#and I've apparently gotten more daring with colours

[qwertyprophecy]

A second commission of Moxie, over a year later. How she's grown!

[plscallmeeren]

HIS ASSISTANT

Severus Snape x Reader

Request: yep, by @Chloelouise02

Summary: (Y/n) was Snape's only friend back in their time at Hogwarts, but they had a falling out just before they graduated so he doesn't know how to feel now that she had been appointed as his assistant. This takes place during the golden trio's third year, or, more specifically - in their first lesson.

Warnings: a swear word or two?; dementors; shouting; pretty much just fluff

Word Count: 1.7K+

"Clean up that mess", he drawled lowly, and for the hundredth time that week I fumed at his attitude.

"Magic word?", I seethed, not moving a muscle to reach for my wand.

"If you wanted me to Imperio you, you could just say so", even through all this I heard his suppressed smirk that I would have loved to see after all this time, but apparently wasn't worthy of.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes in disbelief, and was inevitably reminded of our past shared moments. I'm not sure if it made me sad or happy thinking about. Maybe nostalgia is meant to have both.

"How about the other one?"

After a very long and over-dramatic sigh he gave in, boosting my serotonin levels drastically, at least that's what I think this feeling was.

"...Please."

"See? Was that so hard?" He didn't answer but his expression suggested it was indeed so hard.

I pulled out my wand reluctantly and swung the wood wordlessly, the puddle of rainbow-coloured failure vanishing in thin air.

I mean hey, at least it wasn't as bad as Seamus' rumored explosive draughts.

In fact, there were many rumours about all students of Hogwarts as well as teachers from other schools and Rosemary or someone of the likes from down in a Hogsmeade pub.

If I'm being honest, the teachers' room possessed more qualities of a gossip girls set-up, a talk show or a Comedy Drama movie than a teachers' room at all; but I wisely decided a while ago already to keep this to myself.

Severus apparently enjoyed the talk just as, if not more than anyone else, not that he would ever dare to admit it.

Sev...

It felt strange calling him Severus. It felt stranger calling him Snape, though, so to his dismay that's what he was going to have to put up with. We just weren't on good enough terms again for, well, honestly? Anything.

Now you may be wondering how we ended up like this. To keep it short: I'm the second-last week of our last school year he kissed me. And for whatever reason I kissed him back because apparently I had a stupid crush on him; but then he felt guilty because of Lily (am I a joke to him?) and just left and refused to talk to me again.

Great way to treat your best friend. Really. Wicked.

"Is it just my imagination or are you particularly moody right now? Because I could swear I made you laugh an hour ago and I've basically just lost all of my progress." His lip twitched upward as he positioned himself behind one of the front desks, but maybe it was a trick on the eyes.

"No. I am not moody. I am never moody. And I am most certainly not more moody than usual." Those were the most sentences I had gotten out of him in a row all day, but my accomplishment was quickly forgotten at the rubbish he had just made me hear.

"You're never- oh, I get it. I know you're not Mad-Eye. Believe me. You just haven't got the looks", I grinned, before my face fell and I grew serious for once.

"No, seriously. Have you got a bad relationship to the Potter kid or something? Everyone talks about him so much but never in relation to you. Is that it? Are you dreading him?"

I'm pretty sure if you held a really exact ruler to his eyes and you weren't shaking at the look he's giving me now, you would have seen they'd widened a couple of millimeters. But unfortunately I guess no one's gonna take over that job, are they?

He simply stayed silent until all the students had come in and positioned themselves at their desks, including the Potter boy, who was sitting next to who I think was a Weasley.

The lesson began and I watched in curiosity as his eyes flicked to Potter more often than not, although the possibility was still there that it was only because I had brought it up. I gradually regretted not saying so after the lesson more and more.

"This is my new assistant, Ms. (L/n). She will be helping me keep your dim-witted souls under control and prevent you from destroying anything as best as possible", he sent a sharpened glance at Finnigan as he said the last part, making the boy gulp. That has to count for something, right? He hadn't put it that way all the times he introduced me until now, so maybe he was warming up to me again.

I could tell the students wanted to start whispering, but their fear of Severus seemed to surpass even that.

Once he gave the assignment, however, and they started working, I heard my name mentioned in their conversations more often than i would have liked under any circumstances.

I can't believe how judged and pressured you can feel by a bunch of teenagers, even as an adult.

The amount of times it was suggested Sev and I were together or he had a crush on me or something was even more unsettling, yet aside from a casual blown up cauldron on Seamus' behalf the rest of the day went by rather eventlessly.

...

And so did the rest of the week. And the next. And the next. Although I did get rather invested in the drama of Mulligan's relationships, but who didn't?

The dementors on the grounds were becoming more and more annoying, and I was thoroughly sick of them to say the least.

One Saturday I dared to pass the lake and sit down on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. I wanted fresh air, and above all - I wanted to be completely undisturbed.

So, lying down on my jacket I pulled out Tiffany Aching: I Shall Wear Midnight and started reading.

I think I lay there for hours before something happened. Or more accurately, disturbed me.

The air grew cold fast but the wind stood still, as if balancing in the tip of its toes, threatening to plunge forward in one great gust.

As a familiar feeling of sadness invaded me it didn't take long for me to come to my senses and realize what was approaching me.

Dementors. Patronus. Quick. Now.

I spun around, just to look right into it's disgusting face - well, I wouldn't call it that, but then again, what else can one call it?

But before I could do more than draw my wand, before I could utter the words, before a clear thought could even fully pass through my head -

- someone else yelled the spell.

