blood virgin, unbitten and kept locked away until you were ripe to be sold—was a delicacy. Usually, every remaining human had a bite or a dozen on them, selling their blood for loans and protection. Even your instructors had them, and you weren't shielded from the ugly truths about how much biting hurt and how humans were barely better than cattle to vampires. That was, frankly said, what scared you.

Someone like you, who was prepared from childhood to be property, had no rights and no means of saving yourself from what was to come. Sure, the other blood virgins liked to dream about being taken in as personal blood slaves to some wealthy, handsome vampires that would spoil them and treat them as well as a human could be expected to be treated. But you didn't believe in that. You only believed in the screams you heard as you walked to the room your big sister had been brought to after her auction. No one had stood guard, and you fearfully took a glimpse through the keyhole. Only to hear gurgles and see… blood. So much blood.

Your sister never came back.

Even when they tried to tell you she was merely taken to the vampire that bought her, you didn't believe it after what you saw. And you didn't believe there was any hope for you either. When the touch of the auctioneer slipped beneath the velvety blindfold, you wished you could have kept it on. You didn't want to see the faces of murderers enjoying their lives. You didn't want to see the vampire that would take you from your home. You had been trained for this occasion your whole life, but in the end, you weren't ready.

No matter how well they had whipped good behavior into your body, you couldn't do it. When the blindfold lifted from your face, appreciative murmurs going through the mass below the stage, your world seemed to slow down. For a few seconds, your anxiety made everything come to a halt as you breathed heavily. The spotlight shining down on you hurt your eyes, and you couldn't see anything really, in the darkness below the stage you were on. But in a moment of fear-induced clarity, you knew this was your only chance. The only moment they didn't expect you to act.

Before you could think it through, you bolted.

Slipped right out of the guards' grip and pushed aside the gentle auctioneer, not even having seen that man's face if he even was one. Your feet lost their footing as you couldn't see where the stage ended, dropping you off the edge into soft but smelly carpet floor. Your body was pounding blood through it, making it thrum in your ears and filling you with adrenaline. The sound of the crowd gasping in surprise barely reached you as your mind was filled with the symphony of your body and the desire to escape.

You got up before anyone could reach you in time, just running forward despite not seeing anything in the darkness yet. Vaguely, the humanoid shapes of the guests darted by you as you hoped to reach the end of the room to escape it. You'd not end up like your sister. That was your only thought as you hurled your body into a door, fumbling to find a door handle to push it open.

This wasn't normal. You shouldn't have to accept your fate as cattle for vampires, a blood bank for just one night. Even if all your life led up to this moment, no one should have the right to treat you as less than worthy of living. It was insane to just sit and wait for someone to buy you so they could drink your blood and kill you when they had no use for you anymore. You never even kissed someone, much less experienced the world outside of the walls of the monastery where you were kept!

Finally, you managed to push the door open, slipping out the smallest gap you managed to pry open while you felt dozens of hands reach for you from behind. Hungry, greedy hands wanting to pull you back and devour you with hair and skin. They didn't care if you got hurt or even if you were still alive when they got to you, but now that you broke the most important rule—absolute obedience—you were free game. Monsters. All of them!

But you did it! You escaped them! And as you threw the door back in its lock behind you, a smile of relief painted your lips, knowing you made it. Your body's ache returned as you blindly ran into solid matter, forcing you to stumble back against the door as the way forward was blocked off. Not even your hands could have saved you from the wall right where you slipped out, and your senses slowly returned, the adrenaline running dangerously low now that you felt accomplished. Behind you, growly, angry vampires crashed into the wood, shaking the door and slamming their fists into it, no one managing to actually open the exit in their frenzy. All while you stayed still as a mouse, listening to their curses and then a tongue clicking right before you.

"Well-behaved and trained blood slaves don't act this way, you know? Running and creating a fuss. For what? You think you can outrun them?"

You flinched as someone crashed into the wood at your back, the man talking to you taking a step forward, caging you between him and the door, keeping the exit barred with his strength. No, once again, this was no man. With a soothing, deep voice and an expensive scent coming from him, he couldn't be human. Hesitantly, you allowed yourself to look up from beneath your lashes, the spare lightning in the hallway barely enough to illuminate all of his body. Expensive metal accessories decorated him, throwing back the light at you, but the rest was coated in darkness with only the red of his eyes shining through.

It might have been naive to think you could escape, but at least, you had nothing to lose now.

"Civilized and decent beings wouldn't auction off blood virgins into their death."

"Oh?" he hummed, amused by you speaking back. Even if your voice was barely more than a whisper and a shaky one at that, your words seemed to have reached him. Inwardly, however, you cringed. Talking back to a vampire was a big no-no, and this taboo had been burned into your very soul. Even though... you had to admit it felt kind of good to finally speak your mind. You felt his hand fall to your hair, letting the strands you had been forced to grow out, glide through his fingers, his touch running cold shudders down your spine. Without being able to see him properly and predict his movements, everything felt so much worse again, like you were back on the stage, blindfolded and devoted to your duty.

"But we don't kill our blood virgins, you know?" he tried to explain, but it only made you angrier. Of course, he'd say that.

"Liar!" you barked, surprising yourself at how strong the word left you. But you meant it, and seeing him recoil in surprise for a split second felt like a victory. If you could at least shock one of them before your inevitable death, you already achieved more than most blood virgins.

"I am not a liar," he hissed, leaning forward and pressing his body into yours. "I can't speak for everyone, but a blood virgin is a commitment forever. Once we drink the blood of one, it's the only blood we'll want, and they become our blood mates for the rest of their lives. Do you understand?"

Your mind was fighting against you to believe him, but somehow, his words sounded more genuine than you expected them to be. He spoke them with pride and conviction. Clearly, he could be lying, his honeyed voice trying to soothe you for the bite, but why would he say these things then?

"It's an obsession, pure delightful need that we want to constantly satisfy. You humans would call it… love? We want our blood mates to always be around us, and no one is allowed to touch or taste them except us. Much less kill them, little human."

"I…" you mumbled, trying to process the information you were given. But all of this didn't change your mind about the whole thing. "I don't want that… I would rather die than be someone's property like this."

"We'll see about that," he huffed, his hand gripping your arm as he pulled you back into his chest, finally allowing the door to open, bodies falling out of it that you assumed were the staff members. They groaned and slowly got up, but their sounds fell silent just as quickly, and a voice you recognized as the auctioneer perked up, hesitantly addressing the man that pressed you against his body.

"S-Sir! What a pleasure to see you! We had a small hiccup, but the auction will resume any second now!"

"No need," he waved him off, and you felt his cold hand grip the clothes you were wearing, giving off a possessive vibe. "I will take this one for myself. The auction is off; you can send everyone home."

"B-But, Boss…" the auctioneer stammered, and your eyes widened, body tensing as goosebumps erupted all over your skin hearing the auctioneer call this man his boss. Without much regard for the poor auctioneer left to handle all the angry guests grumbling behind him, you were dragged away by the auction boss, the one in charge of raising and selling the blood virgins. The most evil one of them all.

And as you stared into his face, occasionally lit by the lights in the hallway and too handsome for such a creature, no signs of aging or care about anything other than his selfish desires, his eyes found yours, a grin curling on his lips.

"We'll see if you'll still refuse to be mine when I give you pleasure beyond what you'll ever know. One you'll never get from anyone but me, Darling."

[malaks-perch]

minotaur muriel???

i don't know, i just missed him

warnings: a swear?? fluffy stuff bc i love him

meeting this man is honestly the best

went looking for some murderous minotaur on a whim and you accidentally find this gigantic hybrid nursing a few baby fawns

yeah whoopty doo amirite?

but imagine this giant man ushering them off real fast and then a pair of horns directed towards you with a hoof pawing the ground

as soon as you turn tail, he's definitely chasing after you

not for laughs, just to make sure you don't come back

but when you fall and hurt yourself and start crying because you think he's gonna hurt you

he's stopping and reconsidering his actions

imagine getting stuck in the mud with a sprained ankle and then you see a seven foot minotaur crawling towards you, hair hastily covering his face and poking your ankle

it's horrifying ngl

big man with hair all down his face and flushed from running after you?? cmon it's definitely a little scary

but it doesn't take rain for him to pick you up and set you off to the side out of the mud

he'd watch and feel guilty when he realizes you can't make it back to your little village alone

would go to leave you but his conscience makes it hard for him to leave

he remembers what it was like to be alone as a tiny little calf :(

comes and gives you some berries he finds and watches you eat while he waits for someone to come looking for you, but when no one does he takes you home

was taken back when you asked if he was going to eat you, but you know.. "strong silent type"

the look on his face would've made you laugh if he hadn't brought you back to a tiny little camp he made for himself

but he'd give you fruits and vegetables, watching you eat and staying alert because if there's anything he doesn't like it's surprises

him carrying you around the first week, to give you water, usher you towards the camp fire, small things

his touch is SO gentle

it would blow anyone away with how gentle he is for his size

you saw him nearly take a tree down when his shoulder grazed it, but to be carried with a careful hand under your knees and on your back

you'd be lying if you said it wasn't nice

also catch him tracing your skin when you fall asleep

but when you sleep ohhh boy does he feel pervy

never seen a human this close, the poor boyo

peeking your ears bc they're not floppy and don't rotate like his and shit he loves how you have little fingers on your foot

dw he later learns the little fingers are toes but you should've seen his smile, oh my gosh

you know how you compare your hand to someone else's and they smile like ha cute

yeah that's muriel😩

big unrestrained sheepish smile bc wow little fingers on their little hoof hand

he gets used to carrying you around too

knows that you like your head near his heart, will keep you close when he has to be your extra body heat for the night

gets so flustered when he takes you to go bathe

never stays for it but you should see his face when he carries you towards the water

you'll be fully dressed and his floppy ears will be pushed back nearly hidden in his hair and blushing with his eyes cast off bc he knows you're about to get naked hehe

made you a little crutch so you could walk around while he gets food and so he wouldn't have to carry you to shower all the time

he still likes when you ask if you can sit by him because it's cold

he feels needed :')

he also likes when you're sleepy

he thinks your lidded eyes are cute especially when you're trying to stay awake with him

finds it endearing how you don't like him staying up alone bc you think something could happen to him and you wouldn't know

your hands tracing his scars are his heaven

nearly cried when you mumbled how pretty he was, with or without the marks

but when your leg is better and you both subconsciously know now that it's time for you to leave, he does something remarkable

his tail swishing behind him, a handful of wild flowers, while his fingers play with the tufts of fur on his thigh

"i didn't mean for you to get hurt when i scared you"

ahh man you should see the distaste he has when you throw your arms around him

the laugh you give off while you hug him makes him smile though

kiss his cheek and promise to visit him

he likes having you around

© all work belongs to malaks perch 2021. do not modify, change, or copy works for use.

[speuradair]

Amajiki Tamaki With An Autistic S/O

Request: "hi :D can i request tamaki with an autistic s/o?"

Tamaki would absolutely be the sweetest boyfriend ever

You know, just in general

But especially when his s/o is autistic!

He's inherently very understanding and considerate, it's just how he is

When he finds out that you're autistic, he becomes all the more gentle

The last thing he wants to do is upset you or hurt you

Tamaki is naturally quiet, so that's not really something he has to adjust

He generally prefers to do something chill with you

Though, if you're the type to ramble or talk a lot, that's totally cool!

He's an awesome listener

He could listen to you talk about your interests for hours and never get bored

Not only because he likes to hear your voice, but because your special interests are so fascinating to him

He almost always ends up sharing hyper-fixations with you

Double the interest, double the serotonin, amirite

Tamaki would stim with you

He fidgets a lot from his own anxiety, so he totally gets it

There's nothing he loves more than holding you in his lap and rocking with you

It started as something he did to calm you down, but now he does it when he's upset, too

Very soothing for his panic attacks, he would recommend

Tamaki always has a fidget toy/stim toy on him

He's kept one in his pocket since Mirio gave him one, and he was super proud of himself the first time he was able to offer it to you!!

He was unintentionally prepared :')

After that, he carries at least two with him- the one he's had, and one that you prefer

He would be so flustered, but so honored if you want to stim by playing with his fingers or with his hair

He gets the rosy flush on his cheeks, and he turns his head away from you to hide it

Don't stop though! He really likes it, actually

Tamaki recognizes the anxiety and discomfort you experience when you have an overload or a meltdown

He knows how upsetting and scary it is, and he hates that you have to go through that

When you get overwhelmed or start to have a meltdown, Tamaki is quick to get you away from whatever triggered it

He's very good at recognizing the signs that you're getting upset

If you're in public/around other people, he just guides you away without saying anything

It might seem abrupt to the others, but the last thing he's worried about in that moment is explaining it to others

He's preoccupied trying to take care of you and make sure you're okay

If you're okay with being touched, he pulls you into his chest as soon as you two are in private

He'll hold you close to make you feel safe, and help you cover your ears and eyes to reduce the sensory input

If you don't like being touched, he still stays with you, but keeps his distance

He's there for you, but he isn't smothering you

He'd give you earplugs or earbuds, letting you listen to something soothing on his phone

Once he's sure that talking won't agitate you more, he's mumbling soft reassuring words to you

Telling you that he's proud of you, that you're doing a great job at calming down, that you're so strong, that he loves you

He knows first hand how embarrassing it can be to have a panic attack or meltdown in public, and he wants you to know that he isn't judging you for it

Then, once you're feeling a bit better, the first thing he does is get you some water

Crying makes you dehydrated, and the last thing you need now is a migraine

For a while after you've had a meltdown, Tamaki is even more gentle with you than usual

He does everything for you

Sometimes it gets a little annoying because he ends up babying you, but he has only good intentions

He wants to make sure you're recovering and feeling better!

Hear me out here- Tamaki would learn sign language if you use it when you're non-verbal or semi-verbal

He might even know it already

Would 100% be your translator when you're non-verbal around people who don't know sign language

He has social anxiety himself, but he finds it easier to push past his own anxiety when he's helping you with yours

✨ loophole ✨

Nejire and Mirio become just as protective of you as Tamaki is

They've already adopted Tamaki as their Anxious Friend™, they're more than happy to 'adopt' you too

There's something comforting about being with someone who understands your mental health

You two might not have the exact same struggles or triggers, but there's solidarity in going through similar things

There's less judgement, and more understanding

It makes it easier to confide in each other

You two just get eachother, you know?

You're on the same wavelength

10/10, a perfect couple

[bellshells]

Nobody Can Know Part 3

Part three of nobody can know, I’ve actually split part three into two (maybe three) different parts. It was burgeoning on upwards of 35k words and I figured it’s too much in one post, so I’ll be posting what is now part four soon. Thank you for bearing with me whilst I got my shit together, and as always, I hope you enjoy! 

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Slytherin Reader Warnings: Smut (start as we mean to go on amirite), Langauge, Alcohol, Smoking, Threat(?), Angst Summary: It all goes tits up lads, that’s all I’m going to say. Word Count: 11k+ Part One Part Four @alpha-cera 

“George,” You moaned, a new wave of sheer pleasure coursed through you and built deep in your stomach. The red head on top of you frowned, his brow furrowed; a thin sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. He continued his thrusts, each eliciting a smothered moan from your parted lips.

“Quiet, witch. You’re going to let the whole house know how well you’re being fucked.” George scolded, he placed a large hand over your mouth and quickened his pace. He filled every inch of you and yet you yearned for more. George flicked his hips against yours, gritting his teeth to suppress the moan that threatened to escape. You knew you wouldn’t last much longer, especially with the muggle vibrator fixed to your clit with the help of a sticking charm. You whined against George’s hand; you could taste the saltiness of his skin as you gazed up into the face of the person you loved most in the world. His eyes were half closed, and lips parted with a sigh that fell effortlessly from them, you overcome with love for him. George. He was yours and you were his.

  You hadn’t considered how much your life would change in the short time since you had arrived at The Burrow, how life in general would be different. You certainly hadn’t imagined going from the sprawling grounds of your family’s estate to a tiny flat above a joke shop in Diagon Alley. You weren’t there though, not tonight. Not in your flat which you had lovingly filled with books and exotic plants with a window seat big enough for two. No, you were in a single bed surrounded by wallpaper that peeled sadly from the walls and a faint muskiness from the heavy, moth-eaten curtains. Voices carried from beneath the floorboards of Grimmauld Place as the iron bedframe began to skid across the dusty floor. You knew you had had maybe ten or fifteen minutes before the meeting was the begin; so in true George fashion he had suggested you slip away, far up the creaky staircase to the very top of the house, where a dark attic room waited. It had been a struggle at first, manoeuvring the small space as George had tugged hungrily at your clothes. The bed was small, almost humorously so. It reminded you of your bed at Hogwarts, and how you had been shocked and a little impressed when Fred had told you he had managed to sneak Angelina into his dorm and they had shared his tiny bed. A few misplaced arms and a foot set firmly on the floor had allowed George to gain a delicious purchase of your frame, and he wasted no time in running his throbbing head against your slick folds.

  Your eyes widened as George’s hand slipped from your mouth and wrapped around your neck, he squeezed tightly, and your eyes rolled back in delight. You absolutely adored it when George was rough with you, you knew he was really enjoying himself if he was. Whilst you found yourself on fire with his gentle touches and caresses, you were utterly flung into the inferno when he grappled at your skin; when he spanked you and when he wrapped his hands around your throat. You tried to moan, you tried to let him know how he made you feel, to let him know you were about to come. All you could do was reach for him, your arms found his shoulders and you pressed your fingernails down into his flesh and tugged slightly, as if it were possible for him to get any closer. George understood and released his grip of your throat slightly, his sharp thrusts more erratic as he lowered his head to your ear.   “Are you going to come, little witch?” George breathed and you shuddered, his breath was hot on your skin and you could hear how strained his voice was; like he was merely waiting for your confirmation before he would find his own release. You couldn’t speak, how could you when George’s hand again squeezed your throat, tighter than before. You choked on the moan that tried to escape, George groaned at the sight. You managed a nod as your orgasm took you, it convulsed through your body; more intense than you had ever felt. George followed almost instantly, his body falling forward onto yours as if he were melting. Your legs trembled as the waved subsided, the weight of him on top of you pushed the vibrator even harder against your overstimulated clit. It didn’t appear thar George had noticed until you began to squirm beneath him, a whimper escaped you as the little bullet shaped object pleasantly painful, trundled you towards another orgasm. If you weren’t about to come for the second time, you would have laughed at George’s shocked expression. He blinked at you, once, twice and then a third time before he seemed to understand what was happening. A look of sheer elation seemed to illuminate his face and he pushed himself back until he sat on his heels, you whined at the loss of contact but without missing a beat, George pressed his hand against the vibrator and pressed hard. You gasped and your second orgasm erupted through you like needles under your skin, it was deliciously uncomfortable as you bucked your hips against the delightful buzz. George laughed almost incredulously as you rode out the second wave until finally, he muttered the un-stick charm and the little vibrator fell away.

