#i hate it i hate everything about it i wanna rip my skin off when im around these people

[jackass-jones]

I just like. Don’t love my parents

[4unnyr0se]

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

[beautifulpaprika]

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. 

[thewickedjazzy]

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

[lustlovehart]

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.

[cressidagrey]

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"

[serverusslaype]

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]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 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:

[arriansarchive]

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."

[brooklynbedlam]

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.

[stardewstardropthoughts]

Hmmm... How would the bachelors react to F!Farmer going into labor/delivering their baby?

Ah man labour is a time and a half lol I’m gonna write this as like vag birth not c section just because it’ll be a bit easier to write that way, no hate on c sections obvi though, I had one lol. all births are valid! No birth discourse on my page please

Harvey:

He doesn’t like seeing you in pain

When labour first began he was timing the contractions and helping you walk around in-between or gently rocking with you back and forth, whatever you wanted

When they got to three to five minutes apart he’s helping you get to his office, offers you pain relief if you want it

Will have maru there to wipe sweat off your face, grab blankets, whatever you need

When it comes time to push he really wants to hold your hand but he also has to do his job has doctor and catch your child so maru more then likely holds your hand if you want her too

He’s sobbing when your baby’s born, a beautiful 8lb 10 oz baby girl with Harvey’s eyes and your hair colour

Lays her on your chest for skin to skin while you deliver the placenta and all but sobs at what a cute picture the two of you are, even if your hairs all matted down with sweat and your face is red from pushing

Loves his little family

Elliott:

It was probably like 1 in the morning and your water had just broken

You didn’t wanna panic your husband but also your literally in labour right now and there’s fluid all over the floor and your pants

You wake him up and he’s immediately out of the bed gathering the bags and making sure you have everything you need while you change into dry pants and a very thick pad

Man pretty much bangs Harvey’s door down

Harvey expected it though, being your primary care and all, offers you pain meds if you want them

You decide to get the epidural, Elliott almost gags watching since a needle in the spine doesn’t look comfy but god do you enjoy the pain relief

You get to have a few extra hours to nap while he paces nervously until it’s time to push

After about three hours of pushing you have a beautiful baby boy who weighs 7lb 5oz and has Elliott’s hair and eyes and your nose

Elliott could write a whole book on the emotions he’s feeling but he chooses to spend his time snuggling with you and your child

Alex:

Early on you decided you wanted a home birth so y’all have a dedicated room in the house for when it’s go time

Literally your water broke at the worst time, you were out weeding the fields dispite Alex desperately trying to get you to rest when suddenly there was a small gush of fluid going down your legs

Rip your overalls because now it looks like you peed your pants, you waddle your way back to the farmhouse and inform your husband who’s immediately drawing you a nice bath to wash the dirt off and clean up before having the baby

Calls Harvey while you’re in the bath and Harvey rushes over

Your on the bed in the birthing room currently trying to breath through contractions while Alex massages your back

He’s holding your hand while you push, he assured you he won’t be mad if you squeeze to tight or yell at him

After all is said and done you have a beautiful baby girl, weighing 9lbs 7oz (he was a big baby, you cursed at him a little while pushing out your daughter)

Sam:

Panic

Will offer to carry you to Harvey’s office (he will drop you accidentally, so you opt to walk lol)

Asking Harvey a million questions a minute, how many babies has he delivered, how much will it hurt, what do you think the baby’s eye color will be

You opt for pain meds and he passes out watching the epidural get placed

He wakes up a few minutes later to maru putting a cold cloth on his head lol, gets to sit in a chair and hold your hand while you push out the infant

You guys have a beautiful baby boy who weighs 6lbs 7oz, he’s small but he’s perfect and he has your hair and Sams eyes

Sams crying just a little bit while he cuts the umbilical cord, maru rats him out to you

Sebastian:

On the outside he’s very calm and collected while grabbing the baby bag, making sure your comfy for the trip to Harvey’s and making sure everything’s ready

On the inside? His brains screaming at him, panic and worry are a constant through the whole experience

He’s secretly glad maru is there to support him and you both even if it is just with wet cloths and breathing exercises

Harvey offers pain relief, you opt out cause needles in the spine sound absolutely terrifying to you

He’s rubbing your back, holding your hand, brushing your hair back out of your face, praising you for how well your doing

When the infant is born it’s a bit of a shock for you both since you end up with twins! Thank god for being over prepared and bringing like five different sets of clothes for baby

One beautiful baby boy who weighs 6lbs 1oz and one beautiful baby girl who weighs 5lbs 5oz, Sebastian is sobbing fully

Maru is calling robin to tell her to build a second crib lol

Shane:

Was probably half asleep when you woke him up to tell him your water broke and your in labour

Another home birth, you wanted a home water birth so he’s immediately up and filling the birthing pool while you call Harvey and waddle around getting undressed from the bottom down and into the pool of warm water

He will get in with you if you ask him to he doesn’t care how gross it’s gonna get, the only thing on his mind is how he can best support you through this

He’s rubbing your shoulders, your back, asking what he can do for you, if you need a drink or anything

When it comes time to push he’s holding your hand and helping you breath through it

You have a beautiful baby girl who weighs 7lbs 8oz and has Shane’s eyes and your hair

He’s smitten with her immediately and is sobbing over the little family you’ve created with him, he never thought he was worthy of any of this but now he’s here and he has it and it’s amazing to him

dresses her in a little onesie with cartoon chickens all over it, cannot wait to bring her around to meet everyone

[repairgirl]

michelle || leo valdez x fem!reader songfic

a/n: #2 in songfic series! song: michelle- sir chloe

t/w: alcohol, cursing, substance abuse, mention of vomitting, super smutty and super nsfw

word count: 1.2k

You swayed back and forth to the boom boom boom beat of the music, sipping the raw, bitter alcohol. Travis's party was just what you needed: shots, random boys you didn't care about to grind on and distract yourself with, getting blackout drunk, and basically anything to make you get your mind off of him.

Just thinking about his name made you want to vomit. You were reminded of walking in on him with that other, terrible, Nemesis girl, the half-assed breakup, never getting closure, and endless nights of sobbing and feeling sorry for yourself. Two weeks later, and his words were fresh in your mind like a fresh cut he had just re-opened yesterday. You drank more, feeling dizzy, praying the alcohol would numb your brain.

Fuck him, anyway. You'd show him you could do better. 

"Woah, calm down," a random boy said, approaching you. The darkness and flashing lights of the cabin made it hard to see his face, so you could barely make out his gleaming brown eyes and sepia skin. "You might wanna be careful with that much alcohol."

"You don't know what's best for me," you snapped, your words slurring. The bass pumped in your ears, making your head feel like it was going to explode. 