"EXPECTO PROTONUM!"

The voice was suspiciously familiar, so I wasn't all too surprised when I saw the figure of Severus standing on a rock, panting as he held out his wand. The questions that remained were why, how, where and when.

The dementor was being chased away by-

Something that couldn't possibly be true. Anyone who knew Sev - so, not many, I guess - knows that- no, it's can't be.

The figure of a tiger was attempting to pounce on the Dementor, which was gliding away as fast as seemed dementorly possible.

But- a doe- it can't be!

"What were you thinking!?", he raged, marching up to me, wand still raised, "Oh, yes, why not just lie around at the edge of the Forbidden Forest-"

"Severus-"

"-and read a book! Who cares about the dementors whirring around here like a pack of bees!"

"Severus!"

"And what-

"SEV!", I called, but he just yelled louder.

"How stupid are you!? You were never responsible, I guess that never changed, did it? I always have to fucking save you-" That's it.

"SEVERUS FUCKING SNAPE YOU WILL BE QUIET THIS MINUTE."

That seemed to do the job.

"Don't you go on about you saving me, and don't you dare try and embarrass me or something just because you felt embarrassed yourself back then when you were seventeen! How petty can you be? It was one kiss, I don't care!" My breath fell short as I shared the thoughts I had been dying to tell him. "And since when is your patronus the same as mine!?"

He stayed quiet yet again. God, I hate it when he does that. Well, no, I don't, but I hate it when he does it after I confronted him with something.

"I didn't-" Silence again.

"It's been a tiger since the day we kissed." He seemed to deem that enough said as he sulked and began turning away.

Oh, no you won't.

"Is it because you don't regret it?", I called, barely keeping control of my words at this point. "Because you still want to?"

He halted suddenly, whisked around in one motion, and walked up to me. He stood mere inches from me and for the life of me I couldn't tell whether he was about to yell at or kiss me.

The latter was the case.

He simply pecked my lips once before smiling slightly-

I repeat, smiling!

-and walking off yet again. But this time I didn't stop him. In fact, I didn't do anything much as I watched his cape hide him until he felt beyond the horizon.

And I had never minded as much as now.

———————————————————-

A/N:

Oh, to be an assistant...

This was fun, but my autocorrect is actually killing me. Like really. I have French, German, English and emoji keyboards on here and I'm pretty sure I'm gonna lose it

Like every time I'm writing in one language it is ALWAYS, I repeat ALWAYS in a different one.

Anyways, hope you liked this, I would appreciate every comment you can spare :D

-Eren

[gwenzone]

A/N: This is just a smut piece that I had in my head and figured I'd share. It's rated 18+ so don't read if you're a youngin'. If you do, that's your choice. ;) Note that I'm not a writer.

Warnings: Sex. It's basically just sex. As usual.

Pairing: Larissa Weems x reader.

Summary: You work at the school and have a thing for Weems. You tend to give her a hard time and feel she never notices you unless you do. Any attention is good attention, right?

Don't Tease The Prinicpal

Principal Weems was in her office working late. You walked into the room, forgetting to knock. Or maybe it was on purpose. Either way. She quickly closed her laptop when she noticed you. "Can't you knock?!" she snapped.

"Sorry," you said, unapologetically. "Didn't mean to interrupt your porn viewing. Just wanted to give you this message." You handed her a piece of paper.

"I was not looking at porn," she replied, her voice flustered. She looked at the message and placed it on the table. It was of no importance. Certainly not worth interrupting her for. "Is that all?"

You sat down in the chair across from her and made yourself at home. "You look way more attractive when you get flustered, you know." You grinned at her, knowing she hated when you said flirtatious things.

Deep down, you knew she liked it, even if she'd never admit it. She didn't get many people interested in her. Most people were afraid of her and didn't dare make a move. You found her dominance a turn-on, though. The more annoyed she got, the more she appealed to you.

"Are you quite finished?" she asked, pretending to straighten things up on her desk. "I have things to do here."

"Watch porn?" you quipped.

She slammed her hand down on the desk causing you to jump a bit. If you wanted her mad, you did it. She stood up, leaned her hands on the desk and practically lunged forward across it. You felt yourself lean back in your chair, even though she was still a safe distance away from reaching you.

"Do you think I don't know what you're up to, Y/N?" The reflection of the flames in the fireplace could be seen in her wide eyes. She was gritting her teeth in what could almost be considered a snarl.

"I don't--" you started, but were cut off.

"You've been taunting me like this since day one and I've had quite enough of it." Her expression changed slightly. It went from furious to curious, it seemed. "If you insist on continuing, I suggest you start acting on these thoughts of yours. Otherwise you're just wasting my time."

You were shocked that she was so forward. Had she wanted you to make a move all this time? Was it a trick? If you tried something, would she laugh in your face and humiliate you? "Are you being serious, right now?"

In a split-second, she swiped her hand across the desk, shoving everything aside and out of her way. She turned her back to you, sat on the desk and spun around, her legs lifting up and over the side of the desk, landing crossed in front of you. Those long, luxurious legs just dangling there off the front of the desk for you to see up close.

"Don't I look serious?" she asked. Her expression was that of a professional Poker player. If she were up to something, you'd never know it.

You were speechless. And she took advantage of that. She had you right where she wanted you. She knew you always had the upper hand, or so you thought. Now she was taking charge.

You were looking down at her ankles, then up the length of her legs and your gaze rested on her thighs. Her dress was tight. It showed off her shape just right. It was on the short side but not short enough for you, apparently. Your mind started to wander. What colour panties was she wearing?

