#green blackout curtains

[wlwvampirism]

It’s so satisfying seeing my room slowly transform into a place that I like to be in

[asinglesock]

send help. it's supposed to be 91 degrees tomorrow. on my day off :(

[masteringlight]

Innovative Designs: Custom Size Blackout Curtains

The gorgeous curtains collection from LANTING HOME DECOR INC. will completely change your house. Our beautiful flower curtains provide a splash of color and a sense of nature in every space. Our personalized blackout curtains are ideal for anyone looking for privacy and light control, guaranteeing a calm and comfortable atmosphere. If you want the ideal balance between style and functionality, go with LANTING HOME DECOR INC.

[just-4-thirst]

Some early looks at the nursery since I haven't taken recent photos. She is almost 7 months old and still sleeps in the bassinet by our bed but the changing table gets a lot of use.

[michelle-anadytop]

Luxury emerald green window curtains sliding glass door drapes

These green curtains are rich and powerful color that is vastly associated with wealth and glamour, can enhance your home, bring in an additional richness & sophistication to your living space.

Shop now -> https://bit.ly/3hSR8xO

[anadytop]

Luxury emerald green window curtains sliding glass door drapes

These green curtains are rich and powerful color that is vastly associated with wealth and glamour, can enhance your home, bring in an additional richness & sophistication to your living space.

Shop now -> https://bit.ly/3hSR8xO

[evergone]

Rumours

Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: swearing.

Description: Theo and the reader aren't particularly close friends until a storm terrifies the reader, and Theo has to take her to her room. Scandal ensues.

Night began to ride in on the back of a storm and through the large windows looking out into the lake you could see schools of fish swimming further down to hide amongst the weeds and mud below the dungeon. Wrapped in a large cream coloured goat’s wool blanket, and layered in both a brown cotton jumper and your green-lined robe, you found warmth by the crackling fireplace as you sped through your Potions homework, well aware that you would never get it completely finished by Monday when it was due. Vanilla and chamomile candles lit themselves around the long common room and their scent wafted through the space, mixing with the smell of the burning wood and adding to the all-encompassing sense of home.

Lightning struck the lake, the first of what would be many times that night, and you waited anxiously for the oncoming thunder. It broke out from a whimper to a roar, so loud it shook the common room, and the two green glass bottles sat atop the elaborate stone mantelpiece of the fireplace swayed into each other with a quiet ‘clink!’ as if making a toast. Stress seized your mind, and while you contemplated moving away from the windows, you couldn’t find it in yourself to get up. Just about frozen from phonophobia, as well as from your complete mortification at the thought that someone unkind could discover this fear, you scribbled over your homework parchment absentmindedly.

As another bolt of lightning met with the lake, the entrance to the common room swung open and the ever-familiar voice of your dearest friend, Pansy Parkinson, and some of your other housemates disturbed the mostly silent space. Gaze transfixed on your homework, you didn’t notice them make their way across the deep green and shining silver mosaic floors until Theodore Nott overly fondly pushed you further to the edge of the lounge you were on and stole half of the blanket from you as he sat down. Thunder raged again in the gloomy, storm-charged atmosphere, twice as loud as the groups’ conversation and your body tightened to a tense.

As Theo made himself more comfortable, he threw you an awkward smile as a swift apology for invading your personal bubble.

The two of you were hardly friends, just friends-of-friends, and it was for no reason other than the convenience of the group that you were ever in each other’s company. Occasionally, there would be a free period that you’d both spend in the library and whoever had gotten there first would wave the other over and you’d sit together, but you’d only ever do your homework quietly across from each other. No chatting, no socialising, not even a ‘how are you liking the weather?’ You were fine with this, though, as both Theo and yourself were private people. Or, at least, you pretended to be fine with the unspoken arrangement.

“You okay?” he asked, interrupting your train of thought when his hand met the section of blanket covering your knee, and the earthly wonders he had for eyes met yours.

He must have felt you when you tensed.

Simplicity was an attribute of Theo’s that you truly admired and adored. He never said a word more than he needed to. You shook your head meekly like a shy child on her first day in kindergarten. Mascara seemed the only barrier stopping you from turning your lashes into a lawn covered in morning dew — you wouldn’t be seen having it run down your face, how would you possibly hide that from the judgemental eyes of the Slytherin population? Seeming to disregard your nonverbal response as a lie, Theo waved his wand and the snake-patterned blackout curtains fell over the windows, putting a distance between the common room and the outside world.

“Is it the noise?” he guessed in a hushed tone, careful not to draw the attention of any of the others.

“Mhm,” you hummed as your cheeks reddened (Merlin be damned for letting him of all people figure you out), “Could you get Pansy to walk me to my room?”

Over on the other lounge, Pansy sat preoccupied in Draco’s lap, twiddling her short black hair between her pointer and her thumb, and laughing in an obnoxious manner at a story Blaise had started to tell almost twenty minutes earlier in the courtyard. It was some long reach piece of gossip about one of those Weasley kids — Fred? George? One of the other ones whose names Theo couldn’t remember for the life of him? He hadn’t really been paying much attention. Rested in the back pocket of Pansy’s jeans was Draco’s hand, holding her firmly on top of him. Safe to say, Theo wouldn’t be pulling those two apart inconspicuously.

“I’ll take you,” he told you.

Softly, he abandoned the blanket that once sheltered you from the nibbling chill of the late-Spring air and stood up. Both Blaise and Draco noticed this and each raised a pitch black or platinum blonde brow respectively as a questioning gesture of Theo’s motives as he held his hand out to help you up. With Theo as your guide and support, you made your way up to your room, stopping halfway up the stairs when another bang of thunder made you jump and he had to grab your forearms to make sure you didn’t fall over. You apologised awkwardly, and avoided his gaze as best you could while cherishing every moment in which his hands were on you.

At your door, you made sure to thank him profusely and honoured him with an I-owe-you which he refused to acknowledge. After ensuring you would be okay, he returned to the common room and sat in the seat he had left. Blaise had made himself comfortable where you’d once been, and the entire group stopped their conversation in favour of silence.

“The fuck was that?” Draco asked loudly.

Thunder continued to rumble overhead in the grey of the storm, adding to the grandeur of the Slytherin common room that Draco’s obscenity disregarded. Unbothered and unwilling to explain your personal troubles to the king of being the opposite of understanding, Theo just shrugged in response, and focused in on the black-furred cat that had made its way into their area as he listened to the storm as if it were music.

“Oh, shit…” Pansy said, the realisation that you had been scared by the storm finally hitting her, “I gotta go.”

Leaving Draco with an affectionate peck on the cheek, Pansy retreated upstairs, likely to go take care of you, Theo presumed. In her wake, Draco and Blaise erupted into questions. A muddle of ‘are you guys dating?’s and ‘actually what the fuck’s and ‘I didn’t even know you liked her’s were thrown at Theo who had no ulterior motives behind taking you upstairs, he had just done so out of the simple kindness of his heart. Slytherins being Slytherins, however, couldn’t fathom that he would do anything purely out of kindness. Kindness didn’t come naturally in a house dedicated to ambition and self-preservation.

“You like her, Theo, admit it.”

“Shove off, Draco,” Theo spat, pulling the blanket back over himself, “You don’t know anything.”

“Defensive!” Blaise laughed and poked his friend’s shoulder, “You are the closest to her out of all of us guys.”

Truthfully, you and Theo did spend an awful lot of time together. But that was only out of consequence, the fact that you both thoroughly enjoyed reading meant you were both always in the library looking through the hundreds or possibly thousands of leather-bound books, and you seemed to frequently happen upon each other. Outside of the library, your time was limited only to group activities because you sat next to Pansy or Daphne Greengrass in almost every class you shared with Theo and never spoke to him. He didn’t think anything of your time together. Surely, there wasn’t much to think. Right? The pair of you — no, there wasn’t any “pair” to begin with, say, the individuals of you, yes, that’s right, the individuals. The individuals of you were just happy acquaintances, nothing more.

The fire was hardly big enough to keep Theo warm against the backdrop of a fiercely windy night that had turned even the secluded dungeons cold. Even under all its fur, the cat who had made itself comfortable right up next to the flames looked still to be shivering in the crisp air. It jumped up off the floor, where the stone mosaics weren’t warming up at all, and squished itself between Blaise and Theo.

“You know, she barely even talks to us,” Draco started, “We’re her friends, of course, but when Pansy or Daphne or you aren’t there she goes all quiet.”

“And she clearly trusts you, whatever that whole thing was—” Blaise made circular motions with his arms to refer to Theo taking her to her room— “She didn’t trust any of us with it.”

Theo huffed, “She wanted Pansy, but she was busy with his hand on her ass, I had an…” He searched for the right word, “Obligation to help.”

“Because Theodore Nott is renowned for helping people,” Draco scoffed, his tongue dripping with sarcasm.

By the time you were crouched over a table in the library the next morning, making a desperate last-ditch effort to complete that Potions homework before third period, the storm had subsided. Unfortunately for you, your most outspoken friend, Daphne, had brought with her a storm of her own.

“I heard a rumour,” Daphne began as she pinned her blonde side fringe back behind her ear.

“Oh, here we go!” Pansy sighed.

Numerous scrolls of parchment were littered over the desk in the library that the three of you had made your own and Pansy was sorting frantically through them looking for all the ones with her handwriting on them — she couldn’t even remember the amount she had written on. Stacks of books on the fundamentals of potions, charms and transfiguration threaded themselves between the scrolls and threatened to fall as her inattentive sorting had her reaching over and around them sloppily. With a creak, you leaned back in your chair taking a blind gander under the desk to find another three scrolls forgotten on the elephant print, medieval-style rug that covered the wooden floors and handed them to her.

“According to hearsay, you and Theo are having some kind of fling,” Daphne continued, “Care to comment, Y/n, my dear friend?” She held a fist out towards to mimic a reporter holding a microphone.

“Who told you that?” You asked, furrowed brows adorning your face like a weighted crown as you slapped her hand away.

She shrugged then took her own scrolls which were contained in a pile on a separate but close-by desk, and put them into the spacey grey-black satchel slung over her shoulder. Clock striking the hour, your two companions bid you adieu as they headed for Ghoul Studies. Unsure whether she had found all her scrolls, Pansy took one last glance at the desk before giving up altogether, stating that if she didn’t have it then it surely wasn’t important.

Left alone to drown in your inability to finish this Merlin-darned homework, your mind wandered to the somewhat unsavoury rumour concerning yourself and Theo that was supposedly making the rounds. Details of the night prior came back in sections, split up by bursts of terror ignited by the loud storm. Most of your memories were from the latter half of the night, curled up in Pansy’s arms singing to the wizarding hits of the last five or so decades. However, the earlier moments lingered on your side and your hand — the everlasting effects of Theo’s touch. By Salazar, what you wouldn’t give to feel him again.

As if your thoughts were summons, the very boy with whom you were engaged in the beginnings of a tumultuous scandal entered your space in the library. Drawing back the chair Pansy had once claimed beside you, Theo sat down, and set some parchment and ink on the desk alongside your books and half-finished assignments. He ran a hand through his tawny brown curls, breaking his near-perfect side part as his chest rose and fell with every heavy breath.

“You look exhausted,” you smiled, taking notice of his sweat slicked forehead.

You’d never started a conversation with him before.

“I spent the morning playing quidditch with Draco,” he said with a hint of anger.

You laughed gently and missed as the sound lit a spark in Theo’s eyes, convincing him to move his seat closer to yours. Surrounding the two of you was an air as warm as a campfire at school camp, or the fireplace under stockings on Christmas Day, or the oven after baking a fresh loaf of bread. Burdened by your workload, you dug straight back into your tasks, but Theo had other ideas. Parchment was less hardy than paper, and so your homework scroll was starting to fray, piquing his interest as he took a lose thread between his fingers and toyed with it. Eyes slimmed, brow raised, you sent him a look of confusion.

“Let’s not do our work today,” he announced.

“And do what instead?” You questioned, already having disregarded your quill in the inkpot, turned wild by the promise of adventure.

Easily, Theo stood up and raised his arms to stretch out his tall spine letting a set of cracks run down it from his shoulders to his hips. The black band of his underwear exposed itself as his white button-up school shirt lifted above his belly button, and you caught yourself mid-stare at his happy trail. He made a place for himself behind your chair, his upper body leant over your head like a tree you were using for shade as he inspected the shelves full of ancient books before you. If you had died right there, you would certainly have died happy.

He was looking for something to impress you (though he couldn’t exactly justify why he’d become suddenly inclined to do such a thing), something that would gain your attention, something he could recommend so you could go back to him to talk about it. For him to find that, you would have to leave the education section in favour of the leisure section. He held his hand out to assist you in standing for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, and you took it again; his high body temperature, and calm but bored aura encompassed you at the touch of your palms. When he let go, he waved the very same hand over your belongings to cast a spell that would pack everything into your brown leather shoulder bag that was leaning idly on the leg of your chair.

“Give me a sec,” he whispered, cautious of Madam Pince’s omni-audient ear.

There wasn’t a single book he could think of that he didn’t know you had already read. Always the avid reader, you were, from the moment you learnt the alphabet it seemed you couldn’t live without a book in one hand and a pencil for annotating in the other. When he finally came across something he thought you’d like, a compilation of poetry by some witch named Winters, he hurried back to lead you elsewhere.