  You were breathless and sweaty, the inside of your thighs coated with the evidence of your passion and George ran a hand through his unkempt hair. You couldn’t move, it was like your every appendage was made of lead and no matter how you tried, you couldn’t lift them.   “Such a shame we’re not going home tonight, (Y/N). I’d love to hear the pretty noises you’d make when I make you come over and over again with this.” George said breezily, he lifted the vibrator and dropped it onto the bed before pointing his wand at it and casting a quick Scourgify. You watched him lazily as he dressed, he was thinner than he used to be. He pulled his belt to the last but one hole and buckled it. You assumed it was the stress of the shop that had caused him to lose the weight, neither Fred nor George had anticipated how popular the shop was going to be when they opened. The first day alone had seen the twins more than triple what they had paid into the business and since then, George had barely had a day off. You didn’t mind though, not really, you enjoyed seeing him in his element with his brother. He whizzed around the shop like a tornado, his mind constantly ticking over what they could do to make things bigger and better. He had found a new confidence in himself, on those days that Fred wasn’t there, and he didn’t have to share the role of ‘Boss’, George was in charge. George excelled in it, and it was a dynamic that he had brought home with him into the bedroom, which you thoroughly enjoyed.

  George pulled his shirt over his head and tossed your knickers over to you.   “Are you coming downstairs?” He asked, you chewed on your lip. Did you want to go downstairs to sit outside of a meeting you weren’t welcome at? It was Sirius that didn’t trust you, you knew that, and it wasn’t something you necessarily lost sleep over; but it still bothered you the same. George told you everything that was said in the meetings anyway, so its not as if you were kept in the dark- but that wasn’t the point. Sirius was suspicious of you, coming from the family you did. The Weasley’s had spoken in your defence, even Harry and Hermione who had shown no interest toward you beforehand had tried to get Sirius on side. But he wouldn’t budge, and rather than forcing his hand in his own house, you had elected not to join The Order. It seemed to suit everybody that way, Sirius didn’t have to speak with you, but you were kept in the loop.   “Oi, are you even listening to me?” George waved his hand in front of your face. Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment and you stood.   “Sorry love, I was just thinking.”   “About what?” He sat and watched you as you searched on the floor for your discarded items of clothing. You pushed your legs into your jeans and clasped your bra before pulling your shirt over your head.   “I might go home George, if we’re supposed to be leaving early tomorrow morning to meet everyone off the train anyway, I’d be halfway there if I went tonight.”   “Why do you want to go home? Are you okay?” He asked, concern flashed across his face as he rose to meet you. George took your face in his hands and brought his lips down to yours in a tender kiss.   “I’m fine, honestly I am. I just don’t fancy waiting around for however long for you lot to finish your meeting and then sleep here as well- I just, want my own bed. I’m really tired, I had a hellish shift in the shop today and I’m due on my period any minute now and-” George placed a finger on your lips to silence you. He frowned slightly, his hands fell to your shoulders and have then a squeeze.   “You don’t have to explain yourself, darling. I know you’ve been run ragged trying to get everything sorted in the shop for the holidays. Me and Fred can’t thank you enough for that, and I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He paused, he seemed to mull over his words before he took a breath. “Does this have anything to do with Sirius, (Y/N)? I promise you can tell me.”

  You shook your head and smiled. You weren’t lying to George, at least not completely. You did truly want to sleep in your own bed, although the flat was cramped; you had made it home.   “No love, I just want to go home. You stay here with Fred and everyone, I’ll meet you at the shop in the morning and we can have a late breakfast?” He seemed placated by that and offered a genuine smile.   “Definitely, maybe we could go into London and do a bit of Christmas shopping?”   “Sounds perfect, George.”   “Are you going to apparate straight to the flat?” He asked as you made your way from the attic and down the rickety stairs.   “I think I’ll pop into The Leaky Cauldron first, have a drink. I’ll see if I can convince Tom to let me take a bottle or two back to the flat for us.”   “Are you leaving, dear?” Molly’s voice carried over the cacophony of sounds as you arrived outside the kitchen. George offered your coat to you and held it as you slipped your arms into the sleeves. You nodded and accepted the warm hug she offered you, and revelled84 in the motherly affection.   “Yeah, I’m going home, see if I can get a decent night’s sleep for once without this one stealing all the covers.” You elbowed George in the ribs, and he rolled his eyes. George slung an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in close to his chest. Molly smiled at the pair of you, she took your hand in hers and gave it a squeeze.   “Are you still coming to the train station in the morning?” She asked. You nodded again and Molly beamed.   “We were just talking about going to do a bit of Christmas shopping after we’ve been to Kings Cross, as Fred’s in the shop. Would you like to come with us, Molly?”   “Oh no no, the way things are at the minute you two need to take full advantage of any and all moments you get together. Especially in that tiny flat of yours.” You nodded in agreement and made your way to the door, a figure stood out from behind the door to the sitting room, stopping you in your tracks.

  “Are you off, (Y/N)?” Sirius said blankly, his grey eyes bore into yours with an unsaid intensity.   “I am, thank you Sirius.” You refused to lower your gaze as the older man regarded you, you could see the corner of his lip quiver slightly almost upturning into a smirk. George appeared by your side and looked between you and Sirius; he cleared his throat.   “Right love, I’ll see you at the shop in the morning.” George said, his gave you a chaste kiss on the lips and opened the heavy door, waving at you until you reached the designated apparition point.  

************

The Leaky Cauldron was filled wall to wall with people as you stepped through the door. You were pleased to be out of the December chill, your hands already red with cold from your short walk. You scoured the crowd for a path to the bar and deftly avoided a few rogue elbows and spilled pints, as you fought your way through the throng of people and placing your order with a round-faced witch. You paid for your glass of wine and with a smile told her to keep the few sickles change. You found yourself smiling as you nestled yourself into a corner, the red wine was cheap and tasted tangy as you swallowed a big mouthful; but the warm glow you felt in your chest was welcome. It was nice to see the pub so full all things considered, there had been massive backlash towards the Ministry in their handling of the Dark Lord’s return and you wondered whether this threat would stop people going out and enjoying their lives, tonight, it appeared not.   “’Ello love, are you ‘ere by yourself?” You looked over your shoulder to see a portly man with a wide smile and flushed cheeks, his broad cockney accent was almost jarring. You managed to stop yourself rolling your eyes and offered him a curt smile. He smelled like he hadn’t bathed in days and a thick layer of dirt graced his face.   “No, I’m just waiting for someone.” You lied, you hoped that would be the end of the conversation, that he would take the hint and leave you to your wine. You just wanted a moment to yourself, to not have to think about the shop or the ever-impending threat of a potential Death Eater attack. You hadn’t really had a moment alone since you arrived at The Burrow all those months ago, you had left all remnants of your former life at Malfoy Manor and thrown yourself head first into anything to take your mind off what happened there. You hadn’t received a word from your parents, you didn’t expect to really, but that chance meeting you and George had had with Mr. Paris in a muggle restaurant was enough to make you shudder. You wondered if the Healers at St. Mungo’s had managed to get Mr. Paris’ two front teeth to grow back after George had punched them out of his head. Needless to say, that was a lovely restaurant that you were no longer welcome at.   “Me too. D’you want to wait together?” You had almost forgotten the stout man on your side, but his misguided determination in obtaining your attention was began to grate on you. He smiled a toothy grin and then coughed deeply, the teeth that remained in his mouth were yellow and as he coughed, he produced a stained handkerchief from his pocket and covered his mouth. You noticed the gold rings that adorned each finger of his hand, some of them looked to be encrusted with precious stones, but you doubted that very much. As his cough subsided, he cleared his throat and shoved the handkerchief back into his pocket. He looked at you expectantly.   “No thank you, I’m sure they’ll be here any second now.” You lied again, you craned your neck in search for absolutely nobody and leaned up onto the balls of your feet. The man next to you followed suit, he tapped your arm.   “Is he over there? There’s a man coming down the stairs waving at you.” The man pointed across the room where sure enough the bottom of an old staircase was in view, and a man in the distance dressed in black held your gaze as he descended.   “Yes, that’s him! Thank you.” You said excitedly to the short man, you heard him chuntering behind you as once again you elbowed your way through the crowd, careful not to spill any of your wine. You smiled widely as you approached him.   “Professor!” You gushed, “How are you? It’s so nice to see you!” Professor Snape’s usually hard exterior softened as he regarded you, he offered his arm to you and you took it. He nestled your hand in the crook of his elbow and hastened away from the pulsing body of people.   “Miss (Y/L/N), you should not be here. It’s not safe.” Professor Snape whispered, he looked over his shoulder and you followed his gaze. You felt your body stiffen as you watched in detestation as Narcissa Malfoy approached where you stood, her repulsive husband quick on her heels.

  She was quick to disguise her shock as she saw you, Lucius merely sneered as he clasped Professor Snape on the shoulder and flounced away in a flurry of black cloth. Narcissa’s almost stoic expression faltered as you watched Lucius exit the pub, your eyes found hers as she frowned.   “Hello,” She said quietly, you stared back at her with a stony expression. You almost respected the nerve of the woman to talk to you after everything you endured at her house over the summer, you didn’t blink, you didn’t move.   “Goodnight, Narcissa. Merry Christmas.” Professor Snape said after a while, she broke her stare and nodded. She kissed Professor Snape on the cheek and made her way to the doors of the pub, you watched as she cast a look over her shoulder to you and with an obvious smile, she left.   “Come,” Professor Snape said gruffly, “Take my arm I shall apparate you home.”   “I only live up the road, Professor. I’ll walk.”   “Very well, I shall escort you.”

You walked in near silence with Professor Snape the short walk to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, you watched in amusement as the serious potions master gazed up at the giant automation head placed on the exterior of the shop removed his hat and positioned it back on his head in the dim light of Diagon Alley.   “Not ones for subtlety are they, the Weasley twins?” Professor Snape smirked; you shook your head with a chuckle.   “No, I can’t say they are.”   “Is this where you live?” He asked, you nodded and produced your wand from your bag.   “We live upstairs, the three of us.”   “Three?”   “Yeah, me, Fred and George. It’s…cosy.” Professor Snape hummed in agreement and took a step back.   “Professor?” You asked, he looked expectantly at you and you bit your lip. “I never got a chance to thank you for what you did for me at Malfoy Manor. I cannot ever repay you for your kindness, I am in your debt.” Professor Snape scowled at your emotion and took another step back.   “I was instructed to help you, Miss (Y/L/N). I did only as I was told to do.” He said somewhat unconvincingly, he averted his gaze and made to walk away. Instinctively, you reached your hand out and caught his sleeve.   “That may be the case Professor, but still, thank you.” You looked earnestly to his pale face; he shoulders slumped slightly.   “After I had received word as to what that oaf Paris had done…I did what I thought was right.” He stated, there was no over-sentimentality to his tone, like he was reading a shopping list. You decided not to press the matter further and turned toward the door to the shop.   “Professor,” You asked again, his eye roll was detectable regardless of the few feet of distance between you.   “What?” He snapped, his foot tapped impatiently on the cobbled stones.   “Why are you here? Term doesn’t finish until tomorrow. That’s not to say I’m not happy to see you, of course I-”   “I was unaware I had to run my schedule through you, Miss (Y/L/N).” Professor Snape quipped, if he tried to disguise the annoyance in his tone- he had done an extremely poor job of it.   “Of course, sorry.”   “If you must know, I arrived this afternoon. I had…business in London. Now go on, there’s only so much of your company I can stomach at one time.” You expected he was only being half serious, as his black eyes betrayed a slight softness and you smiled gently.   “Goodnight Professor, thank you for making sure I got home safely.”   “I’ll watch you inside.”

*************

  “What do you think of this, Gin?” You held up a sparkly silver top to your chest and waited for Ginny’s verdict. Ginny turned to you with wide eyes, her expression frazzled.   “No, I preferred the second one.” She thrust a red velvet dress into your hands as she frantically searched the racks of clothes for the perfect Christmas dress.   “Where’s Hermione?” You enquired, you looked over your shoulder to where George, Ron and Harry all stood by the changing rooms, their arms heavy with shopping bags. You gave George a stiff smile, dismayed when he rolled his eyes and looked away. He had been acting strangely with you all morning since you met at the shop. He had barley said two words to you until everyone had stepped off the train. You were grateful that Ginny said she needed to do some shopping and the boys had decided to tag along. In truth, George was getting on your nerves. You could tell there was something bothering him and yet, every time you asked him about it- he refused to say. Eventually, you gave up asking.   “She’s at her parents’ for Christmas this year. She’s fallen out with Ron.” Ginny replied disinterestedly as she held up a green Bardot-necked jumper dress, “What do you reckon?”   “With your hair? Stunning.” You said with a smile. Ginny breathed a sigh of relief as she folded the dress over her arm and stepped passed you towards the till. You managed to grab the dress from her and slot it over yours.   “(Y/N) what are you doing?” Ginny said as she tried to grab her dress.   “Let me get your dress Ginny, as a Christmas present.” You pleaded, she deliberated for a moment before conceding and following you to the till.   “At least let me do something for you, (Y/N).” Ginny said as she passed Ron her newest bag. He took it without thinking and then screwed up his face and passed it to Harry.   “Tell you what, why don’t you come to the flat this week and we can have a girl’s night? I’m sure the boys can make themselves scarce for an evening, couldn’t you George?” George scoffed, you slipped your arm through his and he withdrew from you, putting his hand in his pocket;   “I’m not being chased out of my own flat by my sister. Are you lot going to Floo to mums from mine?” “Yeah, might as well. It’s only round the corner, isn’t it?” Harry agreed.

  You continued your way to Diagon Alley and through the buzz of the busy joke shop, you attempted to follow Ginny up the back stairs to your flat but realised George wasn’t behind you. Instead he was deep in conversation with a frantic looking Fred who was gesticulating wildly. Good, let Fred have a taste of what you’d received from George all day. You knew better than to get involved between the pair and arrived in to the flat just as Ron disappeared into the fireplace.   “See you!” You waved as he vanished in a ripple of green flames. Harry smiled and waved as he took Ron’s previously occupied place in the fireplace and followed suit to The Burrow. As he departed, Ginny stepped toward you and enveloped you in a hug.     “I’ll owl you about this week?”   “Definitely,” You answered, “We’ll get it sorted.” You watched as Ginny entered the fireplace and disappeared. Just as the flames died, the door of your flat swung open and George entered, slamming it shut behind him.   “Woah, what’s up?”   “Fucking Fred, he couldn’t organise a piss up in a brewery.” George muttered, he threw the shopping bags forcefully onto the floor and launched himself at the sofa, burying his head into the cushions.   “Bloody hell George, do you want to be a bit more dramatic?” You scowled and stalked over to the discarded shopping bags and picked them up, carefully checking to see if anything was broken. You took them into the small kitchen they weighed a tonne. You just about managed to hoist the bags onto the worktop and sighed from the exertion.  You were pleased with yourself, you had managed to find a few absolute bargains in London today which seldom never happened near Christmas. You had managed to buy nearly everything on your Christmas list; new baubles for the Christmas tree were the only thing left to buy. You had vehemently refused to let Fred design your Christmas decorations and instead saved the money you had earned from working in the shop to decorate the flat to your specific Christmas standards. You balled the carrier bags up and opened up a cupboard and shoved them deep inside as you placed the contents of the bags to display to George.   “George, come and have a look at what I’ve got today. Just the last few bits n-”    “And how much did this all cost?” He demanded; George; who was now stood hovering over your shopping looked furious as you jumped. You shook your head in shock, George had never spoken to you like that and you weren’t going to take it from him now.   “It’s Christmas, George. You buy presents for people at Christmas.”   “That’s all well and good when it’s not your money you’re spending.” George spat; your jaw dropped open for a split second before your face darkened.   “Are you taking the piss? You think I’ve been spending your money?”   “Well I don’t remember the last time you went to Gringotts, seeing as we do everything together.” He sneered and placed his hands on his hips. You offered him a sneer of your own.   “What is wrong with you? You’ve been awful all day.” You said, you moved across the tiny kitchen to where he stood.   “Merlin (Y/N), can’t I just be pissed off at you spending all the money? We don’t have much and between you and Fred we’re going to be out on our arses before New Year.” George’s voice was low and filled with spite. It took you by surprise, your normally lovely, cheerful boyfriend was replaced by this poison spitting man.   “Well I’ll tell you what George, you can take all this stuff that I’ve bought for your family with my money back to the shops and I’ll just fuck off, shall I?”   “If you wouldn’t mind.”

  You didn’t need to be told twice. You pushed past a seething George towards your bedroom and pointed your wand at your wardrobe and levitated your clothes into an open and waiting suitcase. It took longer than expected for George to appear in the doorway, but he did; arms folded across his chest. You were too angry to be upset, in that moment pure fury coursed through your veins as George’s accusations reverberated around your mind. How dare he talk to you like that? When your suitcase was packed, you locked it with a swish of your wand and pushed past George again, your shoulder made contact with his chest, but he didn’t flinch.   “Where are you going?” He asked with a bite in his tone.   “I don’t know. I’m fucking off, aren’t I?”   “Going to meet Snape again?” You were shocked at that. You turned slowly; George’s face was as red as his hair as he met your eyes slowly.   “Excuse me?”   “That’s where you went last night wasn’t it? You went to meet up with Snape.” Your brow furrowed as you tried to process what George was saying, he didn’t give you a chance to respond. “You were seen leaving the pub together looking very chummy, (Y/N).”   “I bumped into him in the pub and he walked me home.”   “Convenient.” George muttered.   “Why are you being a dick?” You demanded, your heartbeat pounded in your ears and your hand shook with rage.   “Why were you so desperate to leave Grimmauld Place?” He stepped closer to you, almost closing the distance. The heat radiated from him in waves, what was normally so intoxicating to you, you now found infuriating.   “I told you, I was tired and I wanted to be at home. Why would I want to stick around somewhere where I’m not wanted, George?”   “You have to understand how it looks (Y/N). You, leaving Order headquarters to go and meet up with Severus Snape.”   “Are you accusing me of being a Death Eater now?”   “Are you saying Snape’s a Death Eater?”   “No!”

