#i hate it i hate everything about it i wanna rip my skin off when im around these people | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

4unnyr0se · 1 year ago

Note

Hear me out…asking Kenma and Akaashi to eat it from the back..

❥ eat it from the back | kenma kozume & keiji akaashi

warnings: timeskip! kenma and akaashi, fem! reader, eating pussy from the back (obvs), kenma is a tease and akaashi is a gentleman, fingering, spanking (kind of), mentions of hickeys, bokuto mentioned

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 2.1k

a/n: okay i literally hate this with every fiber of my being but i hope u like it nonnie xx

Kenma Kozume

“Hey babe?” you poked your head into your bedroom shared by your boyfriend, the neon red and white lights reflecting off his hazelnut waves. The atmosphere was cozy and quaint, accompanied by the faintest sound of video game characters making attack noises at each other. “I-I have a question if you aren’t busy.” your manicured nails anxiously rubbed against the doorframe, a worrying feeling coursing through your pulsating veins.

Kenma turned around, placing his cat-ear headphones around his neck. You had gotten them as a joke last Christmas, but he grew attached to them quickly. Your boyfriend was akin to that of a cat, after all. “Yeah, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, his voice laced with a mild concern. You were usually so open with him, never afraid to speak your mind. Why did you seem anxious? Were you hurt?

“O-oh, everything is fine. It’s just…I wanted to try something different, if that’s okay.” you smiled in a feeble attempt to assure him, closing the door behind you. Kenma raised an eyebrow and exited his expensive gaming chair, electing to sit on the king-sized bed on the other side of the room. He patted the blanketed spot next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder once you were snuggled deep into his side. “What did you wanna try, hm? It’s okay, I won’t judge you.”

You blushed and bit down on your lip, not daring to look into Kenma’s gorgeous golden eyes. Since you started dating, your boyfriend has always accommodated your needs, ensuring you feel safe and secure. Surely he would not refuse you now? “Uh, my friend sent me a video on Twitter and…and it was of a girl getting head from behind. I-if you know what I mean.”

A smirk decorated Kenma’s lips as he pulled you impossibly closer to his chest, the thick fabric of his company hoodie softly grazing your blushing cheek. “Oh, was that it? That’s nothing, baby. You know I can’t say no to your pretty face when you ask for something so simple.” he purred, grasping your chin with his hand. He pulled you out of his hoodie to look into his eyes, molten with a newfound desire and longing. The padding of his thumb pulled on your bottom lip, admiring how pretty you looked when you were so desperate for him. “Can you take those pants off and get on all fours for me, pretty girl?”

You nodded quickly, practically ripping off your pants along with your panties, tossing them in some random corner of the room to be forgotten about. You smushed your flushing face against the silky sheets of the massive bed, your back arching so perfectly for him. All on display, all for Kenma. He growled at the sight, kneading the flesh of your ass between his long fingers. “Fucking perfect.” he groaned, playfully cracking his hand against your skin. “Shit, you’re fucking dripping for me. Do you want this that badly, baby?”

“Yes!” you whimpered, your hands finding purchase in the sheets as Kenma bent down, his fingers trailing your dripping folds. “Please, fuck, please just, just do it!”

“Okay, pretty girl, whatever you want,” he whispered, placing a teasing kiss on your inner thigh before his mouth landed on your soaked core. His hot tongue slid up and down your folds, mewl after pathetic mewl escaping your lips and being drowned out by the sheets. His hands gripped onto your thighs to secure your position, leaving tiny, fingerprint-sized bruises. His tongue drew playful circles around your sopping entrance, pushing the tip of his muscle in occasionally so he could relish in your surprised squeal.

Kenma indulged himself in you, but that was no shock at all. He was a very greedy lover, and you adored that about him. You tasted like the nectar of the gods on his skilled tongue, his name falling from your plump lips in a broken prayer as your stomach sank further into the mattress, slowly coming undone by his expert oral ministrations. “Shit, you’re fucking shaking. You must’ve wanted this, huh, baby?

His lewd words sent vibrations throughout your body, causing your clit to so painfully throb. “P-please,” you begged, reaching behind you to desperately grasp for his hand. “Need you, please.” Your hand found purchase on his wrist, impatiently dragging it to hover above your soaked clit.

He choked back a moan as his fingers began to swirl around your clit, pinching the sensitive bud just to get a beautiful yelp to fall from your lips. The way it was throbbing, the way you were so beautifully dripping all over his chin and mouth; you were close. He could feel it. Kenma could tell when you were about to reach orgasm by the way your walls squeezed his cock, but this time it was different. Your body was shaking and trembling, so you were in for quite a ride.

“Gonna fucking cum, baby? That’s okay, cum on my face. You can do it, can’t you? Be a good fucking girl and drown me, don’t make me ask again.” he demanded, rhythmically plunging his tongue in and out of your entrance. His tongue accidentally-on-purpose hit the most sensitive spot inside your core, causing you to topple over the edge and into complete and utter bliss. You release coated half of his lower face, making the mess Kenma never tired of seeing. Fuck, you looked so perfect like this. Bent over and all spent for him, profanities escaping your mouth as you rode your high so gracefully.

Reluctantly, Kenma pulled himself away from your drenched lower half, wiping your release from his lips. As you turned around to face him, he smacked your ass. “Sorry baby,” he corrected, standing up to slide off his sweatpants and boxers. His cock leaked with precum, prodding at your entrance. “Did you really think we were done? That’s so cute.”

Keiji Akaashi

Akaashi has been your most trusted friend ever since high school. You were Fukurodani’s manager and went to the same university as him, often spending time with each other for whatever reason you two wanted, be it studying or simply crying over your shitty boyfriend cheating on you. He was always there for you, and you were always there for him. You knew everything about each other, everything, including your deepest, most dark desires.

It began when you discovered (by pure accident) that you had apartments in the same building, one floor apart. It was a shock at first, albeit a hilarious one. Akaashi joked about how you could never get rid of him, like how you and Bokuto were attached at his hip in high school. Eventually, like in college, you spent every free moment with each other. He could be editing a manga panel on his laptop, and you gingerly made him tea, patting his head. His green eyes would always trail to the hem of your top, the hint of exposed cleavage driving him secretly wild. Or how you would wear your sleep shorts constantly because you worked from home, the sight of your exposed thighs making him instantly hard in his slacks.

One day, the tension between the two of you snapped. Akaashi had you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands squeezing your waist. His lips molded so perfectly against your own, groaning into your mouth as your teeth teasingly bit onto his bottom lip. That night was filled with passion and longing, a longing that started to brew since the day you decided to become a Fukurodani manager. Since then, your neck has never been free from his hickeys or marks, and Akaashi’s wrists always have one of your bracelets dangling from the bone.

You never kept anything from each other; why would you? You had known each other for so long that you and he were practically in sync—what he did, you did, etc. So when your friend sent you a Twitter link to a video of a girl trembling as she got eaten out from behind, you just had to show him.

“Keiji, look at this.” you tapped him on the shoulder, momentarily distracting him from editing a manga panel. “My friend sent me this. It’s pretty hot, right?” The video was muted, but the woman’s pleasure was so undeniable. Three fingers pumped in and out of her sobbing pussy while her partner secured her position with his large hands, his tongue ravishing her.

“Yeah, it is really hot,” Akaashi looked at you with a flicker of desire in his eyes, kissing your fingers gently. “Would you like to try that, sweetheart?” He rose from his chair, slightly towering above you. He was so gentle at times you had forgotten that he used to play volleyball. Akaashi was pretty damn tall. You nodded and leaned to kiss him, resting your arms on his broad shoulders. He smiled into the kiss, breaking it for only a moment so he could drag you into the living room. Shrugging off his cardigan and removing his glasses, he gestured to the leather couch. “Can you get into the position like the girl in the video, sweetheart? Face down, ass up, come on.”

You happily obliged, stripping yourself of your shorts and panties instantly. You proudly displayed yourself for him, wiggling your ass playfully with a teasing grin plastered across your beautiful face. “Like this Keiji, yeah? Like when we do doggy style.”

“Exactly like when we do doggystyle, sweetheart.” Akaashi groaned, massaging your ass tenderly. You were already dripping for him, fuck. Were you thinking about this for longer than he thought? “You always look so fucking pretty for me.” his long and calloused fingers prodded at your throbbing entrance, eliciting an impatient moan from your lips. “Don’t tease, baby! Wan’ you so bad, c’mon!”

He pushed his index and middle finger inside your sobbing core, curling them inside instantly. Your walls squeezed about him perfectly, your manicured nails clawing at the pillow supporting your head. “T-tongue! Wan’ your tongue, Keiji! Please…” you whimpered, turning your head to look at him with a flustered and needy expression.

“I know, pretty girl,” he cooed, quickening his ministrations in your fluttering cunt. “Just doing what the guy in the video did, right? You’ll get my tongue soon enough,” he assured you, squeezing the backs of your thighs lovingly. That put you at ease for a moment until his skilled tongue licked a fat stripe up your glistening folds, earning the most delightful squeal from your throat.

“Fuck.” Akaashi slowly dragged his tongue up and down your wanton heat, groaning as your slick covered his tongue and mouth. You always tasted divine, like something not of this world. Your thighs already began to shake like the girl in the video, his fingers gently pistoning in and out of you being the perfect finishing touch. “So fucking pretty like this,” he whispered against you, fingers pulling out of your heat to rub against the clit. “I’ve never seen you this needy. Have you always wanted to try this? Hm?”

You frantically nodded and pressed yourself against his face, wanting more of his wet muscle against your core. “J-just make me cum, dammit! You never tease me like this.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Akaashi buried himself in your cunt once more, tracing delicate circles on your most sensitive part. At the same time, his index finger rubbed your clit too well, the slick from inside your pussy adding a new kind of lubrication. Akaashi chuckled in satisfaction as he felt your orgasm approach, his tongue prodding at your entrance. He plunged the wet muscle inside, slurping noises filling the room of your otherwise silent living area. The tip expertly dipped in and out, running along each of your folds to avoid neglecting either. “Want you to cum on my tongue, sweetheart,” he demanded, rubbing on your clit at a sickeningly fast pace. “Can you do that for me now? Wanna cum on my tongue?”

Like you were something he had programmed, you became unraveled all over his tongue, your slick release covering his mouth. “S-shit! Keiji, fuck! Oh my fucking god, don’t stop! Holy shit, fuck, fuck!”

Akaashi smiled as he pulled away from your heat, giving your inner thighs gentle kisses. “You did so well, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” He grabbed your hips and flipped you around, pressing his lips against yours in a tender embrace. His tongue flicked against your lips, spreading some of your release. “You taste amazing, can you see?”

You nodded and collapsed onto his chest, rubbing your head against the wool fabric of his sweater. “Gonna take a nap on you, is that okay?”

Akaashi chuckled to himself and kissed the top of your sweaty head, rubbing his hands down your back. “Of course, baby, get as much rest as you need. You did so well for me.”

have a request? my asks are open <3

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu smut #akaashi x reader #akaashi smut #time skip akaashi #time skip kenma #kenma smut #kenma x reader #kenma kozume #akaashi keiji

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beautifulpaprika · 11 months ago

Text

A Beast and a Bracelet (m)

pairing: fem!reader x beast!jk

warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, in the forest!

summary: You tried saving someone ... again. However, this group is large and bloodthirsty, and trying to lose them in a forest isn't working. Yet, when you find a cave, it seems to be your saving grace. Not because of what's in it, but who's in it.

word count: 8.7k

Branch after branch hits me in the face- my hair getting caught in the branches more than once as I run from the group of men after me.

“Stay out of the business of men, Y/N,” my father always told me. Of course, when I spotted the ready-to-beat-a-man in front of his children, I couldn’t sit back and chug a pint. I had nothing better to do. I didn’t think through the part where there were three of them and one of me.

The plan was running into the forest where the monster stories came from- stories of missing people and blood trails - in hopes they would be too afraid, but by the footfalls following close behind, I can safely determine they are not as fearful as I am of the forest.

I have no navigation in the pitch black and wood. My lungs feel ready to give up on me, and the noises I hear on my left sound a lot like something ready to pounce on me. But I keep running.

“Come on, brave one! You wanna jump in to our business? We can do this right now!” One of the men calls from behind me. I’m astounded they have the air to be able to catch up and yell at the same time.

I attempt a look behind me, my eyes glancing at a small light catching up. Panic rises in me and boils over, tears welling in my eyes, making finding safety even more difficult.

There’s a dark mass ahead- a cave surrounded by weeds and vines. Pictures of monsters with sharp teeth and blood dribbling down their chin appear in my mind.

“Get her!” one man calls out. They’re on my tail and I have to make a decision.

One foot in front of the other until it’s pitch black in the cave. My footsteps echo off of the cave wall and I almost slip in the mud. The sound of splashing water urges me to turn back. Something is in here, and it’s not a bunny.

I stick close to the wall, unmoving.

Unfortunately for me, a light shines in the cave.

“There you are,” the one in front says. They all have a hungry look in their eyes that tells me everything I need to know about their intentions.

My eyes sting from the tears welling. I should’ve listened to my father. I should’ve kept to myself.

The frontman grabs my arm, but I scream when his touch is gone as soon as it’s there.

Growling mixing with agonizing screams draws my attention. The light is suddenly gone -it’s pitch black and I hear the nervous panting of the other two men.

The screaming stops and my breath catches, not wanting the creature to hear me. It’s not a second longer when the screams start up and the crunching of bones and ripping and tearing of skin join it.

The gurgle from the second man doesn’t stop before the third one follows. The screams and noises last for a few moments longer. When it stops, I close my eyes. I’m preparing for the death that is to come, asking any forces out there to grant a quick death and for my father to never have to find me.

A huff in front of my face pushes my hair from my face.

I hate the pathetic whimper I give to the creature.

Its breathing is heavy and similar to that of a dog.

“I’m sorry I intruded,” I whine, “I didn’t know where else to go,” I whisper. It feels useless to ask for mercy from a creature that most likely can’t understand me.

However, it doesn’t seem as impossible as I thought when the huffing retreats from me. The hot air is gone, and I’m out of breath when I hear a splashing again- just like the one I heard when I came in.

I squint my eyes, trying to see rather than hear.

There’s a new panting sound coupled with coughing and spitting, but it sounds human. Nothing like the creature growling deep while it tore men to pieces.

Feet slap the wet floor, and I continue to hold my breath, not wanting to make any sudden movements.

“I know you’re there,” a voice calls. It doesn’t sound menacing or annoyed- more matter-of-fact than anything. Rustling sounds move from my right side to across from me.

A light appears, causing me to cover my eyes with my arm to adjust to the sudden brightness.

“A ‘thank you’ would have been nice,” the same voice is right in front of me now. I slowly lower my arm, not wanting to be bombarded by light again.

My eyes glide up to be met with a man’s curious gaze. The light shows off his raised eyebrows and glistening chest. His dark hair sticks to the sides of his face. He must have been the one who was making all the water sounds. I come back down, looking past his legs to the three bodies behind him. I gasp at their state. Torn limbs, popping eyes, frozen faces of shock.

“Oh, that,” he grimaces. “That is quite the mess I’ll have to clean,” he mumbles.

“Who are you?” I look back at him. “Did you do that? How-“

”None of these words sound like appreciation,” he crouches down, his head tilting. “Should I have let them have their way with you?” He asks. I look past him again, a rage boiling inside men from the thought of those torn-up hands being on me instead. I shake my head.

“I’m grateful,” my voice is low.

“Good enough for now,” he gets up again, moving back to the space across from me. “You can go,” he announces and I’m caught off guard by it.

That’s it?

He sets the light down as I stare in amazement. He’s already heaving one body over his shoulder without a struggle.

I slap myself for gawking at his back muscles and the marred skin as he takes one body and starts to carry it out.

The half-naked man stops in his tracks and slowly turns to me.

“You can leave at any time, bunny.” I have to stop myself from flinching at the pet name.

My mind becomes dizzy at the choices of staying or going. This man is new, a mystery, and I can’t help but be curious. He’s the one who saved me and I’m supposed to walk out as if nothing happened?

“I’d like to help,” before he can reject my offer, I’m picking up a ripped-off arm and a toe tossed away. Nausea rises in my body up to my throat, but I hold it back before I make even more of a mess.

I’m ready to follow the man out, but his body is fully turned to me now, the body still on his shoulder. I try avoiding his stare by walking past him, but he blocks me.

His eyes scan me from top to bottom. I shiver under his wandering eyes.

“What are you doing?”

”It’s the least I could do for intruding your. . . space,” I refer to the cave. “And it’s obvious you saved me from imminent death . . . And worse,” I gulp, and his eyes follow the movement in my throat.

I wait for him to say anything or reject my offer, but he doesn’t. He turns, the dead expression of the man on his shoulders flinging towards me. I gag at the wounds down his face.

“If you’re going to do that the whole way, I suggest you go home instead,” he tells me.

I shake my head, despite the fact that he can’t see me.

We trek out into the forest, carrying our bodies (and body parts). The lamp attached to his pants lights the way, but I can’t help looking at the way it drags his pants down his hips a tad. His skin is dry now and I notice the scars down his back more easily.

“You’ll need to clean up afterward,” he says before throwing the body in an empty spot between some trees. “Going home from this forest will have questions thrown at you enough, but coming back with blood? You won’t survive,” he explains.

I throw the hand and toe on the spot.

“You sound like you speak from experience,” it’s as if I have a death wish making such a suggestion, but he laughs it off. Maybe I’m not incorrect. After all, there’s a reason he lives in the cave.

He doesn’t say another word but turns to return to the cave.

“How long have you been out here?” I try to break the silence. He gives me a look. “You have a made bed and some supplies in that cave of yours, your hair is-” he gives me another look and I stop talking. The hair must be a sensitive topic.

“It's been a few years. . .”

The shock in my body slows my walking down. Years?

“Did you run away from home?”

“Something like that,” he shrugs.

I don't ask any more questions for fear of seeming more intrusive than I already am.

“Where is your pond of water?” I ask, trying to fling some of the blood on my fingers.

He freezes at the question.

“You have one. I heard it,” I walk further into the darkness, hoping to find the small body of water.

I notice something glistening and take a step towards it.

But then my feet lose their balance and my back is against the wall. Air leaves my lungs when the man’s face crowds mine, his hands caging me on both sides.

“Don’t. Touch. That. Water,” he’s panting and I can only see the left side of his face. The anger and anxiety cinching every feature.

I notice the splotch of blood sitting on his eyebrow and lick my finger to rub it off.

He flinches when my finger touches him, but his eyebrow doesn’t relax.

“I won’t touch it,” I promise. “I apologize,” I plea that he accepts the apology- my life being at risk and whatnot.

“You don’t owe me anything. Go home,” he breaks away from me turning to gather the next body.

“How do I know they won’t come for you? That you’ll be okay?” He freezes on the spot again. “I want to help!” I confess. I don’t want to prove my father right. Not about not being able to defend myself and not about being useless to this world.

He doesn't say a word but looks back at the body left torn on the ground. It's enough to answer my question.

“I think I'll be alright,” he says. He makes his way out of the cave and I follow after him.

“There are more guys then where that came from, I can promise you that! They’ll come looking,” I try. I try to convince him tha t we need each other. My hope is that he says yes and lets me figure out the mystery that he is.

“I handled three and I’ll handle more,” he grunts as he throws the body into the spot.

“How do you know people won’t find this?” I gesture to the pile of limbs.

“It’s still night. The monsters will take care of it. Monsters worse than me,” he says with a low voice, staring directly at me. The words do as he intended. With a shiver running down my spine, I’m officially afraid.

“I’ll go home,” I tell him, turning away ready to follow the tracks home.

“You do that,” he makes his way back to the cave.

“I‘ll be back tomorrow!” I call.

“No, you won’t!” He calls back before disappearing into the dark.

***

I keep my promise to return. This time I bring bread and treats with me, hoping something sweet is enough to tame the beast. I’m not sure what kind of beast he really is, but what does it matter if he doesn’t hurt me?

It’s clear I haven’t learned my lesson last night by getting into “men’s business”. This man is only half man, so it counts. I suppose.

A leaf crunches behind me, and I swivel to confront whoever’s following me, but Im only met with the sight of a misty forest wind moving through grass and dirt.

“Y-yeah! You better not fuck with me!” I cringe at my voice wavering on the swear word.

“You really spooked them away, bunny,” a deep chuckle sounds behind me.

I swirl to look at the scarred man, a smirk spreading across his face. He approaches me casually, like any man on the street would- except he has no shirt, and his hair is still tousled, and his pants are ripped in different areas.

“Your anxiety is palpable,” he says, tilting his head at me, while tapping a finger top my chin.

“I’m not scared of anything,” I lie.

“I know your idea here is to be brave, but you can’t be brave if you have nothing to fear,” his hand taps the sack hanging in my hand. “What’s this?” he asks.

I hold the bag to him, the smell of fresh bread and cake wafting around us.

“For you,” I push it towards him as his eyebrow lifts. “I don’t have any money, but my father and I can bake pretty well,” I shove it towards him again, but he continue s to stare at me. “Yes. It’s a bribe, but I’d like to show you that this team,” I point to him and myself, “can work out pretty well.”

“And why do you want to be a team?” he asks, his arms crossing over his chest, his biceps protruding. I gulp at them, then catch myself looking back at the man. The smirk tells me he noticed me checking him out.

“I’d like to do more in town, but with the risk of being killed, I can’t do it as much as I’d like. I want your help. For protection,” I propose. I realize the more I talk, the more my body caves in. I quickly adjust to lift my chin and he chuckles at me.

His eyes narrow, then surprise. I try to process the shock on his face.

“You-” his arms uncross and I wait for his words.

“What?” I ask. His eyes cut deep into mine and I suddenly feel awkward in my spot.

He relaxes again, back to his normal composure. “You’ve got a deal,” he announces. Before I can ask him what that was, he’s already turning away and heading in the opposite direction. I try to make out some of the shapes in his back.

I quickly avert my eyes when he looks back at me and start to follow him.

“I brought some other things as well,” I show the bag in my other hand. “Another peace offering, but also . . . basic hygiene,” I shake the bag in excitement. The girls in town never let me braid their hair, but it’s alright. There’s someone who needs my services more anyway.

He doesn’t say much, only continues to walk and even cleans sticks and rocks from the ground.

“It’s a bit useless to clean the forest isn’t it?” I ask.

“It’s meant to be a path, so that you can easily find your way back and forth,” his words catch me off guard. It’s a small gesture, but it’s nice to know he’s keeping me in mind when he does.

I gawk at him for a few moments longer until the noise of running water breaks me out of the trance. We come up on a small creek dug into the ground. This is no cave.

“I didn’t see this last night,” I whisper.

“We didn’t come here last night,” he points out. I give him a questioning look, for him to answer in a shrug, “You said you have a few things for hygiene and a couple of treats - let’s have a picnic, bunny,” I shake my head at the nickname.

“Why do you call me that?”

“I’m big. You're small. I thought that was obvious,” he raises a branch for me and I pass through.

“It wasn’t that obvi-”

“Where did you say you came from?” he suddenly asks from behind me.

“I come from the town just outside of here,” I tell him, turning to face him. He hums in answer. “Have you ever been there? It’s right outside of this forest,” his face scrunches, contemplating.

“I’m from the cave, that’s it. Now that we’ve gotten introductions out of the way-” he pulls the torn-up pants down his legs and I gasp at the muscles on him. He could crush a man’s head with those thighs. “Let’s get to that wash,” he says, a hint of excitement touching his tone.

He steps down, slowly, into the water.

I put a fingertip in the water. I hiss at the cold, but he seems entirely unphased. He seems to enjoy it if anything.

I admire the way he’s able to bask in the cold water.

“Alright, what’s next, bunny? Where’s the soap at?” he calls.

“How do you know about soap?” I had assumed he never joined society. I gather my bag, bringing out soap, sponge, a hairbrush, and a pair of nail clippers. I grab the hairbrush first, waving him over.