You followed him like a stray puppy would follow the scent of food, and he took you outside to sit below two wych elms whose branches were tangled like lovers. Blooming expanses of creeping thyme coloured the soles of your shoes a pale pink-purple as you crushed them under your feet; you would be ever grateful for the house elves when they cleaned it off for you. Pollen tickled your nose and pricked your eyes, the sun’s rays created a sheen of light across the Black Lake, and the skies had cleared completely, leaving a blue vastness to watch over the castle.

Theo laid down and passed you the poetry book, “For you.”

Taking it from him and flipping through the pages, you nodded your thanks and rested your head on the ground next to him. Human silence overcame the little space you two had made for yourselves and the sounds of nature, birds chirping, bees buzzing, leaves rustling, were the only things left to be heard anywhere near. In the distance, there was a faint echo of classes being taught, but so far away that it you wouldn’t be able to hear it unless you strained yourself immensely.

“Did you finish that potions homework?” Theo asked.

Another laugh escaped your mouth, “When have I ever finished potions homework on time?” You said with a newfound confidence, “Snape takes five house points from me in every class.”

An amused close-lipped smile spread across his face, “And here I’ve taken you away from your studying.”

“I wouldn’t have done it anyway,” you sighed, content with your predicament.

Frost-speckled grass kissed your cheek as you turned to look at him, the remnants of Winter still lasted so far into Spring. Theo turned as well, taking in every scar, freckle and acne bump that was blessed by belonging to you.

“Let’s read this together,” you said, and opened to the first page of the book he had found for you.

“No!” He rushed out, stealing it back, and placing it on the other side of him.

Confusion danced a ballet over your soft features while a blush spun savagely over his strong, sharp traits. One of your arms, your right that was furthest away from him, reached across his body in blind hope to find the gift he had so abruptly rescinded. The mole above his mouth slinked forward as he bit his bottom lip, and slid the book under the curve of his back so you’d never be able to grab it. Nevertheless, you flipped onto your stomach and shot your hand underneath him, crumbling as you got stuck under his weight.

“What are you doing?” You giggled, “Why can’t I read it?”

“I want to get it right,” explained Theo, “I picked this out on a whim, give me some time to choose something better suited for you, yeah?” You frowned so he quickly added, “Please?”

Under long lashes that appeared almost naked without the layers of mascara you usually covered them with, your enthralling e/c irises stared at him, teleporting him into the mazes of your mind where he intended to get lost. Retracting your frown and wriggling your arm out from underneath him, you lazed the side of your forehead against his shoulder which, to both yours and Theo’s surprise, struck up an affectionate sensation in your chests. From your position you could feel the way his heart pushed and pulled the blood through his veins and arteries, the tender ‘dun-dun’ of his heartbeat causing his whole body to pulse to an organised rhythm.

Five years you had known Theo and while one wouldn’t be wrong to call you associates, I must reiterate that you were never really friends. Seeing him in the library during your corresponding free periods was nice, you supposed, but you suddenly realised that you hated how far you drifted outside of the library’s book-covered walls. The previous night had been the first time in what was likely forever that you had spoken exclusively to one another without the guidance of a third party. Really, you just wanted to get to know him better, see the sides of him that didn’t show during a dead-silent hour alone in the library.

“Well, since you asked so politely,” you said with a sincere smile.

Theo opened his mouth to respond but was cut off before he was given the chance by Daphne’s high-pitched, intrusive voice screaming at you from across the field of creeping thyme, “You whores are never beating these allegations!”

Her volume gave you half a heart attack and you jolted upright, deserting Theo’s shoulder, and glancing over your own to see Daphne approaching the two of you with Blaise, Pansy, Draco, Tweedledum and Tweedle-dee on her heel. Clearly, the bell had rung for break, but between your great library escape and book shenanigan, neither of you had cared to check the time. How the others had found you was beyond your capacity to think as you waited for your heart to settle and your forehead to cease sweating following Daphne’s ear-piercing entrance.

“What allegations?” He asked her, thick eyebrows glaring, not at her, but at the content of her conversation.

“Y/n didn’t tell you?” She said, “You’ve been swept up in a scandal. Everyone thinks you guys are getting it on.”

Vulgar motions were made with her hands, sending Crabbe and Goyle into a bout of immature laughter. Flushed red with embarrassment, you avoided the look Theo was more-than-likely throwing your way by connecting your own line of vision with Pansy’s. She bit her tongue, widened her eyes, and nodded harshly in Theo’s direction, urging you to look at him. But you were so terribly embarrassed that you took to your feet, and ran away from your friends, ignoring them as they called out for you to come back.

You found the first broom closet that would open at the utterance of ‘Alohomora,’ and found solace in the cramped, yet perfectly concealed hiding spot. As your hands came up to cover your eyes, the humiliation of, not only the rumour, or the fact that you were caught in such a compromising position with Theo, but of the fact that you had fooled yourself into starting to think that you and Theo were building something, overcame you. Once you decided the coast would be clear, and your friends would have all returned to their classes, you opened the broom closet door, your eyes stinging with the remains of tears.

Standing before you with a look of knowing and understanding that was so much beyond friendliness, was Theo. His hands were in his pockets, and he had slung both your bag and his own over his wide shoulders.

“How did you find me?” You said quietly, and wiped your eyes, hoping you could hide their inevitable redness.

“The others were headed to Potions, but I heard you sobbing, and thought I should wait until you were ready to come out,” he responded just as softly.

“Why would you do that? You know Snape doesn’t take late homework submissions! You’re coming third-in-class!” You exclaimed.

Worry flashed behind your eyes, and he quickly leant down, and reached out to cup your face in his large, calloused hands, “Hey, hey, it’s alright! I took you away from your study first, Y/n, it’s only fair that we both fail.”

That classic frown of yours graced your beautiful features, and Theo had to withhold the urge to sigh with infatuation. It was a blessing to behold you, even when your cheeks and eyes were so puffy and irritated, and your nose was beginning to run a little. However gross it was was eclipsed by how perfect you were.

“Why are you so upset, huh?” He asked you in a gentle tone.

A small sniffle preceded your reply, “There’s this tasteless rumour about us, and I was just starting to realise how much I like being around you, and now it’s all ruined!”

Theo laughed his mellifluous, musical laugh which frustrated you into an even deeper frown, then he said, “A stupid rumour couldn’t ruin us.”

Glancing up at him, you allowed your frown to soften. He had said ‘us.’ What in the world did that mean? What, or who, was ‘us?’ Did he mean the two of you? Your thoughts ran as rampant and crazy as they had earlier when he first proposed the idea of skipping out on your study period. Quickly, you began to hypothesise all sorts of meanings and justifications for his choice of words.

“And, for the record, I love being around you, too,” he said.

Without warning, your body became charged with that uncharacteristic confidence that had only started to appear the night before, and you leant in to place your forehead on Theo’s. He looked downright idiotic from that angle, but you saw firsthand how his line of vision flickered down to your lips, and back up to your eyes. And you thought, if people must think you’re messing around with someone, you wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.

“Would you like to — Do you want to…?” You had read hundreds of books on romance, but still you couldn’t think of the words.

“Can I…?” Neither, it seems, could he.

You placed your hand on the back of his neck, and pulled him in. His lips were were raging fires, yours were wax, melting at the touch of heat. Notes of nutmeg and cypress hit your nose — his cologne. His hands gripped your waist, just lower than could be written off as friendly, and he kissed you so passionately that any onlooker would think the rumours so obviously confirmed.

Eventually, he pulled away, and you just stared at each other in total wonder. There was no way you could possibly discredit those rumours now.

[pepperpepperz]

heres a little drawing of what i think sherlock's (shockingly clean) room looks like!

[ID: a digital drawing of sherlock holmes' bedroom. the walls are painted green and white, and he has a large bulletin board filled with pictures and newspaper clippings hung right above his bed. on the wall adjacent is a bird poster. beside the poster is the window, which has blackout curtains. his bed is in the corner, and he has a traintrack pillowcase, weighted blanket, and bee plushie on his bed. archie also sits on the bed and wags his tail. an orchid with no flowers sits on his dresser, and his nightstand has books atop and slippers beneath./End ID.]

[4pfsukuna]

Bed Peace

Debrief: Touch deprived and exhausted Terry always finds solace in your bed. Fluff

‘Curled up with my head on your chest is the best remedy for the pain and the stress’

The first thing you notice when your eyes open is that you aren't home alone. You don't move though, instead just listening to the sounds fluttering through your apartment before noticing it's the early hours of the morning right before the sun rises and the sky is that wicked purple color.

The morning breeze flutters through the room making the curtains rustle,  goosebumps raise slightly on your skin, the brown silk sheets not helping to keep you warm. You settle for closing your eyes letting your head sink further into the plush pillows, scarf somewhere on the floor.

It's when the bed dips slightly and you feel a pressure on your lower abdomen that you finally relax. Being on edge for weeks not knowing if he was okay or where he even was. It's when your hands come down to the nape of his neck playing with the hair there that he sighs heavily, finally wrapping his arms around your waist, fingers curling into you as if you're going to float away if he doesn't.

As if this is just a dream that he's going to wake up from and be back in training.

As if this a dream and he’ll go back to the nightmare his reality turned into.

“I'm here” you promised, squeezing his arm watching the large man visibly sigh, one arm falling to hang off the bed as he begins to doze off the fatigue of the past few days finally catching up to him. Fatigue from constantly running, moving, planning, executing… PACING.

Running your fingers down his spine, the nape of his neck, ears, sideburns and even his hair for what feels like minutes but is actually hours and in your own way this was your version of how he curled his fingers around you to really make sure he's there. Not that he minds between falling asleep and basking in your soft touch does he notice how touch starved he actually is. 

The next time he wakes up is only 2 hours later the sunlight dancing through the spaces in your blackout curtains flashing through his eyelids. The heat of the morning sun warming up the parts of his skin you weren't still rubbing, caressing and it eases him again though he hates he can't stay asleep past the sunrise.

“Sorry i forgot to close the curtains” you whisper, reaching for it not expecting his hand to grab yours placing it back on his neck his own way of saying he didn't mind��� as long as you kept touching him.

And when he doesnt feel your hands moving on him he lifts his head green eyes looking unreal in the morning sun, fucking perfect. Flawless skin, pretty and thick lips… who was talking about who?

“Just say you wanted to see my eyes in the sun” he teases watching as you smile a small giggle erupting past your lips before he pulls the curtain closed this time laying on your chest. He's quick, wrapping and arm around you, his hand sliding up your shirt fully locking you in place and you aren't even sure who's holding who any more as you tangle your legs in his and that's when he really sighs.

It's like you were holding him down, keeping him grounded.

“Missed you” he murmurs into your neck inhaling your scent of strawberry vanilla unfamiliar since he was so used to your coconut scent. He keeps inhaling, holding you tight each time he does.

“Stop it” you giggle pushing him not that it does anything from how tight he's wrapped himself around you.

“You smell good” his morning voice rasp and it takes everything in you not to shudder. It's probably for the better if you couldn't see his eyes right now. And it's silent for a while. you almost think he dozed back off until—

“Really missed you” 

“You're safe with me, it's just us. You and me” you promise and it's your turn to squeeze him tight. 

“You can stay right here. Just lay right here. Everything is okay right here” you soothe running your hands down his cheeks over his broad shoulder feeling the gauze pad and then his spine— another gauze pad.

The sadness fills your heart for him and the way that THIS is the only thing he wants. The only thing he needs.

“You can stay right here” you squeeze tighter, pulling a soft groan from him as he nuzzles further into your chest.

“Just lay right here” your hand runs over his head caressing and stroking with your thumb his eyes closing and just focusing on your words and the feeling of your body against his.

“Everything is okay right here” you promise, leaving a kiss on his forehead running your hands over his hot skin once more before the two of you slowly doze off locked in another unable to move.

[ode-to-melpomene]

hello mel!!! your jason todd x artist! reader is a real gem, so delicious i think i would like to eat it!!! could i possible request a jason todd x famous poet!reader?

Anon, you get me.

I struggled a bit with the plot for this one, but I hope you like it regardless <3

Erato

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn poet!reader Synopsis: Jason convinces you to take a break. Word Count: 1281. Warnings: Established relationship and fluff!

The living room was dark. 

Blanketed in shadows, Red Hood stepped off the fire escape and into the apartment. Muscles taut, shoulders squared, jaw clenched tight beneath his helmet, he stalked with a panther’s grace through the shadows. Light on the balls of his feet, his heavy boots hardly made a sound against the floorboards of the creaky old Gotham apartment.

Red Hood kept his hand hovering inches from the gun on his waist as he stepped warily around the furniture. The white film obscuring his eyes trailed over the lamp atop an end table beside the familiar orange chaise sofa.

Something wasn’t right. It was so dark.

Filling the shadows with his presence, Red Hood slunk down the hallway. His broad figure filled the space, looming in the narrow hallway like a beast waiting to lunge from the darkness. His skin crawled with a sense of wrong, wrong, wrong. His teeth inched to sink into something. The scent of copper and gunpowder clung to his body armor, suffocating him as he inhaled it with each breath. His hackles rose.

There, at the end of the hall. The tiniest sliver of pale light filtered through the crack of an ajar door. Red Hood’s fingers twitched beside his gun, itching to reach for the grip that he knew fit so comfortably in the palm of his leather-clad hands.