"Let me make it easier for you," she said, as if having just read your mind. She uncrossed her legs and parted her knees several inches. She saw your eyes widen as they focused on her new position. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

All you could do was nod.

"My my, the cat seems to have gotten your tongue." She chuckled at the cleverly concealed pun. "Come here."

As if with no control over yourself, you quickly stood and got closer to her. You were not more than a foot in front of her now. She took your hand and placed it on her knee. She slowly slid it up under the fabric of her dress. "Is this what you want?" she asked.

Again, you nodded, unable to form words. You couldn't believe this was actually happening. You'd dreamed about it, fantasized about it, but never thought it would happen. Her leg was warm. And smooth like silk.

When she let go of your hand, you pulled it away. She furrowed her brow and scoffed. "You're not very confident now, are you?" She shifted herself on the desk a bit and pulled her dress up her legs more. She shook her head in disbelief that you still weren't making any attempt. "Okay, let's just get right to it, shall we? Otherwise we'll be here all night."

She pulled the dress up to her hips and lifted her bottom up off the desk. "Would you mind getting these?" she said, looking down at her black panties. Black. You knew it.

You quickly grabbed the sides of her underwear and slid them down her legs, then tossed them down on the floor beside you. It happened so fast but at least you finally did something.

She ran her finger along your lower lip. "You know what to do now, don't you?" A pause. "Get on your knees."

You did as you were told. You looked at her neatly trimmed bush. The firelight dancing on it in an inviting way. You wanted to do so many things at that moment, but you still couldn't believe what was happening. You were afraid you'd make a wrong move and wake up.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" she snapped, taking your head in her hands and shoving it between her legs.

At that moment, there was no going back. You found yourself immersed in this wonderful woman's most intimate area and you fell in love with the experience. As if on auto-pilot, you began doing everything right. Everything you'd ever imagined doing in this situation with her.

Your tongue licked the length of her slit. It swirled around her clit and darted in and out of her opening. The strong hold on your head that she first had was now more relaxed, but she didn't let go. She didn't wanna chance you stopping any time soon.

As you licked and sucked her most precious place, she started to moan. Granted, it was just a small sound, but it eventually got deeper, more guttural and more frequent. It was driving you to keep going. You loved hearing her make these sounds and it pleased you knowing she was making them because of you.

She grabbed a fistful of your hair and guided you to just the right spot. One of her legs wrapped around onto your back and pulled you even closer to her. She was exquisite in every way. Her smell, her taste, her sounds, everything.

When she was nearing her climax, she tilted her head back, pulled you harder against her, nearly smothering you, but you didn't mind. Not at all. You finished her off and knew by her mannerisms and noises that she was more than satisfied.

A moment went by before she released you and composed herself as best she could in the situation. "Be a good pet and fetch me my panties," she said as she stood and lowered her dress to its original position.

You picked up her underwear and turned to hand them to her when someone entered the room. You quickly shoved them into your pocket and turned to see who it was.

"Does no one knock around here?!" she shouted, as another employee of the school made his way in with a folder in hand.

"Sorry, Principal Weems," he said, handing her the folder. "I didn't think you were still here and I just wanted to put these papers on your desk so you'd have them tomorrow morning like you asked."

"Very well, you may go now." She tossed the folder onto the desk where she had cleared a spot previously. You noticed her casually pulling her dress down as she stood there. It looked fine, but she was obviously worried about the lack of underwear. Not that anyone could tell. You looked down at the floor and chuckled to yourself.

"You may go now," she repeated to the other person. When he turned to leave, she shot you a disapproving stare. He nodded good-bye to you on the way out and closed the door behind himself.

"Hand them over," she said, her hand reaching out to you.

"I dunno," you teased, "Maybe I'll just toss them into the fire and watch you walk around without them."

"The whole room would fill with smoke," she explained. "And I doubt anyone else will be coming in here tonight, anyway."

"Yeah, one person coming in here tonight was enough," you laughed. You handed her the panties.

"It's amazing how easily you can handle yourself when you want to," she said, putting her underwear back on and sorting herself out. "Yet when it comes time to perform, you're suddenly at such a loss and I have to control your every move."

You smiled. "Maybe that was my plan all along."

She made her way back around to her desk and sat down, thinking about what you had just said. A smile came across her own face and as she realized it had been your intention to be dominated by her. "Touché" she said, quietly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have porn to watch," she added sarcastically, opening her laptop back up and fixing the misplaced objects on her desk.

"Yes, ma'am," you answered, making your way to the door.

"Oh, and Y/N?" she added. "Be here tomorrow night at the same time." A slight smirk shone on her face to accompany a raised eyebrow.

You nodded with a grin and shut the door behind you, already counting down the hours.

THE END.

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

Top five things you've written and top five characters who deserved better ❣️

oh god, I feel like such a narcissist with fic questions lol but let's go with the mostly-shameless self-promotion (but also having to cut it down from like 80+ fics to 5 was really hard so how dare you lol):

to ashes (clint x reader) I know it's nowhere near finished and it's been dragged out forever thanks to my poor time management skills, but I love this story. It's no secret looking at my fics that I tend towards fluff and smut much more than angst, but this fic is so cathartic for me and I'm really proud that I've written as much as I have.

echo (tony x reader) again, an angst piece. but the response I've gotten to this fic has been so flattering and the fact that I've been able to affect readers as much as I apparently have is overwhelming to me as a writer.

kinds of love series (tony x reader) my first series (and affection was my first marvel fic) and the continued love I get for this series makes me so happy. a lovely reminder that I can actually write half decent stories lol.

colour me happy (wanda x reader) my first f/f fic and I still love it so much. It's soft and sweet and hot all at once (if I do say so myself) and it really helped build my confidence as a fic writer when it came to embracing the wlw side of my bisexuality creatively.

green light (clint x reader) I am not a dominant person, and writing this was so fun and challenging in a really great way and while it didn't get as much love as most of my other fics, I still really love it.