George panted as he regarded you, his eyes wild. You could see the cogs of his brain ticking as he watched you.   “Then why were you with him?” He asked quietly. Your hands trembled with rage as you tried to calm yourself.   “I told you, he walked me home. Were you spying on me?” Your hand tensed around the handle of your suitcase, he said you were seen. Seen by who?   “Don’t need to, it’s not like nobody knows who you are.”   “What does that even mean? George, you’re not making any sense!” You exclaimed, you hated this. You wanted it to be over, you wanted to crawl into bed and never come out.   “Are you fucking him?” George eventually asked, his eyes narrowed into slits as he awaited your response. Unfortunately, he wasn’t to receive one.  

  You didn’t know where you were going. You couldn’t go back to The Burrow, not after the argument. The thought of having to explain to Molly what George had said to you made you feel sick. She had been so kind to you, and if George suspected you of foul play, it was almost certain that Molly already knew. You couldn’t go back to Grimmauld Place either, you weren’t sure if there would be any members of the Order there; and potentially being alone with Sirius was absolutely out of the question. You walked solemnly along the cobbled road away from the shop, your suitcase squeaked as it rolled across the uneven stones; the only sound in the eerily quiet of the early evening. You still hadn’t formulated a plan, not even when you ordered a coffee and tucked yourself away in a corner of The Leaky Cauldron. You knew Professor Snape had warned you against being there, but it was the only place you could feasibly go. You half hoped George would have followed you; that he would appear looking very ashamed and apologise for his words. But alas, as the night grew darker and more and more people arrived into the pub, it became painfully clear that he wasn’t coming. You were alone.

  You spied Tom talking to the witch who had served you the night before, she was beaming as she joked with her boss. She had such a kind face, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you watched her engage a few patrons in raucous conversation. She clearly enjoyed the attention; she threw her head back in laughter as though she didn’t have a care in the world. That must be nice. You stood and cast a sticking charm to your suitcase, ensuring it wouldn’t be stolen or tampered with and made your way to the bar. The young witch smiled brightly as you approached, her hand already extended for your empty coffee mug.   “Would you like another?” She asked, you shook your head as you tentatively placed your hands on the bar top. You instantly regretted it as, as soon as your hands touched the marked wood, they became incredibly sticky.   “No thank you, I am wondering whether you have any rooms available, though?” You asked as nonchalantly as you could, the young witch nodded.   “I’ll just go and check with Tom.” She disappeared through a door behind the bar and you stood patiently and waited, you glanced over your shoulder to where you had left your suitcase and saw the portly man from the night before eying it suspiciously. You watched him as he gave your suitcase a sly kick, and when he noticed it didn’t move an inch, tried an even more forceful one. You arched an eyebrow as his shoulders slumped in defeat.   “’Ello deary!” He called as he noticed you watching him. “Knew I’d bump into you again. Mundungus Fletcher.” He leaned forward and extended his hand to you and you shook it. You watched with delight as the man pulled his now sticky hand away and wiped it unsuccessfully on his pinstriped trousers. “’Ave to say, I was surprised to see a pretty young fing like you making off wiv Severus Snape last night. Never knew the old sod ‘ad it in ‘im!” You fought the scathing retort that threatened to fall off your tongue at the second insinuation of a sexual relationship with Professor Snape you had received within a few hours. You looked indignantly at Mundungus who snapped his fingers at the kind witch behind the bar. She rolled her eyes to you and began to serve him, as Tom followed slowly and approached you with an apologetic look.   “Are you after a room, miss?” He asked.   “Yes, anything you have is fine. It’s only for me.” You answered hurriedly, you produced your purse from the pocket of your coat and set it on the bar top.   “That’s just the thing miss, all our single rooms have gone what with it being so close to Christmas. The only thing I’ve got left it the Merlin Room. And it’s Fifty Galleons a night I’m afraid.” Fucking hell, that was a lot of money. Certainly, more than what you had in your purse. You chewed your lip as you opened up the black leather purse and scooped out the golden coins and placed them in Tom’s waiting hand.   “That should be Thirty there Tom, you keep hold of that and I’ll run to Gringotts for the rest now.”   “’Ow much is it, girl?” Mundungus called from your side.   “We’re short Twenty Galleons.” Tom answered plainly, his hand still outstretched. Mundungus reached deep into the pockets of his pinstripes and produced a load of gold pieces.   “Is tha’ enough, mate?” Mundungus replied, he dropped the coins into Tom’s hand before you could protest. You looked bewilderedly from the innkeeper to the grubby man, Tom closed his had around the coins like a Venus fly-trap around a fly and smiled.   “I’ll just fetch you the key, miss.”

  Your cheeks were hot as you turned to Mundungus, it was made all the worse when you realised how bloody pleased he seemed with himself.   “Thank you.” You managed curtly, “I was more than capable of walking to the bank and back though, Mr. Fletcher.”   “Jus’ fink of it as a bit’a human kindness. Remember it next time you see someone in a bind.”   “You don’t even know me. I could be anyone.” You replied, you were becoming increasingly annoyed by this man’s insistence in intruding in your life.   “That’s where you’re wrong miss, I knows all abou’ you.” He smiled what was probably intended as a sweet smile, but it sent a shiver down your spine; he was menacing, this man. You didn’t like being in his debt. “The banks’ closed now anyway.” He sniffed.   “Forgive me, Mr. Fletcher,” You began carefully, “I simply cannot allow myself to be in debt to you. Please let me pay you back immediately.” You waited for him to reply, your breath was coming short and you felt wildly out of your depth. You had seen both of your parents give people verbal lashings and negotiate alike, they made it seem so easy. You yourself had never been afraid of confrontation, but you were theirs then; you were known. You had the protection of your ancient family name- now, you were nobody. That frightened you. Mundungus laughed quietly, he brought his hand to his mouth as his laughter turned into a chesty cough. The stones in his rings glistened in the lamplight, his handkerchief even more stained than yesterday. He sighed when his cough stopped, a great, whisky scented sigh that permeated around your face. It took everything within your power to not wretch.   “’Fing is miss, I’m not sure you can give me what I’m after.” He said with a sneer, you outwardly cringed. His eyes travelled the length of you, glancing twice at your bosom. You fought the bile that rose in your throat.   “And what is it, that you’re after exactly, Mr. Fletcher?” You asked through gritted teeth. You watched as Mundungus sighed and leant casually against the bar. He looked over both shoulders before he leaned in to you, his face inches from yours.   “Information.” He breathed with his whisky breath; you couldn’t help but flinch.   “Information?” You repeated, Mundungus nodded. “What kind of information?”   “Y’see, I am a salesman as well as a collector, miss. I sells what I collects, and I collects what I sells. And wha’ I’m wanting to sell now, is your privacy, miss.” He whispered; his face even closer to you. You could feel his vile breath on your face as your eyes widened in shock.   “Goodnight, Mr. Fletcher.” You whispered as your face paled, you tried to move past him, but Mundungus caught hold of your sleeve and pulled your back flush to his torso.   “No, no no.” He muttered. “I knows who you are, miss. I knows all about you, I even knows your boyfriend, miss! One of those Weasley boys, ain’t it? One of those twins, I’m sure.” You whimpered as Mundungus fiddled with the hair at the nape of your neck.   “I don’t know what you’re talking about, please let me go.” You felt tears sting your eyes as Mundungus’ hold on you relaxed slightly. You lurched forward away from him in time to see Tom walk around the bar, room key in hand, a concerned look on his face.

  “Everything alright, miss?” Tom asked, he looked between you and Mundungus. Mundungus gestured to you and you nodded with a strained smile, Tom dropped the key into your hand and turned back the way he came. You made to follow him but Mundungus was quicker on his feet than you had anticipated, his hand on your shoulder in an instant. You desperately tried to think what exactly he was trying to extract from you.   “Now ‘ush miss, I don’t want no fuss.” Mundungus breathed, he patted your shoulder awkwardly and you trembled beneath him. “I’ll strike a deal wiv ya, ‘ow does that sound?”   “A deal? What kind of deal?”   “Good girl.” He smiled his yellow smile and gestured to the table where your almost forgotten suitcase still sat, stuck to the floor.   “You said you’ve got money?” Mundungus mused as he sat across from you, wand stealthily pointed at you from his sleeve. “’Ow much you talkin’?”   “About three hundred Galleons. In my savings.” You lied, there was about three hundred Galleons in the Gringotts vault you shared with George; but you still had access to your parents’ vault. You initially refused to take any money from it, but surely, they would have instructed the goblins to remove your access if they didn’t want you to use it. Besides, there was thousands upon thousands of Galleons in there. But Mundungus didn’t have to know that. You could see his face fall as he mulled over your words.   “Hmm. Right. Tell you wha’, I’m feeling nice tonight. You meet me ‘ere again tomorrow night, same time and bring me one-hundred-and-fifty Galleons. Wha’ I paid for you tonight, plus a little extra- for my trouble, and I won’t tell your boyfriend tha’ your fancy man is waiting for you over there.” Mundungus pointed towards the other side of the pub and as you searched through the crowd you saw him, Professor Snape sat silently by himself; his eyes burned into yours. Your cheeks flushed scarlet.   “Mr. Fletcher. Don’t be vile, Professor Snape and I don’t have any kind of relationship other than a strictly platonic one.”   “Tha’ don’t matter. One-hundred-and-fifty Galleons.”   “You’re trying to blackmail me. Why?” You demanded, you willed your voice not to betray your weakening resolve.   “A mans got to eat, miss. It is nearly Christmas after all.” Mundungus said cheerfully.   “But I haven’t done anything wrong.” You pleaded, desperate to understand what was happening, it seemed like a lifetime since you left the flat. You wondered if George was worried.   “You try tellin’ your fella that after I tell ‘im I seen you two nights in a row, up close and personal wiv Professor Snape.” He said with a shrug, so fucking nonchalant. “You might not know this about me, miss. But I’ve known Weasley’s for years, we go way back. They ‘ave no reason not to believe me. And I know wha’ I saw last night.”   “You didn’t see anything, you loathsome twit. Why would you interfere in my life like that?” You snapped; you were angry now you knew you weren’t in any immediate danger. He didn’t appear so frightening from the other side of the table, especially now you knew you were being watched. The horrid man didn’t even blink.   “People talk. One-hundred-and-fifty Galleons.” Mundungus repeated, “Or I go I straight to Grimmauld Place right now and see who’s in. And you’d still owe me Twenty Galleons plus interest.” He offered you another grim smile as he pulled out his rotten handkerchief to dab at his brow. All this blackmail must be hard work for him. “’Fink of it as givin’ to the less fortunate at Christmas.”  “You’re vile.”   “One-hundred-and-fifty Galleons.”

  You nodded grimly at the repulsive man and stood slowly, you made your way across the busy room, suitcase in one hand and room key in the other. You slowed and stopped just parallel to where Professor Snape sat.   “I need to talk to you.” You muttered quietly, not looking in the potions master’s direction. “Not here.”   “Where?” He answered, his voice low and his attention seemingly elsewhere. You dropped your room key on the floor and as you bent to pick it up, you flashed the number in his direction. He gave a short, sharp nod and you walked away hurriedly, up the creaking staircase to your room.

******

  The room was to be expected. It was nicer than most of the rooms The Leaky Cauldron boasted, but still nothing compared to the luxuries you were used to. The bed at least, was large and there was a big-ish wardrobe. Nowhere worth the Fifty Galleons you had paid to stay though, you wished wholeheartedly that you hadn’t walked out of the flat. You wished you had just stayed at Grimmauld Place that night, none of this would have happened if you had. You tried to be angry at George, you just didn’t have it in you anymore. You even tried to be angry at Sirius for not trusting you, for making you feel so uncomfortable. It wasn’t any use, any resentment you harboured for Sirius Black had been shifted onto the revolting creature that was Mundungus Fletcher.

   You washed yourself thoroughly in the tiny shower of the Merlin Room, anxious to get any whisper of that horrid man from your skin. You couldn’t wrap your head around how anybody could be so cruel, the only saving grace about the whole situation was that you finally knew how George had grown to be suspicious of you. If what Mundungus said was true, then he intercepted George that morning before you had met him and spilled poisoned seeds into the ear of your beloved with the intent of blackmailing you. What a hateful snake. But, on the other hand, you were disheartened at the thought of how quick George was to believe the tales of your supposed infidelity. With Professor Snape of all people, you couldn’t help but laugh sardonically at the idea that of all the men in the world, George thought the obvious choice for your unfaithfulness was Severus fucking Snape.

  You dressed quickly into your night clothes and pointed your wand at your hair, it dried instantly, and you tried to relax. You poured a large glass of wine from the bottle that sat invitingly on the bedside table. It was nicer than the wine they served behind the bar downstairs, and you welcomed it as it warmed you from your toes up. Your stomach rumbled, you hadn’t eaten anything since that morning and you began to feel fatigued, the effects of the day catching up with you. You wondered how long Professor Snape would make you wait; would he wait until everybody else left before creeping up the stairs to your room? It sounded so sordid, you thought. He certainly had to wait for Mundungus to leave before he made his move, else you would no doubt find yourself with an even bigger debt to settle. Merlin, you thought, if he were to wait for Mundungus to leave, you’ll be sat waiting until New Years Eve. You tried to busy yourself by searching the room, it was warmer than it looked. The stone walls projected an almost medieval atmosphere, but with the fire burning contentedly, you were satisfied that it could be considered quite cosy. The curtains were almost as moth-eaten as the ones in Grimmauld Place and nearly as old too, and you felt as uneasy in the room as you did in Grimmauld Place.

  It wasn’t long after you had settled sat on the bed was there a knock on the door. You scurried to it and opened it slightly, a sliver of light from the hallway encroached into your room and framed Professor Snape’s dark head as you granted him admittance. He closed the door swiftly behind him, but remained stood awkwardly, not quite able to meet your gaze. Instead, you pulled up two chairs by the fireplace. The wooden legs of the chairs scraped uneasily across the stone floor, but you persevered and gestured for your old professor to sit. You grabbed your wine and poured another into a glass for Professor Snape which he accepted tentatively.   “Thank you for coming.” You began as you sat in the chair opposite his, you tucked your legs under you in an attempt to be comfortable. It earned an arched eyebrow from Professor Snape.   “What did you want to talk about?” Professor Snape said, not wasting any time. You cleared your throat and took another sip of wine and your stomach grumbled again in protest; you ignored it.   “I’m being blackmailed by Mundungus Fletcher.” You replied plainly, no need to beat around the bush.  “Ah,” said Professor Snape, he brought his wine glass to lips and drank slowly. “I see. How much?”  “One-hundred-and-fifty Galleons.”   “Do you have it?” He asked, you nodded quickly. “Then I don’t see the issue.”   “The issue is that this concerns you, as well Professor.” You said quietly, your cheeks felt warm as his gaze scrutinised you. It was like being back at school.   “Please enlighten me, Miss (Y/L/N).”   “Mundungus Fletcher has told George that he suspects I’m having an affair, sir. He has told me to pay him the money by tomorrow evening, or he will tell George that what he suspects is true, that he’s seen it with his own eyes. The affair is supposedly with you, sir.” You winced and waited for Professor Snape to say something, anything; but he didn’t. He sat there, an ashen look on his already pale face as he took another tender sip of his wine.   “I shouldn’t be here.” Professor Snape stated finally, he wasn’t asking. You couldn’t help but nod, he was right. Under the circumstances, he absolutely shouldn’t be here, no matter how innocuous the meeting.   “Perhaps not,” You said quietly, “I don’t know what to do.”   “Well you’re certainly not going to pay the little cretin, that’s for sure,” Professor Snape said with a frown, “Allow me to deal with Mundungus.” Professor Snape titled his wine glass almost vertically as he drained what was left in his glass, you raised your eyebrows at his show but kept your mouth closed. Professor Snape stood and in two swift movements had opened the door and turned to you with a dark look.   “I shall return.” And with that, he closed the door behind him, in the near silence of your room you could still hear his footsteps on the stone floor as he walked away. You mulled over your situation for a few moments, swirling the contents of your glass sullenly. You were sick to the back teeth of being a hapless damsel in distress, yes, you had endured some questionable fates in your short adulthood; but this one seemed to border on the ridiculous. You hadn’t done anything wrong, not a single thing and yet you sat in a lonely room feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt. Why? Why when you had no idea there were men as repugnant as Mundungus Fletcher out there who would create fantasies and try and profit from them? No more, you thought. Not this time.

  You stood quickly and instantly regretted the decision, your glass of wine had gone straight to your head on account of your empty stomach. You blinked and tried to refocus your vision, when you were satisfied you made your way to the wardrobe. Grasping your heavy winter cloak, you draped it around your shoulders and pulled the hood over your head covering your face, and made your way quietly out of the room. You had no idea what time it was, the pub was full now as you came down the stairs. A few patrons looked over in your direction as you weaved through the crowd, looking for any sign of Professor Snape or Mundungus Fletcher. There was none, you scoured every corner and came up short. You cursed under your breath and exited the pub; the wind whipped around your body and caused your hair to stand on end as you looked out into the near empty street now pitch black. There was a scuffling sound to your left, and then a crash as if something large and metal had been dropped.  You retrieved your wand and cast a nonverbal Lumos and followed the sound, you walked apprehensively down the alleyway behind The Leaky Cauldron, even with the light emanating from your wand, there was still much you couldn’t see. Wasn’t there an old adage about young witches walking down alleyways alone at night? You tried to push such thoughts from your mind as the sounds of scuffling increased, joined by hushed voices. You rounded a sharp corner into an even darker part of the alley, like a labyrinth of brick and mortar.   “Nox.” You whispered, you lowered your wand but your grip around it tightened, ready for whatever you might meet.