Said hands, dirty and tainted, slid across the sage green surface of the door. Claws curled around the edge of the door, sliding through the gap. He inhaled deeply, a rumble like a growl deep in his chest as he steeled himself. Something was wrong, wrong wrong-

Red Hood pushed the door open and hovered in the doorway. A hulking, heaving, monstrous figure doused in oil-slick darkness that filled the entire threshold. Sharp eyes and predatory teeth staring down at-

You.

Your eyes jerked away from the dimly lit laptop screen on your desk and landed on the shadowed figure looming at the entrance to your home office.

“You didn’t leave the lamp on,” Red Hood gruffed, his fist clenching and unclenching at his side. You always left the lamp on.

Your eyes widened as you glanced around the dimly lit room, the blackout curtains drawn. “What time is it?” you demanded with a breathy sense of panicked realization.

“Three in the morning,” Jason breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against the doorway. “Scared me, angel. Thought somethin’ might have happened.” His gloved hands reached for his helmet, dragging the metal from his skin with a satisfied exhale. He rolled his head on his neck, stretching the aching muscles. “What are you still doing up?”

“Finally found a groove,” you replied, your gaze again fixed on the dim screen. Your fingers hastened over keys with a swiftness he hadn’t seen in days. He had grown used to the sluggish drawl and frustrated taps, your dramatic grumblings begging for inspiration to strike. “If I stop now, I- I’ve gotta get this done before-”

“The end of the week,” he finished, an exhausted, lopsided grin rising on his lips. He lifted a gloved hand to swipe sweaty hair from his skin. “How many have you written tonight?”

“Six,” you answered quickly, fingers pausing over the keys. The sound of heavy boots crossing the floor drew your attention and you found yourself staring up at Jason as he leaned forward and planted one hand on the desk. His helmet thudded onto the desk next to your hand. Your eyes met his, lips parting slightly at the curious expression he wore.

Jason always seemed like a statue to you. Strong, immovable, broad. Your eyes grazed over the scrawling scuffs and scratches of his suit that spiraled like vines climbing over his marble surface. The red highlights of his armor like maroon clematis, blossoming from the vines that held him together-

“Might have an idea for a seventh poem,” you began as you turned back towards your computer. Your breath hitched at the feeling of leather sliding up your throat and stopping to cup your jaw. Jason’s fingers curled slightly as he turned your head to meet his gaze again.

“When was the last time you took a break?”

“Um…” your tongue felt useless in your mouth as you stared up at him with wide eyes. Green eyes gleamed back at you, brows pinched together in a subtle scowl. Your stare roved over his face–the subtle crook of his nose, twice broken, and the thin scar tracing from his jaw to his cheek, and the wisp of sweat-damp black and silver hair that stuck to his forehead. “Probably… noon?”

Jason sighed. “C’mon, up.”

“Jay-”

“Up,” he prompted, hauling you up from your chair. Your palms flattened to his armored chest as you sought to stabilize yourself. Your fingers fanned out wide against the red sigil scrawled across his chest, then slid down to rest over his ribs. Jason hummed appreciatively and looped one arm around your waist, the other cupping your cheek. “Take a break with me, yeah? Know you need to get this done-”

“- I’ve got the book signing next week, and I need to have my draft turned in to my editor before then-”

“- But you’ll be no good to anyone strung out and exhausted.” Your cheeks warmed and you cast your eyes down. Your hands drifted back to the vibrant symbol across his chest. He was right, of course–he knew better than most how important it was to avoid being overworked… not that he heeded his own advice very often.

You jumped from your thoughts when his gloved hand closed around your wrist. You felt a pop from between your teeth and your gaze shot down to where he pulled your hand from your mouth, nail slightly torn. Oh. You were doing it again, and you hadn’t even noticed.

Jason brought your hand to his lips and laid a kiss on your palm, then trailed down and placed another on your wrist. It was like butterflies gracing your skin. His hands were strong as oak as he tugged you tighter against him-

“Yuck,” you said, jumping as he kissed your forearm and his wet, sweaty hair brushed your skin. You wrinkled your nose in disgust. He chuckled when you tried to pull your arm away.

A squeal escaped your lips when he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You squirmed at the ticklish feeling of Jason pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin, dragging his damp face against your dry skin. “Jason! Gross!”

You groaned in disgust at the feeling of his damp hair dappling your skin. Your hands pushed at his shoulders, but his arms just pulled you tighter against him. There was no escape from the torment, and you whined pitifully in protest. He returned your frustration with a huffy laugh against your shoulder.

“You’re the worst.”

Jason grinned a crooked smile against your skin as his gloved hand slid into your hair and cradled your head against his chest. “C’mon, take a shower with me. Save some water. I can make dinner after, and we can eat in here while you wrap up.” He pulled away, his hair mussed as he gazed at you with a gentle expression. When he leaned in again it was to press barely there kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your temple, and back down. “Take a break with me.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as a content sigh left your lips. Your eyes felt heavy under his ministrations and you finally acknowledged the weary ache in your bones. You hummed quietly, a wordless reply to his request. 

You could spare thirty minutes.

[figonas]

I’m sorry but you all aren’t listening, lyctorhood itself is not the “indelible sin” and you can pry this theory from my cold dead hands, honestly, maybe not even then. TazMuir herself could not dissuade me until she explicitly tells me otherwise. My proof for this you ask? Pyrrha’s conversation with Varun in NtN chapter 9.

But let’s backtrack for a second. John has stated that the resurrection beasts are after him and the lyctors for committing the indelible sin of lyctorhood, and as such the lyctors can never return to the Dominican System for fear of drawing the RBs back to the Nine Houses. I’ve never believed this was true given the fact that John is always the greatest common denominator when it comes to the presence of an RB and there’s no mention of an RB going after a lone lyctor. Sure, lyctors have been killed fighting resurrection beasts but there’s a huge difference between being caught in the crossfire and starting a firefight. For me, Nona the Ninth only reinforced that what we’ve been told is the “indelible sin” is either John misunderstanding the RBs (doubtful) or lying for his own purposes (more likely).

In chapter 9 of NtN, Nona recounts the story of her disastrous beach trip and towards the end of this recitation Nona says that Pyrrha;

“…crossed to the taped-up window, bottle and glass in hand. To Nona’s awe, she twitched the blackout curtains aside—stood bathed in the hyper-blue light from the sky as Nona held her breath—and she said to the window, “Here’s to Camilla Hect, yet another of devotion’s casualties,” and knocked back the glass. Then she said to the light, quite gently, “No, I don’t blame you, man … He was always looking for things to throw himself on.”

Pyrrha stands in front of Nona, bathed in the light of Varun the Eater, and proceeds to have a conversation with it. We only get one side but based on the context of the last line, “No, I don’t blame you, man … He was always looking for things to throw himself on.” Varun seemingly apologizes to Pyrrha for killing G1deon. It’s proven later on in the book that Varun can speak to Nona, and while it could be argued that since G1deon is dead and his soul is gone the “indelible sin” has been undone this still begs the question; why would the punisher apologize to the sinner?

If Varun and the other RBs are hunting the lyctors to dole out justice for their sins why would they apologize for doing the very thing they sought to do unless that wasn’t their true intent. The “indelible sin” is not the consumption of another soul, it is the consumption of a specific soul. It is John taking Alecto into himself, not being able to house all of her and instead making an exchange. Housing a piece of her in him, and a piece of him in her. Splintering the soul of a great and terrible force into manageable parts. Which explains Varun’s ominous presence hanging over the planet in the first place.

If RBs are hunting Lyctors there are no lyctors on this planet. Palamedes has not consumed Camilla’s soul, G1deon is gone, Harrow is in the River, Gideon is thumbtacked to her dead body, the only soul of any significance to Varun is Nona. Later on in chapter 13 Varun, by way of Judith, says to Nona;

“…what they did to you and what they wrung from you and what shape they made you fill—we see you still—we seek you still—we murdered—we who murder—you inadvertent tool—you misused green thing—come back to us—take vengeance for us—we saw you—we see you—I see you.”

And in chapter 27,

“….what did he do to you, to make you this way.”

What did HE do to you!!! what did HE do to YOU!! To give John credit he doesn’t deserve he may not realize it himself but the RBs have been looking for Alecto this whole time. They don’t want the lyctors, they want what John stole, they want the piece of Alecto inside of him. Want to make her whole again, their misused green thing. She’s almost there. She has her piece back from harrow’s body, united with the piece of her hidden in the locked tomb. She only has 1 piece left to collect. And god knows what will happen when the green and breathing thing is whole once again.

[hatkuu]

how to kiss - a tutorial

written for the wonderful @dellphie!! sorry this took so long ////

m! kylar x gen! reader, straight up fluff ^^

summary: ever since you first kissed kylar, he's only gotten worse at it. you're sick of him being a horrible kisser. so you decide to teach him how.

-----

"Ow!"

Kylar's kissing ability was appalling.

Either too much tongue, teeth or lip - never the perfect amount of each. It—no— he was taking a toll on your mouth, and it was beginning to show; puffy lips, constantly reddened from overuse, and ugh - Kylar somehow managed to suck all of the moisture out of them, too.

And of course, he was passionate, overbearingly so.

"J-Just let me try again! I'll do it g-good this time!"

You playfully scowl at Kylar, huffing while slathering a heavy layer of chapstick on your lips. You massage the chapstick between your lips, pressing them into a thin line while you stare, blank-faced at Kylar. He pouts back at you, pleading with those horribly persuasive, constant puppy-dog-eyes. They crinkle at the edges from the remnants of a smile, and the coniving little mouse doesn't even try to hide it. Still glistening with your saliva, Kylar's faux pout falters and morphs into a cheeky smile - a smile rarely seen by anyone but yourself. He guides your hand holding the chapstick away from your face, slotting his lips just above your own, close enough that you can feel his breath against the tingling, reddened flesh.

"Pleaaase?"

He never does it good any time.

"Fine—"

Before you can say anything else, Kylar's lips are mashed against your own. His tongue dipping in and out of your mouth in an uncoordinated, sloppy fashion. You splutter against him, pulling away and shoving him backward—away from your face. Kylar whines, leaning forward to recover the loss but you tut at him, placing a palm against the bottom half of his face.

Kylar's hands instinctively reach upward to pull your hand from his face, but they abruptly stop mid-air as he gauges your expression.

You aren't happy with him. You dropped your chapstick as soon as Kylar's teeth clacked against your own. Now, the chapstick has rolled across the room, far out of reach.

Kylar, muffled by your palm, voices his concerns.

"What?"

You glower at him, clearly annoyed.

"We kiss on my terms this time, okay?" You wipe the remnants of Kylar's tongue from your chin, face scrunching up as gossamer strings form between the back of your palm and lips. "I'll teach you the right way to kiss so I don't have to use this crap constantly." You say, pointing at the chapstick rollibg across the floor. He relaxes against your palm, eyes crinkling in a wordless smile. You can see his thought process; and before Kylar can begin licking at your palm you snatch it away with a disgusted scowl. "Don't be gross."

"...Now, sit still."

Kylar breathes shakily, leaning back and sitting motionlessly, hands firmly gripping the duvet on his single-sized mattress. Dark, split-end hair splays over his face, messy and still slightly damp from the bath you had coaxed him into taking earlier. His lips are just as swollen as your own, tinged red from his overzealous kissing. He shakily smiles at you. You return it with just as much earnest.

"Okay, so..." You trail off, cupping Kylar's cheek with one hand and holding his waist firmly with the other. "Hand positioning is very important." Kylar audibly shudders at your touch, a choked, embarrassed sound slipping from his lips even though the two of you have been together for so long. Long enough that Kylar shouldn't still blush and stutter when ever you look his way, but time doesn't stop his shyness. It probably never will.

"See? Doesn't it feel nice?"

Kylar nods, swallowing hard and tilting his head to fall deeper into your warm palm. The blackout curtains in Kylar's room leave no hints of natural light in the room. The artificial light of the six monitors on the opposite side of the room reflects his frightened eyes, the green flecks within them becoming more noticable than ever. You stare impulsively, committing them to memory as Kylar blushes a deep red, lips parted slightly as he gapes at you in shock.

Your lips break out into an affectionate, patient smile, waiting calmly until Kylar's rigid posture and shocked expression melts into comfort.

"Now do it to me."

Kylar shakily places his hands on your waist, his fingers digging into the plush flesh curiously. You can tell he's impatient. He's so close to you. So close. And all he can do is place his hands on your waist—which is nice—but he wants to feel you under your clothes, wants to touch the places that make you squirm and writhe against him and kiss you like he's supposed to—

"Kylar?" You ask, cutely tilting your head at him when you notice the far-off look in his eyes. "Your hands are really stiff, you have to loosen up! It'll feel better, promise!"

"O-Okay," He says, averting his eyes, trying his best to relax. You are his future spouse, after all. It's fine. He'll teach you things too, eventually. "I-Is this better?" He asks, hands still slightly twitching against you. His shoulders rest low now, rather than sitting high up like a scared cat's back. You smile, tracing a thumb across Kylar's cheek.

"It's better. We can move on now."

You lean forward and press a soft kiss to the corner of Kylar's lips. He sighs impatiently, lips morphing into an honest pout.

"Foreplay is very important, Kylar."

Your once still hands begin petting Kylar. He melts against you, whining loudly, unashamed of each wailed sound. A slur of begging and pleading follows, along with a noticable bulge forming behind his crossed legs. You continue your ministrations, smiling through each peck you place everywhere but his lips.