“I haven’t always been out here,” he explains, slowly making his way towards me. His back faces me, and despite him being taller than me, I still can’t reach him at a comfortable position.

“Can you just . . . come a little closer?” I reach again, only able to reach so far without falling into the water.

He leans backwards, not able to step back without slipping on the tilted creek floor. I reach for his hair, and I’m able to brush it, but the angle is uncomfortable. I try to brush the strands lower, by his neck, but my arms quickly tire.

“Hold on- Just-” I say, trying to fix my posture.

His head turns to give me a side-eye, and I watch him roll his eyes.

“I know something that might help,” he gestures to me to lean over just a bit more. I try my best to have my body hover over the water without falling in.

The man leans over to grab me underneath my arms - my scream muffled by the water rushing into my mouth. My feet are able to reach the ground and thrust me to the surface.

My ears fill with the sound of his laughter once they clear out. I turn to him slowly, the cold water causing my eyes to twitch and my body to shiver . . . Or is that the anger?

“What is wrong with you!” I swear the birds get spooked at my yelling. “I am trying to help.”

“You're trying to butter me up. I already said I would do what you asked, there’s no need to cater to me any more,” his arms reach up to brush his hair back, but his fingers catch easily in the knots. “I brush with my fingers,” he says, proudly.

Despite my anger, I draw closer to him, his breathing slowing as he looks down at me.

“While brushing with fingers could work . . .” I start. I grab his arm and pull him to where his back is facing me again. I try not to stare at the obvious scars in different sizes and shapes running down his back. “It’s not going to do all the work. Trust me, the brush will make you feel lighter.” The weight of my clothing drags me down a smidge but I ignore it. I start at the bottom of his long, dark strands. I expect to hear a ‘hiss’ or feel a flinch on some of the knots, but he doesn’t. He actually seems relaxed. His head leans back and a hum occasionally sounds from him.

I pour more water on his head, following the line down his spine until it meets the water at his waist. I admire hsi figure, dragging a finger down the same path as the water, sometimes detouring to some of the scars.

I kick myself out of the trance, and when I look back up to focus on the hair again, his head is already slightly turned to look at me.

“Um, I’m sorry. I got curious,” I admit.

“About?”

“What your skin would feel like. I don’t think I’ve seen so many scars,” I say. His eyebrows pinch. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing. It’s new. And intriguing. And you should tell me about them,” I add a smile, hoping it’s enough to convince him.

“You ask for a lot. I’ve saved your life, isn’t that enough from me? If anything I should be asking you for more,” his arms cross. I snort at how pouty it makes him look.

“Well, I’m brushing your hair aren’t I? You know how many other men’s hair I’ve brushed?”

He turns in genuine interest.

“No one. No other man’s hair! And!” I reach for the bag sitting on the edge of the creek, ready to fall in. I dig through the bag, revealing another gift - a bar of lavender soap. “How many people have I given soap to? Zero,” I push it towards him, the bar leaving white residue on my fingers.

He reluctantly takes it, eyeing it, then me, then it.

“I’m not sure this is the compliment you-”

“Ungratefulness is not very becoming of you,” I interrupt.

His eyes peer up at me from under his eyelashes. “I’m still a bit sore, you know, from saving your life,” he says. I nod in understanding. “I’ll need help using this,” he hands me the bar.

I freeze my hands from playing with the water. I scan his face for any sign of joking, but he continues to hold it to me.

I take it, and he steps closer immediately, his body towering over mine. My attempt at not appearing nervous doesn’t work.

“I’ll do it if you can answer one question,” I tell him. He rolls his eyes but agrees. “Why is the water in the cave off-limits but the creek isn’t?” He’s initially annoyed by the question, but I watch him relax.

“It changes me. It’s the reason I was able to become the monster that helped you,” he flinches when I start to lather him in soap. Creek water isn’t the cleanest, but it’s all I have to make the soap softer. “The reason I couldn’t let you go in it is because it’s not something you easily come out of,”he explains. My hand trails over his abdomen and up his sides, he inhales sharply, but recovers quickly.

“What exactly do you turn into?”

“Half human, half dog, half beast. There are too many ways to describe it. It doesn’t help that at first you aren’t aware that you’re something else. It takes a couple of tries to not lose your mind. Some have succumbed to the madness, and others take it, go into town, cause chaos, and get themselves killed.” His eyes are distant as he talks. There’s something that tells me he is talking from experience. “It doesn’t help that when I take that form of the beast, it drains my energy. My human energy isn’t meant for a big body with that strength. It’s draining.”

“Are you the only one now, besides me, who knows about it?” I reach his neck, noticing a big difference in cleanliness.

He nods in answer.

“You haven’t lost your mind, though. Why are you different?” he shrugs at my question.

“I had a good mentor, at first,” his eyes turn down, “I also had a lot of motivation, I guess,” he holds his arms forward for me to wash.

“What was your motivation?”

He waits - the crickets nearby and the trees still.

“You’ve asked much more than one question now. The focus should be on getting this dirt off of me,” he wades over to the edge. “You should get my legs too,” he lifts one onto the wall and I screw my eyes shut, squealing- the sound of his laughter a massage to my brain.

***

The next day it’s raining. I cover myself with the sack that I brought for Jungkook (a name I learned while I was soaping his legs - truly a heartwarming moment.) This time it has a few shirts I stole from my father.

Jungkook told me I shouldn’t come back again at the risk of someone catching onto the fact that I was going into the forest too often. Judging by the trees surrounding me, I didn’t listen. I’ve checked my surroundings a million times before coming in.

A noise behind me makes me jump, but I start humming to soothe the nerves. I brought Jungkook a small cupcake with a bunny iced on the top. It’s a bit wet now from the rain, but I’m almost certain he’ll still like it.

After our day at the creek yesterday, I feel like he knows me better than anyone. The only thing I haven’t figured out is why he decides to stay out here instead of joining the rest of society. Well, when I truly think about it, I guess I can understand why he wouldn’t want to.

I release a breath when I arrive at the cave, grateful that I didn’t forget where it is.

“Jungkook?” I call as I walk in. My lantern is able to light up the slick walls. There’s running and shuffling until I approach him. He’s sitting criss-cross on the ground on a sheet, wide-eyed and open mouthed. “Jungkook? What are you doing?” I slowly approach him.

“Nothing. Sitting here,” he says it too quickly to believe him.

“What do you have behind you?”

“What’s that in your hand?” he nods to the cupcake I’m holding- the picture of the bunny looks a bit sad now. I don’t miss the way he decided to change the subject, but I can’t be bothered to bring it back up. He’ll have to move eventually.

“It was a cupcake,” I step closer and sit in front of him, he tenses a bit, “but the rain kind of . . .” I show it to him. He looks at it and I think I see a smile spreading across his face. I have to check twice that it’s not a teasing smile, but what I thought was true. He’s looking at it fondly.

He reaches for it, releasing whatever’s behind him.

“Thanks, Bunny,” he says. He doesn’t eat it but sets it beside him instead.

“Are you going to tell me what’s behind you now?” I ask. He’s right back to being tense. His mouth opens and closes, resembling a fish, and before he can say anything else, a voice yells out. We freeze and look out the mouth of the cave.

“Where the fuck did she go?” a man yells out again. Even with the rain, I can hear him clearly, meaning he’s too close. “Keep going! That bitch definitely had something to do with their disappearance!” he announces.

They know. They must be friends of those men’s whose bodies we dumped - and they followed me here.

Shit. How many times do I have to tell myself that I should have listened?

“Jungkook . . .” I whisper, but he’s already standing when I turn.

“Stay here. I’ll take care of it,” he demands. The gentle Jungkook who accepted my soggy cupcake is gone - replaced with a Jungkook who looks ready to drown someone in the very creek water we swam in.

“I’ll come with you,” I get ready to stand.

“Y/N . . . I appreciate it, but please don’t. It was always me who was supposed to take care of it. I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here,” with that, he jumps in the water. Meanwhile, I’m still caught up in how he knew my name. Jungkook may have fessed up his own, but I never did the same.

His beast rushes out of the water and I have no time to take a glance at him. His gray skin is the only thing I spot paired with a panting noise as he runs out.

Waiting in the cave for a mere three seconds is already torture. The waiting is agony especially when I can’t hear anything and not knowing how many followed me into the forest.

I occupy myself by looking around the cave, not that there’s much to look at. I spot the thing Jungkook was holding behind his back. It looks like a bracelet but made with flowers and grass. I smile at it. Jungkook hiding his soft side makes the bracelet all the more special.

A roar yanks my attention away. Yelling and screams rise above the rain from multiple people- more than three. I can’t just sit here. I can’t.

The rain drops are cool against my skin and I pick up a long stick as I run in the direction of the chaos.

My confidence in being able to help is not high, but my motivation is. There’s a pained whimper this time from Jungkook. My feet move faster now. It doesn’t matter if they can hear me coming to them as long as I’m able to get there- as long as he isn’t alone.

A choked sound comes from below me. One of the men Jungkook dealt with reaches out with the one arm he has left. His mouth forms the words “Help me,” but I look away before he can say anything else.

Leaves crunching and sounds of a struggle lead me to a clearing. Bodies are scattered in every part of the clearing, unmoving. There are a few bodies beyond the trees as well. This was much more than the three men Jungkook dealt with in the cave.

The beast himself sits in the middle. His skin is gray and slimy with hair in very few places. This form is indeed much bigger than the Jungkook I know.

I quickly approach without saying a word and examine his condition. He’s lying on his side, his breathing shallow. There are a few scratches on his sides and a gash down his face. He’s exhausted and I think back to when he said the beast form is not meant for him to stay in for a long time. His body exhausts easily and if he used a majority of it on fighting these men-

Damn it. I should’ve asked what happens when that energy is spent. Of all the times I have been nosy in my life and I couldn’t do it in such a crucial moment.

Jungkook’s beast eye peers up at me and huffs. I ignore the scolding and focus on how I’m going to help him. The pond is too big to be brought to him, so I’m going to have to bring him to it. I don’t let the thought of “How?” linger in my mind too long before I’m picking up his legs and dragging him with as much force as I can bear.

His groan is quiet behind me.

“Don’t speak! Don’t do anything!” I yell. I avoid one or two bodies. I haven’t made it far and my arms and back are aching.

“Use your legs, or you’ll do some damage to your back,” Father’s words echo in my mind. He’s told me so many wise things and yet I can never listen. It’s how I’m in this predicament in the first place. It’s the reason Jungkook is dying.

My throat closes as tears well up in my eyes.

“I’m not letting you die.”

***

Jungkook is practically on the brink of death when I dump him in the pool of water. The lantern lights the red stringing through the water and I cross my fingers that he doesn’t drown.

“Please, please, please,” I whisper, screwing my eyes shut, a tear falling as a result. “You’re my only friend, Jungkook. . .” I whisper. “Don’t leave.”

As soon as the words escape me, a head surfaces above the water. I’m on my knees in an instance reaching for him. He’s still very heavy when I pull him in, but nothing compared to when he was the beast.

“You’re okay!” I wrap my arm around his neck and pull him in. He hugs me back for only a second before I feel his body limp and fall. “Jungkook? Jungkook!” I call for him, but his breathing is weak. I pull him to where his sheet is, laying him gently. His eyes close and he enters sleep. I notice a bit of blood dripping down his face and sides from the battle.

I make sure his breathing is okay then leave him to rush back into town on a mission to take anything that could save him.

***

It’s the second day since Jungkook was attacked and it’s raining again. He’s woken up a few times for water, but nothing else. The bandages on his waist glare at me as I sit on the opposite side of the cave, humming a song, playing with the bracelet he has yet to finish.

“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” his voice pipes up. I rush to him, a cup of water in hand from the creek. “I’d thought at least by now-” I put a finger to his lips- the rasp of his voice anxiety inducing.

“You need to save your energy. We can talk when you’re back to being normal,” I tip the cup into his mouth, and he takes it. When I’m done, he sits up despite my protests.

“I thought you liked the fact I wasn’t normal,” he whispers, his eyes off in the distance. I ignore the words seeing as that’s not my priority. “And I’m not talking about now. I’m talking about back then,” he meets my eyes now, then glides down to the bracelet I’m wearing. I’m ready to question what he means when I look at the bracelet.

It’s like a key now. A key to a memory I put away a long time ago.

***

11 years ago

“Keep crying. ‘S not like there’s anyone who’s gonna help you,” the blonde kid, nicknamed Jester, hits the boy again and I flinch behind the wall. “Where’s your parents?” Kicks him again and gestures for his friend to join in - and he does.

I can’t watch this anymore.

“Stop fucking with me-” before Jester can kick him again, I jump in, putting my body in front of the one who’s on the ground.

“What is wrong with you two!” I yell out.

“Mind your business, Y/N!” he tries to push me but I won’t budge. Finally, my height does something other than be the butt of every joke in town. Father always said I was an early bloomer and that my height could be an advantage. I didn’t see that until now.

“Fuck you!” I spit at him, surprised at my own cursing. If he was angry before, he’s enraged now. His fist reels back, and I see it coming, but the boy behind me rushes him, tackling Jester. His friend looks to me. Before he can make any moves, I rush up to him and swing my leg up to his middle, hitting my target right between the legs.

“Run!” I yell. With one down we should be okay.

The boy gets off of the blonde and runs to me, taking my hand and leading me into the forest. I don't know where he's taking me, but if I saved him that means he won't hurt me, right?

We slow to a cave entrance. He turns to me, but doesn’t say anything.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, noticing the cut under his eye. He nods, still not saying a word. “Those boys are assholes,” I cover my mouth at the bad word. “Sorry, but it’s true,” he laughs at me. I can’t believe he’s laughing at me after I saved his life. Then, I find myself laughing with him and it’s strange.

He gestures for me to follow him deeper in the forest.

We find a spot where he finally kneels on the ground and I follow.

“Do they usually pick on you?” I ask. He nods slowly and moves his sleeve to show scars and fresh cuts on his shoulder. I make the note in my mind that next time I’ll bring something to help heal those.

His hands work and kneed in the grass and grabs a few flowers that are scattered in different places. I see a bug on the trunk of the tree, my eyes trailing up the tree trunk that it travels. Where is it going to go?

A tap on my shoulder takes my attention away. I look down at the boy holding a small bracelet in his hands. He holds it to me, and I take it, trying not to break it. The little flowers spread throughout it tickle my hand.

“For me?” I ask and he nods his head.

“It’s to say ‘Thank You’,” my heart is surprised when I finally hear his voice.

“Hey. You wanna be my friend? I don’t have any,” I say.

His head moves so fast up and down. Finally! I found someone who likes me!

***

“You. . .” I whisper to him, his heavy eyelids covering his eyes staring back at me.

“Me,” he looks at the bracelet sitting in the palm of his hand. I’m grateful he’s distracted while I process the new revelations.

I push up from the ground and head for the exit, quickly stepping out into the rain.

“Y/N? Y/N!” he calls from behind me. I ignore him and try to keep my tears at bay. “Stop!” he yells. I hate that I do as he says, as if I’m his dog. He steps in front of me, and I turn away. “What’s wrong? Did I say something?” He tries to make eye contact with me and when I refuse, he uses a finger on my chin, the touch heating my face.

“You can try to remind me of the good memories, Jungkook, but don’t forget those good times lasted for a week and you left,” I try to tame the way my voice is breaking. “You were my first friend and then you disappeared. I thought I was cursed for months!” a tear rolls down my cheek. He blinks. Once. Twice. “I get it. That was a long time ago and maybe it didn’t matter to you, but it does to me,” he shakes his head.

“Of course it matters, Y/N. You were my only friend and-”

“Then why did you leave me? Why didn’t you say anything? I risked so much going into the woods to find you.” Scenes of 10 year-old me play out in my head - screaming for Jungkook to come back until my throat itched, poisoning and rashes running down my legs.

“It was going to be my first time in the pool,” his voice is low, “I wasn’t ready, but my mother was dying. Your very precious town was sending search parties to hunt us down. She couldn’t protect herself or me anymore, so I had to do it. I didn’t want to scare you,” his hand lowers back to his side and he takes a deep breath. “I was going through weeks of training myself and when my mom died and I got a hold of it, I went to try and find you, but I wasn’t finding you and it was too risky,” he explains.

My heart cracks at the mention of his mother. I know what it’s like to lose a parent, but he only had her.

“You should have told me. . .”

“I wanted to. Trust me, Y/N. I did. But I wanted to figure out everything first before I jumped into it with you. I was also a kid at the time too. I didn’t have someone to guide me. Everyone hated me without being a beast. Could you imagine my fear of what would happen if they found out I am one? Especially with all the rumors and stories going around?” he argues. It’s a solid explanation. This was a long time ago and we were children. “When I saw you again and recognized that it was you, something I wanted more than anything, is for you not to be afraid of me. Your opinion, after a week, was the most important to me.”

Tears start to well up again.

“Just like your opinion is most important to me now,” he whispers, stepping closer. I swallow the lump in my throat. His hair sticks to the sides of his head, some strands covering his eyes that are looking down at me. Goosebumps spread up and down my arms as heat bubbles in my stomach.

“If you’re lying-”

“Don’t even think that,” he takes another step closer. I gasp when his hand wraps around my waist and pulls me to him, our chests touching and my hands resting on his arms. My thoughts are a jumbled mess and all I can ask is how this escalated so quickly. “Don’t go this time. I know I always tell you to leave, but I’m telling you to stay now.”

My eyes blink and I’d like to blame it on the raindrops falling into my eyes, but I’m afraid to admit it’s because of how flustered I am at the stare he’s giving me.

“And where do you get off on telling me what to do?”

“Can I be honest?”

“I’d like it if you were.”

“I think you like it when I tell you what to do.” It’s not the words I was expecting, but I don’t dislike it either. It’s also not false. “Do you want me, Y/N?” he whispers on my lips. “Tell me.”

“Yes,” I say it a bit too quickly.

Just when I think he’s going to plant his lips on mine, he instead asks, “Why?” The question is not hard to answer, but it is one that is difficult to say.

“You’re the only person who makes me feel wanted in return,” I tell him. It’s honest and a much better answer than ‘You’re really hot’. “I don’t want to lose you, Jungkook,” I admit. “So, if you’re going to leave again you might as well-”

His soft lips interrupt me - finally!

A list of things I could be doing right now scrolls through my mind, yet none of them seem as important or as enticing as this is. If I could describe what this kiss is like, I don’t think that I could. No one has kissed me like this in the past. Nothing in the world can compare to the way that he holds me tightly against him, massaging the skin on my waist, while our mouths move in sync and rainwater mixes in with our saliva.

His hands place pressure on hips and I respond by moving backward until I hit a tree. Now that I have back support, his lips push into me harder and I whimper into his mouth. He responds with a moan that runs straight to my core.

We separate, breathing into each other.

“It’s raining,” I say, my clothing completely stuck to me by now.

“It’s not gonna stop me, but tell me if it’s going to stop you,” he brushes a hair away from my face and that’s when I can’t wait anymore. I want him too much to stop now, so I shake my head in answer.

“I don’t want anything else to stop us,” I hook my fingers into his loose pants and bring him closer. The corner of his lips tilt up and his fingers crawl on the side of my neck before pulling me closer to him.

The only thing I can pray for is that there are no more men who have decided to take on Jungkook and are still lurking in the forest, but that seems to be the last thing on his mind when he grinds into me. I moan into his mouth and he swallows it before leaning down to kiss my neck. I arch into him as he gets lower at the same time tickling the skin under my shirt as he lifts it up and over my head.

The rain is cold on me, but it’s worth it when his eyes stay on my perky nipples.

“I-” he gulps. Not so mouthy now.

“You can touch me, if you want,” I hate the way I sound so eager. I thought I would be able to play it cool, similar to the time I first lost my virginity (with a complete douchebag), but Jungkook makes me too nervous to ‘play it cool’. The way his eyes darken when he scans every inch of me, and the way he looks ready to devour me does the opposite of calming me down.

I can only pray to any force out there that I make him feel the way he makes me feel.

“I’ll do more than touch,” the palm of his hand skims the side of my breast, and he leans in. “I’ll do anything to show you you’re mine,” he whispers into my ear. The adrenaline is almost too much - I’m aching for him.

“Then show me what it’s like to be yours,” I whisper back.

He doesn’t look at me, his eyes stay on my lips for a few moments, then he moves down, taking one tit into his mouth leaving me breathless. His fingers tweak the other one, occasionally switching.

“Jungkook- ah!” I gasp. He presses and gropes, then instant repeats. His skin is touching mine in every spot while his tongue continues its ministrations on my chest. I grab onto his hair in case I faint and lean my head onto the tree. The worry of getting bugs on me disappears when he nibbles on my skin.

“I can’t wait much longer,” he sighs when coming back up. His fingers slide into my pants, and push into the space between my legs. I don’t expect it and cry into his mouth. “I don’t want to rush, bunny, but I can tell you’re as desperate as I am.”

I want to argue that I’m not, but it would be a lie. And it’s hard to argue with his fingers pumping in and out of me. He starts to kiss on my neck while his thumb joins in rubbing my clit. I feel a tension building in my stomach, then the knot unties and I release onto his hand.

I’m still on my high when his fingers slip out and he licks them clean. I watch him and I’m prepared to do anything for this man. He already looks fucked out and I haven’t done anything to him. His hair is a mess but it’s a result of the rain mixed with my fingers moving it every which way.

“Now I know you’re ready,” he pants. His pants fall to the ground, revealing the hard-on standing up. It isn’t fair that even his cock is perfect too.

His eyes fall to my pants.

“Can I. . . ?” he asks. I nod, slow.

His hands are gentle as he peels my pants down my legs. I’m suddenly self-conscious when they come down, afraid of him spotting any hair or any marks but if he notices them, he doesn’t bring them up.

“I’ve been thinking about this the past few days. How I’ll make you mine, how I’ll make you scream for me, how I’ll take care of you every day after. . .” He rambles before putting his lips on me again, the kiss frantic and wild, our tongues mixing all while pulling me closer, his hands move to my bare ass. “Jump,” he whispers, and I follow his instruction.

My back hits the tree and our centers touch, bare skin to bare skin. It’s almost overwhelming. I feel as if I’m going to fall, but he makes it look so easy holding me. My heart grows ten times.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He draws me out of my head with a curious glance. I shrug, not really knowing how to explain it, but he still doesn’t move, waiting. “Are you regretting this?”

I hit him on the shoulder. “How could you say that when I’m still here and fully naked mind you!”

“Then what was that look?”

“I just . . .” I pause. It’s nerve-wracking to be vulnerable in front of him. I’m already naked physically, but to be emotionally naked is different. “I keep thinking about how perfect you are.” There’s a surprise written all over his face. “Don’t think for a second I would regret this, even if we are in the middle of a downpour,” I instruct.

A small smile appears on his face.

“You’re perfect for me,” he plants a kiss on my lips before he turns his attention down to adjust himself. He slides into me slowly and a whimper leaves my throat. His hand soothes me, massaging the skin on my butt.

His head falls onto my shoulder, and we stay like that for a few moments as he inches in.

When he starts to move, I already feel the tree scratching my bare back, but I don’t mind the pain with pleasure.

Every part of the front of me slides against him and the rest of my body feels sticky from the humidity. It’s messy, but I can’t imagine this any other way.

His breathing grows heavy as he thrusts into me. His jaw is clenched as he lifts me up and down.

“You’re beautiful. I wish you could see what I’m seeing,” he breathes. “Y/N, oh God, Y/N,” he groans. His words set off a spark in me bigger than before. It’s good to know that even when I’m naked, sticky, messy, he can still see me as beautiful. “I should’ve kept those guys alive and let them watch,” his tone is different now. “I should have let them watch what they couldn’t have.”

“Jungkook, pelase -”

He balances me on one arm, using the other to hold the side of my head while he kisses me.

“I’m almost- oh gosh,” I cry, but before I can jump over the edge he slides out of me. “Jungkook? What are you-?”