To your surprise, the boy laughed rather than acting offended. "Okay, I guess you're right. I shouldn't be talking, anyway. I just finished shotgunning this beer,” he answered, showing you his tattered-up Natty Lite can.

Lightheaded and unphased, you allowed yourself to plop on the tattered sofa, the boy crashing next to you. His breath smelled of beer and straight tequila, and you only imagined that yours did too.

"Why?" you asked, inching close to him. His hand rested on his thigh, barely grazing yours under your ripped denim shorts. 

"Why what?"

"Why do you drink? I mean, we all drink for a reason. We're either mad at someone else, or ourselves."

He paused, tapping his leg. 

When you got drunk, you got angry and philosophical. Mad at the world, hyperaware of everything wrong with everyone, the reason why many people couldn't handle you drunk. The reason you usually drank alone. 

The boy leaned back, resting his head against the seat. "I'm lonely. I'm fucking tired of being the seventh wheel, and always feeling like everyone's life is better than mine."

"Hey, I'm lonely too."

"You?" he asked. "Once everyone heard you were single again, they all wanted to get with you. Thought you would even be taken by now."

You scowled. You hated your reputation at camp: the pretty girl who everyone thought they could take advantage of just because she was from Aphrodite. You were tired of being treated like a sex object, especially by your ex, and you wanted to prove them all wrong. "That's exactly the point. All anyone ever wants me for is my body. But apparently even that wasn't good enough for... him."

The boy paused, almost looking sorrowful, and like he regretted saying anything. What was that look he was giving you? Pity? 

"He cheated? I'm sorry... That's rough."

"Yeah, but it's whatever. That's why I drink, anyway," you said, gulping down more of a Coors bottle someone handed you. He looked concerned. 

"You and me, we're opposites. I have to rely on my personality to get me anywhere. All my friends have amazing good looks to rely on.  I have to work for that shit, to even be slightly noticed."

The strobe light shined on him, and you could see his features more clearly this time. Unsure of whether it was you or the alcohol speaking, you noticed his chocolate brown hair, beautiful curls you wanted to pull. 

Most guys repulsed you, especially after the breakup. You wanted them to get their hands off of you, because no one felt right the way your ex did. But every move this boy made, every hungry look he gave you, all of that just made you want him more. He made you feel different. 

"Then we would fit together perfectly," you said, inching towards him. 

He moved his hand to your thigh, rubbing your leg with his thumb. The lights dimmed as the party entered its peak, and the sexual tension between you two increased. 

The boy inched oh-so-slightly to the left so that his hot breath was on your ear, close enough to bite it. "Maybe we would."

Agonizingly slowly, he put one hand on your waist and used another to cup your face. You stared into his eyes, mesmerized by his gaze, your ears and head buzzing from the alcohol. Finally, you both shared a drunken kiss. You didn't even think about what you were doing.

He gripped your waist, and you climbed on his lap. He bit your lip, then sloppily put his tongue in your mouth, not bothering to ask for permission to enter. You kissed back, your tongues swirling together, making out like you were running out of time, running away from the world, running away from your ex, running to each other. 

Once you slowly started grinding on him, he pulled away and whispered in your ear. "Let's take this to a room." 

Once you got to an empty room, the boy twirled you around and pressed me against the wall. He tightened his arms around your waist, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, having to stand on your tiptoes. You pressed your body as close to his as possible, sticking your knee in between his legs for extra friction. 

"Jump," he growled.

You did as you was told and jumped up so you were face to face, straddling him. He connected his lips with yours and squeezed your ass as he held you, making you moan into the kiss. 

You urgently ran your fingers through his hair, feeling his curly locks. You grinded into him, and he moaned into your mouth.

He set you down and pushed you onto the bed, never letting your lips disconnect. 

One you were on the bed, him towering over you and shoving his tongue in your mouth, he finally put his hands under your shirt, feeling and squeezing your tits. He grinded his member against you, and you shivered in delight, running your fingers over his well defined muscles. 

He started trailing kisses down to your neck, trying to find your sweet spot. Once he did, you let out a loud moan which you had been holding in, which of course only encouraged him to suck harder. Once he was done covering your neck in red spots, he pulled back, giving you that lopsided grin, then he finally hungrily kissed you again. 

Whatever you felt- buzzed because of the alcohol, eager to get a rebound to prove your ex wrong, or solely just sexual attraction, you knew it felt right.

He was taking off your shirt after already discarding his on the floor when you stopped him.

"Wait," you panted. "I don't even know your name."

"Leo. Leo Valdez," he responded, and as he did, you watched his lips, wishing they were back on yours. "You?"

"Y/N L/N."

Leo trailed kisses down your chest, seductivley looking up at you with hungry eyes.

"Y/N L/N, you are a monster from hell."

leo valdez taglist: @slytherindaughterofposeidon0​ @persephil​ @mmmelanie-blog1​ @blue-violin​ @goldengoddess​ @dee-zbignuts​ @animes-trash​ @nottherealslimshady​ @cellias​ @lovemss​

[ultralightpoe]

hear me out hear me out, tear you apart by she wants revenge. thinking very enemies to lovers hate fuckin kinda thing. obviously its really up to you but this song is very hot lol

Tear You Apart- Aemond Targaryen

Description: Aemond hates you and you hate him, but why did he feel so freaking good all the time

Authors Note: BUCKLE IN BITCHES! Also my requests are open for April, take a look at this post to see the request event and send some in! Happy April!

Warnings: Smut, adultery, fun fun fun

Word Count: 2924

Enjoy!

Got a big plan, this mindset maybe its right

At the right place and right time, maybe tonight

And the whisper or handshake sending a sign

Wanna make out and kiss hard, wait never mind

Alicent was punishing him. Not that she would ever admit to it, or he could ever prove, but it was just something he knew. Because there was absolutely no reason that you should be seated next to him as this gods forsaken dinner. 

Aemond had known you had entered the second his spine locked up, nervousness and anxiety racking through him as he risked a glance in your direction to see that you were already looking at him. You had walked in, a smarmy smile laced on your face, with your arm laced through your new husbands and a dazzling necklace across your neck. 

You squinted a bit at him before turning to whisper something in your husband's ear and Aemond found himself squeezing the goblet in his hand and trying his best not to sneer or rip his nephew's head off.  

You had chosen the bastard over him. How pathetic. So scared of your own emotions that you ran to the easiest target rather than facing the fucking truth. 

A smug feeling filled his chest at the thought of you moaning his name while in bed with his cowardly nephew, that feeling quickly being washed away by the sound of his mothers voice. “Lady Y/n, how radiant you look. Dare I say….glowing?”

His hand tightened across the goblet again, red blinding his sight before you answered with a small laugh. “Not yet, but not from lack of trying. I swear.”