Foreplay? He thought that was only a sex thing— has he been doing this wrong the whole time? If anything, this is more teasing than foreplay. It's horrible. "W-What are you d-doing, my love?" Kylar fusses against each kiss, squirming against each soft pet you place. "Y-You're teasing me, a-and—"

"Foreplay can be words, or touches, anything that isn't kissing, Kylar."

Kylar doesn't like it. This 'foreplay'. It feels like an extension of teasing. Something cruel that you've decided to make up because you don't like his kisses.

"You're perfect, Kylar... So good to me and I'm so lucky to have you."

"H-Huh? N-No, y-you're the perfect one a-and—"

You giggle softly at his stuttering, continually mumbling praises until Kylar is fighting his most primal urges to not kiss you back.

"P-Please!"

"Shh, I haven't even showed you how to kiss yet!"

Kylar doesn't think he'll survive.

"When you kiss, you have to be passionate - you don't have to worry about that part though," Kylar beams at you, a heavy blush still starkly coating his cheeks.

"Y-Yeah?"

"Yeah, but there's other parts to kissing too."

You take your hands off of Kylar, waving them around for emphasis.

"You have to be gradual with it - you can't just shove your tongue into my mouth unannounced! And you can't just bite me out of nowhere, either!"

"O-Oh..."

"Here, I'll show you."

You carefully tilt your head until your lips slot against Kylar's. They buzz from the contact, still sensitive from Kylar's past assault. Lips melting together like butter on a hot plate, bonded together until they would eventually solidify. You could taste the overwhelming sweetness of an off-brand energy drink on his tongue and lips, sweet and lemony sour. You smile into the kiss, tongue hesitantly parting Kylar's lips for entry. You're patient. Gentle. Loving.

Kylar sighs into the kiss, lazily kissing back, careful not to intrude on your demonstration. He wants to be eager. Wants to swallow your saliva and push his own into your mouth. But he doesn't.

You quickly nip Kylar's bottom lip when you pull away, cheekily smiling as he gapes at you, pressing two fingers to the graze. His face breaks out into a smile, eyes crinkling in delight as you unknowingly stake your claim on him.

Kylar stares at you, pleading. Yearning.

"Can I— Can I please k-kiss you now?"

"Okay... But remember what I taught you—"

You pause, looking at Kylar expectantly before you continue.

"—Slowly, okay?"

Kylar nods, eager to show you what he's learnt.

He falls forward into your lap, one hand cupped around the plump of your cheek, the other holding your waist. Just like you showed him. While his grip is a little tighter than it should be, it's nice. A soothing, grounding sort of feeling you'd never get from anyone else. A stark change from Kylar's usual needy tugging and snatching. His lips lazily drag across your face, leaving a snail-trail of saliva wherever his tongue traces. You squeak at the feeling, flinching back as Kylar quite literally licks your face. He hums softly, continuing his version of 'foreplay' until your squirming and whining from the grossness of it all.

He is slow. And he's doing everything but assaulting your lips, so you can't be upset with him. Kylar briefly meets your eyes. You can feel the longing within them. But it's gone quickly. Fleeting fast enough that you barely even see it. He leans close to the corner of your jaw, puffing warm air against the sensitive hairs on your neck. They tingle with each breath, goosebumps forming in anticipation.

"L-Love you so much," He mumbles hot against the shell of your ear. "So much." He pauses, pressing a soft peck just behind your ear before continuing his loving rambles, travelling down to your upper chest. "I-I won't— I won't let anyone else ever touch you l-like this," Kylar peers up at you from under your chin, green eyes being the only visible feature of his face.

"I-It's reserved for me, o-okay?"

You weakly nod, leaning into each peck he presses against your collarbones, reaching a hand to pet and scritch at the crown of his head as he kisses your body.

He quickly ends the foreplay just as soon, eager to taste your lips again.

"Only me," He mutters, slotting his lips against your own, pressing your bodies as close together as possible. The chapped texture of Kylar's lips is completely overshadowed by the gentle, fleeting presses placed against your moisturised lips. Each exhale through his nose is felt against your cupid's bow. His hands timidly pet at your body, trying to recreate a far-cry copy of what you did to him. He parts from you for a moment. "You taste so good, m-my love."

You giggle, slotting your lips back against his own, parting them just enough for Kylar to realise that you're giving him permission. He immediately thrusts his tongue into your mouth, exploring and licking at the pink flesh of your gums. He obnoxiously swallows as you squeak in surprise at the sudden entry. A muffled whine of his name slips out amidst the struggle, but Kylar, too engrossed in the delectable taste of your mouth, doesn't even flinch.

His kissing ability is far from perfect.

A bit gross, even.

But it's fine.

You're sure Kylar won't argue against you offering any further kissing lessons.

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 7

snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

omg hi guys… this chapter was so long and hard to write (that’s what she said), I got stuck many times, but here it is!! It’s definitely not my favourite chapter so.. it was sort of a filler one, just to establish some information and plot sort of thing. The next chapter will be a little more interesting because we will be starting Prisoner of Azkaban woooo!!

Okay. So here is part 7, don’t kill me. It’s kinda long again, almost as long as part 5, if not longer!!

LETSAGOOO!!

The crack in your curtains caused a stream of bright, blinding sunlight to stir you awake; a raspy and throaty groan bubbling in your throat as the pounding pain of an alcohol-induced headache began to stab at your temples. Nothing better than a hangover, right?

Another strangled groan left your lips as you rolled over in your bed, your arm falling out from underneath the covers. As quick as lightning, you tucked it back in once the cool and chilly breeze began to nip at it. You cracked open your eyes, noticing that you'd left your window open during the night, and you'd hardly even bothered to draw your curtains properly. You slapped your hands against your face as you tried to wrack your brain for any indication as to how the hell you ended up like this. Gods, did you get blackout drunk? It certainly felt like it...

A stab of pain struck your chest as you remembered Snape ordering you to get out of his office late yesterday afternoon. You quickly skipped past that memory with a soft yet strained sigh and found yourself with Hagrid in a forest. Ah yes, you went to go see Buckbeak after bumping into the groundskeeper. You continued to think back, soon finding the culprit of your hangover. In your mind, you were currently sat in Hagrid's hut, your fingers wrapped tightly around a goblet of Elven wine.

Oh, yes, you thought, wincing slightly as the memory of the two of you drinking at least two, possibly three, bottles of it together. You unwillingly sat up in your very messy bed, your hair sticking out in all sorts of directions. You groaned again, squeezing your eyes shut as you slipped out of it and stumbled towards your window and braced yourself for a moment before ripping them open.

"Fuck!" You croaked out, stumbling back as the blinding light broke through. It was like someone had just chucked a flashbang grenade in your room. Your eyes burned and you felt like shoving your head down a very dark hole. Wait, what time was it?

Quickly throwing a glance to your right and checking the clock on your wall, you sighed in slight relief, noticing it was around ten in the morning. Perhaps it was time to go for a walk to clear your head - more to subside the throbbing that was currently attacking it.

Strolling down the corridors, you were rather keen to get outside and breathe in the fresh air; the thought of it made your body tingle. Considering it was Winter break now, you had opted to wear a casual, below-the-knee dress. It was a deep forest green, almost emerald. The sleeves reached your wrists and it had an elegant and square neckline that showed off your collarbones. The skirt was circular, so, if and when you twirled around, the skirt would flare outwards.

Nearing the corner, your eyes flicked to a darker, unlit corridor, a rush of unpinpointable dread suddenly surging through your body. You immediately stopped in your tracks at the uncomfortable feeling and turned towards it, narrowing your eyes. You couldn't figure out why your body had reacted so unusually to the darkened corridor. You stared for a few more moments before walking away, glancing at it confusedly as you passed by. It was probably just your hangover-induced anxiety making things up in your head.

As you rounded the corner that would take you to the stairs down to the ground floor, your eyes were immediately met with a dark, harrowing pair that you had come to adore - regretfully, might you add. You froze in your spot, unsure of what to do or say. It felt like someone had just cast Petrificus Totalus on your body. You swallowed harshly as Snape's eyes stared back at you, obviously in the same predicament. Neither of you said anything. In all honesty, you were too hungover to deal with this.

It felt like someone had stolen the air from Severus's lungs the moment he laid his eyes on your tired form. Seeing you dressed in such a beautiful, elegant emerald dress made it hard for him to breathe normally. Last night, when you tried to kiss him, that didn't make it any easier on him. It took all of his strength to step away from you. He wanted to kiss you, obviously, but he didn't want it to happen like that. Not that it could, anyway. With Snape's vast, traumatic and dangerous history, he couldn't put you in harms way because of his emotions. He wouldn't allow it. He couldn't bear to see you die, you didn't deserve that, and he didn't deserve you.

As another several seconds of silence passed, Snape seemed to ground himself. His posture straightened, and he resumed his dramatic walk to continue stepping past you. He pushed his distracting thoughts of you to the side of his mind, his eyes tearing away from you and staring straight ahead as if he hadn't just spent the past couple of seconds staring at you like you were the most beautiful being he'd ever laid his godforsaken eyes on. In fact, he acted like you were never there at all. As he passed right by you, your lips twitched and your eyes began to burn again. Gods, you hated how easily he could influence your emotions with a singular action. You stood still in your place, balling your fists in an act of silent rage, sucking in a shaky breath with a muffled sob; your teeth biting down unbearably hard on your bottom lip in a weak attempt to hide your cries.

You were suddenly wishing you'd never returned to Hogwarts, even though it was your lifelong dream the second you walked through those doors. The only thought on your mind right now was Hagrid, and even then you were doubtful his happy energy could cheer you up. You thought it was also rather selfish to come running to the man the second you were in tears. He wasn't your stuffed animal that you cried into each night. However, you could really do with his presence right now, so you pushed those thoughts aside, for now.

So, there you were, rushing off down the stairs; the clacking of your heels echoing throughout the stairwell like a choir singing in an empty cathedral. You found yourself running the second you reached the outside, your lungs burning from the way you were breathing so raggedly. The cold breeze had never felt so good against your skin, and you dared to say it felt more comforting than when Snape had taken your hand when you offered him a dance in his office two nights ago.

Tears were freely flowing down your cheeks now, your fingers flying up to wipe them away in an aggressive, careless fashion. Hagrid's hut was coming into view as you continued to run across the dull green grass, specks of wet mud and soil painting your shoes and ankles. As you reached the crookedly built hut, you slowed down and bent over with your hands on your knees, waiting for a moment to catch your breath. Perhaps some more exercise would do you good.

Suddenly, you heard the creaking of Hagrid's door opening. "Oh, 'ello, Y/N," Hagrid said happily, a surprised smile painting his face as he stared down at you. Though, he quickly noticed you weren't okay. "Are ya cryin' again?..." He questioned softly, noticing the way you slowly leant upwards, your eyes puffy and red once again. Hagrid looked at you with such sympathetic eyes that you were worried he was going to set you off crying again.

"No," you lied as your voice broke and went up an octave, your fingers rushing up to grab the bridge of your nose. "...Yes." A frustrated sigh left your lips.

"D'ya wanna talk abou' it?" Hagrid asked cautiously, his eyes searching you for an answer. You hesitated for moment, debating whether to pour your heart out to him - to tell him how much grief Severus Snape, of all people, was causing you. He wouldn't believe you for a second.

"Err, I don't think you'd believe me." You laughed dryly, your heart twisting into a conflicted knot as you thought about the raven-haired Potion Master.

"Try me." Hagrid tilted his head at you gently. You scrunched your nose up at him and swallowed. This was going to be a long and tiresome conversation.

That was the last day that you could remember running to Hagrid in tears, which was around a week ago now. You'd told him as much as you could without making yourself seem like a complete fool, however, you weren't exactly convinced - despite Hagrid's multiple promises - that he didn't view you as one now. Having feelings for the most emotionally inept, cold and ruthless wizard at Hogwarts was not an easy feat, and you wished things were different for you. Perhaps if you were a tough, brave Gryffindor or a sly, witty Slytherin, you'd be able to handle it. However, your little Hufflepuff heart was at the end of it's tether and Snape's nonchalant and cruel words were starting to chip away at the walls you'd built around it to protect it from even more harm.

You were a little late to dinner this evening, and so you didn't have much of a choice in seating. The last chair available was the one next to Snape, and you were incredibly tempted to just leave it for the night, however, your stomach was gurgling like a mad baby as you had skipped lunch earlier to catch up on some grading. You pursed your lips and silently cursed yourself for such a silly choice. Biting down on the bullet, you sucked in a deep breath. With one foot forwards, you began to pad towards the empty chair, placing your hand on the back of it to draw it outwards, purposefully creating an ear-piercing screeching noise to piss off Snape. It undoubtedly worked, as a whirl of petty pride settled in your bones as his head snapped up to look at you, his eyes piercing you with a deadly glare.

"Apologies," You said in a low tone, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. You sat yourself down, not bothering to look at him.

"Perhaps you should be sitting with the students," Snape said bitterly, glancing to the tables in front of you, "considering you're willing to act so childish." There was a bite at the end of his words, his voice spiked with irritation.

"I think you'd suit them better, Severus." You replied, gritting your teeth, still avoiding his eyes.

"You must be deluded to think that." He scoffed at you, his lips turning downwards into a cruel sneer.