I hold onto him when he moves and puts me onto the wet dirt. It’s cold and slushy at first, then warms up at the same time Jungkook hovers over me.

“This is how I always dreamt about you with me,” he says, and slides into me again, my heels locking around his waist and on his back. His body weight rests on me as he moves again and his head falls into my neck.

It doesn’t take long to get me right back to the edge, and from the way his thrusts are getting messier, he’s going to meet me there.

“Jungkook!” I cry as I spill onto him and he does the same.

I notice it’s not raining anymore when all the noise and movement stops.We lay there for a few moments in the quiet after he slides out of me, however, his weight is still resting on me.

“Is your penis gone when you turn into a beast?” I ask, killing the silence. He laughs into my shoulder then lifts his head.

“Why? Do you wanna fuck him too?” he suggests. I smack his shoulder. “Thank you, by the way. I know dragging a beast the same weight of a tree was not the easiest. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I had to,” I argue. “You’ve saved me more than once now. The least I could do was try one time.”

“You helped me twice, actually,” he says. I’m back to when we were kids.

“And there might be many more times after this,” I put a hand on his cheek.

“And I’ll save you each,” he plants a kiss on my lips, “and every,” another kiss, “time,” a more passionate one. We stay naked on that floor for hours, looking up into the trees, wondering what life or death situation we’ll have to save each other from tomorrow.

#bts #bts imagines #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook bts #jungkook smut

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rafes-slut · 3 months ago

Note

hi hi can u write something with rafe who doesnt know how to comfort sad reader so he just… fucks her to make her stop crying 🙏🏽

Shut You Up

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x You

Warnings: Smut (18+), unprotected sex, slight dub-con (Rafe doesn’t ask for permission, but you don’t stop him), rough sex, mild choking, overstimulation, toxic dynamics, emotional manipulation, possessive Rafe, Rafe being bad at emotional comfort, crying, angst, slight aftercare.

Rafe had never been good at comforting people.

He knew how to start fights, how to finish them. He knew how to win, how to manipulate, how to force things to go his way. But when it came to soft things—handling emotions, talking through problems, wiping away tears—he was fucking useless.

That’s why your crying was driving him insane.

He had been sitting on the edge of his bed, watching you as you curled up on his mattress, sobbing into his pillow. He had tried, for all of two minutes, to awkwardly tell you that “it’s not that bad” and “you’ll be fine.” But none of it worked. You kept crying. And it made his skin crawl. Not because he didn’t care, but because he had no idea how to make it stop.

And Rafe hated feeling powerless.

So, he did the only thing he knew how to do.

Without a word, he got up, gripping your wrist and pulling you onto your back. You gasped, startled, looking up at him with wet, swollen eyes. His expression was hard—frustrated, intense.

“Rafe—”

“Shut up.” His voice was firm, low. His hands were already pushing up your shirt, his rough fingers grazing your ribs. “You’re crying over some bullshit that doesn’t matter, and I can’t fucking listen to it anymore.”

You sniffled, confusion flickering across your face, but you didn’t stop him as he pulled your shirt over your head. Maybe you knew what was coming. Maybe you wanted it.

“I-I just…”

His fingers hooked into your shorts, tugging them down your thighs in one smooth movement.

“Did I tell you to talk?” His voice was sharp, impatient.

You shivered.

Your panties were soaked, and Rafe smirked when he noticed. “Oh, so you like this?” He let his fingers trail between your legs, pressing against the damp fabric. “You like crying in my bed and then letting me fuck it out of you?”

You whimpered, and he took that as a yes.

Rafe wasn’t gentle. He never was. He shoved his own clothes off, not bothering to take his time. His cock was already hard, leaking against his stomach as he spread your thighs wider, settling between them.

He didn’t prep you. He didn’t ask if you were ready. He just pushed inside, groaning at the way your walls clenched around him. You gasped, your fingers gripping at his arms.

“Rafe—”

He grabbed your jaw, squeezing your cheeks until your lips parted. “I told you to shut the fuck up.” His thrusts were deep, rough, each one pressing the breath from your lungs. “You wanna cry? I’ll give you something to cry about.”

You didn’t stop crying—but now it was for an entirely different reason.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as pleasure mixed with the remnants of your sadness, your body trembling beneath him. Rafe leaned down, his mouth brushing over your damp skin, his teeth scraping against your throat.

“Fucking take it,” he growled.

You did. You took everything he gave you. His cock hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur, his hands gripping your body like he owned it, his pace relentless.

Your orgasm crashed over you before you could even think to fight it, a strangled moan ripping from your throat as your back arched. Rafe didn’t stop. He didn’t slow down. If anything, he went harder, chasing his own high.

You whimpered as overstimulation settled in, but he didn’t let up. “You can handle it,” he muttered. “You can take it. You’re a big girl, right?”

You didn’t answer, too lost in the pleasure, too lost in him.

Rafe groaned, his thrusts growing sloppy as he reached his limit. He buried himself deep, spilling inside you with a strangled curse. For a moment, he stayed there, catching his breath, his weight heavy on top of you.

Then, finally, he pulled out, his release dripping from your swollen cunt. He looked down at you, still wrecked, still trembling. His brows furrowed.

“…Feel better?”

You let out a shaky breath.

Yeah. You did.

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thewickedjazzy · 6 months ago

Text

Bonus Level: “Swoon Over You” [Gravity Suspension x Body worshipping] for Kinktober.

♡soft dom! chuuya x afab curvy! reader.

Synopsis: your thoughts have been clouded by quiet insecurities lately, but of course your boyfriend knows every inch of you better than you do, showing just how much he craves every part of you, even the ones you doubt.

Warnings: ņsfw, mdni, smųt, soft dom! chuu, lovesick! chuu, car sex, mention of insecurities, reader has a female body, alice in wonderland syndrome, titty job, suspension, marking up, body worshipping, unprotected sex.

W/C: 2.3k, this bonus fic is for my bbg hattie <3 @writingandmusing thank you for always supporting me bb and so sorry for being late :( xoxo, divider credits: @/toastray.

you slump against the cool, supple leather of the car seat, eyes half-lidded from the exhaustion that's pressing on every bone of your body, and the rhythmic sound of tires against the asphalt only makes things worse, lulling you into a dazed state as your thoughts race, faster than the car’s smooth glide over the road.

the mission had drained you, both physically and mentally, but that wasn’t what had you on edge now. no, it’s the way you’re trying to sink into the seat, making yourself as small as possible, but the longer you’re still, the more your mind drifts to everything that makes you feel too much. too wide, too thick, too everything.

you try not to shift, not to make it obvious how your thighs seem to take up all the space in the seat, how your hips feel a little more prominent when you sit, thighs not as thin as the other girls around the mafia. and to make it worse, the soft pressure against the fabric of your skirt feels suffocating, but you won’t pull it down now. you just can't. even though you really want to. instead, you bite your lip and force your gaze to the window, watching the city blur past you as you try your best to be calm, pretending like none of it matters, but the redhead executive sitting next to you knows better. he always does.

a soft sigh slips from his lips, your boyfriend of two years knows your tactics just too well, “yer tryin' not to adjust yer skirt, huh? bet that's makin' ya uncomfortable.” he says as a quiet observation. and you can not help but feel the weight of it in your chest. you know for sure that it’s not just a simple comment.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you can’t admit it, can’t tell him what you’re thinking, how every little motion feels like it’s screaming at you.

“you’re lying,” his voice is barely louder than the hum of the engine. “and you know i hate that.”

“i’m not—” your voice cracks, seriously? now?

“babe, i’ve noticed. every time, it’s like yer trynna disappear or somethin’.” he drawls, voice dropping an octave, “i love it, y’know. i love how you fill out that skirt. how your hips look when you’re sittin’ all tense like that. makes me wanna–”

the executive's gaze flickers, almost instinctively, to your thighs – those full, plush curves you can’t seem to hide, “makes me wanna rip that skirt off, pull ya right into my lap and fuck you dumb.”

his voice is a velvet storm, the kind you can’t resist, every syllable crashing into you like a wave of heat, sweeping you beneath its pull, making your thighs tighten, instinctively pressing together.

his hand shifts from the armrest, moving slowly, until it’s at the edge of your seat. you don’t have to look to know where his fingers are heading, breath catching in your throat as his eyes flick up to meet yours briefly, with a well-known smirk blooming at the corner of his lips just the moment his fingers press lightly against the thick, rounded softness of your thighs.

“yer thighs... hmph~ fuckin' delicious.” he leans in, soft pink lips pressing against your neck as his hand pushes further, gloved thumb traces slow circles on your skin, yet you can’t stop the way your body reacts, “want me to show you how flawless you are, baby?”

“chuuya! we’re in a car, for god’s sake... a fucking mafia chauffeur is literally driving us right now.” you hiss, trying to shove his hand away, but the movement is like the ebb and flow of the tide, pulling back only to crash against what it desires.

“ tsk tsk.. babe, you worry too much,” the redhead mutters, fingers digging into your thigh, the heat from your skin almost making him drunk on it. “we got a soundproof glass for a reason, sweetheart. he won’t hear a damn thing.”

“but..chuu–” you bite your lip, trying to force down the heat rising in your chest.

“ain’t no one stopping me but you.” his voice is so smooth, almost tender, but his body says otherwise, pressing against you, and you can definitely feel the telltale strain of his dress pants — he’s too locked in now, “tell me to stop, babe and i will...but we both know you don’t really want me to.”

the weight of his hands changes, pressing harder, pinning you in place like iron shackles — not just hands anymore but something more insidious. his gravity manipulation seeps in, the red hue force tightening around your limbs just enough to leave you breathless. you can't move. can't struggle. and honestly... do you even want to?

“fuck baby... look at you,” the executive's voice cuts through your haze as he leans back to drink you in. the seatbelt suddenly comes alive under his touch, snapping against your wrists, jerking your arms above your head with a sharp tug. did he plan this? or was it 'a heat of the moment impulse?’ not that it matters cause you’re already wincing as the straps bite into your skin, securing you against the cold window.

“does it hurt?” he purrs, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk that’s more taunt than his question. you shake your head, lips parting slightly as the same pressure that paralyzed your arms works its way lower, pulling your body closer until you're forced against him, feeling your back digs into the window and your right leg dangles helplessly off the seat as the rest of you is stretched taut in his grip.

he hasn’t touched you — not really — but it doesn’t matter. cause you can feel him everywhere already. the car feels smaller, claustrophobic, the air pressing against your chest as his fingers twitch, moving toward your legs like they have a mind of their own. slowly, more like agonizingly, they hover just above your skin, undeniable foretaste humming in your veins more and more feeling him leer over you, cataloguing every reaction, every involuntary twitch of your muscles.

“every damn inch of you gets me harder than you can imagine.” his hands finally land on your thigh, tearing the sheer fabric with ease, fingers pressing down to trace your folds through your undies before sliding up and down your inner thighs with adoration. “and yet... here ya are, hidin’ from me. thinkin’ there’s parts of you i wouldn’t worship.”

your breathing quickens, a shallow staccato, and you hate the way you’re shaking under him — not with fear, not exactly, but with something far more compromising. the seatbelt strains against you as you instinctively jerk your arms, testing the hold, but it’s useless. you’re caught, bound, and his ability doesn’t just control your body. it strips away your autonomy, leaving you suspended in his web. and he knows it.

his fingers find the buttons of your shirt, popping them open with maddening ease. “wanna know what’s so damn unique about your body, dollface?” his palm slides over your lace bra, fingers curling possessively as he squeezes softly. you gasp sharply, feeling his hot mouth against your skin, trailing open kisses down your collarbone, sharp teeth nipping before his tongue soothes the sting. you can’t move, can’t think — only feel him, feel his possessive grip on you tightening as he groans low in his chest, “fuhh-kk – those fat titties get me off harder than you’d ever imagine.”

“ch-chuu– stop teasing please.” you whimper with a trembling breath as you arch into him, desperate for more. more of his touch, more of his kisses, as if each fleeting moment only leaves you craving the next. he growls low in his throat, oh- that sound that makes your heart race, pumping blood faster as he deftly undoes the buttons of his vest and dress shirt. your hands ache to roam, to trace the hard lines of his body, to feel the muscles beneath your palms that have haunted your dreams during your time apart. honestly, you can't deny it — not even for a second — how much you’ve missed him, how every inch of him feels like a need too urgent to ignore.

“lemme show you, doll. lemme use every fuckin’ piece of you until you see what i see.” chuuya rasps unbuttoning his belt urgently, he couldn’t stop the way his cock twitched the second it's freed it from his uniform slacks. hard enough now that the foreskin slowly began peeling back on it’s own. he moves closer already palming it. you swallow down the lump in your throat, instinctively parting your lips lewdly, thinking he’d claim your mouth, but he had other plans.

his index finger curls around your bra gore pushing your tits together, cerulean eyes rolling back lost in a wave of pleasure as his cock slides between your breasts, squeezing them tighter with each thrust. grumbling above you, strands of fiery hair hanging in his face as he continued to fuck your tits over and over again.

“jesus fu-hkin’, yer tellin’ me ngh– you hate ’em? look at ’em getting me off–fuckk.” he's too riddled with lust head to toe to even move at this point. he wanted to say something but you fogged his mind so completely that chuuya is now reduced to a moaning mess. a few beads of pre-cum roll down his shaft, soaking your tits and making it even easier as he continues thrusting as his gravity ability still holds your wrists pinned above your head.

chuuya leans down to kiss you, hot mouth crashing feverishly against yours, tongue poking in and swirling around yours as he sucks a bit harsher than usual before aligning himself perfectly with your slit. it feels like a fever dream — you don’t even recall how he changed positions so quickly, wrapping your legs around his slim waist and securing them tightly with his ability. and then you catch it, that half-lidded look of his, the one he always gives you before he pushes in. so full of love and adoration, like he’s already on cloud nine. his jaw goes completely slack as he sinks into you, as if the sheer feeling of your tight walls around him is enough to undo him entirely.

“fuck! chuu– ba-byyy– mmffuch” your desperate pleas are swallowed as he kisses you again, this time far messier.

teeth, tongue, spit — he just adores how you taste. your wet cupid's bow quivers into a pout as he ups his pace, a rarity for him. usually, he’s slow and sweet, savouring every moment, never rushing, always ensuring you’re not hurt. after all, he’s pretty thick, and no matter how many times you’ve done this, it always takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size.

he breaks the kiss, teeth sinking into your collarbone, your breasts, your shoulders, marking you with a trail of bruises that will soon bloom into a tapestry of stormy violet, soft grey, and deep green.

“shit umph..every inch of you – is ugh – etheral..” one hand grips your thighs firmly, while the other latches into your nipple tongue flicking away to make your back arch in response. “ ’m so fuckin’ gone for you baby.”

“y-yes – fuck don't stop chuu– i-i need you... i need more please-”

“y-yeah? want me to show you how much i love you, hmm? fuck you like – oh shit –you’re mine, baby? ‘cause you are — every inch of you – oh fuck – ‘can feel your pussy swallowin’ me. so tight. so perfect.” both your minds are completely overtaken by the intense pleasure and the love you have for each other, oblivious to the car rattling as his cock repeatedly hits your g-spot over and over again, never slowing, never faltering for a second. he's lost in the pleasure, consumed by his love for you.

“this pussy’s mine, yeah? jus’ mine – no one else fucks you like this only me. ‘s gonna – ‘s gonna make me – fuhh-ckk”

erotic breaths and moans fill the car as you bodies rock together, riding out your release in perfect rhythm, the heat between you both building, bodies pressed close, pressure intensifying with every thrust. and just for a few seconds his gravity ability wavers enough for your wrists to slip free and wrap tightly around him, pulling him closer as 'i love yous' spill from his lips, each word nourishing your orgasm, making it smolder like fire as you both melt into each other.

chuuya presses his forehead to yours as you both try to catch your breath.

"i love you so much chuu…" you murmur softly, feeling his hot breaths fanning across your neck.

his lips hover over yours, kissing you gently, over and over, drinking you up like his favourite wine. “say it again, baby,” he whispers between kisses, “i need to hear it.”

you smile, rolling your eyes playfully as you feel your heart swell with adoration, “i love you, chuuya.”

the so-called-ruthless executive chuckles, gloved hands tenderly cupping your face. “oh yeah? say it one more time baby, please?” he says playfully now, but still adorned with a sweet vulnerability, as you both melt into laughter and sweet kisses, whispering sweet nothings, oblivious to the fact that you'll be arriving at headquarters in just five minutes.

well, for now? the mafia can wait.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irazai @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguru @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @perlaslibrary @remlionheart @osamucide @ranpazz @naviiq

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lustlovehart · 7 months ago

Note

Dang over 700, that’s impressive congrats!

If you still have requests open, maybe we can see/hear more about Sebek? I love the idea of him as a swamp monster tsundere dumping flowers on MH! Reader and find him fun~

Summary: Humans are pests. They’re the reason Malleus has fallen from grace, and why Lilia is no longer in his prime. He hates you, and everything your job stands for. He hates the way you’re not like them. He hates how you’re too kind. He wants to hate you, yet he can’t at all.

Warnings: Tiny bit of Tsundere Sebek, He thinks about 💀 you (he changes his mind dw guys!!), Mentions of his monster crimes, Little tiny hint of obsession, Implied human eating, Sebek sketch at end!

Your feet are dipped into the water, ripples cascading off where the limbs land, tranquil and cold, the shadows of the trees just further enriching the experience.

The one thing that isn’t relaxing about the water however, may as well be the guardian of the swamp, who’s practically breathing down your neck.

“Well human? Have you had your fill of this sacred marsh? I will not have you linger here longer than necessary! I only allowed you in to show the true essence of beings like us.”

Despite what leaves his mouth, you have a striking feeling that he won’t throw you out.

Because, that’s the fourth time he’s said that, and he’s yet to drag you out.

Through the close proximity, you place your palm on his face, softly pushing him away in your annoyance, yet like a magnet, he attracts himself right back to you, finding his place in the area to be right by your side.

“I’ve drowned many of your kind, don’t push me away so carelessly…!”

“Have you drowned me yet?” He stutters for a moment, racking his brain to find a suitable excuse as to why that is. He stops when you lean back on the grass, looking up at the sky as you lay down.

But to your dismay, he finds one.

“My liege wants you alive, so we must do what he wants.”

“You want the best for him right? What if the best for him is getting rid of me?” You’ve once again stopped any retort on his tongue, your eyes fluttering shut. Your feet continues to dangle in his waters, breath steadying as you let the sound of dew drops falling into the marsh invade your ears.

In your slumber, you don’t notice the way Sebeks scaley face is centimeters away from yours, trembling inhales. You’re right. Getting rid of humans is the best for his liege, for… all monsters really.

His clawed hand reaches up towards your throat, his nails scratching a line in your skin. Webbed fingers tremble, he could, he really could…

He could help everyone.

…

His hand falls, his forehead falling onto yours. His skin is rough, but he takes care in placing his head softly on yours to not wake you up. His palm follows in suit, laying itself on your throat, cold blood feeling the warmth of your mortal body.

And your heart. He remembers reading about human hearts, how they’re important to they’re bodily functions. Without it, you’d die. It’d be easier than killing you himself. He doesn't know which is better, for himself. He could take pride knowing he rid the world of one more wretched monster hunter, or he could rest in comfort knowing you passed in peace.

Sebek doesn’t notice the way the plants have emerged from the water, taking hold of your legs. There’s a particular branch that caresses your face in a certain manner, one completely inappropriate for a human. His mouth hangs up, immediately ripping the wood from your flesh. He throws the twig away, his head turning when your visibly stir at the motion.

He’s not well versed in human care. He's read about it, but obviously he’s never acted upon it! His hands fumble, if he’s correct, one of the quickest ways to knock a human out is to hit them really hard…! But… He doesn’t wanna do that—

Ah, you’re asleep again.

Sebek carefully lifts himself from your body, water dripping onto the grass from his hair. He slowly backs himself into the water, the only part visible being his head, before entirely disappearing into the murky water.

He realizes something in the comfort of his pond.

He… He wouldn’t need to kill you if you just… never left. Neither would you ever disturb the peace of any other beasts.

Under that water, he ties a knot, petals floating above the marsh at his bouquet. As well as a hand, that drops deep down. A coworker of yours. He’s unsure why you’re the only one he’s not too keen on consuming, yet he can so easily do it to those you know.

It doesn’t matter. They’re the same. Taste the same too.

…

You awake to a lonely sight, Sebek gone from the scene. Though, your chest feels heavier than usual. You look down, and an array of different plants and greenery fill your vision. It’s wrapped in flimsy wood bark, moss tying the piece together.

There’s a note hastily inscribed.

Human, leave soon.

Even without reading the message you know it’s Sebek. You assume it’s from his human hatred he writes such mean words.

In truth, that’s part of it. You’ll never know the other is him not wanting to see the corpses at the bottom of his home. Or maybe you will. Especially when you notice a shiny pendant gifted inside the flowers. Assuming it to be a sweet gesture from Sebek you smile at it. Such a happiness slowly fades when you feel a certain familiarity with the necklace.

… You feel like you’ve seen this before.

#monster!twst #askves #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vesperwrites #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yan twst

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dyli-dadi3 · 4 months ago

Text

Be My Valentine

When a drop-dead gorgeous girl keeps on coming to your drive-through, it's pretty damn hard not to ask her out. Well, not if you're Leon.

Just a cute lil blurb of Leon awkwardly asking you to be his Valentine. Tags: Fluff, Leon being a cutie. No seriously, he makes me wanna explode.

When Leon handed you your order that one fateful morning, he nearly dropped it. God, you were so pretty it hurt to look at you.

The sun was just rising, casting a warm glow on your skin. Your smile was so bright that he swore you flashed him in the eyes. Or maybe that was the glare from your car as you drove away.

Either way, your face plagued his thoughts. He felt like a fool. He couldn't even remember what lame phrase he uttered as you thanked him. The memory was blurry, and he was honestly thankful for it. He's sure that any chance was lost after you heard him babble like a kid. If you weren't turned off by the fact that he worked at McDonalds.

God, he really had no chance, huh?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The second time you showed up, he was just as surprised. But this time, he ensured he properly handed you your food and wished you a good day. Your smile was rushed, but you thanked him anyway as you sped off.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Every day for the next week you showed up. It quickly became the highlight of his day. Every morning you would order a breakfast combo, and he would be warmed to the core with your kind words and bright smile. He'd make it his mission to be in the drive-through whenever you were supposed to be. It got so bad that his coworkers would always tease him.

"H-Have a nice day, ba-baby!" One of them whispered with a laugh when you drove off.

"Oh, shut it!" Leon's ears began to turn red as he rushed to grab a cup and fill it with Sprite.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He flopped onto his bed, damp hair wetting his pillow as he sighed. He thought about you, as normal for him. But today was different.

It was a week until Valentine's Day, and he couldn't stop thinking of you. He wouldn't kid himself, picking up girls was never his strong suit. Yeah, he somehow finds himself dating 10's, but that doesn't mean he means to! It just... kinda happens.

But he feels so strongly about you. With every little bit of information he gets out of you, he gets more and more invested. Of course, it isn't groundbreaking lore, but it's you and he can't help but find it interesting. He wants to know more.

He spends his nights thinking about what you love and hate, fantasizing about having a real conversation with you and learning everything you're willing to give him. It's maddening.

The thought of being too late, of you finding someone else before him is impossible, so he decides that that won't happen. Not while he's still alive and kicking.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :��ﾟ. ───

The next day comes and he's shaking like a leaf, face pale and so sickly that his manager almost sent him straight home. He pleaded, assuring her that he was fine (bless her heart, she's the only manager that doesn't make him want to rip his hair out).

He waits anxiously in the first window, waiting to see your car drive into the drive-through.

7:30...

7:31...

7:31 and thirty seconds...Oh!

He was gonna throw up, he was sure of it. If he somehow didn't, he was positive that his stupid mouth would slur his words into alphabet soup. God, if he had to repeat himself?!?! That's usually what the person in the car does. God, would you think he's incompetent? You order the same dang thing every day,

In the two seconds that his mind took to tear itself apart, you pulled up to the intercom and rolled down the window.