Your voice was bragging and he tried not to laugh. As if his nephew could actually give you any form of pleasure. Not after you had Aemond.

“I do apologize for our seating arrangement, you are in between my two boys tonight for the meal.” Alicent smiles before passing you and moving to greet her old friend. You turn to Aemond and give him a polite smile before turning to Jacaerys and kissing his cheek. 

Before Aemond could remove himself from the table your husband was blocking his path, pulling out your chair for you and kissing your head, leaning down to mutter a soft “Remember the plan” before moving to his own side of the table. 

Aemond loses sight of him the second he is away from you, because he cannot seem to drag his eyes anywhere else. Gods, he hated you. Hated everything about you. From the perfect hair to the gorgeous eyes all the way to the natural way you seemed to win everyone over. Witch.

You move your head to make eye contact and the second you do his heart stops dead in his chest. It was annoying that you still had this power over him. 

“If you look any closer you might burn right through me….prince.” You smile, batting your eyelashes the way you always knew riled him up. It was like you enjoyed pissing him off. 

“Good. Last I checked we were supposed to burn the witches.” He replies, trying to keep a nonchalant attitude. He knew the second the smile laced your features that he was correct, you really did enjoy pissing him off. 

“Well since I am a witch I feel quite free to lie. By the way, your eye patch looks dashing tonight. Really brings out the purple of your eye.”

“Fuck you.”

“Maybe if you play nice with your nephews I’ll take pity on you.” 

He was so close to responding before everyone else took their seats and he was left in silence while you turned your attention to the king. Only you weren’t actually paying attention. 

You played it normal, and Aemond nearly jumped out of his skin when your hand met his under the table, a soft touch from your pinky onto his. 

He tears his hand away, turning to glare at you before you roll your own and lean back, a heat traveling across his skin when you wink. 

You were mocking him. He knew it. 

“Aemond, is it true that you and Lady Y/n grew up together?” Lord Stark asks, forcing Aemond to drag his eyes away from you. 

“Indeed. We had studies together.” You answer for him, smiling lightly as you leant forward to grab your goblet. 

“I taught her everything she knows.” Aemond says this as he looks to his nephew, that smug feeling returning again as his nephew sneers. That’s right, I made her cum long before you. 

When he glances back to you, the conversation moving away from him finally, you are already staring at him once again. This time your eyes are hooded, and he knows that you caught on to his jab. 

“I believe I taught you a few useful tricks myself.” You whisper, before turning away to talk to the person on your right. 

His entire body is aflame at the memories and a harsh anger rises in him. Of course you would do this, marry his nephew then rub it in his face. 

You had led him on. You had tore him up as though it was nothing.

Late night, and passing, mention it flipped her

Best friend, who knows saying maybe it slipped

But the slip turns to terror and a crush to light

When she walked in, he froze up, believe its the fright

You ignored his existence the rest of dinner, not that Aemond minded because he got many opportunities to glance at you this way. 

He watched the way you fixed your hair and the way your hand caresses the bodice of your dress when you bring it back down. He looks at the exposed part of your neck before his eyes catch on the pulse point. 

How easy it would be to just lean over and bite you the way he knows you like. How easy it would be to reach his hand up your skirt and- Your eyes cast to him before he can finish the thought and he soon realizes that everyone is staring at him.

“I apologize, I seem to have dazed off.” He rushes out, trying not to get embarrassed under your gaze. “I do not feel well, I believe I should return to my chambers.”

Before anyone could argue his request he is out of the chair, burning through the room and heading to his own chambers across the keep. It was uncomfortable to walk due to the aching hard on he now wore, and he was desperate to make it to his rooms to fix this problem.

He felt like a stupid fool. You probably barely thought of him, and here he was pining after you. Pining after the traitor.

By the time he pushes the door to his chambers his chest is heaving and every piece of him feels as though it is on fire.  Ragged breaths consumed him as his fingers worked to tear off his leathers. 

“Fuck.” He curses, when his finger snags on the leather of his riding pants, hopping out of his boots to hop on the bed. His back hits the cushion of it and he stares at the ceiling for a moment so he could calm down and focus.

He could not think about you. He hated you. You betrayed him and he hated you-

Before he could stop himself he reached down, a moan slipping from his lips as he touched himself, your face flashing in his mind. No no no. This was wrong and he hated you. 

But that didn’t stop him from sitting up, working himself faster as he imagined you above him, moaning to him just as you used to at the speed you liked- fuck Y/n. fuck fuck fu-

Y/n.

You were there. In the doorway with wide eyes and a blush on your cheeks as he stopped short, a ragged whine passing his lips when he realized. 

Its cute in a way, till you cannot speak

And you leave to have a cigarette, your knees get weak

An escape is just a nod and a casual wave

Obsessed about it, heavy for the next two days

“I wasn’t…” The lie begins to slip from his lips before he can stop it, but halfway through he realizes that he shouldn’t have to lie. You had seen him do this countless times, how was today different? 

You were married. And you shouldn’t be here.  “Leave.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, eyes welling up as you take a step back before you turn. Only you don’t leave, when your hand touches the door you risk a glance over your shoulder to where he is still sitting, still completely bare to you. “I’m sorry you hate me.”

“I’m not.” He sneers, face heating as your eyes track across his body. “You are a lying whore.”

“Indeed.”

“And you took everything I gave you and threw it away.”

“If that’s what you believe.”

You stared, unmoving, as he stood and walked closer. Everything in him screamed to pull you close and he was infuriated that even after all this time he still craved your touch. He still dreamt of having you in his sheets just as you used to. 

“You should leave.” He whispers, his chest meeting yours as he looks down on you, hands clenched at his sides to keep from grasping them in your hair like he wanted. 

“I should.” You reply, leaning your nose up to touch against his. The second your skin meets his he is gone, hands whipping up to your hair as he pulls you in for a rough and ragged kiss. 

It's only just a crush, it'll go away

It's just like all the others it'll go away

Or maybe this is danger and he just don't know

You pray it all away but it continues to grow

Maybe if he just got you out of his system it would be better. He could hate you from a distance after this and everything would be fine.  But the moment his lips touch your own he knows he is a goner. 

A warmth bleeds through his chest as you kiss back, your hands wrapping around to pull him closer by his back and he pushes you both forward until you are pressed against the door. A grunt pushes through him when his hands travel your body, lifting your skirt to touch the back of your thighs and help you hop up. 

Tearing yourself away to catch your breath gives him a moment to stare at you, the smug feeling returning once again. “Where is your husband?”

“Don’t ask.” You gasp, pulling him back in for another kiss. He stabilizes you both so you can reach and undo your corset, biting his lip harshly and making him groan out. 

“I hate you-” 

“I hate you more.” He enjoyed the way you gasped that out, allowing him to suck at your neck as both of you begin grinding into each other. “Aemond please-”

“Please what?”