.

top five characters who deserved better:

wanda maximoff

natasha romanoff

tara maclay

daenerys targaryen

logan echolls

ask me my top five/top ten anything

[the-darklings]

╱ i only love it when you touch me, not feel me.

pairing: jean & clara verse: npfh word count: 3.1k+ warnings: nsft, bathroom/mirror sex (because that's who they are as people), rough sex (but they're both so into it I'm not sure it even counts), cockwarming. notes: so this was written all the way back in January but it's the first piece of what I considered to be the real beginning of their dynamic (which I've expanded upon in ASE) despite writing them a lot prior to this point. it's also the first time I ever tried to write from jean's pov so enjoy. this is not super explicit and more character exploration because apparently smut is good for those. as always, any feedback is loved and appreciated 🌿 ✨

He’s never cared much for his name.

Or, more accurately, never cared what sentiment it was spoken with. He’s heard his name being called lovingly, with hatred, suspicion, fear, and hatred alike. Moaned desperately and worshipped—latter he’s always preferred the most.

“I'm not going to touch you unless you beg.”

Clara, however, has an infuriatingly persistent ability to make him crave his own name. From her mouth specifically.

Jean could fuck her until she’s barely coherent and it still won’t be enough. This woman fights and fights, and doesn’t give him an inch of ground. All liquid flame and viciousness, and he can’t help but wonder where the hell she’s been hiding all this time.

With Camorra, a sly voice reminds him, Giovanni De Stefano’s deadly little matchstick. So good at death.

She is. She's a master at death and maybe that’s what makes this so fun, so good, and addictive. Why he irritatingly finds his blood burning whenever he sees her. Why he looks forward to every occasion their bodies touch. Whenever those dark eyes fixate on him and pin him in place, a monster deep down stirs, purrs at her presence. His desire is a monster with its own life, its own insatiable appetite for her.

Jean prefers when she pins him with her lithe body—eyes flashing and teeth bared, a powerful but dangerous package of hunger.

He had expected her to be meek. Broken. Especially after Tokyo. She’s proven to be anything but. Even at her worst, she’s still a sharpened blade. A danger, a promise of destruction. Damaged, certainly, but unbroken and unyielding. The more he learns about Tokyo the more his head rings with but one downright greedy thought.

The Viper hasn’t taken another lover since then. No one has touched her or tasted her since her rebirth. No one has fucked her, brought her to the edge, made her moan and shudder. Given her an escape and a release. Satisfied her.

No one knows the scrunch of her nose or the way her lips part softly. A whisper of air slipping free with every slow, lingering kiss against her throat.

Expect him.

His hips stutter at that thought. It always makes him feel good. To know that he alone has claimed some tiny part of her. Jean knows full well it’s only because she allowed him to claim it but that’s its own kind of buzz. He likes how she burns. How she yields only when she wants to. Liquid flame melting into his body like she was made to fit in his arms.

It’s sex at the end of the day. It doesn’t have to or even need to have meaning—he would know—but she makes it mean something. Emotions aside, she challenges him with such acute precision, he can’t help but come and meet her in the middle; an unending battle of wills. For all the dullness and predictability of their world, she’s a tempest, utterly untamed.

“And would you prefer if I begged?” he whispers against the shell of her ear, watching their reflection—the way they fit, the way she leans into him, trust, trust, trust, that he won’t let her fall, and they exist in these tiny victories. “Mmh? Ma vipére.”

He hums with a wolfish grin, his words throaty, pressing another greedy kiss against the back of her neck, then side, his lips dragging over her soft skin. “For you, I might,” he adds slyly, meeting her stare in the bathroom mirror again.

He might be losing, but she's losing quicker.

Clara doesn’t answer right away—a clever, careful thing that she is, his viper—and they watch each other for a moment, his pace slowing.

The bathroom door is closed, secured with one of her blades, they don’t need to rush but Jean wants to. He can savour her later, in their bed, where she’s his and his alone, where he can do everything to her. If only because he knows she’s no better. Because any scrap of pleasure she will return with an intensity that will leave him bloody.

She has in the past. His back is a colourful tale of her ravenous hunger. The Viper likes to mark him. It likely pleases her, to know she has her venom in his system in the form of her sultry whispers, kisses and moans. Blazing eyes and coil of her limbs around his.

Clara’s stare is, as usual, burning—an almost physical thing. Even like this, with him so deep inside her—and fuck if she isn’t hot, and slick, and welcoming in ways he quite remember fitting with others, and there've been plenty—she doesn’t lose her proud edge. She enjoys it, getting under his skin. Pushing him. Melting the ice, she once murmured with her mouth pressed against the taut skin of his lower stomach and sinking ever lower. Testing his self-control with her mouth wrapped around him, and her tongue searing and wet; a viper delighting in her poison spreading so effectively.

It does say something about his self-control because, despite the temptation, he doesn’t simply fuck into her until they’re both lost in pleasure so deep they can’t get out of it.

The skin of her chest is flushed, her swollen lips parted, her expression slacker with pleasure but she still stares him down.