"Good mo-morning, will you be using the mobile app today?" Fuck.

"No, can I just have my usual order, Leon?" You giggled, the sound making his knees weak despite the shitty intercom system.

Of course you'd laugh at him, you never use the app.

He never got why you didn't. I mean, you're coming here every day, it would save you money. But you would always smile and shake your head whenever he brought it up so he just stopped. He never got why you used cash, either, but he didn't want to start bothering you, so he spent his limited time with you talking about more interesting things.

"Of course, pull up to the first window." He said with furrowed brows. He didn't bother telling you the price, it was still the same as it had always been. But this time, he had something extra to give you.

Soon enough, you were pulling up with your money in your hand. He took the cash and took a deep breath as he did the transaction.

"He's your receipt, " he said, handing you the printed slip of thermal paper. Before you could leave, he turned to you, his face bright red and his hands shaking like he was tweaking, and handed you a box of sweets. "Y-You forgot your change."

Your eyes widened as you took the candy, face flushing as you saw the sticky note taped to the front.

Will you be my Valentine? XXX-XXX-XXXX

Your eyes darted to his, face plastered with that bright smile he adored so much as you nodded.

"I would love to, Le-"

HONK!

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #x reader #leon s kennedy #fanfic #re2 remake #resident evil #awkward flirting #socially awkward

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aventurineswife · 3 months ago

Note

don’t wanna be annoying buuuut can i request a sick fic with Aventurine taking care of Reader?

maybe Reader is kinda overemotional when they’re sick — they’re always feeling sad or irritated when they’re like this. they try their best to behave tho!!

(my dad may or may not have gotten sick. and just being around him may have gotten me sick too… 😭)

Calculated Kindness

Summary: When you fall ill, Aventurine takes it upon himself to care for you, blending his characteristic charm and subtle vulnerability. As you struggle with the emotional toll of being sick, he offers comfort in his own unique way, revealing glimpses of the man beneath his flamboyant facade.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sickfic, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Emotional Vulnerability, Subtle Angst, Protective Aventurine, Reader Feels Useless (me honestly), Tender Moments.

Warnings: Mild emotional distress (Reader struggles with feeling weak and overemotional while sick), Brief mention of dehydration (in a lighthearted context), General themes of vulnerability and comfort.

A/N: bestie, you're never annoying me 😭🙏. Also, rip I hope you get well by the time this fic comes out 😔🙏 (ngl I can relate lmaoo happened to me plenty of times)

The first thing you noticed upon waking was the ache, sharp and unrelenting, throbbing behind your eyes. The second thing was Aventurine’s voice, low and teasing, cutting through the fog of your illness like a finely sharpened blade.

"Ah, you're awake," he said, his tone laced with that familiar blend of charm and calculation. "And here I thought I’d have to call the medics—or, at the very least, write you a will."

You groaned, shifting beneath the blanket cocoon he'd apparently wrapped you in. The weight of his gaze made you simultaneously want to melt into the bed and throw something at him.

“I’m not dying,” you muttered hoarsely. “Just… sick.”

His lips curled into a smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was seated at the edge of your bed, legs crossed, his overcoat draped casually over the back of the chair. His hat rested on the nightstand beside a tray of what looked like soup, tea, and a suspiciously well-folded napkin.

“Good,” he said lightly. “Because while I’m known for extravagant gambles, I draw the line at dragging corpses around.”

You tried to glare at him, but it came off more as a tired pout. "You could at least pretend to feel bad for me."

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and tilted his head with mock concern. “Darling, I am positively heartbroken. Can’t you see the sorrow etched into every perfect feature of my face?”

Despite yourself, a weak laugh bubbled up. "You're insufferable."

“And yet, you keep me around.” His grin softened into something warmer as he plucked the tea from the tray and handed it to you. “Here. Drink. Hydration is key, or so I’m told.”

You took the cup, cradling it in trembling hands. The warmth was soothing, though it didn’t do much to quell the swirl of emotions bubbling beneath the surface. Being sick always turned you into a mess—sad, irritable, and just a little bit pathetic.

He must have noticed your expression shift, because his voice dropped to something quieter, less performative. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just…” You trailed off, swallowing hard. The tea in your hands blurred as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “I hate feeling like this. Useless. Weak. I hate that you have to take care of me.”

His brow furrowed slightly, though the gesture was almost imperceptible. “Is that what this is about?”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay. “I’m trying to be good, I promise. I’m just—”

“Stop.” His voice was gentle but firm, cutting through your spiraling thoughts. He reached out, placing a hand over yours. The warmth of his skin was a grounding contrast to the chaos in your chest. “You don’t have to ‘be good’ for me. And you’re certainly not weak.”

“You don’t understand,” you whispered. “You’re… you’re you. Always in control, always on top of everything. And I’m just…”

“Human?” he supplied, his tone laced with dry humor.

You scowled at him, though it lacked any real heat. “I mean it, Aventurine. You’re too good at this.”

A flicker of something crossed his face—an emotion you couldn’t quite place. For a moment, his usual mask of confidence and charm slipped, revealing a glimpse of the man underneath.

“I’m not as infallible as you think,” he said quietly. “I’ve just had a lifetime of practice pretending.”

You blinked at him, startled by the honesty in his words.

“But this?” He gestured vaguely to the tray of soup and tea, the carefully tucked blankets, the feather-light touch of his hand against yours. “Taking care of someone I care about? That’s not pretending.”

Your chest tightened, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. “Aventurine…”

“None of that now,” he said, his teasing tone returning as he gently brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “If you cry too much, you’ll dehydrate, and then I really will have to call the medics.”

You huffed out a weak laugh, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

“There’s the smile I’ve been waiting for,” he said, his grin widening. “Now, finish your tea like a good patient, and maybe I’ll let you win our next card game.”

You snorted, lifting the cup to your lips. “You never let anyone win.”

“True,” he admitted, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. “But I do make an excellent nurse, don’t you think?”

As much as you hated to admit it, he wasn’t wrong.

Now I need to see him in a nurse dress... 😔🙏

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cressidagrey · 9 months ago

Text

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 12

Summary:

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings:

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, Burns, Discussion of suicidal thoughts (If this triggers you, PLEASE don't read it), Discussion of very "human" ideas of modesty, and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

“I can hear your fucking thoughts, even though I am not a daemati, so talk to me, Az,” Cassian grumbled.

Azriel turned his head, ceasing to stare at the ceiling as he had been doing for hours.

He couldn't get Eira's words out of his head. He hated the images her words had conjured up in his head — his sweet mate sitting in her bathing chamber, rocking back and forth, holding herself as tight as she could, trying to block everything out.

His mate, who had wanted to die.

The very thought was enough to make him want to break something, to find something to punch and claw at until his knuckles bled and his skin lay in tattered scraps. Until his rage and agony burned the images out of his mind, until he wasn't so sick to his stomach that he was half-convinced he was going to physically get ill.

"Stop thinking," Cassian said, still watching him with a grim expression that mirrored his own thoughts.

Azriel didn't bother answering him. Right now, he didn't even want to be here in this room. He didn't want to lie on this bed, staring at the ceiling, when he could be with his Eira.

His sweet, sweet mate, who would have hurled herself off a balcony or cut off her ears because it had all just...been too much.

Even the mere thought made his stomach lurch as if he was going to be sick. Gods, she had wanted to die, and he hadn't noticed. He hadn't known.

He had walked around, blissfully oblivious, thinking that she was better, that she was settling into life here as a High Fae, when she…

She hadn't told him, she hadn't said a damn thing, and he should have known from the start, should've known that she wasn't okay.

He should have paid more attention, should've pushed harder when she seemed upset, and instead, he'd just...he had just left her to struggle on her own when he should have...he should have...

She hadn't told him, she hadn't said a damn thing, and he should have known from the start, should've known that she wasn't okay.

“Talk to me, Az. Please."

He closed his eyes, trying to stop himself from thinking, and he could still see her, sitting in her bathing chamber, rocking back and forth, humming so she wouldn't have to listen, and he didn't even know for how long she had been doing that right under his nose, how much pain she had been in and how he had just let her...

"I should have known," he said quietly, the confession almost ripped out of him.

Cassian just listened.

"She's my mate. I should have known how she was feeling."

Cassian didn't say anything this time. He just watched him silently for a moment, the concerned look on his face still there.

"And how were you supposed to know?" he said finally. "If she didn't want you to know? If she didn't want to tell you?" Cassian sighed. "I didn't know how bad Nesta was feeling either. Is this about her sparks show when Eira talked to Elain?" he asked her.

Azriel grimaced.

"No," he said firmly. "I just...I couldn't get Eira's comment about stuffing cotton wool into her ears out of my brain. So I asked her," he admitted quietly. "She was...she was doing really badly for a bit," he admitted weakly. It was an understatement.

She had almost hurt herself, had wanted to kill herself instead of dealing with all of this, and he should have known. He should have-

"How can I have been so blind and stupid?" he grumbled more quietly.

"You're not stupid," Cassian retorted instantly. "And you're certainly not blind."

Azriel let out a scoff.

"Then how did I not notice?" he demanded. "How did I not notice that my own mate was...?"

"You're not stupid," Cassian said.

"Yes I am," Azriel snapped back. "I am stupid and a bastard, for not noticing, for not seeing how she felt," he said angrily.

Cassian let out a sharp huff at his words, watching him with an almost frustrated expression.

"None of us saw," Cassian snapped.

The door opened.

"I can hear you arguing," Rhys grumbled as he made his way across the room and flopped down on the bed.

"What's with Feyre?" Cassian asked with some bemusement.

"Feyre decided she would rather have a sleepover with Nesta and Eira," Rhys said with a long-suffering sigh.

Azriel couldn't help the brief hint of a smile at Rhys's words.

"Are you upset that she deserted you?" he asked dryly.

Rhys shot him a weak glare at his words. "I would like my mate to sleep in my bed, yes," he grumbled.

"You sound like a lovesick whelp," Cassian commented, and Rhys muttered something in response, that sounded strangely like oh, like you are any better.

Azriel made a low scoffing sound, a faint, but genuine smile touching his lips.

It vanished again a moment later, as the thoughts about Eira came rushing back.

"I don't understand how I didn't see," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else. "I am such an idiot."

He could feel their gazes turning towards him again, but he didn't bother looking up, still staring at the ceiling, as he clenched his fist around the now-crumpled bedsheets.

"I just...I should have known," he said again. "We are mates. How could I have been so damn blind?"

"How could I have been so blind either?" Cassian asked. "Neither of Feyre, nor Nesta, nor Eira like to burden other people with their problems. Neither of us are mind readers...well other than Rhys."

Rhys let out a low scoff but didn't disagree.

Cassian had a point, but that didn't make Azriel feel any better.

"I still feel like a bastard for not seeing," he muttered.

It was his job to observe. It was literally his entire shtick. How could he not have seen that his own mate was suffering.

"Is it about the cotton wool comment?" Rhys asked quietly.

Azriel let out another huff, this time out of annoyance.

"Yes, it's about the damn cotton wool," he said harshly. "I just can't get the image out of my head. My mate, sitting in her bathing chamber, holding herself like a damn child while she rocks back and forth, listening to herself hum and trying to block everything out."

"She was pulling on her ears at the same time," Rhys said, his voice dark. "I saw a piece of it when I...accidentally went into her mind. She pulled at her ears because they were too long and too pointy and not hers. And then she bit her mouth bloody. It was... bad."

Azriel grimaced at those words, that image conjured up again, in even more detail this time.

He still couldn't quite get a grip on what he was feeling, with each moment that passed. He felt sick to his stomach, enraged, like he wanted to find something to punch, wanted to rip apart with his bare hands. He felt helpless and useless, like he had failed his mate, failed to protect her.

"She said she wanted to throw herself off a goddamn balcony," he said quietly.

Rhys grimaced, and even Cassian's expression darkened.

"She was that bad..." he said quietly. "...How did...how did we not notice?"

"Because she didn't want us to notice," Cassian pointed out.

"I should've still noticed," Azriel snapped back. "I could have...I should have known that she was struggling."

There was a long moment of absolute silence, all of them just staring at the ceiling, probably running through the same thoughts as he did.

Then Rhys let out a sigh, closing his eyes as he spoke.

"How are we so damn incompetent sometimes?"

"Beats the hell out of me," Cassian said. "All three of us are supposed to be at least halfway competent, and you know, not total assholes. We should have known. We should have picked up the goddamn clues."

"And we didn't," Azriel said, his words coming out as a low growl that was almost lost in his chest. "And instead of...of helping her, of being there, she...she dealt with it all on her own, and we just stood around, blundering about like idiots."

His words were met with another moment of silence before Cassian let out a long sigh. "She is alright now, though, right?" he pointed out.

"She's not having thoughts of throwing herself off a damn balcony or cutting her ears off anymore," Azriel said gruffly. "So things have improved at least somewhat. Which I am very, very thankful for."

"So we know that at least," Rhys grumbled. "She's not having those thoughts anymore, at least not right now...although I certainly don’t like that it took her wanting to cut her ears off or throw herself off a balcony to get to this point."

Azriel let out another huff of annoyance.

"I just..." he began and took a deep breath. "It shouldn't have had to get so bad to begin with. We should have seen her struggling, damn it."

"Which we didn't," Cassian said again.

Another moment of silence, where they just laid around the bed, all of them staring at the ceiling, their thoughts going in the same circles. Azriel didn't know if it was a comfort, knowing that the others were feeling almost the same thing he was feeling, or if it was just making everything even worse, the knowledge that there were three of them — three strong, powerful males — and they had still all been so damn blind.

"How's your hand?" Rhys asked him suddenly

Azriel blinked.

"My hand?" he repeated dully, "It's fine," he grumbled. "I don't even feel it. Eira feels horrible though."

"Of course she does," Rhys agreed. "First her powers manifested and burnt a couple of Darkbringers to a crisp...and now her powers hurt you. Her mate." Rhys sighed. "I wish she would see the lightning as something beautiful and not something she must be afraid of," he muttered.

"She will," Azriel said firmly. "One day. She just...she just needs time. It's all still so fresh to her."

He had the feeling it was going to be a very long time before his mate would fully accept her own powers. "She needs to get used to them," he said quietly. "She needs to get used to the fact that she has powers to begin with. Just the idea...it's a lot for her."

"Understatement," Cassian grumbled under his breath. "Especially when you spent 3 years being treated like you were utterly useless like we did."

Azriel winced internally at the words.

It was their fault. They had done that.

The silence that fell after that statement was so deafening, that Azriel swore he could hear it.

They had done that. Eira's self-worth...or lack thereof, her feelings of uselessness and weakness...it was all their fault. And knowing that...knowing how damn useless and shitty they had been, knowing everything his mate had gone through, knowing just how much Eira had struggled, all while they had just blundered about like total idiots, it was a hard pill to swallow.

"How are you feeling about Elain now?" Cassian wondered.

Azriel stiffened slightly at the question.

He...he didn't really know.

Part of him wanted to strangle her, because of everything she had said, everything she had said about his mate.

"I think the worst part...the worst part is the betrayal of it," Azriel said quietly. "She did it to get revenge. Because I turned her down."

Cassian grumbled under his breath at that, and Rhys let out a low scoff of agreement.

"She basically just hurt your mate as revenge for you turning her down," Cassian said, disgust clear in his voice.

Rhys grimaced. "I am sorry, Az," he apologised and Azriel knew why he apologised. Because without Rhys’ order, he wouldn't have stopped....he would have kept pursuing Elain.

Azriel closed his eyes for a moment, forcing a deep breath into his lungs, and trying to push down the anger that rose up at the memory.

"It's not your fault, though," he said quietly. "It's Elain's." That...that was a hard truth.

It was not Rhys's fault. He had no way of knowing this would happen.

All the blame lay with Elain.

"Elain's and her alone," Azriel said, and let out a long, slow breath.

It didn't make him hate Elain any less, though, that was for damn sure.

"I can tell how furious you are," Rhys said dryly, and Azriel let out a low snort.

"That obvious?" he grumbled.

"Oh, you're not exactly subtle," Rhys said dryly. "You're practically grinding your teeth."

"I feel like grinding Elain's face into the floor too," Azriel said lowly and very, very darkly. "And I don't even think that will make me feel any better."

"Let's talk about something nicer," Cassian said quickly. "How's that courting going?"

Azriel blinked at the change in topic, Cassian's question taking a couple of seconds to register.

"Uh...fine," he said after a moment. "Good."

He tried to think about their walks in Velaris, about picnics in the back garden…and not about the image of his mate sitting rocking back and forth in her bathing chamber, pulling at her new, pointed ears and biting her own mouth bloody.

"You sound certain," Cassian teased him and he rolled his eyes.

"I am pretty sure I keep messing it all up because if we actually were human we wouldn't even be allowed in the same room as each other without a chaperone," he said drily. Alone the thought about marrying another person, of spending the rest of his life with them, when he didn’t even have a private conversation with them once…was utterly foreign to him.

But then, maybe it shouldn’t be. Some Illyrian customs were not any better at all. Just more violent.

Rhys let out a low chuckle before he said amused.

“I am sure you made up for that with the sheer amount of birthday presents you gave her,” Rhys quipped with some amusement.

"That were the shadows," he protested weakly.

She deserved them, the shadows said evenly, not bothering to defend themselves. And the next thing you need to do is find a House and a Ring, Master.

Azriel choked on his own spit.

"What was that, Shadowsinger?" Rhys asked dryly, and Azriel grimaced.

"Nothing," he said quickly and tried to keep his face a neutral as possible. "My shadows are just chatting, that's all."

Cassian and Rhys exchanged a long look before Rhys spoke again. "Your shadows are 'chatting' about what, exactly?" Rhys asked, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly now.

Azriel cursed silently under his breath.

"About nothing important," he lied and tried to sound as relaxed as possible, all the while silently praying to any God listening, that Cassian or Rhys would drop it.

They didn’t.

They just looked expectantly at him.

Azriel cursed silently under his breath.

"A House and a Ring," he grumbled. He could hear some of the shadows laughing.

Another long, dead silence fell, and Azriel squeezed his eyes shut again, knowing all too well that his friends were about to make fun of him ruthlessly.

"A House and a ring," Rhys repeated faintly.

Cassian let out a snort of laughter.

"Oh, shut up," Azriel grumbled, refusing to open his eyes again, knowing he would probably see Rhys and Cassian rolling around on the bed with laughter.

"Oh, no, we will absolutely not shut up," Rhys said, and Azriel could hear the smile in his voice. "Because you're thinking of marriage already, aren't you?"

"The books said that 6 months from courtship to a wedding was not unusual," Azriel defended himself.

That earned another loud burst of laughter from Cassian, and Rhys took in a deep breath before he replied, his voice still filled with stifled laughter.

"Oh, yes, six months sounds completely reasonable," Rhys promised him earnestly.

There was another long moment of silence, where Azriel could feel the smirk on Rhys's face without even opening his eyes before Rhys spoke again. "But you are aware that you need to actually propose first, right?"

"Apparently I need the house for that," Azriel said drily. "I am supposed to show that I can provide a place where we can live after the wedding."

"Yes, of course," Rhys said, the very picture of false agreement. "How could I ever suggest otherwise?”

Despite his best efforts, Azriel couldn't hold back a low growl at the amusement in Rhys's voice. Cassian just laughed.

"I need to admit though, humans do it very...interestingly. They apparently don't even have a private conversation for 6 months before, before they ask the female to marry them and then immediately share a bed for the first time." Rhys said with a snort. "Though I guess it's not much different than what Keir wanted to do to Mor."

Another growl tore itself out of Azriel's throat at that reminder.

"Don't," he ground out, "don't even mention that old bastard's name in my presence," he warned, anger bubbling up inside him at the memory of what Keir had done. Not even to just Mor, but to Eira as well.

"Though there is one thing you need to think about," Cassian said drily. "Everything Eira was taught about relationships and sex was the human way."

That managed to make Azriel go still all over, an uncomfortable sensation spreading through his entire chest, while a dark, cold feeling settled in his stomach.

And to make things even worse, Rhys continued with the same dry and far, far too gleeful tone, "Meaning that she willlikely expect you to wait for marriage."

He swallowed. "Then we wait," he said sharply. "I am not going to force her."

"No, of course you won't," Cassian said, suddenly a lot more serious. "We know you would never do that. But Eira probably has some...ideas of how a marriage would work. She seems to be the one of her sisters that still…clings to that the most. She was raised to be a wife, Azriel. She’ll think that your word is law.”

Despite still keeping his eyes closed, Azriel winced at those words. He had already thought about that. He had thought of that fact very heavily.

It was reminding him far too much of Illyria for his peace of mind, to be honest. The idea that he has a male was supposed to have any kind of power over his wife, that she was chattel for him to rule over…It was making him nauseous.

He...he didn't like it at all. Eira thought that he would demand things from her...order her into things... but the idea made him want to punch something.

"Well, she won't think that," Rhys suddenly said, his voice sounding a lot more serious than before.

Azriel slowly opened his eyes at that and glanced at his friend, only to find Rhys's expression had hardened and was looking more...determined than amused.

"She will quickly learn that you will never order her to do anything," Rhys said firmly, and Cassian nodded in agreement.

Azriel just stared for a moment, his chest feeling a lot looser than before and his heart suddenly beating a lot faster.

Cassian and Rhys...they believed it wholeheartedly.

They didn't even doubt one second that he would never demand anything from his mate, from his sweet, gentle, quiet mate, who had been raised to listen and obey.

"You're our brother," Cassian said then, and Azriel's eyes suddenly shot to him. "We've known you for five centuries, and we know that you would rather cut off your own wings than demand anything of Eira."

Rhys nodded.

"We don't doubt for a second that you would never, ever, order her to do anything,"

A wave of gratefulness and grateful love for his brothers washed over Azriel all at once.

They understood.

They knew him. Knew that he would never order his mate to do a damn thing. Knew that the very idea of ordering her was more than enough to make him feel physically ill.

"So about that house..."

Azriel let out a huff at that question.

"I'm working on it," he said but was cut off by another snigger from Cassian.

***

"Scoot over," Feyre demanded in a whisper as she crawled into the bed next to her.

"I thought you would stay with Rhys?" Eira asked, but did as her youngest sister requested, careful not to bother a sleeping Nesta.

There was still light in the room, courtesy of the faelight, neither of them felt comfortable in a pitch-black room since the cauldron.

Feyre just grumbled something unintelligible under her breath at that as she settled in next to her sister, pressing up against Eira.

Eira smiled a little and shuffled on the bed, gently wrapping her arms around Feyre when the latter snuggled close, burying her face against her neck.

"Nyx seems to think that Ra Ra gives the best cuddles. I need some of those," she said, making Eira giggle.

"Of course he does," Eira said, pulling her sister even closer. "Ra Ra is an excellent cuddler."

Feyre bit back the laughter so as not to wake Nesta and caught Eira's hand in hers. "How are you feeling?"

Eira just hummed, trying to figure out the best way to answer that question and finding it far more complicated than it should be.

"I feel...." she started, letting out a long breath as she thought about it. "I feel...I feel better. Still hurt. I don't think that will go away any time soon...but...better."

Feyre nodded slowly as if she had expected the answer.

"I can understand that," Feyre said, playing with her hand and then froze. "Eira, did you make a bargain?"

Eira blinked at the question, a pit opening in her stomach.

"A...a bargain?" she echoed numbly, and Feyre raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes. A bargain," Feyre said, and tugged her hand up, so Eira could see Right there wrapped around the ring finger of her left hand, right where a wedding ring would sit, was a thin black band. Just that it wasn't a band. It was a bargain marking.

Eira stared at it numbly, and for a second, she just stared at it, feeling like she couldn't get any air into her lungs.

The bargain marking was wrapped around her finger, and the only person it could have come from was...

Azriel.