  “You disgusting, verminous cur-” You heard a deep voice, a snarl more than anything else. You continued your pursuit of the commotion and nearly gasped when you saw Professor Snape with his hand around Mundungus’ throat, his other hand pressed his wand into Mundungus’ cheek. You tried to make your body flush with the wall, trying desperately to disappear into the darkness. The sounds of Mundungus’ struggle were palpable now as you tried to steady your breathing.   “S-Sev..erus! Come on mate, let me go!” Mundungus managed, his hand splayed against the cold brick and Professor Snape pressed harder into Mundungus’ face with his wand. Mundungus spluttered in fear and Professor Snape growled and lowered his face close to Mundungus’ ear and you stepped forward slightly so as not to miss anything that was said.   “Did you think you could get away with intimidating a young woman?” Professor Snape spat, “Not only that, a Slytherin born into one of the oldest families in Britain?” He paused and Mundungus flinched, you wondered if Professor Snape had tightened his hold of Mundungus’ throat as a line of spittle had appeared at the corner of his mouth. “I would like to believe you are not that dense, Mundungus, and yet here we are.”   “I saw an…opportunity Severus…you knows wha’ it’s like,” Mundungus struggled to get his words out, his voice was thin with strain. “She’s got loads’a money, she won’ miss a’undred or so Galleons!”   “That may be true, but you have no right to play with the poor girl. And how much were you going to charge her tomorrow as interest for your silence?” Mundungus was quiet then as Professor Snape finished speaking. The bastard! Hatred began to build within you as you watched Mundungus try to nod.   “Alrigh’, Severus. Please.”

  Professor Snape removed his hand slowly from Mundungus’ throat and took a step back, his wand still aimed directly at Mundungus’ face. Mundungus bent over and coughed, he rubbed his neck and breathed deeply.   “Come.” Professor Snape snapped, he prodded his wand against Mundungus’ shoulder and pointed down the alleyway, in the direction where you stood.   “Fucks sake, Severus. Where are we going?” Mundungus whined. Professor Snape snarled and resumed his close proximity to the stout man.   “We’re going to pay the Weasley’s a visit, you and me.” He snarled and panic flashed across Mundungus’ face.   “Wha’? Now?” Mundungus asked incredulously, “It’s the middle of the nigh’!”   “Precisely, it should all be fresh in your mind shouldn’t it?” Mundungus sighed and straightened his moth-eaten jacket.   “She still owes me Twenty Galleons for the room though.” The dirty man stated indignantly, Severus snarled, and, in a flash, his dark clothed arm swung, and the clatter of coins echoed across the alley. Mundungus scrabbled to the floor to retrieve the coins and Professor Snape laughed without humour.   “Here.” He ordered and Mundungus flitted to your professor’s side submissively. He took hold of Mundungus’ arm and apparated out of the alley.

  You exhaled sharply and pulled your hood back from your face. Could it be that easy, really? In a matter of minutes Professor Snape had once again come to your aid with no talk of thanks, and it troubled you. You walked slowly back to The Leaky Cauldron and sluggishly made your way back to your room.

**********

  You hadn’t realised you had fallen asleep until a faint knock on the door woke you. You opened your bleary eyes and ran a hand across them, yawning widely as you opened the door. A rather tired looking Professor Snape stood before you, arms folded, and a scowl adorned his face.   “I’ve been knocking for what felt like years.” He said grumpily as he followed you into the room. You yawned again and sat in the armchair you had previously occupied earlier in the evening, Professor Snape followed suit.   “Sorry, I must have dozed off.” You said quietly, you were suddenly extremely anxious to find out what Professor Snape had to say. Rather than reporting to you what transpired in the hours he had been gone; he closed his eyes. You stared rather dumbfounded as his hands that he had clasped in his lap fell apart. Was he asleep? Of all the fucking ways you thought your day was going to go, staying in The Leaky Cauldron with Professor Snape asleep in your armchair was definitely not in the top one hundred. You chewed your lip deliberating what to do. Realistically, you should wake him. He would be mortified when he awoke to find he had fallen asleep in your room, but there was something in the peaceful rising and falling of his chest that stopped you. You hadn’t really looked at him before then, but you noticed the dark circles around his eyes and how gaunt his face looked. Yes, he was always bony but at that moment in time, he looked ill. You sighed and fetched your cloak which still held the chill from your excursion outside and pulled it over Professor Snape and tucked it under his chin.

  You climbed uneasily into bed and pulled the cover tight to your chest, willing sleep to come. Professor Snape snored lightly in his chair and you covered your mouth to suppress the giggle that threatened to escape. This bordered on some of the more absurd things that had happened to you and you lamented as to how you had reached this point. You must have stared at the ceiling for hours, at least it felt like hours, birds chirped happily outside of the window and finally, you felt your eyelids become heavy.

  When you awoke, the room was full of light. The curtains were drawn back and the fire roared in its place.   “Good morning.” At the sound of Professor Snape’s voice you almost jumped out of your skin, your heart thundered against your chest and you flung your hands over your eyes. He was stood behind the chair he had fallen asleep in, but the small table was filled with food.   “Fuck!” You exclaimed as you clutched your chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”   “Yes, I have that effect on people.” Professor Snape mused, a small smirk on his face. You stared at him for a moment, just a fleeting moment, a smile crept to your lips.   “Sleep well?” You asked, feeling instantly full of glee as a tiny blush inched over Professor Snape’s cheeks. He averted his gaze and gestured to the table laden with pastries and meats, but most importantly, coffee. You stomach betrayed your hunger as a mortifyingly loud rumble echoed throughout the room. You groaned and got out of bed; the cold floor made your feet tingle as you padded over to the table. You shoved half a croissant into your mouth and moaned as the buttery, flaky goodness melted there. Professor Snape cleared his throat. You shot him an apologetic look and continued devouring the treat. Picking up a mug of piping hot coffee you sat in the armchair and hooked your legs underneath you. Professor Snape joined you with a mug of his own and took a great gulp, sighing as he rested the mug on his thigh.   “I didn’t know they did breakfast here.” You said after a brief silence, the coffee was delicious, strong and sweet; exactly the way you liked it.   “They don’t, I went home when I woke up this morning and brought this here.” He said as he stared intently into the fire.   “You made me breakfast?” You enquired, rather taken aback at this act of kindness.   “I made myself breakfast, I just happened to make enough for you as well.” He said flatly, you rolled your eyes into your coffee but decided not to press the matter further. “I spoke to George last night.” Your ears pricked at the mention of George, you sat up straight eager for Professor Snape to continue. “Well, I should say Mundungus spoke to George last night. I was simply there to…supervise.” A sly smile tugged at his lips as he drank again from his mug.   “And?” You pressed, you wished you could have been there to see what happened. How George reacted, what he would have thought to Mundungus and Severus Snape knocking at his door at Merlin-knows what time. “Was he at the flat?” You asked.   “No, he has joined his family at The Burrow. We went to Grimmauld Place first and Shacklebolt told me where he was.”

  George had gone to The Burrow? Probably to tell his family all about your fight. Your stomach turned at the memory of how you had spoken to each other, of how he had doubted you.   “Needless to say, everything has been thoroughly put right. Mundungus Fletcher won’t be bothering you again.” He continued. You sighed a breath of relief, it was sorted. Everything was sorted. But why didn’t you feel better?   “I’m really sorry, Professor. Yet again you have been dragged into my dramas.” You said wistfully, you meant it too. Professor Snape has shown you such kindness when he had no obligation to, it was endearing.   “Shut up. I have a reputation to maintain. I will not allow my name to be dragged through any licentious plots, real or fabricated by a common street thief.” Professor Snape said, an edge of bitterness twinged his words. You felt you understood. It was not right for him, a man eighteen years your senior- your old professor no less, to be embroiled in any scandal with an ex student, no matter how innocent it might be. You offered him a small nod and watched as he took a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, he gave you a cursory glance before he asked; “Do you mind?”

  You shook your head, and he placed a cigarette between his teeth and lit it. With a flick of his wand, the window flew open and the chilly December air flowed into the room, eliciting a shiver from you. You watched him as he took a long drag, the smoke twirled in beautiful shapes above his head before disappearing into nothing.   “I wonder what you think of me, sir. You must think I’m a mess.” You smiled sadly; he lifted a hand to stop you.   “On the contrary, I think you’re doing rather well given the circumstances.” He paused to take another drag of his cigarette. You placed your coffee mug on the floor and wrapped your arms around your body against the chill. “I’m returning to Hogwarts for the Christmas break. My business is finished in London, and I detest being here so my house will be empty. If you have need of somewhere to go.” You eyed him suspiciously. He stared blankly at you, as if he had just asked you the time.   “You’re offering me your house?”   “You may stay in my house whilst I am away. I understand you are short of options at this time.” You shook your head; it was all a bit much. Had you saved Professor Snape from a terrible fate in a previous life or something?   “Professor,” You faltered, your breath came quickly. “Why are you doing all this for me? I can’t imagine you go to this much trouble for all your old students?”   “Don’t be ungrateful.” He chastised, he tossed his cigarette into the fire and it roared in acceptance. He sat straight in his chair and leaned forward. “It may come as a shock to you, but not everyone means you harm, (Y/N).”

  That was the first time he had used your given name.   “I just don’t understand why-”   “If you don’t want my help, then I shall take my leave.”   “No!” You said, “No. Stay, please. Sorry, I’m just…struggling, I suppose. Everything seems to be happening a million miles a minute and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” You felt tears sting in the corners of your eyes. “I am so appreciative of you, sir. You have done more than my own family would have done. Thank you.”   “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Professor Snape muttered under his breath, you could have enquired further, but decided not to.   “So, how did you leave things last night? With George?”   “Well, obviously he felt very foolish. He was absolutely incensed with Mundungus, I feared for his safety at one point. He said he would seek you out at some time today.”   “…Oh.”   “He wanted to come last night, but Molly intervened. Said you’d probably relish the time alone.”

  Which you did, well you would have done, if you were alone. Your heart leaped at the idea of seeing George soon, but just as quick as your excitement grew, it was extinguished by a feeling of disquiet. George had said some really hateful things to you, he had been so quick to assume you had slighted him and refused to see reason when you challenged him. You had never thought that George could be like that, it made you uneasy.   “This displeases you?” Professor Snape said, his voice twinged with amusement. “I thought you’d be climbing the walls with excitement.” You ignored his dig and walked slowly to the window; it was really very cold now. You watched as people meandered from shop to shop, children laughed full of Christmas cheer. You smiled sadly as you watched them, that was you once. Your father would hoist you onto his shoulders and you would race down the streets of Diagon Alley, singing songs and laughing. This was to be your first Christmas without them, your parents. And whilst they had hurt you beyond measure, you found in that moment you missed them terribly, even your cold and indifferent mother. She would have a glass or two of sherry on Christmas night and invite you to sit at her feet as she stroked your hair. But that part of your life was well and truly over with now, a memory to be forgotten in time. A part of you that was dead, and nobody mourned. Sad really, wasn’t it?

“I am going to leave now, (Y/N). Thank you for letting me sleep. I’ve been so tired, I’ve got so much to do I- well, you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.” Professor Snape said from his chair behind you. “I’m travelling back to Hogwarts today.”   “Have a safe journey.” You replied, you made your way across the room and offered your hand to Professor Snape to shake. He arched an eyebrow in amusement and took your hand, he shook it roughly. He nodded once and left. Alone, absolutely, definitely alone. Turmoil, absolute, definite turmoil. You hadn’t noticed Professor Snape had slipped a piece of parchment into your hand until it dropped to the floor, you picked it up inquisitively.

65 Spinner’s End, Cokeworth. If you have need, you need only knock.

Severus

*********

  Your suitcase trundled behind you sarcastically as snowflakes drifted aimlessly to the ground. You snatched your cloak tight around your chest as you cursed yourself for not packing a pair of gloves. The Burrow was quiet, you could tell from the stillness of the garden. There was usually a creature of some sort causing absolute chaos in the hedgerows, but not today. You steeled yourself against the wind as you approached the front door, you could hear voices on the other side; not the usual calamitous laughing but a stillness you hadn’t expected. You knocked once and pushed the door open; it was warm and the heat stung as it hit your near frozen cheeks. Fred was the first one to spot you as you removed your cloak from your shoulders and hung it delicately onto a peg by the front door, careful not to get anything wet. He moved towards you and took a cold hand and gave it a squeeze before he said;   “He’s in the kitchen.”

  Indeed, he was, George stared absently out of the kitchen window, mug of tea in hand. He didn’t hear you as you came in, you took a seat at the table and waited. It must have been minutes before he turned around, you weren’t sure if George was aware there was someone staring into the back of his head or whether he had run out of tea, but nevertheless, he turned. A multitude of emotions flashed over his face as he regarded you, you tried to keep your face as neutral as possible as you stared up into the face of the one person you loved more than anything in the world.   “(Y/N),” George whispered, “I’ve missed you.”   “I think we should talk, George.”  

[memory-mortis]

Little Kitten (Dio x Reader)

Why hello there! First of all, I have no clue what this is. It’s not smut. It’s not fluff either. It’s just... huh. A random idea I had like 2 days ago. Secondly, to all of you who sent me a request months ago, I am really sorry. Don’t worry! I am still working on them! But it’s taking really long because I just went through a small writing block and I was feeling a little depressed. I will finish them one day, it just might take a while. Anyway, without further ado, let’s get this bread

WC: 1.8k TW: blood, the usual Dio stuff

So this was supposed to be a self-insert, which means the reader was originally meant to be female, but now that I think about it, it could be perceived as gender neutral too. The reader wears dresses, but fuck it, boys and nonbinary folk can wear dresses too, fuck gender stereotypes amirite?

This one contains NSFW themes. 18+ only.

“My, my… what do we have here? A soaked little kitten.”

Those were the first words he ever spoke to you. They came within a fever dream, his voice coated in honey and silk, reaching for the deepest desires hidden within your soul. He clenched your heart in his fists, dug his sharp nails into its tender meat. Figuratively speaking, of course.

Lord Dio had found you on the side of the road, soaked from the rain, beaten and bruised. You were trembling, barely conscious, and the memory of him walking towards you, his steps reminiscent of those of a proud lion, was hazy and blurry. It is safe to say that you were very close to death, and you would’ve had perished had it not been for him. You couldn’t tell to this day why he chose you out of all the poor women lying on the street, but he took a liking to you and while many men and women came to his mansion only to never return home alive, he kept you by his side and even fed you. In return… he made you his little play toy. You didn’t mind. You had nowhere else to go, and no one had treated you as respectfully as Lord Dio. He knew your boundaries, and whenever you asked him to stop, he stopped, and that is exactly why you chose to accompany him to Egypt.

The full moon hung low over the streets of Cairo littered with dots of light created by street lamps. A cool breeze of fresh air poured in through the open window which you stood by, your eyes pinned to the view of the city that opened in front of you. You did not feel cold thanks to the blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Lord Dio would freak out if you didn’t take care of yourself and that was the last thing you wanted. A sigh escaped your lips in the form of a cloud of mist. While the air in Egypt was hot and dry in the day, once the sun set, the temperatures dropped close to the freezing point. You admired your master for being able to sleep in the scorching heat. You had tried to adjust your own sleep schedule to match his but it was always just too hot to sleep and so you had to settle for seeing him late at night and early in the morning, despite how lonely that sometimes made you feel.

You started reminiscing of your first days spent with Lord Dio. The very first night he took you home you were sick and tired, so you didn’t protest when he cleaned you up and helped you get dressed into warm new clothes. Besides, from the aura he gave off, you knew you couldn’t escape even if you tried to.

“My poor little kitten, malnourished, your cheeks are so thin and your eyes so sunken,” he purred into your ear as he washed your hair. You were so exhausted you leaned back into his touch and didn’t move when he ran his hand over your throat. Dio was pleasantly surprised by your reaction, you could practically feel the smirk growing on his face as he leaned over to smell your neck. “So compliant, so submissive,” he whispered as he stroked your cheek. “I think I’ll keep you around.”

You were not a fool. You knew that Dio wasn’t human from first laying your eyes on him. Everything about him was so surreal, so ethereal, he was inhumanly gorgeous and radiated the glow of a supernatural being. You knew he was a vampire. It wasn’t your first time spotting one. But you didn’t mind. You didn’t care if you were just another meal for him. You fell prey not only to his predatory instincts and tendencies, but also to his otherworldly beauty. You craved every single look of those sharp, golden eyes, you needed his cold touch. His attention was a drug that kept you up at night.

To your surprise, it took weeks for him to show any interest in drinking your blood. In fact, he hadn’t shown himself to you at all in the first few days. Each morning, you would wake up to eggs, bread and tea on your nightstand, and every evening you would find dinner on the floor in front of your door. Lord Dio was elusive, nowhere to be found no matter how hard you tried. Sometimes you would run to the door upon hearing footsteps, only to find a completely empty hallway, and for a moment you thought that you were crazy or living in a haunted mansion.

But then… you found him. He was sitting in an armchair in the library, an open book in his lap. Despite having his back to you, he registered your presence.

“Hello there, kitten,” he greeted you without even looking at you. You shuddered at the sound of his voice, just as soft and alluring as you had remembered. Finally, he closed the book in his lap and set it aside, stood up and looked at you. The view was breathtaking. He gazed down at you hungrily, a couple of golden locks falling into his face. He had no shirt on and his broad chest and toned abs were clearly visible to you. You noticed the scar all around his neck and you would’ve questioned him about it had it not been for sudden anxiety rising within you. Before you could notice, he was behind you, brushing your hair aside to take a good look at your shoulder. “Hmm, you’ve put on some weight. Good, good… now you don’t look like a walking skeleton anymore. Tell me, kitten, what’s your name?” he asked, his voice low and somewhat comforting. You immediately felt at ease, as if intoxicated by his presence alone. “Y/n,” you answered obediently. “Y/n…” he rolled your name over his tongue as if savoring it, engraving it into his memory. “What a pretty name for a pretty little creature. Say, y/n,” he spoke in a low voice, his lips close to your ear. You couldn’t help but lean your head towards him in a trance, drunk from the vibes he radiated. You couldn’t explain it if you tried, but something about him made everything feel right. “What do you say about becoming my personal plaything? I’ll treat you well. I’ll take you everywhere I go.” You nodded all too furiously, which made him let out a chuckle that took your breath away. “Good, good,” he growled excitedly and in a matter of seconds he was gone and back in his armchair. “Go prepare yourself. There are some dresses in your closet. We’re dining together tonight.” You didn’t waste any more time.