"Going to tell me to leave again?" You bit back at him. Snape's head snapped towards you again. Clearly that comment got underneath his skin.

"Going to barge into my office again, when you were clearly unwanted and unwelcome?" Snape's lip twitched as he stared at you, his deep, cold voice penetrating you like a spear. It was your turn to be hurt. You felt your heart twist and your eyes burn at his words.

You let your eyes fall to your hands for a moment, wallowing in your hurt. You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, and spoke once more.

"I pity you." Was all you said, voice quiet and timid. In your head, you were trying to win the unwavering war against the tears forming in your eyes. Gods, you loathed how emotional you were sometimes. Wouldn't life be so much fucking easier if you were a sociopath? Psychopath, maybe? You suddenly found yourself envying the unfeeling and socially-detached dark witches and wizards that caused havoc amongst the wizarding world.

No, life would probably be easier if weren't so hung up on such a cold-blooded man.

"That is rather comical," Snape said, a sarcastic smile on his lips. "Do you remember that night I found you inebriated in the corridors?" You turned towards him, that familiar rush of butterflies exploding in your stomach as your eyes met his for the first time tonight. You hated and loved the feeling. It was like a drug to you, a highly illegal one at that.

You were quiet, a blush burning into your cheeks as you and Severus continued to stare into each other's eyes, silently playing a game of Chicken. Snape stared at you, scrutinising you. His taunting tone had caught your attention, and it scared you. Had you done something so stupid that night to force him into pretending like you didn't exist again?

"Of course you don't." He sneered at your lack of an answer, his unbrushed hair falling to the left a tad as he tilted his head at you in a condescending fashion. "Too busy indulging in your own selfish pleasures with that gigantic oaf that dwells with the creatures in the Forbidden Forest. Fitting, really, wouldn't you say?"

Your mouth fell open at the way he'd insulted Hagrid, and you really could not believe what you had just heard. "Excuse me?" You scoffed.

"Need I repeat myself?" Snape grunted, his fingers flying up to massage the bridge of his nose in irritation. Your brows furrowed in utter confusion and partial anger at him. You'd let him insult you, but insulting anyone else that you held dear to you was crossing the line.

"Why must you be so rude and horrible at times, Severus? You were so different in your office that night," you sighed exasperatedly, "You were a totally different person." You added quietly, your voice soft. Snape shut his eyes for a couple seconds, his brows slowly furrowing together, silently fending off his emotions that were dying to break through.

"That night was a mistake. You never should have come." Snape spat. Your eyes widened in shock at his words, and you could almost hear the crack that split your heart in two. Did he really just say that to your face? He really... felt that way? That night when the two of you crossed a line, he thought it was a mistake, something to forget about; to dismiss like it was nothing. How could he possibly think that? You saw the way he looked at you, and you had been sure that there was something more between the two of you. The way he held you so softly and tenderly had almost cemented it for you. And now he was saying it wasn't real.

"Don't say that." You clenched your jaw, biting back your emotions. "That night meant something to me, even if you told me to leave prematurely."

"That's a pity, then, Y/N, because it did not mean anything to me." Snape hissed at you. He was mocking you and his voice grew colder and more ruthless by the second. Something changed within him, and it was breaking your heart. The two of you had been fine before that night- fuck, was this your fault? Your chest tightened at his knife-like words and you felt like crying again.

"That's not true." You said softly, grasping at straws to keep your emotions in check.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Severus seethed. He looked furious now. His eyes were merciless, and the dent between his brows had deepened tremendously as he frowned at you. As you stared at him, you saw no flicker of a feeling nor emotion on his face. He was cold. Unmoving. Maybe he had just accepted your hand that night to appease you. Merlin, did he do that out of pity? Another wave of anger and embarrassment seeped into your balled fists.

You didn't reply, you didn't even want to give him the time of day after that conversation. That seemed to have settled it for you. Snape did not feel the same way as you did for him, and you needed to move on. You were only going to cause yourself more hurt if you didn't.

The first day of Spring at Hogwarts had finally sprung, and the grass had shifted from a dull green to a rather vibrant green. Beautiful shoots of pastel-coloured flowers began to appear along the pathways to and from the castle, painting the once dreary-looking area bright. As much as you thought the season of Winter could be beautiful at times, nothing compared to Spring. You adored the flowers that bloomed, and the influx of little insects and creatures that began to buzz busily around the fauna. On the way back to your classes, you'd found yourself bending down to sniff the greenery; a pleasant, soft floral fragrance filling your nose and heart with joy. If you hadn't been able to become a Herbologist, a Florist would have been your second choice for sure. Plants, flowers and anything herby made you happy.

Currently, you were hurrying yourself back to the greenhouse, and you were running a little late after having a pleasant conversation with Minerva in the hallway. You reached the greenhouse just in time, albeit a little out of breath after running to make up the time lost.

"Sorry I'm a little late," You announced to the class, panting and smiling a little apologetically. "How is everyone today?" You asked, standing in front of the table that you had fallen asleep on all those months ago whilst tending to the Mandrakes. Your stomach tied itself into an anxious knot as memories of you and Snape in his classroom brewing the Mandrake Restorative Draught began to replay like a broken record within your mind. It was a bittersweet feeling, and you were rather unhappy at the reaction your body was having to the thought of him.

A chorus of 'good' and 'okay' broke through the silence, and you nodded softly, your smile widening as you glanced at the students. "Lovely," you said, sighing, "So-"

"Professor, why is there a note from Professor Snape here?" Draco Malfoy voiced inquisitively, holding up a piece of parchment. As Draco spoke his name, your stomach dropped. The sunlight shone through it, revealing Severus's ridiculously neat handwriting, sending a knife through your heart. You clenched your jaw and paused for a moment. Why did he have to be everywhere you looked? Everything was tainted with him, and you hated it.

"Erm," You stumbled. Blinking rapidly, you walked over to where Draco was and took it from his pinched fingers, your eyes scanning over the piece of paper repeatedly.

'Y/N,

Keeping to my promise, I've left this note to let you know that I have kindly borrowed an ounce of aconite.

Severus.'

Your breathing hitched at the sight, and it suddenly felt like you could either faint, or scream; you could not tell. You didn't believe he would truly remember your request all that time ago, yet here you were, reading that exact thing. The two of you hadn't spoken much - barely, if anything - and you thought you'd healed from this fucking mess. Clearly, from your body's reaction, that was a delusional lie that you had wholeheartedly believed. Your fingers and toes were tingling with pins and needles and it was sending you into a frenzy.

"Professor?" Draco's curious, yet worried voice pulled you from your thoughts. You glanced up at the boy, a blank expression on your face.

"Yes?"

"What's Professor Snape doing leaving you little love notes?" He quipped teasingly, an amused glint twinkling in his blue eyes.

"Excuse me?" You said quietly, in complete disbelief that he had just uttered those words.

"Well, it seems a little perso-" You cut him off before he could finish.

"Detention, Malfoy," You interrupted him, physically unable to hear more about it. The whole class was now staring at you, and you could feel your heart start to beat faster once more; a sign of anxiety. This was very out of character for you, and they all knew it. Something wasn't right. "This evening."

Almost immediately, Draco scoffed at your announcement, clearly stating his disagreement with it. "What, why?!"

"Do not push me today, Mr Malfoy." You said sternly and Malfoy silenced himself, a little shocked at your unusual authoritative tone. You looked back down at the note in your hand, your eyes tracing over every letter that Snape had elegantly scribed. Some of the students had silently deduced that your change in persona was perhaps to do with Snape.

Gods, you could not believe this. Who does he think he is to suddenly start leaving notes? Why is he doing this now? You didn't need this, you didn't want this anymore, and yet he had dug up your feelings once more like a dead body at the graveyard. All those weeks thinking you were done feeling something for him was a lie.

You angrily shoved the note in a drawer to your left and sighed heavily, walking back to the head of the table. A look of shock had found itself on the faces of your class, and you instantly felt guilty. The thought of paying the Bat a visit slipped into your head, and it twisted your guts. You'd only tell him it wasn't necessary anymore to leave notes, but you were so persistent before about it, you'd only make yourself look like a weak fool, and that was one thing you were not going to do in front of Snape.

"I apologise, I'm just having a bad day." You mumbled, closing your eyes for a moment to recoup your brain. "If we could all just... behave well today, I'd really appreciate it. I'll even take back your detention, Mr Malfoy." You added, glancing at the platinum-haired boy. His eyes lit up at the sound of losing his detention you'd angrily assigned him.

"Alright, let's begin, shall we? You'll be learning about Fluxweed and it's properties and uses."

As time went on, more and more notes began to appear in your greenhouse. You and Snape hadn't spoken since that late Winter evening in the Great Hall when you were late to dinner. He'd clearly shown what he thought of you, so, you were completely confused as to why he was putting in the effort to leave all of these notes. If he hated you so much, wouldn't he just not tell you he'd taken things to further piss you off? You felt like he was doing it on purpose to torment you.

You'd let his notes pile up and gather dust in your drawer, some of them crumpled up when you'd lost your temper and broken down in tears in your greenhouse, upset and heartbroken by the tainted relationship you had with Snape. You wished things were not as they were. Gods, the pain that seared through you each time you locked eyes with the man was unbearable. Be it in the hallways, the corridors, or the Great Hall across the dining table, he'd truly broken you, whether it was intentional or unintentional. You were ruined.

Were you really that fucked up in the head that a man like him was the only man you desired so badly? Why couldn't you just move on from him? You'd begged and prayed to the gods above, day and night, to free you from his chains, but they didn't listen. Each long and tearful night, you wondered what you did to deserve this suffering. There was nothing quite fucking worse than unrequited love.

The thought of going to tell Snape to stop sending the notes and just to take what he wanted without telling you circled around in your mind almost twenty-four-seven hours a day. Each time you were about to do it, you'd back out. You couldn't backtrack like that, you dreaded the thought of him thinking you weak; that was one thing you would not do.

All verbal communication that was considered chit chat or small talk between you and Snape had ceased to exist by the time Summer rolled around. You had to distance yourself from him if you wanted to move on. You were hurting. Terribly. All you wanted to do was talk to him, or even just be around him, but it wasn't fair on you, let alone the fact that he probably didn't even want to talk to you anyway - the last words he spoke to you said it all. The only thing left that could be considered 'communication' between you two was the notes he'd scribble down each time he visited your greenhouse, and each time you found them, you found yourself numb to the pain that pricked at your skin each time your eyes skimmed over his stupidly perfect handwriting.

Not completely numb, but numb enough.

Tonight was the last night at Hogwarts until September. On one hand, you couldn't wait to leave and be free of your grief for a month and a half, and on the other hand, you were dreading it. Part of you was screaming at you to stay and fix things with Snape, and the other part was crying to you, telling you that you had to leave, and that it was true he felt nothing for you. You thought back to the beginning of the year when things weren't tainted and completely fucked. It was heart-wrenching to reminisce on those days. It almost brought you to tears thinking about the time you and Snape had got along during the Duelling Club, when he was almost beaming with pride after watching you dominate Lockhart. From then on, he was hooked with you, but you'd never know that.

For Snape, he was dreading the Summer without seeing you. He'd absolutely fucking hated the past few months. The only thing that kept him going through until the end of the year was seeing glimpses of you around the castle. If he was honest with himself, he deeply regretted kicking you out of his office that night. That was when it all went to shit. He'd fallen victim to his fear again, choosing the selfish, easy way out. Perhaps he'd be happy with you right at this current moment if he just let you stay. Perhaps he'd be kissing you right now, holding you impossibly close to his body, embracing you and breathing in your addicting scent. Perhaps the two of you would even be spending the Summer break together.

Merlin, how did he fuck up this bad? It was too late to take anything back now, that's what he thought, at least. He'd deemed your relationship dead, unrevivable. He'd truly messed up.

"At last, the school year has come to an end," Dumbledore's old, wise voice boomed through the Great Hall as he stood at his golden Owl Lecturn. All of the students and staff were listening intently. However, you found yourself looking at someone entirely different. "This year has been challenging for all, and I hope we can all take some well-learned lessons home with us for the Summer, to come back refreshed and ready for the next year here at Hogwarts." Was the last thing Dumbledore said before you zoned out into a daydream.

Your eyes were glued to Severus, lingering on his features that you'd grown to adore and loathe. You hated him at this current moment, but Merlin, you couldn't deny how handsome he was. The way his dark, black shoulder-length hair framed his long and pale face was like an art piece. You let your eyes travel down to his shoulders, your mind growing hazy and distracted as you began to think how it'd feel to touch him again, your fingers running through his hair as he pressed his lips against your neck, his hot breath tickling your sensitive and bare skin. You'd have your chest pressed flush against his as he worshipped your body with precise skill, working it like he'd known it for a thousand years.

On the other hand, you wanted to scream at him, curse him for the rest of his life, just for the cruel way he'd treated you during this year at Hogwarts.

Your provocative fantasy came to a crashing halt when Hagrid leant down to whisper in your ear.

"Yer starin', Y/N." He mumbled awkwardly, eyes still attached to Dumbledore. You blushed furiously, slightly embarrassed that Hagrid, of all people, had caught you mentally undressing and eye-fucking Snape. He was the one you had confided in the past months, so he knew how you felt about Severus - every single emotion.

Apart from one.