Her mate. That...that was her mate's bargain marking wrapped around her finger.

"Eira...?"

Some part of her was suddenly very glad that Feyre was there with her, because her sister's voice was the only thing that was keeping her at all grounded, and it took several long, shaky, breaths before she could force words out of her suddenly very tight throat.

"Y-yes, I...I made a b-bargain," Eira whispered.

"Accidentally, wasn't it?" Nesta said suddenly turning around. "You two can never manage to be quiet," she mumbled with a yawn. "What are the terms?"

"Yes, accidentally," Eira admitted, and Nesta nodded.

"Thought so," she said dryly, her voice only slightly slurred with sleep. "And the terms?"

Eira swallowed again.

"That I would come to him if I...whenever I have a bad day. The same goes for him."

That seemed to get the attention of both of her younger sisters, Feyre tensing against her and even Nesta's eyes grew a little wider.

"That's...a very loose bargain," Feyre said slowly, and Eira nodded.

"It...it was," she said, "It wasn't on purpose. It was just...just a promise."

"What exactly does it mean when you have a bad day?" Nesta asked her evenly.

Eira opened her mouth to answer but suddenly found that she really, really didn’t want to tell her sisters about the complete breakdown she had had earlier.

"Just.." she mumbled after a moment. "Bad."

Nesta's gaze sharpened.

"What does that mean, bad?" she demanded, the tone leaving no room for arguing.

Eira swallowed again, the fear of the consequences if she told her sisters suddenly growing inside of her.

"T-tired. Like everything is too much." she said, her voice breaking just a little bit as the memory of how much she had cried suddenly crashed down on her, "Or-or I...remember things. Like...like the war," she managed. "And I...I don't feel good. I feel...I feel like I did...after the cauldron. Everything is overwhelming. Everything hurts. I just want it all to stop."

Feyre's arms tightened around her, and Nesta's eyes grew very, very sharp.

"Do you...do you ever...try to hurt yourself?" Nesta asked softly, not quite managing to keep the concern out of her voice.

Eira's eyes widened at that, and she swallowed, shaking her head violently.

"Not...Not anymore," she whispered.

The concern in Nesta's eyes only grew, and she let out a small, shaky breath. "But you...you did?" she asked softly.

Eira just nodded silently, her voice having gone too weak to even speak. "Afte the cauldron...I...used to...sometimes I bit my mouth bloody. Not on purpose!" she assured her sisters. "I just...If I didn't, I was going to be too loud. And I pulled on my hair and my ears but it wasn't..."

A long, long moment of heavy, tension-filled silence fell as Eira spoke, and she bit her lip to keep herself from crying again.

Until Feyre suddenly spoke again, her voice very, very low and very angry.

"How often? How often are your bad days?"

"Not...not often," Eira mumbled, closing her eyes again, because she could literally feel the anger emanating off of Feyre, her normally gentle sister holding onto her tight with a grip that bordered on pain. "And it's really not that bad," she tried to assure them both. "Really. I...I..It's gotten better. The shadows keep me company now when I have nightmares and then it's not..."

"How. Often?" Feyre demanded, her tone leaving no room for arguing. Eira had never, ever, heard her sister use that tone of voice.

"I don't know," she whispered, the words falling out of her mouth seemingly on their own. "A couple of times a month? It used to be more. After the war, it was nearly every day."

A sharp, sharp intake of breath came from Feyre, who pressed closer to her as if trying to keep her from disappearing.

"You...You never told us," Feyre breathed out, and it was clear how hard it was for her not to just...break down and cry. "Why...why didn't you come to us?" Feyre questioned gently, and Eira closed her eyes, feeling herself tearing up at the broken tone in Feyre's voice.

And that...that just made it worse. Her sisters...they were her sisters. She was supposed to tell them when things were bad when she had a bad day. She was supposed to tell them.

"I...I didn't want to worry you," she whispered, and Feyre let out a shaky breath.

"It's our job to worry about you, you idiot," Feyre whispered, pulling her closer and wrapping her arms around her tightly. "You're supposed to tell us," Feyre muttered against her shoulder. "You're supposed to come and find us and we're supposed to hug you and comfort you."

A soft huff came from Nesta, and suddenly one of her hands gently stroked over her hair.

"Next time you have a bad day," Nesta said, tone leaving no room for arguing, "You tell us. Do you understand?"

"I am pretty sure I am supposed to tell Azriel," she protested weakly.

"You can tell him along with us," Feyre said firmly, gently tugging on her hair. "No keeping secrets from your family."

"Absolutely no keeping secrets from us," Nesta agreed. "If we find out you've had a bad day and haven't told us, I'll drag you to training with me."

Eira huffed out a weak chuckle at that because that was a very real threat if Nesta said it. There was no doubt in her mind that her sister would actually make her train with her until she dropped.

"You didn't come to us either," she told Nesta weakly.

"It doesn't matter," Nesta simply said, and her lips tugged into a small smile. "We're changing that now."

"We are," Feyre agreed, and her arms tightened around Eira again. "No more shutting us out. We're sisters. We deal with things together."

Eira let out a shaky breath, and a couple of tears fell down her cheeks as both Feyre and Nesta drew their bodies closer, enveloping her in their arms.

For a long, long moment, the three of them just lay there, soaking in each other's presence and Eira felt herself feeling...safe. Safe and loved.

"There better not be any more secrets," Feyre whispered after they had just laid there for a while, and Eira huffed out a small, dry chuckle.

"I don't have any more secrets," she mumbled, and Nesta let out a low scoff.

"Liar," Nesta told her, but there was no heat behind her words.

"I don't," Eira protested and felt Feyre's hands tighten around her.

"Don't worry," Feyre whispered soothingly, "if you don't have any now, you'll probably have more later," she said with a small smirk, and Eira groaned.

"That's not reassuring," she muttered, making Feyre laugh.

"Ah, but I imagine you'll have some secrets with Azriel eventually," Nesta teased her.

Eira's mouth dropped open at that, and her eyes went wide as a blush started up her cheeks. "I-I- you-"

Feyre snickered but was immediately interrupted by Nesta, who continued to speak, her tone as dry as a desert.

"Please, I don't need to a Seer to know that you two will be hiding quite a few things from us eventually," she said, and Eira suddenly wanted to bury her face against a pillow and die.

"Nesta," Eira protested weakly, but her sister just continued, and this time Feyre had clearly lost the fight against not laughing at her.

"Probably quite a few things at night," Nesta mused, and a strangled squeak came from Eira's mouth as Feyre cackled and her blush turned hotter.

"Can we...can we not...talk about this?" Eira protested, shoving her flushed face into a pillow. "Please?" she mumbled against it.

"Oh, come on," Feyre protested, "Don’t be such a prude about it! It's completely normal!"

Between a married couple! Not between…Not in a courtship!

Not…

"And I won't have my sister have anything but exceptional treatment from a male," Feyre said with a twinkling in her eyes.

“I-I-" Eiran tried to say something at that but found that her tongue had completely failed her. Exceptional treatment from a male...that was...what even meant that?

She hid her flaming face into the pillow again.

"Is he a good kisser?" Nesta asked, sounding curious. "Have you kissed?"

"I'm not answering that," Eira said firmly, her voice sounding very muffled as she kept her face pressed against the pillow. Feyre let out a soft snort.

"Oh, she's definitely kissed him," she said with a snicker as Eira made another protesting sound against the pillow.

"Has it been multiple times?" Nesta inquired, the words sending a jolt of something down Eira's spine, and Feyre let out another snicker.

"At least two," Feyre told her.

Eira made another strangled sound into the pillow because her sisters were not having this conversation. She was not having this conversation. This couldn't be happening.

“And have you done anything else?” Feyre asked her, her voice sounding amused, and Eira's head jerked up from the pillow almost comically fast.

"W-what?! N-no, of course not," she sputtered, her eyes wide and the blush on her cheeks very, very red.

"We aren't in the human lands," Feyre said with a shrug. "If two want more...well, then that's something that's between the two of you."

Maybe that was like it was in Prythian...but it wasn't ...it wasn't what Eira had...what Eira had...She had always been....she had always...Some things belonged in the marriage bed.

Some things were supposed to be between a wife and her husband.

"We-" Eira protested, sputtering for words again and trying to say something, anything, to distract them from the path this conversation was going, but found her brain entirely empty.

She had been taught...

"I...I-" she tried again, but her tongue would not make it past the lump forming in her throat. There were rules. There were rules for this.

"We aren't married," she whispered. They weren't married.

Those words went through her like thunder, making her swallow heavily. If they hadn't been married...well it meant that...it meant that everything that she had been taught growing up was...

That they were...they were allowed to...to do more than...

A shudder went through her at the implications of that realization, and Feyre's eyes were on her carefully, quietly studying her expression.

She had always been taught...she had been taught that everything that could be done with a man belonged in the marriage bed. That it was...impure to...to want to do such things.

"You don't have to do anything," Feyre told her quickly. "Azriel would never force you, you know that, right?"

"Yeah," Eira mumbled, and it came out more weakly than she would have liked. Because she did know that. She knew that, logically.

But a small part of her...a small part of her that had grown up being taught these things was...was terrified.

"What are you worried about?" Nesta asked her suddenly, and Eira's head jerked to her.

"W-what?" she stuttered again, and Nesta raised an eyebrow at her. "You clearly have something on your mind," she said evenly. "Something that has you terrified. What are you worried about?"

"I...I..." Eira mumbled, and her face burned red again. There was no way in hell she was telling them that. "It's nothing," she mumbled, but neither of her sisters looked convinced.

"Liar," Nesta said bluntly, and Eira flinched.

"That's not true, I'm-" she protested weakly, but her voice cut out when Nesta frowned at her. Oh, Gods "I'm...I'm just...worried that....I want...I don't-...What if he doesn't want me like that?" she suddenly stuttered and pressed her face again into the pillow.

There was a beat of stunned silence after she spoke, and suddenly Feyre snorted.

"Oh, you have no idea how much that male wants you," she said, a wicked grin on her lips.

"He would kill to have you," Nesta agreed, and Eira could practically hear the smirk in her voice "But only when you're ready, of course"

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #Azriel x Archeron!Reader #the prophecy #Looked to the sky

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lowrisemiller · 1 month ago

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a smutty fic idea has been in my head forever and i can’t seem to get it out right. i imagine a bratty maybe slightly alternative reader and old man Joel taming them but that’s IT. idk how they know each other or any other details so there’s a lot of room for creativity. i’ve just never read a joel fic like that and i love your writing 🖤

- and maybe tights/fishnets are involved

fishnets

masterlist | 1k words | old man joel! x fem!reader | age-gap not specified but legal, making out, somewhat public sex, bathroom sex, unprotected piv, praise and a lil degrading, & spanking like one time | p!std mention (sue me)

hopefully you don’t find this cringe and hate it bc i LOVE alternative music and the people in the community (didn’t know what else to call it) and i love everything abt it so enjoy I hope you like it! ty for requesting

-sweetgirl out

Tommy’s already vanished into the crowd, probably halfway through a bad cover of I Write Sins Not Tragedies by now. Joel stays planted at the bar, jaw clenched, sipping his whiskey like it’s the only real thing in the room. Emo night, Tommy said. Something different, he said. Joel should’ve known better.

He’s about to head for the door when you slide into view—more like slink. All legs and attitude, fishnets ripped, skirt too short, eyeliner winged like a weapon. You hop up on the stool beside him, clearly enjoying how much space you take up in his peripheral vision.

“You don’t fit in here,” you chirp, like you’re pointing out the sky’s blue.

Joel side-eyes you. “Don’t care.”

“That flannel’s screaming ‘divorced dad energy.’” You tilt your head. “And I mean that in the hottest way possible.”

His brow twitches.

You lean in, smiling like a cat who found something sharp to play with. “You’re not like the others here. You’re too… serious. All frown and no fun.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me,” he mutters.

“Then tell me,” you challenge, eyes sparkling. “Or are you just gonna keep pretending you haven’t been looking at my legs for the past ten minutes?”

His nostrils flare. One heartbeat. Two.

Then Joel sets his glass down and turns his body to face you completely, gaze raking down your form like he’s finally done pretending. He talks low, slow. Controlled.

“You talk too much.”

“And you wanna shut me up?” you purr.

“You got a filthy mouth for someone so damn eager to be put in her place.”

You blink, inhale—like that struck something deep. “Try me.”

Joel huffs once, more exasperated than amused, then grabs your wrist. You gasp at the firmness of it, the quiet dominance he exudes without even raising his voice.

He tugs you off the stool, guiding you past sticky floors and flickering neon signs. You follow, breath quickening. No hesitation. Just anticipation.

The bathroom door slams behind you both. Fluorescent lighting buzzes overhead. Joel backs you into the counter like he’s done this before, like he owns every room he walks into.

“You really want this?” he asks, voice dark and low.

You nod, biting your lip. “What gave it away?”

Joel hooks a finger through the waistband of your fishnets, tugging until the elastic bites into your skin. “These.” He yanks them slightly lower, watching the stretch and snap. “You wore these hopin’ someone’d ruin you.”

You make a small, breathy sound—something between a laugh and a moan. “I wore them hoping someone wouldn’t be scared to.”

Joel’s had enough.

He spins you to face the mirror, one hand pressing between your shoulder blades, arching your back. The other trails down your thigh, rough fingers dragging along the shredded mesh until he finds bare skin.

“Such a fuckin’ brat,” he growls. “Bet you’re soaked already.”

You whimper—because you are.

Joel catches your gaze in the mirror, his eyes all heat and restraint. “Look at you. So desperate for someone to take control.”

“I want you to,” you whisper.

He inhales like he’s been holding back for years. “Then you better be good. Or I’ll keep you on edge all night and leave you wanting.”

You smirk, pushing back against him, deliberately grinding. “You say that like I wouldn’t love it.”

Joel groans low, unbuckling his belt with one hand, the sound sharp in the echoing bathroom. “Jesus Christ. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

But he doesn’t stop.

And neither do you.

Joel fists your hair and tilts your head, forcing your gaze back to the mirror. “Keep lookin’,” he mutters, voice gravel and grit. “Wanna see what you look like when you finally shut up.”

You whimper, but obey—eyes locking with his in the glass. He’s already unzipped his jeans, hand wrapped around himself, thick and hard, teasing your ass as he presses in close.

You’re soaked, and he knows it. Fingers slide between your thighs to test you, and he groans.

“Fuck. Drippin’ already. You that needy, huh?”

You smirk, breath hitching. “Told you. Didn’t come here for drinks.”

He gives your ass a hard slap—just enough to sting.

“Smart mouth again,” he growls. “Guess I didn’t slap it out of you yet.”

You gasp, legs trembling in those half-down fishnets, the rough scrape of the mesh on your skin making it worse—better. He leans over you, crowding your body with his, the heat of him burning through your spine.

Then—he sinks in.

One slow, deliberate thrust. Stretching you, filling you, splitting you open in the best fucking way. You bite your lip hard to keep from moaning too loud.

Joel hisses through his teeth. “So goddamn tight. Brat like you, dressed like a tease—never expected you to feel this good.”

Your hands grip the sink, knuckles white. “Maybe I’m just picky,” you pant.

He thrusts again, harder this time. You cry out.

“Still runnin’ that mouth?”

He pulls out nearly all the way, then slams back in. Your body jolts against the counter, breath knocked from your lungs. His hand wraps around your throat—not tight, just possessive, grounding—and your walls flutter around him at the sheer command of it.

“You’re gonna behave,” Joel growls, voice hot in your ear, “or I’ll edge you right here and leave you crying.”

You’re whining now, hips rocking back to meet him. “Then stop talkin’ and fuck me like you mean it.”

That does it.

Joel growls something primal and snaps his hips hard, dragging a raw, desperate moan from you. His rhythm turns punishing—deep, relentless, and perfect. The bathroom’s small, the walls echoing with skin-on-skin and the broken sounds falling from your lips.

“Yeah,” he pants, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. “That what you wanted? Huh? Big bad Joel to come in and fuck the brat outta you?”

You can’t speak—just nod, eyes rolling back. You’ve never been handled like this. Like he’s not afraid to take what he wants. Like he knows you need it rough, need someone who can put you in your place and still worship your body in every brutal thrust.

His fingers sneak between your thighs, finding your clit with practiced ease, rubbing tight little circles as he pounds into you. Your legs nearly give out.

“Gonna come for me?” he rasps, staring into the mirror. “Look at yourself. Such a mess already.”

You cry out, “Joel—fuck, I’m—”

“Good girl. That’s it. Come on my cock like you’re supposed to.”

You shatter with a scream, gripping the sink like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. Joel groans as your walls clamp down, hips stuttering as he fucks you through it.

He pulls out fast, hand stroking himself once—twice—and spills across the curve of your ass, hot and thick and filthy.

You both breathe hard for a moment. You’re trembling, used, absolutely wrecked in the best way.

Joel leans down, voice lower now. “Still got that attitude?”

You smirk at him in the mirror, smeared lipstick and all. “Maybe.”

He zips up, eyes still devouring you. “Good. I ain’t done with you yet.”

tags: @heavymetalhater @zevrra @xodilfluvr

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nazgulpridefest · 5 months ago

Text

Unnecessarily long rant post about various tcc related things

(selfships, ships, bad headcanons, columposers, "femcels")

I like actually hate tcc selfships so much, I don't care when people say freaky shit about tcc people cause most the time they're joking and I do it too. But like genuine selfships, like drawing themselves or an self insert or an oc with tcc people (what am I even supposed to call them)

Like I hate seeing those blogs where it's like "Dylan's little girl >.<" (extremely directed, you know who you are..). Or like drawing themselves with their favs (in a not joking way), even edits and "___ x oc/reader" fics. Theres another person on TikTok who makes edits of them x Andrew blaze, it makes me so mad cause I think im finding a cool edit and then I get flash banged with some randoms face.

Also I really don't care for the "well what if they're coping, this is a coping mechanism" argument like no, I don't care, cope some other way WITHOUT SHIPPING YOURSELF WITH KILLERS. Having a crush or intrest in a tcc person is okay but like genuinely shipping yourself with them is lowk kinda weird. Cause like I hate seeing people ship themselves with Eric or Dylan (in a serious sense, not a stupid funny haha) and they're everything Eric and Dylan hate. Like I hope you know they would've shot you if they knew about that

The selfshippers are usually so annoying too, like "ohemgee!!!! Don't say that abt Dylan he's mine!!1!1!1!" And then you get doxxed or some shit, like please go outside and touch some grass. Half the time they're greasy as hell or those "ohmigod I'm such a femcel lol!! >__<" just bcuz they're tcc and a female whose just a little different.

It's a little different with movie tcc people, like Andre and Cal because they are fictional and didn't actually shoot up a school. Even those ones are on thin ice, but I don't see as much of them luckily but I do see a lot of shitty Caldre.

Shitty Caldre as in Calvin is suddenly a AuDHD he/they shy femboy and Andre is a big tough guy whose actually secretly a big softie for cal and they go on little dates. Like no oh my god you clearly did not watch the movie, the only way I think of them as "dating" (using this VERY loosely) is them just being normal teenage boys, like when guys their age flirt because they're close friends. Sometimes a little bit of Caldre is okay but only when they're properly displayed the same way they are in the movie. Same with dylric, they were just close friends and had a distaste for gay people (from what I know) and I don't really know how to feel about dylric, but anytime I see one of those "Eric and Dylan kissing and being gay boyfriends >___<" posts I cry a little.

Plus the bad headcanons attached to both pairings, like I just wanna rip my hair out everytime I see one of those long headcanon posts and there's not a single good one, it's always like the "when they cuddle.." things. If I'm gonna take time out of my day to read a headcanon sheet it better be good, or bad fanfics like why am I even reading this. Sometimes bad fanfics are good but it's always the like 100-500 word ones that make me want to peel off the first layer of my skin, cause you can tell what kind of person is lurking behind that screen, it's probably some 11/12 year old that found out about zero day but never watched the movie. I feel like sometimes most people in the zero day fandom never watched the movie, also personal opinion I don't think that Andre self harms if I'm being so real here. Like I get where they're coming from with Cal but I don't get it with Andre.

I also don't like the people who dress like Cal and Andre, I own the shirts and sometimes I wear them but I never genuinely dress up as them, I usually wear them around my house, it's more of a "oh no I have no clean laundry" and I just have to wear it. But like people who go into full cosplay, like I saw someone genuinely buy a wig for it, like please ohmygyat. It just feels like seeing a columposer and I have a hatred for columposers, like tell me why you thought it was a good idea to leave your home in a wrath or natural selection shirt, like Columbine isn't underground, it was a real national tragedy.

Liking Columbine is fine as long as you aren't doing anything weird or harmful, but I feel like dressing as them puts you in both categories. But they always think they're so cool, it's always the most basic Columbine fans. They always listen to KMFDM or Rammstein and if they're trans (9 times out of 10 they usually are) they go by Dyl or Dylan. Plus they just take all of their personality from Eric and Dylan, it's always those intro posts that are like "name: Dylan music: KMFDM drink: Dr Pepper".

Please get a real personality oh my god 😢😢 cause I see like 20 people like that a day, please can we get some originality in this community. But the kind of columposers I hate the most is the ones that think they're the next Eric Harris, like calm down edge lord you're 14... they're manifestos always sound the same like "I hate everybody..... nobody understands me... they're all gonna feel my wrath... I'm gonna be worse than Eric and Dylan could ever be... mwhahahahah..." like shut up oh my god. You are not Eric's top guy bud, then they own a natural selection shirt and when they try to actually shoot up their school they just get caught cause it's always the people in private school trying to be the next Columbine. Like it's not my fault you live in the suburbs chill out.

It's so annoying to come on this app or look at the news and it another retard who thinks they're the second coming. And I have no shame admitting that I hate that Samantha chick, she honestly seemed so fucking annoying. And I hate the stupid "ERM... if you hate her you're misogynistic..." like what 😭. Just because she's a girl doesn't mean I'm a bad guy for hating her, I wasn't thinking about her gender when I decided I hated her ass. There's a new case every week, she's not special. She honestly was the worse thing I've heard about, everytime I hear about her I want to gouge my eyes out, she was just a supreme edge lord who thought she could be Eric. She thought she was so special for hating women like she wasn't a woman, like how fucking stupid are you, plus it's kinda pathetic how she only killed two people (all respect towards them) and then just killed herself, like oh my god at that point just kill yourself in your own house.

I also know the argument of Adam being a columposer is gonna come up, like "how are you gonna say you hate columposers but you worship one". Like yes I'm aware of the fact his shooting was "inspired" by columbine but he was also delusional as hell, like he was an autistic schizo that didn't leave his house. There was a lot more going into that shooting than just Columbine in mind, I don't really think of him as a columposer because it was a lot of psychological issues as well but I get where people are coming from when they say he's a columposer.

But still on the topic of Samantha and her being a woman hater, I just fucking hate femcels, not real femcels but "femcels >___< 🎀" LIKE OH MY GYAT. You aren't a femcel you delusional creep, you're just a female on tumblr get over it, you aren't special. Theyre all the same too, I feel like all femcel accounts are run by the same person. Theyre always some cutecore shit and have micro bangs, they all look the same.

Being a femcel or just an incel is just being frustrated with the lack of sexual or romantic opportunity in their life, that is the dictionary definition. You aren't a femcel if you bedrot, like Columbine, tcc in general, cutecore, hate women or men, if you're just delusional, or a Sematary fan. I feel like no one actually knows what being an incel or femcel means and it pisses me off so much because it's like saying the sky is green. Like you aren't a femcel, there's literally men in your dm's and you have a boyfriend shut up oh my god. It's just so infuriating seeing people being wrong all the time, I hate when I see false information.

It just makes me so mad and that's what most of this rant has been about, I hate seeing people be wrong like you're wrong because this tcc person would've hated you so much. You're wrong because that's not how these people were displayed in the movie. You're wrong because you're not gonna be the next Eric and Dylan. You're wrong because you're not a real femcel.