Lord Dio didn’t need to eat. He mostly just watched you while drinking his wine. Or blood. Who knew what he held in that wine glass. At first you felt really awkward. The food was really good, but you didn’t like people watching you gobbling down on it. Eventually, however, you got used to it. Every now and then you would look up and see him either reading or smirking to himself. Sometimes, his eyes would linger on the lower parts of your body. The dresses he would bring you every now and then were very pretty, you almost felt like a doll in them. You rather didn’t ask where he got them. But what was even more exciting was him getting you out of them.

The first time, he was surprisingly gentle. You could tell that he wanted to ravish you right then and there, but he held back, just for you. You were his little kitten. He couldn’t let himself break you, at least not so soon. It was a difficult task, but he did his best to make it a pleasurable experience. Still, to this day, your favourite nights were those where he let himself slip. The ones where he would rip your dress to shreds, push your face deep into the sheets of his huge bed and tear your body apart. Every thrust of his hips felt like the first beat of your heart, every “little kitten” whispered in your ear brought you alive, the real you that was not afraid to scream. You didn’t care if Vanilla Ice, or anyone else for that matter, heard you. It was hard to do so with Dio’s cock stretching your insides, the spell he cast upon you made it hard to form a coherent thought during those times.

He loved to hear your moans, he loved the way you called out his name. It gave him an incredible power trip, and his satisfaction brought even more pleasure to you. He never even tried to tone you down. He liked it loud.

You ran your fingers over the laced choker around your neck. It was one of his many gifts, and by far your favourite. Because it was his favourite too. It quickly became a necessity to wear these. After all, you didn’t want to walk around with the bite marks on your throat exposed. He didn’t drink too much. Every now and then he would get excited during sex and drink more than usual, which caused you to be dizzy, but you didn’t mind this either. In fact, it became something of a pleasant ritual. Your brain connected the dots between drinking blood and breeding and after a while you were conditioned so well your core would throb if he so much as licked the wound.

You’d seen the corpses of all the women and men he would drain of all blood. Something about you was special, your blood was different. He said it was like a juicy cherry on top of a cake. That’s one of the reasons why he kept you around. That, and the fact that you didn’t really question his decisions.

“You’re up late,” lord Dio’s voice echoed from behind you and you didn’t even flinch when he put his hands on your shoulders. “Can’t sleep,” you mumbled. “Oh? What’s keeping you up? Need to burn some energy?” He stroked your cheek with his knuckles and you shuddered at his touch. He froze when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, turned you around and lifted your chin up to take a proper look at your face. “What’s wrong, kitten? What’s making you shed those tears? Did someone try to hurt you?” You shook your head in response. “They’re getting close, aren’t they?” Though it was a question, your tone made it sound more like a statement. Dio went silent for a moment. “Are you worried about me, Dio?” he said with a growing smirk. “I am the greatest being alive. They can try to get as close as they want, there is no way they could ever lay a hand on me.”

You sniffled and did your best to stop your quivering lip. Dio looked at you like you were a fragile little flower, wiped the tear on your cheek away with his thumb and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Come, let’s go to the bedroom, little kitten. It seems that you need to be reminded of how powerful I am.”

[mooncademia]

Late Hours

PAIRING ~ Chisaki Kai/reader

GENRE ~ fluff 

SUMMARY ~ As the day comes to a close, you laid on your bed comfortably all snuggled up, but no! Not to go to sleep! Well...at least not yet. Your boyfriend promised to come home to your apartment after work but being past midnight, why hasn’t he returned yet? 

WORD COUNT ~ 1.0k

AUTHOR’S NOTE ~ Hello everyone, my first bnha story here! Who knew it would be about Chisaki? Am I the only one who thinks he makes a great villain (and uhm...quite the handsome man)? Well, here’s a little story I wrote for you overhaul lovers out there!! We all love his slick all-black attire, amirite? I hope you all enjoy this little story and I hope it makes you feel all the feels ;) Enjoy! 

You sat on your bed in your sleepwear: pink silky pajamas shorts paired with a matching tank top. Your legs were tucked comfortably under your thick blanket and your body was leaned against your bed board. Your yellow lamp beside you was on and as you flipped through your favorite book, you barely realized how late it was (2:09 a.m. to be exact). But hey! A good book always loses track of time, right?

Though…it wasn’t just your good book aiding you to stay up so during this time of day, it was also the fact that you were waiting for your boyfriend, Kai Chisaki, to come back to your apartment. He messaged you that he’ll see you tonight at your apartment but being past midnight, you wondered why it was taking so long for him to come home.

Your boyfriend doesn’t live with you but he often visits your apartment during weekends because it is the only environment where he truly feels safe. No blood to be shed, no men to command, and most of all, he is not viewed as “leader of an underground evil organization” but rather as your boyfriend. While you were aware of his business, never once has Chisaki commanded you so sternly as he does with his men. And knowing his role in society and in his business, Chisaki sometimes comes back to your apartment angry—disappointed at something that happened at work. Though, his anger is often hidden beneath a cold facade and you knew it too well. In arguments, he never shouts, which really, can be frustrating for you. His voice is eerily stable when he’s upset or mad and as you rubbed your fingers between your book’s pages, you wondered if something bad has happened to your boyfriend that is delaying him to come back to your apartment.

But your train of thought interrupts yet again when you hear keys rustling outside your room.

Chisaki opens a door to a dark living room but sees a glimpse of light beneath the crack of your bedroom. He knew you were awake but when he glanced at the clock in your kitchen, he felt a twist of guilt knowing how late it exactly was. He takes off his mask and jacket and tears off his gloves, setting them all down on your couch.

“Chisaki?” You said aloud as you closed your book immediately and sat up straighter.

Your door opened and you saw your boyfriend walked in with his gloveless hands and bare face. His black dress shirt was messier than usual and was sloppily tucked into his pants. His gray tie hanged slightly loose on his collar, tilting at an uneven angle. A few bloodstains here and there on the left side of his cheek and temples and although he didn’t seem too physically hurt, his eyes said otherwise.

“Hey…” you said softly, eyes concerned. “Is everything—oof!”

Before you were able to ask him, Chisaki walked forward and hugged you so hard you fell back on your bed. He buried his face against the crook of your neck, letting out a sigh of contentment as you wrapped your arms around him tightly. He smelled like a combination of bad cigarettes and raw blood but you couldn’t care less, you were just glad he was back. He began to kiss your neck while you move your hands to his hair, gripping it softly.

“Hey,” Chisaki said when he propped himself up next to you. His voice was soft and almost fragile. “Sorry I’ve kept you waiting so long, work today was…” His golden eyes glanced away from yours and you could see a dark shadow floating in his gaze.

You rubbed the back of his neck and gently cupped his right cheek with your hand so you can look at him directly. You nodded and gave him a comforting smile. You didn’t need him to explain because you understood.

“It’s okay,” you said understandingly. “No worries. I’m just glad you’re here.”

Your boyfriend hummed as he leaned down and gave you a quick kiss on the lips. Soft and tender, so different from what you see him do at work with his harsh cold commands. But just before he climbs off your bed, you grabbed his hand.

“Wait, I just want to-“ you stammered as you pulled him back and kissed him again, more passionately this time. You couldn’t help yourself, you just craved it! The touch of his lips against yours was something you could cherish and savor forever, and you missed him so much. Chisaki chuckled in between kisses as he positioned himself more comfortably on your bed. He snaked his hand to your waist and down your upper thighs and you squirmed at his gentle touch. His hands have shed blood countless times, but when he’s with you, he’s as soft as a feather. You didn’t know how long you kissed him for, but to the both of you, the moment could last forever.

You pulled away embarrassingly. Only you could have some power to get Chisaki to do what you want (sometimes of course), but every time, you always blush from your unnatural bold act. “Okay, uhm…you can go now.” You said as you poked his shoulder shyly and looked away. Your cheeks turning warmer.

Chisaki’s eyes glimmered as he watched how cute you get from your bold act. A smile formed on his lips. Despite having a bad day at work, seeing you now has slowly recovered him from it. He laughed quietly and gave you a kiss on your forehead for one last good measure.

“I’ll go wash up,” he said to you, his expression more relaxed and softened than before. You were glad that he is feeling better.

You looked up at him with a smile as you nodded. “Kay.”

And as Chisaki takes off his tie and shirt and headed out the door, you hug your chest tightly, hoping your heart won’t beat so fast from seeing him walking out there ever so handsomely.

A/N: If you actually read the fic, thank you so so much!! *gives you a GIGANTIC virtual hug*!! I guess you can say I’m relatively new to writing these kinds of stories but I have had so much fun planning and writing them and I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart for your time to read this story. It truly means the world. I apologize if there are a few grammar errors, I promise to keep on practicing and get better! Please don’t hesitate to message me abt this story or bnha in general, I’ll be so happy to message back. I hope you have a wonderful day~ ♡ 

[omgreally]

Congrats on 400 darling!! You deserve it for all the hard work you put into your fics~ I'm feeling v soft today so can I have a mix of aftercare and physical intimacy from your prompt list? 🥺🥺

Thank you and i am SO SORRY this took so long jfc talk about a flake amirite

After, Always

Din Djarin/F!Reader Rating: PG-13/M-ish for reference to sexytimes I guess? Words: 793

A moment between the Mandalorian and his lover, after the frenzy is over.

---

The smooth expanse of your skin glistens in the wan half-light of the ship’s hold, odd-shaped shadows cast by crates and cargo painting your body in a chiascoro of jagged edges and smooth curves. The Mandalorian admires them, admires the way your breasts rise and fall with the rhythm of your slowing breath, and allows his hand - his bare hand - to trace the shape of you, his fingers mapping the fan of your ribs.

There are marks, too, marks that he has left - deep, purpling bruises sucked into the flesh of your neck, your collar, the outline of his teeth on your shoulder. He should feel shame, he knows; shame for all of this, but all he can muster is a distinctly male pride: The pride of possession, of branding you so that all who look upon even a sliver of your skin will know - you are his.

Still, that pride wars with a distinct spark of concern when he finds the bruises from his hands, a near-perfect outline of his digits over your hips, and in the semi-darkness, his brow knits with a frown.

“Are you - okay, mesh’la?” he asks, his unfiltered voice hoarse and rich in the semi-darkness. Your eyelids flutter, and you raise them to look up at him; relief floods him in counterpoint to your radiant smile.

“I’m...perfect,” you rasp, raw and ruined like a torched nerve. You can’t bring yourself to move, for everything aches in the most wonderful way. You’re sticky with sweat and other bodily fluids and your skin smarts where Mando has claimed you but you’ve never felt better, more alive. 

“Yes,” the warrior agrees, his voice breaking where it shouldn’t, and you turn your cheek to his palm as he lifts it to the side of your face. “You are.”

With the hand on your face and the other impossibly gentle on your shoulder, he draws you close. You’re about to protest at the state of you, but he silences all of it with his embrace, suppresses any hint of hesitancy with the broad expanse of his chest, the enclosing safety of his arms around you, the bright, sharp smell of his hair and the musk of his skin smothering any and all desire you have to be anywhere except here, with him.

“Did I hurt you?” he murmurs, needing reassurance as much as he needs to reassure you. You muffle a laugh against his sternum and curl an arm up, around his neck. The touch might have been alien once but is now as familiar and comforting as the weight of his armor.

“If you did, I definitely enjoyed it at the time,” you say, your tone too light, too jovial for this moment. His hand curls around your wrist and you pull back at his prompting. You can just about see his eyes and the outline of the furrows in his forehead above a sharp, strong nose, and your only recently-slowed breath catches at the intensity of his expression.

“Did I hurt you?” he repeats, serious, as if it’s a life-or-death question - maybe for him, it is. You soften, touch his face with your free hand, and your heart aches when he flinches. He’s still not used to receiving any kind of tenderness or kindness, although he is capable of so much of it himself. It’s a dichotomy he can’t yet reconcile.

“No,” you say gently. “Not in the way you mean.” He makes you feel safe, and loved, and care for, in a way nobody else ever has - in a way you’re not sure you deserve. 

If only you knew that the Mandalorian feels the exact same way.

In lieu of words, though, there is touch, and this is a language Din Djarin has learned far more quickly than any other. His lips taste like you, the memory of what you did together here on the deck, and the promise of more, for he is always eager, always ravenous when he kisses you. This time, though, it’s slower, a more thoughtful brush of his mouth over yours, a soothing pressure that makes you sigh and the space inside your chest expand.

“I’ll always take care of you, cyare,” he tells you, and although you don’t know what the Mando’a words mean, they never fail to make you weak and warm inside. “Always.”

“I know,” you tell him, and you smile against his stubbled cheek. “And I’ll take care of you, too.”

His grip on you tightens for a moment, and then he melts, like ice over a flame. He presses his mouth to your neck as if he can kiss away the marks there. For he knows, now, that he doesn’t need anything visible to know that you are his - and he is yours.

Always.

[dudeandduchess]

HGW, Day 7: Forbidden Love | Giyuu x F!S/O [NSFW]

NOTE: Hey hey, bbys! Finally, I finished this. Ahhh. I finished HGW! Albeit I was a day late but better late than never, amirite? Ahaha. Hope you guys enjoyed Hurt Giyuu Week as much as I did.

Stay tuned for Infinite Feels Train Week. Lmao.

***

Warning: Angst with Happy Ending, Fluff, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Creampie, Wall Sex, Mentions of a Breeding Kink, Choking Word Count: 3,456

Once (Y/n) had been stowed within a blanket, with her head firmly attached onto her unconscious body, the three Hashira had set on back to the Ubuyashiki estate to settle things.

They had called for an emergency meeting, which was received and accepted promptly by Oyakata-sama himself; so it stood to reason why Giyuu felt so breathless and weak.

He had knowingly gone against the rules that were ingrained into him from a young age; he knew that he should have been ashamed of himself and what he had done, but he couldn’t find it in him to regret his actions. He felt so breathless and weak not because he was sorry, but because his conscience harped at him so heavily about not feeling guilty.

A trial had been held to judge him for his crimes, but the end judgment had ruled out for the best— with Oyakata-sama’s kind consideration.

Had he not interfered on Giyuu’s behalf, (Y/n) would have been long dead; and Giyuu would have followed with the same fate as well.

But Kagaya had brought up the Water Hashira’s years of service to the Slayer Corps, as well as the fact that (Y/n) had never killed a human being before, so it served to back Giyuu up from his comrades’ harsh verdicts.

The Ubuyashiki patriarch also recounted the story of how (Y/n) was someone extremely important from Giyuu’s childhood, as told to him by the young man himself, which helped curb some of the anger directed towards him for his betrayal.

However, the fact remained that he had still committed treachery and that he needed to face the consequences of his actions.

And so, that was how he had ended up being saddled with more missions. On top of that, his pay was also going to be halved for three months; and (Y/n) was going to stay at the Butterfly estate— inside a shed that was surrounded by wisteria trees— as a prisoner.

It was either that, or be sent to Fujikasane to serve as prey for incoming Slayers. So Giyuu immediately acquiesced to the plan where (Y/n) was a prisoner, as it was better to have her be trapped and alive, rather than be hunted down— or worse, dead.

And so, the days where Giyuu frequently visited the Butterfly Mansion began.

He wasn’t allowed to go anywhere near (Y/n), especially without supervision from another Hashira, as there was no guarantee that Giyuu wouldn’t break her out of her prison if given the opportunity. So he made do with standing atop the estate’s eastern fence to gaze longingly at (Y/n).

Once a week the Water Hashira would take some time out of his busy schedule to check up on her; and he was just thankful that Shinobu granted him some privacy— at the very least— during his visits.

Her aura would hang around the area heavily, and Giyuu would always feel eyes on the back of his head, but not once did anyone try to make him go away.

All for good reason, as (Y/n)’s agitation would grow nonexistent when she could feel his presence; thus putting the entire Butterfly Estate at ease, even if only for an hour.

She knew that she had it easier than most demons, as she was actually left alive, but that didn’t diminish the irritation she felt at being trapped like an animal.

Due to the lack of any human contact, she settled for reading the tomes that Shinobu had been gracious enough to lend her. Most of them were medical books, but she didn’t care; as long as it kept her busy, then she would read them from cover to cover.

Still, reading couldn’t dull out the hunger pangs she felt. She wasn’t really hungry, as she could never feel hunger again, but more like extremely tempted; as the scent of humans permeated her senses over the smell of the wisteria flowers that surrounded her little shed.

Yet she had no choice other than to endure; because becoming a demon— though involuntary— was the card she had been dealt, and she had to wait… just until Giyuu found a cure for her.

She had to be strong, even though her heart yearned for her lover’s touch once more.

***

“I’m willing to compromise, Kochō. Just let me…” Giyuu’s eyebrows knitted together in ill-concealed frustration, before smoothing out when he sighed heavily. “Please let me give this to her. At the very least, let me see her up close.”

Then, in a much quieter tone, the young man added, “Please. I need to see if she’s fine.”

His eyes flitted back down to the blue spider lily in his right hand. The moment he’d seen it while on Mount Yoko— to assess the overall state of the resources on the mountain, as was part of his punishment— his mind had immediately gone back to (Y/n) and how she would adore such a strange colored flower.

So he’d picked it up from the cluster it had been in, and carefully held on to it while on the way to the Butterfly Estate.

Shinobu felt a pang in her chest at that; maybe it was pity, she wasn’t too sure, but she found herself sympathizing with her fellow Hashira. If it were her in Giyuu’s position, she would want to know how her loved one was faring along, as well.