"Oh," You cleared your throat, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the Potions Master. Deep down, you were unsure you'd ever fully move on from Severus, it just didn't feel... right.

"Thought ya hated 'im." Hagrid mumbled again, a hint of teasing in his tone, but he kept his voice low as Dumbledore spoke.

"I... it's complicated." You sighed quietly, taking a risk and glancing at Severus again. Your heart dropped slightly when he wasn't looking back at you. You shouldn't be surprised, nor disappointed. "I just can't wait to get out of here for the Summer."

And just like that, Dumbledore announced the end of the year. You couldn't help but smile the moment the Victorian house came into view as you Apparated from Hogsmeade to Windsor. Being back home at your humble abode in Berkshire sent a feeling of relief and peace through you. It almost felt like the past year's travesties hadn't even happened. When not teaching, you lived in a quaint cottage in the Windsor countryside. It was set down a quiet lane, overlooking the historic and iconic Windsor castle in the distance; a field of horses and summer flowers sat opposite it. It was rather dreamy, and you were incredibly thankful to your late grandmother for leaving it to you in her will. The house was built with red bricks, adorned with a pretty, white trim set around the triangular rooves. Vibrant green fauna decorated the edges of the large windows, almost framing it like a photograph.

Your favourite part of the house was the garden. It wasn't huge, but it wasn't small and it was perfect for just you. Bushes upon bushes of roses and lilies lined the edges, and your heart warmed at the sight of the bees buzzing around them all. With a strained sigh, you walked into the cottage, the familiar smell of candles and fresh lilies hitting your nose. It was a refreshing change from the usual dusty and musky smell of Hogwarts.

As you walked into your living room and dining room, you couldn't help but feel a little pang of sadness shoot through your chest. You'd imagined yourself here with Severus a couple of times, eating breakfast early in the morning, watching the sunrise as it gently woke the world up with it's warm, amber rays. And suddenly, all over again, you were a mess. You let yourself cry. You didn't hold them back, nor bottle them up. The fear of being caught had disappeared. You were alone.

As the tears rolled down your cheeks, your body began to feel hot; anger and frustration bubbling within your chest. Everything that you'd held to yourself at work was starting to crumble and fall, collapsing all around you like ash. Your eyes burned like a fire in a furnace as you squeezed them so tightly shut, silently begging for this pain to be over. You balled your fists, your nails leaving a painful imprint on your palms as you released them with a strangled gasp, your sobs becoming uncontrollable as your mind began to torture you with the memories of the past year.

'Have you no brain?' Taunted Snape, his lips curling into a disapproving sneer. You remember the way your heart beat pounded relentlessly as he leaned in towards you, his squinting eyes piercing you like a needle into a balloon.

'You are still that silly girl who did not think before she spoke.' He'd chastised, sending you into a small fit of rage.

'Lockhart came to me,' You'd said after he accused you of being nosy in other people's problems. 'Poor choice, clearly.' He'd replied bitterly, glaring down at you.

'Severus, you may call me Severus.' He said calmly, earning a surprised frown from you. The moment you broke through to him, and he'd finally accepted you as a colleague - nothing more, nothing less.

'Nicely done.' He'd muttered to you, his face proud but muted, as you'd defeated Lockhart in a duel. You were sure there was something else lingering in those eyes that day, but you could never put your finger on it.

'I wasn't the best student for you,' you'd laughed softly in his classroom, stirring the Mandrake Draught. 'No, but you weren't the worst.' Snape had replied with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

'Don't believe anything that gloomy bat says,' Madam Pomfrey's stern voice suddenly echoed in your mind.

You were thinking back to the moment you had caught Severus's eyes in the Great Hall when Dumbledore was acknowledging your tremendous help with the Mandrake Restorative Draught. He was gazing at you proudly, a small yet hesitant smile upon his lips.

Then, your most cherished memory with Snape flooded your mind. You felt more tears begin to pour from your puffy, reddened eyes as you reminisced in your living room.

'Dance with me?' You'd asked quietly amongst the hammering of your nervous heart, as the slow and melancholic rock song played softly in the background, holding out your hand for Snape to take a hold of. He'd taken your soft hand in his cold, calloused one, and you pulled him slowly to the middle of the room. You remembered how nervous yet happy you were, the way your eyes sparkled with silent joy as you stared up at Severus, his other hand settling safely on your waist. The two of you relished in each other's company, swaying slowly, side to side, gradually breaking down the highly impenetrable guard that he'd had up.

It broke your heart all over again, as his harsh, sudden words pierced your ears.

'Get out.' Snape had ordered, taking you by surprise.

You had been so close. So close to finally breaking into his walls, and at the last moment, he'd built them all up again, double the defences.

Tomorrow was a new day, and you'd deemed it a good time to take your mind off of everything. You needed to get out of your house. It was sending you into a fucking frenzy. So, you chose to Apparate to London - more specifically The Leaky Cauldron. Okay, it was a terrible idea, but you just needed to see other people - people you didn't know, and people that... Severus didn't know.

So here you were, standing outside of the pub, hesitant on entering. You were getting cold feet. Maybe you should just go to Diagon Alley instead, and browse the pretty shops filled with artifacts, wands, fresh smelling books and magical sweets. In all honesty, that sounded more enthralling than sitting in a dim pub, nursing a mug of whiskey.

As you were about to turn on your heel and head to Diagon Alley, a weirdly familiar voice called your name.

"Y/N?" You frowned, your head turning slightly to find the source. It was a man for sure, and it was ridiculously familiar. Shit, where have you heard that voice before? "Y/N L/N?"

You spun on your heels, your eyes almost popping out of your head as no one other than Benjamin fucking Bluewater stood in front of you. He wasn't that weaselly, little nuisance anymore. No, no, he'd grown. And grown like hell he had. He stood at least six feet tall, a five o'clock shadow peppering his rather well-defined jawline and mouth. His dark hair was no longer styled in an embarrassing bowl-cut, it was thick and pushed back, accentuating his strong forehead, and prominent cheekbones. You found yourself blushing whilst looking at him.

"Holy shit, Benjamin Bluewater?" You gasped, shaking your head lightly at him in disbelief. A million-dollar grin broke out on his face. Good lord, you thought, he'd really changed...

"The one and only." Bluewater chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets bashfully.

"You look... great." You were speechless. This could not be happening. Your heart was pounding so fast that you genuinely could not comprehend anything. Merlin, were you dreaming?

"As do you, Y/N." He grinned at you again, sending goosebumps up your arms. His eyes flicked from yours to the Leaky Cauldron behind you, and he gestured towards the pub with a nod. "It's been a long time, would you like to, err, grab a drink or something? It'd be nice to catch up." Benjamin smiled politely at you. Shit, what the hell, why the hell not? Fuck it.

"I'd love to." You returned his smile, shrugging your shoulders gently. Benjamin's smile grew into a grin as he placed a gentlemanly hand on the small of your back, guiding you into the pub.

"So, what's new with you, then?" Benjamin asked, his eyes flicking over your reddening face. You swallowed nervously, laughing.

"Erm, well, I'm working at Hogwarts as a professor." You replied nonchalantly as the two of you strolled to the bar area.

"Are the professors that taught us still there?" He asked curiously, showing genuine interest in what you were saying. It was nice for once. Severus was so scarce with that.

"Yes," You laughed lightly, though you winced slightly at Snape passed through your mind. "McGonagall, Flitwick, Dumbledore, Hagrid... all of them are still there." You avoided his name.

"Is that grumpy git Snape still there?" Bluewater questioned, his face twisting into a expression of distaste as he glanced at the barkeep. A small ripple of sadness washed over you, you knew Snape wasn't a favourite with the students, but he wasn't exactly a bad... no, no, he was a terrible person, you corrected yourself. We are no doing that right now.

"Yeah." You nodded, pursing your lips.

"He was a bastard, always had it out for me." Benjamin tutted. You winced a little at his words. You might have a tainted relationship with Snape, but you still cared deeply for him, and it hurt you when people spoke badly about him, no matter what he did.

"Well, I doubt your pranks did you any good." You quipped playfully, trying to lighten the mood. A mischievous grin spread across Benjamin's sculpted face. You felt your knees tingle.

"I was an arsehole in school, I'll admit that. I don't know how I survived Hogwarts, honestly." A hearty laugh left Benjamin's lips. "I bet it's a pain working with that schmuck." He added bitterly, ordering two bottles of cider for the two of you.

"Yeah," You laughed awkwardly, glancing away for a moment, tears pricking your eyes a tad. You hated how your heart ached at the way Benjamin insulted Severus. "He's... well, he's Snape, you know what he's like." You finished quickly, desperate to change the subject. "What are you up to now? Something fancy surely?"

"I wouldn't say fancy, I just work at the Ministry." Bluewater shrugged nonchalantly, taking a swig of his cider as he handed you the other bottle. "I'm the Junior Undersecretary." He said, staring at you, almost like he was waiting for a reaction. Your eyebrows raised a little at how casually he admitted that.

"Oh, really? Wow, that's... wow, I really did not expect that." You said honestly, a little shocked at his confession.

"You didn't expect that?" He repeated, laughing, taking another swig.

"Well, no, not after how you were in school, Benjamin!" You scoffed, grinning.

"Ben," he corrected you, smiling, "Benjamin is too formal. Feels like I'm talking to my mother." Another laugh left your lips. Well, his charming and comedic personality certainly hadn't changed, that was for sure.

"Alright, Ben," You smiled coyly, eyeing the small peek of skin poking out from his unbuttoned shirt. You flicked your eyes back up to him, and he tilted his head at you. "Being the Junior Undersecretary, does that mean you've met the Minister for Magic?"

"Only a couple times."

"What's he like?" You asked, sipping on your cider, prompting Ben to lean in towards you. Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden close proximity.

"Between you and me, a bit of a delusional man." He whispered, his brown eyes gazing a little too deep into yours. For a split second, you were transported back to the times you and Severus were at each other's throats in the corridors of Hogwarts. You cheeks flushed at the thought, and you quickly pushed it to the side, your body stiffening.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, the man's bound to go insane any day now, really. Think the job's taking a toll on him." Ben said, his eyes glancing around the pub, observing the hustle and bustle.

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised," You frowned. "That's a hell of a job."

"I'm sure it's nothing compared to being a professor at Hogwarts though?" Ben teased, making you roll your eyes.

"Very funny," You smiled, averting your eyes from him for a moment. "I mean, it's hard, but not impossibly hard. The grading takes a toll sometimes, but the rest of the time it's quite rewarding. Seeing your students learning from you, it feels like you've achieved something."

"Let me guess, Herbology?" He cocked a brow at you, another similar gesture that Severus did. Can he leave your mind for one day? Fuck.

"How did you guess?" You replied sarcastically, smiling.

"I don't know, but if my memory serves me well, you were rather gifted at the subject," Ben admitted, playing along with you. Your smile widened at his compliment. "And let's not forget that you were obsessed with all sorts of flowers, plants and herbs, carrying them with you everywhere you went!"

"Oh, gods, yeah..." Your cheeks reddened at the thought, slightly embarrassed at your younger antics. "At least I didn't go around planting stink bombs amongst other things in classrooms."

"At least I wasn't a Herbology nerd." Ben quipped playfully, inducing a gasp from you.

The two of you spoke for hours in the pub, until it reached around six in the evening. You'd totally lost track of time.

"It was lovely seeing you again, Ben." You smiled up at your old classmate, your eyes flicking between his blue ones. As much as he was attractive, you weren't sure there was a spark there, not like the one you'd felt with Severus.

"Likewise, Y/N," Ben replied, grinning handsomely at you. "Erm, do you think you'd like to see me again? Perhaps on... Friday? Seven o'clock?"

"Are you asking me out?" You chuckled incredulously, in slight disbelief. Ben's grin brightened as he stared down at you. Surely Benjamin 'the menace' Bluewater wasn't asking you out.

"Yeah, if that's okay. I'd always thought you were rather sweet." He said casually, making your cheeks burn. "I suppose it helps that you're absolutely stunning, too. Always a bonus."

"Aren't you a flirt?" You laughed lightly, considering his offer. You pondered for a moment. Maybe it'd be good to go on this date, maybe you'd see something in him. Maybe it would help with your whole... Snape situation. Maybe you'd actually heal. So you accepted it. "Sure, I'd like that. Send me an owl." You smiled softly up at him.

"Your address?"

"If it's meant to be, it'll find me." You grinned cheekily.

"Ahh, I see how it is!" Ben returned your grin, his cheeks a little merry and red from the alcohol the two of you'd consumed. You hummed flirtatiously in reply. "Well, it was a pleasure, Y/N. See you on Friday." He said, confidence clear in his tone. You cocked a challenging brow at him.

"Oh really?"

"Really." Ben nodded. He reached down and took your hand gently, pressing a soft kiss upon your knuckles to bid you goodnight; prompting your cheeks to pinken once more tonight. "Goodnight, Y/N." He let go of your hand, a soft laugh erupting from your lips.

"Goodnight, Ben." You smiled at him, watching him turn and walk away, disappearing into the night.

You weren't sure about this, but it felt good to have your mind on things - or someone other than Severus.

Part 8!

okkkk I hope you guys don’t kill me for the last part, ooooo. I thought it might be fun… ehehe

Thank you for reading, let me know what you think!! I can’t wait to start the next part, I’m so excited!! My brain is buzzing with ideas for Prisoner of Azkaban 😎 love you guys. don’t forget to sleep and eat 🖤

Taglist: (I hope I haven’t missed anyone)

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

@881127fara

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[ask-elliot-doorman-fam]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN YALL!