Sorry if this came off as annoying in anyway but I feel like i genuinely needed to get that off my chest cause im tired of it all.

#tc community #tcctwt #true cringe community #teeceecee #true crume #adam tcc #tcc fandom #tcc tumblr #tc #tcc columbine #eric columbine #eric and dylan #dylan columbine #lanzamaxxing #samantha rupnow #rant post

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serverusslaype · 2 years ago

Text

Shameless, pt. 12

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

hello fellow snape lovers, i have returned with another long part. i hope you are ready. <3 and i hope it lives up to your expectations.

all of your replies to my question about snape's patronus was really interesting! the majority thought it was either a raven, a bat or a falcon. a raven/falcon is quite fitting for him, i do agree. :) but the bat is just too cute tbh. 🥹 🦇

i just want to say hello to anyone new that has found this fic, you are very welcome here!! thank you for taking a chance on this! and thank you to the people who have been here since the beginning! :) appreciate you all so much. you're all way too kind. honestly. thank you <3

okay, so without further ado, let's get on with this!

okayyy lets go!

this song is best played when we look through Minerva McGonagall's perspective at dinner. :) or, you can listen to it throughout the whole fic or not at all it's up to you <3

Your mind was abuzz with the fresh memory of Severus's hands all over your body as you tiptoed back to your quarters at almost one o'clock in the morning, a giddy smile slipping onto your lips. You had to utilise every remaining ounce of strength within you to hold yourself back from skipping back to your room - the happiness that was bubbling inside of you was nothing like you'd ever felt before.

As you rounded the corner, a light was pooling out from beneath your door, and your body suddenly felt unbearably cold. You stopped in your tracks and the happy smile on your face disappeared within seconds. Ben must have woken up.

Swallowing, you padded forwards and adjusted your nightdress with nervous fingers to assure everything looked normal - or at least not like you'd just been ravished by none other than Severus Snape. A chill shivered over your body as his name lingered in your mind, tickling every inch of your skin. You had to force yourself to push him out of your brain for now, otherwise you were going to go insane. Reaching the door, your hand settled itself on the handle, but it wasn't opening it. You knew why - you were about to see Ben and lie to his face about where you'd been, pretending like you weren't just moaning the name of a man he hated with such a fiery passion.

There was that tingle between your legs again.

Before you were able to twist the knob of the door, it was pulled open, revealing the tired, worried face of the man you were supposedly dating. Your face instantly went as red as a tomato.

"Y/N? Where the hell did you go? Jesus- I've been so worried about you," Ben sighed heavily, his hand flying to your wrist to grasp it, a little too tightly. "You're insane to go wandering about at this time of night when Black is still at large!" His voice grew louder, piercing your ears. You winced slightly at the noise, shrinking.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep, I just needed to..." you trailed off, panicking for a moment, "walk."

"You should have woken me, I would've come with you." He said, widened eyes staring uncomfortably into yours. You started to feel a little bad about worrying him so much. His eyes seemed so tired, how long had he been awake for?

"I'm sorry," you repeated, tugging your wrist from him, "I'll wake you next time." You sighed quietly as Ben didn't let go of your wrist. "Ben, c'mon, I'm tired." His eyes trailed down to your bloodied finger as he raised your wrist up to his face.

"What happened to your finger?" He questioned, his tone low. The moisture in your mouth had suddenly vanished as your eyes flicked to his narrowed ones, your heart beginning to pick up in pace.

"I took a shortcut through some rose bushes," You lied. Almost immediately, the ripped hem of your nightdress came to mind. Shit, you totally forgot to fix that. "I even ripped the hem of my nightdress." You pouted, pointing at the damaged part of your clothing.

"No other way around it?" Ben laughed, his lips curling upwards. You weren't sure whether it was the paranoia kicking in or what, but to you, his laugh sounded like he didn't believe you.

"No, it would've taken me an extra five minutes or so." You said quietly, staring.

"That's funny," he shrugged, dropping your hand carelessly, "I don't remember there being any rose bushes at Hogwarts." His tone was accusatory, sharp, and cold. Your jaw stiffened.

"What, so you can remember every plant grown on the grounds here but you couldn't remember anything in Herbology class all those years ago?" You laughed back, your brows furrowing as you stared up at him.

He doesn't know, he can't... right? Gods, you really didn't have the energy for this if he did know. There was no way in hell you could handle an argument right now. Suddenly the idea of paying Severus a visit in the middle of the night was a terrible one. It's not like you were expecting to sleep with him, you just wanted to talk, however, one thing just led to another...

"Well..." He hummed, clearly caught up in your words. You were a little relieved, but you weren't out of the woodworks yet.

"I don't know if it was a rose bush or not, I just know it had thorns- ...it was too dark to see, really." You added with a soft tone, hoping it'd settle his racing mind.

"Alright." Ben sighed, evidently letting it go. You held back a sigh of relief, and instead smiled. "I'm just glad you're okay. My mind was conjuring up all sorts of... horrible things." He said, pulling you into a tight hug. You hugged him back, glad he didn't kiss you. The only lips you wanted on top of yours weren't his. "You won't be leaving my sight from now on."

"What?" You choked out, pulling away from him and placing a firm hand on his chest to push him back. Ben wrapped his fingers around your wrist again, pulling you into him.

"I have to keep you safe, Y/N." Ben frowned at you, confused at your sudden change of heart. Little did he know, your heart never changed, it had always been with someone else. You struggled with his tightening grip, wincing slightly as his fingers pinched you. You weren't exactly sure what to say in response, and so you stood there, dumbfounded and speechless. "I can't let Black hurt you."

"Dumbledore said he left. I'll be fine." You tried to persuade him into changing his mind, however he was persistent.

"I don't care what Dumbledore said." He snapped, a flicker of anger flashing across his eyes. You reeled back slightly, a little frightened from his outburst. "Now, let's go to bed, you said you were tired."

Speechless, you nodded, not wanting to push him further, you weren't exactly sure how he'd react. Maybe he was just overly tired. You hoped you'd only have to deal with this for a few more days, the way he was treating you was lower than low - he never acted like this back in school, the most he'd do was insult you playfully, but that was it. He only every caused mischief. Perhaps this Ministry job had gotten to his head...

"Sir," a shaky voice came from beside Snape, "I forgot the, erm, the..." The student trailed off, his voice suddenly retreating back inside his throat.

"Yes, Mr Harlem, spit it out..." Snape drawled, his eyes glued to the wall. Teaching a class of seventh-years was easier said than done - they were on the cusp of adulthood, and so navigating their hormonal and volatile attitudes was frustrating enough for the Potions Master.

"I forgot to get the a-asphodel root." Barnaby Harlem uttered, his body almost trembling from fear. An irritated huff fell from Snape. He thought incompetency had outgrown them, clearly, he was very wrong.

"How helpful, and," Professor Snape said flatly, turning to face the boy, "what a promising show of what's to come in your future, Mr Harlem." He finished with a scowl. "You are in your final year and yet, you are negligent enough to let a simple ingredient slip your little mind?"

"Well, it-"

"Silence," Snape huffed again, "I will go and retrieve it, I do not trust you to not go running off somewhere..." Honestly, it was just an excuse to go and see you. Harlem shrunk in his seat as the rest of the class tried to hide their amused faces behind their hands. Snape rolled his eyes at them, dramatically sweeping towards the door. "I expect half a parchment's worth of writing when I get back. Use what's left of your brains to turn to page one-hundred-and-forty-two and explain the other uses of the Draught of Living Death... in detail." Snape demanded, earning a deflated chorus of groans from the class.

"Mr Robinson, thirty points from Gryffindor for being such a whiny little rodent." Was the last thing Snape said as he left the room and made his journey to your greenhouses. Perhaps that was a little harsh, but that boy had been irritating him all morning.

Severus wasn't sure if you were going to be at your greenhouse, but it'd be a pleasant surprise if you were. If you weren't, he'd just leave a note, like you'd requested all that time ago.

Your heart almost fell out of your mouth as you caught sight of a tall, black figure stood patiently at your glass door. You were in the middle of teaching a class, with Ben sat at the back no less, observing, acting like your personal bodyguard. You had tried to persuade him- no, you tried to tell him that he didn't need to watch you teach, but the man was undoubtedly stubborn.

'It'll be fun to watch you work, anyway,' he'd said with a smug smile, brushing past you towards your greenhouse.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, panicking slightly. Did he really think it wise to visit you at such a time? The thrum in your chest began to speed up, blood rushing to your cheeks to paint them a gorgeous shade of scarlet. You quickly shook your head to entice your hair to fall forwards and act like a curtain to hide your blushing cheeks.

"Oh, Professor Snape, to what, erm, to what do I owe the pleasure?" You stumbled over your words slightly, coughing quietly - a pathetic attempt to hide your faltering voice. The corner of Severus's lip twitched slightly, thoroughly enjoying your flustered reaction. He absolutely adored how red your cheeks had become, in fact, he found himself thinking back to last night when he had you looking a similar way when his hands were caressing your smooth, delicious skin.

"Another student of mine forgot a rather significant ingredient for their potion, hence my presence, Professor L/N." Snape's cold tone had returned, nipping at you. The whole class had gone silent, either dumbstruck that the Potions Master was stood in their class, or the fact that there was a strange tension between the two of you.

"Oh, right," you stumbled again, "what do you need?"

"Asphodel root." He replied, casting a cold glance at your class as the eerie sensation of being watched crept up his spine. Instantly, they looked away, eyes wide and heads down.

"Brewing the Draught of Living Death again?" You made small talk, your voice returning to it's normal octave as you stood awkwardly.

"Indeed," He drawled boredly, his eyes catching sight of Ben sat in the back of your classroom, surrounded by big, green leafy plants. Snape kept his poker face on, and ignored the boy who was currently shooting daggers at him through his beady little eyes. He looked back to you. "Where might I find it?"

"Erm, beside... Mr Bluewater, just in those wooden cupboards." You replied, your voice quietening as you nodded towards Ben. A deep, frustrated sigh fell from Snape as he blinked slowly at you, evidently annoyed with the fact he had to go near Ben, let alone possibly talk to him. How was he acting so suavely? And you were this bumbling, stumbling mess?

Without another word, Snape sweeped to the back of the class to where Ben was sat, ignoring him. He didn't even utter a word to him as he bent down to open the doors, rummaging through it. That was until Ben decided to speak.

"You know, it's common courtesy to acknowledge someone," Ben muttered as you continued teaching the class, his eyes glued to you. Snape rose to his feet with the jar of asphodel root in hand. "But, I suppose someone like you lacks that certain aspect." He finished with a sour face.

"I prefer to acknowledge people who are of importance," Snape said flatly, towering over the boy, "and you, Mr Bluewater, regrettably do not fit those requirements." His tone was sharp and clipped, clearly not enjoying this interaction.

"You should watch your mouth, Snape." Ben warned, his eyes darting to Snape and narrowing into a weak glare. Snape's face remained unchanged and uneffected.

"Why? Would you dare assault a member of staff?" Snape taunted, suddenly realising that his presence was irking Ben more than usual. He couldn't miss this perfect opportunity.

"I might just." Ben replied swiftly. This was laughable, of course he wouldn't do that, Snape knew he wasn't stupid.

"The Ministry wouldn't be so forgiving if they heard you committed such a thing," Snape replied and linked his hands behind his back, his black cloak flowing over his arms, "in fact, I believe you'd lose your precious job."

"It'd be worth it." Ben hissed.

"Would it?" Snape tutted, his tone sarcastic and mocking, only infuriating Ben more.

"I'm the best at my job. They wouldn't fire me, they need me." Ben snapped, his irritation reaching a new level as he quarrelled with Snape.

"Is that why they've allowed you to be off-site, lingering around here at Hogwarts like a lost fly? Because you're so needed?" Snape smirked, relishing Ben's frustration. "I highly doubt they'd think well of you for abandoning your work to keep a concerningly close eye on your..." Snape's lips twitched into a grim, flat line, visibly struggling to say the next word. "...lady-friend." Ben's eyes narrowed at Snape, observing how he had trouble talking about you in such a way.

The boy stayed silent. He had nothing to reply back with - Snape had called his bluff, and he knew it. Meanwhile, as you were teaching, you'd been keeping an eye on the two men at the back of your class, quietly squabbling. Though, your eyes tended to linger on only one of them.

Snape spun on his heel, leaving Ben to boil in his anger. A smug smirk quickly crossed the Potion Master's face as he noticed your eyes stuck to him like a magnet. You rolled them and folded your arms against your chest as wiggled your jaw at him, clearly unhappy with how pleased he looked. He walked towards you, jar of asphodel root in hand and that same smirk still on his lips. You sucked in a sharp breath as he neared you, your heart entering that familiar fast pace everytime you were less than a metre away from him.

You could feel Ben's eyes burning into the pair of you, the overflowing jealousy and hate prickling your skin like a thousand needles.

"Thank you, Y/N." Severus said, his face dropping back into it's usual bored expression.

Ben was truly starting to despise how Snape looked at you, and how he acted towards you. He'd noticed how Snape wouldn't insult you nor try to tear you down, since that's usually his first choice when talking to someone - unless he respected them. You'd been here just over two years, and you were also one of his old students, so why and how had you gained his respect so quickly? It's not like you had any incredible achievements or skills that he could possibly fawn over. The thought pecked annoyingly at Ben's brain as he watched the two of you exchange words.

You cleared your throat, unfolding your arms and clasping your hands together in front of your hips. "It's my pleasure, Severus." You smiled politely at him, his eyes lingering on yours for a little too long. You swallowed, becoming flustered again, so you glanced away, your eyes catching sight of how Ben was almost exploding with rage.

Severus swept past you, purposefully brushing the edge of his arm against your shoulder, sending your mind into a clouded haze.

You had to fight with all of your might to compose yourself as a whole class of curious, prying eyes stared at you. It had almost slipped your mind that you were in the middle of teaching. You glanced over at Ben, whose fierce eyes were still trailing after Snape, even after he had left.

"Sorry for the interruption," you smiled at the children, sighing deeply, "so, dittany. Can anyone tell me the properties and uses of it?" There was several seconds of silence before a young brunette boy raised his hand hesitantly, clearly nervous. "Yes, Mr Thomas?"

"Erm," he swallowed, glancing around at his peers who were now staring at him expectantly, "i-it, well- dittany is very useful for healing." Almost immediately, he reminded you of Neville Longbottom.

A smile spread across your face as you nodded at the boy. "Yes, very good," you said, "and what can you use it for?"

"Um, potion-making," He stuttered for a moment, his face going red as you put him on the spot. "It can also be used in wand cores I think, and most importantly, healing magic?" Thomas answered you, his voice shooting up an octave as he finished his sentence.

"Yes, well done! Ten points to Hufflepuff!" You cheered with a wide grin, a swell of pride blooming in your chest. It was difficult not to be biased towards your own house... With a brief spin, you turned around to grab a stem of dittany that you had set aside for the lesson and twirled back around to the class to hold it up for them all to see. "This is the herb that we've been talking about. It's quite common-looking, although, you can easily identify it by carefully looking at it's small, round leaves." You explained, handing it to a student to look at. "Pass it around, have a look, and then we can begin talking about where to harvest it and how to care for it."

Before you knew it, the school day was over, and the clock was almost striking six o'clock in the evening. Ben had been smothering you all day, and you couldn't wait to escape him for a while to have dinner with your other bearable colleagues. Despite your irritation with him, you knew he was just doing it out of the good of his own heart - or so you thought, but it was becoming a little too much for you. It's not like you needed twenty-four-seven babysitting.

"I'm going to head down for dinner, will you be alright up here?" You asked Ben as you fixed your hair into a messy half-up-half-down style, pulling a few strands out at the top of your head to frame your face.

"You look pretty." Ben commented as he was sat back on your sofa, a book in hand. You turned around to face him slowly, a small smile gracing your lips.

"Thank you," You lifted a hand to smooth out your dress, rubbing off a bit of dust that had been sitting on it. "You have good taste, I suppose." You shrugged, your forced smile widening a bit as he relaxed into his normal self. Ben had bought you a deep red, floor length dress with a square neckline. The trumpet sleeves reached your wrists, drooping a little at the ends. You weren't the biggest fan of it, but you couldn't exactly say you hated a gift that he'd given you.

"That I do." Ben nodded smugly, standing up from the sofa to walk over to you in a slow manner. Ah, no you don't, you thought. You swallowed and arched an eyebrow, eyeing him cautiously. "You look great in my house colours." A smirk tickled his lips. You couldn't help but disagree with him, you thought you looked much better in yellow, and perhaps, another certain colour.

"Ben," you warned, holding out a flat palm, "I don't want to be late to dinner. And, I really don't want to ruin this dress."

"I can easily replace it." He shrugged, snaking his hands around your waist. Quickly, your hands flew to his to remove them, placing them back by his sides.

"I'm serious, Ben." You sighed, forcing a playful smile onto your lips, gazing up at him. "I'd like to keep my punctual reputation." A sour expression took hold of his features. You forgot how emotionally immature he was compared to Severus.

"Alright. But afterwards, I'm going to show you a good time." He smirked, and you had to hold back a cringe, instead opting to act like you were intrigued. Merlin, you missed how well-spoken Severus was.

"I'd love to, but I have a meeting with Professor Lupin right after. So I might be late back. Don't wait up for me." You explained, turning away from him to take another quick look in the mirror. This dress was doing you no favours. At. All.

It was a little ill-fitting, and the sleeves were drowning your hands, making it look as if you were some Wicked Witch of the West. Was Ben purposefully trying to make you look bad?

"Professor Lupin? Why?" He questioned, that curious, almost demanding tone returning. It made your skin crawl. You hoped he was going to leave soon, though you weren't sure of it. He seemed to be making himself at home here.

"He's going to be teaching me a self-defence spell." You replied nonchalantly, clasping your hands together in front of you.

"Self-defence? I can help you with that, what is it? I know almost all of them."

"I appreciate the thought, but Remus has a lot more experience in this kind of thing." You sighed, getting a little miffed with his attitude.

"Oh, right." Ben huffed, padding back over to the sofa and falling back into it with a loud thud; arms folded against his chest in a show of annoyance.

For once, you felt like yourself again as you walked down the corridors alone, heading towards the Great Hall. You gained a couple stares from students as you passed them, and you assumed it was because of your dress - it wasn't your usual taste, you usually opted for yellow, or earthy colours, and this deep red was definitely rather... out there. You didn't have a chance to say no either - Ben had made you wear it, which irked you a little. With him around, you felt like you had no say in anything.

You'd chosen the easier entrance - the little door behind the staff tables. You grew a little anxious at the thought of having to walk down that neverending hall.

As you clicked the door shut, Minerva looked in your direction, her brow arching up as she glanced at your dress, a tiny smirk gracing her lips. Your cheeks grew hot, as you noticed her smiling to herself, obviously finding amusement in your rather... different choice in clothing.

"This was Ben's choice in clothing, not mine." You grumbled, sliding past her and catching Hagrid's attention who was seated beside her like usual.

"I didn't say anything, my dear." Minerva couldn't hide her amusement any longer, a brief laugh slipped from her wrinked, mischievous lips.

"You didn't need to, your face already did," You sighed, glancing at Hagrid who's face had turned red as he stared at your outfit. "Evening, Hagrid..." Another grumble left you as you realised what kind of evening you were in for.

"Erm, evenin' Miss- I mean, Y/N." Hagrid stumbled over his words, evidently a little dumbstruck by what you were wearing. Gods, you truly wished you had a little more control, you would've just chosen a bloody bin bag over this disaster. "Lovely dress." He commented, swallowing awkwardly.

"Thanks, Hagrid." You sighed softly, a little smile picking at the corner of your lips. Hagrid was sweet but awkward, and that's something you adored about the half-giant.

Your eyes flicked away from Hagrid and settled on the shorter professor beside him, "Filius," you smiled again, a little glad that he had chosen not to comment on your dress.

"Good evening, Y/N." He returned your smile, though it seemed a little too... happy. You groaned, realising that, he too, was surprised at your dress.

"Alright, alright, get your laughs out now..." You huffed, sitting down in the empty chair which sat to the right of Dumbledore's.

"Oh, don't be silly, Y/N," Minerva frowned, although you could see another smile was begging to break out on her face again. "You look beautiful." You turned to her and made a face, huffing and puffing like an annoyed little child.

"Yeah, right, Minerva." You groaned, fiddling with the itching material.

"Do you own a mirror? Or perhaps, are you aware of what one is?" A deep voice sounded from beside you, making you jump in your seat. You whipped your head to see Severus stood with a smug face, his lips curling up into an amused smirk. "From what I can see, you do not."

"This," you gestured to your dress with frustrated hands, "wasn't my choice, it was Ben's..." You grumbled once more, turning away from him with folded arms, clearly bothered by his comment. Severus took the empty seat beside you, unable to contain his amusement.

"This might be the only time that I find Bluewater entertaining." Severus said, leaning back in his chair.

"Shut up."

"Perhaps I'd listen to you if you weren't dressed like the villain of a fairytale." Severus quipped, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. You hated how your cheeks instantly warmed at the sound. "Where on Earth did he find such a... revolting garment? The colour alone is ghastly."

"I dunno." You sunk into your chair, folding your arms against your chest, evidently rather miffed with the teasing. Severus couldn't help himself, you looked so cute when you were annoyed.

"I wouldn't put it past him for knowing all the worst clothing shops." Severus sneered, taking another reluctant glance at your outfit. You groaned again, placing your head in your hands regrettably. Suddenly, a hot, ticklish sensation bristled against your neck and it made your hairs stand on end, "I must say," he whispered into your ear, "you look much prettier in green." Your breath hitched, and you nudged his knee with your own, silently chastising his risky action.

"Of course you'd think that." You whispered back, blushing. As he leant away, a tiny hint of a smile teased your lips.

"Obviously." Severus smirked, keeping his eyes glued in front of him.

There was several seconds of silence before you chose to talk, your curiosity getting the better of you as you thought back to the interaction between Ben and Severus during your lesson. "What were you and Ben talking about at the back of my class earlier today?"

"Bluewater's arrogance got the best of him." Severus simply said, his brow twitching upwards.

"Yeah," you hummed, nodding, "that makes sense, I suppose." An exhausted, quiet sigh fell from your nose. Severus caught wind of it and turned towards you with furrowed brows.

"Does he act like that with you?"

"No- well, yes, but no," You sighed again, sitting up in your seat as you stumbled over your words. "When I came back from... seeing... you, he was awake-"

"Did he hurt you?" Severus interrupted you as quick as lightning, his face thunderous as his head snapped to face yours, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Merlin, if that little weasel hurt you, only God could save him now.

"No- he was just a little..." You shook your head, your fingers absentmindedly slipping to the wrist that Ben had gripped tightly.

"A little what?" Severus's eyes fell to where your fingers were, growing worried.

"Rough." You shrugged, swallowing.

"...Rough?" Severus repeated, spitting the word out like he'd just tasted poison.

"It's nothing, honestly, he hasn't done it since." You glanced up at the Potions Master, who looked absolutely furious. In fact, it looked like he could kill someone right then and there.

"If he laid a hand on you, Y/N, I don't think it's 'nothing'." His voice was deep, serious. The care he expressed for you made your skin feel a little hot, even though the situation was a bit inappropriate.

"He didn't, I swear, he just... grabbed my wrist a little harshly, that's it." You replied, your eyes flicking between his that were quickly filling with fury.

"If he hurts you, you will tell me." Severus said quietly, though his tone was still rather solid and serious. "I loathe the fact that I can't keep you from harm whilst Bluewater's still.. lolling around like some blithering idiot." He added, whispering. That familiar warmth bloomed in your chest again, and you couldn't fight the smile that danced onto your face.

"Like I said, once he leaves Hogwarts, I'll end it. He's a little... unpredictable, you could say, at the moment." You sighed, your eyes falling to your lap where you fidgeted with your fingers underneath the table, your mind creeping back to the moments where Ben had acted a little strangely. "I don't want any drama to happen here, it's... I just don't."