His fingers sink into the cut of her hip, pushing her harder against the cold marble of the bathroom sinks, rolling his own hips, and it makes her shudder in his hold. So Jean presses another hungry kiss to her pulse, lets his teeth scrape against it, sucking on it. Prodding at the weak spot masterfully. He can be mean, too. She likes it when he is. Just as much as he likes it when she lets those sharper edges of hers out.

Her strong legs hold her upright but she clenches around him in reply and fuck, fuck, fuck, what is it about her?

All he wants to do is bend her over this fucking counter and fuck her until she’s screaming his name. Not that it would do him much good. Clara is as likely to let him do it as she is to graze her blade across his throat for trying. He would be lying if he said the thought of that fight doesn’t thrill him, makes him want to try it anyway. He’s only managed to get a drop on her like this a few times. Sink himself into her from behind so deeply she hadn’t been able to shake him off till she was sated and panting with pleasure.

Then, of course, the viper had tightened her grip on him in return, paying him back in kind with her bite and her venom.

The bite he enjoys a little too much. The venom is becoming… a concern.

He’s worked for years to remove any ties, any weaknesses, from his life. No one can ever have anything on him. He’s the one with the web, he’s the one who controls others. Sly implication and whispers and they’re oh, so destructive but she…

Jean snaps himself inside her, pulsing and so hard he has to grit his teeth. Clara’s hand seeks purchase desperately, her fingers snapping behind herself. Breathing deeply, she lets her nails sink into the back of his neck—firm, near painful—and he hisses through his teeth, pulling away from the hollow of her neck.

“You would like it, won’t you?” he gasps into her ear, and her nails sink deeper, so he fucks her harder. His hips are merciless against the soft skin of her thighs. Yet Clara stands unmoving, near silently goading him with her resilience and coyness. She’s so fucking wet. He’ll need a cigarette after this, or three. “On my hands and knees, non? Vicious vipère. Give in first.”

“No.”

He almost laughs at that. At the caustic hiss of her voice. Of course, she won’t. It’s why even though he’s gotten her, it makes him wonder if he truly has. If he ever will.

The more he has her, the more he wants her. And it’s a dangerous thing. To want, to crave, to hoard her the way he does.

“Then I’ll just fuck you harder, chérie.”

He wraps around her tighter, nibbling on the shell of her ear, dragging his other hand between her thighs. He feels the muscle there, the strength, he likes those legs around his waist and head too. Usually when her taste is hot on his tongue and she’s a squirming, hateful mess above him, tearing at his hair as hard as she can while she grinds onto his face.

He sucks on the curve of her neck at the memory, nibbling, wanting nothing more than to mark her with his teeth as she marked him this morning. Crinkled eyes and a content smile when she curled around him after. A predator satisfied with her hunt.

She’s addictive.

Usually, it’s the other way around. Maybe still is. But he can’t let it go much further than this. A carnal need and nothing more than that.

If he knew about this, about her…

Jean doesn’t allow the thought conclusion.

She’s nothing, he repeats to himself with every push and every strangled exhale, just a means to an end.

She never once looks away.

Clara gazes at them, takes in the way he moves in her, her eyes hooded and intent. Daring him. Even after she confessed to him how that man used to watch her. How it made her abhor every touch, despise being watched. She watches him—them, joined, with his fingers hard against her clit, drawing more of those little gasps of pleasure that sound like music to him—and he can’t help but stare too.

He should take advantage of the weakness, prod it and scrub at it until he can bend her to his will, but he loves her fire too much. Covets it like a man starved—and they both are, aren’t they—starved for more. Each other.

He wants her. For more than just a quick fuck. More than just a means by which he can bury his problems. Just more, more, more. And it sickens him, but it also makes him feel strangely relieved as well, that realisation. The acceptance of it. He would never admit it to anyone but himself but he does. It forces him to feel raw, unbalanced. He hasn’t felt like this in years. He hates it but it also makes him feel high, alive.

In revenge, he sucks on the smooth skin again, lets his teeth bite and nibble, releasing her hip and burying his fingers in her pulled-back hair. Chestnut strands loosen in his iron grasp and he only does it because he knows for a fact she doesn’t have any sharp pointy metal hidden up there. He watched her get ready. Her graceful, supple body was an open invitation for him. A sight to admire, and he did. He worshipped her with his attention, letting her know without a word how every curve and every freckle of hers sang to him. Beguiled him further.

He pulls on Clara’s hair, forcing her chin upwards, at an angle, and she still defies him. Still glares and brims with power.

A strangled pant escapes her at the change of angle, in how he slams back into her, her nails slicing into his neck. Jean hopes she draws blood even if he would have to get creative about explanations later.

“Jean.”

It’s a breathy, bewitching thing—snaring him, pulling him deeper into her, and he audibly gasps a breath, feeling even more starved. Now he wishes to claim a litany of those tiny, appreciative exhales of his name. He feels the muscles in his lower stomach grow tauter with every thrust, with every taste of her skin, and the sounds of their shared pleasure.

They penetrate the air, echoing off the walls, and they are as animalistic and as intensive as the pleasure they create.

“What?” he groans appreciatively, their eyes still locked, and heat between them sweltering. She drives him insane. He’s removed emotional attachments from himself years ago—didn’t even realise he’s still capable of them—but nothing about her, them, makes sense. She’s the one thing he can’t predict or control. “What do you want? Tell me.”

Drive me to the edge, he wants to goad her, tugging on her hair again, and he manages to dislodge a moan from the back of her throat, push me, claim what you want.