I want to hold you close

Skin pressed against me tight

Lie still, and close your eyes girl

So lovely, it feels so right

“Aemond.” You try again, leaning to catch his head in your hands and pull him up to face you. “I’m so-”

“That’s not what I want to hear and you know it.” He seethes, pushing your skirt up higher. “I don’t want to hear your fake fucking apologies.”

And then the dam breaks and you are rushing forward to kiss him again, your teeth clash against each other and you bite down harshly before pulling back, eyes hooded. “Then fuck me. Fuck me like you hate me.”

I want to hold you close

Soft breasts, beating heart

As I whisper in your ear

I want to fucking tear you apart

He doesn’t waste any time, dragging you both to the bed and slamming you across the sheets, laying on top of you with a fire in his eyes and a smirk on his lips. “This is familiar.”

A small laugh tears from your throat when he grips your corset and tears it in half, growling a bit as he moves to your skirt. The sound of cloth ripping fills the room and you sit up quickly, snatching the eye patch off his face before he can fight it. 

A hand wraps around your wrist tightly, dragging the patch back. “No. I want to see you, Aemond.” You argue, keeping your arm tight as he grunts out before finally letting go. 

He can’t argue that,  nor can he argue the proud feeling he gets from those words, instead he crawls up your body until you are nose to nose. You smile at him and for a moment he can imagine himself back to the moments you used to have, before you were married off. 

“Breathe.” He whispers, just like he always had, before he is pushing himself into you. A groan escapes him at the same time you gasp out, hands scratching along his back as he fills you fully and for the first time in a long time he felt at home,

It disgusted him. 

“I hate you.”

“Then show me.” You laugh and he gives in. 

Then he walked up and told her, thinking that he'd passed

And they talked and looked away a lot, doing the dance

Her hand brushed up against his, she left it there

Told him how she felt and then they locked in a stare

The room filled with grunts and the heavy sound of skin slapping, Aemonds hands landing on the bed above both your shoulders to keep you trapped close to him as his hips snapped into you over and over. 

“You’re…..a….fucking whore-” He seethes, grunting louder as you moan out. “A fucking traitor.”

He laughs when you come undone, moving to lean down closer and press his nose to your cheek when you turn away. “I’m not done yet.”

They took a step back, thought about it, what should they do

'Cause there's always repercussions when you're dating in school

But their lips met, and reservations started to pass

Whether this was just an evening or a thing that would last

He takes you over and over, telling himself each time would be the last, but he couldn’t get enough. It was like a beast that had been let out of its cage and was ravaging anything it possibly could. 

By the time he had his fill, 5 rounds later when the sun began coming up, he let you sleep beside him as he kept you close. His hand laid on your thigh as you curled yourself up, breathing evenly as you dreamt. 

Just one more kiss and he would be good. He would be rid of this craving, he swears it. 

But when his lips touched your forehead very softly he closed his eyes and held them there, mentally begging himself to just get up and never touch you again. He hates you. 

“A traitorous whore.” You murmur, eyes still closed, and his eyebrows pop up in surprise. “That’s what you are thinking. I know it.”

“Am I wrong?”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

Either way he wanted her and this was bad

He wanted to do things to her it was making him crazy

Now a little crush turned into a like

And now he wants to grab her by the hair and tell her

You left the next morning in one of his tunics, with a limp in your step that had his heart beating quickly but he ignored it, holding a hand to his chest to try and stop it. 

When the door shuts he turns back to the bed, shoving his nose in the pillow you had slept and and imagined if you could stay, if you had married him instead. 

Pathetic.

I want to hold you close

Skin pressed against me tight

Lie still, and close your eyes girl

So lovely, it feels so right

The halls were filled with people cheering and wearing flower crowns, the courtyard filled with twice as much music. 

Aemond sat under the tree feeling sick and angry. 

They were celebrating you, or rather your child. The news had passed quickly that you had begun your labors in the early hours of the day, with Rhaenyra by your side and your ‘devoted husband’. 

“Brother!” Helaena calls, snapping him out of his moping. “Come!”

Ever the attentive brother he stands, moving to follow her through the halls as she holds her baby in her hands. She talks his ear off as they join their mother, her face pulled into a tight frown. 

The two ladies lead him to Rhaenyras chambers, where you are laid out on the bed with sweat covering your skin and a small bundle in your arms. Rhaenyra is giving you the widest smile he has ever seen his sister give and many people are congratulating Jahaerys. 

“Have you heard the good news?” A Lord asks, leaning in to whisper to Aemond. “Lady Y/n has delivered a Targaryen. White hair and all.”

Memories of your last night flash together, of Jahearys asking you about a plan and you showing up to his rooms. 

A wide smile covers his face when he looks up to find you already staring at him, a knowing and tired look on your own features. Oh, how he hated you. 

[okchijt]

Author's Note: Thank you so much Anon for the request! Sorry the request is a screenshot, I accidentally posted it cause of the stupid mobile update 😒 But anyway, this is such a cute idea! I'll be more than happy to do it for the little monster 😍 Just hope I didn't make him that OOC hopefully ^^' And lastly, go ahead and check out my masterlist if you like what you just read and if you want to request anything yourself, thank you, and enjoy! 🩷

His Little Stealer - Eric Cartman x Chubby!Reader Headcanons

🔴 The fact that you're close to his weight by being chubby makes Cartman unironically love you more. Being the only overweight kid who regularly gets picked on for it is still hurtful no matter how hard he tries to play it off or fight back. So having someone he can relate to with a similar body type is a plus in his book.

🔴 Also, just as Cartman always defends himself by saying: ''I'm not fat! I'm just big-boned!''. He would do the same thing for you and even throw hands if anyone ripped on you for being chubby. But to his surprise no one does so, why? Because you're an actual decent human being, others don't hate you and don't make fun of you. But if you act like Cartman then I take it all back.

🔴 But let's be real for a second, we all know Cartman sucks and he doesn't have the best track record when it comes to any relationship whatsoever. But as his partner I see him letting you get away with stuff he won't let others, and by that I mean everything. He'll let you do and say whatever you want and he'll bite down on his tongue just so that he doesn't accidentally say something wrong. Cartman is a horrible human being but for you? He'll try and become aware of how he should treat you right.