Haunters Eve-

“This is embarrassing Kia…” Tera mumbled, looking at herself in the mirror, she was dressed as a cat, a black cat, the ears poking out from her mane of black hair, most of it held back in a wolf's tail.

Black fur covered felt covered the cord of her tail, the only part uncovered was the head; which protested bring covered by anything. Her costume included gloves shaped like paws- the world's most unflattering black leather jacket, and black shorts.

“You look puuurfect!” Kiara giggled, wearing a witch costume, pointy hat and all.

“Ugh… I think I'd rather be one of the monsters for Mom's haunted house again…” Tera groaned, which got worse when Kiara rang the bell attached to her neck.

“You promised~” She teased, making Tera's face heat up in blush and a growl escape her core.

“I promised to go to the festival with you and Rad… not to wear a catsuit.”

“Daw but you look sooo cute!” Kiara replied, pushing lightly on Tera's chest, making the solver drone sigh.

“Fine. Whatever, what's Rad going as?”

“Werewolf.”

“So why am I cat?! You're both actual monsters!” Tera protested, slumping in defeat.

“Hehe. Because you said you didn't care what you went as and let me pick it out for you.” Was the worker girls response, standing in the middle of Tera's room, ready to head out.

“Right…”

Kiara grabbed her wrist and out the door they went, tumbling down the walkway stairs and ending up on the ground in a minute flat.

The little town of Sanctuary was lit up in a festive hue, lights of purple, orange, and green, banners of every color depicting drone cores. There were booths full of games and prizes that ranged from food to plushies to electronic parts, and a stage with live music.

Of course… there was also a big, spooky temporary structure sat at the mouth of the front gate- the haunted house, run by the Chieftess Uzi Doorman herself.

“Hey dudes!” Said a voice from behind them, and there stood Rad, green eyes mixing well with the shaggy brown ears stuck on his hat and a limp tail attached to his shorts. He was wearing tattered rags with faux fur lining the arm and leg holes…

“Nice witch K! And uh…” He looked Tera up and down, snickering a little. “Cute kitty.” He teased.

Tera whipped forward and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, about to yell about how she absolutely was not cute- only for her big paw gloves to squeak loudly.

Rad began to laugh histericly, despite still being lifted into the air. “Oh my god! That's the best!”

Tera flustered, putting him down and crossing her arms. “I'm not cute.”

“Tell that to the squeaky paws.” Rad smirked, earning him a few more indignant grumbles.

“Soooo? Haunted House first? Lines not long and we have a whole night!” Rad suggested, pointing at the open maw of the gate that served as the entrance.

“Sure. Not like it's gonna be actually scary.” Tera shrugged. Looking a bit aloof, owning her costume accidentally.

“Awesome! -Ah wait, Kiara?”

“Um… shouldn't we do that last? It's like, the best thing to do right? Like a uh- grand finale!” There was sweat on the inside of her visor, and her voice shook.

“You're not scared are you princess?” Tera teased, lifting an eyebrow.

“N-No! Of course not!” Kiara protested. “I just think it's a better thing to do last.”

Tera and Rad looked at each other with equal shit eating grins.

“Yeah. Were going.” They said in unison, all but dragging the eldest member of the group into the maw of the unknown.

Once they pass the blackout curtains, they arrive in a recreation of the Outpost-3’s bunker doors, wide open, snow blistering from the beyond and the howling of angry winds blasting against the mouth of the underground shelter.

“Holy hell! Your mom has got the atmosphere down! It almost feels like I'm really there!” Rad exclaimed taking in the painstakingly recreated environment.

“Yeah well… Halloween is her favorite holiday.” Tera replied, heading up to where the guides were… which was just her Dad. N.

“Hey kids! I just got done with the last group. You want to go through?” His head tilted to the side and his tail wagged, he wasn't dressed up as anything. Just himself, which was perfectly on theme.

“Yes please Mr. Doorman!” Rad exclaimed in excitement, and N laughed in response. “For this tour, call me by my name…” He said eerily, visor flickering into an X and his head beginning to twitch.

“Ooooh. Spooky.” Came from Rad. Tera just chuckled and Kiara just smiled warily, scooting a bit closer to Tera.

“Follow Me.” N hummed, disappearing behind a black curtain painted to look like a ventilation shaft, and the trio went along with him, Rad leading the charge.

N lead them through a dark corridor, His voice becoming echoed.

“Before we settled here… we lived on a planet called Copper-9-' The sound of wind blew more harshly, hail pattering against the walls… “Somewhere frozen, Inhospitable, a broken, forsaken place.”

“The worker drones were safe in the bunker… but outside?”

Three giant claws erupted through the ceiling next to Tera's head. Kiara jumped a foot in the air, and Rad yelped, Tera just ducked slightly with a laugh. “Hey V.” She hummed deadpan.

“Outside there were monsters… Angels of Death that swooped down in the night, stealing away anyone caught outside the safety of the walls.”

“Aren't you a Dissasembly Drone too?” Tera called out. Knowing every keyword the attraction had by heart.

N stopped in the middle of the hall at her words before suddenly whipping around, smiling maniacally, swiping his claws just shy of actually making contact with any of the group.

He growled before pulling back. “I have more… self control…”

Rad looked impressed, whistling at the showmanship. And Tera smirked, Kiara laughed but it sounded nervous, her eyes flickering to the hall they'd just went through.

“Come on, it's just my dad.” Tera hummed, just quiet enough for Rad not to hear. Kiara laughed a little.

“I-I know! I'm not scared!”

“As I was saying… there are monsters outside.”

The audio of utter carnage began to soak through the wall; gunfire, screams, the sounds of drones being ripped apart and eaten.

“But… they don't compare to the horrors beneath the planets crust.”

The hallway opened up the room swarmed by black tentacles, erupting from the ground crawling on walls… the red overhead light made it seem like they were moving…

“Up from the depths, all drones are consumed- no matter their make or model.”

Tera shuffles uncomfortably. She never liked this section even when she was activly working in it, it always made her feel uneasy.

Kiara screams. Activating all the alarms in Tera's head, Kiara grips onto her- something pulling her down into the floor. Rad yelps as something grabs his leg too.

Tera grabs them both, acting on instinct and lifting them both off the floor with one hand, Rad in in left hand, and Kiara in her right.

She hears giggling underneath the floor and sighs.

It's the twins.

“We shouldn't linger here.” N hums ominously, inviting them to follow. And Tera drops her freinds back onto the ground.

“Come on scardy cats.” She groans before moving on, ignoring the comment from Rad about her costume.

The next room is one the Doorman family likes to lovingly call, “The Chase”

There are multiple ‘infected’ drones clawing at a fence behind them, before them is a long dark hallway, only at the end is there light.

“This is what happens to drones caught by the infection.’ N utters, his voice seeming to spur on the excitement of the infected, they growl and hiss, tentacles incasing their arms or legs- even entire face.

And then one fucking screams. Beginning to climb the gate at an unnatural speed.

“RUN!” N shouts. As the rest of the infected scale the fence to reach them, Rads the first one off, half-yelling, half-laughing as the first one leaps over the fence and sprints towards them.

Kiara is frozen though. Standing shock still as two more hit the ground running.

“Kia! Move!” Tera shouts before, taking her onto her shoulders and sprinting down the hall, but there's one drone that can somehow keep pace with her, hot on her heels as she has to actually TRY to get away.

It was probably Bishop. But that revelation only came later.

The infected drone swipes at them, just barely missing as they fall into the next room, quite literally plummeting a few feet onto a pile of pillows.

N does not follow… they are on their own.

Tera maneuvers herself so that she breaks Kiara's fall. She knew there were pillows, but old habits don't die with that knowledge. And so the worker lands on top of her with a grunt.

They both pant breathlessly, Tera staring up at the worker that has her pinned to the ground, her arms either side of her head.

Then she starts laughing. “Dammit! I knew that was coming and I still got surprised!”

Kiara joins her a moment later, both flying into a fit of giggles. “You goob! And you called me scared!”

After a moment, they climb out of the pile, pulling back a curtain to reveal a room that's pitch black…

“Rad? Raaaaad?” Kiara calls out, and gets no response. Tera squints into the darkness, it's oppressive and even the eyes on her tail struggle to make out anything.

Then- feedback noise so loud it makes Kiara wince and Tera nearly double over, yellow light rises from the floor, the entire room spinning and spinning…

The walls are flesh, the floor is flesh… there's something moving on the ceiling, it curls and coils in strange patterns, lurching unnaturally, it's humanoid then it's not, dozens of eyes in the shape of camera lenses stare at them.

Tera freezes, she knows what this room is, she's been in this room, worked here, been the one controlling the thing on the ceiling and yet being down here brought a whole new feeling.

It was the thing from her nightmares- the creature she'd been fighting every other night in her sleep, it was here, staring, looking into her soul to try and seize it from her.

She's pulled out of the room by the wrist, ending up back in the beginning room. The bunker. Her core pounding out of her chest, she doesn't realize it. But she's trembling.

“Tera? You alright?” Kiara's voice brings her out of it, and she snaps back to reality. Her Dad is back behind the desk, and Rad was chatting with some random worker in their own group.

“Wh- Yeah! Totally!” She quickly recovers, shaking off the feeling of dread and finding herself grounded by Kiara holding her hand- when had that happened?

“Alright! Let's head to the rest of the festival!” Rad runs back over to them, giddy beyond reason. Kiara's hand is quickly no longer there.

“Thank god… no more haunted house.” Kiara laughs, seeming to relax a lot more after the ordeal was over.

Tera found herself agreeing…

“Yeah. Let's just head to the rest of the festival…”

[sunlightandsuffering]

HALLOWEENERY

   I’m, like, 85% sure my neighbor/roommate is a supernatural creature, even though they technically shouldn’t exist.

Mikasa isn’t 100 % sure that her next-door neighbour is a vampire…but she’s pretty sure, like 99%. 

What an absurd suggestion one might say, in fact even Sasha, resident Halloween lover had balked at the idea. 

“Mikasa, you’re being ridiculous he’s not a vampire, he probably just works nights or something.” Sure… sure…

But since the day she first met him, Mikasa has kept a meticulous log of their every interaction, every thump from his apartment, every time she heard his keys jingle in the lock. And never once has she heard him during the day, not ever. Sure, the log had started out a little more subconscious than anything, he was hot, the kind of handsome that girls dreamed of, the stuff of daydreams and fantasies. How could she not keep a mental catalogue of every time she saw him? 

But now, nearly a year later, as Halloween creeps closer, Mikasa has come to the disturbing realization that her next-door neighbour is most certainly a vampire. 

Eren Jaeger. Even his name sounds a little vampiric, old, imposing, and vaguely German!? 

Vampires were supposed to be from Romania! Romania and Germany were pretty close, it’s basically proof! And then there were his looks, there was just no way a guy like him wasn’t a supernatural creature, there’s simply no way a human being could be that handsome. He’s like her walking fantasy, dark brown hair framing his pretty face, that strong jawline, and those eyes, god those eyes, she could spend hours cataloguing every shade of green in those eyes. But forget his looks, the most damning evidence was the fact that she had never, not once seen him in the daylight. 

And she had sure fucking tried. Mikasa had tried to orchestrate several daylight meet-cutes, it was actually what had clued her into his possible vampirism in the first place.

She’d knocked, left cupcakes, hell, she’d even started a fire (she’d gotten in major trouble with her landlord for that one) and all to no avail, not even the blare of the fire alarm had gotten him out of his apartment during the daylight. 

All of this to say, Mikasa is pretty sure Eren Jaeger is a vampire. 

Is it weird that she finds it kind of hot, in a very non-twilight sort of way. She doesn’t want to be cliché about it, but she wouldn’t mind if he sucked her blood. 

And today, well today Mikasa is going to find out for sure. It is the middle of the day. Noon, as sunny as it can get for a brisk October, the sun shining gloomily over the clouds, turning her apartment bright in the sort of hazy grey way only October can truly accomplish. 

Mikasa is wearing nothing but a towel, naked as the day she was born, hair soaked, just a little bit of waterproof mascara, and standing outside her apartment balcony freezing her ass off. 

She’s locked herself out accidentally on purpose, but whatever, hypothermia is worth it. 

She needs to prove to Sasha, herself even, that her neighbour really is a vampire. She has it on good authority that he hasn’t left the apartment since last night either, she’d made sure by camping out next to her door all night just to be sure. It’s now or never. Carefully, and with very frozen fingers because yeah it might be sunny, but it’s October, and it shows, Mikasa climbs over the railing separating her and Eren’s balcony. 

The view of his apartment through the sliding glass door is unhelpfully blocked by large blackout curtains, and Mikasa scowls. But oh well, one point for the vampire theory. 

Then, Mikasa knocks. 

Once. Twice. Three times, four times

By the eleventh knock, Mikasa is starting to realize the flaw in her meticulously laid plans. The flaw is that if Eren really is a vampire he will not be coming outside for the life of him and as the temperature dips lower, the wind blowing the clouds high above her to block out the sun, she realizes very quickly she really could get hypothermia. Shit. 

Her knocks begin to get a little more frantic now, tinged with the reality that’s setting in. 