A cool hand settled atop of your moving digits, and within seconds, you felt at ease. "If you need me to accompany you, I will." Severus muttered, his eyes returning to the tables of students that were quickly filling up. You didn't look up at him, afraid that someone might notice, and so you kept your eyes down, instead opting to trace your thumb against the back of his hand. This was a very intimate moment between the two of you, and you suddenly found yourself wishing it wasn't happening in the Great Hall, surrounded by your colleagues and students.

"I'm not sure that'd be a good idea," you hummed thoughtfully, "I don't think he'd take it well if he saw you with me. He hates you enough, I'm not sure he can hate you much more. It might just push him over the edge." You added with a soft chuckle, earning a gentle huff from the man beside you.

"How terrible," Severus said flatly, his tone soaked with sarcasm. The corner of your lip quirked up at his dry humour. "I don't doubt it would." He was silent again, evidently busy in that brilliant mind of his that you had grown to adore. "Even so, why did you choose to date such a delinquent?"

"Erm..." Your face flushed red again, and your thumb froze atop of his hand.

Little did you know, Minerva had been carefully observing the two of you. She sat on the far right corner of the long table, by the door you had entered through; her wrinkled eyes soft and admiring. A small, content smile crept onto her lips as she stared at you and Severus talking quietly amongst yourselves. Perhaps she was wrong about the two of you - maybe you were just what the other needed. She'd never seen Severus look so enamoured with someone, let alone happy. She'd noticed how his eyes twinkled brighter, how his words had become lighter, and how his previously gloomy energy had entirely shifted ever since you returned to Hogwarts.

Minerva wasn't going to stand in the way of Severus's happiness, God knows he needs it. Even though you hadn't been around for long, she had a fairly strong feeling that you were going to change him for the better, perhaps even forever. That's what she hoped at least, and the glowing smiles on your faces were concrete evidence of that. Now, she just hoped you'd see the same and end things with Ben. Had Minerva seen how you and Severus looked at and acted with one another, she would have felt like a fool for encouraging you to stay with Ben.

A creak sounded to the left of her, "Everythin' a'right?" Hagrid asked, leaning down to reach her ear. Minerva looked up at the professor and sighed gently, her shoulders relaxing as she glanced back to you and Severus, a warmth enveloping her heart as she saw his hand in your lap, gently holding your hand with such tenderness and care. She blinked rapidly as she continued to stare, a little taken aback at the unusual gesture from Severus. The older witch had never seen him do such a thing.

At that moment, she knew she was wrong. Merlin, she was so wrong. How could he hurt you when he held you so tenderly? There was more to this than just lust, and perhaps spontaneity. There was a much, much deeper side, and she could see it now. Severus cared for you, deeply. It was in his eyes, his actions, his body language. Everything was pointing to... love.

"Everything is wonderful, Hagrid." Minerva's smile widened as she finally tore her eyes away from the pair of you, letting them fall back onto Hagrid's inquisitive ones.

"Oh, well," Hagrid replied, smiling, "good, good." A pleasant chuckle rumbled in his huge chest. "Can't wait fer dinner." He added as a gurgle sounded from his rotund stomach. Rolling her eyes amusedly at Hagrid's words, Minerva cast one last glimpse at the two of you, her heart almost bursting with joy as she saw the faintest hint of a genuine smile on Severus's face. He was smiling.

Dinner couldn't have gone better for you. Forgetting about the whole awful dress ordeal, it went more than well. Currently, you were walking to Lupin's classroom, a thrilling concoction of excitement and anxiety swirling around inside of you.

"Remus?" You called out as you opened his classroom door, the creak of the old oak door echoing. There wasn't an answer. Your brows furrowed as you glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was seven o'clock in the evening, like you'd agreed. Perhaps he's running late, or... he forgot, you thought, a little pang shooting through your heart. You didn't see him at dinner either.

"Ah, Y/N, right on time!" Lupin's enthusiastic voice came from behind you and your whole body flinched. He could have at least made his presence known in a quieter way, you thought to yourself as you tried to calm your racing heart.

"Bloody hell!" Your shoulders tensed up as you spun around to face the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, exhaling through your nose. Lupin chuckled at you, obviously amused by your skittish reaction. "I thought you'd forgotten." You hummed, half-smiling at him. Lupin's brows furrowed at you.

"Now, why would I do that?" He tilted his head at you, scooching past you to slip into his room, flicking his wand to ignite some candles. You pursed your lips at his words, unsure, instead opting to shrug at him. Lupin offered you a kind smile and beckoned you to follow him up the short set of stairs to the adjoined office.

"So, you wish to learn how to produce a Patronus charm, correct?" Remus asked as he padded towards a brown chest, leaning against it with folded arms. You stopped short from him and nodded.

"Hopefully, yes," you chuckled, swallowing, "I'd rather not go through that whole... ordeal again." A nervous grin tugged at the corners of your lips as you fidgeted with your wand that rested comfortably in your hands.

"Before we begin, do you know what a Patronus is?" Remus questioned, raising his bushy brows at you, curious.

"Yes." You nodded, waiting patiently.

"Alright. I want you to think of a happy memory, a very happy one, at that, and picture it in your mind," Remus paused, leaning forwards a tad. "Close your eyes, and concentrate for me."

You closed your eyes and shuffled through your memories, a certain one of you and your childhood bestfriend sticking out. The two of you were running on a beach together, giggling your little heads off. You remembered how the wet sand felt between your toes as you sprinted across the shoreline with your friend, tickling the soles of your tiny feet; the way the salty wind whipped through your hair and filled your nose with the briny, tangy smell of the ocean.

"Hey! No fair!" You'd screamed at your friend, a bright and mischievous grin painted on your innocent face as they'd just tagged you in a game of 'It'.

A tiny smile picked at the corner of your lips as you reminisced.

"Allow yourself to explore your past," Remus said softly as he circled you, "Let the memory fill you up, then speak the incantation, 'Expecto Patronum'."

"Expecto Patronum." You repeated with closed eyes, focusing solely on your childhood memory.

"Very good." Remus commented. "Shall we?" He asked, prompting you to open your eyes. You gave him a confident nod, taking a deep breath. "Now, this is a boggart, it's not the real thing of course. I'd be a brainless fool to bring you a true dementor to practice on." Remus joked lightly. You huffed amusedly, feeling your heart start to hammer against your ribcage, anxiously anticipating Lupin to open the chest.

"Okay, I'm ready." You nodded once more, drawing your wand. With alert eyes, you watched as Remus opened it, a billowing cloud of dark fog spilling out of the chest as a dementor revealed itself; that same haunting rattling-like sucking nose emitting from it's mouth. Your breath hitched at the sight, and your legs went numb.

"Expecto Patronum!" You exclaimed, focusing intently on the memory in your mind. Your lungs heaved as you noticed nothing was appearing from your wand. With frightened eyes, you glanced at Remus as the dementor approached you, it's hands raising upwards as if to grab you. "Expecto Patronum!" You called out once more. Nothing happened. Remus quickly rushed in front of you and cast out his arms.

"Here!" He yelled, and you watched in awe as the dementor quickly transformed into a full moon, shrouded in clouds. "Riddikulus!" Remus chanted, flicking his wand at the boggart. You turned away from Lupin and let a quiet sigh of irritation slip from your lips. "You'll get there, Y/N. You're a strong witch." Lupin assured you, his voice confident. You heard the chest click shut behind you.

"Again." You simply said, inhaling deeply as you turned around, catching a surprised look on Lupin's face as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I want to do this. I don't care how long it takes." With balled fists, you felt your nails dig into your palms.

"I admire your determination," Remus smiled crookedly at you, nodding. "Alright, let's go. Ready?"

"Ready."

More than an hour - or so you thought - had passed, and you were still by Lupin's side, persisting relentlessly through each attempt at casting the charm. You knew it'd take a while, but you thought you would've been able to have gotten somewhat close. That just wasn't the case.

Again, you found yourself facing the boggart as it emerged from the chest engulfed in a dark, gritty-coloured fog, floating harrowingly towards you. That same forsaken noise echoed within the office once more, and you drew your wand, pointing it at the dementor, unyielding.

"Expecto Patronum!" You shouted, the grip on your wand tightening with every suffocating breath you took. Nothing happened. Again.

Without delay, Lupin flicked his wand and kicked the boggart back into the chest as you tried to catch your breath. It felt like you'd been in here for days, exhausting every inch of your trembling body.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, not everyone manages to produce a patronus on their first lesson." Lupin offered you a kind smile, his eyes gazing over your heaving frame. You shook your head at him, refusing to give up. "May I ask what you were thinking of? Maybe it wasn't powerful enough."

"It was a memory from, uh, my childhood- erm," You panted, standing up a little straighter. "I was playing a game with my best friend on the beach."

"Oh, Y/N, that's not nearly enough. You need a memory that evokes such a compelling... and-and passionate feeling within you, that it's almost... overwhelming." Lupin explained, stepping forwards, shoving his hands into his pockets lazily. You shut your eyes again, determined. Suddenly, the thought of Severus popped into your mind, and a small smile tickled your lips. You thought back to all the times you'd shared with him when you had been truly happy - only a certain, aching memory sticking out like a sore thumb.

You turned your attention back to the record player and let your fingers trace the beautiful grains and grooves of the wood; the pads of your index and middle finger ending up on his record collection. You let your nosiness kick in as you flicked through them, spotting some seventies rock bands, classical compilations, and... Frank Sinatra?

"Frank Sinatra?" You queried with a curious, amused smile, glancing at Severus over your shoulder. Butterflies exploded like storm in your stomach when you found him already staring at you, though the look on his face wasn't what you wanted. He looked a little miffed. "I like Frank Sinatra." You quickly added, wanting to avoid any sort of conflict. You glanced back to where your fingers where dipping into his record collection, a furious pink blush tinting your pale cheeks. As you slipped your hand away, the end of your finger caught the play button, and suddenly the room was filled with a dark, melancholic and slow rock song. Your eyes widened in panic as you tried frantically to turn it off, however, nothing was working.

"Leave it, I... like it." Came a voice from behind you, immediately halting you in your desperate, albeit poor attempts to pause it. Severus was still sat at his desk, but he was sat back now, a little more relaxed.

"It's nice," You commented quietly after a beat of silence, braving a look at Severus. His eyes were glued to his desk; the plate of turkey and vegetables pushed messily to the side. He seemed to be battling something. You swallowed thickly and sauntered over to him, your heels clacking against the brick floor. You stopped in front of him and held out your hand. "...Dance with me?" You asked, voice still quiet. The Potions Master looked up at you for several seconds, his harsh, dark eyes flicking to your open palm. Your heart was thumping so loud in your ears you were worried you wouldn't hear his answer.

Luckily for you, he didn't give you one. He just plainly accepted your hand, standing slowly, almost reluctantly. You backed away from his desk, one step at a time, his large, calloused and cold hand still in yours. You stopped in the middle of the room, gently pulling Severus closer to you. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked up to meet his cold gaze, placing his other hand on your hip. You began to sway side to side to the slow beat of the song, his fingers flinching slightly as you moved. Severus found himself lost in your eyes as you stared up at him. He wondered why someone like you had offered to dance with someone like him; it felt wrong almost, a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin, good and bad. As the chorus got going, a bright grin broke out on your face as Severus lifted his arm up to twirl you around, the skirt of your dress blooming outwards like a flower. His chest tightened as you stumbled slightly, your hand slipping onto his chest to steady yourself.

"Sorry." you muttered almost inaudibly, looking up at Snape through your lashes bashfully. He didn't reply, he only danced with you more, and you saw his the corner of his lips quirk up in a small, almost miniscule smile. Your heart fluttered at the sight and your smile was back on your face.

The two of you continued to dance carelessly to the song playing in the background, and any worries and anxieties had been long forgotten ever since the two of you touched palms. You found yourself getting lost in his eyes as Severus twirled you around again, a loud laugh leaving your lips as he brought you back towards him, his eyes half-lidded with admiration. You lifted your hand up this time and attempted to twirl Snape around. He almost fought against it, but the sad pout on your lips ultimately broke him, and so he let you twirl him around.

"Are you alright?" Lupin's voice had softened, fishing you from your deep memory. A tear had fallen from your eye as you opened them.

A gentle laugh fell from your lips as you suddenly became aware of the tears brimming your eyes. You lifted up a hand to quickly swipe them away, your cheeks flushing awkwardly. "Yes, sorry- I... it's just a very, erm, deep memory for me."

"I can see." Lupin smiled at you, gesturing to the tear rolling down your cheek. "I'm sure it will work." He assured you, his tone still soft. You could tell he was a little concerned for your welfare, but he didn't dare press you for answers. He knew how certain memories could evoke such intense emotions. "Ready, Professor L/N?"

"Ready as ever." You sighed shakily through your mouth, pointing your wand at the chest. Lupin nodded, and with a whoosh, he opened the chest once more, the echo of the Dementor's rattling lungs devouring your body whole. Your heart pounded as you stared fear straight in the face, only the memory of you and Severus keeping you grounded.

You inhaled and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!"

And suddenly, a blinding, blue-white twirling light formed an umbrella-like shape at the tip of your wand, and you gasped; an impossibly wide toothy-grin spreading across your face like a wildfire. You glanced at Lupin, whose eyes were shot wide, quite obviously in complete disbelief from what he had just witnessed. His mouth hung open as he stared at you, a matching grin reaching his mouth as you forced the boggart back into the chest, falling to the ground as the charm dissipated from the tip of your wand.

You were absolutely breathless - it felt as if someone had just punched you in the chest. "Oh my God," you giggled, panting as you sat on your hands and knees, "I did it! Holy shit- I did it, Remus!"

"Bloody brilliant! Well done, Y/N. Not many witches or wizards are capable of such a thing. You look to be a very promising one, definitely." Lupin grinned down at you, leaning on the top of the chest, fingers splayed out exhaustedly. "I think that's enough for this evening, you must be exhausted, my dear."

"Precisely that, Remus," You laughed breathlessly again, unable to contain the proud grin that wasn't disappearing from your mouth anytime soon. "Thank you. So much." Remus walked over to you and held out a hand to help you up, in which you happily took it and pulled yourself up, sighing as you reached your feet.

"It's my pleasure." He smiled at you, his hands returning to his pockets again. That seemed to be a signature pose of his. "Soon enough, you'll be able find out your corporeal patronus."

"My what?-" Your eyes widened slightly at the phrase, blinking cluelessly.

"Your corporeal patronus. It's the most powerful form of a patronus, it takes the shape of an animal that represents your character, and protects you- being able to fully drive dementors away." Lupin explained, wandering over to a desk and leaning against it casually.

"Do you know yours?" You asked curiously, watching as Lupin's eyes twitched nervously, glancing away from you.

"Yes." Lupin answered simply, a weak smile slipped onto his lips, silently indicating that he didn't want to talk about it further.

"Cool." You beamed at him, the corners of his lips curling up. Lupin was rather grateful that you didn't ask him anything else to do with his patronus, he was hiding enough as it was. The man really didn't need any extra stress.

"Very." Lupin replied with a nod. Your smile widened. "I think you'll sleep well tonight, that's for sure." He joked, earning a quiet chuckle from you.

"Honestly, I can't wait to get into bed. I'm exhausted." You laughed, running a tired hand through your hair, a few fingers getting caught within the knots of it. "Thanks for tonight, Remus, I just hope I can pull it off in the real situation." Another laugh fell from your mouth, though it felt more of a worried laugh than an amused one.

"Let's hope you don't ever need to use it." Lupin said to you, the creases beside his eyes wrinkling as he smiled at you with slumping shoulders.

"Night, Remus."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

Your walk back from Lupin's classroom was rather dull, and awfully cold. Your skin was rife with goosebumps as the chilly air ravaged your body, infiltrating every part of you. All you wanted to do was to get back to your warm, cosy bed. Your body shuddered pleasantly at the thought of being wrapped up in it, the soft and plump pillows engulfing your head, encouraging you to fall into a deep, dreamy sleep.

To be honest, you weren't even sure what time it was, but you knew it was rather late as the moon was shining brilliantly in the nightsky amongst the beauty of the sparkling stars. You halted yourself for a moment to admire it, and suddenly a sense of déjà vu sunk into your bones. A year ago, you'd been in the same place, staring up at the sky to admire the stars with a bag of Mandrake roots in hand. You were on the way to drop them off to Severus for the potion to save the students. That was the first time you and him had really spoken without a burning hatred for one another. There was no malice, instead it was civil for once, and if you remember correctly - you'd even cracked some jokes.

A faint smile crossed your features and you hummed to yourself as your eyes were still darting across the millions upon millions of stars dotted against the infinite black.

Severus.

You wondered if he was still awake. He most likely was, that man never slept, though, you wished he did. You knew you should get back to Ben, just to save face, however, the urge to go and see him was drowning you. The biting cold was devouring your body like a starving tiger at this point, but you still stood idly, stuck on the thought of paying the dungeon bat a visit. Gods, you really shouldn't. You don't exactly want to risk Ben becoming suspicious. The thought of him finding out and doing something regrettable loomed over you like a dark rain cloud, and it was growing heavier by the day. Ben wasn't exactly the think-before-you-speak type, and so you worried over what he might do if he found out you and Severus were secretly seeing each other.

Should you go and see Severus? He could settle your mind right now... No, no, no. You need to go back to your quarters. Ben's probably worrying about you again.

That familiar, heavy feeling of guilt began to rot your body again as your feet were glued to the ground, unmoving. You were truly stuck. What the hell do you do?

Part 13!

what do you think Y/N should do?! 🫣

i apologise if this was a boring chapter, i feel like not a lot happened... despite this i hope you enjoyed it! there will be more snape x reader interaction next chapter i promise ;(

let me know what you thought! and also let me know what you think Y/N should do! i'm excited to see your thoughts and replies, they always make me smile! <3 🤭

i hope you guys are having or have had a great day/night, and i hope you have a great day tomorrow. ALSO make sure you are staying hydrated and healthy guys! AND i hope you are getting enough sleep!! 🩵🤲🏼🩵

i feel like i said hope around 100 times 😂

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bbunivxrse · 1 year ago

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 2:34AM ‒ megumi fushiguro

pairing ‒ 21+megumi x f!reader contents ‒ College AU, alcohol consumption, gets a bit suggestive at one part but no smut, heartbroken megumi gets wasted asfff, a bit angsty word count ‒ 2.3k a/n ‒ a tad bit angsty fgjioejio wrote this at like 4am if you see mistakes no tf u didnt ??? - also making my posts more nice n pretty n aesthetic cuz i felt like it :3

Megumi Fushiguro sat alone on the couch at a party. he can’t recall why he was there or how many shots he had but everything was starting to get cloudy. girl after girl walking up to him, offering him drinks. he hates alcohol. he hates the taste, he hates the smell, he hates the feeling of it in his mouth and going down his throat, he hates being drunk and he hates being hungover, yet he continues accepting all their offers. the women were hot but none of them were you. maybe he thought if he drank enough he could forget the past, forget the guilt and move on from everything like he should’ve a long time ago. he thought if he got drunk enough the regretful thoughts of the past would go away and the thoughts of you along with it. then he could go on with his life. but the more he drank the more present it became and the more his reality began to shatter at the thought.

girl after girl came up to him, sat near him, sat beside him, sat on him, yet it was only you he could think about. he gladly took their drinks but could barely have a one sided conversation with them for a few minutes before shooing them away.

as the party went on it felt like the music got louder and the lights brighter. his head pounded and he felt nauseous. ‘what am i doing here.’ megumi sinks into the couch, trying to keep himself calm by taking deep breaths and grounding himself in reality. ‘i wanna go home.’ he takes out his phone and stares at his lock screen, it was pitch black with only the white text of the time and date showing. he remembers when it used to be a picture of you with the text showing how far away you were from him. a picture you had taken of yourself in the mirror and sent to him, moments later he had it saved and set it to his wallpaper. he remembers your reaction when you saw it, a bright smile on your face while he was a bit embarrassed to be caught doing something he considered a bit ‘obsessive.’

megumi is ripped from his thoughts as someone taps on his shoulder. “wanna have a drink with me..?” he looks up to a see a woman standing right in front of him, a bottle of wine in her hand. megumi wanted to say no, and he was about to, until he took a closer look. ‘she looks just like her’. no, she wasnt exactly the same, but she was similar. from the shape of her body to the way she did her makeup, the way she styled her hair, the jewelry she wore and the shy expression on her face. even the damn dress she wore was similar to the short, black, skin tight dress he had bought you. she was so similar, so familiar, but it still wasn’t you. “sure.”

megumi patted his lap for her to sit down. she handed him the entire bottle and the two of them shared until the bottle was finished. they chatted as they took swigs from the bottle of wine, and as the conversation went on megumi continued to realize that as similar as she seemed, she wasn’t you. it started to throw him off. she didn’t talk like you, she didn’t have the same favourite colour or have the same aspirations. she was still a stranger. she felt like you, looked like you, dressed like you, she almost was you. almost. “let’s go somewhere private.”

megumi pulls her off his lap and leads this mysterious women to a bedroom. this would be the first time he’s fucked another woman since getting with you, even though it’s been months since you left him. he hasn’t even looked at another woman until tonight. he closes the door to the bedroom, the mystery woman pulling him closer and putting her lips on his. ‘she doesn’t kiss like her.’ megumi is yet again reminded that as much as he wants this to be you and he’s willing to pretend it’s you, it’s not you. still, he allows her to unbotton his shirt as they make out and get into bed. she hiked up her dress for him, revealing her black laced panties. ‘her favourite set was red.’

megumi hovers over her, his eyes dead set on her panties making her a bit uncomfortable. ‘what am i doing?’ he questions himself, the headache starting to come back as the music that was previously bothering him can be heard from downstairs. “i need to go.”

“what?” megumi barely gives her a chance to speak before getting out of bed and heading out the door. she fixes herself up before following after him, but by the time she’s back to the party, he’s already gone.

megumi stumbles down the sidewalk, aimlessly walking into the night. the streetlights barely illuminate the sidewalk as he tried to keep himself upright. he finds himself at a dimly lit park, throwing himself onto a park bench. he groans as he takes out his phone, the bright light blinding him and making his skull splitting headache worse. the words on the screen are barely legible as he spends an embarrassing amount of time trying to find his contacts. he thinks about calling yuuji, but he knows he’s usually asleep by this time and keeps his phone on do not disturb at night. he scrolls to kugisaki and calls her instead. the phone rings for a bit, before he hears her groggy voice on the line. “hello..?”

“can you pick me up?” megumi barely pieces his sentence together “oh my god megumi, it’s 3AM! you shouldve left earlier. i’m going to bed, i have a class in the morning.”

“please, kugisaki. i can’t drive…” megumis words slur a bit “holy shit, you actually drank?? oh my god this isn’t what i meant when i told you to have some fun.”

“just pick me up. ill make it up to you.” megumi pleads over the phone, a desperate tone coming from his voice that she wasn't used to hearing even after knowing him for so many years

“yeah, whatever. where are you? actually, don’t fucking bother, you sound too wasted to figure that out. just send me your location.” megumi can hear his friend's bed sheets ruffling as she gets out of bed, which begins to fill him with a bit of guilt, even if she was the one who suggested he go to the party in the first place. eventually he figures out how to send kugisaki his location, patiently waiting for it to go through. “okay, i got it. ill be there soon, idiot.” she hangs up before he can say anything back.

megumi sits back on the hard bench, rethinking his night at the party. he wasn’t even hung over yet but he already regretted all of it. he had hoped that the music and the people and the alcohol would distract him, take his thoughts away from the past and finally live in the present but they only made him miss you more. if you were still with him he’d be in your room, laying in your bed napping whilst you studied for your next exam. the music wouldn’t be blasting in his ears and causing him a headache and instead would be soft lofi playing quietly from your speaker, which helped you study and helped him sleep. he wouldn’t have to try and imagine the girl he was talking to was you, it would’ve been you.

without thinking, megumi takes out his phone, opening up a locked folder. his face id unlocks the folder that held pictures and videos of you. he’s gone through everything multiple times and he wishes he could still take more and add them to his collection. he wishes you would still take pictures of your outfits and send them to him. he wishes his wallpaper was still his favourite picture of you.

tears begin to well in his eyes as he turns off his phone and stuffs it in his pocket, he can’t bring himself to look through that folder again. not in his current state. you’re already gone, he knows that, he’s been told that, you told him that. he knows he needs to move on and continue his life without you but you’ve been the only thing on his mind for months and the alcohol in his system certainly wasn’t helping.

megumi wipes his tears as he hears the car in front of him beep. pushing himself off the bench, he limps his way over to his friend’s car and gets in the back seat.