🔴 Back to the wholesome headcanons! I already said it, but I wanna add a little bit more to the idea. Cartman loves your chub, okay? He won't say it out loud ever though, not to you or in front of his ''friends'' cause he thinks it's embarrassing, but he'll make sure you know it with actions alone. Not only will he let you touch him without protesting, but he'll cuddle you too! You'll either be lying in bed together or on the couch with his arms wrapped around you as he grabs and fondles your excessive skin gently. It's just so soft and squishy, how can he not like it and hold it like his favorite plushy!? He'll act like he doesn't even know what you're talking about if you say anything about it, you'll know he loves doing it though cause he'll always be blushing red as he death glares the TV in embarrassment. One way to quickly gain back Cartman's attention though is by hand-feeding him Cheesy Poofs or anything really. His face will be redder than before and he still won't talk but he'll definitely pull you closer to him as he grumbles under his breath about how: ''weak'' this is. He actually means the opposite, trust me.

🔴 If you're someone that's insecure about their weight, Cartman totally gets it, he won't say it of course but he does. He'll make sure no one ever says a word about your weight by threatening them and depending on the person it might work. Of course no one regardless would ever say anything, but Cartman doesn't trust them so he still goes out of his way to do so. Also, if you decide to stop eating because of it, he will not let that slide one bit. He'll force you to eat himself and he won't take ''no'' for an answer unless you tell him that you're just dieting and being safe with it, then he'll begrudgingly respect it.

🔴 Now onto the stealing part, he both loves it and hates it. He thinks it's cute how his hat blocks all of your vision and his coat just kind of hangs on you, covering you entirely. It's almost enough to make him let out an audible ''awww'', almost. But at the same time, you're stealing his stuff! Now he's freezing his tits off as you embarrass him in front of his ''friends''! If you were anyone else he'd scream at you, but you're his partner so all he does is whine and cling to you as he tries to force you to give him his clothes back.

🔴 They ain't many opportunities for you to steal his hat and coat though, either grab it and run when he isn't wearing it or beg for it. You can only have an opportunity of stealing it when he's playing with his "friends" and he's being The Grand Wizard or The Coon. He'll immediately figure it out once he's done playing for the day and seeing his clothes go missing so prepare to witness an angry Cartman storming into your home demanding his stuff back only for you to make him stop in his tracks out of cuteness overload when seeing you wear his clothes.

🔴 Then there's begging, it can go either way actually. You can only win this by bribing him, doing something for him, getting him something he wants, or helping him accomplish something. Of course, knowing Cartman all of those things I've mentioned are 99% of the time requests to hurt the others around him and only satisfy him. Just because he loves you, doesn't mean he won't involve you in his schemes every now and then, it's like he wants to be partners in crime with you. Hoping that you're a decent person you obviously don't agree with any of it, so it leaves you no choice but to beg. Some puppy eyes with a promise of cuddling with snacks as you watch TV make him succumb almost instantly. He'll be all grumpy about it but he secretly loves it.

🔴 Overall, Cartman isn't vocal about how he feels about your weight in fear that he won't admit to that he'll accidentally hurt your feelings. Like I said he's trying to be better for you so he prefers to show how he feels with actions. He loves your body, he relates to you, and won't change a thing about you because you make him feel secure with his own weight despite what everybody else says. And again, with the stealing thing, it's a love-hate relationship for sure. Cartman doesn't like his stuff getting touched, let alone stolen so he does get annoyed at you for it, but then again it's you that does it so he can forgive it. Plus there's no denying he finds you absolutely adorable with his clothes on, the blush on his cheeks, the halt in his movement and the odd silence says it all!

[zentriii]

Dating your enemies sibling

SakuAtsu or OsaSuna (you decide cause I can’t lol)

sakuatsu it is :D

Kiyoomi stretches languidly on her bed. She’s got the day off today and finally has a moment for herself after finishing up her chores. All she wants to do is watch anime with her girlfriend until it’s time for lunch.

“Omi-chan!” Atsumu singsongs, walking out of her bathroom in nothing but shorts and a tank top. Kiyoomi pretends like she can’t see her tits through it and rolls onto her stomach with a groan. She’d rather stare shamelessly, but Atsumu’s ruthless with her teasing and they’ve already had to change her bedsheets once today.

Atsumu drops down and plasters herself over Kiyoomi’s back, undoubtedly pouting at Kiyoomi lack of affection.

“Ugh you’re all wet, did you even dry yourself off?” Kiyoomi wreathes under Atsumu, hoping that there isn’t an Atsumu-shaped water stain across her back.

“Course I did,” Atsumu squawks. “Sides I wanted to ask ya-”

“No.” Kiyoomi cuts her off. Atsumu’s been asking her for the same thing all day- impressive given that the day’s not even half over- but her answer isn’t changing. Kiyoomi does not want to go to Osamu’s housewarming party next week.

A part of her is proud that she was able to afford her own home, that Onigiri Miya’s become a successful chain. But every other part of her is still a first year university student and unable to process her embarrassment and let go of petty resentment.

If Kiyoomi doesn’t think about it, it doesn’t matter.

“Pleaseee,” Atsumu whines softly in her ear.

Kiyoomi flips them over and straddles Atsumu’s lap before Atsumu can clock how off kilter that left her. It’s a last ditch attempt of changing the topic, but she takes advantage of the towel Atsumu dropped on their bed and works it through her hair.

She tsks. Atsumu’s a filthy liar; her hair’s absolutely not been dried.

It’s painfully unfair how healthy it is with the way she takes care of her hair. Which is to say, Atsumu does not. Hasn’t even heard of the concept. Kiyoomi hates her a little for it. Atsumu won the genetic lottery with naturally thick hair and she doesn’t even know it.

Kiyoomi doesn’t realize when Atsumu wraps a hand around her waist until she squeezes gently. It’s an Atsumu-thing: fiddling with whatever’s in her hands. Kiyoomi wonders for a moment if there’s anyone else in the fucking world whose lap she could sit so comfortably in.

“Fine,” she sighs.

If Kiyoomi can’t go her whole life closing her eyes to everything she doesn’t like, she can at least hold Atsumu’s hand about it. Acquiescing isn’t so hard if she’s not alone.

“Really?” Atsumu perks up, light dancing in her eyes. Kiyoomi’s just a girl- how could she ever not feel like she’s at the top of the world with Atsumu looking at her like this?

Kiyoomi’s still Kiyoomi though, for better and for worse. She’s not throwing herself into the deep end without an out. “I’m not staying the whole time- you can if you want but I’m going to leave early.”

Atsumu’s got mischief in her eyes and Kiyoomi already know she’s already worked her way under the lines she just drew. “Then let’s go to Samu’s for lunch today.”

What.

Atsumu must read the disgust-slash-confusion off her face because she immediately goes to sell her point. “If ya don’t wanna come to dinner with everyone, we can just crash at her store. What’s she gonna do? Kick two payin’ customers out?

Kiyoomi wants to dig her nails under Atsumu’s skin and rip the smirk off her face. She’s been got and knowing her, Atsumu’s only gonna keep pushing.

They’re too similar for her to not.