“You,” she whispers in teeth-clenched defeat but to him, it’s a symphony. This time, he won. He knows she’ll get him back. Twice as badly most likely. But saints above, did he win? She’s so open and warm, the scent of jasmines and earth mixing with his cologne and musk of sex, and he pushes into her deeper till they’re completely pressed into each other. Moulded into one being. “You.”

He feels every tense muscle in her body, and his fingers slip from her hair, curving around her throat instead, and a flutter of a smile appears, coy and knowing.

Fuck.

The things this woman does to him.

He speeds the already merciless pace until she’s a shivering mess inside his embrace, clinging out of sheer stubbornness alone. Deeper, deeper, deeper—a cruel part of him is set on planting himself inside her very marrows, so she will never be able to feel or know another lover. Not even the Italian, a voice deep down snarls. It’s so wholly and truly selfish yet he craves it. If he is to lose this game between them, he will make her lose first. Make this need between them mutual until neither of them knows where one ends and the other begins.

Jean can’t look away from her, certainly not when pushes and pushes, not when he feels her throat bob under his hand as she swallows. Wanting and needing and trusting his touch. He feels her quivering, her muscles tightening, whispering to him that—

Her orgasm washes over her like a tidal wave—slow but so intense that for the first time, he feels Clara’s legs tremble. His hold on her constricts, steadying her, and his viper withers in his embrace, a beautiful undoing. He lets her ride her orgasm out, watching her mouth, her fluttering lashes, the bead of sweat clinging between the dip of her breasts.

It's then—watching her, memorising how she looks like this; relaxed and glowing—that his own orgasm finally overpowers him. For a moment, Jean finds himself robbed of sight because she washes everything away. He spills himself inside her, letting her feel his pleasure this time. He moans for her, splinters for her, lets the world fade away just for a moment.

This is his gift, he wants to tell her then, the fact that when it’s them, it’s just them alone. There’s nothing else outside of her and he’s never allowed another this close, not since…

But he can’t adequately put that into words for her, nor does he want to. She can’t know. He hopes there will never be a day when he has to explain everything to her.

If she knew him—saw all the festering darkness like a rotting carcass out in the open—she would hate him. It would be better if she did. Maybe her hatred would make it easier to let her go.

He can’t think of that right now.

Instead Jean sinks his teeth into the slim arch of her throat, savouring the appreciative gasp she releases, dragging her nails down the side of his neck. He promised her this morning he will return the favour sooner rather than later after all.

He laps at the bite with his tongue—heat, sweat, and remnants of her soap tingling his tongue—and looks up from beneath his lashes. Her eyes appear black with pleasure. He can barely see blue in his own.

Two monsters, a thought comes then, unbidden. It’s as pleasant as it is seductive. Mainly because he knows he’s right. Cut from the same cloth, sewn into being by similar hardships, and capable of such awful things.

He’s still semi-hard inside of her but his grip on her throat loosens—and the thought she trusts him enough to let him touch her like this is thrilling enough—his palm journeying downwards. Clara sighs quietly when his palm settles against her lower stomach, and he pushes gently, savouring the breathless gasp that follows. He has to choke one back himself. She feels like heaven. Or hell. A mix of both. Still, he keeps pressing, letting the pressure sit there, feeling himself twitching inside her. Them, joined together at the seams, and the heat between them overbearing. They could go again but he doesn’t want to move just yet. It feels good to be inside her like this; a promise of more gratification sitting snugly between them.

His nose drags up the length of her neck, and he buries his face in Clara’s hair, inhaling deeply. She’s wearing his favourite perfume tonight. Something warm and deep with jasmines blooming in his lungs. If it were her, she would go on a whole monologue, breaking each chemical ingredient down and every scent used in creating it.

He likes her distracted, mind-boggling dialogues. Then nearly scoffs at the mere thought. Since when? Since when does he give a shit about something like that? It serves no purpose to him and he doesn’t waste time on things that don’t.

Because it’s her, comes the sinking realization, because she says these things, so they matter.

Merde.

He tenses when her hand settles on top of his, pushing once, harder. Another soft sigh leaves her while Jean doesn’t bother biting back his groan of appreciation at the flare of fierce hot pleasure.

Clara’s mesmeric expression arrests something inside of him when he spots it. For a second, his vision blurs and the black dress drips into white, and she wears that same peaceful expression as she sinks into a river and doesn’t resurface. A dream that haunts him near-nightly now.

He blinks and then he’s back in the bathroom, his arms still around her. She’s here, with him, and his grip constricts further. He can make it work. He’ll find a way.

When has he ever compromised?

She means nothing, he tries to convince himself once again now that he’s back from his high.

But as he peers her—tiniest of smiles on her face, her freckles a roadmap for him to re-examine, loose strands of dark hair framing her flushed cheeks—a voice scratches itself from deep inside his chest.

A voice he hasn't heard in years, not since he called somewhere earthier and greener his home.

Liar.

an: head empty, just them. I could go on about them for five calendar months but hope you all enjoyed this little peek inside his head. ASE does contain Jean's pov so you'll def be seeing/learning more about him outside of just smut dfjhgdfg

[ask-brainysmurf]

Greetings Brainy Smurf.

Spring is near, winter is coming to it's end. Since Crystal was injured because of a dare Snappy made that she couldn't climb a big rock, she's been stuck inside. I've been very busy and haven't had much time to spend with her. We're on our way home. Or at least where home used to be. I've gotten used to having so many other Smurfs around me all the time. Herbal said we're only going home to collect our things and then move to Smurf Village since it's presumably safer.

I don't know how to feel about that. For so long there was only me, Crystal, Seeder, Berry and Herbal as Smurfs in the world that we knew of.