“jesus, i thought you didn’t like drinking.” usually his friend would laugh at him for things like this but this time her tone and the look on her face was more serious. “whatever.”

the car ride was abnormally silent and the odd tension in the air was prevalent. kugisaki dropped him off in front of the dorms, his roommate already waiting for him outside. “thanks.” is all megumi can say to his friend as he walks away from her car.

“you alright, megumi? did something happen while you were there?” yuuji takes a good look at his best friend. he knows it’s been rough since the break up, he’s seen all of it. he’s done what he can to help keep his mind off it, to help his friend move past it but clearly it’s all still there. he feels guilty for sending megumi to this party now. kugisaki suggested it but he was the one who really convinced him it’d be a good idea, but he should’ve thought it through a bit more. yuuji can see the puffiness of his eyes and it breaks his heart to see his normally stoic friend in such a state. he’s really tried everything to help but at this point he can’t do much anymore. “it’s okay man, forget about it.” he throws an arm around his friend to keep him stable, taking him back to their shared dorm. yuuji spends the night trying to distract his friend, getting him to sober up and eventually fall asleep.

sunlight spilling from the blinds shines on megumis face, waking him up. the moment he opens his eyes he’s met with painful pounding in his head. still, he manages to sit up, his headache getting worst every moment hes conscious. he makes his way to the living room, where his friend is already sitting on the couch. “hey.” he barely mumbles out before plopping himself on the other side of the couch. “you hungry?” his roommate waved back at him.

“no.” megumi gets himself comfortable on the couch, trying to distract from the overwhelming throbbing he’s feeling. suddenly his phone buzzes on the coffee table, where he apparently left it last night. picking it up, he had a slightly abnormal amount of notifications from kugisaki, both texts and calls.

[ 4 missed calls from kugisaki ]

[ kugisaki: did you text y/n? ]

[ kugisaki: megumi answer my call oml ]

his heart drops as he opens his phone and goes to messages, and there he sees it. three messages he had sent last night, all of which he doesn’t even recall. “sorry…” yuuji looks over at his roommate, seeing the colour from his face leave as he looks at the messages he had sent. “i tried to stop you but you were gonna beat the shit outta me when i took your phone...”

“it’s fine.. sorry.” megumi didn’t even want to read the messages he sent. he can see them, he can see that they went through, he can see that you haven’t read them, and he doesn’t want to read them either. he decides to turn off his phone and put it down, judging by kugisaki’s messages, you had already seen the messages and told her about them, just never actually opened them. ‘fuck.’

“hey, why don’t we just go out somewhere? To help you forget about it. let’s go watch a movie!” normally megumi isn’t the most excited about leaving his home and heading out. he prefers staying in his room, lounging on the couch or getting a good workout in at the gym, but today he feels more than ever that he needs to spend some time doing something else, distract himself from his sad, dull life. go out and have some actual fun, especially with his best friend. “sure,”

“I told you it’d be a good movie!” yuuji pokes at his friend’s arm.

“It was about an earthworm.” megumi playfully rolls his eyes as the two of them walk out of the theater. “It was more than that! Did you even watch the movie!?” the two of them continue to argue about the quality of the movie they had just seen on their way to the parking lot. megumi takes his phone out of his pocket to check his notifications and his heart drops for a second time that day. a name that hasn’t appeared on his lock screen in months, the name he’d been waiting to see there for so long. it was the only one in his contacts to have any sort of emoji or decoration to it, and he never changed it despite everything.

[ you: i mess you sofucjng much ]

[ you: pls so im sorry for everything ]

[ you: pleese baby pls talk to me ]

- Unread message -

[ y/n <3: come over, we’ll talk about it ]

megumi stares at the notification. it felt as if his heart skipped several beats. he opens the message and continues to stare. his fingers move on their own as he types a response and he doesn’t even think about it before hitting send.

[ you: on my way ]

omg can u guys tell im not good at coming up with endings :sob:

#megumi x reader #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #jjk x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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arriansarchive · 2 years ago

Text

Harry Potter/Male/Ravenclaw!Reader (smut)

Okay change from my stranger things/other works

I like harry Potter too, so I decided I would give it the good college try

Warnings: smut(?), horny people, uhhhh idioticy, idk if this is top sub or bottom dom reader but I hate bottom sub!reader so it's not that

I just wanna clarify that you and Harry are still friends in this, so he's all confused and shit

Eighth year shenanigans, but the battle never happened and everything's happy

Words: 1201

Summary: You seek out Harry after your quidditch game to fulfill some desires you've been harboring since practice that afternoon.

Harry was simply walking down the deserted hallways after finishing some herbology work, minding his own business, whenever he got pulled into an abandoned classroom abruptly.

There were no students close enough to him to hear the small scuffle between him and his capturer.

His arm was grabbed from inside the pitch black room, and he almost let out a strangled yelp if it wasn't for the hand that was on his mouth.

Harry wasn't frail, but he also wasn't strong or stocky, so it was easy for somebody even a little bigger than him to push him around. He was victim of a few pushes and pulls from people who didn't like him here or there, so he knew this for a fact.

Harry remembered that your quidditch game had ended a few moments ago and considered the fact that it might be one of your teammates pranking him with you.

You were the seeker on the Ravenclaw quidditch team; the star of all the games, and he knew you loved it.

You had been cocky since day one, and it's just gotten more prominent over the years. It wasn't insufferable to be around you or anything, but you were quite the handful sometimes.

Once he stumbled into the dark room, Harry pulled the hand off of his mouth.

"Who the hell just pulled me in here?" He asked.

A light flickered on, and he recognized your face almost immediately.

"Hush, Harry, and tell me if you'll help me get off." You quickly demanded, pulling him towards you with a desperate look.

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing, Y/N?" Harry had a puzzled expression.

"Tell me!" You shook him a little while your eyes basically bulged out of your head in anticipation.

Harry looked you up and down, his eyes widening as he realized what was happening when he looked at your crotch.

"Oh." He paused to rub at his neck. "I've never really thought about you like that, Y/N, but I suppose it wouldn't be too bad."

"Great!"

You had no hesitation while practically ripping Harry's uniform off, buttons flying this way and that. He gasped at the cold air that grazed his skin and began to pull your clothes off as well. He thought of the long conversation he's going to have to have with Miss McGonagall over his uniform.

"Right to the point, huh?" Harry teased and unzipped your fly.

You grunted whenever he grabbed and squeezed you softly. He put just enough pressure to shoot a stab of long awaited pleasure up your spine.

"I've been dying since quidditch practice this afternoon, and you have no idea how long I've waited for you to do this." You said.

Harry started sliding his hand up and down quickly. You let out a few strangled groans and bit your sleeve to keep your pleasure from going out your mouth.

He stopped for a second to pull out his wand with his free hand and cast a silencing charm, looking at you expectantly with a smirk.

"Fuck you." You exhaled and took your sleeve out of your mouth.

Harry put his wand away after seeing you look down at it with an annoyed expression. He found it amusing that you wanted him to touch you so much.

He looked at you almost lovingly; it kind of made you sick to your stomach. You had never thought of Harry that way until tonight either, but you usually act on impulse, and this is no different.

You tried to convince yourself in that moment that you were definitely not in love with Harry Potter, but you were failing miserably. The way his brown eyes looked into yours made your knees buckle.

You needed him. Badly.

"Shit, Harry." You panted. "Can you just jack me off already?"

He patted your shoulder with his non-dick-filled hand and chuckled shortly, making electricity shoot up in your stomach. "No."

Your eyebrows furrow and you tugged his hand off of you, turned, and pinned Harry against the wall. "What the hell do you mean no?" You inquired.

His look of confidence faltered to one of submission but quickly resolved itself back into determination.

He smiled sadistically and leaned into your ear. "You love me?" He asked.

You looked at him through your half lidded peripheral vision in confusion.

"If you do, then you will trust where I'm going with this, Y/N."

You huffed out a breath of annoyance at your dominance practically being stripped away, but right now you would do anything if it just meant you could cum.

He gently turned you back against the wall and took you in his hand again. You struggled back a groan as pre-cum leaked out of you.

Harry hummed a little as he circled ur tip a few times before getting down on his knees and put both hands around you.

"You're sure about this?" He asked.

You found it stupid that he was asking you this but see the beneficial side of it.

"Wasn't I the one who asked you to do this?"

"Y/N, sometimes your first opinion doesn't matter because you do things without thinking. I'm just asking."

You roll your eyes slightly until shutting them quickly at Harry shoving you down his throat swiftly.

You moan out into the quiet, desolate room, silencing charm shutting you out from the rest of the loud world.

You feel his throat constrict around you as he pulls on and off quickly. You felt Harry's cheeks hollow out and his tongue flick around your slit a few times before he pops off and smiles up at you.

"Where are you cumming?" He asked.

You looked down with a dumb expression on your face. "Where can I?"

"How about I show you?"

He puts his mouth back around you and rapidly slides up and down. You reach both of your hands down and tangle them in his hair.

You feel yourself pull him down further. He gags a little with what sounded like a small groan after he pulls off.

Your eyes gaze down to him, feeling guilty. "Are you okay?" You ask.

"Keep doing it." Harry pants with a smirk on his face.

You felt yourself twitch at his words and his sly tone. You couldn't help but feel a sinister smile grow into your face as you pushed him all the way back onto you.

Your hands guided his head across you harshly. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and he moaned around you.

The vibration almost did you in, but whenever you saw Harry's face looking up at you, it immediately pushed you over the edge.

You came down his throat, and he pulled off hurriedly, swallowing all of it.

He licked his lips and stood up. He was almost right in front of your face, so close that you could see all the individual colors in his eyes.

"Y/N, I have one last question." He said softly and cupped one of your cheeks in his hand.

You egged him on with a movement of your hand.

"Do you love me?"

"I think that's a little obvious, Harry."

#harry potter x male reader #harry potter #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you

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brooklynbedlam · 2 years ago

Text

Raw Violence

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: You’ve finally pushed Joel past his limits. When your anger gets the best of you, Joel’s there to put you back in your place.

Content Warning: no Y/N, smut (oral- m receiving, degradation, hair pulling, dubcon, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, choking, spitting (if you squint), rough sex, sex in the mud, basically porn what can i say), dom!Joel, enemies to enemies with benefits, language, knife (if you squint)

A/N: i’m kind of mortified that this came from my brain, but i feel like it would be a disservice to not share these thoughts. hehe. honestly though- i would let Joel do things to me that would make my grandma cry.

Word Count: 2800

18+ under the cut! Minors DNI!

You liked to be an easygoing person. You prided yourself in it, in fact. But even you have your limits. In all your years of life, only one person could bring out the very worst of you, the parts you didn’t even think you had in you. Joel Miller. Only he could have you muttering under your breath such hateful thoughts that your mother would have washed your mouth out for. Arrogant jackass. Stupid fucking old man. His haughty posture, his irritating smirk, the obnoxious southern drawl- all of it crept under your skin down to your nerves. Your eyes stare down at your boots as you walk through the mud, keeping the imaginary verbal assault to yourself. It’s only when you run right into him that you realize he’s talking to you.

You distance yourself with a few steps back. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut for the rest of the patrol?

Joel turns around with that infuriating grin, “who you talking to back there?” he asks in a mocking tone. “No one” you reply, unwilling to even attempt pleasantness. “No need to get all worked up sugar”. There he goes again- testing your patience beyond what is humanly possible. If looks could kill, he’d be cold in the ground. You push him aside and keep moving forward down the trail. Joel chuckles and follows close behind unbothered. “What stick’s up your ass?” he jokes. You turn on your heels, index finger pushing right on his chest. “YOU,” you shout “are my problem”.

You somehow manage to stop yourself there. Your self-control amazes even him. More than anything you’d love to rip his ego to pieces and wipe that stupid smirk clean off his face. Joel takes a small step back, “Well, it’s clear this ain’t gonna be a pleasant conversation so why don’t you calm down and not say anything you might regret”. WOW. Where do you even start? Telling you to calm down or telling you not to say something you’ll regret? Now you swear your face must be bright red because you feel like you’re boiling, ready to blow. A dry chuckle leaves your lips as you mentally step off the edge and let your anger overtake everything. “Oh I’m sorry? Don’t want me to hurt your precious feelings there Joel?”. Your fists subconsciously clench with your jaw, knuckles going pale.

“Ain’t my feelings I’m worried about sweetheart. I’d rather be civilized with you but if you got another idea, fine. Do your worst”. Well, you heard him clearly, he was practically begging you to let every vile comment swirling around your brain out in the open. “You wouldn’t be able to handle the truth” you say confidently. Now that set something off in him. You see the change as his eyes go dark and his usual smirk turns into a threatening grimace. His posture makes you feel so small, but you keep your head high refusing to back down from this fight. “Oh yeah?” he growls, “You wanna run that by me again?”. Your entire nervous system is pleading to run, to apologize, and chalk it up to a bad night’s sleep. But you won’t, you can’t- not when it feels so good to finally let it all out.

“Gladly”. You push your chest out and straighten your posture, not nearly as tall but your eyes bore right into his. “You. Can’t. Handle. The. Truth”. Venom drips from your every word, you look for a sign that your words even landed because Joel stands unflinchingly. Almost like the words passed right through him, he refuses to break eye contact. “Oh, but I think I can. So go ahead: hit me with it. I dare you”. There’s a slight smile at the end of his sentence, a smile of that stupid arrogant confidence. He thinks he’s winning. You pause only for a moment to conjure up the cruelest thought you could dare speak. “Fine. Joel, you are the most insufferable prick I’ve ever met in my life. Every time I see you come around with that stupid goddamn smirk like you’re so high and mighty- I just wanna wipe that shit-eating grin off your face. You may think that every person in town is just so scared of you and your stories, but everyone sees you exactly for what you are- a coward”. For a moment Joel looks almost hurt, then he gets angry, real angry. The rage in his expression threatens to cause an explosion. Yet his voice is cold and controlled, an underlying danger in his tone. “That’s all huh? I’m guessing there’s more?” he replies stoically, his clenched jaw and wild eyes the only giveaways of what’s going on in his mind. Then a perfect addition comes to mind, something that will really bruise his ego.

“Yeah, there is. You’re such an asshole with your ridiculous sob story and how you drag that poor girl Ellie through hell just so you can play house again,” you barely even recognize yourself as the words leave your mouth but you keep going, now moving in even closer. “Frankly, I think you’re just a pathetic bastard”. For a moment you see the hate in his eyes, as if he’d like nothing more right now than to shoot you and leave you for the strays. And then, slowly, he lets out a low chuckle- a laugh that’s equal parts amusement, anger, and something else. When he finally speaks, his tone sounds…different. “You done?”. You can’t help but smirk and cross your arms, head high with a sense of victory. “I’m done”. A sense of pride settles in your chest, no witty remark from Joel this time. You’re completely caught off guard when he moves with deceptive speed, getting you in a lock with one hand, and a knife to your throat with the other. His face is inches from yours, a dark fury in his eyes. “You sure about that sweetheart? Nothin’ else you wanna get off your chest?”. His hand tightens around your throat, enough to feel the growing pressure. Joel burns with violent intensity, primal anger that seems to belong in the distant past; a threat, a warning, a promise.

With rapidly fading confidence you muster up another dig. “You don’t have the guts to stand your ground Miller, because you’re just an insecure little man”. Joel’s grip tightens another notch, impossibly close to cutting off your circulation altogether. A pathetic whimper leaves your mouth, betraying the little confidence you have left. He seems to notice the slight fear in your eyes and a smile pulls at his lips, “You really wanna bet?”. Your alarm bells are ringing, although it could just be your head pounding. Physically, he has you under his thumb. In a last-ditch effort to free yourself, you elbow Joel’s chest and break out of his grip. You quickly pull out your switchblade, evening the playing field. You notice a grin on his face. “Something funny Miller?”.

His hand grabs your wrist lightning fast and with brute force, sending the silver blade tumbling into the grass below. Joel looks unhurt, unflustered. “No, I just thought you’d put up a better fight”. Your grunts and squirming are to no avail as he effortlessly pins you into the tree behind you. One hand holds you down while his leg keeps you in place. Your breathing is heavy and you watch as his gaze lowers ever so slightly. You curse yourself for wearing a v-neck shirt, but especially for even getting yourself into this situation. A calloused hand slowly makes its way to your waist, gliding up the thin material of your shirt. His breath fans against your skin, “Give up?”.

Even though your heart is pounding, part of you finds it exhilarating. Your confidence returns if only just to satiate your curiosity. “Make me”. You bite down on Joel’s arm, hard enough for him to let go. He’s caught off guard and he pulls his arm back. You take the small window of opportunity to land a punch square in his jaw. Joel looks back unfazed as his hand brushes the stubble of his cheek. He laughs. It’s a cold, cold, calculating laugh, one that rings with the threat of death. Smiling down at you he looks amused, “You want me to make you?”. “I’d like to see you try”. Your brain is positively running on autopilot, replying out of pure instinct and void of any rational thinking. The hatred has now morphed into a strange blend of curiosity and something else that strikes you down to your core. You fight with every bone in your body to grapple with him, and though you are strong, it’s no match for Joel. In no time you’re down in the dirt, Joel pinning you down with his weight. He smiles and your heart sinks. It’s a terrifying smile with an undercurrent of unbridled violence. He doesn’t look hurt or even like he broke a sweat; he’s just as energetic as ever. The only difference now is the bulging weight you feel against your thigh. It sends electricity to your core as your mind runs wild. Joel moves his hand slowly down your chest, letting his rough hands relish the soft skin. His eyes lock on yours, and it’s a terrifying sight. He leans closer, and his voice is low, almost a whisper, yet it seeps into your very bones. “Say please”.

“No” You bark and focus all your energy on resisting the thoughts that are flooding into your mind. You know what he wants, what he’s asking. But you won’t let him win. “Final warning, sweetheart. I don’t play nice” he chuckles dryly, a feral bearing of teeth. At this point, all better judgment is out the window. There’s no backing out, your pride too fragile to do anything but stand your ground and make him regret ever existing. Joel is impossibly close, light breath fanning your face. Fuck it, you’ll fight dirty. You close in and kiss him with equal parts passion and hatred. His hands move to grip you, pawing anxiously at whatever skin his hands can find. With a rough grasp of your ass, you moan into the kiss before biting down on Joel’s lip just enough to draw blood. He smiles, pulling back with a small bead of crimson running down his lip. His face is ice cold, but you’re drawn to him. Attracted in a way that defies logic, explanation, or understanding. Your heart races, breath becoming heavier, you feel...strange. Like you want him, as if you need him, desire him. Your body and soul crave it even if blatantly disregarding your mind.

You bring a delicate hand to wipe a trace of his blood from your lip, and in an unexpected move you pull him down to your level and sit in his lap. Joel makes no effort to resist. That annoying grin on his face spurs you to grind into the rough denim of his pants, the dull friction sending shock waves up your spine. He does his best to hold back a groan but you can see it on his face just how much he’s enjoying this. You keep going, slowly building your orgasm to its peak. You’re so close. Blood rushes to your head and you feel electricity spark through your legs down to- fuck. Just as quick as it came along, your pleasure disintegrates under you. Joel has pinned your hips down against him, stopping all your movement. You whine at the loss of motion. Cheap move.

He pushes you from his lap and stands, his erection clear under the thick jeans. “I think you’re confused darlin. You think you just get whatever you want?” he scoffs. “I’ll tell you how this is gonna work,” he says in his smooth Texas drawl, “you are gonna do whatever I tell you and if you can behave yourself then maybe I’ll consider giving you what you like”. Your head is still reeling from your almost orgasm, but you’re coherent enough to hear his instruction. He grabs you by the arm pulling you to your knees. Thick, calloused fingers tilt your chin up and drop your mouth open. Joel looks down at you expectedly as his leather belt leaves its loops. You stare daggers at him but he only grins “be a good girl for once, or I could just tie you here and leave you for the stragglers”. With that, you stifle your pride and release his confined cock. You pathetically take him in your mouth and lazily swirl your tongue around the angry, leaking tip. That wasn’t enough. He thrust mercilessly into your throat as you struggled to breathe, gagging on his thick length. Joel’s lips parted with sinful growls as he guided your head. You were nothing more than a means to his end, he could care less about the air struggling to make it into your lungs or the saliva that dripped onto your chest.

He suddenly pulled out, hissing at the loss of contact. “Get on the ground and take off your clothes”. A simple request in itself but you stared unsure whether to comply or face the consequences. Deciding on the former, you look into those cold brown eyes while removing every article of clothing. Joel smirks as his hungry eyes wander your naked body, imagining what you’ll feel like, what kind of heavenly noises he could conjure out of you. He brings himself down the ground, approaching needily. You could still smell the coffee on his breath and the faint smell of his woodsy cologne as he hovered over. Your breath hitched at the sensation of his cock prying at your weeping hole. Without warning, he fully sheathed himself to the hilt. A shaky cry left your lips as you struggled to adjust to the size. Joel held himself still, composing himself, only for a moment before setting a violent pace. You braced yourself on all fours but soon found the force to be too much. Your arms weakened and buckled leaving you“You’ll do anything I say won’t you?” he looks down almost with pity. Brain rotted with pleasure, you stutter to make even a simple response. That answer doesn’t suffice. Not for Joel. A firm hand pulls at your hair, lifting your eyes to look right at him. “Answer me”. He grips your hips tighter, pushing you deeper into the mud. Your hands blindly search for an anchor, left to dig into the mud and branches underneath you for support. “Yes Joel!” you yell, using all your focus to get the words out. There is just a hint of cruelty at the center of the darkest, most dangerous eyes you’ve ever seen. But they’re on you, all for you. “You like that huh? You like what I’m givin’ ya?”.

Joel’s groans build as you watch the light brown strands of his hair mat to his forehead and his teeth grit. He wants more and more- an unbridled, raw, and ravenous hunger for you and you alone. And for once you see eye to eye. He’s all you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel. The cold mud underneath and ever-dimming sunlight aren’t even an afterthought. “Now tell me sweetheart, who would you do anything for?”. It’s like something else is controlling him; his own animalistic desire a creature all its own. A force of nature, the likes of which only the apocalypse could make a man. “You.....you.....you” comes out in pathetic whimpers. Tears prick at your eyes, it’s just too much. His hands grabbing at your skin, his thick cock burying deep inside you, the beautiful sounds coming from his mouth as he uses you. He notices and threatens “not yet”. Joel digs his fingers into the plush flesh of your hips as his relentless pace begins to falter. “Now come for me darlin'”. Relief floods your body as you finally get your release, crying out and clawing into the earth. Feeling you tense around his cock, Joel pushes himself to the brink with a merciless pace. Your name leaves his mouth like a primal chant, pulsing into you, letting you milk him for everything he’s got.

You’re left panting breathlessly in the cold air, skin warm with thousands of red hot nerve endings alight. “See, you’re a good girl when you stop using that head of yours”. For once, you don’t have a snarky response. Joel’s face meets yours just mere inches apart. He smiles, dark eyes black as pitch- burning, burning. With breaths just starting to settle he finally breaches the distance. It’s a surprisingly soft kiss, to juxtapose the violent, selfish acts that preceded it. But deep within it a hint of a deeper truth; something that's hidden for all this time.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #brooklynbedlam #open arms and open legs

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