She'd rather deal with Osamu without being in front of the rest of Atsumu's family though so Kiyoomi snorts, “You’re on being-a-menace duty.”

“That’s just my everyday babe,” Atsumu winks horribly. She looks ridiculous and Kiyoomi will never tell her that. She keeps her girlfriend’s goofiness close to her heart. It might be an open secret between their friends, but she’s the one who gets to see it everyday.

There’s only threads of hope that today won’t be a shitshow of petty and snide comments between her and Osamu but at least Atsumu can step in before they can go too far. That’s a hope Kiyoomi can count on at the very least.

“Alright, let’s go now.” Kiyoomi abandons her comfortable seat in favour of looting through Atsumu’s clothes for one of her hoodies.

Atsumu groans and flops onto her back dramatically. “Now?”

“Yes now. I don’t want to deal with the lunch rush that’ll come later. Get your lazy ass up.”

“Yer cruel so Omi-Omi,” Atsumu whines as she gets up anyways.

“Are you finally realizing?” Kiyoomi teases. Honestly they’re both horrible. It’s half of why they work.

Atsumu just laughs in her face.

Kiyoomi isn’t suddenly optimistic or anything, but she isn’t dreading going to Onigiri Miya’s as much. She can be mature about this.

[coriolanussnowslover]

The Ballad of Snakes, Songbirds, and Sorrow.

A Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader FanFiction.

He saw everything in her, so why is he so intrigued by her.

Word Count: 3,621.

*Reader is from a prestigious family in the capital. They have been best friends their whole lives and dating for years now. Cearo means Sorrow. Follows the film loosely, but as canon as possible.

*Warnings: Genral Hunger Games Canon Warnings. Death. Etc. Some Suggestive Themes. Possessive Behavior. Not Proof Read.

Masterlist

Part Two.

The Night after the Reaping

(Y/N) sat with Tirgirs and Grandma’am at the table while Coriolanus paced the dining room in front of her. She tapped her fingers against the table, the tips of them wrapped in gauze from Tirgirs when she arrived with the bloody raw skin picked off around her nails. She knew Coriolanus was having a meltdown about his tribute, sure most everyone was, but all she could think about was Wovey. She looked so small and sweet, reminding her so much of Wilby. She had already cried to Coryo in the back room of the academy while nervously snacked on whatever he grabbed off the buffet on their way out.

“You saw her. She's underfed, unstable.” “The dean said it's not just about winning.” “Everything is about winning! If not the games then the crowd!”

(Y/N) was tuning them out at this point, she knew Coryo needed to win this for their future. She was not about to let him lose everything he fought so desperately for to Highbottom’s distaste for his last name. They needed a spectacle. The capital loves anything showy and daring, and that they could work with. “I wouldn't sing a note for you if I was her.Imagine it was your name they pulled and you were ripped from your home! I’d just wanna know somebody still cared about me.” “She's district, Tigers. She knows we hate her, and she wants us dead.” “Don’t discount her just because she's district, Coryo. You might have more in common with her than you think.” (Y/N) watched the cousins discuss Lucy in front of her.

“Why don't we go meet them tomorrow at the train station Coryo?” They both turned to her, eyes the size of pancakes at her suggestion. “They get here tomorrow, why don't we go there, meet Lucy and Wovey. The Dean said we have to help them win over the capitol hearts, but so do we. What if we show the capital how caring and dedicated to our tributes we are. If we show them we feel something for them, they will too, boosting their incentive to watch the games. Plus we can show them we care about them, like Tirgris said. All I’d want is a friend.”

Coryo walked over to (Y/N) and planted a long kiss on her lips, his smile contagious. “You’re Brilliant (Y/N/N). That's my first lady of Panem.” He pulled her up and dragged her back to his bedroom, grin on his face. She loved when he called her his.

—

They waited hand in hand at the train station, both taking turns squeezing the other's hand in reassurance. Coriolanus had picked her up that morning, both clade in their academy uniforms. She had brought Wovey a scone and a small juice box wrapped in one of the many handkerchiefs her mom had given her years ago. He had a rose pinned to his coat, as did she, and one in his hand for Lucy, a peace offering.

They stood and watched as the tributes were taken off the train one by one, waiting to see their tributes. (Y/N) watched for Wovey as Coriolanus spotted Lucy, dragging (Y/N) by the hand over to her.

“Welcome to the Capitol.” Coryo extended his hand with the rose out to her, his eyes locked on Lucy Grey’s.

“When I was little my mother used to bathe me in buttermilk and rose petals.” (Y/N) watched as Lucy Grey plucked a petal from the rose and ate it. Eyes never breaking contact with Corilanus.

“Tastes like bedtime.” Her thick accent made her seem so kind. Even with the bizarre actions. “You two look like you shouldn't be here.” Lucy snickered a bit. We shouldn't be, (Y/N) thought.

Then (Y/N) spotted Wovey. Breaking her hold on Coriolanus’ hand to walk over to her.

“Hi Wovey!” (Y/N) knew her voice went up an octave, it always did around Wilby. “Welcome to the Capitol! I’m (Y/N) Cearo, your mentor!” Wovey looked at her inquisitively.

“Hello….” (Y/N) smiled at her even wider. She was smaller than Wilby height wise, big eyes looking up at (Y/N) with so much fear.

“Here, I brought this for you.” She crouched down to her height and held out the small package for Wovey, her eyes lighting up immediately at the colorful gift.

“What is it?” She looked between her and the package. “It's a snack, I know you probably haven't had anything since the reaping and so I packed you one of my brother’s favorites! And my boyfriend’s, the other boy in the red over there but don't tell him I said nothing.” She winked at the small girl as she took the little gift from her with a small laugh.

“I promise I won't.” Wovey clutched the snack to her chest, the older boy from eight nudging her along to the truck meant to take them to tribute holding. As Wovey and Lucy got into the truck (Y/N) saw Coriolanus trying to ask the peacekeepers if they could escort their tributes when all the sudden one of the boys ran off.

“Come on.” Coryo grabbed her hand and dragged her onto the back of the truck, both staying turned away from the guards.

“What’s a matter pretty boy, you in the wrong cage?” one of the male tributes taunted. Coryo instinctively pushed me behind him as he turned to look at the tribute addressing him.

“No, this cage is delightful.” Coriolanus tried to sound kind, she assumed, but if anyone didn't know him they might find it condescending, as the other boy did.

She heard the other boy yell and was knocked to the ground as Coriolanus was shoved against the back wall by Reaper.

“Ill kill you right now!” Shouted the boy, Reaper she heard someone call him. “He’ll do it too, Reaper killed a peacekeeper back in eleven.” “Quiet Dill!” “I say we kill him! Her too.” “I’m in.”