Another thing, I'm an artist. I like to paint, woodwork,sculpting and pottery. Though I would be open to learning more art forms in the future.

Another thing. Why are there so many rules in Smurf Village? Papa Smurf says it's for safety but I don't know if I trust him yet. I've seen him injure other Smurfs before. He doesn't know that though. Herbal has never hit us and it's strange and uncomfortable and it makes me scared of Papa Smurf to an extent. I'm scared he will try to parent me when that is Herbal's job. He already lectured Crystal even though Herbal did so before him. He has tried to include us when he is reading to Snappy, Slouchy,Nat and Sasette on the other smurf.

I like Nat at least, he's not as loud as Snappy or as slow as Slouchy. Sasette is better since she learned better how I can communicate. She's more straightforward with how she's feeling with me and that's good. Though her catch phrases can be hard to understand at times.

Clumsy apparently came to visit Crystal yestersmurf. Probably talking about rocks. Crystal has this ability to make rocks and stones glow whatever colour she wants. I used to be jealous of her but we talked it out.

Papa Smurf has also been muttering about this ability for weeks now and I can't figure out why. Do you know since you know more about magic than I do?.

Sincerely

Colourful Smurfling

Dear Colourful Smurfling,

I didn't know that she climbed the rock because of a dare. That was very unsmurfy of Snappy Smurfling to do, and I hope Papa Smurf disciplined him appropriately.

I understand the confusion in meeting new Smurfs with strange customs, especially when you thought no other Smurfs were around. That's how I smurfed when I met the girls of Smurfy Grove. I don't smurf what I would have done if I'd had to move there!

Papa Smurf knows best, and his rules help protect the village and keep us Smurfs safe. As long as you aren't causing any trouble, there's no reason to be afraid of him! My version of Papa Smurf tends to be a lot less strict with newer additions to our village than he is with the original 95, but I'm not sure about the Papa you know. I would recommend talking to Herbal about your concerns, so she (he?) can talk to Papa and make it clear that although Papa may be in charge of the whole village, Herbal is the one in charge of you Smurflings. Perhaps if Papa has a problem with one of you, he can talk to Herbal about it, and Herbal can deal with the problem. Delegation and all of that smurf.

I'm glad Clumsy came to help out and keep Crystal company. He's so sweet and compassionate that way. As for Crystal's magic, it seems to be something on smurf with the magic Baby has, so it only makes sense Papa Smurf would be curious about it. It's a very curious thing.

Thank you for the letter.

Sincerely,

Brainy Smurf

[mrsseverussnape]

Love Is You - chapter 11

A/n: hopefully this is gonna be posted… It was very stormy and the power is off for hours because of it. I tried to create a moodboard and i am trying to post it but even my own data is not working very well, the storm was that bad and probably damaged something… I deserve some comments after trying that hard to post that😂

    Christmas was around the corner, but Scarlett wasn't as excited as she used to be even it was her favourite time of the year. She was planning to celebrate it with her kids but apparently, they had other plans which she found out quite late. Sirius has invited Leo and Remus over for a boys Christmas celebration and Carina would celebrate it with her boyfriend's family this year. Actually both of the kids have offered to stay with her but she didn't want to ruin their plans for her own enjoyment. Then Scarlett thought to spend the day with her parents just like the old days but it turned out they have already booked a holiday, they would be in Switzerland during Christmas week. So this plan has cancelled too for her. Normally she wouldn't mind staying alone but on special days she would like to have a company, especially this year she needed it more. Scarlett thought if she could invite someone over for Christmas but she didn't have many friends and the ones she had already married and would celebrate it with their families or they were living in abroad. Then one possible person came to her mind but she wasn't sure if he had someone special to celebrate the Christmas with. But she wanted to give it a try and wrote a letter to Severus and invited him over for dinner.

    Christmas had a special place in their relationship. They have started dating on December, couple of days prior Scarlett's 18th birthday then she has invited him to her house for Christmas break when she found out he would stay at Hogwarts and with that he could meet with her parents. And the best memory of that Christmas was the present that Severus gave to her. He has got her a white British long hair kitten that she fell in love with immediately. Severus has gotten that idea since Scarlett was such a cat lady and actually she was a cat herself as an animagus, also she has told him about her late cat who passed away a year ago. Scarlett has named the new kitten Pearl and she has become basically their baby and in the summer of the same year they got another kitten together and named him Paul. The warm feeling of the memories made her smile, these happy memories has become her comfort zone lately.

    It was the Christmas evening and the kids were ready to leave while Scarlett was busy decorating a cake. Leo and Carina came to the kitchen to say goodbye to her.

"Mum the cake looks delicious but isn't it way too big just for you to eat?"

"I will have a friend over, i won't be alone."

"Oh you didn't mention that. Now we don't feel as guilty for leaving you alone. Who is coming?"

"Professor Snape."

The kids exchanged looks for a moment. They still haven't said anything to her about the trunk so she had no idea that they know about her past relationship with Severus Snape.

"It will be great for you two to remember good old days, I am sure you have missed them. Have fun!"

Scarlett looked at Carina rather suspiciously after what she just said. She was asking and talking a lot about Severus and her lately. "Thank you... Are you leaving?"

"Yep, take care and don't drink much mum."

"Okay mother." Scarlett rolled her eyes at her daughter. "You two have fun and say merry Christmas to everyone from me." She kissed their cheeks goodbye. "Love you."

"Love you too mum, bye!" Carina and Leo both apparated at the same time, leaving Scarlett by herself.