She is locked out of her apartment, on her neighbour’s balcony wearing nothing but a towel and about to freeze her ass off. 

She infinitely regrets shaving this morning, her legs are delightfully smooth, soft to the touch but chilled to the bone.

The wet hair, she thinks as she slams her fist into the glass pane was a particularly painful touch, crispy now as it freezes over into icicle shaped points. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. She doesn’t even have her phone. She’s a fucking nursing student, she’s usually not this stupid. Mikasa blames Eren entirely, or maybe Sasha for hyping her up so much about proving Eren is in fact a vampire. With one more slam of her fist against the window, Mikasa, fingers numb to the pain now, knuckles bruising without colour because all the blood is leaving her extremities, she is finally saved. The door opens with savagery, curtains pulling back to reveal a very angry, very hot and thoroughly disgruntled neighbour. He looks surprised to see its her, and then as he takes in the full state of her undress, his eyes widen impossibly and the next thing she knows she’s being yanked into the delicious warmth of his apartment. “Mikasa what the fuck?” Her teeth are chattering too much for her to respond, and before she can really think about it, her traitorous heat-seeking body is seeking out the first source of warmth it can find, and it just so happens to be Eren. 

Her arms are wound around his neck like an Octopus, her face tucked into his chest and she sighs in audible relief because he is so fucking warm. He is so, so warm, the heat is heavenly, she can barely think, plastering herself against him, and all the movement has her towel slipping and Mikasa doesn’t even mind, barely even notices. All she can think about is how warm he is, delirium setting in as she burrows closer, inhaling the scent of clean mint and laundry detergent, her face nuzzled against the soft cotton of his shirt. His heart pounds in her ear, pumping blood through his veins with the sole purpose of warming her up, and after a moment his hands are winding around her hips a little awkwardly to tug her closer. “You’re fucking freezing,” He mumbles, hands rubbing circles over her hips as if to rub the feeling back into her, and she pushes closer, craving the contact, her breasts squished against him deliciously. He’s so beautifully warm!

His hands knead over her ass, and she sighs in delight because she can actually feel it now, feeling slowly returning to her chilled limbs. 

Her toes aren’t quite there yet, but wow his hand on her ass sure is nice, feels really good and oh… wait why is his hand on her bare ass? Mikasa realizes the gravity of the situation about five seconds after Eren has the generous curve of her ass cupped in his hands, kneading the flesh with the kind of single-minded determination she would find hot if she wasn’t so horrified. 

His heartbeat is steady against her ear, thump, thump, thump, and the second realization that sets in is almost as bad as the first one. Eren is not in fact a vampire. 

He is very much alive. And very much feeling her up in his living room, because she’d thrown herself at him, completely naked and slightly hypothermic. This is somehow worse than being trapped out on the balcony. Her discomfort must be palpable, her form going stiff and Eren chuckles from above her, the rich timbre vibrating over her whole body deliciously, “You want me to let go yet?” “No,” Mikasa mumbles into his chest, “If you let go you’ll be able to see everything.” She can feel him fighting a smile above her and he gives her ass an affectionate squeeze that has her breath stuttering, “Mikasa, I’ll be a gentleman of course, but I’d like to remind you I can already feel everything sweetheart.” 

She would very much like to die now. “It feels really good if it makes you feel any better,” Eren tells her in amusement and she sighs, unlacing her fingers from where they’re locked around his back and slowly taking a step back, “It doesn’t.” “I won’t look, I promise,” Eren tells her and sure enough as she pulls from his grasp his eyes are shut tight, no peaking at all. 

Mikasa chooses to grab a fluffy looking throw blanket from his couch instead of her wet towel, situating herself on the couch and far from his grasp as she covers up. “I would very much like to look though,” Eren adds conversationally as he listens to her throw the blanket over herself, “So much.” She tamps down her glee, answering him instead, “I’m decent.” His eyes open, green as the trees outside, and he fucking pouts as he takes her in, tucked under a blanket on his couch, “I liked you better naked.” 

At this, Mikasa can’t fight her smile, clutching the blanket a little closer, “Sorry.” Eren sighs, before leaning back on his heels, arms crossed, “Me too, but are you going to tell me why exactly you were on my balcony naked?” Mikasa winces, “I locked myself out?” She hates that it comes out as a question. 

“Naked?” Eren demands, aghast. 

“I umm was just checking out the view.” “You’re unhinged,” He tells her candidly and Mikasa slumps into the couch, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I umm I guess you can stay here until the super gets back, he’s usually around at night.” “Thanks,” Mikasa tells him awkwardly, unsure how to conduct herself now, he was feeling her up not a minute ago where are they supposed to go from here?

Eren looks just as unsure, lip bitten between his teeth and looking her over like he wants to eat her up. 

“So umm what were you doing?” Mikasa asks, because damn it if she’s not going to get an answer. “Sleeping,” Eren responds calmly, and very much not like a vampire trying to hide their biggest secret. “Why?”

Eren looks her over suspiciously, before responding, breaking Mikasa’s sweet little heart into a thousand pieces and proving Sasha correct, “I work nights.” FUCK! 

“So you’re not like a vampire then?” Mikasa clarifies, as if this makes all the sense in the world. Eren does look at her strangely for a moment before shrugging, “No, I’m not a vampire, although I could see where you’d get the impression from.” Mikasa pouts, how disheartening, hypothermia for nothing. “I just work night shifts usually at the hospital I’m a nurse too, I’m a year ahead of you though, I’m doing my practicum right now.” “Oh,” Mikasa murmurs and Eren chuckles, “I should actually really get back to bed to be honest.” Mikasa nods awkwardly as Eren trudges towards his bedroom. He gives her one last curious look backwards as he opens up his bedroom door, “You coming neighbour?” Fuck yes she is. That’s how Mikasa ends up sleeping with her not-vampire neighbour, strictly platonic of course, she was still a little hypothermic he was just warm. 

If there was some platonic touching who is to say, some groping, well no one needs to know. 

It was all just to get her nice and warm again, and as a student nurse she knows it’s important sometimes that happen from the inside out. 

[hischierdevils]

Body Better | N.H.

note: this is based on the song Body Better by Maisie Peters

summary: you come home from a long weekend away to see your loving boyfriend

warnings: lots and lots of angst

wc: 1.6k

Could lay my head up on your chest

And hear I was good for you

Got your heartbeat at its best

You were it for me

Did I just not do it for you superficially

'Cause you were it for me

You had a long drive back to Jersey City after spending New Years Eve weekend with your friend in Pittsburgh and all you could think about was being in Nico’s arms again. Even though you two texted and facetimed consistently over the three days, you missed him.

Nico’s car wasn’t in the lot when you got home which meant that he was still at practice. It didn’t bother you however, that gave you time to unpack and shower before he came home. Then you could spend the rest of the day with your favorite person.

You had anticipated the house being a mess when you got home from your trip. His clothes were strewn all over the floor leading to the bedroom. For all of Nico's wonderful traits, organization wasn’t one of them. Your boyfriend was sort of a slob and you happily lived with it. Loving someone completely means loving their flaws as well.

You hadn’t anticipated what would be waiting for you in your shared bedroom. The blackout curtains made it so dark that it was practically a dungeon. As you dropped your suitcase down just inside the bedroom door, your other hand slid over the wall looking for the light switch. Once the lights flicked on, the two bodies tangled in the sheets on the bed stirred.

Your heart sank somewhere below your navel as you watched Nico untangle himself from the naked girl that was laying beside him. Tears lined your eyes as they both scrambled to cover themselves with sheets.

“Baby…” Nico got out of bed, wrapping a sheet around his waist. A sheet that belonged to the set his sister had given you both for christmas.

“Don’t.” You warned as you started backing away from him. Your heart was refusing to believe what your eyes were seeing. “Don’t call me that.” A sob escaped your mouth and you quickly brought your hand up to stop anymore from escaping.

You had to get out of the room. You refused to break down in front of your cheating boyfriend and the random girl in your bed holding a blanket to her chest staring at you with big green eyes. Without having any sort of plan, you picked up your suitcase again and headed for the door.

“Y/n, wait!” Nico stumbled after you, cursing in German. “It was a mistake! I love you please, I was drunk! I-”

You whirled on him just before you reached the front door. “I called you last night Nico! We talked on the phone!” Nico was the love of your life. He was the man you were going to marry and start a family with. You trusted him. Then you left for three days and he found someone else to fill your bed with.

Standing before you, holding the sheets tightly in a fist at his waist, he started to cry. You could tell he had been out drinking the night before. Even from a distance you could smell whiskey and cheap perfume. His eyes were bloodshot but you weren’t sure if that was from his previous nights activities or the tears that were freely rolling down his cheeks now.

“I love you.” He choked out. “I’m sorry.”

He tried to reach for you but you pushed him away, breaking your own heart even more in the process. “If you loved me…” Your voice sounded stronger than you felt as you looked into his brown eyes. “You wouldn’t have brought another girl home and slept with her.”

He flinched like he’d been slapped but thought twice before reaching for you again. “Nothing happened, y/n. I just wanted to cud-”

“You’re naked.” You spit the word out as you tried to rationalize that the man in front of you as your loving boyfriend that you would’ve done anything for. “Goodbye, Nico.”

Do you love her?

When you're twisting up all her sheets, do you suffer?

Do I sit there and watch you sleep?

If you love her

Was I just an idea you liked?

A convenient use of type

With obedient blue eyes

“What a piece of shit.” Y/f/n said an hour later when you arrived at her apartment in Brooklyn. As soon as you got back in your car you called her crying. As a number one supporter of you and Nico she was surprised by what you were saying but agreed to let you crash on her couch anyway.

“In my bed?” Your lip wobbled as you sat down and pulled a pillow to your chest. “Why did he have to ruin everything?” Your tears came freely now as you let yourself fall apart in front of your friend. “I loved him so much.”

“I know you did.” Your friend held you tightly, smoothing down your hair. “He was either hoping you wouldn’t find out or you’d forgive him quickly if you did.”

As you sat there crying to your friend, your phone started blowing up from texts from Nico. He asked where you were, if you’d come back and talk it out with him, if you’d just listen to him for a minute. He even asked you if you still loved him.

Your friend eventually had to go to work. Leaving you alone in the house with your thoughts and your phone that you had turned on do not disturb. That’s when the questions started.

Did he know her? Or was she someone random he really met out at a bar? Had they been seeing each other behind your back? Had he cheated on you before? Did he love you? Or were you just someone to fill his time? Did he love her? Was he thinking of you right now? Was he happy you were gone?

Was there something you did that made him cheat? You had gained a little wait since your relationship began. Was he not happy with your body? Was he even attracted to you anymore?

The questions began to eat away at you. You knew reaching out to him was a bad idea so soon after everything happened but you needed answers. Needed closure.

All the hows and the whens and whys

I thought it would be us for life

Was I wrong and is she so right?

Is her body better than mine?

All the clothes and the warning signs?

How's it feel to have made me cry?

Will you tell me just one more lie?

Is her body better than mine?

He picked up on the second ring.

“Y/n?” His voice was hopeful but you could tell he had been crying. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was-”

“Stop.” It had only been about six hours since you caught him cheating on you and your voice was raw from crying so hard. He could hear how choked up you still were over the phone. “I don’t want to hear your excuses Nico. I want you to answer my questions.”

“Whatever you want to know, Schatzi.” Your heart clenched at the term of endearment he so often used for you.

The question slipped out before you could stop it. “Did you call her that too?”

A sigh on his end aggravates you. He’s not the one that's allowed to be upset right now. “Y/n…”

“You did, didn't you?” Anger makes your cheeks flush as your stomach ties itself in a knot. “What’s her name?”

“I met her at the bar when I was drunk. I don’t remember!” He says quickly. “I made a mistake and I feel horrible. I love you so much, y/n. It’s you and me.”

The words sound good and you find yourself wanting to believe them. “If you were lonely, why didn't you call me? Why did you take a stranger home to our bed?”

“You were with your friends in another city and I was drunk. I-”

“This has happened before.” You cut him off, not even phrasing it as a question. “When you're on roadies.”

“I love you.” His voice is soft like he’s started to cry again. “Please y/n…”

“Yes or no, Nico.” You're clutching your phone so tightly you’re surprised it hasn’t snapped in half yet. You need him to answer you, so you know how much has been a lie. “You’ve slept with other women while we were together.”

“Yes.” The last piece of your heart shatters as all of the air escapes your lungs. You double over, letting the tears stream down your face as you gasp for breath. “I’m so sorry. I just get lonely without you. They meant nothing! You are the one I love.”

You slowly sink to the floor from your spot on the couch. The tears are coming so fast now you can't help but sob into the phone. Your thoughts are a jumbled mess in your head as you think back on your relationship with nico. Was everything a lie?

“Please, Schatzi. I hate hearing you cry.” He whispers into the phone. “We can fix this. I’ll beg for your forgiveness every day.”

“I wanted to marry you.” You manage to get out. “Be your wife.”

“I want that too, baby.” His voice becomes more confident, thinking he’s winning you back. “Tell me where you are and I'll come get you.”

That’s when you remember his car wasn’t in the lot this morning. She had driven them to your home. “You ruined everything!” You sob.

“I know.” He sighs. “I know I did. I’m so stupid.”

“Tell me one more thing.” You stare at the ceiling, wishing it would collapse on top of you. You don’t wait for him to respond before asking your next question. ‘Was her body better than mine?”