(Y/N) sat on the ground looking at the people around her nervously as they plotted her and her boyfriend;s “Are you okay?” (Y/N) looked up and saw Wovey sitting with her gift on her lap above her and next to her she saw Lucy, who was looking at her shoes, when she suddenly spoke up.

“Y’all got family back home? They’ll kill them if you hurt either of them. Then you.” She locked eyes with (Y/N) for a brief moment, then looked up at Reaper and Coriolanus.

“Besides, he's my mentor. I might need him.” The short red headed girl leaned over Lucy’s lap to get in her face.

“How come you get a mender?” She practically spat in her face.

“Mentor.” (Y/N) spoke up. “You all get one. I’m Wovey’s mentor.” She said from the ground still.

“Oh, and we’ll just trust you, right?” the girl replied back sarcastically.

“We’re just here to help you guys.” Coryo spoke up this time. As he looked between Lucy, her, and the redhead, Coral if (Y/N) remembers correctly from reaping day.

“Why aren't our menders here?” Coral asked, looking also between the four other kids.

“Just not inspired I guess.” Lucy smiled as she looked back down at (Y/N) on the floor, suddenly she felt a little insecure under the gaze of the girl who, even on her way to her death, looked so put together. (Y/N) stood up and dusted herself off, looking at Coryo then down again to Wovey’s toothy grin at her.

Suddenly the truck started to rattle and shake as it tilted upwards.

“Alright, hold on!” Coriolanus grabbed the bar in front of him as he reached for Lucy. (Y/N) reached out and grabbed Wovey along with the district eight boy and then grabbed the seat. (Y/N) was practically clutching Wovey in her lap as the eight boys held her legs,the younger still clutching the gift still to her chest, as they started to slip.

‘Coriolanus!” (Y/N) looked up at him as she screamed. Feeling the boy slip and fall as she still held Wovey. When suddenly the truck reached peak height and all four of them started to fall, all three tumbled down the rocks into the zoo exhibit.

(Y/N) landed first, still holding Wovey surprisingly, then was immediately crashed into by Lucy and Coriolanus.

“Ow…” She held her head as she sat up. “Are you okay?” she looked at Wovey.

“Mmmhmm, so is my gift!” Wovey smiled at the girl, she stood up and tried to offer (Y/N) a hand in getting up.

“(Y/N)! Are you okay!” Coriolanus had pulled himself and lucy up and wiped the dirt off himself. He immediately ran over and picked (Y/N) up off the ground by her armpits and started dusting her off, she felt like a child.

“I’m fine, just a few scratches. Are you two okay.” They locked eyes for a minute as they checked each other over.

“Excuse me! Hello Sir! Hello Ma’am!” (Y/N) and Coriolanus turned towards the voice neither of them could miss from outside the cage bars. Lucky Flickerman. Coriolanus’ neighbor and dear friend of (Y/N)’s family. Great, she thought, more people to tell her dad she was out here. He’s gonna love this one. “Yes you two, in the red! Who are you! And why are you in there with them! We’re live, the capital is watching!”

“Oh great, live television coverage. My dad will love this.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, sweeping off the dust from her outfit. Even Coriolanus looked shaky with the knowledge the capital was watching their performance.. (Y/N) took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze.

“Own it.” Lucy said to the two of them, though with the look she was giving him, (Y/N) felt it was more towards Coriolanus then her. Coriolanus locked eyes with her, a smile on his face.

“May I introduce you to my neighbors?” If his grin wasn't enough, the second Coriolanus dropped (Y/N)’s hand in exchange for putting the rose he bought in Lucy’s hair, she felt extremely uncomfortable. The way they looked at each other was interesting for two people who just met, at least in (Y/N)’s opinion. When he proceeded to take Lucy’s hand in his was when (Y/N) started to feel like maybe she was third wheeling her own boyfriend.

“Maybe you can introduce Wovey as well, (Y/N).” Coriolanus looked back at her as he started to walk Lucy over to the cameras. Leaving (Y/N) standing alone. Well with Wovey, but without her boyfriend. Maybe (Y/N) would have thought more about it if it wasn't for the small girl next to her.

“Well, that's something you don't see everyday! They're holding hands! Who are you sir, what are you doing in the cage here?” (Y/N) heard Lucy say as she turned her attention to Wovey, she had almost forgotten her job here.

“Wovey, would you like to say hello to the capital?” (Y/N) crouched down to the small girl’s height. Wovey looked at the cameras and then back to (Y/N).

“Can I open my snack first?” Wovey looked up at her with the biggest eyes.

“Of course, would you like help?” Wovey nodded and (Y/N) gently unwrapped the small package. She handed the scone to Wovey and opened the juice box for her. Wovey looked at the snack and then shoved about half of it into her mouth.

“Don’t choke now!” (Y/N) laughed at the face she was making, cheeks stuffed and face smeared with blueberries. (Y/N) pulled a, less extravagant, handkerchief out of her bag and whipped the girl’s face. “Here, you keep this one for later.” (Y/N) took Wovey’s arm and tied the handkerchief around her wrist in a bow.

“Now isn't that pretty, all the capital will be copying this soon. You’ll be a trendsetter!” Wovey raised her arm to inspect the bracelet as she ate the last of her scone, taking a large sip from her juice box with a smile.

“That was the best thing I have ever eaten. Thank you Miss. (Y/N).” Her toothy grin made (Y/N)’s heart melt.

“Well, are you ready to say hi!” (Y/N) tried not to dwell on the fact this poor girl was probably going to die after she just ate her first scone. She’d have to bring her another one. At the very least. Maybe too. Wovey nodded and took her hand as they walked over to Lucky, Coriolanus, and Lucy.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N) Cearo! How are you? Does your dad know you're in here?” Lucky recognized her right off the bat, she knew he would, they have dinner at the same restaurant every weekend.

“If he didn't before he does now!” She laughed along, playing up a smile as the cameras rolled. “To be fair, no one said I couldn't be here though! Plus I wanted to make sure my tribute, this beautiful young lady here, got the introduction she deserved!” (Y/N) crouched down again to Wovey’s heigh, taking both her hands in her own.

“And who might this be?” Lucky also crouched down and pointed the mic towards them both.

“My name is Wovey and I’m 12 years old.” Wovey spoke shyly, earning aws all around.

“Well Wovey, aren't you just the sweetest thing? And what district are you from?”

“Eight.” Wovey nervously shifted a bit in place with the spotlight on her.

“Well, that's great. For the record I think you both are about to be whisked away.” (Y/N) turned to see the peacekeepers coming to get her and Coriolanus. She turned back towards Wovey as she stood up. She could hear Lucy talking to Coriolanus.