The worst that could happen was that he would break (Y/n) out of her prison. But really, the demoness wouldn’t even be able to make it past the wisteria trees before she perished. Not with all the wisteria-laced traps Shinobu had put in place; which she knew that the Water Hashira knew well about.

The desperation in Giyuu’s eyes were evident; it was the first time that she had ever seen such an expression cross his features. So, even if she was on the fence about it, the Insect Hashira still found herself sighing and nodding her assent.

If it were her in his position, she would have done everything possible to be as close as possible to the one she loved.

“You have until sunrise to spend with her.”

Giyuu was surprised at that answer; not only because he had already begun to formulate a crafty plan to sneak in to (Y/n)’s makeshift prison, but also because never had he thought that someone would understand him to the point of sympathizing with him.

It was a first; especially since it was him and Shinobu that were involved.

Still, he didn’t miss another second after that. He merely nodded at her, before breaking into a sprint for the shed that was tucked away within the estate’s grounds. He easily bypassed all of the traps without setting them off— as he knew that that would only serve to piss his comrade off.

(Y/n) sensed him nearing before she smelled his familiar scent; and her heart immediately thrummed with the overwhelming feeling of elation and fear coursing through her. She had known the stipulations of her confinement, and him coming towards her could have only meant that he was going to break the agreement.

Still, she could do nothing but wait in anticipation for him to open the door.

And when he did, Giyuu was immediately wrapped up in a tight hug. He hadn’t even closed the door fully when she jumped at him.

No words were exchanged between them as he returned her embrace, and pressed his lips against the crown of her head. Then slowly, he began to pepper her hair with the kisses he’d long since wanted to bestow upon her.

His heart felt so full of love for her, that he couldn’t hold back the numerous tears that began to roll down his cheeks. He then held her closer to him, if only to feel if she was actually real, which caused a sob to break free from his lips.

At that, (Y/n) pulled away from him— holding him at arms’ length— and ducked down to see his face, as he had turned to look down at the floor; in order to hide his shameful tears from the woman in front of him.

A sad smile lifted the corners of the young woman’s lips, before she cupped her lover’s cheeks in her hands and pulled him down so that their foreheads were pressed together.

With him she could control the unbridled thirst inside her; and for him she would try to control it— even if it took her lifetimes to do so. Because she knew that, no matter how sweet Giyuu’s promises to her were, they were nothing but pipe dreams.

The only solution she knew to cure her was to kill Muzan himself; which would also kill her, in turn.

Gently, she began to press her lips against his— first in tentative, fluttering touches that left her already breathless with sheer happiness.  Then, she took in a deep breath and licked her bottom lip, before tilting her head to the side and fusing their mouths together in a deep kiss.

The action seemed to rouse Giyuu from his tear-laden reaction to seeing her again. He responded to her kisses, moving his mouth pliantly with hers, while his right hand lifted itself up and cradled the back of her head.

His thumb and middle finger squeezed the base of her skull gently— a long-established signal for her to open her mouth for him— which she wholeheartedly complied to.

Giyuu then slipped his tongue into his lover’s mouth; tasting her sweetness after so long. He groaned against her, before moving on to bite her bottom lip.

However, instead of taking things further, he pulled away from her— lightly tugging at her lip along the way— and rose up to his full height.

Tears still stained his cheeks, but his eyes were brighter; much more radiant with the lust and excitement that bubbled up inside him. And that made a gentle smile touch upon (Y/n)’s lips.

His answering smile was faint, but she didn’t mind. She knew the full extent of his happiness, because it mirrored hers. They didn’t need to validate their emotions with words; they just felt it, just like how they felt the storms in themselves quieted down when they were together.

They had a connection that most people could only ever dream of.

“I brought you something,” Giyuu began softly, then held up the blue Spider Lily that had been in his left hand the whole time.

(Y/n) felt something incessantly knocking inside her head; like a memory that she had long suppressed. It was trying to break out of the thought space she had put it into, but she refused to let it free; as that thought space was kept locked tight because they were all somehow related to Muzan.

Gingerly, she accepted the flower and cast a full-blown grin at her lover. “It’s very pretty. It reminds me of your eyes. Thank you.”

The grin served to knock the breath out of the Water Hashira, and he had to struggle with trying to maintain his composure, as he made a conscious effort to not take her in his arms and kiss her senseless.

(Y/n) didn’t make things any easier for him, however, as she got up on her toes and pressed another kiss to his lips in a show of her gratitude. She then sashayed away from him, while he lifted his hands up and wiped the tear tracks off of his cheeks.

Still, his eyes never left her as she moved around the sizeable room with ease. It seemed to have been a guest house before being turned into (Y/n)’s prison, which further eased Giyuu’s worries of her having unsavory living conditions.

She took a chipped cup of tea from inside her bedside drawer, then filled it up with some water from the water basin inside the small bathroom.

When she returned back to the main room, she set the cup down on top of her bedside drawer and set the flower in the water. It kept tipping over, however, so she propped it up against the wall with a quiet huff of irritation.

The chuckle bubbled out from Giyuu’s lips before he knew it, as his expression softened into one of sheer love and admiration for her. And slowly, he closed the distance between them to move her hair to her right shoulder, before lavishing open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin of her neck.

Instead of shying away from her lover’s touch, however, (Y/n) practically melted against him. She rocked back on her heels and pressed her back against his warm, clothed chest.

Giyuu set his hands on either side of her waist, kneading gently before letting the right one snake towards her center. His fingers then pressed against her cunt through the smooth fabric of her yukata, before rubbing her clit in circles. It still amazed her how well Giyuu knew her body, as he could always map out her pleasure zones without much effort.

But that was beside the point at that moment, because a pleasured moan cut through her thoughts. It reverberated off the walls with how quiet their surroundings were, but that only served to make Giyuu’s cock harder in his pants.

His left hand moved to untie her obi— successfully loosening the bindings— only to give up on it when actually unravelling it proved to be a challenge. Out of sheer frustration, he tugged at the ties to loosen them as much as possible, until the front of his lover’s outfit fell open to reveal her naked breasts.

She also wasn’t wearing any underwear, which was highly arousing; but if he didn’t know any better, he would say that she had been anticipating his visit. Her readiness reminded him so much of all the times when she would wait up for him on that mountain, completely bare as she fingered herself to thoughts of him.

He had walked in on her too many times to count, but each and every time was more pleasurable than the last; as they would try out new positions and kinks that Giyuu picked up during his travels.

His favorite was cockwarming, but he was too impatient for it at that moment. He just wanted to savor the taste and feel of her body while he could. Besides, he didn’t have enough time to fill her up with his cum until she got pregnant from it— if that was even possible— as much as he wanted to.

But he wanted to breed her, bad.

He continued lavishing her neck with kisses and love bites, even though the bruises disappeared the moment his lips unlatched themselves from her skin. It still made Giyuu so hot to see that, even for a moment, he could mark her as his; in a way that he couldn’t when they had been apart.

“I’m already so wet, Giyuu. Please,” (Y/n) mewled through needy pants, only to cry out when he slipped his hand beneath the slit of her yukata and ran the tip of his index finger along her wet slit. He then flicked her clit repeatedly, which made her knees shake with so much pleasure that her hands flew to both of his arms to hold on to something.

“Not yet. Not until you cum,” The Hashira whispered against her neck, before biting down on the supple skin and leaving a bright red set of teeth marks— which faded away after a few seconds.

The young demoness gripped tighter onto her lover’s arms, trying to find purchase as he delved his fingers further into her cunt and slipped two fingers inside of her.

Giyuu scissored his digits inside (Y/n)’s tight walls, trying to loosen her up for his cock, as it had been quite some time since they’d last had sex. Demon or not, he didn’t want to cause her any pain.

When he began moving his hand, however, she had to bite down on her bottom lip to keep from letting everyone within the Butterfly Estate know just how amazing Giyuu’s fingers felt inside her. As it was, she already knew that Shinobu knew what they were up to; but she really couldn’t care less.

While he was pumping his fingers inside her, Giyuu moved his left hand up to encircle (Y/n)’s neck. He moved his lips up to her ear, just resting there and nibbling on the shell of it every so often; while his hand squeezed her neck gently until her breath hitched in her throat.

Her pulse thrummed so frantically beneath his fingers, that he couldn’t help but get lost at the pleasurable thought that he could still make her heart race like he did at that moment.

“I want you to cum around my fingers, before I let you cum around my cock,” He stated quietly, before increasing the pace of his hand’s thrusts.

(Y/n) was reduced to nothing more than a moaning and quivering mess as her orgasm rocked through her. Her knees felt so shaky that she was afraid of accidentally falling, but she was also confident in the fact that Giyuu wouldn’t let that happen; so she surrendered herself to him.

Giyuu smirked at that. “Good girl.”

He then loosened his old upon her neck, and pulled his fingers out of her— only to bring the digits up to his mouth and suck them clean— before making her bend over with her hands against the wall in front of her.

The Hashira made quick work of his belt and pants; unfastening and unzipping, before tossing his sword onto the bed right next to them. And when he pulled his cock out, the groan that left his lips was so pained and needy that it made (Y/n) even wetter.

She could only wait in anticipation, as her lover bunched the hem of her yukata up to her waist, before lining himself up to her sopping entrance.

As much as he wanted to bury himself to the hilt in one thrust, Giyuu took his time and gently eased his cock inside (Y/n). He thrusted lightly to help take some of his edge off, and moaned so deliciously when he managed to bury his dick all the way to the hilt.

His first few thrusts after that were slow and gentle; trying to establish a good rhythm. And when he did manage to find a good pace and angle to thrust, he gripped her hips tightly to keep her from getting lifted off the ground with how rough he was being.

Still, despite his effort to keep her grounded, her feet still bounced off the floor with every other thrust. She had also resorted to bowing her head and biting her tongue to keep from screaming out in pleasure, because sex with Giyuu felt so amazing; like it always did.

“I want you to fill me up with your warm cum, Giyuu. Please, I need it,” The young woman pleaded breathlessly, then resumed biting down on her tongue when the Hashira’s thrusts grew more frenzied to the point of being borderline sloppy.

But she didn’t care about his technique; not when her legs were shaking with the pleasure that another imminent orgasm entailed.

Giyuu felt (Y/n)’s walls begin to pulse around him, which had him trying to chase his own orgasm quicker. His grip on her waist tightened even more, as he reveled in the feeling of his own peak starting to draw nearer.

And when it came crashing down upon him, his hips snapped jerkily, as he tried to push his cock as deep into (Y/n) as it could go. He knew that the chances of her getting pregnant were little to none, but his libido flared up even more at the thought of having her carry his child.

Thick ropes of his cum shot out of him in spurts, filling (Y/n) to the brim and triggering her own release.

She felt her pussy clench down on Giyuu’s cock, as her lower abdomen clenched tightly at her orgasm. Pleasure flooded her senses once more, which caused the tight reign she had on her concealed thought space to loosen enough for a memory to play through the momentary lapse in her control.

Completely breathless and spent, she leaned most of her weight onto her hands— which were still flush against the wall— before casting a glance at the blue spider lily that had fallen out of the makeshift vase that she had put it in.

She wasn’t sure about it, but she felt like she had the cure to her demonism.

[stanzoeywade]

Queen B Mamma Mia AU pt.1

Taglist: @somewillwin @belvoiresqueenbee @origmansello @clownery-is-a-new-personality @kamilahtrash @poppysminion @poppysimp @minsinclair-lee @poppysmc @iiizdumb @uselesslesbianfr @scattered-to-the-winds @idiot-justidiot @toyhenoctus @begoniathotia @otakufangirl-12 @malvinghlein

Summary: This will be based off the sequel so yeah. Enjoy. Hopefully I do this AU justice lmaooo. This first part will be Chloe St.James centric where she will be the character Harry.

First of all I headcanon Chloe to look like Chloe Grace Moretz, because they kinda look the same with their facial structure and nose shape. You don't have to agree, I'm just saying lol.

•Everything starts with you graduating from Belvoire University. Zoey and Penelope as your two best friends, and as a way of wanting freedom, you decide to go around the world in hopes of finding somewhere to settle down.

• Your first stop is Paris, France - also known as the fashion capital as well as being the famous city of love. You immediately fall for the sights that Paris has to offer, it's beautiful, you can't help but think.

• You stumble your way into a hostel tucked away in a small corner of Paris. You're ringing the bell waiting for a concierge but no one comes, so you decide to go behind the counter to get a key for a room. I mean who's gonna turn down the chance to get a free room amirite?

• This is when you meet Chloe, who's dressed in nothing but a bathrobe. Hair wet and dripping on the staircase. The two of you make eye contact and she immediately tries to explain in broken French and English. You just look at her in amusement, having to bite your lower lip to prevent yourself from laughing. "Je voudrais une spare key, s'il vous plaît." she says desperately hoping you understand. "Je suis locked out ma chambre." she pleads.

• Your eyebrows raise in amusement and you can't help but tease her. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite understand. Can you please repeat that?." you say in English. She quickly repeats her broken French until she realises, and she stares at you with a deadpan expression.

• "I don't work here." you quickly explain. She looks at you, curiosity present in those big blue eyes. "I'm gonna call the police." she chides, as to remove the awkward tension. You're quick to say "Please don't." and she just laughs and says "Yeah, I don't think they'll understand my French anyway."

• You quickly check her out, and you're instantly attracted, 'She looks really cute, and she's very sweet too.' - you think to yourself. Chloe also checks you out and thinks 'She's really pretty, I hope she isn't dating anyone. Maybe I have a chance?'

• The two of you decide to tour around Paris together, and you're immediately charmed by Chloe, she's so very nice, albeit naive but she's very charming in her awkward way.

• Chloe's in the same boat, she didn't think that she could fall this fast, but you're a welcome surprise, she loves how you listen and play along with her whenever she has weird thoughts. The two of you find each other very attractive, and it's obvious judging by your long stares and lingering touches.

• "Would it be okay if you hold your bag using your other arm?" she asks meekly. You're confused and you say "Sure, but why?" You notice that she looks shy, cheeks flushed as she stares at the ground. "It's so I can hold your hand" she says in a quiet voice.

• Your heart soars because how can leather jacket wearing "bad girl" Chloe be so fucking cute. You're immediately charmed and you oblige by holding her hand as you walk through the streets of Paris.

• The two of you make your way to a small French restaurant, and despite its outside appearance, you're surprised by how cozy it looks on the inside. You sit across from Chloe, who looks at you with an intense gaze you can feel like she's staring at your soul.

• You learn a lot about Chloe and she's quick to open up to you. It's the same for you though, she makes you feel at ease and even though you've only known each other for a few hours, you can already see yourself trusting her. You tell her about your dream of finding that one place you can call home, and you tell her of your plan to go to Greece someday.

Play Waterloo.

• "What do you think about sleeping together?" she says tentatively, and you choke on your water. "Well aren't you forward" you say playfully. She looks at you and pulls out her guitar, where she starts to play and sing, serenading you. You're surprised by how well she can sing and you can't help but blush.

• You stop her from singing, and she's quick to explain why. "You would be my first" she says quietly and you don't believe her. "You can't be serious, Chloe have you seen yourself? You're lying right?" you say suspicious, but Chloe just looks at you sincerely as she says "There's a lot of advantages of us sleeping together and it will be a win-win situation. I'm also being serious, you'll be my first. It's mad but I think I like you."

• By the end of the night the two of you go to her room, where you spend the night.

NSFW CUT

• As soon as you get to her room at the end of the night, you quickly kiss her gently, as to not overwhelm her. You ask "Are you sure you want to do this Chloe?" and she nods her head as she says "I've never been so sure."

• It starts slow and gentle, where both of you gently caress each other's body, reveling at the soft skin under your touch. You can't help but want to kiss Chloe senseless, especially with that soft expression on her face.

• You slowly start to begin undressing her, tugging on her jacket and quickly taking her shirt off. You can't help but stare at her as you whisper "Beautiful". Her milky white skin looks soft and unblemished, especially with the light shining on her, making it seem like a halo was adorning the top of her head, due to her platinum blonde hair. Your breath is taken away, and you're slowly pulled back to reality when she kisses you again.

• "It's not fair if I'm the only one stripped down to my underwear." she says voice husky from desire. She takes her time undressing you as if opening a present. She kisses each patch of skin that she unravels, her kisses trailing down your neck to your breasts.

• You whine at her soft kisses, and you pull her face towards your lips, kissing her as your hands move downwards to her stomach. She shudders at your touch, and your hands go lower until they find the inside of her thighs.

• You pull at the fabric of her underwear, pulling it down, and Chloe gasps into the kiss, and you pull away to kiss her neck, sucking and biting to leave marks, Chloe's soft whimpers and moans being music to your ears.

• You start to tease her clit, adding pressure using your fingers. Her eyes are glossy, filled with lust as her hips jerk forward wanting more friction. "Rosie, please I need you inside." she pleads desperately. You comply and slide your index and middle fingers inside. She groans at the contact and slightly jerks her hips forward. Your thumb brushes against her clit, which earns you yet another moan.

• You want to hear more so you thrust your fingers in and out slowly, to make sure that she gets used to the movement first. As soon as you feel her inner walls clench around your fingers, you can't help the groan that comes out your mouth as you say "Fuck Chloe, you're so tight." You start to thrust faster and Chloe lets out a wail in pleasure, her body shuddering as you find her g-spot. She's close to cumming, and you can tell because she's lost control of her upper body, which means that she has to lean forward to you for support. She climaxes with a silent moan, body glistening with sweat making her glow and you've never seen anything so hot.

• After Chloe comes down from her high, you kiss her softly and ask "Did that feel as good as it looked?" Her cheeks are still flushed and her breathing is still shaky, and all she can do is nod her head as a response.

• The two of you just bask in the afterglow, cuddling together as Chloe starts pillow talk. "That was nice, it was more than nice actually." she rambles on and you find her oh so very cute at this moment. "Was that okay for you?" she asks shyly, and your response is a soft smile as you say "It was lovely, I had a great time."

• The next day Chloe wakes up to a note by the drawer next to bed and it reads "Thank you for last night, Chloe, that was amazing. I'm sorry for saying goodbye through a note, but I feel like amazing things are waiting for me."

• She immediately gets up out of bed and runs to the airport getting herself a spot on the next flight to Greece.