She did the final touches on the cake and put it in the refrigerator to set. Now she needed to get dressed before he came. Scarlett decided on a velvet bodycon dress which is off shoulder and its emerald green colour was complimenting her copper red hair beautifully. She brushed and styled her wavy hair and finally put her signature red lipstick. Scarlett looked herself in the mirror and enjoyed her view truly for the first time in a while. She hasn't dressed up fully for a long time and she has missed seeing herself like this.

    The knock on the door took her away from her thoughts. She rushed to the door and took a deep breath before opening it. When she opened the door and saw him standing there with a winter bouquet and wine bottle in his hands. It was such a coincidence that he has picked a velvet emerald green jacket to combine with his black trousers and shirt.

"Welcome Severus, come in! It is snowing outside."

"Hello." He smiled and entered the house once he lived in together with her, handed her the bouquet and the wine he brought. “These are for you.”

"Ah thank you, the flowers are so pretty!" She inhaled the flowers’ scent.

"Not as pretty as you..." Severus couldn't take his eyes off of her, Scarlett has aged like a fine wine.

She blushed lightly at his statement and looked away from him. "You can directly go to the dinner table; we better eat them before they get cold. And you know what, i cooked everything by myself, no help from the house elf!"

"Today is the big day then huh? You are showing me your improved cooking skills?"

"Oh yes today is the day!" Scarlett giggled while they were taking their seats.

He looked at the small feast that she prepared for them. It wasn't a classic Christmas feast since both of them were vegetarians but everything was looking more than perfect.

"I must say, i am already impressed Scarlett. Everything looks and smells splendid."

"Everything tastes splendid  too, i guarantee." She winked at him. "Help yourself, bon Appetit!"

    After the dinner they moved to the couch with their drinks in hands. Severus has really enjoyed the foods even he admitted that Scarlett's cooking skills have moved from 1 to 5 point. Scarlett was more than happy to hear that because cooking wasn't her best skill at all.

    Hours have passed and they have talked little bit of that and little bit of this, ate the cake Scarlett has baked and listened to some music from the record player. After 4 glasses of wine, Scarlett had an unnecessary amount of courage and suddenly asked him if he had anyone in his life even though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear the answer. Severus wasn't expecting that question at all but he had the answer.

"No, i don't." Severus finished off the wine in his glass. Starting a new relationship didn’t even cross his mind after their breakup. It was either Scarlett or no one for him.

"How come you are still single? You would make a great husband, i am sure."

Severus sighed and shook his head. "Scarlett, you are the only one who value me, every part of me that i don't even like myself... And i am so stupid that i let you go..." He wasn't planning the say those things but they did flow from his mouth, apparently wine has affected him too. But he didn’t care, if they had to do the talk they would now.

"I didn't want to go, you left me..." Scarlett whispered while playing with the wine glass. He hasn't even given her a proper reason, just left her. "Why did you leave? I deserve an answer Severus... It has been years, won’t you tell me still?”

Severus still didn't want to tell her the reason, he was sure it would make Scarlett very upset but he knew he should eventually. The reason has made sense to him at the time but the moment he broke up with her, Severus has regretted his decision deeply but he couldn't turn back because he has thought she wouldn't want him back anymore after how much he hurt her.

Severus took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, this talk wouldn’t be easy at all for both of them. "I will tell you but please let me finish it before saying anything… You remember that nightmare-like times between us and Sirius… I have visited Sirius when he was at the hospital after his suicide attempt, this was before your dad informed you about it. All he talked about was you and how much he loves you, how much you mean to him. And i thought maybe he loves you more since he tried to kill himself after you cut the ties with him, because of me... Scar i don't know, i just thought that he could give you more things than me and you deserve the best so i decided that you would be happier with him than being with me... Don’t look at me like that…"

Scarlett couldn't believe the things she just heard. She has always thought that he fell in love with someone else or he didn't love her anymore. "Severus, that is the stupidest thing i've ever heard from you... Didn't i show you enough that i was in love with you deeply and i was so happy with you...? I didn't want anyone or anything else but you Severus. I loved you… but apparently you didn’t love me enough…"

“That’s not true…” He couldn't dare to look into her eyes or say anything else, the words stuck into his throat. Now he knew it is a stupid reason but as a young boy it made sense to him. Severus has never thought a beautiful and rich girl like Scarlett would be his friend, let alone be dating someone like him. And there was Sirius, Hogwarts's most handsome boy and Scarlett's lifelong best friend, plus he was in love with her like crazy. Sirius looked like a better fit for Scarlett rather than himself, he never felt confident against Sirius, Severus didn’t have the looks nor the money while Sirius had both. But now looking at Scarlett and Sirius's divorce, it was clear that his thoughts were nonsense because he would never cheat on Scarlett, ever.

"Severus...?"

Scarlett’s trembling voice brought him back to reality from his thoughts. Severus looked into her tearful eyes, she always told more with her eyes and Severus liked that silent communication but now her eyes had an effect of a dagger and stabbed his heart. Then his eyes moved to her red lips and unconsciously he leant into them ever so slightly but he pulled himself back in the next second he noticed what’s he doing, he shouldn't have kissed her even he wanted nothing else. Scarlett was the same; her heart was wanting to kiss him but her brain was saying it's not a good idea at the current situation.

"I better go... Thank you for the dinner." Severus stood up to leave suddenly;  If he stayed any longer, he was scared that he wouldn't control himself and the conversation had a tool on both of them.

Scarlett just nodded, she still couldn’t process the things Severus revealed. "Good night..."

"Good night Scarlett..." And he vanished in the air.

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