“Be safe, I will bring you some more food soon. I promise.” Wovey nodded and ran over to Bobbin as (Y/N) and Coriolanus were dragged out of the Zoo by the peacekeepers. (Y/N) could hear Lucky closing out his show. Her dad was gonna kill her. — They both got a slap on the wrist for what happened and told to get back to the academy as soon as possible. What was worse punishment was the walk back to the academy. He held her hand, the same one he held hers with. Which was fine, she gets it, or at least she guesses she does. Their future relies on making sure the capital thinks he cares about Lucy, but he didn't have to be so convincing. Although she herself couldn't help but care for Wovey. So she guess she got it, in some way. What she couldn't stand was the smile on his face. He looked so. Happy. Like meeting Lucy Grey Baird was the best thing that's happened to him yet. Did he smile like that with her? Has he smiled at her like that? Of course he has you've talked of marriage and kids. Just last night he held you in his arms, not her. He loves you.

Or at least, that's what (Y/N) was telling herself to feel better.

As they walked into class to take their seats Dean Highbottom spoke up. “You two’s little excursion was in violation of about five different Academy rules, Mr. Snow and Miss. Cearo. Chief amongst them endangering Capital Students.” Coriolanus looked between the class and Dean Higbottom, his face reading one of shock.

“What? Who?” (Y/N) looked down at her shoes. She couldn't think of a single time either of them had been in trouble in class. Especially herself.

“Yourselves. I'm moving for the gamemakers to disqualify you both as mentors.” (Y/N)’s head shot up at that. Wovey.

“That’s not fair!” Her voice spoke before her brain caught up.

“You said we had to get our tributes to perform, not that we had to stay away!” Coriolanus fought back as well.

“I’ll add insubordination as well.” Dean Highbottom added, still not looking at either of them.

“Holding their hands, introducing them to people, guys. You make them look as if we’re one in the same.” Clemmie spoke up next, (Y/N) shooting a look at her from her seat.

“They both didn't show those people anything they didn't already know!” Serjanus spoke up next. The anger in his voice as a previous member of the districts. (Y/N) felt bad for what was happening now.

“I don't need your help, Serjanus.” Coriolanus’ voice sounded angry too. This was all getting out of hand, but he went wrong.

“That the tributes are human beings, just like us.” Serjanus continued even though Coriolanus told him to stop.

“We just wanted to make sure our tributes knew we were there for them.” (Y/N) spoke up now, she knew this fighting was unnecessary but she was in this now too. At least for Wovey’s sake.

“It's because people know, deep down, that winning a war ten years ago doesn't justify starving people’s children, taking away their freedoms, their rights!” Serjanus’ voice was rocky at the end, his feelings on the matter strong. They knew the games were wrong. No one wanted to admit it but him.

“Snow fell down in the cage. It fell down in the cage but it landed.” Dr. Gauls' voice silenced the whole class. “On Stage.” She stepped down to the bleachers to look at the class.

“You're good at Games, Mr. Snow. You too Miss. Cearo.” She smiled at them and (Y/N) felt a shiver down her spine. “Maybe one day you'll be a gamemaker, like me.” (Y/N) knew she should take the praise as an honor, but she felt uneasy in the woman's presence.

“If the games continue at all.” Dean Highbottom replied to her, tapping mindlessly at his paper.

“Oh, they’ll continue. With performances like young Mr. Snow and Miss. Cearo in that zoo.” She stepped down a bit more, turning her attention to Corilanus and (Y/N). “and I came here to ask your star mentors a question.” The class around them started to mummer.

“What are the Hunger Games for?” Dr. Gaul may have said she asked you both, but her stare locked on Coriolanus. Which (Y/N) felt relief for.

“They are to punish the district for their uprising, to commemorate the end of the war.” Coriolansu answered.

“Commemorate the… dull dull dull.” Dr. Gual started. “Punishment can take many forms. Why not drop bombs! Cancel food shipments. Stage executions? Why Games?” She looked around the class now, waiting for an answer from Coriolanus.

“Shouldn't we be asking ourselves whether or not the games are right?” Serjanus spoke up again now. (Y/N) looked at him. He was right, but that's not what the games are for.

“You don't like my games?” Dr. Gaul now turned to Serjanus, eyes wide with interest. “Some of those kids were two years old when the war ended, the oldest of them only eight. The capitol is supposed to be everybody’s government now. It's supposed to protect us all. I don't see how making children fight against each other is protecting anyone!” “That sort of Sympathy may interfere with your mentoring assignment.” “Perhaps the Capital students are ill-suited to be mentoring tributes. Perhaps the game's times have passed.”

“The Hunger Games are a performative way to instill fear.” (Y/N) spoke up now. “After 13 was destroyed they were instilled as a reminder that the people, the rebels, who turn against the capital are against Panem in whole, and the capital will do what it takes to protect Panem.” (Y/N) looked up at Dr. Gaul, waiting for a reaction.

‘Now that's a different take Miss. Cearo. A strong one.” Dr. Gaul’s stare made (Y/N) uncomfortable to say the least, but all eyes were on her now.

“I say performative because theyre a show, you want us to have our tributes perform, you want people to be invested in the games. We were simply trying to push our tribute's popularity ratings by showing the capital who they're watching.”

“Dean Highbottom is wrong.” Now Coriolanus was speaking up. “My classmates too. Serjanus may be onto something though. Maybe we should be viewing those tributes as human beings. I mean you saw those kids at the zoo. They just wanted to get to know Lucy Grey. If we need people, we should be letting them get closer to the tributes before the games. To make the stakes personal. Who will watch the games if they care what happens to the tributes.” (Y/N) was proud of Coriolanus, he would make a great public relations specialist if not president.

“Everyone.” (Y/N) replied. “Everyone loves a good competition. Sports were popular in the old world, and maybe people chose and rooted for specific teams from each sport. Everyone wants someone to root for.”

“Especially if they thought the tribute they cared about had a chance of winning. We need people to invest.” (Y/N) was liking this side of Coriolanus, even if she knew it was just for the Plinth prize.

“Look, I know Lucy Grey may not win in the arena but if you give her a chance, I would bet the Plinth Prize she can win people’s attention.”

“I’d like you to write up a proposal of these thoughts tonight, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul was gleaming at Coriolanus. Yeah, (Y/N) had spoken up too but she was okay with not having Dr. Gaul’s attention on her.

“Wait.” (Y/N) turned to Clems as she now stood up. “You mean you might actually use his ideas?” Now she was just feeling ignored.

“If it helps the ratings, why not.” Dr. Gaul replied with a eerily cheerful tone.

“Coriolanus and I are class partners, Dr. Gaul. We do all our assignments together.” (Y/N) watched as Dr. Gaul laughed at her friend.

“It'll be an interesting test.” She said as she began to walk out of the class.

This will be an interesting experience indeed, (Y/N) thought to herself.