• As she gets there, she sees you with another woman on a boat, leaving the dock, and her heart is immediately left broken. "Why did I have to fall for you, Rosie Hughes?" she whispers, voice breaking as she sees your figure disappear off into the distance.

Hi, hi everyone this is the first part of the AU, hopefully I did it justice, as always don't forget to like or reblog. (I read the tags when you guys reblog and it always makes me happy when I see that you just enjoyed what I wrote.) The next part will be about Veronica as Bill. 🥺💋 I hope you enjoyed reading. 💕

[verai-marcel]

The Things That We Could Be (Charles x F!Reader, Biker AU, 18+, 1 of 3)

Summary: You’re a freelance writer, trying to bust into the world of journalism. While the local paper gives you a few assignments here and there, you’re looking to catch a big break. When you start sniffing around one of the local motorcycle clubs, you find more than you can handle, and it leads you to discovering secrets about the owner of your favorite cafe, a man with warm brown eyes and the kindest smile.

Author’s Notes: This story has been in my head for a while. Hope you like it. Also disclaimer: I did some light research on motorcycle clubs, but I really don’t know a whole lot about them, so this may come off as pretty generic. That’s fine, we’re here for the Charles smut, amirite? Also, can you guess what song I took the title of this fic from?

Tags: plot, drama, violence, cheesy 80s vibe, bathroom sex, doggy style, smut, romance

AO3 Link is here, sweetie.

Word Count: 2567

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Chapter 1 - New Girl in Town

“C’mere Natasha,” you cooed at the calico cat that had walked towards you as soon as you had entered the cat area of Crafty Cats. This cat café was your haven, your home away from home, ever since you had moved to this area two months ago. Pursuing your career of news journalism, you worked for a local paper, hoping to get enough experience to break news left and right. It was the hunt for the story that drove you; the search for truth kept you going even when your boss cut your articles time and again. You dreamed of one day crafting the words that would move hearts around the world. 

But for now, with your crushing student debt, you settled for any job that would keep you afloat. Even though this town was small and relatively quiet, there were still stories to be told. Pulling out your laptop, you started typing away as Natasha leapt into your lap, curled herself into a ball, and purred loudly. Patting her absentmindedly as you hemmed and hawed over your word choices, a soft chime of the bells tied to the door heralded another visitor. 

"Your hour is almost up."

You looked up at Charles, the owner of the café. His long black hair was loosely tied up in a queue, but shaved on either side of his head. Tendrils too short to be tied back fell around his face, framing a strong jaw and a gentle smile. 

And that voice? Ooh, it was like sinking into a hot bath. You could listen to him talk all day. 

Unable to stop yourself, you pouted. "Already? It feels like I just got here."

Charles laughed softly before looking through the large window that separated the cat area from the café. Then he turned to you and placed a finger to his lips, winking at you. 

"Maybe you still have another thirty minutes left," he said with a smile. "I won't tell anyone if you won't."

You grinned. "You're the best, Charles."

He just shyly shrugged as he began to reach down toward Natasha. He paused, looking at you for permission to get closer. "May I?" 

"Of course," you said, leaning back to give him room. He gently pet Natasha's head, a smile on his face as she lifted her head to rub against his palm. 

You envied the cat so much at that moment. 

With Charles so close, you could see the profile of his face, so beautiful to you, and the lines of scars on his cheek and jawline told a story that filled you with a burning curiosity. You wanted to ask, but you also got the feeling that it would be overstepping some boundary and the warm aura that surrounded him would disappear.

So you swallowed your questions and continued to watch him pet Natasha for a few more moments. When he got up, he looked at you, almost as if he was going to pet you next. Or maybe it was just you projecting your fantasies onto him. He walked away, heading out the door and entering the cafe again. You looked through the window and watched him talk to the barista who was working at the bar, and then he headed through the back door, presumably to do manager things.

You turned back to your laptop. He had given you an extra 30 minutes. Better make them count.

***

“I thought you quit smokin’.”

Charles shrugged as Arthur came up to stand next to him, leaning against the back wall of the cat café. It had been a long day, and even though he rarely smoked anymore, today just seemed like that kind of day. He took a long drag, blowing out the smoke slowly as he looked up at the crimson sky.

“Who’s the girl?”

Charles turned to look at Arthur, an eyebrow raised incredulously. “How’d you know?”

Arthur chuckled. “You used to smoke a lot whenever you had your eye on someone.”

Charles let out a short laugh. “Am I that easy to read?”

“Nah, I’ve just known you long enough.”

Charles smiled as he put out the rest of his cigarette. “She’s a writer. Watching her work in my café… It’s nice.”

“You goin’ to make a move then?”

Charles turned to him, a wry grin on his face. “I’m not letting this one get away.”

***

You were packing up your laptop just as you saw Charles and another man come through the back door. It was sunset on a Saturday, and Charles always shut the cafe down early on Saturday nights to give him and his barista a break. Spotting the barista grin as she saw the other man, you were suddenly intrigued by the way they looked at each other, a heat to their grins as she reached for him, pulling him close. He kissed her forehead gently, his head tilting to one side slightly to gaze at her, and you felt as if you were watching a much more intimate moment. Heat flooded your cheeks as you quickly looked away, continuing to pack.

Once you had everything put away in your laptop bag, you moved to get up, but a small paw attached itself to your leg.

“Sorry Nattie, I can’t stay.”

The calico meowed and dug her claws in.

The door opened and closed. You could hear Charles laughing softly. “She really likes you.”

You managed to pry Natasha’s claws out of your pants and stepped out of the way before she batted at you again. “I’d adopt her if I could, but my apartment doesn’t allow pets.”

Charles nodded. “I understand. Arthur over there is in the same situation,” he said, nodding towards the man who was now holding the door for the barista as they exited the cafe. Arthur looked up and waved goodbye with two fingers as Charles waved back the same way.

He looked back at you. “If you ever move into an apartment that can have pets, you’ll have to fight him for her,” he joked. “Natasha only likes the two of us and Arthur.”

Your shoulders sank. You were stuck in a 6 month lease for the only place you could afford, a dinky studio apartment in the next town over. “It’ll be a long time before I can move,” you lamented.

Charles stepped closer to you. His concern was pouring out in waves; when you had told him during a previous visit about where you lived, he had immediately told you to go home while the sun was still out. You were still trying to figure out what places were safe and what places weren’t, and when he had talked about how the motorcycle club in that area had a tendency to harass new people to the town, you started to keep up your guard and to play it safe, getting home before dark and locking the door. So far, so good.

But you were also curious about this motorcycle club; were they really as bad as Charles said they were? He was just a cafe owner, what would he know about this? Had they threatened him in the past?

Your train of thought stopped when he placed his hand on your shoulder. His warmth was inviting, his touch was gentle. You wondered for a split second how it would feel to have his hands all over your body.

“Charles?”

“Just… stay safe, alright?” He looked away for a moment, thinking over something before looking back at you. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Alright,” you said, a little breathy. “Thank you.”

As if your heartbeat wasn’t erratic before, the smile that bloomed on his face made your cheeks warm and your breath quicken. You nodded at him and headed for the door, trying to hide how he was making you feel.

But as you walked past him, his hand brushed the small of your back, and he quickly caught up with you so he could hold the door open like a gentleman. “See you tomorrow?”

You smiled. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

***

Back at your place, you took a deep breath. You were going to do this. You were going to start investigating the local motorcycle club.

***

A week had passed. While you were churning out articles for websites and the local paper, you were also asking around about the MC. Most people just knew to steer clear of them, that if you  didn’t bother them, they didn’t bother you. Some suggested you stop investigating them, to stop sticking your nose where it shouldn’t go. But of course, you couldn’t do that. You wanted to know what they were about, what was their motive. 

Some men wanted power & money. Others just wanted to watch the world burn.

You were hoping it wasn’t the latter. 

***

A banging on your door woke you up late at night. Startled, you grabbed the metal baseball bat near your bed and slowly walked towards the door, only for it to suddenly burst open. 

Three big, burly men poured into your doorway, the light outside making their silhouettes even larger.

“Heard you been askin’ about us.”

You swallowed.

One of them walked up to you. You swung your bat.

He dodged it and grabbed it, pulling it easily from your grip. “We don’t want to hurt you, baby. Unless you keep asking about us.”

“Why?” you asked. It was the first thing out of your mouth, and once you asked, the rest came out. “Why is this town so afraid of you?”

One of the other men stepped forward and grabbed you by the throat as you tried to step away. You clawed at his arm, but he was strong as steel, his fingers digging into your neck.

“We don’t owe you an explanation, lady,” he said. “Stop askin’ about us.”

“Or else,” the third man threatened.

You hated being told what to do. But you saw the danger in your situation. You clamped down on your urge to question them. It’d be hard to write a news story if you were in a hospital. Or dead.

So you kept your mouth shut and stared them down.

“You goin’ to stop?”

You nodded, just to get him to let you go.

The man let you go, pushing you backwards with a hard shove. You staggered back, but stayed on your feet.

“Don’t think about calling the cops,” the leader said, taking a practice swing with your bat. “They can’t protect you all the time.”

Then he swung the bat into your TV, smashing it into bits. Tossing the bat onto the ground, he and others laughed as they walked out the door and into the cold, dark night. As they left, you caught the symbol on their jackets: in large letters, ODB written across the top, with a green skull inside of a four-leaf clover below it. The letters MC were on the right of the symbol. 

It was the O’Driscoll Boys.

You fell to your knees, shaken and scared, but also filled with an all-encompassing anger, burning-hot and laced with frustration.

You had a feeling you weren’t the only one who had dealt with this. And you also had a feeling that you couldn’t stay here while you investigated further. As if this was going to stop you.

You just had to find another way.

***

You stared at apartment listings, trying to figure out a new place to stay. Unfortunately, so many things were outside of your budget. Maybe if you skipped a meal every other day?

“Tell me what happened.”

You blinked and looked at Charles, who had managed to sit next to you without you realizing. You were so deep into your house hunt that you hadn’t paid attention to what was around you. Perhaps it was because you felt safe here.

Perhaps it was because Charles was here that you felt safe.

He slowly reached for you, his fingers touching your shoulder. “Who hurt you?” he asked, gentler this time.

You reached up to your throat; your scarf had slipped down a bit, revealing the bruises around your neck. Looking down, you answered him in a soft voice. “The ODB MC.”

“Fuck.”

You looked up quickly. He had spoken with such hard anger that you were surprised to hear it from him.

You took a deep breath and told him what had happened last night.

At the end of your story, he took your hand in his big ones, making you feel small, but protected in his grasp.

“Do you have a friend you can stay with? You can’t stay there, it isn’t safe.”

You shrugged. “Not really.” The few friends you had lived far away. Family was far away too. You were stuck.

He squeezed your hand. “Stay with me. I can sleep on the couch, but I’ll sleep better knowing you’re safe.”

You blinked. He was offering his room for you? “Charles, I couldn't impose—”

“You wouldn’t be imposing. Please.”

Looking at his serious face, you nodded, accepting his offer. You had the feeling that if you refused, he was going to pick you up right there and then and keep you in his room anyway. There was an intensity to his protectiveness that stirred your heart, made you want him to lock you away.

He smiled. “Thank you. I’ll help you when you’re done here.”

***

That afternoon, he had his barista hold down the fort while he helped you pack up some of your essentials; you weren’t planning on staying with him for more than a week, but he let you know that you were welcome to stay for as long as you needed to. 

You had told your landlord that your place had been broken into and that the lock would need to be fixed. When he saw your bashed-in TV, he said nothing, solidifying your theory that he had turned a blind eye to the MC when they had walked through here. He knew, and he wasn’t going to do anything about it, which pissed you off even more.

***

Charles carried your two duffel bags full of your stuff up the stairs in the back of the cafe to his apartment. On the way to his place, he had told you a little more about the downtown area where he and his friends lived and worked. One of his friends, John, was happily married with a daughter and owned a flower shop close to the clock tower that served as the town center. His other friend, Arthur, worked at the local tattoo shop, but lived elsewhere. A lot of the businesses in the renovated part of downtown were live-work spaces, so Charles had his little loft apartment above his cafe.

“Makes the commute pretty nice,” you remarked as you followed him up the stairs.

“Yup. Have to be sure to at least put a shirt on though, or I get yelled at,” he said with a laugh. He had mentioned his barista was like a little sister to him, and that he was lucky to have her. He mentioned having put the idea in her head to go out with Arthur, and was happy they had gotten together. You wondered at his observation skills, to see to the heart of someone and what would make them happy.

Would you make me happy?

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

Chapter 2 is next!

Tagging @mrscharlessmith @fangirl-ramblings @eeeasyguuurl

[imastrangeone98]

A Gentle Touch

(A/N: behold! my first one shot! :D there may be more, there may be less. this is my first time writing for the mandalorian (Star Wars in general) and I haven’t thought about a full fledged story... yet. also I'm still working on my dmc story that no one reads sob and my bnha storyline is coming together. after I publish chapter 12 for lost and found Ill get to work on the first chapter)

(ps this is also my first time writing smut. I was dared to by a friend. this is for you [you know who you are ;)]

WARNING: (probably) unrealistic sex. also (definitely) unsafe sex. (I never had sex before, but you should probably use a condom- that’s important. safe, sane and consensual amirite?) and highly unrealistic description of spaceships and lack of Star Wars knowledge

and the oc I created (I got it off a Star Wars name generator XD) is kyla baize. maybe I’ll make a thing for her after I come up with a story to use her in. and for the purpose of this story, I’ll assume that mando’s age is around his late 30s- he and kyla met around their late teens. and this probably takes place post-ep8

Din Djarin knew very well of the life he would live the second he swore The Creed. It would be one of solitude, and silence, and the cold beskar that covered him head to toe. In all honesty, he was comfortable with it...

...For the most part.

But as he sat in his seat at the cockpit, watching his medic fuss over the Child with a sweet smile on her face, he couldn’t help but wonder if The Creed was truly worth upholding.

“There, there, little one,” Kyla cooed, her smile growing wider when the Child stretched his arms towards her. “You seem sleepy. It must be time for bed!”

The Child whined slightly, but made no further protest when she scooped him up and cuddled him into her arms. She glanced towards Din, giving him a light smile. “I’ll put him to bed and set the coordinates. How about you go down and get some sleep?”

He hummed in response, simply enjoying the sight in front of him. Twenty years they had worked together, yet she never failed to take his breath away. “I’ll set the coordinates. You get some sleep; you more than earned it.”

“So do you,” she retorted, rubbing the Child’s back. “You know what- hold that thought; I’ll be back.” She turned around and descended the ladder, clearly preparing to put the baby to bed.

For a brief moment, he saw it- a swollen belly, a slight waddle, a tiny infant’s face- a perfect combination of her and him. A boy or a girl? What kind of person would they become? A warrior like him? Or a healer like their mother?

And then he remembered- The Creed. He was a Mandalorian, a bounty hunter to the core. There would be no room for more children in his life, or more time for a lover.

He was meant to be alone.

But... His heart betrayed him. But...

“Are you alright, Din?” A hand- warm to the touch- rested on his elbow. “You seem out of it.”

Snapped out of his thoughts, he gazed up at her, unable to stop himself from marveling at her. With the helmet on, in the sunlight, in complete darkness, she was beautiful. “I was just thinking.”

“About?”

He froze. “About...”

“Is it about today? What happened in Nevarro?” She frowned, lightly squeezing his elbow.

“...Yeah.” She wasn’t entirely wrong, but it still wasn’t fully right. “You could’ve died. You and the Child. I-“ His words got caught in his throat, and he almost choked. “I could’ve lost you.”

Kyla let out a small hum before sitting at his feet, resting her head on his knee. She gave him a smile, full of reassurance and hope. He stared just a tad too long at her lips. “But you didn’t. I’m still here, and so is the Child. You could never lose us, even if you wanted to.”

“But still, I...”

She rested a hand on his own. “I know. After Kuiil and IG-11...” A frown briefly made an appearance on her face; he wanted it gone. “We lost good people today. It was already hard when they died; I can’t imagine how I’d feel if you...”

She didn’t finish the thought. She didn’t need to. He knew fully well what she was going through.

But then she wiped the stray tears from the corners of her eyes and smiled again. “So I won’t imagine it. I’ll focus on the fact that you’re still here, alive and breathing. And I’m not going to mope anymore. They gave their lives so we could live ours, and I’ll honor them by living the best one I can.”

Din couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped his mouth. She always knew what to say to make everyone feel better- he was no exception. “You’re right.”

“I know,” she teased, rubbing the side of his helmet in lieu of his cheek. He wished he could take it off. “Don’t overwork yourself; get some rest. You still have your head injury to consider.”

“Maybe later.”

She sighed, then shook her head. “You Mandalorians, I swear... Alright, but if the lights aren’t turned off in 30 minutes, I’ll make you rest.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

She grinned. “I have my ways.” Rising from the floor, she dusted herself off before resting a hand on the top of his helmet. “I’ll see you in the... morning? Something? Later.” With a shrug and a light laugh, she descended the ladder, and he could hear the sound of her cabin door sliding shut.

I have my ways.

When he turned back to the controls, he couldn’t stop the blush burning his cheeks.

He was glad for his helmet.

[...]

With the Razor Crest on autopilot, Din climbed down to the cargo hold to check on his clan.

His clan of three. The mere thought of those words had a bloom of heat blossoming in his chest.

Once more, the image from before entered his mind- a heavily pregnant Kyla waddling around, with the Child eagerly following her every move. He could see her lying in bed with her arms around her stomach, so sweet, so innocent-

He saw her face twist in pleasure, watched her clutch the ratty blankets as he continued to thrust into her warm, willing body, watched as his cum seeped out of her tight, wet-

He froze.

Fuck.

He immediately changed direction, heading straight to the refresher. A cold shower was in need if he planned on getting any sleep tonight.

[...]

He couldn’t sleep.

The nightmares had gotten worse. More faces swam in the inky darkness of his own mind- his mother and father, Kuiil, even that ridiculous IG unit...

But now, it was the Child, its tiny, limp body tossed aside by that Devaronian, Burg, who roared in sadistic laughter before turning his attention towards-

Towards-

He watched helplessly as Kyla cried out in pain, her hair tangled in the red bastard’s hands, watched as he began slamming her repeatedly into the ground, screamed and begged for him to stop, to torture him instead, and-

And he did, but she slumped to the ground; and as he finally gained back control over his body and scrambled his way over to her, he gazed into her glassy eyes and held her lifeless body close to his chest-

And screamed again when he saw his hands were stained red, and screamed and screamed and-

He jumped out of his bunk and stumbled out of his room, through the darkness of the Razor Crest (with no helmet- no one could see him anyway) and towards her room, making no attempt to be quiet. He slammed his hand on the door, begging for her to let him in, just please, Maker, let him in-

“Din? Is that you? What’s-“ Kyla stopped mid-sentence the moment he pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, sobs escaping his chest. “Are you alright?”

He didn’t answer, settling for burying his nose in the crook of her neck and breathing in her scent- sweet Bantha milk and cinnamon. She smelled alive.

“Din...” she murmured, rubbing small circles on his back. “It’s okay. I’m okay, I promise.”

Fuck, she felt so alive in his gloveless hands, so warm-

His lips ran over her throat and he pressed them against her skin, laving his tongue over her pulse. Fuck, she tasted like heaven-

He bit down. Hard.

She jumped, a small squeak squeezing past her lips. He wanted to hear more of it. “Din, are you-?”

He hummed as his lips traveled upward- brushing against her jaw and her cheek before resting against her mouth.

He pressed closer, so close that there was no space between them. And their lips remained locked together, even as he began to maneuver themselves towards the bed.

“Din!” she gasped as they fell onto the clunky mattress, only to be quickly replaced with the sweetest moan to ever grace his ears as he ran his hands down her sides until they rested on her hips. “Din, please-“

He shushed her, stripping her of her sleeping shorts and underwear and marveling at the soft skin of her inner thighs under his calloused palms. “Fuck, you’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”

“Din, you can’t even see me...”

“I don’t need to. I already knew; I’ve always known.” Leaning down to press a kiss on her thigh, he nosed his way down to the apex, unable to stop the moan rumbling out of his chest as he breathed in the smell of her body. She smelled so alive, so mouthwatering-

He couldn’t help himself- couldn’t stop himself, even if he wanted to. Without hesitation, he dragged his tongue over her slick entrance and delved deep, eager to elicit more of her sweet noises.

“Din!” she cried out, her fingers burying themselves in his hair. “Don’t- don’t stop, don’t ever stop-“

But he did. With a final, indulgent lick of her delectable cunt, he traveled upward, pausing for a few seconds to rip off her shirt, blatantly ignoring her weak protests and effectively silencing them with a swift kiss. She shivered underneath him, her soft moans smothered with his tongue as it tangled with her own.

With a free hand, Din stripped himself of his pants and positioned himself between her legs, but a warm hand rested on his shoulder.

“You didn’t get to...” she mumbled, voice dripping with pleasure. He could get drunk off the sound of it. She tugged off his shirt; he didn’t complain. “I wanna make you feel good too.”

“Maybe next time,” he whispered; his heart swelled with utter adoration. “But right now, I just need this. Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she breathed out, her hands intertwining around his neck.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes. Please; I want you.”

And with her reassurance, he slowly pressed himself into her...

Well...

He really did try to go slow. He really did. But the second his tip pressed into her velvety warmth, he saw galaxies dance across his vision- and he was done for.

With a quick snap of his hips, he sunk down to the hilt. Kyla gasped, hands moving to his shoulders as she squirmed underneath him in an attempt to adjust.

Don’t move yet, he managed to tell himself. Let her breathe first.

But fuck, it was so hard. Even as he buried his face into her neck in an attempt to ground himself, her scent only took him higher, far past the edges of the galaxy, far past any star system, far past the universe.

“Din,” Kyla murmured. Fuck, he loved when she said his name. “You can move.” She rolled her hips, and his cock sunk in just a tad deeper.

Maker, he felt that.

Immediately, he began to thrust into her, and he was, again, struck dumb by how utterly warm she was, how divine she felt around him.

“Fuck, so tight,” he growled out, sinking his teeth into her neck, never losing his rhythm. “How- how are you so goddamn tight? Fuck, it’s like you’re made for me-“

“I’m yours,” she sobbed, her head pressed into his chest. “I’m only yours, Din-“

Her words sent a sharp jolt running through his body. Instantly, he grabbed her legs and threw them over his shoulders, absorbing her ever-increasing moans as he delved further into her warm, wet cunt.

“Kyla,” he breathed out; his black vision was starting to turn white at the edges, and at the center of it all, he saw her. “You’re my everything. You’re my sun, my moon, the stars in my sky-“

“Oh, Din...” she croaked, leaning upwards just a tad to press a kiss to his skin.

“My world revolves around you,” he moaned into her ear. “My sweet goddess, I’m yours- everything I am is yours-“

She tightened around him. He swore; comets soared underneath his eyelids, and he could just see her beautiful eyes- eyes that shone brighter than any star.

“I love you, Din,” she cried, her grip around his neck tightening just slightly. “I love you with all I have, IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou-“

And with a broken shout, they came, each whispering the other’s name, raw love embedded in every syllable, laced in the air they breathed, soaked in their skin.

And as they laid together, limbs tangled so thoroughly that neither could tell where one ended and the other began, Din knew- deep in his heart- that there was no need for fear.

She was here, with him, in his arms, tiredly and lovingly stroking the edges of his face, mapping out every crease and line in his skin, fingers tracing his lips.

“I love you,” she repeated, and he didn’t need his sight to know that she was smiling at him.

She felt warm. She felt alive.

“I love you,” he whispered, caressing her cheek and leaning down to kiss her.

She made him feel so, so alive.

———————————————————————

A/N: my god this is the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written and will probably ever write.

Help me I need to bleach my eyeballs with holy water-

[softbiker]

Born to Run - Chapter 2

Warnings: some language, secondhand embarrassment

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: What a gif to use amirite ;) Thank y’all so much for your responses to the first chapter! It was so encouraging, which is why I’m 2 chapters ahead on the writing for this fic lol. So keep telling me what you think! <3

“We have a few appointments set for today,” Charlotte, the front desk nurse, was saying. “But they’re just wellness checkups, so nothing crazy.”

Y/N nodded, tucking a pen into the pocket of her lab coat. “So these are regular patients?”

Charlotte nodded. “Yep, the usual. It’s a small town, so you’ll see the same faces plenty while you’re here.” She sipped water from her large tumbler as she pulled a floral desk calendar from under her keyboard. “But we also provide some urgent care services, since it’s a 30 minute drive to the nearest emergency room. So don’t be surprised when we get some walk-ins.”

“That’s alright I guess,” Y/N shrugged. “Good to stay busy.”

To say she was nervous about her first real day as a real doctor would be an understatement. Sure, she wouldn’t have many patients - not in a primary care clinic in the middle of nowhere - and the stakes were probably low, but still. She had tossed and turned the night before, eventually hopping out of bed at 5:00 am and slipping her running shoes on. Jogging through her little neighborhood and down the highway for an hour or so before dawn had transferred her first day jitters into adrenaline, but she couldn’t distract herself now. This was the real deal.

But it turned out the real deal moved at a glacial pace - at least in a town like this. Y/N saw a grand total of 5 patients, all of whom were in mostly good health, with the exception of one boil that needed lancing. The rest were just fine, a bit chatty when they met their new doctor, undoubtedly a subject of town gossip. They were eager to fill her in on the local news and suggest churches and social clubs for her to try. She nodded and made noncommittal comments to every invitation. No unscheduled patients had wandered in either, so she had far too much down time to sit in her office and refresh her inbox, waiting for emails from friends and former colleagues as they all settled in to new lives and new cities and new hospitals. None came.

Y/N sighed as she climbed into her car, and leaned her head back against the seat. Doing nothing was almost more exhausting than being busy. She just wanted to get home, pour a glass of wine, and lay around on her couch. And eat dinner. Which she would have to cook...with groceries she didn’t have. Fuck.

Grocery store it is.

Even a remote town like this one managed to have a Walmart somehow - not a huge one, but big enough to have the necessities. The fluorescent lighting made the inside of the store look dingy and gray, desperately in need of a remodel. Y/N pushed her cart up and down the aisles, grabbing items at random now that her growling stomach made everything look appetizing. She made sure she had quick ingredients for the night’s dinner - a simple chicken spaghetti, a mouthwatering recipe from her best friend.

She turned up the baking aisle, ready to head back to the front of the store. While mentally calculating the time left standing between now and her dinner, a box on the right caught her eye. Top shelf. Brownie mix. Supreme fudge. Oh hell yeah.

The shelf seemed a little high at first glance, but surely they wouldn’t put common items like brownie mix out of reach of the customer? Y/N left her cart parked in the middle of the aisle and stepped up to the shelf, lifting up on her tiptoes and stretching her arm as far as she could. The tips of her fingers could just touch the bottom of the box, but it wasn’t enough to get a grip on it. Tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, she strained harder, her other hand gripping the lower shelves for support. No dice.

A little grunt of frustration passed her lips and she stepped back, hands on her hips. Now it was just a matter of pride - she couldn’t just give up and walk away from these brownies. That was more pathetic than buying them and eating the batter alone in her kitchen, which was her original plan. With a sigh, she stepped back up to the shelf and jumped, trying to knock the box over into her hand. The first attempt failed, as did the second, but on the third she managed to tap the box enough to make one corner stick out a quarter inch over the edge of the shelf. Just as she was preparing for one last jump to claim her prize, she heard a throat clearing behind her.

She whipped around, feeling exposed as she had left her dignity behind before the first desperate hop for her brownie mix. Her cheeks burned even hotter as she met the eyes of her witness...her very tall, handsome witness. Broad shoulders under a buttery soft leather jacket, his long hair brushing the collar and

Oh shit that’s my neighbor

“Um,” he smiled, shifting his weight. “Do you need some help with that?” He gestured to the frustrating box on the top shelf.

Y/N’s brain needed a moment to catch up - she hadn’t yet seen him this close, hadn’t heard his voice, hadn’t seen him at all since that one moment in the driveway on the afternoon she arrived. He was a lot to take in.

“Yeah, uh sure,” she backed up from the shelf and pointed. “It’s that one. The, um, ‘supreme fudge’ kind.”

His smile widened (was that a dimple?) and he stepped forward, easily reaching up and plucking the mix from its place. Y/N forced her eyes away from his abs as his t-shirt lifted away from the hem of his jeans. When he turned back and offered her the box, his bright blue eyes were on her face.

“Here you go. One supreme fudge,” he teased, smirk creeping up the side of his mouth. Y/N took the box with both hands and held it to her chest.

“Thanks, you’re a real life-saver,” she laughed, self-conscious.

“And here I thought that was your job?”

Y/N’s brow wrinkled, until he nodded towards her clothes and she remembered she was still wearing her scrubs.

“Oh! Right,” she wrinkled her nose in embarrassment. “Well, I definitely didn’t save any lives today, so. You’re doing better than me.”

“Hm. I doubt that.”

The conversation lulled, but he stayed planted in front of her cart. He settled his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, seeming to have no intention of leaving. Y/N took a deep breath and forged ahead.

“It’s...Mr. Barnes I think? I’m sorry I never got a first name.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Oh, it’s just, uh, just Bucky. How’d you know…?”

“Oh, Mr. Van Horn told me you were my neighbor when he gave me the keys the other day. I’m living in his mother’s house -”

“Across the street, yeah!” he blurted, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “That’s how I recognized you, I just couldn’t place it.” He shook his head, laughing at himself. “God, I’m sorry, must’ve seemed rude, I didn’t even introduce myself or ask your name.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she waved him off, sticking her hand out and giving him her name, still relishing the ‘Dr.’ title. “But you can just call me Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, his grip gentle but firm. His eyes flicked back and forth between hers, bright and searching. He took a breath to say something else, when his gaze shifted, locking on something behind her. His posture stiffened and he jerked his hand back, jaw tightening.

“See you around,” he said coldly, shoulder bumping hers as he strode past her down the aisle. Y/N turned in confusion, trying to see what had changed his mood so abruptly. But the only thing she could see at the end of the aisle was a discarded candy wrapper, soon crackled under Bucky’s heavy boot. Then he was gone.

Y/N’s lips pursed in a frustrated pout. Two strikes Barnes.

That night, as she sipped wine from her grandma bed in her grandma house, she scrolled through social media on her phone in a vain attempt to feel close to her friends. Engagement, pregnancy, travel, engagement. Scoffing, she tossed her phone to the side and hunkered down in the bed. She stared at the popcorn ceiling, tiny glitter particles glinting in the lamplight. The wine in her glass was drained to the last drop and she twirled the stem absentmindedly.

She went over the scene in the baking aisle again and again, wondering if she had said something wrong and offended Bucky somehow. His dismissal was just so strange. On a whim, she snatched up her phone again and typed his name into Facebook. A few Bucky Barnes’s, but none that looked like him. She tried Instagram and Twitter with the same result. No social media presence, in this day and age? So fucking strange.

Outside the house, an engine started up, revving a couple of times before the sound retreated down the street.

Good riddance.

[halfgap]

Beau/Jester/Fjord 43

[AO3]

“That was the worst joke I’ve ever heard.”

“Wow, really?” Beau mimed a wince. More blood gushed from hersplit brow. “The absolute worst? That’spretty harsh, considering the puns we’ve heard come out of Fjord’s mouth.”

“Okay, fine,” Jester amended, trying very hard to keep hervoice from trembling. “Fine, maybe second or third worst because Fjord’s jokesare pretty bad.”

“Now, that’s not quite fair.” Fjord’s voice was trembling, low and shuddery, and itwas so unlike him it made Jester even more frightened than she already was. “Theheart of a good joke is all about timing, all right? And this is so not the fucking time, Beau.”

Here his voice broke into jagged pieces. Jester realized,with a numb, unpleasant jolt in her chest, that he was crying. She was too, ofcourse, she’d been crying for the past hour, but somehow Fjord crying made it all so much worse. They were both kneeling onthe ground, Beau lying on her back between them, purple sunset reflected in hereyes. Jester was afraid to touch her. Beau was barely more than a pile ofoozing wounds and broken bones and crass words, trying so hard to comfort thetwo of them even now. She wasn’t crying.

They had no spells, no potions, no nearby Caduceus, and Beauregardwasn’t crying.

“Aw, come on, man,” she said instead. “Pull it together. TheRaven Queen comes for us all. Some of us just have the skills to make her comea little faster, amirite?” Beau tried for a raunchy smirk, but the effect wasruined by red-brown blood smeared across her teeth.

“You are such an asshole.”Jester managed a wobbly, watery smile. “But you’re our asshole. You’re notallowed to just fucking leave!”

Fjord grabbed Jester’s hand, squeezed it tight, laid hisother shaking hand on the bandages she’d wrapped around the gaping wound inBeau’s torso. They were already soaked through.

“What Jessie said. You won’t get off that easy, first mate.”

Beau chuckled; it was unbearably weak, brittle. “Heh, you…you said ‘get off.’”

“You’re bloody fucking impossible, and disgusting,” helaughed through his tears. “So, please, be impossible and disgusting here with us, all right? Captain’sorders.” He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s only… it’s only a fewcuts and scrapes, after all. You’re a badass monk, so—so shake it off, dammit.”

“It’s okay, you guys,” Beau murmured. Her voice grew fainterwith every word. “’M not scared or sad, or anything. Always knew it’d end thisway.”

Jester was crying so hard she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t getthe air to flow into her lungs right, and she was gripping Fjord’s hand so hardshe was scared she would break his fingers. But she couldn’t let go because ifshe let go, she’d fall apart entirely, and she couldn’t do that to Beau, notnow, not when she—

Carefully, shakily, Beau took Jester’s other hand. She liftedit to her lips, and Jester didn’t even care she was smearing blood and dirt allover her knuckles.

“I told y’all from the very beginning, didn’t I?” Beau whispered.“I said I’d lay down my life for you guys.” She sighed, smiled. “’M so fuckingglad that was one thing I could follow through on.”

“You always followed through, Beau,” she said, tangling theirfingers together. “Fucking always.” Jesterwas the only one who couldn’t fucking keep her promises. She promised she wouldheal her back, and here she was—useless to the end, watching Fjord cry and Beaubleed out, helpless to do a thing about any of it.

Fjord gave Jester’s hand another aching squeeze, like hecould read her thoughts, like he forgave her. But he kept his eyes trained onhis first mate.

“Don’t talk like throwing away your life is doing us anygood,” he said fiercely. “Jester needs you. I—I fucking need you, too.” Heclenched his teeth, bared the tusks they’d convinced him to grow out. “I can’tpunch ghosts like you can, Beau. So if you die, I’m—I’m not long for thisworld, either, you hear me? I’ll be obliged to come after you so I can kickyour bony ass, ghost to fuckin’ ghost.”

“I’m not gonna get left behind by you two bitches,” Jestercut in, sniffling. “That’s so fucking unfair, oh my god. You know I have really bad FOMO.”

“Holy shit,” Beau mumbled. “You guys are so fucked up. Theabsolute worst jackasses.”

“But you still love us, right?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes fluttered shut. “Yeah, I do. Guess that makesme the jackass queen, huh?”

She lowered her hand still twined with Jester’s, letting themfall against Fjord’s hand resting on her blood-soaked stomach. Brown, blue,green all tangled and twisted together on a pool of dark red. A wild, delirious corner ofJester’s mind wondered if she even had enough paint colours to draw this in herjournal.

They stayed there like that, locked together and choked withgrief until the final rise and fall of Beau’s chest. Until Beau’s hand grewcold, and Fjord’s tears dried crusted on his face, and Jester’s knees screamedfrom kneeling in the dirt for hours and hours. Fjord unfroze first, and when hepulled his hands away and got unsteadily to his feet, the empty, yawning pit ofloss that hollowed out Jester’s ribs finally became real.

He stepped toward her.

“We’re gonna be completely fucking selfish about this, aren’twe?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Good.”

No matter what Beau insisted, they would not let this be theend.

Fjord placed two gentle, bloodied palms on Jester’sshoulders. Gradually, painfully, she relearned how to breathe.